#ezra from prospect

[miranhas-art]

Tried something

[nerdieforpedro]

It flowed beautifully ❤️❤️❤️

55 and 93 with Ezra & F Plus sized reader. Angst or fluff, maybe a little bit of both? Whatever you feel works with the prompts :)

A request by @insomniamamma (enjoy!) 

Words: 1,053 | Credit to gif owner | Angst & Fluff, kissing

Love Is A Rebellious Bird

Ezra x F Plus size reader

See prompts in bold

Friends to lovers, lovers to friends; you were not entirely sure how to categorize what you and Ezra were.

While he was away, you thought of all the ways to tell him how you felt. In movies, confessions of love always seem so grand, at times carefree. Could it be that way for you and Ezra? Once you spoke your truth, would he feel the same?

It was not in the plan to fall in love. You were on a mission to keep things light and to have fun. To tap into your sensual and adventurous side as you finally came to a place of feeling confident and comfortable in your skin.

Then he appeared. The silver tongued casanova with stories in his eyes and a rogue tuff of blonde hair among his dark curls. Your meeting felt so perfect, cosmic really. By the end of the first date, you felt like old friends meeting again.

Everything was easy and natural, like riding a smooth wave. Until your heart got involved. Now, you sat on a confession that was ready to burst through your skin. Your mind spun wildly with the possibilities, so much so, you worried yourself dizzy by the time he showed up at your door.

The last time you saw him was 5 months ago. Usually, these visits made you feel excited. Now, you were nervous. It was common for him to stay with you after his jobs, filling your days with laughter, tales, and sensual moments.

With each visit, he worked his way deeper into your heart. Ezra's flowery language was like being serenaded under the moonlight. He called you the most beautiful yet strange names while planting kisses on your lips and whispering into your skin.

Of course you fell in love with Ezra. But, did he feel the same?

You didn't notice how long you drifted off, not until Ezra speaks. His voice breaks your dazed state of mind.

"Where have you gone, starlight?" He asks, his head lowered as he sticks his fork into his food. You feel tongue-tied. The words you fear speaking linger on your tongue.

Your eyes wander over to the small table by the window where all of Ezra’s gifts have turned into some kind of altar. Rare gems, a book of poetry, rock formations, dried flowers...even now, in your state of worry, you smile. It always makes you smile.

Ezra hums loudly and puts the fork down. “Gem, you’ve outdone yourself again. My taste buds are alive with flavor! My stomach sings in delight at-” Ezra slows down, the concern in your eyes worries him. “Gem?”

Slowly, you turn your head and meet his gaze.

Ezra was the definition of a free bird, he was a wanderer, a space cowboy. What if one day, the handsome rugged prospector tired of you? Then taking someone else as his lover?

You can’t hide your concern, Ezra sees right through you and leans a little closer. He starts to say your name, but you cut him off and speak first.

“Ezra, sometimes I look at that door and I wonder when the last time will be. I wonder when…” you trail off and slouch in your chair.

Ezra pushes the plate aside and turns his palms up, he waits for your hands. When you place them in his, he curls his fingers and gives them a gentle squeeze.

“I haven’t the faintest idea what crawled into your mind and convinced you of such thoughts Birdie. I assure you, I’m not going anywhere.”

He sounds so confident, his eyes honest. You want to believe him; for the most part you do. But that pesky little voice inside of you still questions it.

Ezra pulls your right hand up to kiss your skin, then does the same to the left. You press your lips together and try to suppress the emotions welling up in your chest.

“Ezra, I know what this is. I know it has an expiration date. Even with all the passion in the world, a lover can only remain a lover for so long, yes?”

Ezra frowns. You wonder if it's because what you said is true, or if what you said bothers him.

Ezra clears his throat. “I sense there is something more you want to vocalize, Angel. Before I inquire, I must make it clear, though you are most certainly my lover, and I yours, you’re more than that.”

Ezra releases your hands and stands. Rounding the table, he kneels before you. You push the chair out to give him more room as he rests his hands on your thighs, his eyes on yours.

“I confess, I came to our reunion tonight with a heavy heart as well. I too have secrets to declare, “ his eyes search yours, “my feelings for you have been clear to me for quite some time. The nature of my profession gives me pause when it comes to such matters. Even so, love is a rebellious bird no one can tame. And I do, indeed, love you.”

Your eyes light up as shock washes over you. “Ezra, “ you whisper with a smile,” I love you too.”

He’s grinning ear to ear now, and those dimples your love so much make their appearance. Reaching out, you caress his face with your palm, his eyes close as he leans into it. You kiss the top of his head, savoring the moment.

After a few seconds, Ezra releases your hands. He stands and beckons your closer with his hands.

“Come here.”

You stand and step into his arms, nearly purring at how good it feels to be held by him.

Ezra plants kisses on your face before continuing, “Little bird you are the muse, the inspiration that floods the hearts of poets and painters. You are the fresh blossom of a flower in spring and the sound of music that soothes one's soul. How divine you are, how heavenly. I indeed am a prosperous man to have your heart, as you have mine.”

Moved beyond words, you crash your lips into his. Ezra smiles into the kiss before parting his lips to have more of you. 

A feathery feeling washes over your body, you feel elated and relieved. Your heart didn’t lead you astray, it guided you right where you needed to be.

More from this prompt request series ( now closed) 

More Ezra 

Permanent @readsalot73 @phoenixhalliwell @buckysalefty @roxypeanut @laketaj24 @lovinglokiforever @nerdypinupcrystal @tephi101 @wigwitch @gallowsjoker @autumnleaves1991-blog @jedi-mando @ladylothlorien @lilangeldevil006 @rosiefridayrogersunday @idreamofboobear

Pedro Pascal: @agirllovespancakes @cinewhore @promiscuoussatan @thegreenkid @absurdthirst @marydjarin @mandilflorian @over300books @seasonschange-butpeopledont @hayley-the-comet @synystersilenceinblacknwhite @fandomfic-galore @viktorialukowski @turtle-lizard @sarahjkl82-blog @pascalisthepunkest @agentwhiskeypussyindulgence @lilangeldevil006 @mrschiltoncat

Ezra: @agirllovespancakes @oldstuffnewstuff @opheliaelysia @voteforpedropascal @engineeredfiction @buckstaposition @holographic-carmen @readsalot73 @cinewhore @charming-merlin @viktorialukowski

[skyshipper]

@PSCENTRAL​ EVENT 22: 2023 WRAPPED PEDRO PASCAL CHARACTERS AS PRESENTS

[daddy-dins-girl]

Pedro Boys "Every Friend Group Has"

PSA: MARCUS P I'M SO SORRY, I LOVE YOU, IT'S JUST A JOKE! I WOULD NEVER LEAVE YOU.

related posts: Pedro Boys "During a Fire Emergency" Pedro Boys "Nice Argument. Unfortunately," Pedro Boys "Don't Fuck This Up" Pedro Boys "Dad(dy) Matrix" Pedro Boys & Stabbing Pedro Boys "Lawful/Neutral/Chaotic" Pedro Boys "Feral/Sad/Angelic" Pedro Boys Respond to "I love you." Pedro Boys "Character Tropes" Pedro Boys "Gay/Depressed/Horny on Main" Pedro Boys "Dad/THOT/Bastard" Pedro Boys "bring some Coke to the party" Pedro Boys "Zombie Apocalypse Team" Pedro Boys "I Want a Baby" Pedro Boys "As Babysitters" Pedro Boys "As McDonald's Dads" Pedro Boys "in a horror movie" Pedro Boys "Cinnamon Rolls" Pedro Boys "5 Kids, 3 Chairs" Pedro Boys "Playing Monopoly"

[gasolinerainbowpuddles]

He laughs. "Now, angel. There is no need to take such violent measures. It's not that I forgot Valentines Day. I merely misremembered the precise calendar date of the occasion." 🙏 "I promise that there is a gift waiting for you back in our quarters on the station. In fact, I think I'll go transmit a message to Cee right now to make sure it's still there and safe and waiting for our prompt arrival!"

Cee isn’t even there, and he knows it. He’s just saying whatever he can to buy himself time. He almost delights in the fact that he forgot it was Valentine’s Day, knowing how even a levelheaded, no-nonsense person like yourself still finds something charming and comforting in the silly little traditions of the holiday. He can still salvage the situation, he just knows it.

He calms you down eventually - enough that you lower your weapon. You still hold up a guard, though, stung a bit by his forgetfulness. It was a chance for him to showcase his affection, after all, and he was never one to turn down an opportunity for showmanship.

You’d expected to roll your eyes at his peacocking, but now you were feeling like someone easy to forget. Someone so unimportant that even an over the top man like Ezra could get focused enough on something else and end up ignoring you entirely.

So he takes you back home and feigns surprise at Cee’s absence. He immediately posits how it’s a lucky draw that you two find yourselves alone. He feeds off your energy, still pent up and annoyed at him for everything. He plans to use this to his advantage.

He coaxes you out of your suit and into the hygiene facilities. He doesn’t jump on you when you stroll around nude looking for lounge clothes. He lets you relax a little bit before slowly and innocently brushing a hand across the small of your back as he passes by or gently grasping your forearm to get your attention.

He strolls around after his turn in the hygiene pod naked as the day he was born. He can see from his periphery the way your eyes keep slipping between his thighs. He’s already half hard but makes no acknowledgment of it.

Just when you’re wound up enough again to want to pick up where you left off earlier with your blaster, he corners you and pushes you up against the dresser.

“Sweet as a rosehip crushed between my fingertips,” he hums lazily. “Velvet petal skin and heady floral breath. I can’t decide if I want to smell you or eat you.”

He does a bit of both as he shoves you onto the dresser top and spreads your legs open wide, burying the wide hook of his nose into your eager cunt. He breathes deep and long, savoring the aroma and mark of you.

You shudder at the unabashed want he has for you, and his mischievous eyes lift to meet your gaze.

“I could never forget a cunt like this. It’s due time I remind you of that fact.”

It’s the last thing he says before sloppily kissing and tonguing into your heat. Before the night is done, you will think twice before doubting his devotion to you.

[sixhours]

i know you by heart - chapter 2

Series Chapter Index | Read on AO3 | Complete

Rating: Explicit, 18+, here be smut Series tags: The Last of Us, The Last of Us (HBO), Prospect, Joel Miller x Ezra, Joel & Ellie, Ezra & Cee, Joel is bad at feelings and relationships, Ellie is a little shit (affectionate), mostly follows canon after season 1, SMUT, gay sex, bisexual!Joel, period-typical homophobia, light angst, romance, age gap (~10ish years), I've probably forgotten some so please let me know <3

When Joel was 17, he kissed a boy for the first time.

His name was Kenny Farmington, and they were both a little drunk on cheap beer and a nice Texas night and the special high that comes from being not quite a man and not quite a boy, stuck in that in-between time when it felt like anything was possible. Joel had a truck and a part-time job at Regis Construction and his whole life spread out before him like an open road.

It was a nice enough kiss. But when Joel opened his eyes after their lips parted and saw fear rather than lust in his friend’s eyes, he knew it ended there. Everyone knew Kenny’s dad was a raging homophobe who would “whoop his ass” if he thought his son might be “one of them dirty fuckin’ faggots”.

Joel wasn’t convinced his own father wouldn’t have had something to say about it had he known.

And, oh well. Joel liked girls, too. He liked them enough to bring Eileen Folsom home and make out with her in the basement rec room at her parents’ house until his cock was weeping and his balls were blue. He liked them well enough to get to third base with Cindy Sherwood in the back of his truck. He liked girls plenty.

It was the eighties, anyway. AIDS was spreading like wildfire, and small-town Texas was hardly the place to go looking for action if you weren’t straight as a goddamn arrow.

Four years later, Joel liked one particular girl enough to knock her up, and then he didn’t have much time to consider whether he’d want to kiss another boy, because he was going to be a father.

And then there was Sarah. And a divorce. And his parents died. And Tommy went off to war and came back, and there was overtime and working doubles to keep the roof over their heads and the payment on the truck up, and who the fuck had time to think about boys or girls or anyone in between.

And then there was cordyceps. And his daughter, his baby girl, bleeding out in his arms.

And then Joel didn’t spend much time thinking about what he liked at all. He kept going for the ones who needed him without a thought spared for himself.

And then came Ellie.

Ellie, who patched up his heart and turned his life upside down and made him care about something other than brute survival again. Tore down his walls and broke him open and somehow left him whole.

Whole, and…wanting.

Which is why, forty years after Kenny Farmington, he doesn’t feel bad about imagining another man’s face, or hands, or lips on his body when he strokes himself in the shower. He doesn’t feel ashamed when he gets off to the thought of another man’s mouth on his cock. It’s not the first time he’s been attracted to a man, and it won’t be the last.

No, he feels bad because that man is his daughter’s fucking therapist. That man is someone she needs to trust, someone she raves about over dinner, someone who is, in her words, “so fucking cool”.

And his duty, first and foremost, is to Ellie.

So he tries not to imagine Ezra when his libido comes roaring back to life after years of dormancy, boiling his blood and making him feel half his age.

And he fails, miserably.

He comes out of his own bad dreams to hers more often than not. Sometimes she calls for Riley, sometimes for him, and sometimes she just screams.

Tonight it’s the latter, and he’s across the hall and through her door in seconds, a reflex perfected over months.

“Hey, Ellie,” he mumbles, only half conscious. “Ellie, you’re okay.”

“He was–he–I can’t breathe ,” she chokes out, panting in short, wispy breaths.

“Yeah, y’can, in and out,” he says. “Like we practiced. C’mon, you got it. Breathe, baby girl.”

“Can’t,” she gasps, but he feels her back expand and contract under his palm, the movements slowing as each subsequent breath gets longer. He folds her into his arms and rubs her back the way she likes and whispers assurances into her hair as her panicked gasps turn into sobs.

“You’re okay. You’re okay. You’re okay, baby, you’re alright.”

In these moments, she goes from being the smart-mouthed, sassy little shit he loves to a scared, vulnerable little kid. He prefers her bratty. This is too much like those brutal winter days when they came so close to losing each other.

Eventually, she sniffs and scoots over so he can stretch out next to her on top of the covers. He puts his arm out so she can curl into him, one hand gripping his t-shirt at his side. He swears all his sleep shirts are stretched out funny; even after washing, they hold the imprint of her fingers.

They both sleep better this way, though neither of them will admit it. She swears she’s too old to snuggle and he worries what people might think. But after months on the road, after so many nights camped out next to each other in the dirt, the comfort of someone else’s breathing makes for a powerful lullaby.

“Bad one?” he asks, tracing the line of her temple with his thumb.

“They’re all bad ones,” she mutters into his chest. “Wish I wasn’t like this.”

“Like what?”

“All…broken and shit.”

“We’re all pretty fuckin’ broken, kiddo.”

“Yeah, but I’m like, extra broken.”

He swallows hard, wonders how many times he’s dreamed of a vast field bordered by blocked highways, the sound of helicopters overhead, gunfire in the distance. The smell of blood.

“Know it feels like that…but it’ll get better,” he whispers, hugging her tightly, wondering if it counts as a lie. “Jus’ takes time.”

He’s almost dozed off when she speaks again, her voice low and distant.

“I don’t belong here.”

His brow furrows. “What d’you mean?”

She doesn’t answer. He can’t imagine a world in which she doesn’t belong with him, can’t imagine a life where she isn’t exactly where she is right now. Knowing how close they came to that reality, just the thought is enough to set his heart to racing.

Swear to me.

“What do you mean, kiddo?” he prompts.

“Nothing,” she murmurs. “S’nothing, never mind.”

“Look, Ellie–”

“It’s fine, Joel. I’m just…tired,” she mumbles, nuzzling into his chest. “Don’t wanna talk.”

“Alright,” he whispers, cupping the back of her head. “Alright, then. Get some sleep.”

She does, and he doesn’t. He stares at the opposite wall and listens to her breathe and wonders if he will ever not feel like he’s failing her.

Ellie doesn’t offer much about her weekly appointments with Ezra and Joel doesn’t ask. Instead, she talks about the music they listened to (“None of that Linda Ronstadt shit.”) and begs Joel for a record player. He swaps one of his refurbished guitars for a small portable model at the trading post, and Ezra sends her home with new records each week.

There’s a lot of Pink Floyd, Led Zeppelin, and AC/DC, all played at a volume that Joel might find concerning if he wasn’t already half deaf.

Late November comes and she hasn’t had a nightmare in two weeks. She still grumbles about going to school, still talks back and swears like a goddamn sailor, but there are no more pink slips and she hasn’t stabbed any more desks. Or students.

Small favors.

They’re walking into the Saturday movie together before he sees Ezra again.

“What’re they playin’?” Joel asks.

“It’s a Wonderful Life," Ellie chirps. "It’s black and white, a classic.”

He wrinkles his nose. “Just ‘cause it’s in black and white don’t make it a classic.”

“Thought you’d like it that way. Means it’s old as dirt, like you.”

“Was born in ‘67, you little shit,” he grumbles. “We had color movies.”

“Whatever you say, grandpa.”

Ellie drags him into the rec center, eager to claim one of the big couches at the back so she can sprawl out and hog three-quarters of the damn thing.

“I save seats, you get popcorn,” she says. Joel makes a show of rolling his eyes at being bossed around, but this is part of the routine. He makes his way to the table with the little wax bags of popcorn and grabs two. He doesn’t like the stuff, it gets stuck in his teeth, but she’ll eat his portion. That’s also part of the routine.

He gets back to the couch and motions for her to scoot over. “I get the corner.”

She obliges, then takes her usual seat, propped against his right side in a heartbreakingly familiar position.

“Don’t fall asleep this time,” he mutters, handing her the popcorn.

“As if,” she scoffs.

“You did last week.”

“Yeah, ‘cause it was one of those stupid action movies.”

“ Die Hard is not a stupid action movie,” Joel grumbles. “You wanna talk about Christmas classics.”

“You’re kidding, right? What part of ‘dude spends two boring-ass hours climbing through air vents’ makes Die Hard a Christmas movie?”

Before he can make his case for Bruce Willis, she catches sight of someone across the room and gasps.

“Hey, Ezra! Over here!”

She jumps up and waves, eliciting a faint smile from the man as he approaches. “Hello, my young prodigy. And…just Joel.”

Joel nods in greeting; his tongue suddenly doesn’t want to cooperate.

“Sit with us,” she says, scooting closer to Joel and patting the seat.

“I wouldn’t want to impose,” Ezra says, eyes flicking uncertainly to Joel’s, but Ellie is already pulling him down on her other side.

“Plenty of room,” Joel coughs. “S’no trouble.”

As soon as Ezra’s butt hits the seat, Ellie begins chattering about Christmas movies as Ezra listens with rapt attention. Joel catches only a fraction of their conversation–he blames his bad ear and the rumble of the crowd filing in around them–but he can’t help but watch the two with an unexpected feeling of relief. It’s clear she’s made a friend.

The opening credits start and Ellie turns back to Joel, tucking herself under his arm. She munches on her popcorn until it’s gone, at which point Joel wordlessly hands her his share.

He’s never liked It’s a Wonderful Life , even less so after Sarah’s death. They watched it every Christmas at her insistence. He thought it was dumb then, and twenty years and an apocalypse have done nothing to change his opinion. But for Ellie, he’ll watch just about anything, one arm draped over the back of the couch as she cuddles up against him. 

Halfway through the movie, with their empty popcorn bags discarded on the floor, Ellie is curled up against Joel’s leg, head pillowed on his thigh, breathing deeply.

“Told ya not to fall asleep,” he murmurs, but he doesn’t try to move or wake her, reaching down to stroke her hair instead. Movie nights are good for something, even if it means suffering through Jimmy Stewart’s manufactured crisis.

When he looks up again, Ezra’s attention has drifted from the movie to watch them, a soft expression on his face. Their eyes meet and he smiles a little and Joel feels that warm flush creep up his neck.

He’s used to people avoiding him. Walking around with his scowl and his “asshole voice”, as Ellie calls it. It worked in the QZ and it works in Jackson. He’s known for being gruff and stoic and taking no bullshit. He saves his smiles for Ellie’s shitty puns.

If that makes him an asshole, so be it.

But Ezra clearly hasn’t gotten the message, and Joel doesn’t know what to make of that.

When the movie is over, he rouses Ellie with a gentle flick to her ear. “Wake up, sleepyhead.”

“Mmmph,” she growls. “Didn’t fall asleep, asshole.”

“Sure, kid,” he mutters. “C’mon, let’s get you home.”

She makes it to her feet, rubbing her eyes, and lets Joel help her with her jacket, one of the sleeves having turned inside out in her rush to claim the couch.

“Bye, Ezra,” she yawns.

“Goodnight, young prodigy. Joel,” he nods, those warm brown eyes lingering. He opens his mouth as if to say something else, but doesn’t, and then Ellie is pulling Joel into the exiting crowd.

They’re eating dinner at the caf next week when Ellie brings him up again.

“Ezra wants you.”

Joel chokes on a bite of stew. “W-what?”

“Chew much?” Ellie raises an eyebrow. “I said, Ezra wants to see you.”

“Oh, right, uh…why does…Ezra wanna see me?” he coughs, reaching for his water.

“My last session’s on Wednesday. He wants to ‘check in’ or whatever.”

“Oh…right…fine,” Joel says, pulse suddenly a nagging throb in his throat. “I’ll, uh…I’ll drop by tomorrow before patrol.”

“Tomorrow’s Sunday.”

“Yeah?” Joel stabs at a carrot. “So?”

“Sooooo he’s not in on Sundays.”

“M’sure he can spare five minutes,” Joel mutters.

“Whatever, dude,” Ellie shrugs. “Oh, hey–Dina invited me to go with her and Jesse after stable duty. They’re gonna show me around the south quad; the sheep pasture. Your favorite.”

“Dina…Dina,” Joel mutters, thinking. “Wait, ain’t that the one who–”

“Yeah,” Ellie says, blushing a little. “She’s kinda cool when she’s not being a fucking jerk.”

Joel hides his smile in his mug. “Alright. Just be careful an’ get back here for dinner.”

“Sir, yes sir,” she says through a mouthful of potatoes, throwing in a little mock salute.

This time, he doesn’t bother hiding his smile.

He finds himself on Ezra’s doorstep the next morning. Faint music drifts from inside and by the time he finally works up the courage to knock, Ezra is peering at him from the other side of the glass, half-naked and toweling his hair dry.

“Oh, uh…hey. I, uh–”

Joel tells himself the cold December air accounts for the sudden flush of color in his cheeks. Ezra’s torso is still slick from the shower, a pair of gray sweats hanging low on narrow hips. His bare chest, much like Joel’s, is dappled with scars. He finds himself entranced by a drop of water that escapes a dark curl and lands on his neck, slipping down the length of his throat and settling on one firm pectoral. Joel bites the inside of his lower lip hard.

Maybe Sunday was a bad idea.

“Joel! To what do I owe the pleasure?”

And maybe Joel is reading too much into it, but the way Ezra’s face lights up makes him think it is a pleasure.

“Uh…I can come back–”

But the other man has already opened the door and is ushering him inside. “Nonsense, come in.”

“Ellie said you wanted, uh…needed to see me?”

“I did! I do. ”

The strains of a Tom Petty song float from the office. Ezra ducks in and stops the player with a light needle scratch.

“Coffee? It’s not the genuine article, I’m afraid, just chicory, but I brewed more than enough for two.”

“Uh…sure. Thanks.”

“Make yourself comfortable, I’ll return posthaste.”

‘Posthaste.’ Jesus.

Joel stands at the door of the little office with his hands in his pockets, slowly taking in the room with fresh eyes. He’s drawn to the record shelf. Curious, he thumbs lightly through the stacks of vinyl, finding an eclectic mix of basically everything. There’s even some of “that Linda Ronstadt shit”.

“Your young prodigy prefers Pearl Jam,” Ezra says from the doorway, startling Joel a little. “I’m trying to broaden her horizons a bit.”

He’s put on a t-shirt, his hair still tousled and damp around his ears, and he holds out a steaming mug of chicory coffee.

“Thanks,” Joel takes it gruffly, sips at it, burns his tongue, sputtering and making a damn fool of himself in the process. “Yeah, she’s, uh…she’s really impressed with your collection.”

“We’ve had quite the musical education,” Ezra smiles, that same boyish grin. “I’ve enjoyed her company immensely over these last few weeks, I have to say.”

“Uh…good,” Joel says. “She, uh, said you needed me for somethin’?”

“Sure, sure. Have a seat.”

Joel does, setting his mug down on the coffee table as Ezra does the same. 

“The council mandated twelve weeks; our last appointment is coming up. I just wanted to convey my deep appreciation for–”

The office door, slightly ajar, is suddenly flung open.

“Ez, I’m gonna–whoa.”

A lanky, blonde-haired girl, not much older than Ellie by Joel’s estimation, rushes into the room, then stops short. She blinks at Joel and grimaces in apology.

“Door was open,” the girl says.

“We’re not–I’m not working, Cee,” Ezra says. “Cee, this is Joel. Joel, Cee.”

“Hi,” Cee says. “Sorry, I just…I’m at the greenhouse today. ‘Til six.”

Ezra nods. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, birdie.”

And then she’s gone with a wave and a “later” over her shoulder, and Ezra’s smile softens.

“I have a young prodigy of my own,” he murmurs. “You aren’t the only one to take in a stray.”

“Your kid?”

“No…no, not exactly. I’m afraid I don’t share your fatherly tendencies,” he muses. “Fellow travelers, let’s say. She’s helped me out of a scrape or two, and I do the same when I can. We make a formidable team…as do you and your Ellie, I believe.”

Joel bites his lip. When they were on the road, he would have said they made a good team. Now he’s not so sure.

“Right, uh…you were sayin’, about Ellie?”

Ezra smiles and relaxes back into his chair.

“Joel, I think your young prodigy is quite possibly the sanest person alive in the town of Jackson. She has a knack for seeing things exactly as they are, and the soul of someone twice her age. It’s truly…remarkable. It’s evident she’s endured some trauma, but she has a strong constitution.”

Joel braces himself for the inevitable “but”.

She won’t behave. She swears too much. She’s too loud.

She needs someone who can take care of her, and you’re not cutting it.

You’re failing her.

“But…?”

Ezra raises an eyebrow, shrugs. “That’s it. I know from some…personal experience,” he says, eyes flicking toward the office door, “that it’s sometimes difficult for a man to know where he stands with these things. For what it’s worth, you’re doing a fine job with her.”

Joel snorts softly. “Yeah, right.”

“I am wholeheartedly serious,” the other man says. “I’m sure she’s awash in the usual teenage reticence, but in present company, she speaks of you fondly. She tells me she’s lucky to have you, perhaps not in so many words, but it’s there. And I’d agree. She is lucky to have you, Joel.”

Joel blinks, surprised to feel the prickle of tears in the corners of his eyes, the sudden overwhelming relief of it. He ducks his head.

“That’s…uh…that’s good,” Joel manages. “She’s, uh…”

He can’t finish, his tongue feels stuck in his mouth. Ezra nudges a basket of handkerchiefs across the coffee table, and Joel almost laughs aloud at the absurdity. A year ago, if someone told him he’d be crying in a therapist’s office he would have shot them point blank and slept like a damn baby after.

She’s my whole damn world.

She deserves better.

“She’s a good kid,” he finishes thickly.

“Indeed. For the purposes of the council’s involvement, I don’t think she’s a danger to herself or others,” Ezra continues. “And that’s what I’ll be putting in my report.”

“Alright. That’s…that’s real good,” Joel sighs.

He swipes a cloth from the basket and rubs at his eyes. It’s like taking his first breath of air after drowning. For the first time since arriving in Jackson, he thinks maybe she’s going to be fine. They might just make it through.

Ezra gets up and Joel does the same, crumpling the cloth and stuffing the evidence into his pocket.

“Before you go, would you humor me?” Ezra says. “There’s something I like to do with my clients. Not that you’re a client, but…I’d like to satisfy a certain…curiosity.”

He goes to the record shelf and begins thumbing through the albums as if looking for something specific. Eventually, he pulls one down, examining it thoughtfully before turning and bringing it over.

“Give this a listen,” Ezra murmurs. “Tell me what you think. A…musician’s opinion.”

Butterflies alight in Joel’s stomach at the timbre of his voice. That wanting is back, filling in for the weight of the anxiety he’s carried for so many months. Ezra watches Joel’s face with an odd kind of quiet, as if searching for something.

If Joel didn’t know better, he’d think he was nervous.

“Uh, sure,” he says, accepting the album after a too-long pause. “I’ll…let you know.”

And then the moment is gone, and Joel is leaving, record tucked under one arm, half relieved, half longing, and entirely confused.

Later, he sneaks into Ellie’s room to borrow the record player. He takes it to his room, plugs it in, and unsheathes the album.

Eva Cassidy, Songbird .

Joel recognizes the title track, but it’s a softer rendition, softer than any of the music Ellie has brought home and blasted at top volume.

The woman’s soulful, sweet voice draws him in. It’s almost sad. It’s the kind of music that reminds him of Sarah, something she would have asked him to play on the rare nights he was home with enough time to do so. Something she would have sung along with in her soft soprano voice.

Midnights in winter

The glowing fire

Lights up your face in orange and gold

I see your sweet smile

Shine through the darkness

It's line is etched in my memory

So I'd know you by heart

Before long, he’s reaching for his guitar and replacing the needle to repeat the track, frowning as he tries to suss out the key and the chord progression.

Ellie finds him that way sometime later, perched on the edge of the bed with his guitar in his lap.

“Joel, where’d the record pl–oh, hey.”

“Hey, kiddo,” he says, blinking into the dim light. “Sorry…guess I lost track of time. Got caught up here.”

“What is it?”

“Oh, uh…saw Ezra today. He gave me this,” he gestures to the record. “Thought I’d try to play a little.”

She narrows her eyes. “Did you guys talk about me?”

“Yep,” he says, setting the guitar aside. “Ezra told me all the dirt on you.”

“Yeah? Like what?”

“Said you’re a menace to society. Should lock you up and throw away the key.”

Ellie grins. “Did not.”

“Did too,” Joel smirks. “Said you’re crazier than a squirrel in a nuthouse. Loonier than a lake full of…uh, loons.”

She giggles, music to his ears. “Shut up.”

He has the sudden, desperate desire to pull her in for a hug and ruffle her hair. He settles for giving her shoulder a squeeze.

“How ‘bout we go get some dinner?” he says, standing and propping Songbird up on his dresser for safekeeping. “My treat.”

“You mean the caf’s treat, asshole. And I want my record player back.”

“Who says it’s yours? Don’t see your name on it.”

“Dude, c’mon .”

“So…what do you know about this Ezra guy?”

It’s Christmas Eve, and they’re sitting at the table in Tommy and Maria’s kitchen. It’s been over a week since his conversation with Ezra. He hasn’t been able to get the other man out of his mind, and he definitely doesn’t know what to make of the record album sitting on his bedroom dresser.

Tommy frowns. “Ezra…Ezra…that the one without an arm?”

“Uh-huh.”

A shrug. “Gettin’ hard to keep track, lot of new folks comin’ through. Think he came in a few months ‘fore you, though. Had a girl with him, that much I remember. Why?”

He takes a sip of his beer. “Just curious, s’all. Ellie was seein’ him for the stuff that happened at school. What’d he do before?”

Giggles float in from the living room. Out of the corner of his eye, Joel watches Ellie sitting on the floor next to the tree–her first Christmas ever , she’d eagerly tell anyone who would listen–playing with baby Isabel while Maria dozes on the couch. All of them are stuffed full of a holiday meal that might have been a week’s worth of rations in the QZ.

Sometimes Jackson feels like a mirage in the desert. It’s almost too normal, too safe to be real.

“Think they broke off from a raidin’ party. Honestly, I don’t think we would’ve taken them in ‘cept the girl was in rough shape. Thought maybe he was…y’know…usin’ her or somethin’.”

Joel winces, shoots his brother a knowing look. They’d seen worse.

“But she insisted. Vouched for him,” Tommy continues. “Bit of an odd pair. Just like you and Ellie, I guess.”

“Hmm.”

“Why you askin’?”

He can’t meet his brother’s eyes. “No reason.”

“He’s an odd one but seems harmless. Or harmless enough. Talks fancy,” he mutters. “His kid’s a bit shy but smart as a whip. Reminds me of–”

Tommy stops abruptly, glancing at Joel from the corner of his eye as he takes a long swallow of beer.

“You can say her name, y’know,” Joel murmurs, frowning, scratching at an invisible spot on the table’s surface. “Sarah.”

“Sarah,” Tommy nods, then continues softly, “To be fair, big brother, there was a time when I couldn’t.”

“Yeah, well…things change,” Joel mutters.

He still can’t look at his niece without thinking of her, can’t hold her without feeling the weight of one who didn’t make it on his heart.

But at least he can say her damn name.

“An’ cheers to that,” Tommy smiles, lightly clinking his bottle against Joel’s. “How’s Ellie doin’, anyway?”

He tips his head toward the living room.

“Better,” Joel says, surprised to find he means it. “Think she’s settlin’ in alright.”

“She’s warmin’ up to me,” Tommy grins. “I know she’s been a little prickly. But the other day she caught me at the stables to ask about goin’ on patrols.”

“What’d you tell her?”

“She’s gotta be sixteen to start trainin’…and she needs your permission. Mighta told her that wouldn’t be a problem,” he grins. “Told her I could sweet talk you into just about anythin’.”

Joel rolls his eyes. “Christ.”

“Offered to take her out at some point if it’s alright with you. Just her and me. Said she’d think about it. That’s somethin’, right?”

The hopeful note in his voice is almost heartbreaking. Sarah and her uncle had been thick as thieves, and Tommy’s eagerness to fill that role for Ellie radiated off him like heat off the pavement in a Texas July. He’d been standing on their doorstep two days after they’d come back to Jackson, ready to be the best damn uncle there ever was.

But Ellie was like a feral cat, slow to warm and quick to bite. Didn’t matter that Tommy was family, didn’t matter that Joel trusted him more than anyone else in Jackson, didn’t matter that Tommy would have let her get away with murder if she asked nice. Whether out of jealousy or fear, she’d resisted his careful advances and bribes.

“Yeah…that’s somethin’,” Joel agrees, smirking. 

“How ‘bout you?”

“How ‘bout me what?”

“How’re you settlin’ in?”

Joel snorts. “You sound like Ezra.”

“Yeah? Well…couldn’t hurt to make some friends, maybe.”

“M’fine, Tommy.”

Tommy shrugs. “Just sayin’. If you’re not careful, Maria’ll try to set you up. Likes to think she’s a matchmaker with all that spare time of hers.”

Joel tries and fails to hide a shudder. Yeah, he’s noticed the attention. It’s a small town with an even smaller dating pool, and he might as well be fresh meat thrown into the lion’s den. Ellie gets a kick out of watching him squirm when women approach him at the caf, is all too eager to string them along on his behalf when she really wants to be a shit-stirrer.

His asshole voice gets plenty of use.

Maybe if it were the right person…well. That would be a different story, one that makes him think of the album on his dresser again.

But he’s sure as hell not gonna tell Tommy any of that.

“M’not lookin’ for anything,” he mutters instead, sipping at his beer. “Got my hands full with that one.”

Ellie sits with the baby in her lap. They’ve turned their attention to the packages under the tree. Joel watches as Ellie picks up the presents one by one, checking the tags and shaking them, then offering them to Izzy to chew on. Tomorrow, half the presents will be sticky with drool and tiny teeth marks.

“You sure do, brother,” Tommy chuckles. “You sure do.”

[orangechickenpillow]

When Damon finds Ezra's stash and threatens to take it, and Ezra knows he's going to have to kill Damon if he wants to survive, there's this moment where he looks at Cee, and it's almost like he's already feeling guilty about what he's going to inevitably do.

Like even though he doesn't know her yet, and his life is literally on the line, his mind still goes to her for a moment. The fact that he's so aware of her is just really neat to me.

Idk man, I just can't with this movie.

[lowlights]

I see Ezra is one of your favorites. He doesn't get enough love. What are some hcs you have for him? Scandalous or otherwise ;)

I love him. And Prospect. I have many thoughts, some filthy-

-Ezra never imagined that he would like any domesticity. He didn't want to feel tied down or that he is stuck. He's always prided himself on being a wanderer, chasing a high with a new job on an unfamiliar planet. But when he finds you...everything changes. He's never felt like he had a home until you. His home is right by your side.

-Ezra loves to tell stories, and he loves to hear stories too. He likes to read but I don't actually think he's very good at it. I think it was @ezrasbirdie that first floated this HC and it has stuck with me ever since. I think he would love to be read to out loud. He likes to fiddle with something while he listens, and he gets distracted watching your lips move. He likes your cute little frown when he asks you to reread a passage because he hasn't heard a word you said. He makes the frown turn to a smile with a kiss and a murmured apology.

-Ez is a sweetie, but he is filthy. He is greedy and grabby and encompassing. He wants everything from you, every moan and gasp and orgasm. He likes it messy- he wants your cum on his tongue and on his fingers and between his thighs. He's hungry for you.

-Ezra can read people so well. He can switch on his charisma and amp up his accent to disarm strangers, and study them quickly to find their tells. They weaknesses. It's kept him alive, so shrewdly sizing up the people he meets and exploiting them for his own survival. I think it would be really hard for him to turn that off, and he would have to learn what it means to settle into safety.

-Ezra likes to whisper the most explicit and menacing things in your ear while you're in public. Promises of what he wants to do to you when you get home, or how he can still taste you from the night before. He wants to watch you attempt to keep control, although he can practically feel the heat from your cheeks from three feet away. He knows that he's won when your words falter or you fumble whatever is in your hands. Don't worry- he always follows through on his promises.

[spookyxsam]

When it’s dark & gloomy outside thanks to statewide severe weather warnings, it’s our sweet cow-eyed baby boys birthday, and you’re reviewing the effects of trauma in adolescence on adult romantic relationships (as you’d normally do on a Tuesday evening 😉)…

One can’t help but have all sorts of angsty, inappropriate, and most definitely unhealthy thots about our beloved blorbos and those qualities that make them a little rough around the edges.

[nerdieforpedro]

So… 👀 I wrote some Din Djarin smut because he’s been on my mind like white on rice. I’ll have that up around lunch time (12 noon EST).

I might even mess around and write some Frankie and Javi P today too. There’s plenty to go around. FYI, Javi P wouldn’t be smut. Frankie would be all the smut.

Also part four of “The Lake Between Us”’will be up Sunday morning (7:00 am EST). 🤭

[sotvtaughtmehowtofeel]

“This is unfair. You used my adoration for you against me.” Ezra’s voice was quiet.

He was right, and she had done it on purpose. She raised one eyebrow at him, keeping her face blank, despite staring at the scar on his cheek instead of meeting his gaze.  She couldn’t look him in the eye without a stab of guilt. His soft fucking looks always hit her hard, usually made her feel cared for; how dare he use one against her. It somehow made her feel more and less guilty for tricking him.

“You weren’t listening to me.”

“Now, little bird, there are times when the additional years I carry on yours and the vast breadth of experience I hold bestow upon-”

“You’re not listening!” she repeated, resisting the urge to stomp her foot out of frustration, clenching her fists instead, refusing to project any image of childishness to him when he was trying to pull the “adult” card on her. She was nearly sixteen, and on some planets that was old enough to leave into the Black alone.

Ezra liked to point out that that was on some planets, neither Kamrea nor Lau among them. How dare he use her ambiguous homeworld against her. She clenched her jaw, watching him as her eyebrows drew down farther, even though he had finally shut the fuck up and was watching her.

“What do you want me to understand?” he asked her quietly.

“I’m not a child,” she muttered.

“I’d risk pointing out that manipulating me through affection rather than-” he paused at the look she gave him. He sighed. “I am failing to listen to you again, I see. Carry on.”

“We’re supposed to be partners, but you wouldn’t even entertain the idea.” She scowled at him. “You shut it down. Immediately.” She shifted on her feet, dropping her gaze to somewhere to his right. “Like my father would have.”

His face changed then, and his eyes dropped to the ground. He twisted his lips briefly, nodded once, and crossed his arm across his chest to tug at his shoulder. “I see.”

She didn’t know how to explain the rest. How she would shut down when her father turned on her like that. How she would still crave the validation of his agreement. How she’d never had any hope of turning whatever affection her father had once had for her into a catalyst for what she wanted. 

How she wanted Ezra to be different.

So she just looked at him, raised both her eyebrows, and repeated quietly, “You weren’t listening.”

Ezra took a step toward her, wrapped his arm around her shoulders, and pulled her into him. “You’re right, little bird. I’m sorry.”

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

Thanks @not-so-mundane-after-all for sharing the writing prompt that led to this ("This is unfair. You used my adoration for you against me")!

[miranhas-art]

Digital Drawing testing 2

Ezra and Cee

[adancedivasmom]

I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything more beautiful than Ezra in the Green.

Source

[jessahmewren]

I have to say your Prospect fics sparked inspiration in many of us. If you could only see us collectively falling apart and screaming about your writing! I'm going to write something for these two as well and I have you and your stories to thank for that boost of creativity and courage 💚

We prospectors got each other's backs!

*Screams into the void* You guys talk about my writing? :')

I have admired your work for so long. I cannot WAIT to read your Cee and Ezra; you're going to bring such a tangible sensitivity to them I just know it.

Thank you for inspiring ME to continue.

[bonezone44]

Ezra. my sexy lil sadist. my rotten soldier. my good time boy. my pet play tomcat. my trickster. my shape-shifter. my mischief maker. my

[kirsteng42]

How can this man still look sexy as a sweaty mess???

"I need your help."