#so grateful for fandom coming through for us

[queers-gambit]

Endure and Survive

prompt: ( x4 ? requested ) you need Joel to survive after enduring the unimaginable.

pairing: Joel Miller x female!wife!reader -> only height mentioned: you're shorter than Joel

fandom masterlist: HBO's The Last of Us

word count: 12k+

warnings: obvious spoilers, S2E2 reader insert, Fix It Joel, Joel Miller survives / lives, AU timeline, cursing, mentions blood and injury, guns, dead bodies, parentified!reader, wife!reader, found family obviously - Ellie calls you 'mom'. mentions of explicit material: marijuana / weed, the horses have names idc, established relationship, angst, hurt / comfort, drama, depiction of anxiety and panic attacks, not edited, Lord's name in vain, single Spanish word. imagination, caution, and maturity required. happy but abrupt ending, possible (past) morally grey!reader, petnames.

You woke earlier than your husband as usual, humming in the first streaks of morning light; stretching minimally as to not wake the man beside you, whose bare legs were tangled with yours. However, try as you might, the arm coiled around your waist constricted to a bruising strength; which caused your lips to stretch in a bemused grin.

"Sun ain't up," his gruff, gravely voice grated in your ear.

"Mh," you hummed, "but it is."

"Not if you shut your eyes."

"Still work that needs done."

"C'mon, baby, can spare another hour."

With a sigh, you laid your arm over his, "You know today's not the day for delay." He huffed, knowing you were right. "You know," you turned over in his embrace to greet the lightly tanned face aged with freckles and faint liver spots, decorated with few scars, "should ask Ellie t'go on patrol with you this mornin'."

"Baby."

"Joel."

"She's... Still a bit pissed."

"Okay, but what teenage daughter isn't?" You snickered.

"She ain't mad at you."

"'Cause I let her fight her own battles."

"Oh, so, now it's my fault for wantin' to protect her?"

"I didn't say that," you sighed with a patient smile. "But Ellie's not that vulnerable, green 14-year-old we met in Boston, baby. And... Look, I'm not saying Seth ain't deserve it, but they were walking away. You and I could've gone a different route, you know?"

"As her parents - "

"It's our right to protect our kid," you insisted. "But consider the circumstances, I think you embarrassed her a little."

"How?" You just offered him a knowing look, making Joel groan, "Fine, all right? Fine, I know, it was public - "

"So very public."

"And she was gonna say her own piece... But if not then, when the fuck am I supposed to step in? What he said was homophobic, doll, if we let him get away with it, would've opened the door for him or anyone else to run their mouth."

"We beat the shit outta him in an alley, of course. Or, you know, maaaybe we go out on patrol together and maaaybe they don't come back?"

"Yeah, yeah," he groaned, "but I ain't think."

"That's one thing I love about you - you act first. It's very noble, like you just have this inherent sense of right and wrong. Never really need time to think."

Joel chuckled, "It's too early for the sweet talk."

"It's never too early - especially when you're protectin' our girl. It's hot..."

"You just said - "

"I never said you were wrong, I'm just trying to take Ellie's perspective into account. Look, she's at that age where life feels invincible, where she's been through more than we can truly fathom - so, she feels twice the age she really is. But she's still young, still a trigger-happy-moron and will never stop needing her parents. She just wants to feel like she's a bit of independence, like we trust her to fight her own battles and handle her own shit. I think we're supposed to just... I don't know, keep watch and jump in if she can't handle it. You know? But we gotta give her the opportunity to do it on her own in the first place."

Joel offered you a side-ways glance, "You been talkin' to Gail?"

"Fuck off," you snickered, trying to sit up but being wrangled back into the sheets. "Joel," you laughed, "we gotta get gone. C'mon, you heard what happened last night - "

"Just ten more minutes, baby, please."

"You really wanna risk Maria siccing Benji on us again? I'm pretty sure we traumatized him last time, Maria said he kept asking if that's where babies come from."

You swore his cheeks bloomed brightly, but it was quickly hidden as his face shoved into your neck with a gruff sort of whimper. "Guess not..."

Taking pity, your hands shot into his salty locks to rake your nails over his scalp soothingly. "Ten minutes, handsome, then I gotta get to the stable."

Ten minutes with Joel turned into 30 easily, but it was worth the reprimand from Maria just to be able to get extra time in his arms and peacefully have coffee together before a long day. She asked you to send Ellie to her before she left on patrol, then requested you go with her - if only for your own peace of mind, knowing she's safe. After the previous night's report of a horde of Infected lying in wait under the snow and about 30 other frozen Infected used as insulation, she felt better sending you with the two young adults.

However, during your morning chores in the stables, you were surprised to see Joel, Dina, and Jesse enter together; asking for their usual mounts as the young man leaned on the stall beside you.

You shot Joel an annoyed look, but he just sighed, "I wanted t'go with her, baby, swear; but Ellie had a long night, you know? Should let her sleep a bit."

"Joel."

"It's all right, Dina said she'd go instead."

Your head shook, "Fine, but we're having family dinner tonight - no exceptions. Y'all gotta talk this shit out, okay? The tension's drivin' me insane."

"Me too," Dina quipped with a small smirk.

"Me three," Jesse chimed in, snickering when you and Joel pinned him with looks; only yours was out of amusement and his, out of annoyance.

"Family dinner, kid," he repeated.

You chuckled with Jesse and Dina, asking the young man, "Whatcha need, bud? You goin' with them, too? We sending trios now?"

"Nah, Maria said I'm going with you and Ellie," Jesse informed, and only Dina clocked the way Joel's shoulders released from the perpetual tension they were haunched in.

"Yeah, all right, cool," you agreed with a small sniffle. "Lemme get these two up and out - I'll get our horses after."

"Baby," Joel stepped up, "let Ellie sleep a bit more."

"We'll have her up for 8 o'clock patrol," you nodded, wrapping your arms around his waist to hang off his form and for hands to squeeze your hips. "Now, what're y'all gonna do?"

"Radio in."

"How often?"

"Every 20 minutes, doll."

"And?"

"Stay safe."

"And?"

"Don't be reckless."

"And?"

"Am I forgettin' one of your rules?"

"Mhm, I literally just said it - "

"Oh! I know, I know!" Dina waved her hand in the air, grinning, "Be home in time for family dinner!"

"That's my smart girl," you praised, making the girl preen with pride.

Joel chuckled, "Yeah, sugar, we'll be back in time. Channel 7 for us, right?"

"Exactly," you breathed, sudden nerves spiking to make your face fall as your eyes swept over his face. "Listen to me, don't play hero, Joel, y'all are just scoutin' the area, all right? You get the fuck outta there if something's up, don't try t'fight."

"I know, honey."

"And bring my Dina home in one piece, please. Preferably, fully thawed and unscathed."

Joel smirked, "Always do. You stay safe, too, baby. Hey - keep an eye on my wife, kid," he directed at Jesse.

"She's the one with a quick drawl, usually saves my ass," he mused.

"Then don't need saving," Joel warned in a growl.

"Yes, sir."

"Okay, that's enough," with a chuckle, you patted Joel's waist and released him. In an effort to help you all identify one another when out there, you informed, "Dina, you're on Butterscotch, Joel, I got you on Cooper. Jesse, you're gonna be on Dewey, I'll put Ellie on Bean, and I'm taking Luxor."

Dina smiled as she approached her horse, "Thanks, Y/N. We'll be back soon."

"Yeah, I'll grab Ellie and meet you at the gate," Jesse agreed.

"Oh, uh, Maria wants a word before we go - so, can you make sure Ellie sees her?"

"Yes, ma'am. Where at?"

"Uh, probably the cantina - Tommy's gonna address the people, she'll be there with Benji."

"Right. On it," he offered you his fist to bump before heading out of the stable to do whatever he needed prior to patrol.

"Hey," Joel muttered, earning your attention, "you look worried. You good, baby?"

"Yeah, just... Something in the air, I guess." You glanced at Dina a few stalls up, lowering your voice, "It's remindin' me of KC, you know? Them fuckers lying in wait underground?"

"I know, baby, me too."

"And after Ellie's report, sounds like they're evolvin'. Joel, just... Be careful out there, all right? Don't take any chances, please, and just - look, I know you're not one to run from danger, but things are different now. You don't always gotta be so brave and tough, sometimes it's for the greater good to just run."

"I'll keep Dina safe, we won't take no risks, sweetheart. Promise."

"Good," you sighed. "C'mere, besos, please."

"Lessons with Tommy payin' off, I see," he grinned with pride. "Love hearin' you talk like that, baby, does somethin' t'me."

"I know, that's why I'm learnin'," you whispered, lifting to your toes in order to press a kiss to his lips. "Love you, handsome."

"Hm," he kept you close, stealing another kiss, "love you more, sweetheart. You be careful, too. We got dinner plans."

"Exactly. Now, go on, get gone, the sooner y'all head out, sooner you'll be back, right?"

"In theory."

"Make it in practice," you snipped, smirking into one final kiss. Joel sighed and released you, turning to grab Cooper. You left Luxor on cross ties to walk the pair to the front gate; hand laced tightly with Joel's as the three of you made mindless conversation about whatever you planned for dinner. You gave Dina a leg-up into her saddle, bidding, "Stay safe, kid."

"Always am," she smiled.

"Fuckin' liar, just listen to Joel, please, c'mon," you snorted, making her laugh as you turned for your husband.

"I'll see you soon," he assured, pecking your lips before hauling himself to Cooper's saddle. You frowned and kept pace with his side, calling for the gates to open. "Love you, baby," Joel hushed as he nudged his horse forward.

"Love you," you called, keeping the nerves out of your tone; watching them through the gate as the air turned poignant. You couldn't pin point it, but something felt... Strange. Off. Odd. Unsure and disproportionate. You heard the gate guards announce their departure, watching them for only a few moments before gesturing for the door to close up.

You missed the way Joel turned in the saddle to catch the last fleeting glimpse of you before the wood cut off all sight. Dina smirked, "Dude, you're whipped."

"Got a lady like mine, you would be, too. Now, c'mon."

Ellie pinned you with an unamused glare as she and Jesse approached about an hour later, taking hold of Bean's reins while snipping, "Really? You tell Seth to fucking apologize?"

"What's that?" You blinked.

"You said Maria wanted to talk to me - it was so Seth could apologize or whatever."

"Oh. Hm..."

"You didn't know?"

"Nah, kid, Maria just told me she wanted a word before we left," you informed, letting Jesse take the reins of his horse, Dewey. "I've learned my lesson 'bout askin' stupid questions. Usually, questionin' Maria is stupid."

"Right," she sighed, watching you from her own saddle as you mounted Luxor. The three of you moved together out of Jackson's gates, hearing the guards announce the departure, and venturing into the vast, open nothingness. Ellie eyed the grey skies wearily, asking you, "Are we worrying about that?"

"Nah, should just be up in the mountains," Jesse answered for the both of you - but for an unshakeable reason, you couldn't agree.

"Fucking hope so," Ellie mused. "Ten seconds in, I already can't feel my ass."

"You get some breakfast, babe?" You asked, eyeing Ellie.

"Huh? Oh, uh, no, but I'm all right."

"Fuck that," you sighed, reaching for the saddle bag. "Here, I got, uh... It ain't much, but eggs are good protein."

"Oh..." Ellie accepted the two hard boiled eggs you produced; unwrapping the cling wrap to hand back. Supplies were few and far between, everyone saving whatever material they could for repeat use after cleaning it. "Thanks, Y/N." You nodded, nudging Luxor into a trot. "Hey, uh... You let Joel and Dina go alone?"

"'Let'?" You snorted, "C'mon, honey, you know either of them to do anything I say?"

"Joel, yes... Dina... Not so much."

You and Jesse chuckled, turning off towards Cottonwood as a harsh, bitter wind swept over the three of you. It felt like the hand of Death; doing what you could to ignore your anxiety.

Amy's radio transmission barely reached you as the blizzard had rolled over the town you trotted through. She called for all patrols to return to Jackson, but the wind, snow, and frigid temperatures prevented your escape; already a couple hours from home base. Naturally, you were the decision maker and informed Amy you'd shelter in place until the worst of the storm had passed, leading Jesse and Ellie towards one of the cleared-out garages you knew of in the ghost town.

The horses were left with a supply of hay, knowing they needed rest and fed before attempting to brave the weather back to Jackson. You were familiar with this particular area after clearing and securing it just that past fall with Jesse, the two youngsters following you at a jog for the usual convenience store patrol members had commandeered. You yanked the door open, met with the sweeping smell of stale weed and seeping snow; panting as you slammed the door and dropped your pack almost instantly.

"You good? You all right?" You checked the kids, watching Jesse nod as Ellie was stalking around the rows of growing marijuana plants.

"Am I fucking hallucinating?" She asked gleefully.

"Maybe. Do you see a 7-Eleven full of weed?" Jesse mused, trailing after you towards the radio.

"Yep."

"Then no," he sighed, kneeling before the wood stove. "Hey, Y/N?"

"Yeah, honey?" You asked, turning the radio dial with a single headphone pressed to your ear.

"Whatchu want me to do 'bout this?"

Glancing over, you tried to wrack your memory, "Nothin' viable in there?"

"Some but not much."

"Try to light what you can," you nodded. "There's spare wood in the back. With luck, it's still dry."

"All right, yeah," he panted, the cold blistering as it seeped into all bones and cracked drying skin.

"How'd you know about this place?" Ellie wondered, still admiring the stoner's paradise.

"Eugene," Jesse answered with an undertone of remorse. Ellie's face fell, recognizing the name from the many times Dina had mentioned the old man. "He was my first patrol partner. One day, he showed it to me, said he found it a year earlier when he was on a solo patrol. Swore me to secrecy. Said Maria wouldn't be supportive of his, uh, farming."

"What about you, Y/N?"

You just shrugged, "I know everything, kid. Was a young thing in the '90s, I know what's up."

Jesse snickered as Ellie went quiet; making the lad look up in curiosity only to spy her at a spare table, examining an old medallion similar to a dogtag. He asked, "You okay?"

She paused, then breathing, "Yeah."

"Y/N, you got a lighter?"

"Uh, should be one or eight around here, kid," you answered, still receiving only static over the radio.

"Right," he sniffled, rummaging around to locate one with enough lighter fluid.

He got the fire going at last as Ellie questioned, "Eugene was a Firefly?"

"Yup. Just early on, though."

"Served with Tommy," you piped up, sparing a small glance and a smirk over your shoulder before refocusing.

"He quit back in 2010," Jesse continued.

"How come?"

"He said he was tired of killing people. I think he was in Vietnam."

"Oh."

Jesse grabbed a spare blanket, handing it to Ellie and nodding at you while taking a seat before the stove. She stood from where she'd sat on the side of a cot, unwrapping the wool to drape around your shoulders for you. "Thanks, baby girl," you muttered, barely aware of the added warmth.

"Come sit by the fire," she mumbled, squeezing your shoulders before returning to her seat.

It was quiet, the two sat in contemplation. Jesse spoke with bitterness over the haunting memory, "That was a raw deal. Joel having to put Eugene down..."

"Hey," you snapped, looking at him with a fierce side-eye. "Know y'all were friends, but Joel ain't do nothin' but deliver mercy. Eugene had a fuckin' stroke, wasn't easy for anyone involved."

Jesse nodded in agreement, "Just a fuckin' shame. Guy makes it through a war, end up goin' out like that." He sighed, "What are you gonna do? Like Y/N said, couldn't be saved."

"Yeah," Ellie breathed. "Hey, Y/N? ... Y/N? ... Y/N!"

"I got it, I got it!" You cried, radio clearing for a moment. You grabbed the CB, "Joel? Joel? Come in, Joel!" You waited a moment, sliding the headphones over your ears, readjusting on your knees and trying to dial the signal into anything stronger. "Joel, come in! C'mon, baby, answer the fucking radio!" But you only earned more static. "God fuckin' damnit! Told him to check in with me on channel 7 - right, Jesse?"

"Yeah, right, every 20 minutes, ma'am," he shared a nervous look with Ellie. "Look, I'm sure they're doin' the same - sheltering in place - "

"Joel!" You tried again, growling in frustration, "This fucking storm, man, I can't get through - it's all fucking static. Joel! C'mon, come in! Joel, Dina? Hey! Someone fucking answer me! Please!" But there was no answer. "Fuck!" Your fist banged on the bulky machine.

"Try Jackson, we might be in range," advised Ellie, the cold seeping into her lungs to make her voice quake.

You sighed, changing the channel and trying again, "Jackson, come in, Jackson. This is Cottonwood, come in... Tommy? Hey, come in, Jackson! This is Cottonwood... Amy! Amy, can you hear me? Over."

"Think we're gonna be here a while," Ellie mused to Jesse.

"Yeah. Hey, Y/N. C'mon, come get warm - leave the channel open, they'll radio in when they can."

But you were switching back to channel 7, "Joel? Hey, come in Copper Mine, this is Cottonwood. Someone fucking answer me! Joel! Dina! Come in! C'mon, I need to know y'all are okay! Come in, Copper Mine! This is Cottonwood..." But the static mocked you. "Joel, it's Y/N, please, fucking answer! Come in! Joel, please! Over..." You switched back to Jackson's channel, "Jackson, this is Cottonwood. Please, someone, come in! I-I can't get ahold of Copper Mine, please, come in... Amy, Tommy, I can't get ahold of Joel, come in! This is Cottonwood, we're sheltering in place - please, answer! Over..." This continued for another hour before you were gritting your teeth and leaving the channel open, still dialing, calling over the waves every so often - hoping someone, even another patrol group, would check in. But the wind and snow fucked everyone's radio transmission.

Ellie leaned over to Jesse, muttering, "Should we pack her a bowl? Sounds like she needs it."

Jesse snickered and nudged her shoulder, Ellie grinning as she stood to begin snooping; leaving the lad to stretch out on the cot. He watched you for a little bit before slowly shutting his eyes as the wood stove soon warmed them.

"Jesse," a muffled voice leered.

"What?"

"Check it," Ellie encouraged. When you looked up from your place by the stove, finally taking refuge by the heat, you discovered Ellie wearing a refurbished gas mask with a bong attached to the mouth piece.

You couldn't help the bark of laughter, shaking your head as Jesse scoffed and looked away from the sight.

Ellie giggled, yanking the mask off, "Did he make this?"

"Yeah."

"I'm taking this with me."

"Uh, no, ma'am, you're not," your smile dropped.

"Oh, c'mon," Ellie whined.

"Listen to your mom, kid," Jesse leered in a bored tone. "You're not taking that."

Instead of correcting him that you weren't her mother (by birth), she just sighed, "Yes, I am. And as much weed as I can shove into my pack."

"Ellie," you scolded.

"You said yourself, you did this shit in the '90s."

Your eyes rolled, "It was a different time."

"I'm still taking it, if the apocalypse isn't the time to get high, I don't know when is."

"Nope," Jesse now chimed, "leave it, Ellie."

"Dude, you're gonna be in charge of Jackson one day, we all know - but that day has not yet come."

"Y/N has superiority, she said - "

But Jesse cut himself off when the radio finally fucking came to life, the static clear - but Amy's voice cutting in and out as she tried to reach your party. He watched as you scrambled to your feet, leaving the wool blanket in place on the floor, and rushed to drop before the machine; knees nearly cracking from the impact.

"Repeat, Jackson?" You called over the CB; trying to carefully enhance the signal.

"Copper Mine, do you copy?"

"Hey! Hey! This is Y/N, you're barely there... Amy? Do you copy? This is Cottonwood. Over."

You waited only a moment, finding a sweet spot to hear the distorted reply, "Y/N, have - Joel or Dina?"

"Repeat? Jackson, come in, you're breaking up! Repeat last message!" You turned the dial with tears slowly gathering out of pure nerves and anxiety.

"Have - heard - Joel or Dina?"

You pieced the message together, nervously replying as Ellie slowly approached your shoulder, "No, why?"

"They haven't checked in," Amy answered. "Are - you - Copper Mine?"

"Fuck," Ellie hissed over your shoulder.

"Amy, repeat?" You pleaded. "Amy!" But the static was back. "Amy, come back!" You released the transmission to growl, "Fucking fuck, fuck, fuck!" Trying again, you begged, "Amy!"

But there was no answer, making you climb to your feet. "Woah, hey, Y/N! Y/N, wait!" Jesse yelped as you snatched your pack from the ground and rushed around the hideout. Ellie was on your tail.

"We're not far from Copper Mine, let's fucking go! We can't leave them out there like this! C'mon!" You barked, hearing him sigh and follow swiftly without protest. Ellie and Jesse followed you out the door, sprinting towards the garage and yanking the nearly iced-closed door up.

"Y/N, hang on a second - "

You snarled, "Fuck that! My husband's out there, Jesse, I'm goin' after them! We don't know how far they got, but they're not back home and they're not radioing in!"

"I know," he agreed as you and Ellie reached for your horses. "Look, the route's an oval around the mine. We gotta split up and come at it from both sides. Northwest and northeast. You two go together, we meet up in the middle."

"We'll take northeast," Ellie agreed, trio leading the horses towards the open door. "How much time do you think we have?"

"Go, c'mon," you directed them, Luxor trained enough to stand as you gave Ellie a leg-up. Jesse was mounting on his own as you answered her question, "If the wind holds steady, maybe 20 minutes."

"You gotta get to the mine by then," Jesse picked up, his authority ringing clear, "Ellie, Y/N, whether you find them or not."

"Yeah, you fucking too, Jesse," Ellie snarled, spurring her horse into the blizzard.

"Go! And be careful!" You demanded, smacking Dewey on the flank to send him and Jesse into the storm. You paused only to pull the garage door back down, Luxor already walking forward; making you jog to keep pace and hop to catch the stirrup. He was breaking into a canter by the time you were seated, spurring the ebony mount after Ellie and Bean as Jesse was cutting to the side.

"Y/N!" Ellie hollered over the wind.

"I'm right here, baby!" You cried, eyes squinted in the stinging, whipping, frigid air. "Don't stop, don't stop, I'm here, just go! C'mon! Stay with me, Ellie! C'mon, cut this way!" You directed Luxor, hearing Bean change direction after you. "We don't stop!" After several minutes, you checked, "Baby girl? You still with me?"

"I'm here!" She called from behind you.

"Keep going!"

"Y/N! The fucking snow - it's too thick! I can't see shit!"

"Don't fucking stop, we'll make it! Just stay with me, baby, c'mon, let's go! We're all right, we gotta make it!" By a stroke of pure luck, you heard a chatter over your radio. "HOLD!" You cried to Ellie, Luxor whinnying in protest as you skidded to a slippery halt; wrangling your hand radio from your belt. In time, you heard Joel, "Y/N? Y/N, come in! C'mon, baby, fucking answer me!"

"Joel!?"

"Y/N!"

"Joel, Joel, I-I copy! I copy!"

"Good t'hear your voice, baby."

"Where the fuck are you!?" You cried, Ellie looking relieved for a split moment before light static was heard instead of his deep, Southern accent. Yet... Something told you this wasn't just silence, but something else. Something worrisome. "Joel? Joel! No, no, no, come back! Joel! Answer me! JOEL!"

"The storm!" Ellie reminded.

"It's not the fucking storm," you panted, confusion marring your usually pleasant expression. You tried again, "Joel, come in! Do you copy!? Joel, please! Baby, fucking ANSWER me!"

Unknown to you, Joel heard your desperate pleas but couldn't answer as Abby and her mini militia had taken a frostbitten Dina hostage; gun to her temple, semi-automatic pointed at him in threat.

"Joel, where are you? Where are you, Joel, fucking come in!" You begged, shaking your head at Ellie as the silence was deafening; own automatic rifle suddenly burning into where it was latched to your saddle, pressing to your thigh. "Fuck! We keep moving - "

"Where?"

"North, c'mon, there's better signal outta the fucking trees. Let's go, baby, keep up!"

"Go! I'm right behind you!"

As a last ditch effort, you held the reins in one hand as the other radioed, "Joel, where the fuck are you!? Please!" You prayed the further north you got, the better signal. "Come in! Baby, please, please, we're fucking worried! Come in, please! JOEL! For fuck's sake!" No response, but you found something in the snow... Tracks. "Ellie! Ellie, follow the tracks - don't lose 'em! They're still fresh!"

You galloped forward, still trying in vain to reach Joel; who was wailing in pain as Abby bludgeoned his blown-out knee to the sounds of your frantic cries of his name. It was almost as if you could sense what was happening, wanting to be there with him in his end Abby promised to bring.

"Y/N, LOOK!" Ellie called, pulling her horse to a rearing-halt, eyes in the distance from mid-hill you climbed. "FUCKING STOP AND LOOK!"

"Ellie, we don't got time! The snow's gonna cover - "

"LOOK!"

You yanked Luxor to another halt, whipping him around towards Ellie - but seeing where she pointed. Through the valley, you could make out the sight of Jackson from miles away, mouth agape to gasp, "Oh, my fucking God."

"What the hell is that?"

You blinked back tears, "J-Jackson. Fuck, the Infected, they must've found 'em."

"Wh-What do we do? What the hell do we do, Y/N?" You had to think fast, fear seizing hold of your heart. "Do we go back? Or move on?"

You sniffled, "Tommy's got Jackson - that's the fire, see? We... We move on! We find Joel and Dina, these have gotta be their tracks, baby, we're so close now. We can't stop."

"Y/N..."

"You go back if you want! Back to the fucking 7-Eleven, but I'm not leaving without Joel! Are you with me?"

"What if they're not alone?"

"Then I fucking pray for those stupid fucking souls," you snarled, both hoods drawn in the thick, blinding flurries. "Now are you with me, baby girl?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fucking with you. Let's go."

You spurred Luxor around and followed the fading-fast tracks left in the blanket of crunchy snow. After several yards, you called, "C'mon, keep pace with me, Ellie - don't tire them out too bad, we gotta make the trip home!"

"I'm right here!"

Up the hill, you let Luxor and Bean canter at their set, desired pace; taking your own advice not to tire them too greatly. As you got up to a semi-even outcrop, you saw something over the treetops. "Ellie? Ellie, you see that?"

"What the fuck? What's up here?"

"Lodges? Ski resorts?" You guessed, encouraging Luxor faster.

"Y/N, there! There, look!" Ellie gasped, horses snorting with exertion when you halted once more. "Is that...?"

"Cooper and Butterscotch," you breathed. "Joel and Dina must've taken shelter - c'mon!"

"Why're they here? Copper Mine's back down - "

"I don't fucking care why, Ellie, they're here!" Realizing your tone and how it made the nervous girl frown, you apologized, "I-I'm sorry, baby girl, I'm just - I don't know what's going on. Okay? Something ain't right. Now, c'mon, please, Ellie, c'mon." You eyed the building, an old ski lodge some richie-rich must've owned before the Outbreak. "Hey, hey," you hushed, coming to another halt behind the tethered horses, hand held up with warning, "you see anythin'? Any movement?"

"No?"

"The windows, Ellie. C'mon, honey, use them young eyes for me."

She squinted in the sideways snow, but the reflective windows didn't show anything inside, no movement; making her head shake. "N-Nothing, I don't see anything."

"That's not exactly a good thing," you noted. "Dismount, we go on foot."

"What's the plan, Y/N?"

Your boots crunched into the snow, quickly binding Luxor's reins to the broken-down privacy fence surrounding the lodge's perimeter. Your breath came out in a puff of air, telling her as she followed your actions, "We go in smart. Check the first floor, we move up," you unlatched your rifle from the saddle. "We don't know what the fuck's inside. Don't shoot any movement on sight, we don't know where Joel and Dina are."

"Should you try the radio again?"

You gazed up at the windows, something sickly bubbling in your gut, "No... No, we go in - what if... What if?"

"There's Infected? Joel's got it - "

"C'mon," you worried, nodding at her after you, "I'm not willing to fucking wait."

"Right," she hurried after you.

"Quiet, quiet, quiet, shhh-hh-hhhh" you hushed, racking your rifle in favor of your handgun; reaching for the still in-tact door. It opened easily as if recently accessed, Ellie stepping silently inside after you and catching the door before it slammed shut. You nodded in praise, side-stepping over yourself as the ground floor appeared as just abandoned construction.

Ellie grabbed your sleeve, your worried eyes turning to her, but she silently pointed up towards the ceiling. You tuned in, hearing muffled thumping and feeling all air deflate from your pinched lungs. Worried that it wasn't the usual erratic sound of a feasting Infected, thinking it sounded too timed and planned, you looked back to Ellie - intent to whisper a plan - but she was surging ahead of you.

"Ellie! Stay together! Ellie! Don't!" You hissed, huffing as she disappeared around a corner as the sounds of distant screaming seeped from the floor above you. "Fuck's sake. I'm gettin' too old for this fuckin' shit." You peaked around the immediate corners, not finding any signs of life - but flinching when a gunshot echoed in the space around you. Taking cover, you realized the sounds were coming from up the stairs, gasping in worry for your adopted daughter, "Ellie!" To yourself, you hissed, "Fuckin' told you to stay together, fuck!"

The sounds of a squabble grew louder, Ellie's snarls ringing clear as you swiped the safety off. You followed her wet footprints, discovering an open door leading into the lodge's expansive living room - or perhaps, just one of them. You ducked when movement rushed in a flurry, catching sight of Ellie being wrangled to the ground; a stranger kneeling on her back. However, the worst sight was just beyond; before the vast windows showcasing Jackson's demise, one of the unknown forms moved aside to reveal your husband limp on the ground... Bloodied face seemingly staring out at you. His finger twitched, breathing staggered - and when his lips tugged, knew he saw you. Knew you'd always come for him. Even in a fucking blizzard, even when so worryingly outnumbered... But Joel wouldn't bet against you, no matter the circumstance.

He was overturned on his chest, blood pooling under him, immobile from his shattered leg, and there were at least four - no, no, five, you counted five - bodies inside. You barely remembered protocol, feeling something white-hot and feral burst in your chest upon hearing Ellie struggling and crying. Eyes cast back over Joel and you lifted your gun...

"JOEL!" Ellie screamed from the floor, whose fingers twitched with minimal recognition. "Joel! Joel! Joel, get up! Joel, FUCKING GET UP!"

However, one man roared at her, "Stupid fucking bitch!"

"No! No!" Two men struggled inside, distracting the others.

"Fuck you!" The man with a thin upper lip mustache shoved his companion aside. "The bitch fucking cut me!" You smirked in fleeting pride, amusement dropping when he stomped up to Ellie and swiftly kicked her in the ribs; causing her to choke on the air stolen from her lungs. You flinched at the sound of her cracking rib; Joel's eyes locked on you. The stranger lifted his foot again as if to stomp on her, but his friend - with sandy locks - intercepted him and shoved him back several feet. "I'll fucking kill her!"

"She ain't who we want!"

They all - minus Joel - missed the way you silently stepped in. A hunter, a solider, a mother and wife dead set on protecting her loved ones. You aimed at the most obvious threat after a handgun flashed in one of the men's hands as if to aim at Ellie.

You were well-aware of the dire situation but took a steadying breath and squeezed the trigger, bullet piercing directly through the back of the dark sandy-blonde head; sending a splatter of blood over the ebony haired man's face. "One," you counted.

There was no time as the man looked up at your voice; barrel aimed at him, trigger sounding in a boom. "Two," you counted.

From the shock of your appearance, Ellie managed to wriggle away from woman pinning her to the ground as your sight turned to the other two women across the room. When one lifted from her seat near the fireplace, eyes wide and a plead on her lips, your gun popped off another bullet despite her hands held in defense; catching her in the chest, sending the young girl to her back, choking on her own blood. "Three," you counted.

"MOM!" Ellie screamed, her having been disarmed as the girl with a bald head proved equal strength. Plus, with her ribs, Ellie wasn't much of a fight anyways.

You didn't need to think, gun turning towards her. "Get the fuck off my daughter, bitch," you snarled, the girl with a septum ring's eyes widening at the sight of your angry threat. Another bullet fired, piercing directly between her eyes. "Four," you counted, turning to the last assailant. She was on her feet, handgun pointed at you; but her hands trembled as Ellie scrambled for her gun then found her feet. You sidestepped in front of her, "No, no, all eyes on me. Joel? Joel? Hey, you alive? C'mon! Fuckin' show us you're alive! JOEL! If you're dead, I swear to God - "

He whimpered; relief flooding your system.

"Who the fuck are you?" The girl in a long-sleeve, grey Henley demanded; trying to step around Joel's legs to get a clear shot of Ellie - but you moved with her.

"Aht, aht! Stay right there, don't move." She narrowed her eyes as you asked, "Ellie? With me, baby girl?"

"I'm - I'm here," she wheezed, laying a single hand to your waist.

"You hurt?"

"Yeah," she whispered.

"Hm," you growled, fingering the trigger.

"I asked, who the fuck are you!?" Abby roared, her desperation making her raw and unpredictable. You didn't want to rock this boat too much, not when the threat to your family was alive and real.

"Lookit, darlin', I don't think you're in the position to ask any questions," you warned. "Now... Step away from him. Nice and slow, please. I'm askin' you nicely - "

"No!" She snarled, gun turning to the back of Joel's head; heart leaping to your throat. "You take one step, either of you make a fucking move, and I'll blow his fucking brains out."

"And I'll blow yours," you warned evenly.

"Doesn't matter," she seethed, "'cause I would've done what I came here to do."

"Oh, yeah? What's that? Kill an old man?"

She chuckled ruefully, "Exactly that."

"You wanna tell me why? C'mon, now. I don't wanna have to shoot you, kid, got a real long life ahead of you." When her hands shook with more definition, you snapped, "Hey! Hey! Eyes on me! Back the fuck away from him right now and maybe I'll let you live."

The room's occupants knew it was a boldfaced lie.

Abby panted, quickly glancing around the dead bodies that fell by your hand; giving you a single moment to note the shattered golf club left to the side of Joel, then to the state of him. It didn't take a rocket scientist to piece together what she'd done. "Y-You killed them," she whispered, glare turned back to you; tears in her eyes, upper lip snarled. "You killed them! Mel wasn't armed and you fucking shot her, you bitch!"

"Bet your ass, I did. Didn't even hesitate, now, did I? Y'all were hurtin' my husband."

"'Husband'?" She repeated, scoffing. "Of fucking course. You're who was on the radio, weren't you?"

"That's right. Now... I'll tell you only one more time. Back. The fuck. Away from him. Now, please, I ain't known for my patience!"

"Just fucking shoot her, Y/N!"

"No, Ellie," you growled, aim narrowing. She sobbed behind you, protected by your body; only able to look between the stranger and her adopted father.

"She did that to Joel! FUCKING LOOK AT HIM!"

"I know, I got eyes t'see, honey, but she's just a kid - like you, Ellie," you didn't shift your gaze from the bitch with a braid; knowing no matter what, she was going to die today. By your hand or Ellie's, you didn't know - nor care. You continued, "Tell me why, darlin'. Why're you doin' this? Huh? The fuck could he've done? Hey? C'mon, now! Answer me!"

"It doesn't fucking matter why, Y/N!"

But you were trying to play for time, well aware of the gun pointed at Joel that would only take a fraction of a second to fire, not a whole lot of pressure needed to trigger the bullet. There was a good chance that if you opened fire, she could easily take Joel out; the exact opposite of what you were trying to accomplish. You needed a fleeting opening, anything; just a single moment - a nanosecond - to make your move without jeopardizing Joel's life. Or Ellie's. Or yours, for that matter.

"It matters, Ellie!" You barked. "She's got a reason, I wanna hear it. C'mon, darlin', tell me why! Why're you doin' this?"

"He's a fucking monster," she trembled.

"All right, good, that's a start. What'd he do? Huh?"

"Does it matter?! You're both coldblooded murderers, you don't need any reason!"

"You got a point, yeah. But you obviously got your own. Tell me what that is."

Abby took an unsteady breath in, shaking her head as tears leaked in pathetic trails down her ruddy cheeks. "He killed him..."

"Who?"

"My father - he killed my father and 18 soldiers!"

You breathed, "Oh, yeah? When?"

"Five years ago," she grit her teeth. "In Salt Lake!"

"The hospital?"

She seethed, "He was an unarmed doctor! Shot dead like a fucking animal!"

Her gun straightened at Joel, making you chant, "Hey, hey, hey, yeah, yeah, I remember that, I remember. But you're negating from the fact that they had our daughter." Abby's eyes shifted over to Ellie behind your shoulder. "Hey, eyes on me! Look, I fucking promise you, kid, it wasn't in cold blood - we had real good reason. You with them? You a Firefly?"

"They're all gone, you dumb bitch! Didn't you hear?"

"You all that's left?"

"No," she seethed, "there's more of us... Many more in Seattle, but your little family won't get a chance to see them."

"Sound real certain of that."

Joel groaned from the bloody floor as if trying to call for you. Abby snarled, "I'm the one with a gun to your husband, remember? You fucking blind!?"

"Oh, I'm aware, darlin'. But I don't think you're gonna kill him."

"Why the fuck not? You just killed my friends!"

"'Cause he ain't who you want."

"Oh, yeah?" She scoffed.

"We left them nurses alive, I bet they're who told you 'bout us. Right? Am I right?" Abby's jaw steeled, only inclining her head in confirmation. "Yeah, that's right. You came all the way here from Seattle on a mission to kill him. But here's the thing, darlin', Joel ain't kill your daddy."

"I know he did!"

"He didn't pull the trigger! Your witnesses got it wrong, but that's okay - happens during fits of panic. They don't see the whole picture."

"He shot my father in the head! Like he was nothing! Stepped over him like he wasn't even there and walked out the fucking door! Why shouldn't I do the same!?"

"No, darlin'," you smirked, seeing the rage building in her eyes. Good. It's what you wanted - needed. "No, see, Joel didn't fire the kill shot. I did."

"You?"

"Me," you agreed, chuckling - hoping to blind her with anger from your amusement. "Yeah, I shot your daddy - and just like your li'l friends, I ain't hesitate then, neither. What? You look shocked... You surprised I had the gull to do it? I'll tell you somethin' else, darlin', I didn't even look at him - " Abby cracked with a sob and it was the opening you needed. "C'mon, darlin', take your best shot. Or would you prefer I just shoot you now? Can reunite you with dearest daddy real easy."

The girl laughed, arm shifting a fraction as if debating turning her gun on you, "Like you could make the fucking shot, you old hag - "

Your gun recoiled slightly from being fired, striking Abby in the head; and you counted, "Five." Quickly, you shoved the weapon into the holster on your hip, sprinting across the room to where Joel was somehow still breathing. "Hey, hey, hey, baby, hey," you slid on your knees, Ellie charging in a limp after you, "you still with us? Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck. C'mon, Joel! Gotta hang on for me, all right? I-I know you endured so much, baby, but hang on a little longer. Please!"

He made a strangled noise in the back of his throat, making you heave a whimper. "Joel? Joel," Ellie sniffled from her knees at your side, "hey, y-you gotta get up. C'mon, get up - "

"No, no, not yet," you prevented, nodding to the shattered golf club. "Took a fuckin' beatin', Ellie, probably has internal bleedin'. We move him, might make it worse."

"Well, what the fuck do we do, Y/N!?"

"We do nothing - you probably got broken ribs, baby. Fuck," you breathed, looking around the room - something catching your attention. "All right, all right - shit, hang on, stay with him."

"Y/N?" Ellie worried as you found your feet; but her eyes drifted to the movement on the floor. The unarmed girl, Mel, was trying to army crawl through her own blood, sobbing when you stood over her.

"Hey!" You barked, flipping her onto her back, demanding, "Y'all brought med supplies? Right? RIGHT!?"

"Fuck you," she spat.

"You tell me true, doll, I'll help yah."

"Y-You - bitch."

"All right, I'll find it myself," you scoffed, gun back in hand, aiming at her forehead, and firing once. "What were you? Four? No, no, three."

"Y/N!" Ellie sobbed, "He's got a fever!"

"Hang on, Ellie, I got it," you rushed, kneeling at one of the packs - noting the embroidered wolf. There was no questioning it, overturning the pack and rummaging through the contents. Not finding what you needed, you did the same to a second pack; then a third, gasping when it was full of medical supplies. You shifted through it before noting another body in the room right next door. "Shit - Ellie!?"

"What?" She sobbed over Joel.

"Got another body!" It was quiet as you stood with your gun in hand again, aimed at the body before dropping it. "Oh, fuck! It's Dina!"

"WHAT?"

You knelt at her side, checking her pulse and sighing with relief. "S-She's alive! Just knocked out. I got her!" Holstering your gun once more, you grunted and took hold of her wrists to tug the girl into the main room. "All right, honey, just - fuck, stay there, be back for yah." You returned to the medical supplies, tears leaking without consent. "Ellie, here - catch!" Using the hardwood floor to your advantage, you slid supplies her way; not bothering to check if she caught them all or not.

"What do I do?" Ellie whimpered.

"Get over here and check Dina, I got Joel," you scampered across the floor; pair of you switching places. "Hey, hey, do me a favor - get on the radio, get ahold of fucking anyone. You hear me? Use channel 7 to try to get Jesse..." You prayed the lad was smart enough to tune in on the private channel you and Joel used after separating. "All right, all right," you sniffled, caressing your husband's bloody cheek, "baby, hey, hey, can you hear me? Just - Just squeeze my hand, honey, c'mon." When his broken hand squeezed yours, making you sigh, "All right, good, hey, you're - you're gonna be all right. I gotcha, baby, just, um, just hang on for me. Okay? Can you do that?" He squeezed again. "Good boy."

Perhaps his lips twitched in amusement, perhaps not. You didn't notice either way, sorting the supplies - discovering a half-used vial of milky white substance.

"Fucking Propofol? The fuck they doin' with this?" You muttered to yourself, finding a clean needle and drawing it into the syringe.

"What're you doing?" Ellie sobbed, "Y/N? What is that?"

"Tryna save him, Ellie! Radio in! C'mon, baby, I know you're scared - I know that was fucking scary. But I need you to be brave for me right now, Ellie, please. Okay? I need fucking help! Get on the airwaves, all right? Radio anybody!"

"Right, okay, yeah," she sniffled, doing as you told from Dina's side. "Jackson? Jackson, come in!" But there was no answer. So, she switched channels, "Jesse!? Jesse, please, it's Ellie - "

"Ellie? Ellie!"

"Jesse!"

"Where are you!?"

"A-At a lodge! Some lodge, halfway up the mountain! We found Joel and Dina, but w-w-we need help! Like, fucking now!"

"I'm five out!"

You whispered, "I'm so sorry, Joel, I gotta turn you over, okay? I gotta see..." Biting your tongue, you braced Joel and turned him over, whimpering when he hollered in unfiltered pain. "Oh, I know, I know, I know, I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry, I know, baby, I know, but I gotta see." You quickly shed your outer coat and bundled it under his head, "You're gonna be okay, hear me? You just gotta hang on f'me, I'm gonna fix this. I'm so sorry, I know," you repeated as you were forced to shred his shirt and reveal the blackening marks on his torso; some turning sickly blue, indicating the internal damage. "Fuck! Okay, okay, all right... I-I can fix this, fuck me, how do I fix this?"

"Y-Y-Y/N..."

"I know, Joel, okay? I know - "

"Go," he croaked, "gotta leave me."

"Fat fucking chance," you snarled.

"'M not makin' it," he whispered, "but you still can."

"I'm not leaving you! You're gonna be okay, I'm gonna fix this!"

"Go, baby," he wheezed, delirium setting in, "take... Take care... Of-of our girl..."

"Fuck that, we're both gonna do that. You understand? Joel, you stay alive! El-Ellie? Hey, h-how's Dina?"

"Waking up, I think."

"Good - hey, here, here," you snatched up a canister and slid it across the floor. "Wave that under her nose, babe, it's smelling salts. Might help her come-to faster."

"Okay, yeah," Ellie sniffled, doing as you bid.

"All right, hey, I-I can't do shit for Joel here - we gotta get him back to Jackson!"

"How?"

"Shit," you sniffled, shaking your head, "I-I don't know. His leg, okay, I can - I can splint his leg - oh, fuck me."

"What?"

You examined the wound between tattered bits of denim, "Looks like they blew his fucking knee out with a shotgun, Goddamnit." Ellie whimpered as you scanned the room, movement in the snow through the window catching your attention. "Jesse's here - "

"What do we do?"

"We need help," you nodded, "yeah, yeah, so... We're gonna send Jesse back to Jackson for aid."

"What about us?"

"We stay here - keep Joel warm. Remember? After the university?"

"Yeah," sniffled Ellie. "Y-Y/N, I can't lose him."

"Me neither, baby, so we're gonna help him, right?"

"Do you know how?"

"I'm workin' on it," you whispered, looking around the room.

"Y/N!? ELLIE!?"

"UP HERE!" You bellowed through the open door, stumbling to your feet. With a grunt, you smashed a wooden chair to the ground; shattering it to pieces and collecting viable planks of wood. "Okay, okay, okay," you rambled, returning to Joel's side, "hey, Joel, baby, I-I gotta splint your leg. Okay? Oh, this is gonna fucking hurt, I'm so sorry."

"Y/N," he whispered hoarsely, "don't. Just... Go..."

You glared and shook your head, knowing your next move was a risky one. "Fuck that, you and I go out together. All right, I got an idea. Gonna put you to sleep, honey, but it'll be okay. Hear me?" You hovered over his swollen, bleeding face, "You're gonna be okay, I promise, you'll wake up. Just gotta get you outta pain - then we'll get you home. Okay?"

"Baby," he slurred, "please."

"Oh, I know, sweetheart, I know, but just trust me." Joel's hand twitched and you snatched it in yours, lifting to your lips and pressed a series of kisses to it. "Please, Joel, I need you to fucking survive. You don't get to leave me, I-I need you. Hear me? Okay? Just trust me, I'm gonna get you help. Endure and Survive, right? Remember? Endure and Survive, Joel!"

He nodded as best he could, eyes fluttering as Jesse came sprinting into the room. "Holy... Shit..." He paused to take in the sight of fresh carnage. "What the fuck happened?"

Ellie sobbed over Dina, who was finally waking; and you were pressing the needle to Joel's vein and administering the anesthesia. "You're gonna be okay, baby, I promise, I swear, can't leave me - not like this. You're gonna wake up," you whispered to him, watching as his eyes fully shut and he went slack with slumber. "Jesse! Get over here, man, I need help!"

"What the fuck happened?" He repeated, jogging across the floor while dropping his pack - shoes squeaking in halt when he caught sight of Joel's injuries. "Oh, my fucking God - "

"Help me splint his leg, please! Fuckin' please! C'mon, we don't have time!"

"Right, okay."

Together, you and Jesse constructed a splint out of the chair debris and a torn sheet from the other room. You knotted it where you could, watching Joel's face for signs of pain - but he didn't twitch, only breathed shallowly. Your eyes met the lad's and admitted, "I-I don't know what to do next. How do we get him back to Jackson, Jesse, please?"

"We ride like hell," Jesse answered.

"He shouldn't be upright and bouncing around!"

"We got another choice? I can ride back, but time's workin' against him. We could try to build a sled, but - "

"We search the house first and if there's nothing, he rides with me. Luxor and I are fastest."

"There we go," he agreed, already rocketing to his feet.

"Ellie! Watch them!" You commanded as you and Jesse set out to ransack the lodge for anything that you might use to tote Joel. By stroke of fucking luck, in the basement, you found what the previous owner's kids must've used to skate down the icy hillside; figuring it was good enough to use now. After locating Jesse, the pair of you assembled the shed and tug ropes behind Luxor and used found pillows and blankets to line it; then rushing back inside.

"We can both get him down the stairs," Jesse panted.

"We're gonna have to."

"I can help," Ellie stood, Dina leaning against the wall as she regained her strength.

"Fuck it," you breathed, waving her towards Joel, "let's go!"

It wasn't easy; Joel being a grown man of pure muscle and the three of you with only minimal strength. Yet your adrenaline made you feel like Bruce Banner; letting Ellie support his shattered, shot leg out straight as you and Jesse upheld his torso. Down the stairs and out the door, you drug Joel into the sled and immediately covered him with the blankets as Jesse went back for Dina. It wasn't perfect, but it was good enough - forced to leave Joel to help Ellie into Dewey's saddle.

"Wait, wait, wait - "

"Please, Ellie, don't fucking fight me, you're injured, baby, you ride with Jesse. Dina'll be all right, I promise - but we gotta go. Now, okay? Before the blizzard kicks up again."

Ellie nodded through her tears as the other two finally made it back. You explained to Jesse the plan and helped Dina into Butterscotch's saddle, ensuring her balance before telling them to get going. Leaving everything else behind including five corpses, you checked on Joel to make sure he was still breathing; kissing his forehead and muttering promises and apologies as you took your place at Luxor's side.

With a heavy sniffle, you begged the horse, "Don't fail me now, buddy, we gotta save him. C'mon - nice and easy, right? Together... Let's go."

You navigated the mountain on foot, keeping Luxor at an even pace while simultaneously ensuring Joel didn't slide away or topple over. It was frustrating to go so slow, but necessary; and the moment you were on level ground, doubled back to cover Joel's head before hoisting yourself into the saddle and spurred Luxor forward.

Snow was kicked up over Joel, but you had wrapped him tightly for protection; soon passing Jesse, Ellie, and Dina to gallop for the smoking town in the distance.

With shot nerves, you navigated through the makeshift hospital of Jackson; steaming mug of coffee in hand as your feet shuffled down the hall to the last door on the right. A voice called your name, making you pause and look back to spy Jesse approaching you with three wrapped plates stacked on top of one another.

"What's that?"

"Figured y'all hadn't eaten today," he eased.

"Hm."

"You all right?"

"Yeah, just fucking dandy, honey. You?"

Jesse frowned, "How's Joel?"

"Still asleep."

"You know, it's been two weeks..."

"What's your fucking point?"

"That you need a decent night's sleep - Ellie and Dina, too."

"I'll sleep when I'm dead, kid, thanks."

Jesse frowned, "We're just worried about'cha."

"Yeah? Well, I'm worried I killed my fucking husband 'cause he won't wake up. Guess we're all worried, huh?"

"Y/N," he sighed. "You haven't left his room since we got back. You can't just stop taking care of yourself, Joel's gonna need yah to help him - gotta have your strength."

"I'm fine."

"That why you look like fucking shit?"

"Don't push me, kid."

Jesse sighed, "Fine, but you gotta eat."

"I'm good," you held up your mug.

"Can't sustain yourself on fucking coffee. C'mon, I brought you all a plate."

"That's real nice of yah, thank you," you accepted the balanced to-go plates in your one hand; leaning them to your chest to keep hold.

"Just... Take it easy on yourself, okay? There's no way you could've known this would happen - "

"That's the thing, Jesse," you warbled softly, "I knew. He was beat t'hell, I knew the Propofol might've been too much, that he might not wake up... But the worst part? I promised him he would. I fucking lied to my husband and killed him in the same breath - "

"He's still breathing," Jesse snapped.

"Fine, then I put him in a coma. That better?"

Before he could retort, the last door on the right ripped open and Dina came toppling out, shouting your name. When she saw you just feet away, she sobbed, "He's awake!"

Three full plates and a mug of coffee shattered on the ground as you nearly tripped over yourself to race into the room. Inside, there was a single bed with a plethora of different machines all whirling and beeping obnoxiously; but there was Ellie, sat bedside, sobbing into Joel's tubed chest. "Hey, hey, hey, what's - "

"He's awake! Y/N, he's awake!" She wailed, forcing herself to lift up and reveal Joel's alert face.

"Holy shit," you heaved, eyes wide and chest hollow. "J-Joel?"

"Hey, baby," he croaked, wincing at the dryness of his throat.

In earnest shock, not even noticing Dina and Jesse behind you, your breathing turned choppy, "Oh, my God, Joel! Y-You're awake, Jesus fucking Christ!"

"C'mere," he mumbled, lips sticking together as Ellie removed herself as if to make room for you.

"No, no, uh," you sniffled, gesturing at Ellie, "you stay put, baby girl, I-I-I'll be right back."

"Where're you going?"

"To find Tommy," you backed up two steps; chest heavy and ready to cave in.

"I can do that - "

"I got it, kid, y'all keep him company f'me," you assured Dina, tears streaming as you stumbled out of the room.

"Hey!" Jesse followed you into the hall, door slamming shut. "Hey, Y/N! What the fuck was that?" But Jesse slowed when you collapsed into the wall, using it to keep upright as you tried to keep walking forward; slowly tripping over your feet and crashing to still-bruised knees. "Oh, my God, hey, Y/N. Hey, hey, hey, what's goin' on? You okay?" He worried, lowering to the floor. Noting the way your chest heaved up and down and how your breathing was rapidly shrill, he calmed, "You're okay, Y/N, hey, just breathe. You're panicking, you just - just focus on breathing. Hey, you're okay, you're not alone."

"H-He's alive," you managed breathed gasps. "He's alive, he's alive, he's alive. I-I didn't - he woke up, I ain't kill him."

"No, you didn't," Jesse chuckled in disbelief. "You saved his life, Y/N, just breathe. You're okay."

"I-I - "

"No, I know, but you just need to breathe f'me." You nodded and watched him, following his direction as he breathed with you - in and out, in and out, in and out. "All right, good, that's real good - just breathe with me. Good girl, c'mon, in, two, three, four; and out, two, three, four; in, two, three..."

The door opened again, Dina peaking out to discover the sight; catching Jesse's eye. He nodded with meaning, making the girl double back to grab Ellie; leaving you on the floor with the young man instructing your breathing. When the two girls exited, Ellie worriedly rushed for your side, questioning your name as she knelt, "What's happening? What's wrong? Are you okay? Hey! Oh, my God, talk to me, Ma!"

"She's having a panic attack," Jesse relaid, not commenting on her referal to you as something remotely motherly. "She's all right. Good, Y/N, that's real good - just breathe. Hey, look at me, look at me," he waited until your eyes lifted, "you're okay, I swear to you. Joel's alive, he's okay, he's awake - you didn't kill him, didn't put him in a coma. So, c'mon... You head back in, okay? Go see your husband, I'll get Tommy."

You sniffled and nodded, Ellie remaining in place as Jesse slowly got to his feet. "We got her," Dina assured, finally making him turn to head off. "Y/N? Hey," she squatted before you, "Joel's askin' for yah. Wanna head back in?"

"Yeah, yeah," you rambled, "I-I - yeah, ne-need t'see him. Need t'see him alive. J-Just needed - just needed a second. 'M sorry - "

"No, it's okay, you're good," nodded Ellie, "think you can stand?"

"Mhm."

"C'mon, I gotcha," she hushed, taking up your arm to help you clamber up the wall on trembling legs. "You okay?"

"Mhm."

"Right," she sighed. "Hey, c'mon, let's go in, he wants yah... I'm right here with you, I'm right here. We're all okay... You, me, Joel, Dina, we're okay, Ma, we're all okay - all alive."

"Y-You...?" Your eyes widened, holding onto her arms tightly for support. "Did you call me...? An-And back at the lodge, you did then, too, didn't you?"

"Well, yeah," Ellie shrugged as Dina giggled behind her hand, "I mean, is that okay? I don't have to call you - "

"No, no, no. It's so fucking okay, baby girl, good God," you gasped, yanking her into your embrace. In her ear, you sniffled, "I-I'm sorry, I'm sorry, it's just - I didn't know you felt okay with that - "

"I wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it, or, uh, I-I guess, felt ready to say it."

"Gonna call Joel 'Dad' now or somethin'?"

"Woah, woah, woah," she chuckled, gazing up at you in wonder and gently reaching out to wipe your tear tracks as she's seen your husband do, "one step at a time. All right? Gotta see Joel first, everything else second. C'mon, now you just gotta put one foot in front of the other..." She encouraged you away from the wall, "There you go, you're okay. Now, deep breath... You good?"

"I'm okay."

"Good, all right. I got you, just... Open the door..."

As you reentered the room, Ellie and Dina hung back to allow your reunion to occur in privacy. You didn't notice, preoccupied by the sight before you; Joel awake and seemingly alert, his lips pulled on one side in a smirk. Despite the healing disfigurement, he was still the handsome, rugged, inherently and fiercely protective guy you married all them years ago. You hated the sight, but felt overwhelming relief he was awake, aware, looking at you with love, adoration, impression.

"Hey, there she is," he rumbled in greeting, haggard voice making you snap out of it to snatch up the cup of water on his bedside stand. "Where'd you - "

"No, no, hey, don't," you whimpered, bringing the lip of the cup to him, one hand around the base of his head, "just drink first, Joel, please."

Joel's gaze didn't tear from you as he accepted the water, choking minimally from the action he hadn't done by himself in two+ weeks. You determined what was enough, lowering the cup but keeping your one hand on the back of his head; twisting to set the cup aside before quietly turning back to him. "C'mere, baby," he whispered, casted hand twitching to pat his fingers beside him with indication. When your mouth opened to protest, he begged, "Y/N, please." So, you eased down beside him softly, careful not to jostle his injuries - but forced to take in the sight of his slowly-healing face. "Why'd you run? Not happy t'see me?"

Shaking your head, you admitted, "On the contrary, so Goddamn happy and relieved, I panicked for a second."

"Why?"

You sniffled, the tears cold against your dry cheeks, "Thought you weren't gonna... I mean, you were... Baby, I did this. I-I'm so sorry - "

"The fuck you mean? You saved me, sugar."

"No, you weren't waking up - I-I put you in a fucking coma - "

"That wasn't you."

"I took a risk with the anesthesia. I knew your injuries might've been too much, that too much damage was done and if I put you t'sleep, and you might not wake up, b-but I just - you were in so much pain and we had to get you back if you - "

"Hey, hey, hey," his fingers hooked around yours in an effort to take your hand. "Baby... You saved me. Ellie and Dina told me all what happened."

"They shouldn't've."

"I asked."

You sighed, shaking your head, "Joel, I..."

"Talk to me, baby, please."

Meeting his eyes again, you whimpered, "I didn't think you were gonna make it. That girl - Abby? Gabby? Whatever, she, uh, she... She used a golf club. You were more than fucked up, I thought you weren't gonna wake up - I mean, by all means, you shouldn't've - "

"But I did," he comforted, "because of you."

You sniffled again, "Don't say it like that, please. I just - I'm so fucking relieved you're awake. I'm sorry, Joel, I should've got there sooner."

"You got there just in time."

"Almost didn't."

"From what I remember, saved Ellie and I - again."

You shrugged, "I wasn't gonna lose you, either of you. You two are everything t'me that I just reacted, I didn't have t'think. I was so worried, but she - she had a gun at you, I had to stall for time."

"You did the right thing, Y/N."

"Then why do I feel so fucking guilty?"

"You shouldn't - you're a Goddamn hero."

"Don't feel like one."

"Maybe you will when I get up and movin'. Get us back to normal, right?"

"Joel, that ain't happenin' for a long time, baby," you informed quietly, glancing at his leg. His gaze followed, sighing deeply at the bulging knee the Jackson doctors managed to save under a warm blanket. "She had a shotgun..."

"I remember."

You winced, "You should get some rest - I'll-I'll grab the doctor - "

"Don't you dare leave me," he snapped, fingers lacing tightly with yours. "Just - c'mere, please, lemme feel you."

"Fuck no," you refused, "you're still healing and there's a limited amount of pain meds. She got you pretty good, Joel, you're real fragile."

"Enough that I can't hold my wife?"

"Enough that you can't hold your wife," you chuckled dryly. "But, um... I can sit here. I can stay - I'll stay. I'm sorry I left, I just couldn't believe after these weeks, you're awake. Made my heart feel... I don't even know - "

He sighed gently, just staring at you. "It's okay, baby, I understand. Know, you were the last thing I saw... But you look like hell right now, darlin', the fuck happened?"

"Haven't slept in weeks."

"You fuckin' eat?"

"When I remembered. Dina brings me most meals."

"Y/N Miller."

"I was just so worried," you whimpered, tears drowning you. "I worried you weren't gonna wake up, that I'd lose you at any moment. I wanted t'be here, just in case... I... Joel, I just..."

"I know, baby. Ellie said you haven't left this whole time. Hey," he breathed, earning your red-rimmed attention. "Need to thank you, sugar. F-For savin' us, savin' me."

You nodded, "Saved my ass plenty of times, now we're even."

"I heard you, you know? I heard you the whole time, it was all I could hang onto. But I heard you tell Abby you shot her father...? Risky move."

"I needed her to focus on anything other than you. She could've shot you, I wouldn't've been able to do anything and I needed to - I needed you to-to-to - "

"Endure and Survive?"

"Yeah, exactly. So, I lied, told her what I thought would piss her off enough to, you know, take the heat off yah."

Joel's lips twitched at the side again, "My smart fuckin' girl."

"Selfish girl, more like."

"How's that?"

You shrugged, "Didn't wanna be without you, Joel, I can't do this without yah. I need you, Joel, and I... I couldn't let her kill you. Bad enough I got there too late and she beat the shit outta you."

Joel's voice cracked with emotion, "It's not selfish, Y/N."

"No?"

"Nah, baby. The feelin's so fuckin' mutual, 'cause I need'jah, too, sweetheart, and I'll be damned to do this without you, either. You and I, we're gonna grow old - well, older, together, surrounded by our family, all of Tommy and Maria's kids - Ellie and Dina, too. We ain't gonna go out like that, we get t'die like we lived. Together."

"Yeah?"

"I promise," he swallowed tightly, eyes crinkling as he winced. "Can't get rid of me, baby, not that easily."

"Fuck you," you scoffed, "that wasn't easy, not t'see, not t'watch, not t'fight against. It was so fucking hard - I can't ever go through that kinda shit again. Hear me? Never again, Joel, I can't handle it - "

"Nah, nah, nah, never again, baby. I promise. I-I'll talk to Tommy, we're done with patrols - "

"No, you're fucking done," you snipped. "I'll earn both our keep, but you're done, Joel, I can't fucking go through that shit again."

"What if something like that happens to you - "

"I killed them all. There's nobody left that would come for us."

Joel's eyes flashed, "There's those in Seattle."

Your head shook, "Doubt they'd give enough of a fuck to avenge those bastards."

"We don't know that. So... So why don't we both retire, baby? C'mon, like we always said. You think you can't handle that again? Imagine how it'd fucking feel to learn something happened to you and I wasn't there to protect yah. Please, Y/N, we both retire - we don't run that risk no more."

"All right, deal," you agreed through your tears, leaning over him to hold his cheek and press several kisses to the corner of his mouth. "Fucking deal, all right, yeah - "

"Honey? You missed."

"Nah, you're still healing - "

"A kiss ain't gonna hurt nothing," he grunted. "C'mere, please. Don't make me beg... Besos, besos, besos." With a small, watery chuckle, you obliged and pecked his pouting lips - earning another groan. "That's not what I meant - mh!" You cut him off by pressing a prolonged kiss against him, careful not to press too hard and reopen his split lip. He hummed in content, free hand occupied by only an IV lifting to caress the back of your head in an effort to keep you in place. This time, when you pulled back, he mumbled, "Never again, sweetheart."

"Never again," you agreed softly, gently petting a salted curl from his forehead; hand drifting to gently trace the contours of his healing yellowing-skin. "I love you so fucking much, Joel. Don't do that to me again."

"I love you, too, darlin'. Never again - we're done. I swear, we're fucking done with all that."

"Good," you whimpered, glancing back to the usual seat you'd claimed the past couple weeks as you watched over him. "All right, hey," with a sniffle, you slowly lifted from his bed, "Jesse went to get Tommy, but you get some rest, all right?"

"Fuck that, been resting long enough. Just wanna be here with you, baby."

"Got a helluva long recovery ahead of yah, gonna need your strength."

"Think I'll walk again?"

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it - but we'll work on it together. You'll be okay... That, I can promise."

Joel nodded with a gentle sigh, watching you maneuver back into the armchair Dina had pushed into his room for you. He didn't let go of your fingers, eyes silently watching you as if to ensure you were there - but you did the same. After seeing him on the brink of death, you feared you couldn't look away from his living, breathing form ever again. Quietly, he garbled, "Don't leave."

"Never, baby. I'm right here, I gotcha."

requesting rules and masterlist

TLOU masterlist

[indiestsnake]

heyyy look it’s a vent post. about. how i keep forcing you all to repeat the nice words you say because evidently my skulls a bit too thick to retain the info

don’t read if you don’t want to, I’ll probably sleep this off anyway

I hate how my brain neutralizes compliments

the longer nice words someone says stay in my brain the more fake they feel. even from my friends. what if their opinion has changed? what if I’ve done something wrong? what if they just don’t feel that strongly anymore?

it doesn’t help that i can’t expect anyone to come up with new ways to validate my stupid brain constantly

I still remember the beginning of to find warmth. every word mattered so much to me. checking my phone and always seeing that little inbox number tick up, faster and faster with each chapter, comments growing longer and more complex. I got tumblr and random people came by to tell me how cool they thought I was. I finally felt like I was important for once

and then it just. slowly started to mean a little less

my brain adapts. moves the goalpost. it writes the last words off as meaningless and says the current ones aren’t actually that impressive. sure, people like your writing. so what? you’re bad at a million other things.

and then the comments themselves slowed down. my fifteen minutes ran out. I no longer woke to 99+ notifs on tumblr, I stopped having new comments to read every morning. consitient commenters come and go because how the hell can I expect someone to find a new way to be nice to me every single chapter I post? it’s not possible. much less any sort of reasonable goal

the comments still mean a lot. it’s the difference between a gallon of water after a trek through a desert, and a sip on a hot day. I used to be starved for compliments. now I’m not.

someone called to find warmth one of their favorite books. someone said it genuinely empowered them with its themes. a friend reached out to translate it to Russian. the numbers grow higher and higher

but for some reason I just. it doesn’t feel real unless they say it again. it’s corroborated, or reiterated, or repeated. I keep forcing you all to keep telling me the ways I’ve impacted you over and over in different formats because I dump all the words you say into a self hatred acid pit apparently

I’m so grateful for the fandom I’ve grown and recieved. I could never express how happy it makes me to see this reach and help so many people. I’m sorry you have to hear me whine as if your words mean nothing I swear they do

I promise they do. they do. please please believe me. I just need you to repeat them. that’s all I ever say to you guys

im sorry. you don’t have to. you dont have to repeat yourself. you dont have to reach out to reinforce what I should already know. nor do you have to keep telling me things if this post makes it feel meaningless

im so happy to have you all. im sorry

[ellsieee]

Oh they were hungry all right.

Source: @BlackWhiskey on TW

I didn't even notice the eating ramen *wink wink* reference on my first watch. Volume on. The sounds... 😳

I might not be willing to pay $10 for the VIP membership, but if I had bought it, I wouldn't be disappointed this was what I got.

@wanderlust-in-my-soul & @respectthepetty the series is good without the extra scenes, but I have to admit, this does add to my enjoyment. 🤭

[mantisgodsdomain]

"oh, yeah," we think, "we could probably cross this over into Li nked Uni verse if we actually draw out the canon for long enough, smacking different versions of the same character into each other is always fun especially when it has the potential for massive cultural differences and shit like running into things where the thing that has been forgotten has significance beyond the things that are remembered. Hey, we should probably check the comic in order to comply with the six-month rule, we don't think we ever finished-"

We return from the reference images. We have remembered why we didn't finish looking into the base comic.

[streetlamp-amber]

never ending night

bruce wayne x femwife!reader

word count: 1.7k | divider by @saradika | requests are open!

CW: pregnancy, pure fluff NOTES: hello hi i’m ailís and i’ve been meaning to start a blog where i can post some one shots that i’ve been thinking of as a way to motivate myself to finally write down my ideas so this is it. i’ll be double posting my stuff on ao3 (which you can find in my bio) and will eventually make a masterlist as well as a navigation post with a list of fandoms/characters i write for. also, english isn’t my first language.

It was close to three in the morning when Bruce finally joined you in bed after a long night of patrolling and fighting bottom of the barrel criminals all night. He showered in the bathroom on the first floor of the manor to avoid making too much noise and waking you up, but when he finally walked in your shared bedroom, you were already awake, sitting up against the headboard.

“Darling, what are you doing still up?” Bruce asked you as he reached his side of the bed.

The room was dark par for the moonlight filtering through the gap between the curtains, meaning your husband had yet to notice the state you were in.

“Dick had a nightmare,” you answered, voice barely above a whisper due to how tired you were. “It took me two hours to get him to fall back asleep and when I finally came back here, this little one started kickboxing me and keeping me awake for another hour,” you continued rubbing your round belly in hopes of soothing your baby to finally catch some sleep.

“I’m sorry I wasn't here to help,” Bruce apologised, planting a kiss on your temple as he held you close to his body.

“It’s alright, Gotham needs you,” you dismissed, not at all angry.

“Still, you’re six months pregnant. You’re growing our child inside your body, you need all the rest you can get,” he softly argued. “I would've come home earlier but all the amateur criminals came out tonight.”

“Bruce, it’s fine,” you brought your hand up to his cheek and he leaned his head into your touch. “You’ve already been cutting your patrols shorter since we found out about the baby. As long as you keep coming back home to us, alive, then I’m not mad.”

Not knowing what to say – his gratefulness for having someone so accepting of his duty as Batman was almost overwhelming, even after all those years – Bruce kissed your palm while staring at you with the same look full of love that he has been sporting since the first time he met you six years ago.

“How’d I get so lucky to fall in love with the most understanding and selfless person I know?” He asked while grabbing your hand on his cheek, wrapping his fingers around yours and squeezing them gently.

“Now that’s a lie,” you rebutted, a loving smile on your lips, lowering your joined hands on the bed. “You’re more selfless than I am. You’re the most selfless man in the world.”

“Let’s not start this never ending argument again,” Bruce chuckled, now his turn to hold your face as he brought you in for a kiss.

You happily sighed against his lips, the feeling of home that overtook you every time you tasted them was a nice welcome in this interminable night. But the kiss was cut short as you felt your baby kick again and you let your head fall back as you groaned.

“She’s still kicking?” Bruce asked you, he couldn't see the movements under your skin due to the darkness of the room and your hand on your belly.

“We don't know it's a she,” you reminded him instead of answering. You had both decided to wait until the birth to know the gender.

“And I’m telling you, I know it's a girl,” your husband repeated for what could be the hundredth time.

You also secretly hoped it was a girl, but Dick really wanted a little brother. Bruce and you were still in the process of warming him up to the idea of a little sister and it was slowly starting to work.

“As long as she doesn't come in my room,” your eight year old son had said last week, with his arms crossed over his chest and a pout on his lips.

“I doubt she’ll be doing that for the first few years, chum,” Bruce reassured him, fighting off a slightly amused grin.

“And the baby will have its own room with its own toys,” you added.

“Will I still be able to play with the baby?” Dick asked after a moment, uncrossing his arms and a hopeful look filling up his blue eyes.

“Of course you will, bubs,” you said, your fingers threading through his black hair that fell over his forehead.

“But only with her toys at first, some of yours are not suited for a baby,” Bruce pointed out, ever the overprotective father.

Bruce had lowered himself down under the blanket so he could be laying head levelled with your belly, his hand now replacing yours over the bump.

“Hey trouble,” he whispered to your child and the baby kicked again, making him smile lovingly at the movement he felt under his hand. “You shouldn't be awake this late at night, you know.”

“You're one to talk,” you commented, tone almost reprimanding.

“She doesn't know that,” Bruce looked up at you as he defended himself before his gaze fell back on your belly. “Mommy is really tired,” he continued talking to your baby, his hand now rubbing soothingly over your round stomach, “and she needs her rest to do all the work so you can come out all healthy and beautiful. Well, you're definitely gonna be the most beautiful baby if you end up looking like your mother, but that's not the point.”

You smiled at the cheesy comment and your fingers found their place in Bruce’s hair, brushing through it and nails occasionally scratching his scalp.

“Your brother Dick can't wait for you to come around,” he carried on. “Said he will teach you all sorts of acrobatic tricks once you know how to walk. And he asked Alfred if he could help paint the nursery when we finally decide on a colour.”

“And I keep telling you we should do soft green,” you argued.

“I’m not changing my mind from primrose pink,” he told you with a sly grin.

“The room won’t be pink, even if it’s a girl. And that’s final,” you firmly said. Your husband will not be winning this one argument, no sir.

Bruce sighed, rolling his eyes before focusing back on your belly. “I hope you’re not as stubborn as your mother,” he whispered to the baby, as if he was having a private conversation with them and that you weren’t there. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s one of the many reasons why I fell in love with her, but I won’t be able to say no to you even when I have to, so it would save me a lot of reprimanding from Mommy if you’re not as tenacious as her.”

You smiled to yourself as you continued listening to your husband talk to your unborn child as you threaded your fingers through his hair, enjoying the softness it had after a shower. Bruce usually gelled his hair to appear more professional when he was working in the day, and then it would get all mixed up with his sweat under his cowl when he was working as Batman. When he would come back to you after the day was over, you would refuse to touch his hair until he had showered, the texture of the gel and sweat too gross on your fingers for you to ignore.

As Bruce continued talking to your baby, his voice started lulling the two of you to sleep. The baby hadn’t kicked in over almost ten minutes now, and the peace you had waited for so long to arrive made you aware of how heavy your eyelids were. You slowly lowered yourself down the bed, getting in a comfortable position with Bruce’s help where you could finally lay your head on your pillow and it didn’t take long for sleep to catch up on you.

At the sound of your soft, barely audible snores, Bruce turned his head away from your bump to find you asleep with your free hand raised next to your head on your pillow, the other one still tangled in his hair.

He planted a soft kiss on the exposed skin of your belly, eyes closed as he took a moment to absorb the fact that a baby that was half you and half him would be joining your world in a little more than three months. Bruce wasn't known to cry, the only time you ever saw him cry was as you walked down the aisle at your wedding, but tonight, a lonesome tear rolled down his cheek and fell on your stomach, where your child was growing, because Bruce never believed he would ever get to experience again the amount of love he hadn't felt since he was eight years old.

As he observed you, sleeping soundly with his child coming to life inside you, after you comforted Dick back to sleep, Bruce, for a moment, felt overwhelmed by all the love in his life. When he became Batman, he crossed out the idea of ever having a family (other than Alfred), of settling down with someone he loved and who loved him back.

But somehow, the universe put you on his path, as a miracle or a guardian angel or simply as an anchor to life outside of Batman, he didn't know. You walked into his home, into his life, to remind him that he, Bruce Wayne, was also deserving of love, of family, of happiness. Then Dick came along, rather unexpectedly but still no less welcomed, and Bruce started entertaining the idea of having children with you. He definitely wasn't opposed to it, but it wasn't something he wanted to jump right into, especially with Dick having just entered your lives. You were both young, he in his early thirties and you in your late twenties, you could allow yourselves a couple of years just the three of you (four with Alfred) before expanding the family.

So it was rather shocking when two months after you and Bruce had officially adopted Dick that you found out you were pregnant. It both took you by surprise but after talking through it together, you couldn't be happier. And the two of you haven't stopped being happy about this new little addition ever since.

Bruce rose up from his position next to your belly, your limp hand fell from his head as he did so, and he laid on the bed next to you. He delicately kissed your forehead, then your nose before falling back on his pillow and whispered “I love you” as he curled around your body, his hand resting on your belly as he fell asleep.

[three--rings]

One thing I haven't seen a lot of talk about in the fandom so far is about the financials of this season.

It took us two whole months to get a confirmation of renewal from Max, and I talked at the time that I think there was probably a lot of heated negotiations going on at the time with contracts and that's why it took as long as it did.

I think we see a huge number of indications of the compromises that were made in order for S2 to be made. One obvious one that has been talked about is being making in in NZ instead of LA, to save $.

But there's also the eight episodes instead of ten. And then the cast aspect. One downside of moving overseas was having to fly out and house the cast, not just pay day wages.

We knew immediately about Guz Khan not coming back, losing Ivan as a character. At the time I was sad but I thought it had the air of a pretty harshly practical call. If you went through the main recurring cast and said okay which character will affect the fewest things, has the least character interactions of anyone? It would be Ivan. (With the only competition being The Swede IMO, but he's Stede's crew and therefore a little more central.)

And then this season started and we got first The Swede sidelined and taken out of major scenes. And then I noticed that different members of the crew were simply absent for long stretches, like Wee John isn't around for ep 5 at all. And then Buttons takes flight.

Lucius and Pete aren't at the party for most of it. Fang isn't in the torture scene. Roach and Fang aren't in the bar. Etc. SCHEDULING IS HAPPENING.

The new characters are almost entirely played by NZ local actors, which is great, but also...cheaper.

In other words there are big signs that they did everything possible to give us a giant cast of almost everyone we love from S1, and cool new characters, in the most economical way possible.

And I'm grateful for it. I'm grateful we got S2, and it looks great, and it's well written, I'm having a blast, and we get to spend more time with this awesome cast.

But I also kinda think it needs to be said that the cost-cutting shows. That it shouldn't have been only 8 episodes, the pacing is off. That we miss every time someone from the ensemble isn't on screen.

That despite what they've put on screen looking very good, there's far less costuming budget, there's less elaborate sets, and it's a little disappointing. And it's clear it's not a lack of will or talent or vision but blatantly lack of money.

Look, streaming networks want brilliant shows that people love (that will get them to subscribe) but they very don't want to pay anyone to make them. That's like, the whole moment we're having right now.

Max puts out promos about how great it is to not have unions messing shit up in NZ. Well I have friends who are union costumers in LA and guess what union costumers did amazing last season. This season, well, I guess Stede got three whole shirts, so that's cool.

So I dunno. It's just stuff I think about. I'm not trying to be negative about the show in any way. I'm extremely happy with this season; I love it more than well, possibly any show I've ever been in fandom for.

But I see you, Max. You're cheap. You weren't that cheap when you were called HBO.

[corsairier]

dc x dp prompt: in which Danny accidentally becomes an alien

So I'm not super caught up on the modern day dp fandom lore, but what i am very familiar with is pre-2016 dp fandom lore. And that lore tends to take a much more sci-fi slant than a lot of the current magic stuff I've been seeing circulating around, so... what if we took that and put it in a batfam crossover?

Picture this: Danny is sixteen, he's told his parents he's a halfa, and despite all his fears, things actually went... well? They apologize for how they've treated Phantom, they reaffirm they still love him as their son, and things are surprisingly okay.

Except... ghosts are still their biggest interest in life, and researching ghosts is their entire passions and careers. And they've got a kid right there who not only is a ghost, but a rare type of half ghost who could give them a completely different set of data than any of their previous research! And he's their kid, so why not just go and ask Danny how he's feeling about helping them out with their research?

And Danny is, well... his friends and Jazz are all super happy for him that Maddie and Jack accepted him, and they think it's sweet at first that they're trying to bond with Danny over this. So he feels a bit pressured to go along with it, even though it feels incredibly invasive to have his parents asking him all these things. But they're his parents, and he does feel grateful for them not trying to vivisect him, so it can't be that bad, right?

But it just escalates.

His parents have never really been great with boundaries, especially when it comes to ghosts, and at some point Danny realizes that there's not really a point where either of them will truly stop. They keep asking him for blood samples, skin samples, hair samples, marrow samples, anything that can help understand him inside and out. They know ectoplasm can bring inanimate things to life or infuse life into the dead, so it quickly becomes Hey Danny, what if we injected human blood into a ghost? And Come watch us infuse ectoplasm into these frozen mice! and Danny, come help us out with this project!

Vlad won't even come in between any of this, not after Danny let slip that he wasn't the only halfa out there. Maddie's affections are a lot less attractive to him when it feels like being a lab rat under her microscope, and the coward seems more than happy to leave Danny to his fate while he goes and lives it up in his mansions. His friends are sympathetic, sure, but they don't really get it beyond usual "parents suck" complaining. it's not like Danny is actually in any danger.

Jazz at least takes it seriously, but she's off at university by then and she can't just drop everything to get into fights with their parents telling them to leave Danny alone. So Danny starts spending a bit more time than he probably should exploring the Ghost Zone and tumbling through portals, just to see where it leads him. It's stress relief, you know. Jazz would approve of him getting out of the house to clear his head.

The fact that some of these portals happen to connect dimensions isn't something he's expecting.

Neither is the fact that dimensions have their own rules, and in order to pass between dimensions, they must undergo changes as needed to fit those rules. Someone with magic cannot exist as is in a dimension without it, and the dead cannot walk in a dimension where the rules of life and death are drawn by different lines.

Danny winds up in Gotham with a body that feels unlike his own, the majority of his powers and his ghost half seemingly beyond his reach. He still thinks he's human (probably), but something about him isn't quite right. He feels odd, where he lands, and something about the air and the weather just doesn't sit right in his bones.

He's hungering for... ectoplasm, maybe? He can't put a finger on it, only that he's starving without it. Danny can't quite figure out how to get his way back—and he's not sure if he really wants to, if it means going back to playing house with his parents.

Then the Bats, from their own perspective, stumble across a medical mystery—one that doesn't want to be solved.

One that's absolutely sick of people trying to research everything about him.

And there's no way a being like him could be from Earth, right?

Batman is convinced he's an alien seeking amnesty on Earth. Tim's got his bets on an experiment escaped from some dark and corrupt lab somewhere. Dick's thinking the kid's a Meta with the kind of powers those with bad intentions would kill to have.

Jason, for what it's worth, really just wants to know how this bandaged and ill kid ended up in one of his safehouses—especially considering it's not accessible from the ground floor.

---

I've been chipping away at a fic for this, but I'm not sure if it'd be something modern dpxdc fans would be interested in? Feel free to use this idea yourselves for anything if it piques your interest LOL, just credit me in the AN if you post it to AO3. I just think it's really funny to have Danny having incredibly boring "i feel i can't enforce boundaries with my parents" problems and then the Batfam seeing what it all looks like from an outsider's POV and coming to some very severe conclusions based on what they can pick up on because it's really not a good look.

Danny voice. No my parents are fine except for all the experimenting on me. Jason voice. THE WHAT.

[r0-boat]

🪶 anon here! Can I request NSFW headcanons for ZZZ Wise, and Lycaon overstimulating gn/afab s/o please?

Injecting the new fandom with more Wise content....

Also I've accidentally added fingering My bad

ZZZ Wise & Von Lycaon fingering & overstimulation headcannons

Cw: NSFW, overstimulation, sexual punishment, AFAB!gn! S\O

Wise

Watching a movie... Well that's what you were doing while his sister was spending time with some of her friends You didn't know who their names were but you knew one of them was a robot and a pink haired lady. With his sister gone Wise wanted to watch a documentary with you. Little did you know He didn't actually want to watch a documentary.

Just 20 minutes in You we're pulled into a his lap and you thought nothing of it until his hand started to slide underneath your pants, His breath tickled your ear "is this okay?" It's been so long since he last seen you in person or even touched you at all now that you're there He couldn't help it anymore.

Your pants were long gone as you lay on top of your boyfriend one arm hiking up your leg the other in between them coding his fingers in your juices before sliding them inside.

"So wet..." "I love feeling you"

Wise is gentle at first slowly pumping in and out of you leisurely feeling you at his pace. Making sure he memorizes the way you clench around him. The soft wet walls of your pussy making his cock rock hard. But for now he wants to touch. Despite his slow and sensual pace occasionally pressing and touching your clit You become close, Wise was so good with his fingers and he knew that.

However after You came on his fingers It wasn't enough He needed more, wise flips you over now he was towering over you putting your legs over his shoulders you can see a hungry looking his eyes and he begins to finger fuck you faster. Utterly hypnotized by the wet sounds of your sloppy cunt, wise says in a husky tone "I love the sound your soaked pussy makes You can do it again for me can you?? Come on just give me one more..."

Your toes curl your back arching You whimper and scream, You couldn't hear Wise loan himself as he jams his fingers as deep as he can feeling you cum around him. But he needs more, He hasn't quite broken you yet. Wise loves to watch you fall apart, to fuck you dumb until you can no longer think about anything else but his cock or his fingers. If you really want him to he will milk every orgasm out of you until you physically cannot cum anymore.

Lycaon

Misbehaving again? Tisk tisk tisk... Before he can properly punish you He files down his claws You know when you're screwed when you see His claws are a lot shorter than they used to be. This time he wraps a blindfold around you erasing your sense of sights to heighten your other ones.

If you are known for squirming then he shall restrain you in some way whether it be his tie or his hands you will behave.

Very skilled hands knowing all the right places to touch you. He knows how to make you cum but right now he will withhold your pleasure. You will get your orgasm and many more after. He feels a little selfish indulging in you like this instead of just ramming his fingers inside you until you cum over and over, instead his fingertips brush against the opening every now and then dipping inside brushing against your clit. Your whimpers are music to his ears, such a cute little pup.

When he finally has his fill That's when he plunges his fingers immerselessly inside you You cry and thrash But you don't know where you try to close your legs but to no avail All you can do is sit and take it.

He is grateful to put the blindfold on you He does not want you to see the unsavory site of his hand palming his bulge He is ashamed yet excited that he is getting off too You're punishment.

You cum but he doesn't let up milking you through your orgasm you try to whimper his name but he only shushes you.

"Your doing great my dear." "You're taking your punishment so well, come on give me another one."

[tojirights]

Honestly think you're one of the best writers for Alastor in this fandom! Your stuff is always brilliant and the characterisation is perfect!

Had the idea last night: Alastor and reader going multiple rounds, and reader still wanting more and being full of energy but Alastor being absolutely out of it and completely shattered, so he uses his tentacles instead, because what kind of gentleman keeps his lady wanting?

Just an excuse to request tentacle sex with everyone's favourite "deer".

a/n: im gonna be so real with you, im not really sure if the tentacles are like, real apendages or if they're part of his shadow soooo i wrote them as the latter. hope it makes sense!! thank you love :') y'all are too nice 🩷

if there was one thing you weren’t expecting to still have in hell, it was your damn hormonal cycle. you didn’t necessarily have a period, but by god, you swore you still ovulated. it felt even worse than before, the primal need threatened to burn a hole through you. you always felt like a bother to alastor during this week of the month, begging and pleading for him to fuck you for hours. but, alastor never turned you away.

today though, you were especially needy. alastor had already made you cum a handful of times and had cum twice himself. he was exhausted. yet, there you were at the edge of his bed, eyes still filled with lust. “my goodess…” alastor chuckles, shaking his head. “i’m not sure i have much left in the tank, darling.” he cups your cheek, watching tears well up in your eyes. “i-i’m sorry-” he shushes you before you can continue. “did i say anything about stopping? i’d never dream of leaving my lady hanging when she needs me.”

“but…” you frown, watching alastor’s smile turn to smirk. “i have a few tricks up my sleeve, my dear. lay back.” your eyes widen as there’s a flash of green light, followed by five tentacle-like appendages sprout from alastor’s back. “w-what?” adrenaline surges through you as well as a mix of excitement and nerves. “you’re gonna… use those?” you gulp, watching the tentacles slither towards you. “why of course!” alastor snickers, seeing your apprehension. “don’t you worry that pretty little head of yours." he coos, watching with hungry yet tired eyes.

the shadow apendages wrap around your thighs, cold to the touch but not unpleasant. as they slowly spread your legs, another slides between them. it's almost embarrassing the way your legs shake with anticipation, the cool tip of the tentacles swiping up your slit. "o-oh, that's..." you sigh in relief when you're suddenly being filled. "how's that darling?" alastor hums, watching as you open wider around him. "that's... oh god alastor..." you pant, every slow thrust of his tentacle-like shadow making your head dizzy.

the foreign feeling of being stretched so wide has you already teetering on the edge. without warning, alastor curls the apendage while picking up pace, making your eyes roll into the back of your head. "gonna-" you mewl, hips arching off the bed with every thrust. "k-keep going please. 'm gonna cum." every whine makes alastor almost wish his cock was back inside of you, knowing just how hard you're clamping down on his shadow.

but the sight of you writhing, gripping the sheets like you're life depended on it was something he's grateful to be seeing from afar. the buildup to your orgasm comes strong, the coil in your stomach snapping from the tension and- "oooh, you really liked that, hm?" alastor's voice is heavy with arousal, pulling you back to reality after cumming. your vision slowly returns, heavy breathing filling your ears. you barely register the soaking mess you've made on the bed. "oh my god. did i..?" your face goes red, embarrasmemt setting in once again. "yes, my sweet. you did, and made quite the mess for us to clean up."

[transformers-spike]

"Is this why the Autobots are fond of humanity? To indulge their sweet heat cycles? How many human mates has Optimus taken for himself? It seems as though their motives to protect them were never altruistic, much less noble." PLEASE, PLEASE GIVE US A SUB-STORY WHERE THIS TIME IT'S OPTIMUS AND A HUMAN SO IN THEIR HEAT CYCLE PLEASEEEE

Idk am I creating a humans in heat universe for the TF Fandom? I know people like making the bots go through it but I think the humans being affected is so much funnier. Just begging these massive robots to fuck us lmao

How must it feel to burn from the inside out? Betrayed by your own body, rendered unable to function by the fire in your core. You described it as an aching, an insatiable need to appease the hormones overtaking your nerve endings. A mere touch is enough to worsen the ache, it’s what your body dictates in the throes of a heat cycle.

Cybertronians are forged by Primus Himself, their interfaces exist for recreational pleasure and bonding, but your species is biologically programmed to reproduce, like most of the fauna of your planet. It’s a systemic sacrifice, one rendered obsolete by the sentient status of your species. Drugs have been produced to suppress your heats, or at least lessen the effects. Unfortunately, among a dozen varieties of medication, you are either allergic or completely immune to them, leaving you susceptible to your hormonal whims. He is sorry. You must go through so much pain every few months, but you barely show it, brushing off his concerns with a laugh, saying “it is what it is” and moving on as though your body isn’t on a timer. He admires you for it. In spite of your discomfort, you haven’t given up. Once, you told him: “So what if they don’t work on me? I just gotta roll with the punches and hope for the best, it’s been my M.O. since I got the damn thing.” Meeting them for the first time… was turbulent to say the least, but you’re safe and sound, relocated to Jasper, having adjusted to your new life with the help of Agent Fowler. You’ve told them many times you’re infinitely grateful to be in their lives (barring the near death experience at the servos of an Insecticon). For them it’s a pleasure to ease your burden. You’ve eagerly established your consent, although only Arcee is the right size to properly take care of a human. Digits and glossas can only do so much compared to a spike. He tries not to pry, your privacy is yours to divulge at your leisure, but he cannot ignore the charge building up behind his interface when he sees you with the others. Yes, he is an occasional participant, but he will rather cover shifts and allow them some well-deserved respite in your berth. They deserve it. He dares not imagine Arcee’s spike pumping in and out of you, satiating your aching body, filling you to your limit as you beg for more. 

Your scent lingers in the air, caressing his sensors, a gentle hand tugging him along by the servo, pulling him in your direction. They try to keep it to themselves, but his team is beyond a doubt intoxicated by your presence alone. Thankfully, it has (almost) never impeded their judgment during missions; perhaps it has even served as motivation to make it back to base in one piece. He tries to ignore the gleam in his old friend’s optics after quelling your urges, if only for a night. Or Bumblebee's praises coming to you as a slow stream of beeps while he nuzzles your face. Or Bulkhead cradling you to his chassis like a precious artifact as you discuss what late night movies you should watch. Or catching Arcee kissing you over the mezzanine and pulling back with a smile she hasn’t worn since Cliffjumper’s death. You bring them together in your own special way, even if you blush and sheepishly deny it, claiming you should be thanking them instead  Recent discoveries have yielded an impressive increase in energon and brought forth new opportunities. With unparalleled quantities at their disposal, they can now mass displace. The transformation is no small feat, it exhausts their system and rapidly drains their energon level. But he will not forbid Bumblebee from using it to play with the kids as long as it’s not in excess. Nor to join you during heat cycles. Much like Bulkhead. And Wheeljack. And especially Ratchet. Primus forbid, his old friend has every right to enjoy himself to the fullest after all of his back-breaking work. He’s been meaning to pay you a visit, but he hasn’t found the time until now. In the temporary abode you set up in the base, away from the prying eyes of the kids, you prepare yourself for another heat. Some refurbishing was done to meet your needs (in no small thanks to June Darby and agent Fowler’s financial help); the mattress and the mini fridge was a given, but you’ve added a variety of personal belongings and entertainment; a television, a writing desk, a few “bean bags” here and there, and a pile of old magazines to scrapbook. He wonders if you consider this place your home more than your actual house in Jasper. You greet him while downing a bottle of water, holding up your hand to signal for him to wait. Once emptied, you place it next to the mini fridge, among a wide array of bottled water crates. That would explain the groceries June had brought in with Arcee’s help. As a medical professional she’s especially fretful over your condition, doing her best to prevent the risks of heat cycles, bringing you plenty of calorie dense fuel to combat the massive loss of nutrients. He has not forgotten the fear they experienced when they found you shaking from the deficit, having completely overlooked your hunger in a midst of desperation. In this form, he can appreciate the full extent of your body without fear of hurting you, kneading the supple flesh beneath his digits as you giggle and pull him into you. He does not tower over your reclined form as much as he encases you in a careful hug, hearing the rapid thrum of your human spark directly against his audials; he may sense your pulse rate, but experiencing it is a new wonder of its own. You tell him you missed him and you wish he would let himself go and come out to “obliterate your pussy” more often. He nods and apologizes for his absence even as you shush him and insist he enjoy himself as well. He is… the largest Cybertronian you’ve taken, you remark while adjusting to his size.

“Except maybe Wheeljack,” you add cheekily, already bucking into him. Your composure evaporates as he works you up, not to say that he is much better. He steadies himself over you, charge trickling down his interface as your walls clench around him in a vice-grip. You beg him for more, plead that he frag you until you can’t take it anymore, but he has grown used to your requests and knows when your body has reached its limit. You whimper and claw at his back plates, flush against his frame yet dragging him closer as though to merge your human spark to his.

If only he could.

Slow and steady, he frags you through your overloads, each one adding a new surge of spark down his frame until he comes to his end. You are small and shaking, but in this form he can properly hold you against his chassis and comfort you through the afterglow, bringing you another bottle of water and a Clif bar (chosen for the human scaling a mountain with “If you eat this you can kill God” in big bold letters).

You stir and sit up on shaky knees to accept his offerings. Halfway through your meal, you eye him up and down.

“Are you going to stay some more?” you ask with hopefulness, still chewing on the “ultimate nuts and banana power” concoction advertised on the packaging.

“I’m afraid not, Ratchet has been hard at work deciphering Decepticon encryptions, I will be taking on his duties for the night,” he tries to break it gently, expecting crushed expectations, not your bemused expression looking up at him.

“So you’re sending him my way?” You give a chuckle. “Wish we could have spent more time together, but work is work. Just…” you crawl into his lap and hug him as tight as you can, head resting against his chassis. “Please come back tomorrow. Or after tomorrow. I miss seeing you this way. I won’t get between you and… whatever you have going on, but please visit me more often. You have no idea how nice it feels to be around you.” His gaze softens, glowing faintly against your hair. “So I’ve been told,” he says, a smile on his lips. “As long as it lightens your burden.”

[waitingonher]

NIGHTS LIKE THESE — [hoo boys drabbles]

summary: how they react to your bad dreams.

author's note: i wrote leo's + jason's part imagining that the cabins/barracks have individual rooms sooo...also ik this trope is so ran through in the pjo fandom but it's just toooo good i couldn't help myself

percy jackson

percy has always been the type of person to pick up the phone no matter the time. even as he’s on a lone movie marathon and the scene reaches its long-anticipated climax, he’s reaching for his buzzing phone that’s lost beneath the sheets. having found it after the third ring, percy checks the time and the caller id. why are you calling him so late? he answers, “hi babe. i thought you had to wake up early this morning, why are you awake?” 

“hi percy,” your voice was shaky and congested, as if you’d been crying. percy immediately sits up, alarmed at the state of your voice, “did i wake you up?” 

“no, no, i was up watching movies. what’s wrong? is everything okay?” he’s seated at the edge of his bed now, anxiously awaiting your response. 

you force him to sit in silence as you think of an excuse, “yeah, um…i’m okay. i just wanted to hear your voice. but i’ll see you on thursday, okay? goodni-” 

“(y/n), what’s going on?” percy runs a hand through his hair as he heads out of his room to his kitchen. he rips off a napkin from the roll and snatches a pen from the drawer. on the napkin, he writes a brief message to sally, saying that he’d be over at your place and not to worry. 

“nothing. i’m fine, percy,” you mutter. but your boyfriend knows you too well. the way your voice quivers makes it sound as though you were trying to convince yourself that everything was okay, and you were failing miserably. 

percy places his phone between his ear and shoulder as he ties his shoes, “don’t leave me in the dark, (y/n).” 

“don’t worry about me. i’m fine it was just-” 

“babe, i’m coming over, okay?” and with that, percy hangs up. 

he’s walked this path over a hundred times, usually for dropping you off after dates or simply for hanging out with you. but this time, all percy can think about is how you sounded over the phone and that he needs to seriously pick up the pace. 

upon arrival, percy climbs up the fire escape ladder as quickly and quietly as possible. it’s only now that he’s grateful for his experience from all of those laborious quests. reaching your floor, he knocks delicately on the glass. 

“percy, what are you doing here?” you ask after he closes your window, “i’m sorry, you really didn’t need to come all this way. it’s like three in the morning and you-” 

your boyfriend silences you with a gentle kiss, “i’m okay. it’s you i’m worried about. what’s wrong?” 

“it was just a dream.” 

“just a dream?”

“yes, it was just a stupid dream.” 

percy grabs your shoulders, forcing you to look at him, “(y/n), you’re one of the strongest people i know. so if you were crying over it, then it really must be something.” 

you slump on your bed, and percy joins beside you. it's no use hiding it from percy, so with a sigh, you confess, “well, you’re here now. but it just felt so real,” your eyes begin to prick with tears again, “you were laying on the floor…and there was just so much blood, and i tried to stop it—i really did try—but it just kept coming and there was nothing else i could do.” 

honestly, percy didn’t know what to say. but he did know that if your dream was anything like the ones he had about you, they were emotionally and physically crushing. so, he decides that if he can’t say anything, he’d rather show you. percy gently guides your body, until the both of you are laying down. with a strong arm wrapped around your figure and the other rubbing slow circles on your back, he can only hope you understand the message he’s trying to convey. 

“i’m here, (y/n). everything’s going to be okay,” percy continues to whisper sweet nothings into your ear. slowly but surely, your crying mellows into only soft sniffles. 

as you lay on his chest, you can feel the rise and fall of his breathing body. it wasn’t at all like that dream of yours; his cold body eerily still on the floor. not at all like that. you allow yourself to slowly drift off with the rise and fall of his chest, strangely as if it were its own lullaby, “thank you, percy,” you manage to whisper. 

“i love you, (y/n). i’m not leaving you, ever. i promise,” percy whispers back. 

leo valdez

leo’s used to waking up several times in the middle of the night. considering the demigod dreams, he hasn’t remembered the last time he’s gotten a full night's rest, which is why he’s not surprised to be awake at the crisp hour of two a.m. he can’t even remember the dream this time, but leo bets it was another dream foreseeing his imminent death or the end of the world. 

as he stares at the pipes and wires running along the ceiling of bunker 9, a familiar ringtone sounds from his phone. leo quickly wipes the sleep from his eyes and picks up the phone from his nightstand, “(y/n)? are you okay? it’s so late.” 

there’s a silence, followed up by quiet sniffles. were you crying? “hi leo, i’m sorry i probably woke you up didn’t i? go back to sleep, i was-” 

“no i was already awake, what’s wrong?” the moment your boyfriend noticed your shaky voice, his attitude completely changed. suddenly awake and full of energy, he tears off his blanket and reaches for his hoodie and shoes.

considering the fact that you never really call so late alarms him. you calling either meant that you had a nightmare or you were hurt…and leo prayed it was the dream. 

“i’m sorry…” you take a deep breath, “i just had a bad dream, like one of those dreams, you know?” leo knows all too well what you’re talking about, and if it’s anything close to the dreams he has, he can only imagine what you’re feeling, “but i swear i’m okay now. i’ll see you later?” 

but leo’s already out the door as you finish your explanation, “i’m coming over, stay there.” 

“wait leo-” 

he hung up. 

the trek through the forest was usually something one would avoid, especially at this hour, but leo couldn't give less of a shit as he thinks about you crying in your room. a few minutes later after practically sprinting to your cabin, he arrives. locating the window to your room was easy, he’d done this several times before for your sleepovers. leo knocks as quietly as he can on the glass, hoping he doesn’t disturb any of your other siblings. 

surprised, you pull your curtain aside and are face to face with none other than your boyfriend. he looks sweaty and out of breath. leo ran all this way? pushing your question to the side, you rush to open the window and let him in. 

for the first time, leo really gets a good look at you. your eyes are red and puffy; you look at him with such desperation and he can’t help but pull you into a rib-cracking hug. 

“you actually came.” 

“what? of course i did, (y/n),” he takes your face into his hands, rubbing soft circles on each cheek. suddenly, tears begin to flow freely down your face. was it something he said? was he not supposed to come? 

you pick up on his confusion, “i’m sorry, i’m just…glad you’re alive,” leo sits you on your bed, and continues to wipe away the tears, his concern growing with each passing second. your boyfriend urges you to go on, “it’s just the same thing every night. i’m at your grave on the hill, and i’m all alone and it’s raining and i just-” 

“(y/n), breathe,” leo pulls you into his chest once more. he holds you so impossibly tight, ensuring that you know he’s there and he doesn’t plan to ever leave. his sacrifice during the final battle against gaia will forever be amongst one of leo’s biggest regrets. not because he had saved the world, but because of how hard it impacted you. without a doubt, you could easily say that those months where leo was gone were the hardest times of your life. and not a day goes by where leo thinks he can ever forgive himself for it, “i’m here. i’m alive.” 

you nod, your sobs turning into quiet hiccups. leo moves the two of you guys to be laying down, and as final reassurance, he gently guides your hand under his hoodie, allowing you to feel his steady heartbeat. your boyfriend’s skin is warm to the touch and you count his heartbeat…one…two…three. and that was proof enough, “you’re alive.” 

“i am,” leo soothes. he places a gentle kiss atop your head and pulls the covers over your bodies. his arms wrap tightly around your figure, holding you close, “sleep, (y/n). i’ll be here in the morning.”

jason grace

it’s late nights like these that jason has slowly come to appreciate. these scarce nights where he’s completed his praetor duties for the night and he allows himself to indulge in some self-care, which usually consists of a cup of hot herbal tea and a good book. 

usually, jason prefers historical books, oftentimes concerning roman myths or the occasional diary of some war general. what can he say? he likes to be all-knowing when it comes to these things. but this time, as he’s curled up in his bed, he reaches for the book that you had recommended to him: a classic romance novel. jason laughs to himself as he recalls you teasing him about his taste in literature. if he remembers correctly, you called him a “history-loving freak?” 

just as jason’s about to open the book, an unexpected ringing sounds from his phone. he huffs, momentarily disapointed. that is, until he sees who’s calling, “(y/n)? hi, are you okay?” 

“oh, hi,” jason noticed the way your voice sounded off, like you’d been crying, “i didn’t think you’d actually answer.” 

confused, he puts the book back on his nightstand, “of course i would, my love. what’s going on? you sound like you’ve been crying.” 

“no, everything’s okay i just…” you pause, “had a bad dream, so i wanted to listen to your voicemail.”

jason’s heart squeezes at the thought of you going so far as to listen to his own ten second voicemail as a method of comfort. but the feeling goes away just as quickly as it came upon hearing you had a nightmare, “oh i’m sorry, my love. do you want me to come over?” 

“no,” you reply, “it’s okay. i’m better now that i’ve heard your voice. you can go back to bed, jason.” 

despite you declining his offer, jason’s already up and putting his shoes on, “i’ll be there in a few, okay? i love you,” and he hangs up. 

within a handful of minutes, jason reaches your cohort’s barracks. the square windows look impossibly similar, but it’s all thanks to practice that he recognizes yours. even as praetor, he still has to enforce the rules and sneak around. with a quiet knock on your window, he waits in the dark for you. 

“you’re here. you’re alive, jason,” is all you can muster up as your boyfriend stands tall inside your room. his expression is clearly written with worry as he closes the gap between you with a hug. as hard as you tried to fight it, the tears came again in a fresh wave. 

“yeah, i’m here, (y/n). i’m not leaving,” he replies, concern laced in his words. jason notices your tears and gently wipes them away, “c’mere, tell me about your dream,” he beckons, guiding you towards the bed. with a gentle plop, he settles down and opens his arms, inviting you to join him.

settling against jason’s chest, you take a shaky breath as he places kisses on your temple, “i was at your funeral, and you looked so peaceful, like you were sleeping. i just can’t stop thinking about how you looked asleep. and then they expected me to, you know, give a speech in front of the entire camp about you, and i just…i can’t imagine a world without you, so please, you can’t leave me like that.” 

“woah, woah, (y/n) i’m okay, breathe,” jason hushes you, rubbing soft circles on your arm. to be frank, he’s pretty shocked about what you had just said. he can’t get over how shaken up you are by this. but jason can’t even blame you, because if it were him who had the dream, he bets he would also be like this, “i’m here and i have no plan of ever leaving, okay? i’m afraid you’re stuck with me for the rest of your life,” he jokes, hoping to get at least a smile from you. 

jason’s joke succeeds as he feels your body shake with a quiet giggle, “good. i wouldn’t have it any other way.” 

your boyfriend checks your face once more, ensuring that you’ve stopped crying. seeing that you have, he places delicate kisses on each cheek, “hey, how about we go to sleep now? i’ll read you that book,” jason motions to the book on your nightstand, which happens to be the same one you recommended him. 

you nod tiredly, “only if you do different voices for each character.” 

“of course, only for you,” jason quips. 

after adjusting your bodies, jason reaches for the book and opens it to chapter one. but before he begins, he pulls the covers completely over your body and places a chaste kiss on your forehead, “i love you so much, (y/n). and i hope you know that i’ll always be here for you, no matter what.”

[cybrasigilism]

Can you do nsfw alphabet w nam-gyu? 🤭

NSFW ALPHABET with Player 124 (Nam-gyu)

warning: smut and all things of the like, the usual | not proofread | lowercase intended | these are my headcanons for this character, please be respectful even if my opinions on the character differs from your own

character: nam-gyu (player 124)

A/N: since i have another nam-gyu request lined up and cooking in my drafts i figured this would be a great way to get comfy in writing for him. it’s nice to see some player 124 fans up in the fandom especially since he shouldn’t be getting hate for the same shit thanos was also doing (yes i know he did kill se-mi and he did lose some credit with me for that, but i fear i saw that one coming a mile away). also, THANK YOU GUYS FOR 100 FOLLOWERS? i’m genuinely blown away by the sheer amount of support y’all have given me and I’m eternally grateful :’)

MDNI! 18+ content under the cut, reader’s discretion is advised

══════════════════

A= Aftercare what they’re like after sex

↳ based on how clingy he is with his friends? yeah, he’s gonna be down for a cuddle post-sex. if it’s a one and done thing though, don’t expect much in the regards of after care. at most he might offer you a smoke but he’s only super affectionate if you guys are in a relationship

B= Body part their favourite body part of theirs + their partners

↳ his and your favourite part of his body is his hands, without a doubt. his favourite part of his partner? hands down we’ve got ourselves another ass man, and who’s surprised?

C= Cum anything to do with cum, really

↳ bites his lip when he gets close (just gonna put this here and run off)

D= Dirty Secret a dirty secret of theirs

↳ really, and i mean really, loves how you look with his hands around your neck

E= Experience how experienced are they? do they know what their doing, etc.

↳ i get the impression that he’s fairly experienced, and he does know what he’s doing in the regards of rougher sex. however he does need guidance when it comes to more intimate, gentler sex

F= Favourite Position this one speaks for itself

↳ any position where you’re riding him is his favourite. he loves being able to feel you up and take as much control as he feels like, while still letting you do most of the work.

G= Goofy are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous, etc.

↳ regardless of whether he’s on top or not, he will be mocking you. it’s all out of love of course, but sometimes that can be called into question

I= Intimate how are they in the moment, the romantic aspect?

↳ it really takes a while for him to warm up to gentler fucking, especially since he’s so used to rough + sloppy one night stands. it’s always jarring to see him get vulnerable with you though

J= Jack off masturbation headcanons

↳ talks you through touching yourself OH MY GOD THIS DAMN WIND AGAIN SOMEONE SHUT THE WINDOWS-

L= Location their favourite place to do the do

↳ semi-public sex turns him on, need i say more?

M= Motivation what turns them on, gets them going?

↳ total cliche, but seeing you in revealing outfits totally gets him aroused. if you’re wearing something that hugs your ass just right, yeah you won’t be wearing it for much longer

N= No something they won’t do

↳ i don’t feel like there’s a lot this guy wouldn’t do, but if anything it’s probably pegging

O= Oral their preference on giving or receiving oral, how skilled are they, etc.

↳ couldn’t care less if he’s eating you out or if you’re sucking his dick, he’s always down for oral sex. hell, he’s probably into doing 69 but that’s for him to know, and for you to find out

P= Pace are they fast + rough? slow + sensual? etc.

↳ he’s typically going to be pretty rough, he’ll be gentle somewhat at the start if you specify that you’re a virgin but trust that the gentle act will cease quite soon into the fucking™️

Q= Quickie their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.

↳ he absolutely loves quickies, there’s something about that adrenaline kick that he can’t get enough of

R= Risk are they game to experiment? how do they feel about risk?

↳ if any one of the squid game characters is down to experiment with risk, it’s nam-gyu. if he’s willing to take crazy unknown drugs from thanos in the games, he’s willing to experiment in bed

S= Stamina how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last? etc.

↳ is it the drugs? is it his experience? god knows. but whatever it is, his stamina is pretty crazy. he will usually outlast you in the matter of rounds, but that might also be because of how thankless he is on your pussy

T= Toys do they own any toys? do they use them on themselves or their partner?

↳ i’m not sure he’d be the kind of guy to own crazy toys, definitely owns a couple fleshlights, and he will use vibrators on you if you bring them

U= Unfair how much they like to tease/be teased

↳ lets not kid ourselves here. he is the king of mean teasing, he’ll tease you the whole time if he feels like you deserve it

V= Volume how loud they are, what sounds they make etc.

↳ definitely not much of a moaner, more so grunts and what have you especially if he’s in control. he’ll call you his “personal fucktoy”. something i could totally see him saying while he’s fucking you is “fuck, ‘so tight for me. nice to see what a pathetic little slut you are.”

W= Wildcard a random headcanon for the character

↳ really good with his hands. he will tease your clit if he’s able

X= X-ray what’s going on under those clothes?

↳ is he super jacked? no. does he have a fair amount of muscle on him? yes absolutely. for size, he’s easily 6” hard

Y= Yearning how high is their sex drive?

↳ his sex drive is almost concerning. point blank

Z= Zzz how fast they fall asleep after

↳ don’t expect him to wait up for you. if he’s super worn out he’s heading off to snooze-ville before you do

══════════════════

thanks for the request! i’ve been meaning to write for nam-gyu especially since he does not get enough recognition in the fandom :)

as always, any advice/constructive criticism on how i can improve my writing is appreciated and requested! have a gorgeous day all 💋

tags: @gabbystinks

[gothwineaunts]

sorry people seem to be being so rude to you + flynn :(. I love Nevermore, and whenever it updates it genuinely makes my week 1000x better. I hope you both have the best of days!

That made me smile, I'm happy to hear it makes your week better. We've got a lot of really exciting stuff coming up this season, and I'm really proud of it, no matter what anyone says! The vast majority of our readers are so smart, so literary, and just a bunch of adorable l'il bookworms and we feel so very grateful for you. Of course, there's been some nasty stuff circulating since the new season started, too. I don't know what happened, there. Most of the complaints don't even really make sense to me. I think maybe for some people it just feels good to hate things? Though, I kinda wanna remind folks. We're not characters. Ik it sounds crazy, but we're actually real people sitting back to back in a real apartment. And there's only two of us working on this entire series. So idk. Personally I think tearing apart every panel of the new season just to say the art sucks now, calling the story poorly written and not canon (???), and slapping bad faith oversimplified fastpass spoilers in front of anyone who will listen is exposing a kind of cruelty I wouldn't want other people knowing I'm capable of. But, go off ig. Hope they're having fun at least. Those people may be noisy, but they're also so few and so far between. We've gotten so many sweet messages and comments supporting us through the nastiness, and it's really reminded me how lovely this fandom is, when you look past the hecklers. So don't worry about us, it's not something we've been taking very seriously. We're just hyped to get into the season. <3

[bicth-and-in-that-order]

Let’s talk about THAT CaitVi scene and the fandom’s response to it

All cards out on the table, I used to adore CaitVi. I was there in the trenches reading the fanfics, watching the shipping videos, even going on fucking dynasty scans for the fanart + doujinshis😭 (iykyk). I loved CaitVi down bad, and of all the things I was most excited for in S2, this ship becoming canon was near the top of the list. I say this to say I don’t come from a place of apathy or hatred when it comes to this ship, but just genuine disappointment and disgust for how it was mishandled in season 2. Particularly when it comes to the abuse.

In preparation of this rant, I did my homework to fully understand both sides. I watched this video:

Which explains Cait’s behavior and even addresses her physical abuse. And, as much as it pains me to say this, I looked through the CaitVi tag on tumblr and read as many posts as I could defending Caitlyn and CaitVi as a ship.

Before I begin, I think it would be fair to lay out the main defense before tearing into these people. So let’s talk about Cait:

The main thesis of “Stop Me Oh’s” video and many other CaitVi shippers is that Caitlyn is someone who doesnt like to communicate her feelings and thinks actions speak louder than words. By helping Vi without hesitation during Act 2 and putting aside her grief to allow Vi a chance to talk to Jinx, someone who murdered her mother, Cait is already showing immense remorse. She’s taking steps to make amends for her actions and proving that her love and trust in Vi outweighs her desire to get revenge. She doesn’t need to actually utter a single apology when she’s done more than enough to make up for her misgivings.

And excusing the whole fascist thing, ALL she did was hit Vi. She didn’t kill the poor thing like Jayce and they weren’t fighting to death like Ekko and Jinx:

And, let’s be honest, wouldn’t you do the same? Put yourself Cait’s shoes. Imagine your family was blown up by your partner’s crazy lunatic sister. You watched her turn your world upside down. And while your partner is fully supportive of hunting down your mother’s murderer, she suddenly switches up when it’s time to actually go through with it. She’s stopping you from shooting this deranged killer all because you MIGHT shoot some annoying child. And then you miss the best chance you’ll ever get to take down this terrorist and your partner comes crawling back to you, talking about how you’re just like that murderer. Then, in the heat of the moment, you hit her with the butt of your gun. You hit her and you abandon her in a hole while she cries on the ground. It’s harsh, but doesn’t she deserve it?

Don’t you see? Cait is a poor rich girl who lost her mother. Unlike these other murderers and thugs, all she did was hit Vi during a moment of passion and would never, ever, ever, ever, do it again. Vi should be grateful Cait even let her see her only family, she could’ve just fucking killed the bitch.

Okay. Jokes asides, let’s just address each of these points one by one.

1. Cait already apologized through her actions

This is the most common defense I see for Cait, and it’ll be the lengthiest one too.

So my question is: For what?

Ignoring the fact that verbally apologizing IS an action, how does Cait deciding not to pursue Jinx and allowing Vi to see her only family correlate to her making amends for the physical abuse?At the very least , I can see Cait siding against Ambessa and admitting she fell for propaganda as “apologizing” for her turning to fascism. I guess. But what is Cait atoning for exactly when she helps out Vi? I’ll try to explain what I think it is:

When Cait says Vi has Jinx’s blood, shoves her gun into her stomach, and leaves her in a ditch, that represents her no longer trusting Vi. Cait thinks she’ll choose Jinx over her. So later, when Cait sides with Vi and allows her to see Jinx, it’s shows that she’s willing to trust Vi again and her judgement of character. Which Vi understands. When we think about it this way, Cait hitting Vi isn’t read as “physical abuse” by the narrative because the physical act of violence isn’t the issue the writers are trying to portray. No, the issue is Cait no longer trusting Vi. Physical abuse was just used as a vehicle to convey Cait’s distrust of Vi, who she now sees as a stranger/enemy….for like, an episode or two, then switches up lol.

But my point in saying all of this is, Cait isn’t really “apologizing through her actions” about the physical abuse. In fact, that was never even a consideration. And no, we’re not going to brush it off by saying “well shouldn’t this count for Cait hitting Vi too”. If we’re to take physical abuse seriously, and WE ARE you freaks, this is an offense that Cait needs to address separately. Properly.

Imagine if someone punched you in the face then stole your cookies. They never apologize to you for anything, but over the following days, they buy you cookies, maybe even some milk. Do you think these actions are enough of an “apology” for punching you in the fucking face? If they are then you need some serious help.

Ah, and contrary to the popular belief that Cait doesn’t need to verbally apologize bc she shows her actions through words and yadda yadda yadda, Cait does, in fact, try to apologize in Jinx’s suicide cell. About fucking Maddie. Then she gets cut off. You would think Cait wouldn’t feel the need to apologize about Maddie since “aCtIonS sPeAk LoUdeR tHaN wOrDs” but I guess Cait picks and choose what she feels sorry about.

And I can already hear the counter argument. “It’s not about if I forgive Cait, but if Vi does since she’s the victim. Cait and Vi kiss and make up, and by the season’s end, they’re a couple. Therefore, Vi forgives Cait about everything.”

Putting aside the cycle of abuse, my question is: how does Vi feel about Cait hitting her? And vice versa. Since the fandom loves throwing “media literacy” around so much, let’s put that to the test. While the physical abuse is never brought up, hinted at, thought about, or addressed ever again (much like how the fandom treats it), that doesn’t mean we can’t talk about the implications.

If Vi doesn’t specifically mention the physical abuse, what does that mean for her character? Did Vi think she deserved it, or maybe she was just used to it, maybe she thought it was in the heat of the moment and Cait would never hurt her again (super toxic mindset btw), etc etc.

If Cait never mentions her physically abusing Vi, what does that mean for her character? Does she even care, does she think she was justified, did she think Vi could take it, why is Maddie the first thing she apologizes about and not hitting Vi and leaving her in a dank hole?

Because we could easily be getting into toxic/abusive territory, and when it comes to physical violence, there’s very little wiggle room for a more positive interpretation.

2. These characters aren’t perfect, they’re flawed

So this argument falls back on the “well pobody’s nerfect” defense and to that extent I agree. I think Cait is selfish and callous, but all the other characters who have similar flaws (think Silco, Marco, Ambessa, probably more) end up fucking dying and/or have actual narrative consequences. I’ve seen people argue that Cait losing her eye is a narrative consequence and IT IS for Cait’s alt right phase and choosing to follow Ambessa but it’s NOT for hitting Vi. Neither is Maddie betraying her. An appropriate narrative consequence would’ve been Vi leaving her ass, but I promise you the same people defending Cait would’ve had a thousand think pieces about how the writers sabotaged Cait’s character. Arcane is NOT a show about bad people getting away with bad things either.

3. Well Jayce killed Viktor / Ekko and Jinx tried to kill each other

So this argument acknowledges Cait’s abuse and her lack of apology but tries to deflect by claiming the other couples are violent, if not more. Even though this is a classic whataboutism, I’ll address it. I won’t acknowledge the timebomb side of the argument because it’s incredibly dumb, but for Jayvik, where do we begin? Recall that after Cait and Vi kissed, they were on romantic terms. That’s why Cait even bothers bringing up Maddie, and it’s really more so to let the viewer know Cait will excuse abuse but draws the line at infidelity. During Act 2, Jayce and Viktor are enemies and Viktor will literally kill everyone if he continues on his path. Jayce could have at least talked to Viktor first, but the writers chose to make him deranged or whatever so that was out of the question. And again, they’re enemies. Fighting isn’t off the table, even killing. If Viktor sucker punched Jayce while they were astral projecting together, then that might be analogous to Cait and Vi, but they don’t.

4. Not all relationships are perfect

This is one is similar to point two, but I’m taking a different angle. No, not all relationships are perfect, but I would never call physical abuse a “flaw” that’s to be expected in a normal, healthy relationship. Once you introduce violence, we call that abusive. I didn’t know we were in dire need of an abusive lesbian relationship, but I’ll walk with you.

If Arcane had the balls, CaitVi could’ve been portrayed as the toxic yuri couple it clearly is. They could’ve leaned into Vi being desperate enough to take Cait back and Cait not giving a single fuck about hitting Vi and leaving her. And if they did, this post wouldn’t exist. But they don’t. We’re genuinely supposed to like this slop and view it as a good thing because they kiss and play fun pop music while they fuck instead of the more appropriate “Poison” (by Bell Biv DeVoe ofc).

5. Well Jinx did XYZ to Vi

Another whataboutism. At risk of making this post longer than it already is, I’m gonna be brief. Yes, Jinx did awful things to Vi, but the narrative properly punishes Jinx for all of her actions (I mean the girl literally sacrifices herself) and wastes no time calling her out, especially Vi. Behind Cait, Vi is Jinx’s biggest hater. Literally chokes the girl out on sight. So let’s not pretend there’s some hypocrisy going on here, though it doesn’t escape me that many Cait fans end up being Jinx haters.

With that, I think I’ve covered all the major defenses for Caitvi’s physical abuse. All I can say is that the relationship is fucked and Vi deserves better.

[prettygirl-gabi]

“To the Moon and Beyond” pt.4

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Azzi Fudd x Reader (Pazzi x Reader)

Fandom: NCAA Women’s Basketball / WNBA

Warnings: cheating, revenge cheating, eventually in later parts there will be 18+ content (smut, alcohol consumption, strong language), polyamory, public teasing/flirting (in later parts)

Summary: A tangled history of love, heartbreak, and hidden desire leads three elite players into a secret relationship—and the WNBA spotlight.

A/N: yes this is hella long… I got in a groove and couldn’t stop writing… but yeahh enjoy!! This is also one of the longest fics I’ve ever written… will be multiple parts….cause it’s too long for tumblr…

Also thank you @paige05bby for the banner/header

🏷️: @paigeshirleytemple , @unknowgirlypop , @yailtsv , @nicebellee , @sitawita , @thatonesuschix , @vamptizm , @elalfywhore , @starfulani , @authentic-girl03 , @paxaz535 , @azziswrld , @jadasogay , @paigeluvvr , @melpthatsme , @lessi-lover , @courtsidewithlani , @imnotkaizer , @italyyy , @lightsgore , @private-but-not-a-secret , @aubreygriffin , @issilovesherself , @graceeeeeesblog

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the 2025 WNBA Draft.”

The venue erupts in applause, a few camera flashes already firing off as families sit up straighter, hands tightening on the backs of their loved ones’ chairs.

I glance back toward Paige’s table — she’s seated now, nestled between Bob and Azzi. Amy’s beaming, Coach Geno leaning in to say something that makes Azzi laugh behind her hand.

It’s a beautiful picture, but even from here, I can see the weight in Paige’s shoulders. The quiet tension in her jaw as the clock ticks down.

Then—

“With the number one pick in the 2025 WNBA Draft, the Dallas Wings select… Paige Bueckers from the University of Connecticut.”

The venue explodes. Clapping, screaming, camera shutters.

Paige’s POV:

My head drops for a second. Not in disbelief—I knew this moment was coming. But it’s reverent. Like I’m praying not to fall apart under the weight of what it means.

Azzi hugs me first. It’s tight. Long. She says something low into my neck and I can’t even register it through the rush in my ears, but it keeps me grounded.

Coach Geno’s next, grinning like a proud dad. He pats my back twice, then holds my arms like he wants to say something else — but doesn’t need to. It’s in his eyes.

Then my dad, pulling me into a tight squeeze.

And my mom. Her hands cradle my face before she kisses my forehead, her eyes glossy. “I love you, Mads.”

“I love you too, Mama.”

But I’m not done.

Before I even take a step toward the stage, my feet veer right — toward the only other table that matters.

She stands the second I approach.

We don’t say anything at first. We just hug. And it’s real — real like everything that’s ever existed between us.

Her lips brush my ear.

“M’so proud of you, Madsy. I love you to the moon and beyond.”

I pull back just enough to whisper, “You’re a reason I’m number one.”

Her eyes water, and I can’t stay in that too long or I’ll lose it completely. So I let go, step back, and head toward the stage.

I pose with the commissioner, jersey held high. Smile locked in place.

But before I even make it down the steps good, I get gently pulled into an interview setup on the side of the stage — Holly Rowe waiting, mic in hand.

“Paige, what does it feel like to hear your name being called as the number one draft pick? What’s racing through your mind right now?”

I laugh, a breath of disbelief caught in my throat. “Umm… just an overwhelming sense of gratitude. Uh, it’s super surreal — just being here with the other draft invitees. My teammates are here, my family’s here. I’m just super grateful. I’ve been focusing on staying present, staying where my feet are… and to be here right now? I’m extremely blessed.”

Holly nods, eyes soft. “You fought through the hardest times to still be here, standing, against all odds.”

I blink, then nod slowly. “Uh, through my faith. Through God’s purpose. Through my teammates, my family.

The coaching staff, the strength and conditioning staff. Everybody’s invested a lot in me. It’s part of me wanting to give back to them — show that I can do better, show them that their hard work helped me get to this stage. I didn’t do it alone. It took a village. So I’m extremely grateful for them.”

“And what about your teammates who came here to support you tonight — how important has this group of women been to your journey?”

That one gets me.

I swallow, blinking hard as my voice tightens. “Uh… they’ve changed my life. Those are my sisters.”

I pause. Just for a second.

“Just extremely grateful for them. I think two teams — or one smart one — should absolutely pick up Kaitlyn Chen and Aubrey Griffin tonight. They’re ready. I believe in them. I love them. And they’re going to be my sisters for life.”

Holly smiles. “Last one. What’s it been like to be drafted the same night as your childhood best friend — someone you’ve played with since your Rec and AAU days all the way through high school? What was going through your mind when you hugged Y/n before coming up here?”

My chest tightens.

“It felt like I was letting go of a breath I didn’t know I was holding in,” I say slowly, honestly. “She’s been a part of my village since day one, basically. And I just… yeah. The distance meant nothing in our friendship — we made it work. And I just love her. To the moon and beyond.”

I smile, blinking quickly as I look over toward her again.

“And I can’t wait to play against or with her in the W.”

The interview ends, and the applause picks up again.

Y/n’s POV:

Suddenly it’s my turn now, and the cameras all pan to me.

“With the number five pick in the 2025 WNBA Draft, the Golden State Valkyries select… Y/n Y/l/n from the University of Southern California.”

Everything else blurs for a second.

I hug my grandma first — her arms trembling as she whispers prayers against my cheek. Then my grandpa, whose voice cracks as he says, “You did it, baby.”

My dad is next, pulling me in like he used to after every high school game, and then my mom — eyes full, hands cradling my face like I’m five years old again.

I soak it in. All of it. Every touch, every tear.

Then I walk toward Paige’s table.

She’s already on her feet, arms wide open.

“You did it, mama” she whispers in my ear the second I’m wrapped in her. Her voice is quiet, thick with emotion. “Go do great things, yeah?”

I nod into her shoulder, eyes squeezed shut just to stay in the moment.

Azzi’s arms come next, folding around both of us for a beat before Paige steps aside.

“One chapter ends. A new one starts,” Azzi says into my ear. “Give ’em hell, baby. You deserve it.”

And then there’s Kiki, grinning with watery eyes, pulling me in for a tight hug that makes me laugh through my tears. “You’re my favorite hooper, don’t tell nobody.”

I finally make my way up to the stage, taking my picture with the commissioner before stepping off and walking straight into Holly Rowe’s interview zone.

The lights are hot. The mic in her hand steady. She smiles warmly as the camera rolls.

“Y/n,” she begins, “first off, congratulations. How does it feel to officially be a Golden State Valkyrie?”

I let out a small laugh, still slightly breathless. “It feels insane. Surreal. Like… something I dreamed about since I was a little girl. To hear my name, to walk that stage, to know I’m repping a team like Golden State—it’s everything. I’m ready.”

Holly nods. “And right before you went up, we saw you hugging Paige Bueckers, Azzi Fudd, and your USC teammate Kiki Iriafen. Especially Paige,” she adds with a slight smile, her tone shifting, probing. “What was it like to have that moment with her?”

The second she says especially Paige, something tightens in my chest.

I blink quickly, trying not to break. But the lump is there.

“It felt like… home,” I say, voice soft, then firmer. “Like everything we’ve been through wasn’t for nothing.”

I glance over to where Paige and Azzi stand watching, arms crossed, eyes full.

“They’ve kept me up when I didn’t think I’d get up. My teammates like Kiki and Rayah, they’ve been some of my biggest pillars at USC. I couldn’t have made it without them.”

My voice starts to catch, and I steady my breath.

“And… and just to experience this moment with such an amazing friend like Paige, it’s surreal. She’s been there for me through the good, the bad, the ugly, and so much more. So to be able to share that hug with her in that moment…” I pause, eyes welling. “It just felt like I was back home.”

Holly gives a soft, yet mischievous smile that only I can pick up on after years of media training. But I can also see the glint in her eyes — the one that means she’s fishing for something.

Something I wasn’t going to give her.

And then.

She tilts her head slightly. “So, earlier tonight, Paige also said something… heartfelt during her own interview. The same phrase you just used, actually: To the moon and beyond. I’m curious — can you tell us what that means to hear those words from her? How does it pertain to the love you two clearly share? And how does it feel to have such a special phrase between the two of you?”

The air stills.

My jaw flexes just slightly. My media training kicks in, but my eyes? They cut daggers.

I smile — calm, warm, but firm. “I think what’s special between Paige and I, or Azzi and I, or really anyone who’s supported me, is just that — it’s special. Personal. Something we’ve built through years of growth, struggle, and love in every form it takes.”

I let the words settle.

“That phrase—To the moon and beyond—isn’t about spectacle. It’s about loyalty. Gratitude. Being proud of the people you’ve walked through fire with.”

And then, softer — deliberate:

“I’m proud of her. I’m proud of us. And yeah— I love her to the moon and beyond.”

The crowd around us claps quietly, moved, and Holly gives a slightly more sheepish nod as the segment wraps.

“Congratulations, Y/n,” she says. “Golden State’s lucky to have you.”

I thank her, walking down the steps.

But as I pass her, I pause just long enough to lean in for a quick, polite hug. Close enough for only her to hear.

“Respectfully,” I whisper, “what you just did was inappropriate. This is an important night, for women, not a time to be messy for a headline.”

And I keep walking — head high, heels clicking, Valkyrie-purple and black draft cap now tilted on my head like a crown.

But by now, as the third round had started most of the crowd has thinned out.

The glitz and chaos of the first two rounds faded into calmer applause, quieter conversations, softer flashes from cameras less concerned with making headlines and more about capturing heart.

I could’ve left by now. Most people in my shoes would’ve. But I stayed.

Part of it was respect — for the women still waiting to hear their names called, still gripping hope in one hand and faith in the other. But mostly? It was because Paige and Azzi hadn’t left yet. And I wasn’t going anywhere without them. Also, their teammates who I’ve became friends with over the years.

I was sitting beside Azzi, my heels long abandoned, barefoot and leaning my head on her shoulder like she’s known me forever. Technically, she kind of has.

Paige’s off doing media — bouncing between interviews and photo ops, still glowing from her number one selection. But I know she’s itching to come back. She always finds her way back.

That’s when the room shifts.

A pause. A slight hush. And then—

“With the 30th pick in the 2025 WNBA Draft, the Golden State Valkyries select… Kaitlyn Chen from the University of Connecticut.”

The reaction her teammates and I is massive. But it’s real, and raw.

Kaitlyn gasps from where she’s seated with her UConn teammates toward the back, hands flying up to cover her mouth, pure disbelief painting every line of her face. The girls erupt around her, jumping to their feet, whooping, hugging, pulling her into a pile of joy and disbelief.

I rise to my feet too, clapping, grinning, and—

“YOOOOO! LETS GOOO CHENY CHEN!”

A familiar voice echoes as Paige comes running full-speed back into the venue from the hallway, her face plastered with a proud mom smile.

“LET’S GOOOO, KAIT!” she shouts, and suddenly she’s in the pile too, lifting Kaitlyn halfway off the ground in a hug so tight it almost knocks them both over.

Azzi’s laughing from beside me, already filming it on her phone. “She sprinted in here like it was a buzzer beater.”

“She’s never moved that fast in transition,” I tease, nudging her.

The joy is infectious, like we’re all breathing in some shared miracle.

And just as the room begins to settle again, another voice fills the speakers.

“With the 37th pick in the 2025 WNBA Draft, the Minnesota Lynx select… Aubrey Griffin from the University of Connecticut.”

The girls, Azzi and I jump to our feet again. Jana was the first to pull Aubrey in a hug.

“I told you. I fuck told you.” She said as she finally let Aubrey go, within seconds, Paige is, grabbing Aubrey in the kind of hug that lifts her clean off the ground too.

More laughter. More love.

The applause hasn’t even fully faded from my ears by the time we’re slipping into the private elevator together—me, Paige, and Azzi, tucked away from the noise and flashing cameras.

Azzi’s got her arm looped around my waist, her thumb gently brushing over the exposed skin of my back. Paige is leaning against the wall, still slightly buzzed from all the emotions and champagne, a soft smirk on her lips.

“You’re really not gonna tell us what you’re wearing to your party?” Paige asks, stepping forward and boxing me in with her arms on either side of the elevator panel.

“You’re both in for a surprise,” I grin, nudging her chest gently with a finger. “You really thought I’d let Brittany dress me like that and not make y’all wait?”

“Brittany won’t even text us back,” Azzi huffs.

“Exactly,” I wink.

The elevator dings, and Paige steals a kiss—soft, sweet, pressed right against the corner of my mouth like it’s instinct.

Azzi leans in next, brushing her lips over my cheek, her voice low and warm. “We’ll see you soon, star girl.”

We split off at the lobby—Paige and Azzi headed to their car back to the hotel to change, and me toward my suite upstairs to get ready.

The private suite smells like body oil and setting spray, the air thick with glam prep and controlled chaos.

My team is already there waiting—my makeup artist starts a completely new look on my face, my nail tech adjusting new rhinestones, and Brittany? She’s holding a glass of champagne and pacing, talking like she’s coaching a championship game.

Halfway through getting changed, my phone lights up.

FaceTime: Paige

I smirk and answer, angling the camera so she only sees my face in a robe and glam half-done.

Her eyes narrow.

“Where’s the dress?”

“Hi to you too,” I laugh, adjusting the robe collar.

“Brittany’s being a vault,” she groans. “Azzi tried calling her and got nothing but ‘no spoilers.’ C’mon babe, just a hint? Straps? Color? Texture?”

I shake my head, smug. “Sorry babe, you both gotta wait and watch to see what your woman is gonna pop out in.”

“That’s so disrespectful,” she pouts. “How am I supposed to survive this?”

“I believe in you,” I wink, blowing her a kiss before hanging up.

Minutes later—

FaceTime: Azzi

I’m in my mini robe and getting a final touch-up on my lips when I answer. Azzi’s hair is slicked up in a bun and she’s in a gorgeous shimmery black dress, but the second she sees me, she squints dramatically.

“What are you wearing?! I know it’s not just a robe.”

Before I can answer, Brittany swoops in from behind, sipping from a flute and wagging her finger in front of the camera.

“Nope,” she says with her full chest. “She didn’t see y’all’s lil outfit change—y’all can’t see hers. I don’t care if she’s y’all’s girlfriend or not. There will be no spoilers.”

Azzi’s mouth falls open. “This is so not fair.”

“You’ll live,” I grin.

With that I ended the call and began getting dressed.

Brittany had helped me change into this black mini that’s doing exactly what it needs to.

Strapless, velvet up top, hugging me just right, and the skirt? Full of these little textured ruffles that bounce every time I move. It’s short—like, “you really made it to the league” short—but not too much. Just enough to feel fun, a little bold.

I’ve got on these strappy heels that make my legs look a mile long, and I’m carrying this tiny leopard-print bag that really doesn’t hold anything but makes the outfit pop. I feel like I could walk into any room and own it. Scratch that—I already did.

“Girl, Paige and Azzi not even ready for you,” Brittany says, turning toward me just as the hairstylist finishes pressing the last section of my wig.

“I already got them looking bad and boujee at Paige’s party, but you? Oh, you ‘bout to make jaws drop. Hell—mine already on the floor and you ain’t even stood up yet.”

I grin in the mirror, watching my reflection morph into something out of a dream.

The wig is immaculate—deep, rich violet with a soft wave to it, edges laid to perfection, giving main character energy and a little bit of what the fuck you gonna do about it?

My hairstylist gives me a final fluff, a nod of approval. “Purple’s your color, babe. You’re giving future MVP.”

I rise from the vanity slowly, deliberately, the velvet mini hugging me in all the right places, the ruffled skirt catching the light with every step I take.

Brittany lets out a full “Whew!” and does a slow, dramatic circle around me like she’s evaluating art. “Yeah, no, you can’t sit with us type shit. You’re giving league legend meets Vanity Fair cover meets… ‘I got your girl and your backup dancer.’”

I laugh, throwing my arms around her. “I’m not even at Paige’s yet.”

“You don’t need to be,” she says, sipping her champagne. “The minute you walk in, the whole place gonna go silent. Azzi gon’ choke on her drink. Paige? Paige is probably gon’ stutter and forget how to function. You about to put every post-game interview she ever did to shame.”

“She doesn’t even know what I’m wearing,” I murmur, smoothing the dress over my hips one more time, heart doing a little dance in my chest.

“And that’s exactly why she about to lose her mind.”

My phone pings.

🦵🏽: “Paige just made me take another shot because you’re not here yet. And we have no idea what you’re wearing. Where are you, baby?”

I smile down at it, thumbs dancing over the screen.

Me: “I be there shortly babe. Tell P to pace herself. I need her upright.”

🦵🏽: “No promises. But hurry. We need you.”

My breath hitches a little, heart fluttering under the weight of her words.

I close my clutch, give my wig one final fluff, and turn to Brittany.

“Time to go turn parties upside down.”

Brittany flashes her teeth. “Let’s go, Valkyrie.”

The bass thumps steady beneath my heels as I step further into the private lounge, lights dimmed low, champagne already bubbling in glasses, and my name etched in silver across a custom neon sign hanging above the bar.

Y/N Y/L/N — Valkyrie Made.

It’s surreal. All of it.

My after party’s buzzing—friends from USC, family from back home, even a few familiar faces from the league who’ve come to show love.

Cousins are off in the corner doing some version of a victory dance to whatever DJ is spinning. My mom’s laughing with my aunt, both holding cocktails, and my dad? He’s already found the dessert table. Classic.

Every hug, every toast, every flash of a camera feels like a quiet you made it.

I check my phone for the fifth time in ten minutes.

Paige sent a photo earlier—her in a white linen shirt left half open, a chain glinting at her collarbone, a drink in hand, Azzi leaning into the frame mid-laugh. Wish you were here, the caption said. You look like a star tonight.

I smiled so hard I had to step away from the bar.

They’re still at Paige’s official draft party—bigger venue, fancier crowd. UConn royalty everywhere. I told them I’d stop by later. I wanted this first—my people, my space, my moment.

But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t counting down until I could be in Paige’s arms again.

For now, though?

I toss my head back and laugh at something my cousin shouts over the music. Someone’s uncle tries to breakdance. High school friends and I are screaming along to Nicki lyrics.

And I just let myself exist in this joy.

Drafted. Loved. Alive in the moment.

Tonight, I celebrate everything.

And soon, I’ll go celebrate her.

And her, too.

Because lucky me?

I got both.

The driver pulls up outside the venue, for P’s party, a velvet-rope affair in downtown Brooklyn, camera flashes already popping as we step out. But the moment I walk in?

It’s like the air changes.

The bass is deep, sensual—SZA’s “Used” thumping through the walls—and heads turn instantly. My dress, my skin, this hair. My Golden State Valkyries cap from earlier is still in my clutch, and I slide it on backward as I walk through the crowd, owning it.

Azzi sees me first—nearly drops her drink, eyes bugging out as she grips Paige’s arm like she just saw Beyoncé.

“Oh my God,” she breathes.

Paige turns.

Freezes.

Then stares.

Like I just stepped off the cover of a fantasy she’s never dared say out loud.

Mouth parted, eyes locked on mine, shirt still half-open, gold chain glinting at her collarbone.

“Holy shit,” she whispers.

Then louder. “Holy. Shit.”

Azzi’s fanning herself. “Paige, are you breathing? You good?”

She leans back and really looks at me then—eyes widening like she’s seeing me for the first time tonight.

Paige blinks like she forgot how to be a functioning adult. “She’s wearing black. Her hair is purple. What the fuck. What the—who let her walk in like this?”

Her gaze dragging down my body and back up with exaggerated reverence. “I—uh. Yeah. No. You ate. Like. I’m not okay.”

“I told you,” Brittany cackles from behind me, brushing invisible lint off my shoulder. “Didn’t I say she’d go feral?”

Azzi nods, still fanning herself. “Feral. Unhinged. That’s the look.”

I grin, tugging a strand playfully. “Thought I’d give the people drama.”

Paige’s jaw is on the floor.

“You—” she tries, stepping toward me, hands already reaching. “You look—Jesus, come here.”

And suddenly I’m in her arms, being spun once, twice, her lips pressed to my jaw, her breath hot in my ear.

“I’m gonna have to fight someone tonight,” she murmurs. “You cannot look like this and expect me to act normal.”

I smirk. “Baby, you were never normal around me.”

She grins, eyes shining with that familiar softness—drunk off champagne and love and me, apparently.

“I’m so happy,” she murmurs, breath fluttering into my hair, voice breaking a little. “God, I’m so proud of you. You looked so beautiful tonight—like stupidly beautiful. And I kept thinking, that’s my girl, that’s my f—fuckin’ girl, and no one can say a thing ‘cause you’re magic, and you did it, and you stayed, and you always show up, and I just…”

Her breath stutters against my collarbone. I tighten my arms around her.

“I love you,” she says quietly, with that Paige kind of conviction that leaves no room for doubt. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Madsy,” I whisper back, barely holding the tears. “To the moon and beyond.”

She sniffles, hiding it with a laugh as she pulls Azzi into the hug too, her arms wrapping around the both of us.

“I don’t even know how I got so lucky,” she says, voice cracking again. “Y’all stayed. Through everything. You never let go. Thank you. I’m never gonna stop being thankful.”

We stay like that for a long moment, a little pile of love in the corner of the world, before Paige suddenly smirks and grabs for my hat.

“Trade with me,” she says.

So we switch—my Golden State Valkyrie SnapBack lands on her head, tilted to the side with cocky Paige energy, and her Dallas Wings cap ends up on mine, turned backward.

The perfect contrast: her softness, my fire.

Azzi cackles beside her. “She’s been speechless since you walked in. I’ve never seen Paige malfunction in real time.”

“One more word and I’m taking her to a dark corner,” Paige mutters under her breath, and I pretend not to hear the chaos in her voice.

One too many shots in, and a blur of tequila later, I’m in the middle of the dance circle, losing every last shred of chill to Get It Sexyy by Sexyy Red.

Paige’s Dallas Wings SnapBack is still turned backward on my head, and my mini dress? It’s making its case for fit of the night as I drop it low, knees bent, back arched, ass bouncing to every beat.

Slim thick, caramel skin, 5’5”, this bitch a ten (yeah)

Hair done, bills paid, catch me slidin’ in a Benz (vyoom)

The circle is hyping me up like it’s a damn arena. Azzi is losing her voice, Paige is grinning like she’s watching a miracle unfold, and Kk is literally fanning herself.

Lili is recording the entire moment on her little digital camera like it’s 2005. Somebody starts throwing dollar bills like we’re in Magic City.

And I am thriving.

I shake, drop, twerk to the floor—turn around and give them the look over my shoulder that makes Paige’s jaw damn near hit the ground.

Azzi hands me a shot, and I take it like a pro, licking the salt off her hand and winking at her before tossing it back.

Then Paige disappears.

A moment later, she’s at the DJ booth. I know that energy. I know what she’s asking for.

Then the beat drops.

Practice by Drake.

I spin, eyes wild. Paige’s doing this on purpose. She knows what that song does to me.

I grind into the beat like the track was written for my hips, my body pulsing with the rhythm. I see Paige watching—biting her lip, shirt halfway undone now—and Azzi? She’s behind her, laughing, whispering something in her ear that makes Paige tilt her head back.

And then—

Paige walks over, holding a shot.

She grins. “You’re not drinking this unless it’s from my mouth.”

Gasps. Cheers. Screams. The whole party goes feral.

I raise an eyebrow. “Only if you do one with Z. And then Z does one with me.”

The circle erupts.

Challenge accepted.

Paige pours the tequila into her mouth, steps up to me, and kisses me—slow, hot, deep—letting the shot flow into mine. I swallow, lips lingering on hers, breath caught in my throat.

Next, Paige does it again, but with Azzi this time. Azzi giggles into it, a little shaky, a little buzzed, her fingers curling into Paige’s shirt as the liquor passes between them.

And then Azzi turns to me, eyeing me up and down as she takes a shot glass from Paige.

Her hands are on my hips as she leans in. She pours the shot in her own mouth, and next thing we’re mouth to mouth. The tequila burns but her kiss softens it.

When we pull apart, we glance toward the circle—

Paige is standing there in absolute shock, jaw slack, blinking like she just witnessed her first lesbian porn in real life.

Ayanna and Aubrey are fanning themselves, literally fanning, shouting over each other:

“WOW—”

“Did that really just happen?!”

“Play that back—I need an instant replay.”

I throw my head back laughing as Paige runs both hands over her face like she needs divine intervention.

“Jesus,” she mutters, “I am so going to hell.”

Before anyone can make it worse, Azzi claps once. “Alright, lovebirds. Time to slide.”

“To where?” I ask, breathless from laughing.

Paige grabs my hand. “Upstairs. We reserved the rooftop. And there’s a jacuzzi with our names on it.”

Azzi hooks her arm around mine on the other side. “And there’s dessert. And more tequila. And vibes.”

We make our way to the elevator as a trio, laughter trailing behind us like confetti, Paige still occasionally glancing at me with that same stunned look.

Right before the doors close, she nudges me softly and whispers, “I wasn’t kidding about the corner thing.”

I smirk. Raising my eyebrow. “Mm really.”

Azzi sighs. “I swear, if y’all start making out in the pool again, I’m bringing a Super Soaker.”

“Do it,” I tease. “We’ll only make it worse.”

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

                 -Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

                             -prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

[ineffabildaddy]

i think it might be lost on some good omens fans who've either never been in a fandom before, or have only been in very big fandoms for that matter, how truly lucky we are.

we have new fan content to see at any time of day or night, no matter what else is going on in the world. there is a constant, and i do mean constant stream of new art, new fics, new meta, new gifs, new shitposts, new discussions, new video edits, new links to other websites where those things also exist... one could scroll through good omens tumblr all day, every day, and they wouldn't run out of new things to look at, due to the rate at which things are being produced, and the number of people who are producing them (i say this as someone who basically did this while recovering from top surgery back in 2023, when season 2 had not long come out). it would take a person an awfully long time to see all the good omens fan content there is to see, and that's just on this one platform.

most fandoms, for active media or not, cannot relate to this phenomenon. it's crazy, in the most wonderful way. i think we are this way bc we truly do have great source material, shot and performed by brilliant people, and therefore it is the kind of source material that attracts passionate, analytical obsessives (this is a compliment to all of us, not an insult!).

there'll come a time after s3 when things will slow down, i know that. so i want us to all appreciate how much we have now. at least once a day i stop and think about how grateful i am that this fandom became part of my life, and i hope you have that inclination too, at least once in a while.<3

but this doesn't happen by magic. you need to reblog, not just like; comment, not just leave kudos; share and rec, not just enjoy independently. with fandom, you get what you put into it, and the more you get involved the more fulfilment you'll get out of it. trust me on that<3