#they make me so fuckin depressed i HATE them

[electricabsolution]

im so obsessed with how similar Thorin and Boromir are despite being in two completely different stories. their whole arcs are SO similar, from beginning to end. especially the end.

the whole prince of a failing kingdom vibe … makes them both pretty grim even if they don’t always act that way. Boromir isnt going to be king exactly, but the fact that his father is (just) the steward puts him in the same sort of listless position that Thorin is in to me. there’s uncertainty. (and, in that, loss of hope.)

Thorin gets obsessed with the arkenstone, similar to how Boromir becomes swayed by the ring. they’re the two main characters who become “““bad guys”””.

however. ignoring all of that, it’s the nature of their death scenes thats really striking, in the sense that they’re both purposefully short. empty.

im talking about the book versions here, by the way. they do die heroically in battle! and we root for them! but Tolkien does not let us watch at all.

in the Hobbit, the narrative follows Bilbo during the battle, where he meets an already dying Thorin. same in TTT, it follows Aragorn to find Boromir already riddled with arrows. we aren’t privy to the fights themselves.

the movies show the epic battles, of course they do! its gripping and emotional. but Tolkien is writing about war, from personal experience. he’s telling the readers that we shouldn’t want to read about something that horrific. so he doesn’t allow it to be entertainment.

how many enemies they killed in battle, or what sick fighting moves they made were not deemed important enough for Tolkien to write about. what was important, though, were the connections they made with other people before they died. that although their burdens were too much, and they made mistakes along the way, they still have friends there to remind them that there is still hope for a better future. even if it’s difficult to see.

[hellhoundlair]

venting sorry. i get emotional thinking of the media both me and my dad loved growing up and the father daughter bonds that were the highlights of those movies and tv shows to him and i feel like i failed

[fragglerockopinions]

I'm in so much pain it's embarrassing. I'm going to look back on these memories of me writhing alone too afraid to sleep biting my knuckles crying about nothing and laugh.

[thespacedragons]

Trying to let myself feel my emotions but also not stew in them but also not delude myself into thinking I'm completely fine. I mean it's working I think but why does the process have to be so goddamn Long? And of course every recession feels like a failure even though I Know healing isn't linear and I just have to push through anyways. Fuckin sucks, but at least I know it's possible to be better.

[satorusugurugurl]

My Wedding Date is an Escort!

Summary: When invited to your best friend's wedding, you panic. One of the groomsmen, Toji Fushiguro, is your ex-fiancè. Not wanting to deal with probing questions and the embarrassment of being single, your friend Haibara recommends using an Escort! Taking a leap of faith, you book one, the hottest one. Gojo Satoru is hot, sweet, and funny! The package deal! Men and Women pay thousands to go on a date with him (even more, which he doesn't do often). So when your request comes in, the desperation and pleading tone of your voice. Gojo’s heartthrobs, even more so when you tell him you don't want to have sex.

Pairing: Escort!Gojo x FAB Reader

Word Count: 3,682

Warning: Mentions of depression, anxiety, language

A/N: And so part one is complete!! Please let me know what you think! I plan on posting a new part every Saturday! In the mean time I will work on my brain worm fics/requests!!

Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight

Gold calligraphy mocked you as you stared at the wedding invitation on your table. Any normal person would have been elated over their best friend getting married. The dresses, cake, looking at venues! It should have been a happy, wonderful time.

And it would have been amazing if your best friend had met her fiance through anyone other than Toji Zenin. Your ex-fiance, the man who broke your heart, who was also the groomsman at the wedding! The same wedding you were a bridesmaid in.

Life fucking hated you.

Your break up was a year and a half ago. It was tucking painful, watching the life and future you had imagined slip away. You were inconsolable for the first few months, but any other person would feel the same if their fiance broke up with them the way Toji had done to you. Part of you liked to think you were getting better; you knew you weren't healed completely.

The closer the wedding came, the more nervous and sick you got. In a month, you would have to face Toji for the first time in over a year. He was doing much better off than you. He got married! He was now Toji Fushiguro and he and his wife had a son!

Fate was a cruel bitch. He was living his dreams: a house, a pretty wife, a sweet, beautiful son. Toji got everything he wanted while you sunk into the darkness of despair. Toji had ruined you, marked you in ways you weren't sure you'd ever heal from. You never wanted to be hurt like that again. That's why you were single.

Single and traumatized. Perfect intro on your dating profile. So yeah, dating wasn't your thing right now.

Which puts you in a messy fucking predicament. You would be at a wedding with your Ex, who was living the life you had always wanted. Why was he given happily ever after while you were left to pick up the pieces of your broken heart? You could already see the pitiful expressions that your loved ones would be wearing, and that made your skin crawl with anxiety.

You could not show up to the wedding alone.

Which is why you were sitting in your kitchen, drowning in anxiety. You stared at your laptop, bouncing your leg nervously as you scrolled on Escorts4y0u.com. Damn, Yu Haibara, for suggesting this to you. You were shopping for a fuckin’ escort!?

You shot his insane suggestion down as soon as he said it. You had begun ranting about how even more embarrassing it would be if your family found out. First, your fiance leaves you a month before your wedding. Then you go and pay for someone to pretend to be your boyfriend all because you couldn’t bear yourself to start dating again?

Amid your nervous rant, Haibara just put his hand on yours. He assured you that no one would know that they were an escort. If they were good at their job, all your family would see was a happy couple. They would be someone to go to the wedding with, and once you paid them, you would never see them again! No one would be the wiser.

“It's their job to make you feel good and help you have a good time. And you deserve to be happy.” Haibara had said with pity in his eyes. Just thinking about his face, that expression, made you cringe to think of the faces of everyone at the wedding.

“Fuck it.” You cursed, clicking on the escort you liked the most.

Gojo Satoru, twenty-eight years old. His profile listed that he was well-educated and came from a prestigious clan. He was charismatic, confident, and kind. You read dozens of reviews. His previous clients gushed over him. All five stars, every single person he’d helped was grateful for him. Plus, Gojo was very attractive. He had pure white hair, was over six feet tall, and had the most stunning blue eyes you'd ever seen. He was the ideal partner anyone would want to take home to meet the family.

Which would explain why he was the most expensive escort on the website.

“¥120,000 for a day!?” You screeched as you bounced your leg faster, doing the mental math in your head. “That’s ¥900,000.00 for a week.” The mere amount of money you were about to spend almost had you slamming your laptop shut. But Haibara’s face crossed your mind; Toji’s face began to form before you shook your head.

Hiring Gojo was your only option. You had to do this to avoid getting hurt again. Plus, you had to use the deposit from your honeymoon eventually. It would be like burying the past!

“Okay, okay, you got this; just book it Y/N!” Getting up, you jumped up and down to hype yourself up before you hit the green phone icon and dialed the number. The phone rang once and twice.

“This is Gojo!” A gruff but cheery voice answered.

You’re sure your soul left your body as you squealed in shock. He answered!? The man you were going not only to pay but also beg to pretend to be your boyfriend?!

“Hello?” A faint hint of humor and curiosity laced the voice in your ear.

You groaned, rubbing your hand down your face with a whine. “S-Sorry, I was expecting a receptionist for something.” You put the phone on speaker before hitting your head against your table.

“Oh! My bad, sorry!” His chuckle was a deep noise through the receiver. “We put our business numbers on the site. It’s just easier for us to schedule our clients like this.” He hummed. “I assume you’re on the escort website?”

“Yes, I—I was wondering if you might be free next month for a wedding? It’s my best friend.”

“Give me a sec.” Shuffling papers filled your anxiety. “A month from today?”

“Yes.”

Gojo hummed happily, “I am free that whole week! So will it be the wedding and reception?” A pen could be heard writing down notes.

”So it’s uhm, it’s a destination wedding. It’s in Kyoto, and I need you for the whole week. If that’s not an issue or problem.”

”Okay, that shouldn’t be an issue. It’s far enough out that I can block my schedule.” He whistled happily, jotting down more notes. “So the whole week, wedding, reception—“

For some odd reason, it sounded like he was hesitating or weighing his options, questioning if he wanted to even take you on as a client. The growing fear of rejection spreads like wildfire through your stomach. You never used to feel like this; you were so happy and confident before. But after everything Toji did, what he said to you after you had—well, it left some really deep scars that still hadn’t healed. When your mind picked at those still healing wounds, making them bleed, you acted before thinking.

”I have the money!” Gripping the table's edge, you stared at Gojo’s headshot on the website. “Please, I need this!”

“Hey, hey! I’m not worried about the money, sweetheart.” His voice was thick like honey; the pet name sounded so sweet. “I’m just making sure I got everything down.” On the other line, Gojo looked down at his calendar. There was something in your voice, desperation, that was genuine.

He’d had tons of clients, and many of them needed help. But in his two years of working in this field, he had never heard such a raw plea for help. Gojo’s interest peaked. Just who were you? What made you so anxious and desperate for his help?

”Let me confirm the details so I can put you in my books, Ms.?” He waited for your name, hearing you sigh in relief as you calmed yourself down

”Y/N, my name is Y/N Y/L/N.”

”Y/N,” Gojo repeated, “Okay, I have you down for next month, the whole week, for a destination wedding in Kyoto.”

You were sighing happily as you relaxed into your chair. “Thank you. It’s 900,000.00. For the whole week?” Gojo cocked an eyebrow, grinning at your straightforward attitude.

”Depends, will food and hotel be included?”

“Yes, we’ll be staying at my parents' inn; they offered to host my friend's wedding. So food, money, and accommodations will be included. Plus, I’ll take care of your travel expenses.”

Gojo turned in his desk chair, biting his lip as he listened to your stern voice. “Okay, so it’s going to be ¥600,000. A lot of the cost goes to food and hotels. Since you’re taking care of it, you get a lovely discount, sweetheart.” A scoff sounded from his phone, making him smile even wider.

”Great, lucky me.”

Gojo bit his lip, chuckling. “Did you want any other additions?”

“If you’re asking if I want to include your other services, no. I don’t need sex.”

“Don’t need sex?” He perked up as Suguru, his roommate, peeked in, cocking an eyebrow at him. “Seriously?”

You gave the phone a confused look as if you were looking at Gojo yourself. “Yes, I’m dead serious.” The line went utterly silent before rich, stunned laughter filled your kitchen.

”Well shit, that’s a first!”

”Glad I could keep you on your toes, Gojo.”

”Nope.”

You blinked. “No, what?” Gojo snickered as you picked up your phone heading into your room.

”I’m going to be your boyfriend. You have a month, one month, to get used to saying my first name.” The seriousness of his tone made you stop in your tracks. “So it’s Satoru to you, Y/N.”

With a blush dusting your cheeks, you giggled, shaking your head. “Alright, that makes sense. Thank you, Satoru.”

”You’re welcome, Y/N. I’ll see you in a month.”

In one month, you were ¥600,000 poorer, and your nerves were shot as you searched for your fake boyfriend at the train station coffee shop. In the last month, you had spoken to Goj—Satoru twice over the. Once to book his services and yesterday to discuss where you were meeting. His company took care of everything else.

It was still surreal that you hired an escort to be your date, and you were waiting for a stranger at a coffee shop. This wasn't like you; it was so unbelievable. You sipped your coffee, looking around anxiously.

It was like a Greek God walked in. He was tall, like his profile said, over six-three. Dark sunglasses covered his eyes as his white fluffy hair bounced with every step. Straightening, you hesitated before lifting your hand and waving at your fake boyfriend. Seeing your arm raised, Gojo grinned, bounding forward as he pulled his sunglasses off.

“Hi! Are you Y/N?” You stood, swallowing as he still towered over you. God, he was dressed nice, all designer brand clothes. Which wasn't surprising with the amount of money you dropped to spend a week with him.

“Yes, I'm Y/L/N Y/N.” You handed him a cup of coffee that he took before sitting at the table. “Thank you again for doing this.”

Gojo grabbed six sugar packets, ripped them open, and poured all of them into his coffee. “Oh, you're welcome! I love seeing people happy.” Your eyes followed his hands as he poured cream into the coffee. “So, what's our story? That way, we're on the same page.” You couldn't help but smile as he sipped the sugary coffee with a grin.

“You have a sweet tooth?” Gojo hummed, taking another drink. “Maybe I'll make you something at the inn; I'm a pastry chef.” Gojo’s eyes went wide as you ran your fingers over the lid of your cup. “That’s a good story, we met at the bakery I wor—”

“You're a pastry chef?!” Gojo’s eyes sparkled. “Seriously?! What shop?!”

“Uhm, I work at Ichigo Cafe? It's in downtown Tokyo.”

“I love that place! The mochi there is the best!” His words had your cheeks burning your cheeks. “The cakes, the ice cream! Hell, the coffee is good too.”

You twirl your thumbs together. “Thank you, as the head chef, that makes me happy.” Satoru sat back, smiling sweetly. “So I uhm, yeah, that's a good story.”

“Yeah, it does. How long have we been together?”

The two of you settled on five months. That way, it was still pretty new. The whole time, Satoru nodded and added to your cover story. Thank god he was easy to talk to, putting your nerves at ear by the time your coffee was finished. Together, you were optimistic that you and Satoru could get through this week without a hiccup.

You both settled in on the train, getting to know each other more like favorite colors, foods, likes, and dislikes. Satoru didn't drink, had a major sweet tooth, and did his escorting gig full-time. He lived with his roommate and best friend, Geto Suguru, and he had a lot of free time.

You told him everything about yourself: likes, dislikes, favorite color, hell, even your blood type. But as the conversation began to dwindle, Satoru tilted his head. Sure, all that stuff was good now for the coming week, but he wanted to know more. Like why you hired him and why you ‘don’t do sex.’ That question had plagued his mind for the last month.

“Can I ask why you hired me?” His question had your head snapping up. “I mean, don't take this the wrong way, but you've been tense since we got on the train. There's more to this than just wanting a date to a wedding.”

“Uhh, is that obvious? I'm sorry. It's just my ex-fiance is at the wedding party with me.” Satoru paid close attention to how your eyes darkened as you looked out the window. “Our breakup was a shock since it happened a month before our wedding. So, I have all these trust issues, and I don't want to date anyone. Because it's easier not to get hurt if you don't put yourself out there.”

“Why did he break up with you?”

“Why didn't he?” The tone of your voice and words had Satoru peeking up. Not in curiosity but surprisingly in anger. Satoru had seen a lot of women and men in his days as an escort. Many are desperate, lonely, and want to have a good time. But whoever had broken your heart had hurt. You in more ways than one. “There were a lot of things that he uhm—listed off.”

You quickly changed the subject, much too fast for Satoru’s liking. But he wasn’t the type to pry, especially when it came to the feelings and comfort of his clients. So he let you change the subject. And the rest of the train ride to Kyoto, even up to your family's inn, the subject stayed clear of your ex. It was bad enough you’d be seeing him soon; you would much rather not talk about him before you saw his face.

You stood in front of the door to your family's inn. Satoru grabbed your hand, his fingers interlacing with yours as you took a deep breath. “Hey, we got this.” God, you hoped Satoru was right; this had to go perfectly.

Giving his hand a gentle squeeze, you stepped inside. The laughter and distant conversations echoed off the halls as wedding guests conversed and chatted while wandering around. You spotted your mother carrying a tray. She took one glance at you before looking away.

”Oh, Y/N darling, good you’re here. Whenever you get a chance, could you help me make some treats for afternoon tea? Everyone is instant with trying those matcha cookies you made last year.” After years of helping out, in the end, your body began to move on muscle memory, but Satoru stopped you, pulling you into his side with a grin.

“Hey, don’t just up and leave me. At least introduce me to your family first, sweetheart.” The bustling, noisy chatter around you stopped as your family and friends just seemed to notice the giant man standing beside you. His arm wrapped around your waist as he leaned down to kiss your temple. “My poor sweet girl is already in work mode. I thought this was supposed to be a vacation.”

”Right, of course, I’m sorry, Satoru. Everyone, this is my boyfriend, Gojo Satoru.”

”Eh!?”

Those sad, pitful reactions you had been so familiar with over the last year and a half were nowhere to be found on the faces of your loved ones. They were faces of shock, curiosity, and joy. A much better reaction, one that had you letting out a shaky breath you had no idea you were holding in. As you basked in relief, dark eyes watched the two of you, reading you.

The afternoon went off without a hitch. Satoru fit in with any conversation thrown his way. From what he did for a living to how the two of you met, he never stuttered or looked to you for help. He was exactly what you needed. With Gojo by your side, you knew you could get through this wedding without losing yourself in the darkness again.

You owed Haibara big time for this.

After the two of you answered several rounds of twenty questions and an early dinner, you and Satoru stepped into your room. You shut the door, sliding back against it as you shut your eyes. “Oh my gosh, that went much better than anticipated.” Satoru chuckled, setting both of your luggage off in the corner of the room.

“You did great.” His praise had you smiling more. “Seriously, this will be a walk in the park!”

You wanted to agree with him, but your mouth remained shut. That was just your family you met with. Things might be a different story when you face Toji. Because despite you not wanting him to, you knew he could read you like a book. He always could tell when you weren’t feeling the best or something was wrong. But maybe, if you keep playing your card right, you might be able to fool him, too.

”Yeah, a walk in the park.” You looked around the room, relieved to find the futon already laid out for you both. But it was missing the extra pillows you had asked for. The pillows that were going to be used to separate you and Satoru. “Huh, I thought my dad said the pillows would be here when we got to the room. I’ll be right back; the shower is just to the right if you want to wash up first.”

“Awesome, thanks a lot.”

As you reached for the door, the handle turned, startling you. Satoru moved so fast, his arms wrapping around you as the door opened wide. “Have you ever heard of knocking before? My girlfriend and I could have been doing something. If you saw that, I would have had to charge you for the show.” Satoru started as the door opened wide, revealing the person standing in front of it, four pillows in his arms.

”You seriously think I believe that?”

Your body went rigid as you stared into the dark eyes of the man who broke your heart. “T-Toji? What are you doing here?” You learned further back into Satoru’s chest, trying to put distance between the man that had stained your life.

“Bringing you your pillows.” He motioned his chin down at them to emphasize his words. “Look, we need to talk.”

Satoru could feel your breath quicken, your chest moving faster with each inhale you took. From your reaction, he could figure out just who exactly this asshole was. This dark-haired asshole who just barged into your room had to be the ex you didn’t want to talk about in any way, shape, or form. Looking at him, Satoru came to one conclusion without even knowing the guy. He was a fucking prick.

”Look, Toji, I’m exhausted. I don't want to talk right now.” You snatched the pillows away from him. “Satoru and I were going to get ready for bed. I require some TLC tonight.” You went to shut the door, but Toji placed his palm against it, preventing it from moving.

”Please, you and I both know this isn’t your boyfriend. I need to talk to you now. Tell your friend here he can fucking wait until our conversation is over.”

The tone and mere attitude of the prick in the door had Satoru seeing red. He released you, turning you to face him, glaring daggers at the man spewing toxic commands. “I’m not a friend.” Satoru spit out the last word. In a flash, his hand gripped your chin, turning you towards him. His other hand rested on the back of your head, pulling you into a kiss.

It was your first kiss in a year and a half, a kiss that was full of rage and passion like you had never experienced before. Satoru’s kiss was for show, but fuck, it had your knees buckling. You matched his pace, kissing him back urgently. His hands tangled in your hair while you fisted his shirt. You prayed that this mini-makeout session was enough to fool your ex. Satoru pulled away to glare at Toji. His chest rose and fell as he slowly licked his bottom lip with a smirk.

“My girlfriend and I were just getting ready to bed, if you caught the drift. If she wants to talk to you tomorrow, she’ll find you. Later.” Without another word, Satoru slammed the door in Toji’s face before turning to face you.

”Wow.” Was all you could manage to say as you ran your fingers over your lips. Seeing you do that while hearing your breathless voice had Satoru fifty shades of red. In his whole career as an escort, he has never lost his cool like that until he was with you.

Oh, he was fucked.

(TBC)

[httpsserene]

𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐚𝐥 - 𝐥𝐬. 𝟏𝟖 | 𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫 𝟒𝟎𝟒: 𝐏𝐍𝐅 |

𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫 𝟒𝟎𝟒: 𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 - 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨

summary: if you love her, you have to let her go. who the hell came up with that? content warning: vacation romance. profanity. a couple of suggestive lines. one line of dark humor (toaster bath). fluff and angst. sibling dynamics (bullying). friendship. hard launch (but sad). emotional support esteban ocon (shrugs). heartbreak. this might count as getting together/breaking up. pairing: lance stroll x fem!black!reader

from serene: i feel like i have to reiterate that this does have a happy ending (in the next part). i think my tags are over dramatic asl but, i’m not trying to getting jumped in my inbox for miss tagging anything. also, i know lance isn’t a “popular driver” (whatever that fuckin means) but i’m in love with this smau, and i will not be accepting any judgement xxx

⌕ prev | join taglist | requests & feedback | table of contents | series toc | next ↻

instagram • ynplays • december 14th • cozy in a cabin ⚑

liked by valkyrae, yourbestie, segagenesisthedawg, and 43,879 others

ynplays: falling love with canada🇨🇦🍁🏒⛸️🌨️

tagged yourbestie, segagenesisthedawg, nhl

view comments

ynplays: sega cries after he walks us back to our room at night and leaves 😫

➥ user1: she’s just a liddol girl 🥹

➥ user2: the puppy has spoken u have to keep him i don’t make the rules 🤷🏿‍♀️

➥ user3: so...you have no choice but to run away with him into the sunset.

yoursister: booooo we get it you've been brainwashed by a canadian man 🙄🙄🙄

➥ ynplays: when was the last time you smiled today

➥ yoursister: it's difficult when ALL you do is yap about your crush on this hockey-core man 🤢

➥ ynplays: he gives himbo hockey player IM TELLNG YOU !!!

➥ user4: so he's canadian 😶

user5: his name starts with an L, he's approx 6'0, is brunette with brown eyes, and he's canadian with hockey player vibes👐🏻

➥ user6: i could walk two (2) steps outside of my house in ottawa and i'd run into a man who fits this description 😭😭

➥ user7: he sounds like every other bitch???

➥ user8: let's go through every minor and major hockey league roster again

➥ yourfriend1: "again?" who TF has time for that

user9: tagging THE nhl is crazy 💀

➥ user8: i'm telling you he's a hockey player

➥ user10: idk man he doesn't look like a hockey build in either of these photos🤔

igstory • yoursister uploaded!

[caption1; me and sis] [caption2; fuck. i guess they're kinda cute together 😒]

yourfriend2: did you see them doing snow angels together 🥺🥺☹️ yourfriend2: that had me smiling ngl...they're adorable yoursister: yeah, i'm just happy there's no red flags she's ignoring, he seems like a genuine dude

user11: do you improve of this lance? 6'0, brown eyes, brunette, canadian hockey player 🙂 yoursister: uhh i fear for his life,,are u gonna put a hit on him or smth yoursister: also he is not a hockey player lol user11: oh🫣 yoursister: i'm pretty sure he's like a car engineer or smth? i think i heard him say that

twitter • december 16th

instagram • ynplays • december 16th • sanctuary ⚑

liked by nhl, yoursister, yourbestie, yourmom, and 42,313 others

ynplays: i don't want to leave.

view comments

nhl: not me crying 😩 - admin

➥ user12: huh

➥ user13: nhl admin relatable

yourbestie: aw babe. enjoy your last five days here :)

➥ ynplays: i only have five days left 😟

➥ yourfriend1: oh girlie...it'll be alright

➥ yourfriend2: i always hate this part of the vacation

yoursister: please ask lance if he's willing to take you off my hands. permanently preferably.

➥ ynplays: are you familiar with the term sympathy?

➥ yoursister: oh you're sad for real

➥ yoursister: 😕 therapy session in the hot tub now ladies

➥ user14: this is depressing me

user15: hey, you can just elope? i don't think you've added that to your toolbox yet

➥ ynplays: too sad to even consider it rn

➥ ynplays: nvm he invited me to his cabin later 👅✌🏽

➥ user15: use protection 🙂‍↔️

user16: i feel like this should have a sensitive content warning

➥ user17: my day is ruined

➥ user18: and my disappointment is immeasurable

➥ user19: THERES 104 DAYS OF SUMMER VACATION🗣️🔊

➥ user20: read the room man @/user19

twitter • ynplays • december 21st

instagram • lancestroll • december 24th

liked by estebanocon, chloestroll, astonmartinf1, and 2,109,764 others

lancestroll: winter break has never felt so short. i missed you the second you stepped away from me. happy holidays, baby.

tagged ynplays

view comments

estebanocon: it’ll get better eventually mate ❤️‍🩹 believe it or not

➥ lancestroll: finding it hard to believe rn

chloestroll: come have some hot cocoa with me

➥ lancestroll: yn liked hot cocoa

➥ scottyjames31: oh mate…

➥ user21: okay, i'm concerned for my health. there's some sort of clear liquid leaking from my eyes

➥ user22: FUCK man this is sad 😕

astonmartinf1: chin up lance - admin

➥ alpinef1team: feeling for you mate - admin

➥ mercedesamgf1: sad it ended up like this for you lance - admin

➥ user23: the f1 teams are assembling like the avengers in infinity war for this

➥ user24: an unforgettable day in f1 history

yourmom: fix this. liked by lancestroll

➥ user25: w mama 🤩

➥ user26: tell him ma'am ‼️‼️

yourbestie: thank you for being good to her when you had her

➥ lancestroll: don't thank me for that.

➥ user27: cooking up my toaster bath actually

user30: well this is not the hard launch i wanted to confirm our theory.

➥ user31: brb about to create them in the sims and make them get married and have 6 children, sega, two cats and let them get old together

➥ user: realest cure for heartbreak

user28: no way they decided not being together at all is worse than being long distance

➥ yoursister: that's what i sad but nobody listens to me

➥ user28: why'd they do it???

➥ yoursister: my sister can be incredibly stupid about returned feelings. and for some reason she chose now to "protect her heart"

➥ user29: she deserves her happy ending and needs to allow herself to have it 😭😭😭

twitter • ynplays • december 25th

imessage • lance -> yn

© httpsserene 2024

[pedrospatch]

lean on me

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

series masterlist

summary: It's been three months since you and Joel left your baby daughter with Bill and Frank in Lincoln; you aren't coping well and Joel tries to help you get through it.

pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. BOSTON QZ ERA ((TW)) though it is not explicitly stated, it is implied reader is suffering from postpartum depression. mentions of being unable to breastfeed. angst, hurt, comfort, tiniest hint of fluff at the end.

word count: 3.7k

a/n: this was only meant to be a short drabble, but it ended up getting longer than i anticipated. sorry for more angst.

September, 2020

Joel had known things would get bad.

But he hadn’t expected for them to get this fucking bad.

He glanced across the table at Tess, quietly asking, “She eat today?”

Tess let out a small sigh, shaking her head. “Nope.” She picked up her chipped, ceramic mug and took a sip of crappy, two decades old dark roast coffee and stated, “She didn’t eat anything yesterday, either. Or the day before that or the one before that. I can barely get her to take a fucking sip of water these days.”

“Fuckin’ hell, Tess! We can’t just sit around watchin’ her starve herself,” he hissed at her, his hands curling into fists on the table. 

She shot him an irritated look. “You think I don’t know that already?”

“Tess—”

“What are we going to do, Joel? Pin her down and force feed her?”

Joel’s jaw clenched, his lips pressing together in a tight, thin line. He glanced over at you with a heavy, sinking feeling inside of his chest at the mere sight of your current state. 

You were sitting on the bed in the same pair of gray sweatpants you’d been wearing for the last couple of days, your knees pulled up to your chest as you stared blankly, vacantly, out of the window beside you at absolutely nothing. You were beginning to appear frail—the current tone of your skin was so dull, so washed out that anybody who took one glance at you would probably think that you had spent your entire life locked away in some basement, never having seen the fucking sunshine before. The pallor of your skin was only emphasized by the dark, bruise-like circles underneath your eyes, courtesy of the long and sleepless nights you’d been having, especially lately. 

You had fallen deep into a sadness, a darkness—one so deep that you had become nothing but a mere shadow of your former self. You were an empty shell of a human being and it was starting to scare the fucking shit out of Joel. 

“Maybe if we took her to see the baby?” Tess suggested, quietly. She took another sip of her coffee and then set her mug down. “Frank has been wondering why you two haven’t been over there to see her. Hell, even Bill is curious why I’ve been going over there alone.” After having done some digging around, Tess managed to find someone in the QZ who had helped her get her hands on homemade infant formula; it was worth gold and only ever went to officials of a higher ranking who could actually afford it. Somehow, she’d pulled a few strings and the next thing Joel knew, Tess was loading a pack full of cans to take over to Lincoln. She’d made a couple more trips since then, and each time, she had gone alone. “It’s been over three months, Joel. Maybe it’s finally time—maybe it would help her.”

“In her condition?” Joel shook his head, adamantly. “No. For one, she wouldn’t fuckin’ make it a mile down the road before collapsing—from exhaustion, from starvation, you name it. And even if she could make the trip somehow, the truth is, she’s not ready to see her.” He lowered his voice to keep you from overhearing him, although at this point, he was certain that you were too zoned out to even pay attention. Every word was probably going in through one ear and out the other. “I hate to say it, but she’s just not strong enough to see her yet, Tess.”

“And what about you, Texas? What’s your excuse?”

He glared at her. “You really think I can leave her here alone in a state like this while we go skippin’ off to Lincoln together?”

“Good point.” Tess paused and peered curiously at him. “You haven’t even told her what they named her, have you?”

“Don’t think that’s such a good idea right now, either.” Joel held back a heavy sigh as he looked down into his own mug of shitty coffee. A huge part of him wished that she hadn’t told him what Bill and Frank ended up naming the baby. Since then, his daughter’s name echoed in the back of his mind, over and over again, damn near constantly.

“Joel, if we don’t do something, she’s going to wind up—” Tess could see his jaw clench again and she stopped herself, choosing her words more carefully. “She’s walking on thin ice. She’s not eating, she’s not sleeping. She’s already been in lockup twice this week alone because she can’t even keep up with work detail anymore. I know this is hard for you to hear, but if something doesn’t change soon, things are only going to get worse from here—she’ll get worse. You’re the only one of the two of us who actually has a chance of getting through to her and you need to fucking do something.”

“Tess, I’ve tried—”

“Well fucking try harder, Joel. If you don’t, you’ll fucking lose her. You know that, right?”

“I know.” Joel rubbed his face tiredly with both of his hands. He knew it was nothing but the truth that she was speaking, but goddamn the truth fell onto his shoulders heavy, almost too heavy. It felt as though he were carrying the weight of the entire fucking planet. But she was right. If something wasn’t done, he was going to lose you. “Tess, you mind if I have a minute alone with her?”

She nodded and took one last gulp of coffee before standing up from the table. “Yeah. I have to go see Robert and a couple of his buffoons about something anyway.” As she walked past him towards the door, she stopped and tossed him a pointed look. “Maybe today is the day that you finally decide to give her that thing that you’ve been carrying around in your pocket,” she suggested. “We went through a lot of shit for it, Joel. It’s the reason we have been drinking crappier coffee than usual for the last two weeks.”

He nodded, watching her as she grabbed her jacket and left.

After a minute or two, Joel finally pushed himself away from the table and rose to his feet. He made his way over to you, and he wasn’t even the slightest bit surprised at how you didn’t turn to acknowledge him despite the sound of his heavy boots on the creaking hardwood floor. He said your name as he came closer to you, but you remained as still as a stone statue, your eyes still fixed outside of the window.

“Alright,” he said, standing next to you at the side of the bed, both of his hands placed firmly on his hips. “Enough is fuckin’ enough. I can’t and I won’t let you keep carryin’ on like this. Either you get up and get your ass over to that table and eat somethin’ or I’m going to pick you up off of this bed, take you over there, and feed you myself. And don’t think I won’t. I’ll tie you down to the chair if that’s what I’ve gotta do.”

Finally, you turned to look at him. You spoke, your voice sounding just as fragile as you looked. “I’m not hungry.”

Joel’s expression immediately softened.

Fuck. 

He couldn’t be tough on you, not in the state you were in—he thought being hard on you would be the way to get through to you, but he just didn’t have it in him to be stern with you, not when you were like this.

“Baby. Please.” He knelt down beside you, reaching for your hand. He winced at how frigid your hand felt in his palm, as if he were holding a block of ice. He brought his other hand up and placed it on top, doing his best to warm it up with both of his. “Look, I get it. I know that you miss her. I know that you’re hurtin’ over her. You might not think I get it, but I do.” He paused, feeling sick to his stomach upon noticing the lifelessness in your eyes. He almost wished that he could see you cry, because at least he would know for certain that you were still in there somewhere—but Joel hadn’t seen you shed a single tear since you’d broken down sobbing in his arms that night in Lincoln. “You just can’t keep goin’ on like this. You don’t eat, you’ve barely slept in weeks. You keep fallin’ behind with all your work assignments and you’ve landed yourself in lockup more times than I can fuckin’ count because of it.”

You simply shrugged, as if you couldn’t give two shits about any of it.

Joel managed to bite back his sigh of frustration. He knew that losing his temper would do nothing more than sink you further into the hole you were currently in. But he was angry. He was just so fucking angry about about everything. Here you were, just slipping right through his fucking fingers, slowly fading away right before his own two eyes and he didn’t know what to do to stop it from happening. He felt lost. He felt hopeless—useless. 

He squeezed your hand out of desperation. He would fucking plead if he had to. “I need you to fuckin’ snap out of it. Please,” he begged, as he continued holding your hand tightly, holding onto it as if he were holding onto dear life itself. “Please, for the love of fuckin’ god, I need you to just snap out of it. If not for yourself, fuckin’ do it for me—do it for her.”

“Snap out of it?” You repeated. “You want me to just snap out of it?”

“Baby, please just listen to me for one goddamn second—”

You snatched your hand out of both of his. “I can’t just fucking snap out of it, Joel!” You nearly shouted at him, speaking the loudest he’d heard you speak in several weeks. “Alright? I can’t snap out of it! My heart is shattered into pieces, don’t you fucking understand that?”

“‘Course I do. Givin’ her up was hard for me too,” he reminded you quietly, resisting the urge to match your tone. 

“And I don’t deny that,” You prefaced yourself. “I know it was hard on you too, Joel. But you’re not the one who came this close, this damn fucking close to aborting her.” You held up your index finger and your thumb close together. You’d started trembling as everything seemed to catch up to you all at once—sleep deprivation, malnourishment and of course, the emotions you had been bottling up inside of you for the last three months. “You’re not the one who carried her inside of your womb for almost nine months, who felt every one of her flutters and her kicks. You’re not the one who had to go through the excruciating pain of giving birth to her in this crumbling apartment, only to have to place her in someone else’s arms and leave her behind three days later. You’re not the one who had to deal with the aftermath, Joel. Do you know how much it fucking hurt not to be able to feed her? How much it fucking sucked to have to wait for your milk supply to dry up because you no longer had a baby to feed?”

For the first time in a long time, Joel was left speechless. 

He didn’t know what to say. Hell, there was nothing he could say.

Because you were absolutely fucking right.

None of what you’d just said to him was a lie. Of course he knew that giving the baby up had been a hundred times harder on you than it’d been on him—mentally, emotionally, and even physically. He thought back to the nights when he would see you sitting there with your own arms wrapped around your chest, knowing you were aching, knowing that although you said nothing about it, you were in unbearable pain from being unable to breastfeed. 

And what could he do about it?

Not a goddamn fucking thing.

Still, Joel had tried. He always made the attempt to comfort you, only to be shot down time and time again. He’d been so used to being the one who rejected any kind of support that, when the tables had been turned on him, he hadn’t known how to handle it. Joel could feel the guilt slowly creeping in as he wondered if perhaps he just hadn’t tried hard enough for you. He was your partner—it was his duty to take care of you, to look out for you, to protect you, and yet here he was, failing to do any of that. 

He could have done more. 

He should have done more.

Especially after all the friction he’d caused from the beginning of your pregnancy. From letting you go to those crooked motherfuckers for a procedure that could have cost you your life, down to the way he had treated you the night you’d brought up Sarah, it seemed as though all Joel had been doing was fucking up, time after time. 

Seeing the expression on Joel’s face, you immediately knew what he must have been thinking. Your eyes widened and you quickly uttered a nearly breathless apology. “Joel, I’m so fucking sorry—”

He stopped you, tightly shaking his head. “No, don’t be. It’s true, it’s all fuckin’ true.”

Finally, after three months of bone-dry eyes, a warm tear slipped out, falling down the side of your face. Your entire body shuddered as the flood gates opened and more followed in suit, each one falling faster, harder than the last. The next thing you knew, Joel had pulled himself up onto the mattress beside you, pulling you into his arms just as you had started sobbing. With one hand, he delicately cradled the back of your head as you cried and cried into his shoulder. The other rubbed a soothing circle into your back over and over again. 

And just like that night in Lincoln, Joel just held you, waiting patiently as you finally allowed yourself to release each and every single one of your emotions out into the open. He didn’t say a word to you, nor did he attempt to stop the tears—he just held you close, merely using his touch to silently let you know that he would wait as long as he had to until you were finished.

“Joel,” You sniffed his name, your hands clutching fistfuls of his shirt.

“I’m right here, baby,” he assured you, holding you even closer against him, as close as humanly possible. His heartbeat was right in your ear and you closed your eyes, listening to it and letting it calm you. “I told you I wasn’t gonna let you carry this pain alone, darlin’. You remember that?”

You nodded against his chest, whispering, “I remember.”

“Well then, you’ve gotta let me help you,” Joel said into your hair. “For three months, I’ve been tryin’ but you just keep pushin’ me away. It doesn’t work like that. I need you to lean on me. I need for you to let me back in and help you because the road you’re headin’ down right now is a dangerous one.” 

Opening your eyes, you pulled away from him slightly, just far enough to meet his worried gaze. You could see the absolute fucking hell that you had been putting him through and felt your heart clench painfully inside of your chest. “I know I can’t keep going on like this, Joel,” You admitted softly to him. “Believe me, I know that. I tried so hard to get a fucking grip. There have been so many days where I think to myself, today is the day that I’m going to get my shit together. But then I just think of her sweet and innocent little face and I just fall apart all over again.” You muffled another sob with the palm of your hand.

“Oh, baby.” He gave your body a gentle, but firm squeeze. If he could take your pain away, all of it, and carry it along with his own, he would do it in a fucking heartbeat. 

You swallowed harshly. “I know she is far better off where she is, Joel, I know that she is. I never want her falling into the hands of FEDRA. It kills me to think of her being here in this shitty fucking place, going to their shitty fucking school.” Your voice broke at the mere thought of it all. “We know what would happen, Joel. As soon as she comes of age and meets their requirement, they will put her through their recruiting program. After her training, they either deem her worthy of becoming a fucking ruthless officer or they will give her the shittiest civilian jobs making her work for scraps of nothing, the same way they do to us.”

Joel sighed, rubbing your back again. “I know, baby. I know. It’s why we did what we did. We did what we had to do to spare her from that shit.”

“But then there’s this selfish part of me that wants her back so badly, so fucking badly that it makes me fucking ache,” You confessed, guilt lacing your tone of voice. “I just want the hurt to stop. I want to be at peace with the decision that we made, but the way I miss her, it feels almost impossible. I feel like I’ll never be able to accept that this is the way things have to be.”

“You have to accept it—we have to accept it. We ain’t got a choice,” Joel spoke the truth to you as gently as he could, though he knew it wouldn’t make a difference.

“I know,” You whispered, your eyes glazing over with fresh tears.

He stared at you for a moment and then pressed his lips against your forehead. Deciding it was time to show you what he’d been keeping a secret from you, Joel reached into the pocket of his jeans, pulling out a small, crumpled up wad of brown tissue paper. With one of his arms still around you, he used both of his hands to unwrap the tissue paper only to reveal a delicate silver chain—a bit too old to be shiny, but still in good shape nonetheless. Joel picked it up and tossed the tissue off to the side. He held it up in front of you to give you a better look at it. 

A single white pearl hung from the chain. 

“Joel, where did you get this?” You gasped lightly, taking it from him with trembling fingers. You didn’t even want to know what the hell he must have had to do or trade for it. Sure, jewelry was one of the most useless items that anyone could possess in this world because it no longer had any monetary value, but if someone wanted something bad enough and another person had it, then advantage was going to be taken somewhere, somehow. 

“Don’t you worry ‘bout that, darlin’.”

You glanced up at him, an incredulous look in your eyes. “Joel.”

He almost chuckled, knowing you wouldn't let him off that easy. “I’d mentioned to Tess that I wanted to get you somethin’ special to carry around with you, somethin’ that would remind you of her. Tess said a pearl was the birthstone for June, and so I asked her to help me find one a few weeks ago. She found some guy and I cut a deal for it. But that’s all I’m tellin’ you.”

Joel took the necklace from you and beckoned for you to turn around for him. Moving your hair aside, he reached around you and clasped it at the back of your neck. “I’d rather only you wear it when you’re here in the apartment. Once you go outside, it stays hidden in your pocket so no one sees it, alright?”

You turned back around to face him. “I don’t even know what to say. I can’t believe you did this for me, Joel.” You reached for his hands and held them tightly in your own as you shot him a sincere, grateful look. “Thank you.”

He leaned forward, lightly brushing his mouth against yours. “Baby?”

“Yes?” You murmured against his lips.

Joel squeezed your hands, hesitating for a moment before he said, “I know I’ve only ever said it to you once—that night. Outside of Bill and Frank’s place. But I need you to know that I love you. The truth is, I’ve been lovin’ you for a long time now. Never had it in me to admit it, not even to myself.” His eyes met yours in such a tender way that you felt a part of your broken heart begin to heal itself. It was just a small part, and you knew that unless you had your daughter back, it would never mend itself completely. Still, it was enough to give you a sense of hope. It was just enough to remind you that you would be able to find the strength in you to survive this pain. If you had any reason to keep going, it was right there it front of you. It was Joel. “I love you. I’m gonna do everythin’ that I can to help you through this. All you’ve gotta do is lean on me, alright?”

“I love you, Joel.” Though you’d said it to him once before, it still felt a bit foreign to say out loud.

It felt right, though. And it felt right hearing him say it to you. 

Reaching up, you lightly clasped the pearl in your hand. You leaned into Joel’s chest and felt him wrap his arms around you. 

“Y’know,” Joel said, breaking the momentary silence that had fallen over you, “Tess said Frank’s been wondering why we haven’t been over to see her yet. I know it might still be a bit too soon for you, but—” He let his sentence trail.

Though he didn’t say it out loud, you could hear it in his voice.

He wanted to see the baby.

“I’m not ready for that just yet,” You admitted. “I want to see her more than anything, but look at me. I’m a fucking mess.” You paused, clutching onto the pearl a little tighter. “Maybe we can try in a few weeks? What do you think?”

Joel kissed the top of your head. “Soon as you’re ready, say the word and we’ll go.”

[cherryrainn]

HI! CAN I GET A PLATONIC ANGELDUST X READER??

SOO LIKE THE READER IS THIS GLOOMY PIECE OF SHIT AND ANGEL HATES THAT SO HE TRIES TO MAKE THEM FEEL BETTER?? THAMK YOU!!!

GLOOMY .

; pairing ; angel dust + reader (platonic)

; note ; he's so sweet i love my boy

; warnings ; references to depression, despair, and feeling hopeless

you were laying in bed, surrounded by the suffocating darkness of your room in the hotel. groans escaped your lips as you felt the weight of your own gloom pressing down on you like a suffocating blanket. each day seemed to blend into the next, a monotonous cycle of despair and decay.

angel dust couldn't stand seeing you like this. your gloominess grated against himself like nails on a chalkboard. he strutted into your room, uninvited as always, his heels clicking against the floor with an air of exaggerated confidence.

"what the hell is up with you?" angel exclaimed, his cerise-pink eyes scanning the dimly lit room. "you're practically oozing gloom, and it's giving me a fuckin' headache!"

you turned to face him, your expression a mix of annoyance and resignation. "sorry, angel. it's just… i don't know. everything feels pointless."

angel rolled his eyes dramatically, flopping down on the edge of your bed with a dramatic sigh. "pointless? honey, you're in hell! everything's fuckin' pointless here, but that doesn't mean you have to mope around like a damn zombie."

you couldn't help but crack a small smile at his theatrics.

"come on, toots," he continued, his voice softer now, laced with genuine concern. "let's get you out of this funk. how about we go grab some drinks downstairs where husk is? i'll even let you pick the cocktails."

you hesitated for a moment, glancing away from angel dust's hopeful gaze. "no, i'm not really in the mood for that. i appreciate the offer, though," you replied, your voice carrying the weight of your persistent melancholy.

angel's expression shifted from optimism to a genuine concern, and for a moment. "hey, come on, don't shut yourself in like this. you're missing out on all the fun, babe."

you sighed, a heavy acknowledgment of your own reluctance. "i just don't feel up to it, angel."

angel dust tilted his head, his fluffy white hair falling to the side. "listen, y/n, i get it. hell can be a real shitshow. but shuttin' yerself away won't make it any betta. sometimes you gotta embrace it, ya know?"

you couldn't help but appreciate his attempt at uplifting you, even if the weight of your gloom persisted. "it's just hard."

angel patted your shoulder, a surprisingly gentle touch beneath his flashy exterior. "you're not alone. we're all a bunch of misfits in this hotel, and we've got each other's backs."

he flashed a crooked grin, attempting to inject some humor into the conversation. "besides, who's gonna keep me entertained if you're not around to shit on everyone with me?"

you chuckled despite yourself, a small crack in the armor of your gloom. "you're impossible."

he winked,. "damn right i am. now, how about we at least crack open a bottle in your room? we don't need husk to have a good time."

[megamindsecretlair]

Stay With Me

Pairing: Tyrone x Black!Fem!Shy!reader / Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Smut, PWP, cursing, PIV, oral (male and fem receiving), cum play, possession kink, size kink, breeding kink if you squint, all consensual. Praise kink. Use of n-word. Mention of depression. Mentions of negative self-talk.

Summary: You never thought in a million years that Tyrone would look at you with desire in his eyes. Tonight, he does.

Word Count: 5,885k

A/N: I....sort of went overboard with this. I'm going to be soooo groggy in the morning! I hope I did it justice! Likes are always awesome. Please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers!

Taglist: @planetblaque @dayjlovesromance @sevikasblackgf @melaninpov @amyhennessyhouse @henneseyhoe @honeyoriginalz @justheretostan @black-fairy3 @superhoeva @jarfulloftears @hereformiles @montysstuffs @westside-rot @blackerthings @blowmymbackout @euphoric05 @miyuhpapayuh @nicolexnight @8ttached @judymfmoody @wakandas-vibranium @soft-persephone

“Man, get the fuck off my porch,” Tyrone spat out and callously slammed the metal door in front of the girl’s face. You almost felt sorry for her. Almost. It was Tyrone. Of course he was gonna act like a dog after he got some play. You weren’t blaming her. But you had to keep your heart out of being with Tyrone. 

The girl continued yelling so he slammed the wooden door in her face as well. It cut out of the long stream of curses and names she was calling him. She called his name and banged on the metal door, the sharp sound hurting your ears. 

You watched Tyrone shake his head and return to the couch next to you. You hid a smile as you looked him over. He wore his usual dickies and black T-shirt and his hair was pulled into smooth cornrows. He blew out a breath and shook his head, settling into the couch and pointedly ignoring the banging on his door.

“Bitch act like she the police,” he muttered. 

You turned your attention back to your phone. The TV played some type of game. You didn’t bother to remember which one. Tyrone endlessly flipped through channels never settling on anything. 

“Go on and say it,” he said. 

You looked at him and smirked. He settled sideways into the couch so that he was partially laying on your legs. You were propped against the arm of the couch, your elbow digging into the rough fabric. 

“I ain’t say nothin’,” you said quietly. Even after all these years knowing Tyrone, you never managed to get over how hot he was. There was a subtle attractiveness about him. His energy or his vibe or just the way he walked and moved. 

“But you want to, so go on,” he said. He turned his attention back to the TV but you saw the way his jaw flexed. He hated unnecessary drama. Well, that’s what he said. And yet, there was always some girl chasing after him because of how he dogged them out. 

The girl at his door finally gave up banging on it. It was clear Tyrone wasn’t going to answer. You couldn’t tell Tyrone shit. Not a damn thing. Once he set his mind to something, there was no moving him. 

For someone that hated drama so much, he was constantly in the middle of it. Whether it was his dealing, his boys, or the skirts he chased. 

“There’s nothing I can say that you ain’t heard before,” you said. You smirked at your phone. Tyrone would have another girl on his porch soon. Upset and angry. Rightfully so. Tyrone never promised tomorrow. Yet without fail, there was someone thinking that they could change him. That was like expecting the sun not to rise. 

“But yo ass gonna sit there smug and shit until you say somethin’,” he said. 

“You make it sound like I nag,” you said and rolled your eyes. 

“Might as well,” he said.

You kicked at his shoulder and he turned and bit your calf. “Ass,” you told him.

“Come on, shit,” he said. 

You rolled your eyes and stared at him. “You need to be more selective with these girls you fuckin’. They stay on your damn porch,” you said. 

“I can’t help it. I see some sexy ass thighs and I wanna get between ‘em,” he said. He looked at you but you knew the comment wasn’t directed at you. You ignored the long standing ache in your chest. It wasn’t his fault that you couldn’t control who you were attracted to.

Look at him! How could anyone not be attracted to him? Tyrone moved through the world like it owed him something. Like it was his God-given right to breathe this air, walk these streets. That type of confidence and self-assuredness was attractive. 

You on the other hand…you knew you were shy and awkward and weird. The adjectives were like scarlet letters painted on your forehead. You had been called all three your whole life. Like they were dirty words equivalent to calling you a slut or a whore. 

There was nothing wrong with those things. But if you heard it enough, it tended to take on a new meaning. One that you couldn’t leave behind. The scarlet letters proclaimed your identity before you had a chance to introduce yourself to someone. One look at you and people sized you up. Whittled away any chance of proving them wrong. Add in your resting bitch face and you turned people away without trying.

No kidding, today, you overheard someone say, “nah, she look mean” when they were looking for a place to sit. Was it a crime to not smile all the damn time? No one told men to smile that often. As if you were supposed to deal with bullshit day in and day out with a goofy ass smile on your face. 

Tyrone waved his hand in front of your face. “You stay spacin’ the fuck out,” he said.  

“I heard you, I was just thinkin’. You can help it. You just don’t want to,” you said. You went back to scrolling through your phone. 

“What’s wrong with liking sex?” 

You shrugged. “Nothin’. You could use some discretion though. How you know these people are clean?” 

You shivered. The last thing you wanted was a sexually transmitted disease. The thought of it was embarrassing enough. You couldn’t imagine looking a doctor in the eye and explaining what happened. 

“I wrap my shit. Plus, I don’t fuck every bitch I meet,” he said. 

You laughed so hard that you threw your head back on the couch. Your sides hurt as you laughed. 

“It ain’t that fuckin’ funny,” he mumbled, sucking his teeth. That only made you laugh harder. If there was one thing you could say to describe Tyrone, it was that he was a whore. An entire whore. 

Whenever you hung out, he and the boys would see a fine girl walking by and crane their necks looking at her ass. You were relegated to “one of the boys”. They knew full well that you were a girl and were capable of being fine too. But no one took the time to warm up to you. No one desired you that way. You didn’t turn heads. You made people laugh until they realized you were worth looking into.

It wasn’t a dig at yourself. You just knew your role in life. You were like the song on the playlist that someone added and forgot about. Until you came up on shuffle and the listener realized that you were actually fire. 

You sobered up with a deep sigh. Giggles still escaped you but Tyrone was not having it. He stared you down as if you kicked his puppy. “I’m just sayin’. You got a rep,” you said.

“A rep for layin’ pipe,” he said with a cocky grin. You rolled your eyes. Why did you bother with him in the first place? 

“Sex should mean something, Tyrone,” you said.

He sucked his teeth and rolled his eyes. “That’s ‘cause you ain’t had no good dick,” he said.

A strangled noise escaped you before you kicked at his shoulder. He moved out of the way. You did manage to kick him a little. He chuckled and held onto your foot to prevent you from kicking him more.

“I’ve had good dick, thank you very much!” You said. 

“Bullshit. You’d still be fuckin’ if you had good dick,” he said.

“That’s not true. If you layin’ good pipe like you say, you fuck anything that moves. I’m just not into sharing like that. I ain’t trynna have my vag on fire,” you huffed and concentrated on your phone.

Usually, you and Tyrone had an unspoken rule. He and the crew talked about their escapades all they wanted and you pretended to be grossed out and uninterested. You never mentioned your stories. There wasn’t much to tell. And they knew it. But they never made fun of you for it. Worse. They thought it was adorable. 

Because yeah, the one thing you wanted to be was adorable. Just once, you’d like to be sought after. To have someone hot and sexy in your DMs begging to get in between your legs. 

People thought overweight girls were supposed to be happy with the ashy niggas. The dorks who couldn’t hold a conversation. The ugly muthafuckas with an uglier personality who thought you should suck they dick because they held the door open once. 

“A’ight, who you fuck that had good dick?” Tyrone asked.

“I’m not telling you!” The tips of your ears burned as you tore your gaze away from him. For fuck’s sake, you’ve told worse things to your girls. You and your girls got graphic. Recounting sexual encounters and rating them amongst the others. Your girls had more stories than you, naturally. Damn. You really ought to stop putting yourself down. 

Tyrone chuckled. “‘Cause you ain’t had no good dick, that’s why,” he said. He shook his head and went back to flipping channels. 

Dismissed. Just like that. Your ears burned for different reasons. “I ain’t gotta prove shit to you, Tyrone. Worry about yourself and your diseased dick,” you said. 

“Nothin’ diseased about my shit. Wanna see?” Tyrone went to the fly of his pants and your eyes widened. 

“Something is seriously wrong with you,” you said. Just like that, you were laughing again. Tyrone was the only person who yanked your emotions around. You shouldn’t let him get to you. But he claimed to do it so that you would loosen up. 

“I’m not a robot,” you had told him one day.

“I know. But you cool as shit and you won’t let anybody see it,” he had said back. That shut you up for about a week. Tyrone had to track you down and drag you out of the house, thinking you were in a depressive mood. You didn’t have the confidence to tell him that what he said shifted your axis. 

You thought he only saw you like an annoying sister he had to drag everywhere. You practically grew up together. Your houses were right across the street from each other. If he was outside, you were outside with him. So to hear him give you a compliment touched parts of you that you learned to bury. 

You blinked and turned to Tyrone who was leaning over you, his face closer to you than it’s ever been. Even when he had chased you when you were twelve and you both got tangled in the water hose and fell on top of each other.

“I can help you with that, you know,” he said. 

“With what?” Your voice was quiet. 

He slowly licked his lips as his eyes trailed down. “Gettin’ you some good dick,” he said. 

You chuckled. “How you gonna do that? Gonna put an ad out for the big chick needin’ dick?” 

“Why you do that?” He asked.

“Do what?” You were starting to get an attitude. Whatever game he was playin’, you wanted no parts of it. This was a cruel joke, even for him. And he never let you live down your prom. Not because of how you look, but because of how your date looked. He still brought it up.  

“You stay puttin’ yourself down. Like you gotta do it first or somethin’.” 

You gaped at him. “I-” You didn’t have anything to say to that. It was instinct to call out the elephant in the room. If not, someone else did it and was way meaner. You weren’t going to let anyone make you feel bad about yourself. But your self-deprecating humor was hurting you more. Perhaps you wanted someone to correct you, just once. To say, “fuck that, you sexy as hell”. It was a stupid wish. 

“I’m just sayin’. I can help you out with it,” he said.

“You want to fuck me,” you said. You tried to hold in your laugh. You tried to take him seriously, but you felt a slow grin cross your face. He didn’t smile back. Instead, his eyes narrowed and he looked at your lips. 

“Damn right. Been trynna fuck you for a while,” he said.

Your jaw dropped. Where the hell was this coming from? You sat up straight but he was still near you. He was close enough that you smelled his spicy scent and could see the dark pools of brown in his eyes. Only a few inches separated your lips from his big, juicy ones.

“What?” 

He grinned. The cocky muthafucka. “Ain’t you noticed it’s just been us hanging around lately?” 

No. It wasn’t until he said it that you realized. The boys had been noticeably absent. Instead of hanging with them while they roamed the streets or sat outside Tyrone’s porch, it had been just you and Tyrone. Watching TV, playing games, or taking drives up the 405 when the traffic died down. You were just happy to spend time with him. Any way you could get him. 

You thought it was awesome that his crew didn’t want to hang lately. You got to be selfish and have Tyrone’s attention. That was him…flirting? 

“Oh,” you said. 

He laughed and shook his head. “I figured yo ass didn’t know,” he said. 

He stood up, giving you enough time to breathe and deal with this turn of events. You ran through every interaction, wondering how you could be so blind. 

“Nuh uh. Don’t disappear on me,” he said. He pulled you up off of the couch and took your phone. He tossed it on the couch and led you down the short hallway to his room. You had been there plenty of times. You had cracked jokes with the rest of his friends that it was radioactive with how much sex he was having. He’d wave you away, saying it wasn’t like that. 

You expected it to be gross. But it was refreshingly clean. He still had shit everywhere, though. Stray clothes piled on his desk chair, clothes spilling out of the closet. He had a wall of shoes stretching towards the ceiling. What was it with guys and shoes? 

He closed the door after leading you into the room. You stood there, awkwardly. You weren’t sure what to do. You hadn’t had enough time to freak out about this new development. 

He chuckled at your awkwardness and grabbed your hand again, pushing you onto the bed. “What you say? You wanna see what we can get into?” He asked. 

You looked at him. He wasn’t pushing you. You could’ve pulled your hand away in the living room and told him that he was crazy. “You wanna fuck me,” you said. You still couldn’t believe him. You pictured this so many times in your head. But now that it was offered to you on a silver platter, you felt like a virgin all over again. 

You were aware of everything. Every sigh that left his lips. The subtle drape of his shirt on your bare arm. The heat leaping off of him. 

“I wanna fuck you,” he said. 

“Why?” You asked. You swear, you weren’t trying to be this dense. It just didn’t make sense to you. 

“Why not? You’re fine as hell. And funny. You cool as shit,” he said. 

You bit your lip as you went through all the women he had been with. He didn’t really have a type. Petite and cute was a common theme. Petite as in being short as hell. You supposed he never really been with a super skinny chick. 

Tyrone was a big boy. He had some meat on them bones and it showed every time he moved. He was a solid dude. He’d probably break someone that was skinny. 

The wet heat of his lips pressed against yours and you gasped. Tyrone pulled back and grinned. “Stay with me. C’mon, give me a chance,” he said. 

You grinned and leaned forward, kissing him for real this time. Tyrone pushed his tongue in, rolling it against yours. You felt it down to your core. You moaned softly. 

“Take these off for me,” he said. He tugged on your shirt and played with the hem of your shorts. 

You stood up and pulled off your shirt. Then you unzipped your shorts and shucked them off. You stood there in your bra and panties, feeling both turned on and incredibly shy. You crossed your arms but he shook his head. He peeled your arms away from your chest and he looked his fill.

You were too nervous to look him in the eye. To look at his face. Goddamn it. You didn’t hate the way you looked. But you couldn’t get over your insecurities. “Can we turn off the light…?” 

“Fuck no!” He scooted closer to the edge of the bed and grabbed your hips. He pulled you closer to stand between his legs. He rubbed your sides, your ass, and your thighs. He kissed your belly and you gasped. 

He looked up at you. He licked your stretch marks. You placed your hands on his shoulders to keep your legs from folding. How long has it been since you had sex? A while. And that had been a desperate attempt at latching onto the first halfway decent guy to look your way. 

He nibbled on your love handles, squeezing your flesh so he could take a big bite. You slapped his shoulder and he laughed. “That shit hurt!” 

“Good,” he said. He looked at you, daring you to do something about it. Again, insecurities robbed you of any idea of what to do next. You wanted to be sexy and take the lead. You wanted to entice him. Instead, you stood there while he kneaded the back of your thighs. 

“Hey, relax. Stay with me,” he said. 

He prompted you to climb into his lap. You placed your knees on the side of him and rested on his lap. His thick cock pushed against his shorts and you gasped as you got your first feel of it.

Okay, you sort of got why these girls would bang on his door like that. He ran his hands up and down your back as he kissed you slowly. He played with your lips. First he’d kiss you. Then he’d pull back and lick your lips. Then, he’d run his tongue across your teeth and you shuddered. 

He was content to do just that. Until you were squirming in his lap, trying to get some friction. He ran his hands across your back, fiddling with your bra until he unclipped it. He drew the cups down until it hung on your arms. You moved your hands from around his neck, but he shook his head.

“Put that shit back and hol’ on,” he said. You smiled and put it back on his shoulders. He kept his eyes on you as he put his head down and licked the top of your breast. You stuttered with a sigh. 

He moaned as he latched on to your nipple and started to suck. “Oh shit,” you said. You leaned up, you weren’t expecting him to suck that hard. In fact, you hadn’t known your nipples were that sensitive. Guys mostly ignored them, too busy trying to fuck. 

But Tyrone worshiped your titties. He went from one to the other, sucking and nibbling on your nipples. He sucked and yanked on one and it was like he yanked on your clit. Your wetness was pooling in your panties and you wiggled. If you were bare, his shorts would be ruined. You hissed as he yanked harder. 

“Fuck!” You said and tapped his shoulder. He let go with a wet pop and your nipple stayed beaded and swollen. He did the same thing to your other titty. “You do this shit to other bitches?” 

“Fuck no. You ain’t no bitch to me,” he said. He laved at your titty, encircling it with his tongue before he flicked it. You made all kinds of sounds as your eyes rolled back a bit. His hands gripped your ass and slid you higher on his lap.

Surely, he had to be hurting. His crotch was bulging and thick. It couldn’t have been comfortable for him. 

His words finally registered and you melted into him, pushing your chest into his face. He grinned. “Yeah, that’s right. Give me that shit,” he said. He reverently licked and sucked on your titties until your panties were truly damp. You didn’t have time to overthink. There was nothing but his heavenly mouth on your breasts.

A strangled sigh left you. You were grinding down on his dick. You almost had him in the perfect spot to rub against your clit. 

Abruptly, he stood up with you in his arms. You panicked. All the tension returned as you left the ground. You clung to him and he chuckled. “I got you,” he said. He kissed your cheek and the corner of your mouth until you focused on him instead of how much it would suck to crash to the ground. Carpet or not, the shit would hurt.

He laid you down on the bed and removed his shirt and pants. He rubbed himself over his briefs but he leaned down and took off your bra completely. He kissed your neck, licked your collarbone, and continued down. His hands peeled your legs apart and you moaned at the force he used.

“So fuckin’ pretty,” he murmured into your skin. “You wet for me?” 

He didn’t wait for you to answer. His fingers traced your pussy through your panties and he groaned in satisfaction feeling the wet spot there. You gyrated on his hand while he kissed his way back up to your face. 

He pressed his thumb in, pushing your panties into your clit and he rubbed harder. “Oh shit,” you moaned. He swallowed your moans. He kissed you and continued to play with you over your panties until you were panting and shaking. 

He kissed down to your ear and bit at your earlobe. “Let that shit go,” he said.

You whimpered before your knees slapped together and you came with his hand still on you. “You so pretty when you cum,” he whispered in your ear. 

He stood up with a satisfied smirk as he watched the last dregs of your orgasm leave you. He removed your sopping wet panties and kissed your knees when he finally got them off. He rubbed and caressed your thighs until you were relaxing against him once more. 

He opened your legs and stared at your pussy. “Fuck. So fuckin’ pretty. You ain’t had nobody work yo shit, huh?”

You shook your head but realized he may not have seen it. “No,” you admitted. No one had done half the things that Tyrone just did. He made you cum without really touching you. You weren’t sure if you should be embarrassed or impressed. It should not be that easy to get you off. It usually took you a long while. So much so, that you gave up foreplay with men. 

Tyrone stuck his nose against your clit and inhaled. You yelped and jerked up the bed. He bit your thigh and his arms hooked under your legs. He pulled you back down and placed his nose against you, sniffing you. He rubbed his nose in your wetness and you choked on a half laugh, half moan. 

“Goddamn,” he moaned. His tongue darted out to get a taste and he moaned again. “Taste fuckin’ good too. Matter of fact, I’m mad at you now,” he said.

You leaned up on your elbows and looked at him. He was a damn good sight to behold. His head was still dipped between your thick thighs and the look on his face…you wished you could take a picture. He looked hungry. His eyes were wide and he kept licking his lips as if you were still on his tongue. 

“What you mad at me for?” You asked.

“Keeping this fuckin’ pussy from me,” he said. You choked on a laugh. He dipped down and ran his tongue from your pussy to your clit. Your hips bucked and he held you down with his arms. 

He held you in place as he continued to lick you like ice cream. He was slow and methodical, letting you feel his tongue as it swirled around your wetness. Your pussy pulsed in time with his licks and you squirmed on the bed. 

“Oh fuck,” you moaned. You were near crying. He teased you without mercy. He brought you to the brink of cumming over and over, only to retreat and play with something else until your ass was back on the bed. 

A giant wet spot spread under your ass as you gushed arousal. He placed open mouth kisses on your clit, dragging his lips through either side of it. “Fuck, please. Please Tyrone,” you murmured.

“Please what?” He asked and lazily circled your clit again. 

You bit your lip. You didn’t know what you were begging for. Begging to cum? Begging for him to do something else? Begging just to beg? 

“Let me hear what you want from me.” He nosed through your slick and you bucked. “Let me hear that sexy, squeaky ass voice,” he said.

You laughed. It was more like a few puffs of air. Sweat gathered everywhere. You should feel gross. Instead, you finally felt…desired. He wasn’t down there, eating you out as a prerequisite for having sex. He was down there because he wanted to be. 

He suckled sharply on your clit and you hissed. “I ain’t gonna keep tellin’ yo ass to stay with me. Get out of your head for once,” he said. 

You grinned at him. “Yes, sir.” 

He moaned and licked at your clit. “Say that shit again, I like that,” he said. 

“Yes, sir,” you said. 

He grinned around your pussy. Your slick dripped down his chin. His entire face was wet with your juices and it only turned you on. He moaned as he felt your pussy clench. He was bringing you to the edge again. You couldn’t stand it.

Your body was overheated. Your hands clutched at his sheets desperately. You licked your lips. “Please…I need to cum,” you said. 

“You think you deserve to cum?” He asked. “Ain’t I already give you one?” He continued to lap at your slick and you twitched and jerked with the painful need to cum. Your belly was too tight. 

“Please, please, please,” you said. You threw your head back and forth. You needed something, soon. If you were denied one more time…

“Please, Tyrone. Don’t…I need to cum, please,” you babbled. You were saying anything at this point. You may have offered him your first born or a lifetime of blow jobs. You weren’t sure. But his deep, rumbling laugh skated over your sensitive skin. He rarely laughed. Each time he did, you cataloged it for later. When you were indulging in a delusion that involved him and this exact scenario. 

“Since you asked so nicely,” he said. If you thought he was serious before, it was nothing compared to how he attacked your clit. Like a starving man who’d just been offered a king’s feast. He flicked your clit with the tip of his tongue. Playing with the swollen nub until you were stuttering and hollering.

Tears of relief finally leaked out as you came with a high wail. You felt like you were inside out and upside down. You entered a sixth dimension somewhere. There was only pleasure. Unwavering, unbridled pleasure that swept over you in waves higher than the ocean. You were lost and unmoored. Head empty. 

You panted as you drifted back into your body. Somewhere between all of that, Tyrone had cleaned off his face and his briefs were gone. He looked down at you and stroked himself as he watched you. 

You struggled to your elbows as cold air hit the giant wet spot beneath you. It was lurid, the way you sat in a puddle like that. A puddle of your own making. You didn’t know you were capable of being that wet. 

You wiped sweat from your skin. You needed what he held in his hands. You sat up, your eyes focused on his dick. You wanted to return the favor. You wanted to suck him off. To bring him to the brink of oblivion like he just did for you. 

He chuckled as you reached for him. He stood close and you took him into your mouth. “Fuck,” he said. He threw his head back and jerked his hips forward. 

You went to work, bobbing up and down on his dick. He barely fit. You sucked and slobbered all over him, sucking him in as far as he could go. You used your hands to get to the rest of him, twisting your hands and letting your slobber drip down his dick to make your hands glide better.

“Goddamn, suck that shit. Show me you want this dick,” he encouraged. Sighs and moans escaped his mouth as you pleased him. He encouraged you to go faster and faster until his hips were jerking. He grabbed your head and slammed you further onto his dick. He fucked your face until you were gagging on him. The sound only spurned him on, to keep going and fucking your mouth. 

“Better swallow this shit,” he said. He let loose, cumming with a loud groan. You lied earlier. You wanted to take a picture of him like this. With his eyes closed and his jaw slack. His face scrunched between pleasure and pain. 

His hot load squirted down your throat. You gulped the salty taste of him down. Every last drop. He cursed as he emptied the last of it. He slipped out of your mouth and ran his fingers down your lips. You licked your lips and suckled his thumb into your mouth. 

He gripped your chin and moved your head from side to side. You blinked slowly at him. “You been hidin’ this mouth from me too,” he said. You shook your head with his thumb in your mouth. 

“That’s a’ight. I’ma fuck that shit again. Lay back on the bed,” he said. 

All hints of shyness were gone. You let go of his thumb with a wet pop and scooted further up the bed. This was Tyrone. Your best friend. There was nothing to be shy about. He loved your body. Truly loved it. And by extension, you learned to love it through his eyes. 

He followed you onto the bed, his knees sliding between your legs and pushing until you were completely spread before him. He placed his hands on either side of you, the bed dipping under his strength. 

He leaned on one hand and lined himself up. There was something in the back of your mind, but you couldn’t think what it was. The thought eluded you as he slowly worked his way in. 

His eyes closed and his mouth twisted as he moaned on his way in. He stretched you out, impossibly big. You tensed a bit. You weren’t used to someone quite this big. He noticed and started to kiss you.

He still faintly smelled like you. It was so hot, tasting yourself on his lips that you moaned and clenched around his dick. He groaned and pushed in more as you relaxed. The hand that was around his dick started to rub on your clit and you whimpered and cried. 

You were still so overwhelmed by your last orgasm that you twitched every time he rubbed your clit. 

“Look at you. Can’t even say shit, can you?” He asked. 

You shook your head. “Feels too good. Too fuckin’ good,” you said. 

“Yeah? It’s too much for you?” He pushed in further and your jaw dropped on a soundless scream. 

“Goddamn it, Tyrone!” You slapped at his chest but that only made him chuckle. He grabbed the hand you slapped him with and held it to the bed. He trapped your hand there as he really started to move.

“Oh shit, oh shit,” you groaned. Your other hand pushed at him. Your nails dug into his chest leaving half moon imprints on his pec. 

He increased his pace as he dropped all of his weight on you. His strokes were deeper until you were sure that the tip of his dick was hitting your cervix. “Oh shit, oh fuck,” you said.

“Yeah, talkin’ all that shit. This is what good dick feel like,” he said in your ear. He leaned up, pushing your legs to the bed so that you were neatly folded in half. At this new angle, it was like he unlocked a deeper level inside of you. You felt every inch of his dick. 

“No…condom…” you breathed out. 

“Shit,” he said. His eyes widened but he didn’t stop. “Feel too fuckin’ good to stop. Pussy so fuckin’ tight and wet for me,” he continued. 

You clenched around him. On every stroke, he wrangled more and more incoherent sounds from you. You didn’t know what the hell you were on about. You wanted to be mad that he was hittin’ it raw. But he felt too fucking good. Too fucking right. He belonged there in between your legs. It was a silly idea, but it was true. He was made for you. You had no claim to him. You didn’t know what any of this meant, if it even meant anything. 

So you held on. You scratched at his back wanting to leave some kind of memory behind. Some kind of mark to show that you were there. That you meant something to him. 

“You take me so fuckin’ well. Shit. Good fuckin’ girl,” he said. 

You whined. It was the words you needed. You exploded into a million shards of star dust beneath him. Light blinded you as your orgasm whipped through you once more. Your legs squeezed him and he came with you. He grunted and painted your insides with his cum. He kept stroking as if he was trying to fuck his cum in deeper. Wanting to claim you the same way you wanted to with your nails. 

He dropped onto you, one big sweaty mess. You clung to him, not ready for him to leave just yet. You were still settling down and it felt like you were still fractured. Holding on to him was holding your body together at the moment. 

Slowly, you opened your eyes and he lifted his head. He kissed you once and then twice, lingering. He leaned back and grinned while he panted. Completely spent. 

He caressed your check. It was an unexpected show of gentleness that you didn’t think he was capable of. Don’t get it twisted. Tyrone was dangerous. But in the moment, he was just your best friend. 

He looked at you as if really seeing you for the first time ever. “Stay with me,” he said. 

You grinned and nodded. Yeah, you’ll stay with him. 

&&&

Did you like this? Need more in your life? Check out the other Tyrone fics here: Masterlist

[starlightrosa]

Blitz's Mistake

Set after Apology Tour because that episode made me sad, and I needed to get this out to combat the sads.

Summary: Blitz is falling down a hole of self-hate again. It's up to Moxxie and Millie to pull him out before he goes too deep. And while the method they use is unconventional, it's not like Blitz minds.

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: Lotsa swearing (it's Blitzo c'mon) Apology Tour spoilers (don't read if you've not seen the episode) general depression things throughout but with fluff obviously :3

Enjoy <3

“Fuck, Fizz was right… I’m gonna die alone, aren’t I?”

“Do you have any kind of remorse for what you do?”

“Of course, Blitz, this would be your fault!"

The negative thoughts swirled around Blitz’s head without relenting once, the poor imp in utter turmoil. He had fucked up. He had fucked up so badly, even as he slammed his head into the van’s horn with a loud BEEEEEEEEEEEEEP.

He just wanted to go home. Tears rolled down the imp’s scarred face as his hands shakily gripped the wheel, and he rubbed the crystal on his arm, the harsh reminder of Stolas literally a part of him.

“Fuck… I’m such a screw-up. Fuck this party. Fuck everything, fuck everyone!” Blitz growled, slamming his foot on the accelerator as the imp drove, recklessly blazing through the portal and back into Hell. Once he reached the headquarters of I.M.P, he pushed roughly past Moxxie, sending papers flying out of his hands and slammed the door of his office. Blitz flopped onto his office chair, slamming his head against the desk, his horns scraping the surface of the wood.

“Fuck. Fuck, fuck, FUCK!” Blitz yelled from within. His anger gave way to utter desperation and misery, and the imp covered his face, weeping quietly. For the love of Satan, why did he have to suck at relationships? He’d ruined everything…

“Blitz?” came the voice of Moxxie, as the freckled imp approached. Blitz groaned softly, giving his head another hard whack on the desk. Moxxie gasped and grabbed Blitz’s head to stop him before Blitz could get the chance to smash his head on the desk a third damn time.

“Don’t do that, sir! You’re gonna hurt yourself!”

“Fucking good. Look, if you came in here to say that you want a pay rise, Moxx, it’s not fucking happening.” Blitz shot back, his eyes a bit dizzy from the force of his head being smashed against the desk. Moxxie sighed, as he gently placed the papers on Blitz’s desk.

“What happened, Blitz?” Moxxie asked. Blitz just immediately deflated. He placed his head in his hands, mumbling quietly.

“Fucked up with Stolas… I fucked up so bad, Moxxie.” Blitz whispered. Moxxie sighed. Blitz had his faults. He had a lot of faults. But Moxxie knew that Blitz meant well in his intentions, even if they didn’t exactly come off the way he desired them to.

“Do you wanna talk about it, Blitz? Might make you feel better.”

“Fuck, no. No, I don’t want to be reminded. Just… need to forget. Preferably with alcohol or something.” Blitz murmured.

“Blitz, drowning yourself in booze will not help this.” Moxxie said. Blitz waved him off.

“It will if I try hard enough. Fuck… please just leave me alone, Moxxie…”

“No way. Hang on, Blitz. Millie, honey! Come in here a second!” Moxxie called.

“Moxxie, darlin’? What’s- oh, Blitz! What happened?” the Wrath imp asked as she walked into the office, to see Blitz moping at his desk and Moxxie trying to console him. But clearly Moxxie was not going to get anywhere with it.

“He’s moping because he, quote, ‘fucked up with Stolas.’ Is there any way to cheer him up?” Moxxie explained. Millie thought for a bit, but then a mischievous smile graced her face.

“Well, I s’pose I could do what I do to you when you’re upset, Moxx~”

“Millie, Moxxie is your pegging toy, not me.” Blitz mumbled, his tail lashing. He didn’t hear anything in response, so he looked up. The door was open and Moxxie and Millie were gone. Blitz groaned and banged his head hard into the desk yet again.

“Fuckin’ gone and done it again, haven’t you, Blitz? You’re shit at this stuff. Why did I ever try and-?”

And that was when Blitz felt a tingling on his sides. He gasped and lurched back, only to be met with the grinning face of Moxxie above him. The freckled imp grabbed Blitz’s hands and hoisted them above his head, while Millie worked Blitz’s belly with her little fingers skating over every tickle spot Blitz knew he had. The normally tough-talking imp was reduced to a puddle of laughter in seconds.

“Nohohohoho! M-Millie! Millie, you fuhuhuhuckin’ dihihihiHIHICK!” Blitz laughed, his legs twitching as he fought not to kick out. He didn’t want to hurt Millie.

Moxxie fake gasped. “That is no way to talk to my wife! Apologise!”

“N-Nehehever! NOHOHO, FUCK!” Blitz cried out, Millie refusing to let up. The husband and wife duo shared a devious smirk with each other. And then Moxxie said the words that Blitz was hoping he wouldn’t.

“Get the spikes on his back, Millie.”

“Your wish is my command, Moxxie. Get ready, Blitz~!”

“MIHIHILLIE, DOHOHON’T YOU EVEN THINK ABOUT- AAAAH! AHAHAHAHAHAHA! MIHIHILLIE, MOHOHOXXIE, STAHAHAP!” Blitz shrieked, feeling them tickle his back spikes.

“I’m not even tickling you, Blitz. That’s all Millie. I’m just keeping you still. You can get out, surely.” Moxxie stated, but he knew the taller imp had no chance of getting out. Not against the total tickle monster (er, imp) that was Millie.

“FEELS- GAHAHA! FUCK! I-It feels weheheheird!” Blitz giggled, shuffling his legs. He was trying so hard not to kick Millie.

“Feels weird, Blitz? Hmm, I don’t think that’s the word, sugar. I think the word is ‘tickle’. Wouldn’t you agree, Moxx?” Millie crooned.

“Oh, I definitely would, Millie. Shy or something, Blitz? Or is it possibly… that Mister Mopey here can’t say the word tickle?” Moxxie added.

“Fu- AHAHA! F-Fuck you both!” Blitz snickered, his squirming increasing with each tickle.

“You should really let yaself laugh more, Blitz. It’s very adorable.” Millie said, coming out from the desk. She used this time to migrate her tickles down to Blitz’s belly, relishing in the snorting giggles she pulled from her normally emotionally unavailable boss.

“I am nohohot adorable!” Blitz babbled, finally kicking his legs now that Millie wasn’t at risk of being hit. But Blitz could never last tickling for very long. Stolas used to do it unintentionally when they laid together after their ‘arrangement’ was done. And Blitz didn’t want to lose moments like that. For now, he took this distraction and let himself be tickled silly.

“G-Guys, plehehease. Ehehenough.” Blitz quietly begged after about ten minutes. Sweat beaded his forehead. Satan’s beard, whoever the hell said that tickling wasn’t a good workout were liars.

Moxxie and Millie looked at each other and then they nodded. Millie moved away from tickling Blitz, and Moxxie gently let go of Blitz’s arms.

“Chin up, Blitz. This kinda stuff will work out eventually.” Millie reassured. Moxxie nodded alongside her.

“Yeah. You both need to work on yourselves, but I think you two can make it. True love is true love, and it comes whenever you need it to.”

“You’re watching too many Disney movies, Moxx.” Blitz murmured. But he knew Moxxie was right.

“What was that, sir?” Moxxie asked, his fingers twitching as he slowly walked towards Blitz. Blitz giggled weakly and threw his hands up to defend himself.

“Hehehe, fuck no! Not again, haha!”

Moxxie laughed too. “Just kidding, Blitz.”

“Ugh, Satan’s balls, you got me good. But- ugh. But once I get my energy back, I’m gonna wreck you little shits until you can’t breathe.” Blitz threatened light-heartedly.

Moxxie and Millie shared a satisfied smirk as they both left. Blitz watched them leave, and he leant back in his chair with a grin on his face. Maybe Moxxie and Millie were right. Maybe once he fixed everything that was wrong with him… maybe deep down behind the hatred for himself, there was an imp that Stolas could think was worth loving again.

The End!

[qprpbj]

omg wait the thing about soda not eating as much when he starts to shut down just reminded me of the absolutely atrocious thoughts I have on sodas relationship with food since the bills are tight

maybe I’ll make a long ass post about it cause I dont wanna yap and make this way too long butttttt

Basic gist, he eats less so that his brother can have more because he thinks his brothers need it more… Darry with his physical manual labor of a job that’s outside and that doesn’t even consider his second job and Pony who’s still growing and needs the food for his beautiful big brain and his speedy little legs

i loveeee the headcanons ppl have about all three of them struggling with eating for various ways/reasons tbh. i think darry would mainly out of finances and wants to let his brothers eat as much as they can bc they’re still growing so he doesn’t eat much despite his workload and size, pony mainly out of depression/catatonia esp after johnny dally die (the baloney thing!!!!!!!), soda tbh probably mainly out of (undiagnosed) adhd and just forgets a lot AND probably?? honestly?? just fuckin hates eating healthy food. it’s a fight to get him to eat a vegetable sometimes to be so honest.

mixing in the fact that they live in the 60s and are poor as hell so they don’t even get to eat quality food very often when they DO all eat. and nawt to get like this on tumblr dot com but firsthand nutrition and poverty are SOOO interlaced and it can be sooo hard to break bad eating habits when you live in situations like theirs!!!

[mellybabbles]

If KOSA pases and tumblr explodes, I'll leave this here.

Thank you all. Seriously, I've managed to pick myself up, and finally become the person I want to be, because of you all. Mutuals, followers, or maybe just some random that popped by and thought "cool, have a like/reblog" You have all helped me recover and actually take that step into becoming a better person. I'm happy, and I can say that with full confidence. You've all given me an unfathomable amount of joy, and let me meet the love of my life, and people I thought I'd never be able to interact with. For my mutuals:

Thank you @italic-doing-random-shit for inadverately helping me take that first step into trying out tumblr properly again, instead of running away. Thank for you being an amazing friend and always being there for me. Thank you @largefound for giving me the pushes I need to get confident on my art, and branch out and try new things. Thank you for being one of the best friends I could've asked for. Thank you @tundra116 for being a mood booster every time I see soem crack fuckin post or ask in my inbox. You motivated me to keep going and give others the same joy you give me, even if for a split moment. Thank you @still-got-no-idea for fulling up my notifs and giving me a big smile every time you begin to like my posts. We don't talk much, but I'm glad we're mutuals. Thank you @panda-of-the-trash for motivating me to actually be creative with my ideas, and inspiring me to properly write. Thank you @godofautism for accidentally teaching me to be more aware of what those around me are feeling, and allowing me to take a step into treatment for my alexithymia. Thank you @systematic-err0r for being the mutual I always really wanted to get to know. You're always giving comments, reblogs and likes to the point the support can be mindbogling at times. Thank you @c00kietin for motivating me to give new people a chance, and to finally work on the relationships I have now. Thank you @phymarsh for giving me that first boost of excitement of an inspiration of mine following me and interacting with me. For giving me a smile every time I see you on my dash. Thank you @switchthedragon for always remaining strong, inspiring me to do so despite all the hate and threats I was receiving. Thank you @liliallowed for inspiring me to try new artstyles and finally figuring out the one I love the most. Thank you @inka-boi for being one of the biggest beams of light, helping me to learn how to sympathize again and love myself and others. For helping me to go back to my roots and mend what was broken. Thank you @juno-punk for inspiring me to make my own OC's and AU's, instead of locking myself up with shame in fear of what others would think if I made them. Thank you @mikerooksi @lust-sans-vios-rpaccount @wonkus-bonkus @doodlenovaa @killersansofficial @dustsansm1 for showing me back to the joys of interacting with new people and finding joy in it, instead of forcing myself into uncomfortable situations. Thank you @safwunnz for making me feel noticed and big in the grand scheme of everything. Allowing me, even if this might all be gone, to feel like I've made enough of an impact to reach out to artists that inspired of me in the first place. Thank you @elizakai for the first step in art. You're the reason I draw and enjoy it, allowing me to actually have something to do when I'm in a pit or rut of depression. Thank you @/swiftmitsu @/artpepkin for making my month by a simple button click. For all the smiles and laughs your art and animations have given me. The joy I once never got to experience. (Too nervous to ping) Thank you @ant1quarian for allowing me to read stories that actually make me feel like I'm there, and escape how horrible reality can be sometimes.

Thank you all for giving me the love and life I'd lost from being beat down. For those who weren't pinged, I was too nervous. Thank you all so much. For all my friends outside of tumblr that are mutuals on here, you all know how much I care for you and I'm happy to have you all in my life. Thank you for everything.

[mykneeshurt]

Thank you

Keegan x AFAB reader

Credit for the artwork to @ave661 who kills it every-time.

Warnings - 18+, minors DNI, smut, unprotected sex, p in v, themes of depression, self-critical thinking

This was gonna be fluff, but I’m incapable apparently.

————

Lying on the roof of base you leant back onto your elbows as you allowed the fine rain to mist over your face. You often came up here when you wanted to clear your head. It was peaceful, still. The familiar sting of loneliness throbbed in your chest as you took in strangled breaths, urging yourself to calm down. Tears stung at the corners of your eyes as your chest collapsed in on itself.

You allowed them to fall, cleansing your soul of the pain you were feeling. Looking up at the sky your eyes drifted along the stars before landing on the moon. The blue hue of the moon bore down upon you as you covered your mouth to muffle your sobs. While the pain your felt was incredibly real you couldn’t place what emotion it stemmed from. It was more than sadness, it was more than anguish, it was a silent emotion that crept up on you. Keeping you hostage within its firm grasp.

‘Thought I’d find you here kid’ a husky voice penetrated the darkness. You remained looking at the sky, the rain started to pick up, the heavy droplets of water kissed your skin. The figure trudged over to you before sitting by your head. Looking up a pair of cloudy silver eyes looked back at you, his gaze softening slightly as you finally acknowledged him.

‘Hi’ you muttered meekly.

‘Didn’t see you at dinner.’

‘So you came looking for me?’ You asked, removing your gaze from his, back to the sky. ‘You been quiet lately, been worried about you.’ You scoffed internally to yourself. Why would anyone be worried about you? Why should anyone be worried about you? ‘Why are you here Keegan?’ It came out a little more cold than you had intended.

‘Cause I care about you kid, you haven’t been yourself for a while now.’ He sounded sincere, but the little voice inside your head was already telling you he couldn’t be trusted. You weren’t worth caring about.

Slowly you sat up, swinging your legs around so you were sat upright, next to Keegan. Your clothes stuck to you, clinging to your form as you repositioned yourself. Your shoulders hunched over as you leant on your arms, fresh tears now falling with the rain.

‘Why? No one really cares, they tell you to talk, they listen but they don’t hear you. How are you any different?’ You spat, eyes still firmly staring at the ground. A warm hand encased your cheek, pulling you to look at him. Reluctantly you turned your head, your now bloodshot eyes met his calm pools of grey and blue. It was enough to make bile rise to the back of your throat. ‘Because you’re a good person, and because I like you. Always have.’ He was being sincere, serious even. His face didn’t falter when he expressed those words. You rolled your eyes, the words stung, piercing the armour you’d placed around yourself.

‘You’re fuckin delusional’ you spat, unwilling to accept his words. He placed his other hand on your cheek, cupping your face entirely. ‘Why do you hate yourself so much?’ His voice was strained, a tinge of pain strung throughout it. You’d been with the Ghosts coming up to a year now, you got on well with them and even better with Keegan. You felt safe in his company, on and off the field. He’d wormed his way in instantly, and you hated him for it.

You’d be lying if you didn’t admit your attraction to him, he was gorgeous, kind, a great mentor. You’d flirted on and off for months but nothing ever came of it. Convincing yourself you weren’t worth his time, his love, if he felt that at all. You didn’t deserve to be loved, to be liked. You placed your hand over his, shutting your eyes trying to calm yourself. ‘Why do you care? Why are you up here?’ Pain and disbelief evident in your voice.

He placed his forehead against yours, ‘because you don’t, I’ll care enough for the both of us. You don’t deserve the pain you put yourself through.’ A guttural sob left your chest as he pulled you into him, placing his arms around you. He felt safe. He felt like home. Cradling your head he kissed your temple, ‘I’ve always cared about you, more than you’ll ever know.’ It was such an alien feeling, having someone outwardly confess how much they care. It made you cringe.

He kissed your cheek this time, and again, edging closer to your lips this time. You bit your lip, the salty taste of your tears spread across your tongue. This wasn’t real. You couldn’t accept it was real. How could anyone want this with you? You whispered his name against his lips, a plea of disbelief. ‘Please’ he begged ‘let yourself be happy, let me in.’

You peered up at him, lashes saturated with tears and rain. You still didn’t understand what he saw in you, why he would want this. But for once you allowed yourself to feel, to really feel a sliver of anything but sorrow.

Glancing down to his lips again a strained breath forced from your chest, you cupped his jaw in return. As he placed his lips on yours it felt like you’d been punched full force in the gut. You gripped at his jaw, falling into the kiss further and further. Your jaws opened in perfect unison as you swiped your tongue along his. A quiet groan rattled in his chest as he dropped a hand to your waist.

Taking this as your cue you straddled him, never faltering from his kiss. Instead of sadness you now felt overwhelmed with passion, infatuation. He gripped at your back, nails digging into your saturated skin. You ran your fingers through his hair, a black tangled mess. You knelt up onto your knees, leaning over him as you moaned deeper and deeper into him.

He pulled back, breathless ‘slow down kid.’ Instantly your mind told you you were being rejected, but it was quite the opposite. Your chests rose and fell in tandem, panting to one another. The butterflies that swarmed in your abdomen shot down to your cunt, rolling your hips into him. Staring down at his face, his perfect face you whispered his name again. Begging him for more. ‘Please’ it was bust a whisper lost on the roof of the base.

His throat bobbed at your words, at your plea. His mouth suddenly running dry. He lifted you onto his hips as he made his way to the door. ‘No.’ He looked at you confused.

‘Here, on the roof’ you asked tracing his lips with your thumb. ‘Really? In the rain?’ You nodded in return, kissing him once more.

Letting you down your boots hit the floor, you led on the ground, legs parted, droplets of rain running down your face. Keegan placed himself between your thighs as he kissed your neck, ‘fuckin hell kid.’ Placing a finger on his swollen lips you hushed him ‘shh Keegan, just fuck me. Please.’

Wasting no time you fumbled with your belts, pulling your trousers down as far as the wet material would let you. Freeing himself he lined up at your entrance, pushing himself into your cunt he threw his head back. A grunt came from the pit of his chest. He clawed at your hips, your waist, your ribs. Any part of you he could touch, that he could feel, like a man touch starved. You pulled him close to your chest as he began to thrust faster and faster.

Delicate moans flooded his ears as you cradled his head into your neck. It was primal, pure desire and just fuelling this … what ever it was between you. Arching your back you rolled your hips as he dropped a hand to softly rub your clit. ‘Don’t stop, fuck Keegan, please don’t stop.’ It was a whine, a sob, a cry of pure untamed pleasure. He panted into your ear, guttural whimpers as he savoured the sensation of your cunt around him. He couldn’t talk even if he wanted to, completely lost to this feeling, lost in the moment with you.

Pulling him to your face you rested your foreheads together, inhaling each others moans. Mouths open and slack, chasing each others high, daring each other to fall first.

But it was you.

You came first, clenching around his cock he cupped your face ‘that’s it … atta girl … come on my cock.’ His voice was dry, withered. As he coached you through your orgasm his pace became sloppy, jagged. ‘In me, cum in me’ you whimpered, eyes screwed shut, brows furrowed as you tried to regain control. His moans can only be described as heavenly, sinful, but ultimately indescribable. His cock pulsated inside you as he came, filling you completely.

He rested his head in your chest as he rode out his orgasm, panting onto your skin. ‘Keegan?’ You asked quietly. ‘Yeah?’ He remained breathing heavily into you.

‘Thank you.’

[theetherealbloom]

UNEVEN ODDS - CH. 5

Chapter Five: Our Mistakes Were Bound To Be Made

Summary: The Reader is dragged into the Last of Us universe and has no choice but to watch the events unfold or will she be able to change what was already written?

Paring: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Age-gap Romance, Violence, ANGST, Swearing, Suicide, reader in this chapter thinking of unalive, tiny fluff, PTSD, Depression, Anxiety, Crying, Suggestive content, the pandemic, character death, Zombies, eventual SMUT, MY SCIENCE IS WONKY, probable plot holes, rusty writing, TLOU is dark please read at your own risk!

Word Count: 10.8k

A/N: HELLO! WOW UM YOU GUYS ARE SO KIND AND SWEET AND AHHHHH every time I write I get so fricken nERVOUS bcs I want to do it right and I heckin’ put a lot of pressure on myself every time I create something and I want it to be good and now I’m slowly beginning to realize I’m a perfectionist AHKJFHAHA But it’s so worth it, I always look forward to your comments and feedback and warms my heart to see you all enjoying the series so far! ALRIGHT go go go go!

(P.S. UHHH THIS GIF MAKES ME GO FERAL DASKJJFHASKDGH WHY AM I SMILING SO WIDE RN PLS I WOULD DO ANYTHING FOR HIM HNGGGG)

Song: hate to be lame (feat. FINNEAS) by Lizzy McAlpine Previous Chapter -> Next Chapter | Series Masterlist

TLOU WORLD - 2023

KANSAS CITY – MIDNIGHT

Joel has his large frame covering your body and you’re trying to steady your breathing. His fingers are still gripping your waist tightly, feeling them pressing onto your skin. You hear Henry speak in a commanding voice, “Eyes on me. Eyes on me.” You and Joel slowly bring your eyes to him, while yours are wide with fear like Ellie’s, Joel’s eyes are narrowed in anger. He’s pissed at himself right now.

Henry has the gun pointed at Ellie, who was kneeling with her hands up, he speaks again, “You don’t have to worry about what to say. We don’t want to hurt you. We wanna help you.” Joel only utters a single word, “Okay.” Henry shifts his weight, making it clear he’s never done this before, “Okay, um…” You try and speak up, “Henry, please put down the gun–” This takes him aback and he sputters in anger, “How the fuck do you know my name?” Your body flinches at the sound of his rising voice and fear of what he would do.

Joel’s gaze darkens, it was like as if a switch had flipped, his vein is close to popping out of his neck, he is the turbulence and wrath all at once, and he shouts at Henry, “Don’t fuckin’ talk to her like that. Only talk to me.” You and Ellie look at him, mouths slightly parting and blinking up at him in shock. There is a sudden pause that fills the fair, and Henry understands that you were important to him, just like the girl who was kneeling in front of him. He shifts his weight again to his other side and speaks calmly this time, “I don’t know what the next step is with something like this but if I lower my gun we didn’t hurt you so you don’t hurt us. Right?”

Joel stares at him with daggers in his eyes, and refuses to warm his tone as he replies, “That’s right.” Henry blinks twice and nervously says, “That’s a weird fucking tone, man.” Ellie is quick in trying to diffuse the situation, “That’s just the way he sounds. He has an asshole voice.” She turns to stare pointedly at him and says, “Joel, tell him he’s okay.” You softly say, “Joel, please.” A beat passes, but Joel doesn’t let up, his voice becomes colder, and stares unwaveringly as he looks at Henry, “Everything is great.”

Ellie lets out an exasperated sigh, “Dude.” While Henry lets out a curse, “Fuck!” His hands are shaking and you get to hear the rattle of the gun as he speaks, “Okay. Listen. I’m gonna trust you.” Henry lifts his arm to get Sam’s attention, the young boy turns his head to his older brother who begins to use sign language, “I’m going to trust him.” Sam signs back to him asking, “Are you sure?” And Henry reassures him, “Yes.” His voice rises again, “But if either of you guys try anything…” He points the gun closer to Ellie’s head, indicating what he means, “Yeah?”

Ellie replies with an unsteady, “Yeah.” And Sam steps off of you and Joel, no longer perched up above you. You feel his grip loosen a bit, but his presence is still there. Joel thinks for a second and asks Henry, “Can we sit up?” And he replies simply, “Yeah. Slow. Get up slow.”

You feel his hands leave your hips and slowly remove himself from you, and you and he sit up slowly, doing as you were told. Joel asks for verification, “Is your name, Henry?” He nods, “Yeah, my name’s Henry. That’s my brother, Sam. I’m the most wanted man in Kansas City. Although right now… my guess is you’re running a close second.” Henry lowers the gun from Ellie’s head, and the uneasiness of the situation dissipates a little bit. You feel your throat closing up as you stare at Sam and Henry, two characters whose futures were written with crayons and coloring books. It was misspelled and outside the lines, and you know their stories end in tragedy.

You, Joel, and Ellie sat across from Henry and Sam, in a fully formed circle. They had asked if you had any food and you nodded, grabbing the remaining packs of food from your bag. The lamp in the center illuminated the room, brushing aside the dark and making room for the bright. You were all chewing and eating quietly, discomfort hanging in the air, a scale waiting to tip off balance, this alliance that had been formed through force and tension.

While chewing, Henry decides to break the silence to ask, “Where’d you get these?” Ellie chirpily replies, “From Bill. He’s dead.” Your lips form into a frown at her words, even though you haven’t met Frank and Bill, the thought of them always causes your eyes to glaze over, your gaze now distant, over the memory of their love and how it ended. Not knowing what to say, the two brothers keep quiet at her statement.

Joel is busy glaring at Henry, unhappy and pissed at his presence, but his overwhelming sense of responsibility takes over and looks to the younger kid Sam, he crumples up the wrapper and gives his remaining food to him. He smiles and taps Henry’s shoulder, signing a thank you, and telling Joel, “He says thank you. I’m guessing you don’t have much, so this means a lot.”

Joel doesn’t say anything and he’s completely stoic, you decide to look at Sam and give him a small wave and you begin to move your hands and arms to sign and speak, “How old are you?” Everyone looks at you in surprise, not expecting what you had done, Henry raises an eyebrow, “You know ASL?” And you nod and signed as you spoke so Sam could also understand, “I’m close with my cousin, she’s deaf. I decided to take up classes early on so I could gossip to her about boys every time she came over after school without my parents finding out.”

Joel can’t take his eyes off of you, his compartmentalization is cracking and this close to shattering. He wonders how he got so lucky to have you with them, and this contrast with Joel’s abject terror at having to feel any sort of fondness or emotions towards you and Ellie. He’s trying to find a reason for him to be angry, to lash out at you for being so kind in an upside-down world, but he can’t bring himself to. 

Sam smiles and signs to you, “Eight.” Ellie smiles and says “Cool. I’m Ellie.” And you sign her name for him, and he nods in understanding, you also sign your name and he smiles at you, what a beautiful kid. Ellie then wacks Joel on the knee so he could be polite and introduce himself, he looks at the girl with a frown, and she persists him, he sighs, “I’m Joel. Look, you ate, we didn’t kill each other let’s call this a win-win and move on.” Henry cleans his hands and swallows the rest of his food, “Well, I’m betting that ya’ll came up here to get a view of the city and plan a way out. And when the sun’s up I’ll show you one.”

TLOU WORLD - 2023

OFFICE BUILDING, KANSAS CITY – DAY

“Welcome to Killa City.” Henry says as you three look out the large glass window, “No FEDRA.” Joel states and Henry confirms this, “Not as of ten days ago, no.” Joel has his arms crossed over his chest, while you stand beside him, he says, “We always heard KC FEDRA was…”

“Monsters? Savages? Yeah, you heard right.” Henry said and he recounts what happened in those walls, “Raped and tortured and murdered people for twenty years. And you know what happens when you do that to people? The moment they get the chance, they do it right back to you.” You shudder at the thought of that, for twenty years FEDRA raped, tortured, and murdered for sport, all because they had the opportunity and power to do as they pleased. “But your not FEDRA?” Joel asks him, Henry looks up at him, “No, worse. I’m a collaborator.”

“What’s a collaborator?” You ask, and Joel answers you, “He’s a rat. I don’t fuckin’ work with rats,” He’s turning and about to usher you away but Henry is swift as he retorts, “Yeah, you fucking do. Today you do because I live here and you don’t. That’s how I followed you here. I know this city, and that’s how I’m gonna help you get out.” Joel’s eyes narrow in suspicion, “Why help us?”

“I saw what you did. What you both did. The way you killed those men.” His eyes shift to look at you and Joel subtly steps in front of you to block him from staring at you, his protective instinct taking over, Henry stares at Joel again, “Now, I know where to go but I don’t know how to make it through alive. Not if it’s just me and Sam.”

“You seem capable enough. You’re armed.” Joel says and Henry shakes his head, “You’re wrong and wrong. Never killed anyone. And pointing an unloaded gun at both of you was the closest I’ve ever come to being violent. So that’s the deal. I show the way. You clear the way.”

A laugh from Ellie and Sam causes the three of you to bring your eyes to them. They’re reading Ellie’s pun book and giggling to themselves. Henry has made a major admission to the two of you, that their guns were not loaded. Joel faces the window again, trying to decide, and you hug yourself with both your arms and listen to Henry say, “Haven’t heard that in a long time.”

“So how are we getting out?” Joel asks reluctantly with both hands on his hips, he has no other option but to let Henry lead the way. He grabs a piece of paper, places it on the conference table, then uses a pencil and begins to draw a map of the area, he begins to explain how to cross the highway, “Highways, downtown.” He points to the center of the paper, “Us.” He circles a specific area of the map, “This whole area belongs to Kathleen.”

“She’s in charge?” Ellie questions next to you, “Leader of the resistance,” Henry confirms, “You can see the way we’re bounded by highways. They got people posted all around the inside perimeter. If we get close, we get caught. No question. So how do we get across?” Henry bangs on the table, the vibrations getting caught with Sam’s senses, he looks to Henry and signs to him, “How do we get across?” The young boy nods and writes across the Woody Woodpecker doodle pad, and he holds up the board, “Tunnels.”

Henry snaps his fingers, “Boom.” And Joel is perplexed as he questions, “Kansas City has a subway?” The older brother looks down before replying, “No, but they do have maintenance tunnels. There’s a bunch of buildings all put up by the same developers. And they share these tunnels, including… a bank building here.” He begins to draw on the sheet of paper again the graphite leaving marks on it, “So we enter the tunnels here travel underground, and pop up here. Westside North. Residential.” Joel has his mouth twisted to the side while you’re trying to process all the information being said by Henry, “There’s an embankment on the other side of the houses. We head down, pedestrian bridge over the river,” he claps his hand for emphasis, “free as a bird.”

“You’re right. That’s a great plan. So, what do you need me for?” Joel his voice was deep and stern as he asked, Henry, licks his lips nervously and takes a breath before replying, “You noticed anything strange about this city? I mean, other than the strange shit you’ve already seen.” You’re quick to reply, “There’s no infected above ground.”

“Bingo, damn she knows ASL and she’s observant, you’re pretty smart,” Henry says and you stare wide-eyed at his compliment, not knowing how to take it. Joel, however, is clenching his fist, and scowling at him. He clears his throat, uncomfortable and intimidated, “FEDRA drove them underground fifteen years ago and never let them come back up. It’s the only good thing those fascist motherfuckers ever did.”

“So you want us going into a tunnel?” Joel states and Henry quickly defends himself, “Everyone thinks that it’s full of Infected including Kathleen, which means that we’re not gonna be running into any of her people. But you see, what I know is it’s empty.” He smiles smugly and Joel is skeptical, “You’ve been down there?” Henry replies with a meek, “No,” Joel takes a deep, frustrated, breath, about to chew him out but Henry pushes on, “but the FEDRA guy that I worked with told me that it’s clean, completely clean. They cleared it out. All of it.”

“When?” Ellie asks this time, “Like three years ago.” Henry replies, and Joel tsked at him while placing both palms on the table, shaking his head in disapproval, he responds with, “Okay, maybe, there’s one or two but you handle it.” Joel looks up at him, “What if there’s more?” Ellie adds, “And one of those blind ones that sees like a bat?” Henry looks surprised, “Wait, you ran into a clicker?” The young girl acts brave, “Two of them.” He then says proving his point, “And you’re still alive. You see? You’re the right people. If it gets bad down there we turn around and run right back out the same way we came.” Joel pushes himself off the table, puffing his chest, “That’s your great plan?” Henry shoots back, “No, that’s my dicey-as-fuck plan. But as far as I could tell,” he shrugs, “it’s our only shot.”

Joel sighs and you hear a thumping sound from the table, it’s coming from Sam, and he signs, “What are they saying?” Henry looks to you for an answer, and immediately your gaze is fixed on Joel, the temper in his eyes cool down and soften, this tells you all you need to know, you look to Sam as you speak and sign to the young boy, “We’re going to help you escape.”

TLOU WORLD - 2023

BANK BUILDING, KANSAS CITY – DAY

The group makes their way across the street and into the abandoned bank. The tall glass windows made you restless, if one of the rebels drove by someone could spot you easily. Joel reads your mind as he says, “We need to get out of sight.” Henry takes a look around and spots the entrance, “Uh, I think it’s this way.” Joel nods and the group breaks into a jog to the right-side hallway of the bank building. The squeak of the door fills breaks the silence and the shine of flashlights chase away the darkness. All of you enter, and Henry says to Joel, “This should be it. You ready?” Joel shifts his gaze to Ellie and then you, “Get your gun out.”

Ellie smiles and pulls it out of her jacket pocket and you do the same, Joel begins to take the lead and you trail behind him. He pushes the large metal maintenance door, shining his flashlight and making sure it’s clear. “See, it’s empty. The plan is good.” Henry says optimistically, and you shake your head, pinching the bridge of your nose. You hear Joel shush him, “The plan is good? We’ve been down here for two seconds. We don’t know anything.” Henry leans back a little, tilting his head at Ellie and you, “You’re dad’s kind of a pessimist.” And in synchronized fashion, the two of them reply, “He’s not my dad.” While Joel says, “I’m not her dad.” You nearly laugh and hide your face with one of your hands as the other was currently holding the flashlight and gun. Henry doesn’t say anything and Joel begins to give instructions, “Just point your light forward and be ready to run.”

You walk a few paces behind Joel with Ellie right behind you, the sound of footsteps echoes in the tunnel, and with every step, you hear the sound of the cement beneath your boots. After what seems like an hour, you take a left, to a section of the tunnel, and stumble across a colorful entrance, one you instantly recognize from one of the scenes in the video game. A castle is painted at the entrance of the door, and blue covers the walls representing the sky, people were drawn on them, child-like in manner. Flowers were painted, along with hills and rainbows.

Ellie lets out a quiet, “Woah,” as your lights bounced around the walls to admire and inspect them. You see Sam about to open the door but Joel stops him while shaking his head, “No.” He goes first, pushing the heavy door, taking a peek with his gun out, and finding no infected.

The rest of the group follows him inside to find chairs, tables, toys, and books scattered around the room. You see the large goal painted on the wall and find a ball right next to it. Joel looks up to find the ventilation fan and says, “I heard about places like this. People went underground after Outbreak Day. Built settlements.”

“What happened to them?” Ellie asks, and Joel looks at the whiteboard with the written house rules, “Maybe they didn’t follow the rules and they all got infected.” Ellie hums and walks over to one of the tables, Sam plops down on one of the chairs, and she messes around with him. Joel looks at a kid’s drawing on the wall, figures representing Danny and Ish. You look over his shoulder and then approached the wall, grabbing the drawing. Joel watches you and asks, “Do you know who they are?” You nod, “Yeah, Ish’s backstory might be different though. But the summary of it is that he established a community here with another guy named Danny, and Suzan and Kyle, with their kids. And several others, but at some point, a door was left open. Just like you said, someone forgot to follow the rules.” Joel sees you frowning and your eyes sad, “What happened to them?” You look up at him, “Ish, Suzan, and the kids escaped and made it out to the suburbs, after that their fate is unknown.”

You hear Ellie and Sam find a Savage Starlight comic and hear her excitement, “No way! I love these!” They begin to converse over the comic issues that they have, you shine your light around the room, looking through books and drawings. You hear Ellie speak again, “To the edge of the universe and back. Endure and Survive.” He begins to teach her how to sign the last two words, “Endure. Survive. Fuck yeah, man!” And they giggle and high-five.

“Keep it down. We’re not out yet.” Joel says and you’re busy grabbing one of the science books that was left behind, you hear Ellie groan, “Oh, c’mon. Can we just rest here for a while? There’s like actually shit to do here.” Henry pipes in, “Wouldn’t be so bad to wait the light out a bit. Safer in the shadows when we pop back out on the other side.” You also decide to mumble, not caring if they heard or not, “And let them be kids for a bit. It wouldn’t hurt them to have a little fun.”

Ellie looks at Joel, and seemingly outnumbered, he shrugs and lets them do whatever. The three of you sit at the table, next to Joel, while he and Henry watch both of the kids play. You are busy studying the book you found, was a bit outdated, but it still held the key information you needed to review, and for some reason, you’re having a hard time remembering important memories.

You hear Ellie and Sam having the most fun that they’ve had in years. Their life is a gorgeous broken gift, with billions of people waiting to be fixed. They were just kids who grew up strong enough to pick this armor up, and suddenly it fits. They grew up too quickly, but if only they knew, that the sunlight shines a little brighter, the weight of the world’s a little lighter all because of them. 

You hear Joel lowly speak, “If you were… collaboratin’ to take care of him I shouldn’t have said what I said. I don’t know you’re situation. And I’m not sayin’ they should let it go, but… All things considered, seems kinda cruel… to send a whole army after you for that.” You raise your eyes from the book, watching the two men, Henry looks down before he admits what information he was hiding, “You know, I wasn’t… exactly telling you two the truth before about me not killing someone.”

Joel turns to look at him with his mouth slightly parted while your eyes are simply waiting for him to continue, “There was a man, a great man. You know, he was never afraid, never selfish, and he was always forgiving. Have you ever met someone like that? Kind of man you’d follow anywhere.” Your leg begins to bounce up and down in anticipation while you slowly bring your eyes to Joel. He wasn’t that kind of man, and despite that, you knew deep down you follow him anywhere. Henry continues and your eyes dart back to him, “I mean, I wanted to. I would’ve. Yeah, but… Sam, he… he got sick. Leukemia.” Your leg stops bouncing after that, you completely go numb and breathing becomes a little harder. A pause between you three, a dose of reality that there were plenty of other illnesses and diseases besides the cordyceps they had to worry about. The quality and value of human lives have deteriorated over the twenty years in their world, and the decisions people have collectively made, to fight each other rather than together inevitably cause the apocalyptic world they have today. You know so little, yet fear so much. You aspire not to expire at the hand of some infectious disease. Children can no longer have proper childhoods, and no more clumsy start to adolescence, the moment they were brought into this world, they now also carry the burden of the past.

Henry continues, “Yeah, anyway… there was one drug that worked and, whoa, big shock. There wasn’t much left of it and it belonged to FEDRA. And if I wanted some it was gonna take something big. So I gave them something big. That one great man. The leader of the resistance movement in Kansas City. And Kathleen’s brother. Yeah, so… you still think they should take it easy on me? Or am I the bad guy?”

You rub the side of your face in exhaustion and stress, while Joel gives him a one-shoulder shrug, “I don’t know what you’re waitin’ on, man. The answer’s easy. I am the bad guy because I did a bad guy thing.” You shake your head, “What was his name?” He promptly responds, “Michael.” You continue, disagreeing with his statement, “No, it will never be that easy. You made a human decision. You took a risk because of your love for Sam at the cost of an uprising that wouldn’t have even happened if you hadn’t done what you did.” Henry only looks at you with guilt then he stares at Joel, “But you get it, though. You might not be her father, but you were someone’s.” Joel doesn’t deny it and simply looks down at the table while Henry goes on, “See, I could tell.” He shifts his gaze at you again, “You weren’t a parent, but I see how hard you try to be there for everyone.”

Joel looks at you for confirmation, but you merely blink with a gaze full of denial, you turn away and stand up from your chair while grabbing your flashlight, gun, and bag, “It doesn’t matter. I don’t matter. The sun is about to set, let’s go.” For the first time, you were the one to walk away.

TLOU WORLD – 2023

PARKING LOT OF THE BANK OF AMERICA, ON THE WAY TO THE SUBURBS, KANSAS CITY – NIGHT

The sound of the metal door opening fills your ears as you walk out of the stairwell, flashlights shine through the darkness as Joel asks, “Do you know where we are?” Henry replies with optimism, “Yep. The other side.” You begin to walk away from the parking lot and into the suburbs. You pull Joel to the side and tug on his arm, he leans down to your height before you could go on your tip toes, and you whisper, “Joel, I’m not sure Sam and Henry are gonna make it. So far it’s been good, and things might’ve changed but I’m not sure what’s going to happen next, ‘cause I can’t remember how it goes from here.”

He looks at you with great concern, “What do you mean?” Your eyebrows tense and your eyes nervously move and shift as the words spill out of your mouth, talking in circles, “Henry might kill himself, but I don’t know why, something is stopping me from fully remembering, I was gonna tell you as soon as I could, but everything was happening so fast and at first I couldn’t recognize anything until the settlement we found… but I can’t… I’m trying my hardest, I swear but–” Joel grips your shoulders and you freeze, “Look at me.” You can feel your heartbeat racing, the anxiety running through your bloodstream and crippling your ability to breathe, “Hey… Hey. Look at me. It will be fine, we’ll figure it out, together.” Your eyes slowly fix on him as the both of you stood there, you know Joel doesn’t make promises, he isn’t at that point yet, but his sense of needing to care for you, to find a way to get rid of your distress, is slowly overpowering his practicality right now. He feels it within himself as his eyes are steadily on yours, trying to keep you grounded, here with him. Slowly, you come back to yourself and take a deep breath, mimicking his breathing.

The world was brighter before you had learned to dim it down, now you call it survival, breath is borrowed and our compass within you stands still. Beneath your brave and trusting feet, all revelations come to you in recovery, you start to nod at the man in front of you, who had his hand still gripped on your shoulders, “I’m fine. I’m okay. Let’s keep going.”

You hadn’t realized that the rest of the group had stopped a few steps ahead of you to give you and Joel the privacy you needed, he lets go and you follow him forward, Ellie only gives you a reassuring smile and you gently smile back at her. There are rows of houses sound asleep, and only streetlamps notice you, while you look for signals, for a clue.

Joel continues to lead the pack and you hear Henry comment from behind you, “No one is here. No one’s gonna be here because my plan worked.” You look up to the sky in annoyance as you, “Can you not say shit like that. It’ll jinx us.” And Joel clicks his tongue at him, “So much goddamn talkin’.” Ellie smirks at both of your attitudes while Henry points out, “I’m just sayin’, I deliver.” He raises his arm and directs, “Make this right, go down the street embankment behind the last house… and we’re out.”

Ellie peers at Henry questioning him, “So we cross the river, and then what? Where ya gonna go?” He ponders for a moment, “Don’t know yet.” And Ellie can’t help herself as she says to him, “Well, we’re goin’ to Wyoming.” Joel turns his head to glare at Ellie, she shrugs at him, “What? It’s a huge state. It can fit two more people.” He looks ahead, not wanting to argue with her, Henry senses Joel doesn’t want them joining, “Yeah. Maybe we just call this one a success and say our fond farewells.” Ellie replies, “No. He’ll change his mind. Trust me. This is how it goes.” Then she begins to mock Joel’s tone and voice, “He’s like, ‘No, Ellie. Never, ever, ever happening.’ And then I’m like,  ‘I’m gonna ask you a million more times.’ And he’s like–”

The sound of a bullet piercing through one of the rusting cars on the side of the street causes all five of you to flinch and duck your heads, you hear Ellie scream, “Fuck!” You’re all confused and puzzled, looking for the source of the sound. A second shot rings out and you all fully process you’re now in a potentially life-threatening situation. Joel shouts and covers you all, “Move! Move! Go!” You all run to hide behind a car, and get low on the ground, “Where the fuck is that coming from?” Henry asks and Joel hisses at him, “Shut up.”

Joel peeks to try and identify where the sniper is positioned, he sees a muzzle flash go off at the end of the road, the highest window of the last house, and he ducks back down. The sharp sound of glass shattering behind you. You hear Henry, “Shit. All right, fuck. Let’s move. Let’s go.” And proceeds to grab Sam by the wrist, attempting to run away, Joel yells at them for their naiveness, “What are you doin’?” He replies, “Gettin’ the fuck outta here!” But another gunshot rings out, hitting the rooftop of one of the nearby cars, Henry reacts and drags Sam back to the three of you, he asks panting, “What do we do?” Joel tries to peek again and luckily the guy misses and hits the car’s trunk.

After assessing the situation, Joel tucks his revolver back in his gun holster, “All right. Stay here.” Ellie whips her head to look at him and you do the same, all at once you both say, “What?” He brings his body to fully face the both of you, “If you don’t move, he’s not gonna hit you. I’m gonna go around, try to get in the house from the back, and then I’ll take him out.” Ellie brings up her valid concern, her voice filled with worry, “But if you go out there he’s gonna kill you.” Joel responds with confidence, “It’s dark and he has shit aim. Nobody’s gonna kill me.” She tries to argue, “Then he’s gonna kill us.”

A beat passes. Then Joel looks directly at Ellie, his eyes firm and steady, with no ounce of doubt, he asks her full of conviction, “Do you trust me?” Ellie swallows down her fear, blinks, and nods. “Birdie, watch over her,” Joel commands and leaves you no room or time to argue, he gets up and proceeds to make his way over to the house down the road.

You and Ellie anxiously watch from a distance, each second you’re secretly praying and wishing that nothing happens to him. Your heart is beating so loudly, the sound of drums beating and thumping non-stop, your worry so evident that you try and stop the oncoming tears that threaten to spill off your face. How quickly did you grow attached to someone who you once believed wasn’t even real? The truth is, the chances are you are alike, against the odds and the grain. Against what better judgment writes, you both ache like children for love. You have no stakes on the ground or an anchor tied down. There are no guarantees, you know nothing but your fears of attachment and neediness.

You toss your feelings away, letting them sink deep below the ocean floor in your chest. It doesn’t matter. You remind yourself and watch him make his way to the back of the house, no longer seeing the silhouette of his figure. Two more loud pops and then the gunfire stops, the four of you sit in quiet eerie silence. You couldn’t tell if minutes or an hour had passed, but a distant gunshot could be heard, this time not directed at any of you. 

You hear a revving car from a distance, and Joel distant yell but is unable to understand what he’s trying to communicate. Ellie’s ears perk up and you all stand to see lights appearing from a distance. Shit. You grab Ellie by the wrist and yell out, “Run!” You feel your whole body working; your leg muscles running warm, cold air entering your lungs and blood flowing into all your limbs. Your calves burned, and your breath formed clouds in the air. You look up at the house while sprinting, and from a distance you see Joel trying to take out the driver of the plow that was barreling through the cars. You and Ellie try to shoot while running, but it does essentially nothing to stop the truck.

The tensions heighten when Joel’s rifle jams and you three are helplessly trying to evade the plow. But this jam provides pause for Joel to collect his breath and re-aim, so the next shot he fires takes out the plow driver. The large truck crashes into a house, causing it to go ablaze and a loud explosion occurs. Ellie falls to the grown and you pick her right back up, quickly ushering her to Henry and Sam, who were hiding behind one of the old and rotting cars, you ask her, “You okay?” She replies with a small, “Yeah.” You hear a loud voice coming from a woman, assuming it’s Kathleen, “Dead end, Henry. Gonna step on out? Save us some time? No? That’s all right, it doesn’t matter.”

Henry looks at Sam, who’s terrified and shaking, he yells out, “I’ll come out! Just let the girl and the kids go!” Kathleen clicks her tongue and in a calm tone, she responds, “No. Sorry. Those two girls are with the man who killed Bryan. And Sam… Well, Sam’s with you.” Henry argues, “You don’t understand!” And the rebel leader pushes back, “But I do. I know why you did what you did. But did you ever stop to think that maybe he was supposed to die?” His voice chokes up as answered, “He’s just a fucking kid!” You can hear the way Kathleen rolls her eyes, “Well, kids die, Henry. They die all the time. You think the whole world revolves around him? That he’s worth… everything? Well, this is what happens when you fuck with fate.”

You couldn’t help yourself, the lightheadedness you feel, the built-up stress, the adrenaline within you, the gasoline that had turned into a flame, an anger that could match a bull’s, recklessly you shout at her, “I’m sorry about Michael, I am. But, Kathleen, can you fucking look past your revenge? Past your hate? Did you even fucking realize that none of this would have happened, your so-called freedom and victory over FEDRA would have never happened if your brother hadn’t died.”

“You have no idea what it’s fucking like! To be without him! He was everything!” She shrieks and you raise your voice louder, “I fucking do! To have everything you’ve known and loved taken away from you? To lose? I know it all too well. Kathleen, can’t you see? We all lost. All of us lost the day the outbreak happened.” There was a pause, and you hear the gears turning in their heads, you continue, “Will killing us bring them back from the dead, or will it just validate your anger? The world ended and all this time we’ve wasted trying to kill each other instead of working together to try and fix the obvious problem. And for what? Tell me. What good did it do?”

A collective silence fills the air, save for the only noise coming from the burning house across the street, Kathleen shakes her head and shifts her weight from one foot to the other, sealing her fate, “I don’t care.” 

You shake your head in disappointment, Henry grabs you by the wrist, “Get ready to take them and run.” You start to argue but reassures you, “Yes! Do it.” You grab Ellie’s hand while she holds Sam’s, ready to run. You hear Kathleen speak again, “It’s time, Henry. Enough!” He takes a deep breath before you watch him stand up, his hands in the air, walking into their view. Kathleen shrugs, “It ends the way it ends.” The click of a gun could be heard, and you anticipate the gunshot but instead hear a loud rumbling noise.

You peek past the cars to see the plow truck has damaged the basement of the house, caving a hole into the sewers below, and then you hear the familiar sound of groans and screeching. The Infected geyser up out of the hole, all at once, sprinting towards the rebels. The sounds of gunfire rang out and more infected came up out of the hole, they seemed infinite. Henry joins back to the three of you and hides behind the truck, a Clicker chases after him and stands atop the truck only for it to get shot by Joel. Henry grabs Sam and decides to run away, you and Ellie do the same. Only for you to get separated when a Clicker grabs Ellie, and Joel shoots it from the perch. The impact causes you both to fall, this is when you and Ellie spot an open car window. Knowing you won’t fit, you tell Ellie, “Go, I’ll help clear the way and then find another way to the house.” She nods and begins to crawl, and you raise your gun and fire at the infected, trying your best to protect Ellie, doing what Joel asked of you. Hearing the more shots from above, you knew Joel was also clearing the way for Ellie.

When she crawls through the window, your mind begins to race. You need to find cover and fast. Finding another car, you duck behind it, reloading your gun as you do. You shouldn’t draw attention, and make as minimal noise as possible. The screams of rebels being attacked fill your ears as well as cars ramming over dozens of Infected. A Clicker approaches you but you push down your fear and side-step it, twisting your body and then shooting twice at its head. It falls limp to the ground, a Runner tries to grab you but you manage to hit it with the butt of your gun, shooting it straight in the head.

You hear a large growl from the crater, and turn your body to look for the noise. Motherfucker. A Bloater begins to emerge from the underground, completely covered in fungal armor plating, its belly sagging and spores popping out from each part of its body. The massive beast tears into the army like it's made of paper people. No amount of bullets will do any damage to the Bloater, and you have zero molotov cocktails, the best course of action was to get Ellie and run. You spot and see Ellie hastily crawl out of the van, a child clicker screaming from the inside of the car. You dart your eyes to see where Ellie is going and spot Henry and Sam surrounded by two Infected.

You sprint your way over there, helping Ellie get rid of the first Clicker and Joel shooting the second one from a distance. A thin layer of sweat covers the back of your neck, and you can feel the aching of your back, as you fight off another Clicker, its mouth screeching at you and trying to bite you. Another loud pop of a gunshot rings out and the Clicker goes limp, you take a large breath and grab Ellie, along with Sam and Henry. The young girl yells out, “Come on… come on! Go… Go!”

You make it out past all the chaos to the front area of the last house, as you run, you hear Kathleen shout, “Stop!” All of you turn to face her, she has a gun pointed directly at Henry. Your heart is racing, and your breathing rate rises rapidly, you bring your eyes to an infected crawling from behind the fence, and Kathleen turns to see what you’re looking at. She was too slow to react, the child Clicker shrieked and jumped on top of her, and the leader of the rebellion fell to the ground screaming. The creature thrashes and mauls her alive as she’s screeching for her life. A car crash you couldn’t turn away from, as you watched her get bit, mumbling under your breath, “Comeuppance.”

Joel makes his way downstairs and outside the house to find all of you frozen, he yells to get his group's attention, “This way now! Move!” Joel is the last to follow, ensuring everyone’s safety. Even from a large distance, you could hear the hundreds of clickers making their way into Kansas City, ready to infect and destroy the foundations they have built.

TLOU WORLD – 2023

ABANDONED MOTEL SUITE, KANSAS CITY – NIGHT

With the fighting over, the five manage to find a safe refuge away from the carnage. A motel suite far away from the infected in the city, for now. The stars are a choir in the symphony of the black; they are lights that sing in limitless ways. Sometimes music is needed for the eyes, and the deeper the night, the sweeter the melody.

You, Joel, and Henry sit in the musty living room area. Henry is sitting on top of a bedside table, while Joel is sitting on the floor, one leg curled up to his chest while the other is stretched out, he has his back to the radiator, and you are next to him curled into a ball, elbows almost brushing, but they don’t. You can hear the chirping of crickets, indicating the bugs have come out to play and exchange stories. The only source of light is the yellow glow from the bedroom, you watch Ellie and Sam continue to read the comic book that they found from the settlement.

“You think they’ll be okay?” Henry asks, still eating the remaining food you’ve packed. Joel nods, “Yeah, I think. It’s easier when you’re a kid anyway.” There’s an audible gulp as he swallows, “You don’t have anybody else relying on you. That’s the hard part.” Henry nods, “Well… I guess we’re doing a good job then.” Joel agrees, “What’s that comic book say? Endure and survive?” And the other man confirms it, “Endure and survive. That’s shits redundant.” Joel gives a breathy laugh, “Yeah, it’s not great.” Henry chuckles with him, “Yeah, no.”

You get up from the floor, not having the heart to tell them how they were wrong. Those kids now felt an enormous amount of responsibility for one another. And to survive means to stave off death, but to endure means to emotionally harden oneself, and tolerate the pain of survival. You begin to walk out the door of the room and Joel calls your name but you don’t turn around, he calls for you again, “Where are you goin’?” You don’t look at him as you lie through your teeth, “I’m just gonna go look at the stars for a bit. I’ll be right outside the door.” You exit the room after that, quietly shutting the door, and sitting on the pavement that faces the parking lot.

You let out a loud sigh, close your eyes, and cover them with your hands. You’re completely worn out, your mind is full but you can't speak, these tired gears, and you’re here somewhere between, drained from the events of today. You remove your hands from your face and take the gun out of your holster, letting it lay flat on the palms of your hand. The heavyweight of your decision rests on a single action.

You nervously lift the left sleeve of your jacket, the bitemarks of the infection are there, but there is no sign of it spreading, no yellowing or puss seeping out of your skin. Your mouth partially opens in shock and confusion, with only one thought in your mind. What the fuck?

You pull the sleeve of your jacket down. This doesn’t make any fucking sense. Then again, you’re in a supposed fictional world with its main cast of characters. None of it should make sense. But you figured, the rules would apply to you as well, that you could get infected. You felt ignorant, humiliated, and painfully unmagical. You are old enough to distinguish a sorceress from a lonely girl, and magic from survival. You make every effort to leave the past alone; it is the result of living in the between, the weight of your found family, and the pull of gravity.

You slowly form your hypothesis in your head as to why you’re immune. Could it be because you weren’t supposed to be here in the first place? You recall something from your previous research notes, ‘In theory, it could be possible to analyze the state of every atom in a person’s body and transmit it to a new location, where the person could be reassembled atom by atom.’

You take a large inhale and rest your head on your hand, which means needing enough information and processing power by using a quantum system, and while measuring, there are multiple possibilities, until the measurement is conducted. But that processing power would have needed an immense amount of energy.

In the tug of war between the tide, you were swept ashore like bottles holding prayers. The courage you contained, and the flutter of your earnest heart, will fill the silent seas, and it has restored a part of your memory. Radiation has become a key factor in the multiple theories you’ve read over the years. So when your atoms had been reassembled, your body must have also mutated and adapted to kill foreign infections, including the Cordyceps.

You hear the sound of the door closing and you don’t need to guess who was there behind you. With the heavy footsteps and sound of the rustling jacket, he quietly groans as he sits next to you on the pavement, the smell of ash and smoke exuding from his being. Joel notices the gun, which was now on your lap but he remains silent, not knowing what to say or do, while you’re deciding if you should share what you’ve discovered with him. You didn’t even register that you were bouncing your leg up and down again until he cautiously and slowly placed his hand on your knee, which caused you to stop the action.

You tilt your head to look at him, and he sees the clear glaze around your eyes, this moment, where you recognize you have no idea what the future holds anymore and the story you’ve been silently telling yourself about what the future is going to be like, has fallen apart in a matter of minutes. It doesn’t get replaced with any new information, it’s simply vanished, an atmospheric tumult. You find no comfort in this discovery, it's like walking up the stairs to your bedroom in the dark and mistaking one stair for another. Your foot slips through the air, and you have a sickening moment of gloomy astonishment as you struggle to reset your perspective. 

You are desperate for some kind of clue, this kind of fear of the unknown terrifies you, the sudden obliteration of expectation, the overwhelming feeling of frustration and fear builds up and rushes down like a rapid river stream. You bite down your lip to stop it from trembling and fold your hands to stop them from shaking. You’re trying to find the best way to avoid confrontation or conflict, but Joel still has his hand on your knee, not letting you get up and leave again without explaining yourself. You could be described as a great river, one which can carry everything along with them but with a hidden dammed-up reservoir of energy. You have very little access to it, due to feeling bad for rocking the boat. For this reason alone, you are generally tired all the time.

Take a deep breath to center yourself, willing yourself to not stutter, and you tell him word by word what you’ve discovered and the possibility of how you got into this world. He stays silent, listening to every word coming out of your mouth, even the science jargon he’s not used to. But what he does understand is, you’re immune just like Ellie. He’s still silent by the time you’re done, and you’re so nauseous that you might throw up on him. You turn away from him, waiting for him to lash out at you, scream and leave you behind. He takes his hand away from your knee, you feel the air in your lungs refusing to leave, and you shut your eyes, anticipating the warm body next to you to walk away.

Instead, he removes the gun from your lap and places it on the ground right next to him, then he holds your elbow cautiously and gently, and your eyes open in surprise, you watch him roll up your sleeve to see the bite completely faded, leaving an almost unnoticeable scar. He brings his eyes to yours and he anchors you down safely, there is rage in his eyes, and you quietly whisper, “Joel?”

You feel his hands squeezing your arm as he hissed at you, “Are you out of your goddamn mind? You should’ve known better than to go out there fightin’ all those infected. How could you be so reckless? What were you thinkin’?” You’re befuddled by his sudden lashing out, you narrow your eyes and try to uncover what he truly meant, and you try to calmly reply, “Joel, it’s okay... Next time, I’ll be more careful, and since I’m immune–” He talks over you, stern and unsmiling, “There will be no next time.” You pull back a little from him, “What? Are you serious? I’m immune and there was barely a scratch on me when the car–” He doesn’t let you finish your sentence, his voice so cold as he says, “You got hurt. Twice. Because of me. Of what I did and keep asking you to do and you would’ve ended up like–”

You frown and can’t help the questions in your mind spiral, what if your injury had gotten worse or you hadn’t been immune? You could have turned. Just like Tess. Does he believe you’re her replacement? That you could be like her? Or you could end up like her?

You blink at him, putting more distance between you two, there is a war inside of you, you are out of depth at this altitude, it’s suffocating you, and feel your walls cave in. Your throat closes up at the thought of him thinking you were like her, that you could ever be her replacement, and your voice is soft and vulnerable as you admit the words you never wanted to say, “Joel… I’m not her. I’m not Tess.” He flinches and recognizes the hurt in your tone, and his heart sinks to his stomach faster than a stone hitting the bottom of a lake. You turn away from him, not wanting to give in to his warmth and strong protective nature, “I’m not her.”

The absence of sound between you two is deafening and consuming all that it touches. In your mind, you beg for it to stop, the need to fill the gaps with a problem you both don’t need. With folded arms and tired eyes, you try your hardest not to cry. The heavy ache in his chest leaves him restless and unable to find the right words to say. Sensing that there was nothing left to say, you stand up and turn to walk away but Joel grabs your wrist and you bring yourself to look at him to see his eyes silently pleading for you to stay. You bite the inside of your cheek and sit back down, expecting Joel to let go but he doesn’t. This causes you to lift your eyes and find him with his mouth open, trying his best to communicate with you without his pride and anger getting in the way of something good.

“You’re right, you aren’t Tess.” He said with his voice low, and can’t help the tears spill out from the rim of your eyes, you whip your head away from him, trying to pull your wrist from his grasp but he doesn’t let up, “Joel, let go of me.” He doesn’t, instead, he holds you tighter and says, “You aren’t Tess, Birdie. You are so much more than that… You are one of the good in my life that I… Hummin’ bird, I don’t know what I’d do if…”

He has trouble continuing, him admitting fragments of what he said shook you to your core. You’re incredibly clever but it takes you a while to process what he meant, so you tilt your head and try to see past his defenses, with these tall invisible walls he keeps himself in. You try to understand his perspective, it is why your mouth forms an ‘o’, not a gasp but the start of, oh, of course. He doesn’t see you as her. But he is angry, yes, but not at you, at himself. He wasn’t able to fully protect you. He made the tough call of crashing the car into the laundromat and you got hurt in the process. And then specifically asked you to watch over Ellie for him and you got bitten because of what he asked you to do. 

You slowly lift your other hand to rest on his cheek, and he flinches, but after a moment he allows himself to relax, unsure and clumsy, you say, “Joel. I’m right here, okay? I’m not going anywhere. I’m fine. I’m alive. I’m here with you. See?” You feel the want of thrill, of taking a risk. The pleasure of feeling the rush as feel yourself grow warmer. You let it happen.

The cracks begin to show, he feels his restraint slipping away, brick by brick and piece by piece. His struggle is not anymore with you, but with himself, his fears and desires, and the cognitive dissonance arising within. God, he’s so afraid, he wants so badly for his selfishness to win, and chooses to flutter his eyes close, with your hand still on his cheek, gently stroking his face, and for once, he thinks to himself, just for tonight, he leans closer to your touch, letting you become his sanctuary.

TLOU WORLD – 2023

ABANDONED MOTEL SUITE, KANSAS CITY – DAY

You had fallen asleep on the dark green carpeted floor next to Joel, using both of your jackets as pillows. Joel had moved in his sleep again and curled himself around you. His heavy warm arms wrapped around your waist and the ghost of his breath on your neck.

A loud thump and the sound of Ellie screaming jolts you and Joel awake. You sit up and see Sam tackle Ellie out the door of their bedroom. She hits the carpet, trying to fight off Sam, who’s scratching and shrieking at her, he has turned into the first stage of the infection. Ellie’s yells are piercing through your ears and you crawl to reach for the gun next to you, only for Henry to snatch it before you.

“Nope!” Henry says as he aims the gun at you and Joel, and Ellie is shrieking your names, for you and Joel to save her. You and Joel have a look of pure rage as you both try and take a step forward only for Henry to shoot at the floor, causing both of you to flinch back. Ellie tries again, wailing and crying out your names, and it only takes a second, before Henry turns the gun and shoots Sam right through the head. Blood splatters on the wall and the young superhero goes limp on the ground.

Your entire body is trembling, while Ellie is kneeling on the ground, looking at Sam’s lifeless body, you look at Henry, who is whimpering and sobbing, he blinks and watches his little brother’s blood stain the carpet, like spilling ink. Joel is heavily breathing and focuses on the young girl, “Ellie,” she turns numbly at him, “Are you okay?” He goes walk towards her, only for Henry to point the revolver at Joel’s head. Without a second thought, you step forward, protecting Joel from Henry. You raise your hands in front of you and plead, “Henry, easy, easy… Henry, please give me the gun.” His breath is shaking and erratic as he asks, “What did I do?” You try and calm him down, “Henry…” He doesn’t listen and still asks, “What did I do? What… what did I do?” He looks down at Sam’s limp and still body, the blood still pooling onto the carpet. A dark shade of maroon continued to seep out from his skull. “Sam?” He asks, lips quivering and his eyes full of fear, he looks back over to you, and you wail, “Henry, please don’t–”

He aims the pistol at his head, and you swore you saw before you blinked. There was no second thought, no going back or erasing. An avalanche now spent in white flag waking days. The loud pop, thud, and shriek follow in a sequence that will haunt your nightmares for the rest of your life, a memory wielded as a weapon. Every good intention is overshadowed by the stain of the past. Death is a blindfolded, bitter kiss. It's the finger put against your lips, emphasizing how they should have lived.

TLOU WORLD – 2023

OUTSIDE THE ABANDONED MOTEL SUITE, KANSAS CITY – DAY

You and Joel are outside, and the sound of shoveling dirt is a sound you’ve now grown to despise. The cold wind moves in only to meet the warmth of your blood, the only defense you have left. You feel it wash over your skin, again and again, only to be met by the beat of your aching heart. Fairness is a ghost, and its sightings take shape in such permanent truth. In the sullen silence, you were all taking turns shattering apart.

Ellie had gone back inside the motel room to get the rest of your things as you and Joel patted down the dirt, creating a small graveyard for the two brothers. If you could turn back the hourglass, you would. Reset every grain of sand, and give these two a proper chance at living the life they should have lived, you would. Your mind continues to spin webs of question marks and regrets as you stop your movements and stand there with instability. Ellie toses two backpacks on the ground, you watch her kneel on one knee and place the doodle pad on Sam’s grave, with ‘I’m Sorry’ written on it, the string of the pen is wrapped around the top and the pen is safely tucked in, making sure no one else will be able to write anything else.

Ellie stands up and asks Joel, “Which way’s west?” He only responds by tilting his head in the direction of it. She’s the first to walk away this time, a kid who grew up scared enough to hold the door shut and bury her innocence. You and Joel say nothing as you stare at the note, and hear her call for you both, “Let’s go.”

You both drop your shovels and grab your things, catching up to Ellie. Your steady true north fades, the three of you walking toward where the sun sleeps and casting your silhouettes as you do. Maybe there’s no answer here, at least neither one of you are ready to hear. No string of words will justify it or a simple equation to show you the solution and answer. In the meantime, you learn that you don’t have all the answers, just a little light to call your own, though sometimes it pales in comparison to the overarching shadows. 

Previous Chapter -> Next Chapter

END NOTES:

I am a hundred percent sure this was the fastest chapter I’ve written and felt so much easier than Episode 4 ohMYGAHD

HOW ARE WE FEELING?? ARE YOU GUYS OKAY??? DRINK SOME WATER BREATHEEE

YAY YOU’RE IMMUNE CONGRATS AHHH *confetti canon*

Wait why r u not happy you’re immune- oh right, you don't know what's gonna happen to you now that you have that information and it doesn't add anything good— it just makes you feel bad lol that sucks (the sudden obliteration of expectation) cause you’ve been telling a narrative you’ve always known and it’s changed and you have no fricken clue what's next

DID I GO BACK AND FORTH WONDERING IF THE READER SHOULD BE IMMUNE: YEP, A LOT… IT KEPT ME UP TILL 4 AM AND I CHOSE THIS BCS tbh it makes sense (??) you’re already a hecking anomaly, might as well be immune too :> Also, I’d like to hope this decision helped the story progress further… I think

Did the science make sense?? I hope so, I researched a lot on quantum teleportation and its possibilities. In theory, yes it’s probable. If you can manage to send every information about the atoms in your body, then send it to a specific time and place, which would take a massive amount of energy and processing power to do, yes u can teleport hooray! I'm just gonna assume radiation plays a part in the energy aspect and then since fungal infections can’t withstand that amount of heat from the radiation and your body has adapted— yeah you get the rest. (You’re not glowing radiation, it's just your immune system can fight the fungi lol)

I know a lot of people are gonna be rolling their eyes and saying, “why am I immune, goSH, so cliCHE, Y/N? knOWS ASL TOO?? WHY AM I SO SPECIAL?? I want to get bitten and be useless and not connect with anY chAracters–” well pretty thing, you’re one of the main characters! Ofc you’re special, you freaking discovered how to get to the TLOU world, I can’t have you dying on me… yet… silly!

Joel is having internal conflict with literally with his feelings about Ellie and yOU <3 I hope I portrayed that properly and well enough. Lowkey needed to write the miscommunication part because that question of if you were just a replacement for Tess was brewing in the back of your mind. Joel being him can’t fully express his feelings properly, so you settle for the broken sentences he has to offer and piece together the shards to find clues of what he means. Later on, it will be easier for him but for now, you both take baby steps.

But God writing that part had so many revisions and played every single possible scenario in my head— constantly questioning if it was good enough. Like was the thing I was trying to do between the reader and Joel natural and seamless? Did this conflict get resolved at all? Did I do this too soon?? Idk I’m just trying my best and I’m a sucker for Joel giving in bit by bit T^T (i mean i didn't make them kiss yet so I'm assuming wasn’t so rUSHED)

This episode centered around Joel rethinking his relationship with Ellie and YOU hehe. But I did want to give Sam and Henry the spotlight they deserved as well. I tried my best to find the balance in all of this, I hope I didn’t disappoint anyone with this chapter :&lt;<

oKAY INTO EPISODE 6 I GO, time to rewatch the pain again T^T

Grace

TAGLIST:

@memento-mora @elijahssuit @tartiflvtte @lillylilly2 @kyuupidwrites @amethystwonder11 @syd-vixious @kidkrow666 @soulofapatrick @ponyboys-sunsets @superflymaterial @chaotic-imposter @vainbimbo @eva-stark @loki-an-idiot @littleshadow17 @undermoonlightwalk @afternoon-evening @notmysunnydale  @slurmp69 @gyllord @aerangi @mac5323 @friskynotebook @earth-to-lottie @chaotic-imposter @kodzuvk @hawkins-2000 @reallysparklychaos @trust-dreamcatcher @darkened-writer @memeorydotcom @welcomebackfelicia @rainbowpitofdoom @omg-its-typical-aesthetics-fan @marvelsimpcz @dorck26 @evienorville @munsons-queen @little-miss-bi @mxltifxnd0m @ohjoelmiller @coalix @taestrwbrry @avengersheart @gyllord @valentine-babe@missdragon-1 @ponyboys-sunsets @ipadkidsworld @otternanamilolo @issybee0611 @technicallysassyfox @cupcakemachete

[yallemagne]

Fucking stupid notes app lost all my notes on this season I’m going to burn Apple to the ground. 

Episode 1 &2: The Phalanx Covenant

Chuck is so fuckin’ obsessed with fixing Sabretooth that the Phalanx saw that and impersonated Sabretooth to trigger the man’s saviour complex oh my god. 

Warlock!!! I love Warlock!!

Sinister: "THEY TOOK MY RESEARCH!! MY MUTANT TEST SUBJECTS!! MY SAMPLES!!" Beast: "Sinister, people are dying." Sinister: "ALL MY NOTES ON MORPH!!!" Beast: "You're making it so hard not to throw you to the Phalanx."

"Your friends cost me an arm and a leg." Who the fuck are you??

They visit Muir Island and NO ACKNOWLEDGMENT OF MORPH?? Bullshit.

(I'm headcanoning that Morph and Proteus ditched the island to get burgers and avoided getting assimilated. Because they're my silly little pumpkins, that's why.)

Every time Sinister shows up on screen I get angry iopjgerjio and he's here the whole time. The only positive contribution he's had to the mission was throwing Moira off the plane, lol.

Magneto's grown a beard in the interim to communicate he's lost to depression. Saying fuck it to existence until they tell him the Phalanx got Pietro awww.

"Did you lose your humanity when you were assimilated by the Phalanx?" lol yeah. "Or did you have any to begin with?" oh lol you right you right.

They need to stop doing this shit to Wolverine. My poor boy and his metal bones.

I love that Cyclops is so trigger-happy. He does not tolerate Sinister's presence one bit. "Including Sinister! WHERE IS HE?!” With Sinister in the back, skittering away like a fucking roach.

Episode 3 & 4: Storm Front

I hate this creep. Keep your hands off her, Arkon, put a damn shirt on.

Storm: “That cube is causing the bad weather just get rid of it.” Arkon: “NO! I need it.” Wow, wonder who the obvious villain is. They had to take so many braincells from Storm to force this romance. 

EDIT EDIT! I forgot this bullet point! One of the extras is voiced by Morph's voice actor, I can tell from the screams. Morph cameo!

Episode 5: The Fifth Horseman

I hate this new animation style. I was less harsh on it in my previous writeup, but like nah, this style sucks. They yassified Beast, he just has a dude’s face, I hate it. And they gave Jubilee a new haircut and I highly suspect the reasoning is that they didn't think she looked Girl enough.

Cortez shows up and I hate him! Big shocker. 

This episode wasn’t very good. 

Episode 6: Jubilee’s Fairytale Theatre

Jubilee is so responsible!!! Such a good older sibling-type. Also I love how everyone is reinterpreted in her story, it’s funny. Like Gambit’s accent is ten times thicker. 

Longshot cameo! And? Jubilee's foster parents?

There was a rat?? That turned into a guy?? Morph?? We never see them again so I have no clue, but I’m just gonna say Morph cameo. 

Oh no Magneto kinda slays.

The repeated line of Jubilee being able to get out of tight spots is a bit overdone… and then MAGNETO says it and we’re so back bc that’s so fucking funny.

Episode 7: Old Soldiers

You’re never gonna get me on board, show. I’m never gonna believe that Wolverine didn’t have bone claws. It’s stupider if he didn’t have the bone claws. 

(I have been informed that the bone claws are a retcon. Most based retcon ever because, what, you're telling me that just happened on accident?? bc the adamantium claws certainly weren't by design in the show, they were just like "huh, that's weird, didn't expect that". Like what, was Logan just reminiscing in the tube, thinking "if only I had those knuckle knives from that one mission" and fucking manifested claws to break out??? anyway)

Happy that this episode didn’t end with Wolverine swapping spit with that woman. They’re finally showing restraint. But maybe it should have ended with him swapping spit with the Cap. Just saying.

Episode 8: Hidden Agendas

Again: the new art style and designs are objectively worse, the anatomy is all over the place, Sam looks BIZARRE and I know that wasn’t the intent. Like he's not supposed to look like an alien but he does.

ROGUE CALLING HERSELF LEBEAU!!! "I'm taking a vacation from you." *cosplays as his wife* C'mon now, Rogue, make it official.

Love that Sam DIDN’T fall for the shitty creep claiming the X-Men are terrorists, AND he broke out before they could get him with sleeping gas. Dodging shitty clichés left and right.

Episode 9: Descent

Essex: "Would you say humans have escaped the influence of natural selection? And that we as humans should seize our fate and pursue the next stage in evolution?" Darwin: "That's not at all what I'm saying. That sounds very stupid. Next question."

I'm a bit disappointed... So doing research for my fic (yes I'm self-promoting, I'm a whore), I found that Rebecca was the one to call Essex "sinister" after finding out about his experiments... Here it's just kinda said off-hand by Dr. Xavier. It takes the power from the title.

Episode 10: Graduation Day

I really don't get Gyrich's bullshit here. "You defend mutants... YOU must be a mutant!!" Uh yeah, dude. Duh. If they're trying to establish that Charles has been a closeted mutant this whole time, they did a poor job, because nothing in previous episodes ever implied that he was hiding his mutation. I'm choosing to just interpret this as Gyrich being impossibly dumb, thinking he's worked out some mutant conspiracy, meanwhile, he's the last one to come across this very public knowledge about the Professor.

MOOOOORPH!!!!

Logan telling Scott to tell Jean what to do... dog, no one likes a chauvinist.

"Hey, it's a big island, bub. What, are you on the yearbook staff or something?"

"After what they did to Xavier, why do you still fight me?" << revealing his motivation

"Wait, I just realized something. How much do you love Charles Xavier?" "How dare you ask me such a question? He was my only equal. I owe him my life." "What would you do if you knew you were the only one on Earth who could save his life?" "DO NOT PLAY GAMES WITH ME!"

"Wouldn't he do it for you?" YOOOO "Though beware... If he should pass away while connected to you the psychic stress may destroy you, as well." YOOOOOOOOO

"Hello, Magnus. Surely, you have more pressing business to attend to than nursing an old friend." "Nothing more important."

Folks I am EATING this episode. Picture me at dinner with my mother frantically explaining to her that they invented gay marriage. And divorce.

"Morph, it's nice to see you home." YESS IT IS.

Xavier's speech to everyone on the team :,0 watch how hard I can cry.

"Were I your father, I would tell you that no truer son could ever be." Watch tears shoot from my eyes with the destructive power of Scott's eye blasts.

Honestly... so this is a plot twist for me, that they always knew Xavier was alive... I feel a little cheated?? It does ruin the impact of the goodbyes at least a little. If Lilandra had saved Xavier's life in secret or if it was uncertain that the Shi'ar could save him, so there's some plausible deniability, that would make more sense to me. Why do they treat it like he actually died in '97? Why do they enact his will? Couldn't they just say "screw off Magneto, you know Charles isn't actually dead, also you're a fucking criminal, so there's that"?

Season 1

Season 2

Season 3

Season 4

So that's over, huh? I guess y'all'll see me when I watch some other X-Men show. The only issue is that my enjoyment will be severely impaired by Morph not appearing.

[yumiis]

haiii i was wondering if u could do yumi with bipolar reader. im bipolar and saw u r too 🐞🐞

of course. here you go ml <3

｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ ﾟ。 six months ; blake

　 ﾟ･｡･ﾟ

genre; hurt/comfort

type; imagine

tw + a/n // crying, reader has bipolar 2, medication mentions. this is all solely based on what i have gone through since my diagnosis of bipolar 2. i hope this can help comfort some of you.

read below.

Six long, tiresome months of taking those three stupid, little white pills every night at 9pm sharp. Not to calm your nerves. They were for your bipolar disorder, y'know, your lovely personality disorder. The thing you've lived with for years, but only just recently got a name for.

The day you were diagnosed was the day the puzzle pieces finally snapped into place. You finally knew the reason you'd get these bursts of happiness for a day or so, and then quickly spiral back into your depression hole for another two weeks. Bipolar II causes manic depression, manic episodes, or depressive episodes. You've experienced all three of them. None of them were fun.

Sure, when you were manic, you seemed fun. You were easily excitable, ready to do impulsive things, ready to conquer the world, it seemed. It was your brain searching for any strand of happiness. Searching for anything, searching for any kind of adrenaline. You were not happy, you were not ready to take over the world. You were struggling.

Your boyfriend could notice when you were having a manic episode.

"You okay?"

"Nope!" You'd say, in the happiest voice you could muster.

You got up, shaking your hands, stomping around his bedroom and pacing in circles.

Hey, it's okay. Calm down," He spoke in a more stern voice, trying to get your attention. You stared at him, "Calm down? Calm down?! No! I can't!"

Shortly after that, you'd break down in his arms. You didn't know what was wrong with you. You couldn't keep doing this.

That was the night that he suggested maybe looking into seeing a psychiatrist who could prescribe you some medicine to help with your issues. Once you were in a better state of mind, you warmed up to the idea.

That was six months ago. This is now. These medicines have made you numb. Anyone who spoke to you felt like they were speaking to a stack of bricks. Barely any vocal responses, only nods of the head and occasional "mhm"s.

These days, you mostly stayed in bed, aside the days you had to go to work. The days you had to go to work, your boyfriend drove you. The car rides were quiet aside from the music. Some days you'd be nonverbal before work. You couldn't form words. Couldn't find the strength to talk. Couldn't open your mouth. Sometimes the reason was all three. Blake understood that.

One day though, he tried to start a conversation in the car. "Babe?"

"Mmm?"

"Well uh, first, are you verbal?"

You sighed, "Kinda."

"Okay. Is the medicine even helping you? You seem kinda like a.. a fuckin' husk."

"Don't know. All I know is that I can handle a job now."

Blake sighed. "You really don't even need this job.. I make enough for us both, really, if you need anything you can just ask," You stopped him. You hated the thought of him supplying for you. "No, Blake. I'm not making you buy everything for me. That makes me feel all pitiful and useless."

You pulled up to your shitty retail job.

"I get off at 5," You grabbed your bag, "Love you." He nodded, sighing. "Love you too."

You put on your fake smile for every customer that walked through the front doors, checking them all out with a smile. The words "Have a good day!" were ingrained in your head by five in the afternoon.

You had to stay a few minutes late because of a small rush you had, but it wasn't anything too bad. You clocked out, saying bye to your manager, then walking out the front doors. You spotted your boyfriend's Honda, walking over to it and sitting in the passenger side.

"Hey," He spoke softly, "How was your day?"

You shrugged, "Another day."

He sat up a little, this was progress. You normally just groan in response, he was actually getting an answer.

"... Are you hungry? We could go get dinner or somethin'." He suggested. You tilted your head, thinking. You didn't pack a lunch today, but you really weren't hungry, and you didn't get paid til next week. "No, I'm okay. I brought a kinda big lunch." He smiled, you never bring lunch. "Oh! Okay. That's good then."

That's another thing. One of the medicines demolishes your appetite. You're never hungry, even if your body tells you that you are. You haven't eaten a proper meal in days.

You two make it back home. You go to Blake's room, setting your bag down, and lying in his bed. Blake goes up to Tanner, "Dude, they packed lunch today. That's huge for them, they never eat anymore." Tanner laughed, "What the hell are you on about? They didn't pack shit. They were down here all morning before they had to leave," He paused, taking a bite of his burger. "Never packed shit."

His face dropped. So you hadn't eaten, and you lied. "Oh. Uh, never mind. Ignore my dumbass." Blake went up to his room, seeing you on his bed, scrolling through your phone. "Hey.. What'd you pack for lunch? I'm curious." He asked you, picking your brain.

You panicked for a second. "Oh, uh.. I fixed two sandwiches before I got you to bring me." Blake nodded, "Uh huh," He sat down in his desk chair, "That's kinda funny you say that, 'cause we're out of sandwich meat, and Tanner also said you didn't pack anything this morning."

It was days like those where you felt like your boyfriend would leave you, but he never did. He stuck by your side, always. Even if you told white lies, even if you didn't eat, even if you're on medication, even if you cried in his arms, and even if you god damn hated yourself.

You were lying in his arms, crying into his chest. "Hey, breathe.. Breathe.." He softly spoke, cradling your head in his hands. He stroked your hair, pressing a kiss to your cheek. "I'm always gonna help you out, and I'm always fucking here for you. Always."