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miller-n-morgan · 1 day

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And I Feel Fine (.ii)

Joel Miller x Jackson!Reader

18+, mdni

Summary: A new journey lies ahead, and on the very first night you become sure of something that will completely change the trajectory of your entire future.

Warnings: leaving most of the warnings the same because they apply. mentions of death, violence, gore, blood, mentions of sex abuse and trafficking. Mentions of teenage pregnancy. Mention of drugs and substances. Again, literally has ✨️the works.✨️

Word Count: 7k (i'm going absolutely wild)

Now we're cookin'.... enjoy this slice of my brain that I spent entirely too long on. And also know that the first part of the Arthur Morgan series will probably drop this week.

“I ain’t shittin’ you.” You were fine to leave it at that, but he sure as hell wasn’t. For a guy that hated long conversations, he seemed to like poking around in your business. “And what makes you think that?” You honestly didn’t want to tell him. He’s not Tommy, he might make fun of you, might store away the information later on and use it against you. You have no idea, actually. You don’t know him.

Your contact had gotten you to an apartment. It was worn down, just as every other place in the QZ seemed to be, but it was better taken care of. The people living here must have been attentive about the appearance of their home. A good enough family to leave your baby with.

She stopped you in the hallway, knocking three times on the old wood door, hearing a lively voice from the otherside before it opened. The woman standing there was lovely, about thirty or so, a half smile on her face when she saw you both had arrived. This plan had been in the works for some time now.

“Hello, I’m Maxine Williams,” she greeted, reaching for your hand to shake. You did your best to match her kind and infectious energy, giving her a smile in return. She is after all going to be doing you the favor of a lifetime.

“It’s nice to meet you,” you replied, keeping your head low between your shoulders, though you felt comfortable in her presence.

She leaned into your contact, turning her head, but you heard the whisper “She’s so young…”

“S’why she needs help.”

You understood that this didn’t look right. You should not be pregnant at your tender age, should not have been put in this position. You’ve seen more horrific things than any person ever should, and it all started when you were eight… outbreak day.

“Of course… come in, both of you.”

The pleasantries went on for a while, exchanging information of where you came from, why you were in this area, what you did before being in Boston. She mentioned her husband, her two sons and their love for older things, wishing for the world the way it was. It was all just small talk, leading up to the actual conversation topic: the baby she was about to take off your hands.

“You’ll stay with us until the birth, if that’s okay,” she offered, but it sounded more like a demand. It wasn’t a harsh or cruel one. Even if you slept on the rickety couch you were lounging upon now, it would be better than camping in the woods, sleeping on the hard ground like you’d been doing only a month ago.

“I’ll do whatever you want me to.”

Your contact was happy to see both ends so receptive. She’d never seen a deal containing human life go down this smoothly. Probably because this was a bit more sensitive of an exchange.

“Good… that’s good. I’ve heard you’re interested in a closed adoption?”

You glanced down at your stomach, feeling the weight of it, crushing inwards on the rest of your body. Having this baby and giving it away will relieve the weight both physically and metaphorically. They’ll be in good hands, better than your own could ever be.

“I think it’s probably best. I used to have siblings, but I never really took care of them… I’m not sure I could do this,” You shook your head. You saw her younger son peeking his head out of the bedroom door in the corner, backing away as soon as you caught him. Even in an apocalypse, a child can be happy… just not with you. “I want to give them their best chance.”

“I understand… and we’re going to do our best to make sure they have a normal childhood,” she responded, leaning forward and placing a comforting hand on your knee.

“Thank you…”

You had sat down on one of the containment units, feeling as though the adrenaline rush from the ambush was beginning to wear off. Tommy found Maria not far away from where you were sitting, and began to ask his special favor. It was crazy, he knew it, you knew it… but it had to be done. This girl was somehow important, to the fireflies and to all of mankind, and you were starting to wonder why. Joel hadn’t said a word, sitting across from you and awaiting the news that would surely come from his brother’s discussion with his wife.

“So, you’ve been traveling with Ellie?”

He looked up at you from his boot laces, his eyes were heavy, and he didn’t seem in the mood to talk. He was grumpy in nature, but you could tell there was more underneath the tough exterior.

“I have.” And no further explanation was given.

You didn’t think it was best to keep trying your luck, keep on asking him questions. He wasn’t the talking type and you figured you’d be wasting your time… but speak of the devil, Ellie came up to him just as the conversation between Tommy and Maria was getting heated.

“What’s that all about?” She nodded in their direction. She looked scared, like a deer caught in headlights, just not as frozen. Wide eyed and unable to look away from the scene. “Does that have anything to do with me?”

She was smart, she’d pick up on the words they were saying - more like yelling - to each other. The context clues were there, Joel would have to be an idiot to think she’d just let him off the hook.

“We’ll talk about it later…” he grumbled, his annoyance already at a high from your unimportant questions and the fighting in the background.

“Did he tell you where the lab is?” She asked, her eyebrows furrowing as she got even closer to hear them.

The lab? Is that where the fireflies would be? You vaguely remember the days you spent with the resistance group, but you don’t remember anything about a lab…

“We’ll talk about it later,” he repeated himself, almost as a warning.

She turned to Tommy and Maria, then back to Joel, her face one of distrust and sadness. She knew, she could tell. Joel was trying to get rid of her.

You wanted to say something, to jump in and tell her that she didn’t need to be scared, didn’t need to be worried about where she was going. That you would go with her and it would be okay… but that wouldn’t help a damn thing. Even if you turn out to be her biological mother, you are most definitely not her mom, and cannot console her as one.

“Later… right,” she trailed, backing away from Joel and off to another sectional of the checkpoint.

Joel looked back to you, your eyes already on him.

He sighed, at first not saying a word… but when he made a full rotation of his eyeline and you were still staring holes into him, he had to speak up.

“If you’re lookin’ to judge me, then just-.”

“I’m not.”

Your interruption cut him off, and he didn’t really know what else to say. He nodded, not looking away from you, but rather trying to figure out what it is you needed from him. Your stare was not discomforting but it felt demanding. It wanted something.

“How long have you known her?” You finally spit out, tucking a leg under your elbow as you sat back. You knew you’d gotten his attention, now.

“Few months, now. I’m supposed to take her to the fireflies as a favor to someone.”

“What do the fireflies want with a fourteen year old kid?”

He sighed, raising his shoulders in a shrug like he didn’t know. He must’ve been lying, right? You’d gotten pretty good at reading people, but for some reason you couldn’t tell with him. Maybe you just didn’t know him well enough…

“M’not really sure. All I knew in the beginning was that I could get paid pretty well, so I took her.”

You nodded. He didn’t seem like the person that did things for the sake of them, Tommy had told you stories about him, the things he used to do. If it was for his survival, he’d do it… but just for the sake of getting paid? When barely anything left had real monetary value? It sounded like bullshit.

“She seems to trust you an awful lot,” you gestured between him and the empty space she’d left.

There was another beat of silence, to which he didn’t use for reply. Instead he sat, his back curled over and his shoulders sunken inwards. He was tired, he was worn. He needed to rest, but this life wouldn’t let him.

“She knows you’re handing her off…”

“I reckon she does, yeah.”

And right over your shoulder you heard the climax of Tommy and Maria’s argument. She held a pointed finger in his face, before he finally insisted on Joel’s plan. She couldn’t move him. He was going to do this whether she liked it or not… which is something you haven’t seen out of Tommy for years. Joel must mean a hell of a lot to him, to up and leave Maria on a dangerous errand like this.

You stay seated when Maria walks over to Joel, and then when Joel stands up to talk to Tommy. You stay seated and think… I can keep Tommy safe. I’ve got nothing to lose, and everything to gain from learning about this girl. I can bring him home to Maria, even if it means my life.

But you immediately stand when you hear Tommy’s rapid speech. “That girl of yours. she took one of our horses and rode off,” and then he glanced at you with an eyeroll. “She took provoker…”

You huffed a sigh, following the men over to the front of the sectional, the open trail up ahead. Maria was mad at Tommy, so obviously she wouldn’t be accompanying them… and that left you. Casper didn’t like men.

“Damnit, which way?” Joel asked, his steps were heavy on the muddy ground.

“I just saw her riding out of here!” Terry yelled, loosening the reins on two more horses he’d brought over for assistance.

“Alright, get back inside, help the others clean the place up,” Tommy told the man, nodding for you to mount the back of his horse after he’d climbed up himself. You chanced a look at Joel, riding across from you both. His face was mixed with anger and determination, and it reminded you of what Tommy looked like after hours of hunting. They were the epitome of brothers, though you’d never met the other half before.

You all followed the tracks, leading every which way it seemed. Some of the tracks were fresh, and some were older, but it was hard to tell when the grounds here were moist all the time, never really drying up and creating lasting prints on the dirt.

After a while of riding, and running into some raiders - who were easily fended off - you saw your horse standing in front of an old farmhouse, the reins tied to a pole holding up the roof of the porch. You jumped from Tommy’s mare and ran up to Casper, petting his mane and making sure he was alright. There didn’t seem to be a scratch on him.

You watched Joel enter the house, waiting back with Tommy. Even though Joel was the one she ran away from, you couldn’t imagine she’d be thrilled to see you or Tommy instead. Joel had a good reason to do what he did. He didn’t feel strong enough or fast enough for this job anymore. He didn’t feel like he could keep her safe. You unfortunately understood that feeling a little too well, and if you were correct on your suspicions, it would have been with the exact same kid.

Tommy unstrapped his gun from his back, holding it steady and watching the surroundings whilst he leaned against the porch beam you were standing by. He was trying to gage whether or not your horse was calm enough for him to approach you closer, knowing what would happen if he wasn’t.

“I think you’re right, you know…” He trailed, his voice quiet on the off chance of an open window.

“You do?”

You turned to him, you didn’t exactly have to think twice about what he meant.

“Yeah,” he nodded, a chuckle falling from his lips. “It makes sense… the timing n’ everything. She looks a hell of a lot like you… and she’s caused about as much trouble today as the first time I met you.”

“Causing trouble is genetic?” You laughed, your eyes watering a bit at the implications he made. She might be yours. Your daughter, who you didn’t think you’d see again.

“Hell, it might be. Your kinda trouble, anyway… stealin’ horses and shit.”

The nod of your head was slow, the thought of this all sinking in. It made perfect sense and yet coming to terms with the facts of ‘it is’ instead of ‘it could be’ makes you feel light headed.

You didn’t know if he was being serious or if he was just trying to make you feel better, but the look on his face told you the former. He wouldn’t just lie to you, he knew you could read him.

“I keep turning it over in my head, tryin’ to think of ways I could prove it to myself… I think just seein’ her was enough for me. I’m remembering things I thought I forgot about a long time ago.”

Now it was his turn to nod, but your moment was caught short when you heard a branch snap around the corner. You instinctively pulled your gun from your pants, holding it out in the direction the snap came from. Tommy raised his rifle, doing the same and gesturing for you to go inside. You both made it in the doorway before the threat made itself known. Two guys, coming around the corner. They hadn’t realized you were watching them yet, but they did a quick scan, making sure there wasn’t any immediate danger.

“Get upstairs,” he said in a whisper, but you snapped your head to face him.

“No way, the odds are even if I stay,” you argued, but he wasn’t exactly in the mood for a fight right now. It was too risky to have you both down here.

“Go tell Joel to get his ass down here, you stay up with the kid.”

“Like hell I’m going up there. Your brother scares me,” you say in a half joking mumble, keeping watch on the two strangers that were now surrounding your horse. They were about to get kicked in the ass if they didn’t step away.

Tommy realizes that them being distracted gives a good amount of time to leave without cover.

“Alright, but you first,” he shrugged a shoulder towards the staircase, and with one last glance to your horse, you left your corner by the window.

You quickly ran up the stairs, ducking a head in a few rooms before finding the one Joel and Ellie were in.

“Get it together, we’re not alone,” Tommy said as soon as you got inside the door.

“I got two walking in,” Joel leaned towards the sliding window to get some eyes on the situation.

“There’s more inside already…”

You backed against the door, Tommy against the dresser on the opposite side. Joel stepped over in front of you, and Ellie behind Tommy. You didn’t realize until now, but taking a glance at Ellie, she looked even worse than when she left. Her face was sullen and her head was dropped. She didn’t seem to be snapping into reality, even with the weight of the situation.

You stayed by her throughout the house, when Tommy and Joel started shooting, you stood in front of her, covering them from back behind. It was weird, these maternal feelings that had never sparked within you before, only now arising for this specific human that had no clue who you were.

Once outside, it seemed strange. The dynamic between the four of you was so incredibly awkward. Everyone was thinking on a different topic, and the silence could echo on for miles. You nodded for Ellie to mount the back of your horse, since she didn’t seem comfortable to ride with Joel for the time being. She climbed up behind you and for a second you smiled, because this is your daughter, you know it… but soon after, your mind quickly succumbed to the general silence.

The nature and scenery surrounding you seemed to be duller than before, the pretty autumnal colors becoming ugly in the sense that you didn’t appreciate them right now. You loved the beginning of fall, but the feelings spread among you are tense and terrible, worse than raking up the fallen leaves before winter.

The feeling never leaves, it stays until you all reach the edge of the town.

“I’m not hungry,” you swore, shoving the extra plate of food away from your placemat.

Manxine’s husband was hungry, and you’d noticed him and his wife being decent enough to give you some of their food the past few days. It wasn’t necessary, because you weren’t working, and you weren’t barely helping them. They were helping you, and you couldn’t be more grateful. Taking extra food that wasn’t just lying around felt like stealing. You’d never been a stranger to it before, but these people were far too kind, too gentle. They made you feel like maybe the world wasn’t completely at its end. It still turned, and people were still good, despite everything.

“Yes you are, and you should be,” Maxine pushed the plate back in front of you. Her goal had been to ‘put a little meat on your bones’ as long as you were under her roof.

“I’m fine, I promise.”

“Promise or no promise, you need to eat more. You’re still too thin to try and survive childbirth, ya hear?” She put the old fork back into your open hand, and you sighed. It was sometimes hard to eat more than you normally did, on the account of your body not being used to it. If you ate more than usual would it make you sick? If you threw up the extra rations they were spotting you, you’d feel terrible, but she kept insisting.

You opened your mouth to take a bite, swallowing it down and feeling the slight discomfort start to settle. Already you’d been eating a lot more than before the QZ, and you didn’t realize how slowly your appetite would have to grow.

After a few more bites you had to drop the fork to your plate, feeling too full already to keep on. You felt terrible, refusing extra portions that were meant to keep you healthy. Whether or not it was caused by the pregnancy hormones, or just your own emotional breakdown, you weren’t sure… but you started tearing up while sitting at the table.

“I’m sorry,” you shook your head, covering your mouth and sitting back while the tears rolled down.

“Don’t you apologize, sweetheart,” Maxine uttered softly, her presence at your side immediately.

To her, none of this effort was wasted, or overdone. She and her husband, though some of the better off people in the QZ by job merritt, couldn’t seem to have another baby. It wasn’t for the lack of trying, or stress that they couldn’t afford it. It was simply the fact that after six years from their last child, they couldn’t conceive another. This baby, your baby, was going to be a gift to them. They were happy to take any necessary steps into getting you to childbirth.

“I just can’t eat anymore,” you tried to justify your emotions, but now it only looked like an overreaction. People are dying without food, and here you are, crying about there being too much.

“It’s alright. Leftovers don’t go to waste in this house,” she spoke, a bit of a chuckle in her tone, which alleviated some of the pressure you felt.

“Okay,” you nodded, letting her take your plate to the other room, likely where her husband had retired to.

The campfire was crackling, the smoke filling the hazy navy color of the dark sky. Trees had covered it mostly, but there were a few stars peaking here and there. You’d just finished a can of chicken soup, tossing it on the pile that had been started by the others. It was crazy, how you suddenly remembered so much, just by eating food out of a can again. Days on the run, with the fireflies, being a raider even… it all came back.

It had only been a few hours or so since leaving Jackson, but after the fiasco of today, the three of you had gotten extremely tired a lot earlier than you should have.

The three of you meaning: Yourself, Joel and Ellie.

After the silence of the horse ride back to the commune, something had changed. Joel realized not only what Ellie meant to him, but what he means to Ellie. He’d decided Tommy was no longer required, and that he could fare the journey on his own. Of course, you immediately volunteered an extra pair of hands and a quick gun as assistance. To your surprise, it was Ellie who was your greatest advocate. Her, and the fact that you remembered the lab’s location, could probably get her there on your own if you had to.

The mirror building… you don’t remember it being a lab, but as soon as Tommy said the words it jogged your memory.

Now you were here, sitting with your back against a log, and staring holes into the shoulder of a fourteen year old girl.

“Whatch’u lookin’ at?” Joel asked, his arms crossed over his chest as he lazily reclined against a tree.

You only looked away for a second, too fixated on what was just barely peeking over the collar of Ellie’s shirt and jacket. It had fallen down a bit when she laid down to sleep.

“Nothin’,” you shrugged it off. He was a man of few words, surely he’d drop it on account of having to speak more if he didn’t… but God help him, he’s like a damn cat, his curiosity could kill him.

“You’re very focused on nothin’,” he teased. There was something off about you with Ellie, he’d taken notice of it. He didn’t know what it was about but it didn’t seem like a danger.

You rolled your eyes over to him, but could tell by his glance back that he wouldn’t quit. He’d already volunteered to take the first watch, and he had nothing else better to do.

“It’s a long story, you’d get bored.”

But again, he had nothing better to do.

“Try me,” he raised his shoulders in a shrug of his own. He seemed much more docile of a creature in this setting. The early hours of night, so quiet, and dimly lit. His voice was gentle and his features were soft. He was relaxed.

You took a deep inhale, trying to brace yourself for whatever came of this. He was a fresh face, someone new to explain an old wound to. The scar had finally healed and you were about to dig a blade back through and rip it open… but you suppose you’d sharpened the knife by coming along in the first place.

“I think Ellie’s my daughter,” you breathed out, not checking for a reaction until he’d been silent too long. His eyes were narrow, and he tilted his head, looking between you two. She was fast asleep by now, but he had a picture of her in his head, comparing it to you.

“You’re shittin’ me, right?”

You blew out another long breath, shaking your head and rolling your eyes. He doesn’t get it. He doesn’t know this feeling you have or the fact that you’ve never felt it before. He doesn’t understand that you’d come to peace with the fact that you’d never see her again, and then she appeared like a ghost from your past. You thought she was your past self at first, taunting you, making fun of who you were now.

“I ain’t shittin’ you.”

You were fine to leave it at that, but he sure as hell wasn’t. For a guy that hated long conversations, he seemed to like poking around in your business.

“And what makes you think that?”

You honestly didn’t want to tell him. He’s not Tommy, he might make fun of you, might store away the information later on and use it against you. You have no idea, actually. You don’t know him.

You let your eyes flick up to the stars, hoping by some miracle they will fall from the heavens in the form of angels to give you a message, that message being: shut the fuck up and don’t spill your guts to a man you met this morning.

“When I was thirteen, I was by myself. I fell into a weird group of people that could probably be considered a cult. There was this one guy that treated me better than the others…” you trailed off, not sure if you’re ready to rehash all of this. But it’s been a long time since you talked about it. You need to get it off your chest if you’re to somehow make a relationship with the product of your past. “He was in his twenties, so a lot younger than most people in the group. Pretty sure I was the youngest. I didn’t realize he was using me.”

Joel was tense, but not because he was uncomfortable… he was genuinely invested. Wanted to know this story and how it connected with Ellie. His Ellie.

“We left the group, and I found out I was pregnant a few months later. I’d barely had my cycle a fucking year… wasn’t even sure what it meant when I didn’t get it. Anyways,” you had to stifle a laugh, because just looking back… what the actual hell? You kept blinking to make sure no tears escaped in front of this man. You weren’t there yet with him. “I think he just lost all interest in me after that. He didn’t really speak to me unless it was necessary, and wouldn't look at me. Stuff like that.”

But that wasn’t the worst part, and Joel knew you were working your way up to it.

“Before I was pregnant I used to sneak into places most people couldn’t. I was real skinny like that. Was able to smuggle stuff in and out of different QZs across the country. We peddled rare narcotics for the most part… but I had to stop when I, you know…” you made a round hand motion around your stomach, hoping he got the jist. “I didn’t fit in the smaller spaces.”

“What kind of narcotics?” Joel finally asked a question, and it wasn’t really the one you were hoping for… but you understood he’d probably fallen into the same scheme over the years.

“Vicodin, mostly. Up in Princeton there was this one apartment… we’d searched it top to bottom because of how many secret hiding places there were. Vicodin everywhere. Whoever lived there was either severely addicted or preparing for the worst.”

“Maybe both.”

Yeah, probably. Damn shame he never got to use them.

“We used it as a trading token most of the time. It was actually what got us into Boston,” you waved off your tangent eventually, getting back to the story and where Ellie came in. “Pretty much gave the rest of our stash to a contact we had there… she got us a family we could hand the baby off to.”

And now he got it. You’d been knocked up by a predator, and said predator wanted you to give up the baby so he could go about using you some more. He’d seen and done some cruel things in a post apocalyptic world, but he would never stoop that low, and grimaced at anyone who possibly could.

“I had her when I was fourteen. Lookin’ at her today was like looking in a mirror,” you rambled on, still not quite to your point. “She’s the right age, from the right location… and that birthmark on her shoulder…”

He hadn’t even noticed it all this time. Months with the kid, and he thought nothing of it. But to you, it was clarification. It was the confirming piece of evidence that pulled it all together. You’d barely taken your eyes off of it since you saw it. You wanted to make sure you weren’t seeing things. Wanted to make sure it was the right shape and placement, just so you could be sure.

He nodded, seemingly coming to this conclusion now, too. It didn’t take him any more convincing. It was clear by now that your hunch was not just a hunch.

“Her dad, he still… around?”

You shook your head with a light hearted laugh.

“No,” and you could have left it with that simple answer… but that was never much your style. “I shot him in the head.”

His low whistle cut the air, and you almost felt proud. You’d killed the one thing in life that ever hurt you directly.

“He deserved worse.”

“Yeah, he did.”

And then it was quiet for a minute, all the words the two of you had spoken up until now were rotating over and around in your heads to make sense of them, until he spoke up again.

“I’m sorry,” he nearly whispered.

“S’okay. Not your fault…” you shook it off. It’s in the past, it’s done.

“Not yours either,” he replied, raising a brow to you. “M’just, sorry you went through that.”

He was soft, he was gentle. You supposed he was like Tommy. He didn’t judge you or make you feel inferior because of your tragic mishappenings. He just listened, and felt sympathy.

“I don’t mind it so much now… I got her back.”

And both your gazes shifted to the sleeping teenager, her breaths steady with the humming of the night around you. She has no clue, and for now you’ll have to keep it that way.

Yeah, you think… I got her back.

It only took two weeks. Riding, eating, sleeping, and talking, rinse and repeat. There was the odd occasion of dealing with infected, but they were never in large groups, and cleared out easily.

You remembered exactly where to go when you entered the city limits, guiding them towards the college campus you once lived in as a firefly. It was almost ten years ago, but you remember it pretty well. It’s where you met Tommy. Not in the lab, obviously. You’d both been put on security detail one morning, having never met beforehand. He proceeded to ‘teach you’ how to shoot a rifle properly, only to find you could hit a perfect bullseye on your first shot. Probably because your dad was a man who loved his guns, and you’d been shooting one since you were a kid before the outbreak. He laughed about it, and you two were friends ever since.

“Are you getting any of this?” Ellie asked you, pulling you from your thoughts as you rode alongside them.

For the last hour, Joel was attempting - and failing - to explain the rules of football to the young Miss Ellie. And she didn’t understand one lick of it, not that you blame her. You’d been to actual football games in your youth, but you couldn’t get it even then.

“Nope, I was always more of a baseball fan…” you trailed, and smiled at the thought. Baseball was fun, you remember it well. It was your biggest obsession right before ballet, and right after fingerpainting.

“Oh really, now?” Joel cut in, his surprise evident in his raised eyebrow and tilted gaze in your direction.

“Yep. You’re looking at the MVP of the Acorn’s jr. little league team.”

Ellie laughed. She didn’t know a thing about baseball either. She’d seen some old collectors cards though here and there. Apparently they used to be valuable. They were only knick knacks to anyone who saw them now.

“What position did you play?”

“Shortstop… or second base, technically. No shortstop in jr. little league,” you admitted. Your dad always called you shortstop, so that’s what you tell people now. Anyone who asks, at least. You can count on one hand the number of people who have.

“Seein’ you around infected… I bet you swung like hell,” he chuckled. Ellie was still confused about the rules of the last sport, much less how to play this one… but she listened intently because Joel was interested, so she was interested too.

“I always got on base, didn’t always stay there, but always got on. Plus, I was the only kid who never picked their nose at the plate, so… Obviously I earned my title.”

“That must’ve been an amazing accomplishment. How old were you?”

From what he understood, you’d been eight on outbreak day. You couldn’t have been too much younger to have started a sport, right?

“Probably six or seven at the time. I did ballet after, had kind of a short attention span when it came to after school activities,” you explained, a smile on your cheeks when you spoke about the things you used to love doing. You probably would still like doing some of them, had they been an option in Jackson.

“I know about ballet!” Ellie jumped in, nearly scaring Joel off the horse. “That’s the dancers that used to wear those weird shoes and shit.”

“Pointe shoes?” You chuckled, more at Joel trying to compose himself than Ellie’s funny recollection of footwear.

“Yeah, those. They looked like torture devices in some of the paintings I saw… did you ever wear any?”

“No, I would have had to train for about five more years to have gotten to that point. That was the dream at the time, to be a pointe ballerina. Of course, the end of the world happened…”

Joel turned to you from his forwards facing stare, a sadness in his eyes before he looked back onto the road ahead of him. Was that… pity? You were slowly learning to read him, his little mannerisms and tells that made him like everyone else, yet just a tad different, in a way that only he could be.

“Maybe after all this is over you can teach me some steps,” she suggested, but you scoffed.

“Maybe,” you shook your head at how funny the thought sounded in your head. You’d only danced for what? Ten months at most? And as an eight year old? “I think you’ll probably be too busy with Joel’s guitar lessons.”

She laughed it off, shaking her head and leaning it back onto Joel’s shoulder in front of her. The three of you kept along until reaching the building you remembered, but instantly it was a disappointment. The fireflies weren’t here, and likely hadn’t been for over a year.

“This isn’t right. There should be a checkpoint set up and a security blockade surrounding the place,” you mentioned, getting off your horse and running up to the door in the front. You peeked inside, and there was no sign of life anywhere.

“You’re kidding,” Ellie grumbled.

Joel dismounted the horse and followed after you, looking around and trying to find any signs that they might have been here at all.

“You sure this is the right place?”

“Positive. I remember this building, I met Tommy right over there,” you pointed down the sidewalk, where a half torn down barricade of cement was still sitting, but just barely. You walked to the corner of the crumbling stairs and grabbed a piece of old broken up brick, chucking it through the front door in order to unlock it.

Joel chuckled for a moment at your frustration, watching the scene play out.

“Baseball… right,” he teased, leading the way inside with you and Ellie in tow.

Maxine’s boys were at Fedra school. Her husband was at work in a different sector. Maxine herself was trading ration cards for supplies. It was the first time she’d left the apartment since you’d been there, and of all days, of all mornings for it to happen… your water broke.

You were alone, and scared. You weren’t allowed to leave the apartment for fear of the neighbor’s suspicion. Maxine’s family would be torn apart by Fedra if anyone found out what was going on, so no matter how terrified you were, you couldn’t risk going outside for help.

“Not now,” you cried, the tension in the pit of your stomach slowly turning to pain when your first contraction started. “Please, kid, I’m begging.”

You suck down against the wall of the living room, trying to find a sitting position that doesn't kill you from the pain. You wished more than anything you had some of those pain pills left over from the exchange, but they would probably only hurt you right now.

“Please, don’t,” you tried to even your breathing, the tears crawling down your cheeks at a fastening rate. “I can’t do this…”

The walls were closing in, you weren’t prepared for this. It didn’t seem to be the right time, either… but it was happening, and there was absolutely nothing you could do to stop it. The baby was coming, and if you wanted to live to see another day, you were going to have to get your head straight, and push it out of you.

You didn’t know how long you’d have, but from the time your water broke to the last contraction, things were moving relatively quickly. You were still on the ground against the wall, biting down on the sleeve of your shirt to try and not make noise.

You hoped and prayed that you would not deliver this baby on your own, but it looked like that was your only option right now. They had all left around an hour ago, they would be gone all day.

“I don’t know what to do, kid… help me out here,” you cried out again, but the baby didn’t exactly listen. You felt more weight bearing down on your lower half by the minute, and all you could do was panic.

It had happened so fast, the attack. Too fast, nothing you guys could have prepared for. It was all within minutes, and the ringing in your ears following your last gunshot seemed to put everything in slow motion. The way Ellie was yelling but you couldn’t hear it, the man that was coming up from behind you, and the one that was wrestling with Joel near the edge of the rail.

Too fast, the man on your rear grabbed at you and pulled backwards, keeping you from being able to stop Joel’s attacker… You got trapped in a headlock, a gun to your temple, and another man was about to get Ellie. Joel and his attacker broke through the railing, tumbling over the edge and falling into God knows what. You sunk deadweight in the man’s arms, letting Ellie shoot him with her raised gun before you shot the man coming for her.

She ran to the edge first, freezing as she looked down. You followed and peered over, unsure what you would see.

“Shit,” you lowered yourself to a sitting position before scooting off the edge and dropping down to where he was. Your voice was in a panic “Joel?”

He was alive, but fatally injured if you didn’t get him out of here right now.

“I’m gonna need you to pull,” he managed to get out through gritted teeth. His face was scrunched in pain, and you knew better than anyone how hard it was to stay quiet when you’re hurting that bad.

“You could bleed out,” you shook your head, kneeling down and flinging off your backpack. Digging through, you only have the most basic of supplies… nothing substantial enough to stop mass amounts of blood, or, worst case scenario, a deadly infection.

“Just pull, damnit,” he grunted, offering his hand.

By now Ellie had come down, watching in fear as the only figure of importance in her life was nearly on his deathbed. It couldn’t be exaggerated because it really was that bad. He could drop down at any moment and never get back up, but he kept pushing on.

You did as he asked, hoisting him to a stand, letting him lean on you for support. Ellie went on ahead, leading the way as she cleared the place with her own gun. You had to assist here and there, unwilling to let Ellie get shot on account of holding Joel up on his feet.

It was practically a miracle that any of you made it outside. Your horse had already taken care of a raider, it seemed, the man lying unconscious on the ground behind him. He likely got to close, touched him, even. Ellie shot the last obstacle standing between you and an escape, and once he was cleared, you mounted your horses, helping Joel onto his, first.

You rode in front of them, looking for a place to take shelter. Looking for an empty house, or gas station even. Anything would work, as long as it was safer than here. You rode for miles down the road, unsure if there were people in the area. You’d finally reached a neighborhood of substantial size, with no signs of life or proof of human activity.

But before you could even find a safe shelter…

“Joel? Joel!”

And you quickly turned around. Joel fell off the horse, out like a light.

Tags: @orcasoul

#joel miller #reader insert #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel tlou #the last of us #joel

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dadvans · 15 hours

Text

tease tidbit tuesday

tagged by @tiltingheartand, thank you! from an almost finished Tommy POV

They go surfing. Well, Evan surfs, and Tommy just kind of chills from the beach and gets a nice tan. It’s fun to watch Evan show off. He’s still baby deer nervous sometimes with Tommy, like he’s relearning how to walk, or like Tommy is the proctor of a Good Bisexual test, and Evan’s trying a little too hard to pass. But on the water it all fades away as all the overthinking he does melts off him, riding down the line.

He comes out of the water goofy on endorphins after a few waves and collapses cold and wet from the ocean on Tommy, who is warm and dry on his towel, smothering him with a kiss.

“You sure you don’t want a lesson? I’ve been told I’m a very capable teacher,” Evan says, voice dripping suggestively. “Worked my way up and down a few coastlines, you know.”

Tommy likes this side of Evan when Evan lets it out. Maybe they need to go to the beach more, even if he doesn’t really care about getting in the water. “Nah, I’d be shark bait out there.”

Evan rolls his eyes and zips open his wetsuit, peeling it off so the arms hang loose at his hips. “Chances of a shark attack are less than one in three million. You have a higher chance of getting struck by lightning.”

“Should I be worried about you then?” One of the first things Tommy learned about Evan before he really knew him was that the kid was kind of a disaster magnet. What’s the probability of being bitten by a shark when you’ve already been struck by lightning?

“You don’t need to worry about me, not out there anyway,” Evan says with a gentle tilt of his head toward the ocean. He’s delusional. Tommy likes him so much. “Kind of feel like you might have jinxed a second ride out today though. Wanna get lunch instead?”

They wind up at the good kind of greasy seaside bar. Tommy gets the fish tacos that came recommended, but Evan is making love to an oyster po’ boy with his mouth.

“You know,” Evan says, licking at the mayo clinging to the corner of his lips, “I totally fell for the idea of being a pick up artist when I heard about it in high school. Always tried finding new ways to get with girls. I read up on aphrodisiacs once.”

“Are you trying to seduce me, Evan Buckley?” Tommy asks wryly, staring at the half-chewed fried oyster hanging out of his sandwich.

“Nah, turns out it’s all bullshit. Found that out after I took my prom date to this seafood place and ordered us a dozen raw in the half shell thinking maybe I’d get lucky. I looked up at her after slurping down three of them, and you should’ve seen the look on her face. I thought she was gonna puke.”

Tommy snorts the sip of water he was taking back out onto the bar.

“The only natural aphrodisiac I can think of that isn’t like”—Evan lifts his own beer—“or a party drug is ambergris, which is kind of like whale shit, but not really. It’s illegal in the states though.”

“Evan, I’m eating,” Tommy says, but he’s laughing.

Evan, oblivious, continues, “They say it smells like shit on its own too, but something about it has them putting it in perfumes. I can’t remember what. Can you imagine if I showed up caked in whale shit for a date though?”

Tommy looks at him and Evan stares back, smile half-knowing and all hopeful, waiting for anything Tommy is willing to give him.

Just for that, Tommy doesn’t call bullshit. He says, “You think you’re hilarious,” and Evan shrugs, happily taking another bite of his po’ boy.

tagging: @thekookster @plethoriall @marmolita @al-the-remix @rcmclachlan

#delaney writes #bucktommy #911 abc #wip

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arminswife12 · 2 days

Text

MATCHING PIERCINGS

Chris x reader

Warnings: mentions of needles

Summary: Chris and ready get their eyebrows pierced together for vlog.

A/n: guys ik this is bad im BEGGING FOR FEEDBACK PLSSS. Also I don’t see enough Chris fluff. Also this is kinda inspired by Tara yummy’s vid of her getting her eyebrow pierced I just borrowed a few things she’s said about her experience!

I woke up scared and excited I had mixed feelings about the events that were gonna happen in a few minutes. Chris and I were gonna get matching eyebrow piercings but I have a low pain tolerance. I have multiple ear piercings but I’ve passed out for some of them. It wasn’t that bad I’m just scared and excited about it.

Chris and I started getting ready I put on one of Chris’s fresh love hoodies still being able to smell his cologne and I also decided to throw on some black shorts. Today was a Tuesday which meant the triplets were going to film a vlog video. They decided to add Chris and I getting pierced into the vlog.

I was done getting ready so I decided to go into the kitchen of the triplets’ house and I was met with Nick already pointing a camera to my face. “Say hi to the vlog y/n!” I waved at the camera with a smile as I got a Dr Pepper from the fridge. The triplets and I were close especially because I was dating Chris but we were really close before that too. We hung out almost everyday except when they were busy filming and doing other stuff like meeting creators.

I had a platform of my own just not as big as theirs. I am happy with having a small following since people get hated on as a soon and they get a huge following and attention and I wouldn’t have the time to handle that.

“Are you guys ready” I hear from behind me as Matt plays with the keys in his hands. “Yeah I’ll be there in a second!” Chris yells

“So how are you feeling y/n?” Nick asks as he points the camera towards me. “Scared but excited since I’ve been thinking of getting this piercing for a long time and I’m also happy Chris is doing this with me, I have no idea how I convinced him”

“I’m surprised you were able to convince him tbh” Matt lets out with a giggle.

Timeskip

We were on our way to the piercing shop and the reality of what was happing finally set in. Nick was keeping the vlog updated as we were only 4 minutes away from the shop.

Matt pulled into the shop and Nick started vlogging and I waited for Chris to get out the car so I could hold his hand. I clung onto Chris’s side since I was nervous. “Don’t worry I’ll be there the whole time” Chris says. Hearing those words gives me all the comfort I need.

I was first up to get the piercing as Nick was recording and Chris was holding my hand and rubbing my thumb to comfort me. The piercer got all the stuff she needed. “Hi! My names Lily and I’m gonna be your piercer, I’m just gonna talk you through it okay!” She was so sweet and was making me less nervous I closed my eyes as she was feeling my eyebrow “okay breathe in and… out” I did as she said and the needle went through

“Wow you did it!!” Said Nick as he was giggling behind the camera “shut up it’s done??” I questioned since it felt like nothing. “Yeah you’re all done let me just put in your jewelry!” As soon as the jewelery was done I switched spots with Chris now holding his hand for support. Chris went through the same process ans Nick was recording everything up close. “Nick back up!” Chris said as he felt the camera close to his face. We giggled at his comment “Matt you should get a piercing too”

“No thank you my ears are enough” he said with a giggle.

We left the shop and decided to get something to eat since we haven’t eaten anything “we look so cool” I said to Chris as he agreed.

#christopher sturniolo #fiction #matt sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #nick sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #girls with piercings #chris x reader #chris fluff #chris sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #vlog #eyebrow piercing #tara yummy

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the-xolotl · 4 hours

Text

What I think your Hazbin Hotel fav says about you

Pt. I ; Charlie, Vaggie, Alastor, Lucifer, Angel

A/N: these are entirely my opinions based on what each of the characters have meant for me. i’m a psych major and like doing lil analysis of things so it’s for funsis nothing else XD and i’m writing these with adult personalities in mind ! just fyi

it’s kinda long, fair warning, lots of text.

—• TAGS: none, completely sfw

ᯓ፥Charlie ꪆ

Starting off with the MC herself; I can see her being a fav bc you are the sunshine coded individual that likes to do things diplomatically first, handles situations with words first and foremost as well as enthusiasm and optimism. You’ll always see the bright side of things and like to see the good in people.

So probably relate a lot to her.

You have a tendency to put others way above yourself and your own needs, most of the time unconsciously so.

Maybe you’re the mom-friend of the group. You’re the most caring and giving out of your surrounding friends or family.

Which kinda makes me think you may have a mix of daddy and mommy issues.

However sometimes your kindness is taken for weakness and naivety when that couldn’t be further from the truth. You’re not unaware of the world around you, in fact you’re probably someone who understands a little too good, so you choose to give positivity to the sea of negativity.

You’re highly emotionally intelligent, mature and likely find yourself always taking the reign in things. You’re a doer, determined to see everything you put your mind to to completion, lots of initiative in many aspects.

A WORKAHOLIC. Completely unaware of that aspect tho. Or just unintentionally so. Bc you are so determine on projects you give 120% and don’t stop until it’s completed.

You probably find comfort in her character in some ways; either bc you see yourself in her or strive to find a person like her who will see your redeeming qualities when you can’t, and want to help you grow as a person.

You aren’t a strict planner or someone who sticks 100% with a plan but do like to have an outline at least. Even if you have to improv further down the line at least you have an idea of wtf you’re doing.

So you can also roll with being spontaneous, you can easily think of a loose path to follow and roll with it whenever.

You’re very enjoyable company !! Smile and laugh is contagious, it’s impossible to not feel good around you.

ᯓ፥Vaggie ꪆ

You struggle a lot with imposter’s syndrome so let me be the one to tell you; you deserve good things, you belong in good places and with the people you love and love you back.

You’re likely the person everyone turns to for a voice of reason.

Ms./Mr./Mx. Hyper-Independent™️

You’re very headstrong, you’re the decision maker in whatever circle you run.

You’re likely also the mediator. Are you the middle child in your family?

You’re a perfectionist to a fault, and fear failure. Sometimes you need a little reassurance.

However, you’re an exceptional lover. You’re loyal, attentive, your love language might be acts of service and/or words of affirmation.

You greatly value those around you and just want to help them be successful.

Sometimes you’re too strict with yourself, even with others but you mean well.

Despite anything though, you have a pretty firm grasp in your sense of self, you know who you are and what you want in life.

You stand up for yourself, you don’t let anyone push you around; you’re the scary dog privileges.

And even if you sometimes come across as hard around the edges, you’re quite soft on the inside. You still choose to act with kindness even if someone doesn’t deserve it. But you’re good at killing with kindness.

You give me Taurus energy. And despite the bullet-point above you have made grown men cry. You’re kind but you are capable to hurting with your words if you so choose.

ᯓ፥Alastor ꪆ

I’ll just get it out of the way: raging daddy issues

But the kind of daddy issues that come from resentment and anger at a fatherly figure or men that remind you of that fatherly figure.

You neither want fatherly comfort nor find someone that is a good fatherly figure. You don’t need it, you’ve been this long without it so what’s the point ?

Maybe you’re likely even the type of person who comforts others but don’t want/let others comfort you. You don’t need others, others need you.

You value your privacy, very reserved about your personal life. Keeping everything close to the vest do to the load of trust issues you carry.

Definitely into older partners (more specifically older men)

Unless don’t you do dating or physical relationships. In this case you maybe find yourself being the older friend of a group of friends.

You don’t have a parental bone in your body but you have this innate need to make sure others never feel the way you did; alone, helpless. This whether you admit it or not.

Much like our resident Radio Demon you have an appreciation for the entertainment and may take some sadistic pleasure in watching the people you don’t care for fail (especially those who have wrong you in the past).

But if not giving a fuck was an olympic sport you’d be a gold medalist. You are winning the 'idgaf war' every time, bc you don’t need to retaliate immediately when someone does do you wrong either, remaining unbothered knowing that person will do themselves in.

You like to play the long game in some situations, waiting for the right time to make a move.

You don’t have time for bullshit, time costs and yours comes at a high rate. You rather get to the point than run circles. And the biggest pet-peeve is getting lead on in any way just to ultimately waste your time and get nothing out it.

In most circumstances you don’t do anything without receiving a benefit from it unless it’s the people you truly care about. Everything has a price, a lot of things you do are for self fulfillment (Not in a negative way. You value yourself and know your worth)

You’re also a go-getter. Not waiting around for opportunities to just fall on your lap you go and make your own opportunities and open your own doors.

However one of your biggest flaws is overestimating yourself which ultimately leads you to feel like you failed at something when really you didn’t, you didn’t reach the intended goal even if the outcome was fine. Pride comes before the fall, for sure (And you’re trying to work on it. Kinda).

But you do have an issue with feeling like you’re absolutely invincible no matter what.

You have your own skeletons in the closet. Things you don’t like looking back on, decisions you regret to this day bc they shaped more of your life than you intended. But here you are persevering in one piece. If maybe a little jaded to the world around you, but in one piece. Good job.

ᯓ፥Lucifer ꪆ

You and Alastor fans are two sides of the same coin but with marked differences.

Daddy issues here too, but the ones who actually want a good fatherly figure. One you often find from a mentor or someone to give you affection and/or guidance.

You’re less likely to seek these out in romantic relationships as really what you want is to heal your inner child.

You heard More Than Anything, cried bc it’s beautiful song than cried harder wondering why couldn’t someone love you like that.

More than anything (ba-dum-tsss) you crave to be protected, you can do it yourself, you have been. But you’re tired. You want someone else to do it for a changed, see you for who you are and love you unconditionally.

I have the feeling you’re the oldest child of a broken home that had to be a 3rd parent at a young age to your even younger siblings and it hurt like a bitch having to leave them once you were able to get out of your parent’s house. But you couldn’t stay there a second longer.

It’s also likely in your upbringing you were seen as the black sheep of the family, whatever the reason may have been. That’s something that still hurts to this day even through the no-contact you’ve likely established.

You have a lot of love to give but often don’t know how to express it or measure it. In the sense that you love too hard or too little, but you care so much. You really do.

And this is why you probably have a lot of people coming to your for a shoulder to cry on, because what you will do is protect the ones you care about the way you wish someone did you in your worse times. This is where your over abundance of love comes the most handy.

BUT behind all of this there’s also a high spirit that can be the life of any party. You have a unique magnetism and easy going personality despite anything that makes people gravitate towards you.

ᯓ፥Angel ꪆ

You have likely been through some awful shit (I’m sorry you had to go through that, me too 🫂) and that has shaped you a lot as a person today.

Probably came out of those experiences a hyper sexual that has to constantly advocate for those of us who don’t cope the same ways others do.

Angel is like a breath of fresh air because for once you get to see a representative whose bad experiences aren’t romanticized or glamorized.

The level at which you relate to him when he yelled “It’s not an act! It’s who I need to be!” was spiritual and it left you a little broken bc you likely use your persona as a shield bc if you don’t laugh you’ll cry

You don’t like letting your past define you but the line between who you are and who’s the persona built for the public keeps thinning more and more.

The trust issues you carry are so deep sometimes you accidentally push people you care about and who care about you away.

Because you do care, so much but it’s hard to let people in not knowing who’s truly going to treat you well.

Sometimes the only was you let in are the ones who go above and beyond to climb the tall thick walls you’ve put around yourself.

But life has made you strong, resilient. You know how to defend yourself and you take no shit from anyone.

You either want Angel’s rambunctious confidence or you have it and know how to work it. (work it 💅)

Don’t forget you’re more than what you can offer people. There’s genuine value in you as the person you are, not for what you can offer.

a/n: thank you for reading. i’ll probably take a while to upload the next parts tbh !

—

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gutterfuuck · 18 hours

Note

you have literally infiltrated my brain with bff mark it’s not even funny 😭😭 where tf is my childhood best friend who is literally obsessed with me, thinks we’re soulmates, will scare off anybody who gets too close to me, and thinks he absolutely knows what’s best for me?? like??? helloooo??

-🎀

bowtiful anon!! i see your ask and i raise you this:

“KNEESOCKS”

“when you know who’s calling even though the number is blocked—!”

mark finds out you have found out that you have a creepy stalker.

cw: MDNI!!!, more bff!mark, somno (making out), religious themes(?), worship, short drabble, reader knows mark is invincible but not essential to story.

side note that has nothing to do with this story whatsoever: mark would most definitely pick out your outfit for the day and look over at you with lovey eyes as he lets you try his ice cream, feeding you with the spoon… idk just an idea haha

you had a stalker.

you knew you had a stalker, there was no way you were going crazy. messages would flood your phone at night time, every time you would block one number another would pop up. this was getting scary.

3am, saturday morning. your messenger app started to blow up.

ding.

— you’re like a god to me, you’re my saviour.

ding.

— i need you so bad it’s driving me insane.

ding. ding, ding, ding-

you had enough. you put your phone on do not disturb, going straight to your phone book app and flicking through your recently called until you saw mark’s name, pressing the screen and listening to the dialling sounds of your phone, waiting for the ‘calling…’ under his name to turn into ‘0:00’ to signify that he had picked up.

“y/n..?”

yes.

“mark? oh- mark it’s horrible i’m- please can you just come over..! i’ll tell you when im-“

tick, tick, tick.

your head shot over to your window, getting up off of your bed and opening your curtains to see your best friend floating outside the glass, concern plastered on his face as you quickly scrambled to open the latch, pulling open the window and grabbing onto his hand to bring him inside. you threw your arms around his shoulders and planted your face in his chest with a sob, his arms wrapping around you like a safe cocoon, stroking the back of your head and shushing you.

“what’s wrong? jesus christ, you’re not hurt are you?” he asks, pulling away from you for a minute to observe your shaking figure. you shook your head, wiping your eyes with the sleeves of your pajama top. “i think- i think i have a s-..stalker-!” you squeaked out, struggling to admit your fear to him. his face contorted in anger, jaw clenched and teeth gritting, “what? wait, who, do you know who!?” he questioned, eyebrows furrowing when you shook your head. “i’ll find them, y/n. i promise- i’ll get on it first thing in the morning.” he reassured you, guiding you over to sit on your bed and swiping his thumbs under your eyes, wiping away your tears.

“please stay with me…” you said in between little sobs, getting back under your covers and resting your head on your pillow. mark nodded, of course he would, leaving you was out of the question. “i’m not going anywhere. i’ll kill whoever they are.” he laid next to you on top of the covers, eyes fixed on you as you thanked him, wished him a good night and slowly slipped back into sleep, smiling before you lost yourself in dreams again.

4:30am.

mark never took his eyes off of you, watching as your chest raised up and down as you lightly snored, cutely even. you looked so peaceful like this, you had yourself out with your little sobs. he placed his hand on your cheek, leaning in to plant a kiss on your open mouth. “i’ll keep you safe forever,” he whispered, head pressed against yours. “you don’t ever have to be scared, not when i’m here.” he continued, tongue sliding between and past your lips. you mewled in your sleep, tongue moving involuntarily against his own. mark pulled away, tugging down the covers and observing your thin pajama jumper, your nipples hardening underneath the material. he wanted to suck on them, leave wet patches on your shirt from wetting them through the material. you were a heavy sleeper, mark knew that all too well.

“you’re my muse,” he breathed, hands tracing over your sleeping body with messy desperation, “you saved me, so i’ll save you… saved me like-… a god..” he finished, looking down on you beneath him.

“i’ll keep you safe from everything apart from me.”

#mark grayson x reader #invincible #dark blog #mark grayson #mark grayson smut #invincible x reader #💬 sparkie is typing…#invincible smut #fem reader #bff!mark grayson #💬🎀 bowtiful anon is typing…

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kumquatqueenb · 11 hours

Note

I have a fic idea,

what if instead of in season 5 when Chimney was tortured and Hen had to watch; Buck was tortured and someone had to watch. all while the others are breaking down trying to find him. Buddie ofc could/would happen but what do you think?

Ok so first of all, let me just say, I immensely enjoyed the Hen&Chim arc in season 5. Anything featuring their bestie-ism and unwavering support of each other is something that I would sell my soul for.

Second of all, ok, I am running with you on this fic idea, potentially in a different direction than what you originally intended, but I am running ok?!

So to set the scene, we’ve got Buck who somehow got kidnapped, I haven’t figured out why or how yet, but it happened. The rest of the 118 finds out, don’t know how either, but they did, and now they are consequently freaking out. Bobby is stressed but trying to keep his cool so he can keep the rest of the team functional so they can do whatever is necessary to get Buck back. Hen and Chim have a full crime board set up trying to put the pieces together. Eddie is going back and forth between helping Hen and Chim with the crime board and just generally spiraling over potentially losing the love of his life.

Things are not pretty, but there is still hope! Something that Bobby has been fervently reminding them of.

“118! Heads held high, we are going to get through this! We will find him!” Bobby calls to his coworkers gathered around in Buck’s trashed loft.

“Yes Cap.” Hen and Chim parrot dutifully.

Eddie is staring somewhere middle distance and not at all paying attention.

“Hen, Chim, make sure Eddie is breathing please.” Bobby sighed, running a hand through his hair to try and deal with his restless energy, “And nobody start panicking, I’m going to call Athena and she’ll know what to do.”

“Did anyone turn on the TV?” Eddie asked, voice so blank that it tore Bobby’s attention from where he was scrolling through his phone to get to his wife’s contact.

Bobby turned and found that the TV was showing a staticky screen, which was weird because Bobby could’ve sworn it had been off when they’d entered the apartment.

“Uh, that was off before, right?” Chim asked, panic creeping into his voice as he glanced around the apartment nervously, “Eddie, Buck hasn’t mentioned his place being potentially haunted lately, right?”

“Obviously not. Ghosts aren’t real.” Eddie said, gaze still fixed unwaveringly on the TV.

“Look, it’s fine. It’s just some static.” Bobby said in his calmest voice, “I’m sure we just… missed it, when we came in.”

“Right. A group of first responders who are all trained to take in an entire scene in seconds all just… missed it.” Hen said, eyebrows raised to show her skepticism.

She was right, of course she was, Hen was rarely ever wrong, but for the sake of keeping everyone calm and rational he really didn’t need her poking holes in his explanations. In fairness though, Hen being overly critical and suspicious was her own way of panicking in these types of situations. Sometimes he just forgot that because she rarely ever panicked.

“Either way, it’s fine.” He said, taking a deep breath as he turned his back on the TV to face them, “It’s just some static, it isn’t going to hurt us.”

It was right as he finished his sentence that they all gasped and rushed past him to huddle around the TV screen. He whipped around to see what had startled them so much and found that the static had been replaced. Now, displayed across Buck’s flat screen was Buck himself.

He was tied to a chair that was bolted down to the floor and he was gagged with what looked like some cloth and duct tape. He had also clearly been beaten and there was blood and bruises all over him.

“Jesus, kid.” Bobby muttered as he darted forward to get closer to the screen like the others. “What did they do to you?”

“I’m going to rip whoever did this to shreds.” Eddie muttered darkly, and the others just nodded along.

“Bobby, it’s time to call Athena.” Hen said, not daring to take her eyes off the screen, “Buck doesn’t look great, we need to get him to a hospital.”

Bobby didn’t bother arguing with her, instead unlocking his phone which was still in his hand and tapping the call button on Athena’s contact. The phone rang once in his ear before Bobby was hearing Athena’s ringtone.

That made no sense though, because Athena wasn’t here so why would her phone be?

Hen straightened, shooting Bobby a puzzled look having also recognized the ringtone as her friend’s. “Bobby, what-”

Hen cut herself off as there was a sudden movement on the screen. There was a gloved finger being ticked back and forth in front of the camera in a ‘no no no’ motion. Then the camera was swinging sickeningly fast and the screen showed a new person sitting in an identical chair tied up and gagged.

It was Athena. She looked decidedly better than Buck did with no visible injuries and enough wherewithal to glare at the camera with enough fire to melt the world. The gloved hand came back into view, holding Athena’s phone this time with the screen lit up showing an incoming call from Bobby. The hand waited a minute, probably to give them enough time to see what he was holding before it pulled away and then the phone was smashing against the wall by Athena’s head.

To her credit, she didn’t even flinch, her fiery gaze unwavering on whoever was behind the camera. Then suddenly the image froze and then the screen turned black once more.

It was dead silent in Buck��s apartment before Chimney asked, “Uh, Bobby? Is it time to panic now?”

“Yes.” Bobby breathed out before he could think better of it, panic clawing its way up his own throat as his breaths turned shallow and ragged.

He couldn’t do this, not again. He couldn’t lose his wife and his kid again, he wouldn’t survive it this time.

“Ok, woah! No one panic!” Hen called, snapping her fingers in front of all their faces as forcefully as she could.

“Bobby, calling your wife obviously isn’t going to work.” Hen pointed out, “So now it’s time to call mine.”

Cue Karen coming in and kicking ass with her investigative skills and her ability to create investigative computer programs. Then we get Bobby&Eddie double teaming saving the people they love while Hen&Chim provide back up. Maddie comes in about halfway through when Chim panics and tells her what’s going on and she gets dispatch to help Karen&Co with her investigation. Buck is super injured by the time they got to him, Athena is ok but incredibly pissed because she wasn’t rly the target. The kidnapper knew the 118 and knew that Athena would be able to find them cause she’s awesome so they just kidnapped her too as a precaution. Unfortunately they underestimated the rest of the 118. But anyway, happy tearful reunions for all and plenty of buddie, Bathena, Henren, and even a bit of Madney content.

Anyway, tysm for this ask, this was fun to write :)

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marokra · 5 months

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The circus was quiet, after the dinner. Far too quiet. So quiet, that the recently-dubbed Geminitay was left alone with her thoughts. Which, for the record, was not a very favorable situation given the dangers of mentally spiraling in the digital plane.

She hoped that this was some sort of messed up nightmare. That she’d wake up in a cold sweat, and return back to her dead-end job. A job she hated, really, but she’d rather take that over this.

Gem pinched her arm, and then held her hands in front of her face. Yep. Not a dream.

She sighed and pulled up a mental checklist. Pretending this was a dream would get her nowhere. Might as well begin to process it all, right?

Can’t leave? check.

Trapped in a body that is most definitely not her own? check.

New name because her memory got messed up and she can’t remember any of the important details of her life? check.

Yep. All the signs were there. This was Geminitay’s own personal nightmare, and she was stuck living in it.

Earlier today when she went to check on Ren, Martyn had called this place Hell. and Gem was starting to think he was right. Everything she had seen today, The Void (with the eyes so many eyes that were all watching they were watching-), The Circus that was covered in deceivingly happy colors, the abstracted (unnatural, horrifying, dangerous) form of the so-called “Red King”, the fact that she couldn’t even remember her own damn name-

Not to mention how that “exit” from earlier seemed to be mocking her. Laughing at her feeble attempts to escape. And hell, if Gem’s theories were right, said “exit” was the thing that drove Ren to insanity. The thing the ringmaster had created to try and appeal to everyone’s desire for a way out drove one of his own to Insanity. Pretty messed up if you asked her.

Gem sighed, sinking down into the chair. Honestly, she should have expected this. You can’t be that surprised when the circus’s ringmaster is an AI that has no foresight.

A similar sigh was heard next to her, and she whipped around to see Scott sitting on the floor, the two making eye contact for a moment before he looked away. The plush glanced her beady button eyes to the side, and sure enough, Martyn was sitting across from her. Right. She wasn’t alone. This was fine.

She should say hi, right? She barely knew these people, hell, she had just met them, but it wouldn’t hurt to say hi. This was awkward. The silence was awkward. She was awkward. The tension could easily be cut with a knife. So, Gem did the most logical and reasonable thing to do in this situation. She grabbed the knife and started cutting.

“soooo. What’s the deal with Scar and Grian?” Worst icebreaker ever, Gem! this is the worst one you’ve ever used in your entire life! And sure, you can’t remember most of your life, but still!

Scott seems a bit caught off guard at the question, but recovers quickly. He plucks a star out of his hair, twirling it between his fingers absentmindedly. “Nobody knows. There’s been theories, yeah, but we’ve never figured out what’s going on with those two. Something about a previous adventure. A desert monopoly and a cactus ring, we’ve gathered that much.” the celestial replies, not bothering to spare a glance at Gem as he answers the question.

Martyn sighs. “Scar’s been making sad wet cat eyes at our,” he pauses to do air quotes. “‘ringmaster’ ever since we were thrown into this mess.” The marionette adjusts his position on the bean bag chair, sinking down to Gem’s eye level. “If you’re asking me, i’m tired of it.”

“So something happened with a past adventure and now they’re being all weird about it?” Gem tilts her head slightly, celebrating a little in her mind. You managed to start a conversation with the worst icebreaker known to man! Score!

“They’ve been weird about it for years, but sure, let’s go with that.” the marionette shrugs.

“Maybe it’s trauma. With Scar, at least. Not sure about Grian, is it even possible to traumatize AI?”

“Oh no no no,” A previously unseen jester poked her head over the edge of the balcony above, earning a surprised screech from Gem. “Grian isn’t an AI. He’s human. from our world.” the jester—Pearl, Gem’s mind supplied—hummed.

“Wait, what? but i thought he was-” She felt something hit her plushy body, glancing over to see that Scott had flicked a star into the side of her head. Ow.

“A lot of us thought that, when we first arrived here,” He paused, “Mainly because of his involvement with the circus itself. But over time, his more human mannerisms became glaringly obvious. I’m honestly surprised you haven’t noticed yet.”

“No AI starts wars for no reason.” Martyn commented. “And no AI has an inexplicable fear of being watched.”

“He started wa-??”

“-AI don’t take in other circus members as their own either!” Pearl cuts her off mid-sentence, the jester’s bells jingling as she jumps down from the tower, landing a bit to the right of Gem with an unceremonious fwoomph. “Grian saw us as family, siblings even, when we arrived. Well, me and Jimmy anyways.” Her voice drops to a low whisper, her uncovered eye darting around, making sure that nobody was eavesdropping. “Which was why he was so devastated when Jimmy. uh. abstracted.”

Gem could only nod. She noticed Martyn and Pearl have some silent communication for a moment, Martyn’s expression asking if he could continue. Pearl nodded, and the marionette turned back to Gem.

“It was something we hadn’t dealt with before. Nobody knew how to handle it. we didn’t even know it was possible.” Martyn added, frowning as he did so. The plush deer glanced over at Pearl, who sat in silence. Her gaze returned to Martyn.

“We tried everything we could to bring him back. Nothing worked.” Scott took in a deep breath before he continued. “He became too dangerous. People were getting glitched out left and right. The circus was a mess. And we had to put Jimmy in the cellar because of it.”

Well. That’s quite a bombshell to drop on somebody. Gem couldn’t even begin to imagine what everyone in the circus has gone through. And judging by Scott’s voice and the amount of crossed out portraits in the hall of doors, Jimmy was hardly the only one. Just how easy is it to lose your mind in the digital plane? How easy would it be for Gem to lose her mind? To actively harm the people she’s stuck with, no mercy involved? To be seen as a threat, and get thrown in a cellar with countless others? To experience a fate worse than death? She had to be careful. She had to be careful to never get too close, to always keep tabs on her mind. Because she’d never know when someone would get “abstracted.” She’d never know when she loses someone until it’s too late. She’d never know when she loses herself. Just one more thing to add to the list of reasons why she hates this place-

“Hello! Earth to Gem! Yoo-hoo! Hi! Hello!”

Pearl’s hand was flying in and out of Gem’s vision. The plush shakes her head. Better snap out of it. Dwelling in the possibilities would only make everything worse. Plus, this wasn’t even about her! This was about Jimmy!

“Right! Sorry. What were you saying?” Gem tilts her head as much as her stuffed animal body would let her. Which wasn’t much.

Martyn sighed. “As i was saying, Abstraction has become pretty normal for us nowadays. Yeah, I was a little bit caught off guard by Ren-“

“Extremely caught off guard.” Pearl chimes in.

“Extremely caught off guard, but someone getting abstracted is far from abnormal at this point. We’re used to it.”

“Mm.” Gem nods. “So, Jimmy was the first, right?”

“Yeah. Canary call, first to fall, forever caged in different walls and all that. That’s what They say about it anyways.” The marionette shrugs.

“Who’s They?”

A pause. Pearl, Scott, and Martyn immediately tense. A deafening silence blanketed the room, all eyes on the deer who asked the question.

A few seconds pass.

“Soooo, who wants to go drown in the digital lake?” Scott panickedly proposes. He glances behind himself, seemingly trying to make sure nothing was Watching him.

“Ahaha, I sure do love drowning! Come on guys let’s go like right now-” Pearl blurts out, a fake laugh tumbling from her lips.

Martyn nods. “I can’t wait to go dr-aha-own, byegemseeyoulater-”

The trio of circus members all but ran out of the tent, leaving Gem alone in a confused daze.

“Huh.” Weird.

#tadc au #the amazing digital circus au #fun fact i only really had grian be mistaken as an ai for this because caine is canonically ai and also because this was just me rambling #i’m so sorry if anyone’s ooc this is the first time i’ve written any of them #secret life #secret life smp #traffic life series #traffic life smp #life series smp #geminitay #scott smajor #smajor1995 #martyn inthelittlewood #inthelittlewood #pearlescentmoon #jimmy is mentioned. grian is also mentioned. ren is mentioned as well (he got abstracted L bozo)#the amazing digital circus #not really but i’m tagging it for filtering purposes #mar writes #i don’t think i’m the first to have this idea but i’m putting my own twist on it anyways #watchers #mcyt watchers #watchersverse #idk what the most commonly used tag for it is so i’ll just tag everything ive seen used #very vaugely mentioned but theyre there #skyblings #<- mentioned

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thebirdmanhewatches · 26 days

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Going feral about hinndredd and hinndredd Louie really all the hinndredd characters and versions of characters it’s where a lot of the older ideas regarding when hinndredd was on earth went along with the door lore, the Hamilton rip-off, the older version of current earth patchwork back when he was just a original patchwork reboot and not his own thing inspired mildly by bojack horseman, the older nightmare fuel reboot and associated lore, thauriel, Magnus tilby, more distilled and combined forms of characters that are sometimes somewhat demigod esc, the tower with myself at the top of it, azazel/cult on his endless quest to dig a pit, the scp characters, Magnus tilby, stuff regarding the origins of bauddalins, both types of joy(which ended up basically zombies without me noticing), every dropped plot thread that has ever existed, Magnus tilby

#hark says i #100%birdmade #ocs #<*| hinndredd #<*| bauddalins #oc lore #my oc lore is so self referential and tangled no one but me can decipher it #when you get two separate reboots of the exact same guy deep you know you’ve gone to far #when every remotely separate evolution of Louie Howard has been made into their own characters you’re in too deep #fuck I’m actually three patchwork reboots deep if I’m putting the first fully fledged form of the first proper patchwork reboot in hinndredd #hinndredd doesn’t count hinndredd doesn’t count #see having new ideas is hard so when I get bored I go back to old ideas but do them different this time #hence the fucking joshes(technically louies but Louie would be so pissed if anyone else had his name and I respect him)#I offer him a seat as a god of this world Ives made but he has no free will so he cannot take it I keep the option open for him though #oh shit there is another Louie Louie from back when they went to space but as previously stated Louie cannot think for himself so he cannot #actually be pissed at me #I could just not have louie from back when they went to space but a lot of hinndredd stuff is from just after his era and he and all the cha #racters surrounding him are so unique from their later counterparts I can’t help but include them #old Nora and Eira where fucking wild #plus like I want space travel and no one else does that except from Bob who’s lore is exclusively a David bowie animatic and becomes the god #of natural death after getting scooped by birds #aka god aka myself #so many bobs too I just don’t make a big deal out of it because they’re all from mostly irrelevant lore and I don’t like them

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clintbartoncore · 7 months

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I’m starting a rumor that Clint originally gave Coulson a chance as his handler because he was the first senior officer he got assigned to who was also queer. Clint wasn’t being recalcitrant when he was acting like a rebellious little shit for all his other handlers, he was being heterophobic.

#jokes on Clint though because he wouldn’t have fallen in love with any of his straight handlers #.txt #in this scenario in my mind Coulson is gay and Clint has been a freewheeling bisexual since before he realized that #not all people were attracted to other kinds of people than the opposite sex #he had no awareness of homophobia bc nobody took the time to teach it to him :(#the group home was like one of those mythical boarding schools where puppy piles were a regular thing #At first his behavior strikes Phil as macho posturing and so Phil puts his sexuality front and center ('Barton most people #don’t care enough to know this and I don’t tend to advertise it but I’m gay. Tell me now if that’s going to be a problem for you.’)#thinking that it will get Clint off his hands and stop Phil from having to deal with his misbehavior #jokes on Phil though because Clint just gets excited and doubles down. ('Hey! another queer person in this stodgy gvt org!')#Also in my heart of hearts I believe that SHIELD is predominantly a place for weirdos and outcasts for one reason or another so #it’s chock full of queer people. but in this scenario I like the idea of it being 50/50 paramilitary (and therefore v straitlaced and #heteronormative) and half discreet queer people with their own established in-organization subculture #obviously Phil introduces Clint to the rest of the subculture. he starts with just a few people who are okay with being outed until he’s #sure that Clint isn’t pranking him #clintcoulson #phlint #the joke is on both of them actually for thinking that homophobia in any direction could shield them from anything at all

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marshmellowtea · 1 year

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tbh i feel like my interest in willmartha would skyrocket 200% if it wasn’t treated as the fandom’s Golden Fluffy Healthy Ship

#not gonna tag this cuz i’m just taking aloud but this is about the who’s lila characters if you couldn’t tell and we’re curious #like honestly i still think i wouldn’t be that interested in it even without that baggage #martha just. does not interest me lmao and i think they both have more compelling dynamics with other characters #but in the fan content i see for it it feels like. super idealized?#which honestly that one its own is fine. whatever. doesn’t interest me cuz i like mess lol but there’s nothing inherently wrong with that #it’s just when it’s put up against willtanya that it. causes an issue for me #cuz as much as it seems to have died down i can tell at the beginning the fandom had a lot of hostility toward tanya #and agaibst willtanya as a ship #and obviously. i’m a huge fan of both of those things #and it puts a bad taste in my mouth when i get the vibes that willmartha is meant to be this cutesy healthy (better) alternative #both from a willtanya pov but also a ‘you don’t have to think a ship is healthy to enjoy it’ pov #and also from a ‘willtanya doesn’t have to be unhealthy and under better circumstances it could’ve worked you guys are just mean’ pov #i just #really really hate this idea of martha getting pushed forward like ‘see?? here’s will’s REAL perfect partner!! they won’t have any strife!!#when first off all any relationship would have some form of strife #and second of all is just a really boring interpretation of a ship i already feel super bored by #idk if any of this makes sense i’ve just been thinking about this rn hfhfdhvdg #in some alternate universe i could see myself theoretically liking this ship but eugh #the presentation of it bothers me idk idk #marshy speaks

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trash-bin-ary · 4 months

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… my real life “character arc” has really always been about getting more social hasn’t it,,, like my goal has always been getting better at talking with people and I’ve always been getting better at it but always at such a slow pace that I barely realize it until I’m comparing it to the past,,, I think I really need to try out touring as an internship yeah, what better to work on socializing than having to do it for a job lol

#and then like with personal interests I have started doing that more haven’t I. I asked for a wlf359 thing for Christmas #I’ve played more of my own music when in cars than I used to #idk it seems sort of silly to be proud of myself for showing my interests but I am even if it’s small #… man social media really has helped me out with this stuff and I’ve said it so many times #this is a post i made #thinking about this stuff I’m always like okay I’ve identified what I need to be happy now you have to do a bunch right now to make it hapen #but thinking that just gets me too scared to do anything so I really do need to focus on small steps #I just need to figure out those small steps. which may be hard but I gotta #the putting more fandom stuff on my bag is a good idea and maybe talk to lab partners I may have about idk an interest or details about #what I did that week or something I know myself it has to come in conversation first before I start talking but yeah detail and asking them #how their week was #I’m really glad I’m doing this in college it’s so much easier practicing on stangers #it really is funny how it always circles back to me wanting to work on my social skills more. like really other than the queer side quest #that still sorta relates you don’t have any other issues #also hey. I usually don’t do New Year’s resolutions does that count as one hehe

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micer2012 · 5 months

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a reflection on MatPat's plagiarism

Hello, my name is Della, or micer2012, and 2 years ago Game Theory plagiarized three Tumblr posts of mine, making a video that now holds almost 6 million views.

My posts explaining his plagiarism made their rounds on Reddit, Tumblr and Twitter, but despite the Hermits and Pooka commenting on it (generally in support of me or saying they don’t know enough details about the situation to say either way), MatPat and his team have never owned up to anything, and no mention of my name is present on the video. The one Reddit post they made denying it (which was made before my detailed takedown, which they have never responded to (though the mods on the r/GameTheorists Reddit were kind and made sure it stayed up)) didn’t even mention me by name, just referring to me as “a tumblr user”. (Though one of the screenshotted comments in the body of the post does say my name)

This experience was baffling, but it’s overall had a positive impact on my life. r/Hermitcraft gave me a Golden Apple Award (post of the year, 2021). My inbox was filled with excited fans, wanting to ask me questions or pose their own theories, far more than the hate I got. (Though the hate I got from Game Theory fans was VERY funny. I wondered why none of them gave me shit about saying “MatPat misgendered Evil Xisuma” before realizing none of them read that far into the post.)

And getting on a more personal, and much more important note, I met most of my current online friends through this, including my partner. It helped me grow closer with my irl friends as well and gave me an entertaining story that I tell whenever I have the chance. It was one of the first things in my life that really made me feel like my talents, my autistic hyperfocusing and analyzing of things I love, could be valuable. Useful. Exploitable. It blew my mind that MatPat thought an autistic kid’s ramblings about a Minecraft Youtube joke character were good enough to steal. To put an audible sponsorship on. To get 6 million views off of.

And that’s why I’m writing this post, this update years later. As you might’ve been able to guess, Hbomberguy’s Youtube video on plagiarism reopened this wound. It was really hard for me to sit through, it took days of pausing and taking breaks, because I had experienced everything he was talking about firsthand.

In my 10 page long takedown post, I wrote about how his rewording of my sentences made him say things that were incorrect, just like Filip did. The content farm production style that made big companies like Cinemassacre take one creator (AVGN/MatPat) and turn him and his content into a brand, a voice that reads out scripts by other people with other opinions/theories, is a history shared with Game Theory. What really hit me was Harris talking about how big creators only do this to people they think they can get away with doing it to. How they view their victims as lesser, as not deserving of their words, repackaging them as their own to give to an audience that can gain from hearing them, but deserves better than to have to listen to the original victim.

That’s the thing, I 100% think a video version of my theory to expose to a bigger community than “Evil Xisuma Fans on Tumblr” is a great idea!! Near the end of the video Harris talks about how video adaptations of things could be a great market, even an accessibility tool, and I completely feel that about my posts. I wrote them quickly assuming the reader was someone well versed on Evil Xisuma lore, after not even watching most of the CarnEvil series, and the diagrams I made to explain them are even less comprehensible. Harris makes a joke that I completely agree with,

“I’m sure some of my videos would do very well if someone translated them into English.”

I don’t think I would’ve ever made my posts if I didn’t have autism, and a special fixation on Evil Xisuma and Hermitcraft. I made them because I felt the character was being done an injustice, and because I wanted to share with other superfans this theory that might explain it away. I do think that MatPat plagiarizing me was ableist. I used to wonder a lot if this would’ve happened if my posts were articulated better, if they had been peer reviewed, if the posts themselves had been spread to a wider audience before MatPat made his video. At one point when the discourse was fresh (before I had the time to write out my 10 page rebuttal), a bigger YouTuber (100k subs at the time) messaged me and started talking on Discord, interested in possibly making a video on the discourse, but I think my style of typing and general enthusiasm drove him away. You can tell by a single look at my blog (or my original 3 posts!) that I don’t usually type like this. This post you’re reading now has been peer reviewed and edited, and took me hours to format correctly. That video could’ve been huge, the entire outcome of this MatPat situation would probably be much different.

I also used to stress a lot about “being the one who ruined Evil Xisuma’s story”. If you didn’t know, to me S8 Evil Xisuma’s story got wrapped up pretty quickly and unsatisfying (in my personal autistic opinion). (though this might’ve been due to s8 being experimental and ending early with moon big) There was no real culmination of the plot points and arcs going on, and I don’t want to blame myself, but when Xisuma said on stream (when the MatPat thing was first going on) that he didn’t want to focus on the discourse or draw more attention to it, it makes a lot of sense to me that he just wanted to wrap it all up as quickly as possible. For a while I beat myself up about it, of ruining the story of this character I love, but it’s not my fault. If anyone’s, it’s MatPats, but I don’t think it’s useful to just blame someone else. That’s how the story ended up going, and that’s fine. This is Evil Xisuma we’re talking about, their inconsistent lore is what made them such an interesting character. And notably, Pooka made an animation with an awesome culmination of Jeff, the Dreamer, Evil Xisuma, and his own sona’s story, and it makes me so happy to watch. Whatever Pooka does is of course his own choice, but I’m glad he got to give this personal story his own ending (if it is an ending, and not just the start of a new chapter!).

Typing this all out and getting it off my chest has made me feel a lot better. For a while I wanted to make my OWN video essay about Evil Xisuma’s lore and CarnEvil’s lore, actually going episode by episode to explain it instead of just assuming you knew as much about Evil Xisuma as I did. That idea is still not off the table, but MCYT isn’t something I’m that into right now. Maybe if something else comes out about Evil Xisuma I’ll get back on it, but for now I’m fine with letting that go. But I want to make other videos, share other theories and analysis… if I have the freetime I’d love to make YouTube videos, and if I don’t have the time I’ll continue posting to my tumblr and infodumping to my friends. Apparently my infodumping is valuable enough “content” to steal! Writing this out has made me feel a lot better though, I’m really glad I got it out.

If anyone ever wants to talk to me about the things I’m obsessed with, or reach out to me as a source in a bigger discussion about Game Theory or other channels, my inbox is more than welcome :] Thank you for reading!

Sincerely, a tumblr user.

#exiavojtmmc #hermitcraft #matpat #gt #game theory #hc #mcyt #evil xisuma #hbomberguy #plagiarism #james somerton #jeff the minion #mine #micer2012 #hcs9

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wife-of-all-dilfs · 6 months

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bad idea, right? | f. odair

masterlist

summary: after receiving a late-night call from your ex-boyfriend, finnick odair, you can’t help but agree to meet with him. what happens when you mix a sound-proof train car and an ex you haven’t seen in months?

pairing: finnick odair x reader

warnings: rough-ish smut, a teensy bit of angry sex, swearing, unprotected sex (zon’t zo that), kinda ooc finnick, choking,

notes: based on 'bad idea, right?' by olivia rodrigo. i lost the person who sent the request so sorry this took so long to come out!! i don’t know if i like how this is written, but smut is smut so… enjoy :)

word count: 4.6k

Neon beams of light pulsed in time with the heavy bass blasting throughout your unnecessarily large home in the Victor’s Village. District Two. Masonry. Big houses.

Two shots of tequila and some other very unnatural concoctions were soaking deep into your brain. Everything was swaying—the room, the people, even you. Your small group of friends danced by your side, keeping together to avoid the creeps that might have entered your home. Although, to you, entertaining a stranger that night did not sound like such a terrible idea.

You felt lonely. Undeniably and pathetically lonely. The alcohol only enhanced your emotions and libido, leading you to search the room for anyone who interested you enough to take them upstairs. But there was no one, because in reality there was only one person you really wanted, and he was no longer yours. He hadn’t been for months.

Replacements had come and gone, but they never stuck. None of them made you feel the way he did.

“Excuse me!” an exasperated voice yelled. “Would you please get out of my way?!”

To your right, your housekeeper, bless her poor deafened soul, was pushing through a crowd of intoxicated partygoers and heading straight for you.

“Claudia!” you shouted over the music, tugging down your short black slip dress out of respect for her modesty.

The elderly woman stopped in front of you, her disapproval of the vibrant scene clear as day. You always paid her double in exchange for putting up with the chaos whenever you threw a house party, which was almost every weekend.

She hovered close to your ear. “There is someone on the phone for you!”

“Did you get a name?!”

After she shook her head, you escorted her through the thick crowd of dancers, into a quieter room and thanked her before beelining for the landline.

With a heavy sigh, you brought the corded phone to your ear and said, “Whoever this is, you better make it quick. I’m not nearly as intoxicated as I need to be and in dire need of another shot.”

Over the scratchy static, you could hear a quiet chuckle—a sound you had spent months trying to forget, along with the person attached to it. How many drinks did you have again? The alcohol must have messed with your mind because this could not be real.

“Hello to you too, sweetheart,” the caller said, his voice low and amused.

Everything you had longed to forget came rushing to the surface at an overwhelming pace. Wisps of hair the colour of a dying fire. Eyes resembling the sea. Arms that once acted as a life jacket. A dangerous mouth that had explored every inch of your body.

No. It couldn’t be—

“Finnick.”

********

Stupid. This was so fucking stupid. You were attempting to sneak out of your own party. A good old Irish Goodbye in your own house. With luck, you would make it out the front door without being caught by your friends, or worse, Claudia. Now that would be scary.

Water flushed through your system, a weak attempt you made at sobering yourself up because meeting up with your ex while drunk was a recipe for disaster. Then again, so was meeting up with your ex in the first place. Nothing will happen, you thought to yourself, we are just going to talk.

A thought even more unbelievable than thinking you would be able to be able to escape the watchful eyes of your friends.

Your high-heeled foot had just crossed the front door when someone called your name. “Damn,” you muttered, turning back around.

Valeria, your closest yet heavily intoxicated friend strutted over to you, her feet wobbling every few steps. “You sneaky little minx,” she slurred. “Someone said they saw you on the phone. It was him, wasn’t it? He asked you to go see him.”

“Just as friends. No, not even. As acquaintances.”

“Oh, my sweet, sweet silly friend.” She grabbed you by the shoulders. “We both know you aren’t that foolish.”

You looked away because you knew damn well that she was right.

“Look, I get it,” she continued. “Your hot, he’s hot.” You smiled. “You both have a history. I just want to make sure you know all the outcomes of what you're about to do. I’ll be here for you if things do get messy but expect a well-versed speech of me saying ‘I told you so’ afterwards.”

“I’ll hold you to that, Val,” you laughed, prying her hands off your shoulders. “I really do appreciate your concern, but I promise all we’re going to do is talk.”

“Alright, but if things go south, call me. Immediately!” she called a little too loudly as you took subtle steps away from the front door and onto the street. “Have fun with your innocent little ‘talk’!”

“Thanks, mum!”

You waved goodbye as you walked down the street, body buzzing with exhilaration and apprehension. Finnick had told you his train stopped in the district’s station for the night. He and his new victor were travelling throughout Panem for the Victory Tour and were currently in District Two. You didn’t know much about his tribute, only that they were a she. The thought of Finnick spending all his time with another girl had that green-eyed monster inside you writhing.

Enough to make you agree to meet with him after midnight while moderately drunk and slightly horny. What a fantastic plan.

District Two’s train station was a short distance from the Victor’s Village, but it was long enough to cause you to remove your heels. You finally reached the train, barefoot and with the wind softly blowing your hair. Finnick had specified a particular door to knock on so as not to alert the peacekeepers residing within the train. So, you knocked. And then you waited.

Your heart was pounding; your hands were trembling. Not long after, a dark figure appeared behind the door’s tinted window. With a click, the door opened and revealed a shirtless smirking Finnick Odair.

Oh, fuck me.

He was even more gorgeous than the last time you saw him. His crossed arms bulged with thick muscles as he leaned against the doorframe, gaze shamelessly roaming over your scarcely dressed appearance before settling on your face. The amusement in his expression was ever-present and ever-growing.

“Finnick,” you greeted.

“Y/N.”

He extended his hand, inviting you inside the train and hesitantly, you accepted. Sparks of electricity travelled up your arm, starting from where his and your hand connected. Some things never changed.

Empty silence welcomed your presence as you entered the train car. Patterned silver vases of white roses were placed atop every available surface. Meticulously crafted chandeliers lit up the room with a golden haze. To your left was an arrangement of black leather couches surrounding a small silver table; further down the car was a rectangular mahogany dining table decorated with fruit and unlit candles.

Somehow a single train car was more luxurious than your entire house.

“Is every one asleep?” you asked, running your fingertips along the pure gold that lined the couches.

“Yeah,” he said, eyes following your movements. “Every room on this train is sound-proof, so...”

You nodded, unsure of how else to reply. Conversations usually ran smoothly between you and Finnick. They were effortless. But that was when you were together. Four months must have passed now since you last spoke.

“Are you and what’s-his-name still together?” he asked.

“No,” you said bluntly. “I broke up with him last month.”

“My sincerest condolences.” His sympathetic tone was as transparent as glass. Sarcasm always was his favourite pastime. “Guess he just couldn’t satisfy your needs.”

Turning around to face him, you leaned against the couch’s arm, jaw clenched and eyes glowering with agitation. “Is there any specific reason why you called me here?”

He raised a glass of rich amber liquid to his lips. “Can’t two old friends just reconnect?”

“Old friends,” you scoffed. “That’s what you call it. From what I remember, the last time we saw each other, we were having goodbye sex in your bed. And in the kitchen and the lounge and on the balcony.”

Something sincere overshadowed his teasing nature, revealing itself in the tension in his facial muscles and the glassy haze that clouded his eyes. Reminiscence. “It didn’t have to be goodbye,” he spoke softly whilst holding your gaze.

You blinked. There was a short pause and only the quiet hum of the lights sounded in the room. You were the one to end the relationship, not the other way around much to your friends’ disbelief. Over and over, you had been asked the same question: why on earth would you break up with Finnick Odair?

Well, behind closed doors, he was incredible. He was loving, affectionate, and thoughtful. He would collect seashells for you that he found on the beach whenever he went fishing, leave hand-written poetry and heartfelt love letters whenever he left for the Capitol, and mother of fucking Christ was the sex just downright extraordinary.

But as previously stated, it was all behind closed doors.

Finnick never wanted to be seen together in public and on the off chance you were, he would practically neglect your existence. Only your most trusted friends and Finnick’s family knew about your relationship. No one else. Eventually, the secretiveness created a deep void inside you that not even the sweetest love letters and seashells could fill. You couldn’t remain with someone who seemed ashamed to be with you in public.

So, with a heavy heart, you said goodbye.

In fear of becoming too emotional, you disregarded his weighted words and crossed your arms. “So,” you began, “how’s the Tour been so far? You must be pretty ecstatic one of your tributes actually won.”

He bounced back fairly quickly. “I suppose it’s always nice to watch someone you trained live for a change,” he said, placing his drink on a nearby table. “Plus, she’s got a lot of charisma. A natural with the speeches and interviews, so I don’t need to do too much coaching.”

And there it was again—that green-eyed monster. “Charisma, huh?” You just couldn’t help yourself. “Is she pretty too?”

Finnick tilted his head, visibly surprised by your blatant jealousy. “She just turned sixteen,” he stated with a small smirk tugging at his lips. Well, no one told you that bit of information. Awkward. “Careful, Y/N. You sounded a little jealous there.”

You pushed off the chair, heading back toward the door you entered through. Maybe this was a bad idea. “Alright, I’m leaving now.”

Just as you turned the handle, a set of rushed footsteps thudded behind you. The door opened a mere crack, sending in a cold draft that caused your body to shudder.

“Wait, just—” A swift hand came over your shoulder and pushed the door shut, eliciting a startled gasp from your lips. You could feel Finnick towering over you, the warmth of his skin spreading onto your cold back and his breaths fanning down against the bareness of your shoulder. He was so close. “I just needed to see you before I leave tomorrow morning.”

Slowly, you turned around, coming face-to-face with the man you shouldn’t have loved. His burning gaze was a stark contrast to the icy metal door your back was pressed against. Tension pulsated in the small space between you and him. The intense attraction that had first brought you two together came rushing forth; trying to fight such a magnetic force was impossible. You needed connection—touch.

This night would not end with just a simple innocent chat, you knew that now.

You swallowed hard, your heart racing. “You needed to see me?” you asked. “Finnick, if you want me to stay, don’t beat around the bush. Tell me what you really want.”

Silence. He continued staring at you and you could see a scheme forming behind his mesmerising green eyes. Then the scheme was unfolding. He leaned down to your level, to your lips, his half-lidded eyes never leaving your mouth as he just barely allowed his lips to brush yours. On instinct, you tilted your head upwards.

“I want you,” he whispered.

You didn’t waste a second to respond. “Then take me.”

He was quicker than a bullet train. Finnick’s lips caught your own and were burning with fiery desire, evident in his haste to wrap you up in his arms and practically merge your body with his. Flames licked just beneath your skin, setting your nerves alight with passion and lust. You burned together in an inferno fuelled by each other’s touch.

Logically, this was wrong. Finnick was your ex-boyfriend and for good reason. But as your hands clung to every inch of him that they possibly could, as his tongue and yours danced fluidly with one another, and as your body buzzed with pure adrenaline, you were willing to abandon all your morals in exchange for five more minutes in his embrace.

A moan travelled from your mouth to his own as you felt him bite your lower lip. You could already feel that familiar throbbing sensation between your thighs and the wetness that exposed how much you craved him. You knew he felt the same. His sweatpants left little to the imagination.

Your hand slipped between your connected bodies, travelling down Finnick’s firm stomach, gliding over his small trail of hair and finally into his pants. Your fingers curled around his cock which already leaked with precum. He was just as desperate as you.

“Fuck,” he groaned, the sound sending tingles down your spine.

You left his lips to press a wet kiss to his neck. “I wonder how many times you pretended your hand was my own,” you purred, leaving another kiss on his clavicle. “How many times you tried to recreate the warmth you only feel when you're inside me.”

His mouth hung open, letting out quiet uneven breaths as you stroked his length, your pace so quick that he already felt an overwhelming urge to release into your soft unrelenting hand. The sound of your voice, so sexy and lustful, combined with your swift pressured movements had his stomach tensing and contracting with a devastating build-up of pleasure.

“Too many times,” he admitted in a strained voice.

You sucked on the warm pulsing skin of his neck, this time receiving a groan that buzzed on your lips. His hands grabbed at your hips for support, roughly kneading the softness and satin in his large palms.

“This dress—fuck!” his voice broke as another hand slipped into his pants, cupping his balls as the other twisted with each stroke of his cock. “Sweetheart,” he chuckled breathlessly. “You look like a fucking siren.”

Your soft lips pecked at his toned chest before pulling away and looking up at him through your lashes. Euphoric delirium was prominent in his eyes. “You should’ve seen everyone staring at my party,” you said. “I wish you saw how badly the men wanted to fuck me right there on the dancefloor; how they undressed me with their eyes. Maybe then you would understand the mistake you made by never showing me off.”

Aggravation blazed in his aroused eyes which only made you so much hornier. Before you could pump another stroke, Finnick had ripped your hands from his pants and spun you around, pinning your body against the wall with his own, his hard cock pushing against the plush of your ass.

“I do understand,” he growled into your ear.

He abruptly started sucking hard kisses onto the side of your neck which had you gasping for air and tilting your head to allow him further access. One of his hands cupped your breast, massaging it with rough fingers and pinching your peaked nipples between his fingertips. His other hand travelled around your hip, wandering beneath your revealing dress and slipping into your lace panties.

You cried out when two fingers plunged into your soaking hole without warning.

“Know what I wish?” he asked, fingers curling in and out of you at such a rapid pace that the wet noises could be heard throughout the entire room. Blissful tears threatened to spill down your face. “I wish those guys could see how you looked right now with my fingers fucking you.” The hand on your breast moved to your throat, applying enough pressure on your carotid to make your head pound with dizziness. “I wish they knew you only enjoy being fucked by me.”

Your walls squeezed around his fingers, pulling him even further inside. Your untouched breasts were squashed against the train door and the fabric of your dress rubbed against your sensitive nipples. Finnick’s cock twitched against you and his hand was constricting the blood flow to your head. Yeah. Nobody else could make you feel better than this.

Finnick plunged his fingers inside again with a hard thrust which forced a broken moan from your lips. “Isn’t that right?”

The heel of his palm dug into your clit and your entire body was overcome with pins and needles; your knees buckled and hit the metal door. That would definitely bruise. You hoped it would—you wanted a reminder of this night.

“Yes!” you gasped. “Finnick, only you. Only you.”

“That’s right.”

Your moans started to rise in pitch, signalling the orgasm which was rapidly closing in. But right before you could come, Finnick’s fingers slipped out of you and out of your now-drenched panties. Your orgasm began to fade due to the lack of friction until it disappeared completely, leaving you feeling frustrated and neglected.

Turning back around with a flushed face, you witnessed Finnick sucking your juices off his fingers with a pop. His grin was conniving, self-satisfied with his actions which proved how desperately you wanted him to fuck you. That smug bastard. You would give anything to wipe the amusement off his beautiful fucking face.

And, well, you did.

“Fuck you!” you exclaimed, shoving him backwards.

“Fuck me?” He raised an eyebrow, smirk twitching at his lips. “I already know you want to.”

With a frustrated cry, you shoved him again, but this time he caught you in his arms and fervidly crushed his lips to yours. You squirmed and writhed and resisted but eventually melted into his embrace when you remembered you wanted this. You wanted this so badly.

Your arms wrapped around his neck as both your bodies continuously curved into one another, neither of you being able to remain still for more than a few seconds. The taste of brandy and you were on Finnick’s tongue as it swirled around your mouth; the flavours, which were polar opposites, sweet and savoury, mixed together to create something utterly carnal.

With the knowledge that this was probably a one-time thing, your kisses became bruising and frantic. Finnick alternated between kissing your lips, your neck, your jaw, and any place he could possibly reach. You hung onto every sound he made, every hot breath he took.

The two of you stumbled around the train car, lips never leaving one another, hands grabbing at every inch of flesh they could reach. You bumped into walls and multiple glass ornaments and laughed together when Finnick just barely caught one before it shattered on the floor.

Eventually, you ended up down the opposite end of the train car. Your back hit something hard and you gasped in surprise. The dining table. Finnick gave a quick glance at the table before pressing another kiss to your lips, this time a little more tenderly.

“Turn around,” he said, and you did.

You immediately felt him press himself against your behind. You stared ahead, chest heaving and swollen lips tingling, waiting for any more commands. His hand walked around your thigh, over the mound of your pussy, and then grazed up your stomach. He left a trail of warm tingles between your breasts before continuing upward to move your hair from your shoulder where he placed another warm gentle kiss.

Finally, he splayed his hand flat between your shoulder blades and pushed, bending you over the table until your torso lay flat on the cold wooden surface. Finnick hiked your dress up to your hips and crouched down, caressing your outer thighs before sliding your panties down to your ankles.

The air hit your bare skin and you exhaled a shaky breath as you anticipated his next movements. As he rose to his feet, he trailed kisses up your leg, ending with a soft bite to your ass which earned him a small giggle.

You could hear him tug down his sweatpants which hit the floor with a muffled thud. Your breaths continued to shake with nerves, coming out in soft pants. Finnick held onto your hip with one hand and held himself in the other. No words were spoken. Both of you wanted this—needed this.

Next thing you knew, your panting breaths had stopped altogether. Finnick’s cock had slid between your folds, filling you up in one single movement, and you both released a relieved moan in sync. Your hands pressed against the tabletop as your body began to rock with his thrusts. You weren’t going to make love or whisper sweet nothings into each other’s ears. No. This was pure unadulterated fucking.

Finnick started off fast; neither of you had the patience for a slow build-up. You didn’t even bother caring about the fact that he wasn’t wearing a condom. His hand had lowered to your mid back and the other gripped your hip as your warmth swallowed him over and over.

“Oh god,” you gasped.

The sensations that overtook your body were eagerly welcomed. You had tried to replicate the sex Finnick gave with other men after your relationship ended, but none seemed to compare even the slightest. You weren’t sure how a single human being could provide the sensations of nirvana, how one could master the skills of bringing another person to such an incredible high, but Finnick could. He always could.

It was only at this point that you realised how badly your body had been in withdrawal from his touch. The feeling of him inside you was like a drug. Addicting. Definitely not healthy.

You had tried fingering yourself to replicate his cock, but it was a pathetic attempt. Finnick could hit a deep spot inside you that no one else could like it was some secret forbidden location that only he held the key to. He made your body feel full. Stuffed. Complete. In a way that made you feel like you were going to burst into an explosion of white heavenly light.

Your nails scratched at the wood as he continued to pound into you, cock gliding against the ripples of your inner walls. There wasn’t a single inch of space left inside you. He fit like your pussy was where he belonged.

“Always feel so fucking good,” he muttered between thrusts.

His pleasure was always vocal, voiced with heavy breaths, grunts, and groans. Sometimes he even whimpered, especially when you edged him. He didn’t mind you being more dominant at times, but right now was not one of those moments. Being bent over and fucked into a table was not in any way, shape, or form you being dominant. This was Finnick being in control and it felt incredible.

“Finnick,” you said. “Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop!”

In response he grabbed your other hip and pulled you back into him, burying himself even deeper inside you with each thrust which had you crying out his name again. He hunched over your body, hips still pounding behind you, and sucked harsh kisses on your shoulder. He left behind red and deep purple marks on your shoulder, moving to your neck, and then grazed your earlobe with his teeth.

He returned a hand to your throat, forcing the both of you into a standing position. His fingers squeezed, reducing the blood flow into your brain which enhanced the explosion building up inside you.

“Harder!” you cried.

Both his cock and his hand increased their vigour. Stars were sparkling in your vision. You were almost completely sober now, yet you felt entirely drunk. Drunk on Finnick. He reached his free hand between your legs and your body fell back into his, only remaining upright from his support.

His fingers rubbed side-to-side on your clit, so hard and fast that his hand almost blurred in motion. Your moans rose an octave as your stomach began to tighten. A fire burned within your muscles, so pleasurably excruciating that you thought they would liquefy inside you. Your pussy clenched around Finnick’s cock, walls fluttering with each of his pounding thrusts.

“Come, sweetheart,” he purred into your ear. You could hear how much he struggled to contain his moans as he talked. “Come on, I know you're close. I can feel you.”

You nodded mindlessly and curled your arm backwards around his neck, in need of something to cling to. As the feeling inside your stomach intensified, your eyes squeezed shut and your hold around his neck tightened until you were almost choking him. With every ounce of strength that he had inside him, Finnick increased his pace until he fit multiple mind-destroying thrusts into each second that passed.

He was almost animalistic with his pounding and unrestrained groans of pleasure. And you were so close, so, so close to falling over the edge. His hand was constricted around your throat; the other assaulted your clit, and his cock was mercilessly hitting that swollen spot inside you. Any second and—

“I’m go—I’m gonna come!”

A potent cocktail of pleasure, ecstasy, and release washed through your body, unravelling the tension inside your stomach and exiting through your stuffed hole. Your juices coated Finnick’s cock with warmth as you repeated his name over and over.

You could feel him twitching inside you, spilling himself onto your clenching walls whilst bending you over to senselessly fuck you into the table. His moans were so loud, so fucking attractive, but may God have mercy on both of you if the room wasn’t actually soundproof.

Neither of you could stop. You came an immeasurable number of times; your hands left marks on Finnick’s body as he did on yours, and every surface in the room had been tainted with your sin. You clung onto one another, desperately prolonging your night together that would most likely be the last. Ever.

*********

“Don’t leave again.”

Your fingers stilled as you strapped on your high heels. You glanced up at Finnick—who now had his sweatpants back on—from the gold-lined leather chair you sat in.

“Finnick…” you sighed.

“Please,” he said. Crouching down in front of you, he gently took your hand into his own. His face, which previously reflected nothing but pleasure, now looked at you with pained desperation. “I’ll explain everything to you. Why I was always in the Capitol. Why it was too dangerous for us to be seen together in public. All of it.”

The mention of danger took you aback. You had thought he never wanted to be seen together because he was embarrassed, not because it was… dangerous. Brows furrowed together, your eyes flickered between his, searching for any hint of deception, anything that might reveal malicious intentions. But when had Finnick ever been malicious towards you? Never. All you found in his eyes was sincerity.

“I can’t lose you again,” he whispered, lowering his head.

After a few seconds of contemplation, you realised there wasn’t a chance in hell you were going to walk out on him again. Life would mean nothing without Finnick beside you.

Your fingers sat under his chin, lifting his head to meet your gaze. The two of you exchanged a look of vulnerability, signifying an era of newfound understanding and reconnection.

You whispered in response. “You’ve got me, Finn.”

tags: @tayrae515

#wife-of-all-dilfs ✍️#finnick odair #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair smut #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair fanfic #finnick odair x you #sam claflin #the hunger games #catching fire #mockingjay #peeta mellark x reader #peeta mellark #katniss everdeen

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