In Honor Of The New Episode And The Fact That Im Writing A Part 2 For This And The Fact That Some New

in honor of the new episode and the fact that i’m writing a part 2 for this and the fact that some new tlou ppl have been on my blog,, thought i’d reblog this one

i’m not one to be like ‘oh my writing is so good’ but idk,, i like the vibes in this one and i’m proud of the fact that i got it to come across in a way that fit my intended vibe to me at least?? idk if that makes sense

ik it’s pretty common to reblog your own work but i always feel awkward about it 😭 so if you’re like ‘that’s weird, don’t’ but say it in a nice way i won’t be doing it too much, i promise 

What Follows

a/n can (likely) see myself making a part 2 of this, it’s like 4:30 AM and i cannot make that decision rn,, so if you think that’s a good idea or are interest,, lmk, public opinion could make or break my decision once i’m better rested

Summary: If you had to think about the coincidences that brought you to this, you’d realize that it was inevitable. Domino pieces falling into place. Or, to put it simply, it’s the end of the world and yet your biggest concern is your teeny tiny…terrible, life ruining crush. 

*cough* sharing bed trope, and some other stuff 

also i’ve never played the game i’ve only watched the show but i have some context of the game (i’ve watched some videos),, but timeline wise,, location wise, it’s pretty general as i’m just going with what fits for my intended story line like i do with most fics :)) it’s mainly set in a sort of safe house 

warnings: potential timeline errors, mentions of age gap that’s pretty vague, allusions to anxiety and canon angsty-ness

—-

Memories of before are tricky. Most of them hybrids, odd mix-matches of true experiences and snippets of other things. Stories from an uneasy rotation of people, bits and pieces from books and magazines and other odds and ends. A collage that makes up an easily swayed perception of the world before. 

But you know this one is real. You know it is because it’s so mundane there’s no way someone gave it to you. It’s a quick glimpse, a brief flicker of you in a pair of roller skates with those thick, plastic stoppers attached to the front. The memory isn’t of what they felt like, or how many laps you did up and down your block. All you remember is the stinging. The soft skin of your knee scraped raw by the sidewalk. The particularness of that kind of pain. 

That’s what the realization feels like. Knowing that there’s a chance that you might feel something for Joel outside of general gratitude for the unofficial way Ellie and him took you in is speeding down a street just to collapse with no warning against unforgiving concrete.

His fingers brush around broken skin with a delicateness that turns you rigid. These are the same hands that beat a man within an inch of his life the first time he met you. It’s a juxtaposition that twists your nerves tight around your stomach.

It’s quiet now. More so than usual because Ellie’s asleep. If you had to come to your realization at all, you should have done it during the day. With Joel at a safe distance and Ellie awake to distract from the fact that you’ve been staring at his hand in total silence for minutes now. A violently out of character mistake, which is why you’re not surprised when his voice breaks the nothingness with a question: “You alright?” 

You sit up a little straighter. “Yeah.” It comes out flat and distant. “Yeah,” you affirm, a little more here, “Just thinking.” 

Ugh. Not nearly deflective or subtle enough. It’s the kind of cop out answer that worked in the beginning, before there was any form of attachment. Back then, you thought you’d only be around them for a few days. Until the swelling in your ankle went down enough to let you walk efficiently again. It was the least they could do then, after you jumped in to save Ellie when Joel and her were briefly separated. 

Keep reading

Hi! I'm back with another request and it is stu again(I'm sorry I'm in a phase rn) . In this request I was wondering if we could get Stu walking the reader from class to their locker, waiting for them at their locker, and then walking them to their next class. I know you've mentioned it before yk with Stu waiting for the reader and I'd just love to see the casual intimacy like in the last request (and also I hope you're feeling better after the break down you went through I'm not sure if this is a good time for request for you and if not thats so understandable I'm so sorry take your time, obviously if you do do this request I'd appreciate it but if you don't thats so okay i mainly sent this in bc you said you were in your Stu era and what kind of loyal reader would I be if I didn't indulge one of my favorite writers by tricking them into writing/talking about one of there current favorite characters :)

A/n hi, i'm feeling better now :)) i'm home so that always helps and done with school until close to late january so that definitely helps lol

also side note, i try to keep the appearance of the reader as vague as possible but at the beginning i do mention the reader having long enough hair to be tied back/up with a hair tie 

this took a minute but i hope it’s worth it!! 

----

You're practically bouncing on the balls of your feet once the bell rings, more akin to a little kid getting ready to run across the park than a student simply getting a few minutes to move from second period to third. It feels a little silly, especially when you intentionally keep your freshly graded test on top of your folder instead of tucking it away, but it's become a bit of a habit.

You'd think about breaking it if it wasn't for the fact that no one ever gives you a reaction quite like Stu. Sure, he's purposefully over the top, oversaturating his enthusiasm with his tone and teasing humor, but it's nice. Comforting in the way it never dwindles no matter how many things you bring up that you don't think anyone else would have the energy to even pretend to care about.

Out in the hallway, you adjust your hold on your math textbook and the plastic folder that's resting over it. Your head turns left, towards the row of lockers that he's always waiting near. Only, this time Stu's not there. Not looking through his actual locker or talking to Billy or Tatum or anyone. He's not there. At all.

You're more confused than you should be, it's not like Stu owes you his presence, but it is weird considering that this is the first time he's ever not been there since your tradition started. You frown, a little offended by his absence. Things with Stu are more intentional than he wants them to seem, a fact you picked up pretty quickly after meeting him, but something insecure within you twists at the thought that maybe he just forgot. Or decided he just didn't feel like it today.

Even though the hall is quickly flooding with teens, you crane your neck in the direction of Stu's second period. Stu has a tendency to stand out, too tall and too much of a force to blend in if one makes up their mind to look for him. It shouldn't be hard to--you bite your tongue to avoid yelping as some firm force settles on your upper hip.

You've heard too many stories, seen too many girls rant or tear up in the bathroom after some entitled guy thought it'd be funny to grab or grope under the guise of accidentally bumping into someone thanks to overcrowding. For a brief second, the contact feels pointed and wrong. You turn stiffly, eyes wide until they settle on a familiar grin.

Panic fading almost immediately, you exhale. "Stu."

When you don't melt , Stu drops his arms, offering you a halfhearted, "...Boo."

You roll your eyes, half stepping back. "You scared me."

“Should’ve been paying more attention,” he mumbles, expression slightly scolding. 

A retort about how you were just looking for him because he’s always waiting across the hall rises and dies on your tongue. There’s no normal way to explain that, and even if the fact that you were waiting for him wasn’t totally mortifying, your sure he’d find a way to tease you. One of those jokes about how he didn’t realize the two of you hadn’t gotten so serious and since when were you such a ball and chain? 

So instead of saying anything like that, you tilt your chin up, “You snuck up on me on purpose and we both know it.” 

“I’ll make it up to you later.” The suggestive wink earns him an eye roll. 

“Sure,” you mumble pointedly, “Guess what?” The question is rhetorical enough that you don’t even have to wait a full beat to answer, “We got our tests back!” 

You lift your paper, careful not to cover the red A+ circled on the first page. Stu’s mouth falls open briefly in a look that’s just a little too amazed for a reaction to a math exam. “Wow,” he takes the packet from you, leafing through it without taking it in fully, “This is some complex shit, too.” 

He sets the test back down over your folder before ruffling your hair in a way that’s nearly too affectionate, harsh enough to make your head move at an angle that strains your neck. “Harvard bound.” 

You brush him off with a barely contained smile, softly pushing against his hands before attempting to smooth out the mess he made. “Okay--knock it off, I actually liked how my hair looked today.”  

“It’s not fair that you’re the smartest person in the room and the prettiest.” The blatant compliments without their usual layers of implication and subtle-not-so-subtle innuendos are enough to get you to pause. 

Stu briefly squeezes you to him before taking the textbook from your hands. It’s easy to let go now that the habit’s been established. You rarely carry anything in between classes anymore, Stu either making up a silly excuse to take your textbooks or doing so silently. "Someone’s too smart to carry things.” He forces mock irritation into his voice. 

“I didn’t ask you to do that.” It’s half accusing, but you make no move to take your books back. 

“Uh-huh,” he hums dismissively, “Whatever you say, smarty.” 

----

You can’t remember the last time Stu’s house felt so hot, maybe it has to do with how overly humid the outside world is today, but you’re struggling to feel fully comfortable despite your contentment.

Stu’s talking, reiterating everything wrong with some low budget horror film he stumbled onto last night. You’re listening a little less than you’d like to and you honestly feel bad about it, but you can’t help the way the heat on the back of your neck distracts you. 

Billy sits up a little more, “I’m not surprised, your movie instincts are awful.” It sounds like the start of one of their debates that are better off without your interference, and you’re okay with that. This week has been long and this is the first moment that’s allowed you to really breathe. You don’t mind absorbing that for a second and just taking in their presence and the easiness it brings you. 

“They’re not worse than yours.” 

“Even Y/n picks better.” 

Something about the way Billy’s eyes focus on you makes you feel like it’s a genuine attempt on Billy’s part to bring you in a little more. Even though you don’t feel insulted, you still sit up a little more, “Thanks.” 

“Ouch, man.” The fact that Stu’s basically dropping the argument in order to add to the jab at your taste is enough to get you to turn your head. 

You glare, shoving his shoulder. “My taste is not bad.” They exchange a look that has you feeling like you’re on the outs of some joke. “You guys are the worst, I have no idea why I hang out with you.” 

“’Cause you love us.” Stu nudges his foot against yours, bumping your knees in the process. 

The additional closeness reminds you of the warmth of the room. To avoid crossing your arms or doing anything that would get them to accuse you of pouting, you begin to pull your hair away from your neck. The hair tie against your wrist smacks against your skin. Loud and stinging a little too noticeably. It’s not painful, but surprising enough to make you drop your hair. “Stu.” 

He ignores the harshness of your voice, instead choosing to chase after your wrist with one hand. “Give it.” There’s something about the way he says it that stands out to you. It’s reminiscent of a child noticing a brand new toy and instantly deciding that they want it. 

Before you realize what he’s asking for, Stu pulls the hair tie off of you and takes a second to stretch it between his fingers. What he’s trying to do finally sinks in when Stu slides the band up his wrist. You’re not in the mood to redefine how tender scalped you consider yourself to be, but there’s no way to say that in a way that won’t make Stu moody. 

“Turn.” It’s a command so gentle you listen instinctually despite your reservations.

You barely have a second to adjust before Stu’s pushing your hair back. “Are you--” His touch is surprisingly focused, not tugging on the strands in the way you’d expect him to. “Are you putting my hair up?” 

“Yep,” he pops the ‘p’ casually, like there’s nothing weird about this. 

He drags his palms against the top of your scalp a little clumsily. It’s not that weird. Not really, you decide, just different. Any type of ponytail or loose bun would have never taken you this long and it’s clear that Stu doesn’t really know what he’s doing, but it doesn’t hurt. He’s being restrained, gentle.

“You’re letting him do your hair?” 

You shrug at Billy’s comment, feeling a little awkward as Stu finally reaches your scalp. “The good thing about hair is that it always grows back.” Stu tugs at your hair pointedly. “Ouch.” 

"Rude.” 

“Billy started it.”

Billy half scoffs. “Just asked a question.” 

A pointed question. You’re about to point that out, but then you hear the tell tale snap of a hair tie being pulled off of a wrist. Stu twists it around your hair carefully and you ease. He lingers, fingertips brushing against your neck before releasing you.

You tilt your head slightly, surprised at how well your hair is pulled off your neck. Not tight enough to feel pulled or like the start of a headache but not loose enough to be annoying. Even though there was some hesitance, he did a lot better than you thought he would. Better than most boys would have done. 

Maybe you shouldn’t have assumed he had never done anything like this before. You know about his older sister, and while she’s a sore subject now, maybe there was a time when she wasn’t. And even if that’s a stretch, Stu’s a total flirt that’s been circling around a relationship with Tatum for a minute now. 

 Your fingers brush against the end of your hair. “You did good.” 

“Give me some credit, babydoll.” You wrinkle your nose at that and Stu grins. “I’ve had a lot of practice. When a girl gives he--” 

“Ew.” And just like that, the moment ends. “You’re gross, I hope you know that.” 

“He knows,” Billy mumbles, tone extra casual to compensate for his slight smile, “Gets off on it, too.” 

You snort, an ungracefully sharp laugh as you sink further into the couch. Stu lets out a sound of protest, shooting a glare in Billy’s direction. “Fuck off.” You laugh again. “Both of you.”

Stu scoots away from you. With a sigh, you reach forward. He plays up his pain for a second but eventually relents, letting you tug his hand into the space between you two. 

---- 

It’s twisting--the world, your mind, the blank spot of the wall you’re tying to focus on. All of it. Swirling at a rate that’s practically nauseating as emotions you can’t fully label in your current state spur on the feelings. They’re a fog, disorientating and complicated. You don’t want to figure out each hue of your feelings so you label them under one umbrella: bad. 

You take a breath that’s meant to settle you, but it does the opposite. Your unsteadiness leaves you instinctually wanting to reach over, to grab Stu’s arm and stabilize yourself. But he’s standing there with that same illegible, yet clearly irritated expression. You’re not sure if it’s the beer on an empty stomach or what happened five minutes ago or the silence, but the yellowish tinge of the bathroom’s light adds something to Stu’s features. Something bordering on eerie. 

Part of you wants to speak, the rest of you feels like the best thing you can do is just keep standing there. You’re not convinced that Stu’s anger is fully directed at the third party. He’s at the very least annoyed at you. 

Leave it to Stu to think that you’re taking the side of the guy that kept hitting on you despite how visibly uncomfortable you got just because you didn’t want things escalating. It wasn’t worth it. Was the guy an annoying asshole? Yes. But you had it under control and Sidney and Tatum were right there. It wasn’t exactly dire. 

The quiet is ebbing at your patience. There’s probably some perfect thing to say to shatter the tension, but you can’t think of anything clever or tactful and the last thing you can handle right now is a fight. Your mind tunes into the music that’s softened by the closed space. The thumping base is both terrible and familiar. “I hate this song.” 

Stu blinks, gaze shifting towards you. He doesn’t quite ease, but he lets out a breath that could be considered a form of lighthearted acknowledgment. You’ll take it. “Last one was worse.” 

You let yourself smile. “Definitely competition.”

He pretends to gasp. “No argument,” he shoots his reply back so quickly you nearly get whiplash, “Color me shocked.” 

The theatrics do little to take away from the lethal levels of aggression pressed into his words. That did seem too easy. “I--I didn’t--” You don’t want to explain. You shouldn’t even need to. You were keeping his ass out of trouble. “I just didn’t want you to get in trouble. It wasn’t worth it.” He’s silent for a second, which you can’t make your mind up about. “He wasn’t worth it.” 

Stu scoffs, pushing himself away from the wall. “You’re defending hi--” 

“I am not.” Ugh. Can he not hear you? If there’s anyone in this situation that you’re trying to defend, to protect it’s Stu. You try to swallow, but your throat still feels overly dry. 

“You heard the shit he said about you.” 

Okay, speaking calmly is not working. “I don’t care about the shit he said about me, I care about you.” The blowup immediately fills you with regret. “It wasn’t that big a deal. You’ve said worse while we were literally in class.” 

Stu straightens in a way that makes his full height unignorable. You doubt that it’s intentional--he can’t help that he’s objectively tall, but noticing it now...And the way he’s looking a little beyond you with a hardened stare that feels more sober than it did a second ago. “The way he was looking at you and then he grabbed your arm.” Stu’s voice changes with no warning, taking a dark edge that nearly startles you. 

You blink, biting your tongue to keep from admitting that you had barely noticed. That sounds like purposefully playing oblivious, but it’s true. You had hardly looked at the guy until his clammy fingers were around your forearm. That had been scary. Even Sidney and Tatum had reacted. “Thanks for getting him off of me, by the way.” It feels awkward, but saying it takes a weight off of your check. “Even though the weird, testosterone match the two of you had after was totally unnecessary, it was nice of you.” 

Stu tilts his head, taking in your inability to look him in the eye. A flash of genuine shyness despite what you’ve had to drink. He can imagine your thoughts, the running of different words together to make sure you don’t say anything that he could turn into something embarrassing. It’s cute. You’re all fidgety and still a little tipsy. A rush of fondness strikes him with no warning. It’s dangerous, distracting when paired with the little alcohol he did let himself drink. 

It’s too much and he’s not used to it. The feelings are a web and his mind tangles around all he could say. A mix of the obscene kind of jokes that always make you role your eyes fondly and genuine comments that all burn down to the same, general meaning: “I’d kill for you.” 

Great. The words come out at the exact second Stu recognizes the truthfulness of it. He scrambles for some kind of joke he could make to change the subject before you can think about it too much. The more you know, the more at risk you are. And this is the exact kind of slip up Billy always gives him shit about. 

You smile, either unaware of the intensity behind his words or just choosing to ignore it. “Then it’s a good thing I wouldn’t ask you to. You’re too pretty for jail.” 

Your casual acceptance makes it easy. Stu lets himself smile for just a second before letting his mouth fall open in mock hurt. “I wouldn’t get caught, babe. I’m slasher material.” You raise your eyebrows in a silent challenge. “And you’ve seen these guns.” He flexes one arm, waiting for your attention to settle on that before reaching for you with his still free hand. Your yelp is more of a laugh than anything else. “I’d be fine.” 

Stu pulls you away from the bathroom door and towards his chest. You halfheartedly fight against him, twisting your wrist back in a way that’d be more efficient if it wasn’t for your laughter. “Stu.” 

“What?” You push back, Stu’s fingers tighten just slightly. “Just proving my point, sweetheart.” Another laugh as his first hand finds your waist. “Practicing what I preach.” 

After a second of play fighting, Stu gets you close enough that there’s no point in resisting. It’s somehow farther and closer than a hug, especially when Stu angles his head downwards. 

You like the closeness more than you should. It makes your head feel too jittery, but the rest of you so warm you almost don’t mind the awful music. “This party sucks.” Stu’s eyes focus on the slight pout of your lips. “Want to go and watch a movie or something and then pretend that we stayed here until later so Billy never has to know that he was right about how much this party would suck?”  

Stu tugs on your arm, placing a quick kiss to your forehead. “Trying to get me back to your place?” You bite your tongue to avoid giggling again. The last thing he needs is encouragement. “Trying to take advantage of me? Because I promise you won’t have to work that hard at it.” 

You roll your eyes, half debating pulling away. “I’m taking back my offer.” 

“Hey--no take backs,” he squeezes your arm slightly and you resist for the sake of it, “C’mon, I’ll let you pick the movie if you sleepover.”

The offer surprises you as much as it doesn’t. Stu invites you more and more the longer his parents are out of town. He never says it, but you feel like it’s his way of keeping people around, reducing the quiet in his almost perpetually empty house. 

“Deal.” 

Billy: *calls y/n* where are you?

Y/n: the shower… can you come help

Billy: yes! *rushes to the bathroom*

Stu: *is on his hands and knees trying to peak under the door sticking his fingers under it* come on y/n come out?!

Billy: *sighs realizing that this was the reason they needed help*

omg have any of yall watched the last of us?? i never played the game and only watched it out of curiosity bc edits were all over my tiktok (and maybe a tiny bit bc of pedro pascal) but IT WAS SO GOOD,, might have to write a fic for it but who knows 

me reading through my drafts knowing what i’m gatekeeping

Oh boy, not the 'sneaky era' 😭🤣 I'm thrilled, but scared. I saw in ch 7 that Noel was never mentioned....is that man dead? I feel like he could be dead in a ditch somewhere. Y/n wasn't able to find him before she left the party in ch 5 too. Then again, he never did anything wrong to us so maybe he was let off the hook. Also love how Stu babies us 🥴 like yes, cut my oranges and take care of mwah 🤣 him buying me books was giving off sugar daddy vibes too. Kinda terrified that he was able to convince my own mom to let him teach me to drive. Speaking of her, did we ever tell her about that second Ghostface call? Did we ever tell her about our 'date' with Noel? I would think she'd be mad and worried since Noel is a guy.

Kinda off topic, but I'm hoping Hallie shows up to Woodsborrow to cause chaos 😌 we seemed wary about her coming there and there's gotta be a reason for that, especially since we only seem worried about her meeting Billy and Stu. Hallie also feels like a troublemaker since she's known as 'Hurricane Hallie' too and it's scaring me 🤣 Billy and Stu probably wouldn't like her either just bc she is our bestie and knows us better than they do. It's like the Gloria situation, they'd be jealous we have other people to turn to....and I love making them mad. I wonder if we have other friends from Texas or if Hallie is literally the only real one that stuck around 🥲 so excited for the next chapter!

ah i love seeing people excited about final girl!! "thrilled but scared" is so valid 😭

where's Noel is a super valid question...and so are all of your guesses,, ig all i have to say is that you'll see, it wouldn't be a sneaky era if i told you

also yeah stu for sure did give sugar daddy a little, i head canon him as someone whose parents aren't around much and that they genuinely think giving him gifts and access to money with little to no regulations/restrictions makes up for it almost fully

all he knows is throwing money at who he cares about bc he doesn't know how to express his feelings into words, the babying is the second part of that,, it's him sort of instinctually doing what a subconscious part of him wishes someone would have done for him

and as far as the mom thing... yeah stu didn't get through the entire scream movie without ever really being suspected despite all the jokes he made while billy who was being accused for nothing,, he knows how to manipulate!! how to interpret what people see him as and play into it when it's convenient and how to play as misunderstood when it isn't

mansplain, manipulate, malewife and in that order

all the questions about what y/n's mom doesn't know are really good!! in part 6 it's briefly mentioned that Billy and y/n called y/n's mom after calling the police about the Ghostface call so she knows

the noel thing and whether or not her mom knows does come up!! so i won't say anything about it rn :))

also so happy you mentioned Hallie 😭 i have plans for her lol,, nothing too crazy,, but billy and stu will meet her soon enough