Overpowdered



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    Tommy shakes his head, looking at anywhere else in the room other than Phil. His head flicks around as though he’s already planning an escape as he speaks.

    “I can’t tell you who it is but I need you to tutor me, so I can tutor them.” Tommy meets Phil’s eyes for a second before they nervously dart away and stay firmly connected to the whiteboard behind Phil.

    Tommy swallows hard. “Please, Mr Watson?”

    It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that there is no friend.

    ———

    OR
    An unconventional foster fic where Phil is an immortal history teacher and he accidentally becomes the dad to three trouble makers with varying degrees of trauma

    hurt/comfort ensues.

    Language:
    English
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    107,312
    Chapters:
    25/25
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    24 Sep 2025

  2. Public Bookmark *

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    “Ever kissed a girl?”

    The question seems to take some of the air out of the room, and for a moment, she can only focus on breathing.

    “Y-yeah,” she says after a moment. “I have.”

    Violet leans in.

    “You wanna kiss another one?” She asks, so close she can feel the warmth of her breath against her lips.

    She gets in one brief nod, her half of a sandwich tumbling out of her hand, before Violet is kissing her, and for a long, long moment, her world is Violet’s shampoo and her soft lips and the feel of her cheek beneath her palm, a perfect moment of-

    “What in the hell is going on here?”

    They knock heads at the harsh, angry voice, and she blinks over to find Violet’s dad standing in the doorway, glowering at them.

    (ellie gets caught kissing a girl) (problem: she hasn't yet had the chance to tell joel that she likes girls)

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    1/1
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    29 May 2025

  3. Public Bookmark *

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    “No,” he says, when four Fireflies as a unit manage to restrain him, pushing him to his knees on the floor.

    “She’s gone,” a nurse says in a voice that might be gentle if she wasn’t delivering his worst nightmare right to him.

    “No,” he says at once, the word nearly punched out of him. “No she’s not. Ellie, wake up.”

    “Joel-” It’s Anderson speaking to him, he realizes distantly. He doesn’t really give a fuck. The man is lying to him, trying to say that his kid is dead.

    “Ellie Williams, you wake up right now,” he orders. She likes her jokes, but this is going too fucking far. “It’s not funny. Now you wake up.”

    It doesn’t matter how many commands he gives her, though.

    Or how many pleas when the weight of what just happened starts to press in on him.

    The only response he gets is that piercing, damning alarm.

    (trying to get joel out of the way, the fireflies fake ellie's death) (...it doesn't end well for them)

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    1/1
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    29 May 2025

  4. Public Bookmark *

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    When a woman he only distantly knows named Helen takes him aside after lunch one day with a “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about Ellie,” he thinks he’s about to hear about his kid accidentally starting a fire in chemistry or somehow knocking down a wall, and he prepares himself for it. She’s a good kid–hell, other parents have expressed envy that their kids don’t listen as well–but she has a mischievous streak a mile wild, and teenagers aren’t exactly known for their excellent impulse control or decision making skills.

    Then what comes out of Helen’s mouth is, “Have you thought about if she might do better with a family?”

    And he doesn’t think there was possibly a way he could have prepared himself for that.

    (in jackson, someone tries to suggest that ellie should be given to them instead) (it goes about as horribly as it possibly could have)

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    29 May 2025

  5. Public Bookmark *

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    “Joel,” Ellie says, voice absolutely devastated. Her popsicle–held so far for ten minutes without taking a single lick–is dripping down her wrist, and he takes it from her after a small power struggle and puts it back in her cup.

    “Yeah, baby?” He asks, wiping the melted popsicle off of her skin with a damp washcloth.

    “They-they took my ‘ppendix,” she sniffles, voice breaking. “Joel, they took it.”

    The words make her burst into renewed tears, and he tosses the now mildly pink cloth into the sink. He can’t sit her up all the way, not until he can be sure her stitches won’t pop, but he cups her little–damp–face between his hands, rubbing his thumbs across her cheeks. “That’s okay,” he soothes. “They were supposed to do that. It was giving you a bad time, remember?”

    She blinks at him, nose twitching as her breath hitches.

    “Nooooo,” she says, face crumpling, the word drawn out into a squeak. “Joel…they-they took my brain, too.”

    (the ellie coming out of anesthesia fic i couldn't resist writing)

    Language:
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    28 May 2025