#getting to write with you again is like christmas coming early 💕 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

iprobablyshipit91 · 2 years ago

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Totally here and ready to enjoy some more Christmas goodness! 🎄🎅🏻🎁

Oh Ben. Like I know he’s on a mission and all but surely he can work the damn telephone? A quick text at least? I love that she had to rearrange the furniture to fit the tree in, like that isn’t brought up enough in fics. We have to remove a whole damn armchair for the month so our tree fits 😂 it’s so worth it though

And of course we have Butcher the cockblock as always 😂😂 the nicknames have me cackling as usual… Sid and Nancy and Churchill. Love it!

Okay so I know I’m not the only one saying this but I would love to see a part 2 where they have Christmas with her family. The possibilities with that… I really hope you choose to write it 😘

Hugh grants dance. It is a classic. That is all. I may have also booped away once or twice lol…

Adorable that he caught her in the action lol. Their reunion was so sweet. This line “Ben was still getting used to having someone to come home to, but it was grounding. This place was his home now, mostly because you were in it.” Had me melting. I say this every time I read him I know but the change in him is just 🥰

And then we’re back… “All I want to do is sleep…unless you want to give me a proper fucking welcome” I had to laugh so much at this!

And you know what, I love that you didn’t make this all smushy and Ben just doing whatever the reader wanted. It wasn’t perfect but that kinda makes this perfect. He’s soldier boy at the end of the day, he isn’t soft but he tries for her. Even if he doesn’t like it. I also love that the reader didn’t just get arsey and stay mad at him because he wasn’t following her traditions. It shows the give and take on both sides that ultimately makes this relationship strong.

There were a few lines I loved in this section “His grouchy face was the very picture of “humbug.” “ & “You knew that face. That was his, I’ll do this for you, but I’m not gonna fucking like it—face.”

But when he laid on her lap I was just melting again. He still griped a little but it was more cute than anything. And the story about the tree was such a nice touch. Obviously we know he didn’t have a great relationship with his dad so it was good to have a nicer memory. It’s always good to have the reminder that he does come from a different time too. Things were different and he’s having to do a lot of catching up very quickly.

The explanations of the movie I was loving. Even though I think it’s amazing, I remember it being harder to follow the first watch. I’m still not over Alan Rickman cheating on Emma Thompson and I don’t think I’ll ever be.

“Someone who loved you enough to curb his Grinch attitude about cheesy romantic things, like tree decorating and watching rom-coms with hot cocoa.” I think this line just sums it up perfectly.

Again, this was such a perfect lovely fic and got me feeling Christmassy way too early 😂 I really hope you do post a part 2 to this as it will be awesome! Great job 💕

Love Actually

Paring: Soldier Boy/Ben x Reader

Summary: Ben gets in late on Christmas Eve with a Grinch-like attitude, but you’re determined to force some holiday cheer into his system.

AN: Here’s my last entry for the TGWRC: Christmas in July event! It’s set in the same world as “Break Me Down,” and set before “Checkerboard.” But this can be read as a stand-alone! Hope you enjoy…

Theme: Christmas movies Prompt: “That’s a poor excuse for a tree.”

Word Count: 3,100 Tags/Warnings: SB being himself, wee bit of angst, potential fluff overload!

He was late.

It was Christmas Eve, and your boyfriend was late.

With a large bowl of popcorn in your lap, you sunk further into your favorite corner of the couch, drumming your nails on its arm.

Your favorite Christmas movie played on the ridiculously large flatscreen Ben had insisted on when you two moved into this apartment. But you couldn’t get into the story like you normally would.

It was the first Christmas you and Ben were spending together since he’d started working with, instead of against Supe Affairs and the CIA. In fact, he was on an extended mission—hunting down a rogue supe in Idaho, of all places.

Freakin’ Idaho. Goddamn potatoes, you thought irrationally, shoving another handful of popcorn into your mouth.

While he’d been gone, you went all out in decorating the apartment: red and white candles, stockings, various ornaments, multicolored string lights, and poinsettias. You’d even found a nice little tree that fit in the only free corner of the living room.

Well, you’d had to rearrange some furniture to make that happen, but in the end you’d succeeded. It felt like you were living at the bottom of a snow globe.

You hadn’t heard from Ben at all in over two weeks. The day he left you outside your office in the Surveillance department replayed often in your mind.

Two weeks ago…

“Don’t give me that face, baby doll.”

Ben quirked a smile at your concerned frown, and he propped a gentle fist under your chin. You crossed your arms.

You knew he had to go. Butcher and the rest of the guys were waiting outside the S.A. office. And you were proud of him for what he was doing, genuinely trying to put in the work on this “hero” thing. But you didn’t have to like the timing. It was only two weeks until Christmas.

“Fine,” you agreed. “Just get this guy quick. I don’t want to hear my aunt’s shady-ass sniping. Every time I show up to a family gathering by myself, she starts plotting my arranged marriage to her fucking pediatrist, her divorce attorney—mind the irony there—or even the guy who packages meat at the grocery store—”

“All right, Christ. I’ll be back in fucking time,” said Ben. He grabbed your arms to stop your verbal flapping. Then with a grin, his hands moved to the curve of your waist, down to get a healthy grip of your ass.

“’Sides, I’m the only one flingin’ meat around here,” he said with a deepening smirk.

You rolled your eyes, but a smile threatened to take over your frown as he pulled you flush against him, trapping your hands against his broad chest. You found purchase on the hard fabric of his uniform.

“You’re so gross,” you said. But you pulled him down for a searing kiss. If you weren’t going to see his handsome face for a while, then you were going to make the most of this moment.

And it seemed your boyfriend felt the same way; his arms wrapped around your frame like steel bands. Your fingers swept through his hair as your tongue slipped into his mouth, making his grip on you tighten with a pleased hum.

“Oi! Sid and fuckin’ Nancy,” Butcher called from down the hall. “Got a fucking job to do. Today, if you don’t mind.”

Ben broke away from you, just enough to frown in irritation over your head.

“Calm your fucking tits, Churchill. I’ll leave when I’m good and damn ready.”

You couldn’t help but giggle into his chest.

Now, it was quite literally hours away from Christmas Day.

You would be seeing your family tomorrow, regardless. You and Ben were supposed to go to your mother’s house for dinner. But you were starting to think that he might not make it tonight, let alone tomorrow.

And if you had to deal with your aunt nosing into your personal business again, your hand might just “slip” while pouring yourself a rum-filled eggnog, so you wouldn’t be held liable for your actions when you inevitably snapped on the bitch.

Sighing, you continued munching on some popcorn while you focused on one of your favorite parts of Love Actually. Hugh Grant was shaking his ass to “Jump In” by the Pointer Sisters.

The music was infectious, and you found yourself doing a little shimmy yourself on the couch in time with one of your favorite rom-com Brits.

With the TV volume as loud as it was, not even the door of your apartment unlocking could stop your mini-jam session.

And the door soon opened, revealing a dusty, soot-covered Benjamin, still in his supe suit and tactical gear. He took a small step back when the gaudy Christmas décor assaulted his eyes, but he blinked through it as he turned his head.

His lips curved at the familiar sight of you—bundled up in your pajamas and a fuzzy blanket on the couch, bopping to the beat of some shitty ‘80s song he actually recognized. You were alternatively mouthing the words and eating fistfuls of popcorn.

Shaking his head, Ben stepped into the apartment and shut the door with some force. You finally perked up at the sound, your smile alight with happiness when you realized he was home. That alone made him soften a bit.

“Ben!” You paused your movie and bounded over to greet him with a warm hug and a deep kiss.

He brushed your hair back and allowed himself to revel in the familiarity of you in his arms.

“Aren’t you a fucking sight,” he murmured.

Ben was still getting used to having someone to come home to, but it was grounding. This place was his home now, mostly because you were in it.

“You okay? How did it go?” you asked, wiping off some soot from his cheek.

“Who do you think you’re talking to?” Ben offered you a cocky smile. “We smoked that pyro bitch.”

Your eyes narrowed. “You what?”

“Relax, the supe’s alive,” he said, rolling his eyes, as if it grated him to admit it. He wouldn’t tell you that the supe had two broken arms and probably a crack in his skull. “Being shipped off to prison as we speak.”

You nodded with a smile. “Good. I’m proud of you.”

His lips pulled at a grin. But then you took his face between your hands with a hard slap (though it didn’t even sting, the point was made in your annoyed frown).

“You’re late,” you said. Ben raised a brow.

“Excuse me?” he said.

“You heard me. You’re fucking late,” you repeated. “Go take a shower. I already started the first movie without you.”

You tugged him by the hand and all but pushed him into the hall that led to your shared bedroom.

Ben wasn’t one to be manhandled though. He dug his heels in obstinately.

“Christ, I just got home. All I want to do is sleep…unless you want to give me a proper fucking welcome.”

He glanced at you over his shoulder with a more than suggestive smirk. He turned around and pulled you into his firm chest. His hands smoothed down your back and squeezed your hips, with his thumbs dragging under the hem of your pajama top.

While your lips threatened a smile, you had to wonder how he had enough energy for reunion sex, but not enough to watch a simple movie.

Still, his offer was all-too tempting, making heat prickle along your skin wherever he touched. Nonetheless, you managed to remain stubborn and pushed gently against his chest.

“Down, boy,” you said. “If I let you get your hands on me now, I’ll never get through my list.”

First it was Love Actually, then Christmas Vacation, followed swiftly by Home Alone and its sequel, Lost In New York.

Ben frowned at you. “So? Watch ‘em tomorrow.”

“In case you’ve forgotten, it’s Christmas Eve.”

You gestured to all your hard work in the form of the decorated apartment.

“Tomorrow, we have dinner at my mom’s house. So tonight, you’re gonna go shower," you said, pointing at him. "I’m going to make some more hot chocolate, and we’re watching all manner of cheesy, romantic, and downright silly Christmas movies until your Grinch-ass gets some holiday spirit.”

Ben released a tired sigh and dropped his hands away from you.

“I haven’t slept in three fucking days," he said. "I’m not staying up all night again for some corny bullshit.”

You frowned in disappointment.

“Ben, come on. Please?” you tried, but he just waved a dismissive hand and continued his way to the bedroom.

For a moment, you watched him go in disbelief. Was he really going to be like that?

With a flash of hot annoyance, you huffed and decided that you weren’t going to let him ruin the night for you.

So you went into the kitchen and whipped up some hot cocoa, breaking out the actual Godiva chocolate bars you bought just for this moment. You poured out one mug initially. But you listened to the old water pipes working, knowing that Ben must’ve been taking a shower.

You knew he wasn’t just tired. He didn’t seem to be looking forward to tomorrow either, and was going along with it for your sake. Which, to be fair, could just mean he still wasn’t totally comfortable around your family. (Your sister Luisa still hadn’t totally warmed up to him.)

You also had a feeling that he just wasn’t into Christmas.

The question was why…

But you poured a mug for him anyway, adding some mini marshmallows into each one. You brought both mugs with you back to the living room and set them down on the coffee table.

Getting comfortable on the couch again, complete with your blanket, mug, and the popcorn bowl, you pressed “play” and continued watching the movie…even though you felt just a bit lonelier.

But then, a weight dropped on the other end of the couch. You flinched and looked over at your now clean and pajama-clad boyfriend, who eyed you begrudgingly with his arms crossed over a soft plain shirt.

You smiled at him warmly. “Hey, baby.”

His grouchy face was the very picture of “humbug.” Biting your lip, you set down the popcorn on the coffee table and handed him the spare cup of hot chocolate.

“I made some for you,” you said. He gave you a brief nod and took a dutiful sip. But not even rich, chocolatey goodness could curb his sour mood as he stared blandly at the screen.

You knew that face. That was his, I’ll do this for you, but I’m not gonna fucking like it—face.

When he stifled a yawn, you knew that he hadn’t been lying. He really was tired. Sometimes you forgot that while Ben was all but indestructible, even he had his limits. Chasing that rogue supe across the country must’ve taken it out of him, even if he wouldn’t admit it.

So you reached over and plucked the mug out of his hand. His brows knit together as he watched you set it down on the coffee table with yours. Then you grabbed his hand.

“Come ‘ere,” you said, tugging him toward you.

“What now?” he groused.

“Just come on. Don’t bitch,” you teased. You guided him to lay across the couch, with his head pillowed in your lap. You grabbed an extra throw blanket off the back of the couch and draped it over him, making sure that it covered him up to his chest.

“What am I, a damn kid?” he said. But you knew his griping had no real weight. Already he was humming deep with pleasure as your fingers carded through his soft brown hair. You let your nails drag lightly over his scalp, massaging his head. Your free hand stroked his cheek.

Ben closed his eyes for a moment and let out a sigh through his nose. The movie continued to play, but you were no longer paying much attention. This was more important.

When he opened his eyes again, they were drawn to the small, four-foot Christmas tree in the corner of the room, next to the TV.

“That’s a poor fucking excuse for a tree,” he said.

You frowned and followed his gaze.

“I think it’s adorable,” you replied. And it was the only one you thought would fit in this cozy, but very narrow apartment.

Ben’s arms crossed over his blanket.

“I’ll go tomorrow, find us a real fucking tree,” he said.

Your frown deepened a little. “But I already decorated this one. All by myself, I might add.”

He eyed you then, a bit softer.

“All right, we’ll get a second one for the dining room,” he grumbled. “Getting the tree up is a man’s job anyway.”

You rolled your eyes at that. But you tried to see if there was anything deeper to read in his words. Not for the first time, you wondered how he’d spent his holidays in the past. No doubt with a lot of fanfare and celebrity parties during his hay day as Soldier Boy. You were more interested in his life before that.

“I remember, my mom would run the show at Christmas,” Ben said.

You blinked down at him in surprise. Without knowing, he’d opened up on your exact curiosity.

Or maybe he just knew you better than you thought.

“She’d have all the help in a damn tear around the house. Cooking, decorating, the whole nine yards. It was a perfect scene, like something out of a catalogue,” said Ben. “But getting the tree was always my dad’s job. His only job, really.”

You smiled and continued to listen with rapt attention. Your thumb continued to stroke along his neck.

“One year, he got this massive one. Must’ve been…I don’t know, twenty feet. I don’t even know how he got it through the door, but he was mighty fucking proud of himself,” Ben said.

His gaze trailed beyond you, lost in faded memories. They played in his mind like a reel, wordless, but bright and warm.

“Who decorated it?” you asked. Your voice drew his attention back.

“Me and him,” Ben admitted, surprising you yet again. “Meanwhile, Mom baked up a storm for the Christmas party they threw every year…”

It was a rare moment where Ben recalled what seemed to be a nice memory of his father. But soon enough, the nostalgia dimmed from his eyes.

He cleared his throat and swiped a hand over his mouth, as if that could erase his moment of vulnerability.

Then he turned to face the TV screen.

“So what’s even happening here? Seems like there’s four goddamn movies playing at once.”

You cracked a smile and continued brushing your fingers through his hair. You also rewinded the movie so he could actually follow the story.

“Yeah, that’s what makes this movie so classic. See, there’s Emma Thompson and Alan Rickman. They’re married, kids, the perfect life, right? But he’s actually cheating on her with a younger, sluttier woman.”

“…And this is a fucking Christmas movie?”

“Yeah, you’ll see. Then there’s Liam Neeson.”

Ben perked up at that. “The Taken guy?”

You nodded. “Yep! He’s a widower, but he has a stepson who’s got a sweet little crush. So he’s gonna try and help the kid impress the girl by helping him learn the drums.”

Your boyfriend nodded.

“Musicians get plenty of pussy, that’s for damn sure,” he said. And with a knowing grin, “Actors get more though.”

You snorted and pointed to Hugh Grant next. “He’s my favorite. He’s playing the Prime Minister, who falls in love with his assistant, Natalie. That’s her right there.”

Ben raised a brow at your choice of “favorite.” If nothing else, he noted your type for older men.

But he smirked when Natalie kept verbally fumbling in Hugh’s presence, then stared along with the Prime Minister at the woman’s ass when she walked away at the end of the scene.

“Hmm, I’ll admit. She’s got a juicy peach,” Ben remarked. You laughed and hit his shoulder playfully. It worked an amused smile onto his face.

He took your hand from his shoulder and pressed the back of it to his lips. You blinked down at him, and you warmed with a smile at seeing his more relaxed face.

He kept your hand on his chest, his thumb drawing back and forth over your wrist.

So you proceeded to explain the various angles of the movie until he was all caught up.

You two watched the rest of it together. Like always, you cried when Colin Firth poured his heart out to his housekeeper, Aurélia, half in his mangled Portuguese and half in English. You cried again when Emma’s character finally confronted her cheating bastard husband.

And you held your breath when Hugh and Natalie kissed as the stage curtain fell down, revealing their relationship to the world.

By the time the credits rolled, you were an emotional mess. You were happy though. Typically you’d watch this movie with your sister, but it was nice to share the holidays with someone…

Someone who loved you enough to curb his Grinch attitude about cheesy romantic things, like tree decorating and watching rom-coms with hot cocoa.

You glanced down, and sure enough, Ben was asleep. He had turned onto his stomach. His head still rested in your lap, his cheek pillowed by your thigh, and he had a hand curled around your leg. Your big, growling bear of a man had a gooey center that sometimes surprised even you.

For one mischievous moment, you considered sticking a piece of popcorn up his nose.

He looked so damn peaceful that you didn’t want to ruin it…yet now you couldn’t get up either.

Shit, you thought, but your grin was soft. Oh, whatever. Sleep is overrated.

You queued up Chevy Chase’s Christmas Vacation next in your movie marathon and settled in. You laid a gentle hand on Ben’s back, between his broad shoulders.

And his story about his parents returned to the forefront of your mind.

Maybe he didn’t hate Christmas. Maybe it was just difficult for him to remember the genuinely good ones. Maybe he missed his parents; both of them, despite how contentious it had been between him and his father.

You could certainly understand that. But now, you would make sure he would remember this one for the “good” column.

You only startled a little when your cell phone chimed on the coffee table. The screen read 12:00 a.m. It was officially December 25th.

You then felt Ben’s warm hand squeeze your leg. His eyes were still shut though, his breathing deep and even in sleep.

With a smile, you leaned down and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

And you whispered in his ear, “Merry Christmas, Ben.”

AN: Yay! I hope you liked this fluffy one for SB. Thus concludes my foray into Christmas in July! 🎄❤️

Did you like Ben's little day trip down memory lane? Let me know in the comments! 😘

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#fic rec #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x reader

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dreamingcloudie · 3 years ago

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❛❛ Family Fur-ever ❜❜

✎ ❛❛ Welcome to your new home, little one. ❜❜

Pairing(s): Dottore x GN!Reader

Genre/Format: Fluff (Oneshot)

Warning(s): Use of Dottore's (speculated) real name

wc: ~1.5k

Notes: This is the other idea ❄️ Anon gave me and omg this one is SO CUTE. I had a lot of fun writing this 💕 I hope you guys aren't tired of Dottore fluff because I'm not :)

Any feedback is greatly appreciated! ♡

You sat by the window and stared into the distance as the citizens of Snezhnaya carried on about their day. Your eyes couldn’t help but subconsciously lingered a bit longer on those who were pushing puppy strollers, walking with a little fluff ball on a leash and playing catch at the park. To be able to do all these has always been a dream of yours. Time and time again, you’d imagine what it was like to have those loveable creatures as your companion; a husky specifically.

You wanted to ask Dottore if you could have one. Yet, when you opened your mouth, you couldn’t let any words out as uncertainty stopped you from doing so. Never once have you perceived Dottore as someone who would want critters around. But what if he did? Despite having been with him for a long time; there were still things you didn’t know about him. The dilemma didn’t last for long. Either ask him and get a ‘no’, or miss out on an opportunity to get one.

Making up your mind, you were going to ask him and get the answer. Simple. Just before going into his lab, doubts hit you once more.

It was now or never.

You went in and searched for the familiar silhouette before spotting him hunched over something on his desk. Judging from the pattern of your footsteps, he immediately recognized it was you. Without needing to turn his back, he asked, “Need something, dove?”

‘Alright here we go.’ Giving yourself a mini pep-talk.

“Yea, uh. So I wanted to ask you something,” the end of the sentence getting quieter and quieter as you spoke.

He gave you a hum, signaling you to continue. In return, he only got a few seconds of you breathing. Finally looking up from what he was tinkering with, he was met with you fidgeting with your fingers.

“Dove,” he said softly, “You can tell me anything, you know that.”

His reassurance encouraged you to ease up a bit, and so you continued, “I was going to ask if we could get a… husky.”

You heard him sucked in a breath, prepared for him to say no to your request. However, you could only hear him chuckle and replied, “That’s what all this is about?” You were baffled by his response.

“You got yourself all worked up for nothing, dear.” He stepped aside and on his desk there sat a… dog collar? He continued, “I was planning on giving you one as a Christmas gift. But I suppose it is an early gift now.”

Dottore and you would go for a stroll around the park occasionally, he never failed to catch the longing look on you as a puppy passed by. The way your eyes would brighten up with joy was something he wanted to see again. And it seemed like it was a success when you perked up.

“Are we…?” You looked at him, afraid that saying another word would extinguish that tiny spark of hope in you.

He smiled then called one of his segments over, uttering the words:

“Arrange a meeting at the dog breeding barn for me.”

And that was all you needed to hear.

You got the news that the puppy would get here tomorrow. So you woke up bright and early to drag Dottore out of bed. He still had things to work on, but taking a day off to go “puppy shopping” (as you phrased it) with you was worth it since he got to see you this bubbly. The moment you entered the store, you were greeted by a variety of choices to choose from; ranging from different colors of dog bowls to funny and odd-looking toys. He only followed you around the store as you browsed.

“Oh. My. Archons. Zandik! Come here and look at this!” You called him over, pointing at a particular item. He got closer to you and looked at what you were pointing at; a mini lab coat.

“The both of you can match! Can we please get it?”

He let out an airy laugh and ruffled your hair.

“You can get whatever you want, dear.”

The both of you soon came back to the palace, carrying a bag full of necessities, treats and toys to spoil your puppy with. Dottore watched as you hummed happily to yourself, while choosing a suitable spot for the dog bed. It was uncharacteristic for him to feel like this, but he couldn’t wait to see your reaction when tomorrow came.

Stirring awake, you felt something moving around on top of you. It made you laugh slightly when something soft was pressed against your face. You opened your eyes and were expecting to see Dottore. Instead, you were met with another pair of blue ones staring back at you, the blanket you covered yourself with was in its mouth as it chewed on it. You were still feeling groggy as you just woke up. But once you registered what it was, you were suddenly wide awake, gasping at the little snowball right in front of you.

“Good morning, dove.” A voice spoke up. You searched for the source of noise and found Dottore leaning against the door frame with his arm crossed.

Your attention went back to the tiny pupper when it moved in your lap, giving you a squeaky bark. You were speechless, you thought you were still dreaming but as you reached your hand out and touched it.

It was real.

The puppy let out a high-pitched bark when it felt your touch.

Dottore smiled in content as he watched the sight before him. A wide, silly grin appeared on your face as you tickled the husky’s belly. Just what he wished to see.

“Got a name for him?” he asked.

You thought for a while and looked at the husky as he jumped off your bed and tried to chew on the carpet.

“How about… Chewy?”

For the first few days of Chewy’s stay here, you followed him closely behind as he explored his new home. Giving him the name – Chewy, was definitely the right choice. He would sink his teeth into anything he could get his paws on. One minute you were looking away, the next thing you knew you heard the yelp of one of Dottore’s segments as he played tug of war with Chewy.

“H-hey! Stop biting my clothes– (Y/n) please help me and calm your dog down!”

“Ah! Sorry!”

You also discovered that Chewy’s favorite place was Dottore’s lab. The floor there was a little bit colder than the other places’, making it a great spot for taking an afternoon nap. With a new addiction to the family, that also meant more shenanigans for you to pull on Dottore as well.

You came by Dottore’s lab as usual, holding Chewy in your hands.

“Hey, Dog-tor…”

“...(Y/n), don’t–”

“Is it paw-sible for me to borrow something from you?”

Aside from the horrible puns he’d hear from you, he pretty much enjoyed Chewy’s presence. Calling him his “trusty assistant.” When Dottore dropped a tube onto the ground and it rolled away, Chewy would go fetch it back for him; earning himself some treats as a reward. Sometimes when Dottore was feeling generous and didn’t want to be seen by anyone as he got soft, he would not so subtly drop something on purpose just so he could have an excuse to give Chewy some treats (you noticed it of course, but decided to leave him be… for now.)

Even Dottore couldn’t help but melt on the spot as the little cutie rubbed against his legs (wouldn’t admit it though no matter how many times you pointed it out.) It was very rare for animals to go up to him and do that. He had an intimidating demeanor, hardly anyone would approach him willingly. And thus creating a close bond between him and Chewy.

Chewy has been staying here for a few weeks now. And for the very first time, Dottore had to take care of Chewy on his own as you had to go out and get something.

He was working on some contraptions when he felt something poking his legs. He looked down and saw Chewy wearing his little lab coat, his paws on Dottore's pants as he wagged his tail. Since this was the first time he was left with Chewy alone, he wasn’t exactly sure what he wanted.

“What? Do you want a treat or something?”

Upon hearing the word ‘treat,’ Chewy jumped up and down, wagging his tail faster and letting out a sequence of barks.

“I guess you really want one then.”

Dottore looked around and made sure no one saw him before going to the cupboard where he stored extra treats. He took one with the shape of a bone out and waved it around in his hand.

“Go fetch.”

He threw it to the corner of his lab and Chewy chased after it, chomping it down and swallowing it. He then returned to Dottore, wagging its tail once more.

“You want another? I’m afraid I cannot do that.”

Chewy then sat down and Dottore instantly knew what he was going to do.

“No, Chewy, don’t you dare give me those eyes–”

Let’s just say, Chewy mysteriously gained a few pounds that month…

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin x you #genshin x yn #dottore #genshin impact #dottore x reader #dottore x y/n #dottore x you #dottore fluff #fatui harbingers x reader #fatui x you #fatui #fatui harbinger x reader #fatui harbinger #fatui x reader

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oogaboogasphincter · 3 years ago

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Make My Wish Come True | Joel Miller x f!reader

a hidden crush, a secret admirer and a blind date for a present? talk about a love flurry for your christmas forecast! your best friend joel miller might know more than he’s letting on.

word count/rating/warnings - 6600+ // MATURE 18+ ONLY: jackson era!joel, friends to lovers (more like idiots to lovers lol), swearing, food and eating mention, one gun mention, very little talk about infected, bodies, etc., tommy, maria and ellie mentions/appearances, lots of anxiety talk but the good kind, everyone is painfully sarcastic in tlou ‘verse, kissing, choking mention, allusions to sex

a/n - @laureliciousdefinition is my wonderful giftee for the @pedrostories secret santa event! i had soooo much fun writing this and truly got carried away haha, i've never written something this complex. this was also my first time writing joel, i hope i did him justice <3 and i hope i fulfilled your wish lauren! 💕 i left the ending sort of open so the audience can take creative liberty as to what happens next, but i have no qualms against writing a spicy part two hehe 🤭

“A blind date? Really, Tommy?”

It’s early in the afternoon on Christmas Day. Outside your quaint little house in Jackson, the sun - chopped into severe angles from the distant Teton mountain peaks - shines bright against the snow banks. Black-capped chickadee songs float through the crisp air, chirps and mews from elk echo across the great planes of frozen land that comprise your new home - and Tommy is standing across from you in your living room, dumping an unexpected and unwelcome present on you on the cheerful day.

“Come on, practically the whole town’s pitched in to bring it together!” He would’ve never made it as a salesman in the pre-outbreak world. Relying solely on weak persuasion and guilting the customer? A pink slip would’ve found its way into his hands within the first week.

“Even Joel chipped in?” you ask incredulously. Joel’s been your best friend since your first day in Jackson. After being dragged to the town pub by none other than Tommy in an effort to acclimate you to the community, you spotted Joel as soon as you walked in; stood in the corner, keeping to himself. The soft smile hidden under his thick facial hair told you he found alone time pleasant, but when it grew to twice its size when you introduced yourself, you vowed to never come unstuck from his side like velcro.

You knew your best friend - Joel loved you, but he would never approve of setting you up like this. You can’t really put your finger on any specific reasoning as to why, you just know in your gut he wouldn’t.

“Yes,” his younger brother states bluntly. Tommy was never good at lying either.

“Look, it’ll be fun! We made it all nice for ya, you don’t have to worry about anything besides being... approachable,” he looks at you with a playful accusatory glint in his eyes. One reason you and Joel get along so great is because you’re two of the few - if not only - people in Jackson that don’t focus on finding love; Well, at least you don’t express it outwardly. Since forming your close bond with the old grump, you’ve wondered to yourself numerous times how deep what you two have swims into those blurry lines that separate platonic and romantic relationships. You definitely haven’t gotten lost in your thoughts day after day pondering how far you want your relationship with Joel to go either. Nope, sleepless nights imagining what it would be like to stand up on your tiptoes during one of his tight hugs, leaning up and finally planting a kiss on his lips couldn’t be more unfamiliar to you.

“We all gotta get wrangled up at some point. Hey - it might be your secret admirer! At least this way we can start to narrow down the options,” he attempts to convince you again, and this time he’s a little more successful than before. For the past few weeks there’s been someone in town vying for your heart. You’ve come back from patrols to find warm servings of food on your back porch. You’ve been awoken from your sleep by gentle melodies coming from outside, down on the street and drifting up to your bedroom. Most recently you set out for the stables for your scheduled patrol only to be stopped by a plate of chocolate crinkle cookies at your feet, and turned away from your horse as someone had volunteered to cover your shift.

“I don’t know. They seem like a ghost, I doubt they’d admit it to my fave if they’re already putting all this effort into being sneaky,” you reason.

The food and treats that have been left on your doorstep are served on no identifiable dishware, left without a note. The musician plays under the cloak of darkness, choosing to not use their voice and let their acoustic instrument do the talking. All this covert attention would have spooked you, but after having Joel taste test the food to make sure no one was trying to poison you, you began to see the romance in it. You grew relieved to find dinner already made for you when you tiredly slugged back to your house, optimistic to hear what lullaby you would fall asleep to that night. And you would never turn down getting excused from patrol.

“Well, you got me there...” Tommy sighs. Ever the matchmaker, he’s irritated this stealthy admirer has been able to sneak around right under his nose anonymously. He can’t officially pair you up with John Doe.

“Your date’s already at the cabin,” he circles back, not letting you get out of the measly slab of romance he was able to piece together.

“What?!”

“I came from his house. I knew if I came to you first you’d up and vanish into the mountains by the time I told him about it.”

You groan exaggeratedly, annoyed at his accurate prediction. Being around Joel so much, Tommy learned too much about you for your liking sometimes.

You’re not ungrateful for this surprise, in fact you find it really cute and thoughtful. But it’s just not you. With Joel, and this secret admirer - you can barely sort your feelings out for your own sake, let alone for anyone else involved! And now there might be a third interest in the mix, thanks Tommy.

“So you rudely sprang this on him just like you’re doing to me?” you say with your arms crossed. Who is this other poor soul that’s been ensnared in this trap?

“That’s kind of a weird way to say ‘I’ll go on this date, Tommy’, but yes,” he tilts his nose in the air, far too proud of bugging not one, but two people today.

“I don’t want to do this, just so you know,” you grumble, staring him down, trying to get him to crack. But the longer you glare, the more giddy his stature becomes, his smile widening until his teeth show maliciously.

You crumble in defeat, “Where is this? You said something about a cabin?”

He claps his hands together, enthusiastic to explain, “Yeah, it ain’t the lodge. It ain’t really a cabin neither, just sounds better than an old withered shed we found tucked away in a corner of the woods,” he finishes with a laugh.

“Sounds lovely,” raising your eyebrows in mocking bewilderment. You’re now sort of excited to seize this new opportunity, but will hide your feelings from Tommy if it’s the last thing you do.

“Hey, we dressed it up for you two sons of bitches. Just take the main trail east, follow the stream for a bit, until you get to that great big aspen with the gash in its trunk. Take a left where the trail divides there and follow it for a bit. Ellie will show you the rest of the way.”

Your jaw drops, “Ellie’s in on this?! Oh, when I see her-”

“When you see her you’ll politely follow her, is what you’ll do,” Tommy chides. You can take momentary despise on her all you want, and though Ellie was glad to be a part of this scheme, the man in front of you holds most of the blame; it was his original idea.

“Fine,” you surrender. You guess he really did recruit other people from town to orchestrate this plot.

With all your might you ignore the bemused sounds coming from Tommy as you lace your boots up and shrug on your jacket, grabbing your keys and going to the door. He follows behind you on your way out and chirps, “What, you’re not gonna take any gifts? Try to lube him up?”

Your face scrunches, “First of all, gross way to say that. And second, hell no. Me being there should be plenty.”

“’Atta girl,” he pats you on the shoulder.

Once you’re both out, you lock your door, then turn on your heel and look at him directly in the eyes so he knows you’re not messing around, “I’m going to get Maria to smack you for me for this.”

To your demise he huffs out a laugh, pluming into a white cloud in the frigid air, “Oh, she’s looking forward to this just as much as I am.”

“Screw you both!” you yell over your shoulder, jokingly. As you trudge through the snowy streets to get to the stables and begin your journey to your objectionable present, you don’t look back when Tommy bids you an annoyingly joyous farewell, “Merry Christmas!”

-🎄-

Earlier

"Tommy, I can't do this," Joel accosts his perpetually-meddling younger brother.

The Miller brothers, Maria, Ellie and yourself had gathered at Joel's house this Christmas morning to exchange presents, and upon seeing his brother lingering as everyone said their goodbyes, Joel suspected Tommy was going to let some cat out of a bag. Never in a million years, given how close the brothers have been for their entire lives, would Joel think Tommy would have the gall to suggest a blind date, let alone "gift" one to him.

"Joel, we both know you've taken on much more terrifying things with a brave face. Talking to the woman you love is what gets your tail tucked between your legs?" Tommy nags his eternal bachelor of a brother, watching Joel's scarred hands clutch and release the neck of his guitar with an anxious, cyclical grip. As far as he was concerned, he was doing Joel a favor by planting you two in the middle of nowhere, alone, granting him romantic pretext to work with.

"Like you weren't shaking in your cowboy boots when you started talking to Maria," Joel fires back. Tommy was irritatingly correct, but Joel wasn't going to take the full charge when they were guilty of the same crime.

"I never said I wasn't. That's just a part of love, Joel, you know that. What happened to the casanova that could charm the pants off about the whole population of Texas?"

Joels scoffs loudly, rolling his eyes. Sure, he allowed flirtation to bud and sometimes blossom if he was lucky, when the world wasn't falling apart at the seams, but he wasn't that good. He just had gotten more action than Tommy, something the younger brother refused to acknowledge for what it was. Besides, Joel was never too focused on love; it was nice when it was there, but not as important as other aspects of life: family, for one. However, he's seriously considering rearranging his priorities given Tommy's current behavior.

"That was a long time ago," Joel reasons, truthfully, "This is... different. She's different." He struggles with his words, scrambled by adoration overtaking his heart, and he's fully hypnotized when your face comes into his mind. Your breathtaking eyes that he just wants to fall into; your cute nose whose tip gets frigid in the wintery air that he wants to kiss warm; your soft cheeks he wants to cup with his rough hands and marvel at the difference in texture; and your lips, oh, your lips.....

"Goddamn, you really are in love," Tommy jests, receiving a halfhearted glare from underneath Joel's lashes as he leans his guitar against his couch and crosses his arms over his chest, broadened with an odd mixture of pride and insecurity. Proud of his loving commitment to you, nervous that his true feelings are being perceived by others for the first time after what feels like decades of being a statue.

Okay, it's 99% nerves - he's just trying to seem like the same-old unyielding Joel and doesn't know what to do with his hands so he shoves them under his armpits.

"You're not helping," he cocks an eyebrow at Tommy.

"Alright, alright, just- I was going to say be yourself but that's horrible advice given..." Tommy gestures to Joel's stiff form, earning another hardened stare.

"Okay!" Tommy stands from his chair, putting his hands up in surrender. Dear lord, if convincing Joel is this hard, how much of a fight will you put up? He restarts, "What can go wrong? You'll get there before her; I came to you first because I figured I'd do you a favor by letting you set your stuff up, obsessively run through your conversations in your head, get a lay of the land - you know, you and your anxiety and all that."

"Thank you, Tommy," Joel guesses it's a sweet gesture given the troublesome context, "But..." he trails off, stress still coursing through his veins. There are so many unknowns...

"There'll be overlapping patrols the whole time you're there so no having to fight off infected, you got your six string, your coffee and cookies, it'll only be the two of you...?" Tommy looks at Joel expectantly, waiting for the lines of his face to turn up in hope. But Joel's eyes keep to the box of extra chocolate crinkles he watched you taste on your way to the stables a few days ago, unknowing of the second surprise of pardoned work he had arranged for you.

Tommy attempts again, putting a diverting inflection in his voice, "We tried to make it cozy."

Joel can't help the smile that cracks across his face, growing wider as he imagines what you would be thinking if you were in the room right now, "We're not the romantic type."

Tommy counters with a pointed, sarcastic attack, "Who are you talking about? The man who quite literally serenaded his woman in the moonlight and the woman who near broke down in tears of joy over it the next day at breakfast, or some other heartless souls?"

"Would you stop being smart and listen to me?" Joel's patience has run out. He wants to do this, so badly wants to admit to you his infatuation and present his heart on a silver platter for your taking - but there's some undercurrent of trepidation he can't seem to shake.

Tommy's heart sinks as he watches his brother's arms unfold to hang between his legs, gaze lowering to his boots, dejected. Even if Joel can't go on the date, Tommy won't stop trying to help him navigate these feelings, now that he's gotten lucky enough to have caught them, "You worried she won't reciprocate?"

Joel contemplates the gentle question, taking a few moments to make sure he's got everything straight in his head, "I'm afraid she'll think differently of me when she finds out I'm the one who's been doing all this nonsense," he waves his hand unceremoniously in the air, referring to his secret admirer antics.

"It ain't nonsense. And you've seen her face when she finds your little presents; she loves 'em."

It's true. Joel's caught you humming while doing your work around town the tunes he's played for you under the starry night sky, seared into his brain the picture of you giddy with delight at both the idea and flavor of the food he's left after he "taste tested" it - did you really think he would eat, or let you even think about eating, something a stranger made in the world you live in now?

"Do you think she won't love you back?" Tommy drops the final question. Potent, but essential in answering.

Joel knew maybe you didn't love him in a romantic way. But confidently he knew from the way you sought out his company every single day, the way you hugged him a little tighter when he would leave or just get back from patrols, the way you looked at him... you loved him dearly.

"She already loves me."

"Then what're you afraid of?"

-🎄-

Present

Joel paces the rickety floorboards of the battered shed, restlessly awaiting your arrival. It probably has only been a few minutes since he got here, but his mind has written, doubled back, erased some, rewritten and ran through enough possible conversations with you to last eons. After fatefully agreeing to Tommy's blind date scheme, Joel traced the path his brother directed him to take and was greeted with what seemed to be nothing but a mountain of snow and densely packed aspens. Only by rounding the giant snow drift was the "cabin" revealed, and oh what an improper name. Joel smirked at the poor state of the structure, but observed his brother's logic for choosing it - it was virtually undetectable.

The door took a few well-muscled pulls to open, and after completing an initial sweep to make sure no bandits had discovered this perfect hideout, Joel shook his head at the decor. Bundles of mistletoe line every inch of the miraculously sturdy ceiling beams, making almost the entirety of the singular room a kiss zone. There is a red and green plaid couch in the center, which Joel thought would look atrocious in any other setting, but looks sort of pleasantly festive against the stripped wood interior. Its upholstery has noticeable signs of age, the colors faded to muted maroon and evergreen, but other than that it looks decent - spectacularly holding no stains of carnage after all these years.

As Joel wondered how it survived, he took in the few candles placed around the room, a matchbook sitting next to each one. With the "cabin" (that name will never not be funny) battered by the wind and snow, some of the paneling has warped, leaving microscopic seams to the outside. The winds blustered so fierce, the frost snuck through these cracks, creating an icebox. Joel went around and lit the candles, taking delight in the complementary scents; must've been Maria.

As pinecone and lime, peppermint bark and red velvet began to drift through the air and warm the cabin up - maybe the flames are a placebo effect because Joel is still shivering his balls off - he arranged the items he's brought. He set his guitar up against the arm of the couch, his box of cookies on one of the cushions, his thermos tucked away into his bicep like a stress ball. And then he was faced with the insurmountable, maddening, parasitic task of waiting. He paces back and forth past the door, ears pricked for any semblance of noise disturbance coming from outside. Nothing but howling wind so far, once in a while the pittering of snowflakes adding to the encapsulating drift trick him into thinking he hears hooves, hooves carrying you. But no, so he goes back to pacing.

He makes himself dizzy, sprinting through possibilities of what might happen. He plants his feet steady, hands balancing himself over the back of the couch, trying to fight his nausea. He pins the blame on the sickeningly sweet smell of the candles, but even for his stomach's sake he can't convince himself of something that stupid. You've seen her a million times, he reasons, what's so different this time? You're her best friend, she loves you, she doesn't know, you don't have to follow through with the plan if you don't want to, just pretend like this is all some ridiculous joke. She doesn't know. She doesn't know. She. Doesn't. Know.

Instead of calming himself down, he makes his heart ache more. He's been lying to you. Going behind your back, slinking around unbeknownst to you, fibbing right to your cute little face as you look up at him with all the trust in the world. He puts his fist to his mouth and clutches his stomach with the other, trying to slow his body and take some deep breaths. His efforts are for naught when he hears Ellie's voice carried in the wind.

"Shit," he gasps to himself, pressing his ear to the door to listen.

"You'll never guess! Have fun!"

"Okay, thanks, stay safe!" your cheerful lilt swirls in his heart like the snowflakes outside. Oh no.

He heaves through his teeth, putting his gloved hand to his forehead. It slips from the amount of perspiration, so he takes his gloves off, followed by his winter coat. He lays both on the back of the couch, deciding to keep his flannel sleeves rolled down so you don't notice his tacky skin. Now he wishes he were cold, as this doesn't help one bit. He pats his face dry, replaying Ellie's words: you'll never guess what?

He'll think about it later. Maybe. He doesn't know. He smooths his shirt, closes his eyes and breathes as evenly as he possibly can while he hears your boots crunching closer and closer to the door. Just say hi, he instructs himself, just say hi.

It takes you a few shoves to open the door too. Joel would help, but he can't move from where his feet are cemented to the floor. After you get it cracked, the barrel of a gun peeks inside, followed by your searching eyes. You had the same idea of bandits as he did.

When your wary eyes meet Joel's, all caution melts into disbelief. What the fuck is this, Tommy? you think.

Your best friend sighs, a little haggardly you notice, before he greets you, "Well, well, well."

You put your weapon away in your coat, stepping inside and closing the door to this definitely-not-a-cabin. You smirk at Joel, but heightening candle flames guide your attention up to the ceiling, where bundles of mistletoe are hung. You sneer, "He isn't very subtle, is he?"

Joel clicks his tongue, "Nope. And I bet that was indeed a Tommy touch."

"So you were fed the same blind date story that I was?" you walk around the room, taking in the rest of the place. It surely lives up to the picture that Tommy painted for you, but it isn't so bad. Not when you're here with Joel.

"Yep," Joel looks down at his boots, scratching the back of his neck, a nervous tic of his you've come to find sort of endearing. But why is he nervous?

Please don't notice I'm nervous, he stops as soon as he realizes the hint he's giving you.

"They really couldn't just get you some more sandpaper, or carving tools? Or me some peace and quiet?" you ponder, turning back to him. It's not that this seems all that horrible now, but more like a lot of effort for minimal payoff. This is what had Tommy, Maria and Ellie so doubled over in giggles?

"It looks like we got plenty of that here," Joel smiles at you, tight-lipped, but it stirs up warmth in your belly nonetheless. He's right - wicks sizzling and snow dancing are the only sounds you hear. You mirror his expression, and try to relax a little in hopes he'll become less tense. Maybe he's cold? Why'd he take his jacket off, it's cold as fuck in here.

His chest puffs with a breath before he speaks, "Since we already came all the way out here, we might as well make the most of it."

Your smile builds, reaching your chilly cheeks, "Okay."

Okay, this might actually be the best Christmas gift ever. All alone in the forest, for whatever length of time you want, with nothing to focus on other than Joel? You have to think of a way to thank Tommy without giving him any more ideas.

"I missed you anyways," you go to give him a hug, desperate to bury your face in his strong pectorals, but his hands reach for your coat on your shoulders before you can step into an embrace.

You turn around, letting him slide it off you as you coo over your shoulder, "Ooh, how chivalrous."

He hums, amused, wanting to keep his hands on you, pulsing your muscles between his palms, rubbing your cold skin back to warm, chasing away shivering aches from your bones. To your dismay he doesn't, but you two never shy away from getting cuddly, especially recently due to the season. Maybe you can get cozy on the couch.

"Make yourself at home," Joel gestures to the piece of furniture, which now that you're taking a closer look at it, you see how old it seems to be. You'd cuddle with Joel outside on the frozen ground if you had to, so this plaid relic won't be an issue.

"Thanks," you chuckle, taking a seat. Only two cushions, that means we'll be closer to each other, nice!

"I brewed some of the coffee you gave me this mornin', you want some?" he asks, uncapping his thermos. Your Christmas gift to him was a bag of whole coffee beans from his favorite coffee shop chain he used to frequent. Ever since you had your first coffee conversation with him years ago, he continuously cites that when you grind them fresh it's "so much better". You tease him for the line all the time, but it's one of the many quirks of his that you find irresistibly adorable.

"No, it's your present, not mine!" you remind him. Although his offer was a monumental one; Joel is territorial over and protective of his coffee like a grizzly bear. So much so, you're the only member of such an exclusive club, after Ellie tried a sip and proceeded to spit it out.

"Have you tried it yet?" you ask, watching his careful hands fill the cap. No steam rises from the surface - iced, just how you like it. You try not to get mesmerized by the way his long fingers grip the makeshift cup, bounding off into your fantasy land where those same fingers are wrapped around your own, your quivering thighs, your neck...

His timbre knocks you out of your trance as he comes over and takes the seat next to you, "No, but-"

Everything happens at once: Joel sits down on the couch; there's a bizarre cracking sound that fills the room; the two of you share a worrisome glance; you both go tumbling back as the sofa's legs give way. With the couch now sitting on its back, your legs are in the air and you're staring at the mistletoed ceiling. Laughter strikes through you like lightning and only gets more thunderous when you look over at Joel, blinking slowly, trying to avoid getting spilt coffee in his eyes. His grin grows exponentially, as do his uncontrollable cackles ruminating from deep in his chest, while he lies in place, literally soaking in the experience.

"Goddamnit," he grunts through a smile, setting his empty cup down.

"Oh my god, are you okay?" you lean over him, having difficulty seeing him through the tears squeezing out of your eyes.

"Yeah," his tongue darts out and licks his drenched mustache, "Mmm, good roast, thank you."

"You're welcome," you guffaw, pulling your shirt sleeve taut over your hand, your lip between your teeth and patting the liquid off his face - thank heavens he wasn't in the mood for hot today. Your sleeve will dry in time, much like his shirt will have to do too. You're violently struck with the thought of him taking it off, putting his hairy chest on display for you to ogle at in the romantic candlelight. You hope he can't feel the aroused heat radiating from your cheeks by how close you are as you finish cleaning him up.

Just kiss her, Joel's brain yells at himself while his eyes rake over your beautifully concentrated face, take the opportunity while it's inches away from your reach.

He can't do that to you though, spring something so brash on you out of nowhere. He's not Tommy.

In no time you right the couch together, sitting with your backs against one arm each, legs stretched out and intertwined, weighting it to the floor. Joel pours himself a refill, putting on a show of being overly cautious, which makes you giggle.

"At least I'll smell good," he grumbles up at you from under his lashes. You wish you could appreciate his joke more, but his saturated shirt clinging to his muscles is tormenting your sanity...

"You always smell good," you spit out without your brain's permission. You hurriedly pivot, trying to quash the minute uptick of his brows, "Um, so how have you been? Patrols easy?"

Good, that's a regular, sane question, you congratulate yourself. You haven't seen him for more than a few minutes at a time for the better part of a week, both your duties ramping up as the entire town wanted to have everything taken care of and then some for the holidays.

"Yeah, for the most part. Clickers are like most pests, they retreat when it gets too cold. It's the bandits that get desperate, lookin' for shelter, that you gotta watch out for. I don't want to jinx it but there's only been two individuals that we came across, died of natural causes. Nothin' to worry about."

Throughout his speech he's been running the tip of his finger around the rim of his cup, embarrassed that you're staring. If only he knew.

"How've you been, my little busy bee baker?"

His nickname engorges your heart, pumping praise through your veins. The part you fixate on is "my". You're his.

"On my feet. Thankfully I've only been baking like crazy, someone's been picking up my patrols for me."

"Oh?" Joel puts his best acting mask on. If he could steel through your unintended interrogations before, he can evade you for just a little bit longer.

"Yeah, I get to the stables on my scheduled days and they tell me to go back home, that someone's volunteered to take over my shifts. I wish I knew who they were so I could thank them, I wouldn't have been able to make all of my cookies without their help." Your Christmas present to everyone was personal boxes of homemade cookies. Crafting cookie boxes was one of your favorite things to do before the outbreak, so you thought you'd spread some nostalgic holiday cheer this year.

"Well I'm sure they got their due compensation by way of some of the extras you left over at the church hall."

He was a good boy - he only ate what was in his box and left the extras for the town. He really needs to get that lemon cookie recipe from you though, or better yet, truly indulge himself and ask you to come over and bake them yourself - it wouldn't be a complete lie if he told you he wouldn't be able to make them the same; he can't tell a teaspoon from a tablespoon.

"I hope so."

You and Joel sit and chat for a while, exchanging pleasantries about the weather, anecdotes about your days; topics that sound like they're utilized as a pillow for awkward conversation, but your energy flows gracefully with Joel's, like always.

Bringing it up again like it's the joke you know it to be, unaware of the effect it has on Joel's heart rate, you inquire, "So what were your tactics to seduce your date?"

He pauses for a moment, passing it off as a shared laugh with you and not a dive into an anxiety-riddled black hole before answering, "Reel her in with my natural charm, of course."

"Of course," you nod.

"Maybe crack some jokes, you know, because I'm a funny guy."

"Hilarious. Did you take a look at one of Ellie's joke books?" Joel had told you about the first of her findings, now she has amassed quite an impressive collection.

"No."

"Ugh, talk about missed opportunity! There are some good ones in there."

"Well I figured I wanted my lady to fall in love with me, not the book, so I'd tell them from the heart," he looks directly into your eyes, not wanting to give you any inclination that he might be harboring some unseen lovestruck magma beneath his rocky exterior.

"Oh, how romantic!" you tease.

"And then I brought this," he fishes his guitar from behind himself, stretching back with a groan, "Figured I could strum a song or two and see how she'd like it."

At the incredibly rare occurrence - thank you but still fuck you Tommy - you leap, "I'm your arranged audience, lemme hear!"

Joel sets the guitar in his lap, picking a familiar tune from the chords before he can stop himself. As the notes gather into a song, you come to anticipate the next strums, guessing correctly every time. You've heard this before, but where.... And then you remember. The night where it was so fucking cold you pitied your Romeo who was buried somewhere in the snow beneath your window, braving the temperatures to lull you asleep. What a weird coincidence.

It is a festive song that was immensely popular pre-outbreak, so it's not as strange of a fluke as you first thought. You sit and stare, admiring Joel's fingers dancing, his eyes glued to the instrument to watch what he's doing. You both know he could play blind, but thankfully you breeze over this extraneous, damning piece of evidence, for if you were to look in his eyes, you would see the admirer within.

Fading out, he pats the body with a concluding thump, "Do you think I would've swept her off her feet?"

You shrug, not keen to feed another Miller's ego today, "Maybe, if you had sung."

"Nah, that's reserved for at least date five."

"Ohhh okay," you chuckle. Not a romantic my ass, Joel.

He turns the tables, "What were your plans to woo your partner?"

"Um... well I wasn't going to put much effort in because... I-I already have feelings for someone in particular, and I figured he would never agree to something like this," you stammer, honestly, staring at the certain someone in question.

Confidence is injected back into Joel's face on a bright wave of intrigue, "You've got a crush?! And didn't tell me, your best friend?"

He sits up straight, eyes wide and mouth agape in a smile, messing with you, "Your reaction is exactly why I didn't tell you, dork."

"So you weren't even going to try with them? Oof, that's cold," he playfully scolds you.

"Looks who's talking, Mister Iceberg."

He ends his taunting at that. You certainly aren't wrong.

A few comfortably quiet moments pass, then you shiver with a laugh, "I actually am cold."

His beard scrunches in a smile, favoring his jacket to yours and tucking it over your shoulders, running a hand over your bicep once, twice, before reluctantly retracting it to his lap. You wish you could steal it; you'd bite past the tough material and sleep with it if it meant you could snuggle into his residual heat, the worn-in scent of fir sap, wood shavings, black coffee.

He whacks the primal, possessive urge inside him down like a mole, his blood stirring just looking at you in his clothes. He'll dream of you dressed both in more of them and less of them tonight.

The candles in the room have burned a substantial amount of their wax, the sun still shining bright but from a narrower angle behind the clouds continuously dropping snow. Maintaining the front that you're angry at Tommy for this is going to be near impossible to accomplish. You can already see yourself wishing on the stars next year for this very same gift.

Okay, maybe with a more comfortable sitting arrangement. While the tumble was funny and allowed you to get close to Joel, your back is killing you. You can't imagine what Joel's must feel like right now. Later tonight, when you've returned to town and after having dinner with him and Ellie, you'll direct him to lay down on his bed - like after any other intense patrol - and work the knots out of his spine.

"I'm happy we're here," you blurt. Suppressing your delight is useless.

Joel relieves some of the pressure in his heart, "Me too."

Goddamn that drawl brings you to your knees. Sure, it makes your stomach fill with butterflies every time he opens his mouth, but sometimes it mercilessly shoves you onto your back. You rally yourself and press forward boldly, "I'm happy you're here."

His expression doesn't move, sending a shallow ripple of alarm through you. He seems a bit off, usually he gives you a smile or something.

Holy fuck, his brain shouts, holy fuck, holy fuck, holy fuck, holy fuck.

"I, um, brought some cookies too," he chokes out. He's about to reveal his big, stinking secret, and while it won't be quite verbal, that somehow makes it ten times more anxiety-inducing. Clawing talons of fear in his throat tempt him to take you by the shoulders and just scream 'I love you!'

Shit, you thought. Was what I said really that bad? You helplessly try to stick the bandaid back on the wound while Joel is preparing to rip it off.

"Wow, you were really going all out," you reference all the stops he had planned for his hypothetical date. Lucky son of a bitch.

"Yeah," he shrugs, trying to keep the tin steady in his clammy hands, "Would you like one?"

"Sure. Are they mine and you were going to pawn them off as yours?"

Your cute joke goes right over Joel's head as he pries the lid off, swallowing thickly and holding it aside so you can reach in and grab a chocolate crinkle. Never would he think of a cookie being sadistic, but his disconcerted soul is claiming otherwise.

Like the shattered powdered sugar coating, your conviction cracks. No way this is a coincidence.

You look up to Joel to find his side profile suspended in worry. You feel the gears in your head turn and he swears he hears them moving at a frightening speed, "Di-did you make these?"

"Mmhm," his throat is tight. He's made of marble, holding the tin open, unmoving. He knows you know and you know he knows you know.

A handful of silent beats pass, regrettably dangling him in suspense, but you're completely dumbfounded, "Why didn't you say anything?"

"I- I was afraid. Still am," he puts lamely in his opinion, bravely in yours.

"Don't be," you assure gently, placing a hand on his rigid forearm. Like an ax, you snap him free of immobility, pushing the incriminating tin away.

He layers his hand over yours, rubbing his thumb across your knuckles and back again, calming himself more so than you, "You know me, you know I have a hard time expressing my... emotions."

He snarls the last word like having a heart that beats is something to be ashamed of. You do know him, and flirtatiously retort, "Sure didn't seem like you had a hard time expressing them outside my bedroom window at midnight, sneaking around my house in the morning, rigging the patrol schedule behind my back..."

Your welcoming smile spreads to his face, "Why are you always right?" he grumbles.

"I have to balance you out somehow if we're a couple. Opposites attract, right?" you lean in, flicking your eyes from his hazel puddles to his mouth and back again. He reads the unmistakable cue and meets you, pressing his lips softly to yours.

On the second kiss, he molds his mouth to yours firmly, allowing a moan to reverberate up his throat. You sound one back as he pulls you forward, situating one thigh outside each of his so you're straddling his lap. Wrapping your arms around his neck and his around your waist, you lose all concept of time, your mouths dancing infinitely... before Joel abruptly breaks you apart.

"Hang on."

"What?" you pant.

"We ain't under any mistletoe," he muses, scooting you off the couch to directly under a bundle. Brushing your hair away to reveal your face, he gazes up at you in awe, his body finally at peace - but not for long, when you break out into a smile and him a sweat.

"You really are a funny guy, Joel Miller," you tease against his parted lips, feeling his confirmation vibrate your tongue as you go in for another kiss,

"Hilarious."

main masterlist ♡ join my taglist!

💘taglist: @pedrostories @pascalpanic @maievdenoir @tenderwhat @melody13522 @your-voice-is-mellifluous

#pedrostoriesgift22 #pedrostories #joel miller x reader #tlou joel #joel tlou #joel miller #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fanfiction

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missdreamshade · 4 years ago

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All I Want For Christmas

Since it’s officially less than a month from Christmas, I got inspiration to write a longer holiday version of my other post 💕 : Yandere!Jungkook Imagine: He Finally Found You

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x reader

Genre: yandere au

Summary: Your psychotic boyfriend finally found you after you managed to slip from his clutches on Christmas night

Warnings: yandere content, abusive, toxic, unhealthy relationships/ themes, reader being held against her will, please read at your own risk

Perhaps running away in the dead of a holiday night wasn’t your best idea. The sidewalks and roads were frozen over with thick layers of snow and ice. The outside air held a vicious chill that nipped you to your core. The sky had already blackened, leaving nothing more than dim street lights or cheap holiday decorations to illuminate your way. Any shops that were once open until later hours closed down early, not to reopen again until the next day. Which meant there wasn’t a single soul roaming around in sight that could save you.

Aside from the very man you fled from. The very man you were sure was somewhere on your trail.

After zigzagging through the city’s streets for what felt like hours, you made a sudden turn and sprinted into a much darker alleyway, before ducking behind the nearest object. One that happened to be a large, open dumpster that both offered you sanctuary, yet also blocked your view of the alley’s entrance. Snow melted against the fabric of your sneakers as you crouched down. It sept in through the various cracks and seems until it froze the very last part of your body that held a sliver of warmth.

But in your frantic and distraught mind - it was worth it.

Every second was worth it. The painful pulsing of your beet red fingers. The burning of your lungs as they sucked in the frozen evening air, which only made the stinging ten times worse. The tears that seemingly have iced over on your cheeks. Even the aching numbness that slowly began spread throughout your body. It was all worth it as long as it meant you could finally be free from him.

“I don’t want a lot for Christmas, there is just one thing I need..”

The silence that once could be considered comforting, shattered almost instantly, at the faint sound of an innocent song being hummed just slightly in the distance.

“I don’t care about the presents, underneath the Christmas tree..”

There was no music to accompany the sudden singing. No drums or extra voices that could speculate it coming from a radio, or maybe, a merry band of Christmas carolers. No, there was only one voice that sang the sweet lyrics with such a sinister tone. One voice that was far too eerily familiar to provide you any peace of mind.

It was him. Jungkook. Without a single doubt.

“I just want you for my own,” Jungkook’s singing got closer as the sound of snow crunching beneath his boots suddenly could be heard, acting almost like a disturbing background melody, “More than you could ever know.”

Your breath hitched as the noises grew closer and closer. An immediate feeling of dread washed through you, causing your guts to twist and fiery bile to rise in your throat. Thoughts of up and running swarmed inside your mind, but fighting against them, you forced yourself to stay put. Your body was too numb, and in too much pain, to even consider standing up. And even if you managed to, there was no way you could outrun him if he was this close. The best option was to not move an inch and stay hidden, or at least that’s what you told yourself on repeat - like a broken record.

Yet the volume of the intrusive thoughts increased with every footstep, getting louder and louder, until everything stopped. Silence hung thick in the air as you held your breath, too scared to make even the slightest of sounds. But once your vision began to become blurry - distorted - you sucked some air in through your nose to ease at least some of the burning in your chest.

Just then, the singing started back up again. Except to your undying horror, the lyrics bounced off the alley walls, getting closer to your cowering frame.

“Make my wish come true..”

Again, for the second time, deafening silence flooded back in. A pin could be dropped down the street, yet it would be heard clearly from the corner you’ve tucked yourself in. Minutes ticked by, and still there was nothing. No shadows looming up the brick walls. No snow being smothered under a person’s body weight. It started to feel like you were safe, that Jungkook passed by your hiding spot without thinking twice.

However, your fantasy was short lived once a hand wrapped itself around your ankle and tugged roughly. While a sharp scream erupted from your throat, your body was dragged across the mixture of gravel and snow until you were laying flat against the ground, staring up at the man you desperately tried to escape from.

“Bunny, all I want for Christmas is you,” Jungkook finished singing his verse before a smirk tugged up on his lips. Even with the sheer darkness clouding your vision, you knew it was him. And you knew the grin was plastered on his features.

Shooting your free leg out, you hysterically tried to hit him, somewhere - anywhere - just to break free. But once his other hand pinned the limb to the frozen ground, tears spilled from your eyes as never ending sobs spewed from your lips.

“J-Jungkook, please, don’t! Please, let me go..” you cried, yet your pleads fell upon deaf ears.

“You know, it wasn’t very nice of you to run out on Christmas, of all days. And here I thought you said you wanted to spend it with me.”

He bent down, after the words hit your ears, and shifted his iron-tight grip from your legs to your arms. In seconds. you were hoisted off the ground as if you weighed no more than a bag of potatoes you could find at any grocery store. Your legs began kicking again as you desperately squirmed in his grip; the tears never stopping, the fear never fading.

“No!” Another scream squeezed past your lips once you realized you were being dragged out of the alley, and towards the street.

It felt that your prayers were answered when Jungkook halted on the spot, but it was only for a split of a moment. He whirled you around, pinning your back against his chest, your arms at your sides. His hot breath fanned your cheek, offering only milliseconds of warmth, until his lips moved elsewhere.

“Scream one more time, and I promise you - you won’t be seeing New Years,” the threat rolled off his tongue in a low growl before his lips grazed across the shell of your ear, “Now, let’s go home, shall we? You haven’t finished opening up your presents yet, bunny.”

~ • ~

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abysscronica · 3 years ago

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In your scenarios with Birdie being a moth there was that scene when she needed to breastfeed and so she just whipped out the girls without much thought to heat/wire/killer being in the room (which was HILARIOUS btw) so a few questions based on that

1) was she always that bold when it came to feeding her kids when it came to the first two or was it more of a “by the third she just didn’t gaf and wanted to get it done” kind of thing😂

2) so in Captive kid didn’t really seem to have that much of a serious issue with birdie being nude in front of others like killer (like when she went out in his coat) and kind of used it as a way to embarrass and poke fun and her, so when he freaks out at birdie for poppin a tit in front of his most trusted crew members was it an actual “I’m worried they might get lustful thoughts about my girl” thing or more of a “it’s the principle of the matter” thing?

3) did birdie get any particularly weird pregnancy cravings? I know some of them stem from the baby taking too many vitamins or minerals so I can just imagine her spooning salt into her mouth like “fuck it I need something salty right tf now and this is the quickest solution”

Also just some funny thoughts I had: I feel bad for Doc cause being a pirate doctor probably doesn’t exactly require a lot of knowledge on pregnancies so the poor man probably had to study up on it real hard and have to see parts of birdie waaay more often than he would’ve liked to😂 also I can just imagine Heat being the best boy he is getting Birdie a little something as a kind of baby shower gift since she helped him out with getting a lady gift I can see him shyly giving her a poorly crocheted blue baby hat that’s way too big but it’s the thought that counts🥺💕 (also I was the one who originally suggested it so let me again say: justice for kid!! Give the man a little titty suck after the actual kid gets their turn for curiosity’s sake!!)

Hey, thank you for your questions! Let's dive right into them.

Actually, the scene you're referring to happens with the twins, her first kids. So yeah, she didn't care much from the beginning. The thing is birdie doesn't really mind her nudity in general, it's not something she's particularly prudish about. Even before having kids, she mentions that every man had seen her naked at some point. She probably saw them too. If she trusts someone, it's not a big deal for her.

Kid doesn't care about her nudity in the early phases of Captive, when he doesn't have feelings for birdie yet. As his feelings grow, so does his possessiveness. That time with Killer, Kid wasn't actually present and he didn't see the incident. However, when it comes to his trusted men, it's more of a "principle" thing. He's not jealous because he thinks they may try something, or lust over birdie for real, but he doesn't like that they know her body and can picture her naked. He wants to be the only one who knows all of her scars, moles, spots, whatever.

I bet birdie had a lot of cravings. I will write something about it in the future, probably a one shot on her second pregnancy. I also think Heat is the one who indulged her the most, he would get up in the middle of the night to get what she wanted more than Kid would. Killer also would make sure that they're always stocked up on different kinds of food. Kid is less patient, so he'd let them handle it for the most part, probably force some of the other men to be at birdie's disposal too. 😭 But he would be there for the horny phase, that's for sure, he was waiting for it like his personal hot Christmas. ♥️

I haven't really written anything on birdie's first pregnancy because that happened when they were still in the scramble for the One Piece, so the situation was very complicated. I have ideas, but I'm waiting to see what happens with the Kid Pirates in canon because I want to know if/how I can turn it canon for my stories.

But yeah, the doctor would have to dust his knowledge on gynecology and obstetrics a lot, and Heat would be best big bro. ❤️ He'd definitely get a baby shower gift for birdie, probably force the other men to do the same.

ALSO you convinced me, I will write a Breastfeeding 3.0 one shot when Kid finally conquers his goals. 💪

#captive #emperors #dad eustass kid #eustass kid x birdie #eustass kid x reader #kid pirates #killer #heat

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piastrinorris · 2 years ago

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🪞I'm a nerdy, hippie bookworm. I love writing, reading, cooking, and making people laugh. I would also love to be shipped with someone 💕 congratulations on your absolutely well-earned following, love! xoxo, @munson-blurbs 💚

hiiiii bug <3 thank you!! ily!!!

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ 2k follower celebration event ongoing! ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

oooh okay i see you working in a cute lil bakery, usually in the back making all the treats but one day you're short staffed so you're also working the counter whenever people come in. it's hawkins, so it's always the same people: mr clark comes in on his lunch break to grab some donuts for the av club; karen wheeler buys holly a cookie just before the school rush; officer callahan buys pastries for the other officers' breakfasts.

except not on the day you're working out front. a sweet and simple stranger with a kind smile orders an argyle, but it takes a couple of times reminding him that that's not an option for him to tell you that he's just introducing himself. he suddenly doesn't remember what he was supposed to order when he came in now that he's seen you, but that's okay, you'll happily talk him through what you've got on offer.

he manages to ask you if you've got plans later, but you tell him that since it looks like you'll be working the lunch rush, you'll spend the evening rushing to the bookstore to get the latest book in your favourite series. he shows up again at lunchtime with the book you wanted in hand, just so that you don't stress that pretty head of yours. he has to go back to work straight after, though he doesn't tell you where, so the only time you can see him is when he comes in again. which is nearly every day, and he specifically asks for "kitchen girl". only problem is that he practically bewitches you whenever he's there, so you always forget in the moment to find out where to find him at any other time.

until one day, you can't find it in you to cook yourself dinner, and that new surfer boy pizza joint opened up a few months ago that you've been dying to try out. it's like christmas has come early for the both of you when you answer the door to argyle holding your pizza. you finally tell him to feel free to come back when his shift is over, but he walks himself into your house, sees you halfway through your new book, and asks you to describe the whole series to him. he hangs off your every word.

#*2kcelebration #fic: argyle

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firegiftlouis · 2 years ago

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Yeah that guy ain’t even taste good, poor Louis I would’ve treated you right 😤.

You ever traumatize a milk man during your walk of shame? Lol

I’m sorry but the SUN CAN FUCKING KILL YOU NOW is probably one of the first things I’d lead with Lestat just saying 🙄.

“You’ve had a long life” hello?? He’s younger than you were when you were turned. Confirmation that Lestat is one of those people that act like your life ends by the time you reach 25 😂. Or maybe that was a long life for his century in fairness? 🤔 don’t know what the life span was back then but…

Ok just checked and the life expectancy back then was like 30 by the end of the 1700’s which is roughly around the time Lestat got turned (1794) and was 37 by 1810 so Lestat is showing his age here but otherwise I guess that line is understandable….with his old ass 😂

“White master, Black student but equal in the quiet dark” lol get his ass Danny, point out the glaringly obvious power imbalance early💕

Louis looks so cute eating that fox im sorry. But also just noticed that his hand is still burnt from earlier in the morning which is interesting to note. I think Louis heals slower than he should be cause of his very limited diet of human blood. I don’t know how much Blood a vampire needs eat to be satisfied but I think it’s safe to say Louis is probably consuming less than that.

“I did not readily take to killing” yeah I bet, your first kill was so unsexy 😭. Also he’s apparently had nightmares about it which is interesting.

Louis isn’t surprised at all that Finn wants to steal from him like I said in the last episode.

Interesting that reading minds is described as just another sound the organs make. Also Louis seems to take exception to the idea that humans only think about 3 things at any given moment, I wonder if this comes from the complex social games he had to play all of his life? And when Lestat says he can’t read Louis’ mind any more and Louis says “just like the meat” it’s like he’s saying, so we’re not that much different from them after all.

Ok finally a first (rough) date! Mama Du Lac says Louis hasn’t seen them in “half a season”. This looks like some kind of Christmas party so assuming that is the case it’s only been a month or two since Louis was turned, and since the funeral.

Also Mama Du Lac seems to be surprised Louis knew exactly what she was thinking about the glasses. Also “I could tell by the look on your face” explaining how he knew Grace is pregnant like lol Louis you aren’t hiding your new supernatural powers very well sir 😂

I miss his and Grace’s relationship so much 😭

“Call the balconies fire escapes” ok love a loop hole Louis, also already displaying how his words are how he gets around most situations.

Lol what is Daniel writing and underlining on his note pad during Louis’ “and then I killed him” speech 😂. He’s really giving therapist right here, be careful Danny I’m a firm believer Louis ate the last one 😂.

“Yes let’s have this conversation again” clearly y’all needed to have this convo a couple of times Lestat because it clearly didn’t stick lol 🙄

Louis in his girl boss era, love to see it. Also I love Bricktop’s outfit there 💕

Started paying the staff and band better, that’s nice lol it is interesting to note that the shame of being a pimp seems to have dissipated the moment he could make it as classy as he possibly could (the azalea was everything he always wanted). It’s like he’s saying sure it’s still exploitation but at least he made it far more palatable lol. And in a way I feel like a lot of people think like this growing up in capitalism but let me not go on a rant lol. Imma just say capitalism is the real vampire 😂.

Also he paid back Lestat every cent and made a point of mentioning this despite claiming it was a “pointless point of pride”, it’s like he’s trying his best to convince himself they’re equals despite needing his signature to buy the saloon in the first place.

Ok another date: Louis says he made a “mountain of money” from 1812 to 1817. So it looks like Louis took over the the FairPlay and turned it into the Azalea in 1812. We know next episode is 1817.

Ok so Grace already had the twins (that Louis haven’t even met yet) and it’s been long enough that she’s had the nephew by now too. This time frame is pretty vague unfortunately since we aren’t getting exact dates at this point, but it’s at minimum 1812 or later.

Before leaving Grace picked up a stack of money so I looks like Louis is still giving them a decent amount of cash still.

Ok so at this point the twins are also still babies which means that Benny and the twins must be a year or so apart at most. So maybe it’s still 1812 or maybe 1813 at the latest?

Louis’ last kill was in the year 2000, and thus raises the question what the hell happened with that kill in particular that he decided to stop killing people for at least 22 years? Hope we find out next season 👀.

Also for the record I don’t think Louis ate the baby but I don’t feel like expanding on that right now lol 🤭

Louis is now strong enough to hear the thoughts of other vampires from “1000s of miles away” and yet his his hand still hasn’t healed yet? 👀 how long is the healing factor of a vampire anyways?

Now I might be reading too into these lines but when Louis mentions the “meth addicted son of a coal miner from West Virginia” was that a reference to Daniel’s past? He definitely seems to get on the defensive when Louis says that. I don’t know if we know where Daniel is from exactly but it sounds like that might be his back story? Based on his reaction by bringing the baby up again (Provocation being one of his main tools/defense mechanisms).

And the “Arab youth whose family was wiped clean by a western drone” is that supposed to be Rashid’s backstory that the two of them cooked up? Again might be reading too into these lines but these are very specific backstories Louis just brought up in response to the type of people who would want to live forever and willingly choose vampirism.

All that moaning Louis is doing when “sucking Damek off” lol slut 💕

Ok so far Louis had less than a pint of AB blood, a fox, and he fed off of Damek. I did some research and assuming Daniel is right about his rough estimate of Damek’s weight (200 pounds) Louis could safely drink at maximum 228ml of blood or 0.42 pints of blood. Looks like he drank a little more than he should have because Damek passes out right after, which can happen if someone looses blood too quickly, so let’s assume it was at least half a pint of blood straight from Damek.

So he’s had a little over a pint of blood between Damek and the blood bag from earlier so far and some animal blood from the Fox which we all know isn’t sufficiently nourishing enough for vampires. I don’t know exactly how much blood vampires need to comfortably function but I imagine it’s more than a pint lol. Especially since humans can have 1.2 to 1.5 gallons of blood in them depending on weight.

Also Louis is already “skipping meals” according to Lestat and this is literally their honeymoon phase 😭. What is going ON Louis???

Louis wants to make his own family maybe as a way to replace the family he currently has since he’s only growing more and more distant from them. We can see both from episode 1 and 2 family is very important to Louis.

The way Lestat says “I’m your family Louis” 😭 my worstie can have a bit of sympathy right here, as a treat 💕

“You should just throw me in the incinerator and make another one” lol a bit melodramatic bestie 💕

The nice music playing over the dialogue does a great job of helping you miss the line about how Lestat enjoyed it when Louis fought back, like fight back against WHAT? This is literally supposed to be the honey moon years, hello???

So at this point Louis and Lestat have been together for a few years now and up until the Opera Louis has no idea how many other vampires might be out there and said he and Lestat “can’t be the only ones”. Meaning that he was under the impression, at least briefly that that might very well be the case.

Louis really seems to like the idea that even Lestat as detached as he tries to act about humans still had his human attachments, like his love of music and those who create it. And how it separates man from food (despite saying otherwise next episode).

“To be kind, he did not live in the soprano’s vocal stratosphere.” Lmaooo Louis that’s you being kind?? 😂 Go off snob, love to see it 💕

“Road side gas stations” “Witless swamp dwellers” these lines are so bitchy, love it.

Ok hang on we just got another rough date! Louis says at this point he’s been Lestat’s pupil for 6 years now. Which means it’s 1816 by now!

First time we see Louis with a book, yay!

“You don’t have to humiliate him” I find Louis’ logic very interesting and I think it harkens back to his business as a brothel owner. Like yeah use women’s bodies, many of whom are Black to make a profit but at least pay them well, and even provide some of them with upward mobility. Sure we can kill the tenor but we don’t have to humiliate him before doing so. Provide drugs to those who are addicted so you can drink their Blood and feel those drugs yourself, sure you’re enabling an addiction but at least the needles are clean and the drugs are high quality. Do bad thing, BUT do it in the least bad way possible? Lol Louis your morals are quite gray to say the least 😂

I really like Sam’s delivery of the “kill them swiftly” scene.

Lestat’s pupils are so blown out here and I can’t blame him, Louis looks extra pretty here 😍

Also Louis not wanting to disappoint Lestat at this point 😭 and then calling himself a botched vampire.

There’s something weirdly sweet about using this specific desert because he read about it in Daniel’s memoir.

So he proposed to his first wife “after getting his shit together” no exact date or anything yet but good to know. Also her name was Alice.

Alright and that’s the end of this episode, I think was surprised how little Lestat was in this episode I don’t know why but it felt like he was there more? I mean he was there but I thought he was more prominent? I don’t know what I’m saying lol. Also just realized the sailor guy is called Jacked Sailor in the credits 😂.

I like the moment at the end with Daniel and Louis, their chemistry really shined through this episode I think.

Ok starting the second episode today I’m fucking tired and have no idea if I can get through the third today as well but we’ll see 😭

#renewing my fandom license #season 1 #episode 2

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