#Cree the creep

[trollsarecute]

OOOO Broppppppyyy!!!!!

Branch: *after a long day of hard working stretches*

Me: *notices his abbs and how thick he is*

Branch: *notices and winks*

Me: *blushes and thinks* damn! he gotta to do that to me?!

Branch: *walks over to me in my direction*

Me: *notices but keeps head down trying not to show any signs of blushing*

Branch: *sits next to me* ( Hey Ik this isn't a part of this story but I just about a couple minutes ago I was busy dyeing because....Listen to this. I was busy typing on this and I got a call and my phone was flipped so I didn't know who it was, I thought it was my dad cause he went out and I got of have to phone close to me in case he needs something quick. I thought it was him, then when I Turned it over Instead of it B Dad "don't wanna say the last name cause it's ours" so Instead of that It was a bit bolky text and my vision wasn't that clear then when I looked at it more I read scam Likely I did an evil smirk and In my head I kept saying "do it! you have the chance to finally do something you've been wanting to do cause everyone does it around you and YOU know you wanna be a part of the fun" I ended up doing It. as soon as I picked it up there was nothing so I put the phone to my ear and I said "hello" ...........This is what scared me a little.......There was a deep voice that belonged to a man that said HELLLOOOO BACKKKKKKKKK😭😭😭😰. Then I did it........Quickly I said...."YOU SUCK" then I hung up🤣🤣😭😭😭😰😰😰BUT THE VOICE WAS SO DAMN DEEEEEEEEEPPPP.)

Me: *heart thumps a million times a minute*

Branch: I hop your not simping over him. *Points over to creek*

Me: Aww hell nah bro! He's disgusting!

Branch: *smiles while signing and placing his hand onto his chest* good, that's good.

A moment of silence.

Me: Yes I'm gushing over you.

Branch: OOOOOOO You gonna sing a song about how much you hate em?

Me: I have a bad voice, not sure if you wanna let me sing....

Branch: I'm sure its great!

Me aww thanks. But I'll do it for you.

Branch: *sits and waits*

Me: 8starts raping a song*

The creepo comes over....

Branch: *glares to the right of me*

Me: *notices and looks and eyes widen as he gains closer to the both of us so I then sit not wanting to be up next to em*

Creek: Oi mate! Were you...just talking about me?

Me: hm!? I'm sorry I'm death I can't hear you!!!!!

Creek: *tries to do sign language but fails*

Me and Branch: *laughs*

Me: All's I got was hand moments.....If I were you I'd take some sign Language classes ..

Creek: *glares at me*

Branch: I mean.........*laughs*

Me: Ik I can't help that I'm funnier then creek....Oh shoot sorry CREEP!!!-

Creek: *Is taken back and collects himself before walking away angrily*

Me: *smirks and laughs and looks over at branch who's face Is cherry red and laughs at that as well*

Okay guys Ik this may look like a gip but I'm not feeling well and I got a cold and I really don't feel like it and I didn't want to keep you guys waiting and concerned. Anyways. I'm not going to check it cause I just don't feel like it. Anyways Odios!!!!

[stephensmithuk]

The Creeping Man

I've not really got much I can say about this one.

Originally published in 1923.

Camford is clearly a stand-in for either Oxford or Cambridge. Both are of course pretty close to London and easily accessible by rail.

Klinger provides some discussion of the views on this in his Annotated - the balance of probability is for Oxford.

The EC postal district of London includes nearly all the City of London and some bits of the surrounding boroughs.

An alienist is a dated term for a psychiatrist. The Alienist was also the name of a two-season drama on TNT based on the 1994 Caleb Carr novel of that name and its sequel.

Commercial Road is a 1.9 miles long street in the East End, connecting the City and the Docklands; it is part of the A13 running to Shoeburyness via Tilbury, remaining a very busy road.

This is considered the most science-fiction-esque of all the stories in the canon.

[naurnaville]

...He liked to think aloud in my presence. His remarks could hardly be said to be made to me—many of them would have been as appropriately addressed to his bedstead—but none the less, having formed the habit, it had become in some way helpful that I should register and interject. If I irritated him by a certain methodical slowness in my mentality, that irritation served only to make his own flame-like intuitions and impressions flash up the more vividly and swiftly. Such was my humble role in our alliance.

While reading through CREE, I found how funny it was to me how modest Watson places himself as, which I think can lead to borderline undermining himself through describing his acts of service as simply "humble". Though he's certainly honest about his efforts when mentioning how he isn't at the same intellectual speed as Holmes, I feel as if he's overlooking just how important his supposed "humble abilities" are. I mean, the fact that the whole paragraph is basically about how he's able to reliably provide a shining light to Holmes' mental abilities and thought process is kind of ironic to how modest he wants to place himself as, including how he compares his usual presence while Holmes is thinking to no different than "his bedstead". Though the latter point being more about Holmes' usual thinking process, I believe that he overlooks just how strong and reliable of a companion he is by focusing on what he's supposedly not as well equipped on, but even Holmes himself has commented on how undermining Watson is to himself as a whole more than once:

...I would take this opportunity to remark that if I burden myself with a companion in my various little inquiries it is not done out of sentiment or caprice, but it is that Watson has some remarkable characteristics of his own to which in his modesty he has given small attention amid his exaggerated estimates of my own performances. A confederate who foresees your conclusions and course of action is always dangerous, but one to whom each development comes as a perpetual surprise, and to whom the future is always a closed book, is indeed an ideal helpmate.

Here, in BLAN, Holmes notes on how Watson does, in fact, consistently put down his own reliable abilities to strengthen Holmes', and even goes to say how ideal of a companion he is because of his "weaknesses". This also extends to:

...And here it is that I miss my Watson. By cunning questions and ejaculations of wonder he could elevate my simple art, which is but systematized common sense, into a prodigy.

Not only is Holmes literally overlooking his own abilities here, but he is, at the same time, trying to uplift Watson's abilities and how notable his presence is, which seems to be nearly the exact opposite as how Watson sees himself as. He really is more than just a "humble whetstone" to Holmes, and it's ironic and a little discouraging how this essentially continues throughout the canon, with some exceptions. Even with these cases both in the press, they still can't come to the same conclusion between each other, that they are being too modest about themselves to the other. The mutual "humble and simple service" is really interesting to see throughout the canon, if not all of it, but just a bit disappointing.

[eirinstiva]

I wanted to make a serious analysis about "The adventure of the creeping man" but I just laugh when I remember that everything could have been solved with a prescription of sildenafil.

[teaformrholmes]

Mr Bennett drew a little diary book from his pocket. 'That was on July 2nd,' said he. 'You are certainly an admirable witness,' said Holmes.

"The Creeping Man," Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

[meirimerens]

sorry for herb briding. i am possessed

[thehardkandy]

i do think programming is very fun to do for work because it's like you will go and make up this cool little thing and then you even get to do show and tell where you show it for everyone to see how cool it is

[sthavoc]

Imagine Enzo and the guys being out and maybe grabbing lunch and there's a girl and some friends sitting next to them. Someone comes up go her and asks her out in spanish and she replies in english that she doesn't speak spanish. After the man leaves she starts speaking in spanish to her friends and the boys laugh. Enzo and her hit it off. Idk pay no mind to this. It's nonsense

៚🍹𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐄 | ENZO VOGRINCIC

·˚ ༘ pairing: enzo x fem!reader

·˚ ༘ summary: you go out with your friends for brunch and a guy casually decides to ask you out, but you are not interested, though you decide to exchange a few words with enzo.

·˚ ༘ warnings: cussing. (I believe that is it)

·˚ ༘ note: bestie I loved this idea it’s not nonsense! we can always find a way to work with what we get! and I love this kind of fics 😭 they’re so cool to write. also three posts tdyyy

“Dios, ese chico lleva haciéndote ojitos desde que llegamos.” One of your friends, Sofia, giggles bringing her head down.

“Ew.” A scowl plasters onto your face. It wasn’t that you considered he was unattractive, it was his personality, the way he wanted to appear more masculine than what he already wanted to be.

He kept trying to do seductive looks and would wave the waitress away. What a jerk. Was also ordering drink after drink.

Gross. Was your thought.

“No, y que venga acá.” Another one of your friends, Lucy, speaks making you choke on your drink.

“¡No lo manifiestes!” You whispered a shout making your friends giggle, and if you weren’t mistaken also the table of boys next to you.

It was your usual brunch hangout that you had with your friends before continuing with your day together as a group. All you wanted was to have one of those moments, not for it to be ruined by a random guy that you were thoroughly not interested in.

“Eso te pasa por ponerte ese perfume que dice ven a mi, tarada.” One of your friends, Javier says. His remark made you roll your eyes before you answered—

“Ay cállate que no sirve. Lo compré en broma.”

He laughs tossing his head back. “Como si crees en la manifestación pero no en esto pelotuda, es básicamente lo mismo”

“Uh oh. Ahí viene.” Lucy takes the attention while taking a sip off of her drink before turning the other way to not look at the scene, and act distracted as if they were not paying attention to the guy.

“Hola.” The whole table went quiet when the guy reached your space, including the table next to you. How embarrassing for this fellow. “Te me hiciste muy guapa y quisiera saber si te gustaría tomar algo conmigo.”

At this moment you had two choices, immediately reject the guy, or humble him in front of everybody. You weren’t cruel, you just didn’t like men who wanted to appear more manly. Plus, you didn’t know English for nothing, it wouldn’t hurt to put it to use.

“I’m sorry, I don’t speak Spanish.” The three of your friends choked on their drinks trying not to giggle at the way you looked up at the guy, and him only staring back in confusion.

“Perdón, no entiendo.” His words were followed by a nervous laugh, that he immediately got rid of.

“Que no sabe español, boludo.” Javier was not repentant to call him stupid.

The guy only swallowed and excused himself before leaving, he had paid for his tab before walking out of the restaurant. Your friends didn’t resist and were laughing at the situation, and again, the table next to you.

“Que imbécil.” You sighed with a chuckle before taking a bite of your food. You realized your drink was half empty and you decided to get up and go towards the open bar to order a refill.

You had walked over towards the bar and asked for your drink, with elbows on the cold, rigid surface as you waited. You felt the presence of another body next to you that made you turn their way. That’s when you recognized it was one of the guys that was sitting at the table next to yours.

“Tremenda jugada que le hiciste al hombre.” He mentions with a chuckle that made a smile somewhat creep on your lips, with a look in your eyes.

“Se veía como un patan.” Yo say spinning your body towards him.

The man stayed quiet for a moment and you took that silence to secretly scan him, he had curly hair, and brown eyes, and he wore a simple black t-shirt with jeans. Simple, but he pulled it off.

“Seguro que lo era.” He interrupts your thinking bringing you back to the sense of reality. “Enzo.” His hand stayed in the middle waiting for you to shake.

What a nice name.

“T/N.” You interlocked your hand with his giving it a small shake. His lips gave you a smile that you thought was one of the most gorgeous ones you had seen. What a man.

“¿Tengo algo en la cara?” He brought up making you let go of his hand and break the contact.

You shook for head before you responded “Eh no, no. Para nada, todo bien.”

“Bueno entonces, ¿no te molestaría si te pido tu número? ¿O también me vas a decir que no hablas español?” He joked earning your smile with a shake of the head.

“Buena esa.” You snickered inclining your head towards the side for a split second before you began to dig into your purse for something to write with, but all that you could find was a lip liner.

You deftly removed the cap from your lipliner using your teeth, holding it securely between them as you reached over to Enzo's arm. You gently placed your hand on his forearm, feeling the warmth of his skin. Enzo's eyes remained fixed on you, watching intently as you traced your phone number onto his inner arm with the lip liner. It was a moment of intimacy, one that left a lingering feeling of excitement and anticipation in the air.

“Me hubieras pedido mi celular.” He spoke after you relied back when you finished writing the numbers and putting back the cap of your liner.

“No, esto parece mejor.” You scrunched your nose before you grabbed your drink and walked back to your table.

As the scene unfolded, you remained composed and unfazed, taking a sip of your drink while your friends Lucy, Javier, and Sofia watched in amazement. Although they seemed shocked by what had occurred, you maintained your confidence and composure throughout the ordeal.

“Que tremenda,” Lucy mentions.

“¿No que no servía el perfume?” Javier jokes making all of you laugh before going back to your food.

[inuhalfdemon]

[Drunk Lucifer]: *hiccup* Alastor's creep-piss-cular because he's a fucking deer...*hiccup*

[Alastor Also Drunk]: It's creep-uscular...wait, no.

[Alastor Tries Again]: Cre-piss-cular...nope.

[Alastor Again】: Cree...Crea...Crey...ah, fuck you, yes!

[graveboywalking]

★彡[ɢᴏᴛʜɪᴄ ʜᴏʀʀᴏʀ ɪᴅ ᴘᴀᴄᴋ]彡★

𝙽𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚜:

Ruby ⛧ Absentia ⛧ Scarlet ⛧ Raven ⛧ Dolly ⛧ Lilith ⛧ Brutus ⛧ Isaiah ⛧ Virgil ⛧ Vincent ⛧ Alastair ⛧ Bellatrix ⛧ Robin ⛧ Anastasia ⛧ Dahlia ⛧ Desdemona ⛧ Belial ⛧ Morte ⛧ Narcissa ⛧ Nyx ⛧ Wren ⛧ Willow ⛧ Damien ⛧ Gabriel ⛧ Salem ⛧ Zane ⛧ Osiris ⛧ Lazarus ⛧ Jasper ⛧ Blair ⛧ Crow ⛧ Obsidian ⛧ Rain ⛧ Saber ⛧ Zephyr ⛧

𝙿𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚜:

Xe/Xem/Xyr/Xyrself Cor/Corpse/Corpses/Corpself Gore/Gores/Goreself Haunt/Haunts/Hauntself Necro/Necros/Necroself Vamp/Vamps/Vampself Wit/Witch/Witchs/Witches/Witchself Ghost/Ghosts/Ghostself Ghoul/Ghouls/Ghoulself Spoo/Spooks/Spookself Voi/Void/Voidself Aby/Abyss/Abysself Cree/Creeps/Creepy/Creepself Emp/Empty/Emptys/Emptyself Goth/Goths/Gothself Grave/Graves/Graveself Tomb/Tombs/Tombself Blood/Bloods/Bloodself Fog/Fogs/Fogself Grim/Grims/Grimself Gloo/Gloom/Glooms/Gloomself Wilt/Wilts/WiltedWiltself Nyx/Nyxs/Nyxself Doo/Doom/Dooms/Doomself Bone/Bones/Boneself Dread/Dreads/Dreadself Rot/Rots/Rotself Cat/Cats/Catself BlackCat/Black/Cat/BlackCats/Cats/BlackCatself

𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜:

Gothgender ⛧ Gothcoric ⛧ Redlipgothian/Blacklipgothian ⛧ Gothpresentic ⛧ Gothity ⛧ Gothbodiment ⛧ Tradgothic Graveboywalking IS CURRENTLY MAKING MORE GOTH-THEMED GENDERS !!

𝚃𝚒𝚝𝚕𝚎𝚜:

Black The Cat ⛧ Dead Cat Walking ⛧ (Name) The Dead ⛧ Psychological Goth ⛧ Horror Game Home ⛧ The Dark One ⛧ The One Who Comes Out At Night ⛧ (Name)'s Grave ⛧ (Name) Horror ⛧ (Name)'s Horrors ⛧ Dead On The Scene ⛧ Walking Dead ⛧ The Evil One

[acronym-chaos]

Minecraft Inspired ID Pack

[PT: Minecraft Inspired ID Pack].

[ID: A purple thin line divider shaded at the bottom. End ID].

Names

[PT: Names].

Alex, Amber, Amethyst, Ash, Azalea, Blaze, Block, Brick, Briar, Brielle, Brook, Carver, Celeste, Clay, Cobble, Cree, Crystal, Daisy, Dawn, Dusty, Ember, End, Eve, Flora, Flint, Forge, Garnet, Gemma, Granite, Grayson, Harper, Hazel, Holly, Hopper, Iris, Ivy, Jade, Jett, Juniper, Lapis, Laurel, Lilac, Lily, Maple, Marigold, Mason, Meadow, Miner, Mira, Moss, Nova, Oak, Onyx, Opal, Pearl, Pebble, Poppy, Pyre, Quill, Reed, Red, River, Rocky, Rose, Rowan, Ruby, Sage, Sable, Sapphire, Selene, Shale, Sky, Skylar, Slate, Smith, Spruce, Steele, Stella, Stone, Sunny, Terra, Thalia, Timber, Torch, Violet, Wade, Willow

Pronouns

[PT: Pronouns].

A / Ax / Axe; Bla / Blaz / Blaze; Blo / Block / Blocks; Build / Build / Builds; Cob / Cobble / Cobbles; Cra / Craf / Craft; Cra / Craf / Craft; Cree / Creep / Creeper; Dig / Dig / Digs; E / En / End; Flint / Flint / Flints; Fo / For / Forge; Mi / Mine / Mines; Pi / Pick / Picks [Pickaxe]; Red / Stone / Redstones; Sap / Sapling / Saplings; Shea / Shear / Shears; Sho / Shovel / Shovels; Sme / Smelt / Smelts; Sta / Stack / Stacks; Sto / Stone / Stones; Tor / Torch / Torches; Wo / Wood / Woods

Titles

[PT: Titles].

Builder of Worlds; Crafter of Blocks; Master of the Mines; The Blocksmith; The Brave Explorer; The Collector of Resources; The Creator of Realms; The Defender of the Village; The Ender of Mobs; The Master of the Redstone; The Master Miner; The Pixel Pioneer; The Resource Gatherer; The Survival Expert; [Pronoun] Who Crafts with Precision; [Pronoun] Who Delves Deep; [Pronoun] Who Faces the Nether; [Pronoun] Who Mines and Builds; [Pronoun] Who Shapes the World

[ID: A purple thin line divider shaded at the bottom, end ID].

Requested by @rwuffles on Discord!

Also tagging: @pronoun-arc @id-pack-archive

[pupsmailbox]

MINECRAFT ID PACK

NAMES ⌇ alex. amber. amethyst. ash. azalea. blaze. block. briar. brick. brielle. brier. brook. carver. celeste. clay. cobble. cree. crystal. daisy. dawn. dusty. ember. end. eve. flint. flora. forge. garnet. gemma. granite. grayson. harper. hazel. hero. holly. hopper. iris. ivy. jade. jett. juniper. lapis. laurel. lilac. lily. magnolia. maple. marigold. mason. meadow. miner. mira. moss. nova. oak. onyx. opal. pearl. pebble. poppy. prairie. pyre. quill. red. reed. river. rocky. rose. rowan. ruby. sable. sage. sapphire. selene. shale. sky. skye. skylar. slate. smith. spruce. steele. stella. stephen. stone. sunny. terra. thalia. timber. torch. violet. wade. willow.

PRONOUNS ⌇ adventurer/adventurer. allay/allay. ar/armour. ax/axe. bam/bamboo. bat/bat. bee/bee. biome/biome. birch/birch. blaz/blaze. blaze/blaze. block/block. build/build. bun/bun. cake/cake. chest/chest. clay/clay. cob/cobble. copper/cooper. cow/cow. cra/craft. craf/craft. craft/craft. cre/creative. creep/creeper. creeper/creeper. dark/dark. deep/deepslate. deep/slate. dig/dig. disc/disc. drown/drown. ely/elytra. elytra/elytra. en/end. end/end. end/eye. ender/ender. ender/enderman. enderman/endermen. explorer/explorer. fight/fight. flint/flint. for/forge. fox/fox. ghast/ghast. glow/stone. goat/goat. grav/gravel. heal/heal. hive/hive. hun/hunger. husk/husk. ice/ice. kaboom/kaboom. kelp/kelp. lav/lava. love/love. magma/magma. mi/mine. mine/mine. mob/mob. mod/mod. moosh/mooshroom. mooshroom/mooshroom. musicnote/musicnote. nether/nether. nostalgia/nostalgia. nostalgic/nostalgic. oak/oak. ocean/ocean. ore/ore. over/overworld. over/world. pearl/pearl. phantom/phantom. pi/pick. pig/pig. pig/pigstep. pig/step. play/player. ram/ram. red/stone. sap/sapling. scream/scream. sculk/sculk. sea/sea. shea/shear. sheep/sheep. sho/shovel. shulk/shulker. skele/skeleton. skeleton/skeleton. skulk/skulk. slime/slime. sme/smelt. smp/smp. snow/snow. spawner/spawner. spec/spectator. speed/speedrun. spider/spider. spruce/spruce. sta/stack. sto/stone. strider/strider. surv/survival. survivor/survivor. swo/sword. tele/teleport. terra/terracotta. tnt/tnt. tor/torch. tree/tree. ve/vex. vwoop/vwoop. warden/warden. warp/warped. warrior/warrior. wat/water. wit/wither. wither/wither. wo/wood. wolf/wolf. xp/xp. zomb/zombie. zombie/zombie.

[crees-a]

So.... For some reason, my brain likes to do a silly thing and misread usernames, then stick with that reading of said username

Occasionally I like to tell the person with said username the silly name my brain have come up with

And for you my brain has decided to me that you are now 'Creepsa'

Do with this information what you want

(I literally just discovered today after looking at your username that the first word is not creep - which I find hilarious considering I've been following you for a while)

Sksksk you made me want to change my username

Storytime, when I was a kid I liked a character called Creek so I took his name and changed last letter to make it sound like Chris (I really wanted to be called Chris), so now I'm Crees(A) for ~5 years now

[strawberrysodaslut]

may i request a joel miller fic pretty pretty please? 🥺🙏 maybe one where he has all these panic attacks and has no idea what is wrong with him but reader notices. at first she thinks like ellie: he’s having a heart attack but then realizes it’s not that and she uses the “5 things you can see” technique. obviously she doesn’t want to worry ellie or anything so every time she notices he’s having one of those panic attacks, she gently squeezes his hand a few times. the more it happens, the more joel feels “okay” about it and now, whenever he feels the fear creeping in, he looks for her and holds her hand for a bit because it grounds him 🥲 thank you 💕

Breathe - Joel Miller x GN!Reader

❛ ━━━━━━━━･❪ ❁ ❫･━━━━━━━━━ ❜

❛ ━━━━━━━━･❪ ❁ ❫･━━━━━━━━━ ❜

[main masterlist]

[joel miller masterlist]

❛ ━━━━━━━━･❪ ❁ ❫･━━━━━━━━━ ❜

word count: 2.2k

summary: when joel has his first panic attack, he relies on you to calm him down.

warnings: hurt to comfort, angst, completely SFW, panic attacks/anxiety, mentions of death, guns, no use of y/n and no pronouns directed at reader (i believe), mentions of a heart attack, might not be 100% medically accurate pls don’t use fanfiction as education especially in regards to health, reader kisses joel on the face but that can be either platonic or romantic depending on what you want

authors note: this was supposed to be a blurb… whatever i love it. this request was so cute i loved it, i wish someone was there to help joel though this so bad… also i am so excited to watch ep 7. it’s out now but i’m not watching it until later tonight and i CANT WAIT.

join taglist

❛ ━━━━━━━━･❪ ❁ ❫･━━━━━━━━━ ❜

The first time Joel had a panic attack, he swore he was dying.

He was standing watch while you and Ellie slept, sleeping bags huddled next to each other. His eyes trained on the hand you had resting on Ellie’s head. Fingers in between her hair as if you were stroking her, but it was perfectly still. A smile crossed his face. Even when you were sleeping, you still cared for Ellie.

Your hand drops slightly as Ellie stirs, rolling over in her sleep, but she subconsciously wraps her arms around your own, as if it’s her own personal teddy bear. He sighed, watching the silent bond between you two. Even unconscious, you were so kind, so caring. He wasn’t that. He’d made sure you knew, but you didn’t believe him. You made sure he knew that, too.

The peacefulness of the moment was rare, so rare it felt off putting to him. But it was a reminder to him of what he was protecting. The burdens he bore would be worth it to keep these moments. Even if it was only during sleep.

But those peaceful moments were not only rare, they were painstakingly fast.

A loud creak filled the small cave you had settled in, not loud enough to wake you, but loud enough to snap Joel out of any softness he was feeling. He couldn’t be soft, couldn’t afford it. Softness is weak. And him being weak means you and Ellie dead.

Gun in hand, Joel trudged his way out of the cave. He listened out for any clues to the source of the noise. It’s quiet now, but whatever made that sound is still there, he’s sure of it, and it’s his job to change that. He made his way around the trees, praying that even his deaf ear can pick up on any noises necessary.

Gun in hand, Joel trudged his way out of the cave. He listened out for any clues to the source of the noise. It’s quiet now, but whatever made that sound is still there, he’s sure of it, and it’s his job to change that. He made his way around the trees, praying that even his deaf ear can pick up on any noises necessary.

Gun in hand, Joel trudged his way out of the cave. He listened out for any clues to the source of the noise. It’s quiet now, but whatever made that sound is still there, he’s sure of it, and it’s his job to change that. He made his way around the trees, praying that even his deaf ear can pick up on any noises necessary.

It’s not long until he reached a creek, the rush of the water distracting him from other noises. It’s only then that Joel realised how thirsty he actually was, his throat growing drier as he looks at the water below him. He knows realistically he shouldn’t, but he can’t help but reach into the creek, scooping up the water into the cup of his hands and pouring it into his mouth, he sighs in relief as the cool liquid runs down his throat, feeling some relief.

Now, Joel may be deaf, but he’s able to hear the crunch of leaves from behind him.

He whips around, pointing his gun directly at the source of the sound, ready to protect Ellie, you, and himself from any harm coming from whatever is coming towards him. His eyes drop to find a small animal with two big ears and a lot of fluff… “Jesus Christ,” He mutters, lifting his hand to cover his mouth and swearing under his breath.

It’s a fucking rabbit.

Joel shakes his head in disbelief, staring down at the rabbit as it cautiously hops past him towards the creek, clearly looking to get its own hydration. He’s about to laugh to himself when he hears the same creak from earlier. Howver this time it’s much, much further from where he is. It’s where you and Ellie are.

His feet travel before he can even process what’s happening, fighting his joints to go faster as he goes uphill towards the cave. He’s desperate to get to you, having to stop himself from calling out in case that alerts anything else to your position. He can only hope he gets to you fast enough.

He only stops running once he gets to the cave’s entrance, finding you and Ellie asleep in the same position you were in when he left, unbothered by whatever the noise was. He stepped back outside the cave, listening out for anything that could’ve made that noise. A gush of wind comes through. It’s so strong that the trees are moving quite far, some rubbing on each other.

Wait…

Oh.

It’s the trees.

Joel sighs, but you being safe doesn’t bring him much relief. He looks back, and the two of you are dead to the world. That hadn’t been something dangerous, but it could’ve been. And you would’ve been sitting ducks. He wouldn’t have gotten there fast enough, he knew that. He was too slow. By the time he got to you, it would’ve been too late. You and Ellie would be gone.

His chest tightens.

You would be killed, or worse. God, you’d be so scared. All he can picture is the look on your and Ellie’s faces when you realise you were wrong to trust him, that he couldn’t keep you safe. That all those times he saved you he got lucky, they were flukes. He wasn’t any good at this. He’d gotten you killed.

He’s gonna get the both of you killed.

And he’s gonna be alone again.

His vision blurs as pain strikes him in the chest. He nearly doubles over, gripping to the rock of the cave for support. Breathing has no longer become an option. He gasps for breath, clutching his front.

Joel’s mind races. Is he dying? Is this it? No, he can’t be dying. He can’t leave the two of you alone.

Is Ellie going to find his body?

Tears roll down his face as he tries to stand, but it’s to no avail, only leading him to sink further into the ground, hunched over. A mixture of sobs and gasps for breath pours out of his mouth, begging for something- but he’s not sure what.

He jumps when he feels a weight on his shoulder, going to launch back, but whatever it is holding him keeps him steady. The surrounding sounds might be muffled, but he can still recognise your voice in the blur.

“Joel? Can you hear me? Joel?” You say, your voice just above a whisper, desperate to not wake up Ellie. “I need you to tell me, does it hurt here?” You say, guiding your hand to his left arm and squeezing, unable to hide the tremble in your voice as you do so.

Joel shakes his head, scrunching his nose. He can feel your body relax where you’re pressed behind him. “What’s- what’s happening to- me?” He wheezes, unable to catch enough breath to speak properly.

“It’s okay, you’re having a panic attack, you’re not dying.” You whisper, your voice much calmer now. You know he’s going to be fine. It’s now your job to calm him down. “Joel, can you tell me five things can see?” You ask, rubbing circles into his shoulder with your thumb.

Joel grunts, “Can I what?” He asks, his voice nearly unrecognisable from his normal tone.

“I’m just checking your eyesight.” You lie, knowing he wouldn’t be on board if you told him the real reason.

Joel’s head finally lifts from looking at the floor. He looks around slightly. “The- the trees.” He says in between his fights for breath.

You nod your head, muttering praise as you use the other hand to stroke his hair. “What else?” You ask.

“Uh- the- the grass, and the sky. The cave and- and you.” He turns his head slightly to look at your hand. His voice is shaking, matching how he trembles under you, his chest rising every half a second as he tries to breathe.

A sigh escapes from you as rest your forehead on the crook of his neck, fighting back your own tears as you try to guide him. “Doing so good Joel, how about four things you can feel?”

Joel’s hand quickly finds your arm, gripping it like a vice. His breathing has slowed down a little, but it’s nowhere near where it needs to be. “I can feel you.” He says, relaxing slightly into your touch. “I can feel my trousers, uh- the- the floor, and- my gun.” He says, alerting you to the rifle placed just at his side.

A part of you wants to move it, knowing how accidents can happen, but you worry that if you try, he’ll only get more freaked out. Joel’s gun is like his security blanket, it’d be too big of a risk to take it off of him now, leaving him more vulnerable than he already is.

“That’s great, Joel. How about hearing? Can you give me three things you can hear?” You ask, trying to keep your voice as gentle as possible, matching the tone you would use when approaching an animal.

Joel grumbles, “I’m fucking deaf.” He mutters, his voice losing some of the shakiness it had before.

A bubble of laughter forms in your chest at his words, but you don’t let it come out, opting for muttering ‘Just do your best’ instead.

His sobs quieten down as he tries to listen out for any noise, just as he does, another gush of wind blows, the trees making the same noise that started all of this. “The creaking of-of the trees.” He looks up at the trees, how they blow in the wind. His ears then focus on the light bubbling in the creek. He can hear it all the way up here. You whisper more praises into his ears, leading him to list your voice as the third thing.

You chuckle, your smile sitting on his skin like an anchor to him, making a smile of his own form. His breaths have almost completely evened out, but you continue. “What about two things you can smell?” You whisper, your hand finding his and funnelling through his fingers to hold.

Joel chuckles before he speaks. “Us. One, two.” He jokes, head leaning back against your body as he spoke. You can’t help but choke out a laugh and shake your head where it sits.

“Fair point.” Your smile pokes out as you speak. “One more, okay? What can you taste?” You ask, lifting your head from his neck and tilting it to get a look at his face. Even in the dark, you can see the streaks on his cheeks from his tears, one loose on rolling down. You take your free hand and wipe it away.

He pauses when you do so before looking back at you. “Creek.” He says, swallowing as he speaks.

Your brows furrow, wondering what he means. “Creek?” You repeat, making sure you heard him right. How can his mouth taste like creek?

Joel nods. “I drank some water from the creak earlier, felt good at the time, but now my mouth tastes like shit.” He says, nose scrunching as he focuses on the muddy flavour of his mouth, only slightly regretting the decision.

He revels in the laughter you release, still keeping quiet as to not wake up Ellie, but it’s a sound of pure joy. Your laughter slows down and you look at him again, the same care in your eyes as when you care for Ellie, so much warmth. “How are you feeling?” You ask, a pursed smile forming on your lips.

After a moment of thinking, Joel speaks, “I feel fine.” He says. Not missing the look of annoyance on your face when he says that, thinking that he’s just deflecting. “I mean it. I’m feelin’ much better now. That was… it was scary, but I’m okay now.”

You nod, telling him that if he ever feels that way again to come straight to you, and he did.

For the first time in however long you’ve known him, he actually listened to what you had to say. He was always careful about it. Ellie never found out what happened that night and he didn’t want to scare her.

So, whenever he felt an attack coming on, he’d wander over to you and slip his hand into yours, squeezing a few times to let you know what was going on.

In response, you would repeat the exact things you did that night, squeezing five times for him to count what he sees, then four, then three and all the way down to one. Sometimes it didn’t work immediately, and you would have to do some breathing exercises, but his episodes became much easier to manage when you were around.

It became pretty easy for you to figure out exactly what the cause of most of his panic attacks was. You couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt when you realised it was partly you. You fretted for a few days, trying to make sure that Joel knew you could take care of yourself. However, you quickly learned that this was just how Joel is, the eternal protector.

A few months after that night, you had learnt Joel was hiding his attacks from you at nighttime. He didn’t want to wake you up. You had woken up on your own accord to him trying to count the things on his own but still barely working.

After how much you had calmed him down, it was basically instinct to go over and slip into his sleeping bag. You held him as you helped him through the tail end of calming himself down.

Once he had calmed down, you pressed a small kiss to the spot just under his ear. You then made him promise that if he ever needed you, he’d wake you up. Just like he made you promise you’d do a long time ago.

Because while he made it his job to protect you, it was your job to protect him.

❛ ━━━━━━━━･❪ ❁ ❫･━━━━━━━━━ ❜

[hyperfixingfr]

Another fandom warning of a creep yippe!!!/sarc

I'd advise the fandom to be careful around kndbrainrot. They've sexualized Numbuh 3 before and then tried to justify it to me in DMs by saying something like "well I just couldn't stop thinking about her on a body pillow". They're also one of those people who believes the Christian god would "send gay people to hell" and never really took back saying such despite being educated on the matter. I've tried to reason with them numerous times mostly because they followed me closely and had also shown support to someone who thinks Hoagie x Cree is okay (which I personally set a boundary with, as I don't enjoy supporters of that and would like to block them as it's bordering pedophilia). They just seem to be trying to wedge themselves out of it only to do something creepy and weird again later. They even tried to pull the whole "I'll just block you first so you don't have to block me" presumably so they could still look at my account. I told them explicitly I'm gonna be blocking them if I ever see them on an alt account trying to engage with me since they seem set on crossing people's set boundaries. I was really hoping I wouldn't have to warn people but unfortunately it seems I have to. Just watch out for them, please. They send a lot of asks to people constantly.

[ginneke]

Worth the Wait

— a @flashfictionfridayofficial prompt - “Hour of Denial”

Characters: Kheel, Genli, Link, Amali, (background: Notts, Kotts, Cree.)

Set very vaguely after the Warbler’s Nest questline, and before Kass returns to Rito Village.

—

"This is taking forever," lamented Kheel, dropping her head on her wings and staring morosely at the stove in the centre of the communal kitchen. Her sisters had scattered back to their chores with the exception of Genli, who was fluttering at the scary-faced Hylian guy's heels while he washed up, asking question after question about the recipe he'd picked out: Wheat and butter and eggs and rich golden honey, and a strange blend of spices that even Mom hadn't recognised. It made the kitchen smell sooooo good, and waiting for it to be ready was taking so long. Surely one little sniff wouldn't be the end of the world...? 

But when she sidled closer and laid a wing on the lid covering the pot, Genli let out a shriek and rushed over to bat her away. "No!" her middle sister shouted. "You can't lift the lid while it's still cooking, you'll ruin it!"

"It's almost been an hour," Kheel pointed out, aggrieved, but she dropped the argument when Genli puffed up her chest in preparation to holler. Genli could shout loudest of anyone when she put her mind to it.

Once satisfied that Kheel had backed off, Genli returned to pestering the Hylian swordsman. Kheel stared at the pot and counted down the minutes until the lid could be taken off. 

Mom came into the kitchen just as Mr Swordsman picked up a hawthorn skewer. "Is it ready then, Link?" she asked, a smile lighting up her eyes. 

Behind her, Notts and Kotts and Cree were all jostling for a better look, none of them wanting to be left out.

Mr Swordsman gave them one of his tiny closed-mouth smiles before gesturing for them all to stay back. He lifted the lid on the pot, and a rush of steam and scent came wafting out. Kheel tried to creep closer, though Mom noticed and put out a wing to stop her. Mom's other wing was on Genli's shoulder, holding her back too.

The swordsman pricked the pot's contents with the skewer, withdrew it, and studied it closely. Then he nodded to himself and gripped the sides of the pot, using a thick, padded piece of fabric to shield his hands as he lifted it down to the reed mat that protected the floor from scorching. With its lid off, Kheel caught a glimpse of the pot's contents and the strange sweet bread-cake the swordsman had opted to make. It looked almost as good as it smelled, and it smelled like the warming scent of pine cones on a hot fire in winter, a smell so wonderful that Kheel could just sit there sniffing it for hours and be content.

Genli darted out from under Mom's wing and tugged on the swordsman's arm. "Hey, hey, we can try it now, right?"

The swordsman's eyes did that little flickering thing. Mom chuffed a laugh and came to his rescue.

"Let it cool first," she said, over Genli's sound of frustration. 

Notts and Kotts and Cree jostled forwards; they were chirping all the same questions Genli had asked earlier, so Kheel tuned them out -- until her middle sister's dismayed voice rose through the chatter: "Ehhhh? A day? We have to leave it for a day?"

The swordsman turned the sweet bread-cake onto a platter and put it up on a shelf, nodding a reply to Genli's question as he did so.

"Aww, but I was looking forward to trying it..."

He paused and glanced towards Kheel and her mom. It was really hard to tell what he was thinking, which was why Kheel used to find him kind of scary looking. Except now she was looking closer, the corner of his mouth twitched in a curious way, like he was trying to hold back a smile.

And then he picked that shiny blue thingy off his belt and tapped at its surface some, and from out of it he took a plate that was really, really similar to the one he'd just put up on the shelf...

Mom took the plate from him, which allowed Link his hands back. He spread them wide as if to say, Ta-da!

"Ah! You meanie!" Genli cried, but she was laughing too. "You already made one! Why didn't you say so?"

"Would you have enjoyed it as much if you didn't get to ask so many questions?" asked Mom, pointedly, and Genli huffed.

Between them, Mom and Link portioned up the bread-cake. It was smaller than the one he'd just made, only enough for a little piece each. Mom passed pieces of it around to Kheel and each of her sisters, who tucked in with gusto.

Kheel was slower to start, still distracted by the other bread-cake up on its shelf. Mom started asking questions about the recipe, particularly the reason why it needed to sit for longer, and Link answered her as best he could with a plate of his own balanced in one hand. Kheel didn't know what he was saying, but he and Mom were both smiling like she'd been in on the plot the whole time. 

Maybe she had been!

But even if that swordsman was a big meanie sometimes, making them think they had to wait such a long time to try it, the cake really did taste good. It was worth waiting after all.