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something-tofightfor · 2 years

Text

Your Eyes Outshine The Town

Pairing: Joel Miller x female reader (Just Too Good To Be Gone pairing)

Word count: 9,586

Rating: M - language, light sexual content, but nothing graphic

Warnings: If you don’t want to know certain plot spoilers from The Last of Us, you shouldn’t read this.

Summary: Joel and Ellie’s first Christmas in Jackson is going to be special for a lot of reasons - even though the town’s celebration is a tradition you’ve become accustomed to over the years you’ve spent in Wyoming.

Author’s Note: An anon asked if I was going to write something for Joel for Christmas, and even though I said no and this isn’t what I *was* working on, it’s just as important. (That other piece will hopefully be ready to go for the premiere of the show, and it is SPICY).

This takes place about 7-8 months after Joel and Ellie return to Jackson, and a few months after Help Me Get Away From Myself.

Merry Christmas to all that celebrate - and to those that don’t, I hope you have a safe and happy weekend!

To get alerted when I post new chapters/stories, follow @somethingtofightfor-shares and turn on post notifications - you can also ask to be added to my tag list (link in bio or at the top of my taglist reblog)

Just Too Good To Be Gone Masterlist

Song Suggestion: “This Christmas” by Donny Hathaway

When he woke up to snow covering the ground in Jackson for the first time, Joel froze in front of the window in his bedroom, staring out at it.

It wasn’t that he’d never seen snow before; he’d seen plenty.

It wasn’t even that he hadn’t seen snow in Jackson before, because it had been spitting snow for the previous week - squalls that blew through the city, coating the remaining leaves and branches on the trees and bushes for a few hours before it dripped away, leaving everything damp.

But it was the first time he’d seen the undisturbed streets and sidewalks, the first time he took notice of the way that it covered the roof of the house across the street from him, thin wisps of gray smoke curling from the chimney in the early morning light.

And when he looked back over his shoulder at his bed - where you were sleeping on your side, one hand tucked beneath the pillow, blanket pulled up to your chin, he let out a slow breath, closing his eyes and nodding. This is life now. My life.

Instead of having to worry about what the snow used to mean - chilled, damp clothes and waterlogged socks from moisture leaking through hastily repaired boots, a lack of dry firewood, freezing nights spent huddled around whatever small source of warmth could be created - that morning, the snow only meant that the entire city would be a little slower… and that he could take it easy.

So on that morning - Joel’s first real snowfall in Jackson - he turned away from the window after giving it one last look and then climbed back into bed next to you, one arm slipping around your waist as he urged you back toward him.

You mumbled something, the man unable to make out what it was, but you settled your hand over his and squeezed, sighing out his name. “Couple inches of snow out there.” You sighed again, humming - and that time, Joel did catch your words.

“Knew it was coming.” You yawned, body stiffening briefly. “Go back to sleep, Joel. Just for a little while.”

You didn’t have to tell him twice.

—

That morning was the first of many snows throughout November and the beginning of December, and as the days got shorter and colder, the snow melted less between storms.

It turned the streets into slushy messes and the sidewalks into ice. It resulted in the need for either a fire to be lit constantly, or one of the multiple space heaters he owned to be plugged in and turned on - but he didn’t mind.

He didn’t mind because despite the chilly patrol routes and extra layers he had to put on, it was always worth it to come home to his house and see Ellie��s light on, to see smoke coming from the chimney in her roof - to know that she was alright, and that they didn’t have to repeat the previous winter. And we never do again.

But even the seven months that he’d been back in Jackson - the integration into the community and the gradual decrease of his anxiety over every moment of every day - hadn’t prepared him for the night he’d been heading toward the diner to meet you for dinner and he’d seen a large tree in the center of the square, multiple people working to put it upright. Is that a Christmas tree?

He’d stopped in his tracks again, blinking slowly as he watched men with power tools constructing a base around the trunk. It’s a damn Christmas tree. Making a mental note to ask you about it while the two of you ate, he shook his head and then stuffed his hands into the pockets of his tan jacket, raising his shoulders and ducking his chin below the collar of the coat.

—

“Of course it’s a Christmas tree, Joel.” You sipped from your coffee mug, the steaming liquid inside warming you as you swallowed. Wish it was coffee and not tea. “Didn’t Tommy tell you? He said that he was going to ask you to let Ellie know.”

“He didn’t say shit.” Joel leaned back in his chair, the remnants of his dinner - runny egg yolks and toast crumbs - smeared across the surface of his plate. “I was just walkin’ here and saw that they were puttin’ it up.”

“Yeah. Some of the guys hauled it back the other day. They pulled it down off the mountain behind my place.” You rolled your eyes. “Not like anyone’s been skiing there in a couple decades, so it might as well do something for this town.”

You watched the subtle twitch of his lips at your joke, but Joel didn’t say anything else, keeping his eyes on you. It was strange to you sometimes, to remember just how much of life in Jackson he and Ellie hadn’t experienced yet, and Christmas - likely his first safe Christmas season, and maybe Ellie’s first real celebration of the season entirely - was only the most recent thing you could think of.

“So you should tell Ellie. It’s nothing like old Christmas celebrations used to be, but she wasn’t… she won’t remember those likewe do.” Tightening your hands around the mug, you shrugged. “She might like it.”

“She’ll love it.” He reached across the table, fingertips sliding beneath yours and urging one hand away from the mug. You let him, twisting your wrist and pressing your palm to his. “Especially if there’s lights.”

“There are.” You grinned at that, eyes moving up from your joined hands to his face. “Not a lot of them, but there are lights. And since the tree’s huge, lots of kids make ornaments every year - out of pinecones and sticks and string and all that … and the night they turn it on, everyone hangs their ornaments.”

“What happens to ‘em?” You heard the interest in his voice and it made your heartbeat surge with happiness, like it did every time Joel let his guard down and indulged in moments of normalcy. “At the end of the season?”

“Most of the time they’re ruined. Jackson gets a lot of snow in the winter, as you can see.” You gestured toward the windows, indicating the softly falling snow outside, and he nodded. “But the ones that aren’t a mess? The kids can take them back if they want, but most of them don’t remember what they made, so…” You shrugged. “They just get tossed.”

“Do you want to tell Ellie?” He released your hand, drawing his back toward his body. “You are coming over tonight, right?”

“I am.” You’d been spending more time at Joel’s place ever since getting back from the trip to the cabins at the end of September, but since what you had was still new, you didn’t want to wear out your welcome. “Where’s she at right now?”

“Probably out somewhere with the kids she’s in school with.” He scratched the side of his neck. “She came home earlier this afternoon and dropped her stuff of and then ran off with that dark haired girl, Dina?”

“They’re probably at Dina’s house, then.” You took another drink. “If we head back now, we can get a fire going before it gets too cold in your place.”

“Yeah.” He stood, reaching for his coat and pulling it on, your eyes following his movement. “Even though when you say we I know you mean me.”

You stood, too, holding back a snort, and only a minute later, the two of you were making your way down the snowy street and back toward his house, both of you with your heads covered and ducked down.

Neither of you spoke much as you walked, hurrying toward your destination, but when you were safely in his front hall, the door shut behind you, you groaned, shivering as you took your jacket off again. He hurried into the living room and knelt down to light the waiting fire, and you followed, perching on the end of the couch cushions. “I only meant you because you’re so much better at starting fires than I am.”

“Yeah, sure.” He looked back at you over one shoulder, smirking. “You just like watching me like this.”

“You caught me.” Rolling your eyes, you tried to hide the surprise in your voice at the bold way he flirted with you - the action very uncharacteristic of Joel as you knew him to be, but something that was happening more as he spent each additional day in Jackson. “How can I resist you when you’re kneeling in front of a -”

“Anybody home?” You heard Ellie’s voice before you saw the girl, and even though you caught Joel’s flinch at the sudden sound, he relaxed quickly, turning away from you and back to the fire.

“In here, Ellie.” Leaning back, you crossed your legs at the ankle, still keeping your eyes on Joel’s broad shoulders. “Both of us.”

—

“Did you guys see that big tree?” He was still busy with the fire, coaxing the remaining embers from that morning alight with scraps of kindling, but he knew the girl was excited from the sound of her voice. “Dina said that Jackson’s Christmas is really cool, and that everyone goes, even the people that don’t celebrate. That means she’s going to be there too, with her family, and -”

“Slow down, Ellie.” Tiny flames licked at the wood, and once he was satisfied that they’d catch, Joel stood, brushing his hands off on his jeans. “Apparently my brother was supposed to tell me what was goin’ on, but he didn’t. I just found out about that tree a couple hours ago, too.”

“I’ve never celebrated Christmas before.” The girl plopped down onto the chair, leaving only the space next to you open. Oh, you little shit. “What’s it like?”

“Well.” You leaned in, putting your feet flat on the floor and resting one elbow on the arm of the couch as Joel sat next to you. “There are cookies. Lots of cookies. And some of the adults like to sing old Christmas carols. I was telling Joel earlier that a lot of the kids like to make ornaments to hang on the big tree, so you can definitely do that, too.”

He watched as the girl’s eyes widened, Ellie looking between the two of you in excitement. He loved seeing that expression on her face, and though he’d only had the opportunity a handful of times - seeing the sunrise on the way out of Boston, looking out and over a lake on the outskirts of Pittsburgh, and when they’d stumbled on the giraffes in Salt Lake City the three clearest in his mind - he looked forward to seeing it more often. And now I might get to.

“Are there presents?” You laughed at that, shoulders shaking as you leaned over and toward him, Joel’s arm going around you to steady your body. “Because I’ve read that -

“Yeah, Ellie, there are presents at Christmas.” Joel heard you clear your throat, the man’s eyes narrowing in anticipation of whatever it was that you were about to say. “But most of them are handmade - scarves and socks and clothes. Food, from the people that are really good at it.”

“What else would there be?” She blinked, frowning. “I mean, what else do people need besides -”

“Back before, Ellie…” He paused, thinking. “Christmas presents weren’t about the things you needed. People would buy stuff just because they thought someone else would like it, even if it wasn’t useful.”

“Like movies and music and video games.” You pointed to the shelves across the room. “That kind of stuff was what people wanted, to keep themselves occupied when they weren’t at work or in school.”

“Jewelry was another big one.” Joel smiled - showing teeth - as a memory came back to him. “I remember one year, Tommy was seein’ this woman. Had to be … I don’t know, three, maybe four years before everything changed?” Ellie leaned in closer, eyes wide and focused on him, and he felt you shift closer, your arm going around him. “And he wanted to get her somethin’ real nice for Christmas, so he tried to find a necklace for her.” Joel rubbed at his face with his hand. “And I shit you not, it was probably the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen in my life, had this big ol’ flower charm on it.” He paused, laughing. “He was so damn proud of it, and when he gave it to her for Christmas, we were all waitin’ to see what she’d say and …”

“And?” It was you that spoke up, fingers curling into the soft flannel that covered his ribs. “What did she think?”

“She loved it.” Joel scoffed and Ellie laughed hard, the girl’s giggle warming the room up even more than the fire already had. Oh, I love hearin’ that. “She didn’t take that goddamn thing off for months, and then when they broke up, he found it in his mailbox and smashed into pieces even though she was the one that ended it.”

“Was he mad” Ellie’s foot tapped on the floor, her hands gripping her knees. “Tommy? Was he -”

“No. See the damn thing was made of real gold, and so he took all the broken pieces and sold ‘em and then he and I went out and got drunk.”

It was a good memory - one of the last Christmas gatherings that they’d had as a family, a couple cousins and one uncle driving in from various parts of the state to celebrate, but he’d forgotten all about the necklace until that moment. Wonder if Tommy ever thinks about it. “People used to make Christmas lists, Ellie.” You spoke up again, Joel turning his head to look at you. “Put stuff on them that they wanted or needed so that if people were going to get them a gift, they knew what to look for.”

“Do you make lists here?” Ellie blinked slowly. “Since there are presents?”

“Some of the kids do. They put things on them like toys and books and clothes and so a couple weeks before Christmas, someone takes all those lists and goes through what we’ve got in storage to see if anything fits. It’s not always exactly what they asked for, but usually … usually we can get something for everyone since we have so much stockpiled.”

“I didn’t know that.” Joel’s voice was quiet, and when you met his eyes and shrugged, he knew immediately that you were one of the ones that did the searching, even though you hadn’t told him as much. “That’s real nice.”

“Yeah. And it works out for the kids that don’t celebrate Christmas, too. The tree in the center of town is a Christmas tree, and no one would ever say otherwise, but it’s just sort of become … a symbol of the holidays in general. Warmth and comfort and happiness and all that.”

“Makes sense.” He gave you a small smile - and a single nod of his head before turning his attention back to Ellie. “So yeah. I guess we get to celebrate Christmas this year, kiddo.”

“Cool.” Her smile lit up her face, eyes brightening. “So when is it?”

“The lights will go on in a couple days, but the town celebration is December 23rd.” You sat up straight, Joel watching as you adjusted the hem of your shirt. “So you’ve got some time. And,” you continued, turning your attention to him. “Since this is the first Christmas here for both of you, if there’s anything you can think of that you want or need… let me know.” There was another pause and then you kept going, Joel barely able to conceal his laugh at the glint in your eyes. “Because I can put in a good word with Santa Claus.”

Ellie, on the other hand couldn’t stop herself from laughing and the two of you joined her moments later, Joel pulling you against his chest and kissing the top of your head.

He hadn’t given Christmas much more than a passing thought in years - but as he sat in his cozy living room, laughing with the two of you, he knew that it wouldn’t be the case that year.

–

“We’re going to be late if we don’t hurry up.”

Ellie was nearly bouncing up and down as she waited for you to pull your coat on, the girl bundled up in a thick jacket of her own, along with a hat and a pair of gloves sticking out of one of her pockets. “I’m coming. It’s fine, though. We won’t be late.”

“What took you so long to get back? I thought you didn’t work today.”

“I didn’t. Someone took my shift so that I could make sure everything was done for tonight.” You’d gotten sidetracked checking names on the gifts that had been collected, making sure that no one was left out, and before you’d realized it, it was an hour until you were supposed to leave. “Took me a little longer than I thought it would.”

“Joel’s probably already there. He left hours ago for Tommy’s. Radioed over to make sure I was going to leave on time, and - “

“Well you did.” Smiling at the girl, you picked up your own walkie, pressing a button on the side. “Joel? If you’re still at Tommy and Maria’s, we’re getting ready to leave now. See you in a few.”

It took a few seconds for his response - a quick ‘Gotcha. See you soon’ - but as soon as he’d spoken, you and Ellie headed for the door, the girl walking next to you with her hands stuffed into her coat pockets. “Did you ask for anything this year?”

“No.” It was the truth - sort of. You’d hinted to one of the bakery girls that it would be great to have an extra loaf of sourdough so that you could make Joel and Ellie a nice breakfast on Christmas morning, and you’d put your name on the list for a replacement space heater, but aside from that, you hadn’t thought of anything else that you needed. Because I’ve got exactly what I want. “What about you?”

“You already looked at my list.” She glanced up at you and adjusted the straps on her backpack, waiting a few seconds. “I know you did, so -”

“Yeah, but I mean … did you mention anything to Joel? To Cat or Dina? To Maria and Tommy? Anything that you didn’t put on that list?”

“No. I didn’t… I didn’t want to ask for anything because it feels… weird.” You understood where she was coming from - and needed her to know it.

“My first Christmas here was like that, too. I didn’t want to ask for anything because it just felt… weird. The world’s gone to shit, and I’m asking for presents, you know?” She nodded, quickening her steps as you reached the corner of Kelly and Cache, making a right and going north toward the center of town. “It’s ok to want things, Ellie. You’ve had a tough year and a half, and I know that you’ve been through a lot more than most of the kids that grew up here, but you do still have a couple years til you’re an adult.”

“I’ll remember that for next year.” She reached out and squeezed your hand, keeping hold of it briefly. “Why do you think Joel didn’t want to walk with us?” You had your theories, but didn’t want to mislead the girl - even unintentionally, and so you just shrugged, urging Ellie to walk faster.

“There’s hot chocolate, Ellie.” You fell into step with a few other residents of Jackson as you got closer to the center of town, your eyes focused forward and waiting for the first glimpse of the massive tree and booths set up around it. “Hot chocolate and cookies and music. And sometimes, someone’s doing magic tricks and -”

“Last year at Christmastime I thought Joel was going to die.” She let out a shuddering breath and stopped walking, turning to face you. “And this year we’re here and we’re celebrating, and it just seems so… so fucking wrong, and -”

“Ellie.” You stopped, too, and then stepped closer, crouching down so that you could look her in the eye. “He didn’t die. You kept him alive. And you keeping him alive meant that he ended up bringing you back here. And yeah, I know it’s a lot to take in, especially when you grew up in a place like Boston and haven’t ever experienced this before.” She nodded, her wide eyes glistening with tears. “I’ve told him this so many times, and now I’m going to tell you. There is nothing wrong with letting yourself experience life when you have the opportunity to.”

“But -”

“No. Ellie, you’re here. You’re alive. You’re surrounded by people that care about you. You get to be a teenager. It’s not wrong. You don’t need to feel guilty. That’s why we’ve worked so hard to make things in Jackson as normal for everyone as we can.” Reaching out, you laid a hand on her shoulder. “And that means for you, too.” You couldn’t imagine what those weeks had been like for Ellie and Joel, or what had gone through the girl’s mind during them - but you didn’t want her to dwell on the past. Not now. Not tonight. “If you ever want to talk about it, I’m here. But tonight … don’t think about any of that, alright? You two deserve this.”

“I… I can try.” She sniffed, using the back of her sleeve to wipe at her nose. “For him.”

“No.” You stood, hand still on her shoulder. “Don’t try for him, Ellie. Do it for yourself.” You watched her for long seconds and saw the look in the girl’s eyes change from sadness and apprehension to one of resolve, her shoulders squaring.

“Yeah. Ok.”

—

He was waiting for the two of you on one of the benches just outside the square, and Joel was doing something that he hadn’t had much time to do in years: people watching.

There were people in Jackson that he hadn’t ever met, but for the most part, Joel was able to place each person that walked by - some of them raising their hands to wave at him, others giving him a single nod of their chins as they hurried past. But each of them had a look on their faces that he hadn’t seen in such abundance since before the outbreak. Happiness. They’re all… happy.

And he supposed that he was happy, too - content and satisfied in a way that still seemed foreign to him on most days. But it was easier as more time passed, and he was stunned to realize that he didn’t feel like he had to be on alert at every moment - even when he was out in the open and exposed in the way he was while sitting on the bench.

But it was more than that - he didn’t feel his heart twist in his chest when Ellie was out of sight anymore, and he often found himself leaving his house without a weapon, the only thing in his pocket his house keys.

The rate at which he’d settled into life in Jackson had stunned him - and he knew that meeting you had been a major part of it. But also.. The way Ellie took to her helped, too. He still had his days - just like anyone - but while a year ago he would have thought it impossible that he’d be in the position he was currently, Joel found that he had nothing to complain about.

That realization was reinforced when you and Ellie came into view, the girl’s head covered by a dark knit cap and yours shrouded with the large hood of your jacket. She was walking close to you, and for long moments, he did nothing but watch, making note of the way that the girl looked up at you, her cheeks rosy from the cold - and of the way you paid attention to not only what she was saying but also your surroundings, never focusing on one thing for too long.

Unlike many people in Jackson, you hadn’t completely let your guard down despite how often you reminded him that it was safe within the walls, and he appreciated it. You looked out not only for yourself, but for the people that you were with, and when people meant Ellie? That was worth everything to Joel.

He pushed off of the bench and made his way toward you the two of you, weaving through everyone that was milling around. “Hey, you t-” The words caught in his throat when Ellie broke away from you and sprinted toward him, throwing her arms around his body and pressing her cheek to his chest. What’s goin’ on? “Ellie?” He hugged her back, the action almost automatic in a way that he hadn’t ever believed would be possible again, and when he felt her trembling in his arms, he looked up at you, brow furrowed.

You shook your head, mouthing the word “later” and he understood immediately, his hands moving from Ellie’s back to her shoulders. She let go a few seconds later and then took a step back, drawing in a long breath as she tilted her head to look up at him. “Sorry. I’m gonna go find Dina and Jesse. Bye!”

She darted off, leaving the two of you standing a few feet apart. “What in the hell was -”

“She feels guilty about being here.” Stepping closer, you reached up, touching his stomach with one gloved hand. “After what you went through last winter.” Oh. “And about more than that, too, but you were the first thing she brought up, and I think it’s … it’s overwhelming for her.”

“I’m sure it is. It’s overwhelmin’ for me, too.” Nodding sympathetically, you gave him a tight smile. “Should I go find her?”

“Nah.” Closing the final distance between you, you leaned in to press a kiss to his cheek, the tip of your nose cold against his skin. “Just let her find her friends. She’ll be alright. And I’m sure seeing you here tonight with me and Tommy and Maria will help.” He hummed in reply, unwilling to let you go - and you didn’t seem to mind.

“Can’t take you two anywhere, can we?” His brother’s voice from behind him startled Joel, the two of you separating, though he kept his arm around your shoulders. “Always gotta be right next to …” He trailed off as Maria took her place beside him, the man wrinkling his nose. “Alright, I guess I have no room to talk.”

“You don’t.” You put your hand on your hip, leaning into Joel’s side. “I’ve seen the two of you Tommy Miller, and Joel and I aren’t anywhere near as bad.”

“She’s not lying.” Maria winked at him, and Joel’s smile grew, the man’s posture loosening. “Good to see you here, Joel.”

“Wouldn’t have missed it.” Clearing his throat with a cough, he looked around the square, his eyes lingering on the tree. “Never would have heard the end of that from any of you.”

“Got that right, big brother.” Tommy was smirking and Joel rolled his eyes, the four of you heading over for the hot chocolate table, each of you grabbing a cup of it. “Don’t tell anyone.” Tommy waited til you were a few feet away before reaching into the interior pocket of his jacket and pulling out a flask. “Got the good stuff.”

You held out your drink just as fast as Maria did, Joel joining shortly after, and once all of your cups had been sufficiently spiked, Joel was surprised to hear the other man clear his throat and ask everyone to raise their cups. “What’s this, Tommy? I thought it was Maria’s turn to -”

“Told him he could have this one.” Maria’s voice was quiet, and he watched her slip one arm around Tommy’s waist, tucking herself under his arm. “Go ahead, Tommy.”

You moved closer, and Joel watched as you raised your cup and then looked at him expectantly, not breaking eye contact until he’d lifted his hand an acceptable amount, too. They’re all in on this, whatever it is.

“To another year in Jackson.” Tommy paused, glancing down and then back up, his eyes locking with Joel’s. “To the first Christmas with my brother in … too goddamn long.” He sucked a breath in, eyes widening, and Joel knew that you felt him stiffen, but the slow movement of your hand over his back never stopped, the motion soothing him even though Tommy’s words caught him off guard. “To all the things none of us ever thought would be possible again.”

There was more that Tommy wanted to say, but Joel saw him falter, heard the tremble in his voice, and so with a single nod, he pushed his cup forward and clinked the edge of it with Tommy’s, you and Maria joining in before all four of you sipped the drinks. Shit, I wasn’t expectin’ that.

You took the cup from him without him having to ask, and once Maria had done the same from her husband, Joel moved forward and wrapped his arms around Tommy, hugging him as tightly as was possible through their thick jackets. Damn, I really wasn’t expecting this. They stayed locked in an embrace for a long time, Joel’s heart pounding, and when Tommy straightened up, he was barely holding his tears back, lips pressed together in a tight line. “Won’t be the last, Tommy.”

“It better not be.” You cut in, leaning closer. “Kinda like having you around, Joel Miller.” I like being around. That was all it took - and Joel didn’t miss the silent acknowledgement Tommy shot you, or the way his chest rose and fell when he took a deep breath after taking his cocoa back from Maria. “We’ve got what, twenty minutes before this starts?”

“Yeah.” Maria checked the clock, nodding. “I’ve gotta give my little speech in about twenty, and then we pass out the presents.” She sipped her drink as the four of you walked closer to the tree, more people nodding hello as you passed. “And then the party starts. The little kids are gonna sing for us, so …” She trailed off, clearing her throat. “So we’ll see what happens.” Smooth, Maria.

You split off from them a minute later, tugging on Joel’s arm as you pulled him off in the direction of Ellie and her friends, but you stopped short of reaching them, the two of you taking a seat on a different bench. “Just wanted to give you a minute, Joel. After the Ellie hug and Tommy’s toast, I thought … well, I thought you needed it.” You put your hood down before turning your head to look at him.

“I do.” He leaned in, lips finding your temple. “Thank you.” You didn’t say anything in reply, but you did lay your head down and against his shoulder … and despite the fact that Joel wasn’t used to being so open with affection in public, he had to admit that with you, it was growing on him.

—

The time that the two of you had sitting on the bench was cut short when Ellie ran up, Dina and Jesse in tow. She stood in front of you, her hands on her hips. “Can we stand together?” She wet her lips. “For the presents, I mean?”

“Of course, Ellie.” The words rumbled through him, and even with the layers separating you, you could feel his chest moving, the man nodding at the girl.

You loved seeing them together - loved watching as their relationship changed in front of your eyes, and even though the moments earlier had been difficult, they were proof that being in Jackson was the right thing for both of them. They could still be out there. Still be … alone. He would have taken care of her, you were certain of it, but you knew what could happen, and that you didn’t want to even entertain the thought of it happening to them.

Making your way over to where the crowd was gathered, you took your places near the front, Joel’s hand holding yours tightly, Ellie on his other side. Dina and Jesse stood close, the three teenagers talking quietly between themselves.

As you scanned the crowd, you were struck again with how normal things felt - and even though it was only for one night, it made you smile. There were still people guarding the walls, still people out on patrol - even more ready and waiting to spring into action on a moment’s notice … but inside the walls of Jackson, you could forget about that for a few hours here and there. And we do. And it’s what keeps us … going.

Squeezing Joel’s hand tighter as Maria moved to stand in front of the tree, Tommy a few feet away with his hands behind his back, you grinned at your friend, giving her a nod. “She’s going to make this short, Joel. She hates public speaking.”

“Not as much as my brother.” Joel snorted, the sound quiet. “No way.”

Maria opened her speech by thanking everyone for coming and making a few general announcements - that snow removal duty lists were posted in the community center, that hours would be changing in some of the stores to coincide with the colder days and decreased amount of light, that the food pantry was going to be freshly stocked early in the new year, and that typical amounts of things were expected.

You were used to these announcements, and so while she spoke, you watched Joel, the man taking it all in with a look of surprise on his face - which you understood. You’d heard about Boston and rationing from Tommy. You understood shortages and fighting for supplies - and you’d only had to do it for two years while Joel and Tommy had done it for many. Just another thing to love about this place, Joel.

You gripped his hand tighter, Maria’s words changing into the holiday portion of the night. She reminded everyone that while the Christmas tree was the focal point of the celebration, it was not the only winter holiday that the residents of Jackson celebrated - and that the night was meant to honor those traditions too, both through food and other decorations that were placed around the plaza. “And it doesn’t matter what holiday you’re celebrating, there’s never a bad time for a present, right kids?”

A chorus of cheers erupted around you, and like many of the people in the crowd, you clapped and laughed along with them. Maria thanked you by name along with the others that had acted as Santa’s elves to make sure everyone’s wishes were granted, and at that, Joel released your hand and wound an arm around your shoulders, pulling you as close as he could while Ellie leaned forward and beamed at you. “It’s no big deal,” you whispered, cheeks burning. “I just like doing it.”

“It is a big deal and you know it.” He murmured the words into your ear, voice low. “Take some credit for once.” Alright. Agreeing with a nod, you settled back into place as Maria called out names a few at a time, the children of Jackson walking up to take their gifts from her.

Ellie, Dina, Tara and Jesse were called as a group, and you caught the surprise in her eyes as she turned back to face you. “I didn’t ask for -”

“Go.” Gesturing with your chin, you winked. She made her way to the front of the crowd and took the box from Maria, stepping back to where you and Joel were standing, her lower lip caught firmly between her teeth.

“You gonna open it?” Joel shifted on his feet, curiosity in his tone. “Probably should. It is a -”

“Yeah, I’m…” She frowned. “This is my first ever Christmas present, so …” It made your heart thump in your chest, and while she was focused on the gift in her hands, you and Joel shared a look, a quick shake of your head enough to keep him from speaking. You both had gifts for her to open on Christmas morning, but you didn’t want to ruin the surprise. “Who’s it from?”

“Think of it as being from Jackson, Ellie. It’s not from one specific person.” You leaned forward. “But I did pick it out.” That was all it took, the girl tearing open the paper to reveal a brightly colored box, one hand pulling the lid off while the other held it steady.

“Oh, cool!” She grinned up at you, the smile wider than you’d ever seen it on her face. “Art supplies? This is …” She swore under her breath, looking down at what she held in her hands. “Pens and pencils? New notebooks?” She went quiet, staring into the box, and when she looked up at you, it took everything in you to keep your composure. “Thank you. Thank you so much, I… damn this is cool.”

“You’re welcome, Ellie.” Reaching over, you squeezed her shoulder. “Just make sure you have fun using them, alright?” The girl assured you that she would and then turned around to show Dina and her other friends her present, the four of them talking excitedly about what they’d received. “That went well.”

“You made her night.” He turned to face you, setting his hands on your shoulders. “Thank you.”

“Of course. Anything to make her smile.” He stared at you for a few seconds and then leaned in, kissing you on the forehead. “What was that for?”

“I’m gonna have to leave you here for a little while. I hope that’s alright.” He stepped backwards, watching you with slightly narrowed eyes. “Stay here with Ellie?”

“Where else would I go?” He didn’t say anything, turning away from you and stopping next to the girl, leaning over to say something into her ear. You watched with curiosity, and when Ellie stepped next to you again a few seconds later, her eyes bright with excitement, you knew that something was up. “What’s going on, Ellie?”

“Don’t worry about it.” You opened your mouth to speak but she cut you off, opening the box she held again and pulling one of the notebooks out. “What should I draw first? I thought maybe I could go to sketch the horses in the stables, but I’ve already done that, and …”

She was distracting you and you knew it, but you let it happen, inching closer to the girl and suggesting a few other things for her to draw - the mountains, the town square, some of the people in Jackson, Ellie jotting down a few ideas on the first page. “You know, it’d be easier for you to hold that if you put everything else in your bag.” You tapped her on the back. “Why did you bring this anyway?”

“I didn’t know how long we’d be out and I wanted a place to put my gloves and hat so I wouldn’t lose them.” She glanced up at you. “Habit, I guess.” That makes sense. “Will you help me?” You nodded, unzipping her backpack and then taking the box from her, leaving the girl holding only the notebook and a pencil. As you tucked the box into the empty pocket and zipped it, you heard the crowd cheering again, your gaze raising from her to the space in front of the tree - where Joel was standing, holding his guitar, Tommy and Maria next to him. “Surprise.”

“Ellie, what -” You watched as the younger kids began to make their way toward the front of the crowd, Tommy and Maria talking to the second man, whose fingers were wrapped around the neck of the guitar, flexing every now and then. “Ellie, is he -”

“Just watch.” She pulled on your hand with one of hers, and you stepped through the crowd, too, breath caught around a lump in your throat.

You’d heard him play before - the man’s nimble fingers strumming notes on his porch and at Tommy and Maria’s, occasionally joining in with his voice, too, but you’d never known him to play for more than a few people at a time. And nearly everyone’s here tonight. “We can’t do anything about the singing,” Maria started, her eyes crinkling at the corners as she smiled. “But Joel’s agreed to play as a live backing track for a few of the carols tonight, if everyone’s alright with that.”

The kids cheered and some of the adults - including Tommy and Maria - clapped, but it was Ellie’s whistle from right next to you that carried the loudest, Joel’s eyes snapping immediately to her - and then to you, his gaze focused but also a little smug.

Maria slid the microphone into the stand and then lowered it, pushing it in front of Joel, who slung the guitar’s strap around his neck, getting it into position.

The first notes rang out over the square - Jingle Bells - and the crowd immediately joined in. But you couldn’t take your eyes off of Joel, watching as he moved his fingers over the frets and strings without lifting his head, the crown of it - and his thick dark hair illuminated by the lights on the tree. For the first time in nearly 20 years, you didn’t join in with the carol singing, one hand lifted to cover your mouth instead. “Are you ok?” Ellie nudged you. “Is this a -”

“Ellie,” You turned your head as the song ended, Joel finally looking up and giving a single nod. “He’s here because of you right now.” She sucked in a breath as he started another song - Frosty the Snowman - the man lowering his head again as he played. “Remember that, OK?”

“Yeah.” The girl sniffed and then nodded. “Yeah, he is.” You returned your attention to Joel, making note of the set of his shoulders and the way he didn’t fumble a single note, even in the cold.

He played a couple more - short ones like We Wish You A Merry Christmas and Deck The Halls, and then took a pause, looking up and inhaling deeply. His eyes landed on you and you nodded, gloved fingers of one hand pressed to your lips. “This is gonna be my last one.” He cleared his throat, while still strumming, his voice audible through the mic even though it was quiet since it was positioned so low. “It’s about a reindeer named Rudolph.”

The kids cheered again, and when Joel started playing the actual song, it didn’t take them long to nearly drown him out with their voices. About halfway through the song, you watched his fingers falter, though he caught himself almost immediately. But then, out of the corner of one eye, you watched as Tommy turned away, bringing one hand up to wipe beneath his eyes. What’s going on?

Joel finished the song and then pulled his hand away from the strings, fingers curling into a loose fist, and you watched as he steadied himself by taking a deep breath, chin still tucked to his chest. The rest of the crowd was busy clapping and cheering, so they didn’t see Joel raise his hand in the same motion as Tommy - but you did - and so did Ellie. The girl said your name and you turned toward her, uncertain. “Why is -”

“I have no idea, Ellie. I’ll go find out though.” She glanced down at her notebook - a quick sketch of a man and a guitar visible on the page - and then back at you.

“OK. Let me know if he needs anything. I’m gonna go and work on this.” Telling her you would, you made your way toward where Joel had moved off to, partially out of view next to the tree, Tommy close by.

You didn’t want to interrupt, but when you heard what your best friend’s husband had to say, you didn’t need to.

“Haven’t heard you play that in 20 years. Not since the last Christmas with Sarah.”

—

He’d almost made it through - almost, but then his fingers had started playing Rudolph, and he hadn’t been able to stop them. It hit him harder than he’d expected, the familiar notes coaxed out with the picking of his fingers, and even though he’d heard the crowd singing along, he hadn’t really heard them, the memory of Sarah and Tommy’s voices joining his in front of a well-lit Christmas tree in a previous life had been all that he could focus on.

He took a moment when the song ended, catching his breath, and then nodded once at the crowd before he headed for the side of the tree and found Tommy standing there, the man’s eyes rimmed with red. “Fuck, Joel.”

“Yeah. I know.” There was nothing else to say, and so he waited, pulling the guitar from around his neck and gripping the neck of it as he held it by his side.

“Haven’t heard you play that in 20 years. Not since the last Christmas with Sarah.”

He heard your gasp at Tommy’s words, and when both men looked your way, Joel’s chest got tight at the sight of your expression - eyes wide and your body rigid. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude.”

“You’re not.” Joel spoke, taking a half step toward you. “Not even close.” You moved toward him and though you were hesitant, you reached for his hand, Joel looking down as you took it. For once, your hand looked bigger than his, encased in the thick gloves you wore, and it made him smile, though the expression was gone only a few moments after it appeared. “Tommy’s right, though. Used to play Christmas songs for us after we opened presents. Rudolph was … was her …”

“It was her favorite.” Tommy cleared his throat, moving closer, and Joel only nodded again, fighting back tears. “So Joel always played it last because he knew she’d go nuts adding in all the little … whatta you call them? The extras?” He laughed. “Like a lightbulb and like Monopoly?”

“We used to do that, too. Right after ‘Santa came to say’ it was always the biggest, loudest ‘ho ho ho’, and -”

“Yeah.” Joel interrupted, tightening his hold on your hand. “It was.”

“It was good to hear it again, big brother.” Tommy cleared his throat and reached out, clapping a hand on Joel’s arm. “Real good.” He pointed with his free hand at the front of the tree, where the crowd had started singing again, led by Maria and a few of the other women. “But I’m gonna go sing with my wife now, if that’s alright.” Yeah. Yeah, it is.

He nodded in reply, and when Tommy had brushed past you, telling you to have a good night, it was just the two of you left - and he didn’t know what to say. You knew about Sarah. You knew what losing her had done to him, and you never pushed him to talk more than he wanted to about her. But tonight, I want her to. I want her to … “Did you sing for her, Joel?” Still holding his hand, you led him over to the bench next to his guitar case. “Not just for Christmas, but … when you played?”

“I did.” It was the right question - and one that he was more than happy to answer, Joel nodding as he zipped up the case. “Started out when she was little - I’d sing her nursery rhymes, the ABCs… all of those. When she got older, we’d sing songs on the radio together. She could play a little by the time she was eight or nine, and it was…” He sat back up, sniffling and wiping his nose with the back of one hand. “It was nice to have somethin’ we both liked.”

“You took her to concerts, right?” He nodded. “Bet that was fun.”

“It was.” He looked up, the clouds all but gone and the moon and stars shining brightly. “We’d try to go to one every time a band she liked came through Austin. Took her to see shows at the fair sometimes, too.”

“I miss the fair.” You leaned your head against his shoulder, sighing. “All that food? The games?” That got a short chuckle out of him, Joel nodding as he rested his cheek on the top of your head. “Who was her favorite?”

“Can’t remember the name now. Something Drops. Was the last show we saw together before it all happened.” It was easier to talk with you about Sarah than he thought it would be, but even though that was the case, he felt his breaking point rapidly approaching. “Sorry I didn’t tell you about tonight. I didn’t know … I didn’t want to get your hopes up and then back out last minute.”

“It’s fine. I’m really glad you played. It was nice to see. And hear.” The crowd was beginning to disperse, everyone breaking away from the main tree and heading for the booths that surrounded it, and Joel figured that it wouldn’t take long for Ellie to find the two of you.

You shivered next to him and Joel hummed your name, waiting until you sat up to look at him. “There anything else to stay here and see?”

“Not really, no. People are going to start heading home soon. It’s cold as shit, and once the singing’s done, it’s just socializing.”

“We should get going then.” He looked down, eyes on his guitar case. “Want to get this back into the house.” He stood and reached out to take your hand but you surprised him, bending down and grabbing the strap of the case, rising to your feet and sliding it over one shoulder. “I can carry that.”

“I’ve got it, Joel.” He opened his mouth to protest, but you shook your head, giving him a soft smile. “Let’s go find Ellie.”

—

Two hours later, the three of you were back at his house, Ellie tucked into her garage for the night and you sound asleep in his bed. But even though he’d taken you to bed - the sex slow and gentle, more roaming hands and lingering mouths than anything else, Joel was wide awake.

So he slipped out of bed, kissing your temple and coaxing a quiet sigh from your lips before he turned the space heater on and headed downstairs, pulling his boots and jacket back on. His guitar was leaning against the wall in his entryway and he grabbed that, too, carrying it onto the porch and lighting the lantern before he sat down.

He plucked a few notes once he was settled, but his eyes were trained forward - the man staring out at the street in front of him, on the single light in the neighbor’s upstairs window, and then, finally, on the stars again, his fingers picking up speed as he continued to play.

The notes carried out into the still night air, and even though he wasn’t playing anything in particular, Joel felt himself relaxing, the weight of the emotion from playing in front of the town and playing Sarah’s song bleeding out of him.

He wasn’t surprised when, a few minutes later, he heard the door open and you stepped out onto the porch, blanket wrapped around your shoulders. “Didn’t mean to wake you.

“It’s alright.” Shrugging, you lowered yourself onto the railing, bracing your back on the support beam. “Unless you’d rather I go back inside.”

“No.” He played another note and then pulled his hand away, raising it to scratch the back of his neck. “No, stay.”

And you did, leaning back and staying quiet, content to listen to Joel strumming the guitar in the frigid darkness. He was content, too, the man humming under his breath as he played, the creaking of the rocking chair he sat on quiet enough so that the music drowned it out.

But when he switched to a different song and started singing along as he played, he heard your sharp intake of breath, watching the way you leaned forward as he brought his gaze in from the horizon to meet yours.

It wasn’t one that he played often - and because he’d wanted to keep things short and sweet for the kids earlier, he’d only practiced it a few times after finding the Christmas sheet music he’d used to refamiliarize himself with the songs. But it was one of his favorites, and it seemed natural to play it that night. Especially for her.

He wasn’t the best singer - and he knew it - but you didn’t seem to mind as you listened, head tilted to one side and your eyes closing briefly as he reached the first chorus, your smile growing from a small one into one that overtook your face. Is this really all it takes? All I need to be…

When he paused between verses to take a breath, you stood, keeping your eyes on him, and Joel found himself unable to look away. I don’t want to. He stumbled over the notes but you didn’t seem to notice, leaning back against the wood again as you resituated the blanket, drawing it tighter around yourself.

He finished the second verse and then started another chorus but stopped abruptly, setting the guitar down and standing, taking the two steps it took him to reach you. “Joel, wh-” You breathed out the words, unable to do much because of the way the blanket was wrapped around you, and let him tip your chin up, mouth opening slightly in surprise.

“I know I’m not the easiest person to be around.” He stroked your lower lip with his thumb, frowning. “And I know I drive you an’ Ellie crazy sometimes.”

“You do.” You winked at him, Joel scoffing and blowing out a puff of air, his breath visible, even in the low light. “But we don’t mind.”

“Good. I hope it stays that way.” Leaning in, he kissed you, his eyes finally closing as your mouths met. You stretched your arms out and enveloped him in the blanket with you, the pressure of your hands on his upper back pulling him in even closer.

It was unbelievable to him that a mere 8 months earlier, he hadn’t known you, and as he deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue between your lips and into your waiting mouth, he groaned at the realization that whatever he felt about the timeframe of your relationship, you likely did too.”We should go inside, Joel. It’s freezing out here.”

You spoke against his cheek, but Joel didn’t move toward the door, instead winding both arms around your body and hugging you tightly, keeping you rooted to the spot you stood in. “I think I can warm you up.” He sighed, kissing you again. “In fact, I know I can.”

The truth was that he was in no hurry to move - and for a man that had spent two decades of his life constantly looking over his shoulder and thinking three steps ahead, it was a drastic - but welcome - change for him.

He felt it then, the thing that had been slowly growing inside him over the previous few months threatening to spill from his lips. Oh, shit. As he stared at you, again focused on the look in your eyes, he saw it in them, too - though he knew that you were reluctant to admit it. Because she thinks it’ll scare me.

And it did - it terrified him, after so long of keeping everyone at arm’s length - including Tess - for the sake of ease. But as the two of you made your way back into the house, Joel grabbing the guitar along the way and you locking the door behind you, he understood that the terror he felt was a very different kind than he was used to. And it feels… good.

You both headed up the steps and back into the bedroom, Joel stopping to turn off the space heater before he climbed in next to you. “C’mere.” You rolled toward him and he pressed his forehead against yours, holding you like that. I think I’m fallin’ in love with you the same way you’re fallin’ in love with me. But what came out was something else - not quite as revealing, but still just as meaningful. “Can’t wait to spend Christmas with you. Didn’t think it’d be like this again.”

“Yeah, well…” You kissed him, then, your mouth lingering on his, and he knew that he was right - that despite all of his previous objections and promises to do everything to protect himself, he did love you. An’ she loves me, even if we can’t say it yet. “You’re stuck with me, Joel.”

He laughed, the sound little more than a quiet huff, but it was interrupted by you pushing him onto his back and staring down at him, the smile still on your lips. Alright. This I can … this I can do. “Gonna let me warm you up now?” With a single nod, your mouth descended again, covering his.

—

tag list reblog coming soon!

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #pedro pascal character #the last of us #tlou #the last of us fic #just too good to be gone #jtgtbg #pedro pascal is joel miller #ellie williams #tommy miller #maria miller #christmas in Jackson #your eyes outshine the town #joel miller fic

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chaotic-on-main · 1 year

Text

Who Could Leave Me? | ModernAU One-Shot

☾ Pairings ➼ Levi Ackerman x gn!Reader

☾ Content/Warnings ➼ angst, death, funeral, depression, if you squint really hard there's comfort? but mainly all hurt, alcohol mentions

☾ Author's note ➼ I'm actively going through my abandonment triggers and what better way to explore my emotions than to write about it. Betrayal, being left behind. They're the same thing to my ill brain. Anyways, I'm so sorry for the hurt I'm about to spring on y'all but I hope you'll forgive me. Now, back to my summer commissions and UW!

☾ Word Count ➼ ~2.5k

☾ Songs I listened to while writing:

Betrayal was nothing new to you. Being left behind was just the same. But when you’re left behind and betrayed at the same time, that’s a whole new feeling. Especially when it came from someone you trusted.

But it wasn’t your fault, was it?

Your name floats by in a whisper, a voice you know all too well.

You wake up with a start and a pounding headache. The autumnal sunrise filters through your sheer curtains in light blue hues, illuminating the room enough to see the outlines of the mess around you. You’re on your stomach, face half buried in a pillow with your arm splayed out on the other side of the bed. Your fingers curl up in the empty space.

Oh, yeah.

Maybe if you go back to sleep, you’ll wake up and everything will make sense again, you tell yourself.

What a stupid thought, you tell yourself.

Rolling onto your back, you stare up at the dark ceiling. It didn’t matter how much you tried to slow time down, today came anyway. You weren’t ready. So, you stay in bed until the blue turns into oranges and finally yellows.

What time was it anyways? Then again, why did it matter? You didn’t care.

“Love?” You hear whispered from the other side of your door. It’s Hange, a mutual friend you met a while back. They stayed over last night no doubt to make sure you didn’t drink yourself into oblivion. It didn’t work, but you vaguely remember them checking in on you every hour, so you imagine that was enough for them.

They knock softly against the wood.

“I’m going to step out to get some preparations ready. I’ll be back in a couple hours to pick you up. Try to be ready by then, okay?” You turn your head at their voice and spot their shadow in the slit of the door. After a minute of silence from you, the shadow slips away. The sound of the front door closing reverberates through the house and then it’s silent again.

The hours that proceeded were spent in a catatonic state. Your wide eyes stayed glued to the ceiling, not a single thought floating by. You suppose that wasn’t a bad thing. You’re not sure how long it had been, but another soft knock echoes through your room eventually.

“You’re still in bed, aren’t you?” It’s Hange again. They sound tired. “I’m coming in.”

You roll on your side so you’re facing your friend as they step into your room with a squeak of the door. An onyx pantsuit drapes over Hange’s tall frame, their rectangular spectacles glinting off the only source of light in the room – the afternoon sun.

“I knew you’d have trouble getting up.” They make their way over to you. Grabbing your blankets, they pull it all the back so that you’re exposed to the chill in the room. It makes you groan in displeasure, but you let it happen anyways.

They pull you out of bed with a ‘hup!’ and lead you into the connected bathroom, you follow with shuffling feet. Despite the sun being out and being under baggy long sleeves, the air is still cold so goosebumps pop up everywhere along your arms and legs.

They release your arm, leaving you in the middle of the bathroom as they zoom around you. The bath faucet is on in mere seconds and as the tub fills, they grab a few towels from the linen closet.

It’s weird because you watch all of this happening but for some reason, none of it is comprehending in your brain. It’s all a blur as they strip you down, lead you to the bath, and help you in. Before you know it, you’re half sunken and leaning all the way back, only your nose and up sits above the steamy water.

“You know, Levi had to help me with this in college, too.” Hange whispers behind you as they massage shampoo into your hair. It smells like roses. You hum back softly, not really sure how to respond.

Levi’s name doesn’t hurt you as much as you thought it would, but you’re not certain if that’s a good or bad thing. Everything feels numb, even the hot water that felt like it should be stinging against your skin.

“It kind of feels like the passing of torches, you know?” They chuckle quietly at the nostalgia.

The rest of the bath passes by. Rinsing off when asked, getting out when told, holding still when Hange dried you gently with a towel. Staying when Hange tells you to wait as they go grab the clothes that they had set out for you to wear today. You were a robot awaiting orders and nothing else.

Hange adorns your body with a simple long sleeve black dress. It goes down to your knees and the rest is covered by fleece leggings and warm socks. Eventually, they drag you out to the bedroom and sit you down while they lace up your boots. This is all done in silence, though you don’t miss the looks Hange gives you.

They’re the same looks that everyone has given you since the incident. Like you’re fragile and ready to break at any time. Though, you guess you can’t fault them for that. Your actions the last few weeks haven’t told otherwise.

“Hey,” Hange whispers down to you, and you shift your gaze up to their light brown eyes, full of sadness. “Did you…?” They hold out a ring to you.

It’s simple. Silver, studded with a handful of diamonds. You can’t see it, but engraved on the inside is the word ‘yours’ in Levi’s neat handwriting. A wedding band.

You reach out hesitantly, hand shaking as you take it as if you were afraid it might crumble on contact. With those same shaky fingers, you slip it on your left ring finger. It had been a bit since you last wore it, but like a bike you find familiarity with it again. Only this time, it feels heavier than ever.

“Are you ready to go?” Hange holds their hand out to you with a small smile.

It starts raining as soon as you both leave the house, heavy clouds eclipsing the sun for the rest of the day. Perfect for a funeral.

Outside of the warm tent, gentle but cold raindrops splash on the trees above and trickle down to the white plastic and onto the muddy ground. With the overcast of stormy clouds, the day is cold. It’s almost fitting, like a movie you’ve seen a million times. And you were the main character. It would make you laugh if you weren’t so drained.

As they call your name to wrap the service up with a eulogy, you feel your heartbeat quicken. You had requested to have it last as it was a job put on you and you wanted to push it off as much as possible. But your pulse racing isn’t from nerves, it’s from anger. Sadness. Frustration. Like a fissure in a dam, realization comes to you.

You can’t do this. How could he do this to you?

Your feet are running before you know it. Out the tent and up the hill into the enclosure of the forest that lines the cemetery. You don’t stop until you feel someone grabbing your wrist tightly and holding you back. It’s a strong grip from a warm hand.

“Le-?” You turn around and almost slip on the leaf littered floor.

Standing in front of you is a man about a foot taller, blond undercut and misty blue eyes that stare hard at you. Erwin Smith, Levi’s closest friend – Levi would always deny being called best friends, something you always teased him with.

“You can’t keep hiding and running from the truth.” He says gently. Downturned eyes and a frown to match, he gives you the same look everyone else is giving.

“Stop looking at me like that.” These are the first words you’ve said aloud in a few weeks. Your voice comes out scratchy and it hurts.

“Like what?”

“Like I’m just going to break down at a drop of a hat.”

“Maybe you need to. Have you even cried yet?”

“I don’t want to cry.”

“Maybe you should.”

You narrow your eyes at him. You haven’t seen him in about a month, but he was always a good confidant so to say that your high walls weren’t about to crumble down would be a lie. That fissure is growing with every second he stares at you.

“Erwin, why are you here?”

“I’m here to celebrate the life of my friend, same as everyone else. We’re all upset, too. We need you just as much as you need us.” His grip tightens on you. The rain is coming down harder and you start feeling the cold seep through your clothes and into your bones. You notice Erwin’s usual combed back hair is now in his face, dripping water into his eyes.

There’s silence as you try to figure out what to say. That was the problem, wasn’t it? Your eulogy sits half finished on your dresser because you had no idea what to say.

What was even appropriate for others to hear? What would be selfish and what wouldn’t be? You suppose it’s all considerably selfish. The one who could call you out on your shit effectively isn’t here.

A low roll of thunder rumbles from above as you face off with him.

“There’s nothing to celebrate.” You mumble.

“You don’t me-“

“He’s not here, Erwin! He left me!” You feel your voice rising with every syllable. He opens his mouth to say something else but now that you’ve found your voice, you can’t stop the word vomit.

“He chose to go back into that building because of who he is. And I hate him for it! How could he do that to me?? Didn’t he think about me?” A sob racks in your chest, and it takes a moment to catch your breath so as to not choke. The water streaming down your face turns warm and you can practically taste the salt of your more-than-late tears as you continue on.

“What it would mean for him leaving me? Nothing feels right anymore, nothing feels like home because he was my home. He promised he’d be around for as long as I wanted him. But I still want him!” Erwin pulls you into his chest and holds you close as you start sobbing harder. They rip out of your throat just like the words you shout, voice becoming hoarse with every line. You don’t fight his vice grip. But you don’t stop either.

“I said I would always follow his lead. But why did he have to go somewhere where I can’t follow. He left me behind. He said he never would and he did it anyway. I hate him so much. I hate him for making me love him and then leaving me like this. I didn’t even get to say goodbye.” You trail off, losing yourself in the cries of your pain. Everything hurts as you shake - the only thing holding you together is Erwin’s tight embrace.

The rain pours around you two as you continue to weep into Erwin’s drenched suit. He doesn’t say anything, only placing his hand on top of your head and holding you closer.

“I don’t know what I could say to help, truthfully. But I know that Levi wouldn’t ever want you to feel this way.” He says finally, his voice rumbling deep in his chest. “Terrible things happen, and they can’t be explained. But it’s no one’s fault, not even his. It’s easy to point the blame, but sometimes there isn't anything to blame.”

“That’s not good enough, Erwin.” You mutter in between hitched breaths.

“I know, especially not now. But it will get easier. You need to be more patient with yourself. And be kind.” He whispers down to you, a hand rubbing up and down your back as he talks.

Erwin stays with you until you can breathe again. He offered to take over the eulogy for you, which you gladly accepted. You didn’t even show up to the rest of the funeral, instead opting to sit in Hange’s car until they came for you and drove you home in silence.

A few weeks had passed since Levi’s service. At Erwin’s request, you had been more patient with yourself in that time. Of course, none of it was easier - but you weren’t running anymore. With shaky resolve, you were able to bring yourself down to the cemetery.

You twist your wedding band in between two fingers as you walk down the path to where your late husband rests. Your heart feels like it’s about to explode in anticipation. You hadn’t seen the tombstone that Hange helped pick out, so when your eyes finally fall on it, it’s enough to make you stop in your tracks.

Levi Ackerman

Dec. 25th 1983 – Oct. 17th 2023

“The only thing we’re allowed to do is believe that we won’t regret the choice we made.”

He often said to live your life with no regrets. The thing that has been gnawing at you finally comes to you in a new light. Levi wasn’t the type to do anything without thinking. He knew the risks, and you knew the risks of loving him.

Your feet stumble over the soft grass, and you lean down to place a small bouquet of flowers onto the fresh dirt. There’s a layer of permafrost from this morning, just barely starting to melt. Today is warm with the sun out, but that doesn’t stop the fog of breath that comes out with every spoken word.

“I’m sorry for everything I said, Levi. I’m not mad anymore. I just miss you so much.” You sit yourself down carefully, facing the tombstone.

There’s no answer, of course. The only thing you hear is the whistling of the cold wind blowing through the almost empty trees that came with this time of year. You tuck your chin into the scarf wrapped around your neck. It still smells like Levi – clean laundry and pine.

“I don’t want to be here if you’re not. I see you everywhere.” Your words start to choke again. The day of the funeral made that dam within you break open and since then, you find yourself to be more vulnerable. More fragile, like everyone expected. “And I can’t pretend that it’s okay when it’s not. But I’ll try for you, because I know that’s what you’d want.” You whisper, silent tears streaking down your face into the scarf as you shudder.

“I love you. And I will see you again.”

-> Taglist: @humanitys-strongest-bamf @sckerman @nube55 @notgoodforlife @kingkonoha @missyasma @highgoon69 @elsasarahi @kamyru @eriellaa @genyastolemyheart @jadam724 @sujiroses @levisversion @apolloshaiku @secretmoneybearvoid @romantichomicide95 @elnyrae @dkbktk420 @icansmellsouls @levis-squishy-cheeks @missamity @roseofdarknessblog @youre-ackermine @averysmolbear

If you'd like to join my taglist, please go here! (also if you had multichapter fics marked or would be interested in my JJK content, please go back into your answers and recheck them! I fucked up and didn't realize if I changed the answers, it would uncheck things lmao oops)

#i'm sorry y'all #levi ackerman #attack on titan #levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #angst #hurt no comfort #hurt/no comfort #cw death #cw alcohol #aot #shingeki no kyojin #snk #x reader

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ananxiousgenz · 6 months

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TPP HADESTOWN AU PART 6

whaaaaat part 6??? we're shifting into nureyev mode guys

tagging the regular crew: @smidgen-of-hotboy @ceaseless-watchers-special-girl @urjover @one-joe-spoopy @waters-and-the-wilde (@demonic-panini you're getting tagged too bc i've seen your reblogs :D)

it was so cold. and he was so damn hungry.

food and firewood had been scarce in recent years because the weather had been so brutal, but even then peter nureyev was no stranger to cold and hunger.

he had spent most of his childhood hopping between towns, traveling whenever the winds changed, always hungry for more food and better work. it didn't do him much good. things were always just as bad at the next town as they were at the last.

that was, until he met juno steel.

juno was.... a lot of things. a singer. a sweetheart. stubborn. gentle. clever. funny, and often unintentionally so. they met and got married in a rush, which would make most people nervous, but peter didn't mind. rita had been right about him, that day they first met at the bar.

juno steel was pretty damn good at making people feel alive again.

for the first couple months, things were good. no, not just good. they were wonderful. even if he wasn't singing that song he was so hellbent on finishing, something about juno's presence was so soothing. it made peter feel like he could finally begin to take off the layers of exhaustion and stolen identities he'd worn like armor for the past decade or two. those days, he would fall asleep in juno's arms, and when he dreamed, he dreamed of spring rains and new leaves and a world that had finally been spun back into tune. he dreamed of a future for himself and juno, with a little house and a garden, and maybe one of those big dogs he'd always been so fond of. even if things still weren't right with the world, he was starting to have hope- no, faith- that they would be. that juno's song would work.

he was finally beginning to feel human again. love will do that to you, I suppose.

and then the weather took a turn for the worse.

juno began spending more time on the song and less time working, the money began to dry up, and the food and firewood went with it. peter started waking up late at night to an empty bed, and the distant notes of the song floating up through their window, open to the frigid night air. once, he even caught juno muttering about the gods and their song in his sleep, and he was beginning to get worried.

peter tried, more than once, to ask him about the song, ask about the money, ask how long it would be until things were okay again, but it was like juno couldn't hear him. all he could hear was fractals of the song and its siren promise of spring again. he asked rita once if this was normal, and she said it was, and buddy, the woman who owned the bar, said it was nothing to worry about, but that didn't set his mind at ease at all.

because it seemed like there was nothing else to be done, peter nureyev decided to take matters into his own hands.

he began searching around for easy sources of food and warmth, but with most vegetation dead from the constant cold and wind, there was little to be found. peter was no stranger to pickpocketing and theft if it was absolutely necessary, but that became a bit difficult when there was almost no one around to pickpocket. jobs in the area were scarce as well, and peter wasn't sure how much longer they could rely on buddy's gracious nature for a place to stay. simply put, they were running out of options and time.

and that was how he ended up here, trudging through the snow and biting wind with an empty belly and little more than a shitty coat to keep him warm. he wasn't sure how long he had been out walking, but he knew it had been hours. each step was starting to feel like a herculean effort, and he was pretty sure if he risked removing his hands from the pockets of his coat, they just might fall off his body.

he didn't know where to go next. but he was getting dizzy, and large splotches of the world were beginning to disappear as his vision faded in and out. he was just. so. hungry.

hidden in the snow, he tripped over a ledge and landed hard on his knees. the pain rattled his already cold-brittle bones and he hissed out a pained breath through his teeth.

when peter had struggled to his feet, he saw he had tripped over the platform edge of a train station. it was completely deserted. funny, he could still remember the days when a station like this would have been packed with people going on vacation or traveling to visit family, maybe even looking to start a better life.

now, everyone knew. it was the same everywhere you went. so there was no point in trying to leave to find better weather or work or food.

he looked up from readjusting his coat and scarf to see that the station wasn't completely deserted after all. a tall man in a long, brown jacket stood at the other end of the platform.

peter and the man regarded each other for a moment before the man crossed the platform with large, heavy strides.

"good evening, sir. would you like a job?"

peter took a step back. ".......what?"

"I repeat: good evening, sir. would you like a job?"

the man spoke like a robot, clear and even, but unsettlingly emotionless. something about him wasn't right.

but the promise of a job.... it meant food. warmth. another month in the apartment buddy rented out to peter and juno. more time for juno to finish his song. and that was all he needed right? just a little more time.

peter narrowed his eyes. "how do you know I need a job?"

"your coat is torn in multiple places and covered with dirt, your glasses are broken, and you look like you have not paid attention to your personal hygiene in some time. poverty is a difficult thing to cover up. we employ only the very poor and truly desperate."

nureyev bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from snapping. "fair enough."

the man smiled a bit at that, and handed him a slip of paper. peter opened his mouth to ask, but the man cut him off.

"if you wish to accept our offer, meet me back on this train platform at 5 o'clock. that is your train ticket. do not lose it. good day, my associate."

with that, the man turned around and walked off the platform, and out into the snow.

#i'm stopping here bc i can't keep going #the next one......#the next one will hurt #that's gonna go through the song "gone #so good luck #love yall <3 #the penumbra podcast #tpp #tpp hadestown au

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bullet-prooflove · 8 months

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Covert Affairs: Vostanik Sabatino x Reader (feat: G. Callen)

Tagging: @kmc1989 @novamariestark @words-and-seeds @thiashazzywriting @whateversomethingbruh

You’ve been with Sabatino almost two years when your relationship gets thrust into the spotlight. It’s a litany of stolen moments whenever he arrives back in LA. Whirlwind dinner dates and nights spent ruining you in the sheets of his hotel room. You hit your favourite brunch spots, ranking them with detailed notes you keep on your phone for the next time he’s in town. He gives you a tour of Hollywood, the places he used to haunt back in the day when he was playing with his band. You catch a couple of shows over pitchers of beer in a dive bar or two.

“Do you ever think about doing it again?” You ask him as you watch the band from a spot near the bar. Your back comes to rest against his chest, his arm looped around your waist, holding you close.

“Maybe one day, when I finally put down some roots.” He murmurs into your ear as he nuzzles the curve of your throat. “I miss making music.”

He fucks you in the bathroom of the bar, the pulse of the music vibrating through the walls as he goes down on you to a God-awful rendition of ‘Killer Queen’. Whenever you hear that song in the aftermath, you think of that night. His mouth on you, tongue thrust deep inside when you come for him just as Freddy hits the high note.

Sam’s away in Somalia when Nell and Eric identify a problem. Someone has been downloading classified data from the NCIS server and selling it on the black market. An investigation is opened into everyone who was working at a computer terminal during the download, and you happen to be one of them. You’d stayed late to catch up on the after-action reports after losing a bet to Callen at the shooting rage.

It’s ridiculous that a tickle in your nose just as you’re about to pull the trigger is the reason your whole life blows up.

Part of the investigation includes cloning the personal phones of the people under suspicion so they can deep dive into their lives. You make it relatively easy, leaving yours in the top drawer of your desk when you hit the gym with Kensi. Nobody really believes it’s you, you’ve been with them six years. You’ve shed blood, cried tears, saved their lives, fought their battles. For Nell and Eric, it’s simply a process of elimination, that is until they find a wealth of incriminating data.

Calls from multiple international sources they can’t verify.

An encrypted message app, hidden under the calculator icon.

A secret cache of files that are password protected.

It’s all high-level security, something you don’t need on your personal device, almost NSA level shit. Even with their tech savvy it would take hours to break into the phone and they don’t have that kind of time because you’ve just received a text from a burner cell telling you to meet at The Majestic Hotel, Room 216, later this evening.

You must be meeting the buyer.

They can’t take the risk of that information falling into the wrong hands, so it becomes an op with you as the target. It’s hastily put together, there’s no time to run prior surveillance because it’s going down just as they pull up to the hotel. They catch a glimpse of you stepping into the room before the door closes quietly behind you.

Callen, Deeks and Kensi take up residence just outside the door, allowing a few minutes for the exchange to take place before they use the keycard to gain entry.

When they burst into the room guns drawn, it’s not what anyone expected.

The first thing they see is Sabatino. He’s in a state of undress. His white button up shirt hangs open, revealing his bare chest including that messy scar etched into his flesh. There’s lipstick marks trailing down the hollow of his throat, staining his skin. It’s fire engine red, the shade you were wearing. He holds his hands up in a gesture of surrender, his body shielding you from what he perceives to be a threat.

For Callen it's an echo back to that day in Afghanistan, the one when Sabatino put himself between you and the bullet that would have ended your life.

When you step out from behind him, you’re in a similar state of disarray. Your lipstick is smeared across your mouth, your hands tugging the fabric of the black wrap dress around your body covering up the lingerie that you’re wearing.

You’re both arrested and taken to separate interrogation rooms in the Boatshed. You’re silent in the face of the accusation but Sabatino, he will not stop talking. He’s pissed on your behalf, that your team won’t give you the benefit of the doubt, that you’re being treated like a criminal. Him, he’s used to this shit, but you deserve better.

You don’t blame them for suspecting you, you know how it looks. You’d be doing the same thing in their shoes; in fact, you have.

They sweat you for a while, leave you spinning your wheels. It’s standard procedure in a case like this, let the suspect get in their own head, make them eager to talk. You know what’ll happen in that time, they’ll find evidence of your relationship with Sabatino. It’s not that that bothers you, it’s the intimate items you’d brought with you to the hotel room sitting in your overnight bag. The one that someone is now going to have to search through. It’s humiliating.

It's Callen that comes to interrogate you, you didn’t expect anything different, he is your superior after all. You know that your conversation is about to get a lot more personal because Callen has to consider the possibility that Sabatino’s been using you for intel, he wouldn’t be doing his due diligence if he didn’t.

“Your relationship with Sabatino, take me through it.”

So, you do, from that first kiss in the car to the last time he was in town. As you detail your relationship, things start to make sense to Callen, pieces he hasn’t put together until now. Sabatino’s reaction back in Afghanistan when you were taken, the fact he’d undertaken the prisoner walk instead of a member of your team. He had known that bullet was coming, that the Taliban couldn’t afford to let you go. He’d been prepared to die for you that day.

Callen thinks about earlier in the hotel room, Sabatino’s first instinct had been to get between you and whatever was coming through that door. He understands that urge, it’s reactive and primal, like a wolf protecting his mate.

There’s other things he’s noticed. Sabatino’s smile when you’re around, it brighter, more genuine. The look he gives you, there’s always a warmth in it despite the fact he’s being a smartass. The last time they’d arrested him, he’d been reserved but this time he’s irate and Callen knows that it comes from a place of love. That he’s infuriated on your behalf.

At the end of your story, you give him the passwords for your phone. Everything you need to prove the existence of your relationship resides on that device.

“See for yourself.” You tell him and he does.

Those files you’d encrypted?

Selfies.

The two of you eating ice cream on the boulevard, the sun setting in the background. Sabatino kissing your cheek as you smile into the camera at a bar in Hollywood. Him playing a guitar on the couch in your living room, a book of chords laid out in front of him. There’s more of them, documenting your relationship over the past two years. For anyone else these would be normal Instagram images but for someone who’s a covert agent they’re a death sentence.

The hidden chat app?

It’s full of voice notes filled with private, intimate things that no one else should ever be privy to.

When I look up at the sky tonight it reminds me of Afghanistan, the first night I spent with you.

You looked too beautiful to wake up this morning, I’m sorry I had to leave.

The sun’s just rising here, and all I can think about is how I wish I was waking up next to you.

The international calls?

Callen realises it’s Sabatino checking in, letting you know he’s still alive.

By all accounts he’s looking at a couple in love, one that’s been forced to keep their relationship a secret due the nature of Sabatino’s career. Callen’s worked for the CIA; he knows the risks. He also knows that this man would set the entire world on fire if anything happened to you.

“Come for a drink tonight.” Callen suggests when it’s all said and done. “I wanna get to know Sabatino a little better, you know, just in case he ends up joining the family.”

You roll your eyes as you stand in the main room of the Boatshed, gathering the few personal items that had been transported with you.

“Our very fucked up little family.” You retort.

“Neither less he’s important to you, so he’s important to us too.” Callen tells you.

You can hear the sincerity in voice. Callen doesn’t say things he doesn’t mean, not to you. You’ve been lied to too many times in the past before you’d transferred to LA. Your old partner back San Diego had been corrupt, it had been a severe blow to your psyche. You’d been transferred to LA because you were deemed a problem child. Callen got that, he’d understood it. He’d made you a deal.

“If you’re upfront with me, I’ll be upfront with you, it’s a two-way street.”

That’s the way the two of you operated and it had worked consistently over the past six years.

“Even after all of this.” You say gesturing at the monitors that oversee the interrogation rooms.

You’re talking about the fact that you’ve spent two years hiding your life with a man, he has a kinda love/hate relationship with. Out of everyone you work with Callen has the most trust issues, this should be a problem for him, but the thing is, it’s not. He understands it on both levels. You’re protecting the man you love, and Sabatino, he’s protecting you too.

“Especially after all of this.” He says firmly before he places his palms on the surface of the wooden table and tilting his head up to meet your gaze. “Look I’m not going to pretend I understand what you see in the guy, but he cares about you, hell he almost died for you, and I can’t fault him for that. Trust me I want to, but I can’t.”

There’s an edge of humour to his voice because his interactions with Sabatino have always fluctuated between irritation and respect. The man is an excellent operative, and the problem is he knows it. You find yourself smiling despite yourself, your fingertips tapping lightly on the table.

“Alright.” You agree because this how you step into the light, how the two of you move forward into the future. “But the drinks are on you guys tonight.”

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#ncis la #erik palladino #sabatino x reader #sabatino x you #sabatino #Vostanik Sabatino x reader #ncis los angeles #Vostanik Sabatino x you #Vostanik Sabatino #nik sabatino #nik sabatino x reader #nik sabatino x you

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rhysdarbinizedarby · 1 year

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Relax, I’m From The Future

A conversation with writer-director Luke Higgingson

Relax, I’m From The Future was a surprise fav of mine at last year’s Fantasia Fest, and it’s finally getting a theatrical release! The movie is a punk rock sci-fi comedy with a lot of wit and even more heart starring Rhys Darby (Flight of the Conchords, Our Flag Means Death) and Gabrielle Graham (Possessor, Twenties) as an unlikely duo trying, sort of, not really, to save the world. I got a chance to speak with writer-director Luke Higginson a few weeks ago about all the work that went into his debut feature. Read our (lightly edited for clarity) conversation below!

Tell me, how do you describe this movie to other people?

It’s very much my attempt to work through my anxieties about the future and the state of the world in a way that might bring me some comfort without eliminating the very real cynicism I have about it. [My short film in 2013] started as a simple joke idea — the idea of an unprepared timetraveler — and then when people sort of liked that film more than I expected, I thought about how I would make that meaningful enough to expand it. And as I noodled on that, Trump got elected, and Covid happened, a lot of terrible things happened… It really became a source of therapy for me to write this ridiculous film and pump my anxieties into it. That’s really where I found what the film was about.

There is an incredible dynamic between Rhys and Gabrielle — how did you work your story with them?

Gabriel Graham was the first person that I knew I wanted to cast [as Holly]. I saw Brandon Cronenberg’s Possessor, and she had such presence, but I didn’t know if she was funny, so I watched Twenties… it was clear she had comic chops.

For Casper [Rhys Darby’s character], you have to be on board with following him even when he does some questionable things. And also, he’s on screen for so much of the movie that it had to be someone with real energy, especially in a script that’s mostly people talking to each other. There weren’t a lot of people that I felt fit that. Then when his name was floated, it was immediately like omg holy shit that would be amazing! My producers at Wango films are phenomenally gifted at getting scripts in hands. I spent a couple of days building up a dossier of arguments for why he should do the film. And when we got on the call and he was just like “Hey, so I just wanted to meet ya and make sure you were ok with me doing this movie”, I was blown away. He had this tiny little window where we could get him for 15 shooting days and he agreed to come up [to Hamilton, Ontario] and do it. I’m still pinching myself about that, it was amazing.

In terms of working with them, because of that window of time, there was no time for rehearsal. There was barely time for Rhys to learn his lines. I got one hour of Rhys and Gabby in a room together before the first day of shooting… Something clicked, it was like Oh it’s Casper and Holly, they’re hanging out!

The scene in the playground — where the two of them are sharing a bottle of booze and talking — was incredibly cold, absurdly cold. And they were both very underdressed for that weather. They were both improving and bouncing off of each other. That was the scene where I felt like ah there’s something special between these two in particular. It was cool, it was really special, both of them are just amazing.

Wait, the shooting schedule was only 15 days?

We had Rhys for 15 days, and we shot for 18 days, but Rhys is in almost all of the movie.

How did the music in the movie play into writing your story and how did you manage to clear all those songs?

I knew a ton of people in the Toronto indie-rock punk scene and I always knew that if I ever got to make a movie, I knew all these great songs that no one knows. I listened to a lot of that stuff writing the film — Holly being part of the punk scene was very important to the character. I gave [Gabrielle] a playlist of a bunch of 70s CBGB stuff, she watched a documentary on Poly Styrene. That really embodied the vibe of the music. I wanted it to be all Toronto music on the soundtrack, it’s basically a split between songs from bands that I played with or went to see back in the day and bands that are still operating right now. The big coup was getting Pup involved, which was really exciting. They didn’t have to say yes at all, but they really were big fans of Rhys and [because of Covid] I think they were a little itchy to get on stage in front of a bunch of people. We got to use a few of their songs, as well as Metz and Bad Waitress and a couple of other great bands.

In terms of the licensing side what I didn’t expect as a problem was that many of those bands no longer exist and never had any kind of official existence in terms of paper work or legality, so I perhaps foolishly did not see that coming as a problem. Anagram, Sailboats Are White, Lunchmeat — all great bands that I love, but [licensing their songs] was a trickier thing than I thought it was gonna be.

What are some of the challenges or joys that you encountered in the editing room, putting this thing together?

The editing process was long, longer than I expected. My baby was 6 months old when we started shooting, which was a real challenge for me and my wife. I literally edited the film with my baby next to me, so it took a while. But really, it was about matching the film to Rhys’s rhythm. When we [cast] Rhys, who’s one of the best improvisers comedically in the world, I knew that [for the edit] I was gonna want both sides of the conversations he has with Gabby. So any time that Rhys is talking to another person, there’s two cameras going at the same time and that really allowed us to use the little moments of inspiration and improvisation. If Rhys gives you a piece of gold, you know that you have it covered. That was big, I think both in the shooting and in the editing.

Time travel can be a tricky narrative device! How did you build the rules of this universe?

I knew right off the bat that I was neither capable nor interested in doing something scientifically “accurate”, but you also don’t want the audience to feel like you don’t give a shit. It has to feel like there’s an internal consistency. So my guiding principle was that rules of time travel are going to be what serves the humour and the story, and then once I have those things, to make sure it’s internally consistent. It actively subverts what I felt was the most common tropes — like in Terminator, you have to be naked to travel through time, in my movie you have to have no skin showing of any kind. In most time travel movies you can go back and forth, in mine you can only go back. When drafting it out, I went with the ideas that I found funny, then once I had the beats, I worked very hard to make sure it was internally consistent within that.

What was screening your film at Fantasia like?

It was incredible, I can’t say enough good things about Fantasia. I wanna shout out programmer Carolyn Mauricette, who saw a very rough cut of the film without any of the sound mix or special effects. She saw it, she got it, she connected to it. It just meant so much, that phase of the editing process, you’re very emotionally fragile, you have no idea if you’ve made something that works or not, and that was such a vote of confidence.

What are you hoping people take away from this?

I am genuinely very excited for people to see Rhys do this. I feel like he uses some muscles that you don’t get to see him use normally, he’s such a star. And I think Gabriel Graham is incredibly slept on, like she’s a successful actor but I think way more people should know her. I’m gonna sit in on a bunch of screenings — I never need to watch the movie again, but I do love watching the audience watch it, and there are some moments in the back third of the movie that I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of hearing an audience react to.

I didn’t even ask you about Julian Richings!

He’s incredible! I got him [cast as Percy] by recording a video begging him to be in the movie because he’s a legend! I first saw him in Hard Core Logo when I was a teenager, he’s so captivating. So ya, I recorded a shameless message and sent it to him, and luckily he is the sweetest man in the world, just the easiest person in the world to work with — I can’t say enough nice things about him.

I think this movie has a lot for a lot of different crowds of people — you got the gays, you got the nerds, you got the horror fans -

Those are all my people! Those are my favourite type of people!

I’m excited for people to see it!

Me too!

Source: Bad Critic

#rhys darby #ofmd #our flag means death #relax i'm from the future #interview #luke higginson

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sizzlingpatrolfox · 1 year

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What do you think

https://www.tumblr.com/keeperoftinyarmy/722957705655025664/im-about-to-cleanse-my-sm-because-apparently-i?source=share

Jikookers are always "Jimin is my bias but..."

"As if JK and Jimin aren’t close and talking all the time about their work. Logically speaking they probably planned for a tie between their projects…it’s too much to be lazy styling or coincidence. "

There's literally months of evidence of them not knowing a lot of things about each other but okay.

"It makes the most sense from a business standpoint…the lead singer…sellout king…arguably the most popular member and he sounds great singing in English. That’s a stockholders dream."

That's why they're not angry and they don't care. Because they actually genuinely believe he deserves it more than Jimin. They believe Jimin is not enough for the same treatment.

Nobody wanted special treatment for Jimin, everyone wanted the SAME treatment for all of them. Isn't that what ot7 is supposed to mean?

It's not that Jimin only wasn't promoted enough, he was actually sabotaged and pushed down so they'd have Jungkook standing over his head.

This is not real success. They're literally magicians making you believe something that never existed before. Someone who used to get at most 4 million debut streams for all of his songs, suddenly getting these numbers is not realistic.

You know what, it's even insulting to Harry that they're comparing them because after 1D Harry spent two years working on his first album, and he had released three full solo English albums before he reached massive mainstream success. And his streams still aren't nowhere near this. No matter where you look at it from, it's just not real. Nothing about the "success" of this song is real. They've been saying fastest to reach 100 itunes when itunes preorders were opened for two weeks before release. It wasn't two hours, it was two weeks.

And Spotify now can actually add streams days later? Be for fucking real.

His versions don't even have the same id code and they're still combined, while Jimin got split and never put back together. Jungkook's CD was restocked in a couple of days, Jimin's has been out of stock for months. It's not only that they did more for Jungkook, but they didn't do anything for Jimin.

Completely missing the point of singing in English. He will be singing in English because if he sings in Korean nobody would give him the time of the day. It would take him 10 years, the time it took BTS -who actually had real success- or even more as a soloist, to be sort of taken seriously in the US while singing in Korean. And his English is actually awful.

I better not see any fake woke armys making rants about "stop asking them to speak in English!!1!1".

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hvneybxns · 10 months

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(—) ★ spotted!! BROOKS GRIFFIN on the cover of this week’s most recent tabloid! many say that the 30 year old looks like MILES TELLER, but i don’t really see it. while the BULL RIDER / STUNT DOUBLE is known for being DRIVEN my inside sources say that they have a tendency to be FLIRTATIOUS i swear, every time i think of them, i hear the song COWBOYS & ANGELS BY JESSIE MURPH { he-him / cismale }

brooks griffin grew up a chronic middle child, never unloved by his parents but also never the center of attention with three siblings either side of him. he was wild, a little unkempt and liked to get himself into bother because the longest that his trouble would ever last was a few hours till another kid in the line up did something.

he did good in school when he could focus but that was a problem and brooks would rather have been out on a horse than in a class room. he looked up to his dad and big brother wyatt in everything they did and he wanted to be just like them.

when brooks was 11, wyatt and his friends went to a summer fair rodeo and wanting nothing more than to be like his brother, brooks snuck in the back of the truck to the fair. he had been planning on telling his brother that he was there as soon as they arrived but the boys all piled out and brooks lost them somewhere in the mix. it didn't matter to him though because he had made his way to the bull riding pen and he was in awe.

brooks stood and watched the show for hours, each rider that came and went fascinating him more till someone seemed to notice the unattended 11 year old and brooks ended up driven home to the ranch in the back of a police car. he ended up grounded but that was perfect for him, he built himself a rig in one of the barns that didn't get used much and began to learn to be like the men that he had watched.

a few months later his parents realized that it wasn't a phase and eventually started to work on his passion with brooks given it was the first thing that he had shown this much passion in. he only got better as he got older, a habit in the griffin household and he was competing by the time he was fourteen.

well into his twenties brooks was a household name to anyone that had any interest in, his bones hurt and he had a worse back than his dad that had spent years on the ranch but that didn't stop the thrill that came every time he hit that 8 seconds, didn't stop the rush he got when his name was called as the winner and those world champions rolled in. competing for state and himself brooks was at the top of his game and nothing was going to shake him off.

after his last title win, people kept telling brooks that he needed to slow down but he didn't believe them, didn't think that it was the right time but when an offer landed on his door step, the male found himself willing to consider a slight change of pace, for a couple of years at least, so long as he could still ride. when the fancy studio contacted him about coming in and consulting and doubling as a stunt rider on the set of some big movie brooks found himself intrugued, with a brother already in LA the move wouldn't cut him off from everything and would give him a break that his body needed for a few months.

now in LA he feels like a fish out of water but he's used to using all his texas charm for good and it just taking things one day at a time.

#brooks intro.#hillzintro

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caxycreations · 1 year

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Tylvinian Tales: The Wolf's Den

Chapter Five: Trace

CW: Suggestive jokes/innuendo

Ferusian Law, Second Sequence, Article Two: Auxiliary Income

Citizens are entitled to additional income through unregistered means, so long as that income and its source is declared once monthly. Auxiliary income exceeding $5,000 per month is subject to standard income tax.

Failure of any citizen to declare auxiliary income or its source is punishable by a fine of $10,000 and up to five years imprisonment.

Failure of any citizen to pay standard income tax on auxiliary income exceeding $5,000 is punishable by up to five years imprisonment.

He lived across town, and Tylvin’s traffic wasn’t the fastest. On the one hand, it was frustrating to deal with the other drivers on the road. On the other hand, David got a little more time to recover from our conversation. I looked over at David, chuckling to myself. There was a song playing on the radio, I’d been tuning it out, and there he was sitting next to me lip-syncing the words and half-dancing in his seat. It was adorable, to say the least. His tail was around his waist, but loosely, and the end of it was flicking and swaying in time with the music. His fingers danced across the dashboard of the truck, tapping out the beat.

His teeth, white and pointed, with those trademark feline fangs, flashed with every word as his lips parted and closed to mimic speech, silently singing along. He was really enjoying the tune, and I smiled at him before looking back to the road, gently braking at a traffic light. I could feel the truck ever so gently shifting, David’s dancing moving the truck in rhythm the slightest bit. I loved seeing him like this, seeing him happy. I’d seen him sad often enough, and it made every moment he spent smiling one worth cherishing, as far as I was concerned. He deserved it, this happiness. This, and more.

My mind flashed back to last night. He had his eyes on someone. Merissa had said they were big. Strong. Why hadn’t they come to his party? Were they embarrassed of him? Or did they just not care? What could have possibly been so important to miss it? I felt a growl welling up in my chest and fought to stifle it. He wasn’t worth worrying over. If he hurt David, he’d have Davina and I to answer to. I was strong, and hard to put down, and it wasn’t often I met someone who could take me in a fight. But even with all my power and all my resilience, I was terrified of David’s sister.

She was fast, smart, and when she got mad she was as terrifying as a late storm, all lightning and rage. She was one of the sweetest people I’d ever met, but even hundreds of miles away I knew she’d be here in an hour or less if she found out anyone had hurt David. Glancing at him as I accelerated, seeing the light had turned green, it was hard to believe just last night he had been crying into my chest over this guy. Dancing, now abandoning all pretense and openly singing along to the songs playing on the radio, his smile ten miles long.

He was complicated to me. He could be broken, shattered, completely destroyed one moment and a single joke could bring him back to full delight. Meanwhile, I’d watched him become inconsolable over the characters of a movie or a TV show. I didn’t quite understand how he could be so deeply attached to fiction when real pains were so easily forgotten. But I suppose it wasn’t my job to understand, really. My job, as far as I was concerned, was to keep him happy and be there for him. Keep him safe from people like the bastard that stood him up last night. My job was to care, not to comprehend.

As we drove, songs ended and new ones began, with David singing along to each one. A couple of songs in, I found myself joining him. Our voices found harmony and we maintained it, and I couldn’t help but wonder if I should ask him to join me for some vocal work on a new song some time. He was a wonderful singer, all high notes and melodious flair. My voice, deep and full of bass, with the trademark gravel typical of male greatwolves was appealing, or so I’d been told, and while it worked wonders for my particular brand of music, it could do so much more if I paired it with the mellifluous sound of David’s own.

He smiled at me, blue eyes twinkling with that pure joy I loved seeing in him, and as we pulled into the parking lot of his apartment complex, he made no move to get out. We sat there, singing and dancing in our seats as the song continued, all the way to its end. As the song finished, I pulled the key and opened my door, the truck turning off in response. We each stepped out, and David strolled up to the building.

It was a large building, one of the bigger complexes found in Tylvin. Forty stories high, and nearly the size of a city block at that. David lived on the ninth floor and knowing him he was going to insist on taking the stairs. He loved taking the long way whenever he could, seeing it as a good chance to exercise and keep his figure. I never cared much; it didn’t take much effort on my part to keep my build. I had always been at my best, even when I'd been lazy. I followed suit, approaching the building and watching David disappear through the front door.

I came through after him and saw him skipping his way to the elevators. He must be in a hurry if he was riding the elevator. I smiled, watching his tail sway idly, lazily half-looped around his waist and flicking excitedly. His eyes were locked on the elevator floor indicator, watching it count down slowly. I chuckled to myself, watching him bounce up and down in place. He glanced my way and smiled sheepishly, letting out an embarrassed “Mrow…”

I took my place beside him, patting his shoulder. “Not sure why you’re so excited, you’re grabbing a work uniform. To go to work.” I said, smirking teasingly at him. He bumped against me, purring a little.

“I dunno…I just feel good!” He replied, leaning against me and purring more noticeably. I rolled my eyes, letting him nuzzle against me. I didn’t return the affection often, I always felt strange being that way with folks, but I didn’t have any issue with David expressing his.

The elevator opened, and we stepped inside to ride it up. He hit the button for the ninth floor, and we started going up. He was still bouncing on his toes, purring and half-dancing to the music of the elevator. I took a second to listen to the melody, finding the rhythm. When I had, I leaned back against one corner to give him plenty of room, placing a hand on my thigh and patting loudly in time with the melody. With a solid beat to focus on, his movements took on more energy, now standing in the center of the elevator and idly dancing to the music.

I watched him, his paws tapping and shifting along the floor, arms lazily moving in what I imagine he thought made sense. His hair flicking and swaying with his movements and that long tail uncurling from his waist and shifting along with his dancing. I watched him let the music take over, let the beat control his paws, his hands. My eyes were locked on him, his own closed as he smiled softly. My eyes flicked to the indicator, and I grinned as the doors opened two floors early.

Two older men, jackals, stepped inside and saw David dancing and shuffled in past him. The caxy, hearing the door open, had opened his eyes to see that not only were we not on his floor, but we were now accompanied by a pair of strangers. He stopped dancing, shuffling over to my side shyly and looking down at the floor. I laughed a little and looked at the jackals. “Sorry about that, music’s music, y’know?”

The pair gave an apathetic nod with one of them pressing the button for the ground floor. The doors closed and we continued upward, with David standing idly by my side the rest of the way up. When the doors opened up to the ninth floor, we stepped out and I gave the jackals a nod before following David to his apartment. It had been a few months since I had last been inside the place. I looked around, hoping to have seen some changes since the last time I was here, though my smile faded the more I scanned my surroundings once inside.

His was a studio apartment, with a small living area and kitchen combined into a single room with his bedroom connected by a door. In the living area, in place of furniture were piles of boxes with masking tape marked by words written in permanent marker. Some were labelled clothes, others as dishes, some were simply marked as miscellaneous. On one side of the room was a large dresser, one I recalled helping him get in here. David made his way to it, opening the top drawer and rifling through it as I continued to explore his apartment, hoping for some sign of change.

The bedroom was largely as I remembered it. I couldn’t see any difference between its current state and what it was when I’d been here last, nearly six months ago. His bed was a mattress on the floor, a sheet loosely thrown over it and a weighted blanket over that, with a small pillow at the head. There was a door on one wall which led to the bathroom. He had a small desk against the opposite wall and a cheap rolling chair as well. The desk held pens, paper, pencils both mechanical and traditional, with several cases of graphite refills scattered across it.

On the desk, front and center, lay a rough profile sketch of a wolf, smiling wide. It hadn’t been colored yet, or even lined, and it was mostly devoid of detail. I smiled, glad to see he had been drawing again. Turning to leave, I stepped into the living area as David was pulling off his shirt. He was already wearing his work pants, black denim and form-fitting, with the skirt he’d worn until now having been discarded, lying on the floor beside him.

The mesh shirt, lying next to the skirt on the floor, hadn’t covered up very much but it still obscured his fur a little. Now entirely uncovered, my eyes wandered along his form. His slim, lean figure built for agility and flexibility was attractive, to say the least. He was slender, elegant in frame and pattern. I watched the muscles shift and stretch beneath his fur with every movement, a reminder he wasn’t unfit. My smile faded slightly as his shirt fell over him, covering up that physique I had been admiring.

I looked him over, watching him tuck the pastel yellow work shirt into his pants. “Ready to go?” I asked, heading for the door.

“Not yet, I need my name tag, Kaleb will be pissed if I forget it again.” He answered, quickly scavenging in the top drawer for a moment. “Ow!” He yipped, whimpering as he pulled his hand from the drawer. I rushed over, closing the gap between the door and David in a heartbeat, taking hold of his wrist to look at his hand. The pad of his ring finger had been pricked, and a small amount of blood was coming out from the wound.

With his free hand, he reached into the drawer and grabbed at the offending object, lifting his nametag and holding it carefully. The pin that fastened it in place was sticking out, no doubt what had pricked his finger.

I looked to his finger sympathetically, leaning down and lifting his hand to gently lap at the wound. He winced at first, but relaxed and let me work, the very tip of my tongue gently brushing along the pad of his finger. I raised up, the taste of copper on my tongue from the spot of blood I’d cleaned off him and smiled. “Better?” I asked. He nodded, smiling at me.

“Yeah, better. Thanks, big guy.” He answered. I gave a soft growl of happiness; glad he was feeling better.

“Come on, let’s go then.” I suggested, and the pair of us made our way out of the apartment. He locked it behind him, and we made for the elevator.

The ride down was much the same as the ride up, with David idly dancing to the music as I tapped out a beat for him. At the bottom, we stepped out of the elevator and left the building, climbing into my truck once again. I fastened my seat belt in place and started the engine, waiting for David to fasten his own. When he had, I accelerated, driving from the parking lot onto the road. David only lived a couple of blocks from the café, and without a single traffic light to slow us down we made it there in less than a few minutes.

I pulled into the parking lot, unlocking the doors for a moment so David could get out. Instead of doing so, he turned to me while unfastening his seat belt. “Hey, why don’t you come in? I’ll get you a coffee and something to eat. As thanks!” He offered. I chuckled, still mostly satisfied from breakfast this morning.

“Davey, what do you need to thank me for? You already cooked breakfast for me, after all.” I reminded him, only for the caxy to scoff in return.

“You know that’s just part of the deal, mister. I stay the night, I cook breakfast. It’s just how the world works. But you drove me around so I wouldn’t get in trouble with Kaleb, and I wanna thank you for it.” He said with an almost commanding tone, like he wasn’t giving me a choice. Thinking about it, I supposed he really wasn’t. I sighed, shaking my head and smiling.

“Alright, alright, I’ll come in.”

The café was simple and elegant, with a forest green awning over a wooden door with a coffee cup carved into it. Stepping inside, I was assaulted by the scent of coffee, vanilla, chocolate, and various foods. There were several tables, and David pointed out a table near the front counter. I nodded my understanding, heading for it as he stepped behind the counter. Sitting at the table, I looked over in David’s direction. I watched him walk into the back room through the employee door, out of sight.

I smiled, picking up a menu and scanning it. They had a fair variety of choices, but nothing you wouldn’t expect at a place like this. Sandwiches, pasta, coffee, tea, a few soft drinks. The most out of the ordinary item on their menu was a personal sized pizza. I sat the menu down, deciding on my choice. While I waited for David to come back out, I let my eyes wander around the room. There were a few other patrons in the café, but not as many as I had expected given David’s stories of how crowded the place could get.

I could see a lynx, sitting at a table with a jaguar, and near the back corner sat a macaque by himself. It didn’t seem too popular at the moment, but I supposed that worked for me. I liked a crowd, but mostly just the kind that jumped around and did bad things on the dance floor. The stuffy, boring folks that sat in quiet cafés to relax weren’t people I had beef with, but they weren’t the kind of crowd I had interest in. I pulled out my phone, and opened one of my game apps, combining elements in sequence on the screen.

David came back a few minutes later, smiling. He skipped over to me and flipped open a notebook. “What can I get for you today, Mr. Trayson?” He asked, purring my name. I laughed, raising a brow.

“Easy, the whole waiter-flirting-with-customer thing might give people the wrong idea.” I replied, smirking at him. He just rolled his eyes and tapped the paper with his pencil, silently encouraging me to give my order. I glanced at the menu one more time to refresh my memory, already having forgotten what I’d settled on.

“I’ll take a footlong steak and cheese, double meat, and a large water.” I said, folding the menu up again and holding it up for him. He nodded, writing down the order and taking the menu.

“Great choice, we’ll get that out in two shakes of a badger’s tail~!” He giggled, skipping back to the back room. I returned my attention to the phone, casually swiping elements together on the screen. I sat back in my chair, resting the phone on the table and laying my head back against the headrest of the chair, closing my eyes.

I could smell food all around me, and even with breakfast this morning having been so nice, my stomach growled at the scent of meat, pasta, and pastries all around me. I thought about the sandwich being prepared in the back, my mouth beginning to water at the various smells. My phone buzzed, and as I glanced at the screen I saw a text from Trace. Trace was one of David’s best friends, and an ex of mine. We had remained uneasy friends for a while after the breakup, but these days it felt like we had never dated at all, even if we did joke about it.

He had sent me a picture. It was me, sitting in the café. I looked so bored, phone in hand and leaned back in my chair. I raised a brow, looking towards the window to see the man himself grinning like an idiot. I watched him walk into the café, making a beeline for my table. He sat down and gave me a look, one corner of his mouth turned up in a smirk. Trace was, for all intents and purposes, my best friend. David’s too, though their bond was of a different nature.

He was an ex-lover, to me, but one I still held a high respect for. I looked at him, taking in a quick glance. His reddish-brown hair was styled up in a fauxhawk, framed by his scruffy ears tipped in dark burgundy fur. My eyes wandered lower, his own piercing pools of yellow locked on mine intently. The dark burgundy fur of his muzzle had grown out a little since the last time I’d seen him. It gave him a more rugged appearance, and I had to admit he was starting to look more handsome than I did. The dark of his muzzle trailed along his throat, ending in a rounded point at the clavicle, contrasting sharply against the light greyish-brown, beige-like color of the rest of his fur.

He was wearing a plain black deep-cut V-neck tee shirt beneath his jacket, which was a simple white zip-up track jacket. I noticed a patch on the right breast pocket, a new addition. It was a black circle with a stylized silver S in the center. I couldn’t see below the table, but I’d seen him on his way in. He wore a pair of white track pants, matched to his jacket, and his old blue running shoes. Most of the time shoes were unnecessary, but in Trace’s life they were required. He spent his time running, making mad dashes across the city for one reason or another, and needed the extra padding and protection for his paws.

He waved a hand at me, one brow raised. “Hey man, I get that I’m fine, but you could stare a little less you know.” He said, snark dripping from every word. I chuckled, leaning back in my chair a little and nodding slowly.

“Yeah, yeah. Like I didn’t get enough eyefuls of you back in the day.” I retorted, earning a scoff from the fox.

“You mean back when we were fucking.” He grinned, his eyes never leaving mine. He was watching me like a hawk, his teeth visible through the barest gap in his lips. A challenge to meet him as an equal.

I bared my teeth idly, locking eyes with him properly in return and leaning forward over the table. “Yeah, back when I was rocking your world.” I smirked, fangs shining in the gentle light of the room. He leaned forward, arms on the table as he closed the gap between us.

“Oh, you were rocking mine? Who was calling whose name then, big guy?” He replied. I could feel myself losing the challenge and decided to stop holding back.

“Who was calling in to work three times a week for more?” I growled lightly, a playful sound. He moved closer, his muzzle inches from mine. I could feel his breath against the fur of my maw, the scent of fluoride and mint flooding my nose as he came dangerously close to me.

“Who was dropping everything to come by whenever I called out of work~?” He whispered and leaned back. I tried to reply but couldn’t. He had me. I shrugged, conceding. He laughed and nodded at me, finally breaking eye contact. “That’s what I thought. I had you so whipped. Still would, but, well, I always knew you were a tits guy. I figured you’d dip when I tossed mine.” He accused, a cocky smirk on his face. My expression drooped, ears dipping back a little as I averted my gaze. Our breakup had been messy, a lot of miscommunications and misconceptions. And I still wasn’t entirely over how I’d made him feel.

His expression softened immediately, and he lost the attitude he’d been giving since he walked in. He leaned over the table, putting a hand on my arm and locking eyes again. I instinctively avoided his gaze. He rubbed my arm gently, looking at me worriedly. “I’m sorry, Ryder. I didn’t mean to take it too far, I thought we were past all that.” He said softly. I nodded, a quick motion, ready to get past the subject. He sat back in his chair and kicked my shin a little, grabbing my attention to nod to the side.

I looked over, seeing David approach with my order and setting it on the table in front of me with a giggle. "One footlong steak and cheese, triple meat and double-down cheese!" He said proudly. I shook my head. He knew that wasn't my order, he never got an order wrong.

"I ordered-" He shushed me, smiling.

"I know, Rye. Double meat, but you seemed so down I just had to go and up the order a little! Aaaand..." He giggled, turning to hug Trace, even his tail curling around the fox. Trace seemed bigger, compared to David. He was around average height, but even average looked tall next to David.

"Yeah, yeah, how's it hangin' young'un?" Trace scoffed, hugging David back. The pair let go of each other and David pulled out his notepad again, tapping it with his pen excitedly.

"It's good, all good! Thanks for stopping by last night, by the way. I wish you could have stayed longer though, you didn't even get to see Ryder's set!" David said, pushing a menu to Trace, only to have it pushed back his way.

"Cup of coffee, mild, and a bottle of water for the road. And maybe a grilled cheese, could use something in my gut. I'd have stuck around longer, but I had to get to bed. Just got back from Gala, babysitting Moss for 'Vina, you get it."

Davina was David's twin sister. Names and fur aside, they were markedly different, and it had blown us all for a loop when we met Moss, the caxy she'd adopted a couple years back. Trace kept tabs on them, more than we did, and was always back and forth from Tylvin to Gala. Eight hundred miles, sixteen hundred a week. If he wasn't working two jobs, he'd never afford it. I rolled my eyes, shaking my head. I couldn't imagine why he'd spend so much on something like that instead of just moving out there, but I was sure he had his reasons.

"How they doin' anyway?" I asked, curious. "Last I heard, Moss was comin' back with you most weekends to watch you run." Trace simply laughed, nodding and gesturing towards the parking lot. I glanced out one of the windows to see a familiar teen caxy hunched against the window in Trace's car. Moss.

"You heard right. They're looking to train up, run with me now and then." David, distracted from his job by the conversation, suddenly perked up with a smile.

"Mossy is here, right now!?" He almost seemed to forget he was on the clock, about to dart out the door to go say hi. I grabbed his apron, stopping him in his tracks and chuckling to myself.

"You know they'll be 'round all weekend. C'mon, you're workin'. Keep that tail busy, or Kaleb'll have it mounted on the wall." I said warningly. David simply purred, his tail lifting just enough to notice the intent as he eyed me lasciviously.

"What if I want Kaleb to mount me on the wall?" He asked, giggling before taking off to give the cooks Trace's order. Trace and I shared a look before laughing.

"He's as lusty as ever, huh?" Trace asked. I nodded, looking back to the counter. I hadn't noticed before, but there was another worker at the counter, managing pick-up orders.

They were tall, and rather than the uniform David wore, the man at the counter was dressed in a form-fitting suit, royal purple. It bore intricate designs along the collar, and a silver chain hung from the inside of their coat, into the breast pocket on the outside. They were a snake, purple scales across their body, save for the light pink along the throat, palms, and brow ridges. Their eyes were fierce, focused, and an almost glowing fuchsia. The fur on the back of my neck stood on end when I looked into those eyes, and I felt a chill in my spine seeing more than I'd bargained for in them. Those eyes were dangerous, more so than the fangs in the snake's mouth were. I could feel it.

Trace kicked my shin again, gesturing to my food. I shook my head, clearing my thoughts. "Thanks, got a little distracted. So how's 'Vina doin'? Any big clients?" I asked. Trace shook his head, leaning back in his chair a little.

"Nah, lotta little'ns though. Bunch'a indie places asking for some professional exposure." He replied, closing his eyes and rocking in his chair.

"Lemme guess, she's happy to give'em some professional exposure long as they don't mind a little exposure after the shoot?" We shared a laugh, with Trace nodding a bit.

"Yep, sometimes during the shoot too if the client's in that line of work." He said with a grin.

We talked a little more, catching up more than anything, until his order came out. David brought it but didn't stick around to talk, hurrying to another table to get another order. Trace picked up his food and drink, and stood. "Was good seein' ya, you take care of that caxy of ours, got it? I'll kick your ass if that dude he's thinkin' of gets one over on'im on your watch." He warned. I believed him too. I nodded, waving at him.

"Will do, now go on, 'fore Moss wakes up out there and wonders where you are." I urged. Trace laughed, nodding and heading out the door. I watched him hop in his car, taking off seconds later.

I sat there, eating my food in the quiet, dull buzz of the shop, tuning out the other conversations, growling happily at the taste of my sandwich. I was about to finish it off when I heard the bell ding, the door to the café opening. With a glance up, my heart sank.

I recognized the ferret walking in. He'd always been a thorn in our side, mine and David's. Ever since junior high. He was wearing the same uniform David was, and he stormed through the employee door back towards where David was after collecting a couple of orders. I could smell the tension, the anger.

Jonas had come into work after all.

Author's Notes: Howdy! Finally finished editing, fixed a problem, and now I'm happy with it! Hope you all enjoy it~!

Tag List

@sparrowcraft @moremysteriesthantragedies @thetruearchmagos @a-scaly-troublemaker @that-one-enby-onyx @snakelovingnerd @the-chaotic-writer @leisoree @amerylise @profoundlyhauntedclaws @thefinalgoat @leisurelywingedlemon

#writeblr #relan #literature #fiction #modern fantasy #furry #anthro #anthropomorphic #TTC5 #Tylvinian Tales #CW suggestive

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