#Joel - the assistant

[theetherealbloom]

YOU'RE THE RISK, I'M GONNA TAKE IT

Summary: You help your boss, Joel Miller, buy flowers for his date. Or so you thought.

Paring: No Outbreak!Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings: FLUFF, SMUT, Light Angst, Reader Dislikes Roses (i also dislike them :P), Kissing, Cheesy, Crush, Grumpy Single Dad, Office/Workplace Romance, Assistant!Reader, Billionaire!Joel, CEO!Joel, Boss!Joel, She Falls First and He Falls Harder Trope, Grumpy/Sunshine Trope, Idiots-In-Love, Confessions, PWP (wrap it up ya’ll), Fingering, Power Imbalance, Pet Names, ‘Good Girl’, ‘Darlin’,

Word Count: 4.2k

A/N: SOOOO WE’VE ALL SEEN THAT PIC RIGHT???? FML, if I ever saw that man carrying flowers and gifting them to me, I would marry him right away. 

This is for @morallyinept Jett’s Flora & Fauna Writing Challenge for May! I was obviously inspired by the picture in the moodboard above and my love for Gracie Abram’s new song Risk! Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated, thank you all for reading and supporting my deluluness tehe.

Side note: I’m dyslexic and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and/or grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!

Song: Risk by Gracie Abrams

Main Masterlist

In the elegant floral shop, the scent of fresh blooms enveloped you as you stood beside your boss, Joel Miller, a man of many responsibilities and hidden depths. His piercing gaze fixed on a display of vibrant roses, seeking your opinion on a matter close to his heart - choosing the perfect flowers for a date.

Joel, a handsome billionaire with a company to run, a daughter to care for, and a brother to watch over, often sought your counsel on matters both personal and professional. Whether it was a crucial business decision or selecting a gift for Sarah's upcoming birthday, he valued your input more than he let on.

You studied the roses with a critical eye, your brows furrowing slightly as you considered the implications of his choice. "I think Lauren will love it," you finally offered, your voice tinged with a hint of reservation at the mention of Joel's recent romantic interest.

The name 'Lauren' left a bitter taste in your mouth, a woman who seemed more interested in Joel's wealth and status than in him as a person. You couldn't shake the feeling that she was using him for her own gain, and the thought of Joel falling for her facade made your stomach churn.

Joel's keen observation didn't miss the subtle shift in your demeanor. "Why are you makin' that face?" he questioned, his narrowed eyes fixed on you with a mix of curiosity and concern.

Your heart raced at being caught off guard, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "What face?" you attempted to deflect, but Joel saw through your facade with unnerving accuracy.

"The one you make when you don't like somethin'. You're scrunchin' your nose and everythin'," he pointed out, his gesture leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable.

Caught in his perceptive gaze, you struggled to find the right words, knowing that you couldn't deceive him. There was an unspoken connection between you, a bond that transcended the boundaries of employer and assistant, leaving you feeling both exhilarated and unnerved by his proximity.

Joel's expectant gaze bore into you, his hand resting casually on his hip as he awaited your response, a subtle sign of his contemplation or frustration. The air between you crackled with unspoken tension, a silent understanding passing between you as you navigated the delicate dance of honesty and restraint in your shared space.

You settled for the truth, pinching your lips as if you were thinking how to phrase the next few words, eventually meeting his brown eyes and saying, "I don't like roses." The words hung in the air, a confession that felt both liberating and terrifying.

Joel's eyebrows shot up in surprise, his expression a mix of curiosity and amusement. Before he could respond, you cut him off, rambling on in a nervous attempt to clarify your thoughts. "I know, I know, it's just... my preference. It's not that I don't find them pretty... I do. It's just, sometimes it feels like there's no thought into getting someone roses."

You really should shut up, but you couldn't stop, your words tumbling out in a rush. "That's not to say you're not like putting in the effort to get Lauren... roses or something. It's just there's a whole language to flowers and their meaning, and there's definitely more options than just a whole bouquet of roses."

The silence that followed was oppressive, Joel's eyes roaming all over your figure as if taking in every detail. You felt like you were going to vomit, because there was no way you had just told your boss that he wasn't being thoughtful as he was getting the bitch flowers.

"What d'you like then?" Joel's deep voice asked, his tone low and husky, sending a shiver down your spine. You took a moment to formulate an answer, your heart racing with anticipation.

"Red Peonies," you swallowed, the words feeling like a revelation.

"Why?" Joel asked, his eyes never leaving yours, and you swear he took a small step closer to you, the distance between you shrinking to almost nothing.

"Besides it representing love, it also represents passion, honour and respect," you explained, trying to sound calm despite the turmoil inside. "There's just something more to it, I guess."

The air was tense, Joel's gaze burning into you like a brand. You felt like you were drowning in the depths of his eyes, the silence between you a palpable thing. You knew you should look away, but you couldn't, your gaze locked onto his as if drawn by an unseen force.

The world around you melted away, leaving only the two of you, suspended in a moment of raw emotion. You knew that you had crossed a line, but you couldn't help the way you felt. The truth was out, and now you just had to face the consequences.

The sharp chime of a phone shattered the charged silence between you, pulling you both back to the reality of the moment. You reluctantly pulled out your phone, a sigh escaping your lips as you delivered the news. "Your 3 p.m. meeting with Bill and Frank is coming up. We should buy those roses and go—"

But before you could finish, Joel interjected, his voice firm yet tinged with a hint of reluctance. "We can come back for them later."

You blinked, momentarily caught off guard by his sudden change of heart. Quickly regaining your composure, you slipped back into your assistant mode. "I could have them delivered and—"

"Don't worry about it, darlin'," Joel cut you off, his deep Southern drawl sending a shiver down your spine. "Let's go to the damn meeting before Tess starts tellin' me off again."

Without another word, Joel strode towards the waiting car, the driver opening the door as you followed, slipping into the plush leather seat beside him. The tension in the air was palpable, the unspoken emotions between you thick enough to cut with a knife.

As the car pulled away from the curb, you found yourself acutely aware of Joel's presence, his warmth and the subtle scent of his cologne enveloping you. The silence stretched on, neither of you quite sure how to navigate the charged atmosphere that had settled over the two of you.

You stole a glance at Joel, his brow furrowed in thought, his fingers drumming a restless rhythm on the armrest. You longed to reach out, to bridge the gap that had suddenly opened between you, but the weight of your professional relationship held you back.

The drive to the office was a blur, the familiar sights and sounds of the city passing by in a haze as your mind raced with a thousand unspoken thoughts. When the car finally pulled to a stop, you both exited in silence, the weight of the unresolved tension hanging heavy in the air.

As you made your way through the bustling lobby, Joel's hand brushed against yours, sending a jolt of electricity through your body. You couldn't help but wonder if the touch was intentional, a silent acknowledgment of the connection that simmered beneath the surface.

But as you turned to leave, Joel's voice stopped you in your tracks. "Darlin'," he murmured, his eyes filled with a depth of emotion that took your breath away. "We need to talk."

Your heart pounded in your chest as you turned to face him, unsure of what could possibly be running through Joel's mind. The intensity of his gaze only added to the butterflies in your stomach, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of hope and trepidation at what he might say.

"What is it, Joel?" You asked, trying to keep your voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions inside you.

He took a step closer to you, his expression serious as he reached out and gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Your heart skipped a beat at his touch, and you couldn't help but lean into it.

"I can't ignore this any longer," Joel began, his voice low and full of raw emotion. "I've been trying to fight it, but I can't deny how I feel about you any longer."

Your breath caught in your throat as he spoke those words, a rush of emotions flooding through you. Could it be possible that Joel felt the same way about you? Or was this all just some cruel joke?

"Joel..." You started, but he cut you off with a shake of his head.

"No, let me finish," he said firmly. "Ever since I first laid eyes on you, I haven't been able to get you out of my head. And when we spent that night together at the charity event...I knew then that I had feelings for you."

You were speechless, unable to believe what was happening. You had harbored secret feelings for Joel for so long and never thought they would be reciprocated.

"I know there's the whole boss-assistant dynamic between us," Joel continued with a small self-deprecating smile. "But I can't let that hold me back from telling you how I feel."

A mix of emotions swirled inside you, and you couldn't help but feel torn. On one hand, you wanted to give into the feelings that had been building between you and Joel for so long. But on the other hand, the thought of risking your professional relationship and possibly even your job was a daunting prospect.

"Joel, I-I don't know what to say," you stammered, feeling overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment.

He reached out and took your hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze. "You don't have to say anything right now," he said softly. "I just needed to tell you how I feel."

Silence fell between you as you both stood there, lost in your own thoughts. You were torn between what your heart wanted and what your head was telling you was logical.

Finally, after what felt like hours, you gathered the courage to speak again. "Joel, I care about you too," you admitted quietly. "But there are so many complications..."

"I know," he said with a sad smile. "But we can figure it out together."

His words filled you with hope and warmth, but at the same time fear also crept in. You knew that pursuing a romantic relationship with Joel would be risky and could potentially cause problems at work.

Before either of you could say more, there was a knock on Joel's office door. Startled out of your reverie, you both turned to see Chelsea peeking her head inside.

"Hey guys, sorry to interrupt," she said apologetically. "But, Mr. Miller, we have that meeting with McKenna about the upcoming merger in 10 minutes."

After Chelsea left, Joel turned back to you, a hopeful expression on his face. "Can I see you later? Outside of work, I mean."

Your heart raced at the thought of spending more time with him outside of the office. You knew it was risky and could potentially cause problems, but the thrill of taking a chance with Joel was too enticing to resist.

"I'd like that...a lot," you replied, unable to stop a small smile from forming on your lips.

His face lit up at your response and he took a step closer towards you. "Can I kiss you?" he asked hesitantly.

You nodded eagerly. "Yes, please."

Without any hesitation, Joel leaned down and gently pressed his lips against yours. It was a gentle kiss at first, but quickly became more passionate as the chemistry between you two intensified. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as he deepened the kiss.

Eventually, the need for air forced you both to pull away. You gazed into each other's eyes, both panting slightly from the intensity of the moment.

"I should go," you said reluctantly.

Joel nodded and gave your hand one last squeeze before letting go. "I'll see you later then? I’ll meet you at your place.”

You smiled and nodded before heading out of his office. As you walked back to your own desk, your mind raced with thoughts of Joel and what this could all mean for your future.

Later that evening, as you heard a knock at your door, you couldn't help but feel excited and nervous. You had been thinking about Joel all day and now here he was, standing outside your door with a beautiful bouquet of peonies.

You quickly peeked through the door viewer, confirming that it was indeed Joel standing there. Your heart fluttered in your chest as you took a deep breath and opened the door.

"Hi Sweetheart," he said with his perfect smile, his dimple making an appearance on the left corner of his cheek.

"Hey," you replied with a bashful smile. "Come in."

Joel stepped inside, holding out the vase of peonies towards you. "I brought these for you," he said, his eyes sparkling with affection.

You took them from him and breathed in their sweet scent. "Oh, Joel, you remembered.”

"Anythin’ for you," Joel said with a small grin.

You couldn't help but feel touched by his thoughtfulness. "Thank you for remembering. They're beautiful. Thank you."

He shrugged nonchalantly before turning to take off his shoes. "So what should we do tonight? I can cook us dinner or we could go out somewhere if you prefer."

The idea of Joel cooking for you sounded wonderful, but at the same time, going out together also seemed like an exciting adventure.

"How about we have dinner here tonight and then we can go out tomorrow?" You suggested.

"That sounds perfect," Joel agreed with a smile.

As he prepared dinner in your kitchen, the two of you chatted comfortably about work and other random topics. It felt easy to talk to Joel and be around him, like it was just natural for the two of you to be together.

After enjoying a delicious dinner cooked by Joel (who turned out to be quite the chef), the two of you sat on your couch watching a movie. As the movie played on, you couldn't help but steal glances at Joel, his eyes intense as they flicked between the screen and your face. The air between you crackled with an unspoken tension, the soft glow of the TV casting shadows that danced across his features.

Joel shifted slightly, his arm brushing against yours and sending a shiver down your spine. You turned to him, your heart pounding in your chest, and found yourself caught in his gaze. Without a word, he leaned in closer, his lips hovering just inches from yours.

The world around you faded away as Joel's mouth finally met yours in a searing kiss. His hands roamed over your body, igniting a fire within you that threatened to consume everything in its path. Your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened, becoming more urgent, more desperate.

You melted into each other, lost in a haze of passion and desire. Clothes were shed in a frenzy of need, skin meeting skin in a symphony of sensation. Joel's touch was electric, sending sparks throughout your body and setting every nerve on fire.

As you lay intertwined on the couch, your breathing heavy and your bodies covered in a thin sheen of sweat, Joel's eyes searched yours intensely.

"I've wanted to do this for so long," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear.

You couldn't form words as he began trailing kisses down your neck, leaving a trail of fire in his wake. His hands explored every inch of your body, worshipping you with his touch.

"I want you," you finally managed to say, arching your back as he grazed his teeth along your collarbone.

With a growl, Joel lifted you up into his arms and carried you to the bedroom. 

He laid you down on the bed with a hunger in his eyes that sent shivers down your spine. His hands roamed over your body, tracing every curve and dip as if he was mapping out his favorite treasure. You moaned softly as his lips grazed over your skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

Joel's kisses grew more urgent, more demanding, igniting a primal need within you. You tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer as you whispered his name like a prayer. He captured your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue exploring every inch of your mouth with a fierce intensity that made your head spin.

He teased and tormented you with his touch, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. Your breath hitched as he plunged into you, filling you completely and setting your senses ablaze.

The rhythm between you grew frantic, fueled by a hunger that could not be satisfied. Every thrust brought you closer to the edge, your body yearning for his touch, craving the sweet release that only he could bring.

He whispered filthy words into your ear, his voice gruff and raw with desire. "You want it," he growled, "You need it." His fingers gripped your hips, guiding you onto his shaft with deliberate precision. You groaned, lost in the ecstasy of his touch, your body begging for more.

He kissed you fiercely, his tongue dueling with yours, their movements synchronized with the wild rhythm of their bodies. His hands roamed over your skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake, as he explored every inch of your body with a possessive possessiveness.

You moaned, writhing against him, your body trembling with need, your heart pounding in sync with the frantic beat of his, as he plunged deeper into you with each thrust. Your nails dug into his back, leaving crescent marks that would later serve as a reminder of this night.

His lips trailed down your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses as he nuzzled your collarbone, then your chest, and finally your nipples, which hardened under the gentle caress of his tongue. You arched your back, your body craving for more, as his hands cupped your breasts, kneading them with a ferocity that made you gasp.

As he continued to ravage your body, you could feel the heat building between your legs, a fiery ache that begged for relief. Your hips bucked against his, seeking that sweet release, the friction sending spears of pleasure through you. He groaned, his own arousal swelling, and he thrust harder, his hips meshing with yours.

His hands roamed your body, caressing your curves, leaving trails of electricity in their wake. You arched your back, your breasts thrusting forward, begging for his attention. He didn't disappoint, his mouth closing over one taut nipple, teeth gently scraping against the sensitive flesh, while his other hand trailed down your side, slipping between your legs.

Your breath hitched as his fingers found their mark, teasing your swollen folds, sending shivers of anticipation coursing through you. Your body trembled, desperate for his touch, for him to drown you in sensation. He obliged, his fingers delving deeper, slick with your arousal. 

The roughness of his touch against your sensitive skin became a symphony of pleasure, as he slid in and out, his rhythm perfect, his fingers working in unison with the movements of his hips. You could feel yourself nearing the edge, your body coiling tighter and tighter with each thrust.

“Fuck, c’mon darlin, be a good girl, give it to me,” He groaned, as he sensed your impending release and increased the speed of his fingers, sending you over the edge in a wave of pure ecstasy. Your back arched off the bed, your nails digging into his skin as you cried out his name. He followed you over, spilling into you with a guttural moan.

You collapsed onto the bed, spent and breathless, but he wasn't done with you yet. He rolled you onto your hands and knees, positioning himself behind you. You felt him smirk against your back before he slammed into you again, filling you up completely.

His pace was rougher now, more primal as he claimed your body as his own. You met each thrust eagerly, reveling in the raw passion that flowed between you.

He reached around to caress your clit, adding another layer of stimulation to the already mind-blowing experience. Your moans and cries filled the room as he drove you both to new heights of pleasure.

As you were both on the verge of climax once again, he flipped you over onto your back and plunged into you one final time. With one hand gripping your thigh and the other tangled in your hair, he pounded into you with an intensity that left you breathless.

When he finally let go and spilled inside of you for a second time, it was like a dam had burst within both of them. You clung to each other as waves of pleasure washed over you both until eventually subsiding.

You lay there tangled together in a sweaty mess, your limbs intertwined as you both fought to catch your breath. The air was thick with the scent of passion, the sheets clinging to your bodies in a sensual embrace. As the haze lifted from your minds and your heart rates slowly returned to normal, you looked up at him and smiled, your eyes shining with a mix of contentment and wonder.

"That was incredible," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath, as if speaking too loudly might shatter the delicate moment.

His lips curved into a satisfied grin, his gaze burning into you with a intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. "You're incredible," he replied, his voice husky with desire, the words caressing your skin like a lover's touch.

You both lay there for a while, basking in the afterglow of your intense lovemaking. The sheets were tangled around the two of you, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was the feeling of being intertwined with him, your bodies still connected in an intimate embrace.

A part of you couldn't help but feel a twinge of apprehension, a nagging voice in the back of your mind warning you that this was uncharted territory. You were jumping headfirst into the deep end, and the risk of drowning was ever-present. But as you gazed into his eyes, the warmth and affection you saw there quelled your fears, replacing them with a sense of exhilaration and anticipation.

"I can't believe this is happening," you murmured, your fingers tracing the contours of his face, as if to reassure yourself that this was real. "I never thought we'd end up here, but I'm so glad we did."

He chuckled, the deep rumble of his laughter sending a shiver of delight through you. "Darlin', you have no idea how long I've been waitin' for this," he confessed, his hand caressing your cheek with a tenderness that belied the passion that had just consumed them.

You felt a surge of emotion welling up inside you, a mix of joy, trepidation, and a deep, abiding love that threatened to overwhelm you. "I'm scared," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "But I'm also so excited to see where this takes us."

His expression softened, and he pulled you closer, his lips brushing against yours in a gentle, reassuring kiss. "I'm here, darlin'," he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. "We'll figure it out, together."

As you lost yourself in the warmth of his embrace, you knew that no matter the challenges, you would face them side by side. The risk of drowning may have been ever-present, but with him by your side, you were ready to dive in, to explore the depths of this newfound love and see where it would take you.

[bearsbeetsbeskar]

Restoring the Roots (Joel Miller x Therapist! reader)

Chapter 1: Pre-Contemplation

Chapter 2 here | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | main masterlist |

Pairing: Joel Miller x therapist! reader, post outbreak Rating: none, will be changed to explicit in future chapters (slow burn, eventual smut, age gap) Summary: Life after moving to Jackson looks drastically different for Joel, survival mode is over and now he and Ellie can finally put down new roots. Ellie adapts easily but Joel finds himself struggling to settle into this new life, in more ways than some. At Ellie and Tommy’s insistence, Joel begrudgingly finds himself in therapy to try and work through his struggles but what he encounters is more than just painful memories and deeply rooted trauma. A/N: I cannot say enough thank you's to the number of lovely humans who encouraged this idea and supported me as I embark on my very first fic! And what better Pedro character to be the guinea pig for this idea? Lots of this story draws on my personal knowledge as a social worker, as I am working towards becoming a certified equine assisted therapist. Consequently, there are lots of horsey terms, therapy terms, and vivid descriptions of trauma at certain points. Feel free like, comment, or reblog if you enjoy it :)

Taglist (for now): @beskarandblasters, @pr0ximamidnight, @theewokingdead, @atinylittlepain, @prolix-yuy, @swiftispunk, @harriedandharassed, @amywritesthings

If anyone wants to be on the taglist please let me know! If you don't want to be on it then also let me know lol.

~~~~~~~

You sat up taller in your chair, arching your back and rolling your shoulders in an effort to stretch out your spine, exhaling softly as you heard the cacophony of crunches and protests from your muscles. You had been hunched over your notepad for over an hour, eyebrows scrunched together and your mind running on autopilot, as you caught up on client notes that you had fallen behind on for the last couple days. The downside of having a small therapy practice, hell any therapy practice, was that there was a never ending litany of documentation to fill out. Seeing as you were the only therapist in the tiny commune of Jackson, there was never a shortage of clients and consequently, never a shortage of session notes that you had to write. 

“Hun.”

You hear your name spoken in a warm tone from behind you. You barely look up from the page as you try to rewrite the word ‘diagnosis’ after what feels like the fifth time. The word has basically lost all its meaning at this point. 

“Honey, c’mon, the sun is about ready to set and you can wrap that up tomorrow.” The cover page to the notepad closes on top of your hand and you look up to see your assistant, Tracey, giving you a knowing look and then glancing towards the front of the office. You follow her gaze to the front windows and take in the deep ember orange hue washing over the business faces and windows on the opposite side of the street, signaling the end of another day. Sighing softly, you lean back in your chair and cross your arms over your chest with a frown. You know she’s right and yet you still have the same dispute every day. 

“Trace, you and I both know that if I don’t get them done today, they will just be added to tomorrow’s to do list, besides this is the last one I swear,” you say to her with a smirk, as if she has not heard that excuse before. 

You were never the kind of person to half-ass your responsibilities at your job, including client documentation, even if there was no longer any governing body or association to uphold professional social work standards. You did your job with integrity, even the mundane administrative tasks that involved more writing than actual talking with clients. Tracey knew this of course, it was something she admired about you, how suited you were for this line of work. It was clear that you cared deeply for the clients that you supported. But it doesn’t mean it was not a fight when the end of the workday rolled around and she had to tear you away from your desk and practically shove you out of the office door. 

She rolled her eyes at you and her lips curled into a small smile as she headed towards the door with her coat and bag in tow. “Promise me you will at least be out of here before the night patrol starts?” She points her finger at you as she stops just ahead of the door. You nod and wave her off as you turn your focus back to the notepad, smoothing your palm over the words etched into the cover ‘Restorative Reins.’ 

You had only been in Jackson for roughly over a month, though it felt like much longer. Much like everyone else who had survived the outbreak and came to find refuge in the small settlement after the world went to shit, you were grateful to accept any basic decencies of normal life that were afforded to you. Warm meals, warm showers, hell running water in general was a miracle in and of itself at that point. So when you actually arrived in Jackson, you were dumbfounded to see how much normalcy surrounded you. Children running and playing in the streets, storefronts of various thriving businesses, sheep being rounded up in a nearby corral - hold on, a fucking MOVIE THEATER? 

While it took some time to grow out of the perpetual fight or flight mode that you were entrenched in from life on the road, you did eventually fall into a good pace in Jackson. Especially after getting involved in the community and taking up the job as the local therapist, you had never been busier, and you loved it. 

The world felt unflinchingly obsolete post outbreak, but being able to support others with their mental health never failed to bring you joy and an unshakeable sense of purpose. You wanted to help others as they navigated their pain and broke down the mental blocks that entrapped them in their trauma. You wanted to help them realize the innate strength that they possessed. Sadly, you never got the chance to practice long term, as you finished up grad school just before the outbreak happened. But that didn’t seem to matter now as you had an endless stream of community members that you saw on a weekly basis at your practice, all with their own pain and struggles, seeking support.

It was crazy to think about the short period of time that had passed since you started at the job, how much you had done for the residents, how much more that you wanted to do. You were pulled from your memories when the office phone rang, internally groaning as you looked at your watch.

4:58 p.m. Of course. 

Steeling yourself you picked up the phone, praying that it was a quick call.

“Restorative Reins Practice, how can I help you?” you answered.

“Oh! hi ma'am,” a warm, mellow Southern drawl greets you on the other end. “Are you the local therapist that has been helpin’ folks out around here with their mental health?”

"That's me,” you reply warmly, “what can I do for you?”

The man hesitates briefly, “Well, I was uh wanting to know a bit more about the business I guess, how the therapy process works, fees and stuff for someone who was interested in getting help. Not me though, it’s not for me, it’s for my brother, Joel. My name is Tommy by the way,” he mentions quickly. 

“No problem Tommy, I can explain the basics to you including the different types of therapy I offer and how the process works,” you reassure him. You explain to him the different services, how the equine therapy worked, walk in hours, session lengths and so on. 

“I should probably mention that my brother ain’t keen on getting help and reaching out to others when he needs it, he’s too damn proud to acknowledge it, so he really doesn’t think he has any issues and thinks everything is fine… but he’s having a real tough time settlin’ down here. He’s so haunted by his past and he’s been acting differently lately, more temperamental, well, more than usual,” Tommy adds. You smile to yourself and nod, as you’ve had many clients before who were stuck in similar struggles and closed off to therapy initially.

“I can definitely understand that,” you sympathize with him. “It sounds like your brother has been through a lot and you just want him to get some support, which is great. Therapy isn’t for everybody but I have worked with many individuals like him who were going through similar situations, and they found great success.”

“That’s great to hear. That’s all I want for him is to get some help,” Tommy states.

“Now with that being said,” you continue, “therapy is voluntary, I cannot force someone to attend, but if your brother would agree to a consultation with me, I could chat with him more about where he is at, the kind of support he could benefit from and go from there. No pressure to commit to anything,” you propose to him.

“Hmm, I think he could be persuaded to try that, now that you mention it like that,” Tommy chuckles, sounding pleasantly surprised. 

“Awesome! You can tell him to stop by the office any time and we can discuss it more. We’re open from 9-5,” you tell him, silently relieved that it was an indeed quick call. He thanks you and hangs up. 

Something else akin to curiosity creeps into your mind as you recount what Tommy briefly told you about his brother. Maybe more so intrigue. You wonder how resistant he is to therapy, what happened in his past to hurt him so deeply, but you catch yourself before your thoughts run away from you further, either way you look forward to helping another person in need. 

~~~~~~~~~~~

“Tommy, I swear to god if you bring up this damn therapy shit again, I won’t hesitate to shoot you next time we’re out on patrol,” Joel growled through clenched teeth, as he walked away from his brother into the kitchen of the house. 

“Boy, it ain’t like I never heard that before,” Tommy quipped sarcastically, rolling his eyes as he followed Joel into the kitchen, pausing in the doorway as he leaned against the frame, hands shoved into his pockets. He observed his brother's rigid stance, the tightness in his shoulders, as Joel stood over the sink, looking out the window. 

This felt like the umpteenth time that Tommy had broached the subject of Joel getting help and talking to a ‘shrink,’ as he dismissively described it, for the issues that he was struggling with. Joel was fine. He didn’t have any fucking issues. He was doing just fine and didn’t need some professional to scrutinize him, reduce him to his vices, and open old wounds from his past life. He was encouraged to go to grief counseling after Sarah died but by some grace of God, or whatever godforsaken omnipotent entity existed at that point, the outbreak occurred. Forget mental health, physical health and survival became the only focus.

Tommy exhaled softly. “Listen, I'm only suggestin’ it because I care about you. Ellie cares about you. You both have been through hell and back in the last year, I mean shit, we all have. But it seems like everything y’all went through is still affecting you, holding you back from letting your guard down and settling in here,” he states plainly, sadness lacing his tone. 

“That’s bullshit Tommy and you know it,” Joel snaps, turning to face his younger brother and leaning back against the counter, arms crossed in defense. His gaze narrows.  “I go out on patrol don’t I? Pick up extra shifts wherever it’s needed, help out with the contracting jobs, go out with Ellie in town.” Joel stood up taller, puffing out his chest, challenging his younger brother. Tommy shook his head, running his hand over his face with an exasperated expression. Heaven forbid Joel did anything for himself that did not involve contributing or providing for someone, period. He just couldn’t shake that from his identity, and it broke Tommy’s heart as he watched his brother’s stubborn pride, ridden with guilt and trauma, swallow him whole. 

“Man when are you gonna fuckin’ do something for yourself Joel?!” Tommy asserted, his frustration reaching a boiling point. “Forget the damn commune, forget the community, forget Ellie for a sec and think about the last time YOU did something for yourself, the last time YOU reached out for help goddamnit.” He pushed off the doorframe and crossed the threshold of the kitchen as he strode towards Joel.

“You’re not on the run anymore brother. You don’t have to just survive. You can have a life here. You can sleep without keepin’ one eye open and relax without lookin’ over your shoulder. Don’t you want that? Don’t you think you deserve that?! Don’t you think you deserve this?!” Tommy said as he gestured around the cozy kitchen and fixed his older brother with a pleading stare. 

Joel’s eyes widened as he tried to step back, the edge of the counter biting into his lower back as he took in Tommy’s weary face, the pain in his soft brown eyes, mirroring his own. His younger brother rarely raised his voice anymore. The outbreak took its toll on his hot headed temperament that never seemed to simmer down, even after he was discharged from the army. Joel knew that Tommy cared about him, hell he knew how deeply his brother loved him, after all they had respectively been through in the last twenty years, it had to be serious for him to raise his voice. 

Joel opened his mouth, ready to bite back but his brother raised his hands in the air in surrender, “Look, this is the last time I will bring this up, I swear. But yesterday I called up the therapist in town who’s been helpin’ folks out, and asked her about the therapy process and she seems real nice, and supportive. She said you could come in for a consultation and talk to her and see if you’re interested,” Tommy said quietly.

Joel’s gaze narrows as he scrunches his eyebrows together in incredulity, “You-”

“I had nothing to lose Joel. Absolutely nothing. And neither do you,” Tommy cuts him off, raising his chin in defiance. “At least go talk to the therapist, if you don’t like her or you’re not feelin’ it, then I’ll drop it and let it go. Okay? The office is on the main street, just beside the clothing store, adjacent to the stables and they’re open everyday from 9-5.” 

“Jesus fucking Christ Tommy,” Joel leaned back as he looked up at the ceiling, wishing it would collapse in on him. Gotta love that brotherly love.  

“Look I should be getting back now, Maria will be waiting for me. Here’s the number and address for the business. I’ll see you around okay?” Tommy patted through his pockets and retrieved a small piece of paper with writing scribbled on it, placing it on the counter beside Joel. He gave him a last placating look before he walked out of the kitchen, the front door closing behind him with a soft click. 

Joel pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled sharply before turning back around to look out the kitchen window. He hung his head in defeat, rounding his back as he rested his elbows on the counter and glared into his matte reflection in the sink. He didn’t need any help. He was doing fine. He’s still upright and breathing, with blood coursing through his veins isn’t he? Albeit, he's not jumping out of bed like a sprightly thirty year old anymore. His knees pop and crackle when he gets up from crouching over machinery for too long, his joints protest the next day when he pushes himself too far, moving slower than usual on job sites. 

Hell, even his memory is starting to get cloudy around the edges. If it weren’t for Ellie some days, he’s sure he would leave the house without pants on, what with her always reminding him where things are in the house, special events that are coming up in the community that he forgets about. He had been a bit more snappy than usual, as Ellie so lovingly pointed out one day, but that’s nothing compared to his normal demeanour. 

“You’re becoming a grumpy motherfucker y'know that? Jeez, who shit in your cornflakes this morning?” She grumbled at him with a mouth full of cereal, after he snapped at her reminder that it was parent day at the local school. Parent day, P.A. day, Joel hadn’t dealt with any of this shit in over twenty years since Sarah was in school. Even then he managed to swiftly neglect many of the parental events, seeing as Sarah was the perfect student, with nothing but glowing reviews from her teachers. The fact that Ellie was going to school amidst a fucking apocalypse was enough for Joel to be content. 

But still, he’s doing fine, right? Just fine. 

“Maybe talking to someone that’s not related to you would help you, y’know? Being able to talk about shit that you can’t talk to me, or Tommy, or anyone else about you know?” Ellie proposed to him later that night.

As luck would have it, she was already home when Joel and Tommy spoke in the kitchen and she had heard pretty much the entire conversation. And like Tommy, she only wanted Joel to get support because she cared about him. 

“Think of all the shit that we went through in the past year, forget the infected, and the raiders, and FEDRA, and almost dying,” she casually listed off on one hand as if she was reciting a grocery list.

“There's so much shit that we’re both carrying with us, demons from our past, and it’s gotta come out one way or another. Look, therapists aren’t there to judge you, or analyze you,” she continued, “they’re kind of like a sounding board for you to bounce your thoughts off of, and they help you process shit you’re going through. You never know unless you try it,” she said matter of factly. 

“Like Tommy said, you got nothing to lose man. Plus the whiskey and pills will only help you numb reality for so long, you’re gonna go insane eventually,” she said, fixing him with a knowing look as she leaned back into the couch beside him.

Joel just grunted in response and frowned. Damn this kid for being too insightful for her own good.

Ellie might be young but she most certainly wasn’t naive. And as much as Joel would have liked to assume that her easy transition into life in Jackson was on account of her youthfulness, it really wasn’t. It was just the fact that she had never known a normal life, as heartbreaking as that was. She never had the chance to experience such normalcy before everything turned on its head. But she developed friendships with a few of the other teens in the community, namely one girl Dina, who she hung out with after school, went to the movies and other community events with.

She didn’t have to actively try to fit into Jackson, she just did. Joel would never acknowledge the pangs of jealousy he felt gnawing at his insides when he saw her getting on so well, but it didn’t mean they chipped away at his morale any less. 

Ellie smirked at his lack of response, knowing he was mulling it over in his mind. With the relationship they had developed over the past year, she was grateful to be able to talk to Joel and actually get through to him.

“Damn maybe I should be a fuckin’ therapist, that was good advice wasn’t it?” she grinned at him, elbowing him in his side.

Joel snorted and shook his head. “Christ, I must be losing my mind for real this time if you’ve got me considering it.”

“Now c’mon,” she wiggled her eyebrows at him, “you owe me at least a few games of Boggle for that pep talk,” she said triumphantly, holding up the weathered board game that was on the coffee table.

[daily-bdoubleo]

[Day 29] Hermitaday - Joel Smallishbeans! Just two guys thinkin about their favorite person (who they’re both completely normal about. Trust.)

Don’t ask me what they’re sitting on. I think they are beanbags. I realized I posed them sitting as I was doing final touches so I just eh and made a blob

[edwin-m-stanton]

When you are out on hold and now you can relate to the HCP.

[joelsfarabee]

another frosty goal??? and our second ppg??? we’re so back

[malusrecord]

@coolrpblog @constellationcrowned @magioffire @kllsworn

[jcamilov06]

Tyrese Maxey vs. Los Angeles Lakers | November 27th, 2023

[mariatesstruther]

sarah putting on concerts at home as a kid except she deems herself the stage manager instead of the talent. she uses one of tommy’s old gaming headsets and one of joel’s clipboards from work, and she uses them to run a tight ship so everybody better listen!!!!!

[carcarrot]

him: you better not be cunty joel grey from the patrick stewart version of a christmas carol when i get there

me:

[lspiritomb]

anyone else wish there was an official ENA virtual assistant where you could choose which character is your friend

[bearsbeetsbeskar]

Restoring the Roots (Joel Miller x Therapist! reader)

Chapter 2: Contemplation

Chapter 1 | Chapter 3

Pairing: Joel Miller x therapist! reader, post outbreak

Rating: none, will be changed to explicit in future chapters (slow burn, eventual smut, age gap), swearing in this chapter

Summary: Life after moving to Jackson looks drastically different for Joel. Survival mode is over and now he and Ellie can finally put down new roots. Ellie adapts easily but Joel finds himself struggling to settle into this new life, in more ways than some. At Ellie and Tommy’s insistence, Joel begrudgingly finds himself in therapy to try and work through his struggles but what he encounters is more than just painful memories and deeply rooted trauma.

A/N: Thank you for the feedback on chapter 1! I am so excited that everyone is excited to see Joel and reader finally interact! Our poor sweet grumpy old man, he just needs some loving and healing!

Joel squinted slightly as he glanced up at the broad, slightly faded letters that read ‘Restorative Reins,’ as he stood in front of the office. He had been standing in front of the building for a good couple minutes, chewing on the inside of his cheek as people strolled past him while he contemplated his fate.

Therapy. 

Even as he mulled over the word in his mind his spine stiffened and he clenched his jaw, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. Therapy was only for folks with legitimate mental problems, that’s the way he saw it. You spoke to a shrink for your problems, cried into a box of tissues while laying on a couch, and were given some highfalutin advice along with a prescription slip. Either that or you ended up in the cookie bin.

Joel never thought long and hard enough about his mental health. Back in the day, before the outbreak, he could lose himself in a six pack of Lone Star, hit up a few of his buddies for a poker game, or rub one out in the shower to get rid of the tension, if all else failed. If he really wanted to, he could talk to Sarah about certain things on his mind. Needing to speak to someone who was a professional, to open up about your vulnerabilities, let alone seek advice, was a bewildering thought to Joel. Why talk to someone when he is usually able to deal with things on his own?

He hears Tommy’s pleas in his head, his desperation. And Ellie’s words too. The conviction with which they spoke about him getting help and actually taking care of himself. You never know unless you try it.

“Nothin’ to lose,” he mutters to himself. 

Steeling himself, he took a deep breath and walked up to the door, stepping into the small office. It was pretty cozy, almost too cozy, as if he stepped into someone’s living room. There’s a worn leather couch up against the front window and a loveseat against the wall adjacent to it, with a few blankets and cushions arranged on top, a small coffee table in between them. The walls are a soft sky blue and potted plants cover almost every surface imaginable. Surprisingly there aren’t any motivational posters on the walls, feigning false positivity and encouragement, somewhat reminding him of the ‘Live, Laugh, Love’ signs that Sarah used to have in her bedroom. 

One thing Joel does appreciate is the photos speckled across the office walls in various frames and sizes, most of them of animals such horses, dogs, sheep, and landscapes of different scenery. What looks to be an empty receptionist desk is tucked away in the back corner, besides a closed door that presumably leads to other rooms.

He steps further into the office, moving closer to a particular picture of a striking chestnut horse with a white blaze that runs from his forelock down to his nose. Huh. He looks familiar. Taking a step back and appraising all the other shots, Joel realizes these are all animals within the settlement. The horse he recognizes is Callum, one of the horses Joel has actually ridden while out on patrol. The realization softens his gaze, and he relaxes his body a bit, warming up to the fact that this therapist is an animal lover. Maybe not a totally crazy shrink after all, he concludes. 

He nearly jumps out of his skin when he hears the knob to the back door of the office turning, as it swings open and a young woman strides through into the office. 

“Hi there! Sorry to keep you waiting, are you here for a session?” The woman asks with a warm smile.

Any sense of false confidence he thought he had built up, dissipates immediately from Joel’s system as he takes you in.

You’re young. Much younger than what he expected.

Weren’t shrinks older? Middle aged? Like doctors? You couldn’t be more than thirty-five. You also did not look like a professional therapist, what with your flannel button up, jeans that hugged your curves, and combat boots, your hair pulled into a braid. It shouldn’t matter really, business casual was dead and gone, but Joel would be lying if he said he wasn’t very appreciative that you leaned towards the casual side. Either way you definitely didn’t look like a shrink, as his gaze swept up and down your body.  

His brain might as well be covered in molasses as he barely recalls the question you asked him.

“Uh, a session?” he repeats, drawing his eyebrows together.

“Yes, a therapy session?” You look at him expectantly, tilting your head slightly at his confusion. 

Joel felt his heart stutter as he met your bright eyes. What did you say?

Shit. Right. He cursed himself internally as he shook his head, attempting to clear his throat. 

“Uhm, I- no sorry. I uh, I’m not a client. I was told to come by to see uh, what kind of services you offered and get a consultation of sorts. My brother referred me to your office… he thinks I need some uhm, some kinda help.” Joel stammers, as he digs his nails into his palms and looks at the ground.

Fuck, this is stupid. Damn Tommy. He should just apologize, turn around and walk out the door, everything in his body telling him to run.

You raised your eyebrows as a look of recognition spreads across your face and you flash a huge smile at him, introducing yourself.

“Oh yes! You must be Joel right? I spoke to your brother Tommy yesterday. He mentioned that you might be looking for some support?” 

Joel was shook. He expected you to give him a disapproving or hesitant look of recognition. Despite only being in Jackson for about a month, news had traveled fast through the commune. Joel knew that many of the residents already knew about him, they had heard the stories. Tommy Miller’s ruthless, cold big brother, who had trekked across the country, while killing more people with his bare hands than he could count. Infected or not infected. He had a reputation. Another one of the reasons he saw no point in sharing his concerns with a total stranger, regardless of whether or not you were a professional. But you still had this warm, attentive expression on your face.

“Yeah. I’m not sure how much he told you, or what exactly he said, my brother likes to put his nose in other peoples’ business sometimes,” he rambled on, running a hand through his hair, “but I guess I wanted to know how it all works. How the therapy works, y’know.” He makes a dismissive gesture with his hand.

“No problem at all.” You gestured to the couch for him to sit and you sat in the loveseat to the side.

“I suppose I should lay down while I’m pouring my heart out to you huh?” he asked as he hesitantly sunk down into the beat up leather, eyes darting to you nervously.

“Well, if you prefer to, then you certainly can, but it’s not necessary,’ you chuckled. "Sessions look a bit different here at the practice”.

You lean back in the seat and cross your legs, resting your hands in your lap, while appraising his tense figure. After a minute you break the silence, “can I ask, what do you know about therapy?”

Joel exhaled shakily, his heart pounding in his ears. Maybe this was a bad idea. He didn’t want to insult you by sharing what he really thought about therapy (that it was baloney), but he also didn’t want to be judged for having an abysmal perspective of mental health. He sat hunched over on the couch and bounced his right leg, anxiety consuming him.

Seeing him start to mentally backtrack you reassured him. “There’s absolutely no true right or wrong answer by the way. Just tell me what you think of when you picture therapy.” You gave him a soft smile and leaned to the side, resting on the arm of the chair. 

“Well uh,” he clears his throat.

Fuck, he just needed to get it out. Joel sighed deeply, running his hand over his face in an attempt to wipe away his embarrassment.  

“Honestly, I don’t know much about it, save for what I’ve seen on TV where you lay down on a couch, cry your eyes out to a shrink about your problems and then they hand you a prescription for pills. I’ve known a few people in the past who saw a therapist and they said it helped them ... but I just thought it was a bunch of bullshit truthfully.”

His eyes widen, and he looks at you immediately after realizing what he just admitted.

“Shit - I mean, I didn’t mean it like that, I just meant that it seems a bit pretentious. That sounds bad too.” He groans. “Shit. I’m sorry, I’m just not good at this,” he says, gesturing haphazardly between you both. 

Lord, can the ground open up and swallow him whole already? This is excruciating enough as it is. 

Joel looks at you pensively, waiting to see your reaction, waiting to see the shock or disappointment spread across your face at his words. But it doesn’t happen. Your gaze is fixed on him intently, as you watch his facial features, and nod along sympathetically. It’s surprising, and also off putting. He’s never had someone listen to him so attentively and maintain eye contact for so long, without showing any judgment. 

After a moment you shake your head and laugh softly.

“It’s okay Joel, everyone has their own definition of what therapy looks like, and what reaching out for support looks like. Like I said, there’s no right or wrong answer. Many people claim to not be good at this,” you respond, while mimicking his gesture between you two, “but if you can believe it, therapy is less about the talking, and more about doing. More about processing and taking the steps to heal.”

He nods as you explain more, sitting deeper and relaxing into the couch as the tension slowly leaves his body. 

“In a nutshell, I do provide talk therapy where I sit down with clients like this, and we discuss what they’re dealing with, talk through their concerns, and we come up with strategies together to help them navigate their situations. The sessions are an hour long. Some sessions are to vent and process emotions, others are to follow up on homework or strategies we devised, and others are to simply talk about whatever is on your mind.” 

You smirk as he raises his eyebrows when you mention homework, and you raise your hand in defense. “Again it looks different for everyone, there are no concrete rules or methods to follow.”

“The other type of therapy I do is equine assisted therapy,” you explain to him. “It’s an experiential type of therapy, which basically means the client experiences the effects of therapy by physically participating in activities with horses. You learn by doing and observing, not just talking,” you wink at him, reassuring his previous claims. 

“The horse acts as a therapy partner, and you complete different exercises with them, and we process the interactions that occur between you and the horse during the session,” you continue explaining.

Joel tilts his head slightly and considers it. “Huh, that sounds pretty cool actually.” 

He’s always loved animals, including horses. There’s just something innately calming about them. When you look them in the eyes, it makes you feel like they can see into your soul. He thought about it, realizing he actually did look forward to going out on patrol on his assigned nights and getting the horses tacked up. Nothing really compared to riding out onto the stretch of green plains, bordered by the massive mountains that painted Jackson's landscape, with the calming lull of their hoofbeats against the dirt. It was probably the only thing he really enjoyed about Jackson, as it gave his mind a break from the turmoil that consumed it most days. Other than scouting for infected or other threats, he could just ramble to his four legged partner about anything and everything, without needing a response.  

“It really is!” You grin emphatically at him, as you feel the passion buzzing through your body.

You sit up in your seat and lean forward, resting your elbows on your knees. “Horses are herd animals, and by nature they are very intuitive creatures, they act and live in the moment, not the past or the future. Consequently, they are very attuned to nonverbal communication, body language, and they can sense your emotions before you even realize it. They make great therapy partners, not just because of their gentle nature, but they also act as a mirror to our behaviors, and above all, they never judge you,” you babble excitedly, your eyes lit up.

Joel looks at you with wonderment, a fuzzy sort of warmth spreading through his body, as he sees your excitement and passion shine through. Normally it would be off putting to see someone so excited and energetic like this, but it was clear that you loved this job, and you cared deeply about supporting others. It made him fucking melt. 

“You make it sound pretty damn good, it doesn’t even sound like therapy,” he chuckled and you nodded in response. 

“It really doesn’t honestly. I’ve worked with individuals who have seen so many horrors and experienced unimaginable trauma, and in just a few sessions of working with the horses, they find healing, they find hope, and they look forward to coming in. They say it just feels like having fun with the horses,” you say fondly.

“I didn’t know it could be that impactful, but that’s pretty incredible,” he says in awe. He pauses for a moment as he looks away, then back at you, as he fiddles with his hands, picking at the skin around his nails.

Fuck. Is he really gonna do this? It almost sounded too good to be true.

“So, what would the next step be in the process?” he queries. “Do I need to sign any forms or anything?” He asks, his nerves ramping up as he feels his palms get sweaty.

You give him another dazzling smile that lights up your whole face and Joel swears that he turns to mush on the spot.

“No forms needed for now. Why don’t you come out to the stables and we’ll start with meeting the herd. Does Thursday morning work for you?”

“Yeah that sounds good.” He smiled back.

“How are you feeling after everything we talked about?” You asked, looking at him with those wide bright eyes.

Again with that attentive focus on him. Fuck.

He didn’t know if he would ever get used to that, as he squirmed under your gaze. He paused again for a moment, as he reflected internally. He actually felt pretty fucking good, for once. Surprisingly relaxed. He appreciated your lack of judgment and professional demeanour, your warmth and calm nature putting him at ease. It didn’t help that you were damn gorgeous and compassionate, he really didn’t need that much convincing from you. And he was actually excited at the idea of equine therapy, which didn’t actually seem like therapy. 

Damn Tommy and Ellie for being fucking right.

“I actually feel pretty good,” he remarked in disbelief, as a small smile tugged at his lips. “What do I owe ya for this consultation then?”

You beamed at his response. “Consider it a meet and greet Joel,” you said. “Consultations are only usually about 20 to 30 minutes, but seeing as it is your first time seeking therapy, I don’t charge anything.”

He glanced at the clock on the back wall of the office, noticing that you had been talking for damn near an hour.

Shit. Was it really that long? 

He opened his mouth to protest but you quickly cut him off. “I’m serious Joel, I won’t let you pay,” with a stern look that slowly morphed into a smirk. “I’ll see you Thursday at the stables, let's say 10 am. Okay?”

“Alright,” he lamented with a boyish grin. You both got up as you walked him towards the door and he turned back to face you.

He looked down at you, taking a deep inhale as he bit his lip. “It was real nice meeting you, and thank you… for the meet and greet,” he smiled, his dimple peeking through his right cheek. “I’ll see you on Thursday.” 

Taglist:

@beskarandblasters, @pr0ximamidnight, @theewokingdead, @atinylittlepain, @prolix-yuy, @swiftispunk, @harriedandharassed, @amywritesthings, @atinylittlepain, @missgurrl, @silkiers, @jasminedragoon, @mayasopinions, @pedgeitopascal, @elegantduckturtle, @sarahhxx03, @Snow30285, @gracie7209, @stevieboyharrington, @kirsteng42, @pedrit0-pascalit0, @loquaciousferret, @axshadows, @a-sh-lyn, @dotcie, @tightjeansjavi, @dreamingofdaddydin, @pedritosdarling, @lhymer1995, @nerdreader, @suzmagine, @like-a-dirty-french-novel, @delicious-collection

[duckymacaroon]

Ok tumblr is a stange mistress…like it shows me stuff from TLOU a game/show I’ve never played or watched yet somehow I’m reading steamy smutty fan fictions of Joel…and liking it. To randomly last week showing me stuff from COD: modern warfare 2 about Ghost Simon Riley and I fell down that rabbit hole of smutty goodness BUT again never played the games, never heard of the guy yet is on my feed for about a week.

Now!!! I have Star Trek!! STAR FREAKING TREK! What’s next…? No really I’m scared…I’ve already fallen in love with a dilf and a masked soldier…I can’t handle anymore surprises.

Also some how I got sucked into the halo universe too…but at least I played halo 5 so I knew something about it. But come one chief is one sexy dude

[codgod]

I'm absolutely in love with your atau but it got me thinking in the original Adventure Time they were girls so does it take place in the reboot. So It took probably 30 minutes I finally decided it's like a third pocket dimension thing. (i am not sane)

yeah it’s a secret third thing. idk if i’ve mentioned it on this blog but katherine roughly takes the place of finn but she’s also still a princess and like. ice king (fwhip) and simon (pixl) are seperate entities and there’s a bunch of other differences so. i’m just taking at canon and swirling it around like spaghetti to get all the empires members to fit where i think they should go (and some don’t have exact analogues to existing at characters, like i think chromia just Exists and scott is basically the same in the au as he is in canon just like. not human because katherine is the only human)

[babyboybuckley]

1 year ago today I was at my lowest point, and had it not been for some friends I called and went and stayed with for a few hours, I know I wouldn't be here today.

Today, I'm lying in bed after driving home to a beautiful sunset, waiting for the energy to come back to finish a project to wear tomorrow night. I'm going out with a friend I haven't seen in almost 3 years. I saw more friends last weekend who i also havent seen in nearly 3 years. I've done things I couldn't even dream of 3 years ago. I've done things that this time last year seemed completely out of reach to me.

Life is still hard. It's always going to be hard. But in the past year I have held so much happiness in my hands that I know, deep down, even when it decides to leave, that happiness will return to me. I can let it go and be sad for a while, but it will come back. And each time, I will learn to tame it further so it stays for longer, until one day it builds a nest just outside my window so I can watch it for years to come.

Hold on to your happiness when you have it. It will build itself a home in you, and one day you will look down and realise it flew in for the last time and never left

[double-t-mattboldy12]

Oh yeah, good things are happening😏

We got an Ekker goal, a Klingberg goal, a Sunny goal, a Shawzy goal, TWO Hartzy goals, a Goose goal, and Reavo was coming in hot with his second goal in a row!

[whatever-dude]

BABY BEE GOAL!!!!!!!!! WITH A TK ASSIST!!!