#guess quarantine did one thing good

[polygondotcomvideoproducer]

Me, 1 week ago, perpetually numb: Man this sucks, I miss experiencing strong emotions

Me, now, properly angry for the first time in god knows how long: Man this sucks, I mi

[distantwave]

[notjoelmiller]

the protector

MDNI

joel miller x tess's sister!reader (not blood related) summary: Joel promised Tess he would take care of you. It's fine until he finds himself infatuated with you and Ellie accuses him of replacing Tess. wordcount: 5.0k warnings: smut (unprotected p-in-v), unspecified age gap, canon character death, spoilers up to episode 3, background character death, violence, joel is not a good person in this

Tess asks him one night as he stitches her up. Negotiations went wrong, and Joel tends to her carefully. He always does. It was his way of setting things right.

Joel had to carry her back to their apartment. Her skin lost its rosy hue in the process, and she shivered in his arms the whole way back. Joel thought he lost her. He almost did.

With the apartment illuminated by the streams of moonlight peeking through the window, he puts her back together. Needle and threat prod and pull at her skin. The makeshift infirmary that their apartment has become reeks of iron and alcohol.

He killed earlier, with his bare hands. He’s only done that a few times before. He liked using guns or knives, but he beat that man who hurt Tess. Crushed his eye socket just to watch him bleed. It was irresponsible and reckless. His hands tremble with the lingering adrenaline mixed with newfound anxiety. Tess is alive, he tries telling himself. It doesn’t quell the shakes.

He has only two stitches left when Tess speaks for the first and only time that night. Her words come out slowly, either from the blood loss or careful consideration. 

“If anything happens to me, take care of my sister, okay?” She asks.

Joel pauses, needle hanging just above her skin. His fingers are caked in Tess’s blood, maybe some of a stranger. He’s sure it’s gonna be there in the morning, no matter how much he scrubs his skin raw. 

“Okay,” he says.

“Promise?”

“I swear.”

They don’t mention it. Years pass before she asks him to make another promise– to take care of an infected girl. He swears to her again, and when he does he remembers: the farm in western Massachusetts circled on a map, the mysterious kid sister Tess always talks about, the promise he made with blood caked under his nails.

As smoke from the capitol building pollutes the blue sky, Joel wonders if Tess remembers it. Perhaps, while grappling with her last lucid moments before the infection takes over, it brought her peace– the thought of her sister’s safety.

Save who you can save.

Once things calm down, and distance muffles the screeches of the infected, Ellie asks where they’re going.

***

Joel doesn’t see the resemblance. Ellie says she does. It’s in the eyes, she tells him. That determination. Scary shit. Joel can’t deny it, you do have that intense Tess-stare. But the expression is about where the resemblance ends.

In fact, the moment he lays eyes on you, he realizes that when Tess said “sister”, it was an expression– a bond beyond blood. Even if you weren’t related, you were important to her.

“Tess is dead,” he says minutes after you welcome him and Ellie into your home. “Asked me to look after you.”

You excuse yourself after Joel tells you. Ellie elbows him in the ribs when you disappear into the upstairs section of the house. It was a disturbing delivery, evident by your quiet gasps and sobs in the other room, but it was fact. Tess is gone, and Joel has a promise to fulfill. Sugarcoating it won’t change anything.

You fail to emerge from your room before sundown. Ellie tells him that they should clear out and let you grieve, but something keeps him planted in your living room. 

It’s cozy, not just by post-infection standards. You somehow keep the place neat, but it still looks lived in. Polaroids sit in frames on top of the fireplace. Most of them are you and Tess. In some of them, she’s younger, before Joel met her in the quarantine zone. Though, others were more recent. If Joel had to guess, the newest photo was taken in the last two years. He never knew how much Tess came out to see you. How much you really meant to her.

You don’t reemerge until the stars come out. Even then, with puffy, but dry, eyes and a monotonous voice you tell the strangers where they can sleep. Hospitable, despite the waves of grief that radiate from your frame.

As you set up the guest rooms, Joel explains that they’re leaving in the morning. He offers you the choice of staying, but tells you that you have a better chance out there than here alone, with nobody watching over you. He doesn’t know if that’s true, but he knows that Tess would have wanted you under his protection.

Ellie tries comforting you in the only way her emotionally-stunted self can. She cracks jokes, tries her best to break the tension. It doesn’t make you laugh. Hell, you don’t even smile. Ellie’s curls into herself, embarrassed, but only because she misses the way your shoulders droop and eyes soften. Joel does see it.

After the pair are settled into the spare rooms, you disappear again. When they wake the next morning, you’re back to normal. Somewhat. You flutter around the house with a backpack and a duffle, shoving personal items and essentials in. You don’t greet your guests, instead you start by ordering Ellie to bring non-perishables from the kitchen to the truck. She nods dumbly and gets straight to work. Joel frowns at her obedience until your eyes land on him.

You lower your voice, “The photos.” Your voice is hoarse at that volume, no doubt exacerbated by your night of grief. “I can’t take them all. If you want one you can– I mean, you don’t need to. Tess didn’t talk much about you, but she sent you after me, didn’t she?” You chuckle. It’s humorless. “I guess you two trusted each other.” You nod to the mantle. Only a few photos remain. 

He frowns. Had Tess not told you about them? He had assumed that in thirteen years, you would have said something. His hands clench. “Photos ain’t gonna change a thing,” he states.

Your face crumples like he’s just spitten on your sister’s grave. “Maybe.” You turn away. “I’ll help Ellie with the food. Then we can go.”

You work with Ellie to clear out the rest of the food supply. She talks your ear off the entire time you pack. Apparently, she’s thrilled to have you joining her and Joel, though you fear she isn’t actually interested in your company. You think she only talks to you so enthusiastically because you're more responsive than Joel. 

Despite your hesitance, you find yourself anticipating joining the pair. It’s not like you have much of a choice in the matter, though. Tess kept you stocked. She kept you safe. With her gone, and her partner heading west, you were alone. In a few months time, you would be out of bullets and meds, and with the winter approaching, the odds would be against you.

Ellie knocks on the side of Joel’s truck. “Do you know how to drive?” She asks, flipping a knife in her hands with a bit too much ease for your liking. You wonder how long she’s had that thing. Thankfully, it looks relatively unused. “Joel doesn’t wanna teach me… but maybe you could give me lessons. It’ll be really fuckin’ cool– plus I could help you guys out and take some driving shifts.”

You shrug, tucking the last pile of cans in the truck bed. Ellie’s standing on the wheel, looking at you with wide, expectant eyes. “So?” She asks, leaning forward so much, you think she’ll fall into the bed.

Joel comes out before you can make that promise. He stomps down the porch steps, telling you and Ellie to get in the car. There’s no urgency to his orders. For that you’re grateful. Driving off in that car means the end of the last twenty years of your life. No more of the farm, no more New England, no more Tess. 

You wait for anxiety to come, but it doesn’t. Somehow, you’ve made peace with it all. With Ellie and Joel, your new companions.

Ellie seems attached to you. She’s been chatting your ear off for the better part of the hour. It’s nice. She keeps your mind off grief.

You wonder if this is how Tess felt, when she first found you and took you under her wing. Sure, you were less chatty than Ellie, but you find yourself feeling a strange possessiveness over the girl. You’ve never had to be a role model, someone for a young girl to look up to. You think about Tess, all she did to make sure you were well-adjusted in this world. Ellie seems like a good kid. You just hope that you’ll be able to guide her like Tess did you.

Joel seems less excited to have you, more like he’s carrying out a duty. You suppose that is the case, that Tess sent him to you in her absence. You don’t understand why she kept him around for so many years. He doesn’t appear to be the best company. He’s quiet, though when he chooses to speak it’s curt, leaving a bad taste in your mouth. 

He’s not bad on the eyes, though. Maybe that’s why she kept him around.

Ellie nudges your shin with her foot. She stares at you with wide, expectant eyes. “You can sit shotgun,” she says.

You smile, “Thanks, kid.”

***

Joel dreams about Tess. He dreams she’s still with him. Everything’s the same– he's left Boston, Bill and Frank are gone –except you’re absent. Back on the farm, perhaps, doing whatever the hell it was you did there.

Ellie’s still in his dreams, at least most of the time. Sometimes she’s not. Some nights, she’s taller, with a head of curly hair. She’s got the same snark, but less of a tendency to use profanities.

The dreams keep him up. When he eventually falls asleep, it isn’t for long. The dreams come, and Tess says something too close to that day in the capitol or he catches a head of curly hair. Then he’s up, breathing heavily and sweating hard. You notice, of course you do. Tess was like that. She always had an inkling whenever something was eating at Joel. You ask if he wants to talk about it.

Of course I do.

But Joel just shrugs. He wants that companionship, that person to lean on in his struggles, but not in you. You’re not the person he wants to burden.

***

You grieve differently than Joel. You actually take time to talk about Tess, tell stories about her– good and bad. Ellie loves it, grateful to learn more about the woman she could only be with for a short time. The woman who saved her life.

It helps Joel learn about your relationship. He gathers that you came together at the start of the infection. You grew together, learning from each other. You were younger than her, he guesses by at least a decade, and had grown into your own under her guidance.

You and Tess parted ways months before she met Joel. You wanted autonomy, a place to call your own. You wanted the openness of the country and the ability to live off the land, not on FEDRA rations. Tess needed security. She needed to know that she wouldn’t be ripped apart by clickers in her sleep. She wanted a quarantine zone. So, you split up.

But there was– is –no bitterness in that disagreement, Joel finds. When you recall that parting of ways and your desires for different lives, you seem content. It irks him that you have such a strange peace with that, after knowing the fate of your sister, while you stand with him now, alive and well.

There are glimpses of Tess in you. He admits that to Ellie one night after you’ve gone to sleep, hardly a week after you joined the duo. What he doesn’t admit to Ellie is how much of Tess he really sees in you, and that sometimes, he has to stop himself from calling you by her name.

But of course, he slips up. It happens only once. You’re walking behind him, telling some story about a poor sucker who gave you trouble back on the farm. It’s a good story, but coming from your lips? Joel is captivated.

He goes to respond to some gruesome detail of the story, but her name comes out of his mouth. Not yours. Tess. Ellie whips her head around unbelievably fast, eyes so wide he can practically hear her thoughts screaming at him, what the hell Joel?

He’s quick to cover it up. “Tess… she said something like that happened to her once, too.”

Joel’s glad you’re behind him. You can’t see the way his face crumples in shame. Though, he can’t see whether or not you caught it.

When you’re out of earshot, Ellie calls it a Freudian slip. Joel tells her to watch her mouth.

***

You’re softer than Tess from all that time on the farm. Sure, you have your fair share of trouble with raiders and stray infected, and you know your way around a fight. But you’ve never stepped foot in a quarantine zone. You’ve never had to deal with the Fireflies, the grifters, or even FEDRA.

Tess had gone through all of that. She internalized it– let it change her. It roughened her edges enough that even the thought of submitting to Joel made her hackles raise. Not you, though.

You don’t just accept his touch. You practically melt at it. She let him touch her, being intimate physically in ways he could never verbalize, but she never reveled in it. She would never sigh and lean into his hand on her cheek. She couldn’t let her muscles relax in his embrace, but she’d always accept it. After all, she was his.

You’re not, but you take and cherish all that Joel has to give you. You live for it. You could forget about all of your troubles with him. He sees it in the way your hands linger on his when he helps you up after a fight, and he often feels the back of his neck burning with your stares. He likes the attention you give him.

You don’t have to kill much, but Joel’s tendency to protect Ellie from death has rubbed off on you. You kill when needed, and each time, once the body lays still, Joel notices you pause. You take time to observe the life you took, and a profound sadness overtakes you. Not remorse, though. Joel has found that you don’t regret what you had to do. He thinks you got that from Tess.

Unfortunately, that habit of yours teaches him how thoroughly fucked he is.

Joel gets knocked to the ground by a hunter. His head snaps back against the ground. Not hard enough to concuss, but it rattles him to the point that he can’t get the damn guy off of him. In the haze, he doesn’t feel the knife resting on the skin of his neck.

You see it, though, and in moments, you're on the hunter. 

Joel is too dazed to realize what had occurred until you’re leaning over him, cupping his jaw gently as you examine his face. 

His eyes dance between you and the hunter just inches away. He’s a pile of bloodied flesh. You don’t care. There’s blood on you. It’s thick and coats your arms and torso. All you do is ask Joel questions. Are you alright? Do you think you’re concussed? Do you need help getting up? Your eyes are on him– him alone.

He tries keeping up with your questions. Not just because they’re important, but because he wants to please you. You– who put aside your morals just to dote on him. You– the woman he vowed to protect. You– the new object of Joel’s infatuation.

***

The first time he really touches you, you’re speechless.

You’ve felt his touch before. It’s unavoidable– a graze of calloused fingertips over a wound you can’t reach, a helping hand lifting you over a high ledge, fingers lingering just a moment after handing rations. But this time, it’s different. It’s not accidental, nor the result of your forced proximity.

Ellie’s asleep, snoring softly just a few feet away.

You and Joel had an argument. A minor disagreement, really. He refuses to let you take the night watch and let him sleep. So, you sit in silence.

He’s tearing himself apart with his martyrdom. He sacrifices his sleep so he can take watch instead of you. He takes all the heat in fights, leaving you and Ellie unscathed, but him with unsavory injuries. He gives you and Ellie larger shares of food. You swear he’s lost weight since you’ve joined them. You pointed this all out to him earlier in the night. And he didn’t take it well.

You two don’t argue frequently. For that, you’re grateful. Joel’s not the best company, even by today’s standards, but you’ve come to enjoy having him by your side. He’s courteous, helpful, and has an unexpectedly good sense of humor. But when you get into a disagreement, you wonder why you joined him in the first place. He becomes something else, cold and detached. He’s so venomous and vile that you find your chest hurting with frustration.

You’re both still recovering from earlier. It was a tame disagreement by your standards. Both of you managed to get over it just enough to sit next to each other by the fire. For warmth, you both agreed.

Hours after the sun disappears, the moon and stars being the only light in the sky, Joel shifts. You almost ask what’s the matter, then he takes his hand in yours, resting it on his thigh.

You don’t tense. You don’t look at him. You don’t signal in any way that he’s actually touching you. His fingers brush over your knuckles, calluses scratching against taught skin over joints, and strangely, your heart flutters. He falls asleep like that, your hand in his.

A week later, under the blanket of night, Joel fucks you against a tree.

There’s no tenderness in it, but it’s not like you expected anything different. 

He tells you to keep it down. It's an obscene request that he makes as though his hands aren’t up your shirt, grabbing at you like you’re the only person in the world. He makes it seem like the drilling of his hips into you doesn’t make it near-impossible to keep it down.

He makes quick work of you. His fingers deftly rub at your clit until you're swallowing the noises of your orgasm. Joel doesn’t last much longer, pulling out and spilling himself on your thighs. 

You don’t talk about it the next morning. You keep the appearance of “normalcy”, for Ellie’s sake. You just hope she doesn’t notice the smiles you share behind her back.

***

His dreams change. Now most nights, he’s back in Boston in his shitty bed that cost way too many ration cards. That doesn’t matter though, because it’s peaceful. 

Sunlight peeks through the curtain and warms the skin of his face. The streets outside are quiet. He’s warm, satisfied, and safe.

He’s alone in bed, but someone flitters around the apartment out of view. He hears it: footsteps all around the space, the quiet clang of dishes being stacked on top of each other, a feminine humming.

He can’t move in those dreams, forced to keep his eyes on the bright window– the one with the butterfly.

He wants to call her name. Tess, Tess, Tess. The syllable sits on the tip of his tongue, yet he can’t manage to say it. The word refuses to leave his lips. It’s like his body knows something he doesn’t.

It knows that something is wrong.

***

With every brush of Joel’s fingers against yours, Ellie is watching. 

She’s waiting to pounce. Joel knows it. One wrong move and Ellie’s going to say it, accuse him of what he knows she’s thinking.

So, you two like a…

Pass.

Ellie wasn’t stupid. She knew what that meant. Ellie saw it in his eyes when they left Tess at the state house. As he watched it burn with Tess inside. 

Not to feel the way I felt…

She read that letter from Bill.

The girl is a quintessential post-outbreak kid. She’s anxious for a fight, angry, and emotionally repressed. But the girl was also raised in a military school, and it made her observant. So every touch your way, every smile at you, and every thought he makes, Ellie knows.

Joel avoids Ellie for a long time, but she manages to get through. 

You’re somewhere in West Virginia. You’ve been with Joel and Ellie for about a month, just enough time for fall to settle in. 

It isn’t as bad as in Boston where, by the time the leaves turned, the days were too cold to even enjoy the beauty of it. West Virginia, though, sure the nights were chilly, but the days were pleasing.

It reminds him of Austin. Austin never really had a true autumn. The season came with the bloom of red, orange, and yellow leaves, but there was no chill of the impending winter. In Austin, it looked different, but felt just the same– or close enough. He loved it. He misses it.

Joel holds a photo in his hand. The one he took from your mantle the morning you abandoned the farm. It’s you and Tess, beaming at the camera. He keeps it folded in his pocket at all times in case he needs it to bring comfort. Currently he does.

The photo has rubbed away at the seam of the fold. If Joel ever decided to unfold it, to look at you two as one, there would be a white crease in the middle. A divide. He doesn’t, though. Joel never unfolds it and resorts to looking at either of you one at a time.

Now, it’s you staring back at him. A moment ago, it was Tess.

Ellie sits on the opposite side of the fire. You’re sleeping off the last of a fever you managed to catch. 

He wants to reach out to you, pull you in his arms until the fever breaks. The urge gnaws at him, makes something twist and burn deep in his gut. He should think. He needs to think. Not with Ellie watching him, though. He needs her off his back.

Here goes nothing.

He says her name, once, curtly. Her eyes widen slightly, just for a moment, but composes herself. She sits up tall. Joel lets her speak first. It takes her a moment, but she speaks like she’s been considering her words for a long time.

“Tess said you didn’t feel the way she felt.”

“I cared for her. For Tess.” Ellie frowns, eyes squinted as she bores into his very being. “A lot,” Joel adds.

“Does her sister know that?”

Joel says Ellie’s name, quietly. It���s meant to be a warning, but as it passes through his lips he can’t help but think it sounds pathetic. Pathetic, like you fucking Tess’s kid sister. His jaw ticks as something putrid curdles in his stomach.

No. No. He refuses to let a child judge him. What does she know about relationships? What does she know about love?

Love? No, not love. Not love. Physical relationships, that’s what this is about. Not love. No, Joel doesn’t love. Not Tess. And certainly not you, not that you matter in this case, because Tess has nothing to do with you.

He looks back at the photo in his hand. Tess stares back at him.

“You’re replacing her, Joel.”

***

Joel isn’t a man to cherish. He loves nothing– nobody. You’ve seen him kill more times than you can count, and not all of those deaths were deserving. 

He reveals himself in pieces and only on rare occasions. You learn of his past slowly. He was a hunter. He has a brother, one who left him years ago. He may have had a child at one point. He wanted to be a singer when he was a boy.

You’ve known one thing from the start, and it’s that he tends to you like you’re the only thing that matters.

You found a settlement. Just for the night, they let you stay in a house– a real one, with showers, working locks, nice furniture, and all. You almost cry when you rub the homemade soap bar against your skin. You feel like a new person when you step out of the shower, your skin soft and glowing in a way you haven’t experienced in years.

If you had to be honest, the separate bedrooms are your favorite part.

You’re not even out of the shower for a minute before Joel has you beneath him on the bed. 

He fists a hand into your still dripping hair and tugs. His tongue pushes its way into your mouth, and you welcome the taste of him– it’s fresh, like the toothpaste you had traded for once you came to town. You chase his lips as he pulls back. 

“Couldn’t wait for you to come out, baby.” He adds, “Need you.” You believe it. You believe it wholeheartedly and it makes heat wash through your body. Joel has a way of making you feel like that.

His jean-clad hips rut into your plush thigh. The buckle digs into your skin, nearly camouflaging the sensation of his cock. 

The towel you wrapped yourself in has unfolded, leaving you exposed to the cold air of the bedroom. Your nipples stiffen. Joel takes one between his fingers, twisting and pulling as he groans into your mouth. His spare hand works on removing his pants. You explore the expanse of his back.

Deft fingers move from your breasts to your core. Joel’s thumb rubs at your clit, while two fingers trace the seam of your entrance. His fingers are cold, you clench around nothing as they tease you. Joel doesn’t get many opportunities to drag things out, to tease you until tears are running down your face. You love that side of him. It helps you imagine what it would be like to be with him before the infection. But tonight isn’t the time. 

You swat his hand away, murmuring, “Don’t need that,” you swat his hands. “Just want you.”

Joel hesitates. You do need that, and he knows you know that fact. It’s been a few weeks since you last fucked. It was sure to be a stretch. His eyes wash over your face, searching for any uncertainty before he nods and notches himself at your entrance.

It’s not a smooth coupling by any means. You rushed into things too fast. His length rubs unpleasantly against your walls as he pushes in. Though, you pull him closer with your legs. You just needed to feel him.

He holds your hips up as he pistons into you. He moves slowly tonight. There’s no urgency, no threat that Ellie might come around the corner and catch you in the act. You indulge in the rare intimacy.

You dig your face into the crook of his neck. Every inhale you take is purely him. “Driving me crazy, Miller,” you whisper.

“Good,” Joel laughs. He’s never laughed during sex before. You figured he wasn’t the type, that letting loose like that in the act wasn’t his style. Apparently not.

You reach your peak quicker than expected. It washes over you in lazy waves, softening your muscles and melting you into the bed beneath you. It drains you. Or maybe the luxury of the bed beneath you is causing your exhaustion.

Luckily, Joel’s not far behind, pulling out and working himself to his peak. He cums on your stomach, your newly cleaned skin now dirtied with your sweat and his seed. You’re too tired and too blissed out to care though. You can always shower again in the morning.

Joel takes your discarded towel to clean your stomach. He throws it to the ground before settling himself at your side. You roll over, letting him adhere to your back.

Your eyes are drawn to the towel. Next to it are Joel’s discarded jeans. Something sticks out of his pocket. You squint.

It’s Tess– one of the pictures of her you had on your mantle. You were in that photo too, but it was folded in half, and now you had to stare at your deceased sister. The photo was one you had offered to Joel. Photos ain’t gonna change a thing, he had said back then on the farm. It irked you. It irked you for so long that you had been hesitant at the start of your relationship– if that's what you could call this. Back then, you had been afraid of getting attached to him. You were scared he wouldn’t ever call you his.

But he had the photo, and it’s… somewhat disturbing. He had been so cold then when you asked him. You only offered it because you thought he and Tess were closer. After all, she asked him to take care of you, and he listened. Then he turned it down, and you realized– assumed –you misinterpreted them. You accepted it as the truth.

He has it now, though. However many months later he has that photo.

Joel’s arm tightens around your waist, pulling your back closer to his chest. “What are you thinkin’ about?” He sounds tired. 

You thought he was asleep, assuming the relative safety of the settlement and your nightly activities would be enough to knock him out. You’re tired too. Part of you wants to forget it, lean back into Joel’s arms and fall asleep. Then you see her staring back at you, her smile frozen in time. 

You wonder if Joel buried her. You wonder if Joel shot her. He didn’t tell you much about her passing, only that she had been infected, and chose to end it before turning. He never said how it ended.

“Were you and Tess together?”

It’s a simple question. So simple, and yet Joel hesitates. You count the seconds it takes him to answer you. One, two, three, four, five, six–

“No.”

Six seconds.

“Okay.”

Tess smiles back at you.

[finnsbubblegum]

Quarantining Together (Pedro Pascal X Reader)

Pair: pedro pascal x f!reader

Warnings: fluff, pulling pranks (let me know if i missed any)

Summary: Imagine what it’s like quarantining with Pedro Pascal.

Words: 2k

A/N: This is my first pedro fic. I tried my best to imagine how playful and sweet Pedro is in real life. I hope you like it! I’ve been writing Joel Miller fics so I guess I’ll give it a try. I know a lot of you don’t really like a real person fic but this idea came into my mind when I listened to that interview where Pedro talked about the quarantine period during covid 19 pandemic. And when he talked about his friends that supported him during that period, he was holding his cry. I kept thinking what if there was someone there who quarantined with him together so he wouldn't feel alone during the lockdown. 

“Did you hear about the news?” Pedro sat on the edge of the couch sipping on his coffee.

“What news?” You tilted your head.

“We’ll have a lockdown from next week. We have to stay at home. The pandemic is getting out of control.” Pedro put his cup on the coffee table.

“Oh..I should get the groceries then. Stock up. I think you should too. Your fridge has nothing.” You chuckled.

He chuckled and froze for a while. His face was so focused. It seemed like he was thinking about something serious. 

“I was thinking..” He gulped.

“Maybe we could quarantine here together. What do you think?” Pedro looked at you.

“Here? You sure?” You raised your eyebrows.

You and Pedro had been dating for a few months and he hadn’t asked you to move in. But you always came to his place everyday to spend time together, watch movies, eat dinner, and sometimes crash for a few nights.

“I’m sure, hun.” Pedro chuckled.

“Yay!” You jumped and hugged him.

He groaned at your weight and wrapped his arms around you.

“So should I start moving my stuff today?” You pulled back your head to look at him.

Pedro nodded then he drove you back to your apartment and helped you pack your stuff. You packed your essentials and brought 2 big suitcases. Before you left your apartment for God knows how long, you made sure you had turned off all of the lights and unplugged any sockets.

“Done.” You dragged your suitcases near the door.

Pedro lent his hand to drag both of your suitcases. 

“Take this one. This one’s heavy.” You dragged the heavy one closer to you.

“Nuh-uh. I’ll take that one.” Pedro took the bigger suitcase off from your hands.

You chuckled and shook your head. Pedro was always a gentleman and he treated you like a princess. You loved it but sometimes you felt bad.

“Let’s stop by the grocery store before we go to your place.” You suggested Pedro to buy some groceries and stock up.

“Okay.” Pedro nodded and started the car.

You and Pedro bought everything you needed and of course some vegetables, fruits, cereals, milk, and instant food that you could keep for a few more weeks. You went home to Pedro’s house with a lot of paper bags. You and Pedro had to make a few turns to the car to move the groceries. 

“Finally! Last one!” Pedro put the last paper bag on the kitchen table.

“Phew! That’s a lot of work.” You wiped your sweat from your forehead. 

“Why don’t we take a break, hun?” Pedro massaged your shoulder.

“But we still need to organize them..” You were an organized person so you couldn’t stand seeing messy things.

“Come on, just 5 minutes.” Pedro pushed you gently and sat you to the couch.

You sighed as you sat. You suddenly felt all your muscles ache from packing your stuff earlier today and all the groceries stuff. 

“Come here.” Pedro moved closer to you and turned you so your back faced him.

Then he gently massaged your shoulder then your back. He knew you loved back massage so he often gave you massage. 

“That feels good.” You closed your eyes and hummed.

He chuckled and kept massaging every inch of your back. Then he kissed your shoulder as a sign that he finished massaging your back. You turned your head to him and smiled.

“Thank you, P.” You placed a kiss on his lips.

“Your turn.” You asked him to turn so you could massage him.

“Not now. Why don’t you do it for me before we go to bed?” He smirked.

“Yes sir.” You smirked back at him.

You and Pedro spent the day organizing the groceries and your stuff. Then you watched a movie in the living room together, cuddled on the couch, and ordered pizza. After the movie ended, the two of you went to bed. You didn’t forget to give him the back massage you owed him. 

“Good night, hun.” Pedro kissed your head that was resting on his chest.

“Good night, P.” You rubbed his chest.

His warmth gave you comfort and security that made you sleep so well. You hated the pandemic but on the other side you were glad because it was the reason he finally asked you to move in. Now you wouldn’t have to be worried about having sleepless nights and dealing with nightmares all alone. You had him. You had Pedro there next to you to comfort you when you needed it.

You yawned as the sunlight woke you up. You squealed as you stretched your body then you looked next to you. Pedro was already awake. He was sitting with a pillow behind his back, iPad in his hands. He was reading a script for his next project. You loved watching him in work mode. Pedro was a hard worker and you loved a hardworking man.

“Morning.” Pedro saw you had woken up.

“Morning.” You chuckled and rubbed your eyes.

“How was your sleep?” Pedro put away his iPad to the bedside table.

“Best sleep I’ve ever had this month.” You chuckled and snuggled to put your arms around his waist.

“How was your sleep?” You asked him back.

“I slept so well. Thanks to the massage you gave me last night.” Pedro chuckled and stroked your head. 

*TOOT*

Pedro farted. Yes, he farted right when your head was so close to his butt. Then he quickly pulled the sheets and buried you under the sheets. He laughed out loud while you struggled to save yourself from Pedro’s fart bomb. 

“P!” You screamed for your life.

Pedro kept fighting you so you couldn’t get out from the sheets. He kept laughing while you were actually dying. He finally let you out after a few minutes. 

“What was that?!” You panted, gasping for clean air.

“That..is..my love for you.” Pedro giggled and kissed you.

“You definitely have to poop right now! I mean it! It smells so bad!” You hit his chest.

“Okay. Okay.” Pedro chuckled and went to the bathroom.

You groaned as you got out of the bed and opened the window for ventilation. His fart smell was still stuck in your nose and you needed fresh air. While you waited for him doing his business, you went to the kitchen to make breakfast. You toasted some bread, fried some eggs and bacon. 

“Hmm, smells so good, honey.” Pedro suddenly hugged you from behind. 

You chuckled as he swayed you for a moment before he sat. 

“Thank you.” He thanked you for making breakfast for him. 

“You’re welcome.” You smiled and took a bite of your toast.

“What do you want to do today?” Pedro asked you what you had planned for the day.

“I was thinking of reading a book and just chill.” You shrugged.

“That’s a good idea.” Pedro nodded.

“How about you?” You asked him back.

“I have to practice my lines. And I need your help.” He mumbled while munching on the bacon.

“Of course, I’ll help you with that.” You smirked.

After the two of you finished breakfast, Pedro offered to wash the dishes. You took a shower and went to the pool to read under the sun. You read a few pages and dozed off. 

*SPLASH*

You screamed as you fell inside the pool. You tried to find your balance and stood up in the pool. The water was high up to your chest. You heard Pedro laugh while you panted and wiped your face. 

“I HATE YOU!” You yelled at him.

Pedro bursted into laughter. He loved pulling pranks on you because he enjoyed watching your reactions. You knew he was always a prankster and sometimes you pulled a prank on him but his pranks were worse. You could never win from his pranks. It hadn’t been one day yet and he already pranked you twice. You needed to prank him back. 

“Think, think, think.” You kept telling yourself inside your mind.

You decided to act pissed and gave him the silent treatment. He lent you his hand to help you out from the pool but you ignored him. You chose to walk on the stairs and got out yourself. Pedro got you a towel but you pushed him away. You just stayed silent and walked inside the house to get yourself a towel. He started getting worried. He believed your acts. He thought you were really mad at him. 

“Honey, I’m sorry.” Pedro followed you from behind.

You didn’t answer him, not even looked at him. You went to the bathroom and dried yourself while Pedro leaned on the bathroom door and waited for you. His eyes looked sad and he tried talking to you a few times but you kept quiet. You acted like he wasn’t there. 

“I promise I’m not gonna do that again, darling. I’m sorry.” He took your hand. 

You wanted to laugh seeing him following you like a toddler. Especially because you were not mad at him. He pulled you but you walked away, your back facing him holding your laugh. You took a deep breath so you wouldn’t burst into laughter. Then you got into character again and went back to the pool. You hoped he was still following you because you wanted to pay him back. Yes, you were planning to push him to the pool just like he did to you. 

“Is there anything you want? Let me make it up to you, honey. I’ll do anything you want. Just talk to me.” Pedro followed you to the pool.  

“Hit me, honey. If that makes you feel better.” He took your hand and moved it to hit his chest. 

Finally, this was it. It was the right time. You gathered your courage and pushed him with force. 

“Pay back time!” You shouted and pushed him.

*SPLASH*

Pedro fell into the pool. Your plan worked. You were finally able to laugh. Pedro wiped his face and slicked his hair back. 

“You’re not mad at me?” He stood there inside the pool.

“Of course not. I was just trying to get back at you! You naughty!” You stuck your tongue at him.

Pedro laughed. He was relieved that you weren’t mad at him. It was better that you pranked him back rather than you being angry at him. 

“I guess we’re even now?” Pedro shrugged.

“Not yet, mister. One more and then we’re even. So you need to be careful.” You raised your eyebrows and put your hands on your hips.

“Yes, maam.” Pedro slowly walks near the edge of the pool. 

“Help me up?” He extended his hand asking you to help him out of the pool.

You knew this was also one of his ways to pull pranks on you. You were certain he was going to pull you inside the pool with him. But you were okay with that because at least you had pranked him once today. So you put our hand on his. He smirked and pulled you. Just as you had expected, you were now inside the pool with him. 

“I knew you were going to do that.” You wiped your face as you giggled.

“Uh-huh?” He nodded and put his arms around you. 

Pedro pulled you closer and kissed your lips. 

“Salty.” You frowned. 

“Now that..was.. a mix of the pool water aaand..my pee.” Pedro giggled at your face.

He claimed to have peed inside the pool. You gagged and wiped your mouth while Pedro just laughed looking at you. He loved you so much that you were his source of his happiness. He adored you so much and your reactions when he pranked you entertained him. 

“You’re so cute, honey. I’m dying.” He gave you a deep kiss.

“I’m dying too because you pulled too many pranks on me.” You chuckled.

“You should know that is my love language.” Pedro cupped your cheeks.

“I know.” You rolled your eyes.

“I love you so much it hurts.” Pedro gazed through your eyes. His eyes were full of love.

“I love you so much too, P.” You smiled and kissed him.

[fooled-around-and-fell]

The Two of Us

Summary: Joel unexpectedly meets an old friend near Jackson City.

Characters: Joel Miller x female reader

Genre: romance

Warnings: mention of death (not main characters), killing a loved one

a/n: I'm back from my hole to write about this fine, fine man.

please note that some stuff may not be the same as the game/series.

Joel and Tommy were out scouting a horde of infected, they were sent by Maria early that morning. Joel's had a bad feeling the entire ride there, so he kept an eye out.

"Alright, that was the last one." Tommy said as he got on his horse. "Let's head back."

Joel's horse followed Tommy, but Joel came to a halt when he heard noises. "Wait." He motioned Tommy to go around the back of the bush from where he heard the noise.

He got off his horse, shotgun in hand, as he silently stepped on the snow, careful not to be seen. Joel turned his body around the bush, his shotgun ready to fire. He was met with another gun by his head.

"Drop it." You commanded, clicking your gun.

"No," Tommy clicked his gun from behind you, "You drop it."

Joel moved away from his position and faced you, there was a frown of confusion but also of relief. "Y/N?"

"Joel?"

After Tommy and Joel cleared that you weren't infected, Joel took you back to his house. The ride back was more like an interrogation, no one's ever heard from you -- not like people knew who you were.

You weren't as sociable as Joel, though he's not one himself, but he had friends. You mostly kept to yourself, even back in the Quarantine Zone, the only person you could let in your life was Joel.

"So where have you been all this time?" Joel asked, pouring a glass of whiskey for you. "I haven't seen you in... what, 5 years?"

You took a sip of the liquor. "I've just been around. Trying to survive, don't really have a goal in mind."

He nodded, "How did you uh.. how did you get out?"

You smiled bitterly. "When you left, a lot of people suddenly started disappearing. I didn't know if they just started killing people or what, but something in me snapped and decided I didn't want to live like that anymore."

"So I sneaked out. It wasn't easy, but I followed some guys and got out." You continued, "Made some friends along the way, lost some.. and here I am."

"How'd you find this place?" Tommy asked.

His suspicious tone didn't go unnoticed by you. "I grew up in Jackson. I just wanted to go home, didn't know there'd be survivors here."

"There's quite a few of us here. It's not much, but we survive." Joel explained. "Tommy, go talk to Maria for me. Y/N can meet her after a night's rest."

You raised a brow at Joel's demands, but said nothing. Tommy did as he was told and left you and Joel alone.

Joel didn't say anything. He just took in the sight of you, he couldn't believe you're alive. The Y/N he knew 5 years ago did not know how to fight, let alone survive in the wild.

You were also looking at Joel in return. He looked much older, but that was definitely not a bad thing. If anything he looked even hotter. Joel seemed more careful, but also more open at the same time. You didn't know his story for the past 5 years, but it definitely took a toll on him.

"Joel?"

"Hey," Joel greeted, a wary glance around the corner. "Mind if I come in?"

"No, of course not."

Joel was already a friend. He offered you oxy one time but you didn't want it. Everyone had trouble sleeping at that point, but you figured you'd rather be awake than numb the pain.

That sparked an interesting conversation with the man.

"Everything okay?"

Joel sighed, "I'm leaving tomorrow night. You might not see me again."

"...oh." You didn't know what to say. "Good luck."

He nodded, "I just wanted to tell you.. cause.. I guess in case you'd be wondering where I went."

"Thanks."

Joel gave you one last look before leaving. "If you ever get out of here one day... I hope we meet again."

Joel left you to shower and prepared your room. He'd get you your own place tomorrow, but since it's late you'll just have to stay at his for a night.

He brought your bag into your room and noticed an empty bullet case that you turned into a keychain. He recognized that bullet -- it was the one he gave you and had carved your name on it as a birthday gift.

"Thanks for letting me stay here." You said, not noticing what Joel was looking at.

"You still have it." Joel commented, motioning to the bullet case.

"Ah.. yeah. It's important to me. I keep it as a lucky charm." You explained, a blush slowly made its way to your cheeks. "I killed a clicker with it, had to search for the case too, but it's worth it."

Joel sat on the bed next to you. His hand holding your face while he examined every nook and cranny. You can feel your heart racing, but you've never felt more at home.

You lean into his touch and Joel took your hand, bringing it to his lips. "I'm glad you're okay."

You admitted. "I've missed you. So much."

"Me too, darling. Me too." Joel captured your lips with his, tongues dancing hungrily for the amount of years you both missed.

You climbed onto Joel's lap while his hands roamed around your body, trying to get you out of your clothes. He stopped when he came across a new scar -- and there was a lot.

"I know," You sighed, "they're not pretty to look at."

"Don't kid yourself, sweetheart." He whispered, "All of these scars... you're a fighter, a survivor. It shows that you're brave, and I love every. single. one. of. them." He said in between kisses.

"Joel..."

"Yes, princess?"

You gave him a knowing look. Of course Joel knew what it meant, what you wanted, what you needed. It was just like old times.

While Joel was in the shower, you took it upon yourself to check the pictures in his room. There was one of him and Sarah, and there was another one of him with another girl.

Does Joel have another daughter? Ellie's her name, you saw the note on the back. There was also his guitar, his books, he didn't really change.. not that you know of.

"You know curiosity killed the cat." Joel said as he took you by surprise from behind. "What were you looking at, huh?"

You chuckled. "Just some pictures, tried to figure out who you are now before I can ask questions."

"All you gotta do is ask." Joel smiled, putting on his shirt.

You leaned against his table while he laid on his bed. "Something easy first. What have you been doing for the last 5 years?"

Joel explained his journey (short version) of meeting Ellie, losing friends, their bond, and you could tell he loved the girl as if she was his own daughter.

"My turn."

"Ugh, haven't you guys interrogated me enough already?"

"That was the official stuff. Now it's me who's asking." He had a smile on his face, but it faltered. "You said you made friends and lost them too. Tell me about that."

You pursed your lips and sat next to him. "His name was James. He saved me when I was surrounded, and we camped together. He was a good friend, but he got bit." You sighed, "He begged me to end his suffering.. So I did."

Joel knew you were just telling the story without really telling him what happened, but he didn't want to pressure you. He really just wanted to know what you've been through.

"I'm sorry, darling." He kissed your forehead. "Similar thing happened to Tess. She got infected while we were trying to transport Ellie. She sacrificed herself and saved us."

You held each other for a little while. Losing friends was part of life now, it was normal, but it was still a loss.

"Um, next question." Joel changed the subject. "Are you staying here? In Jackson? Would you like to?"

You haven't thought about that. You don't know where to go, cause your first goal was just to arrive in Jackson. Now that people are living here... should you join them?

"You know you're welcome to stay. And... I'd like it if you'd stay."

"Can I answer that with a question?"

Joel didn't protest.

"Are your feelings still the same?"

He smiled longingly, cupping your face with his hands again. "It hasn't changed for me, darling. Both have changed as people, so if that means getting to know you all over again.. I'd do it all over again."

--

[dark-frosted-heart]

Aphrodisiac Event - Roger Barel (part 1)

As usual can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this

Roger: Wanna be my test subject for this (aphrodisiac)?

Kate: ...Excuse me?

While helping Roger organize his materials, I did a double take at his outrageous suggestion.

Roger: Remember how a few days ago, El and I took down a crime syndicate that was using aphrodisiacs to do some bad stuff?

Kate: Yes, of course I do. I wasn't with you, but I understand what happened. The organization responsible for manufacturing the aphrodisiac was destroyed and the crime was put to a stop, right?

Roger: Yeah, and this aphrodisiac was confiscated.

Roger placed a pretty vial on the examination table.

(At first glance, it looked like perfume or something)

Roger: Aphrodisiacs claim to enhance libido, but the active ingredient hasn’t been medically proven.

Kate: So aphrodisiacs are fictitious?

Roger: Yeah, if something called an aphrodisiac existed… Something that acts directly on the medial preoptic area of the hypothalamus*… It’d be a drug that stimulates the release of sex hormones. So I looked into this aphrodisiac and found an interesting component.

Of course Roger, whose life’s work is researching curses, would capitalize on the “interesting component”.

Kate: You didn’t…

Roger: I already gathered data on the curse by having Liam drink it.

Kate: I knew it! Just because Liam’s too nice, you used him as your guinea pig again!

Roger: That guy was happy to satisfy his curiosity so I consider it a win-win.

Kate: Um, so… You want me to take the aphrodisiac because you don’t have enough “human” samples?

Roger: You're quick on the uptake. Good, you're a fast learner.

Kate: I don't appreciate the compliment...

Roger: So, how ‘bout it?

Kate: Please don’t just offer an aphrodisiac like you would booze.

Roger: It’s nothing that serious. You’ll be quarantined so Crown won’t touch you. And if you need to be taken care of, I can help?

Roger patted my head as if while saying that as if it was nothing.

Though it was a casual gesture, it was enough for my body to recall the lustful heat.

Of the times when Roger kissed me forcefully and touched my body.

And how easy it was for me to feel good.

(Hey, don’t get caught up in it)

Kate: I can’t just say “okay, sure.” I respectfully decline.

Roger: Hmm, how cold. Guess I’ll just have to find someone else :(

Kate: Someone else…?

Roger: Once you’ve made up your mind, you gotta act, right? Let’s go.

Kate: H-hold on, Roger!

~~

I desperately tried to catch up to Roger’s casually long strides.

Kate: What do you mean by “find someone else”?

Roger: I’m looking for a woman whose biologically “human”.

Kate: No one would do such a thing.

Roger: Not if you got the money. There’s more self-sacrificing people in the world than you think.

Kate: But to have a person drink it…

Roger: What happens when they get excited? Like I said, I’ll deal with it.

Kate: T-that…

Alfons: I can hear Roger’s deep voice echoing in my sleep-deprived head. Can you be a little quieter?

Kate: Alfons…

Roger: You’re still sleepy at this hour? Your circadian rhythm’s broken.

Alfons: You would like for me to bask in the morning sun and sleep at night? I refuse. So what is it that you two are arguing so intimately about? Did Roger finally lay his hands on you?

Kate: Um, no.

Alfons: Then, what is it? I haven’t the slightest idea.

Roger: Kate won’t take the aphrodisiac.

Alfons: Really! Stingy Miss Kate.

Roger: Right? I told her I’d help when she got too horny.

Alfons: Ah! Perhaps you would like a threesome? Though I’d rather not with Roger involved.

(I can’t be the straight man…)

Alfons: When you suggested that she test the aphrodisiac, Kate declined. So now she’s desperately chasing after Roger the beast as he looks for other test subjects.

Kate: You know.

Alfons: I’m a clever man. Ah, yes. Let me give you something nice, something interesting.

Alfons holds out an invitation card.

Roger: Which high society mansion?

Alfons: It belongs to the Weasley family, who owns large plots of land. A place to bring their daughters and men together, I’m told. The father’s quite the strange fellow. “It’s best to experience a variety of men before finally choosing one,” he said. 

Roger: Oh? There’s some strange ideas these days. And it’s tonight?

Alfons: I don’t plan on making an appearance so feel free to hunt as you like.

Alfons returns to his room with a yawn.

(Roger’s going to find a test subject in high society, isn’t he?)

(I…)

Roger: Kate. Wanna come along as the “fairy tale writer”?

It’s obvious this isn’t a mission for Crown or anything.

Roger’s aware and he’s testing me.

(Something like “Follow me if you’re interested. I’ve got an excuse ready for you, okay?”)

I reflexively responded to his provocative gaze.

Kate: I’ll join you as the fairy tale writer to make sure you don’t misbehave.

Roger: Alright. Then-

Roger’s hand grasped mine tightly.

Roger: Let’s hold hands and be on our merry way.

Kate: Please let me go.

Roger: Nope.

*Here he says “the area libido is centered in the hypothalmus” but I had to do this

Part 2

[joealwyndefenseattorney]

Allow me to enter the "adult conversation". I want to answer to that anon aswell.

why didn't he show up for taylor when she needed support?

what do you even mean? As in public or private? Cause privately you don't know anything and if she stayed with him for years clearly he was doing something right. If you mean in public, first of all how do you know Taylor needed support and how do you know when she needed it? Did you expect him to drop everything and go to every single event of hers? Which is kind of hard given that she's constantly doing things and he has a job unlike what you all think. And he did supported her by the way they way

Why was he resentful of her success?

who told you he was resentful of anything? The voices in your head?

Why didn't he go with her to several awards shows? Including the Grammys!

which awards shows exactly are you referring to? Because the usual examples swifties give were on dates he was working. Funny you should mention the Grammys cause he was in the backstage of the 2022 Grammys, when even the relationship was mostly likely dead. If you mean the 2021 Grammys, he was filming. There was a pandemic and travel restrictions. Even if he could have gone, he would have to stay in quarantine before and after obviously messing up the filming schedule

Why did he party in her house whilst ignoring her all the time?

I'm sick of this party story you all got from out of nowhere. And apparently somehow even for the scope he ignored her at said party. First of all, they were living together on that house, as much as you think otherwise it wasn't her house. It was their house, as partners of years who already lived together anyway. He was not a high school kid having to ask for permission from his parents to throw a party. So if he did use the house to throw a party, it's not this outrageous thing you make it out to be. Let me remind you Taylor met and was friend with his co-stars aswell.

Why did he want her to not be as famous as she is now while Travis is very open to it?

Again, who told you he didn't want her to be famous? And I'm guessing you must be a teenager because asking why one person is ok with something someone else isn't is screaming I don't have life experiences. Think about it, if you like tomatoes does that mean everyone likes tomatoes? Ofc not, because we all have different tastes. So why does Travis loves fame and Joe doesn't? Obviously because they are two different people. And quite clearly not only Travis is ok with Taylor's fame, he also loves it and wants to be famous too.

Taylor wanted to be loved out loud but joe always seemed embarrassed by her.

if Taylor wants to be loved out loud good for her, but not everyone does and not everyone has the same love language. If she wanted that, that bad then she should have left Joe earlier cause he shouldn't change who he is to please her. They were together for years, she had plenty of time to realize he couldn't give what she wanted.

And if you mean he was embarassed as in I'm trying to do my job and promote it and people want to know about my personal life instead... that's just you thinking he should have given you content

Why didn't he answer what his fave taylor song was?

Again, because the interviews were about his job not personal life. Because he didn't want to, which is more than enough reason. Because you are not entitled to know about it anyway lol also that question was made back in 2018 when they were very much still very closed off. Maybe after folkore they would have had more luck. The only person entitled to know was Taylor and I'm sure she did so

Why did it always seem like he hated us, the fans?

As he should???? You are all fucking annoying and vile. And if he didn't hate you before, after how you all treated him over the last year he has more than reasons to. If you want the serious answer, he wasn't obliged to love any of you. He wasn't in a relationship with any of you. Get that in your skull. The person he loved was Taylor and that was the person he was in a relationship with. The reason you like Travis is because he's bootlicking you, but I assure you that's not the normal thing. Anyone normal doesn't care to appease and try her gf's fans to like you. The most he should do is respect you and not treat you badly and Joe always followed that. But ofc he didn't care beyond that. Why should he?

Why did he interact with several of his female co stars but locked her away in the basement of his heart?

not the basement. Like stop with this quoting her lyrics as a form of criticism. It's cringe as hell. Also he interacted with his co-stars (regardless of gender) yeah. Did you want him to just ignore them??? In which planet do you live?

Or literally not see she was depressed as he left her behind at home (caging her) while he went to the bar?

Not caging her. Stop you're ridiculous. Taylor wasn't chained at home. If she wanted to go out no one would stop her. Stop being ridiculous ffs. What bar are you even talking about? Is this about the black dog song which not only is post breakup but not even about him? And guess what, by Taylor's own words he was also depressed. So you can also ask yourself, why should he have empathy for her depression when he was depressed and she talks about it like a burden?

[d-structive]

So, uhh….I may have did done an impulsive thing…. While going to an Easter fair in my city…After Easter family lunch…You know…To destress…. And I KNOW is not good to give money to this kind of business…Coz is bad…(And frankly, I believe isn't exactly legal either...Not sure about that though.) But it was staring at me with that clearly not evolved face…In just few centimeters of such dirty water…Clamped with other ones... And it's SO smol…. I've called it Egg.

So far it was enough to put it in a quarantine tank (where it will stay for AT LEAST two weeks. No way I'm gonna put it with my other goldies directly...) with clean water, an aerator and some drops of methylene blue and it's already more vital and colorful looking. ..Which is promising. I guess we'll see how it will do in the next weeks. It's so smol.

[sirlazz]

Don't mind me dumping all my pixel art maps at once. For the full story, I started doing these during lockdown and got kinda popular, first on reddit but at some point local media picked up on it and it was pretty fun getting interviewed for like, making pixel art (especially since I was a kinda-beginner-artist, student, poor and starved for attention).

Anyway I ended up burning out (our school was giving us so much work during quarantine, i literally burst out crying when drawing multiple time), not making any maps for like 3 month and coming back to see that some brand had copied this but in vector art style and they could put out like 10x the ammount that I did in the same time. I was slightly upset (completely disgusted with them and myself for "letting an opportunity pass") and well now i haven't done any new map in like a year to concentrate on other things.

if you can guess what every one of these is, treat yourself with a cookie cause you're good at geography.

[lionlena]

You need a better place (Joelxreader)

So I got a request from @rm4sblog

Could you write something about Joel loving a girl with epilepsy, taking care of her, helping her, comforting her, and dealing with the memory loss and other side effects of seizures?

I agreed because the topic of epilepsy is not completely foreign to me. My cat suffers from epilepsy and unfortunately, I have seen his seizures. Of course, it's not the same as human epilepsy, but there are some similarities. Even the medications are so similar that my cat can take human medications.

I hope you will like it.

Warnings: chronic illness, epilepsy, epileptic seizure, anxiety, mention of death risk, hurt/comfort, little angst, little smut (bc you wanted, I guess)

Having epilepsy would suck in the ordinary world. In a pandemic world, that was fucking bad. It was hard to predict when you'd have an attack. Sometimes all it took was someone to shine a flashlight in your eyes. Other times, a stressful situation was enough.

So... As if everything was stressful during the pandemic. And you had a hard time finding a job. Your options were really limited. Even if you were a great shooter, this encounter with the clicker would probably end in your defeat. You would have an epilepsy attack and no weapon would help you.

Of course, there were drugs that helped you. They reduced the frequency and length of attacks, but they weren't easy to get. You'd never get them yourself. You probably would have died long ago if it wasn't Joel who help you.

Ever since you met this surly, rough, soft-hearted guy, your life has changed for the better. Sometimes you didn't know what made Joel Miller love you so much. How did you deserve such a man? He was tough and brutal on the outside with other people, but in the privacy of your apartment, he treated you like a princess. And he hated it when you said you were "broken." Then he would immediately silence you with a kiss, cup your cheeks and look at you with those brown eyes: "Shhh, sweetheart. You're perfect. If any one of us is broken, it's me and only me."

Nothing in the world would make him leave you. Though sometimes you would that he to leave you.

You loved him like no one else in the world, but when you saw how he risked it to get you medicine, your heart broke. Every time you wiped the blood from his face, when you massaged his tense back when you waited for him to come home, when he left the quarantine zone.

Sometimes you've wondered if, for his sake, you shouldn't rejected him. Tell him he's too old for you, that you don't love him. You would hurt him for his own good.

But the selfish part of you couldn't do that. Because you've never been as happy with anyone as you have been with Joel. There were good days, weeks, and even months when you didn't have a seizure.

And there were days when Joel would throw you on the bed and cover your naked body with kisses. And you let him whisper in your ear all the dirty things he could think of. You screamed his name as his head was between your legs and his tongue worked wonders on your clit.

You tugged at his hair and kissed him deeply, letting him know that he was the sexiest man in the whole fucked up world. You praised his cock and laughed at the soft pink that covered his cheeks. Your man was so insecure at times, and you always made sure he knew how wonderful he was.

Maybe that's why he loved you?                                                         

But why did he also love you during the attacks? That was definitely the shitty part of your relationship. There was absolutely nothing romantic about the attacks. It was awful and embarrassing. And yet, Joel always made sure he gave you as much comfort and love as possible after the attack.

So it was also this time.

You had such a good day. Somehow Joel managed to get some chocolate and you decided to make chocolate chip cookies. The whole apartment smelled wonderful, soft music played on the radio. Joel was sitting on the couch impatiently waiting for his sweets. And then it happened.

You just felt your whole body tense up. Anxiety gripped you. You started to be afraid, even though there was no reason to be afraid. A slight numbness in the hand was the final signal. You only managed to moan, "Jo..."

You couldn't remember the rest.

*

Joel jumped off the couch but didn't catch you in time. Your limp body hit the floor with a thud. You had convulsions that shook your body. Joel knelt behind your head, holding it gently. Just so you don't hit yourself too hard. He made sure you didn't choke on your tongue during the attack and spoke to you calmly, "It'll pass soon, baby. I'm here. I won't leave you. Everything will be fine." He knew you couldn't hear him. You once explained to him that you were simply not there during the attack. You felt no pain and heard nothing. Yet he always spoke to you. Maybe because it calmed him down.

After about two minutes, your seizure subsided and Joel couldn't be happier.

*

The first thing you saw was warm brown eyes. You blinked your eyes and looked around. You didn't remember anything and wanted to cry, but then you felt his warm hand on your cheek and heard his soothing voice.

"Y/N, it's me, Joel. Everything's fine now. You're home, you had a seizure."

He gave you a moment to process his words, then asked:

"Can I lift you up?"

You nodded and he carefully took you in his arms and carried you to the bed. He sat you down, making sure you had the right amount of pillows behind your back. He stroked your leg and whispered, "I'll bring you water. I'll be right back."

You slowly came back to yourself. When Joel came back to you, you smiled weakly at him. You were still dazed, but you also wanted to calm him down. No matter how many times Joel told you he was fine. You saw that every attack reflected on him as well.

"Thank you," you whispered as he brought the glass to your lips. "For all."

Joel shook his head and kissed your forehead.

"I always will care for you. You are my love"

You opened your mouth to say something but chose not to. There was no point in explaining to him again that he had no obligation to help you. Joel wouldn't agree with that anyway.

You sat in silence for a few more minutes before Joel said,

"You should take your meds."

You tensed up and grabbed his hand.

"I'll take them later. Sit with me."

Joel rolled his eyes and pecked your nose: "I'll be right back and lay down next to you."

And you already knew you were in trouble. When Joel came back, he had this look on his face that made it clear he wasn't happy. He crossed his arms over his chest and asked.

"Y/N, why are there still so many pills? Last time I checked there were about the same amount of pills." Seeing how sad he made you, he sat next to you and grabbed your hands. "Honey?" His tone of voice was soft again.

You bit your lip and groaned.

"I wanted to save them for later so you don't have to go so fast to get another."

Joel sighed heavily and shook his head.

"But why?"

You could see that he was angry with you, but he tried to hide it.

"Because after the last time, you came back covered in bruises. One day, because of me, you're going to die, Joel!"

Tears started streaming down your face and he pulled you against his strong chest. One of his large hands cupped the back of your head. He kissed your temple and started rocking you gently.

"Shh, it's okay. Calm down. Don't get upset honey. I know you're worried about me, but I'm more worried about you." You felt him squeeze your body tighter, his voice a barely audible whisper. "What if one of the attacks ends in your death? You know it can be. I can't take your loss. I can't go on living without you."

You sighed heavily and started rubbing his back.

"I'm sorry, Joel, but... Sometimes it's so hard for me to accept that you sacrifice so much for me."

Joel pulled back slightly and cupped your face in his large hands.

"Hey, what if I told you I have a plan." You gave him a surprised look. "I'm looking for a better place for us. A place where life is calmer. A place where there's no fucking FEDRA and no fucking Fireflies. A place where you'd have less stress, so fewer attacks." He smiled at you. "How does it sound?"

"Like a fairy tale," you replied.

Joel shifted on the bed so that you could lie down with your head resting on his chest. He started stroking your hair. You were slowly falling asleep. Before you closed your eyes you heard Joel say:

"I will make this fairy tale come true, princess."

*

[run-me-through-but-not-like-that]

Nursed

Summary: When Izzy gets sick, Stede insists he takes some time off. He also insists that you are put in charge of the first mate's care.

Word Count: 3477

Izzy knew that the best thing to do when a member of the crew got sick was to quarantine them, at least to some extent. Ships were prime spaces for viruses to spread and if the whole crew got sick that would be good for nobody. 

That rule hasn’t applied much to Izzy since he became First Mate, though. He was always needed for one thing or another, he couldn’t just take time off because he had the sniffles or a sore throat. He had to just work through it unless it got bad enough to have him unable to move from his cot, that wasn’t very common though.

Why Bonnet had insisted on following this one rule of ship and crew maintenance was beyond him, probably just to irritate Izzy even more than he already does. Izzy had let a few coughs and sneezes slip while he was up on deck, no big deal, but Bonnet had taken notice. Roach had agreed that Izzy was coming down with something, and Bonnet had insisted that Izzy retire to his cabin to sleep it off, to take as much time as he needed until he was feeling better. Of course, Izzy had thought it, but Edward had only backed up his co-captain on the matter.

So, Izzy had stomped down to his cabin while hurling verbal abuse at anyone who he passed just to make himself feel a little bit better. He supposed that if he was going to be trapped in his cabin until he could pass as being perfectly well, he might as well actually try to sleep some of this sickness off.

His short nap was cut even shorter by the sound of somebody knocking at his door. Surely Bonnet had told the whole crew that Izzy was in bed with some terrible illness by now, so maybe if he just stayed quiet the person outside would just go away.

Instead, the door opened. Izzy groaned as he sat up, finding that his head was actually aching a little more now rather than feeling any better. He glared at you, only snarling a little, as you entered his cabin.

“I guess I woke you…” you observed, at least looking a little guilty about it. “Didn’t think you’d actually go to sleep. Thought you’d just pace around until you passed out or something,” you didn’t look at him as you moved further into the room, placing a tray down on his desk.

“Anyway, got some…bad news,” you turned to him, a not so sorry smile on your face.

“If I’m dying, that would actually be a relief,” Izzy huffed. Even when he was sent to his cabin to wallow in his sickness, he couldn’t get a break from this damned crew.

“Ah, nobody’s that lucky, I’m afraid,” you joked, but it actually came out more light than malicious. “Stede has assigned me to nurse you back to health,” you finally informed him.

Izzy blinked at you like you had just spoken some other language he wasn’t familiar with. “What?”

“Best to only have one person coming to see you, reduce the risk of contamination and all that. Since I help Roach with the medical stuff around here, Stede thought it would be for the best,” you explained.

“Fucking hell,” Izzy sighed, massaging the bridge of his nose. His head was aching more now.

“Took the words right out of my mouth,” you laughed to yourself before stepping to the side, gesturing to the tray on his desk. “Got you a pitcher of water, you really need to keep hydrated, and some broth. Won’t be too heavy on your stomach.”

At least you didn’t bring up the whole ‘Izzy the Spewer’ thing, even if Izzy could tell what you were getting at with the stomach comment. To his surprise, you actually sounded sincere and concerned rather than mocking.

“When did you start feeling sick?” you asked, almost clinically. A little like Roach would ask ‘does that hurt’ when he was poking at a bleeding wound.

“I can take care of myself. Done it plenty of times before.” Izzy wasn’t even sure why he was fighting it, stupid shit seemed to be inevitable on this ship.

“Oh, I’m sure. I bet you worked through it all like the stubborn little creature you are, right?” you rolled your eyes, your tone flat.

“Didn’t have much of a choice,” Izzy muttered.

“Well, you still don’t, now you have to let yourself accept help and be taken care of,” you tutted before repeating your question. “So, when did you start feeling sick?”

“...felt it coming on yesterday.”

“You’re at the beginning of it then. It’s going to get worse before it gets better. Probably just the common cold, nothing to worry about, sure you’ve dealt with worse,” you shrugged slightly. “Drink. Eat. Drink some more. Then get some sleep. Let your body rest and heal,” you advised, “I’ll be back later to check on you, get you some more food and water.”

“Don’t feel obligated,” Izzy grumbled as you headed to the door, unsure if he even wanted you to hear him.

“I’ll see you later. Or not…if you’re asleep, I won’t wake you,” you told him, leaving no room for debate.

And just like that, you were gone.

Despite being frustrated with Bonnet's stupid orders and even more frustrated that you would be popping in and out, Izzy dropped down in the seat at his desk. He ate the broth and drank some water before dragging himself back into bed, suddenly feeling incredibly tired.

Just as you said you would, you dropped by his cabin later on to check on him. To your surprise, he was actually sleeping. Even more surprisingly, he actually looked somewhat peaceful, not as grumpy as he usually is. 

Maybe it was silly, but you couldn’t help but smile a little at the sight.

You placed the fresh pitcher of water and some leftover biscuits, in case he got hungry, down on his desk.

Silently, you stepped over to Izzy’s cot and carefully fixed the blanket over his frame. He must have kicked it off of himself a little in his sleep. Izzy hummed and nuzzled into his pillow, you bit back a small laugh. Wasn’t that just adorable? You dug a cloth out of your pocket and wiped away the slight sheen of sweat over his brow before returning to his desk.

With your job done, you gathered up the dirty dishes and left the cabin. You walked into the galley, dropping the dishes down by the sink.

“How’s the patient?” Roach asked. He had been very vocal about how pleased he was that Stede had assigned you to watch over Izzy and not him.

“Sleeping,” you told him, “think he’s getting a fever.” 

“Better you than me, I’d probably just tie him down to the bed and force feed him until he’s better,” Roach mused. He was a surprisingly talented medic but not always the most patient one. If his patient didn’t want help, they wouldn’t be getting it.

“Kinky,” you wiggled your brows at him before turning back to the dishes. “Let’s just hope the fever makes him easier to handle.”

You checked in on Izzy again before you headed to bed. He was sleeping again but there was less water and fewer biscuits than what you had left earlier, so you took that as a win. You would stop by before breakfast, make sure he wasn’t going without anything.

-

The next morning you checked in on Izzy, expecting to find him still in bed, but instead he was sitting on the edge of his cot. His clothes sat beside him, pants in hand. It looked like he had started to get dressed but had to sit down before really even starting.

He looked frustrated with himself but he clearly wasn’t well, his face pale and his shoulders slumped.

“Are you seriously trying to get up?” you asked with a huff, like you just couldn’t believe what you were seeing. You absolutely could believe that Izzy Hands was trying to get back to work when he was hitting the worst of his illness. 

“I’m fine,” Izzy insisted, cringing at how rough his own voice sounded.

“That’s a blatant fucking lie,” you rolled your eyes. “C’mon, back in bed,” you were in front of him in an instant, pulling the leather pants out of his hands. You folded his clothes neatly and placed them on top of the chest at the bottom of his bed.

Izzy just watched as you moved around his cabin, vaguely pleased that you had neatly handled his clothes, as ridiculous as that may be. Then you were returning to him, a hand on his shoulder as you got him to lay down and pulled his blanket over him. He protested and weakly thought but before he knew it, he was back in his bed.

“Too warm,” Izzy complained, trying to push the blanket off of him again.

“It’s your fever. Don’t kick it off, okay?” your voice was surprisingly soothing as you spoke, like you really wanted him to understand and not just do as you said because you said it. “I’ll get some stuff for you in a minute,” you assured, tucking the blanket back into place.

“Are you up for eating?” you asked, stepping back. Izzy just shrugged, feeling completely out of his element. “I’ll get you something small,” you decided with a small nod. “Want some medication?”

“No,” Izzy answered. You just nodded, not pushing him on the matter.

“I’ll be back in a minute,” you promised before gathering up the dirty dishes and dipping out of the cabin.

When you returned again a few minutes later, it was with another tray of items.

Izzy grumpily sat up and let you give him what you brought for him. You got him to drink a full cup of water and then helped him eat a few spoonfuls of soup. He blushed the whole time at the fussing and protesting that he could manage himself, but you just shushed him and did your job.

Izzy drank some more and lay down properly again. You placed a cool damp cloth over his forehead, making him comfortable before telling him to get some sleep. He surprised himself by actually falling asleep, unable to fight his heavy eyelids.

This time, as he slept, you stayed. Sitting by his bedside so you could keep replacing the cloth and keep his temperature down.

You had to pop out of the cabin every now and again throughout the day to tend to other things but you would always return to care for Izzy, even if he fought you every step of the way.

-

On the third day, Izzy’s fever seemed to reach its peak. Which you hoped meant it would start getting better soon.

He ate very little that day but you managed to force him to drink whenever he woke up. When you had been asked to nurse Izzy a little, you had completely planned on giving him plenty of space and time alone since he seemed to enjoy it so much, but that day you barely left his side.

While he slept, you were sitting beside him, rinsing and replacing the cloth on his forehead to help keep him cool.

Your silent routine was interrupted by a quiet whine. You paused, frowning down at the sleeping first mate. He whined again, his brow pinching slightly.

“Shush, just gotta get through the worst of it,” you attempted to soothe him, even if he couldn’t hear you.

Izzy’s face scrunched up as he began to writhe on his cot, like he was having a nightmare of some sort. It was probably a symptom of his fever, or at least worsened by it.

“You’re alright, Iz. Just a bad dream, I’ve got you,” you continued to talk sweet nonsense until he calmed. He hummed slightly when you ran your fingers through his dirty hair, so you continued, happy that it was soothing him.

You smiled as he settled. “There we go, just sleep it off,” you whispered. Izzy let out a small sigh, slipping back into a dreamless sleep.

With a sigh, you stood and began tidying up again. You couldn’t sit around watching Izzy sleep all day, especially when he would most likely be perfectly fine, but you found yourself not really wanting to leave him.

-

The fourth day came around after you managed to pull yourself away from his side to get some sleep. Of course, the first thing you did was grab some food from the galley and went to see Izzy. He was laying on his cot, awake but not looking happy in the slightest. At least he wasn’t trying to get back to work this time.

“Still feeling shitty, huh?” you asked.

“You tell me,” Izzy muttered.

For some reason you felt fond about his grouchiness. “Alright, I brought some brekkie. Hungry?”

Izzy eyed the bowl in your hands. “...could eat…”

You insisted on spoon feeding him even when he fought it. He eventually allowed it, grumbling with each bite he took. The broth was good though, soothing his throat, clearing his sinuses, and warming his belly.

“Ate more than yesterday, that’s good,” you acknowledged.

As you placed the bowl down, Izzy actually asked for something. “Water?”

“Look at that, asking for things, accepting help. You’re growing, doing so well.” You were teasing, of course you were teasing, just joking around. Still, he couldn’t help the way he flushed at the praise. What the fuck? He only asked for some water.

You poured him a cup of water and handed it over without another comment. “If you finish the full cup and I’ll leave you alone until lunch,” you promised.

“If that’s all it takes,” Izzy huffed, bringing the cup up to his mouth.

“Ah, you like me. You haven’t even threatened to stab me once,” you teased.

Izzy distracted himself by finishing the drink, letting you take the cup back once it was empty. He really didn’t need all this doting, and surely he could fight it a little more…

“And we say…” you prompted.

“Fuck off.”

“Come on, Izzy. Say it and I’ll bring an extra treat with lunch.”

“Fucking-” Izzy sighed, knowing you wouldn’t drop this. You had probably earnt it at this point anyway. “Thank you.”

“See, not so difficult,” you smiled, seemingly pleased with him, before pressing a kiss to his temple.

Izzy froze but you didn’t pay it any mind, you just went about tidying up like you always do and headed for the door. “Get some rest. Feel better soon, Iz,” you left him with another sincere smile.

-

You returned to Izzy’s cabin later on that day. “How are you feeling?”

“Better. Can I fucking move now?” Izzy glared at you. He was probably going a little crazy locked up in his cabin for the last few days, and you couldn’t really blame him.

“Nope, not until you’re back in perfect health. Captain’s rules,” you at least looked a little apologetic, “maybe tomorrow, though.”

“Got you some broth,” of course, you had your tray with you, “Roach is making stew for dinner today, think you’re up for that?” 

Izzy huffed and rolled his eyes. “Just some fucking stew.” 

“Izzy, work with me here. Don’t want to give you anything that upsets your stomach,” you sighed, something about it a little pleading.

You were right, he supposed. You only wanted to help, even if Bonnet had fucking ordered you to. “...yeah…stew will be fine,” he gave in.

“Good,” you smiled, bright and genuine again.

You let him feed himself this time, since this time you sat and ate with him. Letting him have half of your orange.

“Since you’re feeling better and not sleeping through the whole day, do you want me to bring you anything for entertainment?” you asked but Izzy just raised an eyebrow at you. “I dunno, like a book or something?” you weren’t even sure if he could read, you had seen him working on the logs but that was a little different.

“I could get Frenchie to sit outside your door and play some songs,” you suggested.

“A book is fine,” Izzy answered quickly before begrudgingly adding, “nothing boring.”

“It will be the most exhilarating book you’ve ever read,” you winked playfully.

-

Since lunch had gone so well, at least in your opinion, you had decided to eat your dinner with Izzy as well. Plus, he was more cognizant than he was yesterday and you thought the company would be good for him even if he didn’t much care for it.

“Aren’t you worried about getting sick? I mean, you don’t have to eat with me,” Izzy eventually questioned after eating in silence.

“Don’t want you to be all isolated and lonely in here. I’ll take the risk,” you shrugged, sounding honest enough. “You’ll just have to nurse me back to health like I have so kindly done for you,” you teased.

“In your fucking dreams,” Izzy scoffed. He was a first mate, not a nurse.

“I bet you’d be the most effective nurse ever, very practical. Terrible bedside manner, though,” you thought out loud, hearing Izzy’s quiet snort of amusement. “Bet you’d just tell the illness to fuck off and it would.”

“Huh, haven’t tried that yet,” he muttered.

“Wouldn’t work on yourself. Bet your illnesses are just stubborn as you are,” you hummed thoughtfully.

At that, Izzy smiled a little to himself. He had to admit that this is kinda…nice.

“Think you’ll be back up on deck soon?” you asked.

“Could have been up there today but you’d snitch to Bonnet,” Izzy shot a halfhearted glare your way. 

“Damn right I would. You need to get fully better or you’re just going to make it worse again,” you chastised. “But maybe the next couple of days, maybe even tomorrow.”

“Thank fuck,” Izzy seemed genuinely relieved. You’ve never met somebody so reluctant to take a break, especially when they obviously needed one.

“That means you need to be caught up on what’s going on up there,” your eyes brightened at the realisation.

“Bet it’s not piracy,” Izzy scoffed.

“I’d say you won that bet, but I have no coin to give you,” you rolled your eyes fondly. “Anyway, here’s everything that has happened since you got sentenced to your cabin…”

You went on to tell him about all of the inane things the crew had gotten up too over the last few days, even going into depth about the most mundane things.

Izzy truly didn’t care about the stupid conversations the crew was having over dinner in the galley, but he found himself listening anyway. Admittedly, he lost the actual words every now and again when he really lost interest in the story, but he still found your voice soothing. Even if he couldn’t recall everything you said, a part of him didn’t want you to stop. He could just finish his stew to the soothing sound of your company.

-

On the fifth day, you might have even said that Izzy seemed excited to see you. As soon as you stepped into the cabin, Izzy perked up. “Thank fuck you’re here.”

“Wow, you’re happy to see me…did you fall out of bed and hit your head?” you squinted in suspicion. 

“No,” Izzy huffed. “No, I’m feeling better. I can be…discharged or whatever the fuck,” he insisted.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” you tutted.

“Which is why I’m glad you’ve shown up already,” he rolled his eyes.

“I’m right on time!” 

“Just get on with it!”

“Careful or I’m going to tell Stede you need a few more days bedrest,” you warned sternly, earning a small grumble from Izzy.

You gave him a quick check over, making sure his temperature was back to normal, that the colour had returned to his face. Asked how his throat felt, how tired he was, even though you knew he would most likely lie about anything he could. You had to admit, he did seem a lot better.

“Alright, first mate Hands, I think you’re good to get back to work,” you announced/ “But take it easy. First sniffle or clearing of your throat, as I’m dragging you back down here,” you warned.

“Fine. Now fuck off,” Izzy huffed, waving his hand to dismiss you.

“...I still brought breakfast…might as well eat before heading up,” you reasoned, gesturing towards the tray on his desk. Two servings of porridge that Roach had prepared for the crew this morning. 

“Yeah. Fine, alright,” Izzy accepted the breakfast, not complaining when you sat with him to eat together. “...thanks,” he whispered, his gratitude unprompted and sincere this time, making you smile as you ate another spoonful.

[miguelswifey04]

I JUST GOT THE MOST ANGSTY IDEA WITH MIGUEL AND I HAD TO TELL YOU

So, Reader is usually a happy person but not super bubbly yk? But reader loved Miguel, And Miguel loved them too. But they were both to scared to do so, and they didn’t confess. But as time went on Reader just lost the love they felt for Miguel. And they became distant with Miguel and Miguel instantly notices.

After a few days he asks reader what’s up with them and why are they ignoring him, and reader just says “I don’t think I love you anymore” and it just crushes Miguel heart knowing that they could’ve of been a couple if only he just confessed earlier.

(Poot Miguel omg)

YOU ARE KILLING MEEEE BC THIS HAPPENED TO ME DURING QUARANTINE BEFORE I MET MY BF 😭

miguel o’hara x gn! reader (angst)

summary: neither of you were courageous enough to confess to each other about your true feelings. now, you’re the one who’s starting to move on yet miguel is still latched onto you. it’ll hurt him more than it’ll hurt you to tell him you don’t love him the same anymore.

though miguel wished he could have said something before, he didn’t. miguel was never one to be outright about his feelings nor was he confident in himself. he’d always second guess himself because he felt as if anything good that happened in his life would soon disappear. he loved you more than anything and so did you. it was possible you loved him more than he loved you. though, miguel later on fell harder for you as you began to lose feelings for him.

as the days passed and your feelings for miguel began to fade, a heaviness settled in your heart. it wasn't an instant realization; it was a slow, gradual decline that left you feeling confused and distant. you had enough. you thought your feelings weren’t being reciprocated but you and him were idiotic enough to never tell each other how you truly felt.

miguel couldn't help but notice the change in your behavior. concerned, he approached you, seeking answers for your sudden distance. you’d always be glued by his side and not once would he brush you away. you were truly his other half but things somehow always change. a heavy silence hung in the air before you mustered the courage to speak.

“i don't think i love you anymore," you finally confessed, the words agonizingly heavy on your tongue. it was a painful admission, one that shattered miguel’s heart. the way you could see the color drain out of his body and the way his tensed shoulders instantly slumped down.

time seemed to stand still in that moment as miguel’s expression shifted from confusion to sadness. the weight of missed opportunities and unspoken feelings settled in his chest, leaving him feeling regretful and broken.

miguel’s voice was barely a whisper as he responded, "i...i wish i had told you how i felt sooner. maybe things could have been different." your eyes welled up with tears, a mix of sorrow and regret. "i wish we had been honest with each other. maybe we could have been something more."

in that moment, the weight of unrequited love and missed chances hung heavy in the air. both you and miguel knew you had been too afraid to take that leap, to confess your feelings and embrace the possibility of something beautiful. now, the opportunity had slipped through your fingers. you shared a moment, your hearts heavy with what could have been. it was a bittersweet acknowledgement of the love that had slowly faded, leaving you with the ache of unfulfilled potential. though your paths had diverged, you and miguel would forever carry the memory of what could have been. you learned the importance of taking chances, of opening up you hearts to the possibility of love. and through this painful experience, you found the strength to be honest with yourselves and others, even if it came with heartache.

now, you had finally moved on, but, for miguel he couldn’t find the strength in him to move on from you. you were his everything and all that he could have ever wanted in his life. but at last things don’t seem to turn out the way miguel had wanted too.

tags 🏷️!! @kairiscorner @astro1bloom @obi-mom-kenobi @sabcandoit @meeom @emiemiemiii

[misc-obeyme]

I’m sorry but this vampire event is so good??? I love it???????

Spoilers & such below the cut!

I was a little confused at first because I really thought the side characters would be turning into vampires, but the bros were the only ones that did. But! I actually liked it this way lol.

Some events are pretty underwhelming while others are just okay, but every once in a while we get a really good one. This varies for other people of course depending on faves and what not. But I thought this was a really good event.

I loooooved that we got to spend most of the time with the side characters. I love them all so much.

Not gonna lie, though, I did get some real life 2020 flashbacks due to the whole quarantine and pandemic stuff.

Like I wish I’d been this delusional in 2020.

But what I don’t understand is why Satan got sick? They said it only affected fallen angels, right? And yet Satan got infected? My guess is this was just easier than having him be the only brother who was immune. I’m not gonna read into that lol.

I also enjoyed how the shorter end route was just humorous while the longer end route was more involved.

I mean what’s an Obey Me event without the usual brotherly nonsense right?

This whole part was just too funny.

But then in the longer route, things get more intense. The way MC works together with all the side characters to handle the brothers and stop the virus… that was pretty epic! And then the little chat with Diavolo and then Solomon just having a whole conversation about biting you.

Yeah and then we get to say we want him to bite us and he’s all well I don’t want to hurt you… and like okay that’s sweet and all, but that’s kind of the point Solomon! You can’t just say something like that and then back out!

I also loved how much Luke content we got… our son is so cute!

Yes because feeding the brothers garlic meat pies that Solomon made is being nice about it lol.

And oooohhhh this line was so coooool. I would think Barbatos is the only one other than perhaps Diavolo who could actually take on Lucifer. And he does it with a smile lol.

I’m also a little curious about all this talk of actual vampires in the Devildom and how Diavolo wants to be friends with them. Is this something that’s event specific or is this relevant to the overall story? It feels event specific but it’s interesting to think about how something like that could change things.

Anyway, I haven’t felt compelled to write a post about an event in a while, but I really liked this one!

[unseemingowl]

"About the Blogger" Meme

@all-inmoderation tagged me. I haven't done one of these in ages, so this was fun. Thank you .D

Star Sign(s): Libra (don't ask me about rising and all that stuff, I know nothing about Astrology)

Favorite Holidays: Christmas, I love the cosiness.

Last Meal: Fries from the new kebab place around the corner. Had a craving, but they were sadly a bit underwhelming. Nothing more disappointing food item than underwhelming fries.

Current Favorite Musician: Been listening to a lot of Alabama Shakes this weekend. The intro to Sound and Color is just sooo fucking good.

Last Music Listened To: The spotify playlist called Indie Rock Club, which turned out to be all of the music I listened to in my late teens and early twenties. Ripped me right back to that time. Wild.

Last Movie Watched: Wow, Piggy was the last movie I watched, I really need to have a new years resolution to watch more movies. Piggy is fucking excellent though. Loved it, loved it, loved it. Go watch it.

Last TV Show Watched: I'm in the middle of rewatching Babylon Berlin in order to watch season 4 and 5. All doom and glitter and the party and depravity that never ends, and Charlotte and Gereon are such engaging and complicated lead characters. Still love it.

Also watching season 2 of World on Fire, which is a fine show, though not nearly as good. But it does have Jonah Hauer King in it though, and I am a simple woman, let me watch that man having an existential crisis and I'm THERE. He looks SO handsome when he doesn't know what's going on, lol.

Last Book/Fic Finished: I've been struck hard by project moving, so I've mostly been listening to Agatha Christie audiobooks. The last time I moved, I moved into a single room, and by the time I moved was living in the apartment by myself along with all the new stuff I've acquired. It's been hellish. So cosy mysteries it is.

Last Book/Fic Abandoned: I was reading a biography on Robert the Bruce that I abandoned once project moving started up and I stopped having the bandwidth for anything too complicated.

Currently Reading: Klara and the Sun by Kazuo Ishiguro, excellent so far, which is not surprising, since I've loved all of his books that I've read.

Last Thing Researched for Art/Writing/Hyperfixation: Waltzing in the 19th century.

Favorite Online Fandom Memory: The buck wild hour long quarantine era chats with the Nabrina crowd in the discord.

Favorite Old Fandom You Wish Would Drag You Back In/Have A Resurgence: CAOS I guess? The Nabrina fandom is still one of the least toxic ones I've ever been in, at least the little corner that I was in.

I'm counting on a Batcat fandom resurgence once the next Battinson movie comes out in like 500 years (sob!)

Favorite Thing You Enjoy That Never Had an Active or Big "Fandom" but You Wish It Did: Oh so many things. Fandom culture is brutal these days because people are moving on so fast. Like the Little Mermaid came out this spring and it seems mostly dead already. Or perhaps people are just in other places that tumblr?

Tempting Project You're Trying to Rein In/Don't Have Time For: Everything? Lol. Between trying to paint my new flat and christmas and some family stuff going on it feels like I don't have time for anything at all right now. Including the self-indulgent smut fic that I'm writing for the Little Mermaid at the moment. But that smut fic is my happy place at the moment, so I must persist!

tagging @robertdeniroimdb @bugsysiegels @raxiesrot @gothamsgaygirlgang @imaginejolls @deadgirlsupremacy @sweet-reverie along with anyone else who'd like to have a go

[poem-today]

A poem by Brian Brodeur

THE CARPENTER'S TALE

There's going to be an accounting. And it'll be the weird stats that come out of somewhere. And this is one of the stranger ones.

—Kerry Breen, This American Life, 8/13/2021

Most of us laughed at being called "essential" in those first weeks of New York's quarantine. We'd grease a hinge or patch a rotten sill,

replacing sunk beams under a snack machine, painting classrooms. Though it felt like cheating, I'd never seen the schools look so pristine.

Then, in April, at our team meeting, our boss clears his throat and his voice softens. Putting down the cruller he's been eating,

he says, "Next week, we start building coffins." One of us laughs. Another spills his coffee. I tell my boss, "Get out of here. Build coffins."

He looks up from his clipboard and glares at me, then gives us all the plans his boss gave him: "We'll be building coffins for the city."

On Monday, I show up at this school gym outfitted as a shop. On cinderblocks, beside the bleachers with the lights turned dim,

our prototype: a six-foot plywood box standing on its end where the feet would be. Above the prototype and scoreboard clocks,

a championship banner's "Victory" had begun to sag where flags of UN nations cling to the ceiling. Under Germany,

we set up cutting and assembly stations, a place where we can urethane the boards. Electricians rig fans for ventilation

and 10 of us plug in extension cords. We stack up drafts of plywood on the floor— a draft is 50 sheets. Our only words

concern the lack of Mets and Yankees scores, how hot the gym gets, who brought Gatorade. We run through 2x4s and they bring more—

wash, rinse, repeat. I mean, we're getting paid, but after so long it occurs to me: My god, they really need this many made?

No one gives us an end. We build 150, stacking them from one side of the gym to the other, five coffins high—no one can see

above the shrink-wrapped freight pallets of them. I back the forklift into the elevator and drive down Concourse near the stadium

and down another street to a tractor trailer. The forklift's so slow people honk at me. Honk at a guy carrying coffins—or

scream at me to move. This goes on three weeks. I find it—I don't know—bizarre, I guess, not one person ever stops to ask me

what I'm doing, everyone obsessed with toilet paper. Then, passing on foot, a guy who speaks Spanish stops to zip his vest 

and says, "Morte," finger-slicing his throat. "Sí," I say, and he just shakes his head and walks away. I slam the trailer shut.

Our team built 450 in the end, and there were other teams in other districts across the whole Department of Ed.

No one I tell has ever heard of this. Why would they? Not exactly good PR— Guess what we used schools for. You'll never guess. …

But now that things are waning, more and more I feel alright, like I can let it out. It wasn't war—if it had been a war

we'd know what happened, what it was about, how much we'd lost, what people did out there. I'm sure someone will make a final count,

and we'll deal with each last expenditure, but that's years off, and this is not a war.

Brian Brodeur

More poems by Brian Brodeur are available through his website.

[sergeantsporks]

Writing request: Since the hexsqad have never been exposed to any human sicknesses before, and therefore have no immunity against any of them, I think it would be funny to see at least one of them get sick the first time anyone sneezes near them. It’d also be fun to see how the biology of a witch handles a human sickness. 

“Mmmmmmmmmmmmmyaaaayyyyyy, you’re here!!!” Willow grabbed for Hunter’s hand as he passed by the couch. “Your hair is getting so looooong, Amity can braid it and we can match!”

Luz batted Willow’s hands away. “Ah, ah, no. You are sick. No touchy, you’ll get him sick, too.”

“I’ve never had a sick day in my life,” Hunter scoffed. He kept Luz between himself and Willow, though, peering over her shoulder at the sick witch on the couch. “What’s wrong with her?”

“As far as I can tell? A cold.”

“You mean a mold?”

“Nope. Here in the human realm, we have colds. They’re minor, just a lot of coughing and sneezing, but Willow’s gone down bad. Probably because she’s never had one before. The rest of you should probably steer clear of her.”

“I can help. Like I said, I don’t get sick.”

“I’m not going to risk it. I didn’t have a cold, which means Willow caught it from only a few seconds of contact. Now scr—”

Willow let out an explosive sneeze, and droplets splattered Luz.

Luz jumped back, right onto Hunter’s toes. “Ew!”

“Ow!” Hunter skipped backwards, yanking his feet out from under Luz’s heels. “Is it dangerous? Is that why you’re so keen to avoid it?”

“No, but it’s a pain, and it’s still gross.” Luz squinted at him. “Although I guess someone who licked my hand wouldn’t really think so.”

“I built up my immune system and my resistance to poisons by licking things I shouldn’t,” Hunter responded serenely, “I’ll be fine.”

Xxx

Gus cannoned into Luz, grabbing her arm. “Luuuuuuzzzzzzz, I think Hunter’s dead!”

“What?! What do you mean, Gus?!”

“He was still asleep when I woke up! It’s, like, eight o clock!”

“That’s a totally normal time to wake up, Gus.”

“When was the last time you got up and Hunter wasn’t already awake?”

“Fair enough. Stay up here, I’ll check in on him.”

Luz traipsed down the stairs to the basement and shook Hunter’s shoulder. “Hey? You okay?”

A raspy snore that broke off into a cough was his response.

Luz shook him again. “Hunter!”

“Wha?” he grumbled, swatting her hand, “Go ‘way.” He sneezed. “Lemme alone.”

“Uh-oh. So much for never getting sick, huh?”

“’m not sick. I’m just—” another explosive sneeze. “…tired.”

“Uh-huh. You stay down here, buddy, I’ll get you a waterbottle and a box of tissues.”

Luz traipsed back up the stairs. “He’s down for the count. Alrighty, let’s get this contained! I’m moving Willow to the basement, and you and Amity are not to go down there.”

Amity looked poked her head into the living room. “Is that a good idea? Having a sick Willow and Hunter in the same area? Willow tried to kiss my face with her germy lips last night, what if they team up on us?”

“Ah, I don’t think it’ll be too bad. Hunter’s sleepy sick, Willow would have a hard time rousing him to turn on us. But maybe you could create an abomination to keep an eye on them? Like you did for me when I had the mold!”

“Yeah. Yeah, I can do that.”

“Thanks, Amity. And I’m sure Flapjack and Clover will help us, too. Okay, you and Gus go outside, I’m going to get Willow into quarantine.”

Luz thumped up the stairs. Willow was in the bathroom, making a bunch of succulents on the windowsill grow. “Heeeeyyyy, Willow.”

“Luz!” Willow exclaimed in delight, “You’re here!”

“Haha, yep, I sure am! Hey, do you want to go downstairs? To the basement? And stay down there?”

“Mmmmmmm…”

“C’mon,” Luz coaxed, “You can, uhhhhh look for old school yearbooks and laugh at everyone’s horrible school pictures! Hunter’s down there, it’ll be like a little party!”

“Haha, Hunter at a party. He’d look funny in one of those little hats.”

“Yeaaaah, he probably would. Come on.” Luz slowly backed out of the bathroom, beckoning to Willow. To her relief, Willow followed. “Theeeere we go. Good Willow. That’s it.”

Luz led her down to the basement, where she immediately shook Hunter. “Hey! Sun’s up, time to start photosynthesizing, sleepy!”

He grumbled something unintelligible, then wiggled around in his sleeping bag until his feet were sticking out of the head of it and his face was down at the bottom, where Willow couldn’t reach him. Willow, for her part, watched the whole process in awe.

“He’s going to turn into a butterfly,” she whispered.

“No—okay, hey, you’re going to suffocate in there.” Luz unzipped the sleeping bag, exposing Hunter’s face to the air. He grabbed the flap of the sleeping bag, yanking it back over himself, and Luz left it. As long as there was still a way for air to get in. She glanced around to see Willow already halfway up the stairs, and she ran up, ducking around Willow to bar her way. “No! You need to stay down here!”

“Awwwwwwwww…”

“Iiiiiiiiiiiiuuuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhhhhh I need you to help me take care of Hunter, Willow, he’s not feeling good.”

Willow sniffed and coughed. “Aww. Poor Hunter.”

“Amity’s going to send down an abomination to help, just make sure he drinks lots of water. Uh—don’t make him, though, just tell him to do it a lot, okay?”

“Okayyyyyyy. Before or after he turns into a butterfly?”

“Uhhhhhhhhhhhh… before? You’re going to do great, just make sure he and you stay down here, okay, byeeeeeeeee!”

Luz raced up the stairs, washing her hands and opening the door. “Okay. We should be good.”

Amity created an abomination, and it took two waterbottles and a box of tissues down into the basement.

“Dooooo abominations get sick?”

“I don’t think so?”

The abomination came back up, walking towards the trashcan. Its face seized up, twitching, and Amity approached it. “Whoa, they’ve never done this before, I don’t kno—”

The abomination’s face exploded outwards all over Amity.

“Did it just sneeze?!” Luz yelped.

“I think it just sneezed! This is ridicu—oh, Luz. Oh, Luz, no. No, if it got sick from Willow and Gus, that means—that means—”

“You’re not sick yet,” Luz pleaded, “It could have been—you’re not sick yet!”

Amity gently cupped Luz’s face in her hands. “Batata. You know what has to be done. I have to go down there. I have to quarantine.”

“No, Amity, if you’re not sick now, you will be for sure if you’re near them!”

“And if I’m sick now, I’ll get Gus sick. Or you.” Amity smoothed back a lock of Luz’s hair. “I have to do this. For Gus. I’ll live. Just… make sure there’s plenty of tissues and water?”

“Okay. Okay, I’ll make sure.” Luz got another waterbottle for Amity and walked her to the basement stairs. Willow’s giggle, and Hunter’s congested snores floated up, and Amity gulped. She gave Luz’s hand a squeeze, then squared her shoulders and marched down.

“So brave,” Gus sniffed from the kitchen, “So noble.”

“Gus?!”

“Don’t worry, I wasn’t near the exploding abomination.”

Luz washed her hands again, and made her way to the fridge. “I’m going to try to make some soup. Maybe some tea.”

“Can I help?”

Luz hissed in, thinking about the mustard ravioli that had been his last attempt at cooking. “How about you make the tea? But wait a bit.”

“Okay!”

Luz chopped vegetables and simmered them in broth on the stove, occasionally rolling a full waterbottle down to the basement. It was always gone from the foot of the stairs by the time she looked again.

At least they’re hydrating.

I hope so, anyway, and it isn’t just Willow pouring them on Amity and Hunter’s feet so that they can grow.

Luz turned the stove off and ladled the soup into three bowls. “I’m going in.”

Gus snapped a salute. “Godspeed, good Luz,” he said gravely, “If you don’t come out, I will remember you.”

Luz gulped, heading down the stairs. Willow met her at the base. “Hey, Luz,” she mumbled through a stuffed nose, “Feeling pretty bad.”

Luz handed her a bowl. “At least you’re not loopy anymore?”

“Uuuuugh…”

Hunter was still passed out in his sleeping bag, snoring and occasionally coughing. “Wow. I’m starting to wonder if he just thinks he’s never been sick because he sleeps through the whole thing.” Luz shook his shoulder. “Heeeeey, Hunter. You need to eat something.”

He blearily sat up, his hair flat against one side of his head and then sticking up in a horrendous cowlick. He accepted the bowl, drained it in about three seconds flat, scarfed down the vegetables, then flopped back down, pulling the sleeping bag over his head.

“And where’s…”

Amity was nowhere to be seen. The boxes in the basement had been carefully arranged in alphabetical order, and boxes with the same label were stacked from largest to smallest.

Amity’s head poked out from a pile of stuff that hadn’t been in a box. “Hi.”

Luz wandered towards her as Hunter started to snore again. “Did you do all this?”

“Yep,” Amity coughed, “It was messy down here. I fixed it. Trying to figure out how to organize all of this other stuff, though. I mean!” she tried stacking a statue of a dog on top of a beach ball, and it slid off. “What am I supposed to do?!”

Luz handed her a bowl. “Take a break, sweet potato. Is everyone staying hydrated?”

“Oh, yeah,” Willow piped up, “Amity is enforcing a rigorous hydration schedule.” She blew her nose and tossed the tissue towards a small trashcan.

It was incinerated by a blast of purple flame before it even hit the downward part of its arc. Amity narrowed her eyes at the space where the offending tissue had been. “No more sickness,” she growled, then sneezed. “AUGH!”

Luz nudged her shoulder. “It’s okay to be sick, Amity. I’ll come back down in a bit, okay?”

She trudged back up the stairs, collecting Hunter’s bowl on the way up. “Whoof.”

“They okay down there?”

“I think Willow’s pulled through the worst of it, but she’ll be stuffed up for a while. Hunter’s still asleep. And I think if we unleased a sick Amity on the Collector, she’d have him doing her bidding before the week was out.”

Gus hissed in, making a face. “Uh, Luz?” He pointed behind her. “Hunter’s up.”

Luz turned around to see Hunter shuffling towards her. “Ohhhh no you don’t. Go back down there, mister.”

“I’m fine, Luz,” he mumbled, “I told you, I’m just ti—I’m just ti—I’m ti—choo!”

He sneezed, and Luz yelped. “Hunter, NO!”

Gus gasped behind her. “It’s too late, Luz. I’ve been hit! I’m down!”

Hunter sniffed. “…Okay. I might, maybe be just a little bit sick. Sorry, Gus.”

Luz sighed. “Guess there’s no point in keeping you guys quarantined anymore.”

Gus shuffled down the stairs. “Oh, misery.” His eyes were already starting to glaze over, and he flopped on the couch with a sigh. “Just leave me. Bring me… some delicious soup.”

“I will. Don’t die.”

“No promises.”

“Augustus is a drama queen when he’s sick,” Willow informed her, “Be prepared for the performance of a lifetime.”

Luz shook her head, moving the box of tissues closer to Gus. “Can’t wait.”