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auteurdelabre · 30 days

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SO MUCH TO LOSE CHAPTER 11: SNOW

Rating: 18+

words: 15.2k

a/n #1: He's problematic but I love him your honor.

a/n #2: I LOVE Y'ALL for loving this fic! I see your comments and they warm my heart. I get inspired, I start writing the next chapter. I just fuckin love y'all. Please keep up the support here and on my A03.

SERIES MASTERLIST

REBLOGS, COMMENTS, ENGAGEMENT ARE WHAT KEEP US FIC WRITERS GOING. PLEASE REMEMBER THAT IF YOU ENJOYED THIS.

Chapter 11: Snow

It's one of those nights where the weather feels biting and the snow heavy. The kind of weather that urges you to stay indoors and keep warm.

Luke invited you and Jennifer to the Bison for karaoke earlier but you declined, citing you had other plans.

Plans which involve the cup of tea at your elbow, the paperback in your hands and the fire going in the hearth. You feel cozy and warm and are almost drifting off when a knock at the door sounds.

You slip out from under the blanket over your legs, padding over to the door and opening it a crack to see a familiar face.

"Oh, hey Tommy."

The younger Miller comes in, shaking off the flakes from his shoulder. He lets the cold in, taking his time entering your home before closing the door behind him.

"Hey sorry to be callin' so late."

"Oh it's fine," you insist, suppressing a yawn. "You wanna drink?"

"Nah this'll be quick." Tommy sniffles, the end of his nose red from the cold. "S'about patrols."

"Uh huh?"

Tommy looks curiously uncomfortable, like a child who's been forced to apologize for something he feels he's not responsible for.

"I was thinkin' and you don't have'ta do ‘em anymore. I'll find someone to take over your spot if you need."

Tommy's face holds a myriad of expression, concern being the most predominant. Yours however holds nothing but confusion.

"Who?"

"Uh, was thinkin' of that Jennifer girl," Tommy says, hands deep in his coat pocket. He shifts from foot to foot slowly. "She seemed pretty up for it before. Was gonna head over to her place after this and ask her to take over til we find someone new to train."

This feels like a punch in the gut.

Useless.

The word Joel used when you first began. The word you thought you'd outgrown comes back like a sharp slap across the cheek. Your fingernails dig into the wood frame around the door, clinging to it.

The fire crackles dimly in the background, a soundtrack to your humiliation. Tommy can't look you in the eyes now and you have a feeling you know why. It makes you feel small and pathetic.

"Do you..." The words don't come easily, you have to force them. "Do you think I'm not good enough to be on patrols?"

"No," Tommy answers quickly, eyes wide and head shaking vehemently. "No. Not at all. This is just... I know back when you started you said you didn't really wanna do it. Preferred kitchen duty."

"Yeah."

"And we got some new blood in town lately, so I figured, you know..."

They think I'm useless.

Why else would Tommy be offering this? Stories must have gotten around. Maybe Luke said something in passing about you being stuck with window patrol while they did repairs. Maybe Jennifer was worried that you were being treated poorly.

Maybe Joel doesn't want you as his partner anymore.

That seems the most likely and somehow stings the most. A thought skitters across your brain like an unwelcome insect that makes your face grow cloudy.

"Did Joel tell you I'm bad on patrols or something? Is that the real reason you're here?"

"No. Joel never said you were bad on patrols."

If Tommy's lying he's doing a damn good job of it. Still, it feels like he's editing himself, holding something back.

You swallow, feeling a lump forming there. Part of you thinks it would be so easy to give in and agree to stopping. So easy to never have to put up with Joel's snide remarks or the panic you feel outside the gates.

But there is something in the loss of that challenge that frightens you more. Something that feels worse than useless, it feels like cowardice. Something that feels like The Group wins even if they hold no power over you anymore. You suppose that's what motivates you to address Tommy with what you hope sounds like confidence.

"I'd like to continue with them," you say to the ground at his feet. "If that's okay with you."

"You sure?"

You nod, watching an uneasy smile spread across his handsome features. Like he shouldn't be glad about your response but is.

"All right, then. I'll skip my next stop."

He leaves with a wave and you watch him trudging through the snow out the window, your arms coming to wrap around yourself, but not because of the cold.

///

"Focus and aim."

You grit your teeth before narrowing your eyes and focusing all your attention on the empty tin can sitting on the fence. It's cold today, biting, and the scarf you wear wraps around the lower half of your face.

You hold the weapon as you've been training, aiming with not your right eye but your left.

You inhale, your ears pricked at every sound. All the birds chattering in the trees, the wind that blows the faraway sound of the townspeople. Even Jennifer's light breathing behind you. You make it all go quiet.

"Fuck I can't. It's too loud out here."

"Loud?" Jennifer glances around the two of you, completely alone in the field.

"Yeah. Birds, wind, echoes...."

You shift restlessly before bringing the shotgun back up to your eye level. You want to get this right.

"Think of something calming," Jennifer urges, her eyes falling over your face as you focus. "Something that makes everything go quiet."

Something that makes everything go quiet.

Something calm.

Something that quells the frenetic beating of you heart.

Something that gives you that sweet blissful escape.

You try to think of that first sip of tea after a long day. How it mixes with the honey on your tongue, how you savor it. But it's not enough.

You think of the way running water sounds.

The sensation of sunlight on your bare shoulders.

The soft muzzle of Chesnut.

Joel.

His dark eyes meeting yours when you knelt at his feet that last time. When his hand went to your cheek.

That's when everything felt safe and quiet.

Jennifer seems to notice the steadying of your breathing because she nods approvingly as you let out a slow exhale.

"Now shoot."

You don’t want to think of Joel. He can’t be your safe thought. You force your mind to think of something else.

Making pastries with Ellie.

The sound Chestnut makes when he eats carrots.

Your sisters smile.

You pull the trigger, feeling as the weapon kicks back against your braced shoulder. The sound of the blast makes you wince.

The can doesn't even move a fraction.

"So close!" Jennifer insists, shielding her eyes from the glare of the grey sky on the snow. "It definitely grazed it."

"Won't do much good grazing a clicker," you frown, lowering the weapon. Wind whips stray strands of your hair against your ruddy cheek.

Oh c'mon now," Jennifer says trying to rouse your spirits. "We've been practising for weeks and you're getting so much better."

When Tommy came to offering you the repeat of patrols, you should have taken him up on it. And yet something churned within your guts. Insisted that you continue on with Jennifer's coaching trying to perfect your shooting skills.

Because there is no Chiyo. No protector. No benevolent figure to save you. It's just you now. You and you alone. And months ago the thought would have terrified you into never leaving your home. It would have burst into grateful tears at the thought of being let off the hook.

But something's been changing these last few months, something that gets stronger with every lesson Jennifer gives you, with every gallop atop of Chestnut. Something that whispers: not useless.

You kick at a stray patch of dirty snow, angry at yourself. You want to be better but it's taking so long. You want to feel more confident on patrols but your aim isn't progressing fast enough for you. You want to prove yourself not useless.

"Alright Smiley," Jennifer says slinging a companionable arm around your shoulder. "Let's go have breakfast."

///

Breakfast on cold days is always something warm like eggs or oatmeal with honey. Often there's hot chocolate which you take gratefully between your hands today. You make a note to pack one for patrols in the Thermos you keep at home.

You sit across from Jennifer who is back lit by the morning sun and looks like a goddess. How is Joel not more obvious in his intention for her? He's handsome but he's also at least fifty. He shouldn't be so picky with his personality the way it is.

But then again from what you've seen there's a certain air around Joel wherever he goes. One that has women of all ages smiling shyly and stammering when he's in the vicinity. Once you saw one woman drop an entire bag of yarn when he walked by in town. She didn't notice for a full three minutes.

"So how did baking go with Ellie?"

You're surprised by this question. You'd assumed that the whole baking with Ellie thing was private. You certainly haven't talked about it with anyone.

"Uh, how did-"

"She's going around telling eve ryone at school that she was baking with you," Jennifer laughs. "My friend Rebecca teaches her."

You recall meeting Rebecca a few weeks ago at one of Jennifer's big friendly breakfasts. One where you sat quietly listening to the chatting figures around you, being drawn into the odd conversation but mostly keeping quiet. You never feel quite comfortable around big crowds.

"It was nice," you offer, wrapping your fingers around the warm mug a little tighter.

You have no intention of telling her what actually occurred. You don't want to tell her about the trauma you endured before Jackson City or the pain that Ellie saw reflected in your eyes. Jennifer’s lips curl into a sensuous smile.

"Was Joel there?"

"Yeah, he was around for a bit."

You don't meet her eyes as you say this. And for some reason you don't mention to her that Joel made that second batch of pastries or that he wasn’t rough with how he spoke to you. The whole experience feels too private, too sacred. No matter what, you won't be sharing that information.

"Speaking of which..." Jennifer trails off, nodding her head towards the door of the dining hall. You don't even bother looking over your shoulder; you know that she's referencing Joel.

You try not to look stiff but you are. You're still unsure of how to act around him after everything that happened.

The two of you eat quietly as your mind goes back to that day on Rancher Street. You still don't know how you feel about Joel; you're still perplexed by his actions. One day he hates you the next day he can tolerate you. It's all very confusing and not a little irritating.

"He's staring over here," Jennifer says a short while later, trying not to move her lips when she speaks. "Keeps sneaking looks every few minutes."

You feel a grin spreading over your features as your friend smiles prettily, pretending she doesn't notice her crush. Maybe Joel isn't as thick as you thought and there is hope for the two of them.

Jennifer dabs a bit at the egg on her plate with her toast, her sleeves rolled up to showcase her delicate wrists.

"So, you gonna ask him out?"

"Nah," Jennifer shakes her head before taking a long pull from her coffee mug. "Joel's an old fashioned guy. I can't see him being into that."

It strikes you as humorous that things like old-fashioned men are still a thing. After the world has gone to rot, you're still shocked that certain socially expected norms exist.

"Maybe that's what he needs though," you offer diplomatically. "A kick in the pants from a pretty lady."

"There's plenty else I'd like to do with his pants."

You make a face and the two of you collapse into hushed laughter, tilting over your breakfasts. Jennifer claps a hand over your shoulder in amusement; her laughed ebbing when you flinch at the contact. Her eyes study you a moment before a voice behind you breaks in.

"Mind if I join you two?"

Luke stands looking down at the both of you with a charming smile. His hair is mussed, obviously just woke it up. You're struck with how handsome he is in the early light of the day.

"Course not," you say smiling up at him.

He takes a seat next to Jennifer, his thick-lashed eyes on you.

"Sorry I couldn't make it to practice this morning. Was tired from last night."

"Karaoke at the Bison, right?" Jennifer laughs. "Wish I could have been there to see that. I had to help the ladies with a textile emergency."

"Where were you?" Luke asks, chewing his toast as he stares at you.

"Reading," you admit with a shy glance at your fork. "I like reading in front of the fire in cold weather."

You always have. It's a safety for you in many ways. Curled under a blanket with the fire hissing and your latest paperback in your hands. Something nostalgic and beautiful about the written word surviving everything.

"Hopefully the window we repaired held up in all this snow," Luke offers, glancing over his shoulder out the window. Flakes are falling gently.

"I'm sure it did, you guys are all good at that stuff," you offer kindly. Jennifer watches you and Luke with a look of satisfaction, like Cupid after a successful mission.

"You excited about patrols?" he grins over at you.

"How could I not be? I get to go with Mr. Congeniality," you drop your eyes to your plate when you hear Luke and Jennifer giggle.

You feel buoyed by their laughter, it takes you back to a time in life when you enjoyed making people laugh. Funny cartoons about teachers sketched on lined paper. Giggling behind hands as they were passed between desks.

"With my luck though he'll tell me I'm riding my horse wrong," you joke, encouraged on by their twittering laughter.

"Or hell, maybe I'm breathing wrong," you drop your voice several octaves, adopting Joel's twang. "Too much inhalin' enough exhalin'."

When you don't hear laughter at this you look up from your eggs to see that both Luke and Jennifer have started to grimace, looking over your shoulder.

"Just got the word that we gotta head out early today."

Fuck.

Your shoulders go to your ears in embarrassment as you feel Joel's tall body standing behind you.

"Looks like there's gonna be heavy snow this afternoon," Joel's rumbling baritone informs you the back of your head.

"Okay," you tell him, shooting only a brief look at him over your shoulder before dropping your eyes back to your eggs because you're too humiliated to completely turn around. "I'll join you when we're done breakfast."

You need a few minutes to collect yourself. You know Joel just heard everything. You need to regroup, maybe get advice from Jennifer on how to handle this.

"No time to wait," Joel insists, his tone flat. "S'go."

You feel Luke and Jennifer staring at you during this exchange and you clench your jaw tightly in irritation.

"I'll bus your tray," Jennifer offers quietly across from you. "You go on."

You shoot her a grateful look, nodding as you stand. Joel is waiting there at your back, heavy eyes staring at you as you pull your jacket on. He's already got the backpack on, a gun strapped to him.

You follow him wordlessly out the dining hall and towards the front gates where Midnight and Chestnut wait for you. Joel gives you the second gun, waiting for you to throw it over your shoulder before watching you hoist yourself up on Chestnut.

"You ok there?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" You shoot back.

Fuck, he's already starting in on you. Probably pissed off since he caught you mocking him. He says nothing in response as he pulls himself up on Midnight, throwing a long leg over the horse's black coat.

You give a wave to Hank before the gates are opened and you and Joel ride out. As always you follow his lead, eyes on the horizon as Tommy's words full your head.

Raiders. Be more careful.

It would be just your luck to run into them. Or clickers. The thought makes you feel nauseated. You're still not a good enough shot. Grazing isn't killing.

"Did Tommy tell you about-"

"The Raiders? Yeah."

He doesn't offer more than that.

Joel is quiet today, maybe even thoughtful. He doesn't speak to you on the way out to Teton Village but it's not with that same hostility that usually surrounds him. It's just regular quiet. He's not rude, but he's not friendly either. If the two of you were even acquaintances you'd think he was miffed with you. As it is the two of you travel on in silence until Teton.

It’s your week to check the traps and despite your fears, you feel more confident with a bit of firearms training from Jennifer. Despite this you find yourself sticking closer to Joel during this walk into the forest.

You circle the tall trees, jacket catching on a thick gnarled tree trunk before you tug it off. Joel doesn't angrily chastise you when you trip over a wet patch because of it and bump into his back. He just goes rigid, waiting for you to right yourself before continuing on.

“Watch your step.”

Your shotgun is out, aimed at whatever you hear in the underbrush which just turns out to be birds. Snow begins, dusting your shoulders as the two of you head back to the tied horses. The traps were empty, a good and bad sign all in one.

You’re paranoid as you travel to the outpost, your eyes scanning the horizon and the passing landmarks looking for anything that could be a danger. Clicker. Person. Your talks with Ellie of The Group have you suffering from nightmares lately and that bleeds into your day, making you convinced you can see a shock of red hair or a hyena-like female laugh.

But that’s impossible.

You travel in tense silence all the way to Teton Village. The snow crunches under the hooves of the horses and you're thankful that the snow has taken a reprieve, leaving it just grey and blustery.

Soon enough you are at the village, about to do your normal rounds of the perimeter. You're confused when Joel leads you towards outpost building instead. You tie up the horses across the street and down a few houses, much to your increasing confusion.

The wood creaks under your boots as the two of you make your way up to the outpost. You stop in front of the door, hand going to the lock. His voice is at your back, quiet. You feel him standing close behind you, likely waiting for you to make a mistake.

"You remember the new code?"

"Mhm."

You're pleased with yourself when you do and it unlocks without issue. You make your way inside, smiling to yourself as you kick off the excess snow from your boots and head towards the storage room.

Joel is close behind you and memories of the lingering moments you shared inside this very room make themselves known when you feel yourself slick between your legs. You hate yourself for it just a bit, the way your body betrays you.

"Gonna check that the window's holdin' up. You handle the log book."

You nod, going to the waiting page and scribbling your names inside along with the time. Joel makes his way up the creaking steps, and you watch as his long legs carry him. After a moment you hear some hammering and assume that there are a few things in need of minor repair or additional reinforcement.

You take this moment to scan some of the past entries, the most recent from the last group who was in here a few days ago.

Repairs look great. Thanks.

You take a minute to flip back, curious to see old passages from former patrols. You never really took the time to do so. Varieties of handwriting and printing fill some of the pages.

Donated Blankets (x4), jerky rations replaced (x4), water bottles (x4), matches (x1 box). HTH’s do not work here. Too much static. Nails and hammers needed for repair to library flooring.

Cramped writing, sprawling letters, so distinct and so personal. You keep flipping until you come upon last December 25th’s entry.

All I want for Christmas is to not be living in the apocalypse.

You smirk and turn the page back, finding the same handwriting a few months prior.

Who wants to go skiing?

Your smirk turns into a small giggle before you turn back to almost two years ago, eyes alighting on a longer entry that wipes the amusement from your face.

Infectected spotted near Weston’s Pharmacy during AM patrol. One woman; Bloater, one child; Stalker. Both shot and killed. No injuries to patrol members.

You wince as you read this just as Joel trudges down the steps. He must be finished with repairs. You watch as he grabs some of the feed for the horses from his bag and leaves without saying a word. He reappears moments later, shaking the snow irritated from his broad shoulders.

"S'really comin' down,” he murmurs as the two of you take your places at the table. He pushes your sandwich and thermos towards you across the table, sitting in the opposite chair and sighing.

"I like the snow," you murmur as you chew thoughtfully, eyes turned skyward out the window.

"Won't like it when we have to ride back in it," Joel huffs between bites. He chews aggressively as if the universe conjured up the snow just to personally upset him.

He's right though, riding back in it doesn't seem very fun. Lunch is a quick thing, both of you quiet before Joel tosses back a swig of his coffee and tells you he's going to fix up some loose boards upstairs.

You don't offer to help because you know there's not a chance he'll want it. Besides, your job is to be on lookout when he does repairs in case the sound draws attention. You finish your lunch, draining your thermos of its hot chocolate. You’re feeling the chill extra strong today.

Joel reappears not too long after hoisting his gun over his back. You look at him in curiosity because Joel looks like he's getting himself ready to leave.

"You stay here, understand? Have your gun out, go stand watch."

Everything in you goes rigid. Years of carefully anticipating the changing moods of your captors gives you a sixth sense, like rumbling thunder announcing a storm.

Danger.

"Why?"

"I'm gonna go check out the other buildings on foot," he explains in a quiet rasp. "See if the Raiders rumor was true."

"Okay, I'll come with-"

"No."

His voice is low and sharp, broaching no argument. You stare at him, gaze traveling between his endless eyes, blinking rapidly a moment.

"I need you here coverin' me from that window"

He points to the southern window you were posted at last time. You nod at first before something stops you. You're not good with a gun, not yet. Especially at far distances. And Joel knows it.

You don't mention this fact. Joel knows better than anyone that your shooting skills leave much to be desired. This is busy work.

"But what if something happens to you?"

Joel's eyes sweep your face.

"You're gonna hide." Joel starts for the bottom of the stairs, hand on the dusty railing. "Come with me."

You follow him quietly, both sets of boots pounding the old wood steps as he leads you to one of the smaller rooms you don't often visit.

It's cramped with peeling wallpaper and extra lumber and nails. It must be the storage room for such things. You notice the cord hanging from the center of the ceiling.

Joel reaches up and grabs hold of it, tugging until it opens the hatch that lets down a wooden ladder. It's like the attic from your house when you were a kid.

"Reinforced it after the window last week so I know it's sturdy," Joel informs you, dragging a thumb along the ladders edge. "You hear anything that sounds like yelling or guns n' you climb up this ladder and use the rope to pull it up after you."

You tell yourself to be calm. That this won't happen. That Joel is an excellent shot. But you've seen too much in this world to live in that fantasy.

"What if they find it?"

"You keep quiet and blow their fucking head off when they climb up. It's your best option.... Your only option."

"Why wouldn't I go to the horses? Escape that way?"

"If I'm dead, trust me you won't be able to outrun ‘em. Your best bet is to lay low until a search party comes the next day."

"Okay."

"I'm gonna leave this pulled down.”

Then he's going downstairs again, making sure you know exactly where to stand at the window so that you're covered by the majority of the shutters' frame. You nod, listening intently as you gaze at him. The thick chord of his neck, the way his shoulders make him look formidable.

Is this the last time you'll ever see Joel Miller alive?

You don't like that sensation that accompanies such a concept. Ellie would be without a father. The girl has already been through enough.

"But nothing will happen, right?"

Joel pauses, dark eyes scanning your face. He must see something in it because his voice holds no malice.

"Nothing bad will happen."

You don't believe him. You don't like the way his eyes dart over your face, like he's trying to look for something.

"Do you understand everything I've told you?"

You nod.

"If you hear a gunshot you climb up into that attic."

"But-"

"Say it," Joel commands, the patience is slowly ebbing from his voice.

"Okay."

"You'll do what I say?"

"Yes. If I hear a gunshot or a scream I'll go up to the attic. I'll be quiet and if I have to I'll shoot them when they come up the ladder. Otherwise I wait for the search party."

"Good girl."

He says it brusquely as he brushes past you and down the stairs. You don't have time to ask him anything else because he's already at the front door.

He casts one look at you over his shoulder, confusing you with his stare before the door shuts behind him.

And now you’re alone in this crumbling building. A sitting duck if Joel is captured or worse, killed.

You wanted to stay on patrols. You wanted this you fucking fool.

You ready yourself at the window, watching as the tall figure of Joel makes his way through the snow. His curls float around his head in the wind and you feel a pang of anxiety at the thought of them splattered with his blood.

You watch the surrounding area for any movement and for once you think this is what you need to be doing. This is what you're good at. This is what you trained for in all those years entering abandoned buildings and scouring old barns for The Group.

You can keep Joel safe.

There is no movement aside from his tall frame, and yet you still keep your gun raised, cocked and ready should you need it to be used. The snow makes it difficult though. Flakes are getting heavy and puffy, making it hard, but not impossible, to track Joel.

You watch his long muscled legs work their way across the terrain, gun raised, body poised for attack. You marvel at how even from where you watch him high above he still gives a feeling of protector, of big. Of safe.

Soon enough Joel's frame moves behind the pharmacy, out of your eye line and you exhale slowly.

He didn't say where he was going or for how long. An easy oversight, but in moments like this it feels unforgivable.

Ten minutes go by.

Then twenty.

Then thirty.

As you watch out the window with your gun poised you can't help but marvel at how quickly snow is blanketing the ground. Joel's tracks in the snow have long been covered up.

When lightning steals across the sky and thunder booms loudly you feel it in your bones.

Thundersnow.

You’d heard some of the Wyoming long timers around town mention it at the Bison a few weeks back, but you’ve never actually witnessed it yourself. It’s surreal to see the snow drifting heavily as lightning cracks again.

The wind is picked up as well, whipping around the nearby trees. And yet you stand there like a statue, your gun aimed. It's only when you hear the distant whinny of one of the horses that you feel your heart leap to your throat.

Chestnut. Midnight.

In this weather they'll be suffering. Maybe even killed. You'd been so distracted by keeping vigilant over Joel that you hadn't even cast a second thought to them. Your body instinctively steps back from the window, eyes scanning over your shoulder.

He told you not to move.

But he didn't know it was going to be a blizzard like this.

You wrap the scarf around your neck and lower half of your face, stumbling out the door with your gun in front of you. You’ll be fast. You’ll bring the horses in and be back to the window before Joel ever realizes.

You sink into the snow easily; it comes just above your mid-calf over your boots. And it doesn't show signs of stopping any soon. It's so high that it immediately begins to seep into your boots, wetting your socks.

You feel as if you're waiting through quicksand. But it doesn't stop you and your dogged pursuit to reach the two animals huddled together under the tree. They shake aggressively, trying to avoid the falling flakes.

Snow blankets the two along their back and their manes. You watch Midnight give a particularly aggressive jerk of his head only to have more flakes accumulate from the swollen sky above. They morph into icy rain pelting down the back of your neck, your cheeks and your shoulders.

The horses are pulling at their reins and rearing up on their back legs as you approach.

"It's okay," you try to soothe, likely unheard over the storm. You reach your hand towards Chestnut’s bridle but he rears back at the clap of lightning that hits the sky at the same time.

“Chestnut it’s me! Calm down boy!”

You nearly scream when you feel a hand on your shoulder. You spin, aiming your gun shakily in front of you.

"S'me," the figure informs you. He pulls down his dark scarf and Joel's irritated expression is revealed.

"You scared me."

He doesn't answer this, simply grabs Midnight by his bridle and gives a sharp click of his tongue. Midnight struggles at first, but ultimately relents, trailing after Joel like an obedient child.

You quickly untie the slippery reigns from around the tree, attempting to tug at a very frightened Chestnut along. He comes down from his hind legs but his eyes are spooked. You slip in the wet snow, falling to your knees and hissing in pain. You grit your teeth, standing and attempting to pull Chestnut again.

"S'okay," you soothe, pulling him gently. He fights you, head twisting and the lightning cracks the sky. "Chestnut - C'mon-"

A sharp clap of thunder has him trying to pull from your grasp. You cry out as the reign rasps brutally around your knuckles.

"Chestnut! Stop!" You shout, panicking as the horse continues to jerk away from you.

Joel is back, his boots kicking against the deep snow. You feel him brush against your shoulder, large hand covering yours.

"Give 'em here," he grunts, taking the reins from you and tugging forcefully. "C'mon, C'mon, get goin'."

Chestnut whinnies terrified and you back up as his hooves shoot out anxiously. Joel grunts again before his fist jerks the reign brutally.

"Enough!"

Chestnut responds to this, eyes going to Joel and cowering. You watch in amazement as Chestnut bows his head, following after Joel with no more hesitation or defiance.

The three of you head into the outpost building, dripping with wet snow as you enter. Midnight is in the main room staggering at the side. Joel shifts his hand and urges Chestnut to follow, closing the door behind you as you enter.

"Sometimes you gotta be rough to get ‘em to listen," Joel explains, handing the reins off to you. "S'the only way to keep ‘em safe."

You don't know that you agree with that assessment. You unhook the reigns from Chestnut before pressing a soft kiss to his twitching muzzle. You whisper soothing words, waiting for your dear horse to stop his shaking.

"We'll leave ‘em in here for tonight," Joel says to them before looking over at you. You’re shivering, eyes wide. You must look a fright as you cast a wide-eyed look around the room.

“The door is locked right?”

“’Course.”

You both breathe heavily a moment, your eyes on his red cheeks.

"Did you see anything?"

"Nothin'," Joel informs you, shaking the flakes off his shoulder angrily. "Even if there was someone there's no fucking way to see 'em in this mess."

You're still shivering as you nod at him, following him up the windy creaking steps to the large former Library. Joel disappears into the logbook room and appears with a plastic box matches. You stand shivering and watching him kneeling in front of the hearth, using his pocket knife to make kindling and before long a fire begins.

"S'only good thing about this weather," Joel mutters to the hearth. "No one'll see the smoke."

His broad back ripples as he shoulders of his soaked jacket. It lands onto the wood floor with a plop. You watch as he kneels there, urging the flames to lick up into the kindling, blowing gently to get it to catch. You’re hypnotized at his acumen for this, as if he were meant to live out on the land. He loads the dry lumber over the now crackling flame before letting out a tired sigh.

"I told you not to leave."

You swallow, needing him to know that it wasn't insolence or even defiance that made you leave.

"I know, but the horses-"

Joel isn't listening to you; he's loading more wood into the hearth shaking his head in poorly concealed frustration.

"You don't fuckin' listen to me."

"I do so," you insist to the back of his head. "I just didn't today because there was something more important."

He stands, knees cracking and fixes you with a stern look. Just like that it's back to the old dynamic. Him like a dark black blanket over your body. Weighting you down with his effortless dominance

"I had it handled."

"How could I know that? I didn't see you."

"Patrol partners need to trust one another. That's why this ain't workin'."

At his words something clicks in your brain and the answer to your earlier question is so fucking obvious you’re embarrassed you didn’t put two and two together earlier.

"It was you who told Tommy to take me off patrols, wasn't it?"

Joel is silent, jaw set, left thumb and forefinger pressing together so tightly the tips go white.

"You had no fucking right to do that." You sniffle angrily, wrapping your damp jacket around your shoulders. "You go on about trust and you're the one going behind my back trying to get me kicked off."

"You shouldn't be out here," Joel insists. He sucks at his teeth.

"You don't get to say what I do."

"You're here ain't you? Doesn't matter what I say."

"You're such a-"

Joel's eyes flash and his hand is held between you, almost like you're a wild animal he's trying to hold at bay. But you think it’s the opposite.

"Don't," Joel warns voice barely above a whisper. "Don't start that."

Something in his voice terrifies you as much as it enrages you. So when hot tears prick the back of your eyes you're not sure which is the cause.

"Do you just hate me that much, Joel?"

You despise how small your voice sounds. Joel huffs a sigh, eyes closing briefly.

"S'not about that."

"What is it then?"

He just shakes his head and strides away from you towards the log room. You follow at his heels like a needy puppy. You push your soaked hair from your eyes, feeling your wet clothing weighting you down as you pursue him.

"Joel."

He ignores you, long legs carrying him quicker, boots scraping the floor.

"Why don't you want me on patrols?"

He begins to pull down one of the boxes from the shelving ignoring you.

"Answer me, please.”

It's not until you reach out a hand and grab his shoulder that he spins abruptly as if you've burnt him. He doesn't touch you; he just shakes off your hand and fixes you with a level stare that has you stepping back. Your feet slip in your boots and you realize you must look a sight, soaked to the skin, eyes red and chin wobbling.

Joel tilts his neck down, making sure to hold your gaze with his own.

"After all that shit you went through with those people? Why the fuck woul-"

He stops himself, the next word bit back, his eyes on the ground. The silence expands as understanding blooms in your face. You feel your jaw crack, eyes narrowing.

"You spied on me when I was talking to Ellie."

"S'a house, not a fucking football field," Joel sneers. "Sound carries."

Before you can say anything more you shiver. Despite the warmth of the fire in the next room you feel the chill of the damp creeping into your bones. Joel observes this and with a head tilt encourages you to follow him into the storage room.

You find yourself too exhausted to badger him further about patrols. Nothing will change in the next twenty four hours. So you follow in close pursuit, watching as he goes to one of the shelves and pulls out a duffel bag. Inside are two blankets, a few bottles of water and some rations.

"Strip and put this on," Joel says pulling out and then shoving a blanket at you. You take it into your arms gratefully before belatedly hearing what he told you.

Strip?

"Unless you feel like catching a cold. Be my guest," Joel adds when you hesitate. He takes the duffel and heads into another room, slamming the door behind him.

You go into the bathroom, the door creaking shut.

You're completely soaked from head to toe. It feels like you've had a freezing bath. And yet you hesitate a full minute before you realize that if you keep these clothes on there's a very good chance you're going to get seriously ill. And while Jackson City had a lot of amenities. antibiotics are always in short supply.

You strip hurriedly, your fingers shaking with cold. Your hair is squeezed and excess water circles the old sink. The clothing is squeezed as well as you try to wring out as much of the damp as possible.

You think about keeping your panties on because the thought of being completely bare under the blanket around Joel is far too daunting. But then the option of freezing in soaking under things doesn't seem like a better option.

The blanket is warm and when wrapped around you shoulders it hits you mid-calf. If you tuck it between your legs is almost like wearing a toga. You do, wrapping it so that only your arms and bottom of your legs poke out. You have the passing wonder if this is one of the blankets Jennifer made during her times in textiles.

You bring your clothes out with you, padding over barefoot to the large fireplace Joel has already begun stoking. He wears the blanket similar to you, tucked tightly around his broad frame. But one arm is out, the muscles glinting in the warmth of the fire’s glow.

"We don't normally do this," Joel explains, always in teacher mode. "Don't wanna attract attention. But desperate times n' all that."

You hang your clothes over a chair from the supply room and drag it towards the fireplace as Joel's dark eyes dart to see what you're up to.

"I was gonna put ‘em by the fire to dry," you explain. "You want me to wring yours out too?"

"Nah, I'll do mine," Joel replies. There's no snark left, his attention is fixed on the fire that's building there. You’re both just too tired to be prickly with one another.

A quick glance out the window confirms that the snow is still falling. So you're stuck for at least a couple more hours.

Great.

"Fuck that feels good," you say dropping to your knees and holding your palms to the fire. Joel's eyes swim over you before he fixes them on the roaring flames. His eyes are so dark they showcase the bright embers when you glance at them.

Everything is cold and damp. Your feet are numb from the snow and you hiss when the circulation begins in them again. Joel goes to wring out his clothes, bringing them back with another chair and propping it beside yours.

Joel drags the couch close to the fireplace, setting it down with a groan as his knees creak before collapsing onto it with a grunt. It looks more comfortable than kneeling on the floor and so you join him.

You knee brushes his as you take your seat, the fabric of the quilts rasping against one another. You try not to be offended when Joel jerks his knee away from you.

You get it. He doesn't like you. Can't stand to be around you if there's not another person as a buffer. But does he have to be so immature about it? You have a moment of concern when you think of your last buffer, Ellie.

"Will Ellie be okay tonight?"

"Yeah, Tommy'll make sure she is until I get back."

"How does he know when you'll be back?"

"He doesn't." Joel stokes the fire absently with a nearby stick. "When we don't come back at our usual time they'll usually give it a few hours and then come looking for us."

"Usually?"

"With a storm like this? They won't make it far. They'll figure we hit the same and're hunkered down somewhere. If we aren't back by tomorrow afternoon and the snow is clear then they'll send a group out. S'protocol."

"Oh."

The two of you lapse into quiet contemplation as the crackling fire sounds.

The house feels so big and with the sun going down it feels almost frightening. You’ve never been in this place in the dark. You don’t like how open the room is, how many shadows and walls exist. You miss your little home with its plain walls and minimal walls. You fantasize about how a bath would feel so luxurious at this moment.

You sniffle again, burying your face into the blanket a moment to warm it. The fire is definitely helping, but you wish it was bigger and the room less drafty.

Joel isn’t saying anything but he’s not scowling like he usually is when you glance over at him.

"Is Ellie doing any more baking?"

"Nope. Think she's more partial to just eatin'."

“Sounds like her,” you smile before pausing and adding: “Your pastries were good.”

Joel hums a response and emboldened by his openness you continue.

“I didn’t know you baked.”

“I don’t. Just followed the recipe you had on the counter.”

“Oh.”

Joel doesn't try to extend the conversation so you fall silent again as you go back to the floor and move closer to the fire. The flames warm your cheeks and your front. A cool drop of water runs down your spine under the blanket and you shudder.

You kneel a bit closer to the fire and gingerly move your hair over one shoulder, trying to dry it the best you can. As you do you feel the blanket slip down over your back, exposing your neck down to your shoulder blade. You hurriedly pull your quilt back up over your shoulder, heart pounding.

"M'gonna check the horses."

Joel lurches up from the couch, not waiting for your reply. You don't watch him go, finding you don't care to see his sullen expression. You're not sure which is worse, the ‘rude but communicative when needed’ Joel or this strange withdrawn creature that's replaced him.

Joel is gone for a little while. Much longer than it takes to check on the horses, but you don't mind. You like having a bit of quiet to fall under the spell of the flickering flames.

You wonder what Jennifer would think of this, being stuck in an isolated space with Joel overnight.

She'd be in heaven.

You smirk at this, knowing she'd take full advantage of the situation. Probably flutter her lashes and let the blanket slip open ever so slightly, giving Joel a flash of breast before faking modesty. It would work, you're certain of it. Joel strikes you as someone who likes the soft curves of a woman, perhaps because of what Maria said.

You can't wait to return home tomorrow. To have coffee in Jennifer's cheery house and update her on any and all Joel lore you uncover. It won't be much judging by his conversational skills so far. But you will be able to report that Joel Miller has very nice calves. You saw a flash of them when he got up.

Jennifer will have a field day with that information; she probably won't leave her bed for a week.

Joel returns eventually, his eyes refusing to meet yours. He comes back with the remaining two blankets from the duffel, throwing one over your legs. He sits on the far end of the couch, warming himself with the second blanket over himself. You tuck yourself on the other end, the two of you quiet as you watch the fire.

You think about ancient times when all creatures had was fire and an open sky to pass the time. When the air was free of chemicals and the landscape open instead of crowded with infrastructure. You wonder what they would make of your world now. Would they secretly cheer that nature has slowly begun to reclaim its earth?

Time passes and soon enough the sky through the window grows dark and the air grows colder. You start to shiver slightly and Joel adds more lumber to the fire. You think back to last week when you’d all had those brownies to share. You think back to this morning with your hot chocolate.

"Wish I didn't drink all my hot chocolate," you sniff with a sigh as you burrow back on the creaking sofa. You're not saying it for pity, more just to fill the quiet.

"We have some coffee left," Joel offers.

You’re surprised when he moves to grab the Thermos from his bag next to him beside the couch. You can't help but notice how muscular his bare arms are when he does. You take it from him, eyes on his large hand.

"Thanks," you reply, taking a small sip.

Even though you don’t drink coffee often you don't want to waste it. It warms you and the jerky he hands you along with it moments later makes the encroaching hunger fade. Joel takes the Thermos back from you, also taking a ginger sip before twisting on the cap and sighing.

"I miss real coffee."

Joel never talks about the past, not really. Never about his life before this. You've had to stitch his back-story together with patches of information gathered over your time and interactions with Ellie.

So this little glimmer, this tiny piece of him sticks out to you. It rattles in your bones and burrows deep in your brain.

I miss real coffee.

"The stuff they make in the dining hall doesn't do it for you?" You prompt, wanting him to share more, finding that you're desperate for a little more Joel.

"That's not real coffee," Joel scoffs. "That's instant shit. It all is."

You've never had real coffee either so you don't know if the derision is warranted. You’d always been a tea drinker yourself. You watch him slurp back the contents of his thermos while your mind is a million miles away.

Coffee. Joel likes coffee. Real Coffee. Joel drinking coffee. Real Coffee.

Did Joel go to cafes? Did he go to Starbucks and sit reading? Did he drink coffee with silly names and lots of whipped cream? Did women blush and stammer when a young Joel slid by them to grab cream or sugar?

You imagine a world before this one. One where you could have met in a cafe. Bumped into each other as you both reached for a cup. Classic meet cute. Then you remember this is Joel Miller. He would have scowled at you and told you to get your own coffee. The thought amuses you.

Soon enough the combination of the warm drink and the stress of the day gets to you. Your eyes begin to drift shut, your head slowly falling forward before you catch yourself. Joel must notice this because he clears his throat.

“We’ll take turns on watch,” Joel informs you. “You sleep first, I’ll get next. We’ll do four hour switches.”

“Okay.”

You don’t ask why you need to be on watch during a storm. You trust that Joel is right about it. Joel may be an asshole, but he’s an educated one. And so far during everything he has not let you down. He has been rough, he has been unpleasant but he has been there through it all. Joel Miller will protect you. You don’t know why tonight is when you decide this is true, but you do.

You burrow into your blankets, thankful for them. It’s not exactly warm, but it does the job. You still feel a little strange cuddled there completely bare underneath. It makes it hard to get comfortable and fall asleep but you eventually do.

You wake up what feels like no time at all later. Your hair is partially dried and the fire is still going steadily. You blink down your body to see you’ve stretched out on the couch, your feel practically against Joel’s thigh.

He’s staring into the fire, a flask in one hand and the other over your ankle buried under the blanket. You don’t think he even realizes that your foot is there. When you start to shift his hand moves to his thigh, his dark eyes blinking over at you.

“Not been four hours.”

“Tell that to my body,” you say wryly. “Any more coffee left?”

“Nah.”

Between the blankets and the fire you shouldn’t feel this cold, should you? You glance over when you see Joel handing the silver flask out towards you.

“What’s that?”

“Whiskey. It’ll make you feel warm.”

“Where’d you find that?”

“My bag.”

You smile gently before you shift back into a seated position on the couch, wincing at the muscle pull in your neck from sleeping at such an awkward angle. You take the flask with a polite nod of your head.

“Thank you.”

You take the flask from him before bringing it gingerly to your lips. You take a deep pull from it, wincing when the astringent alcohol hits your tongue.

"Strong," you mumble.

But you’re delighted when you feel it scorch a warm trail from your throat all the way to your belly. You take another sip before screwing the top back on. Joel watches this, his features relaxed. You wonder if he isn’t a little drunk.

"How'd he get you outta there?"

His voice is a husky rasp, his mouth barely moving as he murmurs this at you. You take a moment to try and process what he’s asking you.

"Huh? Who?"

"Chi guy,” Joel says taking the flask back from you and taking a long pull. “You were in a group ‘a Raiders. Something tells me they wouldn't just let their best shot and their trusty bait walk off into the sunset together."

He hands the flask back to you and you take another sip. Minutes tick by and you’re not answering his first question, so you suppose Joel decides on another angle.

"The two of you fuck?"

You turn your head to face Joel, surprised. He’s got a strange expression on his face, his lids heavy, waiting for you response.

"Yeah.”

Joel takes the flask from you, holding it there in his palms, not drinking, just staring into the flames. "You like it?"

You shoot daggers at him. "Yes."

You're not lying. You did enjoy your times with Chiyo. While there wasn't a romantic aspect, you definitely felt taken care of during those times together.

Joel nods, lower lip protruding as he takes another pull of the flask. You’re thankful to him for bringing it

“How much did you hear of what I told Ellie?”

“Enough.” Joel swallows thickly.

The alcohol warms your veins and your belly and you start to relax.

"Did that Group.... Try things with you?"

It takes you a minute to parse what he's not saying out loud.

"No," you shake your head. "The women in the group were territorial that way. Besides they didn't see me like a person. More like a dog. They never spoke to me unless it was to order me around or feed me whatever leftovers they had. Kept me chained up at night so I couldn't escape."

Joel’s eye tics just a fraction as he listens to you. And for some reason whether it be the intimacy of sitting there with him before a fire or the whiskey working through your veins, you decide to share with Joel.

You think because he’s one of the few people who won’t pity you for it.

“So The Group… that’s what I called them. I never really learned their names. There were three men, two women. They had me with then for a few years. I was obedient for the most part because by the end I didn’t care if I lived or died. I did what they said and they weren’t kind to me, but they didn’t make me suffer as much as they could’ve. They took me to the bathroom, let me shower when there was time. But they never spoke to me directly unless it was to order me around.”

Joel is completely still, and the only movement comes from the shadow of the flames reflected in his dark eyes. You find you can’t look into them, instead finding the space between your bodies on the couch to do the job just fine. You tell the little patch of green your story.

"Wherever we stayed we always slept together in the same room. They said it was for safety but I know they just did it to keep an eye on everyone. The only one who was chained up at night was me. I was the bait after all. Chiyo was chained up for the first few months but he was a likeable guy. He earned their trust through action. He was a good shot and they liked having him around.”

You swallow.

“Well, in the last place the toilets didn’t work so there was an outhouse out back so Chiyo told me that he had a plan. He suggested they celebrate the hunting of the day with a little booze they had stashed in the supply bags. They were all for it. They chained me up and I just sat there watching them get drunker and drunker. After a few hours most of ‘em were passed out.”

You shift under the blankets, finding that you’re not really feeling the cold at all.

“So I did what Chi had told me. I told them I had to go to the bathroom. Chi was pretending to be drunk and he said that he would take me to the outhouse to make sure I didn’t get up to anything. They were so drunk I don’t even know if they heard us leave after he unchained me.”

Joel is still silent, still attentively listening. You wonder if this is all boring to him. If he’s seen much worse.

“So we go to the outhouse. Chi grabs the gun, I follow him back but he makes me stay outside the bedroom. He tells me that I shouldn’t see what’s going to happen. I wanted to help, but he insisted and I was in no position to fight him on it.”

You close your eyes, replaying the moment.

“So I stood there outside the door and I listened to him shoot each one in the head. Some of them were already passed out. One tried to fight back but like I said, Chi was a great shot. They didn’t stand a chance. Then we packed up and we left.”

You can still see it. The flash of blood and brain on the walls as Chi exited. The slumped over bodies as he tugged your wrist, urging you to follow him.

When your eyes open again Joel is offering you the flask. You take it gratefully, taking a ginger sip before handing it back. You don’t know what else to say, even as Joel rests his heavy gaze on you.

"You think less of him for it?"

"For killing the people that wouldn't even flinch if they had to kill me?" You scoff. "Not at all. I wish he'd hung them by their feet over a pit of ravenous clickers. Had them piss themselves in fear. I wish they could have seen their loved ones bit. I wish they could have watched as everything was taken from them and then I wish he’d slit their throats so they’d take longer to die."

You know that Joel is staring at you and it's likely because he's never seen this side to you. This ugly, twisted, hateful side that you try to keep hidden. This side that you soften under baked goods and paper flowers.

"Chi was right though about not letting me help him kill them," you confess quietly. “I’m not built for it.”

Joel is quiet, his body so still you think he’s gone rigid.

"He got bit not long before I got to the next QZ,” you explain. “And I couldn’t let him turn into one of those things.”

If Joel is surprised by your admission about Chiyo's death he makes no mention of it, his features remain stoic, his dark eyes moving back to the fire. You wish you could make sense of his expression, but you can’t, you don’t know him well enough.

“I still have nightmares about killing him and I don’t think those’ll ever go away,” you murmur to the flames. “You know, I remember thinking the doe we killed on that first patrol had eyes just like him. That same glossy dark color. Looked the same when he was dead, just staring up at me."

You don't speak much after that.

Not until a short while later when Joel’s flask is re-opened and the two of you take long pulls. The alcohol loosens you both up, you can tell in the lazy way you both lean into the couch.

The blankets and the couch and the fire lend you a feeling of comfort, of warmth and you think that perhaps this isn’t as bad as the situation could have been. That this Joel sitting by you feels different.

“If I'd known all that stuff, I never would've.... Joel trails off, still looking into the fire. "I'd have done things different when we started patrols."

"It shouldn't take someone's traumatic history for you to treat them decently," you say, feeling emboldened by the drink. You wait for his biting reply.

"You're right."

You're surprised by his easy agreement but you don't let it show. You find it hard to let a lot of how you feel show with Joel. Something in you always holds you back.

"I think you were just so... skittery," Joel offers to the flames. "Made me nervous."

"Oh."

As you look at him from the corner of your eyes in shock you think that when he's not scowling he's quite handsome. Strong masculine features, full lips. You can understand why Jennifer is attracted to him.

At that errant thought your mind goes to your friend. Jennifer. This is the perfect opportunity to talk her up like she's done with you to Luke.

"You know Jennifer was sa-"

"What’s with you and bringin’ up that Jennifer girl?" Joel cuts in, shooting you a glare. His old irritated expression is back, along with his tensed shoulders.

"I...uh..." You weren't expecting such vitriol. He crosses his arms in front of his chest like a petulant schoolchild.

"I've talked with her a handful of times," Joel says with a huff. "And I don't like how she stares at me."

"Except I've seen how you stare at her," you shoot back with a frown, defensive of your friend. "And flirt."

"Flirt?" Joel looks beside himself. "When s'at?"

"Agreeing to drinks at the Bison after patrols last time, calling her Jenny," you list these things off with ease. "Or how about staring at her during breakfast just this morning? She caught you doing it, you know."

Joel opens his mouth to say something but then slams it shut. He goes quiet and you know he must be remembering when he did all those things. You don't fault him, Jennifer is a beautiful woman.

"It's fine if you like her Joel, she likes you and-"

"I don't like her. I barely fuckin’ know her." He takes a swig from his flask. "I wish you'd stop bringin' her up."

"Okay. Sorry, I will."

“Good.”

Joel must be shy when it comes to crushes and you don't want to embarrass him further.

To you Joel is a forever enigma, someone who shares so little of himself. You feel almost owed information on his romantic past, as if because he heard your story you deserve his. You don’t know if that’s a fair assessment.

“I’ve never heard you talk about a woman. Was there anyone before Jackson City?”

“Yep.”

He doesn’t expand on this and you sigh heavily through your nose. You’re irritated that you’ve shared so much with someone who obviously doesn’t care to do the same with you. Perhaps you misjudged hi-

"There was a woman back in the Boston QZ," Joel's says in a voice that goes soft. "Tess. We smuggled together."

"What was she like?"

He shifts in his seat, the blanket tightening. He looks both irritated and impossibly wounded. He doesn’t look at you directly, more the wall over your shoulder when he addresses you.

"She was always in charge," he tells you in a voice that sounds detached from him. "I was the muscle."

This surprises you. Joel seems such a natural leader, such a confident force. They can't imagine him cowing to anyone, especially a woman.

"Did you like that?"

"I liked hurtin' people at times, yeah."

You don't have to ask him why he liked hurting people because the answer is clear. It was better to cause pain in others when it helped distract from the gaping wound within Joel Miller in the shape of his lost daughter.

"No, I meant did you like Tess being in charge?"

"Sometimes," Joel relents. "Was nice not to have to plan and organize and everythin'. Could just exist for a bit."

You imagine Joel back in the QZ with a beautiful woman who warmed his bed and you feel a strange twisting in your stomach. She was tough. The opposite of you, you think. You're soft. Too soft for this world at times.

"Did you guys..." You trail off, feeling strangely insecure. You shouldn't after everything he asked about you, and yet it still feels like a boundary crossed.

He sneers at you.

"I'm a man ain’t I?"

You don't say anything in response to that.

Your assessment had been correct – Joel liked strong, tough women. Women like Jennifer who could be feminine but hard when they needed to be. Women like this Tess who you just know was beautiful.

The fire crackles in front of you, leaving you drowsy and almost hypnotized. It makes you momentarily forget that you and Joel aren't people who usually talk to one another.

“Were you in love with her?”

You want to know about the woman who caught his attention, who he talks of with such reverence.

"I tried," Joel finally answers, but you can see the weight of it behind his eyes. "Couldn't give it to her in the way she wanted though."

You wish you knew what Tess looked like, what she sounded like when she laughed and if she was a good shot. You wonder if they teased each other affectionately or if it was all seriousness and hard fucking. You wonder if he fucked her mouth like did yours. You wonder if they slept together, limbs entwined, breathing even.

You feel a stab of jealousy that he had that. At least twice if the sporadic history you’ve learned of him is correct. Two women who held him, two women who loved him. A man as recalcitrant as him found two separate women to care for him. And you? What do you have?

"I don't need love," you confess to him him with a labored sigh, eyes drifting half shut sleepily. "Wouldn't know what to do with it if I had it. I just wanna be someone's only."

"Someone’s only?"

"Like the only one they see," you explain with a yawn. "The only one they take to bed and kiss and all that stuff."

Joel makes a soft humming sound as he digests what you're saying.

You snuggle further into the blankets, watching the fire in the hearth and wondering what it must have been like to be in this big library back when it held hundreds of books. You wonder what sort of people sat in the very room you and Joel reside in. Did they study, their eyes going blurry the longer they stared at the pages? Did they sneak off to kiss in the stacks, nervous fumbling fearful of being caught?

Libraries have their own sort of life within them after all, it’s easy to imagine the dusty floorboards and the peeling wallpaper restored to its former glory. Can almost hear the soft ‘shhhh’ of an eagle-eared librarian. The world before seems romantic and nostalgic in moments like this.

If only you’d enjoyed it to the fullest.

Your mind drifts to the embers, red hot and pulsing. It reminds you of blood pooling in a gaping mouth.

"Joel, do you think the infected are still conscious?"

He looks at you from the corner of his eye.

"Huh?"

"I mean, like, do you think that they're trapped in their bodies still knowing what's happening but unable to stop it?" You wince at the thought. "Not able to control their bodies but still self aware?"

"I sure fucking hope not," Joel says quietly.

"Me too. Jennifer said that th-“

You stop yourself with a sharp wince, but Joel has heard you and he rolls his eyes.

“Why're you always bringing up that Jennifer girl?"

You shrug, embarrassed. "I guess because she's like, my only friend."

"Ellie'll be devastated to hear that."

Warmth floods you at that. Ellie, your sweet little pal. The girl with the bite that puts her trust in you of all people.

"Yeah I guess she is too," you say with a rueful grin. "She must be pretty desperate to have a grown woman as a friend."

"She's discerning," Joel mutters. "She doesn't waste her time on idiots."

You think that this is as close to a compliment that Joel's ever given you outside of sexual interactions. It gives you pause.

"I like how honest Ellie is," you offer. "It can be brutal at times, but I like that I know where I stand with her."

Joel smiles at that, a tight-lipped thing he's never offered you before. It makes you give one in return before your attention goes back to your hands in your lap.

“She sure thinks the world of you,” you offer.

“Yeah well,” Joel shrugs, embarrassed. “We’ve been through a lot.”

“Did she know Tess?”

Joel goes quiet, staring back at the fire. You worry that you’ve said the wrong thing because he’s got a hurt look in his eyes. The kind that makes the dark brown of it glossy and hard.

“Yeah. She knew Tess.”

And something in the finality of his hushed tone makes you cease in that line of questioning. His eyes sweep to you as if belatedly realizing he's shared a vulnerable part of himself and like a feral cat that hisses when they realize they've let their guard down, Joel straightens.

"I've had too much of this," he says handing you the flask. You're surprised when you can feel it's still half full. "You should go back to sleep. I’ll wake you when your shift starts.”

"Okay."

You put the flask on the floor, looking into the fire before shifting onto your side, curling within the blankets. You gaze down over your hip to see Joel staring into the space in front of him and you realize that this is perhaps one of the only times you’ll be able to really talk to Joel.

And there’s a big, big question that’s been lingering in your subconscious for weeks now. One that you could never have brought up if not for this sense of camaraderie.

“Joel, why did you stop wanting to do stuff on patrols?”

You don’t know why but you need to ask him this. You’ve gone through the scenarios countless times trying to understand. The thought that you did something wrong, the thought that perhaps Joel got bored of you is what you’ve landed on, but you want to hear it.

He shifts again on the couch, his back cracking. He licks at his lower lip, hands bracing against his thighs. It’s clear he’s uncomfortable with the topic, but you can’t find it in yourself to let it go.

“Did I do something wrong that day?”

“No,” Joel says quickly. “Just thought it was a distraction.”

“Oh.”

You don’t really believe that. But you suppose it could be true. You are here to do a job after all, not suck him off. You exhale slowly through your nose as you think back to that final day, his thumb in your mouth and his eyes on your face. You think of how it felt to have your mouth full of him and that blissful sensation of quiet that came along with it.

“I miss doing it.”

It comes from you in a breathy sigh, a quiet thing said to the air in front of you. But its loud in the silent room and it makes your eyes pop open.

Did Joel hear that?

You close your eyes then, your cheeks heating because there's a hesitation, a silence. You cringe, feeling as though you've fucked this up this gentle alliance. Joel was so forthcoming with you and now he’s gone radio silent because you just said the stupidest thing possible.

You shake your head internally, bracing yourself for Joel’s mockery or derision.

There’s the feeling of the couch dipping and when you crack open your eyes Joel's muscular frame is moving towards you. The blanket has fallen to his hips, leaving his torso visible.

You sit up, suddenly intimidated by his broad frame and muscular stature. His eyes scan over your body hidden in the blankets. He takes in your braced pose, the way you’re almost wary of him as he moves over to you.

"Lay back.”

You look at his eyes reflecting the flames licking up the hearth. It's almost as hypnotic as his husky voice.

“What’re you-“

“I said lay back.”

His voice is stern but without its usual malice. He’s giving you an order and he’s expecting you to follow it. You remember the first day you met him.

I'm the one who gives orders. Not you.

You feel your pulse start to tick as the two of you lock eyes and its like everything in the world falls away. The whistle of the wind, the crackle of the fire, the thrum of your heart. Nothing is left save for your shallow breathing.

You tilt backwards, your arms securing your blanket tightly around your torso. You wonder if he’s going to fuck your mouth in this position. Or perhaps he’s just going to touch himself over you. Both thoughts have you pressing your thighs together tightly. You’re head is perched on the edge of the sofa arm, watching him.

Joel’s eyes dip to your waist and he confuses you when his long fingers slide to the blanket laying overtop you. He says nothing, just pushes the blanket up your waist, exposing you to him in the firelight. Goose bumps ripple over your flesh but not from the cold.

“Joel-“

His eyes never leave your face, but you feel his fingers brush over your bare thigh. The blanket toga you fashioned has come undone and you flinch as he moves his calloused hand over your skin, thumb grazing the crease between your thigh and hip. The air feels strangely heavy as Joel’s knuckles graze your slick entrance.

It feels so good.

Your hips jolt before you force them to still, your body supine before him. Joel tilts his head slightly, gazing at your exposed cunt with what almost looks like affection.

“She always this wet?"

The way he speaks is so vulgar but his tone is so soothing that it creates a strange dichotomy within your brain. It leaves you dumbstruck, able only to give a brief shake of your head in response.

Joel sweeps the tip of his tongue over his plush lower lip, wetting it.

"S'for me?"

You still can't answer; your throat feels sealed shut as he keeps his gaze fixed between your legs. But your silence and pink cheeks are their own kind of damning confession.

Joel says nothing more but there's a touch of amusement in his look that's not lost on you. It makes you tilt your face to the side, not wanting to show more of your hand.

Joel shifts, removing his hand from your body. You immediately miss the warmth, eyes snapping down the length of you to watch in quiet fascination as Joel shrugs off the blanket over his shoulders.

You swallow again, your own blanket raised to just below your eyes. You can't help but exhale softly at the sight of him.

Joel's body is a beautiful gold color. There are a few scars that curve along his flesh, a particularly jagged one along the right side under his ribs. He's broad and muscular and so masculine with his strong features and stronger body.

One of the blankets remains slung loosely around his middle, allowing you a brief vision of dark hair below his navel leading under the quilt before he curves forward. His wide hands come to slide up over your knees, gliding to your thighs and then back down again. He does this several times, his eyes watching the ascent of his touch as you pant softly.

His hands come to glide up your thighs again, thumbs coming to trace the soft inner skin there. You feel as his strong grip begins to urge your legs to part and in a panic your thighs slap together. You see the flash of his glittering eyes snap to your face.

"Open.”

When you don't immediately acquiesce you feel his thumbs tracing small circles on the inner skin of your thigh, not moving an inch from where he kneels half curled over you. His touch is setting of strange vibrations through your body, ones that make it hard to catch your breath.

“Open.”

He repeats it and the timbre of his voice is sweet and sticky like syrup. A coaxing thing that silently promises it’ll be worth it if you do. He waits, not moving an inch as you decide.

Finally after a moment’s deliberation you give a shuddering breath before your legs fall open on either side of him, exposing you in a completely new way as you hear him inhale slowly.

You feel like your entire body is on fire not only from embarrassment but from this overwhelming sizzling ache in your core. This strange desire that makes it impossible to think clearly. To remind you that you don’t really like Joel as a person. To remind you that Joel doesn’t enjoy your company.

But it doesn’t matter because Joel is moving to rest prone on the couch between your legs with a grunt. He props himself up on his elbows and goes to push the blanket over your hips higher but you tense. He must register this because his hands slide back, his mouth set in a firm line of patience.

One wide palm slips between your legs, gentle fingers grazing over your mound. The sensation is soothing, almost bordering on ticklish. You feel your body eventually relaxing, eyes drifting shut. Joel makes a quiet sound of what you think is approval.

You don't know how long this lasts for, but you soon find yourself boneless, lulled by Joel's shockingly delicate touch. Your arms which had been glued over your chest now relax, rising over your head over the arm of the couch.

You feel yourself drifting off, unsure of when Joel went from someone who terrified you to a man whose fingers are slowly dancing up the seam of your pussy. He feels so soft and gentle right now and you let him maneuver you however he wants. He must feel you relax in his grip because the soft drag of his fingers now slides between the seam of your sex.

Two thick fingers slowly spread the glossy lips of your pussy, brushing your straining clit in the process. Joel’s gaze is fixed there, almost as if he’s marveling at how wet you are. You shudder gently at his intense scrutiny, noting that Joel's eyes flick to yours when you do. You breathe shallowly, eyes wide and mouth parted.

Joel lowers his mouth to where his fingers still hold you open. With his dark eyes fixed on you, he gives a slow, languid lick of his flattened tongue over your clit. The sight and sensation causes you to immediately jolt, pleasure tearing through your middle.

Joel Miller’s mouth is between your legs.

You still can’t quite comprehend that this is happening to you. Goose bumps rise up all over your body, every sense quivering with arousal. Joel isn’t smirking, but it almost feels like he could be when you swallow thickly.

"He ever do this?” he rumbles. “Your friend?"

He says friend like others would say asshole.

"N-no," you say with a fluttering of your pulse. "Never had time."

"But there was time to suck his cock," Joel says with derision clear in his voice. “Time to ride him?”

You want to defend your old friend and point out the irony considering the past you and Joel share, but then his mouth is back there between your legs and all words leave you.

With his soulful eyes closing, Joel repeats the previous action with his tongue once, twice and then a third lingering time that has you grunting in the back of your throat, hips rolling against his mouth.

He pulls his mouth off you slightly and in the low firefight you see the web of saliva and slick that join his tongue to your cunt. It's lascivious and obscene and you feel as fresh arousal gathers there just at the sight.

You feel exposed, suddenly vulnerable with his mouth between your thighs. You go to close them but Joel's eyes snap open to scorch a blazing path up at you.

Obey.

Despite him saying nothing out loud, you swallow, nodding. He seems satisfied because he gives your clit a soft lave that makes you swallow a groan. You have a moment of confusion, wondering why he’s doing this all of a sudden.

"Joel I -"

"I like doin' this," he tells you almost frustrated at your sudden discomfort. "So just let me."

You watch as he slides his hands beneath the back of your legs, urging them to rise. You go limp, curious when he maneuvers your legs over his broad shoulders, hinging at the knee.

His mouth is level with your pussy now, more easily accessible and this seems to please him before Joel's lips begin to kiss slowly over pussy, making out with it in a way your mouth has never felt.

You have no desire for the pleasure to stop.

You feel his lips sponging along your mound before the fingers holding you open spread you further, allowing him to probe deeply with the thick muscle of his tongue, making the most deliciously vulgar wet sound as he does. His nose grazes your clit as he does this, fucking you with his tongue and teasing your clit.

You nearly capitulate off the sofa at that sensation. The deep thrust of his tongue twisting within your sopping core as you huff out little whines while the plush pout of his lips working against the dripping between your legs.

He breathes heavily through his nose, not wanting to break the connection of his mouth on your cunt as he gazes at you. He sees the way your head tilts back, the way your thighs slightly turn inward. He holds your hips down, thumbs absently stroking over the skin there before coming to cradle the lips of your pussy, allowing him better access to your aching clit.

He groans at one point, a low, sinful thing accompanied by a wet kissing sound that has your nipples tightening almost painfully under the blanket. Your hips roll lazily under the sensation, whimpering slightly when his tongue comes to flick over your swollen clit time and time again.

When his eyes drift closed you feel your body tightening. You lift your hips instinctively and you almost believe that you can feel Joel smirk against your cunt. For some reason that’s what has a white hot pleasure shooting up your middle as you rush towards your release.

“Oh f-f-fuck-“

You suddenly tilt backwards, as Joel's hands grip your hips tightly, fingertips dimpling your flesh as his mouth continues it steady dance against your pussy.

“There it is,” Joel murmurs against your cunt as you begin to keen loudly.

Everything in your body tightens and your back arches. Your toes curl into the soft of the couch as Joel works his mouth continuously through your shuddering cry of pleasure. He allows your thighs to squeeze the side of his head as your hands grip uselessly at your sides.

Joel laps at the pooling essence between your thighs, groaning as he does it. Your heartbeat flutters at the sight, his eyes rolled back and his mouth working hurriedly over your sex, making obscene sucking noises. You can only whimper down at him, hips rolling lazily against his searching mouth.

And then all at once Joel’s hands slide beneath your bottom, grasping large handfuls of your ass, holding you firmly in place so that his tongue can probe deeper.

"Another," Joel commands, licking flat swipes along your cunt, the tip of his tongue flicking your clit. Your thighs tremble and you give frantic little huffing cries at the sensation that seems to be building again.

"I-I cant-"

"You will," Joel tells you sharply, lips coming to circle your clit once more before sucking it into his mouth and you see fireworks behind your eyes. His words swim through your veins, much like they always do. Another. Another. Another.

He orders you obey.

He leads you follow.

You give his name out with a lusty cry and for the first time this evening you touch him. Your hands go to his thick curls and you clutch there desperately, needing to ground yourself, needing him as deep as possible, needing him.

He doesn’t shake you off and doesn’t demand you not touch him. If anything he seems to suck harder and you think you see his hips beginning to thrust against the couch. His arms banded over your waist hold you in place, his head shaking back and forth.

"Joel! I'm gonna... Gonna..."

"C'mon then," Joel urges between sloppy kisses to your cunt. "Fuckin’ do it."

Your hips pitch off the creaking sofa, rutting into Joel's mouth with abandon. You hear him groaning with approval and that sends your head tilting back as the pleasure rocks through you.

Joel gives a shudder, his lips trembling around your clit as you feel yourself coming down. He continues to suck gently, eyes closed. With trembling fingers you touch his cheek lightly, your body overwhelmed.

"S'enough," you tell him through gasps. "Can't... Can't do any more."

He nods and leans back slowly onto his knees, one hand on the back of the couch.

You go to tell him that you'll do the same for him. Your hand even reaches out towards him but it stops halfway when you see the wide damp spot at the front of his blanket.

He came.

When you tear your eyes to go to his face Joel is daring you to say something. His dark eyes are glittering in his face as he stares you down. His mouth is wet with your arousal.

But you can't ask: Joel did you just come while you were going down on me?

Even though you want to because the thought turns you on more than you can explain. That just your pleasure was enough for him to climax.

“Thank you,” you whisper, unsure of what to say in such a moment. The corner of Joel’s mouth twitches in amusement.

“You’re welcome.”

Your eyes are on his abdomen, the scar there in the firelight twisted and obvious. It’s fresher than the other ones that litter his body. You want to ask him how it happened, you want to ask him why he did this tonight, you want to ask him so many more questions but you feel sobered up and too intimidated to ask him.

When you don't say anything more Joel leans forward again, eyes stuck on you. Your legs are still there on his shoulders and you go to move them off.

"I can’t do anything more." You feel your eyelids growing heavy, like each one has a tiny weight at the corner pulling down. "I'm tired."

"Go to sleep then," he tells you, rich baritone against your legs. You feel his lips grazing along your inner thighs, slow, gentle things, taking their time. “Don’t need to do anything but lay there.”

"What about you?"

"Not tired yet. ‘Sides it’s my watch."

You feel his mouth drifting over the seam of your thigh, breathing in your skin. His lips are petal soft and he’s doing that same light grazing that makes your eyes close before you slip into the warm and welcoming darkness of sleep.

///

You don't even remember falling asleep but judging by the quieting of the storm it's been a while. The fire is dim, but not out.

But that's not what has woken you.

It's the steadily building orgasm being coaxed out of you by the man still there between your thighs. You can't see him, but you feel his heavy mouth there. Has he just been there licking and sucking as you slept?

You make a croaking hum deep in your throat as your hips slowly begin to roll against his mouth. You can't see Joel's face in the semi darkness, but you just know he's looking at you.

You feel your climax building, pushing you to let out little whines. Joel's mouth takes you there, licking just hard enough to have your legs trembling. A husky order from somewhere in the darkened night.

"Go on then.”

You feel everything in you release at those three words. The delicious tension unwinding itself from your body as you come against his tongue.

"Good girl."

Only then does Joel remove your thighs from over his shoulders. He closes them gently like the pages of a cherished book before pulling your blanket back down over your body.

"Thank you," you croak out to him. It doesn't seem like enough but it must be because Joel gives a grunt. You feel his body lift from off the sofa. You want to see what he does next but you feel so relaxed and you're so tired.

Just so fucking tired.

///

You wake up too early the next morning, when the sky is still bleeding pink into the start of the day. You blink sleepily up at the window, confused that you’re so warm and cozy despite the fire being dead.

Belatedly you realize you’re sandwiched between the back of the couch and something warm and hard. The disorientation of sleep slowly seeps from you and you realize that you're snuggled up against Joel's back with your arm slung over his waist.

Memories of last night make your cheeks burn. Joel's mouth on you, the way he took his time. The way he came. Something about that fact makes your throat run dry.

His torso is bare and up so close to him you can see the small array of freckles along his tanned shoulders like a golden galaxy. He’s so broad, his body nearly falling off the edge of the couch as he sleeps on.

He's very still, his breathing slow and even. You peer up and see the threads of grey in his dark hair shining in the almost dead fire. You want to touch it, to see if it's as soft as it looks but you don’t dare.

His spine is under his taut flesh just inches from your mouth. You don't press your mouth to his skin but you can't help but inhale, shocked at how comforting the scent of leather and homemade soap is.

And while you should start the day and get as far away from Joel Miller as possible, there’s something about this moment that feels better than you can explain. It makes it so that your forehead presses against his spine and your front goes flush with his back. It makes you sigh softly as your eyes grow heavy and sleep pulls you back under.

---------------------------

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366 notes · View notes

sundrop-writes · 3 months

Note

Okay but Emily or JJ kinks headcanons?

Okay, nothing fancy or over-edited, right off the top of my head:

(Reader is intended to gender neutral - let me know if I flubbed anywhere, and there is mentions of Will x JJ. I'm not gonna list the kinks like I would for a typical fic because this is basically just a big list of kinks lmao. Don't click through if you're uncomfortable with mentions of BDSM and anal.)

Emily would have a Mommy kink.

But she would also have a Mistress kink? Or she would love being called M'am. She would love a title. She loves it when you call her by a title that nobody else can call her.

I feel like Emily would be the type of person who would love BDSM as a lifestyle - she would love casual dominance and being called by her title being closed doors even if you're not engaged in a sexual act. She would be obsessed with having a partner who is willing to strip naked and wait, sitting pretty for her when she comes home.

She would also love collaring for that reason - because she would love the idea of owning you. (She would also definitely get you a pet tag with her name on it, or something that says 'property of Emily'.) And she would get you some kind of necklace with the letter E on it to wear casually in public so people subtly know that you're hers when you're not wearing your collar.

She loves the idea of owning you, not just because she sees you as property, but because she understands under the BDSM lifestyle, she takes care of you fully - making sure that you eat, drink enough water, take care of your health, and she will fully assume that role because taking care of you means that she gets to come home to a willing fuckhole that she can use however she wants, and she will take care of your body because she loves you and loves that body - as much as she will punish you and fuck you senseless when you both need that too.

She has a strap and she loves to use it on you. She also definitely loves to fuck you in the ass - with lots and lots of lube. She loves fucking all your holes, including your throat. (Because she owns them.)

I feel like Emily would have a pain kink. She definitely loves delivering pain and seeing you squirm (as long as you're into it) - she loves spanking and seeing the results; seeing how you can barely walk or sit down properly days after. And she might use a tool like a paddle or a flogger, but she loves a good ole fashioned hand spanking, because she loves feeling the glow on her palm of the skin to skin collisions.

She is also obsessed with rules. It's one of the reasons that she loves BDSM. She will make so many rules for you - when you can cum, when you can and can't touch yourself, when you can use your toys, what specific consequences you get if you break the rules.

She will also make rules for when you're supposed to eat and that you're supposed to eat healthy, and how much water you're supposed to drink in a day - because she demands that your (slutty) body belongs to her, and you have to take care of it if you want her to touch you.

Emily is a hard dom in my opinion - I don't think she would sub for anyone. She loves being in charge, and she is looking for a pet that she can fuck senseless and take care of - that's what she wants out of a relationship.

As for JJ?

JJ is a lot softer.

I think JJ is a switch. I think JJ could be a sub to the right person (and that person is not Will - in that relationship, she walks him like a dog. Henry was conceived by Will begging to nut and JJ giving him permission) - anyway, JJ could be a sub, but it would have to be to a really bossy, demanding person (like Emily) - otherwise she is dominant and bossy and in control.

JJ probably also has a Mommy kink. It's probably not something she would ask to be called - but she would love it if it slipped out of your mouth by accident, and she would be sooo turned on by you calling her that.

I feel like JJ would have a thing for pet names - she would call you baby, honey, sweetie, sweet pea, etc. she would call you so many different pet names, and if she found one that really made you shy or turned you on, then she would press on with that one and call you that all the time. She loves getting a reaction out of you.

She loves soft sex and making love. She is the type of person to kiss all over your body and body worship you with her mouth - definitely into heavy, heavy verbal praise. Again, she loves getting a reaction out of you, and if she sees that verbal praise makes you shrink back in shyness or makes you moan extra hard, then she will pour it on even thicker - tell you how perfect you are, how beautiful you are, how gorgeous you look while you're cumming.

She also loves teasing. She loves to see your reaction when your body slowly winds up - when you're becoming more turned on, when your muscles are tensing and your hips are surging forward toward her touch, silently begging for more. In this same vein, she also does enjoy orgasm denial (but not to a severe degree) - because she loves to wind you up and see how whiny and desperate you get when she pulls back her touch right before you cum. She does love to hear you beg for her and say her name when you beg to cum - but she is the type of person to only deny you once (maybe twice) before letting you cum.

Aaaaand what else ? JJ is super touchy imo. So I feel like she would love running her hands all over your body during sex, and she would need cuddles after sex. She loves skin on skin touching when it's simple and gentle on top of mindblowing orgasms (and giving you orgasms).

(That's all I've got for now).

#sundrop writes #requests #requested #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss smut #emily prentiss headcanons #jennifer jareau #jennifer jareau x reader #jennifer jareau smut #jennifer jareau headcanons

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palms-upturned · 1 year

Text

I’m not gonna jump in ppl’s notes over this bc lord knows I do not want to have a debate about it but seeing someone say “I have qualms about people calling Jean ableist for trying to fire Harry and in the same breath saying Harry is unfit for cop work” is really getting to me. I am practically on my knees begging people to actually engage with what disco elysium has to say about disability and addiction and ableism and policing and social murder because it’s not even subtextual, it’s as blatant and hand holding as it could possibly be. The 41st is an awful environment for Harry not bc him being disabled makes him incapable of doing his job, it’s bc the job is fucking hostile to his existence. Like, no one is “fit” to be a cop because they shouldn’t exist, firstly, and even Harry himself will say as much in the Ruby bad ending. But talking about Harry’s case specifically, we know that this job is part of what landed him where he is to begin with.

From the start of day 2:

ELECTROCHEMISTRY — You mean why are you so tired? Too tired and *down* to even think? It *is* worrying, isn't it. You can't be a detective like this -- detectives need to be able to think.

YOU — Why is this happening?

ELECTROCHEMISTRY — It's just that your heart has finally pumped all the *speed* out of your system, buster. Time to get some more.

YOU — Wait. What *is*... speed?

ELECTROCHEMISTRY — Speed is a potent central nervous system stimulant. It kept you propped up all day yesterday despite your debilitating hangover. How else did you think you even got up from this floor?

VOLITION — You got up from this floor because of a holy vow you made sixteen years ago. With *me*. To wake up exactly 07:30 every morning until the day you die.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY — Don't be silly. There was no vow. You were high on speed. That was the only reason you got up. You can't *detect* without it, it's that simple.

YOU — No. I can take this. I am not going to go looking for speed.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY — Are you sure? Ready to live as this pathetic shell of yourself for days? Basically a week? Let's be honest -- two weeks, maybe three? You won't make it. Half the town will be dead by then. You will be fired.

YOU — That's a lie. I can do this without the speed. Half the town won't be dead... (Opt out.)

ELECTROCHEMISTRY — Suit yourself, slow, sad shell-man. See how you do without your spark.

And from this talk with Kim in Klaasje’s room:

KIM KITSURAGI — "Amphetamine -- does it make you a better detective?"

SUGGESTION — Be honest. He's not grilling you, he just wants to know. Ask if he's ever wanted to take it too.

YOU — "Honestly, it makes me the detective I am. Have you thought of taking it too?"

KIM KITSURAGI — "Maybe I should?" He lets out a little pensive hum, rubbing his shoulder...

DRAMA — It's not insincere. He's actually giving it thought.

KIM KITSURAGI — "Doesn't the... pupils and the gurning jaw, the sweating... doesn't it become tiring after a while?"

YOU — "I understand it's unbecoming but if I don't perform this job well I am nothing. It's the price I pay."

Harry knows that the cost of getting sober would be that the precinct would let him go. They’re not going to have the patience to deal with him slowing down from the combo of withdrawal and no speed to “keep him propped up.” Not when the reason that he’s stayed on the force this long and risen in the ranks is most likely because he manages such a massive caseload, as we find out from Kim:

YOU — "Is two cases a week a good case load, lieutenant?"

KIM KITSURAGI — "Huh?" He raises his nose from his notes. "Two *complex* cases to undertake is a lot, yes. You *really* have to push yourself. I would not suggest it. Lest you start making mistakes."

YOU — "Two cases a week appears to have been my load, lieutenant. I'm not sure I completed them though."

KIM KITSURAGI — "Two?" He raises both eyebrows. "That's a lot. I didn't mean to say you're making mistakes, by the way. That was presumptuous of me."

And later:

KIM KITSURAGI — "This next row -- the one that wraps all the way around -- is your number of closed cases. *Closed* is good. It means finished. You've got, let's see..."

KIM KITSURAGI — "Wow, more than 200!"

YOU — "Is that a lot?"

KIM KITSURAGI — "It's *quite* a lot, even for someone who's been on the force for nearly two decades. Usually clearing more than 10 cases a year puts you in the 90th percentile of *all* RCM officers..."

Despite the trouble Harry makes, he’s considered an asset so long as he closes cases. To the point where he wasn’t punished for drunkenly beating Burke unconscious and then injuring his knee so badly that he can’t walk anymore just because this allowed them to close the “unsolvable case” of Leslie and Burke. 41 and the RCM as an institution don’t care about Harry’s or anyone else’s wellbeing, they care about whether the pros of having him around outweigh the cons.

From the lazareth call with Gottlieb:

YOU — "Isn't there *anything* you can do for me?"

NIX GOTTLIEB — "What, you want me to do blood work for you again, tell you just how bad things really are *across the board*? You want another rundown of everything collapsing inside your body?"

YOU — "Yes. I want the truth!"

NIX GOTTLIEB — "You want the real, honest-to-god truth? Stop drinking, eat magnesium and vitamin D. Our station is not a retirement home. We don't have the funds to deal with *rock stars* past their prime."

RHETORIC — So it's political! You're being *neglected* because of political reasons...

NIX GOTTLIEB — "And no, I *don't* want to hear a *political commentary* on the topic. In fact -- I've got work to do."

If I were to quote every time Gottlieb was notably uncaring or said something blasé about how you probably didn’t have long to live, I’d have to quote pretty much every word of that dialogue. That’s the whole joke with Gottlieb. That’s just how it is dealing with doctors when you’re in Harry’s position.

From talking to Kim about Uuno:

KIM KITSURAGI — "We could take him to Remedie or Saint Batiste, but he doesn't have money for medical services. The Almshouse would turn him down..."

KIM KITSURAGI — "They don't do charity for people who're trying to kill themselves. Besides, he'll be dead in a few..." The lieutenant stops, listening to him.

RHETORIC — ... years? Months? Weeks?

“They don’t do charity work for people who’re trying to kill themselves” really sums up the absurdity of Harry’s situation and institutional responses to it. Harry isn’t seen as the kind of person in crisis who deserves intervention. He’s treated as a lost cause who deserves to suffer the consequences of his self harm, even though the unending crisis and the lack of response to it is what drives him to harm himself and hope that he “gets worse.” If he weren’t a cop, it’s unlikely that Kim would care about him any more than he cares about Uuno and Cuno’s situation. Harry’s job is killing him, but it’s also the only thing that gives him access to anything resembling a community or support network (at least at the start of the game). Again, that’s just the way it goes when you’re disabled.

From the second tribunal:

TRANT HEIDELSTAM — "Well -- here is my theory: What if this is an absolutely normal reaction to the world we're living in? What if this is *not* a significant anomaly at all, something to be explained, approached as a defect? Look at the sensory input here..." He gestures toward the scenery.

TRANT HEIDELSTAM — "Look at the ruins, the neon, listen to the radio, the multitudes. The people. Live here for forty years... As a police detective, he's like a magnetic reader on the world-tape -- to borrow a known metaphor. Harry's been pushed *flat against it*. Total input."

TRANT HEIDELSTAM — "Hard-wired to the free market..." He nods confidently. "He just needed for it to end."

JEAN VICQUEMARE — "Okay, Trant, thank you. That's... absolutely meaningless. I'm glad we brought you. Will he or will he not be able to work in the Major Crimes Unit? Is he a cretin now? I want to know *that*."

TRANT HEIDELSTAM — "He is *not* a cretin. And he *is* able to do work -- if not in his previous leadership role, then as a line detective."

YOU — "Line detective is good for now."

JEAN VICQUEMARE — "For *now*?" He looks at you, then at Trant. "I misphrased my question. It should have been: Is he able to put his clothes on, and use the potty, or do we need to get him on a disability pension?"

Or, alternatively:

YOU — "He's wrong. I'm too far gone for work."

JEAN VICQUEMARE — "Agreed, Harry." He nods. "Just don't expect us to get you a disability pension. Cops who actually gave a shit are waiting in line. You're not gonna hog their seat."

Trant, who, notably, is technically a civilian consultant rather than a cop, (edit: and maybe even more notably, as someone pointed out in the tags, has had experience with addiction, too) suggests to Jean that Harry’s breakdown is a basically inevitable result of his circumstances and the systems that created them, and Jean’s response is that he doesn’t care and all that he wants to know is whether or not Harry can work or if he’s going to be “hogging” resources from other people who are more deserving of help because they “actually gave a shit.” He’s a mouthpiece here for the institutions that he represents and his ableism is blatant and heinous to drive the point home. He denies that Harry’s case is as serious as it is and accuses Harry of faking it, despite the fact that it’s happened (at least) twice before, and very recently:

JEAN VICQUEMARE — "I believe you *drank*. People do that -- you especially. What they don't do is forget their *whole life* because of drinking."

JUDIT MINOT — "But, Detective Vicquemare," she interjects. "He *has* blanked out before."

YOU — "I have?"

JUDIT MINOT — "Yes, a couple of times. After some of the more... serious benders." She pauses, remembering. "One was after the Two Drunks case, the other when we looked into that mural."

REACTION SPEED — The two cases... in your ledger. The Unsolvable Case and the Next World Mural. Those were recent.

And despite the fact that even Gottlieb doesn’t seem shocked about it:

YOU — "I've lost my memory. All of it."

NIX GOTTLIEB — "With all the damage you've been dealing yourself with drugs and alcohol, I'm not surprised."

AUTHORITY — There is no surprise in his voice. Only careless superiority.

DRAMA — It's hard to say if he doesn't believe you -- or doesn't care.

(Considering that Gottlieb’s PSY stat is so high (he’s even eating one of the PSY boosting candies during the call), along with his uncaring responses to all your other problems, it’s more likely the latter.)

Jean also won’t believe that you’re sober even if you haven’t touched so much as a cigarette for your entire playthrough, and even when Judit points out that he’s wrong, he’ll double down and say that it doesn’t matter because you’re going to relapse:

JEAN VICQUEMARE — "Even the insect -- I don't care. But you're an *alcoholic*. And you've been drinking -- again. I won't let my life unravel because of this."

JUDIT MINOT — "Jean -- I think he hasn't. I can see it on his face..."

ENDURANCE — The bloating *has* gone down since you woke up that morning...

JEAN VICQUEMARE — "Okay, so he's stayed clear for what? A week?" He sighs.

TRANT HEIDELSTAM — "It's tough. One of the toughest addictions to overcome. Comparable *only* to heavy synthetic opiates. Even morphine is easier to kick than alcohol -- statistically. The odds are against him. Especially at his age."

JEAN VICQUEMARE — He nods. "He's too old. He's been like this for too long. I've seen him try many times. It's a farce by now."

SUGGESTION — They're leaving. They're all turning away from you.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY — No. You can figure it out. *Replace* it! Replace the alcohol with amphetamine. Or GBL! Fuck it -- morphine! Graffito removal agent! Anything. It'll buy you time. All you need is time.

Electrochemistry brings up yet another facet of Harry’s struggles with substances, which is the idea that some of them may be replacements for alcohol. He doesn’t have time or space to try to quit in any way that is remotely healthy. What he has are substances like speed that keep him from collapsing from the strain of it all so that he can keep showing up to work, and other substances that might (he hopes) help him wean himself off the alcohol.

The game explores all of these different factors of Harry’s struggles with addiction and the circumstances that keep him trapped in them exhaustively (and the fact that Robert Kurvitz apparently was recovering from alcoholism during the development probably contributed a lot to that). The structure and culture of the RCM are hugely responsible for Harry’s situation. He’s mocked and berated for being an alcoholic and told repeatedly to get his shit together without actually providing him with the means to do that. Instead, he’s not only enabled but practically forced to keep using just so that he can show up to work at all and not risk losing the only support network he has (even if it’s the shittiest and most unhelpful network imaginable). As Luiga (iirc) said, Harry’s biggest tragedy is that he’s incapable of quitting the force. Many of the reasons for that are genuinely just due to Harry being a class traitor and an asshole, but it’s also true that even if he did want to quit, there is no safety net to catch him.

And then Harry comes to Martinaise, a town that has been “orphaned” by the RCM and neglected by Revachol at large, left mostly to their own devices. It’s not like policing doesn’t still exist in Martinaise, and things are pretty dire for everyone in the community, but at the very least you can see that it is a community. Isobel houses you for free. In Kim’s absence (and after Gottlieb stitches and ditches you), Cuno and Garte take care of you when you’re shot. Acele responds to your breakdown on the ice by saying it’s okay to cry and that you can talk with her about it when you’re ready. Idiot Doom Spiral and co run to your aid when they see you drive your car into the sea and invite you to come drink with them just to stop you from doing it again. Harry discovers that life, while very painful and bleak at times, isn’t necessarily hopeless for the marginalized. You can still find solidarity and support outside of the system.

Meanwhile, if Harry in the end has no one to vouch for him and hasn’t stayed sober, that system will abandon him, a well-known suicide risk with at least one bullet hole in him and severe amnesia, with the promise of nothing but getting served a station call slip. The point is not whether or not Harry “deserves” to be forgiven or even whether he’s a danger to himself and others (to be clear, he is). The point is that this is a system that doesn’t care whether Harry and people like him live or die. That is why, even in a “good” ending where Harry is welcomed back to the 41st, the work won’t be sustainable. It’s going to kill him because that’s what it’s designed to do. The miracle of Martinaise was the realization that he doesn’t have to die. There are people who will help to keep him on this earth. They’re just not members of the fucking RCM.

It’s not a “gotcha” to say that if Jean (and the RCM, and the institutions of Revachol on the whole) is ableist for wanting Harry fired, then saying that cop work is unsustainable for Harry is also ableist. I won’t even say what I personally think of that logic because I’m trying to keep the tone of this post polite. Jean’s dialogue during the tribunal is meant to parrot every bit of ableist rhetoric that the system is built on and that keeps Harry trapped in this hellish feedback loop. He’s a mouthpiece for the general culture of the RCM, just like Gottlieb is a mouthpiece for the shit that addicts and the disabled have to deal with from the medical system. He thinks Harry should be fired because he’s a drunk and therefor a lost cause. The truth is that Harry needs to quit this job because it shouldn’t exist and because it is actively killing him.

In one of Martin Luiga’s articles about the process of creating the game, he brings up the concept of social murder, which is a term coined by Engels:

When one individual inflicts bodily injury upon another such that death results, we call the deed manslaughter; when the assailant knew in advance that the injury would be fatal, we call his deed murder. But when society places hundreds of proletarians in such a position that they inevitably meet a too early and an unnatural death, one which is quite as much a death by violence as that by the sword or bullet; when it deprives thousands of the necessaries of life, places them under conditions in which they cannot live – forces them, through the strong arm of the law, to remain in such conditions until that death ensues which is the inevitable consequence – knows that these thousands of victims must perish, and yet permits these conditions to remain, its deed is murder just as surely as the deed of the single individual; disguised, malicious murder, murder against which none can defend himself, which does not seem what it is, because no man sees the murderer, because the death of the victim seems a natural one, since the offence is more one of omission than of commission. But murder it remains.

None of this is subtext. And all of it is intended to make players actually spare a thought for what it’s like for people in Harry’s situation in real life. For God’s sake, please engage with it. You have to try and understand what it means to be trapped in a life that is made unlivable and to know that your death will be ungrievable. That’s what this whole game is about.

Edit: I’ve seen some ppl say in the tags something like “yeah, I like to imagine a happy ending for Harry, but…” and listen. I am laying a very gentle hand on your shoulders. The point of this post was never to say that there’s no happy ending for Harry. The point is that the first step toward that ending is conceptualizing a life outside of the RCM. In Martinaise, he got a glimpse of what that might look like. Hell, in the bad ending, you can even say to Jean, “fine then. I’ll just live here.” There’s hope for him and for us. I promise.

#meg talks #disco elysium #i have been seething over this all day. sorry.#i’ll be nice and won’t tag any characters mentioned here

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jester089 · 7 months

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I feel I need to balance this angst out, do this AFTER you’ve done the others and given yourself time to chill…I’ve got my eyes on you…

Anyhow, how’s about the TADC gang all seperate with an s/o who’s just the definition of ‘chill’. They are the best comfort partner (just behind Kinger ofc), they comfort, share and engage in hobbies, show small signs of affection like soft side hugs and gentle butterfly kisses to the cheeks or neck, an ear to listen and a shoulder to cry on. Will also 100% piggyback/bridal carry their significant other if asked or for fun. Just a pure wholesome fuzzy mess.

Lazy days

This is just going to be what I think their hobbies and all are. As it's a fluffy request I'm going to do softer not cannon versions of everyone. TADC crew x Chill/Relaxed Reader

Caine

Caine can be an incredibly busy man/AI so try and make him take breaks. He gets to caught up in work because he's so worried that if he doesn't have fun things to do then people will start abstracting. So when you walk into his office gently pick him up and sit down in his chair with him now sitting on your lap it helps him snap out of it. He isn't going to stop still. But he really appreciates you being there. You being there and every now and again giving him an idea you had makes the work take longer, but makes it much more enjoyable. You'll honestly probably end up falling asleep on him, arms wrapped around him head on his shoulder. Sadly he doesn't have a neck, or any real exposed skin. So kisses will be a little rough but that isn't gonna stop you. It is a little weird kissing a giant set of teeth though. And second he finished up, or at least reaches a point where he can stop you pick him up and take him to your bed. Sometimes he'll tunnel vision to much on something and you'll have to do that anyways. It's like holding an angry cat when that happens, minus the claws.

Gangle

Gangle loves affection but isn't amazing at giving nor receiving it. Any time you do anything she can and will blush. And if you protect her from Jax. Putty Gangle has arrived. How relaxed you are despite everything happening helps her out a lot. I headcannon that she loves working with clay, like making pottery and all. But sadly with her ribbon hands she can't do it anymore. Or rather couldn't, cause you help her out. You two will sit in front of a potters wheel. You have her place her hands on the outside of yours and you just let her lead. (I have made plenty of pottery in my time and I can safely say it is incredibly hard to do.) Sadly unless your helping her with something she doesn't let you in her pottery station anymore. You tried to make a mug for her without her and it didn't go well. You didn't know the first thing about pottery when she wasn't guiding you so it ended up blowing up in the kiln. You felt really bad. Cuddles with Gangle are a little strange. She doesn't have any real body weight so it really does feel like your cuddling a piece of ribbon (for good reason). So you two came up with something. You got a body pillow that's around her height and when you two are cuddling she'll wrap around it so she has more mass. When she needs some comfort you'll know. Whenever she's in a really bad mood and wants you touch but doesn't really want to say it she'll exist really close to you and start gently wrapping one of her arms around yours. Overall 10/10, she's a giant sweetheart and your lucky you got her. So treat her well yeah?

Zooble

I recommend bringing some kind of hoodie or blanket with you. Her edges can be a little harsh on the body. Out of everyone Zooble is the highest chance of most cuddles. She never gets involved in adventures and avoids the others when she can. Which basically just means more alone time with her. Zooble has a lot of insecurities concerning her new body and the circus. You're the only one she trust enough with that kind of thing so don't downplay her thoughts and emotions. The main way she shows affection is just spending time with you, she isn't big on touch and she doesn't exactly have the resources for gifts. And that worries her, she knows that she can be rude and unpleasant to be around but she doesn't have anything else to offer you. She's not great at communication so you really just need to keep patient and keep loving her. She has a jagged and rough exterior, but it like everything can be broken. It'll just take time.

Kinger

You two make a great bunch. The others never would have thought but if someone is having an especially bad day they go to you two. Kinger is amazing at calming and encouraging words, and your amazing at calming acts and setting up an atmosphere. You've saved a lot from abstraction because of that. Hugs are amazing from him. That royal medieval robe he's wearing is really nice to the touch. Sadly he doesn't have a mouth but he'll try and make up for that with head bonks (Head bonk: To gently place your head against someone you care about to show affection. Usually used when that person isn't comfortable with kisses.) One time you two built an actual castle out of pillows. It took you like a day but it had a working drawbridge and everything! Sadly it was broken during an adventure but it was really fun to build with Kinger. He can get a little... Unstable... When that happens a tight hug and a kiss can usually snap him out of it. But if that doesn't work bring him back to your room. The atmosphere you have set up and the fact that it smells like you will help him out a lot.

Ragatha

Once again you two make a good combo. She holds people off from breaking down. But if she can't stop it then she sends em to you. So once again you two help with abstraction a lot. But poor baby is stressed and you help provide some needed relief. I see her as the type of if she was expecting a kiss or a hug she'll hug/kiss back and thank you. If she wasn't she turns into a blushing mess with a big ol dopey smile on her face. Something she appreciates a lot is more childish things. Like if you start up a pillow fight with her she will be ecstatic. But be warned her pillows hit like a truck. Not cause their different just because she's really good at pillow fights. Her fav cuddle type is the honeymoon hug (look it up). She gets to be close to you and give you smooches if she wants. And she gets to feel like she's protecting you. She is the mom friend and you annoy her by saying over the top things like. "Ok MOM" when she asks you to stop doing something. First few times she hated it but now she goes along with it sayng things like "Hey! Don't talk back to me. Give me your phone you're grounded." She never means it though.

Jax

I think Jax is the most stable person in the circus. I'm saying he's mentally ok I'm just saying that he is by far at the least risk for abstraction. Whenever Jax plays a joke on someone and you go to help calm them down he gets a little jealous. He knows you love him but he doesn't really like you talking to others. So don't be surprised if you're in the middle of comforting someone and he just picks you up and walks away. He can be a little mean so for your own sake try and not take his words to heart. He just by second nature starts pointing things out that he dislikes, and often he starts pointing out things on/to do with you before he realizes. He also won't apologize so just try and ignore it. He sorta makes up for it with affection though. Cause he's pretty affectionate. Most of it is teasing yes, like he's come out of no where kiss your cheek and use a pet name that flusters you then just leave like he didn't do anything. But he's surprisingly gentle when it comes to that kind of thing. I see him being the type where you two fall asleep in the same bed and you wake up with him having his arms and legs around you probably drooling on your forehead. Or he's one of those that take up the whole bed so you often wake up on the floor. Many say that opposites attract. And you two are very different. But that isn't a bad thing.

Pomni

You two are opposites in a lot of ways. She is anxious and constantly in a state of panic/worry. And you never are. So you help her a lot. I see her being kind of like a cat towards you. Constantly around you and or begging for attention. I have an idea that I came up with a few years ago. It's a hoodie with a giant pocket inside. Like one of those baby carriers but minus the straps and inside the hoodie so who/whatever you keep in there share warmth. And she loves it. You two can be relaxing in your room and she'll realize something and spring off the bed you two were on. She and will turn the entire place upside down looking for it (https://www.tiktok.com/@louiencoco/video/7214862848042831110) so if you don't wanna have to clean up later just show her where it is. On a more serious note though you two were a match made in heaven and with enough time you could make a genuine improvement in her mental health. The main reason she's so fragile mentally is cause she never gets/got a break. So her favorite activity with you is probably just relaxing in one of your rooms away from the others.

(Tumblr deleted this like 3 times while I was writing it. And it turned out kind of bad because of that. Sorry but don't blame me. Blame tumblr.)

xoxo, Jester

#tadc x reader #the amazing digital circus x reader #caine x reader #gangle x reader #zooble x reader #kinger x reader #ragatha x reader #jax x reader #pomni x reader #noob author #not beta'd

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katiexpunk · 8 months

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AO3 | Notifications | KoFi About Me

Hi, I'm Katie! I'm just a lil fic writer trying to make her way on this hell site and write things that make people turned on happy.

- I'm a cancer sun, taurus moon, libra rising. - When I'm not writing, you'll find me teaching yoga or doing improv. - I love to make new friends, so feel free to slide into my DMs and ask me anything, send in a request, or just say hi. About My Work/This Blog - I write for Pedro Pascal characters, but you'll find I mostly write for Joel because that's my man. While I will often thirst over Pedro here, I won't write RPF.

- My DM's are always open, and I love getting asks or requests. My blog is a safe space. - All of my work is character x fem!Reader. I try to be inclusive as possible in my work to make it immersive and welcoming, and I don't provide identifying descriptions such as eye, hair, or skin color. I also avoid non-inclusive terms such as "blushing." I'm not perfect. If you find my work to be non-inclusive in some way, please let me know! - You'll catch me dead before I use Y/N. - I love supporting people on this platform, especially newer blogs. I'm pretty vocal about the importance of reblogging and engaging with people here in a respectful way. I'm also more than happy to beta! - I do not consent to my work being fed to AI or used to make chat bots. ++++ Most Recent Fics:

+ Overloaded + Scarlet Haze - Part 1 | Part 2 + Fuck Me, Fill Me | Thoroughly Fucked, Thoroughly Filled

∞ smut | ⊙ fluff/slow burn | ❥ dark themes/check warnings | ☁ angst

Series:

Scarlet Haze - Ongoing ∞⊙❥☁ Pairing Joel Miller X fem!Reader Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 - Coming 5/26 | AO3 Summary: Life in the QZ was fairly predictable. That was until Joel Miller showed up on your doorstep covered in blood. Since then, you've helped him more times than you can count. Now, it's his turn to return the favor.

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Sex On Fire - Complete ∞⊙ Pairing Firefighter!Joel Miller x fem!reader Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | AO3 Series Summary: You're a country girl in the big city, thanks to your generous aunt. You expected to have adventures your first year in New York, but what you didn't expect was for your hot, firefighter neighbor, Joel, to be part of them.

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Fuck Me, Fill Me - Complete ∞⊙ Pairing Joel Miller x fem!Reader Part 1 | Part 2 | AO3 Series Summary: Accidents happen all the time — people fall, knives slip, condoms break. You spent years successfully avoiding one. Except things are different now, you're ready for more. Your husband Joel is more than happy to oblige.

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Dream of Me - Complete ∞⊙❥ Pairing Joel Miller x fem!Reader Part 1 | Part 2 | AO3 Summary: In the dark of the night, temptation beckons. You make a silent vow to share your secret with Joel when he wakes tomorrow, but for now, you find yourself unable to resist this opportunity, much like the pulse between your thighs.

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28 Floors - Complete ∞⊙ Pairing Joel Miller x fem!Reader Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | AO3 Series Summary: You're a good girl. A senator's daughter who is always there to show your support to your father. What he doesn't know is that his best friend, Joel Miller, is practically the only real reason you show up to events to support him. After one night of schmoozing, you and Joel end up in an elevator alone together. Joel Miller has 28 floors with you, and you bet he's gonna use them.

One Shots:

Desert Dust ∞⊙❥ Pairing Joel Miller and fem!Reader Joel's POV | AO3 Summary: You're a small-town waitress in a highway town in Arizona with a standard, safe life. You never really thought you needed more -- until you met Joel Miller.

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Overloaded ∞⊙❥ Pairing Joel and Tommy Miller and fem!Reader | AO3 Summary: After catching your ex-boyfriend in your bed with another woman, you pack up and leave. With no money and no car, you end up hitchhiking back to Texas. You're lucky enough to catch a ride with a nice Trucker named Joel. Things quickly heat up between you two, and only get hotter when you meet his brother.er really thought you needed more -- until you met Joel Miller.

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Diner Girl ∞⊙ Pairing Joel Miller x fem!Reader | AO3 Summary: You frequent your local dinner pretty often, not just because you love their pancakes with extra syrup, but because your best friend Sydney is a waitress there. You've heard her talk about her hot boss, Joel, every now and then but you've never had the pleasure of meeting him; that was until one morning, after getting unexpectedly laid off, you decided to drown your feels in syrup and love from your bestie. Joel offers you a job, and he shows you the ropes in more ways than one.

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Crying Over Spilt Detergent ∞⊙☁ Pairing Joel Miller x fem!Reader | AO3 Summary: You've had a no-good, really shitty, bad day. You decide to catch up on your growing laundry pile, only for your day to get worse as you make a giant mess of the detergent. Joel Miller helps you clean it up, and he cheers you up in the process.

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The Art of Noticing ∞☁ Pairing Joel Miller x fem!Reader | AO3 Summary: In the hushed corners of this desolate world, where whispers of yesteryears linger among crumbling ruins, you find a peculiar kind of peace; just like you did when you fell asleep in the darkroom for the first time. Still armed with your camera, even in this new world, you try to keep your heart attuned to the silent narratives of a forsaken universe. You used to think this was your strong suit; to be able to immortalize the unnoticed, to preserve the beauty around you, even in a world of darkness. That was until it almost got you killed. And Joel Miller hates you for it.

++++

Nightmare Before Christmas ∞❥ Pairing dark!Joel Miller x Fem!Reader | AO3 Summary: As an escort, you’ve found yourself in some pretty fucked up situations before. Years of experience have taught you to navigate such situations with a combination of tact and assertiveness. Most of the time the men who exude an air of sleaze shrivel back into the corner, embarrassed and limp dicked. Most of the time. Tonight is not one of those times. This one is dead dove do not eat. Mind the warnings.

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Run the Table ∞☁ Pairing Joel & Tommy Miller x fem!Reader | AO3 Summary: You're home for Christmas, only to find yourself there for the New Year. You decide to blow off some steam, only to end up at Joel's Place, your old local watering hole. Bits of your past get dredged up, and before you know it, Joel and Tommy have you bent over a pool table.

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Tell Me A Secret ∞⊙ Pairing Joel Miller x fem!Reader | AO3 Summary: You're an artist. You aren't quick to share that fact, but Ellie is fast to figure it out. It’s not long before all of Jackson knows. Your favorite muse, though, is Joel Miller. He has no idea. Until he does. A morning horse ride turns into so much more.

Collaborations:

Little Mouse ∞❥☁ Pairing biker!Joel Miller x fem!Reader | AO3 In collaboration with the amazing @josephquinnswhore Summary: Date night. Your favorite. You were dressed up and ready for a good time, only to find out that your sleazeball boyfriend was really just a jerk. Stood up and now alone in a bar on the bad side of town, you quickly come to realize you shouldn’t be there for more reasons than one. An unexpected savior to your shit night, a masked motorcycle rider quite literally saves your life, not caring whose blood was on his hands as a result. His only ask as a token of your appreciation? That you go for a ride with him. What could ever possibly happen?

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Sugar, Spice and Please Fuck Me Nice ∞⊙ Pairing Neighbor!Joel Miller x fem!Reader | AO3 In collaboration with my Slutty Smutty Sister @syd-djarin Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 Summary: Part 3 of @syd-djarin's Sugar, Spice & Please Fuck Me Nice series. Joel is your new hot neighbor and after a sexy night alone with him on Halloween (where he literally makes you squirt (!!) on his couch, you run into him after a long week at work and you two finally go on a proper date. You two eat burgers; go to a fair, and then he fucks you like it's his last day on earth. Yep :)

Drabbles:

The Kind of Love We Make ⊙ Hands, Hands, Hands ∞

One Shots:

Caller Number Nine ∞⊙ Pairing Javier Pena x fem!Reader | AO3 Summary: You're a radio host of a popular late-night segment on relationships, advice and more. After a particularly bad night of calls, your final call of the night takes you by surprise.

++++

Heat Wave ∞☁⊙ Pairing Pairing Javier Pena x fem!Reader | AO3 Summary: In the sweltering haze of a Colombian heatwave, everyone's on edge, including you, your nerves fried crispier than plantains in a hot skillet. Even Javi is not immune - his nights spent tossing and turning, the relentless heat driving him mad. Imagine his surprise - and yours - when he knocks on your door late one night, a little buzzed and sweaty, craving a distraction. What's a generous soul to do but let him in and share some cool, sweet cholado? As the night unfurls, the heat outside might be unbearable, but inside, things are just starting to warm up.

++++

Reporting For Duty ∞⊙ Pairing Javier Pena x fem!Reader | AO3 Summary: You're a flight attendant. You need to be fucked, and that much becomes all the more obvious when a hot, flirty Air Marshal named Javier shows up to fly your leg with you. That's it. That's the fic.

Drabbles:

Edging ∞

Gas, Grass or ASS ∞❥ Pairing mechanic!Frankie Morales x fem!Reader | AO3 Summary: You muster the courage to leave your small town and shitty past behind. Fate, it seems, has other plans. Your beater of a truck breaks down in the middle of the highway, and you get it towed to Catfish Auto & Repair. After finding out you don't have the money to pay, you and Frankie find another way to work it out.

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The Invited ⊙ Pairing Lucien Flores x fem!Reader | AO3 Summary: Lucien Flores is invited back into your life in a very unexpected way, at a very bad time – what are you going to do about it?

Last Update: May 20, 2024

#masterlist

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coveredinsweetpea · 9 months

Note

Do you think Eddie lets his girlfriend hold his dick while he pees? 🥺👉🏼👈🏼

👀 I'm only like 100% sure he does?? I wanted this to be shorter but um I got carried away?? So like 1.4k smut ahead, of the first time you ask Eddie to let you do this and a little bit of how it goes!! 18+ pls OBVI!!

"... oh yeah, mhm, I heard about that…" Eddie hummed along to his neighbors rant about whatever affair they spotted during their daily cigarette break by the window. He lied though, he hadn't heard about it before, and didn't care one bit, but it was the most polite way he could come up with in order to extract himself from the conversation as soon as he could - nod along and wait for an opportunity to mention he left something on the stove.

"... and he had no shame about it, that little rascal …" the neighbor went on. You weren't listening either, but when you squeezed Eddie's ring and pinky finger into your hand and he showed absolutely no signs of taking the hint, you knew it was time to take matters into your own hands.

Nodding along to the rest of the story, you leaned in to grab the groceries bag from Eddie's free hand, hoping the commotion would help speed up the conversation. And it did.

"Ah, you're probably busy" the neighbor said, hands clasped in front of his chest as he prepared to resume his walk, "I'll let you two do your thing, but if you want, I'd love to have you over for a coffee some time"

"Absolutely" Eddie bowed, a huge smile on his face, his enthusiasm most likely rooted in the chance to finally bolt inside. "Maybe during the weekend"

"Sure, of course, let me know. You know how retirement is…"

"Thank you for inviting us" you smiled too and then waved at the man as he said his goodbye and turned to leave.

Eddie barely managed to mumble a poor and hurried "Bye" before forcing the door open. "Fuck!" he cried, throwing his jacket on the floor, the keys on the counter and then rushed further into the trailer.

"Eddie, wait!" you dropped the bags and sprinted after him, barely managing to grab a handful of his shirt as he stepped inside the bathroom, "Eddie, I-"

"Just a second, sweetheart!" he cringed, peeling your hand off his shirt. He kissed your knuckles though and sent you an apologetic smile before disappearing behind the bathroom door.

With a deep frown and a disheartened pout, you stomped your way to where you had dropped the bags earlier, fished out one of the chocolate bars, and plopped down on the couch.

Despite furiously munching at it, you weren't even halfway done with the desert by the time Eddie walked out of the bathroom.

"Ah, fuck!" he stretched, walking over to you, "Sorry about that, I thought I was gonna piss myself for a second there. What did you wanna tell me, love?"

"Nothing" you spat and sank your teeth into the chocolate.

"Sweetheart?" his tone softened, "Is everything alright?"

"Yes"

"Can you look at me?"

"No"

He knew what this was - didn't know what it was about, but knew you well enough to be able to tell you got upset over something trivial. Whenever it was something serious, so were you, starting a conversation with him and being mature and reasonable about it. However, the less serious the matter was, the more dramatic you got. So he knew there was space to tease you. "Puppy, come on, look at me, my angel" Eddie parted your legs and kneeled between them on the floor. He grabbed your hips in his hands and leaned down to get himself in your field of view. "Sweetheart?"

"You don't love me anymore" you huffed and raised your chin. You faced the kitchen, still frowning, and refused to look at him.

"Why would you say that, baby?" Eddie pushed himself up to sit beside you. When you still refused to engage, he grabbed your chin and forced you to look at him. "Tell me what made you upset, you know I make everything better."

"You slammed the door in my face" you exaggerated, knowing damn well he didn't even fully close the door. He always did though, and you were fully aware the only reason he didn't properly shut it was because you had been still standing there. But you were upset, and that was good enough of a reason to push his buttons.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to" he played along, "Forgive me, sweetheart, I'll make it up to you. But right now, please tell me what you wanted to say earlier"

"I don't want to anymore"

"Please? If you tell me, I promise I'll do absolutely anything you want"

You raised an eyebrow. "Anything?"

"Anything!" Eddie energetically shook his head. "I promise"

"Will you let me hold your dick while you pee?"

For a second, all he was able to do was blink. "Hold my what?" he did a double take.

"Your dick, Eddie. Please" you pouted, completely unbothered by the absolute shock on his face.

It took him a second to gather himself, "And then you'll tell me?"

"This is it. This is what I wanted to ask you but you ran and then locked yourself in the bathroom"

Realization hit him like a rock and as soon as the thought settled and the information got processed, he visibly relaxed. He swung one arm around your shoulders and leaned for a kiss. "I'm sorry, baby" he spoke against your lips, "Of course you can do that. I promise, I'll let you know next time I have to go"

"Really? You don't think it's weird?"

"No, it's definitely weird" he shook his head, "But when has that ever stopped us before?"

"Ok, thank you" you giggled, suddenly nervous enough to make you hide your face into his shoulder, but not nervous enough to remain there for long, as another idea popped up in your head.

Curiously, Eddie watched you stand and hurry to the kitchen, only to burst into laughter when you returned to him with a bottle of beer in your hand. "To speed up the process" you said.

"How long until you're done with that?" Eddie popped up in the reflection of your mirror, peeking over your shoulder at the makeup you just put on.

"I think I'm done?" you frowned and turned to face him, "Why?"

"We didn't take into consideration the fact that I drank today at lunch. I can't drive us to the movies, so we'd better get going if we want to make it there on time"

"Ok, right. Yeah, I'm done here anyway, let's go" You didn't pay too much attention, just walked past him and into the hallway, making a beeline for your shoes. "What?" you questioned when Eddie grabbed your boot from your hand and then dragged you back deeper into the trailer.

"Promised you'd help me piss"

"Oh!" you exclaimed, "Yes, yes, yes! Please, let me, let me!"

"Of course, princess," Eddie laughed, guiding you into the bathroom. He undid the belt himself and hooked his thumbs around the waistband of his jeans and then pulled them down his thighs, along with his underwear.

You looked at his cock and then up at him, "Do I just grab and aim?"

"Basically" Eddie chuckled and then wrapped an arm around your shoulders when he saw you hesitate. "Don't be nervous, you literally touched my dick thousands of times before"

"Yeah, but what if I miss?"

"I don't think you will, but if you do, I'll clean it up, don't worry"

"Ok…" you mumbled but still hesitated.

"Y/n, I don't wanna pressure you or anything. I don't know what's wrong with me right now, but there's a sliiiiiight possibility that I'm gonna get real hard, real soon if you keep staring at my dick with that look on your face, so-"

"Oh, no, yeah!! Sorry!" you giggled and went straight for it. As gently as you could, probably the most carefully you had ever been with his dick, you grabbed it into your hand, angled it however your brain figured appropriate and then looked at Eddie, "Is this ok?"

"Perfect, fuck. Ok" he hissed and then let himself go.

You didn't know what exactly you were expecting, but excitement took over your body when you saw the stream coming out of his tip, a huge dumb smile on your face as you refused to look away.

Nervous all of a sudden, Eddie raised your hand a little so the stream would hit the toilet bowl and not the water - the sound was making his cheeks burn, why was he like this? Why was he hot all of a sudden?

"Can I spell my name?"

"Technically yeah-" Eddie laughed in disbelief, "But next time? I'm almost done right now"

"Can you do it?"

"Sure"

"Can I watch?"

"You're insane" he shook his head, amused - and in awe, kissing your temple as the last droplets of piss left his tip. "But of course you can"

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie x reader #p1ss k1nk #????#i think???#is this even considered p1ss k1nk?? dunno #eddie munson

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jq37 · 20 days

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So, that lady FH episode was amazing and all, but...

Hoo boy, I already see the discourse around the Ratgrinders' fates forming and it is going to be painful. Be careful around the fandom space.

(I mean, resurrection is still on the table for them, but that's based on if the players feel like it and right now, we're looking at 50/50 odds at bests)

Yeah, don't worry about me. This isn't my first rodeo and also I post a lot about D20 and respond to asks I get but I don't actually personally engage with any of The Discourse (tm).

And I'm not really surprised at the reaction. I know people have been opinionated all season in two main camps (that have a lot of overlap): people dissatisfied with the narrative direction and people deeply sympathetic to the Rat Grinders to the point of being mad at the Bad Kids.

The first camp I mostly understand. I get wishing the cast would explore a certain storyline more. For example, I've been on the Aelwyn redemption arc train since literally the first episode of Fantasy High so I was a little disappointed that when that finally came to a head in Freshman Year, it was a big fight and then very little aftermath/unpacking because Aelwyn was sent to jail right after. And Sophomore Year hadn't been announced so I had no idea that she was gonna get another shot. But I wasn't upset or anything. Adaine at that point still hated her sister. She had no reason to want to reach out. And at the end of the day this is other people playing a game. Brennan presented them all the possible plot threads and they were most interested in self discovery, hanging out with each other, doing Shenanigans, and playing Tomb Raider re: Ankarna. Those are all options they were presented and it's not like they were doing crazy off-roading. It's well within the parameters of what D&D is. If you're gonna watch a show like this (or honestly any show), you have to accept that what's most interesting to you isn't always going to be the most interesting thing to the people in the driver's seat.

So yeah, I feel like this side of things I get (even though I'm fine with how things turned out).

The other camp--people being legit mad at the Bad Kids (and in some cases the actual cast) for treating the Rat Grinders like antagonists instead of victims that they were responsible for empathizing with and redeeming--I find kind of wild.

Like…you're mad at the kids who go to Child Murder School for killing kids who want to end the world and kill them specifically? Literally the first day of school the principal of the school says that adventurers are violent wanderers who engage in shenanigans and enact violence. This is the exact assignment they were given and that's what they're doing.

I think it's wild to at the same time believe that the Rat Grinders (who have killed people) are not responsible for their actions and deserve to be talked down while in the process of causing an apocalypse because they're just kids who were manipulated while at the same time calling the Bad Kids evil lunatics for trying to stop them by killing them (in a world where Revivify and Resurrection exist) even though they are ALSO kids who are doing what they've learned at Child Murder School. The Bad Kids have to be mature enough to thoroughly investigate the situation and have nuance about it but the Rat Grinders don't have any responsibility to not join a shady evil murder plan*? And do the Bad Kids really hate the Rat Grinders to the point where they're doing some overkill in this fight? Absolutely. But it's not like they're killing them because they hate them. They're killing them because they're trying to end the world--and they also happen to hate them. Are we forgetting that Kipperlilly killed Buddy--her own teammate--with a gleeful smile on her face? That was so out of pocket.

They're adventurers! Not guidance counselors! If Jawbone was like, "We need to kill these kids," yeah that would be weird but why would the Bad Kids extend an olive branch to the kids who (1) famously hate them, (2) killed at least one maybe 2 of their own party members, (3) endangered the entire student body population an hour ago, (4) are currently trying to end the world. Hell, Adaine was ready to be mean to her own sister in elf jail literally up until the point Brennan described how rough she looked from the torture and that's when she changed her mind. The Power of Love and Empathy is on the menu but it's a special item you only can get if you know the chef. Everyone else is getting a serving of These Hands. Just because you can find a vegan solution to a problem it doesn't mean you're obligated to.

This all comes down to, "Maybe teenagers shouldn't have godlike powers and the ability to play judge, jury, and executioner" but that's literally the premise of the entire show so you can't get around it without rejecting the show's entire premise. If they were like, "Hmm the systems that underpin our world are questionable and we should change the power structures" instead of, "Let's kill some bad guys!" then that's a totally different thing we're doing here!

And, idk man, this show has always had a Who Framed Roger Rabbit style morality where the normal rules of ethics stop applying when it's funny. They beat the crud out of Ragh and then lied to him that he shit his pants just for the bit. A pirate was rude/kinda racist to Riz so they scared him into killing himself. Riz ate the remains of the sentient (albiet evil) dragon he killed. That's all unhinged behavior but none of that is meant to be serious. Getting upset about Fig sending Ruben to hell to me feels like getting mad that Jerry hit Tom with a cartoonishly large mallet.

None of this is new so I have to assume that people are having a big reaction because they relate to the Rat Grinders or just really like them so it feels bad that the Bad Kids are treating them like fodder rather than beloved NPCs.

But again, this is a world where you can bring people back from the dead and the Rat Grinders have showed intent that is grievously neglectful at best and insanely murderous at worst so I can't muster a lot of sympathy for the fact that the Bad Kids are just taking them down without remorse. I don't think you have to try to empathize with the people who are trying to harm you if you don't want to especially while they are in the process of harming you.

(*And we still don't know how voluntarily they joined this plan. We don't know if they were killed and basically forced into resurrecting with rage or if they just leapt at the chance to join a plan that would let them get one over on their rivals. It literally could be either. We've had kid villains on this show strong armed into being party to evil plans by threat of harm (Aelwyn) as well was kid villains who just had their own selfish motivations and weren't tricked at all (Penelope and Biz). We actually don't have any clear answer on how culpable they are. We don't know if they all have rage crystals (except for Buddy). And we don't know how much having a Rage Crystal effects your actions. The best indicator we got is in this latest ep when Brennan said that there was a mechanic where Porter was going to call anyone with a rage crystal to fight for him but that says to me that he's only directly puppeting them when he uses that action and otherwise they have free will and are just angrier. The Bad Kids don't have a reason to believe definitively that the Rat Grinders are just unwilling puppets even if that is the case so of course they're treating them like enemies. Anyway, this is a whole lot of "I don't knows" but that's only because I've seen a lot of people talking like the Rat Grinders literally aren't in control of their actions but that's not info that we have. It could be true but we don't actually know that so it's not a good argument.)

#asks #dimension 20 #fantasy high #spoilers #dimension 20 spoilers #fantasy high spoilers #brwolf1995 #i've seen ppl say that the bad kids were mean the the RG's for no reason and it's like.#...the reason is that this is a show based on high school pop culture tropes #and they immediately and correctly clocked that KP is tracy flick #like come on man #and there's no reason to believe they can't be rezzed once this is taken care of #idk why ppl are acting like they're dead-dead #ankarna could just raise them like cass raised K at the end of SY if brennan wants #also lmao emily was brutal to ruben but I think that was mostly just irl person emily being like I put all this effort into you #and I never learned anything useful???? then perish #it's not that deep #one of my friends was like 'babe this isn't steven universe'#and I think about that a lot

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night-raven-tattler · 3 months

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Silence = neutrality/complicity, and I don't want to be silent.

Recently some people have been calling out a certain creator from the twst x reader side of the fandom that has been spreading zionist posts, dangerous sentiments and a heavy load of misinformation. The creator is @/marilynfuse and I am only sharing their blog name for everyone to block and report all of their platforms. Do NOT engage with this person, and do NOT harass this person. It's clear they don't listen to whatever you say and they thrive off of your attention. Do not give them that satisfaction, just report and move on. Their blog is still active despite not showing up when looked up.

I am a writer, but before that I am a person who does not endorse any kind of hatred or neutrality in the face of injustice. With that being said, I want no type of queerphobe, racist, islamophobe, antisemite, zionist, supporter of apartheid, denier or shamer interacting with my blog.

To be perfectly clear: Palestine, Congo, Sudan, Yemen, Syria, Haiti deserve to be free.

My goal is to invite everyone on any side to do their own research and see with their own eyes who they need to support, without thinking about the misinformation that has been going around for so long. Try to see beyond the propaganda and wake up to the reality we're facing.

I am gonna do what I think is best and share some sources I've found useful for Palestine (source 1, source 2, source 3), Congo (source 1, source 2), Sudan (source 1, source 2), Yemen (source 1, source 2), Syria (source 1, source 2) and Haiti (source 1). I'm trying to be as objective as I can be, but keep in mind being objective =/= being neutral. Being neutral leaves enough space for people to perpetuate misinformation, which is something I'm not going to do.

Educate yourselves. Talk about the people in need. Don't stay silent until the genocide and the wars stop and stay loud enough that people can still hear you even after you're pushed off the stage. If you want to educate other people, share resources and correct them, and don't engage with people who don't see reason. Block, report, use that energy and anger on sharing more resources to the people who are open to change.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twst x reader

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ambassadorarlert · 7 months

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toxic!armin head canons

author’s note: this fr has been a long time coming. it took a while to gather my thoughts lmao. he can’t be sweet all the time, right??😭

warning: modern au. toxic characteristics — obsession, jealousy, possessiveness. gaslighting.

18+ ONLY MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

we're not gonna look away from armin's whole underlying character trait of being a known manipulator. he is going to gaslight you.

armin starts his mind games as a last resort. when he's desperate to have his way. when he's being back into a corner, and you're holding your ground in an argument or disagreement. when you're winning and he's losing. he'll play into his unfortunate-baby face-sweet-boy persona and say, "i'm only telling you/doing this because i love you!" armin slaps, "I don't know what you want me to do." at the end of most arguments because he knows it will make you quit arguing out of pure frustration.

we can all agree armin goes through your phone

he immediately clicks on iMessage to see who you’ve been texting. snoops through everything. pictures, contacts, notes. all of it. armin goes all up in your private dm’s, discord, looks through your snapchats. who you’ve been sending tiktoks to. he’s so extra, he even scrolls on your social media timelines. your dash. your fyp. just to see what you’re always looking and giggling at bc who is making you laugh if it’s not him ? arminknows he won’t find anything and that you would never do anything behind his back. but he looks anyway and holds his breath just in case. and, if he does find something he doesn’t like, he will confront you about it and not even address the bigger question

major attachment issues. in bold, italics and regular size font.

the root cause being his parents died when he was really young and was only raised by his grandpa who worked all the time. /: armin definitely has mommy issues. he's very anxious to pleasure you and do everything you want him to bc a.) he's hopelessly devoted to you b.) for some reason he think it'll make you love him more. armin will get really attached to you after the first date, and everything in your relationship moves quickly. he says i love you first. 3 months into the relationship you’re moving in together. engaged after 1 year, married 6 months later. he’s sensitive and in tune with everything you’re doing and feeling and saying. the slightest change in your voice, oh you must be mad at him. when you're literally just tired and have 0 energy, he must be annoying you. armin needs regular reassurance and validation. he will straight up ask “do you still love me?” at least once a day.

armin gets jealous so. so easily.

armin thinks he's not good enough for you and that you deserve someone who can do the things he can't, while simultaneously not being able to bear the thought of you being with another man. he views other guys as a threat and is off-putting on purpose. he goes through your followers and interactions daily and reports guys who leave compliments and thirsts. he gives guys dirty looks when he see's them obviously looking at you. will ask trap questions like "would you still be with me if you could start your life over?" armin is well liked among your girlfriends but makes no effort with your guy friends, and has succeeded in distancing you from a few of them. he disguises ultimatums as open communication. armin's jealousy is a delicate spectrum.

he's very possessive of you.

you're his everything and he wants everyone to know that. you're so gorgeous, he's not gonna hide you away. armin recognizes that you're your own person, and you can show off however you'd like. as long as he's somewhere in the background. he encourages that you tag him in all your posts. he fights for his life trying to convince you to let him come with you while you go out with your friends and he wins most of the time. but when he has to stay home, he stays up and waits for you, he double/triple texts and asks when you'll be home even though you made a point to give him a timeframe. and don't even be 5 minutes late because armin already has seventy-five questions lined up. if he's feeling extra silly, he'll start a fight over text. 🤪

2023. do not copy or repost any work by arlertwitch on any other platform. violators will be prosecuted. 🪼 — @artsyblkblocked / @sleazymac-n-cheesy / @arlerts-angel / @chiinni / @aegonslawyer / @stoned-eren /

#its not even his fault fr.#he’s just protective that’s all.#he’s been through a lot and he can’t always help it ok #my writing #armin arlert #armin imagine #armin headcanons #toxic!armin #armin drabble #armin one shot #armin x reader #armin x y/n #armin x you #armin x black reader #armin x fem reader #armin x black y/n

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sugar-omi · 3 months

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How do you think everyone would react if cove and mc got pregnant at 18? Like the reason for them being engaged so young is because they are expecting

tags : Angst, headcanons, fem/afab reader, pregnancy

[part 2: cove finding out you're pregnant]

CLIFF

cliff would be.. he'd have the same feelings he had when kyra got pregnant with cove

he'd be scared, but happy because it is an exciting thing that a lot of people wish to hear one day!

but as cove's dad, he'd first be disappointed just because he never would've wished such a struggle on anyone at such a young age, especially his own son.

doesn't bother getting angry, because what would that do? it won't make you un-pregnant and it'd just make cove (and you) mad at him or upset, since of course you already know it's not an ideal situation.

when he realizes that you got engaged because of the pregnancy though, he tries to have a talk with cove.

he knows how much you two love each other, but he also knows from experience that this just doesn't work.

i think that'd end up in an argument, because even though cove and cliff have a better relationship than before, 5-10 years doesn't erase all the hurt from back then

cliff might end up saying something like "you don't want to end up like me and your mom" or even worse, "you shouldn't mess up your future."

all that would upset cove so much... because does he think that cove was a mistake? is that what he's saying? is he saying that you and cove would fail miserably? either way. they aren't thinking clearly, and cove already has a lotta feelings about how he was born, let alone conceived.

cove would probably end up saying something (a bit) hurtful like "i would never end up like you and mom." , "i would never marry MC if i didn't know it'd work. unlike some people, i'm not gonna make my kid listen to us argue and then try to play happy family." , or "trust me, my kid won't end up with a childhood like mine." / "trust me, my marriage won't end up like yours."

is it very ooc? probably. but everyone has the ability to say something hurtful, and when you experience something traumatic like your parents fighting, or knowing the circumstances of your birth, you have a lot of thoughts and feelings...

he does end up apologizing, but cliff probably ends up apologizing too since, again, they both probably said things they didn't mean

after that, things get a bit better. there's probably a lot of emotional conversations after that, just to get everything off their chests. hell we might even need family therapy, just to smooth things over before your baby gets here...

KYRA

now kyra... mmm i think this is where her awkwardness comes in. remember how she says she felt more like a cool aunt than his mom?

i think this is where kyra gets close to you, tries to offer you support and helps you through all the changes of pregnancy

she's mostly afraid for both of you. doesn't want you to try and slap a bandaid on this with marriage, kinda like how her and cliff did...

although i do think she was first angry when the news dropped. she really thought that you and cove, cove especially, would be more careful considering everything...

but the distance between her and you guys makes her sit on it for awhile, she does calm down and realize that you're just in the same position she was in, and are likely scared but doing your best...

calls both of you separately, just some a little one-on-one time and a heart-to-heart.

asks if you're really sure if you wanna get married, of course she expects you two to be sure about it, you two haven't gotten tired of each other yet and you're about to be intertwined in every way possible

reminds you that marriage is all about communication. and when you're raising a kid especially, and patience! also knows how much you love each other, and tells you to make time for yourselves and your relationship.

PAM & NOELANI

i instantly knew they'd be mad.

remember how pam worries in step 2 that cove is bad news? i think in her anger, ends up saying something like, "i knew something like this would happen." "i told you he was a bad influence."

yknow i've always wondered how cove would feel if he knew pam thought that about him, and i think in this situation, it'd hurt him a lot, and it'd open up a new can of insecurities and doubts.

starts worrying that he's holding you back, bringing you down... but we can get to that later

noelani tries to keep pam calm, does chastise her for saying that in front of you, especially if cove is there.

noelani is so disappointed, and you can see it so heavily... she'd sigh, mumble something- probably about how she "cant believe it...", covers her face with her hands..

she definitely asks, "how could you let this happen?" she really trusted you to make smart decisions, and even if this was a really big accident (like the rubber broke), she still didn't expect it n can't stop being disappointed

it takes them a few days for them to relax. this news had them totally spun and their emotions jumble up whenever its brought up or they think about it

they know being upset is gonna make it better, and if you're still living at home, they can see how sad you are, which helps them cave in. even if you don't whenever you call, they can hear how sad you are, or maybe you're texting less, whenever you visit your energy is lower than usual...

to start with, just to get out the way, they reassure you that you don't have to get married, that you shouldn't do something you guys don't want to, that you can be parents just fine without marriage

feels better when you insist you're not doing it just for the baby, i mean, not much. but you're insistent, and if you found out you're pregnant after getting engaged, they just have to trust you.

they also have to trust cove when he says he's gonna take care of you and the baby.

they knew cove is always very sincere and determined, even if he hesitates at times, but when he's set on something, he does it, so even though they're not happy about the situation, you're flying the nest now, and hitting milestones at a young age so all they can do is support you

and if noel does have a bit too much fun helping you set up the nursery, don't say a THING!!!

all the parents do make you sit down and explain your plan, who's going to work, who's watching the babe, if you're still going to school... all that. it's not that they aren't going to help you, but are you ready to take on the responsibility for your baby?

LIZ

liz is super worried for you, and cove too actually. you're her little sister/sibling, she still sees you and cove as kids in some way, and she still preens when you come to her for help...

the news just makes her head spin, but her first question is if you're okay, n if she's at home, she gives you a hug, lets you cry if you need it.

and this is also where her (protective) big sister energy comes in.. she hates seeing you sad when your moms are still heavily upset about the news

she tries to be there for you as much as possible, and especially if the first trimester is really rough on you, if cove isn't by your side then she is.

doesn't bother lecturing either of you. whats the point? all of your parents have already chewed your ears off, and it's not like you need any more stress or worry, or need to know that there's someone else disappointed in you/cove

i was going to say she'd give cove a stern talking too about being their for you, but she realizes she doesn't really need to do that.

tells him "i'm sure you'll be a good dad" maybe even, "well, i guess this was gonna happen one day anyway.." and that you're lucky to have him.

although after all those comforting n reassuring words, she does slap him on the back and remind him not to hurt or fail both of you, least he wants to feel her wrath. :) (she's a protective auntie already <33)

tries to keep the energy up by being excited for the baby, or by distracting you with some bonding time w your amazing older sister<3 makes jokes about being the cool aunt, when the times right ofc. she's really just trying to distract you, which works sometimes more than others

LEE

the phone is SILENT. which is really scary coming from lee...

she does speak eventually, asks if you're gonna keep it, what're you going to do, and depending on how you word the news, if cove is there to tell her, or if she's already heard some of the news from the rest of the family, she'll ask if cove knows

she tries not to ask too many questions, because she doesn't wanna upset you or seem insensitive

i think she's really lost on what to do. your and cove's parents have already done all the lecturing, and worrying over each detail...

so she just offers you comfort. or a distraction.

really, her reaction is based off yours, because if you're excited, then so is she! but if you're really sad and/or stressed, then she's subdued, tries to figure out how to help you even though she's not close by...

in fact, her and liz would plan a "girls trip" for you. just to distract you, help you feel better. it's nothing big, just 2 days in the city and you spend most your time going from shop to shop and different restaurants and cafes.

their energy keeps your spirits up, but if you're not up for all that, or even if you're tired of all the running around after the first day, they set up a nice "sleepover" in the hotel room and you only get one noise complaint!

both of them definitely reassure you that if you ever need a break, you can trust them, amazing and cool aunties lee and liz, with the babe (spoiler: you can, but just know you're interrupting many 'a tea parties when you come to pick up the babe)

DEREK, MIRANDA , TERRY, & BAXTER

their eyes fell out their head.

in fact, terry spat out his drink, like projectile spray... and derek is having an outta body experience probably, definitely dropped whatever he was holding.

baxter too, he's taking a sip of his coffee and when you tell him, he chokes a bit, squeezes the cup n now he has coffee on his pants... he's shocked as hell

i hope you didn't tell them in a public place btw, because terry definitely yelled out "you're pregnant?!" and now everyone in sunset bird/wherever you are who didn't know.. knows.

terry isn't sure whether to tell you congrats or not, is very very confused, says congrats but then starts rambling out loud about what if you're not excited, what if it's a bad thing... all that

and miranda too, offers a careful congrats and then says "um.. that is a good thing, right? i mean, it's okay if not!" and yeah you've broken them..

if you reassure them it is a good thing. well, as good as it can be really. then they relax

derek rambles off all his concerns, asks if you're really gonna do it (raise the baby)

and then starts rambling about how hard it was taking care of his brothers... is quick to remind you that it was fun! and he loves his brothers! and that you'll be great parents! and maybe your baby won't be as rambunctious as niko was as a toddler!

just offers you good wishes, and if you ever need help, call him! he's a expert at handling his brothers, so he might know a thing or two. unless it's genuine parenting advice then.. call his mom or dad, or yours, haha

now baxter... well assuming you told him you were engaged before he left, or even if you imagine all this happening while he's here, he doesn't have much to say

he's just a stranger after all, even if you befriend him quickly, he doesn't have much to say to you

he tries to contain his surprise, and he first asks if you're excited, then he offers his congratulations and says you two will be great parents and that the kid will be very loved by everyone.

after seeing you two around the neighborhood, and your getting to know your family and friends a bit, he doesn't worry about you guys too much.

even though he knows teen pregnancy isn't ideal, he does know your kid has a happy life ahead of them, and that you have a lot of support n love around you, and that you and cove will work hard to be good parents, so he doesn't worry for you too much

i'm tempted to say you or cove would find a unnamed flower or gift basket on your parents doorsteps, or maybe he even brings a very early wedding/baby gift since he knows he won't be around, but i'm not sure... although i think that's kinda a baxter thing to do

but now if he found out later in step 4, he'd be surprised by the news (and seeing that you have a kid already) but he'd just tell you he's happy it's all working out for you, and that your kid is very adorable and you have a lovely family

#olba #our life: beginnings & always #cove holden #cove holden x reader #angst

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swordsmans · 10 months

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prompted by a baffling conversation with one of my friends + overall trends with events like big bangs. apparently i am deeply underestimating the amount of, like, actual consumption crossover between fanartists and fanwriters. i've been operating under the assumption that the majority of fanartists don't read fanfic and that fanfic is a relatively niche thing mostly shared between fanwriters with a few outlier exceptions. like, that the "communities" or w/e are relatively separate??

this is possibly because i've been out of "fandom" for a few years (or bc im not on twitter/insta where the artists hang out), but i feel like most of my friends are other fanwriters and most of the people who actively engage with fanfic on tumblr/ao3 are also fanwriters (and vice-versa with fanartists gravitating to each other). however. my friend disagrees? neither of us are actually artists tho so i'm putting the question out to the crowd. (more thoughts) ->

side note: i didn't include an option for being BOTH a fanartist/fanwriter because 1) you're like rare and exotic birds to me 2) i'm trying to figure out who falls into which category based on what community you "identify" with the most. if you write the occasional fanfic but you mostly think about/create fanart, you're a fanartist; if you mostly write fanfic but every now and then will think about/make some art, you're a fanwriter. the group you're more likely to engage with. that kinda thing.

side note 2: you will see i have included an option for fanwriters who don't/rarely read fanfic. i know you exist because that is my category. i read fanfic but do so rarely these days. i'm selective because i dont have a lot of time on my hands. this is possibly another reason why i feel like engagement between fanwriters is so high, because if i'm going to engage with a fanfic i'm gonna put my whole ass into it since that's the kind of engagement that makes me happiest from a writer's perspective.

for reference, when i say "engagement" i'm talking about leaving kudos, comments on ao3, asks/comments on tumblr, tags on reblogs... that kinda thing.

with all of this in mind, this could literally just be because fanfic writers are more willing to engage with other writers bc of their own shared hobby and/or because fanfic writers know what kind of engagement theyd prefer on their own fics and act accordingly--and non-writer/artists are just more willing to engage in general because that's the primary way you participate in fan communities. on the flip side, fanartists might just straight up be a really quiet bunch... possibly because your thing (affectionate) is "visual" more than "verbal" (if that makes sense).

basically... this is exactly what i'd like to know LOL.

#this is mostly abt one piece because i DEFINITELY feel like there was WAY more crossover between artist/writers reading fanfic in homestuck #but that was also literally a decade ago & i feel like theres been a HUGE shift in how people see/are willing to engage w fanfic these days #THIS ISN'T SHADE OR ANYTHING I'M GENUINELY SO CURIOUS #i found out some people i assumed didnt read fanfic at all actually DO and i was BAFFLED #the librarian urge to do research create categories and make lists #spiders loopey is an outlier and should not be counted lfasjlhlhsdfsdhfkjs (kidding ily)#gyro.txt

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auteurdelabre · 6 months

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Something to Fight For (series) Part 16

I'm sorry I can't go to the rehearsal this weekend," Paul tells you Monday morning at the two of you prepare for work. "Wish I didn't have to go to this stupid work mixer."

"It's no problem," you assure him through bites of omelette. "Just enjoy and get to know the people you'll be working with."

Paul takes a deep swig of grapefruit juice, watching you over the glass. You're distant, your eyes unfocused.

"Then again I don't even know if I should be going to the fucking wedding," Paul says with a shake of his head. "You saw her face when I told her we were engaged."

Your unfocused look is gone, replaced with concern.

"Paul. That's not fair," you explain patiently. "She was just surprised. Everyone was."

Including you. The agreement was not to share the engagement with everyone until after the wedding. You'd wanted to tell Maria at most, in private.

But Paul had been so excited, he explained later that day when a trip to the ER confirmed that he had a bruised jaw. So overjoyed to share his love with the people you cared about most.

"She wasn't surprised," Paul replies glumly across the table from you. "She was pissed off."

"Why would she be pissed off, Paul?" You falter, your eyes avoiding his because you know exactly why Maria is upset. The same reason you've been staying at Paul's place since the party and Joel’s punch.

"Because she doesn't like me," Paul answers flatly. "Hasn't really liked me since we got back together."

"I think she's just gonna miss me living with her," you say quickly not wanting to get into things. "Emotions are just running high with the wedding coming up."

Paul's face shows that he doesn't believe you, but he lets it go. His handsome face is slipping into a smile, his hand coming to rest over yours. Your hand twitches under his heavy grip.

"Well hopefully she gets over it. She and Tommy are always welcome to come visit us in Leander."

///

Monday morning, after the most miserable Sunday in recent existence, Joel calls you. He knows you won't answer if you know it's him so he calls your work, his fingers tight around the landline as it rings.

"Austin Rescue."

Joel is shocked when you pick up your phone after the first ring. It's still early in the day. At the sound of your voice he feels his eyes shuttering.

"Hey."

There’s a soft inhale followed by the sound of you sucking your teeth. You're irritated he called you at work where you can't see who calls you.

"What do you want, Joel? I'm busy."

"Listen," Joel begins, his voice lodged in his sternum. "I need t- I wanna apologize for what happened on Saturday."

"I really don't wanna hear your excuses," you interrupt lowly. "If it weren't for Sarah I would have hung up the second I heard your voice."

Joel just stares into middle distance, his large eyes glittering.

"I made a promise to always be there for Sarah and I intend on keeping it," you explain in a tight voice. "So I'll talk to her on the phone anytime. Maybe you can bring her to a park and I can meet her there. Or if you're comfortable with it maybe I could take her to the arcade or somewhere she'd like."

It takes everything in Joel to stay focused, to swallow the thick knot in his throat, his eyes shut.

"So, you're just never gonna come to my place again?"

He wishes that didn't sound so needy, so devastated.

"Paul isn't comfortable with me in your house."

This changes something in Joel's disposition. His back goes straight and his eyes narrow. His grip on the phone tightens.

"What? Why?"

"He says you're violent," you reply evenly. "And after you punched him in the face for no reason at Sarah's party I'm inclined to agree."

Joel's blinking at that because it's as if you've punched him across the jaw. Then all at once the wounded look is gone from his eyes, replaced with a hard shell.

"You know why I punched Paul?" Joel rasps. "Because he was thanking me for letting you spend time with Sarah. He thanked me for it because he said that now you'd be more open to getting knocked up."

He hears nothing but silence on the other end of the phone.

"So are you?" Joel demands even though he knows it's not his place. "You gonna ride my thigh and come for me and then go marry Paul? Have his kids?"

More silence. Only the faraway sounds of someone typing and muted barking from outside of what he assumes is your office window.

"You tell Paul yet by the way?" Joel asks you, his voice the sharpened edge of a steel blade. "You tell him how wet you were for me in my kitchen?"

He hears the catch in your throat, the shameful way you swallow. He doesn't need to see you to know that you're blushing, your eyes on the ground.

"No."

"Right," Joel says with a scoff. He can hear the recrimination; almost feel your temper rising over the phone.

"Oh and I'm supposed to believe that you told Tess?"

"I told her we kissed before Sarah's party."

You're shocked by this, so shocked you must momentarily forget to be angry at Joel because your voice has lost its chilly edge.

"She... What did she say?"

"Doesn't matter," Joel replies, looking grimly down at his feet. "None of it fucking matters."

Before he can continue Sarah appears around the corner, holding Toad. She looks up at her father to see his mouth set in an angry line.

"Daddy what's wrong?"

"Nothing babygirl," Joel says, clearing his throat. "Just talking to a friend."

"Is that Sarah?" You ask over the line and Joel can actually hear you soften. "Can I talk to her?"

Joel looks to Sarah staring up at him and tells her it's you. She smiles widely and he helps her into the chair next to him before handing her the phone. She takes it, not used to people calling for her so this feels momentous.

"Hello?"

"Hi bug," you say warmly when you hear her little voice come through the line. Joel can hear you faintly from where he sits and hearing the sweet nickname makes him blink rapidly. "Any chance you wanna go for ice cream this week?"

Sarah's large hazel eyes are stuck on her dad, looking at him warily even as she speaks to you.

"Can daddy come?"

Joel's face drops a fraction at Sarah's request, bracing himself. He hears you stutter on the other line.

"I uh, thought maybe we could just do a girls day," you say, trying to sound jovial. “Just you and me.”

Sarah had smiled at the first sound of your voice on the phone and she is normally so excited, so eager to spend time with you. But right now she can't stop looking at her dad who tries to smile at her but only manages to crack a weak curl of his mouth.

"Go on, babygirl. You can say yes."

Large hazel eyes scan his face slowly before Sarah shakes her head.

"No, thank you."

You're both taken aback by the clarity in her young voice. You can hear her place the phone down on the kitchen table before Joel brings her into his arms, giving her a quizzical look.

"Since when don't you want ice cream?"

Sarah toys with one of the buttons on her father's shirt. She shrugs non committal.

"She wants to see you, Sarah, your favorite person."

Sarah shakes her head, unseen by you.

"You're my favorite person, daddy."

Joel feels his chest tighten at that and he gives her a watery smile, his large hand dwarfing her cheek as he cups it.

"And you're mine, babygirl."

He presses a kiss to her forehead. Sarah looks at the phone sitting there on the table for a moment and Joel's thinks she's going to say something else to you but she only looks back to him.

"Daddy I wanna go watch Beauty and the Beast."

A still shocked Joel lowers Sarah to the ground so she can scamper off to the DVD collection. Joel watches after her a moment before picking up the phone in confusion.

"I don't know what happened," Joel starts. "She uh-"

"It's okay," you say with a tremble in your voice that he can hear over the line. "It's fine. Just tell her that I love her."

The phone goes dead.

///

Things feel bad.

Sarah sits watching Chip dancing with Belle but Sarah isn't focused on that. Her mind is still back in the kitchen with Daddy.

She came into the kitchen moments ago to see her big strong father collapsed in a chair, his head in one hand, the other pressing the phone tightly to his ear.

Daddy's eyes are so sad today. He doesn't smile right when he looks at Sarah and hands her the phone. His voice sounds funny when he urges her to go for ice cream.

And even though Sarah wants to go with you for ice cream, she doesn't want her daddy here at home alone.

She hears her daddy talking to you in the other room, his voice a low murmur before he hangs up.

She hopes he won't call miss Tess for a playdate. Sarah is sick of Daniel and her. Sick of her too-tight hugs and teeth-baring smiles. Sick of Tess' whispers about how she can't wait to take Sarah to the mall and spend some one on one time together. (No thanks).

Sarah doesn't want to go with Tess anywhere. She just wants you here.

Sarah really doesn't like it when Tess asks about you. When were you last here? Do you and Daddy spend a lot of time together? Does daddy talk about you a lot?

Sarah never answers Tess. It feels like a trick. It feels weird that she asks that at all.

Sarah thinks of the photo under her pillow. The one she'd asked Auntie Maria to print out for her. The one she has been looking at and talking to each night since her birthday.

When will the three of you be together again? She's tired of waiting.

Sarah's attention is drawn back to the dancing cutlery on the screen and these thoughts fade, leaving her for now.

///

You leave work that day and you need to speak to someone. The gentle rejection of Sarah is playing on your mind. The information Joel shared with you about Paul.

It's all too much.

You need to talk to someone. Maria and Tommy are busy with wedding stuff. Your mom has her hands full and Alex is just a coworker. It's this which has you stumbling up the stairs of your neighbors house, ringing the doorbell with a desperate intensity.

Please be home. Please be-

Bill opens the door, his brows tight in the middle. He's dressed in a threadbare t-shirt with holes around the collar.

"What?'

"Can I talk to Frank?"

"He's at a gallery opening," Bill replies. You think he's going to tell you off for bothering him during his time of solitude but then he tilts his head to better peer into your face. "You been crying?"

No point in lying. "A little."

"Better come inside, then."

You watch Bill turn on his heel for the kitchen, pausing when you don't immediately follow. His face shows extreme irritation at you hanging back, unsure.

"You're letting bugs in. Come in and close the fucking door."

Bill and Frank's house always smells like how you'd imagine the inside of a small French bakery to smell. Cinnamon and coffee some days, peppermint or bread others. Today as you follow Bill inside towards the kitchen it smells of sweet confection, like icing sugar and vanilla.

You glance at the counter, your eyes drawn to the paper there. It's a sketch of a three tiered cake, forest themed. Your eyes widen at the detail.

"Whoa what is all this?"

"Your friend's wedding cake. Well, a sketch of an idea I had that Frank did up for me." Bill looks critically at this idea committed to paper before shrugging. "Makin' cupcakes for the rehearsal dinner. Working on the trial batch today."

"They'll be delicious," you confirm knowing it to be true without even seeing them. Everything Bill makes is delicious.

"Here. Test one." Bill points at the table and you take a seat, grateful for the delicious pale pink cupcake he slides to you.

"Strawberry," he tells you with a small quirk of his lips as you bring it to your mouth. "Frank's favorite."

It's heaven. Plain and simple this is heaven in a baked good. Flavors explode in your tongue a mix of sweet and tangy that combines to make your taste buds dance in delight.

"Holy shit."

Bill gives one of his trademark smiles, one so faint you barely see it under his beard. He's pleased. You take another bite, your eyes closing as the onslaught of divine taste overwhelms you. It's like you can actually feel love in every bite.

Bill takes a seat across from you, watching your closed eyes and the serene look on your face. He almost hates to interrupt it.

"So why the tears?" Bill says cutting down to the business at hand.

You can tell this is already painful for him and a part of you wonders if this is Frank's influence. You can almost imagine the slender man giving Bill detailed instructions on what to do if one of their neighbors comes over in a panic.

"Uh, I don't. . . "

You look back at your cupcake, thinking that if you just take another bite it will buy you time. Bill seems to sense this because his beefy fingers are on the delicate china, pulling it back to his side of the table.

When minutes tick by and you still don't explain he gives a soft exhale through his nose.

"Just say it."

"Say what?"

"You got feelings for that contractor. Joe."

You stare open-mouthed at Bill.

"Joel," you finally correct him. "And no. Why would you say that?"

Bill gives an impatient sigh, drumming his wide fingers on the table.

"Last time you were here. Seemed pretty obvious to me."

"Bill, I'm engaged to Paul. I'm moving in with Paul. My life is with Paul."

Bill heaves another heavy sigh, rubbing at his face as if he's having the most painful interaction of his life. Knowing Bill, this may just be true.

"Paul's a fucking dud."

You bark out a laugh at Bill's sharp appraisal. Then you immediately sober, guilt going through you.

"Bill-"

"I don't understand," Bill says and you can tell its earnest. "You care for each other. I could see that plain as day when you were here with him."

"He's with someone else. So am I."

Bill nods, his face unreadable. It’s the kind of face that holds no emotion, good or bad. The kind of face you feel you can speak to without judgment.

"Even if we both were single I just don't think I'm good for Joel," you say looking at your lap. Bill’s chair creaks as he tilts forward.

"You want him?"

"Of course I want him," you finally say, your voice trembling as you say it out loud. "But Tess makes so much more sense for him. She has a kid; she'll be a natural mother to Sarah. And I've hurt Joel. I've hurt him in ways that he doesn't deserve."

Bill is quiet at this, regarding your splotchy face. He doesn't know you as well as Frank might, he doesn't even know your last name, but there's something in you right now that reminds Bill so much of himself it shakes him.

It's why he doesn't roll his eyes or tell you to quit with the hysterics. It's why he folds his hands on the table and fixes you with a look a father would give a daughter and says your name real quiet until you finally look over at him.

"I used to own that hardwood shop on Lamar Blvd, years ago. Frank used to come in to get spirits for his oil painting. First time I met him I thought he was fucking annoying. Talked too much."

You give Bill a watery smile. Yes, that sounds right to you.

"But I figure this guy'll never come back and I won’t have to suffer the headache, plus he was buying lots" Bill continues, his voice laden with faux irritation. "So I put up with him. But then next month he's back. More supplies, more talking. And he does this for a year. A full fucking year of me grouching at him while he yammers on about everything under the sun until one afternoon I can't stand it and I just kiss him to shut him up."

Your eyes are wide, your heart pounding as you imagine this. You try to envision Bill and Frank a decade ago, younger, softer.

"Then of course I pretend it was nothing. I hid. Didn't want everyone knowing I was into guys," Bill explains. "Two years we danced around it. Two years of secret meetings in hotels and then stretches of silence. Two years of pushing and pulling and we couldn't stop. Each time we thought we should just walk away it was just seeing each other and. . ."

Bill raises his hands between you circling the air as he tries to explain this connection, this deep abiding love but he can't. Words aren't enough for it.

"I couldn't understand why he was always coming back. I thought Why is this guy still after me? Why would he want me? I'm a grumpy asshole who hates people. But Frank kept coming into the shop, kept breaking down those walls and then one day you know what changed?"

You shake your head.

"I thought Frank is a smart guy. Smarter 'n me in a lot of ways. So if this smart guy is telling me he wants me, why am I so arrogant to assume he's wrong or that I know better?" Bill twitches a brow as he looks at you. "Now I don't know Joel all that well, but I can tell he's a man who knows his own mind. So if you tell him how you feel he'll be honest back. But maybe you're worried about what you'll hear, good or bad."

“It’s not just that.”

You will the tears back. You swallow them. You blink them away when they try to sneak out the corners of your eyes.

"There's an ugliness in me, Bill," you finally say with a catch in your voice. "Something that makes me want what I shouldn't. A really ugly selfishness."

You think back to Joel in your arms, his mouth on yours. You think of how he looked above you, his eyes open and beautiful. And you remember that this was stolen time. Stolen from another woman, a better woman.

"Is it the same thing that made you bake cupcakes for his kid? Or spend hours of your time with her?"

You're silent at this appraisal.

"Is it the way you put yourself in shitty situations just so your friend can be happy?" Bill notices your look of surprise. "Yeah, Frank tells me a lot."

You've never had Bill talk to you this long. You can't stop staring at him.

"Or maybe it's the way that you probably love this man more than you want to admit and you'd still stay away from him because you think he'd be happier without you," Bill finishes. "Is that the selfishness you're talking about? Because if it is, I think you might be fucking insane."

When the sobs suddenly overtake you, Bill doesn't rush to hug you. It's not his way.

Instead he watches as your body curls, your head held in your hands. As you let out all the ugly you've been holding in, Bill's hand comes to rest on your shoulder patting softly.

"Don't make the same mistake I did," he urges you. "Tell him soon. Don't wait."

How can you explain to Bill that it isn't that easy? That he and Frank fit like pieces from a long lost puzzle.

With you and Joel sometimes it seems intrinsic so fucking fated you could write poems about it. Other days it's so hard you feel handcuffed to a boulder.

Isn't love supposed to be easy?

But then you look at Bill and Frank and their love that takes your breath away and you think on Bill's story. Maybe, just maybe love is something you have to fight for.

But you can't fight for Joel. You can't. You love him and because you love him you know you have to let him go. Joel, flower giving, sweet kissing, patient Joel deserves all the good things.

Paul is what someone like you deserves.

You stop yourself from hugging Bill as he walks you to the door minutes later mumbling about how he'll see you at the rehearsal dinner.

You walk home with puffy eyes and a heavy heart.

#fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #fanfiction #joel miller smut #smut #dad joel miller #joel miller #pedro pascal #STFF #STFF series #Something to Fight For #Something to fight for series #story #Bill and Frank

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