#in universe it just made it look like Tommy was getting people out of the rain for free nrngn

[wander-over-the-words]

Things that I discovered about Free Ride mode that I actually love:

You can change the weather and the time of day!!

YOU CAN BE A TAXI DRIVER AGAIN

[agoodfictitle-shadowban]

Sweet Summer | Pt. 1

Wanda Maximoff x f!Reader

Summary: The Xavier Institude is being renovated for the summer. With nowhere else to go, your best friends Billy and Tommy offer you to stay with them and their mom. But what happens when feelings start to spark between the two of you?

Word Count: 5.5k

Warnings: Trauma, Eventual Smut (in 2nd part), Age Gap (20yo reader, 37yo Wanda)

Tags: mutant!Reader (shadow manipulation), different timeline, everyone is alive (except Pietro, sorry Pietro), no Sokovia Accords, no Thanos, Wanda was young when she joined the Avengers, retired Natasha, top!Reader, bottom!Wanda, but they switch a bit, Vision is a bit of an asshole, divorced!Wanda, mainly cutesy, bit of angst tho

"Are you sure it's okay?" You asked both of your friends as you stood in the doorway of their bedroom. Summer was here, and with it, Professor X decided to do some renovations to the Institute.

For most of the mutants, it changed nothing since they would go home for the summer, but for you, it meant two months in the streets - well not really since Xavier offered all students who couldn't go home to stay at a hotel with the resident teachers, an uncomfortable solution in your opinion that left you with a bad taste in your mouth, like you needed the charity (which you did) before going off to University. Lucky for you, your two best friends had offered you to stay with them. It took a bit of convincing, a lot of reassuring that it wouldn't bother their mother, but in the end Billy and Tommy managed to have you agree to come with them for the holidays.

"We're absolutely certain, stop worrying that much," Tommy said, speeding around to finish preparing his suitcase at the last minute. He disappeared from the room and Billy softly smiled at you.

"He's right. And mom already agreed. She always wants to meet our friends, so I'm sure she'd be disappointed if you changed your mind."

You wanted to ask him if he was telling you all that just to make you feel better, but you fought it off. It was a nasty habit you had to always feel like you were a burden and a bother. The twins always found a way to reassure you, so you knew better than to question them some more. You gave Billy a nod, and watched as Tommy disappeared from the room and came back a second later with more things to stuff in his suitcase. He threw everything in and closed it after fighting it for a few minutes.

"I'm ready!" He declared proudly in a hero pose. You rolled your eyes and looked at the time on your phone.

"Only ten minutes late, a new record," you teased him. The speedster was somehow always late with everything, which in turn made you and Billy late. It would drive the teachers crazy, since the three of you were a package deal. You had been since you were young mutants just joining the Institute, despite being older than them by two years - you were still in the same level classes as them. This proximity never translated during holidays when they were away, beyond staying in contact with your phones. It took you being forced out to finally agree to go to their place.

"We should go now," the more responsible Billy declared as he started to drag his suitcase after him with his powers. "Mom has been waiting for us."

Anxiousness filled you for a second, but you took a deep breath and you followed the twins. You adjusted your bag on your shoulder as you walked down the stairs, saying goodbye to the other people who were getting ready to leave. There were a few fist bumps and brief hugs as your classmates and teachers warmly returned the goodbyes. It was the last time you were going to see some of them as you were leaving for university at the end of the summer holidays. This left you feeling sad and nostalgic, but also happy that you were progressing in life despite everything that happened to you. Those feelings washed over you as you walked through the doors of the Institute into the sun. A bunch of parents were waiting there to take their kids home. You never got to join them until now, but you watched from afar plenty of time, never daring to step closer and meet your friends' parents.

Today, Ms. Maximoff was alone. A few years ago she divorced her husband and father of her children. It had been hard on Billy and Tommy, but eventually, and with some help from therapy, they got over it. They still saw him regularly, and you were going to meet him when they were going to spend a month at his place, taking you with them. Because there was no way you would spend a month alone with their mother.

The twins spotted her first and waved at her from afar. You turned your head to have a good look at her and almost stopped on the spot when you did. She was gorgeous. Her wavy light brown hair, piercing green eyes, small nose, and lips were working all together to give her this unique charming look. But most of all, her smile was radiant. As you kept looking at her, you missed a step in the stairs and almost fell. Luckily, Tommy got you and straightened you up. You could feel all eyes on you for a brief instant, making you blush profusely but briefly as you kept walking, looking where you were going this time. Only when the twins stopped did you stop too and looked up. And there she was, right in front of you, in a white with sunflowers sundress and an open red hoodie. You couldn't help but gawk again while Billy gave her a hug. Tommy noticed and smiled proudly.

"Never seen an Avenger up close before?" He asked, so sure that it was the reason why, and you weren't about to contradict him.

"No, never." Especially not one so utterly beautiful. You shook your head and got a hold of yourself while Ms. Maximoff was hugging Tommy and finally stepped closer to her to extend your hand. "I'm glad to finally meet you Ms. Maximoff."

You barely had time to get those words out before she took your hand and pulled you in a strong hug. You were immediately overwhelmed by her scent and her warmth. You were paralyzed.

"Thank you for looking over Tommy and Billy. And please, call me Wanda."

"Oh, huh, sure, I can do that," you answered before she let you go, her hands still on your shoulders.

For a moment, your eyes met and you swallowed hard, feeling your cheeks burn up before she let go for good. It was like there was a current going through the air and into your body, something you both shared. Your heart skipped a beat. You took a deep breath.

"Let's get going, put your packs in the trunk of the car."

And just like that, it was as if nothing had happened. To be fair, you probably just imagined the connection going on between you and Wanda, so you tried to ignore the way you felt and simply put your bag in the trunk of the car. It gave you enough time to recover before you slid in the back of the car with Billy, after the twins fought for the place at the front.

There was a lively conversation between the twins and their mom, and music, and as you watched the scenery go by the window you found yourself smiling. That was until you arrived in front of a colonial revival style house in the suburbs. It was painted white, with two stories, and a large balcony on the right. A tree in the front yard hid most of the left side of the house, and the lawn was well kept. You followed everyone inside and a smile graced your lips when you saw how homey the place was. It would have completely relaxed you if not for that gnarly feeling of intruding on the family. It was like vines growing alongside your heart, preparing to crush it at any sign that this was true. That thought was interrupted when Wanda addressed you.

"Y/n? Come, I'll show you to your room." She spoke softly and grabbed you by the wrist to direct you towards the stairs. Her hand was soft and warm, and the simple contact elicited a tingling sensation up your arm. "This is Tommy's room, and here is Billy's. This is the bathroom. Here is my room, and here is yours."

She opened the door to the guest bedroom. It was simple, impersonal, with a king sized bed, a dresser, and a full length mirror. Close to the bed there was a door leading to the big balcony, and you guessed by the way things were in the house that Wanda had that same access. She entered the room and went to the door to the balcony to open it.

"I aired the room a few times in preparation of you coming but it still feels a bit stuffy," she pointed out as she looked outside. You shook your head and put down your bag on the bed, offering your host a smile.

"It's no worries, that room is great!"

"I'm glad you think so." She turned around and looked at you, examining your features for an instant. You tried not to squirm under her gaze, before her next words shocked you to your core. "Are you going out with Tommy?"

Your eyes went big like saucers, you opened your mouth once or twice before finally your shock settled and a laugh came out of you. It quickly grew bigger and bigger until you had tears in your eyes. Wanda frowned in confusion until you calmed down enough to answer her.

"No, we're not… I'm not interested in him like that. Actually I'm not interested in men like that," you confessed. You knew Billy was gay and came out years ago to his parents, so Wanda shouldn't have any trouble with this. There was still some brief silence before she smiled at you.

"Good." Her smile got more mysterious and you tilted your head, unsure of what it meant. You took it as a good sign, that she simply was glad that she didn't have to worry about Tommy dating you. "Okay, I'm going to let you organize your stuff. I have some work this afternoon, so have fun with the boys."

"Thank you. And thank you again for letting me stay."

"They talk so much about you, it's my pleasure to finally get to meet you."

You nodded, and Wanda left the room. You followed her movements with your eyes, looking her up and down before catching yourself.

"She's your best friends' mom, come on," you muttered to yourself before starting to take care of your bag.

*

It had been a week since you arrived at the Maximoff's household, and you had been having fun so far. You enjoyed the pool the most, having fun with Tommy and Billy while Wanda was away most of the time on Avenger business. There had been a few touches between the both of you, a hand on your shoulder while she was passing you, lingering close to you when bringing food on the table. You were sure that you were reading too much into it, but at the same time your heart would skip a beat every time it happened, your skin lighting on fire just by her simple presence. You tried your best to ignore it, of course, and so far it was working. With any chance it was going to pass soon enough and you wouldn't make a fool of yourself in the process.

"Hey, Y/n. I just received a message from a childhood friend, he's having a party, you wanna go?"

"Thanks for asking Tommy," Billy said with a roll of his eyes, sitting in an inflatable donut in the pool.

"I already know you'll go, dummy. So, Y/n?"

You laughed at the twins' antiques and approached the edge of the pool. A party would be nice, and it would take you out of the house. Maybe even make you think of something else than Wanda and her mesmerizing green eyes. There were no reasons for you not to go.

"Yeah, that sounds great."

"Great! It's in a week so we should go buy some clothes for it!" Tommy exclaimed before he answered the text from his friend.

"I already have clothes," You groaned before pulling yourself out of the water. It's not that you didn't like getting new clothes, if you were honest, it was that you didn't have the money for it. Something that you had no intention to reveal to your friends.

"Come on, it'll be fun!"

You rolled your eyes, but you knew there was no way out of this. You put your hands up in surrender.

"Alright, alright, we can go all together, you big baby," you smirked as Tommy frowned and put down his phone. He sped at you and pushed you in the water in retaliation, before he jumped in turn to start attacking you. You fought back, ending up climbing on his back like a spider, when Wanda approached the pool with a raised eyebrow. She was wearing a smart casual business outfit. You didn't notice her immediately, not before Billy got to explain what was happening.

"Why don't I come with you? I have an outing soon," Wanda offered as she looked at you and Tommy with an amused grin, now that you noticed her, stopping your playfight. Her eyes were boring into you, waiting for you to answer the question more than anyone else.

"Sure. Yeah, that would be nice." You scratched the back of your neck, a smile on your face as you looked back at her.

The moment was interrupted when Billy's inflatable bumped into you. You all discussed the details and decided to go tomorrow morning, when there would be less people than usual. It meant waking up early, but it wouldn't be a problem for you; you usually slept very little.

*

When morning came, you prepared yourself and went downstairs to surprise everyone with breakfast. You started with eggs and bacon, then pancakes. You were preparing coffee when footsteps came from the stairs.

"It smells delicious," Wanda said before you could even see her. When she finally turned the corner to the kitchen, you smiled at her. She was wearing her hair up in a loose bun, a large gray sweater, and some black sweatpants. Even just in her relaxed state she was gorgeous, and you almost burned a pancake looking at her.

"Thank you. Why don't you sit down and I'll bring you your breakfast." She nodded and went to sit down at the table in the sunroom under the balcony, crossing her arms on it. You prepared a plate and brought it to her.

"What's the occasion?" She asked when you were putting down the plate.

"No occasion, I just want to pull my weight around here." You cleaned the traces of fingers on the plate with a dishcloth while turning the plate properly. "I hope you enjoy it."

"I feel like I'm at one of Tony's fancy brunch."

"Never been to one of those, but it sure sounds like the food would be good."

"It was." For a fraction of a second, her smile turned sad. "It was one of the first things I experienced after coming to the States. I couldn't enjoy the food properly, but having everyone with me… it was special. Especially after…" she cut herself, her eyes lost somewhere away. She came back quickly and turned to you.

"Thank you so much." She put her hand on yours briefly as she thanked you, and your heart skipped a beat. You grinned proudly.

"Of course."

With that you went back to the kitchen, feeling rejuvenated by the simple contact and closer to Wanda after the short conversation, despite being worried about what she decided to hide. You knew you could probably just do some research on her history and come to your own conclusions based on context, but it felt intrusive, so you decided against it. Once you were back behind the stove, Billy then Tommy appeared one after the other, in different states of awakening. With them finally present, you also sat down to enjoy breakfast, then everyone left to go get ready for the day. 

You were quick to arrive at the clothing store and grab whatever caught your fancy. You knew you weren't going to buy anything but it didn't mean you couldn't enjoy trying on nice clothes. There was a leather jacket that caught your attention and you put it on your arm to try it later as you kept going around the store. You looked at some things with Wanda while the boys were in the other section of the store.

"What do you think of this dress?" Wanda asked you as she held a nice black and white garment with a bit of a vintage style in front of herself. You tried to imagine her in it, and if you were honest to yourself you thought she'd probably even look good in a potato bag.

"I think it'd look great!" The woman smiled at you and added it to the small pile of clothes she had collected so far. Now you knew where Tommy's sense of style came from at least.

With that in mind, you joined back with the boys to try on what you had found in the store. Like you, Billy only had a few items, so you went first to try the clothes, putting on a mini show. You really liked the leather jacket, the twins and Wanda complimenting you on it, and you thought for a second that maybe you should buy it. But upon seeing the price again you grimaced and decided to put it with the rest of the clothes you couldn't buy anyway.

After you, Wanda and Tommy started their own mini show of trying their clothes. It was the occasion for you to admire the woman some more without feeling like a creep. You were right in your earlier assessment; Wanda could wear anything and look gorgeous. As both Tommy and Wanda went back into the fitting room, Billy decided to wander back into the store, leaving you alone on the bench where you waited for the rest of the show.

"Billy? Can you come help me with the zipper of my dress?" Wanda called, and you looked around. With your friend gone, you hesitantly approached the fitting room curtain.

"He went back into the store," you simply said to her. A few floating seconds passed.

"Can you help me then?"

You hesitated. On one hand, being in such a small space with her not technically fully dressed seemed like a bad idea for the blooming crush you had on her, and on the other hand, it's not like she was naked or like it was anything more than innocent. In the end, you got a hold of yourself.

"Yes. Yes I can." You entered the fitting room quickly so as to not expose her. There she was, her back turned on you, her back in full view while she was holding the dress up to cover the rest of her body. Your mouth felt dry when you came closer to her.

"I can't catch the zipper, so if you could just…" she trailed off but you understood clearly what she needed.

"Okay, let me just…"

You chased a few strands of hair away from her back to go with the rest, the soft texture burning on your fingers. You noticed a few goosebumps on her skin at this point, and you wanted nothing more than to trace along them on her back. It was easy to imagine the silky skin under your fingertips, the warmth of it against your lips, and the taste between your teeth. There was a dull ache inside of you, like a deep resonance that called to you. But you controlled yourself. With as much delicacy as you could manage, you took the zipper between your fingers and brought it up carefully until it hit the top of the dress.

"There you go," you almost whispered before looking up. Your eyes met in the mirror and you could swear you saw the same hunger as yours deep inside her green irises.

"Thank you," she told you, and you saw her neck bobbed slightly as she swallowed hard. Electricity ran through you and your hand raised, ready to meet hers so you could turn her around and get more than you did the past week.

"Where is everyone?" You heard Tommy ask. You stopped in your tracks, back to reality. After blinking a few times, you took a step back and came out of the fitting room trying to look casual.

"Sorry, I was helping Wanda with something."

She actually came out in turn and showed the dress to Tommy. She looked like nothing had happened - and technically nothing had - but you could still feel the blood filling your ears like the single most important decision of your life had been taken away from you. You contained a sigh and went back to sit while the rest of the time spent in the store flew by.

*

A few days went by, during which you tried to control your growing feelings. You quickly realized it was a futile endeavor the one day Wanda joined you to swim in the morning. Seeing her in her swimming suit, you couldn't help but appreciate the display of skin and how utterly beautiful she looked - leftover traces of pregnancy and all. She caught you looking at her a few times, and without ever missing a beat she smiled at you. It was a simple moment that cemented your attraction to her and whatever else you weren't ready to admit you were feeling. But despite that simple interaction, the peace that came with her small reciprocation didn't last.

You were playing on the PS5 with Billy, while Tommy was outside working on his tan. This day had been slow, until now when Wanda started getting ready for her outing.

"I'm almost ready to leave," Wanda said as she adjusted her long hair over her shoulder, then her carmine dress. She put on her heels and looked herself over in the mirror. "I left you with enough money for whatever you want to order, don't break the house, I'll be back late so be in bed before I come back."

"You hear that Tommy?" Billy relayed.

"No, sorry, the sun is blocking my ears!"

You paused the game and stood up with Billy to see her out when you noticed the luxurious car waiting in front of the house. A man stood up next to it, dressed in a relaxed suit. You frowned slightly as you looked back at Wanda, and it hit you. This 'outing' was definitely a date. Your heart sank to the bottom of your stomach.

"Have fun, mom," Billy said as he gave his mother a hug. Meanwhile you stayed standing in the hallway, frozen as every little sign you thought you saw her give to you came to your mind. Had you been imagining it? Your focus came back on Wanda when you felt her gaze on you, very briefly. You took a deep breath to ground yourself.

"I'll see you all tomorrow," she said before she disappeared through the door. Without another word, Billy taped you in the shoulder on his way to the console. It was enough to get you to automatically join him, your mind lost in speculations.

You spent the rest of the evening coming in and out of your thoughts, unable to share them with anyone, even when the conversation veered towards Wanda's date as you were eating your pizza.

"So, what did the guy look like?" Tommy asked his brother, who shrugged.

"He was a bit far so I didn't get to see well enough but he looked okay."

"What about you, Y/n, saw anything?"

You went back to the moment you saw the man in your head, only the feeling of hating the man for no reason. "There was nothing special besides his cool car."

Tommy groaned at your answer, looking at his pizza with distaste.

"You guys suck at gossiping, I swear."

You laughed lightly, and Billy pushed the last slice of pizza towards you as he spoke very wisely.

"Mom doesn't want us to meet the guy, we shouldn't force it. It's only their second date, there is really no reason to push."

You took the pizza slice, listening intently as you ate.

"I just wish she'd date someone fun or something," Tommy pouted.

"You can't think only of yourself." Billy had a point there, and his brother knew it, but it also hit you. You had to consider them in the equation of whatever you were feeling, whether Wanda liked you back or not. You couldn't just keep thirsting over their mom like that. With that new revelation in mind, you all watched a movie and went to bed. 

The shadows around you were your only company, until you heard someone open the door downstairs. By the sounds she made, it had to be Wanda who was trying to be discreet as she was coming up the stairs. You followed her tracks around the house with your hearing, until she was finally in her bedroom. You closed your eyes, thinking she was going to go to bed but instead she opened the door to the balcony and took one of the chairs to sit on it. You frowned slightly, trying to visualize what she was doing but there was no point, you couldn't hear a thing anymore. You stayed in bed some more time until the curiosity was killing you, then you stood up and joined Wanda on the balcony. She was leaning against the railing, back in comfortable clothes, and looking at the sky hanging so far away from her. There was a glass and a bottle of wine sitting next to her. It was clear that she was lost in thoughts and didn't notice you.

"How was your date?" You asked rather bluntly, surprising her. She turned around quickly, wisps of red at her fingertips that vanished when she saw it was only you.

"Why aren't you asleep?" She returned on the defensive, her accent coming through for once. You approached and leaned against the railing like she did earlier.

"I just couldn't find sleep. Your turn now."

Wanda let out a sigh and resumed her position, not looking at you as she answered.

"I don't think I'm going to see him again." That answer made you feel conflicted. Your heart was making jumps and bounds at that, but her voice was so dejected that you couldn't help but feel bad for her. She grabbed her glass of wine and drank a sip. "Honestly I don't even know why I accepted a second date to begin with."

"That bad?" You tried in support to allow her to empty her mind.

"He just loved talking about himself, would try to order in my stead, and he had questionable opinions. To the point where I wondered why he would go on a date with me, a lowly woman with powers." You frowned at that last bit. Clearly the man was an idiot with an inflated ego.

"If he was that bad, why did you give him a second chance?" There was no blame in your voice, just pure curiosity. She took some time before she answered you, drinking a few more sips of wine.

"Part of it is loneliness, I suppose. Another part is…" she trailed off, her head briefly turning to look at you. "It doesn't really matter."

You hummed, half catching on to what she wasn't telling you. That you were part of the equation, even if she hadn't known you for long. But you had had your epiphany that night, so knowing that didn't matter anymore, you couldn't betray the twins.

"Loneliness sure sucks," you simply agreed. You took the glass of wine from her hand to take a sip while looking at her. Even in the dark you could see a small blush on her cheeks. "Makes us do dumb stuff."

"Aren't you a little bit young for that?" She arched an eyebrow at you and you smirked in return.

"I mean… yes," you admitted. "But not by much. Plus, it's not the first time I drink."

You winked at her and took one more sip before you put down the glass. She took it in turn and drank some more, then refilled it. There was peaceful, comfortable silence between the both of you as you shared the glass.

"Can I ask you something?" Wanda finally asked you, turning more towards you with a concerned but curious look. You shrugged slightly.

"Go ahead."

"How come… where…" she fiddled with her fingers and changed the leg she was most leaning against. "Where are your parents?"

You looked at her, no surprise on your face that she would ask that. It made sense after all that she would worry about it considering that you were invading her place for most of the summer. You linked your hands in front of you and looked away.

"I don't know, and frankly, I don't care. They're monsters." Memories started to surface as your eyes darkened. Visions of a dark basement and blood, of horrible words and terrible faith. When her hand landed on your shoulder, it took you out of those moments and anchored you to the now.

"I'm sorry," she whispered before her arms linked around you in a tentative hug. Her warmth and smell enveloped you like a reassuring blanket and you found yourself melting against her. Your vision became blurry; a few tears trailed down your cheeks. It took you some time, but eventually you calmed down enough to start enjoying the contact with Wanda.

You took a deep breath as you nudged your face closer to her neck and enjoyed the smell of cinnamon, sandalwood, and wine coming off of her. One of her hands made small circles on your back and you relaxed some more, until you emerged from the embrace and your gazes locked. The iridescent greens of her eyes were dancing under the moonlight like otherworldly flames ready to engulf you in its fire. It would have been so easy in this instant to lean closer and capture her lips, caress her rosy cheeks, and make her yours. And she did lean closer, her eyes fluttering shut, as you yourself started to initiate a kiss. But as you felt her breath on your lips, and could almost taste her supple mouth, a small voice in your head stopped you.

"I… I can't," you said, and she straightened up, looking red in shame.

"Oh. It's… I'm sorry, I shouldn't have…" she hid her face behind her hand and turned around, her back to you. Your lips formed a line and you took a step back.

"No, it's not you. I just… now… it's not a good time."

"No, you're right. We can't."

"I'm sorry," you said last before you fled to your bedroom, leaving Wanda alone on the balcony.

*

The dark basement had been your home for the last two years. At first, it wasn't that bad. You were in chains, but you got three meals a day and your parents would come and see you, trying to understand what happened, and encourage you to lose your powers somehow. And you tried, but you could always feel them in you, lurking in each shadow that you could see.

Then came the torture. New ways to deprive you of your 'gift from Satan'. First the exorcisms, then the cold of winter, then the electroshocks, then, then, then. One day, they simply didn't show up. No food and no water were brought to you. But no torture either. At first it happened maybe one time a week, they would forget you. It quickly became a habit. Two days a week, three days a week, five days a week. They would make sure you stayed alive, but it was like they had forgotten you. You were getting weaker and weaker, until one day you heard it.

Your doom.

A baby crying upstairs.

And at that moment you could feel in your guts what was their next step, what they needed to do to make sure that baby would be blessed by a life in the light of God. You almost accepted it. You felt so weak, ready to depart that torturous world that had been so unfair to you. So when the steps came down, you did nothing. When you saw the hammer, you did nothing. You laid there like a lamb waiting for slaughter.

He sat down next to you on your makeshift bed and caressed your hair with a tenderness you hadn't known the past two years. He told you it was going to be okay, that your suffering was over. You wanted it to be. Until you saw his smile amidst the tears, the happiness of finally getting rid of you overtaking him. It made you sick. He brought his hammer up. And then there was blood. Not yours, but his, as you held up a dagger made out of shadows. You stabbed him a second time. A third time. Almost went for a fourth but you couldn't see anything anymore. Everything was blurred by your tears and his screams.

She must have heard him, because she came downstairs. You threatened her for the key, and once the chains were down, you ran. You were no lamb. You were alive.

[nyaskitten]

EDIT: THIS POST IS INACCURATE !!!

I made the assumption Olive was editing the wiki articles, and while that's a very logical conclusion to reach, it was actually someone who shares the same viewpoints as them!!! Anything including the wiki articles and Olive's involvement is wrong and that's my bad!!!

Alright fellas, I guess we did it. We have reached the tipping point. I'm going to dedicate this post to calling out one specific person, @olivescales3, and their very toxic behavior. This post will be a bit messy, and I do apologize in advance, I'm writing this from the perspective of a Ninjago fan who also thinks beyond just the petty fandom stuff, what they're doing is just not cool.

I will clarify, I do not make this post for petty fandom drama, I make this to better spread awareness on some of the bullshit they're doing, so you can look out for and understand that they're bullshitting. Without further ado, I think we should just get into it.

So, what have they done?

Now, I should say while there is no 100000% concrete link between hyenabro and olivescales, I think based on their talking points (as well and the information I've recieved from friends in the Chima fandom, who have a bunch of prior experience with them,) it's safe to make this assumption!

So, what has olivescales DONE in this case? Simple, they've vandalized the Chima wiki on NUMEROUS occasions, even after several different people have revised their revisions, so as to discredit any conenctions between Dragons Rising and Chima.

(Green is their edits, red is the ones prior to theirs, I found this while going through their contributions section on their Fandom account, HyenaBro119)

As seen here, they have (under the username HyenaBro119) edited the pages for Chima AND the Forever Rock (I have two similar screenshots of essentially the same thing, one was from the Forever Rock article, the other was from Chima) and claimed Ninjago's lore to be some alternate universe. To further validate it, they write "Ras' visit to," but Ras NEVER claimed to have VISITED these locations, just that he knows them. They also claim the Forever Rock was destroyed, a blatant lie. Only a small section of rock on the Forever Rock was actually destroyed, not the whole thing.

Now, you're gonna ask "but Raine, how can you 100000% say it's them?" and I will cite common sense. While I cannot directly tie Olive to hyena, I CAN say their wording is SO very similar.

Both Hyena and Olive call DR "a parallel/alternate universe," and again, claim Forever Rock was destroyed, WHICH IS A FULL ON LIE. They're so adamant to protect "the sanctity of Chima's pre-established, set-in-stone lore" that they can't stop to think maybe, JUST MAYBE, sometimes a story can get new lore which can ALSO be canon!

I'd also love to share this HILARIOUS screenshot of one of their many posts, which not only backs up what I'm saying, but it's like damn they really set themself up huh!

Gee I wonder why you feel alone! Maybe it's because you are! Maybe it's because you're lying and making shit up to prove yourself right! No one is as big of a hater as you!

The also LOVE saying Ninjago cannot do anything with Chima unless they get express permission from the creator of Chima, some guy named John Derevlany, but oh man what's this I see before me?

CO-CREATOR? Oh but Olive, I thought he was the CREATOR of Chima, not CO-creator... ALSO Lego owns the rights to Chima, and Ninjago, and every other theme, as said by Doc himself! If anything he wasn't really dodging the question, just giving a vague answer, because he doesn't know much about the old contracts!

From what he said, it's clear that if they wanted to use anything from the other themes, they'd have to consult folks over at LEGO, not John Derevlany or Tommy A.!

Now here's the THING, I GET where they're coming from, it CAN be annoying to have people only care about a thing you like in relation to something else, but when you're going out of your way to argue that none of it can be canon and it's all an alternate universe it's like... god it's so sad and pathetic really.

Their lies and BS don't even end there with the wiki shit, because I have THIS glorious gem.

A) They bring up that the Ninjago folk do not know who the Phoenixes are which is like, okay??? Why the fuck are they gonna know about how another universe was created??? That's like if someone told me I don't exist in the same universe as my glasses because I have no clue who made them, that is to say, that's stupid as FUCK to say!

B) OH they say something REAAALLL funny ohohohho I am actually dying. Olive says the Phoenix icon "appeared in a Ninjago episode" and "Ninjago tends to reuse assets." Yep, NINJAGO is the one who reused the phoenix symbol, mhm. The symbol that was made in 2011 for NINJAGO, which cameoed in CHIMA in 2014, was actually just an asset reuse by Ninjago. I feel like this actually goes to show how desparate they are to feel right and validated, because this? This a lie! Ninjago made the symbol, and because Tommy A. is co-creator to both, he wanted to slip in a neat Ninjago reference, so he slipped in the Phoenix symbol Nya uses for the Phoenix tribe, not the other way around!

Another REALLY funny thing they did, aside from the wiki and Phoenix symbol shit, was this hilarious attempt at being right!

Yes, the compared the WOLF Masks to BATman's cowl, and did a horribly rough comparison illustration that very much does not make sense. If you actually compared them side by side, the only similarities would be they're both angry animal themed mask with pointy ears, which does NOT go very far in the long run. The foreheads they drew aren't even the same fucking shape lol.

OH ANS WE CANNOT FORGET THIS ONE! Their using a post about the Palestinian genocide and boycotting Lego in order to complain about Ninjago.

They claim Ninjago is produced by Lego, unlike other Lego shows, which is an EXTREMELY bullshit fucking claim. Just like Chima and Nexo Knights, Ninjago is produced by Lego, it's not JUST Ninjago produced by Lego, they are all Canadian-Danish CGI action shows, and they're all known to have Tommy Andreasen involved in the creation of them.

They're using a post about boycotting for the sake of innocent people DYING to complain about a lego ninja show for... killing evil people? It doesn't glorify war, the worst it does in regards to war is like not address how fucked up it can be in regards to the Serpentine War, but that's like it. I think it's so funny they want to single out Ninjago as if it's the only TV series where villains die for trying to conquer/destroy the world.

So, what do I want the takeaway from this post to be? What do I want you to get from it? I don't really know anymore, I just don't want Olive's horrendously toxic behaviors, and straight up lies to stop. If anything I think it's beautiful that Ninjago is making others interested in revisiting Chima again, stop being such a fucking hater dude. They act like Chima is some holy grail of Lego, the greatest thing since bread, but it, just like Ninjago, Dreamzzz, Hidden Side, and Nexo Knights, have Tommy in creative roles.

To act like Chima is somehow greater than is to place it on an unrealistic pedestal as if it's a godsend, when in reality it was co-created by Tommy Fucking Andreasen.

If you read through all of this, I do THOROUGHLY appreciate it, I didn't mean for this post to descend into an angry ramble but ehhh yk how it is. And Olive, if you see this, please, just stop with the bullshit.

[heartpascal]

the gold. . .

▹ — joel miller x f!reader

▹ — summary: you don’t like the person joel’s become.

▹ — a/n: not my favourite writing ever :( i love this concept tho it would make such good angst!!! also i’m only part way through the game so idk if this sorta thing is really covered :’) either way, go easy on me pls <3 kinda tempted to do a pt 2 where they meet again years later via tess buuuut yk

▹ — warnings: angst, like. quite a bit of it, joel’s kinda a bad person ish, grief, arguments, (mentioned) killing, blood

masterlist

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

The outbreak had torn the world apart, it had torn your world apart. But then again, that was everybody’s story, anyone who managed to survive had lost everything they valued. Most people had to have the debate if survival was even worth the suffering or seemed to come pre-packaged with.

Hell, you were one of the lucky ones! You were alive, your fiancé was alive, but the two of you had lost the thing most precious to you; Sarah.

For a long time, you were convinced that you’d soon follow her footsteps, finally kick the bucket in some way or other. But miracle after miracle led to you living, with a lot of those miracles being orchestrated by Joel or Tommy. For years, the three of you looked after each other, surviving in the QZ together as best as you could. Sure, you and Joel wouldn’t be getting married, and yes, Tommy became more restless as the days went on, but you were together.

You thought that was all that mattered.

An aching that started at your chest had long since spread to the rest of your body, settling heavily in your bones and leaving you exhausted.

Tired of Joel being out all times of the night, with his newest crew of people who you couldn’t help but get chills from. Tired of Tommy refusing to cooperate with the authorities in this dystopian world that was now your reality. Tired of being the only one who was still trying to stick together, to survive together.

There was nothing worse than watching the man you love die in front of your very eyes. It was slow, at first, the grief over Sarah making everything seem minor, excusable. It made the world harder to live in, the centre of both yours and Joel’s universe now suddenly gone, and it was like you’d lost your orbit. Like you were floating in space, unsure where you were meant to be going.

Eventually, you found Joel and Tommy being the people you’d orbit. Somehow, you always came back to the shitty apartment that Joel refused to make feel anything like a home.

You were the only one who knew that this was your reality now, and you could either live in it, or you should have just died with Sarah. You wanted to live, with Joel, with his brother, who used to be your best friend.

It started when Joel finally figured out the best, most efficient, way to sneak out of the QZ without being caught.

You felt uneasy for days, unsure as to why, but when you saw Joel hammering nails into a strip of leather, you couldn’t help but feel something was very, very wrong. You knew it was a bad idea to follow him, knew you could get everyone, including Joel and yourself, caught and likely killed, but you had to know what was going on, what they were getting up to.

With your heart hammering inside your chest, you watched from a small distance away as Joel rolled out the leather strip along a road, confusion dancing across your eyebrows. It was only when you heard the distinct rev of a truck engine that you realised what he could be doing.

A man splashed with blood stepped out of the building, screaming at the people in the truck for help, for anything, and you watched as they approached him hesitantly, the truck rolling over the nails in the leather strip.

The tires screeched as all the air streamed out, the truck trying to reverse but not getting far enough as the group — Joel’s group — approached.

You turned away, hurrying back to the QZ with your stomach turning, your whole body flinching when you heard the unmistakable sound of gunfire.

Managing to sneak back in to the QZ without being caught would’ve impressed you, had you not just witnessed a horror you almost couldn’t fathom. When you got back to your dingy apartment, you pulled open the cupboard that the weapons were kept in, and held your hand over your mouth when you saw the gun that usually sat locked in there was gone.

Your brain could barely catch up, the thought of Joel, your Joel, killing those people was strongly refuted, your own mind betraying you by conjuring up old images of domestic bliss.

Sarah’s head across your lap as you leant into Joel’s chest, one hand gently holding on to her hair, whilst your other was occupied by Joel’s own. Mornings of Joel scrambling around the house, running late as usual, whilst you and Sarah cooked breakfast together. Then, the three of you sat at the dining table, you and Sarah playfully arguing over who got shell in the pan whilst you were cooking.

The day Joel had asked you to marry him, with Sarah stood by his side, just coming up on twelve years old, her eyes so big and wide as she smiled at you. The two of them having matching expressions as they awaited your answer: a package deal, the two of them.

How could this man be the same one you lived with now? How could he hurt those people, unprompted by anybody but the shitbags he had started hanging around with? You felt sick to your stomach, like everything around you wasn’t real. Surely, you’d wake up any second, see Sarah already up and bruising her teeth. You’d go back upstairs to make sure Joel was awake, before continuing to help Sarah with breakfast. This whole outbreak thing had to be a dream, because you didn’t know what you’d do if it wasn’t.

What would you do, if the reality is that the man you love is dead? If he’s gone, twisted and darkened beyond recognition?

But that night, when Joel returned late as usual, you saw a splash of red underneath his jacket. He came in with more supplies, things you hadn’t been able to find for weeks, that miraculously turned up, he claimed. He shoved the gun back in the cupboard, locking it up as casually as you’d lock your back door.

You had no choice but to face the truth; you lost everyone the night of the outbreak. Sarah is dead, and now, clearly, so is Joel. There’s nothing left of the man you agreed to marry, not a single drop of that love reflected in his hollow eyes.

He saw you staring at him, eyes wide with what could only be horror, and snapped, “What? I got somethin’ on my face?”

“I can’t believe you— I can’t believe you!” You cried out, standing from the couch you’d been sat on since your return, awaiting his arrival anxiously. Everything within you was hoping you’d just found his doppelgänger, or something, but no. This was Joel, your Joel did this.

His eyes hardened, eyebrow casting shadows over the brown colour you remembered so fondly, “What can’t you believe now?” He scoffed out, shoving his backpack off of his shoulder and dropping it loudly on the wooden floor.

“I followed you,” you told him, watching the way his eyes widened, realisation hitting him like a ton of bricks. “I saw you, and your—your group. How could you do that? Those were people, Joel, people! Trying to survive in this hellhole just like you and me!”

Joel’s jaw clenched, “You think you know everything, huh?” He asked, sneering at you, acting as if you were an idiot, as if you were just a naive little girl who didn’t know anything about the real world.

“I’ve surely seen enough! You planned that. You helped them do that. People are dead, because of you.”

“Everybody is dead!” Joel retorted, his voice reaching the level of yelling, and he shocked even himself with his lack of restraint, the comment pulling every reservation you had from your body.

“I’m not.”

His eyes followed you as you stood, watched as your face hardened to that of stone, a look he had never seen from you. At least, not directed towards him. It filled his chest with some kind of dread, one of the first feelings besides anger and something a step further than heartbreak since Sarah had died in his arms.

You huffed, shoving past him and pretending you didn’t notice him following close on your feet. You grabbed your backpack, shoving the few clothes you wore often into it, as well as the brush you kept beside what could only be loosely referred to as your bed.

“Where are you going?”

“Away from you, anywhere as long as it’s far, far, away from you.” You snapped at him, the bite in your words unfamiliar to him. “You think everyone is dead, but they’re not. I’m not. You’re not. This isn’t some fantasy land where bad things don’t count, Joel.”

“I’m doing what it takes to survive!” Joel counters you, his fingertips stretching in order to reach out for you, but he closes his hand into a fist before it gets close to you.

“That’s a lie, and you know it.” You tell him, unable to even look in his direction.

He sucks in a long breath, closing his eyes as he tries to remain composed. When he opens them, he sees you looking over at him, and he wished he’d kept them closed. Your eyes, which had once looked at Joel with nothing but adoration, were filled with angry tears, and you stared at him with something new, the warmth gone from your gaze.

“I get that you’re still grieving Sarah, so am I, but I would never do something like that. The you that I know? He wouldn’t either.”

Your voice was softened when you spoke, giving him this one chance to repent his sins, but the mention of his daughter sends him over the edge once more, words flying out of his mouth far before he could even think to stop them.

“You don’t get it,” he snarled, face red and matching the blood that stained his clothes, “She’s—was my daughter, not yours, you could never understand.”

You stared at him, expression unchanging even as Joel seemed to sober up, realising he might’ve gone a step too far. You could see the situation more clearly, and if he’d have listened, you would’ve told him he’d leaped across the line.

He reaches for you, trying to keep his grasp on you, but you pull away before his fingers could even graze your skin.

Joel’s face falls, but you stand firm.

“Sarah was my daughter, Joel. The closest thing I’ll ever get to having one, anyway. I certainly loved her like she was my own.” You say, his eyes falling closed as he let out a breath through his nose. “This isn’t what she would’ve wanted for you.”

You think of the little girl who looked up to Joel as if he hung the stars and moon himself, and for her, you’re sure he would have done. You stare at the man in front of you, and you find no resemblance to that little girl’s dad.

“Listen—”

“No, Joel! I’m done, you hear me?” You yell out, swinging your bag across your back, “I’m done.”

You pull off the engagement ring that hadn’t left your hand in years, and shove it into his hand as you pass by him, walking back towards the living room. Your hands fumble as you reach into the weapons cupboard, and you hear Joel’s hurried footsteps as he approaches you. Your hands grasp the gun, and you check the ammo, seeing that yes, there were bullets missing. It gets shoved in your bag, along with the knife you had dropped in there once moving in.

“You—c’mon, you can’t do this!” Joel pleads then, his hands reaching for you once more, but once again finding nothing to hold on to, with you moving away from him to grab the few ration cards you’d earned recently. “The—there’s curfew, just stay, stay here.”

You shake your head firmly, unable to tell him no to his face. Your confidence is fading, and you just want to curl up and cry, preferably in the arms of the man you love.

“Don’t leave me,” he says, his fist squeezed tightly around your engagement ring, not wanting to lose it. He feels sick, seeing your hand bare of it. “We—we made a promise to each other! Darlin’ just listen to me!”

“I can’t,” you say, your voice shaking and unsteady, “It’s too late, Joel. You’re too late. I—I don’t even know who you are!”

“It’s me, darlin’, it’s still me.” Joel insists as you approach the door, pulling it open, but you just don’t recognise him.

“No,” you refute, “this isn’t you.”

You close the door behind you, hearing the crash of the weapons cupboard hitting the floor, the sound of Joel’s yell only cementing your decision to make a hasty exit.

[abyssal808]

S1 Soulmate Au prompt inspired by @subbaculture 's prompt wherein "Eddie learns Tengwar just to be special and so Steve's been kicking around with "What's Kickin', Sexy?" on his body

What Tommy Hagan hadn’t been blessed with in terms of intelligence. God - in his allegedly infinite wisdom - had seen fit to redistribute into shoulder width.

Tommy, in turn, swanned around Hawkin’s High shoulder-checking every freak, geek and nerd into nearby lockers; with the kind of wingspan better suited to weirdly proportioned monkeys.

Hellfire members were no stranger to it. Two weeks ago Hagan had run into Gareth hard enough to leave a bruise. A “bump” with enough force behind it that he’d bounced off the lockers and landed on the floor.

Which, fine, two could play at that game. Even if Hagan could barely get his hand off Carol’s tits to realize there were counter-moves to be made at all.

A grade A dick move, even if it was also incredibly boring and pedestrian. The kind of thing jocks who barely had two braincells to rub together saw as peak comedy. Giggling like a cross between a group of cavemen and a flock of pre-school girls whenever their ring-leader du jour started herding freaks like a neurotic border collie.

“Watch it, freak.” Hagan hissed, skirting around Eddie without bothering to shove him at all. Giving a wide berth to whatever zone of contagious freak cooties being Eddie Munson brought to the table.

Behind him, Gareth - blocked from the rest of the hall by Eddie’s leather jacket, in a way only freshies were short enough to pull off - buried a laugh in a cough, muffled into the heel of his hand. Not missing the way that even Hagan - the most infamous asshole of them all - looked ready to bolt as soon as Eddie waved him off in a jaunty salute.

Victory tasted sweet and electric. Fizzing under his skin the way Wayne’s Miller Lites would bubble in the back of his throat, whenever Eddie stole a sip from the half open cans in the back of their fridge. It made him stupid in a way those brief tastes of beer hadn’t managed to yet.

Being The Freak came with perks. An untouchable radius that left Eddie drunk with power. Riding the high of knowing that maybe Highschool didn’t have to suck all the time. That he could play at being a rabid guard dog for the lost little sheep of the world, rail against dickheads like Hagan and win.

Maybe he could use it to plead temporary insanity for what he did next. Riding the high into a really, spectacularly stupid idea.

Everyone had their words.

Eddie’s were tucked away, hidden along the curve of his rib. A curly chicken scratch that mixed print and cursive into a barely legible mess.

‘Is that like, yiddish?’

A weird-ass question, until Eddie had pulled an all nighter on a now infamous school night, falling in love with Middle earth. Head filled with nothing but the dark halls of Khazad-dûm, the sweeping boughs of Lothlórien.

Speak friend and enter.

Pedo mellon a minno.

He’d traced the words over and over. Thrilled by the lilt, the cadence, the beautiful rise and fall of consonants no one else would understand.

Setting his heart there and then on the dorkiest greeting anyone could have come up with. But hey, it was original, which was half the battle people went through when picking soulmate greetings.

He’d gone through several variations. Always in Sindarin, because why the hell not.

People usually saved them, tucked them far away from casual conversation. Bizarre phrases, always non-sequitour, brought out only for special occasions. That lightning strike of instant attraction. People you could see yourself connecting with. Hoping they would be a part of you as much as you were theirs.

He couldn’t see himself connecting with Tommy Hagan in a million years. Not even if they waited in that hallway until the heat death of the universe.

But that didn’t mean he couldn’t terrorize him with the possibility.

“What’s Kickin’ Sexy?”

He yelled after Hagan’s retreating back, with its fuck-off wide shoulders; elvish mangled, but passable. Enjoying the rictus of horror on his face, going from anger to fear and back again.

He shifted on his heel, pushing Gareth further behind him in case things got ugly. Herding him back towards Jeff with little bumps, as both of them tried to muscle down their cackling. Nerdy enough to piece together the gist of what Eddie had been hollering about. Even if Jeff was better at Quenya, because he was a weirdo and a purist about that kind of shit.

All in all, a job well done, assuming Hagan didn’t flip his shit and start throwing punches to assert dominance.

Or at least, it felt like it, until Harrington - trailing behind Hagan - sucked all the air out of the room. Hands on his hips, a furrow on his brow, blurting it out without even thinking about it.

“Is that like, Yiddish?”

You could have heard a pin drop.

Panic clamped around Eddie’s throat like a vice. The same way Gareth’s hand, tiny and tense - he had yet to hit his growth spurt - wrapped around the edge of Eddie’s leather jacket. Pushing past the waistband of his jeans to claw at skin.

The side that mattered, one they both knew had those words that wrapped around Eddie’s chest. Curving towards the sternum.

Whatever face he was making gave it away instantly.

Harrington’s face shuttered and fell. A whole host of micro expressions that passed through in a second before he scrubbed them away. A pair of shaking hands that rubbed at his eyes and dragged down his face. Peeking at Eddie through a gap in his fingers.

“Jesus Christ it’s you; isn’t it?”

Behind Eddie, Gareth tugged him half a step back, nails digging into his hip. Little half-moon crescents he barely felt now, but would find later.

“Steve?” The waver in Hagan’s voice would have been funny if it wasn’t nauseating.

Terrifying, when Steve waved him off and stepped towards Eddie. Jerky and halting, like a puppet with half it’s strings cut.

“I can’t fucking believe this Munson. You gotta tell me if it is.” Steve bit out, with a wobble that sounded too trembling and confused to be anger. Even if it would come later.

It was probably coming later.

Anger always got there in the end, with boys like Harrington. Sharp comebacks and sharper right hook always winning out, spurred on by that bone-deep, animal fear of losing your place in the social food chain.

King Steve didn’t seem worried it yet though. Adding to the bizarre hilarity of the situation as he undid his belt and untucked his shirt to the concerned shouts of everyone left in the hall, witnesses to this trainwreck.

If Eddie hadn’t been convinced he’d died and gone to purgatory a minute earlier. He would have been convinced there and then.

As Steve Harrington turned around, bunched his striped polo up high and his khaki’s down low. Stripping down to show the athletic curve of a hip. The dip of a waist that looked small next to his swimmer’s shoulders - almost wide enough to rival Hagan’s - a scattering of moles that dusted across his lower back, framing his mark.

There, on King Steve’s back, bracketed by dimples, low enough to count as a truly slutty tramp stamp sat Eddie’s words. The swooping curves of Tengwar branded into his skin.

“What’s kickin’, Sexy?”

[princessfbi]

Kisses twelve for Bucktommy

Kisses + 12. Against a wall kiss + Bucktommy

Danger. That’s what he tasted like. Danger. Danger and those stupid freaking cherries he kept popping in his mouth whenever he lingered in one spot for too long. The same mouth Tommy couldn’t resist. Not even as he clawed his own nails into his thighs until he was sure he would bruise or looked away whenever he was near or ground his teeth to dust as he watched him flirt with other people at the bar. Did they feel it too? Did they feel like they were the center of the universe when those sky blue eyes were focused on them? Did they feel the burn in their chest when they watched those two perfectly plump lips lift up into a smirk? Did it matter? Because none of them were out there with them. Just Tommy. Just Tommy was getting to kiss Evan with a hunger that had been churning in his gut. Evan made a small, desperate sound as his back hit the wall behind him. His hands, his legs, wrapped around Tommy like he wanted to climb him like a tree. It was frantic and messy with teeth clashing and tongues battling but Tommy didn’t care. It was dangerous and stupid. Anyone could walk out on them. His whole freaking house was just past that barely propped open back door and all it would take was for someone to come looking for him to find him like this. The thought had his heart lurching up into his throat. Tommy sucked in a breath that burned harsher than whiskey as lips pulled away. He wasn’t ready. Not yet. Maybe not ever. Maybe this was all he could ever have. But he knew he wasn’t ready. He wasn’t ready to be seen that way. “No one can know,” Tommy said, his voice more of a growl when murmuring those words against Evan’s lips. He hated himself for it when Evan's lips were so soft. He bit after his mouth, sucking Evan’s top lip in between his teeth and pushed in with his tongue to stoke the fire some more. Evan shuddered in his arms as the filthiest little whine filled Tommy’s lungs. They shouldn’t. Someone would come looking for him. Howie probably. And Howie was the best of them. He wouldn’t look at him differently if he found Tommy with a hard on and the twunkie bartender in his arms. But he wasn’t ready. He couldn’t stop either. Not when his hands wrapped so perfectly around Evan’s waist. Not when Evan tipped his head up and chased after Tommy’s mouth like he never wanted to let go. Evan arched up into him and Tommy groaned as that hard unmistakable length rutted against his own. Pleasure sparked like kindling and Tommy was engulfed with Evan Evan Evan. He pinned Evan’s hips back and could’ve gotten drunk of the way Evan responded to that. Evan writhed beneath him. Fingers fisted in his shirt collar and tugged and pulled on the fabric until it was going to be so overstretched he’d never be able to wear it in public again. “Come on,” Evan said, grinning against Tommy’s mouth. Tommy bit another kiss for his troubles. “You think I’m going to ruin this? Do you know how hard it was to get your attention?” Tommy stopped at that, his heart thundering in his chest. “My attention?” Evan hummed as he nodded and Tommy saw it there too. That flash of vulnerable honesty that streaked across the cocky overconfidence. All that flirting. All that torture he’d put Tommy through and it was to get his attention? Tommy's? But that vulnerable truth? That small token given to Tommy for safe keeping? It made something in Tommy's chest flutter free from the cage he'd locked himself in all those years ago and for once, Tommy didn't want to chase it back. It was Evan’s turn then to hide. He skated his hands into Tommy’s hair and pulled him down, sighing into the kiss when Tommy blanketed him with his body. He fit so perfectly in his arms. Yeah. Tommy was screwed.

For @buddie-buddie and @bigfootsmom

[a-deep-ocean-of-secrets]

What do we think Tommy's dating history is?

We are all very familiar with Buck’s extensive dating history and his serious relationships, so I thought we’d throw Tommy a bone and speculate a bit on his past. Let’s start at the beginning. 

In 7x10, he revealed to Buck that his father was a lot like Gerrard, so Tommy essentially grew up in a homophobic household. When did Tommy start realizing he had feelings for guys instead of girls? Middle school? High school? And, with the bigotry he would have been facing at home, would he have acted on those feelings at all? Or do we think he tried to push such desires aside and have girlfriends instead? Did he ever have a crush on a boy at school? Maybe he would have kissed one and claimed it was a ‘drunken mistake’ at a party, or under the guise of a dare he might have kissed a boy under the bleachers. Or maybe he had one close guy friend and they would ‘help each other out’, but would staunchly proclaim ‘no homo’ afterward. 

Next is his time in the army. It’s a sad thought that he might have viewed joining the army as an escape from his father but would have ended up in an even harsher environment under DADT and with COs who most likely shared traits with both his father and Gerrard. He would have had to actively hide his sexuality (if he had even made peace with it yet, which is unlikely since he probably went into the army right at 18). Do we think he would have let himself explore any potential feelings he might have had for his fellow brothers in arms? I know some theorize that the reason he left the army could have been a dishonorable discharge due to DADT, but he didn’t express any negativity when briefly speaking of his time in the army to Buck. I think he would have kept a tight lid on his feelings, and maybe continued to believe he was straight. 

Assuming right after he left the army he went into firefighting, that puts him at the 118 with Gerrard, who was terrible. So he was once again under the thumb of a bigot. From “Chimney Begins”, we know he claimed to have a girlfriend, but he was quick to have an excuse for why she couldn’t come and cook for the 118. Was the girlfriend real or just a lie for Tommy to pass as straight? If she was real, were they in a genuine relationship or was Tommy using her as a beard? And if Tommy was secretly single, was he exploring his feelings for men on the down low? Going to gay bars or clubs? Hooking up, but never taking it further than a one-night stand? How much self-loathing would he have been dealing with? 

Jump ahead to Hen arriving at the 118 and being unapologetically herself, which helped in getting Gerrard ousted. A few years pass as the 118 cycles through captains but has a better workplace environment. Even as Tommy has become closer to Hen and Chimney, he still doesn’t feel comfortable coming out, probably due to the lingering effects of Gerrard. But in that time, do we think he has taken more steps in accepting being gay? Maybe he has tried dating instead of just hooking up. Or was he still firmly in the closet? 

He told Buck on their first date that it wasn’t until he left the 118 that he felt ready to fully embrace his identity. So, in universe, he has only been out of the closet for six to seven years. What did that look like when he finally accepted that he was gay? Did he have a Buck 1.0 phase where he sowed his wild oats? Did he want something serious right off the bat? We know, just like Buck, he’s dated people he’s met on calls and that it never ended well. 

Has he had a serious boyfriend? Do we think he’s ever exchanged an ‘I love you’ with someone? Moved in with someone? Maybe he even planned to one day marry one of his partners? What is his type? We know he doesn’t like dark and broody (case in point: Buck). What was he looking for when his old pal called him up and asked him to fly them into a hurricane to look for a lost cruise ship?

[talktonytome]

The One Where They Get Their Dance

Read on ao3 3.5k words

Despite the chaos, Maddie and Chimney’s wedding ceremony turned out so beautifully, in Buck’s opinion. He’s ridiculously happy for them, and he still can’t believe Tommy showed up for him. Buck knows Tommy had promised, but he wouldn’t have blamed him for not showing up, especially after fighting that beast of a fire. The man walked through the hospital doors, like a dream- straight from his own chaos, still in his turnouts and covered in soot, because he couldn’t wait and well? Buck had to devour him for it, of course.

All in all, he can’t really complain, except, he really had been looking forward to that dance with Tommy, when he was officially his date, and he could step out on the dance floor, show everyone how proud he was to have him by his side. Sure, they’ve gone on other dates: slow coffee dates in the morning, dinner dates that always left Buck blushing, and they’ve even gotten through a good chunk of movies, but he’s still determined to get his dance.

He’s presented with the perfect opportunity when he receives a last-minute wedding invitation from a couple he helped rescue, during a restaurant fire a few months back. And who was he to turn down a sign from the universe? He had already asked Tommy on a wedding date, his sister’s of all people, so he isn’t really worried about coming on too strong.

That night, he and Tommy are having a quiet night in, just the two of them. Tommy cooked a simple, but delicious pasta and even brought a bottle of wine from his collection, because as Buck had learned, his boyfriend was a bit of an aficionado. To be totally honest, Buck still can’t discern all the different notes, but he doesn’t really care, as long as he gets to lick the wine from Tommy’s lips at the end of the night. Tommy’s topping his glass off, when Buck decides to ask him.

“So, what are you doing Saturday?” He takes a sip of wine, looking at Tommy over the rim of his glass.

“Hm, I’m surprised you don’t already know, since we made the pretty serious move of synching our calendars,” Tommy deadpans, but the glint in his eyes betrays him every time.

Buck rolls his eyes and leans over to gently flick Tommy’s nose. “I was trying to have a cute moment!”

Tommy chuckles, darting to kiss and playfully nip Buck’s finger. “I thought we were already having a cute moment? I mean, I did wine and dine you, even lit candles and everything.”

“I hate you,” Buck tries for a serious face, but immediately breaks into a smile, because he’s still not used to the fact that he can have this: easy, playful banter with someone who meets and matches him every time, without worrying about saying or doing something wrong.

“Well, that would be very inconvenient, since I really like you,” Tommy replies with the fond look he often directs at Buck, head tilted slightly, eyes unbearably soft. “Ok, ask me again.”

“W-what?” Buck stammers. “You don’t have to humor me, I was just kidding.”

“Evan, ask me again.”

Buck’s chest tightens with something that feels too soon to give name to, but it’s there, nonetheless.

“What are you doing Saturday?” He asks again, looking at Tommy from beneath his lashes, biting his bottom lip, because he knows what he’s doing. Sure enough, Tommy’s eyes dart to his lips, then trace back up to his eyes.

“Saturday?”

“I still owe you that dance. You free?”

***

So far, the night is a success, if Buck says so himself. He finally got to see Tommy in a suit, and god, it’s as if he was poured into it, the way it fit him. He can’t wait to peel it off him later. Buck knows he doesn’t look too shabby himself; In fact, it was such a nice little ego boost, being such a hot couple. By the way Tommy’s been looking at him, he knows his suit’s not gonna survive the night either.

The ceremony is short and sweet and the couple’s vows may have made him tear up a little. They even give him a little shout out and the way Tommy looks at him- “Damn, I’m so lucky my date’s such a hero,” he whispers in his ear, “handsome too.”

Dinner is just about wrapping up and the DJ’s testing his equipment at the edge of the dance floor. Buck and Tommy lean against the bar, as they wait for the dancing to begin. Tommy swipes a couple of champagne flutes from a waiter passing by, while Buck scarfs down the rest of the plate he piled with food from the charcuterie grazing table earlier.

Tommy declined, saying something about not being a fan of food everyone touched. “Suit yourself!” Buck had grinned, mouthful of meat and cheese. He knew he probably looked gross, but he could hardly feel insecure when Tommy looked at him with such soft eyes and a dopey smile.

He washes down the last of it with the champagne Tommy hands him and wipes his hands with a napkin Tommy seemingly pulls out of thin air. “Thanks, babe,” he says, then holds out his hand. The DJ’s inviting all the couples to dance now, and butterflies start to thunder in Buck’s stomach. “Can I have this dance?”

“I dunno my dance card’s kind of full,” Tommy teases, but grasps Buck’s hand immediately and starts leading him toward the dance floor. “Let’s go before the grandmas eyeing me come fight you off.”

“Dance card? What are you, 80? He laughs and starts to follow after him, but a sharp pain in his gut and a wave of nausea cause him to freeze mid-step. Ok, maybe it wasn’t just butterflies he was feeling earlier. His hands and face feel clammy and if he doesn’t find a bathroom soon…

“Evan?” Tommy stops immediately, noticing Buck’s lack of movement. “What’s wrong?”

Buck is mortified. Why did this have to happen right here and right now? He was so close to that dance.

“Um, bathroom,” is all he manages before slipping from Tommy’s grasp and running toward the nearest bathroom. Luckily, there were some conveniently located twenty feet away. Even that felt eternal, though, and he begged the universe not to make him have an accident in public. Thankfully, it listens, because he makes it to the first open one and he slams the door shut, locking it behind him.

He hurls violently into the toilet, sweat beading across his forehead and down his neck and back. Oh, god, he feels miserable. When he thinks there can’t possibly be more, he heaves into the bowl again and again, until he finally feels empty.

Suddenly, there’s a knock at the door. Buck’s still catching his breath on the floor. “Occupied,” he mutters weakly.

“Evan, it’s me. Is everything okay?” There’s evident concern in Tommy’s voice and if Buck could see him, he’d know his brow was furrowed, too. “You just ran off and it’s been a little while. I got worried,” he admits.

“I think I might have died a little…might still be actively dying, actually, ” Buck groans. And apparently that was the wrong thing to say because Tommy’s jiggling the door, trying to get in.

“I’ll break down the door if I need to,” he warns from the other side. “I’m a firefighter,” he deadpans.

“No, no. Sorry, I’m not actually dying, I don’t think,” Buck says, hoping that will placate him. “I think I just threw up everything I’ve ever eaten in my life. Guess you were right about not wanting to eat from the grazing table,” he chuckles ruefully. “You can say ‘I told you so.’ ”

“Evan,” Tommy huffs affectionally. “I wouldn’t say that when you’re clearly hurting, baby. Please let me in, I need to see you.”

“Tommy, I look like shit, I feel like shit. This is so fucking embarrassing,” he mumbles.

“I don’t care and I promise you, I’ve seen worse. We both have.”

Buck can’t argue with that. He’s had some pretty gross calls, but that’s the life. He stands on shaky legs and hobbles over to the sink to rinse out his mouth the best he can. He splashes cold water on his face to get some of the sweat off and dries off with a scratchy paper towel, takes a deep breath and unlocks the door.

As soon as he hears the lock click open, Tommy barges in and pulls Buck into his arms. Buck wants to die a little; He knows how he must smell, how he must look. But Tommy doesn’t seem to care.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Tommy breathes against his temple, pressing a soft kiss there. “I’m so sorry you’re hurting,” he rubs soothing circles into Buck’s back. “You feeling any better?”

“I think so,” he says hiding his face in Tommy’s neck. “My stomach feels done, at least.”

Tommy hums, then pulls back to take a proper look at him. He pushes a few matted, sweaty curls away from Buck’s forehead and scans the rest of him, assessing his state. The concern and care in his eyes breaks Buck’s heart a little. They haven’t been doing this for long enough to feel this much so soon, but he’s more than halfway in love with Tommy already. He’s been feeling it build up, with every look, every touch, every laugh, so fuck a timeline, really

“Well, firefighter Buckley, I think you’re gonna make it,” Tommy declares softly, much too tenderly to come across as anything close to teasing. “I’m prescribing fluids and rest,” he nods firmly, “and cuddles,” he adds for good measure.

“Yes sir,” Buck smiles at him. Then, he remembers their dance and grimaces. “Sorry about the dance, kinda Bucked that up, huh?”

Tommy tilts his chin up to really look at him. “Hey now, none of that. This wasn’t your fault,” he assures. “And what did we say about doing that? Don’t put yourself down, baby.”

He doesn’t say it in a way that makes Buck feels chastised— he says it like Buck is precious, someone to be cherished, and it makes his heart soar. “M’kay, you’re right,” he agrees, “but I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

“I have no doubt that you will.” Tommy pulls him in again to kiss his forehead. “Ready to go? I don’t think the happy couple will begrudge us if we don’t say goodbye.”

“Yes, please,” Buck sighs, resting his head against Tommy’s strong chest. He feels at home there, but he doesn’t say that out loud, not yet. “Take me home?” He says instead.

“Of course.”

***

A few weeks later, they get their second, (third?) chance. This time, the plan is foolproof. They’re going to a fundraiser gala for LA first responders and it’s the perfect occasion to finally get their dance. Buck makes sure their schedules align and that neither of them eats anything questionable beforehand. Their tuxedos are pristinely pressed, and he even bought a bottle of fancy champagne to share before their car picks them up.

They both get ready at the loft, since it’s closer to the venue. Tommy walks out of the bathroom, curls soft, but styled. A rogue one rests on his forehead and it makes Buck’s breath hitch. He’s wearing his pants and dress shirt, leaving the jacket on for last. He looks very Mr. Darcy-ish with the white shirt and dark pants- and by god, Buck is one exposed ankle away from swooning.

He was planning on opening the champagne, but if he doesn’t walk away to cool off for a few minutes, he will do something drastic, like get Tommy out of those clothes and climb him like a tree. They’d never make it to the gala for their dance. He sighs and attempts to shake the thoughts from his head. Tommy comes up to him with a grin, looking him over appreciatively. “Damn you look good, sweetheart,” he breathes and Buck’s glad to know he’s not unaffected. He cups the side of his face and kisses him soft and sweet, a barely there touch of his tongue against the seam of his mouth.

“Tommy,” he whines when they break apart. “I’m trying to be good.”

“Sorry, I just needed a little taste,” Tommy smiles all devastatingly handsome.

Buck groans, stepping back to put some space between them and takes a few calming breathes. “Mm, okay, I’m gonna go fix this,” he points to his own hair. “And you are gonna open that bottle and pour us a nice glass, yeah?”

“Oh, yes sir,” Tommy leers, eyes darkening, as he grabs the bottle and a knife from the drawer.

It takes all of Buck’s willpower to spin and walk away.

“I hate to see you go, but, god, I love to watch you leave,” Tommy sighs behind him.

He can feel Tommy’s eyes glued to him, before he ascends the stairs. And then, a panicked, “Oh shit!”

“Tommy?” He leans over the railing and finds a spray of red across Tommy’s shirt. He’s holding his left pointer finger which is steadily dripping blood and Buck almost trips flying down the stairs.

“Oh my god, Tommy!” He almost rips the designated first aid drawer in the kitchen from its hinges in his haste to grab gauze and a bandage. He cuts some off and immediately goes to grab Tommy’s hand to examine it. The cut isn’t too long, but it’s pretty deep. “Yeah, this is gonna need stitches,” he grimaces, then wraps the gauze and the bandage with enough pressure to staunch the flow of blood. Tommy’s blood is on both their shirts now, but nothing to be done about that.

“Ok, we’re going to urgent care,” he declares, already pulling Tommy toward the door.

“Evan, the gala- we can just stitch it up here—

“— Nope, we’re going.” He grabs his keys, leaving no room for discussion. Tommy sighs and nods behind him and then, they’re on the way to urgent care. Luckily, there’s one only a couple miles from the loft.

They get a few raised eyebrows and surprised looks from the receptionist. The contrast of the now oxidized blood is stark against the crips white shirts. Buck explains their predicament, fills out a few forms at lightning speed, and they’re quickly led into a room. He holds Tommy’s uninjured hand, rubbing smooth circles into his skin, as the doctor expertly stitches him up. She numbs the area beforehand, of course, but it still makes Buck flinch with every pull and knot. It’s silly, they’ve both suffered much worse on the job, but he can’t help it.

Soon enough, they’re free to go, with a prescription of antibiotics for Tommy and post-care instructions, which both already knew by heart, given their profession. They stop by the passenger door of the jeep and Buck breathes properly for the first time since he heard Tommy shout. He tugs Tommy to him by the elbow and the man instantly sags into him, ducking his head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry we missed our dance.” He mumbles dejectedly.

“You have nothing to apologize for- it was an accident. I was more concerned with saving your finger, thank you very much!”

Tommy huffs a laugh and it vibrates through his deltoid. “It wasn’t that bad.”

“All the same, I much prefer your blood inside your body.”

“Noted.” Tommy smiles and Buck feels it stretch where he’s still pressed against him.

He reluctantly pulls back and looks Tommy over one more time, before they leave. Surprisingly, the damn curl on his forehead is still intact, and despite looking a little pale from the night’s events, he still looks so beautiful, especially in the moonlight, like a sexy vampire.

“Let’s go home.” He opens the door for Tommy to climb in and rounds the front of the car to get in. Once they’re settled, he reaches over to rub along the knuckles of Tommy’s hand. Now that the adrenaline has worn off, he does wonder… “So how exactly did you manage to slice open your finger?”

Tommy fidgets with the bandage on his finger for a few seconds. “Got distracted.”

“Distracted? Of the two of us, I think we can both agree, I’m the accident-prone one.”

“It’s your fault, really,” Tommy accuses with a mock frown.

“Excuse me? How is it possibly my fault?”

“Those long, long, gorgeous legs of yours are a hazard on any god-given day, but in a suit? I look up for one second, because how could I not? And all of a sudden, I’ve missed the bottle and the knife’s sliding down my finger instead.”

Buck throws his head back, shaking with laughter, giddy now that he knows for sure Tommy’s okay.

“You’re laughing. I gravely injure myself and you’re laughing.” Tommy says flatly, but the corners of his mouth curve into an amused smile. “I’m wounded, literally.”

“Sorry, sorry, you’re right. Poor baby, how can I make it up to you?”

Tommy rolls his eyes, but Buck knows he loves it when he’s a brat. “Oh you’re a clever guy, I’m sure you can think of some ideas.” He smirks, eyebrow raised in a challenge.

“You know, I think I have.” Buck licks his lips and watches, with a bemused smile, as Tommy tracks the movement. “How about I show you what these long, long legs can do?” He says with a wink.

Tommy’s gaze darkens and a little shiver snakes down his spine. “Well, what are you waiting for? Floor it, Buckley!”

***

“Want another beer?” Bucks asks Tommy, standing up to grab one for himself. They’re at Bobby and Athena’s new place with the usual suspects, house-warming party in full swing. They’re all dressed up because Athena insisted this was “a grown folks party, so dress like it!” Her and Bobby seemed revived, given everything they had to go through ,and they deserved a nice party.

“Hold that thought,” Tommy tells him. They’ve been making their rounds, mingling with all their friends and family and have just now circled back to each other, not that they ever strayed from each other’s line of sight. They’d look at each other over shoulders and exchange winks and soft smiles. Chim made a gagging motion one of the times he noticed.

At one point, Tommy and Bobby were having what looked like a heartfelt conversation and Buck had caught Tommy looking over at him with the fondest smile. He felt like was seconds away from melting into a pile of goo.

“Sure thing, what’s up?” Tommy looks a little nervous, and normally, Buck would be worried, but he’s really worked on not getting ahead of himself with these sorts of things, letting communication and patience take the lead, instead- at least most of the time.

Tommy clears his throat. “You know when you asked me to be your date to Maddie’s wedding and you said you needed someone to dance with?”

“It does ring a bell.” Buck teases.

“Brat.” Tommy mutters fondly, reaching out to grasp both his hands. Buck can feel the raised ridge of the scar on his finger. “Anyway, what did you say you wanted? When we danced?”

Buck’s eyes soften, as he recalls why he’s been chasing after the dance. “I- I said I wanted to show you off, in front of everyone I love. You and me in nice suits. Music.”

“That’s right.” Tommy nods, dropping one of his hands, and slowly leads them out from their corner of the yard, crossing until they’re stepping into the gorgeous gazebo in the center. It twinkles with strung up lights. Buck feels everyone’s eyes on them, as a hush falls around them. Suddenly, the first few notes of a familiar song thrum through the air.

Wise men say, only fools rush in

It’’s not the Elvis version, he realizes, but the soft, croon-y ballad from that movie about the prince and the First Son he watched with Tommy because his man was nothing if not a hopeless romantic. Buck may have resonated a little with Alex’s character and may have even cried a little. But that’s besides the point.

But I can’t help falling in love with you

“W-what’s this?” He asks, voice shaky with emotion.

“Well,” Tommy starts, curling his hands on Buck’s waist. “We’re wearing nice suits, surrounded by everyone we love, and would you look at that? There’s music playing. So, sweetheart, can I finally, finally have this da—”

Buck surges forward and cuts him off with a press of his lips. Tommy laughs, sound muffled by his mouth. “Yes!” Buck mouths the word against his lips. He wraps his arms around Tommy’s neck and pulls them together so they’re cheeck to cheek.

Like the river flows, surely to the sea

They begin to sway and spin gently, until they’re moving in a circle around the inside of the gazebo.

Buck distinctly hears a chorus of awww’s in the background and lights flash as pictures and videos are taken, but it all falls away, until it’s just him and Tommy—his warmth, his touch, his scent, his love envelope him.

Take my hand, take my whole life too

They may have had a few mishaps and failed attempts along the way, to get to this moment, but if that’s what it took, Buck wouldn’t trade it for the world.

For I can’t help falling in love with you

[ladykailitha]

Batshit Soulmates Part 2

Yay! More soulmates!!!

In this Eddie has nothing but time to think while Steve tries to outrun his problems and runs into new ones.

In Medias Res| Prologue|Pt 1|

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

****

Eddie waited until he heard the sound the maroon BMW fade into the distance before he broke down and sobbed. He wasn’t sure what was worse, the fact that his sheep were involved with whatever the hell happened to Chrissy or the fact that Vecna was real. He couldn’t have imagined finding your soulmate in a worse way then an actual fucking battefield.

Was Eddie surprised his soulmate was a boy? No. He had figured out pretty quick that it was all boys for him. Felt a little bad for Steve through, must have come as shock. Because let’s be fair, Eddie was pretty shocked, too. Of all the dudes in all the world, the universe picked the most diametrically opposed human on the fucking planet.

He didn’t hate Steve or anything. Steve tended to leave the Hellfire Club and its members alone and would stop Tommy and his ilk from harassing them, too. Which made more sense once Eddie had met Dustin, Mike, and Lucas. Those three never shut up about him really. To Dustin he was the old brother he always wanted. To Lucas he was a mentor. To Mike? Hilariously, when Mike was around Dustin and Lucas, he would roll his eyes and sigh dramatically whenever Steve was brought up.

When they weren’t around? Mike talked about the dude in hushed, reverent tones. Mike had an even bigger case of hero worship then the other two put together. But he was also a bitchy teen, so he hid it better then the others.

Eddie had scoffed at their depictions the first time he heard them, but the more they repeated it, the less it began to sound like they were telling tall tales, and more like they actually had a huge amount of respect for Steve. Which really didn’t gel well with the Munson Doctrine.

Jock=bad, rich=bad, popular with girls=bad, added all up together and you get a douche of the highest order. But even though Eddie had threatened to cut his throat Steve had still wanted to help him. Eddie wasn’t sure if their places were reversed that he wouldn’t have thrown Steve off and told him where to stick it. Soulmate or not.

But Steve had stayed. Either the man was a sap or maybe Dustin and them were right about him.

Eddie sighed. Well, he supposed only time would tell which one it was. As much as his inner cynic was screaming that Steve would give up. That he would learn that loving him was too hard and walk away. Leave Eddie to deal with murder charges and monsters. Another part of him was telling him that Steve wouldn’t do that. That Steve never back down from a fight no matter how much a losing battle it was. That loving Eddie was easier than fighting bullies and apparently monsters.

He knew realistically that Steve was a better soulmate then a lot of people got, but seriously whatever immortal asshole up there making the decisions had to have a sick sense of humor. The only things the two of them had in common was their height and their eye color and even that was slightly off. Oh all right, maybe their love three little freshmen dorks.

Protectors. Steve and him were both protectors. They had that too. Eddie could see it his eyes that he was more worried about Eddie would do the rest of them if Eddie actually went through with it. Not that he was going to. He had been trying to. He wanted to so bad. Steve stood in the place of all those people that had hurt Eddie his whole life. His dad. Bullies. Teachers.

Eddie was given an chance to become who they all thought he was. A murderer. He couldn’t tell if it was the look in Steve’s eyes that stayed his hand, or the burning on his arm, or if he just wasn’t built to kill. That he was more like his gentle Uncle Wayne then the violent Al Munson. Maybe it was combination of all three.

The sad (?) thing was, that Eddie could see himself next to Steve’s side. In fact it was too damn easy to imagine. He could feel the rightness of it, even if every other part of him scream at the injustice of it. The King and the Freak. But maybe that wasn’t what the universe saw. Maybe it saw two lonely boys that fit better than it looked on the surface.

After all, wasn’t that what Eddie himself had been preaching for years. That too many people only saw what they wanted to see and not dare to get to know people before making a judgment.

He preferred the easy charm of captain Steve Harrington over the hard nosed oneupmanship of Billy Hargrove and fierce competitiveness of Jason Carver any day. It was only after Steve’s fall from grace that he had even began targeting the basketball team in the first place. Both Billy and Jason would get mad and try and start something with Eddie.

Steve though? Steve would smirk and turn away. Like Eddie was funny and not a freak. And maybe Eddie targeted Steve just to see him smile and smirk. But the only people who knew that was him and Wayne. And he intended to keep it that way.

In fact, Eddie thought straightening up, the more he thought about how Steve actually acted in school the more he realized that Steve was actually a pretty chill dude.

Oh.

Maybe he needed to have a heart to heart with the universe about the Munson doctrine. Because if that was wrong, what else had Eddie gotten wrong?

His stomach growled. He bit his lip nervously and looked up at the house. He wasn’t sure if he could risk going up to the house again, not at night anyway. He was going to have to wait until tomorrow to see if he could at least make something to eat.

Maybe he should have asked them to bring something to do while he hid out. He was starting to get bored out his mind.

There was nothing for it, all Eddie could do right now is sleep and hope his soulmate was the natural caretaker all his sheep said he was.

He carefully rearranged the tarp so that it would be easy to pull back over him once he was in the boat and stepped gingerly into it. He got settled and pulled the tarp back over himself, letting the lapping water against the boat lull him to sleep.

*

Steve would like to say that the nap did him good and that he felt refreshed and ready to take on...what did Dustin and Eddie call him? Vickie? No, that was Robin’s crush. Vacuum? He snorted. Definitely not that. Evil wizard dude. He would like to say he felt refreshed to tackle the wizard dude, but the food he ate made him queasy and it made for a fitful sleep.

He opened his wallet and looked to see how much cash he had on hand. It should be enough to get Eddie some food and drink. Eddie had been fairing well enough, but he could use something a bit more substantial. He took out five bucks for gas and shoved it in his top drawer.

Steve looked at the time and groaned. It was too late to go to sleep, but too early to be awake. He shouldn’t have tried napping that late in the evening but this whole thing with the Upside Down being back, no Hopper, no El and even if they did have her, no powers. They had to rely on him. Well, Nancy mostly.

He would gladly relinquish control over to her, if he was being honest.

Steve pulled up his sleeve and rubbed the soulmark thoughtfully. It still glowed a dark sickening red, almost blood like it’s shade. It seemed to thrum beneath his skin like a melody he couldn’t quite make out. It comforted him. He just hoped it comforted Eddie, too.

He looked out at the dark sky that was hours away from dawn. He got changed into a pair of shirts and a swim team t-shirt. It was going to cold out there, but it wouldn’t matter for long. He changed his socks and pulled on a pair of running shoes.

He grabbed his keys and locked the door behind him. He stretched out on his front lawn in the putrid light of the street lamp. Once he was satisfied that he was warmed up enough not to pull a muscle, he started down the road. At first it was gentle lop, not quite a jog, but soon he was running as hard as he could toward the horizon, chasing a dream that he knew he would never be able to keep.

Steve ran until his lungs burned, his muscles ached, and his cheeks were flushed and sweaty from the exertion. He looked up to find that he had somehow ran all the way to the trail park. It had long since been cleared of police and looked more worn and depressing in their wake. Maybe it was the tragedy that clung to every rock of gravel, every concrete walkway, every panel and tin roof.

“Hey, loser,” Max said from her front step. “Can’t sleep either?”

Steve turned and panted, his hands on his knees as he fought for breath. “Yeah, yeah. What’s got you up before the asscrack of dawn? My excuse is that I’m a barely reformed jock.”

Max opened her mouth to answer but closed it again. She just shook her head. Steve turned to look at the roped off trailer that had been Eddie’s home, before he trotted over to her.

“You know you can talk to me, right?” he asked in hushed tone.

Max nodded. She looked down at her worn out shoes, scuffing the side of her right one on the gravel in front of her. “I hate that you and me only found our soulmates because the Upside Down happened.”

Steve hummed in agreement. “I didn’t even think it would be a boy. Never even crossed my mind. Maybe if it had, I would have realized sooner that it was Eddie.”

The silence stretched on between them as around them the sky began to lighten and the trailer park came to life.

She picked at her nails. “I don’t want anything to happen to him.”

“Lucas?” Steve asked, twisting his neck to try and get a better look at her.

She nodded again, refusing to look him in the eye. “I think bad things just happen around me. Maybe I’m cursed.”

Steve snorted. “This town is cursed. But it’s not good what happened to Chrissy. You know who would be able to figure this all out?”

“Nancy?” Max asked.

Steve ruffled her hair. “Right in one. But first I have a soulmate that needs food and I’ll be damned if I let him starve while on the lam for something he didn’t do.”

Max pushed at him. “Don’t say shit like ‘on the lam’, what are you fifty?”

Steve just shook his head. He got to his feet. “I’m going to go home and shower. Then I’ll pick up yesterday’s rogue gallery and we’ll go shopping. I’ve got enough to cover at least a couple of days worth of food for the guy.”

She nodded. “I am sorry, Steve, that he got dragged into this mess, but isn’t it better that he knows? Because then you don’t have to lie to him?”

He sighed. “Is better that he knows? Sure. But it’s not good.”

Max scoffed. “Nothing in this town ever is.”

Ain’t that the truth, Steve thought bitterly. He just waved his hand at her and started back down the road, back to Loch Nora.

****

Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Epilogue

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @bookworm0690 @vecnuthy @bookbinderbitch @littlewildflowerkitten @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @scheodingers-muppet @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @genderless-spoon @anne-bennett-cosplayer @irregular-child @oxidantdreamboat @mogami13 @samsoble @xandriumbat @ellietheasexylibrarian

[rebelspykatie]

Soulmate AU Part Three 

Part One | Part Two | Part Four | Part Five 

Steve doesn’t see him, bent over the hood of the car, elbow deep and sweat dripping from his forehead despite the cool breeze. He makes a frustrated noise and there’s an ominous clanging sound. Eddie’s never been good at sitting still, at minding his own business, especially when it comes to Steve. He feels pulled towards him, wanting to help, at his breaking point with this tension between them. 

Maybe it’s the universe intervening or maybe Eddie has no self preservation skills when he stops behind Steve and asks, “Need a hand?”

Steve startles so bad he hits his head on the hood and curses. When he turns around, he stops and sucks in a sharp breath. “Eddie.” He looks back at the hood of the car with eyebrows furrowed. “How hard did I hit my head?”

“I can help.” Eddie moves closer and peers into the car.

“With my head?” Steve is rubbing at it now and Eddie’s beginning to wonder if he’s concussed. 

“The car.” 

“Oh.” Steve steps aside, giving him a strange look, and lets Eddie work on it, undoing whatever Steve thought he was fixing and addressing the real problem. Steve’s too quiet. And Eddie’s never been good with silence, either. 

“I’m sorry I ruined your life.” Eddie says, so quiet he’s surprised Steve even heard it. It’s not what he meant to say. It tumbled out of his mouth without a second thought. Something that’s been on his mind since Steve came back to school looking like the thought of Eddie being his soulmate ripped his bright future right out of his hands.

He doesn’t pull himself up to look at Steve. He can’t. Just stays bent over, working on fixing the car, and screaming inside his own head at his stupidity. He can’t even get this first conversation right, no wonder Steve wants nothing to do with him. 

“Ruined my life?” Eddie does finally turn around at Steve’s tone. The way it sounded like a question, like he doesn’t know exactly what Eddie’s referring to. 

“I know my name’s on your wrist. I know it’s probably the last name you wanted there. Fate is a cruel bitch attaching you to me like that. I’m sorry things didn’t work out with Wheeler and that you’ll have to lie to everyone about whose name is there for the rest of your life. You deserve better than that.” 

“You-” Steve rubs the back of his head, blinking slowly, “you think you ruined my life?”

“Not showing up to school for a week was a pretty good indicator that I’m not what you expected,” he shrugs, trying to seem nonchalant even though he’s dying inside.

“Is that why you didn’t talk to me for a year after my name appeared on your wrist?” Steve glances down at the cuff on his arm. “Because you think I deserve better?” 

Eddie nods and Steve scoffs. 

“So you made that decision for both of us? What about what I wanted?”

“You were dating Nancy and we’ve never talked in four years of attending the same school. You’re a jock and I’m just a freak. Why would the golden boy of Hawkins want anything to do with me?” 

“I’m so sick of people thinking that they know what’s best for me!” Steve yells and Eddie jerks back. He’s never seen Steve snap like that. “Every single person in my life thinks they should have a say in who I should be with, but what about me? I waited eighteen years to find out what name was going to appear on my wrist. I didn’t care if it was Nancy, Tommy H, or you, or anyone else. I just wanted to find out who that person was, so I could prove to myself that fate isn’t just a bunch of bullshit like it is with my parents.”

“Steve, I-”

“I just wanted someone to love me.”

There’s a charged silence that hangs in the air, only the sound of Steve’s heavy breathing echoing in the empty parking lot.  

“Is that all you see me as? King Steve?” Steve spits out the moniker with venom. And he sounds mad, but his face is doing this thing that Eddie’s never seen before, eyes glassy and lower lip trembling. He looks ready to come apart at the seams. 

Eddie takes a moment to think about it and he already knows what his answer is. He’s had a whole year to watch Steve, unbeknownst to him. Steve’s never bullied anyone as far as Eddie knows, but it’s more than that, he’s kind and soft in ways that most of the school doesn’t recognize. Eddie’s seen it from the privacy of his trailer as Steve pulls up to take care of the Mayfield girl when her mom’s on a three day bender. Or that time he caught him carting around a whole car full of preteens that dragged him into the arcade like he was their big brother. 

His traitorous little heart has been falling for him this whole time. Quietly picking out all the ways they could fit together, even if Steve never wanted any of this. Eddie had resigned himself to yearning, to imagining a life together that was just out of reach. He doesn’t dare to hope that he’ll have more than that.

“No, you’re more than King Steve.” He nervously fiddles with a strand of hair, pulling it in front of his face. “Or, you’ve never actually been King Steve, I don’t know, man. You’re just so- uh, so wholesome and I’m this.” He waves a greasy hand at his ripped jeans and handmade hellfire shirt. “I was afraid you’d hate me.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever been called wholesome before,” Steve huffs out a laugh, face softening with Eddie’s honesty. “You’re not a freak, Eddie. And I don’t think we’re all that different.” 

“That’s a good one.”

“No really,” Steve takes a step closer and it takes all of Eddie’s willpower not to turn tail and run. “You were right about one thing, the universe is a cruel bitch, but I don’t think that it gets it wrong very often. I was afraid that you’d think I’m boring or annoying, like you always yelled about in the cafeteria. Just another dumb jock. Thought you’d laugh at all my silly, romantic notions. But I do want those things.”

“You want romance…with me?”

They stare at each other for a moment before Steve nods. 

This can’t be happening. He must be having an out of body experience. 

“I’d like to try, at least. It may not always be perfect, or easy, but I want to try if you’re open to the idea.” Steve looks determined, nodding once like he’s made up his mind. “Eddie Munson, can I take you out on a date?”

Part Four

Thank you so much to everyone for the overwhelming support on the first two parts of this. I am truly blown away by it all. I’ve never had anything take off like this and there’s so many of you (hi, thank you for following). There were so many requests for tagging on the last post that there’s no way I could fulfill them all, so I’m so so sorry to anyone that might’ve been expecting that. I decided just to not tag anyone to be fair. 

Hope that this eases your broken little hearts some, and get ready for some extra fun fluffy goodness soon. 

[bibuckkinard]

Family Meeting

@bucktommypositivityweek Day 3-Meeting the friends and family. I kind of twisted it a bit, but I still hope you guys like it. It's another addition to the girl dad's Buck and Tommy and their daughter Alex universe.

bucktommy - Words: 1,055 - Rating: General - Complete

Tommy stares down at the little person in his arms, runs a light finger down her cheek, and marvels at this little person they made with the help of their surrogate.

Evan comes into the room with a bottle and stops, blinking slowly.

“Hey,” Tommy prompts. “You okay?”

Evan shakes his head. “Yeah, I just…you two are so gorgeous,” he says softly. “I had a husband, which wow, okay? And now I have this daughter that I get to raise with said husband. It’s a little…”

“Crazy?” Tommy supplies with a grin and Evan smiles back.

“A little bit,” Evan admits. “But in a good way. If you told 26 year old me that I’d be 35, married and a parent, I would have you committed.”

Tommy laughs just as there’s a knock on the door.

“Oh, they’re here,” Evan says. He hands the bottle to Tommy. “It’s too bad she wouldn’t eat earlier. No one will be able to hold her until she’s finished.”

“It’s okay.” Tommy looks down at her little face sucking on the nipple of the bottle. “They’ll be happy to wait.”

Evan’s grin is soft as he watches them and there’s another knock on the door.

“Right! I’ll go let everyone in,” Evan says. He leans down and kisses Tommy gently, then Alex’s forehead.

They’d decided to wait until they got home with her before introducing her to everyone. The only people who have met her so far are Maddie and Eddie and though they’d felt bad making everyone else wait, they’d wanted to make sure their surrogate, Ashley, was comfortable and Alex was out of the hospital before introducing her to the rest of the 118 family, as well as Lucy Donato, who has been a fixture in helping Tommy feel better about the prospect of raising a girl when his nerves got to be too much.

The first one in the living room is Maddie, who holds her hands to her chest and coos. “Hi little niece,” she says and Tommy grins as she bends down to give the baby a kiss on the cheek. “It’s auntie Maddie. You’re just as gorgeous as you were a few days ago.”

“Isn’t she?” Evan says, trailing behind the rest of the group as they make their way into the living room. Like he always does when the whole group is together, Tommy is glad they bought a bigger house before they got married, if only to fit everyone inside it.

“She’s really beautiful,” Lucy says, coming and wrapping her arm around Tommy’s shoulders, squeezing him in a gentle side hug.

“My goodness,” Bobby says, holding Athena’s hand. “You guys are very lucky. I’m proud of you.”

Tommy looks at Evan, who looks like he might cry.

“Thank you, Bobby,” Evan says and glances at the bottle Alex is still working on. “She’s almost done eating. Does anyone want to burp her?”

“I will!” Hen and Karen both say at the same time. Everyone laughs and Hen and Karen do a quick round of rock, paper, scissors, with Hen winning.

“Yes!” she cheers and Karen nudges her with an elbow good-naturedly.

“Have you guys gotten much sleep?” Chimney asks knowingly and Tommy snorts.

“What do you think?”

Chimney grins. “Sounds right for a Buckley-Kinard baby.”

“I know right?” Evan says. They’d done a mix of both of their sperm for the surrogacy so they don’t know for sure who the biological father is, not that either of them cares. That was the whole point anyway, though Tommy can’t help but think he sees Evan in her, around the eyes. He wonders if Evan thinks the same.

Alex finishes her bottle and Tommy kisses her head and passes her off to Hen, giving her a little burp cloth to put over her shoulder.

“Oh hello, sweet girl,” Hen coos as she begins burping her. Karen runs her fingers over the sparse hair on Alex’s head and smiles when she lets out a little burp.

“Ah, burping should not be so cute,” she says with a laugh.

“Everything about her is cute,” Evan says dreamily.

“Even two am diaper changes?” Eddie asks, amused.

“Yes, even those,” Evan insists and Tommy grins at him. As Alex finishes her burping, she’s gently passed around their family, and Evan settles next to Tommy on the couch, a hand on Tommy’s thigh. They listen to everyone coo over her and Tommy looks at his husband, marvels at this man he’s still building a life with over and over again.

Evan notices him staring and looks at him, eyes glinting with amusement and affection. “What?”

“I just really love you, Evan Kinard. Thank you for doing this with me,” he answers. He cups his face and kisses him softly and no one notices the PDA because everyone is still enamored with Alex, as they should be honestly.

“I love you too,” Evan says. “Thank you. I still can’t believe it’s real.”

“Me neither,” Tommy admits. “Want to spend the rest of our lives staring at how real it is in the face?”

Evan’s grin is incandescent. “Oh yeah. Everything with you, you know that."

Tommy does know that. He's about to kiss his husband again when a familiar cry rings out and Evan gets up to take her from Lucy.

"I didn't do it!" Lucy says, a little panicked, and Tommy can't help but laugh at his normally calm, capable friend being afraid of a tiny baby.

"She's a newborn," Maddie says knowingly. "It happens."

Tommy watches Evan cradle their little girl in his arms, swaying back and forth and cooing at her.

Eddie plops down beside him on the couch. "Your face looks ridiculous right now."

Tommy snorts. "I'm sure it does. Can you blame me?"

"Not at all." Eddie looks toward Evan and Alex, the latter having calmed down to gentle baby noises.

"All right, Buck," Eddie says, standing up again. "My turn. Hand her over."

Evan does, and then he turns to the group. "Hey, Tommy and I want to thank you for everything. You guys have kept us sane during this whole process and we really appreciate it."

"Of course, Buck," Bobby says. "We're all here when you need us."

Evan smiles, walks over, and takes the hand Tommy's holding out for him. "We know."

[punkshort]

Three Days

Summary: Joel gets hurt on patrol and it turns your world upside down. (Part one of two)

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!reader, established relationship, set in the TWWW universe, no use of Y/N.

Warnings: angst, some descriptions of blood/injuries, language, hurt/comfort, talk of food and lack of eating (not a disorder), my make believe medical knowledge, no smut in this one sorry

Word Count: 5.3K

Part One

June 2006

It started out like any other day. Joel walked you to the greenhouse in the morning, giving you a quick kiss before continuing on towards the stables, where he would meet Tommy and they would run their patrol route. The past couple of weeks, he and Tommy had taken a more challenging route due to an uptick in infected. The warm weather seemed to bring them out of hibernation, and the two brothers were the most skilled in Jackson at bringing them down. It never really worried you. You watched Joel take down countless infected for almost a year during your travels.

Your only complaint was by the time he returned home, he was so exhausted he hardly stayed up past dinner time, the physical toll of his days catching up with him. Some nights, he fell asleep with his head on your lap while you read and mindlessly raked your nails across his scalp. Those nights were your favorite. You loved secretly examining his relaxed features while he slept, noticing lately his beard had a lot more grey in it from just a couple years ago. Somehow, it made him look even more attractive.

You made your way home that day alone, like usual, walking up the steps to the porch on your shared house, the porch he built for you with his bare hands because one time you offhandedly said you always wanted a wraparound porch. For extra points, he even built in a swing at the end, a place you frequently enjoyed sipping your morning coffee as you watched the town slowly wake up from its slumber. You found yourself on that very swing that evening. After having eaten some leftovers from the night before, you thought the weather was too nice to stay inside, so you brought your book out on the porch to read until either Joel came home, or the sun got too low to see the words on the page.

You were taking the last sip of your tea and considering going inside soon when you first heard the yelling. You frowned, wondering if you misheard it, if maybe some children were just playing in someone's backyard. But then you heard more yelling, the tone of the voices sending a jolt down your spine. Setting your mug down on the railing, you stood from the swing and took a couple steps down, craning your neck to try to see down the street. A few others had heard it too, familiar faces sticking their heads outside and chatting with neighbors, speculating as to the nature of the yelling.

Fearing the worse, you pushed your front door open and snatched your handgun from the top of the coat closet, checking to make sure it was loaded and the safety was on before shoving it in the back of your pants and heading back outside.

You jogged lightly down the street, stopping when you saw a neighbor and asked if they knew what was going on. When you were greeted with a shrug, you continued toward the center of town, the yelling muffled now. When you rounded the corner, you saw a group dispersing slowly outside of the infirmary, people shaking their heads and talking softly. One man was alone, leaning against the side of the building with his head hung low and his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. You recognized him right away.

"Jesse!" you shouted, and he looked up, his face immediately going slack when he saw you. You were a couple feet away when your brain first registered the blood on his shirt, and you froze, your mind three steps behind your body.

"Who?" was all you could manage to say, your eyes already brimming with tears. Jesse was out of his element. He had no idea what to say, he himself had hardly processed what happened, and Tommy had just said he didn't want anyone contacting you until they had the bleeding under control. But when he faltered, when he refused to meet your eye, your fear quickly turned to rage.

Stomping up to him, you pushed him up against the building by the collar, your jaw clenched and eyes wild.

"Who?!" you demanded again. His hands came up to cover your own in a comforting manner, and that's what really sent you over the edge. Why would he be comforting you? Why can't he just spit it out?

"I'm sorry. T-there was an accident, Tommy said-"

"I don't give a fuck what Tommy said!" you yelled. You yanked your hands away from him and stormed up the steps to the infirmary, whipping the door open as Jesse pleaded with you to wait.

The room was empty when you walked in, but you could tell all of the people in the building were piled into one room in the back, an operating room. You walked down the hallway, feeling like your feet were in quicksand. At this point, you were sure something happened to Joel, and you were minutes away from finding out just how bad it was. Was he bit? Was he shot? This would be the last time you wouldn't be burdened with the reality of what was to come, and your body wanted to soak up every second, but your mind needed answers, so you pushed forward, rounding the corner just as Tommy left the operating room, hands covered in blood.

You stopped dead in your tracks, your heart hammering in your chest at the realization that he was covered in his brother's blood. The blood of the man you loved and cherished more than anything in the world. The man who carried you through disaster after disaster, always the steady rock you could lean on.

Tommy sighed and lifted his head up, freezing when he saw you just a few feet away, taking him in. Your jaw was clenched, eyes watering as you stared at each other, waiting.

"Hey, darlin'," Tommy said, trying to force a smile, but failing. His eyes were filled with pity as he looked at you, and it made your stomach roll.

"What happened," you said. Not a question, but a demand. You weren't giving him an option to an answer.

"There was an accident," he began, looking around for a towel and snatching one off a cart outside the operating room, from which you heard urgent commands from Bill, the doctor, to Carrie, his protege, as they no doubt were fighting to save Joel's life.

"Okay," you said, trying to remain calm. "Was he bit?"

Tommy shook his head right away, and relief temporarily flooded your veins.

"We were checkin' out this old barn with Jesse. Seein' if there was anythin' worth bringin' back. Jesse was in the loft, wanted help movin' this heavy chest so he could get at some tools. Fuckin' thing weighed a ton. Took all of us to move it," Tommy paused in his story, his eyes flicking around the hallway. You tried to be nice, but you were running out of patience.

"Spit it out, Tommy," you demanded angrily. He took a deep breath before he continued.

"Floor gave out from under him. Place was ancient, we shoulda known. Fell at least 18 feet to the ground, lucky there was a bit of straw down but the chest..." he trailed off again, but when you clenched your fists at your side, he forced himself to say it.

"The chest landed on Joel, darlin'. It was so fuckin' heavy, and he fell so far. Doc is doin' everything he can." You could see the fear in Tommy's eyes now, the remorse, the guilt.

"Is he going to live?" you asked him quietly, your body stiff.

"I-I don't know, Doc didn't say, but he lost a lot of blood."

"Then he can have mine," you said, shrugging off the sweater you had on and heading to the door. Tommy reached out to grab your arm and you spun around.

"Doc can't take your blood right now, you know that. Besides, you don't even know if you're a match," Tommy said, trying to reason with you.

"I'm O negative, universal donor," you told him, yanking your arm away. "I have to tell Bill, someone go get Holly, she can take my blood."

Tommy's eyes flashed with hope for just a moment before once again stopping you from barging into the operating room.

"Alright, Holly's already on her way to help, anyway. Let's wait for her together in the waiting room."

"I need to see him, Tommy," you said, your voice cracking now. He sighed.

"You can't. Not right now. Let Doc work, I won't make you leave but you can't go in there, okay?" Tommy offered gently, his fingers gripping your elbow in an effort to turn you around. You paused, your head swiveling back and forth between him and the door.

"I'll wait right here," you decided, going into an exam room to drag out a metal chair and plopped down in it, arms crossed as you stared at the closed door in front of you.

You sat in that chair and waited for hours. Maria arrived with Holly, who began taking your blood, all the while encouraging you to eat and drink. Maria found a chair of her own and parked herself next to you, holding your other hand as your tired eyes stared holes into the door.

"I'm gonna take these to Bill, keep drinking water and eating as much as you can. I don't know how much he'll need," Holly said softly. You looked up at her and forced a pained smile as she slipped into the room, quickly shutting the door behind her so you couldn't see in. You weakly lifted a bottle of water to your lips, taking a small sip before giving up and setting it down. Your stomach was in knots, making eating and drinking nearly impossible, but you were trying to follow orders so your body could give Joel what he needed to live.

"He's going to be okay," Maria said beside you, squeezing your hand.

"You don't know that," you said numbly, your eyes still glued to the door.

"He's strong, and he's a fighter. That I do know. And he's stubborn as shit, he's not going anywhere," Maria told you firmly. The corner of Tommy's mouth twitched from his post a few feet away where he was waiting to run and get anything anyone needed, desperate to feel useful.

Holly emerged from the operating room. You craned your neck, trying to see past her, but all you saw was a sheet drawn between the door and the table. You sighed and leaned back, your eyes meeting Holly's.

"I don't know, hun, Bill didn't say anything," she said apologetically before you could ask. "But he's using your blood right now, so that's good. He wouldn't waste it if there wasn't a chance," she said, leaning down in front of you. You nodded and took a shaky breath.

"Try to get some sleep, okay?" Holly urged, but you just shook your head.

"You know I can't," you told her, and she sighed.

"I know. But you need to take care of yourself if he needs more of your blood. Having you passed out in the corner from dehydration or exhaustion isn't going to help Joel," she told you firmly before she gathered up her supplies to change and clean up.

Another hour went by as you sat at your post, refusing to leave, refusing to sleep until you got an update. Maria and Tommy were sound asleep, curled up on the bed in the room behind you as you sat vigil. Your eyes burned, your shoulders ached, your hips and back screamed from sitting on the uncomfortable chair for so many hours, but you continued to wait. And wait. And wait.

When the door finally swung open and Bill walked out, you leapt to your feet so fast your legs almost gave out. Bill looked exhausted, dried sweat covered his face and there were small, red ovals on either side of his nose where his glasses rested all evening.

"He's stable," he told you, and a loud woosh of air slipped past your lips. You took a deep breath and nodded for him to continue.

"He's got several breaks in his leg, couple broken ribs and a cracked pelvis. There was a lot of internal bleeding, but I think we got it under control. Now, he hit the back of his head pretty hard when he fell. I won't know the full extent of his injury until he wakes up," he told you tiredly.

"But he will wake up, right?" you asked as Maria and Tommy appeared in the doorway, having heard most of the conversation.

"It's up to him now," Bill told you. He's strong, he's a fighter. "Carrie's cleaning up and she's going to wheel him to room six. I know there's no use in telling you to go home, I'll bring in a cot for you," the doctor said, turning to head down the hall towards his office.

"That's good news!" Maria said, rubbing your shoulder gently. You turned and offered her a weak smile.

"I'll bring you some clothes and things from your house," Maria offered, and you thanked her as she made her way to the front of the office.

"Lemme go see if Carrie needs help movin' the bed," Tommy said, pushing the door open. You peered inside after him, first taking in all of the bloodied towels and gauze, the instruments strewn on tables painted red. Tommy slid the curtain to the side and you finally saw him.

He looked peaceful, asleep under the blankets, his chest bare from what you could see. His leg must have been in a full cast under the covers, one side looking drastically taller than the other. He had an IV hooked up next to him that Tommy pushed alongside the bed, one of clear fluids, the other your blood.

Carrie shot you a tired smile as she pushed Joel's bed through the doorway and down the hall to room six, Tommy following dutifully behind with the IV stand. Once he was all set up in his new room, Carrie turned to say something to you, but you cut her off with a tight hug, burying your face in her shoulder. She squeezed you around the ribs and patted your back as you tried to convey your appreciation through the embrace.

"It'll be alright," she told you hoarsely. You nodded, pulling back to meet her gaze, bloodshot eyes locking onto equally bloodshot eyes.

"Thank you," was all you could manage, the words not seeming like enough, but no others really did, either. She smiled and headed back to the operating room to clean up. Bill entered the room shortly after with a cot that he leaned up against the wall for you.

"Extra blankets and pillows are in the linen closet just down the hall," he said. "I'll sleep in my office, check in every couple hours. Anything happens, I'm two doors down." He turned and left you and Tommy alone with Joel.

"First night'll be the hardest," Tommy warned you, and you nodded, eyes stuck on Joel's face. You pulled the extra chair in the room over to the side of the bed, noting this one at least had cushions on the seat and back, and plopped down. You reached out to hold his hand as you watched his chest rise up and down. Each breath he took giving you a small sliver of hope.

"You oughta get some sleep while you can," Tommy suggested as Maria came back with a duffel bag of clothes and toiletries. You shook your head.

"I'm good," you said, squaring your shoulders and rubbing your thumb over the top of Joel's knuckles.

"Both of you, stubborn as mules," Tommy said with a chuckle. "We'll be back first thing. You need anythin', you let us know."

"Thank you. The both of you," you said, trying to give them a small smile as they turned to leave. You sighed, finally alone, and looked back at Joel.

"Don't you fucking leave me," you whispered to him before you laid your head down on the bed next to his good leg, your hand still entwined with his.

You sipped water dutifully from a straw as Holly loosened the elastic around your arm. You gave a stress ball a few squeezes as your blood flowed through the lines and into the empty bag. Handing the cup back to Holly, you turned your attention back to Bill as he checked Joel's blood pressure.

"Still low," he told you, wrapping the stethoscope around his neck. "But better than a couple hours ago. We'll keep up the transfusions and check again in two hours. And eat something, will you? If it helps, think of it as making more blood for him."

"I'll eat, I promise," you told him, holding up a granola bar. He gave you a blank stare.

"More than that, please," he said before turning and heading back out the door. Holly nudged a sandwich wrapped in wax paper across the bed.

"I know it's hard, but you need to," she told you gently, and you nodded, reaching out to unwrap the paper. You took a gentle bite and forced yourself to chew for Holly's benefit. It felt like your body had shut down, the mere thought of food or water making you sick, the stress no doubt to blame. But you forced yourself to slowly eat the whole sandwich, hoping that would buy you some time before having to eat again.

Once Holly bandaged your arm and connected the new bag of blood to Joel's IV, you found yourself once again alone. Your eyes were burning as you stared at Joel, watching his chest slowly rise and fall under the blanket. Your shoulders were tight, feet ached, and your back was practically screaming from the shitty chair, but you couldn't leave his side. When he woke up, you needed to be right there, not on the floor on some old cot.

The rest of the night went slow. You drifted asleep for maybe twenty minutes at a time, only to find yourself jerking awake with your head resting on the bed next to him and your fingers almost falling out of his palm when your muscles relaxed from exhaustion. Each time you awoke, your eyes immediately pinned to his bare chest to confirm he was still breathing, and then up to his eyes, hoping that maybe, just maybe, they would be open.

Maria came by with Tommy in the morning to check on Joel and let you know she was going to cover your shift at work.

"Thank you so much," you told her tiredly while you flexed your stiff, heavily bandaged arm.

"I brought you some fruit and oatmeal," she said, leaving the items on the small counter in the exam room.

"I just had a sandwich last night," you told her proudly.

"And time has passed. Most humans eat again when that happens," she told you sternly. You nodded and held your hand out for the apple, finally pulling a smile from her face.

"Alright, I'm going to head out, I'll be back in the evening. Anything I need to know?" Maria asked.

"All my notes are in the notebook in the office. I think the tomatoes need to be picked soon, and can you roll the empty rain barrels outside in case the weather turns?"

She nodded, assuring you she would handle things, leaving you and Tommy alone with Joel.

"Why don't you take a break, darlin'. Go home, shower, get some rest. I'll come runnin' if anythin' happens," Tommy said, but you shook your head.

"I can shower here. I'm not going anywhere... but thanks," you said, fixing your eyes back on Joel and wondering when Bill was coming to check on him.

Tommy regarded you for a few minutes as you settled back into the chair next to his bed, your hand finding Joel's next to his side.

"You holdin' up alright?" Tommy asked. You shrugged, your eyes still on Joel.

"Guess so," you said, then after a moment, continued. "I just wish he'd wake up. I need him to wake up, Tommy."

Tommy sniffed and looked down at the floor when your voice cracked at the end of your sentence, trying to hide his reaction to your emotions bubbling below the surface. He dragged his eyes up and looked at your arm.

"What's that?"

You looked down at the port sticking out of your arm.

"Holly inserted it this morning. Said instead of ruining all my veins she will just keep hooking up to this one when they need more blood," you explained, glancing back at your other arm which was already heavily bandaged from the night before.

"It's a miracle your blood matched," Tommy said. "I mean, I don't even know my own blood type. Got it written down somewhere in my wallet."

"My parents made a big deal out of it when I was little. It's not a super common blood type," you told him.

He hummed in acknowledgement, and you fell into a comfortable silence, both lost in your own thoughts.

"He ever tell you 'bout the time he climbed that tree when we were younger?" Tommy asked, breaking the silence. You perked up a bit and looked at him, shaking your head.

"Think he was maybe like 11, or 12? All the kids in our neighborhood tried to climb this huge oak tree down the street. I'm talkin' huge, mind you. Like, if that fucker fell, it woulda taken out two houses, easy," he began with a smile on his face.

"Anyway. We all tried to climb it as high as we could, all of us tryin' to go higher than this one kid, Joey. Joey was such a dick, he was older than everyone, a know-it-all. Nobody could stand 'em. Burned us all up that Joey got to the highest branch. Then one day, Joel must've had enough of Joey's shit talk because he stormed off to that goddamn tree and climbed up it so fast, if I weren't there, I wouldn't've believed it."

You didn't realize you had been smiling as Tommy told his story, imagining a younger version of Joel being just as stubborn as ever.

"So, he shot up that tree, past Joey's famous fuckin' branch, and made it like, three more branches or so above before he turned around and made his way back down. I'll never forget it," Tommy said with a chuckle. "He walked right past Joey and goes 'when you make it up that high, then you can talk your shit again. 'Til then, shut the fuck up.'" Tommy finished, the two of you laughing til tears trickled down your cheeks.

"Point bein'," Tommy said after you both caught your breath, "he's a stubborn son of a bitch. And when it counts, he's always done what needs gettin' done. He's gonna wake up, darlin'. I know, because he never lets anyone or anythin' get the best of him."

You did your best to keep your tears from falling, letting your gaze fall back on Joel so Tommy wouldn't see.

"Besides, he loves you more than anythin'. He ain't gonna leave you," Tommy added softly, and you covered your mouth lightly with your palm to hide your trembling lip.

"Thanks, Tommy," you whispered, flicking away a stray tear that managed to fall.

"Don't mention it," he said before standing up with a grunt. "Gotta go to work. You need anythin'?"

You shook your head and gave him a small smile as he left. You sighed, looking back at Joel and squeezing his hand, hoping he could feel you next to him and want to open his eyes.

The next two days were spent the same. There was some improvement. Joel's blood pressure was close to normal, and Bill determined the internal bleeding slowed or stopped because your blood wasn't needed as much anymore, but Holly kept the port in your arm, just in case.

"Why won't he wake up, if he's improving?" you asked Bill on the third day since the accident.

"Could be a number of things," he said, looping his stethoscope around his neck. He leaned forward to inject a pain killer into Joel's IV before straightening up to address you.

"Could be his head injury. Could be the meds, they are strong and make you sleepy. But it's most likely just his body needing time to rest and heal. His body knows what it needs, and if it needs to shut everything down to recover, then that's what it does. Everyone heals differently, it's impossible to guess how long he'll be out."

You nodded sadly and looked down at Joel, rubbing your thumb along his dry knuckles.

"Can we do anything to help him wake up?" you asked hopefully.

"There's a lot of evidence that suggests patients can hear us when they're asleep. Could help if he heard your voice," Bill suggested. "I'll be right down the hall, holler if anything happens. And try to get some sleep, will ya? That cot hasn't moved since I brought it in here."

You nodded and Bill left the room, the both of you knowing full well you weren't touching that cot. You turned to stare at Joel, wondering what you could talk about.

"Hey," you said softly, leaning closer to him. "It's me." You paused a moment, feeling embarrassed, but continued.

"Bill said you might be able to hear me, so I figured it's worth a shot. Maybe if I annoy you enough, you'll wake up, tell me to knock it off, that you're trying to sleep," you joked, and then sighed. "I'd kill to hear that right now."

"Tommy told me a funny story the other day, from when you were kids. About some jerk named Joey and a tree. It made us laugh so much, sounds like you hardly changed a bit," you said with a chuckle. You paused again to watch his face for any reaction, but none came.

"It made me think, though. You never really told me much about your childhood. Then again, I guess I didn't, either," you said, chewing on your lower lip. "Kind of hard to talk about that stuff when you're fighting for your life, I suppose." You sighed and dropped your chin to rest on your fist as you leaned against his bed, your thumb still absentmindedly rubbing his knuckles. Then an idea hit you. You never told him about your childhood, but you could now.

So, you did. You told him every memory that popped into your head. For over an hour, you told him how you found your dad putting presents under the tree when you were seven and never told your parents you knew the truth about Santa. You told the story about how you broke your arm and wasted an entire summer in a cast in high school. You confessed to him your first celebrity crush, the first time you snuck away from home, the first time you drank alcohol. You told him about your high school sweetheart dumping you right after graduation. You talked so long that your mouth was dry, so you stood to drink from the bottle of water left by the sink. You drank more than you had in the past few days combined, making you finally feel like yourself again.

"Can't believe that asshole dumped you like that," you heard a hoarse whisper say behind you.

You whipped around, eyes wide, to look at Joel. His eyelids were half open, looking at you with a weak smile.

"Hey, sweetheart," he said, his voice raspy.

You blinked rapidly, wondering if the sleep deprivation was making you hallucinate. When you finally realized he was actually awake, your face crumpled and you burst into tears, falling to your knees next to his bed as you tried to hold onto his hand, but you kept having to pull back and wipe the tears from your eyes.

"Hey, it's alright," he whispered as he weakly tried to reach a hand out to stroke your hair. "Don't cry."

You pulled yourself together for just a moment, sliding back onto your chair so you could look at him. Gripping his hand, you examined his face, taking in his pale skin, chapped lips and tired eyes.

"I gotta get Bill," you said, but he stopped you.

"In a minute," he told you, and you nodded. "C'mere."

You stood to lean over him as he gently slid his hand along your face, cupping your cheek.

"Are you in any pain?" you asked him, and he shook his head.

"Not anymore," he replied, gazing up at you and lightly curling his fingers around the back of your neck so you would bring your face down. You slotted your lips gently against his before you left a trail of kisses across his cheek and over his forehead, stopping at the center and leaning back.

"I love you," you whispered, tugging on his beard gently.

"I love you, too," he whispered back, and you smiled right before the door swung open.

"When did he wake?" Bill asked urgently, nudging you to the side so he could take Joel's vitals.

"Just a couple minutes ago, I was just about to come get you," you said, but he was already shining a light into Joel's eyes and asking him questions to test him for any brain damage. You leaned against the wall, the past three days finally catching up with you, but you kept yourself up and watched Bill examine Joel. Relief fully came to you when Bill finally allowed himself a smile and a gently clapped on Joel's shoulder.

"You got a long recovery ahead of you, but I think you're gonna be alright," Bill told him after giving him another dose of painkiller. On his way out the door, he reminded you to come get him as soon as possible if anything came up. When the door shut, you smiled wide at Joel and quickly made your way back to his side, picking his hand up.

"I'm sure you're about to have the whole town visiting once Bill tells Carrie you're up," you joked, and he nodded, then frowned.

"What happened to your arms?"

"Oh," you said, looking down at the bandage on one and the port in the other. "You needed blood, so..." you trailed off and lifted your arm with the port up briefly before dropping it in your lap.

"You gave me your blood?" he asked you softly, almost sounding shocked.

"Of course I did," you told him. "I'd give you whatever you need."

He looked at you in awe, feeling undeserving and overwhelmed with gratitude. He quickly blinked away the tears in his eyes so you wouldn't see, and he cleared his throat.

"Thank you," he rasped, still feeling weak and fighting the urge to fall back asleep as the painkillers kicked in.

"You're welcome," you said, bringing his hand up to your face and pressing your lips against his knuckles, then turning his palm to the ceiling so you could plant a kiss on the inside of his wrist. He watched you languidly from the bed, his eyes sliding shut.

"I wanna go home," he mumbled sleepily.

"I know. Soon," you said. "Get some rest, I'll be right here if you need anything," you told him quietly, and he nodded, giving your hand a final squeeze before he fell asleep.

Part Two

Tag List: @chiogarza, @sparklejumpropequeen-777, @shotgun-shelby @partyofone3413 @nana90azevedo @ninaminaromina

[nqueso-emergency]

Firstly, I want to offer my sincerest condolences on the loss of your mother. It's a cruel fate that so many have to experience way too soon.

But for the purpose of this ask: I saw the ask about BT shippers being 40 year old bi women fetishizers and the way it made me laugh. Let's talk about what it's like for people, especially women, interacting with the toxic Buddies once they hit, like, 25. They get called old hags, fetishizers, their looks get made fun of, god fucking forbid they find out you have kids. But the thing they always seem to forget is that this weewoo show is about people (who are now) in their 30s to 50s. What do these people think that (at lease one of) the target demographics for this show are? You know what I haven't seen (at least yet) RPF of OS and LFJ.

And I also saw the anon post about vile comments that may or may not have been made by BTs about RG and his mental health. If BTs said that everybody needs to call them out. I haven't seen anything like that, nor have I seen screenshots from them showing proof of this. If anyone on either "side" does that, they need to have their internet taken away from them.

But what I have seen is a post from a Buddie saying that a "femme twink bottom" would offended Tommy because he's a "toxic masc gay" like "most masc gay men". But yeah, BTs are the toxic fetishizers. They have called not only Tommy, but Lou, the f slur multiple times (more so Tommy, but still). I have seen posts that said "LFJ that's why your father never loved you" and then proceeded to be even more horrible. They mock his build and looks relentlessly, but yeah, they're totally normal about a show. Lest we forget the most vile thing at least one of them has done yet... the fics.

This stuff isn't even hard to prove, all you have to do is go into the "anti bucktommy" tag and its full of this shit.

And just for fucking shits and giggles let's talk about their favorite thing to say: LFJ getting fired because of his cameos or because they decided it would be funny to hack his twitter and post a stupid kpop meme/ss (like what the actual fuck is wrong with whoever did that fucking shit?) - fuck if i know. None of these people know how anything works. Do they realize the kind of people that some of these actors are? Did we miss the Nickelodeon docuseries? Do we really think that ABC is going to give a flying fuck about that shit when they have a lot worse associated with them in some way shape or form, maybe within actors in the same universe?! Also fired for cameos? He has a contract, he knows what he's allowed to say and what he isn't allowed to say. Some of these fucks wouldn't know common sense if it beat them with a stick.

You don't have to answer this, it just really annoyed me reading these things and wanted to give some dialogue.

Anon, you ate the fuck out of this ask.

[lemotmo]

Hey I found that one BT blog and this answer is even better. The question they got was basically why don't Buddie shippers remember that the original plan for Eddie was Maddie, and why don't we understand that's proof Buddie has never been the plan. They also went on a rant about the date scene from the finale. The ask also mentioned being blocked by Ryan and Oliver and threw in some Ryan/Oliver hate so just a heads up!

A. Hi anon! Okay you're correct, and I believe it was Jennifer herself (I could be wrong) that let us know the original plan was Eddie/Maddie but she lobbied hard for Chimney (go Jen!) and it means absolutely nothing. I hope that doesn't sound mean but it has no bearing whatsoever on anything at all. Nothing. Buddie doesn't have to have always been the plan to go canon. It can go that way if the natural trajectory of the story and characters lead things that way. And right now that looks like where it's going. I could be wrong, but it feels like that's what's coming. I mean Eddie and Maddie aren't even friends at this point, lol. I can't remember the last time they even had a scene together. I know both Ryan and Jennifer said they wanted more Eddie/Maddie interaction, which might mean they know they're going to have scenes together in the coming season. I hope they do, it's weird that they haven't interacted more. And none of that has anything at all to do with Tommy. I'm not at all sure what you mean by that? There is no Tommy connection running through the history of this show. That is not a thing. Yes he has history on the show but not to every character on this show. And certainly not to the degree you're trying to imply.

I have zero idea why people are choosing the finale date scene as their Tommy hill to die on. It was a terrible scene. It was wildly out of place in the context of that episode, and people should be willing to admit that. It was unequivocally and universally panned. The journalists who review and cover the show, the general audience, no one understood or liked that scene. The fact that Tim had to come out and flat out tell us it was supposed to be flirting is embarrassing. And tells you everything you need to know about how hard of a dud that scene was. We have all seen Buck flirt. And that wasn't even close. And it felt entirely out of character for Buck in every possible way. A lot of it can be pinned to K, who is a terrible writer in general, but, in my opinion, has never known how to actually write Buck. I also think Oliver wasn't trying to make it flirty, which maybe if he had tried it would have helped some but he clearly wasn't going for flirty. The episode as a whole was abysmal and that scene was no different. There is no need to pretend otherwise.

Now I'm going to lecture. I haven't seen a single Buddie shipper excuse Ryan's past comment. Not a single one, I'm sure someone somewhere has, but I haven't seen it. What I have seen is plenty of excuses offered for Lou's problematic history. What Ryan said was wrong, flat out inexcusably wrong. And guess what? He owned it. Publicly. He made a public apology and clearly worded himself. You can tell between then and now he's grown as a person. You only need to look at his relationship with Aisha to know that. We don't tear down or try to erase someone's personal growth to excuse the behavior of someone else. That's not how life works. You don't get to diminish Ryan's growth and personal journey to make you feel better about Lou's twitter history. Lou could have addressed things, and he chose not to. Actually he chose to go radio silent. Whether that turns out to be work related or not remains to be seen. I'm sorry you're upset that you've been blocked by Ryan, but if you sent him what you sent me in this ask, I can see why he blocked you. I also don't think it should be surprising that Oliver also blocked you. I don't think they're sitting around talking about Tommy fans like you're saying, but it wouldn't at all surprise me if they're sharing certain things they're being sent. They're friends. They're going to talk. They're allowed to be friends. You're not the first person who's mentioned being blocked by both of them. They are both huge mental health advocates and them blocking nasty comments should surprise no one. It is surprising, and incredibly disappointing, to kind of see how many people they appear to have had to block though. Look the bottom line is the story has already been decided. Whatever the direction is won't be altered by being assholes to the cast. And if we did have any kind of power to change things, which we don't, being openly hostile toward, and an asshole to, the main cast, would accomplish the opposite of what you want.

Imagine what this anon had to have sent to Ryan. I don't want to know. Also, imagine choosing the date scene as your favorite scene 🤣. Good on the answer though, it was I'm sure, humiliating to have to publicly explain that scene.

Wow. Thank you Nonny. :)

I have to admit, the eloquent way this person explains everything is incredible. They say all the things I've thought about, but might not have voiced so clearly in my previous posts.

So, I'm just going to leave this here for everyone to read. I encourage you all to take a look at it. It's highly interesting.

And again, please no hate on this post. I'm not posting this to mock anyone or to generate more hate.

I'm merely posting this because this is clearly written by a BT fan who has not been lead on by Lou's headcanons in his cameos. This person sees the show for what it. They see the way the story is unfolding and respectfully speaks their mind about it without any insults towards anyone else in the 911 fandom. I can appreciate that from anyone, no matter what they ship.

[wonwoosthetic]

Finding something to fight for update coming back anytime soon…? Love this story 💜

a/n: i looooove writing for this series so so so much, thank you for enjoying it so far!! Here I have part 2 of how the reader and Joel met! Yes, there’s not much romance going on (just yet! the next part will be about their first few dates) but a lot have asked for a part 2 and since Joel is a single father who was left by his wife, I can imagine love for a random woman wouldn’t come easy to him ˙ᵕ˙ I still hope you and everyone reading this will enjoy and stay tuned for future chapters! Thank you for reading and thank you for sticking around to see more of their story unfold!🫶🏼

Btw: I changed the name of the series, I hope people won’t be too confused! <3

You’re Lonely. I Can Fix That. Pt. 2

pairing – Joel Miller x female!reader; Tommy Miller x female!reader (platonic!)

word count – 16.2k (don’t even get me started, this is starting to feel like a slow-burn😭)

warnings – fighting, tiniest bit of cursing, bad writing of southern accents (somebody pls teach me)

synopsis – part 2 of this request; slowly but we’re getting there ˙ᵕ˙ the reader and Joel are getting closer🤭

series masterlist

1999

You did, in fact, not find a way to contact him. At least none that wouldn't require you to jump over your shadow and contact Tommy Miller first.

Every afternoon you had to spend in your parents' restaurant mostly consisted of you standing by the counter, and your head shooting up at the sound of the door opening. None of those times had it been either one of the Miller brothers - but each time you had hoped it would be. Praying and pleading that the universe had some last specks of luck left for you. But it seemed like destiny was not on your side at that time. Or maybe it was. How could you possibly know if he was as good as he pretended to be? Maybe the kindness Joel had shown you was just his way of holding up a normal conversation with no ulterior motives after all. Asking you about your future plans and dreams, telling you about his daughter, and driving you home seemed to be just the naturally kind gestures of a Southern gentleman... Or maybe it was just an act and in reality, whoever was up there was saving you from a big mistake before it could even happen. 

'I think that if he was a real gentleman and if the looks he gave you were real, he'll find a way to contact you.'

Maria's words were once again haunting you. Even with your hopes already slowly vanishing in ever seeing the oldest Miller again. He was a gentleman, no doubt. He had to be... right? There was almost no possible way he had put on a mask before entering that bar. But...

You shook your head. Your best friend might be a good people reader, but she's also well-known for her delusions. It was fun and made life much more exciting, that you had to agree with. Having a campus crush and calling him 'your man' when all he did was thank you and call the essay you wrote a 'great piece of work', was how you kept life interesting. It was easy entertainment. Normally, it was all fun and games, something you could tease each other with, but this was different. Because with Joel, you noticed it too. You may not have noticed the 'looks he gave you', but what man would just 'like to make sure you got home safe'? Or maybe you were potentially just looking too much into it. Maybe Maria had already infected you with her delusions.

'It's a small town, it can't be that hard.'

Well... it seemed to be very hard because it had already been close to a month. And neither of you had found a way or were interested enough to look for one. At some point, you had to get the fantasy of Joel Miller you had made up in your mind out of your head. There was no way a man could possibly occupy such a big part of your brain and control how you'd act at work.

There was only one man in the past who had the same kind of grip on you as Joel Miller now had. And that guy broke your heart when he admitted to cheating on you and getting Chlamydia from the college girl he fucked. Fun times...

Other than that, the topic of boyfriends hadn't ever been more than just plain and simple entertainment for you. You didn't use them. And you never would, because, after all, you were a lover girl at heart. But they just didn't make you nervous. Usually.

You could vividly recall each and every time you managed to make a man bring you to his house and let you spend the night, just as much as the number of times you barked at them to leave you alone in a club. Yes, they were big and scary men, but you were a woman raised by an older sister who inherited the generational trauma from your mother and anger issues from your father. If you didn't want them near you, you wouldn't let them.

Crushes came and went, and the ones that stayed, you were usually able to turn into something as serious as a few fun nights or even take it a little further and turn them into the two relationships you have had in the past. But that was it. 'Chlamydia boy', as Maria had baptized him, was the last one you had let occupy your mind as much as he did. 

That was until Joel goddamn Miller, in his 6ft, wide shoulders, itty bitty waist, rough hands, curly hair, shaggy beard, and grungy voice glory, just had to walk into that bar. Now you were daydreaming about a 30-year-old construction worker and single father all while he was probably just enjoying the evenings off-duty he got to spend with his daughter, looking forward to the next parent-teacher conference where the other mothers would be gawking at him and drooling while following him around like lost puppies.

That's how you found yourself. A birthday and a whole month later, in your family's restaurant just like almost every afternoon. You had finished another small exam and were finally able to enjoy the first rays of sunshine that were peeking through the clouds during the colder winter months on the way to work. But even the big windows couldn't even to some extent let you feel the freedom and fresh air from the outside. Sometimes you wondered if you should at some point regret coming back to Texas to help your family. 

Back then, you had been ecstatic about the mere thought of moving away, seeing more than what that small town you grew up in had to offer. That's why you decided to study out of state. You started building your life out there. A new life. But one call from your mother, asking you to come back was all it took. You couldn't tell her simply 'no'. Not when she was explaining that your father, due to his age, was advised not to work normal shifts on his legs anymore as they were slowly giving up on him. So, you listened to her. You packed your bags and came back. You found a place of your own and a roommate to share it with. You were accepted into the college you so desperately tried to avoid during the application process back in high school and continued your studies only 30 minutes away from the house you grew up in and the garden you used to play in.

You weren't allowed to regret your decision. Not if it meant helping your parents keep the restaurant alive they had worked their entire life for.

"Where's my daughter?" The frantic voice of your mother made you sigh out loud as you made sure to fix the name tag on the right side of your shirt. "Is she here already?" Her quick footsteps echoed through the kitchen until they stopped in the doorway of the small staffroom.

"I'm here, Mom," you answered her with the slightest hint of annoyance. The simple sound of her stressed-out sound and heavy breathing could get your blood pumping in an instant. She has always been a stressed person - making situations much more hectic than needed.

A heavy huff fell from her lips. "Y'are late," she simply stated.

With a roll of your eyes, you passed her, putting your hair up in a ponytail just like you usually would. "I'm not late, I had an exam. I told you that."

"I guess, I forgot... 'bout that...," she thought out loud. "Anyways," she was quick to change the subject, hot on your tracks, following you up to the counter overlooking the somewhat empty tables. You only could sigh again. "I'll have to leave earlier today. I need to go to the pharmacy before it closes. The doctor gave ya dad a new prescription," she explained. Another new one... was there ever going to not be another medication this man would be put on? The medical bills were already piling up - you remembered the stack of letters addressed to your father you had seen just the day before when you came over for the usual Sunday family dinner.

"Y'are okay with closing? Jimmy might stay with ya if I ask him." Jimmy, the head chef of the kitchen behind you and a long-family friend. He was in his fifties and had a wife and three kids waiting at home for him each night.

You shook your head, "No, it's fine. I... I think I can clean up by myself, but thanks," sending her a tight smile that got a big grin out of her.

"Great!" She grabbed your shoulders, giving them a quick squeeze. "I'll leave in a bit, alrigh'?" You nodded as an answer, your eyes already on the notes for the day your mother had put on the counter, out of eyesight from customers. And with that, you got to work.

Mondays weren't all that busy, usually. The construction workers from around the area would come in and order their usual big servings that had been keeping the family business going. Some teenagers spent their lunch break by the tables, working on their homework and having a quick meal. Just like every other day.

With a sigh, you pushed through the swinging door, separating the kitchen from the counter area of the restaurant. Three plates filled with the extra portions some of the construction workers asked for balances on your hands and left arm. In moments like this, you were thankful for the low number of customers. You rushed over to bring them their food in a respectful time, getting a round of charming 'thank you's in return, to which you nodded politely.

Just as you were about to get back behind the counter, hoping to find the next thing to focus on until new customers would come in, your eyes found a familiar face, sitting in a booth all by themselves. You smiled to yourself, watching the little kid's head buried in the book in front of them as they frantically continued to write something down with their right hand. 

It was the Parker's son, Miles. A young, very bright boy, who was way too mature for his age of only 10. The first time you had seen him in your parent's restaurant, you thought somebody had forgotten him. But no, he just enjoyed the background noises of the diner in the background while doing his schoolwork. He usually showed up a few times a week, would take a seat quietly and not ask for anything unless a waiter or waitress came over to him first. 

As you began working part-time, you took on the responsibility of being that exact person. You'd approach him and ask him for his order, adding a free hot chocolate or lemonade to whatever he desired - you paid for it out of your own pocket by the end of the day.

"Well hello, young man," you walked up to the boy with a soft smile on your face. The sound of your voice made him look up, pushing his glasses back up higher on the bridge of his nose.

"Hi, Y/N," he grinned at you shyly. It was only then you realised how much you had missed his rosy cheeks.

"I haven't seen you in so long. I got worried already," you admitted. It was the truth. You hadn't seen him in a good three weeks, which was very much out of the ordinary. In a small town, you would've expected to hear rumours and chatter about every family, but the Parkers seemed like a mystery to most apparently.

Miles shrugged, his eyes back down to his book. "I'm okay."

The tone of his voice told you otherwise. He wasn't a very expressive kid, to begin with, so the change in his tone stood out.

"Are you sure?" You quietly sat down on the opposite side of the booth. You were in no position to interrogate him, and neither were you the best with children - at least that's what you thought. But you were a good advice giver and could read a room usually pretty well.

It took a few seconds of silence before he spoke up again. "Mommy and Daddy are getting a divorce."

Oh.

The instability of his family was no secret - your mother had caught you up with everything going on behind their closed doors as she and Miles' grandmother were part of the Saturdays' flea market in town. And that woman had no filter when it came to the 'monster of a husband her daughter had married'.

"I see," you nodded gently. "And... you're okay with that?" It was a stupid question, yes, but how else were you supposed to not just let him sit in misery, the thoughts of his parent's divorce occupying way too much of this little kid's mind.

"I think so, yes." Miles looked at the side of the table, his pencil gliding over a crack in the wood, "Grammy said it's good. And Mommy has been crying less. So... I think I'm happy."

Your heart shattered just hearing his words. No child should ever have to go through something like that.

"Daddy said I'm not allowed to come here anymore." You glanced at him with a slight scrunch in your eyebrows. "But now I live with Mommy and Grammy, and they don't really care where I am after school, so I came back," he sent you an innocent bright smile. His bright face almost sent tears to your eyes.

"They do care where you are Miles," you tried to explain to him, not even knowing if it was the truth, but why should a child even dare to think that the authority figures in his life didn't 'care' about him. "They just... they probably know how happy you are whenever you're here. That's why they let you come over."

You noticed as he tried to avoid your eyes, glancing out the window as he spoke, "But I'm only happy when you're here too," he admitted.

Pressing your lips into a tight line, you took a deep breath, about to give him an answer back, wanting to let him know how much brighter your day got whenever you got to see him, but he beat you to it.

"That's Sarah Miller," his finger was pressed up against the glass. "With her dad." Unfazed, he turned his attention back to his notes. "His name's Joel."

"What?" You accidentally muttered out, your head snapping to the window. The black pick-up truck came right into view. The one he brought you home in. Your eyes followed his every move as he opened one of the back doors, helping his daughter out of the car. He held out a hand for her to take, but she ignored it and jumped with a big smile. A whole goddamn month it took for you to finally see his face again. 30 days, if not more. Just as you had been on the verge of forgetting about your encounter with the oldest Miller brother, he suddenly decided to show up. At your family's restaurant out of all places. 

Frozen in place, you couldn't help but stare, forgetting about the fact that a window worked both ways. You got lucky as he seemed to not have seen you, passing by and walking over to the front door while Sarah was skipping around the parking space in excitement. The pounding heart in your chest made you gulp.

"How do you know them?" You suddenly asked.

Miles continued to write in his notebook. "Sarah's in my class. She's nice."

"And-"

"I told her about this restaurant. Told her I like you and the food. And the free drink you always bring me," he sent you a quick grin, making you chuckle. The smile vanished quickly though as the sound of the bell above the entrance door rang through the room. To everyone else, it was just another customer coming in, but to you, it was the desperate crush on a 30-year-old man, who had no business occupying your mind as much as he did. There was no time to continue your daydream of finally seeing him again as he and his little one walked further into the restaurant, looking around to see which empty table they'd claim. Joel proposed the one in the corner right next to the door, which Sarah seemed to be okay with after taking another quick glance around the open space. They'd be waiting for someone to come and take their order. And that someone should be you. It had to be you. There was no other waiter on shift for this afternoon.

"I'll be right back," you quickly excused yourself, making Miles glimpse at you in slight confusion at your rushed tone, but the notebook in front of him was much more interesting anyway.

With a few deep breaths, you strutted across the floor, brushing over the apron covering the front of your thighs. You passed the register area to snatch the small notepad you used during your shift before finally making your way over to the duo.

Just before you were close enough to their table to stop, you heard the girl's faint voice mumble, "He said he'd be here." Her head turned upwards to grin at you as soon as you came to a halt, pen and paper in your grip.

"Hey, what can I get for you, guys?" You clicked the back of the bullet point pen.

Joel snapped his head up, his brown eyes staring at you as soon as your voice registered in his head. His lips parted, stopping for a second before he spoke up.

"O-Oh- hey," he sat up straighter.

"Hi," you smiled at him, slapping yourself internally at greeting him a second time when you literally just did that.

"Hey," he nodded, his lips curling up just a bit. "Y/N... right?"

While the name Joel Miller had branded itself onto your brain, he seemed to not even be sure about your first.

You nodded with a tight smile that was close to disappearing, but you had to keep a professional face on, "Yeah- yeah, Y/N," and pointed to yourself like an idiot. His eyes didn't leave your face, almost dragging you in, but you were quick to snap back, the sound of someone clearing the throat to your left catching you off-guard.

"Introduce me, Dad," Sarah tried to whisper, holding her hand to the wrong side of her mouth, where you could still clearly see her lips moving.

"Hm?" Joel's head turned towards her, "Oh- that's... that's Sarah. My daughter."

With a wide grin, the girl reached her hand out to you, which you gladly accepted, shaking it with a similar facial expression.

"Nice to meet you, Sarah."

"It's very nice to meet you too, Y/N." Once she dropped your hand again, her gaze quickly flicked over to her dad, who politely coughed into his elbow. "Do you know my, Dad?" She suddenly wondered.

"I- ehm...," you were quick to open your mouth before you could even come up with a full reply, wanting to kick yourself in the shin.

Thankfully, Joel decided to answer her, "She's a friend of Uncle Tommy."

Sarah gasped, her eyes widening, "You know Uncle Tommy too?" She gazed up at you in amazement, making you chuckle. Calling you a 'friend' was much easier than explaining your relationship with him to a 9-year-old, so you accepted it.

You nodded, "I do. I met him a long time ago." Not a lie.

"Cool," she said out loud, looking down at her intertwined fingers on top of the table. "What do you-"

"Babygirl, you wanted to eat, didn't you?"

The voice of her dad made her lift her head to grin at him, "Can I get pancakes?"

Joel put the menu he was holding down with a soft sigh, but a kind curl to his lips, "You can ask Y/N if you want to."

Quickly, she whipped her head towards you, "Can I have pancakes, please?"

You couldn't hold back a subtle chuckle. "Of course." The fact that pancakes were on your breakfast menu was unimportant. If the girl wanted pancakes, you'd get her her pancakes, even if it was close to 5pm. "And for you?" You turned to the man on your right.

"Can I get a simple turkey sandwich? And a black coffee?"

You nodded, writing down just quick abbreviations to remember their order. "Coffee's free here," you added.

"Oh, great," he commented, putting his hands down on the table, "That's all then."

"Alright, I'll be right back."

"Thank you," Joel gave you a nod and a grin, his attention back to his little girl as soon as you turned around and heard her whisper.

"Why do you know so many people?" Making you chuckle.

In the kitchen, you handed over their orders to Jimmy, who glanced at you with a frown, re-reading your handwriting on the piece of paper.

"Pancakes? At 5?"

"Can you do that? It's for a little girl, she's really sweet."

With a wink, he moved over to the stove, "'Course I can, no worries."

You grinned, "Thanks, Jimmy."

Getting a, "No worries, kid," in return.

Just as you were about to leave, you made a stop at the fridge, opening it to get the glass jug of homemade lemonade. Along with three clean glasses from the cabinets right above your head. You filled them up equally before putting the lemonade back and heading out to the counter again, balancing all three on a tray. You didn't expect the man standing right across from you, making you stop in your tracks.

"Hey," Joel smiled at.

"Hi," you copied him. Again, feeling the need to slap yourself. How many times have you now said these two words in exchange to each other? 

"I...," he started, looking around the empty bar area. His hands glided into the back pockets of his jeans before he locked eyes with you again. "I'm sorry, I... Sarah- she forgot to order a drink. Is it okay if I- can I do that here?"

"Yeah," you nodded your head frantically, putting down the tray, as your eyes landed on the filled-up glasses. "I- I was actually just about to bring two of these over to you guys." Taking them into your grip and lifting them to his eyesight.

"Oh- did she-"

"They're like a... signature thing here. I thought you'd... might want something to drink." You placed them down on the bar top, "On the house."

"Oh no, I can't let-" he started, but you were already shaking your head.

"No worries. A little welcome gift," you brushed him off, your fingers slowly digging into the wood below you.

Slightly hesitant, Joel reached out for the two lemonades.

"Gotta keep the customers coming back somehow," you added with a soft chuckle, getting a humourous laugh from him in return.

"Yeah... well..." he turned back to take a quick glance at his daughter before looking back at you, "we might be coming back more often anyways. Sarah got a recommendation from a classmate... and she's been really beggin' me to take her here. And we were in the area, so..."

"Miles, yeah... he- he told me," you nodded along with his storytelling, fidgeting with the dainty bracelet on your wrist - an older Christmas gift from your sister.

Joel raised his eyebrows in interest, "You know him?"

"Yeah," you nudged your head over to the left side of the diner, with the boy in the only occupied booth, "He's sitting over there."

"Aah...," he took a deep breath in, "Gotta make sure to tell Sarah," he mumbled slightly more to himself, but you were still able to catch it.

"Are they friends?"

Joel slightly shrugged his shoulder, "I guess so, yeah... they're both in an advanced Math course for middle schoolers, so... yeah."

"Advanced Math?" You wondered in astonishment. He hadn't told you all too much about her back in the car a few weeks ago, so this was news to you. You knew Miles was in that course, Christ, he had proven it to you many times before whenever you asked if he needed help with his homework, but you didn't know Joel's daughter went the same path. "A little genius."

"Yeah," the older Miller brother chuckled, looking down at his feet, "Kinda like you," he met your eyes. "I mean- not like you... really... because, you know, not... College level, but... she- she's interested in it too. But I- I guess... I don't know if she's really interested in it, but she seems to enjoy it so far, so..."

If your eyes and ears weren't playing with you, you could almost hear a slight added raspiness to his voice as he tried to avoid your gaze, talking on and on about his daughter. The grin making its way onto your lips was only an indication of your amusement at his rambling.

"I understand," you laughed. "Smart girl."

He nodded gently to himself, "That she is... she sure is..."

Your awkward chuckle was followed by a second of silence. Maybe a few seconds, actually. Joel could've excused himself to go back to the booth they chose, but he didn't even move an inch. Not even made an indication that he wanted to leave. Your eyes travelled around the counter, trying to look for something to busy yourself with, but there were no notes left, every other customer (there weren't a lot) seemed to be happy, so there was nowhere to go for you. You were stuck to stand still across from him, forced to bring the conversation to a halt as neither one of you knew what to possibly say next. Not until you went through each line that had spilled from his lips, remembering-

"You said you were in the area? Do you live here... or...?" What a smart move. Ask the stranger if he lived close to where you're working, fucking creep.

Joel cleared his throat, politely holding up a fist to his lips. "No no, she- Sarah... she has soccer practice every Monday 'round here."

"Oh," your eyes lit up, "At the old Ramson's field?" The corners of the man's lips curled up at the mention of the area that was once a strawberry farm. It was sold years ago by an elderly couple, the Ramsoms, to give the kids a place to run around freely. Somebody took the chance and turned it into a local soccer team's training ground.

"Yeah, exactly that. You know it?"

You nodded excitedly, "My sister used to go there. She was really active. Always the sporty one in the family, you know..."

For a second, Joel pursed his lips, smiling to himself before he answered. "So... sister's the sporty one and you're the smart one? Your parents got lucky."

"Well...," you talked down his compliment with a soft chuckle, "I don't know if I'd say I'm the smart one...," thinking about your next words for not longer than a second, "I did get in the car of a basically stranger who took me home while I was definitely intoxicated, so... don't know how smart that really is." Smirking at the mention of the evening.

The older Miller's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, "Why would you do- Oh." Stopping himself before he could continue. He shook his head with a laugh, "Right... yeah..." Just for a second, he had forgotten how truly unfortunate, or maybe not so unfortunate, your first meeting actually had been. "But," he took a deep breath in, "You got home safe. So it was a smart move, I guess."

"I got home very safe, yes," you agreed, a dreamy smile playing on your lips, as you pulled your hands back to yourself, feeling the chipped wood digging into your fingertips. "Thank you, again... really."

"All good," he gave you an assuring nod, "Rather getting in the car of a stranger than hangin' out with Tommy's group of... whatever they are."

You couldn't hold back the laughter coming from your lungs at his clear dislike of his younger brother's group of friends. Already back in the bar, it was clear to tell Joel was not a fan of them or the comments they made or truly anything about them all together, and he seemed to like making that very clear. He joined in your laughter with a slightly softer one, only to be interrupted as a voice from behind you suddenly shouted out.

"Pancakes and a ham sandwich!" Jimmy came through the swinging doors, the two plates in each of his hands as he stood next to you.

You turned to the side, giving him a quick smile.

"Oh- you were quick, thanks."

"I can take 'em," Joel was about to reach out, wanting to take his order, when you stopped him.

"No, no, it's fine. I'll bring them over," you assured him. "In a second."

"You sure?" He asked you cautiously.

You nodded, your lips pressed together tightly. "A girl's gotta work," you shrugged with a smile.

Joel gave you a quick nod before taking the two glasses of lemonade and going back to his table, the eyes of the little girl waiting for him getting big as she saw what he had brought along. You grinned at the sight.

"Y'sure you wanted to make the girl happy or the dad?" The old man's voice rang through your ear. Your head snapped towards him, taking a step in defence back.

"'Xcuse me?"

Jimmy shook his head in amusement, putting down the two plates of food. "I was in there tryin' to avoid interruptin' you two, but Lord..."

"What?" You wondered, a slight edge to your tone as you were interested in hearing what he was about to say.

He glanced at you with a soft smirk. "It was painful listenin' to that poor attempt of a flirt."

"A flirt? By who?" 

"Y'know damn well by who," he pointed a strict finger at you, the smile still evident on his face as you tried to hide your own.

You arrogantly lifted your head, making sure to stick your nose up extra high as you crossed your arms. "I have no idea what you're talkin' abou'," purposely copying his very Southern accent badly. "That wasn't flirtin'."

"Damn right, it wasn't."

"Oh, I'm sorry that I don't have forty years of flirting experience," you bit back jokingly, about to snatch the two plates off the counter.

Jimmy scoffed with a shake of his head, "I wasn't talkin' 'bout you, darlin'." And with those words, he left through the doors again, going back into the kitchen.

You stopped in your tracks, hurriedly following him. 

"Wait-," you called out, "You think he was flirting with me?"

"A poor attempt of a flirt," he corrected you, his back already turned to you as he started cleaning the counters. Before you could say anything more, he stopped you with a raise of his hand, "Go back to work, sweet pea. We'll talk about this later," giving you a last wink.

-

Joel and Sarah got their meals, and you brought Miles his free lemonade as well. It was already past 7pm, almost closing time as you usually locked the doors at 8pm. Most customers had left, besides a few teenagers you decided to hang around for a bit, enjoying the cheap prices of the food. The father-daughter duo in the corner had split up, leaving the oldest Miller brother to sit alone at the table, his finger furiously trying to type out a message on his phone, only to give up with an annoyed sigh and switch to calling the person. His little girl had joined Miles at his table after her dad had told her that he was there.

It was a rare sight. You had never seen the young boy interact with people his age. Or really with anyone but you or your mom. Other adults had tried to make a few conversations work, only to be met with silence from him. He didn't enjoy talking to strangers much, understandably so. The sound of the two giggling brought warmth to your heart and a smile to your face. He hardly ever grinned as much with you as he did right at that moment with her. You had no idea he even had people around him that could make him this happy. He didn't even smile at his mother when you once saw her pick him up. It was a one-time-only experience, he usually took the bus home alone. Sometimes you accompanied him, just out of fear and worry as to who would even think to let their own child travel by public transport in the dark. But maybe that was your big-city brainwashed mind talking and small-town parents saw the world completely differently than you did.

"We got any new ones?" Jimmy's smoker voice brought you back to the present and made your eyes leave the two kids to look at him.

You shook your head, "No, I think that was it for tonight, you can start closing up." You rarely ever got any new customers past 7:30, so you gave him the o.k. to clean up in the back while you started at the front.

Rounding the counter, you passed the tables, now empty, to get the last few plates and glasses that were left by people who had left merely a few minutes ago. Some others noticed you cleaning, handing you over everything they didn't need any more along the way. With full hands, you came back to the bar area, placing each dirty plate, glass, and mug on the window sill, between the front area with the kitchen. Jimmy gave you a grateful smile as he got a hold of them.

As you turned around, you were once again faced with the dark-haired, dark-eyed beauty of Joel Miller standing in front of you. He had stacked their two plates together, with the cutlery right on top, and the now empty lemonade glasses right next to them.

"Oh-," you chuckled, "Thank you," taking them off the counter to turn around and put them on the sill as well.

"It was really good, so, thank you," he commented with a tight smile.

"I'll let the chef know."

"The chef knows!" The older man shouted out from the kitchen, letting his head peak out the window with a big grin. His facial expression made both of you chuckle.

You turned back to face the oldest Miller, glancing up at him slightly shyly, not even trying to hide it. "You're leaving?"

Joel nodded, putting his hands into the pockets of his jeans, "Yeah... Tommy needs to get picked up. And Sarah's got school tomorrow. Gotta check if the homework's all done." You nodded along to every single word dripping from his lips, even daring to take a few quick glances down to see each movement and curve of them. "I mean- she always does them, I don't... I don't think she'd ever not do her homework, she'll even do them in short breaks or... in the car or something. But..."

"Just to make sure," you grinned at him, blocking his further rambling.

Joel nodded, a heavy breath falling from his lips, "Exactly... yeah..." He opened his mouth just a bit one more time, but wouldn't dare to speak, making you wait in silence, begging he would continue whatever his mind had come up with next.

He cleared his throat, looking over at his little girl, before switching back to you. "I- I should get her."

You gave him a hasty nod, "Yeah, yeah, of course."

Just as he passed the counter to walk over to the two kids who still seemed to be as giggly as they were 30 minutes ago, Joel turned back around.

He called out your name, making you whip your head around with hope.

"Yeah?"

"D'you know if his parents are gonna come pick him up?"

Not the question you were desperately waiting to come out of his mouth, but at least something.

You shook your head, "No, he usually takes the bus. I'll go with him after closing."

Hesitantly, but still, he nodded, mumbling a quick, "Alright," before continuing to make his way over to the other corner of the diner.

In the meantime, you got back to wiping down the front counter, before moving onto each table in the room. Even the ones that hadn't been used that day, you made sure to clean. In the position you were in, you could see Joel and Sarah heading for the front door, only to stop and wave at you.

"I'll see ya," the oldest Miller smiled, "Have a good night." You waved back, chuckling as Sarah excitedly waved as well.

"Bye, it was nice to meet you, Y/N!"

"You too, Sarah. Good night."

Your eyes didn't leave their forms until they were back in the car after Joel opened one of the doors on the passenger side in the back, waiting for his daughter to jump in. You couldn't help but grin at the sight. Other customers who passed you, said their goodbyes, making you walk over to their tables to collect the money they left for the food they had eaten. Arrived at the table the father-daughter had occupied merely minutes ago, you glanced at the money, counting the bills with your fingers only to realise the generous tip Joel had left for you. Damn it, there you were smiling again.

-

Miles was entertaining himself outside, still in the same booth while you joined Jimmy in the kitchen. Every table had been swiped over, the counter cleaned to perfection, the cashier counted and the money stored safely in the safe. You had found a comfortable place on top of one of the counters in the kitchen, a mug of the last bit of coffee that was in the pot now in your hand. Just as you were about to take a sip, a groan fell from your lips as the memory hit you.

"Huh? What?" The older man looked up from the floor he was sweeping over.

"I forgot to give him his coffee...," you mumbled out loud.

Jimmy's thick brows furrowed, "Who?"

"Joel..." He had ordered a black coffee. You had even told him it was free, and he never got to taste it... but then again, he didn't ask you a second time...

He seemed to think for a second before the corners of his lips curled up, "Aaah, Sir Handsome."

Your head shot up in confusion, "What? Sir Handsome? Really?"

Jimmy just shrugged, "That's what I'm gonna call him."

"His name's Joel. Joel Miller."

"Miller?!" He stopped in his tracks, coming to a halt with the chore, almost dropping the broom to sit against the counter. "From 'round here?"

You nodded.

"Miller, like Thomas Miller?!"

You glanced at him in confusion. "You mean Tommy Miller?"

The man rolled his eyes, "Whatever that punk's name was," and went back to cleaning up. His reaction got a chuckle out of you.

The name Tommy Miller, or like Jimmy sacred to call him, Thomas Miller, had embranded itself onto the entire staff of the Diner. Even past employees knew about him. Hell, even the food inspectors that used to come around once a year knew about him - he had the fantastic idea of following the lady around the diner like a lost puppy, flirting with her the entire time. The fact that she was well over 30 and he just a good 18 years old was so not important to him at the time.

He and his entourage were well-known around the area for multiple reasons. Their bad reputation had followed them all throughout their teenage and young adulthood, leaving a memory of their presence with each and every one who had ever come in touch with them.

"Yeah... they're... brothers."

With a clearly unamused facial expression, Jimmy glared at you, making you sit up straighter in an instant.

"Joel's the older one. And he's nothing like Tommy," you assured him. "I promise."

"And how d'you know that, young lady?" He popped his hip out to the right side, leaving the broom to lean against the counter as he took in his stance.

Jimmy might not be your father, but he's someone's. And you can tell. Your dad had been sick for longer than you'd like to remember, leaving Jimmy to take on the role of the next best thing of a male parental figure with a slight touch of a close friend.

"He- We...," you sighed, looking at the booth behind you to take a quick peek at Miles, colouring some pictures you had given him as entertainment. "I was at a bar-"

"When?" He nagged.

"Not too long ago."

"When?"

"A few weeks ago," you answered him with a sigh, trying to continue the story, when he interfered again. He shook his head, sighing your name out loud as he ran a hand over his face.

"Jimmy-"

"I won't tell your Mom, don't worry," he raised his hands in defence. "Just wantin' to know you were safe."

"I was," you told him, "partially thanks to Joel." Making him frown. "So. As I said. I was at a bar and Tommy, Joel's brother, was there with his group of friends-"

"Oh, Lord, help me...," Jimmy mumbled.

"Not his teenage friend group!" You called out, "I don't think so at least... I don't know," you brushed off the thought, "Anyways, I was there and Tommy invited me to sit with them. And at first, I wasn't really sure, but then Joel came too and I was like... why not, you know?" The older man gave you a knowing smirk. "But that quickly turned into a mistake because his friends, high school friends or not, were jerks, so I wanted to go home, but I had a few drinks, so Joel drove me home."

"You gave a random man your address?!"

"This is a small town!" You defended yourself, "If he was bad news, everyone would know!"

"That's not the point-"

"The point is!" You interrupted him, "I only got into his car because he was genuinely nice and the only one of them all that listened to me and actually seemed like he wanted to talk to me at that table." The part of your best friend technically forcefully reserving you a seat in the passenger side of his car was left out.

"Yeah...," Jimmy shook his head with a sigh, "You know who else was this charismatic?"

"Who?"

"Ted Bundy."

"Jimmy!" You threw your head back with a big laughter erupting from your lungs.

The audacity to even compare these two men.

"Dark hair, dark eyes, nice smile. Sounds like Ted to me." Like he knew the guy...

"You can't say that," you scolded him, wiping away the tear that had fallen from your eye in the middle of the fit of laughter. He joined you with a wholehearted chuckle, coming closer, to stand right across from you.

"So, what about him?" He suddenly turned serious, crossing his arms in front of his small beer belly.

You shrugged. "I like him," thinking for a second before continuing. "I only met him once- well, twice now, and I think he's really handsome. But... I don't know. I don't think he looks at me like that. This crush might be one-sided."

"Why not? Y'are a pretty lady!" He called out with another frown. It would let people believe he was mad when only compliments kept falling from his lips. "Ya smart, good with kids, polite. Why wouldn't he like ya?"

"He didn't even remember my name from the last time we met!"

Jimmy couldn't hide his smirk of amusement, "Sweetheart..."

"What? This isn't funny! I'm in a crisis."

"Y'are wearin' a name tag."

Your right hand immediately flew up to your chest and onto the plaque you always wore on the right side of your shirt. Glancing down, you saw the piece of plastic staring right back at you. How could you even forget that you were wearing that thing?

"But why..."

"I told ya," the old man shrugged his shoulder with a chuckle, "A poor attempt of a flirt."

You scoffed with a roll of your eyes, hopping down from the corner to take off the apron and mentioned tag. "That's really what you call flirting?"

"I think, he's a man probably somewhere around his thirties with a little girl by his side. How much female attention ya think he's been gettin'?"

"Have you seen him?" You stared at him with wide eyes. "I think quite a lot."

"Okay, how much female attention ya think he's lettin' get to him? This man probably hasn't even spent a night with another woman in YEARS. Where's the mom anyways?"

You shrugged, "Izzy said she got pregnant in college and everyone just thought he left her. But he has a daughter now and I hardly believe he would let his high school sweetheart alone with a baby while keeping one from another woman."

"Ya really thought a lot 'bout that, huh?"

With a smirk, you looked up at the ceiling before glancing to the side, trying to avoid his eyes as you mumbled, "Maybe a little..."

"If ya asked ya sister 'bout it, I doubt it was a little," he chuckled, noticing how riled up you were getting about the subject as you threw your apron on the counter.

"Alright! I thought about it a lot, okay?! I don't want to come off too strong when he has a whole family waiting for him at home. But so far... I don't think he has... but... I don't know." You crossed your arms in front of your chest. "I have to get my information somehow."

"Could also just ask him, ya know?" Jimmy tapped your head as he snatched your apron off the counter after taking off his own and heading towards the employees' closet.

"I feel like that's rude. Imagine just talking to someone, kinda 'cause you're forced to do it and suddenly she's all up your business, asking you about romantic partners and whatnot." You came to a halt in the doorway, leaning against it as you watched him pull out his jacket and hand you your own.

"I don't think he'd be flirtin' so poorly with a girl if he had someone at home. "He sent you a stern look, "And if he has and still does that, he's a piece of shit." Making you chuckle as you put on the piece of outerwear.

"Can you stop saying poor flirting? He was talking. Maybe he's trying. He was telling me about his daughter."

"Jesus, sweet pea, he told ya her entire life story. Ya could write her autobiography with all the ramblin' he did today," Jimmy joked, shaking his head in disbelief.

You laughed along with him as you grabbed your bag and headed back to the kitchen. "You're overreacting."

"Am not!" He told you. "The last time I sounded like that was when I tried to get to sweet talk my beautiful Betty." Your lips formed into a smile at the mention of his wife. This man could talk about her for HOURS. He's a true role model for the upcoming generation, and you were hopeful for his children getting to watch a couple truly in love right in front of their eyes.

"Plus," he added, "I have a cousin. Jeff. Single dad for three years. He's been tryin' to get himself out there again, and good God... Jesus help him. This man knows nothin'. Nothin'. That Joel kid reminds me of him a little," he stopped for a second to look at your blushed cheeks that had started to heat up. "Like I said, I didn't want to interrupt ya, but it was painful. Just like with Jeff."

You shook your head in defeat. There you had your confirmation. If what Maria had told you wasn't already enough, you better trust the wise words of a fifty-year-old man, married to the love of his life for a good thirty years.

"So," you cleared your throat, taking a deep breath in, "You think I have a chance?"

Jimmy sighed. He shook his head. After a step forward, he stopped right in front of you, placing both of his hands on your shoulders, only to cup your cheeks right after.

"My dear," he made sure you were looking him straight in the eyes. "I think ya could make a man build a castle with his bare hands for ya. And I think ya know that too."

You smirked, retrieving a small memory from that night in his truck. "Well... he is a constructor."

Jimmy gave you a laugh with his whole heart, pulling your face in to place a warm peck on the top of your head. He let you free again, giving you a comforting pat on the shoulder.

"Just give that man some time. Y'are a beautiful lady. He's nervous." With a final nod, he left through the back door of the diner, leaving you alone in the kitchen. He knew you'd be taking the bus to make sure Miles got home.

Speaking of, the last sounds echoing through the empty area were your beating heart and the scraping of the coloured pencils getting dragged over the paper by Miles. Your head turned to the side, and with a smile, you watched the young boy.

Just give him some time.

-

A week later, on Tuesday, you saw him again.

Monday had passed and there had been no sign of Sarah or him. Miles had been at the diner, entertaining you with some casually fun stories from school, including the young Miller girl in a few of them, but never anything else. And you weren't going to pester him about why she hadn't visited the diner after her practice on Monday.

But there he was, strolling into the room on Thursday, 6:30 in the evening. You were writing down the order of a group of teenagers when you heard the bell above the door. Right after you lifted your head, just wanting to call out a quick, "Welcome!", your breath got caught in your throat, making you cough out loud awkwardly. With a hand in front of your lips, you tried to cover it up, going back to writing down the order before disappearing into the kitchen.

"He's here!" You shout-whispered at the cook, who whipped his head around.

"Who?" He wondered, answering you quickly, but as soon as he saw your wide-eyed stare, he got the message. Jimmy smirked as he placed two finished plates on top of the counter. His eyes drifted from your form over the open window out into the restaurant, his smile dropping in an instant.

"Fucking Miller," he cursed out loud. You turned around to follow his gaze, finding not only Joel but also Tommy taking a seat in a booth right across from you. The older Miller's head seemed to notice your stare, glancing up, only for you to quickly turn around again.

"What do I do?" You continued to whisper, now even more careful about the others possibly hearing you as they were only a few feet away and an open window wasn't much of a sound barrier.

The cook rolled his eyes and turned back to the stove. "Get that punk out of the restaurant."

"Wh- Not Tommy! I don't mean him," you explained. "Joel."

Jimmy looked back at you, "Just be yourself, Jesus," grumbling something to himself that you couldn't quite understand.

Defeated, you took a deep breath in, reminding yourself of who you actually were and trying to get your act back together. If Maria could see you, she'd be filming you for a future Comedy sitcom - she'd have a field day with the state you were in. Nervous because of a man...

Just as you turned around, ready to face the outside world again, Jimmy's call out of your name made you stop.

"Huh?"

"Give me that," he nudged his head towards your hands.

"What?" With a frown you glanced down, seeing the order you had just written down, already long forgotten again. "Oh- right," you ripped the piece of paper off the block and put it on top of the counter before trying to walk away again. But there he was, the older man stopping you one more time.

"What?" You asked him, clearly on edge now, slightly amusing him.

"I swear to God, I'll spit in his food. Don't matter what he'll order." You knew exactly, who he was talking about, making you roll your eyes with a chuckle.

You pushed the swinging doors, taking a quick look around the space, trying to see if anyone needed something for you, but it was, just like the last few times, barely packed. Going past the counter, you crossed the floor to the other side of the restaurant, already noticing one side of the handsome face you had been so desperate to see again.

"Hey, guys," you approached them with a smile, stopping right by their table, now also finally getting a peek at the younger Miller. Both men were still in some type of work attire and you noticed the slight shine and curl to their hair. Tommy's was longer and darker, but you prefered Joel's.

"Hey, girly," the youngest grinned at you before slapping his older brother's arm that was perched up on the table. "See, I told you, she'd be here," he turned back to you, "How have you been?"

You nodded, "Good, busy. The usual, you know. You?"

"Good, good," he continued, "Getting back into the American lifestyle, chasing the American Dream." You didn't notice the roll of the eyes from Joel.

You couldn't help but chuckle, "You're chasing the American Dream?"

"Sure am," he answered you proudly. "Might not be as smart as you are, but a man's gotta try."

"'Course, why not," you shrugged, a smile still on your lips, hoping your answer would be enough.

"So," he huffed out a big breath, taking the menu into his grip, pretending to read over it. "I heard your turkey sandwich and pancakes are still as good as I remember."

You had to admit, the thought of Joel and Sarah telling him about their dinner at the diner warmed your heart a bit.

"I mean," you smirked, "I might be a bit biased, but I'd say so, yeah. Jimmy's still making them as good as always."

"Jimmy's still here?" Tommy wondered, making you nod a take a step to the side, letting him take a quick peek into the kitchen. "Ey, Jimmy!" The old man turned around, meeting the young Miller's eyes with a glare. Tommy lifted his hand for a wave, but the cook's attention was already back on the food he was making.

"Still doesn't like me, I see," he mumbled, shaking his head slightly as you laughed.

"Wouldn't be surprised if he spat in your foot." Joel suddenly spoke up. You looked over to him, giggling at the comment, making his lips curl up in return.

"He offered," you let him know, getting a chuckle out of him,

"Well," he shot his brother an annoying smirk, "Aren't you a treat for this town."

Tommy looked up at you, a hasty response dropping from his lips, "Tell him I decline. Gladly." Before scowling at his older brother.

Suddenly, you felt like you were interrupting something between the two. With a deep breath, the younger Miller brother was back to his old self, fixing the fit of his jacket. "Well, then... I'll take the turkey sandwich and see if it's still holdin' up to the good ol' times."

Your lips curled up into a teasing grin, deciding to just throw out the comment tickling your tongue. "You're doubting Jimmy's talent?"

"I would never," he quickly told you, making you chuckle and gently shake your head before you diverted your attention to the older brother, seeing him already looking up at you. The menu was barely in his grip as his fingers played with the laminated corners of the paper.

"I'll take the same," waiting for you to be done writing it down asking Tommy to pass him his menu and handing both over to you.

Before you turned around to get the orders over to Jimmy, you asked, "Coffee?"

Joel nodded, "Sure, thank you," intertwining his hands on top of the table as he looked at you. He didn't comment on the fact you forgot about that the last time he was there. You sure wouldn't forget it this time.

"Make that two, please," Tommy quickly added with a thankful nod after you assured them to be right back.

-

Trying to keep your eyes off the man was harder than you had hoped it would be. While you were able to busy yourself with taking orders and repeatedly cleaning the counter - you swear, it had never been cleaner than that day - you couldn't help but let your eyes wander over to the seat right by the window.

Joel and Tommy were sipping the coffee you had brought them, munching on their sandwiches, hopefully, oblivious to the internal fight you had going on with yourself. Miles was almost finished with his free lemonade and you were actually close to getting him another one, just so you had something to do. You couldn't just lurk around the counter like you usually would, otherwise, you'd find yourself staring at one of the brothers for too long.

During your little cleaning frenzy, you were able to let not only Jimmy's words but also Maria's re-run in your mind again. The evening, right after Joel and Sarah had spent their evening time in the diner, your best friend got every single detail from you, the moment she stepped into the apartment at 4am. Yes, you had stayed up to tell her. The session ended at around 6, the sun lighting up the living room being the indication to finally go to bed, where you found yourself awake for another good 40 minutes, just begging for a good dream to finally find you.

You had recalled the entire few hours he was in the same room as you. The moment he and his daughter stepped into the diner, the brief conversation you guys had, the coffee you had forgotten, up until the moment he had to basically verbally drag Sarah away from Miles' booth to get her home. Maria's screeching and excited jumps on the couch made you smile to yourself as you remembered the evening. It came close to a miracle that you got away without a single purple mark on your arm, considering she was repeatedly hitting you, smacking the naked skin of your upper arm each time his name fell from your lips.

She had put extra emphasis on the "I'll see ya," Joel had left the diner with. To which you sadly had to explain to her the casual meaning of those few words. It was a somewhat polite way to say goodbye to someone you know, not necessarily meaning that you'll see each other again. Maybe indicating it, but definitely not meaning it word for word - but Maria stood her ground.

You had also told her about your gossiping session with Jimmy afterwards. She had only met him a handful of times, her own working hours not leaving her much time to come and visit you at the restaurant, so told tales would have to do it. But even without really knowing the man, she agreed to each and everything he had said. 

"You know, there's not a lot that I would believe coming from a man or even listen to. But if anyone knows about a man's poor flirting techniques, it would be another man."

You had hidden your face in one of the pillows on your couch, the heat shooting into your cheeks being almost too much to bear, resulting in another few slaps to your arm from her. Jesus, could could start giggling and kicking your feet right now too, just at the mere thought of there being some sort of truth to their words and Joel's actions. But there was a barrier of reality still right in front of you. Not only had Jimmy mentioned his 'poor attempt of a flirt' but also the fact that your not-so-silly little crush was a 30-year-old father, with possibly very limited dating experience in the past few years. It wasn't something you had even tried to consider before Jimmy mentioned it. Add the unnecessary comment from one of Tommy's friends back at the bar, and it suddenly made sense.

"This poor man probably has no idea that you're even interested in him," Maria had whined out loud, "He's trying his best, but God..." You chuckled at her voice in the back of your head.

You ditched your daydream the moment the coffee pot was fully filled up again, the coffee machine making its usual sound to let you know it was done. With that, you began your usual round within the diner, passing each person who was holding onto a cup, asking them for a refill. Most happily accepted your offer, leaving you with a half-empty pot once you reached the two brothers.

"Another cup for you two?"

Tommy smiled up at the sound of your voice, "Sure, thanks, Y/N." You made sure his mug was properly filled up before turning towards Joel, who politely declined.

"Not for me, but thank you," nodding his head at you.

"Still trying to cut down?" His younger brother wondered, speaking over the brim of the mug he had brought up to his lips.

Joel took a deep breath, "If you had a 9-year-old lecturing you about the effects of caffeine each morning, you'd start thinkin' about it too." The explanation got a chuckle out of Tommy and made your lips curl up into a smile. Before you even thought about turning around to walk back behind the corner, you decided to continue the conversation. Taking every shot you could, just like Maria had told you.

"How is she?" You asked, "Sarah."

The older Miller brother lifted his head with a somewhat surprised expression on his face, but you just continued to smile at him. Tommy continued to hold his cup up against his mouth, hiding the smirk forming on his lips.

"Good," Joel let you know, "Very good. She... She had a test today. Lot to study yesterday... so we couldn't come over."

"I see," you humed, "I was wondering where you guys were."

A brief moment of silence followed your comment, almost making you regret admitting to the longing. Thankfully, the younger Miller got up from his seat with a clearing of his throat, making Joel perk up.

"Where are you goin'?"

"Gonna take a piss. You wanna control that too?" Sending his older brother an unreadable facial expression, almost glare, before he disappeared to head towards the toilet.

You frowned when a sigh escaped Joel's lips. "Everything okay?" You asked him, eyeing the older man carefully as he ran a hand over his face.

"Yeah," he mumbled, "Just... Tommy being Tommy."

A chuckle fell from you, making you cover your lips with your fingers. "Sorry," you excused yourself as he lifted his head, "Just... if I had a dollar for every time I heard those words from someone with that expression... I wouldn't be working here anymore."

Joel laughed. You managed to get the scowl off his face to replace it with a genuine laugh. He looked down at the table, shaking his head, but you could see his shoulders shaking and the unmistakable sound of joy coming from him. You tried to hide your amusement, the moment he locked eyes with you again.

"I thought you worked here because you were a good daughter," he commented. He remembered the conversation in his truck. On the way to your place, you had briefly mentioned the reason you had come back to Texas. And he remembered.

You grinned, "Oh, I'm a great daughter." Joel chuckled. "But I wouldn't mind the extra cash." Your own words let a thought flash into your mind. "Speaking of," you started again, "Thank you for the tip... last week. It really- you... you didn't have to do that."

"All good," he sent you a quick smile, "Good service needs a good reward."

"Even though I forgot your coffee," you sheepishly admitted, just getting another chuckle out of him.

"We got good food and free drinks, so you won't find me complaining," he simply told you, making you smile and look down at the pot of coffee you were still holding onto.

"Well," you had started to tap around with your fingers, trying to look for the next words to say, "Thank you. I appreciate it."

"'Course," he nodded at you before you turned around to get behind the counter again.

-

Only a few minutes later, the two brothers decided to call it a day and stand up to leave. You were just coming back out from the kitchen when you found them standing at the register, both smiling when you came to a halt.

"Just wanted to say goodbye," Tommy grinned at you, gently smacking his hand on top of the counter.

You chuckled, "Bye, have a good evening." 'Night' would've probably been more suitable as it was pitch black outside. A quick look towards the clock would also tell you it was already 7:51pm - almost closing time.

The younger one turned towards the exit door while Joel stood still, waiting for your eyes to lock again.

"I'll see you next week. Goodnight," he simply said with a smile, turning around without another word. His soft voice lingered in your head even after he was already through the doors and on his way to his beloved pick-up truck.

You quickly pulled yourself back into the presence. With a swift turn around, you rushed back into the kitchen. Even before the door was fully closed again, you were jumping around the space, getting a shocked facial expression from Jimmy in return.

"He said 'See you next week!!" You squealed in exactly, your arms moving around in the air as you got closer to the chef.

With a tight grip on his arm, you shook him, "He said 'SEE YOU NEXT WEEK'!"

The older man just grinned at you, shaking his head as he watched you dance around the kitchen.

"How much joy just a few words can bring to ya, kid," he softly spoke, throwing the dishcloth over his shoulder to cross his arms and lean against the counter.

"Just a few words?!" You stared at him, stopping your movements, "He just promised me that he'll come back next week! He WANTS to come back!" Reality hit you for a split second. "I sound really delusional, but I. Don't Care." Before starting your little happy dance around the space again. Jimmy's deep chuckles bounced off the walls.

"Can't remember the last time I've seen ya so happy." He admired the pure happiness spilling from you, filling the room with nothing but joy. With a sigh, your spinning around came to an end.

"I'm happy because I get to see a good-looking hunk of a man again! Can you blame me?"

"Hunk of a man?" Jimmy laughed out loud, his entire upper body shaking as he walked around the corner to push you towards the door. "Get to locking up and then ya can tell me all about Sir Handsome again."

"Okay!" You squealed again, pushing out the door, the echo of his laughter still in the background. Suddenly, getting through the rest of the week seemed to be much more enjoyable than before.

-

On Friday, one of the only days, you had gotten off of work at the diner, you decided to join Maria in the bar. While she was working, you were enjoying your time sitting at the counter once again. You were sipping on your second drink of the night, drinking slowly as you weren't looking for something wild tonight, but rather just enjoying a nice calm evening. It was around 11pm and even though you had been sitting there for a good 2 hours, there was not a massive amount of alcohol rushing through your body as you had asked your best friend to keep the drink mild. But some people had other plans that night.

"Well, hello there," a deep voice slurred next to you. With slight confusion you turned to the right, eyeing the man that had tumbled up to the bar counter.

You sighed, "Hey." Nothing against drunk people, hell, you were one of them from time to time, but God... sometimes you can just tell, you know?

He blinked at you, "A pretty little girl so alone in the middle of a bar in the middle of the night?" His dirty blonde hair was roughed up and the plaid button-up hung loosely around his frame. It seemed to be a size too big.

"Yeah," you nodded, "And I'd prefer to keep it that way, to be honest." For tonight, there were no plans. You were waiting for a beautiful man on Monday, that was plan enough.

The guy chuckled, holding onto the counter as he stumbled back, "I'm Cody and I'm sure I could change ya mind. I could show ya good time, I promise."

"You're trying to sell yourself here? I'm not interested, thank you," you simply told him, internally begging for Maria to come back to the front, but she was being kept busy in the back apparently. Nobody else seemed to be interested in what was going on between you and the drunk fuck next to you.

With slight confusion written across his face, he continued to stumble over his words. "Who says anythin' about sellin'? I ain't sellin' myself. Ya can get this here for free," pointing towards himself.

"As I said," you repeated yourself, making sure annoyance laced your voice, "Not interested." Just as you tried to get up and move, hoping to get behind the bar and into the backroom, you felt a tight grip on your arm.

"Listen," the man stopped you, "You don't know what ya missin' out on here, sweetcheeks."

"And you don't know what you're getting yourself into if you continue to talk like that to me. Let go of me," you hissed at him. You were taught how to use your words, not your hands though, so you didn't really know what exactly you were threatening him with.

A disgusting sarcastic chuckle came from him while his grip just tightened. You glared into his eyes with a hint of fear as he let his face get closer to you, "Look, I don't wanna do this another-"

"Hey, what's goin' here?" Never would you have ever thought to be thankful to hear that voice. Whipping your head to the left, you found a wondering Tommy Miller, glancing between you and the drunk guy. A sigh of relief tumbled from your lips. "You two are lookin' awfully close."

"Get back to ya own business, cowboy," the guy spat at the younger Miller brother, his eyes raking over his frame when he found the boots Tommy was wearing. "I'm just talkin' to the pretty lady 'ere."

"Well, but I know that pretty lady, so it kinda is my business, you know?" He simply answered him, daring to take a step closer. Tommy glanced at you, "You know him, Y/N?" He asked.

You shook your head with a gulp, to which he just nodded, but before he could even say something, the drunk, still holding onto you, beat him to it.

"She's lyin'! I just introduced myself!"

"You know, I believe her," Tommy stopped him, raising his hand to place it on top of his that was gripping your arm, "So how about you take your-"

"Get your fucking hands off me!" The other guy snapped at him, pulling his hand off you, reacting to Tommy's touch like it was fire.

The younger Miller could just laugh at the reaction. "What?" He chuckled, "So you can put your hands on a random woman but as soon as I do it it's uncomfortable? A bit ironic, don't you think?"

"What are ya tryin' to do here?" With a few steps, the guy was head to head with Tommy, making you take a quick jump back. "Ya think ya gotta prove you've got some big balls here?"

"Me?" Tommy pointed to himself with a chuckle, "Nah, I just wanted to know if I gotta play translator." His comment got a look of confusion from the man in return. "I didn't you understood the English language because I'm pretty sure she said she wasn't interested, but you just... ignored that?"

"Ya makin' fun of me?"

"Am I?" Tommy continued to nag at the guy, making you take a step forward, trying to reach for him.

"Tommy, don't-" only to get pushed back by the dirty-blonde man.

"Get the fuck away!" He shoved you, making you stumble backwards, hitting the back of another guy, to whom you quickly excused yourself.

The younger brother looked at you in concern, but as soon as he saw you safe on your feet, his attention was back on the drunk in front of him.

He sighed, "Look," he motioned towards you. "Now I have to hit you. Because you just hit her."

"I didn't hit her," the guy scoffed, "I barely even pushed her."

"Nah, I'm pretty sure you did that," with a strong force, Tommy pushed into the guy's chest. "Maybe even a little harder, like this," and repeated it with some added strength.

In clear annoyance, the drunk man shoved Tommy's hands off of him, only giving it another second before he let his fist swing. The Miller brother was quick to react, moving out of the way before landing the first official punch to the guy's side. The blonde groaned at the impact, only letting it affect him for a split moment before pushing Tommy further away. It gave him the time and space to land his own first hit to Tommy's face, making you gasp out loud. 

The entire's bar attention was now on the two fighting men, creating some space for them as they stumbled across the floor. You could only hear a few mumbles around you as your eyes were fixed on the fight in front of you. You tried to look for Maria but a crowd had formed right in front of a bar with mostly men, taller than you, hiding the counter area.

One punch made Tommy land on his ass as the other guy whipped his hand over his lips, you guessed there was some blood. You took the opportunity, to get down on the floor, your hands on the Miller's arm.

"Come on, stop this, don't waste-"

But before you could finish it, somebody shoved your body away from Tommy, making your back hit the wooden pole right behind you. You groaned out loud, closing your eyes for a second.

"Y/N!" You heard Maria's voice as she suddenly appeared, standing in front of the crowd with a glass bottle in her hand. In the next moment, she held the bottle up, swinging it to let it hit the back of the drunk guy's head before he could land another punch to Tommy's face as he straddled him. The man fell to the side, right by your feed, making you flinch away.

"Are you okay?!" Maria was right by your side, crouching down as she helped you up.

You nodded, "Yeah, yeah," you had only hit your back, which would definitely leave a mark, but not much else. Your worry lay on the guy who hadn't gotten up yet. No, not the clearly drunk one.

"Tommy," you rushed over, watching him as he groaned, blood rushing down from his nose. You couldn't even tell if there was blood coming from his mouth as well.

He huffed out, "Ah, fuck," trying to steady himself with his hands on the floor as he pushed himself up.

"Jesus Christ," Maria whispered out loud. The hushed voices around you got louder, making her raise her voice, "Everybody either get back to their table or out of here! There's nothing to see here!" After the first guy went after her demand, the rest followed.

"Tommy," you sighed, "I think we should get you to a hospital."

"Are you okay?" He suddenly asked you. You nodded quickly,

"I am. But you don't look good."

"N-No... no hospital," he told you trying to stand up more, making you stumble up as well as you tried to hold onto him even though he was putting half of his weight on you already.

"You have to, Tommy. Your nose is probably broken."

"If only the nose," Maria commented, suddenly having an ice pack and some paper tissues in her hold. "You wanna take my car? Get him to the hospital... I'll see what I can do about... this one," she nodded towards the guy on the floor that was slowly coming back to consciousness. "Probably have to call the police."

"Did that already!" Out of nowhere, Steven suddenly shouted out from behind the bar, making your best friend roll her eyes.

"Where the fuck were you before?!"

"I can't let... I...," Tommy groaned, not finishing his sentence as his mouth seemed to hurt.

"Take my car," Maria quickly told you, handing you the ice pack, tissues and the keys from her bag pocket, "And call me once you're there. I'll handle this here." She also got your bag for you.

You smiled at her, "Thank you," to which she nodded, giving you a soft touch on the back before you tried to move Tommy towards. He seemed to be okay walking, but his face was clearly in pain as he held his head down. The walk towards Maria's car was quiet, only his groans and moans filled the air between the two of you.

In the car, you put on the radio, trying to let the silence not become awkward.

"Are you okay?" Tommy asked you again.

You nodded, "You asked me that already. I'm okay. Only hit my back."

"Fucking idiot...," he mumbled, mostly to himself probably, but you shook your head.

"You too," you told him, "Why would you start a fight like that? I thought those days were over."

"I ain't lettin' a man talk like that to a woman, no matter what. And I know you, so I'm definitely not walkin' past that," he defended himself, almost raising his voice, but the situation told him not to.

The rest of the ride, the two of you listened to whatever was coming from the radio.

-

At the hospital, the two of you were told to wait in the waiting room as his injuries were not severe enough for him to be put in the emergency room. If it wasn't as late as it was, you would've started something with the personnel, but you already had enough of that for one night. They did offer you a new ice pack though and some more tissues.

You took a seat in one of the uncomfortable chairs next to Tommy, trying to find a bearable position. "Should I call Joel?" You asked him, knowing how close the two seemed to be.

Tommy groaned, throwing his head back and closing his eyes, "Fuck..." He thought for a second before continuing, "No... let's not do that. Unless you really wanna see him." One quick glance to the side, you found him smirking at you, giving you a quick wink. Even with all the blood on his face, this man was still able to joke around...

"You...," you shook your head in disbelief, "You're in the hospital. This is about you. I think he should know about his little brother being in the hospital," you snapped at him, but he only continued to smile.

"But you want to see him again, right?"

"Tommy-"

"I heard you in the diner." 

Your head snapped to glance at him. The annoying grin was still plastered on his face.

"What?"

He chuckled. "I left my hat in the booth. When I came back to get it I saw you dancing around the kitchen singing that he'll see you next week."

With a pout on your lips, you crossed your arms in front of your chest and turned your head to look away. You knew there was no blame on him for this situation and all the blame was to be put on you, but you couldn't help but feel sulky towards him.

You scoffed, "It's not nice to listen to other people's conversations."

"But now I can help you," he nudged your side, hissing softly as he moved. You stared at him, trying to figure out if he was in serious pain and if you needed to get a nurse. He seemed fine as the smirk returned.

"Get your nose fixed first, then we'll talk."

With another groan, he sat forward, suddenly reaching into the back pocket of his jeans before falling back into the seat with a groan. He handed you his phone.

"Call him."

"Tommy, you didn't want him here. I'm not-"

"He'll be pissed at me, yes. But y'all can talk while I'm in there," you glanced at you, "Get to know each other a little better," wiggling with his eyebrows. You couldn't help but roll your eyes, your lips curling up against your will. He nudged the Nokia closer to you, giving you no other possibility but to take it.

"I'll be right back," you mumbled, getting a giggle out of him.

"Start the call with 'hey babe'!" He shouted after you, putting on a fake high-pitched voice to mock you. A harsh 'ssh' from one of the nurses made him sink back into the chair and you turned around and threw him a quick middle finger before disappearing further into the corridor.

You pressed the buttons to get to his contact list, not finding anyone under J that wasn't a girl's name, so you decided to just look through the entire thing, starting with A, until you finally reached B.

Barbara, Beatrice, Billy, Boobs-

He had a contact for 'Boobs'? You shook your head.

Brother Old.

This could either be someone else, an old number of Joel or, as you had hoped, Joel's current number. You pressed to call it, putting the phone up to your ear. After four rings, somebody on the other side picked up.

"What?" An annoyed groan erupted through the speaker. The familiar roughness to his voice was unlike any other's.

"Hey Joel, it's Y/N," you answered him. Some shuffling around seemed to happen in the background before his voice rang through your ear again.

"Y/N? What's going on? What happened?" He hastily wondered.

You took a second of silence to form a good sentence, just thinking about what he was currently doing or even just looking like. It was in the middle of the night, and just taken from his voice, you'd say you had interrupted his sleep. Did he sleep in a pyjama set? No, he was a dad. A true dad wouldn't sleep in much else but some shirt and boxers. Or maybe he's not wearing anything at all to sleep. You were drifting off.

"Ehm... So... Sorry for calling so late-"

"It's okay, don't worry," he quickly assured you with a heavy breath.

Out of habit, you bit down on your lip before continuing. "I'm calling from the hospital. Tommy got into a fight."

"God damnit..." Joel cursed under his breath. There were more incoherent sounds in the background as he spoke. "Which hospital?"

"St. David's."

"Alright, I'm on my way," he told you.

You nodded even though he wouldn't be able to see it, "Okay, we're in the waiting room right at the reception."

"Good, thank you."

"You're welcome, bye."

With a sigh, he put the phone down, ending the call and making your way back into the waiting room.

Tommy lifted his head at the sound of your footsteps getting closer to him.

He grinned at you. "And?"

You shook your head, handing him his phone back. "He wasn't thrilled."

"Ah," he brushed off your answer, "I bet your face will make him happy."

"Joel- Tommy, I mean-"

"I'm already getting confused with him? Wow, I'm honoured," he nudged you as soon as you sat down, the smirk still evident on his face.

"Shut up," you rolled your eyes, not even trying to hide your amusement. "It's late."

"But you do like him."

"I barely know him," you defended yourself.

"But you find him attractive," he continued to nag further.

You nodded. There was no reason to hide it from him if he had already caught your burst of excitement back at the diner. "But I think half the female population of Austin would too."

"But half of the female population of Austin isn't you."

His comment made you turn your head in interest.

"And what exactly do you mean by that?" You squinted your eyes at him.

Tommy smiled. "I think I know my brother well enough to notice when he finds someone attractive."

You laughed at his answer. "Wow, you're just gonna out him like that?"

"Somebody's gotta do it," he shrugged, "What else he got a younger brother for." You shook your head in amusement.

You may not be the closest to Tommy, but this was the most time you had ever spent with just him. Plus, he had just admitted to noticing his brother's attraction towards you. That brought a thought to your head.

"Can I ask you something?" It probably wasn't the ideal situation, but oh well, if you already had him sitting right next to you, confined to a chair, why not. Shooting your shots.

"Sure."

"Is there... you know... I mean... with Sarah, I was thinking about like... her mom?"

He shook his head, "Don't worry 'bout that," he let you know, turning to meet your eyes. "It's not my story to tell, but... she's not in the picture."

You almost felt stupid. You had only seen this man a total of three times, yet he had managed to enarmour you and let you think that you suddenly had the right to know everything about his personal life.

"Why?" He asked with the smirk back plastered on his face, "You wanna ask him on a date?" The question took you by surprise, making you open your mouth, ready to defend yourself, but nothing came out. Your lips quivered as you tried to come up with an answer, but Tommy just laughed at your surprised reaction. The rose blush to your cheeks gave you away.

"You should," he told you, "It's been like... God, I don't even know, like... two or three years. Christ, maybe even four."

"Since his last relationship?" You wanted to be careful with your questions, but there was no way when Tommy played open book to you.

He shook his head, glancing at you. "Since his last date."

"Oh..."

So Jimmy was right.

"Yeah," Tommy nodded to himself, "You'd be surprised how many women get scarred off by the whole dad thing." Your lack of answer made him look over again. "But not you."

"Hm?"

"You ask about Sarah. He likes that."

"Well... she's his daughter, so... kinda obvious to ask about her," you were taken aback by the disinterest of the other women he had mentioned.

He shrugged, "Yeah, but like I said... not many care 'bout that."

A few moments of silence followed. Neither one of you seemed to have any will to continue your conversation. You didn't want to keep nagging further and you were pretty sure Tommy had started to doze off in his seat. It gave you some time to think, but a sudden jolt from the man next to you brought you back. He was about to sit up straighter when his eyes caught something behind you making you flinch and duck into the chair again, groaning at the impact.

"What?" You wondered, turning around to only find two police officers in the hallway, talking to a nurse. With a frown, you turned back to the Miller brother. "What?"

"They can't see me like this."

His reaction alarmed you immediately. "Why not?"

He seemed to think about his next answer before spilling out, "I know those guys. And they don't like me. If they see me like this, I'm fucked."

"What?"

"I just got a new job, I can't get another mark in my record."

Your eyes widened, "Your criminal record?" To which he just nodded. "Tommy!" You shouted-whispered at him, making him shush you. "How many fights did you get in."

"A few, okay? Just," he put his finger up to his lips, signing for you to keep quiet. You dropped back against the backrest of the chair with a sigh, shaking your head as you ran both hands over your face, mumbling to yourself.

From the side, you tried to watch the two officers as they passed you, hearing a relieved chunk of air leaving Tommy as he sat up again. You couldn't believe it. You knew he wasn't an angel and you remembered his troubled time as a teenager. What you didn't know was how that time had continued to chase him into adulthood.

Noticing his still slightly on edge stance, you decided to change the subject, hoping to give him some kind of distraction. And it just so happened that you had an actual topic of interest for you personally.

"You think I should ask him out?" A gulp followed your question, unsure if dropping that would reveal itself to be a mistake or not.

"On a date?" Tommy's voice was steady again as he looked at you, his lips curled into a soft smile. You nodded, making him chuckle. "Give him some time and he'll ask you himself."

"You think?"

He nodded but continued. "I mean, you can ask him. I... I don't know how he'd react, to be honest, but he wouldn't leave you hangin'. He's just... he's a traditional southern-"

"Gentleman," you said in union, chuckling together.

"I mean," Tommy started, "You know, if a woman offered herself to me, I would never decline-" You stopped him with a soft shove to his arm, making sure not to be too harsh since you didn't know how severe his injuries were. "But," he pushed your hand away from him, "Joel's a bit more old-fashioned in that way."

"I see," you nodded understandingly. Hearing this in connection to any other man would've probably made a chill run down your spine and the sick feeling of pure disgust bubble in your stomach, but for some reason, it didn't when it came to Joel. Tommy spoke so softly about him being s traditional gentleman, he made it sound good and proper. Not conservative and old. 

A nurse's voice, calling out for Tommy made you look up as he tried to get out of his chair. You offered to help him, but he brushed it off, telling you to 'wait here for Joel' with a wink before following the nurse down the hall.

-

Only a few minutes later, heavy footsteps stomped through the corridor, coming to a stop at the reception. Before the older Miller brother could even ask for information on Tommy, his eyes found you. Curled up on a chair, your eyes closed and your shoulders lifting and dropping in an even beat. With the time now being well over midnight, you had given into your body's pleas for sleep and found some form of comfort in the waiting room chair.

He tried to be as smooth as possible, getting into the chair right next to you, previously occupied by his brother, but even at the slightest sound, you jerked up, lifting your head to find him.

"Hey, sorry for wakin' you," Joel excused himself, brushing his hands over the top of his jeans. He had thrown them on even though they should probably already be in the wash and the shirt was wrinkled as he had fallen asleep in it. His unruly hair, messy and curly, showed the sleep you had woken him up from. But even in this state, which most would describe as dishevelled, he still managed to look good. He looked comfortable. Warm.

You shook your head with a tired smile, covering your mouth as a yawn escaped you. "It's okay."

"How long have been you here?"

"Ehm...," you tried to look around for the clock on the wall. 12:05. "Not too long, like 40 minutes or something."

He nodded, letting a sigh fall from his lips. "What happened?"

You rubbed your eyes, forgetting about the makeup you had put on a few hours before, but it probably was already smudged either way. Unsure if the story Tommy would tell would hold any truth or if he'd make up something, you decided to tell it in whole.

"There was a guy," you started, continuing to explain the entire situation to Joel, meeting his eyes a few times during the story, watching him go from annoyed, to concerned, to slightly irritated. He let you finish before asking further questions.

"Are you okay?"

You nodded, "Yeah. Just hit my back."

Joel frowned, "How?"

"I tried to get to Tommy after he got pushed to the floor, but that idiot threw me against a pole," you let him know, the scowl on his face only deepening. His wrinkles weren't just a sign of age. This man had been frowning too much in his life. Yet, it somehow suited him.

"You don't wanna get that checked? You sure you're okay?" He asked you further, but you just continued to nod.

"I drove here. I'm fine," you shrugged it off. Joel just sighed again, looking around the room before he continued.

"Anyone called the cops?"

"Probably," you answered him honestly. You didn't know for sure, but there was a high chance that you just got out quick enough. His deep breath in and out made you remember the reaction the two officers brought out of Tommy. "But I don't know. Maria said she'd handle it. My friend at the bar," you quickly added.

Joel glanced at you, his elbows digging into his thighs. "That's nice of her. Thank you." But you just nodded again.

Carefully, you decided to get closer. "Tommy mentioned something about a new job..."

"Yeah," the older brother sat himself up straight, letting himself fall back into the chair, "I got him a job at the company I work at. Just carpenter stuff, but... if they find out he was involved in a bar fight," he shook his head, "I don't know. My boss already took him in just because I practically begged him to."

"I see," you answered him, just letting him know you had been listening.

"Thank you for staying here with him. And for bringing him. And thanks to your friend for handling the whole police-" Joel began to ramble, but you were quick to stop him, subconsciously just putting your hand on his upper arm.

"It's okay," you smiled up at him, getting a thankful nod and soft smile in return.

It was only then it hit you.

Not only did this man have the responsibility of raising a nine-year-old girl, but he also was taking care of a man in his mid-to-late twenties. Letting him live with him, making sure he had a job, and picking him up from a hospital after a bar fight. You could see the tiredness on his face, and it didn't only have to do with the fact that he had to get up in the middle of the night. It was years old tiredness. You know it from your father. Carrying the world on his shoulders, dragging him, not letting him live to his full potential. The constant instinct to care and worry following his every step.

On one side, you couldn't help but find it attractive, his primal instict of protection, but on the other, you felt deeply sorry for him, you realised. If he hadn't been a met-three-times 'stranger' you would've offered him a hug. He looked like he could need one.

joel taglist: @corvusmorte @aniia-x3 @skysmiller @lizlil

pedro taglist: @leslieelainetrask @sidelnes

[itsokbbygrl]

Old Dogs and New Tricks

Summary: Sarah Miller has always loved her dad, maybe especially today. Years of long days at work and longer nights taking classes and studying have lead to this--his college graduation day. When the Miller family is interrupted during their impromptu picture time, Sarah thinks there might be one more person who could love her dad, too.

Word Count: 3k, one-shot

Rating: T (some swearing)

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader/OFC

Tags: FLUFF, TOOTH ROTTING FLUFF, BRUSH YOUR TEETH AND FLOSS AFTER THIS ONE!!!, mild swearing, Sarah Miller POV, briefly Joel Miller POV, likely some University of Texas at Austin graduation inaccuracies, adult learner gets his diploma yay, Uncle Tommy is an A+ wingman, almost zero description of reader aside from having hair long enough to tuck behind an ear, wearing a dress, and having a shimmering laugh, but Joel and Sarah both refer to reader as a woman and use she/her pronouns, no y/n, no 2nd person perspective, reader/OFC has an unspecified family outside of 1 sister

A/N: Helloooooooooo this is the first thing I've ever published here holy shiiiiiiit. I was scrolling on Pinterest for interior design inspo and came across this adorable photo and immediately went, "omg Joel and Sarah core."

So naturally, I had to write it and set it in the HBO TLOU timeline. Sarah is 10 and we're going to suspend our disbelief about the technology of the year 2000 a little bit okay??? Digital cameras were not that good and very expensive and most people still did not have cell phones, but THE MILLERS DO OK. Anyway without further ado, I give you that (not so) old man doing something adorable. I hope you like it! My DMs and inbox are always open (yes I lovingly refer to you all as my little chickens, come say hi to me!). Reblogs and comments are appreciated per usual. 💖 Banner and title card made by me with the help of Canva :)

Sarah loves a lot of things about her life–her soccer team, her fourth grade teacher, all of the friends she’s made in her 10 years of life–but if you asked her what she loved most of all, she would say her family, hands down. Her family is small–just she, her dad, and her uncle Tommy–but their love for each other is anything but. It’s been the three of them her whole life and she’s never felt like there were any missing pieces, until one fateful Saturday in May. 

Sarah has spent nearly her entire life being told how proud her dad is of her, but today is a day Sarah is determined to show her dad how proud she is of him. She knows he tries to hide how stressed he’s been the last few years, how tired, but she’s a smart girl and she, to her dad’s chagrin, notices everything. Sarah almost can’t contain her excitement for her dad as her uncle Tommy parks his truck in the vast expanse of the University of Texas at Austin’s football stadium parking lot. She hops out of the backseat and slams the door like Tommy taught her to make sure it closes all the way on its rusty old hinges, and then bends at her waist to brush any pesky wrinkles from her dress. She wanted to look extra nice for today, trying to tame her thick, curly hair by tying it back in a low bun and fashioning her favorite flower pin on the side, donning her favorite sundress and the sandals her grandma said were nice enough for Sunday church. If they were nice enough for grandma’s church, they were definitely nice enough for her dad’s graduation, she figured. 

Sarah finds Tommy around the front of the truck as he’s pulling their entry tickets from his wallet. “Here you go, kiddo,” he says, extending a ticket to her with a smile. She replies her thanks before following him towards the imposing stadium ahead. Tommy helps lead them through the crowd, consistently checking to make sure she’s still near, Sarah offering him a smile each time she catches him looking. Their seats are up high, in the top third of the stadium bleachers. Sarah thinks she hears Tommy mutter something about only getting good seats if you donate a bunch of money under his breath, but she isn’t sure what exactly he means, so she ignores it. 

“Do you know where dad’s going to be?” Sarah asks her uncle. She wants to know where to look, doesn’t want to miss a minute of this, and she’s dubbed herself unofficial photographer for the day, so she wants to make sure she knows where to point the camera at all times. 

“Not yet, honey. We’ll keep our ears open, they usually announce each college as they come in, so we’ll know when to look for your dad,” Tommy reasons. 

“Good plan,” Sarah nods in return, eyes focusing back on the field ahead. 

Once it appears the seats have nearly filled, Sarah checks her trusty watch and sees the time has just passed 2:00, the scheduled start time for today’s ceremony. As if she triggered it herself, her head perks up as the sound of brass instruments rings out through the stadium, signaling the start of the ceremony. She watches the entrance of students intently, hoping to catch a glimpse of her dad. 

Sarah turns in her seat and asks, “Uncle Tommy, can I have the camera, please?” 

Tommy fishes in his pocket and pulls out the requested camera, placing it in Sarah’s open palm. “Yup, got it right here. You gonna be on photography duty today?” Tommy chuckles as he watches Sarah’s brows pull together just like her dad’s as she fiddles with the buttons on the camera until the settings are to her liking. 

“You bet,” Sarah answers, poking her tongue between her teeth as she looks down at the small digital viewfinder. “Can’t see anything, gonna use the zoom and see if I can see any better through the screen.”

Tommy lets out a low whistle, “Smarty pants over here, did we forget your cap and gown? Shouldn’t you be down there?” He jokes and pokes her in the ribs to make her giggle. 

“Uncle Tommy! Stop!” She laughs. “I’m trying to focus!”

“Alright, alright, kiddo. I’ll let you focus. Let me know if you find him.”

“Aye aye, captain,” Sarah salutes in return, earning a chuckle out of her uncle. 

The McComb School of Business is announced and Sarah sits up a little straighter, refocusing her efforts to capture every important moment. She squints against the afternoon sun, determined to find her dad amongst the long line of pending graduates. 

“There!” she points and Tommy follows her finger, trying to find what she’s seeing. “See his hat? I told him he needed to put something on it so we could find him and he told me to go wild, so I did. I knew that orange glitter glue would come in handy.”

Tommy spots him then, laughing when Sarah shows him the picture she’s snapped on the little screen, Joel’s graduation cap adorned with orange glitter glue that reads, “This old dog learned new tricks,” accompanied by two clip art dogs pasted on opposite corners. 

“D’you come up with that all on your own, smarty pants?” Tommy asks her. 

“Sure did,” Sarah chuffs. “Dad always says, “You can’t teach an old dog new tricks,” when he doesn’t want to learn stuff like the camera or the computer, so I thought it would be funny,” she finishes with a shrug. Tommy silently laughs, his shoulders gently shaking, and Sarah smiles to herself. 

If there’s one thing Sarah will take away from this day it’s that graduation ceremonies are long and boring. There are about two minutes where she focuses intently as her dad’s row rises to make their way up to the stage. She diligently keeps the camera pointed his way, snapping pictures every so often. As he prepares to take the stage, she and Tommy stand from their seats. 

“Joel Alejandro Miller,” the announcer reads. Sarah and Tommy whoop and cheer as Joel crosses the stage, Sarah keeping the camera trained on her dad, making sure to press the shutter a few times as he shakes hands with the chancellor and receives his diploma. The rest of the ceremony goes by relatively uneventfully, until the graduates are instructed to stand and change their tassels from right to left. There’s a murmur through the audience and then the students erupt in a spirited rendition of, “The Eyes of Texas.” Sarah smiles as she watches the new graduates laugh and sing, throwing arms around friends and pointing to the sky. Once the song ends, the graduates then whoop and throw their caps into the air, and Sarah raises the camera once more to snap a couple final pictures. 

The crowd starts to dissipate, attendees making their way towards the exits to find their respective graduates. Sarah looks over the railing of the ramp as she and Tommy work their way down from their seats and watches as the mass of bodies move through the corridor, thinking about how they resemble a school of fish, almost liquid in the way they shift to accommodate obstacles in the hall. 

After a few minutes of shuffling, she and Tommy find the exit out of the stadium, heading towards the spot they designated to meet Joel after the ceremony. Sarah spots him first, poking Tommy in the arm and pointing his way. Tommy nods in acknowledgement, giving her the okay to head over. She looks both ways to make sure the coast is clear before breaking out in a jog. 

“Dad!” she calls, waving her arms to get Joel’s attention. His natural scowl drops the minute he sees her, face breaking out into a wide grin, and opens his arms as she rushes forward. Sarah meets him with force, earning a quiet, “Oof,” from her dad as she wraps her arms around his middle and hugs him tight. 

“You did it! I’m so proud of you!” Sarah tells him, not letting go, but tipping her head back to look him in the eyes. If she notices the extra glimmer along his waterline, she doesn’t say anything. He pulls her in tighter, giving her small shoulders a squeeze, and Sarah feels the deep rumble of his laughter in her cheek. 

“Thanks, babygirl. I’m so glad you came,” Joel tells her, rubbing up and down her back before letting her go from his embrace. 

“Hey old man, proud of you brother,” Tommy greets Joel with a smile and a hug, the brothers exchanging firm pats on the back before separating. Joel gives him a half smile and thanks him for coming and for bringing Sarah.

Sarah steps back from their little group and realizes her dad has already taken off his cap and gown, and that just won’t do. 

“Dad, where’s your hat and robe?” Sarah chides, putting her hands on her hips and giving him a serious look. 

“It was hot, so I took them off,” Joel answers. 

“Well, put them back on! We need to get pictures!” Sarah iterates, raising the camera in front of her dad’s face and giving it a shake. 

Joel sighs, but relents. “Alright, alright, gimme a second, kiddo, then you can play photographer.” They find an open spot on the lawn and Sarah powers up the camera again, using the viewfinder to ensure the shot is lined up just right. 

“Ok, 1, 2, 3…say, “Hook ‘em!”” Sarah says. 

Joel smiles and entertains his daughter’s request. “Hook ‘em!” he says, smiling for the camera. 

“Ok, this one, hold up your diploma,” Sarah requests and Joel again complies. “Can we do one more?” Sarah asks. 

Joel gives her a nod, “Sure thing, honey.”

“Ok, this one, do the Hook ‘Em horns,” Sarah says and she does the gesture with her own small hand. Joel mimics his daughter and smiles for the camera as she snaps the picture. She pulls up the recent shots and turns the camera towards her dad to review them together, unaware that they’ve been watched for the last few minutes. 

“Excuse me,” a soft voice interrupts Sarah and Joel from their scrolling and they look up to find a new member has joined their party. 

“Sorry, I don’t mean to interrupt, I just saw your daughter taking pictures and I thought y’all might want a few together?” Wow, pretty, Sarah thinks as she assesses the stranger. 

Joel clears his throat and Sarah turns her head to see her dad’s cheeks have flushed a new shade of pink as he stammers out a, “That’s awful kind of you, darlin’. Thanks for offerin’, we’d love that.” Sarah’s mouth ticks up into a smirk, the dimple she shares with her dad crescenting her cheek. She turns to Tommy and they share a knowing look. 

“Thank you, ma’am. You just press this button here,” Sarah hands over the camera and shows the pretty stranger how to operate it.

“Got it, thanks, sweetie,” she replies before bringing the camera’s viewfinder up to her eye and lining up the duo. “Ok, big smiles,” she says and clicks the shutter. She smiles and moves the camera away from her face for a moment to direct, “How about we get one with both of you showing us your best “Hook ‘Em” next,” before once again snapping the photo. “Alright, let’s do one more. Gimme your best silly faces!” and she lets out a shimmering laugh as she presses the shutter a final time. 

“Perfect,” she says to the small family, smiling and handing the camera to Joel, their fingers brushing briefly as the camera exchanges hands before both of their eyes lift to meet. Tension lingers only for a moment at the contact before they both let out breathy chuckles. The stranger lifts her hand and tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear, Joel’s gaze following the motion, Sarah’s gaze locked on her father. 

“This was real kind of you, darlin’. Thanks again for helping us out,” Joel says, trying to extend the moment just a little longer. 

“Oh, it was nothin’. My pleasure, really,” she replies in kind, waving him off, her gaze dropping shyly to the ground. “Well,” she continues, bringing her gaze back to Joel’s, “I better head back or my sister,” she turns her torso and gestures to where her party is standing and carrying on conversation, “will never let me hear the end of it, how I deserted her on her own graduation day after she spent torturous hours sitting through mine a few years back,” She chuckles softly and clasps her hands in front of her, kicking out one foot and cocking her hip slightly to the side. 

“Alright, s'pose we better let you get on back then,” Joel replies. Sarah catches a sadness in her dad’s eyes at their pretty stranger’s words. “Thanks again…I know, I know, I’ll stop,” he laughs when she gives him a stink eye at his persistent gratitude. “Have fun with your family. And pass on our congrats to your sister.”

“I will,” she nods before taking a visible breath and waving goodbyes to the three Millers. She turns and heads back towards her own family. Sarah watches her dad watch her the entire time she goes, turning to Tommy and sharing an unspoken conversation before Tommy breaks the silence. 

“Alright, brother, why don’t you say hi to your fancy college buddies before we head out. I’ll entertain the sprout for a few minutes. Then we can head out for ice cream,” Tommy says, pulling Sarah into his arms and giving her a soft noogie while she cringes good naturedly. 

“Uncle Tommy! Stop, you’re going to mess up my hair!” Sarah complains. Tommy relents and Joel eyes the pair suspiciously, but ultimately agrees. He gives the camera back to Sarah for safekeeping, and she dramatically tells him she’ll protect it with her life. He laughs before leaving the pair on the lawn to find a few of his classmates and professors. 

Once he’s out of eye and earshot, Sarah and Tommy form a quick plan and spring into action. 

It’s getting late, the sun set, the evening sky dark and air heavy with the remaining heat and moisture from the day. Joel is sat in his makeshift home office at his messy desk, camera in hand, flipping through the pictures Sarah took earlier in the day. She got some pretty good shots, rolling his eyes and shaking his head fondly when he realizes how gaudy his cap looked from the crowd. 

He gets to the pictures of he and Sarah together and smiles, loving how happy his little girl looks, how proud she clearly is of him, how much fun they have together. He tries and fails not to think of the beautiful woman who took those pictures earlier, of the jolt of electricity that zipped up his arm and ran through his heart when their fingers touched, and he especially tries not to think about how he never managed to get her name. 

Just when he thinks he’s gotten to the end, the silly faces he and Sarah made only hours ago staring back at him through the small camera screen, he notices the number in the upper righthand corner. 24/25. There’s one more. He flips to it curiously, finding a special face looking back at him. A wide toothy smile, hair still tucked behind one ear, gorgeous little sundress that should have been illegal to wear out in public, and…holding a piece of paper? There’s something written on there and Joel desperately wants to know what it says, but for the life of him, he can’t remember how Sarah told him to work the goddamn zoom. 

He flips to the picture before, of him and Sarah making silly faces, swallows his pride and prepares himself for the shit he knows he’s about to get from his daughter before bellowing out, “Sarah! Babygirl, can you come here, please? Need you to help me with the camera!”

Sarah bounds into the room, sly grin already plastered on her face. Joel holds out the camera and asks, “How do you work the zoom on this thing again?”

Sarah walks over to her dad and points out the buttons he needs to use. “These right here, the plus sign zooms in, the minus sign zooms out, and you use these,” she moves her finger down to the directional arrow buttons that form a small circle on the lower right side of the camera, “to move the picture around when you’re zoomed in. Make sense?”

“Clear as mud,” Joel replies, giving the buttons a try to make sure he has it before dismissing his daughter, thanking her for her help, and thinks he hears her mutter something about old dogs and new tricks as she leaves the room. 

Joel turns his head to make sure Sarah isn’t hanging around before flipping back to the last picture on the digital version of a camera roll. He does as Sarah instructed, presses the plus button until the picture is zoomed in enough that he can read the paper being held up to the camera. No fucking way. He blinks, squints, rubs his eyes, and looks again, but his eyes did not deceive him. Written on the paper in a looping scrawl is undeniably a phone number. Joel leans back in his chair and brings his hand up to his mouth before pulling it down and resting on his lap. He stares at the screen for a moment in disbelief before letting out a low chuckle. He looks away from the screen and over towards the office entrance again, thinking about Tommy and Sarah and their insistence to hang back and let Joel congratulate his classmates and thank his professors. 

“Son of a bitch,” Joel murmurs to himself. He shakes his head and looks back at the screen. He holds his gaze there for a minute, then one more, before he reaches into his pocket and pulls out his cell phone, punching in the number and hitting the green call button before he loses his nerve. 

The line rings once, twice, three times, and Joel thinks maybe this was a mistake, calling a relative stranger after a brief (at most) meeting, but then the ringing stops and a newly familiar voice answers with a soft, “Hello?”

Joel smiles as his anxieties drift away, “Hey, darlin’. Nice to hear your voice again.”

END

Tagging some friends who might be interested: @5oh5 @javierpena-inatacvest @swiftispunk @sawymredfox