#yeah sorry for this rambling but I had to get it out and I can tell no one else

[absurdthirst]

Words Unspoken {Joel Miller x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 17.4k

Warnings: Barter/trading, flirting, sexual tension, fingering, unprotected sex, cumming too quickly, oral sex (female and male receiving), soft moments, friends with benefits, cock riding, pregnancy scare, panic attacks, Joel is a little stubborn, suggestions of homophobia but Joel is just being stupid, estrangement, worry, comfort, canon events, heartbreak

Comments: The newcomer in town comes to your shop, hearing that you have coffee. Leading to trade and a years long relationship where so many words are left unspoken.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| MasterList || Joel Miller MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

You look up from your needle and thread, the bell ringing above your tiny shop on Main Street. That’s when you see him walk in. You’ve heard about the newcomer. The man who is Tommy’s long lost brother who turned up with a teenage girl in tow. “Hey, can I help you?” You ask, setting the needle and thread down on the table. He’s handsome, you’ve heard he’s a little standoffish but you’ve found that most people who have been traveling on the road for years struggle to settle into the world that most thought was dead and buried.

The shop is neat, clean. Sometimes the contrast between the squalor of Boston and Jackson is stark. Everyone here craves normalcy, the life before, so badly it makes you feel like you’re in a dream. Except his dream never involved communism, like he loved to tease Tommy about. It really grates on his nerves when he ribs him about that. He shifts slightly, looking towards you. Reminding himself that he needs to be nice, not try to glower his way into getting what he wants. “Hi, uh, you’re the seamstress, right?” He asks, even though he’s in right store. “Sorry, stupid question.” He huffs in amusement to himself. “I heard you had coffee.”

You tilt your head in amusement. He seems nervous and you have no idea why. “Yeah. You have no idea how many clothes I’ve had to sew to get it. There was an empty grocery store one state over and this group would come and trade with us. Turns out needlework isn’t that great in the end of times so my hands have come in pretty handy. My mom taught me everything and - sorry, I’m rambling. Coffee. What, uh, what have you got to trade?” You ask, knowing how this works. Nothing is free, even in these times.

Joel winces, unsure if you would accept his trade, but he wants to try. “Uh, myself.” He admits, realizing his mistake when your eyes widen. “My work, I mean.” He clarifies, glancing around the shop. “I’m a - was - a contractor, before.” He bobbles his head. No one is really anything now, beyond a survivalist. Although you are still a seamstress, it appears. “Tommy said you needed some shelves, racks for your thread and sewing stuff.” He shrugs. “Figured I could build it for you, for some coffee beans.”

You snort, “you must be really desperate for coffee, huh?” You tease and he chuckles awkwardly, “used to have a cup every morning before the world went to shit.” You nod in understanding, stepping closer to him. You hold your hand out, “you have a deal, Mr. Miller. When would you like to start?” You ask and he squeezes your hand, his fingers are calloused and you can feel how strong he is. “Now, if you want.” He offers and you smile, “better get to it. Half now. Half when you’re done.” You promise, stepping away from him and you turn to make your way into the little kitchen at the back of your shop. You come back a few moments later with a small bag of coffee beans. “First payment.”

He takes the bag and he can’t resist lifting it to his nose and inhaling deeply, groaning at the heavy, rich aroma of coffee beans. They are whole, so the richness will only get better once they are ground. “Best smell in the world.” He huffs when he notices you watching him with an amused smile.

“You’re a man of simple pleasure, Mr. Miller.” You chuckle and he shakes his head, “call me Joel.” You repeat his first name and insist he calls you by yours. “If you need anything fixed, just let me know.” You gesture to his clothes.

He nods, finding you pretty and charming, which makes him both relaxed and nervous at the same time. He sets the bag of coffee beans down and pulls out a little notebook and stubby pencil out of his jacket pocket, along with a measuring tape. “Do you have anything in particular in mind?” He asks, nodding towards the wall where fabric is haphazardly stacked.

You hum, walking over to the fabric. “Mostly display purposes. I can find all my shit when I need to but I want people to be able to come in and pick fabric and thread and buttons, you know.” You smile, “anything you can make would be better than what I have now.”

He nods seriously. “You need a thread display.” His brow furrows slightly as he bites his lip. “Boxes for the buttons.” He steps over and starts to measure as he talks. “Do you want cubbies for the fabric?” He asks. “Or shelves to stand them up?”

You bite your lip, watching him make some notes, “shelves. Nothing too fancy. Fabric is usually used or repurposed anyway.” You confess, “not like I have access to Michael’s or Joann’s.” You snort, “but I usually will find some fabrics when I do patrols.”

“You make quilts?” Joel asks, his back turned towards you. “Ellie, my- my Ellie, her birthday is coming up.” He tells you. “She’s got a bunch of old band t-shirts. A lot of them are falling apart, but she loves them.” He turns towards you. “Maybe you could turn them into a quilt?”

Your eyes widen and your heart melts at the request. He wants to get her a birthday present and you nod, unable to say no. “Absolutely. Sneak them out to me and I can get it done. When’s her birthday?” You ask and he tells you, “I’ll get it done by then.” You promise, knowing you want to see that soft look on his face again.

He smiles, happy to have secured a present that will thrill her. “She’s turning 14 this year.” He tells you. “So far, only teenage rebellion is that mouth of hers.” He snorts. “Cusses like a damn sailor.”

You snort, “oh yeah. I’ve heard. You’ve got your hands full there.” You pat his shoulder, “but everyone says you’re a good father.” You offer, making him soften a little more. “It’ll get worse. Teenage years are only just beginning. She’ll be screaming that she hates you but you shouldn’t take it to heart. You haven’t done anything, it’s just a rite of passage.”

He chuckles, knowing that it’s coming but he’s still looking forward to spending more time with Ellie. All he wants is for her to be happy. He’s done things, horrible things, so she can have this time, this life. The last thing he wants is for her to hate him. “I’ll get them to you.” He promises.

You smile, looking forward to seeing more of Joel as he builds your shelves and displays. He measures the wall and spends his time being exact. “I’ll, uh, let you know when I can come back and get everything up.” He promises and you nod, “of course. Coffee will be waiting.” You promise, “thanks for this, Joel. I’ll see you round.” He nods and puts his book away, “thanks for the coffee.” He murmurs, picking up the small bag and leaving your shop while you watch him go, already wondering when he will come back.

****

It takes Joel three days to build the display for the thread that he had envisioned. Traded for the supplies and spent hours in the garage to make sure that the spindles were right. The shelves are going to be built on site, but he wanted these already done so you could organize them, along with the button boxes he had built. Borrowing a wagon to cart everything over to your shop when he’s ready to install them.

You bite your lip as you watch Joel install the shelves. His muscles flexing under his t-shirt and you try to not act as hot and bothered as you are. He’s a handsome man, capable, and clearly a survivor. All traits that have had you daydreaming about him since he first came into your shop. “How’s that?” Joel asks, brushing his hands together as he steps back to admire the shelving. “It’s perfect.” You gasp, excited to put the fabric on display. “Thank you so much.” You surge forward to wrap your arms around his neck.

He stumbles back only a step, hands automatically finding your waist to steady both of you. “You’re welcome.” He murmurs softly, letting you hug him and leaning into it slightly. He’s better about being more approachable, and he’s not going to turn down a hug from a woman as pretty as you are. “Definitely worth the coffee, huh?” He jokes.

You pull back for a moment, looking at him and you grin, “I don’t know, Miller. I think there’s one more thing you gotta do for the coffee.” You murmur, sliding your hands down his chest and he frowns, “are the shelves not good enough or-?” He asks and you shake your head. “The shelves are perfect. If you want more coffee…you can fuck me.” You say, biting your lip and praying he doesn’t reject you.

“You don’t have to-“ he starts to refuse you, to tell you that you don’t have to barter your body, until he sees the hopeful look in your eyes. Vulnerability and attraction warring in their depths and he realizes that you want him. The coffee is just a handy excuse to open up the possibility. “Anyone would be fuckin’ privileged to be in your bed.” He huffs quietly. “Are you sure you want me? It’s been a few years for me, and I’m not sure how good I’ll be.” His knees and back kill him on most days but he’ll go down swinging.

You chuckle, sliding your hand up to caress his neck. “Me too. I haven’t - no one has caught my eye here until you came along. You’re handsome, Joel. Shit, you’re really, uh, really hot, and I really want you to fuck me. Coffee or no coffee.” You promise, gaze flicking down to his lips. He swallows like he can’t believe what he’s hearing and you decide to make the next move, leaning in slowly to brush your lips against his.

The kiss is soft, intimate. He doesn’t deepen it right away. Absorbing the moment and letting you press closer. Learning how you fit against him as his arms slowly slide around your back. His cock twitches in his jeans when your tongue touches his lips, immediately opening and letting his own explore as the natural progression of the kiss happens.

He’s hesitant, which isn’t unexpected, but you know there’s a dominant lover beneath the surface. He likes to be in control. You cup his cheek, sliding your tongue against his, and you can’t stop the moan that you breathe into his mouth, pressing your chest into him while his hands tentatively slide down to your ass, dragging you even closer.

Your little moan is sexy, and he grunts as your breasts push against his chest. Tasting you, you had coffee earlier, as his tongue slowly slides against yours before he breaks away to kiss along your jaw. “Where’s your bedroom, honey?” He growls softly. “Woman like you deserves to be spread out.”

You reluctantly pull back, taking his hand in yours to guide him to the stairs. Up to your bedroom. The little apartment upstairs is small enough for you and he barely has a second to look at your couch before you pull him into your bedroom. You waste no time spinning around to press your lips to his again, your fingers finding the hem of his shirt to drag it over his head. He lets it drop to the floor and you work on his belt. In your rush, you accidentally rip one of the loops. “I’ll fix that for you.” You promise between kisses to his lips as you pull the belt free and toss it to the floor.

He chuckles against your lips. “Good thing I know a seamstress.” His own fingers start to work. Pulling your own shirt over your head and fumbling with the clasp of your bra. Still kissing you breathlessly as his own eagerness leads to a little haste.

He’s clumsy and fumbles but you don’t care. You’re out of practice too. You let your bra drop to the floor and he groans when your tits are exposed. His calloused hands immediately cupping them, and you tilt your head back, “God, Joel. Your hands. Watching you work - I’m so wet from just watching you.”

He smirks in pride, fingers twisting the hard tips of your nipples and pulls a sexy little whine out of you. Obviously enjoying a touch of roughness in your sex life. “Imagined my hands on you, honey?” He coos, pinching and tugging as he steers you back towards the bed. “How do they feel?”

“So goddamn good.” You moan and shift to lay down on your bed. You watch him as he reluctantly releases you, bending down to untie his boots and he stumbles as he pulls them off. You giggle, sliding your hand up to squeeze your own breast, and you look at him, “I want your hands on every inch of my body.”

That won’t be a problem for him. Joel loves to touch a lover. It’s been a long time, Tess was the last woman he had been with. His heart aches for a moment but he pushes that away, concentrating on you as he kicks away the jeans and underwear he was wearing and kneels on the bed to slide his hands up your spread legs. “Pretty body.” He hums, cock twitching. “What do you want first?” He asks, hand trailing over your thighs to brush through the curls covering your pussy.

Your eyes trail down to his cock, hardening and you lick your palm before wrapping your fingers around him. You slowly jerk him and he grunts, his fingers sliding through your folds. You whimper at the sensation. It’s been too long since you were touched. “I want your fingers inside me. Imagined it so many times when you were building the shelves. Wanna cum on them.”

He lays down beside you, letting you touch him while he learns how to make you gasp in pleasure as his fingers slide through your folds and press against your clit. He’s not a stranger to his needs, he doesn’t ignore them, but it’s been a long time since a hand other than his own has been wrapped around his cock. “Then I better make it good, right?” He teases as he slowly starts to press a finger inside you while he leans down to kiss along your shoulder up to your lips.

You moan when his finger pushes into you, another joining it on the next pump to stretch you out. "Fuck, Joel." You sigh when he kisses along your neck. Your lips meet his as you squeeze his cock, loving the way he hardens in your grip. "Knew those fingers would feel good." You murmur, flicking your tongue against his lips, licking his lower lip until his tongue meets yours in a combined groan.

He doesn’t rush this, slowly pumping his finger in and out of your tight pussy. Loving how wet you are, getting wetter every time his finger curls up inside you. Another finger is added a few minutes later, pulling another moan out of you and you squeeze his cock roughly.

You spread your legs a little wider, chest heaving as you moan into his mouth when he curls his fingers. His wrist twisting so he can press his thumb to your clit. “Shit. Feel so good. Can’t imagine what this is gonna feel like inside me.” You murmur, pumping his cock and his lips kiss down your neck until he’s taking your nipple into his mouth.

Joel groans, not pulling away to answer you. You’ll find out soon enough, and he’ll be feeling your tight, hot walls around him. Hopefully he won’t embarrass himself by giving you a poor performance. His tongue flicks over your nipple and his teeth scrap over the sensitive bud, making you gasp again. He smirks and looks up at your face as he sucks.

Your eyes meet his, a lust filled, playful stare that has you clenching around his digits. “Fuck. You’re so - yes. Just like that.” You pant when he puts more pressure on your clit. “Yes, baby. Shit. Gonna make me cum like this.” You choke when he presses his fingers against the spongy spot inside you. “Shit. Yessss.” You hiss, walls squeezing his fingers as you cum for him.

Joel groans, pulling off your tit to watch you cum. “That’s it, that’s it honey, ride it out.” He coos, his voice gruff but soothing as he continues to pump his fingers in and out of your pulsing pussy. “So fuckin’ pretty when you’re cummin’.” Your grip on his cock is loose, but he twitches against your palm, loving how your entire body shakes in pleasure for him.

You love his voice, love how he twitches in your palm, so you reach out to push his hand away. He grunts in protest but you push on his chest, "lay down. I wanna-" You cut yourself off when he lays on his back and you shift to kneel between his legs. Gripping his cock, you lean in to run your tongue along the underside of it. "You're thicker than I imagined, Miller...and I imagined this a lot." You confess, flicking your tongue over the slit where a bead of pre-cum threatens to slide down his reddened skin.

“Fuck.” He hisses, lifting his head to look down at where you are kneeling between his thighs. Your eyes fixed on him. “Fuck.” His head falls back, hitting your pillow as you take the head of his cock into your mouth. Blow jobs have always been rare, but this is overwhelming and your mouth has barely touched him. “You don’t- fuck, honey.” He groans, reaching down and cupping your cheek as you hum, his eyes closed in pleasure. “Goddamn.”

You smile as you pull off of him, wrapping your fingers around him, and you let your spit dribble down onto the head, aiding you as you start to pump him. "You really need to stop." He warns you in a growl, and you huff. "Fine. Next time I want you to cum in my mouth." You order, letting go of his cock to straddle him. You moan as his cock presses between your folds, the head leaking onto his belly. "Fuck. You're so hot." You murmur, starting to rock your hips to grind onto his cock.

Joel chokes out a laugh, a quiet, disbelieving thing as he grabs your hips. “Don’t know ‘bout that, but I know you want to ride my cock.” He pulls you forward, making you tip over towards him and his lips press against yours. “So ride me, and then I’ll fuck you.” He needs to be on top so he can pull out, but there’s no harm in letting you start out how you want.

You moan into his mouth, reaching back to grip his cock so you can position him at your entrance. You slowly sink down onto him, lips smothering his groan as he stretches you out. "Fuck me." You mutter in disbelief of how good he feels. "I think that's what you're gonna do to me first." He chuckles and you nod, bracing your palms on his chest as you start to grind your hips.

Joel groans your name, slightly breathless as you roll your lips and your liquid hot walls squeeze him tight. “Fuck, honey.” His fingers dig into your hips, but he doesn’t try to guide you or change your slow grind. He loves it, needs you to keep it just this slow because his control is already slipping.

You whimper, loving how he feels like he’s in your guts right now. His calloused fingers squeezing your flesh, and you shift onto your knees, starting to bounce on his cock. “Oh fuck.” You throw your head back, “you feel so good.”

You look so beautiful, head tossed back and so unapologetically taking what you want. One hand slides up to cup your breast as you bounce on his cock. “Goddamn.” He hisses when your walls clench down around him. “Take what you want.” He encourages you, squeezing your tit.

You love it, love how those dark eyes watch you before flicking down to watch his cock disappear inside of you. "Fuck baby." You pant, switching back to grinding so you can rub your clit on the coarse hair at the base of his cock. "It's so good." You pant, "want you to take over. Fuck me like you want."

Joel hisses in pleasure and nods once. Lunging up as he wraps his arm around your body to flip you over onto your back. He doesn’t manage to stay inside you, but before you can even whine about it, he’s pushing back inside you and grinding deep with a moan.

You wrap your legs around his hips, crossing your ankles as he starts to push into you. "Feel so fucking good, baby. That's it." You pant, reaching up to squeeze his shoulders.

He braces his hands and sets his knees as he starts to rock into you. The sharp snaps of his hips are a little harder than he might have once wanted, but the way your legs press him urges him on. “Fuck.”

You caress his back, trying to touch every inch of skin you can. You moan when his lips find your neck, hot puffs of air on your skin between kisses and bites. "Fuck. I- shit." He curses and you can feel him twitch inside you. You lower your legs from his waist, "it's okay. It's okay." You promise, "cum for me. Wanna see it."

He had been trying to hold off, to last longer than the pitiful few minutes he had been inside you. “Fuck.” He groans, the buildup coming and not even thinking about something boring will stop it. His hips rock forward halfway before he’s scrambling back, pulling out of you and wrapping his hand around his cock to pump it. Holding onto your knee as he spurts ropes of his seed across your belly as he groans in frustration and pleasure.

You watch him with lust swirling in your eyes. "Fuck that's hot." You murmur, batting his hand away so you can slowly pump him through his orgasm. "So-sorry." He gasps out a moment later and you click your tongue. "Don't worry about it, Miller. You'll make it up to me." You know he will, he's not an asshole who's gonna be selfish every time.

He chuckles, aware that is true and he looks down at your cum covered body. “True.” He tilts his head to the side and glances down at your pussy, the curls damp and glistening with arousal and his seed. “Gonna make it up right now.”

You gasp when his tongue slides through your folds after he shifts to lay down on his belly. "Fuck!" You cry, tangling your fingers in his hair, "oh God that feels good." You lift your leg onto his shoulder as he sucks on your clit. "Won't take me long." You promise, already worked up from him fucking you.

He hums, not caring if you take a long time to cum. He has never minded eating a woman out, he loves it. Groaning as he tastes you, flicking his tongue against your clit before he takes it back into his mouth. Trying to devour you whole as he holds onto your thighs as they frame his head.

His jaw seems to engulf you and you pant, tilting your head back as he devours you. “Oh shit.” You pant, tugging on his hair as if he can get any closer. “Goddamn baby. You’d have every woman in Jackson lining up if they knew how good you ate pussy.” You confess breathlessly.

He chuckles into your folds, dark eyes watching your face as he sucks on your clit again, fingers digging the flesh of your thighs. He might leave bruises under your skin but he’s not even aware of how tight he’s holding onto you. Obsessed with hearing your breathless cry as he makes you cum again. You deserve it for even letting him in your bed. “Cum for me, honey.” He orders roughly before he dives back in with a frenzied desire to see you cum. 

His command is too good to deny. Your back arching as your thighs squeeze his head. His name is a garbled scream that escapes your lips as you soak his face. "Oh ohhh." You choke, stomach clenching as your orgasm rocks through you.

Joel laps up every drop, groaning into your pussy as he takes you through it. His tongue flicking against your clit just to have you shake and whimper more as you start to slowly drift back to reality after seeing the stars. He’s smug, proud that he could make you cum, even if he didn’t last as long as he wanted. If there’s a next time, he’ll make sure you cum all over his cock. One last kiss to your clit, he pulls back and rests his cheek on your thigh as he looks at you. “Make up for it?”

You giggle, nodding your head as you try to catch your breath. You run your fingers through his hair and smile softly, "more than made up for it." You promise and you lower your thighs from his shoulders. He shifts to lay down next to you, his cum now dry on your skin, and you turn your head to look at him. "my shower won't stay hot for more than a few minutes...any chance you can come over tomorrow and check it out?"

He smirks, his hand sliding up and down your side as he leans over you. “Think I can do that.” He agrees, tilting his head playfully. “Gotta earn that next batch of coffee.” He knows that this can’t be more than a passing fancy for you, he’s damaged and often sullen. Even his own brother calls him a grump on the best of days. Still, he will enjoy this while it lasts.

You hum, shifting off the bed after pecking his lips. "Flick one bean to get another." You joke and as you grab your panties and pull them up, walking into your bathroom to wash his cum from your skin. "You wanna get me those shirts and I'll start on Ellie's quilt?" You ask and he grunts as he sits on the edge of your bed. "Sure thing." You step back into your bedroom, robe wrapped around you, "and give me those jeans so I can fix your belt loop before you go." You smirk and he nods, "yes ma'am." You chuckle, "I have a feeling this is going to be the start of something very satisfying." You wink, picking his pants up and you don't redress as you take them to your sewing table. Joel watches you go, wondering when you'll be tired of him, but for now, he's going to enjoy every second.

****

Two Years Later:

Stepping into the shop, Joel flips the sign on the door to ‘Closed’ before twisting the lock. You aren’t in the front, making him frown as he looks around. The sewing shop has changed a lot in the past year, he had even managed to bring back a few mannequins from a deserted clothing store he had found on patrol. They are displaying some of the clothing you had repaired and were offering for trade. Calling your name, he shifts slightly and wonders if you are busy. “Where you at?”

You poke your head out from the kitchen, a grin appearing on your face as you walk towards your lover. You immediately wrap your arms around his neck, dragging him towards your face so you can kiss him. "Mmm, perfect timing. I just finished Ellie's present." You hum against his chin.

“You didn’t have to do that.” Joel hadn’t asked if you would make Ellie something, you had volunteered. “Uh, what are you making?” You had kept it a secret and he sniffs the air. “Cake?”

You nod, "yeah. Since Seth fucked up last year, I figured I'd take it into my own hands." You smile, "made sure I spelled her name right." You giggle, "was that - was that okay?" You ask, wanting to make sure you didn't overstep.

“That’s….great.” He smiles at you, hands squeezing your waist. “Not only do you have perfect hands for sewing, you bake.” He groans at the thought of a slice. “And it smells like it’s gonna be amazing.” He chuckles. “Maybe I’ll get a piece this year if Ellie doesn’t dive in headfirst.”

You chuckle, remembering the story of her digging straight in. "I also have perfect hands for something else." You murmur, smirking as you kiss his jaw, your fingers playing with the longer curls at the base of his head.

You haven’t gotten tired of him, much to his everlasting surprise. This thing between you is uncomplicated. Both of you use the other, for comfort, companionship, sex. You are friends, and had the end of the world not happened, it would have been labeled a friends with benefits thing, but Joel just calls it spending time together. “Yeah?” He hums as his already hardening cock grinds against your belly. “Needing a little distraction, huh?”

You nod, "to stop myself from licking the frosting bowl clean." You confess, bringing your fingers to his lips. "Still tastes so sweet." You hum when he immediately takes your digits into his mouth, swirling his tongue to sample the sweet taste. "Sweet but I know of something else that tastes sweeter." You smirk and cup his cheek with your damp fingers, "better come upstairs and eat it then."

He chuckles and slaps your ass when you turn around. “Good thing I already locked the door.” He tells you as you guide him towards the stairs again. The path is familiar, well known. He can't count the number of times he’s climbed these stairs to your bedroom. Now, he’s already pulling his flannel shirt out of his jeans, flicking open his belt. Watching your ass as you shake it in front of him playfully. “Goddamn, you look good in those jeans.”

You smirk, “thanks. Tailored them from a pair I found on patrol, left in a drawer.” You reveal, already pulling your shirt over your head. You’re hungry for Joel, and he does such a good job of making sure he never leaves your bed without satisfying you. Sure, others have asked you out - those who don’t see the way Joel looks at you - but you never say yes. You’re happy with what you have with Joel…even if it will never become anything more.

He grunts. “Next patrol, you should go with me.” He makes it sound casual, but he has talked to Tommy about limiting your runs and putting you with better people than you’ve been riding with. Worry starting to creep into his thoughts every time you go out. “Spend some time together outside the walls.” He adds, sweetening the offer.

You’re surprised by the offer, nodding your agreement. “Sure. I’d like that.” You murmur, turning to face him when you enter your bedroom. You pull him closer, working on unbuttoning his shirt. You huff in frustration when his lips press against your neck, ripping it open and buttons go flying. “I’ll put those back on before you go.” You promise.l, caressing his chest.

He laughs, body relaxing slightly at the way you are so eager. “You always do.” He teases, pushing your hands away and nodding to the bed. “Undress yourself and lay down.” He orders. “Need to have to wear something home today and can’t have you rippin’ all my clothes.”

You giggle, watching him as he pulls his belt free. “I just like giving you an excuse to come back here.” You confess, pulling your shirt over your head while he strips down. You toss your bra to the floor and unbutton your jeans just as he pushes his briefs down. “Never get tired of that.” You confess, eying his hardening cock.

He rolls his eyes, wrapping his hand around his cock and pumping it a few times, his grip loose. “Show me that pussy, honey.” He demands, eyes darkening as they roam over your body. “Want to see heaven.”

You shiver at his words, sweetened with that ghost of an accent, and you do as he says. Spreading your legs while your eyes watch him. Your cunt exposed to the cool air of the room, already wet with need for him. “Please Joel.” You whimper, sliding your hand down to rub your finger through your folds.

“Shiiiiit.” He twitches in his hand and lets go to kneel on the bed. “You want to ride?” He always asks, but you shake your head. “Good.” He winks at you as he grabs an ankle and drags you towards him. “I wanna be on top today.” He teases, using the same voice you use when you bounce on his cock.

“Fuck.” You pant, loving how he takes control, and you watch him as he positions his cock on your mound, the tip of him on your belly button. “Shit. Looks so big like that.” You confess, reaching down to rub your fingertip over the slit, gathering up the drop of pre-cum. He groans and slips back, slapping the head against your clit. “Joel. Don’t tease.” You whine, rocking your hips to try and push him inside you.

“Hush.” He chides, giving you a look that makes you pout at him. “You know I’m gonna take care of you.” He always does, even if he cums before you do. In his defense, it’s only happened a couple of times. “Somethin’s got you riled up and needy today.” He lifts your leg to his shoulder and lines up, sinking in slowly as he presses your leg back. “You good?”

Your mouth falls open, a silent nod as you take every inch he feeds into your pussy. “So fucking good.” You promise, sliding your hands up to cup your breasts. “Can feel you in my guts.” You tell him, eyes closing at the stretch.

He grunts as he bottoms out inside you, feeling your walls flutter around him. “Good thing you like that.” He pants, leaning down and pressing his lips to yours as he moves down to his elbows. “You’re still as tight as the first time I slid inside you.”

You moan as he pushes against a spot inside you only he can ever seem to find when he presses your knee into your chest. “Do kegels for you.” You tease and he snorts, “the fuck are those?” You smirk, “this.” You clench down around him, “and this.” You clench down in successive squeezes.

“Fuck…” Joel closes his eyes, biting his lip as he tries to control himself. “Yeah- those- keep fuckin’ doin’ those.” He pants out, nodding his head as you giggle. “Goddamn.”

You pull him closer, wrapping your arms around his neck to press your lips to his. He shifts, bracing his weight on his hand next to your head as your tongues meet. You never get tired of sex with him. It always feels good no matter how many times you do it.

Joel kisses you passionately, conveying things that he never says. Needs he never voices. He’s never really been a big word kind of man, he’s always believed actions are the measure of a man, so he shows you. Groaning into your mouth as he starts a steady and proven pace. One that makes you come apart for him, but lets him draw out his own end.

“Oh God.” You pant against his chin, “I love it. You always - shit - look after me.” You ramble a little as he works you up. His cock pushes deep as his weight presses your leg into your chest. He grunts, reaching for your other leg, mirroring the position, and you cry out at the new angle. “Oh shit. Yeah. Just like that baby. Shit. That’s - uh, that’s gonna make me cum. Don’t stop.”

Joel pants as he pushes deep. “Not gonna.” He huffs. “Cum for me and then I’m gonna cum on your ass.” He still pulls out, not trusting the chance of staying inside you. “Fuck, honey, cum for me.” Your pussy is pulsing around him and he can feel the way your legs are tensing. “Soak me, wanna feel it.”

You can’t deny him anything when he asks you like that. You pant, nodding frantically as you grip the pillow behind your head. “Oh fuckkkk.” You squeal, thighs shaking as you clamp down on his cock. Your eyes squeeze shut and you soak him while your toes curl behind his head.

He growls out your name, loving how wet you get. The gushing and squelching sound amplifying as he fucks you through it. Thrusting half a dozen more times until he’s pulling out of you and dropping your legs down to flip you over onto your stomach. You moan, pushing your ass up and he slides back into you with a rough thrust that has both of you groaning.

You’re still shaking from your orgasm as his hips hit your ass. Joel groans, looking down at the shaking flesh and his hand grabs your cheek. He slaps it and you moan, burying your face in the sheets. “Yes, baby. Do that again.” You plead and he chuckles, slapping your ass again. Your walls squeeze his cock when he does it and he smirks, “oh you like that.” You huff, “you know I do, asshole.”

He smirks as he slaps the other cheek again. You love when he’s a little rougher and he sometimes gives you that, although he prefers to be gentle with you. This is about giving each of you want you need from each other and right now, his hand connects with your ass again and again as he fucks you harder. “Cum again.”

You moan when he pushes deep, and you know his back must be hurting, but he is fucking you like it’s the last thing he will ever do. “Shit, baby. I’m gonna - you’re gonna - fuck fuck fuck.” You rush out until you choke, clamping down on his cock again.

Joel groans, feeling his own orgasm rush over him and he’s pulling back quickly, hating that he couldn’t get another thrust in. Quickly jerking his cock as he grabs your ass and squeezes it. “Fuuuuuuuuuck.” He growls, painting your ass and lower back with his spend. “Fuck.” He huffs when the waves slow down and he languidly pumps out the last spurts before he’s done. “Goddamn, it’s always so good.”

You hum, looking over your shoulder at him, “it’s why I keep you around.” You tease breathlessly. You flop your head onto the sheets, unable to move because of how hard he fucked you. He shuffles off your bed, reaching for the rag you keep for cleaning up and he wets it in the bathroom before gently wiping you clean. “Thanks babe.” You murmur, “I better get to work fixing your shirt.” You smirk, shifting to lay on your back and he lays down next to you so you swing your leg over his hips, caressing his chest.

“Gotta patrol tomorrow.” Joel tucks an arm behind his head and his other hand caresses your leg idly. “Wanna see if I can find a tool store within a hundred miles.” Construction has been booming in Jackson, fortification being made to the walls. All of it requires tools. “Want me to see if I can find any fabric stores?”

You hum, caressing his chest, "only if you see something. Don't go out of your way." You murmur, "oh and I made Ellie a new strap for her guitar." You smile, "and the cake of course."

“That’s perfect.” He promises, amazed that you had gone so far as to make something else for the girl he thought of like a daughter. “I hope she likes it. Spent a lot of time workin’ on it.”

"I still haven't heard you play. I know you're teaching her." You remember him telling you how he's teaching her the chords. He snorts, "you don't wanna hear me. I'm rusty." You roll your eyes, "humble as he is hot." You shift to sit up and look down at him. "One day?" You ask, hoping he will play for you. He stares at you for a moment, "one day." You nod, satisfied with that answer. You won't ever push Joel for more, that would push him away forever.

**** 

“You okay?” Joel glances behind him, watching as you settle in on your horse. The temperature is perfect so the jackets are already stowed and the sun is shining down on the two of you. It’s the first trip outside the walls together and he is a little worried that something will happen.

You look up at the sky, closing your eyes as the sun warms your face. “I’m good.” You open your eyes and look at him with a soft smile on your face. “You look good on a horse.” You tell him and he chuckles, “you think I look good in anything.” You hum, “because it’s true and I’m always right.” You tease and he opens his mouth to protest. “Nah ah ah, baby. Happy life, happy…end of the world lover slash friend not wife or even girlfriend.” You giggle, shifting on top of the horse.

He nearly chokes on his words, grunting as he turns back towards the road to look around. He doesn’t know if you want something like a label on this thing between you. It’s never seemed to be a priority. Something he had appreciated for awhile, now it just left him confused. “Whatever you say.” He settles on that for his answer and he can hear you roll your eyes behind him. “How far out have you gone on patrol?” He asks.

You nudge your horse to catch up with him, “relax, Miller. I’m just joking. We are - we are us.” You decide and he nods, “whatever you say.” He repeats and you snort, glancing at him before you focus on the road. “I’ve been pretty far. I, uh, I actually found something that you might want to show Ellie. I wanted to wait until we were out here and her birthday is next week.” You murmur, hoping he likes your idea.

He tilts his head, interested in what it could be. “Yeah?” He asks, smiling when you nod eagerly. “Show me.” He motions for you to take the lead. It’s pretty incredible how thoughtful you are to think of Ellie. You’re generous and kind, things that he tries to be. Especially now. He is slowly starting to heal. “Maria wanted to know if you wanted to come over for dinner.” She had basically demanded that Joel bring you or she would drag you there herself. “Next Friday.”

Your eyes widen and you turn to look at him but he’s staring ahead. “She’s thinkin’ about getting a new wardrobe.” He jokes and you snort, “yeah. We can go on a girl’s day to Sears.” You chuckle and he shakes his head, taking a moment until he asks, “well? You wanna come?” You nod, looking at him, “yeah. I do.” You respond, heart fluttering in your chest. “Come on. Keep up.” You nudge your horse and start to ride faster, showing him the place you’d found for Ellie. “Wait up.” He huffs, following you until you come to a stop. “What do you think?” You ask, grinning excitedly at him.

“Holy shit.” Joel is stunned, eyes wide as he stares up at the statue. “It’s-“ he looks over at you and then back at the sight in front of him. The giant t-Rex is honestly amazing to see still standing as the foliage hasn’t completely reclaimed the area. “It’s amazing. She’s gonna lose her shit.” He predicts with a grin.

“Oh there’s more.” You grin, “we made sure it was cleared out.” You nudge your horse and make your way through the brush until you’re outside the museum. “Come on. I’ll show you what’s really gonna blow her mind.” You grin, swinging off your horse to tie her up.

“Holy shit.” Even though Boston had plenty of museums, all of them were outside the quarantine zone. Any of them inside had long been stripped of any historical value, most often for personal gain. This looks untouched. His eyes are wide and he knows that she will lose her mind if she gets to spend a day here. “It’s clear?” He asks, wanting to be certain before you go in.

You nod, “we checked it last week.” You confirm, “so should still be clear unless any found their way in.” You doubt it but you always need to double check. You take his hand, guiding him to the door which is pulled open and you watch his expression as he takes in the sight of the museum. A glimpse into a place long deserted but preserved.

“I used to take Sarah to museums.” He tells you as he walks through the abandoned halls. Dusty, dirty glass still showcasing odes to history almost forgotten. Only talked about by those who still remember it or are learning about it. “There were some good ones. She loved the natural science sections.” He chuckles as he looks back at you. “Wished she lived in the time of the dinosaurs when she was younger.”

You smile, seeing his eyes glaze over like they always do when he talks about his daughter. “I wish I could’ve met her.” You murmur, reaching out to squeeze his hand and he squeezes back, brought back to you from memories of Sarah. “Ellie is obsessed with space which is perfect because-” You guide him into a hall where a planetarium is displayed above. “It works but it needs some WD40.” You smile and he nods, letting you guide him, “and this. I think she’s gonna lose her mind.” You gesture to the Apollo capsule.

“She’s gonna lose her mind?” He snorts as he steps closer, in awe of the capsule and the ingenuity it took to put man in outer space. “Yeah, this blows away the recording of the mission that I managed to find her.” He looks over at the displays of the suits and chuckles. “She’s gonna want to pretend she’s being launched into space.” He predicts, pulling you close and kissing your lips. “Thank you for this.” He hums. “She’s gonna love it. I love it.”

You grin, loving his praise and the thought of Ellie loving her present. "she can listen to the mission and be inside the capsule. I checked it out. Oh and there's a helmet in the display but I didn't want to break the glass. I wanted you both to see it as it would've been." You confess, "you wanna see inside? It's awesome." You open the capsule and crawl inside, "come on, baby." You gesture for him to come inside.

Joel drops his backpack and follows you inside, closing the door of the capsule and dropping down into one of the seats. “Surprisingly big.” He hums, although it would be considered cramped with more than two people inside. The sunlight streams in from the small window as he looks over at you. “She’s gonna need half a day to press all the buttons.” He grins at you. “Just like I know you did.” He knows you had to play around when you were in here and he flicks one of the switches just to say that he had.

You giggle, leaning back into the seat as you look up at the buttons. "It's insane to think people went to space in this. They must've been shitting themselves." You ponder and he snorts, "of course." You look at him, admiring the soft smile on his face and that look in his eyes that tells you how he feels even if he can't say it. "You reckon the astronauts that went to space fucked in these?" You ask, tilting your head.

“Women weren’t on missions until later.” He reminds you with a smirk. “Although I guess anything’s possible.” He looks up as if he was looking into the sky. “There was probably definitely fucking on the International Space Station.” He jokes. “Called it foreign relations.”

You snort, “well…we could have Jackson relations.” You tease, shifting out of the seat and you move fast to straddle him. “A different kind of blast off.” You smirk, caressing his chest as you lean in to kiss his jaw.

His furrowed brow quickly changes to one of surprise and then amusement as his lips curve and his hands find your ass. “Is that right?” He asks, grunting when your teeth nip his skin. His cock is already responding to you pressing against him, the subtle grind of your hips always getting him going. “It’s gonna have to be you doing the work.” He reminds you softly.

You nod in understanding, “I know, baby.” You murmur, kissing along to his ear and you bite down on his ear lobe, making him moan. You love how he groans and his fingers dig into your ass. “That’s it, baby.” You murmur, reaching down to unbutton his jeans, reaching in to pull his hardening cock from his pants.

You always know what to do, how to touch him. He loves that you are always so eager. There’s not been one time that he’s needed you that you have turned him away and he’s done the same. Neither of you starting now. “Take your pants off and sit on my cock, honey.” He coos gruffly.

You let go of his cock, shuffling back to unbutton your jeans and you curse as you hit your head on the top of the capsule as you try to shimmy your jeans down your thighs. When they are below your knees, you straddle him again and reach down to grip his cock. He grunts and slips his hand down to pull your panties aside. You position him at your entrance and slowly sink down onto him.

“Fuck.” Joel hisses quietly, twitching as you lower yourself down until your ass is pressed to his thighs. “So tight, so hot.” He praises softly, as if he was afraid someone would hear him. Not that it was possible with being so isolated. He grips your hips as rocks up into you slightly.

You whimper, rocking your hips down onto his cock. You love how he stretches you out, your head dropping to press your forehead to his. “Always feel so good. Never get tired of this.” You murmur, closing your eyes in bliss. “Wish you could stay inside me forever.”

Joel groans in agreement. “Shoulda gotten that snip done before the end of the world.” He hadn’t really thought about it before, but he lives in a world now where condoms are a rare luxury.

You hum in agreement, “how could you know condoms weren’t gonna be around because a - a fucking fungus took over the world?” You ask breathlessly, rocking down onto his cock. “But I do think about you. You cumming inside me.”

Joel groans, twitching inside of you violently, “me too.” He pants out. “I think about it when I’m jerking off. I can’t- I can’t think about it when I’m inside you.” He confesses. “I’ll cum too quickly.”

You nod in understanding, “I know baby. Fuck.” You murmur, still imagining how it would feel but you start to rock on his cock, “feel so good, baby. So damn good. No one has ever felt like this.”

You are the longest relationship he’s had, besides Tess. His heart aches for a moment and it makes his kiss a little more demanding, desperate. Reminding himself that he can’t change the past, he can’t bring anyone back, but he can show you how he appreciates you. His tongue slides into your mouth when you open up with a groan.

You slide your tongue against his, cupping his cheeks as you devour him while you ride his cock. Your pants and moans fill the tiny space and you slide your hands down to grip his shoulders. “Shit. Gonna make me cum already.” You pant, knowing he can hit just right inside of you to push you over the edge.

Joel groans, planting his feet at the bottom of the space capsule and rocks up into you. Taking over for a moment and swallowing your whine of pleasure when he hits that spot inside you that drives you crazy.

You whimper, “fuck, baby. I- shit. I’m gonna - oh fuck.” You pant, walls fluttering until you clamp down on him. “Shittt.” You hiss out as you shake above him. “Fuck.” You pant, collapsing against him.

You’ve stopped moving, but Joel just holds you. Panting with you as you shake on top of him. “You amaze me.” He murmurs softly, stroking your back.

His words make your heart clench with love but you daren’t utter those three words. You caress his cheeks, softly kissing him. “Lemme take care of you.” You murmur, shifting off his cock, and you awkwardly maneuver until you’re kneeling so you can take his cock into your mouth. You taste yourself on his skin and moan, your eyes meeting his.

He closes his eyes and groans out your name, hand reaching down and caressing your cheek. You know you don’t have to do this, but the fact that you want to always makes him light up. He loves that you want him so badly that you love to have him fall apart in your mouth. “Fuck.” He hisses, stomach clenching. “I can’t - I don’t deserve you.”

You pull off his cock, smirking as you pump him, "you definitely do." You argue and take him back into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you pump the base, pressing your tongue to the underside. You want him to cum down your throat. You want to see him fall apart.

You’re fucking good at sucking his cock. Sitting in the most surreal place he could ever be, with your lips wrapped around his dick like you are gonna suck him dry. “Fuck.” He hisses again, wondering again why him. Why had you chosen him? He’s so fucking lucky you haven’t realized you deserve better, so much more than he could ever give you. “Goddamn, gonna cum.” He growls out, fingers tightening on your jaw.

You hum around him, used to swallowing down all he has to offer, and your eyes water but you blink rapidly to watch him as he spills down your throat. His moan echoes off the metal walls of the capsule and you work him through it until his chest heaves. You pull off of him, wiping your chin with the back of your hand, and you offer him a smug smile, "Houston, we have liftoff." You tease, watching him try to catch his breath.

He chuckles breathlessly as he pulls you up and kisses you. Letting you settle onto his lap again for another moment. Both of you are quiet, breathing starting to return to normal as he closes his eyes. “You’re so good to me.” He murmurs after a moment. “You’ve made Ellie’s birthday perfect.” He hesitates for a moment. “Do you want to come with us?”

You nudge your nose against his, arms around his neck as you lean into him. You pull back for a moment, surprised at the request, and you caress the hair at the base of his neck. “I don’t want to invade on your time with her.” You murmur, “enjoy her birthday. She’ll be a moody teenager screaming at you before you know it.” You lean in to kiss his nose.

He appreciates that you would give him this time with her alone. Smiling softly as he wrinkles his nose. “Oh goody.” He huffs dryly. “Just what every dad wants.”

“Rite of passage, baby. Teenage girls have gotta have a ‘I hate my daddy’ phase. Next will be smoking and/or drinking along with the, uh, the sex.” You can feel him flinch beneath you. “She’s gotta grow up.” You remind him, “the best thing to can do is be there for her when she fucks up because she will.”

“That doesn’t mean I have to hope she just jumps into bed with the first boy to smile at her.” Joel grumbles, knowing that you’re right. You would know more about what teenage girls go through than he would. “Jesse keeps eyeing her. I think there might be something there.”

You chuckle, caressing his chest, “I think it’s more, uh, that she’s eying the ladies.” You reveal and he frowns, “she’s still figuring it all out.” He counters and you pat his chest, “I know you are from Texas and it wasn’t - but it’s okay. Just support her. No matter what.” You tell him and he nods, “shit. I’m so out of my depth.” He confesses and you cup his cheek, “I’m here for you. Both of you. However you want me.” You promise, “it’ll be okay.”

He hums softly, unable to vocalize how much that means to him. Instead, he holds you closer, leaning in and giving you several soft kisses. “I can’t tell her we had sex here.” He tells you dryly, making you laugh as he starts to chuckle. “She would be completely grossed out. She makes gagging noises whenever I come home smellin’ like you.”

You giggle, "is that when you've spent all day with your tongue inside my-?" He cuts you off with a groan of "don't" and you caress his cheek, "we can air it out." You promise, "cool place to check off the list of places we have had sex." You tease, "and she's gonna love this place for her birthday. You're a good father." You murmur, nudging your nose against his. "

He snorts, doubtful, but the pain of losing Sarah has been helped so much by having Ellie. The guilt he has carried isn’t gone, but he feels like he has been given a second chance. “Hopefully she likes it, I’m gonna walk here.” It’s not too far from the town, relatively speaking. “Give us time to talk and connect.”

You nod, caressing his chest until you pat it. "We better get moving." You groan as you shift to stand, awkwardly shimmying your jeans and panties back up your legs while he tucks his cock away. You inhale deeply once you're outside the space capsule and Joel rolls his neck. He glances around for a moment and takes your hand, guiding you back to your horses. Your heart flutters and you feel the words sitting on the tip of your tongue but you don't want to ruin a perfect day. You swallow the words back down and squeeze his hand, letting him guide you back home.

**** 

“Answer the door, answer the fuckin’ door.” Joel growls, banging on your door again. He would just walk in, but your shop is closed today, the front door locked to give you some privacy. Needing to talk to you, he grabs the door knobs and twists it again as if it would magically open for him.

You swing the door open, eyes wide as you see Joel standing there, his chest heaving. "What the fuck is going on? I was just taking a shower." Your skin is still wet, towel wrapped around you, and you can see he's upset. "Come in." You order, ushering him inside and off the street.

It’s pouring outside and he’s probably just as soaking wet as you are, maybe more. He had walked out of the house without a jacket, without anything. Furious and hurt, confused and needing to talk to you. “Ellie.” He spits out as he storms inside. “She’s lost her damn mind.” He growls as he starts to pace around the shop before you take his hand and drag him towards the stairs.

You guide him to your living room, letting go of his hand to grab him a towel to dry off. "Here baby. Sit. Talk to me. What happened? It's her birthday." You frown, reaching out to push his wet hair back from his face.

“I was bringing her her cake.” He huffs, rubbing his face and then his hair, but he’s more preoccupied by the argument he just had with Ellie. “She was- there was this girl. Says she’s 19, oldest fucking 19 year old I’ve ever seen.” He shakes his head. “She got a tattoo.” He stresses and says your name as he looks at you with horrified eyes. “Smoking pot too. All of it, all of it today.”

You snort, shaking your head, "she really went from zero to a hundred with teenage angst, huh?" You sigh, seeing the sadness and anger in his eyes. "She's growing up and I know that's hard to handle because she's not gonna need you as much, but it proves that you have been a good father to her. She is gonna act out and you freaking out will make her go even harder. I'm not saying you gotta understand it, baby, but you can't freak out. You gotta let her make her own mistakes." You caress his ear lobe, brushing his hair back, and you watch him clench his jaw.

“A tattoo?” He huffs and you nod when he looks at you, “goddamn.” He flings himself back on the sofa and covers his eyes. “Girls? I just- I thought-“ he doesn’t know what he was thinking, it had just caught him off guard. Even after you had hinted about it before. You had seen what he hadn’t or been unwilling to see. He sighs heavily, knowing he fucked up. “I was hoping she was gonna meet some guy, fall in love, get married….have babies.” His voice is soft, almost yearning. All the things that he never got to see Sarah do.

You reach for his hands, tangling your fingers with his, "she can still get married and you can walk her down the-" you wrinkle your nose, "nah. I can't see Ellie walking down the aisle." Joel chuckles in agreement and you continue, "she could adopt a kid like you have or hell, you never know what will happen, but she knows who she is and I certainly didn't know that at her age. She's - she's a strong girl, a fighter, and she likes girls. That's who she is and you love her no matter what because you are her father." You remind him, "and she loves you because you've been there for her since you met."

“Fuck.” Joel closes his eyes. “I fucked it up.” He admits. “I need to apologize to her. But I can’t now, she will just make a smart ass comment and completely ignore me.” She blows hot, so different from his own quiet, deep rage. Joel doesn’t shout until he has to, and Ellie’s first line of defense is shouting. “I hope she doesn’t fucking hate me.”

“It’ll be okay.” You promise, “let her cool down and I have her present ready. I found a pair of Converse. Cleaned them up and restitched them. You can take them for her, tell her it’s from you.” You offer, sliding your hand down to caress his neck.

“No, I can’t do that.” You always give Ellie such thoughtful gifts, he could never take that away from you. Even if she didn’t have any interest in learning to sew. She still slept under that quilt every night. “I just-“ he needed to talk, to have your reassurance or your slap upside the head, whatever was appropriate. “I needed you.” He admits softly.

You smile, “you have me. Always.” You promise, “whenever you need me, baby.” You reassure him, shifting to straddle him and you let the towel you have wrapped around you pool to the floor. “You can take what you need.”

That wasn’t what he meant, but he wants to be close to you. He grabs the back of your neck and drags you down for a desperate kiss. Groaning into your mouth as you immediately reach for his belt buckle.

You slide your tongue against his and reach in to pull his hard cock out. He’s always eager, even for a man of his age, and you squeeze him. “I’m yours. However you want me.” You promise as you start to pump him, wanting him to throb in your hand before you ride him.

“Fuck.” He hisses, hardening even more under your expert touch. “Bed.” He growls, wanting to touch all of you. His hand slaps your ass while the other cups your breast.

You huff but concede, letting go of his cock to shift off his lap. You make your way over to the bed, laying down to watch him as he pulls his shirt over his head. “Always so sexy.” You murmur, watching him as he stalks towards the bed.

He snorts softly and shakes his head. He’s old, getting older every year. Every morning he’s stiff and aching, wishing for some of those hydros he used to take to forget the sounds of his daughter dying. It’s strange….since saving Ellie, he hasn’t had them. Like he had completed the task he had failed at nearly twenty-five years ago. “You’re the one I should be saying that to.” He smirks as you wink at him. “Brazen.”

You snort and spread your legs for him to kneel between them. “Come here, baby.” You murmur, pulling him down towards you and he shifts his weight to his elbow before he reaches down to squeeze his cock in his hand. He slides it through your folds and you whimper when he starts to push into you.

He needs you, right now as a distraction, a comfort. You are always so goddamn good at giving him an outlet for his emotions. Even when he rarely shares them. He settles down on you, giving you his full weight as he pushes his arms under your back to gather you close. “Fuck.”

You caress his shoulders, sliding your hands down to his ass, "fuck me. Joel. I want you to forget all the bullshit and fuck me." You order, pushing him deeper with your palms on his skin.

He’s good at following your orders, smirking slowly as he rocks deeper into you. Right now, his mind is blank to everything but the way your pussy feels clenching around him. “Hard?” He asks, feeling like you want it rougher, but he wants to just make sure.

You nod, “harder.” You order, “want to feel you tomorrow.” You demand and he groans, grabbing your thigh to push it back towards your stomach. “That’s it. Shit.” You moan in pleasure, “always get so deep like this. Yes baby. Keep - keep fucking going.” You plead, moaning his name again when he grunts.

Joel’s dark eyes watch you, even as he starts to give you exactly what you are begging for. You once told him that he looked like a predator, like he was about to destroy you, but he’s watching to make sure he doesn’t hurt you. Even when he’s rough, he never wants you to have true pain. Not by him, not from this. Joel hisses when you clench down around him after a sharp snap of his hips. “That’s it.” He growls.

You moan, loving how he pushes deep, his balls hitting your ass as he fucks you hard like you wanted. He always gives you what you want, “lemme - tell me if your back hurts.” You inform him, “I can - I can take over.” You offer, wanting him to enjoy himself.

He huffs, almost offended by the comment if it weren’t so true most of the time. “Back always hurts.” He grunts out, speeding up the pace as if he is proving a point to both of you.

You gasp as he pushes even deeper, wanting to show you that he can still fuck you hard and fast. “Oh shit, Miller. You’re - shit - you’re gonna make me - already. How?” You moan in surprise at how he’s worked you up and you know it’s just him. Your feelings for him that you keep to yourself.

He chuckles breathlessly, watching your eyes glaze over in pleasure as you take every thrust. Squealing out his name again and your nails dig into his arms. “Fuck.” He hisses, enjoying the flash of pain and focusing on making you cum. “Do it. Do it for me.”

You nod, mouth open as your walls clamp down on his cock. You cum within moments, his name mouthed instead of moaned, and you shake beneath him. “Oh fuckkkk” finally escapes your lips as he fucks you through your orgasm.

Joel groans your name, gritting his teeth and rocking his hips a little deeper as he works you through it. You’re soaking him, making his eyes slip closed in pleasure. “Fuck honey, you’re doing so good. So good to me.”

You grip his shoulders, nails leaving a trail of scratches, and you whimper, “wanna - wanna feel it. Just once. I tracked - it’s safe. Please. Wanna feel you cum inside me just one time.” You beg, wanting to feel the heat of his cum painting your walls. “Just this once. Please Joel. Fill me up.”

He shouldn’t, he fucking shouldn’t. Joel groans and rocks his hips even faster. The thrusts are harsh and sharp. Giving into your begging without even thinking about how wrong it is. “Fuuuuuuuuuuck.” His growl is low, almost feral as he feels himself start to cum. Pushing deep, he buries his cock and and floods your walls with his cum. “Fuck, honey.” Your name falls from his lips in a low groan, unable to even try to pull out because it feels so good.

The feeling of him twitching inside you, painting your walls, and the way he groans your name has another smaller orgasm rippling through you. You try to catch your breath, lost in the sensations, and your chest heaves while he presses kisses to your neck. “That was - yeah.” You finish lamely, biting back the words that are always on the tip of your tongue but you don’t want to scare him away from you.

Joel collapses on top of you, forehead pressed against yours as he tries to catch his breath. He can’t even explain how he feels right now, what is racing through his mind and heart. “Yeah.” He huffs finally, rolling off of you and pulling you against him.

All the unspoken words seem to hang heavy in the air but you don’t drag them down. You simply curl around Joel, breathing him in as you relax, and you feel him finally relax. You don’t need words, you can just be. 

**** 

You groan, resting your head on your toilet as you try to quell the nausea that seems to creep up your throat. You’ve been throwing up for a couple of days, exhausted, and you wonder if you have some kind of flu. It’s Ellie’s birthday today and you’re certain Joel will be doing something with her. It’s her 18th after all. They have been at odds and you hope today is the day they talk it out and put it aside. “Fuck.” You wipe your mouth, stumbling as you stand up from the toilet and when you flush it, you see the box of tampons. “Shit.” You murmur, trying to think back to when your period was. Usually you’re like clockwork but Joel has been finishing inside you more often than not since Ellie’s last birthday. “Shit.” You repeat, sitting down on the toilet seat. “I’m pregnant.” You groan, rubbing your eyes.

Joel sighs softly as he walks towards town, his hands shoved in his pockets. Ellie didn’t want to spend the day with him. Just awkwardly stared at him until he left her garage domain. He’s upset and he doesn’t know what to do. He sees your shop in the distance and there’s a little bit of brightness to his day. It takes him a few minutes and he opens the door. “Honey? You here?” He asks as he closes it behind him. He brought you some buttons and thread he had found, hoping that you would like them.

You wipe your eyes and set your toothbrush down before you go downstairs to see Joel standing in your shop. “Hey baby“ You offer shakily, “you doing okay?” You ask, noticing the way he looks tense and frustrated.

“No.” Joel sets the bag that he had hooked on his arm down on the counter. “But what’s new?” He had been in a mood, withdrawn, as it got closer to Ellie’s birthday and now today, it is just a bad day. Almost as bad as his own birthday.

You stare at him, unable to keep it to yourself when it’s such a shock and he’s already in a bad mood. “I’m pregnant.” You choke out, wrapping your arms around yourself. “I think - I haven’t had my period. I’m late and I’ve been throwing up.”

Joel freezes, eyes wide as he stares at you. “No.” He shakes his head. “No, you can’t be pregnant.” He tells you, as if that will make it true. He thinks back to when Sarah’s mother told him that she was pregnant, the fear, the uncertainty that had festered with the undeniable hope that he could do better. “No!” He shouts, shoving the bag and contents off the counter as he sweeps his hands across the surface. He can’t be a father again. Not at his age. He's at the end of his life. Hell, Ellie isn’t even talking to him and Sarah….. His chest tightens and his vision starts to swim as he stumbles towards the door, needing to get air and not able to breathe.

Your heart pounds as you watch him panic. “It’s not like I did this on purpose.” You choke, “and last time I checked, you were just as eager to cum inside me, Miller.” You hiss, “and I know you are having issues with Ellie but don’t you - fuck.” You sob, curling your arms around yourself.

He hears you, but it sounds like you are underwater. Your voice is garbled and he can’t understand what you are saying but he hears the hurt in your tone. “I can’t-“ he struggles out, heart racing in his chest. He presses a hand to his heart as he tries to reach the door. “I can’t-“

Your eyes widen when you see the way his chest heaves. You step forward, reaching out to cup his cheeks, “it’s okay. You’re okay, baby. Just breathe.” You order, “you’re okay, baby.” You murmur, “breathe with me. Breathe. It’s okay.”

He sinks to his knees with you, gasping for air. “It- I’m almost fucking 60.” He chokes out, closing his eyes and hating how weak he is. “I- you- a baby?” He makes a sound of sorrow. “I’m sorry.” He opens his eyes and there is nothing but anguish in their depths as he looks at you, his hand reaching out to cover yours. “I’m sorry.”

You shush him, “it’s okay, baby. It’s okay baby.” You murmur, “just breathe. It’s okay baby.” You promise, “we will figure it out. I don’t know for sure. We don’t know.” You murmur, caressing his cheeks.

It takes him a few minutes before he can breathe normally. He takes a deep breath and sighs, his shoulders sagging. “I won’t live to see them grow up.” Hw whispers. “I won’t be able to protect you, and our baby.” He’s never shirked his responsibility. He didn’t when he was a young, single father to a baby girl and he won’t do it now that he’s old enough to know better. His eyes meet yours and he swallows harshly. “I’m sorry, honey.” He murmurs.

“I can protect us. I am capable. I just - I didn’t think- we’ve gone so many years without it happening and - shit. This is my fault. I told you to cum inside me.” You choke, kissing his cheeks, “I’m sorry. This is - shit.”

“No.” He frowns, shaking his head and pulls back to look at you seriously. “I’m a grown man, I knew the risks.” He admits, sighing softly as he pulls your hands into his. “I’m not mad at you.” He promises. “I’m mad at myself. All I ever do is the wrong thing.”

You shake your head, “no you don’t. You’re a good man. You’re a good father and I- I know this isn’t what we planned but we can do it. I can do it.” You promise, “I have to do it.” You choke, “it’s my responsibility.”

“It shouldn’t be.” Joel pulls you close and presses his forehead against yours. “I’m so sorry honey.” He murmurs again, thinking about the trouble Maria had when she had Benji. “I’m gonna find a doctor. The best doctor I can.” He promises. “One that was a doctor before all this shit.” He will drag the doctor here by force if necessary.

You sigh, “it’s okay, baby. We will figure it out.” You promise, “we have a long way to go before the baby is here.” You murmur, “I - it’s okay. We will figure it out.” You promise, pecking his cheek.

You should be pissed off at him, kicking him out of your house and life, not comforting him. Not reassuring him. He moves to pull you into his arms. “I don’t deserve you.” He knows he owes you the truth about how he feels, but he can’t right now. It’s not the right time. Not after he had essentially blamed you for getting pregnant in your mind. It would ruin it. So he doesn’t say those little words that seem to come so goddamn hard for him. “Not at all.”

You sigh, caressing his cheek, “you do. You just don’t know it. Come on, lay down with me.” You take his hand, helping him stand and you guide him to your bedroom. “Rest. It’s been a long day for you.”

Joel sighs, his feet heavy, but he follows you dutifully. “You should come stay at the house sometimes.” He mentions. “There’s more room, you could have some space from the shop.”

You are surprised at his offer, nodding as you shift to lay down and he pulls you into his chest. You sniff, trying to calm your racing heart, and you wonder how you’re going to handle having a baby with a man who can’t even say he loves you. 

**** 

You don’t know how long you lay there for but you shift to kiss him, waking him up from your nap. “I gotta use the bathroom.” You shift off him, making your way into the bathroom to pee. Your eyes widen when you pull your pants down and see red. No cramping or sudden issues so you must’ve gotten your period. You come out to see Joel sitting on the edge of the bed and you bite your lip, “crisis averted. I got my period.”

Joel frowns as he looks at you, unsure if he’s relieved or disappointed to hear that. He nods, knowing that it’s for the best. He might have ten, fifteen years left in him. If he’s lucky. He doesn’t need to be having a baby, even if he wondered what a kid with you would look like. “That’s….” He pauses. “Good. Right?”

You nod, a little sad but it’s for the best. “Yeah. Looks like Ellie won’t be a big sister. Probably for the best.” You snort, sitting down next to him. You reach for his hand, squeezing it, “it’s for the best.” You reassure him, “so back to pulling out?” You tease.

He snorts, shaking his head in amusement that you can bounce back so quickly. “That’s if you let me back in your bed.” He tells you. “You might kick my ass out.”

“Never.” You promise, “no one has ever made me feel like you do.” You smirk, “I’d be an idiot to kick you out because of one pregnancy scare. We have been pretty lucky considering.” You sigh, turning your body to look at him. “I don’t want to step backwards because this scare happened. Let’s go back to how we were before today.”

He looks down at your hands, fingers threaded together and he squeezes softly. The trust you give him is overwhelming. “Back to how things were.” He agrees as he looks up at you again. Thinking about how the child you could have had together would have had your eyes.

**** 

Another year passes with you and Joel spending time together, the pregnancy scare buried away. “She’s still not talking to you?” You ask Joel, “why don’t you take her on patrol today?” You ask, knowing you’re supposed to go with him but you’ll give up your place if it makes Ellie happy.

“You think?” He takes a sip of his coffee, looking over at you, and contemplating. “She is 19.” He admits. “Most start patrolling at 18 but….” He had pulled strings and put his foot down with the council, a lot of them afraid he would slow down construction because he was pulling more patrols to protect her. “Yeah.” He nods. “I guess that could be good.”

You watch him sip his coffee, “she will be excited. You know all she wants is to be capable.” You tell him and he nods, “yeah. Maybe - maybe we can talk. It should be quiet out there today.” You smile, “exactly. Go with her. Oh and when you’re back, I repaired her band shirts.” You look over at the box that contains shirts she has ripped and worn to pieces but you’ve managed to rescue them.

“She will like that.” Joel smiles at you as he reaches out to caress your back. “Let me go talk to her about it. What are you going to do if she wants to go? Have a day to yourself where I’m not bothering you?” He knows there is a group of newcomers that just arrived and those first few days are hectic for you with trading and repairing clothes.

You chuckle, “I’ll probably have a nap. Touch myself thinking about this old guy who fucks me.” You tease, leaning in to softly kiss his jaw, “and have some snacks. You know, girl time.”

Joel snorts softly and shakes his head. Turning his head as he presses his lips to your briefly. “Girl time, huh?” He smirks slightly. “Sounds fun.”

You chuckle, “oh yeah. Gonna be real fun.” You joke and caress his cheek, “she’s gonna come around.” You murmur, “don’t sorry baby.” You want him to relax a little even if Ellie is giving him a hard time.

He sighs softly, leaning against you as he hopes that you are right. “Too good to me.” He murmurs again, believing that to be true. “I should go.” He huffs after a moment.

“Go. I’ll see you later.” You murmur, kissing him again and you watch him as he steps back, grabbing his jacket, and you sigh when he’s gone. You hope he and Ellie can find some middle ground during the patrol.

**** 

He knows you’ve heard. Everyone in Jackson has heard. The only thing that spreads faster than good news is bad news. And the death of a town member is bad news. His footsteps are heavy, not even able to go to your house, he’s dragged himself back to his own house. Slow steps up the porch, running a hand through his hair as he swallows harshly.

You make your way up the steps to his front door, knowing he must be beating himself up. You open the door that was left unlocked after he rushed inside. You close it behind you, making your way upstairs to find Joel sitting on the end of his bed, head hanging low. You walk towards him, standing in between his spread legs and you waste no time pulling him into your stomach so you can comfort him.

The sorrow he hides from everyone. The feelings that he bottles up, buries deep, it comes out. His hands slide around your body, pulling you closer as he gives into the pain. He hadn’t wanted to kill Eugene, he didn’t. But the risk was too great. Bringing someone infected too close to Jackson endangered every single person in that town. Ellie didn’t see that, wouldn’t see that. “I had to.” He chokes out.

You stroke your fingers through his hair, “I know, baby. I know.” You coo, needing to comfort him as he sobs into your shirt. “You did what you thought was best.” You murmur, leaning down to kiss the top of his head. “She will understand with time. She has to.” You promise, “and you did the right thing.”

He tightens his grip on you, letting himself have this moment before he stuffs it down again. Shows an unconcerned face to the rest of the town. He knows you won’t even ask him for the details but you believe in him. You believe that he wouldn’t do anything just to be cruel. There was a reason, a good reason for why he hadn’t granted that last request.

You let him bury his face in your shirt, “it’s okay. Baby, it’s okay.” You murmur, waiting until he lifts his head to look at you and you lean down, cupping his cheeks to softly kiss him. “It’ll be okay.” You promise, “it’s gonna be okay.” You know why he did it and you know why Ellie is mad but you understand him.

“I don’t think it will be.” Joel admits softly, pulling back and looking up at you. “If you- could you stay tonight?” It’s been rare that you’ve spent the night together, even after all these years, but he doesn’t want to be alone.

You can’t deny him, stroking his cheek, “of course.” You murmur, rubbing his lower lip with your thumb. You have rarely spent a night in his arms and right now, it’s what you both need. “Lemme get you a cup of coffee.” You reach for his hand to squeeze it. “Maybe a splash of whiskey in it.”

“A lot of whiskey.” He murmurs after a second. He smiles softly to reassure you, knowing that you are trying to help. “I’m gonna take a shower.” He sighs. “Need one.”

You nod, “whiskey with a splash of coffee.” You chuckle, “got it. Now, go shower and I’ll make you something to eat. Knowing you, you didn’t eat before patrol today.” You huff, caressing his cheek. You step away from him and glance back for a moment. Making your way downstairs, your heart aches for the man who is just trying his best and Ellie can’t seem to see that. You prepare his coffee, whiskey, and a sandwich, setting them down on the kitchen table where his glasses lay next to a book on rescuing foundations. You snort and look up when he enters the kitchen, hair wet and wearing sweats. He looks soft and vulnerable. Things you would never normally associate with him.

He pauses in the doorway, a little unsure and hesitant. Not because you are here, but because of how well you just fit here. You have taken over and taken care of him. He rubs his hands on his sweats and steps forward, his feet bare on the kitchen floor. “Thanks.” He murmurs softly. “Did you fix yourself something to eat?”

You nod, your own sandwich in front of you. “I didn’t get to eat anything either.” You don’t practice what you preach. You watch him sit down and he looks at the food. “Thank you, honey.” You smile, pushing a napkin towards him. “Eat, Miller.” You order, “and there’s extra whiskey in the coffee.”

“Thanks.” He reaches for it, grateful that you understand that he’s not talkative right now. You pick up your sandwich and start to eat, letting him savor the burn of the liquor as it slides down his throat. You deserve so much praise, so much more than silence right now. But Joel doesn’t have the heart, or the words to talk. He can put on a front when he’s in town, but right now, he’s just weary.

You let him eat, seeing the tiredness in his eyes, and when he’s done, you take his plate and yours to wash them up. It’s early but you see he’s exhausted. “Go up to bed. I’ll be in there soon. I’ll borrow your shirt.” You murmur, rubbing his back, and he nods, making his way upstairs. You secure the house after cleaning the kitchen, and make your way upstairs. He’s sitting on the edge of the bed again and you pull one of his shirts from his drawer, a half finished wood work on top of the dresser. You know he had to move everything into his bedroom after Ellie took up residence in the garage so his bedroom has become his workshop. You take his shirt into the bathroom to clean up and change, coming back out to find him under the sheets. He holds them open and you eagerly slide under them, shifting closer to him until you’re snuggled into his chest. “Get some sleep.” You order, kissing the space above his heart.

He’s more appreciative than he could ever articulate. His arms wrapping around you while you hold him. Closing his eyes and letting the weight of the day settle. It’s not oppressive, like it should be. He’s not wallowing in despair and recriminations. Tommy understood, he could see it in his brother’s eyes. Even if he had always been the one to be a little more tenderhearted. Joel had been the protector, the one who had made the choices and sacrifices, taken the blame. He had understood it then too, he was tougher, meant to take that role. He wouldn’t change anything, he wouldn’t have let Eugene come back to Jackson. Just like he wouldn’t let the Fireflies kill Ellie. He kissed the top of your head and lets himself drift off to sleep.

**** 

You watch Joel push Seth down after he insulted Ellie and Dina, a sigh escaping your lips when Ellie tells him she doesn’t need his help, and you look at Maria. She raises her eyebrows and you stand up after Joel stumbles outside, “I better go after him.” You murmur and she nods, “see you next year.” You smile and rush into the cold air to follow Joel home. You know he’s spiraling. You find him standing out in the snow, chest tight as he struggles to breathe and you rush over to him, “breathe baby. It’s okay. It’s okay.” You murmur, stroking your fingers through his hair. “You’re okay.”

“It’s never gonna get better.” Joel gasps out, closing his eyes and wishing that he had said something, anything. Made her listen to reason, but he had just walked out. Embarrassed that she had told him in front of everyone that she didn’t need him.

You let him squeeze you, trying to ground himself, and you murmur to him, “she will come around. She will. She will forgive you at some point. She’s young. She doesn’t understand.” You reason, rubbing the back of his neck, “she will. Soon.”

He doubts it, but it helps him open his eyes again. “I’m gonna go home.” He murmurs softly. “You can stay, if you want.” He would never ask you to come with him if you wanted to socialize, but he squeezes you just a little tighter, hoping you do come with him.

“Let’s go, baby.” You murmur, taking his hand to guide him back to his home. “You’ll be okay. It will be okay, baby.” You grip his hand tight and shiver as the cold air hits you. The snow is starting to fall again and you are shaking when you step onto his porch.

“I’m gonna- sit out here.” Joel tells you quietly, wanting to make sure that Ellie comes home safely. He sees you shivering and he immediately pulls his hand away from yours to rub your arms. “I’ll get the heater,” he offers, knowing that you would want to stay with him. You have so far.

“Can you- can you play me something?” You ask, knowing the guitar offers him an escape from the chaos that seizes his mind. He nods and you smile, reaching out to kiss the back of his hand. You squeeze it before you let it go. “Lemme go make you a coffee and I’ll be out in a sec.” You promise after he opens his door to grab the heater and his guitar.

Joel sets up the heater, angling it towards the seat you will be sitting in. Sitting down and plucking a few chords on the guitar to start tuning it more after replacing the broken strings.

You prepare the coffee, waiting for the water to boil for the french press after you grind up the beans and soon enough, you’re stepping outside to hand the coffee to Joel. “I gotta get mine.” You caress his cheek when he takes it, rocking on the porch, and you head back inside. When you come back towards the front door, you hear voices and look outside to see Ellie standing next to Joel. Deciding to give them some privacy, you step back into the kitchen.

You don’t come back outside, but Joel knows that you should have seen Ellie. He listens to her as she talks, obviously having come to the correct conclusions about what happened in St. Louis with the Fireflies. He doesn’t say a word, just nods when he is asked questions. Until it comes to the why. “Because I love you.” Joel choked out gruffly, tears streaming down his cheeks. “In a way you can’t understand.

You wait until you hear the garage door shut and you quietly close the front door behind you, finding Joel leaning against the railing. Your hand comes up to rub his back, “are you - is everything okay?” You ask, seeing the tears on his cheeks.

Joel licks his lips and nods. “Eventually.” He admits quietly, looking over at you and then back out at the front lawn. “She knows what I’ve done and I- I have to accept that.” He hasn’t told you about St. Louis, but he thinks you know already.

You had never heard him tell you the story but you’ve guessed that he saved her and killed a lot of people to do it. You understand why he did it. Ellie saved him from himself and he was selfish but any parent would’ve done the same thing. “She will come around.” You promise, “she loves you and she will forgive you. Just give her time.” You reach for his hand that’s resting on the ledge of the porch and you squeeze it in yours.

“Yeah.” He looks down at your hand on top of his and wishes tonight had gone like he had expected it to. He had hoped to dance with you, to show you how much you mean to him tonight. Finally putting into words what he has felt for years. Now, that moment has been ruined. Changed into this. Where Joel can’t verbalize what he thinks. “You’re gonna stay, right?” He asks. “Still gotta finish paying for the coffee.”

You snort, turning to wrap your arms around him, the heat from the porch keeping the chill off you and Joel’s body heat is even better. “Nearly paid it off, Miller.” You tease, tilting your head to kiss his jaw. “Come on, let’s get ready for bed. You have patrol in the morning.” You sigh and he nods, squeezing your waist. You smile, leaning back to look at him, “happy new year, baby.” He smiles, leaning in to softly kiss you, “happy new year, honey.”

**** 

The fire still burns, the blood that is covering the side of your face isn’t yours, but it’s dried and crusty as you work to clear the bodies and bring them to the fire burning in front of the fences. You have to concentrate on that, on the task at hand, because you are worried. Before the storm hit, they lost contact with Joel and Dina. Then the hoard attacked. Jackson had been fighting for its very lift and your shop had barely missed being burned down. Now, you keep looking towards the north, where Joel was supposed to be scouting, hoping to see him riding in, worried about what had happened and who had been lost while he was gone.

You look up when you hear the horses neigh, heart pounding with the need to see Joel and you frown when you only see Jesse, Dina, and Ellie. You run towards them, only to freeze when you see the bloodied sheet covered body being dragged. “No. No. Don’t tell me - Joel? He’s - no. He can’t be.” You choke before a wail escapes your lips when you see the look on Ellie’s face and you collapse to the ground, your sobs echoing off the buildings of Main Street.

Ellie chokes out your name, nearly falling off her horse and her eyes roll back in her head as she faints. Making Jesse shout for help as he scoops her up and Tommy rushes forward to see what is happening. Choking up and freezing when he sees the shroud covered body and he slowly kneels down beside you. “Joel.” He murmurs softly, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you against him to let you cry.

"El-Ellie. Need to - to help - he- her." You can hardly breathe, gripping onto Tommy to keep grounded but he is choking on his tears until Maria arrives and takes his place. Her hands pull you close as Tommy lifts Ellie, stumbling as he takes her to the hospital. You push Maria away, crawling over to the shrouded body, your tears dropping onto the blood stained cloth as you touch it, knowing it's him underneath the material and your sobs are soul crushing.

Maria hates watching you mourn, her own sorrow softer, but she hadn’t been in love with Joel. She kneels next to you, her hand on your back while you untie the rope and pull the sheet away from his face. Sobs getting louder when you see the battered face of the man you love. “Don’t.” She murmurs softly. “He wouldn’t want you to remember him this way.” She draws the sheet back up.

You nod, heart breaking at how he’s been killed. Tortured and why? Who did this to him? Eventually you’re dragged away so they can untie Joel and carry his body to the ever growing morgue. “Come here.” Maria pulls you into her arms again, “let’s go. You need to sit down.” She says, taking you back to hers and Tommy’s house. 

**** 

You’re numb as you stare at the glass of whiskey, a blanket wrapped around you, and you’re still covered in blood. You can’t process what’s happened today. Your body seems to have shut down and you don’t even look up when Tommy appears in front of you.

Tommy looks up at Maria, his eyes expressive and he sighs as he kneels down in front of you. “Honey…” you wince when he uses Joel’s nickname for you, so he switches to your name. “Joel loved you. So fuckin’ much.”

You continue to stare at the glass, “he never - he didn’t tell me. He never said it. Neither did I.” You choke, regret threatening to drown you. “I should’ve told him. Just once. I had years to tell him.”

“You know how Joel is….was.” Tommy had told the stubborn son of a bitch to tell you, but he had been so insistent on making it right. Making it perfect for you. “He wasn’t a words guy, but he-“ his younger brother fights back tears of his own as he hands you a small box he had taken from Joel’s pocket. “He was waiting for the right time to give you this.”

Your watery eyes widen and you stare at the box, “what’s - he - I don’t-” Tommy gestures for you to open it and your shaking hands open the tiny box. “Oh my God.” You choke, seeing the diamond ring. It’s beautiful and you are shocked by it. You never imagined it. Never imagined that he’d want that. “He never - I knew he cared for me but I didn’t - when did he-?”

“He talked to me about it last summer.” Tommy admits softly. “Asked me if I thought he was crazy.” He snorts, smirking slightly as he recalls the conversation. “Told him he was insane not to marry you.” He pauses for a moment. “He was gonna ask you at the dance last night, but….” He had left to put Benji to sleep, but he had heard what happened. Figured he had put it off.

Tears stream down your cheeks as you shakily take your ring out of the box. Twisting it in your fingers, you watch the diamond catch the light until you notice the engraving. “He, uh, engraved it himself.” Tommy confesses and you choke when you see “I love you” engraved into the metal. “Oh God.” You sob, struggling but finally you manage to slide the ring onto your finger. “I would’ve said yes. To him. A thousand times.” You murmur, “yes.”

“I know you would have.” Tommy murmurs softly, reaching out to take your right hand as you stare at the ring Joel had picked out for you, the symbol of the feeling that he could never find the words to express. “He was happy with you. Loved you with everything he had.” He reminds you. “Had loved you from the first bag of coffee he traded you for.”

You chuckle at the memory, “he really wanted coffee.” You joke softly and Tommy snorts, “he might have come to you for coffee but he kept coming back for you.” You squeeze his hand, “I don’t know how to live without him.” You confess softly and Tommy chokes, “neither do I. He’s always - he was always there to protect me. To take the blame whenever I fucked up and our dad wanted to beat me. He took the belt. He took it to protect me.” Tommy whispers like he’s a 13 year old boy.

Joel Miller didn’t talk about his feelings a lot. He could be chatty about thing, mostly related to his love of building things or fixing things. He loved his community, protected it. He loved Ellie, and wanted the best for her. He died protecting the girl that Ellie loved, keeping her from being hurt up in that lodge. It’s why he didn’t try to fight them. And he loved you, the evidence is on your finger, the inscription etched by hand, with love.

**** 

Years later, you lay in bed, chest heaving as you take your last breaths. Dina, Ellie, and JJ by your side and you close your eyes as you pass away. You open them to bright light, a familiar hand outstretched, and your eyes widen when your body moves smoothly, just like it did when you were younger. “Hey, honey.” His dark eyes come into focus and you smile, surging forward to wrap your arms around him, “Joel.” You choke, pressing your lips to his until a throat clears. Joel pulls back, turning his head, and he smiles when he says “this is Sarah.” The young girl smiles at you and says “Dad has told me so much about. I’m so happy to finally meet you.” Joel rubs your back as you say “I’m sorry I took so long.” He shakes his head, “you’re here now and that’s all that matters. Come, we’ll show you around.” You take his hand and let him guide you through the light, his ring sparking on your finger as you finally get to enjoy forever with the man you love.

​​

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[mia-maybank]

I'd love to see a fic of reader being shy and Arthurtv sweeping her off her feet with his charm

Aquarium Dates and Milkshakes- Arthur TV

Arthur Tv x Fem!reader (1.6k words)

I'M FINALLY FREE FROM A LEVEL EXAMS WOOHOO AND I SAW ARTHUR HILL AND JAMES MARRIOTT LIVE ON SUNDAY (never recovering ever) and I've had a few Arthur requests so I thought I'd get one out before I post part 4 of my George series (which will be out tomorrow , I'm so sorry that its taken a while 🥲 my mental health has not been mental healthing recently which is honestly rude of it).

Also I used the same taglist as my George series one so if you only want to be tagged in that and not all of my ukyt works just lmk!!

warnings: pure fluff :)

masterlist

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I pull up outside of Chris' apartment block, a mix of apprehension and excitement flowing through my veins and wrapping around my heart, providing an adrenaline rush that left me both breathless and energetic. I wasn't usually one for meeting new people, especially not this spontaneously, but after moving to the same part of London as my younger brother Chris, he had insisted that I meet his close-knit group of friends that I had heard so much about (to the point that throwing pillows at him in our family home in order to cut off his loving rambling for them had become common), I had coaxed myself into accepting the invitation.

I was regretting that decision, however, as my ever-persisting anxiety caught up with me, churning in my stomach sickeningly. No y/n, pull yourself together, you can do this I coax myself mentally, staring down the black apartment door like it has personally offended me.

My internal spiral is soon interrupted by the click of the door and the appearance of a familiar blonde. "Thought you might be out here overthinking your life decisions" Chris grins, pulling me into a warm hug that I melt in to. I have missed my brother, as annoying as he can be at times, and it is one of the positives of having moved across the city.

"In my defence I didn't mean to be out there for so long, just got lost in my head I guess" I scratch the back of my neck sheepishly, following Chris into the hallway of his home.

"Yeah, yeah, stuck in your fairy world again" Chris teases lightly, ruffling my hair before skipping ahead to avoid my retaliating whack of his forehead.

"Oi, you four-foot nothing twat-" I begin before 4 men emerge from the living room, clearly having been alerted to our arrival by our arguing. I take in Chris' friend group; two mulleted men that I recognised from my brother's videos to be George and Bach, flanked by the two Arthur's, although one caught my gaze in particular. Soft brown eyes met my own, inquisitive and gentle, paired with a kind yet teasing smile that made my cheeks warm.

“Arthur squared, George and Bach” Chris introduces, pointing at each of the individuals as I receive enthusiastic waves and reassuring smiles. Arthur (I’m gonna call Arthur TV ‘Arthur’ and Arthur Hill ‘Hill’ from this point onwards to avoid confusion) steps forwards and shakes my hand, which causes the other boys to giggle but makes me smile as it just adds to him charming nature. His hand is soft and warm in my own, a steady grounding presence, and I hold on for slightly longer than necessary before remembering my brother is beside me and quickly letting go.

“Boys, this is yn, aka the demon my mother raised from hell” Chris declares dramatically, causing me to roll my eyes.

“You're just bitter that I’m one year older and 1 foot taller than you” I tease back, causing the other boys to let out low ooos.

“She got you there Chris” Arthur laughs, whilst George makes fun of Chris expression, as he does look like a toddler on the cusp of a tantrum.

We eventually head out, and I can’t help but naturally fall behind the others, my shy nature taking over once more and choking up my ability to speak.

I nearly don’t notice when somebody falls back to stay in step with me until their arm brushes mine I tear my gaze from the floor, startled, meeting the earnest, deer-like eyes of Arthur.

"So how are you finding London?" he sounds genuinely interested, gazing at me with a gentle sparkle in his eyes that makes me blush.

"Oh..well it's big, that's for sure" I answer, mentally facepalming at my vanilla answer. Big? Really? You've moved to the capital of England and are being asked about it by a cute guy and the only answer you have is big? I mentally scold myself, but once again his voice pulls me out my mental spiral, like human medicine to my shyness.

"That's true" he smiles kindly "when I first moved here I found it so overwhelming, but you get used to it."

"I sure hope so, I've gotten lost an embarrassing amount already" I groan, and he laughs, the sound warm and full of boyish joy.

"Well, I'm happy to be your personal tour guide for a day, show you all the special hidden spots that Chris would kill me if he knew I was telling anyone about" he bumps my shoulder, grinning.

"For free? Really? The one thing I've learnt about London is that nothing's for free" I joke, and his smile widens as he realises I'm becoming more comfortable with him.

"I'd take repayment in the form of southern comfort or you letting me take you to the natural history museum and you listening to me info dump for 6 hours straight".

I perk up that. "Only if you let me take you a greek exhibition sometime and let me infodump about mythology for 6 hours" I offer up and he turns to me, clearly shocked that I seem so onboard with the idea.

"Wait, you would seriously come with me? Most of the others, including your brother, run in the opposite direction when I start listing historical facts" he says.

"Of course I would, that honestly sounds like my dream day out" I admit shyly, still slightly scared of being judged for having nerdy interests, but the way his face lights up like an excited golden retriever instantly reassures me, and we continue talking about our niche interests the entire 25-minute walk to the aquarium, to the point that I notice Chris staring back at us suspiciously whilst George and Hill exchange smug grins; I can't blame Chris for being suspicious however, as I did grow up with the reputation of being the introverted member of the family who struggled to hold more than a 5 minute conversation with friends, never mind a 25 minute conversation with a stranger. Something about Arthur's lack of judginess and his nerdy hyperfixations that mirror mine soothe me and bring me out of my shell slowly but surely.

~~~

"Did you know that scientists have recently discovered that jellyfish are around 700 million years old? That makes them estimately 3 times older than dinosaurs" a voice that I have quickly grown familiar to appears behind me, making me smile as I gaze at the luminescent creatures floating in the tank in front of me.

"Really?" I voice my shock, keep my eyes fixated on the fish but not missing the way his smile grows fonder as he watches my expression.

"What?" I whisper shyly, suddenly self conscious, but he only shakes his head gently, reaching out his hand to brush a fallen piece of my hair behind my ear. His touch is electric, sending shockwaves straight through my spine. Wrapped in our own bubble, we are both entirely unaware of Bach and Hill exchanging knowing glances, and George teasing Chris about how he's "lost Arthur to his own sister".

"You really like it here" he states in answer to my questioning gaze, still fully unaware of the chaos brewing behind us, more of an observation than a question.

"It's just peaceful. Reminds me that all these sea creatures have their own little lives going on and makes the universe seem less daunting somehow" I explain coyly, and his smile grows even fonder as he rests his head on my shoulder. I melt into his touch, undeterred by his touchiness as he radiates safety and comfort.

"ARTHUR FREDERICK" fills the previously tranquil aquarium, followed by a loud cackle from George. Our heads whip around to the source of the yell; Chris, of course.

"And what is going on here exactly?" he asks, half-mocking and half-serious, his gaze darting between me and Arthur with the face of a disappointed dad.

"Chris" I groan, burying my head in my hands whilst Arthur meets his gaze with a soft laugh, much less undeterred by my brothers teasing.

"Just making sure your guest is having a good time and making conversation, Christopher" he replies back cheerfully.

"Making conversation, making moves you mean" George chimes in, earning a clap on the back from Bach and a frustrated groan from Chris.

"Ignore the idiots" Arthur sighs, putting his hands over my ears as I laugh lightly, recovering from my previous embarrassment.

~~~

After the aquarium and an ungodly amount of dating jokes from the guys, Hill suggest milkshakes and we pile into the booth of a nearby diner that George promises me is "like five guys milkshakes on steroids".

I nestle between Arthur and George, feeling a little more at home with the group now, especially thanks to the attentiveness of one particular person. As the others argue over who is ordering first, Arthur leans over to me, speaking softly.

"Today has been really fun, I'm glad Chris introduced you to us. I think he forgot to mention you're both the funnier and prettier md sibling, it's no wonder he's kept you hidden for this long" Arthur admits, and I turn quickly to him, expecting him to be joking, but finding only a raw sincerity painting his gaze.

"I'd like if...if maybe we went out another time too...just the two of us? Of course, only if you're comfortable with it don't feel pressured into saying yes-" I cute his ramble short with a reassuring smile of my own.

"Arthur Frederick, are you asking me on a date?" I ask him and he blushes a pretty shade of crimson that suits his delicate features.

"Are you okay with that?" he chokes out nervously, and I kiss his cheek gently, silently thanking the gods that the boys were still distracted by their argument and hadn't interrupted our moment. His smile widens at the gesture and the blush creeps up to his ears.

"I'd love that, Arthur."

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Tags:

@the-internets-girlfriend @madforgeorge @happyclifford @sidemenslver @heyitsmefall @bbygrlllllll @mothersversiononly @dopeysunflowers @kwonhoeshi @ooostarwarsfandom501st @liz140569 @tyna-19 @livvymd @clarkeyscvntymullet @swizzlemynizzle @whorteshawsx @madsclarkey @bibissparkles @mdhillclarkey @bowielovesyou

[wilting-moon]

Does Lux enjoy being a dad? If you're up for it, could we see some more scenes of him interacting with his boys?

OF COURSE YOU CAN!!!!

This was supposed to be quick doodles but I got ahead of myself because I was so so exited to get a ask 🥹🥹

OKAY DOES LUX LIKE BEING A FATHER?- at FIRST, NO, he did not- infact- he was so egotistical and had such a god complex (literally) he thought having children was the worst thing that could happen to him because… well… gods don’t have kids! Apprentices? Sure- did big G make a kid- sure, but he made his kid with a purpose! The boys were made off one too many rum and cokes and poor judgment- so he honestly despised the thought of having to take care of these kids that- he didn’t even know! But then- he started seeing parts of himself in the kids he didn’t even know he had! And it was like looking at a mirror, and he started feeling these stupid, silly mortal emotions- like love- and proudness- he looked away for 2 seconds- andddddd now he’s attached. So yeah- he does like being a dad- it’s grown on him, and he spends time with them in different ways, like good dads do!

ANYWAY SORRY SILLY RAMBLINGS ABOUT A STUPID SILLY AU THAT LIKE 6 PEOPLE GIVE A SHIT ABOUT OKAY BYEEEE ILL AWNSER MORE ASKS also hot dog enjoyer lux is permanently engraved in my brain cuz @glitchybitz drew him eating a hot dog and now i really like the thought of him not needing to eat but pigging out anyway

[portagas-chan]

Bound by His Flame

Yandere Portgas D. Ace x F!Reader

(Y/n) is part of the strawhat crew. Takes place when Ace met Luffy and his crewmates in Alabasta.

Ace is delusional and manipulative. Ace uses blackmails to get what he wants.

Luffy having a brother wasn’t surprising. What was surprising, however, was the unsettling feeling (Y/n) couldn’t shake—the sensation of Ace watching her intently for quite some time. Honestly, it made her uncomfortable, though she tried her best to ignore it.

Night had fallen, and despite the scorching heat during the day in Alabasta, the temperature had dropped sharply. A chilly wind swept through the camp, causing (Y/n) to hug herself tighter, shivering against the cold.

Just then, she felt someone sit beside her. She turned her head, startled.

“Ace?” she said, surprised. He was the last person she expected to join her.

Ace smiled. “Are you cold?”

(Y/n) nodded. “Yeah, it’s freezing.”

With a soft chuckle, Ace wrapped an arm around her and gently pulled her against his chest. (Y/n) flinched, caught completely off guard, her eyes widening slightly.

She didn’t want to trust her gut feeling, but she couldn’t help being wary around him. It had been that way the entire trip.

Ace would either stare at her in silence during their travels or casually flirt with her. At first, she brushed off the flirting—but the way his gaze darkened whenever she got close to Zoro or Sanji was harder to ignore.

Something about him unsettled her.

“It’s warm, isn’t it?” Ace’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts.

“Huh?” she blinked, disoriented, before realizing the warmth spreading through her body. “You’re right. It is warm,” she said, her eyes lighting up as she momentarily forgot the unease that had been gnawing at her.

Ace’s smile brightened, but (Y/n) looked away, guilt tugging at her heart.

‘How could I think that way about him? There’s no way he’s dangerous. His smile is so bright… so kind. Right?’

Oh, she was so wrong.

Terribly wrong.

In fact, she was the foolish one here.

There was no reason to feel guilty for a man like him.

No reason to feel bad at all.

It was late—well past midnight—but (Y/n) was still wide awake. No matter how many times she tossed and turned, she couldn’t fall asleep.

With a quiet sigh, she finally sat up and slipped out of her tent. The camp was silent. Everyone else was fast asleep and the only sound that could be heard was the howling wind.

She sat alone beneath the vast desert sky, gazing up at the stars that shimmered like scattered diamonds.

“Can’t sleep?”

(Y/n) nearly screamed, falling back in shock—until a hand quickly covered her mouth.

Her wide eyes locked onto the familiar face above her. “Ace?!”

“Yes?” he replied, feigning innocence.

“You scared me! Don’t do that again,” she grumbled, sitting up with a huff.

Ace raised his hands in defense, a playful smile tugging at his lips. “Sorry, sorry.”

She exhaled slowly. “Anyway… why are you up this late too?”

“Same reason as you,” he said with a shrug.

Then his tone shifted. “Actually… there’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you.”

That caught her attention. She turned to face him fully. “And what is it?”

Ace’s expression turned serious as he reached out and gently took her hand. Her eyes widened in surprise.

“(Y/n), leave Luffy’s crew and come with me.”

She blinked. Her brows furrowed as if he’d just spoken in a language she didn’t understand.

“…Huh?!”

Ace didn’t back down. “If you’re with me, I can protect you better. And no one would dare mess with someone under the Whitebeard Pirates.”

He continued rambling, but (Y/n) was already tuning him out. Her stomach twisted in discomfort.

“What the hell are you even saying?”

Ace looked taken aback but then chuckled. “Ah—right. You must be confused.” He looked at her with a strange intensity. “I’ve fallen in love with you, (Y/n). I want you to be with me.”

(Y/n) sighed, trying to process his words. She pulled her hand from his and stood up slowly.

“Ace… I don’t see you that way. I’m sorry. And I’m not leaving Luffy’s crew just to stay with you.”

She turned to head back toward her tent—but suddenly felt a sharp grip on her wrist. She winced.

“Let go of me, Ace!”

“No,” he said, his voice trembling. “(Y/n), you don’t understand. You don’t understand how much I need you. I need you.”

She turned her head away, her voice quieter now. “No, Ace. I understand. But you need to understand that I don’t feel the same way. I can’t change that, and neither can you. You have to accept it.”

“Accept… it?”

Ace stood there frozen, her words echoing in his ears like a death knell. His hand slowly slipped from hers as if all the strength had drained from his body.

Something inside him cracked—quietly, but painfully.

He hated that feeling.

His grip on her wrist tightened as he glared down at her.

“I’m not going to accept that,” he growled. “I don’t care if you don’t feel the same. You’re coming with me. You’re leaving Luffy’s crew.”

(Y/n) gritted her teeth, yanking her arm, though his grip held firm.

“Who are you to decide that?”

A dark grin spread across Ace’s face, sending a chill down her spine. Without warning, he pulled her roughly into his chest and wrapped his arms around her in a suffocating hug.

“Oh, baby… don’t be so cold,” he whispered. “I’m your one and only lover.”

(Y/n) squirmed, struggling between his arms as she tried to push him away.

“No, you’re not!”

His hold only tightened. And that’s when she felt it—his body heating up, far beyond human warmth. Her breath hitched, panic rising in her throat. Her eyes widened in fear as she tapped frantically on his back.

“Do you have anyone precious to you, baby?” he muttered.

(Y/n)’s heart dropped. Her mother—sick, fragile, and bedridden back on her home island—flashed in her mind like a warning.

“What are you—”

“Like your mother, for example?” he interrupted coldly.

Her entire body went still.

“H-How do you know about her?” Her voice cracked as tears began to sting her eyes. But it didn’t matter how he knew. All that mattered was keeping her mother safe.

“Please… please don’t hurt my mother!”

Ace’s expression hardened. He grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her head back, forcing her to look at him. She cried out in pain as tears streamed down her cheeks.

“Baby, you ask for too much,” he said with a cold smile. “You think the world gives you anything for free?”

She shook her head desperately, barely able to breathe.

“No—please. I’ll come with you. I’ll do anything you want. Just… just promise me you won’t lay a finger on her.”

Her sorrowful gaze met his cold eyes.

“Will you love me?” he asked quietly. “Will you stay by my side?”

“…Yes.”

“Forever?”

“Yes.”

At her answer, Ace finally let go. His touch softened as he placed a hand on her cheek—then leaned in and kissed her, rough and possessive.

(Y/n) hesitated before returning the kiss, forcing herself to comply. She parted her lips and allowed him in.

It felt like he was trying to suffocate her with it.

Not just with the kiss—

But with the weight of ownership.

The terrifying need to make sure she knew:

She was his.

And his alone.

[tomkaulitzssgirl]

can you write about how Y/N has hyperactivity, which is why she often has an excess of energy, is easily nervous and it is difficult for her to focus, while Tom is her opposite

STILL | TOM KAULITZ

i hope i described it well🫶🏻

it wasn’t always easy being inside your own head.

people called you “high-energy” like it was a compliment — and sometimes it was. sometimes it felt good to be the one with a million ideas, the spark, the excitement. but other times, it was too much.

your thoughts moved fast. too fast. like a playlist that never stopped skipping songs, jumping from one to the next before the chorus even finished. you bounced your knee without meaning to. you bit your nails. tapped your fingers. got halfway through stories before your brain switched tracks entirely.

and focus? forget it. even when you wanted to slow down, wanted to listen, your attention had other plans. you’d start talking and realize you were already three topics away from where you began. and it left you drained. overstimulated. nervous, even when nothing was wrong.

that’s why tom was… everything.

he was still. effortlessly so.

he moved like time didn’t apply to him — like he knew the world would catch up eventually, and he didn’t need to rush anything for it to matter. he never fidgeted. never scrambled for words. his voice was low and smooth, his body language relaxed, like even his heartbeat had better things to do than hurry.

and for some reason, being around him made it easier to breathe.

⋆⋆⋆

the first time you met, you thought he was bored with you.

you were talking too much — you knew it — rambling about something stupid, probably, voice jumping from subject to subject with no landing point. you saw the way he just blinked at you, nodding slowly, like he was listening but… wasn’t saying anything.

you apologized.

“sorry — i’m all over the place. i’m being annoying, huh?”

he didn’t answer right away.

just leaned back against the wall, hands in his hoodie pocket, and looked at you in that quiet, thoughtful way he did.

“nah,” he said finally, “you’re just fast. i’ll catch up.”

and that was it. he never told you to slow down. never acted like you were too much. never made you feel like you had to explain the way your mind worked.

he just… stayed.

and over time, you realized that’s what he did best. tom didn’t try to fix the parts of you that made you spin — he anchored them.

⋆⋆⋆

nights were the hardest.

when things got quiet, and there was nothing left to distract you, your brain filled in all the silence with static. the anxiety crept in like it had been waiting at the door all day.

sometimes it was little things — “did i text back too fast?” “why did i say that out loud?” “what if he gets tired of me?” — and sometimes it was just this weight in your chest, heavy and directionless.

and he always knew.

you’d be pacing your room, hoodie sleeves pulled over your hands, mind running laps — and then your phone would buzz.

tom: u up?

you: yeah

tom: front door

you never knew how he timed it so perfectly.

he’d come inside without needing to ask, drop his bag on your floor, and wordlessly open his arms like he already knew what you needed. and you’d go — arms around his waist, face tucked into his chest, body still buzzing with the last of your nervous energy.

“i hate my brain.” you’d mumble into his shirt.

and he’d rub your back slowly. “don’t say that.”

“i do. it won’t shut up.”

“i like your brain.”

“you like chaos?”

“i like your chaos.”

you’d breathe in the smell of him — sandalwood, clean laundry, cigarette smoke and faint guitar string metal — and for the first time all day, your pulse would slow.

⋆⋆⋆

he had this way of balancing you without even trying.

you talked too much; he listened with his eyes, not just his ears. you interrupted yourself; he waited for the end, even if it took a while to get there. you forgot things; he remembered what mattered.

you needed noise sometimes, just to feel okay — music, humming, fingers tapping on your leg — and tom would just turn the stereo on low, thumb tracing soft circles on your knee while you sat beside him.

and when you got overwhelmed — when it all got too much, and you couldn’t finish a sentence without tripping over your own thoughts — he never looked frustrated. never sighed or told you to calm down.

instead, he’d reach for your hand and gently squeeze.

“you’re okay.” he’d whisper.

and somehow… you believed it.

⋆⋆⋆

one night, you asked him, “doesn’t it exhaust you? being with me?”

he looked up from his guitar, brow slightly raised. “what?”

“i’m like… a mess. i’m either bouncing off the walls or freaking out. and you’re just…” you motioned vaguely toward him, “zen. all the time. it’s gotta be exhausting.”

tom set his guitar down and leaned toward you.

“you’re not exhausting.” he said.

“yeah, but—”

“you make the world louder, yeah,” he added, smirking, “but in the best way. you make it feel alive.”

you blinked, caught off guard.

he shrugged. “you fill all the quiet parts.”

and you didn’t say anything after that. just leaned into him and let the quiet settle around you both — full now, not empty.

⋆⋆⋆

the worst came when you two argued.

it started small. like it always did.

a text left on read. a call he didn’t answer. the way he’d seemed distracted the last few days — not cold, just… not present either. not the way he used to be.

your brain, already twitchy from too much energy and too little structure, didn’t need much fuel to light the match.

he’s pulling away.

he’s bored.

he’s finding someone calmer. easier. better.

you hated that voice.

hated how convincing it was when you were spiraling. hated how it made your skin itch and your breath feel too fast, too shallow. hated that it always ended the same way — a blow-up. something raw and too loud and full of fear.

and tonight, it snapped.

he’d come over late, kicked off his sneakers, kissed your cheek like always — but it wasn’t enough.

not for the storm inside you.

“where were you today?” you asked, trying to keep your voice casual. you failed.

“studio.” he said, flopping on the bed.

“with who?”

he raised an eyebrow. “the guys. same as always.”

you nodded, pacing a little. your fingers dug into the hem of your hoodie. “you didn’t answer my texts.”

“i was working.”

“you usually text me back.”

tom looked up at you then — slowly, calmly — and sat up. “okay. what’s going on?”

you bit your lip. your eyes were already stinging. “i don’t know. i just—something feels off. like… you’re drifting. like i’m talking and you’re not really here.”

his brows furrowed. “i’m literally here, baby.”

“not really,” you snapped, “not like before.”

he blinked, surprised by your tone. “where is this coming from?”

“i don’t know,” you said, voice rising, “maybe because i can feel when you’re not fully with me. maybe because you’re always so chill and unreadable and i don’t know if you’re happy or counting down the seconds until you can leave.”

his jaw tensed. “don’t do that.”

“do what?”

“put words in my mouth. assume the worst.”

“i’m not assuming, tom, i’m feeling it,” you shot back, chest tight, “and maybe that’s on me, okay? maybe i’m just paranoid or clingy or too much but i can’t turn it off.”

he stood up then, voice firmer than before. “i never said you were too much.”

“you don’t have to,” you whispered, “i see it in the way you look away when i start talking too fast. i see it in the silence. in the patience that feels more like tolerance.”

tom exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “you think i’m just tolerating you?”

you shrugged, arms crossing, trying to fold yourself into something smaller. “some days, yeah.”

he stared at you for a moment. his eyes didn’t soften — not yet. they held something like heartbreak.

“you really think i’d stay in this — with you — if i didn’t want to be?”

you sobbed, a tear slipping down before you could stop it.

“i don’t know what to think when my brain’s moving faster than i can keep up.”

that’s what did it.

he stepped forward and pulled you into his arms, tight, grounding. you were stiff at first — still wound up, still wired — but he didn’t let go.

“i don’t care how fast you spin,” he murmured into your hair, “i’m not letting go. not now. not ever.”

your fingers clutched the back of his hoodie like a lifeline.

“i hate being like this,” you choked, “i hate that i keep doubting you. i know it’s not fair.”

he pulled back just enough to cup your face. his thumb wiped the tear from your cheek, gentle but sure.

“i’d rather you come at me with all your panic than shut me out,” he said stroking your cheeks, wiping the tears away, “you can be scared. just let me be there when you are.”

you nodded, breath hitching.

“next time,” he whispered, “tell me what you need instead of what you’re afraid of.”

you swallowed. “i need you to still love me when i’m not making it easy.”

“i do,” he said, without a beat, “i always do.”

you didn’t need to change for him.

he never made you feel like you had to.

your energy didn’t scare him. your nerves didn’t push him away. your spirals, your noise, your fire — he didn’t just tolerate it. he held space for it. and somewhere along the way, you realized that maybe you didn’t have to hate the way your brain worked.

because he didn’t.

and if he could love you like this — messy, scattered, fast — then maybe you could learn to love yourself like this, too.

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

Hello! I usually don't read lawsuit AUs, (usually one of two things I just can't get my mind around happen 1. He'd never leave, that's his family! 2. They'd never be that mean, they're his family!) But I love everything you've written so far so I'm intrigued and ready to try again with someone I trust at the helm. So whatever you feel like writing for 📸 please and thank you!

Hey! i don't usually read them for similar reasons! But the request came through on my form and I thought, why not do it in a way that makes sense to me.

500 for 📸:

---

“Uh, Penny,” Buck frowns. “Eddie’s just my friend. An old friend. From when I used to live in California with Aunt Maddie.”

“Oh,” Penny says. “Okay!” 

“Drink up and back to bed, alright?” Buck says. 

Penny nods, then takes a big sip of water. After a moment, she hands the cup back to Buck. 

“Can you tuck me in again?” She whispers. 

Buck nods, then looks at Eddie.

“Do you mind waiting?” 

“Not at all,” Eddie says. 

They could end the night here, he supposes. But Eddie finds he’s sort of dying to know why Penny asked what she asked. 

▪️▪️▪️

“So, that was weird,” Buck starts when he returns from tucking Penny back into bed. He’s got two fresh, new beers, as though they’re some sort of apology. Sorry my kid thought we were dating beers. Eddie is finding the whole thing rather amusing, if he’s being honest. 

“Was it?” Eddie asks, trying to suppress a smirk. He might be finding it less funny if Buck wasn’t so flustered.

He’s always kind of liked the look of Buck flustered. Six years hasn’t changed the way that makes his stomach flutter, apparently. As loath as he might be to admit that.

“She… I mean, she was confused,” Buck says.

“Oh?” Eddie asks. “And why is that?”

He’s digging. Prying. He knows that. But he wants to know the answer. He actually feels that it’s critical he knows the answer. He’s just not sure he’ll know what to do with the information once he gets it. 

Buck sighs. “I don’t introduce her to a string of boyfriends, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

Eddie laughs. “I didn’t think that. That’s not the part I was focused on.”

“The boy part, huh?” Buck asks.

“That’d be it,” Eddie confirms. 

Buck sighs. “Yeah, uh… Well, I’m bi. So… That’s why she said that. I’ve been trying to keep my language about dating fairly gender fluid, so she doesn’t have expectations one way or another. Not that I’m dating a lot, but occasionally… She hasn’t met anyone, and now I’m rambling…”

“Hey, it’s cool,” Eddie assures him. “I just didn’t know that about you. Were you… I mean you were, but did you know…”

“When we knew each other?” Buck asks quietly. Because there’s no easy way to phrase that.

Eddie nods. “Yeah.”

Buck shakes his head. “No. Didn’t find out until I experienced a few crazy cast parties on the show. Then I was focused on Samara, and then Penny, and… Well, it’s not really been a thing I’ve had the opportunity to really think about until the past few years.”

“That makes sense,” Eddie nods.

His chest feels very tight. Like a carbonated bottled soda someone has shaken repeatedly, about to burst.

[et-cant-phone-home-no-signal]

okay slight KCD1 ramble post with mild spoilers but,,,, i just reported to Radzig at the lookout post at Talmberg after the whole ordeal at Merhojed and their little conversation was so so lovely, and i adore all the complicated conversations about fate, God, and all of that, but i've said it before on my streams that i have a theory about Radzig and Henry. no doubt everyone already knows and shit but i've avoided most spoilers thus far and have also avoided the character wiki pages so, if i'm right don't laugh and if i'm wrong, also don't laugh.....

i genuinely believe that Henry is Radzig's biological son. not only have i had my suspicions since the first fucking cutscenes with them together, but Radzig ends the conversation (with Henry already walking away and out of hearing distance) with "good luck, son". NOW, this could just be an endearment considering how gentle he's been with Henry thus far out of respect for Martin - they clearly have a history and i definitely think there's more to Martin and Anna (i've adopted that name for her) than meets the eye, especially Martin because what the hell was he doing before all of this - and that wouldn't be entirely out of character for him at this stage, especially now we've cleared out Pribyslavitz, but also???? he's never called him son before??? he calls Henry lad and boy all the time but he's never said son, and there was something in his gaze and tone that just hit me. idk this might be such an obvious thing if i'm right and i've been saying and thinking it for a little while, but man this just solidifies it more for me and if that's the case,,,, it explains so much about the way Henry is treated. if the other lords have any inkling as to who Henry actually is (maybe not Divish, but Hanush might since he and Radzig are quite close *ahem*) then that would also explain why they're as lenient with him as they are. YES i know he's under service and that allows for some leniency but bro, Henry has got to be the luckiest peasant in Bohemia with the way he's wormed his way up and into the position he's currently at, which seems a little too convenient to me. anyway.

sorry for the ramble i just really wanted to get this on paper so to speak, so i can come back later when or if i find out if i'm correct :') i truly adore how kind Radzig is with Henry - stern but caring, proud and not afraid to tell him as such, he's always giving him positive reinforcement even when he's chastising him or when Henry has done something impulsive. yeah.

[frozenwolftemplar]

(this is so long now lol) (and sorry Charls for not getting to your question about being pinged; so much else going on in this post I literally forgot)

Seconding Mari's answer about having headcanons that just rattle around in the subconscious waiting for the right prompt to bring them rushing to the fore. For instance, Mari just unlocked the Grocery Shopping Headcanon (think I'll put that in a different post; this one is long).

LOL THE TOOTHPASTE!!! I am honestly the same way: go to brush my teeth and be like 'shoot, I need more toothpaste; I should buy a tube; guess I'll borrow some tonight' and then forget to buy any...until the next time I brush my teeth; this cycle must repeat at least four times before I actually remember to buy toothpaste. This is also how Carmen functions and, like Mari said, why Shadowsan does the shopping.

Carmen: Hey, how'd you know I needed toothpaste?

Shadowsan: I have watched you go and 'borrow' Ivy's for the past five days. You are the only one who was ignorant of the fact.

Thinking about the Milan shopping trip, I can't get over those sunglasses; you know they probably cost several hundred dollars, and that is waaaaaay too much (spoken like someone who routinely loses hers lol). But his asking for them...I feel like it speaks to why none of them are too proactive in curbing her spending. Aviator shades like that- to me at least- seem like something he's always wanted but never had the money for, and now...now here they are, Carmen eager to buy them whatever they want, everything they never could have before...it's hard to want to stop that.

MARI!!!! THE SPIDERMAN PEZ!!! 🤣🤣🤣 Shadowsan tries to avoid taking Carmen to the grocery store whenever he can because he knows that, without fail, she will come back with the most useless trinket known to mankind.

Shadowsan: ...What is that?

Carmen, toying with a piece of Silly Putty: No idea. Saw it in the checkout line and thought it looked interesting. (ooh, stretchy!)

Shadowsan: (he hated American checkout lines; he was convinced that half the store's profit came from impulse buys). Did you at least remember the milk?

Carmen: (Silly Putty snaps). That's what I went to buy!

(she didn't remember).

It's part being kinda scatterbrained, but- riffing off Mari here- also no sense of self-preservation. She was raised with the philosophy that nothing was more important than her mission, basic necessities included. Remembering to buy toothpaste or food is a waste of brain space better spent planning capers; VILE will take care of all that for her. When she broke away, she just...took that mentality with her: always more important things to remember (which leaves Player and co to take VILE's role in doing the smaller things like providing basic necessities to keep her alive; good thing they don't mind).

dark!Carmen was also like this. Her crew...wasn't sure what to think.

Tigress: Wait. Let me get this straight. We are going out to buy Fedora toothpaste and soap?!?

Gray: Yup. And snacks.

Tigress: Can't she do that herself?

Gray: Apparently not.

Tigress: What are we, her nannies?

Gray, who has been feeling like just that: Yeah, I'm not answering that.

(Tigress soon begins wishing Carmen was back to being Shadowsan's problem; traitor deserves her).

THE SHAMPOO SOLUTION!!! 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 Carlotta has outwitted them all!

This post is now Legend to me; hugest thanks and thousand kudos to y'all, Charls and Mari and Skye/Max and the anon who fueled the RAMBLES!!! This has been so much fun!!!

Carmen Sandiego Money Headcanons

I said I'd do a longer post! ;)

(thanks and kudos to @mmaricarmen23 @bisexually-finger-guns @backofthepencil11 for spurring this)

-- Growing up, Carmen really only knew about money in a vague, conceptual sense: money was a thing that VILE needed in order to function and was an indicator of how valuable something was (with 'something' being the 'imports' that were brought to the Island). That's it. Once a year it needed to be...whatever Cookie Booker did, but other than that you didn't need to think about it. Pretty easy low-maintenance stuff.

-- She got a bit of a wake-up call when she left the Island and hadn't yet started lining her pockets with VILE's ill-begotten funds: apart from a roll of bills in the pocket of Cookie's coat and some of his own savings account money that Player quietly wired to her (don't tell his parents), she was flat broke. It was here that Player first grasped just how...few life skills his bestie possessed.

-- Carmen: Player, guess what? I saw this place off the highway that teaches you to ride a motorcycle and-

Player: Red. Please tell me you didn't...

Carmen: ...Why wouldn't I?

Player: How much did this cost?

Carmen: I dunno, a hundred?

Player: RED!!! THAT'S LIKE YOUR MOTEL ROOMS FOR THE WEEK!

Carmen: But! I can ride a motorcycle now. 😎

-- He is now bestie/hacker/money manager

-- Once they joined her, Zach and Ivy had a hard time wrapping their heads around (a) how much money their new friend had (b) how freely she spent it, and (c) how willing their new- boss? friend? something?- is to spend it on them.

Zach: Whoa! You wanna eat here? Isn't it kinda...expensive? (it's literally an Olive Garden)

Carmen: No worries; tab's on me. 😉

Zach: ....Ives, we died and went to Heaven. 😍

Carmen: ...We're in Ohio?

-- It was...hard to get used to. Especially for Ivy; she'd been the one to manage the money when her and Zach were on their own (he would have spent it all at McDonald's, something he has freely admitted) and is well aware of how much things costs and what smart spending looks like. Seeing someone basically burning through a bank account (never mind it seems to be bottomless?) is...well.

Ivy: Boss, you can't buy these! $400 is way too much for sunglasses!

Carmen: ...It is?

Ivy: .....YES!!!

-- And she just...doesn't feel completely comfortable with sponging off someone they just met, even if she is really nice and offering to pay for room service and hotel room movie rentals and anything else they could ever need or want. That's not the world she came from; in her experience, everyone has an angle they're playing, and money is how they keep you beholden to them. Plus this whole vigilante thing? Yeah, it had to be a one-and-done for this...she wants to say 'heiress?' She made that mistake with Eddie, and she's not making it again.

-- Zach is more comfortable with the spending sprees. He's a little uneasy at first (he, too, knows the value of a dollar), but quickly and easily adapts to a life where he doesn't have to feel shy about asking for seconds.

-- Update: Carmen really doesn't have an angle; they really are doing this vigilante thing, she really is footing the bill, and she really expects nothing in return. She also, Ivy quickly realizes, has no idea how money works beyond buying things. Good thing she has practice explaining this stuff to Zach

Ivy: The drugstore sells pairs for less than $12 that work just as well. Just go there to-

Carmen, already wearing the sunglasses: Still getting these

Ivy: At one point, my entire wardrobe cost less than that. Think about that for a minute.

-- This is not going to be easy.

-- Shadowsan feels some guilt for not teaching Carmen about money management better, and for being the reason she spends like it's her last day on earth (which it could be with VILE hunting them but we're doing that today), but he doesn't take much action beyond occasionally remarking on something being too expensive. It's not like he was responsible with money when he was her age. Or ever.

-- No one pursues money management 101 in earnest, though. Ivy and Zach and Shadowsan and Player...they all know how unfair the world can be, and all know what it is to be dealt a bad hand. They all (well, the kids; Shadowsan has Guilt (TM)), to an extent, kind of....feel they deserve this (hey! tons of people far worse than them get to have nice things; why can't they?). They want and like this lifestyle, of jet setting and high living, the fantasy come real. It's fun, and really nice to not have to worry about being unable to afford their next meal or next month's rent. Plus they like the perks; the cars and tools, the bayside warehouse and the super-fast CPU Player wouldn't have been able to afford otherwise. It's hard to want to stop all that.

-- Maybe they can just...ignore that part of Carmen's Life Skills curriculum? Wolfe's secret accounts were seized by VILE, so a good chunk of this ill-begotten money is technically Carmen's by rights. The interest alone is a king's ransom, so she...doesn't really need to learn budgeting, right?

-- Carlotta disagrees.

-- She wants her daughter to be able to manage her own money. Responsibly.

Carlotta: Hija, you spent almost $200 (US dollars for simplicity's sake) on shampoo this month. Do you truly think that's sustainable?

Carmen: ...Yeah? I mean, I recycle the bottle.

Carlotta: Dear Lord. 🤦‍♀️

-- It's hard to see just how ignorant she is about money; it just reminds her how her baby was raised to be a weapon against humanity, one who was never meant to exist outside VILE. But stewing over it won't change matters, and anyway, after missing so much of her life, she actually welcomes to chance to teach her daughter Life Skills. And anyway, Carmen has a good head on her shoulders; how hard could it be?

Carlotta: Now, mira, see these bottles? The same size as the expensive one, but cost far less. You'd have more money for other necessities.

Carmen: Like the expensive shampoo?

Carlotta: ....Like food.

-- This may take longer than she thought...

[just-null]

Do you ever do requests? If so, do you ever plan on drawing some Yandere with the Hantengu clones? :D hope you have a good day/night!!!

Mentioning an unfamiliar name

yes!! I love yanderes.. and these guys.. these guys are such good material...... nods nods..

I'm not sure about requests..I assume you mean drawing requests? I suppose if it REALLY catches my interest enough, I'd do it, but it'd probably just be line art/sketches.

[faislittlewhiteraven]

Been having some ISaT tech level and timeline (as in 'when backstory things happened') thoughts and want to ramble a bit:

Tech

ISaT's setting is based on your classic sword and sorcery fantasy JRPG so its easy to assume that tech wise everything is 'fantasy medieval' and call it a day but consider:

Body Craft is at bare minimum is magic sex changing surgery (earliest known equivent in our world dating to 1930) that any old person can learn to do safely on themselves in only a few months, and more likely has many many broader applications like regular old surgery, the 'combat healing' Mira and Sif use, etc.

Cameras and photos are rare enough that Odile comments on it (namely she's happy the group get a photo in the House due to them being 'so rare') yet are also common enough that everyone in the party knows about them and doesn't question the existence of a camera beyond being surprised that the mirror was one. (In our world cameras date back to the 19th century, with the earliest manufacturing of them being in 1839). 

Printing presses and ways to make plenty of paper to feed those presses given absolutely everyone in this game can read, expects everyone else to know how to, and both mass produced book series and newspapers are a thing. (Note: Printing presses have existed since waaaay back but it's the mass paper manufacturing that makes newspapers and The Cursing of Chateu Castle possible that really has my eyebrows raised here, especially since neither Siffrin or Odile find either odd in any way, indicating such things are common everywhere, and while newspapers have been around since 1604 in our world, mass produced fantasy books didn't really take off until the start of the 20th century).

Food production and storage: despite being in the middle of a national disaster that almost certainly cut off trade networks and access to most suppliers for literal months now, Bonnie, a small child, is able to easily get their hands on fresh Pineapple, curry ingredients (for samosa), potatoes, plantains etc with no issues or anyone commenting on this being unusual or lucky. Oh and the only character who even brings up the concept of potential starvation is the Fishing One, and only in a sort of 'we're not at risk now but sooner or later...' kinda way due to noticing that the fish they fish up for fun are disappearing and likely being frozen. So yeah, that heavily implies Vaugarde has very good food storage tech/Craft (possibly better than ours), and likely also good food production and harvesting tech/skills also.

The Island's incredible knowledge of the stars: while the oldest known orrery in our world is dated from around 205 to 87 BC (ancient Greek, earth centric model), the fact Sif -who would've learnt this as a child/teen- is so very certain that stars are big balls of fire made up of gas is interesting as that's something our world couldn't prove the theory of until around the 1900s (note: it'd been theorized a LONG time but Sif talks like its complete facts to them . Additionally the earliest existing record of a telescope in our world dates to a 1608 patent and we see one of those in game.

Post posting EDIT: A wonderful user qds-place pointed out that Mirabelle has anti-anxiety medication in her room. This is in both ISaT and SAaP and though we're not sure what form the medication takes (pills? Valium? Megitech esc Craft boosters???) the fact they specifically have 'anti anxiety' medication at all (as opposed to idk dragging Mira off and drugging her through the gills) is kind of impressive and if it IS modern anti anxiety pills those could be as recent in creation as the 1950s! So um. Some high levels of tech implied in chemistry there <3

So... yeah. All this, plus the fact that the highest tech implied area, The Island, literally specialised in the study/Craft of turning wishes into reality (for a long enough time period that Wish Craft is culturally so ingrained in the King and Sif that they do it without thinking and it seems intertwined with their nation's religion) has been completely erased from memory to the point anything heavily associated with them has been forgotten, and also we only ever see Dormont aka a little village well away from the cities, it's not hard to conclude that you can basically justify giving the ISaT world any level of tech you want, so long as you lock any of the truly 'setting breaking' stuff like planes and rockets behind The Island's forgetting curse (I would've said trains too but thinking about it trains were invented in 1802 so it's honestly easy to imagine that they totally exist in the ISaT setting/Vaugarde but aren't ever on screen because rail is way too dangerous to consider using while the Curse is active and potentially time freezing things on the tracks).

Side note: We know absolutely nothing about Vaugarde's transport system but as a fan of fantasy RPGs it is honestly a travesty I have yet to see a fic that has flying dragons/wyverns or other fantasy mounts in setting. Like, ok yes, the party would probably have wanted to use those but maybe they don't like the Curse and fled? Maybe the King's Curse targeted them first? Maybe all their handlers dropped the heroes off in Dormont and said 'Well Saviors it's been fun, but well me and Scales here are off to Poteria until things wrap up so best of luck to you' before buggering off?

This isn't really a serious complaint just. Me reminding myself/potentially other fanwork writers out there that there's a lot about the setting we just don't know about and limiting all travel to walking, horse drawn carriage and boat is not actually required. (Also please mix up travelling to the Island. Boats are a wonderful classic and have great thematic vibes for Sif's original leaving of the Island but like. Imagine the sheer in-universe wtf of the memories of The Island suddenly coming back and people on the north coast suddenly realising there's a massive bridge, subway or underwater tunnel leading there that everyone just forgot about - potentially filled with all kinds of Sadnesses that need taking down. Or Warp Panels in a House of Change, idk XD).

Timeline

Canon notes first:

Bonnie is a preteen (8 to 12), Mira and Isa are in their early to mid 20s (with Isa slightly older), Sif is late 20s to 30, and Odile is 40+ Nille is stated to be around 18 to 20.

Siffrin ran away from home when they were a teenager (13 to 17? 18?) and this is heavily implied to be when the Island was Forgotten.

Bonnie (in ISaT specifically*) says that Nille told them that when it happened all the adults were talking about it, hence why they think The Island is close to their village. *In Start Again a Prologue, Bonnie says that they themself remember the adults talking about the Island disappearing, which er. Is a bit impossible given they likely weren't even born yet when that happened but that can be explained away by AU differences, InsertDisc5 still finalising details between SAaP and ISaT, and/or OG Siffrin having been in the loops so long they weren't actually listening when Bonnie was talking and just 'scripted' in their head something 'close enough' to what Bonnie was saying to get the idea (note: mentioned that idea before in my post here on the differences between the House and King in Start Again vs In Stars and Time for anyone curious so er please feel free to give that a read if you haven't already).

Odile mentions remembering 'when it happened' as well and has been 'travelling for years'.

The King 'appeared out of nowhere' sometime in his adulthood, and lived in the city of Corbeaux for a few years before he became the King.

The King became the King as was freezing people in time long enough before his attack on the House of Dormont that everyone inside knew he was coming, there were a wall's worth of newspaper articles about him, and everyone was expecting Euphrasie to defeat him.

Mirabelle's quest began 'almost a year ago' and Sif lost their eye 'recently'.

Thoughts on the above:

Calculating when The Island was forgotten:

Sif being mid 20s to 30 and having run away from home as a teen means that The Island has to have been forgotten somewhere between 9 to 17 years ago with nine only possible if he ran away at age 17 and is only age 26 now, and seventeen being the far opposite if he ran at age 13 and is currently 30.

To narrow down the timeline: Given Sif ran away from home because he 'didn't want to eat his veggies' and 'just wanted to scare [his] parents a little bit' it's probably safe to assume Siffrin was likely on the younger end of the teen spectrum (teens run off all the time sure but with loving parents and over veggies? That screams 'kid who has not yet learned that freaking out the parents will get their ass grounded and/or yelled at a LOT and is therefore best saved for doing fun forbidden stuff that ideally the parents will never find out about' XD) Additionally given Siffrin can't remember his age/birthday etc but Isabeau outright says near the beginning of the game "But you're older than most of the people here?" meaning Sif must be visibly older than Isa or Mira, so he's probably closer to 30 than not.

Those alone would imply the Island likely disappeared closer to the '17 years ago' side of things BUT Nille (tops 20 years old) told Bonnie that "[the Island's disappearance] was all the adults would talk about for ages" and kids usually can't remember anything prior to 4 years of age so with that in mind...

I'd say The Island most likely disappeared between 13 to 16 years ago.

Nille stuff:

This is more a general mention but. Nille is tops 20 years old. Bonnie is between 8 and 12 and doesn't remember their parents at all.

This means Nille ran away with Bonnie and gained emancipation and custody of Bonnie (if Vaugarde has formalised that kind of legal stuff) while she was at most 12 years old herself and could have in theory been as young as 6..!

Regardless, it's very likely the original home situation was that bad, Nille deserves a ton of credit for raising Bonnie as well as she has and I'd say it's very VERY likely she had a lot of help from villagers in Bambosche and/or the local House of Change in doing so. ...But also Bonnie is very adamantly 'my sister and village' and not 'my sister and [specific names who live with us]' so there's clearly by the time Bonnie was 4 or so they were living in their own place so... Yeah. Lotta drive for independence there too it seems (so the party might have more trouble adopting Nille into their group post ISaT than Bonnie might expect).

King stuff:

Already an adult 13 to 16 years ago so at bare minimum 33. Given his vibe probably much older though.

Newspapers get printed pretty quick though for there to be so much speculation and research done into his background so quick, either Vaugarde has some form of fast messaging system (something like a Chappe telegraph on top of the Houses of Change? Odile I think does mention that they'll have a message sent to let Nille know they'll be returning Bonnie...) or the King was freezing stuff for IDK around a month or two before reaching Dormont? Alas can't find out how long it takes to walk across all of France out very easily (I'm sure the numbers are out there but my brain is pudding rn) but if we had those numbers we could probably make some guesstimates based off the rough sketched map of Vaugarde InsertDisk5 did... Which I would link but apparently the tumblr post I had it linked on has been deleted???? 'wails at this very unhappy development'

Mira's journey and Sif's eye:

We really don't know a lot but almost a year ago gives us somewhere around 9 to 11 months to spread the journey out along and after eye removal surgery the patient can out and about as soon as 2 to 6 weeks after, maybe sooner with magic healing (though full recovery/growing used to the changed spacial awareness -which Sif clearly does not have- probably can't be sped up and takes around 3 to 6 months) so um. I'd guestimate Sif's eye injury is really recent; like two months ago tops recent. ...Which sorta explains a lot of why Bonnie is not dealing with it right now and also why the others might be trying to avoid bringing it up (since Sif clearly loves avoiding the issue but they haven't yet realised that maybe they really should bring it up even if it annoys them anyway?)

Odile with some Ka Bue speculation:

When it comes to The Island, how did Odile, presumably living in Ka Bue at the time, remember 'when it happened'? Was the Island well known enough even on the other side of the world that it's disappearance made waves? Or was Odile herself or someone she's close to paying attention to the region? (Like maybe her dad or a friend is/was into politics or trade, keeping up with overseas news and got concerned it could happen to Ka Bue? I'd say 'I remember when it happened' line implies it was more immediate knowledge than being informed by a messenger much later though...)

As for Odile's 'years of travel' I have to wonder, what's left behind for her in Ka Bue? She brings up going back there quite a bit, might just miss home and possibly her father if he's still alive, but given it took her years to get here for something so personal rather than idk 'materially rewarding' I think Odile might have some kinda family estate or something back in Ka Bue... Something she wasn't worried about potentially losing while far away, but solid enough to want to return to, beyond her father who she'd definitely want to see again if he's still around. (...But given how open she is to chilling about Vaugarde a few more months with the others, I really don't think he is alive, since well, given their respective ages and travel between Vaugarde and Ka Bue apparently taking years, there'd definitely an uncomfortably high chance of him passing away while she's gone and that seems like the thing that'd stress Odile out so... Yeah. Probably got an estate in Ka Bue she'd like to take the Family to visit/possibly sell off if she decides she'd like to live with them in Vaugarde so... Just my off the cuff headcanoning here and hoping that gives others ideas or something).

---

Anyway that's all the ramble I've got in me so... yeah! Hope this was interesting and useful for those needing a bit of a 'possible tech'/timeline calcs breakdown for the Island + a few more vague things and um. Probably will post a long winding ramble about my attempt at a ISaT Selkie AU fic I've been working on next <3 (Not to be confused with looped-140-and-counting's already existing and quite wonderful Selkie Siffrin AU which already has a completed oneshot fic, a snippet of sequel, two snippets of prequel/Sif flashbacking and I believe a comic too, all of which I highly recommend <3)

[1-800-i-ship-it]

omg i just finished orv im going insane im im i can finally look at that doc of things i saved for after i finished orv and can look at spoilers...i can finally unblock that orv spoiler tag...im so normal about orv

[claitea]

i know i shouldnt dwell on stupid opinions like this but a while ago i saw someone complain that Applin was a boring concept bc its just a worm in an apple and i was FLOORED. this iirc was in response to smth about gen 1 designs being boring as well

its not just a worm its a Wyrm its a pun. that is a concept. maybe you don't like it personally but to say its objectively bad is certainly Something. not every pokemon has to be based on a myth or something else fantastical to be a good concept. you Need "boring" pokemon for the dex to feel complete, if Everything is Cool then nothing is actually cool

"gamefreak is running out of ideas" yeah there's a billion fish pokemon but they're all actually very different to each other, lanturn is an anglerfish and lumineon is a butterfly fish. say what you will abt gamefreak rn its probably warranted but imo the one thing they still do right 100% of the time is unique concepts for each pokemon. the execution can be debated but the fundamentals are always there

[om340700]

i like to think that my mc has huge ass mer dca plushies & belphie takes them every once in a while

[cinnbar-bun]

I hope this isn’t a weird question and I’m asking like,,, very nicely because I’m just curious because you often discuss novels but why do you like American Psycho? Like just cuz it’s a horror or smth? Your other recommendations were interesting so I was wondering what your thoughts are

Not weird at all, but sorry the English major in me is gonna pop the hell out and sorry this will be boring and long because I have so many feelings on the book and the movie and the other Ellis novels in general and I think some literary theory being applied to it really takes it beyond its shallow surface viewing of “guy who kills people”.

I will try to keep this short somewhat and I will try to avoid getting graphic and spoilery but beyond that, I do wanna start off with as a WOC in America I’ve always loved stories that tackle the American condition and ideology. It’s easy to write it off sometimes- what’s the difference if X story is in England for example and while yes that can be true, I feel most of the novels I hold important to me (Ellis, Toni Morrison, etc.) is a uniquely American thing. It’s so rooted in American culture and societal values it just personally touches me as a woc who has immigrant parents.

Now tying it back into the last paragraph, American Psycho is at its core a satire, and the novel is especially important for its place during Reagan’s presidency (and honestly a lot of the problems in the novel ARE traced back to Reagan’s policies and Reaganomics), presumably before Black Monday- so this is PEAK Reagan era American consumerist before what is going to be the worst economic crash in the world since the Great Depression.

Patrick is a symptom of the larger problem Ellis tackles- Yuppie culture and American consumption as well as identity politics. I’ve seen the theories of Patrick being a repressed gay man and I thought similarly along with coinciding with Ellis being a gay man who said that Patrick was something of Ellis’s own thoughts at the time. Patrick’s rage I kinda related to in a way (and not in Gahhhhhh I’m gonna murder and drug people!!) but as a warped sense of self and self hatred and repression for what you are.

And before you get the idea that means, Oh so Ellis is a fucking weirdo- I mean, maybe- but you have to read deeper into that and it’s that Patrick has no identity. Sure we read about him, but he effectively has no identity or connection to others. He is routinely mistaken for others, reality is a false construct, perhaps he did nothing or perhaps he did everything he said he did. The ways you can examine American Psycho over and over again is soooooo incredible. Whether it’s from a racial, sexual, or cultural lens I like to take a moment because yes the graphic violence is jarring but that is the point. It’s an over the top parody of what is the real issue- identity and culture. Ex: Patrick is a repressed gay man so he actively goes after women to lie/convince himself otherwise, Patrick is a white man with a rich dad so he gets away with it, Patrick is so empty inside he has to turn to substance abuse and cruelty to get any feeling, Patrick is so lost on who he is he is mistaken for XYZ.

The movie does make the satirical aspects more clear because Christian Bale is performing as Patrick in such an exaggerated way that it’s comical and emphasizes how ridiculous this shit is. I also think as time goes on the novel becomes more ‘important’ and very reflective of the world we live in (considering Patrick is such a fan of Trump to the point of idol worship and needing to be consoled by Trumpisms and this was New York in the late 1880s so like even then that was ridiculous) especially with our current situation now it’s a bit of something to reflect on imo.

So yeah! Just a condensed form of what I feel but honestly I feel and think and have thought waayyyyy more about the film and novel and every progressive viewing or reading as I get older always highlights something new to me. Ellis also is an interesting writer to me, can’t say if he’ll be good for you but in American Psycho specifically as an example because they all spend so much time describing outfits and brands, Ellis knew that people would just skip ahead whenever they did so he just started describing wackier shit and the details about for example Patrick taking his clothes to the laundromat it’s so much more thoughtful than you think.

[caterpillarinacave]

i saw in the tags of your henry and mortmain posts that you’d like people to ask you about them :) — and tbh i’d love to hear more about the parallels between them that you mention in the post :D

Before I begin, I’m so sorry I took so so long to answer! I have been pretty busy and could definitely do a longer breakdown of all this but it’s already been a month and it’s going to drive me insane if I leave thing unanswered any longer. 

I’ll need to do a full re-read of the trilogy to really answer the questions but here are some thoughts that are very interesting to me. Please excuse any incoherent-ness, (and grammar issues, and repetition issues, and poor citation, and spelling, and rambling, etc, etc) i have spent so long staring at the document i wrote this on trying to get my brain to work I may have totally lost the plot. Just trust me guys I’ve got a PhD in Henry Fairchild.  

Lets start off with the most obvious parallel, that being their work. On a strictly physical level the work they do is very similar- they both approach magic through science and vice versa in a notably unique fashion. Stylistically and functionally the things each of them create has a decently sized overla and Henry has no problem understanding Mortmain’s creations. Mortmain favors clockwork for his creations and while Henry doesn’t specifically focus on such things he is very familiar with them, and interested to boot. 

Mortmain is quite brilliant, in multiple ways. Most people could not manage the type of thing he pulls off consistently; Henry *probably* could. It’s worth noting Henry is severely limited by Shadowunter laws; in the third book we see the only reason he hasn’t invented a portal entirely by himself is because he can only work with a specific set of runes (Clockwork Princess, pg. 282). Even working in the tight restraints of Shadowhunter resources, and only being around 21 in the books, he’s extremely competent. 

Furthermore, Henry does not approach things with the period typical Shadowhunter judgement; as a matter of fact he essentially does not function within society as a Shadowhunter. To unpack that lets look at where Mortmain and Henry stand in relation to broader society. 

The London Shadowhunters in this time period can be described, for lack of a better word, as pissy. Judgmental, bored, aggressive, whiny, chronically dissatisfied, dramatic, dismissive, sometimes downright cruel, etc, etc. Pissy. They’re really pissy. 

Henry, objectively speaking, does not fit into all this, and is punished for it (see pgs 281-283 CP3). The general public treats him horribly. Recall in Clockwork Angel Charlotte tells Tessa that Henry was the one who told Mortmain what a Pyxis was (which is, again, a different rant), that he wants her to tell the Clave and that she won’t because “they already treat him so badly”. And they do- nearly every single interaction involving him and broader Shadowhunter society involves some sort of insult, mockery, slight, etc. Almost nobody but Charlotte ever objects to this behavior and her objections have zero effect. “Making fun of Henry” is pretty much an unopposed standard. 

There’s no fair reason for this. Henry is, by all accounts, an extremely pleasant person. He’s repeatedly described as “kind”- Tessa has him pinned as a trustworthy person almost immediately (“it’s only Henry, after all”). He’s rarely upset, laid back, well intentioned, and generally polite. He doesn’t have a mean bone in his body. 

Imo he probably would have been treated better if he did respond in kind- or even if he had just fully withdrawn from Shadowhunter society. His persistent refusal to hold a grudge, a generally positive trait, shoots him in the foot. This is only compounded by his general disinterest in things like physical fighting, politics, and social structure. He hasn’t done anything wrong- quite the opposite- but he’s being punished by his peers for the crime of being earnestly odd (coughhasblatantlyautisticcough). 

Mortmain, being a human child raised by warlocks, obviously does not fit into any particular standard. He doesn't have any particular loyalty to a party. Rather, he mostly defines his identity with his hatred for Shadowhunters, and connects with other groups transactionally with this in mind. 

He has been wronged by the Shadowhunters, when his parents were killed and then in the aftermath. The Clave denying his request for reparations and, by extent, denying any wrongdoing in their actions, is a smack in the face from a powerful society. 

With this in mind they would be both well within their rights to resent the Shadowhunters and they respond to that in fully opposite ways. 

Henry doesn’t resent them- at all. Despite how horribly he is treated, which, one can note, does not stop after the battle of Cadair Idris, he chooses to let it go and actively work to make life better for those same people. (Clockwork Prince; “You know it isn't just tinkering for me. You know I want to create something that will make the world better, that will make things better for the Nephilim.”), He views that cruelty as a part of life as a Shadowhunter but not the defining part of that society. It’s just a thing that happens- it sucks, it hurts, but he’s not going to blame or punish the whole group because of it. 

Mortmain’s is entirely the opposite. He hates them and views all the Shadowhunters as irredeemably wrong, fully deserving of a violent fate. All of them. He’s obsessed with destroying all these people despite most of the individuals who hurt him directly being gone. He blames them all, intends to carry out a mass punishment and doesn’t care about anything else.

He is deeply resentful, yeah, but he also wants more for himself. He doesn’t just want revenge, he wants a disgusting amount of power, a total victory over anything he choses, power mainly for the sake of having power. 

Now we can circle back to that earlier point- Henry could be like Mortmain. 

Recall in Clockwork Angel when they first bring back the automaton for Henry to examine in his lab he’s not just interested in the machine- he’s excited about it.He recognizes it to be a brilliant work of science and design, something incredibly impressive and compelling. This is not the sort of thing anyone sees everyday and it’s certainly not the sort of thing a Shadowhunter would interact with. This is exactly the sort of thing he loves, the sort of thing nobody else ever brings up, and it’s exciting to see. 

As the books continue nobody else is ever caught up on the functional skills of the machinery itself. People talk about Mortmain, about what is happening, what to do, etc, etc, but the fact that the automatons are a feat of engineering is just not on anybody's radar. It’s not the sort of thing any Shadowhunter gives shit about, save Henry. 

So Henry has the same intellectual capacity as Mortmain, the same scientific and magical capacity, and a not dissimilar approach to thinking. 

He could pretty much disappear and do whatever he wanted forever. He could ditch the Nephilim. He could walk off without telling anybody and never bother with the Clave’s again. He could go off and study all the things Shadowhunter’s are banned from. He could create whatever he wanted completely unencumbered by the restrictions of the Nephilim (see pg.283 of CP3). Chances are nobody would pick up on it. One of the major flaws of that group of Shadowhunters is that they’re very self focused. If someone they aren’t particularly fond of, who doesn’t fit into their narrow view of someone that deserves respect, stops showing up and interacting with them they are not gonna make any real effort to figure out where they’ve gone. If Henry wasn’t around to “annoy” them none of them wouldn't go looking for him and they don’t have enough respect for innovation to wonder what he’s up to. 

Remember, nobody cares about what he does (Clockwork Princess: Henry blushed a scarlet color. It was clear that no one had ever complimented his inventing before, except perhaps Charlotte. Pg. 282 ) 

He could have a whole new world of resources without having to deal with a society that thoroughly rejects him. He could do the one thing everyone thinks he loves the most. Hell, from an outsider point of view, the only thing he loves. He’ll happily spend days straight working, forgetting to eat, sleep, or anything else.

It’s theoretically not difficult to imagine a universe where he skips out of Shadowhunter society completely and has been wandering around the same circles as Mortmain for forever. 

(He doesn’t ofc because that would be betrayal. It would require breaking the law, throwing away all social and civic responsibility, abandoning the whole kit and kaboodle, blah blah, certainly not related to other very elaborate thoughts I have about this character.)

The point here is that they are so similar save that fact. Their scientific approach to the world, which absolutely defines that way Henry exists and, at least at some point in his life, probably defined Mortmain, are so similar. If you laid the basic facts all out to someone with no context other previous knowledge on the characters (here is what they do, here is what they’re best at, here is what they bring physically to the table etc and exclude personality, morality, relationships, etc) and asked them to point out a character most like Mortmain they’d probably point to Henry. 

Hell, I’d point to Henry. I’d say yeah, that’s a set up for someone to go full mad scientist and wander off to do whatever he wants. I’d say that's the character most likely to agree to use human bodies to power machinery. 

Recall back to Clockwork Angel (and like, two paragraphs ago) about the automatons that are so fascinating to Henry. The beginning scene is the most exciting he  ever is about this incredible tech:

“[The automaton] is not precisely a living creature at all… A mechanical creature, made to move and appear as a human being moves and appears. Leonardo da Vinci designed one. You can find it in his drawings- a mechanical creature that could sit up, walk, and turn its head. He was the first to suggest that human beings are only complex machines, that our insides are like cogs and pistons and cams made of muscle and flesh. So why could they not be replaced with copper and iron? Why couldn’t you build a person? But this. Jaquet Droz and Maillardet could never have dreamed of this. A true biomechanical automaton, self moving, self directing, wrapped in human flesh.” His eyes shone. “It’s beautiful.” 

“Henry.” Charlotte’s voice was tight. “That flesh you’re admiring. It came from somewhere.” 

Henry passed the back of his hand across his forehead, the light dying out of his eyes. “Yes- those bodies in the cellar.” (pg. 160-161, Clockwork Angel. )

That characteristic earnest excitement that he displays towards nearly everything new dies on the spot. “Miranda” and the other automatons are not less interesting because they’re made with human body parts- if anything that should make it more interesting. But the scientific brilliance is negated by the cruelty associated with it. It’s impressive, it’s “beautiful” and it’s not worth it. Innovation that opposes life, as opposed to promoting it, doesn’t count (see tags). 

So their work, especially in this context, is interchangeable- it’s their intentions that make the whole difference. 

Tessa says it best in Clockwork Princess; Henry brings things to life. Mortmain destroys. Where one of them has devoted his life to protecting people, regardless of how he’s been treated, the other one has devoted himself to slaughtering people, because of how he was treated. Where one invents with the specific intention of protecting life 

In other words, two very very similar people differentiated by a fundamental love for humanity and a fundamental disregard of it. 

TLDR: I need to reread the books to make this post but their style of work, approach to science and magic, and interests parallel. Also I have no idea if I’m coherent anymore please ranting in the tags for thoughts on everything here. 

TLDR the TLDR: They’re both inventing shit in a series hinged around these things that have been invented

[mustangs-flames]

OH MY GOSH MUSTANG. HOW COULD YOU? THEY'VE BEEN THROUGH ENOUGH.

Also Idk how it took me so long to see the pattern of sons growing up to act like their father in the same way that made them traumatized. It makes me worried for Adam, who had 2 dads that were both terrible.

It's only going to get worse for them tbh :)

Quite a lot of the characters perpetuate cycles from their parents at some point in the story. Part 6 really focuses on Mark's anger issues and Cian's inability to handle grief in a healthy way and the substance abuse (alcohol) he ends up relying on to try and cope when smoking isn't enough anymore. They both have to break it in order to move forward but they do some shitty things whilst trapped in their spirals, which is supposed to link/parallel to m!Cesar's acceptance of humanity and becoming a better person. Something something, even after you've done bad things you can still do better, but you have to actively make the choice and work hard at it, you know?

Idk if any of that makes sense but it will as Part 6 comes out lmao