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joelsgreys · 10 months

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to hell and back l two

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

series masterlist l main masterlist l next chapter

summary: After escaping a group of brutal slavers, you are left with permanent physical and emotional scars. Unwilling to put your trust in another human being ever again, you spend a year fighting for survival alone in the post outbreak world. But when you choose to save the life of a man named Joel Miller, the wall that you’ve built to protect yourself slowly begins to crumble.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. canon violence, canon language, reader has a flashback, mentions of slavers, implied threat of assault, guns, reader gets groped, reader has a panic attack, a lot of angst, trauma. soft Joel, protective Joel, and i even threw in some domestic Joel because just imagine that old man making you a nice lil late night snack. 🥹 i think i got most of the major warnings out of the way, i’m sorry if i missed anything!

Word Count: 8.7k

Smoke was coming off my jacket

and you didn’t seem to mind

I left a long trail of ashes and

you said, I like your style

California l Spring, 2023

Your hand trembled slightly as you gripped your pistol and aimed it at his chest.

You’d never pointed your gun at another human being before. At least not one that was still alive.

“Hey now, it’s alright. You can trust us.”

Anxiously, you glimpsed from the man who had just spoken to the woman who stood beside him.

Surely the two had to be related. Both possessed the same fiery red hair, a face full of freckles, and vivid green eyes. They stood before you with their weapons lowered in an attempt to show you that they weren’t a threat to your safety.

The man, who had to be in his mid to late thirties, moved to step forward, but halted in his tracks when he caught sight of the way your finger had twitched over the trigger. “My name is Mark,” he said, carefully gesturing to himself with his free hand. In his opposite hand, he clutched his rifle, an assault style weapon that made your gun look like a fucking toy in comparison. Still, it was you who had the upper hand, at least for now. “This here is my sister. Her name is Jessa.” He paused and when you said nothing, he asked, “Can you tell us your name?”

Chewing your bottom lip, you shook your head at him in response.

You didn’t trust them.

Not quite yet.

Jessa, who was younger and looked to be closer to your own age, offered you a kind smile. “That’s alright. You don’t have to tell us your name until you feel comfortable.” She took a look around at the small, makeshift camp that you had made for yourself. “Are you all by yourself, sweets?”

You quickly wracked your brain.

“No,” You fibbed. “I’m with my father. He should be back any minute now. He’s armed and he does not take all too kindly to strangers, so you’d best be on your way before he sees you.” You added in a steadier tone, “He won’t even think twice. He’ll just kill you on the spot, so you better leave right now. Or else.”

Amused, Mark let out a soft chuckle. “Oh, come on now, dollface. You don’t have to lie to us,” he stated, shaking his head. “Let’s try this again and let’s be honest this time, alright? How long have you been alone?”

Your throat bobbed as you swallowed harshly.

Fuck.

He had seen right through the bullshit threat.

“For about three or four days now,” You admitted, your shoulders sagging in defeat. “I was with my father and my sister. The three of us were on our way up north. We were trying to get to Seattle to the quarantine zone, but then they were—”

You suddenly stopped.

It felt like someone had driven their fist right into your gut, knocking all the wind out of your lungs and hindering your ability to speak.

You couldn’t even say it out loud.

Gruesome images of them being torn apart limb from limb flashed through your mind. Bile slowly started climbing its way up your throat and your stomach churned violently.

You were going to be sick.

“Are they both dead?” Mark questioned you.

You nodded, whispering shakily, “Yes.”

Jessa frowned. “I’m so sorry for your loss, honey. If it’s any consolation, me and Mark know exactly how it feels. We lost our entire family about three years ago. It’s the hardest thing we’ve ever been through.” Swinging back her own rifle behind her, she approached you and reached out, placing her hand over yours—the one that was still clutching your weapon. She didn’t even so much as flinch at the way the barrel was now pointed at her, how it was just an inch or two away from her chest. It didn’t seem to faze her that all it would take was you bringing your index finger down a bit harder on the trigger and she would be dead. “We know you must be fucking terrified, but it’s okay. You can trust us. We’re good, honest people and we just want to help you. But we can’t do that if you try and kill us, now can we?”

Slowly, Jessa guided you to lower your gun. She then looked over her shoulder, exchanging a look with her brother, as if asking him to back her up.

“Yeah. She’s right. We just want to help you,” he repeated after her. “We aren’t going to hurt you. If we wanted to, we probably would have by now, don’t you think so?”

You let out a tiny breath you hadn’t even realized you’d been holding and loosened your iron grip on your pistol.

He did make a fair point.

Now that your gun was pointed at the ground, he could have easily killed you. And yet, he’d made no move to blow your fucking head off.

Maybe they really were good people.

But what if they weren’t?

What if it was just a trap?

You didn’t know what to fucking think.

All you knew was that you were so helplessly lost now that your family was gone.

You were afraid.

Alone.

Jessa turned back to you. “Listen, we’re part of a settlement,” she informed you. “It’s not all too far from here, maybe six or seven miles tops. We’ve got a really big group of people and we’re always looking to bring in anyone in need. Come with us, sweets. There’s plenty of food, water, and we can you into some fresh, clean clothes too. How does that sound?”

You momentarily hesitated, still unsure whether or not you could trust the two strangers.

How did it sound?

It sounded too fucking good to be true.

“It’s a safe place,” Mark assured you from behind her. He could see the reluctance written all over your face.

“It’s as safe as safe can be,” Jessa promised. She touched your arm and flashed you another smile, one that was more kind than the first—one that was so comforting it made you feel like you could actually trust her. “So? What do you say? Will you come back with us? Will you let us help you?”

You nervously bit the inside of your cheek.

Scared, starving, and exhausted, their offer for a safe haven was much too tempting to decline.

Besides, how long could you possibly survive out here all on your own?

“Alright,” You finally agreed after a moment. “I’ll come with you.”

“There’s just one condition,” Mark stated, falling into step beside his sister in front of you. “We’re going to need you to hand over your weapon.”

“What?” You stared at him. “Why?”

“Oh, don’t worry. It’s protocol,” he said, waving a hand dismissively at you. “It’s purely for safety reasons. Anyone who comes into our group must surrender their weapons. We want to be sure that we’re bringing in someone who isn’t going to be a threat to our people. We have children, so we just want to be cautious, you know?”

“I guess that does makes sense,” You admitted.

“You’ll get it back,” Jessa reassured you. “Once you speak to the council and they determine you aren’t a threat, you’ll get your gun back. Okay?”

Left with very little choice, you agreed. “Okay.”

Mark held out his hand for the weapon.

Slowly, you placed your pistol in his open palm.

“Perfect.” Jessa chirped. “Now grab your things and let’s get going. If we hurry up, we can make it back before nightfall.”

Nodding, you turned around to grab your pack.

The second you turned your back, the barrel of the same gun you’d just handed to Mark poked you between your shoulder blades and you froze, your blood running cold in your veins.

“Hands up, bitch,” Jessa commanded. Her warm and friendly tone had vanished. “And turn around towards me slowly. Now.”

Terrified, you did as you were told and you lifted both of your hands, turning around on the heel of your sneaker to face her.

Her expression, much like her tone, was frigid.

Hostile.

“You’re going to do exactly as I say when I say it.” She held up her rifle, aiming it at you. “And if you don’t, you fucking die. Do you understand?”

“Please,” You choked out. “Don’t—”

“Do you fucking understand?” Jessa repeated in a hiss, her finger hovering over the trigger. When she was met with a small, meek nod, she turned to look at her brother. “Cuff her.”

Mark smirked. He tucked your gun away into the waistband of his jeans and reached into his back pocket, pulling out a pair of rusted handcuffs. He walked around and stood behind you, instructing, “Hands behind your back.” Once he had both of your wrists in one hand, he used the other to slip on the cuffs, tightening them so hard that the old oxidized steel dug painfully into your skin. “She’s a pretty one,” he murmured. As soon as he made certain the cuffs were securely fastened, he put a hand on your ass, groping it roughly. “Oh, you’re going to be popular with the guys, dollface. Kind of makes me want to break you in, right here and right now—give me a few minutes with her, Jess.”

Completely paralyzed with fear, all you could do was stand there in silence as his hands continued to roam your lower body, feeling you up through your jeans. He squeezed at your inner thigh, then brushed up over your zipper.

“Mark! That’s not what she’s for, you idiot,” Jessa reminded him, rolling her eyes. “Now quit fucking around and let’s start heading back to camp.”

She whirled around and started leading the way.

Mark grinned and pressed his mouth to your ear as he whispered in cruel reassurance, “Don’t you worry, now. I’ll get my chance with you—we’re all going to our chance with you.”

He grabbed you by your upper arm and roughly shoved you forward, leading you to what would inevitably be hell on earth.

Joel leans against the tree with his arms crossed over his chest. His dark eyes are fixed intently on you, carefully observing you from where he stands, more so out of concern rather than curiosity. Something isn’t right.

It’s late in the afternoon and the two of you had been about halfway into the six hour trek down south to Jackson when Joel offered to stop for a while, just long enough for the both of you to rest and take a quick breather, find a second wind before finishing the journey—but as he continues watching you, Joel starts to realize that perhaps stopping had done you much more harm than it’s done you good.

Just a few feet away from where he’s standing and keeping a watchful eye on you, you sit perched on top of a small, flat boulder hugging your knees up to your chest with both hands wrapped tightly around the grip of your pistol.

You’re in a trance like state, staring straight off into the distance at nothing in particular. Your face is completely blank. Emotionless. It appears that while all the lights are on, nobody is fucking home.

Squinting against the sunlight, Joel takes a closer look at you. He sees it so clearly, the faraway look in your eyes.

You are gone. You’ve checked out and completely disconnected from reality.

He would go as far as saying you’ve disconnected from this fucking planet.

You’re sinking, slowly drowning in some kind of thought or perhaps it was a memory—whatever it is that’s currently preoccupying your mind, it sure as hell isn’t anything good. He has no fucking clue how he’d managed to clock it so easily, so quickly, but Joel had sensed something was wrong the instant you’d drifted off.

The deeper you go and the further you lose yourself, the harder your hands clutch at your grin, the thin delicate skin on your knuckles stretching taught over the bones. It’s not until Joel notices the way your chest begins to rise and fall rapidly as your breaths quicken, the way you start struggling for air, that he knows it’s time for him to intervene before you worsen and suffocate under the weight of whatever it is that’s sitting so heavily on you.

Pushing himself away from the tree, Joel begins to approach you, taking extra care so as not to spook you into turning your pistol on him and pulling the trigger in a moment of panic. He lifts both of his hands and holds them out in front of him. Cautiously, Joel makes his way over towards where you’re sitting on the boulder, his footsteps slow and careful.

“Hey,” he calls out to you, keeping his tone firm, but somehow still gentle as he tries to garner your attention. When you don’t even acknowledge him or his presence, he tries again, speaking a little bit louder. “Hey. S’okay. S’alright. Everythin’ is alright—come on back now.” Joel draws closer and closer to you, taking tiny step after tiny step on the steel toes of his worn, black leather boots. “S’alright, darlin’. I need you to come back to me now, okay? You ain’t where you think you are. You’re alright—”

The sound of a twig snapping underneath his boot startles you. Jumping to your feet, you aim your gun at him with shaking hands and wild, terrified eyes.

Even as your finger trembles over the trigger, Joel remains calm. “Hey, c’mon. Take it easy. S’okay. You’re alright. Look, it’s me. It’s just me and I ain’t gonna do anythin’ to hurt you,” he swears. He shows you his empty hands, hoping that you would be able to snap out of it and realize that he isn’t a threat. That you aren’t in any kind of danger. But as you hold your weapon, chest heaving as you panic, Joel knows it doesn’t matter that his hands are empty. It doesn’t make a fucking difference. He knows it isn’t him who is standing in front of you.

It’s someone else. Whoever you were seeing standing there in his place, it’s someone who had done god knows what to you. Joel has a gut wrenching hunch it had something to do with the marks he’d seen around your wrists back at the cabin. The mere thought of it is enough to send an unpleasant chill up and down the length of his spine.

Joel speaks again. “I ain’t gonna hurt you.” He feels the sudden urge to reach out for you, but knowing it would be unwelcome, he resists it. All he can do is try and use his words to bring you back to the present. Back to him. “Breathe. You’re safe. I need you to breathe, can you do that for me? Do you think you can breathe for me, darlin’?”

Somehow, his voice penetrates its way in through the thickness of the white fog that you’d been lost in. You had been stumbling around helplessly in it, desperately searching for a way through. Joel’s heavy, deep Southern drawl permeates the memory, causing the haunting images from that fateful day when your life had taken a sharp turn for the worst to dissolve into nothing.

“Just breathe. Nice and slow. Inhale through your nose, then out through your mouth. Easy does it.” Joel controls his own breathing, slowing it down to demonstrate. He inhales deeply through his nose and exhales slowly through his mouth.

You stare at him with wide eyes as you fight to get the rise and fall of your chest to match his. How the hell do you know what to do?

Joel can practically hear your question ringing in your mind amidst the chaos. “My kid, she gets these awful nightmares sometimes. Wakes up in a panic thinkin’ she’s somewhere else, somewhere she ain’t safe. So my brother’s wife, Maria, well she was kind enough to show me what to do whenever it happens. She taught me a couple different breathin’ techniques that help soothe Ellie and calm her down. Told me it helps if I do them with her,” he explains to you. He can tell that you’re now coming out of the worst of it and that you’re finally starting to get some oxygen back into your lungs. He lowers his hands. Your pistol is still aimed at him, but Joel trusted you enough to know that you wouldn’t pull the trigger and blow his fucking head off. “C’mon, breathe. There we go. That’s it. Easy does it, now. In through your nose and out through your mouth, that’s it. That’s a good girl.”

It takes you a good minute or two, but your breaths fall into sync with his own and before you know it, the two of you are breathing together in harmony.

Oh. You’re not in California.

The man standing before you doesn’t have red hair and green eyes. He doesn’t have that twisted smirk on his face. He isn’t putting his hands on you. He’s not hurting you. He’s helping you.

Swallowing dryly, you lower your weapon. Your gaze meets Joel’s and somehow you find the courage to look him in his eyes for the very first time. Even though you had turned your gun on him, he doesn’t seem to be bothered by it all. He isn’t upset or angry. The look of worry on his face has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that you could have easily killed him just now. It’s as if he’d known for certain that you wouldn’t pull the trigger.

“There we go,” Joel says after another minute passes by. “You see? You’re alright. You’re safe.”

There’s comfort in his words, in his deep brown eyes.

Fuck, there’s comfort in him.

Still. Your mind refuses to allow you to accept it.

At least, not completely.

Averting your gaze, you shuffle your weight from one foot to the other and then back again.

Joel clears his throat lightly. “It’s gettin’ real late,” he murmurs. “We should get a move on. We’ve still got a bit of a way to go and we really don’t wanna get ourselves caught out in the middle of fuckin’ nowhere after dark for too long, y’know?”

You give him a small nod and start to gather up your belongings. You pick up your canteen, which is now almost completely empty after you’d shared your water with him during the first leg of the hike, and shove it into one of the side pockets of your back.

“S’kinda cold,” Joel states. “And it’ll only get colder as nightfall approaches. You, uh—you warm enough in that little denim jacket?”

You shrugged a shoulder at him, not thinking anything much of the question. I’m fine.

However, as if on cue, a chilly breeze blows its way through Wyoming’s plains, causing you to shiver.

Joel quickly shrugs out of his brown jacket. “You mind if I—?”

You toss him a confused glance.

Do I mind if you what?

Joel steps towards you and lifts his arms as if he’s going to put them around you. Flinching, every muscle in your entire body goes rigid and he halts. “S’alright. I’m just gonna give you my jacket, that’s all,” he assures you, his arms frozen midair. He patiently waits for a small nod of approval. Once he has it, he drapes his jacket over your shoulders and then takes several steps back, giving you your space. “Should keep you from freezin’ your ass off out here.”

As he turns around and walks over to where he had set his rifle down, you stand there somewhat stupefied over what he’d just done. Something so simple, and yet you can’t seem to wrap your fucking brain around it.

Willing yourself to move, you carefully slide both of your arms into the sleeves of his jacket, wrapping it around your body. The scent of him, a mixture of earthy sandalwood and whatever soap he uses to wash his clothes, fills your senses and a strange, but pleasant warmth radiates throughout your chest, gradually spreading itself to the rest of your body from head to toe.

Ignoring the feeling, you pick up your backpack along with your bow and quiver of arrows, slinging everything over your shoulders.

Joel slings the strap of his rifle over his shoulder and turns back to you. “Ready to get goin’?”

Pistol in hand, you gesture for him to go ahead and walk in front of you, much like he’d done for the first half of the trip.

He lets out a small sigh. “Alright, I get it. Still don’t fully trust me. Well, we’ll keep workin’ on that, then.”

A couple of hours had gone by. The slanting rays of the setting sun give a warm orange tinge to the skies as late evening begins settling itself in.

“Y’wanna know somethin’?” Joel asks, breaking the silence between you.

You look up at the back of his head, your eyes fixing themselves on his mop of thick, unkempt salt and pepper waves. Occasionally, as you’d been slowly trudging along behind Joel, you stole glimpses of the way his hair curled at the nape of his neck and brushed against the collar of his henley.

Despite the lack of a response, Joel continues to talk. “Earlier at the cabin, just when I was startin’ to come back around, I heard a woman singin’ to me. At least, it sure seemed like she was singin’ to me. It was a real pretty song too.” He glances over his shoulder at you with curiosity. “Was that you?”

You blink at him, keeping a straight face.

“Hm, no I s’ppose it wasn’t you,” he answers his own question. He turns his attention back to the path ahead of him. “I reckon that it must have just been some sorta dream I had while I was out cold. But it sounded so vivid, y’ know? It sounded so fuckin’ real. And the strangest part of it all is that I don’t know how it’s even possible for me to dream of a voice like that,” he muses aloud.

Oh? Unable to help yourself, you move yourself from behind Joel and fall into step beside him. Now it’s you that’s riddled with curiosity. What do you mean by that?

Joel glances down at you. He grips the leather strap of his rifle and shrugs his shoulders. “Well, to be honest, I don’t think I’ve ever heard a voice quite like that in my whole entire life,” he tells you. He shrugs once more, his arm brushing against yours by accident. Joel half expected you to deck him for it, but much to his surprise, it doesn’t seem like his touch had bothered you. “It was too fuckin’ gorgeous. So beautiful that part of me wonders if it was someone or somethin’ out of this world.” He pauses and peered at you, detecting a slight glimmer of light in your eyes. “Felt like I had a real life angel singin’ to me.”

You feel the corners of your lips threatening to turn upwards into a smile. Turning your face away from him, it takes everything you had in you to force them back down.

“Well look at that. You’re walkin’ right next to me,” Joel observes after a minute, raising an eyebrow.

Your head whips back around.

“Must mean that I’m doin’ somethin’ right, huh darlin’?”

You snort and roll your eyes.

I think I liked it better when you weren’t talking.

Still, you remain at his side.

The rest of the trek is silent.

Night had just fallen by the time that you and Joel finally made it to Jackson. The moment that you set your sights on the massive wooden gate out in the distance, your heart begins to pound, slamming against your ribcage.

The closer the both of you draw to the barrier, the easier it is for you to see the men and women who are standing on a platform on top of the gate, heavily armed as they keep watch—their lights illuminate the perimeter of the settlement and light up the velvet purple sky.

You stop dead in your tracks. Oh fuck that.

Joel shakes his head. “S’alright. Don’t be scared.”

There’s six people standing on top of that gate armed with fucking assault rifles. And you don’t expect me to be scared? Are you for real?

“Look, things might be a little tense at first when the patrolmen see us,” he admits, raking a hand through his hair. “None of them have any idea that I’m still alive, but as soon as they see that it’s me, they’re gonna stand down. All I need is for you to stay calm and follow my lead, alright?” He nods at the pistol in your hand. “M’also gonna need for you to put your gun away and out of sight.”

You glare at him, your eyes flashing angrily in the darkness.

You said I could have my weapons on me.

Joel holds up his hand. “I promise that I ain’t gonna let anythin’ bad happen to you, alright? I swear it on my fuckin’ life,” he vows. “You have my word. No one’s gonna hurt you. I won’t let them. Just stay calm and do as I say. Please,” he adds, a hint of desperation lacing his tone. “Y’think you can do that for me?”

Your mind is screaming, begging you to run and run fast. Instead, you find yourself reluctantly tucking your gun into the waistband of your jeans, concealing it just like Joel had asked you to do.

“Stay behind me,” he instructs, shoving his own rifle behind him. He begins leading the way towards the gate and beckons for you to follow close.

The second the two of you step out from the darkness and into the light, the sound of firearms cocking breaks through the silence of the night.

“Stop right there!” A woman’s voice shouts. “Freeze! Or we’ll fucking shoot!”

“Melissa, it’s me!” Joel calls out, holding up his hands. “It’s Joel!”

“What?”

He huffs and yells again, “It’s Joel!”

“Wait a goddamn minute, everyone fucking stand down!” Melissa loudly barks the order at the five other patrol men and women who are standing on either side of her with their firearms aimed and at the ready. “Joel? Joel Miller, is that really you?” She leans her body forward over the gate and squints at him, letting out an incredulous laugh. “Well butter my fucking ass and call me a goddamn biscuit, the man is fucking alive! Quick, open up the gates! Somebody go and get Tommy! Let’s go, fucking move it people!”

Joel drops his hands, sighing in relief.

You, on the other hand, are scared shitless and wonder if it’s too late to make a run for it.

“Remember,” he says, looking back at you. “Calm. Okay?”

You force a small, tight nod of your head.

Okay.

The gate’s doors pull apart and he leads you up to them and through to the other side where you and Joel are met with a frantic crowd of at least two dozen people—the obnoxious, overlapping chatter coupled with the blatant stares you’re receiving cause an overwhelming feeling of anxiousness to wash over you in a massive wave that, if you allow it, is going to drown you right there on the spot. Refusing to make eye contact with anybody, you fix your gaze on Joel, keeping it focused on the broadness of his back as more and more people circle around the both of you, caging you in with nowhere to run.

“Joel!” Melissa elbows her way through the large crowd, rushing up to him. She grabs him by the arms, giving him a quick once over. “Holy shit! We thought you were fucking dead! I can’t fucking believe it!”

“Where’s Tommy?” Joel asks her.

“At home with Maria. Lisa went to pull him out of bed—where the hell have you been, Joel? It’s been three fucking days!”

Joel purses his lips together tightly. He can feel you inching yourself forward, trying to stand as close to him as possible as more people join the scene. The toes of your boots touch the heels of his, your chest lightly brushing against his back. While Joel doesn’t blame the people of the town for being curious, he isn’t all too fond of the way they’re staring at you—the gestures and the finger pointing, the mutters and the whispers. He doesn’t have to see you to know it’s making you uncomfortable, and his priority is to get you out of there and somewhere where you would feel safe. “Listen, it’s a real long story that I ain’t got time for right this minute. I need Tommy—”

“Miller!”

A loud, booming voice comes from behind Melissa.

It belongs to a tall, bulky blond haired man—his mere presence is intimidating, proven by how it had taken absolutely nothing for the crowd to part and make room for him to pass through. Smirking, he saunters up to Joel and remarks, “I thought you were a fucking goner.”

Joel’s jaw clenches, but he says nothing.

The tension between the two men could be sliced with a fucking machete.

His blue eyes flit over Joel’s shoulder to you. “Well, well, well. Who is this sweet little lady?”

You step even closer to Joel, pressing yourself against his backside and taking a fistful of his shirt.

“None of your fuckin’ business, that’s who.”

Keith’s smirk widens. “Actually, as head of safety and security for this community, it fucking is my business,” he reminds him. “She infected?”

Joel raises his eyebrows. “Does she look fuckin’ infected to you?”

“You know the commune’s rules, Miller.” Without tearing his eyes away from you, Keith calls over his shoulder, “Bring out one of the hounds! Now!”

Behind him, Joel hears a small gasp.

Hounds?

Joel whirls around. “Hey, s’alright,” he says quickly before you can start to panic. “We have dogs that have been trained to sniff out the cordyceps infection. S’just gonna smell you, that’s all.”

The crowd backs away as a woman with cropped hair brings out a large black dog on a chain leash attached to a brown leather harness. Once it catches sight of you, the unfamiliar newcomer, the animal begins to bark and growl, thrashing around as it tries to lunge towards you. The dog tugs and pulls at his leash so violently that he nearly knocks his handler over. The woman unclips the leash and sets the dog free—it approaches you, snarling and baring its teeth.

You start to back away, but Joel stops you.

“Relax,” he mutters to you under his breath. He moves to stand beside you and holds out his hand, offering it in an attempt to comfort you and ease the fear. He hadn’t expected you to accept it, so when you place your hand in his and lace your fingers with his own, he’s taken by complete surprise.

You squeeze his rough, calloused fingers as the dog comes closer towards you. Nervously, you hold your other hand out to it, prompting it to snap at you, its teeth snapping together. Somehow, you muster enough courage to hold your hand steady and the animal growls, but then gives it a sniff. When it doesn’t detect what it’s searching for, the dog happily wags his tail and gives your hand a friendly lick before running back over to its handler who puts the animal back on the leash.

You breathe out in relief.

“There,” Joel snaps at Keith. “You satisfied?”

Keith clicks his tongue. “Almost,” he drawls. He walks over to you, another smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “What’s your name, dollface?”

Your stomach drops at the nickname. Looking down at the dirt, you don’t reply.

“Aw, she’s shy! Well isn’t that just adorable.” Keith lets out a raspy laugh, causing a couple of the onlookers to laugh along with him. “What’s the matter, sweetie pie? Hm? Cat got your tongue?”

Joel drops your hand, his nostrils flaring. “Back off asshole or else—”

Ignoring him, the blond patrolman eyes the weapon hanging on your shoulder. “That’s a really nice bow you’ve got there,” Keith states, cutting off Joel’s threat. “But we do have rules here. Newcomers have to surrender their weapons so they can be stored away securely. We don’t know you and until we can know for sure you won’t be a threat to the people of this town, you’re going to have to surrender that bow along with all other weapons you’re carrying.” Keith lowers his voice as he adds, “And I would advise you not to try and hide anything because I’m going to be the one to pat you down—and I’ll be thorough. I don’t take all too kindly to liars, so keep that in mind.”

“You just threaten her in front of me?” Trying his hardest not to cause a scene with so many people watching the three of you, Joel keeps his voice low and quiet—but the sharp, dangerous edge to his tone can’t be missed.

“Of course I didn’t,” Keith responds, innocently. “All I was doing was letting her know how we work around here in Jackson. We’ve been operating the town the same way for years now for a good reason. The rules we set in place apply to any and all newcomers, regardless of who they came here with.” He holds out his hands to you. “Surrender all of your weapons to me. Now.”

Shaking your head, you take a step back. This was not what you’d agreed to. This wasn’t the promise that Joel had made you back at the cabin.

Joel glares at him. “She ain’t surrenderin’ a goddamn thing—”

It’s too late.

Keith steps towards you and goes for the bow. As his hand shoots out to take it from your shoulder, you quickly turn your body and swiftly dodge it. He feels his face burn with red hot anger as several onlookers gasp at your act of rebelliousness. Furious, Keith reaches for you again and grabs you, taking the upper part of your arm in a harsh grip that makes you squeak out in pain.

You lift your opposite arm and swing a curled fist up towards his face, but he catches your wrist in his other hand before it can connect with his jawline.

Joel!

You try to say his name, but you fucking can’t.

Your mouth opens and nothing comes out. For as hard you push and try to force it, you can’t find your voice. Instead, all that falls from your lips is a pathetic, strangled little cry. You yank and pull, struggling as you try to tear yourself out of Keith’s grasp.

Livid, Joel nearly goes fucking blind with rage. He snatches Keith by the collar of his leather jacket, ripping him away from you. Though he’s still sore as from the fall off of his horse three days ago, he uses every ounce of strength he has left in him to throw him down into the dirt at the feet of a fellow patrolman named Wyatt. “Don’t. Fuckin’. Touch. Her.” He barely manages to bite out the words through gritted teeth. “Ever.”

Wyatt helps him up to his feet. “You alright, man?”

“Get the fuck off me!” Keith snarls, pushing him away. His chest is heaving and his face turns a deep shade of red. Whether it’s because he’s embarrassed or if it’s because he’s angry, no one can quite tell the difference. One thing is for damn sure, he isn’t used to someone going against his authority and everyone watching holds their breath, waiting to see what he’s going to do next. After all, the man going against him happened to be their leader’s brother in law. “What the fuck is your goddamn problem, Miller? It’s protocol—”

“Not today it ain’t.”

Keith approaches him, his hands curled into tight fists at his sides. He stands so close that the two of them are chest to chest, ready to tear each other to shreds. “Do you think just because your fucking brother is second in command, you can just do as you please? Is that it?” He questions, bitterly. “It doesn’t fucking work like that. We have rules set in place for a reason, Joel. We are going to do this by the fucking book whether your little girlfriend here likes it or not, got it?”

Stepping around him, he starts towards you but Joel is quick to block his path. He stands in front of you and squares his shoulders.

He speaks, his voice dangerously low. “You listen and you listen good. If you even so much as think about layin’ another fuckin’ finger on her, I’ll make sure you spend the rest of tonight pickin’ up your teeth off the ground. You understand me?”

“That a threat?”

“It ain’t a threat. It’s a fuckin’ promise.”

Keith pulls his arm back and he’s about ready to take a swing when he’s stopped by the sound of Tommy Miller’s frantic voice.

“Joel! Where is he—where the fuck is Joel?”

The much younger, raven haired man approaches the scene, shrugging a blue denim jacket over his cotton white t-shirt. The instant that he spots Joel, he runs up to him and throws his arms around his shoulders. “Fuckin’ Christ, I thought I fuckin’ lost you out there! What the hell happened?”

“Where’s Ellie?” Joel demands. “She okay?”

“She’s fast asleep at my place with Maria and the baby. She’s been with us this entire time.”

Joel’s shoulders sag in relief.

Tommy looks around, frowning. “What’s going on? What’s everyone doin’ out here?” He then sees you and raises his eyebrows at his older brother. “Joel? Who’s that?”

“Look, I’ll explain everything, can we just—can we talk in private?”

Although he’s confused, Tommy nods.

“Of course. C’mon, let’s go back to my place.”

“Well I’ll be damned,” Tommy states as soon as Joel had finished recounting the story—well, what he could remember, anyway. It wasn’t much.

You’re sitting beside Joel across the table from Tommy and Maria in the kitchen of their home. All three of them speak in quiet, hushed voices so as not to wake Ellie and Samuel, Tommy and Maria’s infant son. Maria had offered to go upstairs to pull Ellie out of bed so that she and Joel could reunite, but when Tommy mentioned tonight had been the first night since Joel had gone missing three days ago that she had finally managed to fall asleep, everyone agreed it would be best to wait until the morning.

“So, she saved your life,” Tommy concludes. His brown eyes, even darker than those of his older brother, flicker over to you once again. You sit there in complete silence, staring at the top of the wooden table, refusing to meet his gaze—or that of his wife.

Joel nods. “She did, Tommy. I don’t fuckin’ know how, but what I do know is that if it wasn’t for her, then I wouldn’t be sittin’ here at this table right now.”

You shuffle uncomfortably in your chair. Though the couple had been kind to you, it didn’t make it any easier when they stared at you like you had a second head.

“She saved your life and you don’t even know her name?” Tommy’s in complete disbelief.

“No. She doesn’t talk.”

Maria hums. “I have an idea. Let me find her a notepad or something to write on,” she suggests after a minute. She stands up, wrapping her cotton blue robe around herself, concealing her pajamas as she walks over to the kitchen counter. It takes her a bit of digging around, but in one of her junk drawers, she finds a pen and a small notepad. She makes her way back over to the table and sets the items down in front of you. “Can you write down your name for us?”

You don’t move a single muscle.

“It’s okay, honey. Just write down your name—”

“Best we don’t push her too much,” Joel warns her, holding out his hand to stop her from coming too close into your space.

You glance up at him, your lips parting slightly.

“Don’t worry,” he tells you. “You ain’t gotta tell us anythin’ until you’re good and ready. Alright?”

Tommy clears his throat. “Joel? Can me and you have a quick word in private please?”

Your heart skips an anxious beat.

No, wait! Please don’t leave me.

Less than eight hours ago, you’d been wary of this man, unable to fully trust him. Now, just the mere thought of him leaving your side puts you on edge.

“S’fine, we’re just gonna be out in the hallway,” he assures you. “It’ll only be for a minute or two.”

Realizing you didn’t want to be left alone with her, Maria jabs a thumb over her shoulder towards the gas powered stove. “I’m going to make myself a hot cup of chamomile tea. I can boil water for an extra mug if you’d like some?” she offers, warmly.

You’d turned down food and water already, much too afraid to accept anything from her. However, a warm drink did sound tempting and truth be told, Maria did seem like a nice woman. She’s Joel’s family—maybe it wouldn’t hurt to at the very least try and trust her too.

Finally, you nod your head.

“Great,” Maria smiles, looking pleased. “I think it’ll do you some good. Chamomile is very soothing. It helps me relax—something that’s hard to do when you have a fussy six month old,” she kids as she whirls around and goes about preparing the tea.

After making certain that you’ll be fine without him, Joel follows Tommy out into the hallway.

“Joel, what were you thinkin’ bringing her here?”

“What the hell are you talkin’ about?”

Tommy sighs. “We need to be careful about who we bring into Jackson—”

“Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me right now? You worried about this girl bein’ a threat?” Joel stares at him in complete shock. “You serious, Tommy?”

“For all we know, she could be a threat. She didn’t want to give up her weapons, Joel! She even took a swing at Keith!” He hisses. “And she did it in front of a fuckin’ crowd!”

“He put his fuckin’ hands on her—”

“She didn’t cooperate, Joel. You know damn good and well what happens when someone isn’t willin’ to cooperate with the rules. It leads to nothin’ but trouble and you know it as well as I do,” Tommy says, crossing his arms over his chest. “Her first impression here wasn’t a good one. And to make matters a whole lot worse, we don’t know anythin’ about her. It’s a risk takin’ her into the community.”

Joel can’t even believe what he’s hearing.

“So you’d rather I just left her out there alone?”

“Look Joel, we don’t know what she’s capable of,” Tommy reminds him, quietly. “If she’s managed to survive out there all on her own for this fuckin’ long, then who the hell knows what she’s done or what kind of blood is on her hands—you might be thinkin’ that she’s some helpless little victim, but maybe she’s not. Hell, we’ll never know because the girl can’t fuckin’ talk. Or maybe she just won’t talk. Either way, we’re runnin’ a huge risk by takin’ her in without knowin’ who the hell she is or where she came from.”

Joel glares at him. “Listen here, whether she can’t talk or just won’t talk, that doesn’t fuckin’ matter,” he says. He pauses briefly, long enough to take a peek back into the kitchen where you’re still sitting at the table. After she’d finished making the tea, Maria took the two steaming mugs and sat down in the chair beside you. She’s now trying almost desperately to get you to write down your name on the notepad. He immediately notices the way that you’d started wringing your hands together anxiously in your lap and he knows you’re debating in your mind whether or not you should reveal your identity to the stranger. He turns back to his brother with a frown. “She ain’t a helpless victim. She’s a survivor. She saved my fuckin’ life out there, Tommy. If it weren’t for her, I would be dead right now.”

“And where is she gonna stay?”

“With me and Ellie, of course.”

Tommy almost laughs. “Wait. You’re gonna be in charge of her? Someone who won’t fuckin’ talk to you? Whose name you don’t even know? Are you serious?”

Joel doesn’t even think twice about it. “Yeah.”

“Look Joel, I know you can be kind of a fuckin’ dumbass, but you can’t possibly be this goddamn dumb, big brother. Think ‘bout it—”

“I already have thought about it. She’s stayin’ with me.” Joel shrugs. “I know it ain’t gonna be easy, but maybe I can get her to trust me enough to talk to me.”

Tommy raises an eyebrow at him. “You really think she can talk and she’s just choosin’ not to?”

“I think she wants to talk, but she can’t. She’s too scared right now. But if I can get her to really trust me—”

“That girl ain’t gonna fuckin’ trust you, Joel.”

“She trusted me enough to come to Jackson,” he says, fiercely. “That has to mean somethin’, I just know it does.”

Tommy exhales a long and heavy sigh. He already knew just how fucking stubborn his brother could be. There’s no changing Joel’s mind once it was made up.

Maria steps out into the hallway. “No luck,” she tells them, shaking her head lightly. “I can’t even begin to imagine what she’s been through. If she’s too terrified to even give us her name—”

“It must’ve been somethin’ real bad,” Joel finishes for her. He places his hands on his hips. “I think I might have some idea of what happened to her.”

“What do you mean?” she asks.

Joel lowers his voice as he briefly tells Tommy and Maria about the scars he’d seen around your wrist. “Like she’s been in handcuffs or somethin’,” he murmurs. “Think it could’ve been FEDRA?”

“Possibly.” Maria thinks it over for a moment. “There’s also a good possibility that she’s been a prisoner in a slave camp.”

Slavers.

Joel’s stomach churns at the thought of it. He’d heard about those kinds of groups, about the cruel and inhumane things they did to their prisoners.

He fucking hoped that wasn’t it. But something in his gut told him not to be so goddamn naive.

“Listen, we feel for the girl, Joel. We do,” Tommy admits. “And we’re willin’ to give her some time to adjust, same as we did with you and with Ellie—same as we do with all newcomers. But regardless of what she’s been through, she’s still gonna need to pull her weight around here, just like the rest of us. She’s expected to take on work duty just like everybody else. It’ll be hard findin’ the right job for her if she’s not gonna talk to anyone so the sooner you can get her to break her silence, the better it’ll be,” he advises. He points a finger at his brother. “From this point on, she’s your responsibility.”

“I can handle it, Tommy.”

“For your sake, I really hope you can.”

“Good to know you’ve got faith in me,” Joel makes the sarcastic comment under his breath, but he’s certain Tommy had heard it. “It’s gettin’ pretty late now. She’s exhausted and so am I. M’gonna take her back to my place and get her settled in for the night.”

“What ‘bout Ellie?”

“Best she just stays here with you two tonight. As soon as she’s up in the mornin’, you can bring her on over to mine if that’s alright with you and Maria?”

Tommy nods. “You got it, brother.”

“Besides, I figure it’ll give me a bit of extra time to think of how I’m gonna explain everythin’ to her.” Joel suddenly realizes that he hadn’t given much thought about how he was going to tell Ellie about you—how he was going to explain your condition to her and how you’d be sharing a roof with them from this point on.

Tommy chuckles. “Yeah, good luck with that one.”

Rolling his eyes, Joel roughly shoves past him and back into the kitchen.

You hadn’t drank the tea Maria had made you, but you’d wrapped your hands around the ceramic red mug to warm them up.

“C’mon,” he beckons to you with his hand. “Let’s go. M’gonna take you home now.”

Home.

The word rinds oddly in your ears.

You stand up from the table.

“Wait.” Maria picks up the notepad and pen, handing them over to you. “Here. Take these with you. Just in case you decide you want to use them.”

Joel pushes through the front door, switching on the lights in the foyer of his home before stepping aside to let you in. He watches as you stand there at the door looking rather apprehensive. “It’s okay, darlin’. S’just me and you here tonight.”

Carefully, you step over the threshold. When was the last time you’d even set foot in an actual house? One with running water and electricity?

You couldn’t remember.

Joel shuts the front door behind you and locks it. “Let’s go upstairs.” He gestures for you to follow him up the cherrywood staircase. “It’s pretty late, so I’ll show you the rest of the house tomorrow in the mornin’,” he promises you over his shoulder. At the top of the staircase, Joel switches on more lights that illuminate a short hallway. He points to a door at the end of it, stating, “That one there at the end, that’s mine. This one here is Ellie’s. We also have a third spare, it’s right across from her.” He nods with his head towards the door of the bedroom he’d been referring to. “Go on. Open it up and check it out for yourself.”

You want me to open the door?

Seeing your expression, Joel chuckles. “Go on. It’s alright. There’s nothin’ bad in there. I promise.”

You momentarily hesitate. Fingers trembling, you reach out and grasp the brass door knob, slowly turning it and pushing the door open. You peek inside and flip the light switch next to the door frame.

You gasp. Holy shit, is this fucking real?

The spare bedroom is fully furnished with light oakwood furniture—a dresser up against one wall, a desk nestled in the corner, and two nightstands on either side of the most comfortable, full sized bed that you’d ever seen. The décor is minimal, but whoever had occupied the space before had a clear adoration for simple, warm, earthy tones. You nearly smile at the shades of mud brown, forest green, and autumn orange. Setting your things down on the hardwood floor, you make your way over to the bed and sit down, planting your hands firmly on either side of you. You relish in the softness of the cream colored duvet comforter.

“I’m guessin’ you like it.” Joel can’t help but grin a little. “I’ll be right back. I’m gonna go see if I can get you one of my shirts or somethin’ that you can sleep in. Make yourself comfortable.” He spins around on the heel of his boot, disappearing into the hallway.

Unable to resist, you lay back onto the bed. Your body sinks into it, melting right into the mattress. It feels like a fucking cloud.

Joel reappears in the room just seconds later. “I can see you took what I said about makin’ yourself comfortable quite literally.” His voice causes you to shoot back up into a sitting position. Joel stands there at the door holding a long sleeved, navy and white flannel shirt in one hand—in the other, he’d been holding a gray hooded sweatshirt and from his arm swings a brown canvas tote bag. “Not too sure what you would prefer to sleep in. I figured you might want somethin’ on the warmer side. Here’s a couple options to choose from. I’ve also got t-shirts if you’d rather sleep in one of those.”

Standing up from the bed, you walk over to him and he holds out the articles of clothing for you to see better. It’s his flannel you gravitate to the most. Taking it from him, you run your fingers over the fabric.

“I can throw your clothes in the washing machine for you first thing tomorrow so they’ll be clean by the time you wake up,” he adds.

You breath out shakily.

A fucking washing machine.

“Overwhelming, ain’t it?”Joel drapes the hooded sweatshirt over a nearby chair, deciding to leave it for you as well. “Trust me, I get it. I felt the same when I first got here with Ellie. It took a lot of time for the both of us to adjust to this new way of life after being out there for so long,” he confesses to you. “The important thing is to take it one step at a time, darlin’. And somethin’ is tellin’ me the next step for you is probably takin’ a nice hot shower?”

Your mouth falls open. A hot shower? Hot?

“You’ll have to share a bathroom with Ellie.” Joel leads you out of the bedroom and to another door adjacent to yours. He shows you the bathroom, telling you which knob in the shower was for hot water and which one was for cold water. “You can use Ellie’s shampoo, m’sure she won’t mind. I’d offer you some of my own, but I don’t think you’ll wanna walk around smellin’ like sandalwood and spice.” Joel hands you the canvas bag he’d had draped over his arm. “Here. Should be pretty much everythin’ you’re gonna need. There’s a bar of soap, a couple clean washcloths, a toothbrush, and a tube of toothpaste. There’s also a razor.” He pauses. “It’s a men’s razor, one of mine I’ve never used, but I reckon it does the job just the same as a woman’s razor.”

Amused, you quirk an eyebrow at him. What the hell are you trying to say? That I need to shave?

“Not that you have to use it,” he adds quickly, his cheeks burning bright red at what you thought he had been insinuating. He shifts awkwardly from boot to boot. “I tossed it in there just in case you’d want to, but you ain’t gotta use it, that’s not what I meant at all—”

Deciding you don’t want to see him squirm, you lift a hand up to stop him and shake your head.

Truth be told, you actually couldn’t fucking wait to shave your legs.

Calm down, cowboy. It’s all good.

Realizing he hadn’t offended you, Joel relaxes. “I’ll let you get to your shower. You take as long as you want, but just try and leave some hot water for me since I’m next,” he chuckles. “As soon as we both get all cleaned up, we can meet downstairs in the kitchen for a quick bite to eat before bed. Deal?”

Deal.

He’s about to leave you to it when you stop him, grabbing his arm. Wait a second, Joel.

Joel’s eyes meet yours. “Yeah?”

Thank you.

Your gratitude might have been silent, but it was there and he knew it.

Feeling brave, Joel reaches up and places his hand over yours for a moment, his thumb brushing against the softness of your skin. “No need to thank me, sweetheart.”

Letting his hand drop away from yours, Joel then turns and leaves the bathroom, closing the door behind him to give you your privacy.

Once you have the hot water running, you kick off your boots and start to peel off your clothes, tossing them into a pile on the floor near the door. Completely naked, you turn your back towards the oval shaped mirror hanging over the bathroom sink, unwilling to take a look at the scars on your body—painful reminders of the cruel punishments you’d endured during your time in captivity.

You grab the toiletries from the tote bag Joel had given you and set them on the side of the tub. Pulling the yellow floral curtain aside, you step into the shower and position yourself directly underneath the scalding hot water, letting it burn your skin to give you an entirely different kind of pain to think about, even if it was just for a minute until your body adjusted to the temperature of the water and it no longer hurt.

You begin washing yourself, trying your hardest to keep from crumbling. But you couldn’t. Lump in your throat and a tightness in your chest, tears brim your eyes, ready to fall.

You’re willing to let them.

Two years. For almost two fucking years, you had been suppressing your emotions. You’d been in a constant survival mode, there had been no time to feel anything. And now here you were, standing in a fucking shower with all the freedom in the world to just let it all out.

Silent sobs wrack your body, bringing you down onto your knees.

Joel’s shower had been a quick one.

You hadn’t left him very much hot water—but he couldn’t even be mad about it.

He pulls on a pair of light gray sweatpants and a black t-shirt. He haphazardly dries off his hair and makes his way downstairs, knowing you would be heading down there any minute now to meet him like you’d agreed. Without much time to make a proper meal for you to eat, Joel goes about the dimly lit kitchen and prepares a couple of cold turkey sandwiches. He’d just plated them and set them on the table when the soft padding of bare feet on the hardwood floor prompts him to look up.

His breath catches in his throat. You stand there in the doorway wearing nothing but his flannel shirt. The hem of it falls to the middle of your thighs, and it takes everything in him not to think about the fact that you weren’t wearing anything under his shirt. His fucking shirt.

Clearing his throat lightly, he makes sure not to let his gaze wander where it’s not supposed to. “I bet you feel a lot better, don’t you?”

You sigh softly. Oh, you have no fucking idea.

Noticing you’re holding your hands behind your back, Joel shoots you a puzzled look. “What’cha got there?”

You bring your arms forward. Clutched in your hands is the notepad and pen that Maria had given you.

Although he takes it as a sign that you are willing to communicate with him, Joel knows better than to get too far ahead of himself. He’d wait until you were ready to make the first move and he’d follow your lead. “I made you a sandwich to eat,” he tells you, pulling out a chair at the table. “C’mon, come have a seat.”

After you sit down, Joel goes over to the sink and fills two glasses of water, one for you and one for himself. Setting them down on the table, he finally takes a seat across from you—that’s when he notices the redness in your eyes. You’d been crying. Even though he wants to ask you if you’re alright, Joel decides against it for the time being and the two of you eat in comfortable, tranquil silence.

“I can make you another one if you’re still hungry,” Joel offers when you polish off the last couple bites of your sandwich.

Shaking your head, you place your hands on your belly signaling that you’re full. You’re not, though. You’d eagerly scarf another three of them down if you could, but you were a lot more exhausted than you were hungry and you couldn’t wait to crawl into that bed upstairs and get some sleep..

Joel studies you. “You okay, darlin’?”

You shrug. This has just been a lot to process.

“I know it’s gonna be tough for you. It’s like I told you earlier, it’s gonna take some time to adjust to your new life here in Jackson. But I need you to know you ain’t alone anymore. I’m gonna be here to look out for you. And trust me, I know you don’t really need me to.” Joel pauses and shoots you a crooked little grin. “Hell, you took a swing at Keith. You’ve got bigger fuckin’ balls than half of the men in this town. Includin’ myself.”

You let out a huff of amusement from your nose and the corners of your mouth tug into a small smile—you don’t try to force it down.

Joel blurts the words before he can even think to stop himself. “You’ve got a real nice smile, y’know.”

Biting down on your bottom lip, you move your empty plate off to the side and grab your pen and notepad. You swiftly scribble something onto the blank page, then slide it across the table to Joel.

He picks it up, an odd sensation fluttering inside his chest when he realizes what you had done.

You’d written down your name for him.

He says it out loud, and then looks up at you.

“That’s a real beautiful name.” Sincerity drips from his tone, going hand in hand with his compliment.

Cheeks burning, you glance down at your hands, which you’d begun wringing together on top of the table. It was out of nervousness, but this kind was different. You couldn’t quite explain it.

“I know it’s gonna take a whole lot more than a hot shower and a sandwich to get you to trust me. But I swear that I’m gonna do whatever I can to show you that you ain’t got anythin’ to be afraid of. Not with me around. Okay?”

Okay.

You open your mouth, trying to repeat the word back to him.

Joel’s eyes widen slightly. You wanted to talk to him—you were actually trying to talk to him. But it was a clear struggle. Something wasn’t letting you find your voice.

Clamping your mouth shut, you sigh and sink back into your chair. I’m sorry. I can’t.

“It’s okay,” he says, softly. “We’re gonna take this one step at a time. Together.”

#to hell and back fic #to hell and back #joel miller series #joel miller story #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller hbo #joel miller comfort #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #the last of us fic #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fic #tlou fanfiction

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everlastlady · 6 months

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Bloody Legend: Mammon X Reader 2

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✰- Author's Note: Writer's block sucks, I'm going to try and write then jump back to request. Because so many request in my inbox. I can say my love for helluva boss is slowly coming back especially thanks to that new episode. Also I made a Mammon bot on character ai, so if you want that link just let me know. I hope that you guys enjoy part 2 of this Bloody Legend. Remember to eat a meal or a snack, drink some water, get some fresh air, take your medicine, and remember that you are loved. If you loved this story remember to comment, click or tap that heart button, reblog with tags, and blaze if you can. Always remember to support your local writers. ♡♡♡

✰- Word Count: None because I'm writing this on mobile app and not my laptop, yes yes boo and throw tomatoes at me.

✰- Story Contains: Angst, Anxiety Attacks, Controlling Mammon, Striker, Verosika, Alastor, Guilt Tripping, Mental Breakdown, & Hitting In The Feels. Basing The Reader's Panic Attacks Off My Own.

✰- Posted: 10/31/2023

✰- Part 1

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" Are you happy and doing okay working for Mammon? " Striker looked at. You looked away from the western man before taking a deep breathe and letting out a off laughter. " Of course! Mammon is the best, he saved me from that shit hole comedy club in Wrath. He has giving me everything I needed to take care of me and my mom. " You said. Striker again could see pure bullshit through your words. " Hm, and you choose to go up on stage looking like your own on death's door step? " He asked pointing towards the mirror. You truly did look exhausted and tired. From training day and night to be perfect for Mammon and your fans. You didn't know what to say, Striker was more intimidating then Mammon. You dug your nails into the palm of your hand. " I'm fine! What are you a doctor, you look more like some wannabe cowboy! " You yelled at him while standing up. Striker stepped back hissing as his tail rattled. But he couldn't hit you or yell back no, he could tell you weren't doing right from how you reacted, he could tell that you were upset with your outburst.

" I'm sorry... " You said. You turned and looked in the mirror and saw nothing ... You saw nothing. " I have to be my best, no breaks. I have to keep trying because if I don't then I'm not but a disappointment to Mammon, my mom, my fans, and especially myself. If I don't keep pushing and remind myself to do my best. Then I'm just worthless and lazy. I have to keep pushing through no matter how tired I become. " You said while hugging yourself and sobbing. " I have to, I have to, I have to. " You continued to tremble and sob. Striker stood there looking at you. How his heart broke for you. " Hey... " Striker stepped forward and pulled your arms away. He guided you towards the couch and sat you down. Placing the blanket over you. " Pushing yourself isn't always great, just because people love your work doesn't mean you need to over work yourself. You should sacrifice your happiness for that green blob and those people especially those creeps I saw jacking it underneath the table. Striker shivered thinking about it.

" You can still love doing something but you should also take breaks until you feel like it's okay to jump back into it. I understand that the rich and powerful can give us everything we need. But in reality we don't need them, because they don't make us or what we do any better. I'm sure you could have gotten out of that comedy club yourself, I understand you love your mom and you can continue to support her without Mammon. " Striker grabbed a water bottle off the table and handed it to you as he wiped away your tears. " Here drink up. " He said. You smiled weakly, and opened the water taking a few sips before setting it down. Striker pulled out a piece of chocolate from his pocket and opened it; when he offered you a piece, you shook your head. " No, thanks, Mammon has me on this diet he said I need to watch my weight so that the sex dolls sell. " You said looking down. Striker almost dropped the chocolate and shook his head in disgust. " Just take the chocolate, darlin, he won't notice he's one to talk about laying off food. " Striker placed the chocolate in your hand.

You laughed and took the chocolate. You enjoyed the sweet treat, how delicious it was. Striker was right, you were sure Mammon won't notice so you ate some more chocolate. Striker watched you from the corner of his eyes and smiled seeing you happily eat away at the chocolate. " I really appreciate you some how sneaking into my dressing room. " Well pumpkin, I'm a assassin so getting pass security and sneaking into places is something I've been doing for a long time. " Striker said. Your eyes lit up. " An assassin? " You titled your head and were curious about something. " Do you work for that one company i. m.p ? " You asked. Striker rolled his eyes. " Pfft no, I don't work for that shit company, I'd rather wipe my ass with sandpaper before having to work with that Royal demon's pet and two vermin. I don't have an issue with the hellhound... yet, I actually hate that company, so if you ever want or need a real assassin then call me. " Striker pulled out a white card that had his name and number it also said " don't call on holidays or after 9pm "

You nodded and put the card in your bag. The door opened expecting the hellhounds or Mammon. It was actually Verosika.... and Mammon. " There you are babe, I was looking for you. Alright let's go me and Mammon finished talking. " Verosika sounded annoyed and tired. But her tone changed when she saw you. " (Y/N), I love your performance tonight. I can't wait to work with you on Friday. Shopping will be fun tomorrow and I booked us a spa appointment. " She said smiling. " Thank you that sounds nice. " You said. Striker looked like an angry cat while staring at Mammon who spotted the chocolate wrapper. " (Y/N) you weren't indulging in sweets because you know that we have a strict diet for you. " He said while picking up the wrapper. You were going to apologize but Striker snatched the wrapper from Mammon. " It's mine... " Striker said and placed the wrapper in his pocket. " Diet? " Verosika looked at you and then at Mammon. " Yeah! (Y/N) is on a strict diet to help the sex dolls, autographs, and everything else sell, yoi should try Ms. Mayday it works wonders! " Mammon said while laughing. Striker's eye twitched as he reached for his knife but Verosika stopped him as she laughed while holding back her anger. " Well me and Striker should be going, goodnight to you both. " Verosika said while leaving with Striker.

" I'm glad those two are gone Verosika Mayday isn't too great but she will help with your image! Also I don't like how you were alone with that imp fella, you two didn't do anything.... right? " Mammon stared at you with a dark look his eyes his voice cold. You quickly nodded your head. " He was just asking if there was any positions for security guard because he's a highly trained assassin. " You said stumbling over your words. Mammon's dark expression returned to that cheerful one. " Oh! Great! Highly trained assassin those cost money and by the looks of him, he looks like he charges a lot greedy bastard. I'm sure you are fine with the hellhounds I got you, now let's go have you sign some autographs and show these people that you are a bloody legend! " Mammon said picking you up so that you could fix you up. He always enjoyed dolling you up and being able to make you look your best even your outfits were green like his or white sometimes. Sometimes gossip reports assume that you two are a couple which Mammon didn't mind. Honestly he could see himself dating you and eventually even marrying, oh how he started to daydream about the wedding. " I do~ " He sighed softly. " I do what ? " You asked as Mammon did your make-up. " I-I do think we should charge extra double for a photo and autographs! " He said and looked away. Yes he was definitely going to marry you, and maybe then you won't be able to quit or leave him.

As you walked out of the dressing room behind Mammon. You were in deep thought about what Striker said earlier, maybe he was right but you couldn't tell this to Mammon, you were in deep thought that you accidentally bumped into someone. " sorry! " You said stepping back. " That's quite alright, don't apologize dear. " Said a static like voice. You turned around to see the radio demon Alastor. " Alastor. " You softly said. You never really talked with him. Alastor large yellow toothy grin spreads across his face. " The one and only, do you want to talk perhaps make a deal. " He said offering your hand. Before you could talk. Mammon pulled you away. " (Y/N) stay away from him. " Mammon said. The two of you walk away but when you look back, Alastor stared at you while grinning.

───────────────────✦─────────────────────

Hope that you guys enjoyed part 2 don't worry there will be a part 3 with Verosika and Striker trying to help the reader. Maybe I'll include Alastor but he won't play a major role, he's just here for fun because I love him.

#helluva boss #hazbin hotel #helluva striker #helluva mammon #helluva mammon x reader #helluva verosika #helluva season 2 #helluva fanfiction #helluva fandom #helluva x reader #helluva x gn reader #hazbin alastor #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction #fandom #everlasting writes🪻#bloody legend

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hippolotamus · 2 months

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Eddie’s thumb hovers over the location dropdown in the weather app, just like every day. And just like all those other days he allows himself to click it. The list unfolds as he huffs a humorless chuckle at how much it’s grown.

When he got his first cell, the only place he ever needed was current location. Technically, it’s still the only one he needs. Regardless he’s continued adding to it through the years. Hershey, Virginia Beach, a couple random towns in the Carolinas, Georgia and Florida. Fucking Sundance, Wyoming. All because he gave up pretending he doesn’t need to know.

It’s sunny, mid-50s today. A nice break for the time of year. Eddie scrolls through the upcoming week, noting a heavy snowstorm hitting in a few days. His nose wrinkles and he begins to worry his bottom lip between his teeth. Another thing born out of pure habit.

Not for the first time he types out a few messages before deleting them again. Eddie doesn’t even know if he’s got the right number. It’s been nearly three years since they exchanged anything at all. Not since Eddie could have manned up and told Shannon he could be a father, but not a husband. Not her husband, anyway.

He could have just been honest and said what he wanted when she finally decided to show up in her second trimester. He and Evan could have continued building a life together. But Eddie’s never claimed to be smart. Especially when it comes to all the bullshit his own dad drilled into his head about responsibility and honor and god knows what the fuck else. In the end it was too sticky to let go, trapping him like a spider web.

He can’t even say it was worth it because she loves him and they’re making it work for the sake of Christopher. Because why would that have happened? Instead all he got was a tour in Afghanistan, divorce papers (not that he’s surprised or blames her at all) and coming back to an empty house. Well, not totally empty. He’s got a son he’s still getting to know outside of a screen and shitty internet connection. A son he could have been raising with the love of his life this whole time.

Hope your coat’s warm enough, cowboy he types.

“Daddy!” Chris babbles from the floor, using Eddie’s pant leg to pull himself to standing. His toothy smile is on full display while he looks up at Eddie like he hung the goddamn moon and stars.

“Hey there little man.” Eddie tosses his phone to the side in favor of picking up his son and arranging him on his lap. Chris snatches up the yellow car from the next couch cushion, choosing to run it in a small loop over Eddie’s forearm, shoulder and chest. “Where are you off to today? Big race?”

Chris shakes his head vigorously. “Outer space,” he says as though that should have been obvious.

Eddie chuckles to himself. “Of course. How long until liftoff?”

There’s no answer as plastic wheels continue zooming along until Chris decides he’d rather be on the floor again. Eddie loosely assists as his son climbs back down. Some days are more difficult than others, but he tries to follow the physical therapist’s advice to let Chris do as much as he can by himself. She says it won’t do either of them any good in the long run. Eddie can certainly see the wisdom in that even if he’s constantly itching to roll Chris in layers of bubble wrap.

He blindly grabs for his phone, buzzing from the coffee table. “Hello?”

At first there’s complete silence and he winces thinking it’s yet another telemarketer. Before he can check he hears rustling, like someone’s covering the mouthpiece.

“Hello?” He asks again, more insistent this time.

“Uh, sorry. Didn’t think you’d actually pick up.”

Eddie thinks he might drop the phone. Or throw up. Maybe both? Probably both.

“Evan?”

tagged by the lovely and talented @monsterrae1 @spotsandsocks for Inspiration Saturday (go check their posts, I’m very excited) Instead of working on anything current, I wrote this instead. Not sure I have any actual plans to expand it, I just had to get it out of my system, y’know? So, bon appetit or whatever 💖

no pressure tagging (lmk if you want added or removed) @stereopticons @this-is-bwr @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @disasterbuckdiaz @wikiangela @tizniz @theotherbuckley @elvensorceress @apothecarose @barbiediaz @buckaroosheart @buddierights @chaosandwolves @daffi-990 @diazsdimples @eowon @fortheloveofbuddie @gayedmundodiaz @giddyupbuck @heartshapedvows @honestlydarkprincess @hoodie-buck @indestructibleheart @jesuisici33 @ladydorian05 @lemonzestywrites @loserdiaz @spaceprincessem @statueinthestone @steadfastsaturnsrings @the-likesofus @theplaceyoustillrememberdreaming @thewolvesof1998 @vanillahigh00 @watchyourbuck @weewootruck @wildlife4life @your-catfish-friend @epicbuddieficrecs

#evan buckley #eddie diaz #christopher diaz #alternate timeline #eddie is a great dad #hippo writes #buddie wip #maybe????#buddie ficlet #possibly???#idk #inspiration saturday #fic: you can plan for a change in the weather and time #divorced eddie diaz

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ghostflowerhotpotch · 9 months

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Let's Talk Peter B

@iwasbored777 (Since you ask to be tagged)

Okay! I was on the fence about writing this post, but after doing this response and some encouragement, I decided that fuck it, let’s do this.

While I had seen multiple things about Gwen being a bad friend, a bad person, and other things I don’t want to say because I will start ranting- Peter B for the most part, has come out scotch free.

Don’t get me wrong, I had seen some people address his issues, but it has been a few posts in a sea of him with Mayday and people shipping with Miguel. Which hey, is okay with me, but when you see you a character you love be given the short end of the stick despite the circumstances yet another character that has much less to lose has their mistakes largely been ignored and basically be woobify.

Is not just Gwen, I had also seen people take beef with Jess as a mentor yet somehow leave Peter out of that conversation. Don’t get me wrong Jess is far from perfect (which is something I discussed before,) but again, Peter is far from perfect too.

Does this has to do with Peter being a beloved main character in the first movie? Yes. Does it also has to do with misogynoir and misogyny? Oh I don’t doubt it.

I don’t hate Peter B, far from it, I think he is a great adaptation of our spidey, and while I am not the biggest spiderman fan out there, I did grew up with Peter Parker in movies and cartoons so I do have love for this characters as well as his incarnation in Sony movies.

I will do my best to remain as unbiased and neutral as possible, but not gonna lie this entire thing is annoying me enough that I will say when I am aware of my own biases, as I always try to do.

But if you think liking a character stops me from calling them on their bullshit you are wrong.

I know this post is more about how Peter is with Miles and his role as a mentor, but I decided to address some other things I had seen people talk about because there is a reason I choose "Let's talk Peter B Parker" as a title.

Believe it or not, I am fine with this. Seriously.

Peter wasn’t here when Miles arrived, and considering they did a small tour and got an empanada on the way, I think wouldn’t be odd to say he wasn’t around when Miles arrived. My theory is that he was taking care of his own stuff, and once he knew that Miles was around, went to get Mayday to present her to Miles.

I think that’s pretty normal all things consider, he loves Miles and wouldn’t had fixed things with MJ and had his daughter without her, of course he would want the two of to met.

The enthusiasm is all things consider pretty sweet, and while I don’t approve of some things he does (like giving her a web shooter while being just a few months old?) Is one of those things that are part of superhero writing that has the children technically doing things that they shouldn’t be doing for their age, so I just let it slide because if I get hung up every time I see something like this, it would not end.

I’m the only one who is actually mad about this comment?

Yes, is a joke, I get that, and Peter is trying to take as much as steam off Miles by trying to frame him on the light that he messes up, but is just who he is.

It doesn’t make me any less annoyed.

For starters, I feel like I am rereading Percy Jackson again (No I will not explain that reference.) Because despite everyone more or less knowing what’s going on (Hobie said before he didn’t know what Miguel was hiding so how much he knows is unsure,) no one has attempted to explain the situation to Miles.

This is a trope I had seen enough (including WAY too many times in the books I mentioned,) and I really resent when characters act as if the protagonist or someone else is stupid just because they are unaware of something. ESPECIALLY if the characters saying so are aware they don’t know.

They are also letting him believe is a good thing he is in HQ, but that is actually not Peter’s fault. I am mad with Gwen on this one, but also Jessica, and Hobie well, he should have known enough to be able to tell him seeing Miguel is not good news. At least Hobie tries to warn him as subtly as possible.

Sure, Peter just got here, but the fact that he is already accusing Miles of just messing up with the universe carelessly is not something that doesn’t sit well with me. Either he knows that Miles doesn’t know and is making an insulting comment, or thinks Miles is aware of the situation and just acted recklessly. The second one is the best scenario, but I feel Peter is presuming way too much for someone that just came around and should have known better than believe Miles knew all of these details while Miguel basically has a giant banner of “Not Earth-1610 Anomalies allowed.”

Also, sidetrack but what exactly does Miles do that isn’t just your typical spidey behaviour? Yes he doesn’t always have full-formed plans before acting but you can say that about EVERYONE in the room at that moment.

“He wasn’t thinking, is not like he works!” My ass.

Want my two cents about this moment? Peter has zero business telling this to Miles.

When Miles asks Gwen about her dad, she is crestfallen, she doesn’t like to believe this more than he does; but unlike anyone else in this room, Gwen cannot return to her home dimension. The best case scenario is if she isn’t there, her dad may not die; but that’s the best case scenario, and that involves again, not stepping again in her home dimension ever again. Her best bet is never to see her home, or anyone she knows including her dad, because not only she may end up in prison, her presence may lead to the death of her dad.

And who knows, it may happen regardless; he may be dead already because he is a police officer and she couldn’t be there to give a hand or save him (As she said she did in Into the Spider-verse, by the way.)

Yet at least, she is coming to this with the idea that her life is going to have to SUCK for a few years, things happening or not happening depending on where she is but none of this is pretty or fair.

Peter? As far as we know, he is done.

Considering the age range of the Spidey-characters, chances are Peter already lived the canon events he needed to live, at best they don’t know what’s next, which means he can operate as he feels is the best course of action.

Miles asked him if he would have let his uncle die, but Peter lost his uncle over twenty years ago, he had enough time to grieve, to accept the outcome, and find happiness after it. And to top it all off, HE DIDN’T HAVE THAT MORAL DILEMMA PLACED IN FRONT OF HIM BEFORE IT HAPPENED.

I find Peter’s words hollow because unlike Miles, he was never asked to not intervene in a canon event, he hasn’t needed to deal with someone from his universe dying while he let it play out.

I am not saying he didn't suffer, he did, and a lot; yet he was unaware that this would happen, is way different having someone tell you “Oh those tragedies you lived? It’s the destiny that keeps everything together, it’s rough but it is what it is,” than someone telling you “Oh you are going to live a bunch of different personal tragedies, and you need to suffer with the burden of this knowledge because is this or everyone in every universe dies.”

(How much do you guys bet someone will use this as an example of the trolley problem in a philosophy class.)

Since we are going in kind of a chronological order, let’s go to something a tad lighter both because it deserves mention, and so I can cool down before I start ranting in Spanish (which is not going to be saying pretty things about B precisely.)

Yes, Peter recognizes this is bad parenting, which is good because it certainly isn’t good; I also have trouble believing he didn’t know AT LEAST ONE spider that could stay behind and watch Mayday while he went to the chase.

However, I do think the chase was never going to be dangerous, nor Peter thought it would be. He has been Spider-man for a quarter of a century, he has been swinging around for so long is second nature to him, I bet he has taken Mayday on “strolls” which is him swinging around.

There is also another screenshot that really encapsulates that Peter didn’t realize how dire the situation is, but that’s for later.

There is also the possibility that he asked Miguel to do this as a way to distract him, but considering this is the only time he does this and is going around him being obsessed with Mayday (Which I think is a bit too much, but I blame more the writers than Peter for that.) I am inclined to believe this is not the case.

(Sigh) I promise to try to be neutral, so I need to bring this up.

What they were talking about earlier can be lumped to a bit later on, and I decided to bring this instead of talking about it when Miles and Peter saw each other (which is I didn’t bring because what I could say would be the same as this.) Because this is something really beautiful that I didn’t want to leave out.

I think that’s what angers me the most about this, because in a vacuum? I love this.

I am a sucker for found family tropes, I love the idea that Miles would grow to see people like Peter B, Noir, and so forth as a family. I love how Peter says how much Miles means to him and meeting him changed his life for the better.

Peter B loves Miles, he said that in the last movie; I can’t just erase that.

However, is exactly because of this scene, that what happens next makes me so sad.

Oh, Miles.

I didn’t mention it in the previous image nor did I took detailed screenshots for the sake of my sanity and to not turn this way too long. (Though I may do it in another moment- Ok I need to focus.)

Miles was obviously affected by what Peter said to him, it obviously means a lot because Miles also loves Peter; of all the spiders in the gang he was the one who he spent the most time initially; he wouldn’t be the Spider-man he is today without him.

And it breaks my heart how Miles says this.

Look at the angle, at his posture; Miles can’t even turn to say this to Peter’s face because it hurts so much. He looks so small in that shot, trying to emphasize how he is just a teen, how he really loves them so much, and it breaks his heart to know that they could visit him, and they didn’t.

Let’s remember what he was doing at the beginning of the movie; he was trying to study physics. He is great at it, and he was since the first movie, however, this is clearly not his passion; he loves his art and even if he didn’t know what he wanted to do yet in the first movie, you can see how much he loves what he does.

And he was willing to leave all of that aside, just to see Gwen, Peter and the others again; because as far as he knew there wasn’t any other way. Remember, he was aiming at Princeton; he would need to bleed and work hard to get there, and even after, being in this field it was not going to be a walk in the park; getting to make the dimensional travel work (At least without seeing Miguel’s technology like Hobie seemed to do;) was also going to be hard.

Miles wanted to do all of that for them, and them? They didn’t.

Now; I don’t blame Gwen in this scenario.

I had said this much in this post before, and a bunch of others too. Gwen was stuck with the Spider Society; and yet she risked losing everything, from homelessness to prison, to spend an afternoon with Miles the second she had an excuse.

What is Peter’s excuse?

He couldn't, he couldn't.

That's what he had to say for himself.

Here is the thing: I am not sure I buy it.

Gwen makes sense to me, Miguel didn't want Gwen to be involved since the beginning and obviously doesn't trust her when is about Miles; Gwen wasn't exactly wrong to fear she would get kicked out if she acted out of line.

Peter? I have my doubts.

We don't know Miguel's and Peter B's relationship (I know some shippers have some ideas, not my cup of tea but I have no problem if people like it.) However, we know that Peter B was there when Miguel's dimension collapsed, later in the movie we saw what Miguel did to Gwen for what happened (believe me, we will get there.)

Even if that was the case; Peter’s situation is much less dire than Gwen’s. Even if Peter could be kicked out of the organization for disobeying Miguel; he would still have his wife, his house, his daughter. He would had been in the same spot he was at the end of the first movie, if not better because now he would had a chance to know both him and Miles would be okay.

I am getting ahead of the post here, but I honestly don’t know how much of Canon BS Peter believes; he clearly doesn’t think Miles is bad for being an anomaly, nor his daughter (technically because Peter wasn’t supposed to meet Miles, he wouldn’t have his daughter. Is certainly a NO in the comics.) Miguel is convinced that Miles’ presence is enough to create more holes in the multiverse; Gwen obviously doesn’t share that view. Peter? I don’t know if he thinks there is actually something to lose for visiting him.

One way or another, he doesn’t really give me a reason here; who knows, maybe when Beyond comes there would be enough information for me to admit Peter did the right thing. For now? No.

Here, we have Miles telling Peter he wanted to meet them so badly, and even if Peter doesn't have a clue of how literal Miles is; you can hear it in his voice, in his posture, how he still cannot look at Peter because to that point it hurts.

And what's Peter's response to this?

(Deep breath,) Boy at moments like this I really wish I didn't think so hard about media.

It hurts me, and it angers me, because it is a pretty sweet moment, but when you think hard about it, it just becomes messy.

I could make an entire discussion about how Peter literally ignored Miles’ feelings about not being there, about how he and others (Gwen not really, the others eehhh hard to say;) didn’t try too reach him, which obviously makes him feel like they don’t care about him as he does. And Peter decide to ignored it.

But! I will try to give him the benefit that this is a tense situation, there is hundreds of spiders looking for them, and there only have so much time. I am going to believe, Peter couldn’t address that at the moment because they had other issues.

Yet even if we omit that point, do you guys realize this is literally no different that his entire spiel about Uncle Ben, right?

Because that’s what he is trying to say, “Spider-man has to suffer, but hey sometimes good things can happen anyways.” This entire conversation is about trying to make Miles follow him, do whatever Miguel is trying to do to avoid having Miles go to his dimension (or at least stop him from saving his dad,) and basically let her dad die.

Look, there is nuance to this situation; Peter isn’t saying this to manipulate Miles, he believes this. He truly believes bad things had to happen to keep the universe from falling apart; I am convinced Miguel’s second universe didn’t fall for his Canon theory, yet Peter B was there, I can’t blame the guy for drinking the kool-aid a bit more than the others.

This doesn’t change the fact that this scene has Peter ignoring Miles’ pain, and try to tell him he needs to suffer some more because “is just how the universe works!”

(Sidenote but anyone can’t help to see this and think of a random Christian telling someone after they lived a personal tragedy “Is just G-d’s plan”? Because I saw that a lot.)

Now, I guess the next question someone may be wondering is, do I believe Peter was being honest with Miles here?

...I don’t know, I really, don’t know.

I had seen this scene multiple times, and I lost count how many times when I was in the theatre, seeing this scene, and thinking “he knew” just for the next moment thinking “he didn’t know.”

If you want my two cents, the part that keeps tripping me over is how he looks at his watch, then Miles, then the watch, it makes me wonder if he is screaming that he doesn’t have his location to Miguel, or to Miles.

I don’t want to believe Peter purposefully drive Miles away so he could get trapped, when he says to Miles “I didn’t know, I promise;” I want to believe him.

The thing is, the outcome he hoped wasn’t that much different, now was it?

He wanted it to be Miles decision, yet again, he was trying to get Miles to not just abandon his morals (as well as the ones every Spider-person should have,) but also try to tell him he needs to suffer for the good of the world.

(I am having SO many flashbacks to things I read about cults, I need to continue working on that post about the Spider Society ffs.)

This is a small detail, but I gotta say; Peter do you really have nothing on your defense?

Look, feel free to believe I am playing favourites, but unlike many people who had a problem with Gwen, I don't blame her for hiding this.

No, I don't think what she did was right. Let’s not get things twisted. I definitely think Gwen shouldn’t had hide this stuff, yet she in general NEVER, had a good idea of how much to say and how much to keep with anyone she talks to; from her dad to Jess to Miles. Once again this is an aspect I can’t get mad at her because she is sixteen and traumatized with a minimal support network and irresponsible guardians.

Now Peter, what’s YOUR excuse?

Not just for not telling something to Miles earlier, I could believe he would have done it if the situation has calmed down. No, Miles asked them about it, and even a bit later says “That’s why you guys never came to see me;” (Which I think is kind of BS but let’s not get ahead of myself on this one.) The thing is that when he has the teen he mentored being manhandled by his ‘friend,’ and said thing asks them to answer him; Peter just ducks.

Like he cannot even see Miles and admit he shouldn’t have done that.

Gwen’s excuse isn’t much better but at least she is answering and you can see in her face how much she knows she fucked up.

I am going to be honest, this little detail wouldn’t bother me as much if what has happened before and what’s yet to happened didn’t exist, yet it does.

There is a difference in “Well you did a little mistake but I can let slide” vs “There are so many things wrong here that I will call you out even for the tiny ones.” Granted Peter isn’t that bad, but is a nuance I think a lot of people don’t think of.

Could Peter haven't said anything because the scene is trying to focus on Miles and Gwen for this part? Yes; it doesn't stop me from getting annoying.

Okay, Miles says this, do I believe it? Ehh not sure.

Gwen definitely not the case, if she truly thought him being an anomaly was a problem, she wouldn't have gone to see him directly.

Peter? Again, I have no idea how much of the kool-aid he has been drinking, the fact that he speaks highly of him and his daughter as good things that has happened makes me inclined to believe he doesn't.

We don't have an answer either way, right?

Not that Peter does much to help him feel better here. Yes yes trying to keep focus on certain characters I know.

(Looks at the camera like is the office.) And now THIS is the time where I wish I wasn’t aware of how writing works.

Okay, I know what the purpose of Peter is, aside of being here as a mentor, he is here kind of as a comic relief. He doesn’t have the same narrative weight as he had in the last movie, and he is here to be cute with his baby for the most part. That’s his purpose at this moment.

It-doesn’t-change-anything.

He has this recurring joke on the third act about if he is or not a good mentor, and it kind of has to do with the last movie, specially this joke, since at the end he was also talking how he taught him something he definitely didn’t do. Last movie I found it cute, here? Not so much.

I am trying not to be hard here and why I would not address the “son of a mother” moment (which I honestly really hate,) because this is not even Peter B’s fault at this point; the writers were trying very hard to have a way to make the situation a tad lighter while also having an important character be in character. I can’t say is truly out of character, but I’m not appreciating it.

Especially having him insist on being a good mentor after letting down his protege MULTIPLE TIMES.

Don't you guys love when you see a grown-ass adult go apeshit on a teen, and his friends aren't doing anything to stop him?

Sorry, yeah I understand that for narrative purposes, they have to be stuck to the ground, but after someone pointed this out a few weeks ago, I can't stop thinking of this shot so I needed to bring it out.

(BIG sidenote but, Margo is the biggest MVP here; girl met Miles once and probably has little to no context, yet she is helping him out. Queen behavior.)

Now let's talk about some bullshit.

I know this is technically not about Peter, considering this is Miguel talking to Gwen, yet I find LAUGHABLE this response.

I will give this to the spider//dad shippers, I would also be inclined to believe Miguel has a thing for Peter B if between the guy who had the "fugitive" in close quarters for a few minutes yet did not attempt to trap him, vs the teen girl who tries to help out her mentor to catch the dude (even if she didn't try too hard,) you decide the teen girl is the problem.

Is funny because really all this scene needs is Miguel saying "If it wasn't for you, he wouldn't have come here, he wouldn't had know and the Spot wouldn't have escaped," at least that much couldn't have been said for Peter B.

I think the writers were trying to make Miguel just look less and less reasonable the more we saw on screen; which is why he would go with route.

It doesn't change the fact that Mighel accusing Gwen of not capturing him is laughable.

YOU 👏 ARE 👏 A 👏 TERRIBLE 👏 MENTOR.

(This moment could be addressed individually, but they are basically the same thing and this post is DEFINITELY too long; seriously I had written fics shorter than this wtf.)

Here is my problem with this: He just decides that oh well, what can he do.

SERIOUSLY?!

Forget the "Oh but he doesn't do this the story-" for a moment; are you seriously telling me that not only this guy knows Miles is in a PRETTY fucked up situation, but also that Gwen is in her home universe where she will be homeless (because there is no way in hell Peter B doesn't know what happened to her,) and you decide to just, go brooding in your dimension?

You know is absolutely amazing how I had heard people grill Miguel and Jess for their behavior with Gwen (which I agree with for the most part,) yet I haven't seen anyone say "Isn't it a bit fucked up that Peter B should have known what would happen to Gwen if she went home and didn't decide to help her?"

Miguel is on Earth 1610 and hellbent on finding Miles, you cannot tell me if Peter B left his daughter with his wife, and then went to fetch Gwen, Miguel would have noticed. At the very least Peter could had try to check on her.

Peter B has known Gwen for longer than Jess and Miguel, even if he couldn't be a proper guardian for her because he was busy with his life, he could have been more present. He definitely could have attempted to defend her better when Miguel was screaming at her, or to look after her when she was kicked to her universe.

Jess is determined to act as if Gwen is more of an employee than a teen, but Peter B should be known better.

But is not his idea to help Miles, is Gwen's; because right now he is too focused on his life and his duty as spiderman to think of the younger generations that are hurting. Just like Miguel and Jess.

Yet not the narrative, nor the fandom, truly recognizes that.

Let’s wrap this up, you guys have no idea the amount of hours I had spend on this and I would be surprised if someone got this far.

As a small detail, Peter is seen with Mayday, and this time I DO have a problem with it.

I honestly hope Peter isn’t with Mayday in Beyond, I will pretend Peter doesn’t have Mayday during the events on Beyond in my fics for as long as I can; because this is the moment where I feel the joke is being pushed too far.

They don’t know what would happen next, they don’t know in what type of situation they are in, they know whatever universe ended was one with no spiderman so it has to be dangerous; yet he brings the baby because that’s his recurring theme for this movie.

And truly, that’s really the problem with his character here: He was given a small role to do with very limited things to do.

I am not saying this is bad writing; I may not like Peter’s decisions in this movie, and I am really hoping beyond gives a big ass cup of “Adults need to start protecting the younger generations instead of insist they need to toughen up” to all of them. Because more than his role, I am annoyed that neither the movie nor the fandom is addressing the failings of Peter B.

He is not a bad character, I don’t even think he is a bad character in this movie. I like him, and even if writing all of this down made realize I am more bitter about it than I would had liked; I just don’t think is fair.

I want Peter to be better, as a mentor, as a father; and I am really hoping the next movie shows him grow that way too. I do believe the writers can pull it off.

Now, the fandom addressing that?...That I have MUCH less confidence. But not gonna lie this post was made mostly to get this out of my chest rather than expect a reaction out of it.

If anyone made this far, first of, wow; I know some people were interesting in reading this, but even I think I went for a while I put a lot of things that are small details but you guys now me, it wouldn’t be me if I didn’t do that.

Be thankful I don’t talk about micro-expressions in frames or this would truly would had ended up as a novelette.

Second, thank you for reading! Give a like and your opinion if you want; because I am pretty sure this post is doing to have fewer notes.

#peter b parker #atsv files #atsv #across the spiderverse #spiderman #gwen stacy #miles morales #miguel o'hara #analysis

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ace-of-hearts-and-spades · 2 months

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YOU THERE!!!!!! TUMBLR USER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Are YOU tired of how Tumblr treats trans people, particularly transwomen and transfemmes? Are YOU tired of how Tumblr treats people of color, particularly black folks? Are YOU tired of fandom trying to police the madeup bullshit you like to draw, write, or read about? Are YOU tired of all this fucking AI bullshit? Are YOU looking for a new online home to settle in?

Consider Pillowfort.social!

I’m not going to go into the nitty-gritty of how Pillowfort functions, because others have talked about that and explained it much better than I can (I recommend reading @/vergesm’s post here for a more general Pillowfort overview). What I’m going to do is explain what I, personally, get out of Pillowfort and why I enjoy it.

To preface, I’m not being paid to make this post or promote Pillowfort or anything. I wouldn’t think that needs to be said, but people make things up sometimes so idk. I’m writing pro-Pillowfort propaganda because I genuinely like the place and want to see it thrive. If you want to take a look at my own fort and get a feel for the place, you can do so here.

So with that out of the way – let’s talk about it!

Pillowfort is quite a bit like Tumblr, in that it’s a blogging platform, but it’s got a few things that make it better than this hellsite imo. For one thing, you can post NSFW content there. Although I don’t draw much explicit stuff, it’s nice to be able to post art there without worrying I’ll get shadowbanned for a picture that’s just a lil too suggestive. It's nice to know that the option is there. Honestly, it’s freeing not to have to worry about that shit. And it’s also really cool that there’s a built-in system for marking certain posts as NSFW, because as well as being able to mark your own posts as NSFW, you can choose whether you want to see other people's posts marked as NSFW. And for minors, the ability to see NSFW content is automatically turned off. Pillowfort’s got a really good system for both allowing NSFW content and keeping it away from people who don’t want to see it. I really like that flexibility, and how that flexibility isn't detrimental to the users.

And speaking of being able to see or not see certain content, the content filtering is pretty solid. You’re able to block tags and even words in the body of a post, and like I said, you can control whether you want to see posts marked as NSFW. You can even control who sees your own posts! There’s blocking users, of course, but you can limit who sees your own posts even further than that. You can make them visible to anyone, visible only to logged in Pillowfort users, visible only to your followers or mutuals, or hell, even visible to you alone!! It’s cool to have that level of control, and I find it reassuring to know I have those options.

Another big appeal of Pillowfort, for me, is the userbase’s strong “don’t like don’t read” policy. A lot of the people there operate under the mindset of “as long as it’s fictional, whatever dude. I don’t have to like it, but you do you." There are still dipshits, of course, but it’s WAY better than the insane purity culture that’s developed here. I don’t have to worry about some wannabe-conservatives telling me I’m just as bad as Ted Bundy for [checks notes] sexualizing Michael Myers or some shit. Plus, this general userbase mindset is backed up by actual site policy! I’ve heard that Pillowfort is very swift in responding to reports of harassment – whether it’s fandom-based harassment or bigotry. I haven’t had any experience with this personally (and hopefully it’ll stay that way), but I’ve heard good things about it, and it makes me feel more comfortable being there.

Also, did I mention Pillowfort has an explicit anti-AI policy? AI generated images and writing are banned on the website, and staff made this decision once its userbase and community made it clear that they wouldn’t welcome that sort of shit. And GOD, does it make me feel so fucking good as a writer and artist to know that.

And that’s another thing – Pillowfort staff actually fucking listens to its userbase. The website is crowd-funded and relies on subscriptions and monthly donations to keep things running. And because it relies on its community, it relies on keeping the community happy. So complaints, bug reports, suggestions and alterations and things the users would like to see on the site – it’s all taken pretty seriously. And again, it’s just really nice to know that the staff of the place actually give a shit and are looking out for its community rather than trying to suck the dick of the biggest investor.

Really, the only problem I have with Pillowfort is the fact that it’s a bit small. Which isn’t necessarily a bad thing, because the people there are lovely. But since a lot of people aren’t happy with Tumblr, and haven’t been happy with Tumblr for some time, I thought I’d just ask you guys – maybe consider it. Consider making a Pillowfort account. Consider making your own little fort, stringing up some colored lights and cool art and making yourself cozy. Consider offering some money, if you can spare it, because it’s genuinely a really cool place that I want to spend more time in and see prosper.

So far, I’ve had a lovely time there. It’s cozy and friendly and it feels like one of the few places where a queer artist like me is actually welcome. And I think a lot of Tumblr users might really like it too.

I hope to see you there! 💜

#ace rambles #pillowfort #tumblr alternative #will this actually convince anyone? idk #i hope i can at least convince some of my moots/buddies lol #might as well shoot my shot

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thegayhimbo · 3 months

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I already answered this in one of my reblogs, but this is something that needs its own post because I am truly sick of people like this:

Seriously? 😒

"Hammers is not a great answer to that IDK." You're really being wishy-washy about someone claiming a traumatized man deserves to be killed with hammers? Do you hear yourself? 🤮

Also, you think there's a "whiff of blood libel" behind the child-stealing allegations (Gee, I wonder why? 🙄) but you're "not ruling it out at all" because you allegedly claim to have seen an example of something like this, which we're supposed to take your word on while you provide zero evidence in the tags to back this up?

Are you kidding me?

For future reference, if you post crap like this, you're getting blocked automatically (as I did to this person). I don't have the time or patience for people who have a moral compass that's either broken or non-existent, and choose to indulge in this kind of bullshit.

#antisemitism #antisemitism on the left #internalized antisemitism #blood libel #antisemitic conspiracy theories #leftist antisemitism #jumblr #tgh opinions #sheydim

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emmettworld · 1 month

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Okay I promise this is genuine and I don't want to send hate, and if you don't believe it, fair...but why post the works involving minors and nsfw (yes that includes the incest) ? I do believe that you can write whatever you want, and I don't think you're some boggeyman that get his kick of writing about abused kids or whatever bullshit. But there's a difference between writing it and publishing it, and while I think it's unfair your blog was straight up deleted and not flagged, I can also understand why Tumblr did it : I read the ToS, and I don't think they're just for real minors (but it's my personnal interpretation). This type of work (text, art, etc) can be shared with a group of friends or a group of people who're all used to this kind of content, and maybe it would prevent the risk of people stumbling unto texts involving Logan and David for example (happened to me once, oof) and more importantly, Tumblr throwing a fit? You're an amazing artist and while I haven't kept up with your content for a while (I unfollowed when you started posting about incest and non-con against minors sorry, it's a topic I really don't like), I don't want you to keep on being flagged and banned forever.

the simplest answer i have is because it's part of who i am as a creator, and sharing those parts has not just been extremely liberating and cathartic for me, but for others too.

that's one of the most important things to me. it would be different if all i got was hate and not a shred of support or positivity -- if nobody told me that they liked it, that it helped them be more comfortable with themselves and their own work, then i don't know if i would. it's hard to say whether i would just get bogged down by hate and give it up or if it would keep going regardless.

but aside from that, it's the principle. it's the fact that i, as well as similar creators, am not forcing anyone to see this content. i am not posting things uncensored for anyone to stumble upon. i always use very specific warnings, read mores, and links. not once would you encounter a post of mine like that and see anything explicit unless you chose to view it.

and that's the principle i'm fighting for: choice.

this website used to be place where you could pretty much post anything, way before the Naughty Ban, because we understood it was all about personal choice. about curating your own content, blocking tags and blogs you didn't want to see, unfollowing if you had to (which you have EVERY right to do, and don't need to apologize for!). most of us followed online etiquette and those who didn't, again, you can just choose to unfollow or block. not report them just for posting shit you don't like.

the TOS explicitly states real minors. if they wanted to include fictional, they should have stated that. if they wanted to include fictional, they should not only reference the actual crime, but the thought crime of creating things that don't adhere to morals in reality.

personally, i think it's one or two people throwing a fit, but that's just me. i think my content, which is not even posted directly to this site and is by no means being shoved in anyone's face, is the least of this site's problems or concerns.

but anyways, that's why i'm ready to die on this hill. because i've met so many wonderful people from being open about what i post, no matter how disturbing it may be, and because we should all be able to post freely as creators if we're not directly showing anything explicit that could violate TOS.

#answered asks #anonymous #tw purity discourse

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helluva-shit-show · 5 months

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Gonna be walking away from the Hellaverse. After the bullshit that happened with Valentino/his voice actor and taking a hard look at why the atmosphere of these two shows are the way they are, I can't interact with this media anymore.

I don't think you're a shitty person if you like Valentino or Stolas. I think you're a shitty person if you continually write rapists as "quirky, funny, hot" or as "tragic, sad, hurt, needed it for comfort". I think if you, the media creator, have to repeatedly say, "technically, it's consensual," I think you've already lost the argument.

Consent is not a kink. Consent is not a fetish. It is not an "option" you can choose to uncheck in a sexual relationship. If you don't have emphatic consent from your sex partner, then that is rape.

If you (Valentino) physically forced your partner, that is rape. If you (Stolas) extorted, coerced, or guilted your partner, that is rape. If you (Verosika and succubi / incubi) had to use external agents to alter your partners ability to make a clear headed choice, that is rape. If you (Blitz) engaged in sexual contact under false pretenses, that is rape.

It's actual canon rape, over and over again, character after character, and it never gets called out in show. It never earns the consequences it should. It's not funny, it's not cute, it's not kinky or hot or sexy. And Ozzy's piss-poor 18 second clip doesn't erase any of it.

It's normalized in the show and it serves no purpose, it's not trying to make some bold statement about or for victims. It's not some grandiose satirical comment on anything.

Again, I don't think less of fans for having their favorite character or characters. I don't think you're a bad person for liking the show. I will probably still watch the critical tag when new episodes drop. I'll leave all my posts up, I'm not deleting the blog, but I can't personally contribute to the fandom anymore. Not while Vivienne Medrano is the one creating the canon. I'm not wasting my breath or time on her vile trash.

And I know tumblr has been a far more constructive and accepting place for show criticism than other places online. I have seen some amazing takes, re-write ideas, fan-comics, character re-designs, theories and analyses here. Y'all are amazing, and this is not a critique on any of you, y'all keep doing you. Hope you guys continue to flourish, and I'm gonna try to do the same in spaces that make me happy.

...like TADC :)

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ihni · 4 months

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My 2023 in fics

Tagged by @billyharringson, thank you, this was a lot of fun!

January: Hot and Cold (or How To Serve Revenge) - a fic I wrote in January (but posted in February, schhhh). Got challenged by @callieb to write hurt/no comfort, and I have it on good authority that I succeeded ... (it has spawned no less than two fix-its and one more continuation by other people so far, which I am awfully pleased about actually)

February: Again and again and again and again, a time loop fic that I love, and would like to read like 80K about. ... yes, read. I don't have time to write more on it now. But I had so much fun writing this, and it is one of my favorite kinds of fics; a short one with potential.

March: March was busy. There was Billy's Birthday Bonanza, and also I wrote for the Billy Hargrove Bingo. I posted a lot of fics then, most of them short. So I'm gonna link two, because I can (and no one told me any rules for this tagging game); Boys, Beards and Best Friends, because it was so much fun writing Billy and Heather being BFFs and also the boys being set up, and then Over the edge, which is one of my favorites, because it was so goddamn fun to write! (Murder mystery prank going wrong, muahahaaa! Don't worry though, no one dies for real.)

April: A piece of meaning on your skin, a little fic I wrote for the Harringrove Flip Reverse It event, about the boys choosing tattoos for each other as a part of a bet. I still think it's cute.

May: I like Flo, okay, and like to incorporate her into fics. In Patience, I wrote about her first impressions of Billy, for the Billy Hargrove Bingo.

June-July: Posted in June, finished posting in July (but written on and off over the course of several years previous ...), Taking Notes is my longest fanfic yet at about 93K. And, listen, I love it. It's a body swap fic, where the boys swap bodies. And then again. And again. Etc. I am so proud of this one, actually.

August: Posted Pal, which is 17K of Billy befriending a stray demodog. I 100% believe Billy would like animals better than most humans, and this fic is basically him being a bit dumb but also a good friend to Pal, the demodog. And then them going into protective mode for each other. I am soft for this one, still.

September: I'm picking a short one that I first posted on tumblr and then onto AO3; Seagulls. It's ... well, it's sad in a way, in that it takes place when Billy's dying at the mall, but it's also comforting in a way, because he gets to leave all that bullshit behind and is greeted by his mom again.

October: Picking Just another night at Motel 6 on Cornwallis, because Billy deserves to get to tell Karen no, and Karen deserves to be shamed for what she did (yes, in this fic she showed up). It was immensely satisfying to write.

November: I didn't get much posted in November (because NaNo), but I did get chapter 3 of Finding Billy posted (it's a finished fic now, though, don't worry). It's a whumpy fic I had to write after a couple of chats with friends, about Billy being held with the Lab people after the whole Starcourt thing, and then Steve and Max and Hop finding out and getting him out of there. Poor boy's been through a lot in this one - but things are getting better, promise!

December: Started posting Home is where the knitted mittens are, which is my latest fic. No ships, no romance. Just Billy finding out he's a werewolf and having to deal with that in Hawkins, Indiana, without much of a safety net. Listen, I'm weak for werewolf Billy, okay? And I made up some werewolf lore in this one which is a mix of all the things I like. (It was literally a reason for me to get to write something "nesting"-adjacent, without having to go into A/B/O-territory.) Definitely written mostly for myself, and I love it dearly. (Featuring werewolf!Scott Clarke too, because why not right??)

Huh, I never thought I'd had enough to fill a whole year's worth, but look at that! I'm proud of myself for this :)

Tagging @callieb (yes, individual chapters work!), @weird-an and @mikajupiterjonesingtimcurryfeet if you guys wanna do it as well :) (And YOU, reading this, if you wanna do it! Consider yourself tagged if you're reading this and think it looks fun - because it IS)

#tagging games #ihni writes #fic recs

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inchidentally · 5 months

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(sorry for editing to keep things out of tags) (also preface that I ship pretty much anyone with anyone but that car lando, land oscar and char los are by far my favorites)

ok first and foremost I have to laugh so hard at them choosing Lando and Oscar?? as "pure PR" when

car|ando is quite LITERALLY used as Formula 1 PR ?? the official accounts of Ferr/ari, Mc|aren, Carlos' personal socials, Quad|rant,LN 4, F1, TV networks, Netflix and DTS,the whole of the Vegas race and every. single. sponsor. use car|ando to boost visibility. that's not a commentary on the validity of their friendship at all but it is quite literally a PR bromance that rakes in views and engagement

let's all be honest here the Mc|aren media folks are still hardcore car|ando people and can only bring themselves to remember the land|oscar ship name once in a blue moon (I have mixed feelings about that but I'm also not a fan of containment breaches so ig I'm relieved one of my ships isn't used as social media corporate currency??)

people's biggest complaint/compliment (depending on who's speaking) for Oscar is that he doesn't play up for cameras the way Carlos and Daniel do and struggles at PR !! literally he was only a little bit better at this in Prema and only because he'd known most of those boys for 5+ years already and their audience was tiny!

every single comment from a non fandom F1 fan on land|oscar content is how unusually shy Lando is around Oscar or how Oscar needs to "come out of his shell" and "not make Lando work so hard"

and Daniel "Mr. F1 PR Department" Ricc|ardo????? are they seriously saying Lando and Oscar (who are still trying to figure out how much they can even casually touch each other) are PR when Daniel and dan|do ticks every single bromance box????

like who the hell but a twitter user who ships rpf like it's a government conspiracy would pick land|oscar out of all Lando ships for a fake or publicity friendship when they literally don't do any of the pretend gay stuff or the horseplay or the memes etc. that is literally the wildest take I've heard in yeARS

anyway as usual I thought creepily deeply into this and decided to spend my time unable to sleep typing an essay weeeeeeeeee

see I was mostly lurking part time during the dando era so I wasn't sure but fr why isn't there this "competition" between dando and carlando like there is with carlando landoscar?? dando was MAJOR gay fandom service by comparison and they've consistently spent more time together outside of racing weekends and hobbies than Lando and Carlos since Carlos has always spent most of his travel and downtime during the season with Isa and now Rebecca. Daniel and Lando go on little excursions together even now and he was with Lando much longer as a teammate than Carlos.

so for people who've left reality to the point of thinking these men are in a genuine secret gay romance competition for Lando… surely Daniel/dando should be the ultimate enemy number one?? especially when evidence immediately surfaced that Carlos' thirst posts on Lando's bday were his side of the thirst posts Rebecca did the same day from their holiday right after the Brazilian GP, whereas Daniel took Lando with him in a small group of close friends to the desert after Vegas. if I were someone who thought that all F1 girlfriends are "PR escorts" - or whatever bullshit is the latest sexist woman-hating theory of choice - then I'd be so mad at Carlos for "ditching" Lando for Rebecca and then Daniel posting not one but two beautiful, moody pics of traveling with him. forget that Lando only reposted Oscar's birthday post, surely Daniel posting on the account he only made because of Lando with a camera he only bought because of Lando pictures OF LANDO is the biggest source of betrayal !!

I just. cannot imagine wanting rpf to be this exhausting and enraging when you can just ship all of them and also not create conspiracy theories about girlfriends that keep getting disproved at every turn.

but yeah as anon #2 said it's not even like carlando are super close friends outside of F1 (as Lando himself said) the way George and Alex are but I don't see anyone in rages about galex or their irl relationships or saying they can't be shipped with any other driver?? maybe I just don't see it on my feeds but it's definitely not as big a deal as the carlando exclusivity stuff that's been bubbling up everywhere.

and exactly! as sweet as it is that Lando and Carlos pair up in the few moments the drivers are all doing media duties etc together it's also what every. other. driver. is doing with their buddies. sometimes they stand in larger groups but those moments are when they get to catch up with guys outside their own team. Oscar and Logan find each other every single time and a lot of that time they spend away from the other drivers. Max and Charles, Yuki and Pierre, Esteban and Lance etc etc. much as I would love it if this implied that all of these driver friends are suckin and fuckin their bros on the DL it's tragically not the case.

I feel like maybe?? carlando as a ship developed into part of the fans going larries level of problematic is because the Lando they watched with Carlos was so young and literally formed a lot of his F1 persona around Carlos. that version of Lando is basically a handy self-insert for fans worshiping Carlos.

as we know Carlos does NOT view himself as the number 2 driver even when he in every technical sense is. so it speaks to just how much of a little uncooked chicken nugget Lando was during their season together that Carlos has never once viewed Lando as competition and even now sees him as a lil cub kind of like Max V does with Lando. they're happy Lando succeeds but he's not classed in with the guys they really get pissed off with or perceive as threatening.

Lando talked here about how he spent a lot of that first season in F1 anxious about his performance compared to Carlos and his own future in F1 and that he largely had to work to put on a smiley face for the cameras. I actually think that entire first half of the clip is a great example of how the carlando chemistry came from Carlos being someone who loves being silly and laughing a lot in his time off the track and how convenient that was for Lando to help hide how much he was going through privately. when the media decided that Lando is meant to be adorable and silly all the time, someone as easy to get along with as Carlos was perfect timing. did nothing for Lando's actual personal struggle behind the scenes but it kept up a solid boundary between Lando and the media. I can't find it now but there's that old interview of Carlos being dismayed at Lando one day being sullen and quiet even when Carlos tried to joke with him - he was half kidding but Lando looked a bit uncomfortable and said "yeah I don't know why I'm like that sometimes". then it just got joked off as Lando being a moody teenager (which Lando visibly didn't really like).

so like, this is what their relationship has always been! Carlos represents a place Lando can go to and not have his demons or his problems follow him. and for someone who has always been used to physical affection, Carlos' lack of boundaries has always been extremely welcome as an endorphins boost.

but let's be honest here that's exactly the same super physically comfortable chemistry Carlos had even with Max and now has with Charles. I know the charlos of it all is probably a whole other hornets nest but fact is that to Carlos, Charles is equally a grown man to him and they can do the whole european buddies jokey flirting thing without it being weird. not the same as with Lando…

I've got to point out that when you look at comments not from fangirls, carlando as a "ship" is seen by F1 fans as big brother and baby brother or even dad and son relationship. this video was recently posted again from the stream where Carlos very firmly shut down people asking him to kiss Lando. whereas he'll jokingly ask Charles for a kiss and call him "darling" while being pretend domestic together. it's pretty damn clear that Carlos will joke about the bromance with Lando to an extent but Lando is The Baby and a little brother. Carlos wants to take care of Lando and he does not view him as a contemporary the way he does with Charles.

and considering Lando still suffers from the same anxieties and getting stuck in his own head, I've said before how I love that hanging with Carlos can still clear those cobwebs away. they can golf or just chat about any old bullshit and Lando can escape whatever is hanging over him for a while.

I truly do not know why people find that very real relationship insufficiently sweet and amazing and think that imagining them to be secret boyfriends is so much better ?? I mean absolutely rpf it the way I do for fun! but how bad does someone's gaydar have to be to think Carlos would have a single clue what to do with a penis that's not his own lfhajhfsa. American fans need to spend some time watching European friend groups and realize the insecure nohomo thing does NOT exist outside the US.

idk how many girlfriends have to get harassed or how far the media will push it before Lando or Carlos actually get sick of the whole ship thing but I think I speak for all rational carlando fans when I say that it's well past time to throw this whole conspiracy theory away. folks need to enjoy their friendship and ship them how you want for fun but don't push this thing to the point of even more discomfort. or worse make them change their behavior to get the focus off of them.

especially when you come to the landoscar of it all and deciding that it's a battle of the rpf ships. we've all seen those delusions in other fandoms result in baffling amount of hate that cross over into real life and how ugly it gets. carlando comments are already pretty out of control on Lando content that doesn't even remotely involve Carlos and it's bleeding onto McLaren content that involves Oscar.

I guess if I really make a few leaps in lofic then I can maaaaybe kind of see ? where that insecurity is coming from with those shippers. I do not understand it but if I had to guess it's possibly that we're seeing a totally different side of Lando than usual since he's been teammates with Oscar. and that for once, Lando's growth isn't dictated or based on his teammate being a big PR personality.

professionally he has said many times he's been pushed by Oscar into his own best F1 season yet. he's also matured a huge amount when it comes to his own failures and we've never heard him be so grown up and balanced as when he talks about how happy he is for Oscar and McLaren that Oscar got the sprint win before he did. that the "hurt" he feels over it is entirely because he is angry at himself for making mistakes. him doing the season farewell video and being able to ruefully joke but be genuinely proud of Oscar is so different from little Lando slumped and barely clapping during Carlos' departing speech or Lando looking out of it and a bit annoyed when Daniel would still try to do jokes after a particularly brutal result. Lando is behaving on his own terms in his own team now. he's The Guy.

Lando's grown UP. we're seeing a very finished article in him. and it's not because he's reacting to who Oscar is it's because Oscar's just letting him be. he's seen Oscar choose not to fake it or play up for the media and realized 'oh! I can be upset or depressed if I feel like it and not dance like a puppet when people want me to be fun and silly!'. he saw Oscar's urgency to prove himself after finally getting a seat and Lando realized that Oscar was just assuming that Lando would default be the superior! he saw Oscar backing away or leaving room for Lando to be the fan favorite and Lando's natural instinct was actually to let himself be quieter and take up only as much space as he wanted to! he's spent the whole season being asked to be an F1 global representative all on his own with no bromance attached and Oscar is there back at the garage or the McLaren motor home smiling and congratulating him like always!

in short, Lando suddenly has room and space to be whatever he chooses and Oscar has been open to any and all of it. they became immediate competition for each other without needing to hastily construct a friendship or bromance to negotiate it. Oscar shrugs off his own disappointments and doesn't gloat or overdo his achievements and oh! isn't it nice that he isn't expecting anything from Lando except respect! Lando doesn't have to navigate anyone else!

that's why I refer to them as sort of I guess a plantonic crush? I did this equally huge and weird post about this here. Oscar has admired Lando for a long time and Lando has absolutely loved having a teammate who doesn't view him as a baby or a kid brother. Lando is so intrigued by how calm and solid and strong Oscar is and Oscar still cannot quite believe Lando is right there in his life and as his teammate. the little cautious dance they're doing is absolutely precious but also because it's so intensely earnest. they both have such big long term plans for themselves and they are so happy to be working on those together that they aren't doing the whole let's find a schtick or do a bromance thing. if it takes them a long time to settle what their relationship is then so what!

and I guess for people who want to think that Carlos and Lando's friendship is 'superior' to every other relationship in their lives (as if Max F will ever be dethroned in Lando's life) it's got to take the already unstable mindset and upset it even more to see Lando personally growing into someone they don't really recognize and at least in some part because of Oscar.

because the carlando shipping that I see from these more extreme people (and I fully acknowledge they're a loud minority) basically eradicates Lando's agency and identity outside of finding Carlos hilarious or hot. they misinterpret Carlos being the authoritative role into Carlos being fully in control of carlando and Lando basically dancing to his tune and reacting to him. they never post the serious, slightly darker side of Lando because it's typically not associated with Carlos. unless it's Lando missing Carlos or upset that Carlos isn't around lol.

so I can only imagine that Oscar's arrival coinciding with a more mature and focused Lando who allows himself to want to be taken seriously and no longer spends all of his on-camera time screeching with laughter or flailing around is ummm not to the taste of those people. Lando still has screeching fits sometimes but he's overall a much calmer person and it's nice to know that when he laughs with Oscar it's always genuine since Oscar has no idea how to play up for laughs. it's probably why Those Fans are now aggressively posting Lando and Carlos doing the driver's parade together (again, among all the other paired off drivers lol) with "ALWAYS TOGETHER" AND "ALWAYS COMING BACK TO EACH OTHER" as if fate is trying to stop carlando from being the only thing that matters. because I guess in their minds, Lando can't just be believed when he says that Carlos is an F1 buddy the way other guys have F1 buddies and Lando can't grow up and have a personal best year without Singapore being solely about carlando and how Carlos took care of him (fuck off???? Lando would've gotten P2 or P3 anyway bc he had an excellent race??) and Lando won't be heard when he says actually Silverstone was his favorite race not Singapore because Carlos Carlos Carlos.

of course Lando can't have found a new kind of friend and teammate in a guy like Oscar who is wholly unlike Carlos in every single way imaginable because that would mean there are parts of Lando that don't suit Carlos and carlando. it would also imply that Oscar is a better teammate for Lando than Carlos was (which is true) and that oh no if Lando is no longer pining for Carlos to be his teammate again (he isn't and he said so) then that means Lando exists outside of carlando and that means they're gonna have to pile extra hard onto proving every single instance where carlando is still one of the most important things in Lando's life (it isn't and that wouldn't be healthy). it would also imply that purely platonic friendship between Carlos and Lando is basically pointless no no they've got to be fucking and in romantic love that's what makes them special not just the fact that they love being in each other's company and have full and happy lives outside each other.

I just.

reaalllly hope it all calms down soon and they leave Oscar out of this mess.

and thank FUCK Oscar's gf Lily has been fully accepted by landoscar fans from the start because the amount of vile hate and petty exclusion Rebecca is receiving makes it honestly a little bit hard for me to be ra ra carlando even just for fun right now.

will it stop me being carlando trash in the tags? no. but my conscience is cringing a bit.

#big shock I overthink things that in no way impact my life #I also had to spend a loooot of time considering how much I wanted to go into all of this vs it potentially getting me sht from ppl #hopefully it's too long for anyone to rly care about who might get pissed #inchreplies #wank adjacent

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