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#still i've just learned that they always end up too busy to spend time with me which is FINE

familyvideostevie · 6 months

Text

the meaning of it all

joel miller x reader

summary: Joel Miller, of all people, teaches you to ask for help.

word count: 13.6k

warnings: jackson au, post part i, joel and ellie worked it out! joel is soft! language, violence, fluff, learning to accept help and love.

a/n: this fic is a soft joel (think part ii joel but make it two years into jackson because he and ellie resolved everything <3) and a reader who is much more me than i've written before. i hope you like it! thank you again to @strangerfreaks who held my hand through this, i owe you my life.

___

Luck. God damned old-fashioned thank-fuck-for-that luck has kept you alive since the world ended. Deep festering rage and a near-constant state of fear have helped. But every bullet you've found, every undamaged can of food, every shot that landed in the right place so you were the last one standing -- that's all luck. Or a curse, depending on the day. Depending on how you're feeling about it all.

And Jackson? That's the biggest stroke of luck you've had in twenty years. A single woman on her own with plenty of working years left and no obvious red flags was probably a no-brainer for the community to take in but you feel like you've finally made it. After two decades of violence and horror and pain, you fucking made it somewhere safe.

You spend as much time as you can making sure everyone knows how grateful you are. You don't have any special skills, not really. You can shoot well enough, cook well enough, clean well enough. Young enough when all the shit went down that you don't have a trade or any work experience, you just go wherever they need someone in town.

Keeping busy means you're bone-tired most nights. Exhausted sleep means fewer nightmares, less time to wander the halls of your very nice but much too-big-for-you-home and miss everything you've lost. But picking up shifts wherever you can also means you don't meet many people beyond hellos and exchanging names. Farming is easy and you get to work with a lot of the kids in town, daycare much the same. You're lousy with power tools but you're able to carry materials wherever they're needed. Cooking is easy when it's stew for hundreds of people and doing dishes is even fun when someone turns on the radio. You're making it work.

Patrol is...patrol. You're able, so you're on the roster. It's not that you hate it, not exactly. Going outside the walls makes you feel like you're someone else. You slip back into the mask of fear and anger, the one that kept you alive for so long. And the worst part is it's comfortable.

You've done the training runs, the group patrols for three months. Infected still freak you out a little but you're smart enough to be more scared of people. All of the senior patrol members have cleared you for paired patrols and today is your first one.

Tommy meets you at the stables to check-in.

You don't really have any friends, though everyone is perfectly nice to you, but Tommy and Maria are probably as close as it gets. You figure they take a shine to newcomers like you, ones who come in alone, maybe to keep an eye on them as much as anything else. But they've both got a smile and kind word for you whenever you see them, always asking if you need anything. You always tell them no, you're fine, thank you.

"You ready?" Tommy says. "I've had them pull Apollo for you." You pat yourself one more time to make sure you have everything. Pistol on your thigh, knife at your hip, pack secure on your back. Hat and gloves tucked into your jacket pocket to account for the wind on the trails.

"I think so," you tell him. You blow a raspberry at your horse and he blows back, nudging your shoulder with his nose.

"After this, pretty sure you'll have done every job there is to do in this town. Pullin' crops, plantin' crops, cookin' crops. Kids, the library, cleanin', buildin' that ramp at Lenore's last month. You've been here, what, six months? And you've done it all."

It should make you feel good that he's noticed. It does, but only a little. You still feel like you could work every day for the rest of your life and not repay what he and this town have given you. To make up for the things you've done on the road.

"I'm the best floater in Jackson," you joke instead. Smiling makes people like you. You haven't had much cause to smile in recent years so you're still getting used to the urge. Tommy scoffs. "I don't do important council stuff like you and Maria, though."

He ignores that. "Y'know, pretty sure they call that a jack-of-all-trades. A real Ren-ai-ssance woman." You try to come up with a retort, eyes wandering to the patrol assignment board. Your name is under ELK CREEK and under it is --

"Quit harassin' her." Tommy rolls his eyes and flips off whoever comes up behind you. You turn around and see a man you know of but have never actually met.

"Joel," Tommy says. "I believe this is called havin' a conversation. You ever tried it?"

"Funny," Joel replies. He nods at you. "You my partner today?"

"Seems so." You introduce yourself, Apollo's warm breath at your back.

"Joel Miller," he says back.

You're a little intimidated, truth be told. You know him by reputation mostly. Tommy's big brother who came to town a few years ago with a little girl. They're both pretty much everywhere. Joel fixing houses and talking to kids in the street, going on patrols and always bringing back extra for whoever needs it. Ellie galloping around town with other teenagers and bringing home the biggest game. You've handed her books a few times at the library, too, seen her bright eyes and infectious energy underneath teenage angst that transcends even an apocalypse. And you've seen them together, heads down in the dining hall or pressed closed walking down the street -- heard rumors about why they came here, how they came here, too -- and one thing is clear to you: the Millers are beloved. By this town and by each other.

It's a miracle all its own in this fucked up world.

"You two ain't met yet?" Tommy says, pointing at the space between you. You snap out of your thoughts. "You've been here long enough to have met everyone by now."

"Guess not," you say with a wry smile. The younger Miller is too polite to call you out for not having a single friend in that time period, either.

"Well, here we are," Joel says. "Gonna keep us here forever, Tommy? Or can we do our job?"

Tommy claps him on the shoulder and winks at you. "Tone down the asshole for her first paired patrol, yeah?"

Joel snorts. He grabs a horse that was already tacked for him and leads it out of the stable. You follow with Apollo. The patrol coordinator hands out rifles and reminds everyone of the rules.

You hop on your horse. "You ready?" Joel asks, startling you a bit. "We'll gallop to the mouth of the river and then start patrollin'."

Something in you relaxes a bit at his clear confidence in you to handle yourself. You know you're with him for a reason -- he's one of the best. That, or maybe he just doesn't give a shit. Somehow you think it's the former.

You follow him up the hill outside the gates and through the tree line. The noise of the Outside is different than that of Jackson. Birdsong, snapping branches and dry brush under your horse, the wind rippling down the hill. You take a deep breath through your nose and feel a part of you come alive. It's funny how a world so beautiful can be so deadly.

Joel gallops a little ahead of you, strong and steady. You watch him, think about what you know. He's older than you, that much is obvious. Greying hair curling around his ears, lines on his face from more than just a stressful life. But he's strong, good at what he does. Those rumors come back to the front of your mind. How he and Ellie showed up, half-starved and bloody. How he and Tommy are the most famed patrol duo for Infected kills and otherwise. It makes you feel safe. It makes you want to learn from him. It makes you want to know more.

And he's got kind eyes. Somehow, he's got kind eyes.

"Alright," Joel calls back to you. "Route starts here." He slows his horse and you pull up beside him. He shifts in his saddle and turns his face to you. "Now, I know this is your first pair," he says. "I won't order you around or nothin' but my main piece of advice is that everyone has a different patrol style. Know how to adapt."

You dig your gloves out of your pockets and wiggle them on. Joel watches before his eyes snap back to yours. "Noted." You honestly didn't think he'd talk this much. "And let me guess. Yours is patrol in silence?" You punctuate the nervous quip with a smile.

Joel snorts. "Nah," he says. "Unless you're Max. Can't stand that fucker."

It startles a laugh out of you and any ice you'd imagined breaks for good. Max is one of the middle-aged men who probably would have been a lawyer or a politician based on the way he likes the sound of his own voice.

"Now," Joel says. "You done this route before?" His knuckles are a little red but he doesn't put on any gloves.

"Twice, I think. First log book in that old station, right?" Joel nods. "Second in the town?" He nods again.

"Color me impressed." His mouth tugs up at the corner into something you might call a smile. You try not to look too pleased with yourself. "Some of the dipshits on the roster don't even remember that much."

It feels like you've passed a test. His praise makes you feel nice. Noticed. Not something you often seek but you know yourself well enough to admit that you'd like a little more of it. Even if it's from a man you just met.

"Not that hard," you say softly. Joel looks at you for a moment longer before clicking his teeth. His horse starts to walk. You signal to Apollo to follow.

The patrol goes off without a hitch. Joel signs the log book in the station and you sign it in the tower. He lets you snipe two runners that he spots and doesn't scold you when you take three tries on the second one.

"Settlin' in okay?" he asks once you've rounded the town one last time and started back towards Jackson. "Six months, Tommy said?"

Despite his earlier words, you haven't chatted much this patrol. While you'd like to know more about him, want to get him to smile at you again, you're really just enjoying being out here with someone else, knowing that you're safe. That you've got somewhere to go back to.

"It's nice," you sigh. "I never imagined I'd find a place like this."

You really should pick up the pace to get back to town but he doesn't seem to be in any hurry.

"I know the feelin'," he murmurs. "Ellie'n me slept on the floor for a good two weeks at the start. Been two years and some nights I don't take my boots off."

"What a fucking life, huh?" That earns you a wry smile. "Having a house is...strange. All of the hinges squeak and I --"

"The hinges squeak?" You look over at him and Joel's brows are furrowed.

"Oh, I mean, it's no big deal --" You stumble over apologies. You don't want him to think you're complaining about a home his brother gave you when he sure as shit didn't have to.

Joel taps his thumb on the pommel of his saddle. "Can get that fixed, y'know."

You didn't know, actually. "Really?"

Now he looks at you like you're a little stupid. "Ain't you the one hauling shit to people's houses when they need a hand?"

He has a point and you hate it. It never occurred to you to ask for someone to come fix your hinges. They're just hinges, for fuck's sake. Other people have holes in their floorboards or leaks or need new rooms for family members. You're just...you.

Joel sighs. It feels like you've disappointed him and it swirls in your gut. "I'll take a look at it this week."

Your neck cracks audibly with how quickly you look up at him. "What? No, Joel, you don't have to --"

He says your name in a tone that you know means no arguing. "I know I don't have to. I offered."

"You don't even know me!" The words fly from your mouth before you can stop them.

He brings his horse to a full stop so quick you almost run into him.

"Look," he says. His gaze holds yours. Wow, he really can be intimidating when he wants to be. You can only imagine the things he's done, the things he's capable of. Anyone who has made it this long has blood on their hands. You've washed it from your own skin plenty of times. And yet, you feel completely safe. And you know that you'll probably do whatever he tells you. "I know how it can be."

Your gut swirls. "You don't know what I've been through," you say softly. It's not a jibe, it's just the truth. No one knows because you've told no one because it doesn't matter. You're here now.

"I've been alive for a while longer than you," he continues. "I've seen the world, just as you have. I've been out here. I was out here for a long, long time." He runs a hand through his beard, fiddles with his broken watch in what looks like reflex. "I know how hard it is to ask. To get back to something that makes any damn sense. But you can if you try."

The words linger in the chill around you. He's right, obviously. He's so fucking right that you want to be mad. You haven't asked for anything because you don't want to fracture the good thing you've got. Don't want to be too much, to be a burden they can't support, to make people think you don't deserve to be in Jackson. All things that don't make any fucking sense, not really, but you can't stop them. It's just how you're wired.

"So I'm comin' over this week to fix those hinges. Alright?"

"Alright." Something in Joel softens when you agree.

"Good," he says. "Good."

You finish the patrol in comfortable silence. All told it's been nice. To talk to someone, to feel like they give a shit about you even for just a few hours. You have no doubt Joel will be over to fix your hinges but you figure it'll fizzle out after that -- it always does. You don't know how to ask someone to stick around, anyway. But even this little bit of him will have been worth it.

Something both loosens and tightens in your chest when you get back to Jackson and through the gates. Goodbye beautiful, horrible outside world, hello safety, community, home. It's a trade-off. You and Joel hop off your horses and return your rifles. You're about to hand Apollo off to be brushed and returned to the stables when you feel a hand on your shoulder.

Joel says your name and you turn around.

"Good job today," he says softly. "Not too excitin' of a patrol, but you're good out there."

You blink owlishly. "I-- thanks," you manage. "Maybe we'll get to go out again as a pair." You're showing your hand but you can't help it. You want more of whatever this was.

Joel's mouth pulls up at one corner. "Maybe."

___

Two days later you drag yourself out of the house for community breakfast. Most mornings you're out the door and at your work detail for the day before you can pop over but you don't have anything assigned today. It's a rare respite and it has you antsy. You don't remember how to be idle, aren't any good at it. Sitting in your empty house means your mind might wander to the thoughts you try very hard to keep at bay. The loneliness, the regret, the fear. The loss. It's always there and you've gotten better at dealing with it after so many years but some days you really just wish you could talk about it to someone, could just bitch and moan about how fucking awful this life can be.

But everyone is carrying their own shit and you don't need to add to it. You don't want anyone to have to carry yours, too.

Breakfast is quiet this morning. You settle at a table with your toast and your eggs and your potatoes and smile back at anyone who smiles at you but no one sits with you. If they did you don't know what you'd say.

But then the air changes. Your neck feels a little hot and you slowly look around until you see what's caused it -- Joel and Ellie are here. He's already looking at you when you meet his eyes and he smiles a little, a half-moon curve of his mouth, and nods. You wave.

Ellie waves back, which you don't expect. She says something to Joel and he frowns, rolls his eyes. She punches him in the arm and he flips her off and grabs two plates, starts to fill them. You smile down at your own food.

"Man, are the potatoes that fucking good today?"

You look up and find Ellie in front of you. You're pretty sure she's 16 or thereabouts, still growing into herself based on the way she shifts on her feet. Her right forearm has the outline of something floral. She notices you looking at it and crosses her arms, looking unimpressed. Ah, teenagers.

"Pretty okay," you tell her. "I don't know if we've met yet --"

"We kinda have," she interrupts. "I know your name and you know mine, so. And you're at the library sometimes when I check shit out."

This still does not explain why she's over here talking to you. You can see Joel in the breakfast line still, glancing over his shoulder every so often to see if she's still in the room. You try not to catch his gaze because you're a little afraid of what Ellie might read in it.

"Can I do something for you, Ellie?" you ask, not unkindly. She scrunches up her nose and then sighs.

"Joel told me not to bother you but I wanted to ask if you could look out for a book for me. At the library." Her words get faster as she reaches the end of her sentence. She takes a look at you, sees that you're not telling her to fuck off, or something, and keeps talking. Some book about the history of comics or something.

"Oh," you say. You feel a rush of affection for her and the fact that she can hold the record for headshots on a group patrol and still want to read about something she loves in her free time. "Yeah, I'll look for you. I don't have a library shift until tomorrow but I'll look and put it aside if I find it for you."

Ellie tugs on her fingers. "Don't you need to write it down or something?"

You smile at her. "No, I'll remember." You recite the title and author she just told you back to her and it seems to satisfy her. It's like a switch is flipped -- her earnest expression morphs into something you can only call mischief.

"So Joel's coming over to fix your doors, or whatever," she says. "How'd you crack him?"

"I--what?"

"You patrol with him once and he's coming over to your house," she says. "It took him like, weeks to laugh at one of my jokes. And I'm fucking funny!"

You have no idea what to say to that. Patrol with Joel was your first time talking to him and while he's a bit intimidating, sure, he never came off as anything other than...good. But you'd bet he wasn't always that way in this world. Maybe this girl in front of you had something to do with it.

And honestly, you're sure he just feels a little bad for you. He's nice enough to worry, to make sure everyone in town can do their part and you'll take what you can get even if it's temporary attention.

Part of you knows Ellie is just giving you a hard time because she's a teenager and you're kind of connected to the guy who looks after her so you're fair game, too. But she's talking to you like she wants to which is throwing you for a loop. And you're realizing it's been a long time since you actually wanted someone to like you. Well, Joel aside.

"You want to tell me one?" you ask. She looks surprised and then delighted.

"Oh, fuck yeah. Okay, let me think." You take another bite of your breakfast. "Okay, okay, I got it. What did the mermaid wear to her math class?"

You give it a few seconds before you shrug. Ellie grins. "An algae-bra."

Your laugh makes her grin bigger. "See? Fucking hilarious." She holds out her hand for a high five and you oblige. "Anyway, Joel's gonna come over tomorrow, I think. Seriously, dude, I don't know how you did it. He never used to be this nice!" She looks over her shoulder at the man in question. He's sitting down at another table. "He's getting soft."

Her voice is fond and you're pretty sure she doesn't notice. "You should go eat your breakfast, Ellie," you tell her.

She sighs like the weight of the world is on her shoulders. "Yeah, I'm fucking hungry. Let me know if you find that book!"

"I will," you call after her. You can't help but watch as she barrels back to her table with Joel and immediately makes an attempt at his bacon. He fends her off with his fork before surrendering a piece with a scowl.

He looks up and catches your eye again. You stand with your tray and nod at him, turning around before you can see his expression. Stupid, so stupid to be caught looking like that. But you can't help it -- looking at the love still alive in this shitty world and wondering what it feels like.

___

You run into Joel on your walk home from the next day's shift at the library. You spent probably far too much of it looking for the book Ellie wanted but it was worth it because you've got it tucked under your arm. It feels like a small miracle but you're not one to question it.

Maybe it's the good mood you're in, but when you see Joel from behind you call out his name. He doesn't stop walking but turns his head like he heard something. When he spots you he does stop, waiting for you to catch up.

"Hi," you say, suddenly a little less brave.

"Howdy," he replies, amused. "I'm headed your way."

"You --" He lifts a toolbox you now realize he's carrying. "Oh, right. Hinges."

"I can come by another day if it's not a good time."

Joel could knock on your door in the middle of the night and it would be a good time. "No, ah. Now's good." He motions for you to lead the way even though he clearly knew where he was going. He must have asked Tommy.

It seems like everyone waves as you two head for your street. They call out Joel's name and he knows pretty much everyone. You feel a little self-conscious being seen with him like this -- you, pretty much a nobody in town through your own doing and Joel, beloved by all.

It doesn't stop until you're almost at your door. "You're popular," you say, trying to make it sound teasing. Instead, it sounds awed.

Joel runs his free hand through his beard. "Don't remind me," he grumbles. "Can't go for a walk without a damn conversation."

You pull out your keys and unlock the front door. There are plenty of people in Jackson who don't lock their doors but you can't shake the need. "Sounds difficult."

He chuckles and you feel it zing up your spine. It's nice to make him laugh. "Yeah, yeah. S'pose it's nice." The front door opens with a creak and you look at him sheepishly. His eyebrows touch his hairline. "They all like that?"

You nod. Joel whistles. "Christ," he says. "Alright." He follows you into the house. You try not to think about what he sees. You've tried to make it your own, just a little. Posters you traded for, books you've collected. You cleaned the whole thing top to bottom when you moved in but somehow it still looks a little un-lived in. You're working on it.

"Don't let me bother you," Joel says, getting on one knee with a grunt and prying open his box. "Probably need 'bout an hour to get 'em all. I'll holler when I'm done."

That's your cue to busy yourself with something, anything, but you don't want to. You want to talk to him, to watch him do whatever he's going to do, to soak up this time with Joel before he walks out the door and you go back to being acquaintances.

"What are you going to use?" you ask. He looks up, a little surprised, before pulling out a spray bottle and a rag. He shakes it at you.

"It's some sorta homemade shit one of the younger guys cooked up," Joel says. Somehow he manages to sound self-deprecating, like he thinks he should've thought of it first. "I think it's...soap? And cleanin' stuff? Fuck, I don't know." He huffs a laugh. "I know it works, though. Back in the day we'd use shit you could buy on the shelf." He stands with a grunt. "You old enough to know that?"

That gets you to laugh. "Yeah, Joel," you say. "I'm old enough to remember the hardware store."

His gaze feels a little different than before, like he's allowing himself to look. "Hmm," is all he says. "I'll just --"

You don't know how to justify shadowing him as he oils your hinges -- there's a joke there's somewhere -- so you don't. You grab a book from the shelf and settle on your couch and try your best to read but your mind wanders.

It's pretty clear that you have a crush on Joel. You've spent one patrol with the guy but somehow he's gotten under your skin. It's inconvenient but also...nice? A crush at the end of the world. The fact that you can still feel something so sweet, so juvenile after all you've seen and all you've done is almost laughable. And it's not like it's going to go anywhere -- you're sure Joel thinks you're too young for him, too green, and he's probably tripping over admirers in town. But you can let it be something to keep your days interesting until it fades.

It was hard enough to love yourself before the world ended for reasons anyone could understand. Societal pressures, stupid comparisons, things that don't matter at all now. Who has time to think about being loved when you're constantly faced with death? Feeling desired, feeling loved, feeling looked after isn't exactly top of mind. You're not even sure you remember how. You put one foot in front of the other and that's enough.

But wouldn't it be nice to be on the receiving end of affection from a man like Joel?

"All finished." You startle and realize you haven't turned a single page of your book. If Joel notices he doesn't say. He wipes his hands on a rag and eyes you. "Pretty sure I got all the doors."

You hop up from the couch and try to find your words. "I -- that's -- you're --"

"Thank you will do just fine," he says with a smirk. He tucks the rag in his back pocket and crosses his arms, leaning against the wall.

"Let me cook for you," you blurt out instead. "In exchange." You can make a few things fairly decently and making him something is another excuse to talk to him like this, to be on the receiving end of those eyes. "I can make chili. Does Ellie like chili?"

"Don't have to do that," he says kindly. "Helpin' you ain't a business deal. S'what people do here." He stands straight and heads for your front door, picking up his toolbox on the way.

"Joel," you say, snagging his sleeve with your fingers. You pull them back quickly and grab the book you brought home, holding it out for him. "Ellie asked me to look for this. Could you give it to her?"

He looks at the book the same way he looks at his kid. It's tenderness so raw you look away. "I will," he says softly. He tucks the book under his arm like precious cargo. "Thank you for findin' it for her." He clears his throat and looks at you, smirk back in place. "Wasn't so bad, was it?" he asks. You don't follow. "Havin' someone help you," he adds.

Your face feels hot. "I'll still cook for you," you say, opening the door. He shakes his head.

"You let me know if you need anythin' else, alright?" A quick smile and he's down the steps and back into the street, strolling back to his own home.

"I will." You say it to yourself and almost mean it.

___

You patrol a few more times over the next month but never get paired up with Joel. If you were a little braver you'd ask Tommy or the kid he's training to take over the schedule to put you two together but you don't. Instead, you wave at Ellie when you see her, nod at Joel from the other side of rooms where he's always talking to someone else. You let yourself enjoy the way your heart picks up at the sight of him and the thrill you feel after he smiles at you. It's a nice change to the boring, lonely routine you had before.

The doors in your house open and close silently.

Being outside is fine. You don't like it any more or any less, it just is what it is. Life at the end of the world continues on.

Until you have a bad patrol.

It's no one's fault and no one gets bit. You and your partner, Astrid, are tailing a buck that's wandering along your route. If you can shoot it you can load it on one of your horses and ride back together on the other. Winter is on its way and any extra meat helps.

You follow protocol. You're lining the deer up through the scope while she keeps watch. Just as you prepare to pull the trigger you feel it -- the pull of your gut telling you something isn't right. That feeling has kept you alive all these years so you lower the rifle and turn to Astrid just in time to see a stalker lunge out of the brush.

Its broken and jagged nails catch your shoulders and you go down hard enough to bruise. You can't hear anything over its snarls and the blood pounding in your ears but you do your fucking best. You wedge your forearm under its chin and try like hell to keep its mouth away from you. Your other hand somehow makes it to your belt and unsheathes your hunting knife and in one swift movement, you shove it into the soft jaw of the infected. Hot blood spurts over your face and you keep your mouth closed, shoving the corpse off you.

A gunshot has you whirling around and scooping up the rifle. You've got it ready to fire but you only find Astrid standing over a stalker corpse of her own, forehead bleeding and revolver smoking.

"You clean?" you ask her, eyes on her forehead. She nods.

"Shoved me into some thorns. You?"

"Yeah. Can we go home now?"

Your hands don't shake until you get back to Jackson. They tremble when you wash the blood from your face, your hair. You wish for just a second that you had someone to hold them, someone to tell you it's alright. Someone to talk to about how shitty your day was and how scared you were and how sometimes this life is so fucking exhausting and just when you think you're safe you're reminded that no one is safe anymore.

Maybe this is the kind of thing Joel was talking about. Asking for help.

The thought fades quickly. You can deal with this. You're just out of practice. You just got comfortable.

You go to bed as early as you can bear, closing your eyes and hoping for dreamless sleep.

You could only be so lucky.

You're no stranger to nightmares. Hell, who isn't? Usually, it's the same old shit -- people you've lost, fucked up things you've done, horrors you've seen. You know how to deal with it.

But this is the first time in a while you've got new nightmare fuel. The hot, rancid breath of the stalker and the agonizing sound of its moans. Your own choked gasps as you try with all of your strength to keep its rotting teeth away from you. Unlike reality, your dreams don't allow you to grab a hold of your knife and instead, you feel it take a chunk out of your neck, hot blood splattering your face and you have to just lie there as it bites and bites and bites --

You jolt upright with a small gasp. Necessity has taught you to wake silently.

"Fuck," you say to the empty room. No way you're going back to sleep after that. You swing your legs over the side of your bed and put your head in your hands. "Breathe. Breathe."

The sky is black through your windows. You have no idea what time it is but you stand before the lingering panic can take hold and make things worse. Fresh air will get the iron smell out of your nose. You dress in the dark in more layers than necessary but you want to stop shaking.

Jackson at night is quiet but there are always a few people around, always someone else who can't sleep. The sky is clear and the moon is bright and it smells like woodsmoke and the unique earthy feel of the valley. This is your home. So long as you have this you can get through it.

Your feet take you through the streets of houses, most of the windows dark. Just another lap around town and then you'll go home, try to sleep again.

Then you hear something. The gentle strum of an acoustic guitar weaving with the night air like a dream. A song from before, a song you recognize but don't know the name of, don't know the words. You wrap your arms around yourself and follow the sound down Rancher Street. If you find whoever is playing it you'll wave and walk slowly home.

Your breath catches in your throat when you see whose house it is. Joel is on the porch, rocking slowly and head leaning back, eyes closed as he strums. How did you not know he played guitar? It only makes sense that the hands that are capable of such violence can also make something beautiful. He can ruffle Ellie's hair and pull the trigger and fix your doors and do this.

Something in your chest tightens.

Joel's eyes open and land on you immediately. You realize how it looks -- you standing in front of his house in the middle of the night, watching him. But he stops his playing and calls out your name.

"Hey, you alright?" he says. You hover between taking a step forward and a step back.

"Couldn't sleep."

He shakes his head. "Can't hear ya," he says. "C'mere."

Step forward it is. Up the stairs and onto the porch that creaks a little under your boots. There's only one chair and a small table with a lantern on it. Wind chimes dangle over the railing and you drag your hand through them on instinct like a child with a toy.

"Sorry," you say softly.

"Only got one chair," Joel says. He's got one boot resting on his knee, guitar slung across his lap. He looks tired. "I'll go get another --"

You wave him off. "No, please," you say. "I'll stand. I'm too antsy to sit, anyway." If you sit down in a chair next to Joel Miller you might never get up.

He frowns but settles back into his seat. "You alright?" he asks again.

His gaze is a little too much. You feel silly all of a sudden, not sure how you got here. A fucking nightmare? God, you're ridiculous. You cross your arms and lean back on the railing and look anywhere but him.

"Couldn't sleep." Joel hums.

"Heard that one before."

He strums some more and you relax again despite yourself. "Sounds nice. Do you play a lot?"

"Sometimes," he says. "Old habit."

"It's a nice one. Better than walking the streets in the dark." Your tone is harsher than you mean it to be and Joel frowns.

"It's safe to," he says, as though your wellbeing is his personal concern. "Bit cold, though."

"Why are you out here then?" You're frustrated with yourself and taking it out on him just a little bit. The smell of blood fills your nostrils again and you press your fingertips into your crossed arms, hard, and close your eyes. Your breath stutters in your chest.

"Nightmares," Joel says wryly. There's some shifting, the scrape of wood on wood and you open your eyes. His are fixated on your fingers and you stop squeezing. The guitar is now leaning up against the house and he's got his elbows on his knees like he's about to ask you a serious question. The lantern light makes his hair look darker, less silver, but it also makes the lines on his face look deeper. You wonder what kind of shit he's seen. What things he has nightmares about.

"Had this conversation with Ellie a million times," he huffs, rubs his hand through his beard in what you now consider a familiar gesture. "You don't need to talk if you don't want to. But can't hurt."

Is he asking you to talk about your nightmare? Does he actually want to know? Do you know how to talk about it?

"I take it you're a fountain of emotional sharing, huh?" Again, the misplaced frustration. You don't know how to turn it off.

His eyes flash but he just leans back in his chair and shrugs. "Depends on the day."

The low-level hum of your infatuation with him flares and your traitorous brain bats it down right away. You want to see all sides that he can offer you, want to make him frustrated and angry just to see if that'll make him sick of you.

You run your hand through the wind chimes again, watching your fingers move through the air. You remember what the knife felt like in your hand, the way the blood was hot as it dripped down your wrist and onto your face.

"Tough patrol," you say. "Messiest since I got here." Joel says nothing and you don't look at him. "I...it was fine. We got jumped by some stalkers and it was fine but...close. And I -- I didn't realize how badly I wanted to come back here until then. How badly I wanted to go home at the end of it. Does that make sense?"

You finally look up and Joel's knuckles are white on the arms of his chair. When he sees you looking he crosses his arms. "Sure," he says, clears his throat.

The urge to try to explain more is overwhelming. "I mean, we've all done fucked up shit. I've been up to my elbows in infected guts and still come out on top and slept like a rock the night after. And all of a sudden I can't fucking handle a stalker getting in my face. It's like I've never had to get my hands dirty before and what if it means I'm going to fuck up next time --"

"Hey," Joel says firmly. You feel a hand on your forearm and realize you've been pacing, arms flailing as you rambled. He gives it a squeeze and then releases you. "Feel like I gotta say fuck now to catch up with you."

A wet chuckle works its way out of you. Where did that come from? Are you about to cry? On the porch of the man you have a stupid, stupid crush on? This is embarrassing. And his touch. People touch you all the time, all things considered. A tap on patrol indicating silence, a hand on your arm to get your attention, to brace you as you lift something. Children in town who don't know the horrors outside the walls give affection freely. Hell, Joel touched your shoulder after your patrol. You're not touch starved but you feel like no one has touched you with tenderness and meant it in years.

"Sorry."

Joel tuts. "C'mon," he says. "I asked."

"I don't think I feel any better."

He stands and grunts as he does so. He's so much closer than before, so close you can smell what you can only describe as Joel: wood shavings and gunpowder, laundry soap and leather. It's a little dizzying. He leans on the railing next to you.

"Bet when you go back to bed you won't dream," he says. "Usually what happens."

"Here you are again," you sigh. "Helping me out. I promise I get on just fine on my own."

"I know," he says. His eyes are warm and so, so deep. "Don't have to, though."

Joel, for all his kindness and popularity in town, is a man just like any other. A person who has seen and done shit that no one should have to see and do. You know he's got his fair share of secrets, of things he won't talk about. You all do. You know he can be unflinching and maybe even cruel, dangerous and deadly. Whatever is happening here -- this openness, this desire of his to help you out -- is hard won. You think about what Ellie said and let yourself have a dangerous thought: maybe he's this way with you because he wants to be.

You sway into him just a little before catching yourself and standing up straight. "I should go try that dreamless sleep," you say softly. "And you should, too." It does not escape your notice that you haven't talked about Joel's nightmares, whatever they are. You don't think he'd be that open. A piece of you imagines a world where you ask and he answers.

"I might," he says. Neither of you move.

That small piece of you would stay here all night. That small piece of you tries for the next best thing.

"Will you let me cook for you now?" you ask. It sounds a little desperate to your own ears. "Please?"

"Persistent, ain't you?" He taps his closed fist on the railing once, twice. "Well, if it's that important to you. Chili, you said?"

"I can have it done by sundown tomorrow. I'm on greenhouses but we always finish early. You can come by and get it. I'll do enough for you and Ellie for a few days." You're rambling but finally he's going to let you do something for him. Hinges, nightmares, it's too much. Maybe you can somehow cook out this affection for him, get rid of it with your own hands if you try hard enough.

"Alright," Joel says. He puts his hand on your shoulder lightly and squeezes once. You feel it all the way down to your toes. "Now get outta this damn cold."

He doesn't offer to walk you home. You'd say no if he did. You need the time to sort out the mess in your mind. You give him the most earnest smile you can manage and he watches from his porch until you turn out of sight.

Joel is on your mind all day. More so than usual, which is saying a lot. The crush has turned into something...more. Something that makes you hope and that something is dangerous. It's just setting yourself up to be hurt through no fault of Joel's when it goes nowhere. Because why would he be thinking about you?

"You're smiley today," Dina says. She's a sweet girl and you're paired together on greenhouse shift today. She's always got a story to tell about plants she and her sister saw in New Mexico or some weird mushroom she found on group patrol. You love how positive she is and you try to absorb some.

"Am I?" you say lightly.

She tugs on one more cucumber, putting it in your shared basket before wiping her face. She gets dirt on her nose. It makes her look young. "Got big plans?"

Your face feels hot. "Just cooking for a...friend." It's the first time you've said that out loud. It's probably true, right? Acquaintance, at least. Joel is important to you and it's taken an alarmingly short amount of time for it to solidify. That's just how the world works these days -- you never know how much time you have so everything moves faster. You care harder despite years of proof that nothing good comes of it. You can't help it. You were made to leak love like an open wound.

"A friend," Dina teases. Teenagers. You remember that she's friends with Ellie and it's very possible she knows exactly what you're talking about but she's too kind to say anything more.

"Yep," you say, popping the p. "Do I have to start teasing you about Jesse or are you going to cut me some slack?"

"Well, hey," she laughs. "I think it's nice to be excited about something. You're so serious all the time."

"Am not," you mutter.

Something you appreciate about Dina is that despite her age she knows when to leave it. "Whatever you say," she says primly.

Once work is over and you're back home the cooking goes quick. You focus just enough considering you want this to actually be good and for Joel and Ellie to like it. It's thank you chili, it's you are important to me chili, it's I want to see you every day for the rest of my life chili.

Well. It's thank you at the very least.

And food, especially in this world, means something extra. There's enough to go around in Jackson, more than enough, but anyone taking the time to fix something with their own hands means more. You know how different a meal can taste when someone makes it with care.

And to say you care is a bit of an understatement.

The chili is simmering and you're about to start on the dishes when there's a knock on the door.

"Shit," you say. You wipe your hands on a towel and pad down the hall in socked feet. When you open it you find Joel bathed in the golden light of the sunset. His hands are tucked in his pockets, the collar of his coat turned up to protect his neck from the chill that's settled in for the season. His face softens at the sight of you but his shoulders are still tight. Is he...nervous? No, you're projecting.

Here he is on your doorstep again. If you're not careful you'll get used to him being there.

"Sorry for bein' a bit early," he says at the same time you say, "I was just thinking about you ."

The tension melts out of him and he smirks like a man with a secret. "That so?"

Your eyes are wide as you find your words. Hopefully ones that aren't embarrassing. "Come in," you say. "I'm letting the heat out."

He follows you to the kitchen. "Smells good," he says.

"It's not quite done yet but that's a good sign, I guess." You stir the pot before rolling up your sleeves and taking your spot in front of the sink. "Sorry it's a bit of a mess, I was about to start on this --"

"Now I know you ain't about to do all that yourself," Joel drawls. It's a syrupy tone you haven't heard from him, not really. Is he...flirting with you?

"I...what?"

"Scoot," Joel says. He steps beside you in front of the sink and gently bumps your hip with his. "Seriously."

"Joel--"

"Does it look like I'm kiddin'?"

He keeps his eyes on yours as he shrugs off his jacket, tosses it on this island, and rolls his shirtsleeves up to his elbow. You look away from him so you can watch.

"This is getting ridiculous," you tell him even as you hop up to sit on the counter closest to the sink so you can see his face. He turns on the tap and starts on the various things in the sink even though some of them are clearly not from cooking tonight. "You'll be sick of this chili before I can pay you back."

"I told you it ain't like that," he scolds. "So quit it."

There's no real bite to his tone but you do as he says all the same. You kick your feet out a few times and do your best not to stare but fail miserably. The fall sunlight seems to have followed him into your house, pinkish-golden beams falling across his face. You can see a triangle of chest at the top of his shirt, a few dark curls teasing the hair on him. The scar on the bridge of his nose is much harsher up close, much deeper than the countless other ones that dot his forehead, his temples. He doesn't look as tired today. Maybe he got some sleep after all.

So did you. You didn't dream.

"How was your day?" you ask. Joel's eyes flick up to yours for just a breath before he looks back down at his task. His mouth pulls up at the corner.

"Fine," he says. "Had to fix the water heater at Ellie's place."

A piece of hair falls in his face and you shove your palms under your thighs so you don't brush it back.

You tap his denim-clad thigh with your socked foot, almost like a compromise with yourself when it comes to touching him. "And that took all day?" Damn, are you the one flirting now?

Joel seems amused in a grumpy way. "Well, no," he says. The faucet is on so he speaks a little louder. "Did some house chores. Worked on a guitar. Took a nap."

The image of Joel sprawled out on a couch is clear as day. You bet he looks relaxed in his sleep, the lines on his face not as pronounced, his breathing steady and even.

"Busy day," you say softly. He's about to say more, lips parted to ask about your day, maybe, but you're not about to admit that you spent all day thinking about him so you keep talking before he can. "Does Ellie like living in the garage?"

"Think so," he says. "She spends a night in the house every so often but I think she likes havin' her own space. S'important to me to give her that."

This is uncharted territory. You desperately don't want to step in shit, to somehow make him bring his walls back up. Everyone is protective of the things they love in this world and for good reason and you're pretty sure there is nothing and no one Joel loves more than Ellie.

"She's a good kid," you offer. "Everyone in town loves her."

Joel smiles down at his hands, that soft, raw smile you've seen a few times when talking about her. It makes your chest ache. "She is," he admits. "Pain in my ass, too."

You want so badly to ask him the details. How did they meet? How did they get here? How did they become so devoted to one another? And what happened in the last twenty years to get him to right now, washing dishes in your kitchen?

But you haven't earned that stuff yet. Maybe you never will.

"Does she like Jackson?" You remember what he said about them settling in, sleeping in the living room with their shoes on. You imagine he kept watch for weeks, maybe months, before deciding it was safe.

He nods. "S'good for her to have friends. And havin' school is good for her. She's real smart." He clears his throat. "And you? D'you like it?"

"Well, I like it much better now that my hinges don't squeak."

Joel laughs. "I'll bet you do." He's almost done, everything from your chili-making washed and set aside to dry. He's doing your dishes from breakfast but shows no signs of stopping."Do you cook like this a lot?

Your brows furrow. "I-- no, actually," you admit. "It's just me, so. Not worth putting in the effort that often."

He turns off the tap and grabs a towel and starts to dry. You should offer to help but you feel frozen to the counter. If you get any closer to him you might snap. His jaw is tight.

"When Ellie and I --" he stops, takes a moment to focus on the bowl in his hands. Joel, you've noticed, doesn't tend to say things he doesn't mean, at least not to you. It's like he knows that every word counts in a life as unpredictable as this. "We had a bit of a rough patch last year and we didn't talk for a while. I was damn near eatin' canned veggies on days Tommy didn't drag me to the community meals." He sighs and sets the bowl on the counter ever so gently. Violence and tenderness go hand in hand with him. "Just didn't have it in myself to try cookin' if she wasn't there to eat it."

It's the most vulnerable thing he's said. He keeps doing this -- offering you pieces of himself that you want to hold close, that make you think maybe he wants you to know him.

"Joel--"

"I guess what I'm sayin' is it's easier to take care of yourself when you're also takin' care of people who matter to you. That make sense?"

"Yeah," you breathe. "It does."

The whole scene is so...domestic that your chest aches. Joel in your kitchen doing your dishes. He's helping you yet again but this feels different. It feels like he wants to be here, talking to you. It feels real.

He finishes his task and dries his hands on a faded towel. You hop down from the counter to check the chili. "Should be done," you say. "Do you want to try it? Make sure it's worth it?"

"Oh, it's worth it," he mutters. You work to keep your face neutral. What does that mean? "Sure."

You pull a spoon from the drawer and while it would make more sense to just hand it to him you don't. Instead, you dip it into the steaming liquid and hold it out for him, your other hand cupped underneath to catch any spill. Joel stares at your offering for a few seconds and you wonder if he can hear your heart beating.

Then Joel reaches out slowly like he's afraid you'll bolt if he goes too fast, and lightly wraps his hand around your wrist. It's the first time he's touched you skin to skin and you know immediately that it's a mistake.

You'll never stop wanting him now.

His palm is warm, callused fingertips pressing gently into your skin and he tugs, bringing the spoon -- and you -- closer to his mouth. Everything moves in slow motion for a few moments and it's like you are the only two people in the world. Your kitchen fades and it's just Joel. His lips part and he slides the spoon into his mouth at the same time as his thumb strokes the inside skin of your wrist.

It's very possible that you gasp a little.

He closes his eyes and you're torn between watching his face and his throat as he swallows. You could look at him forever, you think, and never get enough. The set of his brow, the hard line of his jaw. Lines around his eyes and mouth from years of terror and violence but also from laughter and smiles. You want to learn every inch of him if he'll let you.

"Christ," Joel says. His eyes fly open and find yours. "That's good. That's real good."

"You're just saying that," you say weakly. He hasn't let go of your wrist and his thumb strokes once again. You wonder if you realize he's doing it.

Something in his face changes, something so small that you only notice because you're watching. It feels like he has decided something and you wish you knew him well enough to say what. You dare to hope it has to do with you.

"Oh, sweetheart, I'm a good liar but I ain't just sayin' that."

Sweetheart. It echoes in your ears, burrows its way into your chest and takes root.

You're so fucked.

But there's something in Joel's gaze, in the brush of his thumb across your skin, in the fact he's just done all of your dishes and talked to you like he wants to be here that gives your traitorous heart some ground to stand on.

You send him home with as many glass containers of chili as he'll take. He argues that you won't have enough for yourself and manages to convince you to keep a few. You don't tell him that what you really want is to sit next to him at a table and eat it, knees bumping under the wood and his smile making your empty house feel warm.

"Tell Ellie I say hi," you say once he's out your door and on the porch. "And let me know if she likes it."

"Will do," Joel says. You hug your arms around yourself against the chill. He frowns slightly.

You wonder if he'd touch you if his hands weren't full.

"And thank you for--"

He shakes his head. "Not acceptin' thanks," he chides. "Not from you."

You don't know what to say to that. Joel seems to realize he's rendered you speechless, not for the first time, and nods his head before heading home.

"See you around, Joel," you call after him. It sounds half like a question and half like a wish.

He turns. "Countin' on it."

___

You do see him around but not as much as you'd like. Things pick up around town before the seasons can change and send Wyoming into winter. You find yourself in the kitchen most days helping seal jars for the community food stores, hands chapped from the hot water and heart light when you think about Joel. He nods at you from across the dining hall, opens the door of the library when you're going in and he's coming out, and tells Ellie to tell you how good the chili was when you share a shift at the stables.

"Fucking amazing," she says.

You sleep fairly well, going to bed each night with a little bit of lightness in your heart that you allow because why not? There's no way out short of Joel telling you to fuck off and you don't think that'll happen. If only you could get over yourself a little more and actually do something about it.

As much as you want to keep telling yourself that this -- glances across rooms, smiles from a distance, memories of his hand on your skin -- is enough, you're not sure that it is. The force of your want is destabilizing considering the most that's happened is maybe a little bit of flirting. But maybe this is you taking his direction to ask for...no help, not exactly, but to ask for something. To ask for him.

Today you're going on patrol. You decide as you mount your horse that you're going to ask Joel if he wants to get a drink when you get back. You want to talk to him again, let him under your skin a little more. Maybe tell him some things about yourself. Sometimes he's milling around the gate or on wall duty but you don't see him as you and your partner -- a fairly new kid in his twenties -- take your rifles and head out. You're on an easy route today, just clearing out the town over the hill and the highway exits near Jackson. Shouldn't take you more than a few hours.

It goes to shit fairly quickly.

The kid -- Conner? Charlie? You can't remember -- is rambling about the infected he's killed for some reason when you realize something isn't quite right. You can't hear any birds. Apollo snorts and it sounds panicked. You motion for the kid to stop talking but he either ignores you or doesn't see.

He sure shuts up when the clicker bursts out of a house to your left. Apollo startles and rears at the moment you reach for your gun and you can't grab hold in time.

You go flying, bouncing off a rusted-out car and landing hard on the broken pavement of the street with a popping sound. There is a pain in your shoulder so intense your vision whites out. The kid is shouting, the clicker is making that awful sound, but then you hear two gunshots and nothing else.

"Holy fuck," he says, rushing over to you. "Fuck, are you okay?"

Well, for a talker, this kid a good shot.

"Get the -- horse --" You roll onto your back with a groan and he grabs Apollo and settles him.

"What happened?"

You stare up at the sky, blue turning purple. It'll be sunset soon and you very well might be fucked if this is what you think it is.

"I think my shoulder popped out," you say through gritted teeth. Your head doesn't hurt like you smacked it and your side is only a little sore. Maybe some bruised ribs. Your hands are scraped, blood beading on the heels of your palms. "Help me up."

"Holy shit." He helps you sit up and then stand, your left arm hanging limp at your side. You hiss through your teeth as it gets jostled and lean heavily on the car. "You don't look so good," he says. "Can you ride? We should only be a half hour out of town."

"I...don't think so." You're pretty sure you'll pass out from the pain and this kid doesn't look like he can handle that. You don't want to fuck up the joint any more than you have to. "You're going to have to go back and bring someone to set it for me, okay?"

"But the rules say --"

"I know what the fucking rules say," you snap. Don't let your partner out of your sight. Your shoulder is throbbing and you might cry but not until this kid is on his way back to town. "That's why you're going to go as fast as you can, alright?"

"We should at least clear a building first so you can --"

"No time," you say, looking at the sky. "If we want to be back before nightfall you need to go now. I'll handle myself."

You really should know his name. He sets his jaw in a move that reminds you of Joel which causes a pang in your chest so intense you want to rub it away. "I'll clear that garage, okay?" He points behind you and before you can stop him he runs towards it with his gun out.

Lucky for both of you it's clear. You take Apollo inside and slump against the wall, pistol in your hand. The kid closes the garage door behind him and you hear the clop of his horse as he gallops away.

"Fuck," you say into the empty room. It's dusty and full of cobwebs and not much else. Empty metal shelves, a rusted-out lawn mower, some tarps so ratted they're useless. Apollo snorts. "Not your fault, buddy."

Death has been nipping at your heels for twenty years now. You've always expected it. And you're fairly certain you won't die out here. Maybe end up spending a night on this floor, having to walk yourself back to Jackson tomorrow morning. But you can't help the fear that rises in your throat. You know how an injury like this means so much more in this world. You won't be able to work for weeks. You won't be able to patrol, to pull your weight.

You're going to need a lot of help.

You close your eyes against the stinging tears and thud your head against the wall.

The pain dulls the embarrassment you feel when you catch yourself thinking of Joel. You wish he was here. If you'd been on patrol together this wouldn't have happened. You wonder what he's going to think of this.

What you'd really like is for him to hold you and tell you it'll be alright.

A few tears slip down your nose. Apollo noses at your knee.

There are no windows so you don't know how much time has passed. You start to question if this was the right call. Maybe you could have made it back on horseback, or at the very least slung across the back of Apollo like a sack of flour, arm be damned.

Your traitorous brain is about to remind you of all the things that go bump in the night out here when you hear something.

Someone is calling your name. Yelling it.

"Here!" you scream. Apollo whinnies. "I'm here!" You have no idea if they can hear you. You press your good shoulder into the wall behind you and try to push yourself to your feet but just as you do the garage door is hauled open and there stands --

Joel.

A sob bursts from your throat and you will yourself to pull it together. Behind him the sky is much more orange than it was when you first sat down.

Joel's eyes look you up and down once before cataloging the space and locking on some milk crates. He stacks two of them.

"Sit," he says. His voice is tight.

"Joel --"

"Sit."

You do as he says. He kneels at your feet and rummages around in his bag. His horse stands munching on some overgrown grass on the driveway. Did he come alone?

"How are you here --"

Joel cuts you off with a glare. His eyes are blazing, jaw grinding as he holds out a length of bandage.

"Hold this." He stands and his knees crack. "Kid said it's your shoulder. Anything else?"

The throb is still deep, still intense, but his arrival almost made you forget all about it. You shake your head.

"Didn't hit your head? Crack ribs? Nothin' like that?"

"No, I don't think so --"

"Need you to sit up straight," he says. There's no warmth in his tone but it's a little softer now that he's taken stock of the situation. "I ain't gonna lie to you, this is going to hurt like hell." He digs in his pocket for something and pulls out a square of leather. "Need you to bite down on this."

He squats so that you're just about face to face and holds out the leather. It feels like being in your kitchen, you holding out the spoon and fighting your desire to touch him. Except this time he won't look you in the eye. You open your mouth and he gently places it between your teeth, thumb catching the corner of your lips and trailing along the edge of your chin before he pulls away and stands up.

"I'm going to reset it on three, alright? Bite down hard on that." He finally meets your gaze and you nod and close your eyes. He puts one hand on your shoulder and the other on your wrist and you wince even though you feel incredibly safe in his hands. "Alright. One...two --"

Joel jerks your arm up and around before he hits three and you barely hear it pop back into place because, as he said, it hurts like hell. You bite down hard on the leather which also serves to muffle your scream.

Someone is talking to you."I know, baby, I know. Good job, you did a good job."

You open your eyes and wipe away a few tears with one hand and pull the leather from your teeth. Joel looks pained but his face snaps back to neutral when he sees you watching. His eyes narrow.

"Where did that come from?" He gently grabs your wrist and looks at your palm and you both find it bloody. "Got it on your face."

"Scraped my hands when I fell," you say hoarsely. He clicks his tongue.

"Give me that bandage." You don't even get a chance to hand it to him because he plucks it from your lap. "Gonna make this into a sling for this arm. Try not to move it much. Then we'll clean those hands and head home. Get you to the clinic for some meds." He gently positions your arm, which hurts a lot less than before but is still throbbing, and ties a sling so it's bent close to your chest. You can feel his breath on your neck as he does the knot.

And then he's back crouching in front of you.

Joel Miller on his knees for you so many times in one day makes you a little dizzy. Or maybe that's the adrenaline.

"Are you angry with me?" you ask softly as he wipes clean your palms and cheek with firm touches. The muscle in his jaw twitches again and his hands freeze for a split second.

"No," he says. "I ain't mad at you. I just can't believe the fuckin' kid left you here."

"I told him to."

"Can't believe that either. You know better."

"It's fine, Joel," you say. "It doesn't matter. I would have just walked back in the morning if no one came --"

He pulls his hands away and tosses the rag to the floor. "Damnit, it does matter," he curses. "'Course it fuckin' matters. Cut that shit out."

Now you're confused. It sure seems like he's angry with you. "Joel, I don't understand --"

His hands cradle your face and the protest dies in your throat. "You matter to me," he says thickly. His eyes are wide but his stare is steady. "Ain't it fuckin' obvious?" Anger and desperation are dripping from his words. "It matters."

For one long second you think he's going to kiss you. Now that might kill you.

You wrap one hand around his wrist and lean into his palm. A thousand thoughts swirl in your head but you focus on one. Joel is here which means you're safe. Joel is here which means he's going to take care of you. Joel is here. Joel is here. Joel is here.

"Oh," you breathe. You turn your face in his palm and press your lips to the center of it. His breath hitches and it feels like something big between you shifts, slots into place. "Okay," you say against his skin.

He pulls his hands away and stands. He works his jaw a few times before shouldering his pack and holding out his hand. "Let's go home," he says.

You stand with his help. "I think you'll need to help me get on my horse."

"Not a fuckin' chance," he growls but you can still see tenderness in his eyes. "Can't hold on well enough with one arm. We're ridin' together."

This Joel is one you haven't seen. But this is what you wanted, right? You want to see every part of him. Something molten and heavy sits in your stomach at how tense he is, how his hands remain gentle despite his harsh words. How he just told you that you matter to him. Maybe this is all a dream.

He helps you on his horse and then gets on behind you, tying Apollo's reigns to his so you won't lose him. He wraps one arm right around your stomach, mindful of your arm.

"Ain't gonna be comfortable," he says in your ear. "But it'll be over quick."

You lean back into him. Hell, it's all on the table now. If your arm is going to hurt you might as well enjoy your time pressed against him.

"Oh, I don't know," you say. "This isn't so bad." He snorts and snaps the reigns.

He talks low and steady in your ears as you gallop, his palm firm on your abdomen to keep you as still as possible though it's a hopeless venture. Your shoulder aches, sends sharp tendrils of pain through your entire arm with every stride.

He tells you that he was on the wall when your partner came back alone. That he knew something was wrong with you as soon as the kid came into view. He'd seen the patrol assignments and knew you were paired together. Kid didn't know what flag to use to signal his approach because you're not supposed to leave behind your partner.

Joel tells you how he hopped down from the wall and asked the kid where exactly he left you. Demanded to know how hurt you were, if you'd been bit. He was on a horse before anyone else could get their shit together, told them to get Tommy and have the clinic ready for you. Started hollering your name as soon as he got to the street, rifle ready for any infected to show up.

"Damn miracle when you yelled back," he says just as Jackson comes into view. You're sweating and dizzy from the pain, practically all of your weight slumped back into his chest. "Almost there, sweetheart. Doin' real good."

The rest of it is a blur. Joel takes you to the clinic where he becomes increasingly agitated that he set your shoulder wrong until one of the staff says he did it just fine. They give you a real sling and one painkiller to take if you hurt really bad, despite some harsh words from Joel in an attempt to get you more.

"Don't move it above your head for two weeks. Keep the sling on for that time, too. Ice it today, start moving it back and forth a few times in a few days. You got someone to help you for a bit?"

Before you can open her mouth Joel answer for you.

"Yes." The nurse hides her amusement well. She lets you go. Joel keeps his hand on your back as he walks you to your house.

You stop him when you get to your front door. "Joel --"

"If you're about to argue with me, so help me God, I'll --"

"I was going to ask if you need to go check on Ellie." You pull out your keys and after a second hold them out for him. Maybe letting Joel help you is helping him, too. You can handle that. You think.

"Told Tommy to when I left. I'll go home once we get you settled."

We.

"Okay," you say softly. He unlocks the door and motions for you to go in. You sit gingerly on the couch and Joel brings you a glass of water.

And then he paces. He looks at the books on your shelf without seeing them and rubs his thumb against his first two fingers over and over. And all of a sudden he won't look at you.

"Joel, sit down or something," you grumble. "You're making me nervous."

He stops. "Fine." His tone has a bit of bite to it that makes you close your eyes. There's an armchair in the room but he sits next to you instead. He presses his knee to yours, almost in apology.

The adrenaline has faded by now and all you feel is the ache of your shoulder and ribs and rawness of your palms and heart. The shoulder hurts like hell but in a way all of this hurts deeper, harder than that. In the way you know love, or the beginning of it, can hurt.

You sniffle.

Truth is you're overwhelmed. By what happened, by Joel coming to get you and saying all that shit. By him touching you, by him being here, by your own heart beating so quickly at his nearness. Even though you dared hope he felt something close to your affection for him it's a shock to realize he cares about you because you're you, not just because he's a good man. You've always wanted love that came from a place of purpose, which feels selfish on the best of days. You should just accept whatever kindness comes your way in this cruel world.

But, fuck, you've always wanted to feel chosen. Like you matter.

And you do. Right here, you do. From his own lips he's said you do.

You don't even realize you're crying until Joel curses softly and one wide, warm palm is on your face again.

"What's wrong? You hurtin'?" His thumb swipes at your tears. "Talk to me."

"I'm fine." You press your face into his shoulder and he holds you, hand soft on the back of your head. "I'm just -- I'm just really glad you're here, Joel."

"Course I'm here," he says into your hair. "C'mere."

There's nowhere for you to go considering you're already pressed against him. But his arms come around you fully, mindful of your shoulder, and your fingers fist in his shirt.

You should be embarrassed. On the scale of fucked up shit that's happened to you, today is remarkably low. But you let yourself have this. You breathe him in and let him hold you.

"I was going to ask you to get a drink tonight," you mumble. His chest vibrates with laughter.

"That so?" he says. His hand rubs up and down your spine. "Reckon I'd say yes."

You pull back just enough to see his face. This close you can see how his eyes have a bit of gold in them. "Really?" Even with proof of his affection right in front of you it's a little hard to believe.

"Am I readin' this wrong?" he asks. "It's okay if I am--"

"No," you say quickly. "No, you're not."

"Thought so." His lips pull up at the corner just a bit. "But, still. You've had a real rough day, and --"

"Joel," you breathe. You free your good arm from your embrace and put your hand on his jaw. He's touched you plenty today and you want to give it a try yourself. His face is warm, his beard gently rubbing against your skin. His eyes flutter close for a breath before he opens them wide and leans into your hand just a little.

"Alright," he says softly. Then he says your name, just once, ever so tenderly. It sounds like a prayer.

Joel Miller kisses you in the middle of your living room. Despite the affection you've been nursing for him over the last little while you never allowed yourself to imagine what it would be like to kiss him.

It's like this: the first press of his lips is soft like he thinks you'll pull away. When you don't he takes your lower lip between his and presses a little harder. Your hand slides into his hair and he palms your hip with one of his and cups your face with the other. His tongue traces the seam of your lips and you open for him, let him lick into your mouth. You sigh into it and tug on his hair just a little. Joel makes a sound deep in his throat and then pulls away.

You're both breathing heavier than before, both smiling. Joel presses his lips to your forehead, your temple. He holds you against him and you breathe against the skin of his neck.

"Will you let me take care of you?" he says into your hair.

"For my sake or yours?"

You think he'll laugh but he just breathes. "Both," he says. "Hell, you know what's goin' on here. I showed my hand. Been showin' it." He pulls away so you can see the honesty in his face. "I told you in as many damn words as I know how."

He did. He did and you make yourself believe it. Love in this life is worth holding on with both hands. Whatever this is, whatever this is going to become, you want it. You want to let this man continue to teach you to ask for help. You want to learn from him, maybe teach him a few things of your own.

You want to love him. You think you could sooner rather than later.

You trace the line of his brow, run your fingertip over the scar on the bridge of his nose.

"Can you kiss me again?" you ask.

"What a fuckin' question," he says. "C'mere."

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, general masterlist here!

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fluff #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction

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emmyspov · 1 year

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Prioritise yourself (Thranduil x Reader)

author's note: happy easter to everyone who celebrates it and a happy weekend to all either way🪻this is honestly one of the most scary things i've posted because it's something so personal that i relate to a lot, but i thought maybe someone else might need it, too🥺 please always remember that nothing will ever be more important than your health and well-being 🩷

warnings: symptoms of burnout, lack of sleep, exhaustion, negative self-talk, skipping meals, mentions of food, nudity (for taking a bath together) - please please please let me know if I forgot something! 🩷

word count: 1.9k

edit is mine, all pics are from pinterest :)

It had seemed like a smart idea when you offered Thranduil to help him with all the paperwork.

His days were filled with meetings and more often than not he only returned to your chambers once it was dark already.

So, for the past few months, you had been - more or less secretly - helping him with whatever you could: sending out invitations to other royals, filing away documents, re-writing contracts so all that would be left to do was sign them.

You were the king's partner after all and you wanted to help him as much as possible. This was your kingdom, your home, as much as it was his, as he regularly reminded you.

Thranduil noticed, obviously. The hours in his study were reduced since most things were taken care of in a perfect way already - he could return to your private rooms right after dinner and spend time with you instead which the Elvenking appreciated immensely.

However, over the past few weeks, things have taken a turn. And Thranduil noticed that, too.

How, on some days, you would get up earlier than him, how you would skip lunch and dinner with him - although it was one of your favorite things since you got to spend it with one another during your otherwise busy schedules - and instead eat by yourself, hunched over some papers. He noticed your tired eyes and dull skin and- lack happiness, to cut it short.

Worry didn't even remotely describe what he was feeling. He felt sick to his stomach when he thought about you being unhappy.

Today was no different.

You had gotten up before sunrise, leaving your husband a little love letter, before entering your own study to take care of all official things.

There was a lot to do. Other elves as much as people from Laketown and even dwarves were sending letters, hoping to schedule a meeting with the king himself to talk over whatever was bothering them.

You made it your mission to answer every single one of them, noting down appointments and also sending out excuses if Thranduil wasn't the right one to talk to when it came to certain matters.

By the end of the day, your head was pounding. You let out a yawn and rubbed your eyes, hoping to relieve some of the pressure behind them, but to no use.

Closing them for only a minute wouldn't hurt. You could still look for your husband afterwards.

A line had been crossed for the Elvenking.

It was the second day in a row that you skipped your shared meals and from what he just learned, you weren't eating them at all.

He needed to talk to you. He wouldn’t - and couldn’t - let you destroy yourself over some work. Your happiness and well being came first and he would make you realise that, no matter the cost.

After reaching your study and receiving no answer to his knocks, he let himself in with determined steps, only to stop abruptly as soon as he saw your sleeping figure. His eyes softened immediately.

"Oh, meleth."

With two big steps, he was by your side, crouching down until he was on eye level with you. Even in your sleep, you looked stressed, your eyebrows scrunched up, reminding him of the times you woke up from a bad dream.

"What are you doing to yourself, hm?"

Gentle, as if you would break like glass if he touched you with too much force, he picked you up and carried you out of the room and into your shared bed chamber where he set you down on the soft mattress and covered you with a fluffy blanket.

Thranduil left the room again for only a few moments so he could blow out the candle in your study and put everything where it belonged. He himself hated to work at a messy desk and didn't want you to deal with the same thing once you would return to work, although he didn't want to think about that yet. For now, you needed rest and all the love and care you could get.

He returned to your bedroom after he spoke to some of his subordinates to let them know neither he nor you would be available in the next three days.

You were still fast asleep, curled up into the blanket. The king walked over to you and slowly began to remove all your uncomfortable clothing before he himself put on a night gown.

Only then did he lay down next to you, carefully maneuvering your body into his arms, your head on his chest. Even in your sleep you wrapped your arm around his waist and entangled your legs, letting out a small sigh.

"Sleep, meleth, you've been working too hard", your husband whispered and brought his delicate fingertips up to brush some hair out of your face before letting them trail down to your back, rubbing some calming circles into your shoulder. "I'll watch over you, I promise."

And Thranduil kept his word.

He stayed up to make sure you slept through the night, occasionally pressing a kiss to your temple or the top of your head while his fingers were always touching you in some way.

It was nearly lunch time when you woke up the next day.

After noticing you were still cuddled up with your husband although the sun was already shining into the room, you immediately sat up.

"I- I overslept, oh Varda, there is so much to do. Why didn’t you wake me, my love?"

With a gentle force, Thranduil pressed you back onto the mattress.

"You've been overworking yourself for weeks and your health and happiness are suffering in return. I told everyone we wouldn't be available for the next few days. For the foreseeable future, we'll only take care of you."

You didn't want to cry. And you tried really hard to keep the tears at bay, but when the Elvenking looked at you with so much love in his eyes, you couldn’t stop them.

"I'm sorry for failing you, my king."

The elf wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close. "Oh meleth, no. No, you didn't fail me, you never have. And you never will."

"I can't even take care of myself", you hiccuped, burying your face in the crook of his neck. "It's like the work and the pressure never stop and I'll never be good enough and now I am sitting here, crying to you, a literal king who has way more responsibility than me. I am so sorry to burden you with this."

Thranduil's heart was breaking. He couldn't believe this was how you saw yourself when, to him, you were the most beautiful being in all of Middle Earth.

"You are never a burden to me. Do you hear me? Never. We can fix this. You have to learn how to prioritise yourself. I can teach you. I will teach you. And we will start right now. You must be hungry, what do you want to eat?"

You fumbled around with your hands before looking up at the Elvenking. "Could I have some pancakes?"

Thranduil leaned forward to press a kiss against your nose. "Whatever you want, meleth nîn."

With one swift motion, he got up, put on one of his majestic robes and made his way to the kitchen to order your beloved pancakes and some additional treats as well as some hot and cold beverages.

He returned to your chambers with a first tray of food, watching your face lit up with delight at the sweet smell.

"Here you go, my love. Eat as much as you want and take all the time you need. There are no other things that need to get done today or the next few days."

You nodded and grabbed a plate, happily munching on the food the servants were bringing in over time.

The king was watching you carefully while he himself ate something. It was more than obvious that all the food was good for your mind, body and soul.

You let yourself fall back against the sheets when you were done, letting out a satisfied sigh. "That was good."

"It is about to get better. What do you think of a bath?"

Your eyes lit up. "Right now?"

The elf couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle. "Is that what you want?"

You sat up, enthusiastically bouncing on the mattress and nodding your head. "Yes, please!"

Thranduil stood up again and walked into the bathroom, filling the tub with hot water and your favourite bath salts and flower petals before coming back to you.

With ease, he wrapped his arms around you and lifted you off the bed, carrying you into the bathroom.

"Arms up", he ordered gently and removed your clothing, doing the same to himself afterwards.

"You're so handsome", you breathed out as you softly pressed your hand against his chest, right above his heart. "I'm so lucky to have you."

Thranduil's heart started to beat faster under your touch and praise and you smiled, feeling butterflies in your stomach at the fact that you still had this effect on him.

He lifted you into the tub, setting you down and lowering himself behind you, pulling your body flush against his chest.

"I'm the lucky one."

You shook your head before letting it fall back against his shoulder. "You take care of me when I can't do it myself."

The king's deft fingers brushed through your hair, letting them trail down your arm. "We take care of each other. You are the one who decreased my work load so I'd have more time."

You intertwined your hands. "Well, of course. I want you to be well."

A kiss was pressed against the top of your head. "Do you see my point?"

You nodded. "I think I do."

Thranduil let his thumb brush over the back of your hand. "Tomorrow, we can take a walk in the garden and look at all the blossoming flowers. Or we can do whatever else will make you happy."

A smile graced your lips. "Just being with you makes me happy."

Gently, the ellon grabbed your chin and turned your head around so he could kiss you. You melted into his embrace, smiling against his lips.

"Gi melin", he whispered after you two had parted for air and you replied with the same sentiment.

Once you two had soaked in the water for a while, the Elvenking grabbed your shampoo and lathered up his hands before bringing them up to your scalp to work in the product.

The more time you spend like this with your husband - in your little bubble of happiness and safety - the lighter your heart felt.

And it only got better when Thranduil's hands wandered down your head to your neck and shoulders, massaging your tense muscles to help you relax even further.

You shuddered and the king grinned to himself. He was just as pleased as you were earlier that his touch could, still, make you weak in the knees.

"Rest, meleth", he whispered as he continued to work on your upper back. "There will be time to talk about long-term adjustments and solutions, but for now, you can let yourself fall. I'll be there to catch you."

Everything-Taglist: @shadowhuntyi @asgardianhobbit98 @fizzyxcustard

-> if you want to be added or removed from my taglist, just shoot me a message or an ask 🩷

#thranduil #thranduil x reader #thranduil x you #thranduil x y/n #thranduil imagine #elvenking #king of the woodland realm #the hobbit #the hobbit imagine #tolkien #elves #mirkwood #reader insert #please don't hate me for writing him ooc #and for making grammar and spelling mistakes #god why am i so nervous to post this #i'll probably throw my phone away after clicking post now

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theheirofthesharingan · 1 month

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Are there any silly or interesting Itachi/Sasuke/other character headcanons you've always wanted to share?

Some of these will be Modern-AUish, some canon compliant, and some Akatsuki AU.

Whenever Sasuke sees something that's interesting to (only) him as a child he rushes to Itachi to share it. Itachi is his go-to person whenever he wants to share something. Itachi sometimes lets Sasuke's excitement slide because he's too busy/too tired, and little Sasuke is infuriated. He expresses his fury in form of stomping his feet, walking around the house with a pout. He keeps yelling in front of Itachi's room that no one loves him and genuinely looks sad. No one understands why Sasuke is acting so weird until Itachi picks on it and gives Sasuke some treat. It's super easy to please him.

Itachi is a bad cook. Sasuke is even worse. That's why whenever their parents aren't home, Itachi cooks and Sasuke waits instead of helping him. One time when Sasuke "helped", it almost invited disaster. Itachi swore to never let Sasuke in since then. Sasuke is super salty because what he did at 12 shouldn't be held against him, right? Itachi won't listen. Their parents have no idea about it. So, whenever Itachi cooks something in his millionth attempt, certain that he made the dish perfect, Sasuke always shoots him down with "I've had better". Though later at night he sneaks into the kitchen to finish the rest, because why not.

Sasuke likes to hang out with Madara, but he's always been scared of the old man. Sasuke says he looks good only when he's not speaking or smiling. He always hides behind Itachi whenever Madara is visiting them. Itachi often uses it against Sasuke when he won't let him finish his work. "Go to sleep, Sasuke, or Madara uncle will come." It's an inside joke and Madara is definitely not pleased because he loves kids. He doesn't want to be the bad guy in Sasuke's eyes.

Both the brothers love to go on long cycle rides, especially in summers.

Naruto and Sasuke have a lot of sleepovers. Whenever Sasuke has to go to Naruto's house, Itachi drops him there. And when Naruto has to come to Sasuke's house, they want Itachi to tell them horror stories. Not overly keen on scaring them both, he tries to evade, but Naruto wouldn't listen. To set the mood, all the lights are kept off, and as soon as Itachi starts, Naruto hides himself in covers, and Sasuke rolls his eyes. Although later at night neither Naruto nor Sasuke want to go out alone to pee. Sasuke is just as scared as Naruto. He just doesn't want to show.

Minato and Kushina love both the brothers. Because of them their families are super close as well. Occasionally, Minato would take all the three kids to some other city/fun place, and come home super exhausted, because Naruto and Sasuke are a menace.

When they're kids, and Mikoto and Fugaku have to leave for a few hours, Kakashi and Yamato have to babysit them. Kakashi hates it because he'd rather be reading his books, but Yamato loves spending time with them. He loves to spoil both the kids. Sasuke just ends up pulling Yamato's hair and also tries to pull Kakashi's mask. But he can't.

Itachi has a Danzo plushie, decorated with red marks and is beaten down badly as if Itachi likes to punch it every time he's mad. Mikoto is horrified because since when her sweet child become this violent. Fugaku gives Itachi a treat when he learns this. Sasuke just likes to pull Danzo plushie's ears because they're fun to him.

Sasuke hates Shisui and Izumi at home. They steal the time he can spend with his nii-san. But when Itachi is not home, Shisui takes Sasuke with him and they train and Shisui deliberately loses his matches. Sasuke tells everything to Itachi with glee that he defeated Shisui when they trained together. Sasuke grudgingly admits to himself only that he likes spending time with Shisui too, but he won't ever feed Shisui's ego, because his nii-san is still the best.

Kisame is another person Sasuke is scared of. But he gets to like him. If anything, if ever Sasuke is mad at his brother, Kisame sides with Sasuke, and tells his brother how terrible of a big brother Itachi is. One day, Sasuke spent exactly 30 minutes complaining about Itachi to Kisame. And obviously, Kisame lectured Itachi that evening.

Being Itachi's little brother, Sasuke is the unofficial member of the Akatsuki. He has his own tiny Akatsuki robe. He doesn't understand why he doesn't get "dangerous" missions like his brother does. They tell him he's the most important person in the Akatsuki, so he must get special treatment. They keep all the gory shit out of his knowledge.

Sasuke really, really dislikes Kakuzu. He also finds Hidan weird. He wants to protect his brother from Deidara because Deidara just seems like he's obsessed with his brother. Itachi must be protected from him.

The people Sasuke loves in the Akatsuki after his brother are Konan and Sasori. Sasori makes puppets/toys for him (without all the blood and stuff) and gifts them to Sasuke. Konan is like a mom to him. In Itachi's absence she takes care of Sasuke.

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x-liv25-jamieswife · 20 days

Text

hawthorne weekly dinner head canons

this has been sitting in my drafts for so long (although i only started posting earlier this week, i've had a few posts in my drafts for a while) you can't tell me they don't have weekly dinners. they're all literally so cute. like i can just imagine the four brothers, avery, libby, max, and even rebecca and thea sometimes spending some time all together. i might make a part two bc i honestly love the idea of all of them spending time together at dinner.

max and xander are always talking about the weird things that happened to them that week (once, they managed to get stuck with a lion in a cage at the zoo)

libby and grayson usually cook the food together. xander will help libby make the desserts.

once grayson starts dating someone (lyra probably, for some reason i'm still not convinced they'll end up together), obviously she joins these little dinners.

avery sometimes forces alisa to stop working and join too. she slowly starts to get over nash bc of them (she realises she's a girlboss and doesn't need a man in her life (i hc that she's bi))

grayson really enjoys the meals. he slowly starts to loosen up and smile more (this makes everyone really happy).

they once dared avery to make the food one night, but she's a horrible cook so they just decided to order take out.

jamie, when the plates and everything have been taken away from the table, gets on top of it and starts twerking.

the dinners always lead to everyone settling down in the living room and watching movies/tv shows (in two other posts, i mentioned that xander, grayson, libby, and avery love medical dramas so they probably all just watch that)

rebecca doesn't really like socializing with so many people at once so she brings a book with her. thea notices her all lonely and starts to talk to her bc she's such a good gf (istg they're so cute together).

avery and jameson always sit next to each other and are touching each other (sometimes jamie has an arm wrapped around her shoulder, other times he's holding her hand or places his hand on her thigh.

grayson canonically loves photography, and so these dinners give him the opportunity to show his work. he also takes pictures of them at dinner

sometimes he'll also show everyone some piano pieces he composed (this guy most definitely plays the piano)

these dinner usually end up becoming games of truth or dares, never have i ever, two truths and a lie etc. these games reveal so many things about everyone. so people get to know each other better

libby always has a slew of funny stories about baby avery. avery's always blushing from embarrassment.

sometimes, thea's just on her phone the whole time replying to comments and stuff.

xander likes to sit next to grayson cause he likes to talk about his gadgets and, bc gray doesn't really speak, he can talk freely (gray loves hearing him talk about things he enjoys). xander also has max sitting on his other side so that he can talk to her too, but usually she's busy talking to avery and stuff

during one of these family dinners, they learned that gray had an emo phase when he was 11.

they also learned that avery used to be a hopeless romantic thanks to max and libby (the four brothers, thea, rebecca, and alisa were all shocked cause she doesn't seem like she would be one but then they realized it made sense)

during a game of truth or dare, jameson managed to bang his head so hard on the table he passed out (idk what the dare was)

libby tends to sit across grayson and they start talking about cooking and stuff.

grayson once forgot about the dinner but really wanted to attend. he couldn't find a shirt he liked though and he was so tired that he just showed up shirtless (everyone had no words)

sometimes, avery or one of the brothers will post pics of their dinners and fans always think it's adorable.

jamie and avery will talk about the trips they took together

nash loves to talk about taylor swift's easter eggs/cryptic posts, etc. max who's also a hard core swiftie joins in. the rest of the table, at some point, start to like talking about these easter eggs too, and it becomes a huge thing (i hc that all of them were already swifties prior to these dinners. some less addicted to her music than others though)

they all like reading (except for thea, she doesn't get the point of it) so they start talking about thebooks they like or are currently reading.

at one of these family dinners, its revealed that nash reads smut (people already knew max and xander read smut already cause they aren't ashamed to talk about the weird shit they read)

max is always threatening avery to reveal all of her dirty secrets (they've been friends since childhood, of course max knows things about avery that no one else does)

at first, libby was kinda shy to talk at the table bc she felt like people didn't really care about what she had to say (fuck you drake, it's all cause of him) so nash started comforting her and encouraging her to talk. grayson overheard the conversation and started a conversation with her to encourage her. he told her that she was part of the family whether she wanted to or not, and people wanted to talk to her (she teared up).

sometimes, when libby gets anxious about speaking, nash will put his hand on her thigh and hype her up.

at first, grayson was so happy to have these dinners and be surrounded with people that love him that he would start to tear up in bed at night. over time, he started to accept that these people would always be in his life and stopped crying at night.

if anyone has requests, feel free to leave them! hope you guys like these <3. also here's a little seating plan i made for fun :) when lyra joins someday, she sits between gray and rebecca.

#the inheritance games #the hawthorne legacy #the final gambit #the brothers hawthorne #averyjameson #avery grambs #jameson hawthorne #grayson hawthorne #nash hawthorne #xander hawthorne #libby grambs #libbynash #rebecca x thea #rebecca laughlin #thea calligaris #maxine liu #maxander #alisa ortega

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molly-ghuleh · 8 months

Note

Could you do headcanons for all the Papas(or at least Secondo, Terzo, and Copia) and how they would react to a reader that has A LOT of stuffed animals. And I really mean a lot 😅 As in I've got probably over 100 of all different types and brands. Preferably gender neutral reader too cuz I'm transmasc! Thank you 💕

THANK YOU FOR THIS!!! I still sleep with a stuffed animal so I understand :') Thank you for the request!

Primo

Primo has been around the block, and has seen many things

Your collection of stuffed animals is nothing strange to him. In fact he finds it rather adorable.

He understands that it's a comfort thing for you and will make sure to have room for your collection if you decide to live with him

If you sleep with some (or all) of them he'll buy a bigger bed if you need

If you like to keep them on display instead, he'll clear up a space dedicated solely for them in his bedroom

With your permission he'll choose his favorite from your collection and keep it in his office. It reminds him of you during long days of work

Knows which stuffed animals you prefer depending on your mood and will set them up on your shared bed accordingly

If you like to hold some while the two of you cuddle, he'll include them in a little cuddle pile

Don't tell his brothers but he'll call you his teddy bear

Overall just extremely soft and accepting of your collection. Your honor I love Peemo

Secondo

Honestly? He's pretty confused at first.

Aren't stuffed animals supposed to be for babies and children?

You can tell he wants to understand though, so you calmly sit him down and explain why you keep your collection

He apologizes for insinuating that keeping stuffed animals is childlike, he didn't understand (you forgive him)

The first time you spend the night in his bed (which is already a rare occurrence for him, the man is emotionally constipated) he makes sure to hold you AND your stuffed animal(s)

If you wake up before him, he'll grab the stuffed animal you left in the bed and cuddle it while he keeps sleeping

THIS FACT DOES NOT LEAVE HIS CHAMBERS.

After a while he gets used to having you in his arms, and accepts that you come with your stuffed animals

You're hesitant to move into his chambers with him because how are you supposed to bring your collection into his carefully curated aesthetic?

But he reassures you that he'll gladly find a place for them if it makes you happy, you're more important than any of his material things

You've shown him that self-comfort is normal and healthy

He doesn't care that his brothers tease him about growing softer for you. He's happy and you're happy and that's all that matters.

Terzo

Terzo is immediately so accepting that it makes you a little teary.

He makes you question why you would even be nervous to tell him about your collection in the first place

Asks you to introduce him to each and every one

Even if they don't have names, he still wants to learn about the significance of them to you. When did you get them? Why did you choose this one? Which is your favorite?

Immediately declares that the smallest one is his little friend.

Carries it around in his pocket all day (with your permission) because he likes to be reminded of you when you're both busy.

Like Primo, he'll buy a bigger bed if you like to keep them in bed with you as you sleep

WILL buy the most expensive and roomy display case for them if you choose to keep them on display

If you and Terzo get intimate, he'll drape a blanket over your stuffed animals so the two of you 'don't ruin their innocence'

He's the type to try and cheer you up by giving them voices when you're sad. Each one has a different voice

(It always works. You always end up feeling better)

He still comforts you himself, he just knows that your stuffed animals are an extra comfort to you when you need them

Has no qualms about adding to your collection himself if he sees a stuffed animal that he knows you'd like

Copia

Hear me out. I feel like Copia has a few stuffed animals of his own

He'd seen a cute little rat plushie while away on tour once and bought it because how could he not?

He still has the stuffed rabbit from when he was a child

Copia is extremely sentimental in that regard

So when you nervously tell him about your collection, his face lights up because hey! He has some too!

Like Terzo, he'll ask you to introduce them all to him and asks about where and when you got them

If they don't have names, they do now. Copia will name them all and memorize each one.

Bonus points if you have rat or mouse plushies. He'll scratch them on the ears like they're real living pets

When you move into his chambers he'll create a special space for both of your collections together

Puts his stuffed rat and your favorite stuffed animal together and insists they're in love

It's part of your nightly routine for the two of you to choose a stuffed animal to spend the night in the bed

Copia is the type to panic slightly when you're upset or anxious

So he grabs as many stuffed animals as he can and piles them up around you for maximum comfort

And then he wraps his arms around you and your hundreds of plushies because he knows you need him, too.

Finds it hard to sleep without at least one stuffed animal now.

If either of you are away and have to spend the night apart, you're sure to pack the other's favorite one so you carry a piece of one another everywhere

#dantesunbreaker #the band ghost #ghost band #ghost bc #copia #secondo #primo #terzo #ghost headcanons #ghost band headcanons #ghost bc headcanons #primo x reader #secondo x reader #terzo x reader #copia x reader #papa emeritus x reader

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russellsppttemplates · 10 months

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We're in this together, mon amour (Pierre Gasly)

There are times harder than others, but Pierre is making sure he's always there for his wife

Note: english is not my first language. this is my long piece in ehat feels like a lifetime, I hope I can still do it well enough, and, like usual, I like to say this to make it clear: this request is special because this is a topic that I feel huge responsibility writing about and I feel grateful that I'm trusted enough to have it be requested (and you don't need to feel anxious or scared to submit things like this, this is not a learning platform necessarily, nor I am a teacher, but I'm more than happy to write about these things and materialise some ideas you have). As I've said before, I hate the whole idea of labelling, but I also know and understand how important it is to see some of you and your characteristics portrayed in a character.

I'm very happy and proud of you for making progress about it too ✨️🤍

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated, and I'm slowly trying to get back to taking requests, and I am writing some blurbs when I can, so if you have any ideas or concepts that can be written in a small amount of sentences and you want to share, feel free to do so!

Tw: mentions mental health issues (anxiety symptoms, self-doubt), going to therapy, family issues

You arrived home after another day at work, hoping that you could put this week behind you and go into the weekend to relax. You could count on one hand the moments this week where you didn't feel completely on edge. Work was going through a busy time and despite being very happy that the company was growing and your work was being valued, it did pile up with everything else. And could you really complain about your home life? You had a supportive husband, way more supportive than you feel like you deserve and with everything else happening, it just created all these thoughts that would not leave your mind, no matter how much you tried and insisted they would leave.

Maybe a shower would help, you thought, going upstairs to the ensuite and grabbing your favourite products in hopes they would make you feel better. You stripped out of your work clothes and placed them in the hamper, putting some music on your phone so you could have something else occupying your mind when you noticed a message from your husband, saying he would be home later than expected since the sponsor meeting had evolved to a drinks and food situation, apologising for the sudden change of plans with an I love you in the end.

Walking inside the cabin, the water distracted you for about two minutes before everything came back up, thoughts of how you could be the wife to be there with him, supporting him while in big crowds, not needing to take a few moments away because it was getting too much. And maybe how he could do so much better, how he could easily have someone to do that for him without any trouble, and yet he chose you to spend the rest of his life with. And the feeling that settles in your chest makes it harder for you to breathe, harder for you to think and distract yourself so you push your back against the cold wall, the feeling so shocking to your senses that it just about got you back to yourself so you could wash your hair and body and get out.

You were in the bedroom, putting your pyjamas on when you heard Pierre's footsteps going up the stairs, "Amour, are you in the bedroom? I was wondering if you wanted to go and grab something to eat", he said before he entered the bedroom, "Oh, pyjamas already?", he asked in a neutral tone, but to you, it was the last straw. Tears started falling down and your legs started to shake as you tried your best to calm down, Pierre already kneeled in front of you, "hey, amour, hey, what's wrong?", he made you look at him, "breathe with me", he instructed, "there you go, you can talk whenever you want to", he offered as soon as you seemed to calm down, "but I will need you to tell me what's going on", he said before getting up only to sit next to you on the bed.

"I've been feeling a lot of things recently, and they're not very good", you began, "and I know I should've told you, but I don't want to bother you", and Pierre tapped your hand twice, something he had been doing for a while whenever he wanted you to know he had something to say whenever you were talking, "you will never be a bother, Y/N, you can tell me how you're feeling", he brushed some hairs out of your forehead.

Sighing, you looked up at the ceiling before speaking, "Sometimes I feel like I'm too much for you, I'm either too much work, too much drama...and I get scared one day I'll be too much for you to handle, I'm sorry I'm like this", you shared. It had always been there, a small impostor's syndrome almost where you didn't feel like you could even compare to the another drivers' partners, but recently it had all become a bit more obvious in your eyes. Your wedding had been full on Pierre's side, whilst your side was a lot smaller, consisting mainly of friends and some family members who you still had a good relationship with, everyone seemed to be wondering when you'd have a little one when there were days you felt you could barely care for yourself, people often commented and you were and when you weren't in the paddock, whatever attendance trend not satisfying their curiosity.

Pierre gulped. You had never shared this with him, not with this much emphasis. Anytime you'd feel a little more insecure, he would shower you with love, and he thought it had been enough.

"None of that is true, my love", he began, "I can assure you that. I love you no matter what", he stated, "You'll never be too much for me", Pierre assured you as he held your hand in his, making sure you kept looking at him, "there's nothing in this world than I won't do for you to make sure you feel good and well", he noted, "I- I didn't know you felt like this, I'm sorry for not noticing it".

You looked at him, seeing the hurt in his eyes, "I didn't mean to hurt you. See? This is what I mean, everything is taking a toll, now you're not feeling good about it, and it's all my fault", you took a deep breath, "hey, amour. You don't have to feel guilty about his, okay? Above anything else, I want you to be okay, so we can be okay, too. You just have to let me know", he said as he managed to hold your gaze in his, "I was thinking the other day, maybe I should go back to therapy. I stopped because I felt really good but maybe it's time to go back", you said.

Softly rubbing your cheek, Pierre spoke first, "if you think that will help, mon amour, we'll go just now, I would take you if I could right now", he said, bringing a small smile to your face, "I'll be by your side through it all, amour".

"Do you want me to pick you up after your appointment?", Pierre asked, looking at the calendar you had on your home office's wall, "Oh yes, that would be good actually. The mechanic said my car wouldn't be ready until the day after tomorrow", you smiled before closing a file you were working on.

"I actually wanted to talk to you about something", he began, grabbing your attention, continuing once you nodded, "I've been wondering about other ways to help you, and I was wondering, with you permission of course, if I could talk to your therapist. Not to know what you discuss in the sessions, but rather to know more about the whole thing. Like, how I can help you and know all the signs and things. This with your permission, of course", he said. You gave it a thought, "I'm okay with it. I know my psychologist won't break the ethical code. But do you want to do that?", you wondered, "I want to know more of how I can help you. I want you to be as comfortable and happy as possible, and while I know a few things, there are more things that maybe she can tell me. I want to be able to help you to the best of my abilities", he said as he cradled your cheek, "but only if you're okay with it", he reiterated. Smiling at him, with small happy tears in your eyes, you mimicked his stance with your own hands, thumbs rubbing his stubbly cheek, "I love you, so much. Thank you for always being here for me", you said before allowing your arms to change position and hug your husband, arms circling his body, "you and me until the end, ma belle".

"There were some difficult questions today", you said to Pierre over the phone, "but I'm getting better at talking about it", you said, watching his face in the videocall, "I'm so proud of you, mon amour", he said, "It's nothing really, that's just-", you were interrupted by him, "it is big, and even if it was a small thing, you're working on it", he smiled.

"You've been a really big part, too", you winked, "I'm just making sure my wife knows the truth, that she is worth everything, that she is capable of anything, and most importantly, I try everyday to make you feel the happiness and love you deserve", he smiled.

"Do you still want to go for dinner tonight?", Pierre asked as he adjusted the sleeves on his shirt, having noticed you had been particularly quiet since getting home from work, "do you mind if we stay in tonight? I know you were really excited, and I was really excited too but work was too much today, and a lot of people were talking and I-", you were interrupted by your husband, "you don't have to explain yourself if you don't want to, mon amour. Was it something I did that I can make better?", he asked as you shook your head no, "was it something you had total control over?", he asked again, "no, I couldn't do more than take a few breaks and distract myself when I felt overwhelmed", you said as you saw him smile, "exactly. So we can control this now, and we can stay in. Do you want to make food together or order in?".

"Are you feeling okay? We can leave early if you want to", Pierre whispered in your ear as you walked to the table in the restaurant the team had rented out to celebrate the recent positive results, "I'm okay, so far so good", you smiled at his attentiveness, kissing his hand that was laced with yours as you sat down and greeted everyone at the table.

Pierre came back from using the bathroom when he noticed you weren't inside the room anymore, going up to where you were sitting and asking for you, "Y/N took Maisie outside, we are discussing some things for the next meeting and she took her outside with her to see the stars", Elise from the engineering team said before Pierre made his way to the outside garden of the restaurant, wanting to know where and how you were.

"Oh, there you are, Y/N", he said, looking for any sign of discomfort in your body language, but only finding you comfortable looking up at the stars with the little girl in your arms as she tried to grab them, "She was getting a little bit cranky, bless her", you explained, seeing the worried creases on his forehead soften, "so I thought we could come outside and see the stars and the moon while the adults talked about boring engineering things", you smiled as Maisie seemed to pay attention to your husband now, "are you looking at Pierre? He's very handsome, right?", you tapped her nose and she let out a delicious giggle, earning giggles from both of you in return.

"I thought you might have not felt good inside, I was worried for a second there", Pierre explained, "I was fine, everyone was lovely as usual, but she was getting a bit restless and Elise and Tom couldn't keep her entertained, so I said I could take her if they'd like", you said as you felt Maisie cuddle into your chest, her hands grasping the material of your shirt, "and she's really fighting sleep, aren't you, little monkey?", you said as you softly stroked her cheek, "you need to sleep, little one", Pierre offered as he started walking, hoping that the steady movement would help her fall asleep easily.

"I'm very proud of you", Pierre began talking, "I can only imagine how hard things still can be for you, but you work everyday to get better at it and to be better, and that makes me so happy and proud of you", he said as he circled his arm around your waist and kissed the side of your head, mindulf of the little girl who whose eyes were becoming droopier by the minute, "thank you, you know I would've not done it without you", you looked at him, "a lot of it comes down to me, I know, but having you there makes it easier", you finished, puckering your lips so he could kiss them, "we're in this together, mon amour", he offered before a snore was heard, the both of you cooing at the sight of Maisie asleep, leaving you to think once again about kids. It had been going on for a while, especially now that you felt a lot more in control and like you could deal better with your day to day thoughts. "Hey, my love, I've been thinking about something lately, and you obviously have a say in this, but I've been thinking about one of our own", you voiced your thoughts, knowing that your relationship was an open and comfortable place for you to share them without any judgement from your husband, "I know there's still some work to do, and quite frankly there will always be, but I've been thinking about it and it doesn't scare me like it did before, I actually look forward to every moment", you finished your ramble, looking for any sign of disagreement in Pierre's face, finding only a big smile, "whenever you are ready, mon amour, you just let me know and we can start practicing for a little Gasly", he laughed, squeezing your body against is, "seeing you with a baby on your arms is making me absolutely ready", he whispered in your ear, "hey, small ears are within hearing capacity!", you suddenly felt shy, "what? I'm promising her a little friend to play with in the paddock next year!".

#pierre gasly imagine #pierre gasly × reader #pierre gasly fluff #pierre gasly fic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic

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tedelunazz · 1 year

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the ballad of the songbirds and snakes, dan heng

synopsis: sorry my love, if this hurt you, i wanted to die of love but it didn't come out.

warnings: I hope you like it, it's my first writing for honkai star rail.

It was night, too night on the Astral Express and currently only Dan Heng was in the main area of the Express. March, Stelle and everyone else had already gone to sleep but he couldn't, he had to finish what he had been putting off for so long.

Write his entry in the book.

It was an idea he didn't like and it made him feel an extremely bitter feeling in his chest, to write about him, his past and why he came to the Express. He didn't like to think about it, he didn't like to remember what he experienced before he joined this train.

He doesn't like to think about Blade, let alone you, he didn't hate you but the memory of what happened made his stomach knot. He still remembers the first time he tried to talk about you with March, he ended up crying as soon as he said your name and from then on he never tried to talk about it with anyone else ever again. It is an extremely painful memory for him and every time he thought that you were now wandering around with Blade, it increased that feeling of bitterness.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, clenching the ink pen he held between his fingers, the moment he closed his eyes his head filled with memories of you and him.

"Someday I'll make you a song, even if I don't love you yet, I promise I'll learn to do both!"

That day you said those words so convincingly, with a smile as warm as sunlight and even forced him to make the pinky finger promise. After that day, you went everywhere with a little notebook and a pencil, Dan Heng remembers you looked so cute when you were writing in that notebook.

He remembers that you started to spend more and more time together, you went out and came back, he sometimes brought you little gifts that he collected. You made tea instead, bitter and strong tea, you said it was because you never liked fruity or mild spicy flavors. You really spent a lot of time together, when he had nothing to do or when you were not busy, you were always together.

You would be seen walking around, other times you would be seen having tea in a place a bit far away or sometimes you would just sleep in each other's company.

But in spite of that, in spite of all that it seems that it wasn't enough and that nothing mattered, it seems that at the end of it all, you never learned to love him as you had promised that day.

One day everything simply failed, everything got out of control and everything went wrong, everything collapsed so fast with no apparent solution. That day, that day all this happened, when Dan Heng lost everything, you clearly remember the last words you said to him: "Sorry my love, if this hurt you, I wanted to die of love but it didn't come out."

You said those words with a smile before disappearing, as if you never existed.

And of course that left him deeply hurt, everyone that day made mistakes that will haunt them to this day, of course Dan Heng doesn't forget what he did that day but on the other hand he still can't forget you, I can't forget the great pain he felt when you hinted to him that despite all the time they spent together, you couldn't love him even a little bit.

It was just painful.

"Why do you have that look on your face?"

Dan Heng slowly opened his eyes and saw Himeko in the distance, who was slowly approaching sitting next to him.

"I see, you're writing your entry in the book."

Were Himeko's words when she saw the heavy book and pen Dan Heng had next to him.

"She was the middle ground between the greatest love I've ever had and the deepest pain I've ever felt."

After a long time, Dan Heng allowed himself to cry, even though he was ashamed to do so in front of Himeko he allowed himself to do it

#dan heng #honkai star rail #fanfiction #dan heng x reader #dan heng x you #blade #hsr kafka #blade hsr #himeko #dan heng fanfiction #angst #honkai star rail x reader

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copperbadge · 1 year

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Hi, I have started a new office job! It's good, I like the people I work with and the work itself but it's sooo different from what I'm used to? I don't always feel I have enough to do, which is partly b/c of the time of year and cause I'm still new, only 30 days, but is this normal-ish? I am trying to be self directed and going thru my responsibilities but somedays, there's just not a lot? Have you ever found that in any of your jobs?

Yeah, a lot of office jobs are like this -- mine have almost all had a great deal of empty space in them. It's not universal for sure, but it's not at all unusual. The only time I've had an office job where I really didn't have any time free during the average week was right at the end of my last job when we were heavily downstaffed and I was doing about three peoples' worth of jobs. Even then, my schedule had some flex to it.

Especially as a newbie you're going to have a lot of downtime because people are giving you time to settle in, or they're trying to work out what they can assign to you, or they're waiting until you're fully trained to start assigning you more responsibility. And you may have less work at this time of year because a lot of people are out of office or for other reasons (this is actually a busy time for me and my crew, because we get a lot of end-of-year donations, but a ton of nonprofit work is backwards to the rhythms of normal for-profit office work).

I recommend never, ever telling anyone at work that you are not busy, however. For one, most people in any given office know that we aren't working at 100% for 100% of the time, because if we were we'd all be exhausted. Two, it means you'll be given more work. :D Which, okay, some of that is "Why work when you don't have to" but some of it is also that it is GOOD to have slack built into your schedule. It means you can ramp up when needed, and also that you get periods of brain rest, and also that you have time to work on independent projects should you wish, whether those are for work or, say, fanfic. I actually at this point tend to lower expectations by waiting to submit work -- I'll finish a project a day early and submit it the day it's due regardless.

In one job, I had to process documents being converted from PDF to Word, then pass them on to our proofer; he could only proof about four documents a day, but I could process about 20. So on Monday I'd process all 20 documents, and send him four of them -- and the rest of the week I'd send him four a day, and write fanfic for hours on end. Occasionally they gave me other jobs to do, but at that job I was essentially paid full time to work one day a week and show up to do nothing the other four.

The average office worker only works four hours a day. In some jobs I've literally booked out those four hours and fucked around the rest of the time. When I needed to, I'd break into Fuck Around Time in order to do more work, but otherwise -- they're paying me for results, not for sweat. As a front-desk receptionist it was baked in, actually; they said to me "There's going to be long periods of time where you are doing nothing. Your job at those times is to entertain yourself in ways that don't make it look like you're goofing off if someone important walks in." I wrote a lot of fanfic and novels, read a lot of books, did a shitload of origami. I loved that job; if it paid better I probably never would have left it.

Eventually, too, you will learn the rhythms of your job and workplace, and figure out when you're most likely to have empty time, so that you can build around it. For instance, on Fridays I get a data document that I have to evaluate and present to my colleagues the following Wednesday. Friday and Monday are therefore my busy days; Tuesday and Wednesday are for work I might have put off during the busy days. Thursday is generally just an open day; I can do long-term work projects, or I can spend the whole day dicking around. If a rush job comes in, I can push work into Thursday to get the rush job done, regardless of when it arrives.

In any case, you have a couple of options for continuing to look busy even when you aren't. If you can read on a computer screen, queue up some books or fanfic (be careful what you access on company internet, of course; I have more free range than most and am not monitored because my job is researched-based and I have to go to some weird shit places). Read newspapers you might have access to, or work on your own writing/creative endeavors on cloud-based apps. A couple of times a year I'd dedicate the empty space in a week to going through old files and organizing them, or cleaning out my email inboxes.

You can also, if you desire, work on independent projects for your actual employer. In my spare time I've built several tools to make my life easier, some of which I've shown to my bosses to impress them. Some just make my work go faster and my bosses don't know that, and don't have to. Again: they are paying for results, not for me to sit there like a booby doing work I don't have to do. If there are ways to streamline processes, you can use the time to think about implementing them (although ask other people they may impact, first). The other day I was giving a mailing list one last scroll-through before sending it to my boss, and idly realized there was a fantastic opportunity to do a little data visualization, so I whipped that up and added it to the email I was sending, like "Hey I also noticed this, see what you think."

For a while, in my last job, I had enough lee time in my schedule that most days I could work my second job as a transcriptionist while at my primary job. That can get perilous and I don't recommend it, but it can be done...

Anyway, be at ease, this is supposed to be the case and it's a great bonus when it actually does happen :D Do your work competently and efficiently and don't worry too much about the empty spots, just take breaks and keep yourself entertained.

#sam works #office work

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ctitan98official · 3 months

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Anonymous: Heyyy.... So I've just read your Donna adopts toddler Y/N story. I'm actually in tears lmao It actually made me want Donna as a mom instead of a lover lol Also I was wondering if you could write something like Y/N getting older (maybe like a teenager) with Donna as their mom

Aww thank you! It’s beautiful to know that I’ve moved you like that. I love this idea! Link to the first part here! Let’s get into it!

You had lived with Donna, Angie and the dolls for most of your life. They were your family and they meant everything to you.

Your mom was so kind and giving. She did everything she could to make you feel loved.

When you were sick, she would feed you delicious soups, hold you and gently rock you, and soothe your fevers with a wet washcloth. She also sang beautiful Italian folk songs to help calm you in your delirium. Her voice always comforted you the most.

She also taught you a lot about cooking and some of your favorite memories with her were in the kitchen.

You were her designated taste-tester which gave you so much pride when you were little. You felt like you were performing such an honorable role, but it was really just an excuse for her to spend extra time with you.

She also introduced you to her adoptive family. Alcina thought you were adorable and frequently invited you over to the castle for visits.

The Dimitrescu sisters had so much fun teaching you about pranks, (Dani and Cass) and about the arts (Bela).

Miranda and Karl taught you about science and math. They were so proud when you learned something new.

Miranda ended up being a very doting grandma and would often spoil you a little too much.

Sal taught you about fishing and film history. You two grew very close and still have regular movie nights together.

As amazing as your extended family is, though, you always enjoyed coming home to your mom.

Angie was like a crazy aunt who let you do things that Donna said were off limits.

When Donna was busy working on new dolls, she would have Angie watch you. However, when she came back to check on the two of you one day after she had finished her project, she found you both superglued together and laughing crazily… Angie was no longer a trusted babysitter. That’s where Alcina really came in handy.

Donna also taught you Italian. It was like a secret language between the two of you and it made you feel even closer to her than you already did.

As you got older, you began to help Donna by fixing things around the house and doing yard work. Donna really appreciated your assistance because she did not have any clue about how to get started on house work of that magnitude.

She would tell you how thankful she was for you and cook you anything you wanted that night as a reward.

Donna was there for you when you developed your first crush on a girl from the village, Elena Lupu, too.

“Hey… Mama?” You asked her nervously one evening.

“Hmm? What is it, tesoro? Is something wrong?” She asked you, concerned. She came over and looked you over to make sure you weren’t hurt.

You blushed and just spilled your secret. “So… There’s this girl I like…” You began.

Donna smiled knowingly. “Yes?” She prompted.

“I was wondering… Do you have any advice on what I should do?”

Donna gave you one of her famous mom hugs. She was an excellent cuddler. “My little Y/N is growing up.” She said. She pinched your cheek which made you laugh, before she led you over to the couch to talk.

Angie started making fun of you, but Donna banished her upstairs.

Donna made you nice clothes and taught you how to style your hair. She said you looked perfect in anything, but she wanted you to be as confident as possible.

Sal and Karl tried to give you dating advice as well, but they weren’t much help.

“All you gotta do is be really mean. Women like that, you know?” Karl told you while you both went fishing with Sal one afternoon.

“That’s horrible, Karl!” Sal admonished him.

“What do you think I should do, Uncle Sal? Any tips for me?” You asked.

Sal furrowed a brow. “Well, Y/N… In the movies, the hero always gets the girl. But then again, they also tend to like rebels… Do you have a leather jacket?? Ooh! Let’s watch Grease when we get back!”

When you told Donna what Karl and Sal had suggested, she scoffed. “Don’t listen to your Uncle Karl, tesoro. He’s an emotionally stunted man-baby.” She said, annoyed. You couldn’t help but laugh at Donna’s insult. She definitely had a fiery Italian side.

“As for your Uncle Sal… He’s a hopeless romantic.” She said. “Just be yourself, Y/N. That’s all you need to do… Oh! But, make sure to speak a bit of Italian. It really is a beautiful language. Elena will swoon.” She smiled and kissed your cheek.

Donna’s advice made all the difference. You were honest and you told Elena how you felt. The two of you started dating pretty quickly.

(Yes, the Italian did wonders too. Donna was so proud.)

Eventually, after you and Elena had been dating for a long time, you decided to get married.

Donna gave you her mother’s ring to propose with. She smiled with tears in her eyes at how you had grown. “Remember, Y/N. No matter what, you will always be my baby. I love you.” She promised and gave you a tender hug.

Donna was a bawling mess at the wedding too… As was the rest of your family. Mother Miranda officiated and kept having to stop because she was about to choke up.

You had a special parent-child dance at the reception with Donna. It was one of your favorite parts of the wedding.

“Y/N, you have been the best part of my life. I love you and am so proud of you.” She said.

You typically didn’t get misty-eyed, but that made you want to cry like a baby. It meant everything that Donna was proud of you.

“I love you, Mama.” You told her and kissed her on the head.

Donna smiled back at you and cupped your face. “Mama loves you, Y/N.”

She was the best mom you could have asked for.

Note: So soft, I love Donna! I ended the last bit of dialogue between Donna and Y/N like I did in the first head canon to bring it full circle T^T Wahhh! I am absolutely loving these types of head canons.

Masterlist

#donna beneviento #re8 #re8 village #donna beneviento x reader #donna beneviento x y/n #angie beneviento #resident evil village #resident evil imagines #resident evil 8 #resident evil #re8 shitpost #re8 incorrect quotes

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faulty-writes · 2 years

Note

Hello! If requests are still open, may I please request headcanons for Sero and Shoji with a very jealous, clingy, insecure fem s/o who's that way because her ex partner cheated on her ? Ignore Shoji if you don't write about him. Thank you 💗

[ I've never written Mezo Shoji actually, at least not from what I can recall. But anything is worth a try. ]

The first time he used his quirk on you was when you interrupted a conversation he was having with Ashido. You hated seeing how she made your boyfriend smile and laugh and had to put an end to it. But grabbing Hanta's arm while hissing out multiple threats wasn't the best idea and resulted in him taping your mouth shut.

He let most incidents slide thinking that jealousy was normal in a relationship, but noticing how clingy and worried you'd become when he wasn't around or talking to others concerned him. After a little investigating, he found out about your past relationship and how poorly you were treated.

"I promise, we can kiss and cuddle all you want later but...principal Nezu is coming!" you knew there were certain rules regarding relationships and dating at Yuuei, but this never stopped you from trying to show how you felt during school hours. Hanta on the other hand didn't want to get in trouble.

When you weren't in school, you were always by Hanta's side and on the rare chance you weren't you were texting him constantly. Many of your classmates and friends had tried to distract you or outright told you that you shouldn't be so clingy. But, you brushed their words off. After all, what did they know?

From time to time, you'd let your paranoid thoughts get the best of you and would ask or rather accuse Hanta of cheating on you. He noticed this usually happened when he was too busy to spend time with you. "Why would I do that? What we have is pretty great, don't you think babe?" he'd always try to reassure you somehow, but it didn't always work.

After you had gotten into a fight with someone else who was spending more time than you would have liked with your boyfriend, Hanta revealed that he knew you were cheated on in the past. "I know it's going to take a while, but we can work on your insecurities together, and just know that as long as I'm a hero, I'll never give up on you or us," he promised.

Mezo always put you first, especially when you began your relationship with him and he learned how poorly your ex had treated you. He thought it unforgivable for anyone to hurt or betray you, and silently promised he'd right the wrongs that had been done to you.

You knew that having a "hero" for a boyfriend would be difficult but you didn't realize how jealous you'd be when you witnessed him saving others and how they'd praise, touch, or flirt with him. But, you also didn't hesitate to walk over and bluntly state that Mezo was yours.

He noticed that at times, you'd go through extreme measures to be by his side. Like when you purposely applied at the same agency as him for your student internship. "You know, I'd be acting the same even if you weren't here," he told you. At the same time, he didn't mind the way you clung to him during patrols.

At times, you'd try to practice self-discipline. Instead of acting on your jealousy and insecurity, you'd hold it in. This usually resulted in you becoming a crying mess and Mezo having to comfort you. "Do you really think anyone else would want to date someone who scares children with his face?" you had to admit, it was nice knowing that you were the rare type that saw past his facial features.

On some days, you felt overly clingy and didn't want to separate yourself from Mezo. He would usually accommodate you by carrying you on his back with his tentacles surrounding you as a precaution. "Your weight feels nice on my back..." he'd comment, but he also found your overall presence to be comforting.

When your one-year anniversary came, Mezo decided to surprise you with a promise ring. "Just in case you need proof that I won't disrespect or cheat on you. That I wouldn't do anything to lose you," he said, slipping the piece of jewelry onto your finger with ease.

#hanta x reader #sero x reader #sero x you #sero x y/n #mezo x reader #shoji x reader #shoji x you #bnha x reader #bnha x you #bnha x y/n #faulty writes: hanta sero #faulty writes: hanta sero: headcanons #faulty writes: mezo shoji #faulty writes: mezo shoji: headcanons

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fazfacts · 8 months

Text

HALLOWEEN-THEMED FNAF STARTERS!

feel free to change these as needed!

🎃 SONGS 🎃

HALLOWEEN AT FREDDY'S

❝ It's Halloween at [__]! ❞

❝ All the guests have arrived. ❞

❝ Everyone's dying to meet you. ❞

❝ Won't you spend the night? ❞

❝ Join us. ❞

❝ There's no time to waste. ❞

❝ I hope you're ready. ❞

❝ Let's cut to the chase. ❞

❝ Don't trust a word they say. ❞

❝ Please try not to cry. ❞

❝ If he says "follow me," you'll never come back. ❞

❝ That's our kind of treat. ❞

❝ Doesn't that sound great? ❞

❝ New friends always run away. ❞

❝ All we want to do is play. ❞

❝ Won't you be the one to stay? ❞

❝ Take [their] ice cream and you will scream. ❞

❝ If you listened carefully, you might get out alive. ❞

COUNT THE WAYS

❝ I'll cut you into little bitty pieces! ❞

❝ I'm here to realize your wish from what I'm told. ❞

❝ You are trapped in here to play. ❞

❝ Either way, you'll end up choosing what I say. ❞

❝ Make your choice. ❞

❝ Let's have some fun. ❞

❝ Let me tell you all the things that I can do. ❞

❝ Now, let's get talking. ❞

❝ Electrocution seems enticing! ❞

❝ Electrocution seems enticing, but so is freezing in the cold! ❞

❝ Silly [__], why remorse? ❞

❝ Just let nature take its course. ❞

DREADED CROWN

❝ Alert the nation. ❞

❝ Keep it to yourselves. ❞

❝ This here's a warning to make the right choice. ❞

❝ [Their] intention is to destroy. ❞

❝ Don't be fooled. ❞

❝ Pick a fight and don't back down. ❞

❝ Not a single word. ❞

THE CURSE

❝ Who brought this curse upon my life? ❞

❝ I get so stuck inside my head. ❞

❝ I'm never getting out. ❞

❝ I'm never getting out alive. ❞

❝ I never learn. ❞

❝ Did [__] carve this pumpkin? ❞

❝ Where'd [they] put the knife? ❞

❝ Will this room be my coffin? ❞

❝ The power is out. ❞

❝ Fear comes with a cost. ❞

❝ Over and over and over, I watch. ❞

TEMPERATURE

❝ I've got tricks up my sleeve. ❞

❝ It's not a night you're gonna wanna leave. ❞

❝ [We] just wanna leave. ❞

❝ Keep your eyes swift. ❞

❝ I stand between you and your plan. ❞

❝ Your final days are grim. ❞

❝ Killing you's my favorite kind of sin. ❞

❝ I'm gonna burn it all down. ❞

❝ I'll burn this whole place down. ❞

❝ I've got my eye on you. ❞

❝ I'm a nightmare. ❞

❝ I never play fair. ❞

❝ I just wanna burn you alive. ❞

❝ Never double-cross me. ❞

❝ Hope you're not afraid of the dark. ❞

🎃 DIALOGUE 🎃

FNAF 4 // HALLOWEEN DLC

❝ What did [they] do this time? ❞

❝ Don't be scared. I am here with you. ❞

❝ [They] won't stop until you find [them]. ❞

❝ Tomorrow is another day. ❞

❝ Too bad! ❞

❝ [They] left without you. ❞

❝ You are right beside the exit. If you run, you can make it. ❞

❝ If you run, you can make it. ❞

❝ It's too late. ❞

❝ You know what will happen if [they] catch you! ❞

❝ You have to be strong. ❞

❝ [They] hate you. ❞

❝ NO! Don't you remember what you saw? ❞

❝ No one else is scared! Why are you? ❞

❝ Stop being such a baby! ❞

❝ Are you going to the party? ❞

❝ Be careful. ❞

❝ Please let me out. ❞

❝ Can you hear me? ❞

❝ ...I'm sorry. ❞

❝ We are still your friends. ❞

❝ Do you still believe that? ❞

❝ We are still your friends. Do you still believe that? ❞

❝ I will put you back together. ❞

FNAF WORLD // UPDATE 2

❝ It wasn't supposed to be like this. Now it's all a mess. ❞

❝ Now there is only one thing to do. ❞

❝ I'm impressed. ❞

❝ What are you doing here? Can't you see that I'm busy? ❞

❝ I didn't know what else to do. ❞

❝ I don't want to disappoint people. ❞

❝ My mind isn't right. ❞

❝ I've made something terrible. ❞

❝ I'm sorry. ❞

❝ Welcome back! I hope you are ready for even more adventure! ❞

❝ Look, is it okay if we just cut the crap here? ❞

❝ What are you even doing here? ❞

❝ I've already put in my application at the Fazburger down the street. ❞

❝ Go find yourself a nice indie horror game. Get some hot chocolate. I don't care. ❞

❝ Get lost. ❞

❝ Let's start with something simple! ❞

❝ I have faith in you! ❞

❝ You can do it! ❞

❝ Aww, don't give up! ❞

❝ You'll get it eventually. ❞

❝ Is this your first time playing a video game? ❞

❝ Keep up the good work, sport! ❞

❝ Awww! It's so cute when kids try to play games! ❞

❝ Wow! What a moron. ❞

❝ You suck! ❞

❝ You still suck! ❞

❝ Aww, I'm laughing at you, not with you. ❞

❝ Um, learn to play? ❞

❝ Ha! Poser! ❞

❝ Get some skills and call me in the morning. ❞

❝ Dumbass. ❞

❝ I'm losing patience with you! ❞

❝ This is your last chance! ❞

❝ I'm gonna kill you!! ❞

❝ Didn't your mommy ever tell you that you can't kill a rainbow? ❞

❝ The next time you see a rainbow in the sky, that is ME, coming to your house! ❞

❝ What's this, a space shooter? ❞

❝ Holy crap! Is that my voice!? ❞

❝ Sorry I'm late for the party. Fashionably late, of course! ❞

❝ Do a barrel roll! ...Sorry, I'm not sure what came over me. ❞

❝ You won't get tired of my voice, will you? ❞

❝ At least I went down in a blaze of glory! ❞

❝ You haven't seen the last of me! ❞

❝ ...Well, actually, yes, this is the last you'll see of me. ❞

FNAF VR // CURSE OF DREADBEAR

❝ Now, let's get to work. ❞

❝ Well done. ❞

❝ Let's see how you did. ❞

❝ Perhaps the instructions were not clear. ❞

❝ Perhaps you should seek employment elsewhere. ❞

❝ Good enough. ❞

❝ Animatronic engineering is just that simple. ❞

❝ The real treasure was friendship all along! ❞

❝ Happy birthday! ❞

❝ Today we are using science to pervert the mysteries of life and re-animate the inanimate. ❞

❝ It's customary to give a melodramatic speech. ❞

❝ Go on, I'll wait. ❞

❝ I made it myself. ❞

❝ No one suspects anything. ❞

❝ Don't worry, I'll be ready, and I won't let you down. ❞

❝ It will be fun. ❞

#fnaf rp memes #rp memes #rp prompts #sentence starters #technically like. half of these are recycled...and the dialogue doesnt change in f.naf 4...but listen #it's all halloween if you have the spirit

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jamespottersmixtape · 8 months

Text

september 16: binge 1,173 words @rosekiller-microfic

It’s their movie night! just rosekiller being in love tbh (ft. Regulus freaking out)

After careful contemplation, in which he heavily weighed the pros and cons of each day of the week, Evan has decided that Saturday is his favourite.

This isn't that surprising—Saturdays are great. No work, no school, no need to wake up early or go to sleep before dawn. Pure unbridled bliss to spend a day however one pleases.

But that isn't why Evan loves them.

No, Evan has become rather fond of Saturdays because for the past year or so since he and Barty started dating, they've made it a goal to host a movie night. Just the two of them.

It started off as a complete accident—Saturday being one of the only days the two were free, unburdened by Evan's university classes and Barty's part-time job. So one night they found themselves sprawled over Evan's couch, watching a movie and eating takeaway because they hadn't felt like leaving the flat. Then the next week found them in a similar position, only at Barty's place, completely by coincidence.

By the third week they realized the pattern and made a truce—every Saturday that they could manage they'd stay at one of their flats, order in, and put on a random movie or show to watch together.

It quickly became a favorite date night for the both of them—choosing to ignore the rest of the world for one night a week and keep each other company. It was more than enough. Soft, tender touches under a blanket and rowdy laughter directed at a particularly shitty movie Barty had picked out. They would always end the night with their limbs tangled together, whether that be on the couch or one of their beds.

Now over a year later Evan still feels the same excitement bubbling in the pit of his stomach as the clock hits 5pm—their official designated start time.

He figures Barty will arrive any minute now and let himself in, so he turns the TV on and grabs some blankets from the closet, setting up the couch as comfortably as he can.

He's in the kitchen looking over menus when he hears the turn of a key and the click of the front door closing. He smiles to himself, soft and hidden, as feet patter across his wooden floors.

A warm presence ghosts along his back as steady arms wrap around his waist. Barty tugs him closer and hooks his chin over Evan's shoulder, pressing a soft kiss to his neck.

"Hi Ev," Barty mumbles; he sounds tired. Evan knows he went home to see his mother today, a visit that usually leaves Barty drained no matter how much he loves her. He tries his hardest not to be so reserved around Evan; he's definitely gotten better with opening up about his home life, but it can be hard.

Evan has learned to be patient.

"Hi baby," he hums, turning his head and capturing Barty's lips in a kiss. It's sweet, chaste.

He turns around fully so he can run his fingers through Barty's hair, cupping his face with his free hand. "How was today? Your mum's well?"

That's another thing they've worked on: communication. Sometimes just a simple How was your day? or a Can we call later? I miss you, makes all the difference when both of them lead such busy lives. The two of them are far from perfect, but they try their best.

Barty shrugs, but smiles nonetheless. "She's good, not very busy these days. Father wasn't home so we went out for coffee," he wrinkles his nose at the thought of his father, and Evan laughs. He can't say he disagrees with the sentiment.

Barty tugs Evan closer where his hands still rest on his waist. "And what'd you do today? Other than wait for me to grace you with my presence, of course."

Evan rolls his eyes. "Actually I was dreading this. I'd much rather go back to studying like I've been doing for the past 6 hours. It's very fun," he loops his arms around Barty's neck, staring up at him with a devilish grin.

"Oh I'm sure," Barty nods along. "I should make my swift exit then, don't wanna take up too much of your time Mr. University."

"Shut up and kiss me, idiot."

Their lips meet again, warm and slow under the yellow lighting of Evan's small kitchen. It's unhurried, no intention other than re-familiarizing themselves with each other. Still, kissing Barty always makes his entire body light up—fireworks or tingles or electricity; whatever you want to call it—and he shivers from head to toe at the feeling.

God, he's painfully in love with this stupid man.

They pull back, Barty's hand never leaving Evan's hip as they go about chattering aimlessly. They choose a restaurant and Evan forces Barty to call in—pizza, even though Barty complains that his mother sent him home with enough Italian food.

They laugh at nothing as they wait for the food, Barty recounting to Evan how Regulus called him at 8pm the previous night to freak out when he found a ring in James' sock drawer.

Honestly Evan's surprised they're not married with two kids yet. They've been dating for ages, and James looks at him like he built the solar system. It's gross—and also about damn time that man proposes.

The food arrives in record time and they make themselves comfortable, Barty laying half of his body weight on Evan's legs. Not that he's complaining.

Barty chooses a show for them to watch tonight—some random sitcom he's been binge watching the past few weeks—and they settle into a comfortable silence, munching on their food.

"Hey, B?" he asks halfway through the second episode; food long gone and plates piled in the sink. He's wrapped in Barty's arms now, a blanket thrown over the both of them.

The chatter on the TV is low enough that he knows Barty heard him, but he doesn't make a move to acknowledge it.

Evan pokes one of his hands. Nothing.

He sighs, long and drawn out. "Baby."

Predictably, Barty turns his head to face Evan. He looks smug, the bastard, and raises a questioning eyebrow.

"Rosie?"

"Ugh, you're horrible. Why do I tolerate you again?"

Barty smiles, a bright and open gesture that radiates even more warmth under the soft blanket. "Cause you're just as bad as I am," he wraps his arms tighter and noses at Evan's hair.

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Am n–"

"Watch the show, Ev," Barty interrupts, leaning down to kiss his cheek.

Evan scoffs but resigns himself to sink into the surrounding warmth, the rise and fall of Barty's breathing a comforting lull. The domesticity of it all makes his chest ache.

They go through another episode before Evan begins to feel the effects of sleep taking over, his brain peacefully blank and his eyes struggling to stay open.

"Sleep, Ev. I'll wake you later," he hears Barty whisper lowly next to his ear. Evan smiles, and lets his eyes close.

This, he thinks. This is perfect.

#late again hehe sorryyy #this was born out of my own need for evan to call barty baby #so yeah #that's what I did #this is just pure bliss in a fic #minimal silliness #they're just in love #rosekiller #rosekiller microfic #barty crouch jr #evan rosier #barty x evan #evan x barty #rat's silly microfics

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omentranslates · 2 months

Text

Owari no Seraph chapter 135 english fan translation

AND I'M FINALLY CAUGHT UP official at here thanks as always bye

Having devoured his brother in arms, Ferid is preparing for the final decisive battle...

*horrible chewing sfx*

Owari no Seraph chapter 135: Beginning Battle of the End

Vampire Wives: ....Crowley-sama

Vampires Wives: Crowley-sama

Crowley: Ng...

Horn Skuld: We're finally able to see each other again

Horn Skuld: It's been quite a while, Crowley-sama. Although, ideally our reunion would have been under different circumstances

Chess: But seriously, Crowley-sama, how could you!? Did you even look for us once after we went missing, did you even spend a second of your time on searching for us!??

Crowley: Ah well, I figured you'd just gotten tired of me and run away

Chess: Like we'd ever!!!

Horn Skuld: No...I believe Crowley-sama knew what had become of us.

Crowley: Well, you two are my first disciples* afterall. In a way. But to think we'd all have been eaten by Ferid-kun. So what exactly is this place, what goes on here?

Horn Skuld: We're being slowly consumed during our demon transformation.

Crowley: So I guess that makes this Ferid's insides?

Chess: Just take a look over there!

Crowley: Well I'll be damned, so I guess I'll become a demon then. Something like the weapons the humans made, I wonder? Ferid-kun really is a man of many talents.

Crowley: Oh, shit-

Chess: This is how the digestion works-!

Chess: *screaming*

Horn Skuld: It seems that you'll lose consciousness as more of you gets digested.

Chess: iserysfdjsdfkljsd stopppppp

Crowley: Huh

Horn Skuld: It also, I should mention, doesn't seem that our voices are able to reach Ferid-sama from here. Since we were absorbed here, we've seen many vampires try to curse, question and scream at him, but...

Crowley: No answer?

Horn Skuld: None. At least, not to us.

Crowley: Hmmm, that so, Ferid-kun?

Crowley: Well, that's all well and good then. I guess we'll just watch from within, then. Maybe from in here, we just might catch a sight of that heart and those plans you've never opened up to us.

Ferid: You'd better watch closely, Crowley-kun. I want you to see the finale I've been working towards for so long.

Chess: WH-

Horn Skuld: How-

Horn Skuld: Crowley-sama!!?

Ferid: Let's get busy

Ferid: Now that I've eaten Crowley, who's lived within our plan for so long already, that probably just puts me past a third progenitor, but I wonder.

Ferid: Only one way to find out.

Yuu: Devour my desire! Mikaela, GO WILD!!

Saitou: These guys never want to just listen when someone's talking! Capture him unharmed!!

Ky: Are you sure about that??

Lest: Walk in the park, he's outnumbered.

Shikama: O Darkness, protect Y-.....

Shikama: Shit....Shinoa's attack is even affecting my physical body....she's a beast.

Shikama: O, Darkness. Turn the vampires to dust.

Yuu: *screaming*

Saitou: DUCK!!!!

Ky: Wh-

Lest: Huh?

Random Vampire Whose Name I Learned and then Forgot Again: Ah-

Ky: HOLY FUCK

Lest: What the hell are we in it with the First too!??

Ky: O, SWORD!!

Urd: Rigr!!

Saitou: Urd, watch my six.

Urd: O sword, drink as much blood as it takes.

Urd: Shit. Rigr, we're going to be in trouble fast if we don't cut them off at the source!!

Saitou: I expect nothing less of our Father, still having this much power.

Saitou: PROTECT!!

Yuu: HERE IT IS, MIKA!!

Saitou: DON'T LET HIM THROUGH, URD.

Urd: No way this is gonna end with 'unharmed.' Actually, if restraining him isn't an option I really don't care if he dies.

Shikama: Yuu...Yuu...**

Yuu: Ahh...he's got that same tired expression that was so characteristic of him in my memories...

Yuu: I still don't know if there's a way, but I've come to save you, Father.

Shikama: Hurry, I doubt I have much time left for what I need to pass on to you.....

Shinoa: Ha...hahaha!!!

Shinoa: All of it, all of it all of it all of it!!! I'm going to swallow you!!

Krul: .....what now? Your vibes are totally off, who are you?

Ferid: I'm a fan of yours, my queen.

The Third Progenitor Showdown begins....!!!

*this word can mean either family or like serfs, so I settled on something in between the two, so it feels like he has responsibility to them without assuming maybe more closeness than the text is willing to state

**Shikama here is calling Yuu like he called the eyeball in the ancient flashbacks. Earlier in this chapter or the last he was using the kanji for Yuu's name, like our Yuu, but here he's calling ユウ like the homonculous.

#owari no seraph #english translation

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dearestones · 1 year

Text

Coffee Mugs and Confessions (Matsuda Touta x Reader)

Warnings: Fluff.

Anonymous Request: I've been reading your matsuda fics and they are so cute!! my boy needs more content🤧 I'm not sure if you still write for him but I could request Matsuda trying to confess his love to his coworker (sorry if my english is bad;;;

You absolutely adored your friend, Touta. Although he was usually held up with work on a case involving matters of great importance, he always made sure to spend time with you. Worrying about him was almost a futile effort. Even though there were days when you saw that there were more wrinkles on his face rather than sparkles in his eyes, when he saw you, his eyes would light up and his features would soften in light happiness. It was like he was a different person!

Gone was the stress and a subdued personality that was at odds with the persona you used to think was bubbly and somewhat childish back when you had first met. Yet, whenever he would invite you out for drinks after an entire day's worth of work lining the furrows of his brow, you could see that young man blooming to life again. With beer and sake flowing through the both of your veins, the both of you would talk about your day, often making jokes and commenting on the state of affairs regarding your places of work.

So, it surprised you one day, when Touta approached you.

You knew that he often stayed by his superior’s side, Chief Yagami Soichiro, but you were nonetheless happy that he sought you out. It wasn’t like you disliked the much older gentleman; it was quite the opposite actually! Almost everyone in your division loved and respected the chief and you hoped that once he retired, whoever would replace him would have at least a fraction of the charisma and the dedication that Chief Yagami often displayed. As one of his most devoted followers, Touta was sure to follow in his footsteps as a capable, but caring detective who had his eyes set on justice.

Truly, it was one of the things that you adored about your friend.

Even when it seemed like the world was bleak, there was an unerring sense of childlike faith that everything would turn out all right in the end.

Was it too childish in a field where sometimes investigations could be deadly or criminals had a tendency to get away if you weren’t careful? Perhaps, but you looked forward to his good nature and you hoped to learn from his resilience. Even if such naivete was not always welcome, you would support him no matter what.

He was a rare radiant light in this world and you were loath to take part in extinguishing such a wonderful trait from the world.

“Hiya, Touta!” You nodded at a mug of coffee that he often procured just for you. As always, it would be steaming hot and filled to the brim with your preferred way of making coffee. He was a quick study when he applied himself and considerate to boot. As you greeted him with a smile, you took the mug away from him, careful not to burn your fingers against the warm porcelain. “Is there something wrong? You usually don’t bring me coffee this early.”

You were joking. There were times when Touta didn’t want to be idle at his desk picking apart paperwork or following up with witnesses sometimes, but it was rare enough that you were—while not concerned—curious about his motives.

In response, Touta hummed anxiously, one of his hands reaching up to brush the back of his head. Was he trembling?

“Ah, do you mind taking a walk with me?” Your brows rose to your hairline. “I… It’s something important, but not that important? I mean if you’re busy, but—”

Kindly, you nodded at his rambling and eased yourself out of your desk and towards the exit. Grateful at your nonverbal acquiescence, your dear friend hurried after you, his words becoming more and more rapid as the both of you bypassed fellow detectives and police officers.

As your polished shoes tapped against the floor—quick, determined, and purposeful—you felt Touta’s hand grasp your shoulder before leading you towards the lobby area. Here, while there were many people bustling around, it was less likely that some of your coworkers near your area would be able to hound you with teasing and other delightful comments.

As much as you loved your job, there were times that you wished that some people would not pay your business any attention!

“So…” Touta took a sip of his coffee, probably burning his tongue by the looks of it as he suddenly gasped, before he regarded you sheepishly. “How was your day?”

You bit your lip to keep from laughing. “Touta, we barely started fifteen minutes ago.”

If there was one way to completely deflate Touta’s confidence, that was it. Like a bullet had hit his chest, Touta nearly keeled forward in embarrassment, but managed to right himself at the very last second. You felt bad, but you couldn’t help but pet his arm in amusement.

You squeezed his arm through his blazer, the crisp material comforting under your touch. “You’re nervous, so why not just tell me. Did something bad happen?”

Your voice was level, but you couldn’t help but internally wince at the concern that the both of you could clearly hear. Somewhere out there, a serial killer was running loose in the streets and committing crimes to a degree that was almost unheard of. At first, you thought that heart attacks were all coincidental—a new disease perhaps? an overrepresentation of deaths?—but then INTERPOL began to interfere and there were forums you would frequent online to check out the mess.

Apparently, everyone’s worst fears began to be realized.

Kira was not an entity to be trifled with.

Thankfully, Touta must have sensed where your thoughts were headed because he placed a hand over yours, his warmth a grounding presence that gently brought you back to the present.

“Well… that depends on your answer.”

Your brows furrowed. While Touta was clearly nervous now, there was a hidden strength in his words. It wasn’t a mask for his true feelings, no. It felt like he was steeling himself for a particularly tedious case. Or for battle.

“Well then.” You leaned back and gave him a toothy grin behind the rim of your coffee mug. Might as well enjoy your coffee if Touta decided to give you bad news so early in the morning. “Ask away.”

“What would you say to a date this Friday afternoon?”

If it were not for the fact that you knew you would have to clean the floor, you would have dropped or sputtered out your coffee. To compensate for your sudden bout of shock, you forced yourself to swallow and breathe.

In and out.

In and—

That’s it.

You had to ask.

“When you say date,” you proceed to ask in caution, “do you mean as friends or as… or as…” Your cheeks burned and the tips of your ears felt like someone had struck a match in close proximity.

What if you had misinterpreted Touta’s intentions?

Was that possible when you had heard him so clearly?

Or perhaps you were being delusional?

As your thoughts raced, which was akin to how Touta was rambling only moments ago you now began to realize, you felt Touta take the coffee mug away from your shaky grasp. A part of you wanted to hold onto the warmth, but you also knew that had he not done so, there was a very good chance that you would have become an impromptu janitor.

Touta leaned in close, his eyes freezing you to the spot.

Touta was a man who was able to live and grow from insecurities. He wore his vulnerability on his sleeve and he was not afraid to tell the truth. Although he was far from perfect, you knew that he would one day make someone so happy and proud to be his partner.

Would that partner be you?

“I’ve always admired you.” You had to strain your ears, his voice a soothing melody that barely rose above a lull. Dimly, you were aware of the world outside of this bubble, but you chose to focus on Touta. Even if he was so soft, so vulnerable at this moment, you thought him just as beautiful and as radiant as the sun. You couldn’t look away if you tried. “You’re kind, sweet, and just as driven to justice as the Chief.” He took a deep breath and smiled at you. “I know we don’t always get a happy ending in law enforcement, but I would like to at least try with you. Would you like to be my partner?”

It didn’t matter if he was holding two coffee mugs, you wanted to be close to him.

Without so much as an answer or warning, you flung your arms around his side. Splatters of coffee could be heard as Touta awkwardly tried to hug you back, but decided not to considering the fact that he was still holding the mugs filled with hot coffee. Instead, he inclined his head atop yours.

“Is that a yes?”

You squeezed tighter and made a promise to help him clean up the coffee after you finished conveying how much his confession meant to you.

“Of course it is!”

If you want to donate a Ko-Fi, feel free https://ko-fi.com/devintrinidad.

DEATH NOTE MASTERLIST

#death note #dn #death note matsuda touta #matsuda touta #x reader #death note x reader #gender neutral reader #gn! reader #matsuda x reader #matsuda touta x reader #dearestones #devintrinidad #dn matsuda #death note matsuda

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emeritus-fuckers · 7 months

Note

What's my role in the Ministry? (Ghost account: @gothdaddyissues)

1 - Sibling of Sin or Ghoul? Definitely a Sibling of Sin! While I love Ghouls, they are a bit too chaotic for me!

2 - Which Papa would I prefer to work with? Cardinal Copia / Papa IV - I relate to his energy (awkward, bad jokes, silly, secretly a ho - plus we're the same age)

3 - Introvert/ambivert/extrovert? 100% introvert. I don't have the mental energy to be super outgoing and 'fun at parties.' But if I connect with someone, I will gladly spend tons of time with them in contentment - it just has to be the right people, y'know?

4 - Chores? I love cooking/baking and I love organizing stuff. I keep things clean and tidy. Much prefer indoor chores to outdoor chores.

5 - Travel or stay at home? Unless it's somewhere I REALLY want to go, I'm staying home. I like being comfy.

6 - Freebie? I've been an Admin Assistant for decades and know my office/business shit. I love being creative, especially writing and making things with my hands. I generally like animals more than people (I have many pets, I feed wild animals, etc). I love goth/spooky stuff/ghosts/cemeteries/Tarot cards. I've been a rock 'n' roll girl since the 80's.

🖤💙🖤💙🖤💙

This post is part of the 1000 followers role in Ministry event. Entries (asks) for the event close on 23rd October.

Your role in the Ministry is… Personal assistant to Papa IV

Copia saw how good you were at your job as an Admin Assistant and immediatly made you his PA. He relies on you. He also recognised someone with a similar energy to him.

He enjoys your company too. You often end up working together in contented silence or if you have time just chatting over a hot drink.

You also get to help write some of his speeches for him. He'll often give you tasks/ask for help with things that involve being creative.

He also wants to learn how to bake so you spend a few afternoons a week teaching him. He once opened a flour packet and it practically exploded flour going everywhere. Despite both of you trying to clean it up his hair was still looking a little greyer than usual for the service that evening.

He went through a particulary tough time with work being very busy. You tidied his office for him (which had become messy) and sorted all his work. He thanked you loads and gave you a massive hug. The next day you found flowers on your desk which he had picked from Primo's garden (he'd checked with Primo first).

You also get to spend a lot of time with his rats, they keep you company while you work (especially if Copia is away). You know them all by name and they all know you now.

Since you don't like travelling Copia always brings you something back from tour. If there is anywhere your really want to go he'll find an excuse to fly you out there.

Written by Nyx

#jennmakesitweird #ministry role event #whats my role in the ministry event #ghost band #ghost bc #ghost band x reader #ghost bc x reader #ghost x reader #copia #copia x reader #papa emeritus iv #papa emeritus iv x reader

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