#I just wanna show they are written differently

[dakotadraws06]

Ep 1 of over analyzing Mordecai’s character/Talking about things I missed in my original read through of the comic.

I wanna talk about Mordecai desperation in the Gracie interrogation because I noticed a small detail about the speech bubbles that no one else (that I’ve seen) has said before.

Look at the way Mordecai’s second bubble is written. The way the letters seem more spaced out and the text is slightly off. I’m not sure if it’s a completely different font or it’s the same font, just changed.

“That’s how you live through tonight.” You can almost hear (and visually see) the grit in his teeth as he stares down at Gracie. His desperation. His NEED for answers being in his grasp and if he doesn’t get them now, he may never again. It happens again in another panel.

“A Name, Please.” Gracie isn’t reading the room correctly, Mordecai knows if the twins catch him, they will most likely both be dead (or at least Gracie will be). He NEEDS a name, same grit and desperation. The way Gracie spits out Drago’s name quickly because he realizes how serious this is just by Mordecai’s tone. Mordecai wants a name so in the worst case scenario Gracie is killed, he has the information he needs. But also, he’s desperate for answers to Atlas’s death. At the point of these scenes, it’s been a year and some time since Atlas died. I can imagine Mordecai is running out of steam, loose end after loose end, road block after road block, it’s exhausting both mentally and physically. He is RISKING HIS LIFE for this information, Gracie says so in this conversation. But we get to see that exhausted side of him too.

LOOK AT THOSE EYES. His posture, the hand his hand rests in his fur, his eyebrows furrowed. He. is. tired. It’s no wonder why he is asking help from Gracie cause he’s been doing this alone for the better part of a year and some change.

I’m so confident that he is thinking about all the possible outcomes and consequences that will come from even getting a PINCH of trust out to Gracie, which is why he doesn’t go along with his plan. But Mordecai sort of switches up on him.

“Gimme a name, anything you want, I’ll let my informant know I KNOW it was Marigold who killed Atlas May, then I’ll disappear like the dead.” (Not the exact words, a vague memory of it)

“Give me the name of your lawyer and I’ll make sure you stay alive tonight.”

Gracie is putting his life in Mordecai’s hands because I’m sure Gracie can see he’s desperate and knows if he gives him a bullshit answer, Gracie would most likely die by Mordecai’s hands.

Mordecai is exhausted. Mordecai is desperate for a good lead and some answers. And Tracy has done a FANTASTIC job at showing it through this entire interrogation.

[cherryblossombankai]

Summary: Hawks feels lonely and decides to go to a bar to look for some company. 

Word Count: 560

Warnings: drinking, flying, pretty tame overall tbh, language

Author’s Note: This was written for a little writing challenge! It was fun stretching my brain muscles and it’s been a while since I wrote something based on a song. 

Tag List: @pixelcafe-network, @actuallysaiyan, @helloiamadrawer

The bar is dark and quiet, but still, Keigo can’t hide anywhere. His strong wings draw attention wherever he goes. Usually, he plays it up, flashing a bright smile and telling jokes like he doesn’t have a care in the world. He wishes he really felt that way. Sometimes it would sneak over him. When he’d be soaring through the sky, high above the city, sometimes he’d feel free. Then, the feelings would quickly fade. He’d be reminded once more how he’s just a cog in the machine. At least nobody in this place approached him. They watched, of course, with flickers of recognition in their eyes. 

“Look it’s chicken wing!” one particularly drunk man yelled across the bar room. Keigo frowns, but when he turns to retort the man’s friend is holding him up and offering Keigo apologies. 

“It’s fine. Just take care of him,” he sighs before turning away. He finds a lone seat at the end of the bar. He did want company, but he wanted to stretch his wings out even more. 

You didn’t light up the bar when you walked in. There was no dazzling smile that drew his attention. You were lost in thought, maybe even a little sad. That’s what drew his attention to you, trying to decide whether you would cry. He fancied himself a bit of charmer and thought if he saw you crying, he could slide in there to make you smile. 

“Are you watching me, hero boy?” you ask from across the bar, speaking over the glass that you’re raising to your lips. 

“Maybe. Is that okay?” he smirks. 

You shrug in response, “You can watch whatever you want.” 

He could sense the sardonic resignation in your voice. The acceptance of your situation. He realizes maybe you were never sad at all, but instead frustrated. Maybe you feel like him. 

“Hey, you wanna do something cool?” he asks as he gets up from his seat and walks over to you. 

A soft laugh falls from your lips, “Define cool?” 

“It’s a surprise,” he assures you. “Just come with me. I’m a hero, right? You can trust me.” 

You roll your eyes playfully and stand up. “Fine, but if you try to like pull out your dick or something once we’re outside I’m gonna kick you.” 

“No promises,” he winks. There was something about him that you trusted. Then again, you figured maybe he was right. You’d always been told to trust the heroes, and even if his attitude was not typical at times, he’s the number 2 hero now. 

That’s how you ended up flying above the city in his arms. Your screams of delight fill the air around you when he swoops and spins to show off. Your arms are wrapped tightly around his neck. It had taken him a bit to talk you into it, but now that you’re in the sky you never want to come down. 

Keigo didn’t know how different it would feel not to fly alone. He tightens his arms around your waist and enjoys how it feels when you nuzzle into his neck. 

You’re still holding on tight when he finally lands in front of the bar again. You take a moment to regain your footing. 

Your smile is bright as you look up at him, “When can we go again?” 

[yueliie]

⊹ ׁ݂ ꒰꒰🍬 ˸ 𝐅𝐋𝐔𝐅𝐅𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑⋅꒷

CARAMEL. it's that time of the year once again...a month long annual of fluffy sweetness enough to have your teeth rotted! are you ready to dive in the land of sweet dreams?

CONTENT. all entries will be written as sfw only, the themes are varieties of different holidays such as halloween, christmas, valentine's day, tanabata (star festival) and etc. this event is open for all walk of life!

NOTE. welcome to my first flufftober event, where it was originally wbk-centric but I've decided to add some candies of other fandoms! the prompts are all prepared by me but special thanks to my little mousy, @zylophie for helping me on deciding for the remaining cast members. any of the prompts below may change, very unlikely but just a heads up. if you would like to be tagged in any and all fics please let a comment or send me a dm/ask! all works will be tagged with ⊹ ׁ݂ ꒰꒰🍬— flufftober.

LINKS. general masterlist ,,

“a single dream is more powerful than a thousand realities...don't you agree, oh dear visitor?“

OCT 1ST, YOUR VALENTINE.

featuring kn8 + valentine's day, narumi gen x fem!reader

— synopsis. “both you and your chocolate should belong to me only”

OCT 2ND, LITTLE SANTA CLAUS.

featuring kn8 + silly moments & costume ideas for halloween, ashiro mina x gn!reader

— synopsis. “...why a santa's helper outfit?”

OCT 3RD, MINE.

featuring wbk + first time making a bento box & established relationship, kaji ren x gn!reader

— synopsis. “...make these only for me from now on”

OCT 4TH, INDIRECT CONFESSION.

featuring wbk + tanabata, kiryu mitsuki x gn!reader

— synopsis. “the moon is beautiful, isn't it?”

OCT 5TH, CAN I KISS YOU?.

featuring kn8 + mutual pining & friends to lovers, ichikawa reno x fem!reader

— synopsis. “before you go...can I kiss you?”

OCT 6TH, HOLD MY HAND.

featuring wbk, togame jo x gn!reader

— synopsis. “I'll hold your hand until you fall asleep...”

OCT 7TH, MONSTER.

featuring wbk + valentine's day & established relationship, yandere!takiishi chika x fem!reader

— synopsis. “call me a monster, but I'm a monster who only wants your heart”

OCT 8TH, KISS YOUR TEARS AWAY.

featuring wbk, suo hayato x gn!reader

— synopsis. “don't show your crying face to anyone else but me”

OCT 9TH, PROOF OF LOVE.

featuring wbk, endo yamato x gn!reader

— synopsis. “why are you acting so embarrassed about?”

OCT 10TH, I DON'T WANNA EAT THAT MEDICINE!.

featuring wbk, kiryu mitsuki x fem!reader

— synopsis. “don't move around so much when you're sick!”

OCT 11TH, WOULD A HUG MAKE YOU FEEL BETTER?.

featuring wbk, togame jo x fem!reader

— synopsis. “do you want a hug?”

OCT 12TH, HOLDING HANDS.

featuring wbk + newly established relationship & first time, kusumi yuto x gn!reader

— synopsis. “can we hold hands?”

OCT 13TH, YOUR HEARTBEAT.

featuring wbk + childhood sweethearts & slightly hurt/comfort to fluff, umemiya hajime x fem!reader

— synopsis. “hearing your heartbeat, it's a melody I will never forget”

OCT 14TH, A PLACE TO CALLED HOME.

featuring kny, tomioka giyu x fem!reader

— synopsis. “with you, I find a sense of belonging, it's as if I'm always home”

OCT 15TH, STAY.

featuring wbk, endo yamato x gn!reader

— synopsis. “I don't know when to let you go”

OCT 16TH, TIME WITH YOU.

featuring wbk + established relationship & inexperienced bf, sakura haruka x fem!reader

— synopsis. “I don't care what we do, I just want to be with you”

OCT 17TH, FAR AWAY FROM YOU.

featuring genshin impact, furina x gn!reader

— synopsis. “I hate being so far away from you ”

OCT 18TH, GIFT.

featuring honkai star rail, feixiao x gn!reader

— synopsis. “I only accept gifts from the person I like”

OCT 19TH, THANK YOU.

featuring wbk + tanabata, hiragi toma x gn!reader

— synopsis. “thank you for loving me and... for being you”

OCT 20TH, CAN'T STOP THINKING OF YOU.

featuring genshin impact, kaeya x gn!reader

— synopsis. “I can't stop thinking about you”

OCT 21ST, SNACKS?.

featuring honkai star rail, aventurine x fem!reader

— synopsis. “It's your favourite snack, right?”

OCT 22ND, SILENT DESIRE.

featuring genshin impact, lyney x fem! reader

— synopsis. “I want to be with you forever”

OCT 23RD, DO YOU REALLY WANT TO KNOW?.

featuring wbk + valentine's day, hiragi toma x fem!reader

— synopsis. “you really want to know how I feel?”

OCT 24TH, SWEETER THAN CHOCOLATE.

featuring honkai star rail, robin x gn!reader

— synopsis. “you're way sweeter than any chocolate”

OCT 25TH, GOOD MORNING KISS?.

featuring honkai star rail, blade x fem!reader

— synopsis. “...good morning kiss?”

OCT 26TH, KISS THE CHEF.

featuring wbk, first time cooking & bento for him and its kind failed miserably, suo hayato x gn!reader

— synopsis. “I love everything you make though”

OCT 27TH, GUIDE ME.

featuring wbk, sakura haruka x gn!reader

— synopsis. “I lose my way, your hand guide me back to the right path”

OCT 28TH, MAKE ME FORGET.

featuring kny, aftermath of muzan's downfall & marriage life with self-healing, shinazugawa sanemi x fem!reader

— synopsis. “holding your hand...you made me forget all my worries”

OCT 29TH, THE FIRST ONE.

featuring wbk + valentine's day & coworkers to lovers?, suzuri shuhei x gn!reader

— synopsis. “I want your gift to be the first one I get”

OCT 30TH, ONLY HAVE EYES FOR YOU.

featuring wbk + halloween, hoshina soshiro x fem!reader

— synopsis. “how long are you going to stare when I'm right in front of you?”

OCT 31ST, WARMTH.

featuring wbk + christmas & established relationship—engagement?, umemiya hajime x fem!reader

— synopsis. “keep me warm tonight”

© yueliie 2024. do not steal, copy, repost, edit, translate or use my works.

[garbage--account]

IE villains's motivations through the games/seasons :

Franck Wintersea : "I am just a coward who fear for his life. I didn't wanted to be involved into those soccer shits in the first place"

Ray Dark : "soccer brought shame on my father and me by proxy. I grew bitter about it, and now i am evil"

Astram Schiller : "I'm blinded by the sadness of loss of my son, killed by someone unknown that wasn't punished for this therefore. The world must suffer for this injustice"

Wyles : "I am an opportunist. I saw I could become powerful while my boss was falling, I didn't hesitate seizing it"

Zoolan Rice : "your misery increases my money"

5th sector : "our goal is to establish communism into middleschool soccer, so that every child can taste success at least once"

Protocol Omega : "by erasing soccer through History, we prevent the existence of the most powerful terrorist organization in our time"

Nugen : "we didn't chose to be mutants with superpower, the adults chose to treat us like monsters"

Ixal Fleet : "Faram Orbius destroyed our planet. We want reperation"

Scale of Ares guy (i forgot his name) : "i plan to make some gifted children the ultimate supersoldiers at my command"

Orion Foundation : "we are a philanthropic organization that only longs to make the world a better place. But in the process, some evil will be necessary"

[ronanlynchbf]

tshirt that says NO LIVE ORGANISM CAN CONTINUE FOR LONG TO EXIST SANELY UNDER CONDITIONS OF ABSOLUTE REALITY

[codecicle]

codecicle you put things on my screen that are so confusing and have no relevance to my interests but its you so i find it so very endearing. keep having so much fun and whimsy on tumblr dot com child :3

you have GOT to get on this horrible TV show dude you don't even understand. it's bad and has 0 redeemable qualities, literally my bread and butter rn. can't get enough of it

[the-zapped-part-timer]

Sorry for not posting that much on here! Life is getting in my head right now and has affected my obsession with this show. Don't get me wrong, I still am very obsessed! But it's just taking a little pause at the moment. So much has happened, nothing really good, which is so fun.

This blog ain't go nowhere! Just burnt out, I guess? I promise I'll get to the rest of my marathon... eventually, I don’t wanna force it. It was just terrible timing overall.

Anyways, I'll be around, posting or rebloging! You can still ask me things or talk (but I might take a bit to answer, sorry).

Have a good day/goodnight y'all!

[bmpmp3]

lemme tell you im starting to get a little sick of when im complaining about when a show or movie is writing a major female character with not as much depth as her male cohorts or she's written oddly plot device-like for a main character and people always tell me "oh but it's intentional, we're seeing her through the eyes of the male main character and he has a crush on her so he doesnt see her flaws" because like

FIRST of all yeah i get it but its hard to write that trope interestingly to me at this point without a lot of work put into subversion so intentionality doesnt make it any less boring

SECONDLY half the time people say this about ensemble cast stuff and like why is the random dude suddenly designated as the most perspective of all perspective characters when it comes to this specific woman. why dont we get to see the other characters perspectives on her too?

AND THIRDLY do people view women they have crushes on as bland plot devices without lives of their own enough irl that this is so universal in writing? isnt the point of having a crush wanting to hang out and know more about your crush, know about their likes and dislikes and all that. am i missing something here

[adaine-party-wizard]

okay i’m having Thoughts™️ (bear with me or ignore me)

i hate that it feels like in response to the very shitty “is she pmsing” comment every time a woman (using woman here intentionally because of how this comment is usually framed/ discussed) has An Emotion it seems like the Correct Thing To Do is deny that periods have any impact on your emotional state.

cause boy HOWDY mine do especially when i’ve gone off birth control. my periods have been like better physically they HURT less but also im thinking about Laika the space dog and i wanna cry so hard im gonna vomit cause she was ALONE it’s so SAD she didn’t KNOW what was gonna happen!!! and like in normal circumstances i do get sad thinking about it but not THIS much!!! the hormones do real shit!!!

[queenhawke]

the more people keep saying iwtv is the greatest show on television rn the less i want to watch it. i think my brain is broken

[betagrove]

The idea that the game version of I Have N0 M0uth And l Must Scr3am somehow detracts from / ruins the short story is so funny

[variousqueerthings]

the fun of having put out the "bj's moustache is gay culture" post while also headcanoning first and foremost that whatever bj is, it's not actually gay but something way funnier and more fucked up

[ladyelainehilfur]

since it's on my mind, I'm going to list the pros and cons of the kdrama compared to the webtoon

Cons:

They took away aspects of Stephen's character that made him easier to sympathize with.

Gray is not really "weak", he's just short and kinda bad at running.

The runaway fam arc served as an unnecessarily long means just to foreshadow the government's corruption.

Stephen's ending was not as physically devastating.

Gray is driven by sadness instead of emptiness, lessening the impact of Stephen's influence on his personality.

Some of the new characters feel like plot devices.

Pros:

They really improved on Bryce's character as whole.

Stephen is charismatic and plays more of an active role in his ending.

Their families are far more fleshed out.

Gray shows actual care for Bryce.

Scenes of Gray and Stephen bonding weren't as montaged.

Stephen's living situation is more detailed.

They introduce illegal drug use, which makes a lot of sense for the union going forward.

[sourcetalkrambles]

Consuming a newer piece of canon source material that you don't relate to at ALL is so funny like. just that visceral reaction of That Is Not Correct

[waloeders]

i havent even finished editing the prev fic for jupe but i did write this for the next part and it made me laugh

[joelscruff]

imperfect for you (joel miller x f!reader)

masterlist | a/n written for @janaispunk's 1500 kisses challenge! i got joel + nose kisses with this lovely moodboard and actually managed to write something!!! believe it or not this started out as a drabble lmao. i hope you like it jana - sorry it's a bit late, and congrats again on your milestone 🤍 summary: you never thought joel miller would accidentally call you baby. warnings: age gap (joel is mid 40s, reader is 23), fluff, very brief instance of blood, tending to a wound, joel is eepy, soft kisses, cuddles word count: 5.5k ao3 dividers by @saradika-graphics

"When's the last time you slept?"

He doesn't bother to grace you with an answer, hands clenched on the steering wheel as you barrel down the vacant stretch of highway back to Lincoln. He's been ignoring you for the past fifteen minutes now, eyes straight ahead, brow furrowed, jaw clenched. But he looks pale, almost sickly, the whites of his knuckles stark against the sudden greenish hue of his skin. The last thing you need is for him to pass out and for the two of you to crash into a damn ditch.

"I'm just saying," you continue with an exasperated sigh, "I could drive the rest of the way, we're almost there."

No reply. You roll your eyes and cross your arms indignantly in the passenger seat, returning his icy demeanor. He's in one of his moods again, the ones only Tess really knows how to handle, but you'd volunteered to try your hand at a supply run in her stead which means she's not here to mediate. You should've known some issue would arise, stubborn Joel inventing problems in typical Joel fashion.

"You could've tried to last at least one more hour pretending to like me," you mutter, loud enough for him to hear. He doesn't say anything.

Almost a year of working with them now, and you still don't understand him. You're not sure you ever will. Tess, she's much easier to understand, much more open to being understood. She'd seen your potential and taken you under her wing, brought you in to help, taught you everything you needed to know about smuggling. And Joel... well, he's a different story.

"You know, Tess thinks I have promise," you continue anyway, expression crumpling into a scowl, "She thinks I can do this. I don't get why you don't."

No answer.

"And don't say it's 'cause I'm a kid, because I'm not. I'm twenty three now, I'm past the point of being called a fucking kid. The shit I've seen in that QZ-" you cut yourself off, shaking your head, "I'm not a kid."

His lack of response is beginning to hurt deeper than you'd really like to admit. You glance over at him again; he's still staring straight ahead, still ignoring your presence. It makes unwanted tears prick in your eyes, nose stinging a little as you peer down at your lap and fold your hands together.

You'd been excited for this supply run, probably against your better judgement. You'd wanted to show him how much you know and understand, how hard you've been working, how you're up to the task. Hoped maybe he'd give you a smile - rare, but not impossible - and tell you that you did good, that he sees potential in you too.

You care what he thinks, almost more than what Tess thinks. And you know why, can sense it deep in the pit of your stomach and in the way your heart stutters when he looks at you, but you're clearly living in a fantasy world if you think he's ever gonna get past whatever this stigma is that he has against your age. She's too young, Tess. She'll get hurt, Tess. She shouldn't be doin' this, Tess. You've heard it all, muffled through closed doors in a dark and damp hallway.

He doesn't want you, and you're not sure how much longer you can go on like this. If he's not willing to change his stance, view you as anything other than an inconvenience...maybe Tess will have to find somebody else to help out.

"I know what I'm doing," you mumble, a tear dribbling down your left cheek, "I just wanna help."

You spare him one more look, fruitlessly hoping that maybe he'll feel bad now that he's made you cry - a childish thought, considering you're trying to make a case for being mature, but you can't help it. You know he's capable of being gentle, of being kind. You've experienced it with him before, quiet moments between the two of you in his apartment while waiting for Tess to return, making small talk, him peering at you with a softness in those brown eyes that have since made frequent appearances in your dreams. Moments where you swear you felt wanted under that gaze, but it must've been in your head, because you certainly don't feel wanted right now.

He doesn't look well, you have to admit. His skin is covered in a sheen of sweat, getting paler by the second, turning an unnatural grey color akin to some of the hair on his head. His eyes are glassy, dark bags settled beneath them that you've noticed getting worse and worse over the past few weeks. You shoot a glance at his hands again and are surprised to see that he's loosened his grip, that his fingers seem to be trembling against the rubber.

"Joel," you say, raising your voice a bit, "Joel, are you okay?"

His lack of response no longer angers you - it worries you. Carefully, you reach over and slowly wrap your hand around his right wrist, eyes trained on his face. At your touch, he finally turns to look at you, almost like he's only just noticed you're even there.

"You say somethin'?" he asks, voice raspy, a bit slurred.

Your grip tightens on his wrist, "I think you should stop the car."

He looks at you curiously, dazedly. It's the expression of a man who's running on two, maybe three hours of sleep in the last few days. You choose your next words carefully, eyes flickering back and forth toward his face and the road that he's suddenly no longer watching.

"Let's slow down a bit," you murmur, thumb stroking gently along his skin - he's warm, warmer than normal - "I'm gonna drive the rest of the way, okay?"

You expect some pushback, an attempt at an argument, but the tiredness is setting in quickly. Without any hesitation he eases his foot off the gas and you hurriedly reach your own leg over into his space to push down on the brake. He doesn't seem to notice the way your bare leg brushes his jeans, the crease in your knee bending over the warmth of his thigh.

"There we go," you say softly, bringing the car to a slow stop. He's still looking at you, eyes unfocused as you carefully lean over a little more to unbuckle his seatbelt. You try to ignore how good he smells, how big he is compared to you, putting all your attention on getting him out of the front seat. You unlock his door and then unbuckle your own belt, hurrying out of the car to his side.

"M'okay," he mumbles as soon as you open his door. You start to help him out, and you think he's becoming a little more aware of the situation now, allowing you to pull him to his feet as you tug open the back door. "What's happenin'?"

"You're just tired," you tell him softly, "It's okay, you can sleep in the back, I'll drive."

"Bill n' Frank's," he says as you lead him the right way, pushing him a little and helping him place his knee down on the seat, "Y'know where it is? You remember?"

"I do," you tell him confidently, your hand coming down to press flat against his back - he's so solid, heat radiating against your palm, "Only twenty minutes away now, I got it. You just sleep."

He doesn't argue; in fact, he makes your job easier by crawling onto the seat and settling down with a low groan, rolling onto his back and breathing deeply. You can't help but let a small smile cross your features, watching as one of his hands comes up to rest atop his belly, the other dangling onto the floor. His eyelashes flutter a little, lips parting, and you're about to shut the door when he speaks again.

"I know you jus' wanna help, baby."

You stand there for a moment just staring at him, confusion racing through your thoughts. Goosebumps rise on your flesh as the last word repeats like a mantra in your head, steady and slow as Joel drifts off. It's only when the door is shut and you're in the front seat that you're able to put some meaning to the words, eyes wide as you stare at the faded lines on the road.

I know what I'm doing, you'd said, I just wanna help.

You leave him in the car when you get to Bill and Frank's, typing in the gate code with a backward glance at his loose form in the backseat. They must see him on one of the security monitors, because as soon as the doors open you spot them sprinting out of the house toward you, a scanner gripped in Bill's hand. Typical.

"He's okay," you tell them as soon as you're out of the car, instantly alleviating their stress, "He's just exhausted, I think he needs to sleep for a little while."

"Understatement of the century," Frank replies with a relieved laugh, eyeing the backseat, "Think we can get him in the house?"

"Just leave him in the car," Bill says with a wave of his hand, already turning to head back towards the house with the scanner hanging out of his pocket, "He'll be fine."

Your gaze meets Frank's and he rolls his eyes, "Come on, baby, let's get him upstairs." Your brows go up at the pet name, the same word that had fallen from Joel's lips only twenty minutes ago, but then Bill is shuffling back over with an annoyed look on his face and you quickly realize he's not talking to you.

Getting Joel out of the car proves to be a lot more difficult than getting him in. You try a gentle approach at first, brushing his arm and stroking his skin with your thumb again like you'd done earlier. You can feel Frank's eyes on you as you squeeze Joel's bicep, his wrist, his thigh, and you pretend you don't see the look that passes between him and Bill as you step out to let them take a turn.

Bill goes for a much more aggressive approach, shaking Joel's shoulders wildly and practically yanking him out of the car. Understandably, Joel wakes with a gasp and kicks his legs out, hand reaching for his pistol as he frantically tries to escape Bill's grasp. Before he can grab it though, he's suddenly falling forward, knees buckling as he faceplants onto the pavement beside the car.

Well, that certainly wakes him up. His hands press into the gravel and his head shoots up, blood trickling down his nose as he peers up at the three of you, stunned.

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Bill," Frank groans.

"That was not my fault."

Ignoring them, you kneel down and gently touch Joel's shoulder, a concerned look on your face as you eye the splattered blood on the ground, "Fuck, are you okay?"

"What in the hell is goin' on?" he groans, turning to look at you, "Did Bill just break my fuckin' nose?"

"Don't be dramatic," Bill barks, spinning on the spot and heading into the house, "Shoulda just left you in the car."

Joel starts scrambling after him, rising up and standing on wobbly legs, hand reaching for his pistol once again. You and Frank grab him before he can do anything, both of you taking an arm and holding him back.

"Joel, you're exhausted," you tell him quickly, utilizing all your strength, "You just need to lay down. Please."

He turns his face to look at you and something flutters in your chest when you catch the way his eyes soften, the anger in his expression fading as he acknowledges your presence. You can vaguely make out Frank watching the two of you in your periphery, but you try your best to ignore it, instead opting to give Joel a reassuring smile.

"Let's just get you cleaned up, okay?"

You're grateful that Frank leaves you alone with Joel to tend to his nose. You've only met him a handful of times, but each time he'd somehow been able to clock the way you interact with Joel, the way you look at him. The last time you'd been here he'd subtly pulled you aside to give you a few words of wisdom.

"You do realize he's extremely unavailable, right?"

"I- I don't know what you're talking about."

He'd smiled, tapped his nose and given you a knowing look, "And I don't just mean because of Tess. That man is emotionally constipated, kiddo. He's an island." He'd laughed then at your confused expression, shaking his head, "Just be careful, s'all I'm saying."

You'd gone to walk away, forget the conversation even happened, when he'd softly called after you:

"And I'm pretty sure Tess would hang your head on her wall."

You think of those words now as you stand in front of Joel in the small bathroom off the landing, lip between your teeth as you eye the cut on his nose. It isn't broken, thank fuck, but you can see some dirt and gravel in there that you need to clean out.

"It's not broken," you tell him softly. He's sitting on the edge of the bath tub, peering up at you with a much more alert expression. The fall definitely woke him up, not to mention the choice words he and Bill had thrown at each other as you and Frank helped him up the stairs. He's still exhausted though, and he needs to rest.

"I know it's not," he grumbles, "Just wanted to give Bill a piece of my mind for once."

You laugh softly as you reach for the damp cloth beside you, bringing it up to carefully pat it against the gash on the bridge of his nose. You can feel his eyes on you, watching and assessing as you do your best to wipe the area clean.

"I can do that myself," he murmurs.

"I just wanna help," you say quietly, and your eyes fall to his in a knowing glance. He doesn't seem to remember though, just nods and lets you carry on.

It's rare for you to be this alone with him. And by that, you mean this far from Tess. You're painfully aware that it would be impossible for her to walk in at any moment, to see the way you're standing over him, touching him. Frank's words from last time echo in your head but you're not quite sure you believe them; would she really be that angry if she knew how you felt about Joel? It's not like he'd return it, right? The man is twenty years your senior and, as Frank said, extremely unavailable. Not to mention Tess and Joel's relationship has been a point of confusion to you for a year now, still unsure exactly what they are to each other - would she really care?

You reach for the antiseptic - one of the many perks of having an injury in a supply house - and carefully dab some onto the cloth. Your hand trembles a bit as you reach up to carefully hold Joel's chin, your thumb getting lost in his greying beard.

"You haven't shaved in a while," you breathe, your eyes meeting his, and you wonder if you've already crossed a line by even noticing.

He doesn't seem to mind though, sighing deeply, "I haven't slept in a while, so let's hurry this up," he eyes the cloth, "Don't gotta warn me, just do it."

His words bring you back to the present, and you slowly ease the cloth down onto his cut. He hisses a bit, a normal reaction, but it only takes a few seconds to clean and then you're already reaching for a bandage, reluctantly letting go of his chin.

"I was worried about you, before. In the car," you tell him softly, unpeeling the adhesive, "Why haven't you been sleeping?"

His eyes fall to the floor, "I just don't sleep good. Never have."

"Is there anything I can do?"

He shrugs, gives you a humorless laugh, "Handful o' pills and a couple sips o' whiskey usually does the trick."

It makes sense, then, why these past few weeks he's seemed worse. It's been longer than usual since your last supply run and the three of you had started running out of vital supplies over a week ago now, not only for buyers but for yourselves. Joel had written whiskey near the top of the latter list, along with hydromorphone which he'd underlined several times.

"You should've told me you weren't feeling well," you murmur, applying the bandage carefully, "I could've driven the whole way."

"Could've, should've," he dismisses you with a grunt, "Doesn't matter now, does it? We got here, that's what counts."

You linger a little longer than you should on the bandage, thumb falling to gently trace the crease of his nose as you assess your work. It might scar, but it feels pointless to voice this - he already has so many, scattered across his face and neck like confetti. It hurts a little, knowing he's been through so much, seeing the evidence written all over him.

"My mom had this superstition," you tell him softly, a smile playing at your lips as you trace one of the scars under his eye, soft and delicate, "Whenever I got hurt, skinned my knee or busted my elbow playing, she'd bandage me up and then kiss it. She said a kiss would seal her love in there, keep me safe and protected. And if it scarred, that meant it worked."

He blinks at you, expression faltering a bit, "That's...that's a nice thought."

You shake your head, "It's silly, and not true. But... but I still do it anyway, even though she's gone. Just in case," you bite your lip, "I mean, who doesn't wanna feel a little more safe? A little more protected?"

Your gazes lock, and neither of you seem to move, caught in the stillness of the moment and the way your thumb is still stroking his face. You know you have limited time, maybe a few seconds before he breaks it, so without much thought at all you lean down and lightly press your lips to the bandage, eyes closed.

He inhales sharply, a sound that triggers butterflies in your tummy as you hold your mouth against his nose, soft and sweet. It's the closest you've ever been to him, even if you're kissing gauze and not skin - you can still feel the warmth radiating from him, sense the way he freezes below you. A squeaking sound pierces the silence, his hand squeezing the edge of the bath tub tightly. It startles you, your eyes blinking open as you pull back to look at him.

His cheeks are tinged pink, eyelids heavy as he peers up at you with slow blinks.

"You're tired," you breathe, unable to stop your hand from flitting to his hair, pushing a little behind his ear, "Let's get you to bed."

The Joel Miller in Bill and Frank's guest room is not the Joel Miller you thought you knew.

This Joel is loose, pliant. He lets you lead him into the bedroom with a hand on his back, lets you carefully turn him on the spot to reach up and undo the buttons on his flannel. Frank had told you on your way up to make sure Joel didn't get blood on the sheets, so you're only following orders, only doing what you were told.

"Sorry," you murmur softly, fingers shaking every so often as they toy with the buttons, sticky with his blood. Joel doesn't seem to notice though, retreating more and more into the sleepy state he'd been in earlier.

Once his flannel is off you assess his t-shirt and jeans, and you're not sure how to feel about the fact that they didn't get dirty in the fall. On the other hand, though, you're not sure you'd have been brave enough to take them off. Instead you help him toward the bed, pull back the sheets and carefully push him ahead.

"There you go," you whisper, helping him under the covers and pulling the blankets back over him. The sun is streaming through the window, casting the golden light of early evening across the bed, and while it's quite beautiful you shut the curtains anyway, knowing he'll sleep better in darkness. When you turn back around, he's already fallen asleep, lips parted, face peaceful. A different man.

You don't linger, even though you want to.

It's around ten o'clock when you decide to check on him again. You'd watched a movie with Bill and Frank, feeling more than a little unwelcome as Bill tossed you a few dirty looks every so often, though Frank repeatedly told you to ignore him. Now they're in bed downstairs while you pad from your own room across the hall to Joel's, turning the knob carefully. The hinges squeak a little as you open it and you wince.

"Who's there?" you hear Joel grumble from the bed. So much for just taking a peek.

"Me, just me." You push the door wider and walk inside, eyebrows going up when Joel turns on the bedside lamp. He seems a little more rested, although you know he still needs a full night's sleep. "I sent a message to Tess through the radio to let her know we're not coming back tonight - well, Frank did. Picked a song called Tomorrow or something like that."

"Hope it was the Johnny Mathis version," he mumbles, and you watch as he brings his hands up to rub across his face. He accidentally dismantles the bandage and you step forward without really thinking, hurrying to his side and reaching down to fix it.

His hand comes up to grab yours and you freeze in place.

"I can do it," he says, giving you a curt look and then releasing your hand to adjust the gauze himself.

Well, you suppose lax and sleepy Joel couldn't stick around forever. You stand awkwardly by the side of the bed, toying with the edge of the blanket as he rubs his eyes and sits up a little, leaning back against the headboard. He looks so much older in this light; you can see the little flecks of grey in his beard and hair that have been starting to get more noticeable lately, the crows feet, the wrinkles.

He's so handsome.

He turns to look at you with a frown, as if he's only just realizing what you said, "We can go back tonight, I'm fine."

"You're not and you know it. Besides, it's already past ten and now I'm tired, I won't be able to drive."

"I can drive."

"Joel," you surprise yourself by sitting down on the edge of the bed, narrowing your brow as you give him a serious look, "You can't drive. You almost fucking killed us both."

"No I-"

"Yes you did," your tone is firm, suddenly angry - are you angry? - "If I hadn't been talking to you, if I hadn't noticed something was wrong, you would've driven us off the damn road."

He goes quiet at that, frown deepening, the lines on his face more prominent in the low lamplight. You sigh, eyes falling to rest on where your hand is settled on the bed, only inches from his. Part of you wants to reach out and touch, feel the warmth of his skin, the rough of his palm - the other part decides to do something even more stupid.

"You called me baby."

It's out of your mouth before you've even really acknowledged it, and once the words have tumbled out you know there's no taking them back. Your gaze snaps back up to his, slightly surprised to see that he doesn't seem very shocked by your admission.

He clears his throat a little, averting his gaze and shuffling a bit under the covers, "Did I?"

"...Yeah."

You think maybe he'll say something else - anything else - but he doesn't. God, it really is like pulling teeth with him; he's so fucking beautiful but so impossible, never being able to expand on something unless prompted, never being able to answer a single question without jerking you around first. How the fuck has Tess managed to deal with it for so long?

The thought of Tess sends a wave of guilt through your body, Frank's words echoing in your head, but you shove it down.

"What made you... I mean why..." your voice is soft, apprehensive and shy in the quiet of the bedroom, "why'd you call me baby?"

A beat of silence. Then-

"Don't ask me that."

The mood has shifted, your sudden anger ebbing and his annoyance fading into something else, something on the brink of being real. He's avoiding your eyes, peering at the window with the curtains drawn and tapping his fingers anxiously against the mattress, so close to your hand. He's nervous; you're making him nervous.

You stay silent, hoping he'll speak again, hoping maybe just this one time he'll tell you what he's thinking.

"I don't know why."

The words are barely a whisper, almost like he's telling you a secret, and he leaves them hanging in the air briefly before amending - "Well," he sighs and finally looks at you, an emotion you can't place crossing his features, "that's not true. But... I didn't mean - fuck, I was passin' out, for Christ's sake, I didn't realize-"

He cuts himself off again, raising his hand up to press his fingers to the bridge of his nose, briefly forgetting the bandage. He winces when he comes in contact with the gauze, "Can I take this off? It's drivin' me fuckin' crazy."

"Let me do it," you say quietly, inching forward on the bed and reaching for his face. He flinches when you go to touch him, and your hand freezes mid-air.

"Sorry," he mutters, shaking his head like he's shaking off a sensation, a chill, "Go ahead."

With careful - and slightly trembling - fingers, you remove the bandage from his nose. It looks much better than before, no fresh blood in sight, and you suppose it's okay for him to keep it uncovered for the night. Without really thinking about it you gently thumb the side of his nose just shy of the cut, the tips of your other fingers brushing against his cheek.

"It's not too bad," you murmur, and before you know it you're suddenly cupping his jaw, feeling the weight of it in your palm. Your gaze falls to his lips, your thoughts going a mile a minute.

You realize you're close enough that you could kiss him, if you really wanted to. If he really wanted to. All it would take is one small movement, one little push from the both of you, one leap of faith...

And then he whispers your name, almost a warning, and it's like his thoughts are mirroring yours - like he can see exactly what you're picturing, wishing for. Your eyes meet his and you feel a flutter in your stomach when you see the way he's looking at you, a quiet hunger hidden in the deep brown.

You decide to test the waters. You lean in and softly press another kiss to his nose, this time without the gauze in the way. Just like you'd thought, his skin is hot under your lips, soft but scarred, and his smell - god, he smells so masculine and safe, invading your senses as your lips trail downwards to press a small kiss to his cupid's bow, then another to the corner of his mouth. It's sharp, prickly from his scruff, but it doesn't bother you in the slightest - in fact, you kind of like the dull pain, the way it grounds you, keeps you in the moment.

"Baby," he whispers, and a soft little whine falls from your lips without meaning to as your lips move to ghost across his mouth, going for another kiss - a real kiss.

He pulls away before you get there, but then his hand comes up to touch your face, big and wide. He holds you like you're precious, small. His baby.

"S'not right," he whispers, though his thumb strokes your cheek soothingly, "S'not okay for me to want you like that."

You close your eyes at his touch, breathing deeply, "But you do."

"Yeah, I do," you hear him murmur, "You know I do."

"For how long?"

He doesn't respond right away, just continues to stroke your cheek, hold what feels like all of you in his warm palm. You tilt your head a bit to the side, eyes fluttering open to look at him again. You catch the way his lips turn up a little at the movement.

"Too damn long," he sighs, "But that don't... that's not..." he brings his other hand up to cup the other side of your face, holding you still as he peers at you in earnest, brow furrowed, "Point is, we shouldn't... you shouldn't be out here alone with me. Tess knows how I-" he cuts himself off again, and you can see now how difficult it is for him to communicate like this, to be open and honest, "I told her it wasn't a good idea."

"Why?"

He laughs lightly, thumbs circling the apples of your cheeks, "'Cause look where we ended up." He swallows, eyes falling to your lips, "Look where you are right now, baby. Look where my damn hands are for cryin' out loud."

"Keep calling me baby," you breathe, a desperation in your voice that betrays your emotions, tears pricking in your eyes as the weight of this conversation comes crashing down around you. He wants you - he's always wanted you. His words to Tess about not wanting to put you in danger, wanting you to stay away, those soft looks you've shared in his apartment, the small talk, all of it - it's because he wants you.

"We can't do this," he murmurs, leaning in to press his forehead to yours, eyes closing, "I can't do this, you're so- you're too-" he groans, fingers digging into your hair, "You're so young, baby."

"I don't care," you whine, butting your head forward to chase his lips, suddenly yearning to be kissed and held and protected by him, be wrapped in his embrace.

But he pulls away, removing his hands from your face and shuffling back a bit on the bed, away from you. Your hand drops but you reach out pathetically for him anyway, moving closer, attempting to pull the covers back. His hands capture yours and he squeezes them firmly, shaking his head.

"You need to go back to your room," he tells you, and his tone has changed from soft to serious, "It's late and I'm... well, you know I'm fuckin' exhausted. And you've had a long day." He looks at you with pleading eyes, like he's silently begging for you not to put him in this situation, "Let's just call it a night, okay?"

"But-" you start, tears shining in your eyes.

"Please," he breathes, "Please don't make this harder than it needs to be."

You do not want to get up from his bed. But you do.

You do not want to leave his room. But you do.

You do not want to lie awake in your own bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking about how his hands felt on your face, the way his eyes searched yours, the way his skin felt under your lips.

But you do.

You lie there for hours, thumbs twiddling against your belly, tears trickling down your cheeks every so often. All you can hear in your mind over and over again is the word Baby, punctuated by that soft groan he'd made, the way his thumbs had stroked your cheeks, how large and warm and safe he'd seemed in that bed.

All you want to do is be in that bed with him.

So it's no surprise when, as the sun is beginning to rise and that warm golden light starts to stream through your window, you crawl out from under your blankets and cross the hall one more time.

"We shouldn't" he murmurs when you climb into bed with him, when you tuck yourself into his side and bury your face in his shoulder, but his hands are already in your hair, fingers stroking along the back of your head.

Your bodies mold together like they've always been meant to fit that way, your legs tangled with his, arms trapped under big biceps and hairy forearms, breasts flush with his suddenly bare chest.

"I wanna be your baby," you whisper.

The nose you'd kissed brushes slowly up and down the side of your face, and he doesn't hesitate this time. He reaches up to turn your head, presses his lips against yours and lets you melt into him. Lets you trail your hand downward to unbutton his jeans in the silence of the early morning.

"You already are."