#Joel dad mode gives me life

[batfamfucker]

The scene where they fall asleep laughing together PLEASE

[oonajaeadira]

Leave Off Your Wandering pt. 3: Autumn

Fandom: The Last of Us (TV)/ Joel Miller

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Reader: Adult female. Old enough to have been an adult on Outbreak Day. Wyoming born and bred. Sheep farmer, easy-going but confident and self-sufficient. Likes to sing, not a great cook. Childhood friend of Maria. No other physical descriptors; no use of y/n.

Rating: T for now

Warnings: Angst. Canon-typical tragedy (not main characters). Childbirth. A few names that may twist a knife.

Summary: You give Joel a lot to think about.

A/N: Set after season 1 and then diverges. Does not acknowledge the existence of further plot/seasons, although I claim the right to steal ideas and bits of cannon from the second game if I want to for plot reasons later.

It takes a lot to gain Joel's trust, and even longer to tame him. Thanks for sticking it out this long. We're finally shifting into acceptance mode.

“No, they do not make you look old. They make you look like Joel Miller in glasses. Just like the last five pairs. These are distinguished.”

“Looks like something my old man would have worn.”

“Your dad must have been a stunner. Assume the position. Bottom line.”

Turning him by his shoulders, you square Joel up to the line on the floor across from the eye chart at the back of the Jackson commissary.

“P…E Z O L C…F…T D.”

You pass him a handwritten note. “Good. Now use the bottom half of the lenses to read this one. Do it without squinting.”

Taking the paper, he squints. You pull on his arm to distance it correctly and he stops. He stares at the paper for a while. You might be concerned at the pause if he wasn’t taking a comically elongated time, breathing out hard through his nose, his jaw ticking left to right, feigning decisions, trying not to laugh. “Gimme a pencil.”

Without taking your eyes off him, you reach over to the counter and snag a pencil out of a cup and hand it to him, watch his eyebrows lift, his head shake, and give another dramatic sigh as he marks the paper before handing both the note and the pencil back over to you.

Joel Miller, will you go to the harvest dance with me? [x] yes or [ ] no.

“I don’t think these are gonna work,” he points to the black frames on his face. “Can’t read a damn thing. Not one damn word–” He can’t even make it through the sentence without cracking a smile, and only fully laughs when you playfully punch him in the arm.

“I’ll have you know this is a binding contract whether you can see it or not,” you join him in the tease, fanning the note in his face. “Just how blind are you???”

“Well, maybe I was working up to asking you the same question so…I guess not as blind as you seem to think.”

This slowly melts your laughter down to a smile. “Working up to it? What’s there to work up to? You mean… Did you…not want to?”

When his own smile fades, you realize too late that maybe he didn’t.

While you and Joel have fallen into a close friendship over the past few months, sometimes that’s all it really seems to be. There are moments that come close to something more–an arm draped over the back of your chair–or perhaps across your shoulders–as you stand in the back yard watching the fireflies, always a ready hand to help you up from a chair or the ground. If the two of you are ever in the same room, he’s always near, keeping you on his left where he can hear you. It took a while, but both Joel and Ellie have just stopped knocking when they come by, treating your house as they do Maria and Tommy’s–like family.

There are times he smiles in that way where his eyes shimmer and you think he’s coming around to falling for you. But he never pushes for more and you are beginning to wonder if he even wants that. After all, you’d learned from Tommy what life in a QZ can do to a person….and that’s on top of all the years the brothers spent surviving in some of the most violent and criminal ways possible.

Sometimes when you all sit out on Maria’s porch after dinner and watch the sunset together, he might take your hand in one of his–big, warm, roughened but gentle. And it’s at those times you almost forget about how he’d used it in the past. Almost.

With his bare hands, Tommy had said. Just come up behind ‘em and squeeze.

It takes time to become someone else. You always knew you’d need patience.

You just never braced yourself for something….a little less than affection.

“Listen, Songbird,” he sighs, his jaw shifting hard to one side. “I don’t want you to think–”

“Oh yeah, lookin’ goooooood,” Ellie’s opinion precedes your notice of her entrance. “Hey there, professor. I was looking for a book on relativity. Any suggestions?”

Pushing the glasses up the bridge of his nose, he ignores her sass and turns instead to the commissary register to mark down the inventory he’s taking. “Aren’t you supposed to be with Maria?”

“Yeah,” she shrugs, picking up an earthenware mug from a shelf and admiring the owl painted on it. “Her water broke. Baby’s coming. Can I claim this mug?”

“What??” Your body jerks, ready to run, but just barely holding back, shifting all the dismay you were just collecting and using it to power a new anxiety.

Joel’s head whips around, the glasses staying mercifully in place. “What are you doin’ looking for us? Go get Dr. Johnson!”

“Unclench yourself, my good sir. I already did. Went to her–” she says to him and then winks to you,”-- and Willa, thank you very much. You two didn’t tell me where you were going, you think I’m dumb enough to spend time hunting you down first? I’d be looking up and down Main forever. Have been. Almost went out back to see if you were eating spaghetti in the alley with one long noodle between you. Baby’s probably already here by now, jeez.” She spins on her heel, tapping the mug with a finger. “I’m taking this, thanks.”

Joel exchanges a look with you, the former conversation shoved roughly aside for a new concern. “I’ll register it and grab a few other necessaries. You go.”

This is no time to pick up the dropped dialogue but… maybe…should you stay and help? Oh. It takes a second to click that you can leave it to him. You don’t have to tell the man what’s needed for a new baby…after all, he knows more than you. Even if it was a whole other life or two ago.

And with a nod, you shelve your feelings for one more day and jog out the door to catch up with Ellie.

_____

Willa’s just walking out the door by the time you get to Maria and Tommy’s.

“You’re going?”

“For now,” she nods, working her shoes back onto her feet. “She’s got a while to go. It looks like it will be a pretty straightforward labor.”

“Did Dr. Johnson have anything to say?”

Her exhale tests high for irritation. “She’s upstairs. Why not go ask her yourself.”

“Wait. Willa. Did she send you away? I didn’t want to call her, but Joel thought–”

“Nah, it’s fine. I’m going to go take a nap so I can get through the night. But she’s using up all the air in the room and what Maria needs is to rest as much as she can and let it come. A good midwife would know that. Too bad the medical authority in this town is a gastroenterologist and not an obstetrician. It’s a baby and she’s treating it like an obstructed bowel.” Muttering something further about obstructions and matters of the bowel in regards to Dr. Johnson, Willa pats you on the shoulder before making her exit. “Maria can have water for a couple more hours, then sips only. Make sure she eats something.”

Upstairs you find your old friend in full concentration mode–laying on her bed, eyes closed, breathing hard, forehead smooth but glistening–as she awaits the next contraction. Tommy’s curled up next to her, holding one of her hands, his forehead to her temple, matching her breath for breath.

Her other hand is being held aloft as the good Doctor checks her pulse. “Family only,” she condescends as you enter the room.

“Good idea,” you say, plonking down at the end of the bed with enough of a bounce that Maria opens her eyes and glares from behind her belly. When you point to her swollen feet and let your eyebrows request consent, she nods, shuts her eyes, and focuses back on the process as you take a foot onto your lap and start to massage.

Maria groans in contentment and Dr. Johnson takes it for discomfort. Turning to you, her silvery hair pulled back into a tight braid, her frown causes her jowls to deepen. “I really must insist that you clear the room. The fewer distractions she has, the better things are going to go for her.”

You pull your stockinged feet up onto the bed. “Is that how it was when you had kids?”

“I never had children,” the doctor snaps.

“I see. Well, Maria said she was gonna freak out if I wasn’t here, so it seems now we’ve got ourselves a conundrum between what the doctor says and the patient wants. But, seeing as how this is her second child and she is very much my family, I think I’m going with her wishes on this. I never got to meet the first one; I’m sure as hell not gonna miss a minute of my new godchild.”

“Who said you were going to be the godmother?” Maria grumbles.

“I did. It’s your own fault. You left the position open and nature abhors a vacuum, so I’m gonna plug my old ass into that hole.”

“You are mixing so many metaphors there. Where’s–nnnnn,” her face becomes a wall of teeth as the contraction hits, her body a live wire as you and Tommy move to soothe. It takes a good minute for her breathing to slow enough to ask, “Where’s…Willa?”

“She says she’ll check back in tonight. You’ll probably be at this awhile.”

“Well, then, if you’ve got your magic healing woman then I’m not really needed here,” Dr. Johnson’s smile only travels halfway up her face. “Blood pressure’s doing well, no signs of abnormality. I’m sure you’ll be just fine. If you need me, you know where to find me. Just send the foul-mouthed girl again. Certainly with a set of lungs like that, she can easily wake me up in a matter of minutes.”

Nobody stops the good doctor on her way out and the train of her passive-aggressive, attention-seeking attitude trails behind her.

“She means well,” Tommy answers your scathing look.

“Your wife didn’t ask for her.”

“My wife’s never been through labor without drugs before. And she’s older now. I just…” his eyes soften on her with concern as he leans in and presses a kiss to Maria’s forehead, “I just want her to be okay.”

“She’s Maria. Of course she will be.”

The subject groans with a minor cramp. “Stop talking about me like I’m not here and go make me a taco. I’m starving.”

She’s less than thrilled with the berries you bring instead– “water and fiber now, carbs later” –but is placated with you reading her to sleep from one of her favorite Amy Tan novels. Every now and then she wakes up with a contraction, but a little soothe in your voice and she’s out again.

After a few hours, Tommy goes to nap in a spare room and Willa returns with a bag full of clean linens, ready to take over, sending you out to get your own nap in.

It’s quiet downstairs, the setting sun throwing long shadows through the western windows, mixing with a few faint rainbows still filtering through the leaded stained glass over the door.

Maria’s not far from you in age. If there were still doctors in hospitals, they’d call her pregnancy not just geriatric, but advanced geriatric. Even with all the medicine that used to be available, she and the baby would still be under the care of several wary eyes. If they both make it, they’ll have beaten the odds. If they don’t–

Slumping down on the couch and pouring yourself over it–just to put your feet up and your head down for a second…just a second–you push worry out of your orbit. This isn’t a world to worry in anymore. What comes comes. All you can do is what you can do. Maria is strong. Tommy loves her. Willa’s capable. The baby’s on time. Everything’s going to be fine.

It has to be.

It hurts too much to consider an alternative.

_____

When your eyes open again, the house is dark and quiet, the sun long since set.

Although, not so quiet when your stomach growls. Nor so dark either, as you notice a faint glow coming from the kitchen.

A simple investigation leads you to a tea candle burning in a jar on the countertop, next to a scrap of paper with your name scrawled on it and a plate covered in a linen dishcloth, under which you discover a flatbread sandwich.

One look at the handwriting and you can imagine Joel coming by to check up on things only to find you asleep on the couch. There was no gentle-but-possibly-disruptive blanket-covering, no “thought you could use something to eat” beside your name on the note. Nothing but reverent candlelight and one word to let anyone who found the plate know for whom it was intended, no requests or commands, just a quiet devotion, a simple offering to a sleeping idol to be taken or left as you chose.

If he doesn’t want you to fall any harder for him, he’s doing a terrible job.

_____

The final labor comes the following morning, Tommy holding one of Maria’s hands and you the other–both of you gritting your teeth as her grip leaves bruises–and Willa holding the soles of Maria’s feet, giving her something to push against.

Joel’s been tasked with guarding the door to the house since Maria’s taken to screaming with each push–not in pain, but in ferocity–and the neighbors have been coming around in concern. He’s quick to turn them around and send them on their way and you’ve gathered from Ellie’s reports that they seemed offended until she started volunteering the information that Willa is upstairs helping out. Then everyone readily accepts that all is well and being taken care of.

But Maria, she’s the real star of the show here. Yes, she’s in pain, and yes, she’s tired and weeping–no tears, dehydrated–but she’s nothing if not a fighter. She wouldn’t be in Jackson without that being true. And, frankly, Jackson wouldn’t be Jackson if it weren’t true either.

When it’s all done and the delivery miraculously comes off without a hitch, when Willa checks the baby boy over and finds him responsive and healthy, ties him off and hands him over to Tommy, taking her leave to go wash up and rest, the room is eerily quiet.

“Hello, little man. I’m your dad,” Tommy whispers, on the edge of tears but too tired to cry as he sits next to Maria and shares the bundle with her, the two of them staring down in awe at the tiny new human. “I’m your dad, and this is your beautiful, strong, fantastic mamma. And your auntie’s here too and we’re all damn happy to meet you. Welcome home.”

Maria smiles wide, the pain already fading to memory, an unnecessary detail she’s gonna leave behind her in exchange for exponentially better days ahead.

“Good job, you three.” Adding to the kiss count on Maria’s head, you start to pick up some discarded towels and sheets, preparing to leave the new family to rest. “Did you finally agree on a name?”

“Oh, I think I settled early on,” Maria sighs, completely in love. “Riley.”

You hum in satisfaction. “Nice. Where’d that one come from?”

“Ellie suggested it and it just hit me right. It’s a good name for a boy or girl, but mostly I liked it because it’s a fighting name. All riled up and ready to go.”

“Sounds like trouble.”

Maria snorts. “Oh, I’m sure. After all, he is a Miller.”

“Damn right,” Tommy whispers, bestowing his legacy.

It’s an easy decision to make, your vow of silence. You’ll never let them know you feared losing her. Not when there’s more now to protect, more to love.

There's been enough fear. It isn't worth your time.

_____

Over the next week and change, a routine easily emerges. You make yourself available during the day for any needs–help with cooking, diaper washing, or just rocking Riley while Maria has a bath or Tommy needs a nap. After school, Ellie comes by and adds two more hands, truly turning childrearing into a village affair. Joel’s the last to add to the party after the sun starts getting low and construction on the new district slows down for the day, earlier if it’s his day for patrol. Every night is family dinner night now and sometimes Riley’s actually awake enough to join them.

Ellie can’t get enough of her new little friend. If she’s got empty hands she willingly fills them with baby, either rocking him or laying him on a cushion to watch him watching her. She’s not had a lot of experience with babies or newborns other than the lambs, but she’s a quick learner. It’s just one more thing that this harder world has deprived her of. Babies were few and far between in the QZ and Ellie seems bound and determined to make up for lost time, not wanting to miss an instant of growth or change.

Joel, on the other hand, is more stoic. If he was hard of hearing before, it almost completely disappears when Riley’s in the crook of his arm. He can’t help but be captivated by his new nephew and you catch a fond smile creeping along his cheek now and then, but there’s always something a little sad behind it, and when the light catches a glimmer off the face of his broken wristwatch, it’s not hard to guess what he’s thinking.

It’s during one of these moments when Maria’s napping and Ellie and Tommy are out in the yard, that you finish up the dishes and plop yourself down on the couch next to Joel.

“Your arm tired? Want me to take him?”

“No. I’m fine,” he says quietly, trying not to wake the boy. But the silence is more for himself than the baby–Riley sleeps hard. For now.

You simply draw a knee up onto the couch and lean your elbow against the back cushion, watching them, chin in hand.

“Where’s Ellie?” he finally asks.

“Enough leaves are down. Tommy’s out back showing her how to make a leaf pile. And what to do with it.”

He chuckles, knowing exactly what’s proper and good to do with leaf piles. “We used to have a big maple out back when we were kids. Dad spent hours raking and nothing he could say or do could keep us from demolishing his work. Whip our hides and we'd be back out there the next day making a mess.”

“Well, at least lawn maintenance isn’t such a priority anymore, right? Just think of all the leaf piles this one’s gonna get. Let the destruction commence.”

“Yeah.” It’s slow and subtle, but the light slowly leaks from him, a twilight descending over his brow. “I guess there’s still a few pleasures to be had for kids in this world.”

This is why he’s always so contemplative with Riley. Worrying. Taking everything he’s seen and experienced and piling them onto one little baby, doing the parent thing, hoping that they’ll have a better life…but doubting that it could ever happen.

“There’s always going to be something, Joel. If the world hadn’t gone to hell, there’d still be car accidents and kidnappers and war in some far off country and the capitalist job market. A kid has every chance to have a good life in this time as in any other. And even if it isn’t in the world we remember, this one has you and me and all of us in it to look after one little boy who gets to live a life. Isn’t that what’s great?”

“Is it?” He finally turns to you. “You think it’s a good idea to bring a kid into this disaster?”

His eyes lay bare the puncture you’ve made in him, his sorrow and apprehension starting to vent, and it seems he hopes you can patch the hole because god knows his hands are full and not steady enough to handle the delicate procedure.

“Hey. Kids are going to happen, Joel. People are still going to find each other and fall in love and I hate to break it to you, but babies are sometimes a consequence of that. Biology’s a hell of a thing. But just because it’s not the world we knew as kids doesn’t mean it’s not worth living in. In fact, Ellie and Riley are going to do better than us, because they were born into it. They’ll have all of this kind of living in their bones from birth and don’t have to take twenty years to relearn it all. Or use up twenty years living life with regret.”

You expect him not to take that well, but he surprises you, softens, and turns back to the baby, his eyes skipping to his watch.

Maria told you once that sometimes she’s glad that Kevin died. He was still young–only 3 and a half–but he would have remembered. He would have held trauma. Back then, a lot of the little ones were lost, either to hunger or to attack…they didn’t know enough to be quiet.

Sarah on the other hand…. Joel didn’t know it, but Tommy had said once that Sarah would have never made it in this world. Too good. Trusting. Gentle. She would have been taken advantage of or become severely damaged by the shift coming in her formative years. Children are resilient, but a teenager’s psyche could be a difficult thing.

“Still not a good idea,” he mumbles. “But he’s here now.”

“Thank god. Maria needed another man in her life to boss around.”

He’s not budged by your joke. Instead, he side-eyes you, hits you with a cynical question, trying to knock you off your rosy pedestal. “If you’re so happy about kids, why don’t you have any of your own?”

You shrug. “Got sheep. What. Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what.”

“Not every woman wants kids, Mr. Man. Even if they like them a whole lot.”

“Biology’s a hell of a thing.”

Catching his not-so-clever info gathering, you smirk. “I had other things to concentrate on. And in the meantime, the factory had blessedly closed down.”

He can’t help the instinct that makes him truly assess you now. “You’re not old enough for that.”

You chuckle. “I’m starting to think what you don’t know about women could fill a few books, Joel Miller. You let me know when you’re ready to brush up.”

It’s at this point that Ellie calls in from the porch, telling Joel to “get your flat ass out here! Tommy says you’re a champion leaf-piler!”

“Goddammit,” he hisses as Riley starts to stir.

“Go on,” you smile, holding your arms out for the baby. “I’ve got him. We’ll need to wake his mamma up so he can eat soon anyway. Go on outside and play with the other kids. Be home before dark.”

_____

A few nights later, you’re making assessment in a full-length mirror on the inside of a closet door in a room in your house you very barely use. When was the last time you really had a look at yourself? And when was the last time you wore a dress?

Sure, it’s a fall dress, fine-knit by Addie as a gift for bringing her on as a Roostling so many years ago. You keep it for special occasions, which means you get to wear it maybe once a year. The wool is undyed, so the natural oat goes well with your brown leather work boots. Unfortunately, shoes are at a premium, so having a second pair just for fancy isn’t really a thing anymore. Doesn’t matter. The weather’s been a bit wet and the streets a bit muddy. Boots’ll do you just fine.

But you haven’t worn your hair like this in ages. Freshly washed and let to dry rather than set back or under a bandanna for utilitarian purposes, you almost forgot what it looked like natural like this.

You almost forgot that you could actually clean up quite pretty. Huh. Imagine forgetting a thing like that.

The knock at the front door’s expected. Even though Ellie and Joel come and go as they please, tonight you knew he’d do the polite thing and knock. The comfortable part of you wants to call down and tell him to just come in. But the hopeful part of you knows that this is his way of making an effort. Of taking a step your way.

“You sure?” you’d asked Maria earlier in the afternoon. “You’re gonna be okay for the night?”

“It’s a dance, not a trip to the moon. And Ellie’s here. We’ll have fun.”

Ellie rolled her eyes, clearly not happy about diaper changing duty, but smiling through it. “Please. Go. Get him out of the house. The later he comes home the better. Bonus points if he’s not back until morning.”

“Jesus, Ellie.”

Maria only smirked in full agreement.

He’s waiting on your porch when you open the door, one thumb tucked into his belt, the other holding onto a porch pillar as he examines the sole of one boot.

“You step in something?”

“Shit, I hope not. I just cleaned these. I thought–” but of course he stops when he looks up and sees you. Joel himself doesn’t have a lot of extra clothes, and is dressed in a clean dark flannel and jeans, nothing you haven’t seen before–although tucked in this time–his hair is still wet and slicked back, exposing more of the gray.

Your getup, however, is a new sight for him, and he’s struck enough to let it show on his face. So you give him a twirl, let the dress swing a bit. “Get your fill, I only bring this out like once a year. You’ve earned it this time.”

The smile is subtle, but it’s there, along with the tiniest of nods.

It’s not a long walk to the mess hall, but on your way you both determine that Joel’s definitely stepped in something, and yes, it’s still worth holding his hand. Horses are gonna horse and stepping in crap is an everyday occurrence when you live around animals at the end of the world. He seems grateful and maybe a bit chagrined, but neither does he seem ready to let you go.

The mess hall’s brightly lit; several jack-o-lanterns carved by the town’s kids adorn the long tables which spill out into the street to make room for the buffet and the dancefloor inside. A good portion of the town is out tonight and mingling under the canopy of string lights.

Addie and Goldie are the first to find you and greet you, the former admiring her own handiwork on your dress–even if she’s much improved over the years–and the latter pushing mugs of warm cider at you and Joel. Willa, it seems, took to the Roost short after Riley’s birth, always opting to take solitary watch during big gatherings and celebrations. But she did help with the decorations and is responsible for a good portion of the cornbread on the banquet table. When they start asking questions about the baby, Joel politely excuses himself, muttering something about getting you a plate.

“And how’re you doing?” Goldie asks, nodding after Joel. “I didn’t think that grump would warm up to anyone, but I suppose you’re tenacious enough when you want someone. I don’t blame you. Grey Fox indeed. If I was twenty years older, we’d have to share.”

“Yeah, he’s coming around.”

“Didn’t think you’d ever take up with anyone again. I heard Ellie had a run-in with the lye.”

A sudden lump rises, nothing you can’t swallow down. “She’s fine. And so am I. Maybe I'm a little lonely is all. Maybe I got a type. Here’s to hoping I’m wrong where it counts!” You smile wide, clinking your mug with Goldie’s and drink deep, chasing away whatever guilt rudely decided to come calling.

Tonight’s supposed to be happy. Tonight’s your night with Joel. Just you and him. No family, no interruptions. The past is the past. And this night is easily the first of many.

Soon enough you catch him waving you down at one of the tables and join him for dinner.

“Figured you weren’t picky, so I got you some of everything.”

“Hells bells, Foxy. Were you planning on dancing with me at all tonight? Because I won’t be able to move if I eat all of this.”

At least he swallows what he’s chewing so he can answer you between forkfuls. “Don’t worry. I’ll eat what you don’t.”

“Then how are you gonna dance?”

He shrugs. “Didn’t plan on gettin’ rowdy. Not with these knees.”

“Oh my god, you old man. Did you really come here with me just to sit and eat? There’s a band playing. And they’re good. You’re not gonna dance with me?”

“To be honest,” he says, straining above the chatter spilling out of the hall and taking another bite of chicken, getting it mostly down before continuing with a pained squint, “I was never good at it. One of those ‘stand around with a beer and watch the band play’ kinda guys. But a pretty girl wanted me to slow dance, I could do that. More swaying than anything.”

“Well I guess that’s something to look forward to then.”

“Good thing you’re easy to please.”

It’s another hour sitting at the communal table, the night settling in and the fiddle and guitar music rolling out from inside the hall. A few friends come by to visit, Missy Tippett makes her way to Joel’s right side to flirt and he pretends to hear her, answering all questions with a “yep” even if they aren’t yes or no queries and you do your best not to laugh. True to his word, Joel takes on the leavings of your meal–nearly half the plate–while you chat with folks, and he rises beautifully to the challenge. Without having to scrape and scramble in the QZ or starving out in the wilds, he’s put on weight since the spring, just enough to fill out his hollowed cheeks and pleasantly soften down his belly. He keeps active with the construction enough that he’s putting away more fuel than storage, but it’s good to see him enjoying the harvest.

You’re mid-conversation with one of Willa’s brothers when Joel taps a knuckle on your elbow. Turning to find him with his chin in his hand, he points inside of the mess hall where a slow song just started, an old Buddy Holly tune, True Love Waits. The time has come then. Like the worn shoe that he is, he gets up and re-tucks his shirt as you excuse yourself and then let him lead you inside to the dance floor.

He’s an old-schooler, guiding you close around your waist and taking your hand in one of his.

In all the time Joel and Ellie have been in Jackson what you’ve felt toward him was a strong pull, a crush, an attraction. It’s been years since you felt drawn to someone like this. But it isn’t until this moment that you actually register the ramp up and learn that your species of butterflies don’t really seem to reside in your belly, but behind your sternum. The tip of your nose and chin tingle with the proximity to his, his breath warm and apple-scented, his flannel smelling of soap and being dried in the sun. His hand fits perfectly at your lower back and your arm was made to curve up and around his sturdy, ample shoulder.

It’s that feeling where you can’t seem to look him in the eye for more than a fraction of a second for fear of losing control, and so you focus on his chin instead, yearning to land your lips there.

It takes most of the song to realize he’s doing the same with the top of your head.

You should say something; it feels odd not to be poking fun somehow. But then, you can’t think of a damn thing to say now that you’re exactly where you’ve been wanting to be all these many months. Well, nothing witty anyway.

“It’s been forever since I slow danced with anyone.”

“Out of choice, I assume,” he answers after a while. “Seems odd you being here so long and not spoken for.”

“Not everyone has to be paired up for life to be worth living.”

“Maybe not. But it looks like you want to and I’m not sure how anyone says no to you if you set your sights. You’re damn persistent.”

The song ends and you break to applaud, ready to quip back. But there’s a look on his face, and expression that you’re not able to categorize in the context of this moment, only that it looks like he might want to leave or be alone.

“Joel, I’m sorry if I pushed you. I know you’re still settling in. I didn’t mean to–”

But the next song starts up, sweet and slow–You Belong To Me–and he doesn’t give you a chance to finish. He just pulls you in close, tucking your head against his shoulder under his jaw, taking your hand again and holding it against himself.

“I’m settled,” is all he says as you sway.

Determination. That’s the expression. A commitment laced with lingering sadness or fear.

And that’s okay, you think. After everything he’s been through, that’s okay. As long as he wants to be here with me, everything’s going to be okay.

At the end of the song he peels away, and while the expression has softened, it still remains.

You reach for his hand. “You wanna walk?”

He nods. You let him lead.

Outside in the crisp autumn night air, he doesn’t take the direct path to your house, instead, he ambles slowly down another road, toward Maria and Tommy’s place.

Joel’s a thinker. He’s got things to say but needs to put them in order in his head first. So you let him organize while you walk slowly beside him, the light and the pretty violin ballad fading behind you. It takes a little longer than you expect and you’re almost to the house when he finally speaks.

“I’m not good at this.”

“You say that like there’s one right way. Like I’m expecting something out of you.”

It’s obviously not what he expected you to say. “But you are.”

“Okay, maybe. But I’m also willing to meet you where you are.”

“No, that’s not what…” he breathes out hard, frustrated that his thoughts are getting out of order, but you wait. “You should be…expecting…something. You should want me to…reciprocate.”

“I do want that, but I can’t force you and I know it.” You amble on, watch his jaw tick. “Joel, I’m crazy about you and I’d love nothing more than for you to feel the same way about me. It’s been a long time since I felt that way about someone. But I know it’s different for you. I know you were more recently attached, and for a long time–”

“It wasn’t like that. Well…wasn't like this, anyway.”

You follow him silently past Maria and Tommy’s place–dark, everyone asleep–and take a turn that will eventually lead you to your own house. A block goes by before he finds his next words.

“Tess and I…our lives…we were…rough with each other. Cared for each other, but we were hard. We had to keep on our toes, couldn’t let feelings get in the way or make mistakes. But all that…stuff… We had each other physically but we kept a lot at arm’s length. Like a survival mode. Conserving our energy for things that kept us alive. Safe.”

“I think I understand. Tommy said–”

“Tommy didn’t understand shit. He thought I was using Tess. But he was wrong.” Even if he’s keeping his voice even, his eyes cold, you can see his fist clenching and unclenching out of the corner of your eye. “I…I needed her and didn’t know it. She was right there and I should have… told her so. That’s what I think I’m saying. I don’t have any practice in anything that isn’t just surviving. And I don’t know if I can give you what you want.”

“Are you pulling a ‘you deserve better’ on me?”

Another look of surprise. Again, you’ve thrown him for a loop.

“Because I do deserve better. You’re right. I do deserve to be loved and to be adored and to be happy. But so do you. Most of us do. Doesn’t mean everyone’s gonna get it. Sounds like you spent the last decade and change denying it for yourself and to someone else. But at least you had someone. At least you knew where you stood. Me, on the other hand…I spent the last decade remembering something like that and wishing it would come back, knowing it wouldn’t, and beating off any chance of having it again like a damn fool. Maria ever tell you about Troy?”

His headshake is subtle, but his look of concern not so much. You decide to let it roll off you just as you had with everyone else in the past ten years.

“Figures. Tommy’s got a big mouth but Maria’s always kept her trap shut when it’s not her story to tell.

“Troy was my...husband. We were married for three really good years. He was a refugee, like you. Came through from Seattle QZ with his sister. Ash was a wild one, loved the sheep. She was the last trainee we had before Ellie came out. She had a habit of wandering though, hopping the barrier for berries and honey and just to run free in the woods without a care in the world. Almost cut her off from going out to the Meadow, but Troy spoiled her, took her side in most things. His only weakness. Damn, I loved that stupid man so much.”

Coming up to your house, you take a seat on the steps, not ready to go inside yet. As you continue, Joel follows your lead and ends up beside you.

“You ever wonder why Maria and I don’t live on top of one another? Troy and I lived in the house next door. Once he died, I couldn’t bear to live there anymore.”

The breeze picks up and you give it a minute to die down. Joel’s voice pushes through your silence just above a whisper. “What happened?”

“Troy and Ash were out at the meadow and they weren’t answering the check-ins. So Willa and I went out there with the patrol. Right away we see almost the whole herd gathered in one lay. Not like them unless they’re protecting a sick or injured one. And that’s what they were doing, all huddled around the hole.

“Can’t say for certain how it went down, but from the looks of things, Ash got herself bit, nearly took off her forearm. Back then the area wasn’t so cleared out and Ash liked to play her chances outside the barriers as I’ve said. Must have scrambled back in and come looking for Troy or he brought her back thinking he could fix it and found out he was wrong. He blew her face clean off. He must have dug the hole and put her in it. Covered it with lye. Got in there with her. Shot himself.”

“Jesus.”

“Yeah. Bodies were in pretty rough shape when we found ‘em.” The stars are bright tonight as you blink back tears in the dark. “I shouldn’t have let her go out there. I thought he would get her to take it seriously. I should have pushed. But. They were so close and I also know that I couldn’t ask him to choose my wants over hers. And in the end it looks like he wouldn’t have picked mine anyway.”

The power from the dam is being conserved for the harvest dance tonight, so the streetlamps are dark on your row. But the moon’s bright enough to catch Joel watching you, reassessing you.

“I’m very, very capable of deserving love, Joel. And I’m capable of giving it with my whole, stupid heart. I remember what the world used to be, and how it turned on a dime and how we all lost everything we were and had. And when I met Troy I thought that love could fix it. Nope. It doesn’t fix it. The past doesn’t go away. But it’s nice to have someone to walk through the better days with. To choose to live in the present and make it brighter.”

As if the world is an underscore to your story, one last, lonely cricket interrupts the silence, a holdout for the season, waiting a little too late to find itself a mate and a home.

“I’m a murderer, Songbird.”

It’s a simple statement.

“I know you are.”

“Just so you know. Just so you know what you’re getting into.”

Now it’s your turn to gather your thoughts. “We’re all a pile of our many selves. Who we were, who we choose to be going forward, how we see ourselves, how others see us. It’s all there, always will be. All of us a little broken. Fractured. But it doesn’t have to be just one thing forever. There’s no mark of Cain here. Just making choices every day to be the person you want to be. You find your people and you take care of them as best you can, and they do the same for you. You slip up, you start over tomorrow.”

And now it’s his turn to blink up at the night sky.

“You did what you had to do, Joel, we all did. We all had to revise the moral manual for a minute. Nice thing about Jackson these days is that there’s nothing you have to do. You can just do what you want, what makes you feel whole and alive. And if that’s something different every day, then that’s your choice. You say you’re not good at this, but you are. You danced with me. Walked with me. Listened. You’re just as good as you have to be and if you want to be better at it then you just...try again. You get unlimited tries.”

His expression is muddled in shadow, his face turned out of the light and focused on you.

Suddenly tired, you stand up and walk up the stairs to the door. “I had a nice time tonight, Foxy. The best. Even if it ended on a downer.”

“That’s my fault.”

“No. It’s nobody’s fault, it’s just what life is now sometimes. Will I see you tomorrow?”

He’s slow about it, but he climbs the last few steps to the porch. You were wrong about the solitary cricket; there’s still a few still pushing the limits, challenging the first frost, singing to the moonlight.

Reaching out, letting his fingertips trail your arm all the way down, he captures your hand to keep you still and moves in, slow and quiet.

When he finally kisses you, it’s a tentative declaration, a promise of what he can give right here, right now; his kiss lingers in apology, showing you in every way that he has trouble letting go, unpracticed in being tender, but he’s willing to try.

Finally.

Every second lingered is worth the wait, only because you can feel that it won’t be the last.

“Guess I shouldn’t put off until tomorrow what I can start on today then,” he says when he steps back.

“That's a real good start.”

There’s not much more to say as he makes his way down the steps off into the night and toward his own house. No need. No expectations. There’s always tomorrow.

And since Joel’s come to town, it seems like every tomorrow’s usually been better than the yesterday before.

_____

You’ve been sitting on Maria’s couch knitting a sweater in the chilly morning sun for at least a good hour when Ellie comes down from upstairs.

“Oh hey, you’re here,” she says, throwing herself down on the floor by your feet and beginning to paw through your basket.

“I am. Didn’t have any plans today, thought I’d come and be on hand. How’s Riley?”

“Down for one of many naps. He’s growing so fast already.” Finding a full spindle in your stash, she begins unwinding it and forming it into a neat ball with practiced hands.

“That’s what babies do. He’ll be walking and talking before you know it.”

“We should bring him out to see the sheep when he’s walking.”

“We’ve got a corral of milkers in town he can visit. Probably not a great idea taking kids out of town. You’ll see when he’s up and about. Little kids like get away from you and hear themselves scream. Hard to keep safe if you’re dumb and loud.”

“Oh. Right.” She’s silent a while, slowly building her yarn ball.

“Something you wanna ask me? It’s not like you to volunteer to help with this part.”

There’s a certain way Ellie chews her lip and scrunches it at the same time. “I was thinking of asking you…if I could stay behind next time you go out to the Roost.”

That makes you chuckle. “Riley’s a little more fascinating than the sheep right now, huh. What. You thought I’d be mad?”

“No, just…I do like being out there. But I also feel like I can help here. For now. And I know you’re skipping your weeks to be here and I thought if I stayed you could go and then there’s still enough of us around….”

“The sheep are in good hands, they can wait. I’m in no hurry and I don’t mind being here. But I appreciate it.”

The yarn’s coming to an end, the ball in her hands reaching a pleasing softball size. “Can I ask you a favor then?”

“Of course.”

“Tommy went out to the reconstruction site and left his lunch and Maria asked me to bring it to him so he doesn’t come home for it and wake her or the baby.”

“But you wanna stay here.”

“Yeah.”

“Good timing.” Smiling and finishing up your row, you tuck the needles and sweater into the basket. “It’s a nice, dry day for a walk and I’ve been meaning to go see that sector. Tell you what. Eye for an eye. I go out there, you ball up all those spindles while I’m gone. Don't undo my knitting."

What the autumn sun is lacking in warmth, Ellie makes up for it with that spark of unbridled joy. “Fuck yeah, deal!”

_____

Swinging a bundle bag full of Tommy’s lunch and other sundries, you walk out to the old north edge of town. The wall’s come down here, another one erected a handful of blocks beyond, re-civilization slowly sweeping and expanding out as the need arises. The houses are in varying stages of disrepair, repair, and some have come down to use for scrap. Your elementary teacher’s house is still here, getting a spiff-up treatment and you’re remembering Mrs. Erstine and her roses fondly when there’s a sharp whistle and call of your name.

Joel’s walking down the block toward you with an easy smile and you return it as he nears. It’s been a couple of weeks since the harvest dance and you haven’t seen each other much outside of family dinners and scattered evenings at Maria and Tommy’s’. Between the rush to get some of these homes fit for winter and you helping out with all the canning and preserving down at the mess hall, a twilight trio on the porch with Ellie here and there has been your scant means of together time.

“What’s brought you up this way? Everything okay?” He’s good enough to bend his neck a little so you can meet his patchy cheek in a kiss.

“Tommy forgot his lunch and Maria wants to spare him a trip.” You hold up the bag. “And I brought treats for you too.”

His finger hooks the bag, trying to peek in. “Really.”

“Nah ah, not until you take me to your leader.”

“My leader,” he scoffs, turning and leading you up the street. “Ain’t nothin’ he can do I don’t have to come up after him and fix.”

“Speaking of fixing, we could use new shingles at the Roost. It’s been wet and I’ve heard there’s a leak.”

“Yeah? When you going out next? I’ll go out with you.”

Turning onto a more wooded road, you both follow the sound of hammers. “Well, Goldie’s up there now and I usually take after her. I suppose I could go next week before the rains really start up.”

“Next week then.”

As you approach a beautiful A-frame home, Tommy’s over to one side at a couple of sawhorses, measuring out a beam. Joel calls out to his brother with the same whistle he gave you.

“It’ll be just you and me,” you say. “Ellie wants to stay home with Riley.”

Joel’s head whips around. “What?”

“Hey there, ma’am-o-jam, what brings you up here? Everything alright?” Just like his brother.

“Yeah, all’s well. You forgot your lunch and my legs needed a stretch.”

“Oh shit,” he grins. “I was just starting to get hungry. Thanks.”

“No problem.” You gesture to the house. “This is really beautiful. It’s like a bigger version of the Roost.”

“It’s nothin’ like the Roost. It’s on the ground.” Tommy smiles as you swat at him. “We’ve started with all the houses that need the least amount of help, tearing down the ones that need the most to fix ‘em up. This one had a lot of protection from the elements–the sun and the snow–from all these pines around it. All the windows still in place. Mostly just had to clear out a couple of overgrowths in the basement–probably the previous owners gone to seed. But it’s all good treated hardwood. Good bones. It’ll stand another century or two.”

A small, involuntary shiver passes through you at the casual mention of dead infected. “Did you burn them? The previous owners.”

Your reaction doesn't escape Joel’s notice. “Did it myself. There were a few in this section. It’s okay. They were long gone. Dry as a bone. It’s safe here.”

He’s earned a smile, even if it’s a sad one. “That’s good. They must have loved this house, to want to stay here, even when they didn’t know any better. Can’t blame ‘em. Anyway,” you go through your bag, lifting out a small parcel and handing the rest to Tommy, “here you go. But this is yours,” offering the parcel to Joel but then snatching it away as he reaches for it, “only if you promise to be honest and tell me if you like it or not.”

Joel’s eyes light up when he opens the package. “Holy shit; is that…pecan pie?”

And Tommy winks as he takes his lunch and walks back toward the house.

“Heard it was your favorite.” You can’t help but laugh at his big dumb grin. “Don’t be too excited! I obviously had to make every substitution. Walnuts for pecans, honey for sugar; it’s not exact, but it should be close enough. Been working on my bakes.”

Taking a bite, he shakes his head in what at first seems like pain but soon reveals itself to be the opposite. “Damn woman. And you only bring me one piece?”

“You’re a carpenter. That’s a triangle obviously cut out of a full circle. You know there’s more where that came from.” It’s a pleasure to watch him lose a battle against another big bite. “I take it you’re happy.”

His mouth full of sticky sweetness but the crow’s feet setting in, all he can do is chew and cock his head, looking you over as if to say, damn right I am.

_____

Joel’s quiet the whole ride to the Roost. It’s easy to guess what’s troubling him. A whole week alone should be exciting, but he’s worrying about expectations again and there hasn’t been much time to talk about it…or he just didn’t want to.

“Meadowlark to Goldfinch.”

“Present.”

“Bringing a Grey Fox in at the north gate.”

“Noted. You brought your own sheets I hope.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you catch Joel’s frown and straightened shoulders as he suddenly loses the sympathetic gait with his horse. “Yup. Both sets. For two beds. Man’s here to work on that roof and I’m only payin’ him in food.”

“Ooof. Poor Joel. He deserves better.”

“Yeah, well I’m working on it. Boiled water last night and I didn’t even burn it.”

The banter seems to have relaxed him back into the saddle sag for the time being, and you keep it up until Goldie has you in her sights.

“I know you like sleeping under the stars, Foxy, but it’s been cold and wet. Bed’s yours. I’ll take the top bunk.”

“Fine,” he grunts.

“And you’re not allowed to go up on the roof unless I’m around to spot you.”

“I can handle it.”

“Oh, I’m sure, but my nerves can’t. And this is my domain. I’m the boss out here.”

This gets you one half serving of smile with a side of eyeroll. “Yes ma’am.”

Once you’re settled in, Joel descends the ladder and starts going through the woodpile, looking for adequate repair material, taking up the axe to split some logs for shingles while you go take a cursory round through the meadows.

The sheep are mostly on the near side by the copse of trees housing the Roost, keeping a tight flock, settled down and facing into the wind. A few bleat as you arrive but none of them skitter, allowing you to pat a couple as they chew cud and to check any for painted marks in case Goldie found one of them sick or lame. Other than one small ram that wants to playfully butt you in the thigh, all seems well. The rest of the flock is mostly down by the river and you take a little time to make some noise and shoo them toward the others before circling back to the Roost….

…which is where you find Joel Miller up on the ladder prying at rotted shingles.

“What the hell did I say, Cinnamon Roll?”

“Hold your britches,” he calls down. “I’m just assessing.”

“How am I supposed to get up there and you got the ladder?”

“Oh now we have a quandary,” he jokes. “What are you gonna do if I don’t let you up?”

“You think I haven’t slept out with the sheep before? I’d have no issue with it but that it’s gonna rain, so maybe you should let me up so I can help and make that repair go faster.”

Coming down and moving the ladder to the balcony drop, he scans the sky with doubts. “What makes you think it’s gonna rain?”

“Because I read sheep.”

“You read sheep.”

“Yeah. They spell it out like a marching band. RAIN. Big letters. Cursive. Could you just–”

The ladder comes sliding down with a thunk and you climb, taking his helping hand as you reach the top.

He smirks. “You’re cute when you’re angry.”

All you can do is shake your head and hide your grin. “Don’t you dare. I’m gonna get my gloves.”

As he starts to heft the ladder back up, you go inside and quickly grab a wool hat and a pair of deerhide gloves from your pack. Turning to go back out though, a glint catches your eye near the door.

There’s a new nail in the wall.

With a broken watch hanging from it.

Huh.

This must be the place where he feels like he can be free of it and of the past you gather it represents for him. A special spot for it by the door where he won’t forget it when he leaves, somewhere he can see it if he needs it, but not carry it so much.

It’s a nice piece but for the hole. Well cared for. 2:40. You realize with a little regret that you missed the anniversary, that Outbreak Day no longer registers. Which means you also didn’t–

He doesn’t like to celebrate his birthday, Tommy once said.

It had come and gone without much fuss. But also without any noticeable misery. Railroaded by a new nephew and hard work.

That’s good. He’s not forgetting, just letting it rest. Someday it will be a good day again.

“You gonna get out here and hold this thing or what? You’re the one said rain is coming.”

“Not me. It was the sheep. Hold your britches or get a better belt. I’m coming.”

_____

A gentle roll of thunder wakes you in the night and the Roost is dark as you listen for a moment to the rain pattering against the roof slanting up and over you, inches away. Tuning in, you train your ear for a hard patter, a splotch, any indication that the roof patch didn’t hold, but of course it has. It was mended by Joel Miller himself.

Well, at least it’s dry, but damn, it’s chilly. A glance toward the little iron stove shows you nothing but darkness, which means the fire’s out. As much as it hurts to leave the little nest of warmth you do have, it’s probably better to relight it and warm the place by morning, so down the bunk ladder you go, being as quiet as possible.

Somehow, it's always comforting waking up at night at the Roost. Your house in town is too quiet at night, too full of the possibility of unfamiliar ghosts--of those that lived there, of the society it held, of your own loneliness. At least out here you feel held by the trees and needed by the sheep. There are ghosts buried out there in the meadow, but they're long gone now, part of the land itself, land that was always wild and free and full of the kind of life that wasn't destroyed all at once in one day. Night at the Roost is a quiet comfort, a place of purpose and sisterhood and family. It's full of wooden and woolen things made by hands you know and is welcoming to everyone, including the moonlight and the stars.

It takes a little doing with the wind up and you have to manipulate the flue a bit, but after a few minutes there’s a lovely crackling and smell of pine. Padding over to the chair by the window to snatch the wool blanket there, you stop for a minute to look out at the storm, trying to catch a glimpse of the sheep in a flash of lightning, but there’s not much of that to be had, so you wrap the blanket around yourself and make your way back to the bunk ladder.

“Sheep okay out there?” Joel mumbles in the dimness from his bed, somewhere near your knee.

“They’re fine. Did I wake you up?”

“No. Been listening to the rain a while. You cold?”

“Yeah. Fire went out. You?”

His answer comes in the form of something like a sail in the darkness and it takes a second to realize that he’s holding his blankets open in an invitation. “Come on. You’re gonna let the heat out.”

Sliding into Joel’s warmth is an easy decision to make. And it’s not just the warmth of his sheets, but that he brings the covers around you, pulling you all the way into his chest against his soft old undershirt, tucking you in under his chin, wrapping you up in his whole, woodsmoke-scented self.

Every tension in you simply melts into bliss.

Resting his lips against your forehead, his breath fans gently at your hair. “I could get used to this.”

A long hum rides out on your exhale. “I think I already am.”

“You’re a good woman, you know that?”

“Spoken like a true Texan.”

A long kiss presses into your forehead. “I’ve been thinking about what you said. I’m gonna do my best to be good again, Songbird. Hope I can be what you want.”

“That’s easier than you imagine. You’ve been what I want since you showed up around here, so I’m already quite pleased. Hope I can be what you want.”

A new warmth takes you over as he starts to spread his hand along your back, simply running over your contours, testing out what it’s like to hold someone this way, slowly caressing, lightly squeezing, tucking you in tighter. “You seem to know what I want before I even do. I look forward to finding out what I want next.”

“Well, I have to admit. Your brother tipped me off about the pecan pie.”

He laughs a little as he tips your chin up to meet you in a kiss in the dark. It’s hesitant but hungry; a long time needed and a long time savored.

“Did your sheep say it was supposed to rain all day?”

His hair and beard ruffle softly under your fingertips. “I didn’t ask, but I think it probably will. Sure hope that new roof holds.”

“We could always just stay right here and keep an eye on it.”

“See? You know exactly what you want. We can do that. I’d say that’s a good day’s work.”

His hand splays big and warm on your back, pinning you close for another kiss. “I tend to agree.”

_____

PREVIOUS: SUMMER

WINTER

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[honeyedmiller]

Fate, After All | Joel Miller —

Part Five (Finale)

warnings: tooth-rotting fluff (of course), no outbreak!Joel, Joel and reader are literally so in love it makes everyone SICK :’) , smut (fingering, unprotected piv [wrap it up y’all], f oral receiving, tongue fucking, spitting, literally just rough dirty sex [don’t look at me omg]), no use of y/n. 18+, minors dni.

word count: 9.8k (I'm so sorry omg)

series masterlist

-

Not long after you and Joel confessed your mutual feelings for one another, the older Miller brother had asked you to move in with them. Sarah couldn't have been more excited, because that meant instead of talking to you on the landline when you weren't around, she could just walk down the hall to her dad's bedroom or downstairs and you'd be there.

She never really spoke about it aloud, but she was thrilled to finally have a mother figure around in her life. She loved her dad so dearly, but there was just some things that she couldn't talk about with him. She was sure his 'papa bear' mode would kick in if she ever even mentioned boys or wanting to use tampons or anything of the sort. Not only that, but just having a woman around to guide her in life as well was something every young woman should have, and now, she had it for real.

Joel on the same hand was eager for you to start moving your stuff in. You sold a lot of your furniture pieces because you wouldn't be needing them anymore, and truthfully, you being sort of a minimalist made the move-in process easy for everyone. You always kept your space tidy and de-cluttered frequently. Joel's heart swelled at the fact that his double vanity in his bathroom and master bedroom was finally taken up halfway with someone he loved so much. He literally smiled at the sight of your toothbrush every morning, as a reminder that this was all real—you're here, you're his, and there's no one on this planet he'd rather be with than you. You were his dream woman. He'd thought he lost out forever after he chickened out and failed to ask you out in high school, you leaving for college and not keep in touch with him. Boy was he glad to find out he was terribly wrong.

-

It'd been a couple of years after your initial move-in, and you'd just gotten home from a long day of work. You closed the front door softly, slipping off your heels to the side of the entryway while hanging your coat on the coat rack. Hushed whispers were coming from the kitchen, as if you weren't supposed to hear the conversation that was happened.

"You think she'll like it?" Was all you caught before Sarah smacked her dad lightly on the arm as she heard your footsteps approaching, luckily not seeing the two of them and how quickly Joel had to slide the velvet box over to his daughter, to which she tossed in her backpack.

"Hey you two." You beam, taking your hair down from your claw clip as you approached them.

"Hey honey." Joel smiled, pulling you in for a hug and a kiss. You moved to Sarah as you kissed the top of her head as she greeted you, moving to the fridge after to get a bottle of water.

"What were you two talking about before I came in?" You ask, eyebrow raised quizzically.

Joel's face nearly turned beet red, but Sarah stepped in before he could come up with a lame excuse.

"We were just discussing if you'd like takeout for dinner, or pizza." She shrugged, and you narrowed your eyes for a split second. A headache was already brewing in your frontal, so you decided to let it go and nod.

"Either's fine. Don't really have the energy tonight to cook, truthfully. I have a headache I can already feel." You sheepishly smile, and Joel's lips formed into a small frown.

"Go lay down for a bit honey. We can wake you when dinner's here." Joel encouraged. You untwisted the cap to your water bottle, taking a gulp before recapping it and nodding.

"Alright." You nod, smiling softly as you move past them both to make your way upstairs.

"Alright, give me the thing back before you lose it." Joel whispers when he thinks you're out of earshot, but again, the headache you have is growing by the minute so you couldn't be bothered to even think twice about what he just said.

You plop yourself down on your side of the bed once you reach your shared bedroom, right after changing into a long sleeve and some sleep shorts. You snuggle under the brown comforter, drifting off into a much needed rest to alleviate the your headache. It felt like you'd only closed your eyes for five minutes before you heard Joel's rather heavy footsteps—loud enough even if he was trying to be quiet—approach the bedroom door.

He shuffled to where you laid, peaceful and silently begging him in your mind to let you rest just a little longer. "Baby, wake up. Food's here." Joel softly brushes loose strands of hair out of your face, cupping your cheek gently. Your eyes flutter open to meet his, and he has a sincere smile on his lips.

In a sense, Joel was grateful that you went to go lay down. He was disheartened that you were in discomfort, but glad he had enough time to elaborately plan out the night he was going to ask you to marry him. He'd already talked everything through with Sarah—you and her were going to have a 'girl's day' to get your nails done and have her help you pick out an outfit on Saturday, and then Sunday, if all went well and according to plan, he was going to take you to surprise you with three things before he popped the big question.

Sarah'd helped him pick out the ring about a month prior while you were at work, and they both came to an agreement that the beautiful teardrop ring with tiny diamonds surrounding the front of the band was the perfect ring for you. Classy, elegant, and beautiful.

You sat up from the bed slowly, breaking Joel from his thoughts. You stretched and yawned, the feeling of your headache significantly subsiding.

Joel stood up to his full height to offer you his hand, and when you took his, he brought yours up to his lips to kiss the back of it. You smiled sleepily and dragged yourself up, bones cracking in the process.

You both silently made your way downstairs and into the kitchen, where Sarah was starting to pile her plate with the yummy local Chinese takeout down the street.

“So, I was thinking,” Sarah starts, looking at you pointedly. “What do you think about a girl’s day Saturday? We haven’t had one in awhile.” She offers, and you realize it’d been a few months since you’ve had one with her.

“I’m in.” You nod, and she grins at your agreeance.

The three of you ate dinner with Sarah chatting for the most of it, but you never minded. You loved to hear her talk about her day or the funny things that happened at school. She was a junior in high school now, and you just couldn’t believe how fast time flew. She was sixteen already and on the varsity soccer team. She had really good grades, a good group of friends, and had a boyfriend (with a little protest from Joel, but you had to remind him of how you two were when you both were her age).

She was a really good kid with a good head on her shoulders, and as you’d told Joel multiple times he did a wonderful job raising her, he insisted on saying you helped to contribute. He told you that she saw you as a mother figure, and she couldn’t have been happier with who her dad had picked to start dating those few years ago.

It’s funny, because Joel did always think you were the most mesmerizing person, even back in high school. He always thought you were smart, sweet, funny, and just downright beautiful—and if someone told him he’d been planning on proposing to said person in just a few days? He would’ve never believed them. He always thought he’d pretty much just end up alone, which of course made him a little sad, but he’d finally accepted that truth. And then, you came into his life. Just when he was content with being alone, you showed up and bewitched the older Miller brother mind body and soul, and he fell head over heels fast.

A few hours after dinner, Sarah had gone to bed and you and Joel were enjoying some time to yourselves in the living room. You were laying down on the couch with your legs tossed over Joel’s lap, as both of you read in silence—you, Pride and Prejudice, and him, a potential new client and their contract they’d want to discuss with Joel sometime within the next week. Joel and Tommy’s contracting business really took off after a big investor saw their handiwork and what they could both do, and started giving them bigger projects to work on in Austin. Financially it was amazing for both him and Tommy, but sometimes Joel would be gone for nearly the whole day. You and Sarah both missed him dearly the times he was gone longer than usual, but you both understood that his bigger clients needed his full, undivided attention. He was working on hiring more people to take over some of his responsibilities so he could free up his calendar, because every time he was on the job, he’d open up his wallet to look at the picture of you and Sarah he’d taken one winter day when the three of you decided to go ice skating downtown. His heart would ache with the fact that he couldn’t just be with you two all the time, and he knew you both understood his disposition, but he still missed you both so much nonetheless.

Joel was running his fingertips softly over one of your shins when he cleared his throat, and you dog-eared the page you were on before closing your book to look at him.

“Would you ever want to have any kids?” Joel asks you, and you sit up on your elbows to look at him. His eyes were soft yet curious, and his hand movement on your shin halted so he could rest it on you.

“Sarah feels like my own kid too.” You explain, and he chuckles.

“I love that you feel that way, baby, but I meant have another one. A baby. With me.” His grip on your shin tightened in the slightest, gaze never wavering from yours.

“Oh,” You paused, thinking it over for a second. You pictured yourself having a kid or two when you were in your early twenties and figured you’d have them by now, but given your previous track record for dating before Joel, nothing ever worked out. Since Joel came into your life and introduced you to Sarah, having a kid of your own hadn’t ever really crossed your mind… until now. “Yeah, I would.” You answer, sitting up completely now and setting your book on the coffee table.

“You don’t sound so sure.” Joel smiles softly, but you can tell there’s a sort of sadness in his eyes.

“I just really hadn’t thought about it recently, until just now.” You move your legs off of Joel to maneuver yourself, taking the contract gently from his hand before setting it down on the coffee table next to your book. You swing a leg over his lap so you’re straddling him, and his hands instinctively rest on your hips. He starts to rub small circles into your skin, and you push your body flush against his so your face is mere inches away from him.

“Is that something you want, Mr. Miller?” The playfulness in your tone seems to shift his mood into a slightly happier one.

“Yeah, actually, I’ve been thinking about it and I really do miss having a little one running around.” He kisses the corner of your mouth, before pulling back to gaze at you once more.

“Do you think Sarah would be okay with it? That’s a big age gap. I know she’d be the best big sister, but you know.” You say, raking your hands through his soft curls.

“She’s been hinting that she wants a little sibling for some time now. Not sure she’s hinted to you, but to me, she certainly has.”

You laugh at that piece of information, because it’s something Sarah would definitely do.

“Alright then. I guess when the time comes, we’ll talk to her about it.” You nod, moving down to kiss him. He immediately responds to you by molding his lips to yours, hands moving up so they press against the small of your back.

“I love you, sweetheart.” Joel murmurs against your lips.

You smile softly, cupping the side of his face. “I love you too, handsome.”

-

Saturday had seemed to have come at a snail’s pace, but when it did, Sarah wasted no time in getting you both up and out of the house in record time. It was ten in the morning when you both got to the nail salon, and since it was rather early for the weekend, you and Sarah got taken in right away.

The kind nail technician asked what design you wanted for your nails, and just as you were about to pick a color, Sarah piped in.

“You should get your nails round with a French tip.” She suggested, and you contemplated. You’d never gotten French tip before, but it was cute and looked nice. You went along with her idea, and the nail tech got to work. After an hour and a half, you were both done and out of the chairs. You were about to pay when Sarah stopped you.

“Dad said this one was on him.” She smiled, pulling out a card that she used for a joint account between him and her.

“That’s very kind of him.” You say to no one in particular, putting your wallet back in your purse.

After she swiped the card, she looked back at you with a grin. “Let’s go shopping for a new outfit!”

Her ecstatic nature made you smile, loving that she didn’t think she was ‘too cool’ to hang out with people older than her. She had many friends, yes, but she also valued spending time with Joel, Tommy and you as much as she could.

After driving to the mall, she insisted you both go into a fairly new boutique with gorgeous clothes that were unfortunately on the pricier side.

“Sarah, honey, this place is a little out of my budget.” You confess sheepishly, because you didn’t like to tell her no. Joel told you it was okay to say no to her, but she genuinely never asked you for anything ridiculous or out of the ordinary.

“I know, but let’s just look around for a bit to see if we can find anything.” She smiles softly at you, and those green eyes of hers were so bright and hopeful that you couldn’t resist.

You’re such a sucker for her, Joel’s words rung in your head. You shake your head slightly, looking through a couple of racks before your eyes landed on the most beautiful dress—floor length champagne color that flowed beautifully. It had a slit where the right knee was, and it was fitted on top with spaghetti straps.

Sarah caught you staring at the dress and nodded in encouragement. “You should try it on.” She suggests, and you break your gaze away from the dress to look at her.

“Honey, this dress is over a hundred dollars. I don’t know…” You trailed off, never to be one to spend that much money on one piece of clothing.

“I just wanna see what it looks like!”

“Fine.” You knew you couldn’t argue with her because she was always firm on her stance.

You took the dress off the rack and went into the dressing room, trying on the delicate material. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t fit like a glove. The dress was perfect, like it was made for you. You couldn’t help yourself, so you fished your phone out of your purse to snap a picture (which was poor quality, of course, given the technology of flip phones), and sent it to Joel with nothing but a heart emoticon.

Joel rarely checked his phone while he was on the job, so you hadn’t anticipated a speedy reply. You tossed your phone back into your purse and stepped outside of the dressing room so Sarah could get a look. She gasped in awe, motioning for you to do a twirl.

“You look so beautiful. Wow.” The look in her eyes was telling you to get the dress. You suppose it could be worn for a fancier date night out with Joel, though you could literally be wearing a burlap sack and he’d still think you were the most beautiful person in the room.

“It does fit me good, huh?” You ask, gnawing at your lip. You sigh, giving in and deciding to get the dress. You change back into your regular clothes before bringing it to the front counter to check out. You were about to get your wallet out of your purse, but again, Sarah beat you to it and swiped her card instead.

“Sarah!” You gasp, looking down at her with furrowed eyebrows. She looked up at you sheepishly, shrugging.

“Dad said!” She held up her hands in defense, and you pinched the bridge of your nose.

“Please don’t be mad,” She started as you thanked the sales associate as they handed you a bag with the dress inside. “Dad told me he wanted to treat you.”

“I’m not mad, just… he shouldn’t be spending this kind of money on me.” You sigh, getting back to the car. You were definitely going to have a talk with Joel, because he loved to spoil you and Sarah both, but you felt bad when he spent a lot of money on you in general. You and Sarah both got lunch, which you made sure you paid for, before driving home. To your surprise, Joel’s truck was already in the driveway.

You both entered the house, only to find Joel in the kitchen once you both made your way through the living room.

“Hey dad.” Sarah greets him, giving him a hug.

“Hey babydoll. How was girl’s day?” He asks, looking between the two of you. The Millers both gave each other a certain look, as if they had a secret to hide, but you figured it was another insider between them so you brushed it off.

“It was great. Got our nails done and found a pretty dress for her,” She poked your arm, causing you to smile. “But I’m tired. I’m gonna head upstairs and take a nap.” She bid you both goodbye, before marching herself upstairs and closing her bedroom door.

“I have a bone to pick with you, Mr. Miller.” You cross your arms over your chest and raise an eyebrow at Joel, who’s looking at you with a smug smile.

“And what would that be?” He trapped you between the kitchen counter and his body, both arms flexing to cage you in on either side.

It was hard to concentrate when his tall, broad frame was just yearning to be touched in front of you. He had already taken a shower, so he smelled like fresh pine, cedar and mint.

“Why’d you spend so much money on me? Sarah tricked me twice and swiped her card before I could even get my wallet fully out of my purse.” You huffed, gaze never wavering from his.

“What, I can’t spoil my woman?” He asks, dipping his head to kiss you on your exposed collarbone.

“That was a lot of money, Joel. I love you and appreciate you wanting to spoil me, but–”

“No buts. I wanted to pamper you a little and make sure you had an outfit for our date tomorrow night.” The smug look he had on his face never faltered.

“We’re going on a date?”

“We’re going on a date.”

-

Sunday evening rolled around, and as promised, you and Joel went on said date. Joel took you to the nice Italian restaurant you two had rekindled at. You’d realized then that you hadn’t been there since that day, so you thought it was sweet he was bringing you back there. Although you were enjoying the food and the company you were with, you felt a bit overdressed. Joel even swapped out his usual plain t-shirt or flannel for a nice black button-up shirt with some slacks. You’d never seen him so dressed up in all the years you’ve known him.

He seemed to be really fidgety too, like he was nervous. His eyes kept averting every which way, and when you asked if he was okay, he’d just say “‘M fine, darlin’.”

After dinner, Joel took you to your favorite street market where they had the best crepes. He ordered you both one to share, and luckily, you were able to capture the moment he had whipped cream on the corner of his mouth with a huge smile, looking so handsome under the warmth of the string lights above. You’d brought your digital camera with you just in case you wanted to capture memories like that one in particular.

After dessert, you and Joel took a stroll down to a little gazebo overlooking the creek. This time, though, you noticed there was rose petals on the ground that led to the gazebo. This couldn’t be for you and Joel, could it?

“I think someone decided to have their romantic evening here.” You laugh, and Joel closes his eyes in bliss at the sound, but also in nervousness as it coursed through every part of his being. Joel’s hand was in his pant pocket fidgeting with the velvet box restlessly.

“Let’s go see.” Joel pulled you gently into the direction of the gazebo.

“Joel, I don’t think—” You were cut short when he pulled you up on the platform, engulfing you in such a loving and heartfelt kiss. You were weak in the knees when he pulled apart, and the look in his soft, loving brown eyes held so much emotion you couldn’t even begin to comprehend. If it was anything similar to what you felt for him, then, well, you’d definitely have a clue.

“My sweetheart,” Joel started, taking a small step back as he intertwined both of his hands with your own. “Out of all the years I’ve known you, from when we were just teenagers until now, I’ve gotten the absolute privilege of get to know what a wonderful person you are. You’re so kind, caring, loving, and god, so patient. I always thought I’d never get to have a love like we do, but then just when I’d about given up on love, you walked into my life. You’re the love of my life; my soulmate; the one I want to spend the rest of my life with. I know bein’ with me hasn’t always been sunshine and rainbows, but you’ve loved me through and through nonetheless. I want to spend the rest of my waking days for the rest of our lives showing you and telling you what a beautiful soul you are and how much you mean to me.”

Tears were already in your eyes at his speech, and when he let go of one of your hands to dig out a velvet box from his pocket, you lost it. He got down on one knee, and with teary eyes and a hopeful smile, he asked you the big question.

“Will you marry me, sweetheart?” His voice trembled ever so slightly, and truthfully, you didn’t even look at the ring because you were nodding your head vigorously, tears flowing freely down your cheeks.

“Of course I’ll marry you, Joel.” You choked out, and he stood up again to slide the ring onto your finger, embracing you into a tight hug. You kissed him feverishly, raking your hands through his neatly done curls.

You sobbed against him, trembling from the adrenaline. He kissed the tears off of your cheeks and cupped your face with his hands.

“I love you so, so much darlin’.” He kissed the tip of your nose, and your hands moved to slink together around the back of his neck.

“I love you too.” You sniffled, pure bliss overtaking your features.

You stared into each other’s eyes for a few more seconds, not wanting anything to ruin the perfect moment. Right now, you two were the only ones that existed.

“Wait, let me take a picture.” You smiled softly at him, and he nodded in encouragement. You got your camera out of your purse, holding up your hand with your engagement ring. You sported a huge smile with teary eyes, and Joel kissed your temple as you snapped the photo. This was definitely a memory you both would never forget.

-

About a year later

The wedding was nearing in just twelve hours. Your parents had kindly offered their couple-acred backyard for the ceremony and reception which was perfect, because a small intimate wedding is exactly what you and Joel wanted.

“Can you believe in less than a day I’ll be able to call you Mrs. Miller?” Joel murmured into your shoulder, kissing your soft skin a couple of times before moving his gaze to you.

“It seems so surreal,” You caress his face, shifting your weight on top of him. “You’ll be my husband.” Your heart rate picked up at the thought, butterflies soaring through your stomach.

“I don’t wanna say goodbye for the night.” Joel fake pouts, embracing you even tighter. You’d been lazing with him in bed all day, enjoying each other’s company before you both had to get ready for your bachelor and bachelorette parties. Joel wanted nothing more than to just have a few beers with his brother and closest friends (which funnily enough included your father and brother) at the house, while your mom and sister were throwing you something cute and intimate at your parent’s house. Sarah was coming with, and although Joel was a little apprehensive, he figured he needed to loosen the reigns a bit. She was turning eighteen soon and heading off to college, so he figured if she was going to be around any ‘adult’ things, he’d rather it be with you.

“I don’t either, honey. But you’ll have fun tonight. Hopefully my dad doesn’t give you too much of a hard time.” You sweep the curls off of his forehead, and he grins at you.

“C’mon baby, you know your dad loves me… now.” He teases you incredulously, earning an eye roll from you.

“Yeah yeah, Miller. You and that damn Southern charm, hm?”

“Got you to where you are with me now, didn’t it sugar?” He rolls you both over, grinning boyishly down at you before moving to leave a trail of soft kisses down the pulse point on your neck.

You sigh in pleasure before gently grabbing his face and holding it before yours, “That’s right.” He leaned down to you to capture your lips with his, pleasuring you one last time before he can call you “wife.”

-

Today was the big day, and fuck were you nervous. Not nervous in the sense that you were getting cold feet, but it was moreso having multiple people’s eyes on you watching you walk up an aisle and marry the literal love of your life. Little anxieties also crept up as well, like tripping while walking down the aisle or not being able to say your vows correctly.

You were surrounded by your bridesmaids and your mom, as they were putting the finishing touches on you. You felt like a literal princess—you had the dress of your dreams, all of your family and friends around you on yours and Joel’s day, and the man of your dreams waiting for you at the end of the aisle.

“You look beautiful, honey.” Your mom said, holding you at arm’s length with tears in her eyes.

“Oh, mom.” You chuckle, bringing her in for a hug.

“I love you baby. I can’t believe you’re getting married today.”

“I can’t believe it either. It’s finally happening.” Tears start to form in your waterline, and Sarah fans your face.

“None of that! Can’t ruin your makeup.” She exasperates, making everyone laugh, though she had tears in her eyes herself.

“You ready, babydoll?” Your dad knocks on the door, pausing to take you in. A proud and sad smile forms on his lips. “My little girl. Can’t believe you’re gettin’ married today.” He sighs, and you move to give him a hug.

“You and mom are two peas in a pod.” You offer him a soft smile as your bridesmaids line up, moving downstairs to meet the groomsmen.

“Let’s get you married, babydoll.” He offers you his arm, which you take before you hear the music start to play—a soft, sweet melody to introduce the groomsmen and bridal party. Your dad led you down the stairs before Sarah and Tommy could walk down the aisle, and you took a deep breath. This was it.

The melody you chose for when you walked down the aisle started to play, and your dad led you to the beginning of the soft white runner. Your eyes immediately locked on Joel’s, who was already teary eyed with the widest smile on his face.

It’s like your feet were floating off the ground as you made your way to him. His tall and broad stature was clad in a crisp tux, hair neatly combed to the side, sporting an unwavering smile on his face. You kissed your dad on the cheek as he presented you to Joel, who took your arm carefully and led you to the very end of the aisle before the officiant.

Joel kissed you on the cheek, lips lingering by your ear for a second. “You look absolutely breathtakin’, my love.” He kisses your cheek one more time before standing straight up, looking down at you with nothing but love and pure adoration. Those big brown eyes that held a galaxy of emotions in them have captivated you for eternity. You smile up at him, tears forming in your eyes again.

“You all may be seated.” The officiant says, and you and Joel join hands as listen to his ‘we’re gathered here today’ speech. Truthfully, almost everything in the world was drowned out to you in this moment. It was just you and Joel.

“I believe the couple has agreed to exchange vows.” The officiant said, turning to Joel who curtly nods before clearing his throat. He gave your hands a small squeeze before smiling down at you.

“Sweetheart,” He starts, a slight nervous edge to his voice. “When we were just teenagers, all I could think about was how pretty you are every time I was around you. You always lit up a room without even trying. Always had me at a loss for words, which is why I never spoke much around you to begin with,” He chuckles, shaking his head. “Just like you lit up a room when we were measly teens, you did the same thing to my life once you walked right back in it all those years later. Though I never had the courage to ask you on a date in high school, I’d say things worked out pretty well considerin’ the fact.” The audience before you both laughed, and a happy tear slipped from your eyes.

“You’ve been such a light to not only me, but to Sarah and Tommy as well. Thank you for loving my girl like she’s your own. Thank you for teaching me such patience, making an honest man out of me, and provin’ me wrong when I thought I’d be alone for the rest of my life. You’ve changed my life for the better, have bewitched me body and soul, and there’s no one else I’d rather be standin’ up here with right now. It’s you, darlin’; it’s always been you. I vow to love you for eternity in this crazy thing called life, until my last dyin’ breath. Through thick and thin, trial and error. I love you, sweetheart.”

You wanted to sob like a baby at his words, but kept your composure as you sniffled and took a deep breath. The officiant turned to you, signaling it was your turn.

“If anyone told me four years ago that I’d be standing at this altar right now with the love of my life, I would’ve laughed right in their faces. I was so content with being independent and ready to give up on dating, until you showed up at that restaurant in all your glory. From that point on, you’ve turned my life around in the best way possible. You had me hooked from the start. You’ve been nothing but kind, supportive, nurturing, and most importantly, you showed me how to truly feel loved. I thought I knew what true love was before, until you proved me so wrong. I’ll spend the rest of my waking days thanking you forevermore. I was half the person before you came back into my life, and now I feel like you’ve made me whole again. You’re my person, Joel. My soulmate. I’m so grateful that that one blind date ended up not showing up, ultimately working out in my favor after all. Thanks Ma,” You glance at your mom, and everyone chuckles. “I love you, Joel Miller. Today, tomorrow, and for the rest of eternity.”

The glint in his eyes was nothing short of pure love, and you were certain they reflected the look in your own.

“Joel, repeat after me,” The officiant starts. “I, Joel Miller, take this woman to be my lawfully wedded wife.”

Joel repeats his exact words, gaze never wavering from yours.

“I promise to love you for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to have and to hold for as long as we both shall live.”

He repeats the words once again.

The officiant says your name, and tells you to repeat after him.

“I take Joel Miller to be my lawfully wedded husband. I promise to love you for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to have and to hold for as long as we both shall live.”

Joel pulls you closer to him, wrapping his arm around your waist. The ring bearer presents the rings, and you slide Joel’s ring onto his finger. He replicates your actions as he slides your ring onto your ring finger, giving your hand a small squeeze.

“By the power vested in me and the state of Texas, I now pronounce you as husband and wife. Mr. Miller, you may kiss your bride.”

Finally.

Joel wastes no time as he dips you down softly, kissing you so gently yet passionately. You had your hands wrapped around the back of his shoulders, clinging onto him as he continued to kiss you. The guests cheered for you both, and he pulled away to murmur “I love you, Mrs. Miller” against your lips. Heat flooded your body at your new name.

Mrs. Miller.

Mrs. Miller.

“I love you too, Mr. Miller.” You reply breathlessly, a tear slipping down your cheek. Joel was quick to wipe it away as he stood you upright again, pecking your lips softly.

“Why are you cryin’, baby?”

“I’m just so happy. I love you. I love you so much.” You cup his face, kissing him again. You nearly forgot about the people that were watching you both in this intimate moment, so you shuffled back a little until he grasped your hand and you both made your way down the aisle.

You stepped back into your parent’s house with Joel, both of you laughing breathlessly. You take a second to stop and look into his eyes, enjoying your first moment alone as husband and wife.

“I’m the luckiest woman in the world to be able to call you my husband.” You murmur, running your hands up his biceps.

“I think you got it twisted, sweetheart. I’m the lucky one. I’ll remind you of that every single day until it’s my last.”

-

The next day, you and Joel hopped on a flight to Hawaii. As a wedding present, your parents gifted you an all-inclusive trip to a beautiful resort. The only thing your mom said when you asked her how you could repay her was ‘give me some grand babies!’

So that’s why Joel carried you over the threshold to your resort room just mere minutes ago. You made your way to the balcony which overlooked the resort, and the Pacific Ocean. After Joel got the bags from the bell hop, he caged your body between the balcony and his own.

“It’s so beautiful.” You whisper, nodding your head out to the ocean. The bright sun was glistening down on the ocean, making it sparkle.

“Not as beautiful as you, darlin’.”

You huff a laugh at Joel’s words. “Ever the sweet talker, Mr. Miller.”

“Only for you, Mrs. Miller.”

You turn around so you’re facing Joel, a beaming smile on your face.

“I’ll never get tired of hearing that name.” You reach up and run your fingers through Joel’s soft hair, hands knitting together at the base of his head.

“Good, ‘cus I’ll never get tired of saying it,” He pulls you in for a soft kiss, cradling your face gently. “Now c’mon baby. Let’s get ready for dinner.” He ushers you back inside, and you rummage through your luggage that you brought for a pretty, bright colored dress to wear to dinner.

You spent a bit of time doing your hair and makeup, wanting to make sure you looked good. You wanted to make yourself irresistible to Joel, because you’ve been secretly pining to have your hands all over each other. You both held out last night and didn’t have sex, mainly because you both were dead tired.

Joel had the same thing in mind when he got dressed for this dinner in some khaki pants and a white linen shirt, leaving the first few buttons undone. He was planning on having some mind-blowing sex with you, and he was getting restless just thinking about it. He had to keep himself in check though and remind himself that you both also came here to enjoy the romantic side of being newlyweds. All those thoughts went straight out of the window and drowned in the Pacific when you stepped out of the bathroom.

He couldn’t tear his eyes away—you were simply the most breathtaking woman. The dress you’d put on hugged your curves, and with slits that exposed most of your legs, it made Joel even weaker. He wanted to drop to his knees now and worship the ground you walked on. Your makeup enhanced your features more than it usually would, but it looked stunning. You had a certain glow to yourself that Joel couldn’t get enough of.

You felt the same way about him, too. You stopped in your tracks when your eyes landed on the man you loved, khaki pants fitting him perfectly with the white linen shirt that purposefully had a few buttons undone. The white cloth contrasted beautifully against his smooth, tan skin. The shirt clung to his biceps in the right places, easily showcasing the muscle that he had. He was wearing nice brown boots too, which added an inch or so to his height. You could feel yourself nearly drooling, panties dampening the longer your stared at him. He looked delicious. You almost wanted to cancel dinner and just jump his bones right then and there.

“You look…” He trailed off, moving to stand in front of you.

“Yeah, you too.” You said breathlessly, and you both chuckle.

“Let’s get outta here. Dinner starts soon.” Joel takes your hand after double checking he has the room key card, and you both make your way downstairs.

Dinner ended up being really delicious with a beautiful show, and to your surprise, Joel asked you to dance with him after. Joel wasn’t much of a dancer, and this wasn’t slow dancing. This was more like being in a club, so he had your body pressed up against his and your back met his front. His strong hands held your hips firmly as you swayed them to the beat of the song, and Joel could feel himself getting harder by the minute.

Truthfully, you were grinding yourself on him to tease him, but he knew exactly what game you were playing at so he did the same to you. You nearly moaned as he pulled you into him, the feeling of his hardness evident through his pants. Usually, you’d both be stubborn to see who would break first, but you couldn’t wait anymore. You spun around in his arms, eyes filled with lust and body buzzing with sexual tension.

“Joel,” The tone in your voice was surprisingly not as needy as you expected it to be. He looked down at you, eyes nearly black as he studied your features. “Let’s go upstairs.”

He didn’t need another word of confirmation as he clasped your hand and practically dragged you up to your room. You had to nearly jog as his long strides to the room didn’t let up. He fumbled with the key card, opening the door to the room swiftly before you both stumbled inside. He wasted no time as he tossed the key card and his wallet onto a table near the front door, grabbing your face and smashing his lips to yours. He pushed you up against the door, moaning into your mouth. Your hands found purchase in his soft curls, tugging teasingly.

He moved his hands to the back of your thighs, signaling you to jump. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he caught you, bringing you over to the bed. You traced his neck with hot, wet, needy kisses before he set you down. He released you, and looked down at you as he towered over you. The look in his eyes was very telling that you two weren’t going to get very much sleep tonight.

Your chest was heaving up and down, body nearly trembling with need as Joel loomed over you, taking you in. You reached out for him, wanting to feel his body on top of yours. He happily obliged as he slotted himself between your legs, caressing your cheek before kissing you again. Your hands trailed down the front of his chest, nails slightly scraping his hot skin. You unbuttoned the rest of his shirt before discarding it onto the floor. You ran your needy hands all over him until they made their way down to his belt buckle.

Joel chuckled at your eagerness before pushing your hands away. You protested with a small whine before he nipped at your neck, just below your ear. “Let me take care of you first, darlin’.”

Joel slid the dress slowly up and over your head, making sure to trail his hands over all of your curves as he did so. He moaned at the sight of the pretty white lace set you had on for him.

“All for me baby?” He asks, dipping his head to kiss the soft flesh of your breasts right above the bra you were wearing.

“Yes.” You’re breathless. It would be embarrassing to you in any other instance, but fuck’s sake, you needed your husband desperately.

Joel’s eyes trail down your torso until they settle on the thin white lace underwear that covered you. His hooded eyes looked back up to yours as he rubbed circles into your thighs.

“I promised myself I’d say my vows twice. Once at the altar, and once with just my tongue buried in your pretty pussy. Word. For. Word."

You gasped at Joel's bluntness, feeling your arousal pooling quicker into the only thing that separated you from his sweet tongue. You stared at him, doe-eyed and wanting, just waiting for him to take the leap. Maybe you should make the first move. Your arms could move quicker than your brain could process your own actions, and you started to reach out for him.

"Mm mm, baby." Joel stops you, grabbing both of your wrists in one of his hands, holding them above your head.

"Fuck." You whine softly, hips involuntarily bucking up into nothing.

He wickedly grins at you as he moves down to kiss you, easily moving his free hand to cup your mound before pressing his thumb to your extremely sensitive clit. You inhale sharply at the feeling, instinctively closing your eyes.

"Look at me, baby. Wanna see those pretty eyes on me when I make you feel good." Joel's voice is soft and loving, but has a stern edge to it. Your eyes peel open to look at him as he moves the thin lace of your panties to the side. He looks down, seeing you already covered in your slick. He groans at the sight and takes his middle finger, swiping up and between your folds. He moves his slick-covered finger to his mouth, eagerly tasting you. He hums in pleasure, and you can see clear as day that he's rock solid in his khakis.

He releases your wrists from his hand, but you don't dare to move. He skates his hands down your body gently, kissing your soft flesh along the way before grabbing either side of your panties. He gently taps your hips, so you lift them up for him as he slides the white lace down your legs. He discards them somewhere on the floor behind him, his focus solely on you.

He maneuvers his face between your legs, biting some spots on your inner thighs softly before kissing the spot after. He continued to move at a slow, torturous pace, making his way up to your aching pussy.

"My beautiful wife. I love you." He says, and you run your fingers through his hair as you look down at him.

"I love you t-oh," You start, but were cut off by Joel poking his tongue out to circle your clit, dragging it down to your entrance, then back up again. "Fuck!" You gasp, gripping his hair slightly. He moaned into you as he got to work, and god, he wasn't fucking kidding when he said he'd say his vows twice. His tongue moved slowly, carefully finding a rhythm that drove you insane.

You started to grind your hips upward, writhing beneath him. He hummed into you, moving a hand to press down on your abdomen to keep you from moving.

Joel shifted himself in the slightest to bring his ring and middle finger up, slowly entering you as his skillful tongue never broke contact. A broken cry left your mouth, eyebrows threaded together and breathing labored. His tongue flicked your clit continuously as his fingers languidly pumped in and out of you, reaching that sweet spot every single time. If he kept this up, you knew you wouldn't last long.

You felt the crescendo of your orgasm building up rather quickly, heat in your lower abdomen tight with anticipation. Both of your hands flew into Joel’s hair when the his hand on your abdomen pressed down, applying more pressure. He truly went to work on you and ate you like a starved man, not letting up once. He wanted you to come all over the lower half of his face, wanted to feel your legs shake as you cried out his name for mercy.

And oh, what Joel wanted, he got.

Your orgasm rushed over you, internal flames licking you from your head to your toes. Joel lapped you up, fingers slowing down until they came to a halt. He pulled them out of you slowly, but his tongue was unforgiving as he kept slurping and licking at your sensitive heat. Your body jerked in overstimulation, trying to wriggle away from him, but he clamped his hands down firmly on your hips.

“Jesus Christ, Joel– f-fuuuuck.” You whined loudly, tears springing to your eyes. Just as quickly as your first orgasm came, a second one was already building up. Joel felt it with the way your body was tensing, and to add to the pleasure this time, he moved his tongue down to dip inside of you, moving at a deliciously torturous pace. He moaned against you, feeling you flutter around his tongue. He brought a thumb over one of your thighs, rubbing tight circles over your clit.

If you thought you were seeing the stars above before, you were seeing the whole fucking galaxy this time around.

“C’mon sweetheart, give it t’me. Let me see my beautiful wife cum on my face again.” His dirty words came and went quickly as he got right back to tongue fucking you, your release right on the edge.

You moaned so loudly as your second orgasm coiled tightly and snapped like a cable right through you, your whole body shaking with pleasure as Joel’s name rolled off your tongue like a prayer on Sundays. Joel cleaned you up once more, kissing your oversensitive pussy before dragging himself upwards. Pure lust clouded his eyes and his overall expression. His pupils were blown, eyes seemingly’ve gotten darker.

He moves a hand up to tug your chin down. “Open your mouth.” His demanding tone sent tingles down your spine, only adding fuel to the fire. You obey him immediately, and he spits directly into your mouth.

“Swallow.” Was all he said, and you complied. Your eyes nearly rolled to the back of your head with how dominating he was being right now. You tasted yourself as you swallowed what he’d given you, eyes glossy as you awaited his next move. He stood up from the bed briefly, only to discard his shoes, pants, and boxers.

His erection sprung free and hit his torso, precum smearing as his tip was leaking and begging to be touched.

“My handsome husband.” You praised, only mirroring his words of affection to you earlier. He offered you a soft smile, climbing over you again. He rested his elbows on either side of you, face hovering mere inches above yours.

“Tell me now, baby. Do you want to make sweet love? Or do you want to be fucked roughly? You choose.” You laugh softly that he’s giving you an option, but there was all the time in the world for sweet love making on this trip. You wanted to be fucked senseless and take advantage of this domineering side of Joel.

“The latter, baby. Into oblivion.” You flash him a wicked smile, and that’s all you need for him to get off of you and reposition you so you both were facing the mirror that hung on the wall.

“Want you to see yourself getting fucked, sweetheart.” His voice is dangerously low. He climbs onto the bed as you arch your back, giving Joel a perfect view of your plump ass. He leaned down to kiss you on one cheek, before his hand cracked down on the other, giving it a fairly harsh slap. You gasped, eyes wide and mouth agape as you stared at his hungry expression in the mirror. The sting of the slap only added to your arousal, making your toes curl in the slightest.

“You ready, darlin’?” He asks, rubbing your ass tenderly. You nod in the mirror, but he shakes his head.

“Words, honey. Lemme hear you.” He presses, and you swallow thickly.

“I’m ready Joel. Please, fuck me.” Your begging alone nearly made him come undone, but he sucked in a breath as he positioned himself with your slick entrance.

He grabbed your hips, sliding into you with ease, courtesy of your arousal. You both moaned loudly, being filled up from this position always hitting deeper than usual. Joel’s cock felt heavy inside you as he gave you a minute to adjust to him. After all these years together, it still took a little time to adjust to his size. In doing so, this was the first time you both didn’t use any form of protection, so you could feel every single ridge and vein on his swollen member.

Joel had to concentrate on not cumming right there as he was buried in your tight warmth. The feeling of no protection was heavenly. You started to move your hips forward, giving him a silent signal he was good to go.

Joel moved almost all the way out of you, before snapping his hips forward to fill you completely again. You cried out at the pleasure as he set an unrelenting pace, fucking you senseless into the mattress.

“Look so fuckin’ pretty getting fucked dumb on my cock like this, sweetheart.” Joel grits, voice strained with pleasure.

“Feels—” You gasp for air, choking your words out. “Feels s’good. Y’feel so good, Joel. So good.” You praise him, fists clenching the fabric of the white comforter beneath you.

“Eyes up here, honey.” He moved a hand away from your hip to wrap around the front of your throat, pulling you up while applying the tiniest bit of pressure. Your eyes met his in the mirror, and you’d truly never seen such a pornographic sight in reality. You both looked so fucked out, so ravenous, so hungry and desperate for each other as his hips collided with your ass at an unrelenting, brutal pace.

Joel had an idea to add more pleasure to the mix, but it was borderline teetering a limit for you. You told Joel awhile ago that you’d try anything (well, almost anything) once, and if you didn’t like it, you’d let him know. He knew what he was about to do was truly obscene and filthy, but it was worth a shot. He moved his hand up your jaw and ran his thumb over your bottom lip, tugging at it. His thumb made its way into your mouth and you eagerly sucked on it, giving him the lubrication he was seeking. After a minute, he let his thumb out of your mouth with a small pop.

He looked into your eyes through the mirror, and then looked down, where your other hole was completely exposed to him. He was hesitant for a moment, but bit the bullet and spit right onto it. Your eyes widened and you gasped, wondering what the hell he was going to do… but then it clicked. He moved his hand down to your ass, resting it tenderly on your cheek as his thumb swiped over his spit there.

“Can I? If it feels like too much you can tell me to stop.” He said, thumb hovering right over the spot you both became so curious about. You trusted Joel and knew he’d never do anything to intentionally hurt you.

What the hell, you thought. Worst thing that could happen is you tell him to stop. You nodded slowly, and heat rose to your cheeks as he kept bucking his hips into you. His face displayed pure concentration, eyebrows threaded together as he slowly pushed his thumb into you. It felt really odd at first, but that bit of pressure alongside the weight of his cock pounding into you was pure fucking bliss. Your pussy clenched down on him, and you both moaned in unison once more.

After Joel gained his full concentration back, he used his other free hand to wrap around your throat once more. You couldn’t believe how much Joel was holding back before you two got married, because fuck, this was truly some of the most mind blowing sex you’ve ever had.

The only sounds heard in the room was his hips slapping into your ass repeatedly, the wet squelching noise of you taking him so well, and your heavy breathing mixed with a couple of scattered moans. Your head was completely empty from every thought you’d ever had, except for Joel. Your mind was just Joel Joel Joel.

“Fuck, baby, you feel so fucking good around me. You were made for this cock,” Joel groans. “I’m gettin’ close.”

He moved his hand from your throat down to your clit, rubbing tight circles again. You cry out at the sensation, one of your hands moving to grip Joel’s forearm. You dug your nails into him unintentionally, causing him to hiss. He truthfully didn’t mind the slight pain that it brought though.

“Fuck Joel, I’m gonna cum.” You choke out, and he moans in response.

“Me too, baby. Y’gonna cum with me?” He rasps, but before you could even answer, you were clenching down on him as your orgasm shot through you once more.

“Fuck, sweetheart, where do you want me?” He asks, his own release just seconds away. He removed his thumb from you to steady himself against you with his hands, his face contorting into absolute pleasure.

“In me, please, baby– fuck.” Bliss takes over the course of your whole being as you cry out his name. A string of curses comes out of his own mouth, mixed with your own name, as he painted your insides with his seed. Your eyes were trained on him the whole time, so turned on by your husband blissed out because of you, that it elongated your orgasm. Your legs were shaky and done for as he stopped moving completely, his tan chest rising and falling rapidly to catch his breath. He wrapped his arms around your torso as he slowly pulled out, making you groan at the loss of fullness.

He brought you down on the mattress with him, tucking your head gently beneath his chin. You both spent a few minutes trying to catch your breaths, enjoying the peacefulness of being wrapped into each others arms.

“You did so good for me. I love you, baby girl.” Joel kisses the crown of your head, thumb stroking a spot on your arm softly.

“That was incredible, my love. Didn’t know you were holding back on me.” You chuckle as you kiss his chest, nails scratching his beard.

He huffs a laugh, clasping his hand around your wrist gently. He kissed the palm of your hand, resting it over his heart when he was done.

“I’m so fuckin’ happy, darlin’. So happy I get to call you my wife, and so happy I get to spend the rest of my life with you. I love you so, so much.”

You tear up at his kind words, pulling his face down for a sweet kiss.

“I love you too, my sweet husband. Forever and always.”

You’ve thought it and said it a million times before, and you’ll think it and say it a million times again—the universe really had a funny way of aligning things in life.

It really was fate, after all.

[spacemagicandlaserswords]

Feral Hunter

I wrote most of this in a reblog but thought it deserved its own post as my unwieldy response took on a life of its own, which they have a tendency to do. I’ve added more to it as well so there’s some new extra ramblings on one of my favourite ideas/headcanons/theories for season 3 of The Bad Batch. 

Give me Feral Hunter. My kingdom for Feral Hunter. Completely unhinged, vengeance fueled, feral Hunter. He can go on his Joel Miller/The Mandalorian/John Wick/Liam Neeson in Taken/The Punisher arc, as a little treat.

I've been trying to figure out why I love this idea so much. I think it's because we never really see any of the Batch actually, properly unleash. Sure, they're unconventional and a bit bonkers in their approach but they're still a very well-oiled machine. When they're on a mission, they all know exactly what they're doing, what their roles are, and where their squad mates are. Even when they improvise on the fly, they all adapt fairly easily and smoothly. Everything is still all rather professional, smooth, and efficient. Like they're all operating on muscle memory, which they basically are given how many countless times I'm sure they've trained and done missions together.

Even when the Batch is fighting their way through Kamino, they still operate with that same smooth, efficient, hyper competent professionalism. Despite their unorthodox approach, there's still this sense that they're contained. Never throwing off the shackles and being completely unrestrained. The full unbridled force of their abilities and skills simmering just below the surface, waiting to be given free rein and just obliterate everything.

There's a little hint of this in the opening scene of episode 2x14 'Tipping Point', where the ARC Trooper in Echo comes out to play. But oh, how I would love to see more. From all of them, but especially Hunter. 

Look at his face. Look at that expression and all those emotions from Sergeant Stoic himself, who is usually fairly reserved and contained. Dorito Bod Bandana Space Dad on the warpath to get his ad'ika back, cutting a swathe through the Imperials, leaving a trail of bodies in his wake, and taking out anything and everything that even thinks about getting in his way. Hunter goes full Space Rambo mode, ruthlessly taking out Stormtroopers, blood dripping off his vibroblade, eyes wide and deranged, as he turns into a complete animal. His half tattooed skull now completed by the blood of his enemies covering the other side of his face. For extra angst, when he finds Omega, she doesn’t recognise him. The figure standing in the smoking remains of the door to her cell looks like Hunter. Is wearing Hunter’s armour. Is holding Hunter’s vibroknife. But that’s not Hunter. That’s not her buir. Not anymore. And she’s afraid of him. We get a little hint of this at the very end of season 2 and oh ho ho, I am so ready for more. I am so ready for Hunter’s descent into vengeance, revenge and rage. Not just Hunter either, I’d love to see the rest of the Batch unleash as well.

Can you just imagine Wrecker properly unleashing? All of that strength and power finally freed as he rips limbs off Stormtroopers, snapping necks and crushing skulls with his bare hands. The crumpled, pulverised bodies of his enemies discarded behind him as he rages down corridor after corridor of whatever Imperial base they’ve infiltrated. We got a hint of how damaging Wrecker can be when his chip activated but that was chip controlled. This would just be pure Wrecker. 

We see a little more of this in Crosshair's actions and you could also argue that this is chip controlled. Or if his chip has actually been removed, then Crosshair’s actions are definitely still clouded by his Imperial mindset and blind delusion that the Empire is right. Right up until it all goes horribly wrong on Barton-4 and he finally wakes up to the reality of his nightmare. Either way, that unrestrained part of him is still there. The amount of rage and anger that must be building up and festering inside Crosshair is eventually going to explode. When he snaps like he did at the end of 'The Outpost' then there isn’t going to be an Imperial left without a blaster bolt between their eyes. When Hemlock ends up dying (he better), my bet is on Crosshair taking him out and getting revenge. And it won't be pretty. He'd shoot him execution style at the very least. 

I'd love to see Tech (shut up he's alive) completely lose it and finally snap off every ounce of his carefully crafted control. I've written about this before but Tech's combat is exceptionally efficient and precise. He only ever uses the minimum number of shots or moves to take out an enemy because he doesn't need to expend anything beyond what is necessary. Complete economy of form. His combat style is very contained, almost like a mirror of his personality and character. Can you just imagine him snarling and growling like a beast, teeth bared, eyes dark, face distorted in rage, as he slams a Stormtrooper's head into a control panel desk with enough force to crack their helmet and shatter their visor. 

I mentioned above that we've seen a tiny bit of this slightly unhinged quality from Echo. There's another little hint of it when they're all in that training simulation on Kamino.

This gifset from @starqueensthings shows this perfectly, especially the above gif. I love the line they wrote at the top of their post as well, which I'm going to quote in part here: "I’d like to introduce my scomp arm TO YOUR JUGULAR WIRE." This perfectly encapsulates the unhinged quality lurking in Echo. He just leaps onto the back of what looks like the Kaminoan version of a B2 super battle droid and then proceeds to flail and stab madly before plunging his scomp arm into the battle droid's chest and ripping out the droid version of its jugular. Absolutely unhinged behaviour. The absolute madlad.

Now picture Echo finally snapping and doing this to a bunch of Imperials and just absolutely annihilating them. There is so much in him that is screaming to be let out. The general batshittery that comes with being an ARC Trooper. The insanity and chaos of coming from the 501st and Torrent Company. The unconventional, yeet-the-reg-manual-out-the-airlock, bonkers existence of The Bad Batch. Plus all that trauma, fury and rage of what has happened to him, what was done to him, and everything that he’s seen, experienced, endured, suffered, and survived. When the last few frayed threads holding Echo back finally snap he is going to go completely postal.

Is it healthy? No. Is it "good"? Probably not. But my god, would I love to see it.

The Clone Wars has a history of tackling and portraying difficult, multilayered and nuanced topics and we've seen that in The Bad Batch as well. More recent Star Wars series, such as Andor and The Mandalorian, have also had a real interest in showing the murky areas that exist between the good (Republic) and the bad (Imperial). There's been a particular focus on showing that there's a lot more grey than we think, rather than the pure dichotomy between cliched black and white. That sometimes there is no right or wrong decision. That sometimes everything is awful and everyone is stuck in a shitty situation from which there is no way to escape unscathed. In order to make it out alive, lines are going to be crossed. The battle of good vs evil takes on a new edge and the line between good and bad gets very murky.

That quote about how “You either die a hero or live long enough to see yourself become the villain” comes to mind. In this instance, the Batch are still fighting tooth and nail for each other but their sacrifices and actions are starting to take them to much darker places. It’s a classic example of good people being driven to do bad, awful, terrible things when those they love are in danger and they will do whatever it takes to save them.  

The whole 'deeply flawed parental figure seeking vengeance' is a popular trope at the moment as well so Feral Hunter would make sense narratively for a number of reasons.

Will we actually get it? Probably not. And even if we do, it'll probably still be a watered-down kid friendly version.

But oh, just imagine if we did.

[justagalwhowrites]

Lavender No Outbreak AU - Ch. 5

The Miller family grows. The final part of the Lavender No Outbreak AU, continued from Ch. 1-4 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Smut :), Some slurs (anti-LGBTQIA+ - they are immediately rebuked). No use of Y/N. Minors DNI, 18+ only.

Length: 4.3k

Tuesday, September 14, 2021 

“Hey Doc?” Jess slid up beside you at the nurses station where you were reviewing charts. “That one kid from Boston is here for the trial? She’s that special case?” 

“Oh right,” you said. “God, thank you for reminding me. Swear I’d lose my head if it wasn’t attached this week, I’m just all over the map.” 

You’d been scrambling for weeks to get everything in place for the first clinical trial the hospital was facilitating since the COVID-19 pandemic. You hadn’t fully realized just how much the pandemic had taken out of you before that, just how much had changed. 

It was like you’d been in total crisis mode for a year, all the time. It had damn near fried your brain. You basically lived at the hospital. When you were home, you slept in the garage, where Joel had set up a cot and TV and a loveseat, too afraid of getting him or Evie sick to go in the house. You smiled at your husband and daughter through glass, wanting more than anything to just touch them. The second everyone was vaccinated, Joel held you for hours, clinging to you like a man at sea clings to a life raft. 

It was so hard, now, to do anything normal. Your mind kept scattering, trying to find the crisis that needed solving first before it could do anything like planning or building things out. Arranging the trial had been an uphill slog. 

“What’s this kid’s name again?” You asked. 

“Ellie,” she replied. “She’s a character, I think you’ll like her.” 

Jess knocked once on the door to the hospital room and opened it. Inside was a small girl, maybe 12, playing a video game on the TV. Something where she was shooting zombies. You smiled a little. She paused it. 

“Hi Ellie,” Jess smiled. “I wanted to introduce you to Dr. Miller, she’s going to be running your trial and the lead doctor on your case.” 

“Hi Ellie,” you smiled. She looked you up and down. 

“Hi,” she said. “So you’re the one who’s going to go poking around with my blood and junk?” 

“Yup,” you popped the p. “We’re going to run some tests, steal as much blood of yours as we can to feed the vampires in the basement, and then hopefully get you so that you’re not coming in and dealing with people like me quite so much. Sound good?” 

She considered you seriously. 

“You really think you can make a difference?” She asked. “Because going to the hospital all the time is kind of bullshit.” 

You laughed a little. 

“Yeah, that must get old real quick,” you said. “And it’s probably not fun having to give up your blood and stuff all the time, huh?” 

“Yeah, that part really sucks,” she slumped back in her pillows.

You frowned, getting the sense that she wanted to say something else. 

“Want to tell me all the stuff that sucks about it?” You asked, coming and sitting on the edge of her bed. “I might be able to help.” 

“Can you help find me parents who will deal with taking me to the hospital all the time if this doesn’t work?” She asked. “Because I’m pretty sure having a broken kid is a deal breaker when the people who want to adopt someone start shopping around.” 

Your heart broke a little in that moment. Her face was hard, her small chin jutting out defiantly, but she was hurting. You knew she was.

“Well if they wouldn’t take care of you when you’re not feeling well, they’re not the kinds of parents you’d want anyway,” you said. 

“How would you know?” She muttered. 

“I don’t have parents either,” you shrugged. She looked at you, skeptical. “And not just because I’m old. I never had parents, my dad left before I was born and my mom left two months after she had me. It sucks, I get it. 

“But trust me, there are a lot of parents I see in here who are good and a lot who aren’t. And the not good ones? It’s better to have no parents than them,” you said. “So really, you just have built in protection. Immunity from the extra crappy parents.” 

She laughed once. 

“Maybe I should keep the screwed up blood then,” she said. 

“Nah, think we’ll fix that,” you said. “Make sure you’re all set and ready to take it easy once you’re a grown up. Just give all the potential parents a really tough questionnaire. See if you can trip them up. You seem smart, I think you can weed them out with enough practice. OK?” 

“OK,” she half smiled at you. 

The rest of the day went by and your mind kept drifting back to Ellie. You grabbed Jess on her way down to the cafeteria. 

“Hey,” you said quickly. “Ellie, where is she staying while she’s here for the trial?” 

“One of the group homes,” she said. “It’s not ideal but it’s the only arrangement we could come up with and the trial would be really good for her…” 

You nodded slowly and thanked her before ducking outside and calling Joel. 

“Hey Baby,” he answered. You were almost surprised. His contracting business had picked up quite a bit in recent years and he spent most of his days running from job site to job site to manage progress. He couldn’t always answer the phone on the job.

“I know you’re busy so I’ll make it quick,” you said. “How would you feel about becoming foster parents?” 

Tuesday, October 5, 2021 

You got your third daughter for your 43rd birthday. 

Jess had helped speed you and Joel through the process to get approved to take her home, Sarah almost strangely OK with you dismantling her old room to make it something Ellie would like, excited about getting her new sister.

You’d given Ellie your tablet one day during lunch, letting her go on Amazon and pick out bedding and decorations for her room. You’d had to transfer care for her to another doctor - though she still got to stick with the trial - but it was worth it. 

She and Joel became such fast friends it almost made your head spin. You introduced the two one day when he came by to meet you for lunch. Ellie was playing her zombie game and he asked if he could join in. 

“Don’t want you dragging my stats down,” she said. 

“Think I can keep up,” he replied. She looked skeptical but handed him the second controller, anyway. Joel, you were happy to say, did surprisingly well. He even tallied more kills than Ellie did. 

“No way,” she said. “We’re trading controllers, mine doesn’t work right.” 

“Tellin’ ya,” he said. “Nothin’ to do with the controller and everything to do with how you handle the scenario…” 

He traded controllers anyway. He bested her a second time, shrugging with a slight smile. 

“You dick!” She laughed. He laughed back. 

When you left the room he put his hands in his back pockets and sighed. 

“Can’t let her go to a group home,” he said. “Just throw her in the car and bring ‘er home, fuck the rules.” 

You kissed him, not sure you’d ever loved him more. 

“Oh cool, you didn’t say you had a pool!” She ran to the sliding glass door, pressing her nose against it before looking back at you. “Can you teach me to swim?” 

“Sure,” you smiled. “Might be a little cold to now but…” 

“Think I can handle it,” she replied. 

You showed her around the house, introduced her to Evie, left her to settle into her room and sat next to Joel on the couch. 

“Happy birthday, Baby,” he kissed your temple. “Been a good one?” 

“Oh cool!” Ellie stuck her head into the hall. “There’s a freaking telescope in here?” 

She ran back into her room. 

You smiled.

“Pretty damn good.” 

***

Tuesday, August 29, 2023 

Joel wasn’t exactly thrilled to get a call from Ellie’s school when they’d barely been back a week. 

“Mr. Miller,” the woman on the phone said. “I’m afraid we couldn’t reach your wife but Ellie has been fighting at school…” 

“On my way,” he replied, yelling instructions to Tommy as he jogged to his truck. 

He wasn’t quite sure what to do here. Sarah and Evie had hardly been scrappy girls. Sure, they had some behavioral issues here and there - Evie got into the bad habit of sneaking out of the house her senior year of high school, something that worried both you and Joel to no end. 

But neither of them had ever thrown a punch. 

At least, as far as he knew. 

Ellie, strangely, was more like him than either of his biological daughters. He saw it when she played her video games, the way she got worked up and invested in them. He saw it when she noticed some kind of injustice and stomped off to try to handle it herself, resorting almost immediately to physical solutions instead of trying to talk it out. Joel understood her better than you did. 

But even though Ellie was on the scrappy side, he doubted she’d have started hitting someone unless she had a damn good reason. He just needed to figure out what it was. 

You pulled into the parking lot behind him, parking alongside his truck. 

“Hey Baby,” he pulled you in for a quick kiss. “They said they couldn’t reach you.” 

“Yeah, I was closing when they called,” you replied. “I got the message only a few minutes later and just got changed and ran over… There has to be a reason, right? I mean, Ellie is Ellie but she wouldn’t hit someone without a damn good reason.” 

He smiled a little at you. 

“Told you lately that I fuckin’ love you?” He asked. “Because I fuckin’ love you.” 

You led the way into the building, beelining for the administration offices. Joel recognized the look in your eyes. It was the look you got when something had pissed you off and you were going to fix it, come hell or high water. 

It was a look that had made you advance at the hospital, knowing exactly when to use your tenacity to go after something you thought needed to change, knowing exactly how to go about it to make it happen. Whether it was making nice with the right people or going scorched earth, you always seemed to find the right way to navigate it. 

Joel almost felt sorry for the staff as you walked into the office. He knew your scorched earth look when he saw it. 

“Hi,” you said. “We’re the Millers, Ellie Williams’ parents. We were told she was here?” 

“Of course,” the woman led the two of you back to a counselor’s office. 

Ellie was sitting in the corner, arms crossed, her eye black. She looked pissed, like she was on the verge of tears.

“Oh Baby Girl,” Joel went and dropped to his knee in front of her, taking his face in his hand. “Who hit you?” 

“Stupid girl,” she muttered. 

“Mr. and Mrs. Miller,” the counselor smiled tightly. “I’m afraid we have a problem here.” 

“Yes,” you said, not taking the woman’s outstretched hand. “I’m afraid we do. Is there a reason my daughter clearly hasn’t been to the nurse’s office? She doesn’t have an ice pack for her eye, who knows what other injuries she might have…” 

“Well, the girl Ellie hit is in the nurse’s office now,” the woman responded, defensive. “We can send Ellie down after…” 

“No need,” you replied. “She’ll be coming home with us until we can establish whether or not your school can provide competent care for our child.” 

“Well, your child hit another student,” she said. “In front of several teachers. She threw the first punch. The first several, actually…” 

“She started it!” Ellie yelled. You gave her a look and she sat back in her chair, muttering. “Well, she did….” 

“Did you talk to this other girl?” You asked the counselor, eyebrows raised. “Or did you just blame my child because she’s newer to the district and in foster care?” 

“I can assure you, Ellie’s status had nothing to do…” 

“Ellie,” you turned to her. “Why did you hit the other girl?” 

She looked at you for a second before looking to Joel, her eyes pleading. 

“Come on, Baby Girl,” he said. “You have to tell us what happened or we can’t help you.” 

“It… it involves bad words,” she glanced at the counselor. 

“You can say them,” Joel said, looking at the counselor too, all but daring her to try to tell him otherwise. 

Ellie sighed. 

“She called my friend Riley a dyke,” she looked to the floor. “Said she was going to burn in hell…” 

“And that’s when you hit her?” You asked, voice calm. 

“No,” Ellie looked up. “Then she said that she wanted to kill all the dykes to send them to hell faster. Then I hit her.” 

Joel felt his blood get hot. Didn’t matter that it was toward another teenager, Joel wanted someone to hurt. He glanced to you, your jaw squared, and you looked back toward the counselor. 

“So you just let children in your school use genocidal language toward other students?” You asked. 

“Mrs. Miller…” 

“It’s Dr. Miller, actually,” you cut her off. “Since you apparently didn’t bother to look in Ellie’s file and see what her foster mother does for a living, I’ll fill you in. I’m the chief of pediatric surgery for the largest hospital system in Austin which means I know every single social worker in the county. I’ve treated the children of some of the most powerful people in the state because they seek me out. I am more than willing to call in every single favor that I have - which I promise is a lot - and leverage every single cent I own to personally destroy you and everyone in this district who allows such behavior to run unchecked. I will orchestrate a PR nightmare so thorough you won’t recover for years. You will have to beg Ronald McDonald for a job slinging fries by the time I’m done with you, do you understand me?” 

The woman glanced at Joel who just shrugged. He wasn’t about to help her. She was lucky she was dealing with you, you were just threatening her livelihood. He was tempted to threaten her life.  

“If you want to keep your job,” you said. “You’re going to investigate this incident as thoroughly as possible. You are going to remove that other girl from this school before she hurts anyone else. You are going to institute new training procedures so your faculty and staff know how to handle incidents with LGBTQ students because, apparently, that needs some improvement around here. Think you can handle that?” 

“I’ll discuss it with the principal,” her eyes were a little wide. Joel smirked. 

“Good,” you replied. “I’ll be in touch to follow up. In the mean time, I’m going to take Ellie home as an excused absence to make sure she receives appropriate medical attention for injuries she received while under your care. I’ll also be reaching out to my attorney to make sure any and all liability in this case is appropriately considered.” 

You stood up and Ellie stood up with you. You put your arm around her. 

“Come on,” you said. “We’re going home.” 

Ellie pressed herself against your side and gave you a quick hug before she climbed in Joel’s car. 

“For the record,” Joel said. “Not sure I’ve ever wanted to fuck you more than when you were chewing out that counselor.” 

“Good to know I can still turn you on,” you teased before you sighed. “So, Ellie’s friend…” 

“Always kinda figured,” he shrugged. “She’ll tell us when she’s ready.” 

“Yeah,” you said. “See you at home?” 

He kissed you. 

“Hopefully more than see you.” 

That night at dinner, Ellie only picked at her food, moving it around on her plate. 

“We’re not mad at you, Baby Girl,” Joel said, looking at her. “You know that, right?” 

She sighed. 

“I know.” 

“Want to talk about anything?” You asked. 

“You called me your daughter,” she said. 

Joel looked at you for a moment. 

“Well yeah,” Joel shrugged. “That’s how we think of you. We can use another word if you’d rather but…” 

“OK but if I’m your daughter why haven’t you tried to adopt me?” She asked, looking between you. “I mean, if you just don’t want to…” 

“Oh Baby Girl,” Joel leaned in closer to her. “Do you want us to adopt you? Because we just didn’t want to do anything that you weren’t askin’ for. We’d love nothing more than to adopt you.” 

“Really?” She asked. 

“Of course!” You smiled. “What, you think we let just any ol’ gremlin come in here? Just the special ones.” 

She smiled a little at that. 

“Cool.” 

You started the paperwork in the morning. 

Saturday, October 7, 2023 

Joel had been looking for a good reason to take all his girls camping and your birthday seemed to be a good a reason as any. 

Sarah came with Brandon and Carson, who was now five. Evie was happy for an excuse to get away from college after a bad breakup with her girlfriend. Ellie was just excited to get to spend more time with her sisters. Even Tommy came with his wife, Maria. Just when they’d started to expect him to never settle down, he met the perfect woman. Unlike Joel, he wasted no time in locking her down, a fact he loved to rub in. 

And Joel? He was just happy to have all his favorite people under one roof. 

He’d rented a cabin big enough that you and him would have some space - since he fully intended on making you cum until you couldn’t see straight - and grabbed steak and hot dogs and enough junk food to feed a small army. 

Sarah still lit her marshmallows on fire for Smores but Joel caught her stealing some of Brandon’s less burned ones when they were all around the campfire one night. He took Carson and Ellie down to the lake and taught them both how to fish while you and Sarah stayed back at the cabin to chat, the two of you still the best of friends decades after he’d first hired you to be her nanny. He made the mistake of letting you pick the hike one day and he paid the price when Evie - who’d always been clumsy - twisted her ankle. Joel had to carry her back to camp, you cursing yourself for not packing more first aid supplies in your hiking bag. Ellie set up her telescope in a clearing and spent hours looking at the stars, far enough from the city lights that she was in awe of them. 

“Good birthday?” Joel asked as you climbed into bed beside him the last night there. 

“Perfect birthday,” you kissed him. 

His hands drifted to your breast and you smiled against his mouth. 

“Some things never change, do they?” You teased. 

“You stop wantin’ it and I’ll stop doin’ it,” he replied, sliding a hand over your body to your leg, hitching it over his hip. 

“You know me so well.” 

He undressed you slowly, taking his time touching you everywhere he knew you loved his fingers to linger. When you tugged his pants down, you took his length in your hand, working him up and down for a moment, before you took him in your mouth, so hot and wet he had to stop himself from moaning too loud. You sucked him slowly, working your way down his thick shaft until you were nearly choking on him before going back up again, moving harder and faster each time, your tongue pressing against the thick vein that ran on the underside of him. 

“Fuck, Baby,” he groaned. “Tryin’ to make me cum before I’m even inside you?” 

You choked out something that sounded like a ‘no’ from around his cock and he groaned. 

“You get just another minute of that,” he said, straining to keep his composure. “Want to cum inside your pussy, not your mouth.” 

Just when he felt like he couldn’t take anymore, he grabbed your hair and pulled you off him, panting for breath. You wiped your mouth. 

“Here I thought you liked that,” you whispered. 

“More than liked it,” he muttered, grabbing your hips and yanking you toward him with a quiet yelp followed by a giggle. “Gonna have to do something to make sure you keep bein’ that good to me…” 

He dipped his fingers into you, making you groan. He smiled. 

“This wet just from suckin’ me off?” He breathed. You moaned in response. “Fucking hell, you really are the perfect woman…” 

He added another finger and leaned down, taking your clit into his mouth, sucking and licking you while his fingers opened you until you came so hard it felt like you might snap off his fingers.

Joel slipped his fingers from you and ran them over his cock, using your wetness to make him slick enough to enter you. He notched his head against you and settled between your legs, pressing into you in one firm, demanding stroke. 

“Fuck,” you panted, your back arching. “So full…” 

“Love you full of me,” he said, grinding himself against you before pulling back and pushing into you again. 

Your arms went around his neck as he picked up the pace, pressing his cock all the way into you with each stroke. You pushed yourself up off the bed and he smiled, kissing you as he helped you to straddle his lap while he was still inside you. He held you close while you rose and fell over him, thrusting up to meet you with every firm stroke. Your breasts bounced with the force of it, your head tilted back in pleasure as he sucked and licked his way up and down your throat. 

“Joel,” you breathed. “Want to cum with you. So close…” 

“Fuck Baby,” he groaned as you moved harder, faster, angling your hips so his stomach pressed into your clit while his head caught on the spot inside you that made you moan. He liked to think of that spot as his place in you, where he’d been made to reach and satisfy. Never did he feel as complete as when he was inside you, making you cum around him. 

“Joel,” you gasped as you started to cum again, clinging to him with your whole body. He thrust into you once more before filling you. 

“Love you so much,” he kissed you, your body pressed tight against his own. “Fuck, I love you.” 

When things went back to the normal routine after the camping trip, Joel printed off a picture that Sarah had taken on her phone during the hike. It was just before Evie had twisted her ankle and everyone was smiling, the frame filled with the faces of everyone Joel had ever loved. 

He wrote on the back of the picture, as though he’d ever forget who any of you were to him: “My girls + Carson, Me, Tommy, Maria and Brandon - October, 2023.” 

You worked until after seven that night. Joel made dinner - nothing like what you could do but you kissed him like you thought it was a gourmet meal all the same - and Ellie was out with her friend Riley. 

“Anything you in the mood for this evening?” He asked, pouring you another glass of wine. 

“Nothing in particular,” you smiled. “Oh, we could watch When Harry Met Sally! Such fantastic fall vibes…” 

“I think I can handle that,” he smiled a little. 

“I mean, it is your favorite movie,” you smiled back. “I’ll clean up if you want to get it queued up?” 

He found the movie on the Apple TV and was about to set it to play when he glanced at the record player in the corner. You’d painted little purple flowers along one side of it. They’d faded and chipped a bit since but he still loved those little flowers, a physical representation of you. He lit the candle on the coffee table - lavender scented, one of your favorites. He pulled out Slowhand and set it to play Wonderful Tonight just as he heard the water cut off in the kitchen. You laughed, leaning in the doorway to the living room. 

“Clapton, hm?” You asked, eyebrows raised. 

“Well, when the song stops bein’ true, I’ll stop playin’ it,” he held his hand out to you. You smiled hugely and took it, tucking yourself against him. He held you close, swaying in time to the music, the smell of lavender on the air. 

You stretched up to kiss him as the song ended and Joel turned the record player off before settling in beside you on the couch, glass of wine in hand. 

“I think our little ‘how we met video’ for this movie would be fun,” you said during the opening credits. “Me, a college girl with a crush…” 

“Me, an old man who was practically head over heels for you from first sight,” he said. 

You laughed. 

“Think we’ve made a pretty good go of it though,” you looked up at him through your eyelashes. 

He smiled and kissed your forehead, surrounded by your warmth, the signs of the children you’d raised with him, and the smell of lavender. 

“Wouldn’t change a damn thing.” 

A/N: Thank you so much for reading this overly long exercise in "What would happen if?" I like to think this version of Doc and Joel are living in Austin right now, happy with their girls.

Thanks for being here, thanks for sticking with it, thanks for being a part of this. Love you all!

[hotcocoabombb]

I just beat The Last of Us Part 2 for the first time. Instead of giving this game the review treatment, I want to just give my unfiltered thoughts about this game. This post is probably gonna be messy and I'm gonna bounce around topics a lot but I want it to feel "natural" I guess. So... Here we go.

This game has hung over me for 4 years, which is weird because I only just played it. The main culprits for that are NakeyJakey and JsReviews, who both have excellent reviews on either side of the spectrum of like/dislike, which I'll link here (fair warning they're both an hour long). You don't need to watch these to understand this post because it contains my thoughts and my thoughts alone after actually playing it, I just wanna provide perspective for what I knew going in.

In short, I had the entire game's story spoiled for me multiple times over before actually playing it. I had tried playing it about 2 years ago but dropped it before I even hit Seattle day 2. The reason for that, I'm not really sure. Going in, I knew Joel died and I knew that you played as Abby, I knew her motivations and I knew every character who died. It's possible that the knowledge of the story changed my first experience with this game because I had 4 years to sit with the fact that Joel died, which is the motivation of the story for Ellie, and I knew that Joel killed Abby's dad, which is Abby's motivation. Despite that, I connected with Ellie because I liked Joel but found it hard to connect with Abby because I didn't know her or her dad. The attempt near the beginning of Abby's story didn't work for me because showing me a man saving zebras doesn't make me care about him the same way I cared about Joel after spending a game with him and watching him grow. Dr Anderson doesn't mean anything to me, and unless they make a game that fleshes him out or the show does, he never will. Even then, it doesn't fix that I don't feel for Abby as much as I feel for Ellie. They both do heinous shit but I side more with Ellie because I know her.

You could say the point of Abby's campaign is to get you to care about her character. Honestly, it almost works for me, except for one thing. We don't know Abby's motivation when she kills Joel. This immediately paints her in a bad light for the rest of the game and taints the players view of her. Even as someone who knew her motivations before starting the game I still found it difficult to sympathize with her because of the fact that she did what she did while Ellie was on the floor begging for him to be spared. The game tries to frame it like she's having doubts but the fact that she went through with it anyway just doesn't sit right with me. This isn't about Joel dying, it's about how Abby went about it. She basically enters Terminator mode when she gets to attack Joel, and then the game later wants to frame her as a good person who's only looking out for her friends. The Abby who killed Joel and the Abby in Seattle Day 1-3 do not feel at all like the same character to me. While I liked the story between Abby and Lev, it just feels like such an ass pull when Abby went from brutally murdering Joel and reveling in it while Ellie begged for his life on the floor, to someone who says "Oh! I feel bad for those kids that I left behind that are part of the faction I actively have killed member after member of, I should help them!" I'm sorry, no matter how you slice it that just doesn't work for me.

You could say "but Ellie brutally tortures Nora for information before killing her, isn't that the same thing?" I could see your point but the difference is Ellie is visibly disturbed by what she did. The scene after shows her having a breakdown, literally shaking, her voice quivering. Ellie didn't revel in that. It had a use to her, and even despite that she felt awful about it. Abby reveled in that torture which is the main distinction. Again, I liked Abby's story. Her bond with Lev is great, but I just can't shake the feeling that she feels like a completely different character than she did in the prologue.

On top of all of that, Ellie makes the choice to spare Abby in the end. I hate this. I hate this so much, genuinely. I could've forgiven the inconsistent writing of Abby if the game ended the way it (in my opinion) should've clearly ended based off the narrative. Abby being imprisoned and tortured before Ellie shows up to finish the job could've been powerful because it shows that Ellie is making the same mistake Abby did. She went too far in pursuit of her revenge. She's no better than Abby now. Instead, the game has her spare Abby, which just feels wrong to me. Why does Ellie get to choose to spare the person she hates the most after spending almost a year or more letting it fester. It makes no sense to me. I get the cycle of violence ending and whatever but man, it just feels deflating and it also feels like a cop-out to have Ellie go looking for Abby one last time only to let her go.

So, maybe you're wondering, how would I fix my issues with the story? Honestly, it's very minor fixes. Starting with:

1: Change the first scene of the game to Abby's flashback of the hospital. I understand that the reason they didn't do this is because they wanted Joel's death to be a shock. Personally, I think this was the wrong decision. By showing Abby's motivation immediately we can sympathize with her even after she murders Joel. The way it's set up in game now is too little too late.

2: Show Abby being shaken after Joel's death. If they did what Ellie had after Nora's death for Abby I would honestly have no issues with inconsistent writing. It would just feel more cohesive

That's it tbh. I feel like if you did those two things, or even only #2, I could accept Ellie allowing Abby to live. The rest of the story is already great, imo it just needed some final tweaks, but these two small issues really weigh on the game imo. It had everything it needed to be great, but the story just falls short in the end for me, which is a real shame. I liked the story, but I could've loved it.

Well, that's the end of the story discussion. I don't really wanna talk about the gameplay or presentation. It looks great, sounds great, and plays great. That's about it. I could've loved this game if the story was just tighter. As is, I'd give it like a 6.5/10, maybe a 7/10

Idk man, this game is so hard to attach a number to for me. Just know I liked it overall

[cyber-eris]

no thoughts, only x life pokemon au

I HAVEN’T GOT THIS DARN AU OFF MY MIND BUT I AM NOT STOPPING MYSELF

IT’S HEADCANON TIME

here are the rankings to remind you!

(a big thank you to

@silencer-lemonade

​ for coming up with most of these)

this is set in sword and shield!

Trainer - uh, you? we still haven’t really figured that out

Rival - Quig!

Gemini - Grass Type Gym Leader

Jimmy - Water Type Gym Leader

fWhip - Fire Type Gym Leader

Jeremy/Jack - Fighting Type Gym Leader

ghost we haven’t figured out but we are getting there

Katherine - Fairy Type Gym Leader

Joel - Rock Type Gym Leader

or

Scott - Ice Type Gym Leader (tbh if he was the ice type gym leader i would definitely buy shield just for that)

we also have not established dark type gym 

Joey - Dragon Type Gym Leader

Lizzie - Champion

rose is probably just rose

i can’t make anyone rose

i love all of them

now for the headcanons (i just now realized that this implies that lizzie is quig’s older sister) (so)

Gym Missions

- Gem’s is probably something about plants, to test your knowledge on the herbs that grow around the region, a maze with a greenhouse theme and you need to water certain herbs to get through certain sections, she wouldn’t hesitate to make it fancy and heckin cool.

- Scott’s gym mission is an ice skating maze! Prior to the gym mission he says “Hope you know how to ice skate, good luck!” and just leaves.

This also implies that if you didn’t know how to ice skate he would be like “Welp, too bad!” and throw you into the rink.

- Katherine’s would most likely center around performing with Pokemon, as she used to do so in Kalos herself, and she would rate it out of 10. This of course, may not be do-able in a game, but would be fun to see.

Gym Leaders

- Upon leaving Ballonlea to Circhester, Katherine recommends asking Scott about the best hot chocolate places in Circhester, as it is cold!

- She wasn’t wrong. Scott may or may not have an entire tier list of every cafe in Circhester + nearby and how good their hot chocolate is.

- Fun fact: Katherine’s starter in Kalos was a Fennekin!

- Joey has a Corviknight.

- He uses it as what he calls a flying taxi cheat code.

- He can also ride the Corviknight, he just doesn’t.

- Jimmy has a crab related Pokemon for obvious reasons.

- Out of the first 3 gym leaders, fWhip is the dad friend of Gemini and Jimmy.

- One time Gemini slid across the stadium on her way out after a battle and after seeing that fWhip just went full father mode.

fWhip: Why did you do that? Your knees must be scraped so badly, you could have been hurt- Gemini: I’m fine, I promise, I wore kneecaps- uh- kneepads.

- I just- really like chaotic GeminiTay. Let me have this.

Other Characters

- Quig with a Wooloo.

- That’s it, that’s the whole headcanon.

- Also, Quig giving Lizzie the nickname “Lee”-

hhhhnotbeingdramaticbutiwoulddieforhim

- Quig defies normal rival logic. He does not pick the Pokemon that is a type opposite to the one you picked. He is Quig, what did you expect?

- Shubble as Sonia? What do you think? that’s all my brain has produced uh bye

[rfamess]

This cured my boredom for a little bit. Was making a few new music playlists and thought.. hmm. I wonder what kind of music the RFA listens to? So, I made this. For no reason at all.

What Kind of Music the RFA + V/Saeran Listen To:

Saeyoung/707:

- (I always see people writing that he’d listen to all star or other cringe meme songs because that’s what seems to be his entire personality, but I like to think he has more substance than that and listens to songs that don’t have to do with memes.)

- He definitely listens to rap/hip-hop.

- Can you not imagine him driving down the road in his cars, windows down, music blasting?

- He listens to his music uber loud in his headphones while working.

- His favorite artist is probably Tyler the creator, i mean, how could you not love him.

- Listens to Mac Miller when he’s sad :(

PLAYLIST:

Who Dat Boy - Tyler the Creator

Stutter - Freddie Dredd

Evil Fantasy - Freddie Dredd

Sweatpants - Childish Gambino

Bounce - Logic

Dead Wrong - Notorious B.I.G.

Movement - Oliver Tree

Stick to Your Guns - Watsky

Both - Gucci Mane

No Sleep Till Brooklyn - Beastie Boys

Can I Kick It - A Tribe Called Quest

No Limit - G Easy

Circles - Mac Miller

Broke Bitch - TMG (lol)

Bonfire - Childish Gambino

I THINK - Tyler the Creator

Good News - Mac Miller

I - Kendrick Lamar

FACE - Brockhampton

King Kunta - Kendrick Lamar

Lovely Things Suite: Knots - Watsky

Zen:

- (Similar to Saeyoung, I don’t believe Zens entire personality revolves around musicals, he probably doesn’t listen to them that often imo.)

- I like to think he’s a... well rounded individual when it comes to music

- Listens to anything and everything.

- I could see him listening to the same music as Seven, but is also very into 70s-90s rock like the Red Hot Chili Peppers and the like.

- He runs listening to all of his music on shuffle and doesn’t have a specific playlist so there’s never a certain vibe to it— it really is all over the place.

- In addition to Seven’s playlist, here’s Zen’s

PLAYLIST:

Funny Face - Red Hot Chili Peppers

Santeria - Sublime

Badfish - Sublime

The Luck You Got - The High Strung

Dedicated to the One I Love - The Mamas and the Papas

Heart of Glass - Blondie

Come as You Are - Nirvana

Brown Eyed Girl - Van Morrison

Machu Picchu - The Strokes

Dirty Harry - Gorillaz

Love of Your Life - Red Hot Chili Peppers

The Adults Are Talking - The Strokes

Bailee - The Licks

Where is my Mind - Pixies

Hurt Like Mine - The Black Keys

Gap - The Kooks

Give it Away - Red Hot Chili Peppers

Take Me Out - Franz Ferdinand

Hoops - The Rubens

Conquest - The White Stripes

Ten Cent Pistol - The Black Keys

Yoosung:

- Yoosung likes more upbeat music, maybe more new age/alternative pop

- Listens to music every time he tries to study, but usually get distracted by it and starts to sing along instead of actually doing his work

- Is probably trying to branch out of his style, Seven and Zen try to convince him to listen to their favorite genres

- The three of them always argue about who has the best taste in music lol

- He’s constantly wondering if his music is “manly” enough (it’s okay yoosung it’s just music)

- If this dude gets drunk and hears any of this music he goes absolutely wild and dances all over the place

PLAYLIST:

Bambi - Hippocampus

Turn - the Wombats

Paris - Magic Man

Chronic Sunshine - Cosmo Pike

Death of a Bachelor - Panic! At the Disco

Silvertongue - Young the Giant

Brazil - Declan McKenna

Unbelievers - Vampire Weekend

Baseball - Hippocampus

Australia - The Shins

Prune, You Talk Funny - Gus Dapperton

Honeypie - JAWNY

Alien Boy - Oliver Tree

Satellite - Guster

So Young - Portugal. The Man

Blinding Lights - The Weeknd

Circles - Post Malone

Unbearably White - Vampire Weekend

Tiny Umbrella - Coast Modern

Way it Goes - Hippocampus

Electric Feel - MGMT

Jumin:

- this guy has 2 modes and that’s it: classical bitch or music that has words

- He appreciates the fine art of classical music and listens to it when he has work to get done or when he’s trying to relax.

- If he’s in a good mood he’ll put on a playlist that includes “music with actual lyrics!”

- It’s a dad playlist. Billy Joel, Billy Joel, Billy Joel, Elton John, The Beatles, Billy Joel.

- He likes Billy Joel. Jumin has a dad personality you can’t convince me otherwise lol

- He tried to branch out but can get very picky in his interests. “I don’t like this guitar riff— change it”

- Either way his 2 modes are apparent in his playlists

PLAYLIST:

Dreams - Fleetwood Mac

California Dreamin’ - The Mamas and the Papas

Don’t Ask Me Why - Billy Joel

Starman - David Bowie

Miss You - The Rolling Stones

Dancing in the Moonlight - King Harvest

Come and Get Your Love - Redbone

It’s Too Late - Carole King

Movin’ Out - Billy Joel

A Horse With No Name - America

I Want to Hold Your Hand - The Beatles

Honky Cat - Elton John

Vienna - Billy Joel

The Stranger - Billy Joel

Waltz in A Minor - Chopin

Hungarian Dance No. 5 in G Minor - Brahms

Waltz No. 7 in C Sharp Minor, Op. 64, No. 2 - Chopin

Souvenir de Paganini - Chopin

Solfeggietto in C Minor - Bach

Prelude in B Minor, Op. 32, No. 10 - Rachmaninoff

IV. Allegro Molto From Quartet - Yo-Yo Ma

La Fille Aux Cheveux de Lin - Debussy

Porz Goret - Yann Tiersen

Carnival of the Animals: VII. Aquarium - Camille Saint-Saëns

Carnival of the Animals: XIII. The Swan - Camille Saint-Saëns

Jaehee:

- We all know her obsession with Musicals (specifically zens)

- Other than this she listens to...well honestly I don’t know

- Her music doubles as something she can get hyped up with and something she can listen to to relax.

- She loves to dance, so a lot of her songs and just songs that she’ll never be able to refuse to move her feet to!

- She likes the old classics and then she likes Doja Cat. Lizzo? Queen.

- She’s a barb let’s be real please. you can never convince me that she’s not

PLAYLIST:

Adore You - Harry Styles

She - Harry Styles

Call Me - Blondie

Starships - Nicki Minaj

Hey Mickey - Toni Basil

Juice - Lizzo

Say So - Doja Cat

Voulez-Vous - ABBA

Waterloo - ABBA

Cuz I Love You - Lizzo

Killing Me Softly With His Song - Roberta Flack (LOL the memories associated with this song after Killing Stalking..... hahahaha BUT ITS STILL A GREAT SONG!)

Only - Nicki Minaj

Boss Bitch - Doja Cat

Go Your Own Way - Fleetwood Mac

Beez in the Trap - Nicki Minaj

Woman - Harry Styles

9 to 5 - Dolly Parton

Blame it on the Boogie - Michael Jackson

One Way or Another - Blondie

Tia Tamera - Doja Cat

Truth Hurts - Lizzo

V:

- indie boy indie boy indie boy indie boy

- Cmon just look at him he’s an indie boy

- If you’ve ever met a film student that gatekeeps music, they have the same exact taste but V won’t say shit to make you feel stupid. It’s just music bruv

- If you’ve ever been to an indie concert you know the fuckin dance you know what I’m talking about. he does that.

- Rolls a joint, pops the music off and he paints, does photography, whatever. Either way he straight vibes every single time the tunes come on.

- Low key thinks he has the best music taste. that’s just how dem indie kids roll let’s be real here.

- For some reason knows everything about every type of music. will spew facts about artists and songs at random

PLAYLIST:

Shuggie - Foxygen

Necessary Evil - Unknown Mortal Orchestra

Homage - Mild High Club

Another One - Mac DeMarco

Plants - Crumb

What Once Was - Her’s

Heart and My Car - Summer Salt

Cottage Roads - The Walters

Moonlight on the River - Mac DeMarco

Work This Time - King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard

Like Yesterday - Paul Cherry

Call it Fate, Call it Karma - The Strokes

Knowhere - Nick DeLaurentis

Escargot Blues - Guantánamo Bay Surf Club

A Side / B Side - Tipling Rock

Dark Red - Steve Lacy

That I Miss You - Vansire

Top Tier Love - Lonely Benson

Driving to Hawaii - Summer Salt

Taking Up Space - Mustard Service

She’s the Only One - King Guru

Saeran:

- emo boy emo boy emo boy

- We all know it

- As much as I’d love to say he listens to heavy death metal, there’s a part of my mind saying NO he’s not like that.

- Well he is, but he’s got more than a few single interest

- Probably listens to Nirvana, Cage the Elephant, anything similar

- Is always trying to listen to new music

- Kind of sick of Seven blasting his music all the time and listens to the opposite of hip hop whenever possible

- Honestly enjoys all types of music, but sticks to his favorites

PLAYLIST:

- All Apologies - Nirvana

- Angel of Small Death and the Codeine Scene - Hozier

- Soma - The Strokes

- Black Madonna - Cage the Elephant

- Hysteria - Muse

- Why’d You Only Call Me When You’re High - Arctic Monkeys

- I Got Mine - The Black Keys

- Supermassive Black Hole - Muse

- Under the Bridge - Red Hot Chili Peppers

- Back Against the Wall - Cage the Elephant

- Creep - Radiohead

- Heart Shaped Box - Nirvana

- Demon Days - Gorillaz

- Bulls on Parade - Rage Against The Machine

- Matador - The Buttertones

- Holiday - Green Day

- RIP - The Licks

- London Calling - The Clash

- Loser - Beck

- What I Got - Sublime

[winterscaptain]

i loved hotch’s top 3 parent moments, but what are his top 3 most defeated moments & how do the kids/mom help him cope/feel better

ooooh these got REALLY long so they’re going under a cut (they’re basically three drabbles so i included the ajf tag list (whoops))

a joyful future masterlist

1.

aaron comes back home from very long day full of infuriating people and politics, and isaac has left everything all over the living room floor. he trips on something (probably shoes) and breaks. he doesn’t get mean or anything, but his bark is definitely harsher than he intended. isaac is so so upset, and he holes himself up in his room. aaron feels awful, instantly. mom runs interference, and spends some time in the dark with isaac so he can calm down with minimal stimulus. when isaac is ready, mom goes back into the living room and finds aaron distraught, his head in his hands. 

“i promised myself i wasn’t going to become my father.” 

mom just wraps around him like a koala and is like “you’re not. you just had a bad day. for god’s sake, jack snapped at me over something ridiculous yesterday, and isaac and soph got into a knock-down drag-out fight last week about a puzzle while caro was simultaneously throwing a tantrum about fruit snacks. we’re all allowed to have bad days, and you can make it right. he’s a smart kid - just tell him what’s going on and remind him that you’re not upset with him and that you love him.” 

aaron goes to isaac’s door, knocks, and waits for isaac to tell him he can come in. aaron sits at the foot of his bed, waiting. they sit in the dark for a long time, and isaac eventually crawls into aaron’s lap. his dad tells him everything that happened in his day at work, and rounded it all off with “it was wrong of me to get upset with you, little man. it wasn’t your fault, and i love you more than anything, all the time, no matter what. i’m so sorry, and i hope you can forgive me.”

“i can.” 

mom walks in later to find them asleep, aaron propped against the headboard with his ankles crossed, isaac sprawled across his chest. 

2.

when the girls are older, maybe 14 or 15, he puts his foot down about an out-of-town concert with a friend and their older brother. the concert is a few days away, and sophia mentions it over dinner. 

without really meaning to, he goes into full drill sergeant mode and gets a little too specific about all the things that could go wrong. it was very clear in the moment that the topic was not up for discussion, that he was not under any circumstances going to allow the girls to go to a concert a couple hours away with only a nineteen year-old college sophomore as a supervisor. 

it turns into one of those “i hate you you never let me do anything” teenager moments. sophia gets up and shuts herself in the garage with the treadmill and runs until she’s tired, showering and going straight into her room without a word or glance in his direction. caroline really quietly sets her napkin on the table, and leaves out the back door, headed for the porch swing that faces the back of the property. she, too, goes to bed without saying goodnight. 

mom doesn’t say anything in the moment, and they finish dinner with the boys (isaac, now 16 or 17, and elliot, now 10 or 11) and get them ready to wind down for the night. when they settle into bed, he starts to doubt himself. 

“i was too hard on them, wasnt i?” 

before mom can answer, aaron gets a call from jack (now 26 or 27) on his cell. he tells him that sophia tattled to him about the concert, and he didnt mention this to them, but he’d be okay taking the day off work to take them and their friends, and even find a spot to stay overnight so they aren’t out driving late.

mom eavesdrops. aaron tells jack to hold on a second, and mutes him. mom says that would be a good compromise and reminds him that they aren’t little anymore, and they can mostly fend for themselves (thanks to a few weeks’ worth of self-defense with derek over the summer). “i know it’s hard, honey. i can’t say i’m wild about it either, but if jack goes, i’d feel a lot better about that than the alternatives.”

he sighs, kisses her, and tells jack that would be alright. “i’ll go down the hall and tell them.”

“have some sucking up to do, old man?”

aaron just rolls his eyes and hangs up before walking down the hall. he knocks on the door, and two flat “what”s come from the other side of the door. he opens it, and finds caroline and sophia facing each other from their beds on either side of the room. he could tell they were talking shit, the set of their mouths giving them away. 

they’re looking at him like he’s goddamn war criminal. he pulls caro’s desk chair and sits backward on it in between the ends of their beds. “your brother has very graciously offered to take friday off of work to take you and your friends to the concert and spend the night in norfolk with you.” 

“so, you’re letting us go?” 

he tries not to let the biting resentment in sophia’s tone get to him. “i am. i’m sorry for coming down hard on you at dinner. it was wrong of me, and i understand that it could feel like i don’t trust your judgement. i do.” he looks at them each in turn. “it just freaks me out a little that you’re getting older a lot faster than i thought you would.” 

caro’s lip wobbles, and she throws her covers back and crosses to him, giving him a hug. “thank you. we’ll be good, i promise.” 

“i know, my little love.” 

it takes him a little while to get back into sophia’s good graces, but when he picks them up from jack’s apartment at the end of the weekend, she can’t stop talking about how much fun she had. he’s pretty sure he’s forgiven. 

3. 

its when he first starts dating mom that jack starts to act out. he’s usually a really well-tempered kid, but sometimes he’d snap at her or withdraw and it made her feel awful. there were definitely a couple of nights were he’d snap at her over something small and she would retreat to the back bedroom to take a minute. it wore on aaron to tell her that she wasn’t an imposition, that she wasn’t replacing haley, that she isn’t his second choice or ‘the backup’

they both have this moment of total defeat - they’ve known each other for so long, and jack has known her most of his life, but the change in relationship status really brought up a lot of stuff for the kiddo. 

mom comes around faster, learning to understand that jack is just adjusting and having trouble with the idea that there’s a semi-permanent female figure in his life, and that his dad’s attention is divided. thus, when aaron inevitably breaks down about it, she’s there. 

“i feel selfish. maybe i shouldn’t have -”

“aaron. we are doing everything we can to make this an easy adjustment for him, but it’s difficult.”

“but nothing’s changed! you’ve been here for five years.” 

“love, everything’s changed, and we’ve only been dating for a couple of months. that’s a lot for someone who’s barely seven. you’re not selfish, you’re not a bad parent. you haven’t made a bad judgement call. he’s just really young and is having trouble handling these very big changes in his home landscape.” 

so aaron finds a therapist for jack to see twice a week, figuring it was a good idea anyway with all the trauma he may or may not remember. it’s still sucky for a while, but as jack starts implementing the coping mechanisms he learns and mom takes on a role closer to a peer or friend than a parent, things get a lot easier. 

tagging: @arganfics @quillvine @stxrryspencer @agenthotchner @wandaswitxh @hurricanejjareau @fics-ilike @ange-must-die @ughitsbaby @rousethemouse @criminalsmarts @dr-reid-ismyspiritanimal @shrimpyblog @genevievedarcygranger @ssaic-jareau @good-heavens-chris-evans @angelsbabey @gublergirls @writefasttalkevenfaster @venusbarnes @vintagecaptainspidey @micaiahmoonheart @ogmilkis @thatreallyis-americas-ass @marvels-agents100 @newtslatte @risenfox @mrs-dr-reid @captain-christopher-pike @joemazzello-imagines @pinkdiamond1016 @sebbybaby0 @pan-pride-12 @hotchlinebling @lee-rin-ah @sunshine-em @word-scribbless @jdougl-love @sageellsworth05 @emmice9 @nohalohoseok @giveusbackourbucky @bauslut @yourlovelynewsbian @sparklingkeylimepie @aili28 @kingandrear @reader4027 @spnobsessedmemes @rogers-mouth @dreila03 @forgottenword @aaronhotchnerr @ssa-morgan @hotchnersgoddess @buckybau @phoenixfyre374 @sana-li @tegggeeee @abschaffer2 @ssacandi-ass-prentiss @songbird400 @dontkissthewriter @ellyhotchner @a-dorky-book-keeper @lotties-journey-abroad @mrs-joel-pimentel-23-25 @laneygthememequeen @ahopelessromantic @violentvulgarvolatile @andreasworlsboring101 @mooneylupinblack @ssareidbby @violet-amxthyst  @lcvischmitt 

[ash-zahira]

Cnco With Their Kids

Someone asked me once how I think each of the boys would be with their kids and then when I said it they said I should post it as a headcanon sooo... here I am 😂 if anyone does end up seeing this lemme know what you think and if I should do anymore

Erick

Erick would love to mess with his kids. By that I mean that he would love to make them upset and argue with them over dumb things wether it be a toy or just what color something is.

You’ve been home all day with your son and when Erick comes home he goes up to you and gives you a kiss. Your son seeing this would run up between you guys, push Erick away from you and begin to tell him that you are “his mom” telling Erick he can’t touch you. But Erick would just love he see his son mad at him so he starts arguing with him telling him

“she’s my wife so ha!” And you’d just watch Your husband and son going back and forth for about 2 minutes until your son starts to cry. Erick starts apologizing to the kid and saying;

“I’m just kidding! I’m kidding! She’s your mom!” And you’d pick up your son and start walking away only to hear Erick from over your shoulder, “you little faker! You’re not even crying!!”

Joel

Joel is so scared of being a father. He’s afraid of doing something wrong and messing up his child’s life. He’d constantly ask you what he should do with the baby that’s in the crib crying.

You’d get woken up in the middle of the night by a confused Joel just standing next to your bed shaking you lightly and when you ask him what he wants he’d be like;

“So, I changed, fed, and burped the baby, but, their still awake, do I just like... hang out with them... or?” And you’d just laugh telling him,

“Yeah or else they’re gonna cry again.” Then you’d end up staying awake a little longer to watch Joel cautiously rocking the baby and softly singing to them hoping that they’ll fall asleep so that he can go to bed without having to wake you again.

Zabdiel

Zabdiel would be such a softie for his daughter and his daughter would be Daddy’s Little Princess for sureee!!! He would do anything and everything for his little girl.

It’d be a Friday night and the family is having a movie night, you, Zab, your 3 year old daughter, and your infant son that’s asleep in your arms. All of a sudden your daughter would turn to Zabdiel and say to him.

“Daddy, I want a puppy!” And he’d quickly look over to you to see how you feel but because you had a baby not too long ago you aren’t feeling a new dog at the moment so you shake your head no. Zab drops his head at you doing this never liking to make his daughter upset but knows he has to. He picks up his head and looks at his daughter who is looking up at him.

“Im sorry Amor, but we just don’t have enough room for a puppy right no-“ seeing your daughters eyes get wider with tears in them and her lip start to tremble you know he’s a goner..

“No no no llores Mi Princesa!” He’d pick her up and start cradling her in his arms and before you know it. You have a puppy in the house. Not only that but by Monday your daughter is already over it and you’re the one left taking care of the dog that you didn’t even want.

Richard

Richard would love to make his kids uncomfortable and embarrass them in front of anyone that they brought around you except all of your daughter’s friends would think he is a DILF (where’s the lie??)

It’s be a Friday night and your daughter has her friends over as they’re getting ready to have a sleepover in the living room, you’re in the kitchen watching them just having fun setting everything up when you watch Richard come down the stairs and all the girls turn to mush just seeing him and all be like,

“Heyyy Mr. Camacho!! 😍😍🤤” and his dumbass would hang around and make conversation because he wants to hug and kiss his daughter and make her uncomfortable around her friends but he doesn’t realize that she’s already uncomfortable because all her friends wanna fuck her father. While this is happening your son would happen to walk in the house and into the living room, he’d be a straight STUDDD because of his dad and so he’d walk in and his sister’s friends would also melt seeing him and start flirting with him only he’d flirt right back with no shame. While all Richard wants to do is love his little girl.

Your daughter is having none of it, you’d see her slowly start to breathe heavier and quickly run in to drag Richard and your son out of the room before she explodes on every one. 

Christopher

Chris would be a straight CLOWNNNNN!! Like big red nose and alllllll!! He’s such a flirt which would make his son a huge flirt too. He’d literally teach your son how to be a fuckboy.

You’d hear him talking about flirting and then he’d be like “watch this,” to your son and walk over to you trying some pick up lines out. But you’d just turn him down everytime laughing at his attempts as he walks back to your son who is laughing along with you saying,

“Damn, you can’t t even get your wife to look at you twice, that’s tuff.” Making fun of his dad because according to him, he’s got better game than his father.

Christopher with his daughter would be OD over protective. He’d be all “no boys til you’re 30! Scratch that, no boys til after you’re already married!!”

So when your 17 year old daughter walks through the door after being out and is dressed all nice Christopher immediately goes into protective father mode asking her where she’s been. While she’s trying to answer in a way to keep her out of trouble your son, being just like his father, a clown, would jump in and be like,

“She was out on a date with her manssss!” And heading this Christopher would go crazy and start lecturing your daughter. You’d have to drag him away while he’s trying to tell her that all boys are flirts and fuck boys and are all bad. Even though he was teaching his son how to be a fuck boy not even 5 minutes ago...

————————

Lemme know what y’all think and if I should do anymore of these and if I should give me requests or something bc I’m not good at coming up with ideas on the spot... lmaoooo

-Ashley

[milqo]

i posted this on twitter but thought u guys would like to see this too!! here’s (a lot of) ellie/dina headcanons!!

dina’s taller than ellie when they first meet, but that slowly changes as they get older. ellie just strikes me as a very, very late bloomer

dina is slow to anger & ice cold when she's actually mad/upset. ellie is a lot quicker than dina to grow a real temper & doesn't need many reasons to SNAP

dina's got no fucks to give and sleeps with her feet poking out of the blanket. also, she's a snuggler. 

i think dina has a family of some kind. they like ellie.

joel is a bit...... iffy about dina. he likes her. he doesn't like some of the shit she does. your typical "you're a bad influence on my kid" dad who's completely unaware how much of a bad influence their kid are by themselves.

dina really grows on him after some time, though. he cares about her a lot. he even tries to play matchmaker one time. + he invites her for dinner, checks on her before patrol, etc.

dina will shiver ONCE and ellie will already be removing her jacket to shield her from the cold

dina is the kind of girlfriend that constantly seeks physical contact & she steals so so so many kisses at the most unexpected moments.. she's smug about ellie being So Into Her

i think i mentioned this before but dina LOVES being seen by ellie. and it's extremely easy to get ellie's attention. this is good, because she'd jump off a cliff to impress her.

dina is always touching ellie. she just.. she just stands there, holding her hand or touching her back, leaning her head on her shoulder.. even before their relationship reaches that "more than friends less than lovers" line.

by the way, that drives ellie crazy. the physical closeness, her laughing at all her jokes, her staring into her soul, the times when dina turns all silent & quiet.. she has to control herself so bad to not touch, to not do anything that would scare her away

dina is a bit of a troublemaker (shes just out there doing stupid shit teenagers do) & ellie is a Very Willing participant of whatever antic she's up to

also i'm writing a little something about this but. the sight of dina playing her guitar rly does something to ellie she LOVES it

their borrow each other's clothes so often they don't know which clothes belong to who anymore

like, they wear the same size. dina will wear pretty much anything she can get her hands on, while ellie has a Style to keep and is all about hoodies & flannels.

"we're dating." "hold on... i thought you two started dating each other seven months ago?" 

dina's a little bit better than ellie at cooking but not by much. they prefer joel's cooking.

ellie will eat anything dina cooks for her, even when it tastes like sand and it's burnt underneath. she jokes about dina trying to poison her or smth like that, but she's really grateful & makes sure to let her know

adding to that.. dina is a doting gf. shes like. heres a cup of cold water on a hot day. dont get caught in the rain. have u eaten smth today. n she does all that in a rly playful, joking manner. like she's not serious about it at all, but she really does care.

she brings her homemade food when ellie's on watch duty.

btw, tommy is super supportive of ellie & is the first to find out about her crush on dina !! he elbows her when dina passes by & gets this annoying grin on his face when ellie stares at her too much

llie's not very verbal when it comes to showing how much she cares for dina. she likes doing things for her. things that make her life easier, like cleaning her gun, repairing a broken door handle and bringing her some food joel made. 

their love language is very different but they make it work somehow. ellie loves her in the way dina likes to be loved and vice-versa.

dina does different voices for each character when she & ellie are reading together. she's TERRIBLE at it. ellie thinks it's adorable.

dina is Really Good at hiding her anxiety and she's not as confident as she may seem. she gets into this.... extra conversational mode + nervously laughs when she's not doing well. ellie doesn't buy into her shit.

after a day of manual labor and/or when ellie gets bruises (and she bruises rly easily), dina will rub cream over her skin & massage her back.. she's spoiled.

when it gets to the point where dina spends so much time in ellie's (and joel's) house she might as well move in, chaos reigns for a time.. they're both messy people n it drives joel nuts. ellie argues she "can't find anything" when her room is organized.

dina is a big baby in the rare occasions she gets sick. she hates being stuck in her house for too long & she makes sure to remind ellie just how much she hates it by being dramatic As Fuck

when someone stares at dina too much & is clearly interested on what they see, ellie makes sure to slip a hand around her waist and bring her closer.. you know. just to make a point.

dina got into a cat fight with kat ONCE like.. years before she even got together with ellie & she's still bitter abt it.

if someone were to tell dina she's jealous she would say she's NOT, but.... mm [doubt]. she gets extra clingy & passionate when she's jealous.

one time dina & jesse fought over the amount of attention she gave to ellie and how physically affectionate she was with her (especially when she was drunk, but not necessarily so)

when ellie goes on patrol without dina she's on the lookout for anything that could serve as a gift for her,, dina's favorite outfit is a dress + stockings ellie found !!

dina brings her flannels because she knows ellie loves them. she also brings her Hideous underwear because she knows ellie hates them.

dina's just easier to please. in more ways than one.

when dina tells ellie she lost Yet Another Hairtie she borrowed from her ellie's like: just you wait till i fucking Snap

some moments where ellie flew into a gay panic: 1) when dina sat on her lap for the first (and all the subsequent times) 2) when they went swimming & dina legit wore a swimsuit 3) when they played strip poker

[jcmorrigan]

Valentine’s Day F/O Letter

For the event hosted by @nougatships​ and @megane-shipping​! I decided to write a letter to Giovanni Potage from EE because I am love him SO MUCH right now. Anyway, it got kinda long, so most of it will be under a cut.

***

Hi Gio,

             This is the first time I’ve ever really written anything of length to you. To any of the ones I love this way, really. Beginnings are hard. There’s so much I want to say, and I’m not sure where to even start. So let’s get the basics out of the way: how are you doing? Successful heists lately? Epic tales of villainy I simply must know about?

           I’ve been fine. Life’s boring, as usual. I would say I don’t even know how you put up with it, but I’ve seen your couch-potato side, so that’s not really a big mystery. I like that. I like that you’re equally up for breaking the mold with some adventure and just…kicking it. (Wow. That’s some old slang. When’s the last time anyone said “kicking it”? Me. Just now.)

           So as for the reason I’m writing this letter…I think it’s best if I just begin in chronological order. So you and I both know you’re not the only one in my heart, and I’m glad you respect this. There’s a time, a place, and an AU for you, and it doesn’t make you any less special. But I’m always stunned when I look back at how we met. The others, it took time to realize I loved them, and how much they meant to me. But you? You broke through that fuckin’ museum wall, and I KNEW you were my type. If you want the receipts, I have the Discord chat of when I was talking to my friend while watching you and screaming about how much I wanted to cuddle you. (LISTEN. I KNOW THAT WAS FORWARD. I’M SORRY FOR BEING A CREEP. SOMETIMES I’M A STALKER.) …Actually, the exact words were when my friend, knowing you were my type, said “If he were any further up your alley, he’d be at your house” and I said “He could come to my house anytime” and I’m sorry your girlfriend is such a creep.

           I haven’t felt that instant…fall that many times in my life. The last time I can remember it, it was for someone real. As in who originates in my world. I think you’ve figured out that sometimes, I compare you to him. That chase went on such a runaround…with men, my whole life after him, I’ve thought of them as goals to achieve. I got the attention of the hot one! Yay! Finally! Now he can love me and all of my little quirks, even though I’m super boring! And I’m not saying that’s incredibly wrong. I’ve made some good relationships that way, actually. (All fictional, of course.)

           But you…what struck me is how much I wanted to be with you for your sake. Not mine. Not to bandy about getting you to notice me, or playing the tsundere game, or worrying I’m not good enough. Sure, I like a slowburn and a good confession, but I really just wanted to be close to you because you made me smile. You had a good sense of humor, you have that unbreakable lighthearted confidence I adore…you’re a little bit of an idiot, but in the absolute best way possible (and you have emotional smarts where I don’t). And on that note! You’re one of the nicest guys I know! Even if you are the bad guy.

           Which was kind of the two-hit combo that slayed me. I have a villain problem. You know this. I know this. I wasn’t sure how to handle it. Some days, I want to be a villain, myself, and have the freedom to do what I want, take revenge on those I feel wronged me, take whatever my heart desires, just not have to live by the RULES anymore. But some days, I become acutely aware of my conscience. Could I ever be a real villain? Could I actually steal? Could I KILL? I think about the people I’d hurt, and I don’t wanna do that. I now know that depending on the situation, I can laugh with the sinners and cry with the saints. (Little Billy Joel for ya.) But with you, I know I don’t really have to…pick. You let me be me, and you let me have that freedom of just…doing bad things that are against the rules. And it feels AWESOME. But then, we never really take it too far, and we still have our friendships, our standards, our moral codes, our etiquette. Basically, you’ll let me be the good guy, too, and you’re just a sweetie pie. Some days, I need to toe the line more; some days, I need to shed blood. But you let me suspend in between, getting the best of both worlds.

           And all this is why I think…maybe you’re my favorite out of all of them. It makes me feel guilty to love you best when I’ve given my heart to two others, and who knows where it will stop? But it’s you I find myself thinking of most often. You who I’d have fun with. You who’d make me smile. You who I’d want to make smile.

           Also, I realized lately. I don’t get jealous over you, not like I thought I would. I like seeing you depicted with other partners, the Blasters or other selfshippers/OCs. I love when I meet someone else who had the good enough taste to fall for you! If you want to invite Crusher or Spike or anyone else you like to be part of this…I know you have enough love for all of us. We can all be happy together. Just say the word!

           Knowing you would support me emotionally no matter what is touching. I’ve relied on you for a lot. I’ve done scary grown-up government stuff while listening to your theme. I invited you to the crew that would go on that flight with me because I hate airplanes so much, and I knew you would give me amazing distraction-cuddles (though I suspect you, also, fear the airplane, and if I’m right about that, I admire you so much for not letting it show). There are times I…really hate myself, or feel worthless. Especially because I have so much trouble validating myself. But I know you’d just put a hand on my shoulder and tell me it’s going to be all right before inviting me to slip on some ski masks and pretty supervillain clothes so we can go hijack sugar cookies from the bakery. (Pink for you. You always have dibs on the pink ones! I haven’t forgotten! And blue for me <3)

           The adventures we’ve been on in my imagination…the walks around Twilight Town (YEAH YEAH I KNOW WRONG WORK OF FICTION), snuggling up in your knitted blankets (which are SO SOFT), making my villainess dress together, the first kiss on the rooftop, dancing like idiots, THE HEISTS…it all makes me really happy. You remind me that I don’t necessarily have to “grow up” to be a grown-up. And, I mean, I knew that, but you make sure I REALLY know that. (Speaking of which, don’t you love how if you add the two of us parents’-basement-dwellers together, you probably end up with one [1] functioning adult?)

           I also really have to thank you for being accepting of my asexuality. I’m always scared it will push others away. They say men only want one thing, right? And I am unfortunately attracted to men. Yaaaaay me. But there are big exceptions to the rule, and you’ve always been the one to say “Fuck gender roles!” I feel like when I’m with you, I never have to worry that you’ll be wanting something I can’t give you.

           In return, I will accept you no matter your body, your identity. I’ve run into a couple different takes on you, but they’re all you.

           I guess that brings me to the hard part of this. This is going public, so I don’t know how specific I want to get. But there was a very powerful force that suggested I couldn’t see you through my own eyes. That no one could do so. It almost tore us apart. I thought it was my moral obligation to let you go. I thought loving you would mean taking a stand on the wrong side and hurting my friends. I thought that what would happen is that every time I thought of you, I would be reminded of ugly truths and harsh realities.

           But after two days, I missed you so much. It was a good wake-up call to know this relationship wasn’t completely baggage-free, and it reminded me that I have many characters in my life who I want to give my attention, but it also proved to me that if I tried to let you go…I would have to physically push you away instead, and in the end, I couldn’t do it. I think back all the time to how good of a brother-dad-mentor-figure you were to Molly, and how you got worried about Fred’s astigmatism, and how I was sure you’d get along with so many of the characters who already made up my world, and how this spoke to your heart. Oh, and also, I needed your dumb ass to say loitering in front of a truck was a valid crime. (Please don’t ever loiter in front of a truck. I’m begging you.) I need you to show me how easily you shift from Grandma Mode to Knife Mode with your knitting needle, to be proud of the way you season your soup attacks, to keep making your own capes, to insist on the benefits of wielding a bat with a fucking knife taped to it, to jet your friends to safety when they’re afraid of such things as fire and traitor bears.

           Whatever comes of all that, I hope there can still be a space for us. You and me. And I’m confident it will happen, now. It already is happening. Because I know that you’d just want me to be happy, no matter where you fell on the issue that began it. And you love and respect my friends, too. I know you see us as our own little group of villains and co-minions and talk about us like we’re an evil team that has to take care of each other, and that’s…honestly so cute. Too bad I’m terrible at putting your words to work. Maybe one day. When I learn how to find the approval I seek without fighting it out of people. But I think that was the moment it went from a crush to actually loving you. When I saw how you would do that with Molly. With everyone. Make sure they knew how valid they were. I…feel bad that I haven’t been able to live up to this lately. Like I’ve failed you. But I can always try again, right? That’s what you’d want me to do! And I do improve on things every day. One day, the minion will surpass her villain (but still stay around with you because that’s what we do)! I hope I can support you in the same way – that when you have things that trouble your mind, that I can help you feel better and get you toward a solution to the problem.

           I know I’m safe with you, and I want to keep you safe, too. I know how much you’d put on the line to defend me, and I just want to protect you from all of the bad in your world – from snooty Vice Principals who call their armies to beat you up (I’m still SO SORRY you went through that!), from the law chasing you away from all that’s familiar, from all the insults and mockery that could ever come your way. I want to stand before you like a shield. To gather the troops of the other characters I know and form a protection squad around you. To make you smile. (Even if you are really, really cute when you cry. Look, I’m not gonna beat around the bush – I do love getting to comfort you. It SUCKS that you have to go through the hard times, but I like…being there. I hope that doesn’t make a sadist of me. Yeah, yeah, I know, that’s an overreaction.)

           By the way, I’m kinda sorry for not ordering the lobster bisque at the pub in the airport. I was gonna because of you! But I chickened out! And that salmon I got instead was REALLY good, okay? But it’s a double whammy because I had JUST found out the soup place in the mall closed and I need to make up for this. There will be soup!

           (As of the most recent draft, I had a horrid stomachache last Sunday, and chicken soup was all I could eat for most of the day. I thought of you. Though yours would’ve been better than Campbell’s and we both know it.)

           Fun fact: you are dating a silly, sappy lady. I keep thinking back to this letter – I drafted it once, then went back and added things, and here I am saying I ALMOST mailed this without talking up your looks. Which is probably a good thing because it means I’m primarily with you for your personality, but everyone deserves to feel like they look nice, so here goes: I love your silly, sly smirk. I love your cute little fangies. I love your untamed pink hair. I love when I can see just how deep-pink your eyes are. I love how much of a beanpole you are, and how much taller you are than me (even if it does mean you can’t carry me bridal-style for more than thirty seconds). I love how innocent you can look, and how you can look the absolute OPPOSITE of innocent when you want to. I love the way your face lights up when you’re happy about something, or when you’re being cocky. I love the way you wear your emotions on your sleeve, and I can always see how you feel just by looking (I’m bad at body language and reading between lines, after all). Do not ever doubt that is one handsome man looking back at you from the other side of the mirror! Because I could just watch your smile for so long, unbroken, you don’t even know.

           Thank you for being you. Thank you for letting me be me. Thank you for the fact that we’re our silly selves and we can be grown-ups without growing up in the gray space between good and evil. I can’t wait to see you more – in your own story, where I’m not; in the story just for us, in our own little timeline; in the TBTCverse Twilight Town where we are hounded by complex crossover lore; in the beautiful art everyone draws of you; in any other universe that may bring us together.

           And someday, the time might come that we have to part ways romantically. I’m not looking forward to that. I’m really not. I hope it doesn’t happen. But someday, we might not have the chemistry anymore, or you might find someone better, or I might have to put more focus in what I guess is the “real world.” If that day comes, I hope we can still be friends and mean something to each other. Zucchinis/QPPs, preferably. But if we have to be more distant…just so that I can think of you, and you can think of me, and we’ll both treasure those memories.

           I love you, Giovanni. Or should I say “Boss”?

 Sincerely, with all my heart,

Rachel “Composer” Scribere/Inlustris

(P.S. I wasn’t sure which universe’s last name I should put, seeing as I obviously am not going to write my last name in THIS world, so there, have both the ones you know me as.)

(P.P.S. “If there’s a place that I could be, then I’d be another memory. Can I be the only hope for you? Because you’re the only hope for me.” ~MCR, “The Only Hope for Me Is You,” Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys)

[veroticker]

Candy ever after - Jo Raven

You can buy the book on the author’s website.

Summary (from Jo Raven’s website)

“Candy, why is your bed so big?” “… to fit my two boyfriends when we snuggle together at night.” Only that’s my father asking, staring at the bed in question. Oops.

So yeah. Unruly Jethro and cocky Joel are now officially my boyfriends. My Candy Boys. I moved in with them, and I expected things to be tense, awkward. I was wrong. This feels so right, and well, hot. These boys are SO hot.

But with college starting, Jethro returning to work at the bookshop, and Joel planning to start his own business, everything’s shifting. Not to forget the fact that Joel still hasn’t confronted his parents about our relationship, that Jethro is still recovering from his dad’s brutal attack, and that I feel insecure, well…

Wait a sec. Insecure? Come on, Candy. That’s BS. These boys love you. Yeah, I know. The boys and me, we’re solid. However, doubt still lingers. I mean, Joel’s parents hate each other. Jethro’s dad killed his mom, for chrissakes—and my mom has acquired a sudden interest in sex toys and escort services.

So I wonder if true love really exists. Love that doesn’t fade over time. You know, the kind that withstands nightmares and bad jokes, unwashed dishes in the sink and lack of lube. Yeah, that happened.

These boys own me. They’re sweet, sexy and caring—but will they break my heart, or is this our happily ever after?

Blurb

“Candy

“Are you ready?” J-One asks.

“What for?” I glance at J-Two who’s giving me a knowing grin.

“Our Happy Ending,” they say in unison.

The door flies open, revealing a trio of Mariachis in huge sombreros, guitars at the ready, mouths open to launch into song.

(Candy’s Note: Are the Mariachis too much?)

From Candy Ever After (Unpublished epilogue to the serial Candy Boys)

“This bed’s pretty big,” my dad says, looking into our bedroom.

“Humongous,” I agree.

Notice the “our.” Our bedroom. No more separate beds. No more separate living arrangements. This is it. Me and the boys, we’re a thing. A trio. In a relationship.

Status: hot.

“Lots of space to stretch out,” my dad says, awe in his voice. He leans further in, one hand on the doorjamb. “Your mom and I should get a bed like that. Hey, I didn’t know you liked dark sheets.”

“I don’t. The boys do.”

“You let your roommates choose your sheets?”

Okay, I’m starting to think that dear old dad is out of the loop, but like, completely. Looks like my mom forgot to tell him about the changes in my life. The new relationship status.

Or anything at all. I have been keeping her updated on the major landmarks of my life—up to and including finding Joel and Jethro and the difficulties we faced until we figured out we three want each other and are serious about it—but my dad’s next comment confirms my fears.

“I bet you got the best bedroom, Candace. Let’s see…” He peeks into the next room, eager like a child. “Ah, this is a storeroom. Just how many rooms does this apartment have? Where are the other bedrooms?”

Dad is an accountant in a big law firm. He has worked there all his life—okay, that makes him sound old, when he’s in fact all of fifty years. He looks and sounds like an old man, though. Set in his ways. Doesn’t like changes and breaking his habits. I mean, he can ooh and aah over something new he sees or reads about, and it’s cute, but his fascination quickly passes.

I push my brand new pink-rimmed glasses up my nose. “Dad, Joel and Jethro are my boyfriends. We, uh, we sleep together.”

And why is that so hard to say? I’m a grown woman, and it’s not like I invited him to look into our bedroom or anything.

But he’s my dad. My palms are so sweaty I could jack Joel and Jet off without need for lube.

Aaaaaand… not the sort of thing I’m comfortable thinking in front of my time-honored progenitors.”

(review under the cut)

Review

(audiobook) There wasn’t much left to resolve at the end of the first book, except, mostly, the acceptance of Candy, Joel and Jethro’s relationship by the rest of the world. Especially their family and friends. And so that’s the main focus of this bonus epilogue.

Joel’s family, who’s the least accepting, becomes the main problem. Plus we know from the first book that Joel’s upbringing and the pressure his parents put on him was a huge obstacle to Joel accepting his special feelings. So there’s a lot of tension here--will Joel stay with his lovers despite his parents’ disapproval? To keep the reader entertain, other subplots appear--the sex life of Candy’s parents, Jethro’s cousin, and other little stories inside the big one.

There’s also one last big step left to the characters in the exploration of their sexuality, and it fills most of the sex scenes.

And the narrators are once again at the top of their talent, bringing life into those characters.

All in all, it’s a very good conclusion to the story of the first book.

Quickie

Series: Hot Candy #2 (bonus epilogue for the first book)

Hashtags: #menage romance #curvy girl #nerd #bad boy #bisexual #polyamorous relationship

Triggers: homophobia

Main couple: Candace Riley & Joel Kingsley & Jethro Connors

Hotness: 5/5

Romance: 5/5

+ a definite happily ever after

- the friends are a bit over the top

Stalker mode

You can suscribe to Jo Raven’s newsletter on her website.

You can also follow her on Facebook.

[justagalwhowrites]

Oh.

Oh.

Oh my god.

I truly didn’t know what would shake out with Savvy, if they’d find her or not, who would find her, when, where, how. This was so good. So perfect. The fact that Ellie was with Joel surely put Savvy at ease. He knew just what to say. The fact that truly Ellie was integral since she clocked the snare in the first place.

I have read SO MANY Pedro fan give in the last year. Like a gross amount. Three have made me cry, and I’m not a crier. This chapter, this moment was one. For the record the other two were also yours 🤣

THANK YOU and holy CRAP I want to keep reading!! I know it can feel weird but please consider setting up a Kofi or something. Maybe you can’t use the money but then maybe donate it to a cause you love bc you deserve SOME kind of compensation for the professional quality gut punch beautifully crafted work you deliver, and with some an incredible speed at that 😭❤️

(ALSO I was very concerned knowing Bambi was going to tentatively get with someone else and even knowing it wasn’t going to work I was so scared. But I think it was important she doesn’t just get back with him. She’s been so hesitant and guarded it makes sense her incredibly strong feelings be tested and dang if the proof isn’t in the raspberries that Joel is it for her.)

Hi Bestie!!!!!

I really tried to keep Savvy's fate a mystery so we really felt some of how Bambi's been feeling all this time! But Joel immediately going into girl dad mode with her just... I love him. I love him so much. And Ellie being there helped so much, both because she saw the snare but also because she was basically a walking green flag. This young girl is OK with this man - clearly willing to kill for this man - so he's trustworthy. She was integral to getting Savvy home. Joel's baby saved Bambi's baby and I love them for it.

OMG I'm so happy my writing has made you feel so deeply! These characters and stories mean so much to me and the fact that they have an impact on others is so extraordinary to me. I love storytelling so much, that we can all experience these things together and share in the grief and the love and the passion and the joy.

You're not the first to mention a Ko-Fi and I haven't set one up simply because I genuinely don't need the money? In a lot of ways, I've lucked into a fairly comfortable life (not trying to downplay the fact that I've worked and struggled but I've had a lot of privilege and a lot of luck) and have everything I need, most things I want and a nice savings account. But the donation thing is a nice idea! So I think I'll turn on the tip function here on Tumblr and see what happens with the intent of donating what I get from it. That being said, if something I've written moves you to the point that you'd like to pay me for it, please consider tipping another author who hasn't been as lucky as I have financially. I'm sure they would really appreciate it and I'd love to support other authors vicariously!

And AHH yes I totally get you! I wanted Julie to happen for a few reasons? Mostly so Bambi wasn't just singularly focused on Joel. I don't think that suits who she is as a person and I don't think it would be good for her to do that, either. But I also wanted her to really understand that yes, Joel is it for her. She's never felt this way about anyone else and she never will again and moving beyond that - especially when he's RIGHT THERE - isn't going to happen. She needs to learn how to accept and forgive his past and trust who he is now otherwise she's going to be stuck living without the kind of love she knows is out there. She really knows that now and it's putting her in the right place to really process what happened with Joel. They're so close! They really are!

Thank you so so much for reading and for your kind words, Bestie!! Love you!!

[norton-addiction]

THE RISE OF MR JAMES NORTON

Britain’s brightest TV star on breaking into Hollywood and whether he could be the next James Bond

Mr. James Norton is not a man to be underestimated. The first time I noticed the London-born, Yorkshire-raised actor, he was playing an earnest young lover in Death Comes To Pemberley, a cosy whodunnit set in the world of Ms Jane Austen’s Pride And Prejudice. I had him down as a production-line fop, the kind that elite English schools crank out as reliably as the Disney Club cranks out Mouseketeers. He seemed… nice. Agreeable. The sort of teacake your granny would like.

I certainly couldn’t see him pulling off someone such as Tommy Lee Royce in Happy Valley, the most haunting TV psychopath of recent years. Or earning admiring reviews from the Russians for playing their national literary hero, Prince Andrei Bolkonsky, in the all-star BBC adaptation of War & Peace. But in projects as varied as the clerical mystery Grantchester and dystopian drama Black Mirror, Mr Norton has demonstrated that enviable quality – range – and has configured his career to use it to the fullest.

“That’s the joy,” he says. “Most actors would agree that the reason why you go into the job is that there’s a hunger for experience, a general inquisitiveness. When you have a group of actors at a restaurant, everyone will try everything. It’s not just a sensory thing. It’s about wanting to suck up everything that life can offer.”

Life is offering Mr Norton, 32, a lot right now, and it couldn’t happen to a more grateful individual. His conversation is peppered with “I’m so lucky”, “It’s a privilege”, “One of the joys”, etc. His first Hollywood studio production, Flatliners, is about to hit cinemas. It’s a remake of Mr Joel Schumacher’s cult 1990 psycho horror, which starred Mr Keifer Sutherland and Ms Julia Roberts, about a group of medical students experimenting with near-death experiences. In the remake, Mr Norton stars opposite Ms Ellen Page and Mr Diego Luna. And he’s taking the lead as the son of a Russian mobster in McMafia, a BBC/AMC international co-production that stands out in the autumn TV schedules. “One of those situations where everything is in place, and all you need to do as an actor is not fuck it up,” he says.

One of the co-writers is Mr David Farr, who adapted Mr John Le Carré’s The Night Manager for BBC, which was widely seen as Mr Tom Hiddleston’s audition for the role of James Bond. So it will do Mr Norton’s chances of leapfrogging his fellow Cambridge graduate on the shortlist no harm at all. They’re both 8/1 with William Hill. “It’s nice to be in that conversation,” he says. “But I’m certainly not saying no to stuff because I’m holding out for that.”

For now, Mr Norton has asked me to meet him at the National Theatre in London. I assume he’s in rehearsals for some top-secret project (though he does confess an ambition to play Hamlet here one day), but no, he just wants to spare me an off-Tube trip to Peckham in south London, where he lives. He turns up in “vegan trainers”, made by Veja, black Levi’s and an old grey cashmere jumper, with what looks like a duelling wound on his neck but turns out to be a scar from an operation on an old rugby injury. He is profusely apologetic for being approximately five minutes late. And prays leave for another 60 seconds of my patience so he can purchase a croissant.

He’s a Type 1 diabetic and a “little munch” will ensure he doesn’t die during the course of our interview. Mr James Geoffrey Ian Norton grew up in a timeless bit of North Yorkshire and remains a country boy at heart. It is rare that he passes a body of water in which he doesn’t want to take a dip. “I love being outside, swimming in the lido or Shadwell Basin,” he says. “There’s a bridge near where my parents live where you can jump in. It’s so wholesome and English.” His dream is to have a river in his garden, so he can frolic among the trout and herons each morning. His childhood was idyllic but also instructive. Both his parents are academics, both took an equal role in domestic duties and both encouraged reasoned debates around the kitchen table. Young Mr Norton was sent to Ampleforth boarding school (posh, monastic, Catholic) and went on to study theology and philosophy at Fitzwilliam College, Cambridge, before a spell at the Royal Academy of Dramatic Arts. People often assume he’s religious – the dog collar he wears for the 1950s period piece Grantchester doesn’t help – but he says his youthful interest in Christ was more one of “moral intrigue and the love of storytelling. I loved the gospel reading at mass every Sunday. But it became a relationship of intrigue rather than belief. And most of my degree was about Hinduism and Buddhism in any case.”

Still, you can see why he makes such a convincing vicar in Grantchester and why he’d want to break away from that mode. “I remember early on in my career people would say to me things like, ‘You have a very period face.’ I was like, what does that mean? They’d seen me in a couple of period dramas and imagined that would be my career.”

So he was elated when the supremely depressing Happy Valley came along. Ms Sally Wainwright’s critically lauded BBC series (now streaming on Netflix) gave him the chance to play a working-class ex-convict whose soul descends to the very depths of hell. “I will be forever grateful for that role,” he says. “To be given the opportunity to prove myself like that was just great.” He sees each role as a licence to go out and learn. “Not just from an academic point of view, but in an emotional, embodied way. The word we always use is empathy. There’s nothing more powerful than that. I’d never managed to empathise with a serial killer from any article about them, but when you’re actually inhabiting them, you have to learn to love them, however abhorrent they are.”

I guess it’s about getting to know the part of yourself that could kidnap and torture, were circumstances different. “It’s like undergoing a crude form of psychoanalysis on your own,” says Mr Norton, but confesses that it’s also kind of fun. “I’ve been wary talking about this because it could be misconstrued,” he says slowly. “But it was incredibly empowering not to care at all what people think, to go the other way and want people to be afraid of me. For someone like me, who goes around the whole time being very polite, to be allowed to spend some time not giving a fuck what people think was fucking cool.” He smiles bashfully. “I remember walking on set and seeing people’s reactions to me with a skinhead and tattoos. People started to treat me completely differently.”

He’s no method actor. He and his co-star, Ms Sarah Lancashire, tried to keep the mood light between scenes. But still, he found Tommy hard to shake off. “He’s so mistrusting of the world,” he says. “The sadness in that character was that he thought the world was so inherently hostile that the kindest thing he could do for his son was to take him away from this suffering. That’s dark.” He was haunted by “weird, dark dreams, me being horribly abusive”.

McMafia ought to draw on similarly dark currents, albeit in more glamorous circumstances. Mr Norton plays Alex, a “Michael Corleone-type Russian guy”, who ends up being pulled back into the family business (crime, extortion, money laundering) despite his efforts to escape. “His dad was a Mafia boss who was exiled by Putin, but Alex has tried to turn his back on that and set up his life properly, with a fiancée and a good job.” Mr Norton is particularly excited about this one. Mr Farr’s co-writer is Mr Hossein Amini, who created Mr Ryan Gosling’s tour de force Drive, and it’s inspired by investigative journalist Mr Misha Glenny’s book. The cast includes highly respected Russian actor Mr Aleksey Serebryakov (from Leviathan) plus a host of stars from Israel, Mexico, Brazil and Turkey. “It was such an interesting set,” says Mr Norton. “I don’t think there can have been many casts like it. And with what’s going on with Trump, Russia, the Panama Papers, all that, basically our show lifts up the curtain and shows what state-level corruption looks like. The Mafia isn’t a family with a protection racket in a city. It’s a multi-national globalised corporation where all the parts are linked. You always want to be chasing the zeitgeist. With this, for the first time in my life, I felt the zeitgeist was chasing us.”

On Flatliners, he seems a little more tentative, perhaps wary of incurring the wrath of fans of the original movie. “Everyone remembers it very fondly,” he says. But it was the first time he’d been let loose in a big studio. “The money, the toys, the stunts – Ellen and Diego had done all that before, but I was like this token Brit, running around having lots of fun.”

As for the other sides of success, he’s readjusting. Last we heard, Mr Norton was in a relationship with Ms Jessie Buckley, the English actress who played his sister in War & Peace, but when I ask about his love life he makes a complicated face and asks if we can avoid this particular subject. “Having this dream job, it compromises family, friends, relationship, because you’re always away,” he says. “I have 12 cousins and we’re all very close, but there have been a few family occasions where I’m the only one who isn’t there. And your relationships do take hits.”

He’s politically engaged, too – “As I think we all are right now” – but isn’t sure if and when to use his celebrity to promote his causes. “I must be the most boring person to follow on Twitter,” he says. He essayed a few politically themed tweets recently, but found the response a bit dismaying. “I tweeted a photo from an anti-Brexit march a few months ago, and said, ‘Let’s get behind a second referendum, there is hope!’ and I’ve never received so much hate and vitriol. And I thought, what’s the point? Well, there is a point, but maybe that’s not the right way to make it. Maybe it’s better to start a conversation, to listen rather than to shout.”

That doesn’t seem a bad idea. He’s itching to get behind the camera, he says. He has stories he’d like to tell. “I don’t want to be sanctimonious, but I’m interested in using my voice as an artist to…” He trails off – that English habit of not quite finishing his sentences – before remarking how much he admired Mr Ken Loach’s I, Daniel Blake, a devastating indictment of the British welfare system. But it seems his own thoughts are more to do with young men and their place in the world. He’s been reading Narcissus And Goldmund by Mr Hermann Hesse, which is about two monks taking divergent paths through the world – one as an artist, one as a thinker – at the time of the Black Death. It seems to have struck a chord.

“There’s a lot of confusion now about men’s place in the world,” says Mr Norton. “There needs to be a conversation. I’m putting together a script about how a young man deals with that confusion. We’re being pulled in different directions. I think for women, the feminist movement is a lot clearer. And we do need to redress pay inequality and, of course, men are implicated in that. But we also need to recalibrate our own position. Men whose identity is to do with being a protector and provider and full of testosterone are finding it harder.”

When it comes to redressing the gender imbalance, however, he seems more than happy to take one for the team. He is a reliable source of “phwoar”-style headlines in newspapers. “Female actors have been putting up with this tenfold for ever,” he says. “So I don’t feel male actors have a particular right to cry out about this. I don’t feel objectified, put it that way.”

[jamesginortonblog]

Words by Mr Richard Godwin

Photography by Mr Mark Kean

Styling by Ms Eilidh Greig, Fashion Editor, MR PORTER

Mr James Norton is not a man to be underestimated. The first time I noticed the London-born, Yorkshire-raised actor, he was playing an earnest young lover in Death Comes To Pemberley, a cosy whodunnit set in the world of Ms Jane Austen’s Pride And Prejudice. I had him down as a production-line fop, the kind that elite English schools crank out as reliably as the Disney Club cranks out Mouseketeers. He seemed… nice. Agreeable. The sort of teacake your granny would like.

I certainly couldn’t see him pulling off someone such as Tommy Lee Royce in Happy Valley, the most haunting TV psychopath of recent years. Or earning admiring reviews from the Russians for playing their national literary hero, Prince Andrei Bolkonsky, in the all-star BBC adaptation of War & Peace. But in projects as varied as the clerical mystery Grantchester and dystopian drama Black Mirror, Mr Norton has demonstrated that enviable quality – range – and has configured his career to use it to the fullest.

“That’s the joy,” he says. “Most actors would agree that the reason why you go into the job is that there’s a hunger for experience, a general inquisitiveness. When you have a group of actors at a restaurant, everyone will try everything. It’s not just a sensory thing. It’s about wanting to suck up everything that life can offer.”

Life is offering Mr Norton, 32, a lot right now, and it couldn’t happen to a more grateful individual. His conversation is peppered with “I’m so lucky”, “It’s a privilege”, “One of the joys”, etc. His first Hollywood studio production, Flatliners, is about to hit cinemas. It’s a remake of Mr Joel Schumacher’s cult 1990 psycho horror, which starred Mr Keifer Sutherland and Ms Julia Roberts, about a group of medical students experimenting with near-death experiences. In the remake, Mr Norton stars opposite Ms Ellen Page and Mr Diego Luna. And he’s taking the lead as the son of a Russian mobster in McMafia, a BBC/AMC international co-production that stands out in the autumn TV schedules. “One of those situations where everything is in place, and all you need to do as an actor is not fuck it up,” he says.

One of the co-writers is Mr David Farr, who adapted Mr John Le Carré’s The Night Manager for BBC, which was widely seen as Mr Tom Hiddleston’s audition for the role of James Bond. So it will do Mr Norton’s chances of leapfrogging his fellow Cambridge graduate on the shortlist no harm at all. They’re both 8/1 with William Hill. “It’s nice to be in that conversation,” he says. “But I’m certainly not saying no to stuff because I’m holding out for that.”

For now, Mr Norton has asked me to meet him at the National Theatre in London. I assume he’s in rehearsals for some top-secret project (though he does confess an ambition to play Hamlet here one day), but no, he just wants to spare me an off-Tube trip to Peckham in south London, where he lives. He turns up in “vegan trainers”, made by Veja, black Levi’s and an old grey cashmere jumper, with what looks like a duelling wound on his neck but turns out to be a scar from an operation on an old rugby injury. He is profusely apologetic for being approximately five minutes late. And prays leave for another 60 seconds of my patience so he can purchase a croissant.

He’s a Type 1 diabetic and a “little munch” will ensure he doesn’t die during the course of our interview. Mr James Geoffrey Ian Norton grew up in a timeless bit of North Yorkshire and remains a country boy at heart. It is rare that he passes a body of water in which he doesn’t want to take a dip. “I love being outside, swimming in the lido or Shadwell Basin,” he says. “There’s a bridge near where my parents live where you can jump in. It’s so wholesome and English.” His dream is to have a river in his garden, so he can frolic among the trout and herons each morning. His childhood was idyllic but also instructive. Both his parents are academics, both took an equal role in domestic duties and both encouraged reasoned debates around the kitchen table. Young Mr Norton was sent to Ampleforth boarding school (posh, monastic, Catholic) and went on to study theology and philosophy at Fitzwilliam College, Cambridge, before a spell at the Royal Academy of Dramatic Arts. People often assume he’s religious – the dog collar he wears for the 1950s period piece Grantchester doesn’t help – but he says his youthful interest in Christ was more one of “moral intrigue and the love of storytelling. I loved the gospel reading at mass every Sunday. But it became a relationship of intrigue rather than belief. And most of my degree was about Hinduism and Buddhism in any case.”

Still, you can see why he makes such a convincing vicar in Grantchester and why he’d want to break away from that mode. “I remember early on in my career people would say to me things like, ‘You have a very period face.’ I was like, what does that mean? They’d seen me in a couple of period dramas and imagined that would be my career.”

So he was elated when the supremely depressing Happy Valley came along. Ms Sally Wainwright’s critically lauded BBC series (now streaming on Netflix) gave him the chance to play a working-class ex-convict whose soul descends to the very depths of hell. “I will be forever grateful for that role,” he says. “To be given the opportunity to prove myself like that was just great.” He sees each role as a licence to go out and learn. “Not just from an academic point of view, but in an emotional, embodied way. The word we always use is empathy. There’s nothing more powerful than that. I’d never managed to empathise with a serial killer from any article about them, but when you’re actually inhabiting them, you have to learn to love them, however abhorrent they are.”

I guess it’s about getting to know the part of yourself that could kidnap and torture, were circumstances different. “It’s like undergoing a crude form of psychoanalysis on your own,” says Mr Norton, but confesses that it’s also kind of fun. “I’ve been wary talking about this because it could be misconstrued,” he says slowly. “But it was incredibly empowering not to care at all what people think, to go the other way and want people to be afraid of me. For someone like me, who goes around the whole time being very polite, to be allowed to spend some time not giving a fuck what people think was fucking cool.” He smiles bashfully. “I remember walking on set and seeing people’s reactions to me with a skinhead and tattoos. People started to treat me completely differently.”

He’s no method actor. He and his co-star, Ms Sarah Lancashire, tried to keep the mood light between scenes. But still, he found Tommy hard to shake off. “He’s so mistrusting of the world,” he says. “The sadness in that character was that he thought the world was so inherently hostile that the kindest thing he could do for his son was to take him away from this suffering. That’s dark.” He was haunted by “weird, dark dreams, me being horribly abusive”.

McMafia ought to draw on similarly dark currents, albeit in more glamorous circumstances. Mr Norton plays Alex, a “Michael Corleone-type Russian guy”, who ends up being pulled back into the family business (crime, extortion, money laundering) despite his efforts to escape. “His dad was a Mafia boss who was exiled by Putin, but Alex has tried to turn his back on that and set up his life properly, with a fiancée and a good job.” Mr Norton is particularly excited about this one. Mr Farr’s co-writer is Mr Hossein Amini, who created Mr Ryan Gosling’s tour de force Drive, and it’s inspired by investigative journalist Mr Misha Glenny’s book. The cast includes highly respected Russian actor Mr Aleksey Serebryakov (from Leviathan) plus a host of stars from Israel, Mexico, Brazil and Turkey. “It was such an interesting set,” says Mr Norton. “I don’t think there can have been many casts like it. And with what’s going on with Trump, Russia, the Panama Papers, all that, basically our show lifts up the curtain and shows what state-level corruption looks like. The Mafia isn’t a family with a protection racket in a city. It’s a multi-national globalised corporation where all the parts are linked. You always want to be chasing the zeitgeist. With this, for the first time in my life, I felt the zeitgeist was chasing us.”

On Flatliners, he seems a little more tentative, perhaps wary of incurring the wrath of fans of the original movie. “Everyone remembers it very fondly,” he says. But it was the first time he’d been let loose in a big studio. “The money, the toys, the stunts – Ellen and Diego had done all that before, but I was like this token Brit, running around having lots of fun.”

As for the other sides of success, he’s readjusting. Last we heard, Mr Norton was in a relationship with Ms Jessie Buckley, the English actress who played his sister in War & Peace, but when I ask about his love life he makes a complicated face and asks if we can avoid this particular subject. “Having this dream job, it compromises family, friends, relationship, because you’re always away,” he says. “I have 12 cousins and we’re all very close, but there have been a few family occasions where I’m the only one who isn’t there. And your relationships do take hits.”

He’s politically engaged, too – “As I think we all are right now” – but isn’t sure if and when to use his celebrity to promote his causes. “I must be the most boring person to follow on Twitter,” he says. He essayed a few politically themed tweets recently, but found the response a bit dismaying. “I tweeted a photo from an anti-Brexit march a few months ago, and said, ‘Let’s get behind a second referendum, there is hope!’ and I’ve never received so much hate and vitriol. And I thought, what’s the point? Well, there is a point, but maybe that’s not the right way to make it. Maybe it’s better to start a conversation, to listen rather than to shout.”

That doesn’t seem a bad idea. He’s itching to get behind the camera, he says. He has stories he’d like to tell. “I don’t want to be sanctimonious, but I’m interested in using my voice as an artist to…” He trails off – that English habit of not quite finishing his sentences – before remarking how much he admired Mr Ken Loach’s I, Daniel Blake, a devastating indictment of the British welfare system. But it seems his own thoughts are more to do with young men and their place in the world. He’s been reading Narcissus And Goldmund by Mr Hermann Hesse, which is about two monks taking divergent paths through the world – one as an artist, one as a thinker – at the time of the Black Death. It seems to have struck a chord.

“There’s a lot of confusion now about men’s place in the world,” says Mr Norton. “There needs to be a conversation. I’m putting together a script about how a young man deals with that confusion. We’re being pulled in different directions. I think for women, the feminist movement is a lot clearer. And we do need to redress pay inequality and, of course, men are implicated in that. But we also need to recalibrate our own position. Men whose identity is to do with being a protector and provider and full of testosterone are finding it harder.”

When it comes to redressing the gender imbalance, however, he seems more than happy to take one for the team. He is a reliable source of “phwoar”-style headlines in newspapers. “Female actors have been putting up with this tenfold for ever,” he says. “So I don’t feel male actors have a particular right to cry out about this. I don’t feel objectified, put it that way.”

Flatliners is out on 29 September