#domestic adler (?)
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Day 3. Fluff / Angst 🍳
#signalis#signalis falke#signalis adler#fklr#adlr#falklerweek2024#I regret making the prompts for today so nonspesific BUT! it gives me the perfect excuse to draw them in a domestic au cackles evilly#i had fun with the decoration on dis one..... i <3 decoration stamps so muck........#myth.art
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flax, dead already
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laughing thinking about adler having to do the most mundane things when he’s back home. like what do you mean russell adler has to go to the dentist
#domestic adler (?)#like the image of him twiddling his thumbs in a dentist chair…#😭#im at the dentist rn thinking abt this LMFAO#russell adler#hilda speaks
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TF 141 and Los Vaqueros Members (From COD MW Reboot) and Rouge Black Ops Members (From Black Ops Origins) x Initial D JDM & Non-JDM Car list (My Version) :
Team : Akina Speed Force 141
John Price - 2002 Nissan Skyline GT-R M-Spec Nür (BNR34)
Kate Laswell - 1998 Subaru Impreza 22B STi Premium Coupe (GC8)
Alex Keller - 1983 Toyota Sprinter Trueno GT-Apex 1600 3-Door (AE86) ('95 Corolla Levin GT-Apex 1.8L 4A-GE 20v Silvertop Engine Swap and '13 ZN6 GT86 TRD 6-Speed Manual Swap)
Koenig - 1997 Honda NSX Type S "Zero" (NA1) ('02 NA2 NSX-R 6-Speed Manual Swap)
Simon "Ghost" Riley - 2002 Mazda RX-7 Spirit R Type A (FD3S)
Johnny "Soap MacTavish - 2013 Subaru BRZ Premium (ZC6) ('02 JZA80 Supra RZ Twin Turbo 3.0L 2JZ-GTE VVT-i Engine Swap)
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick - 1999 Nissan Silvia Spec R Aero (S15) (2.8L HKS High Response RB26DETT Engine Swap)
Farah Karim - 1995 Honda Civic SIR-II (EG6) ('18 FK8 Mugen Civic Type R K20C1 Engine Swap and '18 FK8 Mugen Civic Type R 6-Speed Manual Swap)
Nikolai - 2000 Mitsubishi Lancer Evolution VI GSR Tommi Makinen Edition (CP9A) ('05 CT9A Lancer Evolution VIII MR FQ-400 6-Speed Manual Swap)
Mara - 1998 Toyota Supra RZ-S Twin Turbo (JZA80)
Sergei Race Nov - 1991 Mazda Savanna RX-7 Infini III (FC3S)
Team : Los Vaqueros Southern Alliance
Alejandro Vargas - 1995 Toyota Supra RZ Twin-Turbo (JZA80)
Rodolfo "Rudy Vargas - 1993 Nissan Skyline GT-R V-Spec N1 (BNR32)
Team : Team RBO (Rouge Black Ops) 268
Frank Woods - 1994 Nissan Skyline GT-R V-Spec II N1 (BNR32) ('01 BNR34 GT-R V-SPEC II N1 6-Speed Manual Swap)
Russell Adler - 1997 Toyota Supra RZ Twin-Turbo (JZA80)
Alex Mason - 1996 BMW M3 Coupe 3.2 (E36) ('04 E46 M3 6-Speed Manual Swap)
Grigori Weaver - 1990 Ford Mustang GT V8 5.0 (Foxbody)
Jason Hudson - 1973 Porsche 911 Carrera RSR 2.8 (930)
William "Case" Calderon - 1998 Mazda RX-7 Type RS (FD3S) ('04 SE3P RX-8 Mazdaspeed 6-Speed Manual Swap)
Bell (Male) - 2003 BMW M3 CSL (E46) ('04 E46 M3 6-Speed Manual Swap)
Bell (Female) - 1991 Nissan 180SX Type II (RPS13) (Getrag 420G 6-Speed Manual Swap)
Troy Marshall - 1999 Nissan Skyline GT-R V-Spec (BNR34)
Lawrence Sims - 1992 Honda NSX-R (NA1) ('02 NA2 NSX-R 6-Speed Manual Swap)
Helen Park - 2000 Mazda RX-7 Type RZ (FD3S) ('04 SE3P RX-8 Mazdaspeed 6-Speed Manual Swap)
Elazar Azolay - 2007 Mitsubishi Lancer Evolution IX MR FQ-360 (CT9A)
Sevati Dumas - 1998 Mitsubishi Lancer Evolution V RS (CP9A) ('04 CT9A Evo VIII MR FQ-360 6-Speed Manual Swap)
Felix Neumann - 1993 Nissan Silvia K's Aero (S13)
#john price#john mactavish#john soap mactavish#simon ghost riley#kate laswell#farah karim#alex keller#cod nikolai#initial d#jdm#cars#crossover#call of duty#modern warfare#call of duty black ops#russell adler#frank woods#alex mason#black ops#Helen Park#euro#european cars#american cars#american#edm#cod#japanese domestic market
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Blanket Hog (Sam x Rafe)
Read it here on Ao3! <3
A slight breeze tickled Rafe’s leg hair, causing him to stir in his sleep. His body shivered suddenly, jolting him upright, wide wake for no reason. The room was still dark, the clock read two twenty-three. Rafe rubbed his eyes, his mind till trying to catch up with the fact he was awake. Another breeze this time trailed up his back causing him to shiver again. “Holy shit why is it so fucking cold,” he hissed. Rafe usually slept comfortably in just his underwear, but for some reason someone decided to turn the air conditioner on before coming to bed.
“Goddamit Sam,” Rafe thought to himself once he realized Sam had turned the air conditioning on before he came to bed. Rafe stood up from the bed and groggily walked over to the unit, turning it off. As he made his way back to the bed he paused on his side, his eyes adjusted to the dark. It took him a second to realize his sleeping beauty of a husband had all the blanket leaving Rafe’s side with not even a corner of a bed sheet. Rafe sighed and gingerly crawled back into bed, scooting close to Sam.
Rafe reached his hand up to Sam’s shoulder and shook him as gently as he could. “Mmm, I’m sleeping,” Sam grumbled trying to shrug Rafe’s hand away. “I’m cold, and you have all the blanket Sam,” Rafe tried to argue as he tried to pull the blanket out from under his log of a husband to no avail. He gave Sam a shove waking the taller man with a snort. “What do you want Rafe?” Sam said peevishly. “Uhh, the fucking blanket perhaps,” Rafe said snidely as he made another attempt to pull on the blanket. Sam rolled onto his back pinning more of the blanket beneath him, he stifled a giggle as he could sense Rafe’s frustration.
“You motherfucker,” Rafe tried to sound madder than he was. He could feel the bed shake slightly as Sam was trying not to laugh. Rafe promptly slapped Sam square in the chest causing Sam out a winded laugh. “What was that for?” Sam laughed as he tried to rub away the stinging sensation on his chest. “Don’t play stupid with me Drake. You’re being a blanket hog, I just want to go back sleep Samuel,” Rafe whined as he flopped down onto the mattress in defeat. He crossed his arms on his chest feigning his upset. Sam shifted on the bed now facing Rafe, in one motion he tossed part of the blanket over his pouting husband.
“You know, you could have asked me nicely for the blanket instead of acting like a big baby,” Sam teased. Sam’s leg hooked around Rafe’s, and a warm hand snaked its way around Rafe’s waist pulling him towards Sam engulfing him in the other man’s body heat. “Mm, you still love me, don’t you?” Rafe quipped. “Oh, I don’t think I get much of a choice, do I?” Sam replied with a giggle.
“Oh, don’t even start,” Rafe giggled as he gently jabbed Sam’s ribs with his elbow. Sam laughed and pulled Rafe in for a brief kiss before snuggling against his husband. “You know I love you Rafe, I always do,” Sam said languidly. Rafe chuckled “I love you too Sam”. Sam’s grip around Rafe’s waist tightened in response to his sentiment. Moments passed and Rafe could hear Sam’s soft snores. The warmth engulfed Rafe’s senses and he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.
END
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I do wonder how contrived the Replika names in Signalis are like they're obviously at least slightly contrived to fit the bird thing but the bird thing is kind of so irrelevant to anything that actually happens I kinda suspect most of it is just the things being named then the writer finds a bird that kinda sounds like the abbreviation
#logxx#All the abbreviations end w R so even Elster and Adler are probably not that contrived#That being said Most of the bird names r fairly obvious#So probably at least a little contrived#The main thing is just again the bird assignment seems almost entirely random#Like there's no reason that owls are assigned domestic tasks or that hummingbirds are therapists or that macaws are dipshit grunts#And shit like Adler (Eagle) being inferior to Falke (Falcon) is really contrary to the symbology generally associated w those birds#The only one whose name actually seems potentially meaningful is Elster which like duh she's the player character
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Ushijima Wakatoshi Fic Recs!!(Tumblr/AO3/Wattpad)
Haikyuu! Fic Rec Masterlist
Shiratorizawa Fic Rec Masterlist
Shoot the ball ✨✨💖by alkhale (enemies to friends to lovers, pinning, fluff) As captain of the dying Shiratorizawa Kyudo Club, you're sick and tired of the biased favoritism that goes to the showier sports. Especially the worst of them all—the boy's volleyball team. You're determined make the entire school a fan of your archery. You just didn't know that you had a fan from the start. [COMPLETED]
I Believe You’re My Soulmate✨✨ by @sleepybutwriting (oneshot, soulmate au, humor) Soulmate AU where the first thing your soulmate says to you is written on your wrist. With the phrase you got, you always pictured your soulmate as some nerdy guy, but boy are you wrong. [COMPLETED]
porphyra✨✨ by deltachye (fluff)Despite the uniform of regality, he wasn’t a King but rather an Ace; and he’d long since stolen the title of your Ace of Hearts. [COMPLETED]
Bitter/sweet ✨by krystallisert (oneshot, fake dating, smut )“You could just get a girlfriend, you know,” he continues, hands at his hips. “Or a boyfriend, if that’s what you’re into.” [COMPLETED]
habits of my heart ✨✨by heartcondemned (first love, fluff, heartbreak)In your second year at Shiratorizawa you form an unlikely friendship with the school's golden boy that takes your life in directions you never expected. Fate has a funny way of bringing together the most unlikely people. [ONGOING]
Prodigy by infinitely hopeful Being the daughter of a prodigy volleyball player from Shiratorizawa meant that the demon coach entrusted no one else but you to manage the boys' volleyball team but you need to prove yourself to the captain who feels your role is unnecessary. [COMPLETED]
Red Thread. ✨by deltachye (soulmate au, angst, domestic fluff, eventual smut, )What do you do when your soulmate loves volleyball more than he’ll ever love you? [COMPLETED]
Story Time ✨by @oreosmama (oneshot, fluff)When you are assigned a partner project with the intimidating Ushiwaka, you start to realize he’s not all that scary, and maybe, just maybe you could teach him a thing or two about Happily Ever Afters. [COMPLETED]
Sober Thoughts✨ by @oreosmama (oneshot, angst to fluff, skippable smut scene!!)Drunk and full of bad decisions, you decide to walk to Tendou’s apartment to wallow in hopelessness over your feelings for Ushijima. But wait… why is Tendou taller and bulkier than usual? [COMPLETED]
you are jealous but you can't do anything because you're not dating him ✨✨by @screamin-abt-haikyuu (oneshot, childhood friends, angst to fluff) You think Ushijima isn't interested in dating.... even if the new student is a famous actress ...right? [COMPLETED]
Wine and Movie Pt 1| Pt 2 | Pt 3 by @seokiloquy [COMPLETED]
Impress Me Not by @seokiloquy ()oneshot, fluff[COMPLETED]
in proximity✨ by @lcvemiyuki (oneshot, fluff)ushijima asking for help on English is one thing--him sitting just inches away from you is another [COMPLETED]
Love is pain ✨ by @lou-struck (oneshot, fluff, soulmate au) People who share the same heart are led to each other by their pain which gets more intense the closer the two of you get. Imagine how you feel going to a Schweden Adlers game only to feel a blinding pain in your fingers when their Ace makes a block. [COMPLETED]
I need a challenge by @liillyliilly (oneshot, journalist! reader) [COMPLETED]
baby fever by @noosayog (oneshot, implied smut) Ushijima gets baby fever after seeing you with Iwaizumi's kid. [COMPLETED]
from no one to someone by @ennoshitas-princess (oneshot, fluff)You and Ushi-kun have known each other since middle school but never interacted, until he was stuck on some of the problems on an assignment. Sharing lunches and walking together. [COMPLETED]
Morning Runs by @karasuno-chaos (oneshot, fluff) Morning runs with your fiance. [COMPLETED]
In Time ✨by kaientai (soulmate au, fluff)In which Ushijima Wakatoshi firmly disbelieves in the success rate of soulmate-based relationships and you're too devoted to them for your own good. [COMPLETED]
Page 304 by deltachye (fluff, angst)Love had never really had that much meaning to him. It was just a word on the 304th page of the dictionary and that was it. Until one day, he flipped to the 304th page and thought of you. [COMPLETED]
drowning in a dream✨ by ealynwrites (fluff, humor, idiots in love, jealousy)where ushijima wakatoshi assumes they are dating, when in fact she has no idea.
real by @somethinginthethunder (oneshot, fluff) Ushijima Wakatoshi wonders if what he’s bringing to the table in this relationship is enough. At least, for you. [COMPLETED]
Hot Springs by @t0wnspersonb (oneshot, smut, fluff) You couldn’t remember the last time you and Ushijima got to spend proper time together, so when he suggests going to the hot springs for a date how could you refuse? Although, you two are doing a bit more than just enjoying the hot water. [COMPLETED]
you and wakatoshi have a fight by @pies-writes-and-more (oneshot, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort) [COMPLETED]
Sunshine by yril (arranged marriage, fluff, angst) You found a good job with a high salary, but it turns out it was high for a reason. You were about to change your mind but they offer it to be doubled. [ONGOING]
soulmate au with professor by @setter-crush-central (oneshot, soulmate au) You both have matching tattoo lines. [COMPLETED]
jealous by @pies-writes-and-more (oneshot, fluff) [COMPLETED]
rumor has it | part two by @bokutosworld (fluff) among the things you imagined happening on a Friday, being the subject of rumors wasn’t one of them. [COMPLETED]
The Eagle and The Rabbit by @t0wnspersonb (onneshot)Your directional skills weren’t the best, but it never mattered as long as Ushijima was by your side. But what happens when he’s not? [COMPLETED]
How He Shows You Affection by @jayeray-hq (fluff, oneshot) [COMPLETED]
Is Ushijima Wakatoshi a Domestic Deity or Dud? by @jayeray-hq (fluff, oneshot) [COMPLETED]
oneshot by @omisu (oneshot, fluff, strangers to lovers)your long-time coworker turned friend, Kuroo, sets you up on a date with one of his finest clienteles. [COMPLETED]
#fic recs#fanfic#fic rec#fanfiction#fanfic rec#recommendations#fanfic recommendation#recs#fics#fanfics#haikyū!!#haikyuu!!#haikyuu#haikyu x reader#ushijima fluff#ushijima wakatoshi#ushijima x reader#haikyuu ushijima#hq ushijima#wakatoshi x reader#haikyuu wakatoshi#hq wakatoshi#haikyu fluff#haikyu smut#shiratorizawa
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Can I just say, black ops 6 has given us everything we've ever wanted.
Actual gameplay of a cod squad living together and signs of domesticity between them.
Spoilers I think?
They have a gaming system set up!
Someone, Case I believe, has drawn members of the squad.
They actually seem to get along and enjoy living together despite their situation.
The best example is Woods and Adler with Case. There's a stark difference between how they interact with Case compared to Bell. Adler is there to control bell (i dont wanna talk about how Adler causes Case to glitch out as if hes also under Adlers control), he keeps him at a safe distance, Woods doesn't trust Bell but can joke around with him and be friendly. They both trust and respect Case. Case and Woods casually hang with each other. Woods trusts Case enough to tell him about David before anyone else. Hell, Case trusts Woods enough to try and tell him about The Cradle.
Felix cooks for them, has them play food taster.
They have fire pits together.
They open up to each other (sorry case)
They work to make the safehouse a home. They protect it, they repair it. They have their own bedrooms.
They are a family. Such a family dynamic that every fanfic has ever dreamed off.
But because its not ghost or soap related. I bet it'll get nearly no attention.
#william case calderon#frank woods#russell adler#black ops 6#idk if its spoilers or not so#bo6 spoilers#troy marshall#sevati dumas#felix neumann
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Hi bb 💕 the premiere of TLOU was so damn good and I’m so excited for the rest of the season! If you’re still writing for Joel and taking requests could we maybe have some domestic fluff with pre-outbreak Joel? Hopefully that’s enough to go off of! ☺️☺️💗
AN | I couldn’t help myself, dinner is served, bone app the teeth. It’s just fluff with a lil foreshadowing! Enjoy ❤️
Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader
Warnings | Language
Word Count | 2k
Masterlist | Joel, Main
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
It was an early fall day that found you walking over to the Adler’s house and knocking on the door only to be greeted excitedly by Mercy’s barking. As soon as the door was open, the fluffy dog pushed his way past the screen door and over to you, weaving around your legs, tail wagging wildly as you reached down to pet him.
“Sorry about him, sweetheart,” Mrs. Adler looked at the dog with a raised eyebrow, “he just loves people, but you know that by now.”
“Good thing I love him too. Huh buddy, you’re such a good boy,” you bent down and scratched his ears before kissing his snout, “is Sarah here? I just got to their house and wanted to see if she wanted to come home and help me with some baking.”
“She is,” the screen door opened and you stepped inside, immediately overwhelmed by the smell of cooking and that odor that older homes often had. You spotted the young girl at the kitchen table, but as soon as she heard you, she turned around with a huge smile, “do you girls want to stay for dinner?”
“No,” you and Sarah chorused before looking at each other sheepishly. You gave her a wink before clearing your throat.
“Thank you for the offer,” you smiled sweetly, “Joel’s going to be home soon and we’d promised him some cookies so…we’d better get to baking!”
“Of course,” she seemed unphased by your lame excuse, which to be fair wasn’t a total lie, “well, you know you’re both welcome any time. And Joel.”
“Thank you,” you grabbed Sarah’s backpack as soon as it was packed up and herded the young girl towards the door, “have a good evening.”
As soon as the two of you were outside, after having given Mercy a few more pets, you exchanged a look before both breaking into a fit of giggles.
“You came just in time,” Sarah sighed dramatically, “she was just about to start knitting and insisted on showing me how to knit today.”
“I knew I was getting some distressed vibes for a reason,” you gently nudged her side with your elbow, “don’t worry kiddo, I’ll always be there to save you. Especially from old ladies and their knitting. I can’t imagine a worse fate.”
“Seriously,” she unlocked the door and the two of you stepped into the Millers’ quiet house. You liked it here, it felt so homey and lived in, filled with lots of laughs and love. You cringed when you realized how cheesy that sounded, even in your head, but it was true. In the almost two years you’d been with Joel, it had all but become your home too, “did you mean it when you said we’re doing some baking?”
“Sarah, my sweet Sarah,” you kicked off your shoes as you made your way into the kitchen, laughing internally at the half consumed glass of orange juice and cup of coffee from this morning. They had been running late…again. How very on brand for both of them, “would I ever lie to you?”
“You haven’t yet,” she grinned as you nodded.
“And I expected you to always be truthful with me,” you put the dirty dishes into the sink, “did you get all your homework finished?”
“Yup,” she grinned, “finished it with enough time to even sell some hardcore drugs.”
“I’m impressed,” you snorted in amusement, “you managed to get to Mrs. Adler’s, do your homework, sell some drugs, and make it back before anyone noticed you were gone. That is some skill.”
“Totally,” she laughed as you high fived each other. Truth be told, she’d hadn’t been sure about you when Joel first introduced the two of you. And you couldn’t blame her; she was fiercely protective over her father. It had been just the two of them for basically her entire life - her mother, Joel’s wife, had left the two of them when she was only a few months old. She didn’t even remember her own mother. And the idea that a stranger was going to come and change everything? It was terrifying.
But you never pushed or forced yourself into her business, and let her warm up to you. You wondered at first if it had anything to do with the fact that you were a bit younger than Joel, but quickly learned it was all just because she loved him so much. And he loved her just as much and then some. But over time, she’d come to love you too and you loved her.
These days it was Sarah pushing Joel to just finally have you officially move in. Again, that one was on Joel. You weren’t going to push him either. This was just as new for him; you were the only person he’d dated since his wife. But you loved the Millers and you knew that your future held both of them in it. That was all that mattered.
“How about some chocolate chip cookies?” you suggested and her face eagerly lit up as she nodded, “okay but, tell me how much your dad would hate it, if we tried to make pumpkin chocolate chip cookies.”
“He’d love them, but he’d never admit it,” she said and you knew she was right, “how about we make both?”
“A grand plan,” you smiled, “throw on a record and let’s get started. Maybe we can have everything ready before he’s home.”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
“Something smells good,” neither of you had heard Joel come in, but when you turned around you found him leaning against the doorway, a lazy smile on his face. You shook your head in amusement as Sarah ran over to him and hugged, “hey baby girl.”
“You’re home early for once,” she grinned at him, and he playfully rolled his eyes, “that’s what you should be doing, as a man of such advanced age.”
“Thirty-five isn’t advanced, it’s-”
“Ancient,” you finished for him, smiling sweetly as he jokingly flipped you off, “we only tease out of love.”
“Some kind of love,” he huffed, affectionately touching Sarah’s cheek, “go on and set the dining table, okay?”
“Sure,” she smirked, looking between the two of you with a knowing little smile, “you just want to make out. I’m not a child, I know these things!”
“Table,” he groaned, taking her by the shoulders and gently ushered her out of the kitchen. She ran off, giggling under her breath, “and you are a kid!”
“Whatever!”
He turned his attention onto where you were leaning against the counter, setting his arms on either side of your body, affectionately trapping you in his grasp, “the two of you are always ganging up on me. Shoulda known you were going to be trouble.”
“Good trouble?” you reached up and put your hand on his face, swiping your thumb over the apple of his cheek. Joel always was a little rough around the edges, but you loved that about him. You loved how underneath that exterior, he had a kind, gentle heart.
“The best,” he took your hand and brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. You couldn’t stop yourself from leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. Despite his best efforts, you could still see the faintest blush in his cheeks, “just so you know, I want to make out, but I don’t want to give her the satisfaction. We’re saving this for later.”
“Aye aye,” you mock saluted him and he snorted in amusement, “we made cookies. And your favorite for dinner, so I’ll be expecting a lot of thanks later.”
“Baby,” he closed his eyes and groaned softly, “you’re killing me.”
“And you’re letting dinner burn in the oven, so move it,” you put your hands on his hips and shuffled him to the side. You felt him watching your every move closely, “stop staring at my ass and help me, please.”
“Fine,” he grumbled, but it was nothing but fondness…and it didn’t stop him from teasingly slapping your ass as you made a sound of surprise, “now I’ll help.”
“You are the worst, Joel Miller.”
What you really meant was I love you with every fiber of my being, Joel Miller.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
“Are you even paying attention to the movie?” you looked up at Joel, and nodded sleepily, pulling yourself off him as if to prove a point. You’d been lying on his chest, his arm around you for the last hour as you tried to focus on whatever silly movie he’d put on, “mhmm.”
“Shh,” you waved him off, “it’s not my fault you have terrible taste in movies.”
“This is a piece of cinema,” he joked, just as someone else on screen was getting their head chopped off, “niche cinema.”
“Sure Joel,” you yawned softly, “it’s getting late. I should-”
“Just stay baby,” he insisted and despite the fact that you knew he would, your stomach flipped happily, “I don’t want you driving late at night when you’re this tired.”
“You drive a hard bargain,” you felt his fingers wrap around your wrist as he tugged you closer to him. You were soft and malleable and let him pull you into his lap, “but you’ve convinced me to stay.”
You leaned in to kiss him, slowly at first, suddenly feeling wide awake. Your body hummed with energy as his hands found purchase on your waist and he kissed you back with just as much eagerness. He really did make good on his makeout promise from earlier. And he kissed you until you were breathless and dizzy, grinning at him shyly.
“You’re so warm and soft,” he mused as his hand dipped under your sweater and spread his fingers along your ribs, “and beautiful.”
“Is that what you say to all the girls?” you teased softly and he let out a bark of laughter.
“Just you,’ he promised, as if you needed some sort of reassurance. You beamed as you leaned into him and peppered kisses along his jaw and down his glorious neck, “you keep this up longer and-”
“We’re not having sex on the couch,” you laughed quietly, a sound that went straight to his heart. He really loved you, he thought at that moment, “where one - Sarah could walk in on us any moment and two - we all sit on here. Bedroom, Miller.”
“Fine,” he pouted and you turned his face up towards yours as you kissed the pout away. A serious look crossed his features when you pulled away, “I’ve been thinking…”
“Uh oh. That’s never a good idea-”
“Hush,” he pressed a finger to his lips and you pressed a kiss to it, “I’ve been thinking that maybe it’s time you actually moved in. Officially.”
“Yeah?” your heart swelled and felt like it was about to burst with pure happiness. He nodded and there was a gentle hopeful look in his big brown eyes that you loved, “okay y-yeah. Yes. I’d really like that too.”
“Yeah?” This time it was his turn to ask for reassurance.
“Yeah,” you promised, cradling his handsome face in your hands. You kissed him a few more times, reverent and saccharine, before you pulled back again, “bedroom?”
“You read my mind.”
“Joel?” you paused for just a moment before either of you could move, “I love you.”
“I love you too, baby.”
“Forever?”
“Forever,” he smiled softly, “and then even longer.”
#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller x fem!reader#joel miller x you#joel miller imagine#joel miller one shot#pedro pascal#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal x you#tlou#tlou hbo
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Socmed AU: Cats edition!! Still cannot believe that Sir and King are ec cannon but godbless because I could live off of domestic!andreil please and thank you. Also fun fact that photo is my friend’s cat Westley and I crocheted that little hat for him when I was cat sitting!!
Oops forgot to tag the socmed homies on my first posting!! @sapphoherselz @codename-adler @kevinsdsy
Check out more of my socmed au here <3
#it pains me to not write in contractions for Andrew#I love the idea that Andrew is the one that rescues the cats#I also think that they resemble the boys#and my Renee can crochet hc is in full effect hehe#aftg#mir socmed#andrew minyard#neil josten#renee walker#kevin day#nicky hemmick#Matt Boyd#aaron minyard#allison reynolds#andreil#all for the game#socmed au#mine
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We need less fics where Adler and Bell are living together in domestic bliss and more fics where Bell beats Adler to death with a rock where it's somehow still sexual
#bell cod#russell adler#adbell#russell adler x bell#TOO ME AT LEAST#cod cw#cod cold war#black ops cw#black ops cold war#cod#call of duty black ops cold war
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needy
adler x f!bell
summary: adler gets up for a morning cigarette. or tries to. read on ao3
tags/cw: established adlerbell, f!bell, she/her pronouns, bell is russian, fluff, light angst, no plot, drabble, smoking mention, kind of domestic i guess, bo6 adler so he's a little soft, pre-bo6 but post-panama, cw references galore, dog imagery as is synonymous w adlerbell atp, author has adhd and goes on prosaic rambles in lieu of an actual plot. this fic could have been an email?? sorry wc: 3.1k
a/n: bwuhhh this was just an excuse to write self indulgent soft morning adlerbell at the rook while i work on my actual pre-bo6 adlerbell rook fic when i have the energy . no plot, lots of rambling, once again kind of just a thinkpiece on their relationship now adler's an old fossil. idk she was doing nothing being left in my notes app ajdkhjkasjk
He reckons she’s needier these days, more than she ever used to be back in Berlin.
Sometimes he wonders if it’s just his age that makes him feel that way; that perhaps she hasn’t changed at all, and instead it’s the dust settling on his bones, rusted shrapnel over the years snagged in the joints and sinews, that makes him feel sluggish in comparison. It’s the first time in his life since Livingstone brought up the CIA’s desire for more sprightly recruits that he wonders- is he struggling to keep up?
Their reunion after all these years was a messy one: a scrap in an indistinct bar, bloodied knuckles split and bruises welted dark blue, the white of his eye burst red, the curve of her jaw swollen for a good week. Fresh after Panama. As soon as she caught wind of what happened she’d picked up his trail barely a week after he arrived in Bulgaria. Had she come to kill him? He doesn’t know. It isn’t as if she’d confess to it even if she had, and maybe he had it coming anyway. It stopped mattering at all the second the fight had descended into the alleyway, wrestled onto their backs against the cobblestone, where hands had found throats and then jaw, waist, hip, and everything else. Punches had calmed to caresses, curses to kisses, and somehow he’d found himself patching her up back at the Rook, his stray dog come home to him, like old times.
She’d eased herself back into his life easily enough then. Simple and unspoken. Or, rather, wedged her foot back in the door well enough that he couldn’t shut her out again, even if he’d wanted to (as if he hadn’t always kept it ajar all these years just to let her in, never closed, never closed). Never a word for what they are, what they have, the routine they’ve slipped almost effortlessly back into again- that hasn’t changed since the old days- and yet he doesn’t find that it robs it of meaning whatsoever.
If anything, it makes it something rare, special, his diamond in the rough, glinting sea glass washed a perfectly chiselled bead upon the shore. Just as she’d crashed along with the tide as time brought her back to him, he picked her up, tucked her gently back into that place she belonged, in between the rib and vertebrae, nestled inside him all to steady the beat of his restless heart. Her alone enough to settle the frantic, ceaseless palpitations he’s suffered nightly, since… Solovetsky? He thinks? The dull gnawing in the back of his mind all those years in between, that wasn’t sure if he was more frightened for her inevitable return or her disappearing forever, slipping through his fingers back to sea again.
He supposes it doesn’t matter anymore. That was then, and now seemed to fare much nicer.
Now, she rolls sweet and placid onto her back against the mattress, limp as a daisy in rain, soft body bowing to his careful manhandling; he’s itching for a smoke, aching for his vice the second he awoke, hours too early for his alarm. He lifts her off him delicately, almost methodical as he starts with her arm, the heavy loll of her head, her shoulder. Like defusing a bomb, he’d joked once, a comparison she’d only proven right by her explosive reaction to it.
It’s an odd feeling, though, the calm where there had once been nothing but war between them, the quiet, the warmth upon his chest now fading where she’d laid her head after he came back last night- back home, back to her- and it’s in moments like these, just mere glimpses of normalcy, that makes him wonder what could have been his life, theirs, had things not happened the way they did. MK Ultra, Berlin, Solovetsky. Perseus. Then again, he supposes, if she hadn’t been shot in Trabzon that night, if she hadn’t been there at all, then he wouldn’t have known she’d even existed. This mundane moment lost to time like everything else.
She murmurs in her sleep, spurred to wakefulness when the mattress lifts and groans at his absence, her eyes squinting through the sliver of morning light bleeding through the gap in the curtains; even when she’s completely out of it, she doesn’t miss a thing. He’s never exactly been the paragon of stealth when he excels at everything else, but even if every factor in the world had worked in his favour- if the beaten mattress wasn’t so rusted, if the ancient floorboards didn’t squeal underfoot when he stood up, if there wasn’t a constant draft on his side of the room that hit her as soon as he moved- nothing would have stopped her from registering his absence, clawing to fight off sleep just so she had an excuse to grouse at him. Ever his stubborn girl.
“Mm… where y’going…?”
Adler smiles to himself, flat but genuine, stifled by the lethargy that hangs over his head heavy as an anvil. Her accent so thick in the early hours it hardly sounds like English at all. He’s half tempted to reply in Russian, just to see if her cottonmouth tongue latches quicker to that instead.
But he doesn’t, just lingers in the doorway leading out to the hall, feeling only a little guilty for letting in the cold. It rather satisfies him instead to see her shiver and pull the blankets further over herself, keeping her right where he wants her. Right where he needs her, so he knows she’ll still be there when he comes back.
“Smoke,” is all he says, rattling the crumpled pack for her to hear.
She’s half coherent when she grumbles, English sandwiched between Russian endearments. Cussing him out.
“Y’can smoke in here… m’don’t mind. Come back to bed.”
Something tugs at his heart, almost foreign, vague. Something he only feels when she digs her claws in him just like that, even if only to graze. It’s the same certainty as when he wraps his finger around a trigger, pulls a pin, wrenches his hand around the hilt of a knife- unspoken, inevitable. The drop of a guillotine, inexorably quick. A certainty that verges on frightening, a promise, which he’s never been good at keeping, but knows she means wholeheartedly, down to her marrow. Possessiveness, he thinks- (is it irony, now, how often he finds her fist wrapped around the leash he doesn’t even notice he’s wearing?)- people not in their line of work, those with nice houses and desk jobs and white picket fences, he’s heard, call that feeling belonging. To be beckoned like that. Home.
It’s her demand that he stays. Hardly a question. And Bell doesn’t beg.
He’s sure that in her spitefulness, if he’d had a trigger phrase just like hers, she’d spit it at him ‘til he turned heel and crawled back on over to her, slid under the sheets like an apology scrawled onto a note and tucked under the door. It’s a near enough thing- the way her bleary eyes fix on him vengefully through matted lashes, searing her betrayal into him. Every morning he gets up before her, it seems to say: you left me. A petulant notion, only half serious, but one cold enough that it almost works. Frigid. Familiar. Arctic air.
It works a little at least- getting soft in your old age- because he lugs himself back over to the bed and just stands by it, refusing to give her the satisfaction of quiet victory if he climbs back inside. She stretches a languid arm flat across the mattress, rolling catlike onto her stomach, splaying her fingers in the hopes that she might somehow pull him back in to her. She manages a knuckle grazing his knee, before she gives up, pulled under by sleep once more. Head slumped against the pillow, she muffles her disdain.
But Adler is nothing if not at least a little amenable. If he’s sweet on anyone, it’s his Bell. His baby. Hard to let a thing like that go, when she was quite literally made for him. Made by him, in his image. Scraped marrow from rib like Adam, caulking the hole Arash shot through her chest and bestowed life upon her once more. He’s happy to have a piece of himself broken off and left inside her, a tithe tossed to the slab of her altar. The fracture of his soul a discarded lamb in sacrifice, sustaining the sick hunger that starves her.
It keeps them inseparable, he thinks. He’d read something somewhere, pretentious shlock about strings of fate and those bound to it- romantic crap shmucks use to justify ugly marriages and affairs, the suffering of co-dependency given some transcendent meaning, a purpose greater than the mundane. The notion that two people, by whatever higher power, are bound to one another no matter what they do to separate themselves of it, tethered from their first breath and suffering an endless togetherness until their last. He’d rolled his eyes the first time he’d heard of it- there wasn’t a world where he’d be enough of a sap to actually buy into that shit. Maybe his ex-wife might’ve been fond of it, maybe it was something she wrote into one of the letters he kept under his bunk back in ‘Nam. He doesn’t know.
But Bell made him understand it. He’d dug a grave in her when he denied her her own on that airstrip in Turkey, and he buried himself in it, over and over again. His memories, his life, his voice ringing like God’s. His favourite things, treasured, secret. His fears and doubts and worries, every little thing that made up the culmination of his being. It was never just Vietnam he put there. It was everything. She’s half himself, a faded mirror image. It only makes sense that they’d find each other again, eventually. She’d walk the earth, stalking like a bloodhound trailing his dried scent until she found him. She’d roam the endless nights, a ghost shivering their old haunts until he meanders his way back to her again, pulled along by a gnawing ache inside himself- a missing piece he’d seek the rest of his life to fill. She could track him blind. And he would feel her coming, like blood in the water. He did. He did.
It’s that tether that makes it impossible not to relent to her, when he kneels down next to the bed, knee joint cracking under his weight, the mottled floorboard doing nothing to steady him. It’s her, when she has enough leverage now to close the distance between her fingers and the collar of his shirt, curled inside the bleached cotton, fist wrenched tight. The seam digs into the back of his neck but he doesn’t let her pull him to her; he waits, making her work for it. The satisfaction that tends to follow when she does is usually worth her ingratiation.
She drags herself across the mattress, using his body as an anchor. Heavy and boneless, she lays right at the edge of the bed where he kneels, her nose nudging at his jaw as she turns, belly up like prey. Too easy a kill, he knows that. She’s gloating. The fact he’d come back at all means she’s got him right where she wants.
“C’mere,” she murmurs gently, saccharine, cloying. He’s surprised it doesn’t make her gag- the pretend domesticity of it all. Dragging her dried lips, smiling, against the underside of his jaw, her fingers sliding idle up the back of his neck, arm slung around his shoulder like she’s expecting to be carried out.
He humours her with a smirk, his blues nearly grey in the dim dark of the room as she mouths at him, vying for his attention. It’s as much a demand as her words had been, sharp as her tone as she nips at his jaw. Adler sighs, as though turning his face to gaze down at her were something laborious, and not the blessing he counts on every finger, every day, seemingly numbered since Panama. He tuts, and it says, what am I going to do with you?
But if his condescension was an attempt to dissuade her advances, it doesn’t work, because she sees right through his playful façade, and the wry smile that unfurls sleepy on her lips betrays her excitement, the sifting of her legs under the sheets audible as she squeezes them together. Needy. She knows he notices.
“Not gonna work, Bell,” he hums dryly. Yet he steals this moment of her surrender, his eyes flitting to every feature of her face. He doesn’t need to commit her to memory, she’s dug in there like a tick. But God, if he doesn’t like to look at her. He brings a rough hand down against her temple, smoothing the baby hairs back, eliciting a satisfied sigh from her as her eyes slip shut. Her head falls back against the pillow, anticipating a kiss he doesn’t give her.
“C’mon. Back to sleep. I’ll be ten minutes.”
“Five.”
“Bell.”
“Five minutes.”
Adler sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose and scrunching his eyes shut.
“C’mon,” she croons, “five minutes… n’then…”
He thinks she’s fallen back asleep, the way her sentence carries off like that into silence. But when he opens his eyes she’s blinking prettily up at him, looking far too satisfied. Just as he opens his mouth to ask why, he feels the warm press of her hand against his knee, sliding up his thigh, fingertips tugged impishly at the sweatpants he’d haphazardly thrown on. He’s lightning quick to catch her, fingers circling her wrist; where the darting action might scare a weaker person it makes Bell’s eyes light up like stars, enamoured with his roughness. Excited. The way only she could be, eager pup biting at his ankles for a reaction.
“Behave,” he scolds, giving her knuckle a cursory smack before releasing her. That must finally be enough to spoil her fun, because she huffs, growling low in her throat, and rolls back over, burrowing herself deeper into the blanket than she’d begun.
It’s always a game to her, one she doesn’t much like losing. He can’t blame her for it. It’s always been that way. Back in Berlin, he’d taught her to play poker the proper way, the American way- whatever that meant- her downfall eternally being the fact she couldn’t bluff for shit around him. And it was just him- she’d caught on quick to the play, and had triumphed a couple times against Sims and Lazar; Park had refused to indulge the game, and Woods wiped the floor with the lot of them, even Adler. But with him, Bell just couldn’t lie. He was carved from marble, impassable- what he’d been trained to do. And she was a piece chipped off his softest part, malleable- of course he’d catch every minute twitch and wince, the flitting of wet lashes, the purse of an uncertain lip. She always told him the truth even with her eyes, her heart bore on her sleeve. It almost always felt like cheating. After all, it was what she was made for, wasn’t it?
And this felt much the same way. Not as strict as the luck of dealt hands and stifled poker faces but she’s never said or done anything to him she doesn’t mean. After he missed the shot in Solovetsky, all cards were strewn on the table. There was no mystery anymore. No joy taken in a good old fashioned backstab when the real damage was done, much too late to rectify. Maybe that’s why she makes it her personal goal to poke and prod and tease him now, chasing her fun in her own way, a decade late. Suppose it’s why she hates when he doesn’t just drop the cool attitude and give in.
He rises from the floor, that same knee joint clicking again. Where she might have mumbled a curt jibe about it, she’s silent, sulking into the pillow.
But just as he goes to leave, Adler stops at the door, a foot out into the hallway, the rest of him still stuck here, stuck on her. He sees a similar image in the back of his mind, of her laid upon the gurney in Die Landebahn, halfway into the back room with a syringe in hand when for one single moment of sobriety it dawned on him, what he’d been doing to her. Nothing like guilt, but it came close. Tinged with the regret of something so shameful as affection, Cupid’s arrow dipped in kerosene, shot straight through his heart; to come out the other side, to let him survive, to let him have this, here, her, now. And it’s a torture to have lived it, to know he doesn’t deserve a lick of it. The soft rise and fall of her breath beneath the blanket. Her hair splayed upon his pillow. She buries her nose deep in the old goose feather to try and keep him where he’s left her. Hold him close even when he’s gone.
The decade’s done much to him. He’d put on a couple pounds, had to start plucking the errant greys flecking his hairline, begun to wake most mornings with a tell-tale crick in his neck. He’s learned to relax that hard line in his brow, drawn too deep to reverse the evidence of age; let himself laugh a little easier, surprised people with his newfound ability to actually smile. He’s lost a lot, gained half as much. He’d been through hell and back, worse maybe than what he did to her- his karma, he supposes. And he supposes the decade’s made him soft, sentimentality creeping in to nestle somewhere he can’t reach, hidden inside himself with all the other things he doesn’t talk about. And he supposes of everything he’s lost, he has Bell again, and all things considered- it’s a fair trade.
He sucks in a breath, a sigh made audible for her to hear. Even as she feigns sleep, he knows she catches it, a flinch of her shoulder- where the shot he missed had landed in lieu of her head. In Solovetsky.
Then, Adler sighs, followed by a promise that feels to her like a confession.
“Five minutes.”
And when the door clicks shut, Bell steals herself a little victory smile.
#idk what this is but i love them#this was v self indulgent and might be nonsense to everyone else bc like nothing happens but . yeah#actually left this in my notes for a couple weeks came back to finish it and forgot i wrote adler thinking 'his baby' about bell and wept#love having adhd forgetfulness sometimes bc i get hurt by my own writing like i didnt write the damn fic#i love adlerbell. a normal amount#my writing#adlerbell#adler#russell adler#adler x bell#russell adler x bell#adler x reader#russell adler x reader#call of duty#call of duty fanfic#call of duty x reader#call of duty black ops 6#call of duty cold war#call of duty black ops cold war#cod#cod bo6#cod bocw#cod cw#adbell
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Hi can you do anything that’s pre-outbreak of Joel and reader anniversary. It can be smut but the beginning can be Joel and Sarah planning the anniversary! I love their relationship so much
series masterlist
pairing – pre-outbreak!joel x reader
word count – 11.6k (this was supposed to be short and sweet... what happened...)
warnings – slight injuries, hospital scene but nothing major, cute smut (18+)
a/n – some more cute domestic joel stuff 🥺 with some smut hehe 😬 thank you for the request <3 I hope you like what I made with it ˙ᵕ˙ also just want to quickly take the time and thank you guys for all the love on my previous joel work, you actually made my app crash 😅🤭
Happy Anniversary?
2000
After Sarah had finished her homework at the Adler's place, she ran home and hopped onto the couch to enjoy some child-friendly TV - being stuck in a house with only people over sixty wasn't really her favourite way of spending her free time.
It didn't surprise her when her dad wasn't home at six. It also didn't surprise her when he wasn't there yet at seven. Around eight in the afternoon though, she started to wonder. The only way she could reach him was the landline, so she leaned over the armrest of the sofa to get a hold of the phone before dialling the number her father had made her know by heart back in kindergarten. It didn't even ring. The robot's voice immediately let her know that he was unavailable. With scrunched eyebrows and her lips pressed together in a tight line, she leaned back into the cushions.
There was one other person that would probably know where he was. You. Another number Joel had asked her to learn once he had noticed that things were getting serious between the two of you. The girl didn't need to wait for long before the familiar tone of your voice rang through her eyes.
"Hello?" Of course, you had the number of Joel's landline saved in your phone, but you didn't know who of the Miller household was calling.
"Hi, Y/N!"
"Oh, Sarah, hey! How are you?"
Sarah smiled, just like she always did whenever she got to talk to you. The relationship the two of you had built up over the past year she had known you, was something very special. Not only did she love the connection you, from one woman to another, but she truly felt like you had a close friendship she wouldn't want to give up. Ever.
"I'm good, thanks, how are you?"
You sighed, "Good… now that I'm home."
"Adult work isn't getting any more exciting?" She joked, making you chuckle.
"Exactly." A second of silence passed before you noticed nothing coming from her side. "Are you okay?"
Sarah made herself more comfortable on the couch, "Yup… sorry that I called you-"
"Don't worry, sweetie, trust me, hearing you right now has been the best part of the entire day."
Your comment made her grin even wider, "Well I'm happy to make your day better," to which you both giggled. "I was just wondering if you've heard anything from dad. Did he say he has to work late today?"
You let her question register in your brain before you went through the conversation you had with Joel last night since you haven't heard from today yet. "Ehm… no, I don't think he said anything about that. Isn't he home yet?"
Sarah shook her head before realising, you can't see her, "No, so I kinda thought, maybe he's still at work, but… now I don't know."
"Maybe something came up-"
"He isn't picking up." That made you go quiet. "I tried calling him, and it just went straight to his voicemail."
You bit your lip. Oh, God. You knew the stress of a parent not being at home at the usual time just all too well, remembering all the times it had happened to you as a kid and you immediately thought of the worst-case scenario.
"What about uncle Tommy?" You suggested.
The girl was just about to open her mouth and answer when the front door opened. Her head snapped to her left, eyes immediately on the familiar figure of her father entering the room.
"Wow…" she breathed out.
"What? What is it?" You hastily wondered.
"Speaking of the devil," you could hear the slight annoyance in her voice, "Guess who just walked through the door?" Joel sent her a questioning look as he walked further into the living room, throwing himself onto the couch, right next to his daughter.
You couldn't help but chuckle, "Hm… maybe your father, who once again decided to work longer and not tell us about it?"
"Mh," she grinned before turning to the man and shaking her head with a frown on her face.
A breath of relief fell from your lips as you got up from your position on one of the armchairs in your living room, "Well then, mystery solved. You better interrogate the heck out of him."
"Without you?" She gasped.
"Oh, trust me, he'll get a good talking-to from me tomorrow." Your answer received a grin from the girl, followed by a subtle devilish giggle.
"Good. Thank you for picking up, not like some other people here." Her comment was clearly directed to her father, earning her a soft shove to her upper arm, making her grin.
You smiled, "Anytime, sweetie. I guess I have to go back to my boring life now. I'll see you tomorrow."
"Yep!" The happiness and excitement radiated off that little girl, lightning up the sparkle in her eyes at the mention of the following day. "See ya! Good night, Y/N."
"Good night, Sarah."
The youngest Miller placed the phone back on the side table, before turning to the oldest one, crossing her arms in front of her chest. She cleared her throat, "What do you have to say in your defence, Sir?" Her eyes followed his movements as he leaned back into the sofa with a groan, running a hand over his face.
"I forgot to tell you-"
"Oh, really!" She quickly exclaimed, interrupting Joel, receiving a warning glance from him, making her sulk back into the cushions.
"So as I was saying," he glanced at her, "I'm sorry that I forgot to tell you that I'd be in town after work. And I forgot to charge my phone."
Sarah scrunched her eyebrows, "What were you doing in town?"
Joel groaned, getting up to look for some food in the kitchen, "I wanted to get something for Y/N for tomorrow."
His answer made the girl laugh out loud as she got up to join him in the other room, sitting down at the dining table, "Are you serious?"
He looked up at her from his crouched position as he was trying to find something to eat in the fridge. "What?"
His daughter shook her head, "You're looking for an anniversary gift one day before your anniversary?"
Joel took out the container holding dinner from two days ago, grinning when it reminded him of you. Always making sure there was food in the house he lived in. You cared for him. And his daughter. "I've been thinking about what to get her for a few days, alright? But I haven't had the time to actually go and look for it," he defended himself, but it didn't get the look off the girl's face.
"And what did you find?"
He sighed, "Nothing. That's the problem."
"What are you gonna do now?"
"I have no idea…" Sarah could tell how exhausted he must be with the heavy breath leaving his lips. But the fact that he truly cared about getting you something special made her ecstatic. "You hungry?" Her father wondered, getting a shake of her head in response,
"I ate earlier." She shot up from her seat and skipped over into the kitchen, "So?! What are you gonna do?" Leaning on the counter, eyeing her dad suspiciously as he took a bite of the cold food with a fork. That also earned him a weird look from her, but he just wanted to get something into his stomach, not caring about the temperature - your cooking was gourmet to him in any way.
"I don't know," he answered, shrugging, "I can't believe I'm so fucking bad at giving gifts." Sarah ignored the swear word, blaming his fatigue, and didn't remind him of the swear jar you and her had brought into the house two months earlier.
"What did you gift her for her birthday?"
Tomorrow would be your first anniversary together.
A full years of being an official couple. While Joel was a romantic gentleman in every way possible, buying you flowers 'just 'cause', calling you sometimes multiple times a day 'just to hear your voice', keeping you in the house over the weekends and sometimes overnight during the week 'because he could never spend too much time with you', he still was a horrible gift giver - a fact no one could deny.
But more of a problem was your inability of receiving gifts. Because you hated it. You loved giving, hated receiving - not in all parts of life though. Especially not with Joel.
Though, whenever he had asked you what you wanted for your anniversary, birthday, or even International Woman's Day, he got the same answer each time: "I don't want anything." The truth was, you truly didn't. You've never been a big fan of material things, rather finding the thought behind something and a small gesture much more meaningful and loving. All the 'little' things your partner would do for you were enough - opening doors, carrying you whenever your feet hurt and taking you out for dinner on random days, were just a few of them. Yes, it may be the bare minimum, but still a rare minimum.
A rare minimum you had never been blessed with, with any of your past boyfriends. All until you met Joel and found out what it was like to have a true man by your side.
"That necklace you told me she'd like," he reminded her, brushing a hand over the wild curls he adored so much.
Sarah nodded with an open mouth, "Aaah, right right, I remember. She really did like that." They both nodded in sync. "But do you know what she loved even more?" Making the oldest Miller's head perk up,
"What?"
His daughter grinned at him, "The poster I made for her."
"True," he couldn't help but copy her facial expression, "She did like that a lot."
"She LOVED it!" Sarah shouted out, hitting her palms on the top of the counter, "She almost cried when she saw it," followed by giving her father a side-eye look, "She only said thanks to your gift, but she had tears because of mine."
Joel glanced at her, one eyebrow raised, "What are you tryna tell me?"
"Y/N loves me more than you," she flipped an invisible strand of hair to underline her comment.
The older man smiled, "Sure."
"Buuut," she dragged out the word, leaning over to steal a piece of broccoli from the container Joel was eating out of, "I also think that she would just appreciate self-made stuff more than things you can buy."
He stopped for a second to think before nodding his head, "So you're suggesting that I what? Build something?" Sarah nodded. "And what exactly?"
"Man, what do I know… You're the contractor here." But all he could do was sigh. He was in fact the contractor, but what the hell had that something to do with anything. The man put the food to the side to make some space and place his elbows on the counter, shoving his face into his two palms, groaning out loud.
The daughter of the family stood by his side, staring at him in amusement, finding this situation much funnier than her dad. With a chuckle, she passed him placing a somewhat comforting hand on his back.
"You're a lousy gift giver." Her comment though was anything but comforting.
He straightened his back to glare down at the girl, "Thanks." But it just got a giggle out of her.
After a quick glance around the room, the idea she had been holding in, as it was supposed to stay a secret present from her to the couple, came back up into her brain. "We could bake something for her."
That caught his attention. Joel didn't hate the idea. He definitely didn't. Your sweet tooth was known to the family, added to your appreciation and love for self-made gifts turned it into the perfect present.
"We?"
Sarah scoffed, "You really think I'd trust you with baking a cake?"
"Hey," he took her statement as an offence, "I'm doing very well in the kitchen." He didn't even believe that himself.
"Pff," she patted his back once again, "Sure, dad. Sure."
"I'm a great cook, alright?" he took it one step further, but his daughter was having none of it, giggling at him while shaking her head,
"You're an okay cook and a terrible baker."
He took the last bite of what was left in the plastic box before moving to put it into the dishwasher. "You can't be serious right now…"
Moments like these were Sarah's favourite. Watching her dad get all rilled up just never failed to make her chuckle. Joel enjoyed it just as much. The happiness radiating off her, with a beautiful and bright smile decorating her face, was a sight he never wanted to lose. "Uncle Tommy's a better baker than you," she quickly added before sliding past him to find the fitting cookbook on the shelf in the living room.
Joel's head shot into her direction, a finger pointing at her before she disappeared, "You take that back!" Her high-pitched giggles filled his ears with love and joy.
-
Sarah's feet were dangling off the counter while she was snacking on some of the sprinkles she wanted to put on the cake, along with taste-testing the pink sugar writing. Her father was preparing the frosting, every now and then checking on the cake in the oven, making sure it wouldn't burn because that was the last thing he needed.
They were sharing a few moments of comfortable silence in the room, whereas the girl's mind was filled with questions, daring to slip out any second as she didn't want to hold them back for much longer.
"So, Y/N's coming over tomorrow?"
Joel nodded with a whisk in the bowl, covered in blue-greenish frosting Sarah had coloured, "Yeah, I'm picking her up from work, and I'd bring her here," he looked up, "If that's okay with you."
"Of course," his daughter chuckled, putting the sprinkles down, freeing her hands so she could place them on the counter. She puckered her lips, thinking carefully about her next question. As much as she thought of a way to introduce the subject, she couldn't think of one, so she just jumped into the cold water.
"Do you wanna marry Y/N?" The words made Joel stop in his tracks, his eyes shot up to meet hers.
He sent her a questioning glance, "W-Where's that coming from?"
She shrugged, "I was just thinking. You know… you've been together for a year… and you seem happy-"
"We are," he assured her.
"And don’t adults think about getting married? When they’re happy."
He stood up straighter to lean onto the counter, crossing his arms, leaving the work on the frosting on the side for a bit. "Aren't you a little too young to be thinking about marriage?"
"For me? Yeah," she scoffed, "Because boys? Disgusting," getting a proud smirk for father as a response, "But I mean for you two… I don't know… I was just wondering."
Joel sighed, getting back to work, "Well… I mean, you ain't wrong, sweetheart. But there's a lot of things you need to do before you get married or even think about proposing."
"Like moving in?"
"Sure," he nodded, "Some couples move in before they get married. It's not the traditional way, but as we know, traditional is boring." She copied his head movements with a grin plastered on her face.
"Then why not ask her?" Sarah tilted her head and raised her eyebrows as soon as she locked eyes with the oldest Miller again.
"What do you mean?"
"Ask her to move in."
Joel chuckled in surprise, the spit in his throat almost making him joke, "You sure have some interesting suggestions today, kiddo. You alright? Do I have to be worried?" His facial expression made her laugh out loud as she nudged him with her foot, making him squirm away jokingly.
"Nooo, dad! I'm just saying," she motioned around with her hands,
"You've been together for a while… and… she's already spending every weekend here and sometimes comes over during the week. She makes sure we eat," Joel nodded along with all of the things his daughter was listing, "She takes care of me and you, she already has some of her stuff in your drawer-"
"How do you know about that?" She grinned sheepishly at him, "I saw it when I went through your stuff…"
The father took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a second, "Alright… how about we don't do that anymore?" Eyeing the little girl sitting on the counter to his left, but she just shrugged,
"You said we shouldn't keep any secrets from each other."
He sighed. Fuck. She wasn't wrong. "You're right… I did say that." Goddamn, always smarter than any other adult in the room. That was his little Sarah.
"So, are you gonna ask her?"
After tasting the frosting and checking its consistency, he gave the girl the whisk, just like he saw you doing it multiple times before. She accepted it with a bright smile.
Joel enjoyed having conversations like these. Obviously, he understood that she was still a kid, and he would never deny her of her innocent mind and easy-going-with-the-wind mindset, but he also appreciated the slightly more adult talks they could share. That's why he was more than happy to explain it to her.
"It's not as easy as you think it is, kiddo. Y/N still has an apartment. One that she shares. So, we’d have to talk about that first. And there's a lot of document stuff we'd have to get-"
"I asked her," she caught his attention when he came back up to stand up straight from looking at the cake through the oven window.
"What?"
"I asked her if she would like to move in with us. Not like actually, but just, you know, the idea of it."
Now Joel became interested. Of course, the two of you had had the conversation about a shared home before, but every couple had that at some point in their relationship. Hearing what you'd think about the idea now would have maybe changed. Now it was more relevant than ever, apparently.
"And," he looked down at his fingers, "What did she say?"
Sarah smirked, "She said the same thing as you just did. So really a match made in heaven," and rolled her eyes jokingly, "But she also said that she'd really like the idea… if I was okay with it."
"And? Are you- I-I mean, would you?"
"Of course! Are you kidding me?! I love her so much! Probably even more than you-"
"I doubt that."
"I don't," she stated straightforwardly, "And you're happy when you're with her, and you make her happy. What more you could want? AND thanks to her, the weekends aren't so boring anymore."
"What was wrong with the weekends before?" He was slightly taken aback by her comment, unsure if it was meant ironically or not. But then again, he was probably overthinking a lot at that moment.
Sarah smiled, "Don't get me wrong, dad. I loved the weekends with you and uncle Tommy, but having another woman in the house is just…" She shrugged, unsure of how to explain just how comfortable you made her feel. Joel and her were open about a lot of things, but Joel was… well, he was your typical single Texanian-dad, that didn't know what to do in certain female-focused situations - let's just put it like that.
Having conversations from woman to woman was something the father appreciated very much when it came to what you brought along when getting to know his kid. And the girl was happier than ever, being finally able to talk to an older person about certain struggles she might encounter that were still slightly too embarrassing to discuss with her dad.
"It's different, I know. I understand," he smiled at her.
"It's good different though," she nodded, "I really like her."
"And you'd be okay with her living here?" He finally asked. Sarah was the reason for his still-intact heartbeat. The only thing having kept him alive so far. Now you had also joined to share that position, but he was still his blood, and you'd never even try to get in between that.
"More than okay," she exclaimed, "I'd be SO happy to have her here constantly. I'd finally have someone against you."
Joel squinted his eyes at her, "Because Tommy isn't enough already?" Receiving a smug smile in return.
He shook his head with a chuckle when the timer went off, indicating that the cake was finally done. Sarah hopped off the counter to stand back on her two feet when her father leaned down to get the cake out of the oven and placed it on the stove.
"You know," he threw the dishtowel he used to not burn his hand to the side before turning to face the girl, "You might be a bit too smart for a kid your age."
The youngest Miller crossed her arms proudly, holding her chin up high, "Thanks, I got it from my uncle." That just made Joel look at her in surprise, almost making her laugh out loud.
He put on his low dad voice, "You got that from your father, thank you very much."
She dropped her hands, "Whatever," and moved a bit closer to stand right next to him, "So will you ask her tomorrow?"
"Yes," he promised her, "I will ask her tomorrow." To which she started bouncing up and down, her body full of excitement, making Joel chuckle and pull her in for a side hug and gift her a kiss on the top of her head.
She clapped her hands, "Now, let's start decorating."
-
You were running -scratch that - Sprinting through the hospital corridors, desperately trying to find the info point a nurse had told you to go to.
You had never crossed town at the speed you just did. Once the message from the other side of the call registered in your brain, you dropped everything at work, ignored the calls from your boss, just shouted a quick, "Family emergency," and raced to catch the next possible bus.
With a big breath shooting out of your lungs, you came to a halt once you came to sight with the hotspot you were looking for. You braced yourself up with your palm, trying to catch your breath before you spoke up, "Hi, sorry, I'm looking for Joel Miller. He's supposed to be in a check-up room."
The nurse looked up at you, surprised by the sound of urgency in your voice. She was quick to type the name into her system, but it felt like hours for you. Your legs were nervously shaking, barely able to hold you up anymore.
She opened her mouth, making you stare at her, eyes widened, "Room 293, down the hall on the right." You were just about to thank her and continue your race but she continued, "He's just got done with the medical exam, but I'd ask you to please wait outside until a doctor comes and approves of him accepting visitors."
Fuck that. You muttered a quick thanks before your legs took you where she explained the room would be.
If they really thought you'd wait for a fucking doctor to allow you to see your boyfriend you expected to be in the worst possible condition, they were wrong. Very wrong.
Hectically, your eyes scanned each number plate on the side of the doors as you tried to find the right one.
290… 291… 292… 293! A sigh of relief washed over you. You got closer to the door, glancing to the left and right, just to make sure there was no one that could see you walk in before you knocked three times. A quiet, "Yeah?" rang through your ears and you didn't wait for another second to open the door.
Your eyes immediately fell to the man sitting on the examining bed. He was alive. At least he looked like it.
"Y/N?"
Out of breath, you tried to speak, "Joel… w-what the fuck?!" He couldn't even open his mouth. "Are you out of your goddamn mind? What the- what the hell happened to you?!" You got closer to him, your fingers coming up to gently touch his chin, turning his head to look at the small scraps next to his eyes. You noticed the bandage on his forehead, guessing he must've gotten stitches there, only making you sigh again.
Joel got a hold of your hands, holding them close to his chest as he tried to calm you down, "Sweetheart… I'm okay," he brushed some wild hairs that were covering your face, to the side, "I'm alright."
"No," you shook your head, already feeling your throat close up, "Look at you."
"This is nothing, I promise."
While his right hand held onto yours tightly, the palm of his left one ran up and down your lower arm. You shrugged out of his grasp to hide your face behind your hands as soon as you could feel the first tears rolling down your cheeks. Your fingers pressed into your eyes.
"You scared the shit of out me," your voice was not much more than a whisper, but the room was quiet, so Joel was able to hear you clearly. He pushed himself off the bed, standing up in front of you to engulf you in a warm hug when he noticed your brittle voice and your whole body shaking.
His low voice tried to calm down your soft cries as he pressed your head into his chest, ignoring the slight pain in his ribs, remembering the big bruise that was forming there. "I'm sorry, darlin'," he whispered, "I'm sorry. But I'm okay. I promise." He moved his hands from brushing over your back to cupping your cheeks, his thumbs caressing your skin, wiping away the wet stains your tears left. "I'm alive," he grinned at you, but you just shook your head.
"You're a fucking idiot, Miller," pushing a finger into his chest, getting a subtle groan out of him, making you flinch back immediately, "What?" Your eyes hastily ran over his body, "You're hurt there too."
You tried to push his shirt up, but he stopped you, placing his hands on top of yours, "No no, don't worry. Just hurts a little."
You couldn't help but to sigh again. That man was going to be the death of you. With a few steps back, you distanced yourself from him, sitting down in one of the chairs by the desk across from the bed. Carefully, Joel sat back on top of the bed. Your eyes scanned his form as you noticed the hiss he was trying to hold back, his lips pressed together tightly.
You shook your head and closed your eyes, lowering your head.
"Did Tommy call you?"
You scoffed, "Obviously."
"Did you call Sarah?" To which you motioned a 'no' to him.
"You don't need two women in your life to have a heart attack," you explained, "And I didn't know what to tell her. Tommy just said there was an accident on the construction site, and you're in the hospital. I didn't even let him finish. I sprinted out of the office." Your story made him chuckle, but he noticed your still anxious and tense body.
"He brought me here just to make sure everything was alright. I wasn't hurt badly. No one was."
You looked up to meet his eye, "Joel, you got stitches!"
He shrugged, "Not the first time, not the last time."
"Why would you say that?!" You stared at him unamused, your mouth open. Taking a deep breath in, your hand brushed through your hair while you let your eyes travel around the room. You hated hospitals. You had yet to have a positive experience in one of these buildings. The silence that overcame the room was choking. But you weren't in the mood to say anything else, nor did you know what to even say, and Joel could read you like the back of his hand. He knew he scared you. He hated it, so he was the first to break the stillness.
"Happy Anniversary."
You raised your head, finding him grinning at you shyly, making you shake your head, "Don't. This isn't funny." He nodded, understanding what was going on in your head. Another moment of silence filled the room.
"I'm sorry. I know this isn't the way you expected to spend our anniver-"
"I couldn't care less about the anniversary, Joel!" You exclaimed in frustration, "I- I thought you were-," you stopped before you could get choked up again, not even wanting to dare to say out loud what was going on in your head when you answered Tommy's phone call. "God knows what could've happened to you!"
"Come 'ere," he nodded you over, but you shook your head,
"Joel-" you were stopped by the motion of his hand for you to come closer. The man was already hurt, you didn't have to add to that. With a sigh, you stood up, leaving your bag on the chair next to you, before walking up to him again. The oldest Miller leaned forward to grasp your hand and pulled you closer, even getting a soft smile out of you.
His hand rested on your hips as you stood between his legs while you intertwined your fingers behind his neck.
"I'm sorry for scaring you, darlin'. I promise I'll be more careful."
"You better," your finger slid through his hair as you noticed the look in his eyes while he was staring at you. His right hand found its way to the back of your neck, pulling you down to finally do what he had been wanting to do all day. His lips moved against yours as you could feel him smirking before he pulled back slightly.
"I'll make it up to you tonight." You looked into his eyes in confusion, but only for a second before you moved your head back with a gasp.
"Joel!" You smacked his shoulders gently, "You're sitting on fucking a hospital bed, how could you think about sex right now?" He just continued grinning, his hands moving all over your body, keeping his eyes on yours, "How could I not with you in front of me."
A chuckle escaped from your lips followed by a shake of your head, "You're unbelievable." You got pulled closer again, his lips smashing against yours.
"Unbelievably in love with you." Earning himself a giggle and a quick peck from you.
Your fingers softly grazed the skin of his cheek, careful not to touch any of his injuries as you smiled, "Happy Anniversary, Joel." He couldn't help but to copy your facial expression, keeping you as close to him as he possibly could.
-
You drove the two of you home after the oldest Miller had gotten released from the hospital, and Tommy had already made his way back to his place. Joel was definitely moving slightly more carefully, but he assured you he was a-okay - you didn't fully believe it, but it wasn't worth a discussion.
After parking the car in the garage, you made your way into the house through the backdoor. Joel opened it for you to walk in first, just like he always did. You gave him a quick, "thank you," and stepped in before you stopped in your tracks, a high-pitched voice surprising you with a loud,
"HAPPY ANNIVERSARY!"
"Oh, Jesus!" Your hand flew up to your chest, your breathing quickening as you took in the scene in front of you. Sarah was beaming at you with her bright smile, a pink poster with big letters staring directly at you.
You started laughing, "God, you scared me, kid."
Joel stopped behind you, laughing at the sight. She ignored your exclaim, running up to wrap her arms around your torso, making you do the same around her shoulders. You pulled her in, placing a kiss on the top of her head. "You really are just the cutest," pulling back to look at her, petting her cheek, "Thank you, sweetie."
She gave you another quick grin before moving on to her father, doing the same to congratulate him, when she noticed the cuts on his face.
"What happened to you?"
Joel shrugged, a hand brushing over her hair, "Just a little accident at work. Nothing to worry about."
You moved further into the house, placing your bag on one of the dining chairs. Your eyes took in the room, holding your gaze once again on the poster Sarah had clearly self-made. She had placed it on top of the table before she had rushed over to the two of you, so you were able to run your fingers over the little stones and glitter patches she had glued on. You remembered the sign you had gotten from her only a month ago.
"You outdid yourself this time, Sarah," you turned to her when you noticed she had come to stand next to you, "It's so cute."
"Thanks," she radiated her happiness on you. "And look!" She skipped into the kitchen, making your gaze follow her when she pointed to the counter when you saw what got her so excited.
You started giggling. On the countertop sat a turquoise-coloured cake, with white frosting details on the side on pink hearts decorating the top of it.
"Oh my god!" you exclaimed, "Awww, did you do that yourself?"
She shrugged with a smile, "Dad helped me." To which Joel got closer to you two, his eyebrows scrunched in confusion,
"I thought you helped me." His arm snaked around your waist.
"Well," she answered him, "You thought wrong," sending him a sheepish grin that made you chuckle.
You opened your arms to get her into another hug, tightening your arms around her just a little tighter than before, "Well, I appreciate it a lot. Thank you, sweetie. I love it." Your eyes may have gotten a little glassy, but you were able to hold it back, not wanting to surprise them with a gush of happiness.
Joel next to you cleared his throat, gaining all the attention of the room. You released Sarah from your grasped and wrapped your arms around your partner's waist. "And thank you to you too, of course," smiling up at him as he looked down. You puckered your lips, making him smirk and lower his head to meet your mouth, giving you a quick peck.
Sarah interrupted your small moment of love when she called out, "Okay, let's eat!"
All three of you followed her orders and sat down around the dining table after grabbing plates, forks, and a knife to cut the cake. While your eyes were on Joel, who was giving each one of you a good slice, you also noticed the little girl next in the middle of the two of you, happily clapping drumming her hands on the surface, that smile of hers never leaving her face.
It was in moments like these when you truly thought to yourself what you could have possibly done in your past life to deserve people like them in your life. A boyfriend that would carry you to the ends of the world, in whose arms you felt safer than anywhere else, along with a wonderful daughter that looked at you as if you were the reason for the stars lighting up the sky.
You enjoyed the sweet dinner, easily falling into a comfortable conversation like you usually would. Sarah told you about her good day at school, bragging about the grade she had gotten on her chemistry exam, earning her a round of applause from you and a kiss on her cheek from her father. Joel and you talked about your workdays, leaving out the time you had spent in the hospital. He was fine, that's all you cared about.
After the meal, you brought all the dirty dishes into the kitchen, loading up the dishwasher, Joel placed the cake back into the fridge, and Sarah was put in charge of choosing a movie to let the evening come to an end.
Her choice fell on Jurassic Park, knowing how much the oldest in the house loved the movie, and after getting a nod of approval from you, she put it into the DVD player, telling you to hurry up and join her on the couch.
Joel and you sat down on either side of her before the girl made herself comfortable and laid her head on your lap while resting her legs on her father's. Automatically, your hands found their way to her head, brushing through her unruly hair you always complimented.
This position allowed Joel to come just a little bit closer, lifting his daughter's legs to slide over to you, pulling your head to lean on his shoulder and copying your actions to start patting your head as well. Not even forty minutes later, the soft snores and even breaths from the little girl accompanied the sounds coming from the TV. You looked down with a chuckle.
"What?" Joel wondered, "Did she fall asleep?"
"Yeah," you smiled, eyeing him suspiciously once he stood up with a groan,
"Finally." He crouched down slightly, moving one arm underneath Sarah's knees, while his other one steadied her neck. He straightened his back and pointed a finger at you, "You stay here. I still have something to make up to you."
Getting a giggle out of you, "Joel!"
"I mean it!" He shout-whispered at you before disappearing upstairs.
You brought your knees up, hugging them to your body when you remembered the little gift that was still hidden in your bag. With a soft huff, you pushed yourself off the sofa and walked over to the dining room the snatch your bag off the chair.
"Darlin', where- oh, there you are," Joel found you with your back turned towards him, rummaging through your back when he crept up on you and placed his hands on your hips once he got close enough. His lips immediately latched onto your neck, peppering it with kisses, making you giggle.
"Stooop," you laughed, leaning back into his chest.
"What are you doing?" He wondered as you turned around, your hands hidden behind your back.
You grinned up at him, "I've got something for you."
"You do?" His eyebrows shot up, "Why? Having you here is already enough," he didn't even wait for a response from you, just saw you rolling your eyes, making him chuckle as he pulled you in for a quick kiss.
You were first to retrieve back, receiving a low whine from him in return, to which you shook your head with a smile. "May I give you your gift now?"
Joel stood up straighter and put his hands out, palm up, in front of you, closing his eyes along the process. Without wasting another second, you placed the little box into his grasp. He opened his eyes again, looking suspiciously at the packaging, shaking it slightly,
"What is it?"
"You really expect me to tell you instead of just opening it?"
He smiled, "Alright, alright."
You could hardly contain your excitement as he ripped the paper off the box, throwing it onto the table behind you. As soon as Joel opened it, his eyes shot up to find you grinning right at him.
"Darlin'…"
"Sarah told me you've been looking for one," you explained, "But she also said that you never take the time to go downtown and look for one. So, I thought, I'd just save you the stress."
His fingers ran across the rounded edges of the watch in the box. It looked expensive, that's for sure.
"You didn't have to do that, sweetheart," he spoke quietly, still in awe of the present worth so much more than just money in his hands.
You shrugged, "I know, but I wanted to."
Joel took it out of its packaging, putting that to the side as well before wrapping it around his wrist. Your fingers came to help, closing the little buckle so it fit him perfectly.
He couldn't take his eyes off the watch, "Thank you, darlin'," but you were a much better sight to him, "I love it," so he pulled you in again, "I ain't never taking that off ever again."
Your hands found their usual place on the back of his neck again as you kissed him back, whispering against his lips, "I'm glad you like it. Happy anniversary."
"Happy anniversary," he mumbled back, giving you a peck before sliding out of your embrace, "Well, I guess it's time for me to give you your present now?"
"Joel," you whined, "I told you, I don't-"
His hand stopped you before he exited the kitchen and came back only seconds later, his hand in a tight fist. You waited patiently for him to open his mouth again, even though you were anything but that.
He stopped in front of you, raised his arm and let what he was holding drop down while holding onto what looked like a key ring.
"What is it?" You reached out to grab it, laying it flat against your palm to analyse it. A key. Attached to a pendant representing three figures, a figure that was supposed to be a man, next to a woman, who then again stood next to the same figure just in small.
"The key to my heart?" He jokingly answered, making it sound more like a question, making you look up.
"Ha ha," you rolled your eyes. Always the romantic…
Joel took a deep breath before clearing his throat, "I mean… I guess it kinda is, but ehm… it's a housekey." You had to tear your eyes away from the object in your hands once again once your brain registered what he had just said.
"What?"
"So," he started explaining, his hands immediately on your hips again, "I was racking my brain over what I could give you today. But I just couldn't think of anything. Because honestly… I didn't think there was anything in this world that I could buy you, that would show you just how much you mean to me."
"Don't make me cry," you quickly intervened, making him chuckle as he placed a soft kiss on your cheek,
"I'll try," and put a strand of hair behind your ear. "Yesterday Sarah, the way too smart for her own good kid, that she is," the description made you smile, "got the idea of baking something for you because she said you value that a lot more than bought stuff." He had to take another deep breath before continuing, "And then while we were preparing the cake… you know her, she started asking all those questions until we landed on the whole moving-in thing." Throughout the whole speech, you listened attentively to your partner, keeping your eyes on him the entire time even while his drifted around the room. "Since you already spent the weekends with us and are here every now and then during the week, she asked me why you're not living with us yet."
"And your answer was?" A smug smile made its way onto your lips.
"Do you want the truth or what I told her?"
"The truth, please."
Joel's eyes followed his hands as they ran up and down your sides, "That her dad hasn't had the balls yet to ask his girlfriend." You shyly looked down back to your hands. At the little charm.
He noticed where your attention was and pointed at it, "Sarah picked that up today after school." Of course, she did… You could feel the tears coming back up. God, that girl was just too pure for the world…
"So?" His voice made you meet his eyes again, "What do you say? Can you handle three Millers under one roof?"
You pretended to think, playing with the lips he so desperately wanted to feel on his again, "It won't be easy."
He grinned, "That's not a no." You dropped the key onto the table behind you before your hands went back around his neck, pulling him in close enough for your lips to almost touch. You could feel his grip on your hips tighten.
The corners of your lips curled up, "That's because it's a yes," pecking his lips, "I'll take good care of you."
His left hand travelled to your lower back, "And we'll take good care of you too," he repeated giving you multiple little kisses, making you laugh. Oh, God how much he loved that sound. And now he would be able to hear that every single day. "Now, how about I stick true to that promise I made earlier?"
You nodded, breathing against each other's mouths, "Yeah, please do." And he didn't need to be told twice.
With one swift move, you were put onto the table, before he situated himself between your legs. His hands cupped your cheeks, pulling you as close as possible. You moved yourself slightly forward, letting a moan escape from your lips when you felt his tongue glide across your bottom lip.
Opening your mouth wider, gave him the opportunity to slip in, earning a deep groan from the man in front of you. Your fingers started playing with the hem of his shirt, signalling for him to pull back and pull it up as you helped him along with it, dragging him onto you the moment it came off - eyes immediately on the dark bruise forming on his ribs.
"Joel…," you gasped, reaching out to touch the dark spot, but he got a hold of your hand, bringing your knuckles up to his lips,
"It's nothin', darlin', don't worry about it." You could worry about the truth in his statement tomorrow, for now, you wanted to get him back on you, so you smashed your lips back onto his.
He chuckled, "Someone's eager," he started trailing kisses down your neck.
"Well, someone made me think about this for hours," you grabbed his face to bring him back up to you. You could never get enough of the touch of his lips. You would drown in it if you could. You wouldn't even care if you couldn't breathe anymore, it would be a happy death.
"And that someone is gonna make sure you won't be able to think at all for the next few hours," he whispered as his right hand slipped underneath your shirt, his thumb tracing over your bra.
You couldn't help the shake in your voice, "Hours? I think you're getting a little ahead of yourself, Miller." Knowing damn well that he wasn't. You had the privilege of getting the house to yourself every now and then or having had some alone time in your apartment. If he wanted to, he could go on for hours and hours. But you'd be lying if you said you didn't enjoy rilling him up just a little bit.
He scoffed, pulling your shirt over your head easily, "Sure, keep saying that. Keep talking while can." He knew what he was doing to you with those words.
His hands roamed your almost naked torso, cupping your still-covered breasts into his big hands, making you moan into his mouth.
You could feel that gentle touch of his on your body before it stopped on your ass, pulling you closer to him as he mumbled, "Come 'ere. Let's go upstairs."
You were held up tightly against him as he carried you up into the first floor, taking a sharp left to get you both into his, well now your, bedroom. Your bedroom. From now on, this was the room you'd be sharing with your partner. God, what a good time to be alive…
Once you had reached the bed, Joel slouched over, making sure to place you onto the mattress gently.
There were two sides to Joel Miller when it came to sex. You were very familiar with both. There was the soft side you adored so much. When he took his time with you, kissing every inch of your body, working you up just right, adoring your body and covering it with pure passion. His thrust would be slow and deep, gentle, yet just filled with the same amount of lust as his other side. The alter ego, as you'd like to think of it was fast-paced, hard, yet never too short, sex. Still very passionate, but loud and messy. Bruises weren't a rarety after a night like that. And while that was what you understood when thinking of sex, you adored love-making just a little bit more when the time was right. Just like at that moment.
His kisses moved from your neck, down between your breasts, along the middle of your torso, holding onto it tightly, until he reached the rim of your jeans. His fingers got to work on your button, opening it along with the zipper, before getting up slightly to free your legs from them, sliding them down as he started kneeling on the floor. Down at your ankles, he pulled them off completely, getting rid of your socks as well before starting his journey of kisses back up again.
You squirmed more and more the higher he came up, making him have to move his hands to your hips to hold you down and pull you closer to the end of the bed to reach your inner thighs.
"Ah, fuck baby…," he moaned in between kisses, "So. Fucking. Beautiful."
You were brushing some hair out of your face, heavy breaths leaving your lips. You didn't even dare to look down, knowing you'd probably only get closer to coming right then and there with the sight. "Joel, please…" you whined.
"I know, I know, darlin'," he continued admiring your thighs with his lips before hooking his fingers into the side pieces of your underwear. He noticed which ones you were wearing.
"You know," he gave them a kiss too, right onto your pelvic bone,
"These are my favourite."
You chuckled, "Of course, I know. Why do you think I put them on?"
"Well, but then it wouldn't be right of me to just take them off right away, now would it?" He smirked letting go of the fabric and prepping your legs up on the mattress. His lips moved down to the centre of your pussy, placing a gentle kiss right where you wanted him, sending a shiver through your entire body along with a shaky breath tumbling from your lips.
Once again, his finger hooked underneath the fabric of your underwear, only this time, pulling the centre piece to the side, giving him a clear view of your sex, clearly glistening even in the dim light coming from the moon outside.
He didn't let another moment pass before he covered your slit in little kisses, his hands having a tighter grip on you once you started moving again. You were still enjoying the soft feather touches of his lips on yours when you suddenly felt the tip of his tongue running over your clit, getting a low moan out of you. You had to remember there was still a little girl in the room across from you - too much noise would eventually wake her up and you were not ready to have that kind of confrontation with her yet.
"Ah… Joel…" you breathed out, your fingers tangling around his hair, pulling slightly once you felt his tongue movements quicken and deepen.
He slipped around your clit, running it down to your hole before drawing circles around there as well. As soon as he was up again, gently sucking on your clit, you could already feel the arousal dripping out of you, making you shudder and hold onto his hair just a little tighter. He switched between focusing on your bundle of nerves and gathering every drip coming out of you with his tongue.
"Fuck," you couldn't help the whine erupting from you. You had to be quiet, not silent. Especially not when you knew what your sounds could do to Joel. You were confirmed of your thoughts when you heard the buckle of the belt on his jeans opening, followed by his zipper. Joel had to free his hands from holding onto you to get his jeans off his legs, dragging his boxers along with them to free his erect dick. But his tongue never left your heat - he was a God of multitasking and had proved that many times before.
Once you felt his right hand being placed on top of your abdomen and heard a deep groan coming from him, you knew he had started grasping his cock in his free hand. The thought of your partner jerking off to eating you out and the little breaths coming from you only added to the sensation that had been building up between your legs.
"Joel," you whimpered, "Don't-fuck, don't stop," begging him to keep going. His answer was another strong suck on your clit, and a lick of his tongue as he slid into you. The hand that had been holding you down was moving lower, still keeping you from moving too much, while his thumb had found its way to your clit, making sure to stimulate it, while his tongue was working inside of you.
"Oh, God, yeah…" you breathed out, uncontrollably starting to move your hips as well to get closer to the edge. Your moans came out higher-pitched as you pressed your lips together tighter, trying to keep as quiet as possible, while your partner was doing the Lord's work on you.
"Fuck- Joel, I'm gonna cum," you whined out, "I-"
"You can do it, baby," he encouraged you, letting go of his erection, to replace his tongue with two of his fingers, and going back to kissing your clit passionately while his right hand interlaced with yours.
"Come for me," he breathed against you.
You nodded, moaning slightly louder as the grip on his hand tightened, your hips moving around more. The tension kept building up, encouraging you to keep going as he moved his fingers in and out of you, the wet sounds echoing through the room.
"Come on, darlin'." His whisper made your body shake.
And after the last small whiny, "yeah…" slipped from your lips, you fell apart beneath him, tightening around his fingers, humming uncontrollably, and trying to hold in the moans and groans you could've let out.
Joel didn't stop though. He never does. He only removed his fingers to start cleaning you up with his tongue, not letting you recover from the orgasm that had washed over you.
You tried catching your breath, releasing his hand from your tight grasp, as you moved both your hands back to his hair, begging him to come up and hover over you, "Joel," you whispered, chest still heaving heavily.
With a smile, he came back up to face you after finally taking your underwear off completely, his arms resting on either side of you, peppering your face with kisses before stopping at your mouth. You could taste the remains of yourself on his tongue as he pushed it past your lips to slide over yours.
"I love you," he spoke quietly against your mouth, moving down to your jaw, making you smile as you pulled him to look you straight in the eyes, "I love you too," kissing him with just as much passion as before.
His right arm moved underneath your arched back, towing you into him as he sat you up on your knees. His fingers quickly opened the back of your bra, sliding it down your arms, following its trail to mark it with kisses. Once were boobs were free in front of you, he leaned down, getting to work on them as he decorated them with his lips. You threw your head back in relief, giving him easier access, sighing his name out loud.
When he wanted to feel your mouth on his again, he positioned his hand on your tits, engulfing them in the warmth of his palms.
"You're always so good to me." Now it was your time to move your lips down his throat, getting a soft moan out of him, while his fingers came to play with your nipples.
"How could I not," he got a hold of your chin, moving it gently so you'd be facing him again, "You deserve it," going back to stealing your breath and devouring your lips.
Joel sat down properly on the bed, giving you the opportunity, to take a seat on his lap. You let your hand travel down your body, between your legs to smear some of your wetness onto your palm before you moved onto him, covering his fully erect cock. He held himself up with his hands on the mattress, tilting his head back, letting the pleasure wash over him as a groan fell from his lips.
You pumped your hand up and down four times before you were ready to lower your head, but a soft grip on the back of your hair stopped you, gently pulling you back up, "No no, darlin', come on," Joel patted his lap, "Sit down." He had always been more of a giver than a receiver. Not that the hated blowjobs, how could he with your mouth, but he enjoyed giving a lot more than receiving.
You listened to his demand and scootched up onto his lap, not letting go of his erection in your hand as you lined it up with your sex before slowly sinking down on it, your hands coming to rest on his shoulders as soon as he grabbed you by your hips.
A soft but long whine vibrated in your throat as he started to fill you up, stretching you with his size. Your fingers started digging into his shoulders, making him hiss with a chuckle. His strong arms kept you as close as possible to him, waiting for you to set the pace and start moving.
You let your forehead fall against his once he was fully inside, and you started rotating your hip right away. Moving them back and forth to create some friction as both of you shared a round of low moans, kissing to prevent them from getting too loud. He moved his hips along with yours after getting to know the speed you were working with, making you sigh out loud. "Oh… fuck…"
Joel's hand came up to brush some of the hairs that stuck to your forehead, away, giving your cheeks a few pecks.
"You know, you get more beautiful each day," directing them down to your throat and the side of your neck.
You chuckled, "You're one to talk, dilf hot-shot." Your comment made the two of you giggle in chorus as you remembered him of the nickname he had earned himself at the last parent-teacher conference, which you found out, thanks to his daughter, who wondered what it meant.
He rolled his eyes,
"Oh please," he jerked his hips up to tease you, almost making you screech if it wasn't for you hiding your face in his neck. "I'll always find you beautiful, sweetheart, no matter the age."
His hand on your hair pulled you back gently to look at him again,
"Likewise, handsome," you smiled at him, gifting him with a kiss before your hands on his chest pushed him down, while you kept yourself up on your knees. As Joel lowered his body, following your directions, you felt his erection tipping with him, nudging the rough spot inside of you, getting a shaky moan from you in return.
Once he was comfortable, you braced yourself with your arms on the sides of his head to hover above him, continuing your make-out session. You felt his hands going down your body, finding their new place on your ass as he held on to it, keeping you still, while started to move his upwards. Having to pull back from the kiss, you released a soft sigh before starting to move against him, meeting his thrusts in the middle.
His grip tightened with his lips on you again, "Fuck, baby," he hissed, slightly picking up the pace. "Ya' gonna' be fuckin' death of me." You loved whenever his deep Texanian accent made an appearance during sex. It just told you, you were doing everything right.
With one last kiss, you pushed yourself up to fully sit on his cock again. He pushed his knees up slightly to give you a makeshift backrest once you started moving your hips faster. His fingers quickly interlaced with yours, giving you something to hold onto as you yanked them closer to you.
"Joel…" you dragged out his name in a hush, getting a groan from him in response.
"You're doing so good sweetheart, keep doing," he encouraged you.
You sat up straight, "Put your legs down," giving him the directions you needed for your next position, sounding almost out of breath. He did as you asked, giving you the room to lean back and hold onto his thighs, opening up your body as a sight to him.
"So good, baby," he moaned out loud as he put his hand to your pussy, after wetting his fingers with his spit, circling them around your clit, making you shake.
"Fuck," you cursed out, sighing along with it as you started moving your hips faster, now with the encouragement of Joel's touch on your sex.
His groans felt your ear, letting you know he wasn't far from his release, just as much as you. You kept moving, bouncing up and down on his erection that kept brushing your walls, letting you feel every vein on his cock.
"Joel, I'm so close," you moaned, which was all he needed to know before he freed his hands from yours, only to bring them back to your ass, lifting you up to change his position. You kept yourself up, taking a few deep breaths, trying to steady your breathing with the small rest you got.
He sat up on his knees, wrapping his arms around you again to lower you back onto the mattress, this time with your head against the comfort of your pillows.
Joel stayed in this position, making sure to keep you as still as possible in the tight hug, as he started snapping his hips against yours. His cock slid easily in and out of you, the wet sounds ringing through your ears as you felt his balls slapping against your ass.
You lifted your arms, your fingers desperately trying to find the headboard to hold onto as you tried to contain yourself from the noise you wanted to make. All you could let out were high-pitched whimpers and gentle moans when you could've easily screamed into his ears with the pleasure that was rushing through your body.
You could feel Joel's fingers digging into your skin, his groans only getting deeper as he attacked your neck, hoping to keep it as quietly as possible. The second orgasm was approaching you rapidly and you wanted to open your mouth to let him know, but all you could make out was,
"I- Jo-" as he kept on hitting just the sight spots inside of you.
He nodded, "I know, baby," breathing heavily against you, "Ya gonna come with me?" Making you nod hastily, "Yeah?" To which you nodded again, a whimper tumbling from your lips.
Your feet started digging into the mattress as the pressure leading you to your release was getting intensely more.
"I-I'm gonna c- fuck, I'm gonna cum," you managed to get out. Joel kept his lips on your neck, gifting you more encouraging words.
"Yeah baby, come with me," was the last thing you needed to hear before he smashed his lips onto yours just at the right time before you could scream your orgasm out into the world. Your fingers tightened around the wood of the headboard as you felt him shoot his cum into you. His groan against your mouth sent vibrations through your body, which was already shaking from the aftermath of your release.
As soon as he pulled back, the two of you shared your heavy breaths, sweaty foreheads pressed against each other, a smile of pleasure decorating both of your faces.
Joel started peppering your face with kisses again, making you chuckle as you still tried to catch your breath, just as well as he still was doing.
"I love you, darlin'," he whispered against your skin as you brought your fingers back to his hair, brushing them to make him look at you.
After placing a loving kiss against his lips, you breathed out, "I love you, babe. I love you a lot."
"A lot?" He chuckled, raising his eyebrows.
You nodded with a smile, "A lot."
With a deep kiss that let you know just what you needed to know, he was back gazing into your eyes, freeing your face from all the small hairs that had made their way to your sweaty forehead, "Well then, I love you a lot too." But you couldn't let him go yet, yanking him towards you for one last, passion-filled kiss, moaning into his mouth as he smirked.
Joel pushed himself back up, slowly sliding his erection out of you, making you shiver, and him chuckle before he walked over to the basket of clean clothes he had yet to put away.
He searched for the clean cloth he remembered throwing in, and once he had found it, he brought it back to bed with him. He was back to hovering above you, continuing your innocent make-out session while he started cleaning up the mix of his and your cum that was dripping out of you. With every swipe, you buckled your hips up uncontrollably, just enjoying the pleasure washing over your body.
After he got done with that, he threw the cloth into the basket for dirty clothing before starting to look for his boxers, standing up on his two feet to pull them up his legs. You crawled over to the edge of the bed, bending down to gather your underwear before looking up at Joel who was standing closer to the clean clothing than you were.
"Can you give me a shirt, please?" Already knowing that you were asking for one of his, he snatched a dark green one and passed it over to you, who had gotten up from the bed, legs still shaky, but you could make it work.
Once you had thrown that over your body, you felt the familiar strong arms wrap around you again, and Joel lowered his head to get another few kisses from you.
"Happy anniversary," he whispered once again.
You smiled against his lips, "Oh, it is a very happy anniversary, babe." When there didn't seem to be a stop to the make-out session he had initiated, you tried to push him away, but he wasn't budging.
"J-Joel," you giggled, "I need to go."
"Where?" He immediately pulled his head back, gazing at you in surprise, but you quickly calmed him with a soft hand on his chest,
"Downstairs to get our clothes. I don't need to traumatise your daughter on the first day of moving in," you freed yourself from his hug, "And then I have to take a shower."
As you passed him, he couldn't let go of the opportunity to get a hold of your ass, squeezing it, getting a screech from you in response. You were quick to turn around and hit him on the upper arm, making him flinch away with a smirk.
"Joel!" You hissed at him, motioning for him to be quiet.
He raised his arms, "You're the one being so loud," earning himself a death glare from you, but it only made his grin wider.
His eyes followed your form as you left the room before he let himself drop down onto the bed. He ran a hand over his face, not even caring to hide the smile that just didn't seem to go away.
You were officially moved in. From today on, he'd wake up next to you every single day. Sarah and he would have you by their side every afternoon after work. He'd be able to pick you up and bring you both home. Together. He knew now the pressure of the next step in your relationship would be approaching quicker, but he decided to put that thought aside and focus on the present - and on your footsteps that were coming back up.
Joel laughed to himself as he got back up, on his way to join you in the bathroom for round two - after all, he had promised you hours.
joel taglist: @corvusmorte
pedro taglist: @leslieelainetrask
#joel miller x reader#joel miller#imagines#imagine#smut#fluff#the last of us#tlou#pedro pascal#x fem!reader#hbo!joel miller x reader#pre-outbreak!joel#x reader#pedro pascal x reader#x you#one shot#domestic#soft smut
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Serenity After the Turmoil
TW: domestic violence, nightmares. (not graphic)
Sherlock fandom
The nightmares have been constant companions from early childhood. Back then it had mostly to do with monsters under the bed, which later was traded for more violent ones. It didn’t help matters that my parents quarrelled loudly either. I still remember the first time I heard my father slap my mother. It made me nauseous, scared and angry. I wanted to get out of bed to make him stop, but I was only ten and so much smaller than him.
At uni, I got a respite from the nightmares. The most violent my dreams got, was reliving rugby matches.
In Afghanistan, I didn’t dream at all. At least I never remembered anything when I woke. Too tired and exhausted from stitching up patients and keeping my body fit with a strict exercise regime.
It was when I got back to London that my real nightmares began. They were mostly related to the war, but particularly nasty episodes from my parents’ fighting interfered occasionally.
Waking up from these dreams, did nothing to ease my agony. I had thought that surrounding myself with bright coloured pictures and photos would be a good idea. To make my brain see sense. To realise where I was. To calm me. I was an idiot.
***
The first time I had a nightmare at Baker Street, I apparently cried out loud, because Sherlock was kneeling beside my bed when I opened my eyes.
“You’re safe, John. Home. At Baker Street,” he said quietly.
His voice instantly calmed me before my self-conscious made itself heard. I blushed, tried to assure him I was fine. That he didn’t have to check on me.
“Alright,” he said and squeezed my shoulder before he went downstairs.
Moments later he started to play his violin even if it was 2 am.
“Thank you,” I whispered as tears run down my cheeks.
***
The next time it happened, my sub-consciousness must’ve been at play, because I only whimpered slightly when I woke. No sound was heard from downstairs.
Normally, it took me forever to calm down, and I didn’t want to wake Sherlock by descending to the kitchen to make tea at this hour. I opened my eyes and looked around the room. It was held in muted colours, which I realised had a much more soothing effect than my brightly coloured bedsit.
I didn’t know if it was Mrs. Hudson who’d been in charge of choosing everything, but I thought it might be. My room was quite similar to the rest of the flat when it came to colours and furniture. The only splash of colour was the smiley face in the living room.
To my surprise I heard Sherlock start to play downstairs. Had he heard me, or was he unable to sleep himself? He had warned me that he played the violin at odd hours. I lay still for a while and listened to him play. They were all soothing melodies, nothing harsh like the things he used to play whenever Mycroft visited, or he was unable to solve a puzzle.
I debated with myself. Should I go down there to keep him company? To tell him how soothing it was to hear him play like this. How thankful I was for everything. How safe I felt, despite the toxic environment he created with some of his experiments, not to mention the body parts I found all over the place. Would he appreciate that, or just scoff at me and call me an idiot?
“Only one way to find out, Watson. Into battle,” I told myself and went downstairs.
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@flashfictionfridayofficial @totallysilvergirl @keirgreeneyes @calaisreno @raina-at
@helloliriels @safedistancefrombeingsmart @gregorovitch-adler @topsyturvy-turtely @peanitbear
@bs2sjh @meetinginsamarra @221beloved @jolieblack @phoenix27884
@ninasnakie @friday411 @a-victorian-girl
#flash fiction friday#sherlock fandom#sherlock#john watson#bbc sherlock#johnlock#sherlock fanfic#FFF256#muted colors
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PROPAGANDA
BUMBLE (WARRIOR CATS) (CW: Domestic Abuse)
1.) Back with another Warriors submission, I bet you’ll be getting a lot from other people too LMAO. Bumble is a kittypet (housecat) who befriends the male protagonist Gray Wing’s girlfriend, Turtle Tail, and lets her stay in her house. This gets Gray Wing all pissy because he’s controlling of Turtle Tail and shares most of the wild/clan cat’s proclivity for looking down upon kittypets. Turtle Tail gets pregnant by another kittypet, Tom, who tries to control her by hiding the fact that humans take away kittens after they’re born. Eventually Bumble comes clean about it so Turtle Tail returns to the forest. Some time later, Bumble is found in the forest seeking refuge because Tom has been physically abusing her, scratching her where the humans can’t see. So, she’s CANONICALLY ACKNOWLEDGED as a domestic abuse victim (unlike Squirrelflight who meets all the textbook signs but the narrative and authors deny it). How do you think our good guy protagonists, i.e. Gray Wing “The Wise” and Turtle Tail, respond to an abuse victim seeking refuge? They tell Bumble to go home, thinking to themselves that she’s fat and soft and therefore would be useless in their group. Bumble stands up for herself and asks to speak with the leaders of the group. One of them asks if Bumble could just get along with Tom better (bro???) and when Bumble says it’s not within her control, the leader suggests being nicer to the humans instead. Another rival leader butts in and verbally abuses Bumble again by ripping into how fat and lazy and useless she would be. Despite Turtle Tail having been friends with Bumble and Bumble had helped her through her own hard times, to Gray Wing’s approval Turtle Tail chooses not to intervene as Bumble is forcibly escorted back to her abuser. But that’s not all. Later Bumble is found in the forest maimed and dying, and it seems likely that Gray Wing’s brother Clear Sky, a male with a long history of violence, is the culprit. Rather than mourn the dying innocent cat, Gray Wing’s primary concern is how other cats might be mean to Clear Sky if they think he’s a murderer, and reassures himself that refusing to help Bumble in her time of need was still the right decision.
2.) I have no idea how she managed to be written so horrifically from an abuse victim and woman (/she-cat I guess) standpoint but here we are. Okay so my memory is a bit fuzzy but basically Bumble was a character in Dawn of the Clans and a close friend to Turtle Tail, a major character, as well as a character who lived close to Tom, an abusive dickhead of a cat. Bumble was largely depicted as just a really sweet cat. Turtle Tail was very briefly the mate of Turtle Tail, but once she got pregnant, he became super violent towards both her and our gal Bumble. Tom actively hid the fact that, once her kits were old enough, Turtle Tail’s kits would probably be taken from her, and made Bumble keep quiet about this too, but Bumble eventually told Turtle Tail the truth, Turtle Tail left and Tom became extremely violent towards Bumble because of this, and was extremely abusive towards her. Eventually, Bumble ran away from him to where Turtle Tail and co were and begged to stay, since the wilderness as a whole was genuinely more safe than being around Tom was. Naturally, this meant kitty xenophobia from cats who had only arrived in that area recently, because everybody was insistent than, since she was a kittypet/house cat, things wouldn’t work out, and even her friend Turtle Tail denied her on this, insisted she was too soft to live in the wild and only sent her towards a cat Bumble wanted to convince because she was absolutely certain she’d be denied. Also our good old protagonist Gray Wing got to spend this scene being all upset about this soft cat wanting to join them to escape an abuser and was all bitter about the fact that Turtle Tail lived with her for a short period of time, and he also got to have a sweet romantic moment with Turtle Tail after denying an abuse victim an escape from her abuser. Also as much as I like Tall Shadow usually she sucked ass in the following scene because she was essentially telling Bumble to go find a way to make peace with Tom as if she was not the one being abused (Bumble pointed out that Tom was the one who would need to make peace for it to happen, not her) and that she should just make life better by going back to being a housecat and being spoiled despite the fact that she was actively at risk with her owners because of Tom. Then she leaves after being threatened by several cats there and is called soft on the way out. The next time she appears she is literally dying, and her death is just a plot device to create a stupid little mystery which is solved in a very stupid way. Also her abuser does continue to be a shithead and for some reason is fully permitted to kidnap his own children but he also gets a heroic death and the only reason I will not rant more about him is because this is too long already. Long story short Bumble deserves the world and everybody who decided not to let her escape her abuser just because they thought she was soft sucks
3.) Is nice to the group of starving, feral wild cats that left the mountains so their friends and family could have more food to eat and befriends one of them to the point of opening her home to her after she leaves the group because the guy she likes is too dumb to notice she likes him and keeps falling for his brother’s love interests.
Unfortunately, because Bumble is a house cat who lives in a house with people and not a Wild and Free cat, this is a grave and horrible crime (luring a wild cat into the safety and comforts of domesticity) and is villainized for the rest of the arc, including for things wildly out of her control
I.E.
Her owners taking in an aggressive male cat that bullies and abuses the two female cats already living there
When Bumble’s friend leaves and goes back to the wild cats, Bumble leaves her home (as the abuse as has gotten worse) to see if she could either get help or have her friend return so the abuse isn’t as bad again)
Bumble eventually dies in the wild because the feral cats all hate her for ‘stealing’ their friend and tricking her into becoming a kittypet for awhile and refuse to help Bumble adjust to wild life or even teaching her how to hunt.
They are littl e to no hard feelings at her death beyond ‘good riddance’ but the aggressive tomcat that chased her out of her home is later regarded with good feelings and regret at such a 'good, heroic cat’ passing when he dies despite him literally never doing a good or kind thing in his life and actually causing trouble for the wild cats right before dying
IRENE ADLER (BBC SHERLOCK) (CW: Lesbophobia)
1.) Ooh, she’s a woman, so she got to be sexy seductive sultry sexy lady! And in love with the male protagonist even though she’s gay. She got so nerfed compared to her short story version! She doesn’t outwit Holmes like she does in the book, she gets saved by him and she’s gotta be in looooove.
2.) awesome woman who outsmarts Sherlock holmes in the books turned into a lesbian dominatrix that mysteriously falls in love with Sherlock and gets outsmarted then rescued by him
3.) I don’t mind the sex worker thing; it’s a reasonable cultural translation decision in my book. But the character’s defining trait in the original story is that she beats Sherlock Holmes, and the BBC Sherlock creators were plainly too in love with their genius to let that pass. And the way she loses? She lets her emotions get the better of her in the end while he’s too rational to show such a womanly human weakness. Barf.
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Hi,
I'm new to this. I'm genuinely curious how johnlock fandom happened. I watched sherlock and didn't notice any chemistry between them. I'm just trying to understand. And how do you feel about Ben and Martin not liking each other in real life? Thanks.
Hello anon!
The Johnlock fandom was born long before BBC Sherlock aired. I think there was a speculation about them in the late 1800s but, obviously, talking about homosexuals was out of the question at the time. But the ship took off in 2010, when it all started.
I have met several people in the fandom who told me they didn't notice anything romantic between the two at first viewing, but then they had to change their minds with rewatches.
Now, it must be said that the characters themselves constantly imply that the two of them behave like a couple.
1. Mrs Hudson
From the first moment, in A Study in Pink, she believes that Sherlock has brought his new 'boyfriend' home.
In The Empty Hearse, she can't believe that John is now engaged to a woman.
"So soon after Sherlock?"
"Hmm... well, yes."
"What's his name?"
"It's a woman."
"A wOmAn?!?" and then she laughs. She sounds rather incredulous, perhaps believing he is moking her.
"You really have moved on, haven't you?"
2. Mycroft
Nobody knows Sherlock better than Mycroft. In A Study in Pink, when he meets John for the first time, he says: "Might we expect a happy announcement by the end of the week?" and literally Sherlock and John met the DAY BEFORE! Why would Mycroft bother stalking a poor army doctor if he doesn't believe that Sherlock could be attracted to him? 🤷🏼♀️
In The Final Problem, Mycroft already knew that Sherlock would sacrifice him and save John. Sherlock loves John more than Mycroft, AND HE'S HIS OWN BROTHER!
3. Angelo [the restaurant owner in A Study in Pink (although I prefer the one in the Unaired Pilot, better known as the Gay Pilot)].
Angelo has known Sherlock for years, and why would he make Sherlock attractive to John? "Hey, you know this macho guy got me out of prison?" "OH! Wait! I'll get you a phallus candle, that'll be very romantic. 🥰😍😛"
4. Donovan
In The Great Game, when Sherlock finds the abandoned car, Donovan says to John: "I see you're still hanging around him. Opposites attract, I suppose."
This one may not be the best example, but it's worth including.
5. Irene Adler
My God that woman. She's in love with Sherlock, and that's fine. Who wouldn't fall in love with Sherlock or his brain? But she also knows that Sherlock only has his heart set on John. In A Scandal in Belgravia, when they go to her house, she immediately says to Sherlock: "And somebody loves you. If I had to punch that face, I'd avoid your nose and teeth too."
Then, when John goes to Battersea and meets her, she asks: "Are you jealous?"
"We're not a couple."
"Yes, you are."
Again, she met them for literally 3 minutes and immediately realised it!
6. Mary
Mary should hate Sherlock to death (and I'm still convinced that she never liked Sherlock).
What was that proverb again? Respect the owner's dog for your own sake. It means: like the dog to please the owner. Or something like that.
In this case, the owner is John and the dog is Sherlock. It's obvious that at a certain point Mary starts shipping them, almost as if she doesn't really care about John.
7. Magnussen
In His Last Vow, Magnussen meets Sherlock and John for a few minutes, and immediately tells them: "You two are sooo domesticated." Later in the episode, he tells Sherlock that John is "your damsell in distress."
I hope this was exhaustive from Johnlock's point of view! Maybe try looking at it from another point of view and rewatch the whole serie. At that point, if you're still not convinced, it's okay, anon, we don't bite!
Moving on to Benedict and Martin... we all know that Martin has a particular character and that he has trouble getting along with literally anyone, but I don't believe the newspapers. They are journalists, they HAVE to cause a SCANDAL!! Otherwise no one would read them. They take sentences from a completely different context and pass them off as true. Take for example when it was said that Benedict had called Martin 'pathetic.'
There is a video of this interview. The presenter asked Benedict to drink tea the way Martin drinks it, Benedict imitates him and then says 'pathetic', but it is not strictly intended to refer to Martin.
I know for a fact that Martin took it out on Benedict when he got married to Sophie Hunter, just because he didn't invite Martin to his wedding. On the same day, Amanda reported Martin's tantrums on twitter!!! 🤣🤣
Anyway! Even if the rumors were true, it doesn't matter. It's their problem, not ours.
Yes, it may upset us as fans, but these two are real people in the real life.
I'll conclude with this. If you have any other questions, feel free to contact me again! And anyone is welcome to comment on this or ask me anything. 👋🏻
#bbc sherlock#sherlockbbc#john watson#johnlock#sherlock#sherlock bbc#sherlock holmes#martin freeman#benedict cumberbatch#sherlock fandom#sherlock holmes/john watson#sherlock x john#sherl
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