#fluff-uary

[randomchaosyay]

February 3rd - Free De La Hoya - Cuddles

Warnings: None

Not enough people write for beyblade

Like these guys are unfairly hot and for what 😭😩

Reader gender not specified

You were trying to train in peace for once, your boyfriend, Free, still asleep. You had slipped out of his grasp when you woke up, knowing you’d get nothing done once he’d woken up. You managed to spend a good hour or two training and developing a new launch style before the shouts of your name started.

Kris was the first to find you, Valt and Honcho quick to follow. At this point you were quick to ask of the situation.

“Free?” You questioned.

“Free.” They replied, nodding their heads.

You went off to see what had become of that lovely boyfriend of yours. Since these three had come screaming and looking for you that could only mean one of two things. One, Free was walking around BC Sol and moping, or two he was completely obliterating battling the newbies.

Walking into the training room you were quickly able to figure out which one it was. About 5 people lay on the floor in exhaustion bey parts scattered everywhere. Letting out a soft sigh, you walked up to free and gave him a quick hug from behind as he burst, yet another, bey.

The change in attitude was instant, he quickly turned around, grabbed your hand and practically dragged you to his room, leaving behind a lot of confused newbies.

Pushing you back onto the bed he laid down on top of you, snuggling into you comfortably.

“I missed you” Free’s voice was a soft whisper.

“I know Love, but you can’t just bully the newbies until you find me again”

“It’s not my fault they’re not strong”

You sighed softly, and gently squeezed him tighter. You knew you wouldn’t be moving for the rest of the day. Sure there are more productive things you could be doing with your day.

But you wouldn’t rather be anywhere else than cuddling with Free.

[ir0n-angel]

🤍 Welcome to Year 6 of Fluff-uary! 🤍

FLUFF-uary is a creation celebration designed to display all your sweetness and light for the whole month of February. There will be a prompt for each day and you can do as many as you like, in any combination or order.

Feel free to write, draw, edit photos/videos…whatever you’re inspired to create. Have fun, it’s not a contest. You can join in for the whole month, do one or two, or even come up with your own. Do it at your own pace, even after February is over. There’s no word or size limits or restrictions other than to keep it sweet (no whump, please – we’re all about the comfort zone here).

When uploading your fluffs, please tag properly with the prompt, the tag fluffuary2025, and any other applicable tags (like genre, characters, any content warnings if you decide to go NSFW etc.) Any questions can be directed @ir0n-angel​.   As always, we hope everyone has a good time.

(reader-friendly plain text under the cut)

First Meeting

Banter/Flirting

Sickeningly Sweet/Cute

Make Them Laugh

Beverage Break/Date

Comforting Touch

Secret Gift Giving

Writing Letters

Silly Pet Names

Reassurance

"I Love You"

Flowers

Sneaking Out

Shopping Together

Sharing Food

Long Conversations

"I choose you every time."

Caretaking

Falling Asleep Together

Undivided Attention

Feelings Realization

Absolute Trust

Forehead Kiss/Touch

Domesticity

"This Made Me Think of You"

Private Language

Outsider's Observation

Sweet Fluff (writer's choice)

[whackacole3]

COWBOY’S GIFT

Cole had a gift for Sloan, a little cowboy get-up they had been wanting forever.

[legofanguy1999]

FLUFF-uary 2025 day 1 first meeting

A James Cameron's Avatar fanfiction for @ir0n-angel event Fluff-uary day 1 first meeting featuring my ocs Xander and Harper meeting the Omatikaya Clan.

The scout party from the Omatikaya Clan were a bit confused about meeting a strange pair of Na'vi whose wear clothes similar to what the Sky People wears as well they speak their language poorly as they understand the woman give their names, "Harper... Xander.... friends." The Na'vi party begins to talk among themselves with one of them saying, "These could be just dreamwalkers like Grace. What should we do?" and another Na'vi warrior said, "Should we leave them be and head home?" While Harper and Xander don't understand the language of the Na'vi, Xander does understand that their attempts to pass off as Na'vi don't work and the scout party are wandering what to make of them as it would seems.

[crackinglamb]

Chapters: 15/15 Fandom: Dragon Age: Inquisition Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Female Inquisitor/The Iron Bull (Dragon Age), The Iron Bull (Dragon Age)/Original Female Character(s) Characters: Mira Foret, The Iron Bull (Dragon Age), Cassandra Pentaghast, Varric Tethras, Solas (Dragon Age), Cremisius "Krem" Aclassi, Dorian Pavus, Cole (Dragon Age), Josephine Montilyet, Cullen Rutherford, Leliana (Dragon Age) Additional Tags: Fluff-uary 2023, Prompt Fic, Modern Girl in Thedas, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, OC Is a Charger, Fluff, Slice of Life, Hurt/Comfort, Shameless Smut, Service Top Bull, soft domming, Mild BDSM, Safe Sane and Consensual, Aftercare, Additional Characters to Be Added As They Show Up, Happy Ending Summary:

Mira Foret has drifted for years. On Earth she was shuffled from home to home, never settling down. On Thedas, she's been through the loss of her adopted clan, the Fifth Blight, the upheaval of the mage rebellion, and now the Inquisition. The only constant has been Iron Bull. This is only part of their tale.

But it's the best part.

 Written for Fluff-uary. Beta'd by Iron_Angel. NSFW will be marked with **. Updates on Fridays.

Chapter 15 - ...And Then Some

“I'm going to be 40, Bull,” she whispered.  “I'm too old.”

Two strides brought him to her side, where he held her tight and let her bury her face in his bulk.  “Nah, I've heard of older.”

“I have one arm!”

“So we'll make you a new one.  Or maybe I'll carry it around all the time, save you the trouble.  Make good on that threat to retire and let Krem take over.”

COMPLETE!

DAFF Crew tags

@warpedlegacy, @rakshadow, @rosella-writes, @effelants, @bluewren, @breninarthur, @ar-lath-ma-cully, @dreadfutures, @ir0n-angel, @inquisimer, @theluckywizard, @nirikeehan and @oxygenforthewicked.

[iruthomlogs]

Fluffuary 2025 day 1 first meeting

A Slay the Princess fanfiction for @ir0n-angel event Fluff-uary 2025 day 1 first meeting. This story is actually inspired by my first run in Slay the Princess which lead to the Damsel route.

The princess sit in the dark basement of this old cabin with a chain on her left arm, wondering who has placed her in this horrible place as what she got so far was this horrible saying in her mind that this is her punishment and the princess wanted to know why this have to happened to her. Just then, the princess hear the front door of the cabin open and she hear someone open the basemen door and then coming down the stars, which the princess to cry out, "H-Hello? Is Someone there?" and a voice, sound like a man but it sound a bit off, call out, "Just checking on you." which the princess, a bit stunned, call out, "You are? It's been so long since anyone's come down here. I was starting to think they'd forgotten about me." The princess wait until a humanoid crow come down before her and look at her, which made the princess nervous about what this silent stranger is thinking before she choose to ask, "Hi! Do you think you can get me out of these chains?" The humanoid crow said, "I'll see what I can do." and it walk up to the chains and give them a tug, finding that these chains can't break no matter how hard it can pull on them and the princess ask, "I'm guessing you don't have the key." The crow said to the princess, "I'm going to check upstairs. Maybe the key's still lying around somewhere up there. And if not, maybe I can at least find something to break you free." and the princess said, "Okay. I'll be here. Good luck." and the kind crow goes upstairs, only for the princess to hear the door shut and the crow crying out, "Hey! Let me out of here!"

When the crow comes back downstairs, the princess said to him, "I hear the door slam... They locked you down here too, didn't they?" and the crow said, "Unfortunately, yes. I didn't know there was someone else here since this cabin was empty when I come here. Maybe the person whose lock you up here and send me were the ones whose lock us up." The princess ask the crow, "By the way, who send you and why did you come here?" which the crow said, "I was told that you were going to destroy the world, but I don't think that you were a threat after seeing you." and the princess was stunned at hearing this that she shout at the crow, "I can't believe that someone is saying such things that I'm a monster. I'm a princess whose is locked in this old cabin, for heaven's sake, and this is my life. Do you think how mess up that sounds when you come to this cabin?" As the princess think about how horrible the person that forcing this on her and this hero, a voice speak in her mind, 'You are more than a princess. Chew off your arm to your freedom.' The princess hesitates when she hear this idea but she let the want of freedom throw her fear away as she raise her arm to her mouth and start tearing her limb with her teeth, to the shock of the crow, whose then got a blade out from nowhere and then cut her arm off.

[dinrenan]

19- Fluff-uary 2023

[604to647]

What’s a TomDaya?

14 screenshots / Modern!Pero Tovar x fem!reader

Summary: Pero regrets getting into a group chat with your friends.

Warnings: None! All silliness and fluff! Reader's friends are a bit extra, but it's all out of love 🥹 Pero's nickname for reader is Cookie (established relationship).

A/N: This is for @jolapeno’s Dear-uary event! I love, love epistolary fics so much, I decided to write two 🤭🤭 (This is the first, my other entry will be for Tim). The characters in this are from Mi Galleta, but it can be read as standalone. Reader doesn't appear, only her friends 🤭🤭 (Also congrats to Tom and Zendaya - I am unhealthily invested in their relationship 🫠🥹)

Dividers by @saradika-graphics / Series Masterlist

Tip for reading: click on the first screenshot, and swipe/tap to go to the next 🥰

Tagging @maievdenoir because you know why 🥹😘

If you like epistolary fics, I wrote two for Safest with You: 2 More Days (sextfic) and Holiday Remix (holiday fluff). Please check out all the other Dear-uary entries!!

[jennaispunk]

More than Friends

Summary: Some time away from your best friend forces you to confront your feelings.

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader

Rating: T

Word Count: 3.5k

Tags/Warnings: fluff, idiots in love, best friends to lovers, Frankie is a mechanic post TF (that’s my head canon for him), slightly non-canon (no lady, no baby), reader is able bodied and shorter than Frankie, no other physical description of reader is given. The photos in the moodboard are for aesthetic only.

A/N: Here it is. My contribution to the lovely @jolapeno Dear-uary challenge. I was given the task of creating something for my favorite guy, which also happens to be her favorite guy too. (No pressure right? lol). I hope you enjoy this little slice of fluff. Thank you to @maggiemayhemnj for giving this a once over.

P.S. No shade to the city of Minneapolis. I’ve only been to Minneapolis once but it is a very nice city. Reader is only a little unhappy about being there because she doesn’t like the cold.

Moodboard, dividers and banner by me.

Frankie’s texts in bold, readers texts in italics.

Your bag hits the floor with a dull thud. Seven days in Minnesota, in the fall, is not your idea of fun. It was your job to get the Minneapolis office on board with the new changes within the company, so here you are. At least it wasn’t snowing, that was something to be grateful for.

The last conversation you had with Frankie keeps replaying in your head. He said he’d miss you. It wasn’t only the words that had you thinking; it was the look in his eyes, the tone of his voice…it just felt different. Why did it always seem like he was trying to tell you something when everyone else was around, never when the the two of you were alone?

The two of you had been best friends for years. All the guys teased both of you about the way you flirted with each other, but that’s all it was. That’s what you tell yourself, anyway. But lately, it had felt like more, and it was getting harder to ignore.

Tuesday 4:41 pm

Made it to the hotel, safe and sound.

The city view is spread out before you. The skyscrapers jut into the clear, cerulean sky and you can see the Mississippi River and a clock tower that reminds of Big Ben from your window.

You miss your condo and your bed already. You miss Frankie, too. Was he missing you the same way you were missing him?

Frankie hears the chirp of his phone and wipes the grease from his hands, smiling when he sees your name on the screen. He’s been waiting for your text to know you made it safely.

He hasn’t been able to stop thinking about you since you said goodbye last night. The way your eyes sparkled in the moonlight on your deck almost made him confess everything to you. He came so close to telling you that he was falling for you and he wanted to be more than friends, but the words got stuck in his throat. He was always so tongue tied when it came to you. The cold, hard truth was that he was a coward, and he was afraid of losing your friendship. He’d rather have you this way than not at all.

There’s my girl! Glad you made it safe

The way he calls you ‘his girl’ makes you smile. Of course he would call you that now. You’re a thousand miles away and you can’t make him have a serious conversation about it.

It’s too cold here. I miss the Florida heat.

Frankie laughs out loud then looks around to make sure he’s alone. You were always cold, always borrowing a flannel or a hoodie from him.

What’s the temperature there?

55 degrees. Brrrrrrrr. I should have stolen one of your hoodies and packed it in my suitcase.

Frankie shakes his head. He’s honestly surprised that you didn’t steal one of his shirts. You did that all the time. The only reason he let you get away with it was because they smelled like you when he got them back.

That’s not so bad. You’ll survive.

He was right, you knew that. You packed a few different blazers and light sweaters. It wouldn’t be too bad, but you still missed the weather back home.

It could be worse, but I miss the palm trees and the beach already.

This week will go by fast, Clover. You’ll see.

You know he’s right. Work will keep you busy enough and there’s got to be something fun to do in this city. You have a weekend to yourself to explore but exploring isn’t as fun when you’re alone.

I know. I’m just complaining to complain.

You? Complain? Never lol

You stick your tongue out at your phone even though he can’t see you.

Shut up lol

You haul your suitcase onto the bed and start unpacking. Most of the clothes you brought needed to be hung up and the last thing you wanted to do was spend time ironing in the morning.

Your phone chirps again from where you left it on the bed.

What are you doing on your first night in Minneapolis? Besides missing me.

I’m having dinner with the management team here. The manager called and invited me.

Have a good time and try to act normal, okay? Don’t snort if anyone makes you laugh.

The sound of your laughter carries over the television you have on for background noise. He was the only one who could make you laugh like that.

Thanks, jerk. Talk to you later.

The first few days flew by as quickly as you hoped they would. The team here seems to have their shit together and it’s been a fairly seamless transition in getting them onboard so far.

Daily conversations were a normal thing for you and Frankie, but the distance between you only makes you miss him that much more. Every time he says something flirty; you just want to reach through the phone and shake him.

The two of you have been skirting around the truth for months. It’s just as much your fault as his. You don’t want to ruin your friendship if things go wrong. Maybe you’re reading too much into all this. Maybe you’re the only one with feelings here.

8:12 pm

Are you at Will’s?

Just got here, but maybe I should have stayed home. I’m missing my good luck charm so if I lose big tonight, it’s your fault.

If you were home, you’d be at Will’s too. You’d be hanging out with the guys and their girlfriends, having a few drinks.

The last time the girls were allowed over for poker night, Benny had teased Frankie about calling you Clover. He dared you to sit on Frankie’s lap for the last hand to prove that you were good luck. You saw the bob of his Adam’s Apple, heard the slight stutter of his chuckle; but Frankie, the well trained solider that he is, kept his composure and won the hand.

He whispered in your ear that you had always been his good luck charm. That’s when you knew for certain something had changed, at least for you. This was more than just harmless flirting. When you tried to question him about it, he tried brushing you off, but you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it.

Would it help if I wished you good luck?

It’s worth a shot

Good Luck!!

Thanks, Clover.

The hot tub was calling your name, a perfect way to relax after a long day. The bathing suit you packed was the one Frankie liked most…how ironic.

Soaking in the hot water was just what you needed. Your muscles relaxed under the heat and pressure of the jets. Thoughts of Frankie kept your mind from relaxing. The two of you were more than friends, that fact was clearer to you than ever. If only you could say it out loud.

Safely back in your hotel room, and freshly showered you check your phone. Frankie should be heading home from Will’s anytime. You should go to bed, but you can’t…at least not yet.

11:36 pm

Did you clean the boys out tonight?

Not exactly lol

Sorry. Maybe next week.

You’ll be home so my luck will change.

The three bubbles danced on Frankie’s screen. Did he say something wrong? His tongue darted out to wet his lips as he waited. There was so much he wanted to tell you, but he didn’t know how. It was so easy to flirt and joke with you but when it came to a serious conversation, any words he had didn’t feel like enough. He didn’t want to ruin your friendship. You’d been there for him in ways that no one else had. He couldn’t lose you.

I’ll be there next week. I think I’m going to turn in early. The time change is messing with me.

That was a slight exaggeration, but what else could you say? You couldn’t tell him that you were tired of pretending there wasn’t something between you, at least not over text.

Frankie’s free hand went under his hat to scratch his head. It wasn’t like you to cut a conversation short. Something was off with you; he could feel it. He wanted to call you out on it, but he was afraid of what you’d say.

I should get to bed too. I’ve got a big shot with a ’78 Camaro coming to the shop that needs some work done. Good night.

Good night

You drop onto your bed and close your eyes. Today made up for all the previous days with no issues. Everything that could go wrong did go wrong, and now you were exhausted. You thank the universe that you only have two more days to get through.

Tonight was going to be about wine, comfort food and cheesy movies. Pepperoni pizza with extra cheese was calling your name.

You shower and change into your sweats while you wait for your pizza. Frankie is all you can think of. He’s the one you want to talk to after a rough day.

Frankie had looked at his phone so many times today that Will had threatened to break it. He tried to assure himself that you were just busy, but it wasn’t like you not to at least send a quick text or two throughout the day.

After grabbing a quick bite to eat, Frankie couldn’t take it anymore. He picked up his phone and typed out a quick text. He had to know you were fine.

6:36 pm

Is my girl okay?

The ping of your phone made you jump. You’d been so busy that you hadn’t texted Frankie all day.

I’m okay. Today was a rough one.

Wanna talk about it?

Its just work bullshit. You know how it goes.

Frankie smirked. He could picture you now, sitting cross-legged on the bed with one hand rubbing the back of your neck. You always did that when you were tense.

Yeah, I get it. Pepperoni pizza and wine tonight?

You rolled your eyes and smiled. He knew you so well. You took a sip of wine.

Pizza is on its way

The two of you chatted more while you waited for the food. The wine was going down good…too good and it was making you feel brave.

What are you up to tonight?

I’m just hanging out at home.

You move the pizza box to the desk and stretch out on the bed. The movie in the background was all but forgotten.

Are you watching Bridesmaids right now? That movie always cracks you up.

Yeah, I’ve got it on.

Good. I wish I was there to cheer you up. I’d do anything to make you feel better.

Three bubbles dance on your screen.

I miss you

You clamp your eyes shut. You can’t do this anymore. You can’t pretend like the two of you are just friends.

Before you can stop yourself, your fingers are furiously typing a response.

Why do you always do that?

Do what?

This could blow up in your face, but you couldn’t take it back. You opened this door, and now you had to walk through it.

Drop these little hints. You only tell me the truth when you think I won’t hear it.

The silence stretches as you watch the bubbles dance on your screen then disappear and reappear again. It wasn’t something you should have said over text, but you couldn’t help yourself. It was way past time the two of you had this talk.

Frankie almost dropped his phone in his lap. He knew exactly what you meant. He thought he was doing a good job of keeping his feelings hidden. He didn’t want to risk your friendship. You were his best friend.

What is that supposed to mean?

All these little comments, the way you look at me like I’m the only one in the room. I’m tired of dancing around the truth.

Frankie swallowed hard. This was the last thing he expected you to say. How could he tell you how he felt?

What truth would that be?

The truth that we’re more than just friends. There is something more between us.

Again, those three little bubbles dance on your screen. Your heart hammers in your chest. Either he was going to tell you the truth or you lost a friend forever.

Can we talk about this when you get home? I promise we’ll have an honest conversation then.

Yeah, this isn’t something we should talk about over text anyway. We’ll talk when I get home.

You toss your phone onto the bed. You shouldn’t have said anything over text. Now both of you were going to freak out until then. Slamming your fist into the bed, you clamp your eyes closed. The feeling that you just ruined everything sits on your chest like an elephant.

You didn’t text Frankie again, what else could you say now? Acting like everything was okay wasn’t possible. Staring out at the city lights, all you could do was let the silence sit between you and hope that it would all work out the way it was meant to.

You toss your bag in your bedroom and start going through your mail. Thankfully, it was mostly junk and nothing urgent that you needed to worry about.

Frankie stood outside your door. Everything was about to change, and his heart hammered in his chest. He raised a trembling hand and knocked. He’d promised you a serious conversation when you got home, and he was keeping that promise.

“Frankie, what are you doing here?”

“I, um, promised you we’d talk… so here I am.”

The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled. His heart pounded in his ears as he stepped through the door.

This was it. It was now or never. Every stolen glance, every touch that lasted too long to just be friendly had led to this. He grabbed you and pressed his lips to yours without another word. He kissed you like he needed your lips to breathe, pouring everything he couldn’t put into words into that one action.

The need for air was the only thing that broke you apart. You stood foreheads pressed together, panting and inhaling each other.

“What was that?”

“The truth.” he answered.

You blink several times. That kiss had stolen everything you wanted to say.

Frankie looks at you. The sweat collects at his brow. This is what you wanted, wasn’t it? Maybe he shouldn’t have come on so strong. Maybe it was too much, too soon.

“Say something…please.” He whispers.

His soft, brown eyes plead with you to not leave him hanging. The silence between you is deafening as you try to find your words.

“When the pressure’s on, you really jump in with both feet, huh?”

The corners of his eyes wrinkle as he smiles. You love that smile, live for that smile. There is something almost boyish about his grin and it always leaves you weak in the knees.

“Was it too much?” he stammers. “It was too much.”

The light in his mocha brown eyes begins to fade. He should have taken it slower, maybe asked you out on a date before he crammed his tongue in your mouth. He could never think straight around you.

Your brow furrows as you watch him, seeing the look of defeat mar his features.

“It was perfect.” You whisper.

He cocks a brow at you as the sparkle returns to his eyes.

“Really?”

You nod your head. He was always perfect in your eyes, even when he was being an idiot.

“Yes, really. I think I should put pressure on you more often if it will make you kiss me like that.” you tease.

A rush of air caresses your face as he exhales. His throaty chuckle reaches your ears, and he pulls you closer.

“I don’t think my heart could handle that, querida.”

You lean in and brush your lips against his. This kiss isn’t headed and passionate, it’s slow and honest. It’s a kiss to make up for all the time the two of you spent denying what was in front of you the whole time.

The need for air is the only thing that makes you break apart. You stand together, foreheads touching under the bill of his hat, your breath mixing together.

Frankie swallows hard. He’s never been more scared in his life. Any mission, any tour overseas was a cakewalk compared to this moment. He had to do this right. He had to make this work. He couldn’t lose you.

“I want to take you out on a date.” He panted softly. “A real date with flowers, opening doors for you…the whole thing.”

Your soft laugh flitters through the air. You shouldn’t have expected anything less from him. When Frankie finally made a decision, he was all in.

“You want to take me on a date? Seriously?”

The corner of his mouth raised into a half smile.

“Yeah. I want to take you out. I want to do this right; treat you like you deserve. I want to make up for lost time.”

You can’t stop smiling. Why did you wait so long to confront your feelings? You wasted so much time.

“I’d love to go on a date with you.”

This time you get Frankie’s genuine smile, the one where his eyes practically disappear and the lines around his eyes are so pronounced.

“Good.”

He tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. You are the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, and he will always kick himself for waiting so long to tell you how he felt.

“I know you just got home and haven’t even had a chance to unpack, but how about tonight? I’ll pick you up and we can have dinner.”

You blink a few times and smile. This is really happening; the two of you are finally going to give each other the chance you were always too scared to take.

“Tonight works for me.”

The corner of his mouth lifts in a crooked grin. A small part of him was worried you’d say no; that all those things you said to him while you were gone were just a moment of weakness. His heart pounds in his chest as he looks at you.

“Yeah?”

His voice is barely audible as he pulls you even closer. His scent invades your nostrils: fresh and woodsy with a faint hint of motor oil. It’s a smell that’s uniquely him and one you will always associate with comfort and protection.

“Will you wear that purple sundress?” he whispers as he brushes his nose against yours. “The one you wore to that barbecue at Will’s this summer.”

You raise your brow. Your chest grows warm as you stand together, locked in each other’s arms.

“You remember that dress?”

Frankie chuckles softly. He remembers a lot of things about you; your favorite color, the way your tongue sticks out a little bit when you're concentrating really hard…he’s memorized so many details.

“Hell yeah. You looked so pretty in that damn dress; I almost dropped my beer when you walked in.”

You opened your mouth to speak but the opening notes to “Enter Sandman” blare from his back pocket.

“Shit.”

He grins sheepishly and relaxes his grip on you before putting the phone to his ear. Now that he’s got you in his arms, he’s not letting go.

“You have impeccable timing, Benjamin. What’s up?”

You rest your head on Frankie’s shoulder. The vibrations of his chest as he talks to Ben tickle your cheek. Being in his arms feels even better than you ever could have imagined. Frankie had always been home to you, but now home took on a brand new meaning.

“That sucks, man.” Frankie sighs. “Have the tow truck take it to the shop. I’ll meet you there and we’ll get it fixed.”

You lift your head as Frankie disconnects the call. Your nose wrinkles as he sighs.

“Sorry, querida. I gotta go. Benny busted a tie rod on his truck, and he needs some help getting it fixed.”

Leave it Benny to get himself in a jam. At least he’s not hurt or in jail.

You smile and raise up on tiptoes to give Frankie a quick peck on the lips. He would do anything to help a friend, and that’s one of the things you love so much about him.

“Go help Benny. He needs you more than I do right now.”

Frankie squeezes you and kisses your forehead. If he kisses your lips again, he’d be too tempted to leave Benny hanging. This will have to be enough for now.

“I’ll text you later.”

“You better.” you tease.

He finally pulls away and you miss his arms around you already.

“Frankie.”

You call out to him as he reaches the front door. He turns back to look at you with his hand still on the knob.

“Make sure you wear your cowboy boots and that ball cap tonight.”

He chuckles and shakes his head.

“Yes, ma’am.”

[staticscreenwriting]

I took the good times, I'll take the bad times II Joel Miller

Summary: Joel doesn't think he's deserving of love after all he did and all he went trough. Or maybe he's just scared. Either way he can't let himself fall for (Y/N). Now if only she'd stop sending him those damn postcards.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader (I always try not to describe the reader physically, if I missed something please let me know so I can change it and make this "applicable" to every reader. Thank you!)

A/N: This is my entry for the dear-uary challenge by @jolapeno . My prompt was "Character A keeps finding X and traces them back to Character B, who might be leaving them intentionally—or not." And I chose Postcards as my form of epistolary.

TW: This is mostly angsty fluff. There is some talk of self doubt and loss of a child but I think that should be it.

Likes, reblogs, comments are all much appreciated. I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please.

It all starts with a simple postcard tucked into the side pocket of his bag. Joel almost doesn’t realize it’s there, folded twice into a tiny square. It’s only when he’s looking for the list Maria gave him of all the things to look for on this run, that he grabs a hold of the card. 

His gloves make it hard to unfold the small paper but it’s way too cold to take them off. Joel was never big on winter and snow, even before everything went to shit. He doesn’t like the way it lingers, the way it consumes you from the inside out. Now, an unforgiving cold is all he feels as a thick blanket of snow has settled upon Wyoming. 

Bold bright letters scream out to him from the wrinkled paper “ Greetings from Tampa Florida. Wish you were here!”.

It’s one of those campy vintage ones where the letters are filled with drawings of landmarks and beaches. He remembers sending one just like this to his High School girlfriend when Dad took him and Tommy on a trip to Nashville when Joel was 16 maybe 17. It was a good trip, the last one they ever took together. Sometimes Joel wonders how his dad would deal with all of this. This new reality. This fucked up world. He always seemed so strong, so fearless. That man was unstoppable force and immovable object all at once. Every vulnerability Joel finds in himself, he’s sure was absent in his father. Maybe if he was a little more like his own dad he could’ve saved Sarah, could’ve spared Ellie the pain of living in this limbo of knowing and not knowing. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

Joel moves closer to the fire, his only light source other than the stars. There’s writing on the back, blue ink on off-white paper. It’s not a handwriting he knows and for a second he wonders if the card has been there ever since he found the bag years ago, back in Boston. But he would know that, right? Would've found it by now. This must be new. This must be meant for him.

“ I know you hate the cold. I know it makes you sad and gloomy, well gloomier than usual. So let me tell you about the hottest day I ever experienced. I was a kid, maybe 7 or 8 and my mom took me to Florida. Not Tampa (it was the only postcard I could find at the library), but Orlando. We went to fucking Disney World!! We didn’t have a lot of money back then so mom must’ve saved a long time for this. Anyway, Joel, it was so hot. Unbearably hot. My clothes stuck to my skin and my hair got all frizzy. Maybe July wasn’t the best time to go. The air was so thick and heavy, so moist (ew). It felt like breathing in honey, syrup maybe. I still had the best time. I know it doesn’t take away the cold but I hope I can take you away to that hot and humid Florida summer for one small moment. If not, there’s a wool scarf at the bottom of your bag. Made it myself. You never told me what your favorite color is. I hope you like blue. xx 

P.S.: I wonder what happened to Disney World.” 

A chuckle falls from Joel’s lips and forms a cloud against the sharp winter air. He's never been to Disney World. The Millers just weren’t a Disney World kind of family. They were more of a local fair kind of family. All corn dogs and funnel cakes and first kisses behind the bumper cars. Sarah would’ve loved Disney World though. Ellie too. Ellie who doesn’t even know what the hell Disney is. 14 years and the girl has no idea who Mickey Mouse is. What a surreal thought. What a strange world. More than 20 years and it still feels strange. Joel wonders if life will ever let him settle in this new reality. If one day this feels like home and not a bad dream. Not a cosmic punishment. A bad joke that no one’s laughing at anymore.

His eyes travel back towards the blue swirly writing. It’s not Ellie’s bad chicken scratch, he could pick that out of a line-up any day. This looks much neater, more deliberate, and thoughtful. 

“There’s a wool scarf at the bottom of your bag.”

Quiet, as not to wake up the others sleeping just a few steps away, Joel opens the zipper on his bag and rummages through it with a gloved hand. There’s a bunch of stuff in there, food rations, ammunition, a second pair of gloves. Going on supply runs is not something Joel enjoys but it is a way for him to give back. To Tommy and Maria and the entire community. Jackson and its people have taken him and Ellie in as one of their own without much hesitation. They provided them with food, with shelter, with trust. He has so little to give in return. Going on a supply run to look for medicine and other necessities, that’s the least he can do. 

Something soft and squishy meets his hand and he pulls out a dark blue woolen scarf. There are so many holes and even in the dim light of the campfire, Joel can tell those holes are not there on purpose. Maybe it was Ellie after all, but then she never showed any interest in knitting, and the idea of her doing just that is far too ridiculous. No matter how imperfect it is though, Joel has to admit the scarf does make him feel warmer as he wraps it around his neck. 

“Hey,” Adam, one of the other guys on the run, speaks up from beside Joel, “you can catch some sleep if you want. I can take over the watch.” 

It’s a strange thing, how sometimes you don’t notice just how tired you are or how hungry you are until someone points it out to you. Until they offer to take it from you. Then it hits you like a brick to the face. A wave pulling you under. 

Joel feels his eyelids grow heavy and nods at the younger man. "Thanks". 

This mystery, it can wait until tomorrow. Until then he will bury his face in the warm soft wool of the scarf and think of that Florida sun. And though it most definitely is just his imagination, Joel could almost swear the night feels a little less cold.

His boots leave deep imprints in the white icy blanket as he makes his way past the Tipsy Bison and the community hall further towards his house. His home. 

No place has really felt like home in years. Not since all of this started. Everything was temporary. 4 walls and a roof. He wonders if this place will ever start feeling like home? Will he ever get to a point where he doesn’t wait for the second shoe to drop? It all feels like he’s Charlie Brown and life is Lucy pulling the football away at the last second. And it always ends with him falling. He’s so tired of falling. So tired of getting back up.

Joel almost expects the house to be silent as he steps inside. Ellie is slowly making friends with the other teens living in the settlement and is spending more time at their houses than she is at home. He can’t blame her. If he was more like his father he’d find it in himself to start conversations with people, get to know them, forge connections, make friends. Of the Miller boys, Tommy is the one who inherited their dad’s social gene though, Joel only got the snarl and the crippling inability to talk about his feelings.

Laughter echoes through the house as Joel rounds the corner connecting the entryway to the living room. Ellie’s laughter, loud and bright and light. As if for a moment all the horrors and the pain and the trauma have been taken from her.

When he steps into the kitchen, Joel understands. 

(Y/N) is standing by the counter, a smile on her face so soft and radiant it might just rival the sun. That joy she brings out in Ellie, it’s familiar to Joel because he feels it too whenever (Y/N) is around. Not always but sometimes. It’s a spark of warmth that starts in his chest and crawls up his spine. It settles in his lungs, his heart, his brain. Like a parasite. Like a virus. Like a wonderful dream. He doesn’t allow himself to feel it all the time but sometimes, sometimes he can’t deny himself this little bit of warmth.

Joel can’t even remember when exactly (Y/N) became a part of their life. It’s like one day she was there and refused to leave. And really that’s kind of how it went. She works at the library and the school, lives across the street from him and Ellie and for some reason, she’s taken pity on them. Joel isn’t sure if it's him or Ellie she pities. Maybe a mix of both. Either way, she brought over some soup one day and that’s the beginning and end of it all. She’s wormed her way into Ellie’s heart and by extension his too. Whether he likes to admit it or not. Doesn't hurt that she's so damn beautiful too.

“Joel, you’re back!” 

Ellie pulls him in a tight hug. It’s something Joel still has to get used to. Ellie isn’t a particularly affectionate person. She’s definitely not a hugger. And neither is Joel — not anymore at least. So when they do hug, it’s still a little strange. Not bad strange just unfamiliar. 

“Yeah, I’m back. 

“How did it go?” (Y/N) asks and meets his eyes over Ellie’s head. A silent conversation happening between her and Joel. It’s that thing she does where she doesn’t need to say a single word but Joel can tell exactly what she’s thinking just by the look in her eyes. He sometimes wonders if this is a them thing. 

“Did someone die” her eyes are saying. “Did someone get hurt?” 

“Did you get hurt?” 

He quickly shakes his head answering her unspoken questions. Not this time. 

“Good. It went good.” 

Maybe the relieved sigh he sees her let out is just his imagination. But Joel doesn’t think so. Joel thinks it's very real.

“Did you bring us something? “ 

He can’t help but smile at that. It feels good to smile. In a world that gives you grief and sorrow, you start to count the moments when it gives you a reason to smile. They are few and far between but the number has surely increased since Ellie stepped into his life — and since (Y/N) did. 

“I brought food and medicine. Isn’t that enough? “

A determined “no” falls from both their lips in a chaotic harmony. 

“Geez, you guys are demanding.” 

“Well — did you bring us something?” 

Joel just rolls his eyes and rummages through his bag for the goods. 

“For you— “ he says and throws the old wrinkled comic book towards Ellie who regards it with that endless sense of wonder she does possess. It’s the kind of spark that flickers and dies once you grow old. Or maybe just his did. Maybe grief leaves no room for wonder. 

Placing his bag on the ground, Joel moves into the kitchen and holds out his loot to (Y/N). Green background. White goats. Yellow bubble letters.

“Oooooh, you did get me something. Pet Sounds, nice!” 

There’s a spark in her too. Dulled and dusted from time but it is there and it flickers and grows every time Joel brings her a vinyl record from his trips outside of the settlement. In a world with so little joy, music seems to be one of the few things that hasn’t changed. In the face of immeasurable pain, humans turn to music. They have done so for a long time and judging by the world as is, they always will. 

“I hope it works still. Didn’t really have a record player to try it out.” 

“I’ll try it out as soon as I get to the library. Feel free to come by and listen with me.” 

“Sure.” 

“Thank you, Joel. I hope you didn’t have to do anything stupid to get this.” 

He didn’t. Not this time. He would’ve though. It scares him how willing he is to put himself in danger just to get her something that will put that radiant smile on her face. He’d walk to the end of the earth if he knew there was a record there she wanted. That thought scares the shit out of him. It’s bad enough he cares so deeply about Ellie, about Tommy. The more people you care about, the more you open yourself up to hurt. Losing either of them would tear him apart. Joel is not sure he can handle opening his heart to yet another person no matter how much his heart wants just that. 

“ Nah. No issues.” 

“Good.” 

She just looks at him for a moment. All soft eyes and gentle smile. There must be something she sees in him, Joel thinks, something he doesn’t see. A version of himself that he isn’t, that he will never be. A version he once was, maybe. A version he so desperately wishes he could be. For her.

“Well,” (Y/N) says and snaps him out of her enchantment “Ellie and I made some stew. I know you must’ve been freezing outside, some good warm stew might help warm you up a little.” 

“It smells great.” 

“You have impeccable timing because we just got done. So, dig in. And uh — I guess I’ll see you guys at the movie screening?” 

He doesn’t want her to leave. The devil and the angel on his shoulders are both screaming at him to ask her to stay. And if he was any stronger a man, any more like his own father and more deserving of good things, he would ask her. To stay for dinner. To stay forever.

But he isn’t. And he doesn’t ask. Just watches as she wraps a scarf around her neck and slips into the thick jacket that's a few sizes too big on her.

“I left the recipe by the fridge. Just in case you ever want to cook it yourself.” 

“Thanks.” 

And he really is grateful. For her. For everything.

“Oh Joel,” she says and stops in the doorway. “I like that scarf. Blue looks really good on you.” 

And then she’s gone, swallowed by the cold winter air. 

Joel hasn’t thought about his favorite color in forever. It’s something you stop thinking about once you start growing hair on your chest and fantasizing about girls in a way you haven’t before. Kids talk about their favorite colors all the time. Sarah did. It’s just once you grow old you lose that sense of self, define yourself through different things. 

Looking at the scarf now, all holes and imperfections, there is no doubt in his mind that his favorite color is blue. 

“Have you ever been to Paris?” 

The lights are dimmed in the big community hall, the movie playing on screen providing the only source of light as the people of Jackson have gathered for another movie night. 

A glimpse into a world that was but no longer is and never will be again. And for some of them, like Ellie, a world that never was to begin with.

Ellie is sitting in the front with some of the other teens, her friends, Joel supposes. She has friends now.

“Joel, have you?” 

A soft hand rests on his arm, shaking him from his gloomy thoughts. (Y/N) sits next to him, eyes focused on the pictures dancing across the screen. Ilsa and Rick, falling in love over and over again in Paris. The beginning of a love story doomed from the start. 

“I uh — no. Never.” 

“Me neither. I would’ve loved to go though. It looks beautiful.” 

He doesn’t know why or how it happens but the words just flow from his mouth like a waterfall. For the first time in a while, he finds himself wanting to talk more. About the past. About Sarah.

“My daughter, Sarah, went to Paris once. Some school exchange program. They don’t usually do it until later but her French class was above average and I guess they won some contest. I don’t know it was a long time ago.” 

“Sounds like she was a smart cookie.” 

"Oh, she was. Too smart for me, that’s for sure. Was hard letting her leave and fly to a whole different continent though. I was scared out of my mind until she was back home. Drove Tommy crazy for a whole damn week.” 

(Y/N) turns her face away from the screen and regards him with that infinite sense of something more. Soft and endearing. If he was a different man he would call it love. He would see the way she looks at him and he would kiss her stupid and life would be all sweet dreams and gentle touches. 

But he is the man he is. Not worthy of whatever she is willing to give.

“What’re looking at me like that for?” 

“It’s just sweet how much you care. About everyone. I think you don’t even know you’re doing it half the time.” 

“Do what?” 

“Care for others. For Ellie and me and all of us. You’re a good man, Joel Miller. I just wish you’d let someone take care of you for a change.” 

He doesn’t need to be taken care of. He can do it all on his own. And anyway, he is not as good of a man as she thinks he is. Good men don’t have the blood of their loved ones stuck to their hands. Good men don’t let their daughters die in their arms. Good men don’t kill. Good men don’t do all the things he did. 

Joel doesn’t want to be a good man. He just wishes he was good enough a man to allow himself to be with (Y/N).

“I ain’t a good man. And I don’t need someone to take care of me.” 

“You wore that scarf, did you not? You allowed me to take care of you then.” 

That damn scarf. He had a hunch it was her. The handwriting on the postcard matched the one of the recipe stuck to his fridge an awful lot. But it’s something else entirely to hear her say it outright. 

“That was you, huh? Had an awful lot of holes that thing.” 

“Hey, I never said I was good at knitting. You wore it anyway.”

Joel turns back towards the screen as Rick and Ilsa share a loving kiss. 

“Yeah, I wore it anyway.” 

And to the sound of bombs and tanks, (Y/N) rests her head on his shoulder.

That’s what you do for the people you love. Even if you don’t allow yourself to love them.

You wear the scarf anyway.

The mailbox flag is up. Bright red against the sharp white of the winter's day. 

It’s never been up. People around here don’t get mail. It’s but an ancient relic of a life they used to live. Remnants of a society long gone. 

But Joel is nothing if not curious. So he stomps up to the mailbox, leaving deep imprints in the freshly fallen snow. 

It’s another postcard. Only this time it doesn’t come with a mystery. This time it comes with that silly little feeling that makes his heart beat just a little faster. That makes his head swirl with stupid thoughts of stupid dreams.

“From Paris with love,” it says on the front. Fucking Paris, of course.

Sometimes the way he feels about her is infuriating, confusing, scary.

And sometimes, like right now, it feels like a ball of warmth settles in his ribcage and warms him from the inside out.

“Dear Joel,

We’ll never have Paris. Not in this life at least. And while I would’ve loved to see the Eiffel Tower sparkle with you and make you eat a croissant (which you would’ve pretended to hate but I think you would’ve enjoyed it secretly), I am glad to get this life with you at least. Or alongside you. Whatever it is we are, I am glad this life gave me that in between all the pain. Despite what you like to tell yourself, Joel Miller, you are a spark of fire, a light in the dark. You are more than the sum of your failures, you are more than your pain. All the good that is in you, that counts. That’s all that matters in the end. And there is so much good in you.

I wish you’d let yourself see it. 

We will never have Paris. But we’ll always have Jackson and that is enough for me. I hope it’s enough for you.

Here’s looking at you kid! ;) “

There’s a tragedy in knowing someone else sees all your good parts and none of the bad. A tragedy in knowing how much they like those good parts and being awfully aware that seeing all the bad parts would destroy them. 

A tragedy in still wanting to show them all of you, even the ugly soul-destroying parts.

But if she thinks he’s a good man, then Joel needs to be just that. A good man who keeps those ugly parts hidden and away from her. Even if that means denying himself the one thing he wants. 

“What’s that?” Ellie speaks up from beside him, a curious look on her face.

“Postcard.” 

“Like what people would send from vacations and stuff?”

“Yeah, how do you know about that?” 

She rolls his eyes at him and it’s one of those moments where he feels like a dad again. Those little moments that mean the world to him because he gets to feel like the old him. The Joel he thought was long dead and buried beside the bones of his own child.

“I watch movies? I talk to people? I read books? Take your pick.” 

“Wow, when did you become such a smartass, huh?” 

She shrugs his shoulders at him “Was born that way. Nothing I can do about it.” 

“Unfortunately.” 

“Hey, you’ve grown to love me! You wouldn’t want me any other way.” 

And she isn’t wrong. Ellie, with all her curiosity and her bravery and her lust for life, whatever that life may look like, is exactly what he needed. Which makes him wonder if saving her from the fireflies was ultimately more of a selfish act than that of a heroic savior. 

“Who’s it from?” 

“None of your business.” 

“Oh, so (Y/N).” 

His eyes flick up and he is met with that satisfied, mischievous grin that is so uniquely Ellie.

“What makes you think that?” 

“You always change the subject when I bring her up. And that way you just jumped when I mentioned her? Yeah, you’re not slick, old man.” 

“Hey! Who are you calling an old man?” 

“You! Old and scared!” 

“I’m not scared!” 

Like hell he is. Terrified even. But there ain’t no way in hell he’ll admit that to Ellie. She’ll never let him hear the end of it. 

“Then go talk to her! She likes you, you like her. Why do you have to make it so complicated?” 

If only she knew all the ghosts swirling around inside of him threatening to break free. Things could be so easy. Only nothing ever is.

“Mind your own business, kid! Anyway, don't you have someplace to be? Think Dina came by earlier asking for you. You two are getting along well, huh?” 

“Aaaand on that note. See you for dinner, old man!” 

She’s gone before he can even hurl a reply at her. It pulls his lips into a smile. There’s no better way to get a teen to shut up than to bring up their crush. Nice to see that some things never change.

Another run. Another record. 

Joel feels silly, standing here in front of her door with his heart beating fast and heavy as he clutches the vinyl record in his hand. 

If Ellie saw him now, she’d surely make fun of him. Tommy too. Sarah even. 

What happened, Joel? You used to be so brave. What makes you so afraid now? 

Life, he thinks. Life has made him scared and bitter and sad. 

“Did you wanna knock or — ?” 

Joel turns around as the voice calls out to him. There it is again, that softness, that smile. 

“Uh, yes.” 

“Okay, good. Did you come to see me? Sorry, I was helping Maria at the farm.” 

“Yeah no uh — don’t worry about it. I just came to drop this off” 

Her eyes grow wide as she catches sight of which record it is he’s holding up. 

“No way! The stranger! You found it.” 

“ I did.” 

He had to clear an old dilapidated bar full of clickers to get that record. Almost lost his damn arm in the process. But her smile, that god-damn, life-ruining, world-shattering, heart-beat-faster, smile of hers makes it all worth it. He would give both arms, all of him. He would give it all to see her smile.

“Do you wanna come in and listen to it with me? Got my player fixed so I don’t have to use the one at the library anymore.” 

Say no. Just say no and go home. Be a good man! Be a better man! 

But he’s not. For this one moment, he can’t be that man. He’s just as weak as the rest of them. 

“Sure.” 

This feels so — normal. So before everything. Different and twisted and warped. But normal.

It’s scary and comforting all at once. Like a tipsy dream when you know you’ll wake up with a headache for sure.

(Y/N) is twirling around her living room, a beer in hand and a smile on her face. Joel leans against the door connecting her living room and her kitchen and all he can do is stare. At this woman who means so much to him. Too much for him to ever put into words. If he even knew how to. He’s never been a poet. 

“I said I love you, that's forever

And this I promise from the heart, mmm

I couldn't love you any better

I love you just the way you are, right”

“I love this song. Can you imagine someone loving you enough to write something like this about you?” 

Yes, he thinks. If only he WAS a poet. He would write a hundred songs. A thousand. And all of them would talk of her smile and her eyes and the way there is no single thing about her he would change. 

But words fail him. They always do. 

So he just nods.

“Joel,” she says and moves closer. The bottle of beer now placed on her couch table, her hands find his chest. So warm. So soft. And all he does is stare. 

“I know you got my postcards. I know you know how I feel. And sometimes I think you feel the same. I see the way you look at me. I know the dangers you put yourself in to get me those records. I just — you never say anything. So am I making a fool of myself here? Please tell me if I — “ 

“You’re not.” 

Wow, so eloquent. 

“I’m not?” 

Her voice sounds so small. So unsure. He hates that he’s the one who put the uncertainty there. Be a better man, Joel! Be a good man for once! 

But all he does is stare. Words fail him. Again. again. again.

“Then can I — can I do this?” 

(Y/N)’s gaze falls to his lips then back up to his eyes. She is so close. He can feel her warm breath on his skin. Can smell the scent of her shampoo. Notices the tremble of her fingers as her hands rest on his chest.

And he wants to kiss her. Every version of him that ever was and ever will be wants to kiss her. But all he does is stare.

All he does is stare and pull away.

And it breaks his heart to see hers break in that moment. 

“I uh — oh I’m sorry Joel.”

Tears gather in her eyes, fill them with sorrow, fill his heart with rage. He can’t do anything right, can he? Everyone he’s ever loved, he’s disappointed. But how can he let himself love her, how can he let her love him, when he is so broken? When all he does is break things?  Taint them with this infinite sadness that lives and grows inside his bones? 

“It’s not you.” 

“Oh please, Joel. I made a fool of myself already. Don’t make it worse.” 

“I ain’t trying to. It just ain’t you. It’s all me. It’s always been me”

His palms are sweaty and he feels like someone has reached into his ribcage, cracked every rib on the way to his heart, and ripped it out with bare hands. Snapping veins and arteries and all.

“I want you. I want this but I can’t have it. You think I’m a good man but the truth is, I am not. I do bad things all the time, over and over again and time and life have made me so numb to it. But you, you are so good. You deserve someone better. Someone whole.”

It’s like once he’s started it all comes flowing out like a fucking waterfall. All his fears and insecurities and pain. It’s all there for her to be disgusted by. Because god knows there is no way she won’t be. He is. All the time.

“I have not been the same since this all started. Since Sarah — since she died. I live with this immense grief. It surrounds me. It IS me. All of me. And I so desperately want to claw my way out of it. Rip it apart and leave it behind. But at the same time, I want to bury myself in it. Because what if I do leave it behind and I start to forget? Her and all that she was? How is it fair that I have to remember her far longer than I got to know her? So if I get better, if I become the man I need to be to be worthy of your love, am I still gonna be the man she knew? Can I still remember? Because that is all I have. And that is not a burden I can put on you. Not you and not Ellie.”

Joel takes a breath then another but it does little to calm him down.

“You two mean everything to me and I am sorry I am bad at showing it. That I can’t say it. I need you to know, it’s all me that’s the problem. It was never you. I’m sorry.” 

He doesn’t wait for her to say anything. He doesn’t think he has the heart to hear a reply anyway. It’s like he just ripped himself open and spilled all his guts, his heart, his lungs, and all his inside out on her living room floor. 

If he was any better of a man he’d pick them up and try to rearrange them.

But he is not a good man. Maybe he never was.

“There was something for you in the mailbox” Ellie exclaims and slumps down on the couch next to him. “I was this close to opening it but I didn’t want to make you even more grumpy than you already are.” 

“I’m not grumpy” 

He has to admit, the tone in which he said those words does not do much to counter her point. Ellie knows too, judging by the way she raises her eyebrow “Sure, you’re not.” 

She drops a sunflower yellow envelope on his lap. ‘Joel’, it says in that swirly handwriting he’s become so familiar with.

It’s been a few weeks since he’s seen (Y/N). Since he spilled all his sorrows and worries to her and then ran. And, surprisingly, Jackson makes it very easy for someone to avoid another person if you only try hard enough.

Maybe Ellie has a point, maybe he has been exceptionally grumpy lately. No correlation to any recent events though. Absolutely zero.

“Sooo are you gonna open it?”

Ellie looks at him with curiosity and that little spark of mischief as if she knows something he doesn’t. 

“Not with you watching over my shoulder, I ain’t.” 

“Why?” 

“Cause it’s none of your business.” 

“Excuse me? I have to live with your grumpy ass because you guys can’t get your shit straight. I think it very much is my business.” 

“Jesus, Ellie. Language!" 

“Sorry,” she says and gives him that pseudo-sheepish look he’s grown familiar with. “You guys need to get your stuff straight.” 

He used to scold her for it but really, he isn’t one to talk. 

“Anywayyyyy, I’ll go stay at Dina’s tonight … just in case you decide to go over and apologize for whatever it is you did and you guys finally sort it out and need some privacy later.” 

“Why do you think I did something?” 

And there it is again that sassy eyebrow raise. The same one he’s seen on Sarah so many times before. It truly is a woman’s world and he’s but a fool living in it. And they let no opportunity pass to remind him of just that.

They are also absolutely right.

“My lawyer advised me not to answer that question. Anyway, be nice. Have fun. Byyyye” 

Her voice trails off as she grabs her bag and rushes outside leaving Joel alone in this big empty house with nothing but his demons and this mysterious envelope.

Carefully he opens the seal and shakes out the contents. A postcard, a photo, and a — cassette tape? 

His eyes find the photo first. It’s a polaroid of him and Ellie and (Y/N). All 3 of them smiling, yes even him. He remembers that day back last summer. It was one of those warm but not yet hot days. (Y/N) was wearing that agonizingly beautiful red sundress. The one that made his heart beat twice as fast. She brought over a whole basket full of cherries from the tree in her garden. A pie too. And that damn Polaroid camera. 

Of course, Ellie was enamored by it, wasted almost the whole damn film. 

“Come on Joel, let's take a picture together,” she had called out to him and pulled him to sit down next to her and (Y/N) on the blanket they had placed on the lawn. 

“I’m not a picture guy,” he had grumbled, “ ain’t nobody want to see my old mug.” 

“Oh shut up. Joel, you are so handsome, don’t even pretend like you don’t know that.” 

It was the first time (Y/N) had ever called him handsome. It was hard for him to believe it then, hell it still is. But she has done it a lot more since then. Calls him handsome and gorgeous and pretty all the time. At first, he thought she was just humoring him but slowly but surely it dawned on him that she meant it. Means it still.

“We don’t know how many good sunny days we have left. Ain’t no shame in trying to remember this one, right?” 

Her eyes held so much honesty then. Vulnerability too. And gratefulness for all they had then after all they had lost. It made him smile then and it makes him smile now.

The Postcard is next, big bold letters spell out TEXAS and in the corner, there’s a drawing of the Texas State Capitol in Austin.

When he turns the Postcard over, there it is again, that swirly writing he’s grown to love so much. 

“Joel, the ‘Postcards from around the world’ book I got from the library didn’t have an Austin one but it did have a Texas one so that’ll have to do. I’m not even sure if you're going to read this. I hope you do because you didn't give me a chance to say my part when you stormed off & I think I deserve that.

You're not the man you were in Austin, you lived through the worst thing imaginable and it changed you. But you are not just your pain. It is part of you but it doesn't define you. I know you see all the bad but none of the good but believe me I see it! Ellie does! You are your pain but you are also the smile on Ellie's face when you bring her a new comic or teach her a song. You're the guitar chords echoing through the air on a warm spring afternoon. You are those fluttery feelings in my heart whenever you look at me.

Joel Miller, I understand if you don't want to be with me but if it's only because you don't think you're good enough then I think that's a choice I get to make. Taking that from me is a dick move. 

You said you're bad at showing love but you're not. You showed me through all those records. Through all those songs. Now let me love you back.”

Joel can’t quite name the feeling spreading through him. It’s both foreign and familiar at the same time. Like an old friend. A hazy memory. Pictures blurred and dulled by time and age. 

Maybe he was wrong, and he hates admitting that. Maybe he ain’t a good man but maybe that is hers to decide. Maybe. Maybe. Maybe.

He takes the cassette tape in his hand and squints his eyes at the tiny writing on the label. God, he really is getting old. Those eyes ain’t what they used to be.

God only knows - The Beach Boys - Pet Sounds

You’re my best friend - Queen - A Night at the Opera

Just Like Heaven - The Cure - Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me (you should!) 

In Your Eyes - Peter Gabriel - So

Time After Time - Cyndi Lauper - She’s so unusual

Your Song - Elton John - Elton John

Can’t Help Falling in Love - Elvis - Blue Hawaii

Wonderful Tonight - Eric Clapton - Slowhand

The Book of Love - The Magnetic Fields - 69 Love Songs (!!!! LOVE SONGS!!!)

Just The Way You Are - Billy Joel - The Stranger

"You gave me all these records with all these songs and all these words to tell me you love me and I’m not sure you even knew.” 

And she’s right. He got her those records because he knew they’d make her smile. Because that smile means everything to him whether he wants to admit it or not. He got those records to show her that even when he’s gone on a run, she’s always on his mind. He believed it to be a curse, a ghost haunting him for all his past mistakes and taunting him with what he shall never have.

But maybe it’s not a curse. 

Maybe it’s a blessing. A sweet song to remind him that someone back home is waiting. A gentle reminder that life can and will go on and good things can come from immense tragedy. And moving on doesn’t mean forgetting, in fact, it means remembering. Remembering the bad and believing that there can and will be good and that it’s worth it to go on. Even if you are a different you. Not worse or better, just changed. And that you deserve love. And kindness. And warmth.

Joel drops the envelope and its contents on the table and grabs his thick winter jacket as he rushes outside. The cold feels only half as bad as it nips at his skin, he barely notices. There is a fire inside him now, burning away all the doubts and hesitation. 

He’s back at her door, only this time he doesn’t wait to knock. He’s spent so much time denying himself the one thing he wants that he can’t lose just one second more. The rapping of his knuckles against her door echoes through the winter day. Oh, how he can’t wait for the spring and the summer and her in that gorgeous dress. 

“Joel?” 

Back before — everything, Joel remembers a movie night with Sarah. She got to choose and despite being an avid fan of trashy action and horror movies, that time she chose a romantic comedy. All things considered, Joel can admit that when Harry met Sally wasn’t the worst choice but he still would’ve preferred Star Wars or Terminator. 

He does remember the ending though, the grand finale. He remembers Sarah trying to wipe away tears without him noticing. And he remembers Billy Crystal’s words “When you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.” 

Back then he thought it was some silly, cheesy movie speak. No one feels that way, right? It’s grandiose and kitschy for the sake of movie magic.

But no, he’s sure now, that one is true. Because it’s how he feels.

“I love you!” 

That confession should come with ribbons and flowers and fireworks but it doesn’t. It comes with honesty and that is all that matters. It comes from the heart.

“Huh?” 

“I got your postcard. The photo too and the tape. And I love you.” 

“I know. Took you long enough to figure it out.” 

“I’m sorry. I — I still believe that I am not a good man and that you deserve better. But it would be selfish to punish you for my own insecurities. I love you and I want to let you love me. If you still want to, that is.” 

“Joel Miller?”

“Yeah?” 

“Please just fucking kiss me.” 

Joel remembers a lot of kisses in his lifetime. Some rushed, some clumsy. Quick kisses in secret. Long drawn-out smooches in smokey bars. Loving, fast, aggressive, and soft. 

This one is different, as cheesy as it sounds.

This kiss makes him feel like all he’s ever been and all he ever will be can live in peace with one another. This kiss makes him feel like none of it matters as long as he has her. 

She tastes like peppermint and sunshine and he’s sure he’ll never get enough of her. The feeling of her skin against his as he gently cradles her face in his hand. The soft movements on her chest as she breathes. The twitch of her lips as she smiles into the kiss.

For the first time in his life, Joel is sure that a kiss is more than a kiss. It’s a healing hand on a shattered heart. It’s a new path to a new future. It’s sunshine melting the ice from his bones.

It’s a promise to try every day and to be better and to be enough. ---

[randomchaosyay]

Masterlist! 🤍

Harry Potter

My Hero Academia (Boku No Hero Academia)

Death Note

Beyblade

Yugioh

Pokemon

Demon Slayer (Kimetsu No Yaiba)

Naruto

One punch man

Glitter Force

Attack on Titan

Haikyuu

Voltron

Dr. Stone

Blue Exorcist

Spy Family

Assassination Classroom

Jujutsu Kaisen

Blue Lock

[ir0n-angel]

💛Welcome to Year 5 of Fluff-uary, with new prompts!💛

FLUFF-uary is a creation celebration designed to display all your sweetness and light for the whole month of February. There will be a prompt for each day and you can do as many as you like, in any combination or order.

Feel free to write, draw, edit photos/videos…whatever you’re inspired to create. Have fun, it’s not a contest. You can join in for the whole month, do one or two, or even come up with your own. Do it at your own pace, even after February is over. There’s no word or size limits or restrictions other than to keep it sweet (no whump, please – we’re all about the comfort zone here).

When uploading your fluffs, please tag properly with the prompt, the tag fluffuary2024, and any other applicable tags (like genre, characters, any content warnings if you decide to go NSFW etc.) Any questions can be directed @ir0n-angel​ and @crackinglamb.   As always, we hope everyone has a good time.

(reader-friendly plain text under the cut)

banter/flirting

being silly

pining

flustered/tongue-tied

discovery

borrowing clothes

helping out

laughing together

"This made me think of you."

private language

caretaking

holding hands

flower crowns

dancing

acts of devotion

cooking together

snuggling

night out

love bites

sharing food

forehead kiss/touch

giving reassurance

"I choose you."

hugs

"You changed my life."

promises

reminiscing

"I love you."

sweet fluff (writer's choice)

[lilmissnatcat24]

bound ch 4- courting, for beginners

Shepard and Garrus begin their fake courtship

pairing: female shepard/ garrus vakarian

rating: explicit

tags: regency au, marriage of convenience, enemies to lovers, slow burn, eventual smut, fake dating, mutual pining, hurt/comfort, fluff and angst

this is for jane-uary! day 16- gossip (i know i'm early but i haven't posted anything in a while and i am desperate for attention) @janeuary-month

lil text blurb:

“We shall develop a code.” 

Garrus nearly stumbled. He looked at her as if she had started to speak some alien language fluently. “A code?” he asked, as if the word was a slur. “Whatever would we need that for?” 

“Well, say we are in a situation that we need to speak to each other urgently, yet there is no polite way to excuse ourselves first,” Shepard explained. “If we had a signal, then we could use the proper avenues of exiting a conversation and room without arousing suspicion.” 

“Miss Shepard, we are to be married in the court of law, not pull off some daring heist drawn directly from an espionage novel.” 

“Well, of course if you would prefer our code to be a bold proclamation across the entire room that we are fabricating a relationship--” 

“Alright. Alright,” he conceded. She felt as though she won a battle she did not quite realize she was fighting, a haughty little smile etched on the corners of her lips.

[whackacole3]

FEEL

Amélie was feeling things again... Olivia, as always, was by her side during this.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/62837323

[sezja]

FLUFF-uary 2025 Day 1: First Meeting

Fandom: Final Fantasy XIV Relationship: OC & OC (Tajna Ratyasch & Lytora Envers) (Particularly for @morocosmos, who once requested a glimpse into Lyte and Tajna's shared childhoods.)

She snuck out.

She snuck out!

Hunkering deeper into the fuzzy collar of her coat, Tajna creeps cautiously around the corner of the house, scarcely daring even to breathe. Every little sound - a bird chirping overhead, the wind rustling the grass, even the distant muttering of voices - makes her jump; each noise threatens to send her scurrying back to the safety of her bedroom.

If her grandmother finds out she's snuck out - when she's meant to be napping... ohhhh, she'll be grounded for weeks.

But no one would ever dare imagine that shy, flinching Tajna would ever break the rules; no, she's a good girl. All her tutors say so, and so do her parents, and yes, even her grandmother, strict as she is. No one would ever dream Tajna might be capable of disobedience. No one will even think to check in on her, to make sure she's sound asleep in her bed...

But no.

No, she's creeping her way along the walkways that wind through her neighborhood, trying to - all at once! - avoid being seen, remember where she's going, and look casual while she's at it.

She's got a secret.

It's not a very big secret, of course. Not the kind of secret that would, on its own, get her in trouble. Probably. Maybe. She's not testing it, and that - that little act of rebellion, not reporting what she's doing to her parents - lights a little fire of exhilaration in her core. Maybe she feels brave, a little. Maybe she likes feeling brave. A little.

Heart thumping against her ribs every step of the way, she at last reaches her destination: a little house at the far end of her street, nestled in among some sleepy trees. She knows the man who lives there is a retired gleaner - his wife was a professor at the Studium, and their daughter is one of Tajna's tutors, specializing in botany. Plants. Flowers. Her studies are rudimentary - she's only seven years old, after all - but she does like to flip through her tutor's books, gazing with quiet delight at the diagrams of the various plants and trees from around the world... or at least Eorzea, where the bulk of the research was done, evidently.

Eorzea. Her parents say the word like it's some faraway fantasy land; as though Tajna herself wasn't born in the Dravanian colony just across the way.

Her tutor has been to Eorzea, though.

Tajna's secret is a greenhouse: a glass haven where it's springtime year-round, stocked full of plants from distant Eorzea. Lilies from the depths of the Shroud, roses from the gardens of wealthy Ul'dah monetarists. Bellflowers from La Noscea. Some of them even came from floating islands in the sky, gifts from Ishgardians. Tajna doesn't even know what any of those places are, not really, but her tutor does, and she tells the most wonderful stories...

It tugs at her, a little. A little pull under her heart; a little whisper she can't quite hear just yet.

She settles into the grass just outside the greenhouse, just as she has the last few times she's dared to attempt this escape. She'd worn her boy clothes again today - they almost don't fit anymore, but she hadn't wanted to explain grass stains on the knees of her skirts, and she's grateful for it now; the ground is a little muddy. If her tutor was home, she could've just knocked at the greenhouse door and been let in-

"What are you looking at?"

The voice startles Tajna so badly, she yelps, biting her tongue in the process. No! She couldn't have been seen, she couldn't have been caught-

It's a girl.

A little hyuran girl, more or less her own age, with dark blue-violet hair pinned up in a neat braid, and eyes the color of stormclouds, standing there with her hands fisted at her hips. Tajna's mouth goes dry: she knows this girl, sort of. One of the bossy, brassy, popular girls, always with a gaggle of friends surrounding her... but she's alone for the moment. Or at least she seems to be. Who knows how many other girls might be lurking in the shadows, ready to mock Tajna for being quiet and odd...

"F... flowers," she manages, after too long a pause. She'd hoped the girl might wander off, bored.

Instead, much to Tajna's dismay, the interloper delicately pads her way over across the grass, lifting the hem of her long skirt ever-so-slightly. She stands a moment by the hrothgar's side, peering through the misty glass. Tajna feels cold all over, and it owes nothing to the chilly Sharlayan air: this girl could ruin everything! If she tattles, if she decides to mock and tease, if she just... just knows about Tajna's secret, then-

"Flowers," the girl repeats, a little bemused. "So there are. I wonder how they keep them from freezing?"

"It... it's a greenhouse..."

"Yes, but," the girl gestures impatiently at the air around them. "Is it kept warm with fire shards, do you know? Or magic?"

"I..." She shakes her head, feeling stupid. "I don't know. I just... I just like to look at the f-flowers."

The girl looks at her then, really looks at her, looking a touch surprised - as though it only just occurred to her that Tajna was there. She blinks. And then she grins, a little dimple appearing at the corner of her lips.

"And so you should," she declares. "They're lovely, aren't they?" And then, heedless of grass stains or mud or even Tajna's flinch, the girl takes herself a seat at the other girl's side, and together they gaze at the flowers in amiable silence.

And just like that - whether she likes it or not - Tajna has a best friend.

[crackinglamb]

Chapters: 7/29 Fandom: Doctor Who (2005) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Ninth Doctor/Rose Tyler Characters: Ninth Doctor (Doctor Who), Rose Tyler, Jackie Tyler Additional Tags: Fluff-uary 2024, Prompt Fic, Established Relationship, Bad Wolf Rose Tyler, Nine Lives, Slice of Life, Mostly plotless, Fluff and Smut, Telepathic Bond, The Doctor Loves Rose Tyler, Rose Tyler Loves the Doctor, POV Multiple, You've Heard of Canon Adjacent, Get Ready for Canon Tangential (it's canon divergent but timey-wimey), TARDIS Rooms, Referenced offscreen character death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Mild Angst, Cameos Series: Part 2 of A Golden Thread Summary:

"Better with two." Oh yes, much better. Fantastic.

 Beta'd by Iron_Angel. NSFW will be marked ** Updates daily.

Chapter 7 - Lunacy**

She beamed at him sideways, still watching the moons separate in the sky.  “’S lovely.”

“Yes.”

“You been quiet tonight.  Cat got your tongue?”

“You.” He watched the flush rise, felt the change in her pheromones as it dawned on her what he meant.  Her grin turned a little shy – even now, even after all their travels and adventures and everything – and he smiled down at her, for one moment perfectly content to bask in her radiance.  “C’mon, the dancing’s gonna get more like dancing by the second.”

“To the TARDIS?” she asked, mildly doubtful since it was parked fairly far away.

“Nah, we can just head back to the Helox’s place.  This’ll all be over by morning and we can make our goodbyes.”

“Sounds good to me.”