#health write for us guest post

[techlatestupdates]

[kayawellhealth]

Complete Guidelines to Submit Guest Posts

We at Kayawell welcome all the enthusiastic writers to their “Write for Us” segment. Each writer is requested to provide a guest post or technology-oriented content on our website. We believe in alliances that expand the growth on both sides, i.e., the company and the writer.

What Is a Guest Post?

A guest post is when an Author creates content for someone else’s blog under their name. Writing guest blogs is a simple approach to obtaining a lot of exposure in a short amount of time. The content of the guest posts is usually related to the client’s business or industry and is written by the client or a ghostwriter on their behalf.

What We Publish on Our Website:

We publish articles between 1200–2,500 words, depending on the subject complexity. 1,500 words are about average. Articles often run with a custom illustration. Articles may be casual in tone and content—great for less-intensive tutorials and posts—or rigorously structured and edited. All should be well-considered explorations of current and cutting-edge topics in the Health industry.

Tips for Guest Posting Success:

Find out the blogger’s target audience and write to them directly. Make sure the blog you choose to guest post on is relevant to your niche and has an engaged audience. Some tips for Guest Post Success.

1) Choose the right blog:

2) Read the guidelines:

3) Research the topic:

4) Keep it concise:

5) Promote your post

What Are the Requirements to Write for Us?

Content should be 100% unique & fresh without any grammatical & spelling mistakes.

The minimal length of the article should be more than 1200 words.

Use proper Headings, Subheadings, and bullet points, and ensure the readability score is not less than 40%.

The article should have at least one feature image (You can share more pictures according to the blog points). These should be unique.

Do proper keyword research before writing content and use long-tail keywords.

You may include only one link to your website. And links to internal posts and high-authority sites like Wikipedia.

We do not accept content related to adults, casinos, gambling, CBD, dating, or any other illegal niches.

If you write a topic on healthcare tips, it will be very good and rank quickly. Our website is also approved on Google News.

Source URL:  https://www.kayawell.com/blog/write-for-us-guest-post

[sunrisedu]

WRITE FOR YOGA GUIDELINES

Uniting Body, Mind, and Spirit: The Transformative Power of Yoga

The Physical Realm:

Strengthening the Body At its core, yoga offers a plethora of physical benefits. Through a series of asanas (postures) and pranayama (breathing exercises), practitioners enhance flexibility, build strength, and improve balance. Whether it’s the gentle flow of Hatha yoga or the dynamic intensity of Ashtanga, each style offers unique advantages tailored to diverse needs and preferences.

Moreover, yoga serves as a preventive and therapeutic tool for various ailments. From alleviating chronic pain to enhancing cardiovascular health, numerous studies attest to its efficacy in promoting overall physical wellness. By fostering mindful movement and body awareness, yoga cultivates a deeper connection between individuals and their physical selves, fostering a sense of vitality and resilience.

The Mental Landscape:

Cultivating Mindfulness and Emotional Balance Beyond its physical dimensions, yoga serves as a potent catalyst for mental and emotional well-being. Through the practice of mindfulness and meditation, individuals learn to observe their thoughts and emotions without judgment, fostering greater self-awareness and emotional resilience. This heightened awareness extends beyond the yoga mat, permeating daily life and empowering individuals to navigate challenges with equanimity and clarity.

The Spiritual Journey:

Awakening the Inner Self At its essence, yoga is a spiritual practice — a journey of self-discovery and inner transformation. Rooted in ancient wisdom and philosophy, it invites practitioners to explore the depths of their being, uncovering the interconnectedness of all existence. Through practices such as meditation, chanting, and self-inquiry, individuals embark on a quest for self-realization, transcending egoic identifications and tapping into their innate divinity.

Yoga offers a path to spiritual awakening, guiding individuals towards a state of union with the divine — whether conceived as God, the universe, or the higher self. As practitioners delve into the realms of meditation and contemplation, they experience glimpses of transcendent bliss and unity consciousness, transcending the limitations of the individual self. In this sacred journey, yoga becomes a vehicle for self-transcendence, aligning individuals with the inherent harmony of the cosmos.

Conclusion:

In a world marked by rapid pace and perpetual change, yoga stands as a timeless oasis of tranquility and self-discovery. It empowers individuals to embark on a holistic journey of transformation, uniting body, mind, and spirit in a harmonious symphony of being. As we embrace the transformative power of yoga, may we cultivate greater awareness, compassion, and inner peace, both on and off the mat. For in the sacred space of the present moment, we discover the boundless potential of the human spirit to soar beyond limitations and awaken to the fullness of life’s divine essence.

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[webblogers1]

Get to Know the Best Healthy Diet for Making You Healthy-Web Blogers

In this blog, you will get to know more about the best healthy diet to make you healthy. Healthy eating not only affects our physical health but also our mental health. For example, green vegetables help us maintain strength and energy. read this blog to get more about it.if you want to share your best healthy diet tips on our website then contact Us. Weblogger is the best guest post submission site where you can publish your content related to health and diet categories.

[dinogoofymutated]

Happy halloween everybody!!!!

Well, Happy early halloween, that is! I hope everyone is having a good day! As some of you know, I'm choosing to celebrate my 1000 follower celebration in the incoming months!! (well, technically like 1300 right now, I'm a little late 😭) I'm doing something especially special for this event, and I'll be letting all of you guys customise your fics!!

So the way this is going to work will be fairly simple. I will be writing these fics exclusively in the incoming months due to the fact I've been extra short on time lately, Overall, I will be posting four customised x-men fics in the month of October (once every week) Plus a special guest appearance on halloween day!

Sounds good, right? Well, you might be wondering, "Goofy, how in the world are these customisable?" And let me tell you!!! I will be creating seven writing prompts for all of you to choose from! The first three fics will all have two prompts per poll, with the winning prompt being the one used for that fic in particular!

But don't worry if the prompt you voted for doesn't win, it won't be lost to fanfic limbo completely! The fourth fic in october will have four prompts to choose from, the three losers + a brand new prompt! That way each of the losers gets a chance at redemption!

Once a prompt is selected, I will then create another poll to choose what character will be chosen for that fic! Not every character in X-men will be on every single poll, as candidates will be chosen by prompt compatibility. Once a character is selected, there's also a chance I will create a third and final poll choosing what sort of halloweeny character they should be!

These polls will be posted in the weeks leading up to october, with my hope being that I will have them all finished before october actually starts. I'm very excited to do this with Y'all, as I definitely have not done an event like this before!! Y'all better help me stick to it!

(Also, I have most of the characters I plan to put in the polls in the tags, but if you have someone in mind and want them to be considered as a candidate, please reblog, reply, or send me an ask!)

Poll 1: Haunted Mansion vs. Hocus Pocus!

Prompt one: Haunted Mansion

You've recently moved into an old, spooky mansion that your great-aunt left you in her will. It's been uninhabited for years but is strangely well-kept. You're sure you live here alone, but every once in a while you can't shake the feeling of being watched…

Prompt two: Hocus Pocus

You've been working at the Harkness museum of witchery for about six months now. One night after you get off of work, you decide to take a walk through the graveyard across the street to look at the stones. You find a very strange cat stuck in a trap in the process, and let the poor thing out. Turns out, he's not actually a cat at all, but working at a witch museum has its perks, and you find yourself helping the kitty regain it's true form!

Winning selection: Haunted Mansion!

Character poll:

Candidates: Nightcrawler, Quicksilver, Cyclops,

Winning selection: Nightcrawler!

Poll 2: Howling vs. Bloody halloween

Prompt Three: Howling

Something has been spotted in the woods behind your house. You don’t believe any of the bullshit all these reporters and wannabe horror vloggers are pushing, all you know is that you really want them off your land. Until you have a personal encounter with this creature, that is. What is the thing that has seemingly moved into your neck of the woods, and does it have anything to do with your new neighbor?

Prompt Four: Bloody Halloween

A bat flies through your window one night, and although you're dreadfully afraid of rabies and scared to touch the little thing, it's in really bad shape and you can't stand by and just let it die. You spend the next few days nursing the little guy back to health, when one day he up and disappears. The next night you go out with your friends, and feel like you keep seeing a familiar pair of eyes in the crowd.

Winning selection: Bloody Halloween!

Character poll:

Candidates: Gambit, Quicksilver.

Winning selection: Gambit!

Poll 3: Season of the Witch vs. Halloween town!

Prompt Five: Season of the Witch

You’ve always considered the rumors about your family’s witchy and magical past to be fictional, absolute nonsense. Well, you did, until you found yourself accidentally bound to someone who’s more or less your familiar. Neither of you particularly wants this, so you focus on whatever magical skills you managed to inherit on breaking the bond- but is that really what you want?

Prompt Six: Halloweentown

You've won the title of best pumpkin carver for the past five Halloweens, which is a big deal in Halloween town! The Sixth year rolls around, and you're determined to keep your title. Until some dude accidentally smashes your masterpiece mere steps from the festival. You make him swear to you he'd make up for it next year. You've almost forgotten about it when the end of August rolls around, only to find him right at your doorstep.

Winning Selection: Season of the Witch!

Character Poll:

Candidates: Angel, Morph, Quicksilver.

Winning selection: Morph!

Poll 4: Redemption round

This poll was a chance for the losers to win, and one fresh prompt to round them out

Prompt 8: Practical Magic

You recently found out that your family is cursed for any man you love to die. You’re devastated when you find this out the day after you realize you’re deeply in love, and make it your mission to keep your boyfriend alive. Shenanigans and ridiculous conflicts ensue, and after a very long couple of weeks- He reveals to you that he’s been immortal the whole time.

Winner: Practical Magic!

Character Poll:

Candidates: TBA

[stinalotte]

So. Basingstoke Comic Con.

This is going to be a rant. I'm German, so I have a PhD in a) complaining and b) being blunt. Perfect combination for this post. It's going to be long, so buckle up.

I give explicit permission to repost, reblog, screenshot and post to other websites, comment, tag, and add to this in any way you see fit. Feel free to write your own experiences and criticism.

It's a modified version of the feedback email I sent them. Since then, they have put out a statement which directly contradicts some of the stuff other people have told us (and have evidence for) and which blames everyone from attendees to guests to staff to the weather.

First of all, despite all the mess with the actual con, I had a ton of fun. I hadn't seen some of these people in 20 years. I hadn't met some of y'all before, and I talked to so many people this weekend. I don't regret a single meeting, hug, smile, or laugh. I do wish however for the organizers to step on legos for the rest of their lives.

Frankly, they had a huge business opportunity and they blew it. They could have established themselves as THE Stargate convention in Europe. People were taking 15-hour flights to be there. We were willing to spend hundreds, in some cases thousands of pounds. With that lineup, they blew every other current convention out of the water. If they had done this right, this would have been a huge success and an absolute no-brainer for years to come. They could have been one of those cons that sell out in minutes. 

Instead, they let greed and poor organization guide them. They severely underestimated the size of the Stargate fandom. They didn't bother to learn about what the fans wanted and who the guests actually were.

A few things stood out for me:

Health and safety at the venue. No a/c, running heaters (!!) in some rooms, not enough opportunities to get water, way too many people for this size hotel. We are lucky there wasn't a panic or more severe injuries. Crowd control was non existent.

An impossible, ever-changing schedule. You can't put talks back to back, or meet&greets, or photo ops. Everybody knows you will run overtime and then the whole thing collapses. Changes were not communicated. Nobody knew what was going on.

Poorly trained staff. No staff meetings beforehand. Staff had no way to communicate with each other. Seriously, give them radios! Some of them didn't now the names of the guests or in which autograph group they were.

People could not get the things they paid for. Out of all the autographs included in my pass, I only got one, and only because a friend got it for me. [Marion, you're a fucking rockstar] I don't even want to know how many people will be attempting chargebacks on their credit cards in the coming days.

And the most important thing, the one that makes everyone I talked to the angriest: The way they treated the guests was appalling. They are such generous, hard-working people, and BCC shamelessly took advantage of that. Richard Dean Anderson was signing until after 1 am. A 74-year-old man who just wants to make his fans happy.

[BCC are now saying they were told he was a „slow signer“, aka someone who actually takes their time by talking to fans when signing autographs. Oh really? Then why did you continue to sell autographs well into Sunday when it was clear that there was no way he could get through them all in a reasonable time??]

David Blue was setting up his own autograph table. Several Atlantis actors went and got more of their headshots (by taking pictures in the photo room and printing them) because they ran out. Joe Flanigan tried to bring some order to the chaos more than once. He went full John Sheppard in the photo op room and took charge. We are lucky they're such sweet souls and didn't raise hell then and there. Nobody would have blamed them.

Staff were amazing and tried to make the best with what little support they were given. Kathleen, Finn and Nick (with the Stick!) especially, and so many others whose names I sadly didn't get. They worked so hard, never lost their humor, and tried to help as much as they could.

This disaster is entirely on management. It's a failure of leadership and an example of what not to do when you're running an event.

If you want to put on a convention, you need to go to people who have experience and listen to them. You need to attend several cons before even thinking about doing one yourself. And before, during and after, you need to take care of your people. You need to take care of your staff, of your guests, of the fans. You need to adjust the size of the event to the size of the venue, or vice versa. You need to actually be interested in this event beyond the money it will earn you. You need to know when you bit off more than you can chew.

I'm not hoping for a better one next year, because all of us said we won't be back. What I do hope is that hey sincerely apologize to the guests and at least double what money was raised for charity.

[im-not-samantha-im-samanta]

Request by: @jellibean2018

Hello, Jelli! About two months ago you sent in a request, however my tumbl did me dirty, and I ended up with your ask, and the entire fic deleted! (Though, much to my relief, I found screenshots of the fic in a chat with my friend who was reviewing it. Thank god).

So, I have to tag you, and remind you what you wanted.

From what I remember, you wanted a fic with a female sinner Reader who was once a victim of Alastor's, and the two ending up meeting again in hell. You also wanted an unsettling vibe with Alastor reveling in the memory of killing Reader.

I also want to add that I apologize for how long you had to wait for this fic to be done. I haven't been doing well with fics lately, so this was a struggle. And my mental health started going shit too which is why I stopped posting for so long...

Anyways, I really started to struggle with writing fics, so I ended up experimenting with this one - it's kind of written with huge metaphor kind of style? Hope that's okay with you...

Anyways, hope you'll enjoy reading this at least a little, and I once again apologize.

_

🎙️// The sweet history we share... //🎙️

{Alastor x female!Reader}

___________________________________________

Type: Fanfic

Settings: Not specified

Genre: Unsettling? Can't tell if it actually gives that vibe though,

!TRIGGER WARNING!: Mentions of cannibalism, murder, violence, blood, saliva, dead bodies, Alastor revels in the memory of killing Reader, possible yandere vibes? Alastor sees Reader as nothing but a meal, but he puts her on a pedestal - that's probably some kind of fucked up attachment that surely has a name? I'd say the vibe is quite unsettling, but I can't say that for sure, Angel indirectly suggests the use of drugs and hints at sex related activities (but it's just a single line), and that's probably all?

Sidenote: Reader is written as a female just as requested,

Sidenote: I have no idea if I wrote Alastor well... but it feels like I really made him ooc as fuck and ruined the whole request,

Sidenote: Rereading this I think everyone is ooc as fuck even if they have minimum dialogue,

_

That should be all,

Hope you'll enjoy,

___________________________________________

Ah, nostalgia. Ah that sweet nostalgia. And that embrace of her.

She comes in unannounced, an unexpected guest. But oh is she welcome.

And oh so welcome are those treats she brings to the table.

She easily settles in, making herself at home. And into a cup, a bunch of memories she pours.

And that demon, the radio demon as he's called - he drinks from that cup greedily.

And like a man dying of thirst, he can't help but ask for another cup to be poured.

His senses feel high, his body tingling. A feeling of addiction is what fills him.

And he can't get enough of those sweet memories, so, he downs one cup after the other.

But with each greedy little sip, the thirst only grows and grows - he's not had his fill still.

So, the demon goes on and on, tasting one memory after the other.

And his mouth waters a big deal the more he can taste, and he savours each and every one.

Ah, and he can't tell which one of the sips of memories he enjoys the most, which one is the most saliva inducing one.

Is it maybe the giddy old memory of how he followed you through the town?

With you completely unaware? Naively trusting those poorly enlightened streets?

Trusting that a bit of weak light will keep you safe?

Or perhaps it could be the sweet memory of the thrilling chase through the forest?

That one forest where thousands of dead bodies laid buried deep in the ground?

Those dead bodies in whose footsteps you followed suit?

Oh! And what about that memory of how you so desperately tried to navigate around and hide, escape his clutches?

Even if he could hear your sharp breaths as clear as the day?

Oh! Or maybe his favourite one could be the moment of when he tackled you down?

Pinning your body under his, finally cutting the chase so the real fun can begin?

And that beautiful moment of how you hopelessly dug your nails into his skin til blood trailed down his arms?

That one beautiful moment engraved into his head of how you desperately clawed at those lanky hands of his?

His hands that trailed, squeezed and pinched at your body, feeling you up like a winning prize, like a fine piece of venison?

Ah, it was so hard to pick which one was the most treasured one!

Hell, it could even be the simple memory of the melodious sounds of your cries.

That melodious, angelic sound of your pleading, whimpering, sobbing and screaming.

Especially those sounds you made when he bit down onto your flesh.

Oh, and that taste that hit his taste buds back then...

He still remembers it like it was yesterday.

And his tongue still tingles, and saliva still floods his mouth every time he thinks of just how tasty you were back then.

And now his mouth waters as he silently wonders... would you still have such taste even now?

Or did becoming a demon change the sweet, addictive flavour of your fragile flesh and thick blood?

Oh, how his senses urge him - beg him - to just grab you and take at least one single little bite...

I'd be really easy too, now that you're a part of the hotel staff.

Silly little you, you didn't flee when you were faced with the fact that he - the one who took your life - also works for the hell's princess now.

You didn't take the more than gracious chance to turn on your trail, run and never return while you still could.

No, you are too stubborn, and you insist on staying, even despite how frightening seeing him on the daily is for you.

Silly little you! Don't you realize how easily he could snatch you away and repeat history?

All it would take is a single moment of when you're alone and-

Ah, but he can't do that - at least not yet...

Where would be the fun in that?

It sure would be a shame to end your lovely reunion this fast and early on, no?

Not to mention the odd, messed up attachment the deer demon feels towards you...

Now, not to be mistaken! What he feels isn't the usual attachment one would think of!

It definitely isn't the good or healthy kind either...

So, we shall not be mistaken, let's not get our hopes up and think he cares - for he doesn't.

You mean nothing to him - at least as far as it comes to you as a person.

Your value could be most likely compared to something of a sentimental value, a plaything at best if you will.

Still, no matter what you are to him - you are by far his most favourite one at that.

That's what can be said for a fact.

And for reasons beyond us and even Alastor, those memories he shares with you are put on a pedestal - put way above the rest.

There were so many faces that twisted in fear, so many names he kept tabs on, so many tastes he's tried, and so many lives he's taken.

But very vast portion of them is long forgotten, not really standing out all that much.

Nor holding any real value. Barely any of them mattered...

But you, on the other hand - oh, he could never forget about that one lovely night you shared...

And even when more victims - more faces, more names, more tastes - came, they couldn't compare.

No, they never could.

Those memories of you and your taste were always stuck in the back of the radio demon's head no matter what new person was on the menu - what new dish was on his plate...

So, one can only imagine just what he feels now that you're back within his grasp.

Oh, not even his wildest fantasies could've come up with or prepare him for such sweet moment!

This was like a gift from the Devil himself!

Yes, a gift - one that Alastor would make sure to cherish greatly...

Ah yes, he would cherish you so.

He'd take his time unwrapping you like the perfect little gift that you are - he would savour you.

And only when he'd get tired of messing with you, only then he'd get to the real deal.

Oh, and when he'll finally do, it'll be like a starving man plunging onto bread crumbs!

It'll be such a beautiful, satisfactorily moment - Alastor can almost feel himself drooling at the mere thought of the moment.

Oh, how he just can't wait for the very moment!

The moment is so close, and yet so far - and every little glance your way is like a test.

A test of how long he can resist the temptation.

Every little move you make, every little noise that leaves you, every little expression your face twists into.

Oh, he can barely hold himself back!

His body feels so restless, and his thoughts are all over the place.

And no matter how much he reminds himself to be patient, to not cut straight to the chase just yet.

He still can barely keep himself in check.

His thoughts are going to dangerous places, and your familiar, sweet scent teases his nose.

Oh, and you're so within reach too!

It'd really just take a single little moment and-

"Geez, that perv's still at it?".

Oh, that's right.

He's almost forgotten about those curious eyes watching him from afar.

Watching, and trying to see inside his head...

But judging by the response Vaggie's hateful comment receives, it seems she's the only one to see right through him.

The only one to see the real danger behind that wide smile he always wears...

"Ya-uh! His eyes have not left her ever since she's joined the hotel staff!".

Ah, Charlie. Dear, sweet Charlie - now she's something else.

She's completely different from her girlfriend - she's quite naively trusting and optimistic.

Fully believing that there's a piece of good in everyone.

And hence not being concerned for your safety when the deer demon started to show an interest in you.

Ah, that sweet, silly little thing.

Caught up in trying to see only the best in people and their intentions...

It's amusing - and truly adorable.

And oh, does it play into Alastor's favour oh so well...

"Okay, that's like so sick and totally-".

Oh, Vaggie - she tries, she really tried to warn the others.

Make them see Alastor for what he truly is.

But aside from Husk, nobody really listens to Vaggie's concerns.

No, she's not all that listened to when she voices her opinions on the deer demon.

Not even when she expresses her concerns for how the latter constantly follows your every single step no matter the time of the day, no matter where you go...

And to think she has quite enough of a say in things as the hotel's manager, as well as the princess' girlfriend!

Oh, that poor little thing - it must be such an awful feeling.

How humorous!

And oh, how unfortunate...

"Ah! Do you think he's-?".

Niffty is completely on board with Charlie.

Similarly to the princess - she too doesn't see the real harm in Alastor's advances towards you.

Seeing his behaviour as nothing other than subtle romantic gestures.

The little demoness' version of romance sure is rather twisted...

And yet, it's still quite surprising Niffty doesn't see the harm in things.

After all, she herself knows Alastor just as well as Husk does...

"Yeah! Strawberry pimp totally got the hots for that one!".

Angel was caught up in the spiderweb of romanticizing the same thing as well.

Just like Charlie and Niffty, he couldn't see the truth...

"What? No! Are you all crazy?! That's not the case at all! How can you all not see that?!".

Oh, Vaggie - again and again, she really tries and tries.

But the result is always the same - nobody pays her warnings or concerns any thought.

And yet she still keeps on going.

What a miserable little thing she is.

"Oh my- I have like the best idea!".

Not even Charlie notices how Vaggie nearly begs for them all to see things from her point of view.

None of them can see things for what they really are.

Alastor's got them all right where he wants them.

Without even having to try much...

"We should totally get the two to have some alone time!".

Charlie is quick to naively play into the radio demon's games.

Without even knowing she's doing that.

She can't see this all is exactly what the deer demon wants...

And neither can Angel or Niffty.

Aw, those naive little fools...

"Yes! We should- like- create some really romantic atmosphere and leave them to it!".

Niffty follows through in Charlie's steps.

She too plays right into what Alastor wants.

Though whether or not she's aware of it is up for a debate...

"We should lock 'em up in a closet together or somethin', or even give them a little... somethin'... to just... ya know, set just the right mood in.".

And angel is quick to fall for Alastor's games too...

Ah, those silly fools...

Unaware they're making all this much easier than it should've been.

They're sealing your doom - the inevitable end you're ought to meet at his clutches.

They're making this all too easy...

They're shoving the little mouse right into the lion's den.

What unfortunate silly fools.

And what an unfortunate little you.

Your friends are serving you to him on a silver platter.

All of them - or nearly all of them - thinking they're doing you a favour.

Thinking they're simply helping a mere fool in love gain the heart of his love interest.

When in reality, they're actually helping a starving predator get closer to his chosen prey...

It was rather humorous - a good source of entertainment for sure.

So, Alastor would humour the group.

He'd indulge in their schemes of trying to set you up with him.

He'd gladly play along and lead them to think he's interested in you.

Well, interested in you they way they think he is, not the way he actually is...

No, they can't know what he actually wants from you.

They won't know.

He'll make sure of it.

They won't know until the very last moment, until the deed's already done.

Or, he'll lead them to think your disappearance has nothing to do with him.

After all, the sudden disappearance of a poor little sinner like you would be nothing new in hell.

You'd just be added to the endlessly growing numbers of hell inhabitants going missing.

Your disappearance would be just a part of the mere statistics.

Well, he'll see.

All depends on which option would prove to bring more benefit.

As well as which one would prove to be more entertaining.

That's what, to the deer demon, matters the most at the end of the day.

For now, he'll just go with the flow and let the situation progress by itself.

With the occasional shove to the right direction, of course.

But it doesn't seem like he needs to wait for that long for everything to be set in motion...

"Hey, Al, you got a minute?".

Yeah, he really doesn't need to wait for that long...

___________________________________________

[gallavich-fic-club]

Gallavich Summer Camp - Thank You!

Hi Everyone!

We wanted to take a minute to thank everyone - all of the writers, artists, and betas who made our first fandom event such a huge success! 

This was a different format than most of us are used to for events, but you all rose to the occasion beautifully and made us look good with the amazing content that you have posted over the last 8 days.

Also a special shoutout to our guest star Camp Counselors Macy (@heymacy) , Mechy (@mickittotheman) , and Cherry(@too-schoolforcool) for their amazing lessons - you all added a little something extra to our Summer Camp that was totally unexpected.

From our team to all of you - thank you from the bottoms of our hearts.

With that, the first ever Gallavich Summer Writing Camp has officially come to a close, but we hope you will all be back to participate in more events in the future!

@darlingian @michellemisfit @deedala

@spacerockwriting @rayrayor @deathclassic @runawaybrainsc

@suzy-queued @sam-loves-seb @grumble-fish

@sweetbee78 @poisonedquiver @vintagelacerosette @energievie

@sickness-health-all-that-shit @doshiart

@roryonic @gallapiech

@look-i-love-u @thepupperino @kandyzee @mickwentz

@jademickian @astaraels @spookygingerr @em-harlsnow

@transmurderbug @ian-galagher @creepkinginc

@ms-moonlight-inn @notherenewjersey

@solitarycreaturesthey @sgtmickeyslaughter

@shippergirl121fic @sandrashaine

@batty4steddie @spicycinnabun

@whatthebodygraspsnot @catgrassplantdad @heymrspatel @gallawitchxx

@mickeyheartian @thegallaviches @mickeysgaymom

[songfell-ut]

Songfell anniversary post, pt 1

Eyyy so four years ago today, I posted the first three chapters of my story on AO3, having seen an unfinished comic and gotten permission from the artist to write a fic using her premise. This here is the first piece of Songfell art ever, commission from the OG comic creator, @lostmypotatoes 👌

So! I am not posting any new content for the moment. My mom has been having health problems, including me having to help take her to the ER (she's fine, just needs to stay in bed for a while), which delays actual writings a bit. What I am doing is reposting art from four years of Tumblr! C'mon down memory lane, wheeeeee

(Part 2, Part 3)

This is going to be in VERY VERY approximate chronological order as it depicts stuff in the story. Stuff with no set place in the story will be guesstimated because I have that power ah ha ha ha ha

Disclaimer: I've pulled all of these from posts or reblogs made by this specific blog. If I didn't see or repost any Songfell art you've done, especially for the videos, I did not leave it out on purpose. I threw in exactly one image from Discord for the sake of completing a set, but that was it.

In cases of multiple...okay it's just the fork scene that has multiple iterations because everyone liked it, but besides the opening one here (which is still my AO3 pfp!), the one that was the first piece of non-commissioned art I ever got will be first. Enjoy!

This was the first non-potatoes art in the videos, I believe, done by the superlative @venelona (probably the most prolific of the arts on here), when somebody realizes he's gonna lose 😘

The collection skips ahead to Sans contemplating killing the nice lady and then totally randomly thinking of Kris instead, by @mambourin D: But whaddya know--

See? That's the sound of losing, son

That's the sight of losing, by @sharkowskii, whose work speaks for itself. Here's the whole thing, colored fantastically by Vene.

Know what else they did together, and happens once he's been knocked out?

(Look at this so good holy shit) Frisk's had a bit of a tired, scared cry in the hall, and it's time to face her new guest head-on.

I lost my mind at least a little bit when I first saw these, ngl. I can't find the next page that she did for the compiled "movie" video 😢 But now we're coming up on a fun bit of Songfell lore!

I was scrolling through Tumblr and glanced over what looked like a picture of my Frisk ha ha that was kind of VENELONA DID A THING WAIT WHAT

First ever fanart, that's what. We have a High Priestess who is completely done with his goddamn nonsense, and

Pictured: goddamned nonsense. N-Not like he LIKES you, baka

Aaand here's my Discord pfp, by @xxkoichiixx (who seems not to be on here anymore D:).

And here's a very plausible alternate outcome by @vafro1.

Though this was a bit more like it, thanks to @naomyart.

Oh look a distraction after he was stupid what are the odds (Catler1!)

Last and never least (none of you are >:( so there), puns are dumb and it turns out they're into it. The End...for now

...

Bonus outtake recording illustration from @dale-the-human

[absurdthirst]

Meet Me At Bill's Town {Joel Miller x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 14.5k

Warnings: Post apocalyptic life, mentions of cancer, mentions of dying, open relationships, sex toys, fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, unspoken feelings, death, suicide, loss, grief, oral sex (male receiving), shower sex. No physical description of reader but there is a hair washing scene.

Includes Spoilers for Episode 1x03

Comments: When Bill & Frank take you in to help care for Frank in his declining health, you meet Joel. Making you wish you had what the two men have together with him.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || Joel Miller MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

“Shit!” You’re in a fucking pit. Panic wells up in your throat as you pause to do a mental check on your body. Nothing seems broken, although your wrist is sprained from falling. Why the fuck would FEDRA dig a goddamn pit? And wasn’t the QZ farther into Boston? You could swear that’s what you had heard. Yet you had seen barbed wire fencing and obvious traps for the infected and hurried towards salvation. Now, now you think you’re fucked. Climbing gingerly to your feet, you stare up at the top of the hole warily. “He-hello?” You don’t yell, you don’t know who you might encounter but you don’t want them immediately shooting thinking you’re one of them. “Is anyone up there?”

Bill tentatively approaches the pit, rifle aimed and ready, and he asks who the fuck you are. “I’m just looking for the Boston QZ.” You hold your hands up towards him. 

He narrows his eyes, “you’re a long ways from there. It’s miles away. At least a day of walking. You FEDRA?” He narrows his eyes at your badge. 

“No. No. I’m a nurse.” You announce, “I was told they needed nurses at the Boston QZ. I- I just wanted a new start.” 

Hearing that you’re a nurse has Bill grabbing the ladder. “One move and you’re dead.” He warns, watching you walk up a few steps and he presses the tester he has on his belt against your neck. You barely flinch, used to the device and Bill is relieved when he sees its green. “What’s your name?” He asks and you tell him. “You hungry?” He asks and you snort, “fucking starving.” Bill nods, “good. Frank is just making lunch.” He helps you out and your eyes widen as you make your way through the gates into a town. 

“Holy shit.” You whisper. “It’s a fucking town.” You frown when you don’t see others walking around, but you just assume they are inside the other buildings. “I- What’s your name?” You ask, making him swing around towards you suspiciously but you just hold up your hands. This man is obviously someone who doesn’t trust easily and you understand it given the circumstances. Another couple of steps go by before he finally speaks. 

“Bill.” He tells you, turning back around as he leads you towards one of the larger, more stately homes in the blocked off zone. It’s gorgeous, something you would have dreamed of buying before the world went to hell.

 “Wow.” You murmur, wondering if he had lived here before or just taken over. “You have a beautiful home.” 

“Thanks.” Bill replies, a little awkward as he guides you into his home. 

“Bill?” Frank calls out from the kitchen. 

“We got a guest.” Bill shouts back. “Drop your stuff there.” Bill orders, pointing to the hallway and you drop your pack and follow him into the kitchen, his rifle still in his hand. The food smells delicious and Frank smiles at you when you walk in. 

“You got a live one?” Frank teases and you are instantly at ease with his friendly smile. 

“She’s a nurse.” Bill says, offering Frank a pointed look. 

You frown, noticing the slightly gaunt look in Frank, the tremble in his hand. “He’s sick.” You declare and Bill nods, making Frank sigh. 

“Yeah. I’m - It’s getting worse.” He confesses and you nod, “cancer?” You guess and you hear Bill swallow harshly, a distant look in his eyes. 

“There’s no cure but I’m happy to be here.” Frank says, still moving around and able to live a relatively good life with the pain pills they get in. 

“Right.” You nod, knowing that he’s trying to keep his head high for Bill, there’s clearly something between them. 

“Lunch is ready. Go wash up. Bill, show her the downstairs bathroom.” Frank orders, wanting to change the subject and you let Bill guide you down the hall, his rifle lowered but still in his hand. 

“You have running water?” You ask in awe and Bill nods, “hot too.” You practically choke on your surprise.

“Fuck, a hot shower.” You practically moan it and look back towards Bill searchingly. “I- I can be done in five minutes?” You offer, knowing that you won’t have clean clothes to put on, but you would love the opportunity to get clean for the first time in forever. 

Bill sighs but nods. “Yeah.” He agrees, rolling his eyes because he knows Frank will chastise him if he isn’t a ‘gracious host’. As if you were here for a scheduled visit. “I can find you some clothes to wear.” The bedroom is now Bill and Franks, since it’s easier to get him into bed here rather than carrying him up the stairs on his bad days. “I’ll put them on the bed.” Once he’s said that, he’s turning and fleeing down the hall to talk to Frank, leaving you in the room to strip down and get in the shower. 

“Hey sweetheart.” Frank greets Bill when he comes into the kitchen, that damn rifle still in hand. 

“She’s a nurse, Frank. She can help you.” Bill says to Frank, “unless she’s lying but you could have a chance.” 

Frank sighs, turning towards Bill to place his hands on his chest. “I’m dying, Bill. We gotta accept that. There was no cure for this shit before and now…I can’t even get an MRI. She can help monitor me but what else can she do? I- I like her. Might be nice to have a woman around the house, someone else to talk to. I love you but it’s been twenty years…we have run out of topics.” Frank teases Bill who rolls his eyes.

You try to keep to your word. Moaning under the hot spray of the water, you close your eyes while dirt and filth swirls down the drain. Wondering how the hell they got so lucky, how they’ve kept this place safe. You scrub every inch of your skin and even your hair, though it will be a mess to dry. Being clean is more important right now. When you come out, there are clean clothes on the bed, folded neatly. An oversized pair of sweats and a t-shirt, obviously men’s but they are clean and you quickly dress before wrapping your head in the towel and opening the door to find them. 

Frank has the best china on the table and Bill is rolling his eyes as he waits for you to appear. When you do, looking a bit cleaner, he keeps his gun in hand as he gestures for you to sit down. “You did this with Joel and look how that turned out. Put the gun away.” Frank rolls his eyes as he brings in the lunch. 

Your eyes widen when you see chicken. You don’t remember the last time you had chicken. “What the hell is this place?” You ask, eyes wide and it’s like heaven.

“Our home.” Bill grumbles, watching you as you bite your lip and barely resist the urge to tear into the plate the moment it’s set in front of you. “I could have served it.” He huffs to Frank but the other man just turns and tuts at him. 

“I am still doing things as I am able.” He tells his partner before he smiles at you. “I’m afraid we don’t have any chardonnay but I do have a good Pinot Noir that will be delicious with it.” He turns to Bill. “Go get the bottle of Pinot.” He orders, making Bill sigh and pick up his gun to bring with him into the kitchen to get the bottle of wine. 

“I can’t believe you have wine at all.” You murmur in amazement. 

Frank smiles at you, remembering the first time he came here and Bill served him rabbit and Beaujolais. Man has always known how to serve wine. “We have been extremely lucky. Bill was a prepper and knew what to do when shit hit the fan. He took me in twenty years ago and I’ve been here ever since.” You sense there’s a relationship there but you don’t know to what extent. 

“That’s amazing.” You say with sincerity. Frank was lucky to have found Bill and you know it’s going to be hard to leave here about a glass of wine. Bill comes back in with the bottle, eyes still wary of you and he expertly pours you a glass. 

“To new friends.” Frank toasts when you all have a glass. Bill meets you gaze as you hold your glass up towards him and take a sip.

“So Frank,” you turn to the obviously younger man and smile softly. “When did you feel the change in your appetite or your health?” You want to give him as much care as you possibly can since they have let you clean up and are feeding you such a wonderful meal. 

“It was about a year ago.” Frank admits, glancing over at where Bill squirms in his seat. “He doesn’t like to talk about it, but I have days where it’s hard to stand, to walk. But today is a good day.”

Bill sighs, “we talked. We, uh, we want you to stay here. I need help with Frank, I need your knowledge to help care for him.” Bill says and you can tell that it’s hard for him to admit. Frank shakes his head, reaching for Bill’s hand. 

“You want me to stay…” You process the incredible news until your cynicism catches up. “What else do you want? You want me to fuck you both?” You have had plenty of offers to be taken care of in exchange for your body. You haven’t allowed anyone to take advantage of you like that and you’ll be damned if you let them just because they live in a Mecca. 

“Oh honey, no. We only fuck each other.” Frank smirks and Bill blushes, ducking his head and you chuckle. 

“Okay. Well, I want to stay. I do. I want to help you.” You tell them, knowing that you’d be a fool to leave this place.

****

Staying with Bill and Frankie was how you met them. Joel and Tess. They were a unit, maybe a couple. You couldn’t tell. Coming at arranged times to meet and trade goods, pass information. They had been shocked to see you there, but you had understood. It was unusual to see someone else with the couple, but your job of helping to take care of Frank was important. They had brought you some medications that you wanted to help ease his pain, offer some relief and hopefully extend his quality of life for a few years. 

You can’t deny the attraction to Joel, even though you know it wouldn’t happen. He’s hot though and it’s been a long time since you’ve seen a man who isn’t in a long term relationship with the only other man around. Their commitment to each other was sweet and complete. It didn’t help that you often found Joel staring at you while they were here, trying to figure out where you fit.

One day, Joel arrives alone, and you immediately ask where Tess is. "She had shit to deal with." He declares without further explanation. You know Joel isn't one for lengthy conversations. He is a man of few words but those words are concrete. He is similar to Bill, focused on surviving and he will kill anyone who dares to take what belongs to him. You help Frank prepare the lunch, his hands shaking a little more nowadays, and Bill shows Joel the new stuff he managed to find. Joel has more pain pills and information to exchange. 

"Joel came alone." Frank says softly and you focus on peeling the potato. 

"And?" You retort, making Frank snort. 

"We both know how you feel about him." You sigh, setting the peeler down, "and we both know he doesn't feel the same way." Frank doesn't respond to that, deciding to offer a hum as a reply that has your heart sinking. Joel is with Tess, he loves Tess. He lives in the QZ with Tess. It would never happen, no matter how many times you imagine it late at night. "Lunch is ready!" You call out eventually, the salad is washed and plated up along with the dressing you made with the oil Bill pressed a few months ago.

Joel shakes his head when he sits down at the table. “You constantly surprise me.” He tells Frank and sends you a small smirk. “You too.” He adds before nodding at Bill. 

The two men understood one another but the lightness of the relationship came from Tess and Frank. You were a new addition and interesting to him. Tess’s words echo in his head. ‘I don’t care if you fuck her, Joel. Do what you want. Just don’t get her pregnant. That’s the last thing we need.’ He picks up his fork and spears a potato. “What do you guys need?” He asks, looking around the table. There are always things that he can get in the QZ for you or he would scout it out if he had to, it was worth the items that he could get from Bill or just the fact that he has a person he could count on if shit hit the fan again. 

"Well, she needs a sex toy so see if you can find a dildo or vibrator around the QZ. Still in packaging, of course." Frank says and you choke on the Chardonnay. 

"Jesus, Frank. Gonna kill the poor girl." Bill shakes his head and Frank shrugs, "what? She hasn't been laid since before she got here. It's been months for her and she ain't gonna get it from us." Frank argues with Bill and your jaw drops, unable to even look at Joel.

“Oh my God.” Your cheeks feel like the surface of the sun but you hear a raspy, rough chuckle. Unable to even see if it was Joel, although you think it was. “I’m fine.” You insist but Frank tuts. 

“By hand is never fun.” He insists, well aware that he is poking you, and Joel, if he would admit it. You need to get laid and he feels like Joel would fuck you right. 

Joel smirks at your mortified expression and how you refuse to look at him. “I’ll see what I can find. Any preference?” He asks, cock twitching in his jeans. “Size, hole?”

Frank decides to push it even further, looking at Joel while you stare at the table cloth. "Whatever you think is closest to yours." 

You want the earth to open up and swallow your whole. "I, uh, I forgot the, um, salt and pepper." You lie and sprint into the kitchen to get away from the men around the table. 

"Jesus Christ, Frank." Bill shakes his head at his partner, unable to believe he had come out and said that.

“What? I’m sure he’s got a nice sized dick. Tess seems impressed.” Joel’s brows are up and he is watching the doorway that you disappeared through. It’s obvious Frank knows something that he doesn’t, but it’s easy enough to guess. He grunts and looks back down at his own plate. 

“Sure thing.” He answers, before he takes another bite of his food. He won’t seek you out now, knowing you will be too embarrassed to talk to him. He’ll wait until later and then have the conversation that is apparently due. 

You finally gather the nerve to head back into the dining room. “It, uh, salt and pepper was already on the table.” You mumble, unable to meet Joel’s eyes as the three men watch you sit down. Your cheeks burn still and your stomach twists, hating how your crush has been revealed like that. Still, Frank was just trying to help you out in his own way. 

“I was thinking we could try some watercolors later.” Frank says, taking pity on you. 

“Oh, uh, yeah. We can do that. Sick of the oils?” You tease, knowing you’ve nearly run out but you have been painting with Frank in the afternoons to help his tremors. 

“Absolutely.” Frank playfully rolls his eyes and Joel frowns, confused until Bill explains. 

“Frank wanted to learn how to paint and this one here used to be an artist while juggling nursing school so she knows her shit. I get the supplies and we are nearly out of oils.” Bill explains to Joel who is nearly finished with his food.

“Nice.” Joel makes note of that, thinking he can see about finding some more oil paints when he is scavenging. It’s not like art supplies are an in demand item. He finishes up his food and wipes his mouth, leaning back. “Frank, Bill, it was delicious like always.” He compliments, wondering if you will ever look at him again as you stare down at your plate. 

“Thank you, Joel.” Frankie smiles and tilts his head at him. “Why couldn’t Tess come?” He asks, sure that she would come this time again. “You never said what she was busy with.” 

Joel shrugs, “she met some guy who came from the Baltimore QZ. Been traveling for years to find somewhere and she, uh, hit it off with him. Decided to stay behind and I didn’t wanna third wheel.” He admits, looking at you but you avoid his gaze. Tess was with another man? That makes you frown but you don’t say anything, wondering how Joel feels about that. 

Thankfully, Frank never beats around the bush. “And he’s her friend? Or is it…?” He trails off, wanting Joel to explain.

“As in, I wasn’t going to watch them fuck, or get into bed with them.” Joel shrugs and reaches for his wine glass. “We don’t own each other.” He takes a sip and sets the glass down. “We’re together when we are, we do what we want when we aren’t.” It wouldn’t make sense in the pre-Outbreak world, but that time no longer exists and it doesn’t matter anymore. He wasn’t going to stop Tess from grasping what little happiness she could because Joel couldn’t fully commit. Not completely. Both of them knew it and she understood better than anyone else. His eyes meet yours briefly before he looks back at Frank. “Any other questions?” 

Frank shakes his head, smirking at the directness of Joel, so similar to Bill. Gruff and deadly but the right person could mellow them. “No. That’s all.” Frank replies demurely and you try to not act like your ears pricked up. Tess and Joel were lovers but not committed. Pre-Outbreak you would’ve avoided getting in the middle of that like the plague, but a fucking plague has happened and Joel is your only current option to feel something other than your own touch. 

“I’ll clean up the dishes.” You offer, standing up to grab your plate, taking Bill and Frank’s and Joel hands his to you, fingers brushing yours and you hate how good it felt, just that simple touch.

“You should help, Joel.” Frank hums, making Bill sigh softly at his lover’s meddling. “Bill.” Frank hisses and nods towards the door. 

“What- oh, uh, yeah.” Bill chimes in reluctantly. “You ate a free meal. Clean up, you mooch.” He grumbles at Joel, socially awkward as usual but it’s enough to make Joel smirk and shake his head. 

“Alright.” He huffs, getting to his feet and grabbing the wine glasses to bring into the kitchen.

You turn to see Joel carrying the wine glasses into the kitchen and you focus on washing off the plates. “I, uh, I’m sorry about Frank. He worries about me. Thinks I need someone like Bill to look after me but I’m a big girl, I can take care of myself. Survived before I arrived here.” You justify yourself and Joel leans over you to place the wine glass in the sink. His body nearly pressed against you but you can feel the heat of his form, his breath ghosting along your neck as he exhales.

“So you don’t want me to find you a toy that’s the size of my dick?” He asks, amused and completely aware that you’ve frozen with a plate in your hand. “Or that I shouldn’t think about making you scream loud enough to annoy Bill and make Frank clap when I come downstairs tomorrow?” He was spending the night, taking his time to go back to the QZ so that he didn’t travel at night. “Because that would be….disappointing.” 

You inhale sharply, his words making your cunt clench and your entire body nearly vibrates with the need for him to follow through on his words. He’s made his desires clear, now it’s time for you to do the same. You spin around, pressing yourself against him and he instinctively pushes you back against the sink. “What if I want both? The toy for when you’re not here and tonight so I can remember how you felt inside me while I screamed your name?” You challenge him with your head tilted towards his, daring him to do what you’ve dreamed of for so damn long.

Joel smirks, his hands finding your waist as he leans in. Pressing his lips to yours in a rough combination of need and frustration boiling over. He’s wanted you, of fucking course he has. He’s just never acted on it since Tess was with him and even if it was okay, he hadn’t felt right about it. Guilty. Right now he’s not thinking about feeling guilty or Tess as his tongue slides into your mouth as soon as you open up for him with a small moan. Tasting the chicken along with the spices it had been cooked in and the wine it was served with from your tongue. Hands squeezing your hips before he slides them around to cup your ass and pull you against him and his hardening cock. 

You gasp into his mouth, reaching up to tangle your fingers in his hair like you’ve imagined so many times. You tug on the salt and pepper locks and he groans into your mouth, tongue exploring while his fingers knead your ass. “Upstairs.” You manage to mumble into his mouth, not wanting Bill and Frank to walk in on you fucking Joel in the kitchen. You’re on the precipice of it and if you don’t move now, you’ll let him have you anywhere he wants.

“I need-” He breaks off to kiss you again. “Fuck, I need to clean up.” He’s grimy, sweaty. The shower he had been planning on lingering in is a necessity but he will run through it as fast as possible. Pulling away, he pants slightly. “I’m gonna get in the shower.” He tells you roughly, eyes dark. “I want you naked when I get out.” 

You nod, knowing he will want to clean up and you wouldn’t mind a moment to prepare yourself either. “Go shower. I’ll be waiting on my bed for you.” You kiss his jaw, dishes abandoned as you spin out of his arms, offering him a wink before you sprint upstairs to get ready for him. You’ve waited months for this. You strip down and clean up in your bathroom, grabbing the bottle of perfume Frank had gifted you for your birthday and you spritz it on, checking your hair and grabbing some lip balm Bill had made from the beeswax for you. You exhale shakily once you’re ready, struggling to find the right position to lay on the bed while you wait for Joel to shower.

In the shower, Joel exhales slowly. The thing with Tess is comfortable, easy, because she knows the darkest parts of him, she’s participated in some of them. There’s no need to talk about it, about the past. You’re different. You still have a sense of hope that hasn’t been beaten down. He focuses on washing himself, his cock hardening as he wraps his soapy fist around it and makes sure that he's clean. Wanting to make sure you don’t regret this. 

When the door to your room opens, you inhale shakily, crossing your ankles as you lean back against your pillows, naked and wet with anticipation waiting for Joel. He walks in, hair wet and slicked back, and a towel wrapped around his waist, tented with his arousal and you swear you’ve died and gone to heaven then and there. Scars are scattered on his skin from near misses, the one on his hand hidden as he clenches his fist when his dark eyes settle on you after he shuts the door behind him.

His eyes drink in the sight of your naked body and he exhales roughly. “Bill and Frank don’t have any condoms, do they?” Joel jokes, knowing that they don’t but it’s going to be hard to keep from busting too soon once he slides inside you. 

“I don’t think so.” You frown slightly and he nod.. 

“Spread your legs.” He orders. “I want to see you cunt.” 

You obey, unable to deny this man anything he wants. Your heart pounds in your chest and you grip the sheets beneath you as you spread your legs to display your already wet cunt to his dark gaze. The towel is barely hanging around his waist when his cock hardens even more and you desperately want to rip it off of him.

“Shit.” He hisses, shaking his head as he steps closer. “Fucking pretty cunt.” His fingers reach out to stroke your ankle. “When was the last time you were fucked?” He wants to know so he doesn’t hurt you if it’s been awhile. He’s rough but he wants to make it good for you. “Really fucked and not just your fingers buried in your pretty cunt?”

“About six months before I arrived here. I- I had a friend I was traveling with and we would - it had benefits but he got infected. I had to kill him.” You explain, lost in the memory for a moment but you know Joel understands. “It’s been a long time.” You confess breathily, enjoying his fingers caressing your calf and back down to your ankle.

Joel hums, nodding his understanding and he moves to kneel on the bed. His towel opens, breaking the tuck at the waist and falls off of him. Leaving his body exposed and his cock bobs as he climbs on the bed with you. “Then I need to make sure you cum on my fingers first.” He decides, sliding his hand higher and squeezing your thigh. “You want that? My fingers curled up in your cunt while I suck on your tits?” 

You nod, a little speechless from how fucking big his cock is. He’s long and you know enough that it’s going to punch you in the guts with each thrust. You whimper when his fingers explore higher, “please Joel. I need you. Anyway you want. I’m yours.” You promise him, knowing that might scare him away but you hope he understands that you mean in body, not necessarily heart and soul.

It’s been a long time since he’s touched someone who wasn’t Tess. Thought about it, but never actually pulled the trigger. Too used to the familiarity he supposes. But right now, he wants to touch you. Groaning quietly as he slides his hand between your thighs and flips his wrist around, coming to hover over you and kisses your lips while he pushes one, then two fingers inside your cunt.  

His fingers are already better than yours, thicker and stretching you out, he curls them within a couple of pumps and you moan into his mouth when his thumb presses against your clit. “Fuck baby. That - keep doing that.” You sigh, closing your eyes and you reach up to caress his shoulders, strong and wide from carrying the world on them. You want him to relax, caressing his upper arms and kissing his jaw while he works his fingers inside of you.

It’s probably the laziest he’s been in bed for a long time. Or at least, the most sober. He groans, ducking his head down and wrapping his lips around one of your nipples to bite down on the tip before sucking on it. He loves you moans, your whimpers and the little gasp you gave when he bit you, making him do it again. 

He’s everywhere and nowhere, it’s enough and yet you want more. His fingers scissor inside of you whine he bites on your nipple and you are whining his name, loud enough that Bill and Frank would hear if they were directly downstairs. “Fuck Joel.” You want to touch him so you slide your hands down his chest, wrapping your fingers around his cock.

Joel hisses against your tit, hips rocking forward at the sensation of your hand around him. “Fuck.” His fingers curl up, pumping into your cunt harder. Determined to open you up so he can fuck you and he needs to be inside you now. “Oh fuck, baby, you want my cock inside you, don’t you?” He groans when he feels your walls fluttering around his fingers like you are going to cum. “Want me to fuck you?” 

You whine, words escaping you for a moment until they come back and you are squeezing his cock in your grip. “Yes. Yes. Wanted it for so long. Imagined it so many times. Please Joel. Fuck me. I- oh shit. Shit.” You choke on your own breath as you cum, clamping down around his fingers and you soak his digits with the first orgasm you’ve had by someone else in forever.

He groans as he works you through it, cock throbbing and leaking against your thigh as he pumps fingers in and out of you furiously. Pulling off your breast to crush his lips to yours when you cry out his name one last time before you slump back to the bed, panting. “Good girl.” He moans, pulling his fingers out and shuffling to his knees so he can wrap his hand around his cock and smear your cum on it. “Are you ready?” 

“I’ve been ready since the moment I met you.” You confess, looking up at him in awe and your heart pounds in your chest while you admire his face. “Fuck me, Joel.” You demand.

That is all he needs to hear. Edging closer, Joel takes a second to swipe the head of his cock through your folds and nudges it with your clit. Smirking when you while and roll your hips down. “Gotta wait.” He teases, sliding down to your entrance and positioning himself before he rocks forward and pushes inside just a bare inch. Enough that the head slides inside you before he is covering your body with his and rolling his hips to slowly fill you. 

“Oh God.” You pant, head tilted back into the pillow as his cock pushes deep and stretches you out. “Oh God. Joel. Fuck.” You pant, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer, your tits pressed against his chest and you kiss his neck and jaw.

Joel moans out your name, closing his eyes at the hot, tight glove of your cunt around him. “Shit, just - just give me a second.” He pants out, dropping down to his elbow and clenching his fist as he tries to keep from wrecking you right now. You need a second and if he moves too quickly, it’s going to be over.

“Take your time.” You hum, enjoying how he feels inside of you and you stroke his back, feeling how tense he is while he allows you time to adjust to his cock. “You feel so damn good.” You sigh, the sting of the stretch subsiding.

Joel groans, unable to keep still any longer. “Hold onto me.” He grunts out, pulling his hips back as he watches you, smirking slightly before he slams back into your tight cunt to start a breathtaking pace. 

“Oh fuck!” You yelp, unable to believe how fucking deep he hits when his hips slam against your ass after you wrap your legs around his hips. “Oh my God.” You choke when he begins to fuck you, hard and fast, stealing your breath away with every punch into your guts.

“Fuck.” He hisses, the muscles in his arms straining and bulging as he holds himself up so that he can fuck you. Immediately the bed starts hitting the wall at the same pace that his hips drive down, filling you up. “Fuck- fuck, you- you’re so t-tight.” He groans, loving how you’re taking him and clawing at his back for more.

The headboard is hitting the wall and you would be mortified to know that Frank is waggling his eyebrows at Bill while Bill shakes his head, but you feel too good to care. Joel keeps the pace steady and you gasp in response every time he pushes deep. “So- so good. You’re so big. Feels like - fuck- like you’re in my goddamn stomach.” You pant, struggling to keep your eyes open so you can see the way his jaw clenches and his muscles tense and flex under the strain.

Joel growls, ramping up his pace to fuck you even faster. The praise just makes him want to go harder. Especially because every time he punches deep your nails bite into his shoulder and he likes the pain. This pain is acceptable, he loves it. Joel leans down and bites your bottom lip sharply before he slides his tongue into your mouth, grunting into you with every thrust.

You cling to him, rocking your hips up to meet his thrusts and when he grabs your leg and pushes it back into your stomach, you’re sent over the edge. “Oh fuck. Oh fuckkkkk.” You squeal, clamping down on his cock and you soak him with your cum while your fingers dig into his shoulders, your head pressing back into the pillow as he pushes you into the best orgasm you’ve had in years.

Joel slows his pace down, rocking his hips slowly as he works you through it, amazed how you just soaked him. “Shit.” He pulls out of you and grabs your hips to flip you over onto your stomach. “Gonna fuck you even harder now.” He promises, pushing back inside you again with a groan. “Fuck you’re so fucking wet right now.” 

“Oh fuck, Joel. Baby. Oh my fucking God.” You rock back onto his cock, head dropping between your shoulders as he continues the same pace. His cock pushes even deeper in this position and his hips slam against your ass. Pushing you up the bed, you have to reach out and wrap your fingers around the slates in the headboard to steady yourself.

“That’s it.” Joel hisses, gritting his teeth and digging his fingers into your hips to hold onto you as tight as he can as he drives into you again and again. “Fuck, want- rub- rub your-” He cuts himself off with a groan, wanting you to cum again before he does. “Fuuuuuuuck.” 

You follow his orders, letting go of the headboard to push your hand under you, the angle is awkward but you manage to rub your clit. "Shit. Keep going. Right there. Right there!" You shriek when Joel hits the right spot inside of you. Your hand aches a little but you push yourself over the edge, clamping down on his cock for the second time.

“Shit.” Joel barely rocks into you once more before he’s losing control. Pulling his hips back and ripping free of your spasming cunt. Barely wrapping his hand around his cock before he’s cumming. Shooting ropes of cum onto your ass and up your back as he groans out your name, pouring himself out in shuddering spasms of pleasure. 

You pant, trying to catch your breath, and you rest your head on the pillow beneath you. “That was - that was better than I imagined it and I have imagined it a lot.” You admit breathlessly, smiling into the sheets as Joel’s cum starts to cool on your skin.

Joel grunts, barely able to catch his breath as he shuffles off the bed to grab his towel to wipe up his cum off your back. “Glad that I didn’t disappoint.” He chuckles as he cleans off your skin and rolls up the towel to throw it on the floor. His shit needed to get washed and he would throw it in there with it. He comes back over and nudges you over to get into the bed beside you. 

You shift, letting him lay down on the bed beside you and you shift to snuggle into his side. You feel him tense so you kiss his chest and move slowly to get away from him but he wraps his arm around you and pulls you into his side. “I’d kill for a smoke right now.” You confess and he chuckles, “can get you some.” You shake your head at the offer, “cancer sticks. Not worth it when I’ve made it this far in this shitty existence. Thank God I found Bill and Frank. Mind you, I was heading to the Boston QZ. Reckon we would’ve met if I had gotten there?”

“Probably not.” Joel answers honestly. “You would be…put in a different zone.” His fingers start to trail up and down your arm and he frowns up at the ceiling. “You’re pretty, gorgeous. You wouldn’t be put to work in the broken down sections of the city. You would be up in the better kept areas. One of the leaders ‘nurses’ or some shit.” He scoffs. “You’d only treat their stuffy noses and hangovers.” 

“Maybe I would’ve treated you after you came back hurt. You never know. They might’ve assigned me to a different zone.” You trace one of the scars on his chest. “Mind you…you’ve had Tess to nurse you back to health.” You murmur, remembering the woman he shares the majority of his life with. You can’t be jealous, you can’t compete with her so you don’t try to. You know what this is between you and Joel.

“Tess nurses herself.” Joel snorts. “Poorly.” He finds a scar on the back of your shoulder blade and he traces it lightly with a finger. “I’m the one patching shit up, so it would be nice to be nursed for once.” He smirks and looks down at you with a raised brow. “You kiss boo boos to make them feel better too?” 

"Only when my patient is sexy." You retort with your own smirk and his chuckle makes your stomach twist. 

"Sexy." Joel scoffs, "I'm old now." He shakes his head, not knowing when that happened. 

He sighs and you frown, sitting up slightly so you can look at him, "don't be ridiculous. You're sexy now." You can't believe he doesn't think he's hot.

He rolls his eyes at you, pulling you close. “And your eyesight is going.” He huffs, unable to resist kissing you one more time. 

“You are.” You insist. 

“Okay, okay, I’m old sexy, how about that?” He jokes, enjoying the way you sputter at him. It is lighthearted and he likes that. 

You hum in contentment, "I'll take it." He chuckles and you kiss his chest, "you want something to drink? Bill has a bottle of Jack he hides that he doesn't think I know about. I'll go get it." You peck him lips and shift to get out of bed. 

"Stay here. Tell me where it is and I'll get it." He insists and you nod, telling him where the bottle is hidden. He grabs the robe off of the back of your door and you giggle when it hits him on the upper thigh. He grumps at you, shaking his head, and you smirk, watching him sneak out of your room. He makes his way downstairs, cautious of Bill and Frank hanging around, and he opens the linen closet to find the bottle when he hears a throat clear. 

He turns to see Frank standing there, a cheeky grin on his face, "you fuck her good?"

Joel straightens up, knowing he looks ridiculous in the robe with nothing else underneath. “What do you think?” He asks. “You heard it.” 

Frankie hums, nodding at that obvious statement. “Sure did. Lot of “oh fucks” scattered through the banging of the headboard.” His grin drops for a moment and he levels a serious look at Joel. “Don’t hurt her, she’s a good girl.” He warns Joel and nods towards the closet. “It’s in the shoebox on the right.” He tells him before he turns around to slowly walk away and leaves Joel to stare after him for a moment, pondering his words.

When Joel returns with the whiskey, you are still naked and looking out of the window to the greenhouse you've been working on with Bill to grow some oranges. Boston isn't known for its hot weather during the winter months so you've been nurturing them. "Oh good, you found it." You smile, walking over to him and you take the bottle from his hand, taking a swig. "It's the good stuff." You tell him, handing it back to him.

“The good stuff huh?” Joel shakes his head and takes a swig of the liquor. “It seems like that’s all Bill and Frank have.” It’s always amazed him that the two men’s lives had improved through all of this in a major way. Finding love; real, deep love. He could see it in the way they treated each other. “They are lucky.”

"They are. They found something that seems to be destroyed in this new world: love. It's beautiful to watch, even if Bill is a miserable bastard, he shows Frank his love in so many ways." You sigh, sitting down on the bed, "it's why I'm here. Bill kept me here to look after Frank, otherwise he probably would've killed me."

“He would kill me too.” Joel huffs. “Although the first time we came here, I thought he was going to kill Frank.” He jokes. “He invited us without telling Bill until it was too late.”

"Shit. Frank was testing the limits there." You giggle, shifting to lay down against the pillows. "You've exhausted me, Miller. Come take a nap. Bill said about cooking rabbit tonight so he will help with dinner." You sigh, shifting to grab the blanket from the foot of the bed.

Joel sets down the bottle after taking another swing of it, knowing that he should put his clothes back on, but he can’t resist the lure of laying next to you for a bit. Climbing into bed with you and pulling you into his arms, Joel closes his eyes and tries not to react when you snuggle against him again. He’s not good at this. 

****

Joel leaves the next morning after spending the night in your bed. Another round of sex and an awkward dinner where Bill refused to meet anyone’s eyes and Frank couldn’t stop smirking and waggling his eyebrows. Joel just winked at you and carried on eating the rabbit. After dinner, he fucked you again and left you passed out in your bed this morning. When you wake up, you expect him to be there but the spot he fell asleep in is empty and so is the feeling in your stomach. He didn’t even say goodbye. You can’t be mad, you’re lucky you got to have him for a day, but you want more. Now you’ve experienced him, you want more of him and you know that’s not fair to ask. With a sigh, you shift out of bed and get ready for the day, the ache between your legs the only reminder of Joel Miller.

“Why the fuck are you doing this, Miller?” Joel gripes to himself, eyes swiveling around as he cautiously approaches the building. He had thought about this place when Frank’s request had been mentioned and figured he could scope it out before he went back to the QZ. “A fucking toy.” He slowly approaches the building and opens the shattered glass door, listening for anything moving inside. The neon lights of the adult store are long since dead and the dusty racks aren’t pillaged, his theory of no one needing a fucking dildo at the end of the world was accurate. Although he could probably sell them in the QZ. The light from his bag shines on the displays and he shakes his head, grunting to himself as he looks at shape and size with a more critical eye than he looks at his own dick. Finally finding one that would meet the criteria and pulling it off the hanging rack and shoving it in his bag. You better appreciate this, even though Joel’s cock twitches at the idea of using it on you himself.

****

When Joel arrives back at Bill and Frank’s you’re surprised. Hearing the gate open and close, you hear Bill call out that Joel is back and you try to control yourself, inhaling deeply. Frank, who just happens to be beside you, chuckles and lowers his paint brush. “Go say hello.” He orders and you nod, knowing you have paint on your jeans but you don’t care as you open the front door to see Joel standing there. 

“Back so soon?” You greet him with a teasing smile.

Joel snorts and tilts his head. “Bill didn’t tell you I would be back?” He asks, not surprised that the old bastard didn’t. He swings his back around and taps the zipper. “I’ve got something here that you - well Frank - wanted.” He chuckles, smirking at you. “I think it’s the size of my dick, but I’ll let you be the judge.”

Your eyes widen, “you got it?” You don’t know why you doubted him, he can source nearly everything, but you didn’t think sex toys would be a common commodity. You glance behind you, “Bill and Frank are both busy. Come upstairs. I wanna see it and compare.” You reach for his hand to practically drag him into the house and up the stairs to your bedroom.

Joel chuckles and follows you. “Packaging is dirty, and I’d clean it first, but yeah.” He hears Bill and Frank murmuring downstairs but ignores it to follow you into your room. “Strip down.” He tells you. “I’ll go wash it.” His cock is already hardening in his jeans and he wants to see how you look with your cunt lips stretched around it, carrying that image with him when he goes back to Boston.

You moan softly to yourself as he walks into the bathroom, “scissors are in the drawer.” You tell him and you eagerly strip off, paint stained jeans pushed into the corner, and you lay down on the bed just like you did the first time he touched you. When he comes back into the room, the toy in hand, you shift onto your knees. “Strip down. I wanna compare.” You tease, reaching for the buttons on his shirt while he holds the toy.

Joel snorts but he does as you ask. Setting the toy down and quickly shedding his clothes. He’s not fully hard so he spits in his hand and stands in front of you, pumping himself until he is straining, aching with need as he stares at you. “Compare, sweetheart.” He smirks at you and his cock twitches when he lets go of it, bobbing heavily in the air.

You grab the dildo, holding it beside his cock and you hum, admiring the closeness in girth and length. He had done a good job. “Hmmm, you have more veins and ridges but it’s close enough to keep me satisfied while I remember how good your cock felt inside of me.” You decide, leaning in to wrap your lips around the head of his cock, wanting to hear him moan your name.

Joel groans, fingers grabbing the back of your head and your name comes out in a breathless pant. Blow jobs are not expected or received very often and the feel of your mouth has him making a low sound in the depths of his chest as he tries to keep from rocking his hips. “Fuck, you- it’s so- fuck.” He pants, closing his eyes as your tongue swipes over the head. “Oh fuck. You- the toy.” He grunts out. “Want it inside you while you- fuck, put it in.”

You were wet as soon as you saw Joel standing on the porch. He has this ability to get you going with a look in his eye and you moan around his cock. Blindly reaching for the toy, you position it between your legs and push it in, eyes closing in bliss at the way it stretches you. “Fuck baby.” You pant, the head of his cock brushing your lips.

There’s something filthy about the way that he has his cock in your mouth while you are working a toy into your cunt. Making him groan as he watches it push deeper. “Fuck, you’re gonna use it everyday, aren’t you?” He grunts. “Remembering how I fucked you? Wishing I was fucking you again?”

You pull off of his cock for a second, pumping him and using your other hand to push the toy inside of you fully, stretched out and loving how deep it is inside of you. “Every day.” You promise, “gonna use it every day and think of you inside of me.” You take him back into your mouth, sliding your hand down to roll his balls in your fingers.

Joel chokes out your name, his hips rucking forward hard enough to make you gag but you don’t pull off of him. Making him groan again as he starts to fuck your throat, watching as you bounce on the dildo where it is pressed up inside you on the bed. “Fuck- fuck, gonna think about this.” He admits breathlessly. “Gonna jerk off thinking about you fucking yourself with it.”

The thought of him using this to get off has you moaning his name, muffled around his cock as you let him fuck your throat. You rock your hips as much as you can to try and make yourself cum on the toy. Every moan that escapes Joel’s lips sends you closer to your orgasm.

Groaning, he loves the way your moans vibrate up his shaft. Making him shudder slightly and rock his hips a little faster. “So good.” He pants, watching you take his cock down your throat, “so fucking good. Want you to think about this too.”

You hum in agreement around his cock, knowing you will think about this. How he tastes, how he smells, how he feels. It’s almost overwhelming. Especially when he pushes deeper down your throat and you breathe harshly through your nose. You want Joel to leave here satisfied, you want him to want to come back to you.

It only takes another minute with your talented mouth around him. Gripping the back of your head, Joel moans your name, cock spurting down your throat as he cums. Cursing as he rides out his high and watches you swallow his cum, drops of it escaping down the sides of your mouth when you can’t take it all. 

You try to swallow as much as you can, loving the feel of his cock in your throat when it’s been so long since you’ve had this kind of intimacy. You work him through it, pulling off of him to lick the head, cleaning him up, and you lick your lips to gather up the drops that escaped, your cunt clenching around the toy inside of you and you need to cum. “Fuck.” You whine, shifting to lay on your back, grabbing the toy to push it back inside of you.

Joel pushes you back into the bed, making you lay down and he’s stretching out beside. Pulling your leg up on his hip before he bats your hand away. Taking the toy himself as he starts to work it in and out of your cunt. “Grab your tits, baby.” He grunts. “Want to see you cum.”

“Oh shit.” You whine when he pushes the toy deep inside of you. You follow his order, cupping your tits, and you cry out when he twists it. “I’m gonna - Joel. Fuck. Gonna make me - oh fuck. Oh fuck. Yes. Yes. Yesssss.” You hiss, pinching your nipples as you fall apart on the toy, soaking it and clamping down around the silicone.

Joel watches you, loving the gasps and sobs of pleasure as you work through your orgasm. Slowly pump the toy into your soaked cunt until you are relaxing against the bed and moaning softly. “Good girl.” He hums, smirking down at your blissed out face before he leans down to kiss you softly. “Now you can have a toy to keep you satisfied.” He tells you playfully.

You giggle, nodding and caressing his chest. “Thank you. For everything.” You murmur, leaning in to kiss along his neck. “When are you heading back to the QZ?” You ask, caressing his chest as you curl around him after he pulls the toy out of you and tosses it onto your nightstand.

“I have to leave in the next hour or so.” Joel admits, sighing slightly as he lays with you. It’s a long hike and he needs to get back. Even delaying the return to get your toy was something out of character for him. “But I’ll be back as soon as I can. There’s enough medicine for Frank to last for months.” He squeezes you close to him again. “Maybe I’ll find another toy before I come back.” He jokes.

You smirk, “I wouldn’t complain about that. Although I’d rather have you than any toy.” You confess and you sigh, kissing his jaw before you sit up. “We should clean up and get you something to eat before you get going. You’ll need to have your strength.” You know he’s going back to Tess and you try to not think about that as you clean yourself up. 

You feel him shift in beside you to clean up and you meet his dark gaze in the mirror. So much is left unsaid. In true Joel style, he grunts and shifts into your bedroom to get redressed. You wash the toy, hiding it in your drawer, and redress before heading downstairs to get him some food. 

“He get you a good one?” Frank asks and you fluster, liking the way Joel chuckles behind you, his hands on your hips. 

“Of course. She ain’t gonna miss me with that around.” 

Frank clicks his tongue, “I beg to differ there, Joel.” You offer the older man a warning look and he smirks, hobbling into the living room to continue with his reading.

Joel eats quickly, efficiently and when he’s done he moves over to the sink to clean the dishes. “I’ll get them.” You insist, making him sigh and turn to pull you close to him. 

“Send a message if you need something.” He orders gruffly, reaching up and holding your chin in his hand, thumb rubbing over your cheek. “Or if - if things get bad with Frank.” He hasn’t missed the way the older man is moving, obviously in more pain than before. “I think I can get some morphine, real morphine, not that fake shit.” He tells you. “Make it easy for him.”

You nod, turning your head to kiss his thumb. “That would be good. He’s getting worse. Bill won’t accept it but he is.” You sigh and step away from Joel, knowing that he’s leaving, you try to create a bit of distance. “Hopefully I won’t be sending any 80s to you. Even if it is my favorite era of music.” You smile and wink at him, “you best be off. Take some fruit with you. We picked apples the other day.” You walk over to the bowl to grab the apples and you put them in a sack, “plus I made you a sandwich for the road.” You walk over to the fridge to take out the box of sandwiches to give to him.

Joel takes the sandwiches and stares at you for a moment, wanting to say something but not knowing what. In the end, he nods at you and turns to walk to the front of the house, to bid Frank and Bill a goodbye before he treks back to Boston, wondering when he will see you again. 

You watch him go and sigh, sitting down at the kitchen table and you aren’t sure how long you sit there until Frank walks in, eyebrows raised. “Don’t say a word.” You warn him, looking out the window to see that night has fallen. 

“I didn’t say a thing.” He shakes his head, a wry smile on his face. 

****

Joel doesn’t return for a few months. Frank gets worse, no longer able to walk so you use the wheelchair Bill had found in the back of one of the stores within the compound. You try to medicate him as much as possible but his tremors create a lot of obstacles for him. “I’m getting worse.” Frank says one day while Bill waters the flowers around the house. 

“You are.” You tell Frank, knowing he won’t want you to beat around the bush. 

Frank sighs, glancing at the open door, “he’s not gonna take the news well.” 

You reach for Frank’s hand, squeezing it, “we will tell him together. I am here for you both. You’ve been so kind to me. I am forever in your debt. I’ll be here until the end.” You vow and Frank hums, his plan forming in his mind. Neither you nor Bill will like it but it’s necessary. He won’t be a burden on you and Bill in this new world. He’s had a good life.

Joel thinks about you randomly during the days. While he’s helping burn bodies or shovel shit, he’s wondering what you are doing. Wondering how Frank is doing. There hasn’t been a message but that doesn’t mean he hasn’t worried. When he gets the fucking battery, he’s going to check on them, on you, before he goes to find Tommy. Tess has already made noises about asking you to go and he thinks that she wants to stay behind.

When Frank and Bill tell you Frank’s plan, you cry. You have loved them like uncles and you know that Frank wants to go before he gets too bad. No amount of morphine or drugs will save him from his fate. Frank declares that him and Bill are getting married and you go with them to the boutique. Picking out a pretty dress, you change and help Bill dress Frank in the suit. The way they look at each other has tears forming in your eyes. When they exchange rings and vows, you take a Polaroid photo, wanting to remember their wedding day, and you help Bill cook Frank’s final meal. 

“I want to go too.” Bill declares softly and your eyes widen, “what?” Bill sighs, “I want to go with him. I don’t want to live without him. I know…I know it’s selfish and I know we will be leaving you but I’ve already set the radio to 80s, Joel will be here soon. Maybe he can move here and help you, keep the house going. Maybe Tess will come here too. I want…I want to go. It’s time. We are both old and he…he was my purpose. I’ve dug our grave to save you the time. Please make sure we are holding hands.” Bill requests and you nod, pulling him into your arms as you choke on a sob. “No tears. Let’s make this last dinner our best one yet.” Bill says, kissing your cheek and he walks off to find the bottle of Beaujolais. 

You wipe your eyes and carry the wine into the dining room, beautifully put together for their last dinner. You let them take their time, in no rush to finish this meal and when Bill nods, you stand up and grab the bottle of wine he’s had airing in the kitchen. Tears fall down your cheeks as you put the pills into the bottle and carry it in, waiting for Bill to tell Frank his plan, which he doesn’t, until after he’s already drunk down the glass. 

You cry, sniffing to stop your sobs, and Frank reaches for your hand. “I’ve had a good life. I want to go out my way, you’ve been a Godsend. Caring for me, you’re like…you’re like the daughter I never had and I want you to know that I love you. Thank you for everything.” Frank says and you sob, leaning in to kiss his cheek. 

“When you arrived, I wanted to kill you.” Bill says frankly and you offer him a watery chuckle, “oh I know.” Bill continues, “but I didn’t and I’m glad I didn’t. You brought life back to this house and I hope you continue to do so. With Joel.” Bill adds, “you both deserve a happy ending. Together.” Bill knows how Joel feels about you and you him, he hopes Joel comes when he hears the radio. 

“Thank you both…for everything. I love you so much.” You stand up and kiss Bill’s cheek and then Frank’s again, silently saying goodbye. 

“Take me to bed, Bill.” Frank orders and you stand to help. When you get Frank situated in the bed, Bill shifts to lay beside him, pulling him into his arms. The window is open and you lean against the doorframe, tearing streaming down your cheeks as you watch them embrace. 

“Goodnight.” You murmur, knowing this is the last time you’ll see them alive. 

“Goodnight. Don’t make too much noise when you go upstairs.” Bill says like he always does, making you smile. 

“I won’t.” You promise and shift to shut the door behind you, biting your lip to stop your sobs. You focus on cleaning up the dinner, putting the dishes away just as Bill always liked them. They’re gone by the time you go to bed, sobbing into your pillow that you could be all alone unless Joel arrives soon. You pray he does.

****

Joel clenches his jaw as he soaks his hand in the cold water. It feels good, relieving the pressure of the fractured bones. Staring into the water as he picks out a large, flat rock. Tess always liked the water, claiming that it was soothing. It seems fitting to build her a small memorial by the river. He piles the rocks up, every one symbolizing their relationship over the years. It had transitioned and her words haunt him slightly. He had known that he loved her, of course he loved her. He had spent years with her, but it had never been that all consuming love. Grief had kept him from getting too close, or opening himself up all the way, then it had shifted when he had met you. She had seen it. 

He sighs as he stands, starts making his way back to the trees where Ellie is waiting, they had stopped for the night after putting ten miles between them and Boston and there was still plenty of traveling to go until they get to Bill and Frank….and you. 

“Look, I’ve been thinking about-“ Ellie starts, the last two attempts to make conversation failing. 

Joel lurches to his feet as he starts to sling his pack onto his back. “I don’t want your sorries.” He spits out, still raw from the loss of the woman he had been with in one way or another for years. 

“I wasn’t gonna say I’m sorry.” Ellie shoots back, leaning forward and looking at him. “I was gonna say that I’ve been thinking about what happened. Nobody made you or Tess take me. Nobody made you go along with this plan.” Joel stares at the girl, aware of that fact. “You needed a truck battery or whatever, and you made a choice. So don’t blame me for something that isn’t my fault.” 

Joel wants to tell her that he doesn’t blame her, he wouldn’t blame a child for this shit. Instead he just nods, making her relax and gather her things. She brings his jacket back over to him and asks, “how much longer?” 

Joel thinks about you. “Five hour hike.” Five hours to get to you. Five hours before he can wrap his arms around you and forget everything for a few hours. 

Ellie contemplates it for a moment. “We can manage that.” Joel doesn’t answer, just turns around and starts on the path that will take him to you.

You are hanging up your laundry when you hear the gate beep. You grab the rifle you’ve kept close, aiming it as you sneak through the backyard to the hide out spot that allows you to look through the front of the house. You inhale sharply when you see Joel, followed by a teenage girl. You want to sob, relieved to see him, and you set the rifle down, rushing through the house and flinging the door open to rush into Joel’s arms.

The moment he sees you rushing out the door, he knows. Closing his eyes for a second to let another wave of grief wash over him before you are there. Throwing yourself into his arms while he catches you and pulls you close. 

“What the fuck is going on?” Ellie mutters, bewildered by the appearance of another woman who obviously cares for this asshole. Joel ignores her, hugging you tight and listening to you sob into his chest. 

“When?” He whispers, aware that he’s been away from his radio but he hopes you’ve not been alone with Bill for too long. 

“A few days ago.” You choke, breathing him in. He smells like sweat and dirt but it’s all Joel and you are in his arms again. “Both of them.” You reveal, pulling back to cup his cheeks, frowning when you see the grief in his eyes and you look at the teenager and then back at him. “Where’s Tess?” You ask, wondering if he left her with that new man you heard about last time he was here.

“Yesterday.” Joel exhales roughly, his heart aching for you, having to go through losing both of them at the same time. “Got bit.” He closes his eyes again and shakes off the emotions, tamping them down right now before he turns to Ellie. “This is Ellie.” He introduces you. “Tess- we were - she’s immune.” He tells you, knowing you will understand what he means. “I need to get her to my brother and the Fireflies.” 

“Immune?” Your eyes widen and Ellie awkwardly waves at you, “yeah. Been bit twice. Haven’t turned into a monster yet.” You can’t believe what you’re hearing, knowing this girl could be the key to something. 

“Come in. Bill left you a note. I’m sure you’re starving. Let me make you something to eat.” You say, taking Joel’s hand to guide him inside. You’re still processing, knowing Joel must be grieving Tess as much as you are grieving Bill and Frank.

Joel doesn’t want to read the note, knowing that the man never particularly cared for him but he owes it to the old bastard. “Shit, you live here?” Ellie asks, walking in and immediately starting to poke around. 

“Don’t go gettin’ in trouble, Ellie.” Joel calls out as the girl disappears down the hall. He sighs when she just waves one arm over her head. “Fuckin’ teenagers.” He huffs, rolling his eyes before he looks at you. “How are you doing?” He asks softly, frowning because you were all alone here. 

You shrug, “I’m fine. I- I miss them so much.” You choke and he pulls you back into his arms, “I didn’t know if you were going to come. Bill changed the radio before he - they went together. Took a shit ton of painkillers. I helped. They - Frank wanted to go and then Bill wanted to go with him. I’m here alone…well, until now.” You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. “I was worried you would never come.”

“You should have known I would come.” Joel chides you gently, wrapping his arms around you. “I told you I would be back but I’m sorry it wasn’t soon enough.” He closes his eyes and leans his forehead against yours.

“HOLY SHIT!” He jumps when he hears Ellie screech but he knows she’s safe. “They have hot water! I’m definitely taking a shower!” 

He huffs and rolls his eyes before he looks at you again. “She’s a little excitable.” 

You smile, knowing she probably hasn’t seen most of the things in this house preserved from a time long before she was born. “You need to take a shower too.” You wrinkle your nose jokingly, pulling back to look at him.

Joel frowns, pouting at you slightly because you are saying that he stinks. “Fine.” He huffs, not upset with you. He knows he stinks. He hadn’t exactly had time to stop and clean up. “Do you- uh…” He shuffles slightly and rubs the back of his neck, looking towards where Ellie had disappeared to. “Do you want to shower with me?”

You nod, knowing you both need this time to reassure each other that you are safe and alive. “Come on.” You take his hand, guiding him to your bedroom and adjoining bathroom. You work on unbuttoning his shirt, pushing it off of his shoulders, after you turn on the water to let it heat up.

Joel sighs, closing his eyes and letting the weight of the world roll off his shoulders. You are alone now. He can’t leave you here and yet he doesn’t know if you would want to go with him. It’s going to be a rough journey. “I- I have to take the girl west.” He tells you quietly. “I- if you want to stay here, I get it. It’s safe. It’s comfortable.” 

You caress his chest after you let his dirty shirt fall to the floor, “you could stay? It’s safe here. We have enough supplies to last a lifetime. Fresh food. Animals. It’s a good life. Bill made sure it would outlast time. Stay here. You and the girl.” You offer, reaching down to unbuckle his belt.

“I can’t.” Joel shakes his head, remembering Tess’s last words. ‘Save who you can save. Set it right.’ “What if- what if the girl could end all this?” He asks quietly, “she’s immune. Maybe, maybe there’s a fucking antibiotic they could create from her blood.” He looks up at you, begging you to tell him that it was possible. “Maybe people don’t have to keep dyin’.” 

You know he’s done a lot of bad shit, killed, stolen, but you know he’s done it to survive. Maybe him and Tess enjoyed some of it, you wouldn’t be surprised, but you know, deep down, he has hope. “Then we will get her where she needs to go. I survived out there before, I can do it again. If…if you want me to come along.” You add, knowing he might not necessarily want you to come along, he could leave you here alone. You imagine you’d go mad like Bill nearly did. He’d told you the stories of his life before Frank came along, how lonely he was.

“I don’t want to leave you here alone.” Joel murmurs quietly, admitting what he might not have said before losing so many so quickly. “It’s gonna be rough, dangerous.” He reminds you. “But I’d rather you be with me than wonderin’ what’s happenin’ here and worryin’ about you.”

You smile, “you’re a big softy inside. Just like Bill. You two were more alike than either of you would ever admit.” You stop undressing him and look into his eyes, “I’ll come with you. I know it’s dangerous but I’d rather die fighting beside you than be safe and alone in this house.” You cup his cheeks, wanting to know how to feel, “I’ll stand by you every day until the day I die.”

Joel wants to roll his eyes, to expel the heaviness of the situation but it would make a mockery of it. He nods and reaches up to cover your hands with his. “I’ll keep you safe.” He vows, aware that he’s let so many people down, but he can’t let you down. “I- I want you to know that I thought of you. While I was gone.”

Your heart flutters at his confession, “I thought of you too. Toy got a lot of use thinking about you, Miller.” You tease, kneeling down to take his boots off and pull his pants off of him. Once he’s naked, you work on your own clothes, eager to be naked and in the shower with him. You kick your clothes aside and walk into the bathroom, knowing he will follow you, and you check the water in hot. “Come on baby. Let’s clean up.” You say and pull him in behind you.

Joel groans at the hot water, closing his eyes like he always does. He needs to clean up, check on Ellie and start packing up the truck but for right now, he just needs this shower. “Fuck.” He murmurs softly, leaning against the wall and reaching for you. “I- they are all gone.” He sighs heavily.

“They’re all gone…but we aren’t.” You remind him, letting him pull you into his arms. The water hits just right to flow over you both and you kiss along his neck, absorbing the fact that he’s here and he’s alive, you’re alive. “I love you.” You whisper against his skin, knowing he’s heard it. He could reject you. Push you away, at least you would have gotten this off of your chest.

Joel sighs heavily, closing his eyes. He hadn’t been able to say anything to Tess in those final moments, even though he had cared for her greatly. Loved her in his own way. It’s something he regrets now. “I- care about you.” He murmurs softly. “I think about you, worry about you.” He swallows, thinking about Bill and how alike they were. “I love you.” He whispers.

You barely hear it but you do, knowing how hard it is for him to admit. You tilt your head up to press your lips against his. Emotions are a weakness in this world but you can’t stop yourself from loving him, even if you tried. You don’t say anything else, just tilt your head so you can press your lips to his, wanting to feel connected to him. Once you leave this house, every day is a blessing and who knows when you’ll have the chance to be connected like this. You want to savor this time.

He lets you draw him into the kiss, slowly deepening it as you pull him closer. Letting him forget everything but the way you taste and your warmth against him. You’re alive, he’s alive. You have each other. Joel groans and spins you around, pressing you up against the cool shower tiles and starts to ravage your mouth.

You moan, clinging to him as he pushes you against the wall, and he steals your breath from you, sliding his tongue into your mouth and his hands grab your thigh, lifting it up onto the edge of the bathtub. His cock hardens against your stomach and you reach between you to wrap your finger around him, slowly pumping him and loving the way he hardens in your hand.

He shouldn’t be doing this right now. There’s so many reasons why, but he needs to. Needs to feel you. Moaning into your mouth, his hand slides to your cunt, rubbing your clit and sighing in relief when he feels the wetness already gathering. “Let me fuck you.” Joel begs, kissing down your jaw. It’s selfish, but he needs the comfort you can give him. The thought of nothing but the pleasure between you.

"Do it. I need you Joel, fuck me." You beg, rocking your cunt down into his hand and whining when he withdraws his fingers. He bats your hand away from his cock and shifts closer to position the head at your entrance. You moan softly when he slowly splits you open, a little rough since you aren't soaking wet to take his length, but you don't care. You just want to feel connected to him.

“Shiiiiiiit.” Joel hisses, rolling his hips up and his hands flatten against the wall. The heat, the pulsing heat of your cunt tells him that you are still here. Letting him feel it. Turning his head, his lips press against yours for a long moment before he ever starts moving.

His tongue slides into your mouth and you finally feel safe. Since Bill and Frank died, you’ve been on edge, unable to sleep properly, but now he’s here, you know you’re in good hands. He’s capable, secure. You tilt your head back against the tile, letting the water run between you as he pushes into you, setting a slow but deep pace that has your cunt getting wetter and wetter around him.

It’s not as harsh as the first time, this is deeper. A reassurance that both of you need and he could never ask for. Making him feel every flutter of your cunt, heat every gasp. Rocking into your like it’s the last thing he will do. It might be, who knows what could happen? Life wasn’t guaranteed, like he’s been shown so brutally over the last few days.

Your hands are everywhere, caressing him, running through his now damp hair, down his chest, loving the steady thump of his heart under your palm. “I love you. I love you.” You whisper, trying to tilt your hips until he hits the right angle that has you moaning his name. You know he’s not an emotional man. He’s not verbally or physically affectionate but no one is in this new world. You’ll take what he gives you, eagerly and readily. You wrap your arms around his neck, keeping yourself upright while he fucks into you.

His lips trail along your skin, desperate for the tenderness that you show him. It’s greedy, but he’s never claimed to not be a greedy man. His hands grip your hips tightly, as if he’s afraid you would get away from him. “Fuck.” He moans out your name. “So good, I would stay here with you. Right here. Never leave.” He groans quietly.

You wish that was possible but you know he has to find Tommy, get the girl to where she needs to go. You don’t reply, just lean in to press your lips to his. His cock is pushing deep inside of you, your cunt dripping wet now, and you know you’re going to ache when he’s done.

Joel knows he’s not going to last for long, letting one bruising hand go from your hip to slide between you. Turning his wrist so he can rub your clit. It might be a long time before he gets a chance to fuck you and he wants to make it good for you. You whine into his mouth and he groans, flicking his tongue against yours as his fingers work your little bundle of nerves.

When his calloused digits rub your clit, you whine into his mouth, so close to cumming. “Fuck. Oh fuck baby. I’m - Joel.” You pant, tilting your head back as he hits just right inside of you and you are pushed over the edge. You bite down on his neck, smothering your cry as you cum, clamping down on his cock as the water continues running over his back.

Joel grunts, pushing into you harder and faster. The slap of his hips echoing the bathroom. Growling as he gets closer with every unhinged thrust. Pumping his cock into you a half dozen more times before he is pulling out, not even needing to stroke himself as he spurts against the shower wall.

You pant, watching him as he closes his eyes, trying to process how he feels and you give him several moments until you’re reaching for the shampoo. “Come here.” You murmur, pulling him back towards you. You reach up to lather up his hair, washing it and massaging his scalp.

Joel closes his eyes and sighs softly. “That feels good.” He murmurs, enjoying the feeling of your nails on his scalp. Cumming and getting clean are doing wonders right now, letting the tension fade as the water swirls down the drain.

You work your fingers through his salt and pepper locks, until he is practically slumped against you and you wash the shampoo out of his hair. Grabbing the body wash, you lather up his chest and shoulders, turning him around so you can lather up his back and massage his shoulders. No words are spoken as you take care of him. You want to take care of him.

You don’t stop touching him until the water runs clean. Completed scrubbed from head to toe and Joel feels like he could cry. Unable to remember the last time someone cared for him like that. He turns to you, taking the sponge from your hand. Wanting to do the same for you, since this might be the last shower for a while. “We need to pack supplies.” He tells you, kneeling down at your feet. “You any good with a gun?”

“Bill made sure I could hit a target from across the fence. Wanted backup in case things went to shit. Before I arrived here, I learned how to use one. Needed it to survive.” You sigh when his hands scrub your skin, tender and opposite of Joel’s gruff nature. “I’m good with a knife too. Can take out infected.” You confess, knowing you might need a little practice on that one since Bill’s traps always worked so well with the infected. “I left the radio off. Just in case and maybe we can come back here one day.”

Joel nods but he doesn’t want to tell you that it probably won’t happen. “Pack what you need.” He tells you. “We’re gonna be cramped in that piece of shit truck of his.” Joel had ragged on Bill for the little S-10, but damned if he still didn’t have a running car.

You know it’s a pipe dream but it will keep you going through the dark times. You finish washing up, stepping out of the shower after turning off the water. “I’ll go get enough food for us. Non perishable and - and Bill has ammo in the basement. More weapons.” You tell Joel, leaning in to kiss him softly, “I’ll go get you some more clothes.” You wrap the towel around you and Joel grabs onto your waist, pulling you back towards him, pressing his lips to yours. His hands cup your cheeks and you smile against his lips. “Clothes.” You remind him, pulling away so you can dress.

Joel dries off, aware that he will face some shit from the kid, but he doesn’t care. He isn’t going to just pretend like you don’t matter to him. Opening the medicine cabinet, he pulls out the deodorant and swipes some under his arms before he picks up your comb and slicks his hair back. Humming to himself at the tired image in the mirror. You seem to like him, so that was favorable, but he sighs, looking down at his hand where the scabbed skin is starting to heal. Soon you will have to leave this little heaven and there’s going to be a lot of trouble ahead. But he won’t leave you behind again. He’s taking you with him.

You come back with a set of clothes - Frank’s old clothes - and you get dressed while he goes downstairs. “Don’t you look pretty?” Ellie teases Joel who stares at her, resisting the urge to roll his eyes, and he tosses the deodorant stick towards her. 

You come downstairs after packing your bag and you see Ellie holding a box of tampons. “Do you know how to use those?” You know, she likely doesn’t but you want to help her if she needs it.

“Nosebleeds?” Ellie asks sarcastically, rolling her eyes. “I’ve had a period since I was ten.” She informs you, making Joel wince since that’s information he does not need to know. 

“Hey, be nice, she’s a nurse.” He informs Ellie meaningfully. He knows you are just trying to open a line of communication with the girl. 

You sigh, sending that she’s going to be your typical teenager. “Well, if you want any advice on that, I’m here for you.” You tell her, making your way into the kitchen to find your emergency first aid kid. You shove that into your backpack and grab the spare to start getting the tinned and dry food. You put the bottle of whiskey in there and decide to take the last bottle of Beaujolais, knowing that Bill would want you to enjoy it. 

“You ready?” You ask Joel when he comes back in.

He nods, “battery is charged. You ready?” He asks you, knowing this is a huge step. 

You nod, “yes, I’m ready.” You are ready to leave, you’ll follow Joel to the end of the world if you have to. He playfully smacks your ass when you walk into the garage and when you’re in the car, you sit in the backseat since Ellie has never been in a car before. 

“It’s like a spaceship.” She says in awe and you giggle at the amused look on Joel’s face. 

“Seatbelt.” He tells you, his eyes meeting yours in the rear view mirror and you follow his order. Ellie has to be helped and finally, Joel starts the car to drive away from the house. You turn to look at your home, silently saying goodbye to Bill and Frank, when Ellie grabs the tape and Joel puts it in. 

The sweet voice of Linda Ronstadt fills your ears and Ellie wants to change it but Joel stops her. He knows the song but he doesn’t know what it meant to Bill and Frank…you do. You wipe your eyes, mourning your good friends and the life they provided you as you follow the man you love on his mission to find his brother and deliver Ellie to the fireflies. Let’s just hope she is the key to the end of this nightmare. Looking back at the house one last time, you wonder if you’ll ever make it back here. Maybe one day, you’ll be living here with Joel…enjoying your happily ever after.

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[aloneinthehellfire]

Chapter One: A New Friend, A New Enemy

The Pariahs That Saved The World (Masterlist)

Word Count: 5.1k

Warnings: mentions of death, canon descriptions (vecna's curse)

[A/N: Thank you to everyone who seems really excited about this! I am going to try and post for this one weekly, just so I have enough time between uni and work to write new chapters :) This one is a little long, but I needed to set up Reader's character a little more so enjoy!]

The Introduction <-

A New Friend, A New Enemy

“Y/n!”

You slip off your headphones and greet your grandmother with a smile, laughing when she squeezed you tight. It had been almost 8 months since you watched her wave her hand of farewell in the rear view mirror. You had missed her the most, you think. Her warm hugs, her calming perfume, the way she cared for you.

“Come on, I’ve made us some lunch.” She hurries you inside and you laugh again.

“I need to grab the rest of my things, first.” You shake your head in amusement, escaping her clutches and darting back to the taxi, thanking the man for pulling out your luggage.

Just as you hitch your duffel bag over your shoulder, your eyes catch something familiar a few houses down. A worn out and beaten Chevrolet sat abandoned outside of its former resident’s house, a white piece of paper resembling a ticket you had seen when the mechanics would return your property if not claimed. You could just make out the ‘for sale’ sign driven into the mud, your heart wrenching. You had hoped your return would be free from unwanted memories. That obviously didn’t exist in Hawkins.

“So, tell me everything. How’s Stanford?” Gran rushes through with excitement just as your feet are barely inside the door. “Oh, we are so proud of you, honey. Our little star, a Stanford journalist!”

“Gran, you know it’s only my first year, I haven’t even managed to write anything let alone publish it.” You say, following her with your bags. She was leading you up to the guest room. Well, technically, it was your room. You had never really accepted that.

“Oh, did you notice the Hargroves house is for sale?” She whispers out like an unspeakable secret, and you dump your bags on the floor.

“Yeah, I saw.” You try to remain emotionless, rolling your shoulder until the usual ache faded. You were used to it now, the muscles flaring up every now and then.

“Apparently- now, you didn’t hear it from me…” She starts to lean in and you suppress a smile. Your grandmother, the gossiper. “Apparently, the husband just took off.”

“What?” You suddenly gain interest, frowning.

“Oh, yeah. The end of last summer.” She nods knowingly. “Must have been hard for them after their son died. It was a tragedy. And that poor girl… Andrea down the road told me she and the mother were forced to move into the trailer park down by Kerley. Not fit for a child, if you ask me.”

“They obviously couldn’t afford anywhere else.” You say, mostly to yourself, and Gran simply hums in agreement.

“Oh, which reminds me, Melanie, the one with the bird nest hair, she…”

She begins rambling once again about the neighbourhood, obviously pleased to have her granddaughter back so she can share the gossip. You listened intently, nodding when you needed to, offering your own remarks when prompted. You loved your Gran. The thought of her being alone in this house affected you more than you realise.

The real reason you were back wasn’t because you had missed Hawkins. In fact, you were set on your Spring Break exploring Stanford and all it had to offer. But about two months ago, your grandad was omitted to the hospital and a week later, he was no longer with you. Your Gran had shared how his health had been deteriorating for a while now, that they had expected it sooner or later. So, in the end, it wasn’t a surprise. It didn’t make it any less sad.

“Should I be expecting guests for dinner?” She asks and you blink, frowning.

“Guests?”

“Your friends.” She reiterates, already busying her hands by pulling out your already folded clothes from your suitcase and refolding them how she liked it. “I assume everyone will be anxious to see you. It’s been eight months, hasn’t it?”

“Uh…” You purse your lips, shrugging. “I don’t know, I thought it could just be the two of us tonight.”

Gran gently places down a sweater and eyes you suspiciously. “So, you’ll be seeing them tomorrow?”

“Maybe.” You give off the first vague answer in your head, fiddling with the sleeves of your jacket and sitting down on the plush bedding behind you.

“Hm.” She sounds, sliding shut the first drawer before she silently walks around the bed and sits beside you. “You won’t be seeing them, will you?”

It wasn’t a question. You lift your eyes to meet hers and sigh.

“We aren’t as close as we were before, Gran. It’s… complicated.” You decide and she takes your hand in hers.

“You’ve known them since you were just a little sprout.” She ruffles your hair and you cringe, laughing and batting her hand away. “I’m sure whatever happened can’t be so complicated that you can’t… I don’t know, catch up over coffee? Or whatever you kids are doing these days.”

“I wish it was like that.” You say, and you meant it. After a moment, she seems to understand that you didn’t want to continue this particular conversation and she stands, brushing her outfit back into simple perfection.

“Well, sandwiches, anyone?” She offers and you grin, nodding.

The day before you left for Stanford, you were contemplating whether or not it was the right choice. Gran was right, you have known them since you were a kid. But last summer changed all of that. You weren’t sure you could see their faces ever again.

So, rather than try and find them, you decided to spend the next day unpacking. You’d be here for a month so it made sense to have everything neat and tidy. It was just until the funeral, and then you’d be back at college and studying away any memory of Hawkins being your home. Because it wasn’t. Not anymore.

You can hear the distant ring of the phone echoing up the stairs, continuing to pull out your books. You might as well be caught up with your classes if you were going to spend all your time inside.

“Y/n!” Gran calls up and you push away from the desk to lean over the banister.

“Yeah?” You ask as she stares up at you, the phone in her left hand while the right covered the receiver.

“It’s your friend.” She says with a small smile and your face drops into a frown. “She says it’s urgent.”

“Uh…” You shake your head. Who would be calling you? “Yeah, I’ll be down in a sec.”

Gran nods and relays the information, setting the phone on the side table and disappearing back into the kitchen.

Your footsteps were wary as you descend the staircase, eyes set on the white object beside one of your grandmother’s vases. There was a hauntingly familiar rush of adrenaline coursing through your body, one you hadn’t felt in a long time. Once you reach the table, you shift your focus to the photo frame. It was small, a collected memory from a few years ago now. You were stood there smiling, the camera capturing you in pleasant surprise when a brunette girl behind you had jumped onto your back. It made your eyes sting, and you knew you had to make the decision to answer the call.

Hesitantly picking up the phone, you hold it to your ear and close your eyes.

“Hello?”

“Y/n?” Nancy’s voice blares through and your eyes snap back open.

Barrels of apologies and excuses spewed from her lips and you stand in silent shock, clutching the receiver a little too tight. She could only be calling for one reason. You had known it before you had even answered the phone.

Something was happening in Hawkins. Again. And if Nancy was calling for help, then she truly needed it.

And you’d never let her down.

“Have we met before?” You ask, studying the girl stood next to you.

The walls of the archive were surprisingly bright, shining an iridescent hue on her dark blonde locks. Her blue eyes were blinking back at you, pink lips stuck in a soft pucker of indecision. She was pretty. Really pretty. And at the same time she looked effortlessly cool, a jacket you wished you own. Something about her felt familiar to you, drawing you in.

Then a pang of guilt hits you and you force your concentration on waiting for her answer.

Robin felt weak. Who were you? It was taking everything in her to open her mouth and speak which, as literally everyone knew, was incredibly unlike her.

“I don’t think so.” Robin finally breathes out. There was softness in the way you spoke to her too, calming her nerves. Those strange waves of anxiety were being taken with the tide like you were her lighthouse in the stormy sea of her mind.

“Oh.” You scrunch your face with a smile. “Well, it’s nice to meet you.”

She was surprised to see you put out your hand but she willingly shakes it anyway, smiling back.

When you pull away, Robin seems a little more comfortable, coming closer to peer down at your old project folder, reading along with Nancy. You tried not to stare, busying your eyes with your own work in Nancy’s hands.

“Anything… juicy over there?” Robin asks Nancy and the girl throws her a tight lipped smile.

“Nothing new yet.” She responds and you notice the strain in her voice. She adopted it any time she was struggling to enjoy somebody’s presence.

“Victor seemed like a normal guy. Dead family, missing eyes, took a plea deal, sent to Pennhurst. Blah, blah, blah, blah.” Robin utters as she skims over the page below, slowly raising her head to look at Nancy. “What are we looking for exactly?”

Nancy doesn’t respond and continues flicking through the pages, making Robin’s eyes widen.

“Nance?” She tries again and you frown.

“She’s focused.” You offer, smiling. “She zones in so much that she zones out sometimes.”

“Right.” She nods slowly, still staring at her. “Um, so are we, uh… looking for any mentions of dark wizards or alternate dimensions? Things in that vein?”

You remember something and open your mouth to speak before Nancy interrupts with a huff.

“I don’t know, okay?” She sighs loudly, leaning against the desk and meeting Robin’s eyes. “It’s starting to seem like this was just a big waste of time. And you’re obviously bored so why don’t you just call Steve? I’m sure he’ll come pick you up. And I mean, I’m not really in danger here, so…”

With that, she walks away from the table and grabs another folder you had brought, furiously flipping through as she travels down a different staircase to the filing room. Your eyebrows raise.

“Woah.” You simply say, noticing Robin’s frown. “She’s, uh… hell, I don’t even know. Nance gets ultra focused when she thinks she has a lead on something and, well… she doesn’t like to get it wrong. Which is understandable.”

“So, she acts like this with other people?” She asks and you tighten your lips.

“Um…”

“Okay, that’s a no.” Robin groans, dragging her hands down her face. “I’m trying, I really am, I just struggle with whatever the hell bonding is meant to be, I mean me and Steve literally only bonded because we were both getting tortured and thought we would die. Which, no, not an ideal way to start a friendship but you know what, it’s better than whatever the hell this is.”

“You were at Starcourt?” You frown and she looks back at you, eyes wide like a deer in headlights. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have brought that up-”

“No, no, it’s okay.” She waves her hands, “I, um… no one really mentions it anymore. Unless it’s the news and they’re pretending like it was a-”

“Fire, yeah. I heard.” You say, staring at the stairs Nancy descended. “How did all of this start?”

“Excuse me?” She blinks and you turn your attention back to her.

“This… Vecna, was it? How did it start?” You repeat, shaking your head. “Nancy could only tell me so much over the phone so I’m a little behind.”

“A girl was found dead in the trailer park.” Robin relays, gulping. “Chrissy Cunningham? She’s a cheerleader. Was. They found her with all her bones snapped and her eyes were… gone. They think Eddie Munson did it-”

“Eddie?” You gasp, and Robin looks surprised. “No, Eddie wouldn’t do that-”

“We know. Trust me.” She says hurriedly, “He told us everything that happened. Apparently she was floating in the air and her bones were snapping- it’s a really gruesome story but the same thing, like, just happened to Fred and we need to figure out who this Vecna is before someone else gets hurt.”

“Okay.” You breathe and she raises her brow.

“Okay? I just unloaded a dump of hell onto you, and it’s okay?” She sounded intrigued and you shrug.

“The last few years have been… weird. To the point where weird sounds normal now.” You say, a soft frown on your features.

Robin wasn’t entirely sure where you fit into all of this. Sure, you had information they needed, you’ve been a part of their group for some time, you made sense. What she was struggling to understand is why you were here now. And why you weren’t here before.

“How’d you meet everyone?” You ask before she can. Any thought she had of questioning your arrival was cleverly misplaced. For the moment.

“I worked with Steve at Scoops Ahoy last year.” Robin nods and you frown.

“But I never…” You start before your eyes widen, mouth curling into a smile. “Oh my god, yes! I do remember you!”

“You do?” Robin tries to comb back through her memories.

“Yeah, Max dragged me there maybe… a week after it opened? She was telling me about Steve’s little sailor outfit and of course, I didn’t believe her, so she had to show me proof.” You giggle to yourself, meeting her eyes. “I remember you were taking a break outside, Max introduced us. Well, kind of. She never got to my name before Steve arrived with that stupid frown on his face.”

“I don’t remember that.” She frowns and you bite your lip, shoving your hands into your jacket pockets. “Sorry, I don’t mean that in like, a mean girl way. I mean, my memory is apparently broken because I’m very sure I would have remembered you. Not in a weird way, either, like- I just think you make an impression on people- a good one. Not a bad one.”

“It’s okay.” You laugh and she shakes her head enough to make her bangs sway in her embarrassment. “I looked a lot different then. And I was, like, super shy. I was probably hiding my face or something.”

“Hold on.” She blinks with a smirk. “You’re the girl? Like, the girl?”

“Am I meant to know what that means?” You squint your eyes.

Robin simply laughs to herself until she clocks your confusion. “No, I… Max did bring someone in for, like, one of our first ever shifts together. I remember because when they left, Steve looked like some kicked puppy and I couldn’t work with him and that stupid frown so I made him tell me what was bothering him. Apparently, the girl that left was the girl he couldn’t get in high school and it ‘haunts’ him. It’s so stupid.”

You go quiet and her eyes widen.

“Oh god.” She covers her mouth. “Did I talk too much again? God, I’m sorry- I literally can’t control my mouth.”

“No, you’re right.” You say, shaking your head. “Steve… he and I don’t really get along. Opposite ends of the high school popularity pool until I won this debate contest and suddenly everyone wanted to be my friend. I didn’t think it was that big of a deal, but suddenly I was on Steve’s radar and, well, you know the rest.”

“You can do better.” She simply nods and you raise your eyebrow at her remark. “What? Oh, he’s amazing now. Like, a genuine gentleman kind of guy, but King Steve? Whew, that boy needed a leash or something.”

“You guys are pretty close, huh?” You ask and she smiles.

“Yeah, he’s my best…” She begins before her face drops. Oh.

“What?” You ask when she starts walking away.

“I know why!” She exclaims before turning her heel and marching down those steps to Nancy, finding her sorting through the filing cabinet.

If Nancy heard her, she didn’t acknowledge it. Robin felt so stupid. It had been a while since she’d been a part of ‘girl world’ or, more specifically, ‘girl-code world’. The thought of there being any tension hadn’t even crossed her mind before.

“You do know that Steve and I are, like, totally not a thing, right?” Robin asks breathlessly, leaning against the wooden banister.

“What?” Nancy frowns, shaking her head and turning to look over her shoulder.

“So I figure that you and Jonathan are still going strong ‘cause you guys are going to college together, and you’re like one of those unstoppable power couples, but I… I just… I wanted to make sure that you knew that Steve and I are just friends. Like, platonic with a capital P.”

Nancy’s response in underwhelming at best, a tight lipped smile and Robin almost groans in frustration. She can hear your sneakers steadily descend the stairs and she turns back.

“Just in case that’s adding any tension between us.” She expresses to Nancy and you frown at the interaction.

“It wasn’t.” Nancy replies and Robin sighs.

“Uh…” You start to say, both pairs of eyes immediately looking at you. “Sorry to, um, interrupt. I have stuff I need to do…”

“Right.” Nancy blinks apologetically, looking back at the folder in her hands. “I’m so sorry, I really thought I was going to find something. I… I didn’t want to drag you into this, really, it’s just-”

“Hawkins.” You finish her sentence, stepping off the final stair and leaning against the banister. “Yeah, I know.”

“Holy shit.” Robin gasps, suddenly grabbing the folder out of Nancy’s hands despite her silent protest. “Is that from The Weekly Watcher?”

She points to a specific part of one of the tabs and you move to peer over her shoulder, nodding.

“Don’t they write about, like, Bigfoot and UFOs?” Nancy scoffs, already dismissing the idea.

“First of all, UFOs are absolutely real. Bigfoot I’m still on the fence about.” She comments and you hum agreement. “But may I remind you we are looking for information on dark wizards? If someone’s gonna write about that, it’s gonna be these weirdos.”

“She’s not wrong.” You add and Nancy’s eyebrows raise in surprise. “Yeah, there’s a whole article about Victor Creel. He claimed that a vengeful demon killed his family. Obviously I only added a reference for context, I never actually believed it. You know, before…”

You vaguely gesture the space around you and Robin flips the page over.

“According to several insiders, Victor believed his house was haunted by an ancient demon.” Robin read aloud, and you could feel the goosebumps prickle along your skin. “Victor allegedly hired a priest to exorcise the demon from his home- pretty novel for the 50s, Exorcistwasn’t even out yet.”

“Keep- keep going.” Nancy insisted and Robin frowns.

“That’s all that’s here.” She says and Nancy looks at you.

“He claimed that the exorcism failed.” You recall, staring at the cut out photo of the Creel Family. “He said it angered the demon. It murdered his family, removing their eyes.”

“Did it say why he wasn’t killed?” Robin questions.

“Victor believed he was spared as a punishment.” You say with a twist in your stomach. His whole family died. He was all alone.

“Yeah, that’s pretty convenient for Victor.” Nancy mumbles and Robin frowns.

“Yeah, or super inconvenient.” She challenges, her eyes looking at yours for support. You simply nod, feeling sick. “Victor was declared legally insane by the court, right? Well, what if this is why? I mean, it sounds pretty insane, it just didn’t go public because-”

“The plea bargain.” Nancy jumps in, and you can see her trying to slot all the pieces together, “The records were sealed.”

“What if a demon did invade Victor’s home.” Robin glances between you both. “It’s just, this demon wasn’t any old demon.”

“It was Vecna.” Nancy finishes, and you immediately start shaking your head.

“Okay, you guys got everything you need?” You quickly rush out, sorting the folder around so it would shut. “Actually, you know what, you guys can just keep that, I need to-”

“You’re leaving?” Nancy frowns, following you as you jog back up the stairs and to where you had dumped your bag before. Robin hurriedly grabbed your folder and followed suit.

“Yeah, I told you, I have stuff to do.” You mutter an excuse, slipping your bag over your shoulder.

“But what about-”

“No, Nance.” You suddenly say, much stricter than you intended it to be. You pause your steps, taking a deep breath to look her in the eye. “I hate that there’s something new terrorising Hawkins. And I’m sorry you have to deal with it. I am. But that’s your choice. I can’t do this again.”

Robin stood there, clutching your folder to her chest. Nancy was struggling with her words, and you didn’t look like you were going to stick around long enough to hear them.

“We need you.” Robin blurts and you look at her, frowning. “I’m sorry, but we do. You know more about this case than any of us, you dedicated, what, a whole month? Maybe more? To learn about the Creel House, about the murders. You have information we can’t possible find because Hawkins doesn’t like to keep around its records of murder, and- and Nancy said you were great at this detective stuff which basically means you know what we need to do next.”

Rather than respond, you start weighing your options. The best decision you ever made was leaving all of this behind. Stanford had everything you wanted; hope. Anytime you decided to help them, it was always your life you were risking. That they were risking. Why would this time be any different?

“I really hope you win this.” You finally say, offering half a smile before you push through those doors and don’t look back, disappearing into the darkening shadows outside.

“Damn it.” Nancy curses, resting a hand on her hip and the other on a table.

“What happened between you guys?” Robin asks into the silence and Nancy looks up.

“What do you-”

“I don’t want a vague answer.” She says, still clutching onto the folder pressed against her chest. “She looked terrified. Which, yeah, it makes a lot of sense under normal circumstances. But this was more like PTSD kind of terrified. What the hell happened last year that no one’s telling me?”

The silence left Robin in the dark, Nancy’s features pouring over in restrained emotion.

By the time you had dug out your keys with trembling hands, you could feel the prickling of tears threaten to spill at any moment. They had no right to ask that of you. Especially not Nancy. She was there last year, she knows why you left. And yet again, none of them were listening to you.

You sat in your grandad’s old armchair for about an hour, a book resting on your lap but it remained untouched. It would just be another distraction, another reason to pretend like nothing was wrong. To stop yourself from remembering, feeling.

It’s why you went to Stanford, really. You didn’t care about journalism like you used to. But the work load was almost unbearable, which meant that every waking moment would need to be dedicated to studying. If you didn’t occupy your mind, you’d have to relive last year.

“Hi, sweetie.” Gran says as she enters the room, a shopping bag in one hand. You hadn’t even heard her key in the door. “Did you see your friends?”

“Yeah.” You clear your throat, setting aside the book and leaning forward.

“What did you kids get up to?” She asks before quickly disappearing into the kitchen to set down her groceries. When she returns, you have your head in your hands.

You can feel her fingers gently pry away your hands as she takes the chair opposite you, smiling like she already knew what was going through your head. Looking at her, the way her eyes were glazing over, you felt so selfish. You had left to escape everything that happened last year, and you had left her for months to deal with it all alone. Here you were, wallowing in self pity because your friends hadn’t been there for you when you needed them, and it turns out you’re doing the exact same thing to her.

“I’m so sorry.” You say, wiping away the tear that trickles down your cheek. “I should have stayed with you and Grandad.”

“What?” She frowns lightly, shaking her head. “Darling, no. All we ever wanted for you was to get out into the world, find something that made you happy.”

“But I’m not happy.” You express, catching a sob that threatened to escape. “I just wanted to get away, get out of Hawkins. I wasn’t even thinking about it, I- I just couldn’t…”

Her hand suddenly finds your own, squeezing it tight.

“It’s okay.” She says and you lift your head up. She continued smiling, but it was much sadder now. “No one can expect you to move on from what happened last year as quick as that.”

“And what if I never move on?”

“It’s not about moving on.” She smiles. “It’s about acceptance. It’s about holding onto the memory because you cherish it, not because you are haunted by it.”

The clock in the distance could be heard counting the seconds as you sit there in silence. She was right, as per usual. You weren’t letting yourself feel. You should be embracing the fact that you still had her. Even with all Hawkins has been through, you still had her.

Your heart pangs with panic. She was still here.

“I should be getting to bed-”

“Come with me.” You offer suddenly and she raises her eyebrows.

“To Stanford?” She says as if it were absurd.

“I’m serious. Let’s move away, start fresh. We’ll find somewhere new, Gran. Please.” You beg and she offers a smile, capturing your hand by placing another on top.

“Hawkins is my home. It always has been. I was born here, I met the love of my life here. I watched my little one grow up and, when he had little ones of their own, I watched them grow up too. This is where my family is. I… I can’t leave.”

“No, don’t worry, I’ll get it.” You say, smiling. “You should get some rest.”

Your heart wrenches. If only she knew what you did. About what really happens in Hawkins, what lurks there in the dark. She can’t stay here, not when you know it isn’t safe. Not when she’s all you have left.

Three knocks echo out from the front door, and Gran shifts in her seat, quickly glancing at the clock. Who would be here at this hour?

“Thank you.” She stands with you, squeezing your hand as she dropped it. “Try and get some rest.”

You wait until she’s heading up the stairs and out of earshot before you rush to the door, gently brushing aside the small curtain and frowning at the silhouette. It wasn’t who you had expected.

The door is open barely four inches before she starts talking at you, ring-donned hands clasped together.

“Look, I know we’ve literally just met. And I probably- no, I definitely don’t have the right to ask you to stay with us, but we’re basically alone right now. Half of us are in California, we don’t have any connections in the sheriff’s department anymore. Everyone who would know what to do is gone, and you’re kinda the only person left who can help us. I get so much happened to you last year and I- I can’t imagine what you’re going through, but if there’s even a tiny part of you that wants to do this, then please listen to it. Please.”

Robin didn’t know what she was expecting when she left the school. Her feet had taken her further than her mind was planning, but she knew she had to find you. Max was in trouble, and they were all way in over their heads to not have help. Nancy refused to bother you any further, and she understood, she really did, but this wasn’t a normal circumstance. This was bigger than all of them, bigger than everyone.

“Robin?” You say, brows scrunched together in surprise. She thins her lips.

“Sorry to just blurt that all out, but I didn’t know if you were just gonna slam the door on me- or maybe I’d forget what I wanted to say.” She explained, feeling the embarrassment creeping up her cheeks. She didn’t want to say the wrong thing to you. “Max is in trouble.”

“What?” You sobered at the thought, leaning closer to her. Then, in a moment of split decision, you glance back up the stairs before stepping outside and closing the door behind you. “What happened?”

“We found a connection between all the victims.” Robin tries to explain, and you noticed how expressive she was with her hands. “Basically, Max has the same symptoms as the rest of them, and she’s, like, 100% sure she’s next of Vecna’s kill list.”

“Is she okay?” You ask, and Robin can see the desperation behind your eyes.

“Yeah. Shaken up, but she’s fine. For now.” She clears her throat, a pleading look as she stares at you. “We need to find Vecna as fast as we possibly can before he can get to her. I… I know about what happened last year. About your dad.”

You seem taken aback by her knowledge, eyes darting down to your shoes.

“I don’t blame you for wanting to leave all of this behind.” She sympathises, and she let herself be much calmer than she felt. “But I’m asking you if you’ll help us.”

Your heart was aching as you wipe your sweaty palms against your jeans, barely even feeling the cold rush of wind hitting your bare arms. You had meant what you said earlier; you couldn’t do this again. It took everything in you to move out of Hawkins, go to college and live a life the person you loved the most couldn’t do anymore.

But you were currently stood in front of a door. And behind that door, was the last person you had left, and she wasn’t planning on leaving her home any time soon. As it turned out, fleeing wasn’t an option for everyone else.

“I’ll do it.”

Robin blinks, studying you for any ounce of uncertainty. You looked deadly serious.

Maybe, just maybe, with you by their side, they were taking down Vecna after all.

taglist: @kryztalglear @officerrrfriendly @a-simpfortessa-lesbriean @spacedoutdaydreamer @em16cor @endurexxsurvive

[if you see your name highlighted in pink, it means that tumblr wouldn't let me tag you! i am trying to figure out the reasons behind this but it could be as simple as visibility settings so please check that <3]

[couldsewyouastitchandsavenine]

All The Kings [Joel Miller] 01

pairing: joel miller x fem!reader

a/n: my first Joel Miller fic. It was never my intention to write it, but the other day, I just sat down and started writing, and voila, this came out. this is also the first part of two. please, read and enjoy, and feedback is very welcome in every shape and form. cheers! the title and inspiration for the story comes from one of my favorite songs All The Kings by Editors. big thanks to @avastrasposts for inspiring me to post this.

wordcount: 4.5K

warnings: as it is mainly angst, there are some hints about readers mental health, memory repression, mentions of loneliness, death in family and isolation.

You don’t really remember much from those other, happier times, when the world around you was alive, vibrant and overflowing with promises that no longer were. The memories of those days have faded, turnimg into mere echoes, like bits and pieces of a dream slipping through your fingers upon waking up, leaving you lost in a sea of confusion. 

Yet, sometimes—if you focus hard enough, that is—some of the fragments of memories flutter back to life. 

Rays of sunlight filtering through the branches and casting patterns on the sidewalk in front of your family home. Fleeting images of friends laughing. Sneaking out through the window. Scraped knees. Trampled grass. Silly crushes, and kisses stolen when no one was watching. First taste of alcohol. 

There were family gatherings and family trips, soda cans, plastic bags and coffee cups, brimming and steaming. 

There was a smell of bread fresh from the oven, burnt mouths, brain-freezes and ice cream melting between your fingers—an universe that was stitched in a mosaic of flower-adorned dresses and white, scuffed sneakers. 

There was the warmth of your mother’s embrace, your brother’s beaten-up car, and his mock impatience as he waited to give you a lift to school.

A heavy sigh escaped your lips, and with your eyes still shut tight, you let your head fall forward, resting heavily on the unsteady surface of your old dining table. 

You didn’t like to think about those other, happier times, because going back meant more than reminiscing. It meant yearning. Wishing that things were different. Same as they used to be. It meant longing for a life when everything felt right. Life that was so unlike the one you lived now. 

Most of the time, you simply locked those thoughts away in your chest with a key you pretend to have lost, burying it deep within, hoping perhaps that out of sight would also mean out of mind. 

It rarely did, though—

A brisk rap at the door shattered the silence, echoing briefly before fading as swiftly as the curse you muttered under your breath. You straightened up, surprise and curiosity melding together and knitting your brows as you paused — a moment of hesitation visible in the slight scrunch of your nose.

For a brief second, you remained still, caught in the unexpected interruption. Then, with a fluid motion born of a mix of alarm and intrigue, you rose to your feet. The floorboards groaned, protesting the sudden movement as you navigated toward the door — confusion clouded your thoughts about who it might be.

Guests had become a rarity these days, becoming just an echo of a time when the outside world hadn't yet forgotten the path to your doorstep.

Oh.

Your reaction, a mix of surprise and inquiry, hung in the air as you faced the unexpected visitor—a man whose presence seemed almost surreal against the backdrop of your isolated existence. As he took a hesitant step up to your porch, your gaze involuntarily dropped to the frayed doormat beneath your feet.

The irony of having a doormat in the first place was laughable, considering everything. But once one’s life gets stripped bare of comfort, every sad attempt at homeliness makes a difference. 

“Hi!” Tommy started, his voice threaded with a note of uncertainty as he absentmindedly fiddled with his moustache. His other hand was buried in the pocket of his sherpa jacket, seemingly searching for the right words.

You observed him for a brief moment — the silence weaving its weight around you both.

Tommy Miller was a known figure in town, yet not someone you knew intimately. An influential presence, always at the forefront of community meetings and patrols — his voice resonating with a confidence that had long since ebbed from your own life.

“Can I help you with something?" your question finally broke through, tinged with doubt.

Tommy nodded, his gaze briefly shifting away before locking back onto yours. 

“Yes,” he began, pausing as if to collect his thoughts. Then, with a half-smile that wove together threads of embarrassment and sincerity, he dove straight into his request. “I was hoping you’d consider cooking for a small get-together we’re having.” He cleared his throat awkwardly, adding, “Maria’s hands are full with the baby, and she didn’t want to cancel the plans. We both remembered how amazing that meatloaf you made for the town meeting was, back when you first moved here.”

His words, earnest and slightly rushed, seemed to hang in the air between you, taking you aback. As you stood there, blinking in surprise, memories of that time—a chapter from what now felt like another life—began to resurface.

Jackson was supposed to be a beacon of hope, a place to start anew, filled with the promise of stability after a life spent drifting. It was supposed to be your slice of normalcy, a dare to dream of piecing together a life from the remnants of what once was. 

However, dreams—and people—are fragile, easily shattered in a world that often leaves very little room for them. 

That’s why you had found it so hard to try and fit into the Jackson community — a place so different from any you’d known before. And despite throwing yourself wholeheartedly into trying to meld with the locals, the sense of belonging you so deeply had craved had remained perpetually beyond your grasp.

Polite smiles and courteous small talk had come in abundance, but the deeper, more genuine relationships—the feeling of truly being part of something—always slipped through your fingers. And as friendships and social circles solidified without you, you found yourself on the periphery, like a shadow lingering just beyond the light, always observing but never participating.

So, eventually, you stopped trying, settling into a solitary existence that was often too heavy to carry, yet oddly comforting in its own way.

Tommy’s earnest appeal snapped you back to the moment. “It would mean a lot to us if you could help out. We can’t offer much, but you’re welcome to use whatever supplies we have.” 

As his words settled in the air, you paused, blinking away the remnants of a daydream before responding, “Sorry, but you want me to cook… for your gathering?” There was no sharpness in your voice, only a hint of bemusement mixed with a trace of optimism, long buried under layers of solitude. “I wasn’t sure anyone even remembered that I used to bring food.”

“I can’t speak for everyone, but I definitely haven’t forgotten,” Tommy said, his laughter tinged with a self-deprecating note, as if he were recalling culinary attempts that were perhaps better left in the past. “That meatloaf of yours—every time I try my hand at cooking, it comes to mind. And your carrot cake? I still can’t figure out how you—”

His rant was abruptly sliced by a sharp voice, one that hadn't been part of the conversation until now.

"—Tommy, you done yet?"

The sudden interruption made you realise Tommy hadn't come alone. Your gaze shifted, trailing past him to land on an imposing figure leaned against Tommy’s truck, parked against the curb. 

Arms crossed over a broad chest, stretching the fabric of his jacket, stood Joel Miller—another face you recognized but didn’t really know. A man as intimidating as he was enigmatic.

With a resigned sigh, Tommy glanced back, his voice carrying a mix of irritation and patience. "Just a minute, Joel!" he exclaimed, louder than before, before turning back to you with an apologetic smile. "Sorry 'bout that. You know how Joel can be," he said, his grin sheepish as he acknowledged Joel's stubbornness.

You responded with a shake of your head, your tone laced with a playful curiosity. "Can't say that I do, but I'll take your word for it." 

Your words seemed to ignite a spark of realisation in Tommy, his expression shifting as if a new awareness had dawned on him. He paused, his gaze lingering on you a moment longer than expected, perhaps reconsidering the extent of your interactions with the townsfolk. And then, as if your exchange had unveiled something previously unseen, Tommy turned around to face his brother.

"Joel, get over here," he urged, his command softened by a newfound understanding. "Come say hello, don’t be rude." 

You smiled a small and tentative smile, but it didn’t reach your eyes. It was a mask worn too often, a shield against the realization of your own isolation, now reflected in Tommy’s eyes.

Joel Miller’s approach was measured, his posture shifting from the one of guarded stance to a more relaxed one as his arms fell to his sides. Crossing the distance, he cut an imposing figure that effortlessly dominated the space around him with his mere presence. As he neared, you managed only to offer him a muted greeting — your eyes having difficulties to hold his gaze. 

Still, he responded with a nod that was brief and somewhat brusque, offering a slight hint of recognition but little in the way of warmth. Stopping just short of the porch stairs, he tucked his hands in the pockets of his jeans before looking around.

You observed, almost in spite of yourself, as Joel’s attention methodically surveyed your surroundings, taking in details: from the neighboring houses shadowed in the dimming light to the promise of growth in your greenhouse, where the early shoots of peppers and tomatoes promised a future harvest. His scrutiny paused there, a silent acknowledgment of the small life burgeoning under your care, before shifting to the pile of wood designated for chopping, a chore left in anticipation of winter's departure.

When his eyes met yours again, they were piercing, unsettling in their intensity, almost as if he could see through the facade everyone else seemed to accept. This moment of connection, fleeting as it was, coupled with the fact that Joel Miller was undeniably an attractive man, sent an involuntary shiver through you. 

Thus, you quickly looked away, striving for composure— Joel’s eyes still locked onto you.

"Seems a bit chilly out here for standin' around, don't it? She’s probably cold, Tommy.” Joel's voice cut through the quiet, his statement more an observation than a question.

"Just a bit," you answered, your arms instinctively wrapping around yourself in a vain attempt to ward off the cold. “But it’s alright,” you quickly added, offering a dismissive half-smile to downplay your discomfort.

Joel then turned his attention to Tommy, his tone suggesting a mild impatience. “Think it’s about time you wrapped this up?” 

Tommy seemed caught off guard, his gaze flitting from Joel to you, as if weighing his next move. “I ain’t quite done here, Joel,” he responded after a brief pause, his attention momentarily shifting to a folded piece of paper he pulled from his jacket, scanning what appeared to be a list or some hastily jotted notes.

The air was growing heavier with silence; the kind that filled the gaps of unfinished conversation, and before you could stop yourself or second-guess your decisions, you ventured, “Why don’t you come in for a bit then? It’s warmer inside.”

Tommy seemed to be very eager to agree — his legs already moving forward in agreement, but Joel paused, a clear reluctance written across his features. He then opened his mouth, perhaps to voice his objections, but the look Tommy gave him—a mix of brotherly insistence and mild warning—cut him off. 

Despite his imposing stature, Joel navigated the threshold with a grace that seemed at odds with his size, deftly avoiding the door frame with a practiced ease.His shoulders came perilously close to the frame, yet he avoided it without seeming to try. There was a deliberate, almost respectful manner in the way he occupied the space, a silent recognition of his own bulk in the small, crammed interior.

Feeling a need to anchor yourself in the sudden closeness of the room, you rolled your shoulders, gently closing the door behind them. With a gesture towards the kitchen table, you offered a wordless invitation for them to sit, and Tommy, with a nod of thanks, took the seat you’d vacated as you pulled a chair next to him.

Joel, however, hesitated. Stood there for a moment, taking in the room with a thoughtful look, as if assessing its every corner and crevice. “I reckon I’ll stand, if you don’t mind,” he voiced when you shot him with a questioning look, his tone carrying a tone of politeness. “Don’t feel right settlin’ in when we won’t be staying long.” 

The moment he declined your offer to sit, Joel's attention wandered through the room — his focus soon zeroing in on a kitchen cabinet, its door slightly askew, betraying a battle with gravity and time. With a careful approach, he scrutinized the misaligned hinge, his touch deliberate yet tender, as if to reassure the inanimate object of his intention to do no further damage. 

Amidst this, you found yourself caught between two points of focus. Next to you, Tommy was speaking while going over the list, scribbled on sepia-toned paper, yet you couldn’t help but be drawn to Joel. His interaction with your lived-in kitchen space added a layer of warmth to its familiarity, making the room feel even more enclosed, more personal. 

Tommy, catching the shift in your attention, sighed—a sound tinged with resignation—and resettled in his seat, the wooden frame protesting with a creak.

"Joel, with your knee acting up, maybe you could lend a hand with these hinges instead of walking the beat?" Tommy suddenly suggested, glancing between you and Joel, a half-smile forming. “Seems like a fair exchange for a good meal, don’t you think?”

Your reaction was instinctive, fueled by a blend of pride and a deeply ingrained sense of independence. "Oh, that's not necessary at all," you found yourself saying quickly, the words laced with the kind of stubborn reluctance born from a long-held reluctance to depend on others.

Joel, a man whose economy of words often spoke volumes, didn't pause in his inspection of the cabinet. "I suppose I could swing by next week,” he responded gruffly. He didn't frame it as a question, but rather as a quiet declaration of intent, a commitment made without waiting for your consent. Turning to look back at you, his brown eyes searched for yours. "If you're up for it, that is."

You didn’t reply, just nodded, your gaze drifting back to the paper.

—

In the days after Joel and Tommy Miller's visit, time seemed to meld together, distinguishable only by the gentle shift from dawn to dusk and the routine movement of a red plastic marker across the grid of your wall calendar.

However, despite the blur of days, you found a way to push through, each task serving as a mere interlude to the anticipation of the weekend. And while Saturday had nothing particularly exciting to it, it was usually a day when you ventured out into town for supplies, this time not only for your own needs but also for Tommy’s get-together. 

Navigating the last icy patches on the sidewalks with a practiced ease, you turned onto your street where the familiar sight of Mrs. Clarke leaning against the fence her husband was mending greeted you. None of them was someone you interacted with, but you still offered a quick nod and a half-hearted smile, which Mr. Clarke returned with a courteous nod of his own, while Mrs. Clarke's eyes narrowed slightly in your direction as if you were a stranger. Which, in all fairness, you still were.

With your focus fixed ahead and the weight of the grocery bags shifting on your shoulder, you pressed on—only to come to an abrupt halt at the unexpected sight of Joel Miller in front of your home. Busy with an axe, he was rhythmically cutting the firewood you diligently ignored — the sizable, well-organized pile beside him signalling that he had been at it for quite some time before you arrived.

"Joel?" you called out, your voice a mixture of surprise and a faint nervousness. "Wasn't expecting you today."

Or at all, to be entirely honest.

He stopped his work, placing the axe against the ground as he turned to you. There was a moment of awkwardness flickering in his posture at your evident surprise, but he covered it up with a clear of his throat. 

"Yeah, well, was just passin' through," he replied, his voice a deep, familiar rumble, softened slightly by that southern lilt that seemed to ease the harshness of his appearance. "Thought I'd check on those kitchen cabinets for you."

His offer, made a week ago, had seemed inconsequential at the time. Yet, seeing him there, ready to help, only reinforced the idea that Joel was a man more of action than words.

Approaching him, the bags suddenly felt heavier, anchoring you to the ground. "You really didn't have to do this," you admitted, your voice revealing the turmoil within. "I had planned to deal with it later today, actually."

Joel leaned back against the axe handle, his gaze locking with yours. "Don't worry 'bout it," he offered. “Ain't no trouble at all, and I like stayin' busy. It’ll give you time to focus on other things."

You swallowed, momentarily at a loss for words, and it was only when Joel returned the axe to its resting place against the log pile and straightened up that you blinked back to reality, motioning for him to follow you. As he ascended the few steps to your porch and trailed after you inside, his shadow stretched over you, and for a second you found yourself wondering about just how tall and broad was he, really?

Once inside, you went straight to the kitchen table, setting the bags atop of it—eyes widening at the sight of a mess of blankets, pillows, and clutter around the room that had accumulated over the few days — an inevitable result of your habit of living most of your life in one room to conserve wood.

The panic rose inside of you, and you quickly moved in front of the small couch you called your bed, as if your frame itself would cover the chaos of your existence. 

Luckily, Joel didn’t seem to notice any of it. Or at least, he was gentleman enough to ignore it.

"Where do you need me to start?" He broke the silence easily as you nervously scratched your forehead before pointing to the cabinets hanging slightly askew, the wood swollen from years of neglect and moisture.

"Those have been giving me trouble the most. At some point I should probably tear everything down, but for now, it’s as good as it gets.”

Joel nodded, setting his tool bag down with a clunk, before beginning to inspect the cabinets — his fingers tracing along the wood, assessing each hinge and panel.

Folding your bedding, you walked to a small storage chest to Joel's left, setting it inside before closing it gently with a glance towards Joel.

"Would you like some coffee?" You asked, hoping to dispel the growing silence, but much to your disappointment, there was no answer.

Joel had already zeroed in on the cabinet, his focus entirely on the stubborn hinge.

Despite the lingering, unanswered offer and the faint echo of rejection, ringing inside your head, you went ahead with brewing the coffee, despite often preferring tea.

You didn’t dislike coffee, but you knew how scarce and difficult it was to source it.

Soon enough, the rich, comforting scent filled the kitchen, and without much effort, you poured the steaming dark brew into two mugs before walking over and quietly setting one of the mugs next to him. There was a second where you simply hovered around, like a fly on wall, observing as his gaze shifted with a momentary glance towards the warm beverage before his attention was pulled back to the cabinet. Though he didn’t say a word, the brief pause and a barely noticeable nod served as his silent gratitude.

Not wanting to dwell too much on his silence, you turned your attention to the groceries — the clicking of cans and jars, creating a rhythmic backdrop to the occasional squeak of hinges being expertly tended to.

Then, out of the blue, Joel’s gruff voice cut through the silence, causing you to startle slightly.

“So, what's it gonna be?” he asked, still not looking at you—face contorted in concentration as he tightened a screw with practiced precision.

“Huh?”

“Tommy’s and Maria’s party. What are you cookin’ up?” he clarified as he opened and closed the cabinet door, testing his work.

“Oh,” you breathed out, rolling your shoulders in a nervous gesture. “Supplies aren’t too plentiful, what with winter and all. I’m thinking a stew and nice bread would do,” you replied, then added with a hint of uncertainty and a quick glance towards him. “Still not sure about the dessert though.”

For a moment or two, you hoped that he would say something, give his input, but when he didn’t, you nodded to yourself, finding a loose piece of yarn on your pullover before wrapping it around your index finger.

Joel worked for another few minutes before straightening up and stepping back to inspect his handwork, wiping his hands on his jeans — a look of satisfaction briefly crossing his features.

Clearing your throat, you decided to break the silence, yet again, “Looks like you´ve fixed it. Thank you.”

“No problem at all,” he replied smoothly. “Just need a bit of tweakin’, is all.”

Before you could stop yourself, you spoke again. “Care for a refill?” you asked, lifting the pot with a somewhat trembling hand, not expecting to see Joel nod. Filling up his mug, you hesitated for a moment before speaking again, “Perhaps you’d like to sit down for a bit?”

Joel’s silent agreement and decision to sit down took you by surprise. His long legs stretched out slightly, relaxed in their posture as he got comfortable. You, on the other hand, was all but relaxed—posture ever so rigid, cradling your coffee mug on your lap so tight that you thought you’d break it.

An awkward silence filled the space between you as you scolded yourself mentally. You had invited him to sit, yet now, faced with his quiet presence, you were at a loss for words.

The quiet stretched to the point that it felt like it was the third person, sitting between you, until Joel shooed it away with a question, “You live alone?”

His gaze was steady as he watched you over the rim of his mug, taking a sip.

“Yeah,” you replied, feeling slightly exposed under his straightforward question.

“Any family?” he prodded gently.

You hesitated, feeling the bitterness lace your tongue before the words even left your mouth. “Had a mother and an older brother. They both passed away, ten years ago.”

“I’m sorry, darlin’,” he responded, his voice softening, infused with empathy.

It wasn’t solely the memory of your family that stirred emotions within you, but also the unexpected warmth in his words. Attempting to stifle this feeling, you shrugged, uncertain how to accept his condolences or the surprising familiarity of his tone.

So, you kept sipping your coffee, your mind struggling to find the right words, but only for a while because Joel suddenly continued.

“Life's been full of tough turns. Lost my folks young, too, around the time everything changed… you know, with the outbreak and all.” As he spoke, his gaze seemed to drift to a place far away, and you suddenly remembered the fleeting stories you’ve heard in passing, some weeks after Joel made his appearance in Jackson.

“At least we’re here and still alive.”

Joel hummed in agreement. “And what did you say, how long have you been in Jackson?”

The question hung in the air as you looked at him, both of you aware that you hadn’t mentioned it before, but his curiosity seemed genuine. So, with a glance at the calendar next to the door, you did a quick mental maths. “It was four years last week,” you responded.

“Four years?” Joel echoed, his voice tinged with a hint of disbelief. “Somehow, I don’t remember seeing you around much before.”

“If I were you, I wouldn’t remember seeing me either, so it's okay," you replied—lips curling into a faint smile before continuing, “I tend to keep to myself,” you admitted quietly, not quite ready to venture into the reasons behind that decision.

Joel nodded slowly. “Guess that makes two of us then,” he said with a slight smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he was aware of how handsome he was when he was smiling.

His appearance, much like his demeanor, was rugged and weathered but there was a certain kind of comfort in it. His eyes, a soft brown, held a depth that suggested that he was someone who had seen much and lost more.

Startled and ever so ashamed by your own wandering thoughts, you looked away as you placed your mug on the table, instead reaching for a torn kitchen towel before proceeding to fold it in your lap.

And it was only when you felt a weight in the air shift subtly that you looked up only to find his eyes on you.

He was observing you—gaze intense and searching, as if trying to read you, and you couldn’t help but feel a wave of nervousness wash over you.

The intensity of his gaze was unnerving, yet there was gentleness there; a quiet understanding that seemed to reach out to you. His broad shoulders, the result of years of physical labor and survival only added to his imposing presence.

Suddenly feeling self-conscious under his gaze, you shifted in your seat — the kitchen towel in your hands now a convenient excuse to look away.

“Is something wrong?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, betraying the unease his attention had sparked in you.

“No, nothin’s wrong,” he answered in a reassuring tone — the corners of his eyes crinkling slightly, softening his rugged features. “Just thinkin’, is all.”

The nervousness that was building up on the inside, suddenly resurfaced, pushing you to your feet in an abrupt, restless motion that seemed to bring Joel back from his thoughts—his eyes tracking your movements as you began to fuss over a spotless table with your kitchen towel.

Without much ado, he also rose from his chair—the action effortless despite his solid build that quickly filled the small kitchen. “Well, I think I should be headin’ off,” he said in a low, even tone.

You nodded briskly, following after him as he made his way to the door — the floorboards creaking under your steps.

"Thanks again, for the wood chopping and fixing the cabinet," you said, once Joel stepped out on the dimly lit porch.

He gave you a nonchalant wave, dismissing the thanks with an ease. "It was nothin'," he assured you. Then, after a short pause, he added, "Might want to keep warm inside. Nights are still cold."

His concern, lightly voiced but sincere, brought a small, involuntary smile to your face. You nodded, feeling a warmth that had little to do with the temperature. "Will do. Take care, Joel.".

He acknowledged your words with a quiet nod and turned away, disappearing into the evening shadows. You lingered for a moment, watching his retreating figure before stepping back into the warmth of your home, closing the door gently behind you.

[webblogers1]

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[lazysublimeengineer]

Hello. Let me exposed this kind of reader who is a coward and toxic to the fanfic authors.

Usually, when I received this kind of reviews in the past it doesn't faze me and I just don't care in general or if I'm in a happy mood I don't have any qualms of obliterating them online.

But what I can't tolerate is these kind of readers shitting on the other author's work just because they want to and abusing their freedom and rights to be critical of their story just because they don't like something in there.

As a fellow writer and author myself let me tell you this to you readers and to this cowardly reader who hides being a guest reviewer in this platform. I have an intention to respond to that story but since I can't find it anymore there (most likely that it was deleted), I'll be giving a piece of my mind:

As an author, it is very delightful and inspirational to receive a simple commentary or review to the works that we publish on an online platform. We appreciate it really. It fuels us to share more stories to the fandom itself. Now if you don't like it or if it doesn't cater to your taste then that's fine. Not all readers share the same taste as you. If you leave an objective critique about our work then that's great. BUT TO OFFER A DISGUSTING COMMENTARY ABOUT HOW DISAPPOINTING YOUR FIC IS AND WILL STOP SUPPORTING THEM THAT'S WHERE I DRAW THE LINE. I don't care if I lose a reader or whatever. I'm publishing stories since the dawn of a lifetime but to see privileged readers being a BULLY TO OTHER WRITERS SUCH AS MYSELF I WON'T TURN A BLIND EYE TO IT AND I DON'T HAVE ANY PROBLEMS OF OBLITERATING YOU ONLINE. Words are powerful. It can make or break a person's morale and mental health.

To wtf (Guest) reader, if you're reading this, your response exposes you on how much of a moron you are. The day you humiliated an author online because they decided to write an ISARIN fic on BL fandom is the day you lose your right to say to me to STOP BEING NOSY AND MIND MY OWN BUSINESS. BULLY READERS LIKE YOU ARE ONE OF THE REASONS WHY SOME OF THE AUTHORS ARE HESITANT TO SHARE THEIR FICS BECAUSE OF YOUR DISGUSTING WORDS. If you're abusing your freedom of speech to shit on a fellow author like me, then I'm using my right as well to EXPOSED BULLIES LIKE YOU ONLINE.

Lastly, to the other readers who are reading this. Please refrain from being a reader like this who doesn't READ A PROPER TAGGING AND AUTHOR'S NOTES. It's not our obligation to cater to your whims and needless whines just because you don't like the story and failed to read the taggings and warnings first. FANFIC AUTHORS DO NOT GAIN ANY MONETARY VALUE FROM SHARING THEIR FICS ONLINE. We write because we want to. And not to satisfy the other reader's taste. There's a back button there for a reason. I won't be revealing that story online and the author to still provide a confidentiality to them.

I know there's a ton of toxic readers like wtf (Guest) and I can't probably stop them with a post like this but I want to spread awareness and kindly request to stop being an idiot like this reader.

[good-beanswrites]

I was thinking of Hallucination and LCSYS again. Would you like to write something about what Mahiru was doing instead of performing at Hallucination?

Ah, yes!! In my mind she was there and everything was perfect 😭 But it was super fun to think of what/who could be convincing to her... I know Miho Okasaki had another performance at the time, so I tried to keep things generally in line with that. Even if I wasn't writing for you specifically, I know there's only one character who could talk Mahiru into it... (I kept getting hung up on pov/little details/transitions but I think I just need to post this as is lol 😂)

“Mikoto-kun!” Mahiru cupped the phone close to her at the sound of his voice. “Mahiru has big news! You’re the first to know!”

“Ah, is it okay if he’s the second to know?”

“Oh! Hey, John-kun!” 

As much as Mikoto was protective over Red’s name, he himself always encouraged the prisoners to call him John. It was something like an affectionate nickname at this point; an inside joke between him and the people who had experienced so much with him. Well, and also the hundreds of thousands of adoring fans that called him that…

“I can tell you! Oooh, Mahiru just got the call a minute ago!”

“What is it?”

“Do you remember that group holding the mental health talks from a few months ago? They were asking permission to use my videos at one of their events?”

“I remember.”

She felt her cheeks blush at the way he said it – of course he remembers, she hadn’t stopped talking about it for a month straight.

“Well, they’re holding a biiiiig presentation this time. Lots of smart professionals and famous influencers will be there!” She listed off some of the guest list. John wouldn’t know a lot of the beauty and health influencers, but maybe he’d recognize them from her many prior conversations. She’d said time and time again what an inspiration some of these people were during her life before, and turning it around now. “I mean, she’s Mahiru’s hero!!”

“That’s great! So, are they going to play your videos there, too? That’s –”

“– They want Mahiru to come and talk!” She squealed, unable to contain it anymore. Her feet danced a few steps around her kitchen. “They asked if I could be one of the speakers!”

“That’s amazing!”

“I’d get to talk about my life, and then answer some questions after. I’d get to talk to all the guests, and the other speakers! Can you believe it, John-kun? Me, meeting them in person!”

“I’m so proud of you!” She could hear the smile in his voice.

She took a deep inhale. “Mahiru is going to turn it down, of course.”

There was a pause as he processed the statement in her cheery tone. 

“...Eh!?”

“It’s right when Jackalope’s big show is scheduled. They couldn’t have planned it any worse!” She laughed. It was, after all, amusing at how poorly the timing had worked out. “It took all of us to persuade Fuuta-kun to agree to come, there’s no way I can back out now.”

“That’s different – he had nothing better to do, and you have this awesome opportunity!”

“No, no,” she shook her head, even if he couldn’t see the gesture. She kept her smile up. She had to.

“What about rescheduling? Or maybe you can travel between both?”

“It’s impossible, they’ve already started selling tickets for both. But there’s no need to worry, I’m going to have so much fun with you all!”

“It was such an honor to be asked, and you deserve that moment in the spotlight – yourself.”

“Oh, Mahiru could never do something so selfish! My mind is made up!”

There was another pause. If there was one thing everyone had learned about Mahiru, it was that it took quite a lot to un-make her mind, once set on something. 

“Alright. Can you do me one favor, though?”

“Of course! Anything for you, John-kun!”

“Don’t call the others yet. Take a few days to think about it. Really think about it. Actually… do tell Amane about it.”

“Amane-chan…?”

“But wait to tell everyone else.”

She pouted her lips. “But Mahiru was so excited to tell everybody…”

John gave a small laugh on the other end. “I know. Just try to wait a little bit.”

“I will, for your sake…”

“Trust me, it’s for yours.”

—

She told Amane that night, peering into her room. The girl was separating some clothes, laying out her marching band uniform for the big game coming up. Amane responded similarly to John, her excitement turning to complete shock, even when Mahiru added her rational explanation. She started going through possible solutions, all of which Mahiru had already ruled out.

Finally, she asked, “why don’t you go to that event instead? You’ve gotten so much attention through Milgram, but this is something brand new. It’s something that you feel very passionately about.”

“You’re as silly as John-kun! If it was something helpful I’d think about it, but it’s just selfish. Just an excuse for Mahiru to be the center of attention, and meet people I want to meet. It would be so shameful to choose that over performing with you all.”

“But…” Amane’s expression was conflicted. 

“No buts!” Mahiru made a fluttery gesture to the uniform laid out on the bed. “You wouldn’t want to let down your band, would you? It’s like that! Now, dinner will be ready in just a minute, so hurry on down. I made your favorite tonight, and a special dessert in honor of your game~”

—

“Mahiru-san?”

Mahiru looked up from her phone. She hurriedly closed the social media app she’d been scrolling through, checking on who would be attending the presentation. She’d read her favorite blog’s post about it about a dozen times, so it didn’t matter that she closed out of the tab. “Oh, Amane-chan, you’re still up?”

Amane got right to it. She said the words as if she’d been choosing them carefully beforehand. Having helped her prepare for school speeches, Mahiru knew that was exactly what she’d done. 

“I think you should go to the presentation. Sometimes it’s okay if you disappoint a big group, if you’re doing something kind for yourself. You yourself told me that wasn’t selfish. You told me that if the group really loves you, they’ll be happy for you. We know you’re not selfish, and that you do deserve to be the center of attention. When is the last time you did something completely for yourself – not also helping another?”

Mahiru gaped at her. She scrambled for an answer, knowing the girl would have a rebuttal for each thing that crossed her mind. Seeing her point was a success, Amane continued. 

“I will miss you, of course. And Fuuta-san will definitely say something hot-headed. But I think… I know everyone will be very happy for you. No one will be upset, because they’ll see how much this means to you. Because we love you, Mahiru-san.”

Following some bursting into tears and lots of hugging, Mahiru stepped into the kitchen to make a phone call. “Jackalope-san! Mahiru has some good news and some bad news…”