#i’m just talking 2003 mostly

[mayonnaise-sock]

Would anyone be interested in talking about astro boy with me

[vicknit]

I just think maybe a story abt Mento using the DP’s adoption of Gar to try to force him to rejoin the DP after he left for the teen titans (and the TT subsequently trying to get him back) would be a bit cool a bit silly. Just imagine Gar having this thing he always considered a great favor weaponized against him and used to take him away from his new family, better family. Do u see my vision

[kxlitz]

omg love your writing its so GOOD

do you think you could do some more headcanons about growing up with devilsh

np if you cant have a good day or night ❤

★ Growing up with Devilish & Being Tokio Hotel’s 5th member ★ pt.2

AN: I’VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE !!

I decided to merge the requests because they overlap with one another and simply work. I hope this satisfies you !! I’m writing this as a part 2 to my first « Growing up with Devilish/Tokio Hotel » post since it just works!

Warning! Underage drinking and Smoking,sexual themes touched non explicitly, that’s about it. Friendly reminder it’s Tokio Hotel we’re talking about

≛ This is set in 2003 til 2005 right before the release of ddm as it deserves it’s own post.

~ Enjoy your read ~ (not proof read I’m sorry I had to get smth out of the drafts)

Bill was so excited to land that Starsearch audition, he came running to your house once he got the confirmation.

It’s 8pm on a school day and there’s a frantic Bill knocking at your door.

Or window, if it happens to be on the first floor.

I love the idea of your room being on the first floor, that way the boys can sneak in for silly night-ins discussing about the future of your band or watching some disney movies on your VHS player.

Or sometimes you’d sneak in beer, weed, all that good stuff that 12/13 year olds should not be doing but you did it anyway.

Your bedroom was a hideout and safe place, especially for Bill who found so much comfort in you.

The days following to Bill’s audition were spent practising his singing and putting up a killer outfit that would shock everyone.

Not many people had faith in him, but I’m sure you were certain he’d make it.

So when a letter got home after a few weeks saying that he was amongst the best 16 in the country, you sticked out your tongue and middle finger up to the other 3 boys. “I told you so”

When it came the time to interview the band for Bill’s section of the show, you guys knew you’d have to be your best.

Bill helped out picking your outfits for sure. You needed to look cool for the camera. Maybe this would be a breakthrough moment?

You even got to do Georg’s hair, much to his annoyance.

It felt glorious, there was a television team in Loitsche and it was just for you guys. You were the kings of the town for a few hours.

Charlotte, the twins’s mom allows you to come with her to the show. You were so excited to see Bill onstage! (The fandom knew Mami Kaulitz as Simone but she legally deleted that name and only kept Charlotte) (from now on I’ll only refer to her as Mami Kaulitz though)

Once Bill came on stage you knew he was meant to be there, and you dreamed for your band to be able to shine like this by his side.

You were clapping and singing along so happily, the crowd loved him.

The same can’t be said about one particular judge.

When Bill lost he came running into your arms. Poor boy was destroyed. You only had a couple minutes to gather his things and leave so while his grandma comforted him you helped out Mami Kaulitz at getting everything together.

Standing awkwardly by a crying Bill, his grandma and a bunch of strangers while waiting for his mom to finish talking to the host is definitely not your best memory.

Needless to say the ride back home was silent.

Everyone was so proud of Bill nonetheless.

In the following weeks you guys mostly practiced your melodies with the band and tried out new riffs. Bill was quite depressed and refused to get out of his house.

Not even a new outfit, new song or a cool Barbie doll could convince him to get out.

You would physically have to get in and drag him out of bed by his ankles.

Once you yanked him too hard and he fell right on his butt, knocking his head while at it. Tom was wheezing in the back while you tried to help Bill up, avoiding to burst at his misery.

Bill has always been arrogant, so the loss on Starsearch was a big bruise to his ego. You would have to help him rebuild his self-esteem.

Dressing him up prettily and doing his makeup.

Bill would imitate your makeup techniques, he finds you fascinating.

This is how his iconic black eyeshadow look was born.

Overtime it all got better and you guys went back to the routine.

In a way, you’re the glue that sticks everyone together in the band. For sure you’d be a pillar the boys rely on.

Whenever things don’t seem to go the right way you tend to climb on the rooftop and just talk the night away with Georg. You two can have the longest and brightest (sometimes not so) conversations man has known.

Back to the “storyline” Starsearch was not useless in the slightest. Bill’s voice, the band’s rogue look in the interview and the angelic beauty of one of it’s members caught a talent scout’s attention.

Sometime between 2002 and 3 you guys had recorded your Devilish demo, that along with Bill’s appearance in the show had gained you some newfound popularity in town.

Things were still hard but, at least they knew those five losers had talent.

It was a hard and exhausting process til you guys finally signed with Universal. But! Before you could record an album, you all needed some proper training. So during the summer holidays you were accommodated into an apartment with everything you may need.

Now imagine an apartment with 5 young teens living by themselves.

Gustav was in charge of the cooking because if anyone else touched the kitchen you would burn the place down.

Tom has managed to burn water. Do not trust him.

We all know Gustav is a total chef now, but back then let’s be honest.. he could make instant ramen noodles and sandwiches. So most of the time you guys settled on ordering junk.

You guys had sleeping arrangements but it never stopped you from all ending in one room playing video games til the late hours of the night or drinking til you passed out.

Nowadays you guys sometimes cringe at everything you were doing at such a young age.

Parties were strictly forbidden in the apartment so you would all sneak to the nearest park to raise hell. There were no parents to run after you and barely any surveillance around. You guys were free.

You once got so wasted that on the way back home Georg crashed somebody’s window. You still wonder how you never got caught.

There were nights that the place would get so cold that you all ended up as a pile when it came time to sleep.

You didn’t stay like that all night though. You’d wake up coddled against Tom’s leg on the floor as he took up the entire couch. Georg was sprawled on the bed, Gustav rested on an armchair somewhere and Bill made himself a blanket cocoon.

Bill and you still have a very special friendship, so some nights you would both get into the blanket cocoon in the living room and watch some vhs tapes of Nena, Queen and Bowie’s concerts.

Oh and Titanic, for sure. Bill loves the film.

He confessed to you that he was crushing on both Rose and Jack (Bill actually said this)

If you happen to also be in the lgbtq community, you’re in for a queer ride when watching films with Bill.

ESPECIALLY, Labyrinth.

You washed Georg’s hair in the sink once. You never talk about it.

The five of you are oddly comfortable around one another so there was no shame in that.

Nor in walking around barely dressed, making the grossest jokes and acts and being complete degenerates.

The fact Bill mentioned in his book that they’d collectively jack off still haunts me to this day.

You just let them be.

Or join if you’re drunk enough, you be you bestie.

You’re not excluded from the after hour porn binge watching though, that’s like watching the news for you bunch of hormonal brats.

Anything totally inappropriate for your age aside, the five of you have such a beautiful bond. It’s amazing to watch you go.

Of course the twins are a step ahead, but it doesn’t change the fact that as a band and as friends you’re so connected to one another.

You can have more than one soulmate, and the five of you are linked together for sure.

Ok i’m being cheesy.

I’m sorry but Tom was the type to ask you to make out to “practice”

He likes to snatch your bras (if you wear them) and mock you while holding it against his chest.

“Georg next time you take a big shit open the windows and spray there’s a lady living in here” “Look I’m y/n and i’m the best musician in this band” “Pull up your pants you looser”

In return, you have hit him with a bra. How is you weaponize it? I have no idea but you certainly did.

Gustav and you were always the ones to do groceries because if you let the other ones do it, they would come back with anything BUT groceries.

A new turtle for georg, king sized box of condoms, cigarettes, a kiss the cook apron, supposedly haunted doll they found in the trash and a pack of hot wheels toys.

Gustav might be the dad yet it doesn’t take his chaos away from him. He chased you guys around the apartment with a water gun screaming like a madman.

He drums on bowls while cooking it’s cute.

You genuinely had the time of your lives.

But you can’t forget that you were located there for a reason.

Writing music.

Turning this into a series! I’m honestly way too into this idea not to cover the band’s evolution in it’s entirety. The inclusion of this fifth member is genuinely very fun to write and brainstorm about! I’ll mostly write them as the rhythm guitarist as it’s logically the easiest position to sneak into the band. As well as I must say that I am definitely more comfortable writing afab readers but no worries I can and certainly will do male reader <3

See you ~

- Meryl <3

[dysfunctional-doodle]

Hello. I hope I'm not bothering you, but I was wondering what's your personal headcanons on the Bayverse Turtles? I may have spelled headcanons wrong, so correct me if I am wrong.

(Dude I always spell headcanons wrong I got you)

Oooh hc time! Random stuff really, but:

Mikey has ADHD and Autism. I mention it very briefly in my tmnt chat fic, but I read a fanfic with this idea and it just fits so much for me. Especially the ADHD, which I think the creator of the movie confirmed somewhere anyway?

Donnie has chronic pain in his upper back/spine area, specifically where the shoulders are. To me, he just seems to have a more awkward, uneven build compared to his brothers - he is thinner and taller, yet his shell is still huge. So i kind of had this hc floating around. Idk if other people like it but eh. Cant be a nerd without a bad back I guess

Mikey and Donnie are definitely the younger brothers. Mikey being almost a full year after Donnie, and Donnie being about half a year after Raph and Leo (who are the same age)

Raph knits. Basically confirmed anyway. Specifically he learnt to knit after they were struck by a particularly harsh winter and needed blankets - Raph, being the only one that wasn’t too weak/in hibernation mode at the time, learnt how to knit to try and protect his family when he couldn’t fight the enemy with punches and kicks. He still knits blankets for them every year when the winter grows cold. They keep every one, so they have the comfiest beds

They share a room. 4 giant turtles crammed into one room with rickety bunk beds and hammocks is very funny to imagine

Leo loves romance movies. In particular the TV movie ones.

Leo had a similar attitude to Raph when he was a child until Splinter went missing for a few days whilst scavenging for food (he was fine in the end…mostly. A hasty escape from a warehouse caused him to injure his leg and be forced to hide until he could gain enough strength to return to his sons). When seeing his brothers grow hungry and scared over the few days he took charge, becoming much more of the Eldest Brother figure.

Mikey idolises Leo. He wants to be just like him one day. He thinks he’s the coolest. (It makes Leo’s comment about his head “always being in the clouds” hurt so much more)

Mikey gets a Klunk eventually, saved from being drowned. Her siblings were not as lucky (yes, I am very much writing a fic for this)

Donnie’s favourite pass time is computer science/programming/IT based activities, like how 2012 Donnie seems to enjoy chemistry the most and 2003 Donnie leans heavily towards engineering.

Leo loves house plants

Raph hates house plants

Donnie is blind as hell without his glasses and spent a lot of his younger years unable to see much. Once he could finally see he suddenly was given a world with endless possibilities and potential

Leo is terrible at technology. I’m talking 80 year old woman bad. He always clicks on scam ads and blows up computers. Something just doesn’t click with him and technology

They all have heavy turtle instincts due to them, like 2003, being just turtles rather than a mix of human dna. This causes them to have instincts and qualities turtles have such as retreating into their shells, brumating (at least partially), chirping, etc.

Donnie has a major sweet tooth

Raph can’t stand most sweet things

As kids, they would spend most their time looking at the human world and pretending they were with them.

Donnie is autistic, and has a lot of stims when he is happy that involve chittering and chirps.

Leo cheats at every video game/board game they play due to the eldest sibling advantage

Mikey loves to draw his own comics

Their Christmas hip hop album is fire

Raph is actually the cook, and is quite good at it. Mikey always burns things or they are undercooked because he’s too impatient, Donnie experiments and Leo blows everything up

That’s all for now!

[from-the-clouds]

texas sun - joel miller x f! reader - vol. vi

series masterlist | series playlist | writing masterlist | previous chapter |

chapter summary: you grow closer with sarah, and also with joel... pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader words: 5.2k chapter warnings: SMUT, 18+ ONLY - oral sex (m receiving). alcohol consumption. Some angst, but mostly fluff, references to divorces/getting remarried/stepparents. anxious thoughts. a/n: this chapter is probably the least heavy. s/o to @ay0nha for letting me yell at you about it, as always. lots of character/relationship/backstory for both joel and reader. i give reader a childhood nickname in this story, but it's not her actual name. also i made up a backstory for joel because he deserves it. hope you enjoy!

-June 5th, 2003-

“I think you missed a spot.”

“Yeah, that’s because you won’t hold still.”

Sarah scolds you for what feels like the hundredth time since you sat down. You feel a bit like a rambunctious child, and not so much a grown woman who has over fifteen years on her with the way she’s talking to you. To keep from giggling, you press your lips together tightly.

“You’re the one who begged to do this.”

“I did not,” she says, lacing mock offense into her voice – even with her head tilted down so you can’t see her mouth, you can tell she’s smiling. 

Sarah’s bent over your kitchen table, across from you, holding your thumb between two of her fingers. Meticulously, she’s painting a layer of pink, glittery polish on your nails. It’s been awhile since you started, and the near-suffocating chemical fumes of acetone and nail polish had grown so intense you’d already made her turn on the fan and open the window above your sink. It wasn’t really helping. And she’s got her face so close to your hand – laser focused – you’re a little concerned she’s going to poke herself in the eye. But you don’t dare correct her. This is a weekly ritual. Every Thursday night, you give each other manicures. It’s far more important to her, however.

“Oh my god, relax your fingers, you’re so rigid,” she reprimands you again.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, a bit sheepish. You’ve been anxious, the energy having worked its way out to all your extremities, apparently. 

To be fair, you could do without this. You’ve never really cared about having your nails done growing up, and still don’t. They’ll look good for about two to three business days, and then they’ll chip. It’s always this way, regardless of what topcoat she puts on that claims it will make your nails last forever – maybe you’re just too rough with your hands. However, it’s the one thing Sarah doesn’t give you grief about, maybe because hers always chip, too. 

You keep letting her do it, though. Partly because she likes it so much – and it hasn’t gotten any easier to say no to her. The other part is reminded of what it’s like to be a kid again. When you were first sent away to school, you always kept your nails painted - a small act of rebellion, of self-expression after being forced into the same uniform day after day. When you’d come home on breaks you’d beg your brother to paint his nails, run down the hall after him with a bottle of polish. Vincent would never let you, but he would always find a compromise, which was usually a walk through Central Park, and paying for you to ride on the carousel. He’d stand off to the side, waving each time you passed. In those moments, you liked to pretend that things were normal, that there wasn’t a dark cloud lingering over you both. Because even then, you’d known. On the walk home, Vincent would let you hook your mittened hand in the crook of his elbow, and you’d tilt your head all the way back to look at the tops of the buildings, the sun poking through the clouds.

Sarah draws back from your hand, then releases it delicately to the tabletop, placing the brush back in the nail polish bottle. “There,” she says, screwing on the lid. You both lean forward to admire her work. “I’m getting better aren’t, I?”

“You definitely are,” you look at the obnoxious color – Aurora Berry-alis. It’s the exact opposite of anything you’d pick out for yourself, but you’ve been surprised at the compliments you’ve been getting at work from your coworkers whenever you are going over contracts or pointing out revisions. If anything, you think it might make them pay closer attention when you talk. You nod at Sarah appreciatively. “They look good.”

“I think you’re getting better, too,” she places her hands atop the table alongside yours, so you can compare. You’d painted hers the same color, because you always let her choose. Well, it’s less that you let her, and more that she tells you, and you know better than to argue. The first time she’d painted them, and you’d suggested a coat of clear, she had given you so much grief about how boring you were, that you had given in and let her do whatever she’d wanted. There is nothing more terrifying than a teenage girl thinking you are lame. 

“It’s always easier to paint someone else’s,” you answer. 

Sarah leans forward, and frowns when her eyes land on your thumbnail, the one with the scab at the base of it. “You really need to stop picking at your cuticles.”

“I can’t help it,” you say sheepishly. “It’s a bad habit.” Particularly when stressed, you want to add, but you keep it to yourself.

“Well, it needs to stop,” she says pointedly, before planting her hands on the table and standing up. “I’m gonna get a ginger ale. Do you want me to get you anything?”

“Yeah, grab me one, too,” you blow on your fingers so they dry faster. 

Sarah disappears behind you, and you hear her rummaging through your fridge. “Do you not eat? Your fridge is basically empty.”

It’s only when she mentions it that you recall. “I do, I just forgot to go to the store this weekend.”

“How do you forget to buy food for yourself?”

“I’ve been busy.”

Sarah groans, and a few of your cabinets open and slam shut. “There’s no food here.”

“Oh my god,” you laugh. “I pretty much only buy stuff for you anyways, at this rate you might as well start chipping in on the grocery bill.”

“You sound like my dad.”

At the mention of Joel, you stiffen. 

Things have been a bit of a blur for the past few weeks. Between both of your work schedules, it’s been difficult to see one another, and even when you’re free – it has to be when Sarah’s away, which doesn’t happen often. And if she’s not in her own house, the second most likely place for her to be is at yours – so that makes it even more complicated. And both of you have agreed that she can’t find out. Because of that, you’ve only seen Joel a handful of times. 

“How is he?” you ask, nonchalantly. It’s a question you have asked her a hundred times before, just like you’ve asked after her best friend from school, Jennifer, or her grandparents, her Uncle Tommy – anyone from her life she talks about regularly. For some reason, you’re still expecting Sarah to hear these three words and sense that you’re not telling her something.

“He’s good,” she says, rustling through boxes. “Busy.” 

Yeah….busy. You could laugh when you think of the absurdity of the situation as a whole. There’s not a chapter in any of your self-help books that could teach you how to properly navigate it. So you’re left to figure it out for yourself, and hope you can without inflicting any permanent damage on her psyche. 

It makes you kind of nauseous actually. You knew her first. You were closer with her, first. It feels like a betrayal – and you’ve done enough of that in your life. This was supposed to be a way to start over, to do the right thing, but the sickness follows wherever you go.  You can’t stop it. What would happen if she found out? Would she be angry, mad, disgusted? She likes you, but as far as she knows, you aren’t romantically involved with her father. And that would certainly change things. 

Where it really gets problematic – you like Joel. So much more than you had expected. Well, maybe you’d been expecting it a little but not….like this. Of course, you know better than to be hopeful. Everything is still tentative, new. You’re figuring it out. It’s nice, at least, to savor the feeling while you have it, because it’s something you have felt so rarely.

All that considered, keeping it from her objectively is the right thing to do – for now. At least, that’s how you justify it to yourself.

“Actually he, uh, has been on a coupla dates lately,” Sarah returns to sit with a bag of stale Doritos and two ginger ales

“Really?” you ask, quirking an eyebrow, pretending this is new information. 

Sarah nods, and is careful to open both cans with the tip of a butter knife she brought over, so as not to chip her freshly painted nails. She speaks so nonchalantly, there’s no way she suspects anything. 

You test the waters. “How do you feel about that?”

“What are you, my guidance counselor?” 

You laugh first, and then she joins in, delighted by her clever joke. Once it fades, she surprises you by sobering up, quickly. “But uh….I don’t feel any way about it…I usually don’t care unless he introduces me to whoever he’s with.” 

“Oh yeah,” you say. “I remember when my dad did that. Always weird, right?”

“Always,” she repeats, sounding relieved that you understand. “But it doesn’t happen often. I think he’s careful. But things have just never felt….right. With any of them.”

“What, like, they weren’t nice?” 

“No, just….I could tell they didn’t really care…” she says. “About me….”

You want to tell her that’s not true. But you’d only be speaking for yourself, and this isn’t about you. 

“What about you?” she asks, and you realize you’ve been frowning. “Did you get along with your dad’s girlfriends when you first met them?”

“I mean, it wasn’t so much a meeting as it was my father introducing us and saying ‘Pixie, Meredith is going to be your stepmother,' and then that was that."

“Your stepmother’s name was really Meredith?” Sarah asks incredulously. “Like in The Parent Trap?”

You consider this, the realization hitting. “Yeah, I guess so,” and you both laugh. 

“Oh boy,” Sarah says. “Stepmom? If my dad gets remarried, I think…things would change…”

“How so?”

“What if she hates me? And then dad stops spending time with me? What if he has another kid, and they forget about me?” She pauses, but not long enough for you to shut it down without interrupting. “I mean, tell me what happened with your stepmom. Did you become an afterthought? ”

“Uh, well….” you wrinkle your nose. “I mean, yeah, but I was never exactly a priority to begin with.”

To you, it’s such a casual statement of fact, so at first, you’re not sure why Sarah looks so distraught by the response. “Oh, I- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to….” Her shoulders sag, just a little.

“Oh,” you wave your hand dismissively. “It’s fine. I’m fine. What I’m trying to say is from everything you’ve told me about your dad, and everything I know myself –” which is more than you think “– he would never let that happen.”

“Yeah, I know, I know,” she says, bobbing her head. “But I can’t help but think about it.”

“Those are just thoughts…” you offer. And you’re no longer even approaching this conversation with the context of being the woman who is with Joel. You just want to make her feel better. “Doesn’t mean they’ll come true.”

It seems to placate her. “Yeah. You’re right,” she nods, and takes a sip from her ginger ale. “I do worry about my dad, though. It’s just the two of us, and I know he gets lonely. And who knows, maybe someday he’ll end with someone I actually like. That could be fun,” Sarah smiles a little. “So long as they don’t boss me around.”

“Boss you around?” you ask, taking a sip from your own can and raising your eyebrows. “I wish them the best.”

“Shut up,” she says, then giggles. “But also…fair point.”

Suddenly, you sit up from where you’d been leaning back into the wood of your kitchen chair. And it seems like as good a time as ever to change the subject, because you’ve far overstayed your welcome lingering. “Oh, by the way, before I forget…stay right there, I have something for you.”

“What? What is it?”

You rise from your seat, and walk a few paces to the basket in the corner of the room. “You’ve got that camping trip coming up soon, and it gets chilly at night….” You dig through your knitting materials until you find what you’re looking for. Once you do, you place it in front of Sarah on the tabletop. 

“What? No way!” she exclaims, picking up the baby blue knit cap in front of her. “You knitted me a hat?”

“Yeah,” you say, a bit sheepishly. “I meant to wrap it but-”

“It’s so cute,” Sarah cuts you off. “Can I try it on?”

“Of course, it’s yours.”

She jumps up from her seat and saunters to the mirror that hangs above the credenza just inside your front door. You follow her, standing behind her as she tugs the hat over her head. “What do you think?”

“Here,” you murmur, reaching over her shoulder to brush a piece of hair from her eyes, tucking it under the beanie, and pulling it further down in the back so it covers her ears as intended. Then you both look in the mirror. “I like it. Do you like it?” 

“Yes,” she says, incredulous. “I can’t believe you made this for me.”

“I’ve hardly been knitting lately because it is so hot here. And you’ve been talking about how excited you are for this trip since I met you, so…it only felt right.”

Sarah whirls around quickly to wrap you in a hug, and you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror behind her – arm across the back of the pink hoodie she’s wearing. There’s a vague sense of longing in your expression, and you wonder what it might have been like to have someone in your life who could have given you the things your parents never did. Maybe there’s still a way to right all the wrongs. And not just for yourself.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

-June 6th, 2003-

“Come in!” 

You’re closing the oven when you hear the knock on your screen door. It slams shut, and you peer through the entrance of your kitchen to the front foyer – just to make sure you haven’t invited an axe murderer into your home. 

The concern is fleeting, because you see it’s just Joel, bent over, untying his work boots and slipping them off. You like to think of yourself as easygoing, but you don’t allow him to wear them inside the house. All it took was some side eye the last time he’d tracked dirt all over your clean carpets, and then you never had to ask him again. But really, it was a minor inconvenience compared to some of the shit your past boyfriends had pulled. For example, this past year you actually had to utter the sentence ‘I don’t want you stashing your coke in my underwear drawer’ out loud to a grown man. So, even if the bar was so low you could step over it – and hardly bend a knee – it was something you had learned to appreciate about him.

You’ve made a roasted whole chicken – which is surprisingly easy, and mostly involves root vegetables and a lot of butter. Then it just cooks in the oven. It’s sort of your go-to when you actually decide to cook, but it’s too much food for one person. But you like that if you make it at the beginning of the week, you can eat leftovers for several days after. You hope Joel will appreciate it – not that you are trying to impress him, well, who are you kidding? You definitely are. It’s just one of those things you are ashamed to admit to yourself. 

You turn to the sink, pulling off the yellow rubber gloves you’d bought to wash dishes in – in an effort to preserve your manicure. “Hey,” you say, when you hear his footsteps shuffling behind you. 

“Hey,” Joel answers, and before you can turn, his lips are on your cheek, his hand on your shoulder, and he takes in the scene of your kitchen. “Would you like some help?”

“I’m good,” you look around. It was maybe a little messy, but the dishes were soaking and all you have to do is wipe off the countertops. It tends to happen when you cook. You’re not great at mise en place. Still, you have a system, and it works for you, and it stresses you out to have helpers in the kitchen. “Everything’s in the oven already.” 

Turning finally, you take Joel all the way. He looks tired. Shoulders slumped, hair mussed. You reach out, pull a piece of sawdust out from one of his waves, flick it into the sink. “Why don’t you go sit in the front room?” you ask him. “I’ll be in, just give me a second.”

He’s been busy, putting in extra hour into his first contracting gig, and it appears it’s starting to take its toll. 

“Okay,” he nods, hesitant, stepping back. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Joel settles onto your couch with his hands over his face. He’s upset with himself. For as much as he likes you, he’s barely seen you since your first date – and tonight, the one night he gets the chance, he’s utterly spent. 

He rubs his eyes, looks towards your record player in the corner of the room, some melancholy jazz playing over the speakers. In the kitchen, dishes clink together, and a cabinet shuts lightly. Joel lets his head loll back against the plush cushions of your couch, savoring the only peace he’s felt all day.

“Dinner’s almost ready,” your voice cuts in, and Joel doesn’t know how you had snuck up on him, but when he peers up at you, standing over him, you’re holding out a frosted tumbler. 

The floral apron you’d been wearing when he first came in is gone, so he sees more clearly the blush button-down you’ve paired with khaki slacks. Your hair is clipped back from your face, reading glasses on your head. He thinks of your coworkers who get to see you looking like this everyday, and gets a little envious. “What’s this?”

“A drink,” you say. “I thought you might need one.”

“Is it that obvious?” He feels a little guilty that it’s so clear to you what’s wrong, and you’ve barely spoken yet. Despite everything, Joel can’t help but feel warm, accepting the beverage graciously. The thin layer of ice coating the outside of the drink melts the second his fingers wrap around it, brushing against your own. 

“Only a little,” you give him a soft smile before clinking glasses.

It’s some kind of whiskey, served over ice and it’s fucking good. It goes down far too easy, and he immediately takes another pull. You settle next to him while he does, but not so close that you’re touching. Joel is no stranger to how tentative you are with him, still. But he likes you regardless. He’s holding something fickle in his palm, and he understands he’d better hold still so as not to break it. 

“Long day?” you ask, and reach out to trace your knuckle up his arm absentmindedly. 

“Yeah,” Joel murmurs. “Things just keep goin’ wrong.”

“And you’re the problem solver now?”

“Something like that,” Joel says. You’d already drilled him about the ins and outs of his job awhile back. Being a contractor, while it’s a step up from his last job, and makes him more money – is much more demanding. People actually answer to him, now. 

“I’m sorry…that sounds stressful,” you empathize. “I’m sure you’ll get a handle on it soon enough.”

Joel nods. Even if his brain has been telling him otherwise, he’s inclined to believe you. 

Carefully – but not at all hesitantly, you reach out, hand curling around the back of his neck. Its the same one you’d been using to hold your glass so it’s comfortingly cool against his skin – still heated from a day spent under the sun. Joel feels his heart rate pick up as you move in closer. When your lips connect with his own, the kiss is gentle, affectionate. A proper greeting. 

A flash of something, white hot, swipes up the sides of his neck, into his face. He’s a little embarrassed at the effect your touch has on him. Everything is still so new. And he’s hardly gotten the time alone with you to get it out of your system.

You deepen the kiss, it becomes deeper, more sensual, and he feels the switch flip. Almost as though you can sense his arousal, your hand slips down, swiftly unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans. Your mouth never leaves his, you never pull away to look down, and he’s hard by the time you cup him through his underwear. And he’s still so taken aback he can’t stifle the noise he makes – directly into your mouth.

Your fingers hook through his belt loops to shuck his pants and underwear down, and the comfort of your body pressed against him disappears. Blinking open his eyes, he reaches out to pull you back. “What are you-” he cuts himself off when he sees you kneeling between his parted knees. 

In response, your hands plant high on his thighs. “What does it look like?” you ask, your chin tilting back, eyes glimmering.

Oh. 

“May I?” So polite, considering the offer. 

Joel nods wordlessly, and he watches you lean forward. His eyes squeeze shut right before you take him in your mouth – because he knows if he doesn’t ease his way into this, he won’t last. 

You don’t waste time teasing or kissing or anything like that. You’re not gonna drag things out. Maybe it’s because dinner’s in the oven and your time is limited, or maybe this is just how you are.

He aches, and in one go, you wrap your mouth around him and take him as deep as you can, he feels your throat constrict when you can’t go any further. Then, you do it again, again. It goes on that way, until he’s coated with saliva and the slide of your lips up and down the length of him feels as soft as the silk of your shirt, which he’s unintentionally fisting, trying to hold back. 

Your hands squeeze his thighs, massaging them gently while you work diligently. It’s fast, but not so fast he can’t enjoy himself. Sloppy, but he prefers it that way. It’s perfect. He thinks you’re fucking perfect. 

He decides he has to see you, watch you, and leans back to take you in more fully. One of his hands rises to slip under your chin, angles your face so your eyes lock with his own.  “Look at me,” he says, a little press to get you to engage. He’s learning how to push you– just enough to get what he needs without scaring you away. And he’s rewarded when you moan around him, the vibration around his cock only bringing him closer to release. 

“Such a sweet girl,” he murmurs, and you groan again at the praise – he relishes in how well he’s getting to know you, learning what gets you off – in the short time you’ve been together. “You look so pretty with your mouth full.” 

Then he moves his hand to sift into your hair, collecting it gently at your nape so it stays out of the way, and he can gently guide you along.

You pull off him for a moment, your breathing ragged, lips swollen and wet. You look so good, out of breath and overworked all just to please him. And you don’t relinquish all contact, your hand replacing, your mouth so you can jerking him off, twisting slightly at the top and letting your thumb run over the head of his cock. “You work so hard, Joel,” you mumble. “Just want to take care of you.”

“Fuck,” he growls at the words. Words he’ll remember on nights when you aren’t lying next to him in bed. He’s got to hold out a little longer, just to see what else you might say. 

It’s all you offer, though, because you wrap your lips around him once more. 

He’s getting close. It wasn’t going to take much to begin with – but it’s the first time you’ve ever gone down on him, it’s been a long day, everything is compiling together to make him feel hotter and hotter, the pressure at the apex of his thighs reaching its precipice. One of your hands leaves his thighs to cup his balls, the other working the part of him your mouth doesn’t reach. He loses all his composure, his head falling back as his hips roll forward, choked sounding phrases leaving him. “Keep going, baby – just like that– so fucking good–”

You obey, because of course you do, and before he knows it – he’s coming, hard. You don’t pull back at all, just swallow him down as he pulses down your throat.

Joel covers his face with his hands and tries to steady his breathing, thoroughly spent. He’s fucking hungry, still, but at this rate, he may fall asleep soon. Warm palms land on his chest. For a moment, he’d nearly forgotten where he was.

“You good?” he opens his eyes to find you hovering over him, amusement in your expression.

“Yeah, yeah.” He chuckles, reaches out. “You can’t be fucking real,” he murmurs softly, hand on your cheek. 

“Oh,” You pull back to retrieve your drink and take a sip. “I’m very real.” 

“Come here.” He rasps, pulling you forward into a kiss. 

When he attempts to deepen it, you pull back slightly. “Hey, uh…dinner’s gonna be ready any minute.” 

“Oh?” Joel asks. 

“Yeah,” you nod. “And I’m actually….well I’m actually kind of proud of it, so maybe we shouldn’t get too distracted.” 

“Really?” Joel settles on pulling you against his chest, and you settle there easily. He’s hit in these moments with the awe that you let him this close, that you’re willing to do even more for him, you already have. “Sarah told me you can’t cook.”

“What?” you say incredulously, your head lifting off his chest. “That’s not true. I can, I just don’t.”

“You seemed to know what you’re doing.” 

“I do,” you say confidently, then grimace. “Well, I mean, I can follow a recipe.”

Joel laughs. “I’m sure it’ll be good.” Your head goes back against his chest. He’s careful not to disturb you too much when he reaches for the remainder of his whiskey. “What is this?”

“Dunno,” and instead of reaching out for your own glass, you bring the hand that holds his own down to your lips to take a sip. He strokes your hair, watches you. “Bourbon.”

“It’s good,” Joel says, and drinks again. He wants to down the glass, then steal from yours like you did to him, but it tastes expensive. 

You continue on. “A client gave it to me today for some pro-bono work I did. It’s probably meant to be served neat, but….it’s too hot for that.”

“Nice of you to help them out.”

You make a noise of affirmation, almost dismissive, and Joel continues on.  “I should be doing more of that sort of thing.”

“It’s alright,” you shrug.

“You know I…..” you trail off for a minute, like you’re trying to decide if you want to share something with him. “All I do is work for corporations all day. I have to be kind of….manipulative? Self-serving. It’s a little exhausting. It’s nice when I can use my skills to actually help people, you know?”

“Can’t really picture you being manipulative,” Joel let’s his thumb graze over your cheek. 

He thinks you might laugh, but instead you pull back, your expression unreadable. It’s easy to see that you’re studying him carefully, and he strokes your arm, giving you the space to continue. “You should know I haven’t always been the best person, Joel. No one has ever really looked out for me, so….”  you trail off. “But I’ve been trying. To be better.”

You say it like you’re not convinced. Like you’ve been told it’ll never be possible. Joel gazes tucks your hair behind your ear reverently. “Wherever you’re at right now,” he says. “Is plenty good for me.”

“Yeah well,” your eyes flicker away – maybe it was too much. “Helps that I’ve been spending all my time with you and Sarah.” You smile gently, then change the subject. “Did you see, she did my nails?” 

Joel looks down at your hands. 

“What do you think?” you ask. 

“They’re very….pink.” 

“They are.” 

Joel is thankful that Sarah has an outlet that’s not himself for something like this. He tries to imagine what it would be like to show up at work with his nails painted, and knows that he’d get shit for the rest of his life. “Better you than me, I guess.”

“Don’t give me any ideas.”

He laughs. 

“Where is Sarah, tonight, anyways?” you ask Joel. 

“My parents take her out for dinner at the end of every school year,” Joel says. 

“Oh,” you seem a little surprised by the mention of his parents. “Do they live nearby?” 

“Not too far,” Joel says. “About an hour and a half drive out of the city, close to Fredericksburg. They’re on a ranch….out in the sticks.” 

“Is that where you grew up?” 

“Yeah,” he can’t help but smile to himself. “It’s different now, but….my parents owned a strawberry patch.” 

“Are you serious?” 

It seems like a different lifetime ago, but Joel still remembers it all so vividly. The busy spring season, visitors from the city flocking to his family’s little farm in the middle of nowhere to pick the ripe fruit straight from the vine. His father had taught him how to mend fences and keep the pests away, and his mother taught him how to tend to the plants, to prune and nurture. “Yeah.”

“Yeah.” Joel shakes his head, continuing to recall. “Tommy and I would always try to sneak as many strawberries as we could without our parents noticing,” Joel recalls. “And then inevitably eat so many he’d make himself sick, then we’d both get in trouble.” 

“Oh my god,” you shake your head in disbelief. “This doesn’t sound real. I need photos.” 

“I have them…somewhere,” Joel says, and he’s sure they’re buried in a box in the back of his closet. 

“It sounds so…idyllic,” you say, shaking your head. Joel had never thought much of it. Of course, when you’re a kid, your perspective is so narrow. Maybe he didn't realize how good he had it, and he supposes, to the right person, it might sound like a lie. It dawns on him that you're both so fundamentally different, but it doesn't feel that way.

A timer dings in the other room. 

“That’s the oven,” you say, shifting away from him and standing up. You offer him your hand to help him off the couch, and he bats it away, buttoning up his jeans before joining you. “Let’s eat.” 

Joel realizes that all the stress from the day has melted off, and he can’t even remember what exactly had him so flustered earlier. Right now, everything feels alright. 

---

tags: @netflix-imagines @waymorecake4me @yaskna@venomous-ko@lomljigg@yeehawbitchs@ay0nha @eldahae @lol-im-done@melancholicmelanin@reggies-floatie @omniscientqueer@superflymaterial@mikkorantanev@zbeez-outlet @nadja-antipaxos @strawberri-blonde @jabbajambler @ponyboys-sunsets @kyuupidwrites @r4efromvenus @loveatfirstsight-atlastsight @korianderbandit @nicoleoeoeoe @hotgirlsshareaccounts @madisonred88 @crustyrustydusty @sflame15-blog @issybee0611 @darkemeralddiamond @grandmana @totallynotastanacc @ay0nha @virgogaia @lunarxeclipse @marysucks-blog @jabbajambler @surazim @naiomiwinchester @raindrcpsangel @dorotheapascal @mythical-mushrooms13 @chernayawidow @user294829329 @gushington-central @hollyismentallyillhelp @dresseduplikeacarcrash @corvusmorte @aheartgonewild @19891213 @emoslave44

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[harmslength]

(Mostly) NSFW Headcanons Part III

Disclaimer: Slight spoilers so be warned. Just covering movies I have seen or characters I know enough about to judge. This is just for funsies, just my own personal opinions, so it’s totally okay if you disagree. Fully aware how much of an ass I’m being. Horny hater at my core.

Disco Pigs (2001) | Enda Walsh, Kirsten Sheridan - Darren

• starting out strong with THE freak of freaks

• not to state the obvious but.. possessive, dominating, jealous asf but also loyal asf

• Incel ass behavior, would definitely have a Reddit account, frequent user of 4chan.

• would jerk off to hentai titties if he could

• would probably ask you to do the ahegao face during sex…

On the Edge (2001) | John Carney - Jonathan Breech

• as much as he would hate to admit it.. hopeless romantic. Super devoted but would have an annoying tendency to flirt with other girls to see if you’d get jealous.

• honestly.. great first bf to have. Would absolutely destroy your perception of what love should be.. but hey isn’t that first loves?

• heavy breathing and moaning in your ear. Loves to give hickeys.

Sunburn (1999) | Nelson Hume - Davin McDerby

• oh davin… dead beat baby daddy fr.. loved his character arc regardless tho

• ngl probably absolute shit in bed. He screams premature ejaculator..

• has a porn addiction, but would hide it from you

• would pick up edging and would talk about your sex life very openly with “the boys”

• loves sending nudes and nut vids if he had the chance

Intermission (2003) | John Crowley - John

• he has no qualms about saying it: you’re a whore 😌

• probably feels the need to be in charge and take control but really.. you’d be the one calling the shots mostly

• definitely the type to make stupid jokes during sex

• whiny, would definitely triple text if you didn’t respond fast enough

• still a cutie ofc

• jealousy is his middle name

Girl with the Pearl Earring (2003) | Peter Webber - Pieter

• breeding kink but not in the fun way. Breeding kink in the way where he would wanna fuck like rabbits and procreate like rabbits.

• would want you to have like 6 of his kids is what I’m saying

• acts like he’s touch starved half the time, really handsy, likes to tease and leave kisses all over you

• knows how to handle his meat

At Deaths Door (1999) | Conor Morrissey - Young Reaper

• this one is just for shits and giggles

• it’s giving virgin, inexperienced but passionate

• shy asf, again you’d probably have to make the first move

[pagesfromthevoid]

Darling, Don’t You Cry | j.m.

Joel Miller x fem!reader

Only you have shown me how to love being alive.

Word Count: 8.4k (ahahah)

Warnings: Canon violence. Mild SA mention (nothing explicit). Murder. Mentions of being drugged and kidnapped, hunted by people. Softie Joel.

Author’s Note: I…don’t know what came over me. Might I recommend listening to Darling by Halsey as you read?

Talk to Me! | Read on AO3

1993 —Austin, Texas

Two years after Tommy joined the military; two years after Sarah’s mom left

“I can’t stay,” she argued, shoving clothes into a suitcase.

Joel stood in the doorway, arms crossed, but made no move to stop her. “Can we at least talk about it?”

She scoffed, shaking her head. “Now you wanna talk, Miller? I’ve been trying to talk for months.”

Joel heaved a sigh, running his hands over his jaw. “I know —I’m sorry, okay? It’s complicated —,”

“You think I didn’t know that going into this?” She asked, turning to finally look at him. “You think that I didn’t know how hard this would be, between you having a baby and a wife that just up and left? I knew it would be complicated, Joel.”

“Then I don’t get why you’re leaving,” he pressed, finally stepping into the room. “You’ve lived here your whole life —,”

“I’ve lived here since I was fifteen,” she countered, looking at him with annoyance. “And have had feelings for you since I moved here.”

“Don’t say that,” he warned, crossing his arms. “You’ve had plenty of boyfriends; shit, you dated Tommy.”

“Oh my god, when we were sixteen,” she groaned, throwing her hands in the air. Then she stopped, taking a deep breath to calm herself. “You wanna talk? Let’s talk. I got accepted into a great program in Seattle. I have deferred that acceptance for two years to help take care of Sarah since Tommy left for basic, under the condition that I would go when he got home.

“Just because you have been dancing around whether or not you have feelings for me doesn’t mean I don’t know what I feel. And it damn well doesn’t give you the right to tell me I cannot go.”

“I never said you couldn’t,” he countered, reaching out to take the shirt she had in her hands. “I just —what’s so special about Seattle that you can’t have here?”

“My family is there. That’s what’s in Seattle, Joel. And a damn good aerospace program that wants me. Do you not get how big a deal that is?” She stared up at him, frowning deeply. “I have spent years being told I wasn’t good enough by every fucking teacher I’ve ever had —and now Boeing fucking wants me. I can’t keep blowing them off. Tommy comes home tomorrow, and my flight is booked for the day after. If I don’t go now —I won’t ever go.”

They stared each other down for a long time, Joel’s eyes pleading with her to stay. But she has spent the last two years helping take care of a child that wasn’t her’s, deferring an acceptance that never should have been deferred, and loving a man who couldn’t decide what he wanted. There were a million reasons for her to go; she just needed one good one to stay. 

But she knew he’d never give her that reason. 

“Tell me why I should stay, Joel,” she finally demanded, looking up at him with tears in her eyes. “Tell me what I know you want and I’ll stay.”

“Darlin’, I can’t —,”

“Don’t call me that,” she snapped, pointing at the door. “Just…just get out of my house, Joel.”

She watched him turn and leave, taking her heart with him. 

2003 —Austin, Texas

Two weeks before the outbreak 

“When are you gonna let me take you back out?” Tommy asked, leaning against the bar. 

The dive bar wasn’t terribly busy; just a handful of people that knew she was back in town for a few days. Boeing was working with Johnson Space Center in Houston on a new project and she was sent down to work with the teams at NASA. It felt a bit surreal, being the lead on such a huge project. 

She’d been back a handful of times since moving back to Seattle; mostly to visit Tommy and other friends. Life got busy, things changed, and it was never easy to just hop on a plane and visit. But now, with this new program, she was going to be settling down in Houston. Austin was a bit of a trek, but she missed her friends and time heals all wounds. 

“We’ve been down that road, Miller,” she reminded him with a teasing grin. “If I recall, you cheated on me with Danielle.”

“And Noelle. And Gina.”

She looked up from the bar at the familiar voice, turning around to see Joel sauntering in with a soft smile on his face. Leaning back against the bar, she lifted her beer in greeting. 

Maybe time didn’t heal all wounds. 

But it sure as hell made the heart grow fonder. 

“Joel Miller, as I live and breathe,” she greeted, though remained seated. “Still out here ruining Tommy’s life, I see. Didn’t know about the other two.” She gave Tommy a pointed look, but there was a grin on her face. 

“Someone’s gotta keep’em humble,” Joel answered easily, taking the empty seat beside her. “How long you in town, darlin’?”

If he saw her flinch at the nickname, he didn’t react. 

“Austin, a week,” she explained, lifting the beer to her lips. Her eyes dragged over his face, taking in every little change she’d missed in him. “Houston, at least a year.”

He raised a brow, sitting up a bit straighter. “Moving back, then? Seattle not cuttin’ it?”

“Seattle is just fine,” she countered, turning back in her seat to face the bar. “I’m working out at the Space Center, with the shuttle program. Lead engineer.”

“Shit,” he chuckled, shaking his head as the bartender handed him a beer of his own. “That’s impressive.”

She just shrugged in response, smiling behind her beer now. It was easy to fall back into it with Joel; like no time had passed at all. But that’s how it always was. Joel was an easy friend to make, and an even easier person to fall for. 

What started as a stupid crush on the older neighbor boy had turned into so much more —ending just like she expected it would. Him not realizing she even existed until she was old enough to make a move herself, and by then he had a little girl and a wife. And even when his wife up and left, Joel couldn’t make up his mind about what he wanted from her. 

“I’ve always been impressive,” she teased, glancing over at him. “Not my fault you’re blind in your old age.”

Joel scoffed, taking a swig of his beer. “I’m almost certain you and I are barely five years apart.”

“Feels like decades.”

They fell into a silence as the bar started to liven up, people wandering in and getting the party started. Her fingers fiddled with a bracelet on her wrist —one that Joel had given her the first Christmas she spent with him and Sarah. She couldn’t find herself parting with it; as much as she knew she should, she just couldn’t. The charm —a single star —was loose and she tried tightening it while she fiddled. 

She stole a glance at Joel, who was looking at her with a small frown on his face. He reached over, taking her wrist without a word to fix the charm himself. His touch on her skin lit a fire that she had to put out immediately. She couldn’t keep looking at him; refused to. The look in his eyes reminded her of the one he gave when she left. 

And she couldn’t fall for it again. 

“I gotta get home,” she announced, hopping off her barstool. “My dad is waiting for me; promised I’d stay with him while I was in town.”

Joel nodded once, looking away from her finally. “Don’t be a stranger; Sarah’s soccer season ended so she’s home in the evenings. Doubt she remembers ya, but I’m sure you remember her.”

It was a subtle dig; a reminder that she had left and tried her damnedest not to come back. But she wouldn’t let him see how it bothered her, giving him a polite smile. 

“I’ll try to stop by.”

Both of them knew she wouldn’t though.

2003 —Somewhere in east Texas

One month after the outbreak

“You sure that’s the address?” Joel asked, looking up at a building.

Just like most places, it seemed abandoned aside from a handful of looters trying to get whatever they could. One of the many luxury apartments of Houston, left to the elements and whatever else found its way into the building. 

Tommy held out a worn out piece of paper to him, the ink faded from being folded over so many times. Joel took it, looked it over a few times, before he cast his gaze up. 

“We gotta get to the eighth floor then.”

“Leave it to her to live on the fuckin’ top floor,” Joel grumbled, shaking his head. 

“If she’s even there,” Tommy reminded him, looking up at the building. 

He glanced at his brother, frowning deeply as Tommy fell prey to the thought that she was dead. Tommy was the one to assume the best; to assume she was alive. 

Joel assumed she wasn’t.

It was easier to assume the worst than hope for the best. 

Trekking up eight flights of stairs was living hell, given that at any moment someone —something could attack. Guns drawn, backing up stairs to cover each other…it was something that the two had grown used to doing over the last month. But silence enveloped the building, and by the time they made it to the top floor unscathed, things seemed…fine.

“Apartment 818E,” Tommy reminded him, motioning for him to follow down the hall. 

Joel had an uneasy feeling as he peered into open apartments, checking for threats. It seemed that looters hadn’t made it up eight flights of stairs, leaving many of the apartments alone. But it was too quiet; too easy. Nothing in this new hell was easy. 

Tommy stopped, standing in front of a closed apartment door. The numbers were eschew, like someone tried prying them off. But the door was unlocked when he reached for it, gun drawn. Joel followed close behind as they pushed open the door. And it was like walking into a memory. 

Everything was covered in a thin layer of dust, but it was clearly still her home. Pictures on the walls, books stacked on the coffee table. Dishes were still in the sink, and the upturned faucet suggested that the water had been running when she left. Joel stepped through the living room, glancing over the photos that littered the space. 

But he stopped in front of one —staring at him through dust and cobwebs. It was a photo of him and Sarah, right after Sarah’s first birthday, not long after his ex left. He remembered that day; she had insisted on taking a new family photo because fuck her, who needs her? And when Joel tried to argue that Sarah needed her mother —she reminded him that Sarah had her, and did he.

There was a photo next to it, one he didn’t remember taking. Tommy had his arm around her shoulders, and Joel had his around her waist. The photo was snapped as she looked up at Joel —like she was caught staring at him instead of smiling at the camera. It was right before Tommy had left for basic, at his going away party. She looked up at him like she was seeing the stars for the first time.  

And Joel wondered, briefly, how he had been so fucking stupid not to notice. 

He lifted the photo off the wall, wiping away the grime. There was a hole in his heart where Sarah was missing; and now another hole where she was too. He glanced at the photo of him and Sarah, taking it down next. Tommy was still searching the house, but Joel was prying the backs of the frames off and taking the photos out. He couldn’t leave them behind. 

“Find anything?” He asked, taking a breath to calm himself down. Feelings didn’t mean shit at the end of the world, anyway.

When Tommy didn’t answer, Joel pushed the photos into his back pocket and returned to searching. He found Tommy standing in her bedroom, staring at the floor. Joel’s gaze followed, and even though he had assumed the worst —seeing the blood stains on the carpet twisted everything inside him until it ached. 

“Maybe it’s not hers,” Tommy mumbled, kneeling down to look the stain over. Joel was about to argue, but Tommy’s voice cracked as he spoke again. “She was always fighting, she probably got away —,”

“Tommy,” Joel scolded gently, kneeling beside his brother. “Tommy, we need to go.”

But Tommy just shook his head, staring blankly at the blood stain. Joel huffed in frustration, pushing himself off the floor. He’d give his brother a few minutes; let him accept that she was really gone. It was easier that way —Joel had accepted she was dead weeks ago. 

He took a moment, looking around her bedroom. It was a mess; like she was in the middle of cleaning up when everything went wrong. Clothes were hanging from her drawers and her curtains were drawn. The bed wasn’t made, with the covers practically pushed onto the floor. The pictures on her nightstand were knocked over from the blankets being thrown, and Joel moved over to set them back up. 

Sitting on the nightstand was a worn, silver star. The jump ring was twisted open, and the star itself had a copper tint from being worn down over years. Joel hesitated just a moment before picking it up, looking it over. He’d tried to fix it last month, but she wouldn’t let him get too close. And now, he held the charm in the palm of his hand, throat closing up. 

“Tommy, we need to go,” Joel finally decided, trying to keep himself together. “We gotta get moving. She’s gone.”

Reluctantly, his brother stood and rubbed a hand over his face. Then, after composing himself, he and Tommy left what was left of their old life behind. 

Joel, however, pocketed the charm. 

2023 —Present Day

Somewhere near the border of Wyoming

“Why couldn't the skeleton share the bad news?” Ellie asked, kicking her feet out in front of her. 

Joel rubbed his face, groaning as she giggled to herself, holding the joke book. “God, why?”

“Because he didn’t have the heart!”

He hunched over, closer to the fire, giving her an unamused look as he shook his head. “Fuckin’ terrible, kid.”

“You’re just not funny.”

As Joel was about to argue, a gunshot rang out in the distance. Both of them went silent, with Joel smothering the campfire and him pushing Ellie behind rocks that they had taken refuge in for the evening. Joel stayed low, pulling out his own pistol. He glanced back at Ellie, who was peering out from behind the rocks, clutching her pocket knife. 

“Stay here,” Joel ordered, giving the girl a hard look. 

“But —,”

“No,” he interrupted, pointing at her. “Stay. Here.”

Ellie huffed in anger, but fell against the rock. Joel took a breath, shaking his head for a moment before he began making his way towards the gunshot. Another rang out —then another. The shots were getting closer —too close, and he was readying himself for a fight as he inched closer to the woods. 

The sound of snowing and ice crunching under boots was loud enough that it pierced the silence of the night like a knife. Someone was being chased, and Joel feared the worst. There were too many possibilities of what could be running towards him, and he wasn’t about to take any chances as he pushed up against a tree, pistol at the ready. 

Another shot rang out, and a high pitch scream came next. 

“Son of a bitch.”

Joel blinked, that overwhelming pain in his chest suddenly taking over as he listened. The voice was painfully familiar —older, hoarse, but familiar. He peered around the base of the tree, catching just a glimpse of a woman, holding her shoulder as it bleed into her hands. Her gun lay on the ground beside her. 

But it was her. 

Twenty years —twenty goddamn years, and there she stood in front of him. Covered in blood —fresh and old —and being shot at in the wilderness of Wyoming. Older too; but they both were. Her lip was busted, bruised and bleeding. But it was her.

He wondered if she had looked for him and Tommy, like they had for her. 

“You can’t run,” a voice called from further away. Joel, unable to catch his breath, leaned back against the tree. 

“Thought that was the fucking point,” she snapped back, reaching down to snatch her gun back up, pointing it hastily into the woods. Joel couldn’t see where she was aiming. “I thought you were hunting me —prey runs, you dipshit.”

“Didn’t think you’d run so damn far.”

The other voice, distinctly male, emerged a few feet away from where Joel hid. He peered around one more time, making sure that it was just her and him. Her gun turned to her attacker, bad arm tucked into her side as she practically bared her teeth in a growl. 

“One more step,” she warned, hand trembling as she held the gun. “And I’ll shoot you.”

“You can barely aim with your good arm, what makes you think you’ll hit me now?”

“Fuck you,” she spat. 

“I gave you that option.”

“And yet I still chose being hunted over your dick.”

Joel had heard enough, turning from behind the tree and taking aim. There was no pause; he did not hesitate. He just pulled the trigger and watched her assailant drop like the fly he was. He didn’t stop, though, emptying his clip until the man was a bloody, unrecognizable mess. Even with it emptied, he pulled the trigger several more times as he saw red. 

She had whipped around, gun pointed at Joel now. Her movements were sluggish, and she was wincing from the wound in her arm. But he put his hands up, finger off the trigger. Her eyes widened as her hand shook, dropping her gun in the snow. It was littered in blood stains, and Joel thought back to that day they had found her apartment empty. 

“Joel?”

Hearing her say his name —after twenty years —felt surreal. Almost like he was hallucinating. How many nightmares and dreams did he have about her? Begging her to stay, trying to find her only to watch her disappear again? He’d forgotten the sound of her voice, how sweet it was —even now, broken and older. But hearing his name from her lips took him back and suddenly he was in the house again, laughing in the backyard with Sarah and her. 

He lowered his hands, slipping the pistol into his holster. She stared at him with wide eyes, as if she was seeing a ghost. Joel hesitated, but took half a step forward. She took a step back, breathing heavily as she watched him. It was like she was a feral animal, afraid to let him near. 

“Joel!”

He turned at the sound of Ellie’s voice, who was running up on him. When he turned back around, she was taking off back into the woods, clutching her arm and holding her gun. 

“Where the hell are you going?” Joel called after her, and she briefly paused —glanced over her shoulder at him —then kept going. 

For a moment, Joel considered going after her. How could she just take off like that? But Ellie sidled up to his side, grabbing the sleeve of his jacket as she watched the woman walk away through the snow. Then he decided he couldn’t. 

“You know her?” Ellie asked, brow furrowed. 

“I…yeah,” was all Joel could muster up saying. “Yeah, I do.”

*****

The remainder of their trip to Jackson was filled with questions from Ellie about the woman in the woods. Who is she? Why didn’t we go after her? Was that your girlfriend? Oh my fucking god it was.

By the time they had called it for the night the first day after seeing her, Joel had given the bare minimum he could to answer Ellie. Admitting anything more would just trudge up memories he didn’t want to relive, and make it harder to not go after her. She clearly didn’t want their help, and he knew well enough that meant she’d fight them tooth and nail to avoid it. It’s what he would have done too. It wasn’t worth the risk to Ellie. Not when they were so close to getting her to Tommy and to safety. 

After two weeks worth of walking and finally arriving in Jackson, Joel had tried to forget he had even seen her. There was no reason to tell Tommy; no reason to give him any hope that he had seen their old friend. Tommy had enough going on —with Maria being pregnant, there wasn’t a good excuse to bring it up anyway. 

Following dinner —where they enjoyed a meal that wasn’t expired, and Joel thanked God for that —Tommy offered to show them down to the stables. Ellie was overjoyed, ready to interact with any and all animals she could. Joel just followed along as Maria explained the different posts that Ellie could help with if they stayed, all working with the different animals the community raised. Joel and Tommy fell back some, though Joel kept his eyes on Ellie. 

“You know, I wanted to wait to tell you,” Tommy started, slipping his hands in his pockets as they both watched Ellie pet the horse in front of her. “But about a week ago, someone showed up at the gate —I don’t think you’ll believe me —,”

But Joel interrupted, whispering her name, before looking at Tommy. The younger man looked surprised that Joel knew. 

“How did you —,”

“We ran into her a few weeks ago,” Joel explained, crossing his arms over his chest. “She was…shit, I don’t know. Being hunted. I killed the guy, but she took off.”

“Explains the shitty stitch job she had when she got here.”

Joel just nodded, trying not to think about her stitching herself up in the middle of the woods, alone. Though he had tried hard not to think about the other things she had experienced, alone, over the last two decades.

“She spent a couple nights in quarantine but we got’er set up in one of the apartments in the center. I’ve been checkin’ on her, but she hasn’t said much; didn’t even mention seeing you.”

Joel just shrugged, watching Ellie still. But he decided it was for the best to change the subject; for now anyway. “I need your help, Tommy.”

*****

When she had arrived in Jackson, she was certain that she was going to die at the gate. Her shoulder was infected —not from a bite, but from lack of taking care of it. She had stitched herself together with a dirty needle and thread she had tucked away in an abandoned cabin not far from where Ryan —her attacker —had died. Her supplies were still there when she returned, and she thanked the universe for not fucking her over even more. 

With Ryan and his brothers gone, she was finally free from the nightmare she had been living in. Even if it meant dying at the gates of the community she’d only heard stories about…she died free.

But when the gate opened and she dropped to her knees in front of the masked guards, she heard her name being yelled. Frantic, shocked, terrified. But goddamn, she knew that voice. 

“Tommy,” she breathed as he froze in front of her. She was covered in blood, worse for wear, and she knew what he was thinking. “I-I’m not infected, I swear, I was shot —,”

“We’re gonna get you to the clinic, okay?” He promised, motioning for the guards to help her up. A dog approached her, sniffing her over for several minutes, before returning to Tommy’s side. “See? Not infected; the dogs can tell.”

He ended up lifting her into his arms and carrying her through the gates. It felt like every part of her was just getting heavy, and her eyes wouldn’t focus on anything around her. But she was with Tommy; she was with someone she knew. And he was safe, and he was there. And when she woke up —if she woke up —she’d tell him she was saved by who she thought was Joel.

“I gotcha,” he promised, “You just gotta stay awake for me. Can you do that?”

She hummed in response, but her eyelids were too heavy and soon, the world had turned to black. 

*****

When she woke, Tommy was sitting next to her bed with another woman. They didn’t notice her staring at them through half closed eyes, taking a moment to consider if she was dead and this was heaven. But then, she moved just enough and she gasped in pain. Her shoulder stung, her head ached, and Christ, she was thirsty. 

“Hey, hey, don’t move,” Tommy ordered softly, pushing her good shoulder down into the pillows. “You’re just fine; you’re safe.”

She stared at him for a long time, reaching out to touch his face. Twenty years was such a long time, and he had changed so much. Everyone changed, of course. The world was nothing like it was when they were kids, but he was still Tommy Miller; still her friend and the boy next door. And as he touched her hand, she started crying. 

*****

After a week in the clinic, Tommy set her up with a small apartment in the center of the community. He tried apologizing for how small it was, but she waved him off, insisting that it was far better than anything she’d experienced in years. When he tried to push for more, she told him she wanted to settle in and that she would tell him more later. 

He left it at that, and left her alone. 

It was a small space, but it was her space. She had a bed, a bathroom, and a kitchen. And for a very short moment, she thought it was some semblance of normal. But when she got into the shower —washed out the grease and grime and remaining blood from her fight —and watched that faded crimson circle the drain…well, it wasn’t normal. It never would be. 

And when she stepped out, feeling cleaner than she had in nearly two decades, she finally saw her reflection. Her lips were bruised and split, with a scar across her cheek to her ear. Bruises littered her skin, enough so that her entire chest and shoulder were completely discolored. The bags under her eyes —not from being hit, shockingly, but from pure exhaustion —made her look sick. Though god forbid, she was incredibly malnourished as it was. 

Maria —Tommy’s wife, she had explained —came by with containers of food. She explained she and Tommy led the community, and that usually people ate the mess hall. But of course, no one expected her to right away. She wanted to joke, to tell Maria that she seemed too good for Tommy. But she stopped herself, because how would she know that? The Tommy she knew before the outbreak and the Tommy Maria knew were two completely different people. 

By the end of her first week, she was finally finding herself trying to explore Jackson. Tommy had offered to give her a tour, but she told him to go help Maria with whatever she was doing. He had hesitated, but eventually left her to her own devices. 

The remainder of her day was spent alone, wandering through the community. People greeted her, and she offered them soft smiles in response, but didn’t linger long enough to talk more. Exploring and socializing were two very different things, and she wasn’t ready for the socialization part of being there yet. 

So she wandered the perimeter, counting her steps as she memorized each entry point. Nodded to the guards and thanked them. Then she made her way back around the other way. It’s what she had done in the Dallas QZ; memorized every weak point that she could sneak out of. It was the only thing that kept her sane for the first few years, before she finally managed to get the hell out. 

Two twenty-three, two twenty-four, two twenty-five, two —

Her name was called, disrupting her counting, and she froze mid-step. Her name was yelled again, and that same familiar drawl that she had heard in the woods —that she thought she heard. 

Slowly, she turned.

Twenty steps away stood Joel Miller, watching her. 

She hadn’t been seeing things. It wasn’t blood loss or drug induced hallucinations —Joel was really eighteen steps away from her. 

Seventeen. 

He said her name again, and she took two steps towards him. 

Fifteen. 

“Joel,” she managed to croak out as she took three more steps.

Ten. 

Eight. 

Joel took four more; she took four. They met in the middle, and her arms were around his middle before she could stop herself. His snaked around her shoulders, pulling her into him without another word and she gasped as she started crying into his jacket. Joel pressed his lips to her hair, and she sobbed harder, clinging to him. 

“It’s okay,” he promised, holding her close to him. “It’s alright, darlin’. Don’t you cry; it’s okay.”

How many nights did she dream of him calling her that again? Even after she accepted he didn’t want her, that he let her leave —she dreamed of it for years, wishing she could see him one more time. Apologize for leaving, and tell him she missed him. Tell him how she wished she had asked him to come with her, to bring Sarah and they could be a family together properly. 

It was too late for that; too late to apologize. To have a family, and a life like what they had before. But he was there, and he was real. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, voice muffled by his jacket. “I’m sorry, Joel.”

He hushed her, promising her again that everything was going to be okay. “C’mon —sun’s setting. Let’s get inside before it’s dark.”

She nodded, letting him pull away. But his touch didn’t disappear, instead turning into him wrapping his arm around her shoulders to lead her back into town. Nobody said a word to them as she sobbed into her hands, letting Joel guide her wherever they were going. 

She would have let him guide her to hell if it meant being close again though. 

*****

They didn’t actually say anything to one another for a long time. Joel had brought her to the hole in the wall Tommy had given him and Ellie to stay, and when they sat down —she just cried. He didn’t know how to console her, or calm her down. So instead he simply let her cry, and held her while she did so. As Joel held her, he could feel her body shake with sobs. He could tell that she was struggling with something deep and personal, and he didn't want to intrude on her emotions by prying or trying to speak too soon. So he just held her tightly and waited for her to open up when she was ready.

Ellie had come out of her room at the intrusion, no doubt about to make a snarky comment, but Joel gave her a pointed look. It was a warning, and Ellie backed away as soon as the woman let out another broken sob. 

But as her crying slowly subsided, and her tears stopped streaking down her cheeks, she pulled away from him. Joel leaned forward on the sofa, clasping his hands together as she fell against cushions. He wondered how long she’d kept herself from crying; how long she buried all those feelings. 

“Feel better?” He asked, leaning back now to properly look at her. 

She just nodded, rubbing her eyes with the heels of her palms. “I’m sorry —Christ, I’m pathetic —,”

“None of that,” he scolded, but he tried to keep his voice soft. 

Ellie peered around the corner, and before Joel could say anything, she followed his gaze to the child. Her brow furrowed, staring at Ellie like she was trying to pick her apart.

“That’s not…,” she trailed off, looking back at Joel in confusion. “Did you…Did I miss you having another kid?”

Ellie suddenly snorted, laughing at her question as she finally joined the two in the living room. Joel gave Ellie a careful scowl, frowning deeply as she sat on the floor in front of the two adults. While he never thought he’d have a private moment with her again, he needed Ellie to not interrupt him trying to figure out what was going on.

“I’m not his kid,” Ellie announced, sitting crisscrossed before her now. “I’m his cargo.”

“Don’t say that shit,” he warned, giving Ellie a pointed look. “You’re not –not anymore.”

“But…she was?” She asked, looking between the two curiously. 

“Long story,” was all Joel could manage to say, running a hand through his hair. “I’ll…explain it later.”

She looked between Ellie and Joel for a moment, trying to draw connections between the two before she seemed to give up. Her hands rubbed her eyes again, taking a deep breath as she settled into the couch further. Joel simply stared at her, watching her movements. Her fingers tapped against her thigh, a pattern that he was certain she didn’t realize she was making. Her mouth was bruised, with a split lip that was still healing. 

“Why’d you run from us?” Ellie suddenly demanded, leaning forward.

“Ellie –,”

But she let out a huff that sounded like a laugh, and Joel turned his attention to her instead of the kid in front of them. He wanted to know too; wanted to understand why she took off when she clearly knew it was him. She’d said his name, after all. But Ellie was too blunt for her own good.

“I…,” she trailed off, trying to think of her explanation. “Do you want the actual answer, or the less terrible one?”

Joel and Ellie glanced at one another, both frowning now. It was Joel who spoke. “The real answer. Please.”

She nodded once, looking down at her hands for a moment. “I thought I was hallucinating, that’s all. Twenty years –what are the odds of you being in the same stretch of woods as me, twenty years after the last time we saw each other?”

“Fucking slim,” Ellie mumbled, looking between the two.

She gave Ellie a surprised look, as if not expecting her to curse. But she shook her head, returning to her story. “I…I’d lost a lot of blood, I think. And I was drugged. Been running for days without eating or sleeping, so I…I saw you, and I really did think it was you. But then…well, she…” She motioned to Ellie then to Joel, frowning still. “I thought, ‘That’s not Sarah; that’s not Sarah so that can’t be Joel,’ and I…figured I was just hallucinating from the drugs and lack of sleep. It wouldn’t have been the first time, honestly. But then…I took off before I could think straight.”

Joel stared at her for a long time, taking her explanation for what it was. In a fucked up way, he liked the thought that she had been seeing him in her delirious state. Maybe it was wrong; maybe it was the worst thing to think of. But she thought of him, and he wondered if that meant what he thought it did.

“How’d you end up in the woods?” He asked, eyes roaming over the scars that she had picked up over the years. “Sounded like you knew the fucker that attacked you.”

“That’s…a whole different story,” she sighed then glanced at Ellie. “One I don’t think I can share with a kid.”

“Bullshit,” Ellie complained, throwing her hands in the air. “I’ve seen and heard so much worse –,”

“Ellie, please,” Joel scolded, pointing to the bedroom. “I need you to go find something else to do.”

“What the hell am I gonna do?”

“Literally anything. Go.” Joel's voice was stern, and he knew that Ellie was feeling frustrated not being involved. "Ellie, I mean it. Anything else. Just keep yourself busy and stay safe," Joel said firmly.

Ellie rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "Fine," she grumbled, turning to head to the bedroom. 

As she disappeared from view, Joel let out a sigh of relief. He didn't want to hurt Ellie's feelings, but sometimes she was too stubborn for her good, and while he didn’t expect too long a moment alone with her, he wanted her to feel safe telling him what happened to her. And if that meant having Ellie go occupy herself for ten minutes, then he would make it up to her later. 

She watched Ellie walk away, waiting to speak until she heard the slam of the bedroom door. She flinched at the sound, closing her eyes for a moment. 

“I’m sorry, she can stay out here –,”

Joel shook his head, waving off her concerns. “She’ll be fine,” he promised, moving now to sit closer to her. “Sometimes she thinks she’s more grown than she is.”

“I think all teenagers think that way.”

He thought back to Sarah for a moment; how she insisted on doing things on her own only to realize she needed help when it was too late. It was a teenager thing to do, even in the middle of the apocalypse. The thought of Sarah hurt though, and he shook his head to bring him back. He knew that dwelling on the past wouldn't do any good, especially now that he had part of his past sitting in front of him.

“Talk to me,” he ordered, keeping that same stern but soft tone he gave her earlier. It was easier to move forward; keep the conversation going. Even if it meant talking about her past over his. “What happened?”

She bit at her lip, though stopped herself when she remembered the split and the bruise. Instead she opted to pick at the skin around her nails, trying to keep herself occupied. Joel waited patiently, frowning as time wore on. He could sense her unease and wanted to help, but he also knew better than to push her. He shifted his weight on the couch, leaning forward some, feeling the weight of the silence between them.

“Where do I even start?” She finally asked, covering her face with her hands. 

“Why not the beginning?” He suggested, reaching out to take her hand. “Tell me what happened, darlin’.”

She hesitated again, looking at their hands. His were a scarred, calloused disaster. Worn and torn from years of violence and labor. Even before the world had gone to shit, they were worked hard from construction. Joel couldn't help but notice the way she hesitated, her eyes darting back and forth between their hands. 

Suddenly, he was overwhelmed with the memory of the last time they touched like this. It was the morning before she kicked him out of her house. She’d stayed the night, having watched Sarah for him while he had gone out to help a friend get their car back and running. It wasn’t the first night they’d spent together, with her waking up in his bed and his lips on hers, lazy in the sunrise. She’d taken his hand, pressing their finger tips together, and asked him if he wanted to talk about her offer to Boeing. 

He didn’t want to talk about it then, promising they could later. He remembered her sighing, burying her face back into her pillow even though she still held his hand in hers. He had been avoiding the conversation for weeks at that point —knew he was pushing his luck in her staying with him without talking about it. They hadn’t talked about what had been going on between them; hadn’t put a label to it. She was young and had a life ahead of her. And Joel…well, he was the father of a four year old and too jaded from his ex to put his heart on the line again. He had been afraid to tell her the truth, and by the time she tried to force it out of him, it was too late. 

Christ. Had it really been thirty years? 

“Joel?”

Her voice broke him from his thoughts, and he focused on her face again. “Sorry, darlin’. I’m listening, promise.”

She nodded again, taking a moment before she finally started to speak. Her free hand ran over her hair as she put into words the last twenty years.

“Uh, so most of the last two decades were in the Dallas QZ,” she explained, “I stopped keeping track around fifteen. Most of my team from the Space Center ended up with me there, and FEDRA had us work on putting the zone together. Guess they thought all engineers were builders –but we basically directed people on how to make shuttles and parts of the shuttle; buildings are completely different.”

“I still can’t believe you were an engineer for NASA,” he admitted, smiling softly at her. “Makes sense since you were always takin’ shit apart and putting it back together, just to see how it worked.”

“I never thought it was an option, but that’s how I managed to get a radio that worked right; I managed to jerry rig something that could pick up on the towers communicating back and forth.” She just shrugged though, looking back down at her hands. “That’s how I found out about this place. Overheard someone passing along the message, and I started to map it out the best I could. I have a shit sense of direction, though.”

“You always did,” he recalled, giving her another small grin. “Remember when you convinced me to drive you and Tommy to Galveston for some concert and you got us lost?”

She smiled, and Joel was certain she was thinking back on it. He remembered that trip well; she’d just turned eighteen, and Tommy was about to head out to basic. They wanted to do something exciting before he left, having asked her parents to watch Sarah for the weekend. Halfway through the trip, she offered to help with Sarah; she hadn’t mentioned getting an offer to go to school in Seattle at that point. He was just happy to have someone who wanted to be there. 

He remembered how packed the cab of the truck was, and how she was practically in his lap the entire trip there. At the time, it was like he was suddenly seeing her for more than the girl who hung out with his little brother. She was lively, and excited. Her laughter filled the cab, and he couldn't help but feel drawn to her energy. He wanted to spend more time with her, to hear her laugh and chat his ear off. Even when he realized they were lost as shit, it didn’t matter because he was just content with her beside him. Until Tommy reminded them they missed the concert, of course.

“We ended up there eventually!” 

“After the fucking concert was over, a day late.”

“We still got there,” she argued, and Joel appreciated that the memory got her to smile just a little. But it faded as she continued to speak. “I told my team, and we were gonna get out of there. After a while though, it's like…like my team just started to disappear. Couple were killed by FEDRA for breaking rules; two others got sick. Then it was just me and…I figured if I was gonna go, I had to go then or never. Think that was, shit. I don’t know? Three years ago?

“I was fine for a year and half, on my own. Didn’t have a fucking clue where I was going, but I was doing okay. And then…I stumbled on this group of survivors –two women, three men. I offered them some supplies to show I wasn’t there to hurt them, and they told me they were headed here too. So I joined them. That’s…that’s when it got bad.

“Lilla, one of the ladies, got infected and attacked us. She bit one of the men, Travis. Obviously we killed them, and got away. But then, I don’t know, the leader of the group –his name was Ryan, he’s the one that you killed –got this sick idea that hunting people was the best way to survive. His wife agreed, and his brother just went along with it. I thought they were psycho, told them and that’s when…well, they decided it was me they would hunt.”

“What the fuck,” Joel mumbled, brow furrowing as he listened to her. Her hand was trembling now, and he reached out to take both her hands in his now. She closed her eyes, tears falling again as she clutched his hands tight. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re safe now.”

“Long story short, I managed to kill the wife and brother about six months into their stupid ass game; Ryan just kept…he kept finding me. Every time I got away, he showed up. He’d get close enough, get a hold of me –drug me, stab me, whatever he could to slow me down –then let me go again. When you found me…that was, I don’t know, I think the third or fourth time he’d caught me and threw me back out. Like I was some game piece. Then…then you killed him and suddenly, I was free again but I thought I was dying, and…and…”

Finally, he pulled her into his arms, holding her close to him as she started to cry again. Joel’s stomach churned, the thought of her being hunted for nearly two years. He couldn't imagine what she must have gone through, the fear and uncertainty that must have plagued her every waking moment. He had always known that she was strong, but now he realized just how resilient she truly was. Despite the being fucking hunted, she had never given up. He felt a deep sense of respect and admiration for her, and he knew that he would do anything to make sure that she felt safe again. He’d failed her once before; he wouldn’t do so again.

As she cried in his arms, he whispered words of comfort to her, promising her that he would always be there for her. He knew that it would take time for her to heal, to overcome the trauma she had experienced, but he was healing too; he was just as broken as she was. And he wanted to heal with her –with Ellie too. In that moment, as he held her close, he realized he had to keep both her and Ellie safe; that he couldn’t fail them both.

He also realized, then, that he had to continue with Ellie to the university.

Joel pulled back, just enough to take her face in his hands. Tears were in her eyes as she looked up at him, and he couldn’t hold his back anymore. There was hesitation; a fear that lingered before he leaned in and pressed his lips against hers, feeling the weight of all the emotions between them. It was a kiss born out of sadness; trauma. But also one of comfort and understanding. It took a moment for her to respond to the kiss, but when she did, she returned with a fierceness that surprised them both. Their lips molded together, and their bodies pressed closer as the intensity of their emotions heightened. They both needed this connection, this moment of shared vulnerability, to ease the pain of their past. 

They stayed that way for a long moment, lost in each other, before finally pulling away, breathless. Joel rested his forehead against hers, his eyes closed, feeling grateful for the connection they shared. As they finally broke apart, gasping for air, she looked up at him with tears still in her eyes. But they were different tears now, ones of relief and hope. 

“I have to leave,” he whispered, searching her eyes as he pulled back, taking her face in his hands. “I have to take Ellie to Colorado –there’s doctors there; she’s immune somehow. They…they think they can make a cure.”

Her brow furrowed as she processed what he was saying, trying to understand what he was trying to get at. Her hand fingers wrapped around his wrists, holding him in place. Her eyes dropped, just briefly, on the string around his wrist –to the charm he’d taken years ago. Her tears fell even harder as she realized what it was. “Joel, I-I don’t –,”

“Come with us,” he practically begged, his voice breaking as he did. “I…I can’t lose you again. I won’t. Come with us, and help me get her there. Then we can come back here when the doctors get what they need, and you and I…we can try again; make up for the time we lost.”

She nodded frantically, tears falling over his hands as she started to cry again. He wiped her tears away, pulling her close to rest his forehead against hers once more.

“Yes!” Ellie suddenly exclaimed, running into the room again. 

Joel pulled back, though her hands found his to keep him close. “Ellie –,”

“I knew you wouldn’t let go with Tommy!” Ellie continued, throwing her arms around Joel’s neck from behind. “You fucking softie, I knew it!”

One of Joel’s hands reached up, patting Ellie’s arm with a small chuckle. She looked between the two for a moment, a soft smile coming to her lips. Joel looked back at her, unable to help the smile that came to him either. 

Maybe they’d be okay after all.

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

Hi! I love your writing so much I’m so happy I fell on this account 💖 Your dark turtles works made me think of a scenario for the 2003: Fast Forward series? 👉👈

After Dark Leo gets wounded and is kept in the turtle’s medical bay, reader brings him food and checks up on him. He tolerates reader and even slowly gets to enjoy their company. Dark Leo feels territorial at the sight of Leonardo with reader knowing he clearly has a crush on them. He starts being jealous and feels the urge to steal Leonardo’s place to get reader’s affection and claim them.

Caught Between Light and Darkness (Angst..?/Fluff)

Dark Leo x reader x FastForward!Leonardo

A/N: Today we’re doing a crossover between the Fast Forward boys and our Dark Turtle cuties. I love it!😍🖤💙

Warnings: Jealous dark Leo, and Leonardo trying to show off😂🖤💙 Oh, and faking of pain.

So far, the plan had gone mostly as planned. Leo had gotten access to the penthouse, even if that meant he now was locked up behind a holographic field that was only lifted when Donatello or one of the other turtles had to get in close, in order to take a look at his wounds. It wasn’t hard for Leo to fake irritation, as to be honest, he found his counterparts very annoying. Always so happy and bright, with a tendency to turn on the light before he was ready for it, causing him not only frustration, but headaches and the kind of pain a kanabo clone would feel from sudden light. Absolute pains in the ass they were.

Well, most of them. There was one that Leo wouldn’t necessarily call a pain, but only a minor irritation… or maybe just a little prickle in the side. You were… not exactly like the others. You seemed to understand how lights worked with Leo, and took the time to slowly turn on the light. And you brought him food. A lot of food. Even after the first day where Leo flipped a tray and told you to leave him the hell alone, you continued to come with food, with or without the other turtles. Sometimes you would just come into the med bay and do nothing but sit and talk to him. At first Leo found it strange, and spent a long time trying to figure out what you were trying to do. But as time went on, Leo came to a realization - you were not trying on anything. You were there simply to talk to him. To keep him company and to check in on his well being. And that… had not been part of Leo’s plan.

Leo had only been in the penthouse med bay for a week, and he already found himself looking forward to the moment that you would walk through the door, with food or not. Though he never smiled your way, or gave any sign that he had come to enjoy your presence, Leo waited and looked forward to you, every single day. Sometimes he would even act like he was asleep, keeping a small eye on you as you made your way around the room.

For a time Leo forgot what he actually was there to do - to make the turtles trust him, giving him the opportunity to let the other dark turtles in, all so they could prove to Darius Don that they weren’t as thick headed as he liked to call them, and deserving of better ways of living. More food for Leo and his brothers was one of the main reasons he decided to do this, but as he laid still, watching you with half closed eyes, he momentarily forgot that goal. Instead he found himself wondering if you had always been so nice and sweet. He must have overlooked it while he and his brothers fought their counterparts. But even back then, Leo had noticed your beauty. It was hard to overlook, even when his focus had been on his non kanabo counterpart, and his annoyingly fast moves. That little blue covered grimling could make Leo’s blood boil sometimes. But he had never felt his blood boil over the same way, as it did one of the following days.

Leo sat out on the balcony in his medical bed, kept from going anywhere due to the energy shield surrounding him. Laying his side, trying to protect himself from the sun in the sky, that kept blinding his eyes and making his head hurt. Not off to a good start.

It had been Splinter and Donatello’s idea to pull Leo out in the sun, so that he could get some “fresh” air and some “healthy” sunlight, being kept company by Splinter doing gardening and Donatello practicing with his bow staff on a mat.

Splinter tried to engage the annoyed kanabo clone in some friendly conversation, but was only met by grumbles and spatting sounds from the large blue turtle. Leo had no desire to talk with anyone, while the sun was cooking him alive. What about kanabo did these people not understand?! Donatello had said something about his turtle side, but Leo couldn't care less. The sun was nothing but a burning ball of pain, and Leo wanted it gone. Fucking drown it with the water Donatello had provided him on the side table. Had it not been for that damned energy shield, Leo might just had snuffed out the life of the sun, and then thrown himself on the still overly happy and talking rat and turtle, grabbing them with his bare hands, and-.

“Do you guys have space for two more out here?”

Leo’s anger and frustration was instantly replaced by intrigue and curiosity, along with a small amount of longing, and maybe even… happiness, the moment Leo heard your sweet voice.

You stood in the glass doorway from the penthouse to the balcony, a mat rolled up under your arm, making it very clear that you had intended to train out on the sunny balcony. Your presence brought life to Leo, but before he could move in his medical bed, someone came into view behind you. The exact same someone that Leo would throw into the sun before dunking it with water - Leonardo. The sight of Leonardo with a mat under his own arm, put a big damper on Leo’s mood. Of course he was there too.

“Of course, (Y/N)”, Master Splinter said, smiling at you and his eldest son. “There’s always space for more out here”.

And so, you and Leonardo folded your mats out on the balcony and begging stretching, warming up for your training.

Staying on his side with his shell facing the sun, Leo forced himself not to look at you and Leonardo training together. But then Leo heard you laugh, finally looking at where you and Leonardo had now started going through stances. Leonardo stood behind you, positioning your body the correct way, every once in a while tilting your hips, accidentally tickling you as he did so. With every small tickle, you instinctively would move your arms around yourself, meaning that Leonardo would have to reposition your arms once again, for a moment wrapping his arms around your from behind. And that almost sent Leo spiraling. Especially when he realized how much Leonardo was enjoying it. With every laugh that escaped you, and movement of your arms, Leonardo would laugh, playfully scold you, before doing the whole deal all over again, at one moment even hugging you from behind, while the two of you almost fell over laughing. It was a blood boiling sight that hit Leo with a sudden realization. If Leo had started growing fond of you, then was it possible that his DNA source also had? It hit Leo harder than a brick wall, and caused a headache stronger than the sunlight ever could. Just like Leo, Leonardo had developed a crush on you. A big crush, only rivaled by Leo’s.

Leo watched you and Leonardo, feeling his body tense up and his breath growing shallow. He clenched his fist and grinded his teeth as you and Leonardo started sparring. Seeing you listening to Leonardo’s every word, your attention fully on him, as you did your best to improve your punches and ducks, your smile and eyes sparkling whenever he praised your doings. But when Leonardo suddenly grabbed your arm, followed by a series of movements that had you pinned on the ground underneath him, with Leonardo smiling proudly above you, Leo couldn’t take it anymore. He couldn’t just watch his sun loving counterpart attempt to take over your heart. No, Leo had to do something about it.

And so, Leo threw himself on the ground next to the medical bed, making sure to land on his injured arm, and let out a loud cry of pain. You reacted instantly, pushing Leonardo off of you, and screaming at Donatello, telling him to turn off the energy shield. Donatello scrabbled in haste with the buttons on his forearm, before the shield was turned off, allowing you to hurry to the side of Leo.

You made your way up to Leo’s head stretching out your leg, before rolling him onto his back, allowing his head to rest on your thigh, while you began undoing the wrappings around his shoulder, in order to take a better look at his injured arm, all while Donatello quickly made his way over to help.

With his head resting on your thigh, Leo could look directly up at you, quickly catching your eye as Donatello started to move and bend his arm. Leo faked an expression of pain, causing you to hold onto his head, softly rubbing your thumbs against his temples in soothing motions. Leo had to swallow his deep churr before it could boom through his chest, and break the scene he had put on. Yet the small sound he accidentally made caused you to grow even more worried, focusing all your attention on trying to calm him down while Donatello continued to check his arm and shoulder.

“You’re okay, Leo”, you spoke softly, your words like butter to his ears, while your fingers continued to make soft shapes on his face. “You’re doing great. Just relax, and it will be over before you know it”.

“Thank you, (Y/N)”, Leo said, straining his voice to make it sound like he was in pain, throwing a quick look towards Leonardo, who stood with Master Splinter. While Splinter looked on in concern, Leonardo stood with his arms crossed, a showling look on display. Leo had to bite his tongue in order not to smile. Of course Leonardo knew what Leo was doing, his was his clone for fuck sake. He could easily tell when Leo was faking pain. But was he going to say that out loud, and risk your anger? Hell no. Instead he would just stare disapprovingly at Leo, letting him know that he had caught on to his little act. And so Leo looked back up at you, finding your concerned eyes, while enjoying your warm hands against his face. “It’ll get better now that you’re here”.

[tgmsunmontue]

You need to learn how to fall 3/10

Hangster (and IceMav) - Bradley is too tall to be a naval aviator and instead becomes a sky diver, specialising in spin recovery. He is a civilian contractor to the Airforce and Navy to teach pilots how to survive parachute spins from ejections. A more in-depth version of this post.

PROLOGUE 2003-2006

2007-2010 – The middle years

                He ends up with another part-time job, fortunately using his human performance part of his degree and working as a personal trainer, mostly early mornings. Jumping out of planes is expensive. He moves out of the house him and Mav usually live in, but months later ends up moving in with Ice when he’s diagnosed with cancer. They don’t sugar coat things, not now that he’s an adult. He has to listen to them talk about wills and property and investments and assets; wants to stick his head in the sand and just chant la-la-la until it all goes away. He doesn’t want to consider his life without them both in it. Hard enough to think he’s already lost his actual parents, he can’t lose them too.

                He sits through it though, signs forms he reads carefully because both Ice and Mav frown and look disappointed the first time he signed without even looking. They get similar forms for him, given his current career and he’s pretty sure Mav has to excuse himself to go and throw up when he says he doesn’t want to be kept on life support indefinitely if he has a bad fall. Ice just nods and accepts his decision with quiet equanimity and he wonders if it’s because he is facing his own mortality. He starts a YouTube channel, figures out how to take effective video and then edit it properly. Loads them up without commentary; originally it’s for those he’s taken up for tandem jumps, but then it’s for other instructors around the country, and then a couple of them move overseas. His channel has a small but dedicated following.

                One of the silver linings of Ice’s cancer diagnosis is the fact he seems to no longer give any fucks about what people might say about his relationship with Mav. Don’t ask, don’t tell is still in effect but it’s also definitely very firmly in the don’t tell realm as far as Bradley can figure out. Everyone who they interact with seems to simply know that they’re together, and have been for as long as everyone remembers. Definitely for as long as he remembers. No one wants to tell and he guesses that Ice is high enough up that there’s probably blind-eyes all over the place.

                Then Ice insists on Mav moving in, which he promptly leaves the house for, not wanting to hang around for listening to the argument or hearing the makeup sex that will surely follow. So they put the house on the market, then he’s given the money and told he can finally buy the plane he wants which he delays a little and carefully shops around, listening to the advice of his old instructors and also Ice and Mav. All his gifts for years are centered around either skydiving or filming and editing software. It doesn’t escape his notice that Mav’s gifts tend towards the safer indoor aspects, while Ice tends toward the safety needs. They’re both supportive in their own ways.

                Living together, all of them, properly for the first time, results in the sudden influx of photos that pop up, every flat surface has frames with photos and Ice starts taking more photos. All of their lives are visually documented on the walls and bookshelves, although Bradley notes the front room Ice uses as a study and work room remains very formal and devoid of any personal touches. Other than formal portraits, like his graduation photo. Regardless of what room he’s in he feels like he is at home.

…             …           �� …

                His nightmare becomes a reality, although not in full. The call he got was from Bradley, starting off with I’m alive but I’m on the way to the hospital. He’d then passed the phone over to someone else. Apparently he’d taken a bad landing after being forced to use his second backup shute. He’d been too close to the ground so had hit it hard. His hands are shaking as he walks down the hospital corridor, the only thing that has him not vomiting is the fact that Bradley is the one who called him. That Bradley was alive; maybe not alive and well, but alive enough to call him.

                “Bad fall,” Mav mutters. “Like he’s tripped over the front step and grazed his hands…”

                He pushes the door open to Bradley’s room. He’s pale, face covered in bandages, one arm in a cast and both legs in braces, but not as he’d imagined a broken spine and him being in something like full-traction it’s a little bit of a relief.

                “He’s damned lucky.”

                “Doesn’t look lucky.”

                “He had his legs tucked up, hit the ground and rolled. Like it was as natural as breathing. He dislocated his shoulder but continued with the momentum… most people I know would have hit the ground feet-first despite years of training and the shock would have caused spiral fractures. They’ve braced his ankles as a matter of precaution because the x-rays showed no damage, which is a miracle but also isn’t surprising considering he walked into the hospital. We don’t usually say that you can be a natural at skydiving, but this kid is definitely a natural.”

                Mav sighs.

                Of course he is.

…             …             …

                “If the cancer didn’t get me, then I’m sure jumping out of a plane isn’t going to kill me either.”

                “Fighting words. It’s a good thing I’m taller than you. When we come into land you’re going to lift your legs.”

                He listens as Bradley takes him through everything, despite the fact that he knows it all, having listened to it so often he’s pretty sure he could repeat it back, learning it alongside Bradley and quizzing him on it. He can follow Bradley’s instructions, he’s in the Navy. When he’s strapped to Bradley, waved the all-clear he feels a little frisson of abject terror but it’s too late, he’s falling toward to the ground and then his fear fades away and he lets out a whoop of joy, hears Bradley’s amused laughter before it’s whipped away by the rushing air. They hit the ground and it’s gentler than he thought it would be.

                “Woo! What a rush!”

                “Yeah? You like it?”

                “It reminds me of my first launch off a carrier. Damn. Yeah. I get it now. Love you kid,” he says, knocking his own helmet against Bradley’s, the words aren’t ones he says often, but feels the need to say them more often now. Doesn’t want Bradley to ever doubt how he feels. Mav either for that matter…

                “Love you too.”

…             …             …

                “You were both up there, together.”

                He should have known it would give Mav another nightmare and he curls himself around him, makes gentle shushing noises under his breath, glad now that he doesn’t have to try and do this over the phone.

                “Do you trust him?”

                “Of course I do!”

                “Then know that skydiving, especially tandem skydiving is safer than driving to and from the hangar. Car accidents are far more common and hurt far more people than skydiving does. You’ve seen him with his gear. Hell, we check it. He’s damned good at what he does. He’s meant to be up in the air just as much as you are…”

                Mav lets out a little hiccupping breath and Tom knows he’s got something that’ll definitely take his mind of everything else.

                “You know, there’s something else I want to check off on my bucket list…” Tom says, and he’s not going to move, but his otherwise grand plans aren’t getting a look in right now. This feels right.

                “What?”

                “Pete Mitchell, will you marry me?”

…             …             …

                Ice and Mav leave plans on the table one night. An extension to the house, with a shared internal door but his own front door; effectively making two houses. A large bedroom, another room for an office with a desk, extension to the garage so he can store his gear, enough room to roll out his chutes and carry out checks. It’s very clearly an invitation to never move out, but also to live independently and he finds the sticky notes they use to communicate when they’re too busy to actually stop and talk. Simply draws a heart and writes love it in the center.

                He doesn’t bother looking at moving out of home again.

2011-2015 - The later years (NEXT PART)

[theredponcho]

I finally finished watching all 7 seasons of 2003 tmnt. I like the series as a whole and it might be my favorite iteration now but idk I might have to rewatch it again. Story wise I think its my favorite iteration. If were talking animation and comedy then rottmnt is my favorite.

Spoilers under the keep reading ⬇️

My favorite turtle in this iteration has to be Donnie. He was really intresting and I liked his personality a lot. It could also be that Im bias in my opinion since before I watched the series I was reading the fic Ghost in a Shell which was also one of the reasons why I decided to binge watch the series in the first place so who knows.

The shredder reminded me a lot of william afton from fnaf since…He always comes back. I swear they did everything to that guy and he just kept coming back. Decapitation, drowning/fire damage, electricution, and dragons??? Don't even get me started on stockman. It gave me flash backs to 2012 splinter. But 2012 splinter didn’t dye more so was assumed dead except for the ending and that one time in the space arc. I could go on a whole tangent talking about 2012 tmnt but we would be here all day. Maybe I’ll make a post on my thoughts on that if I feel like it.

I wish we could have seen more of cyberspace and learned more about how the future worked. I also would have liked to see more of professor honey cut he was cool.

I still have questions that were left unanswered mostly about the last season.

Did Serlion the future robot ever make it back to the future. I assumed he did eventually since it would probably screw up the time line or be very dark if he did end up staying in the present. Plus it would add a lot of plot holes.

What was that 3V3 shredder fight all about? During the begging of season 7 went viral was messing around with the time portal and sending the guys to different points in the past we saw a moment were 3 or 4 shredders were fighting each other along with a lot of foot clan members and I assumed that we would see this near the end of the season and this was just for shadowing what was gonna come and be the final epic fight because brain wash guy was their and the next episode after that we actually get to formally meet brain wash guy and we met a shredder that was basically resserected and they still needed to make a time portal which leaves room for more shredders to make a appearance. Idk maybe they just ran out of time and couldn’t do it so they just ended on the wedding and killed cyber shredder early or something.

Who in there right mind decide to change the turtles eyes and give them pupils in season 7? Im not mad I’m just disappointed. I didn’t mind the art style change in season 6. Sure it took some getting use to but I was able to get use to it after a while and find things I liked about it but I never really got over the pupils thing.

Is the shredder actually dead? The main core/program of the shredder is still tenically in cyberspace it wasn’t deleted (as far as im awear) so does that mean the shredder could still come back if he wanted to?

I would like to end this post on a cute picture of the guys if you read this far thank you. ❤️

[little-mouse-adventures]

A Timeline of Events in the Artemis Fowl Series

If anyone's interested, I did do an actual analysis for where I pulled some of these dates from. But because I cannot type succinctly to save my life, it's 5,000 words long, so that's below the cut. I also put the timeline there again, but in three separate images, so hopefully they load well enough to be fully legible if the above isn't.

A thousand thanks to @sadbitchapologist and @zahnie for their help and advice with this, despite neither of them having any more than the barest interest in the series and therefore having no clue what I was on about. Thanks also to @orangerosebush for fielding completely out-of-the-blue questions about the French school system, so I didn't have to attempt to navigate web search results to figure out what mandatory gym classes were like for the sole purpose of plotting Luc's birthday on here.

An Analysis of the Timelines in the Artemis Fowl Series

A Brief Introduction

The Artemis Fowl series is made up of eight books covering a range of years and events. I wanted to see how accurate the timelines present in the books were, as well as try and plot out some other details implied in the novels but not explicitly stated, to have a better understanding of the overall world-building. To that end, I went through the series and made the above timeline. I colour-coded it based on the relevance of the specific items to certain categories, namely Humans, Fairies, Villains, and the Series itself. This does mean that some things could have fit into multiple categories. For instance, you will see some items involving Opal categorized as Fairy-Specific (such as her college years, as those are fairly neutral to the main plot or her villainy), Villain-Specific (such as her setting up her emergency fund, as that is mostly related to her schemes as opposed to relevant to her existence as a fairy, or part of the main plot of the series), and Plot-Specific (such as her opening the Berserker Gate, the primary plot point for the final book).

Before we really delve into things though, we should establish the baseline assumptions I was working with. Firstly, I am only using the original series. I have not used anything written in The Fowl Twins trilogy, given that those books seem to ret-con a considerable amount of the original information, and that is far too many headaches to give myself. Any supplemental series information, such as the short stories found in The Artemis Fowl Files, or anything from interviews is also not included. The premise here is: using just the original books, what is the event timeline of the world? The second thing we need to establish is that I am using the North American releases of the novels. I did make notes on where each bit of information comes from, but there isn’t really a citation style for this kind of thing, so I’m not sure how relevant that is. The third assumption is that the first book takes place the year it was originally published. According to my copy, the original publication was 2001, with the first American paperback edition coming out in 2002, and the first mass market paperback being released in 2003. This means our starting point is in 2001.

For sake of clarity, this analysis will start with setting the dates of the books and continue on from there.

The Basics of The Books

With that out of the way, let’s talk about the first book, Artemis Fowl (AF). It is actually not until the very end of the book that we get a solid answer for when it takes place. It’s only in the last few pages of the novel that Angeline Fowl leaves her attic room after all the plot points are tied up and announces that it is Christmas Day. This might be cause for concern – Angeline had not previously been established as a particularly reliable narrator – but given that we are asked to believe that Holly’s ‘feel better’ mood booster worked, and that neither Butler nor Artemis balk at or question the pronouncement that is Christmas Day, we’ll accept that it’s true and move on. This means that, with Butler’s earlier announcement that he was stuck doing four months of stakeout, we can say with a fair amount of certainty that Artemis obtained and translated the Fairy Book in September 2001, and managed to capture a fairy in December of the same year.

Moving on to Artemis Fowl: The Arctic Incident (TAI), we are given a decent chunk of information, albeit spread out a bit. The first is the announcement that the ransom drop for Artemis Fowl I is to be held on the fourteenth. The fourteenth of what, you might ask? Well, we are told that Artemis is currently thirteen years old. Clearly, things are past September 1, 2002 (we know Artemis’s birthday is September 1 based on information in both the fifth and seventh books). We are also told that Luc Carrere has been trading with the goblins for six months, starting in July. That puts us in either December or January, but we can narrow it down further since Artemis gives us another helpful clue. He mentions they are not expecting to see the dawn while attempting to rescue his father in the Arctic. There are only a few latitudes on Earth where polar night (of any type) occurs, and at Murmansk, polar twilight occurs between December 10 – January 2. Combining all of this, we learn that TAI takes place December 14, 2002, give or take a few days to either side.

This can be corroborated by information in Book 3, Artemis Fowl: The Eternity Code (TEC). After Holly heals Artemis Senior, we are told that it takes over two months for him to wake up. Since we are specifically told two months, as opposed to two and a half or three, we can conclude that the events of TEC take place in March 2003. Mulch gives us some information that confirms this. He was living in LA “less than four months ago,” and since he was conscripted to help with the events of TAI in December, a March plotline fits the bill. We are given further confirmation as well: Spiro mentions that Artemis will be fourteen in six months. A specific date for Artemis & Co.’s attack on Spiro’s Needle can be pulled from the throw-away line that Pex and Chips are “burying” Mulch on the full moon. A quick web search tells us that the full moon in March of 2003 takes place on March 14, and the rest of the events in the novel take place roughly two days to either side of that.

In Artemis Fowl: The Opal Deception (TOD), the fourth book in the series, we are given several very clear indications of when the events take place. Firstly, Artemis is contemplating that at fourteen years and three months old, he is the youngest person to successfully obtain The Fairy Thief. Based on previously noted details that his birthday is in September, the events of TOD must take place in December of 2003. Additionally, we are told that things are the middle of winter and Opal has been in a coma for eleven months and counting as of the end of TAI, another December plot.

Artemis Fowl: The Lost Colony (TLC) requires the most math and interpretation so far to figure out when it takes place. We know Artemis is still fourteen, so the main events clearly happen sometime between January 2004 and September 2004. Beyond that, we are using a fair amount of context clues. Artemis and Butler have evidently been traveling for four months looking for demons, so we are dealing with events in at least May. But that still leaves us several summertime months to work with, so to establish a timeline here, we will need to look forward a bit. In the sixth book, Artemis Fowl: The Time Paradox (TTP), it’s noted that Artemis is not yet fifteen, and has, on multiple occasions, spent the full moon in the study. Ergo, he’s spent at least a few months back from Hybras. If he has been back for two months and not yet turned fifteen, he would have had to have returned by July at the latest, and since he returns almost three years later than he leaves, we are looking at him returning in either May or June. This would have him disappearing to Hybras – and by extension, dealing with the earlier events in the book – in June, July, or August. After his conversation with Minerva, he notes to Butler that they “are planning a June wedding,” which wouldn’t make sense to say if they were currently in the month of June. From all of this, we can extrapolate that the first three-quarters of TLC take place in late July or early August 2004, with the triumphant return of our intrepid heroes occurring in June 2007.

As previously stated, TTP mentions that Artemis is still not fifteen, but is nearly there. He has also been home again for at least two months. This would put the events of the sixth book in August 2007. At least, the events set in the current time period. TTP does bring back time travel, and with it some problems. We are told that Artemis and Holly jump back nearly eight years to Artemis being ten and trying to fund searches for his missing father. This would put the events of the past in early 2000. However, other details presented regarding Artemis Senior’s disappearance, which we will discuss later, make that impossible. Artemis also admits, in TEC, that he was eleven when his father disappeared, not ten. If we take a bit of creative license with our interpretations and base the time-jump to the past on other presented information as opposed to the dates given in TTP, we can say that Holly and Artemis instead return to early 2001. This lines up with further details, such as the sinking of the Fowl Star (as calculated a few paragraphs down in this analysis) occurring in December of 2000, and the textual confirmation in TTP that it’s barely two months past that sinking when Artemis brokers the deal(s) regarding the silky sifaka lemur. Since, at the end of the day, the time jump impacts very little in the grand scheme of things, and the year 2001 actually fits in better with other textual evidence and events, that’s what I’m going with for this timeline.

The seventh book, Artemis Fowl: The Atlantis Complex (TAC) gives us a very helpful base point! It takes place on Artemis’s fifteenth birthday, September 1. From our previous results on setting dates for book events, that would be September 1, 2007. The sections in which Butler and Juliet are fighting mesmerized wrestling fans and meeting up with Mulch are noted in the novel as happening “the day before,” which would fall on August 31, 2007.

Artemis Fowl: The Last Guardian (TLG), the eighth and final book in the series, creates some problems. If we assume that Artemis starts receiving treatment for his Atlantis Complex immediately after diagnosis in TAC¸ that would put him receiving treatment in September 2007. We are told he is certified as cured after six months. Yet we are also told that the rest of the events of the book take place in the week or so leading up to the Christmas holidays. Everything so far has said that the Artemis Fowl series follows the current calendar, in which case there is no way that six months can fit between September 1, 2007 and December 25, 2007. However, the only reference to Christmas is in two lines noting that the Fowl parents were planning on holidaying with their children on a foreign beach. If we simply say that six months have passed, and they are instead planning on spending the Irish school system’s spring holidays in the French Riviera, everything else lines up much better. So that’s what I’ve done. This would also put the resurrection of Artemis, after the events of the book and a further six months have passed, at roughly September of 2008. There is a pleasing symmetry to Artemis being born and then re-born in September, though if you want to get really technical and say the events of TLG take place during the 2008 March full moon as Opal claims (as noted in another web search as March 28), a six-month wait time for the clone to grow would put the resurrection in October. Still, there is something to be said for having a boy’s ghost haunting a clone of himself close to All Hallows. Since it’s the last plot point of the series, you can choose which you’d like; it doesn’t have to lead to anything else after it.

Let’s Talk Timelines: The Beginning of the Line to The End of The 19th Century

Now that we have our baseline book time periods established, we can get into the math used to determine some of the events in the timeline above. Several events are easy; we are given specific dates for them. Turnball Root meets Leonor in 1938, Juliet wins the Miss Sugar Beet Fair beauty contest in 1999. Other things are based on some basic math, such as Artemis claiming his parents got married fourteen years prior to AF¸ putting that event in 1987.

The majority of the items on the above timeline, however, do take some mathematics, extrapolation, and interpretation to plot out. To try and keep everything organized, we’ll start at the far left of the timeline, and work our way forwards, looking at events oldest-to-newest to explain why they are where they are on the graph. I won’t be getting too in-depth on everything in the graph, since I’m not sure how relevant the notes on the very minor side characters such as Carla Frazetti are, but I’ll at least try to touch on some of the more relevant points.

To start with, the Battle of Taillte was noted in the 2000’s as being ten thousand years ago, putting that at 8000 BCE. Similarly, the last dome breach at Atlantis was apparently eight thousand years ago in the 2000’s, so that would be 6000 BCE. Troll sideshows were legal in the early middle ages, which implies they were not legal after that. A quick web search says the early middle ages ended around 1000. The first crusades were in 1096-1099, and as those crusades are the start point of the Butler-Fowl working relationship, a point for noting that comes next on the graph.

From there, we get into more modern – relatively speaking – events. Briar Cudgeon and Julius Root are noted as attending the LEP Academy together and being raised in the same tunnel, as well as having about 600 years of history together. If one assumes “being raised in the same tunnel” is similar to the human equivalent of “growing up in the same neighbourhood,” we can assume the two were born roughly 600 years ago, in the 1400’s. Vinyaya is portrayed as being of a similar age to Root, so her birth can also be put in the same general era. We are also told that Fowl Manor was originally a castle built in the fifteenth century, that in the early 2000’s the theories of timeline corruption were first introduced over five centuries ago, and that cloning has been banned for over five hundred years, so those three events are also tossed into the 1400’s.

Julius Root is noted as doing his LEP basic training 500 years ago in Ireland, so that would have to be in the 1500’s. He would have attended the Academy before then, putting that in the mid-to-late 1400’s. As previously stated, he was in the Academy with Cudgeon. Opal also met Cudgeon in college, and competed with Foaly for science prizes there, so they were all in school at the same time.

Mulch now enters the picture. We aren’t ever given a specific age range for him, but we are told about his career. He has, apparently, spent three centuries in and out of prison after a couple centuries of success as a thief. This would make him at least five hundred years old. There is a brief mention that he tried the athletic route at college before becoming a thief, so he would have to be an adult at that point, putting his age at roughly 550 years during the events of the series.

We then enter a period filled in from one-off lines throughout the series, presumably added to give some depth to the world. Things about the wine cellar at Fowl Manor being a seventeenth century addition, Captain Eusebius Fowl and his crew dying in the eighteenth century, and Mulch first faking his own death over two hundred years ago.

Time Marches On: The 20th Century

There is nothing of much relevance to linger on between the 1550’s and the 20th century, so we’ll jump ahead to the 1900’s, when we have Holly Short’s birthday. She is in her eighties during TLC, and her father died “over twenty years ago” when she was “barely sixty” as of TAI. Based on that, she would have been in her early eighties in 2002, putting her birthday sometime in the 1920’s. What a doll.

A few more birthdays now appear, and we’ll ignore, for the most part, some of the irrelevant ones. I don’t think we are at all concerned with Gaspard Paradizo’s birthday, or Mikhael Vassikin. We are, however, rather more interested in Jon Spiro, Domovoi Butler, and Artemis Fowl I.

Jon Spiro enters the series in TEC, as a middle-aged American. A quick search on the Internet says that middle age is generally noted as being between the ages of 40 to 60. We are told that Spiro has worked in three main industries over the past two and a half decades. Additionally, we are told that law enforcement has been “trying to put [him] away for thirty years.” If we assume he entered the working world at twenty, spent five years developing his professional self, and then started going down a path of questionable legality to get the police after him, that would put him at fifty-five in 2003, and born in the late 1940’s.

It was a bit easier to determine Domovoi Butler’s age, and we can get more specific with his actual birthday. We are told that he is forty at the start of TEC, and he is still forty during TOD. From that, we can assume his birthday is not between March – December, which means it has to be between January – March. Now, we can just leave things there, but contextually, Butler says in late March 2003 that “a lot of people know [him] as a forty-year old man.” Since I doubt he’s the kind of person who introduces himself by announcing that his birthday was last week, we can assume that his birthday is not in March. Since about half the books in the series take place in December, and there is never any mention of Butler’s birthday coming up soon, we can likely assume it isn’t in January. We can therefore conclude Butler was born in February, 40 years before 2003, which puts his birth year in 1963.

We then have Artemis Fowl I. This one took the most extrapolation to determine. We know he has run an ethical empire for a few years as of 2007, which coincides with his return to his family after being kidnapped by the Mafia. He apparently ran a successful criminal empire for two decades before that, though, so in 2007 he has been working for at least 25 years. Based on the interactions he had with his own son, I’ve assumed he was also taught to take over the family business from a young age. If he started working at his age of majority at 18 (as possible in the 1980’s in Ireland, based on a web search), we can assume he was born in roughly the mid 60’s.

Billy Kong, born Jonah Lee, is one to touch on. He plays a large role in TLC, during which we are given possibly the most backstory of any villain in the series. He was evidently born in the early 1970’s, and was eight years old in the early 1980’s. Mathematically, that can only lend itself to so many birth years, so it’s easy enough to put his birthdate somewhere in 1973, and his brother’s death date in 1981.

While we’re here, let’s talk about the 1980’s. A lot of things happen in the 80’s, so we’ll be here for a few paragraphs. Butler would have graduated Madam Ko’s Academy in the early ‘80s, Artemis I would have started working in his family’s business and stolen some warrior mummies (of note, the theft is only noted as being in Artemis Sr.’s “gangster days,” but if you are a young, rich criminal, you’d likely commit a wild theft in your early years as opposed to your thirties, which is why this is put in here). Additionally, in the mid 1980’s, Holly graduates the LEP Academy and her mother dies, as noted in TTP when she is contemplating missing three years of her friends lives.

Butler would have started his five-year stint in Russia with an espionage unit in the mid-to-late 80’s, and become a big brother in 1985. Juliet is noted at being four years older than Artemis in AF in 2001, and he is twelve then, making her sixteen at the time. We can extrapolate the month from TEC, wherein she is apparently eighteen when she is called regarding her brother’s apparent death. At the time, we are told what gifts she received for her birthday, implying it was fairly recent. Additionally, Artemis was only thirteen at that time, which would make Juliet five years older than Artemis. If, however, we trust that acolytes at Madam Ko’s start their training on their tenth birthday and get one chance to graduate per year, it would make sense for that one chance to be on their birthday, or within a day or two to allow for as much training time as possible. Since Juliet was in the midst of this one graduation evaluation when she gets the phone call and joins the crew for the March heist at Spiro’s Needle, she’d have to be born in March. (We can also corroborate this with some details from AF: if AF  takes place in mid-September, that would be just after Artemis’s birthday, which puts the 4-year age difference back into play.)

Spelltropy begins for the People in 1987, if it appeared 20 years ago from 2007. Artemis I and Angeline Fowl would get married in 1987. They would have their first child, Artemis Fowl II, in 1989, as calculated by Artemis being twelve during the initial siege of the Manor in December 2001. Artemis II’s grandfather was noted as having been dead for over ten years at that point, and it was mentioned in TEC that Angeline married her husband before he really took over the family business, so those events would likely happen when Artemis was but a baby in 1990.

The ‘90s are a period where a lot of things are happening, but few are particularly important. Spelltropy has a cure found, Minerva Paradizo is born, Juliet begins her bodyguard training and her brother refuses to let her shave her hair. These, and other events in the 90’s, are mostly calculated by math along the lines of “Event A happened X number of years ago,” but since the 90’s was mostly a time of worldbuilding events rather than plot events, we’ll just skim over the specific details.

‘You Are Here’: The 21st Century, and Where The Storytelling Begins

Welcome to the 2000’s! The kick-off point of not only the 2000’s, but also the entire series, is the sinking of the Fowl Star. We aren’t given a specific date for this, but we are given enough information to extrapolate the date. Specifically, in September 2001, in AF, we are told Fowl Sr. has been missing for almost a year. In TAI, in December, we are told he has been missing for almost two years. That does have the potential to have the ship go down in either December or January, so we need to use a bit more details from TAI to make a final determination. Mikhael Vassikin and Kamar were told to dump Fowl’s body in the Kola if he didn’t wake up in “another year,” so they’ve been looking after him for one at that point. Fowl Sr. wakes up two weeks before the deadline, and as noted earlier, the ransom drop for him takes place December 14, after he has been awake for perhaps a week. From that, we can tell that the deadline for “another year” was mid to late December, putting the initial sinking of the Fowl Star in late 2000.

The analysis gets a bit confusing at this point, because 2001 is when future Artemis and Holly join the party via time travel, as well as having their regular selves in the timestream. Essentially, we’ve established the timeline for the events of TTP above, so we know the whole lemur fiasco takes place in March 2001. Artemis wakes up at the end of that book thinking about fairies, which ties in rather neatly to him then dragging Butler across three continents for six false alarms (with an assumed approximate 3 weeks between each jaunt) before striking metaphorical gold in Ho Chi Minh City in September. During their time-traveling, Holly also gets a chance to talk to Root, who wonders why she isn’t in Hamburg, which was noted in AF as Holly’s first major failure as a Recon officer and was nearly preceding the events of AF. The time-traveling would also mean that Opal would have had to harvest her DNA for future diabolical plans before March 2001, when her younger self travels to the future. Since it takes up to two years to grow a clone to adulthood, and her clone has to be ready in September 2003, we are a few months off in the time requirements, but really, for a practice that’s been outlawed for 500 years, I can offer a bit of leeway.

We are now well and truly in the thick of the main events of the series. Most of this will be tied into the initial assessments we made way at the beginning of this essay, where we established when each book occurs. Because of this, we aren’t going to spend time on anything plot-related. However, a brief note on Turnball Root and Artemis’s Atlantis Complex is likely in order. Artemis was, as previously stated, dealing with his return from Hybras and the after-effects of stealing magic during July and August of 2007. His Atlantis Complex, and Turnball Root’s plan to escape the Deeps prison, are in full swing in September of that year. We have a brief note in TAC during the evacuation of Atlantis, that Turnball had, a month before, spied on Artemis and noted his Atlantis Complex developing. Therefore, Artemis’s Complex likely came into play in late July or early August 2007. This is close enough to Artemis’s magic theft to make sense for the deterioration of his mental health, and enough time for Butler to have started to notice something was wrong, as he did. We can therefore assume that Atlantis Complex, at least in the case of magic-stealing humans who have a propensity for time travel and getting involved in supremely complicated and improbable plots, develops relatively quickly.

This leaves just one major discussion point from the last few books: the age of Artemis’s twin brothers, Beckett and Myles. The twins are first introduced at the very end of TLC. They are written as being two during the events of TTP, three during the events of TAC, and four during the events of TLG. Regardless of the time-traveling shenanigans of their elder brother, it is impossible for the twins to age two years in the eight months between Artemis’s return from Hybras in June 2007 and the finale of the series in March of 2008, so we need to look at what makes sense.

Myles has already potty-trained himself, and done so at fourteen months, so they must be at least that old. Their other behaviours would make sense for them to be two in TTP. Diapers are still a part of their lives, and their language and vocabulary fit what a two-year-old would have, at least in Beckett’s case. Since Artemis was surprised by their existence, it doesn’t seem likely that  Angeline would have known she was pregnant, or at least not have told Artemis yet, when he went to Limbo. Ergo, they can’t be any older than two, since (one would hope) Artemis would have noticed his mother’s pregnancy if the twins were any older.

Additionally, in TLG, we know Artemis gave his brother a birthday present, so he had to have been around during the twin’s birthday at least once. With this fact, the twins cannot be born between March – June, which just leaves the question of when are the twins born?

 The most logical answer is February 2005. If Angeline was early on in her pregnancy, say six weeks (which is when most women start noticing symptoms), when Artemis disappeared in July 2004, she wouldn’t necessarily have told him yet. Then, if we assume that since most twin births occur around the 35-week mark, that would math out to having the twins be born in February of 2005. Fast forward, and they would turn one in February 2006, and two in February 2007, which puts them at the correct age for the events of TTP. [One could argue, of course, that a twin pregnancy in an older woman (unfortunately, there is nothing in the series to indicate Angeline’s age) and in a woman already dealing with significant stress could result in a very premature birth, thereby voiding any of this math and leaving the whole question of the twin’s birthday unanswered. However, since I’d rather not subject the Fowl parents to the strife and misery of having one son missing and presumed dead, and their younger children in the NICU with a low survival rate, I’m working with the assumption that the pregnancy was a healthy and normal one.]

The brief comment from Juliet in TAC about the twins being three can be passed off by them being a little over two-and-a-half and Juliet not being around as she is touring in Mexico. By the time TLG takes place, in March of 2008, the twins would have had their third birthday, allowing for Artemis to give Myles his chair as a birthday present, Beckett to be old enough to no longer need diapers, and the behaviours to act more like children than infants. While this doesn’t quite allow for the repeated textual confirmations in TLG that the twins are four, we’ll go with what mathematically makes sense.

That brings us to the end of the timeline! Not everything is touched on in the timeline, and not everything in the books is plotted (we are never given enough context to know Foaly’s or Opal’s birthdates, for instance). But the main events of the Artemis Fowl series are all analyzed, mathematically or logically or textually corroborated, and plotted out, for use or ignoring as personal preference dictates.

[catsockpuppet]

Gothicpopcorn - Relationship Ramble

TWs: sex is mentioned, unhealthy relationships, uhh yeah.

before reading this, i recommend you check out my ethan lore masterpost for further context!

they/them for ethan, she/he/it for radford

First Meeting - ethan and radford met at a local park in the august of 2003 (they’re 18 and radford is 19). eth had been brought there by jaune for a Family Picnic, but she didn’t force eth to hang out. instead, ethan went to a more wooded part of the park in search of animal bones and other little trinkets. their search didn’t last long though, it was interrupted by a certain movie theater employee falling from the sky (a tree, technically). eth sat in the grass with him until it’s dad found the two and helped radford home (his ankle was sprained). they exchanged numbers.

after meeting for that first time, ethan and radford became decent friends. ethan wasn’t very open, they didn’t open up easily or express their interests and radford just straight up didn’t trust people so the two never got close. they barely knew eachother.

Hookup, The Catalyst - ethan had a gig in town, after which they and radford hooked up. this was kind of the catalyst for everything that happened afterwards. radford felt cared for, for once, even if she felt like ethan only cared for it’s body it was something.

they kept hooking up

“Dating” - they got together on february 15th, 2004. radford was desperate at this point, he wanted more, she wanted to feel loved, so she asked ethan out at 12:00 am (it took all of her courage to ask and he spent the entirety of valentines day hyping itself up). ethan agreed, but the two still weren’t close, it was awkward and messy, like living with a stranger.

it went on like this for a few years. radford was just using eth to fill a gap, and ethan knew that, they’d try to connect but eventually gave up

You Have A Sister? - in 2003, when ethan was 20 and radford 21 (yeah, they were really rocky for a While), was the first time ethan and radford actually got to know eachother. albeit a small amount. radford had ethan sleeping over when he woke up to them shufflinf around the room, they were climbing out the window. he sleepily followed, poking his head out as ethan climbed onto the roof. “what are you doing?” “stargazing.” “why?” ethan didn’t answer, which prompted radford to climb up with them. there was a flat section on the roof and radford laid against them once he was up there, it was cold.

for once, their touch felt warm. “there’s a meteor shower tonight,” “is that why you came out.?” “…i’m worried about morgana,” “who?” “my sister.” “w-you have a sister?” he pulled away from them, “since when?” “since 1997.” radford frowned. “sorry.”

after a moment he leaned back in, “tell me about her.”

it was the first time they really talked about something. the first time radford saw them.

the first time radford opened up was after a particularly shitty week at school, tons of exams and just the general stress of college made him exhausted. she went to ethan’s for the usual, it just wanted to feel something. but once she got there, he just, broke down. rad sobbed into eth as they simply held him until radford was so exhausted she fell asleep. ethan never pried or forced radford to talk about what was bugging her, but they did bring radford out to breakfast the next day and bought her a few little gifts at the mall (mostly comics).

by the time morgana was in the picture (2008) ethan and radford were still rocky, but started going to couple’s therapy for morgana’s sake. it took a while, but stuff worked out :)

[latoyalestrange]

IT’S NEVER OVER

Joel Miller x F!OC

Summary: Pre-breakout Joel and Tommy frequent a diner after work. Partly for the food, but mostly for a certain waitress that has caught Joel’s eye.

Words: ~2.6k

Warnings: age gap (legal ofc), swearing, typical tlou things

A/N: First official chapter!! I added a bunch of stuff so let me know what you think. I’m going to try to keep chapters at this length. Heart <3

CHAPTER ONE — WOMAN

MAY 1, 2003

Saturday night. Not quite as busy as Friday, but busy enough to make you question if the money you make at this place is worth it. But Jessie thought the same thing last Saturday, and the Saturday before. It was an endless cycle for her and thousands of other college students trying to make ends meet.

For Jessie in particular, this was her second shift of the day. Her first was spent at her mother’s hair salon; answering phones and sweeping up ungodly amounts of hair. It was boring, but, god, she wished she was there instead of at the diner.

At this moment, she was trapped in a conversation with a particularly talkative regular. She could hardly even understand him with the countless other conversations going on around her and the crashing of dishes being thrown in bus tubs. She mostly pretended to be engaged in the conversation.

As overwhelming everything was, Jessie kept her cool. She always did. No matter how rude or insufferable a customer was acting, she kept a sickeningly sweet smile on her face. She felt it was the perfect weapon, truly. In a world where being a young woman meant you were at a disadvantage, being overly kind and never letting anyone see they had bothered her was her defense mechanism.

“Hey, smiles!”

Ech. Jessie hated that nickname, but it snapped her out of the one-sided conversation she was stuck in. She reluctantly turned to meet whoever called her. To her surprise, it was someone she actually enjoyed talking to. Her smile returned as she left the old man to greet them.

Tommy and Joel Miller were two of Jessie’s favorite regulars. At least twice a week, they would come in to visit her. Jessie always thought they just really liked the food, but it was hardly good enough to come in twice a week for. They were here for her. Well, Joel was. Tommy was there for moral support.

“You’re just in time. I thought I’d never get away,” Jessie leaned up against the side of the booth as the two brothers sat down across from one another.

“You looked like you needed saving,” Tommy played along, sharing a knowing look with Joel.

Joel never talked nearly as much as Tommy. The most he would say was a few awkward lines of small talk and the occasional compliment if he worked up enough courage. Jessie took his shyness as just that. She thought his clumsy conversation starters and stuttered compliments were charming. She found him charming. A family man at his core, good with his hands, and not to mention, he was definitely easy on the eyes.

“What did you get up to today? Anything interesting?”

“Nope,” Joel retorts almost immediately, earning a giggle from her. “How was your day though?”

Tommy looks at Joel, a bit surprised that he actually sounded smooth. When the brothers were younger, Joel had no problem talking to women. After all, he taught Tommy how to talk to women. But it had been years since Joel had even wanted to try dating. He kept himself busy with Sarah and work and he liked it that way. The less time he had to himself, the less time he had alone with his thoughts.

“Better now,” She almost mumbles, putting her pen to her notebook. “The usual?” Tommy smiled at Joel as he struggled to find the right words for a moment, caught up on what she said.

“Yes, ma’am.” Tommy replies politely for him.

“You got it.” Jessie turned on her heel to return to the kitchen and put in their order. She kept a noticeable sway in her hips as she walked away, knowing that the boys are gentlemanly, but they are still men. And she was right.

“What was that. What did that mean.” Joel demands in a quiet voice, looking sternly at Tommy.

“Dude, she was flirting back! I told you it would work!” The brother exclaims in a hushed tone. A blush instantaneously formed on Joel’s cheeks and he covered it with his hand, playing it off as if he’s smoothing his facial hair down.

“No fuckin’ way, she didn’t mean it like that.” He looked around nervously to make sure she hadnt suddenly appeared and could hear everything they were saying.

“She definitely meant it like that. She looked back to make sure you were looking at it too.” Joel kicked him under the table, making him laugh.

“Shut the fuck up, man,”

“No, I’m serious--”

“No, shut up!” Joel said lowly through gritted teeth. Tommy turned to see Jessie arriving at the end of their table, two coffee’s in hand.

“Don’t make me separate you two.” She joked, setting the mugs down in front of them.

“He started it,” Tommy played along, making her laugh. Joel couldn’t help but smile at the sound.

“Behave. I’ll be back to check on you.” She turned away again to help another customer. Joel watched her leave again, not in a disrespectful way, but almost as if he wanted to savor every glimpse and angle he could of her. Her silhouette was engraved in his brain and he could picture her face perfectly. Her sunkissed skin from the Texas heat and wavy brown hair was constantly on his mind.

“You look like a creep right now.” Joel glared at Tommy, finally breaking his gaze from her.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Tommy,” He lets his head fall into his hands as his elbows are propped up on the table. He rubs his eyes and rubs his temples. “I can’t get her out of my head.”

“I can see why.” Joel opens his eyes again to see Tommy looking somewhere out of his field of vision but he doesn’t have to look to know what he’s looking at.

“Don’t look at her like that. She’s not like the girls you go after.”

“Oh, yeah? What kind of girls do I go after?” Joel glared at his brother again as he sipped his coffee now that it’d cooled a bit.

“She’s different. She’s confident, funny, she’s...everything that I’m not.”

“Hey, don’t talk like that. You are Joel fuckin’ Miller,” Tommy poked a strong finger into his brothers shoulder. “You were swimming in it before you had Sarah.”

“That’s not who I am anymore, Tommy--”

“I know, I know. You’re a man now. And she is a woman.” Joel rolled his eyes and relaxed in the booth behind him.

“She’s…something.”

After they had received their food from a runner, the hustle and bustle of the diner finally started to die down. They were almost finished with their plates when they were one of two booths left in the place. Jessie could be seen cleaning the bar, stray strands of hair falling in front of her face as she focused. 

“Do you guys need some more coffee?” She asked without looking up. It was quiet in the diner with the absence of the dinner rush. The boys sighed and looked at their half-empty mugs. 

“Better not, it’s late--”

“Sure! Thank you.” Tommy cut him off, giving him another sly smile. Jessie instinctively made her way over to the booth, coffee pot now in hand. Her tennis shoes squeaked against the cheap tile as she approached.

“One more cup couldn’t hurt, right?” She chuckled and grinned as she filled their mugs again. Joel was about to respond before he was cut off by who they presumed was her manager calling to her through the window to the kitchen behind the bar.

“Jessie, finish up those tables and you can go. I can’t afford you working over time.” The girl turned to meet her coworker. At least she was honest.

“Oh! Okay!” She called back politely. She returned her focus go the boys again. “Sounds like it’s my lucky day.” Sarcasm practically soaked her words, making Joel laugh heartily. She didn’t think it was that funny, but seeing him enjoy it that much made her giggle along. Tommy looked at the two with an inquisitive brow, slightly judging them.

“What time do you usually get off?” Tommy had to keep his eyes from widening in shock. Joel? Small talk? He hated it with a burning passion. If it wasn’t for the southern hospitality in his veins he wouldn’t engage in it with anyone. But with her, he didn’t mind. He just wanted a few more seconds of her time.

“Around eleven. Midnight if I’m stuck doing two people’s jobs.”

“I know the feeling.” Joel turned to Tommy, gesturing to him over the brim of his mug as he took another generous sip. Jessie chuckled again, letting her hand fall to Joel’s shoulder. Sparks ignited at the site and he tried to surpress the urge to force her hand back when she removed it casually. Tommy rolled his eyes but let them continue chatting. He hadn’t seen this kind of glow on his brothers face in years, and for that, he’d let it slide.

“You guys are carpenters, right?” Tommy nearly spit out his coffee.

“Contractors. We build homes and stores, stuff like that.” If anyone, meaning any other person than Jessie, had asked that question, Joel would’ve laughed in their face. But since it was her, he couldn’t care less. Her voice sounded like music to his ears. She could be insulting him for all he cared, he just wanted her to keep talking.

“Ooh, okay. Sorry, I hope that wasn’t offensive or something. Do Carpenters and Contractors get along?” She mused, this time earning a chuckle from both of the boys.

“Yes, actually, never say that again,” Tommy played along, making the group laugh harder.

“Well, I better get to it. Boss doesn’t like me talking to customers for too long.” She turned slightly, still letting her eyes linger on Joel. “See ya.”

“Sure.” And with that, she was waltzing away from them, that confident sway in her hips returning. Joel watched her leave, the glow on his face being replaced with a look of longing.

“You’re in deep shit, yknow it?”

“Hm?” His gaze didn’t falter.

“You’re in love with her.”

“What?” He was paying attention now, his head whipping towards his brother.

“You haven’t looked at someone that way since—“

“Don’t.” Tommy listened, forcing his mouth shut. He tapped his fingers on the table to release some kind of frustration.

“I’m just saying. She could be good for you.” Tommy said as calmly as he could. The table fell silent for a moment as Joel massaged his forehead with his calloused hands. Joel finally spoke up after a long moment.

“I know. I’m just trying to take it slow. Really slow.” His hands returned to his lap, but he still couldn’t look his brother in the eye.

“Fine. Just don’t make her wait too long.” They were quiet again before Tommy rose to his feet, fixing his belt. Joel followed, grabbing the ticket. He looked down at it in his hands. Her signature “Thank you!” was written in a graceful cursive with a heart scribbled next to it. Pink ink. Joel scoffed. His brother was right. He was in deep, deep, shit.

Out in the parking lot, where Jessie should have already left for the night, she was instead starting her car for the tenth time, just for it to sputter out.

“God fucking—“ She took her frustration out on the wheel, hitting it with her open palms over and over again. “DAMNIT!” She pulled herself out of the car, charging over to the hood and popping it up angrily. She looked down at the contents and realized she had absolutely no idea what she was doing. Her palm found her forehead as she stepped back in defeat. Tears had just begun to prick her eyes when she saw two men leaving the diner.

“Shit, darlin’ you alright?” His familiar southern drawl comforted her like a warm blanket. The brothers instinctively jogged over to her in concern.

“Yeah,” Her voice was trembling and unreliable. “Just car troubles.” She sniffed and wiped her face, hoping to hide the emotions she felt. Tommy sprang into action, turning the key for himself. A horrendous clicking noise erupted from her engine again.

“Oh, you just need a jump. I’ll pull the truck around.” His calm tone instantly made her relax as she let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding in.

“Easy fix.” Joel reassured her, joining her at the front of her car. She smiled softly at him, grateful. Tommy was on the other side of the parking lot and Joel saw an opportunity. He pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and flipped it open, taking out a thin card.

“Call me if you have car troubles again.” He teased, returning his wallet to his pocket. She stifled a blush unsuccessfully as she accepted the card.

“Thank you. Really, I appreciate it.” Standing with her like this, he saw her at a different angle. He drank up every bit of her with his eyes. Her gimmicky diner uniform that she despised openly hugged her curves in just the right spots. The way she looked up at him, he could almost sense a glimpse of yearning in her too. He couldn’t take his eyes off of her. For a moment, they were stuck, wondering what the other was thinking. The roar of their pickup truck as it pulled in next to them jolted them out of their trance. Tommy hopped out of the driver seat and threw a duffel bag at Joel. He caught it skillfully and set it on the ground next to the wheel of the truck. Tommy popped the hood and stopped the truck. Joel pulled two wires out of the bag, one black and one red.

“Here’s negative,” He lifted one up to show her. “Here’s positive.” He clipped one to part of the battery and the other to a piece of metal next to it.

“Positive to negative and negative to ground,” He looked back at her as he straightened his back, still holding the other ends of the wires in his hands. “Okay? And never let these touch.” She nodded and grinned at him, unable to contain her blush now. He connected the other ends of the wires to mirroring spots under her hood.

“Start it up, Tommy!” His assertiveness sparked butterflies in her stomach. The truck roared back to life, almost making her jump. Joel took his position in her drivers seat, turning her key again. After a few tries, her car was resurrected as well. She gasped as if she’d seen a magic trick. Joel emurged from your car once again, a confident smile on his face.

“Thank you both so much. You saved my life.” The boys laughed.

“Just doing our civil duties, ma’am.” Tommy played along. “Be careful getting home.”

“Yes, please,” Joel added. He was a dad, he couldn’t help it. “And call me if you need me. Anything…” She smiled and nodded.

“Sure. Thanks.” Their gaze lingered like it had before. Neither one wanted to see the other go.

“Have a good night, Jess.”

“You too…” And with that, Joel reluctantly rounded the side of his truck and climbed into the drivers seat. Tommy took his place at the side closest to her.

“Night.” He smiled knowingly at her, making her look down bashfully at her ugly mandatory kitten heels.

“Yeah, yeah.” She turned to her car, hearing him chuckle behind her as she got in.

On her drive home with the windows down and her hair flowing behind her, she thought about a lot. Mainly, how the fuck she was gonna tell her mom about Joel? One thing she knew for sure, though, was she wanted to see him again. He might mean trouble for her, but she was willing to take her chances on him.

[roseanne-2003]

helo all ! welcome to my fart blog! my name is Rosanne and im 21 years old. (2003)

this blog is mostly for farts but occasionally I will repost other things that are unrelated to farts.

I first came into the fart community four years ago and it has honestly been the best decision I have made. Everyone here is so nice and so welcoming! I get so many nice messages from people, and it honestly motivates me to keep posting after seeing how many people actually enjoy my farts lol.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

my likes:

•Women/men farting

•burps

my dislikes:

•face farting

•wetting

•scat

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

my boundaries:

• Anything sexual whether it’s with farting or not, will not be allowed. You will be immediately blocked.

•spam texting. spam texting is extremely annoying and will just cause me to ignore you or remove you. If I don’t answer, it’s usually because I’m busy seeing as I have a life outside of Tumblr. If I will not be answering messages for an extended period of time, I will let you know.

•NO UNSOLICITED PICTURES. This one has its own bullet point because I get these so much. You will be immediately blocked.

• absolutely no transphobia, homophobia, racism, or any other hate speech.

It is very important that everyone reads this so I don’t have to constantly remind you. I will have this post pin so you don’t have to scroll far.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• here are a few important things:

firstly, I’m sorry if this is all over the place, lol I’ve never done anything like this. If I come up with more things that I feel like needs to be added to this post, I will do so.

Secondly, if you are a minor, please do not interact. My blog is not for minors whatsoever. If I do find out you are minor, I will block you and make a post warning others about you. There is too many cases of people being falsely accused of doing stuff with minors, and I just want to make sure everyone is safe from that.

And lastly, feel free to message me if you want to talk about farts or get to know each other. I love meeting new people and having friends so my messages are always open if anything, even if you have questions or just need to vent.

You can also add me on Snapchat if you want to talk more! :-)

I think that’s all for now, so have fun and enjoy!! 🫶🏽🫶🏽



[lotusthewriter]

Dead Souls (They Keep Calling Me)

Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist (2003) Rating: T Relationships: Alphonse & Edward Characters: Alphonse Elric, Edward Elric Summary: Al watches Ed sleep. Turns out things haven't changed much. Word count: 770 AO3

A/N: I literally dreamed I wanted to write more Elric Brothers. So I decided to do that today. Especially considering how cold it's been where I live.

This takes place after Conqueror of Shamballa.

TRIGGER WARNING - Mention of alcohol.

DO NOT SHIP THE ELRIC BROTHERS. P/ROSHIP DNI.

--

He figures Ed isn’t as loud in his sleep as before.

Ed used to have recurrent nightmares. Al remembers them well.

Nowadays, his older brother sleeps peacefully. Unfortunately, Al knows the reason why. All those bottles in Ed’s bedroom…

Al doesn’t know how to talk to him about it. He knows it’s not an easy conversation to have, not when the Elric brothers have to focus more on the war and the people the government has been persecuting.

Now that Al has restored his memories, he’s no longer dreaming of this world, dreaming of the day he could reunite with Ed.

Alphonse now has nightmares.

His brother probably has no idea.

And it’s not like Al wants to disturb him. Not now that Edward actually sleeps without waking up in horror.

The younger Elric is sitting on the cold floor, sometimes analyzing the entirety of Ed’s room beyond the bottles of scotch. He sees his brother’s previous prosthetics, which are not as resistant as Winry’s looking from there… Many, many books, reading glasses on the table, Ed’s one loyal, oversized coat.

You might even see the picture of Ed’s previous roommate on his desk.

Al sighs.

He’s relatively close to the bed, but he’s not too glued. Mostly because he doesn’t want to wake Ed.

Al doesn’t want to go back to his room, either.

He needs to hear another living being.

Because Al can’t always feel himself.

So, Ed’s nonsensical, quiet sleepy noises comfort him. His big brother might be dreaming of home.

… if anything, he seems to be annoyed at Al.

“Al, you little…” Ed grumbles.

The younger boy can’t help smirking.

“Al…”

Ed turns around, slowly opening his eyes. Al raises an eyebrow, wondering if he’s waking up.

Well, the former’s jolt answers that question.

“ACK! What the heck?!” Ed exclaims. He calms down a little more when he realizes who’s there. “Al?”

“Um… hi, Brother.”

“Ugh, don’t scare me like that!”

“Sorry.”

Ed’s grumpiness softens at Al’s low voice. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh, nothing.”

“Then why were you watching me sleep like a total creep?”

“I don’t know, Brother! I just… like doing it. I’m sorry.”

Pause. “You couldn’t sleep?”

Al shrugs.

Ed sighs. “Just- Just get off the floor, it’s freezing tonight.”

He’s freeing some space in his bed for Al, who shyly joins him.

“How are you not wearing socks?” Ed notices, shocked. “You’re cold like ice!”

The hands touching Al’s face only now has him realize how cold he really is. Even Ed’s automail is warmer than him, and that’s saying something.

Ed’s left hand is holding one of Al’s, trying to warm it up.

“How long have you been here?” The older Elric questions.

Forever. “... not sure.”

Al doesn’t really look at him.

“You have a lot in your mind?” Ed guesses. Most specifically pointing at Al’s restored memories.

The other frowns a little instead of saying anything.

“... You didn’t want to be alone?”

Al clenches his free hand in a fist.

“It’s okay, Al.”

“I didn’t want to wake you, Brother.”

“I don’t mind.”

“I just want you to be safe.”

“I want you to be safe, too.”

Of course.

“I… I come here when I can’t sleep. Because at least I know you’re safe.” The bottles of scotch are judging Al from somewhere he can’t see. “It’s… home, I guess.”

“Oh, Al… come here.”

He lets Ed wrap his arms around him under the heavy blankets. Al shivers now that his brother hugs him, which might feel like the old days.

Ed is so, so, so warm.

“You can tell me when you can’t sleep.”

“I’m not a little kid anymore.” Liar.

“You’re not an armor anymore.”

Al’s brown eyes tear up.

He finally returns the hug, crying in Ed’s chest.

“... Sometimes it doesn’t feel like that,” Al whispers.

“I know.”

Ed squeezes him more, as if trying to protect Al from the cold, from the Gate, from everything else.

“I’m just glad I can hold my little brother,” the former says, relieved even if pained.

‘Little’ doesn’t sound too bad.

Al was always bigger and taller than everyone else… but now he isn’t.

It’s just odd having the mind of an older boy when he’s stuck in a younger body.

And yet his big brother loves him just the same.

“Me too,” Al replies.

Ed kisses his forehead and keeps him close and warm.

He really is home.

Different.

But… home.

Home is really wherever Ed is.

He hopes Ed won’t have to drink to sleep well, and that Al won’t lose sleep as often anymore.

Maybe one day.

[sunshine-and-christmas-caryls]

Hi, so you do not have to publish your respond or answer at all 😉 But beside Five x Lila and Brienne x Jaime what other pairings do you ship? Much love 💜

Hi! 👋🏻

I don’t mind answering- the main thing I use tumblr for is appreciating and talking about ships that I love so it’s not an issue to answer this by any means :)

I haven’t watched a ton of new shows lately, mostly rewatching older favorites or watching new-to-me-but-not-new-this-year foreign tv shows. But I will put a few below (I liked the main couple in the foreign shows) and some of my older ships after that! 😊

Foreign TV shows (I don’t often find a lot of fanfic/ fan art for foreign TV shows comparatively but I loved these series):

-Love Between Fairy and Devil (cdrama)

-The Manny (Mexican TV show)

-Hidden Love (cdrama)

-Strong Woman Do Bong Soon (kdrama)

-Ever Night (cdrama)

-Love, Now (Taiwan drama)

-Tale of the Nine-Tailed (kdrama)

-Happiness (kdrama)

-Mischievous Kiss (jdrama)

-Boys Over Flowers (kdrama, but I like Ji Hoo/ Jan Di instead of the main couple of Joon Pyo/ Jan Di)

And several others, but those are the ones I remember at the moment.

Main ships from American and/ or western shows and movies (though I probably like others from the same franchise too):

-Marvel: Steve/ Peggy and Clint/ Natasha are my main ships. I really enjoy Bucky/ Sam too, but I haven’t ventured to them quite as much.

-Barney/ Robin from How I Met Your Mother

-Penelope and Colin from Bridgerton. Really liked Kate/ Anthony too.

-Carol/Daryl from The Walking Dead followed by Rick/ Michonne (admittedly I slowly lost interest in the series after Glenn died, & I think I mainly stopped watching after Carl died. But I love the ship still)

-Tony/ Ziva from NCIS

-Deeks/ Kensi from NCIS LA

-Rollins/ Carisi from SVU followed by Benson/ Barbara. (All 3 of which, NCIS/ NCIS LA/ SVU, I didn’t finish or don’t really keep up with regularly)

-Harry/ Hermione from Harry Potter

-Penny/ Sheldon from The Big Bang Theory (I probably stopped watching regularly after season 5 though)

-Chloe/ Oliver from Smallville

-Enola/ Tewksbury from Enola Holmes TV show

-Uncas/ Alice from Last of the Mohicans movie

-Casey/ Kevin from Split & Glass (they’re one of my more problematic ships, TBH)

Cartoons/ Anime/ Comics:

-Starfire/ Robin from 2003 Teen Titans cartoon & the 1980s comics & live action tv show, also known as Dick/ Kory followed by Beast Boy/ Raven (or Garfield/ Rachel)

-Bruce/ Selina (pretty much any Batman universe I’ve seen)

-Naruto/ Hinata from Naruto. Shikamaru and Temari are a secondary fav for me.

-Ichigo/Orihime from Bleach. I also like Renji/ Rukia.

-Toph/ Zuko from Avatar the Last Airbender, but I prefer them as a post-original series couple. She’s too young for me to want them together during the show. Katara/ Aang.

Pretty much any of the studio Ghibli main characters, though there are still a few films I need to see…

Honorable mention to Lily/ Sebastian in the Love, Lies, & Hocus Pocus book series I’m currently reading…

There’s probably a ton of other ones (certainly there are more shows/ movies I love that I don’t necessarily have a ship for or that I just didn’t have a ship I went to fanfic for) but these were the ships I most remember from growing up and/or from reading fanfic/ fan art in the last 10 years or so…

What about you? What are some of your ships? I don’t suppose we have any other overlapping ships or shows, do we?

And much love right back at you! 🩵