#in any case the ending is to say that joel has to wait for the human to grow old and then he's free

[eyelessfog]

what's joel up to in the pirate au?

Mezalean Joel is, quite simply, hangin out in the desert. Lizzie is still his wife, but they've been apart for a while now. Not like. divorced-apart, but sirens have been staying mostly under the water since sirens became pretty things to look at and jellyfish paralysis potions became easier to get people's hands on. He and Lizzie have secret rendezvous, but not terribly often. Long ones only about once a year - and by long ones I mean they hang out for, like. a week straight. She brings fish to munch on and he doesn't need to eat because he's clay, so they're fine.

Sirens are generally polyamorous, so when, during their rendezvous this year, Lizzie tells him she found this wonderful woman and she'd really like to marry her, Joel isn't exactly surprised. They make a deal that he'll meet her before the two of them get married, and after that, Lizzie has to promise to up their meetings to at least twice a year.

Deal.

[Cleo, Lizzie and Joel meet up in Mezalea once every two months as a married trio, and then, after a bit, Cleo goes home to allow the two of them their privacy. After everything else is over, you know?]

Joel, God of the skies, created a son with Chorizo of Sanctuary, and the two of them take care of him equally, a week with each before swapping. There isn't really much to say on his life because he kinda just. Has a son, has a babydaddy, and is actually a god possessing a human who asked for godly powers and got him instead? The human can never come back, but similarly, Joel can't go back to the pantheon because the human is invulnerable to most things because of his powers. fucked up dude.... maybe if he just waits it out he'll be able to go back..?

[corazondebeskar-reads]

of rage and ruin - chapter two

of rage and ruin series

chapter two

series masterlist | prev chapter | next chapter

werewolf!alpha!Joel Miller x f!omega!reader

word count: 3.3k

summary: you come face to face with the beast.

chapter warnings: dark, dead dove do not eat, a/b/o, alpha/omega dynamics, omegaverse, captivity, canon-typical violence, genre-typical violence, horror themes, graphic violence, allusions to/threats of torture, abuse by captors (not by either joel or reader), depiction of injury, body horror, typical raider/hunter behavior, mention of cordyceps, angst, viewer discretion is advised,

also on ao3

dividers by @saradika-graphics

They were careful never to touch you. The exam you’d been given when they first brought you here was done with thick rubber gloves, and no one has touched you since. 

But there are plenty of ways to teach you compliance without touching you. 

Before they moved you, you didn’t see a soul for two days. No one delivered or removed the cloth strips, food, or water. No one woke you up with a loud buzzer or dragged you outside to hose you down. 

No one hurt you.

The first few hours, you sit and do nothing as usual. You don’t really notice.

After that, though, you start to wait. This deviation, this anomaly, was far more terrifying than the wretched routine. And with no meals, you’re bereft of a way to count the passing of time. There’s no sunlight down here, after all. 

To your deep relief, the lights still go off at night. Until you’re lying awake in the dark and realize they’re probably on a timer. So maybe all your captors are dead. Made a stupid mistake and got their asses handed to them by FEDRA.

Which would be nice, but also, you’d still fucking die. Because you’re trapped in this godforsaken grimy ass basement, and somewhere on the other side of it is the only other resident you know of. Him. 

So either you starve to death, or he eats you. Or both. 

You spend the next day hoping to see Cheryl’s smug bitch face. 

When someone finally comes for you, it’s not Cheryl. It’s not Jim, either, but that’s not a surprise. He doesn’t like you, doesn’t like whatever Cheryl’s doing with you.

Not because he has any objections to the captivity or abuse. No, Jim’s been clear—you’re a waste of resources. 

Anyway, it’s fucking Tweedle Dumb and Tweedle Dumber who show up. They’re not real twins (you’re not even sure they’re brothers), but they’re a damn good argument for nurture over nature. Spending the apocalypse together has them moving in tandem, grunting and jerking their heads to one another in a language all their own. They’re built like oxen and about as polite. 

You don’t fight anymore, but they still tie you and drag you around. You haven’t so much as argued in weeks. You’ve heard that everyone breaks from torture eventually. You waved your flag from the start. 

You’re not made for this. 

They tie you up without touching your skin; hands layered in gloves just in case. They leave a length of rope from your wrists to pull you by, leaving the rope around your feet as it was. You had earned that six inches of slack, just enough to stand and walk to the makeshift toilet instead of crawling, after a solid week of good behavior. 

When you figure it out, though, you try to run. Every electric screaming nerve in your body says to go. Go where? Who fucking knows. Anywhere. Away. Run. 

The room they’ve brought to you is saturated in oaky musk, and you only need a glimpse of the little cage within before you’re jerking backward.

They must have gotten used to your compliance because the rope flies from Tweedle Dumb’s grasp. The three of you stand still for a moment, all shocked by the turn of events. 

You turn to run, but it’s too late already. One of them swept your fucking legs like this was an action movie, and bound as you are, that’s the end of the fight. You crash and earn yourself some new bruises, and they drag you into the room by the rope between your feet. 

One of them—you’ve forgotten who had which nickname in all the hubbub—snaps out a baton.

“Get in the fuckin’ cage, or I’ll break your ankles.”

It’s a strong argument that you have no desire to see if he’ll follow through on. Already hurt and humiliated, you crawl into the cage.

They lock it behind you and leave without another word. The lights go out with a buzz, casting everything you hadn’t taken in yet in total darkness. 

When the lights come back on, you wish they hadn’t. 

At first, you don’t even realize they’ve flickered to life, because what they’ve revealed isn’t real. 

It’s a big, brown Rorschach blob. It’s an oil spill. It’s moving, in a jerky, fluid way that should be impossible. The limbs have pointed bony joints, and you can only describe the way they crawl as spidery, though they’re thick and bulky. 

Jim is standing on the other side of the gate, holding onto a thick chain that rattles and creaks dangerously as the beast strains against the thick metal band around its neck. He looks bored, but he usually does. 

Cheryl, however. The way her lips are curled, eyes wide and bright… this must be him. 

“Don’t you know what happens to the others? The alphas?” she had teased the night of all the howling. She had laughed at the traitorously dumbfounded look on your face. 

You do now. 

A long pink tongue has unfurled from his massive jaw, flopped over far too many teeth, and dripping thick saliva onto the floor. The… fur, for lack of a better word, around his muzzle is matted with something dark that you can’t look at anymore. 

Jim yanks him by the chain, and the creature lets himself be pulled to the door, barely holding still while the padlock and chain are removed from his collar and the cuffs from his paws. 

He’s at the end of your cage before you realize he’s moved, and you scream, scrambling back as much as you can into the corner. The spaces between the bars are thin enough for just his… good god, are those fingers? They certainly aren’t canine toes. They’re tipped in thick, long claws packed with soil and detritus.

“Hey,” Jim barks, and the beast side-eyes him. “Remember what I fuckin’ told you. You break or eat her? That’s it. I’m not getting you another one.” 

Eat? Eat?  

Oh god.

Your stomach swoops and falls, abdomen clenching and drawing attention to your too-full bladder, unlocking a new fear that you’re going to piss yourself if he comes closer. 

He does. You don’t. But just barely.

That long, dark snout pushes against the cage, as if it could nudge through to reach you, pink tongue lapping against the air. The oak musk is so strong now that it lines your throat and makes you gag.

You choke back a retch-turned-sob and he rumbles, a strange vibration that rattles the bars where he’s pressed against them. He rises, stretching up up up on his hind legs until he towers over your little cube, enveloping you in his shadow, and you can’t help it. You start to cry. 

He can’t reach you, not when you’re tucked back in the corner of your cage. But he can smell you, and he can smell the rich iron soaking into the ropes around your wrists. It’s not yet visible, but the skin squishing through the edges is red and rough. 

He whines, pushing his muzzle against the bars, long tongue flopping out like he can reach. 

The sharp battery acid edge of your fear spikes, and he growls. Stupid girl. Stupid fucking omega. He’s trying to help you, and you’re—you’re— 

You’re starting to cry again. 

He can’t make human words like this, can’t enunciate or even really remember them. He tries to reach you through the bars again, snarling when they burn against his knuckles. Even the distended bony fingers of his full form can’t reach you there, not even with the tip of his claw. 

You’re shaking now, body twitching and jittering beyond your control. Everything inside you is screaming white-hot and dissolving; vomit tickles the base of your throat, and you just can’t stop crying. It hurts; it’s ripping your throat and lungs to shreds. It’s a violent, tumultuous thing, and you can’t stop the wounded keening of your cries. 

He’s pacing in front of your cage now, the beast, on four mangled limbs too long to be canine and too warped to be human. His huffs startle you, long snout returning, again and again, tongue darting out for a taste. 

A little drop of blood slides down your hand from where the rope’s edge cuts into the bottom of your palm.

He freezes, nostrils flaring. You freeze, barely breathing. 

He looks right at you and then tips his head back to howl, the sound like icy water through your veins. 

You can’t help yourself. You scream, broken as your voice is from all the tears. 

Between the cacophony, Jim stomps into the corridor and slams his hand on the wall. “Shut the fuck up, both of you!” 

“Help me,” you yell. 

I’m trying, the wolf howls. 

“Please, please help me,” you gasp, sobs reaching new highs alongside your panic. 

“If you don’t quiet the fuck down, I’ll open up your goddamn cage and let him eat you,” Jim snaps. “I said you were going to be more trouble than you’re worth, and I was fuckin’ right.”

The beast snarls, snapping his sharp teeth at the air. 

Jim regards him with a sneer. “And you! Giving her a heart attack counts as breakin’ her.”

The words don’t make sense, but you don’t really hear them, anyway. “Please, I want to go home, please, please,” you whisper. 

But no one’s listening. 

The Wolf is listening. 

He prowls back and forth on all fours, which really, isn’t any more or less terrifying than when he rises up on his haunches. Neither image capitulates to your need to make it make sense. There is no sense, no logic, no reality that can hold him.

The wolf, for really, that’s what he is, isn’t he? God, you don’t want to say it. Unbidden, a memory works loose in your brain, slipping out of the crates of nonsense stored away in favor of survival, and rattles around.

I know what you are. But you won’t say it. 

Did you bring this upon yourself for reading trashy supernatural romance novels? Did you watch Underworld too many times? Did the shot actually put you in a coma, and you’re living in some kind of nightmare?

The wolf is watching you. There are no whites in his eyes, just pools of gasoline on muddy puddles. 

You close your eyes and pretend you can’t hear the way his claws click against the tile. 

While Laura had fed them stew, she told them about the trials. 

They had been the first. The first taken, before volunteers were called. Before they knew they’d need secure places to hold them, they had been gathered for observation in an old YMCA, packed in racketball courts so the doctors could stand outside the large wall of glass and watch them all at once.

They stood outside that glass and watched them change, in one way or another. The ones who turned, as she called it, went first. The ones who would become test group alpha. More than half of the overall subjects, who became suddenly, violently ill. 

They left them all in there with the rest, waiting, watching them cry out, watching them vomit and sweat and break impossible fevers. Temporal thermometers reading 105, 106, before they’d succumb to unconsciousness. 

If they woke, they were… inhuman. Something more. Something hungry. 

A lot of the first round of test data was lost when the subjects were eaten. But some were lost to the turn. Test group beta, Laura’s brother among them, didn’t survive the fever.

Laura’s husband turned but didn’t lose himself to the beast. Something in him stayed present, alert enough to protect his wife from the others. Or rather, something in her kept him that way. Something that had turned in her too, albeit without the violence, into something more than she’d ever been before. 

“They drove us out of the QZ,” she said, picking idly at a gouge in the table’s surface. “To shoot us where they could burn all the bodies and forget.”

“And what happened?” Tommy asked, leaning forward with his elbows on the table.

“We ate them.”

They come back for him that night but he’s not waiting for them. He’s sat with his big, furry back to you, close enough to the cage that you could pet him. The thought crosses your mind in a moment of delirium. You could stick your fingers through the little bars and feel the coarse hickory hair. You know, if you were clinically insane. 

You’re not about to offer him a little snack. 

He’d given up on reaching you a few hours ago, content to sit there unmoving once your tears dried up. It’s only slightly less terrifying.

But when they take him out, you only get to sit with the relief for a moment. Minutes pass in the dark and silent room, but you regret letting your guard down when footsteps echo through the cavernous halls beyond. 

The Idiot Twins are back, and they’re not taking chances with you this time. Oh, no. When they unlock the cage, you’re faced with the barrel of a handgun that doesn’t leave your temple as they pull you out by your bound hands.

They don’t bother to stand you up or give you a chance to move on your own, just dragging you out of the room and across the hall. You’re sprawled on your stomach across the frigid floor of the new room, with the door slamming shut behind you without so much as a word. 

The rusted pipes on the wall in the beast’s room make more sense now, once you take in your shadowy surroundings. This room has the same shitty tan tile over every inch, but the walls are lined with blue (or what used to be blue) lockers. Not a single one is intact, whether rusted or dented or doorless, but they’re unmistakably lockers. 

There are two lines of seamless benches, though half are rotted to oblivion. But it’ll be a better bed than the floor.

This is practically paradise. There’s a tray by the door that you don’t see for a while, but when you do, you almost cry again. Might have, if you hadn’t spent the day in tears. 

It’s just broth and water, long gone lukewarm and dusty, but you set upon it like a vampire upon a vein. Wait, no, you really don’t want to think about that right now. But it’s not your fault you’ve got monsters on the brain.

Your reprieve is not long. The sun rises. 

The beast returns.

Oh, and he’s pissed that you’re gone, based on the fucking racket that brings you back to the waking world. 

“Oh, did you think you’d been good enough lately for a treat?” Cheryl taunts him. 

The steel doors between you aren’t enough to hide the sounds of his fury. 

“You’ll have her back when you’ve earned her,” she tells him amidst the cacophony of snarling and gnashing. 

It’s ten days before they return you to the cage. Ten days of poking around the abandoned lockers and finding nothing. Ten days of broth delivered at dawn and dusk. Ten days of your back no longer appreciating the bench to stretch out on. 

Ten days of listening to the nonstop scratching and growling and whining from across the hall. And worse. Oh, much worse. Wet squicks and splatters and harsh groans. You’re not sure if he’s eating or masturbating or what, but it sends shivers through your whole body each time. 

It also sends the weird, sticky slick pooling between your thighs, but you ignore that. It’s been happening since the shot, one of the weirder side effects, but it’s gotten downright fucking annoying since you got here.

You try not to think about it. 

It’s not long after they drag you back to the little cage that they drag him into his. For that’s what this room really is, you know that, even if it doesn’t make you feel better about being in there with him. He’s trapped, too, but you’re the one in danger.

They haven’t untied your wrists since the first time, which have blistered and bled and scabbed until the ropes rubbed the scabs raw and started the whole thing all over. 

He smells it before he sees it, any interest in the slippery sweetness on your thighs gone when he tastes the blood in the air. 

Hurt, he whines, though you can’t understand. Help.  

You don’t cry this time, don’t split the sour tang with salt, but the fear and pain and exhaustion are enough to center him. If he tries, if he could just focus…

And there it goes. You watch, mouth agape and eyes blown wide, as he shifts in front of you for the first time. He backs away while it happens until he’s on the other side of the room and sits his very bare ass on his bed. 

You watch the way his bones jerk and his body shakes and cracks and huffs out sharp, agonized grunts until he’s just a man. Just a man, nothing more. Just a beast masquerading. Worse than a wolf in sheep’s clothing, you think, because you know he’s the wolf, but right now? 

He’s just a pathetic, broken human. Bruised and bloodied, though his marks are rapidly fading as the healing takes over, but his face is edged in nothing but pain and sorrow.

“M’not gonna hurt ya,” was the first thing he croaked out. 

You startle, rattling the cage a little, which makes you wince. 

But he stays on the other side of the room. He’s sitting on his mattress, legs bent up and crossed, as if he had anything left to hide. As if you hadn’t seen too much already.

He tries not to think about it, but jesus. It’s a fucking struggle. As he takes you in this way, unclouded by the hazy moon, it still punches him back. Your smell. 

Joel’s never really liked tart things. Too much of a secret sweet tooth, of a deep yearning for the char and depth of anything fresh from the grill. 

But even now, even nearly fully man , he’s salivating at your green apple tang. Of uncovering the sweet ‘n sour burst of you on his tongue. Of letting his sharp teeth fall sharper through the tough act you fail to wear right, too bruised and soft underneath. 

To feel the way you’d give beneath him. The way you’d spill down his chin. No. He has to get a fuckin’ handle on himself. He can’t even look at you, not now that he knows you can smell the salt of his own slick where his swollen cock sits sobbing, neglected and furious. 

“I’m not,” he protests against your silence. 

He’s not sure who he’s trying to convince. 

But he doesn’t stay himself for long. Not after he thinks instead, suddenly, of autumn. Of the sweet smell of the orchard. Of taking Tommy’s truck up up up into the places where seasons meant something. 

The roads sprawled like veins and they followed them with no end just to see the way the trees curled overhead, branches reaching and burning with dying leaves—a sight so devastating that Joel considered leaving Texas behind for somewhere he could start to take this beauty for granted. 

Chasing the colors led them first to a field of corn, blustering amber in the setting sun. They had returned the next day, fresh from the motel with burnt coffee and warm flannels, parting with precious dollars for the privilege of picking pumpkins and apples and a little corn husk doll. 

He’d have paid every cent ten times over to see Sarah smile like that again. 

This is where the man breaks and bows out. Where the wolf at its weakest is still stronger than Joel. He gives in, gives into the grief, gives into the wolf, and shifts back. He stays curled up on his bed, though, and doesn’t look at you.

He doesn’t speak to you again for a month.

next chapter

[orcasoul]

Joel Miller Imagine #2

Warnings: Swearing, sexual themes

Word Count: 840

QZ boyfriend Joel who has never publicly said he's you're boyfriend, but it's just known between you both that he's yours and you're his.

QZ boyfriend Joel who likes to know where you're going and when you'll be back (not in a controlling way, but that's just how dangerous QZ life is) Who knows deep down it's unlikely that anyone would threaten you lest they want to face his legendary fury, but it brings him peace of mind to know your whereabouts in case you ever need him. Who's always ready to pounce if a man even looks at you disrespectfully.

QZ boyfriend Joel who's quick temper has always controlled his mouth, sometimes snapping and saying things he really doesn't mean during an argument. Who internally hates himself when he sees the tears you've been tying so hard to hold back. Who when things have calmed somewhat, will apologise sincerely and tell you he'll try to do better instead of blowing up, and makes sure you know how much you mean to him, even though he'll never say the three words you want to hear; but he does, so fucking much!

QZ boyfriend Joel who's often harsh, blunt and violent - when needed- with people, but is always soft and caring when it comes to his girl, especially when you're having another tough day, who holds you firmly in his strong arms when you wake in a blind panic from another nightmare. Who feels a sense of relief and purpose when his embrace and the low timbre of his voice helps to sooth you back to sleep.

QZ boyfriend Joel who feels terrible when he leaves on a smuggling run with Tess and has to leave you behind, no matter how much you protest (he actually finds your pouting to be quite cute on times, but he'll never tell you that) Who knows that if anything ever happened to you it would be the end of him. He'd rather you mad at him than dead or... worse.

QZ boyfriend Joel who's secretly flattered when you get jealous of the time he spends with Tess. Who has told you time and again, there's no one else for him but you (and it's true. He could never imagine being with anyone else) and that the only reason he bothers with Tess is because she's one of the best smugglers in the QZ.

QZ boyfriendJoel who instantly dislikes any man (except for the few you both know) who tries talking to you, who sees any other man as a potential threat to your safety. After all, this is hell on earth and when society crumbles so do the morals and decency of a lot of men.

QZ boyfriend Joel who sometimes finds his mind drifting to the old world, wishing he could give you everything you deserve in life. It's why he became a smuggler in the first place, so you will never need for ration cards.

QZ boyfriend Joel who fucks nasty. Who, when he's had a bad day, won't even talk about it at first. Instead he'll grab you and bend you over the nearest piece of furniture, ripping your trousers and panties down without even opening the button (so many ration cards wasted on new buttons). Who, before pushing himself inside your waiting tunnel, leans over you into your ear, asking if you remember the safe word. Who, when he's gets the confirmation he needs, spears himself into you, fucking you at a brutal pace until you're soaking not just his cock, but the tops of his thighs too. Who, after he has fucked out all of his frustrations, cleans you up and holds you like you are fine china. Only then will he tell you about his shitty day.

QZ boyfriend Joel who makes love to you with a tenderness and devotion that belies his gruff and intimidating exterior. Who always makes sure you come before he slides into you, eating you out like a man devouring his last meal (which in this world, it could very well be) Who pushes deep and slow into you, dragging himself against your sweet spot and only speeding up the snap of his hips when you want him to go faster. Who whispers words of affection against your neck as you throw your head back in ecstasy, crying out his name. Who holds you in his arms all night long, watching the flutter of your eyelids and listening to your soft breaths, wishing you could both stay in this moment forever and not have to face another gruelling day tomorrow.

QZ boyfriend Joel who will stop at nothing to make a better life for you both outside the QZ. Who traded three months worth of saved up ration cards for a dodgy old car battery. Who promises that very soon, you'll both leave the QZ and start a new life in Jackson, where his brother lives.

QZ boyfriend Joel who will get you out of here if it's the last thing he does!

[lavendertales]

I don’t even know but for the love of god PLEASE more age gap/ dads best friend trope with Joel Miller 🥵

I got not one, not two, but THREE requests with age gap reader x Joel Miller, so here we go, this one's for you babes 😌

Not enough || Joel Miller x f!reader**

summary: Joel is not happy when your recklessness nearly puts your lives in danger.

word count: 1.8k

WARNINGS: age gap (Joel is in his 40s, reader is like late 20s), unprotected doggy, cum play, choking, enemies to fwb.

AGELESS/EMPTY BLOGS & MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED!

gif: @azertyrobaz

Oh, he’s pissed. He’s pissed, alright. You can tell in the way he’s pacing around the room, hands on his hips, brows furrowed in sheer anger. Your negligence has been more than an inconvenience today; it could’ve risked a lot of people’s lives, including your own and Joel’s.

And Joel is not a man you wanna fuck around with.

Well. Not technically.

You just so happen to be in the same shift for the night watch, that’s all. And he just so happens to be Tommy’s brother, so you know from a solid source that he’s got a temper. Inexplicably enough, you find yourself gravitating around him quite often, and not just because duty calls. He’s got an attitude too, which makes him annoying more than anything. He makes your blood boil, makes you want to scream at the top of your lungs.

And yet, your eyes search for him in a crowd, eager to spot that bitter face you’ve grown to detest.

Usually, your disagreements are easily solved: he grunts, you mumble, both of you cuss out loud, maybe yell a little, and call it a truce. In many ways, he doesn’t think of you as equal, you believe; why should he? He’s a skilled hunter, gunsman, and you’re just some gal in her twenties, doing your duty towards Tommy and the people in Jackson.

But today, you’ve really done it. You know it; you just refuse to give Joel the satisfaction of knowing he was right.

He told you to wait for the group to return, then you can go check for clickers. You told him for hours on end that you’ve heard about clickers in the area, and yet Joel refused to believe you. “Till I see it with my own eyes, there ain’t nothing out there,” he said. “No reason to worry everyone”. But the group took too long, and you’ve grown more and more impatient, so you sneaked out the perimeter and went to check for yourself. Surely enough, your instinct and sources have been correct, and there you were, face to face with at least a dozen clickers. Just you and your shotgun against them all.

“Are you really this stupid?”

His question makes your forehead crease with anger as well.

“Well?” he pushes. “Are you?”

“I am far more capable than what you give me credit for.”

Joel snarls, the sound mocking in and of itself, and, weirdly enough or not, you relish into it. There’s something primal behind it, something that suggests care, and that has your undivided attention.

“You could’ve been killed,” he says. “Those fuckers could’ve come in here, have their way with us. All because of you.”

“What the fuck do you want me to say, Joel?! You wanna hear me beg for your forgiveness? Want me to beg, on my knees?”

He gulps. You see it, it’s undeniable. It’s not quite the reaction you had in mind, so it takes you aback for a moment.

Joel inches closer towards you, his face reading the same anger as before, eyes darkened by some emotion you couldn’t name at this very moment.

“Do you?” you boldly repeat.

“You’re on mighty thin ice here,” he warns, voice husky and intense. “Don’t push me.”

“Or what?”

Joel stares at you, half incredulously and half impressed. He’s always been impressed by your candor and your boldness, your uncanny ability to just face danger without a second thought and come to the others’ defense.

But today, less so. The thought of you getting infected, getting hurt in any way… he’d hate you forever if that were the case. He’d hate himself for it, too.

“You don’t know what you’re asking for here,” Joel seems to warn.

But you cock an eyebrow, causing him to gulp again and question his every moral, and every portion of his sanity.

“Give me some credit here, Joel,” you say in a ridiculously sultry voice. “I think I know what I’m looking for. If only you’d stop treating me like some kind of—“

Your words are cut abruptly by the harsh press of his mouth against yours in a surprisingly hot and needy kiss. On the one hand, you’re thankful he acted before he might’ve asked you to beg for it, like you cheekily said. You’re somewhat embarrassed that such a thing was insinuated, let alone acting upon it. The two of you do not get along, after all. He might actually hate you, simple as that.

But this right here, his calloused hands slipping underneath your shirt to feel your skin and his mouth clamping on yours, this is anything but easy. The amber light breaking through the window as the sun is setting allows you a final clear glimpse of what is happening, and your body shivers at the sight: Joel is hastily undressing you first, as if he’s in some sort of race to see you naked before you see him. You realize that yes, you do want to see him, all of him, just the way that he is, and feel him in this inappropriate moment.

It’s obvious it’s been a long time for both of you; all of the sloppy and rushed movements, getting right to it, suggest a desperation that can hardly be verbalized. Your hands drop to the hem of his shirt, tearing off some of the buttons that keep what’s underneath concealed. You take but a rushed moment to admire the scars covering his chest and belly, as well as the chest hair that you’d love nothing more but nuzzle in. nothing but a stolen moment, though. You wouldn’t want to ruin this moment with anything.

Your hands drop to his jeans, removing his belt and watching him shimmy his way out of them. Your eyes widen in surprise when you brush against him, feeling him rock hard in his boxers.

“Turn around,” he commands, and you obey.

You find yourself bent over the couch in his living room, a strong hand keeping you in place. Anticipation is killing you, the perverted thoughts soaking your mind and pussy alike. it’s ridiculous, really; how the fuck are you soaked when all you’ve done so far is argue with him? Him, Joel Miller, of all people. It feels wrong and forbidden in some way, but at the same time, it feels exactly right. Like this is what you’ve been missing all this time. Him, his arms, his eyes and mouth devouring you alike, and his cock slipping inside you.

Which is precisely what he does.

You can’t possibly control or prevent the wanton cry that comes out of your mouth when you feel his cock sliding inside of you. He pushes with ease, and in any other case it would’ve been alarming to acknowledge how soaked you are, but now, it feels oddly understandable.

“Fuck, you’re soaked,” you hear him grunt. “Have you been wanting me to fuck you like this for too long, sweetheart?”

Motherf—

Again you moan when he pushes so far deep inside you, you think you’re gonna black out.

“Answer me,” he grunts.

“Screw you, Miller,” you smile.

He chuckles, because of course he does. “Isn’t it the other way around now?”

He grabs a handful of your ass, squeezing it as hard as he can, and he drags his cock all the way out just to push back inside, burying himself in you to the hilt. Then, he just starts slamming his hips into yours, deeming that he’d given you enough time to adjust and all that. After all, this is rushed, needy, and far too agonizing to prolong. It doesn’t mean anything. Why should it?

Fuck, you wanna see him right now. You wanna see the crease on his forehead that betrays his intense concentration, the way a few locks of hair fall down and the way he’s working up a sweat just by staring at your ass brushing up against his cock with each additional thrust. All you can do is moan brokenly as your body is being used as leverage for him to propel himself into, but hell, you could not possibly complain.

Neither of you says much except the occasional cuss word or grunt. Those are the only sounds filling the dead air. It’s hard to focus on actually doing what you’re doing and saying something. Maybe you don’t need to; adding words to this already complicated situation would only make it more meaningful when it’s just about blowing off some steam.

Although you cannot ignore the waves of pleasure that rip through you when Joel’s hand curls around you from the very same position he’s fucking you. A cry leaves your throat, currently held by one of his calloused hands, and Joel smiles in some delirious ecstasy.

“That’s right,” he teases, almost breathless. “This is all you needed—isn’t it?”

If you couldn’t speak before, you certainly can’t now. Joel doesn’t tell you how good it feels to feel you this way. He doesn’t tell you how feral it makes him to have your body at his will, to fuck you this hard and fast from behind like you’re running out of time.

Maybe you are, maybe you aren’t. All he knows is that the buildup in his belly is gonna erupt soon, but he needs to feel you first.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he says, leaning over and squeezing your throat just a little more. “Make it a good one for me, hm? How ‘bout that?”

It’s like he presses an automatic switch as he says that; within the next few seconds, you clamp down all around him, your body seizing up and soaking his cock with your juices as you reach the throes of ecstasy.

“J-Joel—“you finally manage to get out.

He fucks you through your climax, only to pull out as abruptly as he entered you, stroking himself to completion right on your ass. Breathless, he can only stare at the hot, messy canvas he’d painted on your body. The image triggers something inside of him, something deep and primal, urging him for more.

But he can’t. He shouldn’t. There are about a dozen reasons why he shouldn’t, and yet, he just did.

A final smack over your ass lets you know that the exchange of bodily fluids and pleasure has come to an end. When your eyes lock, he doesn’t say a word to you, and neither do you. Instead, he grabs a towel to clean you gently with, a stark contrast between the feral man from mere moments ago and the current one.

“Don’t make me care about you,” he warns.

“Wasn’t planning on it,” you say, highly doubting that sentence.

[joelswritingmistress]

You Scare Me, Professor: Chapter 36

Summary: The reader is taking graduate classes at a local university in the wooded upstate New York. She is drawn to her professor, Dr. Joel Miller, though she is also inherently aware that he has something dark about him that she can't quite put her finger on. As the reader's attraction grows deeper, she has to decide whether to endure the danger or run away as fast as possible. 

Pairing: Professor Joel Miller x f!reader 

I was hesitant to call Dr. Miller on my ride back up the highway. I knew the situation had left him fuming, and I had to say I was still in a bout of awe at how direct he had been with Trevor.

Fuck. How had I dropped my phone?

I glanced in the rearview mirror every so often and I knew Dr. Miller was right behind me. I really hoped that Trevor hadn't gone through my phone any deeper than the Lock Screen.

He would have called me out on it like he did the ski tickets, right? I had to assume so. If Trevor didn't feel shy about asking why the tickets to the Vermont resort were on my phone, why would he feel shy about confronting me about anything else.

He didn't see anything. I kept trying to convince myself of that. Why hasn't Dr. Miller called me?

I glanced in the rearview mirror again and took a deep breath. He was mad. We were going to fight. I just hoped it wouldn't be blown too out of proportion.

This could cost him his job if Trevor found something out.

My mind was spinning with a web of worst case scenarios. I just wanted it to be the weekend already. Being on Woodbridge’s campus had suddenly felt like I was walking into some warped episode of Criminal Minds or something. As much as I adored the university for being the link that introduced me to Dr. Miller, I equally felt creeped out just by hearing the name of the school.

I checked my phone at the last red light in town before it was nonstop back roads to the house. Nothing from Dr. Miller. No texts or calls. He was still trailing me so I knew soon we would have to talk about what had just happened.

Maybe he doesn't want me driving distracted. 

When we were close to home, Dr. Miller passed me on a small stretch of the road that allowed for it. I glanced over and thought of our first time ever I’d tried to see who was behind the wheel of the Mercedes - before I knew for certain it was Dr. Miller. That seemed like so long ago, but it really wasn't. 

His car whizzed by and he made the turn up the secluded driveway to the home we now shared. I knew it was so he could get out and open the gates. When he emerged from the vehicle he didn't look back toward my car. He walked casually up to the gate, hit the code and only glanced up briefly toward my windshield.

I didn't know why I was so worried. I hadn't done anything wrong. I dropped my cell phone. Who hasn't done something like that before? I got it back. There was a misunderstanding and no one got hurt. All’s well that ends well, right?

I crept in through the gates behind Dr. Miller and we parked side by side in front of the garage. I waited a few seconds and then got out of the car when he didn't. A second later, the driver's side door to the Mercedes snapped open and he rose up out of the vehicle.

“You're mad at me,” I concluded out loud once we were side by side.

“I don't want you on campus,” Dr. Miller said right away. “I'll give you whatever grade you want, just stay away from there.”

“What?” I shook my head, “I can’t do that.”

“Well, you can’t seem to keep yourself out of harm’s way, either.” He took the lead toward the front door and I hurried to keep up with him.

“I haven’t been in harm’s way.”

Dr. Miller whipped around as he struggled to find the right key amidst his frustration. “You had no idea Tyler was behind you.”

“Trevor,” I corrected.

“Whatever the hell his name is.” He finally found the key to the door and aggressively shoved it into the lock.

“No one was after me,” I insisted, trailing him in.

“But what if he had been?” Dr. Miller asked, “What if he had a rope.. or a knife and I hadn’t been there. What if he crept up behind you and..” He turned away, exasperated and unable to finish the thought out loud.

“It was just Trevor!” I challenged. “I’m fine. I’m not going to get murdered on campus.”

“How do you know it’s not Trevor?” He put his hands on his hips and shrugged wildly. “Hmm? How do you know that? How do you know he wasn’t about to drag you down in between the buildings with him just before I interrupted him?”

“Because.. I just know.”

“You don’t know.” Dr. Miller shook his head, “He had his hood up, head down and was rushing up behind you.”

“Forgive me, but I’m not used to being treated like glass,” I said, “Like some damsel in distress. You. Trevor. James.” I shook my head, “I haven’t done anything wrong and that’s how I feel. Like I’m doing everything fucking wrong.”

I stormed away from him into the kitchen and struggled to open the liquor cabinet on top of the fridge, the same way Dr. Miller did when he was stressed or upset. My fingers barely managed to sweep the door open but I got it, and then I began struggling to reach for a bottle of Ketel One.

“Fuck.” I whispered to myself and then turned when Dr. Miller reached up and retrieved it for me, placing it down on the countertop. Our eyes met for a brief second and I angrily glanced up at a a pair of cabinets that were at my eye level. I yanked them open, only to be met with dishes and small plates. Like clockwork, Dr. Miller opened one a few cabinets down and slid a cocktail glass across the marble.

I caught it in my hand just before it knocked into the vodka bottle and poured myself a small helping of the liquor. I had never drunk vodka straight, always with a mixer. Especially not warm vodka.

Fuck it, I thought. Just to be stubborn I drank it straight and immediately regretted it. In my mind, I wanted to down the liquid without so much as making a face and then glare at Dr. Miller. It was a whole pissed off, badass Beth Dutton move in my head. That image crashed and burned when I scrunched my entire face in disapproval and struggled to get the entire gulp down without spitting it out.

The burn. The warmth. The taste. There was no hiding my disapproval.

I heard Dr. Miller chuckle and opened my eyes, trying to salvage one ounce of toughness. I popped my lips together and shuddered from the lingering punishment I’d willed upon myself.

“You could’ve asked for some orange juice,” he said, unable to hold back a smile. “Or cranberry.”

I stared back at him and he casually folded his arms across his chest, still grinning.

“It’s not funny,” I said sternly, giving the glass a light slam down onto the countertop.

“It’s a little funny.” Dr. Miller headed to the fridge and retrieved the juice, pouring some in the glass I’d just drank from.

I needed to get the taste out of my mouth so I gave in and drank half of it.

“I can’t have you wandering alone after dark with two unsolved murders,” Dr. Miller said calmly.

“I wasn’t wandering alone in the dark.”

“Then what were you doing?”

“Look for my phone.”

“Alone in the dark.” He shook his head.

“It’s not like I could call someone to come help me,” I argued.

“You could’ve gone to campus police and asked them to help you.”

“And see James?” I raised my eyebrows with my hands on my hips, “I haven’t seen him since that little incident.”

“This is bigger than that,” Dr. Miller argued. “And if not James then ask someone else to help. I can’t be there to watch you every second to make sure you’re okay.”

“And you don’t have to,” I continued to argue.

He let out a deep breath and put his hands on his hips, looking around. “Then I’ll just make sure you get where you need to be every time you’re there. It’s easy with my classes, but when you take your Wednesday night class let me know when you’re leaving and I’ll excuse myself and watch you go.”

“No.” I shook my head.

“At least until the murders are solved.”

“I need to be able to walk to my car on my own, Joel.”

“Call campus police. Please,” he begged, “For me. Don’t go anywhere by yourself. Don’t be alone with Trevor.”

I huffed a sigh and finished the juice before placing the glass in the sink. I turned my back and rinsed it out to give myself a minute to think.

“Fine,” I agreed, “I’ll call James and ask him to come walk me to my car. But I have to go to my classes. I can’t just stay off Woodbridge’s campus forever.”

“Fine,” he echoed, though I could see he wasn’t happy about it.

“I have one more class tomorrow,” I reminded him, “And then we’ll be off to Vermont, away from all this.” I set the glass on the drying rack and then walked past Dr. Miller to leave the kitchen.

“Where are you going?” He asked when I rounded out of the room.

“To bed,” I called back to him.

Deep down I knew he was genuinely concerned about my safety. I knew he wasn’t wrong about not being alone at night. But I hated feeling like a piece of glass that everyone thought could break at any minute. I hated being thought of as fragile - or weak. That wasn’t the intention of Dr. MIller or Trevor or even James. But that’s how the constant protectiveness and advice and everything in between was starting to make me feel.

I wandered up the winding staircase to the next floor and didn’t look back as I went into the bedroom. I stripped out of my clothes and tossed them in the hamper before finding an oversized long-sleeved t-shirt to throw on over my underwear.

I didn’t go through my normal nightly routine. I just wanted to curl up, close my eyes and forget about all the dramatic events that had been brought around by the paranoia of the murders on campus. I tossed the fluffy comforter over myself and when I closed my eyes I sensed Dr. Miller enter the room.

He strolled up to the bedside and squatted down beside where I laid so we were eye-to-eye.

“Don’t be mad,” he said.

“You were the mad one.” I had never challenged him quite to this level before, but I couldn’t help it. I was in a mood and I couldn’t shake it.

“I know I was,” Dr. Miller admitted. “And I understand why you feel the way that you feel. I’m just so obsessed with keeping you safe that I’m willing to put everything else on the backburner. If you’re mad at me, you’re mad at me. But if something ever happened to you, I wouldn’t even know what to do, (Y/N).”

Our eyes were still fixed on one another. I finally accepted his olive branch and gave in just a little. “I’ll call campus security if there’s a time I have to be alone at night.”

“Thank you.” He put a hand on my face and then rose to his feet to remove his tie and strip down into his boxer-briefs.

I remained on my side as he slunk into bed, setting the alarm just before he did so. Dr. MIller wrapped an arm around my midsection and kissed the back of my shoulder. “Don’t be mad,” he whispered in my ear.

“I’m not mad.” I sighed and turned around to face him.

“I don’t you being like this.” He smirked smally and let it fade. “I like when you’re looking at me like I’m the only man in the world.”

I managed a smile. “You are the only man in my world.”

“I don’t know, you’ve got the entire campus chasing you through the dark just to give you roses or return your cell phone to you.”

“Jealous?” I asked, finally feeling just a small dose of playfulness running through me.

“Of course I am,” Dr. MIller said, winking at me.

I accepted a quick kiss on my lips and closed my eyes as he cuddled me against his chest. I took in a few deep breaths and felt the heaviness in my eyes begin to take over.

“Good night,” he whispered as I began to drift off. “I love you.”

Good. We’re not going to bed mad at least. “I love you, too.”

CLICK HERE FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER

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[wildemaven]

fall apart, again : interlude - a letter to joel | joel miller

-> pairing: joel miller x ofc!genevieve

-> wc: 1001

-> content warning: 18+ blog; angst, alluding to loss, post outbreak, reader is Joel’s wife, reader has a name but has zero descriptive features,

-> a/n: I kind of abandoned this series and didn’t really have any plans to finish it. It felt good where they ended in chapter 3 so I was just going to call it good. But then I was reading through the chapters and kind of found some inspiration to write something for them again. Big thank you to @gnpwdrnwhiskey for always listening and encouraging and fixing my writing!!

series masterlist / playlist

previous / next

Joel,

Feels weird to be sitting here, on our bed, in our home. I guess I should mention we made it back to Austin— Steve and I. 

I met Steve in the ER in Laredo on the evening of the outbreak— he lost his wife. We managed to make it out of there together and promised to keep each other safe. He heard there’s a QZ in Denver, so we’re making our way north. 

I made him promise to stop in Austin. I just had to see for myself, see if there was a chance you and Sarah might still be here— alive. 

Like I said, it feels weird to be here. Seeing our house in this state. Disheveled and abandoned, but still feeling very much like the place we thought we’d live forever. It’s like a personal landmark now, for what once was such a beautiful home filled with so many beautiful memories. Maybe it’s more of a mausoleum of sorts. Kind of morbid, but also very true. ‘Here lies the Millers, before the world went to shit.’

Except, I’m here and you’re not. 

I think the worst part of all of this is not knowing if you’re okay. Steve says I have to accept that there’s a chance that you’re not, that any worst case scenario that I have lost sleep over, might be my reality. But I refuse to accept that. So, I silently pretend that you are okay. That you have managed to get Sarah and yourself, and hopefully Tommy, to safety. You’re somewhere out there protecting our baby girl and staying strong for her like you’ve always done. 

I feel like I’m rambling. My thoughts are just all over the place being here and thinking of you. Or maybe I’m just dragging out my time here because the minute I leave, it will be like a final goodbye to this place— and I don’t think I’m ready for it just yet. 

It’s like I can still smell the faint musk of your cologne in the air. Like you’ll walk through our bedroom door, pulling your keys and wallet from your jeans and tossing them on the dresser, all while telling me about some mishap on a job site that set you back a few days. I can just see that grumpy look you wear so well. Then, when you’ve let it all out, you instantly soften when you finally look at me sitting on our bed and then you’re apologizing for boring me with your work bullshit. I would listen to your work bullshit every single day if it meant we could be together again. 

When I got here, it was like I was being pulled into Sarah’s room. I sat there for a while, remembering all the times we had laid there with her reading her bedtime stories until she would fall asleep. I miss our dance parties while we would wait for you to come home, her insisting I had zero rhythm anytime one of her little boy band hits came on and I attempted to keep up with her choreographed routine she had memorized. I’m taking a few things of hers, I hope that’s okay. I don’t think I can come back here and I want to have something of hers. 

I found your ring on our dresser. Don’t worry I’m not mad you aren’t wearing it. Gosh, I can’t believe I would get so worked up over seeing it laying there instead of on your finger. I know how much it bothered you wearing it to work and worrying about losing it or getting it caught on something, and yet I would still get annoyed over it. But, maybe you weren’t meant to wear it so I could find it today, so I could have a piece of you with me always. 

I guess I should wrap this up. I know how much you love when I can go on and on about anything. 

I will write to you. Whenever I get the chance. To Sarah, too. I’ll keep writing to you both for as long as I can. 

I love you Joel. I always have. And I always will. Wherever you are, I just hope you know that. 

Forever and always,

Eve 

*

“Hey, Genevieve— ya doin’ okay up there?” Steve calls up from downstairs. 

“Yeah! Just give me a sec! I’ll be right down.” You try to hide your pain as you respond, wiping the few tears sprinkled across your cheeks. 

You fold your letter to Joel, placing it securely in an envelope you had found next to the pile of printer paper you tucked away with the items of Sarah’s in your pack. You push yourself off the bed, walking around to the side where Joel slept since the day you moved in. You run your handover the indentation in his pillow, remembering how much you loved to wake up before him just so you could watch him sleep. 

Lifting the corner of his pillow, you gently place the letter underneath it. The last place you talked to him, is the first place you’ll write to him. You imagine he’s laying there, sleeping peacefully when you kiss the top of his pillow. 

Grabbing your pack off the bed, you take one last look at the space, your heart clenching at the finality of this visit. You force your legs to move towards the direction of the door, stopping briefly at the dresser to grab Joel’s ring, tucking it into one of your packs inner pockets safely. 

Steve is sitting on the couch when you finally make it downstairs. His patience is something you’ve appreciated since the day you met. He knew how much stopping here meant to you, and he told you to take as much time as you needed. 

“All good?” He asks once you’ve stepped off the last step. 

“No, but it will be, I think.” You tell him as you make your way out the front door. 

[zedif-y]

There are pros and cons to training.

The cons…. Outweigh the pros, probably, if Jimmy’s being honest. Like, really. Joel’s ruthless- the amount of times Jimmy’s been thrown to the floor, back and butt aching, only for Joel to shrug at his misery, throw a pretty smile, and say: “Up.”

Well. It’s a lot of times.

He doesn’t even know why. It’s not like Jimmy is mean about Joel’s awful cooking skills (though, he is, admittedly, getting slowly better), or about how quickly Joel’s house falls back into an absolute mess (other than a couple minor comments about how it looks like his place was ravaged by a pack of wolves), or- The point is that Jimmy is very polite, thank you. And doesn’t deserve this.

So, please, imagine his shock, awe, and horror when Joel walks through the front door, chest puffed out with pride, holds a bow up into the air, and says, “Today, you’re learning archery.”

Jimmy has half a mind to just run into the bedroom and barricade the door.

———

Jimmy did not end up barricading the bedroom door, because he had good normal reactions to minor inconveniences (and also, a little bit, because Joel didn’t own anything to barricade a door with. So instead, he’s out in the clearing where the two of them sword fight, but closer to the treeline.

“So,” Joel says, having finished his terribly lacking explanation. “Go ahead.”

Jimmy makes what is probably an absolutely pitifully horrified face at Joel, who simply shrugs and gestures to the tree he’s supposed to be trying to hit. It’s much less what Joel instructed to him to do and much more what he’s seen from the knights back home that allows Jimmy to hold the arrow and string between his fingers, and then pull back.

The arrow pops out from between his fingers and falls unceremoniously to the floor.

“Oh,” Joel says, staring down at it.

“Oh,” Jimmy echos.

“Okay,” Joel says, picking the arrow up and grabbing Jimmy’s limp hand. “Listen up.” Jimmy’s listening. “So, I cut a lil groove into the arrow back here, right?”

Jimmy inspects the back of the arrow and- oh. Yeah.

“So you put the string into that groove, and you hold it between your fingers. Your fingers are on the string.” Joel takes the bow from Jimmy and places the string in the hand he was already holding. He bites the arrow between his teeth, then curls Jimmy’s pointer, index, and ring finger around the string. He slides the arrow between his pointer and index knuckles, and then looks up at Jimmy and grins.

Jimmy realizes very suddenly that they are very close. And decides, also very suddenly, that he is not going to think about the fact that he can feel Joel’s breath on his lips- he’s not thinking about it!

“Now try it for real,” Joel says, leaning in mischievously- Which Jimmy feels normally about, in case you were wondering - and then leans back and holds the wood of the bow out expectantly.

Jimmy takes it, because he feels normal. And taking things offered to you is the normal thing to do.

He wraps his fingers around the string the way Joel had just told him to, and pulls back, back, until his arm can’t go back any further, and then lets go.

The arrow doesn’t go very far.

Jimmy slouches a little, and Joel pats his thigh reassuringly. Which Jimmy still feels normal about - Shut up!!! He’s being extremely well adjusted about this, thank you. It’s Joel’s fault for being all weird during sword practice, so now Jimmy is getting all flustered at nothing during archery. It’s absolutely, one hundred percent Joel’s fault. Obviously.

Joel goes to pick up the arrow, and Jimmy waits, definitely not pouting, with the bow hanging from his hands.

“It was… a nice first try,” Joel says with the voice of someone who is trying very hard to give a compliment that is not at all deserved.

“What happened?” Jimmy asks.

“Well, you’re all-“ Joel stands up straight, and Jimmy blinks. That tells him nothing. “You have to be, like-“ Joel cuts himself off again, turning to Jimmy and twisting him by the shoulders so that they’re facing each other, hips to the treeline. Joel looks down at their feet and kicks so that Jimmy’s feet are a little further apart.

“There we go!” Joel says, offering another grin.

They’re really close again.

Jimmy decides to not think about the way Joel’s eyes crinkle when he smiles in that certain toothy way, or the way his canines are always a little sharp and make Jimmy so curious about what they feel like (which is a normal average thought, thank you), or how really cutely long Joel’s eyelashes are, actually-

Jimmy blinks, because he’s not thinking about it.

“So?” Jimmy says.

“So, now, when you shoot, you have your arm’s length,” Joel begins, grabbing Jimmy’s hand (and also the bow, which might be important to mention) and raising it up to point at the trees. “And also you have aaaaaalllllll of this,” he adds, tracing his finger from Jimmy’s shoulder to his collarbone.

“What?” Jimmy asks, feeling a little bit distracted by the tingling feeling left behind on his chest.

Joel rolls his eyes. “Look,” he says, voice dry. “Pull the string back.”

Jimmy does as requested, putting the arrow against the string, pulling the string back, and back, and back, and- oh, and back more. Okay.

“There!” Joel cheers. “You gotta bring it all the way back to here.”

He brushes the edge of Jimmy’s lip, and Jimmy lets the arrow fly immediately at the feeling.

HE’S FEELING NORMAL, THANK YOU FOR ASKING.

The arrow doesn’t sink into the wood, but it hits it! So! Yay!

“Oh, hey, pretty good,” Joel hums, appreciative.

Jimmy hopes it’s good enough for them to be done, because he needs to lie down. Is it hot out? It feels hot out.

“We’re not done ‘till you get it through the wood though,” Joel says.

Jimmy thinks he feels his spirit leave him, honest.

“That’s fine,” Jimmy says with his mouth, because complaining has never really worked against Joel. “That’s cool. That’s good. That’s. Yeah.”

Joel raises a brow at him as he picks up the arrow. “Okay, now, this time, actually bring the arrow back to your lip,” Joel says.

“Right!” Jimmy replies, holding a hand out for the arrow.

He plants one foot behind him, knocks the arrow, pulls the string back, then makes sure his hands come right to the edge of his lip like Joel said. Then he aims….

“Your arm is shaking,” Joel notes.

Jimmy turns to look at him. “So wh-?”

Joel grabs him by the chin (which makes him feel normal feelings) and Jimmy lets go of the string. The arrow flies, but Jimmy is not at all thinking about it, or even Joel sort of yelling at him.

“Don’t look at me, idiot!!! The string is gonna slap your nose or your eye or somethin’ important and you’re gonna get hurt!!! You keep your eyes on the prize, not on- me!!!”

Some traitorous voice in Jimmy’s head notes that Joel could be considered a prize, which Jimmy quickly shuts up.

Joel’s still muttering (but with more cursing this time) when he picks up the arrow. “Don’t look at me,” Joel hisses as he passes the arrow over.

Jimmy nods, because what else is he gonna do, and then knocks the arrow again. Pulls it back, to his lip, and-

“Your arm is still shaking,” Joel says.

This time, Jimmy doesn’t turn his head. “Well, what do you want me to do about it??”

Joel sighs, and then walks around to stand behind Jimmy.

Normal feelings.

He puts both his arms up and puts his hand over Jimmy’s hand on the string and helps him pull back. His other hand is on Jimmy’s hip, steadying him. Joel’s biceps are rock solid beneath Jimmy’s arm (normal feelings) and his chest is rising and falling slowly against his back. Joel rests his head between Jimmy’s shoulder blades, and Jimmy’s breath hitches.

He can feel Joel’s breath against him when he says, “We let go together. On three.”

Jimmy doesn’t even let himself nod.

“One,” Joel starts.

“Two,” he says, shifting to look at their clasped hands (or maybe the arrow).

“Three,” he breathes against Jimmy’s ear, and Jimmy doesn’t even choose to let the arrow go- the shock of the feeling against his ear makes his hand open all on it’s own.

The arrow lodges into the tree, a fair bit above where Jimmy was aiming, and stays.

Joel steps back, apparently completely unaware of what he’s just done to Jimmy’s heart. “You did it!” Joel cheers. “Good job! You can go back inside now, I’ll clean up!”

Jimmy stumbles slowly back into the shack of a cabin in the woods, and falls into a pool on the bed.

He feels normal. So so so so normal. About everything. All of this.

Normal feelings.

L. L OH MY GOD. OH YMG OD GOHDYMDS GKLJWHKJDSGHIOWJHEGS DGOYSDJGHSDJKGHSDJKGH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

YOU DONT UDNERSTNADS. YOU DONT UDNERSTAND IVE ACTUALLY STOPPED RBEATHING THIS IS AMAZING AND EVERYONE SHOULD READ IT EVERYONE LOOK

OH MY GOODNESS

L YOU ARE LOVELY!!!!! MY GOD IM GOING TO READ THIS VOER AND OVER AND OVER WHAT THE FUCK

YOU WROTE JIMMY SO WELL!!!! FUCK!!!!! (EXPLDOES!!!!!!!)

[crystaljellie]

My Post about Jimmy and Joel!! Finally!

So Jimmy and Joel know each other in their original world, as co-workers, they both work at the same cafe as it's right next to their uni.

They got isekai'd completely randomly, like they just went to sleep woke up the next day and BAMM, Grian standing over them as they're lying on the grass. Grian actually very quickly clocks that they're not from this world after originally thinking oh new race? Then realises, 'ah now watcher shennangins.'

He drags Joel and Jimmy off somewhere to hide and explains the situation to them and they're both sooo confused.

Grian kind of disguises them? He starts by making Jimmy a pair of fake wings, but then the next morning once Jimmy tries to take him off (They stayed over night) They just... don't come off, and then he realises bam he's a canary avian now, and Joel has become a woof elf? Well problem solved about being disguised.

Grian's plans for getting Jimmy and Joel out of here have backtracked a little bit, because now he needs to teach Jimmy how to fly and Joel how to handle his magic. So he calls in Scar who has taught a lot of baby avian's how to fly before, So Grian and Scar work on helping Jimmy with his wings, and then Grian helps him through some of the more complicated wing work.

Scar and Joel both being elves now work on magic together, Joel gets the hang of it really quickly.

And then Grian gets bored and sends them off!! Into the wild, tells them to find someone who might help them, he tells them bout the different realms but not the different worlds.

So Jimmy and Joel head off together.... but when crossing the ice realm they get separated in a snow storm, Jimmy takes shelter in Etho's house on accident. And Joel ends up finding a portal to the fey wilds.

So Jimmy and Etho chat for a bit and Etho points him in the direction of the southern realms after walking him out. Jimmy also walks a bit through the no lands (lands that do not belong to any realm) which is where he runs into Scott tending to his flowers. At this time Scott is not expecting anyone so he's still mostly in his starborn form but quickly switch back to looking like a sea elf when Jimmy arrives. And it's gay, it's really gay, Scott is obviously flirting with Jimmy and Jimmy's like "Wow..... pretty..." and Scott shows him some magic. After hanging out for a while Jimmy tells Scott about his mission to look for 'help' in the southern kingdom but didn't specify why. Scott is suspicious but is more so annoyed that the royal order has been brought up, but like, he's gay and decides, 'no Jimmy is not dealing with the royal order on his own I'm going to help him'

So walking to the kingdom they run into Owen, short chat and then Owen says he'll wait for them outside the city in case something goes wrong, which defo puts Jimmy on edge.

Other things happen Jimmy meets the royal order, and he recognises Martyn, by all means he shouldn't, but he does.

Uhm other things happen too which ends up with Jimmy going with Scott to the sun realms in search of something to save the southern kingdoms. I love flower husbands

All the while Joel is in the feywilds, where he meets Lizzie and is trying to figure out how to leave.

Sorry I'm Jimmy brained I have nothing else for Joel rn

[elliespuns]

I always wondered how it would have been, in an alternative canon of course, if joel and ellie somehow met each other but in his hunter days

What about this?

He meets her in a shootout that happens between the group of people that she joined recently and the hunters he is a part of, just when she jumps him in an attempt to stop him from killing the people she barely knows and feels don't deserve to die like this. But he shakes her off; she falls down off his broad shoulders, hits her head, and falls unconscious.

When he notices that the asshole who just jumped him is actually a little freckled girl, he doesn't have the heart to kill her, so he picks her up and sneaks away from the scene with her, planning to make sure the kid is okay and then leave her somewhere far away from the others because he has seen what these men are capable of and he's not having this. He can be fucked up, but he was never that fucked up. This is a kid. This is a little girl he accidentally hurt, and he has to make it right.

He takes her to the nearest woods and waits for her to wake up. When that happens and she opens her eyes to see a tall, huge man sitting on a log in front of her, probably just being an old creep, eyeing her or something, she starts panicking, but he's quick to get up and grab her. Wanting to explain what happened to her, he has no chance to do so when she starts fighting him. "Let go of me, you piece of shit! Motherfucker!" She's screaming at him, reaching for the switchblade in the back pocket of her jeans. But he's holding her tight; she can't move. "Fuck, kid, just hold on a second, I— Jesus, girl! You're stronger than you look." He comes to understand just now that he's not dealing with a fragile doll. He's dealing with a foul-mouthed, courageous, beaten by life, and strong as a bull girl who won't just make this any easier on him. Will she?

"Get your hands off me, you f— What did you do with my fucking knife?" She exclaims, finding herself worrying more about losing a damn knife that she got from her mother than about the fact that some stranger of a man is not willing to let her go. She really must have hurt her head badly, she thinks to herself.

"I have it in my pocket. Couldn't risk you stabbing my eyes out." He leers and loses his tight grip on her, letting her know he's not about to hurt her but still holding her arms in place, just in case. "Listen. You fell, you hit your head, and I got you out of there. I'm not going to hurt you, okay?" He says, letting go of her. That makes her jolt away from him.

"Give me my fucking knife." She pants, her voice quivering and her chest heaving from all the fighting. She feels dizzy. Her heart is beating fast. She's afraid of that mountain of a man in front of her, but she can't let it show. She can't. "And don't you ever touch me."

"Why do I have a feeling that you care about that stupid little knife more than about the fact that you've just been kidnapped?" He laughs under his breath, reaching into the back pocket of his pants and taking out her knife to hold it in front of his sight. "What's so special about it anyway?"

"That's none of your fucking business." She spits at him as she takes a swift step toward him and yanks it off his hand, turning the knife against him, her hand shaking. "Why wouldn't you just leave me there? W—why did you take me with you?" She asks, scared of the answer. What if he really just wants to be creepy with her?

He stands up and brushes the dirt off his knees before he takes a step closer to her and grabs her shaky fist that's pointing the knife at him, and with the help of his other hand, he carefully folds the knife in hers. "Because I'm not a fucking monster. And besides, I'm not planning to keep you." He says, his voice cold as he quickly takes his hand off of hers. "I see you're fine now. You're free to go."

When she woke up and saw him, she thought this was going to be the end of her, not knowing what to expect. But it's actually her now who's suddenly unsure of how she feels. She's alone. Where the fuck is her group? They're all probably dead. Thanks to this asshole. She has nothing. No one. This man could've killed her already or left her to die, but he wouldn't have.

"Wait..." She says, making him stop on his way. "I-"

"Yes, kid. You can go with me." He cuts in as he turns around and starts walking the other way, realizing that leaving this kid behind with nothing or no one would be the worst thing he could've ever done. "But you mind your own business. I'll do me. You do you. Okay?" He warns her, as he's not at all in a mood for company. "You keep quiet, and maybe I can get you something to eat."

She nods with a soft, quiet "Sure." slipping through her lips as she takes a look at her folded switch blade and squeezes it tightly in her palm before she follows that man. "I'm Ellie, by the way." She says quietly, her voice so calm and soothing.

"Joel." He clears his throat, finding it hard to believe he found himself with a kid. He's too old for this shit. Then why does he have a feeling this girl—Ellie—is here to stay?

I know they would've been a lot younger in this canonverse, but once I read "if Joel and Ellie met" I instantly imagined them as we know them BUT in this setting and situation :)

[whiskeybeforesunset]

Ghosts Part 2 | Joel Miller

Pairing: Joel Miller x GN!Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Synopsis: Reader is with Joel and Ellie as they continue their stay in Jackson. As always, slow burn. Bittersweet talks and heated arguments. Maybe a bit of a different kind of heat as a treat. 

Warnings: Arguing, Joel enters a room before knocking as sees the Reader somewhat undressed (think swimsuit), with that Reader’s body is mentioned but no specific details are given, out of character Joel, shamefully little about Ellie in this chapter.

Author’s note **IMPORTANT PLEASE READ**: For those who have enjoyed the story so far, I’m wondering if you have a preference on how I handle the events of Episode 8. I understand the importance of that darker storyline, and that some readers may prefer it remain in this adaptation. However, I don’t believe Ellie’s SA is necessary in what is meant to be a love story. There are also several logistical issues as to how Ellie may have been captured if there was still an adult able to hunt for/protect her. Right now, my favorite alternative is either Joel or the Reader having a bad case of the flu (fever so high they could die), so there’s still a potential danger without having to include that particular storyline. Plus, everyone loves a good sick fic. Let me know if you guys might enjoy that, if you have any additional thoughts I would love to hear them. 

Previous Chapter, Next Chapter

___

The heaviness between you and Joel dissipates as the lights sputter back on and voices around you begin to discuss the movie. Tommy suggests you and Joel come over to theirs for a late night drink, but Joel swiftly declines and begins to make his way towards the nearest exit. You give Tommy a sympathetic shrug before following Joel outside. 

You step out into the cold night air just in time to see Ellie swiftly making her way back to the house, at least you hope that’s where she’s going. She just needs some alone time, you tell yourself. It’s not like she has much of an opportunity for it traveling across the country. He seems to consider following her, but slows his pace upon noticing the familiar tree in his path.

“Y’know,” you say, slightly out of breath as you jog up to be beside him. “I was thinking about taking the scenic route back. He peers at you through the corner of his eye. Looking back up to where Ellie was last visible he exhales slowly, creating a puff of steam as he does so.

“You’re welcome to join me, if you’d like.” He accepts your offer with a short nod, and follows as you turn and begin the alternative path to your temporary home. 

In the absence of the bustling movie-goers, a silence once again falls over you. Looking at Joel, you notice his eyebrows are set in a way that makes him look more irritated than usual. Who knew that was even possible? Still, there was something about him that was just so… striking. Not in that way, because Joel is well, Joel… right? But still, you can’t deny the way the sparing lamp light accents his more rugged features. It certainly causes one’s imagination to-

Joel clears his throat and you suddenly become very aware of the fact that you are staring, and presumably have been doing so for a long time. You quickly swivel your head away from him, hoping the cold would provide a good enough cover for the pink on your cheeks.

“So,” you start, desperate to clear the thoughts at the top of your mind, “Maria seems like a good fit for Tommy.” He huffs out a laugh. The sound of your boots against gravel count out the seconds in which you wait for a longer response from him. 

“Well, I think it’s sweet.” A small smile comes to your face at the idea of your friend being able to live a fulfilling life in Jackson.

“Sweet, huh?” Joel asks, not so much denying the label as he is surprised that you’re saying it.

“Yeah I mean, it’s nice to know there’s a chance of ending up with something like that. Even in this world.” You elaborate.

“I didn’t think you the type,” he looks at you and says with a slightly amused tone. 

“Yeah, well,” you return his gaze. “With the right person of course.” You both stay like that for a moment, your eyes glance at his lips as he opens and closes them, debating whether or not to say something. 

“What about you?” You hesitantly ask, immediately regretting it as Joel turns his head to face forward again. Although you briefly wonder if you had really said anything at all due to his lack of response. You’re eyes still on him, you watch his face shift through emotions. 

“I, uh,” he pauses looking down at the gravel path. “I reckon I’m passed that sort of thing now, not really an option anymore.” He turns his heading, as if to avoid your reaction. 

“Oh,” is the final word said as you two conclude your walk to the house silently.

Upon entering you remember your plan to talk to Ellie, but decide against it when you see Joel heading for the room she’s staying in. It’s probably for the best, he’s always better at talking her down anyways. You sigh, and decide you’ll finish off this very confusing day with a hot shower. Might as well while you can, right?

…

Turning the shower head off, you notice yelling you hadn’t previously made out through the water splashing on tile. 

You make your way out of the bathroom and into the adjoining bedroom, trying to catch snippets of the argument as you dry off and begin to get dressed. A door slams and loud footsteps make their way up the stairs. 

You make a mental note to check in on the two of them -separately- sometime tomorrow. However, this plan is scratched as Joel bursts through the door. 

“Oh,” Joel’s rage-filled face quickly fills with embarrassment and something you can’t quite make out as his eyes scan over your body. “Sorry, I, um-” he stutters out, turning so that he's perpendicular to the doorway. 

“It’s fine, Joel.” You offer him a reassuring smile as a blush comes over your face. After all, he didn’t see anything he wouldn’t have seen at a public pool back in the day. Even if the context is a bit more… intimate. 

“Tell me, what’s so important that you had to immediately come and speak to me.” You say in a joking tone, grabbing something to finish covering yourself up. Joel turns to you, eyes slightly unfocused. His brain yet to recover from the unexpected scene discovered upon his entrance. 

“That one sounded a bit more heated than normal.” You add, hoping to jog his memory.

“What? Oh, yes. Yes. We uh,” his gaze hardens as he regains his composure, also taking a moment to close the door. “We need to talk.”

“Okay.” You respond, taking a seat on the edge of the bed and adjusting to his more serious tone. 

“Look, I think it might be best if going forward you take Ellie alone.” Your eyes quickly look up at him. He remains standing near the entrance of the room, arms crossed and face turned slightly to avoid your gaze. 

“What?” You say, blinking rapidly as your mouth finally catches up to your brain. It feels like it’s processing a million thoughts per second.

“This last month, all I’ve learned is how weak I’ve become.” Joel says, bringing a hand to his creased brow.

“What are you talking about?” You challenge, unable to understand how he came to this conclusion. 

“Tess.” At the mention of her name, the room goes quiet. “If it wasn’t for me she…” he sighed and began pacing around the small room. 

“What happened in Kansas City, I’m too slow and deaf. Christ, if you weren’t there.” Joel takes a deep breath before continuing. “She’s only 14, and all I’ve done so far is put her in further danger. And you…” You shake your head saying his name to begin to dispel what he is saying but he cuts you off.

“I’m weak.” He says quietly.

“You are not weak.” You respond at a similar volume.

“Lately there are these moments… like earlier today,” he states, finally sparing you a glance. “That’s not the first time it’s happened, it’s just the first time you’ve seen it.” 

The room goes quiet as you process this new information. Joel comes to sit next to you at the foot of the bed.

“I have these dreams,” he says shakily. “I don’t know what happens in them, I can’t remember. I just know that when I wake up, I’ve lost something.”

Cool water drips from your hair and onto your neck, dampening your shirt. You sit in shock, unsure of how to respond.

“I’m failing in my sleep. It’s all I do, it’s all I’ve ever done is fail her.”

“You’re not-” you start, but as you turn to look at him you are met with a teary eyed glare, begging you not to continue. You close your eyes and rub two fingers against your temple, questioning the events that have brought you to this point, sighing as you lay back on the bed.

“She likes you more.” You say casually as you stare at the ceiling, changing the topic slightly but still remaining on subject.

“No she doesn’t.” Joel says in a dejected voice. You heard a rustling of fabric as your averted gaze allows for Joel to wipe his tears without feeling judged.

“Yes she does.” You state matter-of-factly.

“Trust me, after the… talk we just had, no she doesn’t.” He says sharply. You stare at the motionless ceiling fan debating whether or not to ask.

“What’d you say?” You question, curiosity getting the better of you.

“Same thing I told you.” He says in an exhausted tone. 

“Well, I can see why she might hate you then.” You say half joking. He turns his head to glare at you but doesn’t respond. “What’d she say?”

“She… she said she wasn’t Sarah.” His response causes you to sit up.

“She knows about Sarah?” You ask, he nods in response. You sit for a minute trying to form a response, before you can, Joel speaks again.

“She won’t want me there. You’ll be fine, better, without me.” He says as he begins to stand up.

“Well what if I want you there?” You say, standing to your feet. The exclamation surprises you as much as it does him. He turns back to look at you. You feel your face begin to tighten as the reality of the situation begins to settle in. You aren’t a fool, you know what happens if you leave alone with Ellie tomorrow. By the time you return to Jackson, Joel will be long gone. You’ll have no way of getting in contact or finding him again. If he goes now, you know it’s goodbye. 

“What if I need you?” You say, embarrassed by the wavering in your voice. The light from the bedside lamp reflects his dark eyes. His hand reaches forward momentarily, before returning to his side, balling up into a fist. 

“Tommy’ll meet you at the stables tomorrow morning.” He says, not acknowledging your words as he looks at the wooden floor boards below. “They’ll be a horse ready for you.” Joel quickly exists before you can reply. You feel a rise in your gut as the slammed door echoes throughout the room.

“God dammit!” You yell, throwing your bag across the room. 

Your anger fades observing your scattered belongings. Deep torrid breaths become shorter and more broken as you feel tears start to form in your eyes. Your throat tightens and you suppress a hiccup from escaping. 

You bite your lip and shake your head, wiping the tears away. Crawling into bed, you tell yourself you don’t have the liberty to be upset over disagreements with your now ex… companion. You have a job to do, keep the kid safe, get her where she needs to go. That’s what’s important, you reassure yourself before turning off the light. 

Sleep does not come easy though, as the events of the day replay in your head. You shift onto your back and stare at the shadows running across the ceiling, unable to keep the image of Joel’s heart broken eyes out of your mind. 

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

I just wanted to pop in and say that I hope you know that we are all rooting for you to be your best self and you should never feel bad for taking time for yourself! I know that it can be a lot of pressure to be constantly productive—especially in the fanfiction community— but you are ALWAYS your most important reader. You do this for you, and the enjoyment that others get from it is really just a bonus ☺️ I adore your work and think that you capture the tone of the characters just perfectly. I can’t wait to read what you post as soon as you post it but ALWAYS know that this should never make you feel guilty. Life happens, and the people on here aren’t always going to be your #1 priority. We will always be here to celebrate you and your work, no matter when you get to it. Love you so much JJ. ❤️🥹

I LOVE ALL OF Y'ALL SO MUCH I CANNOT EXPRESS TO EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU HOW MUCH I APPRECIATE EVERY MESSAGE THAT WAS SENT TO ME.

If I reply to every single one then I'll be flooding y'all's timeline with the same sappy words over and over again, but I just want y'all to know that I've never felt so loved and honored 😭 I know the fanfic community does have the reputation of being high pressure to be productive, but I have never ever felt that way with you guys. You're always so loving and understanding and sweet and that means so much to me.

These last few days have been rough, and I'm still struggling a bit. Long story short, I have a high stress job that no longer offers any reward. I used to be able to put up with the awful stuff b/c at the end of the day I felt like I was making a difference but as of late that has not been the case. [it's part of the reason why I've been working so hard on my original stuff b/c if I can somehow wiggle my way into the professional writing world then I can spend more time doing what I love.]

Anyways, all the stress exhausted me to the point where I didn't have the energy I usually dedicate to writing and I only wanna give y'all the best of what I can do rather than half ass a chapter or drabble.

Tonight, I'm hoping to update the Sugar Daddy!Joel story b/c that's the closet update to being done (and I'm in a 'handsome cowboy millionaire takes care of a down on her luck woman' lol) Then tomorrow I'm hoping to make it a Din Djarin day and get updates on all his stuff out!

[panyvivienda]

¹ Just for the night

summary: looking for a safe place to spend the night, joel and ellie come across a girl singing a david bowie song at the top of her lungs while picking carrots.

a/n:  sorry if there are any mistakes, english it's not my first language. part 2??or not??maybe?? feel like it could have been better 😪

Fatigue ran through every bone in their bodies, making it increasingly difficult to stand upright. Joel seemed to hide it better than Ellie, who every two minutes stopped in her place and said to him that she could not longer feel her legs.

"Just a couple more steps, I promise" he replied, knowing that they still had a long way to go. A few hours earlier they had encountered some hunters. Fortunately for them, they didn't seem to have noticed their presences.

"Well, that doesn't sound so convincing you know" she complained, throwing her head back with a grunt, gaining a sigh from him- You are being way to skeptical Joel, we are gonna be fine- she said looking at him this time, waiting for a "You're so right Ellie, how didn't I listened to you before, let's get some sleep" to fly of his mouth. Not a very Joel thing to say, but something among those words.

"You can ever be to sure" he shortly responded. Ellie opted to say no more, dragging her feet reluctantly behind him, following the road and occasionally glancing at the woods to her right. The moon being the only source of light in the cold starry night. Clearly they were not going to stop until he believed it was a safe place to settle.

The silence did not last long. From the woods they began to hear shouting, which at first scared them. It was someone singing. Joel told Ellie to stay close to him, slowly moving deeper into the woods. They were a little curious as to who was singing at this time of night like crazy. Maybe it was someone deranged who had completely lost their mind. They didn't know, but they did know that they would have to take care of it if they wanted to sleep peacefully and not with one eye open in case this person ended up finding them in the middle of the night.

The surprise they got when they found the person in charge, a girl picking carrots from an orchard, was a rare surprise. They shared an incredulous look, their eyes unable to believe what they were seeing. The girl went on about her business without noticing the two pairs of expectant eyes, singing with an immeasurable passion and stopping to complain about a carrot that didn't want to come out.

"She seems harmeless Joel, look at her" she told him pointing at her with her finger.

"Looks like she has a screw loose to me. Come on".

"That's such an old man thing to say".

Ignoring what he had said earlier, Ellie raised her arms and shouted "Hey you, girl with the weird beanie! Do you think you could give us a hand for tonight?". Flinching at the suddent voice, Amanda raised her head cursing at herself for being so careless. She slowly stand up with two carrots in each of her hands, shaking her head. "No!" she yelled with nervousness, making Ellie frown.

"Come on men, we are tired! Do you have any idea of how much we have been walk- "

"Okay, that's enough" grabbing her by her arm, Joel yanked her to the woods, having to stop due to the girl resisting "She doesn't want to help us Ellie, she doesn't have too either".

"Kinda has to now" she contradicted him "She was the one singing loudly that brought us here, besides look at that big ass house she got there! You're gonna tell me she ain't got space for us two?" she said the last thing more directed to Amanda "It's pretty late we just want to sleep, we ain't bad guys".

Amanda couldn't help but feel slightly guilty. The man wasn't wrong, she didn't have to help them, but because of her not keeping her stupid mouth shout she end up putting herself in this situation, so now she had to deal with it. What if she didn't help them and they end up dying? She couldn't do that. But what if they weren't good people? What if they killed her? Hell, she didn't fucking know them! And she really wanted to sleep with a clear conscience.

Frustration started to build up, and before Joel could even say something, she yelled "Fine! But if you two try something I... I" she failed to threaten, feeling dumb for trying to sound intimidating with a pointing carrot at their direction "Just don't try anything, I'm trying to do something nice, so don't make me regreat it" dropping the carrots to the floor, Amanda started walking to the door fence "Over here".

Ellie looked at Joel with a triumphant smile. Without much effort she had managed to persuade the yet girl of unknown name, getting them a roof over their heads for tonight . Following the girl’s instructions, they went through the fence, now facing each other.

"Hi, I'm Amanda" she presented herself, feeling uncomfortable with their eyes buried in her.

"I'm Ellie"  the redhead continued, expecting the man besider her to tell his, but he seem hesitant, causing her to roll her eyes "And he's Joel. Not a very talkative guy".

"Great, Ellie, Joel, would you like to come inside and have dinner? I was about to make it but I forgot the carrots and um you know this happend" she explained while moving her hands.

Ellie laughed, adding to the conversation "Yeah we know, what was it that you were singing?" at the question, Amanda couldn't help but feel quite embarrassed, they just had to be there at that precise moment? She was going to answer her, but Joel beat her to it.

"Space Oddity by David Bowie".

"Exactly".

"And that was?"

"Are you for real? He was a fucking icon! The best of the best! At least that's what my dad used to tell me all the time" as they spoke, they began to walk, heading to Amanda's house, the older one following them from behind. Joel's eyes darted everywhere, fearing that someone would jump out and attack them, although Amanda seemed nice, or maybe she was good at pretending "He didn't follow what at the time society expected from people, he challenged everything and cared little about what others may say. Everything he touched, he turned it into art. My dad got to see him performance, and he told me that his mere presence on stage was simply indescribable" Ellie listened attentively to every word that came out of her mouth, finding what she said interesting and wanting to learn more. She decided to not make questions about her dad. She imagined what she could say to her if she were to ask.

"That must have been fucking awesome! I wish I had the opportunity to hear artists performance in live" Ellie exclaimed content, turning to her left "Ever went to a concert Joel?".

"That was more of a Tommy thing to do" said sincerely, waiting for Amanda to open the door "Is there more people with you?"

"I've been on my own for a while now".

"Oh" that's all Ellie said to her, feeling stupid afterwards. Amanda gave her a small grin.

Before they entered, Amanda asked them kindly if they could take off their shoes "I got a serious problem with keeping things clean, sorry" she apologized, moving to a side to turn the lights, surprising the other two.

"You have electricity? How is that possible?" Amanda smiled at Joel’s questions.

"A little further back from home there’s plenty of wind towers. It's a pretty unpopulated place because of that, it has always been" she replied, crossing her arms behind her back, swinging back and forth.

"And how do you keep it working?" asked Ellie this time.

"I got not idea, it just does. My dad was the one in charge of that. Never explained it further because he said I didn't need to understand. In some point it's gonna stop working, I guess" she said, getting lost in thought, which didn’t go unnoticed by Joel "Anyways, I have to finish cooking dinner, meanwhile you guys could take a shower" seeming to have realized the double connotation of her sentence, she quickly said "Not because I think you guys smell, it's just because, I mean.. there's hot water!"

Ellie failed to contain her laugh, letting some chuckles escape, while Joel couldn't hide his smile.

"We know we smell, believe me. I'm gonna shower first. I haven't showered with hot water in like, forever!" following Amanda's directions and accepting a borrowed towel and clothes, Ellie went into the bathroom, leaving her and Joel on their own.

"I do not want to overstep, but" Amanda interrumped him before he could even finish.

"He died a few months ago, I think it's been five months by now, but I'm not really sure" she knew she was relying way too much on these two, but she decided to trust her senses, that until now, with her few years of life, had never failed her" Joel felt sorry for her, and Amanda hated it "I got so lost talking about David Bowie that I totally forgot to grab the carrots, would you mind boiling the water? I already put the water in the pot. The lighter is on top of the microwave".

"Alright".

"Great, we are eating some smashed potatoes and carrots tonight ".

After doing what he was told to, Joel took the time to appreciate every detail that adorned the house.All of the furniture was made of wood, mostly with antique lamps above them. Large pinturesque paintings hung on some walls, every one of them belonging to a same style. They shared the same signature "Fiona Wesley". There were also dried flowers upside down on some of the tiles in the kitchen, but what caught his total attention were the pictures on the fridge. He couldn't help but let thoughts of Sarah flood on his mind.

---

"God, it's been so long since I've had a proper meal" commented Ellie, happy with Amanda's cooking "You are so good. You don't know what it's like to have to eat Joel's cooking, he burns everything!" Joel gave her a dirty look, feeling offended.

"Thank you very much, it's not a such a big deal honestly".

"She's right, it's pretty good".

"Well... thanks" not used to receiving compliments, Amanda did what she does best, change the subject. "So...if you don't mind me asking, where were you heading to?."

Ellie looked at Joel to see if it was okay to be honest with her. He nodded.

"We are looking for Joel's brother, Tommy. We think he's in Wyoming."

"Shit, that's a long way from here, more if it's by foot. You're going to need plenty of food and coats, I should give you some."

"You helped us enough, it's not necessary" Joel denied, feeling that he was abusing her kindness.

"Don't worry Joel, it doesn't bother me. It would actually make me feel better if you took something for the trip. It's hard to get food with the weather like this, you rarely spot animals to hunt. It would be nice if you carried a couple of rations. Take it as what you guys owe me for letting you spend the night here"- she told him smiling, hoping he wouldn't deny her offer. "So, don't you want me to make up your beds? For what you guys have told me, you got a long way from here to Wyoming".

"Alright, but then let us raise the table in the meantime" Joel offered in vain, since Amanda wouldn't let them do anything.

"I will do it later, not big deal. Come with me guys, I'll show you your room" Joel and Ellie shared a glance, and then followed in the footsteps of the black haired girl.

---

"It was released on 11 of july in of 1969, five days before Apollo 11 set off to compleat his mission and land the first man on the moon, isn't that cool?".

"That's actually so fucking cool. Where did you learn that from?".

Once they got to the guest room, Amanda and Ellie couldn't seem to stop bringing up topics. They got along well, being able to talk easily with each other. Joel was already lying down, finding it harder and harder to keep his eyes open. He listened carefully to what the girls were saying. He didn't want to interrupt them, no matter how sleepy he was. Both Ellie and Amanda needed it. Especially the last one, who looked like she hadn't spoken to someone in a long time. Tomorrow they would be going their separate ways, so he thought that he should at least let them enjoy each other's presence while they could.

"I read a book called 'Artists you should know before you die'. I found it in the shelf over Joel's head, it's the one over there" she pointed, moving closer to Ellie, making her nervous "It has some interesting facts, this one was there".

"Do you know who Sally Ride is?" Ellie couldn't resist but asker her, wanting to talk about her. Sally ride was one of her biggest idols, and the idea that maybe Amanda and her shared the same admiration towards her, was exciting for her.

"Hello? How could I not? She was the first American female austronaut to go into space!".

"Finally somebody that knows what I'm talking ab-" snoring echoed off the four walls of the room, loud snoring. The girls laughed, turning to look.

"Well, it looks like we talked too much and bored Joel" whispered Amanda, slowly getting up. It felt good to have someone her own age to talk to. Ellie felt the same way, disappointed that she had to leave by the morning. She wished she could stay for a few more days with her and get to know her even better, but she had to make it to the fireflies if she didn't want all the losses to be in vain.

"Yes, we bored him quite a bit" she answered quietly, looking at his sleeping figure "He has been sleeping less than he should, he refuses to let his guard down."

"I understand" looking up from her feet, the black haired girl said with a sigh "You should rest too".

"Yeah I probably should".

"Goodnight Ellie."

"Goodnight."

[eriexplosion]

Oof; you're getting the Thermian Argument thrown at you left and right, huh?

My faith in the writers has increased over the course of two-and-something seasons, so I'm hoping they manage to stick the landing with the back half of s3; that's all I can really say until we get it. Looking at the remaining episodes, d'you have a notion of when/where Tech may show up? (I figure it won't be before episode s3e9, and might even be later).

I do think there's a place for in-universe arguments, but for the most part it's when actually discussing why things happen in universe - why did character make this choice and not that choice, etc. It's a separate thing from trying to discuss how the narrative itself seems to be handling something and why. I know death of the author is popular and all but while the media is still going, trying to figure out the authors intent is pretty important to base your predictions off of. Otherwise you're just picking what you want to happen and working backwards from there. I won't lie, I did start out wanting Tech to have survived, but I was still looking at it from multiple angles and willing to change my opinion, I just never found anything super compelling that outweighs the Alive evidence.

As for where Tech might come in... I do think season 3 episode 9 is a big possibility for a few reasons.

Obviously it's where we cut the reviewers off, and reportedly (though take it with a grain of salt) episode 8 leaves off on a cliffhanger. This seems like a good opportunity to introduce something big in episode 9.

Wayyyy back when, with Joel Aron's 'if you could only see who was on my screen' tweet, he did specify a midseason episode, which I think would cover anywhere from say 8-10. Any later than that and I wouldn't call it midseason anymore. Given the timing he was clearly teasing Tech, and if Tech doesn't materialize during the midseason range he may end up with twitter people at his house.

Episode 9 actually airs as close to one year after Plan 99 as they could get it (March 29, 2023 VS March 27, 2024) and I wouldn't put so much stock in it except that they have done Important Dates with TBB before (Aired The Return as close to one year after The Outpost as possible, the season starting on the 4 year anniversary of the batch being introduced into TCW) and so it is interesting that it should line up that way.

From a story perspective, I think that waiting too much longer than 9 or 10 would make closing the arcs he still has open difficult to do naturally.

I took 3/27 off just in case because either I'll be bemoaning in disappointment or I'll be the most irritating smug bitch on the planet and I can't work under either of those conditions.

[yacinthemorning]

Tailored to Your Liking

Chapter 4

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Summary: Tumble Town attracts all sorts of misfits looking for a fresh start on the frontier, but everyone still needs clothes. Be it extra limbs or high temperatures, Jimmy caters to every hyrbid's needs.

Ships: Jimmy/Tango (slow burn romantic), Grian/Mumbo/Scar (romantic), Joel/Lizzie (romantic)

Warnings: Implied traumatic events, awkward flirting

“Are you sure you cannot stay another few weeks?” Jimmy pleaded. “I’m sure Lizzie would love to have you at her party. We barely got to speak.”

Pearl took her mended clothing with a muttered thank you and handed it to Gem, who was packing all of it away into their bags. “As nice as it is to visit my dear little brothers, our competitors won’t sit around waiting on a good bounty to make it fair. Besides, pretty soon we’ll be leeching off Grian if we stick around.”

It was a lie, and they both knew it. Stashed away in some labyrinthian caves in the desert was likely more hard cash than even Grian had in the bank and tied up in investments combined. Unless she retired, however, it went unspoken. Hopefully retired, at least.

In any case, it had cooled down enough from the heat wave for her to wear her favourite dark blue duster, now hemmed an inch shorter and sporting new buttons. With her wide-brimmed hat and large boots, she looked like a true gunslinger. All the more terrifying when she would circle overhead like a vulture, as Gem enjoyed bragging.

“Well, stop by the sheriff’s office before you leave, then. I’m sure False has a bounty or two for folks who ran off into the desert.” Grian said. “Heavens knows no one else comes this way to pick them up.”

With a grin and a yank at something sticking out of her satchel Gem happily informed them, “Oh, we know. Already taken care of!” The poster was worn from age, damaged and sun bleached, leaving the name ‘Orion’ almost illegible. It was a young man, looking absolutely ridiculous in a theatre costume, with the sort of smile a kid wore before pulling his sister’s pigtails. There was a moderate bounty of 100 diamonds, alive, listed. Scamming and conman activities were the man’s only crimes. If that was the bar these days, then Scar should have been arrested years ago.

Actually, he simply should have been arrested years ago, period.

But Jimmy put that thought aside for now. At that moment Gem and Pearl were locking up their luggage to take out to the horses. Tango waited outside with the beasts, patting down their snouts. His tail danced behind him whenever they nudged into his palm.

A smile crept up onto Jimmy’s face as he approached. “Keeping them company? Or just avoiding luggage?”

“Do you need help?” Tango quickly jumped to attention. It was a curious habit of his, making himself as available as possible. If Jimmy had to guess, it was to do with those awful mines. 

Wherever it originated, he wasn’t about to entertain it. “Not at all. I was just wondering where you ran off to.”

“Oh, well, I figured you’d all be wanting a last moment with the family.” Shrugged the blazeborn, shrinking in on himself.

Pearl let out a squawk, a warning that whatever she was about it say, Jimmy would be the one to regret it. “Well what, are you saying you’re not part of the flock? You got your talons in Jim’s feathers, I figured.”

“Pearl!” Jimmy shrieked, turning beet red. Why was he always right?

Tango gave a lopsided grin in reply. “Not yet, ma’am. That job’s still a work in progress.”

“Tango!”

“Well, when you get around to making this silly man less lonely, do be sure to send a letter.” Her eyes softened.

After her words Jimmy tuned out the rest of the stressful conversation until it came to an end. Bags packed and brothers humiliated, Pearl leapt up onto her steed and waved them off. “We’ll be back for the holidays, I reckon. Good luck and good bye!” She said, backed by a giggle and wave from Gem.

It was silent as they watched the two women ride off into the scrublands, until Grian squawked with a pout. “Good riddance! If she’d stayed any longer then I’d be the one on a bounty poster.”

Jimmy rolled his eyes, patting his brother’s shoulder. “Well, you have a good day doing whatever it is you do to wring money from the poor, I have to finish the mayor’s dress.”

A colourful wing flitted through the air by Jimmy’s head. “Off back to your burrow with you, then.”

“Y’both so dramatic.” Sighed Mumbo behind his parasol, to which he received a pair of indignant squawks. 

 -

“Your family really are theatrical.”

Jimmy pursed his lips, not looking up from the sewing machine. Though it’d been several days he was still getting used to the contraption. Most unfortunately, since it was homemade it lacked a manual, and Tango had a talent for explaining everything in too much detail to where Jimmy understood little of it. Still, the gift was a godsend, allowing him to finish the most tedious work that would take hours within minutes. “Why do you say that?” Jimmy asked while he finished lining a pocket.

Tango rocked back until his hair rested against the desk. What had he been working on again? An aether clock? “You don’t make many chirps or tweets around town, but whenever you’re together it’s like a morning chorus.”

“Well, apologies.” He huffed. A bit pointedly he set the pocket aside.

“I don’t mean it like that.” Tango attempted to backpedal. It wouldn’t work on Jimmy, and he should know better. “It’s cute.” He gave a sharp-toothed grin, eyes narrowed with honest affection.

Okay, so perhaps it worked a little.

Jimmy kept his eyes away, rummaging through his button drawer. “Of course when speaking with other avians we would communicate in our own way. Do you not do so with other blazeborn?”

“There aren’t any other netherborn in Tumble Town.”

Right. There were at most three hundred folks, including the miners, of course there were no other netherborn. If there was, Jimmy would not be in the predicament that led to Tango remaining with him to begin with.

“I’m sorry.” He quickly stuttered, to which Tango waved him off.

“It’s not a big deal, I didn’t know many other blazeborn even back in the Nether.”

Swallowing his guilt to make room for curiosity, Jimmy asked. “Do you not have a flock? Even back across the way?”

Hackles rose, figuratively and literally, and the air became a bit tense. There was an unspoken law among the cowboys and frontiersmen. Never follow a man’s steps in the sands, backwards or forwards . They were all reborn when they first walked into Main Street.

Yet Jimmy couldn’t help himself. It is, perhaps, that he was not quite cut out for frontier life like Pearl or Fwhip, who took full advantage of its lifestyle. He was simply a mediocre tailor with a bad habit of sticking his nose where it likely didn’t belong. Instead, he toyed with the button in his hand, waiting to be told to mind his business.

Tango shuffled, contemplating the question, Or, more likely, contemplating if he would bother to answer. It was just as Jimmy was preparing to apologize and change the subject that Tango spoke up. “I never had a pyre before. Only here, only Impulse, Zed, and… uh, you?” He muttered the last bit uncertainly, eyeing the avian for permission to speak the words.

Jimmy nodded, though his cheeks darkened. Out of the corner of his eye Tango’s tail flicked out, glowing just a bit brighter.

“Yeah.” Tango sniffed. “I guess it’s part o’ why I’m here. Land of opportunities and all that. Hard to get anywhere on your own everywhere, though, I guess.” 

Warmed button still in hand, Jimmy palmed his cheek and rested his elbow on the desk, examining his companion. A shiver ran through his wings, feathers fluffing. “I suppose it’s because we’re not meant to be alone.”  He mused with a smile.

He got a raised eyebrow and snorted in return, though a smile did form as well. “I like that idea a lot better than the one I had…”

“There can be multiple truths.”

“I suppose… What about you, Sunshine?” Tango’s head swivelled towards the windows where sunset was beginning to pour through.

“What about me? You’ve met my siblings.”

“Is that all, though?”

“Mmm…” Jimmy lulled his head into his hand. “We flew the coop, so to speak, and so ‘before’ no longer matters. Sheriff False is certainly flock. I’m not particularly close with her, but Grian and Pearl say she is.”

“So, it’s a group decision?” Curiosity danced in Tango’s eyes.

“Yes. There’s flock, and then there’s nests within the flock.” Though, in his case, he only had a flock. Unlike his brother, who was making a collection of watery-eyed strays doing their best to run his coffers dry, Jimmy was just fine on his own. So much for the dependable eldest and bumbling youngest.

Tango hummed, “I see.” A soft breeze rattled the windows, drawing attention to the darkened twilight. Something seemed on Tango’s mind with no intent to share. Instead, he turned a sheepish smile on Jimmy. “Pyre’s not quite the same. It’s a personal affair.”

Jimmy nodded absently, still searching for an answer. “Most hybrids’ terms differ greatly in meaning. Mayor Lizzie would be no mayor if not for such a misunderstanding.”

“What?” A laugh burst from Tango.

Jimmy joined him. “I suppose you weren’t here when it happened. She became mayor not long after her arrival. There was none before her. We’re such a small community. She was quite friendly, supportive, curious to learn about everyone. We thought ‘ Oh, how welcoming, despite being the one who is new, treating everyone with such investment. Surely, she’s a natural born leader.’ ”

Tango seemed barely able to contain his amusement. “Mhm?”

“What a bunch of landfolk in the scrubs didn’t know was that, in fact, a school is much less intimate than a flock or a pyre. A woman who was simply scouting out her new school became confused for a campaign from a very respectable candidate and, well… the next month we had a mayoral office.”

“Amazing.” He let out a short wheeze, shaking his head. “Only out here.” The sparks of amusement in his hair were the only thing which lit the desk now.

“Indeed. Though, she has done a splendid job for the most part.” Jimmy sighed and stood up. As he flipped the sign on the door and closed the shutters Tango pulled out a lamp. One of his many homemade projects, a simple twist of a nob had redstone spark the glowstone within. Not a personal invention, much like the sewing machine, but a luxury universal only to the coast. Only a few lamps in Jimmy’s house had yet to be converted, and he couldn’t deny the convenience.

Convenient. There was the word he might use to describe his life recently, ever since they met. Chores were done quicker, work was easier. Jimmy refused to take money from Tango, but he found loopholes around it by paying for groceries and things such as the lamps.

It flickered, casting light enough that they could easily continue work. A month ago, he would have been ecstatic to do just that. “How did the stew look?” He absently asked instead.

“Ready whenever we are.” Tango replied, picking the lamp up. It seemed almost dull placed next to his inviting smile.

His eyebrow rose and long claws reached out towards Jimmy. They poked at his cheek and a pressure he had not noticed released. Held up to the light was a small button. “You’re starting to become your clothes.” He teased.

A quiet trill vibrated in Jimmy’s throat, “I suppose that means I should stop for tonight, then.”

“I suppose so.”

 -

Curtains pulled back, and out walked Lizzie. Silks shimmering between violet and azure draped over her petticoat, bundled to meet an as-of-yet undecorated neckline. Despite its incompleteness it flattered her figure to perfection. Pride swelled in Jimmy’s chest. Beside him, Tango let out a low whistle, while at his other side Joel had an expression as if it was the first time he’d laid eyes on her all over again. The mayor let out a shy giggle, spinning slowly to let the watery silk flow around her with the long fins of her tail.

“Oh, Jimmy, it looks absolutely wonderful!” She cooed as he approached to adjust a draping. Though it was yards more material than he was used to thanks to her great stature, it made it much easier to see what needed to be done.

His feathers puffed up, nodding vigorously in agreement. “I was terrified how it might come out, but this may be the best piece I’ve made so far.”

“Thank you so, so much for this.”

“Is the neckline low enough? Not too snug?” Jimmy asked, leaning past her shoulder to check the lacing and buttons were in place.

Lizzie shifted, her large tail swaying underneath, its moisture safe from the sun and unabsorbed by the ocean silk. Gills flexed along her neck and chest as a test. “I don’t believe so, no. All gills accounted for.”

A hand smacked into Jimmy’s shoulder, nearly knocking him over. Tango snickered. “Relax, Jimmy, you did amazing! You’re gonna put a kink in your neck if you don’t slow down.”

“Oh, he’s just a proud little birdie.” Lizzie joined in on the teasing, cupping Jimmy’s face to give it a small shake. The small down running across the crest of his cheek flared to avoid her hands’ beaded webbing. If a childish whine left him then he would deny it. 

He stepped back to survey his work one more time. Joel approached to whisper something to his wife which made her expression soften. Delicately she bent down to give her husband a peck, first on his forehead, then lips, and whispered something back. If Jimmy strained his ears forward he could have easily captured their words, but he kept his feathers rested. Something warm strained at his chest forcing even his gaze away.

The fitting continued. Conversation devolved from work into gossip as soon as Joel had made the mistake of mentioning the young shepherd at the other end of town and the proclaimed medium she had living on her property.

“Katherine swears by her seances, she says she spoke to her grandmother!” Lizzie insisted, making a wide arm gesture that nearly tore the fabric out of Jimmy’s hand.

Joel seemed less amused, shaking his head. “All that occult nonsense is just a con, no more reliable than Scar’s cure-alls.”

Hurt and betrayed, she turned to Jimmy with a plea for support. His wings twitched uncomfortably, and he kept his eyes on his adjustment work instead. “I suppose… If it hurts no one, it’s harmless either way.”

“It sounds like fun!” Tango interjected. To Jimmy’s surprise, there was a bright spark of fascination in his eyes. It received a pleased tail slap from Lizzie, which caught the hem of her dress and pulled a bit too roughly. He needed to shorten it just a bit further, it seemed.

“I took you for a man of science, Tango, not faith and spirits.” Joel vocalized for them both.

The blazeborn shrugged. “Well, if spirits exist, then what’s more scientific than contacting and speaking to them yourself? And besides, what’s science matter to a bit of fun?”

Lizzie let out a pleased, bubbly sound, looking between the three men. “Oh, yes! You understand perfectly! Joel, we should meet with Katherine and ask her to host a seance for us. We could speak to my father!”

“Yes, dear.” His words came out exasperated, but an amused smile rested on his face. Once again, he focused down on his work instead. His wings twitched in agitation at the completed draping rumpled by his talon. The work had been done a while ago.

“… Jimmy?” 

“Hm?” His head shot up, looking with Tango’s gaze, wrinkled in the corners by amusement.

“Would you like to go with them?” He repeated, presumably.

Jimmy’s wings tighten around his shoulders. “Oh, I don’t really have anyone to contact.”

“I don’t think you need to.” Tango’s tail curled, expression wilting into something softer. “If it’s not interesting to you, though-”

“No, we can go.” He assured. “It… may be fun.”

“Splendid!” Lizzie clapped, beaming. “We’ll set up the seance and tell you the date on our way back. I can’t wait!”

 -

“Are you sure you want to go?” Tango asked once their customers left. “We don’t have to if you’re not interested.”

Jimmy was in the middle of carefully placing Lizzie’s dress back upon the mannequin, stopping to lock eyes with the other man so he might be assured. “I have nothing against going. If it would be fun for you, then we should.”

He shook his head, fiddling with the cuff of his work shirt. “You don’t have to go just for my sake.”

“No, that’s…” Jimmy’s voice wandered away with his thoughts. Recollections of earlier, of the whispers and fond gazes. “I enjoy you enjoying yourself.” He finally said, becoming a bit pink from his fumbled words.

A darkness dusted over Tango’s cheeks as well, but it disappeared under one of his radiant smiles. “I do, too. Enjoy you enjoying yourself.” He whispered back. Jimmy was unsure if he was intended to hear it, but he had, and it wreaked further havoc on the warmth in his chest.

“We should get back to work.” He stuttered, rushing his pace back to his desk, hoping there was something he needed from it that would distract him. Anything, besides confronting the fond gaze he could feel on his back.

[siriannatan]

yet ANOTHER 'fWhip can't take care of himself and refuses to rest' - ScottfWhipJimmy

You guys said you wanted this so I wrote it :} (I might have been watching Martyn's vault hunters streams as background noise...)

Jimmy's favourite part of the emperor's meets at Grimlands was when he could leave and no longer listen to Joel complain about how the count was dressed. Mostly that it did not suit a noble, not to say an emperor with the Crown. Who cared if fWhip lived his life in dusty and muddy, too-big-for-him coats and falling-apart scarves? Jimmy certainly didn't, especially since the whole conflict between them has ended.

"I think I left my notes," he sighed to Lizzie, Joel and Scott. 

"I'll wait here," the elf said, already leaning against a wall. They did have a meeting scheduled to talk about some stuff - mostly so Scott could have a break from his brother and advisors.

Since Lizzie and Joel had their own things to get back so they left - Lizzie did threaten Scott to make sure Jimmy was not hurt. Not that many things could hurt an eight feet tall demigod who could at will strike all his problems with thunder. And so Jimmy hurried back to the meeting room.

To his shock fWhip was still there. Jimmy expected he went to discuss some WRA business but he was just slumped in his chair. "Sorry, I forgot my..." Jimmy started to apologise, just in case fWhip was actually doing something important, but froze when the Lord Emperor... snored and shifted a bit. 

Was he really asleep or messing with Jimmy? When would he fall asleep even? The meeting ended barely like five minutes ago. And now that Jimmy was thinking about it fWhip did look a bit tired and even yawned a few times. But to fall asleep this fast? He must have been exhausted. And... maybe looked a bit cute all wrapped in his coat, scarf and draconic wings with his mouth slightly open. But no matter how cute he looked or how comfy the chairs in the meeting hall were it was probably not the best spot for a nap.

He did have Scott waiting for him but there was no way he was leaving fWhip like this. So after grabbing his papers and shoving them into his bag Jimmy gently shook fWhip. "fWhip? Don't you have a bed somewhere?" he asked just quiet enough so anyone walking past the room wouldn't - hopefully- hear him, and shook the half-dragon. 

Nothing so plan B it was - calling Scott so he was not annoyed he had to wait and explaining the situation to him. 

Scott was quickly back in the meeting room and sighed as soon as he saw fWhip. "He's overworking himself again," he said and poked fWhip. Not even his cold hands could wake the slumbering dragon. "I found him like this a few times back when Rivendell was in the WRA," he explained. "He'll overwork himself and then sleep in the most random places. Like the top of his workbench and then pretend he's fine. We definitely should move him somewhere more comfortable."

Luckily they were literally inside fWhip's manor so all they had to do was find a bed. Any bed. And put fWhip in it. All while avoiding any staff and guards so they would not alert fWhip's siblings and allies. They wanted to put him somewhere comfortable. Not start a war. Luckily they didn't have to wander too much and there wasn't that much staff in the manor. Maybe because of the meeting? 

"I think it might be fWhip's bedroom," Scott hummed looking about as Jimmy set the sleeping count on the bed. "Looks like no one slept here in a while," he explained but Jimmy had a different problem.

"Scott? He's not letting go of me..." Jimmy whispered, at this point afraid to wake fWhip up. And got pulled even closer as fWhip mumbled something in his sleep. Low and growly but illegible. "Scott? Help... please..."

"How exactly am I supposed to help? I'm sure you're strong enough to break out," Scott chuckled. "And it's nice to see you two not arguing without Gem and Lizzie around," he added and sat on the bed.

It was a mistake as fWhip's arm which was not holding Jimmy hostage for fear of breaking the count's limbs, grabbed his long braid and pulled him into the hug. Mumbling something just for a second and shifting with an annoyed half-growl until he was comfy enough between too shocked to resist Scott and Jimmy.

"I think we're stuck here," Jimmy whispered, giving up and cuddling fWhip. He was not fighting long, covered in deep dark red scales tail wrapped around his leg. Scott sighed and said nothing but also gave up to the tight grip the living furnace that fWhip was, had on him. It was quite a pleasant change from the constant chill his affinity for ice magic came with.

*several hours later*

fWhip had no recollection of ever leaving the quickly tossed together by his staff meeting room and going to bed. Or Scott and Jimmy ever joining him as pleasant as it was to be stuck between them despite Jimmy's sharp scales and how cold Scott always was. His dragon part was happy and it took him a second to register that he was purring. Not something he did often, growling at annoying people was a more common presentation of his dragon instincts.

"Had a nice nap, sunflower?" Scott hummed, shifting a bit but not pulling away. "You're purring..."

"It's cute," Jimmy yawned from behind fWhip pulling both of them to himself. "Morning, firecracker."

fWhip could only hum as his dragon brain melted in all the affection. Dragons were as he discovered shockingly clingy and cuddly which made his day-to-day life a bit miserable as it made him constantly touch-starved. It was so bad he wasn't even questioning why Jimmy and Scott were in his bed anymore. Just hoping they'd stay a bit longer.

[forensicated]

Smiffina Episodes: Witness Part 8 - The Final Act (8/8)

Tony and Emma rush to the scene to find Smithy's car on its side and call for help. In the middle of it, Smithy comes round and in a nice character decision, Smithy's flight or fight response is clearly fight and he almost wallops Tony until he realises that it's friend not foe.

More with it after a few seconds, Smithy joins Tony and they manage to get the other two out of the car and away from the wreckage.

Reg and Beth are still pinned down by an attack on the mobile unit. Reg reports that they're getting bottles thrown at them now and as he does - a shot is fired at the window that luckily does not get through. A trojan unit and back up are on the way to them.

Heaton heads back to the station and asks Grace to delay Alesha giving evidence whilst they're being checked over and calming down. Smithy suggests an adjournment and Heaton asks Gina to check if possible and she rings Grace to ask her to ask. Sam starts looking into the car that ran Smithy off the road and checks for CCTV. Sunil plays down Grace's report that Smithy being run off the road is linked to the case, insisting it's a road traffic incident. Grace tells the judge Alesha was attacked to stop her giving evidence and not for the first time. Sunil pretty much rolls his eyes and says it's an unfounded allegation and that it can't be that bad as she's not in hospital. The judge asks if there's any injuries and Grace said she hasn't heard of any yet. Sunil claims if they take any further time to call Alesha then it just adds to the feeling of mystery and drama around her. The judge agrees and refuses to adjourn any longer than that afternoon. Alesha must attend - today.

Youths attempt to set fire to the car that was used in the attack on Smithy's police car in the middle of the Jasmine Allen. Beth, Will and others attend and are pelted with bricks and other debris including Will who gets a ball bearing to the stomach from a catapult and another officers trousers catch fire from a petrol bomb thrown.

Jo and Terry are sent to report intelligence on the scene, taking residence on a roof of a tower block nearby. Cars are being removed from the carpark and used to build a barricade at one end whilst others are breaking into a shop next to it. They suspect it's a Creekside Boys event rather than the residents getting involved.

Smithy and Alesha identify Spencer Wright - who he had a run in recently when looking for Oscar and Joel, as the driver of the car who drove them off the road from CCTV. Alesha promises Smithy she's strong enough to stand up to 'that idiot' if she can stand up to Tito and she'll give evidence against him too when it comes to trial. "Good." Smithy smiles at her, telling her it's time for court.

Heaton runs a briefing with the remaining uniform at the station to tell them what is happening on the Jasmine Allen. Heaton wants to disappoint them and not give them the head on collision that they want but to monitor and arrest from the backstreets as so far it's only the police who seem the targets, not the residents themselves. The stop and wait strategy is a nonstarter - they attack the van as soon as officers arrive - it's now a full scale riot and Nate is allowed to go back out to play with the big girls and boys after being station bound from the attack-that-never-was on Raheem Woods.

Three identical cars arrive in convoy at the court, using the side doors to get Alesha inside safely. She wants to give her evidence face to face, not hide behind a screen or use video monitors. Julian reassures her that all she has to do is stick to the truth, even admitting the lies about the alibi and why - and to stay calm.

Alesha takes her time and keeps calm as she faces Fox and explains why she lied - because she was scared what they'd do to her, she was scared of being blamed and was threatened. She came forward because Carly was her friend.

On the estate, van loads of officers arrive in riot gear to take control and arrest the trouble makers. They are pelted with all manner of items including bricks and a fire is burning too. Heaton reckons there's two groups present - the criminal Creekside element and the local youths out for a jolly (!). He thinks if they remove the criminal element then it'll stop the others and they'll regain control. There are two large groups of rioters and so Heaton arranges two arrest teams to keep them seperate and to remove the trouble makers.

Sunil comes at Alesha to call her a proven liar who changes her story as she pleases. Alesha hits back to insist there's only two versions and she explained why. Sunil claims she saw Tito dancing with another woman at the party and got upset and jealous and they argued and that is why she's accusing him of being in the car and shooting Carly. He claims they also argued in a McDonalds - and he has witnesses he can call - about it to. Alesha admits they argued but it was about him making her hide a gun. Not a jealousy row. Sunil paints a picture of Tito trying to get out of an mentally abusive relationship, beaten down by her constant jealousy and accusations of him cheating on her if he so much as looked at another woman. Alesha denies it all and Sunil asks "Not true? Or just not true today?" "He needed me to lie, thats why we argued."

Smithy wonders why Dwayne hasn't pleaded guilty like Joel did when they're both accomplices. He says he's going to go speak to him and ask why. Grace tells him not to because they've already accused him of breaking the rules and that it'll play into their hands. He still goes through. Smithy asks Dwayne if he's going to let one stupid decision to back Tito up take the rest of his life as he knows Tito shot Carly and so does Dwayne. [How? Two hands came out of the window. Two guns shot bullets. How can he know which got Carly and either way - he still shot a gun!] Smithy asks him what he's scared of. Creekside? Tito? Dwayne shouts for security to come through and Smithy has to leave the cell.

The riot has increased to 100 at least and they're throwing petrol bombs. Heaton wants Raheem and the other leaders arrested ASAP with the TSG. They advance in a line and split to allow TSG through to get to Woods and others. In doing so, Nate gets kidnapped and carried off by Raheem and others who beat him. Smithy arrives as court has adjourned until Tito and Dwayne have to give evidence so he's arrived to help having heard about Nate. Callum and Smithy take three other men and go into underground carpark to go and get him back. Of course Smithy's going in in just his uniform and a helmet. Of course he is!

In rescuing Nate, Smithy disarms and arrests Raheem Woods and Callum has Spencer Wright - not a bad 5 minutes work. "You alright Nate?" "Peachy Sarge, love a good beating." "Yeah, heard that about you."

At the station, Woods claims to Sam and Smithy he was only there to calm things down. When told there's surveillance of him trying to set a Honda alight he insists it's not him. Smithy and Sam then go to interview Spencer and tell him that Raheem claims it's all down to him because 'he went lone ranger'. Spencer insists he's not in Creekside by choice, he's there as protection. Smithy says he doesn't care either way - all they want to know is why Creekside are so wrapped up in stopping Carly's case. He either tells them or takes the entire attempted murder of Smithy and Alesha rap all by himself.

Spencer tells them that Tito rang him from remand and wanted to an eye kept on Alesha. She wasn't down to appear as a witness so he wanted it to stay that way. It was him who spray painted the house and smashed the window. He claims that since Marlon got arrested there's a huge power vacuum on the Jasmine Allen and that Creekside are backing Tito so he has to keep them sweet as they want control over the estate. The officers don't buy it - there'd still be that vacuum if Tito went down. "What does he know, Spencer? Why do Creekside want to keep Tito sweet?" Spencer tells them - reluctantly - that Tito got the guns from Woods. They find there's a third gun out there - an automatic "that Tito loves and favours everytime." If Tito did have the automatic gun in the car, it wasn't him who shot Carly. It was Dwayne.

Woods insists he's has nothing to do with any guns and that Spencer is lying. Smithy isn't deterred and works out it makes sense that Creekside got involved because with Marlon out the way they get the estate... but they didn't get Marlon, it was Carly. Sam says Creekside's involvement in supplying the guns explains the attempt to stop Alesha getting to court. With Smithy in the car as well it makes it attempted murder of a police officer as well as Alesha. Smithy asks if he knows Dwayne or why Tito took Dwayne on the night of the shooting. Woods no comments every question. Sam ends the interview and - with the tape recorder off - Woods starts talking, as long as they keep it off. Tito took Dwayne because he was pushing him 'You gonna let that joker make a fool of you? You gonna stand for that?' etc. They only worked together because they had a united reason - Marlon. They both hated him and wanted him gone. Dwayne hated him because Carly was going to leave for Sheffield and she'd told him that she was leaving with Brooke. They'd had a huge argument about it. She wrote a letter explaining it to him saying if he didn't pay her child support, he didn't deserve to see Brooke and that made him even angrier. Brooke was his, money or no money, and no lippy kid was going to tell him different. Woods says he'll also come clean about Nate not hurting him if they make his charge affray rather than violent disorder.

Smithy and Sam talk it over. What if Dwayne had engineered it from the start and it was his argument and not Tito? What if it was about Carly and Brooke rather than Tito's assault? Sam isn't so sure but Smithy continues. Carly was moving away and taking his daughter. Whilst she was on the estate he saw as much of Brooke as he wanted to - with her almost 200 miles away that wouldn't be as easy. Sam asks if Smithy is suggesting that Carly was the target all along? Smithy isn't sure if she was the intended target or if it was spur of the moment but he's starting to think that. He's been cunning either way because he told Smithy he didn't know she was leaving and he's hidden behind it being Tito's crime and him just taken along for the ride. Sam agrees and suggests Smithy take Leanne home so they can go through her belongings to see if they can find a letter. Leanne tells him he bought stuff for Brooke but never paid any money for her care and it was a real bone of contention. Leanne admits she would write things down if she had something serious to say. They hurry back to find it her notepad or to see if she kept a copy.

The riot is almost over with less than 20 people hanging around as Leanne returns with Smithy and Heaton. Leanne glares around the group still lingering. "Do you want killers living here? What happened to me can happen to you." She tells them, following Smithy up the stairs to her flat. Smithy finds a notepad and see the word 'Sheffield' as an indentation so they bag it to get it to the lab quickly. Leanne's words seem to have done the trick as the last few lingering around pay them no attention as they leave.

Sunil is summing up the prosecutions evidence and tells the jury that the prosecution is all smoke and mirrors and that they haven't made a case. The police have been accused, there's no real evidence and that the main witness is a liar. If the prosecution have not proven beyond reasonable doubt they must return a verdict of not guilty. Grace and Smithy worry that if he continues like this - as the jury seem to be lapping it up - it might end before they get the lab results back from the letter. If they do... it's too late.

Dwayne is then called to the stand to give his evidence. He claims he doesn't think of the canal as 'the canal' when he was asked, just 'The park' and that if they'd looked harder they'd find pushchair tracks and Brooke's footprints too. Smithy gets a text and goes out to meet Jo who hands him the initial basic report from forensics alongside the relevant bits of Dwayne's statement. He tells Jo it's going badly and she wishes him good luck with the evidence. He writes a note and passes it to the prosecuting barrister with the evidence. Dwayne looks very uneasy when he sees Smithy return and give Leanne, Grace and Heaton a thumbs up.

Ford asks Dwayne if there had been any arguments or conflicts between him and Carly and he says no. He is asked if they'd rowed over access or child support. Again he says no. He admits he gave Carly no money but bought things for Brooke and saw her as often as he could despite being seperated from Carly and that the father-daughter relationship is important to him. He claims he didn't know she was leaving and it was the police who told him after she'd died. Sunil claims that the prosecution is veering off into evidence that isn't in disclosure. Ford tells the judge that new evidence has been found today and both are asked to approach the judge. Dwayne claims if Carly sent him a letter he never saw it or got it. Alesha whispers to Leanne and Smithy that he did because Carly told him. She hadn't told Smithy because she didn't know it was relevant and everyone was focused on it being Tito's fight. Smithy hurries her out into the foyer where they discuss it.

Dwayne tells the court that Brooke is his daughter and no one can take that away from him. Ford pauses. "... But Carly was going to, wasn't she." he said before quoting Carly's words that she was going to take her away where he could never see her. He continues to say that Dwayne goaded Tito into that car and that when he got to the skateboard park he saw everything he was about to lose and got angry. He insists he wasn't in the car. He's asked if he shot Carly. Leanne stands up and shouts "ANSWER HIM!" at Dwayne. The judge orders silence in the gallery or she'll clear it. Dwayne's mother is looking conflicted from the back row. Dwayne still doesn't answer it and is told to step down. Smithy sends another note to Ford to tell him to call Alesha because she knows about the letter. Sunil tries to get the judge to refuse it, insisting she has been sat with police officers and that there's already been a coaching accusation. The judge allows her and says Sunil can cross examine her.

In the dock, Dwayne and Tito are talking and he whispers to Tito "I can't do this anymore, it's killing my mum!" Alesha tells the court that she didn't know what was in the letter and that all along she's thought it was Tito's fight. She does know however that Carly was going to Sheffield because she'd gotten her a job there with her cousin and Carly had told her about the letter and giving it to Dwayne she knew that he was lying. Sunil calls her a liar and that she can't be relied upon to tell the truth and there's too much doubt. Alesha shouts back she's not a liar, she knows the truth and was scared. Dwayne sobs that he can't do it anymore and leaps to his feet. Tito lunges at him and the two are parted. Dwayne wants to change his plea and Tito shouts after him that he's a grass and to keep his mouth shut as they're forced out of the room.

Both men are indited for murder, Tito can fight it but he'd be on a hiding to nothing as the plea change in Dwayne's case means that it's practically impossible and won't change anything - both are going to be put away for murder.

Outside Smithy hugs Alesha and congratulates her. She then hurries to her dad who hugs her and tells him he's so proud of her. Leanne thanks Ford and then Alesha for what they did. Beverley can barely look at her as she leaves court, turning and quietly lowering her head as she walks out. Leanne watches her go as Smithy touches her shoulder and comforts her. Leanne turns and kisses Smithy's cheek and tells him he's a good man. He blushes almost and tries to downplay it as his job. "Being a policeman is your job. Being a good man comes from in here." she says, touching his heart. Smithy almost shyly thanks her and leads her outside, taking her home.

I do have a few questions (like why do I pay attention to stuff that doesn't matter?) like :

Why didn't they mention going looking for the other automatic gun even in passing to get it off the streets? And if they're now saying Tito used the automatic in the car, and Dwayne used the revolver that killed Carly who used the 9mm? Surely that breaks the case somewhat? Or are we to accept they were wrong and Tito didn't take the gun that he favours and thinks of as his and poses with to shoot Marlon? The gun that hearing about made Smithy change his mind to it being Dwayne and not Tito who shot Carly?

What happened to 'Tito being a good boy' that they kept spouting in part 1 who was only with the gang so people didn't hassle him? And if he was such a good boy (even Oscar said it) why didn't anyone re-bring up that his dad threw him out and ask why? Or even go visit his parents?Alesha reckoned he was waiting to get into college. At no point did we see any Tito side that can be 'the good boy', especially funeral onwards. He was a greasy smarmy runt throughout! Having said that though, I'm probably answering my own question when I say that there were four writers for the entire 8 episodes and that each writer wrote two of the episodes.

If the rent scam had been caught out and the muppet who ran it prosecuted then Tito would be homeless. Where was he living after to be still around the estate to the point where he was picked up from his flat where he lived alone during a late night raid? Surely the council wouldn't rehouse him THAT quickly when he'd been scamming one of their properties with a housing list with demand as high as it would be in East London (and lets face it, the area Sun Hill is supposed to be a not that far from the City of London (around Whitechapel/Stepney/Spitalfields/Shadwell! ) and they'd surely not rehouse him right where his (at the time) potential victims mother still lived!

How did Sunil find the McDonalds argument witnesses? And if there were witnesses close enough to say they were arguing, didn't he ask them to attest to what was said to show it wasn't jealous girlfriend stuff? (and why didn't anyone report that guns were mentioned? If they're to back up Tito's false story then it wouldn't take 5 minutes to prove they're linked to Creekside!

Smithy says there were four gunshots. There were 9 at my count!. (not my link - go to 44.49 here there's 2 guns shooting at the same time and one takes an extra one) It doesn't look like one is an automatic either, they both look the same.

Why didn't they mention the intimidation Alesha faced and Smithy getting run off the road on the way to court? Yes Sunil claimed it was unfounded allegation but it could easily be proved, especially as by the time they were in the court room they'd named the suspect and he was a member of Creekside and that it could have been mentioned in that 'oops, strike that from the record...', jury you will ignore that' tropey bollocks crime shows use all the time when they want the jury to know something they're not supposed to!

is it possible to be too anal?

And whilst we're at it...

will the boys EVER stop saying 'Come on then?!' to someone threatening them? Especially when they have weapons in their hands like knives! Looking at you in this episode, Sgt Stone though Smithy is a bugger for it too.

How is Smithy not made of mostly metal now given the amount of bangs to the head/knocks to the body/hostage situations/smacked around/car crashes etc? He's like the terminator.