#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..?

[sassconvict]

Oneshot

Distraction

Masterlist

Joel Miller x F!reader

Summary: Joel offers to help you study but ends up being more of a distraction…

Warnings: This is purely smut, unprotected sex, creampie, fingering, dirty talk

Word count -> 1.7k

You’re sitting sprawled out on Joel’s living room floor, papers scattered all around you, textbooks stacked on each other, and your pencil case empty with its contents filling up more space on the floor.

Joel walks in, but you don’t even notice him; you’ve taken the saying “head in the books” to a whole new meaning and you are fully unaware of anything around you.

He speaks out to you, “Hey baby, how’s the studying going?” He grabs a beer from the fridge while he waits for your response, but it never comes. He then walks over to you and waves his hand in front of your face to get your attention.

“Hello? Are you there?” He says while laughing, and this finally breaks you out of your trance.

You shake your head and reply to him, “Oh hey, when did you get home?” Totally oblivious to the fact he has been trying to talk to you for the past couple of minutes.

He rolls his eyes, “Just a couple of minutes ago, how’s the studying going?”

You look up from your study notes to meet his eyes, “It’s-uhh-it’s going. I just feel like I keep reading over the same things over and over, and it’s just leaving my brain immediately,” you say as you let out a sigh.

“Maybe you should take a break,” Joel says as he walks over and sits on the couch behind you and starts to rub your shoulder.

His touch alone causes a shiver down your spine, and the way his hands work out the knots that have built in your shoulders and neck from hunching over studying all day brings a soft moan out of you.

Joel laughs, “Yeah? Does that feel good? And before you can answer him, he speaks again, “I know it feels good, darling.”

You take your hand and reach back to place it on his.

“It feels so good, babe, but I can’t take a break yet. Need to do a bit more, and then I’ll call it quits for the night, okay?”

“Whatever you say, darlin, want me to help you?” Joel asks you.

His question surprises you a bit and gets a quiet laugh out of you, but Joel can tell by the way your shoulders moved under his hands that you were laughing at the suggestion.

“And what’s so funny about that, huh?” He asks teasingly as he takes his hands from your shoulders, uses them to shove the textbooks and papers sitting beside you, and takes their spot on the ground.

“No-no, it’s not funny,” you try and play it off, but he can tell when you are lying because you let out a little giggle after the words leave your mouth.

He takes his hands and grabs you by the shin to turn your face to his, “You don’t think I would be any help?”

You look into his eyes and place your hand on his thigh, causing his eyes to flicker down to where your hand sits.

“I never said that— I just think that maybe you’d be more of— um— a distraction,” you finally admit to him, and this causes him to scoff and release your chin from his hands.

“Me? A distraction? I don’t think so, darling. Pass me your notes, I’ll quiz you” he offers.

You play into his game and pass him your notebooks, and he begins to ask you questions, but he finds himself having trouble pronouncing some of the words.

“Fuck, my girl is so smart. You know what these all mean?”

“Well, I’m trying, but you stole my notes from me,” you say back with a laugh mixed in.

“Hmm, guess you’re right,” Joel replied before sliding the notebook on the floor over to the other side of the room, “whoops, looks like the notebook is saying it’s time for a break.”

You shake your head and smile at him, “Is that so?”

“Yup.”

You both stare at each other for a moment; you can see the need in his eyes, and finally, he moves towards you and closes the distance. Catching your mouth with his, he kisses you hungrily and slips his tongue into your mouth, which causes a moan to slip out, and you push your tongue against his.

He breaks the kiss and sits back for a second before reaching behind you and moving all of your study material out of the way before coming back and kissing you again. The kiss deepens and he pushes you slightly so that your back is on the floor now. Your legs are spread with him between them, you can feel his hardening cock press against you and your body is on fire and you realize you need him.

It’s like he hears your thoughts because he pushes himself on you, causing friction and gaining a moan from both of you. He continues to push his now very hard cock on you and you can feel how soaked you are just from this.

He moans into your mouth before breaking the kiss and sitting back a bit to look down between you, he notices the wet spot on his jeans from your arousal and he groans and looks back to your face.

“So fucking wet for me huh? Knew you needed a break” he says in a low voice, he sounds so sexy when he’s worked up like this.

“Joel-please” you practically whine at him.

He slowly brings his hands lower, tracing his fingers down your body and stopping right before he reaches where he knows you need him.

“Please what”

“Please touch me-fuck I need you, please Joel”

He hums as his fingers finally touch your aching core, bringing his finger through your folds and collecting your arousal on his fingers before bringing them to his mouth. He looks you in the eyes as he puts his finger with your wetness into his mouth.

“Fuck baby you taste so good, how’d I get so lucky”

He brings his lips back to yours and you can taste yourself on your lips, you then feel his finger make their way back down to your dripping core. You buck your hips trying to get more from him but he shakes his head.

“So fucking impatient, you need me that badly huh”

You don’t reply, just nod and grab the top of his shoulder and pull him closer to you.

He gives in and you can feel his finger push into you and it’s like something ignites in you. Moans start leaving your mouth as he adds his other finger and circles your clit with his thumb.

“So good for me, squeezing my fingers. You’re so fucking tight.”

His words are making you fall apart, and you can feel yourself coming closer and closer to your release.

“Oh baby, you’re so close, come for me please. Wanna feel you come on my fingers”

This sends you completely over the edge; your legs start to shake, and you moan out his name as your orgasm hits its peak.

His fingers don’t slow down; he carries you through your orgasm, and when it almost gets too much, he pulls his fingers out and brings them to his mouth again.

“So fucking sweet, you think you can handle more? I need to fucking feel you, baby.”

You nod rapidly at him and reach for the button and zipper of his jeans.

“So eager,” he says as he pulls off his pants and his boxers before standing up and putting his hand out to you. You take it, and he pulls you off the floor and guides you over into the kitchen, where he pushes you so that your body is bent over the kitchen table before swiping his length through your slick folds before pushing himself inside you.

You immediately let out a moan as he stretches you out, your pussy clenching around him.

“Fuck—feels so good, Joel,” you say before letting out another moan as he pulls out and slams back into you.

“Feel so good wrapped around my cock, baby, could do this for hours.”

One of his hands sits on your waist, while the other is on your lower back, pushing you against the table as he slams into you repeatedly. He curses and moans your name, and this causes you to let out a loud moan. His fast pace is beginning to make your knees shake, but he doesn’t stop. He takes his hand that is on your waist and brings it to your clit, where he starts rubbing circles on it, causing you to push up against his hand on your back, needing him to be closer. He grabs onto your neck and holds you so that your back is pushed against his chest, and he continues to fuck you.

You can feel another orgasm creeping up on you, and he can tell by the way your legs start to give out and your eyes shut tightly. Non-stop moans are leaving your mouth now.

“I can feel how close you are, let go for my baby, I’ve got you.”

A few more thrusts and circles of his thumb on your clit, and you’re sent over the edge. You couldn’t imagine anything feeling better than this does right now. Your pussy is clenching down on his cock as you release on him, and he groans loudly before feeling him twitch inside you, and you know he is about to cum.

“Fill me up, Joel, I need you to cum for me.”

This is all he needed because he plunges deep in you, and you feel his release begin to fill you up. He thrusts a few more times before coming to a stop. His head lays on your shoulder as he catches his breath before pulling out of you.

“Fuck, you’re are going to be the death of me, woman,” he says as he laughs.

And you reply while rolling your eyes, “What about me? I was supposed to be studying. Study break is over.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll be taking another study break soon, darling,” he teases you and winks before coming up to you and placing a kiss on your lips again.

***AN: Okay first Oneshot, sorry if it’s short and feels rushed. Didn’t have a lot of time but wanted to write something 😏

Hope you like it

[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!

[visionsofyouandme]

Don't Dream It's Over

𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜: Joel stumbles upon a dance party between you and his little girl, Sarah.

𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 2.3k

𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜/𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚜: No Outbreak!Joel Miller x F!Reader. Babysitter!Reader. Reader has no physical descriptors. Decent and legal age gap (reader is college age, Joel is in his 30s). Sarah is 6. Plenty of 80s music references. Pining!Joel. Fluff (SO MUCH FLUFF). Dancing AND dance parties. Longing. A little kissing at the end. Really, fluff galore. Not proofread.

𝙰/𝙽: I just needed some fluff in my life ya'll... Wrote this in literally an hour and a half, listening to 80s music like crazy. Just a little treat for you and me. Hope you enjoy! **Images are for aesthetic only**

Read here on AO3!

Joel pulled into the driveway, and could see shadows quite literally dancing in his living room window. One small, about waist-high, and the other a bit taller with a build he was familiar with. 

His daughter, Sarah, and… you, his most trusted babysitter and neighbor. You were back from college and trying to figure out your next steps in life. You had watched Sarah on and off for the past couple of summers, and now you were still her trusted guardian when he wasn’t around, but now into the school year. 

He killed the engine, and looked at the shadows dancing back and forth, Sarah’s little form bouncing around with little rhythm, but you twirled her around and threw your head back with laughter he could imagine from memory. 

He climbed out, the bass of the music escaping the atmosphere. He chuckled, and shook his head. Any of his other neighbors would probably think this was a house party had this not been a common occurrence. Your “dance parties” were something Sarah talked about with excitement, and says you were always showing her new music like Queen or David Bowie, sometimes some Michael Jackson or Elton John. She always seemed to walk away from it with a newfound love for whoever you had put on that night. Her favorite right now was “Under Pressure,” and she would parade around the living room screaming what she thought were the accurate and true lyrics (they never were, but he loved her trying for it anyway).

Joel was proud of her, and of you for exposing his kid to such classic music. He remembered he tried to play some classic country, and Sarah would lament about how “weird and depressing” it sounded. (Yet another thing- or in this case word- she learned from you). 

She loved the pop/rock of the old days, you had said one night when Joel brought it up when Sarah had been put to bed. He laughed, commenting how the old days were literally yesterday. It was only 1997, after all. He also commented how you were brought up in that time, and you only rolled your eyes and swatted his arm, saying something about not reminding you of your age. 

He was the old man here, somewhere in his early 30s. You were still young and spry, a whole future ahead of you. 

He was grateful for you, and he had no idea if you really knew it. You probably didn’t notice the lingering looks or the insistence on him paying you more than enough to watch Sarah. He liked having you around, more than just as a babysitter.

But, you probably didn’t think twice about him.  

He didn’t know how long he stood in the driveway watching your silhouettes dance in the bright light of the living room, but he finally moved as curiosity got the best of him. He hardly ever came home to your dance parties, getting in late when Sarah was already in bed and you were waiting on him. 

This time, he got to see what all the fun was about when it came to your dance parties. 

He was careful to open the door as quietly as he could, but he heard a squeal of delight and threw it open as Sarah came barreling into his arms. She was dressed in a sparkly gold dress, something from her dress up bin, and the material scratched at his arms when he picked her up. He didn’t mind one bit.

He looked over at you as you quickly went to the sound system to turn down the music, and you stood straight with a sheepish smile, putting your hands in your back pockets. 

“Daddy! Daddy, we were having a dance party again. Did you see my dress? She showed me a really cool song by- what is it again?” Sarah questioned, shifting in her dad’s arms to look at you with wide brown eyes that reflected her father’s. You grinned, 

“That one would be Dancing Queen. You liked ABBA, didn’t you?” You giggled and Sarah nodded quickly, turning to Joel who was grinning from ear to ear.

“Yeah? You like disco, huh?” Joel chuckled and she squirmed in Joel’s arms until he set her down and she jogged to your side, grabbing your hand and looking up at you.

“We gotta show daddy the dance! You said that if I want to do it for the talent show, I have to practice. Practice makes perfect, that’s what you said.” she said matter of factly, and Joel raised his eyebrows.

“Talent show?” he mused, though he had heard Sarah mention it a few mornings ago. You glanced at Joel with an anxious expression, shrugging slightly.

“Good to let kids exercise their creative side, right?” you laughed, and then Sarah tugged at your hand. You nodded, “You show your dad the dance, I’ll turn on the music. Do you have your microphone?”

“But I can’t do the dance unless you help me! You said I could watch you do it- maybe daddy can watch and learn it, too! Then we can all do it!” Sarah cried excitedly, picking up a hairbrush that Joel figured was her “microphone,” and crossed his arms with a smirk. 

“How about I sit this one out, baby. You two can show me what you’ve been up to.” he said, and Sarah looked at you with those big brown puppy dog eyes. Even with your hesitancy, you sighed and he could see you swallow. Were you… nervous? You had never given yourself away like this before, but you also haven’t ever put on a “show” for Joel before. 

“Okay,” you said, and clapped your hands together. “Positions!” you cried, and Sarah walked to the middle of the living room, turning around and held the “microphone” above her head all while stifling a giggle. Joel leaned against the wall of the living room, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

The sound of the piano filled the room and you and Sarah jumped into the dance. Sarah was a bit more clumsy, watching your feet but trying her absolute hardest to get it right. You mouthed the words with her, and she held up the microphone as she danced and lip synced. 

Joel could only watch in awe. 

You seemed to forget about him as you danced with Sarah, and he saw that glimmer in your eyes as you spun her around and did the footwork for the song. 

“You can dance, you can jive! Having the time of your life…”

Joel put a hand over his mouth to stifle laughter as Sarah’s face contorted into concentration, her eyes glued to your feet and trying to replicate them. Eventually, it seemed you abandoned the choreography and just began to dance and jump around in the living room. 

Joel lowered his hand and the gold of Sarah’s dress was creating a disco effect all on it’s own. She looked so happy dancing around with you, holding your hand. 

The image tugged at his heart and made his chest tighten. 

He really should tell you how he felt. 

One day.

When the song came to an end, both you and Sarah were sweaty, panting messes and Joel erupted in cheers and clapping, walking over and swooping Sarah up in his arms.

“Best Dancing Queen i’ve ever seen!” he laughed, and Sarah held onto him as he spun around with her in his arms. She laughed, and when he stopped, he could see you smiling from ear to ear. 

“I want to be in the talent show, daddy!” she said, and he nodded with mock seriousness.

“We will have to get you a new dress.” he replied, and she looked at him in disbelief and then cried out in delight, hugging him tightly. He felt you tap his arm gently and he glanced over at you,

“Miss Dancing Queen needs to get ready for bed.” you said, cocking an eyebrow. Sarah leaned her head against Joel’s shoulder, looking at you,

“But…” she said, but barely finished before yawning. You nodded knowingly, and Joel chuckled lowly. He handed Sarah off to your arms, who was still giving futile resistance. 

“I know, baby, but you gotta sleep. Even Dancing Queens need their beauty sleep.” you chided, patting her back as you carried her up the stairs. He watched you both disappear and then walked over to kick off his work boots and go to the kitchen to see you had prepared leftovers for him. You were always considerate like that, and he wondered if it was intentional or not. 

You were so good. Such a good-natured and kind-hearted person. 

He and Sarah were lucky to have you in their lives. 

He walked up the steps after scarfing the food down, and heard you and Sarah talking in the bedroom.

“Do you think he’ll let me really do it?” Sarah questioned. 

“I think your dad would let you do anything, so long as you bat those cute eyelashes.” you teased, and Sarah giggled. He stopped at the outside of the door, just out of sight.

“Will you dance with me?” 

Another laugh from you.

“I’ll teach you it so you won’t even need me. You’ll be better than me.” 

There was a beat of silence, and he heard the sheets shift slightly. Sarah questioned your name, and you responded with what Joel could imagine was a soft, understanding expression.

“Why can’t you stay?” she questioned, and he could hear your breath hitch. Or maybe, he thought you did. 

“I gotta go home, babygirl. I gotta sleep, just like you,” you said.

“Why can’t you sleep here? Daddy won’t mind. He said he likes having you here.” 

Joel stiffened, and he heard silence for a few moments. He couldn’t tell if you were smiling or looking at Sarah with regret or something else. He tried to listen close and hard.

“I like being here too,” you said quietly, and he felt a bit of relief come over him. “I’ll be back tomorrow, okay?” 

He quickly made his way back downstairs, still hearing your voices indistinctly until you walked downstairs just as he sat down on the couch. He looked up, and you shared hesitant smiles with one another. 

“You, uh… you want me to drive you home?” He offered, and you smiled,

“I think I’ll manage, but… thank you.” you said, and he stood up, gesturing that he would walk you out. You picked up your bag in the doorway, stepping over his boots he had kicked away. You were always so careful, so thoughtful, even when he was in the way. 

“You know, Sarah mentioned something about a pool party.” You said, and he raised his eyebrows, then nodded as he recollected it.

“Yeah… Yeah, Tommy’s birthday is soon. Wants an old-fashioned pool party,” he explained, and you nodded, silence following as you bit your lip. He finally realized what was happening and cleared his throat,

“You should… you should- y’know. You’re invited. Obviously.”

“Obviously.” you teased with a smile, head tilting to the side. He watched you, his eyes flickering between your own. His eyes glanced down at your lips for what he thought was a millisecond, but when his gaze rose you were looking at him expectantly. 

“So, tomorrow?” Joel said after clearing his throat, and you nodded, your eyes narrowing.

“Yeah. Tomorrow. Same time.” you said, and he nodded, realizing you were standing between him and the knob to the front door. He nodded, smiling lightly and began to reach around you to grab it when-

You kissed him. 

It was light, soft, but expressive. Your hand was pressed against his cheek in a moment, and the doorknob was abandoned. Hands moving to your waist, he sunk in to your touch and your kiss like he’s been dying to do for so long. 

He only pulled away when his lungs burned with the lack of oxygen, and he leaned his forehead against yours. Your hand slackened against his cheek, and he smiled gently. 

“I think, maybe, we should talk about this-”

“I agree.” you replied quickly, breathless. He pulled away to gaze at your face, and he nodded.

“Yeah. How about over dinner?” he questioned with a sudden burst of confidence. You grinned, your hand sliding down to his chest. 

“Name the time and place, Mr. Miller, and I’ll be there.” you giggled, and he nodded, his hands still on your waist. You placed another kiss on his lips, this one light and discreet, and you pulled away to grab the doorknob, twisting it to open the door.

“Yeah, I will. I’m…” he said as you began to step out. He took your wrist quickly and turned you around, giving you a hard kiss. He still couldn’t believe this was happening. God, what was he doing? He supposed he would deal with the repercussions of it the next day. No regrets would be felt on his part, though. 

“Thank you.” he murmurs when he pulled away, and you looked up at him with that glimmer in your eyes of something deeper. Something more meaningful. You gave him a smile that always knocked the wind out of him, and this time was no different. 

And now, a world of possibilities was opening up to you both. 

“Do you… do you want a drink?” he tested, his hand still wrapped around your wrist. You glanced behind you into the night, like it held the answer. You turned back to him, shifting in his grasp to take hand. You pulled yourself towards him, over the threshold of the door, looking up as you stood nearly chest to chest.

“Is that a yes?” he chuckled, and you nodded. He grinned, pulling you closer and shutting the door swiftly. Nothing was left but the night and its possibilities.

Thank you for reading! Comment, like, reblog... anything is appreciated!

dividers by @/saradika-graphics & photos from Pinterest.

[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

[daemyra-fire]

I've seen a lot of theories from the last two chapters and I want to share them with you to see if any of them are right in the end.

Well

the first theory is the most obvious

Rose dies or loses the baby from the photo in episode 9, it seems that Nick is in a hospital, so the theory says that something happens to her in episode 9, the fandom has been killing Rose since season 5 so it may be true.

This has been talked about a lot so it doesn't need much information.

2. Nick is the guard next to June

This guard who appears for two seconds fighting alongside Luke in the trailer is Nick, reasons: none, many girls say "I know my man" which is funny because it does seem like Nick, but there is no further proof, it would be interesting if it was, especially because I doubt Nick would let June die. We'll see in the episode if it was true.

3. Moira and Janine may die in the execution

There is no proof, just fan speculation, but one of the two could die in the execution episode.

I really hope neither of them does, but if it happens, it will probably be Moira.

I feel like her arc is closing and going with June to Gilead was her final act, unlike Janine, whose story opens so that she can leave Gilead with Charlotte and stop suffering.

4. Lawrence is the real villain

This theory is huge, it came from reddit, if you want to read it I'll leave the link https://www.tumblr.com/daemyra-fire/783368197271355392/the-lawrence-theory-its-not-mine-it-was-made?source=share which is in the profile of @living4romance

In my opinion I don't think it's true, Lawrence is one of my favorites and I think he wants to fix the things he did wrong although he also has moments of dubious morality, I don't think he's the biggest villain in Gilead.

5. June returns to the Waterford house at the end

The preview photo of chapter 10 was analyzed and many people believe that she is sitting again in her room with the Waterfords, giving closure to her story in Gilead. I don't know if the Waterford house is still standing after the fire, but it would be a great closure if it ended where the story began. I would really love that.

6. June and Nick date at the pizzeria

A girl talked about seeing a recording of THT in a pizzeria, she went to ask the owner if a scene had been made, obviously he didn't say anything, but from clues in the series it is said that it could be the "first" date between Nick and June at the end of the series, especially after they talked about it in episode 6. There is no proof of this but it would be incredible!

7.loses another state

I didn't find the photo, but a person who saw the recording set showed that the American flag now has only one star instead of two as they have shown around the series. I don't understand why they would lose a state if the idea is supposed to recover Boston, but we'll have to wait and see if this really happens.

8.random theories

Nick kills June or June kills Nick :

What? No, it would be the worst decision to end the series, impossible no

Serena is killed by Wharton or becomes a maid:

I don't know where they want to take Serena, but I don't think she deserves redemption and a happy life. Death by Wharton would be ironic, but I doubt he'd do it, and being a maid was already in season 5, so I don't know where she'll end up, especially because she's always very lucky.

Wharton as the father of Rose's baby

WTF? No, I think if that were the case, the series would have shown it before. Besides, this is clearly not Game of Thrones. I doubt something like that would happen.

9.June sees Hannah for the last time

The whole idea is based on the opening of the testaments, that June can see Hannah before escaping, but there is no proof that it will happen.

10. Nick is going to die in the end

I just want to say that this theory has been around for years, but if Nick were to die, my emotional stability would be ruined. I already suffered a loss from a fictional character this month and I still haven't recovered from Joel in Tlou

So I hope they leave Nick with June in peace, calm, and happiness. Thank you. End of statement.

Now we just have to wait and see which of the theories are real and which are not.

No comments on Luke, I have no idea what's going on with him and to be honest I don't care.

[mybworlds]

Chapter 11: Beyond Desolation

Pairing: joel miller x f!reader (no use of Y/N) | Rating: 18+ Minors DNI | W.C.: 2.5K

Summary: Your life sounds perfect: you live with a perfect man, you live in your dream house, you do the job you love, you don't miss anything, except love and passion.

Warnings: no use of Y/N, use of you, reader is a photographer, reader has no physical descriptions except hair (no type or color) long enough to hold on to, unspecified age gap, Joel and reader are two cheaters, for a while. Smut, use of pet names, dirty talk, masturbation, unprotected PiV but the first time, creampies, comeplay, oral (both f and m recieving), exhibitionism, size kink, personal use of an unspecified sex toy. No outbreak here. Let me know if I missed anything!

A/N We come to the end of this story and writing the epilogue was not easy because I wanted to give a fair epilogue both to this much hated Joel and to the female protagonist. You probably won't agree with this ending, but I hope I've still entertained and involved you in some way. Thx xxx

Masterlist

follow @mybworlds and turn on notifications to get notified when I post new fics

Thx for the dividers @saradika-graphics

Taglist @harriedandharassed

“Hey,” he says looking you in the eyes. Even though he hurt your feelings, you can't help but miss a beat.

“Hey,” you say using his same tone. He looks tired, his curly hair is a messy mess as if he's run his hands through it over and over again. There are obvious dark circles under his eyes as if he hadn't slept for days. Despite this, he’s always good looking.

“I'm here to fix the glass.” he tells you.

Your heart is pounding so hard you fear he might hear it.

“I thought you sent someone to do this,” you tell him trying hard to control your voice.

“For a moment I thought it was better to do it this way,” he continues.

Please, remember what he did to you!

“So why did you come?” you ask him.

“I wanted to talk to you,” he says, silent for a moment. “Sorry, actually.”

You cross your arms regaining control of yourself and the situation, “For what?” Your voice shakes slightly, but you disguise it with a little cough.

“For ruining your life. For not understanding the discomfort I caused you.” His words burn deep inside, your insides seem to tighten painfully. “I said things to you and did things that… were easily misunderstood. I was an asshole.” You nod. “I’m sorry.” He adds again.

“Okay.”

Only then you notice a duffel bag, “I’ll fix the damage my daughter did and then I’ll go away.” he tells you in case you were thinking of something else.

You step aside, letting him in, then close the door. He waits for you to go ahead and lead him, which you do, and then you go into another room.

What does he expect you to say to him? Okay, don't worry, you just broke my heart and destroyed my life, don't worry, these things happen! You’ll never be able to give this answer, even if you simply wanted to help him clear his conscience.

You hear him fiddling in the other room, while you're struggling to work on the computer on the latest shots taken for the Santa Barbara fashion house, you'd like to enhance the clothes in the right way by modifying the light and the contrast, but your mind always takes you there, in the other room.

Damn, he was such an asshole!

You get up from your desk and reach out to him, you don't know how he did it, but he's cut the broken glass and he’s inserting a new one.

You look at him with your arms crossed, he looks up at you from time to time. He probably notices your stiff posture, the embarrassment for the whole situation because he clears his throat now and then.

“Sarah… she… she, well, she made a real mess,” he says, trying to start a conversation with you.

“Uh, uh.” you grumble, walking over to the fridge to get some water. You close your eyes as you hear him cough in embarrassment at not hearing any more words from you.

You drink a couple of glasses of water, then you turn to him and see him working, you notice his focused expression, how he wrinkles his forehead and how a very noticeable wrinkle forms between his eyebrows, at that moment you notice that he’s wearing large work gloves, surely to avoid cutting himself.

At other times you’d have found that expression so absorbed and concentrated incredibly sexy, now you just feel uncomfortable being in his presence. You clench your hands nervously, it’s Joel again speaking to you, “I apologize again for what Sarah did. When I get home…”

“No need.” You interrupt. “You’re repairing the damage, end of story.” You add, your heart pounding in your chest. You bite your lower lip, trying to look out the balcony.

It's been months since you saw him and yet that burning humiliation still hasn't left you. You have always been honest with him, he has been ambiguous and cruel and, best of all, Tess.

“I’ll weld the glass and then I’ll leave,” he informs you.

You hum without looking at him.

“I'm going to get the equipment and be back.” he says, you notice out of the corner of your eye that he’s looking at you, but you don't look back at him at all.

You just want him to go away. It hurts to be with him. And you don't want to feel any more hurt because of him.

A few moments later, he returns. He works in absolute silence, the only noise being the hum of the machinery he uses.

You look up at his face from time to time, you think back to how much you fantasized about him and how with that same face he watched you disintegrate your life and destroy your heart.

“Finished,” he announces.

“Good.” Only then you look him in the eyes. “Thanks. Um… do you want – do you want a glass of water?”

“If it doesn’t bother you.”

You nod, turning your back on him and walking towards the fridge, your hands shaking slightly as you pick up the glass and pour the water. You turn around and he's a couple of steps away from you, his dark eyes looking first at your face and then at your shaking hand as you offer him the glass, he grabs it and, frowning slightly, begins to drink.

You watch his thick fingers grip the glass and his lips press against the glass.

Damn.

He swallows, then asks you, “You okay?”

You decide to be honest, “No. Your very presence hurts me. It makes me feel so bad, Joel.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, taking a step toward you, but you immediately take a step back.

You shake your head, “No.”

You and him stay at a safe distance, he puts his hands on his hips, he's about to say something, but then thinks better of it and sighs, “You’re right. I was horrible to you. Ours wasn’t supposed to be anything more than sex... I thought we would never get further, but you immediately knew how to make me lower my guard and helped me bring out things that until that moment I had kept to myself.” he looks you in the eyes, he seems really sorry “I was wrong to do it because I let you into my life and that made you somehow involved in my private sphere. It’s not your fault.” he punctuates the last words, you look up at him again “I was the one who made the mistake with you. I had ambiguous attitudes and.. I shouldn't have told you all those things, I - I..."

He’s in trouble, you see it, so you decide to intervene by telling him “Don’t be afraid. Got it. Thanks to you I realized that love and any kind of relationship are a scam.” you say feeling a lump in your throat and understanding how bitter your words are and how much this truth you just confessed to him hurt you because Joel has given you such a disappointment that you know will prevent you from trusting someone else completely as you’ve done with him or in the past “I’ve become a heartless bitch like you. Thanks.” you say melancholically, looking him straight in the eyes and crossing your arms. “But unlike you, I won’t be able to use others just for a little pleasure.”

His eyes become even darker and more serious, subtly sad. “You’ll never be like me.” He pauses. “I’d never wish that on you. I hope that one day you find love and that you find someone who believes in it just like you do.”

You shake your head slowly, “You know, the last few times we were together, I thought that…” you huff a little, suppressing the lump in your throat and trying to control your voice “I thought we were making love, I was so sure of it.” you sigh finding it difficult to confess everything to him, but you have to say it, “I thought there was no need to say those three words because I thought that certain attitudes and care towards each other were enough.” your eyes sting “Think how stupid I was!”

“I'm sorry,” he says, lowering his head and staring at the empty glass in his hands.

“Is that all you can say?” you see him tighten his fingers even more tightly around the cup “You once told me that you are afraid of commitment and.. and I understand that, I accept that, but when you realized that you were becoming important to me, why didn’t you..?” you sigh “When you realized how much you meant to me, you immediately walked away and moved on to the next one, Tess.” you add by telling him everything that was in your head and that for a while you had managed to keep aside and not think about it.

You feel better because you have given voice to everything that hurt you about his manners.

Joel purses his lips, “Tess..” he whispers her name, then looks at you “I tried to start what I had done in the past and then with you.. I tried to.. to be with her, y’ know,” your heart is beating furiously in your chest, you don't want to hear certain things, but you imagine you have no choice “but, I froze.”

“Should I care or feel sorry for you now?” you ask him acidly, shaking your head slowly.

“No, but I just wanted you to know that there’s nothing left between me and Tess. I repeat, I tried, but… I thought about the pain I caused you and so I thought I didn't want to hurt anyone else.”

“So you reserved the podium for me for having torn my heart out!” you exclaim, you huff taking the glass from his hands “You know what? It’s okay.” you blurt out putting the glass in the sink “Thanks for telling me. Thanks for making your position clear on this.” you pause for a moment “I sincerely thank you for just one thing,” he looks at you curiously “Thank you for making me understand that I wasn’t happy with Patrick.” he lowers his gaze as if struck by a sudden sense of guilt “He deserved better? Yes. Me? Fuck, yes. You?” you take a long pause, your almost angry tone fades to become softer “You too.” only then does he look up while maintaining an almost unreadable expression “I loved you, it's true, but then I also hated you. But now that I see you... I don't feel hate, only... bitterness and pity.” You find yourself swallowing and almost suddenly you feel better and the lump in your throat seems to slowly dissolve.

“Ever since my ex-wife left me accusing me of only thinking about work, I told myself that I would never let anyone else into my heart, ever again. In the end, who lost out? Me.” A long, heavy silence follows. The man who seemed so sexy and confident to you and then so cruel, now seems to have decided to show his true self.

“I’m sorry you’ve built this horrible mask because you’ve forbidden whoever she is to know you. You’ve made yourself miserable.” you sigh, deciding not to take it any further.

“I think we have now been truly sincere.” he mutters under his breath, you find yourself nodding faintly, having agreed with him after so long, “Do you have any whiskey by any chance?”

“Sure.”

You pour the distillate into the glass and hand it to him. You see him sigh heavily before taking a big sip.

“We'll be fine,” you tell him, offering him a friendly look. He nods, giving you a quick glance before taking the last sip.

You don't say anything else, but for now it's enough for you. You feel more serene and you know that from today on it will probably be better, you were stuck in that limbo where Joel Miller himself had pushed you.

You greet each other with a handshake and a long, silent look. You don't know if you'll see each other again one day, if you'll talk to each other or if you'll pretend not to know each other again, or if you decide to start something again that will last this time, what you know is that you can now forgive him and let him go.

Now your life can begin again...

[radishanatomy]

Hi! Just wanted to say I'm OBSESSED with The exorcist of Venice, it's by far the best Bellesco fic I've read and one of my favorites in the fandom!!! They way you integrate bible verses and poetry so seamlessly in the prose is fascinating, and so are the mistery of the cases, the mythology, the tension (both spiritual and sexual), the internal reflection, the crisis of faith... it's perfectly tailored to my tastes, truly I've gotten a 5 star meal FOR FREE!!! I can't thank you enough for your work!

Your characterization of both Aldo and Goffredo is fantastic as well, I love how they aren't exactly friends but aren't enemies anymore, what an akward situation to be. Truly their dynamic is most interesting, I'm at the edge of my seat whenever they discuss or at the end of each case when they share strangely intimate moments.

I'm very excited to see in which direction you'll take the story, I'm sure it will exceed my expectations, as usual! But please take your time, rest well and be kind to yourself in the process!! I - and everyone else - will wait patiently! Sending you lots of love and admiration from Brazil! ❤

P.s.: Do you have any book recs? I love your repertoire and your writing, it really shows how skilled you are. I've been meaning to read Dante Alighieri for some time, maybe this will finally convice me to gather my courage and try.

Take care!

- 🐝

hi there, bestie! thank you so much for your sweet message, i'm so happy to hear my story hits the spot for you 🤭

tbh the bible verses require a lot of research, because with that book there's always something different than you expect behind the words (and i'm sure i've gotten things wrong before) but it's also very fun and i often end up reading a whole chapter or three (you know how some people have yearly goal of reading the whole bible? yeah i might accomplish that--just out of order lol)

bellesco is soo fun to play around with, it's so awkward and angsty and i love their worstie dynamic... when castellitto said there was an angry sensuality to tedesco? i felt that... deeply (maybe a little too deeply 👀)

awh thank you so much for the well wishes! my recent break has really helped my mental energy and i'm trying to take things slowly rn--but it's also very fulfilling to finish each part!

sending lots of love to brazil! 💚💛💙

p. s. oh wow reading recs... depends what you're looking for i guess? i read mostly speculative fiction, but let's see what i can come up with!

i don't think you're here for me recommending If We Were Viallains, The Locked Tomb Trilogy, Bunny or Rebecca, since they are already so beloved (this is me sneaking them into my rec list anyway haha)

let's see what i can dig up from my brain that i haven't seen talked about enough (i'll try 10):

This House Is Haunted by John Boyne (historical horror--fucken spooky)

Elatsoe by Darcie Little Badger (ya low fantasy--top tier plot and world building)

Dead Silence by S. A. Barnes (sifi horror--the suspense made me nauseous)

Binti by Nnedi Okorafor (afrofuturism--beatiful worldbuilding & narration)

The Saint of Steel series by T. Kingfisher (cosy romantasy with mystery--perfect series in all aspects: plot, characters, WORLDBUILDING; i recommend the audio book narrated by Joel Richards)

The Clown by Heinrich Böll (general fiction--simultaneously pathetic and funny, riled up the german catholic church in the 60s)

Into The Drowning Deep by Mira Grant (scifi horror--i recommend this to everyone who wants more creepy merfolk and speculative fiction grounded in reality, FANTASTIC ENDING. i don't want to spoil the book, but there's an element CLEARLY inspired by it in my version of the merperson)

Folding Beijing by Hao Jingfang (scifi dystopia novelette--fascinating concept)

Emergency Skin by N. K. Jemisin (scifi short story)

The Invocations by Krystal Sutherland (fantasy horror--girl magic need i say more?)

[factorialsotherfandoms]

Only has an idea late and did this one on my phone so... meet Professor Shadowlady of the Imperial Magitechnical University, here to pick a bone with her husband.

"Joel!!!"

Lizzie storms down the corridors of Hermiton University, skirts hiked up and students scattering out of her way. Working at rival universities on other ends of the content is a distance easily broached by portals, but an agreement not to bring work to bed is now.

"I swear, Joel, when I find you..."

One of the lecturers - or maybe a student, it can be so hard to tell - fails to get out of her way.

He flinches under her glare but pulls himself together, "Professor Shadowlady, can i help you?"

... She is here to scare her idiot of a husband, not his colleages.

"Have you seen Joel?" She asks.

"Oh, um," hands twist together. "I'd check the staff room on the nexr floor."

"Thank you, dear."

She gives the man a smile, before settling her face back into its possition and storming back up the stairs.

In all her years as a professor at the Imperial Univeristy... In all her years, her husband has never /dared/ to pull this nonsense.

Then again, for most of them they did work in at least the same building...

No matter.

She finds the staff room, and lets herself in. Ignoring the other staff in the room she marches straight to her husband, and slams her hands into the desk.

"What," she asks him. "Are you doing?"

"You're really going to have to be more specific; I do a lot of things," Joel leans back in his chair, but looks otherwise unbothered; if he was the sort of person who would be, she would never have married him in the first place.

"Xycelsor!" She jabs a finger into Joel's chest, not hard but enough to accuse. "My summer intern! You stole him!"

"I offered him a better deal, more like."

"/Joel/, he was mine! We already had a contract!"

"Aaand now he has a new one."

Joel reaches up, taking her hands. She glares at him, but doesn't remove them.

"We both know he'll be happier with me," Joel points out.

It is not nearly as clear cut a thing as Joel says; Joel's research fields are a better fit, yes, but there is the distance and unfamiliar setting to consider. Hermiton is on the back of a turtle at the moment! Hers at least has a steady and stable location. And this close to the ocean... Xycelsor was worried about the Ancient Ones charming him away.

But.

It is a better fit...

"One word that he's unhappy, just /one/, and I'm stealing him back," Lizzie makes that very clear. "Also, I'm stealing one of your summer interns in his place."

That finally gets Joel to move.

"Wait, what?!" He asks. "/Lizzie/!"

"I think that's fair."

"Ugh, well- whi are you stealing?"

"I haven't decided yet," she taps her cheek. "Maybe I'll stay a few days and host interviews."

"You have time off for that?"

"I can portal."

Vaguely she is aware of the whispering of the other staff. She finally gives them her attention, and leans back.

"Well, now that's sorted, hello everyone! I'm going to find Pearl. If you want any messages taking back to the mainland, let me know before I leave again."

As quickly as she interrupted she leaves, heading back out into the winding corridors. Pearl should be in the Post Room, unless she was needed elsewhere... It is still less likely than her other friends, ones in teaching roles.

Or Joel, but Joel is her husband - a special case where she has rights to interrupt him any time. Or almost any time; she /did/ check with his departmental head before interrupting.

This time.

A work matter must be handled in work ways, after all; and personal matters are for their evenings, far, far from the offices.

[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

@untamedheart81 @suttonspuds @cesspitoflove @michilandcof @grogusmum @morallyinept @akah565 @brittmb115 @magpiepills @poodlebae @gobaaby-blog-blog @mermaidgirl30 @mandijo17 @shotgun-shelby @itscatrodriguez-thepearl @macaroni676 @acciowolfstar1 @smolbeanzzz @sarcasm-theotherwhitemeat @bandluvr97

[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

[joeloverture]

dude thank you for shedding light on how fucking awful of a character abby AND how shitty kaitlyn is as a person and for educating people on abby's white saviorism. I saw a tiktok edit (in favor of abby) of her standing between the WLF and lev and yara, telling her crew not to shoot lev and yara because they're not "one of them" its sick I can't believe people like her and defend her story line. wait til they find out her storyline was specifically created to cater towards a more neutral audience so they can understand "both sides" ellie and abby which was based off of neil's real life "neutral" stance with Israel and Palestine. it makes me wanna vomit.

thank you for posting about it, you're the only one in this cesspool fandom that does it, massive respect to you.

okay so first of all thanks for giving me a space to talk about this!! because ive just been talking unprompted (mostly at a wall, it feels like)

i… don’t like her. not for killing joel, either. like yeah, that’s part of it, but everything about her is so poorly executed that it’s only 10% of why i dislike her.

you cannot, in writing, spend 15 hours (tlou1 average playtime) getting us to support and defend joel and ellie and see them as incredible, dynamic characters with a reliance on each other. then create a sequel that tries to get us to empathize with the person who killed him and traumatized ellie. i mean, maybe you can. but you have to begin the game that way. you need to commit. nothing in the entire game made me have sympathy for abby- not her crying over her dads corpse or her being panicked about yara or her losing manny. maybe i would’ve if her writing hadn’t been so abysmal. i find her to be so, so flat and redundant. she was an attempt at something new that ended up being bland and has since discouraged people from writing evil women the way they are meant to be written!!! abby is not a well written character, and honestly none of the tlou2 characters are. tommy makes sense, but the rest? no.

i believe for a character to make sense, their decisions need to make sense - at least to themselves. in continuously letting ellie go, this makes no sense for abby as we know her. spending 4 years training to face joel, 4 years dragging her friends into that bullshit even though they displayed growing reluctance. all of it was a selfish act of cruelty, cruelty that we never saw joel or ellie display in part one. because with part one, survival was a necessity. in creating the 2nd game, neil has admitted that there is no point to the very conflict he tried to sway his audience into his side on. it turned into a degenerate revenge porn fantasy from the mind of a white man playing at being woke.

as for abby and lev being a parallel to joel and ellie— NO. there’s an inherent power dynamic between abby and lev that feels so unnatural. “they aren’t like them” is absolutely fucking inhumane and a disgusting thing to say about any human being, especially when these fictional characters are more like caricatures of real people who are victims of real war crimes.

abby upsets me to no end. she’s a piece of shit and maybe that’d be enjoyable if her writing were framed LITERALLY any other way. all that shit with owen, lev & yara, joel, all of it? useless. this game isn’t the narrative triumph everyone acts like it is. the first game changed how stories are told. the second is watered down propaganda draped in bad writing.

and as for kaitlyn— i hope people don’t harass her, as that’s a symptom of a larger case of misogyny in hollywood. but i reserve no sympathy for a zionist who is literally acting out said revenge fantasies. absolutely none. i see no reason to defend her.

also, taking away abbys muscles? really? just shows that the team is still misogynistic. shows that neil is only casting zionists in this season. shows that the show will not be a loyal nor rejuvenating adaptation. shows that her storyline is still going to be dogshit!

im still terrified that she’s going to torture joel in the show, genuinely. because every day i log online and see people who look like me being deported. refugees who, like my family, fled here, and weren’t as lucky as we were to get citizenship. and now, i have to face the possibility of one of the few characters i find myself finding solace in played by a refugee, being tortured by a white woman. im going crazy over this honestly. i genuinely cannot handle that.

i hate abby. like seriously nothing will ever make me like her because everything she does is for selfishness instead of survival. i feel similarly about part two ellie. and again— it can be so fun to write shitty people. but neil is hellbent on making his israel coded poster girl seem like a perfect angel despite her shortcomings! and that is why the writing is awful. just lean into the atrocities. 70% of your players have already made up their mind.

[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.

[pacificseaotter]

2, 10 and 11!

2. who's POV are you watching currently, and why?

id say my main povs are pearl and scott!! i am an avid scott watcher (i would like to apologize publically for being Pretentious about him. his characters are my all time most favorite blorbos and i DO get very "no one else gets him like i do" about them) and i love pearl!! i unfortunately dont usually watch a ton of her content outside of the life series because she makes really long videos and my adhd does NOT have the attention span for hour long videos. but i LOVE pearl shes so fun. i also do try to watch as many other people's povs as i can, which so far is bigb, martyn, and lizzie. i think that gives me a pretty good view of a good amount of what happens on the server. i don't really have the energy for too many more POVS since the videos are 40m each and its hard to focus on things for hours on end even when i enjoy them (again, adhd)

10. do you have any headcanons? or theories about the season?

traffic scott is aroallo gay and polyamorous to me this is projection i am right and i will not be providing explanation or taking criticism at this time. also not rlly a headcanon but He Would Not Fucking Be Skinny quit twinkifying him. i also hc every cscott with long hair because i think he would have long hair and ccscott is WRONG about this i like to headcanon cpearl as a lesbian and genderfluid she/it! this is Also projection. but i think that it would use it/its. this is a compliment. i just think shes neat theories: grian i will steal your socks if this watcher lore turns out to be nothing i am standing here with a corkboard and red string DO YOU SEE THIS there HAS to be a deeper meaning to this. i dont think that bigbs task for session 2 actually was unusual, it wasnt worded weirdly. scar got the same task except with players last session. i think joel got the red task this time THINK ABOUT IT GUYS. THINK ABOUT IT. IT WAS SHORT AND VAGUE AND UNSPECIFIC LIKE BIGB'S. it was unspecific in the OPPOSITE direction!! like the other tasks give you a Specific succeed/fail condition but bigb's session 1 task & joel's session 2 task are both Unspecific and Dont provide a specific succeed/fail condition!! think abt it!!

11. if you had to bet on it, how long do you think this season will last?

honestly?? the way things are going i could see this season lasting WAY longer than any past season. i could see it going into december. most* of my povs at least are very good at not taking damage and unless the tasks start getting harder it doesn't seem like it's very impossible to complete your task every week?? We'll have to wait and see but at the moment it really feels like this season could go on a while. at least 10 weeks *martyn itlw not included

follow me @trafficyuri for secret life posting btw in case youve been wondering why im not posting abt it on main