#joseph christiansen/dadsona

[eddies-spaghetti]

dream daddy hyperfixation.. in the year 2024?? more likely than you would think..

[lemonsprite]

Guys how would we feel about dream daddy fanfiction in the year of our lord 2024?

[ellasgarden1]

quick doodles of my dadsona (and @unknownkona s on the second one) even though i should be working right now

[oversizedsunhats]

This will always be my favorite part of Joseph’s route fr

Two middle-aged men desperately trying to get the youths to dance is my favorite genre of activity😍

[average-dilf-enjoyer]

MASTERLIST

The Last of Us

Joel Miller

Kinktober Day 5 - You lose your virginity to Joel Miller (Smut, soft dom Joel, virginity kink, 2.7K words)

Dream Daddy: A Dad Dating Simulator

Robert Small

Kinktober Day 1 - You masturbate- but not alone (Mutual masturbation, slight dubcon, 1.2K words)

Joseph Christiansen

Kinktober Day 4 - Joseph likes being called a certain name (Daddy kink, rough sex, anal, 0.9K words)

Encanto

Bruno Madrigal

Kinktober Day 3 - Bruno always did say his real gift was acting (Roleplay, consensual dubcon, PIV sex, 1.5K words)

Stardew Valley

Shane

Kinktober Day 2 - Shane always knows just what you need (Anal fingering, rimming, 1.2K)

Harvey

(Coming soon!!)

[deadgothnbeyond]

Sanctuary: Chapter 11

Author: DeadGothNBeyond

Pairing: Joseph Christiansen/Dadsona

Chapter Word Count: 2,496

Summary:

He had almost convinced himself he might have a shot at getting out of this when he felt the pressure of another wave collapse into him—except this time, it wasn’t pulling him further out, but under.

Basil realized with a surprising calm that he was going to die out here.

-x-

Fear and revelations.

fic spotify playlist here x

[beetlegoose01]

any dream daddy/game grumps fans out there? I'm doing a little dub of the comics, if anyone is interested in watching 👀(it'll be posted on youtube!)

[artsietango]

Living the Dream Daddy - Chapter 2  is up now!

Chapter 2 for my alternate S tier ending fanfiction for Joseph/Dadsona is now uploaded! In this alternate ending, Joseph starts the divorce process with Mary while committing to the Dadsona. This chapter focuses on their weekend getaway to a beach, and how all of their feelings come back to a head.

Read Chapter 2: A Margaritaville State of Mind on AO3 here!

[professionalpattycakechamp]

Good Luck, Babe

Artist Cred: Samson's Tale (Found on Pinterest)

[Rough Translation: "Yes honey, I'll be late to come home"]

Warnings/CW: Religion, religious guilt, cheating, internalized homophobia, Implied sexual activity

Word Count: 1,654

Characters: Joseph Christiansen , Mary Christiansen , Willie Prent (Dadsona)((heh...cringe but I'm FREE))

Context: If you know Dream Daddy, this is based on Joseph's route. Basically, Dadsona and Joseph have a talk about Joseph's unfaithfulness. (This is an old draft, SPARE ME)

▬▬✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧▬▬

Joseph sighed as he wrapped a strong arm around Willie’s waist. “That was great.” Willie hummed, playing with Joseph’s hair. This wasn’t the first time Willie had been invited to Joseph’s yacht to get into the “Margarita Zone” and it had become a common way to hang out.

Joseph was still in his failing marriage with Mary and constantly kept inviting Willie to his yacht. Even if Willie occasionally helped when it came to church events, he would still come back to the yacht, regardless of the circumstances.

It wasn’t right. Something had to give.

“Joseph.” He hummed, looking up at Willie. “What’s u…You’ve got that face.” Willie cleared his throat, scratching his head. God, this was going to be a difficult talk.

“What face? I don’t have a face. I-I mean I do have a face-” Joseph sat up, looking into Willie’s eyes.

“What’s wrong, Will?” Willie sighed, fiddling with the comforter.

“Listen, this-” Willie gestured to the entire boat around them. “-It’s not right. It feels wrong. You have 4 kids and a wife at home.” Joseph physically bristled at Willie’s words.

“It’s not fair to them, and it’s not fair to me.” Joseph’s eyebrows furrowed, glaring at Willie.

“How is this not fair to you? I made the margarita zone for you-” Willie huffed, putting his head in your hands. “You don’t get it, Joseph! You have a wife! I can see your marriage isn’t the best and it seems like it hasn’t been for a long time. I…I would kill to see my husband again.” Joseph’s expression softened. “That doesn’t give me the right to take someone else’s husband. I can’t hurt someone else because I’m hurt. It isn’t right.”

Willie looked Joseph in the eyes. He knew what he was about to ask was a…Very…Loaded question.

“Do you love Mary?”

“Ye-”

“No. Think about it. Do you love Mary, or are you platonically in love with her?”

A wave of realization rushed over Joseph. “I…” Joseph rested his back against the headboard, looking down at the comforter.

“I love Mary, but not as a husband. I care about her, of course, I just…Can’t feel the way that I should.”

'Alright, Willie. You’ve had a fair share of denial growing up. Maybe you can lay it down for him.' Willie adjusted, sitting how he usually would talking to Amanda.

“Joseph, I get it. When you’re around certain people, especially growing up, getting out of their norm is a scary thing to do. You probably might have had signs when you were younger, but you have a lot of signs showing right now. You’re married to a woman, but you can’t really find that feeling you’re supposed to get when you get married. Think about it. When you…” Willie faltered, attempting to soften his wording.

“When you had sex with Mary,” Failure. “Did you have a nagging feeling that you couldn’t really place? That something wasn’t right about what you were doing?” Joseph nodded.

“Each and every time. The thing is, it felt-”

“-Different with a man?” Joseph’s eyes widened.

“How did you know?” Willie motioned to himself. “Have you seen me? You’ve been down south enough times to know I’m not exactly a regular Joe. I went through the denial dance enough times to know what it’s like. I also know that it isn’t the same for you. You’re a Christian, you have different values to follow. As the youth minister of the community church, it’s hard, but if you ever did…I dunno, come out if that’s what you wanted to do, they’d understand! If your family has something to say, you’re an adult, Joseph. You can speak for yourself.” Joseph wiped his face, huffing.

“That’s…That’s not…They aren’t the full issue.” Joseph seemed to have a hard time getting the words out.

“God sees everything. He sees us on this boat, and he sees everything I could possibly do in the future.” Joseph sighed, slumping onto Willie.

“There’s not a place in heaven for me, Willie.” Joseph sniffed, avoiding Willie’s gaze.

The two sat in silence except for the rolling waves surrounding them.

“I don’t know much about Christianity, but isn’t there something that says everyone isn’t perfect?” Joseph nodded.

“Romans 3:23-24 23.”

“I don’t know what that word nor those numbers mean.”

“ ‘For everyone has sinned; we all fall short of God's glorious standard. Yet God, in his grace, freely makes us right in his sight. He did this through Christ Jesus when he freed us from the penalty for our sins’.” Willie nodded.

“Exactly. We all mess up and that can hurt other people, but the best thing anyone can do is say sorry. It’s simple, yeah, but it’s a start.” Joseph sat up and looked at Willie. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Willie rested a hand on Joseph’s back. “If you don’t sort yourself out, you’ll hurt more people than you realize. If you live in denial, you’ll just stay unhappy for the rest of your life. If you accept who you are, you’ll feel way better.”

Joseph groaned. “I’m gay, aren’t I?” Willie shrugged. “I can’t read your mind, Joseph. You have to figure that out on your own.” Joseph nodded, hugging Willie.

“Thank you, Willie.” Willie patted Joseph’s back, feeling much less tense than before.

“Anytime, Joseph.” Willie pulled back, grabbing his clothes. “It’s getting late, we should get back to dry land.”

***

Mary swirled her wine glass, looking at the red liquid slosh around in the cup. She didn’t bother looking at the time now, Joseph was probably out with that nerd around this time.

Somehow, she still stayed with him. Why did she put herself through all of this so often?

She heard Joseph’s keys at the door and felt anger well up inside of her. Joseph quietly came inside, locking the door behind him.

“Hello Mary,” Mary grunted.

“Welcome home, sweetheart.” Mary’s tone was bitter, something Joseph learned to get used to. Joseph sat across from Mary, leaning on his knees.

“We need to talk.” Mary snorted, taking a loooooong sip from her wine. “We always talk.”

“No, Mary. We always argue. I want to have a conversation. It’s…Important.” Mary sighed.

“What.”

“I talked to Willie.” Mary bit her lip, swirling her glass. “You always talk. With your dick.” Joseph winced. Ouch.

“-He gave me some advice and…Said something that made me think. I love you, Mary.” Mary laughed bitterly. “You always say that. You’ve said that so many times, yet our marriage is about as much of a wreck as our house is.”

“There’s more, Mary. I love you, just not in the conditional sense.”

“If you have something to say, don’t beat around the bush.” Joseph straightened, letting out a sigh.

“I’m gay, Mary.”

Mary, for the first time, changed her expression. She looked extremely surprised.

“...Are yo-” Mary laughed, cackled really, setting her wine down. Joseph felt his face get hot.

“Why are you laughing?! This is serious!” Mary reached over, still laughing, smacking Joseph’s leg. She regained her composure, wiping her eye.

“Oh, Joseph, did it take you this long?”

Mary sat next to Joseph, resting a hand on his knee. “You don’t hide it well, Sailor. I mean, outside of Willie, it’s pretty clear.” Mary tugged on Joseph’s pink polo. “Not subtle at all, Joseph.”

“About Willie, we aren’t-”

“No. Stop. If you’re going to tell me anything, be truthful about it. You’re ‘art holier than thou’, so tell the truth. I know you’ve been boning Willie.” Joseph sighed, nodding his head.

“Y’know, as much of a shitty move that is, I’m more pissed about the fact you’re using me as cover. Be real about yourself without using your so-called wife and four unsettling kids as a cover.”

“It’s just…Scary. I’m supposed to serve God. I can’t do that if I’m in a relationship with a man! What will the church think?” Mary sighed, sipping her wine. “To hell what they think. I stopped worrying about the weirdos at the church a long time ago. I’ve listened to enough sermons throughout our marriage, and I should know that wherever you want to put it is between you and the man upstairs.” Mary threw the rest of her wine back.

“Be honest with me, Joseph. I don’t want to do this circle of break up, get back together all over again. Do you seriously want both me and you to be miserable until we die to keep your cover, or do you want to stop hiding and be yourself without being as miserable?” Joseph thought about it.

He’s hurt so many people denying his identity. If he keeps going like this, he could lose everyone, including Mary and Willie. It’s settled. If it ever gets too bad, he knows he can pray about it.

Joseph huffed.

“It’s past time for a divorce,” Mary smirked, patting Joseph on the back. “Proud of you, sweetheart. If it makes you feel better, I met this girl while bar-hopping with Rob. I never got with her since we were married, but at least I won’t be lonely over here.” Joseph’s mouth went agape.

“You-?” Mary barked a laugh.

“No, I didn’t cheat. Unlike you, Joseph, I know how to be faithful. Besides, I’ve turned her down before. She did say she’s open if I ever want to get with her. I like who I like, Joseph. I don’t make a big deal out of it.” Mary stood up, smiling at Joseph for the first time in a long time.

“You should thank Willie the next time you see him. I sure will. Night, sailor. It’s been a long day.” Joseph watched as Mary toddled into her bedroom, closing the door. Joseph looked at the floor, sighing. It would be hard, but the least he could do is clean up.

Jeez, didn’t he tell those kids to stop cutting up their toys?

[ao3feed-gav900]

Kinktober cause.mhm

https://ift.tt/DYbl9J1 by Cyberreed Tags will be added Later… For now here is what I got Words: 183, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Fallout 4, Detroit: Become Human (Video Game), Venom (Marvel Movies), Dream Daddy: A Dad Dating Simulator, Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse), Overwatch (Video Game), Cyberpunk 2077 (Video Game), Spider-Man - All Media Types Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: F/M, M/M, Multi, Other Relationships: Miguel O'Hara/Peter Parker, Daniel/Leo Manfred, Deacon/Arthur Maxson, Joseph Christiansen/Robert Small, Leon S. Kennedy/Ethan Winters, Ethan Winters/Mia Winters, Chris Redfield/Ethan Winters, Mary Christiansen/Dadsona, Kerry Eurodyne/V, Kerry Eurodyne/V/Johnny Silverhand, Miguel O'Hara/Ben Reilly, Eddie Brock/Venom Symbiote, Eddie Brock/Anne Weying, Cole Cassidy/Hanzo Shimada, Paladin Danse/John Hancock (Fallout), Leo Manfred/Gavin Reed, Connor/Gavin Reed, Upgraded Connor | RK900/Gavin Reed, Johnny Silverhand/V, Damien Bloodmarch/Robert Small, Paladin Danse/Robert Joseph MacCready, Damien Bloodmarch/Joseph Christiansen, Original Chloe | RT600/Elijah Kamski, Connor/Upgraded Connor | RK900/Gavin Reed, Adam Smasher/V Additional Tags: Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Kinktober, Why did I set myself up for failure

[cisphobicdamien]

i don’t think it’s ever directly stated but it’s a pretty common headcanon!

i think the only dad with a canon neurodivergency/mental illness is mat, who has an unspecified anxiety disorder. additionally npc/side character quizmaster/dj quinn has depression.

some of my personal headcanons are damien and lucien are autistic, hugo and ernest are adhd, amanda is adhd and dadsona has depression, robert also has depression, craig has adhd, brian has some form of ocd and daisy is autistic. i think a few of the christiansen kids are autistic but i’m not sure if i have any hcs for joseph and mary (other than that they definitely need marriage counseling lmao)

is damien meant to be autistic or am I just projecting

[komoside]

✨🍽️ its osso buco 🍽️✨

Entering 2023 with dream daddy shitpost art 🤪 featuring the dadsona me and @ethereal-chiii made!! His name is Seb Phillips!

[scare-ard--sleigh]

i still don't know how i feel about cult leader joseph but the dick game's probably insane i mean,, ,,,,,

[el-scartusin-de-bagul]

ALRIGHT BITCHES, since basically nobody took me seriously last time, I'm gonna repeat myself. I’m opening a Discord’ server about Dream Daddy, so, if ANYONE want to enjoy here's the link: https://discord.gg/gR7Kxce2Fr. This time I will cry if nobody joyns, but right after that the tears will become rage. Just kidding...unless?

[sportafreddie]

Consultation Hours: Chap. 2

Relationships: Joseph Christiansen/Dadsona Additional Tags: Dadsona was a soldier, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Mentioned Amputation, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Depression, Religious Content, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Identity Porn, Panic Attacks, Prosthesis, Past Character Death, Canonical Character Death Summary: “Darin (Dadsona) goes to the church’s anonymous consultation hours because he is at the end of his rope. Joseph Christiansen tries to help him. In the process, he might end up helping himself too… .

“Um, now that I’m here again, I remember you didn’t actually tell me how I’m supposed to start. I know you said it’s not a confessional, but there has to be some kind of, I don’t know, opening I ought to follow. Forgive me not-father, I haven’t sinned, but I’m still feeling like shit and last time actually did help, so here I am again.”

There is no reply. After a few minutes of sitting surrounded by silence, I shift in my seat and look at my phone again. I took a picture of the poster Joseph had put up next to the door, since I was prone to forgetting such things as numbers, dates, faces and names, and I’m definitely on time. I certainly wouldn’t have pecked Joseph as someone who was ever late.

Just as I start to think about leaving again, I hear footsteps hurrying towards the box. The next moment, the door to the other half is opened and in steps a familiar figure. “I’m so terribly sorry,” Joseph says. “I had to attend to some important matters at home. I hope you weren’t waiting for too long.”

He sounds out of breath, like he ran here, but there is also an undertone to his voice, a tension that would be easy to miss. Something tells me those matters at home weren’t of the nice kind.

I clear my throat and Joseph startles. The fact that our roles from a few weeks ago are now reversed makes me chuckle. “Hello, Joseph.”

I do not expect him to recognise me immediately, but he does. “Houdini!” Wait, why does he sound relieved? “I was worried when you didn’t show up again, but part of me hoped that means you were finally doing better... How are you?”

“Well. In my improvised opening lines, I said I feel like shit, so…”

“Improvised… opening lines?”

Heat rushes into my cheeks. Suddenly, I’m very, very happy he wasn’t there to hear it. “Doesn’t matter.” I exhale shakily and rub the back of my head. Amanda cut my hair a few days ago. The edges are uneven, but it’s much better than the mess of too-long-hair I had before; it had reminded me too much of my time in hospital. “I’m… not good. At all. I can’t remember the last time I slept for more than two hours. Though to be fair, I kind of avoid sleeping, because of the nightmares.”

“What do you dream about, Houdini?”

I laugh dryly. “The stereotypical things. Shouting, crying, gunshots, bombs. The day I lost my leg. Blood. Smoke in my lungs. Do you smoke?”

“I used to,” he replies after a beat. Even as he says it, I can hear he isn’t sure whether he should even talk about it. “When I was young. But not anymore.”

“What made you stop?”

Joseph shifts in his seat. “My wife’s pregnancy. When she showed me the pregnancy test and it was positive, I threw away all my cigarettes and quit cold-turkey.”

“I smoked before the accident. Most people in my squad did. Helped you keep calm, kept the fears and the anxiety at bay, you know? I was bedridden for so long after they cut off my leg, I detoxed without meaning to. Once I was on my feet—“ I snort. “—on my foot again, I bought myself some cigarettes and wanted to smoke, but the scent and the taste… it brought me right back to that day, so I stopped for good. It’s kind of funny. My husband always wanted me to quit, said it’s bad for my lungs, and there I came back from duty and stopped.”

It isn’t funny, not one bit, but I still laugh. It’s the kind of self-deprecating, dark humour that doesn’t go well at parties and only makes things worse. Joseph doesn’t laugh along; I can see him look at me and can feel his concern even without actually seeing him.

“Not your kind of humour?”

Joseph chuckles. “What gave it away?” I don’t give a reply, but the question doesn’t need one anyway. When he speaks again, Joseph’s tone of voice is less carefree and more serious again. “Is there anything you can pinpoint that would explain why your mood dropped so drastically the last weeks?”

“I can only guess it’s the change of scenery. New neighbourhood, new faces… well, mostly.”

“What do you mean?”

I smile and flex my hands. “My old roommate from college now lives in the area, too, not so far away from my own house. It’s crazy. I haven’t heard from him ever since I was deployed and now we meet again, after so many years.”

Joseph’s silence lasts a touch too long. I frown and try to read him through the wall that separates us, but only seeing the outlines of his body, it’s practically impossible. “Something the matter?”

He jerks as if he’d been lost in thought and shakes his head. “It just reminded me of something I overheard in my neighbourhood, don’t worry about it.” He clears his throat. “Moving away from the environment you are familiar with, trying to make a life somewhere new, can be very difficult and stressful, even for people without your experiences. What I think could help you is to get out of your house and meet the people in the area. Forging new bonds of friendship might help you feel at home and that in turn might improve your mood. That is not to say all your problems can be attributed to how you feel, but what we do and who we surround ourselves with plays a large role in how much our problems affect us. If you don’t do anything to try and break free of that vicious cycle, if you keep doing the same thing over and over again, it’s only going to get worse. At the very least, it certainly won’t get any better.”

“Speaking from experience?” I find myself asking, because there had been something about the way Joseph said it that set off my Dad senses. Trust your instincts, our sergeants had always told us, a lesson I keep close to my heart.

Joseph chuckles. Even someone without my people reading skills would have been able to tell it was fake. “No, unless we count counselling people whose situations improved after they did something.”

“Joseph,” I say, but then pause. It’s none of my business whether he speaks from experience or doesn’t; we’re here because I want him to counsel me, not the other way around. I shift in my seat and sigh. “Look, call me paranoid or something, but I feel like there are things that bother you, too, and if you are to be believed, then talking about your issues helps. You don’t know me, I know next to nothing about you, ‘s not like I could use whatever you told me against you. There’s clearly something going on with you. Wouldn’t it be kind of hypocritical if you didn’t listen to your own advice?”

The youth minister is silent. I can see him looking down at his hands, stiff like a stick, and wonder whether I took things too far. I’d always been blunt, direct; the military only made that trait of mine worse. If asked, I wouldn’t be able to tell how many times I had to do extra lapses because I stepped on my superiors’ toes.

I open my mouth to apologise, but Joseph beats me to it. “I’ll think about it.”

He sounds sincere about it, so I drop the topic.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“Have you met any of the other neighbours yet?”

I stopped for a moment to stretch and rubbed my prosthetic leg through the fabric of my track pants. Craig came to a halt next to me, wiping the sweat off his forehead. It was still surreal to think that it was Kegstand Craig standing there, the same man who once drank a whole jar of marinara sauce and claimed it was a fruit smoothie. He was so much fitter, so much healthier now than he had been during their time in college and what rough edges had been there all those years ago were refined now. Both of them had changed so much. Whenever I looked at him, I remembered the man I used to be and something inside my chests constricts painfully.

“No.” I grunted out. “I always seem to miss them when I go out. But one of the neighbours dropped by and said hello the first day, though Amanda answered the door, not me.”

Craig chuckled. “I can guess who that was. Did he drop off an invitation for barbeque?” I nod. “That was Joe. He tends to invite us all at least once a month and let me tell you, the man makes a mean burger. Speaking of the barbeque, why didn’t you come to the last one?”

I paused mid-stretch, arms behind my head, and looked down at the ground. Because the mere thought of leaving the bed and having to deal with people made me want to throw up. I didn’t say that out loud. Craig might have noticed something about me was different since college, but no one went to war and came back unchanged, and a lot of time had passed. I saw no use in telling him about my problems sleeping, eating and living; I had the consultation hour with Joseph for that. Why tell him about that, when you didn’t even tell him about your missing leg. “You know how it is. Amanda and I unpacked our stuff and tried to put everything where it belongs.”

Craig hummed. “Yeah, a house doesn’t feel like home with a dozen boxes standing around. I guess I’ll accept that reason this once, bro.” He nudged my shoulder with his fist and grinned at me. “But only if you promise to come to the next one. All cul-de-sac families show up there, even Robert Small.” There it was, that faint blush that always came whenever Craig talked about that mysterious neighbour. He hadn’t outright said it, yet, but I could tell he was crushing hard on that man. He might have changed since college, but the signs were still the same, and I had been there when he got together with Smashley.

I lightly kicked against his leg, then got back running. We were on our way back from our morning run and I could already see my house again. Joseph’s words rang in my ears. “If you keep doing the same thing over and over again, it’s only going to get worse. At the very least, it certainly won’t get any better.” I had to admit, ever since I accepted Craig’s invitation, I did feel a little bit better. The exercise helped tire out my body; most days, I managed to sleep after I came back. Not for long, but it certainly was an improvement.

We passed the house right next to mine, when a blond man in a pink shirt and brown khakis opened the front door and went to retrieve the newspaper. Craig waved at him and gave me a look that I interpreted as “That’s Joe”, so I waved too. Joe looked like he thought about approaching us to talk, but a voice calling from inside the house put a damper on his plan. He waved at us and turned to go back. For a moment, something akin to dread flashed over his face, but it was gone so quickly again, I might as well have imagined it.

I decided not to dwell on it and followed Craig up to his porch, where we decided on the next time we’d run together and exchanged our goodbyes. Limping slightly, I made my way back into the house. I couldn’t shake off the feeling that someone was watching me until I closed the door behind me.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

I didn’t know why the nightmares returned after leaving me alone for so long. My new routine with Craig had worked so well, part of me, that optimistic self Alex somehow managed to ingrain deep within my soul, had hoped they would never come back.

You would be so lucky, huh.

I was up and on my feet before my brain could even register and send the urge to scream down to my vocal chords. Blindly, I searched for the nearest wall and used that to keep me upright. The wallpaper felt different, rough under my fingers, almost like stone or sand. When I opened my mouth to gasp for breath, I could taste sand on my tongue, sand and wind and blood. I wanted to scream, but my throat was too dry, not a sound came out.

I have to get outside. Out. I need fresh air. Out—

My body functioned on auto-pilot. I grabbed the nearest jacket and shrugged it on, pressing my cheek against the soft fabric that was so different from the army-issued uniform, it helped ground me. The last remnants of my nightmare were still echoing in my brain as I opened the front door and stepped out into the cold night. It was dark, except for the streetlamps that created little circles of light in a perfectly uniform spacing.

Panicked, I made it to the street before my legs gave in and I landed on my knees. My leg-stump protested, since the position made my prosthesis dig painfully into my skin. The pain only made things worse. Before my mind’s eyes flashed gunshots. I heard screaming, shouted orders and the distinct sound of an automatic rifle near me. All sound, however, is drowned out by the loud boom of a frag grenade. Someone screamed. Belatedly, I realise it’s me. I’m on my back and there’s blood, so much blood, and pain, my leg feels like it’s on fire, there are hands holding me down, someone is shouting orders, but all I can hear is my own, deafening scream.

That is, until a voice breaks through the haze. Somehow, it sounds familiar, but I cannot put a finger on it. It is soothing, like the gentle caress of water, and takes away the flames that eat at my leg.

“Did you have a nightmare, neighbour?”

A beat. Two. Then I scrambled to my feet. Joe followed suit, hands anxiously hovering near me in case I would fall down again. The beating of my heart is so loud, I’m certain he could hear it too.

Numbly, I nodded, rubbing my face and wiping away my tears. I closed my eyes and lay my head back. For a few minutes, all I did was breathe. The taste of sand and blood was replaced by that of the sea, mixed with something uniquely Maple Bay; my hands stopped shaking and my heartbeat slowed down. When I opened my eyes again, Joe was still standing there, watching me.

“I’m okay,” I croaked out. My voice was at least an octave deeper than it normally was, thanks to my silent screaming and crying. “Thanks.”

“Want to talk about it?”

I shook my head, then jerked it towards the pavement. He followed without a comment, even sat down next to me as I got comfortable in the grass. It was wet, not hot and dry like sand. “Why are you awake?”

Joe shrugged, his shoulder bumping against mine. “Couldn’t sleep. Perhaps because my instincts told me someone needed company.”

I snorted. The idea was so absurd, it might as well have been true. I had long ago given up on trying to understand the inner workings of the world. Otherwise, I might have gone crazy searching for a reason why me, of all people.

You know why.

Neither of us said anything, but the silence was comfortable. An hour passed without a spoken word passing between us; half an hour later, as the first rays of sunlight emerged from beneath the ocean, Joe stood up and stretched. He offered me his hand; it was rough and calloused, spoke of strength that I wouldn’t have thought he possessed.

“If you ever need to talk to someone, you know where you can find me. Try to get some sleep, okay?”

I nodded and, instead of saying anything, gave his hand a squeeze. He turned and walked back into his house. I followed his example and returned inside, heading straight to the kitchen to prepare breakfast for Amanda.

As I stood there, making pancakes, a thought struck me. Joe’s voice sounded awfully familiar. I wrote it off as mistaken memories, which was better than accusing my mind of playing tricks on me, and forgot about it.

“Hey, ‘manda,” I said as I heard shuffling feet behind me. A moment later, she kissed my cheek and stole one of the pancakes from the plate.

“Morning, Dad. You awake already?”

“I fell asleep early last night.”

After the breakfast, while cleaning the pan, I happened to look out of the window, just in time to see Joe in his garden. Our eyes met. I smiled and waved. There was a strange feeling low in my belly as his face lit up and he waved back.

I dropped my eyes and checked my phone. I decided it was time to go see Joseph again, after what happened.

[deadgothnbeyond]

Sanctuary: Chapter 9

Author: DeadGothNBeyond

Pairing: Joseph Christiansen/Dadsona

Chapter Word Count: 2,127

Summary:

"Do you think we can actually work this out in a way where it's okay for the kids?" 

"Mmhmm…" she hummed into his chest.

"Well, anything's better for the kids than us fighting all the time, I guess… isn't it?"  She chuckled darkly at that, and held him tighter. They swayed back and forth for a few more minutes before Joseph spoke again. 

"Mary, you're wrong about one thing. I do love you. I've loved you since the day I first saw you."

-x-

To love her, to honor her, to comfort her, to keep her in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live.

fic spotify playlist here x

shoutout to @wolveria for singlehandedly reminding me that this fic exists and inspiring me to pull out my drafts today lol