#smart watch under 2000 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

whocaresstillthelouvre · 8 months ago

Text

See The Road You're On

Elks Chapter 1 Version 2.0

Pairing: Jackson Joel Miller x Female Reader Chapter Rating: T. (Nothing explicit for the first few chapters.) Chapter Summary: The man you've had a crush on since he showed up to Jackson just so happens to be your favorite student's caretaker.. and he just saw you do a brutal face plant in front of his home. Chapter Warnings: soft jackson joel, outbreak and quarantine zone memories, ellie has a smart mouth, anxious reader, mentions of blood and an injury from falling, everyone lives happily ever after, joel and ellie don’t leave jackson, early 2000’s indie rock Words: 5,500 Header courtesy of @saradika-graphics

Next Chapter

Masterlist Playlist “Caring Is Creepy” - The Shins

The world ended the day after you bought your homecoming dress. You begged your mom for it–a beautiful deep forest green sequined sweetheart a-line gown–the neckline perfectly showed off your prized gold daisy pendant. You felt like a princess, life couldn’t have been better. Your alarm buzzed on the morning of September 26, 2003, the only worry floating around your teenage head was the grade you’d receive on your essay about René Magritte for AP English. While walking home after a typical boring high school day with your guitar slung across your back and headphones on, little did you know you were hearing the final lyrics before everything changed:

“Hold your glass up, hold it in Never betray the way you’ve always known it is One day, I’ll be wondering how I got so old, just wondering how”

Twenty years later, hardened by life in the Denver Quarantine Zone and gently softened by your now comfortable life in Jackson, you’re still waiting for your first dance.

Art and music have always been at the forefront of your life; you’ve never allowed anything to take away your creativity. Continuing to create no matter how much pain the reality of losing everyone you’ve loved to the plague roaming the earth brought you. You create for yourself using art as a way to soothe your thoughts and anxieties, you create for the Settlement of Jackson to give back to the town that has given you a good life for the past five years, and most importantly you create for your students at the school you’ve taught at since your arrival.

The fifteen years spent in the Denver QZ tried to steal your colors and mute your songs, joy became more difficult to find as each year behind the giant iron gates passed. The only sources of happiness were supplied by your small group of friends and your students in the desolate school you taught at. You never graduated high school, there was no pomp and circumstance, just a teaching job assigned to you because you were young and still remembered most of your high school education. That’s how your career was decided, funny how an apocalypse job search happens.

You tried to carve out as much of a life as you could under the overbearing and always watchful eyes of FEDRA soldiers, but it never felt whole. When the opportunity to leave Denver arrived thanks to your kind neighbor’s sister, you grabbed the few items you could and ran away from the only state you ever called home. Now, five years after your escape through the wasteland of the world to a better existence in Jackson, your life is now filled with art, music and purpose. Art supplied by the jars of paints you learned to make and what the patrollers bring you back. Music from the CD player in your house and the guitar you strum. Purpose from the weekdays spent teaching your impressionable students with actual well-rounded futures no longer doomed to become FEDRA fodder, along with the Saturdays spent working at the library you run out of your classroom. It's a good and comfortable life here, even if the nights are lonely and the only company you have in your small cottage are your cats Ripley and Penny. Some extra lonely nights, when the moon sits high atop the mountains, you can’t silence the thoughts that there’s nobody in your life who creates beautiful things for you. Too many nights you find yourself thinking about the man that lives down the street from you… Joel Miller.

He’s so intimidating, handsome and caged off, akin to an art piece you’d pay admission to be able to stand near. Your own little museum piece you keep to yourself now that museums are obsolete. You’ve never seen anybody more gorgeous… not even in the faded celebrity magazines you cut up to make collages and art out of. Soft and full lips always hidden under a frowning mustache that rests below a large hooked nose. His dark brown eyes often focused forward, always looking in thought underneath furrowed brows. Wavy hair that matches his eye hue with soft silver streaks painted throughout. His body is strong and broad, often hidden underneath a tan flannel lined jacket. He’s tall and big–so big–somebody who has always been a protector. His hands are also large to match the rest of his features with thick fingers that sit capable and dexterous… you can tell they’re efficient for any task you ask of them. His skin is golden, born that way and bronzed by years spent outdoors. The precious pages of your notebook quickly deplete when you try to sketch and master the lines of his face. Maybe you could get the minute details if only you could stop being so afraid of the feelings he stirs inside of you.

You’ve been enamored with him since he first showed up to Jackson– your life, and all of those feelings you’ve tried to avoid for years– upended by his presence.

It was a normal day, like any other, when you walked into the Tipsy Bison to drop off some extra shoelaces and push pins for the community swap basket. Your eyes paused at the long communal table where your friends Maria and Tommy were seated with two strangers. A small teenage girl with a tight pony tail and a tattered sweatshirt was talking animatedly with her mouth full. You know kids well after all your years of teaching, you could already spot her tenacity across the room. Sitting next to her bent over a plate of food untamely clutching a fork was a man with a mess of graying hair and a permanent scowl plastered on his handsome face. You noted his strong jaw as he chewed his food, his eyes stared straight forward void of kindness, you wondered when the last time somebody created something beautiful for him. He was the most handsome man you’d ever seen– so intimidatingly sized even in his seated and hunched stature. You quickly flitted over to the corner where the communal basket sat and deposited your items before turning around to head back to your home when you noticed the handsome stranger looking right at you. His eyes darted away right as your eyes widened at his focus before you made your hasty retreat out of the tense room. That night you wrote a song about a once warm and inviting cabin sitting in the woods now cold and desolate with tattered floor boards and a cracked window.

The girl you saw at the Bison with the handsome stranger showed up in your class the next week. Ellie quickly became your favorite student thanks to her love of art and her smart mouth. She’s always so eager to learn in the mornings before heading out with the other older kids for patrol and community training. She doesn’t shut up about your handsome stranger, he’s Joel, Texas born and raised, he’s grumpy, and he loves coffee. He’s not her father, but he’s her protector, everything she tells you makes you think about him more.

Sometimes you’ll see him walking down the road headed right towards you, a quick tuck of your head down or dash around the nearest corner helps alleviate the panic of being near him. One night you see him with Tommy at the Tipsy Bison in the corner drinking whiskey, your eyes stared unblinking before you realized how anyone could look over and see the way you’re ogling, you quickly created a reason to your friends why you needed to head home, to overwhelmed by his presence just a couple of rows down. Seeing him stirs up so many foreign emotions inside of you, but you like the rush. You like having your little crush, as long as you can keep your distance from him.

“Jeez, what were they thinking when they named these bands? The Shins? The Strokes? The Yeah Yeah Yeahs? Did every band just pick a random word and put The in front of it?” Ellie questions as she peruses your CD collection while you grade papers. With training for the older students canceled due to the winter snow outside, Ellie decided that you needed company in your classroom after school.

“Seems like it, doesn’t it?” you answer. “I’ll have to play them for you one day, those were some of my favorite bands when I was your age.”

“Really? Wicked! I’d love that!” she looks up from your CD book with an enthusiastic smile. You return her smile, happy for the bond the two of you share. “Joel loves music too, wonder if he’d like any of these.” Your pen pauses and your heart rate increases at the mention of his name, you feel foolish for the crush you have on your student’s “father.”

“I’m sure there’s something in there for everyone,” you say, stacking your papers and capping your pen. “I think we should get going, before the sun sets, El. I’ll lock up.”

“Aw man, there’s nothing to do at home,” she sighs.

“Sorry kid,” you shrug. “I’m helping Helen at the Bison tonight and I need to eat dinner beforehand.”

“Fiiiiiine, thanks for letting me hang with you, this was really fun,” she says as she grabs her backpack and jacket. “Bye Teach!”

Watching her leave, the thought plants in your head that she’s only a couple years younger than the age you were when the outbreak happened.

The world thaws when winter turns to spring, the sun stays up longer allowing patrollers a better chance to scavenge and bring their finds back. The wish list posted above the communal basket in the Tipsy Bison is filled with requests. Residents ask for a broom, a TV input cable, a glue gun, crayons, and other utilitarian items to help make life easier. You think about writing down the one thing you wish for the most, a new CD player. Your prized possession finally spun its last song a couple days ago making your home fall silent without your constant companion of music. The irony isn’t lost on you that your just as ancient guitar now lays silent against the wall, the crack on the neck finally broke from overuse. You don’t write down your main wish, instead choosing to note that the school needs chalk and you need a new oven mitt.

“Thought I told you not to touch my stereo kid,” the deep timbre of a Texas accented voice shocks you. Your heart begins to thud against your chest while goosebumps spread along your body; you’re frozen on the floor while you attempt to hide your internal panic. Joel is home. Of course he’s home, this is HIS home and you’re in it breaking HIS rules listening to your favorite mixed CD on HIS stereo system that’s much grander than your pitiful broken CD player. Why did you think letting YOUR STUDENT who’s half your age convince you this was a good idea?

“I know, relax! I’m being active in the community like you asked me to,” Ellie’s response drips with her unshakeable sarcasm.

Your head turns to find his deep brown eyes boring right into you, he gives you a half smile as you stare back at him, mouth slightly agape. Joel Miller is in Joel Miller’s house with you.

“This is the teacher I told you about, her stereo broke and I know how important music is to her–kinda like how it is to you. I invited her over so she could play me some of her stuff,” Ellie reasons. The kid is never not convincing.

You quickly stuff your CD case into your backpack and stand, trying to escape the anxiety of being here in the cozy Miller household with the not-so-cozy-looking Mr. Miller.

“Mm,” Joel grunts out before turning to you and reaching his hand out. “I‘m Joel.” His big hand envelops yours when you softly grab it to say hello.

You nervously give him your name, trying to calm your panicked heart. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to overstep any boundaries... I-I really appreciate her offering to help me. My stereo broke a couple days ago and she knew it upset me.” You nervously stammer feeling like a thirteen year old in trouble again as you begin to fiddle with the gold daisy chain around your neck.

“Don’t worry about it,” he urges before looking at Ellie, “I can look past this if it means means you’re getting out of that damn garage.”

Ellie rolls her eyes, you wonder if every conversation they have is Joel putting a rule down and Ellie breaking it. “She has way better music taste than you have old man. None of that twangy sad music you try to get me to listen to.”

You start to feel antsy as Joel crowds the small space around you.

“I-I have to head out, I promised Helen I’d help her at the Tipsy Bison.” You’re not due for another hour but you can’t fathom the idea of being unwelcome in Joel’s house.

“Oh, okay. Well, you’re welcome back whenever you want… right Joel?” Ellie looks at him, angling her eyebrow, knowing she’s going to get the answer she wants from him.

“Uh— of course. S’pose any friend of Ellie’s is welcome here,” Joel hesitates with a smile, his deep brown eyes crinkle in the corners. He’s ridiculously handsome this close, it’s staggering.

“Thank you again Ellie, I’ll see you tomorrow, make sure you bring your notebook,” you say, turning to walk out the door.

You rush home, hoping the distinct woodsy smell of Joel’s house on your clothes will linger for a while. You almost trip when you realize you’ve left your favorite mixed CD in Joel’s stereo.

Weeks pass, and the weather gets warmer. Spring is in the air, the trees are covered in bright green leaves, flowers bloom along the vast gardens of fruits and vegetables, everyone’s days turn longer with more tasks to accomplish. There’s always a hopeful breeze in the air for everyone, no longer bunkered down and locked away by the snowy weather.

Your mixed CD is now a victim of your inability to be anywhere near Joel. Either Ellie decided to keep it for herself, or Joel's decided for you that you don't want it back, especially since you obviously crossed a line. In an odd way, it’s actually a nice feeling, kind of like old times when you'd forget a CD in your friend's car or in your locker over winter break. It's not like you have anything to play it on, your house is still silent, save for the purring of your cats or whatever song you can remember to hum to yourself.

It's a warmer day than usual, the sun shines bright and hot in the clear blue sky; all you can think about is getting home and taking a long bath after helping out at the community garden. Your hurried footsteps pitter patter against the warm asphalt in front of Joel’s house. Your heart always begins to race as it comes into view, once in a while you'll get to steal a glance of him leaving for patrol at the same time you're heading to school– those are good mornings. This sweltering afternoon you’ve certainly lucked out, he’s in his yard working on repairing a broken fence post. Your steps begin to slow as you see him set the hammer down, wipe the back of his hand across his sweaty brow, and stretch his back. Panic sets in at the realization he could look right over and see you in the state you’re currently in. You’ve been up to your knees in soil since school ended, watering and deadheading plants while letting the dirt on your skin bake in the warm sun. Your anxious steps pick up pace, failing to hop over the divot in the road you always remember to avoid. A trip and a fall ends with you landing hard on your stomach knocking the wind out of you. You can just make out the fall of heavy boot steps on the ground over the sound of your lungs gasping for air as you turn over.

“Whoa whoa whoa, you okay darlin’?” Joel asks. His broad body eclipses the bright sun when he bends over your body splayed out on the pavement. “S’alright, s’alright, breathe.”

You lose even more breath at the sight of him. The sheen of sweat against his skin makes it glow bright. This is the first time you’ve seen him without a jacket or flannel, there’s a constellation of freckles on his neck you’ve never noticed. His biceps strain the fabric of his short sleeves when he reaches to put a comforting hand on your shoulder. You can’t tell if you’re still panicking from your fall or the stress of Joel seeing you as pathetic as you think you look. He called you darling and you feel like a fool.

“I’m okay–I-I’m sorry…. I’m okay,” gasps out between breaths. You whimper from pain as you attempt to stand but it hurts far too much.

“Hold on, hold on, there’s no need to rush, you took a mighty fall. Ya’ got a big cut on your knee, let me help you,” Joel’s eyes roam you under brows wrinkled with concern.

“No, no, I’m okay really, I-I’m really okay,” you try to calmly assert, losing terribly against your rising embarrassment.

“S’alright now, I have some peroxide and bandages in my house, Ellie’d kill me if she knew I left you injured,” he implores reaching his hand out. "I want to help you, come here."

“I– okay,” you grab his hand, his strong fingers wrap around yours, oh god he’s so warm, “I-I don’t want to bother you.”

“Now, I’ll have none ‘a that, come on,” he helps you stand steadying you with an arm around your waist, the adrenaline of being this close to him makes a bit of the pain fade, though the humiliation remains.

He slowly leads you up his walkway, his hand lays splayed against your hip holding you tight. Your head rests against him close enough to feel the dampness of his sweaty shirt against your cheek.

He leads you into his house, the realization isn’t lost on you that this is now the second time you’ve been inside his home. Both times you’ve felt like an idiot. What is your luck?

You slowly sit down on his couch, Joel gently helps you settle against the cushions before placing a pillow behind your back for support. "You alright?” he asks, his voice drags heavily with concern. You nod, keeping your eyes focused on your bare legs, marred by dirt and gravel mixed with blood. “Just relax for a second, I’ll go grab everything." He retreats, his loud boot steps get fainter allowing you to take a deep breath and attempt to center yourself.

The last time you were in Joel’s home you were far too anxious to focus on anything besides Ellie and the music coming out of the stereo. Solitude now allows a chance to look closely at Joel’s living room; for somebody with so many stories swirling around town about his gruffness and irritability, his home sure is warm and inviting. Wood carvings sit on shelves, a couple of tattered sports magazines lay on the coffee table, a chipped owl mug sits atop a book on the side table next to a chair. All of it presents quite domestic and comfortable for a single man and an adopted daughter in the apocalypse. Your eyes roam along the beige walls and pause when you spot a familiar painting hung near the front window. An elk stands alone, amongst a field of flowers, large antlers reach into the light blue sky. You painted it just a few months ago, using your favorite water colors. You gave it to Tommy for Christmas, as a thank you for always making sure you have first dibs of paints that patrollers bring in. Why does Joel have it?

“Don’t have any large bandages but I got a gauze roll,” Joel startles as he takes a seat atop the coffee table across from you.

“That’s my painting? I painted that… for Tommy,” your inner thoughts escape your mouth, surprising you.

He turns and follows your eyes to the small piece of paper pinned on his wall. “You painted that? S’good. Saw it on my brother’s wall and asked him if I could have it, he was kinda reluctant but I told him how it reminds me of the painting I used to have over my bed before… everything.” The last word comes out as a huff, like he still doesn't know what word to use for these last twenty years.

“I love elks, they remind me of where I’m from… I’ve always liked painting the wildlife I grew up around the most,” your eyes remain focused on your painting. “Herds of elk used to live near my Dad’s home in the mountains, I used to hear their calls during the mating season.”

“S’nice to remember those small moments, I guess your painting helps me,” he gently muses.

“I’m glad,” you whisper.

Joel delicately lifts your leg up and places it on his lap, resting it against the soft strength of his thighs. Your heart feels like it’s going to burst out of your chest when you look down at this intimate moment with your dream man. Your breaths escape your mouth in rapid succession, your only hope is Joel blames your panic on the threat of the peroxide and not his close proximity.

“S’gonna sting,” he warns before pouring the clear liquid onto your knee. Your breath catches in your throat when it hits your sensitive skin and burns. You suppress a whimper and feel slightly dizzy at the sight of him bending forward and delicately blowing on your wound. His breath cools the heat of your burning skin but lights a fire inside of your body you haven’t felt in years. He glances up, his dark brown eyes stay focused on your face. “Doin’ alright?”

You nervously chew on your bottom lip and nod. “Y-yes, yeah,” you mumble, “I-I’m okay it just hurts a lot to move.” Heaven forbid you tell him the truth, that you’re acting this way because he’s the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen, and now his hands are on you.

"I know, that gravel is a sucker," he gently reassures, picking up your other leg and placing it on top of his lap. “S’bouta sting again,” he warns.

You try to focus on the burn of the peroxide and not on Joel’s fingertips resting against the back of your knee. He blows on the peroxide as it bubbles again, your heart skips a beat when his deep brown eyes meet yours again. You get the sense that he knows exactly why you’re responding the way you are.

He lifts a faded gray wash cloth up and wipes both of your knees with the utmost tenderness. He picks up the fabric bandage, and lifts your knee higher to rest your foot against his broad chest.

“Place a finger here so I can wrap you,” Joel directs just as gently as his touch, “let me know if it’s too stiff for you.” His hand tightens around your knee as he slowly unravels the gauze around your leg and bandages your wound. “How’s that?”

You bend your leg back and forth and place it on the floor. “Feels good, thanks.”

“Course,” he says, lifting your other leg higher to start. He smirks when you place your finger on top of the bandage without him asking, and begins to wrap the gauze around your other leg.

“I’d try to take it easy the next few days, give you a chance to heal,” Joel utters, tucking the bandage in and smoothing it down.

“I will. Thanks for all your help… you really didn’t have to,” your voice cracks in embarrassment.

“You don’t have to thank me, Ellie’d kill me if she found out I left you hurt in front of my home,” he cracks a smile at the mention of her name. “She talks about you a lot, I should be thanking you for giving her a reason to love goin’ to school.”

“She’s one of the best parts of my day,” your smile matches his when you think about her smart mouth, “I love having her around, she’s always so eager to learn and give her opinion."

“She's always showing me some new art way she learned from you or talking about a band she wants to hear that you told her about. You mean a lot to her.”

“She’s a special kid.”

“She is,” he says, his deep brown eyes look into yours. You’ve never noticed just how much his dark eyes glisten. Like the perfect color of black coffee.

The sweet shared moment turns more awkward as you both maintain eye contact and nod over your shared adoration of Ellie. It feels like he’s looking at you under a microscope.

You cut the tension and softly clear your throat before slowly rising from the couch. “Well, I should get going, I’ve already taken up enough of your time. I really appreciate everything.”

“S’no problem at all,” he quickly stands and places a steadying hand on your back before leading you to the door and down his walkway.

You spy his tools laying abandoned and strewn across the lawn. “I hope I didn’t keep you from finishing your fence,” you apologize.

“I’ll manage… take care of yourself,” his hand retreats from your back when he opens the gate for you.

“Thanks Joel, you too.” You really shouldn’t have looked back at him to get one last glimpse, he’s beautiful, especially now lit by the slowly setting sun.

Walking away from him as confidently as you can, you feel his eyes follow you the whole way. You’ve never been so thankful to see your little cottage, escaping behind the protection of your front door before you grin and grab your paints and brushes. That night you paint another photo of an elk, this time with golden toned fur and deep brown eyes.

Saturday mornings are always busy, running your library never allows you the luxury to eat pancakes at the hall like everyone else on the weekends. You’re always turning to the left rushing towards the schoolhouse while everyone takes a right heading to eggs, pancakes, and coffee. This particular Saturday you’re moving slower thanks to your injured knees and the large box of books patrol brought you from their runs.

“Mornin’," Joel shouts, quickly striding towards you from the hall exit. “Lemme take those for you.”

“Oh, hi,” you pause in your tracks when he stops in front of you and grabs the box out of your hands. “You really don’t have to take–"

“None ‘a that,” he shushes, effortlessly lifting the box of books higher. "Where are we going with these?"

"Just over to the school house for the library," you nod your head towards the little brick building.

“How are the knees doing?” he asks, slowing his gait to match your slower pace.

“A lot better, thanks.”

“Glad to hear.”

You fish the key out of your pocket, unlock the door, and let Joel follow you down the hallway to your classroom. You flick the lights on, fluorescent bulbs buzz illuminating your second home.

You sit in your chair to rest your already aching knees, you’d still be halfway to the schoolhouse if it wasn’t for Joel’s kind assistance.

“You can put the box on my desk,” you direct, rubbing your sore knee.

He places the box on your desk before his eyes focus on the bright mural on the wall behind your desk. “Wow, I haven’t seen something like this in a long time. S’beautiful,” he breathes out incredulously.

A grin lifts your tired face before you swivel in your chair to look at the mural. “Goodness, thank you. I just finished it a couple of weeks ago. I really wanted to make sure the kids had something fun and colorful to focus on while in class. It was hard for me to work in this plain, white room for so long. It took a long time to save up enough paint.”

He slowly walks over and places his hand on the cold cinder block wall. “Bluebells. The flower of Texas,” he faintly whispers.

His large fingers trace the outlines of your painted indigo petals, you feel like you shouldn’t be allowed to see this type of gentle tenderness coming out of such hard and strong hands. He delicately touched you like this when he bandaged your knees. There was once softness surrounding all of Joel, the permanent grimace and rough reputation for him brought on by the harshness of existing in this world.

He turns to you, keeping his hand on your mural. “Where you from?” he asks, curiously gazing into your eyes.

“I was in the Denver QZ.”

“No, where were you from before everything?”

“Oh, sorry. Still Colorado, just more in the mountains,” you say, concentrating on the columbine flower next to the bluebell. “Florissant to be exact. It’s a little town famous for dinosaurs. My students, especially Ellie, love to hear all about dinosaurs. I was very lucky to be where I was when everything–happened–just far enough to escape.”

“Nice state, I went skiing there once as a teen, had plans to go again before… everything,” he turns to look back at the bluebells again.

“Big of a Texan to compliment Colorado,” you jest, standing up and grabbing the library supplies from your desk.

He chuckles with a shake of his head. “Good one. Did y’know you forgot your CD at my house?”

“I did, sorry about that. I figured Ellie just decided to keep it for herself. I don't mind, not like I have anything to play it on right now,” your voice drops thinking about how long it’s been since you’ve heard your favorite songs.

You begin to place down your hand painted placards on the tables.

He walks over and picks one of the cards up and admires it. “Can I help you?”

“If you want, just pick up a pile of books and put them on their respective tables. Children’s, Mystery, Romance, Non-Fiction, Sci-Fi, Miscellaneous.”

He dutifully picks up a stack of books. “You do this by yourself?”

“Usually, I sometimes have help but I think everyone here works so hard during the week they like their slow Saturdays, I can’t ask them to give up sleeping in.”

“Sleeping in, must be nice. Can’t do such a thing. Ellie would sleep all day if I allowed her.”

“You’re right,” you say, squeezing by him to grab a pile of books. “Must be nice.”

He holds up a thick paperback with yellow pages and a burgundy cover, a muscled, orange toned man with long blonde hair holds a wispy brunette damsel. “I take it with a title like ‘Burning Tenderness’ it goes in romance?” Joel winks. You’d never imagine you would ever see someone like him joke.

“Well, I’d fire you on the spot if you placed it in non-fiction.”

His bellowing laugh echoes across your classroom. You like hearing him laugh.

The library is set up a half hour before opening thanks to yours and Joel’s expeditious work.

You take a seat on the edge of your desk to rest your knees. “I’ve never gotten done this early before. Between your help earlier this week and today I feel like I owe you something. Is there any way I could repay you for your kindness?”

He sighs, glancing back at your mural. “Those bluebells you painted,” he inhales a large breath, “do you think you could paint some of those for me in my house?”

“Oh my, I’d love to,” your face lights with a smile. You can’t believe he’s asking this of you. “I can start it anytime.”

“D’you want to come over Monday after you’re done at the school? I told Ellie I’d spend the day with her tomorrow.”

“That sounds great,” you reply, not believing your luck that Joel Miller is inviting you over to his house.

“Great. Should probably head out and start my day. Taking this as payment for my work today,” he says holding up a book.

“‘As I Lay Dying?’ Didn’t pin you as a Faulkner fan,” you muse, opening your logbook to note the title down.

“Liked the horse on the cover.”

“You’re so Texas. It’s a good book, enjoy it Joel.”

“See you Monday. Good luck today.”

“Yes, Monday,” you respond, trying not to smile too hard. “Thanks again for all your help.”

“Course,” he nods before walking out the door.

Today’s going to be a great day, it already started out better than you ever could have hoped.

Back home after a busy day you sit in your favorite chair with your cats on your lap and sketch bluebells until you fall asleep with your pencil in hand.

See The Road You're On (Joel's Version)

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #joel miller x you #joel miller/reader #pedro pascal #joel miller fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #tlou fanfic #elks #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #joel miller tlou #joel fic #joel tlou fic #joel x reader

234 notes · View notes

innuendostudios · 5 months ago

Text

youtube

by a wide margin the weirdest video essay I've ever release: List of Songs that Represent "Smart Music" Ranked from Most to Least Appropriate to Put in a Video Essay

this video is sponsored by Nebula, where you can watch ad-free and (sometimes, slightly) better edited versions of my videos for 40% off an annual subscription. just follow this link.

as a quick note: YouTube has already demonetized this video, as two different corporations are claiming copyright on recordings they do not own the copyright to - both are Creative Commons recordings of public domain music, that, in one case, YouTube has misidentified as a different recording, and, in the other, YouTube has the music in its database as under copyright despite it being having been released under CC BY-SA 3.0. I am disputing these false claims and will (hopefully) get whatever money I am owed, but, for now, YouTube is not paying me a dime for this.

so it would be a bigger help than usual if you would either watch the video on Nebula or back me on Patreon.

thanks. transcript below the cut!

List of Songs That Represent “Smart Music” Ranked From Most To Least Appropriate To Put In A Video Essay (And Presented In Drill Bit Order).

1. Clair de Lune, Debussy

This has been top dog ever since the teaser for Godzilla: King of the Monsters, and cemented its position against challengers with a showcase in Everything Everywhere All at Once. Said film could have been the shark-jumping moment where the song was irretrievably lost to irony, given directors Kwan and Scheinert (Daniels)’s style mercilessly marries the aesthetics of prestige and shitpost. Yes, despite its silliness, EEAAO is achingly sincere, but could the general public be trusted to recognize that? But then it won Best Picture, so apparently yes! Beautiful, delicate, to score a film or video with Clair de Lune signals a desire to be seen not only as an intellectual, but as an aesthete. The song could lose potency if the Clair de Lune sequence were parodied enough, but how does one parody EEAAO???

9. Gymnopedie No. 1, Satie

I fear we must, as a society, and as a community of video essayists, move on from Gymnopedie No. 1. It held the title longer than, I think, any champion previous, and for that it deserves merit. But its time is over. It is, like the phrase “mad dated,” mad dated. It is saying “lmao” out loud. Did you know the original screenplay for 2005 film The Island specifically stated that, in the weird culty enclave in which the film opens, Gymnopedie No. 1 must be playing over the loudspeaker? I don’t think Michael Bay followed that directive (I’m not rewatching the movie to find out), but that is how long this was the “Smart Music” song - since 5 months after YouTube launched. If you must - absolutely must - put Satie in a video essay, use Gnossienne No. 1, though it too is on its way to passe. At this point I’m prepared to say Vexations or GTFO.

2. Ave Maria, Schubert/Liszt

Nothing was certain after Satie vacated the throne, and for a while it seemed we might have a Starks vs. Baratheons situation between Schubert and Debussy. Following several appearances in pretentious YouTube videos, the Ave Maria made its strongest showing yet by scoring the opening scene of the grimdarkest Batman film so far, an entire twenty days before getting fully Lannister’d by Everything Everywhere All at Once. Unbowed, unbent, and unbroken, still she nips at the heels of the king, and may yet take his place. No one else poses a comparable threat. Hers is a curious strategy, being a religious, Christmas, and even classic Disney standard now repurposed as “Smart Music;” she gets a big boost every December, but can she take the top spot before this cyclical exposure nudges her back into a prior niche?

8. Moonlight Sonata, Beethoven

If you were in a film program in the mid-2000s, you are sick to death of Moonlight Sonata. Also if you were in a music class where you were asked to determine a song’s time signature by ear - how am I supposed to tell the difference between waltz time and 4/4 with all triplets without the sheet music in front of me? To say scoring a video with Moonlight Sonata is a hack move - you’d have to be a hack to not already know! This was the soundtrack to the blind cave salamander level of Earthworm Jim 2, there’s no coming back from that! I mean, the association with Tallarico Studios alone… It’s done. Roll over, Beethoven.

3. Cello Suite No. 1 (Prelude), Bach

This one is firmly-rooted. It is not going anywhere, both in the sense that nothing could soon push it off the list but it’s hard to imagine rising any higher. It is just slightly too beautiful, too expressive, too legato to fall into the stiffness of Habanera or the pomposity of a De Beers ad, but just close enough to them in tone to always read as a hipper alternative. So you’ll never be overexposed, but never go that long without hearing the Yo-Yo Ma version. And so here it stays, third on the podium, solid bronze, the waterbender, the Plup; with you as always is Prelude to Cello Suite No. 1. (Frankly surprised it took us this long to get to Johann, but don’t worry - he’ll be Bach.)

7. Air on the G String, Bach/Wilhelmj

Told ya. It’s not that she isn’t a beautiful piece of music, and it’s not that she already had her time. In truth, she never got her flowers. Inasmuch as she had a run, it was squished between the omnipresences of Beethoven and Satie. You’ll still hear from her now and then; she crops up, like a lucky penny. And you’ll smile, every time, but you know the stars in your eyes are not present joy, but nostalgia. A fondness for what was and what could’ve been - what should have been. Why - why couldn’t this have had the legs of Gymnopedie? I mean, even the Fucking Champs version - could that have made a run? Could TikTok pick up on it? But comes the day you have to accept - if it was gonna happen, it would’ve happened by now. Air on the G String grows weary; let her rest.

4. Duo des Fleurs, Delibes

Bit of a dark horse, this one. Didn’t exactly come out of nowhere - it’s been here the whole time - but you didn’t see it coming! It’s like that time I went snorkeling, and I wondered, “Where are the fish?” I was told there would be tropical fish, but all I saw was blue. Then I caught one flitting by my head and, as soon my eyes registered the shape, I realized they were everywhere! I just hadn’t taken them in. This is the one that makes you ask, where did I hear that before? Was this the one at the end of Margaret? No! How did it go? How do I hum dyads? But then it shows up and, oh yeah, that’s the one! The really pretty one. I knew it’d come around again. Has staying power, could make a run for the top if it sees an opening, but seemingly content, for now, to dance around the periphery, appreciated when heard if only half-remembered the next day.

6. Prelude in E Minor Op. 28 No. 4, Chopin

The bottom end of acceptability. Anything lower, you must avoid. But you can use Prelude in E. It is a risk, and it takes skill. But you can use Prelude in E. It is not for the faint of heart. This is the ending of Fez we’re talking about here. This is that one TED Talk about how everyone loves classical music they just don’t know it yet. This was all over Anatomy of a Fall. Are you sure you wouldn’t prefer something lighter? Nocturne in E-flat [Op. 9 No. 2] is very nice. Prelude has just enough penetration that some people are going to recognize it, and enough clout that those who do are going to expect things of the person who puts it in a video essay. You can’t just throw this under a rant about The Snyder Cut. But you can - with care, with effort, and with grace - use Prelude in E.

5. Spiegel im Spiegel, Part

We are not ready for Spiegel im Spiegel. The rare “Smart Music” that is, rather than classical, contemporary minimalist. This is - I have been led to believe - all over the film festival circuit. It is the go-to for aspiring arthouse directors. So I assume it is only a matter of time until it reaches general cultural awareness. But we - the YouTube video essay community - are not, at this point in time, pretentious enough to pull off Spiegel im Spiegel. This is not a statement on the song: it is a lovely, sparse, and unpretentious piece of music, which is why pretentious people are drawn to it. And we are not there yet. But I believe in us.

POSTSCRIPTUM

The List of Songs that Represent “Smart Music” is not ranked by quality; they are all, as a baseline, masterpieces. They are ordered, instead, by their possession of antipodal qualities. Beethoven’s Fifth may be a beautiful piece but it’s too well-known - to the casual listener, it reads only as “classical music.” Vltava is a beautiful piece, but it’s not recognizable enough - to most, it will read only as “music.” Pachelbel’s Canon works in too many contexts. Mozart’s Lacrimosa no longer works in any context but “Shit’s About To Go Off.” The Song that Represents “Smart Music” must balance these humors: suggestive, but not too specific; recognizable, but not overfamiliar. The kind of thing one imagines cultured people listen to, and fancies oneself cultured for having noticed it. Just popular enough to signify obscurity to a large number of people.

This impossibility of being both popular and obscure is what keeps the list in motion. Many songs drift back into obscurity before reaching the top, but, once in the primary position, a song begins its slow procession to overexposure. And when, at last, it is too popular to be niche, it does not slip to number 2; it plummets to the bottom, as did Icarus.

Due to this slow but constant movement, new songs will, at intervals, join the ranks, taking the place of those that became gauche. And if, dear listener, you were aiming to trendset, to score your next whatever-it-is-you-do with the newest Song to Represent “Smart Music,” and were I a gambling man… Bach’s Prelude in C. And I’ll tell you why: it appears in the Netflix series Bodies alongside Chopin (#6), mirroring Satie’s dual appearance in The Queen’s Gambit (#9); its arpeggiated structure makes it usable in scenarios similar to the Cello Suite (#3) (Johann did love him some broken chords); and it forms the basis of the Gounod version of Ave Maria, if you would like a Cool Person’s Alternative to Schubert (#2). You may feel I’m playing too safe, but I tell you truly: this song is due. But if I can impart one piece of wisdom let it be this: whatever you do, whoever you are, you cannot use Fur Elise. You cannot. You can’t do it. It can’t be allowed. Don’t fu-

#video essay #Youtube

71 notes · View notes

ovaryacted · 8 months ago

Note

do you think re4make leon knows how to fuck? 👀

The little eye emoji at the end is making me laugh. But hmm, I've actually thought of this before in-depth, and if I'm gonna be completely honest...probably not. HOLD ON HOLD ON! HEAR ME OUT FIRST DON'T BOO ME OFF THE STAGE!

So in my mind (keyword: my), I don't think Leon would know how to "fuck". He's just not a #realfucker. HOWEVER, that does not mean he is an idiot when it comes to sex and what to do. He just doesn't have enough "experience" that would put him in a category of people who are masters in the bedroom, and that is okay! Frankly, I think it's more realistic and sticks to his loser persona.

I mean, we are dealing with a 27/28-year-old man with immense trauma and survivor's guilt who's been blackmailed into military service and literally thinks about dying frequently. He's in Spain fighting demons both literally and figuratively and has one foot in the grave at all times. No, I don't think he knows how to fuck, he probably hasn't even really done anything that would qualify as "fucking" in a healthy way.

He'd probably have limited chances to actually get involved with anyone, especially if he was being trained to the degree he was. Also, if he was under Krauser's supervision and being trained by him as a means of survival, he doesn't know anything about another human's touch outside of obligation. Not to mention the context of the period he was in the military (close to the early 2000s I think), he probably experienced a fuck ton of homophobia for being a "pretty boy" anyway and that would be a direct jab to his wavering self-confidence.

If anything, he's probably had some quick blowjobs or given them, but actual sex? Nah, his brain can't comprehend doing something like that when he's too busy wondering if he'll live to see another day.

Let us say he was allowed to fuck somebody, I think he would be clueless on where to start or what to do. Sure, Leon is smart and perceptive, he'll be able to adapt eventually, but it won't be a natural process. I made an analysis post about this topic a while ago, about viewing Leon as a sex god when he's the complete opposite in my mind, and I always come back to that because that's how I interpret him.

Does he know where the clit is? Does he know what to do with a dick? Sure, he knows enough about the female and male body to understand what to touch and what goes where. The thing he doesn't know is how to do it in a way that makes both parties feel good, and how it varies from person to person. Has he watched porn or looked through magazines? Probably back when he was a hormonal teenager with nothing better to do, or before he found himself in his current situation, but he doesn't like it. He doesn't see women in particular in the same light as every other form of media views them, so his perception of sex and how it should be done contradicts the norm. Or, he just assumes that he should know what to do, and since he doesn't or can't seem to figure it out, he doesn't bother trying to find out.

He doesn't give me those vibes that he's someone who would know what to do in the bedroom off that bat, and I'm not saying that to be a bummer but that's how I see him at least during this part of his life. But, if you trust him and make him feel comfortable enough by reassuring him as you guide him in the process, he will know how to fuck but primarily know how to fuck you.

Even if I say he doesn't know how to fuck (outside of the regular missionary but he finishes too early so it's embarrassing), he will always be a munch to me. That is his skill in the bedroom, his thing. I always say this but to me, the reason why he doesn't know how to fuck is because he's too damn busy diving headfirst into some pussy so he doesn't care about the whole "fucking" aspect of things. He gets off on getting his partners off, that's just the truth, my truth and I'm sticking to it.

#ovaryacted asks #just some real shit on the timeline idk #don't fight with me though #cause I know y'all like to tussle #and I'm letting you know I said what I said #leon kennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon s kennedy #ovaryacted thoughts

121 notes · View notes

piyushflip · 11 months ago

Text

Buy-

AMAZFIT GTS 4 SMARTWATCH- Flipzoneonline.com

Buy now- https://flipzoneonline.com/product/amazfit-gts-4-smartwatch/

Amazfit GTS 4 can automatically recognize the movements and count the reps of dozens of strength training exercises, many of which have adjustable variations in the Zepp App, as well as track your rest time between sets.

Includes 150+ sports modes and after your workout, the Zepp App will show you the muscle group you exercised and how long you exercised it for, keeping your training efficient.

Amazfit GTS 4 Smartwatch uses industry-leading dual-band circularly-polarized GPS antenna technology, for stronger positioning that’s as accurate as handheld GPS locators.

Whether you’re hiking a tree-covered trail or cycling to work through a congested city center, enjoy positioning that’s unimpeded by environmental and multi-path interference. You can even import a route file to the watch from the Zepp App and navigate your way along it in real-time.

Immerse yourself in the ultra-large 1.75″ AMOLED display, and view the data that matters to your wellness journey in pristine HD clarity

Enjoy highly-accurate 24-hour monitoring of heart rate, blood-oxygen saturation and stress levels. The watch can also detect your breathing rate, and is able to quickly measure these four important health metrics in one easy tap.

Color – Infinite Black

#smart watch in amazon #smart watch band #smart watch on amazon #smart watch online #smart watch huawei #smart watch under 5000 #smart watch under 2000 #amazfit bip u #amazfit bip u smartwatch #amazfit bip u pro #amazfit bip u pro review #amazfit bip u watch faces #amazfit bip u features

0 notes

rubyredridinghood · 8 months ago

Text

Satoru Gojo Headcannons!

Type: General Headcannons/ 100% SFW (18+ blogs please dni :3)

Warnings: brief mentions of SatoSugu

• When his undercut is grown out, the little hairs curl around his nape; his hair curls a little bit when it gets hot

• No crumb left behind when eating snacks - will lick his fingers and then stick them back in the chip bag until it is completely hollow; makes insufferable asmr lip smacking sounds

• Does the daily wordle and thinks way too hard about it - sometimes he competes with Nanami to see who can get it first

• Comments Jujutsu Tech under CNN 10 every morning for a shoutout

• Only drinks iced coffee nuked in creamer and caramel drizzle

• “platonically” cuddled with Suguru in high school after long days because it made him happy (they were in love)

• Doesn’t understand why washing machines have so many modes and cycles

•Has one of those smart washers that you have to hold the start button down for 3 seconds and be always gets frustrated and accidentally turns it off and yells at it

•Watches it go

•Still sits at the oven and watches stuff bake like a little kid

•Uses uncooked pasta noodles to check if it baked all the way through

• Brought Tsumiki weekly flowers for her hospital room like that one guy on Tiktok

•Watches Big Brother with Yuji and Nobara

• The first movie he watched after the kfc breakup was Bring It On because that was all that was on TV - loves it to this day

•listens to early 2000’s cuntry on occasion (Think before he cheats)

• Doesn’t know how to properly fold clothes since he never had to do chores as a kid

•Goes to bath and body works with Nobara and offers to be her perfume/lotion tester

• Just wants to be held by someone because he’s been dehumanized for being the strongest and wants to be vulnerable for a little while :(

• The friend that always has a charger

• Sunburns very easily and looks hilarious with a farmers tan

• Owns little pink bunny slippers that are always by his bedside

•Also uses those soft skincare headbands because they’re comfy

•owns a comfy

• Knows all the lyrics to hi bich by bhad bhabie

• Not only uses lip gloss but has a collection - his favorites are the flavored and scented ones

•Never opens his umbrella inside because he believes wholeheartedly that it’s bad luck

• Used to wear socks with Nike slides as a teenager

• Knows how to do a back handspring and accidentally took Nanami out with one in high school

•Unironically sends Megumi millennial memes

•Holds the door open for grandmas

• Really enjoys advice from the elderly since nobody will even try to humble him since he’s the strongest

• Stayed in Geto’s room after the breakup until his things lost his scent - also kept his clothes and personal items

• Records videos of Megumi singing In the shower

• Says ‘Kobe’ when he throws stuff in the trash

#jjk headcanons #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo satoru #satoru gojo headcanons #gojo headcanons #jjk gojo #jjk fluff #gojo fluff

60 notes · View notes

jayalaw · 1 year ago

Text

Fanfic: If Death Note Happened in Discworld And Vimes Went Up Against Kira

@forthegothicheroine, thank you for this idea!

Let's be real, Terry wouldn't have pitted someone like Kira against Samuel Vimes because Kira and Death Note came out in the 2000s. We also don't have that many stories with supernatural killers that go after the guilty.

But let's suppose what the Discworld novel would be...

Death finds himself working overtime. He gets annoyed when seeing random criminal getting offed, because it is more than usual. There are the usual plagues and wars and holiday depressions, but this doesn't fit the pattern. He knows that no plague causes just a heart attack. The hourglasses are rattling in his realm. It is a disturbance.

Meanwhile the Thieves Guild and Assassins Guild send representatives to the Watch. They're here under truce. Someone has been killing off their licensed thieves and killers. The Assassins don't have proof, but only the "criminals" of the city have been targeted, the ones with licenses. Somehow the unlicensed ones and those that can hide in the Seam get away with their crimes. It is something political.

Vimes asks the obvious question: why not go to Vetinari? He handles the politics in the city. Because Vetinari would say it is a police matter. Someone is violating the law by committing murder, and refusing to answer for it. They can't figure out how, and know it's not the wizards at Unseen University doing experiments because it's not their style. Wizards are chaotic and frivolous. This is too orderly, too...cold.

The guilds are scared. The heads wouldn't admit it, but Carrot, who is sitting in on the meeting, can sense it. He and Vimes note twitchy fingers that would rather be penciling in burglary dates or shooting targets. The guild heads are not scared of death itself, but that someone wants them all dead, and they don't know the reason. There has to be a reason.

Vimes considers everyone in the Watch, and who may be best for the task force that he promises will investigate these deaths. He knows that magic exists; heck, they have a zombie on the Watch. Death also has had many near-Vimes experiences with the commander. Something is going on. If this is someone killing criminals, without letting them stand trial or respecting the laws that he fought to respect, it is someone that has no Inner Watchman. Vimes knows how easy it is to slip into justifying killing of the innocent. He has to uphold the Guarding Dark.

Reg Shoe becomes head of the task force. Vimes reasons that if the killer decides to go for the cops, they can't kill someone who is already dead. Reg is an intimidating face, someone who has long refused to die. When the Times show up for a quote, Vimes uncharacteristically tells them that he will be leading the task force to investigate these killings. It's not a lie; he is the leader of the Watch, and he is in charge of Reg Shoe. Vimes also orders that Igor is put on the Task Force.

Light Yagami in this world would be from another town, one where he has seen the dark side of broken justice systems. His father is the commander, who has maintained a consistent order. While Light wants to join his father on the side of the law, he does have a penchant for magic. So he attends Unseen University, on a scholarship that he earned with his studies. Classmates notice that he fills his dormitory with apples, more than a person can eat. He has a single, so no roommate can wonder why he's not sharing his cider experiments.

Ankh-Morpork is Light's testing grounds. In this version, he is smart enough to not kill that many criminals on his home turf. Sure there were a few. After all, he didn't know if he was forfeiting his immortal soul. But now he knows that no one can trace the campaign back to him, ever. Plus, the common thieves and vandals are barely older than him. It doesn't feel sporting to go after petty theft when that person may still turn their life around.

Susan is teaching at finishing school. She also reads the Times during her breaks. The newspaper has taken to reporting on arrests and society figures. She notices the large amounts of death reported. Susan's lip curls as she reads about heart attack after heart attack. Her grandfather will not be pleased. Sure enough, the raven and Death of Rats knock at the door. Death has Binky at the moment, so no horse rides for Susan this time.

She is very vexed by this. The more that Susan uses her powers, the less human she becomes. But she senses a malice to these murders.

Albert and Susan reconvene in Death's realm. With Death working overtime, he's barely had time to visit. Susan notices some haphazard cat beds. Albert explains that Death has been building stuff again, and thinking about pulling kittens out of time, so they will stay young and loved. Susan makes a mental note to visit more often, so that Grandfather is less lonely.

What could be causing the theories? An instrument of a shinigami, Albert believes. Shinigami, or death "gods" as Albert explains, are only a concept. Some cultures do worship the dead, and they believe in gods to make them less scared of it. In the case of shinigami, they are meant to represent the fears that some people have of death, that it's a terrifying thing. If a wizard believes in a shinigami, then they come to life. And they may be able to work together, if a shinigami gives a wizard his tools. That would be quite a dangerous bargain.

Susan remembers when someone stole Death's sword and tried stabbing her through the stomach. She shivers. Grandfather would never give such a powerful weapon to a mortal. There's no telling what they would do with it. Even when she borrowed Binky or used the sword, she was always very careful.

Albert tells Susan that Death needs her in Ankh-Morpork. He needs human eyes on the ground, to find the shinigami and his tools. Susan protests that she has a job, and kids to watch. It's not like the world is ending. Albert indicates the rattling hourglasses. Maybe the world isn't ending, but it will suffer some cracks in reality. Susan returns to her job, pondering. She hopes that Grandfather is okay.

This isn't a world of modern technology. Light has no access to television news or radio that would tell him who is a killer and who isn't. His father had been experimenting with adding photographs to arrest warrants. Photography is such a remarkable technology, one that allows you to see faces, even from a great distance away. And with newspapers, you can attach names to faces.

In Ankh-Morpork, Ryuk tells Light about the shinigami eyes. He can find anyone's name and face. All he has to do is give up half his years on the Disc. Light smirks and says that he isn't giving up half his life when he plans to be ruling this Disc, with rules that will make life better for the commoners and enforce proper justice rather than compromises. Besides, he doesn't have to know who everyone is, just who is in jail or accused. The Thieves Guild has an open record, with names, and the Times likes to keep photos of them. He also knows that wizards are good at scrying and seer work. Light manages to make a crystal ball that allows him to watch over the city. He may not have names yet, but he does have faces. One name and face led to him getting the ledgers of the thieves in the Guild, as well as the assassins. It's a waiting game, in-between his studies and new job. Plus, Ryuk's love for apples keeps him on a leash. He has promised to kill Light last, when the game is over. Light has to keep entertaining him, but also knows when to withhold apples.

The Times in the meantime is reporting on the murders, or as they're calling it, the "Hearts Epidemic". William De Worde is also seeking student correspondents from Unseen University. When Light Yagami volunteers, and shows interest in learning photography, it seems like a miracle. Light is charming, diligent and hardworking. His columns about the Unseen University happenings please all parties by hinting at the experiments going on, and discussing student life. The young journalist also knows his football. He reports accurate sports and stats.

William gets wind of the Watch's theory that this is some supernatural killer. He asks for ideas from the newsroom about what moniker to give this killer, for an image that strikes both fear and fascination. Light keeps quiet, as the other journalists toss around ideas. They mention the killer may be a human, dwarf, elf, or even an Igor. Every Igor and Igorina worth their salt has experience working with the dead. Gaspode comes in with information; because Light cannot believe that a dog can talk despite having a shinigami next to him in the room, Gaspode senses all is not right.

When Moida is chosen, from the Seam pronunciation of "Murder," Light very much wants to wince. He would have chosen something far more grandiose. But he is the new columnist, and it's better for no one to notice him. He also knows that the Watch has been asked to look for this series of killings, and investigate.

Light has no plans to kill Samuel Vimes. The man is a father, with a loving wife and a young toddler. Plus, both father and son are named Sam Vimes, according to the society papers. He doesn't want to kill the child by accident when writing the name in the notebook. Light has some standards.

Ryuk pouts; Light is no fun. Light stands fast, however. Children are off-limits. and he has other ways to entertain the shinigami.

Vimes is not pleased that this killer has been given a name or profile. He had just mentioned it was a task force. The Times always exaggerates, because they want people to buy stories. Still, it could be worse, and Moida gives the illusion that the killer may be from the Seam. Vimes considers if a poor person would be killing this many thieves and assassins; he dismisses the thought because the thieves leave the poor people alone, and no assassins go after those in the Seam. Still, it's a red fish, like in the books Young Sam has gotten into recently. Red fishes always point the reader in the wrong direction.

Carrot sometimes checks in on Death as a witness. This time, he brings some material for the cat tree, scratchy material that will entertain furballs no matter how it's mangled. No one asks questions when he approaches the hospital's terminal wing with a carpet that has seen better days. Death may have mentioned his latest creative project the last time that Carrot talked with Death about another case, about the murder of a witch in the Seam. Carrot had remembered to bring Death's favorite blend of tea that time. Death is technically not supposed to offer this testimony. But he likes tea, and he is perturbed by this many deaths by heart attack.

The game is on, to find this killer. Susan reads the news, and patrols the cities at night when she isn't teaching her kids, watching for thieves that suddenly drop dead. Light wishes to find out who in the Watch is investigating, and takes whatever information that William can squirrel out of Vimes. Vimes insists that he is the one in charge, and doesn't want a wizard near the station when William asks if the Unseen University is going to provide their input on the case. Deputizing the Librarian was a one-time necessity.

Reg and Igor find the pattern: all of the criminals who were killed were on record. They were on the ledgers, and the assassin and thief in charge of each ledger are also dead. They didn't die of heart attacks, though; the assassin in question had slipped in a rain puddle and broke his neck. The thief had tried a burglary and got trapped by a suffocating chimney.

The coppers consider this. It doesn't add up; assassins are trained to be careful. No thief employed by the guild would get caught in a broken chimney. Whoever is doing these killings is smart, and dangerous. They also aren't limited to heart attacks.

It has to be magic. And there are few witches in Ankh-Morpork, with none having a body count. Their suspect is at Unseen University. Most likely a student from this year, because the killings only started with the term.

Now we can't go into every particular shenanigan that Terry would write here. Or this fic would never end. But a game of cat-and-mouse would start, as Carrot also makes inquiries at the university, and he is willing to talk to the press when needed. Moida alas cannot infiltrate the task force, even if he asked his dad for help. Sam Vimes does not believe in connections to get on the force, unless he has absolutely no choice. This time he has a choice. Light has to rely on his scrying since Ryuk refuses to help. Apple bribes and blackmail do not push Ryuk that far.

It comes out that Moida can't kill more than a few members of the watch; Carrot has a dwarf name and a human name, and Moida only knows his human name. Plus, Carrot and his family often misspell their last name. All of those spellings -- and none-- are correct. There are only so many variations that Moida can try to write. If only he knew that Discworld narrative causality protected Carrot. The same goes for Reg Shoe and Igor-- Reg's heart has long since stopped a while ago. And trying to kill an Igor, when they are all named Igor? Good luck with that. The Death Note has no effect on any of tPlan Bhree men.

Moida goes for Plan B: the werewolf. Everyone is certain it is that watchman Nobby Nobbs. Werewolves are easy to manipulate with the power of scent and suggestion. So he writes Nobby Nobbs's name in the notebook, imagining a great beast that will do his bidding. If all goes well, the werewolf will get the names of the folk on the task force who are mortal with only one name, and all the information that the Watch has on Moida. Then the beast will rampage through the city, and has to get shot.

Moida is smart, but he got the wrong person. And the Death Note cannot make impossible deaths happen.

When Nobby collapses on patrol, Susan notices because she is also patrolling. She realizes that there is magic, and manipulates time to try and save Nobby's heart. It doesn't work, and Grandfather appears. It's time for Nobby Nobbs's reaping.

"It's not fair!" Susan bursts out. "He was just...walking! Doing his duty!" Why would the murderer go after him?"

"That's what I want to know," Nobby Nobbs says, scratching his head. "Not saying I have a strong heart, but it's supposed to be stronger stuff than this."

Susan sees the magic trail on the body. It's faint, but it leads her to Gaspode. Gaspode tells the strange lady that if she has a good meal for him, he will be a good boy and tell her what he has noticed. She asked what he thinks of children's biscuits. He loves them, especially warmed by the fire.

The Watch is morose without Nobby Nobs; coppers expected to die saving people, or putting out fires. Vimes arranges a pension for Nobbs's girlfriend, and his family. Reg makes sure to tend the man's funeral. Now it's personal; Moida went after one of them.

There is also one unfortunate side effect of getting rid of the Thieves Guild: burglary increases, almost as it to spite Light's idea of justice. Less trained assassins who were unable to train with the guild are trying their hands at botched killing. The Watch has to work hard to protect the innocent, and to ensure Vimes has time to spend with young Sam. Ryuk can't help but rub it in that Light's campaign for a world with more order and less crime has only caused more chaos, that he is spreading fear that he cannot control. Light insists that it's part of his plan. It's not like Ryuk has noticed anyone following him, like when Ryuk spotted the dog Gaspode begging Light for treats. Light did feed the dog but told him to clear off; he had studies.

Gaspode is a dog of his word; he leads Susan to where the magic scent trail ends, at an Unseen University's dormitory. The biscuit crumbs on his snout, he confides that he smells the same magic at the Times. Confused, Susan thinks that no journalist at the times is skilled in magic and the vampire there likes photography more. Gaspode mentions that a wizard student joined the staff, before he goes to play with some drunken students that are delighted on seeing a "puppy".

Ryuk spots Susan first. She realizes what he is, but cannot see his weapon, and they are both invisible. He presses a finger to his lips, indicating Light studying at his desk. Susan considers, for Nobby Nobbs. She can sense the magic rushing out of him, the ones that is making the hourglasses rattle. Susan swears she can see the bolts dancing through the air, past the windows. More deaths, more criminals dying by heart attack.

Bingo; Susan has found their killer, and his shinigami. But she doesn't know the weapon or how to confiscate it. Even if this boy left for classes, he could take the weapon with him, no matter how she searched his dormitory. Ryuk could easily rat her out; she knows that look of mischief. He has been letting all this chaos happen, with no remorse. Grandfather was never that careless.

Susan sighs. She will have to miss classes again tomorrow. Albert will know about shinigami weapons, in Death's realm.

Of course, Susan is not the only informant who has spotted these issues; Gaspode has not returned to the Times yet. He reports his findings to Angua, while asking if she's still going to marry Carrot. Angua shoos him away but considers.

Angua and Vimes debate: they have the word of one informant, and no murder weapon or motive. From what Vimes can see in university transcripts and the Times, Light is a bright young man. He seems genuinely concerned with the welfare of others. They could try arresting him, but the proof is not strong enough. If they are wrong, the Watch will have betrayed its code.

Vimes decides on his riskiest plan: invite Light to the Watch house and properly interview him for being a copper on the Task Force as he wished. Identify him for any tells, and see if Angua can smell the magic on him, or the Moida murder trails. It could be really dangerous, having a killer right in that space.

Sybil fortunately has a more sensible option: meet with Light for tea in a public place. She can watch Young Sam, and her husband won't be risking the Watch's lives. The Patrician has a particular teahouse where he likes to go with Mr. Fusspot. They love dogs there.

Light is so surprised that Vimes has changed his mind, and considers the Watch is onto him. It was bad luck that the Death Note didn't work on the werewolf. He has a pocket-watch where he keeps pages of the Death Note. Ryuk may snigger that he's willing to kill a child, but Light has other plans.

Angua is the perfect watchdog for Vimes, lying down for a seeming nap under the table. She notes the pocketwatch doesn't match those of typical wizards, and her ears do not hear any ticking. Perhaps that is the weapon. Light clutches it.

Susan is also there; Gaspode had come to inform her, in exchange for biscuits, where the boy would be the next day. She needed to know, after she and Albert concocted a plan.

The chaos emerges when Vimes asks Light what his father thinks of Moida. Soichiro Yagami, according to Light, believes that Moida is a spoiled teenager, affluent who does not care about other people. He has been disgusted by the sheer amount of death. Light knows that this lie will hold because it is based in truth. He also has plans for an alibi: more deaths during this outing, spread out into the Seam. Only a few names from scrying, but they would be enough.

Vimes admits that the loss of Nobby Nobbs has been hard. Moida went after a good man, and for seemingly no reason. Light seethes internally, thinking how a good man was against his campaign for true justice. But he asks what Vimes thinks of Moida.

The Commander doesn't have to wait; he chooses his words. He says that he has seen good men die for the wrong reasons, and bad men live to an old age. But when you have the power to kill someone that cannot fight back, and you slaughter them anyway, you are evil. No inner watchman can save you.

Angua does not bite, even in werewolf form. But when Light under the table slips paper out of the pocketwatch, she doesn't have to think, just grab it with her teeth and pull. She hears laughter and witnesses the shinigami, as well as the stern woman who appears in the tea shop screaming "Albert, NOW!"

Somehow, they all end up in Death's realm. Death is there, looking at the hourglasses. Albert has finished the summoning ritual, the reverse of the one that he used to summon Death.

"THIS IS UNFORTUNATE," Death says, looking at Light. "YOU HAVE BEEN CAUSING ME A LOT OF TROUBLE."

Ryuk cackles and Light glares back.

"I'm doing you a favor," he says. "I'm making a world based on justice."

Angua has the pocketwatch in her teeth, the proof. She doesn't dare change back. The shinigami is eyeing her with fascination. She can now smell him.

"A world where criminals fear an early death is not justice; it creates a reign of terror," Susan says. "You had the power of someone's life in your hands, and chose to take it, over and over again. Like a child frying ants with a piece of glass."

"Your father would be disappointed in you," Vimes remarks, thinking of Young Sam. He will have to do all he can to ensure his son never becomes a killer. Sam is still in his poo phase, so that had to be a good sign.

Light of course has another trump card: his other notebook pages, that he has hidden on his person. He attempts to write in them, for Sam Vimes. He knows that name, and he will finally kill this man. What does it matter if he kills the child with the father? Soichiro would understand, this need for a new world. His father would want one that dominates justice.

This time he doesn't make it that far; Susan whacks him with the haphazard cat tree that had ladders floating in the middle. The scratchy carpet leaves marks on Light's face.

"I WORKED VERY HARD ON THAT TREE," Death declares.

"I can tell," Susan panted. "It still is holding up when knocking down a killer."

Light has carpet fibers stuck in his cheeks. He cannot believe that he got taken down by a cat tree. Susan confiscates the rest of the notebook pages. She observes them, the names written, and figures it out.

"Even if you had written something down, it wouldn't have worked," Susan says. "You can't die in Death's realm. That's why Albert and I brought him here."

"We need those, Miss Death," Vimes says. "It's evidence."

"I'm not Death," Susan says. "He is."

"Then what are you?"

"I'm family. But you should touch these pages."

When Vimes does, he sees the shinigami. He blinks and stares at Ryuk, who waves.

"The shinigami," Albert says.

"A GOD OF DEATH THAT IS FEARED," Death explains.

There is probably going to be some argument about who has jurisdiction over Moida and Ryuk, and Death calling out Ryuk for abusing his powers. He says that death is meant to be a part of life, and manipulating those events out of boredom is very beyond the pale. Ryuk says that he is no different from other shinigami, and that he has never had to pay consequences for his behavior. Death reminds Ryuk that shinigami, unlike other manifestations of death, can also cease to exist if they break rules about how to save humans. And he has Ryuk's hourglass in his hand.

Vimes insists that the death god and Light need to be booked. They have proof that he killed the guild members and those that held their ledgers. Death retorts that they are too dangerous to go back to the Disc. Light has tasted the power of a god. And they have not just violated mortal laws but also established rules of their world. Light may try to grab an extra scythe or hold hourglasses hostage to save himself, but Susan and Albert take care of him.

Somehow it ends with Light and Ryuk being trapped in their hourglasses, and Vimes reluctantly makes Death a deputized member of the Watch, since Death can be everywhere, while acknowledging that Light will face justice outside of Ankh-Morpork's jurisdiction. They have a larger pocket space so it's not inhumane, but they are prisons. Ryuk can no longer have his fun and is dealing with boredom, while Light has time to think about the consequences of his actions. The Unseen University accepts his involuntary withdrawal, because expulsions are rare and embarrassing for all parties involved. Vimes can think about if he wants to break the news to Soichiro, from one copper to another.

Vetinari isn't surprised by all this. There is always an upstart that thinks they can rule better than him. The Assassins and Thieves Guild start to rebuild, though it is going to be a while before all the burglaries and botched assassinations die down. And as Susan put it in Death's realm, Light may claim that he is a god, but he is a boy, like boys who fry ants and wasps with glass. She meets many children like him in her governess and schooling days.

Everyone is still mourning Nobby Nobbs. He was a good copper. Angua visits his grave, apologizing for making him a target. Reg tends the grave.

So Light would get his ass kicked on the Disc, while causing lasting consequences. But he doesn't die, as he feared. He and Ryuk face something much worse: an eternity of boredom, while knowing someone is watching them.

#discworld #death note #discworld fanfic #samuel vimes #angua von uberwald #susan sto helit #Discworld Death #Light Yagami #Ryuk #fandom #Discworld Albert

55 notes · View notes