#t shirt canon. BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM

[alluralater]

*throws The Untenable Yearning at your head* yeah thats what you get. harlot!

[tieronecrush]

hot & heavy

chapter eleven: star-spangled eyes

neighbor!joel x f!reader

series masterlist

series rating: E (18+ MDNI)

series summary:

over the course of three summers, joel miller becomes woven into your life. the first summer is spent falling for him; nannying his daughter and sneaking around with him in a burning love affair. you know how you feel about joel, he isn’t so sure about how it all is gonna work. the second summer is brief. a month spent at home after graduation and before you move to boston for your dream job. one look at you, one time hearing your voice, and joel is hooked again. he pines over you for that month, but you think — how is long distance of over a thousand miles going to work for a single dad? the third summer, you return home burnt out and pride bruised from your post-grad life. you need time to feel at home again, like your complete self, so you’ve come back home with no return ticket booked. it’s only a matter of time before joel seeks you out, slowly spending more time with you. without an inevitable end to the summer looming over you both, what chances are you willing to take?

word count: 7.9k

warnings: NO OUTBREAK (don’t need to worry about the mushies), no use of y/n, inexperienced reader, age gap (joel is 30/31, reader is 22), canon-divergent (sarah is 7 y/o), nanny au, pet names (sweetheart, darling, sweet girl, mariposa, etc.), polite southern manners, feeling familial and self-pressure, ESTABLISHED relationship FINALLY, spanish cause joel is latino, unprotected p in v, dirty talkkk king joel miller, soft (and soft dom) joel, possessive joel, mentions of depression and symptoms, struggling with self, discussion of parenting, angst, MAJOR doubt! and displays of nationalism! yay!

a/n: thank you as always to the bestie/cousin/sister wife/sweet, sweet gf @northernbluess for beta-reading this chapter, seriously i can't write without you so don't ever leave me pls. also thank you all for being so patient with this chapter while i was away! enjoy xxx

“Morning, Millers! Happy Fourth!” Your dad’s voice booms in your ear from where he stands behind you at the garage door, waving to the three Millers as they walk over to your driveway. “Y’all ready for a day on the lake?”

“Sure are. Thanks again for invitin’ us, can we pack up the cooler and everything in my truck? Might make it easier to access since you’ve got the boat hitched up here.” Joel glances your way, the slightest curve of his mouth when you catch his stare, turning toward your dad.

“Well, that’d be just great! We’ve got a couple more bags inside, but think you can take care of these things for now?” Your dad gestures to the things behind you both, clapping his hands when Joel confirms and steps forward to grab the supplies. Slipping back into the house to help your mom with last-minute prep, your dad leaves you with the Miller crew outside.

“Long time, no see, Posey.” Tommy teases as he grabs a tote from his older brother as Joel gives him a glare, earning a smile and shrug from you. “Definitely didn’t hear you sneaking out the kitchen door this mornin’ from my place sleeping on the couch.”

“Get all of that out now before we’re constantly around my parents all day, Thomas.” Joel straightens up at the slightest edge of your voice, masked with teasing as he walks away from you standing with Tommy, grumbling to himself as he goes to load everything for the festivities into his truck.

“Yeesh, somebody’s in a mood. Sometimes he wakes up on the wrong side of the bed, but you probably know that.” Tommy hikes the bag onto his shoulder further, grimacing slightly with a familiar furrowed brow — you can see even more of the resemblance with that.

“I’ve seen him crabby, but it’s honestly been pretty rare. He was fine this morning.” Watching from your driveway, Joel’s shoulders move underneath the navy t-shirt he’s got on, lifting everything into the bed of his truck. Tommy follows over there, loading up the rest of the things that your dad brings out from the house. You pick up one tote, Joel approaching behind you and skimming a hand over your lower back.

“I can take that, sweetheart.” He holds a hand out at your side, giving you a tight lip smile as you nod and stutter out an agreement, handing the bag over to him. Your parents walk outside at that moment, your mom rifling through her purse while your dad calls into the house for your brother, Chris, before shutting the door.

“Everyone ready to go?” Your mom looks up, meeting your eyes as Joel gives her a nod and a smile, walking over to his truck to get Sarah in. “Oh gosh, we really overpacked, didn’t we?”

“You always pack for the boat as if we’re going on a sailing trip out to the Gulf. But at least we’ll be prepared,” you say with a laugh, adjusting the strap of your swimsuit underneath your cover-up dress, turning around, and exchanging another look with Joel as he climbs into his car.

There’s the smallest flash of those ‘what ifs’ that plagued your mind a few nights ago, tamped down for the last few days. You clear your throat of the acidic burn, climbing into the back of your dad’s truck and watching Chris shuffle out of the house still half asleep, climbing in next to you with a mumbled greeting.

After you ignore it, he asks, “What the hell has you in a mood?”

If only you could say something.

You climb out of the back of your dad’s truck once you reach the docks, making your way over to Joel’s truck parked in the lot to help unload while your dad and Chris drop the boat in. Sidling up to him at the back of the cab, you reach for your personal bag that you packed with your things like a book and extra sunscreen and a change of clothes. His hand intercepts yours, looking at you with one side of his mouth lifted.

“I got it for you, Mari. D’you mind walkin’ with Sarah?” He nods to where she’s stood on the sidewalk nearby, observing all of the boats in the small lakeside harbor. Glancing back at Joel, you give him a gentle smile, reaching to give his arm a squeeze.

“Thanks, J. I’ll take Sarah down there. You sure you and Tommy don’t need any help?” You suspiciously eye the amount of stuff occupying the truck bed, quirking a brow at him.

“Positive, darlin’. Y’all head down there, we’ll be right behind you both.” He leans in a few inches as if he’s going to kiss you, halting in his movements and letting out a barely audible sigh before straightening up again and looping a few more bags onto his arms. Your stomach flips around with the need to complete his motions, to close the gap that was there between you, but you respect the boundaries he wants to keep around your family, instead walking over to Sarah and taking her hand. 

Guiding her down the winding path, she tells you all about how excited she is to go swimming and to see the fireworks later, swinging your joined hands. You stop at the end of the dock, waiting as your dad and Chris pull around to where you and your mom are; Joel and Tommy come up behind you with all the goods, loading them onto the boat with your dad and Chris when they come around. Tommy hops on after swinging the cooler over the side, Joel stepping down after. Your dad offers your mom a hand while Joel picks up Sarah easily and sets her down, reaching a hand out to you afterward.

Gingerly taking it, you swing one foot onto the seat, bringing the other over and tripping a bit. You sway back and forth, a heavy hand tightly gripping your side to steady you.

“Y’alright? Nearly fell in there, sweetheart.”

Nodding and taking a breath, Joel drops his hand from you and helps you the rest of the way down and onto the seat. Your mom digs out a child’s life jacket from one of the storage compartments, passing it to you.

“D’you mind getting that on Sarah, honey? She’s gotta wear it to stay safe. Too many nutcases out on the water today.”

You call Sarah over, smiling as she stands in front of you and explaining that she has to keep this on while everyone’s on the boat. Easily slipping her arms in, you close it in front of her chest, clipping and securing the clips one at a time. Joel sits next to you, a few more inches apart than normal, patting Sarah’s curls and giving you a sideways glance.

“You wanna sit here between us, mija?” Joel pats the spot, helping Sarah scoot back onto the bench. He stretches his arm behind her, grazing your arm and brushing his fingers against the knit material of your cover-up. Joel relaxes for the first time all morning, content to stay like this all day if it was his choice. Both of his girls next to him, as close as he can get to you without breaking the boundaries he set himself.

With everyone seated, your dad at the helm, the boat lurches to life when the engines turnover and it idly cruises out of the harbor area before picking up speed to drive around the lake for a bit. The wind blows against all of you, Sarah giggling at the excitement of the ride. You turn to look at her, beaming a smile as she holds onto your arm. Joel watches the small interaction, his heart pumping the subtlest bit harder in his chest.

You’re so patient with Sarah, so kind, compassionate, silly, and serious — you’re exactly what she needs right now, what she’s missing that Joel can’t quite ever be no matter how hard he tries.

The words burn into his mind, sitting in his throat where he holds it back on his tongue. Later. He can say it later. At some point.

After a few laps and weaves around the lake, your dad idles the boat up to a cluster of fellow lake-goers, dropping the anchor and turning off the engines. Everyone shuffled around, Sarah popping up and asking to go in the water straight away.

“Gotta put some sunscreen on ya first, Bug. How about we do that, wait a few minutes for it to dry and you can drink some water and then go swimming?” Joel stands up, glancing around for their own bag they packed. You’re still seated, sorting through your own tote and pulling out your sunscreen.

“Here, use mine. Sure we’ll find your bag in a minute but don’t think Sare-Bear here wants to wait any longer than she has to for swimming.” You smile at her before handing the tube off to Joel, a quiet “thanks” in response. He gets some on Sarah, asking her to sit and wait for it to dry before handing the lotion back to you. Joel steps around you to find their bag on the other end of the boat, walking back over with spray sunscreen and stripping off his shirt to apply some himself.

Stealing glances at you, his mouth dries out when he watches you peel off the cover-up, setting it aside and leaving you clad in your bikini. The sight of you applying the sunscreen sends him back to that first summer, the view from his window into yours of you naked and applying body lotion — a show only for him. He swallows hard and shakes himself out of his thoughts, ignoring you off to his side until he hears you speak up.

“Hey, Tommy, d’you mind gettin’ my back for me since you’re waitin’ on the sunscreen from Joel?” He watches you cross over to Tommy before he can call out a protest, the words dying in his throat when he knows he doesn’t have any claim over you today. Tommy shrugs at Joel, helping you out while he watches on enviously.

Huffing out a sigh, he finishes his own application, throwing the bottle back in the bag and sitting back down in the sun. He slips his sunglasses down onto the bridge of his nose from the top of his head, closing his eyes and basking in some of the warmth before Sarah begs to get into the water.

Joel hears you mumble a curse under your breath, feeling your presence next to him. Tilting his head down and opening his eyes again, he glances at you sideways and questions, “Something wrong?”

“I stupidly left my sunglasses in the car. I set them down next to my bag instead of putting them inside of it,” you sigh and look around the boat in hopes that some sort of idea pops into your head. Joel reaches up, takes off his own pair of glasses, and hands them to you.

“Here, y’can borrow mine. Won’t need them in the water with Sarah anyway, just gonna lose ‘em if I wear them in the lake.” He gives you a shrug and a thoughtful smile, your fingers brushing his when you exchange the sunglasses. Your own smile that you give him flips his insides, a knowing look shared that says ‘I’d kiss you right now if I could’.

And he desperately wants to.

“Thanks, J—oel. Joel,” you catch yourself with the affectionate nickname, stuttering out the rest of his name and making him chuckle as he stands up.

“Anytime.” A flash of a wink nearly makes you stutter again, slipping the glasses on as Joel, Sarah, Tommy, and Chris all get in the water to cool off from the already blazing heat.

About a half hour later, Joel and Tommy rumble up the ladder back onto the boat, leaving Chris in charge of entertaining Sarah by spinning her in the inner tube that’s been inflated. The Millers measly dry off before Tommy wanders over to the cooler. Joel steps over to where you’re lying out on the bench, shaking his curls out over you with your eyes closed behind his sunglasses. The cool water drips over you, opening your eyes in a flash and sitting up.

“Rude,” you mumble as you wipe the drips of water and Joel sits next to you where your thighs once were. He chuckles and shrugs casually, leaning back against the side of the boat and propping his elbows up behind him. He’s sitting only a few inches away, and with your parents sitting and chatting at the other end, they don’t hear as he leans in and speaks low to you.

“Y’looked hot. I was only tryin’ to cool you down.” He winks and smirks smugly, dragging his eyes up and down your body when you stand and patter over to the cooler where Tommy’s retrieved a beer from.

“You want a drink, Joel?” you ask over your shoulder, nodding in confirmation when he says yes.

“Probably should get some water as well. You, too. Gotta stay hydrated in the heat.”

“Hm, guess so.” You grab a plastic bottle and turn around, lobbing it to him to catch. You pick up another for yourself, grabbing a can of beer for Joel and a popsicle for you. As you turn around with your pickings, you take the beer can in one hand, heading straight on for Joel and press it into your skin against your sternum, sighing a bit extra as the icy cold aluminum sits against your sun-warmed body.

Dragging it across, the condensation drips across your body, dropping the can down in between your breasts as you stand with your back to your parents. Another sigh breathed directly towards Joel, the slightest pitch change up at the end indetectable to Tommy across the boat but unignorable for Joel.

He clears his throat, taking the can from you gingerly as you hold it out for him, equally as smug of a smirk on your face. You take your seat next to him again, setting your water bottle to the side of you and unwrapping the popsicle as Joel cracks his beer and takes a sip.

“Lucky it’s still cold,” he grumbles under his breath, making you laugh quietly and a smile tug at the corner of his mouth.

Between your thumb and index, you grip the wooden stick of the red, white, and blue rocket pop, bringing it up to your lips and starting to lick it as you make conservation with Tommy, a thought popping into your head as ‘Fortunate Son’ by Creedence Clearwater Revival starts playing over the boat’s speakers.

“D’you get a lot of people thanking you for your service when they find out you were in the army, Tommy?”

“Eh, some really. Fellow veterans really don’t, and I don’t care to mention it that much to people. Most they notice is the sticker on my car in like the grocery store parking lots and they’ll say it quickly or give me a nod,” he shrugs and waves the question off, “Plus, you definitely don’t get people saying it to me on the Fourth. People gettin’ too drunk outta their minds in the name of their freedom.”

“Well, if no one else says it today, then thanks, Tommy. War is the stupidest thing man invented, but m’glad you made it home safe.”

Tommy holds up his can of beer and tips it toward you while you pop the icy, sugary treat out of your lips and hold it up with a laugh.

“Cheers,” he says with a smile.

Joel merely listened to you two the whole time, chatting back and forth while Tommy pounds his beer and tossed it into the recycling bag before jumping back into the lake. You’ve still got your popsicle, sliding it between your lips absentmindedly next to Joel, who keeps glancing to the side as you.

At the next, admittedly overdramatized, suck of popsicle between your lips, slurping the sugary juice before a drip slips out of the corner of your mouth. You wipe it up with your thumb, about to turn to Joel to ask if you’ve got food coloring on your face when he shifts next to you, one hand attempting to adjust himself before he grumbles a few curses and stands up. The water and beer are left ignored in cup holders, the small, subtle bulge in his trunks giving you a smirk that you bite back as he stomps over to the side of the boat and jumps in to cool off.

Throwing out the popsicle stick, you drink some of your water before meandering over to the side of the boat and climbing down the ladder and into the lake water. An instant chill is spread across your body, relaxing your muscles and washing off the slight sweat that built up under the blazing sun. Paddling over to the rest of the group in the water, you exchange a quick look with Joel before Sarah and Chris pull you into some sort of game. Twenty minutes go by before Sarah gets bored of the water, hungry and thirsty, and when Joel moves to help her out of the water and onto the boat, Tommy offers to get out with her to have another beer and some snacks himself. Chris gets out along with them, leaving you and Joel alone in the water.

He swims over to where you’re treading water, a soft, friendly smile on his face. “Hi, Mari.”

“Hey, J.”

A wider grin spreads across his lips, swimming away for a moment to fetch the inner tube that Sarah was using bringing it over and slipping it over your head. A laugh leaves your lips when you can’t see over it for a moment, pushing the tube down and climbing onto the side to lean on it. You float above Joel’s eyeline, his neck slightly tilted to look into your eyes hidden behind his sunglasses.

“You look nice today, darlin’,” he hums and treads water in front of you, reaching out a hand underwater and toying with the material of your swimsuit at your hip.

“Only nice?” you tease, leaning over the side of the inner tube a bit more, biting your bottom lip.

“Well, I could say more but probably don’t want my thoughts overheard,” he mirrors your smirk and snaps the elastic of the swimsuit against your skin, fingertips trailing down your thighs, “You do look more than nice though. You look beautiful. S’a pretty swimsuit and, uh, that dress thing—”

“My cover-up?”

“Yeah, yeah. I like your cover-up. It’s nice. A shame it covers up all this, but y’know you still look gorgeous either way.” He gives you a wink and squeezes one of your thighs.

“Thanks, J. You look pretty, too. But you always look pretty — got your curls and your tanned skin and broad shoulders and big brown eyes,” you giggle quietly as he rolls his eyes and shakes his head bashfully.

“You’re always pretty, too, Mari. You always look beautiful. La mujer más hermosa del mundo (The most beautiful woman in the world).”

It’s quiet for a moment as the two of you look at each other, silently admiring before you break first, your voice covered by all the commotion of the lake around you but audible to Joel right in front of you. “I wish I could kiss you right now.”

His shoulders sag underwater and his brow creases subtly, bottom lip pouting, “M’sorry.”

“It’s okay, J. Wasn’t a good time to tell them. Later, right?” You give a sad smile that he returns, squeezing his hands against your thighs with a short nod.

“Later.”

After floating around and chatting with Joel until you were turning pruney and nearly falling asleep in the water, he pushes the inner tube toward the boat and follows behind you to get back.

“Y’need to get some water and somethin’ to eat, sweetheart. Probably dehydrated at this rate cause you look like you’re about to pass out.” Joel pats the tube with his hand to silently ask you to get out to go up the ladder.

“M’just sleepy, the sun feels warm. Like a cat, jus’ wanna nap in the sunlight,” you mumble out, stretching your arms up and your legs toward Joel underwater, pointed toes hitting his thighs. He grabs you by the ankles, tugging a bit to move you closer before he nods to the blown-up floaty.

“Maybe so, but you still haven’t had any water for at least an hour and you haven’t had anything to eat besides the popsicle. Let’s go up, Mariposa.” His voice is decided — filled with care and not control. It compels you to follow what he says, slipping the tube over your head and wading over to the ladder. Joel follows you out, dripping on the boat and grabbing his towel as your brother tosses yours from the bench.

Drying off and wrapping your towel around you, drops of water trail off of you all the way to the seat where you plop down next to Tommy. Joel heads to the cooler, grabbing out water for both of you. He asks around if anyone else wants one, getting a few hollered answers as he throws them all around. When he returns to sit down again, he hands you yours along with a snack — one of the Tupperware filled with some chopped fruit. Sarah wanders over when you open it, standing in front of you to share. Joel throws the bottle of sunscreen over to you, asking to reapply for Sarah and reminding you to do it for yourself. 

“Alright, everybody, heads up. The plan right now is to move the boat and park up by a friend of ours’ house on the lake here. And there we’ll grill out and have some dinner and then come back onto the boat for fireworks before headin’ home,” your dad explains as he moves back into the driving seat, “Sound alright for y’all?”

Everyone’s in agreement, kicking it into gear as you let Sarah next to you to continue sharing the snack while your dad lifts the anchor. Holding onto her while you ride over, Joel takes in the sight of you two across from him, a steady flap of butterfly wings smack dab in the middle of his chest.

Su Mariposa y su mariposita. His butterfly and his little butterfly — his Bug. His girls.

He finds himself thanking the universe for leading him to someone as nurturing and patient and kind as you to love. A lonely road ending with you.

It’s a thought he continues to have throughout the rest of the evening, small moments that he sees of you with his daughter, his brother, your own family and friends. Effortless. You make it all seem so effortless and natural, but Joel knows how much energy a day like today will take from you; from your spirit. He can’t claim to know exactly what’s on your mind, but all he can do is fight the urge to blurt out a loud ‘thank you’ in the middle of the lawn.

Even through everything, you have a smile on your face for him and your loved ones. You’re strong, perseverant. Someone he looks up to, and hopes that you can be that type of role model for his daughter. Not perfect, not idolized. Real.

“She’s just completely enamored with Sarah, isn’t she?” your mom’s voice pulls Joel out of his thoughts, realizing his eyes were trained in you and Sarah as you help her make a plate for dinner from the large spread on the deck tables. Joel looks up to his left, a gentle and sheepish smile on his face as he nods slowly.

“She’s great with Sarah. Has been since that first summer. I think Sarah has way more fun with her and listens to her way more than she does me,” Joel chuckles softly and your mom laughs with a nod.

“That’s how it always is. The kids always loved their babysitters and looked up to them in a different sort of way. We were lucky to have the sitters we did to help raise the kids right, y’know?”

“I do know. Feel the same way since we moved in next door. The whole family’s been a real help—“

“But there’s just something about her, isn’t there?”

“Exactly. Can’t quite put my finger on it. But there’s something special there. Maybe she should consider it for a career, nannying I mean. Always seemed to be happy with Sarah during the summer.” Both sets of eyes are still on you across the way, focused on Sarah and guiding her through the muck of people to keep her from getting overwhelmed.

“I think there might be something just special there. In all of her babysitting and nannying years, can’t say she’s had as much fun as she did with Sarah.”

“Guess I should thank you for volunteering her that first summer. Probably the best recommendation I’ve gotten from a neighbor,” Joel laughs to himself, shaking his head subtly as he thinks of all the time you two have had together over the years.

“Thank me later, how about that? End of this summer, you can thank me for getting her to do what she was too chicken to do,” your mom laughs quietly, “Talking to the new neighbor and getting a job.”

“Uh, yeah, alright.” Your mom shares a smile with Joel before walking off to chat to some friends, leaving Joel to wonder what she meant by that exactly.

Back onto the boat after dinner with the larger party, your family and the Millers caravanned into the middle of the lake with a bunch of other boaters, dropping anchor in the cluster.

There is a platform in the middle of the lake, installed there with taut chains to the bottom where the same family lights off an impressive fireworks display every year. Helping your mom hand around the last bit of drink and some cookies for dessert, you finally are able to snag a spot by Sarah and Joel on the other side of her. Once you get settled, Sarah looks over at you with her sun-kissed face and big brown eyes just like her dad’s. Wordlessly, she scoots closer to you before deciding to simply climb onto your lap, you accepting her company with open arms.

“You comfy?” you wrap your arms around to hug her to your chest and keep her on your thighs, smiling as she nods with a quiet yawn. Her head leans back on your shoulder, one of your hands coming up to run your fingers through her curls.

Joel slides over a few inches, a hand’s width away from you, relaxing with you close by. The sight of Sarah so comfortable with you, and you her, brings back those butterfly wings stronger than before. What he would give to be able to put his arm around you and give you a kiss — to have his little unit of three together.

Damn, maybe he should have said something to your parents…

No, no. This was the smart choice. It’s the smart choice to keep it this way around them until things are certain. He’s all in for you, but there is still a small whispering of doubt that he feels every once in a while.

Are you going to resent him at any point? Will you want to leave again at the end of summer, to leave him behind and continue your life somewhere else? He knows you care about him, he knows how much you care about Sarah. But does he rely too much on you? Is it too much to sign up to be with him and also sign up to have a daughter along with it all?

Every time he thinks about telling your family, all he can imagine is the worst scenario. Disowning, no contact, moving. Joel’s insecurities fester in these imaginings, finding out how to make every new thought worse than the last.

It’s not fair to you, he knows that. But he needs time. Time to find the right words, to make the right promises.

A small, pathetic pop of a firecracker grabs everyone’s attention, the fizzle of the main display filling the air. Sarah sits up in your lap, eyes turned up along with yours as the fireworks start to go, drowning out whatever you’re saying to her as you point and smile widely. The reflection of the lights dissipates in your eyes each time, short explosions fading out to the night sky again.

Joel seems to be the only one with his gaze turned away from the opening in the clouds, a thought flashing into his head like one of the fireworks before he acts on it. Fingers brush your hip, catching on the open-knit and your head turns to face him, the same smile you had with Sarah still on your face. He leans in behind her head, his nose brushes against yours before he kisses you — soft and delicate and not nearly enough for what he needs in the moment but it satiates something for him.

You’re smiling against his lips, stealing one last quick peck before pulling back, the same wide grin from before spread across your cheeks as you whisper to him.

“Naughty.”

“Yeah, well, you’re to blame for it with the teasing all day. Better be coming over tonight after all of that,” Joel responds back, the noise drowned to everyone else on the boat by the repeated launches of large fireworks.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, J. I thought I was being peaceful and relaxed all day.”

At that you turn your head up again, listening to Sarah as she talks about the bursting lights and starts pointing at all of the cool moments again. Joel continues to watch you fall back into the moment with her, he content with being an observer — and for giving you a tiny token of all that he’s been feeling today.

But damn is he eager to get you alone.

It was a long while to get home and get everything unpacked from the car and into the garage, but you’ve finally managed to shower and change; behind you, you slowly pull the sliding glass door closed to your basement studio, wandering across your backyard and into Joel’s to his backdoor.

Knocking lightly, it isn’t long before the door opens, and Joel’s hands find your waist to tug you inside, tripping over your feet across the threshold.

“Hey, J—” Your words are cut off by his lips on yours, a heavy kiss enveloping your breath while your hands search across his arms and up to his chest. Returning his kiss gives more energy behind his movements, fingers digging into your hips and directing you backward until your lower back hits the edge of the kitchen counter. There’s a split second that he pulls away to help you up onto the surface, his large frame leaning in again to catch your lips with his.

Pressure at his chest from your palms keeps him a few inches away from your face, eyes meeting his as your breaths recover shallowly.

“What a greeting,” you laugh, voice hoarse as you keep your volume low.

“Missed bein’ able to kiss you, Mari. Holdin’ you. And you were such a fucking tease all day, darlin’,” he rasps out, brow creased as he holds your gaze.

“Was not.”

“Was too, Mari.” Joel slips his hands into the bend of your legs, spreading them apart to step between them. He pulls you further to the edge pressing his bulge into your thigh as he sighs, letting his breath fan over your face, “Feel what you do to me, pretty girl? Been wanting you all day. Need you so bad, Mariposa.”

Your own sigh matches his, eyes closing for a moment as he starts to grind against your clothed center, stuttering out a response, “Cou—Could’ve touched me today. Maybe we should’ve snuck off at the barbecue…”

Both of you chuckle, Joel’s much darker than yours, “Don’t tell me that now, baby. You’ve got no idea what I would’ve done to you if we had a second alone.”

“We’re alone now. Show me what you would’ve done.”

“Yeah? You wanna know?” His parted mouth trails warm breath against your skin, his nose ghosting against your cheek before he presses kisses into your jawline.

“Please, J,” you whine, mouth right against his ear as he leans over to kiss your neck. One hand tangles into the curls at the nape of his neck, damp from the shower that you can smell on him — the sandalwood musk scent of his body wash. A deep breath of the scent races your heart along with his wandering hands, him standing fully in front of you again.

“Gonna have to be quiet, baby. Have a full house tonight. Silent, got it?”

All you do is nod in response, holding his head as you close the gap between you two with fervor. Joel rumbles out a moan into your mouth, tugging you close and off the counter, his impatience reeling after the day.

Fumbling around with cheeky grabs and gropes over each other, you get turned to face the counter and Joel’s hands hook into your waistband — sleep short and panties — to tug them down just enough to drop them down your legs and let you step one foot out. He pulls himself free from his shorts and boxers, a handful of your ass in his palm as he quietly moans to himself. One swipe of his fingers through your folds tells him exactly how much you want him, devilish smirk crossing his face.

“Felt like this the whole day, pretty girl? Must’ve been so needy, Mari. Don’t worry, I’ve got you now. Déjame cuidarte, cariño. Déjame sentirte. (Let me take care of you, darling. Let me feel you.)”

“Please, please, J—“

“Shh. S’alright, sweet Mari. Think you can take me, want to take my cock like the good girl you are?” He questions you in a raspy whisper, taking himself in one hand and guiding the head of his cock through your wetness.

“Fuck…” you draw out quietly, nodding quickly as you look over your shoulder at him, “I can take it, please give it to me.”

“Pretty girl jus’ begging for me, yeah? Got to be quiet,” Joel reminds you before he lines himself up, slowly opening you up with his cock. The stretch is painful at first, whimpers echoing in your closed mouth while you grip the counter’s edge and bite the inside of your cheek.

With slow, shallow thrusts at first, Joel works you to relax around him, nodding to himself when he sees your shoulder relax and your head fall forward out of pleasure when he starts to pick up the pace behind you.

“That’s it, baby, such a good girl. Mi buena chica. Sabes cómo tomarlo, Mari. (My good girl. You know how to take it.)”

A moan slips from your lips and cuts through the relative silence, your head snapping over your shoulder to Joel. He shakes his head, sliding one hand up your side to hold around your mouth, covering up any more noises and giving him leverage to arch your back for him as he fucks you harder.

“Shit, pretty girl, not gonna last—Fuck, muy apretado y mojado. (Fuck, so tight and wet.)” You nod behind Joel’s hand, gripping his wrist when his free hand reaches for your clit, rubbing hurried circles that push you to the edge further, teetering there while his hips hit into you harder and brush your g-spot. Feeling yourself clench around his cock, you move your own hips to meet his thrusts, eyes rolling back as the top of him hits your g-spot square on.

“That’s right, my girl, can feel how close you are. Give it to me, baby, please—“ A vibrating moan interrupts his rambling thoughts when you come, walls gripping around him and fluttering inside. Your own noises are stifled by his palm, body limping in his hold while he rocks his hips as deep as possible and ropes of his come fill you up. “Such a good girl, goddamn…”

Breathless, he holds you up and presses you against the counter as he hunches over your body from behind. Using whatever energy is left in him, Joel peppers your neck and profile in lazy kisses, lingering around your ear.

“Love you, Mari.”

Once you’ve both recovered enough from the quick, hasty fuck, limbs regaining their abilities to move, Joel leads you up to bed and drags you under the covers. The two of you chat about the day and plans for the rest of summer while he lays his head on your chest, eyes closing while you run your fingers through his hair. Index twirls some of the rare ringlets, nails scratching his scalp soothingly.

In a few moments of you talking to him about bringing Sarah to the aquarium, his breaths have leveled out and his lips have parted, a large muscular build curled around you sleeping. It’s a few moments that you steal while continuing to play with his hair, admiring how young and boyish he looks. The perpetually creased brow of his has relaxed, his parted lips giving him the slightest of pouts.

Joel, your strong, independent, capable, protective, caring, loving man, is still a boy at times. When you feel young around him, you know you’ll think back to this moment — when you realized he’s just as much in the ‘figuring how all this shit works out’ stage. Permanently.

The last two or so years have been filled with moments that it seems that you took what Joel had to think or say as written in stone; his confidence and decisiveness was something you were envious of at times. But it also meant that all those times, even if he knew what he was doing, he was still a young boy, a teenager, a man, all the ones in between — figuring it out. Wondering if the choices were right. If it would all work out in the end.

That first summer, when you fell completely in love and let him know before you were leaving for nearly a year. It was genuine, of course, but it was naive. Thinking about long distance, a single father trying to make that work. It probably scared him at the time, and was too much to attempt to work with.

And the next summer, when he had his time to figure out what he was feeling. His confession of love that had your heart in your throat, terrified to admit anything close to the feeling before you were thousands of miles away. The feeling was there, it was always there. But you couldn’t bring yourself to say it back, to open up for the pain you felt the year prior.

His denial of you, yours of him — looking back, you can’t blame Joel for these hiccups, just like you can’t blame yourself. He was only trying to figure it out. It was all new to him, navigating a life with you in it was something he hadn’t had to do before, hadn’t imagined before.

You’re in the exact same state, each and every day. And it made you so afraid to be all in, the uncertainty of life blinding you to actually opening up.

Fingers have paused their movements in his hair, Joel stirring awake against your chest when your touch leaves him completely. His head is tilted to face you, masked in an expression that you can’t quite read. Comfortable, drowsy, affectionate. Half asleep, droopy eyes find your own, holding your gaze as he breaks the quiet and stillness of the bedroom with a gravelly voice.

“Was thinking about you in my sleep just now.”

“Oh yeah? What were you thinking about, baby?”

“How you’re my best friend.” The arm slung around your middle tightens as a goofy smile finds its way to his lips. “D’you know that, Mari?”

Looking at him, in that simple moment, a realization dawned on you as if it was the most obvious discovery.

He’s the only one you want to be figuring it out with.

“I love you, Joel.”

It comes out meeker than you wanted for this first-second time around, almost inaudible if it weren’t for the complete and utter quiet of the early morning hours.

A dreamy but wide grin stretches across his face, waking him up a bit more in the moment. He picks up his head from your chest, sitting up a few inches to look you properly in the eyes as he asks, “Yeah?”

“Mhm, I love you,” you can barely get it out without a happy giggle tagging on the end, barely squeaking the last syllable out before Joel’s skittering kisses all over your face, that same wide grin on his lips.

“Say it again, please, Mari.”

“I love you, J. I’m so in love with you.”

His attack on your face and neck continues, his own chuckles mixing with your giggles, his arm tightening around you and fingers tickling your sides.

“Am I still asleep? Am I dreaming right now?” he questions, pausing his peppered kisses to give you a tender one on your lips, that same goofy grin knocking your teeth together.

Before you respond, or he asks for you to say it again, Joel takes a pause to look into your eyes head on. Silence overcomes the room again, goofy grin morphing into a sweet, softened smile of his. Disbelief painted across his face as he took you in, shaking his head.

“Te amo, mi Mariposa. Siempre. I love you, Mari. Always.”

“I love you, Joel.”

Holding your eyes for a moment longer, there’s a shift in the air from the giddy confession. Joel inches down, connecting your lips in a ghosting kiss, your lips following his to feel more. After a beat, the kiss heats up, slow and sensual. His hands roam your sides, hiking up the material of your sleep shirt and pressing his palm against your exposed skin.

There’s no break in the embrace, only pushing further to feel each other closer and constant. The slight lack of oxygen, the breathlessness of it all, is making your head airy and dizzy, limbs tingling with electricity when you slip your fingers under the collar of his t-shirt. In the moment, you could drown in the feeling of Joel’s lips against yours.

The only breaths you get are when he separates from your lips to pull your shirt over your head and then follows it with his own, easily sipping your elastic waistbands down your legs again. You kick off the material from your ankles while he strips out of his own shorts and boxers, messy kisses shared while your hands skate over his bare skin. Fingertips work to memorize the dips and peaks, the trail of hair from his belly button down. Joel’s own hands explore your curves, relishing in the softness of your skin.

He pulls away from your mouth, breathless and blown pupils before he rasps out, “I love you so much, Mariposa. Got no clue who I’d be if I didn’t meet you…You’re it for me.”

Your voice is thick with emotion, one hand tangling your fingers with the hair at the back of his head, “I love you, J. It’s only you, s’always been you.”

Joel’s hand lifts one of your legs to bend next to his hip, lining himself at your entrance before he slowly thrusts in, savoring the feeling of you around him, body pressed against his skin in every place possible. Airy moans muffle into and against each other’s lips as he fills you up, the rhythm of his movements languid and steady. The pace is reeling your brain into a building of pleasure, whispers from Joel adding to the euphoric adoration between the two of you.

“My beautiful girl, so perfect. Love everything about you, sweet girl. M’so lucky to have you…Mine forever, right Mari baby? Mi hermosa, mi amor. I love you, fuck, I love you so much, Mari. Always got me feeling like m’floating around you, like I got a butterfly flapping it’s wings in my chest with how giddy you make me feel with just one look. Mi mariposa. My butterfly. Mine…”

The words are absorbing with each shallow breath you take, nodding along to his ramblings and feeling tears well against your waterline. Hands grip hard onto his shoulders, folding yourself around him tighter as you leave lingering kisses along his profile.

“Yours, J, yours always. I love you so fucking much—Oh my god, you’re everything to me, baby.”

“Never letting you go again. My girl, my fucking beautiful girl. Gonna make you mine forever, gonna make you my wife, mi esposa, one day, sweet, perfect girl. You’re made for me, Mari. Mi media naranja. (My other half.)”

His thrusts pick up only slightly, but enough to spill the tears waiting at the brink of your eyes, Joel’s mouth catching each one with featherlight kisses. Sitting right at the edge, your eyes lock with his, vision slightly blurred from the tears continuing to fall. Joel’s features fill the vignette, hooked nose, pillowy lips, soft brown eyes, olive skin sprinkled with crinkles around his eyes, subtle lines at his forehead. Nothing more beautiful to you than those parts making up the whole of him.

“Te amo, te amo, J. I love you, baby…”

His breath catches in his throat, smile spreading as his nose nudges against yours to speak against your lips.

“Te amo, mi Mariposa. Los amo a todos, cada poco. Eres todo lo que podría haber soñado y más (I love all of you, every bit. You're everything I could have ever dreamed of and more). I will spend every day earning your love and giving you all of mine.”

The words you understood have your frayed edges pulled taut, snapping one at a time as your brain floods with pleasure. Your walls flutter around his cock, your leg hooks into his ass to drive him further inside to fill you up. It is only a moment longer before he’s spilling into you, your name falling from his lips over and over as he searches for your lips in his state of ecstasy.

One last heavy kiss is shared before he slumps onto you, similar position to the start of all this; his head on your chest, strong form curled around you and his eyes closed. It last for a moment, your fingers playing with his hair, before he’s pushing himself up to hang over your torso, tender eyes studying your messy hair and blissed out face.

A smile crosses your lips, eyes sparkling even with the lights out in the room and the curtains only cracked apart to let moonlight stream in.

“Gonna make me your wife one day, huh?” you tease as you look up at him from your spot laying back on the mattress, crumpled sheet pulled over top of your naked body.

Joel rolls his eyes playfully, leaning over you and smiling, “As if you didn’t know that from the first time I spoke to you. Knew you were trouble from the start, just turned out to be the best kind of trouble.”

taglist: @beskarandblasters @undrthelights @swiftispunk @joelsversion @asirenbyanyothername @ellenmunn @ja-ehyun @sw33tp1xie @marisemonteiroo @brunetteeras@bongsrconfusing @addictedtotlou @angie2274 @pedrostories @pedroholicx @theelishad @johnwatsn @elissaaa @felicityofbakerstreet @atinylittlepain @northernbluess @cannolighost @casa-boiardi @wannab-urs @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @fishingforpike @msjarvis @walkintotheriveranddisappear @sugadolly @yazsos @peppesgirl @pastawench @brittmb115 @anoverwhelmingdin @spishsstuff @wolfbook87 @mswarriorbabe80 @harriedandharassed @decemberdolly @laiisleitte @fierce-bab @vickie5446 @tbniarq @vee-bees-blog @thereaperisabitch @spidermanfrog @belliezz @joelsflannel @cartoon-garbage04 @bianqueee04 @nostalxgic @xyzstar @cumberpegg

[dustydaddyyy]

no strings attached | joel miller x fem!reader

pairing: joel miller x fem! reader

summary: you can't deny there's always been something between you and joel miller. The question is, is either of you going to do something about it?

warnings: swearing, unspecified age gap (reader is her late 20s and joel is canon age) canon-typical descriptions of violence, some good old fashioned pining, fluff, mentions of grief/death, implications of sex/smut, no actual smut, joel is disgustingly gentlemanly, no use of y/n

a/n:…………I know this isn't the next chapter of flashpoint guys, I know. But this has been in my drafts forever and I had some inspiration to finish off the final part. and now here it is, so please enjoy!! don't forget to let me know what you thought through reblog/likes/comments/asks, I love to hear all of your thoughts aka pls interact with my work or my motivation to write shrivels and dies inside

You had never been a fan of cold, which was funny, considering it was cold in Jackson almost all year round. Even the summers were mild, but you still found yourself aching for them every time the winter came around, nights getting longer and the days getting shorter. 

You're standing on the main square in Jackson, hands clasped around a steaming mug of something as you look up at the building in front of you, but more specifically, the men standing on the makeshift scaffolding, working on the building. In your other hand you're gripping a large thermos, almost too large for your single grip, but you manage to keep it between your fingers.

They'd been working on the outer façade of the building for the past two weeks, after part of it had collapsed after a particularly rough storm.

There's a presence to your left as your eyes sweep over the scaffolding, and you turn your head to look at Maria as she lets loose a sharp whistle.

"Come have some coffee," she shouts at those working, and you chuckle slightly to yourself as they start to come down.

"Like dogs," you say jokingly, taking a sip of your mug, "Man, I need to learn how to whistle like that,"

"Don't say that to their face," Maria warns you jokingly, "There's much too much ego to go around in that group to take that with any kind of grace,"

You let out another chuckle, shaking your head with a laugh as you look away from her and towards the people walking in your direction. It was a relatively small group, maybe 5 or 6 men, and as they approach, you recognize Eugene's smile.

"Finally came out of your cave, eh?" he asks jokingly, and you narrow your eyes at him as you lift the coffee thermos.

"I'm happy to take this home with me," you inform him, and he laughs, before he extends an arm and pulls you sideways against him, almost spilling your drink.

You'd been in Jackson for 3 years now, having arrived at their large wooden gates early one morning in nothing but a t-shirt and a pair of jeans, severely hypothermic, dehydrated and covered in injuries. You'd been barely conscious, almost collapsing onto the snow but managing long enough to explain your situation to the guard on patrol, who had been Eugene. You'd come from California, more specifically Santa Barbara, where the Rattlers, a group of militaristic slavers, had pillaged your settlement. You'd barely escaped with your life, and it had been a damn near miracle that you'd managed the two-week trek on foot with nothing but a handgun and a limited supply of bullets. Your only advantage had been that you'd had to walk across large parts of Nevada, the state in which you'd grown up and spent the first 9 years of your life before the world went to shit.

Hence the disdain for cold weather.   

"She's cute when she gets all frowny, isn't she?" Eugene jokes again, and you roll your eyes, albeit jokingly.

"Let's see how cute I am when I shove my boot up your ass," you half-threaten, and Eugene lets out a booming laugh as the rest of the men arrive where you'd been standing, and he looks down at you. 

"Cute and violent. . . " he muses, before turning to the group with a raised eyebrow, "Any takers?"

"I'm not cattle," you say with a scoff, shrugging him off of you with a sideways shove, before straightening out, "Now you better drink this coffee before I spit in it, Eugene,"

"I hear ya," he says with a chuckle, taking the thermos from you as you move your gaze towards the group of men talking.

You know most of them pretty well, and you watch as they huddle, taking cups from Maria. Only the two at the back are standing a little away from the group, talking to each other animatedly under their breath.

The Miller brothers had been an interesting addition to Jackson.

Tommy had been here when you'd gotten there, but only a few months himself, and it had been nice to talk to someone who hadn't been living in the settlement for years, already. You'd been fast friends, Tommy's open personality and kind heart matching with your own personality well. You'd watched him fall in love with Maria, even been the one standing by his side as a witness when they'd gotten married. Tommy was easy; and open book, you could almost always tell what was going in his head.

Joel, however. . . Joel had been an entirely different story. You'd only been in Jackson 2 years when he'd first arrived. It had been strange, watching as Tommy had reconnected, albeit not smoothly, with someone he'd only ever told you about. You'd heard stories of Joel, though not many, and so when he came to Jackson, you found yourself slightly disappointed by him. He'd been the most regular man you'd ever laid eyes on, not some superhuman killing machine, and together with Ellie, they'd felt like two feral cats waiting to be rehomed.

Then they'd gone again, only coming back a few weeks later, and you'd known something wasn't right. Ellie had been muted, almost a ghost of the person she'd been when she'd first arrived, and Joel had been. . . you hadn't quite managed to put your finger on it at first, but after a few weeks observing him, some things had started to make sense. He'd had a wound, on his left side, which had been stitched horribly and gotten infected, and hadn't been healing right. You'd never been much of a healer, but when you'd first arrived in Jackson the sick bay is where you'd originally been assigned, to work under one of the few doctors in Jackson, and so you'd been in charge of dressing the wound and making sure it healed, despite Joel's vociferous protests.

You hadn't taken it personally, ignoring his cold exterior and treating him the same way you had everyone else, until finally, he began to accept your help, and your tentative friendship. Still, you hadn't managed to put your finger on what had happened to Joel and Ellie, and every time you talked to him, it felt as though he was holding back, keeping something from you, from everyone.

It wasn't until you'd brought a pair of Joel's pants, which you'd found stuffed into a bag under his bed, to the laundry, and you'd cleaned the spatters of blood running up the side of Joel's pant leg that you'd figured it out. Well, about half of it, anyway.

You'd been discreet, washing the blood off the clothes quietly and without attracting attention, before bringing them with you one day when you had to change his dressing, and dumping them out in front of him.

"Explain," you'd said, your voice calm and your gaze open, raising an eyebrow.

He'd been angry with you at first, eyes widening in shock at the idea that you'd been snooping around in his house, but you had paid him no heed and sat patiently in the chair until his anger subsided and he was ready to talk. 

You hadn't judged him as he'd spoken, and when Joel had told you everything, all the way from Ellie's immunity down to what had gone down in Salt Lake City, you'd sat in silence for a second, processing, before you'd nodded and moved onto treating his wound.

You hadn't talked about it past that, but Joel's attitude towards you had changed that day; he'd been expecting you to yell and scream at him, to be horrified at what he'd done and the fact that he'd probably doomed all of humanity to hell in one split-second decision, but you hadn't.

"I understand," you'd told him, as you cleaned his wound, "We all do horrible things in the name of love,"

In that moment, in the face of his horrible confession, you were calm, collected and accepting, and it was the first time Joel had felt comfortable around someone in Jackson that hadn't been Ellie or Tommy.

What Joel doesn't know, is that the minute you came home, you had hurled the contents of your stomach into your sink.

You didn't know what you'd been expecting, but it hadn't been that.

Maybe it had been a combination of the cold-blooded violence you knew he'd committed, and the idea of a cure so close within the world's grasp, but it had been such a deeply visceral reaction you were shocked you had managed to keep your face so impassive for the time it took for you to finish treating him.

Then again, you did understand. Joel Miller was not the only one who had committed atrocities for the people he loved; god knows your own hands were far from clean in that regard.

"Hey. . . you still with us?" comes a voice through your thoughts, and you shake yourself out of your mind, eyes moving up to look straight into Joel's.

It had been almost a year since his first admission, and since then, despite your initial reaction, you had found yourself getting closer to Joel. You didn't talk about it, and nothing had ever happened between the two of you, but it didn't take a genius to know something was there. Not acting on it had been a conscious choice from your side, and Joel had just never initiated anything either, which you supposed was in character for him.

"Yeah," you say, blinking a few times as you clear your throat and give him a weak smile, "Just zoned out a little,"

"You look tired," he offers, his eyebrows knitting into a slight frown, "You sleeping okay?"

"Gee, thanks," you let out in a scoff, and he gives you a look as you cover your exhaustion with a chuckle, "I'm sleeping fine, but it's good to know I apparently don't look that way,"

Joel lets out a breath through his nose at your tone, rolling his eyes slightly at your joke. "You ain't funny," 

The truth? Joel was right, you hadn't been sleeping.

You'd always suffered from night terrors as a child, sometimes waking up in all hours of the night screaming and crying and inconsolable for long period of time until your parents would wake you up and snap you out of it. You'd grown out of them, though, or so you thought.

They'd started up again a few months ago, ranging anywhere from waking up in the middle of the night in your bed with tears running down your face, to bouts of stomach-churning sleep paralysis that would leave you so shaken you wouldn't be able to sleep for the rest of the night. 

"Miller!" comes Eugene's voice from your left, "You want some coffee, or do you get your kicks out of chatting up younger women?"

"He's doing it a right sight better than you ever did," you fire back, almost immediately, "So you really shouldn't be saying shit,"

The men around Eugene burst into raucous laughter, and you watch as the corners of Joel's mouth turn up into the hint of a smile as his gaze moves down to his feet for a second, before he clears his throat and looks back up at you.

"Nice," he comments, and you give him a smirk, raising a confident eyebrow and bowing your head.

"Why thank you," you say jokingly, your chest blooming with the compliment, and he shakes his head slightly with a chuckle, before stepping away from you for a second to get some coffee. You watch him go, eyes following him as he pours himself a mug, eyes running over the expanse of his large hands–

You hadn't even noticed Maria coming to stand next to you until she'd cleared her throat, forcing you to look away from Joel hastily and to her. She's giving you a look, raising a single eyebrow as her eyes move between you and him.

"Not a word," you tell her, and purses her lips with a smile, shaking her head.

"Wasn't going to say anything," she muses, and you roll your eyes, before taking a deep breath.

"I think I'm gonna go,"

"Already?" comes Tommy's voice as he steps towards the both of you with a steaming cup in his hand, "You just got here,"

"I did what I came to do," you tell him, before raising a brow, "I ain't got all day,"

Maria's nose crinkles. "Ain't?" she repeats, before raising her eyebrows at you, "Some of that Texan charm rubbing off on you, kiddo?"

"I resent that nickname," you inform her, actively avoiding answering her question, your underlying tone humorous, "As if we aren't only a decade apart,"

"Hmm," Maria hums sarcastically into her cup, "That's a generous definition of decade,"

"You not sleeping well, kiddo? You look tired," Tommy asks, brow creased in concern as he looks at you, and you let out a groan, hands coming up slightly in exasperation.

"Jesus Christ," you mutter, just as Joel steps back towards your group, his ears picking up the tail end of your sentence, "What is it with you Millers? You really tell it like it is, don't you?"

"You look radiant," Maria supplies, and you give her a false, sweet smile.

"Oh, thank you," you half-mutter, before shaking your head with a smile, "But I'm wrecked. . . I worked the double shift for Seth last night and again tomorrow night, so I need to just take a day and sleep,"

"That's fair enough," Tommy says with a grimace, before he gives your shoulder a pet, "Sweet dreams,"

"Thanks," you breathe through a laugh, before you look at Joel with a small smile, "I'll see you later,"

He gives you one of those rare smiles of his own, and it makes his features only more handsome, "See you later,"

Your gaze tears away from him to nod at Maria, who gives you a strangely knowing smile which you ignore, turning on your heel and trudging back through the snow.

Joel had never meant to be standing on your doorstep later that day. Yet, here he was, fingers twitching nervously at his side as he knocks on your door.

He's not even sure you're awake, but it's evening now, the sun slowly disappearing behind the horizon and darkening the sky, so he guesses you might be. He's holding a plastic bag of groceries; it's nothing much, just some fruit and vegetables and some sausages he'd managed to trade for yesterday because Ellie loved them so much. But Ellie hadn't been in when Joel had got home that afternoon, leaving a note that she was spending the evening with a friend, but would be home for the night. He'd sat in his living room for a few hours, reading and trying to occupy himself, before deciding he didn't want to eat alone, and packing a few things from the fridge into a bag.

And now, here he was.

At your door.  

After almost an entire minute of silence, Joel thinks to himself that you're probably still passed out somewhere, and just as he's about to turn and leave, the door flies inward.

The first thing Joel notices is your eyes. They're wet, as if you'd been crying, but somehow still filled with a groggy sleep at the same time. Your chest is moving quickly as your eyes focus on him standing on your doorstep, and some of the concern in your features melts.

"Joel," you let out his name, and your voice small, and tired, before you clear your throat, "Hi,"

"Are you okay?" he asks almost immediately, frowning slightly at your appearance, and he sounds alarmed, "What's wrong?"

"I'm fine," she reassures him, shaking your head slightly, "I was just having a nightmare. . . I'm kind of glad your loud ass knocking woke me,"

You say that last part with a weak chuckle, voice lightening slightly as you try for a smile, "What can I do for you?"

Shit, Joel thinks to himself, and he finds himself rooted to the spot.

"I uh–" he clears his throat, "Ellie isn't in tonight, and, well. . . no one's seen you all day, so I assumed you didn't have any dinner plans,"

"You're not wrong. . . if I have my way it's going to be some stale crackers and cheese," you comment with a grimace. 

"Not very nutritious," Joel hums, and you chuckle, nodding, "I'm no chef but I can definitely do better than crackers and cheese," 

Another beat of silence passes, before your eyes go slightly wide and you open the door further. "Sorry, sorry. . . forgot this was the part where I invite you in, I'm still half-asleep. . . come on in, please,"

Joel doesn't need to be asked twice, following you through over threshold of your front door as you disappear down the hall and into the kitchen, back of your hand coming up to wipe your eyes.

Joel isn't often in your house; it isn't entirely your own, and he'd heard from Tommy when he'd first gotten here that houses in Jackson were often shared to maximize space. He'd met your housemate, Bonnie, only a handful of times, including most of that handful when he'd fixed the wobbly bannister of your staircase a few months ago.

The house looks different since the last time he's been, and he can't help but notice new paintings hanging on your wall. They're strange, a haphazard mix of colored strokes with no particular pattern or purpose, but they're nice nevertheless. 

"Where'd you get those?"

"You want the honest answer?" you ask, as you step out of the kitchen and watch him looking, and Joel frowns jokingly as he looks at you, waiting for you to go on, "Bonnie and I got high last month and painted them,"

Joel's eyebrows fly up his forehead. "You what?"

Your smile becomes bashful as you purse your lips, Joel's inquisitive look making you squirm slightly.

"Yeah. . . " you say, clearing your throat with another bashful smile, before you try to shrug it off, "Eugene has–. . . anyways, it doesn't matter,"

You disappear back into the kitchen, and Joel looks back at the paintings, considering the new bit of context you'd supplied him with.

"You want a drink?" you half-holler, and you hear Joel's footsteps enter the kitchen as you reach into one of the cabinets, "I have tea or. . . gin, honestly. I know you're more of a whiskey man, but Bonnie makes it in the basement, and it isn't even half-bad,"

"You make gin in your basement?" Joel asks, and again you hear the same surprise in his voice as earlier, "Do you also run an undercover gambling ring, or. . . ?"

"Oh yeah," you respond, playing along as you step onto your tip toes reach into the back of the cupboard for two clean glasses, "We also occasionally organize cock fights, they're a big hit," 

Joel chuckles, setting the groceries down on your kitchen table, before he notices you struggling.

"Jesus Bonnie," you mutter to yourself, "Why do you always have to put the glasses in the back?"

"Here," Joel says, and he doesn't even think as he steps towards you, arm extending over yours to reach the glasses you're aiming for, the front of his chest brushing up against your shoulder as he grabs them, "I got it,"

The sound of his gravelly voice so close in your ear, and the feeling of his breath on the nape of your neck, makes you fight an urge to shiver, deciding instead to take a deep breath as you swivel around, facing him just as his arm comes down, two glasses clamped between his fingers.

"Thanks," you say with a soft smile as you look up at him, and Joel nods, eyes looking down and resting on yours for a second. You're standing almost face to face, the front of his flannel ghosting your own shirt. Then, he clears his throat, stepping backwards and away from you.

"I'll try some of that gin," he tells you, and your smile widens knowingly.

"I promise you won't go blind," you tell him with a laugh, and then you're on the move around your kitchen again, reaching into a cabinet and pulling out what looks like an old milk bottle filled with clear liquid, "Bonnie's good at it, believe it or not,"

"How do you even start brewing gin?" Joel asks as he sets the glasses down, and you chuckle slightly.

"We went on patrol once, in Grand Teton?" you explain, "She'd been making vodka by then already, but she saw a juniper bush and almost shit herself with excitement. . . it took us an hour to strip the damn thing clean of berries,"

"She a big drinker?" he asks as you unstopper the bottle, before pouring some of the stuff into both glasses, and you shake your head.

"Not more than me," you tell him, "But it keeps her busy, gives her something to do that isn't just patrol, y'know?"

Joel nods silently, before you hold the glass out to him. He takes it from you, ignoring his fingers brushing over yours and the way it makes his heart skip in his chest. You're not done with your drink, reaching into the fridge to grab another bottle, which looks like juice. It's a rich, dark pink color, and the little sticker on the side has a hastily scribbled 'Cherry' in your cursive handwriting.  

"Takes the edge off," you say with a sigh as you watch him read the label, and Joel nods, before he takes a sip of his gin.

It's quite pleasant, much smoother than the bootleg Whiskey he used to drink in the QZ, but as it travels down his gullet, it brings with it a burn Joel knows is going to make him regret drinking it, later.

"You weren't wrong," he notes, clearing his throat after having swallowed it down, "That's actually quite pleasant,"

"Right?" you ask, before you take a sip of your own drink. A sip is generous, and before Joel knows it, you've downed the entirety of your glass, frowning for a second as the liquid burns down your throat.

You can tell he wants to open his mouth and say something, but you're grateful he doesn't, instead putting his glass down with a breath and grabbing the bag of groceries.

"Sit," he instructs you, motioning towards the chair at the dining table that's in the middle of the kitchen, and you don't protest, only moving to pour yourself another drink.

It's silent for a moment as he unpacks the vegetables, but after a second, Joel speaks up as he runs the carrots under the tap.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Joel asks, "That the reason you haven't been sleeping? Nightmares?" 

Your response isn't immediate, and it's only when Joel looks back at you and sees your expression that he realizes this may be a sensitive topic. You give an uneasy smile, before shaking your head.

"Yeah," you manage to bring out, pursing your lips, "They're nothing too serious, I just wake up and then I can't sleep anymore, don't know why," 

You do know why. You know that sometimes the dreams are so intense, so scary, that you don't dare close your eyes again, at least not by yourself. Sometimes, you'd go downstairs, and crawl into bed with Bonnie. She'd been there, once, waking you from the middle of a dream while you'd been screaming the house down, and she'd not hesitated in taking you downstairs with her to sleep in her bed after you'd confessed to being scared out of your wits of being left alone.

Joel hums, nodding as he turns back towards what he'd been cooking, and you can't tell whether or not he's bought your lie.

"Ellie not home tonight then?" you ask after a second, and Joel nods, clearing his throat as chops some vegetables on one of your two cutting boards.

"She'll be home later," he informs you, "But she's out now, yeah,"

You give an agreeing hum, and for a second there's another silence that weighs heavy in the room.

"Joel," you let out, your voice a half groan, and he hums in question, peering over his shoulder, "The silence is killing me,"

Joel can't help the chuckle that escapes his lips as he goes back to dinner, shaking his head with a joking air. "Forgot you couldn't handle that,"

"I really can't," you agree, taking another sip, and Joel chuckles again. You watch the expanse of his shoulders and his back under the denim shirt as they move with his laughter, finding your fingers itching to just reach out and run your hand over the smooth lines of his muscles.

"You're in the wrong company for that then, darlin',"

The nickname jars you out of your thoughts, but it does absolutely nothing to quell the desire that had reared its head in your chest just seconds ago.

"I digress," you declare, trying to distract yourself from staring at him too much, "You're a good conversationalist when you want to be, Miller,"

"I'm so flattered you think so," Joel retorts sarcastically, and you smile into your drink, letting out something that sounds halfway between a giggle and a chuckle.

The sound bounces off the walls of the kitchen, and it makes Joel smile, aware that he's turned away from you and you can't see his reaction to your laugh.

"How was your day?" you ask after a second, your voice exaggerated.

"It was good," Joel says simply, aware that it's making you want to tear your hair out, "Fixin' the barn,"

"That was six words, Joel," you say, voice jokingly incredulous, "This is seriously like pulling teeth,"

Joel chuckles again, shrugging his shoulder, before he turns to look at you, grabbing his glass as he leans against the counter.

"Sounds like you got a decent challenge ahead of you then," he tells you, raising a teasing eyebrow as he takes a sip of his gin, corner of his mouth pulled into what can best be described as a troublemaker smile.

You love this side of Joel. Underneath all the rugged, surly exterior, he has something else to him; a witty remark, a teasing smile, a flirty comment. . .he has more depth to him than you'd ever expected at first glance, and something that spells trouble, something that drives you absolutely crazy.

"Never one to shirk from an honest challenge," you say, raising your own eyebrows, before you clear your throat.

Another silence fills the room as you look at each other, waiting for the other to say something.

"Okay," you say in a breath, rolling your eyes, "I guess it's up to me. . .but you actually have to answer some of my questions, okay? You can't just give me a wall of silence," you tell Joel, and he raises a joking eyebrow.

"Wall of silence?" he asks, and you give him a look.

"You know exactly what I mean," you tell him, pressing your lips together in thought, before you give a victorious expression, ". . . in fact, every time you pass on a question you have to drink," Joel chuckles, shaking his head as he crosses his arms over his chest, still leaning against the counter.  "I can do that," "Okay. . .what is-. . .," you trail off as your eyes sweep across the kitchen as you think of what to ask Joel, "-your favorite color?' "My favorite color?" Joel repeats, and he gives you a mocking impressed face, "Those keen conversational skills really helping you along aren't they?' "Joel," you warningly, and he sighs, arms uncrossing. "It's green," he tells you, "My favorite color is green. . .what's your favorite color?" "I'm asking the questions!" you say with a small laugh, and Joel gives you a furrowed brow, corners of his mouth pulling into a smile. "Come on, you really think I'm going to let you interrogate me without at least getting to return the favor?" he asks you, eyes boring into yours You press your lips together as you let out a joking scoff through your nose. "Fine, you can ask me questions, too–"

"And If I have to drink when I pass–" he muses, to which you roll your eyes again.

"–so will I," you assure him, before grimacing, "Though with my tolerance, I might not make it to dinner,"

Joel snorts, eyebrows raising slightly in agreement as he turns back to the counter. "You didn't answer my question,"

"My favorite color is yellow," you inform him, and you watch as the back of his head nods.

"That makes sense," you hear him say, as your fingers tap nervously on the table, thinking of what to ask.

"Dream job?" you ask, before adding, "And you can't say contractor,"

Joel is silent for a second. "Farmer,"

You don't say anything, despite your eyebrows raising in surprise, and Joel peers over his shoulder when you stay quiet.

"Favorite season?" he asks, and you smile, giving him a pained look.

"Summer," you say in a groan, and he laughs, shaking his head as he continues chopping, "Which sucks because Jackson mostly has winter,"

"The summers here can be nice," Joel notes, and you let out a breath.

"Sure," you agree, "They can be nice. . . nothing compared to the ones we used to get in Nevada, though,"

"I bet," he notes, and you let out another wistful breath.

"Do you need help?" you ask him, and he shakes his head.

"Think I can manage some dinner,"

"But it'll be faster if I help," you protest, "Come on, I can chop some vegetables, or something,"

"Alright," Joel eventually agrees, and you get to your feet, making your way over to stand next to him, before holding out your hand.

"Put me in chef," you tell him half seriously, but the corners of your mouth are pulled up into that smile.

You're standing close to him, but not so close that you're crowding him. Your smell nevertheless tickles Joel's nostrils in a pleasant way.

Joel's own mouth twitches in mild amusement as he hands you the knife, handle down, and slides the cutting board over. "You chop these, then. . . I'll get started on the onions,"

"Good thing, too," you say with a nod, before getting to work as Joel moves away from you, "Onions make me cry like a baby. . . cutting board is in the third drawer under the stove,"

Joel chuckles as he rummages around for another cutting board and a knife, grabbing an onion from the bag.

"Okay," you hum, nothing but the sound of chopping filling the kitchen, "Any hobbies?"

"I thought you were helping," Joel comments pointedly, and you snort.

"You're not getting away from me that easy," you tell him, "I can help and interrogate, at the same time,"

"That so?" Joel hums as he chops the onions, eyes moving to you for a second and meeting your gaze.

"Yes," you tell him, nodding as a mischievous smile overtakes our features, "I'm a very good multitasker. . . now. . . hobbies,"

Almost the entire bottle and an entire dinner later, you and Joel are sitting on opposite sides of the dinner table, dirty dishes forgotten in the sink. You'd just stood up to reach into the cupboard for another bottle of something to replace the almost empty one on the table, reaching up into the cupboard. The shirt you're wearing rides up as you do, and Joel finds his eyes drawn to the exposed skin of your waist.

"I got one," you declare as you pause from reaching in the cupboard "Any tattoos?"

Joel actually laughs, head tilting back for a minute before he returns with his eyebrows raised but his smile intact. "An old man like me?"

"I'm sure you were young once," you counter with a laugh, and he shakes his head with another chuckle.

"Very funny," he tells you as you pull a bottle of wine from the cupboard, "Where'd that come from?"

"Emergencies," you tell him with a cheeky smile, before pursing your lips, "Or nice dinners,"

"I'm going to take that as a compliment," Joel tells you, before downing the sip of gin that was still in his glass, and you hum as you come to sit back down.

"It was," you tell him, and when Joel looks at you, you give him an expectant look, "You never answered my question,"

"I have one," Joel says with a sigh, "But I got it when I was drunk, with Tommy. . . it's a stupid one,"

You let out a laugh as you open the bottle of wine. "No way! Where is it?"

"That's two questions," Joel reminds you, and you snort sarcastically, raising a single eyebrow.

"Didn't know we were actually keeping count, Miller," you retort, and Joel just smiles as he shakes his head, before he clears his throat as he sits up a little straighter.

"It's on my thigh," he tells you eventually, and a grin spreads over your face as you shake your head, before pouring him some wine.

"Classic," you say in a laugh, "I bet it was popular,"

"It was," Joel says in a humorous tone, nodding as he watches you pour yourself a drink, "What about you?"

Your eyes look up at him as your put the bottle down, tongue kissing your teeth.

"I do," you say, deliberately not elaborating, and Joel's eyebrows raise a little.

"I shared, darlin', now it's your turn," he tells you, and you laugh a little, teeth chewing into your lip as you look away, maybe a little bashfully.

When you look back at him, you speak. "I have four,"

Joel's eyes go a little wide as he looks at you in surprise. "Four? How come I haven't noticed four tattoos?"

"It's not that many," you defend, before shrugging nonchalantly, "Besides, they're not in places I usually show a lot of people,"

"Like exclusive access?" Joel jokes, and you give a full laugh, head tipping back slightly as your shoulders shake.

"Exactly like exclusive access," you return in between laughs, and for a second, it's just the two of you, sitting in your kitchen, laughing.

It feels almost normal, like you're just two adults, having dinner; no Jackson, no cordyceps, no apocalypse.

You take another sip of wine, eye calculating as you think about your next question.

"Do you believe in love at first sight?" you ask him finally, putting down your glass.  

Joel thinks about this one, leaning back in his chair, legs parting slightly in such a way that makes you fight the desire in your belly, pressing your legs together slightly as your heartbeat skips slightly. You fight an urge to blush at your own thoughts, chastising yourself for sitting here drooling over a man that's nearly twice your age.

"Yes," he says eventually, nodding, and your mouth parts slightly in disbelief, mouth curling into a teasing smile.

"You believe in love at first sight? You? Ice King Joel Miller believes in love at first sight?"

"Ice king?" Joel asks, raising an eyebrow, "You're giving me a bad rap, darlin',"

"You did that all by yourself," you note, half under your breath, taking a sip of your drink, and he frowns slightly.

"What do you mean?" he asks you, his interest peaked, and something bashful crosses your face.

"Nothing," you say in a nonchalant voice as you pour yourself more wine, the bottle already emptying way faster than you intended it to, and Joel raises an eyebrow as he sits back in his chair again. It's taking a lot of willpower for you not to stare at the way his legs spread or his arms cross, making the biceps under his t-shirt bulge.  

"I'm going to try that again," he tells you, and his voice is almost chastising as his eyes pierce yours, "And this time you aren't going to lie to me,"

"Or what?" you ask him, shaking your head with a small smirk, drinking again. You don't know why you challenge him, but you feel some enjoyment at the way Joel's eyebrows fly up his forehead in surprise and he kisses his teeth in mild annoyance as you let out a sarcastic chuckle into your glass, "You going to put me over your knee, grandpa?"

"Who says I won't?" Joel retorts swiftly, and he raises a single eyebrow as his eyes bore into yours.

It makes your heart skip, and something about his level, raspy tone sets something alight in your lower belly, which you try desperately to ignore. Joel enjoys the way your eyes flash with surprise and something he thinks he recognizes as lust, but it's gone so fast he can't say it with any certainty.

You're silent as you press your lips together, before you eventually let out a breath. "It's nothing major. . . just a bit of a reputation you have going,"

"As what?" Joel asks, frown deepening, but eyes still alight with curiosity as he scrutinizes your face.

"Emotionally unavailable, I guess?" you supply, and you try your hardest to keep your tone as neutral as possible, despite the knots of unease in your stomach.

Saying it about Joel was one thing; saying it to Joel? Awkward as fuck.    

Joel seems to think about that, staying silent as you fight an urge to wring your hands.

"Listen, it's nothing too bad," you tell him, giving him a tense smile, "I mean, it could be worse. . ."

"Worse?" Joel asks you, almost jokingly, and you grimace.

"Eugene's blacklisted for being selfish," you offer, "That's pretty bad,"

"Blacklisted?" Joel lets out in a splutter, putting down his glass with a thunk, "By who?"

You shrug. "Women talk, Joel. . . this is a small community, word gets around,"

Joel seems to consider this, before he reaches over the table and grabs the bottle from where it had been standing in front you.

"And," he says, pouring himself another glass, "Is he?"

"Is who?" you ask, frowning quizzically, and Joel looks up at you as he takes a sip front the glass.

"Eugene," he tells you patiently, eyes curious, "He really selfish?"

"How am I supposed to know that?" you ask him, before you narrow your eyes at him, "You asking me if I've slept with Eugene, Joel?"

Joel stays still for a second, shrugging. "Just wonderin' whether you have any proof to back up these claims,"

"I have plenty of proof," you retort, giving him a look, "He went on a few dates with Jeannie last year and she told me he barely even touched her when they–"

You stop yourself, clamping your mouth shut and pressing your lips together, before you shake your head. "We're getting off topic,"

"Off topic?" Joel asks humorously, "I'd say we just got on topic,"

"I'm not talking any more about this," you tell him, but the corners of your mouth pulling up into a smile betray you.  

"You can't just bring it up and leave me guessing," Joel replies, and you let out a frustrated breath, "Now I sort of want to know how selfish Eugene is,"

"Didn't have you pegged for a gossip, Miller," you tell him, raising your eyebrows, and he shrugs.  

"There's a lot of things you don't know about me, darlin',"

"Hence the game we were playing,"

"Mmh," Joel hums non-commitally, "Still waiting on that answer,"  

"Listen, all I know is that when Bonnie slept with him a few months ago, he didn't reciprocate much. . . apparently it lasted all of 5 minutes and not one was spent on her,"

Joel grimaces, nodding in agreement. "That sounds pretty bad,"

"I told you," you say victoriously, and he chuckles lightly, shaking his head.

"You sound entirely too pleased about it," he comments, and you snort.

"I'm not surprised, is what I am," you inform him, taking a sip of your wine, "Eugene is. . . well, Eugene,"

"You seem pretty close," Joel notes, and you don't know if you hear something else in his voice other than curiosity. You raise a single eyebrow.

"You asking something?" you ask him. 

"I'm not asking nothin'," Joel denies, putting his hands up, and you shake your head, corners of your mouth twitching into a smile. Then, you let out a small breath.

"When I first got to Jackson, Eugene's the one that let me in. . . I was a mess. . . hypothermic, covered in blood, barely alive, and for all he knew I could've been part of some elaborate raiding scheme, or infected. He had every reason not to let me in, but he did. . . he's the reason I'm alive," you explain to Joel, before clearing your throat, "Maria was furious with him, which I guess I understand. . . she has her own people to protect. . . but he never let up. He didn't even know me, and he stood up for me when they were still considering throwing me back out,"

"I didn't know that," Joel comments, and you let out a small chuckle.

"You know the old bank building?" you ask, and he nods.

"Maria said it worked as a jail but they'd never used it,"

"Oh, they used it alright," you say with a curt smile, "They hadn't learned to train those nifty dogs yet when I got to Jackson, and I was covered in so many cuts and scrapes they couldn't figure out whether or not I'd been bitten. . . didn't matter what I said. I was in there for two whole weeks while they waited it out, and Eugene came to see me every single day. . . Tommy, too, but it took him a few days before he started showing up. . . he'd only been there a few months himself, and I guess he wasn't keen to step on anybody's toes, which I understood,"

"Jesus," Joel mutters, and you can see the flash of unease in his eyes at the thought of you locked up in one of the makeshift cells of the bank, "Not the warmest welcome,"

"I can't blame them," you remark, raising your shoulders in a half-shrug, "It's a miracle this place has survived as long as it has. . . I would also have been apprehensive,"

"But, to answer your earlier question–" you say, clearing your throat as you sit up straight.

Because we both know what you were really asking.

"–Eugene tried to kiss on me once, and I laughed at him, so safe to say we are friends," 

Joel makes another grimace, trying to hide the pleased expression on his face as best he can, but you can still see it in his eyes. "Nothing like laughter to crush a man's ego,"

"Some egos need crushing," you tell him with a single raised eyebrow, before taking a sip of your drink.

"That's true enough," he agrees, before a silence falls over the two of you. After a second, you let out a breath, looking at the pile of dishes in your sink.

"I better do those before Bonnie comes home," you tell him, getting to your feet, "She has a thing about dishes in the sink,"

Joel gives a rare, knowing smile. "I'll help ya out,"

"Thanks," you say with a small smile as you reach the sink, turning the tap on as Joel comes to stand next to you, "Grab that towel? You're on drying duty,"

"Yes, ma'am," he jokes, grabbing one of the towels hanging off the handle of the cabinet.

"Ok, your turn to ask questions, now," you inform him as you start cleaning off some of the plates, "I'm out of ideas,"

"Alright," he says with a nod, before pausing to think, "You never told me what your tattoos were,"

"Now what did we say about exclusive access?" you retort, turning your head to raise a playful eyebrow at him, and he turns to look at you, corners of his mouth twitching slightly. You're practically standing shoulder to shoulder like this, his arm and leg brushing against yours from time to time, sending shockwaves up your spine.

"You tellin' me I gotta find a way to figure it out for myself?" he asks you, and his tone is lower than it was before as he looks at you, his eyes dancing with humor in the light of the kitchen as you give an innocent shrug, sucking some air between your teeth in a teasing sound, lips pulled into an almost-smile.

"Can't just go around telling everyone, now can I? Kinda defeats the whole 'exclusive' point," you muse, and he lets out something that sounds like a chuckle as he raises his eyebrows, nodding slightly as his tongue runs alongside the inside of his cheek.

Joel is so close to you now, you can smell the gin and wine on his breath. He doesn't say anything, he doesn't have to, his gaze saying enough for the both of you as it briefly moves from your eyes to the other features on your face, lingering on your lips a second longer. You feel something which you think are his fingertips, ghost the side of your hand, which is resting on the edge of the sink, and you swallow as you look up at him.

"What?" you ask him, quietly, raising an eyebrow, and he shrugs slightly. 

"I didn't say anything,"

"You're looking at me," you say pointedly, and Joel's mouth curls into a gentle, but teasing smile.

"Is it illegal to look at a beautiful woman?"

You swallow, hard, your chest thumping underneath your shirt.

"Are you calling me beautiful?" you ask him, and to your surprise, he nods.

"Yes," he says simply, confidently, his breath fanning over your lips, "Is that a problem?"

You're silent for a second, eyes looking into his as he watches your reaction. "No,"

The smile on Joel's mouth widens slightly as he leans closer to you, lips getting closer to your.

"Good," he whispers, before he moves to kiss you.

Except he doesn't.

Joel doesn't kiss you because at the last minute, heart beating furiously against your ribcage, you turn your head slightly to the side. His lips barely brush over the corner of your mouth before Joel freezes, which makes you cringe.

Stupid.

Joel pulls away from you slightly to look at you, and despite the amount of drinks you've had, your heart is beating a million miles per hour as you and Joel stare at each other, embarrassment dawning in his eyes as he pulls away from you more, closing his mouth and swallowing.

It's at that exact moment that you hear the front door swing open.

"Hello? You home, hot-stuff?"

Your eyes widen slightly as Bonnie's voice travels through the house, her nickname for you making your cheeks burn. Joel fully steps away from you now, putting quite a bit of distance between the two of you as he steps away from the sink and the counter, putting the towel down on the counter.

"Joel–" you start as you move away from the counter, but Bonnie's voice interrupts whatever you were going to say.

"I was working in the fucking school all day, and then we had movie night," she continues as her voice gets closer and you try and catch Joel's eye, but he isn't looking at you, "I know everyone loves the kid, but I swear little Johnny Raster is such a little cun– Oh, hello,"

Bonnie is a tall and broad-shouldered woman, and even though she looks relatively imposing to those who don't know her, she happens to be one of the friendliest people in Jackson. That's not to say she takes shit; quite the opposite, really, she has an even lower tolerance for it than you do, and you wouldn't recommend pissing her off.  She's standing in the doorway, dark hair pulled into a ponytail behind her head, green eyes observing the scene carefully. "Didn't know we were expecting company,"

"I was just on my way out, actually," Joel says, clearing his throat as he gives a slight, curt smile, "Ellie will have gotten home by now,"

"Yeah, I thought I saw the light at your place," Bonnie tells him, and Joel nods, still not looking your way.

"Right, that's my cue, then," he says, clearing his throat again, demeanour beyond awkward, before he looks up at you very briefly, "Thanks for the drinks. . . good night,"

"Good night, Joel," you say, your voice soft, and you try to disguise the undertone of pity.

You want to explain yourself desperately, but something about the look on Joel's face makes you think that wouldn't go down very well right now, anyway.

He grunts out a 'Bye' to Bonnie as he practically flees out of the kitchen, his footsteps echoing down the hall before you hear the distinct noise of the front door opening and closing.

"What's with him?" Bonnie asks, one eyebrow creasing down quizzically crunching her face as steps into the kitchen, "He seems even surlier than usual," 

"Don't know," you say airily, and she directs her scrutinous gaze at you as she picks up the bottle of wine, sniffing it.

"That's a pile of bullshit," she tells you disbelievingly, "What happened?"

You're silent for a minute, before letting out a sigh. "He tried to kiss me,"

"And you didn't want him to. . .?" Bonnie suggests, her tone confused as her sentence hangs in the air, before she frowns slightly, "He's hot,"

"I sort of dodged him," you tell her, grimacing.

"Ouch," Bonnie groans out, sucking some air between her teeth, "Well, that explains it,"

"Yeah," you agree, chewing on your lip, "It was really stupid,"

"I mean you're allowed to say no," Bonnie reassures you, "But did you want to say no?"

"I don't know," you tell her honestly, chewing on your lip as your stomach swirls with conflicting feelings, and she hums.

"Well, you better figure it out fast, hot-stuff," she tells you, putting the glasses in the sink, "Because if we can't call Joel when the banister in the hall acts up again, I'm going to need to learn to be a contractor real quick,"

You don't see Joel at all the next day; not in the town, not at the small market in the square you know he usually goes to on Saturday mornings. You think you spot him working on the scaffolding with the same group as yesterday, but you don't go and investigate, partly out of your own embarrassment, and partly out of respect for the fact that he's probably avoiding you for a reason.

Instead you spend the day cleaning the house, and helping Bonnie with her projects, and before you know it the sky is darkening again and you're on your way to the Tipsy Bison for your shift. You don't mind bartending, and there was no doubt you were a right sight better at it then you were at healing.

The bar is relatively empty when you arrive at 6pm, and doesn't start to fill up until around half past seven, when people typically finish up dinner and the patrons start trickling in. To make matters even more crowded, it's Saturday, and given the Tipsy Bison is the only bar in Jackson, Saturdays are usually the busiest nights of the week. Not that you weren't used to it; when you'd started a year and a half ago, Seth, who ran the place, hadn't hesitated to put you on Saturdays almost immediately, because, to quote "Who doesn't like to be served beer by a pretty girl on their night off?"

The people didn't really bother you, and to be honest, you'd gotten used to it pretty quickly, becoming a near expert in warding off any unwanted attention in a graceful way.

"Can I get a whiskey?" comes a familiar voice from behind the bar just as you're filling up a beer, and you look to meet Tommy's kind eyes, your face breaking into a smile.

"Whiskey?" you ask, frowning jokingly as you set the beer down for another patron, "That isn't your usual order,"

Tommy's eyes flash with something that looks like unease, and it takes a second for your eyes to move from Tommy over the bar, eventually falling on the one person you know likes himself a whiskey. Joel is sitting at one of the tables with the rest of the guys, observing your interaction, but when your eyes move towards him, he pretends to busy himself talking to Eugene. Your stomach sinks.

"Ah," you let out, your tone awkward as you look back at Tommy, your smile having dropped from genuine to half-disappointed as your eyes flash with something akin to sadness, "That's because it's not for you,"  

Tommy clears his throat. "Look, I told him to just–"

You raise your hand to interrupt him, giving him a small smile as you shake your head. "It's okay, Tommy. . . you don't have to explain anything to me,"

"Right," he says, clearing his throat with an awkward smile as you pour the drink.

"Can I get you anything?" you ask him pointedly, and he nods, swallowing.

"Just a beer for me, thanks,"

It takes a second for you to make the drinks, and you strike up a conversation with him as you do. "You guys finished fixing the building yet?"

"Almost," Tommy says with a nod, "Though we missed your usual coffee delivery today,"

"Sorry," you grimace slightly, eyes flicking over to Joel for a second before they fall back on Tommy, "I, uh–. . . didn't want to make anybody uncomfortable, y'know?"

You're almost positive Tommy knows what went down between you and Joel last night; either his brother told him, or he guessed it when Joel sent him over here to order him a drink, but you can see it in the way his expression morphs into one of awkward understanding.

"Well, I can't speak for everyone, but you could never make me uncomfortable, kiddo," Tommy informs you, and the smile you give him is genuine.

"I appreciate that," you tell him, laughing slightly as you put down the two drinks, "here you are,"

Tommy nods as he picks up the drinks, before he seems to hesitate.

"For what it's worth, I told him he should talk to you about it, at least,"

"Well, you can lead a horse to water. . . " you say with a tight-lipped smile, and Tommy nods with a snort.

"Too fucking right you are," he notes, which makes you chuckle.

"Have a nice night, Tommy,"

"You too, kiddo. . . anybody gives you trouble we'll be right over there,"

"Thanks," you say with a small chuckle.

The rest of the evening goes by relatively smoothly, save for a few over-zealous customers near the end of your shift that you manage to handle, but not before you notice from the corner of your eye how Joel straightens in his seat, eyes boring into the side of your face as he gages the situation.

You weren't surprised; ever since that incident with Sean Mixon a few months back, when you'd first started doing closing shifts on busy nights, Joel had stayed close by. It hadn't been anything too serious, but you'd ended up on Joel and Ellie's porch after closing time on the verge of tears to ask if he'd had any antiseptic for a grizzly looking cut on your arm. You'd gotten it after Sean had flown into a drunken rage and hurled a glass at your head when you'd asked him to leave, and one of the ricocheting shards had caught your skin. It hadn't necessarily been the worst of cuts, but you'd been pretty shaken up nevertheless, and given Bonnie had been away on a night patrol at the time, you'd ended up sleeping on their couch. 

After that, Joel had been there every time you worked a closing shift, come rain or shine, always staying all the way until the end. Even though he'd generally leave along with the last customer, you could always see Joel's living room light on and the curtains open as you walked home, sat in a chair reading or playing guitar but always keeping an eye on your porch as you got home.

This evening was no different, and it felt admittedly comforting to know Joel wasn't so angry with you he wasn't here as usual.

You'd spent the last 10 minutes doing most of your cleanup so you could corner Joel on your way out. You'd had pretty much the entire night to think and watch him, which had culminated into you talking yourself into what would probably be a relatively awkward confrontation about what had happened yesterday.

You wait and watch as Joel leaves, not looking in your direction, before you grab your coat off the chair and flick the light off, hurrying out of the door after him.

"Joel!" you call, watching as he stops in his tracks and turns back towards you, "Wait a second,"

You turn back to the door, locking it hastily, almost afraid he'll have taken off by the time you turn back, but he hasn't. He's standing still, half-facing you, hands stuffed into his jean pockets and shoulder hunched against the cold as you give him an awkward smile, jogging to catch up with him.

"Look, about earlier. . . " you start as you level with him, and Joel has to admit to himself he's surprised by the fact you get right to it. He had at least been expecting an attempt at some uneasy small talk.

"It's okay," Joel assures you quickly, hands still in his pockets, "I promise I can handle getting rejected. . . I was just a little caught off guard, yesterday, I thought–. . . well, it doesn't matter,"

"It's not that I'm not interested," you offer, almost timidly, and Joel feels a jolt in his chest at your words, despite himself, eyes moving from the ground to meet yours, "I just–. . . I want us to be on the same page,"

Joel raises his eyebrows slightly, his look urging you to continue.

You wring your hands slightly, letting out a breath that curls into the cold night air as your turns and start walking home, Joel falling into step with you. "Look, I'm not really a dater. . .um–. . . I lost someone I loved a few years ago and it was the most pain I think I've ever felt in my life,"

Joel is silent as you walk, hands in his pockets as he listens to you speak, patient, open.

He can see the grief in your eyes, but also a peace, one he'd longed to find for so many years and had only partially regained when he'd met Ellie. Sarah was a part of him he would always miss; the pain had only gotten less frequent, but it was never gone entirely, lingering within him like a smouldering flame.

"I'm just not eager to feel that again," you explain, giving him a watery smile, "So I just don't really get, er, involved. . . with, people. . . that's why I kind of dodged you, yesterday,"

Joel watches as your brow frowns slightly as you seem to cringe at your own words, taking another nervous breath as your fingers hang by your side, tapping your leg uneasily.

"At all?" Joel asks after a second, and your eyes shoot up from where they'd been on your feet to meet his.

His gaze is earnest, and you can tell he's genuinely curious, too. There's something else there, too, which you can't identify but gives you the nagging feeling you might've read Joel Miller wrong, after all.

"I mean, not at all," you bring out, frowning slightly as the corner of your mouth pull up into a slight smile, "I might be emotionally unavailable, but I'm not a nun,"

Joel lets out a small laugh, steps slowing as they come to a stop, and you look at him with a smile, stopping to face him. It's not very close to him, but Joel's steps carry him a little closer to you, closing the gap further until you're standing face to face. 

"Good to know you're still open to enjoying the finer things in life," he jokes, and now it's your turn to laugh, shaking your head as Joel watches the smile on your features.

"Yes, I am," you say with a remaining chuckle, clearing your throat slightly as you look up at him.

"So–" he speaks after a second, swallowing as his eyes draw you in, voice slightly deeper than it had been a second ago, "If I were to kiss you, say, right now–"

His gaze moves for a split second from your eyes down to your lips, "You wouldn't object?"

"Joel. . ." you say his name in half-warning, but you can already feel the pads of his finger ghosting the fabric of your coat, and you swallow, "We can't get involved. . . this can't become a mess,"

Joel hums slightly, and you feel his hand move, pressing his palm over the curve of your waist as his eyes look for yours, "Heard you the first time, darlin'. . . I can be casual. . . that's what you're saying, ain't it?"

You look up at him, into his eyes, and Joel can tell you're fighting with yourself.

You are. Parts of you are protesting that this is a slippery slope, that this is dangerous, and then the other parts of you are drawn to him; his presence, his smell, his eyes. . .god, those eyes. He has an almost irresistible look in his eyes, coupled with the beginnings of that troublemaker smile he has that's oh so rare – but oh so attractive.

It's like a moth to a flame, and when you feel Joel's hand move under the hem of your coat, thumb pressing a gentle circle on your lower waist over the fabric of your t-shirt, you can barely stop yourself from throwing yourself at him right then and there. You draw in a sharp breath, and feel the corners of your mouth pull up into a coquettish smile as you give in to him.

"Well then," you say, and your voice is almost a whisper, your breath fanning Joel's lips, "You going to kiss me then, Miller? Or are you going to wait around for the grass to grow?"

He chuckles, and it's low in his chest as you feel his hand flatten against your waist, pulling you flush against him so your lips are mere inches from his, looking down at you through half-lidded eyes. "You got a smart mouth on you, you know that?"

"Trust me, it's good for other things, too," you suggest, your voice half teasing, and Joel chuckles again, his nose bumping up against yours as his eyes dive deep into yours, rich and intoxicating and darkening slightly at your words.

"Well, in that case. . . "

Joel doesn't finish he sentence before he leans in, pressing his lips firmly to yours.

It's everything you imagined kissing Joel would be like, and as your lips move, reciprocating, you feel his other hand come up, fingers ghosting the side of your neck before you feel the pads of his fingers on your jaw line. When you press further against him, his hand moves to cup your cheek, fingertips grazing the hair at the base of your skull, under your ear, pulling you closer to him as you melt against his chest.

Finally, after a second, you pull away from each other to catch your breath, but as you do, you trap Joel's bottom lip between your teeth gently, tugging on it slightly as you pull away from him. You feel his hands tighten around your waist, and it makes the corners of your mouth twitch upwards in a smirk as you open your eyes to look back him. He's looking down at you, pupils blown wide and a half-conflicted look in his eyes.

"What?" you ask him, voice almost a whisper, and he shrugs.

"I'm trying to decide if it's too crass to ask to take you home tonight," Joel says, almost carefully, and your smile grows slightly as you chuckle, before you lean in and kiss him again.

This one is longer, more inviting, and your hand moves Joel's from your waist down to the curve of your ass. Joel lets something akin to a groan against your mouth as his fingers dig into your ass, and you pull away from him with another teasing smile.

"I'd be a little disappointed if you didn't take me home, Miller," you muse, and now Joel's mouth curls into a genuine smile as you feel his hand take yours.

"What are we still standing around talking for, then, darlin'? Let's go home,"   

[ms--lobotomy]

Welcome to the community! Love your style - haven’t had a laugh as good as while reading the worm post in a while.

How about a slice of life piece with Perturabo? I always thought anyone who he considers as a s/o must have a pretty strong personality lol

howdy, anon! first of all, thank you so much! second, im going to take "slice of life" as a slice of life in our universe, not wh40k canon. this means that i can diverge even more from canon than normal! fun!

enough yapping, here's your fic bestie

---

summary: you decide to do something nice for perturabo and he doesn't know how to take it because he is so emotionally constipated

word count: 989

content warnings: perty's a rude lil shit but you can take it, right? also implication of diddlin'

---

Beams of light found their way through the tree in your front yard into the window at the front of your house and onto the fake-wood floor. It wasn't much as far as houses went, it was small and ratty and some of the lights didn't work. But it was a place to live, and you and your lover had to take what you could get.

Clad in a t-shirt that was many sizes too big for you, you buttered up the old pan that you had and broke three eggs into it. One for you, two for him. They began to bubble from the bottom after a while, and you smiled. You weren't normally the cook in this relationship; he preferred to do the things like cooking himself. But sometimes he would bury himself in his work and forget to eat or otherwise take care of himself. Today was one of those days. When you woke up, you saw him already hard at work on another painting.

As you were getting the bacon from the fridge, you heard the booming footsteps that could only belong to your lover. Perturabo. Your heart stopped in your chest for a split second--this was supposed to be a surprise! Soon enough, he stood in the doorway, almost too tall for it. There was paint on both his shirt and his shorts. He began to speak, his voice booming.

"I thought I was going to be making breakfast today," he said curtly.

"Tough luck," you replied, putting a few strips of bacon on the griddle. The crackle it made was quite satisfying to the ear. "You had your chance and you didn't do it."

He walked over to you, putting his free arm around your waist. His arms were quite large He leaned over you, surveying your handiwork. "You let them cook for too long," he pouted, nestling his head in the crook of your neck. He wrapped his arms around you as you began to separate egg white from egg white.

"I barely cooked these," you said. "Do you want salmonella?"

He chuckled, rocking you back and forth. You couldn't see it, but a slight smile dusted his lips. "Even if I could get it from this," he took a hand away from you quickly to gesture to the food, "it'd be worth it."

"If you're sure," you replied, breaking away from his warm embrace to put his allotted two eggs onto one of the plates that you had pulled out.

While you waited for the rest of it to finish, you grappled for his hand. There were a few paint stains on it, and you had no doubt you'd be getting paint on your hands as well. It's not like you were going anywhere today. He looked... stumped at this development. Almost as if he couldn't process what was going on.

"What, you can't handle some good ol' Christian hand-holding?" you asked, using the broken plastic spatula in your free hand to move the rest of your meal to your plates. "Even after last night?"

The color drained from his face. You got him. You smirked, giving that stupidly warm hand that enveloped yours a squeeze. "No, but really. I promise you that you're just as worthy of affection as..." you trailed off. The people around him? That wouldn't be very worthy in his eyes. Unless it was someone like...

"You're just as worthy of affection as I am." You looked up at him, and the smile on your face was genuine.

You didn't know how a man of his size could let out such a little "Oh...", but he did. He sheepishly let go of your hand and grabbed his plate, the meal looking pathetically small next to him. You could see the wheels turning in his head as he thought of what to say next. Something genuine? Something flippant? Something somehow both?!?

"I wanted to show you something," he finally blurted out. There was still this flustered look on his face as he sat at the table.

You finished your meal soon enough, and as you put your dish in the sink, you felt a hand at the bottom of your jaw. You felt your neck turn at an awkward angle to look up at your lover, and he had a smug grin on his face.

"Close your eyes, dear," he said.

Oh. He said dear. This was serious. As you closed your eyes, you could feel the hand move from your neck to your eyes, enveloping them in darkness. You didn't know why he told you to close your eyes in the first place, but you weren't going to press further. He put his free hand on your shoulder and led you through the small house. You didn't get very far before you got to your bedroom, a small thing with just enough room for an easel and some art supplies.

He removed his hand. The painting faced you, clear as day. It was a beautiful rendition of him holding a worm. If it weren't for the clear brush strokes, it would have looked like a photograph taken of him.

"It's beautiful," you started, "but I don't get it."

"Remember when you asked me if I would love you if you were a worm?" he asked with a chuckle. "This is me. With my beautiful worm partner."

"Oh!" you exclaimed. You remembered asking in the dead of night, while you were nothing but a lump in his arms. He'd dodged the question at the time, but he'd clearly been thinking about it. "So you would love me if I were a worm!" you laughed. "I knew it!"

You threw your arms around him. Despite the difference in size between you two, he recoiled a little bit. He wrapped his arms around you and rested his head on top of yours. And in this little house, you were content.

[kenni33]

Kismet headcannons

Ages: (going from eldest to youngest)

Ablaze: 29 (bros pushing his thirty’s 😭)

Trickee: 28

Boom: 25

Branch: 24

Hype: 21

Nicknames

Ablaze:

Honeybuns(a joke nickname from hype calls ablaze,he hates it not a ship thing!!!!)

Blaze

Micky mouse

Darling (yet again a joke nickname from trickee)

David

Dadvid

Trickee

Stuart (branch just randomly called trickee this one day and it stuck no has any idea why)

Trickster

Trixx

Sugar t*ts (trickee once said smt sweet and hype started calling him this )

Tee-shirt(boom)

Branch

twig

Tree

Trunk

Roots

B

Bob

And all the tree / branch puns under the sun

Boom

Rainbow

Joe

Bread

Cavetown

Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeee x ♾️

Rainbow alphabet

Hype

Hyperpop

Hyper

Jim

Random head cannons

Boom wasn’t born with rainbow hair he made the grave mistake of letting his friend choose his hair colour and he just dyes it rainbow now

Ablaze was once angry at trickee so trickee got branch to hold a hose, hype to play guitar and boom to hold a hair dryer and he sung a sad song to get ablaze to forgive him, it went badly everyone got soaked , booms hair got caught in the hair dryer, the hair dryer caught fire (somehow?) but ablaze forgave him (trickee ate the last of ablaze’s cereal how dare he)

Ablaze and trickee live together . It’s mayhem .

Boom loves Alec Benjamin so does branch

Boom says he doesn’t listen to cavetown but he does

Trickee once covered branch’s bunker in every kind of

Sticker he owned (branch was not pleased)

Hype once challenge ablaze to an arm wrestle (he lose. and cried)

Trickee loves to prank everyone (mostly ablaze)

Branch, hype, ablaze and boom once’s blasted a smash up of all the songs trickee hates as payback for all his pranks

They was friends since they was kids but only started the band at the end of trolls 1 branch was called B and wore a mask

Trickee and ablaze like to joke flirt but sometimes your can’t tell if it’s a joke or if their actually flirting

After finding out about branches past ablaze unofficially adopted him

Everyone (but branch who was the voice of reason) once got really high and ate crayons they never spoke of it again (expect branch who told poppy)

Sexuality’s

Ablaze : gay (not canon)

Trickee : bi (not canon)

Branch : bi (not technically canon but it’s so heavily implied it’s crazy 😭)

Hype : aroace (not canon)

Boom : gay (canon)

Ships

(Warning these are my ships not everyone will agree)

Ablaze x trickee

Boom once had a small crush on Floyd and cried when he remembers (I don’t ship boom x Floyd btw sorry😞)

That’s all

[the-sky-queen]

Does your After Today AU have any designs for their real counterparts? 👀👉👈

I DIDN'T HAVE DESIGNS BUT I SAW THIS AND DIDN'T WANNA LEAVE YOU HANGING SO I SKETCHED THEM OUT AS FAST AS I COULD!!! They are very rough sketches though, so apologies if they don't look the best. (Also ran out of room for Silver and Blaze, so I'll just explain what I'm thinking for them.)

Starting with Sonic, we've got our pretty standard Nicky look with slightly different bangs, though no glasses for this boy. But I think the hoodie is still red. Also, I made his quills much shorter than Hero!Sonic's quills. This boy isn't fighting evil every day, he has no reason to make sure he can cut through solid metal with his hair. XD

For Tails, I changed his bangs because I can't draw his canon bangs for the life of me. (Or Amy's for that matter.) I was thinking for his shirt that he's wearing some kind of baseball jersey. We can let this kid play sports, as a treat. :D The number two is obviously a reference to his two tails, which yes, I let him keep! I figured since it's a mutation, it would probably still happen in the real world. The only difference is he can't fly with them. I also gave Tails glasses because yes.

With Knuckles, I tried my best to make him tall and bulky, since he's a football player. So basically, the Boom Knuckles look except not quite that exaggerated. Gave him a scar that he probably got during practice one day, but mostly because I really like giving characters scars. XD And then he's got a skull t-shirt and some shorts because he's a tough sports guy.

For Amy, I debated hard on what expression she should be making, and I ultimately decided on an indifferent pose because of character arc thingies I have in mind for her. :3 Changed her bangs, changed her hair a bit, and gave her a long sleeve shirt with a heart. She's a cheerleader with some cutesy clothes, not much else to say. (Also she's looking at her phone if you couldn't tell.)

Rouge was pretty fun because I LOVE putting her in outfits. Gave her bangs because I'm a Rouge bangs truther. She's wearing what I hope are some stylish popular girl type clothes complete with way too many bracelets on each wrist. (pretend she's wearing more than she is) And then some high heels to top it off! Also let her pierce her ears twice because why not.

Shadow's wearing a hoodie like Sonic, but his has some patterns! I think his hoodie would be dark gray with those stripes being red. He doesn't have red stripes on his quills since he isn't the Ultimate Lifeform, though I think he can keep his red eyes. Also gave him some emo bangs for fun.

Moving on to describing the ones I didn't get to draw! For Silver, I think he's wearing all white clothes. I'm kinda picturing a jacket with some puffy white fur around the hood kinda like the jacket I drew here. Also, I think he's wearing sunglasses, like he's too cool for this world. XD

And then for Blaze, she's a foreign exchange student and I'm thinking she's from Japan. So, I think it would be really cool and pretty if she wore a kimono! Maybe she's got her hair up in a bun with a pretty accessory/clip of some kind to keep it tidy.

Anyway, yeah! Those are my basic thoughts for everyone's designs! :D Hope you like em!

[crispybonkeggllama]

I think we don't talk enough about Ichigo wearing a tank top and something with sleeves covering it.

Because at first it's okay, you don't know, you go like "oh, it's just a normal look with t-shirt + smth" (not to mention Ichigo canonically likes to wear tight clothes 🥴), and - boom!- it's not a t-shirt, it's a tank top and your brain not functioning right any more.

Because it's TIGHT and SLEEVLESS and he's in his skinny jeans.

He's a bi catastrophe and there is NO WAY he doesn't know it.

And me, being an Uraichi shipper? Trully, they worth each other: one wears too revealing clothes that you have no chance to not look, the other wears too tight to be considered decent ones.

[wannabe-cartoonist-blog]

A kagakuro playlist but every song is a taylor swift song

this is the only thing i had enough brain power to make creatively right now rip. i've always associated a lot of t swift songs with knb (very obvious if you've seen my amvs/edits before) but randomly i decided to finally organize my thoughts a tiny bit while also challenging myself to pick only 1 song from each album. See the read more for a deeper dive.

Taylor Swift (Debut) - I'm Only Me When I'm With You

I'm only up when you're not down Don't wanna fly if you're still on the ground It's like no matter what I do Well, you drive me crazy half the time The other half I'm only trying To let you know that what I feel is true And I'm only me when I'm with you

This was an album where it was a bit of a struggle to find a fitting one, but ooh i think i landed on the most suiting one, if i do say so myself.

Fearless - Jump Then Fall

I like the way you sound in the morning We're on the phone and without a warning I realize your laugh is the best sound I have ever heard I like the way I can't keep my focus I watch you talk you didn't notice I hear the words but all I can think is We should be together

Kuroko being so smitten/obsessed with Kagami just makes me feel things, okay? If you want an angsty/pining option, I think Untouchable also suites "Kuroko pining over Kagami" vibes.

Speak Now - Last Kiss

And I hope the sun shines and it's a beautiful day And something reminds you you wish you had stayed You can plan for a change in the weather and time But I never planned on you changing your mind

Unfortunately, I had to go with an angsty one here, as my heart was simply pulled in that direction too strongly to ignore. I've been on the "Last Kiss is kagakuro airport goodbye coded" train for a while now. It just gives kuroko living his nightmare as kagami "leaves him behind" like all the others in his life have, but he's happy for him. Especially the "I'll watch your life in pictures" line, Kuroko would 1000% keep up with Kagami's professional career like a man obsessed even though being apart breaks his heart all over again. I think Ours or Electric Touch or I Can See You could also fit them, if that heals your heart any. I Can See You would probably be my second, most fitting pick.

Red - Begin Again

And you throw your head back laughin' like a little kid I think it's strange that you think I'm funny 'cause he never did I've been spendin' the last eight months Thinkin' all love ever does is break and burn and end But on a Wеdnesday in a café, I watched it begin again

I do think aomine found kuroko funny but the theme of Kuroko comparing Kagami to his past relationships (especially aomine in particular) is a favorite angsty trope of mine. I like the thought that Kuroko finds Kagami so effortlessly charming in his earnestness, which surprises/flatters Kagami (and others) because he thinks of himself as awkward/crass. He doesn't realize how effortlessly kind he can be, another favorite trope of mine. also just change "in a cafe" to "in a majiburger" and boom. canon.

1989 - You Are In Love

Morning, his place, burnt toast, Sunday You keep his shirt, he keeps his word And for once, you lеt go of your fears and your ghosts One step, not much, but it said enough You kiss on sidewalks, you fight, then you talk One night, he wakes, strange look on his face Pauses, then says, "You're my best friend" And you knew what it was, he is in love

I don't have much to say on this one other than it's one of my favorite t swift songs and oh boy the line about spending time at his place, borrowing his clothes, letting go of your fears and ghosts, and "you're my best friend"? oh lord. this is it. it's my favorite (idealized) depiction of their love story. i really want to write domesticated fluff with them and if i ever do, expect heavy influence from this song lol.

Reputation - King of My Heart

And all at once, you are the one I have been waitin' for King of my heart, body and soul, woah And all at once, you're all I want, I'll never let you go King of my heart, body and soul, woah

Confession time, I don't love this album so it was hard to land on something that I both personally liked and also found fitting for them. But I think this is it. I love New Years Day, but I think this song is more fitting. The whole "fated partners" trope is another favorite of mine and these lines really sell it.

Lover - The Archer

I've been the archer, I've been the prey Who could ever leave me, darling But who could stay? (I see right through me, I see right through me) You could stay

I was going to go with Daylight, but decided I wanted an angsty-er one and it is such a very fitting song for Kuroko ughgh. I love the trope that he has some sort of fear of abandonment issues that he deeply suppresses (Kagami also does) so I felt swayed in this direction to pick it for the list. (Plus if you're following canon continuity and Kagami actually doesn't stay? Ouchie ouch).

folklore - invisible string

Time, mystical time Cutting me open, then healing me fine Were there clues I didn't see? And isn't it just so pretty to think All along there was some Invisible string Tying you to me?

Once again, this is that favorite "fated partners" trope of mine (which is essentially canon, they call them the "fated light and shadow" i mean c'mon now).

evermore - willow

Life was a willow and it bent right to your wind Head on the pillow, I could feel you sneakin' in As if you were a mythical thing Like you were a trophy or a champion ring And there was one prize I'd cheat to win

Kuroko canonically (originally) becoming sort of singularly interested in Kagami to the point where he sort of thrusts their partnership upon him.....my boy said "I want that one" and went and got his man. icon.

Midnights - Mastermind

So I told you none of it was accidental And the first night that you saw me Nothing was gonna stop me I laid the groundwork, and then Saw a wide smirk on your face You knew the entire time You knew that I'm a mastermind And now you're mine Yeah, all you did was smile 'Cause I'm a mastermind

...This is obviously a continuation of the previous thought/headcanon (which is based off canon). This song conjures images of the post-inter high confession that I just made a video for recently; the scene where Kuroko confessed he schemed a bit for him and Kagami to be partners and Kagami knows and respects it (and reciprocates) i love that fact hehehe.

The Tortured Poets Department - Fresh Out The Slammer

Gray and blue and fights and tunnels Handcuffed to the spell I was under For just one hour of sunshine Years of labor, locks, and ceilings In the shade of how he was feeling But it's gonna be alright, I did my time Now, pretty baby, I'm runnin' back home to you Frеsh out the slammer, I know who my first call will be to

I decided to further challenge myself by picking a song from both the main version of the album and the Anthology. I think this song encapsulates both Kuroko and Kagami's feelings about their previous relationships (kuroko with aomine/the gom and kagami with himuro).

TTPD: The Anthology - So High School

I feel like laughin' in the middle of practice Do that impression you did of your dad again I'm hearing voices like a madman And in a blink of a crinklin' eye I'm sinkin', our fingers entwined Cheeks pink in the twinklin' lights Tell me 'bout the first time you saw me

Not much to say here other than I made a whole, full length amv for this one. now i have approx 11 new amvs i want to make and also i want to make the aokuro alternative to this one because oh boy, if you thought this playlist was a little angsty, you're not ready for what i'm about to do to you with the aokuro one.

[shakespeareallanpoe]

Batfamily Secret Santa

With the holidays coming up here's my headcanon for what each of the batfamily members would get each other if they were doing a secret Santa. (And yes, I know Bruce is canonically Jewish, but I believe either Tim or Dick are some denomination of Christian so I'd imagine they have a mixed holiday celebration at the manor)

Bruce (got Stephanie)

Ok so Bruce is super generous on a good day and I can't imagine Steph wouldn't be dropping hints since Thanksgiving, so he'd probably give her everything she asked for plus a new movie Wayne manor doesn't have, so after the celebration they could watch it together as a one-on-one bonding thing since he's pretty big on quality time in some versions.

Dick (got Bruce)

Bruce really doesn't expect anything for the holidays which is perfect because I have this headcanon that Dick is actually really bad with giving gifts. Someone bullied your little sister? Not on his watch. Life advice? He'll pull from his past experiences to tell you what not to do. Emotional support? Bro he's there. But birthday/anniversary/holiday gifts? Expect a mug with Snoopy's face because you both watched Charlie Brown together once. In July. He's just that kind of gift giver. So I'm thinking Dick would get Bruce a dinosaur themed 1,000 piece puzzle because Bruce likes dinosaurs and he likes puzzles so boom! Match made in heaven, ya boi is a genius. 😎

Barbara (got Jason)

Babs is a pretty practical person so her secret Santa to Jason probably consisted of a gift bag with manly smelling body wash, a gift card to Barnes & Noble, and a CD mixtape of Jason's Spotify favorites so he can pop it into a car and listen to it during long car rides.

Duke (got Damian)

So Duke is a pretty creative person when he's passionate about a project and his ideas are definitely one of a kind, but I think for some time he would really struggle with coming up with a secret Santa for Damian because he isn't all that close with Robin. He knew Damian appreciated weapons but he's also the type of person to not want Damian to think that weapons are all he is by getting him one. Presents for Damian's pets are off the table since Damian spoils them on every day of the year, so Duke would probably gift Damian something for the child he is, since Damian never had a childhood. Maybe a telescope so Damian could look at the stars with his family on clear nights. Just like what Duke's mom gave him as a boy for the holidays one year.

Cass (got Dick)

Cass didn't receive material gifts for most of her life so she probably enlisted Alfred's help. Given that the butler knows Dick pretty well, they decided to give him a gift basket with blue ribbon that had a T-shirt of his favorite band, some flash fuzzy socks (Wally would approve), and his favorite holiday candy. Dick is really more of a quality time kind of person if you want to make him to feel special, so it didn't need to be elaborate anyway.

Jason (got Cass)

I don't care how much people try to make Jason into a sexist, ignorant-to-the-fine-arts kind of person. Jason doesn't give a fuck about gender stereotypes and he loves learning, especially about classical things like literature or fine arts. For his secret Santa to Cass he got them both tickets for a weekend trip to Russia to see a ballet in person in one of the grandest cities in Russia. Cass has obviously been to many places across the world, but it was always for a mission and nothing more. For the holidays, Jason gifted her two days where they could travel and explore the culture, living like locals or being those stereotypical tourists just for shits and giggles. Just a few days without work to relax and live happy lives as regular people. When Cass got her gift Jason pulled her aside afterwards to explain it, so she wouldn't cry in front of everyone. And she did cry. Just a little. So did Jason.

Tim (got Duke)

Tim wouldn't think too hard about Duke's gift since he knows the people Duke hangs out with. Or could find them. Getting Duke a gift was as simple as casually running into Duke's friends and asking them about what Duke likes. Not that he or Duke's friends ever mentioned this to Signal, so when he opened his secret Santa and found some hyper-specific things amongst some more generic gifts, he began to wonder just how much Tim knew about his life.

Stephanie (got Babs)

Steph is absolutely the type of person to get someone for Christmas something they want themselves. So a lot of the gifts Bruce gave her look similar to what Babs got from Steph. Not that she means anything by it, but in her mind if it's worth wanting, someone else close to her probably wants it too. And Babs doesn't mind. She already bought herself a new desk light after the old one got knocked down one too many times, so it doesn't matter if she has a cute keychain to go on it.

Damian (got Tim)

Regardless of his age I think a younger sibling will always be a younger sibling. Damian would probably give Tim a large fancy gift bag filled with tissue paper... and nothing else. He'd do it just to see Tim's reaction to rifling through the bag for several moments to come up empty. Then, when Tim admits defeat, Damian would hand over a gift he asked Jon to pick up for Connor, nicely wrapped with Tim's forged signature and everything. He wasn't about to get Tim a gift but it's okay because he knew Tim would've somehow forgotten to get his boyfriend a holiday gift anyway. (And he did)

[honorary-fool]

Nameless Bard Cosplay Breakdown

Why? Why not (I want to share my creation especially with seeing so many tiktok cosplays of them, but never any guides/posts about how people. did stuff for them /lh)

I..don't know how well screen-readers will handle such a long post. I hope it works out okay.

Note: final image does not have alt image text at the time of posting, but I intend to add it later on

add alt text to images (all minus final since that would be a picture from the morning of)

Cloak

This thing is LONG. I'm about 5'1/155 cm, and this thing goes down to my KNEES (& big hood too!)

The inside fabric is from old off-white/beige bedsheets, and the outside fabric was from joann's (link).

I used a pattern from Aliceincosplayland on Etsy (link) (note: you don't need to buy a pattern to make a cloak- I bought it because of the different options between the lengths & hood sizes) ; for mine, I used the knee-length pattern & the larger hood size.

The large covered hook & eye also from joann's (link).

POCKETS! There's 2 small pockets close to the edges, & a bigger one I added this year to fit things like my PDM, testing kit, battery pack, etc. The smaller pockets have wooden buttons & button holes, the bigger one has a snap w/ a wooden button hot-glued on top because I didn't wanna tinker with the button hole foot.

Windblume Flower

I forgot what I traced but I made patterns for the leaves and petals & used a tutorial to make the tassels with red embroidery thread.

It's made of felt, hot glue, and I hand-sewed some bits like the button in the middle. It's also removable & fastens via safety pin sewed into the back.

Shirt

I gotta be honest, I forgot to work on it and tried to finish it about a week before the con. It looked like it was going well, but little errors made it look not up to the standard I was holding myself to and I hated it. I didn't even add the finishing touches with the shirt's collar's closure, or the ruffles on the cuffs of the sleeves. Instead, I'm using the original shirt I got off amazon last year (link), which I'm glad I kept intact when trying t make the second version's pattern.

I wanted to make another variation that was closer to his canonical outfit and was not made out of that plasticky fabric material (not that it was uncomfy, I just thought it'd be better for a convention center with a lotta people). The arm holes were a bit too big, the neck hole was a bit snug, and I botched the collar almost entirely. Lesson learned, make mockups and do not procrastinate on your projects until the week before the event.

I have the picture of it in this post.

If it counts, last year I made a slight alteration to the original shirt in which I sewed part of the slit in the top so it didn't go as deep. That's about it, honestly.

Shorts

Honestly, these weren't too bad overall. I cut the triangle panels out of white fabric, used embroidery thread for the criss-cross bits, and hand-sewed said panels onto the shorts.

It's great 'cus it has pockets and it's adjustable with the drawstring on the inside.

Wig

This fucker (part 2)

I combined a wig off Amazon (link) with wefts from hair extensions (link; though it comes with two I used just under one weft for both briads) to get the general shape

I went into detail on how I redid it here (also where the pictures are) but to sum it up: washed out hairspray/gel from last year, trimmed & rebraided the longer strands, used hairspray to do the bangs & gel to fix the ends.

Belt

I had this old brown fabric from an old sewing class project that I used. I measured the length by putting the rest of the costume on and using a measuring tape, overlapping a little so there was room to add the snaps for a closure. I think I used the trim from an old bedsheet and put it on either of the longer ends, then painted it yellow to match the bard's. Semi-reliable snap closure sewn in later, then boom, belt!

Lyre Prop

I forgot what I traced to make this pattern too, but I made it out of felt, essentially a stuffed toy. The little bar bit at the top is a separate pattern piece, as I tried making it all into one and was unable to turn it inside out. I forgot what kind of cord/string I used for the lyre strings, I just remember using mod podge to stiffen it as a finishing touch.

I used it last year as a prop, but I ended up just carrying it around so it might be best to leave home unless you plan to take a lotta pictures.

Miscellaneous Parts

Corset Belt: bought off amazon (link) ; It's comfy for the most part. liked the idea of a faux corset as opposed to the vest

Boots: last year I used a different set of boots that I've had for years, this year I'm using slightly newer boots that I got off my brother since they're small on him. They're timberlands I think? A li'l bit of height, lace-up, slight heel, feels 3% more badass /j

Makeup: I... know very little about makeup. I highly doubt the bard used makeup back then (/j). With that in mind, I really just use black eyeshadow & an eyebrow brush to fill my brows in and that's it. I use an old eyeshadow palette, but I also have an eyeshadow stick from the dollar store that works if you wet it slightly (mostly because it's a year old and is dried out by now..probably).

Wisp Prop: Touched on in this post, I like to take along one of my wisp dolls- the second one I've ever made, specifically. Made with my own personal pattern, he's easy to tuck away into a smaller pocket with just his head sticking out. I'll never forget the excitement of the Bennett and Fischl cosplayers I ran into last year when I took the wisp out to show them. 100/10, easily my favorite prop. The only real change made to him is that he has glow in the dark paint on his eyes, which probably won't do much in a convention setting but I still think it's cool.

Sword Prop: Very unnecessary & impromptu, but also very fun. At last year's con there was a vendor selling foam game/anime weapons and I got a foam Freedom Sworn. At the time of writing this out, I'm unsure if I will be taking it with me this year or not, since I can't exactly store it under my cloak when I'm not holding it.

Final Reveal!

(like I said at the top, this image is the only one w/out alt image text; I'll add it later)

(face scribbled over for comfort reasons)

[cleverfandomurl]

Just Wait In The Truck

Just Wait in the Truck

Older!Eddie x Reader- NO MINORS 18+ ONLY! PinV sex, Smut, Canon Violence, Domestic Violence, Abusive partner (not Eddie).

This does talk about an abusive relationship and some domestic violence. Read at your own risk.

I really hate the use of Y/N and all its variations, so you are using the nickname Lucky. It’ll make sense further in.

______________________________________________________________

Eddie drove through Hawkins on autopilot, back towards the new home he bought a few lots down from Wayne’s trailer. The rain was pounding down into the old Chevy, smacking into the windshield and booming thunder vibrated the steering wheel. The sun had set about three hours ago, the storm clouds steadily gathering over the mechanic shop all day making the drive even darker than usual. Eddie winced as the water hiding a pothole washed over and splashed into the crack of the window that he had put in to smoke a cigarette, front wheel dipping hard and clunking a few seconds later indicating the back tire hitting it too.

The headlights were barely bright enough to see through the rain, even with the bright flashes of lightning illuminating the gravel and broken asphalt drive into the trailer park. The trailers with lights on shone like small lighthouses on the road. He sighed as he passed the same people he’d known for decades. Eddie had lived in the trailer park for twenty-odd years at this point, with minimal changes to its residents.

Other than a few of the older occupants passing and their offspring selling the lots as soon as they could, the only notable change was you. Twenty-three, single and moving to Hawkins, Indiana of all places. It set the town rumor mill ablaze for about three weeks, and when nothing interesting happened after it was if you’d never moved in at all. You faded into the background noise of the town that he passed through like fog in the early mornings. Lucky, you had told him to call you after giving your first name. He had laughed quietly at that and asked you why, but you only gave a cryptic “Just always been Lucky I guess.” In response.

A sudden flash of light went off on his left, startling him out of his rainfall-induced wanderings and he slammed on the brakes of the old truck breathing heavy and looking for what had caused it. His eyes scanned the small field you all called a picnic area and saw a figure running toward the trailer he just passed on the driver side.

Your trailer. He watched, mouth hanging open as he saw you drenched from the downpour and running toward your trailer. You were barefoot, and in what seemed a thin t-shirt and jean shorts. Why were you running in this weather barefoot and no coat on?  Were you okay? You flew by the truck and up the stairs to your residence and slammed the door shut. Eddie frowned and continued back home.

The next morning, he knocked on your trailer door under the premise of “asking around about set off his security camera last night” to check up on you. You cracked the door open a few seconds after he knocked and peered a second too long before opening the door all the way to greet one of your favorite neighbors.

“Hey Eddie, what’s up? You aren’t usually one to knock on my door this early.” You smiled at him. “Do you want to come in? I was just making breakfast.” You stepped back, giving him room to enter if he said yes.

Eddie gave a half smirk and a soft laugh at that. Here he was trying to confront you about what he saw last night and you were itching to feed him like always. “Sure, Lucky, I’d love that.” He replies, slipping his untied boots off his feet and walking into your trailer’s front door.

“So, last night something set off my security camera by my garage. You didn’t happen to see anything did you?” He questions lightly. Eddie notices the way you stop breathing for a moment and freeze for a second. You continue fixing plates of Bisquick pancakes and fried eggs.

Placing the mix-matched plates on the wobbly wooden table in your kitchen, you take a deep breath.

“No, I have no idea what would have caused the camera to start recording Eddie, I hope no one was trying to steal anything.” You say carefully, your right hand coming up to gently touch your left shoulder before looking at Eddie watching you carefully and quickly dropping it to pick up the fork in front of you. Smiling again, you take a bite of the pancakes, filling your mouth and tasting like ash.

“Oh, I see,” he sighs out, “Maybe I can ask Jason. He awake yet?” Eddie follows up. He stares carefully while slowly eating off his plate. You don’t like how he’s watching you so carefully. Jason is a sore spot for you and Eddie. Jason hates that you and Eddie are close. Eddie hates that he sees the aftermath of the fights he hears during the night.

Eddie has repaired the holes in the walls that Jason’s fists have left. He’s seen the edges of what h suspects are bruises. He’s watched you cleaning up the broken glasses and plates. Even the small cuts from when the sharp points nick your fingers. It’s the worst kept secret in the Hawkins Trailer Park. Your inability to get out of the situation is why everyone started calling you “Lucky” and it’s stuck.

“Look, Lucky-“Eddie starts only to be cut off with “Eddie I really don’t want to talk about it.” You stand up abruptly and throw your half-eaten plate into the sink. Eddie rockets up, almost knocking over his chair and rushing over to hold you. He remembers what the anger felt like, with his dad in and out of prison. The lack of control of the situation.

He’s holding you from behind and the tears start to fall. “Eddie, stop I can’t. He could be home any minute…” You sob. “Lucky. What happened?” he asks, punctuating each word. “Tell me everything.”

[storiesbyrhi]

Bones and All - Chapter 15: Digestive Tract

Eddie Munson/Reader Series Masterlist

Warnings: canon typical violence/gore, swearing, abusive parents, animal farming/slaughterhouse setting (1 scene only); psychiatric hospital setting (1 scene only); discussion of religion; suicidal ideation/thoughts; murder; mid-level smut; no beta; updated each chapter

Synopsis: A Bones and All AU. What do you hunger for?

Chapter Summary: The aftermath. 3048 words.

A cockroach crawled out from under the vending machine. It scurried aimless patterns around the floor, stopping randomly, its antenna twitching. You had been here before - been lost in the feeling of hopelessness watching a brown little bug crawl across linoleum.

“You might wanna start talking now,” the cop said. He’d said it a few times though and you’d not heeded the warning.

The police station was cold. The wet blood soaked into your clothes was making you shiver, but nobody had offered you a change of wardrobe. They’d not even offered a cup of shitty coffee.

“Who’s the dead guy?”

“Where’s Bert Townsman?”

“What’s with the hair? Whose is it?”

Question after question but you were blinking long and slow, moving slower, not really there at all.

“Where’s your ID?”

“What’s your name?”

Briefly, you glanced at the cop. He had an unremarkable face and as soon as you went back to the cockroach, you’d forgotten it entirely.

…

“Jesus Christ! You couldn’t find a shirt for her to wear?!”

“It’s evidence!”

“Then put it in a fuckin’ evidence bag!”

Hopper’s voice boomed across the precinct. The police weren’t taking too kindly to a small town chief knocking down their door, but he wasn’t taking ‘no’ for an answer.

“Come on, kid,” he said to you, pulling you up by the arm and taking you into the toilets.

You were weak on your feet, but Hopper stood you in front of the sink and turned the water on. He grabbed an excessive amount of paper towels from the holder and piled them next to you.

“I’ll go find a shirt.”

You didn’t want to see your reflection. Too many times you had stood in front of a mirror with blood smeared across your face. So, you used the towels to clean yourself keeping your head low.

Hopper returned quickly, a woman cop in tow. You pulled your t-shirt off and dropped it into the plastic bag ziplock bag she held out, then took the old, oversized Notre Damn hoodie she offered. She’d picked it out of the lost and found.

“Thanks,” Hopper mumbled to her as she left.

“Y/N. What the hell happened?”

“Is he okay?”

“He’s still in surgery. What happened?”

“Is he gonna be okay? What did they say?”

Hopper could hear the desperation in your voice. He knew what it felt like to wait in limbo. He knew what it felt like to lose and grieve. “I don’t know… They haven’t said anything yet… Wayne’s on his way up. He’ll get there soon and give us a call here when they know anything.”

You nodded and took some shaky steps backward. Once against the wall, you slid down to the ground, pulling your legs up to your chest and holding on to yourself.

With his hands on his hips, Hopper sighed, almost wincing at having to watch you. “Look, I know this is hard. But if you don’t say something, they’re gonna start telling the story their way.”

When you looked up at the man, there was something in his eyes that made you wonder what he knew.

After following Hopper out of the bathroom and into an interview room, you gave a poised and clear statement. Sully was someone who gave you a ride when you were hitching. Then, he attacked you in a library in Muncie. Now, he’d stalked you to Notre Dame. No, you didn’t know who he was. No, you didn’t know what the rope made of hair was all about.

You described the way he wielded both a knife and his mouth as weapons. How he was like a wild animal, biting and ripping in some inhuman and ungodly way. It was all so very overwhelming and downright terrifying, you said.

“And what about Bert? Why have you been living in his place?”

In the first few days you and Eddie had taken Bert’s apartment and job, you laid the breadcrumbs out. Just in case. Wove a narrative about him taking off after some shady deals at a poker table. It was in character and the students you or Eddie told about it entirely brought it. In theory, a cop should be a more critical consumer of information, but as you told the story to the one sitting opposite you, he seemed to accept it.

“We found the deceased’s car a couple blocks down from the apartment,” he said as he closed his notebook and pushed away from the table a little.

The tone had shifted; you’d become a victim in his eyes.

“There’s a lot of stuff in there of interest… Might lead to more questions for you. Don’t go too far,”

“She’ll be coming back to Hawkins,” Hopper asserted before you could answer.

“No, I want to see Eddie,”

“Yeah, after that. Come on. Let’s go.”

…

The number of machines surrounding Eddie’s bed was upsetting. There were a lot of upsetting things happening all at once. As soon as you walked into the room, Wayne stood from where he was holding vigil at Eddie’s bedside.

“I’m sorry!” you started to cry to him. “I’m so sorry!”

Wayne caught you in a hug. “Hey. Hey. Calm down. Nothing to be sorry for,”

“But he-he-”

“I know. Hop filled me in. Eddie’s always been protective of family. He loves you, kid. He protected you. Don’t be sorry for him loving you.”

Wayne held you, rocked you on the spot, something you realised Eddie must have learnt from him. After giving you a moment, he let go and told you to go sit with Eddie while he spoke to Hopper outside.

In the hospital hallway, Hopper told Wayne that the cops believed your version of events. Some of the cops first on scene reported that some of Eddie wounds were more akin to a dog attack than knife, but there was no proof of that now. Sully’s identity would be discovered and he would be recorded as the perpetrator of one count of break and entering, two counts of assault with the intent to cause harm, and one final count of causing grievous bodily harm.

“Nothing they can do about it, now he’s dead. If Eddie makes-” Hopper stopped mid-sentence to correct himself. “When Eddie makes it out the woods, he can file as a victim of crime though. Might be entitled to a pay out,” Hopper told Wayne. “But if he wants that, then Y/N might need to provide some legal identification… And maybe things get dragged up that none of you want,”

“I hear ya, Hop. Government ain’t parting with any money if they don’t have it,”

“Yeah… I know they were trying to make a life up here, but it might be best for them to come home to Hawkins. Let things settle. Then try again somewhere else.”

Hopper looked at you through the open doorway one last time before leaving. He didn’t know what he didn’t know, but he was sure Wayne and Eddie were inherently good. That was enough for him.

Wayne came back into the room and pulled a chair up on the other side of Eddie’s bed.

You’d not moved, only placed your hand over Eddie’s and stared at his peaceful face. Listened to the beeping of the heart monitor, and the pump and whoosh of the ventilator.

“You’re like him, aren’t you?” Wayne asked, voice quiet.

Too tired to think, you just nodded.

“And the man?”

A nod.

Wayne didn’t know what Eddie was. Human, he was sure. He was there when Eddie was born. But something else too. He could make people disappear. That’s as far as his knowledge extended.

“You two have anything to do with Ted Wheeler going missing?” Wayne asked then.

The question caught you off guard, you looked over at the man wide-eyed. Your reaction alone gave you away. Wayne made a sad sort of face and looked down.

“It wasn’t Eddie. It was me. It was an accident. I-I didn’t pick him out or anything. Um. Wrong place, wrong time. I didn’t mean to. I don’t do… do that. I’m not like that. Eddie’s not like that.”

Wayne nodded once, still looking into his lap. “Ted Wheeler always was a bit of an asshole.”

…

They kept Eddie in a medically induced coma for four days. Although they’d been able to stitch him together, he was so fragile. His organs needed time to come back from the swelling, and his lungs were weak.

You and Wayne took turns being at the hospital. One of you would be there, while the other took the truck and got some sleep.

Max, Dustin, and all the others came to visit. Some brought meals for you and Wayne from their mothers. Some brought little tokens of their love for Eddie, leaving DnD figurines and guitar picks on the bedside table.

It was a Thursday morning when Eddie’s primary doctor made the call. “The scans show that the sutures have sat well. Most of the internal swelling has gone down enough to see there’s no major causes of concern at this point. And the skin graphs aren’t showing any signs of rejection,”

“That’s all good,” you said hopefully.

“Yes, it is, but he still needs to be able to breathe on his own. So, today we’re taking him off the ventilator this afternoon to see how he’ll do,”

“But he should be fine. Nothing says he shouldn’t be able to breathe,” Wayne clarified.

The doctor nodded. “I’d be surprised if he can’t, but then again, a wound that… messy… A lot needed to be improvised in the E.R. Hiccups along the road to recovery are to be expected.”

The day ticked by at an agonising snail’s pace. Each time you went for a walk, you’d return in ten minutes thinking you’d killed an hour. Wayne smoked his way through almost an entire carton. Finally, at 3:00 pm, the doctor returned.

…

Three Weeks Later

Everything was quiet. No music. No television. Even Forest Hills seemed uncharacteristically placid, so much so that you had to keep checking out the windows to make sure it was still there. And, it was. Your neighbour was out hanging her washing on the line. There were kids riding their bikes down the road. You even caught Wayne just as he was leaving for work.

As he came down the front step of the Munson trailer, he glanced over at where the small pull-along caravan his work friend loaned him was situated. He smiled at the sight of you looking wistfully out the window. You waved back when he raised his hand.

Eddie needed more than a fold out bed to recover in, but he refused to take his uncles in the trailer. The caravan was offered; a good solution that was working out well, even if it was only a little bit bigger than living out of a car.

You moved away from the window and went back to where you were making chicken soup. The monotony of stirring caught you in a trance, letting your mind go blank for a few beautiful seconds.

“Let me guess… Soup.”

Spinning on the spot, you grinned. “Hi,”

“Hi, baby.”

Eddie was sitting up in bed. You walked to him and inspected his torso. The skin graphs were healing well. He’d be a patchwork of scars, but he’d live.

“I know you’re hungry, but it’s too risky,” you told him.

Eddie nodded. “I know. Just feels like I’d be getting stronger faster if I wasn’t stuck on a liquid diet,”

“Hey! I made toasties yesterday! ... Look, I’m on it, okay. But we got through this because we were smart before. We gotta keep being smart.”

As well as crafting the story of runaway Bert and the legitimate reason for you and Eddie being in his apartment, you sorted through all the possessions you’d both accumulated during your time on the road. Anything that was… borrowed… from someone you ate was burned. It had felt good, really. Cowboy Cook’s hat. Steve’s wallet. Necklaces and books.

There was nothing left but proof of two semi-nomadic kids from small town America looking to start a life together.

“I know, I know. Sorry. I like your soups. I swear.”

You snorted and shook your head at him. “Get up and go sit. We’ll eat.”

The pull-along caravan’s layout was functional. Upon entering, immediately to the right was a dining booth. The table in the center could pop down to create a flat surface for a second single bed, but you and Eddie left it up. Along the far wall was the smallest kitchenette, the left side top corner cut off by a toilet/shower wet room. You couldn’t use the shower at the same time as each other, Eddie barely fitting in there alone. The lefthand side wall was occupied by part of the wet room, and then the double bed, which ran longways all the way up to the door.

When you slid into the booth opposite Eddie, putting two bowls down as you went, he grinned at you. The meal was void of conversation, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. You finished first, and watched as Eddie slowly taught himself how to exist with one less finger.

Sully had bitten it clean off. It was in your statement and Eddie’s. The finger was in Sully’s digestive tract, found during the autopsy.

You considered the empty space between Eddie’s left hand little and middle finger. Was it a bad omen that the place a wedding ring should sit was gone? Had he thought of that too?

There had not been a lot of discussion about Notre Dame. You thought about it all the time. It replayed vividly on a loop behind your eyes. Not Sully. Not the knife or the rope of hair. No, not that. It was the image of you lowering your mouth to Eddie and eating. It was the knowledge that you’d consumed part of him. That you knew what Eddie tasted like. That he was a part of you in that brutal and intimate way forever. That it left the dynamic between you so uneven.

Eddie finished his soup and looked up. Your gaze was fixed on his hand. He wriggled his fingers at you, bringing you out of your heavy thoughts.

“Lucky it wasn’t my right hand,” he said. You just nodded, smiled softly. “Can I ask you something?”

Figuring it was something small, maybe inconsequential, you nodded again.

“Why didn’t you do it?”

“Do what?” you replied.

“You know… Finish the job.”

You studied Eddie’s expression, lost for a moment until – “You mean eat you?! What the fuck, Eddie?”

“Wait, no, listen… I don’t mean ‘I wish you did,’ I mean… How did you stop yourself?”

Grabbing your empty bowl and his, you left the booth and dumped the dishes in the sink loudly. He’d hit a nerve; what the nerve was attached to, you weren’t sure.

Eddie stood but didn’t need to follow you. The caravan was small enough that there was no place to hide. “I mean, I don’t know if I could have,”

“Eddie, I don’t want to talk about it,”

“Why?”

“I just… I just don’t, okay?”

Eddie’s gaze burned through you, but he let it go, waving his hand dismissively and moving to get back in bed. For the rest of the night, he tried to figure you out.

…

The caravan windows were covered in condensation when Eddie woke. He drew shapes into it like a child with a magic slate toy. While he worked and listened to your sleeping sounds, he wondered how he had tasted to you. What did it feel like to eat someone willing? Someone who loved you? Who you loved? What was it like to have him as part of you?

It occurred to Eddie that he was jealous of something you seemed to be all fucked up about.

Eddie burrowed back under the covers with you, pulling you closer to him. You stirred, making little grumbling sounds that caused butterflies to unfurl from cocoons in Eddie’s belly. He pressed his forehead to yours, then pushed kisses against your lips.

“I love you,” he whispered into your mouth.

You lifted your leg to hoist over Eddie’s frame, and he held you in place. Burying your face in his neck, you kissed and sucked little bruises into his flesh. His fingers roamed, explored, eventually finding their way below the elastic of your underwear.

“Do you love me?” he asked. You nodded, lifting your head to meet his gaze. “Do you trust me? ‘Cause I can fix this. For you. For us.”

Eddie watched your eyebrows pull together in confusion; you were searching his face for ideas. He kissed you again, and again, and again.

“You need it to be even, right?” His voice was low, and the pain and ecstasy of him knowing you and understanding you caused you to hide your face back in the crook of his head. You nodded though. “Yeah? That’s okay. That’s okay, baby. ‘Cause I… I need to know what you know. I wanna… Taste… Need you to be part of me too.”

There was a very precise meaning to Eddie’s words and you did not misinterpret them.

He still had one hand in your underwear, slowly and gently teasing you. With his other, he found your left hand and brought it to his mouth, kissing each fingertip lightly.

“We can be the same,” he breathed out.

Tears started to roll down your cheeks as you whimpered and nodded. It felt like you were drowning. He had you pinned in every way. Mind. Body. Soul.

Eddie nudged your head up with the tip of his nose so you could watch. Your eyes grew wide and unblinking. He folded all your fingers down bar the ring finger. Again, he kissed the tip of it, then sucked it into his mouth and closed his eyes.

You took a deep breath in and held it steady. Grinding your hips into Eddie’s hand hard, you listened as Eddie’s teeth crunched through tendon and bone, watched as blood spilled out from between his lips and began to soak into the bed. Finally, you were happy.

End Note: Well, that's it folks! I would LOVE to hear your thoughts, especially if you've seen/read the originals. Thank you for coming on this cannibalistic journey of love and identity and belonging. It's been fun.

Fic Taglist: @azydrateanatomy @pussy-drunk @mrsdollardog @akiratoro420 @thatsbunnysmind

Eddie Taglist: @solomons-finest-rum @ruinedbythehobbit @munsonlives @sweetpeapod @depressooo-expressooo-blog @thorfemmes @hawkins-high @corrodedhawkins @grungegrrrl @lilzabob @mymoonisalways-in-scorpio @averagemisfit03 @ches-86 @ilovecupcakesandtea @onehotgreasymechanic @hazydespair @lacrymosa-24 @mel-the-fangirl

[tsarisfanfiction]

Carnage

Fandom: Percy Jackson and the Olympians Rating: Teen Genre: Hurt/Comfort/Family Characters: Lee Fletcher, Lizzy White (OC), Kim Ha-Yoon (OC) "Three deaths and twenty-six mutilations," or the immediate aftermath of the chariot race from hell, as experienced by one of the youngest kids in camp. Whumptober day 3, “Make it stop". Pre-canon this time; that throwaway line in Sea of Monsters about why the chariot races were discontinued has always intrigued me, so I figured why not try and explore it in a fic?

Lee was shaking.  There were screams in his ears, some echoes from earlier that wouldn’t go away, the terror as everything went horrifically wrong, and some still shrieking now.  Pain, grief, horror.

There was blood on his hands, splattered across his face and his mouth tasted of metal and it was disgusting but worse was the knowledge that it wasn’t his.  It was someone else’s, and no amount of spitting could get rid of the taste.

Chiron was shouting orders, and Ha-Yoon, too.  Lee tried to listen, but there was so much noise and his spine kept tingling because people kept promising that things were going to be okay, that things would be alright, but no-one was believing them.

Even without the tingle of a lie, Lee wouldn’t believe them.  How could he, when there was so much blood, so much pain?

He could see the crushed head of Berta, the head counsellor of cabin six, long blond hair matted with blood and skull completely caved in.  The one grey eye visible was glassy and sightless.  She hadn’t even been in a chariot, but she’d been in the wrong place when the Ares chariot had careened into the stands and something had gone boom.

Lee was pretty certain Ramona and Xander were dead, too.  The Ares chariot had been red already, but now it was liquid-red, and there was a single limp hand visible from the wreckage.  It wasn’t attached to a wrist.

“Lee!”  Hands grabbed him and spun him around so fast he almost lost his balance.  “Lee, are you hurt?”  It was Lizzy’s voice, and Lizzy’s tell-tale splash of dark pink bangs, but all Lee could focus on were the rest of the campers moving around, and the ones that weren’t, covered in blood and too still.

Ha-Yoon was shouting in English, he realised numbly.  That felt wrong.  His head counsellor never spoke in English.

“Lee,” Lizzy said again, and her hands cupped his face, forcing her to look at him.  Her hands cupped his ears, muffling the screaming.

There was so much screaming.

He blinked up at his sister as her thumb started wiping at his face.  “Are you hurt?” she repeated.  Lee shook his head.  No, he wasn’t hurt, just his ears ringing from all the screaming.

Lizzy’s orange camp t-shirt had red on the shoulder.

“Okay, good,” she said.  “Let’s get away from here.”

She didn’t give Lee a choice, tugging on his arm until he followed her, stumbling across the wreckage of the stands.

There was so much blood.  Lee saw Gabriel kneeling down next to Marisa from cabin five, his hand faintly glowing as he sang a hymn.  The words were drowned out by her screaming, her one remaining hand struggling to free itself from Gabriel’s firm hold while the mangled remains of her right arm slowly knitted up.

Lizzy pulled him past.  “Don’t look,” she ordered.  “Look at me, Lee.  Just me.”

That was easier said than done.  Everything was carnage and Lee tripped over one of the new Aphrodite kids where she was cowering behind her head counsellor as the pink-haired girl called out to the rest of her cabin.  It sounded like a roll call.

The Aphrodite chariot had been one of the first to flip, careening into the Hephaestus chariot which had then tangled with the Hermes chariot.  Lee didn’t know what had happened to the kids in it.

He wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

The Hephaestus and Hermes chariots had exploded.

He didn’t know what had happened to those kids, either.

Under his feet, blood-splattered stone turned to red stained grass instead, and he felt Lizzy pull him against her side, burying his face in her dark pink-purple dungarees.  “Don’t look,” she repeated, but not looking meant he could just hear more.

Ha-Yoon was still yelling, sending runners to fetch ambrosia and nectar and anything else they could carry from the infirmary.  Hooves squelched into the ground, and Lee know if that was the horses or Chiron kicking and tugging at the wreckage of the chariots.

The screaming still hadn’t stopped, even though the voices were turning hoarse.

Make it stop, he begged, but he couldn’t find his voice and Lizzy was still pulling him away.  Please, someone, make it stop.

“Lizzy!” Lee heard Ha-Yoon shout.  “I need Lee over here!”  She was still speaking in English, and it sounded wrong.

Lizzy muttered something that didn’t sound happy, but Lee felt her change direction, tugging them towards their head counsellor.

“Lee’s too young for this!” she argued back as they stumbled forwards, and part of Lee wanted to rebel at that – he was nine, now! – but the world was still screaming and he just wanted it all to stop.

“Do you think I don’t know that?” Ha-Yoon snapped back.  “Give him to me.  I’ve sent Lauren and Michelle to the infirmary and I need you to go after them and make sure everything’s prepped.”

“Why don’t I take Lee-”

“I need Lee here,” Ha-Yoon cut Lizzy off.  “Lee, come here.”  Her words were short and abrupt, but she’d just switched back to Ancient Greek, and Ha-Yoon always spoke in Ancient Greek rather than English and that comforted Lee enough to peel away from Lizzy’s side and stumble across the short distance to his Korean sister.

She let him burrow against her jacket, even though the fabric was damp in places.  It wasn’t as comfortable as Lizzy.  Ha-Yoon was shorter than their sister, and Lee’s head was pressed against her shoulder rather than under her arm.  “Lee, I know this is loud and scary, but I need your help,” she said, and he tilted his chin up until he could see her face.

“Mine?” he asked, wondering what he could possibly do in the face of so much blood.  He wasn’t a healer like Mitch or Gil or Gabriel.

Ha-Yoon nodded.  “We’ve got a triage system set up and I need someone to look after the people that are hurt but not badly,” she said.  “You’re good at healing, so I need that to be you, okay?”

Lee swallowed but nodded his head.  “Okay,” he whispered.

“Thank you,” Ha-Yoon replied, her voice softening a bit.  “Wait here, okay?  I’ll send the patients over to you.”

He whimpered as she pulled away, and felt her hand squeeze his shoulder lightly.  He didn’t want to be left alone, but he knew Ha-Yoon wouldn’t leave him alone if she had a choice.

He also knew that Mitch and Gil had been in their chariot, caught in the backlash of the explosion, and that they hadn’t got up from where they’d crumpled.

Mitch and Gil were the best healers in camp.

His first patient was the new Aphrodite kid, barely injured but shaking just as much as Lee had been.  Still was.  He was pretty sure her name was Silena, and that the two of them were the youngest kids in camp.  Her head counsellor, Belinda, was with her, and had a nasty cut on her arm that Lee hadn’t seen earlier.

It was something Lee knew how to treat – kids came into the infirmary with cuts all the time, usually after sparring with Ares kids – and Belinda obediently stayed still while he dabbed at it and wrapped it up with supplies Lauren had appeared with just after Ha-Yoon left him.  Other campers came up to him, white-faced and red-stained but never with anything worse than deep cuts, and every so often Ha-Yoon came by to make sure his patients were listening to him.

Anyone who didn’t listen to Lee definitely listened to Ha-Yoon.

Eventually, the screaming died down.  There was shouting, instead, and sobbing, but it was easier to listen, and to look, when he didn’t have patients to treat.

Looking was a mistake, but Lee couldn’t help it.  Marisa’s mangled arm looked horrible even after Gabriel’s healing, and at one point he saw Gil being run up the hill towards the big house on a stretcher, leg twisted the wrong way around and white poking up out of all the red.  Mitch had stayed where he’d fallen for some time, even after Gabriel ran to him after finishing with Marisa.  When he’d finally been stretchered away, Lee had seen something dark sticking out of his chest.

Slowly, things turned less chaotic.  Most of Lee’s patients left him once he’d bandaged them up, heading for where most of the head counsellors were starting to organise clean-up.  The ones that stayed tried to help him, or comforted each other.

But things were still bad.  The lack of screaming didn’t stop the blood from being everywhere.  The less injured campers moving around while the worse patients were transported to the infirmary didn’t stop others being dead.

Lizzy didn’t come back from the infirmary, but Ha-Yoon’s brief stops got longer and longer, until he had no patients left and just her for company, wrapping an arm around his shoulders lightly.

“Time to get cleaned up,” she told him.  “And to get away from here.”  She shooed him on ahead of her, towards their cabin, and didn’t let him stop until he was in the shower, a pile of clean clothes folded outside and waiting for him.

At the sight of the faint red swirling down the drain with the water and soap bubbles, Lee sat down heavily, wrapping his arms around his knees and cried, because there had been so much noise, so much blood, and he was only nine and people were dead.

He didn’t know how long he spent in the shower when there was a knock on the door, only that at some point the hot water had turned freezing.  “Lee?”

He’d used up all the hot water.  Lee sniffled.  “Coming.”

Lizzy was waiting for him when he stumbled out, dressed in fresh clothes but unable to stop himself from snivelling.  Her top was still stained red, but her hands were so clean they almost shone.

She was holding his headphones, the ones his dad had given him in a dream a few months ago and had been on his head when he woke up.  “Do you need these?” she asked him.  Lee snivelled again and reached for them, letting them close over his ears with a satisfying snap.

The bubble of silence they wrapped him in made him wish he’d had them earlier, when everyone had been screaming and everything had been too loud.

Lizzy tapped him on the shoulder, and he turned to look at her.  She pointed at herself, and then the bathroom, then at him and his bunk, ending her pantomime with a shrug.

Lee curled in on himself a little more and nodded.  “I used up all the hot water,” he admitted, his voice the only sound that ever got past his headphones and sounding a little tinny in the silence.  “Sorry.”

Her laugh was silent, but the way she waved her hand told him she was telling him not to worry about it.  She pointed at his bunk again, and Lee did as he was told, slinking over to it and curling up under the covers, even though it was the middle of the afternoon and he knew he wouldn’t sleep.

It was quiet, and there was no blood here.

In the safe cocoon of silence and blankets, Lee could almost pretend the chariot race hadn’t happened.

Almost.

[her-storybooks]

By Any Other Name - Chapter 7 'Red to Black.'

Chapters: 7/? Fandom: Criminal Minds (US TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Aaron Hotchner/Reader, Aaron Hotchner & You, Aaron Hotchner/Original Female Character(s) Characters: Aaron Hotchner, Reader, Emily Prentiss, Derek Morgan, Spencer Reid, David Rossi, Penelope Garcia Additional Tags: Making Out, Desk Sex, Light Smut, unspoken feelings, Angst, i guess, request, Aaron Hotchner is hot, Hurt Hotch, Almost Caught, Secret Relationship, Canon crime cases, Oral Sex, Shower Sex, Drunk Aaron Hotchner, Everyone keeps secrets, Angst and Drama, Crime Fighting, Mystery, Episode Related

Chapter Summary: Hotch catches Y/N sleeping at her desk. But when pressed for answers, refuses to tell him why she’s been acting so strange. During their latest case, we finally begin to unravel the secrets Y/N has been keeping from her team.

Chapter Notes: Oh, dear reader, this took a long time to write. I had written the whole chapter and then boom! Computer crashed and I lost the whole thing! The episode ‘Scared to Death’ runs in the background of this chapter, but it’s not the focus of this chapter. You’ll see!

There was nothing remarkable about walking into work on Monday morning. The process of going through metal detectors, flashing his ID card, and stepping into the elevator was a series of movements he could do with his eyes close. Yet this regular routine was comforting to Hotch. The team had been gifted a real weekend off. After running around after a traumatized drug addict on a revenge fuelled rampage. Hotch had gone home and held his son close, closer, and tighter than usual. Hotch welcomed Jack’s squirms and protests of “too tight daddy! Let go!” It showed Jack was still not completely in-depth to the small changes in Hotch’s mood after a difficult case. One day he will be older and understand why their hugs sometimes suddenly became tighter. He will be more aware of the dangers of this world. Right now, however, his young naivety meant tight hugs were just a nuisance when he was trying to play with his toys. The weekend had been filled with rare treats and visits to the park and zoo. Too much ice cream and chocolate had been allowed along with running around the apartment with piggyback rides. Now Monday morning returned the Hotchner boys back to their routines. Bedtimes were back in play; sweets were a treat and Dad’s hugs were now an acceptable tightness. Jack went to school and Hotch went to work.

Hotch walked into the ball pen, staring at his phone as he approached the small flight of stairs to his office. His swift rhythm stopped when his foot hit the bottom step. He heard a small snore and a rustle of paper. Turning his head towards the sound, he saw Y/N slumped over her desk. Her legs were crossed and resting on the cushion of her chair. Her body hunched over the table as her head rested on her overlapped arms. Her black leggings and fluffy socks a strong contrast to the FBI’s dress code. Her white t-shirt and grey hoodie clung to her skin as it stretched with her sleeping movements. Frowning heavily Hotch put his phone in his pocket and took large strides to Y/N’s desk.

“Y/N,” he nudged her shoulder gently.

It was like prodding a sleeping guard dog. Her eyes shot open in panic, quickly followed by her hands rapidly reaching for her gun. “It’s me! It’s me!” Hotch insisted loudly, hands stretched out to show no weapons. He saw the sleepy fear haze disappear from her pupils as she recognized the colors and shapes in front of her. Her shoulders relaxed, and her hands retreated away from her gun.

“Sorry.” She mumbled, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “What time is it?”

“It’s seven. Y/n what are you…”

Read More

[themculibrary]

Colorful Fic Titles Masterlist 2

part one

A Red, White, and Blue Christmas (ao3) - TriplePirouette peggy/steve T, 56k

Summary: White Christmas AU. Peggy is pulled from Project Rebirth, setting off a chain of events that leaves Steve and Bucky unharmed at the end of the War, but never having met her. Until, that is, their paths cross as professional performers. Steggy Secret Santa gift for Roboticonography

Black and Blue (ao3) - concupiscence66 sam/bucky M, 86k

Summary: Sam and Bucky are a couple of guys. A couple of guys who have been battered and bruised down to their souls, and who are in need of some serious rest and relaxation. Bucky would be happy to crawl back into his isolation, but Sam coaxes him into another visit to Delcroix. With no impending doom hanging over their heads, Sam and Bucky have a chance to really get to know one another and see if the spark between them might turn into something more.

Blue Eyes To Hell (ao3) - SmutConnoisseur steve/bucky E, 74k

Summary: Bucky lives a humdrum life in the suburbs and can't wait to see what lies beyond white picket fences and routine. But, unfortunately, his world will soon turn upside down when he meets a young man named Steve Rogers, a goody-two-shoes with the eyes of an angel but a mouth made to sin.

Blush Pink (ao3) - voluptuous_panic steve/bucky E, 3k

Summary: Bashful has always been Steve’s best look.

Feeling Blue (ao3) - Runarelle loki/tony T, 2k

Summary: Tony knew that Loki was pretty picky about a lot of things, but the fact that Loki seemed to loath the colour blue hit him as strange.

Green (ao3) - belby mj/peter G, 5k

Summary: He leaves the news channel on long enough for her to comment, "Must be fun, swinging from buildings like that. Well, either fun or completely terrifying."

"Yeah," Peter says. And then, because he's an idiot, adds, "He's cool."

Michelle shifts, kicks her feet up onto the coffee table. "Hm. I'm more into The Winter Soldier type. Dark, mysterious, dangerous. That's cool"

Peter is about to reply through a steadily deepening frown - The Winter Soldier??? Cooler than Spider-Man??? Really??? - but when Michelle had shifted on the couch, she had somehow ended up with her shoulder bumping his, their arms almost pressed together, and for some reason the warmth of her body so close is really distracting. So he doesn't say anything.

(Peter is a dumb teenage boy who just wants Michelle to think he's cool).

Green Curry (ao3) - FestiveFerret steve/tony T, 4k

Summary: Steve, who was the nicest most generous person in the galaxy and would give you the overly tight shirt off his back - and had done so more than once for Bruce, after a surprise Hulking - got weird about one thing: food.

Green Laurel (ao3) - VR_Trakowski pepper/tony T, 89k

Summary: It will not be long, love…

i want that red velvet (i want that sugar sweet) (ao3) - chalantness steve/natasha E, 5k

Summary: "I'm here for your birthday, of course."

Lilac Perfume (ao3) - redbrunja clint/kate T, 1k

Summary: "You don't mind me telling you this stuff, right?" Kate asked.

Why would he mind hearing about the handsome, age-appropriate boys she was dating? Not a reason in the world.

Red Black and Blue (ao3) - Jodygoroar steve/natasha E, 15k

Summary: Set beginning at the end of Captain America The Winter Soldier. Totally should be complete canon. This is my OTP for sure.

Steve finally gets up the courage to ask Natasha out on a date, it goes very well, despite completely missing dinner. Over the next few weeks their relationship progresses and they finally admit their feelings for each other to themselves. Things get hot and heavy in the first chapter and remain that way most of the way through this piece.

Red Satellite (ao3) - Pandagirl23 bucky/tony E, 78k

Summary: An Intermission Story:

A mission to Mars gone awry. One crew member returns to Earth in an escape pod, he is questioned about what happened on board. What happened to him? What has happened on that Space Station?

Red, White & BOOM!! (ao3) - EpicKiya722 sam/bucky T, 4k

Summary: The Fourth of July. Everyone is aware that that's America's "birthday". It's also ironically and unironically Captain America/Steve's birthday. His friends care, HYDRA doesn't and hopefully he'll see the next Fourth of July without being annihilated by fireworks.

sweet silver bells all seem to say, "throw cares away" (ao3) - weatheredlaw clint/kate T, 2k

Summary: The entire time, Clint grins at Kate from his spot by her elbow like an idiot, watching her flush with bizarre happiness at her team's poor communication skills and complete lack of cohesiveness.

If she had to admit anything at all, she'd tell him it's the first time they've all been this happy together in ages.

And if his hand on her knee is any indication, she thinks he understands anyway.

The Silver Answer (ao3) - enemyofrome steve/bucky T, 22k

Summary: On May 7, 2013, the sixty-eighth anniversary of Steve Rogers’s death, the war record of the 23rd Headquarters Special Troops was declassified. Overnight, their work in World War II became public knowledge: a “Ghost Army” that deceived and terrorised Axis forces with phantom troops, decoy inflatables, spoofed radio signals, professionally recorded sound effects—and the myth of Captain America himself. 

Steve Rogers never got the serum. He doesn't have superhuman abilities. What he has is a paintbrush, some stage props, a stomach full of spite, and a Bucky Barnes.

It's enough.

Upon a Hill, Across a Blue Lake (ao3) - I_Mushi bucky/darcy/steve M, 12k

Summary: Fluffy ABO - Darcy has a few run-ins with the police and a couple Alpha Avengers show up to help. She /really/ should have specified to Jane not to send her crushes when she called for help. Steve/Darcy/Bucky Alpha!Steve, Alpha!Bucky, Omega!Darcy

White Collar (ao3) - RovakPotter82 steve/natasha E, 8k

Summary: After being shot while on the job, FBI agent Natasha Romanoff goes on a much needed vacation to a villa in Tuscany and unknowingly falls in love with the art thief she had been chasing for years. They fall in love with each other and things get complicated when his real identity is revealed and the leader of an old Nazi art organization wants him dead.

Yellow Card (ao3) - superstringtheory steve/bucky M, 3k

Summary: Bucky enters the annual Nathan's Fourth of July Hot Dog Eating Contest on Coney Island in New York. He's very determined to win. Happy birthday indeed, Steve.

Yellow Journalists & Rose Gold Hearts (ao3) - heyjupiter bruce/tony G, 3k

Summary: When the Daily Bugle slanders Spider-Man, Peter Parker's loved ones show support in their own ways.

[ninjagirlstar5]

Protag Teruya AU - Prologue Part 1 - The Park Intro

Next stop, the park!

TWs: Pre-Character Development Hibiki (verbally abusive to Kanade)

The Beach (The Beginning) | The Mart (Part 2) | The Tower (Part 4) | The Cottage (Part 5) | The Boardwalk (Part 6) | The Beach Episode (Final)

Prologe Part 2 Beginning

Disclaimer: While Sannotori is problematic, it’s a thing in this AU/fic and the dynamic is not the same as it is in canon.

The Protag Teruya AU was inspired by @/anotherprofessional’s post! Beware of Void spoilers though!

The two of them leave the mart in silence, finding their way to a fountain in the middle of what looks to be a park. Not the ones with playgrounds or anything, but ones that have plenty of open space for picnics, a few trees for shade and a couple of benches on the pathways for people to sit down and rest at. There were cool horse statues present around the fountain, which reminded him of the Trojan Horse. Neat. A clock tower loomed over the fountain and he tried to read the time, but it seemed to be broken. The hands weren’t moving at all. Checking his own watch revealed that it was working but he wasn’t sure if the time itself was correct. Maybe he should check Kokoro’s tablet to compare its clock with his own once they’re done investigating. The sign nearby said that the place was called ‘Utsuroshima Park.’

…Seriously, what is this strange, distressing sense of deja vu? He wished he could understand why he was feeling this way. But every time he tried to force himself to focus, it only ended up hurting his brain and whatever information it was just kept getting pushed further and further away from him.

“You!!!” A yell broke his train of thought and he flinched at the sound, pressing his hand against his chest as his heart pounded against his ribcage. Mikado had a similar reaction, even going as far as to cover one of his ears with a cringe. They both turned to where the voice was, seeing what looked to be a giant of a man approaching the both of them. He had a muscular build, tanned skin and light-yellow eyes that held a fierceness that he had never seen in anyone before in his life. At least, from what he knew so far. His red hair had a fringe that was long and wavy, reaching near his mouth and he wore a vine-like necklace with a daisy attached to the center. He had a black t-shirt and what seemed to be a common firefighter uniform that was undone from the top and hung loosely behind his legs. His black boots with a beige vertical stripe on it completed his look and it wasn’t much of a guess of what his Ultimate talent is. But that's besides the point, he was coming straight for them!! “You both look like weaklings!!!”

“I…beg your pardon??” Mikado asked, his mask shifting into its usual wide-eyed stare. He was starting to get used to that.

“Your FACE is weak! Your VOICE is weak!! Now, give me a FIERY shout with aaaaallllll you’ve got!!!” He yelled loud and hard, pointing at them. He would’ve been right in their faces if it weren’t for the fact that he seemed to be aware of what personal space was, standing a few feet away from them. He can only stare at him with his jaw hanging wide open and his own eyes blown wide.

“I, well, you’re-” Mikado tried to get a word in but he’s quickly cut off.

“Not enough fiiiiiiirrrrrrrreeeeeeeee!!!!!” It looked like he was trying to sound encouraging, but his booming voice only made the wizard recoil even further. To the point that he ended up stepping behind him as if to take shelter from the man. It seems like it’s up to him to salvage this conversation and he forced himself to speak as loudly as he can to appease the firefighter before him.

“A-ARE YOU A HOPE’S PEAK ACADEMY STUDENT?!” He yelled, his voice cracking from the sudden volume. In fact, he was so loud that he could see another person with blue hair peer at them from behind a statue that blocked her from view. He couldn’t see her face from here, but the fact that there were other people watching them at all made him feel mortified.

“THAT’S RIGHT!! I’M A HOPE’S PEAK ACADEMY STUDENT!!!” The firefighter continued to scream out and-

“Enough!!” Mikado’s voice stopped him from saying anything else, surprising the both of them at its forcefulness. He can feel the wizard press his face against his shoulder as he grips his arms. “You’re too loud! Much too loud!!”

“Ah…” The man before them sweats a little bit before looking down at the ground. He seemed to be self-conscious after realizing that he was agitating Mikado rather than motivating him. “I-I’m sorry. I was just trying to lift up your spirits when I noticed how down you two looked.”

“We…looked upset?” He asked, surprised that he had noticed. He didn’t think he looked sad or anything. Yes, he was frustrated that he couldn’t understand his feelings of deja vu due to his lack of memories, but he was trying to accept that his amnesia is now a part of him.

“Yeah…You didn’t look happy with yourself.” The firefighter said, his voice still deep and loud but at least he seemed to be a bit more aware of his volume. He gulps though, as he didn’t realize it was that obvious he was upset about something. The man sighs before putting his hands on his hips and gives them a smaller smile. “Uh…Anyway, nice to meet ya. You must be my classmates, right? I’m the Ultimate Firefighter, Shinji Kasai.”

“Ah…Likewise.” He said, before nodding his head at Mikado. He didn’t move from his spot, seemingly curling up in his cape as best as he can now. Realizing he wasn’t going to talk, he decides to do it for him. “This is the Ultimate Wizard, Mikado Sannoji. He’s, uh, a lot more talkative than he looks, I promise.”

“Er, yeah. Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to freak you out.” Shinji apologized again, his face turning red from the embarrassment of earlier. He quickly bounces back though, crossing his arms with a wider grin. “But what’s your name? I bet your Ultimate talent has to deal with those goggles you wear, right?”

“Uh…I wouldn’t know.” He murmured, ignoring the pang in his heart. “I…don’t remember anything. Not even my name.”

“...Wait, do you…have amnesia?” Shinji’s eyes went wide with the realization and he reluctantly nodded.

“Ha, yeah…The, um, amnesia was the reason why I’m…kinda in the dumps now. It’s probably a permanent condition according to the Ultimate Psychologist.” He slumps his shoulders, allowing himself to show his distress. Shinji looks down at the ground for a brief moment before crossing his arms and smiling again.

“You know what? Call me your Big Bro from now on! I’m gonna train ya.” The firefighter said it so easily and carefree that he looked at him with surprise. It was only now that he realized that for as big as his muscles were and how loud his voice is, he was only a few inches shorter than him.

“R-Really…? Why?”

“Don’t sweat it, kid! I had to drop out of high school for a few years because of an injury, so I’m older than ya.”

“That’s…not the problem. I just…” He interrupts him.

“Nope! None of that!!” Shinji points at him again, his voice growing louder once more. He could feel Mikado cringe behind him. “Get over here so Big Bro can PERSONALLY train you! Let’s start with some laps!!”

“But, we have some questions- wait, wait, wait!!” He started but the firefighter didn’t listen, grabbing a hold of his arm and dragging him away from Mikado. The wizard just watched him go, his silent judgment emanating from his stare.

The laps around the park were, surprisingly, pretty easy. He was able to keep up with Shinji fairly well and he even praised him for his proper stance and steady pace. It only encouraged him to train him for ten more laps, but even when they were finally done, he only felt a good burn in his muscles and wasn’t all that exhausted as he expected to be. He still felt hella thirsty though, so he reluctantly took the energy drink from his bag and forced himself to take a swig of it.

“Well done, buddy! Not many people can keep up like this on their first try. I underestimated your strength!” Shinji said, puffing his chest out as he put his hands on his hips. He smiles at the praise before wiping his mouth with his wrist. “You even came prepared with your own energy drink. Mind if I have some?”

“Uh, sure…but I actually got it from someone else.” He said, handing the energy drink over to him without a second thought. “Be warned though. The drink is-” Shinji took a swig before he could finish.

And then gagged on the sugarless drink.

“-yeah. The boxer guy really cares about health.” His grin turned a bit more awkward. The firefighter gulped before taking a slower sip of the energy drink and then handed it back to him.

“Augh, I can tell with just the taste. Still, Hajime is pretty cool and we talked about training routines when we met.” Shinji crossed his arms and the two of them walked down the path. He can see Mikado from here, sitting on a bench and talking to a girl with blue hair. He recognized her as the same one who saw them yelling by the entrance. The firefighter starts to slow down when he sees them but before either of them could say anything, the girl spots them and lifts her head.

She’s a tall girl with a curvy figure and pale light skin. Her pale blue hair was tied into small curled buns which was held together by a black hair clip with a small yellow billiard ball labeled ‘9’ attached to it, and purple eyes. Well, he says eyes but weirdly enough, she has her right eye closed completely. Aside from that, she wore a gray striped long-sleeved shirt with a black tie clipped with a clip in the middle, a red vest with a gold trim and three buttons, with diamond patterns leading into her matching frilly jeans. A black belt was buckled around her waist and she wore sheer tights and red heels. The girl grins as she crosses her arms.

“Ooh, more cute kids spotted!” The girl walked up to them with a skip in her step. Shinji stared at her while he just blinked at her in surprise. “You must be a Hope’s Peak Academy freshman too, right? Like Kado over here.” She puts her hand on her hip and points to the sky as she speaks.

“Uh, yeah…? I think so. Are you a student too?” He asked and the girl lowered her hand, keeping up her welcoming smile.

“Good to meet ya! Your Big Sis here is named Setsuka Chiebukuro. Hope we get along!” Setsuka crosses her arms again. “I’ve come to this school as the Ultimate Billiards Player.”

“Billiards…?” He asked, pointing his finger at himself as his brain came up with a blank. Setsuka’s smile softens a bit in understanding.

“That’s right. Billiards is a cue sport where you strike billiard balls and cause them to move around a table specially designed for the sport. I haven’t gone to a lot of tournaments, but I’ve gotten sorta famous for winning perfect games for ones I have attended.” Setsuka explained, seemingly happy to talk about her sport like it’s her favorite thing in the world.

“Wow…I didn’t know billiards were a sport.” He admits as his brain finally forms an image in his head. He remembers a table covered in cloth and was bound in elastic bumper cushions. There was a cue stick in his hand and he could feel himself pouting over the billiard balls that didn’t fall into the holes. He hears a laugh but the memory quickly dissipates before he could remember anything else. He could feel a bit of frustration bubbling up but he stamps it down before it could get worse and instead smiles at Setsuka. “You must be really amazing at it.”

“Huh?” She blinks her only eye(?) before laughing and scratching the back of her head. “Nah, it’s not like that. My dad’s a billiards player, but I actually don’t even know how to play it…”

“Uh…then how did you get your title?” He asked. He thought Hope’s Peak Academy only chose the best of the best. But if Setsuka doesn’t know how to play…

“Now, now.” Setsuka grinned but it was more of an awkward, guarded grin as she raised her hands. “That’s a secret, my boy. It’s dangerous to pry into a woman’s intimate secrets.” Her smile suddenly turns more mischievous. “Especially when you two can’t even keep your voices down.”

Oh yeah, she saw that.

He felt his face blush furiously while Shinji turned as red as his hair, crossing his arms behind his back.

“Augh, how embarrassing…I wanna die…” Shinji murmured underneath his breath, while Setsuka’s grin became even bigger.

“Awww, it’s okay Shinji. You’re cute when you’re energetic!” She teased, which only made the firefighter’s face even redder somehow.

“I’m, uh, g-gonna go on a few more laps, actually. See you around, buddy!!” Shinji immediately runs off, escaping the conversation and leaving him to his confusion. Mikado, who has been completely silent up to this point, turned in his seat with his usual smile.

“Well, he certainly left as fast as he possibly could.” Mikado said. He just rubbed his head awkwardly as he didn’t know what to say to that.

“Mwahahaha…Shin makes it too easy.” Setsuka giggles to herself before relaxing her smile. “So…Kado told me that you have amnesia and it was so bad that you can’t remember your name, right?” He sighs.

“Yeah. I haven’t come up with a name for myself yet.” He pressed his hand against his chest, feeling his heart thumb against it. “I was told it was probably permanent too…”

“Poor thing. I thought amnesia was something you only see in movies…” Setsuka scratches the back of her head with a more concerned expression. She then smiles at him. “I don’t know much about the mind and body, but I could try and search for information on you once we get back!”

“Really? That’s…thank you.” He smiled. It’ll help to know where he came from and if he had a place to live or a job he worked at.

“Speaking of which, you sure are calm at a time like this, Ms. Chiebukuro.” Mikado said, seemingly becoming much more relaxed now that Shinji was out of the picture. The billiards player snorts.

“Hey now, Kado. Are you calling me simple-minded?” Setsuka’s smile shifted into the guarded one she had before. Mikado’s mask flattens its expression.

“Well, considering the situation we’re in, you sure took your time to tease our classmates.” The wizard points out. She crosses her arms, a more serious expression coming onto her face.

“Ah, you mean being on a mysterious island where God-knows-what could happen?” Setsuka pauses, almost dramatically before pointing again. “Not like I know anything, unfortunately!”

“Huh…? Then how come you’re so…” He searches for the right word that won’t come off as offensive. “….peaceful?”

“You guys are being too serious. The world is a pretty peaceful place.” Setsuka shrugs her shoulders and raises her hands, her smile relaxing. He can feel a little bit of doubt in his gut but he tries to to brush it off. “Maybe this is a surprise event set up by the school or something? This island is beautiful, you know? Seize the day, that’s my life motto.” Setsuka then lowered her voice. “And if something happens, don’t worry. With my devil’s eye…”

“Devil’s eye?” He turns to Mikado with wide eyes. His mask blinked at him but didn’t change at all.

“This eye has some very special powers. Mwahahaha…” Setsuka pressed her hand against her right eye, smirking as she laughed with confidence. The two of them stare at her before her laughter shifts into something more carefree and she waves them off. “Ahahahaha! Wasn’t that funny?”

“…I’m afraid I’m missing the punchline.” Mikado said, his mask finally shifting into its wide eye expression. He was similarly confused. Setsuka shrugged, not at all bothered by her joke flying right over their heads.

“You’re both too stiff, y’know? Just relax.” The billiards player then turned on her heel. “Well, I’m off to chat with the other kids~.” She then walks off.

“Well, uh…she seems loud, like Shinji.” He said, if only to fill the brief moment of silence between him and Mikado. The wizard hummed.

“In her own way, yes…And despite her claims, she’s as simple-minded as I thought she was.” Mikado was probably rolling his eyes underneath that mask and he winced at his bluntness.

“Wow, Mikado…you’re pretty harsh, huh?” The wizard huffed and he could see him cross his arms underneath his cape as he got off of the bench. Still, despite how easy-going Setsuka was, he wondered if they were taking this too seriously. So far, things seem pretty normal and the worst that has happened was the lack of people aside from their classmates. Maybe it was a surprise event Hope’s Peak Academy set up for them as the new class for this year, to interact with each other in a relaxing environment and work on their talents.

If only he could shake off this sense of deja vu. Maybe then he’d be able to fully relax like Setsuka.

“Yay~!” Someone yelled into his ear and he screamed, nearly jumping into Mikado. The wizard gasped at the sudden contact and his hands fumbled to grab him. A girl with curly purple-to-red ombre hair tied into pigtails with music note hair bands smiled at the both of them, like she was happy with her prank. She had a regular school uniform that was white and pink, with a giant yellow bow tie, white stockings, pink loafers and a dark purple sweater. “Hehehe, you two were totally surprised, am I right?” The two of them stared at her, too stunned to say anything. The girl then frowned. “Hey, Kanade! Why didn’t you do it like I told you to?! You were supposed to help me surprise them!” They both turned around to see another person standing right behind them. It didn’t take a genius to realize that these two were twins, as they looked almost exactly alike, uniform, hairstyle and all. The only difference he can tell was that this girl had a different kind of music notes for her hair bands, rounder eyes, straighter hair and, uh, for lack of a better word, a bustier chest. A little too busty if you ask him. Doesn’t her back hurt at all?

“S-Sorry, Hibiki…” Her sister, Kanade, looked down as she played with the collar of her uniform. Her sister suddenly points at her.

“Call me ‘Sis’! Why do you suddenly think you can call your sister by her name, huh?” She yelled out, which only surprised the both of them further. “Am I your friend or something?!”

“Eeek! S-Sorry, Sis, p-please don’t be angry!” Kanade cried out, cowering from her twin sister as she raised her hands to cover her face. He’s pretty sure he can see tears.

“Um…excuse me…” He starts to bud in. But the twin seemingly named Hibiki bulldozes over him without a second thought.

“Ah, my intro…By the looks of your clothes, you must be Hope’s Peak freshmen, right?” She glances at both Mikado and himself. He wasn’t necessarily wearing a uniform, but perhaps he was homeschooled? Ha, maybe he was rich enough to have tutors. Wouldn’t that be funny? “I’m Hibiki Otonokoji! And she’s Kanade! My twin sister.” She raises her hands up cheerfully, as if she wasn’t berating her sister just moments ago. He felt a little bit of annoyance at that.

“H-Hello.” Kanade puts her hands behind her back, smiling up at both of them shyly.

“I see…Nice to meet you. I’m Mikado Sannoji, the Ultimate Wizard. And this is our classmate…He currently hasn’t come up with a name yet due to his amnesia.” Mikado said, courteous but his smile was large and seemingly ungenuine. He couldn’t blame him, considering Hibiki didn’t seem to be the nicest person around. Hibiki huffs, putting her hands on her hips.

“Hmpf, you two sure have a lackluster response. This guy I understand because of his amnesia.” She points at him and he couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable being singled out. The singer shifts her pointing to Mikado. “But you? Come on, haven’t you heard of the popular band, Melody Rhythm? We were top of the charts just last week!” She winks at them before putting her hands down. “Of course, that means we got scouted out as the Ultimate Vocalist and the Ultimate Guitarist!”

“Hmm…Well, clearly you two are talented if Hope’s Peak scouted you out…” Mikado spoke slowly as if he was building up to something. Only to suddenly shrug with an enthusiastic face. “Unfortunately, I haven’t heard of you. Sorry!” Clearly, he was not sorry at all.

“W-Wait, what?! You’ve seriously never heard of us?” Hibiki said, sweating a little as she raised her hands but being unsure of what to do with them. She then leaned forward with gritted teeth and clenched fists. “Ugh, you’re the worst! It’s impossible! How can you not know us?! Right, Kanade? Right?” He cringes. The more she speaks, the more whiny she sounds. Kanade remained silent, staring at her sister in concern. But the girl quickly bounces back before pointing at the both of them. “I guess there’s no choice! Get ready for a live performance! We’re gonna show these people who we are right here!”

“W-Wow, right here? Right now?” He said, gaping at her claim. Mikado, however, was cringing and took a step back. He looked like he was ready to run at any moment now.

“Th-That’d be impossible, Sister. We don’t have any instruments…or speakers…” Kanade spoke up, looking down at the ground. She seemed to have been dreading this moment.

“Impossible…?” Hibiki hissed out, turning onto her sister with a dark look and raising her hand. He tensed at the sight. “You’re disobeying your dear sister’s orders, huh? Is that it?”

“...Huh? Eh? N-No…Sis, it’s nothing like that…!” Kanade looked up with tears brimming in her eyes and sweating just a tiny bit, curling her hands into fists and pressing them close to herself as if to make herself look as meek as possible. And then Hibiki turned back to them with a wink, hands on her hips once more.

“It’s just a joke~!” She said, turning back around just when the two of them gave her disbelieving looks. That did not look like a joke just now. “You’re such a scaredy-cat, Kanade! Obviously we aren’t gonna perform live right here. Not even I could manage that.”

“Right…um, of course…” He pressed his hand against his chest, trying to figure out where to go from here. He decided to try and step in to see if he could get Hibiki to calm down a little. “Uh, please don’t fight with your sister. She’s your family and I’d like to get along with the both of you.”

“Huh? We’re not fighting.” Hibiki raised her hands happily, brushing off his concern. “We’re always like this. I’m just joking around, y’know~?” Kanade looked back down at the ground with a sigh.

“...I don’t have a sibling, as far as I’m aware, but I really don’t think siblings should act like this.” Mikado said, his mask going back to its flat expression.

“Oh yeah? Don’t talk about what you don’t know! Especially with a talent like magic. Seriously, what’s up with that?” Hibiki instantly shot back while pointing at him. Mikado’s eyes flared for a brief moment but it was exactly the kind of reaction the singer was looking for. She grinned, putting her hands on her hips. “What are you gonna do? Pull a rabbit out of your hat?” Mikado just stared at her, calming down in a few seconds before his mask gave her his mischievous smile. He suddenly grows a few inches tall, almost eye level with himself which surprised him a lot. Hibiki had a similar reaction with her eyes going wide and taking a step back. Kanade stared at him with interest, glancing at his feet which in turn made him look down-

-and realize that Mikado didn’t grow taller, but rather he was levitating.

“I don’t know, Ms. Hibiki.” Mikado said, his eyes becoming pointy with his vocal jabbing. He suddenly leans back, crossing his arms behind his head and putting one leg over his knee. “You tell me~.”

“Wh-Wha…you…you…!” Hibiki struggled to come up with a comeback, which only made Mikado’s mask shift into a mischievous grin. She huffs as she stomps her foot, turning her attention onto him instead. Great. “Ugh, forget him. What about you? Do you remember your talent?”

“Um…no.” He said, deciding that it’s probably for the best that he ripped off the band aid and get this conversation over with.

“Seriously?! As if forgetting your own identity is bad enough, you don’t even know why you were selected for Hope’s Peak! That must be tough…” Hibiki, to her credit, did seem genuine in her concern.

“Moving on.” Mikado said, not willing to let Hibiki straight up ignore him. He floats behind him, still having his arms crossed behind his head but otherwise serious in his tone and expression. “Do either of you know what’s going on here?”

“What’s…going on?” Kanade kept her head tilted away, but her eyes never left Mikado’s. Hibiki glared at him, but shifted her gaze away and pointed to herself.

“Ehhhhh, isn’t this a surprise ceremony? That’s what that blue-haired girl over there told us.” Hibiki didn’t seem all that worried.

“But she’s also a simple-minded girl that’s clearly too relaxed in a situation like this.” Mikado countered, his gaze flattening once more. The singer glared at him again, seemingly hoping to vaporize him on the spot. He just wished he wasn’t in the middle of both of them like this.

“Still…a surprise event…” He sighs. “I’d like that over something horrible.” He can feel Mikado breaking eye contact with Hibiki to look at him, his mask ironically hiding whatever emotion he’s feeling despite constantly changing for him.

“Ah, we gotta go now! We saw something really fun over there.” Hibiki turned her gaze to something far off in the distance, grabbing a hold of her sister without another thought. She then points at him, an inflated ego coming off of her in waves. “Better brace yourself! After hearing us live, you’ll be addicted to our music! Let’s go, Kanade!”

“S-Sis, wait for me…” Kanade let herself get dragged off, tears forming in her eyes again but for a brief moment, he thought he saw a smile trying to break out on her face. Weird.

“...Do you think I’ll end up addicted to their music?” He asked, turning his head towards the wizard. Mikado tilts his head before shrugging.

“I don’t know. I don’t really listen to music all that much. Never had the opportunity to.” Mikado put his arms down and stood up straighter, although he was still levitating off of the ground. “That aside, everyone is much too calm right now…Especially those two. You can feel their immaturity radiating off of them.”

“Especially Hibiki.” He closed his eyes as he rubbed his head, his fingers brushing against the goggles. He feels a sense of comfort just by touching them. “I don’t think I like Hibiki…”

“Me neither. Celebrities are overrated anyways.” Mikado shrugged before turning around. “Why don’t we search someplace else? There seems to be nothing else of interest here.”

“...So, were you ever going to tell me that you can fly? Cause that would be super useful right now…” He didn’t feel like walking. But the wizard was flying further and further away from him.

“I’m afraid there are no other seats for this ride, my dear. Unless you wish for me to carry you?” His tone of voice was light and teasing and he could feel a blush rising in his cheeks. He turns his head away, walking back to the entrance of the park.

“Tempting, but no.” He was a little tired but he hasn’t completely given up his pride just yet. Mikado chuckled before floating after him.