#yes I know this is soft and OOC
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Just wanna see the fandom consensus
#Jonathan Crane#Scarecrow#Halloween#i honestly think#he'd love seeing kids dress up#especially if it's dressing up as him!!#also halloween is suppose to be fun for kids#so obviously he'd give out king sized candy bars#yes I know this is soft and OOC#I don't care lol
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Ok just hear me out, Vox singing this to Alastor before he disappeared for 7 years.
#yes i know this a bit ooc#but just like imagine there in an qpr or friends or something pre alastor disappearing#and then Alastor tells Vox he has to leave (he is being called away by lilith)#so vox sings this because you know#same voice actor#and then over the 7 years apart vox is more and more bitter towards alastor for leaving#idk y'all i just love them and think they can be soft if they want to while still keeping in mind that alastor is aroace#musicals#video#christian borle#vox#hazbin hotel vox#radiostatic#staticradio#onesided radiostatic#but also radiostatic qpr#onewaybroadcast#<i think this is the new tag for one-sided radiostatic#hazbin hotel#my hc#i say stuff
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morales twins vigilantes: getting found out pt 2
okayyyy this part's a slight bit longer but hopefully, uh, worth it lol
kinda made myself tear up a lil at the end ahahaha
also pls don't ask when this takes place, like either in between istv and atsv or atsv and btsv.... idk bro LMFAO this is technically a whole other au in and of itself soooo yuh
disclaimer: i'm a whole ass anarchist, however miles and milo are two teenage boys who've grown up with a cop dad and they play a lil lip service to the police force during their big speech so... yeah i don't support the existence of the police force, but it is what it is. characters don't reflect author's beliefs and all that
>1st part here<
Jeff happened to be lucky enough to be pardoned for the rest of the night, and he also opted to use some PTO on this very very important occasion, so he sped off in the squad car with his sons in the back immediately after visiting the police department and signing off on some papers. He did not utter a word until they all got back home safely.
In the car, it was eerily silent as Jeff fumed in the front. Miles practiced what he was going to say over and over in his head, picking at his suit and avoiding his twin brotherâs eyes. Milo held what remained of his mask in his hands, gauntlets off and tucked between his feet on the floor of the car. They both hung their heads low, counting down the minutes until they got back home and had to face their inevitable death sentence.
They were in so much trouble. Yikes. This was exactly what Miles dreaded for so damn long now, and it almost felt like a dream the way it happened so quickly.
Back home, both boys were sat down in the dining room area behind the couch, waiting for their mother to come back from her night shift. Milo was given an ice pack for his head and some painkillers, and then they were both sternly ordered to take off their respective suits.
Miles turned inquisitive eyes towards his dad.
âIf your mom comes in and sees you two wearing those outfits right after work, that woman will have a heart attack and faint. Take âem off,â was Jeffâs sharp explanation.
They were not gonna argue with that. To the bedroom they both went.
âAnd then you both come right back out the second you change, got it?â
âYeah dad, got it,â was Milesâ unenthused mumble before closing the door.
Miles turned back around with his mask in his hands, and immediately threw it at Milo.
âWhat were you thinking?!?!â he hissed, arms flying up into the air, making grabbing motions at his twin brotherâs neck. âYou absolute idiot, my god, we are so. Freaking. Dead!!â
Milo ducked back, scowling. âMe?!â he hissed back, keeping his voice at a harsh whisper as well. âWhat did you want me to do, pendejo, just let our dad fry, just like that? I didnât see you moving to stop the guy!â
They were both snapping at each other, hands flying everywhere as they argued in harsh tones and whispers. They only stopped when they heard a loud knock on the door.
âDonât take all night, either,â came their fatherâs booming voice from behind the wood.
Miles hung his head. Milo rolled his eyes and moved towards the closet, ripping his jacket off and kicking off his shoes. âYes dad,â they both intoned at the same time.
A few glares were exchanged as clothes were tossed onto the floor, and Miles sighed loudly as he pulled on a pair of pajama pants, throwing himself onto his bed to get them up his legs all at once. He glanced at his bedside alarm clock, knowing his mom would be home any minute now. He felt his heart beat in his chest much louder and faster than usual.
Milo pulled on a hoodie over his head, gingerly easing the fabric over his bruised chest.
âDid the blast hit your chest too, man?��� Miles asked quietly, eyes playing over the mess of a bruise over slightly-scarred skin, wincing a bit.
Milo exhaled sharply. âShuddup.â
Miles frowned. âYou have to let mom know about that soon. Donât âshuddupâ me.â
âWhatever. Letâs just get this over with.â
Miles knew his brother was sulking, but that really looked⌠bad. If he was responsible for not only dragging his brother into vigilantism, but also putting him in the hospital as well, he had no idea how he was getting out of this one alive. He was probably never going to see the light of day until college. Maybe not even then.
Once ready, both boys stood side-by-side in front of the door, hesitating. They both glanced at each other, then back at the door.
This was it, they both thought. The moment of truth. This was the night where it was all gonna go down, and their painstakingly-kept secret would finally be revealed to their parents. D-day. My god. He didnât even know if the speech he prepared in the car on the way home was even gonna suffice against their motherâs explosive anger. She was gonna have a cow the second Jeff told her. Damnit.
Guess I can kiss the whole Spider-man thing goodbye, Miles thought, the very idea leaving a very heavy weight in his chest that he just couldnât ignore. He leaned forward to turn the knob and swing open the door. With one last glance back at his brother, he stepped out. Then his brother followed him slowly, ice pack pressed to the side of his head again.
It was like a funeral procession the way they marched solemnly back to their chairs placed side-by-side by the table. Jeff leaned on the doorway to the hallway with his arms crossed sternly over his chest, still in his police uniform, hat already hung up.
As if on cue, Rioâs keys jangled against the door, and she stepped inside once the lock clicked open. Her slightly tired expression changed in an instant once she hung up her bag and walked into the apartment.
âHello boys, Iâm home!â She announced, a bit surprised. Not only were her husband and two sons all home at the same time, but they were all hanging around to watch her come home after work at such a late hour. Granted, it was summertime and the weekend, but still. Weird.
Jeff had texted her that something important came up and that she needed to be home ASAP, but didnât elaborate further. She didnât know what to expect when she got back. She crossed her fingers and hoped that it wasnât that bad, if her husband texted her instead of calling. If it was an emergency, surely he wouldâve called.
Right?
Her eyes widened once she saw the ice pack Milo held against his head, and quickly made her way over to him.
âQuĂŠ pasĂł?â She kneeled next to her boy, checking him over quickly.
Milo winced and tried to dodge his motherâs hands, holding a protective arm over his chest that no one missed. âMa, stop. Iâm fine, seriously. Itâs⌠itâs fine.â
âIs it? What is going on, why is everyone so⌠so sad right now, and what are you two doing sitting here like this? JeffâŚ?â She turned to face her husband but he was already making his way back to the boysâ bedroom, scooping up their respective vigilante costumes and heading back out with the incriminating evidence in both hands.
Once he got back to the table, he tossed them onto the surface and crossed his arms again.
For a second, no one moved. The whole world held its breath for one precious moment.
Then, with deadly calm in her tone, Rio slowly stood up and placed her hands on her hips. â...What are those things?â
Both boys braced for impact.
âWell?â
Miles swallowed hard, hands gripped together tightly. âUhm. Theyâre. Theyâre⌠our outfits. Yâknow⌠for fighting crime.â
Rio gaped at her sons.
âHeâs Spider-man, mom. Miles is Spider-man,â Milo clarified solemnly. His chin was at his chest now, avoiding eye contact with his mother.
â...And youâre the Prowler.â Rio finished.
She took a step back and exhaled, running her hands through her hair and rubbing her face. âOh⌠oh my god. Dios miĂł, me voy a morir. I knew it, but still... me voy a morir!â š
Finally, Jeff spoke up behind her. âTheyâre not Halloween costumes, either. Guess where I found âem tonight?â
With tears in her eyes, Rio looked back at her husband, a pleading look on her face. âDonât tell me,â she begged. But Jeff continued anyways.
âI took tonightâs shift on as a bit of extra, and when I was called to take care of an electric freak close to downtown, I found these two at the scene already.â
Finally, Rio exploded. âWhat?!?â
The twins flinched.
Jeff exhaled and pressed on, licking his lips. âYeah, and not only that, but Milo here took on a direct blast of electricity to the face. He jumped in front of me and put himself in harmâs way!â
Scandalized, Milo leaped up from his seat, wincing only a little bit. âWait a minute, I did it to protect you! Thatâs my job!â
The anger fizzled out immediately once both parents swung their withering glares around back to him, rage hot enough to almost burn two holes into his skull. Miles pulled Miloâs hoodie sleeve and quietly hissed, âstop making it worse!â
Milo clammed up and quickly sat back down, pouting.
âYour job?â Rio shot back incredulously, laughing angrily.
âThat is not your job, Milo! That is mine! My job! I wear this badge every single day so that I can protect the people of Brooklyn. You are a kid with homework and chores to do, not fighting dangerous bad guys on the streets like some kindaââ Jeff worked himself up but then stopped, as if he suddenly ran out of steam. He placed his hands over his head, clearly stressed, and exhaled loudly.
âHow long?â Rioâs tone was sharp.
They were definitely not getting out of this alive. Damn. Rest in power, Morales twins.
Miles shuffled his feet, hesitating. âUhmââ
âSpeak up, Miles. How long have you two been running around behind our backs and lying to us like this? Huh?â
Miles sighed. âI, uhm. Weâve been doing this⌠for a while now.â
âA while?â
ââŚA -a year.â
âA YEAR?!â
âI mean Iâunno about Miles, but Iâve only been doinâ this for like a couple months, soâŚâ Milo mumbled half-heartedly beside his brother. That comment earned him another set of glares, including one from Miles.
âA year. A year! A year, thatâs how long youâve been lying to us?â Jeff was pacing now, clearly stressed out. He was mumbling things under his breath that both boys would rather not know anything about.
Miles jumped up from his seat, seizing the opportunity when he could. âWait-wait-wait-wait-wait, guys. Mom, dad. Listen to me, please,â he begged, hands splayed out in front of him.
He took a breath. He opened his mouth.
âUntil college.â Rio interrupted, holding a finger up. âBoth of you. Grounded! Until college! You will both be adults before you ever go out without my permission ever again!â
Miles deflated. âO-kay but mom, please! Hear me out first!â
Rio held a hand up. âI donât wanna hear it! I cannot believe that both of my sons would lie to me like this! For an entire year, no less! Dios, dame paciencia, coĂąo!â ² She shook her head as she held her face in her hands. âDo you two know what youâre doing to me? Look at me, Iâm getting grey hairs as we speak!â
Jeff immediately took her side. âDo you realize what youâre doing to your mother? Youâre killing her! And you--â he rounded on Milo all of a sudden, jolting the poor boy into sitting up straight. âYou are killing me! Youâre going around wearing those godforsaken gloves around, punching bad guys just cuz you wanna feel like a big man, huh? Do you know what that does to me?!â
Milo visibly prickled up, hunching in on himself. âIâm not doing it for me,â he bit out angrily.
âThen for who, huh?â
âI wanted to save the little guys on the street... when the cops couldnât. I wanted to help Miles.â Milo sounded tired, and for a split second he looked much older beyond his years. Both of his parents softened for only a fraction of a second before Jeff rubbed his eyes and turned back to Miles.
"And who made you Spider-man all of a sudden? What happened a year ago? Tell me the truth. I don't want any detail left out!"
Ah, interrogation mode already, Miles thought humorlessly.
He sighed and dutifully got started on the whole backstory, careful to leave out the fact that he was with Aaron the moment he got shot, skipping to the part where he "found" his uncle's nearly lifeless body in that alleyway that fateful day. It was a harmless enough lie⌠Miles presumed. Right?
"Did you⌠then... h-how did you see who shot Aaron, Miles? Were you there?" Jeff asked quietly, also looking as tired as Milo did. Miles paused, not expecting the question.
Rio shot him a look. "Jeff, mi amor, please. Now is really not the time." She placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Right now, we have to talk about this... this... situation we have going on here. What's next?"
Miles shrugged, palms facing forward as if to say and the rest is history. "I'm... pretty sure you guys know the rest. Dad... you were uh, there. At the collider. I stopped Kingpin and then I just. Well, yeah. Y'all have already watched all of the news stories and the videos. So," he finished lamely.
Then, a surge of confidence as he looked at the concerned expressions dawning on his parents' faces. It's now or never.
"...B-but I love being Spider-man! Dad, you've seen me out there, the way I fight, the fact that you guys have less to deal with cuz I'm out there kicking ass!"
Oops. Wrong words.
Miles' confidence deflated as soon as those concerned and sympathetic looks turned into ones of anger.
"Kicking ass?! More like getting your ass kicked, little boy! How many NewTube videos are out there of you getting crushed by cars," Jeff started to count off of his fingers, "hit by buses, tossed in the air, punched and flung halfway across the block--"
"Jeff, please!" Rio cried, wobbling a bit. She pulled out the chair closest to her from the table and slumped down into it, rubbing at her temples.
"S-sorry, hon..." Jeff placed an apologetic hand on his wife's shoulder.
Rio sighed deeply.
"I get it. I know. But dad..." Miles steeled himself this time. "When you put on that badge every single day and you go out into those streets to protect the city, you think you're never gonna get shot at? Jumped? It is literally your responsibility to put yourself in the way of danger so no one else has to." He turns to the table and grabs his mask.
"For me," Miles continues, "this is my badge. Okay? I put this on every single day and swing out into the streets so people can shoot at me, or ask me for directions, or wait for me to get weird guys in stupid costumes away from the train tracks. I do this every single day, because if I don't, who will? Peter is dead--" ...wow, that feels weird to say.
"Miles..." Rio's big brown eyes gaze sadly at her boy, standing tall with this awful mask in his hand. A mask that she desperately wished wasn't his.
"Mom. Peter is dead. He is. Okay? If I don't step up and take his place, knowing what I can do? Then I might as well not even be alive at all." He tosses his mask dramatically back onto the table to punctuate his point. "I can shoot webs from my wrists and I have strength like y'all wouldn't believe. I can stick to walls and do everything that Peter Parker was able to do before he passed away. If I just sit here doing nothing with these abilities while everyone struggles to live their lives every single day, letting bad guys with superpowers do whatever they want, then what's the point of anything? The exact same reason why I put on this suit to go fight crime is the exact same reason why you do, dad." Miles turns to his father now. "You have your suit, I have mine."
Milo jumps in, enthused. "And the reason why I put on my mask is because of him. And the civilians, too... of course. But it's not because I 'wanna feel like a big man', dad. It's because it drives me crazy seeing my own brother taking on all of this responsibility on his shoulders all by himself. Miles is gonna do crazy things now that he got bit by a super-spider, right? We literally cannot stop him, even if we tried. Trust me. Might as well go along with him and support him so he doesn't get himself killed out there. That's why I do this. Every single day."
Jeff opens his mouth to say something, but is then cut off by Rio's own small, sad voice. "... Why does it have to be you two?" She asks quietly.
She looks so small sitting there on their wooden dining room chair, and a million times more tired than when she came in through the door. She wasn't even out of her own nurse's uniform yet, either. Miles felt a pang of sympathy for her.
Miles... did not know the answer to her question either. He really didn't. Why was it him-- out of all of the people in Brooklyn-- that got bit by that spider? Clearly, the universe had a grand, elaborate joke planned for him. That was really probably the only explanation for it all. But, no. No, there had to be something else in the cards for Miles. After all, he was bitten by the spider while out with his uncle who was secretly the Prowler, and he was present for not only Peter Parker's death, but that same uncle as well.
He squared his shoulders. And then told the truth.
"I... don't know," he admitted. "But... I do know this. Growing up, I always knew Spider-man was there to answer the call no matter what. He didn't pick this life of battling bad guys that wanna tear the city up all the time, a spider bit him, too. But he made me promise something before he died, and I have to live up to that promise. What else am I gonna do when I'm able to pick up cars with my bare hands?"
Granted, it was only a promise to stop the collider from opening a black hole inside of the city they lived in, but. Details. Anyways...
Rio hid her face in her hands again.
Miles softened his tone, sitting down. "This is something I worked really, really hard for and it's important to me. Milo... is kinda right. You can ground me. Until college. Or whenever. But as long as I've got these powers," he held his hands open, propping his elbows on his knees and meeting his mom's eyes, "and there's people out there that need saving? I gotta do what I gotta do, mami."
Milo leaned forward, too. "Yeah. Same here. He's not alone. The same reason we do this stuff is cuz... ever since we were little, we also watched you guys answer the call, no matter what. I never met Spider-man, before... y'know, but it doesn't matter. We do this for New York City."
Neither of their parents spoke for a bit, digesting all of this information in solemn silence. The anger from earlier all but melted away as they ruminated over all of this. All this time, their little boy was running around in a spandex costume, swinging around, punching bad guys and lifting fallen buildings off of people. There was... a hint of pride underneath all of the fear and anger and betrayal and anxiety, even Rio couldn't lie.
But god, how would things ever be the same again after knowing that the very hero who swung from building to building and knocked villains down before webbing them up was the very same boy with the brightest brown eyes they've ever seen; the boy who brought home A's on his test like he won a medal, the same boy who sang horribly off-key while doodling all over his sketchbook, who refused to tie his shoelaces and drove Jeff up the wall when he found graffiti and stickers all around the city in Miles' name? It was impossible... Rio's heart broke into two pieces.
And Milo... a tougher counterpart to her little ray of sunshine, but just as sweet. The same boy who would feed stray cats on the block, beam like a ray of light after winning a boxing match against a tough opponent, who would hide behind Rio at parties and join her happily to watch the latest episode of the new telenovela they both got hooked on... that same boy was wearing those gloves, swinging around the city looking like a bad guy himself. Rio's shattered heart gained another huge crack before finally breaking into three pieces.
Finally, she sighed again.
"You have superpowers?" She asked, hesitantly.
"... I... yeah, I do." Miles answered, fearing that this was a trick question.
Rio nodded sadly. "Of course. Of course..."
Jeff spoke up, now kneeling beside his wife, caressing her hand clasped in between both of his. "Just because you have superpowers, doesn't mean you're invincible. Miles, we do this because we care about you. Maybe we won't be able to stop either of you from putting yourself in harm's way... I mean, hell, nobody can stop me. But... god, isn't there any other way?"
Miles raised a brow. "Any other way to...?"
Jeff blew out a breath. "I-I dunno, can't you use your super strength to... well, maybe help the transportation department move some tracks around, build some new stations... that'd help the city. Swing around and deliver medicine to people for free? God, I don't know. I just don't want either of you to jump in front of bullets for other people... man..." he shook his head.
Miles and Milo exchanged glances. "I... I know it's tough to accept this," Miles started, unsure of what to say. "Maybe I can scale back the dangerous stuff some but... I... can't just stand around directing traffic when someone's getting mugged. Or a bank is getting robbed. Dad, I just can't. Maybe you guys will hate it every time I put the suit on and swing outside but... I can't give this up now. I'm sorry." He dipped his head apologetically.
Another long stretch of silence.
A clock ticks on the wall in the kitchen, and the ice maker in the fridge starts humming again. It's all so painfully domestic, painfully ordinary, it's almost an insult to the people living in this apartment facing these serious revelations all at the same time. It sure is a sharp contrast to the solemn mood settling all over everyone right now.
Rio looks deeply into Miles' eyes, then Milo's. After a while, she turns to face Jeff. "Jeff. You will not like what I'm about to say."
Jeff returns her look with one of confusion. "Honey..."
Rio shrugs, a small gesture but one that makes Miles and Milo's hearts skip a beat. "Mi vida, these are our boys. They have... this big responsibility now, to the people here in this city. Just like you. Just like me," she swallows and continues. "You and me? We've seen what Miles is capable of. Well, the both of them. And as much as it hurts, it would probably hurt even more if we kept them both back from being the heroes they need to be. What we need to do now is... we need to support them. We love them. They need us. We need them! QuĂŠ mĂĄs puedo decir?" Âł
Jeff looked deeply into his wife's eyes and then inhaled deeply. Not quite a sigh. That was maybe a good sign?
He stands up.
"...Boys."
The twins took their cue. They both stood up, too. Milo quickly discards his ice pack on his chair. Rio joins them, leaning on Jeff for support.
"When police officers get sworn in, they usually just have to do paperwork nowadays. Not too much of the whole bells and whistles due to high turnover rates, but tonight... if either of you want to continue to fight crime in this city, you both have to put your right hand up. Right now."
Miles could cry. Milo bit his lip to try and hide his grin, and they both dutifully raised their right hands at the same time. Jeff does the same, and reaches his left hand out to take Miles'. Rio takes Milo's.
"Pretend we are the Bible. Not paperwork. The Bible."
Both boys nod with all the seriousness they could manage, looking their father in the eyes.
"Do you solemnly swear on your mother and father's life that you will uphold the law and do right by the citizens of Brooklyn, New York, so help you God?"
"I mean... the law law? Cuz sometimes we--" Milo started, immediately earning an elbow to the side. He shut up.
"Yes, the law. I will not be having the DA of New York City up in my home lookin' for you two in case anyone gets badly hurt. I don't want him in my office, either." Jeff gives them both a look.
Miles pipes up. "Yes, we swear, so help us God."
"Milo?"
Milo nods emphatically. "Yes, I swear, so help me God."
Jeff nods once.
"Mijos. You will both be allowed to go and fight crime outside, con mi bendiciones. But. But... you will both also do it under two conditions. If either of you break my rules, you will have wished that spider never bit you," Rio glared at Miles. Then to Milo, "and you will have wished you never stole your uncle's gloves from his apartment. Got it?"
Both boys nodded, still holding onto their parents' hands.
"So, my two rules are this. Only two. Easy to remember, okay? Number one. Milo, you will take care of your brother as best as you can. Miles, you will take care of Milo as best as you can. Both of you will always be seen together when going out and doing hero things, do you understand?"
"Yes, mamĂ" the boys say simultaneously.
"Never, ever go out alone, ever. Neither of you will be alone for even a second, especially during the nighttime. Promise me this."
Miles puts his right hand down to take his mother's other hand in his. "Yes, mom. I promise. We both promise."
Rio bows her head. "...And as for my second rule."
"Do we have to have a curfew?" Milo asks quietly. Everyone shoots him a look again.
"No, no curfew." Before the boys could get excited, she quickly adds, "except for on school nights." They both calm back down.
"Your education is always, always more important. Don't forget this," she lets go of their hands to hold up a finger. "But as for my second rule? No more secrets between us. All of us. Okay? You tell me exactly when it is you leave to go and do what you need to do, and exactly when you come back. Promise me this, too."
This time, it was Miles' turn to start saying something dumb. "I meaann, like every single time? Cuz sometimes it's not really a one-and-done kinda thing, like a shift or--"
Everyone glares at Miles. Miles promptly shuts up.
"...SĂ, mamĂ. Te prometemos todo eso." â´ Milo answers seriously.
Rio sucks in a breath. "Okay. Okay..."
She looks as if she's about to burst into tears, so everyone draws in tightly for a group hug. Rio sniffles against Milo's shoulder and Jeff leans his chin on Mile's head. Miles laughs wetly.
"Geez, y'all are crying? Man, for what? Ain't nobody dying or anything..." Milo interjects suddenly, causing the whole mood to dissipate all at once. Everyone laughs incredulously.
"Boy, if you don't know how to read a room..." Jeff starts, a warning tone laced into his playful grin.
"Man, I was just trying to lighten the mood! Damn, I mean shouldn't we be celebrating? Miles literally has super strength, you guys. Like c'mon, right? That is literally the coolest thing in the whole world!"
Rio groans, tossing her head back. "Mira estĂŠ, 'coolest thing in the whole world'... dĂŠjame agarrarte, maldito cabron..." âľ she mutters sarcastically, moving to grab at Milo's neck in the exact same way Miles did not even an hour earlier. He playfully dodged out of the way, putting his arms up to block, out of habit.
"Cabron?! Mom, you're so mean!" Milo complained.
"C'mere!"
Jeff leans in and interrupts their banter. "Milo. Son. You have to sit with me on the couch now, cuz we have to have a little chat about how you got your hands on those gloves, actually..." He grabs at one of Milo's arms, his smile just a tad bit too wide. Milo gulps.
Jeff continues, steering them both away from Miles and Rio. "And we also have to talk a bit about the history behind those things, too..."
Rio turns to Miles and cups his cheeks in her hands, looking into his eyes. "Do you actually, actually swear to me that you will try your hardest to stay safe?"
"Yes, mom, I do! We said it like a hundred times."
"Your father was right. Just because you have super strength now--"
"And super-healing."
Rio stares at him for a beat.
Miles squirms nervously. "...What? I do!"
"Super-healing, sure. Uh huh. If I catch you with bullet holes inside of you, I am not taking you to the ER then, Mr. Invincible."
"Ouch. Harsh."
"I warned you! I'm smiling like I'm joking but I'm really not!"
"Okay, okay, geez. C'mon, ma. It's really not that big of a deal. I don't get shot at as much as you'd think! Seriously! I'm fast. And... and I've been doing this for a while now. You have to trust me, okay?"
Rio sobered up. "I know. I know. I just... mi amor, I am your mother. I worry about you. You know... I've been taking care of my two little boys for so many years now. I just... I care about the both of you even when you two drive me completamente loca! I trust that you can both handle yourselves, I really do. It's just hard. It is. I-it'll... take some time to get used to."
Miles nodded. "Growing up is tough. I get it."
Rio smacked him on the shoulder.
"Ow! What, it's true! We're all growing up right now, I'm not a little kid anymore and... and you're not the mom of two little kids now. It's just... it's a transitional period! Life's tough!" Miles shrugs, smiling warmly.
Rio smirked, crossing her arms. "Uh huh. It sure is."
Then, she opened her arms for another hug from Miles, which he happily returned.
"I mean it, Miles. Whatever happens, I want you to keep yourselves safe. And ask for help. PapĂ, your father is a police officer. And whatever you need, whatever you need... I'm here, too."
Miles beamed at his mother with tears in his eyes.
"I know, mom. Thank you."
â translations:
š "my god, i'm going to die."
² "god, grant me patience, fuck!"
Âł "what more can i say?"
â´ "yes, mom. we promise you all of that."
âľ "Lookit this guy, 'coolest thing in the whole world'... lemme get my hands on you, fucking bastard..."
#mine#miles morales#miles g morales#spiderverse#i'm getting soft..... deadass tearing up at the end while writing and editing GOD how embarassing#ugh anyways#hope all that wasn't like ooc or anything#i know miles will eventually have to reveal his identity in btsv so i'm not even going to attempt to imagine that#but writing TWO hero identities getting revealed was actually more fun than i imagined#also did yall like the movie lines i slipped in there? ahaha#yes i HAD to make miles' speech mirror gwen's cuz... well yeah#they're both spiderpeople and so they obvi mirror each other in a lot of ways#esp cuz they both have/had cop dads#so anyways hope yall enjoyed this one :)#will i write more after this? who knows#i MAY have more hc posts up my sleeve for the future but We Shall See#oh yeah also the aesthetic pics used as dividers in both posts are not mine ofc#i mostly found them trawling thru pinterest and tumblr đ¤#thx 4 reading âĄ
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//no but the last thing adam did was smile at lute and i'm never ever ever gonna financially recover ik i ranted about this when i first finished the finale but i CANNOT be normal about it!!!!!! like the whole episode adam was nothing short of cruel and sadistic and really hammered down how much he truly believes that he's better than everyone here but when he was dying. when LUTE was there, begging him not to die, all of that behavior vanished.
//adam and lute aren't soft. in different ways, for different reasons, but neither of them allow that vulnerability to show. it was brief, yes, but every wall either of them had put up came crumbling down in that moment, adam on the verge of death and lute kneeling above his body. and adam just smiled at her. a weak, genuine smile. like even after all his ranting and raving about how people should WORSHIP HIM, he was just thankful to have someone at his side. and of course it would be lute. of course it would.
#//he LOVES her do you HEAR ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!! shes his number one his right hand his best friend his crazy bitch#//yes hes a total douche no i dont know in what WAY he loves her. but he does#//he really does#//and i will die on this hill#//i think the fact that this is adam ( AND lutes ) one and only soft moment is why its sticking with me so much.#//fucked up of the writers to separate them#ooc.#hh spoilers
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;-- guys if you own ocs, and they haven't interacted even one tiny bit with a muse of mine, please have the mindset that their first interaction will be like meeting a new stranger. even if your oc has backstory with a canon muse, don't go in assuming my muse has any history with them. ive dealt with a lot of anxious interactions bc of this, so i would like to have first time oc interactions to be first impressions/first meets. thank you !!
#;ooc#:^)#i love rping with ocs#some of my most fav experiences have been with ocs#but please be attentive with my boundaries and don't try to push a narrative without talking to me first#this also lets me know my rules haven't been read and can potentially lead to a soft block#i like to give a warning first but ye#just wanted to bring it up
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i think two characters i want to write:
jjk oc: older âhackerâ jujutsushi that clashed with the more conservative faction for their distrust of technology and ânewerâ jujutsu techniques, independent and kind of doing her own thing as an informant/cursed âtechâ broker
star trek/sci: based off of a vulcan temporal recruit character, basically early federation era science officer that gets thrown into patrolling the timeline
#â
ăťďš faustian bargain bin ooc ďš#will i write them yes but when who knows#maybe this is a soft call for those interesting in plotting lolol#i cannot guarantee anything đ
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" like - THANKS. " she said easily enough crossing through the path he opened for her. ducking under his arm to make her way into the house. HER EYES PASSING BY HIS INFANT'S, " hey little dude. " she offered to the kiddo. not quite sure if she'd get a response, her mind more focused elsewhere anyways.
@jokethur . /. continued.
" your house is . . . wowzers. " it was half hearted, but she wasn't the best at complimenting someone else's home. her aunt's was a upscale Gotham abode. made for two. kept together by hired maids, && unfamiliar faces. coming through the home as frequently to conduct business with her uncle. her aunt was scarcely made to be there. but Lucy never really needed adult supervision. especially tonight.
hair, still bubblegum pink, with jaded pieces poking out here and there. she was good at adjusting, and easily found the kitchen after wrestling past their pets, " pizza - totally needed it. " she grabbed herself a slice. preferring the cold cheesy bread with pepperoni to microwaving it.
her eyes ducked down as her imaginary boyfriend entered the room. his glasses left on his nose even as he pushed them back over his eyes. Freddy had always been pretty introverted, but he was oogling her quietly the moment she first cut her hair, && applied that hair dye. saying that she looked like a celebrity, or an anime girl. she never understood his references, but he had trailed with her the whole way to Arthur's , " you think he has netflix? " Freddy asked.
" you think my aunt's --- gonna be pissed? " Lucy said instead. eyes looking around the room. Mapping out all the crooks and crannies, " she didn't see me leave. " she said that out louder for Arthur to hear.
" and . . . it's a look? " mentioning her hair. hands coming up to touch the strands. wrapping a small portion around her finger.
". yeah - you need to fix it. " freddy playfully jabbed at her. chuckling into his ninetendo switch.
#đŞ//: muse: lucy quinnzel: ( daughter of clowns. )#( jokethur )#đŞ//: ooc. | lady bug speaks.#so hey hi i MISSED YOU. :DD#so#freddy is pretty much - like all her other bfs - her age#but hes very introverted and the geeky type#loves video games & comics#while Lucy is still the party girl#its a wonder they are together but lucy can act rather soft when shes with him#she also REALLY needs her hair fixed so yes pls fix it for her ( haha! )#she's never dyed her hair before so who knows how her aunt will think#they are very â no nonesense upscale rich types â#so her aunt MIGHT have a problem with it#her aunt also doesnt want her to become like ger mother harley since her mother lives a danferous life#:(#also i have zero photo edits saved for Lucy so iconless for awhile my bad! feel free to keep using yours if you want - or#- match me if you prefer
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#;ooc#ooc#;mun art#MOCTE BE UPON YE#/its a sketch but now icant unsee the fact that his tecpatl looks like a fish#IOEUTORITUR#currently im studying c.hica umino's style bc i like how home-y it feels and#those soft pencil-like strokes#one day i'll go back to studying p.ako's and w.ada's -clenches hands on fists- oh and n.akahara's!#the dreamy-like feel; its like if drawing was cotton candy; thats how i would describe it :nods:#and i find it funny how differently it feels to not draw sharp edges/lines#im used to drawing those kind of lines so its def an interesting excercise!#so i wanna see of incorporating a softer more dreamy look to my drawings too for when the vibes hit u know?#c.hica's drawings have a lot of softer edges and the sharp lines usually tend to fall around clothes and more simplified shapes of clothes#but eyes and face are very soft#first attempt was with a less texture-y brush; then i tried with a more pencil like one; which i feel did help a lot with the lines looking#less structured per say#as reference i looked up her drawings on the o.beron book + a manga she did; personally i havent read it but it also looks very soft#it also just hit me that in overall; i've drawn more m.octezumas than gils; and g.il is in the team of my old muses#anywyas;; ITS THE WEEKENDDD YIPPEEEEEE#;dl#also my god o.beron looks like he got a mugshot on the first one oIUTEOIUTE
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Kae đ¤ Aven
Being so used to sex as transactional/smth to blow off steam whenever, that actually gentle, loving sex would make them fucken Bluescreen
#//Kae esp is just âKnock me around; mark me up; but stars forbid you be gentle with me; so help me; I will Implodeâ#â â ( .ooc. );#//Sb actually wanting to be kind and soft with them is just#//Its unheard of to them. does this person know they donât deserve it??? (<-their thoughts)#//What is the person wanting out of them???#//SURELY there are better ways to make them fall apart-#//They both Crave it; yes#//But they would be absolutely FLOORED to actually get it
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what do i have to do to get some decent fics in here
#why are genshin characters so wildly ooc in fics#like thats a whole oc right there cosplaying as an official character#is it because they barely have characterization#because we rarely see different aspects of their personality#and instead we just get the same archetype reinforced over and over#like oooh xiao is soo cool and sooo edgy#how about you show us what would take for this man to cry or laugh or love#how about we take a look at what could make zhongli furious or yelan to fumble with her words#is there any situation where yae miko would raise her voice in fear or hu tao would stay focused or serious#yes we know what archetype they represent#but is there anything more than that#or do i have to read another fic where childe is a soft uwu bottom who hates conflict
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j.on & s.atin fucked. btw
#/ nsft#bc yall mean 2 tell me that he constantly notices how he smells good & how pretty he is & ppl r out here thinking he's his pet & his whore?#<-#/ w slur#jic. yes i can use that word. no im not obligated to disclose to anybody as to why. anyway lmao#& defends him tooth & nail? & has a full panic attack when he thinks sb might be implying hes sleeping w/ him but not bc he's worried about#the implication of his queerness of himself but how it affects satin? & how he literally notices how pretty satin is in the battlefield?#& knows how soft his hands are??????? C'MON LMAO#also hes literally the first person he notices when hes promoted to lord commander he's his first experience w/ another guy u love 2 see it#& he probably still mourns ygritte so there's the grief & loneliness factor too#+ the jesus/mary magdeleine parallels#& we gotta get more achillean / mlm ships in asoiaf anyway#ooc.
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⪠BROOKLYN BABY. (đ) â previous part
๨ৠsimon 'ghost' riley | reader
synopsis: the 141 believes the scot now.
tags: fluff, romance, soft!simon, you're basically their mom atp lol, bickering, there's a bet between gaz n soap, gaz secretly wants you shh, ooc characters, not proofread, price being the gentleman he is, he's seriously just watching everything unfold
    It's not always that Ghost is willing to let the 141 stay at his house for their traditions â which is just drinking beer and watching sports, really. In fact, he's always said something about his place being empty, so they always settled on someone else's. They stop asking after a year, and in turn, he stops having reasons.
It's not until Soap pops the question again when everyone else's houses are unavailable for a variety of reasons, his being that he left his faucet on and now his shitty apartment is flooded. You can only imagine the suspicion and shock when Ghost agrees (or, rather, simply grunts).
The drive is long, nothing short of 5 hours, and Soap spends the better half of it bickering with either Gaz or Ghost. He falls asleep by the next half, and when he awakes, he gawks at the lovely looking house before their car. There's two stories to it, a balcony, a front porch, and there's no doubt that there's a backyard.
Contrary to popular belief, no, it is not all black or plain at all. It's all equally surprising to them. The Brit isn't the type to care about the appearance and state of a house, usually. They do envision him in a mostly empty apartment with only a bed and a bathroom, though.
There's a delicate touch to where a rough man lives; the smell is almost heavenly when they enter the house. It's homely, the scent of newly washed sheets and lingering smell of food; there's a cat perched on the living room table that Ghost scratches the head of lovingly in a way that's so casual and natural. It's like they're at the gates ofâ
"Simon!" Heaven's bells ring in their ears, luring them into the doorway of the living room, and the sound of feet padding against the cold floor. There comes a soft-looking thing running into Ghost's arms, completely engulfing you.
You only notice the three familiar faces of your boyfriend's team members â though you know he considers them family if anything â when you pull away. An angel clad in only a cami top, shorts, and Simon's hand around your waist, you turn to look at the group with a surprised look on your pretty â Soap thinks that God, you're so pretty â face. "Oh, hi," you smile sweetly, obviously awkward at the silence and the staring.
"It's been a while," Ever the gentleman, the gruff voice is the first to speak up with your name uttered, the only who's actually met you â John Price. Soap is too enamored with the way you hold yourself and the fact that, holy fuck, even your name's pretty. Gaz raises a brow at the captain's greeting.
You smile once more â a genuine one now. "Nice to see you again, John."
"'S rude to stare, Johnny." Simon speaks out, a smirk under the mask. "Please excuse him, miss," Gaz adds, this beautiful man, and offers a charming smile.
"You must be Gaz," you hold your hand out, "it's a pleasure to finally meet you."
"Pleasure's all mine," Kyle forgets that a hand could be this soft and gentle, "and please, call me Kyle." He barely stops himself from turning your hand in his to kiss the back of it like one should to a lady so fair; his lieutenant has good taste in women, he'll give him that. And when you're out of the area, Soap is sure to rub it in Gaz's face. I told ye so! LT wis hidin' somethin' from us. A pretty something, that is. You don't miss the way he slips a twenty-dollar bill into the Scottish man's hand.
"Glad tae meet ye," Soap finally says, winking. "Understand why he wis hidin' a bonnie lass like ye from us." There's a mischievous glint in his eye, almost naturally so.
"A'm hurt, LT, but whit can I do? After all, we're just a couple o' brutes, arenae we?"
Simon watches in amusement, "you'll live." Soap is quick to move to your side as you lead the small group of hulking men through your shared home after that.
Simon is visibly more relaxed with you around. He's comfortable, that much is a given, with the way he's taking up most of the thankfully large couch with his manspreading. So is the 141. They're pampered like spoiled children (or pets, really) through the whole day.
Instead of just beer and faucet water, they're offered a variety of drinks in the kitchen that's enough to be considered a private bar. Instead of an empty belly unhealthily stuffed with beer and a mix of mediocre takeout, they're met with warm homecooked meals. They lose track of time quickly; the night falls by the time they've tired themselves out, and they've had not one, but two meals thanks to you.
(They're sure to commend your cooking skills and think of how lucky this tall brute of a man is blessed with a woman so soft and pliant and wonderful andâ while Price is the one to be the most grateful, Soap compliments you the most. "A can practically taste the love." You laugh in turn.)
Gaz is the first to speak after a meal so lovely, they could simply just sleep on the floor comfortably and wake to the same smell of home. "It's a bit late, love, we should probably go."
"Thank you for having us," Price smiles down at you kindly.
"Ye've been lovely, bonnie." He wants to stay some more.
"Wait," you stop them, looking up at Simon for further approval. He's already looking at you with a reassuring brush of his thumb on the side of your hip and a nod. You turn your eyes back at them. "It's already late, you three should stay the night. We have enough room for everyone."
There comes, "we don't wanna intrude," then, "we can take care of ourselves, it's alright."
"Please, I insist." Your smile brightens, "I'll even cook breakfast before you leave."
The mohawk moves with a sigh, "now tha's just no' fair, lass. How are we gonna say no tae that?" You giggle. Only then do they find themselves tucked away in the guest room, and boy, you were right when you said it could fit them all if not more.
On the way to the bathroom in the late hours of the night, Soap catches a glimpse of light through the crack of your bedroom door to see his oh-so strong lieutenant, vulnerable in your arms. There's something natural about the way you cradle the large man and kiss his hair like it's part of your DNA, like you're programmed to do that 'cause Soap thinks you're simply unreal.
He's proud of his lieutenant, this lucky bastard. He turns another blind eye once more, but he's paid in full with another fulfilling meal by the morning.
#๨ৠsimon !#ŕ¨ŕ§ audi's works !#finally did this omg#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#simon ghost x reader#ghost x reader#ghost x you#simon ghost riley x you#cod mw#cod mw2#cod mwii#cod#ghost cod#cod x reader#call of duty#call of duty modern warfare#cod x you#fluff#cod fluff#romance#ghost#john price#kyle gaz garrick#kyle garrick#gaz cod#gaz garrick
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âł â [YOU WAKE HIM UP WITH NONSENSE] ÂĄ! â pt.2
warnings: Pet names idk some might cringe at that, bad writing, Ace affectionately calling you bitch, some maybe turn out ooc - i just suck at a few characters-my apologies
summary: You wake him up in the middle of the night talking complete nonsense
characters: Twst boys x F!Reader
word count: 4.246
a/n: THIS IDEA WAS NOT FROM ME, unfortunately i can't find the creator so if you remember tag them! My writing wasn't as good as theirs tho
Riddle
Riddle's slumber is disturbed by the sound of his name. He doesn't answer right away, opening his eyes slowly and blinking a few times before he realizes his surroundings. "My rose?..." he asks, voice tired and hoarse.
He sits up, looking over at you. He sees you, and his expression softens. "Are you not able to sleep?..." "Remeber when i was walking my whale in the mountains, and i met two talking closets offering me a discount on money?" Clearly you make no sense, after all this was planned. You have to stiffle your laugh and giggles but you manage to stay serious nonetheless. Riddle blinks a few times as he tries to process what you're saying, his sleepy brain refusing to comprehend the words.
As his thoughts clear, his eyebrows frown as he attempts to make any sense of you talking about closets. Or discounts on money.
He blinks a third time to clear his vision. The expression on his face is pure gold, priceless. He looks adorable with his mouth agape. Riddle blinks a few more times. His eyes flicker as he attempts to discern your words, but he is too sleepy to put together the pieces.
"You walked a whale?" he finally manages. "Talking closets? Discount? Mountains??" He lets himself drop backwards onto the bed again and left out a sigh. "Mhm! Talking closets in the mountains" you softly laugh as you kiss his cheek and lay down beside him. Riddles cheeks heat up lightly, and he cannot help but blush.
"You can tell me all about it once its the right time..." and before you could even answer, he's out again....
Trey
The sound of your voice stirs him from sleep, and his eyes flutter open. Trey blinks a few times, the softest smile still gracing his features. He blinks again and again, finally fully comprehending the situation. His eyes widen as his lips part.
"Ah...yes?" he whispers, rubbing his eyes to rid himself of lingering sleepiness.
"I forgot to tell you that yesterday I was out with my mixer and we saw a duck on the runway having metal teeth." You can tell that the story has stumped him for a few seconds. He blinks, seemingly trying to process what you just said.
Though he knows the words make sense separately, all together they're a rather peculiar combination. He tilts his head, his brow furrowing.
"That's...a bit strange, no? Was it a normal duck aside from its odd teeth?" "Yeah!" His mouth quirks up. You can see a glimmer of amusement flit across his features as he chuckles. "A duck with metal teeth it was then, cool i guess." he says as he tries to form a picture of it in his mind. The concept of an otherwise-normal duck sporting metal teeth would definitely be a curious sight.
He lets out a soft snicker, clearly entertained by the absurd image. "Now," he yawns, "c'mere and sleep with me now, kay?" he mumbles tiredly and pulls you closer by your hips, pressing you against his body.
Cater
Cater's eyes open slowly, as if he was only half asleep. When he sees you, his eyes widen a bit and he tries to focus. His expression is soft and a bit hazy, but he seems to recognize you immediately. When he sees you, you notice a wave of tender affection flood his body as you hear him take in a deep breath before he lets out a quiet sigh. "Whatisitbaby..." he slurrs his words together.
"I baked a broom for you and decorated it with car keys for your happy easter celebration on Christmas!" Cater blinks a few times, before he slowly lifts his head and blinks slowly. He seems a bit confused about your statement, how can someone not. He is too drowsy to respond just yet, so he merely smiles goofly at you gently and lets out a small yawn. His eyelids slowly start to close again, but he seems very content to just sit here with you.
Cater seems to be drifting off sitting, so you decide to let him return to sleep. His breathing grows heavier the moment his back hits the bed again, but you can still see his chest rise and fall softly as his body adjusts to a deeper slumber.
His face rests against your chest, but before he can fully fall back asleep again he slurrs a few words for you. "Youcantellmeallaboutitinthemornin'kaykaybaby?"
"Kay Kay, baby" you softly laugh and kiss his forehead.
Ace
Aceâs breathing pauses for a moment as he remains partially asleep. His eyelids flutter and his eyes remain closed, but he responds nonetheless. "Fuck off Juice...lemme sleep..."
"....bro youre in my room no blueberry juice here-" you deadpan. Ace raises his head, mouth open with a bit of droll running out. He blinks slowly, left eye earlier than the right, and looks drowsy at you. "Right....what's the matter babe?" He drops his head face down in the pillow again after he used all his energy to answer you. "So, yesterday when i wanted to visit the moon i accident took the wrong worm and we ended in the bushes where shoes grow." Ace laughs softly into the pillow and shakes his head at the absurdity of it all. âAh, yesâŚI remember. Cool story babe.......now lemme sleep"
Before you can even react Ace wraps his arms cautiously around you and pulls beside him as he lays on his stomach. "You're one crazy bitch...fuck, i love you." He mumbles into the pillow again, before turning to face you and pull you closer into his chest. Ace lovingly kissed your forhead before stroking your hair and slowly falling asleep again.
Deuce
A quiet moan escapes Deuceâs lips, and he begins to stir. He opens his eyes and sits upâ you can see that he is still half-asleep, blinking slowly and lazily at the ceiling. âWha-...ar...are you hurt or somethin'?â he says in a gentle, hoarse whisper.
Your gentle touch on his shoulder has woken him from his rest, and yet he doesn't seem annoyed by it; quite the opposite, in fact.
"No, no I'm not hurt. But i just saw a flying console screaming for pudding outside our shower." "Pudding?" Deuce repeats the word curiously, blinking as he wipes his nose and sniffs tiredly. Your tone seems to suggest that he should find the word familiar, but the foest year seems genuinely clueless as to what you're talking about. He gives you a baffled expression, but you can tell that he's still not quite himself.
If there are any flying consoles out there, they aren't his concern. "Pudding... flying consoles..." he mumbles. "Baby, you want some pudding...?" He ask tiredly, looking over at clock on the wall, luckly the moonlight lets him see the time. "At..." he squint his eyes, "8 am?"...3 am but you don't want to burst his bubble just yet.
"I can wait till 8 am, no biggie" you say, smiling at how concerned but also confused he is. Although hes tired he still tries to be a good boyfriend for you. "M'kay...g'night..."...out like a light.
Leona
"Hmm" Leona groans. His hands trail up and down beside him lookung for your body to pull you closer against his body. But he didn't found you, instead you were sitting up. "Herbivore,...c'mere already."
He's still slightly groggy from sleep. Its common knowledge, waking Leona Kingscholar up is an unofficial crime. And now you even left his arms, the audacity. Good thing hes way to tired at 2am.
"I was looking for my teapot but instead found a dancing glass of ice tea waiting at the traffic light to turn into a tulip." "Ah... what?" Leona murmurs, slowly shifting upward. His gaze is still half-lidded by sleep; his eyes have yet to come back into focus.
He blinks at you a couple of times, before finally rubbing his eyes and frowning. Leona looks somewhat annoyed. "What nonsense are you saying?" He blinks some more, his voice still rough with sleepiness. "I...I love you come back and sleep." And since you didn't immediately react to him he growls back a, "Now."
Ruggie
Ruggie stirs at your voice, ears laying flat and lazy against his head. He opens his eyes slowly and looks at you with half lidded, sleepy eyes. "Mmm...is it morning already?" he asks quietly. "No." You smile gently at him and kiss his cheek. He smiles dopey and falls back against the pillows. "But...when I tried to read the picture about the story of the bear who went jogging in the clouds, i got confused."
Ruggie is just as confused. But smiles slightly as he props himself up in bed. He rubs his eyes, his expression one of amusement layered with tiredness.
"Ya know..., you really need to stop askin' me to help you with your homework,â he mumbles. "Huh?" "...Huh?" "....oh-" "yeah?..." Ruggie didn't know what he said, neither did he knows what he actually understood. And neither did you. You both just blink at each other looking confused, before he drops down into the pillows again and holds his arms out for you. "Come back and cuddle...ya silly little minx"
Jack
His ears twitch at the sound of your voice, and his eyes dart open in a sharp flutter. Blinking away the lingering sleep from his eyes, the world comes into focus.
When he realizes that its only you in front of him, he relaxes. "Are you not feeling well?" He's definitely not wide awake but isn't half asleep either. He quickly sits up too and puts his hand on your cheek, caressing your skin with his thumb as he looks at you worried. That would make you melt under normal circumstances, but you had other plans this night. "I was attacked by a wild blueberry and it wanted to read my eyelashes off my nails."
Jack blinks. His thumb stops moving as he is processing your words slowly. "... You're... you're..." He trails off at the nonsensicality of the sentence. The words don't register, and he looks at you with confusion. His brow furrows.
"What?"
You can't help but giggle. "Alright...time for you to get some sleep, hm?" Jack sounds exhausting, from being sleepy and from you. He stroke your cheek lovingly one last time, before you cave in and lay back into bed. "Good girl...", sudden tiredness came over Jack and he lays back beside you, pulling you against his chest.
Azul
The voice breaks him from his slumber. He flinches in surprise, waking from a deep sleep. His lavender eyes shoot open. They look at you with a certain amount of fright â until they register your face, in the darkness of your bedroom.
"Pearl?" His voice is a whisperâ husky with sleep, but soft all the same. "If a snail flys into a tree, does it turn pink or will it eat chips?" You immediately hit him with your nonsense, no mercy. Azul stares at you in utter confusion. His face is one of uncertainty, and a touch of amusement as he tries to make sense of your question.
He settles on a response, but is not entirely confident in its truth. "I do not know, Pearl." He murmurs. "But what i know is that you should be asleep." You know he's right, but you also just wanted to have some fun. Azul gently pulls you back against his chest. He smiles at you warmly as he wraps your body in his arms.
He presses his lips to the top of your head. His hands come up to your hair, fingers threading through yours and gently stroking you, brushing them down your back to soothe your weary bones. "We can...discuss this tomorrow..." You just nod, snuggling up to him. Teasing him didn't work, but at least you got his affection.
Jade
Jade always sleeps lightly, so the tiny call of his name immediately wakes him. "HmmmâŚ" his voice is barely above a whisper as he wakes. He reaches out for you, his movements gentle, his eyes searching in the darkness for your body. "Mm...Guppy?"
"Do teeth grown on walls when they are covered in amnesia?"
The question catches Jade by surprise, his brow furrowed as he contemplates your words. He opens his mouth to speak, then closes it again, his brow now a full-on frown as he tries to formulate an answer.
"No?" he says slowly, voice sounding like a question rather than an assertion. He furrows his brow even further, brows meeting in the middle of his forehead. "...You know...there are situations where i feel like Floyd rubbed off on you..." he says. "Ey-!" Jade lets out a tired chuckle before pulling you back against his chest again. "My little guppy...so dumb sometimes, hm?"
Floyd
His pale eyes snap open as soon as he recognizes your voice. "Shrimpyyy," he whines quietly, his voice quivering in his surprise from being pulled from his slumber. "Why'd wake meee?" he mumbles and pulls you closer and tighter against his body, at this point youre used to it. "Do ghosts twerk when you play them ladders and earth?"
As odd a question as it was (Floyd is too), he doesn't even flinch. Instead, he takes a moment to process it before nodding, his lips curling into a smile as he answers, "Of course! Everyone knows ghosts like to twerk." Floyd just starts to giggle in delight, wiggling you around happily, "Aww shrimpy i love you! You're so silly!" He gave you one last kiss on your head before his smile drops, "But we gotta sleep now, so you better behave and don't wake me up again." Though he is still a little unsteady from being woken up so suddenly, his strength still remains in his embrace. From the way he holds you, you can feel how much he loves you. He wants you close. He wants to keep you with him. Forever even.
Kalim
His brows furrow as his eyes continue to stay shut. But your voice was enough to rouse him.
"Hmm?" his lips part, but his voice is still hoarse with sleep, and he doesn't open his eyes yet. Before he can open them or even get remotely more awake, you attack him immediately. "How do i know if a bunny catches a goldfish in a storm of wandering suns?" His brows furrow even further as his head shifts toward your direction. That question did nothing to make any kind of sense to him.
"H-Huh?" he asks warily, his eyes slowly opening just as his brows are un-furrowing. "I- Um." He looks around, his thoughts scattered.
"Lemme ask Jamil real quick...Ja-!" "No-!" Befode he can wake up the poor exhausted second year who just got into bed, you shut Kalim with your hand against his mouth. "Shhh-" He keeps mumbling against your hand, before he choses to gently kiss the inside of your hand. "Tschul...pwease led me go" "Huh?" You raise your hand, "I said, Jewel, please let me go-!" Kalims arms wrap around you in an instant. He buries his face into your shoulder, seeking the warmth of your arms. All of the tension in his body seems to ease at once, replaced by the comfort that he feels when he is in your presence.
He nuzzles his head into your shoulder, the touch being all that he needs for him to be at peace. "Ahhh, I'm wide awake now..."
Jamil
His head tilts a little as the sound of your voice reaches his ears. His head turns in your direction. His breathing is shallow and steady, his eyes closed.
"Mm? What now?..." "Do dogs cry rainbows when they breath daisies on a sunday bell?" There's a moment of silence as your question registers in Jamils mind. The wheels are turning, and you can tell he's processing it.
Finally, he answers, "No, my love. Dogs cannot cry rainbows when they breathe daisies on a Sunday bell....now good night." "Oh-" you were taken aback by how fast and serious he answers. Probably used to it from Kalim. It takes him a moment to realize he should explain his answer. "Dogs are not... capable of...crying rainbows and certainly not when they breathe daisies on a Sunday bell. The latter is...quite nonsensical, actually." A hint of a smile tugs at his mouth, but the expression does not fully reach his lips, "As expected from you "
He waits, allowing a moment to pass to see if you have a response. "Good night Jamil...." "Good night."
Vil
(Bro would honestly kill you but---lets forget about that now-)
His eyes flutter open as he removes his sleeping mask.They blink slowly, fighting off the haze of sleep. And then, they fix on you.
"Yes?" He whispers. Vil is scared you might be in pain, or a different problem flared up. But instead you hit him with this nonsense.
"If a goose loves an ogre, do they drink pebbles in the moonlight?" His mind reels from this seemingly nonsensical question. His body is tense as a whip, his heart pounding in his chest. This feels like a trap, but his mind scrambles to find a response.
He opens his mouth, then stops. He tilts his head, then opens his mouth once more, stopping. He blinks, staring at you.
Then, his lips curl to a smile. "Yes they do," he affirms with complete certainty. "They drink pebbles in the moonlight. And you know what else they do?" "No?" God bless your innocence in this moment, "They never wake up one another when they have their beauty sleep and don't ask them stupid questions." "Oh-..."
Rook
The sound of your voice, however small and soft, stirs Rook from his "slumber". Rook is never truly asleep, a good hunter never rests. He cracks open his eyes, and his lips form a smile and part to form a word.
"Yes?" he excitingly says, though the word, meant hushed and quite, was more loud than expected. "Yesterday I saw a sheep kissing a well and singing it a waterfall because it couldnât catch a pizza." Without missing a beat he answers, "What a marvelous story mon ange! Did you come up with it yourself?" You nod proudly, not using one braincell to come up with words in the first place is and accomplishment! "Oh, mon ange, would you tell me more about this loving relationship between this talented sheep and its well-lover?"
Rook responds by wrapping his arms tightly around you. He presses his body close to yours, his fingers kneading at you. His touch is gentle but firm. Time seems to slow down as you two press even closer against one another, and you come up with more nonsense to entertain him. The world fades away to oblivion as thoughts of every day concerns slip away and you two embrace the warm bliss of that moment.
Rook doesn't say anything. He only smiles with pure adoration at you and listens to every single word. He just holds you, his every atom focused on being near you. Like always.
Epel
"Epel, Epel, Epel, Epel, Ep-" said guy blinks a few times in an effort to fully awaken as he hears you call his name multiple times. He squints his eyes as he adjusts to the full moon lighting of his bedroom.
He blinks again, rubbing the weariness out of his eyes. "Yeah?" he mumbles softly, his voice still sluggish with sleep. "I just saw an owl wearing a hoddie and stealing a womans wig while the sky was skittles." Epel blinks a few times, trying to process the words you just conveyed. He opens his eyes wider and shakes his head.
"Sounds like you had one wild dream," he whispers as gently as possible, "But at least it wasn't a nightmare so...ya should probably go back to sleep now." Epel's voice is a murmur as he slowly leans down to kiss the top of your head. His cheek brushes against your hair as he nuzzles into the softness, and he takes a deep breath.
His gaze lingers on your face, studying your features as he pulls back slowly. "I'll watch over you so you won't have any strange dreams..."
Idia
The sound of your voice cracks through his mind, jolting him to attention. Idia jolts up from sleep, startled. The sight of you makes his heart skip a beat.
He blinks his eyes open, staring back at you for a moment as he reorients himself. His breathing is quick and shallow, but he steadies himself. "Is-Is something wrong?!" He sounds genuinely scared and worried for you, you almost feel bad about what you're gonna do. "Horses eat frames so they can fly faster to the basement of the Texas curtains."
"Cool" Idia says softly, and his eyes squint. He tilts his head, clearly not tracking your train of thought. His body is tense, his mind dense, on edge as he attempts to make sense of what you just said. "Babe...explain," Idia says, his voice a near whisper. He narrows his eyes, concentrating on your words.
His lips purse for a moment, and he shakes his head slightly. "Can't make sense...might call Ortho..."
Malleus
His chest freezes with a sharp inhale, and he opens his eyes. His heart pounds in his throat, a nervous flutter. "Yes!? Love? I'm here," he says, his voice hoarse from a few hours of undisturbed slumber.
He blinks a few times, rubbing his eyes as he looks up to you, sitting in bed. He wants to speak, but the words can't leave because you beat him to it.
"2 birds were fighting over a brush because it tastes like fries on a Tuesday afternoon." His eyes narrow as he tries to process what you just said. "Tastes...like... fries? on a... Tuesday?"
Confusion clouds his expression, and he cocks his head slightly to the side. Your lack of response only cements his uncertainty. Was that a question? A question you expect him to answer, or was it a joke?
His frown deepens and he clears his throat, "The old man once told me abouta thing called Hoocus Poocus (my stupid idea of google)" he says slowly, raising from bed and groaning like and old man with back problems before he walks over to his phone on his desk. "Maybe this can help...my love?...Do you recall how I alive this device?"
Lilia
The snore halts, the sudden outburst of sound startling him out of his sleep. He wakes up like a mother, with a loud gasp. His eyes shoot open as he bolts upright, and he stares straight at you with an anxious expression on his face. "Has the time finally come?" "W-What time?" "Where i may or may not have left a cake in the oven and it caught fire." He says it with such ease...like he did leave a cake in the oven to burn down the entire dorm.
"No-!....I just wanted to know if you can cactus me a cucumber." He stares at you blankly. Your request takes a few seconds before registering in his mind. A brief flicker of concern crosses his face, but it is fleeting as he realizes you are being facetious. Oh, how much he loves your stupid ass.
He lets out a small laugh. "I'll cactus you a cucumber tomorrow, dearest."
Silver
He is so used on your voice that even in his slumber, your words reach his core. When you call out to him, his breathing grows shallow and his eyelids begin to flutter a bit. His lips twitch again, and he turns his head slightly.
"Ahh...whatisit..." "I slept on a dentist with a horn and he fixed my hair with his light switch." Silver's eyes snap open at your words. You've caught him off-guard yet again. He stares at you for a long moment before he finally speaks.
"You slept...on a dentist..?" He's still half-asleep, his voice quiet and hoarse. "Princess, did you cheat on me?" A quiet, breathy laugh escapes his lips for a split second. Your words are nonsense, and he knows it.
He swallows down another laugh, biting his tongue in an attempt to stifle it as he sees your horrified face. "Shut up..." you mumble, why does no teasing ever work with him?
Sebek
"I'M AWAKE AND READY-!," Sebek is startled awake, sitting up quickly. His eyes open with an instant, and he glances around, his gaze settling on you. "HUMAN? YOU AWOKE ME BECAUSE SAVANACLAW FINALLY ATTACKED DIASOMNIA TO KIDNAPP LORD MALLEUS, RIGHT?!"
"......no but, a egg just gave birth to a basball and now his golf wife is mad."
Sebek blinks for a moment, his brain trying to comprehend your bizarre statement. His face twists, you can't tell if its anger or regret. Regret for ever letting himself catch feelings for you. You never heard him being so silent, cause even in his sleep hes loud...he snores.
"...Human?" "Yes?" "I will escort you back to ramshackle so you can spend the rest of the night in your dorm."
"Nooo-!" "Yes-ah-ey-let go of me-!" He gasps at the sudden embrace, and he stiffens as a flood of emotions rush through his heart. His arms hang loosely at his sides as he is swept into your warm embrace. There is no resisting it. No matter how much he trys, he will always love you no matter what.
He feels like he's going to melt.
#twst#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland headcanon#twisted wonderland x reader#riddle rosehearts x reader#trey clover x reader#cater diamond x reader#ace trapolla x reader#deuce spade x reader#leona kingscholar x reader#ruggie bucci x reader#jack howl x reader#azul ashengrotto x reader#jade leech x reader#floyd leech x reader#kalim al asim x reader#jamil viper x reader#vil schoenheit x reader#rook hunt x reader#epel felmier x reader#idia shroud x reader#malleus draconia x reader#lilia vanrouge x reader#silver x reader#sebek zigvolt x reader
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call it what it is
Jackson! Joel Miller x Female Reader
summary: A disagreement over patrol duty leads to declarations that have been long overdue.
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. established relationship. HEFTY AGE GAP (reader is in her 20âs and joel is 56). ellie and joel are fine bc i said so and they deserve nothing less. reader handles a rifle, joelâs a little too overprotective and almost seems controlling, but i promise he is not. well, maybe just a smidge. arguing, admission of feelings, joel miller says i love you (yes this is ooc, no i do not care bc i need this old man to tell me he loves me). angst, fluff. quite a bit of side character interaction before we get to joel and reader in the second half. the only physical description of reader is that she is shorter than joel. fair warning, i am quite rusty.
word count: 4.2k
a/n: hi hello. i have not shared a wip in over 2 months. i was going back and forth on whether or not i wanted to share a fic with so much going on but decided i wanted to get back to doing what i enjoy. that and ofc that new footage was a boost of inspo. i am sending so, so much love to anyone who happens to see this author note, whether you read this fic or just happen to see this note in passing whilst scrolling. i know things have been tough, but i am here with you. <3
Joel wakes with a gentle start. Yawning, he rolls over from his side onto his back, blinking the sleep out of his eyes as warm, golden sunlight filters into the bedroom through the sheer, white linen curtains drawn over the window. He stares up at the ceiling, his breathing slow, steady, and even. Heâs still getting used to it, it seems. Waking this calmly, with a tranquil peace he had been so certain he would never in his life feel again. He knew it couldnât be a mere coincidence the nightmares had all but stopped tormenting him in his sleep when the two of you stopped doing that awkward little tap dance around one another and began sharing a bed, a home, a life.
No more bolting upright in sheer panic in the middle of the night, heart pounding and drenched head to toe in a cold sweat. No more believing heâs failing in his sleep. No more waking up feeling like heâs lost something.
Even his dreams about Sarah had become so, so much more pleasant. Images of her in that field on that night were replaced by different memories, like watching her teammates dogpile her after sheâd scored the winning goal in their soccer tournament, or the big, triumphant grin sheâd flashed him over her chocolate milkshake as the pair sat in their usual corner booth at their favorite fifties-themed diner in Austinâmuch to Joelâs surprise, Sarah had politely declined her teammatesâ invitation for pizza once the match ended, choosing to celebrate her victory with him. Just the two of them.
âYâsure you donât wanna go with your friends, kiddo?â heâd asked, raising an eyebrow. He had been certain she was approaching the age where she would start spending less and less time with her old man. âI wouldnât mind, yâknow.â
âPositive,â she had reassured him with a smile, looping her arm through his and leading him off the pitch. âIâd much rather be with you, dad.â
Rather than smelling metallic in his slumber, he smells the grass that stained her white and blue striped jersey. Her cheeks are smeared with dirt, not with crimson.
Stifling another loud yawn, Joel stretches his arm out over towards your side of the bed, his calloused fingers seeking the warmth and softness of your naked bodyâinstead, all they find are empty sheets, cold and long abandoned. He turns his head, and as suspected, you are not laying there beside him. Thatâs hardly out of the ordinary. Out of the two of you, you were the early riser, up before the neighborsâ rooster even had the chance to sound the alarm. Joel knows how much you treasure your quiet mornings lounging on the porch swing heâd built for you as you watched the sunrise with a hot cup of coffee in hand. He often made a genuine effort to get up and join you, but lately, his patrol rotations had been all over the place thanks to a shortage of patrolmen. He found himself sleeping in whenever he had the chance, seeing as he never knew when he might have to work a damn double. Or maybe it was just his age catching up with him.
He checks the time and then rolls out of bed, groaning when his sore knees and his aching lower back protest his movement.
After taking a quick shower using whatever hot water the kid had left for him after her own showerâmuch to his annoyance, it was not very muchâJoel brushes his teeth and gets dressed for the day before pulling on his boots and heading downstairs into the kitchen where he finds the culprit responsible for the cold downpour heâd been forced to wash himself under. Ellieâs sitting at the table, absentmindedly stirring her oatmeal around her bowl with her spoon as she flips through one of her comic books. Just as heâs about to greet her, he spots the clean, empty coffee pot on the kitchen counter and frowns. You hadnât even made coffee yet?
Now, thatâthat is out of the ordinary.
âWhere is she?â he asks.
âWell, good morning to you too, old man. Oh, I slept great, thanks for asking,â Ellie quips without looking up at him as she flips the page. She mumbles something under her breath he doesnât quite catch, something like, and you get on my ass about my manners?
Rolling his eyes, Joel snorts in response and pads over to the coffee maker on the counter. He spoons in some of the grounds heâd traded for earlier that week into the reusable filter, pours in water from the tap, and turns it on to brew. He grabs two ceramic mugs from the wire dish rack beside the sink and sets them down on the counter. âShe out back?â he questions, yanking the refrigerator door openâhe tries to remember the little things, like how you enjoyed your coffee with a bit of milk as well as a dash of cinnamon, if you had the rations, or something to trade for the precious spice. He always made sure that you did.
âNope.â Ellie shovels a spoonful of oatmeal into her mouth and adds thickly, âShe went to get some eggs.â
Joel shoots her a look of disgust over his shoulder. âJesus, Ellie! How many times do I gotta tell you? Donât talk with your mouth full. Itâs bad manners,â he scolds her, shaking his head. He turns his attention back to the refrigerator. As he reaches for the glass bottle of milk, he pauses and his eyebrows pull together in confusion when he sees the wicker basket on the top shelf. âWait a minute.â He feels her stiffen in her chair. âWhy the hell would she go get eggs when weâve got a full basket of âem right here in the fridge?â
She clears her throat. âOh, uh, my bad. I got confused. Think she said she was gonna go get more honey? Uh, I used the last of it to make my breakfast this morning and she, uhâshe wanted some for her toast. You know, âcause she really likes putting honey on her toast,â she rambles before piling more oatmeal into her mouth.
Closing the refrigerator door, he turns to her, his eyes narrowing with suspicion as uneasiness settles deep in the pit of his stomach. âEllie?â
Thereâs a momentary pause. â...yeah?â
This time, Joel doesnât bother to chastise the teenager for talking with her mouth full. âWhere is she?â
Ellie nervously swallows her food and holds up both of her hands. âHey, I already fucking told you, man.â
âLook, I know you like the back of my own hand, kiddo. And I know damn good and well when youâre lying to me.â Joel crosses his arms over his chest. âNow tell me the truth. What do you know that I donât?â
Groaning, Ellie sits back in her chair. âUgh. She made me swear not to tell you! Sheâll fucking strangle me if I doââ
âYeah, well, not if I fuckinâ strangle you first myself,â he threatens her. âMâSerious, Ellie. Tell me whatâs going on. Right now.â
âAlright, alright! Jesus,â she huffs. âSheâs with Tommy. Heâs been taking her out of town to do target practice in the mornings, just the two of them. She usually gets back to the house before you get up,â she admits.
Joelâs arms fall back to his sides, his shoulders tense. âAnd how long has this been goinâ on?â he asks, rigidly. Thereâs a sudden tightness inside his chest, a feeling he hasnât felt it in a while, but is still all too familiar to him.
After Tommy spread the word around town that more people were needed for patrol duties, youâd expressed an interest in the role, but Joel had been all too quick to shut you down, telling you he didnât want you stepping foot outside the communityâs gates.
âNo,â heâd said. âNot happeninâ. Sâtoo dangerous.â
âBut Joelââ
âI said,â he lowered his voice. âNo.â
He hadnât offered you an explanation as to why he was against it, refused to give you one good, solid reason as to why it was acceptable for him to risk his own life to protect Jackson, but it wasnât acceptable for you to do the same.
Joel hadnât known how to tell you the truth. How he needed you far, far more than you needed him, how the mere thought of losing you, the best fucking thing that could have possibly happened to him since the world ended, made him feel like his heart was going to stop.
A few weeks had passed since then, and thankfully, you never brought it up to him again. You had lost interest in patrol duty. Or so heâd thought.
âHow long has this been going on?â he repeats after a minute.
âCâmon, man! Havenât I already snitched enough?â
âEllie,â Joel bites out her name. âTell me. How long?â
She sighs in defeat. âTwo weeks? Maybe three?â When she notices the muscle in his jaw tick, she grimaces. âYou do realize why she didnât fucking tell you, right?â
âDonât,â he warns her, sharply.
âIâm just saying,â Ellie mutters, peering down into her bowl.
Without another word, Joel angrily storms past her and straight out the front door, snatching up his rifle on the way. He heads straight for the stables, trying to ignore the anxiety flaring inside of his chest.
Focus.
Now, breathe in. And breathe out.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
Breathe in.
Breathe...
You exhale as you slowly squeeze the trigger.
Yâsqueeze it like you love it, you had been told by your reluctant instructor.
The round fires off into the distance and you swiftly grab the bolt handle, bringing it up, back, forward, and then down again. You pull the trigger once more, then repeat and continue firing one shot after the other for a total of five rounds.
The rifleâs recoil nearly sends you flying backwards, but a strong hand on your back keeps you nice and steady. That same hand then moves to your shoulder and gives you three firm taps.
âAlright, alright! Christ,â Tommy laughs. He withdraws his arm from around you and shakes his head. âFuckinâ calm down, Annie Oakley.â
Picking up his binoculars, he rises to his feet and looks through the lens at the makeshift targets that heâd set up for you, three empty soup cans lined up in a row on top of a wooden fence about twenty-five yards awayâyour longest shooting distance to date.
âWell?â You donât even bother masking your impatience as you lower the rifle, carefully propping the weapon up against the tree stump youâre perched behind. Rubbing your sore shoulder, you hope the kickback wonât leave a bruise. You wouldnât know how to explain that to Joel. âHow did I do?â
His response comes in the form of a long, low whistle.
There is no telling if that had been good whistle, or if it had been a bad one. You groan. Now was not the time for him to dick around. âPlease tell me I got at least one of them?â
âYou got âem all, actually.â Tommy replies, lowering the binoculars and peering down at you. Thereâs a glimmer of pride in his eyes. âGood job, kid.â
Kid? Not exactly a nickname one wants to be called by the brother of the much, much older man that they are romantically involved with. Itâd taken Tommy months to accept your relationship with Joel, especially when you moved your things out of your unit and into his over the summer. Part of you wonders if him referring to you as a kid is simply his own subtle way of telling youâno, of reminding you, that heâs still not comfortable with it.
And perhaps he never would be.
After all, you had still been a teenager when you first arrived to Jackson a few years ago, stumbling upon the town just a few months shy of the twentieth birthday you werenât sure you would survive long enough to see.
You were indeed a kid when youâd met Tommy Miller.
Were.
Scowling up at him, you snap, âI told you to stop calling me that. Iâm not nineteen anymore, Tommy.â
Having read your mind, he gives you a small smile and acknowledges, âYeah, youâre right. You definitely ainât a kid anymore.â He offers you his hand and hoists you up to your feet. Before dropping your hand, he gives it an apologetic squeeze.
You relax a little and smile back at him. âDid I really get all three?â
Tommy nods. âYou sure did. Youâre a damn good shot. I gotta be honest with youâI didnât expect you to be this fuckinâ good,â he admits sheepishly.
Chuckling, you scoff, âThanks. I think.â
âItâs a compliment, sugar.â He winks and flashes you a lopsided grin. âIn fact, Iâd say my work here is done.â
âGreat! So when are you putting me on the roster?â
His grin instantly vanishes. âUh, listen. About that....â
He trails off, and your heart sinks a little.
Tommy wouldnât back out of this nowâwould he?
âOh, no. Donât you dare go back on your word, Miller,â you say, lightly poking him in the chest. âWe had a deal. You said if I did well enough, youâd think about it.â
He nods in agreement. âExactly. Said Iâd think about it. And I think that puttinâ you on the roster for patrol ainât a good idea.â
Your mouth falls open. If he never had any intention of holding up his end of the bargain, then what had been the point of teaching you how to shoot?
You didnât understand.
âYou just said it yourself, Iâm a great shot! Iâm a good on horseback, too. Iâm stealthy. Iâm diligent. What more do you fucking need from me, Tommy?â
Tommyâs chest heaves with a heavy sigh. âJoel would fuckinâ murder me with his bare hands if I even thought about puttinâ you on patrol duty. Hell, heâd murder me just knowinâ weâre out here and Iâm teachinâ you how to shoot. Itâs a damn fuckinâ miracle he still hasnât caught onto this, yâknow.â
Shocked, your eyebrows shoot to your hairline. âThis is about Joel? Are you serious?â
ââCourse it is.â He pauses. âListen, now I know the three of us had ourâdifferencesâwhen he first told me âbout you two. Still takinâ me a bit of gettinâ used to, but I can see heâs real serious about you. I know my brother, and I know he wonât risk losinâ whatâs most important to him. Ainât no way in hell. He doesnât want you out here and you know that as well as I do.â Tommy shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans, shrugging as he shuffles his weight from one cowboy boot to the other. âUnless heâs alright with it, I ainât gonna put you on the roster.â
For a moment, youâre at a complete loss for words.
Upon seeing the crestfallen expression on your face, he makes a suggestion. âYou can try talkinâ to him âbout it again if it means that much to you. Ask himââ
âAsk?â You want to laugh. You almost do. âIâm an adult, Tommy. I donât need his permission to do this. Or to do anything for that matter. Joel doesnât tell me what I can and canât do.â
Tommy smiles wryly. âWell then, if thatâs the case, why are we sneakinâ around and doinâ this behind his back?â
Your shoulders slump in defeat.
Because the ramifications could be disastrous.
Joel had made his stance on the matter abundantly clear, and yet here you were, deliberately disobeying him.
âStumped you real good, didnât I?â
Before you can even start to think about how you can possibly respond to that, you hear the sound of hooves in the dirt behind you, followed by whinny of a horse.
Tommyâs face pales as he glances over your shoulder.
âShit.â
Thereâs no need for you to ask. His grimace says it all.
Somehow, you will yourself to turn around just as Joelâs steed comes to a halt beside the mare you and Tommy had ridden out on together. He jumps out of the saddle, grunting at the forceful impact on his knees when his feet hit the ground. His rifle hangs from a worn, brown leather strap slung across his back.
He approaches the two of you looking absolutely livid, and your throat goes dry.
âThe hell is goinâ on here?â He breezes right past you, roughly shoving his brother with both hands. âWhy the fuck would you bring her out here, Tommy? What the fuck is the matter with you?â
âJoel, câmon. Take it easyââ
âDonât fuckinâ tell me to take it easy!â
âJoel!â You reach for his arm. âWait, itâs not his fault!â
Joel shoves him again, then takes him by the collar of his shirt and pins him against the ponderosa pine tree behind him. âYouâve been bringinâ her outside the gates behind my fuckinâ back for weeks, asshole?â
The panic begins to set inâheâs taking his anger out on the wrong person, and deep down, he knows this too.
âJoel! Stop! Let him go!â Grabbing fistfuls of his jacket, you try pulling him off of the younger man. âStop it! Itâs not his fault! I asked Tommy to bring me out here!â
He whirls around, his nostrils flared, jaw clenched.
Youâve seen this side of him a handful of times before.
But his anger has never been directed at you.
âWhat?â
Immediately, you let go of him and take a step back. âI asked Tommy to bring me out here and teach me how to shoot so that I can start working patrol,â you explain, hoping, praying, he doesnât catch the slight tremble in your voice. âThis was all my idea, okay? If youâre going to be mad at someone, then be mad at me. Not at him.â
âSo you did this after I fuckinâ told you I didnât want you out here?â Joel seethes. His neck becomes flushed, his tan skin now a deep shade of red.
âJoelââ
He cuts you off. âI had to find out from Ellie? You tried to get her to fuckinâ lie to me? After all the work it took for me and her toââ Stopping mid sentence, he places his hands on his hips and shakes his head.
âJoel. Please.â Behind the anger in his dark brown eyes, you detect something else. A mingle of hurt, concernâfear?
Tommy awkwardly clears his throat. âWell Iâm, uhâIâm gonna head back to town,â he says, touching a hand to the back of his neck. âIâll let the two of you work things out in private.â As he passes Joel, he lightly claps him on the shoulder. âGirlâs a sharp shooter, big brother. Iâd reckon sheâs almost better than you.â
His effort to lighten the mood fails. Miserably.
Offering you a subtle nod of encouragement, Tommy hops into the saddle of his mare and takes off towards the commune.
Silence falls over the both of you. It feels suffocating.
Unfamiliar.
Finally, you speak. âJoel, please just hear me outââ
âWhat the hell were you thinkinâ? Or were you just not thinkinâ at all?â
âI was thinking I want to pull my weight in Jackson.â
âYou already have a fuckinâ job,â Joel reminds you.
âMaking sandwiches and serving whiskey at The Tipsy Bison?â You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest. âI am capable of more than that, Joel. So much more. Donât you believe Iâm capable of doing more?â
âI donât want you out here,â he grits through his teeth. âCapable or not, I donât want you outside Jacksonâs walls. I donât want you on patrol and thatâs fuckinâ final. You understand me?â Now itâs him who falters, and you wonder if youâre imagining things, or if thatâs really a tear you see sliding down the side of his face, disappearing into the salt and pepper scruff of his beard.
âThatâs not your decision to make, Joel. Itâs mine.â
âMâresponsible for you. Itâs my job to look after youâto protect you.â
Something about the way he is looking at you, it feels like a punch to the gut, and itâs at that precise moment when you begin to realize that heâs not angry. Heâs afraid.
âJoel, I know that all you want to do is protect me,â you sigh, letting your arms fall down to your sides. âI know you do. But youâre doing me no favors by trying to keep me sheltered. By treating me like Iâm defenseless. Donât forget, Iâm a survivor too.â
âYou already know how fuckinâ dangerous it is out here. Clickers, raidersââ
âI can handle it,â you insist, stubbornly.
âYouâd be puttinâ yourself right in harmâs way!â
You shoot back, âYou mean, the way you and so many other people put yourselves in harmâs way every single day for the sake of keeping Jackson safe?â
A frustrated growl rumbles through his chest. âChrist, why are you beinâ so fuckinâ foolish? Youâre just askinâ to get yourself killed!â
âI can take care of myself!â You realize your hands are shaking and curl them into tight fists at your sides in an effort to hide it. âJust accept it, Joel! Accept that I can take care of myself, alright?â
That is all it takes to tip Joel over the edge heâs been teetering on. âThen what do you fuckinâ need me for?â he shouts, his voice thundering over the quiet plains of Wyoming. âIf you can take care of yourself, whatâs the point in us beinâ together? Why are you with me?â
âBecause I love you!â
As soon as the confession comes tumbling out of your mouth, you take a step back, your wide eyes meeting his own. Until now, neither of you have ever called this what it is, been bold enough to say itâs love.
Loving after so much grief, so much loss, is daunting. Itâs something you thought you would never be capable of doing again, not in this lifetime. Not in this world. Itâs happened, though.
You love Joel Miller.
And he loves you.
Heâs never told you he does, but heâs shown you.
From the way remembers how you take your coffee in the mornings, to the way he laces his fingers with your own, holding your hand when heâs buried inside of you, whispering sweet nothings into your collarbone every single night.
âYouâyou what?â Joelâs whisper is hardly audible.
You inch your way closer to him, your voice soft. âI love you,â you declare once more. âIâm not with you because of what you can do for me. Iâm not with you because you can take care of me.â Closer. âIâm with you because I love youâbecause Iâm in love with you, Joel.â Closer, until your chest brushes against his, and he can smell the subtle scent of your homemade, rosewater soap. âThe only thing I need, and have ever needed from you, is your love in return.â
His throat bobs. Before you can utter another word, he lifts his hands and gently takes your face, cradling it in between his large palms, gently. His eyes search yours, immediately finding the sincerity behind your words. Leaning down, he brushes the tip of nose against your own as one of his hands travels down, his long fingers curling around the nape of your neck. His thumb lightly strokes the column of your throat.
âI love you,â Joel says hoarsely. Three words he hadnât said to anyone in over two decadesâit feels foreign to him, they ring strange in his own ears. He tries it again, clearer this time, and with a little more confidence. After all, heâs only saying what he has known from the very start. âI love you.â His other hand moves to your hip, pulling you even closer to him. âMâgonna love you for the rest of my life, baby.â
He leans in further and presses his lips to yours lightly, at first, but he wastes no time in sweeping his tongue across your bottom lip, silently asking for more.
Your mouth parts for him, and he backs you against the ponderosa, kissing you deeply, greedily, like heâs a man starved.
You whimper into him, your hands sliding up his broad chest and past his shoulders until theyâre tangled in his soft, graying curls. He breathes you in, like you are the oxygen he needs to stay alive.
It isnât until you both hear the sound of rustling behind a nearby shrub that youâre forced to pull apart. âDonât move,â Joel instructs in a hushed voice. He keeps you pinned against the tree, his hand abandoning your hip. He glances around, slowly reaching behind his back for his rifle. His tense shoulders relax when the both of you see a pair of rabbits dart out from one dried bush and straight into another. Exhaling an amused huff, Joel shifts his attention back to you and rests his forehead against yours.
Smiling, you reach up and softly graze his beard with your fingertips. âGuess itâs about time we called this what it is, huh?â
âGuess youâre right, darlinâ.â He lifts his chin, brushing a kiss onto your forehead. âMâsorry for raisinâ my voice to you. For talkinâ to you the way I did. Sâjust, the thought of somethinâ happeninâ to you out here scares shit out of me.â Taking a step back, he pulls the strap of his rifle from around his shoulder. He chews the inside of his cheek and silently stares at the gun in his hands. After a minute, he meets your curious gaze. âDo you really wanna do this, sweet girl?â
You nod. âYeah. I really do.â
Joel sighs. âCan I put a condition it?â
âDepends on what that condition is.â
âIâm your patrol partner. Every shift. Every rotation.â
You roll your eyes. âJoel.â
âAt least for the first few weeks,â he bargains. âLast thing I need is for you to be paired up with some fuckinâ idiot who doesnât know what the hell theyâre doinâ.â
Knowing that would be the only way heâd have some peace of mind, you decide to agree. âFine. Weâre patrol partners.â
âAlright then.â Joel nods and hands you the rifle. He flashes you a small grin. âShow me what you got, baby.â
divider credit to @/saradika đ
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#joel miller x reader#fic: call it what it is#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x you#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller one shot#the last of us fanfiction#tlou fanfiction
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I thought I was free from the Homestuck for the longest of times. Only for that to be reignited with a vengeance today. Suddenly I am really feeling for my last fantroll and part of the reason why I ended up becoming absolutely obsessed with the buny
#spooky yelling (ooc)#yes i am talking about my cyborg bunny troll Sylvii#who knows#maybe she might get an rp blog and a soft reboot
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in which: alhaitham resorts to lying on top of you in order to get you speaking to him again.
quick alhaitham thought i needed to get off my mind, making out at the end lol, potentially ooc
there were a lot of things you didnât expect when entering a relationship with alhaitham. you didn't expect him to have kaveh as a roommate, you didnât expect him to overthrow the government, and you didnât expect him to resort to pettiness in order to end the silent treatment you were giving him.
itâs suffocating beneath him, squished into his soft mattress with his body weight, muscles wrapped around you like a python whilst one arm is extended outwards, balancing a book. you wonder if heâs actually reading it, but you can tell heâs enjoying himself regardless, evident through the way he often turns his head to place a kiss on your exposed collarbone, burying his face into your warmth from here to there.Â
for the umpteenth time, you grunt, losing your mind just a little. his body warmth was getting too much, and youâve been lying here for who knows how long, just staring at the ceiling of his bedroom.
you want to protest, berate him for flattening you before shoving him off, but that would mean surrendering, and this time, you want alhaitham to be the one to give up first.Â
as if hearing your thoughts, your grey-haired lover then glances up at you, sleepy gaze filtered through messy strands of hair that have fallen in front of his eyes. you almost cave at the domesticity of it all, only just stopping yourself from brushing his bangs away.Â
âstill upset?â he murmurs, putting his book face-down to wrap his arms tighter around your torso. âfine. have it your way, iâm going to nap.â
âno-â he perks up at the sound of your voice, raising an eyebrow as a mask of smugness gleams over his face. you shut your mouth immediately, cursing at yourself to slip up so easily, but you really needed to stretch out your legs and the other discomforts of lying like an unmoving plank beneath alhaitham.Â
âwhat was that?â challenges your boyfriend. you donât answer him, merely staring him down as he sits back, grabbing your wrists. âoh come on, i know you want to say something, out with it.âÂ
shaking your head, he scoffs at your stubbornness as if his isnât just as frustrating, and gently caresses your hand. his touch is tantalising, urging you to give in, and paired with that lidded look of his, itâs practically impossible not to.
not many people get to see alhaitham like this, you realise. most know him as an indifferent, closed off, and unapproachable scribe, turned grand sage, turned scribe, yet you get the honour of seeing him as this. âtalk to me already,â he demands gently, not letting his grip waver even as you keep trying to pull your hands away, only slipping away so far before heâs holding you again.
there arenât many battles you can win against him, you know that, and one of them was a battle of strength. as he holds your wrists tight to your sides, his face so close to yours, you feel his earlier playfulness melting into something sincere.Â
âare you still mad?â asks alhaitham, furrowing his eyebrows slightly as a pout appears along his lips. the response you give him is a petulant turn of your head. he sighs through his nose. âiâm sorry, okay? i was out of line, i should have listened to you, alright?â
his tone is uncharacteristically kind and warm, warm enough for you to give in to his pleas.
âyou mean it?â you tease, grinning widely at him. in the blink of an eye, the tension from alhaithamâs shoulder seeps away like sand, and he sighs with relief before agreeing, a solid âyesâ slipping through his mouth. âthen i accept your apology.â
âyou minx, enjoying the sight of me like this, aren't you-â he murmurs, and you swallow his brewing snide remarks with a kiss, closing the gap by firmly pressing your lips against his. alhaitham is not surprised by your sudden affection. rather, he welcomes it, melts into you wholly as a hand holds the back of your neck to keep you against him. you're warm and precious and everything he could ever desire, so he can't help but let his hands wander, searching for more.
as your mouths slot together, thereâs a delicate exchange of apologies that words cannot express; ironic, since alhaitham knows of several ways to apologise in a multitude of languages. nevertheless, he thinks that this is the best method.
with the way you move in sync with him, he can tell that this is your favourite too.Â
Š EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.
#vibe check kinda fic for him#the way i am literally seething biting my hand and lips to try and not let the end escalate#alhaitham x reader#al-haitham x reader#al haitham x reader#genshin impact x reader#alhaitham fluff#al-haitham fluff#genshin x reader
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