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pettyprocrastination · 1 year

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whoever this beloved anon was I am so touched by your kindness! You definitely didn’t have to do this but I am so happy you enjoy this idea and I will happily expand upon it for you!

this is just a collection of word vomit bullet points for the time being but I will happily answer any and all questions about this pair!!

warnings: violence, angst, child death (Sarah Miller), foul language, the same warnings that apply to tlou, reader is Sarah's mom and described as having similar features to her.

So the general Idea is that you and Joel are happily married before the outbreak.

You had been Sarah's mother, his high school sweetheart he got pregnant when neither of you were old enough to have any reaction to the pregnancy test other than a fucking panic attack in one another’s arms. but you made it work

you both worked but made time for one another and your sweet girl, going to museums every other weekend and joel insisting on swooping you off for a date every now and then

nothing special. He knows you’re more of a diner gal than anything too fancy that makes you both feel out of place.

On his birthday in 2003, you had planned to tell him that you were pregnant again. But the memories of your own fears of motherhood from all those years ago begin to swirl through your head again and you get cold feel. deciding to tell him the morning after

it is his birthday afterall, you want to focus on him.

but when you’re woken up in the middle of the night because tommy needs to get bailed out, Joel kisses you sweetly one last time before promising he’ll be back and you can’t shake the feeling that something bad is happening.

its you that shakes sarah awake that night. shouting at her to put on her shoes when she’s still rubbing the sleep from her eyes because you’ve been listening to the radio for the past two hours, calling joel again and again and again praying for him to fucking pick up but to no avail.

Sarah, bless your little girl’s bleeding heart is the one who insists you check on the adler’s against your better suspicions and when you find the eldest looming over her daughter, blood and sinew dripping from her mouth, you grab your daughter hand and burst into a full sprint until something slams into your back and sends you tumbling onto their front lawn

its how joel finds you, struggling to keep the once sweet old woman, whose now nothing more than dead eyes and gnashing teeth straining to snap at your pulse point as you push against her while sarah shrieks before your husband runs forward and cracks her skull with a wrench.

there’s hardly a moment of pause, just enough for him to pull you up and into his arms before he’s ushering you both into the car with an urgency.

when the truck crashes, you get separated from them. Perhaps at Tommy’s side when the flames rise and create a wall, separating you from your husband, or maybe pulled into the mob of chaos when trying to escape from those already infected-

all joel knows is that you promise you’ll find him: just get sarah to safety and you’ll meet him at the river

Poor thing is already so frightened, held in her father’s arms with tears streaming down her face insisting they can’t leave you they just can’t but her father kisses her forehead and reassures her its going to be okay

“we just need to be brave, okay babygirl? Your mama’s real tough, she’s gonna be alright.”

he isn’t sure if he’s saying it to his daughter or himself.

but when he comes to the river you aren’t there. Only a soldier who points a gun at the scared little girl in his arms and then he loses everything

its when the light is gone from his daughter’s eyes that he realizes. His voice cracked and raw from sobbing that he looks around to see his brother with drawn in shoulders and tears in his eyes but his wife is nowhere to be found.

Tommy says you got lost in the chaos. Everything was so loud, so sudden that he turned around and suddenly you weren’t there.

Joel wants to go back but its Tommy that stops him, that dulls the red in his vision to a sad faded pink because his brother points at the orange horizon not too far from them, so much of the city is already in flames.

“We’re gonna find her, but not there.”

So Joel searches. for the first year spent in the world post-outbreak its all he did.

He became a smuggler because of it.

Information came at a price and he needed to be able to fucking pay it, whether it be in blood or ration cards. He was willing to do anything to find you or any thin thread that lead your way.

But it’s Tommy that asks him to give up. Not in those words of course.

The youngest Miller knows better than to say something so cruel that would make his brother, the only person he has in this world turn on him.

But his voice is worried when he asks him one night in Boston when he hasn’t even had the chance to wash the blood from his knuckles

“You think she would have wanted this for you?”

the fight that followed his words was brutal. Vicious insults and scarred fists slamming against each brother until they're both too tired and bloody to continue. Each leaning against a wall for support and Tommy’s wavering voice breaking the silence.

“I don’t know where she is, Joel. But I do know you're gonna get yourself killed if you keep lookin’ for her.”

All he can do is nod.

It’s a few days later when he meets Tess. Who has heard plenty of stories about the elder miller’s brutality and wants him to put that muscle to good use for some extra profit.

It begins his new life. One that empty and cold but one he can live.

Until of course, Ellie comes along. The sweet and incredibly opinionated girl that makes him become something akin to the man he thought died twenty years ago.

its when he’s traveling with Ellie, that it happens. When a warm familiarity has settled between the two because so much blood and pain has been shared he can’t help but see her as something close, something bright even though all he can force himself to utter in her reference is “cargo”

when theyre traveling through the woods as Ellie chatters away, probing his memory about a movie that may or may not have existed thirty years ago because her descriptions of the plot are incredibly odd he hears a voice shout for them to stop and finds himself staring at a man- no, a boy- pointing a gun at them.

Ellie stills, but Joel can see enough to know that from the lanky figure and dimpled face that he’s young. Maybe twenty, twenty-two at the oldest, but his eyes dart from Joel to Ellie with a pinprick of fear that allows Joel the time to charge forward and slam him to the ground before wrestling the gun from his hands.

He has enough to time to tuck it under the stranger’s chin before he hears the sound of the safety being turned off and finds himself looking up and seeing a gun just inches from his face.

Joel’s head whips around when Ellie’s voice calls out his name in fear, he turns to see another stranger holding her a gun point, shoulders drawn back and a shadow cast over their face by the had obstructing their identity.

“You hurt one of mine, I hurt one of yours. That a fair deal?”

Its takes him a moment to recognize you. It’s been so long since he’s heard your voice, the sweet tease when you would poke at him each time he woke up late despite the fact that you reminded him to set his alarm the night before, the times you’d chide him with a harsh “Joel Miller!” whispered in public anytime he was able to grab you a bit too passionately to be appropriate in public but the laughter in your voice let him know you were never truly mad at him. You didn’t know how to be.

But that sweetness is buried under a cold rasp that cuts through the air as you point a rifle at the scared little girl in front of you.

“You think I won’t?” You’re older now, skin covered in scars from a life he didn’t know you got the chance to live and your eyes are cold as they regard your husband. “Put the gun down and get the fuck off of him, I won’t repeat myself.”

Joel mumbles your name in awe. The woman he loved, the woman he mourned the one he fought so hard to find stands before him like some sort of hallucination and suddenly the world feels like its spinning until you bark orders at him again.

“You’ve got five seconds Joel, make a fucking choice before I make it for you.”

He looks down and realizes the boy under him, the one with the bleeding nose and snarling face has your eyes and his dimples.

“One.”

The one above him has Sarah’s hair. Soft brown curls that shine under the sun.

“Two”

Wait. No, they both do.

“Three.”

Twins. Jesus fucking Christ you had twins.

“Four.”

Joel holds the rifle up above his head and the one boy standing snatches it from his grasp, tossing it to the ground and kicking it far from his reach. He slowly stands, allowing your son- dear god your son- to scramble to his feet.

Your voice softens just for a moment. “You okay, Duke?”

Blood stains the bottom half of his face from where Joel slammed his fist into the boy’s nose just moments before, but he nods nonetheless.

Now, they both stand on one side of you and he can see the resemblance clear as day the same way he would whenever Sarah was by your side.

When you order him to hand over his bag, he does so without question before telling Ellie to do the same.

She watches him with wide eyes, her hands still up in the air but gaping at her companion as if he had grown a second head.

“Joel!” “Just do it, alright?”

He doesn’t miss the way you watch their interaction with narrowed eyes until she tosses her bag to you and you slowly lower your gun.

“Now, you want to tell me what the fuck you think you’re doin’ at my home?”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #i had an idea of something similar for tommy but on outbreak night he uh. abandons you instead of getting separated from you #because. angst :D #people say nice things #this was incredibly generous of you anon thank you so so much!#i may get myself a little starbucks drink this week now because I havent had starbucks since like january 1st lol #joel reeling from taking in all this information and also realizing he suckerpunched HIS OWN KID #id like to apologize for all the grammatical issues with this. this is just a bulletpoint word vomit to get my thoughts on the page before-#-beginning the actual fic. also I have to do a midterm tonight and this is my treat to myself hehe #but yes. joel getting separated from his wife on outbreak night and having to accept that shes probably dead #meanwhile youve lived this entire life without him because you think HES dead ad raising your boys all on your own #which just- further digs into his insecurities about failing in his role as a protector #he couldn't save sarah. he can't save ellie and he couldn't even save you #he thinks about you pregnant and alone. fending for yourself in a world full of infected and raiders and his chest grows tight again #this is all followed by Ellie going >:O 'you KNOW THIS PSYCHO?'and then joel immediately snapping at her to WATCH HER MOUTH #because that kid has no filter and he has to explain that youre his wife #anyways joels wife is a badass mfer who also maybe has a little garden and some chickens that you and your boys take care of <3 yeah .#reunion tag #ill be using that for this specific couple because I dont have a fic title yet but if anybody has suggestions!

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00fairylights00 · 5 months

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I hope this will be a healing message...... I keep thinking of making a high-humanity P laugh really hard 🥹 like doing or saying something he thinks is SO hilarious that he is literally on the floor, gasping for breath, unable to speak because he is genuinely dying with laughter.

Prolly would take some real tame shit to make him laugh like that too. Like a funny drawing.

I will keel over and die but in a happy, positive way. If you would allow me to add onto this though I’d like to think the higher the humanity the more his body reacts to touch, I think he’d be ticklish!

His head is in your lap, the usual resting place for him on sunny afternoons like this. The heat makes everyone sleepy and with Krat no longer under eminent threat P can finally just laze around and relax to his heart’s content.

The light turns his hair a chocolate brown as you run your fingers through it slowly, stopping every now and again to scratch at his scalp which earns you a happy hum and a beautiful, closed eye smile. Your other hand rests on the warm skin of his chest, visible through the opening in his shirt.

You can feel the steady beat of his heart under your palm, and the hand of his legion arm is laying on top of your own, squeezing every now and again to tell you that he’s not asleep, he promises he won’t fall asleep, he’s a liar but he’s happy and you don’t mind and he knows you don’t mind.

The heat is turning your mind syrupy but not enough that you don’t notice him flinch ever so slightly when the hand in his hair brushes against the length of his neck, his eyebrows furrow for only a moment but the idea is already in your head.

You only wish to test your theory.

As gently as you can you brush your fingers against his neck again, this time with far more intention. P jerks up, trying to escape your hold but you’re already one step ahead, having braced your arm across his front to trap him against you.

A beautiful sound falls from him, you can feel it through his back as much as you can hear it, he’s laughing!

A proper, joyful, bordering on hysterical laugh. The sound was higher pitched than his talking voice, but was still rich and warm. You come to realise that this is the loudest he’s ever been, you don’t think you’ve ever heard P raise his voice. It’s nice to see him let loose, smiling big, broad and unabashedly.

With everything over and the state of his humanity clear, watching him navigate the ways he was taken advantage of was a careful thing. He’d become well acquainted with being angry and with being sad, so the moments when you could have him rolling on the floor, losing his mind over something silly was a blessing in every sense of the word.

You pushed him forward, the two of you wrestling against your bedsheets until you came out victorious. You sat straddled atop his stomach, digging your fingers into his neck as he squirmed and pleaded for mercy,

“Stop stop, I can’t breathe,” he laughed, throwing his head back and then pulling his chin toward his chest in hopes of trapping your hands.

You continued your assault of feather light touches, poking and prodding at other areas you thought might also be ticklish.

His chest, his armpits, his sides. It was the prod to his stomach that made him yell suddenly and almost throw you off of him entirely, as you tried to recover your balance he swept your wrists between one hand, breathing heavily as he tried to calm down.

“What… was that?” He asked breathlessly, smiling up at you dazedly.

“Tickling,” you hummed, also catching your breath.

“I thought I was gonna die,” he groaned dramatically, “do it again.”

“Catch your breath first,” you instructed, breaking your hands free of his grasp gently, “it’s nice to see you laughing, you deserve to be happy.”

His eyebrows turned upward as he soaked in your earnestness, a quiet thank you said with his eyes. His hands brushed against your outer thighs, you squirmed with a giggle and a mischievous smile took over his face.

“No,” you warned, “Pino don’t!”

He dug his fingers into your sides, copying your movements and making you squeal, he’d always been a quick learner.

#hey it’s bloodbrown #fairy is answering #i would like to once again make clear i have not finished the game and have no idea what is meant to or implied to happen afterwards #with that out of the way #cat behaviour p supremacy always #did I make it sunny because it’s very hot where I live right now or because I want him to wear the white shirt again? You’ll never know #this ask made my day #all warm and fuzzy in my chest #pulling P’s first laugh from him? What a privilege #I have another plot bunny about this in my notes so please expect that you’ll be seeing this concept again #did I choose tickling instead of saying something funny? Yes because I am not funny #I'm sure if I tried harder I could be funny but not tonight #I am to eepy #I am gonna eat that boy #lies of p x reader #pinocchio x reader #p x reader #lies of p #dec 2023 #🦋 let your conscience be your guide

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