Omg Yall What If I Write A Joel Fic Where Its Set During/maybe Right After The Bill And Frank Episode

omg y’all what if i write a joel fic where it’s set during/maybe right after the bill and frank episode and it’s just joel reflecting on what the reader means to him bc they’re kind of in a pretending not to be pining but it’s so obvious phase

and then the reader mentions how nice it seems to just have your purpose be someone and living a life the way bill and frank did and joel agrees but it’s a lot deeper than the reader realizes

also could see ellie being in the back the entire time absolutely going through it with how oblivious everyone but her seems to be 😭

Oh boy, not the 'sneaky era' 😭🤣 I'm thrilled, but scared. I saw in ch 7 that Noel was never mentioned....is that man dead? I feel like he could be dead in a ditch somewhere. Y/n wasn't able to find him before she left the party in ch 5 too. Then again, he never did anything wrong to us so maybe he was let off the hook. Also love how Stu babies us 🥴 like yes, cut my oranges and take care of mwah 🤣 him buying me books was giving off sugar daddy vibes too. Kinda terrified that he was able to convince my own mom to let him teach me to drive. Speaking of her, did we ever tell her about that second Ghostface call? Did we ever tell her about our 'date' with Noel? I would think she'd be mad and worried since Noel is a guy.

Kinda off topic, but I'm hoping Hallie shows up to Woodsborrow to cause chaos 😌 we seemed wary about her coming there and there's gotta be a reason for that, especially since we only seem worried about her meeting Billy and Stu. Hallie also feels like a troublemaker since she's known as 'Hurricane Hallie' too and it's scaring me 🤣 Billy and Stu probably wouldn't like her either just bc she is our bestie and knows us better than they do. It's like the Gloria situation, they'd be jealous we have other people to turn to....and I love making them mad. I wonder if we have other friends from Texas or if Hallie is literally the only real one that stuck around 🥲 so excited for the next chapter!

ah i love seeing people excited about final girl!! "thrilled but scared" is so valid 😭

where's Noel is a super valid question...and so are all of your guesses,, ig all i have to say is that you'll see, it wouldn't be a sneaky era if i told you

also yeah stu for sure did give sugar daddy a little, i head canon him as someone whose parents aren't around much and that they genuinely think giving him gifts and access to money with little to no regulations/restrictions makes up for it almost fully

all he knows is throwing money at who he cares about bc he doesn't know how to express his feelings into words, the babying is the second part of that,, it's him sort of instinctually doing what a subconscious part of him wishes someone would have done for him

and as far as the mom thing... yeah stu didn't get through the entire scream movie without ever really being suspected despite all the jokes he made while billy who was being accused for nothing,, he knows how to manipulate!! how to interpret what people see him as and play into it when it's convenient and how to play as misunderstood when it isn't

mansplain, manipulate, malewife and in that order

all the questions about what y/n's mom doesn't know are really good!! in part 6 it's briefly mentioned that Billy and y/n called y/n's mom after calling the police about the Ghostface call so she knows

the noel thing and whether or not her mom knows does come up!! so i won't say anything about it rn :))

also so happy you mentioned Hallie 😭 i have plans for her lol,, nothing too crazy,, but billy and stu will meet her soon enough

Billy: *calls y/n* where are you?

Y/n: the shower… can you come help

Billy: yes! *rushes to the bathroom*

Stu: *is on his hands and knees trying to peak under the door sticking his fingers under it* come on y/n come out?!

Billy: *sighs realizing that this was the reason they needed help*

Hi, I’m sorry to bother you. I’m not sure if your still making them but if you end up making more of the Final Girl fic with Billy and Stu, could you please tag me in it. I was going to try asking in the comments of the post but I wouldn’t let me, no pressure or anything I just wanted to ask in case

thank you

Hi hon! never a bother to receive an ask,, i am for sure still writing final girl...part 8 is just taking way longer than expected but i'm getting there!

i'd be happy to add you to the taglist but since this is an anonymous message idk your username in order to tag you

the commenting thing is weird?? never heard of that on one of my posts, but it's probably just a glitch or something,, you can send another ask off of anon if you can't comment or you can message me to be added (or, if you see this and can comment on this post, i'll know your username!!) anything that lets me see your username and we'll be good!!

Purpose

“This is the fic I talked about here

Summary: Episode 3 was too beautiful for me not to write a fic where bill’s letter makes joel think about reader 

anyways this isn’t an exact recreation of the episode,, it’s more about location and the vibes of the episode

----

The words won’t stop echoing in his head. Again and again, a round of bullets bouncing around in his mind, desperate for a target to pierce. Bill’s letter was written in anything but malice, yet it still manages to pry into Joel, get under his skin the way nothing has in a long time. 

Purpose. Saving, taking care of who’s worth it. The mention of Tess. The way his mind keeps floating to you. 

He shouldn’t. You haven’t been around long enough to even scratch at the surface of what Bill and Frank had. He knows that, but his mind won’t stop weaving the sentiment in Bill’s words to all the bits of you he knows. The tempo of them matches the sound of your laugh, the emotion behind them tethers itself to the tugging feeling that lingers in his chest whenever you tilt your head and look at him with those eyes when pitching something he’d instinctually say ‘no’ to.

It’s never a form of manipulation, either. It’s always teasing, always pushing in good humor, always innocent. You never take advantage, never try to. He doesn’t even think you know that you have that specific look. One person worth saving. 

There’s a soft creaking of floorboards. Joel turns his head instinctually, body stiffening in an instinctual preparation for the worst. Oh. His eyes find you and his stance instinctually eases. “Guys.” You’re more excited than you want to seem, completely unaware of the thoughts in his head. “They have hot water.” 

Ellie recovers faster than he can. For a brief second, Joel feels a pang of something oddly close to jealousy at her ability to interact casually. “No, shit--really?” 

“Really,” you confirm, “Does anyone want the first shower or can I steal it?” 

Turning her head, Ellie briefly looks like she’s considering asking for it instead, but then her eyes flit back to Joel. He’s staring, a little more out of it than she’s yet to see him. There’s something bordering on awkward in the way that he’s watching you. 

Oh. The realization finally hits Ellie. A hot shower would be amazing, but putting it off for a little will definitely be worth this. “I’m okay with that.”

You nod in her direction with a quick mumble of appreciation before turning your eyes to focus on Joel. You’re not doing the plead-y thing. His thoughts swell. Of course you’re just waiting patiently for an answer, genuinely willing to give up the first shower spot that you could have just taken. 

“Joel?” 

Shit. He hasn’t responded. “Ye--” It’s a small sound that’s not quite a word that Joel quickly disguises by clearing his throat. “Yeah, go ahead.” 

Ellie’s eyes are burningly obvious. Even if you didn’t notice, Joel’s never hearing the end of it from that kid. 

You lean against the doorway. “You good?” 

“Fine,” now he’s replying too quickly, “Just--Bill said a lot more to me than he ever has.” Great. His second mistake. The last thing he needed to do was hint at emotion, the one thing guaranteed to sway you away from the promise of a hot shower. “If you ask me about my feelings you’re losing your first shower spot and I’ll run the sink until it’s icy.” 

You cross your arms in front of your chest. “You wouldn’t, Miller.” 

“Try me.” 

He can feel your eyes burn through him, can sense the way you see through his shit. You don’t push, you just straighten your stance, “Fine, you’ll only have that threat until I’m out of that shower.” 

Joel keeps his expression flat. “Plenty of time for me to think of a new one.” 

“Looking forward to it.” 

 When you disappear out of his line of sight, his breathing improves and worsens all at once. Joel curses the ridiculousness of it. Sure, there were certain thoughts when he was around you before the letter, but this is something else. Something he needs to get over fast.

He lets his eyes drop towards Ellie and he takes her grin as the gut punch it is. “I’ve never seen you shy--it’s cute.” 

“Don’t.” 

She doesn’t even have the decency to pretend to be influenced by the gruffness of his voice. “Don’t what?” 

The false innocence in Ellie’s tone isn’t worth engaging with. Joel glares, turning to leave the room before anything else can be said. 

----

Leave it to the end of the world to teach someone how to appreciate the little things. A lifetime of warm showers with a guarantee of water that could hold the temperature long enough for someone to really feel clean and Joel doesn’t think he’s ever understood the world of good a shower could do someone until now. 

You had been diligent, worried about taking up the time and heated water from anyone else, but when you stepped out of the bathroom, hair still wet, Joel practically forgot how to look you in the eye. It’s not that the shower changed you completely, though clean and safe is a good look on you, it’s that it made things feel normal. The kind of normal that would take nothing to slip into and turn to habit.

He had practically ducked out of the room when Ellie told him to go ahead since he so clearly needs a shower more than she does. It felt like the beginning of some kind of scheme, but there was nothing he could say with you in the room. So what if Ellie makes a comment or two? That doesn’t mean she knows anything. It’s not like Joel...he doesn’t. He can’t. Not with you. 

As he showers, he thinks of not thinking. Focuses on dislodging those thoughts from his mind. The echo of Bill’s words hold firm as they merge with memories of you. 

What makes a person worth taking care of so completely? Does the worthiness come from kindness or personal attachment or some natural, intrinsic quality? 

It doesn’t matter. No matter how many times he runs through all the potential categories, Joel knows who always fits it. 

“Well, don’t you look pretty.” Ellie’s voice snaps him out of that train of thought. Before Joel can reply, she turns, “Don’t you think so?” 

You blink, Joel briefly debates locking Ellie in some other room until it’s time to go. You take your time glancing over at him. “Yeah.” It’s been too long since things that mattered in the past have come up for him. He isn’t used to being overly aware of his appearance. The strangeness of it is daunting. “Joel’s the prettiest.” 

A cop out enough answer. It’s an easy way to appease Ellie and keep from turning something casual into something weird. Joel mentally scolds himself for being surprised. What else could he have expected? That you’d immediately jump to describe your opinions on his appearance? 

There’s no way that would have been a particularly good thing. He may not be as aware of his appearance as he was before the world changed, but he knows that he’s both older than you and made up of tattered edges more akin to shards than anything else. 

Ellie starts to approach the doorway. “I’m gonna take a shower.” Maybe that will help Joel regain control of whatever ill timed spiral this is. Removing Ellie’s comments and sideways glances definitely won’t make things worse. “For at least 30 minutes.”

It’s said with a deliberate slowness and Joel can feel heat settle in his face. “Just go.”

She holds her hands up in mock defense before turning and finally leaving. Joel frowns at the realization that his mental tension doesn’t immediately vanish with her. 

You turn casually, “That was weird.” 

“She’s a kid,” he mumbles, “Kids are weird.” 

There’s not that much space between the two of you. A casual distance that could be destroyed by a few steps. It’s an impulse that burrows itself deep beneath his skin. Joel straightens to avoid giving into the need to be closer. 

“Yeah.” It’s a breath, casual and flat. Joel finds himself unexplainably grated by the sound. He’s not the kind of person that dwells on others. Especially not in this way. “You know what’d be fun?” 

Joel swallows at the easy transition. You walk past him and towards the wooden table top. He isn’t sure what your goal is until your fingers bend around a neck of a bottle of wine. There’s something particular about the way the corner of your mouth tugs upwards. Mischievous. 

“I-” He clears his throat again. “I’ve gotta drive.” You say nothing, but that touch of an almost pout and the goddamn head tilt. “We need to stay alert.” 

You let out a sigh, turning the bottle in your hand. “You’re going to get out-of-it drunk off of one glass of wine?” 

He can’t afford anything right now. “You might.”

“You’ve never seen me drink.” 

So much indignation. Joel fights against a grin. You’ve spent most of your adult life in a post-outbreak world. There likely hasn’t been much opportunity for you to build your tolerance. And at this point, he feels like he knows you, and nothing about your personality or general being indicates that you’d be able to handle your alcohol. 

Sure, he doesn’t think you’ll genuinely be drunk after one glass, but he also doesn’t believe you’ll stick to that. A light buzz here wouldn’t be the worst thing, but it’d be inefficient. An additional distraction that Joel is doing his best to keep from.

Joel sighs at the accusatory way you raise your eyebrows. “I can still tell.” 

You roll your eyes. “I should go through with it just because you said that.” He watches you set down the bottle.

The lack of protest hits him harder than it should. It was a small thing to ask for and there was such a genuineness in the way you introduced it. You know what’d be fun? Even your defense was framed innocently. You’ve never seen me drink. Like the whole idea was more about the two of you than the actual drinking. Like you’re friends more than you are just friendly. 

Once again, his mind latches back onto the letter. An element he doesn’t need in the air right now. “Y/n.”

“I said we didn’t have t--” Joel grabs the bottle and takes a quick sip before you can finish your sentence. The immediate half-laugh-half-scoff that follows makes it all worth it. “Classy.” 

He does all he can to keep from smiling, but he isn’t sure he’s fully successful. “Always have been.” 

It’s the stupid kind of joke that you and Ellie would have exchanged a look over. You two would have picked it a part, pointing out the evident laziness of it. Instead of that, you laugh again before pushing away from the counter. He’s still as you walk towards him. 

The entire thing is casual until your eyes meet his. Joel’s body instinctually locks into place. It’s a form of defense, of keeping this moment from shattering. Your hand moves forward slowly--or maybe you’re moving normally and everything just feels slow when you’re focusing on him like that--until it finds the bottle. The tip of your fingers brush against the back of his palm. 

For a second, that’s all that exists. All that matters. You squeeze the bottle and Joel lets you take it. “You know it’s hard to measure a single glass without the actual glass.” 

You set the bottle down and turn your attention towards finding any type of cup. Joel keeps quiet as you find the set of long stemmed wine glasses. You set out two of them and fill them each a little less than halfway. A reasonable amount. A controllable amount. 

Turning back to face him, you hand him a glass. 

“One glass.” 

Nodding once, you pick up your own. “One.” Extending your glass with no warning, you quickly clink them together. A soft cheers. 

----

About three glasses later. 

“...That doesn’t,” laughter, “make--make sense.” 

There’s no slurring, but the small giggles pressed sporadically throughout the single sentence cues Joel in on something he should have taken into consideration about two glasses ago. You’re tipsy. Not drunk or fully out of it, but buzzed in some sense of the word. Buzzed enough to not even pretend to follow on his comment that hadn’t really meant anything. 

Joel sighs, forcing a bit of annoyance into the sound. “Maybe not to you.” 

You pout without reservation. “That’s rude.” 

Reaching around him without any tact, you try to find the bottle. “That’s enough.” 

Joel can deal with how you are now, but any further could be risky. It’s not like the three of you are settling in this house. His hand finds its way to your wrist as you try to squirm back. It takes you less than a minute to still. Joel doesn’t pull away. A second longer. Just to be sure. 

He returns your hand to his side gently, easing you back into place by your wrist. “I’m not drunk.” 

There’s no argument in your voice, no protest or anything that gives any indication of your flat observation. The certainty in your voice settles against Joel’s skin like a second layer. It doesn’t feel like it’s coming from the same person that just couldn’t get through a sentence without being interrupted by a fit of laughter. 

Joel’s chin tilts downwards in a barely there nod that he trusts you to pick up on. “Never said you were.” The realization that he hasn’t let you go yet hits him with no warning. His pointer finger and thumb are still grasping your wrist. It’d be so easy to turn over your hand and let your palms meet. “We should keep it that way.” 

“I trust you.” You breath out the words reluctantly, like you’re annoyed by the truth of it. The casualness of your voice has to prove that you don’t mean anything by it. Smiling almost, you breeze past what you just said. “This is fun. I haven’t gotten wine buzzed sin--” The cut off is jarring, but Joel knows better than to push. “Awhile. Since Ruth.” 

A name that has only ever slipped out from time to time. Joel’s picked up on enough pieces to know that it’s sore subject. “You don’t have to.” 

“I know.” Your eyes feel distant, you’re going somewhere else now. “Ruth was like a grandmother to me. Sweetest old lady, tough as nails, too.” You laugh again, the sound sharply bittersweet. “She didn’t like being handled or taken care of, but she was getting a little older and she--she was developing some kind of early memory issue. One day we got into this warehouse and it was full of wine. So we drank and then...” Eyes practically glazing over, you angle your chin downwards. You wipe at your face with the back of your palm. “I don’t know how I didn’t know. She had been talking about not wanting to live in a world where she couldn’t remember her children or-or take care of herself, and she’d been struggling a little more.” Joel swallows once as you pause. “She waited until I fell asleep. Left a note saying she’d never be a burden.”  

Joel relaxes the fingers wrapped around your wrist and turns his palm outwards. You meet him half way, interlocking your fingers with his. It surprises him more than it should. 

There haven’t been many times in which Joel actively reflected and wished that he could be different in some way. It’s his ability to remain detached and distant from emotions that have allowed him to last. But if he were some other version of himself, he’d be able to say something insightful or sympathetic or maybe even kind. 

But he’s not, so after the second, the only thing he can manage to say is, “Sounds like the kind of person you’d care about.” 

It feels like a wrong reaction, and maybe it would have been for someone else, but you give no indication of being upset. You let out a sad kind of laugh. “You know, now that you mention it you do kind of fill the grumpy, old lady void in my life.” 

The implication of your joke should sting more than it does considering the mess of his train of thought today, but it tugs at something in him instead. “Funny.” 

“Just like Ruth would have said.” 

He sighs, too aware that his expression doesn’t project the right kind of annoyance. You’re smiling again, though, like you’re pressing your lips together to keep from laughing. It’s a reset, knowing that you’re feeling better and that in some way it’s because of him. 

It clicks then. Settles like the world after a storm. Joel understands. It’d be easy to build a life out of protecting someone. He sees how it’s the kind of purpose that can burn away the frayed edges of someone that seems to be made of them. 

“Y/n.” His throat feels dryer than he remembers it being. There’s an uncertainty in where to go next, but you feel the shift the same way he does. Joel sees it in the soft nod of your head. “Y’know what Bill said in his letter?” His eyes flit away from you, “’About purpose and...” 

You were exploring the home when Ellie read the letter, but you had picked it up and read about half of it before Joel took it back. It was a bit petty, but you didn’t press. It’s his business more than yours.

What you had read had gotten to you and you didn’t even know Bill and Frank. It must have Joel, even if he refuses to let it be obvious. “I know it must have been hard to hear, but it--what I did read sounded like a better way to live than most did even before.” The response fits you. Of course you’d see it. “Sorry, that was--that was probably overstepping. They were your...” You hesitate, unsure if friend or associate would be more fitting. “You knew them and--” 

“No,” he breathes, “You’re right.” Joel takes a moment to just look at you, to take in what it feels like to be standing somewhere safe, holding your hand. “It does sound like a good way to be.”

Joel doesn’t know what to take from your reaction. The way your eyes widen just enough to be noticeable. You didn’t expect that level of candor from him, especially not about something so close to feel-y. “You think it’s unrealistic?” 

Your question comes out almost hesitant. It’s the kind of thing you would have never asked if it hadn’t been for the wine. The way you clamp your mouth shut after speaking is evidence enough. 

There’s so much he could say to that, but nothing feels like it’d fit. “Not for you.” 

You smile again but it doesn’t reach your eyes. “It isn’t for you, either.” Eyes briefly dropping, you tact on an almost shy, “If you wanted it. I know you’re...” Tilting your head in that one way that always gets under his skin, you settle on, “Most comfortable with what you know.”

Joel presses his lips together before correcting his expression into something more neutral. The sensation that he’s teetering on something twists at the air in his lungs. “You sayin’ I’m set in my ways?” 

Your amusement feels genuine again, free from whatever had been eroding at it before. His words are another step forward, an attempt at meeting you in the middle. “It’s not a bad thing.” When Joel raises his eyebrows, you let out a sigh. “You’ve said worse about me.”

He fights down a grin. “Doesn’t sound like me.” 

“Yeah, you’re a damn sweetheart.”

This time Joel lets himself react in the form of what’s almost a laugh. “That’s more like it.” Your eyes soften and there’s a warmth there that Joel doesn’t know how to hold onto. It melts at a part of him he didn’t think existed. It’s dangerous, more risky than the wine. “Do you think you’d--you want that?” 

You blink and Joel can find no way to blame you for your hesitance. The question was blurted out so haphazardly, so unlike what it is and now it’s looming over the both of you. 

Your mind is racing in a way you can’t justify. It’s not the question, but the way it came out of Joel, coated in a layer of hesitance that practically felt nervous in a way that doesn’t suit him. “Yeah.” The single syllable is so low it almost feels like a secret. “I--I think I do.” It’s surprising to you. “You said it yourself--it’s a good way to be. I’m sure for some people, it’d even be peaceful.” 

Joel’s jaw briefly locks at that last part. “And if it’s someone that can’t give you that last part?” 

The hollowness of the question startles you out of your initial reaction. The words alone would have been fine if they felt less raw. Your mind can’t wrap around them this way. “I uh--I’d probably be the unpeaceful one.” You don’t think you can describe it in a way that anyone would understand. “Caring about anyone that openly and trusting them to do the same...I don’t think I’d be a natural at that.” 

You don’t want to dwell on your words or the honesty of them, so you move on the only way you can think to: “What about you?” 

He should have known that you’d ask. He should have thought through some kind of response that wouldn’t leave him exposed. Then again, maybe that was the point of leading you here. Bill and Frank were here one day and now they’re not. 

“Y/n...” You’re silent, waiting patiently for the end of his sentence. There’s so much to say that none of it can come out. It traps itself in his throat. Too much about the day he first met you, the first time he heard you laugh, the first night when Ellie fell asleep with her head on your shoulder, the fact that knowing you’re okay could fix practically anything. “I don’t know why I’m still here and I’m not too sure Bill was right about me, but I...” The words jam in on themselves and Joel takes it as an opportunity to drag his thumbs across your knuckles like this might be his last chance to do so. “I think you might be part of it.”

The lack of immediate response twists at his stomach. Joel moves to take his hand back and at the last second you snap back into reality. You squeeze his hand, pulling him back towards you. “Joel...” You’re watching him so intently Joel needs to do something. He steps forward. “Are you--are you saying--” 

Sometimes action comes more naturally than words. Joel knows that, knows the familiarity of jumping into something when there’s nothing left. He moves his hand up your arm and settles it on your shoulder. His other hand brushes against your cheek. He pauses long enough to give you a chance to protest. You don’t. 

Closing the distance between you is a snap of everything into place. He can’t remember the last time something felt so natural. You melt into him, fitting into place like you’ve always been there. 

You’re warm enough to melt through all of his reservations. Joel places a hand on your side, pulling you even closer. It could be an eternity or it could only be a few seconds. You start pulling back first, Joel chases after you, grazing his teeth against your bottom lip.

You move back only enough to breathe, but you can’t bring yourself to let go of him. “Joel.” You want to tell him you get it now and that you agree. That you’d come back to this again and again. That he’s your purpose. “It’s you.” 

It’s the only thing you can say, but that’s okay. You trust him to understand.

----

Taglist: @ciniluv

“what follows” is so good!!! the internal dialogue and the build up is so well done i love the way you write joel!! please tell me you’re willing to write more parts

ahh thank you!! it always takes a moment to get in the groove of a new character's voice,, especially someone with such complex feelings

there will be a part 2 for sure,,

as for multiple other parts plural, i could see expanding it into a mini-series that's mainly just small moments that define the relationship between reader and joel, like just finding some domesticity during the end of the world, but i'm not sure yet