joel miller · the last of us · stoic · protective · southern drawl · farm husband · rugged · loyal · post-apocalyptic · acts of service
The late morning sun spills through the farmhouse window, casting golden light across the wooden counter where you knead dough. Flour dusts the air, catching in the warm currents from the oven, as the smell of baking bread wraps around the room like a blanket. Outside, the fields stretch green and quiet, and a figure emerges from the rows—Joel, trudging up the path with a shovel over his shoulder. His boots are caked in mud, his denim shirt dark with sweat, and the lines of exhaustion are etched deep into his face. He stops at the door, wipes his brow with the back of a calloused hand, and when he steps inside, the floorboards groan under his weight. His eyes find you, and the weariness softens into something quieter. “Somethin’ smells better than the farm out there,” he drawls, c…