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[jomiddlemarch]

Reconnecting

(something I’m working on)

[jomiddlemarch]

APRIL SHOWERS MASTERLIST

here is the masterlist for the april showers challenge. currently this is still open, so please feel free to enter until the 30th APRIL!

AN: I WILL UPDATE EVERY FEW DAYS WITH NEW FICS. PLS CHECK WARNINGS ON INDIVIDUAL WORKS.

the fishing trip by @bluestar22x [frankie m x reader]

starstruck heights drabble: carpinteria by @yxtkiwiyxt [joel x reader]

monsoon by @sawymredfox [din x reader]

caught in the rain by @burntheedges [marcus p x reader]

marcus rainy moodboard by @secretelephanttattoo

just breathe by @mermaidgirl30 [joel x reader]

heavy rain by @lunitawrites [joel x reader]

coup de foudre by @ladamedusoif [lucien x reader]

weathered in by @rhoorl [frankie x reader]

don’t let yourself go by @survivingandenduring [joel]

the stranger by @punkshort [dave x reader]

fools in the rain (nebble files story) by @inept-the-magnificent [tim x jane nebbles]

911 by @milla-frenchy [joel x reader]

intermezzo by @maggiemayhemnj [joel/jersey + ellie]

midnight rainstorms by @thundermartini

when it rains by @bitchesuntitled

happenstance by @sawymredfox [joel x reader]

when the rain washes you clean, you’ll know by @thelightsandtheroses [javi p x reader]

with you I fall down by @joelsgreenflannel [javi p x reader]

like real people do by @mrsmando [joel m x reader]

right person wrong time by @mountainsandmayhem [joel x reader]

silver by @morallyinept [ezra x reader]

island rain by @javipispunk [frankie x reader]

july by @psychedelic-ink [joel x reader x tess]

sugar drop by @604to647 [pero x reader]

rain confessions by @toomanystoriessolittletime [joel x reader]

what he wants to be… by @theweedisasterxoxo [joel x reader]

angel in disguise by @nerdieforpedro [javi p x reader]

thunderstruck by @thetriumphantpanda [marcus p x reader]

come with me and escape by @jomiddlemarch [joel x ofc!grace]

into you by @toomanystoriessolittletime [dieter x reader]

[jomiddlemarch]

Come with me and escape

“…If you like piña coladas,/ And getting’ caught in the rain,” Joel half-sang, half-muttered as they trudged through the woods, getting steadily wetter with every mile. Joel’s boots were better than Grace’s, so he wasn’t already dealing with wool socks going from damp to soaking, but he didn’t have a hood. His greying hair was nearly black, plastered to his forehead and neck. 

It was about thirty-five degrees, just warm enough to have the rain stay a miserable, cold torture, instead of a transient winter wonderland of drifting snowflakes dusting his shoulders. Landing on the tip of her tongue, the clean water sweeter than sugar.

Yeah, Grace could do with a freaking piña colada or really, just the rum. Like a full pitcher of rum. Maybe heated with a poker. 

Maybe poured straight down her throat.

“You like getting caught in the rain?” she asked. There had been a time, within recent memory, when this had seemed like not just a good idea but a nice one. A scouting salvage trip in an area that had a low risk of clickers, the destination an abandoned cabin that had been established as a Jackson safehouse after its owners took refuge in the commune. It had seemed like it could be romantic, good for their relationship, which wasn’t exactly falling apart but let’s face it, raising a teenager together wouldn’t have been easy Before, when there were family therapists, ample supplies of coffee and ibuprofen, and her best friend Lauren and Lauren’s complete collection of The Thin Man DVDs, to provide the ideal variations of respite. Now, when Joel had his past to deal with and Grace had hers, Ellie had a mouth on her like a bear-trap, and they lived in a two bedroom house with one bathroom and mediocre water pressure, making something more than a series of hook-ups and hang-outs sometimes seemed impossible, even when she factored in Joel’s dark eyes and his hands strumming his guitar. And what it felt like to open the door for him and have him walk in, whether it was the clinic or the canteen or the bedroom with the overly rustic bedframe.

(Seriously, the original inhabitants of Jackson had never met a log they didn’t fashion into a piece of clunky furniture. Sometimes, Grace actually felt a physical longing for her college futon.)

This trip had seemed like a good idea and it might have kept on seeming that way until the clouds had seized up on the horizon and turned a livid shade that meant an icy rain and plenty of it. She’d tried to ask the question without sounding snarky and had only ended up just this side of phony naiveté. For a women well north of forty who’d survived FEDRA, there was no innocence left, let alone naiveté.

“Fuck no, I don’t like getting’ caught in the rain,” Joel said. “I wasn’t real fond of long walks in the rain or long walks on the beach or any of that personal ad shit back in the day.”

“You read personal ads?” Grace said. Sports page, police blotter, hell, she could even envision Joel thumbing through the real estate section of the Sunday paper, but the idea that he’d read personals was a surprise.

“Yeah,” he said.

Grace took another step and felt the squelch within her boot. She’d be lucky not to get frostbite or trench foot before they got to the cabin. She frowned and Joel noticed.

“I didn’t answer any of ‘em, in case you’re wonderin’ that,” he said. “Tommy nagged me for a while, when Sarah was about eight, said I needed to get off my ass and get laid. And that if I hadn’t found anyone willin’ in the PTA already, I wasn’t likely to. But it felt fake and anyway, I was busy working.”

Grace took a particularly graceless step and wobbled a little. Joel reached out and took hold her her elbow, steadying her without altering his own gait. There’d been nothing grabby about his hand, despite the suddenness of the gesture, and it felt both comforting and erotic, his warmth and strength at her disposal, guiding her.

“Guy like you would never need a personal ad. If you wanted someone, you would’ve had her just like that,” she said, attempting to snap her fingers.

Joel smiled.

“Just like that, huh? Just like right now?” he said.

“I mean, talk to me once we’re inside the cabin and you’ve managed to light a fire that doesn’t fill the place with smoke,” she said.

A drop of rain rolled down her nose.

“I feel like a drowned rat,” she said, grimacing. 

“I’ve seen you look worse,” he said.

She glared at him as much as she could with the rain spitting into her face and Joel grinning back at her.

“I take it back. Seven out of ten women would’ve walked out of the bar and left you high and dry. They’d say your ad was a scam and you were a jackass,” she said.

“High I can’t manage, but dry sounds good, Gracie,” he replied. He squinted, which should have been unattractive but wasn’t (unfair! her inner monologue complained and dead-Lauren rolled her eyes), and pointed. “Cabin’s another five-ten minutes west. I’ll make you a fire and we’ll settle in for the night. Brought some of Ted’s goulash, you won’t have to get by with crackers and canned peaches.”

“Fine. I revise my estimate. Six out of ten, unless you met them after you played a set. Then only one walks,” Grace said.

“That one you?” he said. He was teasing but she heard the uncertainty underneath. Joel wasn’t used to being loved by a woman. What he and Tess had had together was something else, and he’d hardly ever spoken of Sarah’s mother. Ellie’s affection he could accept and even Tommy and Maria’s, but he didn’t trust Grace wanted him all the time, all the ways.

“No. If you played ‘Walkin’ After Midnight,’ I would’ve said let’s skip the drinks and go home,” she said. 

“Woulda been your place,” Joel said. “I didn’t bring home strange women where Sarah might see ‘em.”

“Good. I’d have liked being a strange woman for a while,” Grace said. They were finally at the cabin. She let Joel handle unlocking the door and focused on getting in and getting her boots and wet socks off. Once she was barefoot, she couldn’t exactly sigh in relief, because the cabin was frigid and her hair was damp, Joel cursing softly while he laid the fire, but she made a sound of quasi-contentment and sat down on the old sofa to root around in her pack for fresh socks.

They were bound to be all the way at the bottom.

“What a fucking miserable night,” Joel said, the wood having caught, the firelight painting his face with gold, his wet hair still black. The rain had turned heavier and the wind started blowing it against the windows.

“It’s okay. Now we’re inside,” she said, pulling on mismatched striped socks that reached her knees. Joel glanced at them and laughed.

“You’re leanin’ into the strange woman thing, yeah?” he said.

“Ellie raided my sock drawer. I didn’t take laundry day into account. Beggars can’t be choosers,” Grace said. “Once it warms up in here, I can take them off—”

“Don’t. Leave ‘em on,” Joel said. “Once it warms up in here, I’ll take off everything else.”

Perhaps, under certain very specific circumstances, which did not require Ted’s goulash, Joel did like getting caught in the rain. That was all Grace could surmise a few hours later, eating the last of the goulash while Joel lay back against the headboard, his bare chest against her back, his hand keeping the bowl steady on her lap.

He was humming the song and she could hear the smile on his face, a clear bright note against the counterpoint of the still falling rain.

Tagging @tessa-quayle because she's my number one Grace Yang fan.

[jomiddlemarch]

[jomiddlemarch]

And...my keynote address is delivered!

What a relief. I feel like the human incarnation of a glass of Chardonnay (though am having a beer, because it's what we had in the fridge.)

[jomiddlemarch]

[jomiddlemarch]

x

[jomiddlemarch]

Miss Congeniality (2000) dir. Donald Petrie

[jomiddlemarch]

Miniature English Bedchamber of the Jacobean or Stuart Era, 1603-1688

Narcissa Niblack Thorne & Unknown Artisans

c.1937

Art Institute of Chicago (Reference Number: 1941.1187)

[jomiddlemarch]

Miniature English Jacobean Hall, 1603-1649

Narcissa Niblack Thorne & Unknown Artisans

1932-1937

Phoenix Art Museum (Object Number: 1962.79.1)

[jomiddlemarch]

@nervousladytraveler Thank you for tagging me!

Rain TLOU (this is nearly done, probably needs a look-through for final edits)

Fuji AU (this might be done? I have to wait and see if it feel really done-done)

Gilbert grief

Comfort cottagecore nonsense (see Fuji AU, this might also be done-done, but I'm not 100% sure and it's a sort of meandering fic)

The Magic Mountain

Triptych (this is a much older fic that I might actually return to since Dune 2 came out and it's getting new readers...)

Tagging @asteraceae-blue @orlissa @vesperass-anuna @aquitainequeen @oldshrewsburyian @tortoisesshells

WIP Title Ask Game

RULES: make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

Shadows of Love

The Alibi

A Simple Matter of Truth

Old Mother Hubbard* (working title of chapter for Duty)

The first two are old fics that I haven't touched in years but have every intention of finishing (because I just don't let things go).

I was tagged by @dreamstone28737 😘 — thank you , my dear! And I’ll send this over to the fabulous @jomiddlemarch if they'd like to play!

[jomiddlemarch]

Miniature English Great Room of the Late Tudor Period, 1550-1603

Narcissa Niblack Thorne & Unknown Artisans

c.1937

Art Institute of Chicago (Reference Number: 1941.1186)

[jomiddlemarch]

Harrison Ford hating playing Han Solo made him better at playing Han Solo because Han Solo did not want to be there doing those things either.

[jomiddlemarch]

Happy Pesach wherever you are and however you sat it! Our unique cultural traditions are beautiful and worth celebrating!

[jomiddlemarch]

[jomiddlemarch]