#girldad moments. whatever

[tracfone]

Happy father’s day to chell portalgun, who must bear the responsibility of the actual “nurturing” part of taking care of 5 kids

[w2sology]

morning scrunches, harry lewis.

summary: mornings with harry and baby bog

warnings: girldad!harry, cuteness overload!!!

waking up besides harry had quickly become one of your favourite things ever since the two of you began dating. his face being the first that you saw everyday was just so refreshing and bought you so much comfort.

today was no different, your hand naturally coming up to caress the side of your boyfriend's face as he slept peacefully. before you'd gone to bed, your head was on harry's chest but now, it seems the roles had reversed and harry's head was now on your chest, his arms wrapped securely around your body.

turning to the bedside table on your side, you checked the baby monitor, seeing your baby girl was still asleep.

using that as an excuse for a couple more minutes of cuddles, you inched closer to harry, feeling him readjust his head on your chest.

a few moments after, you heard harry groan, waking himself up after a good night's sleep. and like he did every morning, he searched for you, smiling through tired eyes once he found your beautiful face.

"morning, love," he rasped, kissing your cheek.

"morning, babe."

now that harry was up, you checked the baby monitor again, seeing your little sleeping beauty was wide awake, just feeling rather quiet this morning.

"d'you want me to go get her?" harry asked.

"no, it's alright, i'll get her."

the two of you often took it in turns to do the morning shifts, as you called them. one of you would tend to your baby and settle her down or get her ready for the day, whilst the other got to breakfast and making sure the rest of you were ready for the day.

walking to the nursery, you outwardly awed at the sight of your little bundle of joy, picking her out of her cot. the newborn scrunch was something you absolutely adored and would definitely miss as she got older.

"hello, my precious girl!" you cooed as she smiled a gummy smile, reaching for your face as you held her near you. "let's go say morning to daddy, hm?"

the first time you say harry interact with your daughter, you almost gave him another. he was such a natural with babies, people were surprised to find out he head a mild feat of them.

walking back to your bedroom, you saw harry had moved positions, his body now sat up against the headboard as the sheets rested around his waist, exposing his naked upper body.

he put his phone down as soon as he saw you and your daughter walk into the room, smiling so hard his cheeks were starting to hurt.

"look who's awake," he gushed as you handed her over to him, sitting right besides him. resting your chin on harry's shoulder, you watched how he interacted with your daughter, your heart swelling at the sight.

he kissed both her cheeks, watching as she squirmed and smiled at her dad's touch, her small hand holding his finger, grasping so tight as if it was all she knew.

"i'm gonna get started on breakfast," you spoke softly to harry, leaving as he nodded and kissed your forehead.

it was actually his turn to make breakfast, but seeing how occupied he was with your little girl, you were sure you could manage another day of making breakfast.

meanwhile, harry spent that time talking to baby girl about everything and nothing, things he did with her uncles lately, how big olive was getting and the playdates that they'd be able to have soon, things he'd seen that reminded him of her mother, how beautiful her mother was... literally rambling to an 8 week old about whatever came to his mind.

"did you know i actually wanted to call you bog? yeah, your mum put a straight end to that dream. you'll still be mini bog to me though," you heard as you came back into the room, laughing to yourself at the almost name of your baby girl.

"breakfast's ready," you mumbled against harry's skin as you kissed his cheek, giving your daughter one too. "oh look, you changed her! she's so adorable, i might cry."

"oh, please don't, you'll set her off again." harry rolled his eyes as you nudged him.

the next few moments were filled with a comfortable silence as your baby glanced between her parents, a serene look on her face.

"can you believe we made her?" you sighed.

"i can believe it, yes, because that's what happens when two people───"

"harry! gosh, i'm trying to be sentimental here." you groaned at his inability to be serious.

he laughed in response to your reaction, wrapping an arm around your shoulder as his other arm was being used to hold the tiny human. "i'm joking, i promise. but i get what you mean. like we're actually parents."

"still feels unreal."

"mhm. but," he said, facing you. "i wouldn't change it for the world."

humming at his words, you placed a sweet kiss on his lips, a hand on his cheek as you stared at him lovingly. "me neither."

[writinghotchner]

Wait I love girldad!hotch so much. Hotch x Reader where they have a baby girl? Since it's christmas maybe a cute family xmas moment with them and Jack?

god, i love girldad!hotch too 😭

fandom: criminal minds pairing: hotch x fem!reader rating: e warnings: none

this isnt as christmassy as i really wanted but this is where the story took me?? 🤷‍♀️ anyway, i hope you enjoy it! <3

it was relatively late when you finally dragged your tired feet through the front door of your home. later than you usually get home, anyway. 7 pm isn't usually late for most people, but you're usually home by 4, 4:30 at at the latest. a holiday party fiasco kept you later than normal and you could've snuck away sooner if it hadn't of been for your boss stalking and lurking his way through the building.

as you step inside and kick off you heels, you're immediately hit with two things. 1. something smells so good and, 2. your daughter has once again been possessed by the loudest screamiest demon to ever travel the dark realms.

you quickly shrug off your coat and drop your bag off at the door and make your way to the smells and noises. you travel down the small hallway, taking in the christmas decorations that adorn the walls, you trail by the big beautiful christmas tree thats fully lit and standing so tall in the living room, and then you finally round your way into kitchen where you see your husband with your nine month old daughter strapped to his chest, the carrier straps crisscrossed along his back giving it away. he's bouncing her as he speaks while stirring whatever it is he's making on the stove. you lean against the door frame with a smile listening to the cuteness in front of you.

your daughter's screaming has calmed down now, it's now just a hiccupping cry accompanied by little sniffles here and there. you see hotch use his spare hand to bring it up to cup the back of the little girls head.

"i know, baby, i miss her too, but she'll be home and we'll both be so happy, huh?" he steps away from the stove and starts swaying her, his hand never leaving the back of her head. he turns a little giving you access to her little face and you can then see her big beautiful brown eyes staring up at him and the worlds biggest frown on her face. even from this distance you can see her face is red from screaming and she still has globs of tears threatening to leave her eyes at any given moment.

"i'll put on a wig and one of mommy's shirts if it'll make you feel better," he says in his baby-talk voice. "i'll do whatever you want if you'll just stop giving me those big sad eyes."

you can't help but to chuckle at that. you step more into the kitchen to rest your elbows against the island counter directly behind him.

"what's goin' on in here?" you finally say and hotch spins around, his face cracking open with a smile.

"hey!" he laughs through his smile, "when did you get home?"

"just now." you tell him. you stand behind him and pop up on your toes to peer over his broad shoulder at your baby girl. she's nearly stopped crying at this point but the second her eyes land on you and she realizes who you are, she full on screams, the tears sitting in her eyes now free falling down her cheeks. her face scrunches up so much you wonder how it's even possible.

"oh, baby," you coo, moving to stand next to your husband as he helps you pull her out of the carrier. "what's the matter, huh? stuck at home with daddy all day got you the blues?"

hotch turns to glare at you for that. "we had a good time." he says turning back to the stove. "you know, until she started screaming at me."

you hold her close to your chest, your lips resting on the top of her soft head. she almost immediately calms, save for a few shuttering breaths. you sway her slowly, giving her a little squeeze of comfort.

"where's jack?" you ask, turning to look back into the living room to see if he was in there watching tv.

"he's probably in his room getting ready."

you blink a couple of times, your eyes drifting up to think about why jack would be getting ready to go somewhere. and then it hits you.

"oh, no, dave's is tonight?" you questioned, checking the time on the on the stove. dave had invited the entire bau gang + family to his house for christmas eve dinner, it had been in your planner since thanksgiving.

hotch turns to look at you. "yeah. is that a problem? we can cancel if-"

"no! no, it's okay. i just forgot. it's been a long tiring day." you sigh, a little mad at yourself for forgetting.

hotch opens the oven door and takes out a batch of what looks like sugar cookies. he uses his foot to close the door behind him as he sets the cookie tray down, and then he shuffles his socked feet over to you, quickly enveloping you and your daughter in a hug. he smiles at you lovingly before he kisses your lips and then kisses his daughter's head.

"i can take the kids if you want to stay here."

you shift the now sleeping baby to your left arm and use your right arm to pull him closer to you, reconnecting your lips.

"that's sweet. but i don't mind going, really. my social battery might be a little on the dead side, though." you kiss him again with a hum, chuckling softly when you taste the sugar cookies on his lips.

he smiles against you. "okay," he says, taking the baby out of your arms. "i'll take her, you go check on jack and then go get ready. everything in here is nearly done, and then all i have to do is get changed and put her in her christmas onesie." the little girl whines a little as shes moved but doesn't make much of an effort to wake up or cry. he sits her back in her carrier, her head lulling to his chest, her little lips smacking as she settles into him. you nearly cry at the sweetness of it all. especially the thought of the littlest hotchner in her green christmas tree onesie that penelope had gotten her before she was even born.

"she's fine, honey, get outta here." and with that, he lightly snaps a hand towel across your butt grinning.

you laugh and turn to leave the kitchen but not without throwing "keep that up, hotchner, and we won't leave this house," over your shoulder. and then you're gone.

"oooh, mommy's being mean to daddy, little one." hotch stage whispers. she doesn't move or even open her eyes. "oh, i see how it is. take her side, huh?"

[muppetallica]

Peepaw Afton thoughts #4

Imagine William being an incredible girldad. We all know Elizabeth was his world, his baby girl. He would do anything for his baby girl, whatever he could to make her happy.

Any daughter William had (whether you want to imagine Elizabeth or Vanessa) would be spoiled. William would absolutely let them climb him like a jungle gym. Whatever his baby girl wanted, she got. Even if that meant putting his hair into absurd styles and painting his nails. He would do it with a smile if it gave his daughter a moment of happiness.

Just take a moment to imagine how adorable the sight would be. William, his hair divided into umpteen different small braids, pink nail polish smeared sloppily around his roughed-up hands, complete with a little girl hugging his leg, giggling madly as he walks. Could life get any better than that?

[gasolinerainbowpuddles]

𝙲𝚑𝚛𝚢𝚜𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚖 · · · · 𝙸𝚅. 𝙽𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 ║ ⓒⓗⓐⓟⓣⓔⓡⓔⓓ

𝙲𝚑𝚛𝚢𝚜𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚖 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 || 𝚗 𝚊 𝚟 𝚒 𝚐 𝚊 𝚝 𝚒 𝚘 𝚗 || 𝚏𝚒𝚌 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 | PAIRING(s): Joel Miller x fem!OC/reader

| RATING: explicit material | 18+ | CHAPTER CONTENT: POV switching, flirting, fluff, angst, pining, soft!Joel, protective!Joel, girldad!Joel, tipsy!Joel, heteronormative bullshit, inherent power imbalance due to boss/employee dynamic, Sad During the Holidays™, financial/mental/emotional/physical abuse, high functioning alcoholism | WORD COUNT: 9k

| CHAPTER SUMMARY: The more settled you get into your new job, the more your home life frays at the edges. When Joel asks you for a favor, you both struggle to keep from crossing the line between professional and personal.

“Blue Plate Diner?” you read aloud. The flickering bulbs of the neon blue sign added to the Mom & Pop charm of the breakfast place Joel had picked.

“It’s good, I swear. Just give it a chance and you’ll love it,” he promises.

You’re craving the proximity of last night on the bench together passing out candy, so you choose a booth when the waitress asks if you have a preference. Joel picks up a menu and hands it to you, and you take the opportunity to scoot closer to him when he grabs one of his own.

“So what do you normally like for breakfast?” he asks.

“Um, I dunno. Just whatever is around, I guess.”

“What sorta answer is that? You don’t have a favorite breakfast food?”

“I dunno. Do you?” You glance over to see what he’s considering on the menu, only to find he’s ignoring it completely and has his eyes set on you.

“Yeah, I got some classics on deck, but I wanna make sure you get somethin’ you like.”

“Well what’s the fan favorite?” You take a look around at the other patrons and find not a single one of them looks to be under 70 years old. “Other than maybe applesauce and prune juice,” you add.

“Very funny,” Joel laughs under his breath. “You’ll be old one day, too, you know.”

“Yeah, but you’ll get there first, so you can tell me all about it so I can be prepared,” you shoot back with a devilish smirk.

“Anyone ever tell you you’re nothin’ but trouble?” he teases with a full body bump to your side.

You quickly look back down to the menu and wonder what he would say if you told him that yes you had in fact been told many times in many different ways that you were nothing but trouble – except not in the fun, lighthearted way that he’d just said it. 

“Yeah, but I’ve heard worse,” you settle on.

When he seems to be sizing up your response, you give him a full body nudge of your own, which draws a soft chuckle from him. “So,” you say brightly. “What do you recommend since we don’t have to worry about our dentures popping out?”

He rests his arm along the back of the booth behind you and pins you with a put on stern expression. “Speak for yourself,” he huffs. He’s so broad and open sitting next to you like this. You could curl right into his side and fit so snug and perfect, you just know it. Somehow you just know it’d feel like his body was meant to curve around yours.

You giggle and turn to him, your hand finding it’s way to his lips before you can really register what the fuck you’re even doing. He stills, eyelids falling half-lidded for a moment as he watches you, and leans into your touch. The scruff of his beard is coarse and scratchy. You wonder what it would feel like against your neck, your lips, in between your legs. You tap his front teeth when his mouth opens into a smile. “Your denture guy does some real good work. Can’t even tell they’re fake,” you mock observe.

You want to touch his dimple so, so bad. It’s right there. Would he let you? Would it be weird? He still hasn’t moved, just sitting there letting you touch and poke and prod as you please. Your hand gently curves against his jawline, and your fingertip grazes against his dimple. “Is this your real hair or do you have a wig guy, too?” You meant for it to come out as a playful jab, but instead it was a breathy sort of question that betrayed the farce of innocent levity.

“I’m gatekeeping my wig guy, sorry,” he teases. “I’ll give you my denture guy’s contact if you want it, though.”

“Should I come back?” the waitress asks no one in particular.

You and Joel both missed her return to your table. Gravity feels stronger with how quickly your hand drops from his face. You situate yourself forward again to face the server. Joel still keeps his hand along your back where it rests on the booth. “You need a minute?” he asks you softly. There’s a hint of a smile in his voice even though it hasn’t emerged onto his face quite yet.

You know he means do you need more time to look at the menu, but all your brain can recognize as needing a moment to process is the insanely flirtatious banter that’s definitely crossed over into inappropriately touching your boss territory. “Um, can you just order for us both?”

“I got you,” he assures you with a smile. Your tummy flips because again there’s so much more to his words than their surface value. He does have you. He has you in ways you haven’t even begun to openly admit to yourself despite feeling it. 

He has you in the way that he’s always been on your side since you first met. Taking up for you when Jeremy was being an asshole. Recognizing and having faith in your abilities to do a job you have zero experience for. Driving you to and from work every day so you had safe, reliable transportation. Calling to check in on you whenever he wasn’t in the office. Texting you on the weekends. Taking the time and the effort to explain things to you until you got the hang of it and never making you feel dumb about it no matter how many times or how long it took. Letting you come over to his house when you said you were alone at your own. And even the little things that might not matter to most people – getting the door for you, making sure the temperature in the car was comfortable, asking if the music playing was okay or if you wanted to change it.

Joel takes care of you in so many ways that on their own might seem insignificant or standard but all add up to one overwhelming sense of being looked after. 

He orders for you both – a monte cristo sandwich and chicken and waffles - and you settle into easy conversation again. You’ve never tried either dish, and you soak in the eager way Joel explains them to you in detail and what he thinks you might like about them. You end up preferring the raspberry jam to dip the sandwich into over the strawberry jam that Joel liked better. The chicken and waffles are absolute perfection, and Joel is nice enough to let you have the last bite.

Your stomach was uncomfortable with fullness, but you’d have to wait until you were alone in the office to unbutton your jeans for more room. You lean back with a heavy sigh against the booth and mindlessly snuggle against Joel’s arm there. You don’t remember when he put it back after the food had come.

“Not a breakfast person, huh?” The curve of a self-satisfied grin slips onto his mouth.

“Did I eat too much?” You feel self-conscious now. Maybe he’d meant to save some of it for later? You didn’t realize how hungry you actually were. It occurs to you that you didn’t eat dinner last night. You sometimes forgot to eat if you weren’t preparing a meal for your dad.

“Oh quit it,” he gently chides. “You know damn well I’m over the moon that you liked the food. I was nervous I’d oversold it to you.”

You relax again knowing that he wasn’t upset with you for helping eat the plates clean. “You always pick good stuff. I knew whatever you picked was gonna be good.”

His entire face beams with a deliriously pleased grin. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you breathe a little laugh.

He turns his head from you to look out the front of the diner, and you swear the tips of his ears are pinking just like the apples of his cheeks.

“So, can I ask a favor now that I got you all comatose with sugar?” he lobs at you and makes eye contact again.

“Ask away, Sugar Booger,” you giggle, feeling a little giddy and high off the carb and glucose laden foods. And maybe making him blush. And possibly also the prolonged proximity to him.

“Oh wow. No more syrup for you,” he jokes. “You sure you’re of sound mind? Don’t want you claimin’ an altered state later on and try to get outta it.”

“Is the favor that bad?”

Joel winces at the unintentional negative setup he’d created for his impending request. “No, I mean, it’s not– No, it’s not that bad. More just like I’m not the best with those sorts of things and could use some guidance.”

Your eyebrows lift in curiosity, and you wait for him to continue.

“So, there’s a guy on our crew – you’ve met him, I think? Paul?– and he’s been with us for 10 years this December. So me ‘n Tommy wanted to do a sort of, not like a party, but more of like a sit down dinner sort of thing? And invite all the employees to come celebrate.”

You stare blankly at him, wondering how this was supposed to be something you’d have a better hand at than Joel or Tommy.

“I know it ain’t your job duties, but I could use a little help,” he admits. “Jenn always sorta just handled this stuff, and I shoulda paid more attention to it when she was—”

“I can do it,” you answer quickly. If Jennifer had done it, you could do it. You had to do it. You weren’t going to come into this position with none of the experience she had and none of the work ethic, too.

“You don’t have to. I can do most of it, but I just need a little help organizing it and whatnot.”

“I can do it.”

“Well alright then,” he says like he’s relieved it’s settled and didn’t take too much convincing.

He pays for the meal, and you both head to the car to start your work day.

Kenzie: sssooooo the job???

Her text comes through, and your eyebrows shoot to your hairline in pleasant surprise. You’re shocked she even remembered you’d quit the grocery store and started full time with Miller Contracting. After ten seconds of consideration, you realize she probably had a little more incentive to recall more of what’s going on in your life because she wanted the dirt on you and Joel. You can’t really blame her, though. You’d be the same way.

You: omg hi! yes, it’s been really good! hbu

Kenzie: caught up w my study buddy friend again this past weekend

Kenzie: he did better this time around

Kenzie: might have to give him a better dicking down score tbh

You: gotta love a fast learner right lol

Kenzie: no fr haha

Kenzie: so have u and joel fucked yet or what

You roll your eyes. Of course she probably would’ve already had this figured out and been fucking Joel on the regular if she was in your shoes, but you didn’t have the sort of inherent charm and finesse that Kenzie seemed to possess when it came to hooking up and relationships.

You: he’s literally my boss

Kenzie: ok but im not hearing a no…..

You: you are trying to get me fired 😐

Kenzie: no im trying to get u FUCKED

Kenzie: which btw whens the last time somebody knocked the cobwebs outta that pussy 

You: omfg

Kenzie: 🎤🎤🎤 lets hear it bitch i need to know what im working with

You groan and scrub a hand over your face. You really, really weren’t in the mood for this particular conversation. It had been a long time since you’d been with anybody, but that wasn’t what made you reluctant to dive into the topic. You’d told her about your past experiences, but she never picked up on the fact that you didn’t mention who they had been with. Pretty much everything you knew about having a sex with a guy you’d learned from Kenzie’s extensive and detailed exploits. She would typically take the lead on conversations around hookups and whiskey dick and bad dating app matches, and you were happy to just listen along and live a little through her tellings.

You: don’t laugh

Kenzie: oh god ok hold on

Kenzie: ok im ready

You: it’s been like 3 years ish

Kenzie: WHAT

Kenzie: u didnt tell em this was an emegenyc!!!!!!!

You: are the typos for dramatic effect or are you legit that worked up

Kenzie: 🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨

Kenzie: if i wasnt in class right now id be calling you asap im so serious 

Kenzie: omfg ur poor kitty wtf that is actually tragic

You: ok actually I think I’d just prefer you to laugh at this point instead of whatever this is 💀

Kenzie: ok ok sorry

Kenzie: im just in a state of shock let me pull it together

Kenzie: ok

You: you have to remember I haven’t been with a ton of ppl

Kenzie: pure and innocent okay mary mother of jesus 🙏⛪

You: it’s not like I don’t want to!

You: you’re supposed to be helping me rn 😒

Kenzie: ok well what was he like?

You: who?

Kenzie: the last guy you were with? 3 years ago?

Ah, there it was. The default assumption. It wasn’t usually intended to be rude or presumptuous, but it put you in a position of having to explain your departure from the “norm.” You sigh and decide to give Kenzie a chance. She was super open when it came to sex and all that, so maybe she wouldn’t be like every other person you’d had this conversation with, which thankfully had been very few.

You: nope never been w a guy

Kenzie: …..

Kenzie: im so confused rn

You: well kenz when two ppl like each other a whole bunch, sometimes their crotches get all hot and tingly

Kenzie: ppfffttttt dont have to explain that part to me

Kenzie: ok so ur a virgin?!

Kenzie: 👁️👄👁️

You: nope just never had dick or dick shaped things inside me

Kenzie: hmmm ok idk if thats how that works but im gonna roll w it bc i really dont know lol

You sigh again. You know she’s probably genuinely confused and probably also trying to halfway pay attention to whatever lecture she’s in, but it’s still frustrating nonetheless. This idea that sex had to be penetrative to “count” never made a whole lot of sense to you, but over the years you’d found out that you were in the minority with that viewpoint.

You: wow ty for your grace and understanding 😐

Kenzie: i mean it could be worse we could be starting from square 1 so at least youve got some experience under your belt we can work with that

You: I’m really not trying to fuck up this job like obviously Joel is hot but I don’t want to lose this job bc I cross a line and do something stupid

Kenzie: i bet hes huge 😮‍💨

You: that’s not helpful!

Kenzie: ok ok!!! sorry i literally cant help it hes hot and has bde like its not my fault im thinking about it

You laugh at that. Joel did in fact carry himself with the confidence of a guy who was “blessed below the belt,” and the thick, broad physique he had also had all signs pointing to big. You tried your hardest not to think about that, though, because once you got fixated on it that was it. His body always felt so nice and warm next to yours, and you’d put a firm boundary in your mind to not let your imagination run wild about what was beneath the clothes.

You: ok I gotta get back to work

You: text me soon! I want to stay in the loop with everything!

Kenzie: same! 💖

You: ❤️

You’d always preferred pants, but a dress was a single item and cheaper than buying a decent pair of slacks and an appropriate but not boring top for this dinner you were organizing. There was a steakhouse that wasn’t too upscale but still landed in that clean, woodsy tavern type of environment you felt was a good fit for the crew. You knew your usual jeans and t-shirts weren’t going to cut it, so you carved out a little time to bike up to a few thrift stores in the area.

The wrap dress you’d picked had a sort of matronly floral pattern, but beggars can’t be choosers. Besides, it looked better on a body than dangling from a hanger, so it wasn’t a total loss. You used a few carefully placed pins to make sure it wasn’t going to fly open in the middle of the dinner, and, voila! you had a sort of cute outfit to wear to this thing.

The Sunday of the event finally rolled around, and your nerves were at an all time high. You worried that you had forgotten something or that people weren’t going to like the party or that you were going to embarrass yourself in some way. You ignored the catastrophizing as much as possible, but even your favorite, softest t-shirt was feeling itchy around the color while you waited near the front hallway to listen out for Joel’s truck.

You couldn’t leave the house in your dress without your dad demanding to know when and how you’d gotten it. He’d never approve a new dress for just one singular work function. It’s tucked away in your bag until you can change into it later. You make a beeline for the door when you hear Joel’s truck pull up. You absolutely do not want him to interact with your dad. The idea of him confronting Joel about your pay sets your panic on edge.

“When are you gonna be back?” he barks out. He’d agreed to let you go to this work event, but he wasn’t happy about it.

“It’s supposed to be from 1 to 3, dad. I might have to help clean up after, but I don’t think it’ll take too long.” Your hand grips on the doorknob when you hear Joel’s truck come to a complete stop. Bits of imagined images flash in your mind of your dad finding out you’d been lying to him this whole time about how much you made. Your stomach clenches.

“Clean up after? You’re not even getting paid for this thing. Why the fuck would you— You know what, nevermind. If you’re stupid enough to work this thing for free on a weekend, there’s no point trying to explain to you why that’s fucking ridiculous.” He huffs and shakes his head with an incredulous, aggravated smile.

“I’ll be back soon. Bye, dad.”

He settles back into his chair and flicks through the TV channels. “Fucking moron,” he mumbles loud enough for you to hear.

You pretend like you didn’t hear him even though you both know you did. Joel is approaching your front door when you bound down the steps towards him. “Hey, ready to go?” You don’t wait for an answer as you scurry to the passenger side. Joel rushes to open the door for you, and you feel bad about making him hurry. You just need to get off your street, and then your nerves might settle.

Joel hops into the driver’s seat and greets you with a smile. “Well hello to you, too.”

You force a smile back. “Sorry. Just don’t want to be late. I’d never forgive myself if I ruined this whole thing by being late.” He motions for you to put your seatbelt on, and it’s only then you realize he’s got on a nice pressed button up with dark wash jeans. His hair is lightly gelled and combed back.

“What the fuck,” you exhale.

“What?” He pulls back, brow knitted in confusion. 

“You– You look so handsome.” It jumps out of your mouth before you can stop yourself.

He bursts into a deep belly laugh and shakes his head. “Well you don’t have to sound so surprised about it.” He puts the gear in reverse. “Get your seatbelt on, sweetie.”

“‘Kay,” you mumble absently. When had the inside of the car gotten to 500 degrees? Were you sweaty or clammy? It was hard to tell. You shove the seatbelt into the lock and slump back, all while stealing glances at Joel. He pulls out of the driveway and heads down the street. You suddenly realize you look like an absolute dumpster fire in comparison. “I, um, I do have a different outfit. It’s in my bag.”

“Oh? You can wear what you’ve got on if you’re more comfortable in it,” he offers. “It’s just the guys. Nobody there to impress. I just figured I should put somethin’ on since I’m the big important boss, right?” He flashes a small grin your direction.

“No. I, um, I actually got, like, a real outfit for this. So. You don’t have to worry about me looking like a complete slob.”

He turns his head your direction fully now with a disapproving frown. “You look nice. Why’re you sayin’ that?”

You shrug and look out your window. “Didn’t mean anything by it.”

“Sounds like you did,” he contends.

“Sorr–” You clamp your mouth shut before the word can leave it. “I’ll word it better next time.”

The drive is quiet for a few minutes.

“Hey, you doin’ okay? S’everything alright?”

You hug your arms tighter around yourself. “Yeah, why?”

“Just seem bothered or somethin’. You sure nothin’s wrong?” he presses.

“Just nervous I guess about the party,” you half-lie.

He reaches a hand over without taking his eyes off the road, and your throat squeezes tight when his hand settles gently against the top of your thigh. “You have no reason to be nervous, okay? You did a great job, I just know it. And if anybody doesn’t like somethin’ — even though I doubt that’ll happen — we’re gonna say that I did it or chose it, okay?”

“You don’t have to—”

“That’s our plan, okay?” he interjects. He stops at a red light and turns to look at you, pinning you with a tender but firm expression. “You’re an employee, too, remember? So you should have a good time just like everybody else, you hear?”

You nod and slowly put your hand atop his. You graze your fingers against the solid shape of it and feel grounded for the first time all day. “Okay. I’ll try to enjoy myself.”

“Good,” he approves with a gentle squeeze to your leg before putting both hands on the steering wheel again.

The steakhouse has a private room that you booked, and you get another boost of encouragement when you see that the setup they did is really nice. Joel appraises and compliments every balloon, confetti, tablecloth color,  banner you picked, and so on until he starts repeating himself. You were worlds away from the stress of your house by now, and you slipped away to the bathrooms to change before people started arriving. You situate your dress so it hangs just right, double check the pins are in place, and give your hair a quick pat down.

“Oh good, no one’s here yet,” you sigh when you rush back into the private party room.

Joel’s hands are in his pockets as he casually stands admiring your efforts for the party. He turned when you spoke and stopped dead in his tracks. “Wow!”

“Oh, you don’t have to do all that just because I was an idiot in the truck,” you dismiss.

“You look incredible!” he raves. He pulls his hands from his pockets and holds them out low to his sides as he approaches you with an open appraisal of your form. He’s standing so close now you feel a bit dizzy. It doesn’t help matters when he slides his hands to cup your elbows. “That’s a really nice dress. You look really nice.”

“Thanks,” you mumble. Your chest might as well be on fire, and your ears were throbbing with a pulsing drum.

“And you’re not an idiot. I really wish you’d quit sayin’ that stuff,” he adds gently. His face is open, imploring you to stop the ingrained habit of tearing yourself down with simple but hurtful self-directed words.

“I don’t mean to,” you admit in a soft hush. You rest a hand on his stomach and fiddle with the small buttons there.

“I know you don’t,” he says just as soft. He smooths a cluster of stray hairs to sit behind your ear.

He nudges your chin before putting his hands back in his pockets. “Chin up, alright? Let’s have a good time.”

Your mouth twitches to the side in a little half smile. “Okay,” you agree.

You keep your word for the most part. The rest of the employees filter in one by one, all dressed in varying degrees of special occasion attire. You feel a bit better about your dress now seeing a few others wearing pretty much what you’d consider “elevated loungewear.” You recognize the names and a few faces, but you’ve never really had a chance to actually sit down and talk with most of them. They all seem friendly and easygoing. The back and forth between everybody feels like one of those scenes in a movie or TV show where everybody is sitting around for a holiday meal while the camera pans through all the boisterous, joyful interactions.

You surprise yourself by enjoying all of it and glancing around at all the happy energy zipping through the room. Normally you’d probably feel like the odd man out for not really knowing anybody that well, but the atmosphere is so warm and friendly that it feels perfectly acceptable to just be a content fly on the wall. It probably helps that Joel keeps checking in on you as he’s taken to doing.

You’re sat near the end with him and Tommy – prime positioning for whoever needs to get up and grab something or stand to make an announcement. The man of the hour Paul is seated near the other end of the table, which actually turns out perfect since most people’s attention keeps focusing his way. You make sure to keep the physical and verbal boundaries with Joel in check even though you wish you could just reach out and hold his hand.

The first snag comes when the drink orders are being taken. Everyone is getting beer or wine, and you feel a bit of panic rise up. You can’t remember the last time you drank, and you don’t want to make a fool of yourself or be the only person not drinking. It was a celebration after all, and the pressure to just pick something and deal with the consequences were weighing on you more and more the closer the wait staff got to you. You fumble with the drink menu and pray to god your hands don’t shake too much or heaven forbid your voice when you actually have to speak.

“And for you, ma’am?” the waiter asks politely.

“Um. Um… I … I, um…..”

“Oh, what about that peach moscato I was tellin’ you that Sarah won’t shut up about? You said you like moscato, right?” Joel pipes up.

You turn to him and try to hide the surprise on your face. You’d never had any such conversation. It dawns on you that he’s trying to help. “Oh, yeah! Perfect. Um. I can’t remember what it’s called, though?”

Joel pretends to be in thought for a moment trying to recall. “Hm, I think the label has a flower on it? A peach flower maybe?”

The waiter “regretfully informs” Joel that he isn’t familiar with the moscato in question. You feel a bit bad for him knowing all of it was just something Joel had pulled out of his ass to save yours. Joel shrugs and says whatever peach moscato they’ve got would do. The waiter nods and scribbles down your order before excusing himself and taking Joel and Tommy’s orders for beers. Everyone is served their beverage, and you actually think your fizzy pink drink looks pretty with all the peach slices floating around in it.

“Mind if I try some?” Joel asks when you haven’t taken a sip after several minutes.

“Oh, go ahead.” You hope he takes a big gulp so you have less alcohol to get through. When he does just that, it takes all your effort to not jump into his arms. He makes an approving face at the taste of it before setting it back down in front of you. He leans closer to you and quietly says, “Weak as shit just like I figured. You should be good with what’s left.”

“Thank you,” you whisper.

He leans back into his own space and gives your lower back a quick, encouraging rub.

Everyone is ordering steak and seafood and some of the fanciest food you think you’ve ever heard of. You choose the peppered mustard salmon filet at the waiter’s suggestion that it would pair nicely with your moscato. You finally do take a sip and whip your head Joel’s direction.

His eyebrows raise in question, and he breaks into a soft grin when he recognizes your pleased reaction. “You like it? S’good, huh?”

You bite your bottom lip and nod. “It’s actually really good. Thank you.”

He leans in again so just you can hear him. “Sorry I cleared most of it already. Was just tryna let you off the hook. You want me to order you another one?”

“No, that’s okay. I really appreciated that, by the way.”

“Of course, hon.” He pulls away and cuts through his medium rare steak. He offers you a slice, and you take a bite. It’s delicious. You all share a laugh when he asks if you want to try some of Tommy’s medium well steak, just so you can see the difference of how steak should actually be eaten. “Whatever, man. If not wantin’ your food to bleed out all over your plate is wrong, then I don’t wanna be right,” Tommy asserts with a sparkly eyed grin.

After dinner, a few of the crew stand to make their toasts and reminisce on times Paul made an ass out of himself or dropped a really expensive power tool and broke it or found himself in the awkward position of being pursued by both the husband and wife – separately – on a kitchen remodel job he worked. Tommy stands and says a few words about Paul’s work ethic and great attitude that keeps the hard days from being unbearable. Joel stands and offers a few words of his own and then detours a little.

“And we’ve been so lucky to have a guy like Paul with us for these past 10 years. We always wanna show our thanks to him and to all of you for showin’ up every day and just gettin’ shit done.”

The table murmurs in agreement with a few people making exaggerated whooping sounds.

“And I also wanna say,” Joel continues, looking down at you and gesturing for you to stand with him. Your legs feel like jelly as you rise and let him wrap a loose arm around your shoulders. “That this one right here put all

this together, so a special thanks to her for that.” Most of the table gives their cheers! or their quiet golf claps, and you fight the urge to run away and hide under the table. “She’s also the reason why y’all’s paychecks didn’t get fucked up when Jennifer had to leave us so quick—” Joel gives a pointed look to Corey, an employee and Jennifer’s ex-fiance once she discovered his cheating, who blushes and drops his gaze “—so let’s all make sure to let her know we appreciate her coming on board in the middle of all that mess and helpin’ to keep things on track.”

The table collectively gives a genuine round of cheering and laughter in praise of you and your role in their undisturbed paychecks. You nervously smile and wave in acknowledgment. Joel gestures that you can take a seat again, which you gratefully accept.

“So here’s to all of you from me and Tommy both. Don’t matter if you’ve been here 10 years or 10 months, we wanna say we appreciate the work y’all do. Thanks everybody for comin’ out today to celebrate.” With that, Joel tips his beer in the air to toast with everyone, and you sip down the rest of your drink.

As things start to wind down, you excuse yourself to the restroom and pluck your phone from your bag to check it before coming back. Just another reason why you could never truly be a dress sort of girl: the lack of pockets. You have a warm glow about you as you assess your reflection in the bathroom mirror, and you know it’s not just the few sips of moscato you’ve had. This had been fun. Being out with other people – and even with everyone drinking – it never got too rowdy or uncomfortable. Your chest pangs at the thought of how much you wish you could do something like this more often.

But that wasn’t your life, so you quickly brush those feelings away. You’d learned long ago that lingering on the impossible only made you feel worse. You sigh and pull your flip phone from where you’d ungracefully shoved it into your top. Your heart drops when you see you’ve missed 7 calls from your father. It drops even more when you see he hadn’t bothered texting. It signaled one of those moods he got into where he’d get indignant over the thought of having to exert too much energy to access you. You should be the one checking to make sure he didn’t want to say something or need something.

Your hands are shaking as you exit the bathroom to get a better signal in the hallway. The phone only rings twice before your father picks up.

“If you aren’t going to answer my calls, there’s no need for you to have a phone at all,” his cutting voice comes through.

“Dad, I’m so sorry, I was just—”

“Do you even know what time it is? Have you even been keeping track of it?” he interrupts.

You regretfully haven’t. You’d been having such a good time that you hadn’t thought about how long it’d been. You’d booked the room for 12-4. Hadn’t you told him you’d be staying behind to help clean up? It couldn’t be that far out of the window, could it?

“Dad, it’s a work–”

“Bullshit!” he snaps. “You have other responsibilities! You know all the shit that needs to be done around the house before the week starts!”

You flinch even though he’s not present. You knew that tone all too well.

“Dad, I swear I’ll—”

“You can’t just leave all your responsibilities in the dust just because you want to go out and get rowdy with coworkers!”

“I’m not, dad! Please just let me—”

“GET YOUR ASS HOME IMMEDIATELY!”

“I-I’ll stay up to get everything done, dad. I swear! I’ll get started right when I get home!”

You imagine he must mean pressing his shirts, cleaning the kitchen, and tidying up in general. And whatever other chore he dreamt up on the spot that you were expected to jump up and do without question.

“If you don’t get home soon, I’m gonna lock your ass out. See if you lose track of time again after that.”

“Dad! I’m leaving soon! I–”

The other end goes dead, and you pull your phone away to see the home screen. He hung up on you. The clock reads 4:37.

Joel is happy to see his employees getting some downtime, an opportunity to throw back some beers and shoot the shit with each other. They all worked so hard. It felt good to be able to do things like this for them. 

You’d slipped away to the bathroom several minutes ago, and Joel excuses himself with the intent of thanking you without anyone else around. He figures he could use a bathroom break himself, and he winds through the restaurant towards them. He stops just short of the hallway when he hears your voice, but it’s not your usual tone. There’s a shakiness to it that Joel immediately clocks. 

“I’m not, dad! Please just let me—”

Why do you sound so panicked? Did you say ‘dad’? Why would talking to your dad have you so frazzled?

“I-I’ll stay up to get everything done, dad. I swear! I’ll get started right when I get home!”

What did you have to stay up to do? Why did you have to get home to get started on it? How much of it was there? You hadn’t even been gone that long.

“Dad! I’m leaving soon! I–”

There’s just quiet after that. Joel immediately thinks back  to a conversation he’d had with you earlier this week after you’d finished a call with a particularly disgruntled client.

“You sure you never worked at a call center or somethin’?” Joel laughed.

“No, never. Why?”

“S’just you don’t seem fazed at all by people bitin’ your head off. It’s the sorta thing you think seasoned debt collectors would be used to, not somebody workin’ at the supermarket.”

He then thinks about the way your dad spoke about you when he’d run into him at the car shop. Joel starts to wonder if it’s the same way he talks to you.

He slowly rounds the corner to find you staring blankly at your phone. Your head snaps up when you notice him.

“Oh! Joel, hi. You scared me,” you breathily laugh.

“Hey, you okay?” He can’t help himself. He considered playing it off like he hadn’t heard anything – to just mind his own business for once when it came to you – but he had to know if there was something wrong, if there was something he could help with.

“Oh, yeah. I’m fine. My dad just gets really worried when I’m out by myself.”

“You’re not by yourself,” he contends, a little offended by the notion that your dad didn’t trust him for some reason. Joel reminded himself that he was protective of Sarah and that your dad was probably just coming from the same place. He couldn’t blame a dad for being protective over his baby girl.

“You know what I mean,” you breathe with a shake of your head. The undercurrent of your words came through clear as day: please don’t make me explain it because I’m so, so tired.

“Yeah, alright. I, uh, overheard a little bit when I came ‘round the corner. You, uh, need to get home soon?”

Your sad eyes locked onto Joel, and it took everything in him to not scoop you up into a tight hug and tell you that he’d do anything right now to see you as carefree and happy as you’d been not that long ago at the table.

“Yeah, sorry. I can call a cab if you–”

“No. We can get goin’ if that’s what you wanna do,” he assures you. “Let me just use the bathroom real quick and say bye to everybody. We’ll get goin’ quick, alright?”

Your frown added to the contradiction of the entire situation. It didn’t seem much like you wanted to go home at all despite insisting you did. Joel knew he’d be replaying the entire day over and over in his head to figure it out.

Joel had offered to walk you inside after getting the car door for you, but you managed to talk him out of it, saying how he’d done plenty for today and that you’d see him in the morning. He waved and reversed out the drive before disappearing around the corner.

The front door was unlocked. You breathe a sigh of relief. One obstacle down, one million to go.

Your father is waiting in the foyer for you, tall and imposing. “Took you long enough.”

“Dad, I’m so sorry.”

“What’re you wearing?” He rounds on you now like a buzzard on rotting flesh.

Your gut turns when you realize you’d forgotten to change out of your dress. He pulls at the sleeve as if to inspect it.

“Dad, be careful! That’s Kenzie’s dress!” you lie. “If I mess it up I’m gonna have to replace it!”

“Oh, is that so?” he sneers. He yanks your bag from your shoulder and flips it upside down, emptying its contents all over the floor. You stay frozen in place as he uses his foot to kick around your things and search for some incriminating item. You almost lurch forward when he toes your clothes to the side and sees your work phone.

“And I guess this is Kenzie’s phone, too? Just borrowing a brand new phone from a friend?” he mocks as he leans down to pick it up and shove it in your face.

You shake your head, your tongue heavy and inoperative, and a black fit of rage clouds over his eyes.

“So, you’re stealing money from the account somehow, huh? Spending it on ridiculous things for yourself? How long has that been going on?” he demands.

“No, I’m not! It’s for work!” you plead.

“Oh yeah, just like this little function today was for work, huh? BULLSHIT!”

It happens before you can stop him. You watch in horror as he throws your work phone into the wall. It thuds to the floor with cracks throughout the screen in several places.

“Dad, stop! I need that for work!” you cry. You scramble to the floor to salvage what you can.

Something in your voice must tell him you’re not lying. He seems to realize you’re telling the truth: it is a work phone. You hadn’t been hiding anything or spending money – your own money from your own account.

“See what happens when you keep secrets? Makes me feel like I can’t trust you at all.” 

It’s as close to an admission of error that you’re going to get. He certainly wasn’t going to outright apologize. You hold back tears until he stomps off into the living room and plops down in his chair, just where you’d left him earlier today. You gather your mess of things from the floor and try to pull yourself together enough for the hours of chores ahead of you.

You’d been close to your normal self on Monday morning when Joel picked you up. He was waiting for some somber mood or vague mention of yesterday’s hasty departure. But, you were acting like nothing had happened. So, Joel did, too. He’d found that taking your lead with these strange situations was the only thing that kept your guard down. He’d have to just work the information out of you slowly and gently.

The entire thing had left a sour taste in his mouth. Maybe your dad had really just been worried about you being out past when you’d said you’d be home, but was it really necessary for him to get so upset over it? You couldn’t just up and leave of your own accord since Joel had driven you both, so why did it seem like your dad was blaming you for something you had no control over?

It wasn’t until Wednesday when he saw your broken work phone that the uneasy feelings came back tenfold. You’d sworn up and down that you’d dropped it a couple days ago and that you’d meant to tell him about it but forgotten. You’d apologized profusely for it and urged him to deduct the amount from your paycheck.

It just added to that nagging feeling that something wasn’t quite right. First the apparent relief of being paid cash. The fact that your dad was on all your accounts. The condescending, sharp way he’d held himself when Joel ran into him at the auto shop. The way you always seemed to change the topic whenever family or home came up. The way you sounded upset on the phone with your dad on Sunday. And now your work phone had been “dropped and cracked.” 

It all gave Joel a bad feeling he couldn’t quite pin, but he couldn’t root it on any one thing in particular. All he could do was keep a closer eye on you and watch for more indications.

He takes you to get a new work phone and doesn’t leave until you’ve picked out the color you want of the newest version available. He doesn’t entertain your hesitance at accepting such a “nice gift.” He downplays it for your benefit. “Nah, quit it. It’s a work thing, but, hey, if it feels like a gift, I ain’t gonna argue with that.”

You were supposed to be getting direct deposits just like every other employee starting next month after Tommy had pressed him about it, but Joel wanted to keep that on hold until he got a better idea of what this bad feeling was that had taken hold of him. He’d been paying you in cash and driving you to the bank every other week, and he suggested doing that for “a little while longer” until he “could get some other things sorted out.”

To no surprise, you had no qualms with the offering.

You’d faked your excitement with everyone else around the office about the days off coming up for the holiday. Now here you were up at the crack of dawn trying to scrounge up whatever you could to put together something for today. It wasn’t going to be a Thanksgiving feast, that’s for sure. Part of you is relieved when your dad wakes up and tells you he’s going to Denise’s for the day. He’d been standoffish since he’d thrown your phone, but you didn’t dare acknowledge his almost rueful demeanor. If he didn’t directly address it, you knew better than to bring it up.

Just for good measure and to keep you in line, your dad explains that Denise’s parents are going to be there today, and he’s not willing to risk you tagging along and making some sort of scene. He wants to make a good impression, and it’s abundantly clear he doesn’t consider you someone that would make him look good. If you’re not an asset, you’re just in the way.

He takes the one decent dish you’d managed to produce and tells you not to wait up.

The quiet and calmness of an empty house is a rarity – a nice change of scenery – but you can’t pretend you’re not a little lonely. Something about the holiday where you’re meant to gather around family and friends and express your gratitude for them and everything else. It all amplified your solitude. You can’t keep your mind from drifting to your younger brother Calum who you hadn’t heard from properly in months. 

He’d made the choice to leave almost a year ago. In truth, you’d never really felt lonely until he left. And as much as it hurt to no longer have him here with you, you understood. The least you could do was respect his choice and give him the gift of leaving this awful place behind. He didn’t need reminders of his past, what he’d decidedly departed from, when he was probably enjoying himself on Thanksgiving for the first time ever. You smiled as

you imagined the friends he might be having a meal with. At least one of you got out. You don’t begrudge him, but you do wish there was some way to know if he ever missed you.

A blanket work text comes through on your work phone. Some sparkly cornucopia graphic with even more sparkly text that read Happy Thanksgiving! It was sent by Joel, but you had a feeling the graphic was more of Tommy’s doing. You respond back to Joel on a private text.

You: happy thanksgiving :) shame you didn’t send out one of your famous emoji stories tho

Joel: Tommy made me send that ugly thing.

Joel: Thought of you earlier, by the way.

You: oh?

Joel: Yeah the parade was on, and I saw the Jolly Green Giant. Creepy fucker. Don’t remember him looking like that.

You: and that made you think of me? 😐

You snort at the inadvertently rude comment and break into a wide smile when his contact takes up the screen.

“It’s fine, Joel,” you assure him.

He groans on the other end. “Listen, I was tryna say that I thought of you ‘cause of the grocery store, you know? Canned green beans at the store? And you used to work at the supermarket, so… And the float was ugly – I don’t think you’re ugly, not in the slightest — I, well— now that came out wrong, goddammit—” You openly giggle at his floundering, and he lets out a nervous, self-deprecating chuckle.

“Been making merry it sounds like,” you lightheartedly tease. 

He makes a sheepish sort of sound and admits to “having been bullied into a coupla bottles of beer by Tommy” but is quick to assure you he’s going to “stuff myself with some appetizers to soak some of it up before talking to any other employees.” You grimace at the reminder that this is not in fact some friendly call but rather your boss just sending out a mass text wishing everybody a nice holiday. 

You wish you were there with him. His warmth and kindness feels like it was meant to be shared on days like this, surrounded by a good meal and a happy family. Even this somewhat inebriated version of him is so different from what you’ve grown up with.

“Sure is quiet over there,” he notes.

“Yeah, I just stepped outside for a minute when I saw you were calling.”

“Ah, well don’t let me keep you from it, sweetheart.”

“Okay. Thanks for calling, Joel. Say hi to Tommy for me.”

“Will do. And, uh, sorry about the green beans thing again.”

“Yeah, yeah. You owe me a trip to Blue Plate Diner for that one.”

He laughs and agrees that the “punishment fits the crime.” Your heart stutters at the promise of getting to cuddle up next to him in a booth again.

“So, you ate good and all that?” Joel asks as he turns the wheel.

“Oh yeah. Probably gained five pounds,” you lie with a fake laugh. “How about you? Tommy bully you some more after we talked?”

He chuckles and shakes his head. “Gotta remind myself that alcohol hits different the older you get. Gotta have some food in me first before I start sayin’ crazy things.” He grumbles to himself when he pulls into the office parking lot and finds a large portion of it sectioned off with cones. He spots somebody in a high visibility vest and hops out to talk to him.

You watch on as he points to the various cones and then to your office door. The worker nods and gestures to something down the road. You try to follow along to where he’s pointing, but his hand drops before you get a good look. After another moment of discussion, Joel shakes the guy’s hand and moves a few cones aside. To your horror, he motions for you to drive through.

It’s a short, straight path. You don’t have a license, but this was as simple as it got in terms of driving without hitting anything. The entire lot was empty except for the cones Joel had moved aside for you. You shakily scoot over to the driver’s side but can’t make yourself shift the gear. You’re suddenly cold and clammy, staring blindly at the wheel and the gearshift. Why can’t you just do this simple thing?

You jump at the door opening. You hadn’t even noticed Joel making his way back over to you. “Hey, you’re alright. I got it.” He hops into the truck without another word, and you barely shift over enough to make space for him. You wait for the insults to fly, but they don’t come.

No why you couldn’t manage such a simple request?! barked at you

No I have to do everything myself! hurtled your way.

Instead, he pulled into a space and put it in park. Before you’d even opened your mouth to apologize, he waved you off.  “Nah, shouldn’t have assumed you were comfortable with it. That’s my fault,” he offers casually. 

“It’s so stupid, I should’ve just–”

“Shouldn’t have asked ya in the first place. Not right. I know you don’t have your license, and I shouldn’t have assumed you’d be comfortable even if I thought it wasn’t a big deal. I’m sorry for puttin’ you in that spot.”

Your mouth feels dry, adrenaline coursing with the stress of a reprimand that wasn’t going to come but you’d been trained to expect. He hops out and gets the door for you, just like he always does. You take his hand as you step down from the truck and hate how you have to let it go.

“You know, uh, if you ever wanted to, I could take you to get your learner’s. I could take you to practice – you know, just learn the basics. If it’d make you feel more comfortable….”

“Yeah, okay.”

You had to learn to drive eventually, right? And you weren’t about to turn down more time alone with Joel.

You listen as he rattles on about all the abandoned parking lots and empty job sites he has in mind for you to practice without the stress of people or cars around. You want to tell him that if you were with him you knew you’d be alright. You settle for a “thank you.”

◦ ty to @jupiter-soups for looking this over ◦ posting this a tad earlier than planned bc I'm going to be offline towards the end of the week and want to make sure this goes up without any issues ◦ ty for all the love thus far on this series!

tagging those who have shown interest (lmk if you want be removed):

@verybigvag @drunk-and-capable @bizarrelove-triangle @dontjudgemyobsessionpls @cumberpegg @koshkaj-blog @survivingandenduring @umnitsa @ellenmunn @zooty-and-fruity @walw1017 @keylimebeag @beelzebeth87 @janaispunk @wand-erer5 @0vix0 @pastelnap @goodwithcheese @akah565 @fadajnaoqkzalq @confusedpuffin

[doeeyeddyke]

post Lazarus transfem Jay, where no one knows shit about her coming back until completely accidentally, partly bc she's not even the (sole) center of attention

Damian is sent to Gotham and is one day like btw I have some sisters and Bruce is like..... "Are They Mine" (Wait I Might Have Girls 🥺) (secret girldad Bruce for the win) and Damian is like.... Jane will be displeased if I say anything.... but I think Athanasia biologically is Father's..... but I don't want to lie..... hmmm...... "idk anyway look at the time doot di doot...."

Talia doesn't pick up when Bruce calls she's just like "girls go check if it's anything important or if he's just having a meltdown"

So now 2 sisters start popping up around more often to keep and eye out and check on Damian and one is super tall and buff and the other is much shorter and slighter but they call themselves twins even if short one says she's older and tall one is like "barely!! it doesn't count!!" which honestly yea they're sisters alright

That's how Black Swan and White Dove come to be known, Black Swan is quiet and seemingly ambivalent about the bats but White Dove sounds like she's about to beat the shit out of Batman and to a lesser degree Nightwing and seems vaguely displeased being around Tim's Robin but is cool with Spoiler/Batgirl (esp since she's gotten close to Black Swan and treats her well) and distantly polite to young Duke the very few times they meet

Tim's Robin: hey what's up with that

Damian:

Robin:

Damian: she has Issues With Men don't you know anything Drake smh leave her alone

Robin:

Robin: Oh. Yea ok that makes sense ig sorry man

Damian: don't tell her I said anything tho

(Damian to himself later: it's not Untrue but that's not exactly what's- wait ok that's kinda exactly what's going on here isn't it)

Btw Damian calls her Jane but her full name is Catherine Jane Columba (Mom's name + Jane Austen + Mom's hc maiden name) and she uses Jane with league sibs but CJ in general for everyone else

Anyway I imagine that Cass and Jane start hanging around more and are eventually considered neutral to friendly extension of batfam via Damian (and Athanasia and Mara when they're sent over) (Athanasia is sweet if a lil awkward and much younger than everyone else, Mara is very "You're Not My Dad just a sort of step uncle at best" but Bruce is like "omg,,, daughters,,,,")

Cass might even eventually come over for dinner or smth maybe as Steph's plus one and Dick would be like "omg I am going to big brother you so hard" and Bruce is like "are you sure you don't want to be my daughter" and Tim is trying to figure out if he can do his stalking out of affection and respect thing without getting his butt kicked and the Al Ghul kids are being absolute demons fighting for Cass' attention and trying to find out what Jane is upto

The Jane identity reveal can be totally anticlimactic (Damian says Jane wants to meet them and then at a scheduled dinnerthey meet a buff tall older female lookalike of the dead second Robin and they think "omg 😱 surprise older Todd sister no one knew about??" and Jane doesn't let anyone say anything bc she wants to see how long this lasts)

Or maybe there's some big fight or whatever or fear toxin is involved and a league sib is hurt and Jane unmasks to comfort and tend to them and Bruce or Dick (or even Alfred!) see her face and have a bit of an aneurysm and Jane's too distracted with big sister-ing to be too explicitly angry with the bats at the moment but makes a snappy remark or smth that gives her away ("miss me old man" /sarcastic and /derogatory if it's Bruce)

And uh yea anyway don't take this too seriously I'm half delirious and keep dissociating in turns and I just wanted an excuse for transfem Jason and ended up really loving CJ/Jane

[st0r-fruit]

HEAR ME OUT HAYARYUU SHIPPERS!!

Hayaryuu as girldads. Yes. You read that right.

Kamitani learning to tie his daughter's hair, learning all the styles so she can have variety of looks. (Akdhslkak imagine the visual of him sitting behind his daughter with his sleeves rolled up as his hands parting hairs into sections while the rubber band is hold by his mouth)

Ryuuichi cooking up her favorite things, packing up cute bentos for her lunch. (you can't tell me this man would NOT wake up earlier just to make bunny shaped rice with seaweed face or swan-carved carrots for his daughter)

Kotaro and Taka becomes best uncle babysitters, both being chaotic. Gaming together, eating together. She said "oh i can't play with my uncles tonight they have homework" and people around her are confused as hell. (Age add by 10 years so the kiddos r 12 years old)

Ryuuichi and Kamitani spoiling the hell out of their girl. Tea parties, picnics, outings, pretty outfits, toys, etc. They won't be adopting another kid because they have their little brothers to take care of as well so the little girl was the perfect addition.

Kamitani teaching her handy things in life like how to change tires, which screw is which, how to drive how to shop smart, baking, etc while Ryuuichi teaches her cooking, soft skills like talking to people and handling them, presentation, life lessons and morals, etc.

Both dads being supportive as heck in whatever their daughter does. They're the loudest cheerleaders and you bet they make motivation banners and props. Kotaro and Taka is there too, being their biggest fan aside from the dads.

Getting side eyed by parents in their daughter's class thinking their daughter should need a mother not two fathers but they're one of the PTA organizers and class representative and they're the cool parents kids love.

Ryuuichi bringing snacks to class events, and every kids love them he starts thinking of selling them in school. Kamitani being the competitive sports dad that argues with the coach when the coach gives a yellow card to his daughter cause what the hell. (He almost got into a fight with the coach)

Being protective girl dads, but not to the point it's toxic. Kamitani being the average dad when his daughter brings a boy to their house, very suspicious but is still polite. (Do no harm but take no shit--Kamitani)

They're definitely emotional in their adult daughter's wedding. Surprise surprise Kamitani's crying, sobbing. Ryuuichi having to have tissues by his lap to wipe it away on Kamitani's face.

I have more but this is it at the moment.

[worldenough-and-time]

Saturday Snippet

Thanks to @kaleidoscopexsighs and @spindrifters for the tag!

Still moving slow on the new stuff, so here’s a bit from the next chapter of True Blue that I’m gonna post tomorrow. This one goes out to all my Lee Pace DILF Lyall Lupin mutuals:

———

There was a pause, and Remy found herself calling on her own magic, no spellwork to direct it, just her stubborn hope that whatever had come over her father might last.

“Do you ever miss it?” She asked him. “Working for the Ministry, I mean.”

“Ah, no, no,” Lyall said, shaking his head, his dark hair falling into his face. “The creatures, I s’pose. But beasties are beasties at the end of it all.” He looked kindly over at Daisy, slumbering softly in the corner of the barn. “Magic or muggle, I never made much of the difference. An Owl’s just an owl till a wizard knows him, you see?”

Remy did see.

“It's like all those years ago, when they tried to tell me your mum wasn’t magic, yeah?” Her da smiled and looked down at his feet, snorting gruffly. “Never believed a word of it.”

Remy beamed up at him. She was so lost in the moment, so pleased to hear her father’s voice, that she hardly noticed when her hand caught on a spare wire coming off of the wash bucket handle, and sliced a mean red line into her palm.

Her father noticed, though.

“Your hand,” he said. Her da frowned, brown eyes focusing on the small cut. His mouth set into a grimace.

Remy held her hand to her chest, palm inward to hide the cut. “It’s nothing.”

———

The whole thing’ll be up tomorrow- it’s the third year Christmas chapter so of course it’s my favorite… maybe shed a lil tear while writing it…

(girldad Lyall Lupin broke me you guys)

No pressure tags for @capacity-for-wonder @kaaaaaaarf @lynxindisguise @achilleslikespeas @maliceofminds @sommerregenjuniluft

[lollytea]

Ok you cannot mention Hunter and Willow having kids without elaborating. Do you have a set family in your head? Or are you more ambiguous with it (i.e. go with whatever huntlow family art/writing you see in the moment bc you don’t have a solid picture of what their family would look like)

I flip flop between ambiguous and having an idea of an actual kid in my head. Its always daughters tho. Hunter having massive girldad vibes makes sure of that. Giuls has a hunlow fankid and I was there throwing stuff back and forth during the development process. So I feel connected to her and she's usually the default daughter in my head. I love her.

I either see them as having one daughter or two. I've been meaning to come up with a fankid myself but I haven't thought about it much. All I know for certain is I want her to be a girl named Jack. I love it. It's gender to me.

[blorbocedes]

all in a day’s work, L-lestappen anon, so just for you and blorbo, imagine this… (taking inspo from our lord and saviour findae from here, if that’s okay!) also this is very crazy, long, and bad because i’m a miserable human being who can’t do anything but angst/comfort

lorenzo single (girldad, because duh) father and stocky-thighed, loudmouthed max who’s born to be a stepfather, i mean have you seen him with penelope? anyways it’s the british GP. lorenzo is proud brother turned father of of arthur, who wins the feature race there, the same weekend carlos wins his first grand prix, like ever. (but this time carlos isn’t looking for max, this isn’t toro rosso, they’re not those guys anymore—he’s looking for charles.)

anyways…max has what could be considered his worst performance of the season so far that wasn’t a DNF…and comforting girldad lorenzo is just right there…visiting with his little girl who probably thinks max personally put the moon in the sky…lorenzo’s just like “si, bambina, this is max!” and max is just like oh my god she’s just so—she’s already halfway up his hip and he’s grinning, he’s forgetting about his disaster of a performance. she’s already taking his hat that, before, seemed stapled to his head.

night falls and she’s still there, sleepy and stuck to him like glue—which allows loronzo, who’s usually so, so, serious, to have a drink or two, nothing serious, just bubbly, but he’s laughing anyway and his cheeks are red. he’s shimmies up to max, pressing his pretty lips to his ear and he’s like “i haven’t seen charles anywhere!” and max’s face is thunder, just for a moment. so lorenzo’s just like ok whatever i’m pretending like i didn’t see that give me daughter back! but max is like no bro she’s just sooooooo cute i can’t! and they go back and forth until lorenzo, the mature one of the two, is like you know what i’m going back to the motorhome she needs sleep and idgaf if you’re coming or not she’s going, now. so they both go, waking slowly under the lights as to not wake her. something something they put her to rest and it’s just quiet, everything is muffled. lorenzo’s not exactly looking at him while he’s stroking her hair—jet black like his, curlier though—he’s not saying anything either, he’s just sighing and telling her he loves her.

anyways, after, when they’re outside in the cold, lorenzo, not trying to pry is like, ever so softly “you and charles…?” but max isn’t having it he’s just like doesn’t matter, your daughter is so cute did you know that? he’s trying to think about literally anything else and he doesn’t even understand why instead of looking over lorenzo’s head (he’s much shorter) so he doesn’t have to look him in the eyes, he’s looking at his mouth. he doesn’t really get why he feels like he’s on a podium, doesn’t really get why lorenzo’s looking at him like he’s saying i know what it feels like to be first place but somehow second best.

but max is just so closed off, he’s 24, he’s angry, he’s young, he’s like “you wouldn’t ever understand.” yet lorenzo is so kind, he’s patient, and his slender hands are on his shoulders, on the thin fireproofs. his hands are circling his throat, just massaging the bump of bone right there, so soft and gentle and comforting max almost feels like crying. he just wants to bury himself in his neck, smell the warm sandalwood and ylang-ylang, and pray that everything just stops, that they can just sit there for a moment and he can be just max, who has lorenzo’s fingers around his neck—no names tied to it. no verstappen, no leclerc, with no charles, or carlos, or even danny or anybody, just those two.

just two fingers massaging his throat, dark, glistening eyes looking up at him, eyes that tell him it’s okay, i know, i know how this feels. better luck next time? and maybe max is reading this wrong because what exactly does lorenzo know about being second place? but he doesn’t really find the time to care because he feels a shaven cheek, because a mouth is touching his cheek !!!, ever so gently as usual. whatever as usual is—but then again he doesn’t really actually care to think about that becuase he’s decided to replace cheek with mouth, and mouth to mouth he tastes bubbly and…mint…? it doesn’t really matter anyway because his mouth is just so sweet, so intoxicating. max wonders stupidly if you can get drunk off a person and the alcohol in their mouth, and decides that today is the day to find out.

—lorenzo anon x

thank you for sending me the first half after i fucked up!

i genuinely feel unqualified for such a wonderful GIFT in my inbox this is like the 💌💌💌 materialised?????? please post this...... we don't have a single L-lestappen on ao3 and you could be the first 🥺🥺🥺

SCREAMING GIRLDAD LORENZO AHHHHHHHHH 5)8.gahahf this is so Tender??? and so gentle??? ofc the babby is naturally drawn to max

(carlos isn't looking for him anymore they aren't in toro rosso.) Damn go off, you said versainz found DEAD 💀 I respect it... charlos lives

SI BAMBINA THIS IS MAX I CHOKED UP 🥺🥺🥺🥺

Charl and Max clearly have Something going on which I'm very 👀👀👀 about..... the thunderous look

max doing the max thing where he makes any small talk to talk to a leclerc hahhdjd he's got a CRUSH 🥺

max you big fucking idiot you think lorenzo LORENZO WHO HAD TO GIVE UP HIS KARTING CAREER TO AFFORD HIS BROTHERS DOESNT KNOW ABOUT BEING SECOND BEST????????? Ahhhhh screaming..... max being taken care of and being treated tenderly is literally my kryptonite like no offence I've fainted

the whole? stroking his neck?? and then the cheek to mouth kiss?)l? OP how does it feel to invent ROMANCE cause you did it you distilled it into one perfect moment. no leclerc no verstappen no one else just them as they are. im so feral

i actually need them together in slowburn but also immediately girldad Lorenzo and the WDC all too in his head needing someone who shakes him out of it, who is older and wiser and understand and it just happens to be his biggest rival's older brother. Screaming. Perfect. sobbing.

[sapphicrpc]

kaz who is YOUR favorite oc?

don't make me choose they are all my sweet baby children who i love with my whole soul i could never pick just one to be my favorite i have a special little place in my heart for them all..........

one of my favourites is one i haven't played in a long time but she's a genderfluid mutant who has the power of shapeshifting & she's a mystique based oc. he switches between whatever body and appearance he feels like fits his gender in that moment and i absolutely love that for him so much. my fave part is the dichotomy between her being an absolute fucking sweetheart who collects trinkets for people and writes people notes to make them smile and bakes them cookies - but also won't hesitate to unalive anyone who even hints at being anti mutant or oppose their cause. nobody does duality like us genderfluid folks.

another one of my faves is a tragic himbo who has a sad story but is still full of life and brightness because he learned to make others happy as a coping mechanism. he wants to be a fashion designer and artist and literally just wants to make people happy through art because it helps him deal with all the sadness and hurt he has inside his soul - which is particularly important because he is in witness protection so the only time they let their darkness show is in their art ~ oh and he basically raised his lil sister and their relationship is very very precious to me.

the third and final fave i'll mention is a sweet ghost girldad who was framed for the murder of his husband and is haunting the world trying to prove his innocence to his (also a ghost) husband and take care of their daughter. he spends most of his time just watching over her as she plays and scaring the other kids at the orphanage if they are ever mean to her by playing a "boo ghost" role to them.... i love him very much but he makes me very sad.

like i said, i can't choose - i have so many that i adore.

[sequinsmile-x]

As the Years Go By

A series of moments over the years between Aaron and Amelia.

Part of the Whatever Tomorrow Brings series

Coming 7th November for @sweetsecretskeptinside's birthday, because she deserves all the GirlDad!Hotch content in the world.

Snippet below the cut:

“You’re having a girl.”

“A girl?” Emily chokes out, her voice thick with emotion that overwhelms them both in an instant.

It was something he hadn’t realised he wanted until that very moment. The final piece of the puzzle falling into place. He looks at the screen, at his daughter, and he feels overwhelmed immediately. He kisses Emily’s forehead, his eyes not moving from the screen as Joanne points out that the baby was waving.

“Oh, honey.” Emily says, her voice unsteady. She puts a hand on his cheek and makes him look at her. She laughs at him as she wipes tears off of his face with the heel of her hand as if she isn’t crying too.

Emily names her, their daughter, claiming he had come up with the name Theo, so it was her turn. He remembers teasing her at first, asking just how many pages she had got into the baby name book before deciding on the name Amelia. She sheepishly admits it’s because she likes how it sounds with his name, how she’d always dreamt of the relationship he’d have with a daughter she never thought they’d get to have.

[they-call-me-hippie]

Finally finished Deltarune again (goodbye fleeting joy). This chapter did feel quite different from the first one - not just from the setting!

The Spade King is now making me go from :[ to :|

If the Queen is actually the girldad and not a StarWars joke I misunderstood I'm actually a bit disappointed in the design choice. There's very little about her that conveys she's a robot beyond the robotic visor, and even less so that she's a Darkner. I wish she could have been more imposing like some fan designs, or at least more rotund!

I do like her regal music though; it's nice to hear such a classical genre of "whatever that is (plinky)".

And the Swatchlings are such cute buddies! Their reactions to the mouse was a charming little moment

Also all the implied romance in this game is Stressing Me Out. I'm Simply Too Aromantic For This. Sometimes I worried that I had to make sure Not to accidentally imply romantic feelings where I've only seen friendships, because what if it's important for future chapter choices????

I'm glad we get Seam and music boys shop buddies :D

I wish I could have seen more of goat dad though D: Asgore you may cause many awkward interactions with Toriel but you are always Father

KRIS???? KRIS???? KRIS????? YOU?????????¿

[madamecricket]

Fourth (and Final) Impressions of Deltarune Chapter 2

Edit: forgot to put a readmore. Forgive me! Spoilers under the cut!

- So I wasn’t even in the palace very long before we got to a series of puzzles that Berdly couldn’t solve, much to his frustration. I figured Berdly was building up to something, either a boss fight or a growth moment, and it was the second one. Turns out when you thrive off of praise, you develop a bit of a dependency... good on him to be self-aware.

- In the flashback sequence with the spelling bee, I noticed the word Noelle got nervous and stuck on - “December”. See, I remember another sequence in the city where we had a character moment with Noelle while pressing a series of switches that spelled out “December.” Clearly the word is significant to her in some way, and probably a negative way considering how it made her freeze up. Either something big happened in December, or something big happened involving a person close to her named December, since I remember her mentioning a “Dess”. I’m looking forward to where this goes.

- The theme in the Queen’s palace slaps, just gotta say that before we go further.

- So backtracking a bit, Lancer has been stone-ified, and Ralsei knows exactly what’s up: the dark fountains create worlds, the dark fountains that was sustaining Lancer’s world is gone, and that’s why Lancer is stone now. He’ll be fine, though, if we can get him back to Ralsei’s castle town and the fountain there. Good of him to offer a solution, except...

- ... hold the fuck up, Ralsei. So you’re telling me that this happened to Lancer because of the loss of his dark fountain - which Ralsei encouraged us to go through - and because of that, the Dark World that Lancer comes from is no more? And what’s more, Lancer now depends on the Castle Town fountain - that is, Ralsei’s fountain - to live. He is now life-bound to your town, Ralsei. He literally cannot leave you and still live, and even if he could, the world he knew is gone. Oh, but it’s ok, because you conveniently have a place for him to live under your roof now. 

- And, hold on, who was it who told us we had to go through the Dark Fountain to get home?? I played through the first chapter just recently, that was you, Ralsei. I definitely remember Ralsei saying we had to do that, he gave us that quest in the first place, and I definitely do not remember him mentioning at any point that this would end with Lancer’s world being destroyed. This is absolutely not fine, Ralsei. Oh, and considering how conveniently us getting isekai’d in the library lines up with Ralsei suddenly insisting we had to go and do homework... Ralsei, are you the one isekai-ing us???

- *deep breath* Okay. I’m calling it now. There’s something Ralsei isn’t telling us. I joked earlier about how he wants to bake us into cakes and eat us, but to be clear, I think whatever’s going on here is more complicated than “Ralsei was the bad guy all along”. I get the feeling that Ralsei’s desire for friendship, especially towards Kris, is very genuine. It’s just... this whole situation is reminding me of Asriel’s deal in Undertale. Fitting considering the whole anagram situation... I wonder how Deltarune!Asriel is going to play into this.

- Okay, back to more current stuff in the game. I met up with Roulsx Kaard (idc how to spell it) again and he’s facing me in... the thrashing machine I made in the first chapter. I’m serious. Same color and everything, holy shit.

- behold the majesty

- COMETH FORTH, MY SQUEAKY DUCKY!!!

- ...whut?

- this is excellent. I’m going to die of excellent.

- ohh, now he’s gonna transform... aaaaand...

- oh. ... you know, I wondered when it was gonna catch up to him?

- ice cold, Ralsei. Ice cold.

- “Why don’t we close our eyes and imagine how she’s doing now” Just like last game... is Ralsei actually activating some kind of power when this happens?

- “I wish Dess could see this”? I knew it! I’m on to something!

- taking a moment to acknowledge the shipping energy in the air

- Noelle (paraphrased): “Where are we, anyway?” Me: say “Dark World” Susie: “You’re just having a dream” Again with Susie thwarting player intentions...

- .. a heart-covered Ferris Wheel. Okay, Toby Fox, we’re doing this now!

- Susie has a tail???

- BERDLY WHAT

- And again, we return from a Susie Sequence to Ralsei apparently explaining something to Kris and finishing with a variation of “so that’s why-” before getting cut off by Susie. What are you explaining, Ralsei.

- Checked a calendar in Noelle’s palace room. “Every page is the last month, every day is the 25th”... what??

- another banger of a final battle!! let’s do this!!!

- See, I had a feeling that the Queen didn’t actually want to hurt anybody, but she has a... funny... idea of what constitutes helping. It clicks with her being basically a personified search engine - she literally wants nothing more than to give people what they want and make them happy, but she’s not always great at figuring that out based on what they search. She mentions Noelle’s “sad and lonely searches”... Noelle, honey, are you ok?

- Excuse me, Queen, this Dark World was created *today*? ... And it was created by the Knight... and I already suspect that Ralsei is “isekai-ing” us... Ralsei, are you the knight?

- New important info: “Lightners” are apparently necessary to create Dark Fountains due to their determination, and unlike Undertale, determination isn’t exclusive to humans

- BERDLY!!! BERDLY IS PUTTING THAT REDEMPTION ARC TO GOOD USE!!!

- ...

... this game just became perfect

- Oh hey, White Diamond, what’s up?

- “Oh Damn I Did Not Know That” WELL NOW YOU TELL US, RALSEI!

- Susie doesn’t have a tail? Make up your mind, game!!!

- Phew. Okay. Okay. The actual game part is over. Time to process some thoughts...

- So we’ve seen two Dark Worlds so far, Lancer’s world based on games (cards, checkers, etc) and the Queen’s world based on computers and the internet. The running theme I notice so far is escapism. During her fight, the Queen monologued about a desire to fulfill the desires of people who turn to the internet to dull their pain or look for new distractions. And as for Lancer’s world... well, it’s implied to literally be made of abandoned toys. Both of them things people turn to when they need a little entertainment or escapism to avoid their real-life problems for a bit. And I think it’s been mentioned that Darkners are essentially made to serve Lightners; perhaps helping them cope with the difficulties of life? 

Even putting aside the symbolism here, Susie and Kris literally escaped to this world to blow off their classwork, and Susie in particular seems to think the Dark World is better than anything in the Light World. In the final battle, Susie, Noelle, AND Berdly were all just about to open up a Dark Fountain themselves and make themselves better lives in the Dark World and only stopped when Ralsei very firmly informed them about the Roaring. Is this going to come up again? Are these kids going to struggle with the temptation to abandon their real lives to go play eternally in the Dark World?

And isn’t that just a perfect microcosm of the relationship that people have with video games in general - including this one? The perfect opportunity to just forget about your own life for a bit and temporarily live in a different world altogether, one with battles and magic and adventure?

Just what the fuck is going on here, Ralsei? Was I too quick to accuse him of being a secret villain earlier? Is Ralsei just trying to get us to process our shit in the Dark World, and then destroy it so we move on to the Light World with renewed hope in life? .. or is he just trying to make himself the center of our fantasies?

- HOLY SHIT THE QUEEN IS HERE! THE QUEEN IS HERE AND SHE’S GONNA BE A MOM FOR LANCER!!! (or “girldad” as Lancer puts it)

- ...have the Queen and King met? I mean, it would make sense, but they haven’t been mentioned as having a relationship of any kind or even knowing each other. Is this another Toriel/Asgore kind of situation?

- HOLY SHIT I KNEW IT SHE IS HIS MOM

- So I’m just talking to NPCs around Castle Town, right, and I meet up with Seam again. He just told me to be careful not to stay in there too late and that I don’t want to get caught when the sun goes down... DAFUQ YOU MEAN, WHAT HAPPENS WHEN THE SUN GOES DOWN???

- This is wonderful, I’m now witnessing Toriel and Sans having a joke-off in person.

- (Sees Kris going in to wash their hands) (Hears Toriel say “they do that sometimes”) ...so Kris has like... a condition? The heart-ripping thing has happened before?

- (Sees last thing before credits) ...okay then!!! I think that’s all the things I can get into one post, haha! Forgot to mention some things, but I can only type so much!!! Can’t wait to talk about this later, haha!!! (holy shit)

[shhhhhskars]

Okay imagine early stage relationship stage, like they’re post-dating and committed and chilling at home late at night w green tea, and they end up talking baby names?

This whole ask made me soft. Thank you for sending it ♡

There was something so satisfying about a massive, rousing late June thunderstorm, especially the ones that carried on into the thick of the night, when they were up entirely too late for their own good in the first place. The storm was so loud, and so sudden, almost a bit eerie, if it wasn’t for the setting she was in, and how good she felt right now.

There was an element about thunderstorms that made her feel so calm and collected. At one with nature, maybe. The sound of the rain, violently pattering on her window...it gave the apartment a cozy intimacy that she lived for. Made her feel small, and humble. Thankful for the little two bedroom Village apartment that sheltered them from it, and for the soft, creme throw Alexander had wrapped nimbly around her shoulders.

Alexander had cooked dinner tonight, baked salmon and couscous, and she had cleaned the dishes and put on the kettle. Their usual balancing act with their domestic duties. They were full, satisfied, and sleep was unable to find them. The Netflix home screen sat idly on their television.

Alexander was standing in front of her, trying to make his point.

“Okay, wait. Let me confirm. You’re telling me...you want girls?” she straightened her back, tugging the blanket further over her shoulders, fingers curled around the terra cotta colored mug.

He took a deep inhale to prep himself to correct her, closing his eyes.

“No. I said, I don’t mind, either way. But...if I absolutely had to choose, like had to, had to...then a girl.” He was smiling too hard since the conversation started, and he was doing that thing he always did- desperately trying to fight against the grin, and he always failed terribly.

She blew on her tea the entire time he spoke, a mix of drama and amusement on her face as she gazed at him. The thought of Alexander with a chunky, bouncy baby-girl was almost too much to handle. It was hard to take her seriously, and he all but rolled his eyes at the goofy look on her face.

She brought the ceramic mug to her lips, taking a generous gulp of the tea when he was done explaining. She smiled, resting it on a coaster on the industrial coffee table in front of her.

“You’d be a cute dad, you know.” you affirmed with a confident little chuckle, laying back on the couch, settling in, imaging the sight. “I can see you as a girldad.”

Was he...blushing?

“Mmm...girldad? Is that the term for it now?” he rubbed his hand on the back of his neck, trying to downplay the flush on his face, his eyes twinkling with clear delight.

When she nodded, without hesitation, he beamed. “If you have only girls...or mostly girls, you’re a girldad.” she explained briefly. He sipped from his mug with a smile, before resting it next to hers on the table. He made his way on the couch next to her, snuggling up by the crook of her neck.

“What do you like...name wise?” he questioned, leaving a lazy kiss on her collarbone before pulling his face out of her neck to gaze at her, a soft, curious look on his face.

“Uhm. I shuttle one. You let me know? Then we switch, yeah?” she offered.

Fair game, he nodded, accepting the challenge.

“Uh...Stacey?”

“No.” he said flatly. “Elle?”

She shifted her head, left to right. “Ehhh...maybe? How about...Aria.”

“Have a cousin named Aria. Wouldn’t be right. Hmm....Avery?” he suggested, laying his head carefully on her chest.

He brought his large palm to her belly, gently resting it on there. She let out a small sigh, from the feeling of his warm hand on her womb, and she gently left a kiss on the top of his head.

He was curled up like a giant lap cat on her side, and it was the most relaxing thing she had experienced with him thus far. She briefly mused over the fact that they were throwing around baby names, as if it was nothing for them. There was a comfort that wafted between them, an energy exchange that made her feel at ease.

“I like Avery. I like androgynous names for little girls.” she said with a little shrug. Alexander was rubbing smalls circles on her tummy, his fingers tracing the cotton material of her t-shirt. He nodded firmly, and she felt him smile on her, delighted they had something in common. He agreed. “Me too.” He rubbed his nose against her chest and she sighed from the sensation, the pure intimacy of the moment- the cracking of the thunder briefly interrupting their conversation.

She snuggled closer to him, locking her small hand in his. She tangled her fingers with his, his hands were smooth, but firm, a bit rough. “Whatever we name her...it has to...feel right, you know? I think when you see them, you just...know.” she muttered. The fascination of bringing a small human into the world crossed her mind. It was terrifying, the core of it, but there was this maternal part of her that craved it. Perhaps it was being around this much older man, in his forties, that brought it out even more in her. She could feel her ovaries lancing to hear him so confidently shuttle off baby names.

She felt herself shiver, she couldn’t deny the nerves she felt in her belly, even though they had been seeing each other exclusively for some time now. The idea of giving this man babies...building a home with him. It was all too soon to converse so openly about...yet it felt normal, natural even.

Alexander raised his head from her chest and nodded, pausing his tummy rubs. She pouted at the cease in movement, elbowing him a little so he could continue. “Yeah, you’re right. But...just having a few options for when they do decide to show up...not a bad idea, kid.” he offered, gently moving his hands over her belly again. She giggled at his persistence, now she was blushing profusely. “Babies don’t just show up, sir.” she gently reminded him, and he chuckled, scoffing a little, licking his lips.

“Can we make a list?” he blurted suddenly. There was a notable pause after he said it, as if he wondered if he was doing too much too soon, or if she would reject him- but she smiled, so warmly, that it traveled from her lips all the way up to her eyes. She nodded with a small chuckle. “Yeah. Let’s make a list, my love. Go get the iPad.”

[lakersworld]

‘My beloved Kobe’: Lower Merion coach Gregg Downer pens essay on Kobe Bryant’s passing.⁣

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My favorite sports moments came during the 20 years of soaking up every second of my idol’s — my hero’s — Lakers career. My beloved Kobe Bryant.⁣

⁣For two decades, I kept West Coast time as Kobe ascended to greatness and perfected what he’d started at Lower Merion. I learned to get by on five hours of sleep while Kobe became the greatest champion and most feared competitor of his generation.⁣

⁣I saw Kobe’s air balls in Utah, his buzzer-beaters, his 81-point game, the rings and near misses. I witnessed his absolute greatness as a player. And I did so with immense pride, recalling the journey we took together to win a state title in Lower Merion, a journey in which he taught me how to win and pushed me to be the best coach I could be.⁣

⁣When asked by some stray reporter for the 50th time if I would ever have another Kobe Bryant, the answer was simple, and it will always be the same: absolutely no way.⁣

The moments we spent together were even more special. I shot free throws with him at the old Forum before practices. I swam and ate a few meals with him at his house overlooking the Pacific. I traveled to games all over the country, including the Finals series against Indiana, Orlando, Boston, and, of course, Philly. We exchanged e-mails about strategy. I worked his basketball camps. I introduced him annually to current Aces players.⁣

⁣And in a private moment, deep in the halls of Lower Merion High School, he became one of the first to know a dream of mine was about to come true. My beautiful wife, Colleen, was pregnant. We stopped in front of Room 225 for an embrace I will never forget. He was so happy for me. And I was so happy he was there.⁣

My father died, at 89, last fall. He also watched 20 years of Kobe’s play — 24, if you include high school — and it helped strengthen the bond between us. Dad would tape the late games and watch them in the morning. If we felt Kobe had an off night, we simply erased the DVR.⁣

Every morning, when I called my dad, most conversations would start with "Did you see what Kobe did last night?” I can’t imagine Dad’s shock when Kobe entered heaven on Jan. 26. I hope they are buddies and watching old game tapes together.⁣

The memorial at Staples was a Mount Rushmore of basketball experiences. If the premise had been different, if the celebration had been for lives present instead of lives past, it would have been the pinnacle of my career.⁣

⁣I’d been looking forward to that moment at next summer’s Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame induction. It would have been a joyous reunion and the moment of a basketball lifetime for a scrawny kid from Media, Pa., who never could have imagined he’d one day coach the NBA’s biggest and brightest star.⁣

⁣At the memorial ceremony, I hugged Kobe’s sisters and parents tight, and the tears never stopped. Vanessa’s speech was one of courage, resilience, and leadership. Although I don’t know her, I was so proud of her. Kobe would have loved her toughness and resolve and would have demanded she fight on for their three other daughters.⁣

With the world hanging on her every word, Vanessa gave a beautiful, intimate remembrance of Kobe and Gianna. Diana Taurasi and Sabrina Ionescu symbolized Kobe’s immense pride and passion in being a #girldad and made it clear that Gianna was developing into another Mamba. They thought that she would one day be in the WNBA. This was not idle speculation. Gianna could have been whatever she wanted to be and had the perfect father to guide her dreams.⁣

⁣I knew before many that Kobe’s real dream was to be the next Michael Jordan. We talked about it often as he developed from age 13 to 17, and you could clearly see it in his mannerisms, his imitations. Michael was a huge part of his identity.⁣

Jordan’s speech was iconic, just like the man himself. With tears pouring down his face, the ever-so-stoic and prideful Jordan — he of the six championship rings Kobe so relentlessly chased — acknowledged that Kobe was his little brother and that Kobe was an amazing player. Kobe had to have been smiling ear to ear from the heavens as his hero validated his greatness and gave him his due. I hope Kobe and Gianna shared that incredible moment.⁣

Most have no idea the work that went into Kobe’s chase of Michael’s acceptance and full respect. And I’m sure Kobe still wants M.J. one-on-one when he eventually joins him in heaven. Michael had better remember to bring his sneakers.⁣

The speeches have ended, but for me the essential question still remains: How do I move forward from this horrific tragedy? I am a teacher, coach, father, and husband. I, like many, am not sure I have the answers right now.⁣

Memories and flashbacks are everywhere at Lower Merion. Ten months each year, six days a week, I coach in the gym Kobe built. He can pop into my head at any moment. One morning, I spontaneously dropped and did 24 push ups for no apparent reason.⁣

Kobe needs his high school coach to be strong. My current players need it. My students need it. I need to continue to affect players and students in a positive way, as I’ve been trying my best to do for 30 years. Kobe needs me to stand tall and sharpen my resolve. The ceremony helped, but I miss my hero immensely.⁣

⁣I have a beautiful 7-year old daughter named Brynn Riley. She is my pride and joy. Every time Kobe saw her, he picked her up and hugged her tight. We smiled ear to ear, as did Brynn. He held her like his own.⁣

The “girl dad” movement Kobe ignited is something that now feels tangible to me. Maybe that’s the lasting connection to Kobe I need. Brynn comes to my games. She alternates between cheerleading and actually helping coach the team. She brings a clipboard. She comes to the film studies and all the pep talks. Her favorite activity after big wins is soaking her dad with water during locker-room parties. She recently made her first basket on a 10-foot hoop and completed two weeks of my summer basketball camp without complaint.⁣

We swim together, have sleepovers by the fireplace, do gymnastics, soccer, and baseball together. And recently, our favorite activity is our own version of backyard NFL football: Eagles vs. Patriots. Much to our delight, the Eagles always win, even if her extra points are a little low off the back fence. We laugh together and cry together through all aspects of life.⁣

⁣Like any parent, I want Brynn to have a great, successful, healthy life. She can be whatever she wants to be, and I want more than anything else to be the girl dad who helps and guides her through the good and bad. Kobe’s love for his girls, his legacy as a father, strengthens me. The bond we shared in raising our daughters is the greatest gift of our relationship. It’s what inspires me most.⁣

My players know I like to choose short phrases and collections of words to motivate and guide us during the season. I am going to focus on three words for my own motivation and peace of mind: courage, resilience, and love. Coaches need a game plan. For the first time since Jan. 26, I feel I have one.⁣

⁣

Gregg Downer as told to Mike Sielski | via Inquirer ⁣

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