#she deserved all the love the world could give her

[joelsgreys]

a safe haven l ten

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

series masterlist l previous chapter l next chapter

summary: After a long night, Joel and Ellie take you home.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. (TW) THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS MENTIONS OF DOMESTIC VIOLENCE, MENTIONS OF AN INJURY SUSTAINED FROM AN ACT OF DOMESTIC VIOLENCE, PREGNANCY, CONVERSATIONS SURROUNDING PREGNANCY LOSS . PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS. Ellie and reader are very close to each other, Joel deals with feelings of guilt, Joel and Maria make nice, Joel gives reader a bath and washes her hair, food consumption (i am just gonna apologize to my lactose intolerant folks right now, trust me i must pretend with you), both reader and Joel have some big feelings, reader mentions her deceased father, angst, soft and domestic Joel, fluff.

word count: 5k

a/n: i have not updated this series since october. :l i feel a a mixed bag of emotions updating after all this time, but most of all, i am grateful to know there are a couple of people out there who are still invested in this story. to anyone who has been waiting: truly, it means the world that you have shown me patience, support, and kindness. believe me, i am going to be seeing this story to the end, and it is all thanks to those who continue to show this lil story of mine a whole lotta love. special shoutout to the loveliest human @mrsmando who made me this beautiful mooodboard every single time i got stuck during this chapter, i looked at it and it gave me the boost of inspiration i needed. thank you mimi <33 this chapter is fairly tame, the next chapter is already in the works, and there are a couple of time jumps coming. overall, we are down to the last handful of chapters. let’s finish this story and give these two the ending they deserve, shall we?

“What the hell is taking Tommy so fucking long?” Ellie whines. She’s sprawled out on the couch with her head in your lap, and her arm draped over her eyes. Her feet are hanging, dangling over the edge of the couch at an odd angle after you’d warned her not to get muck from her sneakers on the linen fabric. Despite Joel insisting over and over that she head on back to the house, she had stubbornly refused, not wanting to leave your side. “It’s been over two hours! He’s taking fucking forever, man. What’s the fucking hold up?”

Joel bites back a sigh, masking his own impatience. Or at least, he tries. He’s grown just as restless as the kid, if not more. Much like Ellie, he’s desperate. He’s itching to take you home already, almost too anxious to watch you take that first step over his threshold, and into your new life with him and with Ellie. He aches, aches, to get you settled into the place where you would be spending the remainder of your days with one another, where you would be safe, and loved in the way you deserved to be loved—the place where he would cherish and adore you until his final breath.

“Don’t know,” he answers, his voice sounding rougher, more gruff than usual. Reaching up, he scrubs his hand down the side of his face, adding tiredly, “He might be a while longer, kiddo. It could be another hour, could be more. Like I already told you, s’probably best if you just go on and head back to the house without us, alright?”

“No. I’m not walking out that fucking door unless she’s with me.” She pauses and pulls her arm away from her face for a moment, just long enough to throw a teeny glare his way. “Unless you’re both with me. The three of us go home together, or it’s no fucking deal. Got it?”

He shakes his head in utter exasperation.

“Ellie, we’ll be right here down the fuckin’ road—”

Her hand shoots out and she flips him off.

Just when he’s about to chastise her, he stops himself, clamping his mouth shut. It’s pointless.

Kid’s too goddamn hard headed for her own good, and Joel knows he’s just wasting his breath with her.

“I’m sure he’ll be back soon,” you reassure them both, weaving your fingers through her hair to scratch at her scalp in an effort to soothe her. “Right, Joel?”

He meets your exhausted, worn down gaze from where he’s standing across the room, and his heart lurches in his chest. As the guilt begins creeping in, he’s forced to look away. He can’t imagine the living hell you had been through over the last twenty four hours alone. And the worst part about it was the realization that last night, while he was fast asleep in bed just a couple of houses up the road, that fucking bastard had his belt wrapped around your throat.

Joel feels sick to his fucking stomach all over again.

Horrifying, vividly real images of you helplessly trapped underneath Luke scratching and clawing at the leather around your neck with trembling fingers, struggling to breathe oxygen into your burning lungs as he tugged it tighter and tighter through the buckle flash in his mind, a gruesome nightmare turned into reality.

Exactly how far had Luke taken it?

Until you had grown too weak to keep fighting?

Until you almost lost complete consciousness?

Until he noticed the life threatening to leave your eyes?

Is that when he had finally stopped pulling on the belt?

Joel shudders, a bitter taste climbing up his throat as it sinks in. He could have lost you—and his unborn child.

This shouldn’t have happened.

He shouldn’t have let you walk away that night.

This wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t let you walk away from him that night.

“Joel,” you say his name, quiet and weary.

His head snaps back in your direction and he glances at you, almost missing the subtle shake of your head. It is a silent warning telling him not to go there, though you know by the tight clench of his jaw it’s too late for that.

Joel makes the futile attempt to hide it, but he sees it written all over your face—you know what he’s thinking because you know him like the back of your own hand, and you just know he’s placing all of the blame for what happened to you on his own shoulders.

But can you honestly fault him for that?

How can you expect him not to feel like he is somehow responsible for this? Just how the hell is he supposed to make himself believe he hadn’t failed you?

Joel promised—he had fucking promised you—that he wouldn’t let anything bad happen to you. He had sworn to keep you safe, made a vow to protect you from Luke, but here you are, your soft, delicate flesh marred with the painful evidence of yet another one of his failures.

And it was all because he had let you walk away on that fucking night.

He should have done something.

Even if it meant running the risk of you never speaking to him again—even if you never forgave him, spent the rest of your life angry and hating him for going against your wishes. He should have something.

“Joel—”

“Be right back,” he mutters, lightly shaking his head.

Shoving away from the doorframe he’s leaning against, Joel pivots on the heel of his boot and starts down the hallway. He walks into the kitchen where he finds Maria standing at the counter, tapping her fingers against the smooth, laminated oakwood as she waits for the coffee she’d offered him a few minutes ago to finish brewing. She’d offered to whip up a quick supper, but food was the last thing on everyone’s mind.

“Tommy’s been gone for a couple hours now. Girls are startin’ to get real tired of just sittin’ around waitin’ for him to come back,” he tells her, exhaling the sigh he’d held back in the living room. “What do you think could be keepin’ him so long?”

With her back still to him, Maria reminds him, “Well, he did mention he was going to round up the council and get them together for an emergency meeting.” She lets out a sigh that matches his own—it’s been a long night for her, too. When the last drop of dark roast drips into the glass pot, she carefully takes the pot by the plastic handle and pours the steaming coffee into a speckled, white and blue ceramic mug. “Do you take it with milk and sugar?”

“No thanks, that’s alright,” he declines as politely as he can.

“I also have cinnamon if you’d like?”

“Plain black’s just fine.” He gives her a nod of gratitude when she hands it to him. “Thank you. And I don’t just mean the coffee, but for, uh—for bandagin’ up my hand for me, too.” He clocks the brief look of surprise on her face and almost laughs. He doesn’t blame her for being taken aback, because truth be told, so is he. Since he’d met Maria, he had known she didn’t trust him as far as she could throw him. There was something of a mutual understanding between them, a silent agreement they had made to keep each other at arm’s length, to only interact when it was absolutely necessary.

Never did he think he would be standing in her kitchen, thanking her for patching up his hand, and for making him a cup of coffee out of the kindness of her heart.

His brother wouldn’t believe it.

“Don’t mention it.” Crossing her arms over her chest, she leans back against the counter. “How’s it feel, by the way?”

“S’fine,” he replies, shrugging. “Nothin’ I can’t handle.”

There’s a momentary silence. A taste of tension lingers over their heads, and he knows at one point or another, he’s going to have to address the affair, the very reason everything had unfolded in such a terrible manner.

Guess now’s as good a time as fuckin’ any, he thinks to himself with an inward sigh.

Joel lightly clears his throat. “Listen, since we’ve got a minute alone, just the two of us, I was wonderin’ if, uh—if we could talk ‘bout somethin’? If that’s alright?”

“Of course.” Maria gives him the floor.

“I know that she—” Pausing, he shuffles from the heel of one boot to the other, his ears burning hot. He had known it wouldn’t be an easy conversation to have, but he underestimated just how uncomfortable it would be, regardless of what she already knew. “I know she told you and Tommy all ‘bout us, and ‘bout our relationship. See, the thing is, the first time I saw her—”

Again, Joel stops, the burning sensation now radiating, spreading from his ears to his face and down his neck, flushing his skin a deep, deep shade of pink. Unable to meet his sister in law’s gaze, he glances down into his mug, as if he will somehow find the right words to say somewhere in the depths of his coffee.

“It was never my intention, y’know,” he finally says after a minute. “Goin’ after a married woman. I swear, I never meant to fall for her. I just fuckin’ did. I think I might’ve fallen for her long before I even met her,” he confesses. He feels himself darken to a shade of maroon under her curious stare. “And somehow, for reasons I ain’t all too sure I’ll ever understand, she fell for me too.”

Maria raises an eyebrow at him. “Look, I’m not judging you, Joel,” she assures him, shaking her head. “If that’s what you’re thinking. I’m not judging her, either.”

He looks up at her, blurting out, “You’re not?”

She moves her hands to cradle her swollen middle. “Do I wish you two had handled everything differently?” she answers her own query with a nod of her head. “Oh, I’m sure we all do. But I’ve known her for a long time now. I know the kind of woman she is. And I’m starting to see the kind of man you are.”

“And what kinda man is that, Maria?”

He waits without the slightest clue as to what she could possibly say.

“Since you came back to Jackson, I’ve chosen to keep my distance from you—but make no mistake, I’ve been watching you like a hawk since day one. Waiting for any signs of trouble. Waiting for you to fuck up. Waiting for you to give me a good reason to throw your ass out of this community because I didn’t trust you. Not after all the things I was told about you.”

He snorts. “You goin’ somewhere with this?”

“You are not who I thought you were,” Maria admits, smiling wryly. “I’ve gotten to see a different side of you. You pull your weight around here by doing your job and doing it well. You stay out of trouble—for the most part. And more importantly, I have seen the way that you’ve stepped up to be a father figure to Ellie. It takes a good man to do that, Joel.”

“Think that’s the nicest fuckin’ thing you’ve ever said to me,” he muses, setting his mug down on the counter. “I stepped up because I love her. I love them both. Those two, they’re the best parts of me. They’re the reasons I keep goin’ and now I’ve got another reason on the way.”

Maria smiles, but it vanishes as quickly as it appears.

Catching her hesitance, Joel asks, “What? What is it?”

“What comes next is not going to be easy,” she warns him, lowering her voice. Even with the living room a fair distance from the kitchen, she doesn’t want to run the risk of you overhearing her. “For as hard as we’re going to try to contain the fire, it will spread, and everyone in this town will find out about everything—including the affair. People are going to talk, and believe me, they’re going to have a whole lot to say about it, Joel.”

He can’t help but roll his eyes at her.

“Think I can handle some fuckin’ gossip, Maria.”

“I know you can. But I’m not sure if she can,” Maria tells him, quietly. “It worries me. She’s been through a lot in just one night alone. I don’t want her stressing anymore than she already has. She is in a very delicate stage of her pregnancy right now, Joel. If she’s not careful, she could have a miscarriage. She had one about two years ago when her father became sick—” Observing his lack of a reaction, she realizes, “You knew that already.”

“Yeah,” he sighs. He knows where she’s going with this. “I did. She told me ‘bout it.”

“It makes her chances of having another one higher—”

Joel doesn’t even allow himself to think of it happening to you again. “I get it,” he interjects, trying not to sound too curt. “I’ll make sure she takes it real easy, alright?”

Lifting a hand off her belly, she reaches out and takes a hold of his forearm, gripping it tightly.

“Promise me something, Joel. Promise me that you’ll look after her,” Maria pleads him, gently. “Please. After everything she’s been through—I need you to promise me that she’s going to be in good hands with you.”

He nods. Without thinking, he places his hand over hers in an unexpected token of affection and reassurance. “You have my word, Maria. I’ll take good care of her.”

She gives his arm a grateful squeeze, then glances over his shoulder at the clock on the wall. “It’s getting pretty late. We don’t know how much longer Tommy’s going to be with the council. Why don’t we just go ahead and call it a night?” she suggests. “We can all get together first thing in the morning at your place to talk about it.”

“Yeah, good idea,” he agrees. “She really needs to rest.”

Maria gives his arm another squeeze. 

“Go on then, Joel. Take your girls home.”

“Finally!” Ellie exclaims with a dramatic flail of her arms as she shoves through the front door.

“Alright, kiddo. Get your behind upstairs and into the shower,” Joel instructs her, flipping on the lights in the foyer. “Y’smell like fuckin’ horse shit.”

She lifts the collar of her shirt to her nose, takes a whiff, and makes a face. “Yeah, I won’t argue with you there,” she mutters. She toes off her dirty sneakers and leaves them beside the door before dashing up the staircase, taking two steps at a time.

He shouts after her, “And don’t use up all the hot—”

“Yeah, yeah, I fucking know the rules, dude!”

Moments later, you both hear the shower going.

“Little shit,” he grumbles.

You exhale an amused huff through your nose.

Joel withdraws his arm from around your shoulders and reaches for your hand, lacing your fingers together. “C’mon, darlin’.” He guides you up the stairs and down the hallway into his bedroom where he switches on the light before proceeding to lead you over to his dresser. “I’ve got a bunch of shirts in this top drawer here,” he says. Dropping your hand, he pulls it open for you and gestures to it with a jut of his chin as he takes a step backwards, moving out of the way. “Go ahead and pick one to sleep in tonight. Want you to be comfortable, so help yourself to whichever one you want, sweet girl.”

Nodding, you begin to rummage through the drawer, unaware of the moment he slips away. You reach for a t-shirt, but then a plaid green flannel catches your eye. You pluck it from the drawer, running your fingers over the soft, warm fabric. “Is it alright if I wear—?” You turn around, stopping mid sentence when you realize he’s no longer standing behind you. Puzzled, you follow the sound of running water into the bathroom where you find him kneeling beside the tub. “Joel? What are you doing?”

“Runnin’ you a bath.”

You notice the bloodied bandage beside him on the tile floor. “Joel, are you serious?” you scold him. “Maria just patched your hand up for you.”

“S’okay, peach. I can rewrap it when we’re done.” Joel sticks his injured hand under the faucet to check the temperature, the cold water soothing his cuts. Once it turns warm, then hot, he pulls out his hand, waiting for the tub to fill halfway before shutting the faucet off and rising to his feet. “C’mere, sweetheart.” He rolls the sleeves of his shirt up to his forearms, then beckons for you with both of his hands. “Let’s get you washed up.”

You remain standing by the door. “Joel, you don’t have to do this for me.”

“I know.”

“I’m capable of washing myself—”

“Yeah, I know that too,” he says, chuckling. “S’only fair, darlin’. Don’t you think?”

That’s when it hits you—how this moment is mirroring that night you had cleaned Joel up after you and Ellie had brought him home from the clinic with an injured shoulder. He allowed you to take care of him, and now, he was looking to do the same for you. And all you had to do was let him.

“But your hand—”

“Will be just fine,” Joel persists, stubbornly. “It’s nothin’ but a few cuts and scrapes. C’mon—or else I’m gonna march right over there and get you myself, peach.”

Knowing Joel, you certainly wouldn’t put it past him to throw you over his should and carry you to the bathtub.

“Fine,” you relent with a small sigh of defeat.

Setting his shirt down on the sink, you slowly walk over towards him and whirl around, letting him help you out of your knitted cardigan. You finish undressing yourself, inhaling a deep breath as you muster up the courage to turn back around and face him—when you finally do, it feels like a punch to the gut to see the heartbreak in his dark brown eyes, the subtle tremble of his bottom lip. You don’t have to look at yourself in the mirror to know it looks about a hundred times worse when you’re not wearing clothes.

Keeping your arms down at your sides, you fight every urge to cover yourself up. You’ve never felt so fucking vulnerable.

Clearing his throat, Joel holds out his hand. “C’mere.”

You accept it, and he helps you into the tub.

“How’s the water? S’not too hot, is it?”

You shake your head and he leans forward, kissing your temple so sweetly, your eyes flutter closed.

He washes your hair first, then takes a clean washcloth, lathering it up with a bar of milk and honey soap—the same soap he would smell on your skin all those nights. Admittedly, Joel preferred castile soap, but switched it when he found himself missing you during those weeks you were apart from him, when he needed the comfort of your scent. He is gentle with you, so gentle, as if he’s afraid you’ll shatter into pieces in his hands.

As he lightly drags the washcloth up your back and around your neck, you stiffen, prompting him to freeze too. “Fuck. Baby, did I hurt you?” he asks, and you hear the slight panic in his tone.

“No,” you say quickly, desperately trying to swallow the lump rising in your throat. “No, you didn’t hurt me. It’s just—” Every overwhelming emotion slams into you all at once, and you can’t seem to figure out which one to feel first. Humiliation? Fear? Relief?

The water sloshes around you as you pull your legs up to your chest and wrap your arms around your knees, giving yourself permission to feel them all. Bowing your head, you begin to sob quietly, hoping that Ellie, who is just down the hallway, won’t hear you crying again.

Joel says nothing. Washcloth still clutched in his hand, he leans forward over the edge of the tub and wraps his arms around you, pulling you close, or at least, as close as the barrier between the two of you will allow him.

“Joel,” you choke, trying to push him off. “Stop it. Your clothes, they’re getting all wet.”

“Hush. Don’t fuckin’ care ‘bout my clothes,” he croaks, and for a second, you swear he’s about to cry too. But he doesn’t. He holds himself strong. Tugging you closer against his chest, he buries his nose into your soaking wet hair, whispering his reassurance. “You’re okay, baby. You’re safe, my sweet girl. I’ve got you, alright?”

He pulls back slightly, dipping his hand into the water, placing it on your lower belly.

You look down, your eyes glazing over his bruised and battered knuckles. Proof that Joel Miller really would do anything for you.

“I know you do,” you say, softly. “I know you’ve got me, Joel.”

A while later, you’re dried, dressed, and composed. You follow Joel out of the bathroom and back into his room, where he has you take a seat on the bed. Noticing you had missed a button on his flannel shirt, he does it for you. He plants a kiss on the top of your head and says, “Give me a minute while I change.”

He peels off his wet clothes, being careful so as not to further agitate his sore, injured hand. After changing into a pair of gray sweatpants and an old, faded black t-shirt, he turns around only to find you’re sitting in bed underneath the covers.

“Sorry,” you apologize with a nervous chuckle as you rest your back against the headboard. “It just looked so warm and cozy—and it smells like you. I couldn’t resist making myself comfortable.”

Joel pads over to the side of the bed. He leans over, planting one hand on either side of you as he dips his head and brushes his lips against yours. “Ain’t got no reason to apologize, baby,” he assures you in a gentle murmur. “This is your bed now too, peach. This is your room. This is your home. Alright?”

Home.

You’re home.

He touches the tip of his nose to yours, and then draws himself back up to full height. “There’s somethin’ that I’ve gotta take care of downstairs, peach. I won’t be too long,” he promises.

It’s almost midnight. Joel goes about the kitchen and he prepares you the quickest meal that he can think of. He plates the sandwich he’d thrown together and pours a glass of cow’s milk—he’s always sure to keep a pint of it in the refrigerator to make the kid her oatmeal in the mornings.

He heads back upstairs, only to find that while he had been gone, Ellie had joined you, making herself a little too comfortable on his side of the bed. He stands there at the door, watching the two of you.

“Hey, so is it true babies can hear stuff while they’re in there?” Ellie questions you, curiously.

“Mhm,” you reply with a nod. “They can hear music, for example. Voices—”

“Voices?” She smushes her face into your stomach and he hears a muffled, “Hey, dude!”

You giggle. “Ellie, I think it’s still a little too early.”

“When do you think it’ll be able to hear me?”

“I’m not too sure. In a few months, maybe?”

Ellie lifts her head, humming. “You know, I bet there’s baby books in the library,” she tells you as she sits up. “I’ll have Dina help me look for one tommor—oh shit.” She stares at you with wide eyes. “Dina! How are you going to tell her and Talia about Luke?”

Joel grimaces. He hadn’t thought of that, either.

“I—I’m not too sure.”

“You have to fucking tell them. Dina has to know about him. She has to know what a piece of shit he is, and so does Talia.”

Sensing your discomfort, Joel steps into the bedroom and intervenes before she can say another word. “Ellie, get to bed. S’late.”

“But—”

“Don’t make me tell you again,” he warns her, sternly.

She huffs, rolling her eyes. “Fine.” She climbs off the bed and on her way out, she eyes the plate in his hand. “That chicken?”

“Turkey. And it ain’t for you, it’s for her. So scram, kid.”

“Couldn’t have made me one while you were at it, old man?”

“Ellie, if you don’t get outta here right now—”

“Alright!” Ellie holds her hands up. “I’m leaving. Jesus.”

She disappears, closing the door behind her.

“Pain in my ass,” Joel mumbles, shaking his head as he walks over and carefully perches himself beside you. He hands you the plate. “Here, darlin’.”

“Joel, I appreciate this, but I’m really not very hungry.”

“Maybe not, but y’gotta eat,” he insists. “Baby needs it.”

Thankfully, you accept it without further protest.

“I’ll have Ellie get your things tomorrow,” Joel states as you’re eating. “Maria can go along with her since she knows the house. They’ll get your clothes and whatever else you might need outta there.”

“My father’s belongings.” You accidentally talk through a mouthful of turkey and bread. Swallowing, you tell him, “I have some boxes of his stuff in the basement. But they’re way too heavy for either of them to carry.”

“I’ll take care of that for you.” He reaches up, wiping a breadcrumb from the corner of your mouth with his thumb. “I can ask Tommy to give me a hand. Don’t you worry, peach. We won’t leave your dad’s things behind, I swear it.”

Relieved, you shoot him a grateful look, then polish off the last few bites of your sandwich.

“Here,” he says, offering you the glass of milk. “Figured it’s good for you, and good for the baby. Y’know, since it’s got calcium and…stuff.” He shrugs sheepishly, no clue as to what he’s talking about. “Vitamins, right?”

Nodding, you grab the glass and take a reluctant sip.

“You hate milk,” Joel realizes, raising an eyebrow.

“I do,” you admit with a laugh. “But you’re right. It’s good for both me and the baby, so cheers.” And with that, you somehow force the entire glass down.

He sets the dishes aside on the nightstand, figuring he can take them downstairs first thing in the morning.

Without bothering to rebandage his hand like he’d told you he would, Joel turns off the lights and climbs into bed with you. “All those nights wishin’ I could bring you home,” he muses as you curl into his side. “Wantin’ nothin’ more than to hold you in my arms in this bed. In our bed.” His arm slips around your shoulders, a laugh rumbling through his chest. “Almost doesn’t feel real, darlin’.”

Tilting your head, you nuzzle your nose into the scruff of his beard, prompting him to laugh again. Then, he remembers his conversation with Maria, and his smile fades from his face, his lips pursing together.

You catch the sudden shift in his demeanor.

“Joel? What’s the matter?”

“M’fine, baby. It’s just—” He hesitates. “From this point forward, I need you to let me handle things.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t want you gettin’ all stressed out, alright? I don’t want to run the risk of you—” He’s unsure of how to say it.

“Of me losing the baby,” you finish for him, quietly.

Joel winces, knowing he was wandering into sensitive territory. “Yeah. I—I really don’t want that to happen.” He pauses. “Maria mentioned to me you’re in a delicate stage. When do you reckon you’ll stop—how long until you don’t gotta worry ‘bout it?”

“After twelve weeks, my risk isn’t as high. If I make it to the second trimester in six weeks, then my chances of having another miscarriage are lower.”

Though you speak calmly, he clocks your anxiousness.

You’re worried, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t fucking worried out of his mind too.

Being a father at his age wasn’t ideal, but he wanted this child. It was part of him, and more importantly, it was a part of you.

Joel squeezes your shoulders. “I only ask ‘cause I was thinkin’ that, y’know, once we get to that point, maybe I can go ahead and start buildin’ the baby’s crib.”

“You’re going to build the crib?”

He nods. “And the highchair too. I can even make you a diaper changin’ table if y’want one.”

“Joel.” You can’t help but chuckle. “Our worlds were just turned completely upside down. You just found out that I’m pregnant, and you’re already thinking about building furniture? Aren’t we getting a little ahead of ourselves?”

“Hey, those things take a whole ‘lotta time,” he says in defense of himself. “Besides, winter’s right around the corner and I don’t wanna be out in the garage freezin’ my fuckin’ ass off. If I can get a head start now, I can have them all done in the spring by the time the baby comes.”

You fall silent.

“What’s on your mind?”

“I’m really scared of losing it,” you confess. “When I first took that pregnancy test, I wanted nothing more for it to be negative. Now, I’m terrified I won’t make it past my first trimester again. I really don’t want to lose it. I want this baby, Joel.”

He turns his head, meeting your eyes in the silver light shining through the lace curtains over his window. “S’why you’ve gotta let me handle things, darlin’. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“C’mere, my sweet girl.” Joel presses his lips to yours, murmuring against them, “I love you.”

His declaration comes with natural ease.

And so does yours.

“I love you too, Joel.”

[thatscarletflycatcher]

Thinking again about the darknesses that lurk underneath the surface of Sense and Sensibility (I have talked before about how Edward despite being the eldest is subjected to what we can argue is emotional and financial abuse by his family for years, and how the Dashwood women are disinherited on a whim of their great uncle), and this time specifically about the Brandons.

We get so little about them, and what we do get about them is all bad:

This lady was one of my nearest relations, an orphan from her infancy, and under the guardianship of my father... At seventeen she was lost to me for ever. She was married—married against her inclination to my brother. Her fortune was large, and our family estate much encumbered. And this, I fear, is all that can be said for the conduct of one, who was at once her uncle and guardian. My brother did not deserve her; he did not even love her... I have never told you how this was brought on. We were within a few hours of eloping together for Scotland. The treachery, or the folly, of my cousin’s maid betrayed us. I was banished to the house of a relation far distant, and she was allowed no liberty, no society, no amusement, till my father’s point was gained... My brother had no regard for her; his pleasures were not what they ought to have been, and from the first he treated her unkindly.

Mr Brandon Sr is shown to us as being a greedy man, a bad administrator of his estate, and a cruel father. His first son seems cut of the same cloth, and his pleasures were not what they ought to have been is one of the most, if not the most sinister line between all the Austen novels. But there's more about him!:

Her legal allowance was not adequate to her fortune, nor sufficient for her comfortable maintenance, and I learnt from my brother that the power of receiving it had been made over some months before to another person. He imagined, and calmly could he imagine it, that her extravagance, and consequent distress, had obliged her to dispose of it for some immediate relief.

The Brandons were married for two years; the colonel returns to England and starts looking for her 3 years later. Young Eliza was then a 3 year old toddler. We are obliquely told that Brandon cut all ties with his brother:

It was a valued, a precious trust to me; and gladly would I have discharged it in the strictest sense, by watching over her education myself, had the nature of our situations allowed it; but I had no family, no home; and my little Eliza was therefore placed at school. I saw her there whenever I could, and after the death of my brother, (which happened about five years ago, and which left to me the possession of the family property,) she visited me at Delaford.

Eliza is now 17, so the eldest brother died when she was 14, which is 16 years after his marriage with the older Eliza. In that period of time, he managed to squander the whole of her fortune, and put the estate in debt again, as we are told earlier on by Mrs Jennings:

Poor man! I am afraid his circumstances may be bad. The estate at Delaford was never reckoned more than two thousand a year, and his brother left everything sadly involved. I do think he must have been sent for about money matters, for what else can it be? I wonder whether it is so. I would give anything to know the truth of it. Perhaps it is about Miss Williams and, by the bye, I dare say it is, because he looked so conscious when I mentioned her. May be she is ill in town; nothing in the world more likely, for I have a notion she is always rather sickly. I would lay any wager it is about Miss Williams. It is not so very likely he should be distressed in his circumstances now, for he is a very prudent man, and to be sure must have cleared the estate by this time. I wonder what it can be! May be his sister is worse at Avignon, and has sent for him over. His setting off in such a hurry seems very like it. Well, I wish him out of all his trouble with all my heart, and a good wife into the bargain.”

We know the Bennets, with five daughters, and without a saving mindset, still manage to live very comfortably with 2000 a year, and if they had had any mind to save money, they could have provided all five of them with decent dowries/money enough to keep them out of poverty when their father died if they were single. It is clearly not that the money isn't enough, or that Delaford is an unproductive estate; in fact, it is described to us as almost paradisiac:

Delaford is a nice place, I can tell you; exactly what I call a nice old fashioned place, full of comforts and conveniences; quite shut in with great garden walls that are covered with the best fruit-trees in the country; and such a mulberry tree in one corner! Lord! how Charlotte and I did stuff the only time we were there! Then, there is a dove-cote, some delightful stew-ponds, and a very pretty canal; and every thing, in short, that one could wish for; and, moreover, it is close to the church, and only a quarter of a mile from the turnpike-road, so ’tis never dull, for if you only go and sit up in an old yew arbour behind the house, you may see all the carriages that pass along. Oh! ’tis a nice place! A butcher hard by in the village, and the parsonage-house within a stone’s throw. To my fancy, a thousand times prettier than Barton Park, where they are forced to send three miles for their meat, and have not a neighbour nearer than your mother.

One interesting character, though forgotten because only mentioned in passing, is the Brandon sister. On one of the quotes above we get that she's in Avignon for her health, and we know her husband is wealthy (and probably abroad with her) because it is his estate that the planned picnic is for:

A party was formed this evening for going on the following day to see a very fine place about twelve miles from Barton, belonging to a brother-in-law of Colonel Brandon, without whose interest it could not be seen, as the proprietor, who was then abroad, had left strict orders on that head. The grounds were declared to be highly beautiful, and Sir John, who was particularly warm in their praise, might be allowed to be a tolerable judge, for he had formed parties to visit them, at least, twice every summer for the last ten years. They contained a noble piece of water; a sail on which was to form a great part of the morning’s amusement; cold provisions were to be taken, open carriages only to be employed, and every thing conducted in the usual style of a complete party of pleasure.

It is implied that Brandon and his BIL are in very good terms (and we know he's not afraid of cutting ties with bad relatives), and one can safely guess that at the very least he cares enough about his wife as to have her travel for her health. Another guess can be made about her getting married about 10 years before the events of the book. Whether she lived at home before that, or was at school or somewhere else, it isn't said.

But this way you can feel there's a parallel in a way, between the Brandons and the Tilneys: a greedy, cruel father, a son that follows on his steps, and a younger brother and sister managing the toxicity as best they can. Talking about this with @bad-at-names-and-faces, she brought up the idea that in that scheme, Cathy would be Eliza (if it wasn't her not being an orphan, or a rich heiress, and how that connects with Austen's line about Cathy not being born to be a heroine at the beginning of Northanger Abbey). Certainly part of it is the romantic gothicness of the Brandon backstory, united with NA's commentary on Gothic tropes, but to me it drove home with even greater force how such a situation would break a man; losing Cathy that way would have definitely broken Tilney, and if we had met him 14 years down the line, would he have appeared to the unacquainted much different than Brandon appeared to the Dashwood sisters?

[tomssexdoll]

When I was your man

PAIRINGS: Tom 2009 x Female reader CONTENT: ANGST + FLUFF + SMUT SYPNOSIS: Tom and Y/N broke up, after 2 years of dating she finally had enough of his shitty behaviour. Tom starts to see her everywhere and deeply regrets his actions, crying for you every night. One night he sees you at a bar, dancing with another man and he approaches you. A/N: inspired by when I was your man by bruno mars WARNINGS: dom! tom, sub!reader, eating out, alcohol mentions, fingering

Me and Y/N broke up a month ago, she couldn't deal with my shitty behaviour she said, complaining about how I treat her. When I refused to apologise she took her things and left, texting me later that we were over.

As soon as I saw her say that I burst into tears, realizing my shitty actions towards her.

I went to bed that night but it didn't feel right. It was the same bed but it felt just a little bit bigger, more empty without her, cold and lonely.

I hear our song on the radio but it doesn't sound the same. The song we had our first kiss to, lost our virginities to, countless of memories wasted all because of me.

When my friends talk about her all it does is just tear me down, cause my heart breaks a little when I hear her name.

I've been super depressed after the breakup, not being able to sleep properly and not eating. All I wanted was her, to hold her, caress her soft skin, kiss and appreciate her. But she was gone, and I didn't know how long it'd be until I could have her in my arms again.

My pride, my ego, my needs and my selfish ways, caused a good strong woman like her to walk out of my life, and it haunts me everytime I close my eyes.

I couldn't just set my selfishness down for a second, I was a fucking idiot, treating the kindest and most beautiful girl like shit, disregarding her feelings, gaslighting her and neglecting her. I looked at twitter, seeing headlines of her with another guy.

I sobbed and sobbed, crying my eyes out, seeing her already moved on. I knew I deserved it but I wanted her back so badly, she was my everything, my baby, my world. I wish I could turn back time and just start all over again, make her feel like the only girl in the world, make her feel special and loved.

One day I decided to go to a bar and drink my sorrows away, running out of all the alcohol in my house that I drowned myself in. I sat down, ordering a couple shots of whiskey, downing them within seconds.

I turned around to see everyone dancing, sweaty bodies pressed up against each other, making me remember the special moments we shared in this bar, tears welled up in my eyes again.

Then suddenly I saw her, Y/N was there, she was so beautiful, so stunning. Her features glowing from the flashing lights, curves showing off in her sexy dress. My baby was dancing like she loved to do, but she was dancing with another man, he smiled at her, holding her close and kissing her gently.

My eyes widened and I stared there in shock, it felt like the world stopped, like everything went silent. She swayed her hips, grinding into him. She looked like she was having so much fun.

I stepped closer, the lights now hitting me. She turned and looked at me, her eyes widening and her movements haltering. We just stared at each other for a while, she eventually rolled her eyes and excused herself, walking off. I ran after her, calling out for her.

Eventually I grabbed onto her arm, looking down at her "baby..please" I choked out a sob, she pushed me off "get off me Tom, I told you we're over.." she mumbled, not being able to look me in the eyes.

I noticed how she quickly wiped a tear from her cheek, I grabbed her chin and lifted it to look at me, "I know im probably much too late, to try and apologise for my mistakes" I sighed "but i just want you to know, I hope he buys you flowers and holds your hand, gives you all his hours, take you to every party cause i remember how much you loved to dance, do all the things i've should've done..when i was your man.."

Tears welled up in her eyes, she hugged me tightly and sobbed into my chest, "oh tom..I missed you so much" I smiled and stroked her hair. "Let's go outside baby..talk about things better, hm?" I mumbled against her hair, she nodded and took my hand, leading my outside and leaving the guy she was with.

We walked to my car and got in, blasting the heating. "He's not with me or anything..i've been hooking up with him for like 2 weeks and I figured paparazzi might have been there to take photos and make you jealous.." she crossed her arms, frowning.

"I deserve it though, I treated you badly baby, you didn't deserve to go through what you did" I held her hand, rubbing my thumb over the skin softly, "maybe you can give me another chance? I swear I'll change baby, it won't be like the other times, I need to prove to you that I can change, I can be a better man for you" I started to cry again, she winced and got onto my lap, wiping my tears away and kissing me softly.

"I'm an idiot for forgiving you again..but fuck you seem so sincere.." she sighed, smiling softly. "I'll do anything for you baby, name it and i'll do it, I just can't lose you" I said, my voice shaky, rough with emotion.

"I haven't been able to function without you, you complete my world" I caressed her cheek. "Let's go home, I'm tired of living out of a shitty hotel" she giggled, climbing into the passanger seat again.

As we got home she rushed in, running onto our shared bed, "fuck..how I missed this bed" she rolled around in it, I smiled and walked in, laying next to her.

"Tom..?" she turned to me, "yes schatz?" I pulled her closer, looking down at her. "Why did you treat me so badly?" her question hit hard, I didn't really know myself. "Uh..I don't know..I was just stupid and I didn't appreciate the wonderful woman I had in front of me, I was a little intimidated, you were way too good for me and I just thought sabotaging everything would make it better, which now I see was fucking stupid" I groaned, rubbing my temples in frustration.

"I'm just glad you eventually saw how it affected me, I missed you a lot I will admit but I was also hurt and I still am" I nodded, "I know baby..and I'm so sorry, I wish I could take back all the pain" I said, reaching out and grabbing her hips, rubbing them softly.

"You know I'd do anything for you, I would take a bullet straight through my brain just to prove my love to you." She chuckled "baby..chill out" I smirked "sorry..I just want you to know how much I love and appreciate you"

She climbed on top of me, tracing my features with her delicate fingers. "There will be no sunlight if I lose you baby, just like the clouds my eyes will do the same, if you walk away everyday it'll rain" I kissed her softly, she smiled "Tom that's beautiful.." she whispered and kissed me back.

I flipped us over, me hovering over her. "Let me give you the love you deserve, make you feel beautiful.." she nodded and slowly unbuttoned her shirt, revealing black lacey bra.

My head dove into her chest, kissing and sucking softly.

She moaned softly, delicate sounds coming out of her beautiful lips. I reached down and removed her skirt. Her beautiful figure underneath me.

My fingers traced her curves softly, appreciating her beauty. "So, so beautiful..my angel" I whispered, kissing down her stomach and planting a soft kiss on her panties, her hips bucking up slightly.

"Tom..don't tease" she whined, I chuckled and slid her panties off, bending her legs and prying her thighs apart, licking a stripe on her folds, collecting her juices.

I slowly lapped my tongue onto her her clit, sucking softly, "mm!" she moaned loudly, gripping onto the sheets tightly. I smirked, happy to see her so pleasured.

I sneaked my hand up, entering 2 digits into her wetness, stretching her out. "Oh fuck!" she groaned as my fingers curled at her g spot, "is it good baby?" I teased, she nodded and screwed her eyes shut, focusing on the pleasure.

My fingers found their rhythm inside her, thrusting in and out. I could feel her release slowly approaching, her breath coming in short gasps. I increased the pressure on her clit, sucking harder as I felt her about to climax.

I could tell I was driving her wild, her head lolled back and her eyes were tightly shut, legs slightly trembling. "Cum for me baby.." I moaned on her clit, slobbering all over it.

I felt her pussy clench against my fingers as she came hard, a loud high pitched moan leaving her mouth. "So good.." I chuckled, licking up all her juices and climbing up to hover over her again.

I grabbed my clothed erection, "do you want it baby?" she nodded quickly, grabbing at my pants and shoving them off. I grinned at her urgency, pulling my cock out of my boxers and pumping it a few times.

"Can't wait to be inside you again.." I groaned, pressing my tip at her entrance, slowly pushing in. It had been a while since we last fucked, her "hookups" obviously not as big as me.

She cried out, holding onto me tightly, "fuck!", I dragged my hand down to her clit, rubbing slow circles to let her relax. I felt her pussy unclench on my cock, finally being able to thrust in better.

I slowly thrusted, gradually picking up my pace so I didn't hurt her.

Eventually my cock was pounding into her, my grip tight on her hips, holding her into place. "Fuck..so tight" I groaned, my head rolling back.

"Mmm! Fuck!" she moaned, feeling my tip hit her g spot, I leaned down and started to suck her nipples softly, earning a loud groan from her. My tongue swirled against her sensitive buds, making her throw her head back.

"Cum for me pretty girl.." I grunted, picking up my pace again and slamming into her, the tension building in my stomach as I felt my release approach, nails digging into her hips.

"Mmh! Oh shit!" she cried out, wrapping her arms around me and holding me close, her pussy clenching around my cock, increasing the amount of pleasure I was recieving.

I felt her body shudder under me, her orgasm washing over her and her juices painting my cock, I groaned and came inside her, shooting my load deep into her and making sure to keep thrusting so it could stay in.

I sighed and collapsed on top of her, cock still buried deep inside her hole. "I missed you so much baby..I swear i'll never ever hurt you again, I was so stupid to treat you that way" I winced "please forgive me and take me back.." she frowned at my pain, kissing me softly.

"I know you're sorry baby, it'll take a while for me to trust you again but we can try one more time, don't blow it" she sighed, I sighed in relief, peppering kisses all over her face and flipping us over so that she was on top of my chest, "get some rest baby" I whispered into her hair.

tags: @itsmealaiah @tomkaulitzloverr @tomscumdump @tomscumdoll @bkaulitzlover @ballhair @estxkios @ge-billsgf @charliesgoodboy

[awesome-normal-heroes]

Why Dipper is so loved, while Mabel is a broken base...

I'm not the biggest Mabel fan, but even I believe that all the hate that Mabel sometimes gets is too much...

Why do almost half of the fans get angry at a little girl, while praising a little boy?

Well, we're gonna find out!

*You see during the beginning of Gravity Falls, we get the idea that Mabel is supposed to be the optimistic heart of the duo, while Dipper is the cynical brain of the team.

*And for a while it was like that, but then came the episode of Mabel teaming up with Grunkle Stan to laugh at Dipper's lack of manliness.

*Which was the first of a bunch of episodes where Mabel (sometimes with Stan) treating Dipper somewhat unfairly.

*Teaming up with Stan to make fun of Dipper for being slightly shorter than her, not trying to help Dipper create a plan that will allow her to keep Waddles and prevent Dipper from accidentally giving Wendy a black eye, taking a picture of Dipper giving reverse CPR to Mabel's mermaid boyfriend to use for blackmail later, laughing at Bill shooting a hole through her brother (I know it's a dream, but still...), getting angry at Dipper for refusing to help Stan (cause Dipper believed that Stan hates him; Mabel could've at least been more sympathetic before going to help Stan)... almost giving away Dipper's journal to Bill (to impress a guy with her play), choosing to trust Stan over her brother (even though the portal could destroy the universe), then afterwards refuses to play his board game and even makes fun of it with Stan (which results in Dipper spending time with Ford), getting jealous that Dipper is spending more time with Ford then with her (which she caused), proceeds to make fun of Dipper again when he calmly calls her out on her teasing, she feels guilty but doesn't give a proper apology (something that even Stan does), gets upset at Dipper for wanting to become Ford's apprentice and stay at Gravity Falls, willingly gives Bill the device that almost ends the world and nobody finds out about it (I know she was tricked but still), refuses to leave her giant bubble until Dipper finally agrees to come home with her and creates a radical brother that would have a 'more supportive attitude'.

*I personally think that Mabel did the right thing by trusting Stan in the end, so Ford could be rescued... the portal still could've destroyed the universe, if Stan had miscalculated something.

*I'm also angrier at Stan for the mocking Dipper times, cause Mabel was a child and children don't know better sometimes, but Stan is an adult and he knows what it's like to be made fun of and yet he still does it to Dipper... no wonder Dipper briefly believed that Stan hated him... and no wonder Ford quickly became Dipper's Favorite Grunkle.

*As for accidentally almost starting the apocalypse, I don't completely blame Mabel for what happened, but the other characters deserved to know the truth and I'm surprised that Bill didn't tell them to cause drama.

*When all these things are stacked together, it's not a pretty picture.

While in comparison to Dipper, the brother is actually already quite supportive:

*Saves Mabel from gnomes despite Mabel yelling at him, he was willing to break up with Gideon for Mabel, he gave up his chance to be with Wendy twice to make Mabel happy, he doesn't make fun of Mabel's flaws, he comforts Mabel when she's sad, he helps Mabel whenever she asks for it (even when he doesn't like the thing that they're doing), he's always forgiving with Mabel, he's viciously protective of Mabel and gave up being Ford's apprentice to make Mabel happy.

*So, yeah the twins do have a bit of an all take, no give relationship... the writers could've handled it a little bit better.

*It doesn't help that Mabel technically does get called out on how she treats Dipper in Season 2, but the people that call her out are the Main Villain and a jerky unicorn, who are seen as in the wrong (but even the villains can make decent points sometimes)... Mabel had a chance to get proper character development and become a better sister after saving Dipper from Bill's possession... but Mabel doesn't really grow much as a person, not even during the finale... she's almost the same as she was during Season 1.

*Meanwhile with Dipper, he slowly becomes less cynical and socially awkward as well as braver and more kind-hearted over the course of the show... he even handled the fact that Wendy wants to simply remain friends beautifully... he still has a crush, but he respects her wishes.

*In contrast to Mabel, who keeps falling in love with guys and trying to force a romance, instead of letting it happen naturally or realizing that she doesn't need a boy to be happy... she also uses a love potion on Robbie and another girl to basically force them to get together and this is later seen as an okay thing (when Robbie hypnotizing Wendy with romantic music was seen as wrong).

*Even Stan and Ford go through a bit more character development then Mabel does.

*I think that's what truly bothers the fans... Dipper goes through character development, learns some lessons and slowly becomes a better person... while Mabel remains the same.

*Mabel isn't a horrible person... she's a fun, creative and energetic girl... but she wouldn't exactly be winning any 'Sister of the Year' Awards either.

*It's disappointing, because Mabel's character had so much potential... and the writers make her repeat the same mistakes... if they did handle Mabel's character better, she'd probably be almost as loved as Dipper.

[alitherandom]

Bad Batch is almost over so I'm going to ramble. If anyone can relate, please reply or reblog. Share what this show has meant to you, share your thoughts, share theories, tag people. Let's give it a send off.

Star Wars has been a massive part of my life for years.

I loved everything about the Clone Wars, the world building, the character development for the jedi, but most of all the clones. As someone who finds it hard to read faces, it was fun getting to know each of the clones as individuals with their own personalities and I actually never had any issues telling them apart. It hits hard, I think that's what makes their stories even more tragic.

Echo and Fives are my favourite Star Wars characters so I was really happy when Echo came back in Clone Wars season 7. That was why I decided to watch the Bad Batch- it then became my favourite series.

I'm not entirely sure what I'm going to do when this show ends. I think the hardest part is not knowing what the galaxy has in store for the batch and where it could go from here. Whatever happens I’ll always be grateful for the experiences I've had as part of this community over the last few years.

I think that's what's great about being part of a fandom. Seeing all the different ideas and projects that get put out there every day as well as knowing everyone else is in just as much suspense as I am. I haven't interacted on here that much until the last few months, but I check the tags a lot and all the fanart has been immaculate. The writers and artists are crazy talented and work so hard, I admire the level of dedication and aspire to be like that. 😂

I'm also really grateful for the three seasons we got with Clone Force 99.

Seeing Echo go from a shiny in the Clone Wars to becoming who he is now. (I could talk about that for ages, but I'll save that for another post.)

Seeing Crosshair regain his trust in the batch and get to change.

Seeing Hunter step up for his brothers and Omega.

Seeing more sides to Wrecker's strength.

Seeing Omega go from that kid who'd never seen dirt before to learning from her brothers and proving how brave she is.

And lastly, seeing Tech make the choice he did back in season 2. It wasn't easy to watch, because he deserved more time and there was definitely a massive hole in season 3 without him.

I'm not ready to say goodbye to any of them.

My favourite episodes in season 1 were the last few, when Kamino fell. It was the end of an era as well as a new beginning.

My favourite episode in season 2 was episode 8. I was really proud of Echo, plus he got a hug from Omega which I have admittedly rewatched far too many times.

My favourite episodes in season 3 were episodes 13 and 14. The stakes have been so high and it's been great seeing Echo's ARC skills in action again. (Plus the dialogue with Rampart was top tier. Hate that guy, but it was hilarious.)

I'm well aware of all the theories for the finale. I'm choosing to ignore most of them, but I’d like to present my own.

I hope Echo gets to finish what Fives started and the clones can finally be free, including Tech if he's CX2. I hope the batch gets to burn Tantiss to the ground and fly off into the sunset with Omega and the kids from the vault, and then I hope they continue a lifetime of bullying Rampart. I also hope Emerie gets to whack Hemlock with a steel chair, and then the Zillo beast can eat him.

…After all, Star Wars is based on hope, right?

If anyone actually ended up reading this to the end you're a real one- have a great final Bad Batch eve, and may the force be with you.

[thedeviltohisangel]

I hope we get an interlude abut the boys “vacation” in Africa since it’s longest (?) Cass and John would be apart since meeting so you know he’s driving the boys crazy talking about her and he won’t shut up until he sees her and the only reason he shuts up then is because he’s too busy kissing her

Ok so a little interlude about what Cass gets up to during this mission, a little bit about what John gets up to and their reunion is here.

I think my favorite part of the Africa mission is going to be him meeting her brother, Bobby.

She gives John a present and some letters and an updated photo of herself to give her brother and he takes the task so seriously. And Gale is like then why are you meeting her brother while you're in a fez?

But that is exactly how John meets his future brother-in-law for the first time. And he tells all the guys it's no big deal and he's got it in the bag and they're like then why are you sweating?

And Bobby does his best to be intimidating. But the last time he saw his sister she was crying because he was getting to escape and do something bigger with his life and she was stuck getting shoved into dresses and dragged around like a lifeless doll by Sidney Landry.

And when John speaks about Cass he can tell he worships her. He is smiling and blushing and hands him the gift like he's just delivered the Ark of the Covenant. And he reads the letter Cass has included and she tells Bobby that she thinks, no she scratches it out and rewrites it then crosses it out again, KNOWS that she loves him. And she prays her brother will too because John Egan has brought the color back to her cheeks and makes her giggle and she has never felt safer than she does in his arms.

Bobby asks around about John Egan and his sister. And the men groan and complain that they are lovesick doves just could stare into each other's eyes and just drift around the world happily. They tell him about John punching the RAF Pilot for even daring to mention her. Tell him about the sleep mumbling of his love.

About the way he held her after Berlin and how he brings her flowers every day.

So the last night in Africa, John summons the courage to ask Bobby if they can talk away from the group.

"I love your sister, Lieutenant Colonel Cooper. I've told her I'm in love with her. Told her I will protect her and provide for her as long as this universe will allow me to. She gives me a reason to live. A reason to fight for tomorrow and every day after because I want all the time in the world to be with her. I can never promise her forever but I can promise her my forever and I...I want to marry Cassandra when the time is right, sir. If that happens before I can meet your father, I'd like to have your blessing."

"My father, John, has been praying for a long time that a man like you would ask for his blessing to marry my sister." Cass had always been a wild thing. Mr. Cooper had been delighted with the way she challenged her mother. But he had lost the battle of preserving her independence any further than the turn of her twenties had brought. "I don't want to take that honor from him but I also want my sister to be happy. She deserves it more than anyone."

"I'll marry her everyday, sir. Your father will get the chance to give me his blessing. I promise."

"You have my blessing, Major. Just promise me you'll never try to cage her." John smiles blissfully.

"There is nothing about her I'd ever want to change."

[xysidhequeen]

Today I lost a dear member of my family, Rune. Rune was rushed to a vet today. Shortly after reaching the vet she had a seizure and her heart stopped, and could not be restarted.

Rune was 6 years old. My husband found her while working at Walmart. She was hiding under a pallet. He carefully coaxed her out and then kept her in the manager office in a box(with food and water!), which she broke out of. He then took her home in another box, which she broke out of again. We welcomed Rune happily into our lives and hearts. When we first got her we couldn't even tell her gender, so we decided on the name Rune. (She was obviously, now, a girl. She just had too much fluff)

Rune was a menace to society, my mental health and most especially our other cats. She loved to bully them if given a chance, and she'd scream for food if you stepped a single foot in the kitchen. She was the least graceful cat I've ever met in my life, and had maybe one singular braincell.

But she also loved being brushed so much she'd drool, loved feet, and would let you pick her up whenever you wanted and immediately begin purring. She didn't care if you cried in her fur, and would just keep purring and letting you cuddle her until you were done. She loved to cuddle, and would always find her way into someone's lap. She liked to cuddle with my friend Mavis when they went to bed, and watch videos with them. Even if you upset Rune, she'd never hurt you, her bites were the gentlest things I'd ever felt. Rune couldn't stand to hurt anyone, and even when she was at the vet, sick and probably in pain I'll never know, she never once tried to bite any of the vets or techs.

Rune had so much love to give(as long as you were human) and she would accept all of it back. She was a sweet thing, and I loved her so so very much. I watched her grow up, and she purred me through many a mental breakdown.

I have so many videos and photos of her, from every stage of her life. And the fact that I will never have any new videos of her antics, of her sweetness, has killed something inside of me. I'd trade so much to just get one last chance to cuddle her and hear her purr for me.

I wanted to share this, because Rune was my darling and I want everyone who possibly can to see her, and to know her and to mourn that she's gone now. She deserves to be loved, because that's all she ever wanted. There was no such thing as too much love to her.

So please, send her your love. She deserves all of it, even if she's no longer around to enjoy it.

[pawphin]

long ramble in tags tldr: kindness rules

[vvanessaives]

nothing bad will ever happen to them for sure fo4 events holding a giant bat: yea sure :)

template + El belongs to amazing @devilbrakers

[creatureshrieks]

sorry my final girls are on my mind because it's the trope of all time. it's being a victim of a fate you do not deserve, that you have done nothing to deserve, that by simply being you you are someone that the world wants to suffer, it wants to see you die. it wants to take everything from you because it knows it can. you will be tortured, you will lose so, so much, and you will persist. because you have to. it's becoming someone corrupted, the hero of the story but never making it out unscathed. it's carrying scars, it's carrying the trauma, it's looking at the worst darkness and knowing it has looked back. it's carrying it with you, feeling it cling to you and refusing to let you go. To be transformed by forces you can not control. To lose yourself to save yourself. It is embodying parts of the monster you want to kill. It's knowing that you will always be connected, no matter how far you run. You do not end a story the way you started.

And you will ever be the same again.

[ziracona]

God, the, “You really believe, don’t you? In freedom, in Mages. In good spirits and bad Templars. With more fire than the sun,” was such a defining quote about Anders. Yes. He really does. Utterly, and with more fire than the sun. It’s who he is, and not a breath of it is insincere. And I love that after seven years of him trying to reach her, still trying to reach her, Merrill at least finally understands him.

[thedeadthree]

POLINA (dceu/bop) // VIKTORIYA (cyberpunk 2077) // VERLAINE (the golden rose) // LAMIA (the fall) // MORGAINE (fnv) // LIRINWEN (the elder scrolls)

my dears @preachercuster and @adelaidedrubman tagged me to make the girls in this cutest picrew! thank u sm loves!

TAGGING: @griffin-wood, @blackreaches, @risingsh0t, @florbelles, @cobb-vanthss, @heroofpenamstan, @shellibisshe, @yennas, @nokstella, @belorage, @blissfulalchemist, @chuckhansen, @aceghosts, @leviiackrman, @marivenah, @lustyargonianmaid, @rosebarsoap and you! 🖤

[the-busy-ghost]

Benefits of audiobooks- I can listen to them while I work, and I am forced to hear and consider every word, rather than read at my usual flying pace, which means I don’t miss things as much and get a deeper and more sustained enjoyment from a really good book

Disadvantages of audiobooks- When there are emotional details they aren’t blunted by the fact that my uncontrolled eye is already skimming the next passages and there are some Emotions that are not appropriate for working hours

[literarylitoria]

pov of steve looking at the mcu's best hero!! (from @universalfanfic's fic)

[lixzey]

forever yours.

one two

Timothée Chalamet, cheating on Kylie Jenner? The Wonka actor was spotted kissing an unknown woman in Los Angeles!

You stared at the article on your phone, your hands shaking. You knew you shouldn't think about it; after all, you and Timothée have been dating for four years, and he loves you—only you. But nobody knew that, though. He was a world-famous actor, and you were someone who just so happened to have his heart. You two had decided to keep the relationship low-key and private, away from the chaotic world of Hollywood. Nobody outside of both of your families and friends knew who you were or what you looked like.

You sighed, plopping down on the bed in your boyfriend's apartment. You have been living with him for the last two years, and you loved every bit of it. Timothée was the sweetest boyfriend; he loved to spoil you. He gives you everything that you deserve and more—his words, not yours. You couldn't ask for anything more; you were happily content with the love of your life.

But you still can't brush off the fact that in this story, you were the bad guy. 

It all started in December 2022, when Timothée was forced to date Kylie Jenner. His management thought that it would be beneficial for him, seeing that Kylie was Forbes' youngest self-made billionaire and had tons of fans, maybe more than Timothée had. At first, your boyfriend was reluctant. He didn't want to date anyone else other than you. You two argued, but in the end, you convinced him that it would be good for his career. 

Timothée signed the contract, and he was obligated to date the youngest daughter of Kris Jenner. 

It started with little appearances like Kylie showing up at your home, and you had to leave or hide because there were paparazzis all over the perimeter of your house. Your boyfriend was absolutely apologetic that you had to pretend that you were not his, and it broke his heart to see you smile from the sidelines. 

You assured him that everything's alright. You were okay with everything, as long as, at the end of the day, he came back home to you. 

Some Timothée's fans were hopelessly praying that it was all some sort of PR stunt—which it actually was, but you signed a non-disclosure agreement. You had no choice but to keep it to yourself. Their 'relationship' went on and on, giving the people the benefit of the doubt. 

Until early September, when the PR team decided that it was time to make it public.

You were a little bit heartbroken when you saw it on social media. It was at Beyoncé's birthday concert, a celebrity-studded event, which made it the perfect opportunity to show off their relationship. The way Kylie Jenner had her hands all over your man made your blood boil. Timothée looked uncomfortable, but he didn't have any other choice. You wanted to go and just punch that plastic woman for having her claws all over your boyfriend, but you couldn't do anything. You hated it, but you couldn't bring yourself to admit it. Because if you did, Timothée would drop it before you could even say no. 

The way your boyfriend has his arms wrapped around that plastic bitch made you want to slap her and tear off all the plastic she had in her fake body. The way she kissed your man made you want to feed her to the sharks in the Atlantic Ocean. The way your boyfriend had his hand over her ass made you want to go and make a deal with the devil to rid the world of that woman, and maybe chop off your boyfriend's hands while you're at it. But again, you couldn't do a thing. You were left to watch while another woman pawed at your man. 

Timothée did everything to make it up to you. He would always assure you that it was all for show and nothing more. He loved you, only you, and he would never dream of hurting you. You knew that, of course, but you can't help getting annoyed by it—you won't tell him that though, because you couldn't. 

But now you were a homewrecker, a slut. 

Apparently, someone saw you and your boyfriend kissing. It was your fourth anniversary. Timothée had brought you to your favorite restaurant in Los Angeles and was enjoying the night, celebrating four years of love. After a bit of wine, he kissed you, like he always did—momentarily forgetting his 'girlfriend'. 

The next day, the photo of you and your boyfriend kissing was all over the internet. People were calling you a homewrecker, a slut, a whore, and more. You practically had death threats filling up semi-trucks. People were telling you who you are, and you didn't have a choice, all because you loved Timothée. 

All of this for what? Celebrating four years with the man you love? 

You buried your face in your hands, trying to muffle your sobs. You felt like the whole world was against you, like you were the villain in some twisted fairytale. What did you do to even deserve any of this? You just wanted to be with your man, but the world had other plans. 

“Mon amour? Are you here?” A voice echoed from downstairs. You wiped away the tears from your eyes, putting on another fake smile as you walked down. 

“Hey, love. Are you hungry?” You asked, voice breaking. Timothée looked at you, and you knew he knew something was wrong. You mentally kicked yourself for being so utterly stupid.

“What's wrong, mon amour?” Timothée asked, stepping forward and wrapping you in his arms. 

“Nothing, it's alright.” You lied. You were getting pretty good at lying, not that you were proud of it. 

Timothée sighed, his arms wrapping you tighter against his body. “Y/n, please, baby. I know something's wrong; you've been crying.” You could hear his heartbeat, the loud thumping in his chest calming you. You sighed loudly, burying your face into his chest, the smell of his cologne invading your nostrils. You pulled away abruptly, and the look of confusion on his face made your heart wrench inside your chest.

“I'm okay, don't worry.” 

Timothée cupped your face in his hands, your eyes meeting his. “Y/n, please, mon amour. Just tell me, I just want to help.” 

You took a deep breath. It was now or never. “Have you seen the tabloids?”

Timothée sighed, knowing it was about his fake relationship again. “Can you tell me what it is, baby? I'm sorry I haven't checked out the news.”

“It's just....it's silly, honestly.”

“It's not silly if it's bothering you, my love.” 

“Someone saw us kissing yesterday, and it's all over the tabloids.” you mumbled, your eyes glued to the floor. 

“Oh, baby,” Timothée whispered. “I'm so sorry; I dragged you into this. It's all my fault.” he muttered.

Your heart broke when he said it was his fault. It wasn't; it was the people who were quick to judge. “It isn't your fault, Tim.” 

“It is, baby. I shouldn't have agreed to that PR stunt. I should've just turned it down and spent all of my time with you instead-” You cut him off with your lips crashing with his. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to him as he deepened the kiss. You felt all of your worries evaporate into thin air, and all that mattered was him. The man you have spent four years with, the man you see a future with. 

You pulled away, making him growl as the feeling of your lips left his. You chuckled, kissing him on the cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you more, baby. But….” 

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “But what, baby?” You asked worriedly. 

“Can I see what the article says? And anything else related to it?” 

Your eyes widened slightly. It was one thing for you to read all of those horrid things people have written about you, but Timothée? He would break at the words people have said about you, and you couldn't live with him thinking his fans were horrible to the woman he loves. 

“Baby….” 

“Please, mon amour? You don't deserve to get all the hate.”

You playfully raised an eyebrow, trying to diffuse the tension. “Who said I was getting hate?” 

Timothée chuckled. “I know Hollywood.”

You let out a deep sigh as you rubbed your temples. “It's horrible, mon amour.” 

“I don't care; I still love you no matter what.” 

“You really want to read it?”

“Yes, I do.” 

You opened your phone and showed him one of the videos on TikTok about the articles. 

timmyfan1: omg timmy cheated on kylie with her? yuck, homewrecker. 

kyliestan_: such a slut, going after someone else's boyfriend.

timotheestan: die bitch

– timobaby: yeah, go die in a ditch you slut. 

– kyjennerbaby: not timothée's fans wanting the girl to die 😭

timotheechalamalabingbong: not timothée throwing away his relationship and career for this girl 😭 

kyliebaby: poor kylie, got her heart broken by this douchebag

jennersisters: anyone want to help me find that girl and slap the shit outta her?

– user1: count me in! 

– user2: me too! i'm gonna drag that little bitch down 

“I'm so sorry, mon amour,” Timothée whispered as he turned the phone off. “You don't deserve any of this.” 

You smiled sadly at him. “I know, but this is nothing.”

“No, it's not nothing. They want you to die, and that's not okay…” 

“I don't have any plans on dying, Timmy.” You chuckled. 

"But…but...”

"No buts. I know it hurts, but we have to live with it. I have to live with it. You'll just have to focus on your career, okay?” 

Timothée sighed in defeat. “You're the most precious person in this world; you don't deserve this.”

“And you know it.” You smiled, grabbing his hand in yours. “I don't care about their words anymore, as long as I have you.”

“I don't deserve you.” 

“You do; you deserve me and more.” You chuckled, kissing his knuckles. “I love you, no matter what.”

“I love you, Y/n, I love you so fucking much.” Timothée planted a soft kiss on your lips before pulling you again to his chest. “I'm yours, forever yours.”

You sighed contentedly, melting at his touch, feeling comfort and love in your boyfriend's arms. The only thing that mattered in that moment was you and him; no one could ever take away your happiness. 

Your boyfriend, your Timothée, yours. 

@helens3amstuff @gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @lovemelikecrazyiloveyoucrazy @tchalamss @tchalamss @ashlynnmalfoy @crazycat-ladys-blog @michakune @mxltifxnd0m @spencerr3idd @dangelnleif @sthkate @ferrjulie @imnotoverlyobsessive @mel-vaz @elsagreeer @lovely-maryj @meowmeowmau @bobthe-turmpetman29 @saintcosette

[amaranthineghost]

THE MIGHTY HAS FALLEN (BUT YOU'LL RISE AGAIN, LOVE) ( max verstappen. )

max verstappen x reader

after a tough race cut short, max pushes away any person around him, but not her. never her. she always picks up the pieces to put him back together.

authors note: I love max. I know he's not the self-deprecating typa guy, but in this, he is, OKAY. charles is after this <333

HE WAS A BOMB. the fuse getting shorter and shorter every minute that his patience was tested. everything around him seemed to irritate him more and more as he tried to keep himself from exploding, for pr's sake.

he just wanted to avoid the media all together, for obvious reasons, but he was contractually obligated to give his words to the journalists under the media tent. putting him under a microscope and asking questions that had an undertone of scrutiny in hopes of catching him break. he was close, but he wouldn’t.

it hadn’t even been a fault of his own, he rarely made those anymore. the car had caught fire, but not due to a mistake he had made, and even if it had been, he wouldn't have admitted it anyways. still he felt the guilt of his lack of performance, beating himself up after every question asked about his car and what had happened.

it was just stupid. the questions were stupid. the car was stupid. this whole race was stupid.

the pressure to perform, even in the best car on the grid, was high. despite his seat being secured for plenty of years to come, he still had expectations to meet and records to break.

it was obvious to everyone that max was hard on himself every time he didn't perform his best, his girlfriend especially noticing when she’d find him in his very luxurious driver's room sulking at even the slightest of a mistake made by him.

it didn't happen often, but when it did, she'd been there for him. he knew that.

he wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole and never be seen again because world champions don't make stupid mistakes.

even if this hadn't been a mistake he made, he should've known. even if there was no possible way he could’ve, he should've.

he was raised to believe that he was only deserving if he had been first, that he was destined to fail after every second place or worse finish.

so it wasn't surprising when he thought he didn't deserve her. in comparison, or more like his eyes, she was simply perfect.

and she understood him, which not many people could because he wouldn't let anyone pick apart his brain like she did.

he locked his thoughts and feelings in the dark that shrouded his mind from early childhood trauma. he promised he would never let anyone see.

but he was never great at keeping such promises because it hadn't taken much for her to pick the lock to his brain. even though he wasn't ready to spill every detail of his upbringing to her, he trusted her.

and he didn't get to do that all too often.

the media had been brutal—he knew they would be—and yet it still crushed his mentality and faith in himself.

with his race suit around his waist despite having time to change beforehand, he walked through the paddock in shame at the early retirement.

it wasn't like this determined the outcome of his career because the next race, he'd be back on top. he didn't feel so sure of it though because all his thoughts were on this failure. what if he failed the next race?

what if he failed the whole season? what if he fails her?

unlikely, the people know, but he had so much confidence which had so easily crumbled when it got a little too hot. he wasn't sure of himself anymore.

anyone could see the turmoil bubbling underneath his skin, harsh waves crashing in the ocean of his blue eyes as he pushed past anyone and everyone.

the walk through the paddock was short, considering the red bull motorhome was the first of ten. max hastily entered through the automatic doors, skipping steps as he was eager to hide out in his driver's room.

he felt the eyes of the staff follow him down the hall until he disappeared quickly around the corner. he didn't want to be seen by anyone.

the door to his driver's room closed as fast as it was opened, but much louder. she heard the slam of the door echo down the hallway.

she didn't flinch, she just calmly greeted staff with smiles and left a bag of sweets on the table for them. she always brought something for the team, to celebrate every victory and despite this not being one, they still deserved it for working hard.

since she had gotten there not too long after him, she lingered around the lobby. she didn't want to be waiting around for him to show up and have him brush her off because he wasn't in the right headspace.

he would never mean to dismiss her, and she knew to give him at least a little time to himself to think and process things. she couldn't give him too much time though because she didn't want his self-deprecating thoughts to eat away at his confidence.

from what she analyzed from the staff and their demeanor, he'd probably caught them off guard when he slammed his door.

she wouldn't apologize for his behavior because she would make him do it when he cooled down.

so she hung around and made small talk with the sparse staff around to allow max a few minutes to himself before excusing herself down the hall.

she had a bomb to defuse after all.

the clack of her heels on the hard floors bounced off the walls, but she walked quietly enough so max didn't hear her coming. he knew she would though. he knew she would find him with his head in his hands, barely covered in sweat because he didn't race for more than three laps.

his face was still flush with disappointment though. he didn't want her to see him like this even though she was with him during his last disappointing race, but even though his singaporean grand prix finish wasn't great, at least he hadn't been out of the race.

max hadn't DNF’d in two years because he was simply just that good, and he still is. he just didn't feel like it.

his hands pressed so hard against his eyes, the blood vessels in them would have popped if he pushed any harder. he had taken off his red bull hat, he felt he didn't deserve the number one right now. it was thrown lazily onto the makeshift bed in his driver's room.

the room was practically silent, every so often interrupted by a deep sigh of disappointment that escaped his lips. he had sat there for a good couple or minutes, sulking.

when she reached his door, she held the bouquet of flowers she always got for him close to her body with one arm while she raised the other to knock. her hand only slightly hesitated before her fist made contact with the door and a few seconds later, she tried entering. it was locked, which was usual whenever he was brooding.

at first, when max heard the knock, he thought of all the people last on his list that he would want to see right now, but on the bottom of the list was the person he wanted to avoid the most right now.

his dad.

their relationship was rocky. he never supported max at any place unless it was on the very top of the podium, and even then max thought he looked unpleasant.

“go away,” was all max could mutter through his hands as his heart started to pick up the pace.

she sighed, shaking her head with a smile pulling at her lips, “max.” it was all she needed to say.

part of him didn't want to let her in, he didn't want her to see him like this, but he knew she was just as stubborn as him, if not more. he knew she would stand there all day if he didn't open the door to let her in.

and he would always let her in.

she heard the low creak of the sofa she could imagine him sitting on, but not his footsteps while he made his way to the door. she only knew he heard her when the lock clicked and the door slowly opened inwards to reveal the red-faced max verstappen.

she stood staring at him, her head tilted as she studied his face. he didn't move, he just watched her eyes dart around his appearance, and he felt himself getting hot under his fireproofs.

“are you going to let me in, verstappen?” she teased, a sly smile on her lips as she watched her boyfriend roll his eyes.

he scoffed, stepping aside, “don't call me that.”

“what?” she acted innocent, stepping into his driver's room with the fresh flowers, seeing the already prepped vase, “don't call you by your name?”

“you know what I mean.” though he tried to keep a straight face and act like he was still mad, he couldn't keep a smile from creeping onto his lips. she just had that effect.

she heard the door close and lock again as she took the wrapping off and placed the flowers in the vase. she shrugged at his words, her back still towards him, but she knew he had sat back down.

“you didn't have to get those,” he mumbled, “didn't win.”

she sighed, crumbling the wrapping in her hand and throwing it away before walking to where he sat. she stood in front of him as he looked up at her.

even with heels, he was still much taller than her and even though he was sitting, he reached barely below her chin.

she spread her arms to offer a hug to him, which he gratefully took, his arms snaking around the low of her hips. pressed against her chest, her arms wrapped around his head, running her fingers through his hair.

she felt him sigh against her skin, his eyes closing as they stayed like that for minutes without speaking. she felt him caress the bare skin of her thigh with his thumb.

when they finally pulled apart, his hands still laid firmly on her hips, his hair disheveled from the hug. she ran her hands through it to fix it and he only watched as she did so.

when she finally finished after only ten seconds because guy hair is a lot less complicated than women’s hair, he finally spoke up, “why are you dressed so uncomfortably?”

she was slightly taken aback, seeing as he was just moping about his race not even ten minutes ago and now commenting on her appearance. he only assumed she was uncomfortable, but unfortunately his assumption was correct.

“what do you mean?” she looked down at her attire, which isn't so different from the other wags that she hung out with.

his hand snuck around the back of her thigh and pulled up her leg, “I thought I told you to stop wearing heels, you always complain about them.”

“i’m fine,” she said, about to cross her arms, but her balance said otherwise so she settled them on his shoulders for support.

he gave her an incredulous look because every time she wore heels, without fail, she would complain less than an hour into wherever they were that she wanted to sit.

“okay, i admit i can't wait to get these things off,” she let out a deep breath, putting a hand on her hip, “but I'm supposed to be taking care of you.”

she said in his response to take the heels off her feet for her, a simple gesture really, but this was about him.

“do you want to talk about it?” she massaged his shoulders as he threw her heels to the other side of the small sofa.

“nothing to talk about,” he shrugged, “maybe I don't deserve being first.”

she pushed his head to look up at her, shaking her head, “you just don't realize how much you deserve, max. you're a world champion, a three-time one,” she reassured him, “you've won countless races, and you still have the entire season ahead of you. I know you want to, but you can't let one bad race define your season.”

“I know, you're right.” he bit the inside of his cheek as he thought deeply, “but I have to prove myself.”

“you've already done that plenty of times,” she shook his shoulders in emphasis, “besides you'll still lead the championship, unless charles gets p1, but you'll get it right back if that's the case.”

she was right. she always was, he never doubted her. he would never doubt her because she would never lie to him. she always backed up her answers by building up his ego and confidence back up so he was ready to fight it out on the track next race.

whether it took a couple of minutes or hours to bring his mood back up, she'd take her time in making him feel like the champion he was again.

she would take his phone from him, he didn't need to see the articles being written or the missing phone calls from his dad.

all he needed was her and she would always be there.

—

taglist (found here): @slut4lrh @taylorslovesswifties13 @sbella13 @kaa212 @nhlfs

proofread by @foreveralbon <333