#this one’s gonna have a lotta tags

[milk2641]

Part 2 of my Facebook shitpost dump

[quesoarts]

i'm not sure how to begin explaining this au but she's an undercover agent with severe gender dysphoria in it.

[bumblingbabooshka]

Miral & T’Meni at their weekend Klingon Culture/Language School

[aficionadonn]

im playing the rottmnt mobile game and. mikey just decided he’s done fighting. i did a horrible job. damn son you’ve been traumatized

oh lookie there, leo’s... he. ehe. ehehhh sorry guys

[cq-studios]

KHUX Christmas Special! (I love holiday KH stories <3)

(For This)

So, this one I tried so hard to make Christmas-y but I kept falling into rabbit holes and going on tangents so it needs more edits (and stuff to be written… I aim to get back to it around Christmas time this year) but I can give you one or two sections I have done for now.

Here are two sections of the fic. I tried to make them so they were only some of the Christmas-y bits so the first part starts in the middle of that particular section and cuts off before it is finished and I don’t have the second part finished past where I left it off here.

I know it seems like a lot for a snippet but this fic is like 10 pages rn and it’s only half written so…

When Ephemer and Skuld reached the Foreteller’s Chambers the door was already open a crack. Ephemer shot his friend a questioning glance.

“Brain must’ve beaten us here,” Skuld told him, with a small shrug. 

He couldn’t say he was surprised, -- he wasn’t sure Brain ever slept -- but the other wielder normally kept the door closed.

Ephemer stepped towards the door, and with a gentle nudge it opened the rest of the way. His eyes widened.

 He and Skuld took their first few steps into the room. White garland was evenly wrapped on every fence. Lux bulbs hung off of them, collecting in the middle of each length and glowing softly in every colour under the sun. When he looked behind him he noticed a wreath on the door and when he shifted his gaze to the ground he saw red ribbon and unlit candles scattered across the floor. He stared at his surroundings in awe.

There were Christmas decorations everywhere!

Definitely not Brain then, he mused. 

Then, somewhat belatedly, he had another realization: it was Christmas time already?

Now that he thought about it, it had been snowing recently, and the days were getting shorter. With all the work and everything he must’ve lost track of time. 

It isn’t Christmas today, is it? Slightly alarmed, he double checked in his head, No, there’s still a few more days to get ready. Thank the Master, he definitely needed the time. He hadn’t even started collecting things for gifts yet.

And if he did forget he wasn’t sure Skuld would ever let him forget it. Especially considering Christmas day was also his birthday.

A nudge from Skuld’s elbow took him out of his thoughts. Ephemer shot her a confused glance and she tilted her head towards the table in the middle of the room. Following her motion, his eyes landed on Ven. The younger wielder was fast asleep on a chair across the room. His arms rested on the table in front of him, pillowing his head.

Had Ven done all this when they were asleep?

“You think he did this last night?” Skuld echoed Ephemer’s thoughts, scanning the room around her for what couldn’t have been the first time. She seemed about as mystified as he was. The room felt so much less brooding with the little lights and bright decorations scattered around. 

He hadn’t even realized he’d found it brooding until it wasn’t.

“Looks like it,” Ephemer’s gaze fell back onto the younger wielder, asleep at the table. He seemed so comfortable. “Should we wake him up?”

Skuld looked over at Ven as well. Her face twisted as she tried to come up with an answer.

Luckily for her, she didn’t have to.

Ven shifted, slowly lifting his head and rubbing his eyes. They must’ve woken him up with their talking, Ephemer realized with a pinch of guilt. 

The younger Union Leader blinked at them groggily a few times, then his eyes lit up. Ephemer watched as all the tiredness left the boy’s body and he leaped out of his chair.

“Do you guys like it?” Ven said excitedly, “I woke up really early to surprise you! I wanted to see your reaction but I- '' he looked down at the floor, his expression turning slightly disappointed as he continued, “I guess I fell asleep”.

“You’ll have a chance to see Brain’s reaction, don’t worry,” Ephemer said, at the same time as Skuld told Ven “You did a great job! It looks incredible!”. Ven perked up again at their encouragement.

As if on cue, Brain strolled through the doorway. He didn’t even look up as he entered the room, choosing to keep staring at the open book he held in front of him.

“My reaction to what?” He asked dryly.

Right before he tripped over a candle.

With amusement, Ephemer watched Brain swiftly catch himself and lower his book to look at the ground. The wielder blinked dumbfoundedly at the candles and ribbon strewn across the floor. 

But the confusion in his face only lasted a moment before his eyes flashed with recognition, “Oh”. 

After scanning the rest of the room quickly, he finally settled his gaze on the Ephemer and the others, “Merry Christmas,” he said flatly. Brain tilted his head down and went back to reading his book. He weaved his way through the mess, eventually settling in the chair Ven had been sleeping in earlier.

_____________________________________________________________

Everything is subject to change but here’s some bits of it

“Christmas is gonna be here soon!”

“Make sure you’re ready, it's almost Christmas!”

“Only three more days ‘til Christmas!”

Brain was never really a big Christmas guy, but he had to admit that watching Ven run around cheerily announcing that it was coming to anyone who dared look at him put a smile on his face. Something about the younger wielder's excitement was almost contagious. Maybe that was why he’d agreed to let Ven help with the Spirits in the first place.

He was low on ingredients, so the first task was going to get what he could at the Marketplace and, if he had to, the Moogle Shop. Anything he couldn’t find, he supposed he’d have to wait for the Dandelions to collect, now that Skuld and Ephemer were on strike. The process would take slightly longer in the short term, but he agreed with Skuld. Since there were more Dandelions, if they were told to look for it eventually he’d have a big enough stockpile that they wouldn’t even need to assign missions for it anymore.

The spirits would be holiday themed this time around, despite his disinterest. Ven throwing decorations all over the Foretellers Room only made him more confident in his decision. The Dandelions were sure to appreciate it.

He already had an idea of what animal he was going to base the spirit off of and how he was going to do it. 

While trying to make Bunstar, he’d accidentally made a head that looked a little like a reindeer, and because of Pigstar he already knew how to make hooves. It shouldn’t take him too many more materials to figure out how to make the rest of a reindeer. 

The only hard part left would be the antlers. But if his theory was correct, all he needed to do was take the Pigstar leg recipe, isolate the ingredients that made up the hooves, then find a way to thin, extend, and style the isolated hooves into the correct shape. 

Since spirits are constructed in pieces, he wouldn’t have to combine it with the head recipe and risk changing an aspect of the face. He should be able to easily attach the antlers onto the head the same way he attached limbs to the body.

As Brain closed in on the Marketplace, Ven returned to his side. The younger wielder scanned all the nearby stands then turned to face him.

“What are we looking for?” The boy asked.

Brain went through the list in his head before replying, “Power, Magic, and Speed gems, if we can find them here, then-”.

“Don’t they have those at the Moogle Shop?” Ven interrupted.

“Yes, but generally, when people sell them here, they’re cheaper,” Brain informed the younger wielder, slowing his pace slightly so he could check for the items more easily. Ven mimicked his movements. While his eyes searched the stands, he continued with his list, “We’ll also need starry sand, icy crystals, luminous moss, electrum ore, burnt coal, broken biscuits, herb vines, and spring water, so keep a lookout for those”.

Ven, who had been quietly repeating and putting up a finger for each item he listed, slowly lowered his hands and tilted his head upwards. The boy stared at him with somewhat hopeless eyes,  “That’s a lot of things to remember”.

“Just look for the starry sand and icy crystals then, they’re what we’ll need the most of”.

Speaking of which.

[welcometogrouchland]

sorry if I'm bothering you but I FINALLY FIND SOMEONE ELSE WHO PREFERS FTF BUT PURELY BECAUSE OF OUR LOVE FOR WILLOW (we're the only ones right about her) like yeah, it's DEFINITELY not a perfect episode but IT'S ABOUT THE CHARACTERS. and I LOVE TTT TOO BECAUSE OF LUZ but tbh I didn't like being in the fandom when TTT came out because THERE WAS SO MUCH STUFF ABOUT HUNTER, TO THE POINT WHERE PEOPLE THOUGHT HE SHOULD BE THE MC AND NOT LUZ??? I love my boy but I felt overwhelmed at all of this so him not getting too much in FTF was fine for me :)

Firstly, I'd like to say YES!! FOR THE FUTURE SOLOS!!! LITERALLY SOME OF THE BEST CHARACTER WORK, ART DIRECTION, SOUNDTRACK, BOARDING, HUMOUR AND HORROR IN THE WHOLE SHOW!!!

Secondly I'd like to say that this is SUCH a can of worms that I've held back on talking about for A While™. Tbh it kinda feels like u read my mind I was literally thinking about this this morning.

(BIG ASS RAMBLE UNDER THE CUT. I AM NOT JOKING THIS POST IS SO LONG IT'S NOT EVEN FUNNY)

Both episodes are really fucking good, both on their own merit and when you take into account the circumstances under which they were made. I do not want to labour this point. I hate pitting two bad bitches against each other.

I AM however interested in investigating why, when two episodes are of similar quality, but with different priorities and focuses and (for lack of a better word) Vibe™ does the fandom demonstrably prefer one over the other?

Thanks to Them is BIG on plot. It's big on "establish what the kids have been doing, introduce Lore and Mystery, do the possession, fight the bad guy, get back to the demon realm, bada bing bada boom!!". I don't think it's nearly as relentlessly paced as some people think, and I think there are definitely emotional moments to be gleaned out of characters who AREN'T Luz, Hunter or Camilla- but overall it's similar to the most plot focused episodes of season 2. Your knock knock knocking on hootys doors and your hollow minds.

But for the future is a lot more concerned with character. Everyone gets some small moment to shine, though you're correct in saying that the focus is mostly on Luz, Willow and then probably the collector. But Camilla, Gus, Amity, Hunter, King, Eda and Lilith all get more emotional depth in a few lines than like. Willow did in half of thanks to them. even Belos gets more screentime this ep than he did in thanks to them, screentime that's much more illuminating (do love the moments he had in thanks to them but they weren't huge character moments really, just him villain-ing it up).

Less plot stuff happens, if you count the main goal as "get into the titans skull" then that's only introduced about a quarter of the way through the episode, whereas "get back to the human realm" is established as the goal of thanks to them in like. Negative screentime lmao. You basically know it's the goal coming in because you've watched king's tide already. For the future isn't like this!

And I GET IT MAN! checking in on the YouTube progress bar at the 3/4 of the way through elicited pure fear in me! But I feel like the fandoms fear of plots going unresolved and questions going unanswered has created this. Like. Attitude that the episodes need to be completely spartan or they're wasting time.

Like, with bringing back Boscha and Kikimora. Some people consider that a waste of time because they weren't Big Bads in seasons prior, meaning they should be low priority and don't belong here. And ppl are entitled to feel that way!

But I don't think you can call them wasted! Or irrelevant! I think the writers put a lot of work into making their storyline fit with the themes of the show! I have an essay I may never finish in drafts about this but- one of the most popular aspects of seasons 1 and 2 was the whole corrupt government storyline, which reached it's climax in king's tide but still had no resolution, same way hexside had no resolution from what happened after labyrinth runners. The writers combined these storylines by showing how hexside wasn't going to become a mini dictatorship like the isles old system (hence the title of the episode, changing things for the better "for the future"). That's efficient storytelling! Combining two plots into one in order to resolve both at the same time!

But people don't take this as an example of efficiency because it's not Lore or Plot based. And I think that's a real shame.

Both episodes have pacing and balance issues but I don't think one is especially egregious compared to the other? Nor do they have more pacing and balance issues than say, Clouds on the Horizon, which I'd say is one of MY least favouritely paced episodes of the show. Maybe thanks to them just had more novelty factor because of the setting (not to mention it probably benefitted from having one less subplot to juggle, but eh)

And about the fandom response after each episode....yeah. yeah.

I love Hunter. He's my baby. My scrimblo bimblo. He is like my twin brother. Literally. For reasons I cannot begin to explain here, hunter the owl house is like my twin brother.

And in all fairness to the fandom, plenty of people are normal about him. I know this because I've curated my experience to entirely be the people who are normal about him.

But the people who are not normal about him...my god.

Tbh I think this issue of focus actually lands on why I prefer for the future to thanks to them (THOUGH AGAIN. THEY BOTH SLAY)

The ending of thanks to them was so abrupt and emotionally charged that it felt like a betrayal, almost. The show went so hard and so fast that afterwards there was no breathing room and I didn't fully trust the show to be able to pull back afterwards. I thought either Hunter is going to eat up more and more screentime next episode by having to deal with the implications of every that happened five minutes from the episodes end, or they are literally never going to touch on him again. The ending of thanks to them was SO MUCH in so little time that I literally could not fathom a middle road.

Whereas the ending of for the future was a lot more. Aha, eureka! Moment to me. Like "OHH so that's what we're dealing with next episode!!! Nice". There was excitement and yeah, fear that things wouldn't land, but overall there was more trust in me. And of course, they did find a lovely medium between it being the Hunter show and addressing his trauma adequately. His arc was very emotional and satisfying this ep, without the borderline hard-to-enjoy turmoil that the ending of thanks to them put me through lol.

But I think, to some people, the sheer angst of thanks to thems ending was more emotionally rewarding than the well paced stability and slight ominousness of for the future. They felt that episodes end was too "mid". Too soft. The end of the show needs to go all out all the time, so this episode that focused more on emotional arcs and early season callbacks and payoffs is weak.

And to be honest, maybe my analysis here isn't as in-depth or as in-touch with fandom complaints as it could be! I've generally avoided the people harshly criticizing for the future because I like it when fandom is fun. I don't like watching one of my favorite episodes to date get dunked on. But that in and of itself (combined with the leak situation) has led to an inability to really Go All Out with fandom engagement rn. It's a struggle!

I've seen people describe for the future as en episode where Everything happened, and yet nothing happened. I get why! I personally prefer it to thanks to them because I feel like too much happened during that episodes climax to the point where it didn't even feel like the episode had true resolution.

But also, I get that for a lot of people, it's not even about construction. It's just about expectation and preference. People weren't expecting hexside, and when they got it, they got upset. People weren't expecting Willow, and when they got it, they didn't like it. And I get that. Really I do.

But this show is so fuckin wild. It does so much and throws so many curve balls at you. Never the big twists either, always the shit u don't expect. And it's great. I've honestly grown really fond of the way this show pokes me in the ass with something I didn't really expect or consider.

Not everybody is though and like. That's fine. But I do wish sometimes people would just. Kinda. Let it go when something goes in a direction they didn't expect. Because I didn't expect the direction FTF went in at all and I loved it once I stopped to think about it. But that's just me.

I think this is only like. 25% a direct response to things you said in the ask, so to conclude by answering/engaging with your ask point by point:

Willow stans and For the Future stans unite. This is our nation. Also shout-out to the fellow willow understanders I am mutuals with/follow you guys were really keeping us going in the pre for the future times

It's not a perfect episode but circumstances considering, it never could've been, and I'm okay with most of the ways it falls short. I'm also fully willing to hold out and see whether or not watching and dreaming rectifies any of my complaints, considering several of the issues I took with thanks to them were solved this ep, lol

Luz and Camilla literally stole the show in thanks to them and while I understand that the ending of that ep was very hunter centric, hence the hunter centric fandom atmosphere afterwards, I do prefer the environment in fandom rn that's appreciating this mother daughter duo rn

Hunter is not a main character imo. Not because he couldn't be but because his story is rendered infinitely more interesting when he is a supporting character. It's one thing to tell us that Hunter lives for other people and is made to forever be a second- best underling. It's another thing to show us this with his narrative role as the ultimate foil. He Is Better Off This Way. Also this point is dumb but I fully believe Hunter would be miserable as a main character. He does not want this

Also Luz is genuinely one of my favorite main characters in television. Maybe ever. If I start talking about her we'll be here all day. Just look at literally anything sepublic has written about her it's all on point

For the future had the perfect amount of Hunter content tbh. No episode should have more or less. I'm banging my gavel like a judge decreeing this to be so

[gyaruko0]

omori boy

{ps. the user gyaruko.o is my IG.}

[kaluawoo]

Being on Tumblr is just like. Going into a fandom tag. Reading like 3 posts. Vowing to not go into that tag again.

Going back into it the next day.

[nexus-nebulae]

tempted to make some ramen but. do i have the energy for that

[keeps-ache]

ooo that's minty babyyy

[dear-mi]

Ok! It feels only necessary to explain this blogs name.

So, the novel I'm currently writing is called 'Dear You'

In this story is a character known as Mi, which is an OC I've been using to write for the last 8 years or so.

Her name was originally Miso, and came from my first ever attempt at writing a story, called 'Dear Mi' Obviously I've reused the title, it's a good sounding title and I didn't want it to go to waste.

Either way, Dear Mi was about Miso moving to a new city and school on account of her dad's work. It does the whole typical slice of life thing, going to a new school, making a new friend group, dealing with bullies, finding yourself, etc. The only real interesting part about it is that Miso had an imaginary friend that she would often talk to. This dialogue would act as a display of introspections, thought, and what not, because the imaginary friend didn't really speak. It acts just as a wall that can listen, a silent Grecian chorus if you will. Yet, throughout the story, it becomes more active.

Most would assume that it would symbolize everything she still holds onto that's holding her back, but it's actually the inverse. It's suppose to represent all the ways she's grown, and remind her of her own journey.

The next story Miso featured in didn't have a name. This time, she couldn't actually see color in the world, everything was black and white manga style. She did still have that imaginary friend, and she could see one that everyone else had, that they didn't know they had. Whenever she interacted with someone and their imaginary friend, the world around that person would gain its color. So she goes around painting the place by reminding people of their own story.

After that was another piece known as 'Tellings of the Sky' The world was again, still black and white. However, the sky was different. It not only had color, it could change color, and even change shape. The imaginary friend is gone, and so is everyone else. It's completely desolate of all other sentient life.

This story follows two characters though, Miso, and a boy I never got around to naming. They both live in their own world like this, and the story is written through diary logs of the two as they explore the world. Eventually, however, what one person writes shows up in the journal of the other, and the two start to interact across worlds. A whole bunch of weird reality shenanigans happens, and the story ends with the two worlds merging.

I've written a couple poems about her, one called 'For Whom the Bells Toll' and 'Buttercups' and this all wraps around to 'Dear You'

In 'Dear You' however, Miso isn't even the main character. I changed her name to Mi, and gave her a younger brother aptly named So. Miso's age changed very much across the stories I'd written about her, and this time her and her brother are on the younger side.

Within the prologue of 'Dear You' Mi and So meet the main character, and are essentially adopted by them.

The main character does have a name, but goes nameless until after the underground arc of the story. Within 'Dear You' Mi also plays a much more prevalent part in the story than her brother, and that's probably me just projecting my favor but eh, it's fine. If I really wanted to I could just bring Miso back entirely, but So does have his own arcs and everything already, I'm just not as much invested into him as character. That'll change as the story develops, but for the time being Mi, the outcome of Miso, is still just where a lot of my focus has gone.

[pyrriax]

what if i just waited to post stuff until i've got my current three Ideas written

just post em all back to back and then sleep for a week

[ !! venting in the tags !! ]

[astonmartinii]

you and me got a whole lotta history | charles leclerc social media au

pairing: charles leclerc x historian!reader

y/n is a historian and it’s not her fault her bf’s job takes him all around the world…

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, danielricciardo and 102,561 others

location: melbourne 📍

yourusername: so it’s the australian grand prix and i’ve spent the start of the week exploring this old city. one of my stops was the historic old melbourne gaol. this now museum was once a prison that housed some of the most feared criminals in australian history. constructed in 1839, the old melbourne gaol saw 133 hanged for their crimes between 1845 and 1924. it was briefly used during world war two but ceased operation as a prison in 1924 and was renovated to be part of the RMIT university and the museum it is today. a definite must if you’re visiting melbourne !!

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user1: my fave part of the race week is y/n’s museum recommendations tbf

user2: i can vision charles being dragged around this place hating his life

charles_leclerc: the things we do for love

yourusername: you said you enjoyed it :(

charles_leclerc: I DID

user2: oops

yourusername: i’ll leave you at the hotel next time

charles_leclerc: it was scary but i enjoyed it because i was with you

yourusername: okay that’s better

danielricciardo: so my farm isn’t good enough for you

yourusername: noooooo danny i thought we were going after the race?

danielricciardo: oof my bad

user3: petition for there to be a teds notebook but it’s y/n giving us a historical guide to the city the race is in

f1: we’re listening @skysportsf1

charles_leclerc

liked by yourusername, scuderica ferrari and 788,341 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc: tough race in melbourne but a beautiful city regardless

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user4: HE served, we don’t talk about the race

yourusername: i don’t mean to say i told you so but i did say our day trip would be the best part

user5: girl you’re gonna get banned from the ferrari garage

yourusername: they deserve far worse than what i’m saying let’s be real

user5: true

user6: i love how charles didn’t reply ferrari has his ass ON LOCK

carlossainz55: we'll come back stronger

danielricciardo: we can all commiserate at my farm bro

charles_leclerc: your farm better be as good as you're saying now

danielricciardo: nervously awaiting the y/n review

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1 and 104,561 others

location: miami 📍

yourusername: though miami may be known for it's partying (it's all about the U), charles and i took our monday to take a stroll around st bernard de clairvaux church, one of miami's hidden gems. the church was originally built in spain all the way back in 1141 to the style of cistercian romanesque architecture for alfonso vii. the monastry's cloister was illegally purchased by american william randolph hearst in 1926 and in order for the church to be transported it was dismantled to 11,000 pieces and sent to the us where it was rebuilt and still stands to this day.

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user7: i'm never gonna be able to afford to go to miami so why did i read this whole thing like i'll visit some day?

yourusername: history is important and interesting, always good to read even if you never visit !!

user8: she's like the older sister i never had

user9: did charles enjoy this one more?

yourusername: "at least i'll get a tan here"

charles_leclerc: i feel like anyone who reads about me in your comments will think i'm an asshole, i have fun every time i just don't understand most of it

yourusername: i know you have fun baby (and i love you for driving us to all of these places)

user10: have you considered our super historic frat house this saturday night?

user11: imagine thinking you have a chance when her literal boyf is CHARLES LECLERC

user10: every goal has a goalkeeper doesn't mean you can't score

charles_leclerc: i will run you over

user12: omg ferrari's pr is quaking

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, lancestroll and 112,677 others

yourusername: it is my biggest honour to announce my position as a history lecturer here at oxford!! i always dreamed of studying here and to get to pass on my knowledge to those looking to follow in my footsteps is a huge pleasure and responsibility.

p.s. no worries, it is not full time so race week explorations will continue.

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user13: so it was true :(((((( wait i just read the whole post my bad

user14: so i guess i now need to turn my Cs into As if i wanna attend a y/n lecture

charles_leclerc: unbelievably proud of you my love - don't miss me too much

yourusername: you sure i can't persuade you to move to england with me :(

charles_leclerc: i'll be there as much as i can be but monaco is still our home

yourusername: always

landonorris: proud of you smarty pants

yourusername: thank you landito

landonorris: so you'll now root for the brits?

charles_leclerc: over my dead body

yourusername: what charlie said

charles_leclerc

liked by pierregasly, yourusername and 1,209,778 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc: super happy for another win for the season but we keep pushing for the real prize at the end of the season - thank you for your continued support tifosi and my love y/n who stayed up all the way in oxford ❤️

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user20: i don't wanna jinx it but like the season is going well

user21: too well....

yourusername: winning looks good on you

charles_leclerc: you look better on me

pierregasly: oh god you've been apart for a triple header and now you're being horny on main

yourusername: says mr. doggy emoji

pierregasly: touche

user22: so charles can mathematically win in either austin or brazil FUCK THEM KIDS I NEED Y/N AT THESE RACES

user23: if she's not there for charles wdc i am personally going to have a sleepover on the train tracks

yourusername added to their story

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, lewishamilton and 503,786 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername: the autodromo jose carlos pace is the crown jewel of the interlagos neighbourhood. the circuit opened 83 years ago and has hosted the f1 since 1972. the circuit was originally meant to be a housing area but due to the 1929 stock market crash the owners decided to construct a racing track instead. interlagos is often a season decider with fernando alonso winning both his 2005 and 2006 titles here, kimi raikkonen winning the 2007 championship here, lewis hamilton won the 2008 championship here, jenson button clinched the 2009 title here and CHARLES LECLERC WON HIS FIRST TITLE HERE IN INTERLAGOS FOR THE 2023 SEASON

on a real note i am so proud of you charles, i have seen the sacrifices you have made and the unbelievable amount of effort you pour into every facet of your racing NO ONE deserves this more than you. i am so grateful to have shared this moment with you, here's to many more xxx

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user26: i am unwell this is so fucking cute

user27: bro this is so fucking crazy

charles_leclerc: couldn't have done it without you, so glad you could be there for me xx

yourusername: always charlie xx

yourstudent: miss y/n you can cancel all of our lectures if charles wins the championship again FORZA FERRARI

charles_leclerc: the people have spoken

user28: insane butterfly effect of the wall street crash to charles leclerc 2023 wdc

user29: they make me believe in love

note: this was super random but popped into my head while at work and i knew i had to write it !! hope you enjoyed xx

[bamsara]

I'll ask, if it hasn't been already - regarding the tags on the fanfic poll:

What kinda things make you click out/give you the squick? I'm so curious 👀

rubs my hands together: could be a mix of things anywhere between character dynamics, personalities or even how the fic is formated

Btw for people who don't know what squicks are: 'Squicks' are just personal preferences that someone doesn't like. Nothing wrong with em it's just not your vibe. (Exp: Like how all my friends HATE tomatoes but I am tomato eater forever)

anyway long ramble list:

Can't read big blocks of text without breaks very well, and I dislike when characters (esp main characters that are talking in every chapter/scene) have bolded or italicized dialogue. I think it's fine for special reoccurring characters but it genuinely messes up with reading flow for me when it comes to taking in information if used too much

If I'm reading a fic specifically for a monogamous romantic paring, I don't care for the 'past lover interest reappears' trope or one of them currently has one, or the love triangle that results in one of them being like 'oh but i love them both i can't possibly choose!' *cough twilight cough* it just makes the relationship feel disgenuine and icky. zero stars. Any mention of a character's past relationship usually makes me just click out, just personally not here for that

-^^^ to go with this, big fan of the 'misunderstanding where someone thinks there's a love rivelry but the third person never had a chance.' Like to the main pairing there's only eyes for each other and that's all they care about, there's just some third person who's there and causing problems (either because someone in the pairing is jealous of the third person thinking they're gonna steal the other when it's not, or the third person thinks they're a love rival when in reality they're not even thought about) *cough Tyren cough*. I think there's a lotta comedy to have with this. Bonus points if it brings main pairing closer together

When characters have linear character development and recovery. I prefer my characters to realistically relapse and bit a little bit of a hypocrite as they develop from start of story to end. Failing and falling short and again makes the final result much more satisfying when they're healing

When characters use 'therapy speak' or otherwise react perfectly 'acceptable' to stressful situations. Again, I prefer realistic depictions of characters under stress, and work out becoming better under that stress rather than just One Big Thing Happen and suddenly they're never going to react negatively or lash out again because another character told them It Was Bad and To find Better Coping Mechanisms.

Unhappy endings. (Or open ended ones) Sorry for hurt/no comfort lovers but none of my fics will have unhappy endings. I like my stories to have people that go through absolute hell and still come out on the otherside

The ace in me doesn't care for fics where physical attraction is a large part of the ingredients that gets the pairing together. Not saying they can't admire each other when the sunlight hits them or wearing a nice outfit but just not a fan of reading about how 'sexy' a character is to another. Probably why I usually blast all my characters with the aspec beam

That's all I can think of off the top of my head but if someone had a more specific question I might be able to answer

[kiddiesmores]

“𝟖𝟔 𝐌𝐚𝐡𝐢-𝐌𝐚𝐡𝐢!”

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: It’s your first day on the job out of training, you’ve never been so nervous in your life! You finally met the big boss that everyone is saying the be weary of but he doesn’t seem to be as scary as everyone says he is…

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Harmless flirting, Whole lotta swearing, Yelling customers.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.8k

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐦𝐢𝐤𝐞: SHES HEEERREEEE!! Pls enjoy as I try and bring my vision to life! Feedback is welcome but don’t be rude, I argue back. Enjoy!

“Psst…psst…YN!”

You shoot up, looking around in a hurry for a sign of danger. “What! What- Huh? Brooke? What is it? Is something on fire? IS THE DOG OKAY?” You question, grabbing your roommate's arm in fear. She laughs at you, shaking her head as she points to your phone, “Your alarm has been going on for 5 minutes, don’t you start your new job today?”

Your eyes widen, grabbing your phone and staring at the time. ‘9:30am’ it reads, making you gasp and jump out of bed. “SHIT SHIT SHIT, I'M GONNA BE LATE! '' you shout as you rush to the bathroom, your uniform neatly folded on the counter as if you’re going to your first day of school. Brooke follows you into the bathroom, watching you as you quickly brush your teeth.

“Did you still need me to drive you?” She asks, fixing her hair in the mirror. You nod quickly as you scrape your tongue, spitting out the gunk and shoving her out so you can change.

You make sure your hair is neat and tidy, fiddling with the shorts and collard black shirt that hosts the “CHOPS BAR N GRILL” name and logo in the right corner, your name tag taking its place on the left.

You let out a sigh, the nerves of starting a new job sending tingles across your body. “I’m cool, I’m cool! Everything’s gonna be fine- and i’m gonna make so much money-“

“9:45 AND WE LIVE 10 MINUTES AWAY LETS GOOOO” Your roommate calls out. You quickly shut off your lights, sprinting around the room looking for your bag.

“BROOKE MY BAG”

“I GRABBED IT ALREADY”

“AND MY PHONE?”

“IN MY HAND”

You speed walk to the living room, slipping on your work shoes and kissing your roommate on the cheek, “I love you.” She waves you off, “I know.”

The ride there was smooth, Brooke playing old 2000s songs so you can jam out and not think about how nervous you were about your first day. She was the reason you secured this new job, her boyfriend being one of the line cooks and all. He put in a good word for you with the owner as they’re extremely close, making your interview process very simple. You have to tell her to kiss Charlie on the lip real good for you for this one.

As you pull into the parking lot, a wave of anxiety rushes over you, but she’s a step ahead of you.

Hands on your shoulders you stare at your bestfriend/roommate. “Repeat after me, and close your eyes.” She states and you listen.

“You’re gonna make a lot of money.”

“I’m gonna make a lot of money.”

“You’re hot and sexy”

You laugh a bit, “I’m hot and sexy”

Her thumbs stroke your shoulders comfortingly, “You’re gonna have the best day. You made it through the training week just fine, it’s just time for the real thing! Plus, Charlie is there so you’ll have him there for help. I will literally pull right back the fuck up if anything happens.”

You nod, putting a hand over hers as you let out another sigh. You force your knee to stop bouncing, nodding affirmatively and letting out a “Thank you” before grabbing your bag and hopping out the car. You walk with purpose to the front doors, opening it and saying a hello to the hosts who greet you with big smiles. They wish you good luck as you make your way to the kitchen which you reciprocate with a thank you and a smile.

You set your bag down in its designated spot, fixing your face in the mirror and putting aquaphor on your lips. A hand clasps your shoulder making you jump, “Who’s ready for their first day on the floor!” you hear. It’s one of your managers, Rosemary. She’s a really sweet lady, yall are close in age so it’s very easy to talk to her. You put a hand on your heart, “Damn it Rosie, you scared me..” you respond turning to her.

She laughs, “I know you’re nervous, but trust you’re gonna do great. You were amazing in training, and there will always be people to help you. Just ask okay?”

You nod again and she claps her hands together. “Perfect, let’s get you clocked in- good job getting here on time by the way! And there’s someone you need to meet before you start!”

Rosemary guides you to the office where you’re met with a man dressed in a black chef button up with the facial hair you can swear you’ve seen on the logo. His expression is hard to read. It’s grouchy- yet bored- but not angry? He’s sitting in the chair and looking at the computer, an excel spreadsheet on display, checking the inventory from the night before.

Rosemary knocks twice to get his attention and he mutters “What is it?” She smiles, “This is our new hire, Y/N. You didn’t get to meet her during interviews and training but I wanted to make sure you knew who they were before you bitch about seeing someone you don’t know on your line” She jokes. His head turns, looking you right in the eyes, you have to force yourself not to flinch.

“Y/N this is Jay! The owner, manager, executive chef. He’s usually here on Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays and Sunday mornings. Saturday night occasionally, so you’ll be seeing a lot of him against your will…” Rosie teases. You let out a nervous laugh, “Nice to meet you sir..”

You reach out a hand for him to shake which he takes, “Welcome to the team, and don’t call me Jay, she only calls me that to piss me off. Call me Schlatt. Have you ever served before?”

You nod, “Yes sir, this will be my second serving job.” He hums, “Good, so we don’t have to teach you to hold a tray or anything.” He stands up with a grunt, and you take him in more. He’s fucking tall, and b i g. You both seem to realize he’s still holding onto your hand and you laugh a bit as he retracts.

“All the advice I can give you is don’t fuck up, but I don’t think i’ll have to worry about that with you. I’ve heard good things, now if you excuse me.”

He gives Rosie a push on the shoulder and makes his exit. She squeals a bit, shaking your shoulders, “That’s the sweetest i’ve ever seen him! You’re so in!!”

Your head tilts, confused, “What do you mean? He seems nice enough..?”

Rosie’s face drops, “Y/N. Schlatt is TERRIFYING. You’re lucky we caught him before we actually opened, he’s a beast when he’s in that kitchen. Just make sure to handle your business so he doesn’t have to leave that line.”

You nod quickly, your head feeling dizzy from the amount of times you’ve done it today. The phone rings and Rosie excuses herself to answer it, asking a coworker of yours to show you the section you’ll have for the morning.

All you could think about his ‘words of encouragement’ he offered, ‘Don’t fuck up’. You were determined not to disappoint him.

“Y/N! You just got sat!” The host comes back to tell you, and you smile at her sweetly.

“Thank you!”

You look in the mirror, forcing a smile on your face and rehearsing your script in your head before turning the corner with a shout, “Corner!”, and heading to your first table of the day.

The morning runs smoothly, you only need to ask for help twice. Once when a lady asked if you could just sell her raw chicken that she could take home for herself to cook and again when a guy tried to buy a case of beer off of you guys so he didn’t have to go to the store. Only later to find out that they were together but just came in at separate times…

Other than that everything was going good. But alas, all good things have to come to an end.

While it was slow you stood at the host stand, joking around with them as you waited for your next table, greeting everyone that came in. An old couple walks in, the man sporting a flannel and a trucker hat and the old lady in a blouse and pearl necklace.

The hosts greet them while you smile. The hosts lead them to your section and you follow behind them.

“Hello! I’m Y/N i’m going to be taking care of yall today-“

“Who are you? We ain’t ever seen you here before.” The man interrupts.

You freeze, regaining your train of thought after the question threw you off script. “Oh! Yes haha, I’m new here! Today is my first day on the floor!”

“Oh isn’t that cute! You’re so precious, are they treating you right?” The woman asks, making your heart warm. “Yes ma’am, they are. Can I get yall started with some drinks?”

As she’s about to answer, her husband cuts her off again, “I don’t know how I feel about some fresh face serving me. Where’s Jessie? Usually we get her on these mornings.”

You blink slowly, is this guy serious?

“Jessie isn’t here today, but I promise I will take care of yall well! This isn’t my first time servin!” You joke, his wife laughs again.

“Well I will take a nice cold sweet tea and he will have a Tall Bud Light, dressed. And we already know what we want to eat. We come in here often!”

Great.

“Of course, what can I get for y'all today?”

You learn their names are Tim and Pam, watching as other servers go up to your table while you’re away and conversing with them.

Pam orders the chicken breast with a side salad with ranch and mash potatoes, while Tim orders a 8oz filet, medium with a loaded baked potato and green beans.

You double- No. Triple check to make sure everything is right before sending the food through. Now all you had to do was wait as you got them and your other tables refills on drinks.

The expo slides your tray to you, muttering a “You're up.”

You carry the tray out to your table, passing it out swiftly before asking if everything is alright. They say everything looks fine but as you turn to leave you hear a yell. “GOD DAMN IT- SEE PAM! THIS IS WHY I DON'T LIKE NEW PEOPLE. MY STEAK AINT COOKED RIGHT.”

Your blood runs cold, you swore you sent it in right? It’s impossible. “I’m so sorry sir, I can send it back-“

“GET ME SCHLATT” He shouts, making you flinch. You nod, rushing to the kitchen, hands trembling. The kitchen is busy, plates are being shoved up on the counter constantly and you can hear Schlatt bitching before you even turn the corner.

You take in a deep breath before putting your face in the kitchen window, “Um…Schlatt? My 411 wants to talk to you-“

“I’m fuckin busy, what is it they want? And why me for fucks sake, where’s rosie? ROSIE” he shouts. You take a step back, finding your voice. “He asked for you specifically, Tim? I think his name was..”

Schlatt lets out a loud groan, slapping his towel over his shoulder before barging through the kitchen doors. “Fuckin Tim, follow me. I’m gonna show you how to handle his ass so you don’t have to bother me again.”

As yall approach the table, you hear Pam trying to calm Tim down.

“Finally! Just the man I wanted to see, your new waitress over here is already causin’ problems! I said I wanted my steak medium well, this shit is damn near raw!”

You look at Schlatt as he stares blankly at the man, his jaw clenched. You swore the man said medium, and even so the steak looked perfect to you so you had no clue what had made him so mad.

“Damn it, Tim! You do this shit every time man, at some point I’m gonna tell them to stop servin ya entirely!”

Schlatt rubs his temples as you stare at him as he lectures the table in front of you, apparently this isn’t his first time bitching at the guy, and evidently it won’t be the last.

“This steak is fucking perfect, just because you don’t like new people doesn’t mean you interrupt MY day. I’m getting sick of you messin with my servers. My day’s already shitty enough. I should fuckin known, you never order your steaks medium well in the first place!” He rants, throwing his hands up in frustration.

He lets out a sigh, “I’ll comp the meal today, but tip your fuckin waitress and get the hell out, I ain’t dealin with this today. .” Schlatt storms to the other side of the store, leaving you to smile awkwardly at your table as Tim grumbles and pulls out his wallet as his wife rubs his shoulder.

You make your way to the POS system to watch Schlatt comp the meal on the computer, mumbling about how he doesn’t have time to deal with bullshit or whatever.

“Thank you for…setting him straight for me, I didn’t know we could talk to people like that.” You joke as he hands you their new receipt. He looks at you, eyebrow raised, “When I told them to hire you I thought I told them to make sure they have a backbone. Don’t let anybody give you any shit, you’re too sweet n’ pretty to be talked to like that.”

You nod dumbly, watching him go back to the kitchen with the towel over his shoulder, hearing his voice boom as he yells at whatever poor cook for fucking up Tims filet. Your stomach is full of butterflies, “He thinks I'm sweet and pretty?”

The rush is FINALLY over and they cut you for the afternoon. You quickly popped in your earbuds as you roll silverware and conversate with your coworkers in passing. Once you rolled the silverware count and finished your side work, you decide to go out for a smoke break before going to sweep your section for the shift change.

You grab the cardboard and slide it between the door to make sure you aren’t locked out, stepping outside for fresh air.

There, you see Schlatt, cigarette in mouth as he scrolls on his phone while sitting on one of the empty barrels. The only other flat surface is the barrel in front of him, and god knows you needed to sit down after running back and forth all afternoon. You let out a sigh and walked up to it, “This seat taken?” you joke as you sit.

He looks up, shaking his head. “It’s all yours.” he grumbles. You nod, taking your vape out of your apron and hitting it. He looks at the device in your hand, “Didn’t know you were a…Watermelon Ice Geekbar kinda person”

You laugh out loud, “Yeahh, trying to ween off though..” you joke back. You offer it to him, “Wanna try it, tastes better than your cigarette” He scoffs, “Yeah and fucks you up worse than one too.”

You smile at his jab, shaking your head and hitting it again. Yall sit in a comfortable silence for a while, letting the sun hit your face as you try to decompress from your day.

“So, minus Tim being a dick how was your shift?” He asks, ripping you out of your dazed state.

“Oh um- great! It was great, the tables were nice for the most part besides a few weirdos. Everyone was really helpful…” you respond sheepishly, toying with the vape in hand. “Thanks again for your help..” you mutter.

He grunts, “Good to hear. It’s no problem really, but you really need to start talkin back. Not like me, you’re nicer than I am I assume, but don’t let anybody walk all over you like that.”

You watch him ash out the cigarette before standing up to go back inside, but your heart is racing. “Can I ask you something?” You call out to him before he goes inside.

He turns to you, waiting for your question, “Earlier, you said I was ‘sweet n pretty’? What did you exactly mean by that?”

He looks you up and down a small smirk on his face, “You been thinkin about that all day huh?”

Tingles rush across your skin, embarrassed as he clocked you. “No-no! Of course not! Forget it, sorry..”

He laughs, and you can’t help but stare at him, smiling shyly.

“Don’t think too hard about it sweetheart,” he starts, opening the door to go inside.

Once he’s halfway in, he peeks his head back out,

“But i’d be lyin if I said I don’t find you very nice to look at.”

And with that he’s gone. Your mouth is left open, trying to process off you heard him correctly. That was definitely him flirting with you right?

The after work debrief with Brooke is going to go INSANE.

//taglist @invadermeweatsshart @ohgodthebogisback

[pedrospatch]

a safe haven l ten

Jackson! Joel Miller x Female Reader

series masterlist

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.”