#i was going to be SO productive these days fuck you mother nature
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Happy new year! I hope everyone has a good time, I can't say the same about myself, a tornado literally passed through the city on the 29th and we won't have electricity in my house for at least 4 days jdjdk
At the moment no one died so somehow everything will be fixed loln't
#said 'this is like the best new year yet no?' to my mom the 28th and jinxed the entire city kandksk#going to the city and watching the at least decades years old trees fallen with their roots out with this face 😬#yeah pretty wild huh#i was going to be SO productive these days fuck you mother nature#rui thinks loudly#on the bright side! i reread the entire sakura cardcaptor manga in my bookshelf!#on the darkside lf the bright side! WHAT IS GOIN ON WITH THE AGEGAPS WTF CLAMP#felt like puke whener terada and rika had screentime🤢#aND SAKURA'S PARENTS TOO the dad goes 'he (sakura's mom grandfather) always saw me like a villain' YEAH I WONDER WHY#ITS NOT LIKE YOU MARRIED YOUR HIGHSCHOOL STUDENT AT HER SIXTEENS#oh but she was really happy🥺 BULLSHIT
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a safe haven l nine
Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader
series masterlist l previous chapter l next chapter
summary: When you find out that you’re pregnant, everything comes crumbling down around you.
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. (TW) THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS A SCENE THAT HEAVILY IMPLIES DOMESTIC VIOLENCE. this chapter it also contains a very uncomfortable scene with reader and Luke, but despite the sexual nature of the scene, READER DOES NOT GET SA, BUT SHE DOES GET INJURED. INJURY there is a description of an injury as the result of DV HEAVILY IMPLYING STRANGULATION. PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS. pregnancy, mentions of high risk pregnancy (not reader), mentions of child loss (not reader), mentions of pregnancy related symptoms (missed menstrual cycle, morning sickness), protective Tommy Miller, protective Joel, and last but certainly not least, feral Joel. this chapter is a lot, just proceed with caution if anything in bold can be a potential trigger for you.
word count: 11.8k
October, 2024
It’s the middle of October.
By now, the pain had become almost unbearable. Time certainly wasn’t healing the wound.
If anything, time only seemed to be making it worse.
So, so much fucking worse.
It drags, and you almost feel as if you’re paralyzed by it. But the only thing that you can do about it, about any of this, is just pretend.
Pretend everything is okay.
Pretend it doesn’t hurt.
Pretend you don’t feel empty.
Pretend you don’t need him.
But you do need him. Oh, how you fucking need him.
The hole in your heart is growing bigger by the day, and only Joel Miller is capable of filling the void. Only he has the ability to make you feel whole again. Complete.
“Be honest with me—what does this look like?”
You pause your knitting and glance over at Maria.
With her due date approaching, you had offered to help her prepare for the baby’s arrival. At about six months, Maria was expected to give birth towards the middle of winter season, and instead of trading or having to use rations for certain baby items, like blankets, little socks and mittens, you’d decided to show her how to make them instead. Not only was it saving her from having to trade or use her rations on things that could easily be knitted, but it served as a decent, albeit temporary, distraction, giving your mind the chance to focus on something else other than how deeply you were hurting without Joel.
Tilting your head slightly, you eye the soft, butter yellow wool she’s holding in her hands. “Um, is that the start of another baby blanket?”
“No.” Maria’s face falls. “It’s supposed to be a hat.”
“Oh. Um.” You lean forward in the brown leather armchair you’re perched on, squinting hard at it as she holds it up. “Okay, yeah, I can kind of see the shape of it now. I can totally see it being a little hat for the baby.” She tosses you a knowing smile and you squirm slightly, heat prickling at your ears.
“I appreciate you lying to me.” She giggles and sets down her knitting needles beside her on the couch along with the ball of wool yarn. Leaning back, she places both hands on her belly and sighs. “At the very least this child will never go without a blanket seeing as blankets are all I’m capable of making.”
You flash her a small, but reassuring smile.
“You’ll get the hang of it, Maria, I promise. It just takes some practice, that’s all.”
“Well, now that Luke has put me on strict bed rest until I have the baby, I’m going to have all the time in the world to practice,” Maria remarks, exhaling another sigh. Craning her neck, she peers at your own knitting project, which you’ve been working on in something of a secretive manner in your lap and out of the expectant mother’s view. “What are you making over there, anyway?”
Her timing couldn’t have been more perfect.
“I’m so glad you asked since I’m just about done.”
Crossing the last stitch, you set aside your knitting needles and then hold up the finished product. “What do you think of these?”
Maria’s hand flies to her mouth, tears welling up in her dark eyes the moment she sees the pair of little brown baby booties in your hands. “I’m sorry,” she apologizes, a tear rolling down the side of her face as you stand up and walk across her living room to present her with the shoes. Sitting down beside her, you hold them out in the palms of your hands. With trembling fingers, she accepts them. “Kevin had a pair just like these when he was a newborn. I kept them even after he’d outgrown them.” She lets out a small laugh in spite of herself. “You know, I’d always complain that he was growing up too fast. I used to wish that I could slow time down a little so I could enjoy my son being that young longer,” she admits, sniffing. She reaches up, dabbing at her damp eyes with one of her hands. “And now Kevin is frozen in time, forever a three year old little boy.”
She sets the booties down on her belly and inhales deeply, willing herself to keep her composure.
Swallowing back your own emotions, you brush a single, stray tear from her cheek with your thumb. It wasn’t the first time that she’d opened up about losing her child—but Maria often kept her emotions hidden, tucked away along with her son’s memory. For the last several years, she’d dedicated most of her time and energy to Jackson and to its people, pouring herself completely into her role as the community’s leader. But now that Luke had placed her on strict bed rest for the rest of her pregnancy, Maria had no choice but to step down, temporarily handing the role over to Tommy, along with a small council she’d handpicked herself.
It hadn’t been easy for her, after all, there was only so much she could do to keep herself preoccupied while being confined to the four walls of her home. She found her mind wandering to Kevin a lot more often than not lately, and the pregnancy hormones did absolutely nothing to help in the matter.
“Maria?” you say her name softly. “You okay?”
She slowly exhales the breath she’d been holding.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” she finally replies, sniffing again.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah.” She pauses momentarily. “I just—there’s a part of me that still has trouble believing I’m going to be a mother again. It’s been so long, you know? What if I’ve forgotten how to be a good mom?”
Dropping your hand from Maria’s face, you offer it out for her to hold. She accepts it and you give her hand a gentle squeeze as you vouch, “This baby, they couldn’t be any luckier than to have a mother like you, Maria.”
“And a fuckin’ hell of a dad like me,” a voice teases from the doorway.
Tommy, who had been down at the commune’s market picking up some potatoes for dinner, saunters into the living room with a brown paper bag in his arm. Setting the bag down onto a nearby table, he then makes his way over to his wife. Noticing that she’d been crying, he leans over and presses his lips against her forehead, softly murmuring, “You doin’ alright, sweetheart?”
“I’m alright,” she assures him with a nod. “I’m just extra sensitive and hormonal right now. The usual.”
He hums. “Uh, yeah, I kinda figured that out when you bawled your way through Old Yeller at the movies the other night.”
She pouts. “Pregnant or not, that movie’s a tear jerker, okay? Only people made of stone don’t cry when the dog dies.”
“She’s got a point, Tommy,” you agree with a shrug. “I cried too, and I’m not pregnant.”
Drawing himself back up to his full height, Tommy glances at the booties resting on Maria’s belly. He picks them up and holds them both in the palm of his hand.
“Well, ain’t these just the teeniest things I ever did see,” he remarks with a soft chuckle. “Who made these?”
Maria jerks her chin towards you. “She did.”
Tommy’s eyes meet yours and it feels like a punch to the fucking gut—they remind you of his brother. “Almost feels like a crime, havin’ you make clothes for our kid for free,” he states, shaking his head as he hands them back to Maria. “You’re makin’ the baby’s entire wardrobe at this point, little lady.”
Sheepishly, you wave a dismissive hand at him. “I made one sweater and a couple pairs of mittens for them. I wouldn’t exactly call that a wardrobe, Tommy.”
“It’s a hell of a lot more stuff than we had before. I gotta be honest, it just don’t feel right acceptin’ all these things from you without payin’ somehow. I’d really like to at least trade you somethin’ for them.”
Shaking your head, you politely decline the offer.
“I appreciate it, but I really don’t need anything.”
“What ‘bout Luke?”
“He doesn’t either.”
“But—”
“Honey, don’t waste your breath,” Maria chimes in with a sigh. “I’ve been trying to get her to accept a trade all week long and she simply won’t budge.”
Tommy purses his lips together, slowly rubbing his chin in thought. “Okay, I’ve got an idea,” he proposes after a minute. “How ‘bout you and Luke both come on over and join us for dinner later tonight? That ain’t too bad of a deal, right?”
You silently mull over the offer for a second.
“If I accept the invitation, then will you two knock it off with all this damn trade nonsense?” When he eagerly nods, you sigh. “Alright then, I accept. We’ll come over for dinner tonight. Granted he doesn’t come home late from the clinic again.”
“Perfect,” he grins. “See, that wasn’t so hard now, was it?”
Knowing he only means well, you decide to be a good sport about it and smile at him. “No, Tommy. I suppose it wasn’t.”
“Great!” Maria beams. “We haven’t had a chance to get together for dinner in months. Lately when I see Luke, it’s as his patient,” she muses. “I have to admit, it’ll be so nice to have a conversation with him that doesn’t revolve around my uterus for once.”
Tommy jokingly makes a face. “Yeah. Tell the doc to leave all that medical stuff at the door before he comes over. Last thing I wanna hear ‘bout while I’m chowin’ down on some big, juicy bison steaks is what fuckin’ size my wife’s uterus is—”
“Tommy! That’s not funny!” Rolling her eyes at her husband, Maria turns to you to apologize but she stops short when she notices a sudden, not to mention drastic, change in your complexion. Frowning, she reaches up and touches your cheek. “Hey, you don’t look so good. Are you feeling alright?”
You can taste the bile at the back of your throat.
“I—I’m sorry, what did you just say was for dinner?”
Tommy shoots you a strange look. “Uh, steaks?”
The mere mention of the word sends a violent wave of sickness crashing over you—slapping your hand tightly over your mouth, you scramble to jump off the couch and make a beeline for their downstairs bathroom right across the hallway. You’d made it just in time to fall to your knees in front of the toilet. Clutching the sides of the porcelain bowl, you gag loudly, and the sickening sound of your retching bounces off the walls.
As your stomach heaves, you feel one hand gather your hair to hold it back and out of your face, while the other rubs soothing circles into your back.
“Let it all out,” Maria encourages you. “It’s alright, just let it all out. There you go, get everything out.”
Tommy pokes his head into the bathroom.
“She okay?”
“Tommy! Get out of here!” Maria scolds him over her shoulder. “She doesn’t need an audience!”
He holds up his hands. “Alright, alright! Sheesh, I was just makin’ sure she’s okay, you ain’t gotta bite my head off!” He huffs at her. “I’ll be in the kitchen if you two need me.” Without another word, he spins around on the heel of his boot and disappears.
Once you’re certain there’s nothing left, your trembling hand reaches for the handle on the tank and pulls it down, flushing the toilet. You then sit back, slumping against the wall. “Jesus. I am so fucking sorry. I have no idea what the hell came over me,” you groan, the embarrassment evident in your tone as you wipe at your mouth with the sleeve of your flannel shirt.
Maria peers at you with a suspicious glint in her eyes.
“You know,” she says, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear, “About five months ago, I went through a phase where I couldn’t stand the thought of meat—any kind, but red meat had to be the worst. I just could not stomach it.” Her hand falls away from your face and she rises to her feet with a labored grunt. Leaning back against the sink, she continues to say, “Poor Tommy, he couldn’t even mention it to me or I’d throw up on his boots. Not long after that, I found out I was pregnant.”
You stare at her, your lips parting slightly. “Maria, you can’t seriously be insinuating—I am not pregnant. No, it’s not possible, you know that I can’t have kids,” you sputter out, furiously shaking your head. “There’s just no fucking way that I’m—”
Maria holds up her hands to stop you. “When was the date of your last menstrual cycle?”
“It was recent.”
“How recent?”
Silently, you start counting the weeks and you freeze the moment you realize you’d missed September completely, and October’s cycle had been due two weeks ago. You’ve been so lost in your own grief, so busy trying to keep yourself from falling apart, that you hadn’t even realized you haven’t bled since—
“August,” you breathe out in a terrified whisper.
The last time you had your period was in August.
August.
Before you had slept with Joel Miller for the first time.
Maria whirls around and starts digging in the medicine cabinet above the sink, and then in the one below it. After a minute of rummaging, she turns back around and extends a hand out to you, offering to help you to your feet. She lets out another grunt as she helps you stand. “I had one left,” she states, holding out her other hand to you, an individually wrapped pregnancy test in her palm. “At this point, I don’t think you even need to take a test, but it doesn’t hurt to have solid proof.”
You can hardly choke out her name. “Maria—”
She hastily shoves the test into your hands. “Just take it. I’ll be back in to check on you, okay?”
Not giving you the chance to protest, she steps out of the bathroom, closing the door behind her.
You look down at the test in your palm and then up into the mirror, meeting your own wide eyes in the reflection.
It can’t be possible. It just can’t be possible.
You can’t have children.
With shaking hands, you unzip your blue jeans and then tear open the package. Your mind is in such a haze, you have to read the instructions three or four times before the information finally sticks. After taking the test, you lay it down top of the counter with the results window facing down. You pull your panties and jeans back into place and wash your hands using the bar of soap next to the sink—all the while, the sheer panic has started to settle in, the fear that accompanies it seeping deep into your bones.
Swallowing harshly, you realize it’d been well over the three minutes the package had instructed you to wait for the results.
“It’s negative. It’s negative,” you affirm quietly over and over underneath your breath as you pick it up and flip it in your hand. “It’s negative. It’s negative—”
You stop, and for a second, your heart feels like it stops too.
Horrified, you blink furiously, as if somehow you’ve misread the results—but there is no fucking mistaking those two solid little pink lines.
Your blood runs cold in your veins.
You’re pregnant.
Luke hasn’t touched you in months.
And you’re pregnant.
Luke hasn’t touched you in months.
And you are fucking pregnant.
Maria knocks lightly on the bathroom door.
“It’s been a few minutes now—can I come in?”
She waits, only to be met with complete silence.
“Hey, hon.” She knocks again. “Is everything okay?”
Again, there’s no response from the other side of the door.
“Christ, Maria.” Tommy suddenly appears beside her with a glass of water in his hand. Flashing his wife a teasing look, he quips, “Can’t you let the poor girl do her goddamn business in peace? What’s wrong with you, woman?”
Maria frowns. “I think something’s wrong.”
His playful grin falters. “What do you mean?”
“She’s not answering me.”
Tommy chortles, quirking an eyebrow at her. “Maybe ‘cause she’s actually in there doin’ her business?”
Hesitantly, Maria bites down on her bottom lip.
“What? What is it?”
“I gave her a pregnancy test to take.”
Tommy’s eyes widen. “You fuckin’ with me?”
Maria glares at him. “No! I’m not fucking with you, I’m being serious! I gave her the test and then told her I would check back in with her after she took it, but now she’s not answering me and I’m kind of worried.”
“The door locked?”
She shakes her head. “No, I don’t think it is. Should we just open the door and see if she’s okay? I don’t want to barge in there but—”
Tommy hands Maria the glass of water. “Hey,” he calls lightly as he raps on the door with his fist. “Everythin’ alright in there?” He waits for a minute, but when you don’t reply, he grasps the brass doorknob in his hand and says sternly, “Now you listen here, little lady. You had best answer me right now, or we’re gonna have to come in, you understand me?”
Silence.
“Last chance, talk or I’m gonna open this door.”
Nothing.
“Alright then, suit yourself. Hope you’re decent.”
Tommy turns the knob, cracking the door open—when he doesn’t see you, he tries pushing it open further. The door stops halfway, and he peers around it only to find you sitting on the floor with your back against the wall, preventing the door from going any further. “Shit, she’s sittin’ right behind the goddamn—fuckin’ hold on, Maria! If I try shovin’ it open, I could hurt her!” Being careful so as not to hit you or step on you by accident, he squeezes his way into the bathroom. He crouches down beside you, cupping your cheek in the palm of his hand. “Hey, what is it? What’s the matter?”
Your eyes flicker up to meet his.
You can’t speak. You can’t move.
All that you can do is stare at him. Petrified.
“C’mon, little lady,” he coaxes, softly. “Talk to me.”
“Tommy! Let me in!” Maria demands, impatiently. “Can you move her? I can’t squeeze through, my belly is way too big.”
Tommy slides one arm around your shoulders and the other arm under your knees. “I’m just gonna move you out the way so Maria can come in, alright? C’mere.” He gingerly slides you across the tile and cradles the side of your body against his chest. He then calls out to his wife, “There, that should be enough room!”
Maria pushes the door open and rushes inside. “Is she okay?” Gripping Tommy’s shoulder, she slowly lowers herself to kneel beside you. Her eyes go straight to the test clutched in your hand. She just about has to pry your ice cold fingers off the white stick one by one. “It’s positive,” she gasps. “Your results are positive—you’re going to have a baby!”
Tommy lets out a loud, gleeful laugh. “Did’ya hear that, little lady? You’re gonna have a baby! You’re gonna be a mama! Ain’t that great news?”
Finally, you snap out of your trance. Your eyes anxiously bounce between Tommy and Maria, heart pounding as they eagerly wait for your reaction with smiles of pure excitement on their faces.
“I—” Unable to utter another word, you burst into tears.
And they’re certainly not tears of happiness.
No, the sobs coming from deep within you aren’t full of joy at the news that you’re going to be a mother.
They’re pained. Cries full of sorrow, anguish, and fear. As the confusion flashes across their faces, all you can do is weep harder, and louder.
“Wait a minute, I thought you would be happy.” Maria’s hands reach for yours and she holds them tightly as she tries to understand what it is that is causing such a negative reaction. “You and Luke tried for a really long time to have another baby. Why are you so upset?” She keeps her voice calm, kind. Warm. It wasn’t that she was judging you—Maria wants to help you, however there’s no way for her to help you if she doesn’t know what’s causing your grief in the first place. “What’s the matter, honey? Are you afraid after what happened last time?”
“I can’t be pregnant,” you rasp out. “I can’t—”
“Hey now, it’s alright. C’mere.” Tommy shifts and he moves to sit down beside you against the wall. His arm drapes around your trembling shoulders in an effort to comfort you. As your entire body shudders with sobs, he pulls you close against his side, rubbing your arm with his hand. Once they’ve subsided and little hiccups are all that are left, he finally speaks again. “You can talk to us, little lady. ‘Bout anythin’ that’s on your mind. We care ‘bout you a whole lot. Y’know that, don’t you?”
“Tommy’s right,” Maria nods. “You’re like family to us. You can come to us about anything. We’ll do whatever we can to help you, okay?”
You shake your head tightly. “I can’t. I just can’t.”
She lets out a small sigh and glances at her husband with a look of defeat. “I think you should run down to the clinic and get Luke. He’ll know what to do to calm her down.”
“No!” you shout loudly, startling them both. “I—Luke can’t find out that I’m pregnant. He just can’t know, or else—” A fresh batch of tears spring forward as you clamp a hand over your mouth, muffling another wail.
“Or else what?” Maria asks, raising an eyebrow.
Or else he was going to fucking kill you.
Tommy grabs your wrist, gently tugging it away from your face. “Or else what?” He echoes his wife. “What is goin’ on? Is there somethin’ we should know ‘bout?”
Yet another sob escapes you and his fingers curl tighter around your wrist, firmly, but he’s careful not to be too harsh.
“We’re gonna need you to tell us what’s goin’ on.”
There’s no way around it. Around any of it.
You have to tell them.
Swallowing harshly, you admit, “There is.”
The couple waits expectantly.
“The baby isn’t Luke’s.” You mumble it so quietly and incoherently that neither of them hear it despite being in such close proximity.
Maria furrows an eyebrow. “What did you say?”
“The baby isn’t Luke’s!” You cry out, yanking your wrist out of Tommy’s hand. “This baby isn’t his and that’s why he can’t fucking know!”
And just like that, the truth comes tumbling out.
Luke’s violence towards you.
Your romantic affair with Joel.
Ellie discovering the abuse and telling him about it.
Your stubborn refusal to let either of them do anything to help you.
You spare no details of everything that had taken place over the last several months, and by the time you had finally finished, both Tommy and Maria were rendered completely speechless.
“Can one of you say something? Please? Anything at all?” Your voice is small, feeble.
After a minute, Tommy pulls his arm from around your shoulders and stands up. He helps Maria up to her feet before he extends his hand to you. “Alright, first thing’s first. Let me get you up off this floor, little lady.”
His voice is soft, and so is his gaze.
“Tommy how can you—after everything that I’ve done? Your brother—”
“Please. Just let me help you off the floor and then we can talk ‘bout it. Okay?”
You accept his hand, allowing him to pull you to your feet. Much to your surprise, he doesn’t let it go as he leads you out of the bathroom and back into the living room where he sits you down on the couch. Maria, who hasn’t said a single word, takes a seat beside you.
Tommy kneels down in front of you, placing a warm and gentle hand on your leg. He almost looks a little bit guilty, as if he should have known what was being done to you behind closed doors. “Look, m’gonna ask you a question and I need an honest answer. How long has he been doin’ this to you?”
Anxiously, you start wringing your hands in your lap.
“Tommy, I can’t. Please, don’t—”
“Tell me,” he encourages you, softly. “When did it first start?”
Your throat bobs. “Two months after my dad died,” you confess, another tear rolling down the side of your face.
Maria stiffens. “Luke has been putting his hands on you for two years?”
“Yes.”
You can hear the shame in your own voice—shame for letting the abuse go on as long as it has, for everything to come to light like this.
“Fuckin’ hell.” Tommy sighs heavily and hangs his head. “Joel told me. He fuckin’ told me.”
You wipe at your swollen eyes with your forearm.
“What are you talking about, Tommy?”
He sighs again.
“Months ago, the day after the big summer party,” he begins to explain. “We were at the bar. Joel was askin’ me ‘bout you and Luke. Said somethin’ just wasn’t right when he saw you two together for the first time. He tried to tell me somethin’ was wrong and I—I didn’t fuckin’ believe him. Told him he was seein’ what he wanted to see ‘cause I knew he liked you. I fuckin’ told him that you and Luke were happy. He tried to tell me and I didn’t fuckin’ listen to him.”
“Tommy, please don’t blame yourself for this,” you beg him. “I’m the one who chose to hide it. This is my own fault, okay? This is all on me, not on you.”
Maria furiously shakes her head. “It’s not your fault and it sure as hell isn’t on you. You’re the victim here.”
Victim.
The word makes you cringe.
“But it is my fault, Maria. I hid it from you guys for two fucking years.”
“But why? Why did you hide it? Why didn’t you come to us?” Tommy’s voice is strained. “You should’ve told us what he was doin’ to you. We—I could’a done somethin’ to stop it. I could’a helped you.”
“Because. I didn’t want to risk getting him thrown out of the community. Jackson needs him, Tommy.”
“Like hell we do,” Tommy rises to his feet. “Ain’t no way that we’re gonna tolerate that fuckin’ shit here.” With his hands curled tightly into fists, he spins around and starts heading towards the front door.
You stand and chase after him, catching him just as he opens it. “Where the hell are you going?”
“To confront that pathetic son of a bitch—”
“Tommy, please! Don’t do that.” Grabbing his arm, you shoot him a pleading look. “Please, think about this for a minute.”
“Ain’t nothin’ for me to fuckin’ think ‘bout, alright?”
“Yes, there fucking is! This town needs a doctor. They need Luke—Maria needs Luke.” You glance over at her just as she appears in the hallway with both hands on her belly. “God forbid that something goes wrong—she goes into preterm labor or she has a complication when she gives birth. Did you think about that?”
“We’ve got two nurses,” he reminds you.
“Two nurses who only know basic neonatal care. That’s it. If something serious happens, Maria’s going to need Luke. And the baby’s going to need him too.”
You knew you’d gotten your point across when Tommy turns to his wife, helplessly.
“Fuck,” he curses, slamming the door shut. “She’s right. I fuckin’ hate to say it, but she’s right ‘bout that.”
“I am right,” you state and his attention flits back to you. “Luke has to stay and you both know that as well as I do. For the good of Jackson, he has to stay.”
Conflicted, Tommy growls out in frustration. “So what, I’m just s’pposed to give him a fuckin’ pass? How the hell can you expect us—how can you expect me to let that motherfucker walk around this place knowin’ what he’s been doin’ to you over these last two years?”
Your fingers dig into his arm, a fresh batch of hot tears stinging your eyes. “Tommy, if this community suffers without Luke because of me, it will destroy me. The guilt will fucking destroy me.”
Finally, Maria decides to step in. “Listen, I know that you’re trying to look out for the people of this town and I get that. But you’re risking your own life by asking us to let him stay here.” She walks over to you, taking your hands in hers. “Honey, I know men like Luke because I used to prosecute men like Luke. I would take them to court on murder charges.” Her eyes find yours. “I don’t want to scare you, but if that is the only way for me to get through to you, then I will sit you down and I will tell you all about what happened to the women who swore to me their abusive husbands would never, ever take it that far.”
You swallow harshly and a chill runs up your spine.
“I’ll leave,” you squeak. “I’ll leave him.”
“And what if he doesn’t let you walk away?”
Tommy crosses his arms over his chest. “He will if I’m the one who fuckin’ talks to him. I ain’t gonna give him the choice. He has to let her go.”
Panicked, you furiously shake your head. “No! I can do this on my own, Tommy. I can handle him alone. I don’t need you to do it for me. I can fix this without your help, okay?”
“You can’t,” he says, firmly. “You just can’t.”
“Yes, I can—”
He cuts you off with a pleading look.
“You need to let us help you. Please. Let us help you.”
You had agreed to it, but only on one condition.
“I need a couple of days,” you’d told them.
Tommy frowned. “No. It’s happenin’ tonight. We’re gonna talk to Luke, you’re gonna pack up a couple bags, and we’re gettin’ you away from him. You can stay here with us for a while. You’ll be safe.” Taking notice of the shocked look on your face, he said, “I know you ain’t crazy enough to think I’m gonna let you go home to him tonight. Ain’t no way in hell.”
“I—this is all happening so fast. It’s too overwhelming, Tommy. I just need a day or two to process everything before I take that leap.”
“And give Luke the fuckin’ chance to hurt you again?”
“He hasn’t laid a finger on me in weeks now.”
Tommy scoffed, “Well, someone give him a fuckin’ medal!” He exclaimed, throwing his hands up. “He hasn’t hit his wife in weeks! What a fuckin’ guy!”
You recoiled, his sarcasm stinging like he’d poured salt straight into the open wound.
“Tommy,” Maria glared at him. “Not helping.”
He immediately shot you an apologetic look.
“Shit. Sorry, little lady. I’m just real worried ‘bout you. I don’t like the idea of you goin’ home to him tonight, and much less knowin’ that you’re pregnant, y’know?” His eyes had fallen to your stomach with sudden curiosity. “When, uh—when do you plan on tellin’ Joel ‘bout the baby, anyway?”
Heat flooded your face and neck.
“I—I’m not really sure about that yet.”
“Jesus Christ, Tommy! She just told you that she’s feeling overwhelmed,” Maria chastised him. “Let’s take it one step at a time, okay? Our first priority is going to be to get her out of that house. She has already agreed to letting us help her, so I think there’s a bit of room for compromise. Here’s the deal.” She put a hand on your shoulder. “As much as I don’t want to let you go home to him tonight either, I’m going to allow it so you can take a breather. Tomorrow in the afternoon when you get home from work duty, I’ll come over and help you pack some clothes and necessities, and we can bring them over here to our place.”
Nervously chewing your lower lip, you asked, “And then what?”
“I’ll go confront Luke,” Tommy stated. “Best if you ain’t there when I talk to him, little lady.” He turned to Maria, placing a hand on her belly. “I don’t want you to be there either, sweetheart. I ain’t takin’ any chances and puttin’ you and the baby under stress so I’m gonna have to handle him alone, alright?”
Maria nodded, shifting her attention back to you. “So? Do we have a deal?”
Meekly, you had nodded in agreement. “Yes. We have a deal.”
The rest of that evening passes by in a blur.
Autopilot had taken over the moment that Tommy took you across the road and dropped you off at your door.
“Any problems, you come get me,” he’d said. “You come and get me. No matter what time it is, alright? You fuckin’ come and get me if he tries anythin’.”
All that you could do was give him a weak nod and then you’d turned around, slipping into the house.
You don’t remember cooking dinner.
You don’t remember looking at the clock, noticing it was well past dinnertime and realizing that Luke would be home late as usual. You don’t remember fixing him a plate and leaving it on top of the stove for him to find when he came home, storing all of the leftovers, and washing the small pile of dirty dishes in the sink.
You don’t remember heading upstairs afterwards, you don't remember taking a long shower, brushing your teeth or changing into your pajamas.
It wasn’t until hours later, when the bedroom door opened and Luke walked in, that autopilot finally disengaged.
“You’re still up?”
You’d been sitting on the foot of the bed anxiously picking at your fingernails without even realizing it until he glared at you—he’d always hated the habit and spent months smacking it out of you.
Ceasing from messing with your hands, you drop them into your lap.
“You’re home really late again,” you say, quietly.
“I made a last minute house call. John’s little boy came down with a hell of a fever tonight.” Luke sets down his satchel bag and shrugs out of his jacket—as he does so, you catch sight of the tiny, reddish purple bruise on his neck, right below his ear. Draping his jacket over a nearby chair, he arches his brow as if he were silently challenging you to confront him, as if he’s daring you to ask him who had given him a love bite.
You don’t care. You don’t care about what or who Luke has been doing over the last several nights when he’s been coming home so much later than usual.
Kicking off his black boots, he saunters over to you, his mouth stretching into a cruel, satisfied little smirk.
Oh, he knows damn well you’ve already figured it out.
He wanted you to figure it out.
“Spend the afternoon at Tommy and Maria’s again?”
“Yes. I did.”
“I see.” He hums. “She was telling me during her exam this morning at the clinic that you’ve been helping her knit some clothes for the baby. Is that so?”
“I have,” you murmur, looking down to avert his curious gaze as he stops in front of you. “We’ve been making blankets for the baby, too.”
Luke cups your chin, forcing your eyes back up to meet his. “Well, isn’t that sweet of you.” He roughly curls his fingers around your jaw, his thumb brushing along your quivering lower lip. He hums again. “Something about you seems different, darling. Been looking a lot prettier to me these days.” He lets go of your jaw and brushes your hair behind your shoulder, his finger skimming the strap of your cotton pajama top. “How long has it been now, sweetheart?”
Your throat goes dry, your lips parting in shock as Luke pulls it down your arm, his palm grazing over your skin.
No. This can’t be happening. He wants to—?
Without waiting for a response, Luke grabs one of your hands and places it over his belt buckle.
Noticing your expression, he laughs again. “Why do you look so surprised?”
“You—you haven’t wanted to touch me in months.”
Luke shrugs. “Well, what can I say? I’m suddenly in the mood for my pretty little wife’s cunt.” His grin stretches from ear to ear. “Who knows, maybe we’ll get lucky this time. Maybe we’ll have a little one of our own running around this place. I’m feeling rather optimistic tonight.”
You’re going to be fucking sick all over him.
No, you can’t let him do this to you.
You can’t let him touch you.
He pushes your hand lower, right over his bulge.
“No!” Tearing your hand away, you jump up and roughly shove him away from you. “Don’t you fucking touch me!”
He stumbles backwards, but he catches himself before he can fall.
Your chest heaves a d he stares at you, bewildered at what you had just done. “I’m so sorry that whoever you fucked before you came home wasn’t enough for you, but you are not fucking touching me,” you spit at him. “In fact, you’re never touching me ever again because I’m leaving. I’m done, Luke.”
“Excuse me?”
“You fucking heard me.” Your voice trembles—you can’t be sure if it trembles out of anger or out of the sheer terror you feel. Maybe it’s a bit of both. “It’s over, Luke. This marriage is fucking over. I’m not putting up with what you’ve been doing to me for the past two years. I’m not going to tolerate it. Not anymore. I’m not going to allow you to keep on hurting me.” Lifting your hand, you slide your wedding band off of your finger and toss it at him. It clinks as it lands on the hardwood floor near his feet. “I’ll be out of the house by tomorrow evening.”
“Let me take a guess.” He speaks calmly, much too calmly, as he starts towards you. The time bomb has started ticking. “You’re going to move in with Joel Miller and his feral little rat of a kid?”
Hands curling into fists at your sides, you seethe, “Where I move is none of your fucking business, Luke.” He steps closer and your courage starts to falter. You can feel yourself wanting to back down—the thought of your unborn child is the only thing that keeps you from completely losing your nerve. “Here is the deal. You’re going to let me leave and you’re going to stay the fuck away from me. If you do that, then I won’t tell anyone anything about the things you’ve done to me. It’ll be like none of it ever happened. We both move on with our lives. Separately. Got it?”
He draws closer and closer. Much too close.
“Oh, you silly, silly girl,” he tsks. “Do you really think you can call the shots? Do you really fucking think you have the upper hand here? That you can make the decision to end this marriage, just like that?”
Closer, until his chest brushes against yours.
“Luke, I’m giving you a fucking chance here,” you say, backing away until the back of your knees hit the edge of the mattress. With nowhere else to go, to run, you fall backwards onto the bed, scrambling up towards the headboard. Your heart is pounding, too hard and too fast—would it give out before he even has the chance to get his hands on you? “Luke, please, just let me go.” Clasping your hands together in a plea, you beg him, your back pressed against the headboard, “If at any point in our relationship you loved me—if at any point in our marriage you actually cared about me, you will fucking let me go in peace. Please. Just let me go. Let me fucking go.”
Luke stands at the foot of the bed, his face blank.
Emotionless. There isn’t a single ounce of compassion in his eyes. No mercy.
“Please,” you whisper once more. Curling both of your arms around yourself, you subconsciously protect your belly.
Luke reaches down and unbuckles his belt.
You watch, your stomach churning, as he slowly slides the black leather from the loops of his jeans.
“I’m not letting you go anywhere.”
“I mean it, Joel. Stay away from Luke.”
Joel clutches his stallion’s reins tightly in his hands as the pair fall into a slow, easy trot behind Tommy and his horse, Ranger.
He follows his brother as he leads the way through the quiet, tranquil plains of Wyoming. Instead of scanning their surroundings for signs of potential danger, all Joel can do is think about you—that was all he could ever do these days, was fucking think about you and about that fucking night.
The memory plays over and over in his mind on a loop, torturing him day in and day out. It never fucking stops. Repeat, repeat, repeat.
“I mean it, Joel. Stay away from Luke. And maybe it’s for the best if you just fucking stay away from me too.”
That’s precisely what he had done. He had stayed away from Luke. And against his better judgement, he had stayed away from you, too.
“How’s it feel to be back out here?” Tommy asks over his shoulder. He tugs at the reins and gives Ranger the cue to slow his trot, giving Joel and his horse, Bandit, the chance to catch up and ride at their side. “Bet you couldn’t be fuckin’ happier to be off house arrest, huh?” he adds, a light joking edge to his tone.
After about four and a half weeks, Joel had made a full recovery, and he was cleared to return to patrol duties. Wanting to ease him back into the swing of things after so much time off, Tommy decided to pair up with Joel as his partner for that morning’s watch. The two took a route just a few miles west of the community, one that was scoured every couple of days since it was so close to Jackson’s main gate.
“S’alright,” he mutters with a shrug that causes him to wince. His shoulder’s still a little sore. Ellie had assisted with his physical therapy, badgering him every single night to do the exercises in some book she’d found in the town’s library with Dina’s help. He had full range of motion again, and that’s all Tommy had needed in order to allow him to return to patrol.
“You feelin’ alright?” His brother notices the slight look of discomfort on his face. “Shoulder’s good?”
“Any particular reason you’re bein’ so annoyin’ today?”
Tommy feigns offense. “You got fuckin’ shot, Joel. Just makin’ sure you’re okay. Jesus.”
Joel lets out a small huff through his nose. “M’fine,” he assures him. “Shoulder’s good. Still hurts a little and the cold weather ain’t doin’ a whole lot to help, but ain’t nothin’ I can’t handle.” Sitting back in his saddle, he lets his thighs close around Bandit. “Whoa,” he utters to the animal, his fingers squeezing the reins as he signals for Bandit to come to a halt.
“What’s the matter? Why are we stoppin’?”
“This route’s clear, Tommy. We should turn around and go find the rest of the group. Check and see if the other routes are clear too.” Joel clicks his tongue, prompting Bandit to move again. He steers the stallion and starts turning around to lead them back east, but then stops once more. He glimpses over at Tommy, who hasn’t moved a muscle. Noticing the odd, pensive expression on his face, Joel frowns, asking, “What’s wrong?”
Tommy chews the inside of his cheek, his apprehension written all over his face. “Uh Joel, there’s something we need to talk ‘bout and maybe it’s best if we do it while we’re out here, just the two of us.”
Confused, Joel’s eyebrows pull together. “What is it?”
His brother hesitates. His lips purse together, a sudden look of regret flashing across his features.
“Tommy?” Joel prompts. “The hell’s goin’ on?”
Exhaling a heavy sigh, he states, “You were right.”
“Right ‘bout what?”
“‘Bout Luke.”
Joel freezes in the seat of his saddle.
“You were fuckin’ right ‘bout him mistreatin’ her.”
His grip around the reins tightens, skin stretching thin over his knuckles so tight they’d gone white.
“She was over at mine yesterday afternoon. Ended up tellin’ me and Maria everthin’ ‘bout Luke and what he’s done.” Rolling his lower lip between his teeth, Tommy pauses for a second before repeating, “You were right. You were fuckin’ right ‘bout that bastard from the start and I’m real sorry that I didn’t fuckin’ believe you, Joel.”
Joel’s mind begins to race.
What had prompted you to finally tell Tommy and Maria about the abuse? Did something happen to you that he didn’t know about?
Ellie had been pretty good about keeping him posted. He would ask her about you the very minute she’d walk through the front door after her shift at the stables and she would provide him a full report.
“She’s fine. She ain’t hurt,” Tommy reassures him, as if he’d read his mind. “We’re plannin’ on movin’ her outta the house later on tonight.”
“What?” Finally, Joel speaks, his voice rigid.
Tommy holds his hands up in defense. “Now, hold on. I need you to give me a minute and let me explain—”
“She told you Luke’s been abusin’ her and you just let her go back to him? Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me? Why didn’t you and Maria fuckin’ stop her?”
“Why didn’t you fuckin’ stop her the night you saw the bruise on her?” He shoots back at him.
Joel stares at him, his lips parting slightly.
How did he fucking know about that?
“She told us the truth ‘bout the affair too, Joel.”
“She did?”
“She did,” Tommy confirms with a nod. “I had a hunch, y’know. The day of the ambush, I thought I saw panic in her eyes when I told Ellie you’d been shot. Then I saw it again when she saw you there sittin’ on that table with a bullet in your shoulder, but I brushed it off. Thought she was just real worried ‘bout the kid seein’ as those two are thick as fuckin’ thieves, y’know?” Despite the serious nature of the conversation, he can’t help but let out a chuckle when he thinks of you and Ellie. “But now I know she was scared of losin’ you. That girl loves you, Joel. I know you love her too. I’m willin’ to bet it’s the reason you let her walk away that night. Why you kept her secret.”
“Jesus.” Joel exhales a shaky breath. “Y’must think I’m a real fuckin’ coward for knowin’ what he’s been doin’ to her and not doin’ a goddamn thing ‘bout it, huh?”
Tommy shakes his head.
“It’s a complicated situation, brother. She only did what she did for the good of the community. She’s still trying to do what’s best for Jackson, believe it or not. She, uh, she wants us to let Luke stay.”
“She wants you to let him stay?”
“Girl’s got too big of a heart. Doesn’t want the town to be without a doctor.”
“Ain’t no goddamn way you’d let him stay! After all the fuckin’ shit he’s done to her?” When his brother doesn’t respond, Joel narrows his eyes at him. “Jesus Christ. You can’t fuckin’ tell me you’re actually considerin’ it? Are you fuckin’ serious, Tommy? You and Maria would let that son of a bitch stay in Jackson? Knowin’ he’s spent two fuckin’ years puttin’ his hands on his wife?”
“Look here, alright? I don’t like the idea as much as you don’t, and neither does Maria,” he says. “But this ain’t exactly black and white, Joel. I really fuckin’ wish it was. But the hard truth is that Jackson does need a doctor, and unless one magically falls out of the fuckin’ sky, we ain’t got much of a choice here. My wife and child, they might need him, y’know? Maria’s considered a high risk ‘cause of her age. If somethin’ happens and there’s complications when she’s in labor, she and the baby are gonna need him. Our nurses, they ain’t really trained to handle things like that, y’know?”
Joel’s lips press together into a tight, thin line.
Of course it’s black and white to him—because he loves you. You’re his fucking priority. There’s no gray area for him. None.
But Tommy? His priority is Maria and their unborn child.
Joel can’t fault him for that, and he certainly isn’t going to try. But what about you?
“Listen, Joel. I know this is real fuckin’ hard, believe me I do. I care about that girl a lot, a whole fuckin’ lot. I saw her as family long before I knew ‘bout your relationship with her and before I knew she was—”
He stops abruptly, red splotching his cheeks.
Joel still doesn’t know he is going to be a father. Again.
“Before you knew she was what, Tommy?”
“Tommy!” A woman’s voice shouts. “Joel! Over here!”
The two brothers glance over their shoulders and see the rest of their morning patrol group heading towards them.
Tommy bites back a sigh of utter relief. That had been too fucking close.
He turns to Joel, lowering his voice. “Joel, I need you to listen, and listen to me real good. We’ve gotta take this one step at a time. First thing’s first, me and Maria are gonna get her outta that house. She can stay with us at our place for a while. She’ll be safe with us. That much I can promise you.”
“Then what?”
“Don’t know yet. We get her out first and then we figure things out from there. In the meantime, I’m gonna need you to stay calm, Joel. Please. Don’t go off and do somethin’ stupid, alright?”
That had been a lot easier said than done.
Joel needed to talk to you.
He needed to fucking see you.
But his brother had been adamant.
“Don’t fuckin’ get involved, Joel. Not ‘til we get her out. I don’t want things to fuckin’ explode in our faces, alright? Let me handle this.”
Letting out a heavy sigh, Joel leans back into the couch and looks down at the guitar in his lap—he’d just spent the last hour carefully polishing it in an effort to keep himself occupied. He thought back to that night you’d come over to gift it to him, how he had kissed you for the first time mere hours before you showed up on his doorstep with your father’s Gibson.
As he gives the guitar a gentle test strum, he recalls the request you made for him to sing you a song and a dull ache settles in his chest, right over his heart. He’ll sing you every song you want to hear, if given the chance.
Part of him is optimistic that he would get the chance.
You were meant to be his. He was meant to be yours.
He just fucking knows it.
Joel’s train of thought is shattered by the sound of the front door opening, and then loudly slamming shut.
“Ellie?” He calls out.
Her voice comes from the hallway. “Yeah?”
“C’mere, kiddo.”
Ellie grumbles incoherently as she walks into the living room, hair disheveled, clothes filthy, and her sneakers caked with muck from the stables.
Joel frowns at her. “What the hell happened to you?”
“Today was just really fucking shitty and while that was a great pun, for once, it was not fucking intended,” she sighs, crossing her arms over her chest. “If you called me in here to ask me about her, I’d save my breath. She stayed home today. She’s sick.”
Joel’s stomach instantly drops. “She’s sick?”
“Yeah. With like a really bad cold or something.”
Putting down the guitar, he questions, “And who told you that?”
“Dina,” Ellie replies, looking puzzled. “She said Luke told her—” She stops abruptly as he jumps to his feet and immediately shoves past her, heading towards the front door. She spins around on her heel, following him. As he flies down the porch and starts down the road towards your house, she is forced to jog along beside him just to keep up with his stride. “What, what? What is it? Fucking answer me, Joel, what is it?”
“She ain’t fuckin’ sick, Ellie.”
“What do you mean she’s not—oh fuck. You don’t think she’s hiding out at home because—?” Ellie’s heartbeat stutters when the realization sinks in. “Luke.”
When the pair arrive at your place, they find a very, very distraught Maria Miller standing on the front porch, her hands wrapped around the doorknob. “Hon, I need you to let me in!” She turns and pulls the knob, desperately. “Please! Open the door for me!”
Your tearful voice comes from the other side. “Go away, Maria!”
The sound of Joel’s boots prompt Maria to turn around. “Joel,” she breathes out his name in relief. “I can’t get her to open the door. Tommy went to see if we have a spare key for the unit. He hasn’t come back and I don’t know what to do.”
“Break a fucking window, maybe?” Ellie snaps at her.
Joel silences her with a glare and then takes Maria by her arms, moving her to stand behind him. “Open the goddamn door!” he commands firmly, pounding his fist harshly against the wood. He can almost feel the way you freeze on the other side the moment you hear the sound of his voice. “Open this fuckin’ door right now!”
Ellie chimes in, “Come on, please open the door!”
“Go away!”
Joel continues to beat his fists against the door. “Show me what he fuckin’ did to you!” He shouts as he drops his hands to the doorknob, clawing at it as if somehow that’s going to do the trick and open the door. “C’mon! Show me what that fuckin’ bastard did to you!”
“Please, go away, all of you! Just leave me alone!”
“You know we can’t do that,” Maria calls. “You’re going to have to open this door and let us—”
Losing what very little patience he has to begin with in the first place, Joel cuts her off. “I will fuckin’ break this door down if I have to,” he threatens. “I’ll cause a scene and let everyone in this whole fuckin’ town know what Luke does to you. Is that what you want?”
He hears the lock click almost instantly.
Finally, you crack the door open and peek out to show them your face. “There, you fucking see?” Your face is blotchy, your eyes red and swollen from crying. “I’m fucking fine! Now fucking go away!”
You try shutting the door, but Joel is too quick and slips the toe of his boot in, wedging it between the door and the doorframe.
“Move, Joel!”
“Nope,” he says, keeping it planted firmly in place.
Not wanting to break his foot, you let up and he shoves his way inside with Ellie and Maria trailing behind him.
Taking a clumsy step backwards, you gather up the front of your knitted cardigan in your trembling hands, bunching it around your neck to conceal it. “Get out! Please, just get out!” you beg them through your sobs. “Please leave! I’m fine! Look at me, I’m perfectly fine—”
Heart hammering painfully against his sternum, Joel walks over and he takes your wrists. “Let me see. Baby, please. Just let me see.” His voice is raw, thick, as if he were on the verge of tears himself. He just knows he’s failed you, failed to keep all those promises he had made about never letting anything bad happen to you. He’s fucking failed. Again. He tries to find your gaze, but you refuse to look him in the eye. “Let me see,” he chokes out again, the warmth of his skin a stark contrast against the iciness of your own. “I’ll force you if I have to, so please just show me. Please, just fuckin’ show me what he did to you.”
Letting out another agonized sob, you drop your hands and let go of the material, letting it fall back into place at your sides and exposing your injury.
Maria gasps into her hands. “God.”
“Fuck.” Ellie’s eyes widen in complete horror.
Joel drops your wrists, taking a step backwards as his eyes glaze over the severe discoloration around your neck.
He feels fucking sick to his stomach, but it isn’t until he notices the clear imprint of a square belt buckle on the column of your throat that Joel thinks he might actually be sick all over the floor.
“What the hell is going on in here?”
Luke’s voice suddenly echoes through the foyer. He stands near the front door, looking thoroughly confused—that is, until he sees you standing there, exposing what he had done to you the night before with his belt. The very same belt he’s wearing now.
No one has the chance to speak.
No one has the chance to think.
No one even has the chance to breathe.
Joel charges at Luke. He roughly snatches the collar of his jacket and pulls him further into the foyer of the house, away from the open front door so that he has nowhere to run.
You rush towards them. “Joel, stop! No!”
Maria quickly hurries to stop you, grabbing you by the back of your sweater. She yanks you back and out of harm’s way. “Don’t!”
Horrified, you watch as Joel slams Luke straight into the mirror hanging on the wall—head first. He pulls him forward, then slams him back even harder, the impact completely shattering the glass. Hundreds of shards go flying across the hardwood floor.
“Oh shit! Watch out!” Ellie jumps back as a sharp piece of broken glass lands between her sneakers.
“Joel, stop it! Please, stop!” you cry out as Maria grasps your arm to keep you from jumping in the middle of the altercation. “Stop it!”
But Joel is too far gone. Ignoring your desperate cries, he wraps one hand around Luke’s neck, holding him in place. His other hand curls into a tight fist and he starts delivering bone shattering blow after bone shattering blow to his face. “You wanna fuckin’ hit someone?” He snarls as the man’s nose cracks beneath his knuckles. “You wanna fuckin’ put your hands on someone? Huh? Then you fuckin’ put ‘em on me! C’mon, I fuckin’ dare you to put ‘em on me!”
Throwing Luke onto the floor, Joel climbs on top of him and he secures both of his hands around his throat. He feels the uncontrollable urge to do to him what he had done to you—only, unlike Luke, he doesn’t need a belt, and unlike Luke, he isn’t going to stop.
He isn’t going to let him live.
Joel squeezes Luke’s neck, cutting off his oxygen.
“How do you fuckin’ like it,” he hisses, irises going from brown to black as he presses harder on his windpipe. “C’mon, tough guy, tell me how you fuckin’ like it.”
Luke feebly claws and scratches at his hands, gurgling as blood starts coming out of his nose and mouth.
“Joel! Stop!” Tommy rushes into the house, his boots scraping against the floor as he skids to halt. Without hesitating, he jumps into action. “Joel, stop! Fuckin’ let him go! Let him go!” He reaches down to pull him off.
“Look at what he did to her! Fuckin’ look at her!”
Tommy turns his attention to you, and the color drains from his face. “Jesus Christ,” he breathes out, shocked by the mark around your neck. He has half a mind to step back and allow Joel to finish the job, but with you, Ellie, and Maria watching on in terror, Tommy doesn’t have a choice. He grabs fistfuls of Joel’s denim shirt and tries to tug him off the man he’s about to kill. “Fuckin’ let him go, Joel! Right now! That’s an order!”
Luke’s attempts to fight him off grow weaker. His face is beaten beyond recognition, and there’s a pool of dark red growing under him, dripping from a deep laceration he’d sustained from the being slammed head first into the mirror. His hands fall from around Joel’s wrists. He’s close to losing complete consciousness.
“Joel, let him go!” Tommy bellows. “Now!”
“Tommy, be careful!” Maria warns him, worriedly.
Somehow, he finally manages to peel Joel off Luke. He shoves him up against the nearest wall, pinning him in place. Behind him, Luke coughs and sputters violently, gasping as he frantically tries to breathe some air back into his lungs.
“Fuckin’ let go of me!” Joel growls, his eyes wild as he drives his fists into Tommy’s chest. “I’ll fuckin’ kill him! Let me fuckin’ go!”
Tommy cups Joel’s face in his hands and tries to meet his gaze. “Hey, look at me, I need you to calm the fuck down—I said fuckin’ look at me, Joel!” He demands. “I need you to calm the fuck down. I know that he fuckin’ deserves it, alright? Trust me, it’s takin’ all the strength I’ve got in me not to fuckin’ let go, let you kill the son of a bitch. Hell, there’s a part of me that wants to help you fuckin’ do it! But it ain’t the way we handle things here. M’gonna need you to take a breath and calm down, big brother. If anythin’, just do it for her sake, alright?”
Joel’s chest heaves, his breaths rough and ragged as his eyes flicker over to you. His heart sinks at the sight of you sobbing uncontrollably in Ellie and Maria’s arms.
Groaning, Luke rolls over onto his stomach and spits a mouthful of blood into the floor. “You can fucking have her,” he rasps, looking up at Joel through swollen eyes. “Keep her. Keep the useless little whore.”
Blinded by white hot rage, Joel starts thrashing around in Tommy’s grasp and tries to break loose. “Fuckin’ call her that again you fuckin’ son of a bitch—”
“Shit.” Dropping her arms from around you, Ellie steps forward, standing protectively in front of both you and Maria.
“Get the fuck off me, Tommy! M’gonna fuckin’ kill him!”
Maria tucks your face into her shoulder. “Don’t watch.”
“Joel, fuckin’ stop it already!” Tommy struggles to keep him in place. “You’re scarin’ her half to death!”
“I don’t fuckin’ care—”
Tommy’s fingers curl around the collar of his shirt. He slams Joel back against the wall so hard, the mirror, or at least what’s left of it, falls. The square frame breaks in half when it hits the floor.
“Well, you should fuckin’ care! She’s pregnant, Joel.”
You lift your head from Maria’s shoulder. “Tommy.”
Ellie spins around on her heel to face you. She stares at you with wide, round eyes. “You’re fucking pregnant?”
Joel looks over at you. Just as shocked, if not more.
“What?”
Tommy grabs his chin, forcing his older brother to look at him once more. “It’s true,” he murmurs quietly. “So please, just take a goddamn breath and calm the fuck down. For her sake—and for the sake of your child.” He releases Joel’s shirt and takes a careful step backwards towards Luke, who is still groaning in pain on the floor. Once he realizes Joel isn’t going to charge him again, Tommy turns around and grabs the injured man by the lapels of his jacket, pulling him up to his feet in a rough, careless manner. “Get the fuck up,” he says. He drags him towards the door. “C’mon, let’s go.”
“Tommy? Where are you taking him?” Maria questions him.
“Town jail. M’gonna throw his sorry ass in a fuckin’ cell and leave him in there ‘til we figure out what to do with him.” He glances over his shoulder. “I’ll get the council together for an emergency meetin’ tonight.”
“Jesus,” Ellie mutters under her breath as soon as they disappear. “Did this really just fucking happen?”
Chest still heaving, Joel glances down at his bloodied, torn knuckles and then turns to you, his eyes meeting yours. The tension between the two of you is almost palpable.
Maria lightly clears her throat. “We should probably get out of here,” she suggests. “Let’s head on over to mine and Tommy’s while we wait for him to get back.”
“Are you cold?” Ellie asks, worriedly.
She holds up a blue fleece throw blanket she’d dug out from the hallway closet despite you warning her not to snoop around the house while Maria’s in the bathroom tending to Joel’s hand.
Shaking your head, you sigh, “I’m fine.”
“But it’s cold in here.” She drapes the blanket over your hunched shoulders. “Can I get you something? Water? Are you hungry? You should probably eat something—”
“Ellie, please stop with all the fussing.” You pat the spot on the couch beside you. “Just sit here with me. That’s all I need right now.”
Nodding, she sits down and angles herself toward you, getting a closer look at the wound you’d been left with.
“Shit,” Ellie mutters under her breath. Grimacing, she lifts a hand and gingerly presses her fingertips to your neck in disbelief. “Fuck, dude. How bad does it hurt?” She touches a particularly sore spot on the column of your throat and you hiss in pain. She retracts her hand and sputters an apology, “Fuck, I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
Wincing, you assure her, “It’s fine. It’s just a little tender right now, that’s all.”
“A little?” she scoffs.
“Okay, maybe more than a little,” you admit.
Ellie observes you for a moment. “Are you okay?”
“It’ll heal, Ellie. It looks worse than it really is.”
“No, I mean—” Pausing, Ellie moves her hand, placing it on your stomach. “Is the baby okay?”
You glance down at yourself, almost as if you expected to see something different about yourself, but then you remember you’re only about six weeks along and there is nothing to see, no significant changes to your body. Perhaps it’s the reason why there’s a part of you having a hard time grasping that Ellie’s asking if the baby was okay. If your baby is okay.
After a minute, you nod. “Yeah, I think so,” you reply softly, putting a hand over hers.
Relieved, Ellie flashes you a small smile. “Good.”
“How are you two doing in here?” Maria appears in the living room with Joel trailing behind her. His right hand is wrapped up in a white bandage.
“We’re okay.” Ellie glances at Joel. “You okay?”
He gives a quick, subtle nod of his head. “M’fine.”
“We can take her home now, right?” When Ellie doesn’t ge the immediate response she’s seeking, she shoots him a tiny little glare. “She’s coming home with us, isn’t she? I mean, she fucking has to come home with us.”
He still doesn’t answer her question.
All Joel can do is stare at you, jaw clenched and his lips pressed into a tight, thin line.
“Hey, Ellie, how about we go into the kitchen and make some tea?” Maria beckons to her with her hand.
She snorts. “Seriously? Who the hell wants fucking tea after that fucking shitshow—”
Maria pins her with an exasperated glare. “Ellie.”
“Oh shit, okay. I get it now,” Ellie quickly realizes it’s simply an excuse for the two of them to leave the room. Dropping her hand away from your stomach, she jumps up to her feet and wraps her arms around you. Her hug is brief, but full of warmth and reassurance, as if she’s silently telling you everything’s going to be alright. She releases you and follows Maria to the kitchen, leaving you and Joel alone.
Nervously, you stand up, your knees wobbling.
You feel torn—torn between wanting to run over to him and jump into his arms, and wanting to run away in the opposite direction to find somewhere to bury your head in shame. You’d promised him he had nothing to worry about, swore to him you couldn’t bear a child, and now here you were, carrying his and putting a responsibility on his shoulders he didn’t ask for. A responsibility that, surely, he doesn’t want.
On top of everything else he’d been through with you.
No, because of you. And now this?
Somehow, you muster up enough courage to speak.
“Joel,” you squeak his name. “Say something.”
“You sure you’re pregnant?” He asks, quietly. He stands across the room, making no move to come closer.
Swallowing harshly, you nod. “I’m sure.”
“How long have you known?”
“I only just found out yesterday,” you swear.
“And Tommy and Maria fuckin’ knew before me?”
It’s hard to tell if he’s angry or if he’s disappointed—not that either was a better option than the other.
“I was here with them yesterday in the afternoon. I got sick out of nowhere. Maria’s the one who suspected it and suggested I take a pregnancy test when I realized I haven’t had my period since August. After the first time that you and I—well, you know.” Shifting from one foot to the other, you continue to explain, “It never even fucking crossed my mind, Joel. I didn’t notice anything. I didn’t notice the symptoms. Missing my period, the dizziness, and the nausea. I was so busy trying to keep myself from fucking falling apart without you that it all went right over my head.”
Joel’s harsh expression suddenly softens.
“I took the test. When the results turned out positive, I just lost it. I fucking lost it, and I told Tommy and Maria everything because I was scared.” Your voice breaks, and a tear slips out from the corner of your eye, rolling down the side of your face. Several more threaten to follow, but you blink them back. “They offered to help me, Joel. They wanted to get me out of the house last night, but I was too fucking stubborn. I didn’t listen to them. I thought I’d be fine for one more night, but when Luke came home, he wanted to be intimate with me.”
Joel sucks in a sharp breath. His anger boils in his veins all over again. “And did he—he touch you like that?”
“No, of course not. I didn’t let him. I couldn’t let him. I told him not to touch me and I pushed him away.”
“Then what happened?”
“I told him that it was over. That our marriage was over and I was leaving. That’s when he took off his belt and he—” Gesturing to your throat, you start sobbing again as images of the night before flood your mind.
Luke had done pretty horrific things to you before, but this?
This had been the worst of them. He almost killed you.
“Baby.” Joel rushes over to you and pulls you right into his arms. “Shh, darlin’. S’alright,” he soothes. “S’alright, you’re safe now. I’ve got you.”
Whimpering, you met into his touch, the very touch you have been missing with every fiber of your being. “I’m so sorry, Joel,” you croak into his chest. “I’m so fucking sorry.”
He pulls away slightly, peering down at you. “Sorry? For what?” Without even giving you the chance to answer, he assures you, “There ain’t nothin’ for you to apologize for, sweet girl. Alright?”
You let out a tearful scoff. “Joel, I’m pregnant. And it’s fucking yours,” you remind him, the guilt in your tone loud and clear. “Don’t you remember how worried you were about it? And how I told you that you had nothing to be concerned about?”
“Don’t put it all on yourself, peach.”
You almost smile.
Oh, how you’ve missed hearing him call you that.
“Look, this is on me too, baby. Part of me knew there was still a possibility, but I didn’t care. All I cared ‘bout was makin’ you mine every fuckin’ chance I got.” Joel’s hand cups the side of your face. He chuckles nervously and says, “Y’know, at one point, I kinda thought I was at the age where I’m shootin’ blanks more than anythin’ else. Guess we were both wrong, huh?”
“Joel—”
He cuts you off. “And if you’re worried I’m upset ‘bout you bein’ pregnant, you’re wrong ‘bout that too, darlin’.”
Surprised, you blurt, “You mean, you want the baby?”
Now it's his turn to be taken aback.
“Y’thought I wouldn’t want it?”
“Yeah,” you confess, sheepishly. “I thought you would be mad about this, if I’m being honest, Joel. I wasn’t sure if you’d even want anything to do with it.” Noticing he’d taken some offense to the notion that he wouldn’t want his own child, you exhale a small sigh and place a hand on his chest. “Come on, Joel, can you honestly blame me? When you were the one who was so damn worried about me getting knocked up in the first place? Wouldn’t you have thought the same if you were me?”
He grazes your cheek with his thumb. “Can’t lie to you, sweetheart. I probably would have.” Letting his hand fall away from your face, Joel takes a seat on the couch and pulls you down onto his lap. “Sure as hell wasn’t in my plans to have another kid in my fuckin’ fifties. But y’know, the idea of having a little one runnin’ around, it ain’t all that fuckin’ bad.” He pauses, adding with a faint grin, “‘Specially if he or she happens to look like you.”
Relieved, you lean into his chest, shoulders sagging in exhaustion.
“You alright?” Joel murmurs, pressing a kiss into your hair.
Burying your face into his neck, you breathe him in. “I am now that I’m with you,” you confess as he wraps his arms around you, holding you tighter than he ever has before.
“M’gonna take real good care of you, darlin’. Both of you,” Joel reassures you, softly. “Nothin’s gonna hurt you, baby. S’long as you’re with me, nothin’ or no one is ever gonna hurt you ever again. Swear it on my life.”
#fic: a safe haven#fic: ash#joel miller series#Joel Miller angst#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x you#joel miller x y/n#joel miller fic#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x reader#tw: dv#tw: domestic violence#tw: pregnancy
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— letting you do their hair
— thomas j, alexander h, and phillip h x gn reader, john laurens x masc reader
+ black coded reader for thomas and john! modern-ish au!
PHILLIP H !
✩ he loves letting you do this hair. sometimes you don’t even have to ask, he’ll ask you.
✩ he only trust you and his parents to wash it and take care of it
✩ you style it a lot for him and eliza loves it
✩ tender headed as fuck
✩ if someone flirts with him in public, especially if they bring up his hair, he’ll just go on and on about you
✩ “oh my hair? yeah it’s nice, ain’t it? my (s/o) did it. Aren’t they so skilled?”
✩ you teach him how to braid his hair and style it the way you do so he can do them himself if there’s a time you’re not around
☆ watching your favorite shows 🤝 washing and drying his hair
THOMAS J !
☆ he is so protective of his hair. like he’s the only one allowed to touch it
☆ so obviously it took you a lot of begging and convincing but he eventually gave in
☆ he’ll make snarky comments and act like a baby when you first wash his hair or attempt to style it but a little pop with the comb gets him to shut up
☆ he almost fell asleep the first time you braided his hair, but he likes to pretend it never happened
☆ so embarrassed to ask you to wash his hair and you can’t help but tease him for it
☆ after a while, he had you braiding his hair once a week for an extra curl
☆ you guys have matching bonnets
☆ he will literally call James mid hair session and just start talking about the government with him
☆ he was very skeptical about your products but eventually they become the only thing he uses
ALEXANDER H !
☆ he was genuinely surprised when you asked him to do his hair
☆ he hadn’t had anyone to do it or take care of it for years, especially since his mother passed
☆ “you’d do that for me?” he’d question, genuine shock on his face
☆ and it takes all of both of you to not start crying when you do take care of his hair
☆ the first time you washed it for him was the most relaxed you’d ever seen him
☆ it was the most loved he’d felt for a while
☆ then there were times were you just played in his hair
☆ whether we was working or just watching tv, you were putting silly little styles in his hair. and it he loves it. he thinks it’s adorable.
☆ some mornings, he ask you to put his hair up for him or slick it back for him just so he can have the best start to his day
☆ his hair was very first thing he asked you to do when he came back from war
☆ scalp massages >>>
☆ they’re one of the only things that convince him to leave his office, just for a little bit
JOHN L !
☆ after he meets you, he refuses to do his hair unless you’re away on a trip
☆ he whines and pleads, making an excuses on “how you do so much better” and “how loved it makes him feel” while giving you kisses
☆ but if you’re truly tired, of course he’ll give you a break
☆ you came home once and found him wearing your bonnet/durag
☆ you also do most of his haircuts
☆ he doesn’t mind his hair growing out but he knows it’s getting too long when you start beating him while play fighting
☆ to him if you’re winning, his hair is messing with his vision and it’s a “handicap”
☆ definitely gets popped with the comb everytime you do his hair
“john, could you turn your head just a little bit?” you question, your frustration already growing. he couldn’t help but tease you constantly, it was in his nature. he slightly turns his head with a small smirk on his face, knowing he was pissing you off.
“john, don’t play with me right no—“ you cut off your words when john grabs you by the waist and pulls you in and onto his lap. his hand gripping the outside of your thigh to support you as you straddle his legs.
“this angle good enough for you?” he asks, giving you his typically stupid grin. you can’t help but softly smile as you look at him, your previous anger from before leaving.
“t’s fine, i guess.” you shrug before going back to attempting to cut his hair.
“see? why let anyone else do my hair when i can have you do it for free and get a lap dance at the same time?” he says nonchalantly, continuing to scroll on his phone. his free hand caress your thigh and slithering back to ass.
“john, i swear you’re going to wake up bald one day.”
#dorkszn#dorkfilmz#hamilton musical#phillip hamilton x reader#hamilton drabble#hamilton fanfic#hamilton x reader#alexander hamilton#thomas jefferson x reader#thomas jefferson fic#alexander hamilton x reader#john laurens x reader#john laurens#hamilton fluff#hamilton angst#hamilton an american musical
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CELESTE APPRECIATION post
I raerly see anyone mention her but i love her sm
yes this is mostly like 98% hc shes only got like 5 lines in hole game what more do u want from me
anyways, my sweet sweet barely domesticated celeste :
-"Why did my husband come back with a child ,a dog ,a living skeleton, a man who can throw him around like he weights nothing and a knight(derogatory)"
-Cahara's so wiped 4 her and honesty i would to if that was my wife, she def pegs him 2 btw i mean just look at him, my point exactly.
-gets along with Enki the most 2 everyone's surprise, there paper wight besties. & share a worrie for Cahara they will never verbalise as well a dislike for D'arc- i mean knights.
-celeste is d'arces first (and only) female friend, much to clestes own dismay.
-d'arce thought she was a gold digger at first, as you can tell they had a grate first impression of each other
-only trusts people about as far as she can throw them (rip rag , he can still man handle the group whore with ease tho so good for him)
-can not hold a convo with a child 2 save her life , the length of her mertanl intents extend to bringing the child 2 Cahara .
-she is not mother material but for some reason they're trying to keep a baby with a high infant mortality rate its funny
i think celeste probably didn't have great parents or a good role model, deadbeat drunkard parents that kicked her out and kind of left her to fend for herself & close of to the world and that's why she has such a disillusioned take on parenthood + where her own approach to children comes from
but uh oh !! cahara wormed his way into her heart ! and who's to say his clear and utter devotion to this little girl cant win her over either
i dont think either her or Cahara were going out of their way to get pregnant - it's like an unfortunate by-product of the nature of Celeste's career, and Cahara's love for her being what led to him being so willing to step up. i don't think either of them ever really thought about having kids, or at least didn't think they'd be good parents, but celeste getting pregnant or cahara bringing back a child is just the way life ended up going.
it's the renaissance era, abortion methods are on par with childbirth in terms of deadliness anyway. she's just not going to have to keep risking her life via pregnancy if cahara goes out, gets enough coin to support them both, she's not going to be like every other peasant woman who's forced to become a broodmare because every 1 in 2 children fucking die before they turn 5.
clesest being pregnant is just what ended up happening. the love in that is to do with their RELATIONSHIP, not their love for some idealistic family life. i think cahara wanting to give it a try is something celeste would think is really sweet and admirable, but she'd probly keep a lot of her more cynical thoughts to herself on the matter.
saying that i think they both have a lot of cynical thoughts about it really, but i cahara goes so quickly into "this is my wife, this is our future baby" because otherwise what's the point in taking on such a risky mission in the first place ? but if he's got a noble cause, then it might seem worth it, right ? it's that extra push of encouragement for him, even if it comes with a lot of scary things like the responsibility, being a parent, maybe settling down witch is a scary thought for someone whos always so used 2 being on the move
as for celeste ; she doesn't even know if she's going to make it through the pregnancy, or if the baby will. it's just another mouth to feed at the end of the day. she doesn't care about carrying on a legacy, or raising a child into greatness like so many others beg and plead of god to bestow upon their children. she knows she'd be a shit mom and she's hardly a loyal partner at the moment. but she loves cahara, and seeing that fear in his eyes when she told him, but also that spark of light, that little bit of joy, made it at least worth holding on for.
celeste: it's probably not going to make it anyway, i either risk death in childbirth or death in abortion methods, so.
celeste: its getting me enough bank rn to keep myself healthy so we'll just see what happens i guess
celeste watching cahara bring home an entire child:
okay cringe time over.
i wont go into 2much detail about her relationship with the others though i think its a very slow process of her learning to tolerate get along with the creatures friends cahara brought back
-as soon as celeste meets d'arce her mild suspicion and distaste for ragnvaldr will be replaced with her disgust for d'arce
-think celeste would be pissed she wouldn't be able 2 pull cahara out of ragnvaldrs grip unless she stabbed him or something, witch shes both angry about it but also relieved since it probably kept cahara out of trouble in the dungeon (because lord knows her husband is a magnet for trouble)
inside me there are 2 wolfs ; one is mmm hot stong wife carry cahara like a sack of pataos , the other is screaming at me that this is the 1600 and she would be starving and poor.
so to compromise with myself im going 2 say :
- physical speaking celsest is probly stronger then most women in her profession and could probly drag an unconscious cahara around then againg i also think cahras way ligher then someone of his build&carear should be
shes stronger then enki (then againg who isnt) but cant match d'arces physical strength.
saying that modern au Celeste would beat d'arce in an arm wrestle.
in-refence 2 my last post; celest is a child darkness, she has a barbie killer husband,there for. she deserves to be as much hater as she likes
d'arce: you two are the healthiest couple i know who still have an avid sex life
cahara: ASSUMPTIONS !
celeste: we're the only couple you know.
acholic wise i think celeste could out drink d'arce (and at least keep up with ragnvaldr for a little bit)
celeste: d'arce is a pain in the ass
cahara: :confustion: :stress_smile: she means well babe cmon
celeste: im gonna beat her with a stick
cahara: ,, babe,,
cleseste is not payed enough 2 be d'arces therpist or help d'arce figure out she likes women (shes not payed at all actuly,she is simply trying 2 tolrate her husbands new freinds becuse she loves him but also only has so meny braincells she can lose in a day and conversing with d'arce seems 2 kill all of them)
celeste hears d'arce talk about jeanne once and instantly starts going "wow you loved a girl wow that girl who was like you in every way wow that girl who like. shared your morals. or something. wow tell me more about that girl" (stab stab stab metaphorically stab stab stab)
(about cahara getting arrsed and taken by the police)
rag: you lack of concern,,, concerns me. are you not worried ?
celeste: dogs always find their way back home.
- d'arce and cahara make the same enamoured and light-blush expression whenever celeste rages btw
- celeste :handshake: enki
taking the piss out of knights + a generally more cynical outlook on life & being cold bitches that secretly care about cahara a lot
(first time they all stayed the night)
enki learning hes the favorite for once and he thinks its just the most hilarious thing to fucking happen
local woman-lover put out by being rejected by hot scary wife,
local berserker intimidated by what scary wife might do if she finds out what he did to her precious boytoy
local shadow wizard ? on the floor ugly laughing because scary wife reluctantly asked if he wanted the guest bedroom.
celeste: YOURE NOT STAYING HERE PERMANENTLY. but youre allowed to stay overnight.
enki: is this (gags) kindness ? oh my god. revolting.
celeste: is that a yes or not you fucking worm
enki: yesplease
#celeste fear and hunger#fear and hunger#celeste ily#take a shot everytime i spelt her name wrong#cahara#enki#ragnvaldr#d'arce#i love pitting 2 bad bitchs against each other when its not over a man and 1s obluous 2 the fact the other fucking hates her#didnt mention it ealer but cleste bi queen btw#i dont Rembert if i mentioned it in my post but clests dislike of d'arce stems from her being a knight#this isnt d'arce slander btw i love her i just like bullying her even more#celeste when shes a little hater and i love her for that#enki expences being someone's fav for the first time#rag when hes both terrified by but slightly curious about his little freinds wife#the girl fear and hunger
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she's so patronising to him though like a relationship like that would be so annoying. he doesn't need to be told what he feels and what to do about it every day. they're fine as besties but he doesn't want more
two questions: genuinely, im not trying to be snippy at all, is this in reference to something ive said? i checked my recent postings i couldn’t find anything?? and second, um you didn’t specify who you’re talking about .. im guessing donna and harvey on usa legal drama suits? im just gonna answer to the best of my ability, as if this is about donnaharvey which im like 90% sure it is?? okay
i mean, respectfully, i would certainly push back on the idea she “tells him what to do” cus she’s certainly his emotional intelligence like she tells him what hes thinking—or at least her interpretation of what he’s thinking. theres certainly evidence of that, the scene that comes to mind is its in late s3, and mike wants to leave to take the finance job, and harvey snaps at scottie, and donna (very gently) reprimands him for it, and she tells him he’s hurt not angry “you’re hurt and the anger covers the hurt, but i know you didn’t know that.” she definitely provides him with insight into his emotions, but in a way i would argue any friend would.
there’s also a scene from season 2(?) i think, where donna is trying to get harvey to pursue scottie and she tells him to his face “i know your mother hurt you but you need to get over it” or, in other words “sorry about your mommy issues but you need to grow the fuck up.” and again i think thats a perfectly reasonable thing to say as a friend to your friend—she sees him hurting and lonely and she can do something about it, all she needs to do is encourage him to seek out a relationship with a woman who loves him, i think that’s perfectly acceptable.
i really dont see how its patronizing in any way? i mean there are certainly a couple jokes like “men are so stupid lol” but nothing that has really stood out to me as anything different than 2010s network drama gender politics, and so few and far between i cant think of any specific instances off the top of my head.
second of all, to the best of my knowledge (having seen up to 6x05 atp), that all stops when he starts going to therapy. i cant think of a single instance after season 5 when she tells him what hes feeling (i mean maybe she does in seasons 7, 8 + 9 but i haven’t seen it so i cant say lol)
but from what ive seen, her telling him his emotions stops when he starts receiving therapy with a trained professional. and thats just healthy! yknow he no longer needs to be told what hes thinking because he’s learning more about himself and his reaction to trauma and how to be a more functionally stable adult. and after that is the only way he can keep and maintain a meaningful, productive relationship.
also, not to be crass but i 100% think harvey goes face down ass up when someone tells him what to do (especially if its mike or donna or jessica)
finally i do fully respectfully disagree that “theyre good as besties but he doesn’t want more” first of all, i think you might be confusing his repression and inability to parse his love for donna as a woman and his love for donna as a friend, as a lack of attraction. i think a) hes very repressed and messed up from his childhood so like, he can fuck people but loving people is a whole other story and b) he absolutely loves her as a friend, and i think he’s just boxed up his attraction and affection for her since they moved to pearson hardman 10(?) years ago.
second of all, gabriel macht and sarah rafferty you can tell has SOOOOO much fun together and they have so much chemistry, so i distrust any interpretation of donna and harvey that doesn’t think they wanna fuck each others brains out
what was i talking about? i dont think i have a closing statement, i just think donna and harvey’s relationship re:her telling him what to do is completely legitimate and follows a natural progression of two people trying to be healthy adults
#this is like 700 words .. anyway thank you anon! i genuinly enjoy things like this as an intellectual excercise#amanda.mail#suitsposting
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The Tale of Tale movie analysis (1)
It has been a long time since I did a fairytale movie analysis, and for this month I want to take a look at a movie that has been asked of me before, a long time ago: "Tale of Tales".
For those of you who do not know about this movie, "Tale of Tales" is a 2015 movie, a "European production" (it is an Italian movie, but it received help and collaboration from France and England, hence the "European" etiquette) that is to this day (and to my knowledge) the only movie that adapts Basile's Pentamerone, the titular "Tale of Tales".
The Pentamerone being one of the two foundational works when it comes to literary fairytales, and one of the two great books of classical Italian literary fairytales alongside Straparole's Facetious Nights. Basile's book is very famous for containing some of the earlier literary records of fairytale types such as Rapunzel, Sleeping Beauty, The Girl Without Hands, and more.
The book contains a total of fifty stories, and of course the movie couldn't adapt them all, so it was decided to only adapt three in total. The three chosen are usually considered emblematic stories of the Pentamerone - but they were also selected because they do not echo the more well known Grimm stories. The three selected were, The Flea, The Enchanted Doe, and The Flayed Old Lady - all taken from the first part of the book.
Note that this movie was greatly acclaimed for its extensive use of practical special effects - and there is one thing you cannot deny this movie, it looks absolutely incredible. There is a great effort on the visuals ranging from selected architecture and landscape to careful costume crafting and delightful monsters on screen.
Before going into the analysis of each of the fairytales of the movie, I wanted to point out a few things covering the entirety of the movie. Three details to be exact.
Matteo Garrone, when doing this movie, didn't just randomly selected three stories that were to his fancy. He chose three specific stories that he then tied together with cohesive themes and motifs. The first of which, the most prominent, being "obsession". Each segment is about presenting the obsessions of specific characters, and the bad outcomes of it.
The other shared motif between the three fairytales is "the ages of a woman". Despite the movie having as much male as female characters, Garrone explained very clearly that this movie was about the women, not the men, and that each fairytale represented one of the traditional three "ages of woman". "The Flea" becomes the Maiden story, focusing on the young princess ; "The Enchanted Doe" becomes the Mother story, with an exploration of the character of the queen, while "The Flayed Old Lady" is of course the Crone tale.
But much more importantly for us to understand this movie: Matteo Garrone did one very heavy and important change compared to the original material. The tone. The tone is radically different. Basile's original book, just like Straparole's fairytales, worked by the specific nature of these Italian literary fairytales of the time: they were grotesque farces, and vulgar jokes. In my last post about the Pentamerone I compared these stories to a Brandon Rogers video, because Basile's stories, despite being the ancestors of the Grimm or Perrault fairytales, are nothing like the modern fairytales we are today. They are sex stories filled with caricatures, they are gruesome, gory stories filled with morally-gray characters, they are one huge dark joke filled with poop and farts and vulgar allusions. They are much closer to medieval tales and to the tone of a Reynard the Fox story or some Rabelais books than any other fairytales we know today. But Garrone decided to apply a principle that you can see explored in series such as "Horace and Pete" or "Kevin can fuck himself". Take a sitcom, remove the laugh-track, you have a tragedy. Garrone's movie is still as grotesque as the original stories - but now the jokes are put aside, the most vulgar parts removed, the sex and the gore examined for what it is under a realistic eye. This "realistic", and "non-comical" treatment of the stories make this world of grotesque caricatures and senseless violence and depraved debauchery one not of marvels and fairies, but one of tragedies, of abuse, of horror. But, tragedies with magic, abuse with beauty, horror with happy and hopeful endings - because they stay fairytales after all, no matter how dark they are. Mean, cruel, sad fairytales, but fairytales nonetheless.
[Trivia: The fact that Basile's work was a very rude, crude and vulgar piece of sex-and-violence that can only be compared to Rabelais meeting Punch & Judy, is something many people in the English-speaking world completely missed because the first real popular and widespread translations of the text in English, in the... I think it was the 19th century or maybe a bit earlier ; but these versions were heavily censored. Trying to make the story more like a Perrault or d'Aulnoy tale, they removed many sex references, remove all the poop jokes, and even cut off some stories deemed too vulgar ot gruesome, so that for a very long time people thought they were supposed to be... regular fairytales. This is especially relevant with "Thalia, the Sun and the Moon", Basile's "Sleeping Beauty" variant. Many people point out that the girl in this story gets raped by the prince and that this shows how the fairytale of Sleeping Beauty was built on a glorification of rape, because it is treated as ormal or as some romance. But... no. This rape is treated as a rape and the prince is very clearly a lustful asshole who is taking advantage of the girl - because it is a dark sex-tale. Princes in the Pentamerone are almost all lustful rapists, violent murderers or complete helpless idiots, because the Pentamerone does not work on a "prince charming" logic. Take "The Golden Root" - the handsome, kind, gentle, good prince that seems to fit the bill of the Prince Charming... is part of a family of ogres, and ends up murdering in rage his intended fiancée just to be married to the heroine of the tale. And that's something that many people missed for a very long time - the prince charming archetype is from the French tales of the 17th and 18th century, not before.]
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Usopp and Nami being synced up. Nami is more irritated and quick(er) to anger. while usopp is more emotional and low mood his negative personality really shines through during his time of the month.
Nami would usually spend time with Robin she's the only one on the ship she can tolerate at that time. She would steal one of the guys shirts to wear she's not in the mood to put an outfit together or wear something revealing. She took Franky's old Hawaiian shirt. it has drinks and cocktails all over it everyone calls it the bloody Mary shirt because when she wears it, everyone knows she's on her period and she shouldn't be messed with.
Usopp is in bed mostly when his monthly nightmare starts. He's fatigued, bloated and doesn't feel like doing anything unless he has to. wearing an oversized shirt that Used to belong to jinbe but out of kindness it's now his (usopp accidentally bleached it during wash day and he let him keep it) He usually self isolates staying in the cabin. If he's not up by 11am they know why. He usually ignores everyone except for sanji, she (t4t of course) climbs in bed with him and holds him. Lightly rubbing circles on his abdomen humming softly. She puts on a kettle of hot tea and refills it regularly for them. She also yells at Brooke if he tries to take some. She didn't make it for him! She made it for her darling Nami and precious usopp!
They both prefer to eat by themselves Nami in her office and Usopp in his work shop. When they are together it's in the garden (sanji makes him go outside for some sunlight and fresh air can't stay in bed all day) and they usually don't talk to each other they just sit together stuffing in solidarity. You'd think they share products but they don't Nami wears cups it's the most convenient while usopp sticks to pads only. Nami tried to convince him to use tampons at least but he just doesn't like them. When they have to fight they're always checking each other for leaks and will give each other pain killers if they run out. Nami is very open about her period she never had a problem discussing and all the guys on the boat are comfortable with the topic. ( "Ain't no shame when it comes to mother nature"-Franky) usopp on the other hand with a mixture of dysphoria and his fist experience being bad he doesn't bring it up. He refuses to talk about it, mentions it, or acknowledges it when it's happening. He doesn't call it a disease anymore like he used to when he was little (you will still die in 7 days if it is brought up tho that still stands ) but a stomach ache.
Robin and Zoro are synced up but they're just fine. You wouldn't even know they were on their period unless you ask. While Nami and Usopp go through hell zoro and Robin are just chilling. fuck them honestly
This is extremely real and I relate to this on a personal level because I'm the worst when I go through my period. It's a mix of being extremely irritated, sad, or horny, and these two idiots are a menace when they're on that time of the month. I love the whole thing about Sanji staying with Usopp and holding him,, It's just so soft. Sanji would be the most caring lover,, This reminds me I have to finish that fic about Usopp on his period I fucking hate having to work-
And Nami is pretty much like me when I'm on my period except that my cramps are probably a lot worse, but I absolutely love her rage being multiplied because it makes so much sense. And her wearing cups is just so in character and accurate-
Btw I agree the whole crew is extremely open-minded about these things and they don't give a single fuck about them talking about this freely. It's my fav thing ever because that's just how it should always be. Everywhere. And I'm sure they'd all support each other a lot <3
The thing I don't agree on, though, is Robin. Because I'm 100% sure Zoro doesn't even know when he's on his period but I headcanon Robin as somebody with the worst period cramps ever but trying to go through it silently to not worry anybody. It'll pass eventually. But Franky is just the most caring boyfriend when it comes to this and she lets herself be more vulnerable around him. I guess I just find it sweet that she needs a bit of comfort too <3
#this was awesome i love you for this anon#one piece#nami#usopp#sanuso#bc there are sanuso bits right there#franky#nico robin#frobin
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New Parents
Notes: I wrote this based off of a TikTok my mother sent me lol. Also imagine Harry in like mid-2022!
Dad!harry<3
They say children, when you have them, will become the best things in your life. You endure a few minutes of pain to spend a lifetime of happiness with someone who’s a product of you and your other half. Your life will hold smiles, laughs and wonderful memories together.
They will have you on the floor, giggling like a crazy person. Spending months creating a room for them to stay in, making sure your home is suitable so they wouldn’t ever get hurt. Going to doctor appointments to hear a heartbeat, shaking your partner awake in the middle of the night to feel their first kick.
Heaven.
“It’s your turn, Harry!” She spoke, turning over and pulling the satin covers over her head.
“Fuck off,” Harry moaned, begrudgingly slapping his hands over his tired eyes. “But it’s your kid.”
“Yours too.”
No one prepared the new parents for the all hours of the night screaming. The sleepless nights created delusions of their mother’s cackles whizzing around their minds. How the hell could someone put up with these little demons?
Harry grumbled a curse under his breath, throwing the covers off his body and standing. His eyes were closed, hoping to get some sort of more shut eye before he’d be up for hours.
Walking with their eyes closed while still half asleep had become a talent of theirs, having to do it so many times within the last three months does that to people. The mapping of their home has become second nature to him, even in the pitch black of the night.
He would need a cup of coffee, desperately.
Screaming echoed from their daughter’s room, increasing with every zombified step he took. This was how it was the last few months, except for the first week.
The first week they brought their daughter Presley home was heaven, it was everything they had heard about. She was a quiet and peaceful little squished face baby, not a single ounce of fuss at all.
Like an excerpt of the bible, on the seventh day all hell broke loose. That was when the screaming started. As much as Y/n loved her wonderful husband, Harry got on her nerves. And the same would go for him, but he was a little better at hiding it.
His bare feet made it into the room, turning to the crib to console Presley. He held her like glass, something that could break if you made a simply wrong move. A high pitched scream shot through his ear and right out the other side of his head, a need to cry as well punching him in the heart.
“Okay Princess, daddy’s here. Shhh, you’re okay.” He soothed, rocking his bundle of love in his arms. Swaying to a gentle unheard rhythm, he willed her to fall back to sleep. “I understand you love me, but daddy needs his sleep. Please” His words were breathy, pleading not only with the infant but with whatever god could hear him.
Sadly, Presley’s love for her father overpowered his wishes of sleep. Screams and whines continued to pour from the infant's mouth, seemingly for hours.
It only took a few minutes of the gut wrenching noise for Y/n to clamor out of her bed and join her husband. Standing in just black boxers and a white tee with tousled hair, he still looked good enough to bite. Here’s to another sleepless night, she thought.
“Babe, give me her and let's go get some coffee.” She spoke slowly, reaching for the bundle held with his large arms.
“Coffee?” He asked, sleep evident in his husky voice.
Coffee was a safe haven in their home now. Harry wasn’t proud of it, though. He loved to pride himself on only his English breakfast tea and baby-chinos on the off chance he got coffee. He wasn’t a coffee drinker. Well, he didn’t used to be a coffee drinker.
Y/n hummed and grasped onto her daughter gently. She stepped aside so he could shuffle past, rolling her eyes as he hoisted his under pants up and burped on his way out.
“We need a bath.” She pointed out to the wiggling little monster in her arms. “You need to sleep.”
It had been almost two weeks since she had last had a shower, her own smell couldn’t repulse her anymore. That’s when she just knew it was bad. She probably had vomit in her hair, which itself made her wanna crawl into bed and never leave.
After another moment, Presley stopped screaming. She opened her eyes and peered up at her mother, chubby cheeks giving her a permanent fake-grumpy face. They decided to go join Harry, the thought of liquid gold the only thing present on Y/n’s mind.
The hallways were covered in ultrasound photographs and in every room were some sort of baby item. It had taken a month to babyproof the whole home with the help of Kid Harpoon and Lizzo.
Y/n walked into the kitchen to find her husband at the island counter, eyes still closed.
She walked over to him to offer a hand. Her steps halted when she made it behind his shoulder, peering down at what her husband was doing.
Using the coffee scooper, he was plopping spoon fulls of baby formula into the coffee maker. Holy shit. A smile crept up her face, which turned into a giggle. And giggling turned into a hysterical laughing fit of delusion.
When Harry opened his eyes and seen what was so funny, he himself started laughing. It had to have been the no sleep, but this was the funiest thing in the whole world.
Presley was confused as to what was happening, though. Both of her parents were laughing at seemingly nothing, slowly going mad.
#harry styles#harries#harry edward styles#my writing#harry blurb#harry styles fluff#harry styles au#harry styles writing#harry styles fanfic#harry fic#harry styles x reader#harry styles x you#harry styles imagine#dad harry styles#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles one shot#harry styles gif
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PAC: 🍁
School started for me and starbies just came out with their seasonal fall flavors so even though I am a victim of broke college student fevar I went to starbs bc whats $15 when yr already in a fuck ton of debt. So I went to starbs with my roomie to get some PSLs. But while we were there one of the baristas was just losing their absolute fucking mind at another barista who was just trying to help these young highschoolers not be late. Like???? Screaming at her not to touch anything and she can’t fucking jump the line my heart literally broke. If I had any money like fucking dollar bills I would have given them to her. Like so fucking awful. But honestly so many people are under appreciated. I literally spend my life taking care of people who claim that. “They only think of others, and they never put themselves first, or I am JUST SUCH A CARE TAKER.” But when push comes to shove they’re no where to be found. A READING FOR MY UNDER APPRECIATED MOTHER FUCKERS SO YOU KNOW HOW LOVED AND VALUED YOU AREEEE.
(I know most of you are mystics who wish to be the most esoteric babe in the mystic forest, who has to work a 9-5 so this is for youu)
Pick a meme
The cards
Nine of Wands (Reversed) 🧸
Yesod, Lord of Great Strength, Moon in Sagittarius, 10°–20°. Angels Yirthiel and Sahiah
You are putting something off in so you can help others. Something is being delayed. You are intentionally abstaining from something which in turn is causing you to spiral. Maybe your ass is working the rush shift everyday and your coworkers are assholes and you cannot bare to leave that anxious toxic ass mess. However, you owe it to yourself to find a better environment. People don’t leave because the security of which is offered but are you actually secure or are you comfortable in your mistreatment?
find people who will do better and will work with you and match your energy.
Futility 🪒
Moon 3. In Aquarius, Netzach in Air, seven of swords
The seventh suit. A notably unlucky suit. You have been backed into a corner and you need to get your way out. Now this isn’t a gun fight its a fight of wits. You need to use your cleverness to escape. Honestly, maybe a toxic friend or person you know led you down a dark path? Maybe you got love bombed so hard and led with the promise of love and compromise you fell so hard and breaking every bone on the way down. Be safe. Get out of there
Back rooms level RUN!
Fortitude (Reversed) 🫁
Daughter of the Flaming Sword, Teth, Serpent
Damn bitch you gave so much of yourself you became ill and have been weakened SEVERELY. You are also getting resentful which is hard. Like you said you were this strong ass bitch who could do anything. So you did everything and now you have egg on your face. Some athletes get trained so hard and so extreme they die. You’ve been giving so much mentally and emotionally you weakened yourself. You wouldn’t workout till death why would you give so much till failure?
Make room for yourself and forgive yourself.
The Star 💫
Jupiter in Aquarius, Chokmah to Tiphareth, Air
Its the hope that guides us all. You have such a deep well of love in that little heart of yours. The way its telling you to go is the right one. However, an off putting aspect is there may be part of the code thats got a bug, which makes your hopeful manifestations plagued by illusions. Live in the moment. Be confident of nature and your gut. Somethings may not be clear now but day by day and little by little you will find out more and more.
Take care of yourself and protect your peace
Extras:
Story/vent: once again athlete student life os difficult and I am shoving this reading in so that I can feel productive. Plus I love yo do it!
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the day had started off normal enough.
kenma had wrapped up a company-wide conference, tweeted a livestream announcement for eight p.m. that night, finished his homework at the office, and signed off on another product to be released all within a span of three hours hours. with the rest of his schedule free, he could go home, kick back, and relax until it was time to play misfiction. maybe he could make some more progress on animal crossing? or finally crack open pokemon legends: arceus?
that second one sounded like a better idea, kenma decided. he wasn't ashamed to admit that he had a crush on adamant AND iridia.
once he was back in the house, he chucked off his suit jacket and loosened his tie. being CEO of your own company, thought kenma, was entirely useless if you couldn't even wear a hoodie and sweatpants to all the important meetings.
he threw his bedroom door open and froze.
kuroo was lying on the bed, shirtless, with a head propped up on one hand. it was probably supposed to be seductive, but kenma had no idea why.
after all, everyone knew how much he was mean to kuroo. it was his number one character trait!
"hi, kitten," kuroo purred. "miss me?"
"kuro," kenma said, exasperated. "what are you doing?"
kuroo's smile faded. "did you not like it? i thought maybe if i gave you a cute nickname, you'd want to get back together."
kenma stared at him. "what?"
"kitten, didn't you hear?" kuroo's eyes filled with tears. "we can't be in a relationship anymore. childhood-friends-to-lovers is incest now!"
kenma scoffed. "as if i'd ever want to be lovers with you. i have hinata instead. he's so much more interesting, but once i get tired of him then i'll just ditch him and get a new boytoy to mess around with."
the bedroom door suddenly burst open. it was . . . oikawa tooru!
"how dare you!" he screeched. "shouyou deserves so much more! he and i spent a very passionate night together in rio, you know! it's all people ever talk about when they they think of us in brazil! there's absolutely no other meaning to it than just us hooking up!"
"whatever," kenma said, rolling his eyes. "i don't care as long as he's making me money."
"now, now," sugawara crooned (where did he even come from? hell if i know). "let's not fight. that is my innocent angel sweet summer child you're talking about, after all, i'm basically his mom - "
("i'm twenty-two!" shouted hinata from where i stuffed him in the margins. "and you know my mother is very much alive, sugawara-san! also, i FUCK! I FUCK HARD!!")
" - so naturally i know what's best for him!" sugawara continued. "and what he would want is for everyone to hold hands and get along. agreed?"
daichi grinned and nuzzled sugawara's cheek. "you're so smart! i can't wait to start a happy, cisgender-conforming, nuclear family with you."
a voice called from the hallway: "HEY HEY HEY!"
the bedroom door flew open again! how in the world has it not been broken yet???
bokuto cartwheeled into the room and puffed out his chest. when he saw that nobody was paying attention to him because they were too busy hissing at each other, he pouted.
"guys, come on!" he complained. "no fighting! let's have some fun instead!"
"it's no use, bokuto-san," akaashi said. "stereotypically-feminine traits such as being petty, catty, and more have been greatly exaggerated in us setters because we have been deemed more feminine due to what i assume is a vast and complex myriad of factors stemming from microaggressions intersecting with fans' understandings of the world amongst other things, but i expect you are too dumb to understand any of that."
bokuto stared blankly at akaashi. "huh?"
akaashi heaved a deep sigh, plagued by the burden of being the only one with brains in the relationship. "never mind. i still love you, and that's all you need to know."
"okay!" bokuto said cheerfully.
suddenly the bedroom door flew open for the third time that day! who even keeps closing it?
"i'm looking for hinata," said kageyama, poking his head past the doorframe. "has anyone seen him?"
immediately, everyone froze. their eyes shifted from kageyama to oikawa, who had swelled up with incandescent rage because he still retained everything from when he was fourteen and hadn't gone through any growth whatsoever since then.
atsumu whistled. "aw, geez. we might argue a lot, but at least we're not anythin' like that, right, omi-omi?"
"shut up and don't call me that," sakusa muttered darkly. "i hate you. i hate everyone. i hate being here. when was the last time anyone vacuumed in here?"
"if you hate it so much," atsumu said, smirking, "we could sneak away and make out somewhere. could even . . . you know . . . "
"why."
atsumu shrugged. "i am an inexplicably horny sex-on-legs bastard, apparently. especially with you. i mean, have you seen our ao3 tag?"
sakusa frowned. "we've barely had any canon time together."
"eh, people have worked with less." atsumu grinned. "'sides, i dig the whole enemies-to-lovers thing. just means you couldn't resist my charms, huh?"
sakusa would have responded with an audible gag, but . . . you guessed it! the bedroom door flew open AGAIN! this is a bedroom door that defies the laws of physics itself!
yachi stepped in and glanced around.
"weird," she said. "why is this bedroom so big? what are all of you doing?"
yachi hitoka, everyone. our only saving grace. she carries the sole brain cell and wrangles the childish dumb men, because they can't ever think for themselves. right? right?????
tsukishima scowled as he followed after her, trailed by yamaguchi. "ugh. do we have to be here?"
"tsukishima!" yachi scolded, swatting his arm. "be nice! you know these are all our friends!"
sigh.
yamaguchi didn't even greet anyone. he just stayed behind tsukki the whole time, looking like a mouse cornered in a city of cats.
suddenly, a BAM! made everyone jump! you have got to be kidding me! the bedroom door agai - oh, never mind! someone just kicked open the closet door!
"SHITTYKAWA!" iwaizumi roared. "get over here!"
oikawa''s eyes widened. "iwa-chan! what are you doing here?"
"looking for you, dumbass," iwaizumi snapped. "you haven't been taking care of yourself! but i'd never say it, because i'm an asshole. i'm a rock wall. i'm a hardened tough guy. i'm mean. i don't ever say or do anything nice. i throw volleyballs at your head for fun. i don't care about you at all. got it?"
("so you're saying he literally just came out of the closet for oikawa - " hinata began, before i shoved him back down into the margins.)
"no wonder i'm such an asshole," kindaichi marveled. "i guess i learned it all from iwaizumi-san! wow, he's a great role model."
being a stressed fourteen-year-old who didn't know how to handle another stressed fourteen-year-old that was causing said stress and eventually snapping from it and making a mistake, as people are prone to do, didn't really make you an asshole for the rest of your life, but hey. kindaichi didn't have to know any of that.
"it's getting kind of crowded in here, don't you think?" yachi asked, ever the voice of reason. "maybe we should get out and get some fresh air?"
ushijima nodded solemnly. wait - had he always been there?
"fresh air is good for the soul," he said. "not that i would know, because i'm an unfeeling robot who is strong and dominant and the epitome of masculinity. being stoic and silent are the only things i know. you should all bow down before my superior strength."
everyone stared at him.
suddenly, the bedroom door burst open AGAIN! this shouldn't be possible! it was already open in the first place! I KEPT IT OPEN! HOW DO THEY KEEP DOING THIS?
"guys!" hinata ran in, panting. "i finally did it! i escaped the margins!"
"the what?" sugawara asked.
hinata waved him off. "never mind that. it's about time to wrap up. we've put on a good show, but we should end it, don't you think?"
"hinata's right," kenma admitted. "i didn't think i could do this much longer, anyways."
oikawa made a face. "me neither. sorry, tobio. i hope you didn't take anything to heart."
"i'm okay," kageyama said. "i know better, now. we both know better."
"that we do," oikawa agreed warmly. "and weren't you looking for hinata? that's why you were here, right? you were the only one of us not part of an act."
kageyama blinked, as if he had forgotten all about that. not that anyone could blame him - i'm not even sure what the hell just happened.
"right," he said, then grabbed hinata's arm and tugged him close. "hey. i love you."
"what!" hinata squawked. "kageyama, what - "
kageyama shrugged, but red began to bloom across his cheeks. "i'd never joke about that. i just wanted you to know."
hinata beamed at him, brighter than the sun. "aw, kageyama! i love you too! but can we please wrap this up? there's no food in the margins, and i'm starving!"
"okay, everyone!" bokuto called out. "on the count of three! ready? one, two, three - "
"HAPPY APRIL FOOL'S DAY!" everyone shouted.
the end :)
#EDIT: it's okay to reblog!#i have since decided i don’t care go be free run wild#I SPENT LIKE TWO HOURS ON THIS#UHSOFLPWAFHRUILFH;USHSBGHKDSGBES#AND THEN SOME#okay i'm NOT tagging because i don't want this to fall in the wrong hands#this is for followers and mutuals ONLY#anyways!! hope you guys had a good laugh reading this!#keep in mind that i adore hq dearly and sometimes i AM prone to falling into certain cliches/tropes when it comes to writing certain charas#i just thought this would be a really funny april fool's day joke LMAAAO#haikyuu#haikyuu!!#sou says stuff#april fools prank
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"Christmas isn't in July?!"
Writer! Fem! (Y/N) x Flower shop owner! Tanjirou
Prompt from a prompt generator: "A owns a flower shop and one day B comes in. B slaps 20 bucks onto the counter and then asks "How do I passive-agressively say 'fuck you' in flower?" and A bursts out laughing before making a bouquet for B"
The Kamado family was famous for their bakery’s fresh bread and flowers. The eldest son took over the bakery not too long ago and helped make a huge profit out of the family business with their diplomatic advertising and their delicious recipes.
I became a regular customer soon after their eldest son took over. Their mother and sister tends to the garden growing organically grown flowers of many different varieties.
I figured that I needed to go outside instead of being cooped up in my bedroom all day writing as I multitasked from looking out the window and at half-typed page that I haven’t touched in 20 minutes. I quickly grabbed my keys and locked the apartment, deciding to leave and go get coffee. I took my laptop too in case I randomly get hit with inspiration or a idea as I spend an hour curled up on the side of some poor owner’s wall typing away at my keyboard (don’t ask why that was so detailed).
It didn’t matter that I was in my pajamas and my hair was a little messy from just waking up 2 hours ago (it also didn’t help that I didn’t brush my hair when I woke up either). But that’s fine, lots of people go to places with coffee while looking like they got hit by semi-trucks. Besides, with a gamble of my luck, my hair might just fix itself.
I walked into the shop, noticing instantly that I was the only customer. The bell rang as I entered, walking up to the cash register and observing the menu. I’ve never been here before but I’ve heard of it from a friend or two. They said the place was really good but looking around this place looks absolutely deserted.
Maybe I should call up one of my friends to see if they want to stay here with me, this place is a little creepy alone. I thought. Actually, never mind, I wouldn’t get any work done that way.
The sacrifices of being an anti-social writer I must make. Sacrifice my work or my comfort? I decided on my comfort, especially after I made eye-contact with a boy who started walking to the cash register from out of the kitchen door. If I leave now, I’ll feel guilty.
“Hello! What can I get started for you today?” the boy asked cheerfully.
Chill, it’s only 3 p.m. right now… I thought, not quite enjoying his energetic persona.
“Um…the raspberry lemonade?” I smiled nervously.
I just realized that I don’t know how to explain what a Carmel Macchiato from Starbucks is so the boy could copy it nor did I realize how attractive the male was until he got closer.
I suddenly felt self-conscious of my morning appearance as I started fiddling with my fingers and shirt as he typed the order down.
“Anything else?” he questioned.
I quickly looked at the menu, noticing the flower menu. I looked at it confused. His gaze followed mine as he smiled.
“The flower menu? My mother and sister works on the garden in the greenhouse outside. The flowers are organically grown with no pesticides or chemicals so their all natural.” The boy explained. “They’re really pretty and great for gifts! I can explain the flower language for you if you want.”
“Um, okay… I’ll have a vase and a white-pink orchid.” I answered.
“Great choice! Did you know orchids have different meanings such as luxury, wealth, fertility, good fortune, and abundance?” he explained excitedly.
I felt a smile creep onto my face as his contagious energy got to me.
“I didn't know that. I’m getting the flower so I can get good luck to being productive today—fingers crossed.” I smiled and crossed my fingers to liven my words.
He smiled back. “Well, in that case, allow me to give you my own fortune.”
Before I could ask him what he meant he disappeared behind the doors and didn’t come back until a few minutes. I waited semi-patiently as I looked around the small yet homey shop.
�� I saw small heads peek out from behind the counter, easily being able to figure out that it was the other Kamado siblings. I looked at them nervously, unsure what to do as they stared at me curiously. Do they not think I can see them?
I settled on smiling shy and awkwardly as I waved at them. They smiled, giggling as they scattered outside in excited and speaking in childish voices I couldn't understand.
I smiled slightly, well at least I made them laugh. The boy said soon came back from the back of the store with a vase filled with white-pink orchids.
"Here you go!" he smiled, placing the flower pot gently on the counter.
"Uh...I said one..." I mumbled awkwardly as I thought about how much that would be in total if I got them all.
I'll admit, it looks prettier with all the flowers together but I don't plan on spending 30 bucks for flowers and lemonade for myself.
"I said I'll give you my fortune, didn't I?" he spoke gently, causing my heart strings to be pulled. "I was originally going to give you an extra but it seems my siblings wanted you to have more." He chuckled nervously as four heads popped out behind him in sync.
"W-what!? I didn't give her one!" one of the kids shouted, his face going red.
"Yeah, you did! Don't you lie, Takeo!" a young girl said.
"Besides, even the dullest flower can bloom the brightest with another's touch." The eldest smiled.
I smiled back nervously. "W-well... thank you for thinking of me?" I commented.
"The flowers are free." He smiled, reading my mind as he got straight to the point.
"Free? You don't gotta, I can pay." I spoke, flabbergasted.
"No, no! I insist! Though the lemonade you'll be paying for." The boy chuckled nervously.
"Way to be a gentleman..." The young sister spoke sarcastically, puffing out her cheeks and giving her brother a disapproving glare.
"Lady killer...and not in a good way." The tsundere brother teased as he placed his hands behind his head.
I giggled, seeing the playful sibling banter between them.
"You're all siblings, right? I heard this bakery was family owned." I asked, making small talk as I grabbed my wallet from my pocket.
"Yes. I'm Tanjirou Kamado, the new owner. These are my siblings, Hanako, Takeo, Shigeru, and Rokuta. My other sister is out back along with my mother." The boy, Tanjirou, explained.
"I'm Y/N. You're the new owner, huh? How has that been treating you?" I questioned, trying to last the conversation as I slid him 20 bucks.
"It's very exhausting..." he physically deflated, causing his youngest brother, Rokuta, to poke him and giggle. "Oh. The lemonade was two dollars." Tanjirou explained.
"Consider it a thank you for the flowers and your hospitality." I smiled as I picked up my flower pot. "You think I could hang here for some time? I have some work to do on my computer and I love your bakery's atmosphere; it's calm and it'll help me think." I spoke.
He smiled excitedly and nodded. "Stay for as long as you like; we don't mind!"
That was the first time I met Tanjirou. Who knew my work would lead me to becoming friends with a locally famous baker? His bakery has now expanded and is now located a bit further from my apartment, yet I make an effort to try and get there every day. Whenever I skip a day, I'm greeted with kids huddled around me as Tanjirou they sulk about how much they missed me.
Tanjirou being Tanjirou, he's turned the bakery into a fundraiser too. Orphaned children and the children's hospital patients come here and hang out to get away from bad news or to enjoy their time with friends. I volunteered to read kid books and family-friendly novels for the children since I'm aware my books aren't exactly kid-friendly.
Tanjirou was absolutely flabbergasted when he found out I was a writer, specifically the new trending writer Y/N (yes it was hilarious watching his face morph from excitement to confusion to embarrassment to guilt to straight up tears of how he didn't figure this out sooner).
For months, I'd come in and help out. On days I didn't help, I'd work on my book or buy flowers. Tanjirou's been studying a whole bunch of flower language to try and figure out flower facts I don't know so he can impress me explain the meanings in more depth, but I believe it's endearing. Throughout our journey of getting to know each other, I've found myself to be slowly falling for him.
"I need blue hydrangeas, some white lilies, and iris!" I explained in a rush as I ran up to the counter.
"For your father? It's Father's Day! Did you know hydrangeas represent gratitude, grace, family, and beauty? And white lilies mean purity, innocence, rebirth, and caring. And Iris represents love and trust." Tanjirou explained.
"Yes! I'm aware! Thank you!" I smiled, tapping my foot anxiously. "And I'm late to dinner!" I cried out.
"Oh! Oh no!" Tanjirou exclaimed. "I'll get your flowers right away!" he ran quickly, getting my flowers in just a few minutes.
I slammed money down on the counter, not bothering to check the amount as I ran out towards the door.
"Good luck! Tell your dad I said hi!" he screamed.
Yeah, my dad doesn't like you but I'll tell him.
Other encounters went like this.
I slammed 40 bucks on the counter and looked at him Tanjirou irritated. "Give me the most hateful and rudest bouquet you can make while the flowers look pretty!" I huffed out.
"U-um...what happened? If you don't mind me asking." Tanjirou questioned, nervously.
"I'm going to a party with my friends and we're doing Secret Santas. Unfortunately, my friend gave me my ex as the person I'm going to be gifting." I explained, glaring at the counter. "And I don't like them but I want it to be passive-aggressive." I smiled. "And, I'm petty."
"Um...okay." He laughed nervously, disappearing out back.
He came back and handed me a bouquet.
"Geraniums represent stupidity, foxglove represents insincerity, meadowsweet represents uselessness, yellow carnations represent 'you have disappointed me', and orange lilies represent hatred." Tanjirou explained.
"One more thing." I slammed another 40 bucks on the counter, this time more gently. "Give me a whole bunch of lavender, pink bluebells, peonies, roses, and red chrysanthemum." He gave me an extremely confused look yet agreed.
He came back with the flowers and looked at me confused. "I thought you said you hated your ex?" Tanjirou questioned.
"Yeah? Well, happy birthday and I love you." I blurted out, handing him back the love bouquet as I grabbed the hate bouquet and ran.
"Thanks? But wait! Christmas isn't in July?!" Tanjirou exclaimed.
"The flowers are for you!" I shouted, before shutting the bakery door and racing out of the apartment, ignoring the smile present on my face.
Have any requests? Check my masterlist to see the characters I write for: Masterlist
#tanjirou x reader#tanjiro kamado#demon slayer tanjiro#demon slayer#x yn#tanjiro x reader#tanjirou#kimetsu tanjiro#kny#kimetsu no yaiba#tanjirou kamado#kny tanjirou#kny fanfic#kny x reader#demon slayer kimetsu no yaiba#stellar constellations#x fem!reader#fem reader#x you#yn#x reader#x y/n#kamado tanjiro#tanjiro kimetsu no yaiba#kimestu no yaiba#kny tanjiro kamado#kimetsu no yaiba x reader#kny manga#kny anime#kimetsu no yaiba manga
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I love Splinter and all, but nah. Nah. NAH!
Not naming any names or the kindergarten, but this happened at my internship, and I just HAVE to tell you about it. I was LUCKY not to be there.
Yesterday, after I got off my internship around lunch, the rest of the kids and adults stayed back. They did the usual thing - played with bricks, made drawings.
Now, keep in mind that we haven't been in that room all day, because we had been celebrating Fastelavn in the big open area in the hallway, so there had only been a mild disturbance in that room until that point.
One of the girls, the cutiest cutie there is, just finished a drawing for her mother, and decided to put it in her drawer, so she could show it to her when she picked her up. She opens her drawer to find a fucking rat. A big fucking rat, that has pissed all over her stuff.
Obviously, she screams. This 4 year old girl just found a rat in her drawer, so the most natural reaction for her is to scream. Now, this rat feels connered and now there is a child screaming at it, SO IT JUMPS ON HER
Now the whole room of 28 kids from the age of 3 - 6 years are screaming, because a girl had been jumped by a fucking rat. She gets the rat off, and the room is in chaos as this big ass rat runs around the room. Kids are running and scream and adults are too. A FUCKING TABLE WAS TURNED OVER!
This bastered of a none mutated ninja kind, fucking tries to jump one of the adults, AND SHE KICKS IT.
They get all the kids out of the room and call what we call a "rat-hound". A dog trained to hunt rats.
This dog goes in there and tears up the place! But it gets the rat, and it fucking kills it. A bloody mess, just up the table that was turned over.
They get the rat corps out, and they close of the room. It has to be deeped cleaned after a more in depth look through for rats. And the poor girl that was jumped, had a nightmare about that big little shit.
But now, how do I know what the room looks like when I wasn't there when it happens. Well, I had to GO IN THERE to get some CLEANING PRODUCTS that was by the door.
You know how in zombie or horror movies, where a monster has been killing left and right, and they show pics of an abandoned school or kindergarten, just to get the feels going in some why? THAT WAS WHAT IT LOOKED LIKE! No lights, it was cold, the room was a mess, everything was left where they last had it, the table was turned over AND THERE WAS A BLOODY SPOT WHERE THE RAT HAD BEEN.
ALL THIS HAPPENED, WHILE I FUCKING WROTE TMNT X READER STUFF LAST NIGHT! WTF
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All last year I was starting to lose my patience with helping out, I felt more stuck than ever and the situation was deteriorating rapidly. One of my dad's final promises was he would get me something so cool for Christmas that I'd remember him forever. But he wasn't well enough to remember that, and couldn't understand that I didn't trust him even in his best state to get me something I would remember him forever for. I mean, he kept picking up chocolate cakes from the gas station just when he started getting ill and forgot I don't like chocolate or cake. A sort of going through the motions that was bringing up a lot of bad memories from being a teenager.
But several years ago he bought me a perfume I mentioned by name in the car, I was starting to have the money to afford it, and I was excited about it. I think I bought a rollerball but didn't have the cash then for a whole ounce let alone three.
During the holidays it was maybe the first or last thing I was given to open and there it was. One ounce of Elizabeth and James in its little brown box and gold logo. He remembered the essentials and had mom help confirm it was the only one of its name, not do it for him but to make sure. He was very proud of it.
As an adult it was understandably more difficult to talk to me particularly when I would go days without talking or leaving except for work.
I stopped reaching out, emoting or expressing an interest in just about anything. I drank a lot and locked myself in the bathroom. So being able to sort of reach out with a light bulb moment and a memory of something I -had- wanted, he made sure he and my mother dropped into the Sephora for a box of perfume.
I still haven't opened that box. It's in my cabinet still wrapped in plastic in the dark so it won't go bad. Its traveled through two homes, and every so often I look at it when cleaning and dust it off.
I naturally had purchased my own bottle months to a year down the line to use and kept dad's safe in its container.
He couldn't make it through November, but my mom did the unimaginable by ordering me a one ounce bottle of Elizabeth and James, in its unchanged brown box and gold logo. I don't know what I'll do with two new boxes but I think dad would want me to use it. So I'm going to break it out of the cabinet and drop it in the perfume cask. Dad never had a signature cologne but fuck it, might as well wear it for the both of us.
If you ever get the chance, Nirvana - Bourbon is the warmest thing I've ever smelled, and I was under the impression they stopped production of it. I know I'll reach an age when they eventually will, so maybe this year's bottle I'll save.
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A Little Moxxie Love: Well that happened!,
Somedays I.M.P just had one of those days and one of those kinds of jobs. It had started all routine enough, a client came to their office looking for the service they provide to the best of their abilities of course. They go to the living world, find the target and make a corpse out of them. Simple as that, leave little to no evidence and back to their modest little slice of Hell, provided things didn't go FUBAR of course.
Except for the fact their client had been the recently deceased employee of a genetics research lab which had little to no moral compass on using animals as test subjects for God only knows what the fuck for. Not to forget to the target and cause of his death, that he naturally neglected to mention before hand of course had been FUCK MOTHERING HONEST TO GOD GREMLINS!! Yes somehow this bunch of amoral labcoat wearing intellectual jackasses had gotten their hands on a cute little mogwai, got him wet and then they fed the newly born ones AFTER midnight!! So they basically not only broke 2 of the 3 key rules when handling a mogwai, they wound up with the natural result of being ambushed by a hoard of gremlins who did as Gremlins were want to do.
That being cause untold wanton destruction and mayhem for shits and giggles, eat any and everything in sight and of course get themselves wet in order to multiply enough to make an army. Which meant I.M.P pretty much had to clean up this shit before these scaly goblin/troll looking scuzz-balls got out of the lab and made their way into a populated area like a small town or a major urban city. Where they would no doubt cause even more of a fuck-storm of chaos at least before they had to avoid any major potentially fatal bright lights like the sun then move on, rinse and repeat. it was fortunate they could be killed easier than cockroaches at least.
EXCEPT for the fact some of the anarchic little monsters started getting their grubby 3 clawed hands on of the lab's experimental chemicals, ingesting them nonchalantly which began to result in God only knows what sort of mutations. One of them grew batwings, another was turning into a living vegetable garden and don't even get started on the goddamn spider!! It was small wonder this had to require everyone in the whole misfit organisation, yes including even Loona who was busy mauling as many of the little goobers she could get within reach of tooth and claw. to say nothing of how busy as fuck Blitzo and Millie were painting the walls and ceiling with the green blood of every gremlin in sight, but what of Moxxie I hear you asking?
Well our favourite little possum found himself in a bit of a situation that was even more unexpected a snafu than finding out about this mission. As he was cornered in the rec room by one particular and quite frankly peculiar Gremlin who had something in mind besides wrecking other people's shit. Now by nature gremlins and mogwai were what you might call a mono-gendered, asexual species. They were technically mostly all male and their means of production consisted of getting soaked in water, causing more of their kind to multiply and sprout off their backs, so the bigger the body of water, the better.
But Moxxie you see wasn't dealing with the average Gremlin right now, for you see this one was legit an actual female. It seemed among the Lab's numerous formulas and mutagens, they'd cooked up one that could in theory physically and biologically change one's gender. For all their amoral antics and who knows what the fuck sort of acts against God and humanity they had going on here, seems one of those egghead fuck-wipes was apparently trying to make transitioning a better process for the T portion of the LGBT community. And this Gremlin right here was unintentional proof it sure as Hell worked!!
Moxxie:*currently backed up against a corner of the room as he scrambled through his coat to find any weapons on hand. His shirt messed up, bowtie missing as his face was covered in lipstick marks as he tried not to panic.* "N-now now miss, I'm sure you're as reasonable as you're very pretty so maybe you should reconsider...uhm..."*The imp spat and cursed, mumbling as he hadn't yet found something to defend himself. Damnit this bitch was horny!!*
??:*let out a mix of a purr and a giggle as the clicking of black stiletto high heels signalled every step closer to her prey. Yes this Gremlin, Greta we will call her, had changed in so many ways from the rest of her kind and it showed. Don't even ask where she got her outfit from, it was like these damn things operated on some toon logic and physics. As the shortstack minx ran a hand through her long mane of neon green hair, her pouty ruby lips making kisses at our imp boi, hips sashaying as she shed her snow leopard skin mini skirt, standing clad in just a matching set of a bra and thong panties.*"Oh why can't you commit?"
Moxxie:*knew the feeling all too well that he was literally and figuratively screwed. This she-gremlin was looking down to fuck, his golden eyes widening as she nonchalantly removed her bra. Tossing it aside as she now stood clad in just her thing and high heels and still looking down to fuck. To which the imp sighed and took a deep breath, looking intently at the lusty chaos beast.* “So this is how it’s gotta go, very well. But know this, I possesses a certain set of skills when it comes to dealing with women, my wife included. Skills that should you proceed with your intentions, that I will not hesitate to use. So bring it….Bitch…”
Greta:*let out a lusty mix of a coo and purr, as if Moxxie’s sudden mood shift was a total turn on for her.* “Oooh what a hunk!!” *The further emboldened and aroused female Gremlin wasted no further time as she pounced into the imp, grabbing and pulling down his pants, boxers and all!! Pink glowing hearts in her eyes as she beheld the imp’s now exposed, stiffening cock. Now this was a feast!!*
Greta proceeded of course to practically suffocate herself on that alpha imp dick, her Ruby red lips latched around that length and girth as licked and sucked on it. Her newfound sexual instincts guiding her into a primal drive to mate with this unique specimen as she deepthroated with abandon. Her snow leopard print thong soaked with her flow of juices as they made a puddle on the floor as she lewdly bobbed her head on that imp shaft with abandon. Moxxie gritting his teeth as he clutched her wild neon green mane of hair and facefucked her, driven to tame this insatiable she-beast.
it was no wonder and only natural that the battle of sexual wills proceeded to its next level as Greta now remained only in her high heels, arms and legs wrapped around the imp who was just as nude as the day he was born. Performing a standing fuck position as his hands clutched that bubbly scaly Jade booty of hers, his heavy balls smacking the outer rim of her netherlips. Juices splashing and flying as Greta let loose with deep beastly moans of primal desire at such grilling erotic sensations. Glowing pink hearts in her eyes as Moxxie proceeded to not only give her one helluva a first time but pretty much ruin her for other men altogether, and she wouldn’t want or have it any other way!
Greta:”Hahhnharder! Harder daddy!! Don’t stop! Make babies with me!!”*the sexually mutated gremlin howled lustfully, as Moxxie fucked her spotty style. Her lipstick smeared, mascara flowing down her eyes like gothic tears. Her stomach swollen from he deep his length and girth reached and filled her as those baby-making balls slapped her clit. She just couldn’t get enough of it!”
Moxxie:”This isn’t my first rodeo you know!”*The imp hitman quipped as he found himself on his back as Greta now rode him cowgirl style. Her 3 clawed hands caressing his chest as her hips bounced on his cock, his pelvis all soaked and sticky with their mixed juices. He had cum 5 times in this mutant and hadn’t pulled out once but he was no stranger to borderline nymphomaniacs!! Hands holding onto her waist as he used his best natural weapon in his arsenal, his infernal stamina!!*
The rec room clock ticked on, minute after minute into hour after hour as the imp and gremlin’s battle of erotic wills raged on. Position after position with Greta especially making sure she got plenty of oral and anal stimulation. It was a lucky thing the rule about never make a mogwai or gremlin didn’t apply to any liquid outside of water or this room would get pretty Damn crowded real fast!! But right about now Greta was enjoying getting wet in a more different and fun way and didn’t want to stop anytime soon.
Missionary to mating press, spread eagle to full nelson but Moxxie knew he would prevail! He could only hope that his co workers weren’t having too much trouble with the infestation, unaware of the security camera in the upper corner of the room that was catching each and every single moment of his and Greta’s sexual duel. All transmitting on a monitor in the security room, where Millie and Loona sat and enjoyed the show. Enjoying the snacks available as their crimson skin and fur respectively was stained with the green blood of gremlins.
Indeed Moxxie had nothing to worry about as they’d taken care of the infestation, preventing the little freaks from breaking out for their shit storm of chaos. Floor after floor, wall to wall and ceilings coated in the remains of gremlins, splatters and pools of green slime blood, body parts making it akin to a slaughterhouse. Of course the imp and hellhound didn’t think Moxxie needed to know that yet, not when he was having so much fun. Hey they just laid waste to a gremlin army, who said they couldn’t enjoy a free porn show?
Loona:-.-“Sooo we gonna take that one back with Us? Seems like a waste, girl gets her world rocked by fatty daddy and we got to off her?”*The hellhound quipped, tail idly wagging as she rubbed her thighs together. Phantom sensations of past intimacy with Moxxie coursing through her nerves. It reminded her she needed her fix.*
Millie:”Oh don’t you worry none, we just tell the client job done, sneak her back into hell and get her all nice, settled in with ID and papers. After a little of this of course…”*the wrath shortstack assured as she held up a syringe filled with the lab’s genetic sunblock. Handy to have on hand in deprive Greta of the bright light weakness. Sensually biting her lip as she and Loona watched Moxxie pin the kne of a kind lady gremlin against a wall and plow her fierce. The voyeur duo sharing a fist bump as their devious plan came together.*
Yes sir what the client didn’t know wouldn’t hurt, especially given it was payback for holding out on the mission details. Not Loona’s fault for the intel for sure as they conspired on smuggling Greta out of the living world and into hell, there was no doubt she’d make a killing in the lust circle. That is knowing she’d get her regular Moxxie dick fix of course. Plus who knows what kind of babies you’d get from a gremlin going all porno with an imp…for science!!
Blitzo of course was clueless about this going on, as he was busy fishing himself out of the mountain of gremlin bodies he’d racked up. Popping his head out as he looked around a sea of limbs and green blood, eyeing the handiwork akin to a critic analysing a work of art. Sitting comfy as he fished out a set of glasses from what had been one very brainy, chatty gremlin and out them on. Humming as he looked at where the 4th wall would be.
Blitzo:”Now, was that civilized? No, clearly not. Fun, but in no sense civilized. Now what we want is, I think, what everyone wants, and what you and yours have: civilization. The niceties. The fine points: diplomacy, compassion, standards, manners, tradition... that's what we're reaching toward. Oh, we may stumble along the way, but civilization, yes. Everything society has worked so hard to accomplish over the centuries, that's what we aspire to; we want to be civilized…..or something I dunno what the fuck I’m talking about….so any of you fuckers not dead yet?”
Now that’s comedy….
#sketchfan#sketchfanda#sketchfan85#helluva boss#helluva moxxie#helluva millie#moxxie#moxxie smut#moxxie helluva boss#millie#millie helluva boss#gremlins#gremlins 2#gremlins 1984#gremlins 2 the new batch#greta gremlin#gremlins greta
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it has been hard to enjoy life recently. but I know I have a lot of work to do and the payoff will be worth it. I am trying to focus on my mental health, really for real this time. not distracting myself with a million things in my schedule, too many social engagements, substances, and compulsive exercise. i gave up gluten and animal products, partly because I want to try anything to feel better physically and mentally, and also I know this is a desperate attempt at control during this time when I feel lost and overwhelmed. it's okay.
I have been angry. I'm angry that my parents have tried to have so much control over me throughout my life, angry that my feelings never seemed to really matter, angry that they always have and continue to think they know better than I do. I feel angry that my relationship with Luke was so emotionally abusive and pretty much mimicked my parents' relationship. I feel angry that I was assaulted as a teenager. I feel angry that I continue to be judged as a woman, and that so many men don't seem to think I can possibly know what I'm talking about. I'm angry that people won't take me seriously. I'm angry that I don't get to feel safe when I'm alone, even when I'm walking into the grocery store. i'm angry that I still keep fucking up and getting two day hangovers.
I want to have a healthy relationship with substances so bad. I think I'm finally, finallyyyyy at a point where maybe I feel ready to let go of hard drugs. it's not like I do them every day. but every time I partake, I just end up feeling like absolute shit for a day or two afterwards. it's awful. i hate it so much. I want to be done. I hate how many of my friends are so involved with that. I really really want to be done. it's so hard, being here and working in an industry where almost everyone has a substance abuse issue, and having a bunch of friends with substance abuse issues, and dating someone with substance abuse issues. obviously I'm in a tough position and I need to get out if I really want to change. it just adds to the motivation I have to move away from here.
I'm going to have to tell T that I don't want to attempt a long distance relationship after I move. one, LDRs just suck. two, I know that I need more from a partner. it's honestly sad how much I was swept away by the fact that he listens to me, supports me, and doesn't judge me. shouldn't that be the bare minimum? I think Luke really scarred me with his emotional abuse. anyway, T is a sweet person with a good heart. but he doesn't really have goals or ambitions or hobbies except partying and going to shows. I think he has a lot of self-reflection to do, but like so many people with substance abuse problems, he's terrified of looking inward. and it's not my job to do that for him. I have lived so much life and done so much work on myself, and I want someone who can match me. not someone I have to explain everything to. for fuck's sake, we were going for a hike by Lake Michigan the other day and he asked me which lake it was. I tried soooo hard not to sound condescending but like, we live here? next to this lake? you literally live 5 minutes walking from this lake and you don't know what it's called?????
yeah. I enjoy the companionship for now, but there's got to be someone out there who's better suited for me. I need to LEAVE. I am not doing very well here. I am not sure where to go next, either. I want go live on a homestead for the summer. somewhere I can breathe and reflect and eat well, and not have to work in a restaurant. I don't know. New York eventually, but I don't think it's the best thing RIGHT now. too much stress. I want to reconvene with Mother Nature for a minute, first.
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*sprinkles some Ninjago headcanons on the ground like I’m feeding birds breadcrumbs in the park*
Jay
Jay builds up static electricity when nervous/anxious/angry, I think most people agree on this one, but like, also, Jay’s hair looks fluffy not because it actually is, but because the electric build-up makes it puff up. It’s very frizzy, it’s like a chip bag in that it’s like 90% air in there and 10% actual substance.
He shaved the slit into his eyebrow and wore concealer to cover his freckles in an attempt to look cool when he was younger, now he goes without the concealer and fills in the eyebrow slit because he regrets it, hence the change from his og design to his reboot design.
Bi, obviously, we all know this. Trans too.
Has spent an abysmal amount of time playing Minecraft, probably has one of those Minecraft torch lamps or the LED diamond ore block.
Zane
Zane’s favorite color is actually pink, fuck canon.
Demipanromantic and asexual.
Zane loves to make macarons because he’s very particular and prides himself on his ability to make something so technically difficult without any errors, plus he thinks they look nice and they’re easy to share.
He likes cooking competition shows but like, usually defaults to something where everyone is nice like the Great British Bake Off. Occasionally he will get into A Mood and watch one of the more aggressive shows and be just as judgy and harsh as the judges in it.
Zane doesn’t like it when people touch his kitchen. Don’t do it. He keeps everything a certain way, if you mess with it he’ll know. You may touch the fridge and microwave only, but you’re on thin ice (I love Zane cooking headcanons can you tell).
He had a little too much fun pretending to be Snake Jaguar, just a little. He considered getting himself a proper bike after the whole incident but ultimately decided not to.
The temperature of the room drops when he’s upset, usually not by much though. This becomes far more frequent and far worse after the Never Realm, to the point that on a bad day, you will need a coat no matter where you are in the monastery.
Kai
Kai is a whore. That’s it that’s the headcanon.
He has a mullet.
Pan and transed his gender, but like, pan in the opposite way of Zane, pan like “as long as they’re hot I don’t care more options for me”.
He wears eyeshadow. Just a little bit but his eyelids are just a lil darker and a lil shinier than they should be. He insists it’s natural beauty, it’s not.
He thinks expensive things must automatically be better because they are expensive, hence why his hair products are making him go broke.
Cole
Cole is very touchy with Zane (you can interpret this as platonic or romantic), I think he just finds Zane very endearing.
He’s secretly really into The Real Housewives and other reality TV shows. Kai too, but even more secretly, he’d die if anyone found out, so neither of them knows about the other. They just live for the drama.
*chanting* Cole with locs Cole with locs Cole with locs.
He’s gay. We all know this, it’s almost not worth putting on here.
Cole is Zane’s certified taste tester, whether Zane actually wants his assistance or not. Zane will be like “no wait don’t touch th—” and Cole will dip a finger into some big pot of soup or something and lick it like “hm yeah needs more salt, keep up the good work Pinky.”
Due to his previously strained relationship with his father, Cole had been opposed to the idea of being a father himself for a long time. After taking care of baby Wu, he now loves the idea of being a father one day and is really excited for it.
Nya
She changed her makeup and started growing her hair out after meeting her mother since meeting her made Nya want to look more like her, even though prior to s15 they really weren’t close at all.
Bi, naturally.
Her favorite color is actually red and will always be red, even after she’s mostly retired wearing the color in favor of blue due to her being the water ninja (I know her VA said her favorite color is blue but I call bs, she wore exclusively red prior to the soft reboot and I bet red reminds her of her brother who was the only family she had for a long time, so red it is).
She still REALLY misses being Samurai X sometimes. She’s considered making herself a new suit and trying to be both Samurai X and the water ninja at the same time, but obviously those two things don’t mesh so well, so she always decides against it.
Pixal
Pixal was flat-chested and had a very gender neutral body type in her original design made by Cyrus Borg, as canonically she is genderless but has female programming. After rebuilding herself she transed her gender and gave herself a more feminine build.
So trans, and also pan.
Part of the reason she’s so into building things for the ninja besides just a need for it and an ability to do it is because she loves her father dearly and inventing+building things makes her feel more like him.
Lloyd
Ace-aro and nonbinary, uses he/they.
Pointy ears, pointier teeth!
Their eyes were red before they unlocked their powers as the green ninja. During s9 when he didn’t have his powers, their eyes went back to red, which was a little jarring for others to see.
Hates movies about ghosts for obvious reasons.
Still listens to edgy music, never grew out of it, and honestly? Good for them, good for them.
#ninjago#zane ninjago#zane julien#kai ninjago#kai smith#jay ninjago#jay walker#cole ninjago#cole brookstone#nya ninjago#nya smith#pixal borg#pixal ninjago#lloyd garmadon#lloyd ninjago
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