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#i would like life updates for all of them
joelsgreys · 2 days
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a safe haven l ten
Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader
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series masterlist l previous chapter l next chapter
summary: After a long night, Joel and Ellie take you home.
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. (TW) THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS MENTIONS OF DOMESTIC VIOLENCE, MENTIONS OF AN INJURY SUSTAINED FROM AN ACT OF DOMESTIC VIOLENCE, PREGNANCY, CONVERSATIONS SURROUNDING PREGNANCY LOSS . PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS. Ellie and reader are very close to each other, Joel deals with feelings of guilt, Joel and Maria make nice, Joel gives reader a bath and washes her hair, food consumption (i am just gonna apologize to my lactose intolerant folks right now, trust me i must pretend with you), both reader and Joel have some big feelings, reader mentions her deceased father, angst, soft and domestic Joel, fluff.
word count: 5k
a/n: i have not updated this series since october. :l i feel a a mixed bag of emotions updating after all this time, but most of all, i am grateful to know there are a couple of people out there who are still invested in this story. to anyone who has been waiting: truly, it means the world that you have shown me patience, support, and kindness. believe me, i am going to be seeing this story to the end, and it is all thanks to those who continue to show this lil story of mine a whole lotta love. special shoutout to the loveliest human @mrsmando who made me this beautiful mooodboard every single time i got stuck during this chapter, i looked at it and it gave me the boost of inspiration i needed. thank you mimi <33 this chapter is fairly tame, the next chapter is already in the works, and there are a couple of time jumps coming. overall, we are down to the last handful of chapters. let’s finish this story and give these two the ending they deserve, shall we?
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“What the hell is taking Tommy so fucking long?” Ellie whines. She’s sprawled out on the couch with her head in your lap, and her arm draped over her eyes. Her feet are hanging, dangling over the edge of the couch at an odd angle after you’d warned her not to get muck from her sneakers on the linen fabric. Despite Joel insisting over and over that she head on back to the house, she had stubbornly refused, not wanting to leave your side. “It’s been over two hours! He’s taking fucking forever, man. What’s the fucking hold up?”
Joel bites back a sigh, masking his own impatience. Or at least, he tries. He’s grown just as restless as the kid, if not more. Much like Ellie, he’s desperate. He’s itching to take you home already, almost too anxious to watch you take that first step over his threshold, and into your new life with him and with Ellie. He aches, aches, to get you settled into the place where you would be spending the remainder of your days with one another, where you would be safe, and loved in the way you deserved to be loved—the place where he would cherish and adore you until his final breath.
“Don’t know,” he answers, his voice sounding rougher, more gruff than usual. Reaching up, he scrubs his hand down the side of his face, adding tiredly, “He might be a while longer, kiddo. It could be another hour, could be more. Like I already told you, s’probably best if you just go on and head back to the house without us, alright?”
“No. I’m not walking out that fucking door unless she’s with me.” She pauses and pulls her arm away from her face for a moment, just long enough to throw a teeny glare his way. “Unless you’re both with me. The three of us go home together, or it’s no fucking deal. Got it?”
He shakes his head in utter exasperation.
“Ellie, we’ll be right here down the fuckin’ road—”
Her hand shoots out and she flips him off.
Just when he’s about to chastise her, he stops himself, clamping his mouth shut. It’s pointless.
Kid’s too goddamn hard headed for her own good, and Joel knows he’s just wasting his breath with her.
“I’m sure he’ll be back soon,” you reassure them both, weaving your fingers through her hair to scratch at her scalp in an effort to soothe her. “Right, Joel?”
He meets your exhausted, worn down gaze from where he’s standing across the room, and his heart lurches in his chest. As the guilt begins creeping in, he’s forced to look away. He can’t imagine the living hell you had been through over the last twenty four hours alone. And the worst part about it was the realization that last night, while he was fast asleep in bed just a couple of houses up the road, that fucking bastard had his belt wrapped around your throat.
Joel feels sick to his fucking stomach all over again.
Horrifying, vividly real images of you helplessly trapped underneath Luke scratching and clawing at the leather around your neck with trembling fingers, struggling to breathe oxygen into your burning lungs as he tugged it tighter and tighter through the buckle flash in his mind, a gruesome nightmare turned into reality.
Exactly how far had Luke taken it?
Until you had grown too weak to keep fighting?
Until you almost lost complete consciousness?
Until he noticed the life threatening to leave your eyes?
Is that when he had finally stopped pulling on the belt?
Joel shudders, a bitter taste climbing up his throat as it sinks in. He could have lost you—and his unborn child.
This shouldn’t have happened.
He shouldn’t have let you walk away that night.
This wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t let you walk away from him that night.
“Joel,” you say his name, quiet and weary.
His head snaps back in your direction and he glances at you, almost missing the subtle shake of your head. It is a silent warning telling him not to go there, though you know by the tight clench of his jaw it’s too late for that.
Joel makes the futile attempt to hide it, but he sees it written all over your face—you know what he’s thinking because you know him like the back of your own hand, and you just know he’s placing all of the blame for what happened to you on his own shoulders.
But can you honestly fault him for that?
How can you expect him not to feel like he is somehow responsible for this? Just how the hell is he supposed to make himself believe he hadn’t failed you?
Joel promised—he had fucking promised you—that he wouldn’t let anything bad happen to you. He had sworn to keep you safe, made a vow to protect you from Luke, but here you are, your soft, delicate flesh marred with the painful evidence of yet another one of his failures.
And it was all because he had let you walk away on that fucking night.
He should have done something.
Even if it meant running the risk of you never speaking to him again—even if you never forgave him, spent the rest of your life angry and hating him for going against your wishes. He should have something.
“Joel—”
“Be right back,” he mutters, lightly shaking his head.
Shoving away from the doorframe he’s leaning against, Joel pivots on the heel of his boot and starts down the hallway. He walks into the kitchen where he finds Maria standing at the counter, tapping her fingers against the smooth, laminated oakwood as she waits for the coffee she’d offered him a few minutes ago to finish brewing. She’d offered to whip up a quick supper, but food was the last thing on everyone’s mind.
“Tommy’s been gone for a couple hours now. Girls are startin’ to get real tired of just sittin’ around waitin’ for him to come back,” he tells her, exhaling the sigh he’d held back in the living room. “What do you think could be keepin’ him so long?”
With her back still to him, Maria reminds him, “Well, he did mention he was going to round up the council and get them together for an emergency meeting.” She lets out a sigh that matches his own—it’s been a long night for her, too. When the last drop of dark roast drips into the glass pot, she carefully takes the pot by the plastic handle and pours the steaming coffee into a speckled, white and blue ceramic mug. “Do you take it with milk and sugar?”
“No thanks, that’s alright,” he declines as politely as he can.
“I also have cinnamon if you’d like?”
“Plain black’s just fine.” He gives her a nod of gratitude when she hands it to him. “Thank you. And I don’t just mean the coffee, but for, uh—for bandagin’ up my hand for me, too.” He clocks the brief look of surprise on her face and almost laughs. He doesn’t blame her for being taken aback, because truth be told, so is he. Since he’d met Maria, he had known she didn’t trust him as far as she could throw him. There was something of a mutual understanding between them, a silent agreement they had made to keep each other at arm’s length, to only interact when it was absolutely necessary.
Never did he think he would be standing in her kitchen, thanking her for patching up his hand, and for making him a cup of coffee out of the kindness of her heart.
His brother wouldn’t believe it.
“Don’t mention it.” Crossing her arms over her chest, she leans back against the counter. “How’s it feel, by the way?”
“S’fine,” he replies, shrugging. “Nothin’ I can’t handle.”
There’s a momentary silence. A taste of tension lingers over their heads, and he knows at one point or another, he’s going to have to address the affair, the very reason everything had unfolded in such a terrible manner.
Guess now’s as good a time as fuckin’ any, he thinks to himself with an inward sigh.
Joel lightly clears his throat. “Listen, since we’ve got a minute alone, just the two of us, I was wonderin’ if, uh—if we could talk ‘bout somethin’? If that’s alright?”
“Of course.” Maria gives him the floor.
“I know that she—” Pausing, he shuffles from the heel of one boot to the other, his ears burning hot. He had known it wouldn’t be an easy conversation to have, but he underestimated just how uncomfortable it would be, regardless of what she already knew. “I know she told you and Tommy all ‘bout us, and ‘bout our relationship. See, the thing is, the first time I saw her—”
Again, Joel stops, the burning sensation now radiating, spreading from his ears to his face and down his neck, flushing his skin a deep, deep shade of pink. Unable to meet his sister in law’s gaze, he glances down into his mug, as if he will somehow find the right words to say somewhere in the depths of his coffee.
“It was never my intention, y’know,” he finally says after a minute. “Goin’ after a married woman. I swear, I never meant to fall for her. I just fuckin’ did. I think I might’ve fallen for her long before I even met her,” he confesses. He feels himself darken to a shade of maroon under her curious stare. “And somehow, for reasons I ain’t all too sure I’ll ever understand, she fell for me too.”
Maria raises an eyebrow at him. “Look, I’m not judging you, Joel,” she assures him, shaking her head. “If that’s what you’re thinking. I’m not judging her, either.”
He looks up at her, blurting out, “You’re not?”
She moves her hands to cradle her swollen middle. “Do I wish you two had handled everything differently?” she answers her own query with a nod of her head. “Oh, I’m sure we all do. But I’ve known her for a long time now. I know the kind of woman she is. And I’m starting to see the kind of man you are.”
“And what kinda man is that, Maria?”
He waits without the slightest clue as to what she could possibly say.
“Since you came back to Jackson, I’ve chosen to keep my distance from you—but make no mistake, I’ve been watching you like a hawk since day one. Waiting for any signs of trouble. Waiting for you to fuck up. Waiting for you to give me a good reason to throw your ass out of this community because I didn’t trust you. Not after all the things I was told about you.”
He snorts. “You goin’ somewhere with this?”
“You are not who I thought you were,” Maria admits, smiling wryly. “I’ve gotten to see a different side of you. You pull your weight around here by doing your job and doing it well. You stay out of trouble—for the most part. And more importantly, I have seen the way that you’ve stepped up to be a father figure to Ellie. It takes a good man to do that, Joel.”
“Think that’s the nicest fuckin’ thing you’ve ever said to me,” he muses, setting his mug down on the counter. “I stepped up because I love her. I love them both. Those two, they’re the best parts of me. They’re the reasons I keep goin’ and now I’ve got another reason on the way.”
Maria smiles, but it vanishes as quickly as it appears.
Catching her hesitance, Joel asks, “What? What is it?”
“What comes next is not going to be easy,” she warns him, lowering her voice. Even with the living room a fair distance from the kitchen, she doesn’t want to run the risk of you overhearing her. “For as hard as we’re going to try to contain the fire, it will spread, and everyone in this town will find out about everything—including the affair. People are going to talk, and believe me, they’re going to have a whole lot to say about it, Joel.”
He can’t help but roll his eyes at her.
“Think I can handle some fuckin’ gossip, Maria.”
“I know you can. But I’m not sure if she can,” Maria tells him, quietly. “It worries me. She’s been through a lot in just one night alone. I don’t want her stressing anymore than she already has. She is in a very delicate stage of her pregnancy right now, Joel. If she’s not careful, she could have a miscarriage. She had one about two years ago when her father became sick—” Observing his lack of a reaction, she realizes, “You knew that already.”
“Yeah,” he sighs. He knows where she’s going with this. “I did. She told me ‘bout it.”
“It makes her chances of having another one higher—”
Joel doesn’t even allow himself to think of it happening to you again. “I get it,” he interjects, trying not to sound too curt. “I’ll make sure she takes it real easy, alright?”
Lifting a hand off her belly, she reaches out and takes a hold of his forearm, gripping it tightly.
“Promise me something, Joel. Promise me that you’ll look after her,” Maria pleads him, gently. “Please. After everything she’s been through—I need you to promise me that she’s going to be in good hands with you.”
He nods. Without thinking, he places his hand over hers in an unexpected token of affection and reassurance. “You have my word, Maria. I’ll take good care of her.”
She gives his arm a grateful squeeze, then glances over his shoulder at the clock on the wall. “It’s getting pretty late. We don’t know how much longer Tommy’s going to be with the council. Why don’t we just go ahead and call it a night?” she suggests. “We can all get together first thing in the morning at your place to talk about it.”
“Yeah, good idea,” he agrees. “She really needs to rest.”
Maria gives his arm another squeeze. 
“Go on then, Joel. Take your girls home.”
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“Finally!” Ellie exclaims with a dramatic flail of her arms as she shoves through the front door.
“Alright, kiddo. Get your behind upstairs and into the shower,” Joel instructs her, flipping on the lights in the foyer. “Y’smell like fuckin’ horse shit.”
She lifts the collar of her shirt to her nose, takes a whiff, and makes a face. “Yeah, I won’t argue with you there,” she mutters. She toes off her dirty sneakers and leaves them beside the door before dashing up the staircase, taking two steps at a time.
He shouts after her, “And don’t use up all the hot—”
“Yeah, yeah, I fucking know the rules, dude!”
Moments later, you both hear the shower going.
“Little shit,” he grumbles.
You exhale an amused huff through your nose.
Joel withdraws his arm from around your shoulders and reaches for your hand, lacing your fingers together. “C’mon, darlin’.” He guides you up the stairs and down the hallway into his bedroom where he switches on the light before proceeding to lead you over to his dresser. “I’ve got a bunch of shirts in this top drawer here,” he says. Dropping your hand, he pulls it open for you and gestures to it with a jut of his chin as he takes a step backwards, moving out of the way. “Go ahead and pick one to sleep in tonight. Want you to be comfortable, so help yourself to whichever one you want, sweet girl.”
Nodding, you begin to rummage through the drawer, unaware of the moment he slips away. You reach for a t-shirt, but then a plaid green flannel catches your eye. You pluck it from the drawer, running your fingers over the soft, warm fabric. “Is it alright if I wear—?” You turn around, stopping mid sentence when you realize he’s no longer standing behind you. Puzzled, you follow the sound of running water into the bathroom where you find him kneeling beside the tub. “Joel? What are you doing?”
“Runnin’ you a bath.”
You notice the bloodied bandage beside him on the tile floor. “Joel, are you serious?” you scold him. “Maria just patched your hand up for you.”
“S’okay, peach. I can rewrap it when we’re done.” Joel sticks his injured hand under the faucet to check the temperature, the cold water soothing his cuts. Once it turns warm, then hot, he pulls out his hand, waiting for the tub to fill halfway before shutting the faucet off and rising to his feet. “C’mere, sweetheart.” He rolls the sleeves of his shirt up to his forearms, then beckons for you with both of his hands. “Let’s get you washed up.”
You remain standing by the door. “Joel, you don’t have to do this for me.”
“I know.”
“I’m capable of washing myself—”
“Yeah, I know that too,” he says, chuckling. “S’only fair, darlin’. Don’t you think?”
That’s when it hits you—how this moment is mirroring that night you had cleaned Joel up after you and Ellie had brought him home from the clinic with an injured shoulder. He allowed you to take care of him, and now, he was looking to do the same for you. And all you had to do was let him.
“But your hand—”
“Will be just fine,” Joel persists, stubbornly. “It’s nothin’ but a few cuts and scrapes. C’mon—or else I’m gonna march right over there and get you myself, peach.”
Knowing Joel, you certainly wouldn’t put it past him to throw you over his should and carry you to the bathtub.
“Fine,” you relent with a small sigh of defeat.
Setting his shirt down on the sink, you slowly walk over towards him and whirl around, letting him help you out of your knitted cardigan. You finish undressing yourself, inhaling a deep breath as you muster up the courage to turn back around and face him—when you finally do, it feels like a punch to the gut to see the heartbreak in his dark brown eyes, the subtle tremble of his bottom lip. You don’t have to look at yourself in the mirror to know it looks about a hundred times worse when you’re not wearing clothes.
Keeping your arms down at your sides, you fight every urge to cover yourself up. You’ve never felt so fucking vulnerable.
Clearing his throat, Joel holds out his hand. “C’mere.”
You accept it, and he helps you into the tub.
“How’s the water? S’not too hot, is it?”
You shake your head and he leans forward, kissing your temple so sweetly, your eyes flutter closed.
He washes your hair first, then takes a clean washcloth, lathering it up with a bar of milk and honey soap—the same soap he would smell on your skin all those nights. Admittedly, Joel preferred castile soap, but switched it when he found himself missing you during those weeks you were apart from him, when he needed the comfort of your scent. He is gentle with you, so gentle, as if he’s afraid you’ll shatter into pieces in his hands.
As he lightly drags the washcloth up your back and around your neck, you stiffen, prompting him to freeze too. “Fuck. Baby, did I hurt you?” he asks, and you hear the slight panic in his tone.
“No,” you say quickly, desperately trying to swallow the lump rising in your throat. “No, you didn’t hurt me. It’s just—” Every overwhelming emotion slams into you all at once, and you can’t seem to figure out which one to feel first. Humiliation? Fear? Relief?
The water sloshes around you as you pull your legs up to your chest and wrap your arms around your knees, giving yourself permission to feel them all. Bowing your head, you begin to sob quietly, hoping that Ellie, who is just down the hallway, won’t hear you crying again.
Joel says nothing. Washcloth still clutched in his hand, he leans forward over the edge of the tub and wraps his arms around you, pulling you close, or at least, as close as the barrier between the two of you will allow him.
“Joel,” you choke, trying to push him off. “Stop it. Your clothes, they’re getting all wet.”
“Hush. Don’t fuckin’ care ‘bout my clothes,” he croaks, and for a second, you swear he’s about to cry too. But he doesn’t. He holds himself strong. Tugging you closer against his chest, he buries his nose into your soaking wet hair, whispering his reassurance. “You’re okay, baby. You’re safe, my sweet girl. I’ve got you, alright?”
He pulls back slightly, dipping his hand into the water, placing it on your lower belly.
You look down, your eyes glazing over his bruised and battered knuckles. Proof that Joel Miller really would do anything for you.
“I know you do,” you say, softly. “I know you’ve got me, Joel.”
A while later, you’re dried, dressed, and composed. You follow Joel out of the bathroom and back into his room, where he has you take a seat on the bed. Noticing you had missed a button on his flannel shirt, he does it for you. He plants a kiss on the top of your head and says, “Give me a minute while I change.”
He peels off his wet clothes, being careful so as not to further agitate his sore, injured hand. After changing into a pair of gray sweatpants and an old, faded black t-shirt, he turns around only to find you’re sitting in bed underneath the covers.
“Sorry,” you apologize with a nervous chuckle as you rest your back against the headboard. “It just looked so warm and cozy—and it smells like you. I couldn’t resist making myself comfortable.”
Joel pads over to the side of the bed. He leans over, planting one hand on either side of you as he dips his head and brushes his lips against yours. “Ain’t got no reason to apologize, baby,” he assures you in a gentle murmur. “This is your bed now too, peach. This is your room. This is your home. Alright?”
Home.
You’re home.
He touches the tip of his nose to yours, and then draws himself back up to full height. “There’s somethin’ that I’ve gotta take care of downstairs, peach. I won’t be too long,” he promises.
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It’s almost midnight. Joel goes about the kitchen and he prepares you the quickest meal that he can think of. He plates the sandwich he’d thrown together and pours a glass of cow’s milk—he’s always sure to keep a pint of it in the refrigerator to make the kid her oatmeal in the mornings.
He heads back upstairs, only to find that while he had been gone, Ellie had joined you, making herself a little too comfortable on his side of the bed. He stands there at the door, watching the two of you.
“Hey, so is it true babies can hear stuff while they’re in there?” Ellie questions you, curiously.
“Mhm,” you reply with a nod. “They can hear music, for example. Voices—”
“Voices?” She smushes her face into your stomach and he hears a muffled, “Hey, dude!”
You giggle. “Ellie, I think it’s still a little too early.”
“When do you think it’ll be able to hear me?”
“I’m not too sure. In a few months, maybe?”
Ellie lifts her head, humming. “You know, I bet there’s baby books in the library,” she tells you as she sits up. “I’ll have Dina help me look for one tommor—oh shit.” She stares at you with wide eyes. “Dina! How are you going to tell her and Talia about Luke?”
Joel grimaces. He hadn’t thought of that, either.
“I—I’m not too sure.”
“You have to fucking tell them. Dina has to know about him. She has to know what a piece of shit he is, and so does Talia.”
Sensing your discomfort, Joel steps into the bedroom and intervenes before she can say another word. “Ellie, get to bed. S’late.”
“But—”
“Don’t make me tell you again,” he warns her, sternly.
She huffs, rolling her eyes. “Fine.” She climbs off the bed and on her way out, she eyes the plate in his hand. “That chicken?”
“Turkey. And it ain’t for you, it’s for her. So scram, kid.”
“Couldn’t have made me one while you were at it, old man?”
“Ellie, if you don’t get outta here right now—”
“Alright!” Ellie holds her hands up. “I’m leaving. Jesus.”
She disappears, closing the door behind her.
“Pain in my ass,” Joel mumbles, shaking his head as he walks over and carefully perches himself beside you. He hands you the plate. “Here, darlin’.”
“Joel, I appreciate this, but I’m really not very hungry.”
“Maybe not, but y’gotta eat,” he insists. “Baby needs it.”
Thankfully, you accept it without further protest.
“I’ll have Ellie get your things tomorrow,” Joel states as you’re eating. “Maria can go along with her since she knows the house. They’ll get your clothes and whatever else you might need outta there.”
“My father’s belongings.” You accidentally talk through a mouthful of turkey and bread. Swallowing, you tell him, “I have some boxes of his stuff in the basement. But they’re way too heavy for either of them to carry.”
“I’ll take care of that for you.” He reaches up, wiping a breadcrumb from the corner of your mouth with his thumb. “I can ask Tommy to give me a hand. Don’t you worry, peach. We won’t leave your dad’s things behind, I swear it.”
Relieved, you shoot him a grateful look, then polish off the last few bites of your sandwich.
“Here,” he says, offering you the glass of milk. “Figured it’s good for you, and good for the baby. Y’know, since it’s got calcium and…stuff.” He shrugs sheepishly, no clue as to what he’s talking about. “Vitamins, right?”
Nodding, you grab the glass and take a reluctant sip.
“You hate milk,” Joel realizes, raising an eyebrow.
“I do,” you admit with a laugh. “But you’re right. It’s good for both me and the baby, so cheers.” And with that, you somehow force the entire glass down.
He sets the dishes aside on the nightstand, figuring he can take them downstairs first thing in the morning.
Without bothering to rebandage his hand like he’d told you he would, Joel turns off the lights and climbs into bed with you. “All those nights wishin’ I could bring you home,” he muses as you curl into his side. “Wantin’ nothin’ more than to hold you in my arms in this bed. In our bed.” His arm slips around your shoulders, a laugh rumbling through his chest. “Almost doesn’t feel real, darlin’.”
Tilting your head, you nuzzle your nose into the scruff of his beard, prompting him to laugh again. Then, he remembers his conversation with Maria, and his smile fades from his face, his lips pursing together.
You catch the sudden shift in his demeanor.
“Joel? What’s the matter?”
“M’fine, baby. It’s just—” He hesitates. “From this point forward, I need you to let me handle things.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t want you gettin’ all stressed out, alright? I don’t want to run the risk of you—” He’s unsure of how to say it.
“Of me losing the baby,” you finish for him, quietly.
Joel winces, knowing he was wandering into sensitive territory. “Yeah. I—I really don’t want that to happen.” He pauses. “Maria mentioned to me you’re in a delicate stage. When do you reckon you’ll stop—how long until you don’t gotta worry ‘bout it?”
“After twelve weeks, my risk isn’t as high. If I make it to the second trimester in six weeks, then my chances of having another miscarriage are lower.”
Though you speak calmly, he clocks your anxiousness.
You’re worried, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t fucking worried out of his mind too.
Being a father at his age wasn’t ideal, but he wanted this child. It was part of him, and more importantly, it was a part of you.
Joel squeezes your shoulders. “I only ask ‘cause I was thinkin’ that, y’know, once we get to that point, maybe I can go ahead and start buildin’ the baby’s crib.”
“You’re going to build the crib?”
He nods. “And the highchair too. I can even make you a diaper changin’ table if y’want one.”
“Joel.” You can’t help but chuckle. “Our worlds were just turned completely upside down. You just found out that I’m pregnant, and you’re already thinking about building furniture? Aren’t we getting a little ahead of ourselves?”
“Hey, those things take a whole ‘lotta time,” he says in defense of himself. “Besides, winter’s right around the corner and I don’t wanna be out in the garage freezin’ my fuckin’ ass off. If I can get a head start now, I can have them all done in the spring by the time the baby comes.”
You fall silent.
“What’s on your mind?”
“I’m really scared of losing it,” you confess. “When I first took that pregnancy test, I wanted nothing more for it to be negative. Now, I’m terrified I won’t make it past my first trimester again. I really don’t want to lose it. I want this baby, Joel.”
He turns his head, meeting your eyes in the silver light shining through the lace curtains over his window. “S’why you’ve gotta let me handle things, darlin’. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“C’mere, my sweet girl.” Joel presses his lips to yours, murmuring against them, “I love you.”
His declaration comes with natural ease.
And so does yours.
“I love you too, Joel.”
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wynnyfryd · 2 days
Text
Trailer park Steve AU part 63
part 1 | part 62 | tumblr masterlist | ao3
cw: references to canonical horror. short update today while i restructure some stuff in the next scene <3
“I’m staying with him,” Steve says, toeing a weed in the soft soil. Testing the give. Thinks maybe he’ll be doing that for the rest of his life. 
“Uh,” Robin objects. They’re at the top of the hill again, halfway to the car — everyone but Eddie, who refused to leave the boathouse after telling them in horrific detail how a cheerleader floated up to the ceiling and popped like a cheap balloon, and whose pale, frightened face Steve can see staring at them through a grimy window, two black dots hardly daring to blink. 
“Steve.”
“Huh?” 
Max calls him a total space-case.
Robin groans up at the sky. "As much as we would all love to have a spooky sleepover with you two under a tarp—”
“Mm, would we love that?” Dustin wonders. 
“—I'm not so sure our parents would be too thrilled about us not coming home when there's a freaky evil killer magician on the loose!"
Max snorts at that; mutters under her breath. “My mom probably wouldn’t mind.”
Dustin whines, “Mine would!”
Three people turn in unison to lay into him for being a dick, but he’s already holding up his hands in surrender, cringing so hard it folds his face like crumpled paper. “Sorry,” he winces. “Sorry. That was rude.”
“Yep,” Max agrees with a flat smack of her lips.
Eddie's still waiting by the window.
Steve just nods at them — arms folded, shoulders broad. "Dustin’s right.” He turns to Robin. “You both are.”
“Thank you,” she sighs, the sound long and airy, sweet with relief that he's seen reason.
She takes a wide step toward the car.
Steve says, “Which is why I'm staying here, and you're all going home."
Her foot falls back down to the ground; legs stretched in a standing split, shoes slipping on wet grass. “Oh, my god." This sigh is sour. "Oh, my god, of course you are.”
“We’re not leaving you,” says Dustin.
“Wasn’t asking,” Steve replies.
Robin lets out a strangled noise of frustration and shimmies herself upright. "Steve, please!" She marches over. "I know you’re all” —her hands come up around her head, voice warbling; wooOoo-ooh— “about your boyfriend-slash-not-boyfriend-slash-whatever being in danger, and I get that, babe, I really do, but I don't! Know how! To drive!"
Steve turns to Max. 
She’s looking right at them, mouth pinched in a flat line over the laugh she's holding back. Restrained as ever, but Steve can see the glimmer of excitement at the edge of her expression — the subtle twitch of her nostrils, the muscle jumping in her jaw. 
I've driven it before. 
"...Do not," he warns as he presses his keys into her palm; closes her fist around the metal, "fuck this up."
tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)
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mionemymind · 2 days
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To Be Loved Is To Be Considered
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Summary: The moments that Wanda considered Y/n aka the moments her loved showed.
Warnings: Fluff, Established Relationship
A/n: I know y’all love angst but please give this fluff a chance too. GIF credits to @causeitswhatjesuswouldfreakingdo
Word Count: 1.3k
Masterlist
Love is not always about the sacrifices you do but rather the moments in life where you consider more than yourself. To be loved is to be considered. And this is how Wanda considered Y/n.
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On no particular evening, Y/n lay asleep on the living room couch after finishing her part of the shared chores. Wanda still had one more thing on her list when she noticed her girlfriend was sound asleep.
Tiptoeing closer, the red head saw the slight shiver on Y/n’s skin. Wanda clicked her tongue in disapproval and used her magic to get the blanket from the living room. Grabbing it from the air, she placed the blanket on top of Y/n and placed a small kiss on her forehead.
The music in the background was lowered to a small hum as Wanda continued with her chores, the last thing being on her list was to water the plants.
Taking her time, Wanda danced around their apartment as she watered the plants, even murmuring small affirmations to certain plants that were taking a while to grow.
And after 20 minutes, feeling satisfied with the clean apartment, Wanda slipped under the blanket and cuddled into her warm girlfriend. It didn’t take long for the red head to fall into a small slumber.
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Y/n has a certain lazy personality when it comes to her safety, something Wanda has always hated. But no matter how many times the red head will berate her girlfriend, Y/n never listens. In her head, as long as she gets back to Wanda, that’s all that matters.
So as Y/n sat in the long pre-mission briefing, Wanda had always checked Y/n’s suit for safety. Any time gadgets need an update, Wanda would be the first to put in the request. When she notices a hindrance in Y/n’s performance, Wanda could always tell why and how certain modifications can help.
Wanda paid attention to make sure that Y/n could focus solely on her job.During the times where they are partnered up, Wanda was always glad to double check over her work.
Y/n knew that when her suit always felt up to date, never without holes before a mission, and surprisingly clean, that Wanda must’ve done something.
So in turn, Y/n never failed to come back to Wanda.
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The warm dim vibe of the restaurant contrasted the loud activity that happened throughout. Wanda and Y/n sat closer to the bar, already dinning in.
It was date night, Wanda had been wanting to try a new spot in LA with great views and amazing food. “You made a great choice, babe.” Wanda smiled at Y/n’s praise.
“Should we get a couple of drinks?” As Y/n nodded in agreement, the waiter came with the food. “Here you go ladies.”
As he sat the food down, Y/n bit back the frown when she noticed the greens she specifically didn’t want mixed with her alfredo. Looking over Wanda’s food, Y/n smiled at how perfect it turned out.
“At least they got her’s right,” Y/n thought.
“Does everything look good?” The waiter asked, waiting for approval.
“Yeah everything-,” Wanda glanced at her girlfriend’s food with a disapproving look ready to say something but Y/n had interrupted her.
“Yeah, everything looks good. Thank you.” The waiter smiled and walked away. Once he was out of sight, Y/n sighed at her food.
“You should’ve let me say something dekta.” Y/n shrugged her shoulders, not wanting to argue with Wanda.
“I really don’t like complaining to them Wanda. Wait staff already have a lot on their hands.” Although Wanda knew they were both right, she was still unhappy to see Y/n unable to eat.
So as Y/n drank her water, Wanda switched their plates. Y/n almost disagreed, but the look on Wanda’s face silenced Y/n. “Now eat, let’s not waste a lovely date night now.”
Y/n smiled and took a bite of the steak, the juicy and flavorful feeling filled her mouth. As they continued the date, Y/n gave Wanda a couple pieces of steak as a small thank you.
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“Dekta, I’m home!” Wanda placed her keys in the bowl and walked into the kitchen, dropping the grocery bag on the counter.
“In here, babe!” Y/n yelled from the office. Once Wanda put away the groceries, her eyes finally set on the gift waiting for her at the kitchen table.
Walking to it, Wanda smiled at the bouquet of flowers wrapped in brown paper. In the middle, a note read ‘For my beautiful and lovely girlfriend, Wanda. Love, your dekta.’
She picked it up, enjoying the smell. Right beside it sat the Sokovian treats that she had mentioned craving the other day.
Already opening a pack, Wanda walked into the office, a gift in hand. Y/n was in the middle of playing video games, her back facing Wanda.
“Pause the game and close your eyes, dekta.” Y/n paused the game.
“Am I in trouble?” Wanda giggled as she placed the gift in Y/n’s lap, giving a small peck on her forehead.
“You’re not in trouble. But open them.” Y/n opened her eyes, mouth slack at the sight of a new gaming controller. The plastered smile on her face made Wanda smile even more.
“I hope you like the color.”
“Like it?!!” Y/n was flabbergasted by the gesture, immediately pulling Wanda in for a massive hug.
“Thank you so much, babe! I can game so much better with this.”
“Maybe then you can aim.” Y/n pouted at the slight jab from Wanda but still kissed her nonetheless.
“I’ll have you know, I blame the drift on my old controller.”
“Yeah, yeah. Give me another kiss so you can play your game.” Y/n pulled Wanda in for a deeper kiss, feeling happy for the unexpected gift.
As Wanda’s smile broke the kiss, she gave her girlfriend another peck on the lips and went back to the kitchen to grab her snacks. She ate them in their office as she watched her girlfriend still miserably lose in Overwatch.
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In their shared bed, Wanda sat in her spot, reading the new book assigned for the month. Laying beside her, Y/n watched a new show on Netflix, making sure to keep the volume low to not disturb Wanda.
“Babe, can you mess with my hair?” Before Wanda could utter yes, Y/n had already laid her head down on her lap, settling herself in a comfortable position.
Without a word, Wanda used her free hand and combed her fingers through Y/n’s hair. A soft groan escaped Y/n’s lips, as she said, “What page are you on?”
“Only in the second chapter, she’s being transported to a new place after killing the wolf.” Y/n hummed in response and continued to watch.
While Wanda combed through Y/n’s hair, she began to notice how her hand hadn't felt plastic frames. Realizing that her girlfriend had been unable to see the show this whole time, Wanda stopped her book. She briefly put it down to notice her girlfriend’s glasses were on the desk across the room.
Rolling her eyes, she continued to read as her magic floated the glasses right in front of Y/n. As if it was a silent command, Y/n put on her glasses, a small smile on her lips as she could finally see clearly.
Y/n placed a small kiss on Wanda’s thigh as a thank you. Together, the two continued to enjoy each other’s activities in the presence of each other.
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Love is not always grand. Love is mostly kind. Feeling considered is something the heart will forever crave. And Wanda will always consider Y/n.
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@halobaby  @arelyitsherec8 @blackxwidowsxwife @cristin-rjd @madamevirgo @trikruismybitch @paradiselost916 @mmmmokdok @morbid-gaymer @dailyavengering @itsnottilly @helloalycia @randomshyperson @tomy5girls @daenerys713 @ensorcellme @lezzzbehonesthere @imagine-reblog
@sighsam @olsensnpm @tquick99 @feolok @emilyprentisslittlewhore @mvddison99 @iamapotato @yuhloversxx @mjaudrey @upsidedowndanvers @somewhatgreatexpectations @wandavixen @magicallymaximoff @username23345 @coollemonsaresour @littlewinchester15 @aimezvousbrahms @afuckingshituniverse @am-just-a-cosmic-joke-to-me 
@ohmygooddamnbisexualmood @diaryoflife @s7uts @newyork1432 @the-anxious-stargazer @hello-mtf @marvelousbelladonna @ima-gi–na-tion @obsessed-with-wandamaximoff @the-camilucha 
@itsnottilly @171611 @kaitlynroseb @daisybri7 @drpepperobsessed @bemyvitamin @musicinourlips @marvelousbelladonna @gingerbreadcookieforlife @xastrydx @chasethemoon @naixia00 @lostandsearching @stupidsapphicsstuff @haechanana @the-camilucha @severepeanutartisanhands @owloftheshadows @somewhatgreatexpectations @ywuen @mixed-fandom-mess @loomontoia @ilovemarvelwomen @coxmicbabygirl  @cyanide-mustard @mrs-avenger3000 @prentisshoe @andrea-stark @simpforwandanat @abimess @randomshyperson @yourtaletotell @magically-queer-stuff 
@imapotatao @iliketozoneout @maximoffbrossupremacy​@olsensnpm​ @psychadelichues​ @whitelotus00 @taliiiaasteria @tynix @autorasexy @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @hiiraya @reginassweetheart @milkeeteaa @alyciaddict @justgotlizzied
@msmothermaximoff @ielliesitchyeyereposts
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i feel like the paparazzi should have had a bigger role in hoo. i mean since piper was the daughter of one of the most biggest actors in hollywood and percy is one of the america's most wanted, both of them on a suspicious cruise ship with some other mysterious people causing random chaos everywhere should have caused a little bit of hysteria among the media.
for one, i feel like it would add a lot of humour and chaos. imagine every dinner or lunch scene on the argo II starting with a funny update of what the newspaper has to say about their new globetrotting adventure. imagine the paparazzi reminding percy more about his life ("mr. jackson, are you going to explode another monument?!" "bestie what r you talking about?"). imagine every fight scene being interrupted by people asking questions.
but imagine the angst potential too. imagine the paparazzi affecting piper's arc of figuring herself out. and the additional pressure she feels to maintain this relationship with jason. imagine percy and annabeth falling into tartarus because the flashing lights prevented the rest of the seven from getting to them on time. imagine all the mental breakdowns on camera. imagine them worrying that sally and grover would see everything on tv.
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Note
there is this whole thing about shane being the type of guy to curse you out immediately because he does in this pg way on stardew he is like leave me alone but man in real life would be saying curses every minute and it would be so funny at least to me also i am IMPATIENT for this update i am actually so exicited
I told yall I answer things late...😅
And absolutely, without a shadow of a doubt.
He's a depressed alcoholic that plays video games. Those are the worst combos to have when it comes to swearing.
Dude swears like it's breathing 10000%
But it be funny if the reason Shane stays pg around the Farmer (at least at the beginning) is because Mayor Lewis gets after him if he does swear at them.
Especially if they're new in town.
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I know everyone likes to meme on Lewis but I think he does care for the farmers enough to watch their back.
just not the tax money
THAT and it be funny if when he DOES swear, the Farmer is unable to hear it as words and only as beeps
Mr. Qi is protecting their innocent little ears
Like that one Scott Pilgrim bit!
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Don't worry, Jas was out of the house.
Bonus detail! Shane's canonical in-game height is around 5'7
Technically, this is short for a man but as a dude who's 5'4...I am severely depressed/j
All the guys in my family are 5'4, I was screwed from the start 💀
I put way too much effort into the backgrounds but they also came out pretty good so here's that!:
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I PROMISE I'll draw the guy happy and content with life at some point but for comedic purposes, he'll be grumpy mean guy with a lot of issues for a bit
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dreamscarx · 2 days
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Hi! Here is my version 2 savefile! 😊 What is new? - New townies more stories (a few of them don't have storylines, but will add later) - Aparments/Townhouses are set as residential rentals - I fixed some routing issues with some lots - Added some details to New Crest - I added lots to ~(2) Granite Falls ~(1) Selvadorada ~(2) San Myshuno ~(2) Sulani ~(3) Britechester ~(8) San Sequoia ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I used MCCC to place other creators' townies in my save. Creators used: BrownieeTheGoat Plumzet Symplesimss Simquoya Kingzbomb Please check them out they have amazing sims! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Warning! Pack Heavy!
Packs used: EPs: All packs GPs: All packs except for Vampires, ROM, JTB, and Werewolves SPs: All Stuff Packs Kits: All kits except for Bust the Dust and Modern Menswear ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
No CC was used in this save, but I did use mods however you do now need these mods to play in this save. I do recommend some mods for some builds to function and some storylines to work BUT YOU DO NOT NEED THEM, they are just for realism MODS used: MCCC UI Cheats Tool Better Build Buy Recommended MODS: (They are Optional, you don't need them for this save file only if you want more realism) Simrealist: SNB, Real Estate Mod Turbo Driver: Wicked Whims Basemental Mod, Basemental Gangs BlacklifeSims: Default Car Replacements Khippie: Default Terrain Replacement Littlemisssam: SimDa Dating App, More Visitors, Zooroo ATM Lumpinou: Contextual Social Interactions, First Impressions, MoodPack, No Strings Attached, Open Love Life, Road To Romance, Relationship & Pregnancy Overhaul, Talents&Weakness Weerbesu:- Ui Cheats, More Columns Mod Adeepindigo: Dental Mod, Healthcare Redux Thepancake1 and MizoreYukii: Color Slider, Bed Cuddle MizoreYukki: Sim City Loans, Drama Mod RVSN: Retail Therapy Food Mods: Littlebowbulb | QMBIBI | Srsly | ATS4 | Somik & Severinka | TheFoodGroup: Custom Drinks, Custom Food | Icemunmun | Apricot Rush Food Retextures ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ If you decide to download this savefile and run into any problems please message me so I can fix them and update the save file.
Also if you decide to download this save file, please don’t claim any of the lots or townies as your own, Please tag me in any post I would like to see your sims in this save! With all that said I really do hope you enjoy this safe file if you decide to download it!
Happy Simming! ~SN~ if anyone wants to contribute sims to this savefile, let me know I will make sure to add them and credit you...this was the hardest part for me and the reason it took so long to get version 2 out and I still didn't add enough sims, I will be adding more diverse couples/families, elders, teens, kids toddlers and infants. Download [SimfileShare][Patreon]
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imfinereallyy · 1 day
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I wonder if you look both ways (When you cross my mind) pt. 3
a nice long update for ya ♡ part 1 part 2
cw: internalized homophobia and projecting internalized homophobia (from an oc)
🐝・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・✦ʚɞ
June 1996, Chicago
Steve's first steps into his living room are not met with silence and sunshine; in fact, he is met with two surprises.
The first being Eddie Munson still in his apartment.
Steve rubs the tired out of his eyes, squishing his palm into his lids in hopes of shaking out a morning delusion. He is proven unsuccessful..
His second surprise is that Eddie is awake, staring at Steve in high alert, blankets folded neatly (he must have scrounged around for them in the night, not that Steve minds), sitting patiently as if he has been waiting for hours for Steve's arrival.
If the second surprise hadn't happened, Steve might have excused the first. See, Eddie, in all the years he had known him, had been anything but an early riser, usually choosing to sleep the day away. So if he had been asleep still, Steve might have let him being in his apartment slide.
Steve ponders how he doesn't really know Eddie anymore, so he shouldn't actually be surprised.
Eddie clears his throat, "So, how about that talk?"
Steve has to resist shutting his eyes to relish in the sound of Eddie's deep timbre. His voice has grown scratchy over the years—from singing or cigarettes, Steve can't be sure. It feels like coming home, either way, to have his voice brush over him.
Instead, Steve clears his throat back. "Don't have time; maybe try again in another five years." He moves to the kitchen to start making their morning drinks—hot coffee with cream for Robin and an iced dirty chai for Steve.
When Dustin had been working at a cafe back when he was in college, he made Steve try all of their new drinks. Surprisingly his favorite became a dirty chai—something which Robin finds hilarious.
Steve grabs the chipped green mug from the cabinet and begins pouring Robin's coffee. It had already been hot and ready in the pot, which probably meant Eddie had prepped it for him. Steve doesn't comment.
Eddie huffs through his nose, "C'mon Stevi—Steve. It's ten in the morning on a Saturday. You can't tell me you're busy right now."
Steve has to resist slamming Robin's mug down on the counter, already having being put together after the 1994 incident, he doesn't want to face her wrath.
Gently placing it on the counter, Steve turns. "Actually, I have somewhere to be at twelve, not that you need to know that. And don't act like you know what's going on in my life, Munson."
Eddie smiles, a little laugh escapes him. God, it is like a fucking drug after years of being sober that laugh. Steve wants to beg him for another hit, even though he knows it's bad for him.
With the smile never leaving his face, Eddie raises his hands. "Okay, okay. You're right."
"Why are you smiling? This isn't funny." Steve huffs.
Eddie's face softens, "Sorry, just even though you're mad at me. You're talking to me, and shit, sweetheart. I would take that over silence any day. It's nice to hear your voice."
Steve has to force himself to keep his shoulders tense, wanting to sag into Eddie. He's still mad at him, furious even. But some part of him agrees deep down, this is nice.
He can never let Eddie know that.
"Fuck off, Munson. I have shit to do. I'm sure you're too busy anyway."
Eddie shakes his head, hair falling in front of his face. "No, trust me I have nothing else going on. The band is on hiatus. And even if we weren't, trust me when I say this is exactly where I am supposed to be right now."
Steve can't help the snort that comes out of him, "Funny you're asking me to trust you, asshole. That went out the door with your bags five years ago."
Eddie flinches back, "Okay, I deserve that one."
Steve doesn't mention to Eddie how he knows his band has been on hiatus for over a year now. How he's kept up on the band, even after Eddie left. How he is curious why they went on hiatus at all, they have two successful albums, and supposedly were working on their third, when suddenly they all decided it was time for a break.
Peak of their career, and they chose silence. Normally, a horrible career move, but it seems it makes the rock community want them even more.
Steve can understand that partially. When it comes to Eddie, you can't help but want more, even when he disappears without a trace.
"I got to go get ready. Seriously, Munson. I know you think I don't mean it when I say leave. I think you're stuck on the Steve from five years ago, and how the Steve from then wouldn't really mean it. But this is the Steve now. And Steve from now means it when he says, get the fuck out. Go find someone else who could actually use your presence, like Dustin. God knows the kid deserves a phone call."
Eddie opens his mouth to protest, but doesn't get to chance to say his peace, Steve's already on his way back to his bedroom with their drinks in hand.
🐝・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・✦ʚɞ
Steve is running late.
It's not his fault, he has a fucking ghost haunting his living room, and it takes him ten times longer to work around it. Robin tells him to cancel his lunch, but Steve doesn't, even though she's right.
Robin's always right.
Steve can't help but feel a little smug when thinking back to leaving his apartment, though. He looks good, wearing his nicest Levi's and soft white button-up. Steve had made sure to keep the top few buttons undone, showing off his gold necklaces that landed perfectly on his exposed chest hair.
For Drew, of course, not for Eddie.
Still, Steve knows he looks good. So when he leaves his apartment and Eddie doesn't even bother to try to talk to him again because he is just too busy staring at Steve.
Steve makes it to the restaurant only five minutes late. It would have been on time if it had been in his athletic prime.
Resturant, Steve realizes, is a bit of a stretch. It appears to be a cafe--but not one of those cozy ones with crazy colors and a fun name. No, this cafe is incredibly fancy. Everything is so sleek and high up, the name in an Italian word he'll have to asked Robin to translate later.
Steve looks around the cafe in a huff, realizing Drew is nowhere to be found. He is momentarily flooded with relief, knowing he has beaten Drew to the cafe.
Steve finds a table in a corner and waits. His brief relief is quickly swept away into annoyance as he sits there for minutes with no signs of Drew.
It takes another thirty minutes, before Drew is finally at the cafe.
"Sorry, I'm late, baby." He says breath even. Steve knows he was in no rush to be here on time. He doesn't move to kiss Steve, not on the cheek and certainly not on the mouth. Drew isn't one for PDA, or so he says. Instead, he smooths down his dark blue Armani suit and sits across from Steve.
"You know, you could give me a kiss. I haven't seen you in a week." Steve decides to move past his being late; there is no point in arguing. If it had been him, Steve is sure he would never hear the end of it.
"Sweetheart..." Drew whispers and brushes his hand against Steve's knee. Steve's lip twitches; he doesn't like it when Drew calls him that. "You know it isn't safe to do that."
Steve wants to throw Drew's hand off of him, but he doesn't. It's always like this between them, Steve wants more, and Drew pulls back. It's beginning to feel tiresome, this game between them. They have been dating for a year and have made no progress in public. Steve's lucky Robin gets to know, seeing as basically no one else in either of their lives knows about each other. For Steve, everyone knows of Drew but not his name. For Drew, Steve is almost sure no one even knows he's gay.
Steve wants to hit himself for the thought. It's unfair of him to put these expectations on Drew, everyone comes out at their own pace. He would be a hypocrite if he pushed him; it had taken him nineteen years to figure out he was bisexual. Took Eddie leaving for him to come out to anyone other than Robin.
It feels different somehow with Drew, though. Like this isn't him scared to come out, but more like Drew doesn't actually see a future with Steve. It had taken them six months to even label themselves as boyfriends, moving from late-night booty calls to watching a movie together in Steve's living room in the middle of a Tuesday.
Steve rubs his temples instead of smacking Drew's hand away. Steve feels tired of this cycle. He knows this is the best he's going to get when it comes to dating. With women, they often want him to admit that he was experimenting, wanting to shun parts of himself away. That or they are convinced he's gay. Well, he is, but it's more than that, and they don't seem to get it.
With men, it's the opposite problem. Either they need him to admit being bisexual is just something he used to make himself feel better, or they are only looking for a quick hookup.
Hookups are nice, but approaching thirty, Steve wants something real and is perhaps sick of finding out the man he brings home from the bar is married.
He knows this is the best he's going to get.
"Maybe if we met a cafe in my neighborhood, we could be a bit more affectionate. The one down the block has a rainbow flag and everything."
Drew scrunches his nose, "Why do that when we can get nice coffee like this?"
Steve doesn't point out that neither Drew nor himself has ordered coffee. Steve can't afford the coffee here, and Drew was late. "I think that's your way of saying where I live isn't nice."
Drew grabs his hand under the table, "No, babe, I don't want to fight today. I've missed you."
Steve feels bad; he has missed Drew. Despite their ups and downs (and Robin's grumbles), Steve does care for him. "You're right, I'm sorry."
"Don't worry about it. Besides, I did want to have lunch for a reason." Drew smiles brightly. Steve can't help but stare for a minute. It's no surprise what hooked Steve the first moment they met at the club. He is a classic kind of handsome. Wavy brown hair cut to look proper, a shiny white smile, piercing blue eyes. Nothing about him is soft, he is full of sharpness that takes you from across the room.
He's the kind of guy Steve's parents would have loved if they were okay with Drew being a guy—if Steve was even talking to them at all.
"Oh yes, you've got me on the edge of my seat." Steve jokes.
Drew gives him a charming smile, "There's my funny guy."
Steve rolls his eyes.
"So I have a big question for you..."
Steve freezes up; oh no. Here it comes. The talk, the let's move into together speech. One he'll have to turn down. No one ever gets it. How he can't live without Robin. Literally and physically.
"....so Greg says there's an opening and I think you'd be a great fit."
Steve shakes himself out of his thoughts, "What?"
Drew levels him with a look. "A job? For you?"
Oh. "I already have a job."
It's Drew's turn to roll his eyes, "C'mon, Steve. A high school guidance counselor? You could do so much more."
"I like my job, Drew. We've been through this. Besides, you barely want to be seen together, and now you want to work together? I have no interest in working at a law firm."
Drew pinches his nose, "Just...just think about it, okay? I want to see more of you in any way I can."
Steve doesn't want to fight. The fight left him a long time ago. "Okay."
He doesn't mean it.
🐝・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・✦ʚɞ
aaah im loving where this is going, also I swear it gets better soon and this has a happy ending!! also thanks for the love and support. This will probably be the last part where I will take tag requests for the series so please ask now, cause its getting too long. But parts will always be updated on the previous posts and my page!!
tag list!:
@stevesbipanic @withacapitalp @emryyyyy09 @brainfugk @blueberrylemontea-fanfic
@slv-333 @thetinymm @connected-dots-st-reblogger @helpimstuckposting @dreamercec
@goodolefashionedloverboi @stripey82 @little2nerdy @anne-bennett-cosplayer @resident-gay-bitch
@ghostquer @sourw0lfs @devondespresso @yesdangerpls
@lingermirth
@adealwithher @antonymeanonyme @stevah-hawcett @samsoble @mugloversonly
@stripey82 @anaibis @mycatsstolemybiscuit @flustratedcas @alfhitchblonde
@s0ft-strawberries @slavicviking @theheadlessphilosopher
@l1lpip @emmabubbles @arepaconchocolate
@thesuninyaface @hallo-spaceb0y @dykelips @bookbinderbitch @valinwonderland
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arealphrooblem · 2 days
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Kidnapped by the Boss Part 7
Hey guys! Sorry it's been like a million years since I updated anything! I got burned out for a while and I'm slowly getting back to it. Hopefully with summer break looming, you'll see more of me!
Synopsis: Civilian is a secretary to the Prime Minster. But when the political summit between the city states goes awry, she finds herself kidnapped by the very boss she tried to protect and nothing is what it seems.
Part one here
Part six here
"What is this?”
It looked harmless, a small metal rectangular wrist band with no buttons or engraving or adornment of any kind. She didn’t trust it, regardless, not that that mattered to Rook, who kept his explanations to himself as he grabbed her hand. She tried to jerk it back, but his grip turned bruising and iron tight as he latched it shut.  
It hugged tightly on her, a nearly imperceptible hum against her skin. Only a tiny seam remained on the bottom, with no button or latch or catch to open it.
“What is it?” she demanded, swallowing down a flutter of panic.
Rook rolled his eyes. “Relax, princess. It’s just a tracker.”
“A tracker?”
“Yeah. Consider it your freedom. Now you can go anywhere you want and no one has to worry about you slipping out to somewhere you shouldn’t be.”
She gave him an appraising look. “Are you going to come fetch me if I go somewhere I shouldn’t?”
“No. I’m just going to push a button and an electric current will take you out until someone finds you.”
He gazed back, utterly impassive, and Val couldn’t tell if he was trying to scare her or not. She refused to be cowed though.
“How strong of a current are we talking about?” she asked
A smirk spread slowly across his face. “Why don’t you get near an airport and find out? If it doesn’t kill you, then you’ll have your answer.”
Val jut her chin up, meeting his smirk with a glare. “Do you get a kick out of trying to make me afraid? Does it make you feel tough?”
He snorted and stepped closer to her. She stood stock still as he linked their arms together.
“You’re in enemy territory, Val,” he murmured, ducking his head down close to her ear, like he was sharing a secret.  “I’m just trying to keep you on your toes.”
“How thoughtful of you.”
The corner of his mouth lifted up. “My king wants you down for lunch in his office. I’ll show you the way.”
The king’s office looked much the same as it did when he was Eugene the Prime Minister. Papers scattered in random piles, post it notes scribbled with cryptic notes only he understood. Reminders taped on walls, the desk, the door.
A table was cleared off, the papers clearly dumped on the desk. A spread of soup and sandwiches sat on it, the king sitting in one of the chairs, waiting. Val was hit with a pang of nostalgia, because this set up looked exactly like the ones they had during campaign season. She didn’t know if he did it deliberately or if this was just how he ran his life.
“Afternoon, Val,” he said with a smile. “I see you have your tracker now.”
“And potential execution device,” she added dryly.
He shrugged. “Only a stupid person would need to worry about the electric shock and you are not stupid.”
“That makes me feel so much better.”
He smiled again, ignoring her sarcasm. “Have a seat.”
She reluctantly joined him and helped herself to a sandwich, knowing this whole charade was just to watch her eat. Rook did not join them, preferring to lean against the wall next to the king. It felt a little unnerving to eat under both of their stares but she knew there’d be hell to pay if she didn’t.
And she had to admit, the food was painfully delicious.  
“You now control the lock on your door,” the king said (Aris? It still didn’t feel right but neither did Eugene). “You may stay or leave your room as you please. All unlocked areas of the castle are open to you, as well as the grounds. If you wish to head into the city, Rook will escort you.”
Rook’s mouth fell open in outrage. “You cannot be serious! I babysit her enough as it is and you want me to take her out for ice cream and shopping? Who is protecting you while I run bullshit errands with her?”
“Hey! Just because I’m a woman doesn’t mean I have a shopping addiction,” she snapped.
“Like you wouldn’t jump at the chance to blow all the king’s treasury just to fuck us over.”
“What the hell am I going to be buying to drain it — a super yacht?”
“Children, please.” The king — Aris — held up a hand. “It’s not an ideal situation for any of us, but the two of you will have to give each other a little faith.”
Val and Rook let out twin snorts of derision and then shot each other matching glares.
“As I was saying,” Aris said with a warning look, “you have been given a probationary amount of freedom, Val.”
“Probationary?” So this was temporary?
“Yes. Your privileges will change depending on your actions. If you stay obedient, prove yourself, then you freedoms will grow. If you try to circumvent your restrictions, you will lose your freedoms and live in a cell much less cozy than the rooms I’ve given you.”
Obedient. Like a toddler. Like a dog. 
Not for the first time did helpless rage well up in her throat like acid. So many retorts and screams crowded her mouth that it rendered her speechless, unable to choose which to say first and terrified to say any of them.
Eug— Aris — looked at her in such smug satisfaction, as if proud of himself for bestowing a phenomenal gift. If Rook wasn’t in the room, Val could have hit him. Her fingers curled in on themselves to fight the temptation regardless.
“Do you have any questions?” Aris tilted his head slightly, studying her.
She used to love having his full attention on her — something made rare and precious because of his busy schedule and bouts of scatterbrained day dreaming. Right now it made her skin crawl, adding fuel to the feeling of constantly being under surveillance, never able to relax.
“Can I go now?” she asked tightly.
His gaze ducked down to her half-eaten lunch. “You haven’t finished your food.”
The rage leaped up, like a kerosene drenched campfire. She felt reckless and wild with it and without a second thought, flipped her plate off the table to watch it shatter to the floor, food spraying over the lush carpet.
“I’m done,” she said. “Now?”
She had no idea what her face looked like at that moment, but whatever Aris saw on it made him sit back in his seat.
“Yes,” he said slowly, warily. “Of course.”
Val stood so far that her chair fell backwards. “Thank you,” she bit out, dripping venom, before striding out the door.
She had no idea where she was headed, and she didn’t care. Val picked a direction and walked as fast as she could towards it. If it led her to a so-called restricted section of the palace, then maybe that would put her out of her misery.
The padded footsteps sound too close and too late to react before a hand grabbed her shoulder. Val whirled around, fist striking out in pure instinct at the warm body behind her. In less than a second, that body gripped her wrist and shoved her against the wall of the hallway.
Rook.
Of course.
“Someone is very cranky today,” he said, the corner of his mouth tugging up in a smirk.
“Let me go,” she snarled, pushing ineffectively against him.
Rook complied, releasing the bruising grip on her wrist and taking a wide step back, hands up in mock surrender.
“Not many people can scare the king, but I think you managed it just then,” he said.
“What the hell do you want? You have a tracker now. You don’t need to stalk me anymore.”
“We never finished our tour. I wouldn’t want you wandering somewhere you shouldn’t and getting electrocuted on your first day.”
“I’ll figure it out on my own, thanks.”
Rook gave her that same kind of stare Aris did — an assessment. Complete with head tilt. They must spend a lot of time together.
“You’re very angry for someone who was just given a significant amount of freedom that they quite frankly don’t deserve,” he said slowly.
She gave him a poisonous look. “I am not talking about this with you.”
And now that smirk again. “Thank god. I’m not paid to be a feelings person. But I think I know what you need.”
“A long walk off a tall cliff?”
He snorted. “Tempting. But no. Follow me and find out.”
It was probably a stupid decision to follow the most untrustworthy person she’d ever met, but having more opportunities to hate Rook offered her a welcome distraction. So, against all sanity, Val followed him down to an elevator and watched him push the basement button.
“Is that where you keep the torture chambers?” she asked, half joking, half . . .not joking.
“Sometimes it feels that way,” he muttered back.
The elevator dinged and opened to gleaming wooden floors and bright lights. It looked like the reception of a swanky business more than a typical basement. Down a short hallway sat an interior room lined with windows and inside sat various mats, weights, and other equipment.
“You brought me to the gym?” she asked dubiously.
“Yep.”
He made a bee line to a tall metal cabinet and pulled out boxing gloves. “Catch.”
Too fast for her to react, they hit Val square in the face and fell to the floor. She sent him another glare as he snickered before bending down to pick them up.
“You want me to hit something?”
Which actually sounded great, come to think of it.
“I want you to hit me.”
Oh even fucking better.
It felt too good to be true. But Val watched as he pulled out two wide padded circles and fitted them over his palms before he stepped onto one of the mats.
“You gonna put them on or are you chickening out?”
She yanked them onto her hands, their weight surprisingly heavy and then followed him onto the mat.
Rook held up his hands in the mock surrender pose.
“Hit these as hard as you can.”
“You’re serious?” She eyed him dubiously. “What if I hit you in the face?”
“You won’t.”
“You sure? It seems real tempting.”
He grinned. “The day you land a hit on me, I’ll smuggle you back home myself.”
As much as she wanted to deck his face, Val knew a trap when she heard one. Instead, she followed his instructions, landing a blow square against the right hand pad.
He didn’t even budge.
“Come on, Val, I know that’s not all you got. You were so full of rage earlier. Don’t tell me it left already.”
Oh, it didn’t. But she felt nervous putting her full effort in. Either it would hurt him and he’d make her pay or it would be pathetic and he’d mock her.
“You can’t laugh,” she said.
“Oh, I’m going to laugh. Now fucking hit me already.”
She took a deep breath and then slammed her fist against the pad with all her might. He never lost his footing, but she was pleased to see his body sway a fraction.
“Much better. I knew you had it in you. Do it again.”
“What’s the point of this?” she asked.
He shrugged. “Stress relief. I love hitting things when I’m mad. And if you’re hitting me then you’re not hitting my king. So come on, Val. Give me everything you’ve got.”
He asked and she delivered. Val channeled all the injustice, the fear, the grief that the last week had brought her into her fists, driving them over and over into Rook’s padded hands. She didn’t stop, not when her arms started to shake, not when sweat soaked her back, not when a lancing pain hit her shoulder with each impact. It was mindless violence with no victim and it blocked out everything else.
“Ok, okay, Val. That’s enough.”
His voice echoed distantly and she dismissed it instantly. He took a step back and she chased him. It wasn’t until he wrapped his arms around her from behind, trapping her arms against her sides.
“That’s enough Val,” he said in her ear.
She was breathing like a winded rhinoceros, her chest burning with it. But with each slowed breath, exhaustion threaded itself through her limbs and tugged. Eventually she slumped against his chest, happy to let him take all the weight of her. Even then he did not budge.
She was too tired to be angry now.
“Your form is absolute dog shit,” he said, his grip cautiously loosening. “But you have some potential. I could train you, if you wanted.”
“Train me?” With supreme effort, she pulled away from and turned to face him. “Train me in what?”
“Boxing. Mixed martial arts. Basic self defense. You can have your pick.”
“You want to teach me how to fight?” She crossed her arms. “Is this some kind of trap? What’s the catch?”
He raised an eyebrow. “There’s no catch. It would get you in shape, get your mind off things. Give you some sense of control.”
“And then I could use it against you.”
He had the gall to laugh at that, head thrown back. “Not in a million fucking years.”
“You think I could never be a threat to you?” Now she felt insulted. “Is it because I’m a woman?”
Rook rolled his eyes. “The scariest people I’ve ever met have been women. But a few weeks or months of the basics is never going to match years of intensive training. If you ever manage to hit me, it’s because I let you for your pride.”
He held out his hands for her gloves and she pulled them off with surprising reluctance.
“Come on,” he said. “I’ll show you the way back to your room. You need a shower.”
“Thanks,” she said dryly.
But a tiny flicker of gratitude wormed its way through her chest as she followed him back to the elevator. The exercise had cleared her head. She felt soothed, the tightness in her chest dissipated. Rook undoubtedly had ulterior motives for helping her, but he still could have let her drown in her own rage until she did something stupid that he’d gleefully punish her for.
Instead he gave her a much needed outlet.
She didn’t know how to feel about that.
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indieyuugure · 3 days
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I love how you respect Mikey as a character here
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He’s a goofy lil guy and you don’t deny it in the fic, but I appreciate how you allow the writing to actually acknowledge his (conflicted) feelings. He’s not just a one-note comedic relief, he feels like an actual character.
Not to imply he doesn’t have any internal life in the actual show, but based on the admittedly very few episodes I have watched and what I’ve heard from fans, the way he’s portrayed makes me incredibly uncomfortable. That’s why I’m more drawn to fics like yours :)
Also, if Donnie wasn’t dying and they’re not in danger (i.e., in Foot HQ), I 100% bet these two would have a blast just hanging out. They’re adorable here.
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Also also, PS: This update looked so good! It’s so clean and gorgeous! The jump to Clip Studio was absolutely the right choice.
Thank you!
I agree, Mikey is a goofy little dude, but he’s also a person with feelings. It’s definitely easy to forget that when writing him, but I think because he’s such a silly guy, when he says something with a lot of weight, it means something.
I think the show actually covers his true emotions more than some fans would like to blow out of proportion, so I’d highly recommend watching the entirety of the show, I feel that the show’s ability to portray it’s characters gets better over the course of it’s episodes(as is pretty common with tv-shows), but also it’s just a fun show to watch.
Regardless though, I’m flattered to hear you think I do a good job writing the characters as people :] Also yes! Leo and Mikey are such an underrated team! I love writing them on missions together.
And very glad to hear you like the pages. I’m still working out all the settings and stuff to make it look the same as before, but I was thankfully able to get it pretty close 👍 Definitely enjoying using CSP a lot, and the fact that it uses iCloud is such a relief too.
Good question! :]
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the-solar-system52 · 3 days
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TPOH UPDATE THEORY
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TPOH UPDATED AND YOU BETTER BELIEVE I HAVE THEORIES!!
So! Negative talking with the Butterfly definitely did something to him. Maybe he recognised their voice? Or he looked at him directly in their eyes? Some people have proposed the idea that Anxiety blinded Negative, and if that's the case, then I wonder how long the effect will last.
The Butterfly gave him a flashback to his human life, and I'm guessing its one that includes the Butterfly.
Its hard to make out, but we see a human hand extending out, and text that says "WAIT! Don't lea-" (I'm guessing 'don't leave') and "What do you say? We got a deal?"
What's even more interesting, is that RGB didn't get this flashback when he came into contact with the Butterfly. Only Negative did.
This tells us two major things:
The Butterfly used to be a human and they knew Human RGB
2. Negative has access to memories of their life that RGB doesn't
Starting with the first one, I think I'm beginning to figure out just what happened between Butterfly and RGB.
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It all starts with this infamous page. The Butterfly gave RGB a schism, which caused him to get a flashback. In this flashback, he is in a backstage acting room (judging that there's one of those fancy mirrors with the lights on them in the background) and he looks very tired and angry. He then tells whoever he is talking to that he hates them.
I assume that this is RGB talking to whoever the Butterfly used to be.
In the lastest update, the flashback gives off similar vibes. RGB and The Butterfly make a deal, but there is also text ("Don't leave") that implies one of them is backing out of the deal. I'm not exactly sure who is who in this situation though.
Either way, RGB did something that really pissed off the Butterfly enough for them to still be mad at them in The Land of Make Believe.
My assumption is this:
As we know, RGB was an actor. So I'm guessing The Butterfly was either an actor, director, or any professional job that would give them the opportunity to meet RGB.
Just like the Butterfly is trying to partner with Negative in this scene, Human Butterfly had a partnership with Human RGB long ago. I'm not sure what it was, but I'm guessing it was related to acting. (It also could've been romantic. Or both. RGB already has like three partners, I wouldn't put it past him.) But the Butterfly messed something up so badly that is caused RGB to get mad and call off the partnership, which is the scene we see on the "I hate you" page. The Butterfly begged RGB to stay ("Wait! Don't leave.") but he didn't.
This may have led to consequences that ruined the Butterfly's career. Either way, they were so hurt by this that they still resent RGB to this day. I have no clue how The Butterfly made it to The Land of Make Believe, since I don't think they were a hero, but it was probably something to do with how RGB treated them.
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So when The Butterfly asked Negative for a partnership again, not knowing who Negative was, he got a flashback.
The colours that come out of Negative's vents are Red and Yellow, Anger and Anxiety. Both emotions fit perfectly with this situation.
(Or I could be totally wrong. Since I don't know who's who, it could be the BUTTERFLY saying 'I hate you' and RGB saying 'Don't leave.' But I think the first version fits better with the overarching theory I have. So I'll assume RGB is saying 'I hate you' unless proven otherwise.)
Please let me know if anyone has anything to add to this theory! I think I'm really getting close to figuring this stuff out but there's still some stuff I'm confused on.
Onto the second thing!
I've already talked about this a lot in this theory, but I'd like the expand on it a bit. That theory is slightly outdated since now we know The Butterfly doesn't know who Negative is, but I think I was on the right track.
When RGB and Negative split, Negative took some of RGB's memories with him. (That, or whatever memories RGB sold to Time were given to Negative. I haven't decided yet but either way Negative has some of RGB's lost memories.)
Since RGB and Negative used to be a whole person as a human, parts of their personality in the flashbacks are influenced by both RGB and Negative.
More than that, we have visual identifiers as to which personality is being portrayed in these flashbacks!
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When Human RGB's eyes are covered and we see his mouth, it's RGB's memory. Since his TV self has a mouth and no eyes. This means RGB is the one having the flashback and the memory has him displaying more 'RGB-esque' personality traits. Like, in this scene, sleeping on the job and being woken up by a colleague is definitely something I imagine RGB doing, but no so much Negative.
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When Human RGB's mouth is covered and we see his eyes, it's Negative's memory. Since his TV self has an eye and no mouth. In this scene, he is displaying more 'Negative-esque' personality traits. He is being confrontational and cold, and straight up telling someone he hates them. That doesn't sound like something our resident coward RGB would do.
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And to add to this, blue roses show up as this flashback happens. This memory belongs to Negative, but RGB is viewing it because of his schism. And as I've said before, his schisms/gaps are definitely related to Negative.
So when they split, their human memories and personality traits were split up between them.
I really hope I am right, because I LOVE this facial feature detail! The fact we never see his full face at once gives the impression of him not being 'complete' bc he's not! He's literally being split into two people, so his face was split accordingly. Genuinely a genius visual metaphor on Mod's part. And it really makes me wonder if we will see his full face if RGB and Negative ever fuse back together again.
It's something to keep in mind for the next flashback!
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As for the lastest memory, I'm not sure if it's Negative or RGB's, since we don't see their face. It's a possibility it is either a shared memory or RGB's memory that Negative is viewing, which would explain why it messes up Negative so much. And why we see some of RGB's colour return to him.
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And what on earth is happening to Negative here? At first I thought he was going to faint and allow RGB to return, but now I'm not sure. Yes he is disoriented, but I think he'll be sticking around for just a bit longer. The blue roses haven't popped yet, and they tend to do that when he leaves. And I'm hoping he'll get a little more screentime since they still need to escape the house and everything, but I won't jinx it.
And what's with the yellow root in his leg? Those roses are mysterious as fuck, and I wanna find out what they'll do to him. I am still trying to figure out wether Negative completely controls them, or if they kinda have a mind of their own. They could make him stronger or make him weaker. They could charge that static electricity again. They could do something to his gaps. Who knows! But I'll be back next Sunday to figure it out.
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goldenpinof · 1 day
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Is it possible they’re sitting on some domains simply so other people don’t take them and potentially misuse them? They’ve got old videos saying “go to these websites” so it would be awkward if like some evangelical took over dnptour dot com
And I totally agree that having a dedicated Dan And Phil area would be beneficial.
true. and it can also be used in case of another tour.
i think i was running with this website thing and the question "why" was more about "why don't you update it", the links specifically. because one of them isn't working, and 3 to the shops don't have ii there, obviously. thinking about it, by "kill it" i don't mean release it for others to have, but more like, get ii out of there.
you have a good point. i didn't stop to think.
and god the website. imagine having basically a catalogue with links to dnp's projects. so you don't have to search through their social media and youtube descriptions to find something. everything is in one place: pages of and links to the shops, socials, music albums, tours, books on all platforms available, temporary deals like youtooz. i'm probably forgetting something, but imagine having it all listed under the Dan and Phil™. joint and solo stuff. that would make my life so much easier.
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Guidelines
THIS IS AN IMPORTANT NOTICE PLEASE READ!
Hi everyone! If you don't know me, I am The_Ravenclaw_Werewolf, or Raven for short, and I am currently writing the reaction fanfiction Main Character Syndrome (With Exceptions)!
You can find me at Ao3 or here on my Tumblr, but since it's been some time, I felt the need to set some ground rules.
Do not be rude, mean, or anything similar of the sort towards others or to me. I want everyone to have fun here so please treat others with respect!
Please no inappropriate and or offense behavior and or messages! I have been in fandoms long enough to see and know things for reasons outside my control .
ANY FORM OF CEST/PROSHIPPERS DNI. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED!
Those who refuse to follow the guidelines, as stated, will be blocked.
Now with that settled;
I understand that there are readers looking more towards the reaction part of the MCS (WE), or just the story in general, but please bear in mind that this is meant as a hobby, something to do for fun. Which means I may not be putting out chapters as fast as you would like, but I find that the joy of writing is taken away when I get pressured and or questioned about the next chapter. I don’t want to abandon this story so I can only ask that you please do not ask questions about updates and what not because then I feel myself pushing back my writing even further when asked every time.
Next is about my inbox, both on Ao3 and Tumblr. I understand you have questions and or are excited in general and I am really happy to answer and respond to them! But I either get TOO MANY questions or get questions that require me to sit down to write out, which leads me to getting overwhelmed by them, thus turning off both inboxes. And if I get too many questions, I feel the need to answer them FIRST before posting a chapter so this leads to a longer put off of both answering and writing. If you see that my inboxes are turned off, please be respectful and wait until I can turn them back on. I will still answer your questions, just only when I can and or when I am in the proper headspace.
I only ask this because I still want to have fun with this and I want my readers to still have fun as well. But I have a life outside of writing and I must ask to have my boundaries respected and if you can all do that, I would be the most appreciative.
Thank you and enjoy!
Raven
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ourtearsofrain · 1 day
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Slow It Down (D.R.W/S.F.K)- Chapter 1
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Summary: Almost three years after escaping to New York for college, Danny finally returns to Frankenmuth for the summer, welcomed with open arms by all his family and old friends. All but one. With Sam’s apparent hatred of him, Danny must try to get through the summer with him hanging over his life like a storm cloud, darkening each day spent with their families.
Pairings: Danny Wagner x Sam Kiszka
Genre: ANGST, brotherly fluff
Word Count:  1.9k
Warnings: none for this ch? Some shit between Danny and Sam is alluded to but not addressed fully. Also day drinking lol
A/N: I’m so excited to share this new series with y’all, I hope you like it. The series as a whole, as well as specific dialogue/comments/thoughts, are based off a handful of angsty heartbreaking songs that I will post an “unofficial playlist” for, so look for that at the bottom of a masterlist post for this series soon! Make sure to fill out the taglist form in my bio if you want to be tagged in any updates for this or future works! Thanks for reading!
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June 19th, 2020, 5:07 pm.
It had been two years, ten months, and 15 days since Danny had spoken to Sam. Two years, ten months, and 15 days since he had felt fully whole. And two years, ten months, and 15 days full of regret. But who was counting, right?
Danny was. He had begun counting the second he boarded that plane with a one-way ticket out of Frankenmuth, headed straight for “The Big Apple” to start his life over. Away from his family, away from his high school friends and the worst of all, away from Sam. Thankfully Josh had already moved to New York the second he graduated, studying Film Production at Columbia University and practically adopting Danny the second he got there, making sure he was adjusting to the city well and spending as much time with him as their schedules allowed. Coincidentally, Josh’s former roommate had decided to move out right before Danny made the choice to go to New York, leaving the second bedroom of his apartment open for him to fill.
As the distance between Sam and him increased, Danny only became closer to the twins. Even though they had treated him like he was their younger brother ever since he moved in next to the Kiszka’s at age seven, living with Josh who called Jake on facetime every day truly made them the older brothers he had always wished for.
“Can I get you anything, sir?”
Danny removes his forehead from the cool glass of the plane window, turning to see a flight attendant standing expectantly in the isle with a too-sweet smile. “Oh, uh no I’m ok, thanks.”
“Alright then. Just letting you know we should be landing in about 20 minutes, so could you please fasten your seatbelt?”
Danny glances down, realizing he hadn’t re-buckled his belt after he had gone to the bathroom to stretch his legs and pull himself together as his family would surely be waiting for him at the luggage return. “Of course, my bad.” He re-buckles it before leaning his head back against the seat as she walks away, closing his eyes and praying that the next few months of his life would pass quickly.
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Grey suitcase, purple tag. Grey suitcase, purple tag. Grey suitcase, purple tag. Shit, there it is. Danny rushes to grab his bag, feeling claustrophobic as the luggage return fills with more and more people. Go out the door, find the car. Out the door, find the car. Drive home and pray he’s not there. It takes him mere seconds to find his parents’ car as his mom frantically waves from across the lot, grinning as she darts between the traffic the instant she sees Danny.
She tackles him in a hug as she rocks them back and forth, her grip on him crushing as he tries to keep his balance. “Oh my god you look so good, how was Junior year? Have you been eating enough? Getting out and having some fun right?”
“Hey mom.”  He locks his arms around her, hugging her just as tight as he smiles. “It was good, yes I have, and yes I do. You don’t have to worry about me.”
She pulls away teary eyed, still smiling wide at him. “Oh, I know, but that’s my job. And you haven’t been home for so long, how else am I supposed to know how you’re doing?”
“Yeah… sorry about that. You know how it is, between school and work it’s hard to find the time to get back to Michigan for a long visit.”
“Don’t worry about it.” She waves her hand in the air as if she were shooing away his apologies, taking Danny’s suitcase in the other as she leads him to the car. “You’re in college, I get it. You have better things to do than visit us. Like go to parties. And date. Meet any cute girls recently?”
His heart sinks at the question, trying to keep his smile from faltering as they reach her car. “Too busy to try and date right now, mom.” He takes the bag from her, easily sliding it into the trunk as she watches him.
“Bullshit. C’mon, you’re a young, attractive guy. You must have some girls in your lectures throwing themselves at you.”
“You know me, I’m too focused on my studies to pay attention to that. It’s fine, I promise. I’m doing good in New York, living with Josh has been great, I’ve made some good friends. Dating just isn’t at the top of my priorities right now.” He hopes that his explanation will be enough for his mom to drop the topic as they get into the car, her prying being in good intention but only resurfacing old wounds.
“Oh! Speaking of, Karen and Kelly are having a barbeque tonight to celebrate you, Jake and Josh coming home for the summer. Your dad would have come with me to get you but he’s at their place right now helping set up.”
“Great, that’s great. Can’t wait to see everyone again.” Not everyone. Danny tries to keep his mind away from him as he listens to his mom talk throughout the drive, the pit in his stomach only growing as they turn down more and more familiar streets. A small weight lifts off his shoulders when he doesn’t see him in the front yard as they pass the Kiszka’s house, pulling into his childhood home’s driveway, his thoughts louder than his mother’s voice as they get out of the car.
“Danny?”
“Hm?”
“I said, do you want to go settle in and freshen up before you head over?”
“Oh, yeah that’d be great. Sorry, didn’t hear you, must be jetlagged.”
“You’re ok, it’s alright if you need to take a nap before tonight, everyone will completely understand. It took Josh a day to sleep off the travel.”
Danny snorts as he extends the handle of his suitcase, closing the trunk with the other hand. “Yeah, I bet he did. I swear, he gets tired from taking the subway for 15 minutes, can’t imagine him traveling on a plane without at least two naps. Should be alright though, thanks.”
“Of course. Alright, I’m going to go over to the Kiszka’s and let them know you’re here, see if they need any help and all that. The fridge and pantry are stocked up if you need a snack, and your room’s just as you left it.”
“Thanks, mom. Love you, see you in a few.”
“Love you too, Daniel. Don’t take too long.” Her tone is light, joking as she spares a glance behind her to smile before disappearing into the backyard.
It’s just a few hours, it’ll be fine. I can avoid him all night, there should be enough people to do that easily. Just a few hours and then I don’t have to see him all summer. Except he lives next door. And his older brothers are my closest friends and roommate. And our parents are friends. Should be easy to avoid him, right? God, I’m fucking screwed.
The second he reaches his room, he faceplants into his bed, nearly toppling off the edge of the twin after getting accustomed to his queen bed in New York. Rolling onto his back, he finally takes the room in. It was exactly how he left it the last time he visited, unchanged from when he lived there, like everything had frozen in time as he continued on. Everything in his room reminded Danny of a simpler time, of him. Of laying side by side on his too small bed, talking for hours as they stared up at the soft yellow of the Neil Young Harvest poster hung on the ceiling. The old acoustic guitar in the corner they would trade back and forth on his floor for hours now sat dusty and unused. The singe mark on the wood of his windowsill from the time they got too high and let the end of their joint burn out on it. He was everywhere, in everything. Danny could never escape him no matter how far he went, everything always circled back to him. He could grow and change and learn, but Frankenmuth would forever be there to remind him of everything that once was.
Might as well get up and get the party over with instead of sitting here feeling sorry for myself. At the thought, Danny slides off his bed, landing hard on the ground before forcing himself up to find something to change into. After travelling all day, he was eager to get out of his loose jeans and sweatshirt, knowing it was too nice of a day to be comfortable wearing that outside.
He opens his suitcase unenthusiastically, hoping that he had remembered to pack at least one pair of shorts. Thankfully, he had, and he finds his (quite short) yellow shorts and his Howlin’ Wolf muscle tee in no time, changing quickly and slipping into his old, slip on vans before trudging down the stairs and out the front door, heading straight for the Kiszka’s backyard.
“DANNY!” The second he walks through the side gate, Danny only sees the blur of Jake before he slams into him, knocking the wind from his lungs as he loses his footing, falling backwards and pulling Jake down with him.
When he catches his breath, Danny wraps his arms around the other man with a grin as they lay on the soft grass. “Jake! Great to see you, man. Missed you.”
Jake loosens his grip before getting up and offering Danny a hand to pull him up. “Missed you too, it’s been way too long.”
“DANNY!” This time it’s Josh who slams into him, practically jumping into his arms as Danny catches him. “I’ve missed you so much, it’s been way too long since we’ve seen each other.” He fake sobs into his neck, pulling out everything he learned from the years of theater he did in high school to put on his act.
“We live together, Josh. I saw you three days ago.” Danny’s voice is flat, but he can’t help a smile from creeping onto his face as Josh pulls away from him grinning.
“Yeah, I know, but I still missed you.” After Danny makes his rounds of teary hugs with his dad, Karen, and Kelly, he looks around the yard, hating himself for noticing his absence.
“Sam’s inside cutting some watermelon, he’ll be out soon.” Karen says with a smile, picking up on what he was looking for and thinking her comment was helpful.
“Oh, great. That’s great.” They don’t know. He never told them.
“C’mon Danny, Josh and I started day drinking an hour ago, you gotta catch up to us.”
“Jacob!” Karen swats his arm as he passes her, already on his way to start making a drink for Danny.
“What? He’s 21 now, it’s legal.”
Danny’s smile is wiped clean off his face as he hears the back door slide open, turning to see Sam standing frozen in the doorframe with a large bowl of watermelon in his hands. Say something. Say something or it’ll be weird. “Hey Sam.”
Sam’s expression is as flat as his voice when he speaks. “Daniel.”
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taglist: @gretnavannfleet @aioba1503-sdm
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majorproblems77 · 1 day
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Sacred realm, Sacred realm, Sacred realm!!!!!
OH BOY, I AM EXCITED ABOUT THIS ONE
Prepare yourself for the most excited screaming you've ever heard because this update is wonderful and I love it and I'm so excited about it that I'm writing this instead of sleeping and it will be worth it.
Set the clock its 12.45am lets see if I can do this before I have to go to bed for the morning shift.
Alright, now for the important stuff! Sacred realm belongs to @zelda-the-sacred-realm, and all art from the comics belongs to the comic artist. I've got their permission to do these!
Link to the comic can be found here! :D
Now, get some popcorn and if your like me probably an energy drink too and lets goooooo!
Firstly...
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HI
HELLO THERE
OH MY
Big evil big bad. Who's hair is stunning i could never ngl.
(Investigates)
It's awesome to see the black knight like this. (I believe that's right? Correct me if I'm wrong.)
Though im trying to figure out what he found unexpected? Is it Sky? Is Sky the unexpected thing? Good, No body expects the blorbo to come out of the medallion and whoop ass.
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Self-sacrificing boy please you are in pain
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Cinnamon roll link please i know you're not used to this, but he's got this
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He's so damn pretty dammit, pretty boy right here. Hylia chose him for his looks first, 10/10.
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Yesssssssssss
GET THEM! GET IT!
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THE FACT THAT THEY JUMP IN FRONT OF HIM IS GIVING ME SO MUCH LIFE THEY ARE LIKE PROTECTIVE UNCLES OF THE SMALL CINAMON ROLL.
Like low key look how Sky is moving he's pushing towards time but moving more to the right to do so then time is. Which would indicate that he's moved rather quickly to get in front of this thing.
They have to protect the small hero and it gives me life.
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Okay, this all but confirms this isn't the first time they've done this.
Oh and it has to be said
BY THE POWER OF STUBBORN FRIENDSHIP!
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That's a practised spell
(using a few panels from this update here) Chapter 4 - part 1
So, I think that the last time the spirits gathered was sometime around when Twilight was still alive, we know that Time had direct contact with Twilight because of the comic panels in the last update.
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We also know that Time recognised Sky when he first appeared in the last update.
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So there one of two explanations
The medallion or something akin to it has been used in a previous hero's journey. And so some of the spirit already know each other
Or being a spirit grants them foresight that they can just fight with each other like this.
Im more inclined to lean towards the first one at this stage because of that recognition from time but to be honest I think we need to meet Twilight first before we get any answers about that.
I am also going to assume the element that time yields is Electricity (Or time haha.)
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It looks like lightning, but we've also seen him use a time spell so I'm not entirely sure at this stage.
Gonna lean towards lighting tho, it suits him
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YEAH GET HIM!
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He looks so tired, and the lines against him have been growing longer. I assume its more and more of the barrier sucking his energy away.
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Pretty boy alert
i am once again an advocate for the Sky is the Best Bean Club he just needs a nap he's going to be fine
Also, Medalion jails for Sky because he's eepy.
I assume this is how we are going to keep Sky out of this arch, he is too tired and is resting from doing this now. I hope we see you soon blorbo!
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HA
This made me chuckle, Time just grabbing him by the waist like the child he is brings me joy (Im aware Link isn't a child but he is in the cinnamon roll outfit right now so he is a child)
And time is older than him and is at current the only one who can help with the current predicament.
We interupt the end of this post for a Sky appreciation segment because he is the best bean and is my blorbo and got a bunch of great panels this update
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He
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Being the hero
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Jumping into harm's way
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The face of determination
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He
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Sleepy
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Sleepy boy we got sleepy sky and I love him
Okay im done, We shall get back to the end now.
That's everything from me! :D
I hope you enjoyed my rambling please do let me know if you spotted anything I didn't! Thanks for hanging out with me and for uhh, also hanging out as I yell excitedly about my blorbo because, to be honest, I love him and it wouldn't be something from me if I didn't soooo....
Yeah!
Thanks again to the artist for letting me do this! I really appreciate it!
Have a great night!
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touchlikethesun · 3 months
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furudate keeps releasing “interviews” with the hq boys as they grow up and continue their careers like they’re actual famous sports players and he’s just reporting on their life updates, and i hope he never stops. i want new hq gossip mags to keep getting released periodically until the day i die, furudate i love that you are as insane about these boys as we are never change xx
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booasaur · 8 months
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The Morning Show - 3x02
Here at UBA, we pride ourselves on being transparent with all of our viewers. We consider you part of our family. Which is why I need to let you know that certain things may come to light, personal things that were never meant to be shared. While all of our lives are increasingly public, each of us has the right to our privacy. And this network will continue fighting for that right, no matter the cost. UBA as made a decision not to pay the ransom demanded by the individuals who have stolen the private data of thousands of dedicated employees.
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