#joel: lets have a heartfelt moment

[minecraftbookshelf]

Underrated Afterlife SMP moment

Joel (thunder god, thor edition): “You know what Sausage, if you’re ever feeling a little bit lost in this world, you know what you do? You look into the eyes of people you love” *

Joel: looks intently at Lizzie, who notably does not have eyes because she is currently in her enigma origin

Mythical J Sausage (thunder god, zeus edition): slowly scootches sideways so that he is the one in Joel’s line of sight and they are making eye contact.

* Part of his speech is shown from Lizzie’s POV, and you can see the glowing outline around him that indicates she is charging up her heat vision to cause him damage.

Also she traps and kills him ten minutes later

[stylesispunk]

'I love you, it's ruining my life' | Part iv.

Joel Miller x f!reader

previous chapter

Summary: You and Joel have your happy ending. w.c: 6,7k>

warnings: smut (sorry I'm not the best at writing smut), fluff, angst. time jump. Perhaps grammar mistakes because I didn't check grammar. Not the best piece of writing but now my mind is wandering on another story.

a/n: Part 4 and last one is here! Thank you so much for all the love you gave to this one, I'm really happy you loved it despite the messy writing. I may write for these two to clarify some things, or some details of their lives after this ending. If you have a suggestion, question, or want to talk to me, you can come to my dms or ask! Happy reading 💌 dividers by @/saradika-graphics

"I promise, I'll do everything I can to make this right," he said softly, his thumbs gently caressing your cheek.

You nodded, a tear escaping down your cheek as you smiled up at him. "I believe you, Joel. And I want to try too. I want us to be together.

He pulled you into another embrace, his arms wrapping around you securely. "We will," he whispered into your hair. "We'll take it one day at a time, but we'll do it together."

For a while, you simply held each other, finding solace in the closeness. Eventually, you led Joel to the couch, where you both sat down, still reluctant to let go.

"I've missed you so much," you admitted, leaning to kiss his cheek. "Every day felt incomplete without you."

"I missed you too," he replied, his voice tender. "Every day I thought about you, regretting the decisions I made that pushed you away." Joel smiled—a genuine, heartfelt smile that made your heart swell. "Agreed," he said. "We'll make it right this time." He said, capturing your lips with a feverish kiss.

As Joel's lips met yours in a feverish kiss, a rush of emotions swept over you. It was a kiss filled with longing, passion, and the promise of a new beginning. In that moment, all the pain and heartache of the past seemed to fade away, replaced by the warmth and intensity of Joel's love.

You melted into the kiss, savoring the feeling of his lips against yours and the taste of his love filling your senses. It was a kiss that spoke volumes, conveying a silent vow to make things right and to never let go of each other again.

As you pulled away, breathless and flushed with emotion, you looked into Joel's eyes and saw a reflection of your own feelings mirrored back at you. He clutched your hips and pushed you against the door, shutting your mouth with his own for a hungrier kiss as if he wanted to devour you right here. Your fingers tangled into his dark locks, and he seemed to enjoy it because he released a heavy groan into your mouth, and you drank all those heavenly sounds with pleasure.

“I’m just gonna eat you,” he said, laughing, biting your bottom lip as you laughed lowly.

“That’s what I’m waiting for” you replied.

Both of you were out of breath as he cupped your face and brushed his thumbs against your cheeks like he was the most delicate thing he’d ever held.

Everything happened so quickly that neither of you realized how you'd gotten rid of your clothes, but you missed each other too much to even consider how this might have happened. He held you up against the wall, both of your legs wrapped around his waist so he could thrust fast into you while biting onto your collarbone. you were now moaning. Your head tossed back, and your nails left clear lines of red on his bare back, but this only fueled him, allowing him to pound his hips with greater urgency.

His hands were strong, but his touch was gentle. It was all over you including her face, chest, heart, and mind fantasies.

He was everywhere. You were battling to breathe while simultaneously feeling extremely lively. His fingertips touched your hot flesh, grazing with flames. Even as you burned, you clung to him like he was your lifeline.

He grasped your waist and continued to rock into you. The sound of your name slipped through his lips, mingled in with the groans and nasty words that made your cheeks flush and your eyes roll in delight. But in between the passion and filth, he expressed how much he loved and missed you.

You tried not to pay attention to those words as you tossed your head back, gasping for air, feeling your climax grow so close that your body began shaking against his. Your thoughts quickly went blank, and your toes curled as you shouted out his name, feeling his release not long after you ended. His thrust became sluggish and slow. It wasn't until he stopped that you fell back into reality.

He kissed the corner of your lips tenderly once you both had regained your breathing pace. He opened his eyes to yours. The gentleness of those brown eyes left a lump in your throat as he walked you over to your bedroom to lay you down on your bed.

“I love you so fucking much.”

Those words came again. He sounded out of breath when he spoke, and the raspiness of his voice sent a shiver down your spine.

“I love you,” he mumbled again, this time crashing his lips with yours for what felt like a thousandth time. You then lifted your leg to his hips as you reached down to take him in your palm, and that sudden movement made his breath hitch.

He closed his eyes and buried his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent, as if it could serve as a reminder that you were now each other's half.

He began caressing your breasts while inhaling fiercely into your exposed shoulder, dragging his hands down your hips to your stomach. You scorched your back, moaning his name, and he felt like he was going insane at the sight of you under his gaze, like this. His body between your legs offered him easier access to the image he wanted to keep in his thoughts every day.

Your breath caught in your throat as you felt his finger go down your body to the spot you wanted him the most. You were soaked, and he lost control of the sensation of you gripping around his digits. He attached your lips, groaning into the kiss, and began pumping his fingers, gradually increasing the pace as well. You had your hand behind his neck, panting for air but maintaining eye contact, watching him go insane at the sight of you.

"Joel, I…"

"I know baby… I know…" He breathed into your mouth and pulled out his fingers, causing you to gasp at the loss of his touch. In a short second, he managed to go down and kiss every single inch of kissing every inch of your body, till he reached your tights and placed his tongue on your core. You moaned loudly, arching your back and slowly moving your hips into Joel's tongue.

The bedroom swiftly became crowded with your moans and Joel's tongue lapping at your drenched pussy. He groaned beneath you.

Your fingers grasped his hair locks

"Good girl," he replied.

"Fuck! I'm.." You stuttered. He accelerated his rhythm and sucked as if it were his favorite thing in the world.

Soon after, you came. He licked you clean before slowly licking his way back up your body. Until your lips met in a wet kiss.

"You're my favorite person," he replied, a satisfied smile falling off his lips. He lay next to you in bed, and you both glanced at each other.

"Let's do it again sometime?" You made a joke.

"Why not now?" He asked.

You let him kiss you again, and your hands traveled to his neck once again.

Waking up next to Joel felt strange, not for the wrong reasons or the rust that had grown between you after a year of no communication, but because this time you allowed yourself to be his. The vulnerability was both exhilarating and terrifying.

The smell of his cologne lingered on your pillow, a comforting reminder of his presence. You reached out to touch the space where he had been, but the warmth was fading. Fear crept within your body, a gnawing anxiety that whispered, "What if he regretted and left?"

Your heart pounded as you sat up, scanning the room for any sign of him. Panic began to settle in until you heard the faint clinking of dishes from the kitchen. You slid out of bed, the cool floor beneath your feet grounding you as you made your way towards the sound.

In the kitchen, Joel stood by the stove, his back to you, humming softly as he cooked breakfast. Relief washed over you, bringing tears to your eyes. He hadn’t left.

There he was, only in a pair of jeans, in the middle of your kitchen, preparing breakfast for the both of you.

He turned, a smile breaking across his face, when he saw you. "Morning, baby," he said, his voice warm and inviting. "I thought I’d make us some breakfast."

You walked up to him, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind and resting your cheek against his back. "I was scared you’d gone," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Joel turned in your arms, pulling you into a tight embrace. "I’m not going anywhere," he said firmly, tilting your chin up to look into your eyes. "I’m here”

Do you think I am a bad person?" You asked, your voice muffled as you hid your face against his neck.

Joel's body stiffened, and he gently pulled back to scan your face, his expression a mix of confusion and concern. "Wha—oh my god, what are you talking about?" he asked, his eyes searching yours for understanding.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady the emotions swirling inside you. "I mean, we both did things. Tess, my boyfriend...”

Joel shook his head, his grip on you tightening. "You did nothing wrong," he interrupted firmly, his voice leaving no room for doubt. "We were both trying to navigate a difficult situation, and we made mistakes, but that doesn't make you a bad person."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you looked at him, his unwavering support and love bringing a sense of relief you hadn't felt in a long time. "I just... I feel so guilty," you admitted, your voice cracking. "For hurting others, for leaving you without a proper goodbye.” You paused for a moment. “I wasted a whole year, Joel.”

Joel’s gaze softened even more, and he pulled you into a tighter embrace. “You didn’t waste anything,” he said, his voice filled with conviction. “We both needed that time to understand what we truly wanted and to realize how much we meant to each other. That year apart was hard, but it brought us here to this moment.”

You sniffled, burying your face in his shoulder. “But it hurts knowing I left like that. I should have stayed and fought for us.”

He gently lifted your chin, forcing you to look into his eyes. “Hey, don’t beat yourself up over it. We both made mistakes. But what matters now is that we’re here, together, and we have the chance to make things right. We can’t change the past, but we can shape our future.”

You nodded, the tears slowing as you felt a sense of peace wash over you. “I want that, Joel. I want to build a future with you.”

Joel smiled, his eyes shining with a mixture of relief and love. “Me too,” he said softly. “And we’ll do it, one step at a time, together.”

You leaned in, capturing his lips in a tender kiss, sealing the promise of a new beginning. As you pulled back, you rested your forehead against his, feeling the steady rhythm of his breath match your own.

“Thank you,” you whispered, the weight of your guilt and fear beginning to lift. “For loving me,” you said, your voice steady and free from the guilt and fear that had once plagued you.

Joel's eyes softened, and his expression filled with warmth and understanding. “Always,” he replied, his voice a gentle promise. “Loving you is the easiest thing I’ve ever done.”

You both stayed silent for a while, savoring the closeness and the unspoken bond that had grown even stronger through your trials. The sun began to rise, casting a soft, golden glow into the room, and with it, a new day began—a day filled with hope and the promise of a love that could weather any storm.

As you nestled closer to Joel, you felt his arms tighten around you protectively. “Can you go back to bed, please?” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin.

You chuckled. “Why?”

“I actually planned to bring you breakfast in bed, and you kind of ruined my surprise,” he said humorously, a playful glint in his eyes.

A warm, genuine laugh bubbled up from within you. “Oh, did I now? I guess I can pretend to be asleep,” you teased, your smile widening.

Joel grinned, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “That’s the spirit. Now, back under the covers, and no peeking.”

You playfully rolled your eyes but complied, snuggling back into the warm bed. “I’m not peeking, promise,” you called out, feigning a yawn for good measure.

Joel kissed your forehead before slipping out of the room. You lay there, a smile lingering on your lips, feeling a sense of joy and contentment you hadn’t felt in a long time.

A short while later, you heard the sounds of clinking dishes, the faint aroma of coffee, and something delicious wafting from the kitchen. You closed your eyes, savoring the moment, knowing that this was just the beginning of a new chapter for both of you.

Finally, you felt the bed dip slightly as Joel returned, a tray in his hands. “Breakfast is served,” he announced softly.

You opened your eyes to see him setting a tray laden with pancakes, fresh fruit, and coffee on the bed. Your heart swelled with affection as you took in the sight.

“This looks amazing, Joel,” you said, reaching for his hand.

He sat down beside you, a contented smile on his face. “This is only the first breakfast of the million I’ll give to you.”

Three years later, Joel and you were happily married, living a life filled with love, laughter, and countless shared memories. On the morning of Joel's 35th birthday, he woke up around 5 a.m., immediately noticing your absence. The usual warmth of your presence beside him was missing, and concern tugged at his heart.

He sat up, rubbing his eyes, and listened. The faint sound of retching came from the bathroom. Alarmed, he quickly got out of bed and headed towards the sound. He found you kneeling in front of the toilet, your face pale and sweaty.

"Hey, what's going on?" Joel asked, his voice filled with concern as he kneeled beside you.

You looked up at him with a weak smile, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. "Happy birthday," you said softly, trying to inject some cheer into your voice despite feeling miserable.

Joel frowned, his worry deepening.

Joel’s concern didn't waver. “Then can you go back to bed and rest?” he pleaded.

You shook your head. “No, I should start getting ready for work.”

Joel's brow furrowed with worry and frustration. “Can you find a substitute?”

“Sure, at 5 a.m.,” you replied with a weak chuckle.

Joel sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Please, just try to rest a little longer. We can figure out work later.”

You nodded, feeling the exhaustion creep over you. “Okay, I’ll lay down for a bit.”

Joel helped you to your feet and guided you back to the bed, tucking you in gently. He kissed your forehead, his worry evident but tempered by the love in his eyes. “I’ll make you some tea,” he said softly.

As you lay back down, you watched Joel move around the room, his concern for you touching your heart. Despite feeling miserable, you couldn’t help but feel grateful for his unwavering support. “Thank you,” you whispered.

Joel turned to you, his eyes softening. “Anything for you,” he replied.

Later that morning, you both woke up to the sound of Sarah yelling from downstairs. “Dad! Breakfast is ready! Come on, it's your birthday!” Her voice carried a mix of excitement and impatience.

Joel stirred beside you, groaning slightly as he rubbed his eyes. “Guess we better get up,” he said, his voice still heavy with sleep.

You bolted upright, suddenly alarmed. “Oh my God, I’m late for work!” You scrambled out of bed, panic setting in as you realized how much time had passed.

Joel reached out, grabbing your arm gently. “Hey, take it easy. You’re not feeling well, remember? Just call in sick today.”

You hesitated, your mind racing with the thought of your responsibilities. But Joel's steady gaze and calming presence made you pause. “I wish I could, but I can’t; I don’t have a substitute.”

Joel sighed, understanding the weight of your responsibilities but still worried about your health. "I know it's tough, but your health is more important right now. You can't take care of others if you're not taking care of yourself."

You bit your lip, torn between your sense of duty and Joel's concern. Finally, you nodded reluctantly. "Okay, I'll call in and explain. Maybe they can find someone to cover for me."

Joel smiled, relieved. "Good. Let's go downstairs and have breakfast with Sarah first, then you can make that call."

You both got out of bed and made your way downstairs, where Sarah was already seated at the table, beaming with pride over the breakfast she had prepared.

"Happy birthday, Dad!" Sarah exclaimed, bouncing in her seat. "I made your favorite!"

The smell of pancakes and bacon filled the air, making you twist and feel nauseous. Before you even realized it, you ran towards the bathroom.

Joel's eyes widened in concern as he watched you bolt towards the bathroom. He quickly turned to Sarah, giving her a reassuring smile. "Hey, sweetie, can you wait here for a minute? I'll be right back."

Sarah nodded, her excitement dampened by worry. "Is she okay? But she loves the pancakes I make."

"She does," Joel said, trying to sound confident. "Just stay here and enjoy breakfast for now, okay?"

He hurried to the bathroom, finding you hunched over the toilet, retching. He kneeled beside you, rubbing your back soothingly. "Hey, it's okay. Just breathe."

You gasped, trying to catch your breath between bouts of nausea. "I'm sorry, Joel. I don’t know what’s wrong with me this morning.”

Joel shook his head, his voice gentle but firm. "Nothing is wrong. Just rest, okay?"

After a few minutes, the nausea subsided, and you leaned back against the cool bathroom tiles, exhausted. Joel handed you a glass of water, and you took a few sips gratefully.

"I really think I wasn’t able to go to school” you admitted, your voice shaky. "But I feel so guilty."

Joel brushed a strand of hair from your face. "Don't. You need to rest and take care of yourself. I'll explain things to Sarah.”

You nodded, feeling the weight of exhaustion pressing down on you. "Okay.”

Joel helped you to your feet, and you slowly made your way back to the bedroom, where you sat on the edge of the bed while Joel returned to the kitchen to talk to Sarah.

"Hey, kiddo," he said, sitting down beside her. "Mom's not feeling well, so she needs to rest today.”

“I could stay to take care of her, you know?”

“Oh no. You’re not missing school lady”

Sarah looked a bit disappointed but nodded in understanding. "Okay, Dad. I just hope she feels better soon."

Joel smiled at her. "She will, thanks to your great breakfast. Now, finish up and get ready for school."

As Sarah ate her breakfast, the front door opened, and Tommy walked in, carrying a bag of groceries. "Morning, everyone!" he called out cheerfully. But his smile faded as he noticed the tension in the room. "What's going on? Is everything okay?"

Joel stood up, walking over to his brother. "Hey, Tommy, missus is not feeling well this morning."

Tommy's concern was immediate. "Is she okay? Do you need me to take Sarah to school?"

Joel shook his head. "As much as I would love to stay, we need to work Tommy “

Tommy set the groceries on the kitchen counter and turned to Sarah, giving her a warm smile. "Alright, kiddo, grab your stuff. We need to go."

Sarah beamed.

Joel watched them for a moment. He then made his way back to the bedroom, where you were lying down, looking pale but resting.

"Hey, Tommy arrived. We’re leaving” Joel said softly, sitting down beside you.

You nodded. "Okay”

Joel took your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Just rest now. Call me if you need anything”

As you closed your eyes, Joel stayed by your side. A short while later, the door creaked open again, and Joel looked up to see Tommy poking his head in. "Hey, everything okay in here?"

Joel nodded. "Yeah, she's resting.”

Tommy stepped into the room; his expression serious but supportive. "Anytime. Does she need anything else? I can stick around, run errands, whatever you need."

Joel shook his head, grateful for his brother's offer. "We're good for now. Just knowing you're around is enough."

Tommy smiled. "Alright. Let’s go”

As Tommy left the room, Joel turned his attention back to you. He brushed a strand of hair from your face, watching as you slowly drifted off to sleep.

Joel lingered by your side for a moment, his hand gently caressing your hair. He pressed a soft kiss on your forehead, whispering, "Bye, love. Get some rest." He stood up, quietly exiting the room to give you the peace and quiet you needed.

In the kitchen, Tommy was waiting, leaning against the counter. "You sure you’re, okay?" he asked, his concern evident in his voice.

Joel nodded, though he still looked worried. "Yeah, just trying to keep everything together. Let’s go.”

In the afternoon, you and Joel found yourselves at the supermarket, browsing the aisles to pick up a few things for his birthday. You had insisted you were feeling better, but Joel remained cautious, frequently reminding you to take things slow.

"How about we get some of that fancy cheese you like?" Joel suggested steering the cart towards the dairy section.

You smiled, appreciating his thoughtfulness. "Sure, that sounds great."

As you turned the corner into the produce aisle, you suddenly came face-to-face with Tess. She looked as surprised to see you as you were to see her.

Tess's eyes widened in surprise as she spotted you and Joel, her gaze flickering between the two of you. She was holding a child in her arms, and for a moment, you felt a pang of insecurity as you noticed how fondly Joel was looking at the little one.

"Hey," Tess said, her voice tinged with awkwardness. "I didn't expect to run into you guys here."

You forced a smile, trying to mask your own discomfort. "Yeah, same here. How have you been?"

"I've been good," Tess replied, her smile genuine as she glanced down at the child in her arms. "This is Max, my son."

You couldn't help but notice how Joel's expression softened as he looked at the child. It made you wonder—had you and Joel ever talked about having children? Or how you ruined his chance of having children with Tess when you decided to confess your feelings those years ago.

Tess continued, oblivious to your inner turmoil. "I have been in a relationship for 2 years now," she added, almost as an afterthought. "Things have been going really well."

You nodded, trying to keep your composure. "That's great to hear."

Joel spoke up, his voice warm, as he addressed Tess. "Congratulations. I'm happy for you."

“I see you are still pretty close friends,” she said. A hint of venom taunted you as she looked at you, then back at Joel.

Joel's expression remained composed as he reached for your hand, responding to Tess's remark. "Actually, we are married.”

Tess's eyes widened in surprise, and you could see a flash of disbelief cross her face before she quickly composed herself. "Oh, I see," she said, her tone masking any hint of her true feelings. "Congratulations."

You felt a surge of relief knowing that Joel had made it clear that you two were more than just friends. But the mention of Tess's son and her long-term relationship stirred up a mix of emotions within you.

Joel glanced at you, silently communicating his support, before turning back to Tess. "It's been good running into you, Tess. Take care."

With that, Joel steered the cart away, leaving Tess behind in the aisle. You followed silently, feeling a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions swirling inside you. It was clear that seeing Tess and her son had brought up some unresolved feelings and questions, ones that you knew you needed to address with Joel.

The children, how could life have been if you hadn’t told Joel you loved him that night?

As you both walked back home in silence, Joel couldn't help but notice the weight of your silence. He glanced at you from time to time, concern etched in his features.

"Hey," he said softly, breaking the silence between you. "Are you okay?"

You looked up, meeting his gaze, and forced a small smile. "Yeah, I'm fine," you replied, though the tension in your voice betrayed your true feelings.

Joel stopped walking, turning to face you fully. "You don't seem fine," he said gently, reaching out to brush a stray strand of hair from your face. "Is something wrong with you? Are you feeling nauseous"

“Are you sure?” he asked, once again.

“Yes.”

The evening was filled with laughter and chatter as friends and family gathered in your cozy living room. It was a celebration for Joel's birthday. The room was adorned with balloons, and the air was filled with the aroma of home-cooked food and the clinking of glasses.

Everyone seemed to be having a wonderful time, catching up with one another, and sharing stories from years past. But amidst the joyous atmosphere, you couldn't shake the feeling of being lost in your own thoughts.

As you moved from group to group, exchanging polite smiles and engaging in light conversation, your mind kept drifting back to the conversation you had with Joel earlier that day. The mention of children had opened a floodgate of emotions, leaving you feeling uncertain and apprehensive about the future.

You tried to push aside your worries and focus on the festivities, but with each passing moment, the weight of your thoughts grew heavier. You felt like an outsider, disconnected from the joy and camaraderie that filled the room.

Amidst the laughter and merriment, you found yourself retreating into the corners of your mind, grappling with the decisions that lay ahead. Would you and Joel be able to find common ground on such a significant issue? And what would your future look like if you couldn't?

As the evening wore on, you excused yourself from the lively gathering, needing a moment alone to collect your thoughts. You slipped away to the quiet solitude of your bedroom, hoping to find clarity amidst the chaos of your mind.

As the night wore on, Joel couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss. Despite the lively atmosphere downstairs, a sense of unease gnawed at him, fueled by the memory of your quiet demeanor earlier in the day.

Excusing himself from the gathering, Joel made his way upstairs, a nagging worry tugging at his heart. He checked each room, calling out your name in a hushed tone, but there was no response.

Finally, he reached the bedroom and found the door slightly ajar. Pushing it open gently, he stepped inside, his eyes scanning the room for any sign of you.

There, in the dim light filtering through the curtains, he spotted you sitting on the edge of the bed, your expression pensive and distant. Concern flooded Joel's heart as he approached you quietly, careful not to startle you.

"Hey," he said softly, his voice filled with warmth and concern. "Are you okay?"

You looked up at him, your eyes reflecting the turmoil within. "I'm fine," you replied, but the tightness in your voice betrayed your words.

Joel moved closer, taking a seat beside you and reaching out to gently grasp your hand. "You don't seem fine," he said gently. "Is there something on your mind?"

For a moment, you hesitated, the weight of your thoughts pressing down on you. But then, as you met Joel's gaze, you felt a sense of reassurance wash over you. You knew that no matter what you were facing, you didn't have to face it alone.

"I've just been thinking," you began, your voice wavering slightly. "About us and our future."

“Oh, please don’t tell me you want a divorce on my birthday.” He said this, lifting his hand to his chest.

You chuckled.

You shook your head, a small smile playing on your lips as you reached out to cup Joel's cheek. "No, not at all," you reassured him, your voice softening. "I was just... reflecting, you know?"

Joel's expression softened; a hint of relief was evident in his eyes. "Reflecting on what?" he asked, his voice gentle.

"On everything," you replied, your gaze searching his. “I mean, we ran into Tess today, and I couldn’t help but imagine that I stopped you from having a big family.” You paused. “What if I can’t have children, or what if you don’t want to have them with me?”

Joel's expression softened further; his eyes filled with understanding as he listened to your concerns. He reached out, gently caressing your cheek with his thumb. "Hey, listen to me," he said softly. "I understand why you're feeling this way, but I need you to know something."

You looked at him, your heart racing with anticipation of his words.

"I love you and Sarah more than anything in this world," Joel continued, his voice filled with sincerity. "And while I may have imagined a different path for us at one point, what truly matters to me is being with you, no matter what."

Tears welled up in your eyes as his words washed over you, soothing your fears and uncertainties.

"I don't care about having a big family or whether we can have children," Joel said, his gaze never leaving yours. "All I care about is building a life with you.”

You felt a weight lift off your shoulders and a sense of peace settle over you as you realized that Joel's love for you transcended any external expectations or desires.

"I love you, Joel," you whispered, your voice filled with gratitude.

"And I love you, more than you'll ever know," he replied, pulling you into a warm embrace as he cupped your face on his hands. “And if you want a baby, let’s make one right now, and I’ll send all these people away,” he leaned, kissing you softly.

"I love you too," you murmured against his lips, savoring the warmth of his embrace.

The idea of starting a family together filled you with excitement and anticipation. With Joel by your side, you felt ready to embrace whatever the future held, knowing that together you could overcome any challenges and celebrate life's greatest joys.

With a playful grin, you leaned in to meet Joel's kiss, feeling a surge of happiness coursing through you, but the smell of alcohol on his lips made you stand up and run to the bathroom, once again to throw up.

Joel's concern was evident as he followed you to the bathroom, his brow furrowed with worry. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice laced with concern as he kneeled beside you.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself as the nausea subsided. "I don't know," you admitted, feeling a sense of unease settle over you. "I've been feeling off lately, and this just... I don't know what's wrong."

Joel reached out, gently rubbing your back in a soothing gesture. "Maybe you're coming down with something," he suggested, though his tone betrayed his uncertainty.

You nodded, trying to push aside the nagging suspicion that had been growing in the back of your mind. "Maybe," you agreed softly, though deep down, you couldn't shake the feeling that something more significant was going on.

As Joel looked at you, concern etched into his features, he couldn't help but notice a certain glow on your face. It was subtle, but unmistakable—a radiance that seemed to emanate from deep within.

A thought began to form in Joel's mind, one that he couldn't quite shake. What if...?

His heart skipped a beat as he considered the possibility. Could you be pregnant?

The idea sent a surge of excitement coursing through him, mingled with a hint of apprehension. He knew that starting a family was something you both had talked about, but the idea of actually becoming parents was both thrilling and terrifying.

But as he looked at you, his mind flooded with images of a future filled with laughter, love, and the pitter-patter of tiny feet. And suddenly, the uncertainty faded away, replaced by a deep sense of hope and anticipation.

Taking a deep breath, Joel pushed aside his doubts and fears, focusing instead on the overwhelming love he felt for you and the possibility of a new life growing within you. He knew that whatever the future held, as long as you were by his side, he was ready to face it with open arms.

With a tender smile, Joel reached out, gently cupping your face in his hands. "Hey," he said softly, his voice filled with a mixture of excitement and nervousness. "I know this might sound crazy, but... what if you're pregnant?"

Your breath caught in your throat at Joel's words, the possibility hanging in the air between you. For a moment, you were speechless, the weight of the idea sinking in.

"Pregnant?" you echoed, your voice barely above a whisper.

Joel nodded, his eyes searching yours for any sign of confirmation. "Yeah," he said, his voice tinged with hope. "I mean, it's just a thought, but... you've been feeling off lately, and the way you've been glowing... I don't know; it just got me thinking."

You took a moment to process his words; the reality of the situation was slowly sinking in. The idea of being pregnant fills you with a mix of excitement and uncertainty. It was something you had hoped for and dreamed about, but now that it might actually be happening, it felt almost surreal.

“Let’s go to the pharmacy.”

“What?! Now?” you asked, widening your eyes.

“Let’s buy a test; consider it a birthday present,” he said, already walking out of the bedroom, but you grabbed his wrist.

“But what if it comes negative?” You asked; fear was already creeping in.

Joel turned back to you, his expression softening with understanding. "Then we'll try again," he said, his voice gentle. "We'll keep trying until we get the result we want. But right now, let's just take the first step and see what happens."

He grabbed your face delicately. “And if you think I’m scared for what happened before... I know Sandy will protect you from above because you loved Sarah as if you were her mother, and I will not lose you, never.”

His words filled you with a sense of reassurance, and you nodded, feeling a surge of determination washed over you. "Okay," you said, your voice filled with resolve. "Let's do it."

The party was still in full swing when you and Joel returned, the sound of laughter and chatter filling the air. Tommy spotted you both entering and quickly made his way over, a curious expression on his face.

"What's going on with you two?" he asked, his brow furrowing with concern.

You exchanged a quick glance with Joel, the excitement and nerves bubbling up inside you. "We'll tell you later," Joel replied with a grin, his eyes twinkling with anticipation.

Before Tommy could press further, you grabbed Joel's hand and gave him a knowing look. "Let's go," you whispered, your heart pounding with anticipation.

With a shared smile, you and Joel hurried upstairs, the excitement building with each step. As you reached the bedroom, Joel wasted no time in tearing open the packaging of the pregnancy test, his hands trembling slightly with anticipation.

You followed suit, your heart racing as you carefully followed the instructions on the box. With bated breath, you both waited for the results; the tension in the air was almost palpable.

And then, finally, the moment of truth arrived. As you stared down at the test in your hands, your heart skipped a beat. Could it be? Was this really happening?

You exchanged a hopeful glance with Joel, his eyes shining with anticipation. With shaking hands, you picked up the test and examined the result.

“I can’t watch,” you said, pacing back and forth.

As you paced back and forth, the tension in the room palpable, Joel reached out, gently grasping your hand to offer you reassurance. "It's going to be okay," he said softly, his voice filled with confidence. "No matter what the result is, we'll face it together."

You nodded, trying to steady your trembling hands as you continued to stare at the test in your grasp. With a deep breath, you finally mustered the courage to look at the result.

And there it was—the moment you had been waiting for—the positive sign you had hoped for. Tears of joy welled up in your eyes as you looked up at Joel, your heart overflowing with emotion.

Joel's eyes lit up with joy as he pulled you into a tight embrace, his arms wrapping around you protectively. "I can't believe it," he murmured, his voice filled with wonder. "We're going to have a baby. My baby is having a baby”

Feeling overwhelmed with emotion, you melted into Joel's embrace, your heart swelling with love and gratitude. "Our baby," you whispered, your voice choked with tears of happiness. "We're going to be parents."

Joel held you close, his touch gentle yet reassuring. "I couldn't be happier," he said, his voice filled with awe and wonder. "This is the best birthday gift I could ever ask for."

As you and Joel stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, the sound of knocking on the door broke the moment of quiet intimacy. You exchanged a glance with Joel, both of you momentarily lost in your own thoughts, before realizing that Tommy and Sarah must be looking for Joel to sing happy birthday.

Joel gently released you from his embrace, his eyes still filled with wonder and excitement. "I'll go get the door," he said softly, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead before making his way to the door.

You took a deep breath, wiping away the tears that still lingered on your cheeks as you tried to compose yourself. The news of your pregnancy still felt surreal, but the joy and happiness it brought were undeniable.

As Joel opened the door, Tommy's and Sarah's voices filled the room with cheerful birthday wishes. But their smiles faded as they took in the sight of you and Joel standing together with tears in your eyes.

"Hey, what's going on?" Tommy asked, concern etched in his voice as he glanced between you and Joel.

Joel's smile widened, unable to contain his excitement any longer. “We have some news," he said, his voice trembling with emotion. "We're going to have a baby."

As Joel's words hung in the air, the room seemed to hold its breath. You watched as Tommy and Sarah's expressions shifted from confusion to realization, their eyes widening with disbelief and joy.

"We're going to have a baby," Joel repeated, his voice thick with emotion as he reached out to take your hand, squeezing it tightly.

Tears welled up in Sarah's eyes as she let out a gasp of joy, her hand flying to her mouth in shock. "Oh my God," she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. "That's incredible!"

Tommy's eyes sparkled with excitement as he pulled both of you into a tight embrace, and his voice choked with emotion. "Congratulations, you two. This is amazing news."

In that moment, surrounded by the love and support of your family, the reality of the situation hit you like a wave. You were going to be parents—a thought that filled you with a profound sense of gratitude and awe.

Loving Joel didn’t ruin your life.

With tears streaming down your cheeks, you exchanged tearful hugs with Tommy and Sarah, feeling overwhelmed with joy and gratitude. This was the beginning of a new chapter in your lives, and you couldn't wait to embark on this journey together, hand in hand, with the love of your life by your side.

taglist 💌: @immywonderdefender @sarahhxx03 @powellssaturn @ifall4dilfs @harriedandharassed @skysmiller @missladym1981 @brittmb115 @guelyury @heartpascalispunk @ashleyfilm @loveisacowboyyy @southernbe @pedrolom @maryfanson @neganbestie

[notjoelmiller]

see you on the other side

MDNI

joel miller x reader summary: You're drifting from Joel, but you promise him you won't leave Boston. Even as things get worse. wordcount: 3k warnings: smut (p-in-v, m-receiving oral), angst, death (non-major characters), violence, injury, mention of alcohol and painkiller consumption a/n: no spoilers as long as you've seen ep1. hope you enjoy <3

Joel never liked Boston. He visited as a boy then again with Sarah. Both times he came to the same conclusion: Texas was home.

Now Boston’s home. Not by choice, certainly. Tommy wanted security and community. He had a pipe dream about a sense of normalcy like before and somehow convinced Joel that a quarantine zone would be worth the trouble.

It was, like Joel predicted, not worth it. 

Add on top of it the chilly winters and gray skies, Joel wanted to up and leave.

You moved in a year after them, in the next door unit in the designated “childless” apartment building– more like a barracks. 

Tommy tried flirting with you the moment he laid eyes on you. Joel was there– standing behind him and rolling his eyes so hard that he nearly missed the way your eyes flickered to his figure in curiosity. Dejected by your rejection, Tommy slips into Joel’s place too soon to notice the bashful smiles you two exchange.

Within a month, a picture of you and him sits on Joel’s fridge.

****

Tommy joins the Fireflies a year after you move in with Joel. Joel can’t understand why. He spends the better part of that winter tormented by migraines as he tries to understand where he went wrong. He hasn’t spoken to his brother in the better part of the season.

He worries for Tommy. He convinces himself that his brother has gone off on a suicide mission. He chest tightens with each step into the town square, convinced his brother’s body will be hanging. Dread of the possibility that he’s spoken his last words to Tommy looms over Joel’s head.

You’re less worried than Joel. You actually talk to Tommy, truly listen to his side of the story without letting rage take over. You become Tommy’s advocate. The Miller’s middleman.

He’s not stupid Joel. You know that.

Try sayin’ that when he gets his neck snapped by FEDRA.

Joel handles his anger– his premature grief –better than most people these days. He talks to you when things get bad, vents until he runs out of energy to talk. It’s usually those nights, when he’s loosened by frustration (and some whiskey), that you have your longest, most heartfelt conversations with the man. It’s during those conversations that your relationship progresses the most, albeit baby steps. They include the nights when he asked you to move in, first told you he cares about you, and told you about his daughter.

You distract him. He spends less time draining his decanter in favor of drowning his woes into you. He wakes you up at night, when the thoughts get too much for him, with a hand trailing up your side and his mouth on your neck.

He takes it slow those nights, on your sides and him behind you. He whispers to you, words emphasized by the slow pistoning of his hips. He thanks you, praises you. He begs you not to leave.

Afterwards, with his seed drying on your skin, his arm tossed over your still-clothed chest, you always tell him you love him. He never says it back.

****

The first time you sneak out, you confess immediately afterwards. Tommy needed help with a job, not for the Fireflies, but one he didn’t trust Joel to act hospitable enough for. You leave in the blanket of night and return before curfew ends, unscathed, but with a look of guilt in your eyes.

The next time you sneak out, you spare the details. Tommy had a job, you say. There’s less guilt in your eyes, especially when you tuck a thick pile of ration cards into the stash.

After the third night you sneak out, Joel accepts it as a routine. He knows not to question a good thing. Ration cards are a blessing, and your work with Tommy keeps the food coming in when Joel’s smuggling falls short.

Things turn after that. The Fireflies pull a stunt. They line up half of a dozen off-duty FEDRA workers in the square and beat them to death. Their blood flows down the street the next morning, leading crowds to the scene. Their bodies are marred, sitting in a pile underneath a messy Firefly, painted on an old brick wall.

They post their manifesto all around town, and for the first and only time in a year, the Miller brothers reunite.

You stand between them, staring down at the bodies collecting flies. The scent of cadaver fills the air, the spread of the scent expedited by the summer sun.

Tommy’s shocked.

Joel tells him, “It’s what you signed up for.” They’re his parting words.

FEDRA leaves the bodies on the street for the day, letting the people of the quarantine zone watch wives and children publicly grieve. It was their way of garnering support, of encouraging compliance. Every sob that echoes through the city is a question.

A mother cries for her son. Is this what you want?

A brother falls to his knees. Does freedom require such violence?

A child learns that their father won’t come home. Shouldn’t the Fireflies pay for what they’ve done?

The Fireflies fail, and their manifesto is ignored. FEDRA increases security within the zone. They crack down on illegal activity, not just the Fireflies. Jobs with Tommy become more risky. More hours go into planning, and execution takes twice the time.

Joel’s smuggling ring comes up with a code, something with decades of music. He refuses to share the details with you. He spends hours at a time sitting at the radio, scouring its stations for any sign of whatever. Some days he completely disappears into it, songs you haven't heard in years filling the apartment as incoming and outgoing signals.

Joel worries. You worry. 

There are hangings in the streets almost every day. It used to just be Fireflies. Now it’s everyone: kids sneaking out past curfew, the elderly pocketing extra ration cards, just about anybody they can deal an infraction to.

One night, when it’s too dark for him to read the vulnerability evident on your face, you tell Joel the truth.

“Tommy’s thinking of leaving.”

Joel scoffs. “That’s a stupid thing to do”

“It’s dangerous here.”

“It’s dangerous out there.”

“Maybe.”

“You’re not thinking of leaving.” 

You’re not thinking of leaving. It’s a statement, so presumptuous it makes you dizzy. But it shouldn’t. He’s right. You’re not thinking of leaving. You couldn’t leave Joel. He’s become a part of you. Leaving him would splinter some vital part of your very soul. It would shatter the pipe-dream of love in this world that you’ve somehow made true.

“I wouldn’t leave you, Joel.”

I can’t leave you, Joel. Not now.

****

He’s awake when you shuffle through the door. You don’t turn on the lights, just stumble through the apartment to the bed. You keep your right leg straight as you lower yourself next to him. Your pants are off already, shucked off by the door, he assumes. A bloody bandage wraps around your knee. It seems to stare back at Joel.

It’s blizzarding out. It’s one of the things he hates most about Boston. The bone-chilling storms that never seem to let up. He wonders if that’s why you’re back so late.

“Rough night?” He asks. You don’t answer.

You speak less these days. He doesn’t raise a fuss because when you do speak, you’re arguing. The two of you dance around each other, pretending like there isn’t an invisible wedge driving itself between you. Intimacy evades you, and your features come to harden more and more each time you sneak in past curfew. There are still peeks though, of that woman who smiled so bashfully at him: the way you smile when he greets you with a kiss, laugh at his dry humor, sigh as he sinks himself into you.

“Been two days,” he says. 

You hum in what Joel assumes is your attempt at a response. Your eyes are closed, that he can make out from the moonlight streaming through the window. You’re breathing heavily, either from frustration or pain from your leg. He selfishly hopes it's the latter.

“You should have left a note.”

“If I knew it’d be long, I would have.” Not an apology.

“You didn’t know?”

You sigh, and for a moment Joel thinks you’re going to ignore him, just turn on your side and fall asleep. But you push back, a warning lilt to your voice, “Things went wrong.” He can hear it between your words, I don’t want to do this right now, Joel.

He wants to stop, roll over and pull you into his arms and pretend like your lives aren’t on the line, like everything’s okay. But he’s worried. “Tommy’s gonna get you killed.”

You sit up, so fast Joel thinks you’re going to knock him off of the bed. There’s a sparkle– no, simmering –in your eyes. “Joel–” You stop yourself, a hand coming to pinch the bridge of your nose.

Silence returns to the apartment. You look older in the low lighting, stress pulling unfavorably on your features. 

Joel knows he should apologize for his roughness, but remorse isn’t something he can find within himself. Apologies come hard these days. He lets his anger, fear, and hurt control him, afraid apologizing would let all those feelings melt away, and leave him with an emptiness and need to face his cruel reality.

“Can we not do this?” You whisper, “Not tonight, please.”

Joel purses his lips, pulling you into his side. You let him hold you, feeling the pulsing of his heart beneath his ribcage.

Your hand slips from his shoulder. Lower– to his ribs. Lower– to the softness of his waist. Lower– to the band of the jeans he fell asleep in. He knows what you want. What you need. Most of your arguments end the same way. One of you stops it early, before things get nasty. There’s no resolution, just anger and hate and energy sitting in the air. It needs to be spent somehow.

But he’s tired. You’ve been gone since yesterday morning, longer than you’ve ever been out. And he was awake, waiting for you to walk through the door, weighing when and where he needed to storm off to find you. Adrenaline has come and gone and turned Joel to a husk.

“Tired, baby,” he mutters, placing his hand over yours.

“No, no,” you whisper, though you stall your movements. “Don’t worry about me, baby. Just let me take care of you.” You look at him expectantly, begging silently.

Joel nods and you send him the most honest-to-god beaming smile he’s ever seen as your hands unbutton his jeans. He’s– shamefully –half-hard by the time you work him out of his jeans, and the way you take his tip into his mouth, hands working the rest of his length, has him solid so fast he’s dizzy.

It’s unceremonious and awkward. You lean over your lap to fit him in your mouth. Your bad leg rests on the ground, straight at the knee. He wants to stop you, tell you to move into a more comfortable position, but then his tip hits the back of his throat and all bets are off. His hands knot in your hair as he groans. 

His length pulses in the wet heat of your mouth. He bites back a curse along with the carnal need to take control, hold your head and just thrust. You’d let him, too. That was the worst part of it. You’d let him just take control and abuse your throat. You’d look up at him with wide eyes, tears building up, maybe they’d spill over. 

You’d let all that happen because you were just so fucking good to him. So he stops you, pulling you off of his length with the hand fisted in your hair. You mewl, looking back at him with confused eyes.

The hand in your hair comes to your chin, bringing your face to him. “Lay back down, baby,” he mutters against your lips.

He doesn’t take off your underwear, just pushes it to the side as he presses a finger to your clit in a languid circling. Your hips chase his touch as best you can, mindful of bandages that seem to have just gotten bloodier over time. 

“Careful,” he tuts, though he allows two fingers to slip into your heat. Soaked.

Joel rolls himself on top of you, and your good leg comes to wrap around him, hugging him close. He wastes no time in sinking into you, starting with a brutal pace.

You entangle yourself in him, reaching to get as much of Joel into your arms as you can. You tangle your hands in your hair, trace the line of his jaw, put a hand to his mouth while he plants a kiss on your palm– you’re trying to get close to him, as much as you can without making the pain in your legs scream even more. 

He wants to tell you he missed you, that he’s worried, but then you flex around him, squeezing around his length. He’s reminded of how positively debauched this all is. The morning. He promises himself he’ll tell you in the morning.

His thrusts get sloppier, its staccato less rhythmic as he reaches his peak. You worked wonders on him with your mouth, and it’s biting him in the ass. The lingering of your touch and sensation of being close to you, after so long, has him fighting the urge to let go.

“Where?” He gasps, hips unrelenting in their assault. Your hands fist in his shirt, nails digging to bite at his skin through the fabric.

“Inside,” you rasp, and he almost finishes at the thought of his cum dripping from your cunt. You’d keep it in, 

“So fucking good to me, baby,” he grunts.

He’s close. You’re close. You’ve given up on biting back your moans– your neighbors be damned. You’ve begun murmuring beneath him, words of admiration he can’t hear with his bad ear, yet you mutter them all the same. You take advantage of these moments to share the most intimate parts of yourself without fear of his cold judgment. The same intimacy he’s never reciprocated.

He spits in his hand and slips it back down to your clit. He circles it once, twice, and you melt. The sensations are too much for you, the drag of his cock, the wetness of him swirling at your clit, his choked moans in your ears– they’re all cruel and make your vision go white.

Your orgasm pushes him over the edge. He curses, a rare sound in your ear, but continues his drilling into your cunt.

“So. Damn. Good.” He punctuates each word with a thrust, pushing his spend deeper into you. You clench around him, a vice-grip emphasizing the way he just fills you.

His cock twitches one last time before he draws himself out. A pear of your mixed release slips out with him. You watch his face as his eyes fix on the drip, as he contemplates it before scooping it up and back into your abused cunt.

He lowers himself unceremoniously back down on the bed. Your eyes aren’t on him anymore. They occupy themselves with the ceiling, glazed over with something akin to coldness. You reach for his hand, though, taking it in yours and pulling it to your chest. He leans into you. The arm over your chest pulls you close, while a thick leg traps you beneath him. His head nuzzles into your neck, breathing in your heady scent.

“I need you,” he mummers into your skin.

“I love you,” you say.

He doesn’t say it back.

Drifting to sleep, Joel hears a sniffle, muffled into the fabric covering his chest. It’s just the cold, he tells himself. You’re sniffling because of the cold.

****

He wakes up alone, head pounding with the beginning aches of a migraine. Not now, please. The last of the painkillers were traded to pay for winter heating in the apartment. The chill still finds its way in the crumbling walls of the building, though. Most days it’s bearable, when he can pull your body up against his. But you’re not here.

It’s dark out, still. There’s no way curfew was up. How much sleep did you even get last night? Did you even sleep?

He calls your name. His voice fills the space. When the sound echoes back to him, something in his stomach curls.

Your boots and bag are gone. In fact, your sneakers are missing from the small line of shoes by the door. 

He takes a moment to ground himself, breathing deeply before the pang in his stomach comes to consume him. Emotions aren’t easy to regulate, not when they come to you. Especially not when you’re out in a blizzard. Injured. And tired.

He goes about his day after that, anxious at your absence, but there was business he needed to tend to. It’s not until dinnertime, when the emptiness in his stomach is too much to ignore, that he discovers it.

The photo on the fridge has been his favorite. Tommy took it with an old polaroid. You’re tucked under Joel’s arm, beaming as he plants a kiss on your cheek. When you’re gone, and Joel’s feeling lonely, it keeps him company. It reminds him of an easier time, when FEDRA wasn’t on your tails. When being together was easier.

The picture is gone, and in its place is a note, scribbled on a single, crumpled piece of paper.

He can’t read the letter– refuses to put himself through loss like that again, even at the cost of closure– but his thumb traces the last line of the note. It’s written in bigger, messier text. He still recognizes it as your own. Perhaps it was an afterthought. Perhaps you didn’t want to be presumptuous, just to disappoint.

See you on the other side.

For the first time since you smiled at him in that hallway, Joel Miller feels alone.

[raticalshoez]

Man, there is just something so fascinating to me about the Boat Boys because I think their relationship has always been akin to like...the rockiest of waters (pun intended). I've just been thinking so much about it...

In 3rd Life, funnily enough, one of their first interactions was just them riding a boat together. In Last Life, Joel ended Etho's series. Even before being soulbonded they've had that sort of "me and the bestie/can't stand his fakeass" dynamic.

If anything was evident in Double Life, it's that they had fun together. It's safe to say they probably weren't the most loyal to one another, mainly due to Etho and his Bdubs withdrawal, but it would be wrong to say that they didn't enjoy each other's company. They both have the urge to cause chaos, but one's more upfront about it and the other is more subtle. They complimented each other and balanced out the other, and when the time came around, they died together poetically.

Limited Life was definitely...a season for Joel and Etho interactions. This season was filled with animosity, and constant jabs, and bitter callbacks to a past life. Boat Boys this season were just killing or insulting each other left and right, not finding a moment of comfort or piece around each other.

Then there's Secret Life. This one in particular makes me kind of insane because there's both the animosity and bite to their words when they're interacting with one another, but there was also sincerity. For a brief moment, these two were able to express genuine care that they still had for one another, and that's just crazy to me. Both Joel and Etho's characters don't know sincerity and always deal more mushy, heartfelt things awkwardly, so this was CRAZY for me. And it always hits harder for me because I've always just imagined Joel and Etho's relationship to just be a very strong, platonic bond. They have people who they are definitely closer to; Joel has people like Lizzie, Grian and Jimmy, and Etho has people like Bdubs, Cleo, and Tango. Those are people that they tend to naturally gravitate towards, but the two of them will always end up crossing paths. And well, that's what being soulmates is really about, right? It's not really about romance; it's about being bound to find this particular person in every universe, no matter what.

Out of all the people on the server, I never expected it to be them. Etho and Joel, the two guys who never seemed to be able to let go of their soul bond when everyone else had moved on to some capacity.

It's like how Martyn never left winter. It's like how Jimmy and Tango will always be each others' ranchers even though they no longer reside at the ranch. It's like how Scar and Grian know monopolies better than anyone. Cleo will always be caught up on BigB's betrayal and Lizzie will remain bitter about Cleo's destructive tendencies towards her home. Impulse will never let go of Bdubs' betrayal. It's the way Scott seems somewhat attached to literally ALL of his exes. The lifers just cannot be normal about each other and every new season adds to their insanity regarding one another.

If you've reached the end of this, I commend you. I'm not adding anything new to this conversation, I'm just yapping and blabbling about the Minecraft series that changed my life and altered my brain chemistry. These worms eat at my neurons everyday and I just HAVE to tell somebody, ANYBODY about my insanity.

[pedges]

the one where things are messy

pairing: joel miller x reader (no apocalypse and accidentally on purpose gender neutral)

summary: you leave joel a drunk voicemail.

content: drunk reader. like, drunk. miscommunications, angst, but mostly just a silly little time. reader is joel's neighbor of several years. gratuitous use of the word "fuck." let me know if i've missed anything!

a/n: this is 100% based off friends the tv show. the one where ross finds out. i have not written in a very long time, so i apologize in advance! this is just a nonsensical drabble that ended up being 5k words, so please enjoy <3

The thing is, Joel doesn’t like cats. 

Joel doesn’t hate cats, but he has never expressed any sign of liking cats, at least not enough to warrant the sudden desire to adopt one. With his girlfriend. Who he plans on asking to move in with him. When he tells you, it’s like he just ordered an airstrike to your chest, and you’re thinking maybe you should have slashed his tires before he went to Dallas on business for two weeks and came back with a sweet little thing shacked up in his heart. 

It’s just that when Tommy and you got drunk together a few days after he left, sitting on the couch in Joel’s living room while Tommy played world’s worst babysitter, he had dropped the first of what now seems to be a series of inconvenient bombshells. 

“Don’t get rom-coms, they’re real fuckin’ dumb,” he had been saying, adamantly complaining about your choice of movie. When Harry Met Sally was too cute and too good to receive his vitriol, but the alcohol in your system tore down your usual defense mechanisms. All you could really do was roll your eyes. “Just fuckin’ talk to each other, maybe, maybe this shit wouldn’t take so long.” 

“The hell do you know about communicating, Tommy?” you said, and though you were mostly teasing, you had to bite back a remark about his past relationships never making it past the six month mark. Still, you kept the levity in your voice, the drunken grin on your lips. “Swear, you and Joel think you know everything. Must be an annoying Miller thing.”

“Know more than you,” he said with a scoff, then a hiccup. Taking the last swig of his beer, he set the empty bottle down on the coffee table and looked at you. “Way fuckin’ more than Joel. M’like—the fuck is the word—ret-i-cant. Always watchin’. You wouldn’t get it.” 

“Reticent, and I don’t think you know what you’re talking about.” 

“Bull,” Tommy insisted. “Cause—‘cause I know if Harry and Sally just admitted shit from the getgo—they’da saved so much fuckin’ time.”

You wanted to argue. You want to tell him that was the point of the story, of the insistence for two people who very clearly wanted each other being brought back together each time they tried to stay away from one another. You wanted to tell Tommy that sometimes difficult things were beautiful, and romantic, and heartfelt, and great. But before you could, he was grumbling something as he sank into the couch, something that sounded like, “S’like I kept tellin’ Joel, tired of him tiptoein’ ‘round you.” 

“What?” you said in lieu of everything else running through your quickly sobering mind. 

“Ah, shit.” 

It only took a couple threats of bodily harm for Tommy to tell you that Joel had feelings for you. Keyword: had. He stopped asking about it a while ago, stopped caring when it was obvious Joel “wasn’t goin’ to do a damn thing,” so don’t ask him if he knew more than what he did a few months ago. All of it was quickly followed by pleads to not say shit and that he was sorry he said anything at all. 

You wondered what he would have said if you told him you'd wanted Joel Miller since the moment you laid eyes on him. 

But, you didn’t. And a week and a half later, when Joel came back talking up a storm about an old flame he met up with in Dallas, how fate would have it that she was moving back to Austin—well, needless to say—Tommy’s inability to keep a secret meant nothing now. 

Now, six months later, you’re left to wonder if it hurt Joel this bad when you went on dates, and had partners, and did everything you could to drown out the feelings you had for him. You’d think finding out he had feelings for you—but was now in a relationship with a woman who didn’t playfully (annoyingly) bicker with him, or snort, or make fun—would kill the ones you had for him. But the universe is cruel, and your heart has never really been one to quit. 

Part of you feels bad for thinking it wouldn’t last. Well, not thinking—hoping. But it did, and you realize woefully that you’ve missed your chance with Joel Miller—the man you have spent too many years pining after, too many nights thinking that his brand of affection meant more than he was letting on, and buried too many sorrows in glasses of wine or bottles of beer over. But worst of all, you realize that Tommy was right. 

So, he tells you he wants her to move in with him and Sarah one Saturday evening on his porch. Then he tells you she wants a cat. And you say you’re happy for him. 

“You, uh, don’t think it’s too…soon?” he asks then, like he’s looking to you for a reason to back out. Every fiber of your being is aching to give him one, especially with the way he looks at you with those big browns of his, but the words scratch at your throat hard enough that they don’t make their way out. Instead, you shake your head slowly, forcing a shrug as you sip on the coffee Joel so tenderly prepared for you—the way you like it; he didn’t even have to ask. 

“I think,” you start, though these words aren’t any less sharp than the ones you truly want to say, “if you’re happy, you should do what you want.” 

“You ever picture me with a cat?” Joel snickers. He wears the gentlest smile, enough of one to form those crinkles by his eyes that you love so much. 

“I think you’d look adorable with a cat,” you tell him, and it might be the first true thing you’ve said all night. You picture it, a purring cat curled on his chest, and someone he loves at his side. In your mind, you can’t help but put yourself in that spot. “But,” you continue, “can’t say I’ve ever thought of you actually getting one. You’re more of a…hm. German shepherd guy, maybe even a lizard.” 

Joel laughs—that hearty, full, intoxicating laugh of his. It floods your veins and gives you goosebumps. If the world were to fall to ruins tomorrow, you’d survive on the memory of it alone, you think. 

“Can’t say I disagree with you,” he says then, a leftover grin still curled on his lips, and you want to do anything in your power to keep it there. But then he gets lost in thought, and you watch it soften. It doesn’t disappear completely, but the fact that it’s gone so quickly makes you ache. He speaks again, voice soft as he says, “Guess I just want to make her happy. Lot of things stopped bein’ about me a long time ago, I think.” 

Your heart cinches. Of course he’d say something like that. Of course he’d go and utter words that remind you why you fell in love with him in the first place. And god, that realization hits hard. You are quite, disgustingly in love with Joel. Though it stings, and you’re going to go home and lick your wounds for the hundredth time soon, you get what he means. You stayed silent when he got back from Dallas for the same reason—the smile on his face when he talked about someone he might truly, genuinely like. 

That, and because the someone wasn’t you. 

-

You pull up your britches. 

You have no other choice, you decide, because you’re young, and you’re an adult, and you can get over someone without feeling like you’re going to die. You use your little black book (read: an old Lisa Frank notepad) to call up the fling you had last winter. He’d wanted you, badly, but because there was a night where you thought Joel might’ve kissed you, you never called back. It seems stupid now, looking back. 

But, you thank your lucky stars, or one man’s utter desperation, that he’s still single and he still wants you. He takes you out to a nice restaurant, in a nice suit, and nice shoes. The conversation isn’t even bad, and he’s putting your drinks on his tab. The second one in, you think maybe this could work. 

It’s when you lose count that things go bad. 

“I don’t even think Joel likes cats,” you’re slurring to this poor man, who is desperately scanning the restaurant for a waiter, a check, and a way out of your ramblings about Joel’s love life. You can’t tell if you’re crying or not, though it really feels like you want to. Because one moment you were having a nice time, and the next someone was ordering Joel’s drink—whiskey on the rocks, with a twist—at the table over and you weren’t able to keep him out of your mind from that point on. 

It’s ridiculous, because it’s not Joel’s Drink, it’s A Drink—one that Joel only ever orders, but you could see someone in a worn down green and gray flannel and wonder when Joel Miller became such a trendsetter. Still, nothing can stop you from ordering one yourself, and then another, and then another. It’s like you’re trying to flood your senses with Joel Joel Joel because you know it’ll never be him sitting across from you with the intention of taking you home and maybe kissing you outside your door.

Though, if you weren’t gone by your fourth whiskey, you’d see that your date has lost any and all intentions of that manner. It’s probably not even because you’re drunk, it’s because you’re still wearing Joel’s name on your lips like it’s going out of style. 

“Like—like, I can’t just tell Joel, no, y’know? Or, I don’t think you should get a cat with a woman you had a thing with before you met the mother of your child, and especially shouldn’t have her move in with you after six months. But I want to. Because he’s smarter than this, and I don’t think it’s the right move, especially because of Sarah, and Tommy, ugh, Tommy. Idiot. They’re both idiots. Joel especially, methinks.” 

You don’t know when your date finally flagged down the waiter, or when he dropped you off at home, or when you got inside and picked up your landline. You especially don’t know when you dialed Joel’s number and left him a voicemail when he inevitably didn’t answer. 

All you know is that you mixed your alcohols that night, and you’re probably going to wake up in some version of hell in the morning, but it seems like falling asleep has never been so easy before. 

—

Hell is an understatement. You don’t get sick, but you wish you could throw up your brain, or at least the part of it that still gets headaches like this. It’s with the most gut wrenching revelation that you don’t have any ibuprofen, or any recollection of the night before.  

For the time being, it’s truly the least of your worries. The most of them are getting rid of your life threatening headache. So, after making yourself as presentable as you can, you trudge across the street to Joel’s house—it’s because his house is closer than the drugstore three blocks down. Not because seeing his face would make you feel better anyways. 

“Aren’t you a beauty this afternoon,” Joel laughs when he opens the door, because really, you look like death, and you hadn’t even realized it was past one o’clock. You’re grateful it’s Saturday, and Sarah has soccer practice right now, because she looks up to you, and the last thing you need is for her to see you like this. 

“Shut up,” you grumble, shoving your way past him despite his teasing. He doesn’t mind, and you know he doesn’t. If the smile still on his face is anything to go by. It’s then you realize that yeah, okay, seeing him does make you feel better. Even if it’s just by a fraction. 

“Thought you left your partyin’ days in college,” he continues with his teasing. “Let me guess: you came over here to raid my medicine cabinet.” 

By the time he closes his front door and turns around, you’re already sinking into his plush couch, giving him a look with raised brows that could only mean, You mean you’re going to raid your medicine cabinet, for me. 

“Ah,” he says. Any other moment, your heart would stutter at the ease in which he reads you. Now, your heart is threatening to fail for an entirely different reason. “Got it. Be right back.” 

Joel sticks by his word. He comes back, not just with painkillers, but with water, warmed up coffee, and one of the store-bought muffins you love so much. If you weren’t dying, you’d hug the man. If you weren’t so smart, you’d probably even kiss him. 

“Don’t die on me, alright? Need you around for shenanigans and such,” Joel tells you, leaving you to your devices on his couch. The pain meds go down, and the coffee does wonders from just one sip. You allow yourself to lie on the couch, pillow over your face to block out the harsh light. It seems that as the seconds pass, and by some miracle, you start to feel more and more at ease. Fragments of last night come back slowly, but not enough to piece together the entire puzzle. 

You drank a lot, that much is clear. 

It’s not until you hear a series of beeps from the kitchen, where Joel keeps his landline and answering machine, do the cogs in your brain start cranking a little harder. One voicemail plays over the speaker, something about work that makes Joel sigh and skip it before he can play it all the way through. 

Beeeeep. 

“Heeeeello, Joel. Hi, hello, howdy. It’s me.” 

Joel calls out, “Did you call me last night?” 

You sit up in record time. 

It comes rushing back. 

“I just don’t see why he can’t get something that doesn’t live so long. Like a hamster. Or goldfish. Or a fruit fly. It’s just so—“

“Listen! Listen. I don’t know who Joel or Tommy or Sarah are. You sound—hung up. But if you really want my advice? Get some closure. You clearly have feelings for this guy and you won’t get over him until you do.” 

“Closure! Oh, you’re a genius!” 

“Joel,” you call over the sound of your own drunken voice, dread now filling your body to the fucking brim. But it seems like your body can’t move fast enough. “Joel, hang up, hang it up, hang it up.”

“I just—just wanted to call and tell you I am so happy for you. And your future cat. And I think you should name it Frank. And because I am giving you names, that means I am getting closure—“

You can hear your heartbeat sounding against your eardrums, but feel it falling to the ground as you finally muster up the memory of how to work your legs. But by the time you’re stumbling into the kitchen, you can hear the worst of the voicemail that has Joel’s face drained of any possible readable emotion. You start praying for the ground to swallow you whole and munch your bones. It would be a more peaceful way to go than this. 

“Because you’re over me, I am over you, my sweet Joel. That’s right. I am over you. How’s that for closure?” 

The machine beeps, and then the heaviest silence enters the kitchen. 

Seconds, minutes, maybe even years pass as you stand in the doorway, looking at Joel looking at the answering machine. Then at you. 

“You’re…over me?” he finally says. You swallow the softball that had lodged itself in your throat and almost choke on it. “When, uh, when were you under me?” 

Suddenly, you think the whole life flashing before your eyes thing is true. Because you feel like you’re dying, and all you can think about is every happy moment you’ve had surrounded by Joel. The first time you met, the way Sarah took a liking to you, the unlikely friendship you formed with his brother. You think of all the nights spent on Joel’s porch, sometimes talking, but most times in such a genuinely comfortable silence, where you could do nothing but enjoy each other’s presence. You think of all the fleeting touches, lingering glances, pet names reserved just for you—and how you doubted all the thoughts that they could mean something more. 

You don’t know what hurts more—the fact that, according to Tommy, they did, or that now they didn’t. 

But most of all, you think of how when you were searching for a home several years ago, you didn’t expect to find it in the family of a man named Joel Miller. 

And you didn’t expect to lose it in the worst way possible. 

When you remember where you are, what is happening, and realize that you haven’t actually died, you let out a pathetic little noise. Halfway between a whimper and the words you can’t yet form. 

“What, uh—what did you mean, over me?” Joel finally asks. He’s never been one to beat around the bush, but god, you wish just this time he would. In fact, you wish he’d pretend that this never happened. But you know better. You know there’s no ignoring this. 

“I—“ you barely manage to choke out. Because truly, what do you say? Against your better judgment, you opt for the truth. “I…may or may not have feelings,” you say, and then, “For you. Tommy told me you��you used to feel the same.” 

“Oh.” 

“Yeah.”

“…And you’re over me?” 

You wince. Maybe drunk-you convinced yourself so briefly that saying it would make it true. But by the weight of your heart, and the way it feels like there’s been barbed wire wrapped around it, gripping it tight, you know any answer besides No would be a lie. But because you can’t really bring yourself to say it, not with the way tears threaten to burn your eyes any second now, you instead say, “I don’t know.” 

It seems though, Joel wanted so desperately for you to say yes. By the way he jumps into action, grabbing his keys from the kitchen counter and making a break for it, he wanted you to say Yes, I’m completely over you. But you didn’t, and now he’s leaving you alone in his own house. 

-

You don’t speak for a week. 

You’re not exactly sure who’s avoiding who. You just know you’re wallowing in something that feels akin to lava that refuses to swallow you whole. Inside you there’s this ache, like there’s an empty space where someone should be inside your heart. It feels like three empty spaces, actually, and you had never weighed the consequences of losing Joel before. Part of you wishes you could have just gotten rid of your feelings for him a long time ago. Collecting the evidence now, though, told you there was no easy way to do that. Maybe quitting him cold turkey would have done the trick, or moving to Antarctica. But apparently, when you fell in love with Joel, you fell in love with his entire family, and three people was a hell of a lot harder to give up than one. 

In fact, on day seven, you’re stealthing your way back inside your home after a trip to the grocery store, like you have been all week, when you hear a familiar voice call your name. You turn to see Sarah across the street, standing at the backdoor of Tommy’s truck in her soccer uniform, waving at you with this sad little smile on her face. One that says she doesn’t know what’s going on, just that she hasn’t seen you in a while, and you realize that this is the longest you’ve gone without speaking to her since you first met her. 

You look around like you’re going to get caught committing a crime when you send the most timid wave back. It ends up feeling like a crime anyways when the face you’ve been aching to see comes out of the house, followed by his brother, and he follows Sarah’s line of sight. Meeting his eye is a serrated knife slicing through you, jagged, and harsh, and no clean cuts. 

But what hurts the most is when he opens Sarah’s door and all but forcefully guides her inside the truck, like he’s ushering her away from a bad thing. You think maybe he is. 

You rush inside afterwards and think of ways to never leave your house again. 

Hours later, you’re sitting on your couch watching another ridiculous rom-com, the only comfort you’ve found, with perpetual tears brimming your eyes. Tommy really was fucking right, wasn’t he? Had there been some inkling of communication, you wouldn’t be here. But there wasn’t, and you are, and it sucks—somehow, it seems like this will never not hurt. 

At ten o’clock, there’s a knock at your door. It makes you jump, mostly because this sense of knowing dread fills your body—like you know who it is before you can even open it, because you do. When Joel is standing on the other side, those big brown eyes of his full of something you can’t make out, he asks if he can come in. You aren’t even sure he’d listen if you said no, so you say yes. 

He steps inside, you close the door, and there’s a beat of silence before, “Sarah was askin’ about you all day.” 

You stand at your door, hands together as you toy with your own fingers nervously. Your heart is racing and your mind is reeling, but most of all, there’s this resounding ache echoing throughout your entire body. 

“Sorry,” is all you can really say in return. 

“I didn’t get a cat,” Joel says then. Your heart jolts at the mention. 

“Oh.” You look down at your hands. “Interesting.” 

“No, not interestin’.” When Joel speaks this time, he almost sounds angry. Frustrated, maybe, but he doesn’t sound happy, especially not with you. When you force yourself to look up, he has the face to match—brows furrowed, pout on his lips, gaze firm. “I should have a cat right now. I should have a movin’ truck outside my house, I should be living with my girlfriend—instead I’ve got a daughter askin’ too many questions, a shit talkin’ brother, and I’m standin’ inside your living room angry as all hell right now.” 

“Angry?” you say. He absolutely just said too many words with too many implications, but that’s the one you happen to get caught up on. Mostly because it lights a fire in you. Part of you thinks he has every right to be angry, but the other part feels justified in your own anger. “I’m sorry, why the hell are you angry with me?” 

“Because,” Joel responds quickly, voice harder, louder. He looks as if he didn’t expect you to fight back, but what a dumb presumption to have made. “Because you had no fuckin’ right to tell me you felt something about me.” 

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Joel,” you spit back, voice dripping with sarcasm, but really? You are. 

“No, it’s not fuckin’ fair, and you don’t fuckin’ get it.” Joel steps forward, and for the first time, he does look genuinely angry. But after looking at him for a second longer, you realize it’s not that. He’s hurt. “I was doin’ fine before you came along with that mess. I was doin’ fuckin’ fantastic before I found out about you!” 

“I was doing great before I found out about you!” you shout back even though you weren’t doing great before. Not even close. Still, you want to stay angry, but your voice betrays you. “You think it was easy to find out you used to feel the same way about me? You think it was easy watching you be all happy with someone else, huh?”

“Oh, like I haven’t done it a thousand times, darlin’.” Joel’s words are sharp.

“You never said anything!” Yours are too. 

“There was never a good fuckin’ time,” he says coldly. Your own blood begins to turn icy in your veins as he huffs angrily. 

“And now is?” you respond coolly, before your walls begin to crumble. They had a while ago, actually, but now you’re resorting to kicking the rubble around. “Why did you come over here, Joel? To rub it in my face, tell me that you’re just—just going to get rid of whatever you felt?”

There’s a flash of pain on Joel’s face before he resolves to a glower at you. “I was happy.” He says your name, broken and small. “And I’ve been doin’ it for a helluva long time, sweetheart. I can keep doing it now.” 

Even though it truly does sound like he’s trying to convince himself of his own words, the suffocating pain in your chest is becoming too much to bear. So you point towards your door. “Then go.” 

“Fine,” he spits, stomping towards the exit at your command. 

“Fine!” 

Before you know it, he walks out, your door slams, and he’s gone. 

You finally reach a crossroads. As tears brim your eyes, you realize that this is it, isn’t it? You were an asteroid that missed Joel by a mile, and now you were sentenced to a life drifting aimlessly in space. You missed out on a place to land—this is it. 

Moments pass. You do whatever you can to soak in everything that unraveled before you, and there’s no hope in picking up the pieces. No hope in weaving them back together. Before you can let out a pathetic little sob and stalk off towards your room, you suddenly hear footsteps leading back to your front door. Then there’s a knock at it, soft—quiet. 

As your heart begins to race, you step to open the door, only to find Joel on the other side. As if you could be surprised. It’s safe to say you’ve never seen the man look so dejected, like a dog bringing a bird to your front door. He’s illuminated by your flickering porch light and the glow from the moon, and if you weren’t suffering so, you’d tell him you’d never seen a man look so ethereal. 

Searching his eyes for any semblance of an answer to all the questions you now have doesn’t last long. Because before either of you can say a word, Joel’s hands are cupping your face and he’s kissing you like he’s been underwater for far too long, and you’re fresh fucking air.  

And you let him. 

You let him, because the universe hasn’t offered you any other choice—if it has, you’re not fucking taking it. You let him kiss you, and push you inside, and kick the door closed behind him, because you’ve wanted this for years. You’ve ached for this, yearned for the feeling of Joel’s lips on yours, the warmth of his mouth and tongue—the feeling of his hands on your waist. 

Joel kisses you for as long as either of you can stand it, which is a pretty long time considering the way your hearts are racing and lungs are clawing for air. It’s when the back of your knees are pressed against the arm of your couch, and you’re falling backwards onto it, pulling him down with you, do you both pull back long enough to breathe. Though, it’s mostly huffs, recovering from the sudden fall and shock of the best fucking kiss either of you have ever had in your life. Still, the urge to smile hits you for the first time in over a week. 

You start to speak, whispering, “What about—“ 

“It’s over,” he says quietly into the space between your lips. “It was over the moment I heard that voicemail, I think. But only officially as of this afternoon.” 

Your throat tightens. You look up at him, your eyes still glistening with unshed tears, but that ache in your heart has begun to dull. “So why did you—“

“Scared, mostly,” Joel interrupts you again, because it really isn’t that hard for him to know what you’re asking and why. He brushes stray hair from your face. “Confused. Because I really thought I was over you, sweetness. Took me a week to deal with the fact that I wasn’t. Didn’t even truly figure it out until my feet dragged me over here.”

Your brow furrows, but a sweet smile draws over your lips as you bring your own hand to his face. You caress his cheek, running your hand over his beard. Deep down, you get it. You really do. But you no longer have it in you to ask any questions. Joel is here, and he is kissing you, and even though nothing has been set in stone, you suddenly don’t feel the need to carry the hurt you had anymore. 

“Think I owe Tommy a drink or two,” you joke then, and you both laugh. Joel even snorts. 

“Like hell you do,” he scoffs, “Tommy ain’t do shit besides spill my secrets and cause us grief.” 

“Okay, then we need to send Meg Ryan and Billy Crystal some gift baskets, at least.” 

“What?” Joel laughs, but you pull him down for another kiss that melts your goddamn heart. You’ve had a taste, and you’re never going to get enough. But instead of getting into it completely, you just soak in the moment. Maybe Tommy was right about the whole talkin’ it out thing, but so were you, you realize. 

Sometimes difficult things could end up being beautiful. 

So when you pull back and meet Joel’s eyes once more, you give him the softest little smile. 

“We’ll talk about it in the morning,” you say. “Promise.” 

-

-

-

-

-

-

-

[skoulsons]

the live action giving Joel and Ellie more moments of bonding as opposed to the game is such a great way to somewhat change things, and yet still keep it as impactful. Not to say they don’t bond in game, because of course they do, but to see the in-between moments of their journey in the show canon has delivered in some fantastic ways

Getting the smaller moments we don’t get to see in game because it happens during gameplay; the ambush in KC/Pittsburgh, for example. To add to that, we see him in game make sure she knows how to use a rifle and eventually give her the pistol once that section is done (one of my favorite scenes <3) but the way it’s done in show is a lot more personal. Him kneeling down and not rushing to make sure she knows what she’s doing. The apology from Joel before that because he feels bad she had to shoot a man. Her asking him, genuinely, “are you okay?” Even in the pickup truck when they first crashed, him looking to her immediately and his tone being complete concern. “Are you okay? You’re not hurt? Nothing?”

Their nights. We’ve only gotten two, but the one in the woods. Her trying to crack a joke and even getting a smile out of him, not that he let her know that. Her confiding in him that they won’t be found, and him reassuring her, despite not believing it himself. Him staying up because his kid cargo was scared. Them eating ravioli in the morning and their talks in the truck. And their next night before Henry and Sam find them; having a genuine conversation and then laughing with each other like little kids. Even in the preview for next episode- they’re sitting around a fire (and Joel doesn’t like fires bc of people being able to find them. makes me think he makes one unprompted for her bc she’s grieving Henry and Sam, or she expresses she’s cold and he makes one for her without hesitation.) and they have, what seems like, a heartfelt conversation. Her opening up to him about how she tried to help Sam and maybe more about her immunity or how desperately she wants to get to the fireflies now.

Their talks on the road in episode three. Ellie pestering him with all her questions and him answering them. Telling her about how the apocalypse started. Even with things like the date of his birthday or pancake mix resurfacing and reminding him of that dreaded day, he’s kind in answering her. And she even thanks him afterward.

Not so much a bonding moment of them together, but shows how they’ve grown. Him wordlessly and silently protecting her, like they’re psychically linked. How he just knows where she’s going and what her plan is. That they’ve spent enough time together to just know each other.

And not so much bonding moments, but the very little things. Leaning over and showing her what a seatbelt is when he really didn’t have to, giving her his coat and the last bits of his food, grabbing her arm and pushing her behind him to shield her from an oncoming clicker, having his arm across her shoulders while he guides her to safety, or him reassuring her that “they’re not gonna hit you”. Things that, as most of us know, are going to add up to so much in the future

[enpr-ss]

Limited life blogging!

BRO WHATS WITH BOOGEYKILL? It’s only been 10 minutes??? Scott??? BDUBS???? WHAT IS HAPPENING??? SKIZZ AGAIN??? On brand for Bdubs to do it to the guy that just got killed. Within 1 minute of the choosing. I can’t I’m crying so hard right now. It’s not even a clever play anymore this is just hilarious. Skizz’s heartfelt speech while Joel and Jimmy are dying in the background. This ain’t about them. Joel bringing Boat Boys over into this. No wonder Etho replaced him with a cow. And of course Etho taunts him back about Jimmy replacing him, and of course he kills the cow. They’re referencing ALL the previous series. So many things are happening at the start. Wow. Everyone is just trying to ally with Etho. Everyone really be dying in pairs. Skizz again. They just can’t keep a cow alive. WHO TNTED THE COWS LOOOOOL?!?! Everyone is dropping like flies.

The complete U-turn once the vexes come out and then the hilarious cutscene back to the meeting room. Everyone REALLY wants Etho’s tnt. “Come here Bdubs…I need an easy boogey kill and it doesn’t get easier than you.” Bdubs never let go of the deadweight allegations lol. Etho and his tnt tree farms. Skizz and Bdubs slap fight lol. Bad boys going out of bounds lol. Joel’s deadpan threat of making himself yellow to get Etho back. Truly another wizard moment. Etho is so happy about his tnt. How many redstone geniuses does it take to craft a power rail. And of all people, it’s Skizz that makes them. Wait why did Grian afk? And why is Bdubs so clingy to Etho? HOW HAS SCAR MISSED WITH THE TNT MINECARTS SO MANY TIMES?!? How is everyone dying so much. WHAT IS HAPPENING?? BDUBS WAS THE THIEF ALL ALONG!! And of course the trap didn’t get him. Also what is causing the timer to glitch? Was it a bubblevator tnt? Also rip Tango’s tower. I wonder if there’s anyone who hasn’t died yet. Grian slain by PUFFERFISH??? HE WAS SO CAREFUL, WAS ANTICIPATING IT, AND STILL DIED TO THE CREEPER LOL. TORCHES LOL. Bdubs heckling him lol.

Etho with the banana code again. Tango and Etho making fun of Skizz’ incredibly obvious plan. Huh Etho’s rping the deadbeat dad a lot. Especially by making Scar and Bdubs turn on each other. HALF A HEART??? Every green has a yellow going after them for lols. “Off you go Joel!! Oh I fell - thank you. You saved me! You saved Joel so that I can kill you!” WHAT A SCENE!!! HE LANDED IN THE MLG. HE WASNT EVEN BOOGEY!! TOO GOOD TO BE SCRIPTED. What is happening. How did Martyn hit the ground he was in WATER. Impulse still the luckiest bastard ever. Etho trying to have a moment with Joel. Wait where was Martyn hiding?? Yes Etho what a great idea. Pull the tnt minecarts towards you. SCOTT’S PERFECT TIMING BEHIND THEM. HE JUST WATCHED THE TNT MINECART SLOWLY ROLL IN HIS DIRECTION LOL. SKIZZ NEARLY DIED SWIMMING AND TANGO HAS TO MAKE IT EASIER FOR HIM LOL. Triple kill!!! Skynet, the mob farm, and pretty much unlimited deaths were the best things to ever happen to this server. Was Etho's mob farm just supplying the entire server for tnt? “I’m impressed Etho, that’s possibly the best work you’ve ever done.” “Thank you Cleo. Also that was so mean” LOL “Not overrated… his skills were from back in the day” and Bdubs defending Etho’s redstone when they’re talking about his pvp skills. HE CALLED HIMSELF WASHED UP AHHAHAAHAH. Omg this scene is ICONIC. Etho just envisioning all the trash talk in his comments. THUMBNAIL IS ONE WORD LOL. Bdubs behaving exactly like an ethogirl in the comments making everything worst. YOUTUBE IN GENERAL LOL. What an episode.

The clocker RP is so good. Babysitting and also bullying Bdubs. Etho loves his tnt. And him just listening on Jimmy’s streamer talk. Ah they went after their wheat because of bread bridge. And his bridge too. This family dinner rp is too real omg. “I like that she’s quiet.” Omg. “Well this is nice” after the tnt gets placed down. OH DID HE CUT OUT THE ABSENT FATHER ROAST?!?!? They’re ACTUALLY playing fetch chicken with the tnt minecart. I can’t believe this. “Little bit of a baby throw” this is real incomprehensible family games right here. The trust exercise with the useless redstone torch. TWO?!? LOL THEY BLEW THEMSELVES UP AS EXPECTED. CLASSIC. WHAT DID THEY THINK WAS GOING TO HAPPEN?! “You dropped the ball.” BRO.

Watching the clip compilation ep 6 by Molecoid. Has the no thumbnail and the intro LOL. He compared Skizz and Scar’s abs….. why. ZombieGem absolutely roasting Etho. “Why would I ever listen to you?” A scar trap lol. “Why are you saying re in front of it?” LOL Joel and Jimmy are so desperate. Impulse is so bad at lying. HE DIDNT EVEN HIDE HIS STASIS CHAMBER AND SCAR FOUND IT AND KILLED HIM IMMEDIATELY. He resets it and Scar gets him again. Why would he reset it right there. HE DIES TO HIS OWN TRAP LOL. Martyn witnessing the downtime of Etho and seeing him turn red is such a lucky find. Wait how did Bdubs survive that end crystal. Just as he’s warning Etho from the family dinner too. ZOMBIEGEM ABSOLUTELY ROLLED HIM OMG. HE BARELY EVEN TRIED SHE LITERALLY BROKE HIS SHIELD WITH SWORE CRITS AND ENDED IT. HE GOT LIKE 2 HITS IN AND THEY WERENT EVEN CRITS. DIDNT EVEN BREAK HER SHIELD. “Wrench of a wife” LOL. SHE WASNT EVEN USING HER SHIELD. SHE UPHILL SWORDED HIM WHEN HE HAD A DIAMOND AXE. SHE WAS ON TWO HEARTS AND SHE STILL HIT HIM LIKE 10 TIMES AND KILLED HIM AGAIN. OH MY GOD HE IS WASHED.

“Yeah I lost my audio” he says over clips of him getting absolutely demolished by the clockers LOL. What a significant look between Grian and Etho. Wow things really have changed this series. Etho doesn’t even pretend to not be the boogey. HE PULLED THE “YOURE ADOPTED” CARD OOOOOOH 1v3s without pregapping; 1/4 the damage was from his own firework, dies to lag from Grian while Scott cleans up. Classic. Quad kill!! Of course people trapped spawn. That firework through the waterfall kill on Jimmy was pretty cool.

Classic Jimmy Trying to get Scott again with the fishing rod slow tnt minecarts. Joel died to glass in the water??? LOL. Etho just hitting every single block and taking fall damage at the worst time possible. HE KEEPS OPENING VC LOL. Bdubs trying to mediate between Scar and Etho lol. HE FELL OFF, CLUTCHED, OFFHANDS HIS AXE AND USES A PICK, AND THEN DIES TO A SKELETON. HES WASHED. AND THEN A WOLF STOLE HIS KILL LOOOOOL. Bdubs taking pity on him. This is such an iconic moment but Skizz’ skin is killing me. “You’re a standup guy. I appreciate you, I love everything about you. I just wish you were better at this game.” AND AXE CRITS SKIZZ LIKE THAT. BRUTAL. EXECUTES HIM WHILE LAUGHING. Skizz’s ghostly “Me too” is also great. What an ending.

He finally got a tnt minecart kill! “Tango this is Minecraft. Why don’t you have blocks?” Pearls game was rigged to kill all three. Etho was smart enough to pick the house that had its undersides all blown up lol. IMPULSE FINALLY GETS A END CRYSTAL KILL!!! BEAUTIFUL. Scar with the excellent sword names. Etho got Grian!!! Etho’s just all by himself, in the sky, talking to ghosts. Oh you can shoot into the border now? How many times did Etho kill Grian?? With the fireworks through water each time as well??? And Scar cheering on Etho in the chat. ETHO HAD TO PROMPT GRIAN TO ENACT THE LOYALTY SWORD LOL!!! FANDOM LIED TO ME!!!! I thought it was a secret low key thing that would only appear at the beginning and end and would be Grian initiated but no!!!! Grian is so happy to live out his dreams of being rescued and partnered with Etho. He’s so time hungry omg. Turning immediately on Pearl. Giving a fair 1v1 to Pearl was very kind of him. He’s still washed though. He died to fall damage just like Grian lol. Half his health gone to his own firework too. He pinned the fluffing comment HAHA

[bluiex]

HI SOMEONE ASKED FOR BOTTOM SCAR FICS AND I AM DELIVERING

(sorry if someone already suggested some that i'm gonna suggest, i guess those fics are the ones who marked us)

I would like to start with mumscarian, classic, ya know?

Dicentra by rosemaryKnight is very good, the last chapter is just Scar getting ruined by Grian and Mumbo and it's filled with funny moments and heartfelt moments.

The Best Reward by Anonymous is also one where Scar gets, just, ruined by Grian and Mumbo and I'm pretty sure there's a sweet aftercare moment at the end.

Grounded by Anonymous is elf Scar being teased by Mumbo and Grian (Mumbo is a dom in this one, but like, hhhnghghgn he just... ruins Scar in all the best ways) and the aftercare scene is just so soft, and I think The Best Reward and this fic have similarities in the aftercare scene, bc I often mix them up.

it feels so good, oh, to be alone with (both of) you by Anonymous (theres a lot of anonymous fics in the bottom scar tag) is where Mumbo is the sub, but he does fuck Scar and both of them are just enjoying it. I swear Grian is also there, he's quite important in this fic. It does have mommy/daddy kink, so, be warned.

Breaking News: Does Scar is Omega? by Sumilacra is just. Poignant. Like, yes, there is smut at the end, but they're so soft to each other ad respect Scar's boundaries and it's one of the few Aspec Scar fics I found (can you tell I'm often on the Scar tag?)

Next up, Scarian and others, bc ooo boy, scarian is quite popular but with a third person as well.

all your little dooms by Anonymous is just, Scar in a dress and teasing the heck out of Grian.

insatiable by Anonymous is Grian and Scar not wanting to top and are asking kinda the whole server who wants to join them. You will eventually see why no one wants to and why Tango is stuck in the mix. Okay, this might not be Sub Scar, but it's too funny to let it pass under the radar.

CuteGuy's Present by mecha_apocalyspe7 is Scar wearing lingerie and Grian wants to ravish him. Bonus points, genderqueer Scar hehe

In his grasp by mecha_apocalyspe7 is just Scar and Grian having soft sex while Grian dirty talks him. It's one hell of a time.

elation in my promise by Anonymous is after MCC 28, Grian and Cub just want to ruin Scar in his pretty little dress he wore for the event. Peak sub Scar here, right after Grounded, The Best Reward and Dicentra.

You're So Pretty by goodtimeswithgrian is college AU and Scar is down bad for Grian, so much that he goes into subspace.

Chirp by TheDirtySpirit is just scarian soft sex, once again, but Scar is the bottom.

A Different Kind of Wager by Anonymous is after HEP lost against the Resistance, Grian gets to fuck Scar.

I'm stuck in the past, Your eyes are on the future, Who's left to watch the present? by Its5amHere is a much darker fic than any here, including rape and using kinks against the other. It's double life fic where the soulbond feels each other's sexual pleasure and, well, let's just say Joel and Etho will do everything to get the enchanter back.

Now, there's 3 fics I still want to suggest before I leave writing my WIPs and procrastinate.

The Burning One, who seizes what his heart desires by orphancrow is a Convex smut fic, where Cub is the Pharaoh and Scar is his slave and Cub teases him and I just need to promote orphancrow's fics, but they also wrote (in the same series) a cubriande (cub/Ariana Griande) fic and I felt like Scar wasn't enough of a big feature to include it here, but go check out their work for some good convex fics.

The other convex smut fic is Hubris by KieIsWrite, and warning for rape/non-con, bc it's sculk Cub fucking Scar into joining him in the ways of the sculk.

And finally, A Jimmy/Scar smut fic. jimmy's famous baths by mecha_apocalysp7 is Scar teasing Jimmy and he might not be sub, but he is a bottom and a slut, so, have at it.

Okay, sorry for the long ask, but someone summoned me and I had to suggest all these amazing works. Bloop out!

Heres the links for all the fics! :D since bloop cant link in asks

Dicentra Grounded it feels so good, oh to be alone with (both of) you Breaking News: Does Scar is Omega? All your little dooms insatiable CuteGuy's Present In his grasp elation in my promise You're pretty when in control Chirp A differentt kind of wager I'm stuck in the past, Your eyes are on the future, Who's left to watch the present? The Burning One Hubris jimmy's famous baths

[coquelicoq]

For your Untamed Billy Joel Musical, have you considered "I Go To Extremes"? It would barely need any lyrics changed.

yeah that's such a good one! @needtherapy suggested in the notes on the only the good die young parody that wei wuxian sing it during sunshot, which is spot on, and then later in response to this VERY funny How Peaceful Is LWJ: Episode 36 post it occurred to me that it would be delightful to have drunk!lan wangji do a reprise...

other songs that would work with few lyrical changes, mostly courtesy of @winepresswrath and needtherapy from that first link:

river of dreams as a song for the yunmeng trio to sing from different parts of the stage while they're separated during the burial mounds era

shameless, which wei wuxian originally sings VERY over the top and tongue in cheek during the yin iron roadtrip, and then a reprise in the second life to which lan wangji has a very different reaction (@weatherfey's brilliant suggestion), and then lan wangji does a heartfelt reprise on the steps of jinlintai

AND SO IT GOES JIANG CHENG SOLO (still hurting over this tbh)

if i only had the words (to tell you) would be lan wangji when he's trying to get wei wuxian to come back to gusu with him

lullabye (goodnight, my angel) as a song jiang yanli sings to her brothers and her brothers sing to jin ling and a-yuan when they're missing her...this would serve as the yunmeng trio theme and the melody would recur at all their important moments

if you have jiang cheng singing the questions in big man on mulberry street to wei wuxian (just change the pronouns to you instead of i), you could make some cosmetic changes to the street names and plop it in the qishan indoctrination. or if you were willing to make some changes to the questions you could make it about wei wuxian not carrying his sword and his other assorted inexplicable (to jiang cheng) behavior during and post sunshot

state of grace is sooooo lan wangji to wei wuxian during sunshot and/or burial mounds coded. but almost all of it would work very well for jiang cheng as well...maybe they trade off verses

i also think lan wangji could do a lil summer, cloud recesses solo at some point during that same period. maybe when he's letting wei wuxian and the wens go?

honesty would be first sung by nie mingjue, then lan xichen could do a reprise in guanyin temple

wei wuxian sings a minor variation right after he fails to grow lotus in the burial mounds

you may be right is wei wuxian to lan wangji but i'm not really sure exactly how to get the timing work. i did a version with the first verse in the burial mounds and the second verse in xuanwu cave, but i'm not married to that

someone could maybe sing angry young man about wei wuxian, but i'm not sure who

she's got a way and/or leave a tender moment alone by jin zixuan

song lan gets everybody has a dream :)

just the way you are, lan wangji to wei wuxian post-resurrection

possibly wei wuxian all about soul about lan wangji sometime in the second life, though it's probably unnecessary

you're my home, ensemble cast (also see needtherapy's wangxian fanvid 🥺). curtain.

also see various lyrical rewrites in A Very Untamed Billy Joel Musical Ice Dance Extravaganza. thanks for your contribution to the billy joel cql fandom, you're welcome here any time 🥰

[guiltypleasure-girl]

Oh sweet, talented Cee, you’ve really hit the spot with this one…

First off, 5000 notes??!! Okay major slay from you like seriously you are the people’s princess and we are here to bow at your feet!!! So proud of you! You truly deserve it!! ❤️

Secondly, you come at me with gruff, well-fed, big, broad Joel Miller and don’t expect me to immediately fall to my feet in despair (affectionate) over his tight jeans and bulging tummy???? 

Well played, Cee. Well played. 🫠

You’re used to being the most awkward person in the room wherever you go, but this man is��giving you a pretty good run for your money right now.

Yessss. We love awkward in this house!!! Awkward is so truly x reader coded for me like yes I am that awkward bitch! Put me in awkward situations with a hot awkward man!!!

And then… you really shouldn’t, but you stare at the front of the jeans. Now, you know for a fact that the fit will be just as snug there even if he goes a size up…

STOOPPPP (but really don’t you cheeky thing!!!)

Your front brushes his chest briefly when you reach around to catch it, but not brief enough for him to ignore the soft swell of your breasts pressed up against him.

SCREAMING

‘I’m not actually wearin’ any underwear right now. Not out of habit, it’s just that I’ve been barely squeezin’ into the stupid jeans even without it.’ His honest answer seems to put you at ease, and you purse your lips. ‘Sounds uncomfortable.’ He shrugs. ‘Have been for months.’ ‘I’m sorry.’

The way you make the 'Joel has no underwear on' moment into something emotional and heartbreaking??? Okay Cee, I see you, I see you. 

His fingers twitch at his sides, and he closes his eyes, fighting the base instinct to cup the back of your head in his palm and to pull you close -

YOU ARE AN EVIL GENIUS

But we’re going to need some lubrication, and we’ll need to give it a really good, firm tug -’

Like holy shit PLS how do you come up with these lines I am in agony (heaven)

The mid-rise jeans cut off beneath his belly button, and you eye the trail that sneaks full and dark under the waistband. He’s obviously sucking his tummy in, and you catch yourself wishing he doesn’t feel like he has to.

I am both horny and crying. 

Okay I’m literally struggling not to highlight every line in this story because OMG bestie you have such a magical (and naughty) way with words!!! Just too bloody goooooood! I’m so obsessed with their dynamic. Shy characters always have my heart (because that is so me lol). I just love to see big gruff man falls in love with shy girl like PLEASE I love them so much already. 😭😭😭

One big palm snakes down his front, right in your face, and he cups himself through the denim.

Like seriously what are you doing to me???!!?

all you can think about is burying your nose right in there, nudging through the hair, lower and lower and lower still -

I’m literally in my grave OMFGGGGG

Well, to be fair, you were fine - until he grabs your left wrist, brings your hand up to his face and sucks your bleeding fingertip into his mouth. 

The way I GASPED bestie. You have exceeded all expectations!!

‘Stop putting yourself down.’

But seriously I love how she stops him! Like I would never let that man say I bad thing about himself!!! You really nailed it her bestie. The way you balance the line between comedy and heartfelt emotion is so so so spectacular. I’m truly in awe. 

Trust you to write an entire beautiful, thought-out and well-rounded story completely revolving around Mr Joel Miller’s bulge. Hats off to you my lady. Truly blessed our minds with your magical words again! What a treat! ☺️❤️

Seams

Joel Miller x F!Reader

{ Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Part II: Threads }

Rating: M

Summary: Joel has a problem. Having settled into some semblance of a 'normal' life in Jackson that no longer involves running for his life and living off scraps, his clothes are getting a little… tight. Self-conscious, he deals with it the way he does most things - he ignores it.

That is until one day, the zipper on his jeans finally gives up after one too many desperate tugs, leaving him stuck. With neither Tommy nor Ellie anywhere to be found to get him out of the tight spot, Joel begrudgingly heads to the clothing store he’s seen in town for help - and a new pair of jeans.

There, he meets you.

Warnings: Spicy thoughts, sexual tension, sexual innuendos, body insecurity, some language, Joel being unkind to himself, shy!reader, reader has a nickname related to her job, soft!Joel, no use of Y/N

Word count: 6k

Notes: I haven't written anything this fast for a hot minute. It's both exciting and terrifying, especially as Joel is so new to the fandom. So this is a one-shot as it stands, but I'll be lying if I say I haven't thought about where this story can go. Please be gentle with me, Joel is easily the most intimidating Pedro boy I've written for so far. I hope this doesn't disappoint 🥺

‘TommmMMMMMYYYY!’

His voice echoes in the empty street, gruff with irritation. He can feel eyes on him - he always does, wherever he goes in this damn place - covert stares from behind curtains, peeking out of windows from the neighbouring houses.

The polished wood thumps hollowly under his fist. Head bowed in surrender, his forehead makes contact with the surface of the door with a dull thud.

‘Fuck,’ he mutters under his breath.

Trudging back to the house that’s been allocated to him - he still struggles to think of it as his - he slams the door shut behind him so hard that the sound rings in his ears. Well, more in his left than his right.

Tossing the keys onto a chest of drawers in the hallway, he yells in a last-ditch attempt, ‘Ellieeee!’

The house is silent.

The one time he needs either of them, neither can be found anywhere. Even Maria has made herself scarce - not that he’d ask her for help for this.

This being these stupid fucking jeans. 

His trusty jeans that he’s worn for years, other than on laundry days, which were few and far in between. They’ve literally seen him through thick and thin - the knees are so worn he can almost see the web of white thread beneath the denim.

Tess had gotten him these jeans. Stole them, if he remembers correctly. Once upon a time, he needed a belt to hold them up, or they’d hang down to his ass crack. By the time Ellie came into the picture, they fit well enough to render the belt redundant. He could still easily fit things into his pockets though, like a map or a switchblade.

But now - 

Now he’s stuck, and he can’t get them off.

If he’s being honest with himself, the jeans haven’t fit for months. The jobs in Jackson don’t come anywhere close to the backbreaking work in the QZ or being on the road with Ellie. The food is plentiful even during the harsh winter, and as much as he looks down his ideological nose at it, Maria deserves credit for the thriving commune.

He had a late start this morning. Ellie had already vacated the house by the time he came to. He was on autopilot, distracted by his thoughts about the porch steps that have rotted and need to be replaced. 

He was making plans in his head to nip down to the workshop to get the wooden planks when he started getting dressed. Stepping into the legs of the jeans, he pulled them up, hopping to stretch them over his thighs. Out of habit, he sucked in his belly to button them up, the waistband seemingly even tighter than usual. 

He relegated that to the back of his mind, the same way he’s ignored the fact that the jeans have been uncomfortably tight for months - to the point of hindering his movement when he lays bricks, or cuts off his breathing when he sits down. But he’s gotten used to it, like he does everything else. He’s Joel Miller with the stiff upper lip, after all.

The zipper was next. As usual, he met resistance about halfway up. Baring his teeth, he gripped the tongue of the zipper and yanked upwards. 

Except this time, it didn’t budge. Grumbling, he pulled harder, feeling the burn in his biceps -

It happened so quickly that he wasn’t even aware until he was wheeling backwards from the force, his arm flying up in an arc - and a metallic clink behind him registered faintly in his good ear. 

Disoriented, he glanced down at the zipper. The slider had come clean off.

‘Fuck,’ he swore and turned to the full-length mirror on the wall to inspect the damage. Running an experimental finger along the seam, it was clear that the zipper had somehow snagged on the denim. It was stuck. Dead stuck.

Turning the house inside out, he couldn’t find a single pair of scissors, and there isn’t enough space to fit a knife in without slicing himself open, at which point he left on his ultimately fruitless search for reinforcement.

Joel scrubs a tired hand down his face. He’s never been a vain guy - Tommy is that sibling. But he’s never needed to stress about his looks either, with contracting keeping him in shape before the outbreak, and the fight for survival after - until now.

Grabbing his jacket, he shrugs it on, hyper-conscious of whether it’s a tighter squeeze than usual (fortunately not) - and heads into town.

Main Street Outfitters, the only clothing store in Jackson, sits in the middle of the high street, sandwiched between the pub on one side and the welder’s on the other. For the most part, residents come in to trade in old clothes for new ones, but there’s also a nicer selection for the occasional party that one can barter for.

You’re in the workshop at the back, the afternoon sun filling the room through the skylight. 

With your skill in thread and needle, you were the obvious candidate for the job when you arrived in Jackson. Over the years, it has become your sanctuary. The walls are lined with wooden shelves, where neat - though mismatched - boxes of buttons, trimmings, thread and trinkets slot perfectly into place.

You spend the days checking over incoming clothes after they come back from the laundry, making sure they are in reasonable condition and mending those that are not. The shop also charges for adjustments and repairs, and the tasks easily fill your working hours.

It’s a Tuesday, and it’s usually quiet this time of the afternoon. If you’re lucky, you can be undisturbed until you clock off at five - which is why you’re surprised when you hear the tinkle of the doorbell.

The footfall is heavy, it sounds like a strong work boot. You hold your breath and your fingers hover mid-air as the door shuts with a slam. You hear the customer clear his throat - definitely a man - as you wait in vain for the front of house to greet him.

But of course Lucy has sneaked out again. She’s a sweet girl, but manning the counter has always been too dull for her.

‘Hello?’

The voice is deep and gravelly, and despite your reluctance, it doesn’t sit well with your work ethic to keep a customer waiting. Sticking the needle into a pin cushion, you noiselessly rise from your seat and make your way to the front of the shop.

Your first glimpse of him is his back. Standing in front of a rack of jeans, the grays in his hair catch the light streaming through the shop front windows. You study him for a minute, curious eyes running over the width of broad shoulders under a beat-up, khaki jacket. Lower, his jeans are… well-worn, to put it kindly. And from sight, a sitting a bit tight on his hips -

You must have shifted your feet without you noticing. At the minutest creak of wood, the man whips around, one hand reaching behind him in search of the butt of a loaded gun or the hilt of a knife. It’s your good fortune that you see neither on him. The intensity of his gaze is just as effective as a blade on your neck to pin you to your spot.

There’s no question that he’s a newcomer. You’ve seen the same kind of intensity in everyone who’s braved what’s out there to get here.

But even if that didn’t give him away, you already know who he is. He’s Tommy’s brother. Joel, if you remember correctly. Maria approached you for some clothes a few months back when he arrived with his kid for the second time. They’ve been the talk of town since - not that you listen. In fact, you try not to, but you can’t help it if someone talks loudly enough at the next table in the canteen to interrupt your lunchtime reading.

‘Sorry,’ he mumbles as the tension in his body recedes. ‘You’re very quiet.’

You duck your head. ‘Sorry.’

‘You work here?’

Wringing your fingers nervously, you nod and take two timid steps towards him, hoping he doesn’t hear the tremour in your voice. ‘How can I help?’

You’ve heard things about Joel Miller. The words most frequently whispered as he ambles by in town include ruthless, cold-blooded and steer clear.

You can’t exactly reconcile the man in front of you with those particular words right now.

There’s nothing that speaks to ruthlessness in the way he averts his eyes and shuffles his feet, the blunt tip of his shoes catching the wooden floor. You also find it hard to believe that a truly cold-blooded person would willingly cross the country and all its horrors in search of his brother, or take a teenager under his wing.

You might not think much of yourself, but you know that your judgement of character has kept you alive so far. And your instinct isn’t telling you to steer clear of this man - quite the opposite, in fact.

But that’s neither here nor there.

He rubs the back of his neck, uncomfortable with your scrutiny. ‘Just lookin’ for some new jeans.’

‘Alright,’ you reply, taking the remaining five steps to the other end of the jeans rack, a safe distance away from him. ‘What’s your size?’

To your surprise, he huffs a sardonic laugh. ‘At least one up from whatever I have on right now.’

Sucking in a breath, you gesture vaguely at him. ‘Um, do you mind if I take a look at uh - you? So I can guess what size will fit you?’

You’re used to being the most awkward person in the room wherever you go, but this man is  giving you a pretty good run for your money right now. While you divert your gaze as he unbuttons the front of his jacket, he fixes his somewhere over your shoulder to the right, grinding his teeth, as if he wishes he was anywhere but here.

Dragging your eyes back to him, you take stock of your customer as he sweeps the lapels of the jacket to the side. Underneath, the green flannel cuts off at the top of the jeans, and you see the soft pouch of his abdomen beneath the fabric. While the shirt is well-fitted, the jeans are obviously too small. The waistband bites into his sides, you can see the subtle overhang of his love handles. Even by the way he’s standing you can tell he’s uncomfortable, packed in way too tight in the denim.

And then… you really shouldn’t, but you stare at the front of the jeans. Now, you know for a fact that the fit will be just as snug there even if he goes a size up…

‘Sorry, not much to look at,’ he grunts, breaking the silence.

Taken aback by the self-derision in his voice, the words leave your mouth before they register, sharper than you mean them to be. ‘Don’t say that.’

He blinks at you. ‘What?’

You gape at him. Does he really not see? His tall, solid frame? The strong columns of his thighs? Is this man blind on top of being frustratingly attractive -?

But of course you can never say that. Instead, you pull out three different pairs of jeans in quick succession and all but throw them at him, heat prickling the tips of your ears as the disbelief that you spoke to a customer like that sinks in.

‘The dressing room is there,’ you squeak, pointing at the far corner. ‘I’ll be at the back if you need any help -’

You turn on your heels, in a hurry to get back to your workshop, but you only get halfway through the spin. It takes you three seconds to realise why - his calloused palm is on your wrist, holding you in place.

‘Actually, I do need help - I broke the zipper, and I’m stuck in these damn jeans.’

You ignore the clench of your stomach at the way he spits out the word damn. You’re not big on swearing, but the cuss word sounds good rolling off his tongue in his Southern twang.

To your horror, a giggle bubbles up your throat before you can slap a palm over your mouth.

‘I’m so, so sorry,’ you apologise profusely, heat flooding your cheeks. 

You stare in consternation when those broad shoulders of his quake, a half-smile on his lips as they part in a scratchy chuckle. ‘Trust me, I’m glad I found you first. My brother or my kid would have given me a much harder time. Probably would’ve pissed their pants laughin’.’

Despite yourself, you smile back with a weak attempt at a joke. ‘I mean, I’ll try not to -’

He smirks, the corners of his eyes crinkling. ‘That’s all I can ask for.’

You lead the way to the back of the shop and Joel follows three polite steps behind, pausing by the doorway. Running practised eyes over the space, the contractor in him appreciates the well-built skylight and the sturdy furniture in the room, pieces that were clearly built to last. He places the jeans you picked out for him on the big work table, made of strong timber and aged with time. 

He picked up a change in your demeanour the moment you crossed the threshold into the workshop. There’s a quiet confidence in your measured steps, the way you move speaking volumes - this is clearly your place, and you’re so much more comfortable in your skin here.

You point at the spot marked by a round, cosy rug directly beneath the skylight. ‘Could you stand there for me?’

Doing as he’s told, he startles when you march straight up to him, sliding your palms under the shoulders of his jacket to push it off. Your front brushes his chest briefly when you reach around to catch it, but not brief enough for him to ignore the soft swell of your breasts pressed up against him.

Joel is all too aware of his pulse going from zero to a hundred at the fleeting touch, the collar of his shirt suddenly a bit too tight. For fuck’s sake, Miller. It’s been an embarrassingly long time since his head has gone anywhere near there, but of course it has to happen at the most inconvenient moment.

At least you don’t seem to notice, draping his jacket over the back of a chair before retrieving a pair of tailor’s scissors from one meticulously organised drawer.

Just when he thinks he’s gotten a handle on himself, you hit him with a non-sequitur. ‘Are you wearing underwear?’

Only when Joel splutters wordlessly does the full weight of the question seem to hit you. You stutter, ‘Oh god, I didn’t - I mean - I only asked because if push comes to shove, and I have to cut through the jeans, I don’t want to ruin any underwear you’re wearing -’

You trail off, and it’s his turn to stammer, scratching an invisible itch on his elbow as he struggles to remember what he usually does with his hands.

‘No, no, I get it. I’m ahem -,’ he pauses with a cough. ‘I’m not actually wearin’ any underwear right now. Not out of habit, it’s just that I’ve been barely squeezin’ into the stupid jeans even without it.’

His honest answer seems to put you at ease, and you purse your lips. ‘Sounds uncomfortable.’

He shrugs. ‘Have been for months.’

‘I’m sorry.’

He arches an eyebrow. ‘What for?’

‘That you’ve been uncomfortable. That’s one thing clothes shouldn’t be.’

Not quite knowing how to answer you, he watches you grab a velvet cushioned footstool from under the work table and place it squarely at his feet. Then, without further preamble, you sink onto your knees in front of him, knocking the air clean out of his lungs.

As he stares down at the crown of your head, your nose at the level of his waistband, he muses that he hasn’t seen this view for a long time, a very long time. His fingers twitch at his sides, and he closes his eyes, fighting the base instinct to cup the back of your head in his palm and to pull you close -

He breathes out hard through his nostrils and clenches his jaw, casting his gaze heavenwards through the skylight as he actually prays for the first time in years.

Don’t you fucking dare get hard, Miller.

You chew on the inside of your mouth as you consider what’s before you. It’s tricky. The jeans are unbuttoned and zipped up most of the way, but the denim has been caught tight in the metallic teeth, and the handle of the zipper yanked clean off.

Cocking your head to one side, you think out loud. ‘I think we should at least try and unsnag the zipper before cutting. But we’re going to need some lubrication, and we’ll need to give it a really good, firm tug -’

The man chokes on nothing above you, and you frown up at him in a question.

Clearing his throat loudly, he asks through gritted teeth, ‘Do we have to?’

‘I mean, I can just cut open the jeans, but then you’ll definitely have to trade in something extra to cover the costs of the repairs -’

He interrupts, ‘That. Let’s do that.’

‘Alright, your call,’ you say with a nod. ‘Can you hold up your shirt?’

You try not to gawk when he draws up the tails of his flannel, revealing his soft stomach underneath. The mid-rise jeans cut off beneath his belly button, and you eye the trail that sneaks full and dark under the waistband. He’s obviously sucking his tummy in, and you catch yourself wishing he doesn’t feel like he has to.

You bite your bottom lip. ‘Do you think you can fit a couple of fingers into the waistband so I can slide the scissors in? They’re sharp, I don’t want to cut you.’

You watch as he tries, first his index finger, then his middle, but he can barely squeeze in beyond the nail, which turns completely colourless from the pressure. He sighs in surrender. ‘Mfraid you’ll have to, sweetheart.’

You have to close your eyes for a moment, your head swimming. You’re not sure whether it’s from the sweetheart, or the fact that he wants you to stick your hand down the front of his pants. 

Well, not exactly that he wants you to. And not your hand. But still.

You squeak. ‘Do I have to?’

He pins you a sarcastic arch of his eyebrows. ‘Well, if you’re sure that you won’t cut my dick off -’

Your face heats up at his blunt words, falling back onto your haunches. ‘Great, now you’ve got me worried -’

Palms up in apology, he shrugs. ‘Sorry -’

‘No, no, you’re right. I don’t want to accidentally castrate you,’ you sigh. ‘Are you - um - well adjusted in there?’

‘I’d go down the right side of the zipper,’ he answers diplomatically.

Taking a deep breath, you ask, ‘Ready?’

‘Whenever you are, sweetheart.’

The first contact is the brush of your knuckles against his stomach, the skin warm and soft on the back of your fingers. You don’t dare look up, but you can feel his eyes on you as you burrow your index finger under the waistband. Though it’s a squeeze, you manage to wriggle in nail side down, creating a small gap - still not quite enough to get the scissors in without nicking him.

Talking more to yourself, you mumble, ‘Better safe than sorry. Let me just get one more finger in -’

Joel chokes so hard that you almost jump back in fright, frowning at him as he catches his breath. ‘Are you okay? Do you need some water?’

His voice tight, he shakes his head. ‘No, I’m fine.’

You wait a beat to make sure he doesn’t go into another coughing fit. When the coast is clear, you gesture at his jeans. ‘Can I just -’ 

‘Get one more finger in?’ he finishes your sentence in his raspy baritone. 

You finally hear it when he says it like that. And oh god, your ears burn as you stare up at him, lips parted, torn between outrage and a very disorienting arousal. ‘You - you -’

A wicked smirk tugs unexpectedly at the corner of his mouth. ‘I already tried, sweetheart. My fingers are too big to fit inside.’

The touch of playful condescension in his tone has your jaw going slack, and your brain practically short-circuits at the thoughts of where else they are too big to fit inside of -

So as it turns out, you’re brave, or just downright stupid, when you’re turned on. Next thing you know, you hear yourself telling him off. ‘I could just leave you in those jeans you know.’

Joel smiles wider, and retorts, ‘I don’t think you would.’

‘Just because I’m shy doesn’t mean I don’t have a mean streak,’ you shoot back.

He seems pleased to have lured you out of your shell, grinning down at you. ‘Believe me, I’m shakin’ in my boots, sweetheart.’

It’s really unfair that he looks this good from where you are on your knees. His eyes are hooded, curls flecked with grays sweeping his forehead. Even though the apocalypse has left its marks on him in wrinkles, frown lines, and smudged bags under his eyes, it has clearly not taken away from that proud nose or plush lips -

Steadying yourself with a deep inhale, you shake yourself out of it. With an in, it’s slightly easier to push in your middle finger into the waistband to widen the gap. Happy with the quarter inch of space, you hold up the scissors. ‘I’m ready to cut if you are.’

He nods his acquiesce. ‘Do your worst.’

Opening up the scissors and carefully fitting the blade beneath the denim, you carefully begin snipping away. They are sharp, but the fabric is tough and you’re conscious of the very tight fit, so you take it slow.

You pause when you’re a couple of inches in, when Joel lets out a groan of relief. Absent-mindedly, you run a soothing thumb over the angry, red indents the waistband dug into the soft pouch of his tummy, sending a shudder through him. 

‘Sorry,’ you squeak, snatching back your hand as if he burns you. 

Too preoccupied with the relief of being able to breathe, Joel shakes his head. ‘Don’t be. Just keep going. Please.’ 

Why is that one word - six letters - making your breath hitch?

Gripping the top of the now open fly and pinning it against his body so you don’t accidentally see anything you’re not meant to see - whether you want to deliberately is a completely different matter - you hunker down and keep cutting along the zipper. 

Each snip gets easier as the jeans release their death grip on him. The right side of the fly falls away as you cut, the denim peeling back slowly to expose the skin underneath. Your eyes drift to the curve of the pubic bone that’s now completely in view, and it’s taking everything you have to not lean over and run the broad of your tongue along it -

How long has it been since you’ve been with a man? When was the last time you had someone stand before you, pants unzipped and hanging open -

With tremendous fortitude, you tear your eyes away to check on him, ‘All good?’

The grunt of respite that he lets out is almost guttural, going straight between your legs. ‘Feels so fuckin’ good to breathe.’

‘Before I keep going, do you want to - uh - rearrange yourself?’

You expect him to turn around, or at least give you a second to turn around to give him some privacy, but he’s obviously been too deprived of oxygen to think straight. One big palm snakes down his front, right in your face, and he cups himself through the denim.

You stop breathing, eyes wide as he adjusts himself. 

Holy fuck.

When he’s done, he gives you a thumbs up. ‘All good.’

This is it. You’re not making it out of this alive.

You can barely get the words out, your throat suddenly drier than sandpaper. ‘Can you, um, hold up the other side of the fly?’

When he does, you stare at his hand next to yours. How is it so big? The veins are prominent on the back, leading down to thick fingers, the nails neatly trimmed and clean - but you bet there’s residue gunpowder underneath.

There’s still a slither of skin peeking through the V of the fly as the scissors slice through the denim, following his happy trail. The lower you go, the thicker and darker the curls, and goddamnit - what is wrong with you - all you can think about is burying your nose right in there, nudging through the hair, lower and lower and lower still -

A sharp pain on your left finger makes you yelp, the scissors falling from your other hand to the floor with a loud clang. A small bead of blood wells up on the tip where the sharp blade nicked it, and in a panic, you let go of his jeans.

‘Shit,’ Joel curses and covers himself up quickly, his brow furrowed in concern. ‘You okay?’

You nod in embarrassment while you get on your feet. ‘I - my hand just slipped. It’s nothing, the smallest cut, I’m fine -’

Well, to be fair, you were fine - until he grabs your left wrist, brings your hand up to his face and sucks your bleeding fingertip into his mouth. 

As if it’s the logical thing to do.

Your knees buckle, and you collapse into his front, but he doesn’t even budge, as if you weigh nothing. Taking a deep breath - wood smoke, simple soap and man fill your lungs. Peering up at him through your lashes, you spot the silver flanking the hinge of his jaw, leading down to a peculiar bare patch on the left side of his beard.

He watches you back as he releases your finger with a wet pop. Tracing his bottom lip with his tongue, he pronounces, ‘Just a small cut. You’ll live.’

Will you though? Because it feels like you’re on the verge of expiring from breathlessness. 

He glances down at his front, which he’s still holding up. ‘I guess I can get out of these now.’

It takes you three seconds to catch up before you stumble backwards. ‘Yes, of course. Sorry.’

‘Thank you for freeing me,’ he says with a lopsided smile.

You duck your head, unable to meet his gaze all of a sudden - hypocrite, you had no problem perving on him a minute ago - and nod at the jeans on the table. ‘Why don’t you try those on?’

He clears his throat. ‘I, uh, should probably put on some underwear first.’

You barely manage to hold back from smacking yourself on the forehead. ‘Of course. We do have some in stock. Boxers or briefs?’

He looks amused. ‘What do you think, sweetheart?’

You hesitate, but you force yourself to be brave and venture a guess. ‘Boxers.’

He winks, and you grin back.

Joel hovers uncertainly in front of the mirror in the fitting room, having exhausted all the angles he can see twice, and wonders if he’s been dithering for too long. He’s not even sure what he’s looking at anymore, so he bites the bullet and draws back the curtain.

‘How do they feel?’ you ask.

He was counting on some hint from you, but you give nothing away. So he shrugs, hands on hips. ‘I honestly can’t tell you.’

‘May I?’

At his nod, you step into his space, and he watches as you hook your fingers into the belt loops on either side of the jeans and pull them up, as if gauging the size. He holds his breath as your hair grazes the front of his chest.

‘They’re a bit loose, to be honest,’ you tell him.

He scoffs self-decrepatingly. ‘Probably not for long at the rate I’m going.’

You take a step back and level him with a glare. ‘Stop it.’

He frowns, hackles rising. ‘What?’

‘Stop putting yourself down.’

That he didn’t expect. He protests, ‘I’m not putting myself down -’

‘Yes, yes, you are,’ you interrupt him with a boldness that has his eyebrows reaching for his hairline. With fire in your eyes, you go toe to toe with him, poking him in the chest with a firm finger. ‘You’re alive, you’re safe here, and you’re fit as hell. If you’re going to make fun of yourself for putting on a bit of healthy weight, you can go ahead and get out of my shop.’

Warmth blooms in his chest as Joel stares down at you, breathing heavily after your little speech but showing no intention of backing down. You don’t know him, but for some reason, you’re fighting his corner.

That shouldn’t feel as good as it does.

Pursing his lips, he towers over you as he teases, ‘You think I’m fit as hell, sweetheart?’

With a roll of your eyes, you walk backwards to the shelves, rummaging through the sizes before returning with a pair of dark wash jeans. You quip, ‘Don’t fish for compliments, it’s unbecoming.’

You snap the curtain shut in his face with a flick of your wrist before he can answer, and he chuckles to himself as pulls on the jeans you picked out for him.

When he pushes open the curtain again, Joel doesn’t miss the way you pause as you stare.

The waistband sits on his hips without cutting into his stomach, and he’s pleased that he can comfortably slide his hands into the pockets. The denim wraps firmly, but not tightly, against his backside, holding his thighs comfortably and falling straight down to the ankles. The wash is dark and flattering, smarter than his old ones.

When the silence has stretched on long enough, Joel shifts on his feet and asks, ‘Well?’

You turn the question back at him. ‘What do you think?’

He shrugs. ‘They’re alright, I guess.’

With a tilt of your head, you prompt, ‘You can say it, you know.’

‘Say what?’

‘You can say that you look good.’

Joel huffs, shaking his head and catching his reflection in the mirror as he does. At your look of insistence, he reluctantly parrots back, ‘Alright. I look good. Happy, sweetheart?’

Then you smile, really smile, and he feels himself soften - his eyes, his face, his mouth, his fucking old, rickety knees -

Suddenly, the bell over the door rings and a woman bustles in. ‘I’m so sorry, Pin! I know I’ve been gone a long time, but I got your favourite tea to make it up to you -’

She stops abruptly when she spots him. ‘Hey! You’re Joel Miller, aren’t you?’

Before he can answer, she crosses the shop in a bundle of energy, sticking her hand out. ‘I’m Lucy, I’m a friend of Tommy and Maria’s. It’s so nice to finally meet you.’

He lets her shake his hand, then she continues without skipping a beat. ‘How are you settling in? You got that house in the street near the stables right? It’s great, it’s quiet but not too far from everything -’

Since she doesn’t seem interested in his participation in this conversation, he doesn’t. But he notices, with regret, the way you start to retreat, the shyness making a return in the shadow of her clearly more outgoing friend - like a bad habit.

He’s suddenly aware of a lull, and that Lucy is looking at him expectantly, like she’s just asked a question that he didn’t hear.

‘Yeah sure,’ he replies dismissively, stopping you with a hand on your wrist just as you try to slink away unnoticed. ‘Hey, wait a second -’

To Lucy’s credit, she picks up on the snub and the energy between the two of you at the same time. Instead of taking offence, she gives you a knowing look and points towards the back diplomatically. ‘You know what Pin, I just bumped into Maria and she asked me something about our fabric inventory, so I better go check it out. I’ll see you around, Joel.’

With a wink in your direction, Lucy makes herself scarce, leaving the tea on the counter for you.

Joel’s quiet for a beat when you’re left alone again. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to run off your friend, but I just wanted to uh - thank you. For all this.’ He pauses, then adds, ‘Like she said, I’m Joel. Probably should’ve introduced myself before I asked you to cut me out of my jeans.’

You quip, ‘There’s always next time.’

He chuckles, and asks, ‘Did your friend just call you - Pin?’

‘It’s just a silly nickname,’ you explain. ‘As in pins and needles, for obvious reasons.’

Then you give him your real name and your hand, his palm warm and calloused against yours as he shakes it firmly. When he lets you go, you notice the watch on his wrist, the veins of broken glass on the face catching the light. 

Nodding at it, you ask, ‘Do you need that fixed? There’s a repair guy down the road who can fix anything.’

Confused for a moment about what you’re referring to, Joel pauses before realisation dawns on him. His answer is suddenly polite, a stark contrast to the light-hearted conversation just now. ‘No, I - I like it this way. But thanks.’

You don’t miss the emotional weight behind his words, and the air thickens with unspoken meaning, but you know better than to ask. 

‘I understand,’ you say simply.

Everyone has something like the watch is to him. God knows you do. A moment of quiet understanding passes between you, one that needs no words.

Breaking the silence, he says, ‘So, you mentioned I’ll need to trade in something else for these jeans -’

You dismiss that notion with a wave of your hand. ‘Oh no, it’s ok. I got it.’

‘You don’t have to -’

You shut him down. ‘It’s not a big deal, it will take me two minutes to replace the zipper.’

He hesitates. ‘And the boxers -’

Passing him his jacket, you insist, ‘Seriously, Joel, don’t worry about it.’

His fingers brush yours when he takes it from you and shrugs it on. You try not to look too conspicuously when the bottom of his shirt draws up, flashing a bit of tummy, but it’s gone too quickly. With a nod, he concedes reluctantly, ‘You really shouldn’t, but thank you. I owe you one.’

You roll your eyes with no real exasperation as you walk him towards the exit. ‘I know you haven’t been here for long - that’s just how things work around these parts. We do things for each other, you don’t owe me anything.’ Pulling the door open, you give him one last grin. ‘Welcome to Jackson, Joel.’

‘Thanks, Pin,’ he says as he crosses the threshold. He pauses on the porch and looks around the high street slowly, as if he’s taking it in for the first time. He then turns to you with a parting wink that is charged with easy confidence. ‘I think I’ll like it here.’

You linger by the door, leaning against the frame as he jogs down the front steps with a swagger, watching in appreciation at the way his new jeans frame his backside. You smile when he slides his hands into his pockets as he walks away, the afternoon breeze ruffling his curls and the sun warming his broad shoulders.

You think you’ll like him here as well.

Notes: As I was writing this, I couldn't help thinking that it reminded me of Grays 🙈 What can I say? I want to give middle-aged men in need of self-love all the reassurance that they need. I hope you enjoyed Pin and Joel's meet-cute, I'm honestly so nervous about this fic I had to stop myself from compulsively over-editing.

Thank you so much for reading! Comments and reblogs are appreciated as always 🥰

P.S. Apparently, there is a Main Street Outfitter in the game, so I ran with it.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

[ash5monster01]

I just wanted to let you know I love Lifetime Tour. It’s the perfect amount of small heartfelt one shots told through Billy Joel songs and I adore it. I see you haven’t gotten a lot of feedback and I just wanted to let you know that I obsessed and I can’t wait for the next part 🩵

you have absolutely no idea how much this means to me.

Lifetime Tour is the first series on here I’ve really written and have barely gotten a comment let alone asks about it so this is so nice 😭

Thank you so much for enjoying it and sharing these kind words with me. It’s stuff like this that really keeps a writer going and I’m glad you’ve loved it so far.

Lifetime Tour was never meant to be a long and in depth story, just a collection of moments in a Lifetime of happiness. I can’t wait to share more ❤️

[stylesispunk]

"I couldn't want you anymore" | part 11

Artist! Joel Miller x Florist! Reader

Series masterlist | previous chapter | next chapter

summary: when Sarah's mom comes back into Joel's life to fight for their past relationship, Joel needs to convince her he is in a happy relationship with the florist next to his gallery in order to make her go away. The problem is, that he and the florist can't stand each other's guts or that it's what he thinks.

warning: age gap (8 years), bee is the reader's nickname, angst, fluff, mentions of blood, not proofreading.

a/n: Chapter 11 is here! This one is 7k, so please give it love.Next chapter will be the last one so get ready for it. Thanks a lot for your comments and support, Reblogs and comments are appreciated. <3

masterlist

You knew this moment was going to arrive, but it didn’t make you feel less excited. In fact, this was finding out what your baby was going to be made you heart clenched in love.

Joel had started to rub your tommy with a scent oil he bought thinking about you, enjoying the feeling of your now popped belly under the touch of their fingertips. He knew that showering you in love what something you needed, not only because he wanted to show you the feeling, but because the only thought of the baby growing inside of you filled him with so much joy and happiness. He had to let you and this baby how much he loved you.

So, when he listened to the doctor asking you both if you wanted to know the baby’s gender, he beamed at you, mouth wide open waiting for your answer.

“Congratulations,” your doctor said, as she looked at the scan device “It’s a boy”

It’s a boy, said the voice in his head. I’m having a baby boy with my bee.

He saw you moving your mouth, saying something to him, but all he hears was a ringing noise, while the possibilities of name you had yet to discuss bounced inside his head. He was going to have a baby boy and it took him some more seconds to come back down from his own nine cloud.

“Rowan” Joel said, a wide smile on his face

“What?” you asked, tears streaming from your eyes thought you were laughing.

“We can call him Rowan” he spoke “because of the rowan tree”

You beamed at him, “I love it” you laughed as you reached for his face, savoring the warmth of his skin under your touch. You wiped the tears falling down his checks, comforting him.

“I love you” he spoke, kissing your hand “And I love you baby Rowan” he said to your bump.

As the weeks went by, the sense of anticipation grew within you. The news had brough a different kind of glow to you and you seemed happier than ever, and how couldn’t you? Ever since you found the gender of the baby everyone seemed to be delighted by it. From Sarah to your friends to your families, all the were eager to contribute to the joyous atmosphere, sharing in the excitement of welcoming baby Rowan.

Lily, with her creativity was the you were familiar with, took charge of organizing a small baby shower for you.

“Don’t you think is too early for this?” you asked through you laughing. 

“You are almost 5 months now. Of course, I’m celebrating you and my great son”

“Who told you are going to be his grandmother?” Joel’s voice asked in a playful tone, interrupting your conversation with Lily.

“Ugh. I’m sorry baby bee “Lily leaned down and whispered to your belly “Your daddy is a bully”

“Don’t say bad things about me to my son”

You chuckled at the playful banter between Joel and Lily. The baby shower, although smaller in scale, was a heartfelt celebration filled with love and laughter. The flower shop was adorned with delicate blue decorations, and a sweet aroma of fresh flowers wafted through the air.

Close friends and family gathered to share in the joy of welcoming baby Rowan. Sarah, who had been eagerly awaiting the arrival of her baby brother, was buzzing with excitement. She proudly helped Lily arrange the flowers and insisted on being your helper throughout the celebration.

As the guests arrived, they brought with them well-wishes, thoughtful gifts, and words of wisdom for the journey into parenthood, especially to you since this was going to be your first baby. The place was filled with joy, and you couldn't help but feel grateful for the love and support surrounding your growing family.

“God, you look so beautiful with this dress,” Joel said as he hugged you from behind, hands on your tummy. “I didn’t get to see you wearing it this morning”

“Yes, because you let me sleep pass my alarm and I got late for work” you answered, leaning into his embrace.

“I know you’re been more tired lately” he said, placing his lips on your hair, kissing your head.

You sighed contentedly, relishing in Joel's warmth and affection. His gentle kisses on your hair sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn't help but feel a deep sense of comfort in his embrace.

"Maybe I've been tired because someone kept me up last night," you teased, turning around to face him with a playful smile.

Joel raised an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Oh, really? And who might that be?"

You chuckled, placing a hand on his chest. "I think you know exactly who I'm talking about, mister."

He grinned, leaning down to capture your lips in a sweet kiss. The warmth of his touch and the softness of his lips against yours made the weariness of the day melt away. In that moment, it was just the two of you, wrapped up in the shared anticipation of becoming parents.

As you pulled away from the kiss, Joel rested his forehead against yours. "You know, I can't wait to meet our little guy," he whispered, his voice filled with a mixture of excitement and tenderness.

"Me neither," you replied, your hand finding its way to your growing belly. "I wonder what he'll be like."

Joel chuckled, "Knowing you, he'll probably be just as stubborn and amazing as his mom."

You playfully swatted his arm. "Hey, I can't argue with the amazing part."

He laughed, pulling you into another hug.

“Oh! Young love” a voice interrupted your embrace with Joel.

“Mrs. Green. Good morning” you said, pulling away from Joel’s hug “What do you need today?”

“I let you both to be” Joel said, planting a kiss on your lips before heading out “Bye love, bye Mrs. Green”

"Ah, you two," she mused, her eyes twinkling.

"How can I help you today?" you asked, returning your attention to her.

As she browsed the flowers, she couldn't resist asking about your pregnancy. "How's everything going, dear? Pregnancy just suits you so well"

You shared the excitement you felt about the upcoming arrival of baby Rowan. Mrs. Green's eyes softened as she listened, her own memories of motherhood flooding back.

"You know, dear, I remember when I was pregnant. It was a magical time, but it also brought its own set of challenges."

Intrigued, you looked up from your work, inviting her to share her story.

"I felt beautiful and powerful carrying a life inside me," she began, "but as the months went by, I started to feel insecure. It was as if my body was no longer my own, and I was solely defined by the pregnancy. I began to question if my husband still saw me beyond the baby bump."

Her words resonated with the unspoken fears that had occasionally crept into your own thoughts.

"He was thrilled about becoming a father, and I felt a bit lost in the shadow. It's easy to get consumed by the changes and forget that you are still the woman your partner fell in love with," she continued, a knowing smile on her face.

As she spoke, you couldn't help but feel a sense of fear as she kept talking to you.

"And, dear," Mrs. Green added, her tone turning more serious, "I've seen your boyfriend spending time with that gorgeous artist at the gallery. It's important to take care of your relationship, especially during these times."

“Oh no! It’s nothing like that. They are working together, it’s a kind of group of artists wanting to have their work in his gallery” you said, not paying attention to the nagging feeling settling in your stomach.

"I see, dear. It's important to trust each other and maintain open communication," she advised, her eyes reflecting a mixture of empathy and wisdom. "Sometimes, even the most innocent situations can lead to- “

“You shouldn’t be saying those kind of things”

Lauren’s voice interrupted the conversation between you and Mrs. Green from continuing.

“Lauren is not important” you said interfering.

“No, sorry but I can see is bothering you, don’t you see it Mrs. green?”

“You know what?” Mrs. Green said, completely ignoring Lauren “I’m coming later when your shop is less crowded” Mrs. green said, heading out before you could even respond.

You looked at Lauren standing in front of you, only the counter between you.

“Are you okay?” she asked, concerned.

“Yes, thank you” you smiled.

“I-I’m actually…You know what? I know I’m not the right person to say this but, don’t overthink.”

“I’m not”

“I don’t even know you and I know you’re doing it” she spoke “When I came back for him you both were pretending you were together only for make me go away, and he was already head over heals for you, why would be different now?”

“I’m having a baby with him, my body is changing, I’m moody a-and and what if he gets tired”

“He is obsessed with you, with or without a baby. I know him, and sharing a daughter with him is enough for me to know it."

“Oh my god” chuckled “We really do”

“But you know what’s the difference between you and me?”

You shook you head.

“You not only are giving him a baby, but the love he always deserved. I never could give that to him”

“Lauren-“

“Listen. He is an amazing man. Another person would never allow me to meet my daughter after what I did to them and he did it. He gave me a second chance to meet my daughter and I will be forever grateful for it, so the less I can do is helping the woman he loves”

You stood there, absorbing Lauren's words, feeling a mix of emotions – gratitude, reassurance, and a deep appreciation for the bond that had formed between you.

"Thank you, Lauren," you said, your voice filled with sincerity. "I appreciate your honesty and your support. It means a lot, especially during these uncertain times."

Lauren offered you a warm smile, leaning over the counter as if to bridge the physical distance between you. "Just remember, you're not alone in this. Joel is a good man, and he chose you. Don't let unnecessary doubts cloud the joy of what you're building together."

“By the way, do you need something?”

“Oh right! Yes, I would like a bouquet”

In the evening, the next day, when the sun dipped below the horizon, and the cozy warmth of your home enveloped you. Joel and Sarah had been busy preparing for your night together as a family, and the sweet aroma of a home-cooked dinner wafted through the air.

As you settled in the living room, surrounded by the soft glow of candles, Joel couldn't help but be extra attentive. He fetched pillows for you, making sure you were comfortable on the couch, and ensured you had a cozy blanket to keep you warm. Sarah, having embraced her role as a big sister-to-be, sat beside you, taking care of you.

Joel brought out a carefully arranged bouquet of flowers. "I thought these might brighten up our evening," he said with a smile, placing the bouquet on the coffee table.

"Joel, you really didn't have to," you said, touched by his actions.

"I wanted to," he replied, his eyes filled with affection. "You deserve all the beautiful things in the world, especially during this time."

You smiled, even when the nagging thoughts play inside your mind.

As dinner unfolded, Joel treated to your every need. He refilled your water glass, ensured your plate was perfectly portioned, and even went as far as cutting up your food for you. Sarah watched the interaction with a mix of amusement at seeing her father so devoted to your well-being.

"Joel, you're spoiling me," you chuckled, feeling a warm sense of gratitude for the love surrounding you.

"I just want you to feel cherished," he replied, pressing a gentle kiss on your forehead.

The night continued with laughter, shared stories from the day, and the anticipation of the family growing even closer with the arrival of baby Rowan. Joel's attentiveness didn't wane; if anything, it intensified as the night fell.

As you all gathered in the cozy living room, Joel suggested a movie night. He carefully selected a film, ensuring it was one both you and Sarah would enjoy. Snuggled together under the blanket, Joel made sure you were comfortable, adjusting pillows and ensuring you had enough space.

The movie played, but Joel's attention remained on you. He subtly caressed your hand, his thumb tracing soothing circles. Every now and then, he stole glances, his eyes filled with affection and a touch of excitement.

As the credits rolled, Joel looked at you with a tender smile. "How are you feeling, Bee?"

"I'm feeling wonderful," you replied, your heart warmed by the love and care surrounding you.

"Good. That's all I want," he said, leaning in for a soft, peck in the lips.

.........

Once you lay under the covers of the bed. Joel held you close as if he hadn’t seen you in a year and mumbled, “I miss you” hiding his face on your neck.

“I was gone for 10 minutes.” You scoffed

“The longest 10 minutes of my life!” he said.

Joel's embrace tightened as if he never wanted to let go. You chuckled at his dramatic response, feeling the warmth of his affection.

"You're being a little dramatic, don't you think?" you teased, running your fingers through his hair.

He lifted his head from your neck, looking at you with a playful pout. "Well, when you're used to having you around all the time, even 10 minutes feels like an eternity."

You couldn't help but be touched by his sincerity. Snuggling closer, you whispered, "I missed you too, Joel. But I'm right here now."

He smiled, his eyes expressing a mix of love and contentment. "That's all that matters."

He started kissing your lips. The kiss was gentle at first, filled with tenderness and affection but as the kiss deepened, the outside world ceased to exist. The worries of your mind were replaced by the warmth increasing within you with Joel’s touch.

Every touch of his fingertips increased something inside her. She wanted to show him she was still the woman he fell in love with, and not only the mother of his child, so she kept kissing him wildly.

“I want you” you spoke, breathlessly, slipping your both arms around his neck, and holding him close.

Then, his shirt had come off and your sleep gown was on the floor. You placed yourself over him. You cupped his face as your thumbs caressed his face.

He gazed up at you “You’re so beautiful like this”

You kissed him again, your fingers tangled in his hair to deepen the kiss. Now you were drunk in love with him. His skin was slick with sweat, but then he suddenly pulled away,

“What happened?” You asked, worried.

“I’m worried. I don’t wanna hurt you” you sighed, falling next to him in bed.

“Oh my god,” you said, pulling away from him “It was because of pity”

“How the fuck I would kiss you out of pity?”

“Don’t curse!” you exclaimed “Because you hadn’t touched me in like a month”

Joel's eyes widened in surprise, and he looked at you with a mix of confusion and concern. "Bee, what are you talking about? Pity? That's the last thing on my mind."

You shifted in the bed, crossing your arms defensively. "Joel, we haven't been having sex for a while, and suddenly you start kissing me just for nothing.  It just felt... I don't know, like pity or obligation."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Bee, it's not like that. I haven't touched you because I wanted to be careful and considerate with the pregnancy. I didn't want to do anything that might make you uncomfortable or harm the baby. But tonight, I felt like we were in a good place, and I just wanted to be close to you."

You softened at his explanation, realizing that he had been trying to be mindful of your feelings. "Joel, I appreciate that, I really do. It's just, I want to feel desired, not pitied."

He reached out, gently cupping your cheek. "Love, you are desired. More than you can imagine. Pregnancy has made me even more aware of the incredible woman you are, and I don't want you to doubt that for a second."

You took a moment to think about Joel's words, the sincerity in his gaze calming the storm of emotions within you. His touch on your cheek felt reassuring, and you began to see the genuine concern he had for both you and the baby.

"I guess I let my insecurities get the best of me," you admitted, a small smile playing on your lips. "I just want us to be on the same page, especially with the baby coming."

Joel nodded, understanding in his eyes. "We will be, Bee. Let's talk about our feelings more, and we'll figure this out together. I love you, and I don't want you doubting that for a moment."

You nodded in agreement, feeling a weight lifting off your shoulders. The vulnerability you shared in that moment brought you closer, deepening the bond between you and Joel.

"Thank you for being patient with me," you whispered, leaning into his touch.

Joel pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. "Always, Bee. We're in this together, no matter what."

The next day,  Joel was out for a dinner meeting with the artists in preparation for the upcoming exhibition at his gallery. You and Sarah were at home, spending quality time together. Having dinner together and watching movies.

As you and Sarah chatted in the living room, a weird sensation caught your attention. A subtle cramp twinged in your lower stomach, and you instinctively winced, your hand resting on your belly.

"Are you okay, Bee?" Sarah asked, concern flickering in her eyes.

You forced a smile, trying to dismiss the discomfort. "Yeah, just some cramps. Probably nothing to worry about."

But as time passed, the cramps intensified, and a nagging worry settled in the pit of your stomach. You excused yourself to the bathroom, Sarah's concerned gaze following you.

Inside the bathroom, you took a deep breath, hoping the discomfort would subside. However, when you looked down, a wave of panic swept over you.

There was blood.

You felt a lump form in your throat, your hands trembling as you reached for your phone. You quickly dialed Joel's number, praying he would pick up.

But he didn’t. You tried calling him three more times, but there was no answer

Panic intensified as Joel's phone continued to go unanswered. With a shaky hand, called out for Sarah, your heart pounding in your chest. It only took her a few seconds to come to the bathroom.

"Sarah, something's wrong," you managed to say, your voice quivering. "I'm bleeding, and Your dad isn't answering his phone. I don't know what to do."

There was a moment of silence, and you could see Sarah's concern through her face. "Okay, Bee, Just try to stay calm. We need to get you to the hospital. Let me call my uncle”

Sarah quickly made the call to her Uncle Tommy, explaining the urgent situation. Within minutes, Tommy and Lily arrived at your home, their faces mirroring the concern etched on Sarah's.

They ran upstairs to help you get in the car and take you to the hospital.

"Hey, Bee, we're here for you," Tommy said, his voice gentle yet resolute.

Lily placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. "Sarah told us what's happening. Let's get you to the hospital. We'll take care of everything."

With their support, you were helped to the car, Sarah, Tommy, and Lily ensuring you were as comfortable as possible during the journey. The drive to the hospital was filled with tense silence, only interrupted by the occasional reassurances from Sarah and Lily who were holding your hands.

Upon arrival, Tommy parked the car as close to the entrance as possible. The emergency room staff was quick to respond, guiding you into a wheelchair and taking you inside for an immediate evaluation.

Sarah stayed by your side, holding your hand tightly. "Everything will be okay, Bee. They'll take care of you."

Inside the hospital, the medical team worked swiftly to assess your condition. Sarah, Tommy, and Lily were offering support and waiting anxiously for any updates. The atmosphere was tense, but their presence provided a sense of comfort amid the chaos.

After what felt like an eternity, a doctor approached with professional calm. "We're running some tests to understand the situation better. Please bear with us. We'll keep you informed."

Sarah, Tommy, and Lily took turns offering words of encouragement, their faces displayed worry and support.

Time seemed to stretch as you and your loved ones waited for the medical team'. The hospital's sterile scent and hushed conversations in the background only heightened the tension in the air. Sarah stayed close, her hand a constant source of comfort for you.

Finally, a nurse approached, her expression neutral yet professional. "We've conducted some tests, and the doctor will be with you shortly to discuss the results. Please try to remain calm."

Nervous glances were exchanged among you, Sarah, Tommy, and Lily. The waiting game continued, each passing minute feeling like an eternity.

When the doctor arrived, their face conveyed both seriousness and empathy. "We've identified the cause of the bleeding, and I want to assure you that we are closely monitoring the situation. But the most important thing is the baby is okay."

You took a deep breath, absorbing the information. Sarah squeezed your hand, her eyes reflecting relief for you and her baby brother. Tommy and Lily stood by, ready to offer support in any way they could.

Meanwhile, Joel sat at the dinner table with the group of artists and engaged in conversations about upcoming exhibitions, and the creative process. The atmosphere was lively, filled with the energy of passionate individuals coming together to share their love for art.

As he sipped his wine and participated in the discussions, his phone vibrated discreetly in his pocket. Glancing at the screen, he noticed several missed calls from you. A faint frown creased his forehead, but he chose to ignore the calls, assuming it might be something that could wait until he finished the dinner.

An hour later, his phone buzzed again. This time, it was a call from Tommy. Excusing himself from the table, Joel stepped into a quieter area to answer the call.

"Joel, you need to come to the hospital," Tommy's voice carried an urgency that immediately caught Joel's attention.

"What happened?" Joel's tone shifted, concern replacing the casual demeanor he had maintained at the dinner.

"It's Bee. Something happened,” Tommy explained, his words hitting Joel like a punch to the gut.

Fear gripped Joel's heart as he struggled to process the information. He quickly excused himself from the dinner, leaving the restaurant in a hurry. The drive home felt like an eternity, with thoughts of the worst-case scenarios racing through his mind.

When he arrived, the hospital was filled with an uneasy energy. He rushed inside, his steps echoing in the hallways. It was then that he learned the details of what had happened—the fear and the uncertainty.

Joel's worry escalated, and as he heard the story, the guilt of not answering the calls earlier gnawed at him. He hurried to be by your side, his heart heavy with concern and regret.

Once he spotted your room, he walked towards the door with a heavy heart, his worry intensifying with every step. Sarah and Tommy stood outside the room, their expressions a mix of concern and relief as they saw him approach.

"Dad," Sarah said, her voice a hushed whisper. "We're so glad you're here."

"What happened?" Joel's eyes darted between Sarah and Tommy, seeking answers.

Tommy explained the things that had happened in your absence the cramps, the trip to the hospital, and the agonizing wait for news about you and the baby. Joel's guilt deepened as he listened, the weight of not being there for you in those scary moments settling heavily on him.

Without another word, Joel entered the room, his eyes immediately finding you. Lily gave Joel a reassuring nod as she left the room, leaving the two of you alone.

"Bee," Joel whispered, rushing to your side, his voice filled with worry. "Are you okay? What happened?"

You looked up at him, your eyes welling with tears. The emotions that had been suppressed for hours burst forth as you saw Joel's face, your love for him, and the fear.

"I... I was bleeding, Joel," you managed to say, your voice quivering. "I tried calling you, but you didn't answer, and I was so scared."

Joel's eyes filled with regret as he took your hand, gently squeezing it. "I'm so sorry, Love. I should've been here. I should've answered my phone."

Tears streamed down your face, a mixture of fear, relief, and the overwhelming weight of the situation. Joel pulled you into a tight embrace, holding you close as if he could protect you from all the bad in the world.

“Ho-How is the baby?” he asked, carefully and scared of what the answer would be.

You kept crying but found some strength to tell him.

That’s it. He thought and his heart broke as the reality sank in his head.

“He is fine,” you said, voice trembling.

Relief flooded Joel's face as he heard the words. He held you, his hands gently framing your face as he wiped away your tears with his thumbs.

"He's fine," you repeated, your voice shaky but filled with a mix of gratitude and reassurance.

Joel pressed a tender kiss to your forehead before pulling you into another embrace. "Thank goodness," he murmured, his voice filled with genuine relief. "I don't know what I would've done if..."

He couldn't finish the sentence, the weight of the scare still heavy on both of your hearts. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, finding comfort in his warmth and the shared relief that the baby was okay.

"I should've been here," Joel repeated, his voice full of regret. "I won't leave your side now. We'll get through this, Bee. I promise."

The door to the hospital room opened, and a nurse entered, breaking the intimate moment. She offered a kind smile, understanding the emotions flooding around.

The nurse's gentle interruption brought a momentary pause in the room. She took a step forward, her eyes displaying both empathy and professionalism.

"I have good news," she said, smiling reassuringly. "The latest tests show that the baby is completely fine. However, given the situation, she must get some rest to ensure both her and the baby's well-being."

Joel nodded his expression a mix of relief and gratitude. "Thank you," he whispered, his voice filled with sincerity.

The nurse adjusted some of the monitoring equipment, making sure everything was in order. "The doctor will be in shortly to provide more details and discuss the next steps. In the meantime, try to get some rest. It's important for both of you."

As the nurse left the room, a sense of relief washed over you and Joel. The weight of uncertainty hadn't fully lifted, but the news about the baby brought a glimmer of hope.

Joel continued to hold you, his touch a comforting presence. "Rest, Bee. I'll be right here with you," he murmured, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead.

The door opened again, and this time, the doctor entered the room. They greeted you both with a warm smile before delving into a more detailed explanation of the situation. As they spoke, it became clear that while the baby was stable, your body needed time to recover.

"It's crucial that you prioritize rest," the doctor emphasized. "Your well-being directly impacts the baby's. We'll continue to monitor both of you closely, but taking it easy is the best course of action. You can go home, but you need to rest”

Joel nodded, his concern for you etched across his face. "We'll do whatever it takes to make sure they're both okay."

The car ride back home was filled with heavy silence. Joel drove cautiously, occasionally glancing at you in the rearview mirror. Sarah sat quietly beside you, her presence a comforting anchor.

The weight of almost losing your baby hung in the air, and you found yourself lost in your own thoughts. The doctor's words about rest echoed in your mind, and the gravity of the situation pressed on you. The streets outside blurred as your mind grappled with the fragility of life and the overwhelming responsibility that now rested on your shoulders.

Joel's hand found yours, and he gave it a reassuring squeeze. "We're almost home," he said softly, breaking the silence. "You just focus on resting, Bee. We'll take care of everything else."

Your gaze met his in the rearview mirror, and you managed a faint nod. The drive continued in quiet introspection, each passing moment carrying the weight of the recent scare.

When you arrived home, the familiar surroundings felt both comforting and surreal. Joel helped you inside, and the air was charged with unspoken emotions. Sarah quietly excused herself, sensing the need for a private moment.

Joel guided you upstairs to the bed, and as you settled in, he knelt beside you, his eyes searching yours. "Are you okay?" he asked, a genuine concern etched on his face.

You nodded, unable to find the words. You couldn’t help but to felt guilty creeping all over your body, you were supposed to take care of the baby, but you just hurt him, what happened had left you emotionally drained, and the need for rest weighed heavily on you. Joel placed a gentle kiss on your forehead before standing up.

"I'll make sure everything is in order. You just take it easy," he said, his voice a soothing presence.

As he left to attend to the tasks around the house, you lay there, feeling a mix of exhaustion and emotional turbulence.

The room was filled with a soft glow from the bedside lamp, casting a warm ambiance. You closed your eyes, attempting to quiet the whirlwind of thoughts that threatened to overwhelm you. The events of the day had been a stark reminder of the fragility of life, and the weight of responsibility settled heavily on your shoulders.

After a while, Joel returned to the room, his movements quiet and deliberate. He sat on the edge of the bed, his eyes still carrying the worry that had etched lines on his face throughout the day.

"Is there anything you need?" he asked, his voice a gentle ask.

You shook your head, a small smile attempting to reassure him. "I just need you”

Joel's expression softened at your words. Without a moment's hesitation, he shifted closer, wrapping his arms around you. The bed dipped slightly under his weight as he pulled you into a comforting embrace.

"I'm right here," he whispered, his voice a soothing murmur. His fingers traced gentle circles on your back, a rhythmic gesture meant to offer solace in the quiet of the room.

etched lines on Joel's face began to ease as the two of you shared a quiet moment, finding comfort in each other's arms.

Time seemed to stretch, and in the hushed atmosphere, the love that bound you and Joel together became an unbreakable force. There were no words needed, just the shared understanding that in moments of vulnerability, you could lean on each other for support.

The night unfolded in a gentle quietude, and as you lay in Joel's arms, the weight of the day gradually lifted.

Joel pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, a gesture filled with both love and reassurance. "Rest, Bee. I'll be right here with you," he murmured.

As you closed your eyes, letting the rhythmic sounds of Joel's breathing and the soft hum of the night envelop you, a profound sense of gratitude washed over you.

The next morning arrived with a soft glow entered through the curtains. Joel had let you sleep for a few more hours. The sounds of his muted conversations downstairs indicated that he was working from home, managing gallery stuff, and ensuring everything ran just right during his absence.

As you slowly woke up, the weight of the previous day's events settled into your consciousness. However, the warmth of the morning sunlight and the gentle ambiance of the room brought a sense of calm. You could hear Joel's hushed voice from below, comforting you.

Taking a deep breath, you sat up, feeling exhausted and the comforting presence of your surroundings. The door creaked open, and Joel entered, with a tray of breakfast in his hands. His eyes softened as he saw you awake, and a warm smile graced his face.

"Good morning, Love" he greeted, setting the tray on your lap. "I thought you might be hungry."

You returned his smile, grateful for his thoughtfulness. "Thank you"

He sat on the edge of the bed, watching you eat. What had happened the previous night lingered in the air. Joel sensed the need for a moment of normalcy and began updating you on the gallery stuff and the plans for the upcoming exhibition.

As he spoke, you couldn't help but admire his dedication, balancing both work responsibilities and his commitment to you. The love and care he poured into his words were evident, a reassuring reminder that you weren't facing anything alone anymore.

You belonged somewhere now.

After a while, Joel finished his updates and looked at you with a warm expression. "How are you feeling this morning?"

You paused, considering the question. "Better, I think. And with you here, it makes everything a little brighter for me."

His eyes softened, and he reached for your hand. "I'm glad to hear that. We'll take it one step at a time, okay?"

Nodding, you appreciated Joel's steadying presence. As he rose from the bed, he leaned in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. "Rest a bit more if you need to. I'll be right downstairs if you need anything."

Later that day, the sunlight had mellowed into a warm glow as Sarah returned home from school. Joel, who had been working with his laptop on the table, greeted her with a smile as she walked in.

"Hey, kiddo," he said, setting aside his work and standing up to welcome her. "How was your day?"

Sarah returned the smile, but there was a hint of concern in her eyes. "It was okay. How's Bee?"

Joel's expression softened. "She's resting. It's been a bit of a rough time, but we're taking it one step at a time."

Sarah nodded, understanding the situation. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Just being here is enough," Joel reassured her, appreciating her concern. "How about you? How's school?"

As they settled into the living room, Joel found a moment to share something with Sarah that had been on his mind. He looked at her with excitement.

"Sarah, there's something I want to talk to you about," he began, his tone more serious yet filled with softness.

Her curiosity piqued, and Sarah nodded for him to continue.

"You know how much your dad loves Bee, right?" Joel started, a soft smile playing on his lips. "Well, I've been thinking a lot, especially after everything that's happened…. I’m asking Bee to marry me”

Sarah's eyes widened with realization. “Are you for real?”

Joel nodded, a glint of excitement in his eyes. "Yeah. I've never been more sure about anything in my life. Bee is just… I want to spend the rest of my life with her. I also want you to know that this doesn't change anything between us. If anything, it just means we'll be a more official family."

A genuine smile spread across Sarah's face. "That's great, Dad. I think she is the right for you”

“Do you think so?”

“You know Bee is the girl I pictured as my mom when I was little. She was so kind all the time and I didn’t understand why you didn’t like it”

Joel's eyes softened at Sarah's heartfelt words. "She cares about you a lot, you know. And I'm grateful that you've accepted her into our lives."

Sarah nodded, a warm expression on her face. "Bee is the best thing of our family and I’m so happy you want to do this, dad”

Joel's heart swelled with gratitude and love for Sarah. "I'm happy too, Sarah. And I appreciate you welcoming Bee into our lives with open arms. You and Bee mean the world to me, and I want us to be a happy family."

Sarah grinned, her eyes reflecting genuine happiness. "We are a family, Dad. And soon, it's going to be official"

Joel chuckled, ruffling her hair affectionately. "Officially official."

a/n: As I said, the next chapter is the last one so get ready for the happy ending

tags 💌: @joeldjarin @borhapparker @fatima-marisa @kirsteng42 @paleidiot @harriedandharassed @runningmom94 @pedr0swh0r3 @ssacharcoalgrey @missladym1981 @littleshadow17 @sevillagrenada

[wonderlandleighleigh]

Love your writing! If you’re still taking prompts, how about Midge/Lenny pre-get-together and *gasp* there’s only one bed? 😳

Let's call this an alternate ending to 2x10

Here's how it happens:

She sticks around for the Steve Allen gig, and Lenny gets a big, heartfelt hug when he comes off stage, which, to be honest, Midge wasn't expecting to give him, but...he needed it.

She kind of did, too.

And she has every intention of saying her goodbyes, finding a cab, and heading to Joel, with her head full of feelings about winding up...

Well...

Alone.

The problem being that when she and Lenny step out of the television studio, it is dumping rain, there are no cabs, and the subway looks packed with people. Getting anywhere will be impossible.

"Come with me!" Lenny calls over the loud rain around them, and she pulls her umbrella out, lifting it over her head as she follows him, trying to lift it over his too, but he's walking fast, and it's hard to cover both of them.

Eventually, they get to a small walk-up, and Lenny leads her inside and to one of the small apartments.

"It's not much," he apologizes. "I gave up my actual apartment, but I keep this place for emergencies. At six bucks a month, it's a steal."

She shivers as he leads her inside. The space is small, but clean, with a corner for a kitchen, a couple of chairs and a table, a neat-looking bed and a doorway to what Midge assumes is a restroom.

"We can wait things out here," he tells her.

"We could have gone to a bar, or a diner," Midge offers, a little amused.

"We could have," Lenny concedes, as he disappears into the restroom, emerging with a couple of towels. "But they don't have these."

She catches the one offered to her, and sheds her coat before wrapping it around herself, trying to dry off. "Thanks."

"Sure," he nods, pulling off his suit jacket and using his own towel.

They warm up and dry off in companionable silence, and once Lenny finishes, he looks over at her.

"Thank you," he says. "For coming to this thing. It was very kind."

Midge smiles at him warmly. "It was no problem. It was fun."

He nods and gathers the towels up. "I uh...I don't have a tv or anything...it might be a little boring until this rain lets up."

"That's okay," she says. "I uhm...I actually have a lot no my mind, so the quiet is okay."

"Yeah?" he asks, lifting his eyebrows. "Care to share?"

Midge takes a breath. "I got a good. A good one."

He smiles slowly. "Do tell."

"Shy Baldwin wants me to tour with him," Midge tells him.

"No shit. That's incredible."

"Thanks."

Silence falls over them for a moment, before Lenny narrows his eyes.

"What's wrong?"

She doesn't respond right away, crossing her arms.

"Come on, I poured my guts out to you the other night, it's your turn," he says, grinning at her a little.

"I just-I'm gonna be alone," she shrugs. "There's not gonna be someone willing to wait for me until I get back from stuff like this. Certainly not Benjamin. And Joel- my ex, Joel - would never."

He gazes at her understandingly, letting her talk.

"I chose this," she goes on. "I am choosing this life and I don't regret it and this opportunity is amazing but it means I'm leaving behind a lot of the things I thought I wanted. You were right. I can't go back to jell-o molds. But I guess I didn't realize what that really meant until tonight."

"That's not what I meant," he says gently. "I mean, it is, kind of, but -"

She looks at him expectantly. "You're not wearing your wedding ring anymore. Your marriage fell apart, too?"

"Yeah, but it's been falling apart ever since we got married," Lenny admits. "We weren't the people either of us wanted each other to be."

Midge nods and takes a seat on the bed. "You don't feel alone?"

He shrugs and sits next to her, keeping a good bit of distance between them. "Sometimes," he admits. "But not all the time."

She looks at him and takes a breath. "I really didn't want to be alone tonight."

"You're not," he tells her. "Or am I chopped liver?"

Midge laughs a little and crosses her arms. "I don't know that this rain is gonna let up any time soon."

"Yeah, might go all night."

"You don't mind me staying?"

"You can even have the bed."

"No. I can just- there are chairs."

Lenny rolls his eyes. "Midge, it is not often I am overcome with chivalry. I would not turn it down if I were you."

"Lenny, we can share the bed."

"Are you a kicker?"

"Yes, you'll love it."

He laughs a little - really laughs, and Midge decides she likes that sound.

******

She wakes up before dawn, and Lenny is sleeping on the other side of the bed, over the covers, back turned to her.

Midge takes a breath and sits up, leaning over him. "Hey. I gotta get going."

He rolls onto his back and gazes up at her in the dim light of pre-morning, his eyes sleep-dazed. "Yeah," he whispers back. "You gonna be okay?"

She nods, but doesn't move. "Thank you. For last night."

"Thank you for last night," he says. "It meant a lot. You showin' up. I didn't put your name on the list because I didn't think you would."

"Well now you know me better than that," she tells him, her hand doing something she doesn't expect as it strokes through his curly hair.

His grin falls as they stare at each other, and suddenly she's leaning in, kissing him slowly, his hands reaching up to hold onto her hips. The kiss deepens as Lenny sits up, and Midge's arms wrap around his neck.

Lenny smells like rain and aftershave and it's a nice combination and oh my god, what is she doing?

They pull apart, both breathing heavily as his hands stroke up her back slowly.

"Now you know me a lot better," she quips, and finds herself being kissed more passionately.

She had imagined that she'd wind up with Joel like this. That she would show up at his little place and they would have sex that would either mean something or it wouldn't, and then she'd disappear into the night, and instead, Lenny's hand is trailing down her leg and up her skirt and why does this feel so right?

"Midge, if you wanna go, you should tell me right now," he warns as he kisses down to her neck. "Because things are very quickly getting out of hand."

The feel of his thumb, stroking her thigh is unexpectedly tender, and when he lifts his head, she stares into his eyes, dazed still, but with heat and want instead of sleep.

And she kisses him again.

*****

The kiss goodbye is soft, and surprisingly sweet. He slips a piece of paper with a couple of phone numbers on it into her handbag the same way he'd slipped that joint into another one the year before.

"Give me a call from the road?" he asks hopefully.

Midge smiles and kisses his cheek. "You got it."

[treasureswordsgirl55]

First Dance Since 1943

Character: James Bucky Barnes

Inspired by (song): I still don’t remember it, actually 😬

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/ Fem!StarkScientist Reader

Warnings: Fluff. Dancing at Work. Insecurities. Jokes. Memories.

Author's Note: Hello!!! I hope you're ok today ❤️.

First of all, thanks you for all the replies on my last Fics! Really that is very appreciated 😍

This fic was the first that I ve write with Bucky when the series came out, so... This was the first steps of my new (lost) love about Bucky (And Sebastian too)

I hope you like this one!!!

XOXO ❤️

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

- Leslie - He raised his head as soon as he heard Joaquín's voice and gave him a smile when he saw him poke his head through the door of my office, even though it is transparent - I bring Sam with me so you can take a look at Redwing.

- It will be my pleasure - I mutter as I type a quick reply to Agent Johnson about the malfunction of Agent Sousa's new pistol. Men who come from bygone ages have serious problems with modern technology - How can I help you?

He looked up from the laptop and my eyes meet that sad look that my dreams seemed to reflect conscientiously. The owner of those blue eyes and painful memories sees me with a hint of a smile while his partner holds Redwing as if I were going to touch him just to detonate him.

- I want it to be clear that I let you intervene with him only because Torres made it clear to me that you worked for Stark.

I give a laugh that reflects my nervousness as I turn to Bucky.

- Sergeant Barnes.

- Hey. How have you been, Leslie? - The way my name sounds in his voice, which is seductive without even looking for it makes him feel that my legs melt like jelly at those words.

- Busy with so much work - I reach out to Sam making a mental note of how good that blue shirt looks on Bucky and coming to the conclusion that men who come from 1940 like the color blue - What is it? What it's the problem?

- The laser was decalibrated. I wanted to repair it but it was impossible.

- If you let me examine it, at most I will have it ready in a couple of hours - The soldier nods somewhat suspiciously but takes a step back as soon as I take that small device. - The dream of any woman, to fix one of the many work items of the Avengers.

Sam laughs as he begins to explain that he is no longer part of the Avengers as many believe. To all this, Bucky, as I allow myself to call him in my thoughts, is in silence, leaning against one of the many glass walls of the room, looking out of the building and I do not doubt for a second when I believe that he was not paying attention in the least to our conversation.

Joaquín's voice interrupts my thoughts and from the smile he brings, I know that every time he meets these two men, he considers himself one of the luckiest beings in the universe.

- Excuse me, Sam - The two men turn around as I turn the little drone and see the typical signs that this prototype of Stark technology is very poorly maintained. I make a mental note not to say that to Sam and concentrate on fixing the laser as I hear them being called from "Higher Spheres" as I call high-ranking Air Force people - They need you, there's a new report on the mission in Libya.

- Take good care of him, Leslie - I nodded smiling without looking up and muttered a "Better than you, sure" that was only audible to me.

If there was one thing he hated about Stark technologies, it was that, in addition to having the F.R.I.D.A.Y tech matrix, and without it, he couldn't do much more than touch some cables and hope the little drone would work. And i prayed that would work, otherwise i would have to ask Pepper for permission to use her facilities, but Sam would flatly refuse to take Redwing to Stark Industries.

- He screwed it up, didn't he?

I jerked my head up when I heard Bucky's voice and when I looked at him, he was still in the same position as before, looking outside the building.

- I thought you had left with Sam ...

- Excuse me, I did not want to scare you - He approached the table where i was working and indicated the drone with his metal arm, which he no longer hid under layers of clothing, much less, leather gloves - He treats that drone very badly .

- Sorry?

- Do you think that murmur was imperceptible only for you? I assure you that Sam heard it too- I cursed as he dropped the tools i had in my hands and covered my face with both, wishing that the earth would open and swallow me, as a minimum option.

- Why didn't you go with Sam? and please do not get me wrong, I like the company and I like that you are here, but it is simple curiosity - I cursed myself internally as I listened over and over again to the words that I had said aloud and I wanted the earth to pity me again and swallow me. Definitely Joaquín's idea of ​​just nodding and not talking was an excellent idea to implement.

Had I told him out loud that I liked him being there? Oh my God…

- This is Sam's land, I don't fit in here.

- And yet, here you are - I take Redwing and walk to the testing room of the laboratory that is adjacent to my office, where the music begins to play as soon as I enter the small room and as much as I want to deactivate it, I can not do it. I resign myself as soon as I hear Bucky's footsteps behind me and as soon as he enters the room, it seems too small with him there. I put the drone on the long metal table that occupies a large part of it and I type the password in the auxiliary panel of one of the screens around me and the little drone turns on, taking flight a few meters above our heads - At least It leaves me happy that I still fly with all those blows.

- I'm surprised that it's still whole - Bucky's murmur makes me laugh as I calibrate the laser to shoot the target in front of him. I try to shoot but nothing happens. I curse silently as I see from the corner of my eye that the man cautiously observes the room, as he stops when the first melodies of “She's got a Way” by Billy Joel begin to play- Do you like the music of the 20th century?

- I'll tell you the truth: I don't like current music, I prefer the lyrics of 1980s artists where they say heartfelt things rather than the lyrics that speak about certain topics in a very direct way. 1980 was a very good time, maybe you would like it.

- I have a list of songs on Spotify that I listened to in the 40's. I thought I couldn't find them again - The hint of melancholy that invades his voice makes for a moment that I wanted to meet that 23-year-old young man who should be very different from the one in front of me, with a totally different way of being and without all the suffering that would happen later - What if, that was when I learned to use a computer.

- You know, you would get along with Agent Sousa from SWORD - He turned at the mention of the new agency with a frown, clearly annoyed at the idea of ​​interacting with another agency. - He's just like you, technically speaking.

- He went through psychological torture and became a Hydra assassin? -The sincerity and ease with which those words came out of his mouth made my eyes fill with tears. The pain in his voice made my words sound clearly wrong in that conversation.

- No ... He also comes from an ancient time, like you and Steve. Only Daniel was taken out of 1955 because of Agent Coulson and his feeling of not being able to let him die in front of his eyes - Bucky nodded as he stood next to me again and watched my movements on the screen trying to get Redwing to respond, something that did not happen - Perhaps it would do them good to chat between the two ... You are not from the same era, but I imagine that their feelings towards this century are similar, and both are adapting. You can get to understand each other more than they think.

- I will keep it in mind…. Thank you, Doll - I felt the heat begin to rise up my neck at that nickname and I assumed that my cheeks must be a scarlet red color, because, despite the fact that it was cold in that room, I felt that I was on fire - I all this is strange, even though I know this technology, it is difficult for me not to relate it to all this - Unconsciously, he touches his metal arm and I let out a sigh. I'd like to know how to help him get through that, but I don't know how to do it without bringing up bad memories.

- Is there something you like?

- What are you talking about? - I put aside the PADD I had in my hands and touched the "Stand By" button for Redwing to return to his original position in the center of the table.

- Sometimes, learning becomes easier when there is something you like - I lean on the table while he remains silent and I watch him waiting for his answer, but all I get is a smile about something he is thinking - What makes you smile?

- Dance. I haven't danced in a long time. Since 1943, to be exact - He leans on the other end of the table, facing me exactly and gives me a look with a flash of mischief - And I'm not going to those places that they call discos to dance with someone.

I laughed at his tone of indignation, when I could contain my laughter, I saw him watching me with what seemed like affection, but I tried not to give it too much importance, but when I felt that my heart was going to leave my chest so hard it hit my rib cage.

- Why that tone against the discos?

- The music is too loud and there are colored lights that I don't even know what they are called, plus you can't talk to anyone - I laughed again at his complaints that were very sincere and were very similar to mine - Don't make fun of me.

- I do not, I am funny the tone you use. You seem really annoyed with it - Bucky rolls his eyes and taps on the table - What do you miss most about 1940?

- Everything, my family, my friends, my life ... The way I could go to an amusement park and not have to worry about whoever saw me wanted to run out of fear, when I could take a girl on a date without I would worry about my past, dancing with someone, that closeness that made me so comfortable and so relaxing at the same time.

- Well, at least the dance thing can be fixed - I take my iPhone out of my pocket and search the playlist for Eric Clapton's song, Wonderful Tonight and once the notes start to play, I walk over to Bucky, holding out my hand towards him, in an attack of courage, the kind that I don't usually have, but all that was to get a smile from the owner of those beautiful sad eyes - Would you dance this song with me?

Although I notice that my actions catch him off guard, he smiles at me and takes my hand, nodding his head.

When the two of us are standing in front of each other, I realize that I don't know where to put my hands, much less stop to think if that could be uncomfortable for him. I wanted to back away, looking for a good enough excuse before falling into the misfortune of having to apologize to him, but Bucky, who will have simply seen my worried expression, took my free hand and brought it to his forearm, and laid it there gently, While with his right hand he held mine, and with his metal arm, he encircled my waist, drawing me close to him. We began to move slowly to the beat of the music, but he was definitely the one leading the way.

- How does it feel to dance decently again? - I was silent at the inappropriate comment and let out a sigh while I concentrated on trying not to step on it.

- It feels strange to do it after a long time - Bucky ignores my comment or downplays it, but when I look at him, I realize that he is concentrating on remembering the steps and trying to guide the inexperienced woman in front of him.

- To do it a long time ago, you do it very well - He shakes his head, trying not to smile, and before I even knew it, he released one of my hands and made me turn, taking my hand perfectly synchronized at the end of it.

- If Steve were here, I'd say it's innate ability.

- Well, if he makes you feel more comfortable, this is my first time dancing with someone, that is, I dance with a man. And I must admit that I never believed it would be in my workplace.

- Why's that? - I let out a sigh as I watch him at the same time that he looks towards the laboratory door. When he looks back at me, in his blue eyes I can see a flicker of doubt and curiosity.

Anyone could feel safe with my poor social and love life.

- It's weird to dance in your workplace. Everyone here is watching you from the other side of the glass and ...

- I meant because you never danced with anyone - Oh ... I drop my head until it almost touches his chest, but I feel that the pressure of his arm grows stronger around my waist, as if he knows that I am about to fall and I won't notice - I'm sorry if the question bothers you.

- No, no, he doesn't. What happens is that I'm not usually the type of girl who gets asked to dance. Besides, I don't like going to the disco or going out at night. In that respect I am similar to you - I admit while he gives me a smirk - I prefer to stay home and read. Or spend time with my cat.

- Intellectuals are the best - Bucky's voice sounds annoying and safe at the same time, as if something in his own words bothered him.

- But the less interesting for the men of this time apparently, more when they talk a lot about science and current affairs - Between the chords of the music, I get him to laugh. And I must admit, he has a beautiful smile, one of the prettiest I have ever seen, in fact. I start to laugh and in the midst of my laughter, he spins me around again at the same time the song ends.

- Not for me. Are you sure you didn't come out of the 40's like me? - We don't even part, and our hands are still joined as I shake my head.

I smile as I take a step away from him as I pick up my cell phone to stop the music and see him approach the window again.

- No, but I think I was born at the wrong time.

- Thanks for this - his murmur reaches me far away, but with a clear hint of satisfaction in his voice. I smile happy to have served my purpose.

- Thanks to you, at least I have experienced what it feels like to dance with someone.

- You will do it more often, trust me.

- I take the word.

Sam who had arrived at the scene a few minutes before with Torres, smiled as he watched the whole scene and remembered those days when he took advantage of Steve's innocence with women and smiled wistfully when he realized that Bucky was the clear image of his best friend. Seeing him for a moment concentrating on something other than work filled him with satisfaction, perhaps Joaquín's idea of ​​bringing him here hadn't been so bad after all.

Then he would take advantage of letting him know of his observations when the two of them were alone.

I turn towards the door as soon as I hear a series of light knocks and I meet Sam's mischievous smile, who sees me as if he had discovered gold or something much more valuable.

- I'm so sorry to interrupt, but we have work, Buck.

- Sure - Bucky turns to where I am and before he could even move me away, he takes one of my hands and leaves a kiss on it. I can barely contain the sigh that tries to escape from my lips and I simply remain silent, feeling how the color begins to invade my cheeks, in the company of the heat - Thanks for the dance.

- My pleasure, Sergeant Barnes.

Sam, who is behind us, rolls his eyes and leans against the door while Bucky approaches him with a heavy sigh - Don't even think about making jokes about this.

- Did I say something? - I let out a laugh at his comical and ironic tone as Bucky walks past him shaking his head. "See you later, Leslie." I need to make some arrangements on the suit.

- Yes Sir.

Sam glares at me as Torres chuckles at my horrified expression. I forgot he don't like me calling him sir.

- Sorry, Sam.

After a few minutes, I find myself alone again, so I return to the laboratory to work on Redwing and allow myself to release that sigh that I have been holding since Bucky appeared in that room.

That moment had been incredible ... Even if it was only that, a moment that will remain in my head.

I startle as soon as I hear a knock on the door, I take off the receiver and as soon as I turn around, I see that the one at the door is Bucky, who has his left hand hidden behind his back.

- You know, "Sergeant" is very formal - he leaves his left hand exposed and has a white flower on it. I doubt if I approach but I do it feeling that the colors begin to invade my face. No one had never given me flowers. That gesture was beautiful, I take it and I respond with a smile - Call me James.

[popculturebuffet]

Top 12 Christmas Episodes!

Merry Christmas Eve Everybody! We’ve reached the end of my christmas reivews and what not on this blog. 

But as a wise barrel chested canadian man once said, I fucking love christmas, So if i’m finishing up the holiday on my blog I want to go big and stay home. So in honor of the holiday, my memories of it and just how GREAT it makes me feel i’m counting down my top 12 christmas specials! After last year’s worst of list I really wanted to do the oppsiite.. but it was naturally a lot harder. Shows usually put a LOT of effort into their christmas outings, even the ones who do so once a year, so the good FAR FAR OUTWEIGHS THE BAD. To show the contrast I could only find like.. 8 I was comfortable with putting on the worst list and even some of them aren’t that bad just not good. With the best of list? I had over 60 considered and even once I started narrowing down.. it was still around 30 or 40 REALLY GOOD specials I had to work down into this list. It took a lot of work and up to the last one it was really HARD to cut it down this far. But this is the best of the best of the best of the best of the.. you get the bit. We’ve got a lot of ground to cover and this review was already supposed to come out on christmas eve, so, since I won’t be able to use this for another year...

Er. Top 12 Christmas Specials.

12. Merry Christmas Johnny Rose (Schitt’s Creek) So I finally watched all of Schitt’s Creek this year.. and i’m kicking myself for not powering through it’s terrible starting decent ending first season earlier because the show is easly one of the best comedies of the last decade and rightly earned it’s emmy sweep this year. Heartfelt, hilarious, and starring some of the best names old and new in comedy, the show is really great and I recommend checking it out.. just again be aware the first few episodes are not very good and if it wasn’t vital to the rest of the show story wise, i’d just recommend skippping season 1. While the characters minus patriach Johnny are insuferable at first... it’s their growing from self absorbed assholes to still self abosrbed but really good and decent people that is the beating heart of the show. And no where more is this heart on the show’s sleve than at christmas time as this episode is baked in just how far our cast have come.

The episode centers on Johnny Rose, played by Eugene Freaking Levy who co created the show with his equally talented son Dan who desrves the lion’s share of the credit for the show’s upturn in quality. Since the Roses used to have big lavish christmas parties once a year, Johnny decides to throw the equilvent of what they can do on a budget at the Motel they all live in. But his family all has other plans with daughter Alexis, now happily with Ted again, meeting his friends for the first time, son David, played by Dan Levy, busy at his store with his partner, in both senses, patrick and his wife Moira having a performance with her acapella group. At first it just comes off as something typical of johnny: Something well meaning and what not but ultimatley just not something his family is into or that he planend well for.

It’s only when Johnny finds himself alone at the local diner with Moira coming to see him we find out why he’s REALLY doing this: the old lavish parties, which we see one of at the start.. ultimately ended up with him alone, sad and everyone off to their own corners. WIth the family having actually come together over the past 4 seasons, Johny simply wanted to celebrate that and says such in one of the best moments in the entire show and with one hell of a line.

"I just thought, in spite of all the hardship, we found ourselves coming together, the kids, you and me, as a family. And it just seemed like the perfect day to celebrate that. The perfect day for a Rose Family Christmas Party." But Moira has already taken care of it and thus takes JOhnny home to find all their friends and the rest of the family gathered, wtih the Jazzagals serandading eveyrone with a beautiful rendition of silent night. It’s just a warm, well done character piece that really fits the holiday while also really cementing what the show had become: a show not afraid to make dirty jokes or humilatie it’s cast but one that has a true sweetness to it. It’s only that the first half’s jokes don’t quite pop all that well and feel a bit at johnny’s expense that holds it back. Otherwise this is one i’ll be coming back to every year.

11. Father of the Bob (Bob’s Burgers) Bob’s Burgers is a damn great show i’m season’s behind on. Warm, charming, weird and with an expansive side cast played by a whos who of whose in comedy today. It’s a damn fine show and i’m happy it seems to have manatained it’s quality long after the simpsons and family guy lost theirs. And the show really loves christmas.. and halloween.. and valentine’s day.. and thanksgiving. Oh god does it love thanksgiving. Point is, the shows good at holiday episodes and loves doin em and has produced some stellar ones and I had a lot to pick from here.. but I ended up going with my gut and my personal faviorite. It’s not the most christmasy despite the trappings, but the character work is just too good to leave it out in the cold.  It’s Christmas Eve and the Belcher’s are visiting Bob’s Dad. As you can tell by the fact the most we’ve seen of him is a picture of his restraunt, big bob’s diner in the belcher’s living room and a flashback where he told bob to work instead of play as a kid that set off an episode’s plot, they don’t have the best relationship. Bob has a firm rule about not spending more than 15 minutes with his dad, as that’s the point they run out of things to talk about and his dad starts getting overcrytical and making jabs at bob’s life and restraunt. Linda, being Linda, decides to meddle and when she finds out Big Bob’s short order cook is missing, has our Bob fill in.  But as we see in flash backs it’s not THAT easy to repair things, as there’s a long, bitter history between the two: When a youngbob made his first unique burger and served it to a customer, his dad threw it out without even letting anyone taste it. He then offered bob a partnership when bob was a young man but Bob snapped at Big Bob in front of his friends and left to make burgers his own way, leading to where we are now. And honestly i’ts the perfect origin story for Bob and adds a lot of shades to his character. He’s obessed with the restraunt not just because he genuinely loves cooking but because it’s HIS. His place, to create creative burgers, his family and his regulars. It’s his corner of the sky. It makes the restraunt’s existance and surivvial that much more heartwarming to know the meaning behind it.

Naturally things end up blowing up with Bob pointedly serving the burger to make a point and Big bob walking out angrily and sadly. It takes bob’s gift from the kids, who had their own neat subplot of making gifts for bob in the basement, a snowglobe wrapped in newspaper.. to find out hsi dad kept the newspaper with the review of his first restraunt and kept ALL reviews of Bob’s Burgers. Despite being a stone faced critical ass on the outside, Big BOb STILl cared.. and bob relizes he needs to make amends and actually make an effort instead of just avoiding his dad or gettin gback at him. And through the power of gay club next door line dancing, and nick offerman whose a wonderful guest star here, the two reconcile with Bob admitting he shouldn’t of humilatied his dad even if he had to go his own way, and Big Bob admitting he’s hard to work with, the loss of his wife hit him hard, and he was a bit too much. The two hug, and it’s genuinely just a good, well done story of father and son that somehow gives even more dimension to Bob, an already pretty damn fleshed out character. Just a really great episode whose holiday timing makes it better.. though not being AS much a holiday episode as a really good bob’s burgers that’s enhanced by it is why this one’s so low. Next!

10. Santa Claus Conquers the Martians (MST3K) I”m honestly surpised i’ts taken me THIS long to get to something MST3K related. I’ve loved the show since high school, first exposed to it thanks to a dvd from the library and continuing from there to present day. I love the show’s combination of riff’s on perfectly cheesy movie and fun skits with really good puppets especially for the budget. It’s just good comfort food in show form and no where is comfort food more welcome than christmas, and each era of MST3K, so far hopefully the show will come back again eventually, has had i’ts own damn good christmas special, with this being my faviorite out of the three. 

The other two are good: ironically I have a poster for the santa claus over my computer, or rather crow and tom as santa and pitch aka satan respectively. Yes really, that’s the premise. IT is as awesome and batshit insane as it sounds. Point is I like that one and year without a santa claus, this one just has more personal warmth to me. I jus tlove the holiday feeling of joel and the bots readying for christmas in the host segments. It just feels like christmas and it’s wonderful to see the bots act like kids.  That being said.. it’s still also fucking hilaroius, with the mad’s hilariously petty wish squisher, a device that turns good gifts into socks and other unwanted presents, the best Crow T Robot quote of all time as he gives joel his santa wish

And of course, one of the best and most patently insane christmas songs ever: Have Yourself a Patrick Swayze christmas, which has become oddly sweet after his death and got me to watch road house for the first time last year... and it’s as awesome and wonderfully rediclous as this song inspiried by it and even better once you get the refrences

But while the host segments are what push this film into the list, the movie is still a delightful bit of 60′s cheese as, to restore their children to being children, a couple of martians kidnap santa to bring christmas to mars. Fights iwth robots, an asshole martian and an obnoxious sidekick named droppo, yes really, insue. IT’s just some fun cheese for the holiday and a staple of my holidays. 

9. The Three Wise Men (Letterkenny)  It’s no secret Letterkenny has quickly become one of my faviorite shows. After watching it last January, it’s become part of my being and one of my go too feel good shows, a funny as hell, uniquely weird slice of life show set in rural canada. While like it’s fellow recent legend of canadian television Schitt’s creek it’s first season CAN be a bit rough.. but it’s not as rough and getting through it is worht it as the show immiedatly picked up and became one of the funniest things to ever exist. It’s also uniquely tied to christmas as every year a season of the show has dropped on that day on it’s home streamer Crave TV in canada, and on boxing day here in the us. So it’s only fitting the show also has a REALLY great christmas special. 

It’s Christmas eve and our heroes the hicks, are having a christmas party. For the uniniated the hick’s aren’t really all that “hick” ish just hardworking farmers who still accept everybody and work damn hard. Leading man, terse talker and certified badass Wayne is suprisingly really into christmas, as he spent pretty much every holiday spouting out inacuracies about it but this day? He genuienly enjoys, even insiting on awful holiday drinks only and a midnight toast, the titular three wiseman (Canadian, irish and American Whiskeys, one shot of each). “It’s tradition”.  And thanks to tradition we get the main gag of the episode: most of the episode is wayne calling in various members of the town, most of whom he dosen’t like very much and some who deeply annoy him, to give them presents. And  while i’ve admitted to being a guy who dosen’t like a plot that basically repeats itslef.. it works here.. mostly because while the setup is the same, each member provides something new and hilarious: while it starts innocently enough with Bonnie Mcmurray, local fanservice, nice lady and fangirl of wayne, getting a camera and offering to be an elf, an offer wayne is forced to take up, it soon becomes a parade of weirdness and bullshit Wayne really dosen’t want to put up with and that really makes me laugh hard: Local loveable sex maniac and bar owner Gail goes on for a good minute about her sexual antics with Wayne’s beloved departed uncle eddie after Wayne gives him a picture of the guy, Glenn, another of wayn’es unwanted admirers and local pastor, obsesses over a christmas themed digeredoo, local druggies and emos the skids intitally refuse to open their gift out of prinicpal until wayne simply asks “What if theres drugs in it” (It’s insted vitamin d), the local hockey coach sings a hilarious and gloriously cringe song about having sex with his wife when they were alive and the hockey players make wayne uncomfortable both by crying a bit. Also tanis gets an apron. 

But even if the reactions horrify or piss off our hero into needing his elf’s help, the heart is in the fact that despite hating most of these people, he still got them a gift and one that’s hearfelt and well meaning. And naturally the sweetest is saved for his family of choice with the hicks: Squirrely Dan gets a pencil case for his oft talked about women’s studies class, Dary gets some clonge since he wears his barn clothes everywhere, and Katy gets an obscure korean christmas movie since her subplot that episode had been spent trying to get a christmas movie going, only for everyone to pick it apart: from the racisim of santa and co towards rudolph to pointing out how profoundly fucked up the premise of the santa claus is (including the fact various serial killers could’ve gotten the suit), which I agree with, it’s just a sweet gesture that shows how well he knows his friend. Overall it’s just a fun hangout of an episode that feels like a real christmas party and in these troubling times we could all use that. Now let’s all have a spit.

8. The Feast of Alvis (Sealab 2021) Another Christmas staple for me.. and a gloriously strange one at that. This time we’re checking under the sea with Sealab 2021, one of the earliest adult swim shows and the blueprint for the abriged series format, it took a dry hannah barbara show about an underwater research station and remixed it into the antics of a bunch of idiots and lunatatics throughuly unequipped for the task. Except Dr. Quinn, the only sane person aboard.. most of the time. It was comedy gold courtsey of Adam Reed, creator of the later Frisky Dingo, a throughly underated show, and Archer, which is like Frisky Dingo but refined into it’s truest and most sucessful form. It was magical and just talking about it makes me want to talk about it again at some point, probably in a best of list.  So naturally this madcap energy was perfect for the holidays. Originally the crew planned to use ACTUAL religions for this, but were forced by network to change it.. which ended up being one of those cases where the network ended up actually making the right call as the creators instead created thinly veiled substute for the various religions... and centered it around Alavanism, which is christianity.. but if christ was instead born in the us at some point, and instead of being a pacifist, was a drunken beligernt gun loving redneck who shot a guy in the face, has “vengance is mine” as one of his quotes (from said face shooting) and still had pomp and circumstance as part of his holiday.  Helping this though is our Alvian for the evening is Captain Murphy, the series best character and often the center of it’s best moments, played by the wonderful and sadly late Harry Goz, a half crazed half chidlish cloud cuckoolander who often comes off like a demanding child in an old man’s body. So naturally this holiday is for him and even more naturally he’s holding a massive alvis day cermeony that’s as batshit as he and his religion are in the main deck: he’s got buffalo, a buffet that’s deeply unsanitary, and a hallogen light mimickign the alvistide star that he wants to plop a baby under.  Naturally no one else is happy about this. Well Stormy, local hilarious dumbass, is as the only other alvian on board for this, and a general sucker for dumb shenanigans but he’s so plastared he’s even less coherent than usual and can mostly muster the desire to kick something’s ass or a weak “shut up” Most of all Quinn and his girlfriend debbie, who point out religious tolerance is a part of the sealab charter and that this kind of grotesuqe celebration really isn’t in season. I’ts also a nice dig at “War on Christmas Assholes”, long before that was as big a problem with Muprhy very much being the asshole and his cleebration rapidly crumbling. He also attempts to fire Sparks for being a wiccan stand in so yeah he deserves it. It’s all capped in Muprhy getting visted by a drunken halucination of his lord. All in all easily one of the best and most insane christmas specials ever put to film. If you have HBO Max watch it today or tommorow you will NOT regret it. 

7. Arnold’s Christmas (Hey Arnold)  A classic of my childhood, Hey Arnold is one of the best animated shows period. It’s something i’m not shy about saying, I bleivie I said it in my thanksgiving list and i’ll say it quite a bit. It’s not PERFECT, it has it’s flaws.. but it’s still damn good and the golden standard for slice of life shows. 

This episode naturally is one of it’s best and, while I didn’t catch as a kid the signifigance or what this was about, touches on of all things the vietnam war and the children who were helicoptered out. In a heart destroying story, Mr. Winn, one of Arnold’s boardinghousemates, reveals he has a daughter he has no idea where she is as to give her a better life, he made sure she got on one of those helicopters as an infant. While he was able to immigrate later, he never found her. Arnold being our own personal jesus, refuses to let this stand and goes out of his way to figure it out and goes on a quest that seemingly ends in failure. It falls on Helga to save the day as Helga actually gets what she wanted from her parents, a pair of nice boots, and gets the rare moment where they actually acknoledge her.. but loving arnold and seeing the noblility in his quest.. she gives it up. Just to make someone elses’ dream come true. He may never know who did it and tha’ts okay. An utterly heartwarming and heartbreaking episode. Nuff said. 

6. Santa Claus is Comin To Town  Speaking of classics this is how you do a santa origin story. Not the first or last i’d see, and we’ll get to one of those in a moment. While i’m not a huge fan of Rankin Bass’ other big hit with Rudolph, this one really hits the spot for me and is only this low because it’s pacing is really slow at points. Otherwise this special is near flawless, looks good and holds up today.  As I said this is a good Year One for santa establishing how he became immortal, how he met the elves, he was raised by them, how he started giving out toys, how he met mrs claus you know all the stuff you’d ask about.  To me what really sells it the best though is Mickey Rooney as Santa. While I had no idea who played him till literally writing this article in my mind his earnesness, kindness and genuine nature just.. fit the old elf to me even as a young man and everything from his humble beginings to his wanting to help children just out of kindness to his teaching an old man to dance to his romance just feels.. genuine and warm like christmas should. It just makes me feel good and like others on this list.. FEELS like christmas if that makes any sense. Not a lot else to say. Burger Meister Meisterburger isn’t the best vilian, but it was the early 70′s and we weren’t quite to diamond levels of complex interesting villians just yet so fair enough. Baiscally I don’t have a TON to say about this special in short, I may review it next year, we’ll see, but  it’s really good, really fun and sometimes simple just works I guess? Speaking of stop motion..

5. Abed’s Uncontrollable Christmas (Community) I love a good sitcom. I haven’t shared that love enough on here, I should try and change that at some point, but I do, as a fourth of this list should make crystal clear. So while sadly some of my faviorites like Brooklyn Nine Nine, Parks and Rec and Roseanne didn’t make the cut, Community thankfully did. Community is a show that’s really damn good and had THREE awesome Christmas episodes. All three, all winners and all in contention for some time. Regional Holiday music just barely didn’t make the cut. But ultimately I went with the best of the best, the most creative, most character driven, and most intresting. And the one that in Community’s traditional style, decided to take a spin on an old genre.  In this case Abed, the study groups resident pop culture junkie, guy who thinks in tropes and future Huey Duck, is seeing everything in stop motion and may get thrown out of school as a result. With his friends deeply worried, they turn to Greendale’s local psychologist and british areshole Professor Duncan, played by my spirtual father John Oliver. ALL HAIL THIS MAN

Duncan takes the two into Abed’s fantasy and thus into a rankin bass special where Abed slowly weeds out his friends and tries to get rid of Duncan, whose naturally only intrested in proving a case. It’s a fun, chaotic ride including christmas pterodactyls, and the cast all in bizzare forms based on what Abed thinks of htem. it’s really damn creative and beauitfully animated at that.  Naturally like most of these what clinches it is the heart and soul. We find out towards the end WHy this happened: Abed’s mom is spending christmas with her new family instead of him and it’s broken him to not be able to watch specials like they do> Thus the group rally behind their friend, beat duncan in a wonderful christmas number and watch specials with their buddy, as the weird ass family some of whom have or will make out, they are. 

4. A Charlie Brown Christmas With my love of comic strips and sentiment, it should suprise absolutely no one this is on here. I love peanuts and have only grown to love it more over hte years for it’s mealancholy, finely constructed cast and weird bits people forget about like Snoopy’s disco phase, that really damn good arc where his house burned down, his brother stealing his fiance only to have her stolen from him, the fact Lucy threw Linus out once, that peppermint patty was once held back a grade and her snores took her place at her desk, the fact there was a character named 5, Charlie Brown and Linus’ friend roy who introduced peppermint patty to the cast, the fact a character named crybaby boobie exists, the fact there are specials devoted to a pastiche of call of the wild, a friend of linus’ getting cancer, and Flashbeagle. Just flashbeagle. 

It is glorious. And I really need to add that to my review queue.. maybe for late january. Seriously, tis glorious. And I OWN this one. So yeah. What were we talking about? Oh yes the special that made all the specials, especially flashbeagle, possible: A Charlie Brown Christmas This one has always been part of my life, but even beyond it’s signifigance to me, having grown up with it and grafted it to my soul, it’s just .. good. It has some good commentary on the consumrisim of the holiday with Charlie Brown rightly a bit upset about it and ending up roped into directing a christmas play. Great gags, and charlie brown trying to stick up for a scragly tree no one enlse likes insue. Oh and scripture as this is probably the only overtly religious special on the list. Not that ther’es anything wrong with not being religious and celebrating christmas: i’m not anymore but I still do and while I respect people who celebrate the holiday int he spirit of christ I have none for people who bash anyone who dosen’t just see it religiously and whose over zealous about it. Your just as bad as war on christmas people and you should feel bad.  But yeah overal it’s just an inconic special whose clunkyness in production and audio just adds some charm to it. It shows it’s age.. but only in the animation and production values, which is just.. charming. It’s message is timeless, it’s characterization is perfect as you’d expect from peanuts in it’s prime, and i’ts ending is truly heartmelting. If you’ve never seen this one.. just go do that. I can wait. 

3. How Santa Stole Christmas! (Ducktales)  I”ll be brief on this one as, since it only aired a few weeks ago, i’ve already done a full review on it. But I will justify why such a recent special is this high up: because it’s just that good. It may of JUST been aired, but it’s as good as anything else here and age dosen’t matter. Quality does. There will likely be future specials worth this list i’m sure but for this moment in time this one earns it. It has Santa perfectly charactrized and tells an utterly heartrending story of friendship that ends up ending simply because the two are moving in opposite directions and of Scrooge learning the meaning of christmas. Not thorugh the ghosts, they already brilliantly messed with that one. It’s just really fantastic, gets the christmas spriit perfectly and uses the characters just as flawlessly. I will defintely be watching this one every year. Just a warm, creative, funny as hell special. 

2. Comfort and Joy (Justice League) Speaking of reviews I held off reviews of my final two so I could save more thoughts here. I probably still will review them eventually, especially this one, I just felt i’d be repeating myself or have to be brief like the last one. But yeah this one slaps. The Justice League cartoon is easily one of the best superhero cartoons, if not superhero properties, period. Taking the base already built in from the previous three dcau cartoons, this one builds out the world and expands it , and introduced a young me to my lifelong loves of Martian Manhunter, The Flash and especailly the green lanterns with John Stewarts badass reciting of the oath easily etched in my brain. The only reason he isn’t my faviorite lantern is because mogo exists.. aka the lantern that is a living planet. 

You can see why. But yeah Jon stuck in my mind. So it’s probably no suprise that the christmas special heavily featuring all three. It’s Christmas Time and after the league stops it’s usual disaster, they head off for their usual holiday activities. Batman and Wonder Woman are missing, but it’s fine. While I love both, especailly DCAU Batman, the episode is probably better off not trying to shove them in there just for the sake of it. One of the show’s greatest strength’s was character ballance, not forcing EVERY member of the big 7 into every episode and just using whose needed and shuffling them in and out FAR BETTER than say, Ducktales. Point is this, much like being loved by anyone, was not unusual and it makes the episode tighter. Even more so since this is the ONLY half hour episode in the first two seasons, the rest are basically hour long episodes split into two parters, though still paced for being two episodes so it’s good.. and three movie length three parters for the premire, and the season finales. Fun Fact: As a kid I missed starcrossed and thus had to find out second hand, and barely at that, why hawkgirl was gone at the start of unlimited. I still have not seen it. I will correct this eventually. It was a diffrent time. 

So yeah this episode not only has a main character cast of 6, with 3 other major supporting characters, but is handily split into three amazing plot lines. The first has Green Lantern try to teach Hawkgirl how to have christmas fun by playing on a snowy world, while Hawkgirl takes him to a bar to show how she celebrates.. i.e. getting hammered and starting a fight. Nanananana, she’s gonna start a fight. It’s a fun really sweet segment, and some nice ship tease between the two.  The other two though are what make this special.. not that the first one is bad these two are just really inspiried for the characters involved: For the Flash, who in this series is both Wally and a bit of a smug quipster.. we see beneath the ego and flirting he’s really a sweet, caring guy and spends his christmas finding a toy for the orphans in this case a rapping duck. 

Not QUITE as embarassing btu close. He runs into the Ultra Humanite whose destroying the toys because he hates the comercialism and how it dumbs things down for the kids. Have I mentioned that I love the Ultra Humanite? Because I do.. the animated version. The comics version is REALLY fucking creepy but this version? He’s fucking great, an intellectual whose a formidable threat.. and honestly sympathetic. His motive here, while misguided, is well meaning and his price for selling out the injustice gang and going back to jail quitely? one of the best gags in human history. Getting PBS to say “This program was supported by viewers like you.. and the ultra humanite” He’s just awesome and i’ts a shame he never returned for unlimited. His comic version, while not BAD is just.. not NEARLY as intresting or deep and I wish the comics would have him take after this version.  And that depth shows as once he learns what was going on, he willingly helps flash and simply reprograms the duck to recite the nutcracker. It’s a really nice gesture, that flash returns by giving his foe a christmas tree. Really good stuff.  And I saved the best for last. Heading home for the holidays, Clark takes Jonn with him since otherwise he’d be stuck at the watchtower and batman was apparnetly “Begging” for duty. Granted one wonders what his surrogate dad and adopted sons think but odds are alfred would just drag them up there anyway no mater how much Dick protested. And of course Alfred has watchtower clearance, he’s alfred: he’s the only one besides Diana looking out for bruce.. and no I don’t buy the bullshit from the batman beyond comics that never happened. And Clark too, this is true... but it takes a village to get bruce to go the fuck to sleep and most of that villiage is alfred. And if your wondering “wait won’t he be in danger”... the only thing that can kill this man is apparently bane. He’s survivied earthquakes, poisonings, turning into a supervillian via radaition induced crazies, yes really, apparently dying leading to the supervillian thing, being stabbed, being shot at, having to help raise damien... my point is the guy’s been through a lot in comics, I doubt the dcau version is any less resilent and god damn I miss this old man. Salute alfred, salute.  Where was I oh yeah, Clark insists on taking John home. And it’s stuff like this why I freaking love superman. Many dismiss him as corny, unrelaistic or boring.. all untrue. Sure he’s a boyscout, but he’s meant ot resprsent the best in mankind, what we can truly be powers or no, what we can achieve and the kind of moral, kind person we can be. He’s an inspiration for us all. And this kind of act is what shows that: his response to one of his friends having nowhere to go on christmas and not having been around the holiday? Take him to his house to share in the warmth and love.  And Clark’s parents here show WHY he’s the hero he is and why I freaking love them in all flavors.. except Zack Snyder flavor and even then tha’ts only for Pa “Letting people die is the right thing to do now i’m going to throw myself into a tornado to prove that” kent. But it’s christmas so i’m not here to bitch about zack snyder and if you want that in full, you can pay for it.  My point is they show, as they should how he became the moral paragon he is: they meet a man from mars, who they’ve never met and their son just invited.. and welcmoe him without a thought. While this isnt’ their first alien obviously, and they say so, it’s still really sweet they just warmly welcome the man in and give him their surrogate daughter/their sons’ biological cousin’s room while sh’es away. Oh Kara’s away conveniently skiing with barbra. Also she lives with them in this continuity. Also maybe that’s where dick is. I dunno, but I hope so. Dickbabs for life.. depending on the continuity. I”m still dick and star for life in the titans cartoon.  Point is we get nice of sweet, and hilaroius, holiday stuff: Jonn is suprised to see this side of clark: while he’s always warm and inviting as Clark.. he can also be relaxed, enjoy the holiday and get real spirited. For one day he dosen’t have to be superman. He can just be clark. Evne superman can take a day off.. and he’s superman, he desrves one. Let Bruce and Diana take care of it after they finish marathon sex and Diana finshes with Cheetaah and Maxwell lord.  But yeah as I was saying hilarious as we find out clark used to peak and they had to, and still do, line it with lead foil to make sure he can’t peak, and Martha gives John a sweater, saying his company is all they need for a gift and when it’s a bit big he charmingly grows into it. Jonn also walks among the humans a bit and we get a great little bit of him sneaking down a chimney after hearing the thorughts of a girl whose worried santa isn’t real. It’s just all great stuff that cumilates in Jonn joyfully singing a song in his native tounge while stroking Kara’s cat Streaky.. who sadly does not have a cape or super powers in this universe. Yet. Just a really good superhero story, a damn fine christmas story and one of the best episodes of a stellar show that thankfully is still remembered in this new age of heroes. 

1. It’s Christmas You Dorks (Harvey Beaks) Yup not probably a lot of people’s first choice but fuck it. I’ve loved this one since i saw it a few years ago shorlty after the series ended, having grown far behind and caught up just as it was ending... and regretted it as Harvey Beaks is easily one of my faviorite shows from the wall to wall hit parade that was the 2010′s. It’s charming, hilaroius, heartfelt, and creative.. and really weird if not as weird as CH Greenblaht’s previous show chowder.. but still weird enough.Thankfully Big City Greens is carying the banner for this kind of show, as is Craig of the Creek, so the kind of gentle, slice of life stuff hasn’t gone away, but this show was still it’s own thing and i’m sad it’s gone.  But while it was here it was spectacular and this is one of the best of em if not the best. And naturally for a show like this it has a neat approach: The episode is dialouge free, only having some singing in the last act and that’s diagetic, the characters singing a christmas song. We’ll get to that. This isn’t the FIRST silent christmas special i’ve seen, Courage the Cowardly dog did it’s own take on the nutcracker, but it’s still the best. And given Courage the Cowardly Dog is one of my faviorite shows, that’s high praise. Each segment is charming, unique, and well done. 

As for what each are: The wraparound is a gorgeously animated bit of stop motion or something like it where the spirit of winter goes around and turns fall to winter or helps the kid with winter fun. It’s a bunch of really adorable stuff. The first proper one is the kids having a snowball fight when a bunch of asshole adults interupt, and hte kids end up getting even by hiding in some snowmen. Again just some really fun, really well done stuff.  But the first one that really makes it follows Technobear, local wannabe ladies man in training who has a crush on Harvey’s mom and fantasies about giving her some lovely read shoes and skating with her. His hopes are dashed when instead her daughter michelle, the horrifing baby child pictured above, takes them instead. But not only is it heartwarming to see the stone faced future rule of the world crack a smile, Techno instnatly realizes whats’ improtant and takes the bby ice skating.  The next segment is just some goofy googus with the squirrels, the local crooks who are also squirreels, but it’s still pretty good. We then get Jeremy trying to be santa which is both funny but genuinely heartwarming and finally the best bit as Dade, local killjoy, gets annoyed at everyone singing a popular new christmas song instead of the old standard he likes and being a dick about it before softening a bit when Harvey genuinely offers him camradere. It’s just.. good stuff that’s hard to put into words, and given putting it into words is my thing, it really speaks to just hwo good this special is. it just, makes me feel nice, and really gets the spirit of the holiday in all it’s forms. It’s gorgeously aniamted, well paced, and never stops being entertaining and that’s why it’s both my faviorite and why every year.. i’ll be coming back to little bark. And if nothing else.. it’ll keep this warm, great show alive in my heart.  So with that I end this list. If you didn’t like it tha’ts fine, this is my opinon. But I wanted to share my faviorites with you and hope you’ll check them out this or next chirstmas. Until we meet again... Merry Christmas to all,and to all a good night. 

[spottedseal-archive]

                                          𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝

                                                     @ragehowl​

 𝐈.          𝐈𝐓  𝐖𝐀𝐒  𝐎𝐍𝐄  𝐎𝐅  𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐎𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄  𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐃  𝐁𝐘  *𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓  𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒*,  𝐅𝐀𝐑  𝐓𝐎𝐎  𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐆  𝐓𝐎  𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐃  𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆  𝐎𝐅  𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄    —  𝐘𝐄𝐓  𝐎𝐋𝐃  𝐄𝐍𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇  𝐓𝐎  𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐃  𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐖𝐀𝐘  𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑  𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒  𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐓  𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐈𝐃𝐋𝐘,  𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐋𝐘  𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐓  𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑  𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐒.      butterflies  fluttering  around  his  stomach  wildly,  held  him  back  from  even  speaking  words,  anything  slipping  passed  his  lips  were  a  murmured  mess  of  stutters.  her  beauty  knew  no  bounds  —  to  owen,  there  was  no  one  prettier  —  his  fingers  interlocked  with  hers  as  his  eyes  stare  into  hers,  lovingly  —  he  can  only  bring  himself  to  meet  her  smile  with  his  own.  they’d  snuck  out  of  their  duties  —  sure,  he  was  a  bad  influence  at  times,  but  there  were  plenty  of  guards,  and  if  anything  they  could  blame  their  carelessness  of  her  father,  following  in  his  example,  or  some  excuse  along  those  lines.  ❛  i  wish  that  we  could  stay  here  forever  —  i  like…  uh…  i    really  like  being  with  you,  abby.  ❜  it  was  a  huge  understatement,  but  what  else  was  he  to   say,  love?  he  didn’t  know  the  feeling  outside  of  familial,  but  if  there  was  anything  that  would  come  close  to  what  his  thought  surrounding  love  were,  it  was  abby.  ❛  you’re  so  pretty,  sure,  you  can  be  kinda  mean  sometimes  —  ❜  he  gives  a  small  laugh  nudging  her  gently  —  god  when  she  smiled  he  could  feel  his  face  flush  red  his  heartfelt  as  though  it  would  burst  from  his  chest,  overfilled  with  emotions.  ❛  i  really  think  i  am  in  love  with  you,  abigail  anderson.  ❜  he  exhales  breathlessly  —  she  leaves  him  speechless.  he  leans  in  slowly  —  he’s  scared  of  messing  up,  but  when  she  doesn’t  push  him  away,  in  fact  when  she  moves  forward  towards  him,  he  can’t  help  but  crack  a  smile  before  his  lips  meet  hers  —  its  like  magic,  sparks  as  soon  as  his  lips  touch  hers.  it  was  love  —  he  didn’t  care  what  anyone  else  thought  —  he  was  madly  in  love  with  her.          

 𝐈𝐈.          𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓  𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃  𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇  𝐀  𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒  —  𝐀  𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐃  𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐄  𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐃  𝐁𝐘  𝐀  𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇,  𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐒  𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒  𝐈𝐒  𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍  𝐇𝐄  𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐙𝐄𝐃  𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍  𝐒𝐇𝐄  𝐖𝐀𝐒  𝐇𝐈𝐒  𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆,  𝐇𝐈𝐒  𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒  𝐋𝐈𝐓  𝐔𝐏  𝐁𝐘  𝐇𝐄𝐑  𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐄,  𝐒𝐔𝐂𝐇  𝐀  𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐋𝐄  𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐕𝐄  𝐎𝐍  𝐇𝐄𝐑  𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐇.      sorrow  is  an  odd  thing  —  when  dealing  with  grief,  how  are  you  expected  to  handle  it?  owen  was  unsure…  he  could  hardly  bring  himself  to  cry,  he  felt  as  though  he  was  dreaming  —  his  whole  family  gone  in  an  instant  and  now  he  felt  truly  alone  —  hugging  his  knees  close  to  his  chest  his  breath  is  uneven  and  wild.  she  steadies  him  when  her  hands  are  placed  onto  his  knees.  ❛  abby…  ❜  its  a  weak  whisper  with  a  smile,  he  laughs  painfully  —  he  thinks  himself  an  idiot…  how  distraught  did  he  look,  cooped  up  in  his  room  hugging  himself  —  he  never  meant  to  make  anyone  worry  for  him,  but  by  the  look  in  her  eyes,  he  could  see  that  she  was  just  that; worried.  when  she  offered  a  smile  of  comfort  he  let  his  walls  fall,  and  the  tears  along  with  them,  he  cried  silently  —  he  presses  a  tear-soaked  kiss  to  her  hands  that  are  still  placed  on  his  knees.  they  sit  in  silence  —  it's  a  moment  that  will  stick  with  him  until  the  day  he  dies  —  he  was  pathetic  yet  she  didn’t  look  upon  him  with  pitying  eyes,  rather  she  offered  him  comfort,  she  was  strong  where  he  was  weak.  she  was  everything  he  wasn’t.  ❛  thank  you.  ❜  a  hoarse  whisper  breaks  through  his  silent  sobs.          

 𝐈𝐈𝐈.          𝐀  𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒  𝐓𝐎  𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐋𝐋  𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐒  𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓  𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐆𝐔𝐄𝐃  𝐇𝐄𝐑  𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐏  —  𝐇𝐄’𝐃  𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐘  𝐔𝐏  𝐀𝐋𝐋  𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓  𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇  𝐇𝐄𝐑,  𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆  𝐇𝐄𝐑  𝐓𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐋𝐘  𝐓𝐎  𝐇𝐈𝐒  𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐓  𝐈𝐅  𝐈𝐓  𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐓  𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐆  𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊  𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓  𝐈𝐍  𝐇𝐄𝐑  𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒.      she  shakes  violently  —  it  tears  him  apart  as  he  watches  her,  it  causes  rage  to  boil  inside  of  him,  this  is  what  she  had  become  —  broken  and  haunted  by  the  memories.  he  cursed  himself  mostly,  if  only  he  had  been  strong  enough  to  stop  joel,  if  only  he  had  been  strong  enough  to  stop  her  from  seeing  her  fathers  corpse,  maybe  all  of  this  would  hurt  less,  though  he  knew  that  was  far  from  the  truth,  he’d  experienced  loss,  but  not  like  this  —  her  pain  was  tearing  her  apart  inside  and  out.  his  fingers  gently  tuck  stray  pieces  of  hair  behind  her  ear.  he  leans  down  and  presses  a  kiss  to  her  temple  —  a  small  hint  of  regret  hits  him  as  she  awakens  violently.  ❛  hey  —  hey…  shh…  its  just  me.  ❜  he  quickly  pulls  her  into  his  arms.  ❛  i’ve  got  you,  abby.  ❜  he  holds  her  whispering  words  of  comfort  until  he  can  quietly  lull  her  back  to  sleep  —  though  his  eyes  were  heavy,  she  was  more  important  than  sleep,  her  pain  was  ever-present,  and  it  brought  about  his  own.  he  couldn’t  add  fuel  to  her  fire  —  he  had  to  be  her  constant  peace,  he  would  fight  to  make  sure  she  would  know  happiness  again  —  he’d  do  anything  to  make  sure  this  anger  doesn’t  consume  her.  ❛  i  love  you,  abby.  ❜  he  whispers,  pressing  yet  another  kiss  to  her  tearstained  face.            

 𝐈𝐕.         𝐀  𝐏𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐎  𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃  𝐎𝐔𝐓  𝐎𝐅  𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄,  𝐒𝐇𝐄  𝐈𝐒  𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐃  𝐁𝐘  𝐇𝐄𝐑  𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄  𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒  —  𝐇𝐄  𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃  𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐘  𝐅𝐎𝐑  𝐇𝐄𝐑  𝐓𝐎  𝐒𝐄𝐄  𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓  𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄  𝐈𝐒  𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄  𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐘  𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍  𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐄  𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓  𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐒  𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄  𝐇𝐄𝐑  —  𝐒𝐇𝐄  𝐈𝐒  𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐄  𝐎𝐅  𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐒𝐔𝐍  —  𝐓𝐎  𝐇𝐈𝐌  𝐒𝐇𝐄  𝐈𝐒  𝐌𝐄𝐒𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐙𝐈𝐍𝐆,  𝐓𝐎  𝐇𝐈𝐌  𝐒𝐇𝐄  𝐈𝐒  𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓,  𝐒𝐇𝐄  𝐈𝐒  𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄.      with  each  stroke  he  pours  his  heart  and  soul  into  the  painting  —  her  favorite  flowers  surrounding  her,  lighting  up  her  life  in  the  for  of  art  —  at  least  that  is  the  idea,  he  was  a  hopeless  romantic  at  times  —  especially  when  it  came  to  abby,  she  had  him  by  the  heartstrings  and  he’d  do  anything  to  bring  about  a  smile  to  her  constant  pout.  though  imperfect  in  his  artistic  skills,  he  worked  hardest  on  abby,  no  matter  how  much  he  worked,  he  couldn’t  capture  her  beauty,  no  matter  how  much  he  had  improved  at  painting,  drawing,  none  of  it  mattered,  with  each  passing  day  she  got  more  and  more  mesmerizing.  he  found  himself  awestruck  by  her  —  where  he  was  simple.  there  was  a  part  of  him  that  was  afraid  of  losing  her,  perhaps  he  was  lost  in  the  clouds  too  often,  he  was  a  dreamer  who  dreamt  of  the  day  they  could  have  peace  —  abby  wanted  her  justice,  and  a  part  of  owen  wanted  it  too,  he  couldn’t  deny  that  joel  had  torn  away  parts  of  himself  that  he  desperately  wanted  back,  his  strength  had  changed  though  —  𝗁𝖾  𝗐𝖺𝗌  𝗌𝗍𝗋𝗈𝗇𝗀  𝗂𝗇  𝖽𝗂𝖿𝖿𝖾𝗋𝖾𝗇𝗍  𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌  —  there  is  strength  in  forgiveness  —  but  he  couldn’t  string  together  words  to  make  abby  believe  in  him,  hell,  he  could  hardly  convince  himself  of  this.  as  he  stroked  away  at  the  painting,  his  thoughts  filled  with  her  —  how  she  used  to  smile  when  there  wasn’t  a  lingering  pain  behind  her  eyes,  his  heart  sank.  ❛  she’s  gonna  hate  it.  ❜  he  laughed  to  himself  as  he  stared  at  the  mess  of  wet  paint  on  the  canvas.  he  presses  his  paint-stained  hands  to  his  lips  and  to  the  painted  abbys.  ❛  one  day  you’ll  be  this  happy  again,  abby  —  won’t  rest  til  you  are.  ❜  he  laughs  once  more  at  himself  —  how  stupid  he  must  be  to  speak  to  his  poorly  painted  portrait  of  abby.  ❛  i’ll  bring  back  your  smile  —  promise.  we’ll  be  happy  again.  ❜              

 𝐕.        𝐀  𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐁𝐘𝐄  𝐂𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃  𝐈𝐍  𝐑𝐄𝐃  —  𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐒  𝐍𝐎  𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐘  𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆  𝐅𝐎𝐑  𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌,  𝐇𝐄  𝐖𝐀𝐒  𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐏𝐈𝐃  𝐓𝐎  𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐕𝐄  𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄  𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑  𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃  𝐁𝐄.  𝐇𝐎𝐖  𝐇𝐄  𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐒  𝐓𝐎  𝐒𝐄𝐄  𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓  𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐄  𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐄  𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄,  𝐓𝐎  𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑  𝐇𝐄𝐑  𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐄𝐑  𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓  𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐃  𝐇𝐈𝐌  𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇  𝐒𝐎  𝐌𝐔𝐂𝐇  𝐉𝐎𝐘  —  𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓  𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐃  𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒  𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓  𝐇𝐀𝐃  𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐃  𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑  𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐒  𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄  𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇  𝐎𝐅  𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑  𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘.      he  lies  in  a  pool  of  his  own  blood,  red  running  from  the  sides  of  his  mouth,  he  can  do  naught  but  choke  on  his  own  blood  —  his  last  thoughts  are  of  her,  he  wonders  if  she’ll  get  the  final  note  he  wrote  to  her  that  he  shoved  into  a  pocket  of  his  backpack,  his  eyes  are  wet  and  red  as  the  pain  surges  through  him,  he  can  feel  his  consciousness  slipping,  he  tries  his  best  to  hold  on  —  just  to  see  her  one  last  time…  to  say  his  final  goodbye,  but  its  unrealistic,  by  the  time  she  returns  with  lev  and  yara,  he’ll  be  cold,  and  gone  forever.  he’d  hurt  her  for  the  final  time  —  he’d  never  get  the  chance  to  apologize  for  all  of  the  pain  he  put  her  through,  instead  he  would  take  it  to  his  cold,  shallow  grave.                                  𝐭𝐡𝐞  𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭  𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬  𝐡𝐞’𝐝  𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫  𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞  𝐭𝐨  𝐡𝐞𝐫:            i  feel  silly  writing  this  abby,  as  I’m  writing  this,  there’s  so  much  i  wish  i  could  get  on  this  stupid  piece  of  paper,  but  feelings  don’t  really  work  like  that,  and  you  know  me.  i  was  never  too  good  with  writing  out  my  feelings.  we’ve  been  through  so  much  together,  abs.  if  you  die  on  that  goddamn  island  i  will  never  forgive  myself.  i  wanted  to  come  with  you,  i  wanted  to  help  you.  to  help  lev.  i  know…  i  know  everything  with  mel  and  us  is  so  messed  up  right  now…  but  you…  you  still  have  my  heart  abby… i  love  you,  god,  i  love  you  so  much.  do  you  remember  when  we  first  found  this  aquarium?  abby  i  know  that  we  can  make  this  work…  just  come  back  to  me.  please  come  back  to  me  and  bring  those  kids  back  safe…  i’ll  be  here  waiting  for  you  so  we  can  leave  together,  and  find  the  fireflies.  together.  lets find  our  home.                                                                                owen,  your  “uber  goober”