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[my-travel-mart]

Best online Travel Agency for Flights

[chrysalite]

More from Meow Wolf's Omega Mart~

[shinobicyrus]

I've seen a lot of posts about Batman using his Bruce Wayne alter ego for the good of Gotham: job programs for felons released from prison, orphanages, charities, high wages for his employees, ethical business practices...the legendary post where Bruce Wayne goes to Wal-Mart.

Thus far I've never personally seen anybody really dig into the persona of Bruce Wayne the Billionaire Playboy. A handsome, rich, powerful man who always is seen at fancy galas, art openings, charity dinners, and wild parties with at least one beautiful woman on his arm.

We know Bruce Wayne is the mask, and its Batman who has a...complex love life, depending on the iteration we're talking about. Talia, Catwoman, sometimes Wonder Woman.

Bruce Wayne's dates, on the other hand, are all "normal" people. Maybe they're an aspiring actress, a supermodel, a prima ballerina, the occasional reporter...and every time there's that bit of nervousness at the start.

Sure everyone knows Bruce Wayne. Everyone knows the story with him. Sometimes his wilder parties make the news, but there's never really been anything nasty reported about him. Never...allegations. But he's a billionaire. He's one of the most powerful people in the whole city, nevermind the country. If he did have some skeletons in his closet. Well. Men with power have a way of making those kinds of stories go away, don't they?

As time goes on the Date's fears dissipate pretty quickly. Bruce Wayne is nothing but polite, kind, and at times charmingly awkward in an 'raised by his butler in a mansion' kind of way with his dates. Some of them can tell he's holding back, of course. Maybe the more perceptive Dates notice he's smarter than he lets on - playing the himbo or hamming up the "know-nothing rich boy" act to the cameras or some of his wealthy peers.

He also listens, is the thing. He's always listening to what they're saying, is interested in hearing about their careers, their hobbies, their lives. Really listens, too. Might refer to something a Date said weeks later off-hand. Buy out the whole museum for a private dinner date with a famous painting from an obscure artist they like, or a private performance with another's favorite band.

He has anecdotes and funny stories for days that somehow says very little about his personal life. The Dates know he has kids (it's practically a running gag in the news that Bruce Wayne has adopted yet another orphan) and maybe she might spot one of them at the mansion, but Bruce seems very keen to shelter them from any intense spotlight and scrutiny, and they all seem happy if a bit weird like him.

Eventually, there's drifting. He's a very busy man, with a very busy schedule. On more than on occasion his nice old butler will call and extend apologies that Mr. Wayne will not be able to make it this evening. Sometimes it's virtually impossible to get a hold of him over the phone. After a while they stop trying. None of them feel quite surprised by that. In the end, it just doesn't work. Sure, he's a little distant and doesn't make himself emotionally available...but he's not a bad person.

Especially when the so-called "exes" of Bruce Wayne start networking. Gotham isn't a small city, but the social circles Bruce Wayne travels in aren't as big. They don't quite gossip or complain about him. More like...who else would get it?

(I touched his side once and he winced...like he'd been hurt real bad there. He laughed and said it was tackle polo. How does that even-?)

(Somehow, after two dates, he saw right through me and listened while I told him what that casting director tried to do. He nodded, gave me the contact details of a law firm, and said not to worry about the legal fees.)

(I don't know for sure it was him, but it can't be a coincidence that my building got bought out from under my shitty landlord and we were all able to buy our apartments under market value.)

(He got my brother in the best rehab program in the city after his relapse. It probably saved his life. We'd stopped dating months ago, I still don't know how he found out.)

(He gave me a card with a phone number and told me that if I was ever in trouble to call it. Said one of his cars would come to pick me up, any time, any place, no questions asked. The one time I did have to use it after a bad party, it was Alfred.)

I think any tabloid reporter digging around for salacious stories or dirt about Bruce Wayne's love life would be completely and politely stonewalled when they try asking his former Dates. Even when money is offered. Every single one of them.

[homunculus-argument]

I may be swinging a fruit bat in a room full of hornet's nests here, but do americans know that most of the world doesn't look the way the US does? Like, specifically concerning ethnic diversity.

Coming from Europe, the fist time I went to the US, I was shocked by it, not in a negative way but in the same "wow, that's a real thing?" sort of way as western people finding out that there actually are that kind of pillar mountains in China, or americans who had never seen Fjord Horses in anything but the movie Frozen finding out that those fantastical yellow ponies are actually real.

And it wasn't some "backcountry rural hick sees Different Colour Person for the first time and dies of shock" sort of a thing. I had travelled before, and at 19 I considered myself quite worldly enough to go to a different continent I had never been on to go meet up a man from the internet, all by myself. I had been all over Europe from Iceland to St. Petersburg and from Norway to France, I have travelled. It was a slow realisation that it's turtles all the way down, that actually got me.

Being in an airport, going from one airport to another, I wasn't surprised by the sheer range of different kinds of people I saw. Airports just look like that, all over the world. Taking one flight after another, I didn't pay much attention to that, because airports just look like that. The "wait, holy shit" didn't hit me until I was already in rural Kentucky, in a fucking Wal-Mart. And if you're an american and the thought of a late teens nordic kid stepping foot into a Wal-Mart for the frist time and thinking "wow, this is actually what America looks like, all the time" makes you want to get defensive, it was by no means a negative feeling.

It was like looking into a bag of M&Ms. That's the only way I could describe it. Every single fucking person, group or family that I saw was apparently different colour and creed than the last ones who passed by. I had never seen black women with styled hair before because in Finland almost every single black woman you see is muslim and their hair is covered. I was used to the concept of large cities being more diverse, in FInland larger cities are the places where you're most likely to see people who aren't white. And I was stunned by just how colourful the population was in goddamn Beaver Dam, Kentucky.

I'm not trying to make any kind of a political point here. I'm just talking from my own experience as a Chronically Online European who has actually been abroad: City streets that look the way they do in the US are completely foreign to most people who are not american. And every time you people start complaining about why a game that's set in Poland, made by polish creators who have never been outside of Poland, only has polish people in it, they genuinely do not know what the hell you're talking about.

[puckinghischier]

Jersey Talk

nico hischier x fem!reader, jack hughes x platonic!reader, luke hughes x platonic!reader

summary: reader finds herself engaging in a lot of jersey talk

notes: part 3 of my lil unnamed nico series!! i loved writing this part and hope you enjoy it as much as i do 🥹 also, i didn’t really proofread so ignore any mistakes. and just a disclaimer, i don’t claim to know everything there is to know about any of the players mentioned in my writing, so if there’s inaccuracies on timelines or personality traits, just ignore them and assume it’s for the plot 😌

p.s.!! i’m thinking about starting a tag list for this/any of my writing i post so if you want to be a part of that, let me know!!

part 1, part 2, part 4

[6.4k]

You absolutely love how foot travel friendly New Jersey is. Coming from an area where foot travel is virtually nonexistent, the change is a welcomed one. You appreciate being able to simply grab your favorite totes, your headphones, and make the fifteen-minute walk to the small corner store. Surely in the winter you’ll feel differently about the five-block trek, but hopefully you’ll have your car by then. For now, the comfortable Autumn air makes the walk enjoyable. The fresh air, the beautiful buildings, and the surprising friendliness of the strangers you pass on the street make you feel like you made the right decision in relocating your life to the garden state.

Luckily this grocery run was fairly light, only needing to pick up some essentials until one of the boys gives you a ride to the larger chain grocery store on one of their upcoming off days. You really just needed the ingredients to make dinner tonight, making good on your promise to be their personal shopper and occasional chef in exchange for a place to live. You even stopped in a small bakery about a block from your apartment and picked up a few assorted pastries for a sweet treat later, knowing how much Luke loves his dessert.

As you walk into the apartment, courtesy of your shiny new key Jack gave you last week, you see both him and Luke on the couch, each with one hand on an iPad held out so both could view the contents on the screen. You assume they’re watching game film, preparing for their game later in the week against the Rangers. Your assumption is confirmed when you hear the unmistakable sound of sticks slapping against pucks and ice coming from the iPad in question.

They’re both so engrossed in the game film on the screen that they have no clue that you’ve even walked through the door. You make your way to the kitchen to unload what’s in your hands, putting away what little groceries you bought. Once you’re finished in the kitchen, you make your way back out into the living room, wanting to catch up with your roommates on how their midday practice had gone. As you walk towards the living area, rounding the loveseat adjacent to the sectional where the boys sit, Luke catches your moving figure from the corner of his eye. His body jerks slightly, clearly startled until he notices its only you.

“Oh my god you just scared the shit out of me,” you hear him exhale, holding his hand to his chest.

You just chuckle as you see Jack whip his head up, confused as to what Luke was referring to until he saw you sitting down, tucking your feet up under your legs to get comfortable.

“When did you get home? Have you been here the whole time?” Jack asks, pausing the game film and sitting the iPad on the small coffee table in the center of the room.

“No, you two were just lost in hockey land when I came in. I went to the corner mart a few blocks down to get stuff to make dinner, then put it all away before coming in here. Thought I’d give you guys a few more minutes before I came in here and interrupted,” you replied, resting your chin on your hands that are placed on the arm of the loveseat.

“Well, you have our full attention now. What’s up?” Jack leans back into the couch once again, stretching his arms above his head.

“Just wanted to talk to my boys. See how practice went today. Figure out how you guys are going to fare against the Rags,” you throw in a small dig at their biggest rival team.

“The Rags? Since when do you participate in hockey talk?” Luke chimes into the conversation, laughing slightly at your attempt to assimilate into the world of hockey.

“Since I overheard a conversation at this cute little bakery down the street. While I was waiting in line there was a man in front of me with a Devils hat on and the guy working the counter was asking him about his thoughts on the game this week. He was talking about how much he wishes ‘the boys can pull their heads out of their asses and beat the damn Rags’ and I thought it was funny. Figured I should probably adopt the local vernacular if I want to fit in around here. You know, participate in the Jersey talk,” you recall with a shrug of your shoulders.

The two brothers let out a little chuckle at your story, amused at your attempt to insert yourself into their world. The two of them and Quinn taught you a lot about how hockey is played and the rules over the years, but their hope of you fully getting involved in all of the aspects of hockey and the fanbase quickly dissolved. They would sit and force you to watch reruns of games with them over the summer at the lake, and you would sit there and whine because of how badly you wanted to go out on the boat or drive the golf cart down to the local ice cream shop, not listening to a single word the trio would say to you. Once you made the decision to move in with the two youngest brothers, you figured you should probably put a little more effort into the whole hockey fan experience, considering you would likely be attending games on a regular basis.

“Well, we’ve been preparing for the Rags, so that old man in the bakery can rest easy knowing we’re working our asses off, which our heads aren’t in, by the way,” Jack speaks, correcting the stranger’s statement.

“Yeah, we’re doing really well, actually. We keep splitting the team up and forcing one half to mimic the Rangers and some of their techniques, so we’re actually getting really good at stopping them from getting the puck into our zone. Plus, our goalies are putting out some insane stops during practice, so I really think we’ve got this in the bag,” Luke adds, excited to showcase their hard work.

You’ve noticed that practices must have been hard for the boys this week. A lot of naps and ibuprofen consumed. You haven’t really seen much of them, if you’re being honest. They’re usually gone by the time you wake up in the mornings and so tired by the time they come home that they go straight to the couch or their bedrooms and fall asleep. By the time they wake up from their naps you’re usually already cooking dinner, at least getting to chat a bit while you cook. After finishing dinner they’re back to the couch, watching game film or heading back to the arena for various events and strategy meetings. They go to bed fairly early, considering all of their early morning starts, so evenings are usually spent in your room by yourself watching tv or catching up with your friends back home. You suppose you should get used to spending time by yourself, though, knowing you’ll be here by yourself more often than not during the season.

They had a game in Boston a few days prior, leaving you with your apartment to yourself for the first time in the two weeks you’ve lived with them. They were only gone for one night, but it was definitely lonely. You really haven’t been here long enough to have an abundance of people to call up anytime Jack and Luke were unavailable, so you had passed the time by exploring the area around your apartment complex a little, finding the perfect park to go sit at to soak up some much-needed sunshine. You couldn’t hide your excitement when the two brothers returned home the next evening, though. You got up from the couch and ran over to the door, ready to greet them and ask them all about the game (you had watched it on tv, but you really just wanted to talk to someone after a full day with no one’s company but your own), but you were greeted with tired eyes and frowns, despite their win the previous night. You simply gave each of them a hug and then sent them off to bed, knowing once they got some sleep they would be up for conversation.

This is why, right now, even though you have zero knowledge of what preparing for a rival hockey game consists of, you’re taking in every word the two have to offer about the subject. You’re just happy to have a few uninterrupted minutes to sit and talk with them.

“Good! That’s great! Really…good,” you say, giving a thumbs up and awkward smile after failing to come up with a better response to Luke’s statements.

Luke just laughs, appreciating your attempts at interest in their jobs.

“You’re coming to the game, right? We put back a ticket for you, but if you can’t make it that’s okay, too. Got you a pretty sick seat, though. Glass seat, right beside the net,” Jack reveals, raising his eyebrows a bit, as if trying to convince you.

“Of course I’ll be there, I wouldn’t miss it for the world!” you exclaim, a little offended at the mere thought you’d skip out on such a big game for them.

“You won’t be disappointed, I swear. We’re gonna kick some major Rags ass,” Luke adds, excitement showing at the idea of you being in the crowd.

“The real question here shouldn’t be if I’m coming to the game or not. It’s whose jersey am I going to wear?” you throw out, poking fun at the two.

“Pshh, c’mon that one’s a no brainer. You’ll obviously wear mine, I’m your favorite,” Jack waves off your words, fully confident that you’ll agree with him.

“I don’t know, Rowdy. I feel like plenty of people will have 86 jerseys on. It is Moose’s rookie season, maybe I should wear his so he feels included.”

“Yeah, dickhead. You have a whole arena full of people wearing your number, she should wear mine. We all know it’s the better number anyways,” Luke retorts.

Jack rolls his eyes, opening his mouth to fire back an insult at Luke, but he’s cut off by a knock at the door. You look over at the two boys to see if they know who might be at the door, but both of their faces mirror your confused look. So much for your uninterrupted time with them.

“Did you guys invite someone over? Or should I be worried that there’s a murderer standing on the other side of our door right now,” you ask.

“Well first of all I don’t think a murderer would knock on the door. They would probably pick the lock or something. Isn’t the whole point of murdering someone to do it when they don’t see it coming?” Jack responds, standing up. “Second of all, it’s probably just Nico. I had mentioned watching game film together at practice earlier and he told me he’d see how he was feeling later. Kinda forgot about it, if I’m being honest, but this is around the time he wakes up from his post-practice nap.”

You sit up a little straighter when Jack mentions his teammate and captain. You hadn’t seen him since your first night in town about two weeks ago. You’d caught little bits of information about him in passing from both Jack and Luke, but tried to keep your questions about him to a minimum. The two of you were still practically strangers, not having had any reason to communicate after that night. You assume he’s been as busy as Jack and Luke, coming and going far more than you. Still, you’re surprised you haven’t even run into him once. You figure his captain duties keep him far busier than even Luke and Jack.

You hear the front door open and then two sets of voices making their way down the short hallway. You look over to see Nico in a hoodie and sweats, a hat hiding his long hair. You think back to that night at the bar when his hair was uncovered and he was having to push it out of his eyes for most of the night, wishing you could catch a glimpse of the brown locks right now. The two were continuing their short conversation from the door, so Nico had yet to acknowledge you or Luke yet. You look away, starting to pick at a loose thread on your socks, knowing you needed to avert your eyes before you were caught staring.

Unknown to you, Luke had already noticed your stare, observing how fixated you were on his captain. You look over to find Luke staring at you, an undecipherable expression on his face. You give him a puzzled look, as if to say ‘what?’ and he responds by simply shaking his head and shrugging his shoulders a bit.

“Oh, hey you two. How’s it going?” Nico’s voice pulls you from your silent conversation with Luke, noticing Jack was no longer next to him.

“Hey, man. How was your nap? Your shoulder okay?” Luke asks him, adjusting his body slightly on the couch to make room for Nico to sit down.

You turn your head to look at Nico once again, a small hint of worry surfacing. He doesn’t look injured? His arm isn’t in a sling or anything, and he’s not holding it in pain. You watch as he sits down to see if even the smallest wince makes its way across his face as his back comes to rest against the plush cushions. If he’s in any sort of pain, he’s not letting it show in his actions.

“Yeah, perfectly fine. Don’t give yourself that much credit, kid. You don’t hit nearly as hard as you think you do,” Nico chuckles, taking his hand and tapping Luke on the knee a few times.

“Trying to hurt your captain before a huge game, Luke?” you speak for the first time since Nico entered the apartment. “Maybe I should wear Jack’s jersey on Saturday.”

“I knew it! See, my jersey is clearly the better choice, Moose. Sucks to suck, huh?” Jack interjects with a grin, walking from the direction of the kitchen, glass of water in hand.

“Now c’mon, Y/N, that isn’t even fair. It was an accident!” Luke cries out. “We were running drills and I was trying to stop, but I misjudged and ran into Nico. He didn’t even hit the glass that hard, you heard him!”he argues, looking between you and his brother.

“All I’m saying is, it won’t look good if the rookie is the reason the captain can’t play against public enemy number one. Then you’ll become public enemy number one, and I can’t be caught at a game wearing the new public enemy’s jersey. I’m already a newcomer, I can’t tarnish my reputation this early,” you hold your hands up in defense.

“What have I just walked into?” Nico asks, eyes darting between the three of you.

“Well, right before you walked in, we were talking about which jersey Y/N was going to wear to the game on Saturday. I told her the obvious choice was mine, but she decided to spew some bullshit about there being too many 86 jerseys already, so she should wear Luke’s since he’s new and needs to feel included,” Jack uses finger quotes around the last part of his sentence.

“Well, she has a point.”

“See! Even Cap thinks so! That’s it, you’re wearing my jersey, Y/N. Cap’s word is final,” Luke leans back, taking in his assumed victory.

Your mind wanders back to Nico’s words he spoke to you at the bar a couple of weeks ago, wondering if Luke’s statement includes those words, too.

“Maybe I should be fair and not wear either jersey. Just go down the roster and pick a random name and then buy it,” you joke, watching the brothers widen their eyes like you just told them you ran over their childhood pet.

“That’s…not even funny. How dare you even joke about something so important,” Jack stares at you, seriousness painted on his features.

“C’mon, Y/N, that’s just…that’s just cruel,” Luke emphasizes the last word dramatically.

“I think you should do it. In fact, I have a spare jersey I think you can wear,” Nico adds, looking at you with mischievous eyes.

“Oh, well that actually sounds lovely, Nico, thank you! What better way to show my support at my first Devils game than sporting the captain’s jersey?”

Jack and Luke both turn their heads to glare at their captain sitting between them. If looks could kill, the poor Swiss man would be six feet under right now. The Hughes brothers don’t play around when it comes to their jerseys. You remember when you had gone to one of Luke’s games while he was playing for Michigan, wanting to buy a Michigan jersey in support, but the gift shop had run out of Luke’s number once he announced his contract with the Devils. You knew you could have simply asked him for a jersey, knowing he had several lying around his dorm room, but the trip was supposed to be a surprise.

You were forced to buy a random jersey with some lesser known last name on it, because you still wanted to show up in Michigan attire. You don’t even remember whose name and number it was, but you remember the look on Luke’s face when he saw you during warm ups, going from pure joy to disgust in seconds. He skated off, going to the locker room briefly before returning with a yellow Jersey that he then threw over the glass to your seat, motioning for you to put it on. You just laughed and did as you were told. You’ve had similar arguments with both Jack and Quinn over threatening to wear a teammates jersey over the years, but you just like to poke fun at how protective the three are over you. Jack explained to you that they want you to wear their jersey’s because it shows their teammates that you’re to be left alone, knowing the reputations of their fellow players.

“Cap, please don’t make me kick you out of this apartment right now,” Jack looks at Nico with complete seriousness.

“Maybe I need to work on my body checks in practice tomorrow, Cap,” Luke tries to threaten.

Nico simply laughs, shaking his head at the sudden unity between the two bickering brothers.

“Alright, chill out you two, all jokes. Unless…” You trail off, standing up.

“No, no unless. You’re wearing one of our jerseys, preferably mine. Hey! Where are you going, this is serious!” Jack yells after you as you walk towards the kitchen.

“Unless you want to starve tonight, someone has to start making dinner. Plus, I have some jersey shopping to do,” you say, hearing Nico’s laughter ringing out once more as you enter the kitchen.

———————————————————————————

“Hey, Nico! Are you staying for dinner? I need to know how much pasta to make!” you shout from your spot by the stove, having just sat down a large pot of water on the hot eye.

You walk over to the cabinet to grab the box of pasta and a couple jars of sauce, waiting for an answer from the living room. You decided to go with just simple spaghetti and salad tonight, not really in the mood for having to prep a ton of food and spend an hour and a half cooking. Jack will probably complain about the amount of carbs he’s consuming, but he’ll get over it. As if he doesn’t burn enough calories from practice and his personal workouts he does on a daily basis. Luke will just be happy to have something that isn’t chicken, seeing as that’s all you made for the first few days of your new living arrangement, trying to stick to the meal plan Jack had the nutritionist send you.

After the third night of some form of chicken and vegetables, Luke was quick to inform you that no one on the team follows the meal plan so strictly. You also learned that Jack is going through some phase of eating nothing but chicken or steak and brown rice, Luke revealing that’s what the two mostly lived on during the weeks leading up to your move. You had told Luke he should learn to cook for himself, and then he wouldn’t be forced to eat what Jack or you decide to make if he doesn’t like it, but he had rolled his eyes and told you “this was the agreement, right? We won’t let you pay rent, so you told us you would contribute by cooking. So really, I’m just helping you fulfill your roommate duties.”

You still don’t have an answer from the three in the living room. You figure they’re too busy with game film to hear you, so you decide to just make enough for Nico, too. You can always pack up the leftovers and have them for lunch the next few days if needed. You dump what you think to be the proper amount of pasta for four people into the pot once it reaches a boil, then work on pouring the sauce into a pan to let it heat up. You cheated on the salad, too, deciding to just buy two bags of salad mix, dumping the bag into a large bowl and adding the small packets of toppings. You’ve just dumped the now done pasta into the colander in the sink, turning to put the pot back onto the stove to cool off a bit when a voice causes you to nearly drop the hot pot in your hands.

“It smells delicious in here,” Nico announces his presence, walking through the doorway towards the fridge.

You settle yourself before setting the pot down safely on the stovetop before speaking. “You know, I really need to get on ordering those squeaky shoes if I want to avoid a heart attack by 25.”

Turning your body, you see Nico hunched over looking in the fridge, arm reaching towards a water bottle before raising up, flashing you a smile.

“Nah, even if you buy them I wouldn’t wear them. This is like, our thing now. Me sneaking up on you, you getting mad, me getting a good laugh out of it,” he stands back at his full height now.

“How comforting that you find enjoyment out of my jumpiness. Such an admirable trait to have,” you grumble, taking the pasta from the sink and transfer it into the pan filled with sauce. “I was going to ask if you wanted to stay for dinner, seeing as it looks like I made enough to feed the entire team, but I think I’ll just leave you to fend for yourself. See how funny that is.”

This earns another laugh, Nico moving to lean against the counter opposite of you, watching you try to combine the sauce and the pasta without making a giant mess.

“Why don’t you just put it back in the pot you cooked the pasta in. You’ll be able to mix it easier.”

“Because apparently that would have been too easy,” you step back and huff, wondering why you didn’t think of that before you created an overflowing mess of sauce and noodles.

Nico makes his way over to you, placing his hands on your shoulders to move you out of the way. He picks up the pan and dumps the contents into the pot sitting next to it, not spilling a single drop.

“There, now you can mix it easier and it won’t spill out over the sides and cause an even bigger mess,” he states, placing the dirty pan in the sink behind you.

“Okay, captain chef, next time you’re cooking dinner, since you clearly have more kitchen skills than me,” you tell him, making your way across the kitchen to collect plates to sit on the table.

Nico just chuckles as he watches you grab the plates, sitting one in front of each chair around the small dining table that sits in the kitchen.

“It smells so good in here, please tell me its almost done,” Jack enters the kitchen, Luke trailing behind him.

“It is, just finished actually,” you look up, Nico carrying the pot of steaming pasta from the stove to the table, careful not to drop it.

“Rowdy, grab the salad over there by the sink for me while I grab some forks for everyone,” you move towards the silverware drawer, walking around the Swiss man in your kitchen, having to turn your body slightly as he steps back from the table.

“Well, I better get going, my leftovers aren’t going to heat themselves up,” Nico announces, starting to make his way out of the kitchen.

“Cap, are you crazy? Do you not see how much food Bouy made?” Jack places the bowl of salad next to the pot of pasta, taking his seat at the table.

“Jack, I’m being so serious right now, if you keep using that stupid nickname for me I will sneak laxatives into your protein shakes.” You take the seat across from Jack, Luke falling into the seat to your left.

“Well, as long as it’s okay with Bouy, I’d love to stay.” Nico walks back over to the table, taking the seat next to Jack, smirking while avoiding eye contact with you.

“I know where you live, so the threat extends to you too, Cap” you glare at Nico.

The rest of the meal is mostly filled with talk between the three hockey players, you chiming in here and there, until Jack shifts the topic of conversation to you.

“So, what’s the update with your new job? You have everything lined up and ready to go?”

“Yeah, talked to them earlier today, actually. They said they’d have my office ready in about a week, so I should be starting not long after that.” You shrug, not wanting to bore them with the details of the corporate scene in New Jersey.

“Where are you going to be working?” Nico asks, genuine interest present in his tone, wiping his mouth with his napkin.

“I got offered a position with a small publishing company not too far from here, actually. Mostly independent, up and coming authors, but still exciting,” you reveal, perking up a bit at the opportunity to talk about your passion.

“Was super worried I wasn’t going to be able to use my degree after college, seeing as the market for English lit degrees isn’t too wide unless you want to teach. At least, that’s how it is back home. After I graduated and Jack offered the spare room here, I applied to a few positions here in Jersey and a few in New York, willing to make the commute if needed. Only heard back from one place, though. And it just so happened to be a thirty-minute drive from here, so I accepted and started packing,” you explained.

“It was meant to be. The gang back together once again,” Jack beams.

“Well, the gang minus Quinn. The fucker just had to end up in Vancouver of all places,” Luke grumbles, still upset the oldest Hughes is so far away.

“Lucky for us I can work remotely if I ever need or want to, so this summer at the lake we can all be together again,” you try to cheer Luke up, knowing how much he wishes the three brothers could have played on the same team while making their dreams come true.

“That’s what I’m talking about!” Jack celebrates. “This is going to be the best summer at the lake house yet. We’re all grown, most of us legal drinking age, but don’t worry, we won’t tell if you won’t, Lukey,” Jack winks over at Luke, knowing the underage drinking rule has never really applied in the sacred space of the lake houses, “and we’ll all finally be there together again after, what, like 6 years?”

“It’s been awhile, at least that long,” you try to think back to the last time everyone was there together.

It was the summer before Quinn got drafted. Quinn had signed to play hockey at Michigan a few months before everyone was set to arrive at the summer oasis. You remember being so proud of him. You couldn’t wait to finally see him and congratulate him in person, knowing how hard he had worked for it. You figured things would stay the same for a few more years, expecting him to come home every summer for the next four years before moving on to the NHL. You had no clue that he would be drafted only a summer later and that it would be the beginning of the end for the summers of fun at the lake house.

“Nico, you should come up this summer! It’s always such a good time!” Jack pulls you from your reminiscing.

“I mean, maybe. I’ve been talking to my parents about flying home during the off season this year, since I didn’t make it over there last year. But I could probably come for a few days, at least,” he shrugs his shoulders.

You try to picture Nico at the lake house, hat covering his hair, swim trunks and a t-shirt covering his body. You picture him lounging on the boat in the sun while Jack takes everyone out for a midday ride, finding a secluded spot somewhere on the lake to stop and swim for a while. You picture him trying to wake surf, wondering if he’d be instantly good at it or if he would end up wiping out in the water. You picture him sitting around the fire at night, a light hoodie on to the mask the chill that never fails to make an appearance on Michigan summer nights, the glow from the fire illuminating his face just enough for you to admire him. You picture him with a slight sunburn on his nose, tan skin glowing from being in the sun so often.

You must have been lost in your thoughts for longer than you realized, because you came back to the conversation with several calls of your name from the seat next to you.

“Are you even listening to us anymore? Or do you really not want Cap coming to the lake house?” Luke looks over at you, slightly waving his hand in front of your face.

“What? No,” you say, looking around at the expectant faces surrounding you. “I mean, no I don’t care if he comes. It would be fun, yeah. If he can make it, of course. You heard him, I’m sure he’s excited to see his family.”

“I’m sure I can work something out. Have the best of both worlds. These two have talked about the infamous lake house so much I’m curious to see if it really lives up to all the hype,” Nico leans back, nodding his head towards both Jack and Luke.

“Then its settled! Cap is coming to Michigan this summer!” Jack cheers, throwing his arms up in celebration.

You laugh in response to Jack’s excitement, noticing that everyone seems to be done eating, plates clean and glasses empty. You stand up and start to take some of the dishes to the sink, setting them in there before walking back over to the table.

“Since you’re in such a good mood, I think now would be the best time to tell you that you and Luke have dish duty tonight.” You clear the last of the dishes off the table.

You watch Jack’s face fall, while Luke’s does a sharp turn in your direction. You turn your back to them to walk back over to the counter, opening the cabinet below you to find Tupperware to store the leftovers in.

“On that note, I better get going. Have some laundry I need to get done before practice in the morning,” Nico stands, bringing over a few stray pieces of silverware you seemed to have missed.

“Oh, no you don’t, Cap. You heard her, she cooked, we clean,” Jack turns to look at his captain as he makes his way to the sink.

“No, I said you and Luke have dish duty tonight. Nico’s name was never mentioned. Guests don’t do the dishes, Jack. I know Ellen raised you better than that.”

“Nico is hardly a guest. He’s over here all the time!” Luke chimes in, opening one of the drawers by the sink, grabbing a towel to dry dishes with.

“He doesn’t pay any rent for the apartment, therefore he’s a guest. Just accept your fate, you two. You’ll survive, I promise.” You hand the pot you just emptied to Jack, taking the food in your hands to the fridge a few steps away.

“You don’t pay any rent, and you’re not a guest,” Jack mumbles, hands covered in soapy suds.

“Exactly! That means I don’t do the dishes, either. I knew you’d catch on eventually! And they say you’re just a pretty face,” you shut the fridge door, looking over at Jack with an amused grin.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it!” Jack whines.

“C’mon, man, you walked right into that one,” Nico adds, laughing at his teammate.

Jack glares at the taller man. “I thought you said you were leaving, that you had laundry to do or some shit.”

“I am, I am,” Nico throws his hands up in defense.

“I’ll walk you out, Nico. Leave the children to pout while doing their chores,” you jest, walking toward the kitchen’s exit.

“Thanks for dinner, Y/N. Ten times better than whatever I would’ve found in my fridge,” Nico says as you pass through the living room.

“Anytime, Cap,” you use his title, blaming Jack and Luke for the new habit. “After all, I owed you for rescuing me from sleeping in the hallway.”

This earns another one of those laughs you love to hear fall from his mouth, smiling to yourself as he follows you down the small hallway towards the front door.

“I feel like you definitely had to put in more effort on your end of that deal,” he steps through the door you’re holding open.

“I’ll just wait until you owe me a favor, then I’ll make sure to cash in some extravagant request,” you joke, leaning against the door as he stands in the hallway.

“I’ll be eagerly awaiting the day.”

Nico takes his apartment key from his pocket and unlocks his door, opening it and stepping inside, turning around to face you once again, his stance mirroring your own in his own doorway.

“So, I’ll see you at the game on Saturday, then?” He stalls a goodbye.

“Yep, I’ll be there. Still deciding which brother I’m going to piss off,” you reference the earlier argument over whose jersey you’ll wear.

“Oh, that reminds me-“ Nico says before propping his door open, leaving you alone in your doorway, confused as to where he could’ve gone.

After about a minute of you standing there, wondering if he was going to come back, he returns, holding a red jersey in his hand.

“Here, figured there’s no sense in you going out and buying one if you really wanted to mess with their heads.”

He hands you the jersey, stepping back into his doorway. You unfold the jersey and notice the big black C on the upper left corner of the jersey. It was a solid red jersey, the team’s symbol in the middle, two black stripes on the forearms of each sleeve, more black accents on the shoulders of the jersey. You look up at him, a little surprised.

“I- I can’t take one of your jerseys, Nico. What if I mess it up, or spill something on it? I’ll just wear one of the ones I have. This looks too nice to risk it,” you attempt to hand the jersey back across the hallway.

“No, I insist. I think it’ll be fun to mess around with them a little. Especially Jack, since he seemed so convinced you were going to wear his. They’ll never even see it coming,” Nico refuses.

You run the idea through your head for a second, thinking about how it would be a funny little dig at the boys. You also think about the implications of wearing a jersey that doesn’t belong to one of Hughes brothers. It’s harmless, though, right? Nico said it was just a fun way to get under their skin. ‘Don’t jump to conclusions, Y/N’ you think to yourself, trying to kick your habit of creative narratives in your head.

“Okay, but if I end up getting kicked out of my apartment I’m knocking on your door to sleep on your couch,” you finally agree.

“My door’s always open for you.”

You look back down to the jersey in your hands to hide the blush that appears on your face at his words. You know you’ve only known him for a short period of time, tonight being the first real chunk of time you’ve spent in his presence, but Nico is making it really hard for you to keep your feelings for him casual. You’ve always had a habit of getting a case of the heart eyes fast, but you’re trying to be normal, for once.

He’s likely just being his normal, personable self and you’re letting every smile and joke go to your head, placing more meaning on them than is warranted. There’s just something about him, though. He’s extremely attractive, for one. But it’s more than that. From all that you’ve learned about him through Jack and Luke, and the easy conversation that has flowed between the two of you from the moment you first spoke to him in the hallway, you can’t lie to yourself and say you’re not drawn to the Swiss captain.

Your mind circles back to the idea of wearing his jersey this weekend and what Jack and Luke will think. What if you seriously hurt their feelings? What if it affects how they play because they’re mad at you? What if they ignore you the whole game? You know the two brothers love you, but you also know how petty they can both be when mad.

“Stop overthinking it. I can see you getting lost up in that head of yours. It’s a harmless joke. They’re not going to freak out on the ice or anything. And if they do, I’m in more danger than you are,” Nico reassures you, pulling you from your thoughts.

“You better at least score a goal if I’m risking being homeless for you,” you tell him, looking back up at his face.

“How about I do you one better. If you promise to wear my jersey, I’ll score a hatty for your first ever New Jersey Devils hockey experience,” Nico offers, his eyes flashing with something you assume is delight at a challenge.

“Well then you better work on your slapshot tomorrow morning, Captain. I’ll be holding you to that Saturday night,” you take the bait, knowing how difficult a hat trick is to pull off.

“No need, I know I’ll have the right motivation night of to get it done,” he winks at you, causing your stomach to fill with butterflies. “And if I don’t, consider it your IOU for that extravagant request you might need one day,” He responds, crossing his arms and shrugging his shoulders, the nonchalance of his body language making you hope for his failure, just so you can think of some ridiculous task for him to perform.

“Thanks for the heads up, I’ll get right to brainstorming,” you respond, trying to prevent your thoughts from spiraling yet again.

Nico lets out a small laugh, standing up straight and placing his hand on the handle of his door. “Think hard. Let me know what you come up with. Have a good night, Bouy, see you Saturday.” He shuts the door before you can berate him for using the nickname you hate.

You walk back into your apartment, door shutting behind you, going straight to your room to hide the jersey before either of the boys see it. You think back on the entire interaction, a smile on your face at the possibility of being able to have Nico do anything you ask him. As you’re walking past the kitchen you hear Jack’s voice.

“Luke, am I stupid or did Y/N call me stupid earlier?” he recalls your earlier comment about him being ‘just a pretty face’.

“Think about how you worded the first part of your question and you’ll have your answer,” you hear Luke respond as you make it past the kitchen unnoticed, making you stifle a giggle so you won’t be discovered.

Oh how you loved being back with your boys.

[swiftholic-13]

The Season's Scandal

pairing → Eloise Bridgerton x Female Reader

summary → Eloise is trying to escape suitors at a ball and finds unexpected company in a like-minded girl who came to join the marriage mart this season

warnings → none

words → about 1.6k

masterpost chapter 2

When I entered the ball room my eyes landed on the gracious decorations distributed in the huge room. Many people were gathered around some tables with lemonades and small deserts. The first ball of the season surely had something to offer. This Lady Danbury really outdid herself. Some men and women gathered on the dancefloor were dancing to a fast tune. I removed my hand from my brothers arm and smoothed out my dress. “behave, the queen might attend, so I´ve heard”. I rolled my eyes at his comment. I might not be in awe with his plan for me this season, but I would never dare to put shame on him or my family in public. “Yes, I know why I am here” “good, then enjoy yourself sister, I shall see you later”. He bows his head slightly and takes one last look at me before then leaves towards a bunch of gentlemen gathered and sharing stories about their recent travels.

I took another look across the room searching for any lost souls I might join. Everyone here knows each other since years and possibly grew up in the ton. All these families come here every season, wishing for their kids to marry. My brother has informed me a bit about the most influential families and provided me with a list of possible husbands. Of course, I do not wish to marry but I had to come here this season with my brother to satisfy my mother, I truly hope if I stay unmarried till the end of the season they shall finally let me live my life as a spinster in peace.

My eyes landed on a beautiful girl in a light blue dress. Her chestnut hair was put together and draped over her shoulder. She was wearing a light blue gown with delicate sleeves drawing attention towards her long sparkling gloves. She was wearing as loose silver necklace with matching diamond earrings. She looked breathtaking. She was talking to a blonde-haired girl until she was asked to the dancefloor. After she left the chestnut-haired girl looked around and started scribbling something into her dance card. I knew she was going to make this season a lot more worthwhile. I started making my way over to her. She was very focused on filling all the spots on her dance card. I cleared my throat as I was standing right beside her. She looked up at me with the blank fear of being caught. “do you mind?” I asked holding my arm with my dance card on it out to her. She looked me up and down and a smile formed on her lips: “not at all”. She softly took my hand and started writing some names into my dance card. “I truly hope none of these gentlemen exist” “Don´t be concerned, I have been doing this for some time now” she said in a proud tone. I already loved her voice and the way it made me feel. She smelled of oranges and looked far more beautiful up closely. Her presence was calming and already let me forget about my true reason for being here. When she was done she let go of my gloved hand and I already missed her touch. “your first season here?” she asked with curiosity. “yes, my mother wants me to find a husband” “You´re already making a good first impression” she said and a smile escaped my lips. Her eyes were in beautiful blue color and did not fail to have a lasting impression on me. “It is rather refreshing having another woman around who is trying to escape suitors rather than charming them” she turned her gaze towards the dance floor. “I´m Eloise, Eloise Bridgerton” she turned her gaze back towards me and our eyes met immediately. “Y/N, Y/N Y/L/N” I said. She held her arm out for me to take “care for a turn? I might tell you some interesting facts about everyone here” “I do love some good gossip” I said smiling while taking her arm and letting her lead me across the room.

After a few hours of light conversation we were interrupted by a certain gentleman. “Eloise, Mama is searching everywhere for you” She let out a groan and rolled her eyes “Tell her I am busy with all of my suitors”. Her brother raised an eyebrow. She leaned closer to me “Excuse me for a moment”. I nodded understanding and offered a smile as she was leaving. “And you are?” he asked me. “Lady Y/N Y/L/N” “Ah the Dukes sister” I nodded. He turned around and as a debutante and her mother approached him he held his hand out for me “A dance Lady Y/N Y/L/N?” “Actually my dance card is-” Before you could finish your sentence he pulled you towards the dancefloor and placed his hand on your waist. “I apologize but I must escape their attention, also my name is Benedict” You chuckled as you went on with the dance. "nice to meet you" “You have already met the delightful company I call my sister” “Eloise seems to be the only likeminded spirit amongst the ton that I have met so far, she is indeed great company” “I see” He said as he noticed my gaze searching for her silhouette among the crowd. As soon as the dance ended I could not get off the dancefloor soon enough. I bowed my head “Thank you for the Dance Mr. Bridgerton” Behind me Eloise appeared and had an annoyed expression plastered over her face. “Has she not informed you that her dance card is full” She asked. I leaned closer to her “Your dear brother would not listen to me”. Eloise took my arm and pulled me along with her while giving Benedict an evil look. “Do not worry dearest I have no Intentions with your brother” I said nudging her slightly as we walked away. She released a breath she was holding and relaxed “Good, It would be a shame to lose you to him”.

The Evening ended sooner than expected and I said my goodbye to Eloise. She invited me for a visit at her house the next day. I was a bit nervous but my brother encouraged me, saying “It is a great opportunity to meet her brothers, I heard one of them is still unmarried”. At least that way I would get to spend some time with Eloise while satisfying my brother and giving him the wrong impression of my true intentions.

————————

The next morning my carriage arrived pretty soon at the residency of the Bridgerton family. A servant greeted me and showed me to the hall. I took a look around and took in the huge house. A servant motioned me to follow him and introduced me to the family. Eloise stormed towards me as soon as I was introduced. “Y/N! It is so good to see you!” She said and took my arm. I smiled at here as she led me inside the room and started introducing me to her siblings “So that is Francesca” She pointed at girl her age sitting at the pianoforte. She offered me a shy smile. “These are Benedict, which you know already and Colin” She said pointing at the sofa located at the other end of the room. She leaned closer to my ear she continued in a whisper “Do not ever ask him about his travels or he will never stop talking to you, it is pure torture”. I looked at her and chuckled. “And this is my little sister Hyacinth and my brother Gregory” She pointed at the kids standing close to us, seeming eager to talk. “Is she the Duke´s sister?” Hyacinth whispered to Gregory. “Yes Hyacinth, she is the Duke´s sister” Eloise clarified with an eye roll. “And we shall go” she said and pulled me out of the room “It was lovely to meet you all” I said while Eloise dragged me across the hall. “Eloise that was quite impolite” I said nudging her side. “They shall survive” She said and smiled at me. Her smile was beautiful and my eyes lingered probably a bit too long on her face. “A great weather for a promenade don´t you think?” she interrupted the silence. “I have not seen what the ton has to offer so far”.

In the Park Eloise told me everything about her siblings and why she was growing tired of living with all of them under one roof. “You need to come to Aubrey Hall with us it is gorgeous” “I can imagine” “I truly envy you” She said while looking down “Why is that?” “One brother, I cannot imagine how quite it must be” “Oh dearest Eloise, I can promise you it is everything but easy and quite” She locked eyes with me “Tell me about your brother” “Well since our papa died and he became Duke, he is insufferable. He used to grant me Freedom and protected me from our parents. He knows I do not desire to marry or to come with child like ever, but my mama has other plans. I am the sister of a Duke after all, I cannot die a spinster. She does not care about what I desire to do with my life” “I am sorry for that” she replied after a relatively long pause. She pulled me closer to her “I do not see the problem with dying a spinster, I find it rather appealing. Nothing is worse than being courted” “exactly” I laughed along with her. “I am glad I met you Eloise, you make my time here worthwhile” “I feel the same way” she looked at me with a smile on her face and I got lost in her beautiful mesmerizing blue eyes.

As you can probably guess this is not the end. I am planning on making this a longer story so many more parts to come. Also English is not my first language and I am sorry for any mistakes. Anyways, let me know what you think so far

[bosbas]

Chapter 1: if a man talks shit then I owe him nothing

series masterlist previous part || next part

pairing: colin bridgerton x enemy-ish!fem!reader WC: 4.2k words

Warnings: period-typical gender roles, some strong language, a small part of the dialogue is in French (with translations provided), period-typical views on women, alluding to sex, mentions of alcohol

Summary: It took precisely two days in England for you to utterly despise Colin Bridgerton. It took him approximately twelve hours after that to hate you right back. But he doesn't care that you're the only person in the ton who doesn't like him. You're set to marry someone else anyway, right?

A/N: French is not my first language so IM SORRY if the dialogue is a bit weird. I speak some French and obvi double checked to make sure it made sense but please lmk if i made a mistake 

April 14, 1816 – Dearest Gentle Readers,

A new season is upon us, and so my work begins anew. Firstly, we can reacquaint ourselves with the familiar faces we expect to see this season. It has been two years since Viscount Anthony Bridgerton married, and dowager Viscountess Bridgerton is surely itching to secure a match for more of her children. Miss Eloise Bridgerton, now in her second year of being out, remains unmarried. And, of course, one cannot help but wonder whether the charming Mr. Colin Bridgerton will return from his travels in time for the season. Though Benedict Bridgerton has been absent from the public eye as of late, he could also be considered an eligible bachelor. Shall we see any of them marry this season? This author remains skeptical, though, with the Bridgertons, one must always expect the unexpected.

There are, however, plenty of new faces. Chief among them are the two youngest Montclair siblings. The Montclairs resided in London for the debut of Lady Charlotte Montclair, now the Duchess of Somerset, before vanishing from England’s social scene. Until now, of course. Though Lord Louis Montclair is only two and twenty and may still be considered green for the marriage mart, all eyes will surely be on Lady Y/N Montclair as she steps into the spotlight and searches for an impressively titled gentleman. Though the Montclairs have graced the streets of Calcutta, Rome, Geneva, and Madrid, among other illustrious locales, one can only hope that the grandeur of London lives up to their expectations.

You let out a resigned sigh of frustration, scolding yourself for your tardiness as you hurried down the stairs. It was half an hour past when you were supposed to be in the breakfast room, and your mother was bound to be at least a little displeased with you. It was the first time your entire family was in the same place since your older brother Jacques got married in September. Despite being a big family, six siblings in total, four of whom were married, it was unusual that you had gone so long without seeing them all in one place.

Moving from country to country every few years for much of your upbringing had made your siblings a very tight-knit bunch. So, as you neared the breakfast room, which was full of laughter and lively conversation, you couldn't shake the twinge of guilt for your late arrival.

But you couldn’t help it! Not this time, at least. It had been your first night in London since your sister Charlotte’s season eight years ago, and you had stayed up until the early hours of the morning stargazing in your garden. There was a secluded patch of grass between the summer pavilion and the tulips, a secret spot hidden from prying eyes, where you could spend hours looking at the sky in peaceful solitude. Last time you were in London, you had snuck out of your bedroom every night to stare at the stars, and you had been pleased to find that the spot remained undiscovered.

You had always been comforted by the fact that the cosmos would remain the same even if your home did not. The night sky had become somewhat of a companion during your childhood years, and you were interested to see what part of it you were privy to in London at this time of year. Perhaps a scolding and a lecture from your mother were not such a high price to pay for the opportunity to reacquaint yourself with the stars, you reasoned.

You slithered into the breakfast room quietly, hoping to draw as little attention to yourself as possible, but you had no such luck. Your brother closest to you in age, Louis, was sitting nearest to the door and noticed your late entrance immediately.

Taking advantage of every opportunity to make your life just a little harder, he goaded, “T'es très en retard, demoiselle. Ce n'est pas convenable pour une fille en quête d'un mari!” (You’re very late, young lady. This is not suitable for a girl looking for a husband!)

Under any other circumstances, you might have laughed at his impression of your mother, but you were quite sleep-deprived and in no mood to have your brother lecture you. You sighed in frustration, hissing, “Louis, ferme ta gue-” (Louis, shut you mou-)

“English, please!” interrupted your father, not even looking up from his newspaper as he sat at the head of the table.

You were relieved he hadn’t commented on your colorful language, but his curt reprimand reminded you that it was in poor taste to speak a language not everyone could understand. Growing up, your family had primarily spoken French, but with none of your siblings having married a francophone, you were now only allowed to speak in French when everyone present could speak it, too. It was a rule enforced particularly during big family gatherings such as this one. Despite your fluency in five languages, your parents insisted on English, the only common language among all twelve family members.

“Sorry,” you muttered, not quite sure that your father had even heard. You slid into your seat between Louis and your brother Jacques’ wife, Chiara. Still annoyed with Louis, you turned to the newest addition to the Montclair family and smiled at her warmly.

“Ciao, Y/N,” she greeted, smiling back and kissing you on the cheek.

“Ciao, Chiara, è bello rivederti,” you responded (Hi Chiara, it’s nice to see you again). You were tempted to keep speaking to her in Italian–you liked the practice, after all–but feared another scolding from your father. So, you settled for, “I trust your trip back home was good?”

“Oh, it was lovely. Florence always is at this time of year. You should come back to visit sometime! Beatrice misses you terribly,” she exclaimed.

Beatrice was Chiara’s younger sister, whom you had become dear friends with while living in Tuscany. You had remained in Tuscany for nearly four years, longer than you usually stayed in one place, and though you were itching to leave and see more of the world by the end of your time in Florence, you were thankful you had met Beatrice. Both of you were delighted when you realized your brother was marrying her sister, ensuring you would remain close even when you moved away.

You sighed. “I miss her, too. We correspond quite regularly, but it’s simply not the same. I assume it will be worse now that I am in England and even farther from her,” you lamented.

After Jacques and Chiara’s wedding, your parents, Louis, and you returned home to Amboise for a few months. Beatrice had visited for the holidays along with Chiara and Jacques, but you knew she was unlikely to come to England when she was busy with her season back home.

Chiara smiled sympathetically. “Well, Jacques and I are only staying for a few weeks before returning to Tuscany. If you get bored here in London, you are always welcome to visit,” she comforted.

It was a lovely thought, but you doubted your parents would allow you to leave England until you were married. Your parents’ marriage had most certainly not been a love match, and though they did grow to love each other eventually, they didn’t particularly care whether you loved the man you married. To them, marriage was an economic endeavor rather than a romantic one. You had never minded much, having accepted your fate early in life as you watched your siblings marry strategically.

Nevertheless, you had grown rather nervous about your season after watching the outcome of Charlotte’s. In your parents’ eyes, her season was a complete success as she married a Duke a few short months after her debut. But you knew better. Not all of your siblings had enjoyed moving around so much, but you, Louis, and Charlotte were the most enthusiastic. Having married the Duke of Somerset, Charlotte had become Duchess, and her duties tied her to England. After such an international childhood, you knew Charlotte was dreadfully bored of staying in England year after year.

You knew there were much worse marriages to be in, but you still wanted to avoid being permanently tied to England, of all places. You were only twenty years old, after all, and you still had so much of the world to see.

---

“By the way,” Violet said, strategically avoiding the topic until she was about to leave the sitting room. “Both of you are attending the Danbury ball tomorrow night.”

The expected chorus of complaints filled her ears, and she shook her head in amusement at her children’s petulance. One would think she was trying to force them to walk halfway across the world!

Violet sighed and said firmly, “I understand that neither of you is particularly enthusiastic, but we are not so rude as to miss the first ball of the season. And at Lady Danbury’s home, at that! Surely the retribution you would receive from her is enough to make you want to go.”

“Well, Colin’s coming home from Greece tomorrow and I hardly think he’ll be in attendance, so I don’t see why we should be,” argued Eloise, earning an enthusiastic nod from Benedict.

“You make the mistake of thinking that I have not already informed Colin he will be in attendance. None of you have the option to stay home, I’m afraid.”

And with that, she left her grumbling children behind in favor of a quiet turn around the garden.

---

Colin arrived at Number 5 Bruton Street feeling rather unkempt. His journey from Greece had been particularly tumultuous, and he was ready to change clothes and sleep for the next seventeen hours.

“Colin! I’m so glad you’re home,” exclaimed Violet upon seeing him. For all her nagging, he was quite fond of his mother and found that he had missed her while he had been away. Seeing tears forming in her eyes, Colin wrapped Violet up in a tight hug, hoping to avoid feeling worse about being away for so long.

“He’s home!” shouted Gregory, running up to greet him. The rest of his siblings followed suit, and Colin basked in the excitement of his homecoming.

To the rest of the ton, Colin was the most well-liked Bridgerton due to his easygoing nature and cheerful demeanor, and because he was rather good-looking as well, he hoped. However, it was nice to know that his family still cared for him despite his prolonged absences.

“The Danbury ball is in a few hours, so make sure to be ready on time,” his mother reminded him once she had gathered herself.

He groaned, having forgotten he had promised his mother he would attend. He sighed as he prepared for an evening of excruciating conversation as he politely listened to ambitious mamas name every single positive attribute their daughters possessed in the hopes of impressing him. It wasn’t that he didn’t like them, but rather that he remained uninterested in marriage, finding his travels a much more exciting prospect. But he had a reputation to maintain, so he would be as courteous as ever to everyone he met and perhaps even dance with a few of them.

A few hours later, the Bridgertons were, quite impatiently, one could say, waiting for Benedict to finish getting ready so they could leave for the Danbury Ball.

“Excited for your third season?” Colin directed his question at Eloise. He knew the answer, of course, but he was growing bored of waiting for Benedict and thought that this would be the perfect distraction.

“Shut up.”

“Maybe you’ll find someone you absolutely adore, El. Don’t close yourself off to the possibilities,” preached Colin, annoying Eloise further.

“What about you, Colin? Five and twenty and still unmarried, that’s a bit ghastly don’t you think?” she shot back.

Of course, it wasn't unheard of to be unmarried at his age, but Colin panicked regardless, knowing his mother would surely love to join the conversation now that his marriage prospects were a talking point. But Benedict saved him by walking down the stairs at that moment.

“Finally! Now can we go, please?” exclaimed Eloise.

“I’m surprised, Eloise. I thought you didn’t want to go to this ball,” teased Benedict, but she only grumbled in return as they headed toward their carriage.

The carriage rides were usually the worst part of going to a ball. Violet Bridgerton, efficient as ever, would inform each of her children of the possible prospects that would be in attendance that night, impossibly elongating the journey and making the Bridgertons less and less pleased about being forced to go. They weren't always forced, of course, but the carriage rides certainly made it seem that way.

“The Montclairs will be in London for the season, I heard. Lady Y/N Montclair will be making her debut, which will surely interest you two,” said Violet, nodding at the men in the carriage. “And for you, Eloise, her older brother Lord Louis Montclair is perhaps too young to get married, but it wouldn’t hurt to speak with him and practice your French.”

Violet droned on for the rest of the ride, and the Bridgerton siblings could barely get out of the carriage fast enough when it arrived at Danbury House. Little did they know that they had played right into Violet’s plan. She wanted to enjoy the evening and visit with her friends, and hopefully, her overly long analysis of the key figures at today’s ball would keep her children away from her enough for her to do so.

Inside the ballroom, you were speaking with a perfectly nice but quite boring gentleman. You couldn’t quite remember his name, having talked to at least a dozen men practically identical to him already. You barely registered his request for a dance, and you only realized you had accepted when you found yourself in the middle of the dance floor. Luckily, the dance went by fairly quickly and you were able to sprinkle in interested hums and “oh really?” at the appropriate times. All in all, it was not a terrible experience, if only you could remember his name.

He returned you to your mother and bowed in parting, kissing your hand and promising to call on you the next day.

“Who was that?” you muttered once he had left.

“Y/N,” she scolded, but could barely contain her laughter. “I can’t believe you danced with a man you don’t even know the name of!”

You shrugged, not particularly interested in learning who he was anymore.

“Is there anyone else you want me to meet?” you asked her, hoping she would say no and you would be free to find Louis and talk to someone familiar at last.

But your mother was distracted from answering as she saw two tall men crossing the ballroom. She squeezed your arm and nodded in their direction, careful to be discreet.

“Those are the Bridgertons. Their oldest brother, the Viscount, is already married, but it is of no consequence. Perhaps the second and third sons might not be fit to be your husband, but you should still introduce yourself and make a good impression should you encounter them.”

You nodded, disinterested. You were too busy looking around the room, realizing that there was still a myriad of gentlemen left to speak with. It seemed that there were too many eligible bachelors if that was even possible. You had thought there would be five men that your mother would have approved of, at most, and you could make your pick between them. But it seemed London was a particularly popular place for titled gentlemen to search for a wife, and you were growing uneasy.

Trying not to think about the long evening ahead of you, you tuned back into what your mother was saying. “Oh! I don’t quite know where Colin Bridgerton has gone off to now, but Benedict is over by the lemonade if you can see him. I believe that is his sister, Eloise. They all look identical, don’t they? The same brown h-”

“Pardon me,” you interrupted as panic rose in your chest. You were in desperate need of a respite, and could hardly handle another minute listening to her speak about more men she needed you to meet. “I think I see an old friend of mine, and I must say hello,” you lied.

Your mother raised her eyebrows in surprise, shocked that you remembered people from eight years ago, but let you go regardless. Impatiently, you waited until someone else engaged her in conversation and quietly slipped out into the hallway. Stepping out of a ball on your own like this was forbidden, and your father would surely have your head if he found out you had risked being found unchaperoned and away from the ball, but you needed to get away for just a moment to gather yourself.

Lady Danbury’s home was quite beautiful, you found, and you were enjoying looking at the art on her walls as you roamed the halls. You were careful not to stray too far, not knowing your way around and recognizing that you only had a short time before someone was bound to notice your absence.

Suddenly, your senses heightened as you heard two men’s voices far closer than you would have liked. Panicking, you jumped around a corner and prayed that no one would find you, absolutely not ready to be forced to marry a man only one ball into your debut. You willed your heart to stop beating so loudly lest you get caught and tried to discern what the men were saying, unable to quell your curiosity despite the precarious position you found yourself in.

“And, if she's the right sort of woman, you won’t even have to do anything, she'll just get on top and do all the work. Though I suppose it all depends on her dowry. The larger the dowry the more I’m willing to overlook,” slurred one of them. “And you, Colin? Do any ladies catch your eye? I’m sure you could get away with anything with any of these girls, though I suggest picking one that’s got good hips.”

Your jaw dropped in disbelief at the same time as you heard 'Colin' say, “Why don’t we continue this conversation outside, Nigel?”

Their footsteps echoed down the hall and you risked a glance at them, still horrified but wanting to know who they were anyway. You were unsurprised to find Nigel walking toward the garden, having met Mr. Nigel Berbrooke earlier in the evening and finding him quite unpleasant. However, you were shocked to find who you assumed to be Colin Bridgerton walking quite close to Mr. Berbrooke. Hadn’t your mother said the Bridgertons were people of good standing? Surely someone would have noticed that the third son was a complete ass. But perhaps he was the odd one out, and the rest of his family was lovely. Or perhaps Englishmen were simply unpleasant as a whole. Whatever the reason for his horrible comments, you decided you despised Colin Bridgerton and dreaded the day you would have to speak with him.

“Quel salaud,” you muttered angrily under your breath after you heard Mr. Bridgerton close the door to the outdoor patio (What a bastard). Pacing up and down the hallway, you were too enraged by what you heard to return to the ballroom.

The quality of men in England seemed to be quite lacking, and suddenly you wished you could follow in your sister Isabelle’s footsteps and go to Spain to find a titled gentleman there. Isabelle had seemed quite excited about all her suitors before eventually settling on Carlos, who practically worshipped the ground she walked on. Unfortunately, it seemed that you were not destined for such a husband, you thought glumly.

But you supposed you didn't really have a choice. You let out a weary sigh and leaned heavily against the wall, shaking your head as you accepted the reality of your situation. With an angry humph and one last look to make sure no one was around, you quietly slipped back into the ballroom and searched for your mother, who would surely be looking for you now. As you expected, she spotted you almost instantly, and she immediately drew you into conversation with a gentleman you believed to be an Earl.

---

Colin stood outside the door to the ballroom, flexing his fingers to make sure there was still feeling there. Confirming the health of his right hand, he gently opened the ballroom door with his left and stepped inside, looking around for Benedict. Spotting him a few feet away, Colin quickly made his way over hoping to avoid any particularly insistent mamas at this precise moment.

“You look quite relaxed,” commented Benedict, earning a glare from Colin.

“Berbrooke,” Colin explained flatly. “How that man manages to get so drunk so quickly I will never know.”

But suddenly his attention was drawn elsewhere. Time seemed to slow down as a stunning lady he had never seen before crossed the ballroom. He was paralyzed, stuck to his spot on the ground as he stared after you. The only thing he could hear was his heart beating loudly in his ears, and though Colin wasn’t one to believe in love at first sight, he imagined it might have felt something like this if he did. Without a second thought, he knew he had to know you. It was almost instinctual.

Colin tugged on Benedict’s sleeve, his eyes still glued to your form as you laughed politely at whoever you were speaking with. “Who is that over there? Have you spoken with her?”

“I’m sure I have no idea,” responded Benedict. “You could always ask Mother.”

“I might do just that, actually,” hummed Colin, deep in thought.

Benedict choked back a laugh, looking over at his younger brother. “Are you being serious?”

Tearing his eyes away from you for a moment, Colin turned to his brother, confused. “Well, yes. If anyone knows who she is, it’ll be her, no?”

Realizing that Colin was, in fact, quite serious, Benedict’s expression sobered. “You are aware if you even hint at the fact that you might be interested in her, Mother will surely come up with at least a dozen plans to marry you off?”

“I don’t think that would be the worst thing in the world,” Colin reasoned, eyes searching for you in the crowd again. Five minutes ago, he would’ve thought it silly, how captivated he was by you. But five minutes ago, he had not yet seen you.

Just as he was about to seek out his mother to ask about you, Lady Danbury walked up to the pair of Bridgertons and poked Colin's foot with her cane. Usually, her presence would have instilled a healthy dose of fear in him, but tonight all he really wanted was to know you, and he supposed Lady Danbury was just as knowledgeable as Violet Bridgerton about the goings on of the ton.

“What are you doing staring at Lady Montclair?” she demanded.

“Lady Montclair? Is that her name?” Then, vaguely remembering what his mother had said on the carriage ride to the ball, he added, “The one from France?”

Lady Danbury hummed, suspicious of Colin’s enthusiasm. “Yes. Lady Y/N Montclair. Speaking with her brother Lord Louis Montclair. Are you interested?”

“I think I am, yes,” he sighed.

“I do believe she has space left on her dance card,” prompted Lady Danbury, doing very little to hide the fact that she was nudging Colin in your direction.

Once Colin had taken off, Benedict turned to her, not distracted enough to forget decorum as his brother had. “This is a wonderful ball, Lady Danbury. My deepest gratitude to you for inviting us, as always.”

But she only waved his thanks away. “Shush, boy. I’m trying to pay attention to Colin willingly asking a lady to dance for the first time.”

Soft music floated through the ballroom as you laughed quietly with Louis, who seemed to be having a wonderful time terrorizing your mother and refusing to dance with any ladies she introduced to him. The gentle hum of the room was interrupted by the sound of footsteps beside you, and with a polite smile on your face, you turned to greet whoever had approached. Realizing you were face to face with Mr. Colin Bridgerton, your expression immediately turned stony.

Bowing with just the right degree of formality, Colin introduced himself, his charm seemingly effortless. He certainly played the part of a perfect gentleman; you could give him that. But you couldn’t forget his conversation with Mr. Berbrooke, the distasteful words replaying in your mind over and over.

Then, extending his hand to you and tilting his head slightly toward the dance floor, a soft smile on his lips, he asked, “Would you care to dance with me this evening, Lady Montclair?”

Looking at him squarely, you responded, your voice sickly sweet, “Why no, Mr. Bridgerton. I don’t believe I would.”

—

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[ruporas]

lonely

[ID: A limited palette of green and pink, Vashwood comic. The first page serves as a prologue. The first panel shows Vash speaking to someone off screen while Wolfwood is lingering behind him. A black arrow is drawn pointing at him. In the second panel, Vash is buying donuts in the distance while Wolfwood is once again in view, lingering. and the black arrow is drawn pointing at him. In the third panel, Vash is leaving a cubicle and turning towards his right with a slightly peeved expression. He sees Wolfwood, leaning against the cubicle, waiting for him, and with the black arrow drawn, pointing at him, implicating the consistent hovering of Wolfwood’s presence during Vash’s everyday. At the bottom of the page, they’re drawn out of panel with Vash turning to Wolfwood and saying with an irritated expression, “You’re really following me everywhere, huh?” Wolfwood responds, “What, you got a problem?” Vash responds without hesitation, “Yeah, kinda...”

The second page starts with a new day. In the first panel, Vash is seen alone, weighing apples in his hands at a mart, with crowds passing behind him. In the second panel, he turns to his right and starts to say, “Hey, Wolfwood...” In the third panel, he’s startled from seeing a stranger, whom he’d accidentally called out to when he was expecting to see Wolfwood. He says, “Oh, you’re not him. Sorry!” In the fourth panel, the stranger walks off and Vash muses, “Right, he said he had something to do today...”

The third page begins with a close up of Vash's miffed expression, the continuation of Vash's thoughts, "Now that he's not here, this is just like how I used to be, but... It feels lonely somehow. Oh well, I'll see him again tonight, like always." In the second panel, it shows Vash walking through the marketplace crowd, alone. In the third panel, the door panel is a close up of the door opening with a peek of Vash's head. He says, "Wolfwood!" In the fourth panel, Vash is holding a bag of food with a bright smile and says, "Are you hungry? I got you something to eat today!"

The fourth page begins with a shot of the room, two beds being highlighted, one of them being made properly with the blanket draped over the bed and the other with the blanket folded and pillow sitting on top of it. There's no sign of Wolfwood. The second panel shows Vash with a disappointed look as he thinks, "He's still not here?" The third panel shows Vash putting the bag of food on the table. Stapled to the paper bag is the receipt with a written note "For Wolfwood." Vash's thoughts continue "He does like to stay out so, I guess there's no reason to worry..." The fourth panel shows Vash sitting his bed somberly with his thoughts continued, "It's not any of my business anyway..."

The fifth page starts with a close up his blank expression as he looks downwards, thinking, "Even if he left completely... That'd be understandable and better for him. I'll just travel alone again... like before... Huh?" The next panel shows Vash's composure break, tears welling up in his eyes suddenly, as he didn't expect to cry. He starts to sob, putting his hands to his face to quiet himself and wipe at his tears, as he says, "Ugh... Dammit... I miss h..." The last panel shows Vash leaning over into his hands, still crying, and in the back, the door swings wide open with a bam as Wolfwood walks through with the punisher swung behind him. He shouts, "SPIKEY! You in here?!"

The sixth page starts with Wolfwood confused, looking at Vash and Vash looks back, just as confused, with tears in his eyes and snot out of his nose. Wolfwood starts saying, "Ah? You..." No longer in panels, at the bottom of the page, Wolfwood takes the Punisher off of himself and starts to walk towards Vash, continuing with slight concern, "What's wrong with you? Did something happen?" Vash, hurriedly begins to wipe at his tears, denying immediately, "No! No, I'm fine! Nothing happened!"

The seventh page, Vash points towards the table, with a hand still wiping at his tears and he smiles as he says, "I uh got you food. On the table." Wolfwood looks towards to the table and responds, "Oh. I was getting hungry, thanks." He turns his head back to Vash immediately after with an uncertain expression, knowing the other wasn't responding to his concern, and says, "But, I know you're an idiot with this stuff, so I'm reminding you again. Don't brush it off if it's an issue, alright?"

The eight page, Vash's tears have dried and he looks to Wolfwood with a soft smile and responds, "Yeah. It's okay though..." A panel at the center shows a side view of Vash approaching Wolfwood. At the bottom of the page, with no panel, is a close up shot of Vash's hand, holding onto the edge of Wolfwood's jacket sleeve, as he says, "Because you're here now. Wolfwood."

The final page is a back shot of both of them standing next to each other, Wolfwood's head tilted slightly to the left, not fully believing Vash as he says, "That doesn't answer anything, Spikey." Vash responds, "There's no need to talk about it! You should enjoy your food. Let's have a drink too?" Wolfwood responds, "Tsk, tsk. Fine, yeah. I could use one." END ID]

[goldenrulemotherfucker]

Real talk, I came to the Fallout series a total newb, knowing nothing about the lore/games and came away with a new favorite show, easily in my top five. In particular, something it does exceptionally well is narrative payoff. Nothing in this show happens just to happen; every choice the characters make shapes their future arcs. As a SFF writer myself, I'm not only impressed--I'm inspired.

I feel this way about the entire story, but in terms of Lucy and Cooper specifically, we get so many great payoffs from their interactions. When he doesn't share his water, it seems like he's just being a dick until we learn that his canteen is full of dirty water. (Yes, he was still being a dick, but he knew she naively thought he was drinking clean water.) When he forces her to use the knife in the "ass jerky" scene, he's absolutely being cruel, but he's also extremely fatigued to the point of near collapse, which only becomes clear only after she's out of sight at the Super Duper Mart. When he cuts off her finger, it seems like nothing more than him "getting even," when he actually took a much-needed replacement part for his hand (from someone he assumed wouldn't be alive much longer).

These interactions are all brutal, give us new insights into both characters, and also set up a massive payoff in Lucy's "golden rule, motherfucker" moment. Even after everything he put her through and how he treated her as disposable, she does the opposite and shows him empathy and kindness. To put it plainly: Her choice in this scene wouldn't carry half as much weight if he hadn't repeatedly treated her like shit. Coupled with her ability to self-rescue, the scene cements who Lucy is as a person--both for the viewer and for Cooper. (And what happens next? He watches a film clip where his old self looks right at him and delivers the line about a villain being ugly and strong but having no dignity.)

The moment when Lucy gives him the vials could have been enough of a payoff for their arc by itself. But it sets up an even better one: The next time they cross paths, he treats her differently. Having already seen himself in her, and knowing that they both want answers to the same (or very similar) questions, he invites her to accompany him on his journey this time--no longer as a pawn, but as someone he trusts and respects at least a little. As a direct payoff for her memorable act of kindness toward him, this fucking rules. It's surprising while also feeling completely earned. "Golden rule, motherfucker," isn't just a satisfying moment (or my favorite line), it shapes the characters' future.

On Lucy's side, when she decides to follow him, she has no reasons to trust or respect him (yet); she likely just recognizes that he's currently the only person who will lead her to the truth. But she's only met the Ghoul so far, not Cooper Howard. She doesn't know that his primary motivation has been searching for his family this whole time. She doesn't know that she's seen him before, in those old movies she watched at home. She doesn't know why he shot the billboard.

Now, I'm not making predictions about how their future arc will play out (nor am I asking for them), I'm just along for the ride. But I feel confident that there will be many more great payoffs to come now that they've gone from "hostile forced proximity" to "traveling together by choice." I've rarely been so pumped for a second season. <3

[hannyoontify]

seventeen on a road trip

warnings | mentions of food, roadkill?

notes | i've been doing long distance traveling and camping w my family and acquaintances for almost 12 years now so these are js some characters i've seen LMAO

scoups

designated driver

will definitely go 20 over the speed limit almost constantly

but he’s gotten pulled over only once (he’s lucky)

plays katy perry and pitbull to stay awake when he’s driving at night

screams when he sees roadkill

ALSO he insists on finding firewood on his own instead of buying them at the local mart like a normal person

tends the fire like it’s his baby (he may or may not tear up when it’s put out at the end of the night)

he brings an axe. for the firewood.

oh it’s serious

constantly doing head counts when they’re out to make sure no one got snatched up by a tree or eagle or something

hates truck drivers with a burning passion of a thousand suns

definitely farts in the car and pretends it isn’t him

jeonghan

passenger princess™️ 

but he’ll be the drivers right hand man

constantly serving water and snacks and making sure they’re staying awake

doesn’t lift a single finger when you get to your campsite BUT THATS HOW ITS SUPPOSED TO BE

he’ll be shivering in the passenger seat and watching youtube while mingyu hauls the 15 person sized tent out of the trunk

but he’s also keeping an eye on everyone to make sure they’re doing okay

saved dino from a bees nest one too many times

definitely gets his hands on the aux

SNACK FAIRY

he loves packing snacks and passing them out throughout the trip

needs to cuddle someone in the tent

vehemently opposes hiking and prefers to sit in a field and wait for everyone else to come back

joshua

don’t even play with me rn he’s bringing an acoustic guitar

does sing-a-longs in the car and at the fire pit

and he’s good too it’s not cheesy and everyone loves it when he brings out the guitar

one time cheol was desperate to keep the fire going so he almost used shua’s guitar and that was the story of how cheol almost lost his life that day

SMORE MAN. don’t tell me this man doesn’t love smores

he n vernon would def teach everyone how to make smores

sits in the left window seat, second row. end of discussion. that spot is reserved for thought daughters and thought daughters only. FIGHT ME

he’s actually rlly good at pitching the tent

secretly enjoys hiking but he doesn’t want seungkwan to know that

jun

HE BRINGS BOARD GAMES AND CARD GAMES

always has a deck of cards on him at all times

he would def 100% bring cards against humanity and uno (this almost caused them to go home early)

makes friends with the wildlife

like one time everyone else is busy making camp but jun went missing and came back 15 minutes later with an elk at his side

“he said he’s hungry”

“junhui we can’t give ramen to an elk”

SLEEPS WITH HIS EYES OPEN IN THE CAR AND EVERYONE TAKES PICTURES

it keeps everyone entertained and he loves seeing the photos everyone took when he wakes up

waves at strangers they drive by on the road

last time he tried to help pitch the tent, he got lost in the fabric

hoshi

disney princess.

it’s like the moment he sets foot on the camping grounds, all the nearby birds and critters are drawn towards him

they loveee hoshi for some reason

plays ‘i spy’ in the car

“i spy…. something gray!”

“… my socks?”

also plays shinee music on blast and has his own mini concert in the car

there’s a group-wide agreement to never give hoshi more than 3 smores/marshmallows

bc that.. ends in disaster.

he almost started a forest fire the last time he had 5 marshmallows in the middle of the night

likes to play with the fire (we call it 불멍 in korean where you space out while watching the fire)

definitely farts in his sleep in the car

insists on bringing at least two tiger plushies to every road trip

likes to cuddle with someone in the tent

he also likes to play punch buggy (don’t sit next to him)

wonwoo

def 100000% brings a nintendo switch or something for the long car ride

one of the more quiet people on car rides but he always points out something he notices out the window

“hey look that horse is giving birth” “WWWWWWWHERE” (that was hoshi if you couldn’t tell)

plays along with hoshi’s ‘i spy’ games

one time he almost lost his glasses in a river so now he refuses to step foot near any bodies of water 

likes to stick by jeonghan and observe with him

i feel like he’d be good at directions and occasionally drives when seungcheol’s too tired

always has his headphones hanging around his neck

enforces a strict ‘lights out’ rule and tries to get people off their phones when they’re sight seeing

CAMERA MAN #1

he loves taking pics and brings his camera everywhere they go

he dgaf if his phone is dead but if his camera runs out of battery, this man is devastated

woozi

i actually struggled a lot with woozi’s 

cuz i’ve been camping with a lot of diff people but i’ve never been with someone like woozi

but

i think

he’s the quietest one of them all

tbh idt woozi would be the biggest fan of camping

esp where you’re roughing it out in the middle of the woods since he’s a homebody

but i think he would like it in terms of taking a break from the bustling city and enjoying nature

he would sit outside in the early morning and watch the sun rise alone

would deffo get inspo for songs

you can sometimes hear him humming little melodies to himself when they’re hiking

laughs the hardest at dino’s freestyle raps at night tho

sometimes borrows shua’s guitar to play something

i think he would like doing rec activities too tho

like rafting or biking

OR FISHING OOOOOOOOOO

he’s js happy to be there i think

the8

also one of the more quiet members

but he actually likes road trips because he likes to be in nature

he’ll be one of the first people up every morning

you’ll find him meditating, basking in the early morning rays in front of the smoking fire pit from last night

really really likes sight seeing nature

also if he could, he would def bring a travel tea set and make tea for those who want it in the morning

tries to make friends with a feral squirrel but failed tho

he took that personally too

sensitive sleeper so he tends to stay up late at night on car rides to talk w cheol to keep him awake and sometimes drives 

mingyu

all hail kim mingyu because he’s everyone’s life saver

he’s in charge of almost all of their cooked meals

and he makes some damned good camping food

kbbq is a must at camping sites AND HE’S SO GOOD. SOSOSOSO GOOD

but he’s the biggest mfing scaredy cat

clings to jeonghan in his sleep and flinches every time he hears something in the woods

“mingyu go to sleep”

“but what if thats a bear?”

buys bear spray and read up on how to scare bears away

also has to close his eyes when they’re driving on mountain roads bc the cliffs and ravines make him queasy and his knees feel like jelly

cuddles hoshi in his sleep in the car

loves taking pictures of nature and the members

would def go dirt biking or something like that

likes to engage in park rangers’ q&a’s and info sessions

dokyeom

sings almost everywhere

in the car? he’s singing? they’re setting up camp? he’s singing. around the fire pit? he’s singing along with shua’s strumming.

like mingyu, he has to close his eyes when they’re driving on mountain roads bc he gets scared

waves to random babies he sees at popular attractions

he fed an eagle once. he talks about it every other month

CAMERA MAN #2

loves taking pics of nature

esp the sky

sometimes he sticks his head out the window (to the point where it’s illegal) to get a good pic of the sunset

loves loves lovesss stargazing

he can stare at the dark sky for hours, looking and counting each and individual star

seungkwan

designated tour guide™️

makes sure everyone’s sticking together

and kinda forces everyone to go hiking with him

side note: i love seungkwan’s hiking posts

anyway

sings almost everywhere pt. 2

their collective spokesperson 

he’s the one talking to park rangers and campsite managers

likes to engage in deeper conversation with other members once it’s more dark and quiet and a few members already turned in for the night

pls don’t put him on the wheel he’s going to freak out

likes to sit next to vernon and talk to him on longer nature car rides

seungkwan on aux can never go wrong

vernon

has headphones on almost 24/7

even when he doesn’t, he has imaginary ones on

he has like 4 different headphones/earphones as back up in case one dies

the amount of songs he’s downloaded on spotify practically takes up half his phone storage

will randomly start naming all the diff plants’ scientific names

likes to look at mushrooms and plants in his spare time

brings like 3 different, separate snapbacks

vernon would most definitely make a killer smore

like he’s so good at roasting marsmallows

it’s the american in him ig

likes to poke at the fire with a blank expression

if you look at their group photos, he’s always in the same pose and facial expression

freaks out when he sees a bug tho and will aggressively do the harlem shake until it’s gone

dino

in love with everything

he’ll point out something new he sees every 3 seconds

thinks everything is so so cool

i love dino

anyway

would sing in the car deffo 10000%

yk like his drunk freestyle rapping he did in the beginning of nana tour? yea he does that at night in front of the fire pit

if mingyu whips out some kind of camping tool he’d be all “ohhhhhh!!!”

takes so many naps in the car and in the tent

always munching on something

likes to read up on pamphlets and info boards about history or science behind a certain rock formation or historical site

and tell the others what he learned, esp when they ask questions

likes to bring binoculars (idk js a thought)

one time he saw a squirrel sneak into a gift shop and steal a candy bar

but when he tried to tell everyone else

no one believed him

it’s okay i believe you dino

reblogs and feedback is always appreciated ^-^

[604to647]

Barón Tovar Takes a Wife

First Movement (Adagio sostenuto)

5.5K / Bridgerton AU Regency!Pero Tovar x fem!reader, a childhood best friends to lovers story

Summary: About to make your society debut and enter London's marriage mart, you don't expect an old friend whom you haven't seen in over 10 years to make a surprise appearance at the first ball of the season.

Warnings: None! Fluff! B, C, D, E, F Bridgerton make appearances. It's me so there's a cute nickname (won't spoil). The masterlist includes a few words about how this reader insert is written - essentially, no reader description other than having hair and wearing dresses in the style of this era, reader has a backstory; much of this part is exposition (so maybe a little slow but we'll get there!😊)

A/N: My plan is to post the entire series before Season 3 of Bridgerton airs, because the story is intended to take place in the background of the same season and if things don't make sense after the show comes out then oh well 🤭 I'm also only 2/3 of the way through Julia Quinn's books, so please forgive me if some of my characterizations of the Bridgertons are not wholly correct 🙏🏻

Wonderful Bridgerton inspired dividers by @saradika-graphics 🥰

Series Masterlist

The Duchess of Hastings stands behind you, admiring the reflection in the mirror of the two of you together, “I dare say, if you had debuted with me during my season, there is a good chance that I may not have been the Diamond.”

“Oh, shush, your Grace,” you make a funny face at her in the mirror, to which she laughs and pokes you in the ribs, “Don’t you start with this ‘Your Grace’ business with me.”

That Daphne Bridgerton is your dearest and oldest friend in England is something you consider to be one of the great fortunes of your life, of which, as the daughter of a Count, you have many.  Violet Bridgerton and your mother, the Countess, had been dear friends and as such, much of your early childhood in England had been spent at Bridgerton House, running around with not only the same aged Daphne, but her elder and younger siblings as well.  The Bridgertons are one of the most beloved families of the ton, their good natured and spirited personalities recommending themselves to everyone, and accordingly, your memories of when your two families would gather remain some of the most joyous of your childhood.

Sadly, your dear mother passed away from illness when you were only seven years of age and your beloved father, who loved her more than life itself, could not bear to stay in England much without her.  The Count was one of several nobles charged with governance of Her Majesty’s Royal Naval Fleet; a gentle man, his purview was primarily diplomatic (as opposed to militaristic) and he thus travelled widely, often and always for long periods of time.

Though he did not wish to remain where so many of his memories dwelled, the Count could not bear to leave his only child behind, and consequently, you had joined your father on his travels.  He proudly raised a cheerful, spirited daughter who loved the seas and adventure as much as she did reading and music.  Your father found that exposing you to and requiring you to immerse yourself in so many foreign cultures at a young age led you to be the most sympathetic and kind hearted child, one who others found easy to converse with and befriend on account of your good humoured nature and open minded heart.  Unencumbered by the rigid etiquette requirements (and dress code!) of British high society, you happily embraced many freedoms that other young ladies of your age and breeding did not have the opportunity to enjoy.  Your father taught you much about the ships and business of the naval fleet, subjects to which you took a great interest; to this day, you know your way around most ships better than some sailors.  The Count was especially proud of your affinity for diplomacy, understanding the importance of fairness and tough negotiation both in foreign matters and managing fleets.  You loved all of it – spending countless hours pouring over maps and letters of diplomatic matters with your father and absorbing all you could; as you got older, you took great pride in the way your father would sometimes seek your opinion and advice on business matters and delighting when he would praise you on your ideas.

While he was unorthodox, your father could not be accused of being neglectful; he would not forgo your formal and societal education, knowing that one day, you would have to return to live in England.  Hiring only the most adventurous and brave governesses to accompany your travels, the Count ensured that your literary, numerical, musical and artistic accomplishments and pursuits could rival those of your peers back home.  You learned to dance the dances of grand balls, though you had only the few foreign dignitary hosted events to practice.  Your only other occasion to practice came when you would return for your infrequent visits to England, reuniting with your beloved Bridgertons to spend nearly all your time catching up and laughing with Daphne and her siblings, and take in what you could of British society before once again being swept away on another ship.  Though brief, these reunions with your friends, coupled with your frequent letters were enough to ensure your friendships remained strong and cherished over the years.

Two years ago, Daphne had made her societal debut, meeting and marrying her love, the Duke, during the marriage season and you could not have been more delighted for your friend.  That season should have also been your debut season, except that you and your father were in the Far East and would not have been able to complete the Count’s business and return in time.  Since you had postponed one year, what was two?  If you had your way, you would have made it three, not eager to give up the life of travel and leisure that you’ve grown accustomed to.  However, when the Queen wrote to ask why the daughter of one of her esteemed Counts has not yet been presented, both you and your father had to regretfully concede that your life as a carefree sea farer was over.

And thus, you find yourself in your present circumstance: in a luxurious silk gown the colour of swan feathers, wearing what might actually be swan feathers in your hair, about to be presented to the Queen before embarking on your first social season.  To be honest, you’re not terribly nervous, save for whatever nerves one always has whenever attempting something new, and you have good reasons not to be.

The first being that you are in the very capable hands of your great friend, the Duchess.  The now Dowager Viscountess had promised your mother that when the time for your debut came, it would be the Bridgerton family’s honour to sponsor you.  If anything, you felt that the honour was all yours – not only were you to have the support and backing of one of the most respected and revered families during your season, you would also be blessed with their company.  As fortune would have it, due to the timing of your debut, Violet had prepared herself to take on the duty of presenting not one but two girls: yourself and her third eldest daughter, Francesca. 

Fearing it was far too much work and pressure, you had assured Violet, whom you loved as a second mother, that she need not fret too much over you; you’re a woman of twenty-three with more world experience than most men twice your age, and encouraged her to focus her attentions on her own daughter.  Violet had been aghast at the implication that she didn’t think of you as one of her daughters, and you were about to be on the receiving end of a scolding that only a mother could dispense when Daphne came to your rescue.  As the Duchess of Hastings, she herself had the right to present young ladies at court, and she declared herself delighted to be your patroness this season.  This was decidedly a win-win; not only could Violet concentrate on Francesca’s prospects, you could now look forward to spending the season with your dear friend by your side.

The second reason you’re not overly anxious is that despite being older than most of the girls debuting at the same time, you know you have plenty to recommend you to potential suitors.  No, you are not terribly conceited nor do you hold your own attributes in such high esteem, but rather, very practically, you know most suitors will not let a small thing such as age deter them from the handsome fortune your father has bestowed upon you. 

The Count was forever exasperated with the shortcomings of the laws of inheritance and how they prevented his one child from inheriting his estate, but he made up for it the best he could with the legal avenues available to him.  First, he set aside a healthy dowry for you, so that you would be sure to attract a similarly healthy crop of high society gentlemen from which to choose a husband.  Second, via his will, you would be provided for for the remainder of your life with a generous per annum allowance that rivaled the income of many estates; you were to want for nothing even if you never married. 

And finally, known only to a select few, your father had a vast investment in an international fleet separate from the naval fleet of the queen; a beloved exploration and trade business venture that was the Count’s passion project - you and him spending many enjoyable hours pouring over the plans and movements of this fleet.  The dividends from your father’s shares went directly into a trust of which you (and any future children of yours) are the sole beneficiary, though the capital had to be held by a man.  It was the Count’s thinking that in addition to the income, it was only fair that you benefitted from a venture that you had invested much of your own heart and time into.  Naturally, being a part of your father’s estate, this investment could be passed down to the next Count (a distant relative), but your father had other plans.  If the intended recipient was willing, you father wanted to sell his shares to his future son-in-law, allowing for the dividends to continue flowing to you and so that you may remain close to the business via your husband’s involvement. 

In other words, there are plenty of reasons that potential suitors who might otherwise be dismissive of your age and lack of societal presence, may find you attractive (the least of which were probably your charm and wit); you can afford to be choosy and you fully intend to be.  And while you’re not quite so hopeful to wish for a great love like that of your parents, or even Daphne and her beloved Simon, you dearly wish for a husband that will understand and respect you; one who will celebrate you for your mind, experience, opinions and all the reasons why you’re different due to having grown up the way you did.

Daphne seems to have high hopes that there will be many potential suitors who will live up to your expectations.  You’re less confident than she, but still more optimistic than not.

Flopping yourself down on the chaise next to Eloise, the two of you heave heavy sighs in unison.  After the nerve-racking presentation to the queen earlier this week, the following days have been a non-stop flurry of ribbons, fittings, etiquette lessons and teas with the express purpose of study in the who’s who of the ton.  In just a few hours, all of Violet and Daphne’s hard work and preparations will be put on display when your contingent attends the first event of the season: the Danbury Ball.

Eloise passes a box of candy to you and you select a treat gratefully.  Though Daphne is your closest friend, you’ve sometimes found yourself having a fair amount in common with Eloise and know her to be a trustworthy confidant; this is one of those times.  While you don’t think you have it in you to hate anything as much as Eloise despises the marriage mart, the both of you at least have the good fortune of being able to be picky with your suitors and moreover, wish to exercise that particular privilege.  For Eloise, marriage is a cage.  For you, it’s the not marriage itself, but a union with an imprudent match that you wish to avoid.  If you can no longer be free to sail the seas and wander through the valleys and streets of the foreign lands that call your name, you must insist that the home you’re being called home to roost is at the very least, pleasant.

“I beg of you,” murmurs Eloise, “Please let all the fashionable young men fill up your dance card so that there shall be none left for me.”

You steal another piece of candy, “I’m afraid there’s more than enough young men to go around, El.  Plus, you really ought to beseech Franny for your request, my dance card may struggle for applicants on account of me being such an old maid,” you giggle.

“None of that negativity now,” chimes in Daphne from the open door, “tonight is full of possibilities.”

During the season, you’re staying at Bridgerton House so to be close to all the finery of dresses, jewels, shoes, ladies’ maids and moral support that you may need.  Your father is staying nearby in another house on Grosvenor Square, and comes by most days to see his daughter and dear family friends for breakfast at the very least.  You have loved your life with your father, but at times like these, when you are laughing at and listening to the loving snipes and bickering of the Bridgerton siblings, you often wonder what it would have been like to have a more traditional upbringing.  Pushing that thought out of your mind, you stand and pull Eloise up with you so that the two of you can follow the Duchess to the next room where you’re expected to choose from the glittering selection of dresses laid out for tonight.

As you lean towards selecting a pretty lavender gown, Daphne fills you in on the processional arrangements for your entrances tonight, “Mama, Franny, Anthony and Kate will take the first carriage, then you, Eloise and I will follow in the second.  We will enter the ball in that order as well.”

“What about Colin and Ben?”

“They’re meeting with some friend from Colin’s travels whom he met in… I want to say Greece?  They will make their own way and meet us at the ball.”  You nod agreeably; as long as everyone is together at some point or another, your first season event will feel a lot less daunting.

---

As you walk into the Danbury estate, you cannot but feel a bit overwhelmed by all the elegance and glamour on display.  Though no stranger to luxury and finer things, it’s not very often that you find yourself amidst so much opulence.  Eyes shining as you take in the finery, your voice is full of excitement and genuine awe as you compliment Lady Danbury and thank her for hosting tonight’s soiree.  Hand clasped tight in Daphne and Eloise’s as you make your way down the main hall to the ballroom, you see Colin further down on the right side of the hallway, waving alongside Benedict.  Waiting by the wall with the Bridgerton brothers is a third gentleman, tall and broad shouldered with soft, curly brown hair who currently has his back to you; Colin has on a mischievous grin and he’s speaking to the stranger quietly, eyes flitting back to you and his sisters periodically as you approach.  This can’t be good, you think with suspicion.  When you’re a few steps away from meeting with the brothers, Colin gives the stranger a slight nod and he turns around; before you even have a chance to look upon the newcomer’s face, you hear a familiar sweet baritone voice say, “Hello, Dulce.”

At first, you’re in shock; the Spanish word for candy is not a nickname people commonly call you and it’s one you haven’t heard in over ten years.  Then joy of recognition and realization overtake you and you completely forget where you are, crying out, “Pero!!!”  Your arms behave of their own accord and fly open to wrap around his neck as you launch yourself into the handsome man’s arms.

He hugs you back firmly and whispers low in your ear, “Happy to see you, too” before releasing you, the both of you immediately stepping apart and drop your hands to your sides, remembering where you are and that the eyes of the ton are always watching.  But you can’t help but beam; nor can you look away from Pero’s face. 

Pero Tovar had been your most constant and beloved friend for many of your happiest childhood years spent abroad.  Pero’s father, a Barón of Spain, was in charge of naval governance for his country in a similar capacity as your father was for England and accordingly, their paths crossed regularly in foreign countries.  Both men of gentlemanly dispositions, the Count and the Barón had forged a deep and lasting friendship as they conducted their business.  Another thing that they had bonded over was the fact that they were both widows who uncharacteristically chose to bring and raise their children with them on their travels. 

So, although Pero is eight years your elder and already in his early teens when you first met, being the only two children of sea loving foreign diplomats in the strange lands you found yourselves in readily recommended you to each other and you had become happy and frequent playmates.  Pero devoted hours and hours to your amusement, allowing himself to play more juvenile games of pretend that he may not otherwise with compatriots of his own age, and with his encouragement you grew to be brave and curious, always wishing to keep up with the older boy.  He helped you with your studies, and you played music for him, learning and mastering the pieces he enjoyed the most.  The two of you shared a love of literature and it became your special version of a traditional hunt in each new country you landed in to find foreign language versions of the other’s favourite books so that you could read the translations alongside your worn English copies.  Some of the most cherished copies of your favourite books, ones you carry with you from country to country still, were gifts from Pero. 

As you got older, your shared adventures expanded to include exploring the streets of new cities, trying local cuisines and frolicking on the beaches of the coasts of Italy, Portugal and even India.  The last time you had seen him, he was a strapping young man of twenty and you had been twelve.  His father was returning to Spain for an undetermined amount of time to deal with affairs of his estate, and Pero would be entering university, having postponed his acceptance for two years already.  Although you had each promised to write, the letters were far and few between and eventually you lost track of Pero – you can hardly blame either of you; you were travelling with your father and not always easy to find, and you didn’t really expect a young man concentrating on his studies to have the time to write to a young girl despite having been her very best friend for so many years.

But now he’s standing right in front of you and you can hardly believe your eyes.  He’s impossibly tall and wide, a far cry from the lanky boy with whom you scrambled over rocks on the beaches of Portugal, but he’s still tanned, leading you to surmise that he must still sail or at least get a healthy amount of sun regularly.  And while his face is older, devastatingly handsome with a cutting jawline partially hidden by untamed facial scruff, he’s completely recognizable to you.  An easy clue is the scar that runs from above his left eyebrow down past his eye, though faded from when you saw it last, but it’s the indulgent smile he’s giving you right now that gives him away to you.

“What are you doing at this ball? Did you know I would be here?” you can’t help but continue to stare at Pero wide-eyed, grinning like a fool.

“Oh!  We made the connection earlier this week at dinner,” chimes in Colin, “We were going to bring him over to the house but thought this would be more fun.”

You make to swat at Colin’s arm. “How did you meet this scoundrel?” you jest, with absolutely no malice in your voice, pointing your thumb at the still laughing Bridgerton brother.  As your group starts to move towards the ballroom, Pero falls into an easy step by your side, “We met when Colin was taking in the crisp sea air of Mykonos, and then again last year in the vineyards of Tuscany.  He made for excellent company after a long day of helping the locals prune grape vines.  Naturally, when I arrived in London for business this month, I had to look him up.”

Daphne is now tugging you towards the ballroom by your hand, and in turn, you’ve grabbed onto and are practically dragging Eloise down the hall with you.  You shout back to Pero, “I want to hear everything!” and can’t help the smile that spreads across your excited face when he nods after you.

“Oh!” you breathe, invigorated from the surprise of seeing Pero, as you come to a stop right before the entrance way.  Daphne smiles over at you, “It was so hard keeping it a secret from you!”

You’re astonished, “You knew about Pero as well?”

“Yes, I thought it might give you an additional boost of confidence to have another friend’s support during your first event.” 

You smile at your sweet friend and squeeze her hand affectionately, “Thank you!  It does and I’m delighted to see Pero again.  But in truth, my confidence could never be lacking when I have a friend like you next to me.” 

Daphne gives you her biggest smile and squeezes your hand right back.  A moment later, the three of you step into the ballroom and meet the gazes of the other attendees as you’re announced.

---

The ball is a whirlwind.  It seems you hardly have a moment to even catch your breath, never mind catch up with Pero.  From the moment you walked in to the grand hall, you were pulled in this direction and then that, introduced to new person after new person, some of whose names were familiar from your visits home over the years, and others only from the copious amounts of study you’ve done on the ton over the past week.  You’ve certainly forgotten all their names by now. 

Then it’s dance after dance after dance with the young gentleman that Daphne parades in front of you.  The dancing itself is quite pleasant and a lovely way to shake out some of your jitters, but you find the small talk hardly enough to get to know your partners, and when the dance is over and you’re once again being whisked away to another introduction or meeting that the Duchess has lined up for you.  The few opportunities you’ve had to take a breather and indulge in a glass of lemonade, you’ve been happy to retreat back to Pero and your small familiar group; but just when you’ve started to entreat your old friend to open up about his adventures since you saw him last, another potential suitor will be introduced and the entire cycle starts over again.

It’s only when you’re halfway through the evening that the frenzy has died down enough that you can observe and be amused by Pero’s behaviour at the ball.  While you’re constantly twirling around the dancefloor, you notice that he never leaves his position against the wall and doesn’t dance at all; he mainly scowls and looks displeased, hardly speaking to anyone other than the Bridgertons or you when you have a free moment.  You feel his eyes follow you as you glide across the dance floor with the young men that have asked you to dance, and even when you’re making your way through the room on Daphne’s arm, meeting and making small talk with the other families of the ton.  When you do happen to look up and search for him, you often find him glowering and looking dissatisfied, though if you catch his eye, his expression will soften slightly. 

Once while you were dancing with Lord Whitfield, you had caught Pero’s eye mid-turn and made a silly quizzical face at him, as if to ask What’s going on with you? and you think you see him laugh briefly before the steps of the dance require you to turn away from him.  You wonder why frowns so fearsomely and if there’s a reason for him to be so stoic and curt with the rest of the ton.  It’s so odd to you as you’ve never had so much as a cross word from him in all the time you’ve known him, not even when you had snuck out of the compound in Singapore when you were nine so you could watch the fireworks display.  Pero had come looking for you, his face serious and eyes panicked when he finally found you in the busy square, but he never once got mad.  Instead, he swore not to tell your father, and promised that if you had wanted to see the fireworks up close, he would accompany you.  And then he did just that the next night and the night after that.  But here, when not engaging the company of his friends, Pero’s countenance is positively sour.  Any hopes harboured by the mamas of the ton for snagging a Spanish nobility son-in-law this season are quickly dashed.  Barón Tovar is decidedly not here to find a wife.

With the evening more than half over, you realize that unless you make the point to do so, an opportunity to speak more than a few minutes with Pero will surely not present itself.  And while you are having fun meeting potential suitors, your mind consistently wanders to Pero throughout the evening.  Aside from simply wishing to catch up with him and be in his comforting presence, you do have something important you feel compelled to speak to him on.

After a particularly spirited quadrille, you curtsey your gratitude for the dance to Mr. Sedgewick, and before any of the young men you spy hovering nearby can approach you, you hurry as elegantly as you can toward where Pero is standing awkwardly pressed to the wall. 

Pero, having seen the look of determination on your face when seeking him out, asks with concern when you come up to him, “Is everything okay, Dulce?”

There he is, you smile when you see the kind, gentle expression of the boy that you knew for so many years, “Everything is fine, Pero.  Although I must admit to needing a respite from all the endless socializing.  Do you think we could get some lemonade?”

“Of course.  I would be happy to accompany you in fetching a glass.”

With Pero by your side, any person who previously had designs on engaging you during this brief break between dances now thinks better of it; you chuckle to yourself as his fearsome expression comically paves a clear path for you to the refreshments table.  Once having secured your drink, you ask Pero if you can speak to him privately.

Careful not to lead you from view of other people lest it incite a scandal, Pero finds a quiet place in the entrance hallway and turns to find you looking up at him rather seriously.

When you’re certain you have his attention, you launch into your confession, “Pero, please allow me to tell you how sorry I was to hear of your father’s passing.  I remember him as such a kind, generous man, and such a wonderful friend to my father and by extension, me.  I will always think of him with tremendous fondness.”

“Thank you, Dulce.  I know he thought very highly of both you and your father and forever treasured your friendships.”

But you’re not done and start to shake your head, eyes filling with tears, “And I’m so very sorry that I did not write to you at the time.  I didn't know where you were, but I should have been more diligent in my efforts to find you.  I deeply regret not being there for you if you needed someone.  I hope you were not alone during that difficult time.”

You hang your head in shame.  Pero feels a deep affection for you blossoming in his chest; before him is the same sweet and compassionate girl he knew when he was a boy.  Tender-hearted and endlessly considerate of the feelings of others, you always had more empathy than you knew what to do with; he himself had been on the receiving end of your care and concern more times than he could count.  Pero gently tips you chin up with his gloved finger, “It was a tough time and I miss him a great deal.  But he was an incredible man and I strive to follow the example he set for me everyday.  So, in many ways, he is still with me.  No need for any apologies.”  He gives you what he hopes is a soft and reassuring smile.

In return, you grin, “Who are you and what have you done with my friend?  The boy I knew would have made me pay dearly for even the slightest offense - my portion of dessert for a week, at the very least.”

Unable to hold back his own grin, Pero is finding it easy to slip back into this familiar type of playful banter with you, “Well, I was trying to be a gentleman, but since you think me nothing more than a brute, I shall have no trouble devising an appropriate punishment.  For your transgression against me, I demand… a dance.”

You laugh whole-heartedly and it feels wonderful to laugh loudly at something genuinely funny rather than the quiet polite laughter you’ve been making most of the evening. “A dance?  Well, that is hardly a concession for me!  One dance with you means one less spot on my dance card for some lord I don’t know but who Daphne thinks I might find charming,” you joke.

“Are you finding your potential suitors so far to be villains or are they all just very boring?” smirks Pero.

Giving him a little punch in the arm to show him you’re not really complaining, “I am not so terribly unfeeling.  They are for the most part fine enough gentlemen.  The particular circumstance we find ourselves in just makes them so very eager.  It can feel terribly awkward.”

“None of them are good enough for you anyway.”

“Oh, and you are?” you jest, eyes full of mirth.

“Dulce, I’m the worst of the bunch,” counters Pero, leaning in close.

“I don’t doubt it,” you haven’t smiled this wide all evening.

“Be that as it may, the price you must pay to regain my favour remains the same.  Shall we?” Pero holds out his arm, waiting for you to accept his dance invitation; you hold on to him gratefully and head back into the main ballroom, realizing this is the first dance of the ball that you’ve truly looked forward to.

When Pero takes his place across from you, the tittering from the crowd that the Barón has finally taken to the dance floor can be heard over the opening notes of the music.  You can’t help but giggle, and Pero beams back at you – your light laughter more melodic than any music he’s ever heard.

Hand firmly curling around your waist, Pero sways you to the beat and the two of you carry out the steps of the dance comfortably together.  You hadn’t realized how much stress you’ve been under or how much tension you’ve been holding in until now, when you find yourself actually relaxing in Pero’s strong hold.  For the first time this evening, you’re dancing without nerves or the pressure of having to make polite conversation or a good first impression; you can simply be.  You sigh in contentment.

“What is it, Dulce?  Are my dance skills not to the standard set by your other partners this evening?”

“Hardly,” you chuckle, “I know for a fact that you dance remarkably well.  And if I were to have any complaints, the blame would rest squarely on my shoulders since we learned these dances together.”

“That’s true, we can only be as good as the partners we practice with.”

“Exactly. At least that’s what Madam used to say, right before she would rap you on your shoulders with her rhythm baton,” you muse, nostalgic.

“That weapon had a name?  I have not thought of Madam for many years now, but upon my word if I did not straighten up and stiffen my arms just now.”

You share another chortle as only two close friends with a long history of fond memories and inside jokes between them can.  When you sigh again, Pero cocks his scarred eyebrow at you.

“Do not think me dissatisfied, my Lord.  It is simply just so comfortable dancing with you, as if it has not been over ten years since we last did so.”

“I feel the same way, Dulce.”

You smile sincerely at Pero; although you could explain yourself further, you somehow know that he understands your meaning without you having to do so.  Feeling content, both heart and mood light in the safety of Pero’s closed frame, you find yourself wishing that you could spend the rest of the ball dancing with only him.

I've never done a tag list before so please let me know if it doesn't work, or you don't/do want to be on it, or it sets your phone on fire 😅 @drewharrisonwriter @inept-the-magnificent @tuquoquebrute @titabel

[two-white-butterflies]

is it over now? | c16

Description: You reminisce about a relationship that was never meant to be. Charles moves on - but you stay there.

Pairing: charles leclerc/short!reader

(not really that short, more like 4'11 - 5'3)

yournamelovely: 1989 (Taylor's Version) is out now! I had so much fun being the only feature in the remastered album. Please listen to 'Is It Over Now?' 💙🦋 Thank you for this beautiful opportunity Tay!

liked by 2,382,012 others

>comments

theraindrops4: I'm so proud of you 😭

taylorswift: 💙

nickdevries: Don't forget us when you're famous. - yournamelovely: Who are you again??

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There were many different ways to get over a breakup; some of them included healing, traveling and finding yourself - but how could you get over Charles fucking Leclerc? He was everything that you wanted in a man - dimpled cheeks, monegasque accent, and a perfect family that you adored. He was everything you needed.

When he decided to call things off three months ago. You haven't been the same. "Congrats on your new song with Taylor! I listened to it and I can't believe you both kept it hidden for 6 years?" Selena chuckled while handing you one of Taylor's famous mocktails.

"It was supposed to be in my debut album - but it didn't make sense. Now, I think - it makes absolute sense." you chuckled, staring off to the side. Yep, Charles' new fling was a Slovakian model - who by all means, looked beautiful. Blonde hair and blue eyes, you couldn't find it in yourself to hate her. How could anyone hate an angel?

"Oh come on, we have to catch up soon. You still haven't told me about the thing with Charles." Blake's eyes narrowed, she leaned on the door-frame - eyes trailing back and forth between you and her kids that were running around the backyard. "What is there left to say? Our relationship was amazing - it ended and we're going in separate ways." you simplified, leaning on the chair.

Blake took a deep breath, finally settling down in between Selena and Ryan. "I always thought that you'd end up together," she admitted - although she sooner realized that it wasn't the proper thing to say. "Charles, ending up with someone? He's not the guy that dreams about marriage. Maybe in another life, I'll want something less." you looked in the deep horizon.

"Maybe it was for the better that things ended - you obviously didn't agree on big things. You deserve to be happier." Ryan butted in the conversation, sensing that you were in deep thought. "I guess," you agreed with a hum.

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yournamelovely: quickie mart mwahaha

liked by nickdevries and 1,239,120 others

>comments

yournamelover: WHAT IS THIS HUMOR? HAHAHA

charlos92: please get back with charles

destinyshanggggee: I WOULDN'T MARRY ME EIGHTER

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olenna_markiz: Congratulations lovie! @Charles_Leclerc

liked by 81,203 others

>comments

hollyshit2: YOU LOOK SO GOOD TOGETHER

bolld6: the look of pure love omg

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charlesandy/nforever: real eyes realize that she was the one ...

liked by 712 others

>comments

derivativeofx: The way that he threw it all away 😭

leftovers8: WE NEED AN EXPLAINATION

yournameleclerc: huhuhuhu

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You thought that having the internet hate Charles' new girlfriend would make you feel better - but it honestly made you feel worst. The entire fucking world fucking hates her, thinks that she's better than you - but it wouldn't change the fact that he chose her. It wouldn't change the fact that you didn't blame her.

You would risk the world for Olenna Markiz too.

"There has been a flurry of hate in social media directed towards your past relationship and his new girlfriend. What do you have to say about that?" the interviewer cornered you. The grip on your hoodie tightened - you wanted to buy food, but the Paps found you. "This is about Charles and Olenna, right? I'll be blunt - our relationship did end on a sour note but it's not an excuse to be mean towards her."

"- at the end of the day, we're separately happy. Please stop making rumors about us or about her. Especially her - because umm she wasn't the reason for our breakup. Judging from the posts I see on social media, they're really in love. I wish nothing but the best for them." you smiled bitterly, walking away as your manager suddenly rushes to your side.

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ynandcharlesuniverse: 1 year ago, (Your Name) wrote 'Timeless' for Charles Leclerc. I believe that we were supposed to find this, cuz even in a different life you still would've been mine.

liked by 827 others

comments have been restricted.

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Charles_Leclerc: With the beautiful girl 💞

liked by yournamelovely and 1,283,930 others

>comments

romanempire3: beautiful pair omgg

carlandodestroyer: OLENNA MARKIZ IS LITERALLY MOMMY

obladioblada: does it ever drive you crazy, just how fast the night...

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yournamelovely: World Tour EP ... featuring three songs: lacy, nonsense and vicious.

liked by 3,283,012 others

>comments

nickdevries: LACY >>>

danielricciardo: LACY >>>

chickenpozes34: WE ARE FED

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"Hey!" you waved at the girl beside you.

It was a charity gala - benefiting the orphans of Europe. To your surprise, you were seated beside Olenna Markiz. The girl's shadow seemed to haunt you all the way to Texas. "Hi, it's nice to finally meet you. I'm such a big fan," she gives you a firm handshake.

There was cautiousness in her posture - like she was trying to determine if you were nice or bad. "Likewise, I love your work with Bottega and Mugler." you named, oblivious to the cameras that were pointed in your direction. "Really? Not a lot of people recognize me, to them we're just girls wearing clothes." she chuckled.

"It's hard to be a woman in this economy, but I assure you - there are lots of people who know how to appreciate art." you complimented. It was your dream to be a model - ever since you were little, you were always fascinated with supermodels. Alas, God didn't grant you with the suitable height required. "I just hope that I meet them soon enough," she whispered to herself, before returning her attention to the man on the stage.

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Olenna didn't know what to expect with her boyfriend's ex-girlfriend. A lot of people in reddit spoke about her bluntness, that she was unapologetically human - often lashing out in her childhood star years. There weren't a lot of posts to go along. His ex valued her privacy, rarely even attended any interviews.

To her surprise, she was pleasant company. Often making jokes that she understood and found hilarious. It was easy falling in love with (Your Name) (Last Name), what Olenna couldn't understand was how Charles fell out of love. "It was nice hanging out with you, maybe we could grab some coffee in the future?" she offered, a foot inside her luxury car. "Sure, I'll give your agent my number." Lena agreed.

Happy to have made a friend.

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LET'S NOT PIT WOMEN AGAINST EACH OTHER

WILL FOREVER BE A GIRL'S GIRL

[cyberneticfallout]

Chapter Seven: The GoverMint

Ch 1 - Ch 2 - Ch 3 - Ch 4 - Ch 5 - Ch 6 - Ch 7 - Ch 8 - Ch 9 - Ch 10 - More Coming Soon

Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Fem!Reader Summary: Two men bring you into custody and some new information comes to light. Tags: Slow burn (and I mean SLOWWW), angst, eventually more smut, language, canon-typical violence, chem/alcohol use, more tags will be added Posted on AO3: Smoothie and The Ghoul Word Count: 2.1k

"What? Never had mornin’ wood before, Smoothie?” The Ghoul snickers as you shake your head in confusion. While yes, it’s a fairly natural thing to occur, you weren’t exactly expecting to see his hard-on first thing.

"Alright, love birds,” the man starts, causing both of you to glare at him. “Destroying a legitimate business? That's illegal 'round these parts.”

You exchange a quick glance with The Ghoul, both of you clearly annoyed by the man calling you ‘love birds’. "First of all, we are not together. And - will you please adjust yourself, Beef Jerky - second of all, this... was a legitimate business? Says who?” you ask, gesturing vaguely around the room as The Ghoul rolls his eyes and slowly covers himself with his hat.

"The government," the man proudly declares before abruptly striking The Ghoul in the face with his rifle.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Let's not get crazy here," you interject, raising your hands in protest, realizing that two against one isn't a smart choice at the moment. Your head is throbbing from the alcohol you drank the night before, leaving you in no condition to fight back.

“Don’t worry, miss. Your husband is okay, but you two gotta face justice,” the man replies. You huff a frustrated sigh at the continued assumption that you two are a couple. Looking the man over, you notice a crudely made sheriff badge with the name Troy etched onto it.

“May I call you Troy?” you ask, pointing to his badge. He gives you a smile, indicating it’s okay. “Now, Troy, this man right here isn’t my husband. We are just traveling companions who happened to come across this already destroyed business.”

Troy sighs, “We ain’t stupid, ma’am. We gotta bring ya both in. Rex!” He shouts at the other man, “Tie ‘em up and we’ll move out once that one wakes back up.”

Shortly after, The Ghoul wakes up and the four of you are on the move towards the supposed government. You keep stealing glances at him, hoping for any sign of a plan, but he remains silent and focused on the path ahead. The restraints around your wrists chafe against your skin, causing irritation. These two men seem dumb as hell but the one sure knows how to use rope.

Finally, the four of you approached a building sporting a sign that proudly proclaims "The GoverMint”. The Ghoul shot you a glance, and you couldn't help but roll your eyes in exasperation. The sight of the misspelled sign only reinforced your growing realization that you were dealing with a bunch of idiots. The building itself appeared run-down and neglected, a stark contrast to the grandeur one might expect from an actual government facility. The paint was peeling, the windows were dirty, and the overall atmosphere exuded an air of disarray. As you were escorted inside by Troy and Rex, you couldn't shake the feeling that this whole situation was more absurd than dangerous.

"Well, shit!" a hefty man exclaims, sitting at a table with a plate of food. "I heard it was a ghoul that messed up that Super Duper Mart. Nobody told me it was the ghoul."

"Why, Sorrel Booker," The Ghoul smirks.

You silently mouth to The Ghoul, "You know this guy?"

"You boys know who you just brought in? This sumbitch right here used to be the best bounty hunter to ever shoot a man in the ass," Sorrel chuckles as the two men usher you to sit in front of him. "Kids these days don’t know their goddamn history."

"Say, you got a needle and thread?” The Ghoul casually asks. “I think I got some in my bag, actually. Would you mind?"

Sorrel hesitates for a moment, eyeing him, but ultimately nods his head. Troy hands over the needle and thread, and The Ghoul's restraints are untied. With a calm demeanor, he picks up a perfectly cut finger and begins sewing it onto his missing one. You can't help but watch in disbelief, your mouth agape, trying to make sense of the bizarre scene unfolding before you. What the fuck is happening right now?

"Whose finger is that?!" You blurt out unintentionally, causing silence to take over the room.

Sorrel takes a good look at you as he spits out a piece of meat and puts it in a bowl labeled 'cysts’, turning his attention to the man next to you. “200 years. I don’t know what keeps you going. Maybe you just like the feeling of that good old California sunshine on your wrinkly-ass face. Or maybe you’re still looking for her. Maybe not though... this your girlfriend or somethin’?"

"You really think I’d shack up with some smoothskin? She ain’t even that pretty.” The Ghoul retorts, ignoring your offended look as he scrunches his newly sewn finger to make sure it's functional. “And I sure as hell ain't still alive so that I can have unintelligent conversations with dipshits like yourself."

“Mind your fucking mouth. That’s the president of the government you’re talking to.” Troy speaks up.

“Oh, you’re president now?” He raises a brow, “In that case, I am hearing a whole lot of chatter about some woman. Name of Moldaver. They call her the Flame Mother.”

This new information about a woman catches you off guard, as it's the first time you've heard about her on this journey. While the two men continue their conversation, you find yourself racking your brain as the mention of Moldaver triggers a memory in your mind. You vaguely recall whispers in the air about a woman who leads a group of people up in the mountains. Tension begins to build in the room as you find yourself deep in thought, analyzing her possible connection to the bounty you were originally after. You notice a shift in the dynamics between the men after The Ghoul taunts Troy about killing his father in Filly. It seems to have struck a nerve and Rex is ordered to take away Troy's weapons.

“Take him out back and feed him to the hogs,” Sorrel's harsh order snaps you out of your thoughts. "And this one might be good for the local brothel."

"Oh, hell no," you mutter as Troy pulls you up to take you away. Determined to fight back, you struggle to release yourself from his grasp, refusing to be taken without a fight. Suddenly, a gunshot rings out, causing chaos in the room. The Ghoul, seizing an opportunity, managed to grab Rex’s pistol and shot him.

With the distraction, you act quickly. In a burst of adrenaline-fueled strength, you headbutt Troy, feeling the sharp pain of impact, and then tackle him to the ground. Overwhelmed by a surge of emotions and a fierce desire for survival, you unleash a flurry of tied fists striking his face repeatedly. Blood splatters across your face as you continue to pummel him. He’s surely dead by now but you can't stop - there is no way you are going to a brothel against your will.

Feeling a warm hand touch your shoulder, you are startled out of your frenzy. Looking up, you lock eyes with The Ghoul, who is standing over you with a small crooked smile playing on his lips. There is a glint of amusement in his gaze, as if he is savoring this violent side of you. His presence and subtle expression of approval offer a strange sense of validation for you.

“Goddamn it,” Sorrel exclaims in frustration, throwing his fork onto the table. As you slowly rise from the man you just bludgeoned to death, The Ghoul starts untying the rope around your wrists. Despite gloves covering his hands again, you find solace in his gentle touch as he works to release you from your bindings. Once finished, he strides over to the wall littered with wanted posters and tears off a sketch of a woman.

“I got one question for you, ol’ buddy. Why do you have this picture on your wall?” The Ghoul inquires, holding up the sketch.

“That’s Moldaver. Why?” Sorrel responds, a sense of curiosity evident in his voice.

“Well, that’s not how I remember her, is all,” He remarks cryptically.

“Yeah? Well, how do you remember her?”

The Ghoul doesn’t say a word and without further explanation he leads you both outside. The two of you stand facing each other in silence. He lets out a sigh and reaches for a dirty rag in his pocket, handing it to you without a word. You take it and begin to clean yourself up but it’s proves pointless as it’s just smearing the blood all over.

"Well, that didn't do shit," he remarks as he takes the rag back from you. His gaze scans the area until he spots a barrel of grimy water, prompting him to grab you by the base of your hair and drag you over to it. As he dunks your face into the water, you shout in protest, the shock of the cold liquid causing you to react instinctively. He lifts your head up and looks at you, his expression unreadable.

"What the fuck are you doing?! Do you just like waterboarding women in your free time?!" you yell angrily, spitting excess water onto his face.

"You're clean now," he states simply as he gestures to the now wet and cleansed skin on your face. “Come on, let’s get goin’.”

“Wait, you still want me around?” you question, surprised by his response.

“I saw you back there. Proved useful,” he acknowledges, wiping the spit off his face with a nonchalant expression. He starts walking away, and you instinctively follow his lead, the rhythm of his steps guiding you away from the ‘government’.

Trailing behind him for most of the day, you're left with nothing but the echo of your dream still etched in your mind. The surreal scene of a nuclear explosion as he touched you intimately felt oddly real, even in its absurdity. Your eyes study his form, his posture, the way he moves - every detail etching itself into your consciousness. He dunked you in cold, murky water, and yet here you are, daydreaming what it might actually feel like to have his body pressed against you.

Unknown to you, The Ghoul is wrestling with his own inner turmoil. The dream he experienced replays in his mind like a haunting loop, stirring up emotions he'd rather keep buried. He finds himself irrationally angry with you for making him feel so vulnerable, even though he knows it was just a dream. His mind is now filled with thoughts of you - the curves of your body, the softness of your lips, the gentle touch of your hands.

He feels the weight of your gaze on him, and it unnerves him more than he'd like to admit. His fingers clench tighter around the hunting knife hanging on his belt, a physical manifestation of the internal struggle he's experiencing. He doesn't dare glance back at you, afraid that the turmoil in his eyes might give away more than he intends.

"Will you stop starin'?" His abrupt words cut through the tension, causing you to freeze in your tracks. Embarrassment washes over you as you realize he's aware of your lingering gaze. Attempting to play it off nonchalantly, you open your mouth to respond, but only incoherent sputtering and mumbled words escape. He turns to face you, an intense gaze piercing you like a bullet.

“I am not staring,” you manage to assert, a hint of defensiveness in your tone. “I’m just focused on the path ahead.”

“Listen up, Smoothie. I ain't keepin' you 'round 'cause we're best buds. It's 'cause you're damn good at spillin' blood. So don't be gettin' any ideas about you and me sharin' heartfelt moments or takin' strolls in the wasteland." He snaps.

“What the fuck are you going on about?” You laugh, but then a realization dawns on you. "Oh, hang on.… Am I the reason your 'little friend' made an appearance this morning?"

“Now what do you mean litt-“ He cuts himself off abruptly, “Don’t flatter yourself, Smoothie. I ain’t one for sentimentality or... entanglements.”

A small smile begins to tug at the corners of your lips, a reaction that visibly irks him, his annoyance evident in the way his features tighten. You can’t tell if he's contemplating strangling you or something even worse. Either way, there's a subtle thrill in knowing that you're the reason he’s so worked up. You approach him with a spring in your step and pat his chest, earning a fierce glare in return.

"Don't fret, sweetheart," you grin, your tone dripping with sarcasm as you use the endearing term, "I'll just pretend this never happened. Now, how about we find a spot to camp for the night?"

Tag List: @fallout-girl219 @ellabellabunny123 @sunnexaltation @coolrobloxkid28 @cheshirecat484 @capan-deveraux2 @rebelmarylou

[jonesywrites]

I feel compelled, so I must.

*Now with images for context

Man I shit you not, I have so much stuff to do like SO MUCH but I also have ADHD and a tendency toward hyperfixation so I am compelled, I tell you.

I'm writing for a whole ass other ship, filming, and editing for my YT channel. But I saw gifs, and I read tweets, and I saw hot takes and then I decided to react to Season 3 Part I for my channel.

I AM OBSESSED.

I'm in the middle of editing my reactions to Ep 1-4 and I just HAVE to chime in with these observations I keep having as I go through and re-live each Polin scene while editing. I know some of this has been seen/said before but I'm a newb to this fandom and I just finished listening to all of the audiobooks (save Simon and Daphne's story) so I just gotta! I OBSERVED A LOT and there's a lot here, so . . .

Colin turns to the Featherington house as soon as he arrives home and greets his family.

Because whether he's aware of it or not, he's thinking of one of those Featheringtons, who happens to be standing there as he debuts "the new Colin" to the people he cares about the most -- which includes Pen, they are telegraphing to us in this moment -- (right after testing some of that newfound charm on a gaggle of giggly girls). I don't think he greets her right away because he isn't ready yet but you can see his smile/smirk when he spots her -- like "Yep, Pen, feast your eyes, it's the new me, and NOW I'll bet you'll want to hear about my travels."

Eloise is the first person to spot that he may not really be into this "new Colin".

The show GOES OUT OF ITS WAY to let you know this isn't really Colin, that his heart isn't really into it, from jump. The siblings Bridgerton do a little "we see each other" when he questions her about trying to fit into society after all this time -- they're two sides of the same coin. He's too sensitive and romantic for the rakes of the ton and she's too independent and free-thinking for the boring trappings of the marriage mart, but here they both are. Pretending.

Colin goes out of his way to test his new charm on half the ladies at the Queen's garden party thing BEFORE he approaches Pen to talk for the first time since he got back -- at first glance he's just doing his thing, being the new him, enjoying himself and his new ability to woo the ladies but IT IS THIS AUTHOR'S HUMBLE OPINION THAT HE WAS TESTING HIS CHARM TO ITS LIMITS BEFORE HE WENT OVER TO THE ONE GIRL HE ACTUALLY WANTS TO/TRUELY ENJOYS CONVERSING WITH TO LAY IT ON HER.

Wanna bet me he wasn't thinking about Pen while he was away, wondering why she wasn't answering, plotting to talk to her when he got back, plotting to see if his new charm would work on her because she's Pen and her opinion means a lot to him? He doesn't get why yet but it's there -- the tip of the iceberg, only a strong desire for her attention and approval right now, but I can sooooo see how that started to quickly burn into a much more intense desire for just...her.

I adore how Penelope asks the dressmaker for new dresses in the fashion of "what they are wearing in Paris" after Colin tells her his new wardrobe is what's all the rage in Paris from is travels.

He always counts on her just being Pen in the citrus colors hanging on the wall, a safe place, but then he sees her in that green dress and I truly believe this is the moment he realizes -- nah fam, this isn't just "Pen my friend who doesn't count (as a woman)", this is "wow who is that woman in the striking color with pretty lips and fiery red hair?"

This poor lovesick fellow has no idea why every time he sees her at a ball his heart does a funny thing and he suddenly can't see anyone else and he gets the urge to drink whatever's in his hand/close by.

HEY BABE IT'S BECAUSE YOU LIKE HER. A LOT. She isn't just Pen who doesn't count, she is SPECIAL.

Much has been said about the "Goodnight, Mr. Bridgerton" scene, but I'll just add that you can tell when Colin is being genuine and totally himself vs when he's trying to charm her into relaxing with him/being more like her usual self.

When he says "the colour rather suits you," he's being her good friend who is pleased to see her looking so good but he's also saying that to himself, judging by his tone, like "yeah girl you should wear green more often, this makes you look damn good". And when he says he misses her, he means it, but you can also hear the armor of that New Colin Charm in his tone. It's a vulnerable thing to admit, so he uses a devilish smile and has a wink in his eyes because so far that has worked on every girl here since he got back. Not Pen, though ... he was SHOOK when she rebuffed him and called him cruel.

Yes, he is absolutely panicked that he might lose his one true friend in all of the fickle ton, but also . . . Colin is totally realizing how hot Pen is in the garden scene. Colin is looking into her gorgeous eyes and admitting how she makes him feel and you can see the real-time realization in his eyes/expression. Handshake? He is acting on his impulse to touch her while using his newfound charm to disguise his curiosity.

Colin wants to hang out with her as much as possible because that's how comfortable and appreciated she makes him feel but also it's my opinion that he, at least subconsciously, also wants to keep looking at her, getting closer to her, winning her favor. He's not even thinking about the results of the whole charm lessons thing, he's just thinking about being around Penelope as much as possible because of that realization that she makes existing in a world that is determined to misunderstand him (and has "forced" him to don a mask/facade to survive) bearable.

I agree with those who pointed out that he is taken aback by Pen's awkward flirting session with the fan because normally when they're alone talking all he sees/experiences is her wit, intelligence, keen ability to read between the lines of their society, etc.

Also, you can see he doesn't even care what the other blokes think of her, he thinks she's friggin adorable -- he can't keep the smile off his face even as he's sympathizing with her for going down faster than the Titanic-which-doesn't-exist-yet-duh-but-analogy-with-me-here.

Every moment of the private lesson scene, from him instantly abandoning the card game with his siblings to the way he planned out the whole thing and thought about where everyone would be and what window of time they'd have to "practice" shows THAT HE WAS IN FACT VERY EAGERLY AWAITING HER VISIT for their lesson. Matter of fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if he was the one who suggested the game in the garden to get everyone out of the house in anticipation of Pen’s arrival.

It is this author's humble opinion that Colin really, really wanted to pretend to flirt with Penelope to satisfy his nagging, subconscious (yet fluttering to the surface) curiosity and I AM WILLING TO BET MY TWIN SISTER'S WHOLE 2024 SALARY that (especially after her compliment shook him to his core) they wouldn't have made it much longer without him kissing her if they hadn't been interrupted and she had't read his journal.

He wanted alone time, he wanted intimacy, he wanted to flirt -- they would have charmed each other right into each other's pants if those lessons were allowed to continue, mark my words.

Colin's body was at least several weeks ahead of him. The body doesn't lie. Touching her skin in the garden. Leaning into her whenever they speak (with the convenient excuse of their height difference), pressing his palm into her lower back to escort her to the drawing room, sitting and letting her hold his hand for an unnecessarily long pause before forcing himself to stop staring at her and end the impropriety (escape the intensity of the moment to breathe and process, more like).

Jealous Colin(tm) with his intense eyes and hard jawline is everything and hot af, end of observation.

I love Dream Pen for Colin. The way he dressed her. The way his mind envisions her being breathless for him.

The way he pictures himself just holding her close and indulging in hot, sultry kisses until she's practically melting in his arms. THIS IS WHAT HE DREAMS ABOUT, WHAT HE TRULY WANTS. This boy is a Romantic with a capital ROMANTIC and I JUST LOVE how his dream about Pen reflects that so clearly. We've seen him struggling to pay attention or care in brothels but he displays more sexual intensity, passion, and lust in this romantic wet dream about simply confessing his feelings than any other time he's seen on screen with a woman he's supposed to find attractive.

The "Sweet Treats" scene, as I believe I've seen others pointing out, is --yes, sweet-- at a glance. But also HOT AF. He's pining, he's nervous, he's jealous, she's so sweet and lovely confessing her excitement and hopes for the match with Deblin. But it's also hot b/c I meeeean....The pink everywhere (pink walls, get it), her lips and his reaction to her glancing her tongue across them, his fingers flexing out of nerves but also the subconscious urge to touch, maybe even caress, is all in his stiff, hovering body language. Like, if he could shove those treats off one of those tables, throw her against it and ravage her "sweet treat" right then there in that pink little tent, homeboy totally would have if society/propriety/scandal/watching eyes weren't a concern.

SIDENOTE: I think Deblin was definitely attracted to Pen, it wasn't SOLELY a practical match for him.

He says she can make men wither within seconds of their first meeting and he definitely looks at her in a way that says he's charmed, intrigued, impressed, etc. So I think even they married, eventually he would start to miss her while away, then ache for her, then he would come home to her and he would fall. Gradually maybe, but I do believe Pen was right to hope love could grow between them. However, I'm so so sooo glad neither of them settled.

WHAT CAN BE SAID ABOUT THE CARRIAGE SCENE THAT HASN'T ALREADY BEEN SAID??? It's one of the hottest love scenes I've ever seen, and it's not because everybody is naked or because there's kink or anything crazy. It's because (for me) the actors TRULY CARE ABOUT THE DETAILS. Almost every frame has something you can freeze and stare at in awe, they DID THAT. Colin finally FEELING IT, with the one person who can truly see him and inspire those deep feelings he's been yearning for was HOT AF. Pen basically being at his mercy but also realizing her power over him and embracing it by letting him ruin her because it's COLIN (she wouldn't let anyone else do that, IMO, not even Deblin). MY FAVORITE PART:

At the end, when they exhale and slump into each other/the carriage seat in sync. She looks like she's never felt anything like this in her life (cuz she ain't) and he looks like he's finally HOME. And I'm not talking about his family's estate -- I specifically mean right there in Penelope's bosom, between her legs, her breath, her eyes, her moans for him, like he looks relieved and satisfied AND THEN HE'S LIKE "SO I'M NEVER LETTING THIS GO. DONE DEAL, YOU'RE MY PENELOPE, NOW."

Ugh. I loooove this couple! I HAD TO GET THIS OUT OF MY BODY. Thank you for coming to my TED Talk. Gonna add stills for the moments I mention once Tumblr stops being a bitch.

[z00oo1]

Collin and Penelope Fics Pt 2

Ran out of room on my last list so I'm starting a new one here! I do not own any of these fics these are just recs.

Knock First by Lilyofthevolume

Penelope and Colin are tired of being interrupted by his catty secretary, Marina. What happens when they stop caring about getting caught?

for you are my fate by maxmayfield

After dancing with Penelope at a society ball for the first time, Colin begins to see his friend in a new ligh

I Wanna Be Yours (Polin Prompts) by Lovelymagnolia

just a bunch of polin prompts

The One With Colin's Flemish Kiss by bridgertonbabe

Colin's secret relationship with Penelope is nearly rumbled when he slips up and kisses his girlfriend in front of his sisters-in-law. In order to cover up his blunder he makes a bold impulsive choice to provide Kate and Sophie with a distraction - but it's a choice which his brothers don't take kindly to in the slightest. Friends AU

and it was all yellow by ninjamanda

Canon divergent AU one-shot where Colin and Pen actually "communicate" and talk through their issues on their wedding night!

all the strings attached by penelopecolin (sexymonk)

Penelope struggles to draw boundaries with her new roommate - and when Colin starts behaving peculiarly towards her, she finds herself headed for a downward spiral.

The Honeymoon Period by Rachel_writes_plays

A little story about one specific day between the ending of episode 8 and the events of the epilogue.

blue dress on a boat by missparker

Penelope's efforts to find herself a husband on the marriage mart are going poorly. Benedict Bridgerton needs a wife they strike a deal to marry. Colin comes home from his travels to discover the engagement, he handles it poorly, to say the least.

Broken Glass by Radomizedusername

When a happily married Colin and Penelope briefly move back into the Bridgerton house during the late stages of Penelope's pregnancy, Anthony finds his temper rising. He expected that he would hardly notice their presence back in his home. Little did he realize he would hardly notice anything else.

Six Pomergrante Seeds by jerrymander

Colin's heartbreaking words to Penelope lead her to make different choices just days away from their wedding.

Friends, Foes, and Fernes by Mariequitecontrarie

When Colin and Penelope run into Lord Debling as a couple for the first time, their awkward conversation unearths lingering doubts and insecurities.

Matchmaker by Readingchef45

 how Eloise ensures that Penelope will be her sister from the ages of 9 to 25.

wherever you will go by nojamhands

Penelope's job requires her to finally settle in London, while Colin's asks him to take on one last trek to the Pacific. When Penelope doesn't hear from him for nearly two weeks, she starts to panic, then gets a phone call that changes the course of her life forever

still i can't get enough. by stolemystark17

Anthony is looking for his Viscountess and Penelope made the list. Colin does not care for this development. (But not because he's courting her).He is NOT courting her. He's just looking at her respectfully. As a friend.

The Family Life by alexxou_stories24

One-shots about married/parents Polin (Regency/Modern/Fluff/Smut).

you got me overnight (just let me be close to you) by marriedpolin (bisexualoliviab)

Or, a 5+1 fic about respecting the sanctity of a shared bedchamber.

[wardenparker]

For Protection

Joel Miller x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: E for Explicit Word Count: 16.1k Warnings: Cursing, food, references to unplanned pregnancy, past pregnancy, mentions of lost loved ones/family, some talk about bodily functions (nothing weird, I promise), angst, comfort, so much yearning, flirting, fingering. Joel calling his daughter ‘baby girl’ gets its own warning. Summary: The chance to stop and rest while on the road with Joel, Ellie, and baby Caroline ends up giving you and Joel a chance to talk about some things that have been building up again since you reunited in Lake City. Notes: The third part of the “For” series is here, my loves! We just absolutely love this little found family and were so excited to visit them again. And it happily coincided with a chance to see my fairy goddaughter again, who is the real-life Caroline that I love and adore. Big love and hugs to @becsworld for finding it absolutely silly that I named a character in a story after her baby girl 💗

Also in the series: For Her For Pleasure

“Oh god.” The dramatic gagging tears Joel’s eyes off the road to the rear view mirror. Finding Ellie slapping her hand over her nose and turning green. “I think she shit again.” She groans “Why do babies shit so much?”

He rolls his eyes, nose twitching as the first waft of the pungent aroma of baby shit works its way to the front of the car. The very proof needed that Caroline had indeed shit herself and it was going to be a foul diaper. “Babies shit. They eat, sleep, cry and shit.” He grunts, looking back at the road and for a safe place to pull off for a quick pit stop. It was an opportunity to scout for more gas as well. “That’s all teenagers seem to do too.”

"I won't make you change her diaper this time, El." You chuckle from where you are twisted slightly in the front seat, wiggling your finger in Caroline's mighty grip to make her coo and giggle. Joel had insisted that Ellie learn a few basics of taking care of the baby before the four of you set out on the road together and that included changing diapers. And while she had learned, she certainly hadn't been happy about it.

“God, it’s so gross.” Ellie whines. “I’m rolling down the window.” She huffs, trying to wiggle closer to the window to reach the button but Joel presses the locks.

“No.” He grunts. “We’re stopping.”

There's the fading remnants of a big food mart up ahead. One of the ones that has a gas station in the side parking lot, and you know you'll at least find a counter inside that you can spread Caroline's blanket out on to turn it into a changing station. "Do you think we could go inside?" It doesn't look too decrepit. There might even be some kind of food or supplies left if you dig hard enough.

“Let me check it out first.” Joel won’t deny you the opportunity to try to scavenge for supplies but he has become over cautious with where he lets you go with Caroline in tow.

"We'll stay put and stink up the car while you scout." That draws a groan from Ellie, but you just shake your head and laugh. It had been a miracle to get the car in the first place – trading the house you had renovated and lived in to two families who had pooled their resources to make it a fair trade. Now they have a home, and you have a car with a trunk full of gear and some food.

“Just a quick look.” The car pulls to a stop and Joel throws it in park. Anxious eyes find yours and he pulls the gun out of the holster on his hip to hand to you. “Get behind the wheel.” He reminds you. The same order that has been drilled into your head every time a stop happens and he is out of sight. He pops the trunk to retrieve the rifle, not wanting to stash it in the backseat with the kids.

"I got it," you promise him, climbing over things to get into the driver's seat. There are rules that need to be followed out here and you and Ellie both had promised Joel that what he said was law while you were traveling.

“Good girl.” He grunts, quickly walking back to grab the rifle and checks to make sure that it is properly loaded, even though he had checked it just this morning.

"These places used to be so much fun to come to when I was a kid." Sometimes when it's just you and Ellie, you slip into this odd sort of nostalgia and end up telling her odd things about the past. "My mom would make a whole day out of it. We would come up to the store like this near us in the late morning and eat all the samples they were handing out all over the store for our lunch."

"Samples?" Ellie tilts her head and then her eyes widen when she understands what you are meaning. "They gave away free food!" She exclaims, leaning forward to both escape the noxious fumes and to talk to you. "That's so cool. I bet it was good food too!"

“Sometimes it was. Sometimes it was weird. But that’s why you had to try it and find out.” Even while you’re talking, you keep your eyes on the door where Joel disappeared. The fact that he goes and does these sweeps without Ellie for back up drives you insane, but there’s nothing you can really do about it. Not when he reminds you quietly how important she is and turns those great big brown eyes on you.

“He’ll be okay.” Ellie assures you, her own eyes on the door and tense. It’s better now that you and the baby are with them, she feels safer, but there’s still a whole lot of shit to deal with. “He’s old, but he’s fucking tough.”

“I know he is. That doesn’t stop me from worrying though.” That’s your child’s father in there, and you tell yourself that that is why you care so much.

“I know.” Ellie looks over at Caroline as the first sound of unhappiness starts to wind up from the baby. “Oh shit, he needs to hurry.”

“You know she always calms down.” The first time Ellie had borne witness to a long crying spell she acted like it was the end of the world, which honestly you could understand. It was only the first time. But sweet little Caroline always calms down eventually, and this one makes sense as you reach your hand out to her again to see if you can distract her with finger puppets. “You’d be upset too if you were sitting in your own waste.”

“I know.” Twisting in her seat, Ellie puffs up her cheeks and crosses her eyes. “Hey, hey, it’s okay.” She chants softly, scrunching up her nose when Caroline pauses mid-squawk to stare at her. It might be temporary, but it was a good distraction from waiting for Joel. The kid was cute, when she wasn’t covered in baby shit.

“She really likes you.” Caroline has a sort of fascination with Ellie that you can’t place, which has resulted in some very sweet – if temporary – moments between them. She will look at the older girl with absolute awe sometimes and just start giggling happily, leading the teen to ask once if it was possible the baby was plotting her murder.

“She’s really cool.” Ellie admits, grinning when Caroline reaches for her and squeals happily. Her hand immediately is grabbed by the younger girl and she tugs like all babies do. “For a poop machine.”

You’re laughing softly when Joel appears at the door of the large store again and waves to give you the all clear. “Looks like we’re okay,” you tell Ellie before turning back to make sure Caroline is all set. “Come on, baby girl,” you coo at her, having picked up the nickname from Joel. “Daddy says it’s safe inside, so let’s go get you changed.”

Joel watches as you take the baby out of the car seat he had stolen from an abandoned car and put her in the basket you would carry her in. He had been thinking about trying to find one of those things that strap a kid to your chest. That might be easier and leave everyone with two hands to use. “There’s still some stuff in here.” He assures you. “Doors are still good. Maybe we can camp early tonight.”

“That would be nice.” Four walls to sleep inside of again would definitely be a trade up. You could roll out the sleeping bags and actually stretch out instead of sleeping cramped in the car. “What kind of supplies are still hanging around?”

“Some that I think you’re going to be very happy about.” Joel chuckles as he motions to the box that is on the ground just off to the side. Disposable diapers. He had done a quick sweep of the store, but that aisle had caught his attention. There was also one case of baby wipes left, although they were probably no good.

“Holy shit.” Your appreciative groan is very real. Cloth diapers on the road are not an ideal situation by any means. “I could kiss you for finding those.”

Ellie snorts, smirking. “Kissing got you into this situation.” She reminds you, making Joel roll his eyes.

“Just for that, you change her.” He grumbles at the teenager, trying to ignore the urge to collect on that kiss.

“I’ll change her.” The way Ellie looks so dismayed at being tasked with the job practically has you giggling. “You should watch though, Ellie. So I can show you how these diapers work.”

Joel does chuckle, lifting his brows when Ellie swings a glare towards him and just waits her out as she huffs.

The agreement that all three grown people should know how to take care of the baby’s basic needs has caused no end of huffing and puffing from Ellie, but still she always learns. She’s aces at feeding the little girl, always good for some play time, and likes to tell the baby stories that she’s read in old books or comic books. In another life – the life before this one – she would have made an amazing big sister. Even in this world, she’s a damn good surrogate for that role.

When you pick Caroline up from the basket, Joel takes his rifle off his shoulder and shoves it into Ellie’s hands. “I’ll do it.” He volunteers, having plenty of experience with dirty diapers before the Outbreak. He had raised Sarah by himself, with Tommy lending a hand sometimes.

“Sure.” You have intentionally encouraged them to bond – Joel and his daughter – and now you hand her over without a fuss. She waves her little fists in the air as if cheering to find her daddy in view again, then promptly remembers she has a full diaper and the terrible tremble of her chin starts all over again. It’s wails this time instead of squawks, and you tut in sympathy as Joel carries her over to an empty counter to get her cleaned up.

“It’s okay, baby girl.” He coos softly, chortling at her with a soft smile on his normally serious face. It’s hard not to lower his guard around this baby, his baby. “We’re going to get you cleaned up,” he looks over his shoulder. “Open up the diapers and see if those wipes haven’t dried out, will you?” He asks, concentrating on unwrapping Caroline from her little sleeper and chuckling when she kicks a foot. “I know, I know. We’ll have you changed in no time.”

One of the diapers is pulled free of the package easily and you set it next to him, but frown when you pry open the package of wipes. “These are goners,” you tell him, obvious disappointment lacing your frown. “That would have been too good to be true.”

“That’s alright.” Joel tuts and shakes his head. “I’ll just set up a soaking bucket like we’ve been doing.”

“I’ll do it.” There is a rhythm to things already. Just a couple of weeks together and so far you haven’t wanted to kill each other or yell or disagreed on the way things should be done. It’s given you…thoughts that absolutely won’t go away. Butterflies in your belly, a spike in your heart rate, sweaty palms from nerves that make no sense because what do you have to be nervous about? You’ve literally already had this man’s baby. It doesn’t get more intimate than that. But still you feel like a schoolgirl half the time you look at him.

“Thanks.” He nods and keeps his eye on Caroline as he unpins her diaper, well aware that the squirming baby could work her way off the counter. Or spray him with a geyser of urine. The myth that only boys sprayed like a water hose was well dispelled when he was a young father.

It takes a little coordination, but Caroline gets changed with only a small amount of fuss, and soon she’s a happily babbling little baby again with no concept of the dangers of the world or the fact that you’ll be sleeping in an abandoned box store tonight. “Next time she cries it will be for dinner,” you predict, unable to keep the little smile of your face at the sight of Joel holding your little girl.

“That’s okay. Maybe we can find something to make a carrier for her.” Joel murmurs, enjoying the cuddliness of his daughter for another moment before she has to go back in the basket.

“That would be good.” It would be much easier to carry her, certainly. “Maybe we can go take a closer look around while she’s not being fussy?”

“Yeah.” Holding out his hand for the rifle, Joel sends Ellie a pointed look. “Stay close by.” He knows the girl wants to go scout for her own supplies, but she also has a tendency to find trouble. Joel’s anxiety had more than tripled since leaving your old community, aware of how vulnerable all of you are out here with the baby.

It’s a slow and steady pace, working through this empty store. There are a few things left but they tended to be punctured or broken containers so the items were already spoiled. You’re feeling like this pit stop might be a waste except for the diapers when the group of you come across the stairs that lead up to the store offices. “It’s worth a look,” you suggest to Joel with a shrug, knowing that he would be the one to go up there first. The stairs are fine, but if there’s a clicker or a raider up there, he won’t want either of the kids anywhere near that.

His flashlight shines on the steps before he places his foot, tilting up so he can see in front of him and then back down again. Slowly climbing, he’d rather take his time than alert anything that might be up there. He looks over his shoulder at you when he gets to the top and then adjusts his grip on the handgun he had traded for the rifle. It was better in close quarters like this.

Ellie reaches back, one hand on your shoulder where Caroline is currently resting, as Joel disappears out of sight. For her, with the way she is coming to feel about Joel even unconsciously, it is now her job to make sure you and the baby are safe. The rifle is in her hands and she is the protector, watching over people who need it. It makes her stand up a little taller. Hold her chin a little higher. And you have that thought again about what a wonderful big sister she would have made.

The door is closed, making Joel pause for a moment before reaching for it. Feeling the handle turn easily, the door creaks open and the sight has Joel jumping back, startled.

The dried husk of an infected, separated from its group, is plastered to two of the walls, limbs akimbo and mouth open in the impression of a blood-curdling scream. Whoever had been hiding in here hadn’t been discovered for a very, very long time, and neither had their stash. Once Joel can tear his eyes off of the figure in front of him, his light sweeps the room and falls upon stacks and stacks of cans, bottles, and boxes. A small mountain of supplies has been sitting untouched just waiting for no one — until now.

Grimacing, Joel steps towards the body and checks with the barrel of the gun just to make sure that nothing moves or sprouts. When nothing does, he’s satisfied and steps back outside the door. “There’s a stash up here.” He tells you. “And a body. It’s dried out.”

That has Ellie on the move instantly, and you carefully climb the steps behind her with Caroline valiantly fighting sleep on your shoulder. This was definitely an office – there’s a desk and faded bullshit corporate motivational posters peeling off the walls to prove it – and whoever had been here had obviously intended to stay. “Holy shit is that bottled water?” You gasp, finding your eyes drawn to the bottom of the pyramid of packages.

“It is.” Joel chuckles and shakes his head. “It was a good idea. Staking out a store and keeping a large portion of the supplies for themselves.”

“It would have been a good idea,” Ellie snorts, barely inches away from the body on the wall. “If they hadn’t gotten themselves fungi-fied.”

Joel rolls his eyes, but his lips curve up in a quick smirk. “Let’s see what they have stored up here and hopefully have ourselves a good meal tonight.” The idea of carrying everything downstairs makes him groan, but more supplies are more supplies.

Boxes of beans, lentils, and rice come down the stairs. Jars of popcorn and bottles of soy sauce and honey. Salt, sugar, vinegar, even bottles of real maple syrup. There is powdered milk and even bottles of wine along with the water. Hand sanitizer and cleaning products. More than they could possibly fit into the car. When it’s all piled up in front of you, you almost can’t even laugh in amazement. “That guy really was just going to live his whole life in that office if he could.”

“Looks like.” Joel snorts and shakes his head. “Too bad he didn’t stock up on tampons.”

Ellie has clearly already thought of that and makes a grumbling sound, but you nudge her with your elbow. “You should find this place’s bathroom,” you suggest to the teen. “See if maybe the coin op machines or supply cabinets still have anything in them. Sometimes public bathrooms had little vending machines for tampons or pads.” They usually weren’t the best quality, but something is always better than nothing.

“Heyoooo.” Ellie smirks and nods. “I’m on it.” She grabs her bag, making sure her gun is in it and darts off into the darkness.

******

“We’re not going to be able to take all this with us.” The stash is honestly pretty impressive, and you stand next to the old Customer Service Counter where everything is piled with one hand on Caroline in her basket as she naps. “We should pick out the stuff that will be the best to use on the road and use some of the other stuff while we’re in one place.” Talking business - being practical - it helps you focus. There’s less time to get lost in Joel’s endless brown eyes if you’re planning three steps ahead.

“Diapers come with us.” Joel huffs. “And all the powdered milk. Maybe–” he scratches his chin. “Do you think they have bottles here? At least one or two? Or those sippy cups?”

“I can take a closer look at the non-perishable aisles.” On the road it’s a lot harder to feed Caroline anything besides the obvious times you breastfeed, and the milk will be invaluable. “It doesn’t look like anyone’s been in here in a long time so I don’t think we should have trouble tonight.”

“No, we shouldn’t.” Joel nods. “Why don’t I go check for gas?” He asks. “I can take the baby with me.”

“If you’re sure.” You never say no to him wanting to spend time with Caroline, and you keep your deeply felt competency kink to a damn minimum with just a smile. Joel doing chores and being a dad only reinforces what you’ve had to admit to yourself over these last few weeks – that you did, in fact, fall in love with him that night a year and a half ago. And that it may have faded a little, but it came screaming back the second he reappeared in your life.

“Course I’m sure.” He sends you a small wink and puts the gun back in the holster so he can take the basket. “Go do some shoppin’, I’ve got our baby girl, honey.” If it weren’t for the fact that there hasn’t been power, or employees, in this store he could have passed for any husband encouraging his wife to have a break from the baby.

The fucking mess of a cliché you become when he does something so normal and so sweet is why you’re rooted to the spot gazing longingly at the door when Ellie comes back from exploring the bathrooms with her backpack stuffed fuller than it was before. “Found a lot of tampons and pads.” She crows happily, tossing her bag down with slight relief. It’s a pain to bleed through shit when there’s nothing to put in her panties but ripped up clothes. “Whatcha doin’?”

“Oh—um—Joel took Caroline to go scout for gas.” You snap back to reality from your little floating fantasy of being a normal family in normal times and offer Ellie a smile. “I’m gonna go look for bottles or sippy cups or whatever else we can find. You wanna come?”

“Sure.” She shrugs slightly and then grins at you. “So were you daydreaming about baby daddy?” She coos teasingly. Even if she doesn’t understand what you see in Joel – he’s a man, ewww – she recognizes the looks you sometimes get when you think no one is paying attention.

Joel and Ellie might have a weird, sarcastic, father-daughter thing going on without either of them admitting it, but your own relationship with Ellie is a lot easier. You’re fairly comfortable together. Laugh together. And occasionally tease each other about girly shit to boot. “What if I was?” You ask her, side-eyeing the teen as you head for the baby supply aisle. “You gonna tell on me?”

“Might.” She jokes, knocking into your shoulder playfully. “Nahhhh, I’m not a snitch.” She laughs at her own comment and points her flashlight around. “Do you— do you regret it?” She asks after a moment. “Having her and not knowing if you would ever see him again? I mean, I know you did see him again, but….before?”

“No.” It’s a surprisingly easy answer for you, considering everything that raising a child in this new world entails, but you shake your head. “I was upset a lot when I was pregnant. Blaming him…or missing him and pretending it was blame. But the second she was born I knew that what he’d actually given me was a gift. Not something to hold a grudge over or regret.”

For a teenager, Ellie is surprisingly introspective. “It’s like you got to keep a piece of a single good moment?” She asks. “That’s something that’s rare.”

“That’s exactly it.” Knocking Ellie’s shoulder in turn gets her to smile again. “She’s my little reminder to remember the good times when things are hard.”

“Yeah.” She never met her mother, never even knew her name, and she frowns. Thinking about what Marlene had told her during those precious few hours before she was handed off to Joel. “She’s cool. And funny when she makes herself laugh.”

“And you’ve been a huge help in taking care of her.” It may not be her favorite thing, but she does a good job at it and it shows in her pride. “Didn’t think you’d ever get to be a big sister, did you?”

“Nahhh.” She shakes her head. “They kept the little kids separate from us in the FEDRA school.”

“And now look at you. An old pro after just a couple of weeks.” The demand for baby supplies when this store was last looted seems to have been small, thank god, and there are even some packages with old school basic baby toys like teething keys and some packs of things like toddler socks and baby bibs - things you never thought you would find anywhere. There is a whole one sippy cup remaining intact on the shelf and you could practically cheer over it.

“That’s a cool little cup.” Ellie takes the package from you and examines it. “So she doesn’t spill anything, right?”

“Exactly.” You nod, checking the shelves over for anything you might have missed. “All that powdered milk that Joel found in the office is going to be great for her.”

“That’s cool.” Food for Caroline is important, even Ellie can understand that. “I can’t remember the last time I had milk.”

“Do you want to have a sip the next time I make some up for the baby?” It won’t be the same, obviously, but you’re with Ellie. You can’t remember the last time you had a glass of cold milk. It sounds like the most amazing thing in the world right now.

“No, no, you save that for her.” Ellie knows how precious that can be and how much Caroline will rely on it. “I’m good. Hey–” she grins at you. “You can use that bottled water to make up the milk for her.”

“Yes we can.” And you cannot say what a relief it is that you won’t have to figure out how to get water and boil it clean before being able to make milk. “Between me and the boxes of powder, we should be able to keep her fed and happy until we get to Jackson.” Of course her diet is lacking, but it’s not like you could cook her fresh applesauce on the road or have access to bananas or puréed baby food of any kind. As soon as you get settled again, you’re restarting your garden with all the seeds and saplings you packed before you left Lake City.

“You know…” She frowns as she thinks about the foods that she had carried down. “I think there are some freeze dried fruits in those boxes.” She tells you. “Could you rehydrate them and feed them to her?”

If there are, we can absolutely do that.” The idea that the stash Joel found is actually a goldmine is a little overwhelming. You knew things would be hard on the road but you don’t want your baby girl to have to suffer for it.

“Cool.” She flashes you a proud grin. “I’ll look for them when we get back over to the pile.” She wants to help and contribute. Looking back at the shelves, she shrugs. “Anything else she might need? I have room in my pack.”

After a moment you almost climb the shelf, seeing something up a little too high for you to grab that might be the biggest find of them all. “If I boost you up, can you grab that box?” You ask Ellie, pointing to the corner of the green and white cardboard just out of reach. Joel would be able to get it with no problem, but he’s outside.

“No problem.” She scoffs at you and hands you the sippy cup back so she can scramble up the shelving with only a curse or two.

She’s a scrappy kid, and in under a minute she’s back down to you with a prize so precious you could cry. “Ellie,” you gasp when she hands it over. “You have no idea how great this is!”

“A breast pump?” She’s bewildered when she reads the box and just looks at you like you’ve grown a second head. “What’s so great about that?”

“You know how sometimes your boobs hurt when you’re on your period? Or they just feel a little swollen or sensitive?” The teen nods and you blow out a sigh. “Being able to breastfeed Caroline is fantastic, but it means I always feel full and sore. This way, I can pump some of the milk and put it in water bottles after we empty them. I just have to figure out how to keep it from spoiling.” If that’s at all possible. It’s not like you have a cooler full of ice in the trunk. “And the bottle means that either you or Joel can feed the baby now.”

“That would be cool!” She nods, grinning at the idea. Babies aren’t too bad, especially one that is as cute as Caroline.

“Let’s head back to the front of the store and see if you were right about that fruit.” With your hands full of baby things you are bordering on feeling normal all over again and it’s so soothing. New things for Caroline are rare, and chances to see Joel feeding her might be playing into that domestic fantasy you entertain right before falling asleep at night…and sometimes during the day.

******

Outside, Joel sucks on the hose until the gas hits his tongue and he quickly shoves the hose in the can. Spitting and coughing as Caroline gurgles and squeals in the basket beside him. “So that’s funny, huh baby girl?” He demands roughly, coughing slightly still but he can’t help but grin at her spit bubbling coo. “Fuck, I can’t believe how sweet you are.”

Caroline burbles, waving her hands like she’s at a rock concert and clapping every so often. She’s gotten the hang of single syllables like mah and guh so far and they’re peppered in her little sounds, making Joel chuckle again. “Tell me about it.” He hums, watching the level on the gas can rise. There’s another one nearby and it seems like this place is literally a gold mine for supplies. Which makes Joel sigh in relief.

“Da.” The giggling little mass of limbs and blankets proclaims, putting her hands out straight before wriggling with joy again.

Joel’s heart stops, or maybe it starts. Another layer of the icy protection he had built up around it cracking and falling away with a gasp and nearly physical pain. “Yeah? Da da! That’s me, baby girl.” He swaps the cans over quickly and bundles her up into his arms. “Da!” He prompts.

“Da!” She squeals again, apparently delighted to have gotten her message through to him. She swings both little fists down onto his shoulder with as much force as a seven-month-old can muster. “Da!”

“Oh my godddd.” Joel chokes out, tears springing to his eyes as he holds her close. Remembering Sarah’s first time saying Da and feeling so overwhelmed that he is experiencing it again, already in love with his new daughter. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.” He rasps. “I promise.”

"Joel?" Leaving Ellie with the stash inside, you had slipped out the front door of the store again to check on him and see if he'd been able to find any gas. Instead you see him sitting with his back to the Volvo with Caroline cradled to his chest and tears streaking down his cheeks. "Oh my god." Instantly you're at his side, only not fully panicking because Caroline is babbling happily at his shoulder. "Is everything okay? What happened?"

“Hey– no, it’s– it’s good.” He shakes his head as you rush over, checking her. He doesn’t blame you, he would do the same. “She– she said Da.” He explains. “And I–” shrugging helplessly, he looks at you as if you should know how he is feeling.

"Oh..." Suddenly you're biting your lip and holding back your own tears as you look at the two of them together. Gently brushing the whisper soft hair on Caroline's head away from her eyes, you end up leaning in to press a kiss to her forehead and sigh. "Sometimes I can't wait until she's old enough to be talking to us and being her own little self, and then other times I can't believe how fast she's already growing."

“I— I can’t believe it.” He reaches out with the hand that isn’t holding Caroline to him. “I never– after Sarah, I never thought I would– I would have this again.” The words come out soft, broken. “And yet– she’s here.”

When he reaches for you you're helpless but to take the invitation, curling against his side so that the three of you are a little pile of cuddles on the ground beside the car. "Thank you for her." Your voice is just as quiet as his is, hushed in the intimacy of the moment. "She's the best thing that ever happened to me."

“It was distinctly my pleasure.” He jokes quietly, chuckling. “I— will keep both of you safe.” He promises again. “On my life.”

"You're not tied to us, Joel. You know that." The deal has been fairly clean cut. Once you get to Jackson, you're going to find your family and set up house again in the new community, so that Caroline can be raised safely if safety is at all possible. What Joel needs to do or not do with Ellie is his own business, and you've never had the guts to ask him what he planned on doing after that was over. Whether or not he would want to come back to make a life with his daughter. With you. "It's always up to you what you want to do."

He frowns and shakes his head. “I am tied to you.” He insists. “This is my daughter and you….” He breaks off. “You…are…important.” He has a fucking hard time admitting his emotions but his eyes are soft and pleading with you to understand. More expressive than his face could ever be.

"You're important to me, too." That is the very least of it, but it's the most you can manage without grappling a whole lot with emotions that you have barely sorted through. "And I'm not saying that I don't want you to be with us." It is, honestly, the biggest thing that you do want. But you know that you're talking about something big and you have absolutely no reason to believe that he's there yet. Or if he ever would be at all. "But I don't want you to feel forced. That's all I'm saying."

“I’m not feeling forced.” If you only understood how often he stays awake all night, watching over you and Caroline. It was bad enough when it was just Ellie, but now… he runs off the pure need to protect all of you.

"Good." You gently tighten your hand around his and nudge closer to him. "Because we're your family. And I've seen enough bullshit families in my life to know that when those people force you into staying around, you end up resenting them." The people you're going out west to find are the best of your biological family, in your opinion. The ones who never forced and always supported. The ones you want to be like now.

Family. He had told Ellie that you keep going for family and that’s what he’s doing. “I could never resent you or Caroline.”

"Ellie asked me if I regretted it." It comes tumbling out of your mouth faster than you can stop yourself, and you end up hiding your face from him so he can't see that feeling in your eyes. "But I don't. I can't. Not when that night gave us her."

“I don’t regret it either.” Joel hums, smirking and rolling his eyes. “But I also didn’t grow her for months and have to push her out of my body.” He regrets not being there, no knowing even if there was no way he could have known. He had thought about taking you back to Boston if you hadn’t adamantly said you were going west. “If it had happened before the Outbreak….” He shrugs. “Who knows what we would have done. Don’t think sleeping in a car counts as livin’ together.”

"If this was before the Outbreak, my father would have had you proposing at gunpoint." The visual makes you shake your head, laughing ruefully as you remember insisting that Joel put down his gun while you both stripped to prove you weren't infected the night you met.

“There are worse ways to end up married.” He chuckles and rubs Caroline’s back. “We should get set up for the night. We can load all the supplies up in the morning. Even make a fire in the building once we get it locked down.” He smirks. “I think there were some mattresses we could lay out.”

"A mattress." You groan happily and push yourself back to your feet before taking Caroline from him so that he can stand as well. After sleeping in a car, even a mattress on concrete sounds amazing. "Did you find enough gas?"

“Two cans worth.” Joel nods. “And there might be more, but I got distracted.”

"She's a cute little distraction." Cute, and grasping at your earlobes like they're pull toys. "Come on, baby girl. Let's let Da finish up and I'll feed you dinner?" Shooting Joel an excited grin, you shift the baby up on your arms. "You'll never believe what Ellie and I found. An untouched breast pump."

“Really?” He arches a brow in surprise. “That’s amazing, although I’ll miss watching you feed her.” He hums. You had allowed him to watch, especially at night, and it was still breathtakingly gorgeous. Even if the surroundings are crumbling and moldering, you with his daughter at your breast looks like Madonna and Child to him.

"You'll just have to be horny while I pump instead," you tease, knowing that that was not at all the primary reason for letting Joel in on the intimacy of Caroline's feedings. But still, you're in a good enough mood to tease him about it.

He grunts, not willing to voice the small feeling of guilt at how accurate that will be. It’s been a long goddamn time and he hasn’t tried to make any overtures towards you. “I’ll keep it in my pants.” He promises, smirking slightly.

"That would be a first for us." He hands you the baby's basket and you toss him a wink like he had given you earlier. "I'm gonna go back inside. You coming with me or are you gonna work on getting more gas before you lose the light?" He can always go back to it in the morning, but you know that Joel sometimes overprepares with good reason.

“Have the kid make a fire and I’ll bring in the sleeping bags as soon as I’m done.” He decides. “We’ll block the door and then sleep peacefully.”

"Sounds like a plan." Peaceful sleep hasn't happened since leaving Lake City, so that part of the plan sounds absolutely amazing.

Once he’s watched you walk with Caroline back into the store, Joel gets back to work. There are three other cars to check and he wants to strap as many cans of gas to the trunk as he can.

******

By the time he comes back inside things are looking more organized and Ellie has a fire going inside of a stone lawn decor oddity and you have some supplies laid out to put together a dinner for the three of you. There was a working kitchen in this store at one point – they must have sold pre-prepared foods – and you managed to find a decently sized saucepan and big metal spoon to essentially just have a functional stew pot. These are definitely things that can come with you to cook over an open fire on the road.

The doors shut behind him, Joel starts to push the large shelves that were nearby in front of them. To keep prying eyes out as well as to provide a barrier against anyone who might come during the night. He had hidden the gas and made the car look like it was one of the others in the parking lot.

"Beans and rice for dinner." You inform him from across the front of the store. Ellie had jumped up to help him with the shelves but Joel's seemingly inhuman strength got the job done before she could get to him. "I wonder if that popcorn still has any pep in it. Ellie says she's never had it before."

“Wouldn’t doubt that.” Joel hums. “I know I saw some hot sauce in the supplies but were there Tums?” He asks, lifting a brow. Getting older sucks and he knows he doesn’t want to stay up all night with heartburn.

"In my backpack." There wasn't a huge amount to be had, but what there is is precious. Heartburn had been the bane of your existence during pregnancy. "Hot sauce makes everything better."

“Everything.” He chuckles. “Especially when it’s Ellie’s turn to warm up food.” He smirks when the teenager stops poking the fire to glare at him.

Caroline seems to protest on Ellie's behalf and you chuckle, looking over at her basket to see her pouting at you heavily in that way that implies crying is imminent. "Uh oh," you hum, reaching for the baby. "I think it's dinner time for this one before it is for us." Typically you just cover yourself when you need to feed her, not wanting to make Ellie uncomfortable or even incur that conversation. This time you push up onto your feet and coo at your baby before offering the other two a smile. "I'm going to take a little stroll around the store while she eats. Pretend it's just a normal ass shopping trip."

“I’ll cook.” Joel nods, handing you the flashlight and leaning down to kiss the baby before he moves away reluctantly. He would walk with you if he could but everyone needs to eat and tonight will be a hearty meal.

"I can do it." Ellie insists, looking between the two of you like she's sure there's some kind of adult code going on that she doesn't quite understand. "It's just making sure it doesn't boil over, right? That's easy as fuck."

He’s doubtful but as he stares at her long enough for her to roll her eyes and sigh like all dramatic teens do. “Come on, man.” She huffs and he rolls his own eyes.

“Fine, but if you burn it, you eat it all.” He warns her.

The soft smile you aim at Ellie when Joel’s back is turned is for her eyes only, and you nod a small thanks to her before stepping away. She understands on a basic level, even if she doesn’t get why you feel so strongly about Joel, and you have to wonder if she’s had someone special to her already. Or worse, if she had lost them.

He tells himself that it’s just to make a final check of the building. Make sure there’s nothing he’s missed. Or hold the flashlight he’s already taken back and is holding steady as the two of you start to walk. “Feels like we should have a shopping cart.” Joel jokes, filling the silence as Caroline suckles hungrily.

“Just a little Sunday shopping trip for the family.” The slow and steady stroll is positively intimate, even though you don’t reach for his hand or anything like that. You’re focused on not jostling Caroline too much, even though she likes when you move around during meal time. “This place is huge, it’s nice for a walk.”

“It is.” Joel nods and imagines what that might look like before the outbreak. “When Sarah was younger, didn’t have much money. So it was about buying the most I could with what I had. Sunday was about my only day off.”

“What did you do?” You ask, realizing that because careers don’t much matter anymore, you don’t actually know what he used to do for work.

“Contractor.” Joel shakes his head. “By the end, I had my own business. Building a house that same damn day everything came crashing down. Never finished it.” Ironic that he’s nostalgic over a house he had been cursing all that day. Maybe because if he had finished it, it would have meant the world wouldn’t have fucking burned and Sarah would have been right beside him still. Or married and made him the grandpa Ellie keeps teasing him that he is.

“I was right to figure you for a hands on kind of guy.” Thoughts of him while you were apart had gone all kinds of ways, but the image of Joel as someone who worked hard and built things himself was always your favorite. He had been meticulous in the way you were together and you couldn’t see him being anything else in his work.

He chuckles and looks over at you with a sideways grin. “Have that look, huh?” He teases, knowing that he looks his age, and god knows he feels it.

“For a long time, my only memories of you were very hands-on,” you remind him with a smirk.

“Apparently I did a very thorough job.” He huffs with an ironic smile, reaching over to caress Caroline’s head as she eats. “The greedy little trophy is right here.”

A rueful laugh escapes your lips as you shake your head, smiling down at her regardless. “My nipples will never be the same.”

“They were nice nipples from my recollection.” Joel hums, thinking about that one night you had together.

“You seemed to be a fan.” When you laugh it’s more of a huff, and you peak down at Caroline again to see she’s starting to slow down. “Now they have a big stamp on them that says ‘Property of Miss Caroline Miller’, don’t they, baby?”

“What can I say? Imma guy.” He jokes, shrugging his shoulders. “I think it’s ingrained in our DNA.”

“Oh believe me, I’m not upset about it in the least.” Looking up at him beside you, you nearly sigh – that dreamy feeling in your chest coming back full force. “Not at all.”

He catches the look, his own heart clenching and flexing under the force of it. Knowing that this is his – to keep and protect – and it is something that scares him down to his very marrow. You, the baby, Ellie, all of you counting on him. Caroline gurgles, pulling your nipple out of her mouth and Joel immediately stops, setting the flashlight down and reaching for her. “I’ll hold her. Burp her.”

“Here.” The cloth you had on your shoulder is just a length of ripped sheet from your old house, but when it’s folded up it makes a decent burping cloth and you put it on Joel’s shoulder instead so you can rearrange your clothes once he takes the baby. It’s perfunctory, but these are the moments of intimacy that you have with him now. All revolving around your daughter.

“Thanks honey.” Joel smiles as he hoists his daughter up onto his shoulder. “She likes to soak me. I think she’s getting me back for not helping you when you were carryin’ her or pushin’ her out.”

“You know I don’t begrudge you for that,” you tell him quietly, picking up the flashlight after you straighten yourself out. “It’s not something you have to beat yourself up for, Joel. You didn’t know.”

“I wish I was there.” He pats Caroline’s back with a steady, firm hand and rubs it every third pat. He had used the same pattern with Sarah when she was a baby. “I woulda been there for everything.”

“If I had known how to tell you, I would have.” Short of traveling to Boston and probably being shot for walking up to the gates, there was nothing you could have done. It’s not like there is a mail service anymore. “I’m just…I’m glad you’re here now. That you get to be with her.”

“Me too, honey.” Joel continues to burp the baby until there is a loud belch that comes bursting out and he chuckles. “She’s gassy tonight.”

“Always an elegant little princess.” You laugh right along with him, obviously not meaning a word of it.

“We all will be after the beans and rice.” He jokes, winking at you and transferring her in the cradle of his arms so she can look up at him sleepily.

“And then we’ll all be instantly sleepy, just like that.” It isn’t the same as it used to be. A full belly doesn’t automatically mean relaxation and security. But a full belly is also rare enough that you’re looking forward to what you once would have considered a sparse meal. “At least we won’t be hotboxing the car tonight,” you observe with a laugh.

“Thank god.” Joel rolls his eyes. “Ellie is the worst, I swear to Christ, that kid could lay out an elephant.”

“Whoever said teenage girls were delicate must never have spent any time around actual teenage girls.” The two of you start walking again, lulling the baby into contentment in Joel’s arms as you go. “So…we should be out of Illinois tomorrow morning. We’re making good time.”

“Maybe we can stay another day?” Joel poses, looking over at you to see what you think. “It was late when we got here. Tomorrow we can reassess and see what all we can squeeze into the car.” It’s also another day with solid four walls around you and the girls, and enough food to fill your bellies to bursting. “Wash clothes, rest.”

“Sounds positively domestic.” And like a dearly needed rest, so you nod. “Another day here will give us good rest and then we can make a push on the road the day after. Getting to Jackson will just seem like a family road trip.”

He has his doubts that it will be that easy, but he nods. “Maybe we’ll actually all get a good night's sleep.”

“We’ll sleep and snack on popcorn and pack up the car. Ellie can tell us terrible jokes and the baby can stretch her legs with plenty of space to crawl. It…actually it sounds like exactly what we need.” And if you maybe take some time tomorrow to sneak away to read, that will be entirely while Caroline is napping. Joel still doesn’t know that you stole the copy of Lady Chatterly’s Lover that directly led to your affair, but it’s in the bottom of your backpack and reading it is now a lot more sentimental than arousing.

“I’ll get those mattresses set up when we get back.” He had brought the sleeping bags in and wishes that there was a playpen in the store for Caroline. “What do you think about us sharing?” He ventures. “Putting the baby between us rather than in the basket.”

“You asking to sleep with me, Joel Miller?” It’s playful. Teasing. Because there’s honestly nothing more that you want in the world – that is attainable at least – than to sleep next to this man again.

“This time is slightly different than the last time.” He retorts, just as playfully. “But yes. Always yes.”

“The answer is also always yes.” You admit quietly, looking down at your hands so he doesn’t see anything too deep or hopeful in your eyes.

The silence between you draws out, purposeful and full of silent, unspoken words. Words that Joel isn’t the best at. “Don’t know how you could be even more beautiful today than in my memory.” Joel speaks after a moment. “But you are.”

Fully stopped on one end of the store, you soften completely under that kind of praise and swallow down the words you want to say immediately. Joel isn’t the kind of guy you just dump that on, no matter what the circumstance. “Probably has more to do with the whole giving birth to your child thing.” You joke weakly, though your heart has started beating double time.

“Not really.” Joel shrugs, wondering if you weren’t happy with the compliment. He knows he’s bad with women. He only had to look at his relationship with Sarah’s mom and Tess.

“No?” That could be taken a lot of different ways, but you’re trying not to get your hopes up. Or to take it badly, since he had just called you beautiful.

“Nahhh.” He looks down at the life that you created together and smiles. “She looks just like you.” He compliments. “Thank god. Because you are– I’m surprised you didn’t have men sniffing around you, wantin’ to get close to you.”

“I had been living with all women,” you remind him, flustering under his gaze. “It just so happened that the first guy I stumbled across in the wilds happened to be the sexiest guy I’ve ever met in my life.”

“Yeah but even pregnant, I’m sure you had men wanting to be the one to help you.” He knows he would have been fiercely protective over you if he had been around.

He isn’t wrong, necessarily. Your pregnancy had attracted plenty of men who wanted to feel important or masculine. Or who thought you might be just that easy. Of course, it had also pushed away just as many potential partners. But it didn’t matter. You hadn’t been looking for one in the first place. “They weren’t you,” you murmur, barely able to look him in the face.

“I’m not–” Joel shakes his head and hates telling you this. But he’s never shied away from what he is. “I’m not a good man, honey.” He admits quietly, looking down at the innocent face of his daughter. “Things I’ve done…you’d hate me for.”

"You've survived." No one in this world is actually good anymore. It's not how things operate anymore. Goodness gets you infected or killed or taken advantage of. The fact that you had trusted Joel a year and a half ago had gotten you knocked up – and to some people that might have been horrible, or they might have thought he did it on purpose, as insane an accusation as that would be considering he did actually pull out. But goodness like it used to be? It can get you killed. "I don't expect anything from you, you know that." You shake your head sadly. "But I know you wouldn't hurt me, and you wouldn't hurt Caroline. Hell, look what you're doing for Ellie. I just—" It's so much to wrap your head around, and you shove your free hand in your pocket, letting the other shift on the flashlight nervously. "I can't help the way I feel, Joel."

“I don’t want to disappoint you.” He admits, to you and to himself. He had disappointed Tess, not even able to say anything at the end. Too closed off, too far into his own misery to admit that he had loved her. He had, in his way. But it was different from the way he loves you, loves Caroline. Even Ellie, although he hadn’t quite admitted that to himself.

“You can’t disappoint me if I have no expectations.” The reminder isn’t meant to be cruel, just realistic. You’ve never asked him for anything, he’s always been willing to give himself to you in whatever way he’s been capable of. Whatever that means to him that he isn’t able to voice, you’ll take it. “One day I might ask you for something, but not yet.” He’s promised to protect you and your daughter. To take care of you and to bring you safely to where you think your family is in Jackson. He promised those things without being asked and you accepted. Which is a very different arrangement. “What I’m never going to do is ask you to feel the same way about me that I do about you. That’s…that’s just unfair. And I don’t want to be unfair to you.”

“Maybe you should.” Joel frowns, looking off into the darkness of the aisle and sighs. “It’s – maybe you should ask me to feel how you feel.”

“No.” He’s still holding Caroline, the little angel having completely drifted off in her daddy’s arms, and you swear you wish you could take her back just so you would have something to do with your hands other than fidget. “Because then I’ll spend the rest of my life – or however long we’re together – wondering if you told me you love me because you actually do or because I asked you to. And that isn’t fair to either of us.”

He closes his eyes, having some idea that you might say that word. He wishes he could open his mouth and say that he does. He would kill for you, he would die for you. He will break his back to make sure you are happy and healthy and he wants to see you smile. To light up when you have a moment where the weariness of the world doesn’t weigh you down. “Okay.” He opens his eyes again and stops you, wanting to look into your eyes. “Then don’t ask me.” He murmurs softly. “Just remember that I’m a hands on kind of guy.”

“And I’m a words type of girl.” It weighs on you more than you expected, to know that your ways of communicating are so different, but it isn’t the end of the world. You never expected to have him in your life at all and now he’s here, so that is still more than you thought you would get from the man who gave you your miracle. “So…now I’ve said it. And I’ll probably say it again. But you never have to. That’s just…it’s better that way.”

Joel reaches out with the hand that isn’t holding Caroline to caress your cheek. Watching as your eyes flutter and he wonders where the man who had seduced you had gone. Not sure what had come over him that one night and wishing he could bring that man back. To give you what you so obviously want right now. Instead he leans in, hunching over so he doesn’t smoosh the baby between you and kisses your forehead.

“Dinner is probably ready.” It isn’t. You know it isn’t and he knows it isn’t, but if you keep standing here you’ll either outright kiss him or maybe cry, and both would be a mistake. This thing with Joel, whatever it is, it’s too big to fuck up by being impulsive. It’s your little girl’s family. It’s her whole future. And all you can hope is that it keeps building, which is why you refuse to chase him away by moving too fast. Fucking laughable considering how you got started, but here you are.

“Gotta make sure she doesn’t burn it.” Joel takes the hint and he turns to start walking back towards the front. “Get little miss sleepy back in her basket for now. Until we are ready for bed.”

“Right. Bed.” It had slipped your mind already that he asked to share a mattress with you, and now you feel even more foolish.

He wonders if you are regretting offering to share the mattress with him. Quietly and slightly bouncing a sleeping Caroline, he is slightly relieved to see that Ellie hadn’t set the area on fire as she comes back into view.

“How’s everything going over here?” Shifting focus entirely, you immediately move to where the baby basket is sitting to uncrumple the blankets so you can tuck Caroline into it.

“It’s, uh, it’s going good.” Ellie assures you, stirring the pot furiously and barely looking up.

“El,” you catch the girl’s attention with a hand on her shoulder and an amused smile. “Let me take over, honey. Maybe you can help Joel bring some mattresses over? We’re thinking of staying here an extra day to rest so comfortable places to sleep are going to be good.”

“We get to stay an extra day?” Ellie’s brows shoot up and she grins. “Cool. I’m going to sleep like a baby.”

“You’re going to cry in the middle of the night to demand cuddles?” You tease, knowing full well that that phrase is not a realistic one.

Ellie shakes her head. “Ewww no.” She huffs. “Joel will grumble and tell me to go back to sleep.”

He huffs like she isn’t completely correct but you just smother a laugh. “By the time you grab those mattresses, this might be ready to go. I’ll stay here and be Mama Bear.”

“Come on brat.” He rolls his eyes but he’s glad to have a moment alone with her. Wanting to check in and make sure she’s okay. It’s been a change to have you and Caroline along and he’s been mindful of that.

“Mattress!” Ellie groans out the word like it’s a victory, which it really is. Sleeping in the car isn’t as hard on her as it is for you or Joel but it’s still not great most of the time.

“We’ll getcha a good one.” Joel grunts as the two of them walk. “You find everything you need here?” He asks, wanting to make sure he shouldn’t hunt for anything in particular.

“Bathroom had the good stuff.” Ellie pronounces proudly, considering it her own personal stash. There’s plenty to share with you, but you don’t need them as often as she does and Joel definitely doesn’t want to hear about that. “And Mom’s gonna make popcorn while we’re here. Big day for Ellie.”

“Mom, huh?” Joel chuckles, actually enjoying the fact that Ellie has a maternal figure. Her language has softened slightly around Caroline. “Too bad we don’t have any butter. Used to coat popcorn in that shit. The more the better.”

“She said it was okay because there was salt in the stash.” Without ever actually having butter, Ellie has no reference for what she’s missing out on and just shrugs. “Whatever. Food is food. Even better if it’s good food.”

“Best popcorn was from the movie theaters.” Joel hums. “Too much popcorn, a huge Coke, a pretty girl. Perfect date.” He side eyes the girl to get her reaction.

Biting her lip, Ellie tries to banish the thoughts of Riley that immediately bubble to the surface and shrugs again, this time to shake off the shadows. So naturally, she puts the focus on embarrassing Joel. “You got two out of the three. Should I disappear for a while so you can make Caroline a big sister?”

“No.” Joel huffs, flushing in the darkness since he’s being called out. “Just goes to show you no matter how careful you are, sex isn’t fool proof.”

“It is if there’s no dicks involved,” she grumbles under her breath, nearly leaping forward to grab at the large mattresses leaning against the wall. They’re far bigger than anything she ever slept on and thicker too, convincing her again what an amazing night’s sleep she’s going to have.

“Two should do it.” Joel grabs the large mattress and grunts at the weight. He’s getting older and shit like this reminds him of that. “Feel good on my fucking back.”

“She doesn’t get to be comfortable?” The eyebrow Ellie raises at him is completely judgmental. “We need three.”

“We’re gonna put the baby between us.” Joel grunts at her, shaking his head. “That way she doesn’t roll off.”

“Oh.” Shouldering the weight of her own large mattress, Ellie side eyes Joel for a second before frowning. “So you guys are okay? It seemed pretty fuckin tense when you came back.”

“It’s alright.” Before Lake City, he would have just ignored her. Just sparing her an annoyed glance that would speak volumes. “Just– adult stuff.”

“Eww.” She has no desire to hear about their sex life. None at all. “‘Nuff said.”

“Not that.” He grunts, uncomfortable about the fact that Ellie assumes he’s sleeping with you. “That hasn’t happened.”

"You don't like her anymore?" Unendingly curious, Ellie finds the questions popping out before she can filter it. It's obvious how you feel about him, even if she doesn't quite get it, you're not very good at masking it.

Joel stops suddenly, making Ellie run forward into the mattress. “What?” He frowns. “No– I– it’s not–” he shakes his head, unable to really discern what to say so he just doesn’t and starts walking again.

"Alright, I didn't mean to make you short circuit, damn." She shakes her head in an unconscious echo of him. "It's your business, I guess. But I am here for everything."

“What would you know about it?” He hisses, annoyed that he doesn’t have a better answer.

"I'm not blind or a moron, Joel," Ellie hits back, never liking when he gets combative with her for just trying to talk. "I know she's completely fucking in love with you for some dumb ass reason."

“Yeah, well, she shouldn’t be.” He tosses back, striking on the issue that bothers him so badly. You had one night with him. One night where he wasn’t really acting like himself, rather he was more like pre-outbreak Joel. Like you were a woman in a bar that he had decided he wanted to try his luck with. Not the miserable piece of shit he is right now.

"I don't think you get to decide that for her, jackass." She huffs, annoyed on your behalf. She sure as fuck hadn't been able to choose who she fell for. It's not like being gay is easy, even if the world has supposedly changed. She's still a target just like every pre-Outbreak story of gay kids she's ever heard or read.

“I’ll – fuck, I’ll disappoint her.” Joel stops again, aware that he doesn’t want this conversation to happen where you could hear. “Or ruin her, fail her.” He’s failed everybody else, including Ellie. If he hadn’t failed her, he would have already had her to the Fireflies.

"Pretty sure the world is already ruined, and doing nothing is worse than trying even if you don't get the ultimate victory or whatever." She knows this is a serious discussion, but she's fucking fourteen years old. Her worldly experience isn't exactly at pace with his. And while most of the time she's glad about that, it does make it hard to be helpful sometimes. Like right now. Ellie shrugs again, shifting the mattress at her back and lowering her voice a little. "If you really thought you couldn't help, or didn't want to help, or take care of her and the baby, you wouldn't have said they should come with us." Ellie reasons. "Something in that thick fucking skull thought you could take better care of her on the road than she could take care of herself in that commune. And that's saying something, considering how nice that place was."

Joel sighs, knowing what she’s saying is right. He had wanted you to come, needed to be able to see you and the baby. To make sure that nothing happened to you. Instead of admitting that to her, he rolls his eyes. “Get moving. We don’t have all night.”

******

When you lay down that night with the flat pillows and patchwork blankets from your house in Lake City, all your focus is on keeping the baby comfortable. It doesn't matter that she’s been out like a light for hours now, it only matters that you don’t let yourself have illusions about sharing space with Joel.

Joel lays down, shucking his jacket and his boots. The store is locked up and the fire is still crackling between the two mattresses. Ellie is already snoring away and he can’t help but watch you as you fuss over the baby. Reaching over the small space, he sets his hand on your hip. “Are you comfortable, honey?” He asks quietly, wondering if there is something else you need.

“Yeah.” Your eyes snap up to his when he touches you, not expecting it at all. “Yeah…I…I’m just…” You’re aching for him, stupidly. For a kiss to anywhere other than your forehead or hand. To be wanted the way you want him. It’s something you’re going to have to continue to tamp down daily. “It’s nice to not be out in the open,” is what you decide to say.

“It is.” Joel can admit that. “I never sleep out there. Not well.” He’s too busy watching you and the girls sleep. Listening for any sounds of infected or worse, humans approaching. “Surprised you aren’t already asleep. She’ll be awake in a few hours, wanting some milk.”

“It’s been a while since we slept in a bed,” you reason, knowing that the real reason you’re fussing is that you’re trying to wait him out. If he passes out first, you can get yourself off quickly in the dark and get rid of this insistent ache between your legs. “I just want her to be comfortable.”

“She’s fine.” Joel frowns and looks between the baby and you. “Would you rather I not sleep here?”

“No,” you shake your head and wonder if you’re going to have to tell him the truth. “That’s not it. I promise. I’m just fidgeting.”

“Then why don’t we put her in the basket?” He might not know why you are fidgeting but he doesn’t want you to not rest. Maybe you’re worried about her moving or getting away or hurt sleeping between the two of you. “I’ve got it right next to me.” Without waiting for you to answer, he sits up and gently picks up his sleeping daughter to transfer her to the basket.

“O—okay.” Worse. This is definitely worse. You swallow thickly and watch him situate Caroline in her basket right above your heads where you can both reach. Now, with nothing between you, he feels unbearably close.

He hums softly as he lays back down, letting the silence fall between you again. It doesn’t seem like you’re too happy but he’s not good at guessing.

“I’m sorry.” You murmur after the silence has stretched too long. The sound of him breathing is like an unintentional taunt, reminding you that he’s close but so very far away. It’ll drive you crazy if you let it. “I shouldn’t have said anything. Earlier, I mean.”

“Why?” He edges closer to you, turning his head to watch you squeeze your eyes closed. “You shouldn’t be sorry. You – you just need to know that I am – that it’s–”

“I shouldn’t have brought it up because I need words and you don’t. And it’s okay that you don’t. But it’s unfair to ask you to use them when they clearly make you uncomfortable.” Whispers in the night won’t wake either of the girls, but your heartbeat feels like it is racing and screaming. “I wouldn’t have even known you were coming on to me that night unless you had been so blunt. And that’s okay.” You know not everyone communicates the same way. He had straight out told you that he communicates with actions, and that’s just who he is. For him, you’ll work hard to make the adjustment. “I’m not upset with you or anything. I promise. I just…am gonna need some time to learn how you communicate. That’s all.”

“No.” Joel closes his eyes and reaches for your hand. “You deserve the words.” His fingers lace through yours and he squeezes gently. “I– Sarah’s mother hurt me. Real bad.” He tells you quietly. “She up and left us when – hell, Sarah was about four months old. Said she didn’t love me, never wanted to be a mom and vanished.”

“That’s…a hell of a time to make that realization.” Your other hand covers his gently, sealing in the warmth and sealing in the signal that you’re listening. “I’m sorry, honey. You didn’t deserve that.”

“Didn’t matter.” He huffs. “I couldn’t wallow in my misery, I had my little girl to raise. So I did.” He sighs softly. “Never really dated much. Didn’t want to bring some woman around that could leave her again.”

“You were protecting her.” From what little he’s said about Sarah since you first learned his oldest daughter’s name, she was his entire world. She was everything that mattered on earth, and just like your sister had been taken from you – the panic of the Outbreak had quickly decided that she didn’t matter. “There’s nothing wrong with that. You took care of her and loved her enough to be her whole family and…and that’s wonderful.”

“After– when she was gone–” the words make him close his eyes, squeezing them shut from the painful ache in his chest. Twenty years gone and he still missed her like it was yesterday. “I fell into a dark place. Real dark.”

“I can only imagine.” He had had Sarah for thirteen years. Even after only seven months with Caroline, losing her would destroy you.

“I– there was someone else.” He confesses softly. “Tess. She– we were…comfortable together. She didn’t push and I didn’t give. She lost her entire family, son and husband in the weeks after the outbreak.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being a comfort to each other.” Two of the women you lived with in Maine had found comfort together – if not joy – after losing damn near everything. You know how lucky you were to have friends to hold onto. “I’m glad you had someone for that. Even if it didn’t last too long.”

Joel squeezes your hand and pulls you closer. You might be upset at him when he tells you the truth of it. “We were never…committed.” He admits, knowing Tess had her lovers even though he had only ever slept with you. “But I don’t – she died thinking I didn’t love her. I don’t ever want you to believe in your last moments that I don’t love you.”

“Oh.” He wraps one arm around your waist to pull you closer and you respond automatically, always wanting the closeness of having him near without hesitation. “Joel, I—” Everyone has lost someone. Most people lost everyone. But for him to continue to lose people must be terrifying. Rather than having everyone he loves lost in one fell swoop, he keeps having people turn away one by one. That kind of heartbreak isn’t easy to mend. “I’m so sorry, honey.” Nothing you can say to bring back the people he’s lost, but you can damn well acknowledge his pain. “My last moments are a long way away, if I can help it. I have a little girl to watch grow up,” you flash him a smile in the dim firelight. “And a grumpy Texan that I want to get to know a lot better.”

“Honey…Tess died a month ago.” He murmurs softly. “I – when you and I met, she was – she needed some time away from me. It’s why I was on that run by myself. She was with…an old friend.” He swallows and sighs. “I felt guilty when I got back. Not because I had done anything wrong. I hadn’t. But because I couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you. About that night.”

“I guess…” That takes a little extra time to process. He had been on and off with someone and just happened to be at an off point with them at the time that you met. It should make you feel awkward, or upset, or maybe like he lied to you. But what you had had was just an old-fashioned one night stand. It was nothing that turned out to mean something. You hadn’t expected it, clearly. Neither of you had. “I’m glad I didn’t go up to Boston, then. I thought about it a lot…about coming to find you. But…” With a minute shrug of your shoulders, you squeeze his fingers in yours gently. “But that would have made things hard for you. So I’m glad I didn’t.”

“It would have been alright.” Joel knows Tess would have given him shit, but he’s glad you didn’t risk it. He wouldn’t want you or Caroline in that shithole. “Honey. I want you to know that I do care about you. I didn’t stop thinkin’ about you. Wonderin’ if you had made it out west. Where you were, if you had reread that book for the thousandth time and if it reminded you of that night.”

“I—” A sheepish half-smile cracks your face and you reach into your backpack beside Caroline’s basket and come out again with the well-worn volume. “How did you know I’d taken it?”

“I doubled back to grab it and couldn’t find it.” Joel admits with a low chuckle. “Seems like we had the same idea.”

“It’s actually a good book.” Which seems downright beside the point, when the reason that you have it is that it reminds you of him, and you end up flustering a little. “Might have half of it memorized by now. I…I used to read it whenever I caught myself missing you.” Which was virtually every damn day, so you’ve read it a lot.

“You’ll have to read it to me, sometime.” Joel hums, sensing you are a little embarrassed but he doesn’t mind that you kept it.

“Only if we have a babysitter and Ellie’s otherwise occupied,” you snort, grateful for the darkness so that he can’t see your embarrassed face. “In a world without porn, this is pretty sexy stuff.”

“Better than the memory of our own porn?” He asks quietly, remembering every moan you made and how good it felt to be with you.

“Oh god no.” Again you have to stifle yourself, but this time it’s a groan. “We definitely outdid ourselves that night.”

He chuckles. “At least our baby girl will know the exact night she was conceived. And it was a good one.”

“Somehow I don’t think I’ll be telling her exactly how mommy and daddy met as a bedtime story,” you laugh in turn.

“Maybe changed a bit for tender ears.” He concedes with a grin.

“Just a bit.” Like this, curled up in his arms and laid out on a mattress on the floor, the whole feeling of the night is oddly nostalgic.

The silence isn’t heavy, but it is almost anticipatory. Waiting to see who speaks first. “What was the pre-outbreak food you craved while you were pregnant?” He asks softly, smiling at the idea of it.

"Pepperoni." You giggle quietly, bowing your head close to his chest to stifle the sound and not disturb either of the girls. "I used to dream about pepperoni. On literally anything, not just pizza. And Reese's cups."

“Pepperoni.” Joel groans quietly and nearly drools. “Do you know how many ham, bologna and pepperoni sandwiches I lived off of on job sites?”

"We used to get omelets for brunch at the house...during college." It hadn't exactly been a tradition that you could keep up with after the outbreak. "Every single Sunday I'd make normal ham and cheese or veggie omelets for everybody else...and then make myself a pizza one. Mozzarella, pepperoni, and basil in an omelet. Fucking heaven."

“That sounds great.” Joel chuckles and bites his lip. “Sarah made me breakfast the last morning. Eggs and bacon. We didn’t have pancake mix. Thank god.”

“Last I heard from my cousins, they had said…they had figured out what happened to everybody.” A soft sigh against his shirt is muffled, but that’s for the best. “My parents had gone out to dinner with my aunt and uncle that night. Something about having an adult night out.” Your eyes drift up, meeting Joel’s with sadness lacing your expression. “My aunt wanted to try a new bakery. They all…we lost them all pretty quickly, apparently.”

“I’m sorry, honey.” His hand rubs your back soothingly. Everyone still here had lost someone but that didn’t make the loss any less painful. “I really am. Hopefully we can get you back to your people so you can be with what’s left of your family.” He thinks about Tommy, about his own quest to get to him.

"If we're lucky, we'll find my cousins and your brother in the same place." The best you can do is shrug about it, knowing that luck is not something that the world has a lot of anymore.

“Maybe.” There are far more odd things to have happen, like finding the woman he had a one night stand with and learning he became a father again at fifty-six fucking years old. “We can hope.”

"I have all the hope I need right in that basket." You look up at the basket above your heads and sigh. "She's proof that good things are still possible."

Yes she is. Joel smiles softly, looking at you as you look up at the baby. “She might be the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time.” He murmurs softly. “Didn’t realize how much I missed it.”

"You're good with her." It's a particularly solid nudge at your competency kink, if you're honest with yourself. "Born to be a girl dad, I guess."

“I was a single dad at twenty-three.” He reminds you. “Had to be good at it. Depended on me for everything.” Just like Caroline does you and he’ll be damned if she goes without.

"You've come back to it just like riding a bike, then." You won't press the point that he also treats Ellie like a daughter, but it's obvious to everyone who isn't them.

“Some things you never forget how to do.” He’s a bit smug about that, the fact that he had impregnated you the only time you were together hitting the pleasure zone of his dormant caveman genes.

"Yeah, yeah." The smirk on his face makes it abundantly obvious what he's referring to and you stifle a laugh. "You remember that like riding a bike, too."

“Hard not to remember when you were so responsive and beautiful for me.” He tells you honestly. It had been a night to remember.

Huffing, softly, you aim his smirk right back at him. "I had finally calmed myself down and now you're gonna get me worked up again."

Joel frowns for a moment and then works his face into a very smug smirk. “That’s why you were movin’ around, huh?” He asks teasingly. “You were horny?”

Rolling your eyes is the best you can do for a defense since you just admitted, but the atmosphere between you is a lot lighter now. "I was trying to wait until you fell asleep to take care of it."

“You don’t have to wait on me, honey.” He promises, sliding his hand down slightly and then under your shirt lightly to caress your back. “That’s something I’d be mighty interested in.”

"Oh yeah?" Earlier might not have been so playful, you can't be sure. Either way, the feeling of his large hand on your bare back makes you tingle in that very specific way.

“Don’t think you know how gorgeous I think you are.” He grunts softly. His fingers dig in slightly, massaging your skin.

“Doesn’t come up in conversation a whole lot,” you tease, knowing that things don’t get said for lack of privacy but also for Joel’s tendency to show and not tell.

“You are gorgeous.” He insists. “You with Caroline…it takes my breath away. It’s– it’s amazing.” He could watch you with her all the time. “But you are just beautiful by yourself too.”

It’s precarious, the way he’s crept closer to you and you’ve inched deeper into his arms. He’s the closest he’s been days and you can feel his breath on your neck like a wave of much-needed heat. It would be so easy to kiss him right now. “Joel…”

“Yes, honey?” He keeps his voice low, but he’s wanting to know what you want. What you need.

Without the privacy for acting on all the thoughts that have taken over your mind, you swallow thickly when you finally make yourself find his eyes. “Can I kiss you?”

His hand slides farther up your back over your shoulder to urge you up. “Of course, honey,” he murmurs softly. “I wouldn’t turn you down.”

The thread of restraint snaps almost instantly, letting you push forward and close the last inch or so between you to press your lips to his. As needy as you might feel, it’s fairly contained – chaste and earnest and full of love, instead of the desperate clash of two bodies that it had been when you kissed him first a year and a half ago. The feeling of the kiss is freeing, wonderfully plush and warm against his lips. Making him instinctively curl around you more and drag you closer so he can feel you.

Slow exploration and learning each other bit by bit is a far cry from how it had happened the last time, but your relationship – if you could call it that – is very different now. In that random abandoned home in Massachusetts, you were each other’s own means to an end. Now there is an intimacy that shakes you to your core.

It can’t go beyond kissing and maybe a little groping. There’s the baby right above your head as living proof of how he still has bullets in the chamber. And he can’t risk that. Beyond the lack of privacy, he can’t risk you getting pregnant out here, he won’t risk it.

The build is delicious, moving through those first tentative presses to something deeper. You have to have some self-control, obviously, but right now all you can think about is how much you've missed him. How much you've missed this connection that you had even without ever meaning to forge it. It was just something that you discovered together, and it's that much more precious for being so natural.

His tongue slowly maps your mouth, swallowing your sounds as he does. Keeping you anchored to him, although he doesn’t think that you would go anywhere. Encouraging you to throw your leg over his waist and straddle him.

It’s his hand on your leg that brings you back to reality, the encouragement to come closer and to feel him underneath you being too tempting to give in to. “That’s gonna get us in trouble again,” you hum against his lips, grinning into the thick tension that almost swept you away.

“Nahhhhh.” He hums, smirking. “Just gonna make sure you don’t have to get yourself off when I go to sleep.”

“That’s very indulgent of you.” Though you’re not sure if it surprises you or not. Joel may be a bit closed off but he was never a selfish lover.

“How do you want to cum?” He asks you quietly, sliding his hand down to squeeze your still jeans covered ass. “You want to grind against me until you cum? Or do you want me to finger you?”

Given that you would happily commit several crimes to feel his hands on you again, the answer is easy, and you shiver a little at even being given the option. “Your fingers,” you whisper, like saying it louder would break the spell. “Please?”

He had washed up after the dinner, needing to keep his hands clean for handling Caroline. So he’s not worried about being dirty. He rolls you over and smirks. “Slide your jeans down, honey.”

Happy to obey instantly, you pop the buttons on your fly and shift to pull the fabric over your hips. This is a very intimate thing to do in close quarters, but also a compromise. What you want to be doing is far more intimate, and you just don’t have the privacy or safety for that.

Joel throws a leg over yours, pulling your thighs apart and hums when you keep your panties on. There are covers but he knows you want to make sure that Ellie doesn’t wake up and see anything. He slides his hands down to cup you over the material. “You want my fingers?” He teases, pressing lightly.

You'll beg if he wants you to, considering when you try to roll your hips back to tease him his leg holds you steady in place with much more strength than you thought just one leg could possess. "Yes," you end up breathing in surprise.

“Good girl.” He wants to make sure this is good for you, it’s the very least he can do. “I’m going to make you feel good but you need to be quiet.”

With him dominating every atom of air around you it's all you can do not to break and beg for more, but you nod obediently, enjoying the momentary praise of being called good more than you expected. If it gets him to slip those thick fingers into your panties, you'll be as good as gold.

Joel nudges his nose against your cheek, humming softly when you lay pliant for him. Sliding his hand back up so he can dip his fingers underneath the well worn waistband of the panties. “Do you know how often I’ve thought of this cunt?” He growls quietly, his fingers parting the thatch of curls to find the warm, wet folds of your sex.

"Maybe half as often as I've thought of what you did to it?" If he's going to tease you through this, you're going to at least be honest. And try desperately not to let your voice give away what he's doing to you.

“I know I got blamed when you were pushin’ her out.” He chuckles quietly and kisses along your jaw. Fingers finding your clit and pressing.

You swallow a gasp when the pads of his fingers connect with all of those brilliant little nerve endings in your swollen nub. Of course he's right – Caroline's birth was far from a walk in the park. But that isn't what you want to be focusing on when his fingers are a fraction of an inch from slipping inside you. "The getting her was fun, though."

“Yes it was.” He lets his teeth scrape over your skin, enjoying the way you shudder and would push your hips up if he didn’t have your leg pinned. “If I didn’t think it could happen again, I would say we need to repeat it.”

"We do need to." And the pout on your lips is extremely apparent in your voice over the fact that it can't happen right now. "I swear I've never been more desperate for a condom in my life."

Joel chuckles and kisses away the pout on your lips as his fingers slide deep into your walls with surprising ease.

"Shiiii—" Barely able to cut yourself off, you swallow the rest of the curse and let your head fall back on the pillow in utter delight. It's every bit as amazing as you remember it and all he's done is slip two fingers into your pussy.

“Fuck, you’re so hot and tight.” Joel groans into your ear, keeping his voice low so only you can hear it. “Nearly blew my load when I first slipped inside you. Hadta calm myself down.” He enjoys the slickness of your walls as he pumps them once, twice and then curls them up slightly to search for that little spot that makes you clench.

You whimper as your hips roll forward, one hand grasping for the blankets piled up at your side. His voice low in your ear is so much more of a turn on than you expected. Joel knows he can’t spend all night working you up and tearing you apart but he can make sure that you shake in pleasure so you are drowsy with it when he gets done with you. “You feel so good around my fingers, even better around my cock.” He rasps softly. “If I had been here, after findin’ out you were pregnant, you’d been filled with my cum everyday.”

"Joel!" Even whispered it's easy to tell that that idea is a desperately missed opportunity, as your tight walls clamp down on his fingers.

“Yeah, I would have kept you full.” He pumps his fingers in deep, slow curls. “Any time you wanted to drip into your panties.”

"I was so needy during my second trimester." Different than how you need him now, It was like a never-ending itch that no amount of self-satisfaction could ever scratch.

“Fuck, honey.” He groans, his cock twitching behind his jeans. “If I’d have been there you would have been wrung out. Tired from my tongue, fingers and cock.”

It's on the tip of your tongue to insist that if you did it once you could do it again, but this isn't a world that that joke is okay in. "I would have let you," you gasp instead, twisting to kiss him. While his fingers are buried in your cunt, his tongue delves deep into your mouth. Licking and curling around your own tongue to suck on it lightly.

Joel's hand picks up speed, the dexterous movement of his fingers inside you hitting each perfect spot like it isn't only the second time he's been knuckle deep in your pussy. Kissing him muffles a few noises that would otherwise definitely be too loud, and it's a good thing that this mattress is lying on the floor otherwise the creak of bedsprings would have been loud as well.

He can feel your thigh start to tremble under his and he knows you are going to cum soon. Pistoning his fingers in and out of your tight walls as if he were playing you like an instrument or tuning you like an engine.

The hand that had been clutching blankets snaps up, your fingers wrapping around Joel's forearm instead and hanging on for the last two – three – four strokes you need to hit your peak. Your whole body tightens, cunt drawing his fingers in as deep as they'll go and your own fingers clutching desperately to his arm as your mouth falls open on a silent cry. Everything about it is too much and exactly perfect, and the world blots out around you for just a few seconds while you float away on a cloud of pleasure.

He swallows your sounds. Every desperate, broken sob that you push out is absorbed by him. The rumble of satisfaction comes from deep within his chest as he feels the heat and liquid coat his fingers in a torrent from your contracting walls.

You might as well be a puddle when you finally fall back on the mattress half under him, smiling like the love drunk idiot you are and sighing softly into the night. "Well damn," you chuckle under your breath, kissing him again but much more softly.

He’s slow to pull his fingers out of your wet heat but he manages to pull them free eventually during the leisurely kiss. Pulling away and enjoying the completely blissful haze that is on your face. “Think you’ll sleep good now, honey?”

"Better than I have in about a year and a half," you joke quietly.

“Good.” Joel kisses you again softly and pulls back so he can roll onto his back and pull you into his arms. He’s throbbing but ignores it. This was about giving you what you need and not his own wants.

“Do you…?” Glancing down his body, you know there isn’t a chance in hell that he isn’t hard as a rock in his own jeans. Asking him to get you off and then ignoring his own needs would be selfish as all hell.

"I'm...okay." Joel groans softly, not wanting you to feel obligated. "It's a lot more mess with me than you." He reminds you, nudging his nose against yours and kissing you again.

There’s also no way to hide it, and two sets of eyes nearby. “How about we find some privacy tomorrow?” You suggest in his ear, knowing that another day in this place really will give you that chance.

"You don't have to, honey. I hope you know that." Joel is aware that you probably want to get him off, but he still feels like he should remind you.

“I know.” Which is why you’re not riddled with guilt right now, but rather have your mouth watering over the prospect. “I want to.”

Joel's eyes flutter slightly and he curses himself for not trying to find more water to wash up with so you could do what you wanted. "Okay."

“Get some sleep, honey.” The near-groan in his voice is obvious, and you bite back a devious grin. Your goal was to give him something to look forward to in a world with almost none of that – and you’re pretty sure you just succeeded.

There's a moment when he wants to argue, to tell you to do what you want but you are right. He needs to sleep. He will actually sleep rather than just pretend to sleep so he cant watch over you and the girls.

“I love you.” It may be a whisper in the dark, but that isn’t because it’s a secret. It’s because you’re safe. Because he keeps you protected – all of you – and in this world there’s no greater show of love. After all, he shows. He doesn’t tell.

______

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