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justagalwhowrites · 2 months ago

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The Savage and the Sanctuary - Ch. 8: Making Waves

You start filming Savage Starlight and a conflict brings you and Joel closer together. A continuation of The Savage and the Sanctuary, a no outbreak TLOU story, from the prologue through chapter 7 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

CW: Mild violence. Memory of past childhood sexual abuse, not described. No use of Y/N. Whole fic will be explicit so minors DNI, 18+ only.

Length: 11.9k

August, 2002

You stared down at your headshot on your lap, your stomach in knots.

This wasn’t an audition but it felt like one. An intense one at that. Not that you’d ever taken your career casually, you’d always given your best at auditions and rehearsals and on set, even when you were first starting years ago. But that had always just been to make your mom happy and make things better for the people around you and to make something good. You’d never really worried about the practicalities of it. But you had to worry about those practicalities now.

It had been a month since you found out your mother had, essentially, driven your financial life into the ground. You still didn’t know what her endgame was. You were hardly a genius at math but looking at the piles of papers you’d found in her office told you enough and, when you confronted her, she told you the truth: you were more than $6 million in debt, $2 million of that owed to the U.S. government. You may not know much but you knew that was bad. Really fucking bad. You needed money, way more than you’d make for a season of Family Tree. You had, at least, managed to land $100,000 an episode for the season you were filming now but still, that was only $2 million, just enough to cover the past due tax bill and nothing else. You’d been living in your trailer - it was only a matter of time before someone figured that one out - and surviving off craft services for weeks. You needed an apartment, you needed to get a lawyer to get emancipated and those things required money. You needed something else, you needed it to pay well and you needed it now.

You heard your name and your head shot up. The receptionist smiled kindly at you.

“Mr. Wilde will see you now,” she said. “Head on in.”

“Thanks,” you smiled as best you could, your chest tight, and straightened your dress before you headed into the office.

The room was huge, panoramic windows looking over the hills beyond, shelves of awards and pictures of the same man smiling with celebrities on every surface. That man, Henry Wilde, was looking down at his desk when you came in, in a blazer with the top few buttons of his shirt open. You let the door close behind you and you hovered awkwardly, trying to not fidget with your headshot. This was the first time you’d ever taken a meeting like this on your own. Your mother had been your agent but you weren’t about to let her represent you for shit anymore. You needed to find one of those, too. After what felt like a small eternity had passed, you cleared your throat quietly and he looked up, appraising you for a moment before smiling.

“Hey there sweetheart,” he said, standing up. “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you come in! Please, make yourself comfortable.”

He gestured to the plush seats opposite his desk and you smiled, relaxing a little as you crossed the room and sat down. He set his Blackberry to the side and laced his fingers together as he watched you arrange yourself, a small smile on his face.

“Thank you for agreeing to see me, Mr. Wilde,” you said. “I know you said I could reach out when I needed something but I really appreciate it.”

“Of course, of course,” he scoffed. “I do my best to make time for rising talent like you. I’ve been enjoying your work, you are a truly gifted actor.”

“Thank you,” you said, sitting up a little straighter, your hands looping around your knee as you crossed one leg over the other. “That really means a lot, coming from you. I mean when you look at the projects you’ve produced…”

“Please, let’s not waste our time talking about me,” he waved you off. “I’m much more interested in what made you reach out, especially on your own without your mother. She’s always been so… hands on.”

“Yeah,” you winced a little in spite of yourself. “She’s… she’s not representing me anymore. That’s part of why I wanted to see you. I… I found out some things about what she’s been doing and how she’s been managing me and…”

He smiled a little.

“You need some help figuring things out on your own?” He finished for you.

“Yes,” you sighed, relieved, and then laughed. “Yes, I really, really do. I don’t really know what I’m doing for this, just that I have some money that I owe so I need to work but I don’t know how to find an agent or a manager and how to find more work and I just…”

“You were right to come to me,” he cut you off, reaching into a tray on his desk, flipping through a stack of file folders before finding the one he was looking for. “We can’t be losing talent like yours to the bureaucratic bullshit of the industry…”

You were silent for a minute, watching as he paged through things, nodding to himself, before reaching into his desk and pulling out a business card. You sat up a little straighter as he looked at you across the desk.

“I think I have a way to help you,” he said. “There’s a part that I can get you an audition for - you’d still have to land it but I’ll get you in the mix - that should solve any of the economic issues you’re having. And I have an agent for you -” he held the business card out to you between two thick fingers. You reached to take it but he pulled it back. You frowned, looking back at him. “But I’d need something in return.”

You deflated a little.

“But…”

“I’m a business man,” he continued, watching you. “I don’t give things away for free. If I did, I never would have reached where I am today. This needs to go both ways, sweetheart.”

You laughed a little in spite of yourself.

“OK,” you said. “But I… I don’t have anything. That’s why I’m here, I don’t have any money, I don’t know anybody - at least not anyone you wouldn’t know - I…”

“I don’t need money or power,” he interrupted you. His eyes ranged over you, slow and sharp. “But believe me, there’s plenty you have that I want.”

You swallowed hard, your stomach clenching.

“I don’t…”

“And there’s plenty I have that you want,” he continued like you hadn’t spoken at all, his eyes lingering on your chest, your thighs. “The only question is what you will do to get it.”

You steeled yourself, the threat of debt and homelessness hanging over your head.

“I’ll do anything,” you said. “Please.”

He smiled, the expression making you want to squirm uncomfortably in your seat.

“Good,” he said, holding the card out again. “That’s the information for the agent. I’ll give them the information for the audition if you come to my hotel tonight at 8 p.m. Sound good?”

Your heart stuttered in your chest. It wasn’t like you had any experience with men but you knew what he was asking for.

“Yes,” you said quietly.

“Good,” he said. “I’ll send a car and I’ll see you tonight.”

He looked back to his desk and you took that to mean that you were dismissed and you stood up, your legs shaky and your headshot still in your hands.

“Oh, and sweetheart?” He said and you turned to face him, an almost hungry look on his face. “Wear something… cute.”

You just nodded and made your way out of his office, past the receptionist and to the elevator, trying not to wonder if any of this was worth it.

November 29. 2024

“Christmas Shoes.”

“Bullshit.”

“It’s true, that’s my favorite Christmas song.”

You scoffed.

“Who hurt you as a child?” You asked, wishing you could turn and look at your costar but you had to sit still for the makeup artists to do their job, your eyes closed as one of them worked on your eyeshadow. “That’s the worst, most depressing song choice in the world.”

“Alright, Miss Superiority Complex,” he said. “What’s your favorite Christmas song?”

“Christmas Wrapping by the Waitresses,” you said without hesitation.

“No,” he said and you could almost hear him shaking his head and you resisted the urge to giggle. “No, I don’t believe you. You’re just trying to sound cool, that’s not actually your favorite.”

“Yes it is,” you said. “Sorry my taste is so much better than yours but…”

“Alright,” your makeup artist said and you didn’t feel her fingers or brushes on your face anymore so you opened your eyes. She smiled, sitting back from you, looking proud of her work. “Ready for the wig?”

“Hell yeah,” you smiled. “Let’s go.”

They turned your chair so your back was to the mirror and you watched as the artists brought in a white wig that looked like it would reach your waist. The prep work for the hairpiece had already been done, a bald cap on your head while the makeup artists did their job, and putting on the wig itself didn’t take too long, a production assistant going to get one of the marketing team interns to come in and shoot the video of you seeing yourself as Starlight for the first time. You got out of the chair, keeping your back to the mirrors as your co-star, Cole Cox, watched from his own makeup chair with a little smile on his face.

“You do look really good,” he said, the marketing person catching everything. “My kid is going to lose her mind when she sees me standing next to you.”

“Wait ’til she sees you flying with me,” you smiled back before jumping in place for a moment to loosen yourself up, the camera fading into the background of your mind. “Alright, let’s do it!”

You turned to face the mirror and gasped in spite of yourself.

You’d seen yourself in costume plenty of times before in your life. Sometimes it seemed like you spent more time dressed up as someone else than you did as yourself. But you’d never seen yourself as a superhero before. Putting the costume on that morning had been an experience in and of itself. It took some help getting into it, the molded pieces and tight fabric a lot more work than you were used to when it came to getting dressed, but you couldn’t deny that the end result looked pretty incredible.

But with the wig and the makeup - highlighting your cheekbones, making your eyes look sharper - it was even better.

“Oh my God,” you said leaning into the mirror to get a better look at yourself. The makeup artist laughed. “This is amazing! I look… heroic!”

“Endure and survive, baby,” Cole said and you laughed.

“Endure and survive,” You smiled, looking over your shoulder to him.

“Alright, let’s get you two to set,” the production assistant said and you took one last look at yourself before you turned to leave.

It was almost hard to believe that you’d been in Austin, making Thanksgiving dinner at this time the day before. It had been a hectic day, getting up early and napping in the car on the way to the airport and again on the plane, feeling oddly safe sleeping in front of people because you knew Joel was there. You’d gone straight from LAX to the studio and into costuming and makeup and even though you were just doing some promo stuff that day, you knew you were going to be exhausted by the time you made it home that night.

Joel, to his credit, had been surprisingly… maybe not kind, but less than surly since your conversation in your office days earlier. While he didn’t seem thrilled about getting up so early, he’d kept his commentary to himself and hadn’t even fought too hard about needing to wait outside the hair and makeup room instead of being glued to your side the entire time. You wondered if he’d be happy being quite that flexible during the rest of your trip. Somehow, you doubted it.

Your bodyguard was right there when the door to the makeup room opened, looking like he’d been pacing the short distance of the hallway for a while, turning quickly as you left.

“Took you long…” he began but his voice trailed off and he stared at you, his eyes going a little wide.

“So cool, right?” You said, popping your hip and planting your hand there to strike a pose. “It really looks like the suit from the comics! Do you think Ellie will like it?”

He snapped his mouth shut and blinked for a moment.

“Well?” You asked, brows raised, suddenly nervous. Joel had come to know Ellie well over the last few months, what if he thought she wouldn’t like it?

“Yeah,” he cleared his throat awkwardly, much of his trademark gruffness absent from his voice. “Yeah, think… You look… She’ll like it.”

You smiled and made your way to set, Joel damn near pressed to your side the entire way.

It was about what you expected for the rest of the day. You posed for promotional photos with Cole and by yourself, the oddly exacting feeling of Joel’s eyes on you while you did. Then, they put you in some rigging and walked you through how to pose like you were flying.

“OK this is trippy,” you said, hanging 10 feet in the air. “Are we going to use any of this footage for anything but promos? I’m not sure of her physicality yet, especially with flight…”

“This is just for your intro video,” the director said. “Kind of like a highlight reel. It’ll circulate online plenty after the announcement but we don’t have any plans to use this anywhere in the final film.”

“So I can fuck around as much as I want,” you said. “Noted.”

You heard Joel stifle a laugh and you looked toward him as he rolled his eyes.

“What, Big Miller?” You teased.

“Nothin’,” he said. “Just learning where that niece of yours got her mouth from.”

“She had to learn it somewhere,” you winked and you saw him try not to smile.

You ended up in the air for a while, the camera slowly panning down your costumed body, capturing you from every angle and you tried not to feel self conscious about that before you focused on looking strong and intimidating with a wind machine in your face.

Then were some fight sequences - mostly just your side of it, almost like you were battling a camera man - and striking poses that felt immensely foolish, your hands out in front of you like you were sending a burst of energy forth but none came. The marketing person followed you around any time you weren’t actively filming, catching you goofing off with Cole and dancing a little to the music that was playing on set as everyone got into position. It was disconcerting, being so observed again. You’d become spoiled in Texas, months since you’d last been on a film set or under the omnipresent eye of a camera. You had to maintain a different persona here, one that was palatable and easily consumed and, by the time you went back to get out of costume, you were exhausted.

“You alright?” Joel asked, his hand on your lower back as he led you to the car.

“Fine,” you said, trying to hide a yawn and failing miserably. “Just tired.”

“Probably hungry, too,” he muttered, sounding irritated. “Didn’t see you eat a damn thing today and you were doin’ all that shit, flying around, fighting… Gonna fuckin’ collapse if you’re not careful.”

You looked at him, a little incredulous as he opened the car door.

“There’s not room for me to eat anything in that suit,” you said. “And since when do you pay attention to my eating habits?”

He rolled his eyes.

“In the car.”

“So demanding,” you muttered but you obeyed all the same, too eager to have room to breathe to fight his orders on principle. Joel climbed in after you, pulling the door closed with a little too much force. The driver started moving almost the second the door was closed. “But the statement still stands, since when do you care what I’m eating?”

“Since you collapsing would make my life difficult,” he said. “And since we were on that set all damn day with that big food table and all you did was drink water and Diet fuckin’ Coke.”

“Such a gentleman.”

“Shove it,” he griped. You snorted. “You got food in that house of yours or are you just planning to go on hunger strike for this whole damn movie?”

You rolled your eyes but unbuckled your seatbelt and leaned between the front seats so you could see the driver. He glanced at you, brows raised.

“Ma’am.”

“Hi,” you smiled. “You don’t have to just go to my house, right? I can tell you somewhere else to go?”

“Yes ma’am,” he said.

“Siren,” Joel said, a warning tone on his voice that you ignored.

“Perfect,” you said. “Then let’s go to In ’n Out, one near the beach please.”

“Yes ma’am,” he said again and you sat back, crossing one leg over the other and looking at Joel, smug.

“Security don’t get a say in this?” He said wryly.

“Nope,” you said.

“You tryin’ to get yourself killed?” He asked.

“Usually,” you said.

He rolled his eyes.

“Seatbelt,” he said.

“Seatbelt,” you said, lowering your voice to parrot his own, bobbing your head from side to side but obeying anyway. “God, isn’t it exhausting being that controlling?”

“You’re exhausting,” he said. “You’re not just going inside a restaurant, you know.”

“I know,” you said. “It’s fast food, Joel. It has a drive through.”

“Jesus,” he muttered and you smiled.

“You forgot,” you said. He looked at you, brows raised and you smiled wider. “You forgot that fast food places have drive throughs for a minute there, didn’t you.”

“No,” he said, defensive and irritated and you had to press your lips together to keep from laughing. “I just always expect you to do the most ridiculous shit, damn the consequences. Don’t see why you’d change that now.”

You just rolled your eyes and watched the city go by, girls in short dresses dashing across streets and ducking into bars, guys clapping hands with their friends, the lights of the city sparkling. You wondered what it would be like to live that life, one where you could just be a face in the crowd that no one paid any mind to beyond the people you loved, where a small economy wasn’t riding on you showing up to work every day, where you weren’t so caged by choices made for you before you could even really understand them.

You did a video call with Ellie on the drive and checked in with her and Elise, who had come to stay at your house for the few weeks you were gone so they would be better protected. She’d had a good day, Esmo helping the two of them decorate the house for Christmas.

“Sissy, look at this shit!” Ellie said, turning the camera so it faced out into the living room.

“Ellie!” Elise scolded. “Language!”

“Fine,” she sighed, exasperated. “Look at this stuff.”

“That looks amazing, kiddo!” You said, watching as she panned around the room, showing off the fat tree that sat against the back wall. “Good eye.”

“It even has the old ornaments, look!” She said, going to the tree and going in close on a bulb that was covered in haphazard glitter paint in the shape of a small handprint, one Ellie and Anna had made when Ellie was a toddler. “Like the really old ones I made with Mom!”

“Yeah,” you said, getting choked up. “Check that out.”

She turned the camera back on her face.

“We saved some for you to put on. But… Wish you could have been here to decorate and sh…stuff,” she said.

“Me too,” you smiled a little sadly. “But I’ll be home before you know it and you can show me everything.”

“Cool,” she said. “Hey, Big Miller!”

“What’s up, trouble maker?” He asked, putting his face next to yours so he was in the frame, too.

“Do you have a tree and ornaments and stuff at your house or are you going to have to use ours?”

You felt him stiffen for a moment at your back for half a moment before responding.

“Not much point in decorating for just me,” he said. “But don’t care about the holidays much, anyway so it don’t matter.”

“You should get some ornaments and a stocking and shit,” she said.

“Ellie!” Elise scolded.

“And STUFF,” Ellie said. “I said stuff, Grandma!”

“No you didn’t,” you and Joel said at the same time.

“Traitors,” Ellie muttered, rolling her eyes. “Anyway, you should bring some Christmas stuff,” Ellie stressed the word “and put it up with our stuff. You’re at our house all the time, anyway.”

Before you had a chance to intervene and force some of the professional distance Joel claimed to have wanted, he answered for you.

“Maybe, kid,” he said. “Don’t… don’t really have much of that kind of thing though.”

“We should head to bed over here,” Elise said, looping her arm around Ellie’s shoulders and giving you a soft smile. “It’s late. You’re taking care of yourself out there? Not stressing yourself too much?”

“I’m fine, Mom,” you smiled back. “And Big Miller here isn’t letting me out of his sight so no scary fans can come run off with me, promise.”

“Good,” she said. “Get some rest. We’ll talk to you tomorrow, honey.”

You said your goodbyes just as the car pulled up to the In ’n Out drive through.

“What do you want,” Joel said, reading the menu as you waited your turn.

“I’ll just order it myself,” you waved him off.

“No, you won’t,” he said. “Don’t need anyone recognizing your damn voice and calling the fuckin’ paparazzi…”

You snorted.

“That’s not a thing you need to worry about,” you said. “We’d be long gone before they showed up. It’s fine. And you’d just order it wrong. If I’m risking this damn costume not fitting tomorrow so I can eat tonight you’d better believe I’m getting what I want.”

He looked at you, his jaw clenched tight, but he still rolled down the window when you pulled up to the kiosk and you let Joel order first because it seemed like the nice thing to do. You had to lean over him to get closer to the window and he stiffened, sitting stock still as your front brushed against him.

“Hi!” You called brightly through the window. “Can I get a double double, protein style and animal style and fries with spread on the side and a Diet Coke?”

“Is that even food?” Joel asked once the man working the window repeated your order back to you.

You scoffed.

“It’s definitely food. And don’t be jealous when mine is better than yours,” you said. “I’m not sharing.”

You ignored Joel when he tried to yank you into the back seat, his hand closing around the waist of your yoga tights as you leaned between the front seat to get your food, the kid working the window gaping at you for a moment.

“Hi,” you smiled.

“Oh my God,” he said, gaping at you.

“Is the spread in there?” You asked, holding up the bag.

“Uh,” he said, his eyes wide. “Yeah… yeah, it’s in there.”

“Awesome,” you smiled wider. “You’re the best. Thank you!”

“You about gave that kid a heart attack,” Joel said, opening his own bag and pulling out a French fry. “That famous face of yours is gonna get someone killed…”

“Ha ha,” you rolled your eyes. “And you’re not allowed to eat yet.”

“Dyin’ to know why not,” he said, popping the fry in his mouth anyway.

“Because you have to wait until we’re at the beach to eat it, that’s the rule,” you said before turning your attention to the driver. “Nearest beach, please. Not Santa Monica, that’ll be too busy by the pier.”

“Yes ma’am,” he said.

“No,” Joel snapped. “Absolutely not.”

“Absolutely yes,” you said.

“It’s not safe,” he said, leaning forward to talk to the driver. “Don’t listen to her, do not go to the beach.”

“It’s after dark and I want to see the ocean,” you said.

“It’s dangerous,” he growled.

“No one knows I’m going to be there,” you said, as calmly as you could. “No one is expecting me. It’s after dark, no one will be there trying to swim or sunbathe. This is the time to go.”

“You don’t need to go look at the damn water,” Joel said. “It’s water. Same as always.”

“I miss the beach,” you said, watching him closely. “Come on, Joel. I’m giving up enough, aren’t I? Can’t I have this? Just one little normal thing? Please?”

He watched you back for a moment, those brown eyes of his sharp at first but softening.

“You listen when we’re there,” he said eventually. “If anyone else is there, we leave. You don’t do anything reckless or dumb. We clear?”

“Crystal,” you smiled, practically giddy. “I’ll be on my best behavior, I promise.”

“Better not do anything dumb,” he muttered, shaking his head and crossing his arms over his chest but not protesting any more.

The driver stopped in an empty lot, the horizon dark, the light of the city at your back, Santa Monica Pier bright in the distance. But this stretch of sand was empty of people, just the way you liked it. You looked to Joel all the same, eyebrows raised and one hand on the door handle.

He sighed.

“Go on.”

You couldn’t help but squeal a little, too excited for this little slice of normalcy to hold it in. You damn near threw the door open, all the exhaustion that had weighed you down fading enough that you ran, arms spread wide, toward the water.

The crash of the waves was loud, the air crisp and cool and laden with salt and the harsh tang of wet seaweed and rotting fish. You stopped just at the edge of the waves, the tide high, and whooped out into the night, to where the stars disappeared into the darkness, laughing as your voice faded to nothing in the distance.

“The hell are you doin’,” Joel said more than asked as he came up alongside you.

“Enjoying the ocean,” you said, breathless, watching the waves roll in for a moment, listening to them crash before looking at Joel smiling. “Why, do you do something besides yell at the water when you do it?”

He gave you a look that, even in the dim light of the city behind you and the pier in the distance and the moon overhead, you recognized as at least a little exasperated and you laughed.

“C’mon, Big Miller,” you teased, clapping him on the shoulder before traipsing back inland. “Let’s eat.”

You got the food from the car and you planted yourself down on the sand, midway between the parking lot and the water, taking off your shoes and burying your toes in the cool sand. Joel sat beside you, close enough that his elbow brushed yours when he moved. You got the burger out first and took a bite, giving a satisfied moan when you did, your stomach growling too.

“Fuck, that’s good,” you said, your mouth full. “I was hungrier than I realized.”

“Told you,” Joel said, smug, taking a bite of his own burger. “Shit, think I was, too.”

“You don’t have any damn excuse,” you said, taking another bite. “You can have all the craft services you want, you don’t have a costume that has very little stretch that was made from very precise measurements to fit into every day.”

“Sounds like a personal problem,” he said.

“Suppose it does,” you said, balancing the burger on your knees to open the spread and dip a fry in it.

“So,” Joel said after a minute. “Why’d you want to come to the beach.”

You looked over at him, brows raised. He was staring determinedly ahead at the water as he took a sip of his drink.

“Do you really want to know?” You asked. “Or do you want leverage on me.”

He shrugged.

“Dunno what I could leverage on you about a fuckin’ beach.”

You laughed dryly.

“Suppose that’s true,” you looked at the water, too. “I used to come to the beach a lot when I was little. It’s about the only thing I remember from before I started working.”

You felt Joel’s eyes on you then but you kept looking straight ahead.

“Most people come to Los Angeles but I was from here,” you continued. “And yeah, I might be some rich asshole now but I wasn’t exactly born into money. I’m guessing my mom brought me here because she was flat broke and this was a free way to keep me occupied. But I remember sitting on the sand and eating those saltine crackers - the individually wrapped ones, like you get with soup at restaurants which is probably what she did, swiped them from work when she was waiting tables - and just watching the water and wondering how far my voice would travel if I yelled. I thought it might carry across the world when I was really little because there was nothing there to stop it… Anyway. I still like coming here, I miss it when I can’t. It makes me feel small.”

“And that’s a good thing?” Joel asked, his eyes still on you.

You looked at him then, at his uncommonly soft gaze, tracing the outline of his face with your eyes. You realized that you knew his face so well now, better than so many others. Even in the dark, you knew where the flecks of gray had started in his beard, knew that the creases would be less pronounced around his eyes right now because he wasn’t glaring at you.

“I think so,” you said softly, the waves crashing in their steady rhythm before you. “It’s nice to be reminded that, in the grand scheme of things, I’m actually quite insignificant.”

“Don’t think that’s true,” he said. “Think you’d always matter.”

You watched him for a moment, as though he was going to change his mind or take it back, but he didn’t.

“Yeah, well,” you shrugged, looking back to the water and brushing the sand off your shins. “I guess it doesn’t really make much difference, does it?”

“Suppose not,” he said.

You put the paper wrappers and your empty cup in the bag and tucked it where you didn’t think it would blow away before looping your arms around your knees, taking a deep, centering breath.

“You ready for a lot more days like today?” You asked. “Standing around while I play dress up?”

“Jesus,” he muttered. “Can’t believe how many times they make you do the same damn thing again and again.”

You laughed.

“Yeah, that happens,” you said. “It’s gotta be pretty boring to watch from the outside.”

You more felt him shrug than saw him.

“Had more boring jobs.”

You kept watching the waves, the energy you had from just being at the beach slowly fading and the exhaustion for the day catching up with you and you leaned your head onto Joel’s shoulder. He stiffened for a moment but, before you moved away from him, he relaxed into you. He was calming, something sturdy about his presence, and he smelled clean and masculine and you had the oddest desire to nuzzle into his neck and breathe him in and commit that scent to memory.

“See why you like the beach,” he said eventually. “It’s… nice. Steady.”

You smiled a little.

“Yeah,” you said. “It is.”

You stayed like that for a while, until you were worried you were going to fall asleep on him and you went back to the car. On the drive home, you fought to keep your eyes open but failed, your head finding the warm comfort of his broad shoulders once again and you drifted off to the steady cadence of his breathing as the world went by outside your window.

***

He shouldn’t allow this.

He knew better. He did. But as you leaned against his side, your head on his shoulder, he slumped down further in his seat so you stayed in that place pressed into him, the artificial scent of hair spray and makeup remover mixing with sand and the salt of the water and your sweat.

He fucking knew better. This was stupid. Arguably one of the stupidest things he’d ever done. He didn’t want to be attached to you. He definitely didn’t want to get any more attached than he already was. He didn’t want to know what your fucking hair smelled like or how soft your skin was or how your body felt when it relaxed against his own.

But.

But you were there. You were close and protected and had unconsciously found comfort in him in a way no one had done in so, so long and he hated how much he enjoyed that. He liked you close, wanted you close. He felt calm, sure when you were close.

This was stupid but he wasn’t sure how to stop it. It felt like when he was a kid, running down a steep hill at full speed and he knew that even if he stopped putting one foot in front of the other he would keep careening toward the bottom, not able to control it.

He felt it when he was with you on the plane and you were groggy and he stopped the flight attendant from waking you to offer you breakfast or a drink because you needed the rest and instead kept the fruit and the granola bar and gave them to you when you woke. He felt it when he saw you in that damn costume, as if the fucking leggings and sports bras weren’t bad enough, you dressed in something made for you - designed to make you look powerful and beautiful and strong - made his heart stutter in his chest. He felt it when he watched your costar touch you in the ways he wanted to touch you. He tried to shove that urge down deep, tried to keep from breaking his damn jaw from clenching it so hard as he watched you work.

And now you were asleep against him, relaxed and soft. He should stop it, he knew that, but he couldn’t.

You didn’t wake as the car came to a stop in your driveway, you didn’t even stir.

“Hey,” he said softly, nudging you gently. “C’mon, we’re home.”

Your face scrunched but you just pressed closer to him.

“Hey,” he said again, giving you a little shake. “Gotta get you inside.”

You didn’t respond at all that time and, as good an actress as you might be, Joel could tell you weren’t faking. Back when he thought you were nothing more than a spoiled brat, he’d be frustrated by it but he knew better now. You’d been traveling since 3 a.m. local time, been going non-stop since you were on the ground and it was after 10 now. Joel had gotten to sit there and watch you work all day - the contained space of the movie studio making his job easier than he was used to - and he was pretty damn tired. It was no wonder you were exhausted.

Joel sighed.

“Alright, hang on,” he said to himself far more than to you.

He carefully arranged you so you wouldn’t fall over without him to lean on and slowly, delicately, got out of the car before gingerly pulling you against his body. He tucked your head into his shoulder, one arm going behind your back and below your arms, the other looping beneath your knees. You groaned a little in your sleep, your eyebrows knitting together, but you just nuzzled closer to him, your fingers looping around the collar of his shirt and tangling in the fabric to hold him close.

Dominic, one of the guards at your front door who had been on your detail the last time you were in LA, smirked a little as he opened the door for Joel.

“Shut up,” Joel muttered as he carried you inside.

“Didn’t say a thing,” Dominic said.

Joel carried you to your room, the lamp on your nightstand on when he got there and set you softly on the bed. He carefully removed your shoes and tugged the knit throw draped over the foot of your bed up and over you. You smiled in your sleep, face content and relaxed, and he let himself pretend, for a moment, that that look was for him. He watched you from that reality, one where he didn’t manage to destroy everything he ever cared for, one where he was worthy of your peace and quiet spaces, but stopped himself before he got lost there, in that world that wasn’t for him. He went to turn off the lamp but paused for a moment, looking at a photo on your bedside table.

In any other context, with any other person, it wouldn’t have been anything extraordinary. It was you, Anna, Elise and Ellie at Disneyland. Ellie couldn’t have been more than seven, a gap in her smile as the four of you posed in front of the castle. Your arm was around her front to pull her back against you and Anna’s head was on your shoulder and Elise was beaming on the other side of you. But the best part was you in the middle of it all. You looked… normal. Still so beautiful he was sure people would be staring at you even if you weren’t famous but your skin was shiny with sweat, a pair of sunglasses tucked into the neck of your tank top, cutoff shorts and tennis shoes and Mickey Mouse ears on like you were just any other person. If you’d started the day in makeup it was long gone by the time this picture was taken but you didn’t seem to care. You looked happy. So fucking happy, in a way Joel was sure he hadn’t seen before, like this was all you wanted in the world. Not the movie premieres and awards shows but this, being next to the people you loved, giving your niece something she wanted.

Something about that gave Joel a lump in his throat. That, when it came down to it, the thing you really wanted was probably the same thing he did - more time with someone who was gone.

He tucked the blanket in tighter around you and tried not to think about the disturbingly human version of you that he left behind in your bed when he went to his own.

“Did you put me to bed last night?” You asked by way of greeting the next morning, sitting in your kitchen with a cup of coffee in your hand when Joel got up for the day.

Joel shrugged, getting himself a mug and going for the coffee pot.

“You could have woken me up, you know,” you said, a teasing edge to your voice.

“Tried that,” he replied. “You weren’t movin’. Couldn’t just let you sleep in the car all night, not safe.”

“Well, I’ll do my best to make sure you don’t need to haul my ass around today,” you said. “But… thanks.”

“Sure,” he said again. “But… it was fine. Didn’t mind.”

You smiled a little and tried to hide it behind your mug and Joel tried to ignore the way his chest swelled a little when you did, when you gave him some indication that you liked him looking out for you.

That day was more of the same, Joel sitting on a movie set and not fully understanding what was happening, watching you in that perfectly fitted fucking costume as you ran and jumped and threw punches and flew with your all-too-handsome costar pressed tight to your side. He tried to get used to it, to watching you work while he sat on his ass, to seeing you touch someone else in that soft and tender way without a spark of jealousy catching in him.

It was the same the next day, too, and the day after that and Joel was starting to wonder how long you could really keep going at this pace. They had you getting to set at six in the goddamn morning, in hair and makeup and costuming until close to nine and then you were shooting until close to nine at night, often with nothing but a smoothie or fucking Diet Coke in between.

“Acting is… harder than I thought it’d be,” Joel said one day on the ride back to your house.

“It can be a hard job,” you said with a shrug. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m very lucky to do what I do and I love acting but yeah, it can absolutely kick your ass some days.”

“Good to know you earn that damn paycheck at least,” he said dryly.

You laughed.

“Always happy to have your seal of approval, Big Miller.”

He was relieved when things relaxed on Thursday, you apparently having meetings at the studio half the day and you didn’t move from your room for so long that Joel was starting to worry. But, eventually, you emerged, looking almost oddly polished and professional with dark jeans and a turtleneck and a blazer on.

“Starting to think you died,” Joel said dryly from his place on the couch.

You smiled a little.

“Sorry to disappoint,” you said. “Just tired, needed to catch up on sleep.”

“Can’t blame you,” Joel muttered. “Seems like that director is bound and determined to work you to death.”

You shrugged.

“I did ask them to try and squeeze as much filming into a day as possible,” you said. “I don’t want to be away from Ellie for too long. This whole process is going to be tricky when we start shooting with the whole cast next month, we’re just trying to knock out what we can now because we can.”

“Still,” Joel said. “Can’t make a movie if you drop dead from exhaustion.”

“Aw, Big Miller,” you smirked a little. “Look at you, caring. Who knew you had it in you?”

“Alright, let’s go,” he said, getting to his feet and grabbing his jacket. “Before this all goes to your damn head…”

He tried to ignore the pleased little smile on your face on the drive to the studio offices, the sunlight through the tinted windows almost making your skin glow.

Joel stayed closer to you than usual as the two of you headed into the skyscraper in Burbank, this space less contained than the studio lot. It looked so much like a regular office building it was a little disconcerting and he felt distinctly out of place here, especially with you because you were out of place here, too.

Not in the way he was, of course. Joel had never been under the misplaced assumption that he would one day work in a building like this one. This world was different than the one he occupied, he would never be anything more than an interloper among powerful people who dominated the corporate world and made more money than he could even dream of. But you were on the opposite side of the spectrum, so far apart from him that you may as well have been a different species. Things as mundane as a business meeting and an office building seemed so far below you - though, at least, this place seemed to realize that.

A young woman met you at the front door, handing you an iced coffee and ushering you quickly through a turnstile and to an elevator without you needing to talk to anyone or pass through a metal detector like the other mortals that were coming and going from here.

“Do you know your way from here?” She asked as the elevator neared its destination.

“Yes, thank you,” you smiled. “I appreciate your help.”

“Of course,” she said as the door chimed and opened. “Please let me know if I can get you anything else.”

Quinn met you at the elevator doors, which opened onto another lobby - one much more opulent than the one downstairs, looking more like a luxury hotel than an office building.

“We just need to get a few things nailed down,” she said, you and her talking low as Joel trailed along behind you to an office with a secretary waiting out front.

“I think you’re safe to wait out here,” you said when Joel went to follow you inside. “Don’t think there are any big bad monsters lying in wait for me up here.”

“Probably right,” Joel said and you gasped.

“Joel Miller, admitting that I’m correct? I’m shocked!”

“Don’t get used to it,” he said, resisting the urge to smile as he watched you head into some oversized office with some overpaid executive before settling in to wait.

He tried to soothe his unease at there being a wall between you in a place he didn’t know by being alert, his arms crossed over his chest, body tense. He could just see some of the lobby outside through the glass in the door and he caught a glimpse of the jackass producer you’d dated in the past, the one who was far too old for you as he went walking past. He tightened his jaw.

Eventually, you and Quinn came back out, some man Joel hadn’t met before following behind.

“Looking forward to sharing this with the world,” he said, offering you his hand.

“You and me both,” you smiled, taking it as Joel looked the man up and down. But you weren’t stiff and uncomfortable like you’d been in the past, instead seeming much more like yourself.

“Seemed like that went well,” Joel said, following you and Quinn back to the lobby.

“It did,” you smiled a little, looking back over your shoulder to him. “Believe it or not, not everything in this town is dramatic.”

Joel snorted.

“Could’ve fooled me.”

The three of you were headed for the elevators again when you stopped, looking at a woman and a man talking in two arm chairs not far away.

“Margie?” You said and the woman looked up, blinking in surprise at you before smiling hugely. You smiled back and headed for her, Joel and Quinn trailing behind you. It took him a moment to place the woman and then he recognized her, the mother of the girl who was playing the younger version of you in Savage Starlight. “Hey, how are you! What brings you out here?”

“Oh, we just had some meetings today,” she said, standing so she was on your level, looking a little star struck.

“Yeah?” You smiled. “Is Catherine here? In talks for another role? I’m not surprised if she is, she’s very talented.”

“Kind of,” Margie said. “Henry Wilde said he wanted to meet her, can you believe that? She’s in with him right now, we’re just…”

Joel felt you stiffen, watched the smile slip off your face.

“She’s with him now?” You asked, all the warmth gone from your voice. “Alone?”

Margie’s face fell, too.

“Yeah,” she said. “Yeah, she is, what…”

You and Quinn exchanged a quick look.

“Go,” she said and you gave Joel a look, almost pleading, before starting toward another door off the lobby.

Joel followed at your heels. In any other circumstance, he’d have stopped you, pulled you back and demanded to know what the hell it was you thought you were doing but he had a feeling about this, one that made his stomach turn.

You shoved the door open and the secretary jumped to her feet, her eyes wide, you not even slowing down as you stalked past her.

“Mr. Wilde is busy right now,” she said. “You can’t just…”

“Oh I bet he is,” you said, going to the other door and giving it a sharp shove. It didn’t budge.

“Like I said,” the secretary said again, sharper this time and standing next to you and Joel. “Mr. Wilde is in a meeting and is not to be disturbed.”

“Oh, I think I can disturb him all I want,” you said, stepping back from the door and looking to Joel. “Do me a favor and open that for me, would you?”

There was something about the look in your eyes, something sharp and earnest and vulnerable, that made him just obey, bracing his shoulder and forcing the door open with a crack.

He stumbled into the room, a huge office with floor to ceiling windows along the back with a desk in the middle of them. Wilde’s head shot up and Catherine jumped from her seat opposite him, her eyes wide.

“What the…”

“Henry!” You swept in behind Joel, back straight and head high, something almost intimidating about you when you did. Joel followed close behind you and you stopped next to Catherine’s chair. “Been a while.”

Joel watched the man behind the desk, ready to move for him, but he just shook his head a little before getting to his feet.

“Too long,” he said.

“Mr. Wilde,” the secretary ran in, her eyes wide. “I’m so sorry, I tried to stop them, but…”

“It’s not your fault,” he said. “Why don’t you take Miss Ford here back to her mother and her agent, we were just finishing up anyway. Give us some space to chat, would you?”

“Of course,” she said. “Miss Ford, why don’t you come with me?”

“But…” Catherine looked between you and Wilde. Your eyes were raking over her, again and again, like you were looking for something.

“It was lovely to chat with you,” Wilde said. “I’ll be in touch.”

“Go see your mom,” you said, a tight smile on your face that didn’t reach your eyes. “Stick close with her, OK?”

“OK,” she said cautiously, watching you for a moment before going to the secretary and doing as she was told.

You watched Catherine and the secretary leave, waiting until you heard the outer office door close before turning your attention back to Wilde.

“That was a bit dramatic, don’t you think?” He asked, coming around his desk and standing close enough to you that it made Joel stiffen. “You know if you want to see me all you have to do is ask.”

“You and I both know that I want absolutely nothing to do with you,” you snapped, your voice so much sharper than Joel was used to hearing it when you spoke to anyone else. Even when you were harsh with him, there was an undercurrent of your typical teasing edge to it or, at least, hurt. This was hateful, pure vitriol, and it felt earned.

“Oh, I don’t think that’s true at all,” he smirked. “Why else would you come bursting in here?”

“Because I am not about to let you sink your fangs into that little girl,” you said through gritted teeth, eyes flashing.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

“Yes you do,” you said. “You know exactly what I mean. I know exactly who you are, Henry. I know exactly what you do and you will not do it to that girl, do you understand me?”

“I think you forget which of us is in charge here,” he said, his face shifting. He wasn’t amused anymore, he was angry. Joel stiffened. “Maybe you need a reminder but I fucking own you, sweetheart.”

“Not anymore you don’t,” you said, holding your ground.

“Yes, I do,” he said. “You’d be nothing without me and I could fucking bury you without even trying…”

“Could you?” You cut him off. “Because I remember you trying that before and here I am, the most bankable fucking star in this goddamn town. You think I’d just disappear quietly? That you can intimidate me? I’m not a kid you can push around anymore, Henry, I’m not a fucking Barbie you can play dress up with I’m an entire goddamn industry and I will burn you to the fucking ground if you lay a finger on that girl.”

“You couldn’t shove me out before,” he sneered. “Do you really think you could do it now? Some stupid girl who’s barely got a fucking high school diploma and you think you can push me around? I could buy and sell you 100 times over, sweetheart, and…”

“And no one outside this fucking city knows your name,” you said, chin out. “Go after her and I will eviscerate you in the press, I’ll spill all your dirtiest little secrets.”

“And take yourself down with me?” He asked, brows raised. “I don’t think so.”

“What’s that they say about a woman scorned?” You asked. “Don’t try me, Henry. The entire world cares what I have to say. Do you think they give a shit about some old man who sits behind a desk?”

He just narrowed his eyes at you and you smirked.

“That’s what I thought,” you said. “She’s under my protection, understood? You will stay the fuck away from her or you’ll find out just how far I’m willing to go. And I hear about you taking your little one on one meetings with other girls? I will burn you down.”

You turned to leave but Wilde grabbed your arm, yanking you back hard enough that it made you stumble and something inside Joel snapped.

He moved quickly, putting his body between you and the other man. Wilde’s eyes went wide and Joel grabbed his arm, wrenching it away from yours before shoving him back.

“Keep your fuckin’ hands to yourself,” Joel growled, pressing in closer to the man, forcing him to back up until he was pressed against the window.

He watched Wilde’s expression shift from shock to righteous indignation.

“You don’t know who you’re messing with, son,” he said. “I recommend you step back and let your client and myself handle this.”

“You put a hand on her,” Joel said, the strangely foreign yet familiar heat of rage roiling beneath his skin. He had to fight to not put this fucker through the window. “My job to take that hand off. Whether it’s just off her or off you, too, is your choice.”

“I pay your fucking salary,” he tried to shove Joel and failed, his hands all but bouncing off Joel’s chest in a way that would be comical if Joel wasn’t so ready to put him in the ground. Joel shoved his arm into Wilde’s throat, pinning him to the window.

“Pretty sure it ain’t your name on my goddamn check,” Joel said. “And even if it were, I’m paid to keep her safe from threats. You’re a threat. Try that shit again and you’ll see just why I got the job I do.”

Joel stepped back, letting the other man stumble forward before he turned to look at you.

“You alright?” He asked. You nodded once, your hand covering your elbow where Wilde’s hand had just been. “Good. You done here?”

“Yeah,” you said, looking at Wilde as he straightened his blazer. “I’m done.”

Joel just gave you a nod and he put his hand on the small of your back as you headed back toward the lobby.

The second you were out the door, your breathing picked up, panicked and trembling.

“You’re OK,” Joel said quietly, guiding you quickly for the elevator and looking back over his shoulder to make sure Wilde wasn’t following. “Just keep moving, I’ve got you.”

You nodded quickly and Joel pushed the call button, thankful the elevator doors opened almost immediately. He ushered you inside and pushed the button for the ground floor but, as soon as it started to move he pulled the emergency stop and turned to face you, your eyes wide, hands trembling.

“What…” your voice trailed off, breaths still coming in scared little pants.

“Think you’re having a panic attack,” Joel said. “Or somethin’ like it, anyway. Bought us some time so none of those assholes see it happening, just take a deep breath for me Siren, alright?”

You nodded quickly and closed your eyes, taking a shuddering but deep breath.

“There you go,” he said gently. “You’re doing good baby, hold that for a second.”

You nodded, clenching your eyes shut tighter but obeying all the same. Joel counted for a few seconds.

“Alright, let it out nice and slow,” he said. “Focus on it, get all the air out.”

You obeyed, not shaking quite as badly now.

“Good,” he said when you finished. “Again, in, deep and slow.”

He guided you through it a few more times until your trembling stilled and your eyes opened again, looking at him all open and honest.

“You OK?” He asked, reaching out and cupping your cheek before he could stop himself. You nodded into his palm. “Ready to see other people?”

“Yeah,” you said, taking a deep breath again. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“You got any other meetings today?” Joel asked gently.

“Um,” you closed your eyes for a moment, brows knitting together in concentration before you opened them again. “Just Quinn and Leo but…”

“Think they’ll let you cancel?” Joel asked. His hand was still on your skin and his heart was racing. “So we can get you home?”

“Yeah,” you nodded quickly. “Yeah, Quinn will understand, she… she knows.”

“OK,” Joel said. He knew he should take his hand back but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Your eyes stayed locked on his and he felt a pull at the root of him, a drive to bring your body against his own and press his lips to yours. He tried to shake that feeling as you leaned into him but he couldn’t, he just forced himself to stand stock still as you moved to be against him, your face tucking below his chin and burying in his shirt. He moved slowly, cautiously, to hold you, your body warm and soft against him. Joel cradled you there, focusing on you, trying to ignore the feeling that you weren’t quite close enough.

After what felt like no time at all you stepped back, giving your head a small shake and taking another deep breath.

“Thank you,” you said quietly, staring at his chest instead of really looking at him. “You didn’t have to do that and… thank you.”

“Sure,” Joel said gruffly before reaching around you to start the elevator again.

By the time the two of you reached the ground floor, you looked like yourself again, a sense of power in you when the doors slid open. Quinn was waiting for you, looking you up and down.

“All good?” She asked.

“Yeah,” you said quickly. “Catherine make it down OK?”

“Yeah,” Quinn nodded. “We’ve got her, she’s fine.”

“Good,” you said. “Are they still here?”

“No,” Quinn said. “I sent them home…”

“What did you say?” You frowned, brows drawing together.

“Nothing extreme,” Quinn said quickly, her eyes darting to Joel. “I told Margie to never let Catherine take a meeting alone, ever. She’s talented, there are a lot of people who might want to not give her what’s she’s due, she needs to have representation.”

“Good,” you nodded, taking a deep breath. “OK. If it’s alright with you, can we push our…”

“Of course,” Quinn said quickly. “I’ll talk to Leo. You get home, take a hot bath, just… take it easy. I’ll see you in the morning, alright?”

“Yeah,” you smiled tightly at her before pulling her in for a hug. “Thank you.”

You were silent on the drive home, staring determinedly out the window, your hand over your mouth the entire way, the presence of the driver forcing him to bite his tongue. When you got there, you didn’t wait for Joel to come around and open your door, instead jumping out the second the car stopped and, normally, he’d yell at you for that. It was reckless and stupid and your total lack of care for your own safety drove him insane but, this time, he just followed after you.

“Hey,” he said gently once you were both inside.

“Thanks for your help, Joel,” you said, rushing past him you toward your room. “I appreciate it.”

He sighed, watching you leave, wishing there was something he could do to help you even if he didn’t fully understand what he wanted to help you with.

But he couldn’t bring himself to hide in his room the way he so often did where you were involved. Instead, he hovered in the main part of the house, hoping that you’d come out.

He tried to tell himself it was because he needed to know if you were alright for professional purposes. The convention was tomorrow. If you weren’t going, he’d need to know. If you were, he’d need to know how likely it was that you’d do something reckless, whether or not you’d remember emergency procedure, if you would pay close enough attention to know when something odd happened. That was an acceptable reason for his concern. Not that he could admit the real one even to himself.

It was late when he started debating stretching out on the couch so he would hear you if you got up in the night when you appeared, in an oversized robe and bare feet and you startled then when you saw him. There was something keenly vulnerable about you like this, an odd intimacy in your dewy skin and open expression.

“Joel,” you said quietly, your hand covering your heart. “Sorry, I…”

“You really apologizing for being in your own house?” He asked, brows raised.

You smiled a little and laughed once.

“I guess so,” you said, crossing your arms, looking a little more like yourself when you did. “You’re up late.”

He shrugged.

“So are you.”

“Yeah, well…” you looked down at your feet for a moment. “I was going to eat something…”

“It alright if I join you?” He asked before he could stop himself.

“Of course,” you said, meeting his eyes and giving him a tight smile.

He trailed behind you to the kitchen and worked silently alongside you, taking your unspoken direction as you pulled deli meat and cheese and vegetables out of the fridge, piling them on the counter. He even followed you to the pantry, where you got out bread and chips and then froze, a bag dangling from your hand. You were staring at your Oscar where it still sat from the last time you were in town, tucked away at the back of a shelf.

“C’mon,” Joel said, putting a gentle hand on your shoulder and you let him guide you back to the counter.

He watched you out of the corner of his eye as you made a sandwich, almost overly focused on the process of spreading mustard on bread and layering it with turkey and lettuce and sliced tomato. When you were done, you put some carrots on your plate, grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and sat at the bar. But you just stared down at your plate more than anything else, pushing a carrot from side to side and watching it roll. Joel finished making his sandwich and sat beside you. He took a bite - more out of pretense than anything else - before finally looking at you.

“Wanna talk about it,” he said more than asked.

“Not especially,” you replied, pushing the carrot again, watching it wobble on the china.

He was quiet for a moment.

“Meant what I said when I told you I’d protect you, even from him,” Joel said eventually.

You stared at the plate.

“I know,” you said.

“Helps when I know what I’m protecting you from,” he said.

You looked at him then, with that sharp and exacting gaze of yours, like you were seeing through everything to the core of him. All the walls that had built up after the loss of his child, all the protection he’d put into place the first time he met you, all of it meant nothing now.

You looked down at your plate again, your hands drawing into tight fists, the flesh straining over the bone of your knuckles.

“Everything they say about me is true,” you said, your voice thick.

Joel frowned.

“What do…”

“That I fucked my way to the top,” you said. “That I wouldn’t be where I was if I didn’t spread my fucking legs, it’s all true.”

Joel was silent, his jaw clenched tight and you laughed bitterly.

“It’s not because I wanted to,” you said, still staring at your food. “You can judge me all you want, I don’t care, but I didn’t have much choice. I owed a lot of people a lot of money and the only way I could get the job that would pay me enough to take care of it was…”

Your voice trailed off and Joel frowned.

“Owed…” he paused. “Do you mean when… when you were a kid, when your mother…”

“Yeah,” you said, clenching your fist tighter, and Joel’s stomach turned. You finally looked at him then, your eyes wide, a desperate, pleading edge to them. “I made a trade. I did what I had to do. But I know what it’s like to be a teenaged girl in a world full of men and I know what it’s like when the only bargaining chip you have is between your thighs and I know what it’s like to be backed into a fucking corner by Henry fucking Wilde and I will not let that happen to that girl, I don’t care if it’s the last thing I fucking do.”

“Did you tell anybody?” Joel asked weakly, searching your face.

“Who was there to tell?” You asked, brows raised. “I didn’t even fully understand what happened until years later, after we dated because I was stupid enough to pretend like there was something romantic about it. I kept telling myself that he must have really loved me to have wanted me then. But really all he wanted was someone young, someone he could control and when I stopped letting him control me after the Oscars… When we broke up I very famously fucked half of Hollywood while I got dropped by my manager and my agent and no one would touch me with a 10-foot-pole because he controlled all of it, they all answered to him. It would have been my word against his, the impulsive, entitled starlet crashing out because her powerful boyfriend broke up with her. No one would have believed me.

“If it wasn’t for Quinn just getting started and clawing her way up from nothing and desperate to take on a client, I never would have worked again. No one would represent me, no one wanted to work with me. She got me Siren and I took a lot of shit on that fucking job but it was a job. It helped me stay relevant while everything else blew over. It’s not like I could do anything else because Henry was right about that, too. It’s not like I went to college, the degree I have barely even counts as a high school diploma. I’m not sure I could have gotten a job at McDonalds back then. This is all I know how to do.”

You looked back at your plate and took a deep, shaky breath.

“I hate that I put Catherine in his orbit. I hate that he’s on this fucking movie,” you said softly. “I hate having to answer to him again. I have a lot more power now than I did before but… He’s right. He owns me.”

“No, he doesn’t,” Joel said and you looked at him. “He can want to all he damn well pleases but that don’t make it true. May not have known you very long but I know this much about you: No one owns you but you.”

You laughed a little and sighed.

“He must have something on me that I’m forgetting about,” you said. “Something in his back pocket that he’s ready to make public and burn me down. I don’t think he will now that he’s producing Savage Starlight - at least not right this minute - but just the thought that he’s sitting there, ready to destroy my life…”

Joel shrugged.

“Fuck ‘em,” he said. You frowned at him. “It’d be shit but you’d have Ellie and Elise and…” He trailed off. “You’d have the shit that matters is what I’m saying. And if that fucker ever touches you again, I’m gonna put him on his ass.”

You smiled, laughing darkly, before sighing and leaning into him, catching him off guard. You were between his legs, your head nuzzled into his shoulder, the warmth of your breath on his throat. He swallowed, a knot in his throat, and put his arms around you.

“I think you were brave for doin’ what you did,” he said quietly. “Catherine… she’s lucky she has you. I’m sorry you didn’t have that when you were her age. You deserved better than you got.”

“Thanks,” you said softly. “That… that means a lot.”

He held you like that for a while before you sat up from him, taking a drink of your water, and Joel watched for a moment as you took a bite of your sandwich before he, eventually, ate alongside you in silence. When you were done, you went to put your dish in the dishwasher but he stopped you.

“I got it,” he said and you frowned. “You had a shit day. I can… S’fine.”

“Thanks,” you smiled tightly at him. “I… Thanks for not… Thanks for treating me like a person about it. Not everyone would.”

He just nodded slowly.

“Course. See you in the morning, Siren.”

“See you in the morning, Big Miller.”

He watched you go and sat there on his own in silence, trying not to linger on what you’d told him. He cleaned up your kitchen and, before going to his room, he went to the pantry and picked up your Oscar. He had to do something to take care of you, he couldn’t help it. The trophy was heavy in his hand and he carried it to his room, tucking it at the back of the closet where he could protect you from having to see it again.

Next Chapter

A/N: Joel and Siren are getting closer! If Joel's not careful he's going to realize that she's a real person he's got feelings for and not some ethereal being who is so far out of reach she may as well be an alien and who KNOWS what'll happen then 👀

Thank you for reading! I hope you're enjoying reading these two as much as I've enjoyed writing them.

Love you!

Taglist: @christinamadsen @eff4freddie @brittmb115 @copperhalfcent @r3dheadedwitch @pedropascalsbbg @lovelyjess69 @yopossum @moel-jiller @picketniffler @lilyevanstan1325 @reluctanthalfwayoptimism @wintersquirrel @missladym1981 @mellymbee @canthinkof1user @inept-the-magnificent @secretlyangelic @pedrobae @scarletsloveletter @phry-k @sunnytuliptime

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x oc #tsats #the savage and the sanctuary #bodyguard!joel #bodyguard au

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 1 year ago

Note

AITA for debating hiring outside help for my husband and I's house because we can't keep up alone?

For context: My (26 Fae ftm) husband (28M) live very happy and healthily together. While I'm unable to medically transition due to a bunch of reasons we'll get to, he has been nothing but a solid rock in my life and the one person that has always been on my side. Through dragging me out of an abusive household to helping me with my chronic illness, he's been an absolute angel despite dressing like the devil himself (he's goth). So I don't want any hate on him.

He is ADHD and I'm Autistic. Yes, hello, we are that couple~♡ This does cause us some issues tho as he is unmedicated and I'm just struggling in general with sensory issues for certain chores. So far we keep each other some what afloat, having him do chores that my sensory issues can't handle and my doing ones he can't focus through.

However, as previously mentioned I'm chronically ill. I won't get into many details but it's basically I'm internally bleeding at random intervals. And before people think I'm talking about just my period, no it's so bad that I have once had to go to the ER for a blood transfusion due to this internal bleeding and had times when I was bleeding for over 4 months straight.

My husband and I because of this condition are pretty much struggling financially. I can work but it makes me extremely fatigued since I'm essentially working with constant Anemia. It gets bad enough some days that he can't wake me up without over an hour of effort, even after I've slept 10hrs. The fatigue is REALLY bad. He works just as much as I do, sometimes more because his work is so shortstaffed and he likes to pick up extra shifts to try and save up for the surgery that would hopefully fix everything.

This has culminated though in us both being extremely exhausted near 24/7 for the last year-ish but we have finally hit a break. I recently got a huge pay increase (nearly $200 a week increase) so we are hopeful for the first time in months. We're starting to pay down my extreme medical debt and being able to just go get dinner when he doesn't want to cook.

Here's where I may be kind of TA... Despite this hope, my condition recently did get worse. I've now gone another 3 months still bleeding and having to suffer my Anemia symptoms and medication. This has caused me to fall massively behind on what should be my chores, and while my husband doesn't begrudge me it, it has caused our home to start becoming very, very unhygienic. As someone who grew up with a clean freak mother, it kinda upsets me. He's focusing more and more on me and less on the house so even his chores are falling behind too.

None of that is his fault. He loves me so much he wants to help Me first but it has gotten to where we are both going "we really need to clean the house..." but neither of us have enough battery to do so. Me becuz of my condition and he becuz he's stuck caring for me.

We have enough that we might be able to afford to hire a cleaning service to help us out, but it would cost us some of the freedom and paying down medical bills. I think it'd only be a temporary thing, once I recover from my current episode, we can probably get better... but I don't know how long it will be.

On top of this I'm worried paying for this service will further put off my surgery as we struggle to save up for it again... We've already had to tap into that savings cuz my current episode lost me 2 days at work.

Is it unfair for me to ask to use our new extra money for essentially my not wanting to have to bother doing basic chores? I know I'm tired but I've lived with it so long I could and should probably just push through.

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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tedsbogusjourney · 4 months ago

Text

Gamble

Guard!Ted "Theodore" Logan X Player!fem!reader genre : angst a/n: this is a Squid Game AU. It randomly came into my mind when I was watching an episode of season 2 yesterday.

Ted Logan’s mind was all over the place. He wanted to avoid your worried eyes, he’d always hated that expression on your face. If he were some sadist, he'd have relished every second of it. Yet, he was not. He knew he was soft. His father never missed any opportunity to remind him that. A frustrated frown etched in his features. He couldn't bear the thought nor the sight of you being in such distress, especially in such a stupid game. He removed his guard helmet, planting his deep honey brown eyes into yours, dark brown bangs grazing his pale skin in the process. Then, he read shock and surprise on your face as you brought one shaking hand to your lips, your form shaky.

“...Please, don't be afraid. It's just me.”

How could he explain it to you? That he wasn’t just here for himself, but for Bill too? Bill had gotten tangled in some bad deals, owing a debt so massive that Ted couldn’t see a way out for his best friend. Bill always had a knack for dreaming big, but this time, those dreams had dragged him into danger. Ted couldn’t stand the thought of losing him, not just because Bill was the other half of Wyld Stallyns, but because without Bill, life felt hollow. Joining the game was his way of fixing everything, even if it meant risking his own life in the process. He was broke, a college dropout and his father hated him even more than back then he was a high school teen. He was a failure. Money felt like the only answer to all his problems. Ted wanted to pursue that mission till the end for the reward to have a semblance of life.

“How could you-”

Was the only thing you could muster, feeling shaken to the core as you unconsciously took a step back. He suddenly approached you, cupping your face gently as he felt the wetness of your tears, ignoring the hurt in your eyes.

“I had to do this, for Bill. He’s in trouble, and I can’t just sit back and let him lose everything!

A silence went on.

“I will do everything to make you escape…You have to quit that game. Or else you'll die,” he said in a low tone, almost in a whisper.

Your breath hitched as you shook your head, plunging your teary eyes into his. His calloused hands felt soft and reassuring against your face despite the circumstances. You needed that money too, to save your sick mother. He gave you the same puppy look he usually gave you whenever he felt upset. He searched for a flicker of hope in your gaze but found only the weight of your own battles.

“I can’t leave,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “Not while she still has a chance.”

Ted swallowed hard, his hands trembling slightly against your skin. He knew you were talking about your mother, and he knew, even more, that no words could convince you to run.

“Then I’ll stay,” he said at last, his voice laced with newfound determination.

You shook your head firmly, but he suddenly pressed his forehead to yours, his warm breath brushing against your cheek as you took in his familiar, soft scent.

“I’ll stay… and I’ll protect you,” he insisted, a sad smile softening his tired features.

Your heart clenched, torn between wanting to scream at him to leave and the brutal comfort of his presence. The alarms echoed faintly in the distance, a grim promise, but in this suspended moment, there was only the two of you in that dim, dark, abandoned hallway. During his time here, he had learned the layout of the place and all its hidden spots.

“Ted…” you began, but he gently cut you off.

“Wyld Stallyns,” he murmured, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “We’re gonna need you to write our best song. ”

And as his words sparked the faintest glimmer of hope, the darkness of the game seemed to close in tighter around you both. Ted hesitated for a moment, his deep honey-brown eyes scanning your tear-streaked face as if memorizing every detail. His calloused thumb brushed your cheek, and before you could say anything, he leaned in, closing the space between you.

His lips were soft, warm, trembling slightly against yours, a mix of desperation and tenderness that made your breath catch. The kiss was fleeting but full of unspoken promises, as if it were his way of saying everything he couldn’t put into words.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I’m not letting you face this alone.”

#ted logan #ted theodore logan #bill and ted #keanu reeves #husband #keanuverse #reader insert #fic #fanfic #my writing #squid game au #angst #fluff #keanu reeves x reader #ted logan x reader #bill & ted #I LOVE HIM SM #editing fics on this website is so annoying omg #dying thinking about him thank god im working from home tomorrow🥲🥲🥲

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lizaluvsthis · 17 days ago

Note

Will you ever do that hyperfixation thing again?

No yes no yes no

Y e s .

(Spoilers incoming)

So we see in this movie brought everyone to their high expectations and parts where they get to see the dad of three. More importantly when it came to Mr. WPNZ himself trying to get the 'act of dad' and have a father-kids bonding moment spent the rest of those minutes or two.

For what completely shocked everyone is the triplets finally activating their weapons that we thought they would never have. It is to expect the least due to them being Mr. WPNZ's kids, it is possible to gain genetics coming from their bio father.

These kids are unfortunately too young to know how the real world works, so all Karen like any other mother to keep her children safe. Is to protect them from harm. Thats the reason why she covered alot from mr. WPNZ's story about all the bad stuff in order to avoid the real truth that she was an assasin. (For a code name to reveal was Katana)

And ofcourse the kids would choose a dumb decision over their mother, because they're kids. Kids are yet to be developed by any knowledge, although to this point, we can't exactly blame them for that. Karen is the only single parent who runs the house and a job on her own to pay debts and bills. She atleast did everything to provide for her kids without monitoring them from time to time due to her being busy at work. Its also the reason how we see her working in several jobs at each other episodes explaining that later on its all for the hardwork.

And I dont think Mr. WPNZ thought much about what he did after being gone for years and not being around the kids, but he'd gone through his job thinking all he did was for THEM. But WPNZ didn't know anything about it, if I had to say somethings I could say he's a good father. In some ways he's really good at making his kids happy and good at parenting.

Theres just times when he's really irritated he'd get to the point of snapping out over something immature, thats because he doesn't KNOW how to maintain emotions. To the point he got so emotionally torn apart after hearing katie call him Dad the very first time.

He knew he wasn't even there when the first time the kids were born, he was never present from all the life spent and only he'd been watching them from afar.

It's the only thing we mightve thought is either:

A - Mr. WPNZ wanted to go for the job with killing people.

B - he never thought that having kids would make his relationship with karen confusing or nonetheless, unprepared.

We thought from that moment on, Mr. WPNZ is just misunderstood. He was partners in crime with Katana (Karen) from the very first, a form of their relationship worked pretty fine. What Mr. WPNZ placed into his own hands were to prioritize the mission and Katana.

But he let Katana slip off, maybe something happened? Maybe he didn't want to lose the job he'd been dying for? Could be possible, Katana was pregnant and having labor at the most possible cases, WPNZ is supposed to be with her side. But the mission mattered more.

Karen had every right to be angry for WPNZ not being there. And even after, he was never around she continued to live a good and better life raising her kids WITHOUT him, thinking it was a good thing that he left.

Mr. WPNZ thinks that kids of his own can be tools or to be used by something simple as that. It's because he never developed a bond with a kid before, if we get to recall one thing and its about them being on missions. With all the bussiest stuff, mr. WPNZ never engaged to social interractions but more further into commiting mass murder and/or arson around their block. I do not think he had any time to get to know to himself nor even get to know what the actual HIM even wanted for once in his life.

Sure, he went off to missions and he enjoyed that part with all the killing. But had he ever thought about what he actually wanted? He looks like he's the one to act before even thinking. That surely turned out well for him. To say the least, he still has to respect the kids decisions its not his own choice eitherway its the kids they were talking about.

Without any further more yapping session in this post, I suppose WPNZ can be good at parenting, he can be forgiven by karen at somethings. But he needs time to adjust whaytever the pissy things he's dealing with.

Also hey, Mario just foreshadowed mr. Puzzles appearing out of nowhere in the final seconds of the movie! (actually, why would mario try eating an oven-)

Gay gay yaoi - mr wpnz x mr puzzles is getting popular and I love it XD they're two villains being a silly bean. I can't wait to see how mr puzzles and mr WPNZ'S friendship dynamic in the other episode after this.

I want to strangle them guys, refrain me from tdoing so or I will go rampage.

#lizaluv #lizafixates #smg4 #smg4 mr puzzles #smg4 mr wpnz #mr wpnz #smg4 wpnz #karen smg4 #smg4 katie

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thedepthsoffandomminds · 1 year ago

Text

Episode ten - paper

Jack Dawkins x fem reader.

Jack's eyes opened slowly, the room around him was dark. He was on the ground and pain clamped at his chest.

"What's going on?" He asks into the darkness. Footsteps tapping against the damp stone floor.

"Oh weren't sure if you'd wake up, you're losing a lot of blood. My lad hasn't quite learnt how to stab and not kill just yet." The voice felt familiar to Jack.

"Bill?" He says. The man laughs. The rope around Jack's wrist tugs and begins to lift him until jack's feet barely touch the floor.

"No, no my brother is well and truly dead, that Oliver Twist really got him good. Still, little toff is in prison himself now. Sweet justice." He laughed again.

"What?" Jack was finding it hard to keep up.

"Oh, I'm just here getting a little payback. You're collateral damage as they say." He laughed again. Jack felt him come too close, the stink of his breath assaulting his nostrils.

"I never did anything to Bill or you!" Jack strains against the pain from his knife wound.

"Oh I ain't got problems with you, but you dying sure as hell will hurt the people I hate." The man laughed again, slamming his fist into Jack's stomach.

*_*_*_*

"lady y/n, what on earth do you think you are doing?" Sneed questions entering your room.

"I have to help Fagin find Jack" you say, pulling your dressing gown on over your nightdress.

"Find Jack, he only just got back, what happened to him?"

"He was kidnapped, last night. It looks like he was hurt. We have to find him." You say taking your sister's arm.

"And you were just going to let her run off? Y/n has just had heart surgery!" He asked Belle. She tilted her head in a shrug.

"Do you think we could stop her?" She shot back at him.

"At least put on some clothing. If you insist on charging around Port Victory your corset will help keep you together." Sneed sighed. You held his hand.

"thank you, thank you Rainsford."

Belle helps you into a simple white cotton dress, forgoing the hooped crinolines. The corset felt foreign after being in bed for so long. Though you had to admit it was making your chest feel a little easier. You don't bother to put up your hair, choosing instead to simply tie back the front.

When ready you make your way down to the morgue where Fagin waited for you. Aputi, Flashbang, Tim and Red are with him.

"Do we know anything yet?" You ask.

Fagin shakes his head.

"We've heard nothing. Not a dot." He admits.

"That isn't true." You spin heating your father's voice behind you.

"Father?" You take his outstretched hand.

"It appears this is all my fault." He says, leaving a folded slip of paper in the air. You snatch the paper from his hand.

"Governor Fox, you may recall Lord Branwell. You have debt with him and I have come to collect. Arthur Sikes." You read aloud.

"Sikes?" Fagin turns white, "Oh that family is like a bad smell, they always come back."

"Father what did you do?"

Edmund sighs, "Many years ago during my military days I had command of Lord Branwell's son. A fine chap really if not a little wild. Branwell always blamed me for his death"

You put your hand on his shoulder.

"It's alright father, we will deal with this. Surely he will want money and we have plenty." You say.

"No, if I know the Sikes this isn't about money."

*_*_*_*

Jack pulls against the rope holding him up. His fingertips were already beginning to turn blue.

"If killing me is the point why not just do it?" He coughs out.

"Well no need to be boring. We all like to have a little fun in our work. Plus seeing old Fagin's face when he sees your mutilated body will be fun." Arthur bit into an apple as he talked.

"So it is a little about him then?" Jack says between heavy breaths.

Arthur kicks his foot, knocking the tied rope. It uncurls and skids until Jack hits the floor, face first. Blood quickly starts dripping from his forehead. Joining the wounds that now littered his body. Stomping across the room Arthur grabbed Jack's shirt and shoved him onto his back. Crouching over him.

"You know, it isn't really you that I want, I just know having you will bring one Fox's kids here. Then he'll learn what it is to lose a son."

"Fox doesn't have a son." Jack says.

"a daughter then. I hear one of them is quite taken with you." He laughs again. "now how about we choose something to send to them? A finger? The whole hand? And ear? A foot? Hmm? What about your baby maker?" He laughs again, showing his rotten teeth and twirling a knife between his fingers.

"No, please" Jack began to beg.

"a toe then, we'll start small." Arthur pulled Jack's shoe from his foot, sliding the blade between his toes.

"No."

A door opened somewhere behind Jack and a voice called to Arthur. He grabbed Jack's face around the jaw.

"I guess this will have to wait. See you soon, Jacky boy." He shoved Jack's face before rushing away.

"What is it?" He growls at the smaller man.

"the whole town is looking for him. We're done for."

*_*_*_*

"Where has she gone?" Edmund bellowed through the hospital.

"We don't know. She was looking at the paper and then she just took off!" One of the recoats explained.

You had slipped from the hospital and we're making your way through the streets of the town. The dirt scratching against your bare feet. Your sister knew very much about the body, Jack was impressively good at surgery but you, you knew about paper. Seemingly dull to many but upon arriving in Port Victory you had familiarised yourself with each type of paper available to you. Only one was made within the town limits. A basic sheet, thicker than that shipped from England. It had little wooden flecks throughout it, picked up from the sawdust that littered the factory floor. This had to be where they were keeping Jack and you knew exactly where to go.

The cut on your chest pulled at your skin as you walked. You had to ignore it and find him. If you told anyone else your theory they would send an army to the door and that ran the risk of Jack being killed.

You hear a bell being rung and know they have discovered your absence, leaving you little time.

The factory was not a large one, and was connected to a boarding house. You knew it would be stupid to walk in through the front door. Looking around you see a window on the upper floor. You climb the wooden steps on the boarding to balcony and climb onto the railings. You slip, catching your dress underfoot. Grumbling you unclasp it and let the garment fall to the ground, leaving you in just your bloomers, corset and short chemise. Able to move more freely you climb back up and throw yourself across to the small ledge under the window. The bump catches your breath and you're sure you feel something catch below your corset. You pull yourself up and slip into the window, there is an old wooden platform that you stand on. It is filled with old boxes. You hide behind them, doing your best to move quietly. You see Jack lying in the ground and your heat breaks.

A fast sweep of the room tells you he is alone so you slowly make your way down the steps and across the floor.

"Jack?" You touch his face, then check his body. The wound on his chest looked angry.

"Jack, Jack come on you have to wake up." You whisper to him, tapping his face to rouse him. When his eyes finally open he looks up at you. Fear crossed his eyes.

"No, Y/n you shouldn't be here! You have to go. Now!"

You ignore him and u tie his hands.

"can you stand?" You ask. He nods and the two of get up.

"Wait, y/n you have blood on you." He says pressing his hand to your chest.

"Perhaps it's yours." You say, once again ignoring the sting of pain below the corset, "come on we have to go quickly." You pull his arm around your shoulders and start to direct him towards the doors.

"This was silly, you should not have come here." Jack chastised you.

"No she definitely should not have." Arthur's foot kicks into the back of your knees sending both you and Jack to the ground. He drags you backwards by your ankles. No matter how you claw at the floor you cannot stop him. Jack struggles to move as two other men grab at him.

"Here you go my Lord. Just in time for you to watch it." Arthur grabs you by the hair and yanks you back. You meet eyes with a pompously large man who laughs, pouring a glass of wine.

Episode eleven

@fandomfan-102 @darasloves @afalls14universe

#jack dawkins x y/n #jack dawkins x reader #jack dawkins #the artful dodger x reader

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scrumptiousstuffs · 10 months ago

Text

Wandee Goodday Episode 8

In which we have many confessions (both wanted and unwanted), further (mis)communications and the sweetest proposal scene in BL land.

First thing, YeiCher owned this episode. These 2 just complement each other superbly. I’m sure we will see some conflict down the road with Yei hiding the debt of their boxing gym from Cher, but for now, I’m basking in joy with the fact we have YeiCher being formally engaged in a timely fashion to commerate with the Thai senate officially passing the bill to allow marriage equality in real life!

As for our YakDee…I’m a bit confused. Look, I am thrilled they made up quickly - Yak giving back that ugly necklace (it’s not to my aesthetic taste but I am definitely glad it made it back to Dee’s neck!), Dee informing Yak he no longer has any feelings for Dr Terrible plus Yak sweetly informing Dee “this hottest and most dashing boxer is yours.��

So…WHY ARE THEY STILL IN A FAKE BF relationship?? I initially thought I might have misunderstood the whole thing. However, when Dee asked Yak to accompany him to the hospital anniversary ball - Yak said “again?” And Dee saying otherwise he would accept Dr Terrible invitation to the ball.

And what made it clear these 2 adorkable idiots have yet to re-define their relationship properly is the conversation between Dee and his wise grandmother - she sensibly asked whether YakDee is still just FWB? And Dee said there is a dateline to their relationship? Maybe someone who is cleverer than me can explain this? - is it cause Dee is angling for the scholarship and thought he would have to leave Yak anyway??

Cause why will you cook for him, dry his hair, massage his aching legs in front of the whole gym, learn how to slow dance, take him to a fancy costume place and pick up a matching grooms outfit if you are both not in love with each other???

Despite my confusion about their relationship status, I did love the whole ballroom scene - from Yak dashing in last minute in time to ask for his prince for the dance, YakDee slow dancing and Yak finally confessing in words that he is in love with Dee. Does that mean they will finally be real boyfriends next episode? (Although from the preview, they are STILL NOT together as real boyfriends?)

Dr Terrible remains shameless and desperate. If I’m not mistaken, Dee rejected him 3 times in this episode alone - when he indirectly decline Terrible’s invitation to the ball by expressing he will be bringing his significant other, saying no when Terrible said he will dance with Dee because of Yak non-presence at the ball. And when that did not deter Terrible (he tried to kiss Dee! 😤), Dee bluntly say he has outgrown Terrible and only regards him as an older brother. However, Terrible has yet to learn his lesson - he left his date (Dr Khwan you deserves better) to again try his luck with Dee. So, I’m glad it seems Dr Khawn left him after Yak timely arrival to save his prince from the evil clutch of Terrible.

As for Taemrak, I do feel bad for her. It’s clear now she does have some feelings for Yak. I think pre-Dee, Taemrak might have taken for granted of Yak’s friendship and affection for her. He was always there for her with his easy banter. But with Dee around, Yak no longer txt/msg/meet up with her beyond school. Nevertheless, I’m glad she still trust Yak to come for her aid (although I must say, what a plot twist - didn’t think Ohm will be so nasty. And Yak, couldn’t you have told Dee why you had to leave him suddenly before the ball??) Like I say, (mis)communication seems to be the theme of this episode.

Overall, I like the episode. I was hoping for more of Dr Kao though, but YeiCher sweet scenes made up for Dr Kao’s absence. And 2 big thumbs up 👍 from me for their ongoing PSA re: HPV vaccine! ❤️

Bring on episode 9!

#wandee goodday #episode 9 #yakdee #YeiCher #sweetest proposal ever #I will die for Cher #also for grandma #great sapol #inn sarin #thor thinnaphan #fluke nattanon #ployphach phatchatorn #aj chayapol #veeraporn nitiprapha #emi thasorn #podd suphakorn

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crow97street · 9 months ago

Text

─── ⋆⋅weeping under the willows⋅⋆ ───

synopsis ✦‧₊˚ chan has a bad day and then an even worse day when his mom has another drunk episode

warning/tags ✦‧₊˚ alcohol abuse, drinking, drunk people?, obsessive thoughts, arguing, crying, near panic attacks, mentions of past smoking, hurt/comfort, channie loves bin <3 AGAIN!!, channie and binnie are the cutest besties, highschool AU

notes ✦‧₊˚ hello folks🤗just another projection fic except it’s my daily life😍also yall chan’s mom is the sweetest ever like do not apply this to them at all i’m basically just using chans name

word count ✦‧₊˚ 2,489

song rec for this ;)

⋆ ̊。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ̊。⋆

“See ya hyung!” Jisungs cheerful voice echoes across the open field as Chan leaves school.

“See you Jisung-ah.” Chan hollers back as he slings his backpack onto his other shoulder. School was exhausting, as always. But today was somehow even more terrible than usual.

First, Chan was late to first period and luckily Mrs. Kim let him off with a slap on the wrist. He’s already been late and absent for way too many classes this year so God took his side today it seems.

Secondly, during lunch Chan spent his last few dollars on pineapple juice only to bump into some asshole quarterback, spilling it all over the cafeteria floor. The quarterback then proceeds to laugh at Chan, knock him in the shoulder, and run off. Chan wasn’t sure whether to laugh, cry, scream, or all of the above. Unfortunately Chan was forced to choose a fourth unlisted option: stay silent, clean up his emptied drink bottle and spill, then walk to his friends table like nothing happened. He’s forced to pick the unlisted fourth option a lot more than he admittedly wants to.

Finally, to top the day off with a big dollop of whip cream and sprinkles! Chan was skateboarding home, like he always fucking does every single goddamn day without issue, and he fucking crashed. Into someone’s dog. Truly today must have been some sort of fucking trial God decided to face him with. He’s just about to fail said trial if he doesn’t catch a break today, of course the dog had to be one of those small fragile little pussy dogs that scream bloody murder if you lightly graze their paw.

So that made for quite the scene when he ran his fucking skateboard into it. But he managed to escape by apologizing twelve hundred times to the dogs owner and offering to pay any vet bills that he definitely cannot afford. Thankfully the owner forgave him and he hightailed it out of there like something was chasing him, perhaps the clouding doom of debt and guilt was what made his foot push off the ground just a tad bit harder. Nonetheless Chan is home, and he is safe from the claustrophobic creatures that are other humans. Sometimes Chan wishes he were an animal, maybe a hawk? He could fly anywhere he wanted and doesn’t have to talk to anyone. Or maybe a wolf? More social with their packs and whatnot. Chan giggles to himself at the ridiuclous imagery of his friend group as a wolf pack. They unofficially-officially labeled their group the stray kids. Based off all of their similar backgrounds of dirty suburban neighborhoods and dysfunctional parents that fall into either the drunk line, or the drug line. Or maybe they throw in a plot twist and they fall into the narcissistic victim blaming parent. Anywho Chan is just happy to be fucking home.

He lets out a big sigh and allows his backpack to slide off his frame landing on the carpet with a loud ‘thunk’.

“Well fuck.” Chan just stands in the middle of his room trying to reel in his racing and screaming mind. After recollecting his humanity, he immediately begins stripping all his clothing off leaving himself in just his boxers and socks before flopping onto his bed bouncing a bit as he lands. He cannot wait to pass out, wake up at some ungodly hour of the night in a cold sweat from another very uncalled for nightmare, and stay up until he leaves for school to do it all again. Shit. His life sucks.

Chan moves his eyes from the chipped paint on his wall to his alarm clock, it reads 4:35. Huh. Enough time to visit his favorite place. Now, Chan’s favorite place is a bit.. strange, to be a favorite place. But people just don’t understand the tranquility of it all. Chan let’s out a humorous breath. Maybe the photography students would.

He counts down 10 seconds in his head before standing up in one fluid motion at 1, stumbling a little as his vision goes black from going too fast. He makes a face at the sweatpants lying on his floor before deciding fuck it and throwing them on along with a sleeveless loose top. He shakes his head and grabs his phone skipping down the stairs. As he rounds the corner silently he spots his mom pouring wine into her glass. Ah of course, well, good thing he’ll be gone most of the night and he’ll come home to her asleep in her bed and he can escape whatever shit she wants to spew to him that night.

Chan races out the front door after grabbing an apple tossing it in his hand. He shuts the door silently and slides his arm underneath the bar below his skateboard throwing it into the ground and hopping on. At least at the end of the day he’s got his skateboard. He glances down at the board fondly before pushing off again. Hyunjin painted the bottom of the board for him for his birthday many years ago and the paints only chipped and faded the smallest amount. He likes to tell everyone it’s Hyunjin’s magical being that kept the paint so pristine. He asked him to paint a weeping willow tree with blood on the ends of the leaves. Hyunjin gave him a questioning glance at the time of the request but painted it nontheless. Chan had been in love with it ever since and doesn’t go anywhere without his baby.

Chan smiles lightly as he reaches his spot and hops off the board ascending the overgrown hill. He reaches the tree and sighs. It’s a large weeping willow with its leaves touching the ground. Someone planted it years ago and anyone who comes across it has just labeled it as some sacred thing, which, yeah that makes Chan happy this tree is special. Chan continues his journey forward and swoops under the leaves and into the little cove the leaves provide. There’s an old ratty blanket and a basket of just random various items and Chan makes his way over. He put this blanket down when he was 7 years old and here it is still standing after 10 years. Even when it rained the blanket never took much damage due to the leaves acting as a shield.

Chan drops his body onto the dirty blanket letting out a loud groan. He gazes up into the heart of the tree admiring its beauty for awhile. He would never get sick of this place, when he had nobody he always had his weeping willow. Chan reached up and his hand came away wet. Oh. He’s crying. Chan never really cried, even as a child he’d just laugh off everything or put on a brave face, his body just never felt the need to expel tears. Seems today hit him harder than he thought, seeing as his vision is blurring and his chest is getting tighter. Fucking hell can he get his act together? This is stupid. Chan grunts and wipes his face with a frustrated groan - his groan was shaky and unstable but he won’t ever admit that.

“Fuuuuuuck.” Chan laughs at himself and sits up scrubbing his face and looking over into his bin of supplies. There’s a multitude of things in there ranging from an old american spirit box of cigarettes Chan smoked when he was younger - he pretty much quit, his life sucked enough there was no need to make it worse by giving himself some form of cancer - to an old wiltered flower that a small bunny delivered to him one day. He was 13 years old and his mom had one of her first drunk episodes, he didn’t know how to feel or how to handle the feelings he received from the way his mother acted that night. He felt like he was looking into the eyes of someone else, someone who wasn’t his mother. He even had bruised knees from falling onto the ground as he ran to this tree. A small white bunny appeared that evening and in it’s mouth was a tiny pink tulip, Chan smiled and accepted the flower as the bunny scampered off. Chan will never forget the tiny bunny that helped him that day.

Chan shakes his head once more to clear his thoughts, damn he was really just reliving everything tonight wasn’t he. At this point he’s posing the question is the tree weeping or is he? Chan shakes his head at his absolute corny inner monologue. He lets his mind go numb for awhile.

A leaf lands on his face and he blinks a few times before lifting his wrist. 9:57 his watch blinks at him. Oh. Oh. Chan’s eyes widen comically before he jumps onto his feet. He stumbles and races down the hill after grabbing his skateboard and taking off.

⋆ ̊。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ̊。⋆

The glow of his window shines brightly in the dim nightlife of the neighborhood. Chan glances at the front door. It’s definitely locked, his mom always locks it when she heads to bed. She never checks in on Chan anymore. He sighs and begins climbing the tree next to his window. He lands onto the short overhang roof and climbs into his window.

Chan strips down again and falls onto his bed. He feels sleep tug at his eyes until a loud crash outside his door jerks him back awake. Chan feels a cold sharpness grow and grow inside of his chest at the noise. This wasn’t how tonight was supposed to go. His mom was supposed to be asleep. Chan feels himself begin to tremble. He stands apprehensively and walks in slow motion to his bedroom door. It feels like the entire world has stopped and surrounded Chan to watch as his trembling fingers reach out for the knob. He decides to rip the bandaid off and flings the door open in one swift motion.

He’s greeted by his mom picking up books she scattered onto the floor. She smiles at him.

“Hey sweetie.” She speaks softly. Chan knows better.

“Hey mom, what did you do?” Chan hesitantly replies. Why is this affecting him so much? He’s done this so many times why is he even trembling? Chan internally groans at his betraying body.

His mom just laughs a bit and continues to pick up the books before standing. Inching closer to Chan.

“Where were you honey?” Chan could smell the familiar scent of alcohol across the room. He felt nauseous.

“Uh, just took my skateboard out.” Chan learned the trick was to be as vague as possible in situations like this. Don’t give her too many details to use against him later.

“Why aren’t you ever home anymore?” Her mood immediately darkens at the question.

“Just been um, busy, you know. With homework and hanging out with my friends.” Chan feels the crack of his dry throat as he swallows.

Chan feels his heart begin to beat faster under her gaze. He can’t pinpoint her emotion and it’s freaking him out a little.

“Oh. I see.” She sighs out. “It’s all my fault then.” Chan’s jaw opens at the sudden switch of her tone. Accusatory to, victimized? Chan feels fury ignite like a flame in his chest. He pushes it down with a shaky exhale.

“No, not your fault, just busy.” He gives her a lame excuse knowing she won’t listen to him anyway.

“So I don’t mean anything to you? You're too busy for me now, is that it?” She raises her voice slightly but it sounds like screaming to Chan’s ears. He feels dizzy.

“No, mom, I just told you school has been hard.” School has been totally fine. He doesn’t care though, he’ll do anything to escape this.

“Christopher, I am your mother.” She fixes him with a stern gaze and Chan feels himself crumble right back into his eight year old self.

“O-Okay mom I’m sorry, I’ll make more time for you.” Chan rushes it out of his mouth in one large exhale bringing his arms up to wrap around himself. A pathetic self soothing tactic he began doing.

Her expression instantly changes and she nods with a smile.

“Goodnight Chris.” She turns and heads into her bedroom as if nothing happened at all. Chan stands there for a few seconds before racing into his room, closing the door. He trips and falls onto his carpet floor with blurry vision. His chest grows tighter and tighter until he grips onto his shirt with white knuckles gasping for air.

His vision sways and black dots line his peripheral but he blindly reaches for his phone on his bed. His fingers find the object and he immediately taps the contact bringing the phone to his ear.

Ringing.

…

Ringing.

…

Ring-

“Hyung?” Changbin’s soothing voice echoes out the speaker of his phone. Chan’s entire body slacks.

“C-Changbin can you, um, can you c-come over?” Chan internally curses himself for stuttering and trembling like an idiot. But ultimately he’s too exhausted to care.

“Yeah of course, Channie-hyung what happened?” Changbin’s voice carries ounces of worry in it and Chan can hear the jingle of keys.

“Just please come.” Chan ends the call and drops his phone, wrapping his arms around himself again. He curls into the smallest ball he can and tries to fight the panic growing.

⋆ ̊。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ̊。⋆

He doesn’t know how long he sits there breathing in and out until he hears his window slide up. He snaps his head to the source of the noise and sees Changbin climbing in carefully. Changbin’s eyes find Chan’s sorrowful ones and his whole body deflates with sadness.

“Come here hyung.” Changbin opens his arms and sits on the rough carpet. Chan scrambles and falls as he rushes into Changbin’s arms. He shoves his head into the crook of Changbin’s neck and wraps his arms around his torso with a vice grip.

“Shh it’s okay, I’m here.” Changbin keeps his voice low and soft and Chan is insanely grateful for the small gesture. He snuggles in closer and allows his tears to soak into Changbin’s soft polyester t-shirt.

“Your mom again?” Changbin sighs out reaching a hand up to brush through Chan’s unruly curls.

“Mm-h-hm.” Chan releases a terrible shaky hum and nods his head slowly against Changbin.

“Oh, channie.” He squeezes Chan tighter and rests his cheek atop his bed of curls. The nickname always eases Chan a bit, it helps him let go and receive comfort more than an honorific would. Chan sniffles and feels his eyes grow heavy.

“Sleep channie, it’s alright I’ll be here.” Chan allows his eyes to close at Changbin’s words. His pulse slows and his breathing comes easier.

He drifts off to thoughts of how much he loves his best friend and the buzz of his old fan.

#bang chan #changbin #han jisung #hyunjin #stray kids #skz #skz fanfic #stray kids fanfic #bang chan fanfic #fanfic #not x reader #kpop #kpop fanfic #kpop boys #Spotify

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fruitless-vain · 11 months ago

Text

Oooooookay here comes the rant post

What happened: jacks old coworker had a series of unfortunate events happen that resulted in them being homeless and jobless. We offered a place to stay first month rent free while they get a job, $200 a month after the fact just to cover absolutely bare bones basics so they can save up and move out quickly. Started out with him putting on a great people pleasing act and quickly turned in to a nightmare.

Ye animal related rant list:

Given explicit instructions not to do xyz with Yoshis because she is a service dog that cannot get in to these bad habits. One moment I see him telling her to eat something off the floor, I pick up the item and politely tell him she’s not allowed to do that since scavenging while she’s on the job at a restaurant would get us kicked out. I reward her for not eating the thing, turn my back for two minutes just to hear him whispering “eat it, take it, you can have it” once again encouraging her to eat off the floor

Initially I was letting her follow him downstairs, whatever, dudes going through a bad time and a happy dog makes anyone better. Until I learned he had been feeding her HUGE doses of food off his plate I’m talking larger than her entire meal and was feeding things that are outright toxic for dogs. I only found that out because Yoshi would throw up in the middle of the night for seemingly no reason. Asked him and sure as shit feeding her toxic things.

Repeatedly got in the way of Yoshi retrieving medications as well as actively trying to distract her while she was doing DPT for a medical episode.

On the first day I told him it’s hormone season for the parrots they are aggressive and sensitive right now please just ignore them, don’t interact with them at all, it will make things so much worse and someone will get bit. A couple days later he taunts Newt by wagging his fingers in front of him deliberately trying to set him off, I immediately tell him to stop in a very stern sharp tone, he blatantly ignores me, I have to raise my voice to get this grown ass man to stop harassing Newt. This disregard resulted in Newt flipping so bad he is now totally unhandleable I have to wear bulky headphones a loose sweater and a hood because he will launch to bite anyone to moves right now. Thanks for that genius.

Explained how scents will kill the birds, please smoke outside away from any open windows, wash your hands// air off before going near the bird room so the smoke residual doesn’t kill my pets. Does a mostly okay job at smoking away from windows, for whatever reason thinks smoking outside open doors is fine though? No attempt to ensure he doesn’t reek of cigarette before going down near the bird room. No effort not to kill my animals.

All my animals are clean and well maintained to the best extent an animal can be. He will pet sham then immediately make a snarky statement about him being gross or having to wash his hands now bc gross, smell his hands and huff away to wash his hands before resuming something dramatically. Just don’t pet him then? He’s a dog.

Finances:

We paid for everything for the first chunk with 0 need for payback because we wanted to help him out. Get some new clothes, the basic hygiene stuff, cover one tank of gas so he can hand out resumes. A startup base to get back on your feet with. Anything past that point that he asks for from us was agreed upon to be paid back whenever possible. He owes us over $1000 currently and has paid us $10 to take off of that debt. It’s been two months, he got a job within the first week. The only other payment has been the $200 rent agreed upon for the second month. Anything else he has ever “attempted” to pay us back with he would ask for it back within 8 hours.

Which wouldn’t be the biggest issue if not for the fact that: he has gone out drinking at bars every weekend, got a new girlfriend and has been buying her stuff/ giving her gas money/ paying her bills just for funsies, he started eating out and refusing to make food with the Free Stuff We Supply. He has the money to spend and pay us back. He just won’t.

Wasting, Everything. He showers twice a day every day. Our water bill has gone up $150 on his water usage alone. He will make a huge plate of food then just leave it sitting out all night and throw it away. He will cook 6 eggs at a time for himself then not finish it consistently. Make Less Next Time or USE THE FRIDGE.

He leaves every single light on and I don’t mean oops I left it on when I came upstairs and forgot. I mean he will leave at night to go to the bar and leave four lights on, the computer running and everything on high to go out for 4-6 hours. I am now acting like the parent of a child having to listen for his car driving away to go down the stairs and shut everything off god forbid my hydro bill pay the price and the birds be stuck with lights blaring keeping them awake.

We are flat broke right now, we have run ourselves dry, we made it very clear that past the first batch of purchases we got for him his expenses were his responsibility. He has asked for gas money every week since the start. He will make up some story about his car just burning through gas “it must be broke !” “Just filled it now sure how this happened???” For the first bit we went along with it adding it to list he owes us for but it quickly became a clear habit so we stopped. IMMEDIATELY started guilt tripped and being manipulative about it. Sending pictures of a car on E on the road after we said no, going “well where’d that 10$ I gave you go?????” Being super pushy and not taking No I don’t have money to give You as an answer.

Keeps wanting to do the grocery shop with this undertone of “I want to do the shop without you there so I can over buy things we don’t need and you’ll have to foot the bill for it” constantly mentioning things like expensive meats he wants to eat, buying excess of things we already have in the house, brands and things we cannot afford. Initially I interpreted his offers as kind like oh this is a hard task for me he wants to help! But this one day he was supposed to do it but we were out of pizza sauce and I was literally in the middle of prepping the dough so I just ran out and did it. He was So Mad that he didn’t get to do it like sir? Wtf was so important about groceries that I’ve foiled your plans here? What the HELL were you going to do?

Jack also smokes, if you buy x amount of cartons you get them cheaper so they were going to buy x amount and split the bill together. Dude smoked like 5/6 cartons all by himself. To add to this I have found his cigarettes all over my front yard from him smoking in his car and throwing it in to the grass, also some left at the side door instead of the ashtray that’s right the fuck there. On top of that half of these are still like full cigarettes? Just completely wasting shit that’s already a chaotic price for a habit he certainly can’t afford.

Habits:

We’ve had alcohol sitting in our house since our wedding. We don’t drink much but every now and then we celebrate something and have a nice night together. It’s nice having the booze sitting there for those random times we can have some fun without spending any money cause it’s already here. He drank a full bottle of vodka, rum, gin, kahlua, and wine within the second week of being here. It was all gone in a night.

He is incapable of flushing his own toilet. Every morning after he leaves for work I have to do the round shutting off the lights and discovered that he just leaves his shit to ferment all day long. There is piss splash all along the seat and surrounding floor. It reeks like a porta potty. It’s fucking disgusting.

Lies about it every tiny little thing, pretended I just didn’t buy two chocolate bars I mustve only gotten one and that’s why only one is in the pantry now. I found the wrapper on the floor of his room for that bar. Says he’s staying in this weekend doesn’t want to go out drinking can’t afford it then immediately goes out. Says he has no money for gas he can’t be doing anything then goes to drive to a fro around town for no reason other than to just drive.

Gotta love the casual bragging about all the “chores” he’s done so we should be grateful (he washed his own frying pan he used and the whole house needed to know about it)

Weaponized incompetence. Ohh I didn’t know the dishwasher was clean! There’s a giant sign on the front that says clean. Deliberately messing up cookies he wanted to make four times for his coworkers so that I would have to do it for him (that didn’t work, enjoy bringing gross cookies in, magically he made them perfectly the next time)

My all time favourite of “I think I’ll do X!” And then standing in the kitchen staring at me waiting for me to get up and do it for him. Boy does he every huff and puff when I do not move and just go “enjoy” when he starts asking 20 questions back to back to trigger me to just do it myself it’ll be easier I instead just go “idk” “try asking google”. Suddenly he’s capable of doing the thing with no further questions.

Claims to be a neat freak, will make an underhanded comment about dog fur or a bird poop on the couch or some other very small not a big deal thing then fails to even keep his bedroom clean. I have had to clean up sticky coffee spills from the hallway, deep clean the stair he covered in mud and clay, his room has no visible floor, need I mention the state of that bathroom again? Neat freak my ass you just want to complain and talk shit without sounding rude?

Dramatic gagging sounds whenever he sees a bird poop. Pretended to “help” by picking up a dog poop (which we didn’t ask him to do it’s our dog we’ll clean it) and then dramatically fake vomiting the entire time until one of us walked over took the bag from him and did it. Our dogs are on raw, the poops are small and have very minimal smell. No one asked him to do this if you were truly this bothered by poop you would just not. You just wanted to make a scene. About how Gross our animals are cause that seems to be all you do in a day.

Keeps going out the side door to smoke in the middle of the night then not locking the door when he comes back in.

Goes out every night drinking then spends all day bitching about not getting enough sleep

OH MY GOD I can only take Advil for my migraines bc of my heart medication. We have Tylenol for everyone else. HE TOOK THE ENTIRE BOTTLE OF ADVIL IN ONE FUCKING NIGHT. So I’ve been stuck with debilitating pain and no pain relief because it’s expensive as fuck. The bottle of Tylenol was also half chugged down by the next weekend. We will not be buying more.

Any and all leftovers I have from cooking for myself and Jack (I cook meals for all of us if he’s home but if he’s not I won’t bc who knows what time he’ll show up) he just eats without even asking. Most of the time the leftovers are for my flare up days so I can eat when I’m in pain. He’s been told this. He doesn’t care. If there is food pre made he will consume all of it it doesn’t matter if it’s way too much for one person to eat. He’ll just leave it out all night for a week to rot in the basement. Otherwise the only thing he will cook for himself is eggs. Expensive. We no longer buy eggs he can buy his own to feed that expensive diet choice.

Common sense not to use metal on things like frying pans and baking sheets. I inform him of this anyways, do not cut directly on my pizza pans. It will make them rust and no longer be non stick. These are new. Don’t damage them. He was supposed to be home for home made pizza, didn’t show until like 2am. I left cooking instructions with the dough pre set up for him just need to put on toppings bake and serve. I left a note saying “do NOT cut on tray” he cut on the tray. This was the second time. Both trays are permanently damaged. My notes were found in the oven burnt. Thanks for the fire hazard.

Complains about there being insects in the basement (there’s the occasional spider and we’ve had some rain so the occasional little wood bug is piping up the escape the rain) it just needs to dry and they’ll be gone. It’s a basement. There’s gonna be some spiders n shit. Bitched about there being ants. I’ve never had ants in this house anywhere, lo and behold leaving his food out all over the damn room attracted them. Told him this fact. He goes no it couldn’t possibly be that and demands to use chemicals (bird death so NO). Eventually got him to bring up his dishes and BEHOLD the ants are all gone.

Bitched about it being cold in the basement, (it’s warm enough for my tropical parrots?) we bought a second space heater for him. Yet he doesn’t use the spare blankets down there at all, still complains about it being cold. It’s the pit of summer. I’m not turning the central heating on??? Use the damn blankets????? Move the space heater closer to you????? Close your bedroom door??????????? This space heater has been left too close to flammable objects on no less than four occasions so far. It’s like he wants my house to burn down.

He kept wanting to be involved and help the house so we were having a bbq and asked him to pick up some small things we needed like a case of beer and some buns. He left and never showed back up. He then ate the leftovers of five burger patties and seven hotdogs which we were hoping to eat after pride all in one sitting for breakfast.

Ah yes, continuously eating the last of something and informing no one that it’s gone. Had no pickles for the bbq cause he ate them without telling anyone, numerous times I’ve been ready to do something just to find out there’s no cheese in the fridge bc he failed to notice it used the last of it and replace it with one we have in the freezer, eating all the prepped ingredients and putting empty containers in the fridge. It’s not hard to tell someone something is getting low, add it to the list, write it down, or literally anything other than eat the last of it and make it someone else’s problem later

Anywho this whole setup is shit, if we don’t get money by his next check we’ll be cutting ties and telling him to find a new place by the end of the month. This is getting ridiculous. Every day he’s asking for money while talking down to us and talking shit about our pets or our home all the while making no effort to pay what’s owed.

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