#so. so you remember a while ago there was that person who was using a bunch of ppls art for...

[thinkinonsense]

if it's meant to be.

joel miller x fem!reader

masterlist — next chapter

summary: joel begins to settle in jackson when he meets a young widow on the second anniversary of her husbands death. he didn't plan to befriend her, let alone fall for her but when he sees a reflection of grief and love in her that he carries within himself, he can't help it.

warnings: slow burn, grief, mentions of death, cursing. some characters might feel slightly ooc, mentions of religion, half canon/ half not canon, nicknames, fleetwood mac mention, mentions of fertility and parenthood

chapter one: are you going to heaven?

every anniversary, you somehow find it within yourself to go to the graveyard. three rows back, five spots from the right; there he was. a small stone with your husbands name scratched in it.

the house feels haunted, you once told your friend, maria. for months, no one saw you leave your home. some of the people in the small town would come check on you, but that was two years ago. by now the wound should be healed, right?

“c’mon, sweet pea.” maria yelled, knocking on your door. “let me in! janice said she saw you leave this mornin’!”

"damn that old nosy lady." you mumble under your breath.

with a loud groan, you roll out of bed and make your way downstairs. only dressed in henry's clothes, a pair of boxers and a flannel shirt. even though the scent of him is gone, you can't find it in your heart to send them to donation.

“i'm alive, maria.” you answer, standing behind the door. “isn't that enough?”

the woman on the other side sighs. “you know we just don't want you to be alone today.”

reluctantly, you open the door and peak your head out.

“tommy took some flowers to henry's spot this morning. he said you always leave prettier ones than us.” maria smiles.

“there just the ones i grow in the garden every year.” you shrug.

maria’s heart ached for you. so young and already lost so much. eyes full of sorrow still mourning the man you had adored. henry and tommy worked together as fireflies for a while before tommy left them. the two were close friends before his passing.

“you should join us tonight at the town hall party.” she suggests. “i think dina would like to see you there.”

a small chuckle slips from your lips. “that little shit came in earlier with her key and made herself a sandwich.”

dina never caused you or henry any trouble. one day she just appeared and grew to you two like another limb. she was the only person who knew the pain you went through. some nights you would wake up sobbing from dreams of what almost was and what will never be. there were drunken nights where maria found you the next morning, slumped over in your bathroom with an empty glass in your hand. dina stayed with you for months, worried to leave you alone. the community of jackson did as much as they could to help but the ache never fully went away.

a beat passes and you sigh. “i guess, i’ll be there.”

happily, she walks off to get back to work. once the door closes, that sinking feeling returns.

joel didn’t know the first thing about the town of jackson, nor the people in it. women would admire him from afar but he was too worried about ellie to notice; especially on a day like today.

“she's fine, old man.” tommy chuckles, watching joel stare out the window at ellie and a group of teens around her age.

“just wanna make sure she ain't gettin’ in any trouble.” joel huffs, returning back to his breakfast.

tommy shakes his head at his worried brother. this side of joel reminded him of life before the outbreak.

“where's maria at?” joel asked, changing the subject.

“checkin’ in on an old friend of ours.” he replies almost in a somber way. “todays the anniversary of her husbands passing.”

“jesus.” joel exhales, not expecting that. “how did her husband pass? infected?”

tommy nods. “he went out for patrol and it went south. poor bride saw his head get blown off by some officers.”

'poor bride' was an understatement, joel thought. he still remembers what it was like to lose sarah. the wound gets easier to manage but it never fully heals.

" 's a real shame. henry was a good man." his younger brother sighs. "they'd been together since he showed up here in jackson seven years ago..."

whatever story tommy was about to tell about the dead man was interrupted when maria walked in. joel still couldn't believe how tommy looks at her she hung the moon and individually picked every fucking star in the night sky.

"morning, joel." maria says, taking a seat next to tommy.

"mornin'." he nods, politely.

as the couple catches up, something in the window captures joel's attention. two women on the sidewalk were talking together, one older and one younger. the older one seems to be doing most of the talking while the younger just nods along. she's dressed half hazardously in a pair on men's boxers as shorts and flannel about two sizes too big for her.

the woman was pretty, joel had to admit. soft features and eyes that shined.

"... she said she would show up tonight but who knows?" is all joel seems to have caught from the conversation between maria and tommy.

instead of trying to figure out who they were talking about, joel leans forward a little onto the table to get a better look at the women outside; but by then, it was too late. both of them had disappeared.

"joel? did you hear me?" tommy asked, snapping joel out of his thoughts.

"um, yeah, yeah... seven o'clock." joel guessed.

seven o'clock came around and you somehow made it down to town hall with a fresh baked pumpkin pie in your hands. the leaves in jackson were just beginning to change colors into different shades of brown and orange.

town hall was packed with just about everyone in jackson. kids played outside, chasing each other in the yard.

"oh! there she is!" you hear dina cheer when she sees you walk through the doors. her arms wrap around your waist, brushing against the white slip dress and henry's old leather jacket you had on. "pretty dress ya' got on."

"it better be." you chuckle. "costs me three jars of my homemade jam."

the two of you laugh until you spot maria and tommy at one of the tables. dina seemed too occupied with a brunette girl across the room anyways. politely, you excuse yourself and promise to catch up later.

"mind if i join ya'?" you ask, spooking maria who didn't expect to see your face here tonight.

"i'm glad you showed up tonight." she smiles, offering you the seat next to her.

"only came to remind tommy that he needs to come fix my heater again. winter will be here soon and i don't know why it keeps breaking."

there was a dry chuckle coming from behind you.

"it keeps breakin' cause tommy is the one 'fixing' it." a southern accent from behind announces. your gaze follows the sound until it leads you to the older man in front of you.

the mysterious man looked down at you almost like he had seen someone familiar. for an older man, he sure was handsome. looked rough around the edges, unlike the boyish charm you were usually drawn towards.

"and that pain in my ass would be my older brother, joel." tommy says, shaking his head.

"sweet pea, this is joel." maria introduces us. "joel, this is sweet pea."

there's a beat of silence between the two of you; almost like one is afraid to scare off the other.

finally, you speak up. "nice to meet you, joel."

"pleasure to meet you, sweet pea." he mutters, offering you his hand to shake.

joel regretted as soon as he felt your velvety touch. you don't fail to notice all the scars and callouses that covered his hand either. he must enjoy working with his hands, you thought to yourself.

luckily for the both of you, jane and chris call for everyone's attention up front. three small taps against their glasses and everyone turned.

"tonight, we want to come together to celebrate our community's fallen hero's..." chris announces.

for a moment, you're flashed back to two years ago. everyone heard the emergency call over the radios. infected.

"t-tommy, tell me it's not my henry."

the words came out in broken sobs near the gate. on the other side, you couldn't even begin to imagine what was happening. instead you are stuck here.

tommy avoids your watercolored eyes because he knows the truth. he leaves you there to go back out but when the gate opens again, you make a run for it. behind you, tommy's voice of warning shouted at you to stay away from henry but you didn't listen. the closer you got, the less he looked like your henry.

"henry!" you call out.

it happened so quick. one moment he charges at you and the next, sheriff carter's bullet shot straight through henry's temple until it came out the end. his blood splattered on your face and torso, marking you with the only thing left of him.

that night, dina and maria helped you clean henry's blood from your body and clothes. in the weeks that followed, tommy heard your screams from that day echo in his head every night while he slept. both of you were left replaying henry's final moments in your heads. tommy let you sob in his arms for hours, him and maria were both too afraid to leave you alone.

as the months passed by, the clouds around you only grew darker. you weren't sleeping or eating, the only people you would talk to were dina, maria, and your therapist, gail. it took a long time to open up to the idea of therapy. even now, you aren't entirely sure that it's done much help.

henry's name barely registered in your mind; nor did maria's voice calling your name.

"i need some air." you mumble, getting up and walking out the door.

on your way out, you snag a bottle of whiskey off one of the tables. a moment of awkwardness falls over everyone as the door slams shut behind you. joel watches as the young girl with ellie tries to go after you but maria stops her.

"she just needs a minute." his sister in-law tells the young girl.

once jane and chris continued, joel slipped out the door. he wasn't entirely sure why he felt the need to check on you. told himself that he would just make sure you were okay.

well, that was until you heard his footsteps.

"i'm fine, dina." you sniffle, placing the cap back on the bottle.

"sorry, i ain't dina." he mutters awkwardly, shifting on his feet.

the accent makes you turn around. tommy's brother stood a good distance away with his hands stuck in his pockets. there's an unreadable expression on his face.

"oh, s-sorry." you apologize, wiping a few fallen tears from your face. "i didn't know someone was out here. i was just about to go home."

"you don't um, you don't have to leave." he tells you, stopping any movement.

you offer him a small nod. "promise, i'm not usually a mess."

"didn't take you as one." joel replies, leaning against the railing.

"i wish they would all stop with these parties on the anniversary of his death. feels like their mocking me."

the two of you stare ahead at one of the old faded billboards that you've stared at countless times over the years. are you going to heaven?

"that's such a silly question. 'are you going to heaven?'" you giggle, a little tipsy from the whiskey.

"well, are ya'?" joel asked, almost jokingly.

"i gotta." you admit. "only chance i have at seeing henry again."

if anyone knew what you meant, it was joel.

"see that over there?" you ask him.

joel's eyes followed your index finger to what looked like might've once been a church.

"for years, i sat front row in those pews. even got married there." a small sigh escaped you as you recall the memories. "now i'm not so sure why i did any of it to begin with."

"born into it?" joel asked.

you nod. "daddy used to be a preacher but that was many moons ago, before the outbreak."

"you from jackson?"

"born in california but all i remember is jackson. came here for safety. for all i know, i could be the only girl alive from california."

a moment passes the two of you by. only the noise from inside the building can barely be heard.

"tommy's told me a lot about you, ya' know?" you tell him, breaking the silence.

joel almost winces at your statement, worried that tommy had nothing good to say about him.

"he's told me a bit about you too." he says, hoping to avoid any talk about himself.

you laugh dryly. "lemme guess.... did the words 'poor bride' come about?"

joel stays silent, immediately answering your question. he almost feels embarrassed that he doesn't answer, not wanting to hurt your feelings.

in a small voice, barely audible you mumble. "promise that i'm more than just a grieving widow."

for a moment, joel almost saw a mirrored reflection of his grief over his own daughter, sarah. despite all the years that have passed the hole in his heart was still there.

"you ever lost someone important to ya'?" you ask, looking up at him with puffy eyes and lips.

he nods and takes a deep breath. "years ago i lost my daughter."

"what was her name?"

"sarah."

"you're the poet of my heart." you hum an old familiar tune. one that joel hasn't heard in decades. a small smile crosses him.

"what was she like?" you asked.

"perfect." he replies without hesitation. "she was smart, smarter than anyone i ever met. too sweet for her own good."

"i bet she was."

"what about henry?"

you sigh. "henry had his flaws but even on his worst days, he always put me first. made me feel cared for and special. i don't think ill ever find a love like that again."

"don't count yourself out so soon." joel says earnestly. "you're young still."

"all my friends here are already married and have kids runnin' around while im here reliving memory's in my head that i'll never get back."

"being a parent isn't always all it's cracked up to be." he says, hoping to make you feel better.

"probably but at least i wouldn't be stuck daydreamin' about it."

the door swings open and maria walks out, joining the two of you.

"hey, you alright sweet pea?" she asked, rubbing your arm.

"yeah." you give her a smile. "joel here is keeping me company."

joel? her face read surprised. she gives him a look that you can't quite see but he shrugs sheepishly.

"he's been talkin' my ear off. told me some stories about growing up with tommy." you lie, hiding the depressing conversation the two of you shared in private together.

"told her tommy can't fix shit." he muttered, following along with your tale.

"maybe you can go fix sweet peas heater? let ellie breath for once." maria suggest.

"oh, he doesn't have to–"

joel cuts you off.

"i can look at it tomorrow, if ya' aren't busy."

"never am." you admit.

in the blink of an eye, a light snow began falling. the children outside cheer with excitement. you take it as a queue to return home.

"i'm gonna head home." you announce. "can you tell jane that i don't want that damn plaque?"

maria nods her head then pulls you in for a hug.

"have a good night." she says as you pull away.

"you too."

as you turn to joel, he's already looking at you. waiting for you.

"see you tomorrow, joel."

"see ya' tomorrow, sweet pea."

—tags: @lowrisemiller @imsherlocked-1998 @vvitchesh3x @chrrypascal @dugiioh @havensucks @olsenscardigan @sadgirlcait

[sirxaibs]

Do you know that scene in 'Regular Show" when Rigby tells Mordecai that his dating someone? You know, this one.

https://youtu.be/mTj87DvP0zE?si=dHh1sLPRuU5AA7RU

Right, so this is the exact same way I Imagine Sal telling his gang about him and his S/O. Right so you can just do whatever with it, you can turn it into a fic, use it in one of your other request, or just don't do anything with it. I just wanted to rant ig💀

OK GUYS PRETEND IM READING MY REQUESTS AND NOT BUSY!!!

this is a short one and is a heavily silly one!! I guess this can go with for popular reader AU! (modern au? idk i make a zoom reference)

masterlist

synopsis: gang minus ashley (supposed to be a dude hang out until the reader crashes it) finds out youre dating sal. Larry is as dramatic as fucking always.

“Dude,” Larry groaned, voice raspy like he’d just woken up which he had, two hours ago. “I think I’ve hit a new low.”

Todd didn’t even look up. “You say that so often bro.”

“No, no, this one’s different,” Larry muttered, dragging a hand down his face. “I stayed up late watching compilations of goth girls with nose rings reading poetry last night. I don’t even know why. My brain’s starving, bro.”

Sal snorted softly, while drawing. “You’re unwell.”

“I’m deprived, man,” Larry said, dragging himself into a slouched sit up. “I haven’t been touched in, like, months. Not even accidentally. I brushed hands with some chick at 7 Eleven and popped a big one.”

Todd grimaced and finally looked over. “You need help.”

“I need a miracle,” Larry said, pointing between them like he was conducting a funeral. “I’m surrounded. Whores to the left of me ” he gestured to Todd, “virgins to the right ” he tossed a finger toward Sal, “and here I am, balls dry and brain fried.”

Todd pushed up his glasses. “Being in a committed relationship with Neil does not make me a whore.”

“tell that to neil, i think he would say otherwise” Larry replied, picking up a cold chicken nugget from the coffee table and eating it without hesitation.

“That’s private.”

Sal blinked. “youre actually so gross man”

“Don’t act surprised,” Larry said, pointing a chicken finger at him. “You’ve got that hopeful little ‘I believe in true love’ look in your eye. It’s disgusting.”

Sal gave a noncommittal shrug. “I just think you find the right person when the time’s right. Someone who sees you. Who, like, actually wants to sit in your mess and love you anyway.”

“Okay, Plato,” Larry scoffed. “You say that like someone’s gonna come knocking on the door and say, ‘Wow, Larry, I love how you smell like weed and sweat. Let me fix you.’”

Sal offered a small smile. “Maybe they will. You never know.”

Larry stared at him, deadpan. “Dude. No offense, but I’m not taking dating advice from the other virgin in the room.”

Sal opened his mouth like he might respond, then just shrugged again. ��Fair enough.”

“Like, I’m dying out here,” Larry groaned, tossing his head back. “I’m the whole package! like you both think I am!”

Todd was trying not to laugh now. “You are… impressive.”

“Don’t parronize me, Todd. You’re out here getting laid between being a smart fuck and fucking smart and I’m just trying to remember what it feels like to make eye contact with someone who isn’t in a Zoom lecture.”

“You haven’t been in a Zoom lecture for months,” Sal said helpfully.

“Exactly!” Larry snapped. “I’m practically a ghost!”

Todd sighed, rubbing his temple. “You do realize that you could… I dont know, go outside and meet someone, right?”

Larry leaned forward with a dark grin. “thats not in the cards mate”

Sal let out a laugh that made Larry smirk. “dude then that's fully on you”

“Thank you,” Larry said proudly. “I may be dying inside, but I’m still funny. That’s all I’ve got.”

“Maybe you should try actually dating instead of just flirting with sad bookstore cashiers and girls who sell crystals on Instagram,” Todd muttered, standing to stretch.

“I like sad girls!” Larry defended. “They’re mysterious. not to manic pixie dream girl these girls but fortunately for them, it makes them on my radar, they've seen things”

“They’ve seen you,” Sal muttered under his breath, grinning.

“Exactly. And they ran,” Todd added.

Larry flopped over. “You’re both cruel. I open my heart and you throw shade.”

“much needed shade,” Todd muttered.

“literally shut the fuck up” Larry said with a shrug. “Anyway, if either of you know anyone hot, weird, emotionally damaged, and preferably into aliens or tarot, please send them my number.”

Sal gave him a look. “You say that like you’re a good investment.”

“I could be,” Larry corrected.

Todd rolled his eyes. “dinner could come faster if you shut up.”

“mmmm sure,” Larry said, suddenly perking up. “And if it’s pizza, I’m sitting next to you and giving you a personal special gift.”

“God, please don’t,” Todd muttered

Sal stretching. “We’re getting you a hobby.”

“Sex was supposed to be my hobby!” Larry called after them.

Sal blinked slowly, coming back from his stretch. “Dude, calm down.”

“I won’t!” Larry flailed his arms dramatically.

Todd shifted just enough to rest his chin on his hand. “You have issues.”

“I have needs, Todd. Human ones. I’m touch starved and mentally unstable. It’s a great combo if you’re into damaged goods, but apparently no one is!”

Sal sighed, still sketching. “Maybe you need to stop going after people who are guaranteed emotional disasters.”

“Oh, and what would you two know about my kind of dating?” Larry snapped, voice getting sharper. “Todd, you skipped the trauma part and jumped straight into cozy domestic bliss with Neil like it’s some damn romcom. And you ” He jabbed a finger at Sal. “You’ve got the dating experience of a damp napkin. Don’t lecture me on romance when your only action comes from drawing mysterious girls in your sketchbook like it’s 2005.”

Sal’s pencil froze for half a second. Larry leaned back, huffing, muttering under his breath. “God, even my insults are sad now.”

But Sal didn’t respond. He slowly set the pencil down and looked up. The room was quiet.

Larry glanced up. “What?”

Sal gave Larry a long, tired look. His voice was low and calm. “Actually, smart guy, I have been dating someone.”

Larry froze. “What?”

Sal shrugged once. “Yeah.”

“…Bullshit.”

“I’m serious.”

“No. No, you don’t just drop that like it’s nothing. Who? Who the hell would date you?” Larry excitedly looked at him. “No offense, but if i were into you, I would but that’s because we match each others freaks, who else would?”

Sal leaned forward slightly. “It’s Y/N.”

Larry blinked. Todd looked like he was trying not to visibly flinch. Larry sat up a little straighter. “I’m sorry what?”

Sal nodded, a little awkwardly but without backing down. “Yeah. It’s been a little while now.”

“You’re telling me… Y/N. Our Y/N. The only normal person who tolerates our lame asses. That Y/N.”

“hey im normal”

“youre literally not todd”

“Yes.”

“And you’re dating her?”

Sal just nodded again.

Larry slumped back into the couch like he’d just been slapped across the face with a cold fish. “Unbelievable. I am literally in hell.”

“It wasn’t a secret,” Sal added quickly. “We were just… taking it slow. Didn’t want to make it weird.”

“Didn’t want to ” Larry laughed, raspy little noise. “Bro. Everything is weird. You should’ve led with that like, weeks ago! That changes the entire dynamic! I’m out here crying about not being loved while you’re sneaking off to make googly eyes at the one decent human being left in our orbit!”

“It’s not like I did it to spite you,” Sal muttered.

Todd held up a hand. “Okay, let’s not turn this into a thing ”

Larry ignored him. “You didn’t even tell me! ME. im highkey offended.”

Sal actually looked a little guilty. “I didn’t know how to bring it up.”

“’Hey Larry, stop crying into your ramen, I’m dating the coolest person we know!’ That’s how you bring it up!” Larry exclaimed.

Todd muttered under his breath, “You’re being a little dramatic.”

“I earn my drama,” Larry hissed. “You guys are all out here winning at love, and I’m over here making up scenarios in my head.”

Sal’s voice was quieter now. “I get it. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything.”

Larry let out a long, exhausted sigh. “Nah. Nah, it’s fine. I’m happy for you, man. Seriously.” He looked off to the side and added, “I’ll just go sacrifice a lock of my hair to the moon goddess or whatever the hell it takes to not die single.”

Sal chuckled. “Want help with that?”

“Not from you, traitor.. You don’t belong in my trenches anymore.”

Sal offered a faint, slightly guilty smile. “youll find someone ”

“I know,” Larry mumbled. “its just so rough”

The three of them fell into silence again Larry sighed, dragging a hand through his hair. “Whatever. At least I still have pizza.”

“I actually thought we would warm up some leftovers” Todd pointed out.

Larry stared blankly into the void. “I have nothing.”

then the front door creaked open.

“Hey, losers!” came Y/N’s familiar voice. The warmth in her tone was immediate, She kicked off her shoes in the hallway with a thunk, holding a tote bag full of snacks and energy drinks. “I brought sugar and caffeine. Prepare to worship me.”

Larry didn’t even look up. “Oh, look what the cat dragged in.”

Y/N paused, eyebrows knitting in confusion. “What’s with the tone?” She walked in further, holding out the snacks proudly. “I got those weird sour gummies you like, Larry.”

“Oh, wow,” Larry said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Sour worms. Truly, you do care.”

Sal was now refusing to make eye contact with her, suddenly very invested in the corner of his page. Todd, meanwhile, was watching the scene unfold like it was a sitcom. Y/N squinted at all three of them. “…Did someone die?”

“Not someone,” Larry muttered, resting his chin on his knees. “Just my faith in friendship. And honesty. And romantic transparency. But whatever.”

Y/N blinked. “Okay. Definitely weird vibes going on here.”

“Is it?” Larry asked, dramatically pulling the blanket tighter around his body like he was the heartbroken lead in an indie film. “Or is it just the smell of secrets festering in the air?”

“What is going on?” Y/N laughed nervously, looking between the three of them. “Why are you all acting like you just got caught burying a body?”

Todd hummed. “Could say something was buried.”

Sal cleared his throat and didn’t look up. “Larry’s being dramatic.”

“Oh, I’m being dramatic?” Larry whipped around to glare at Sal. “You kept your little romance saga under wraps like it was state security, and I’m the problem?”

Y/N’s smile faltered. “…Romance saga?” Silence. Too long. “Sal?” she asked slowly, eyebrows raised.

“Hmm?”

“Wanna fill me in?”

He shrugged. “Not really.”

Todd let out the tiniest chuckle. Y/N looked back to Larry, confused. “Okay, am I missing something? Why are you glaring at me like I just kicked you in the face?”

“Oh, don’t play coy, Juliet,” Larry hissed. “You think you’re slick. Romeo told me everything”

“did he now?” Y/N laughed, exasperated now.

“i would argue not everything” sal peeps in

Y/N’s mouth opened, then closed. She looked at all three of them, eyebrows furrowed in panic. “Wait. Wait. What do you think you know?”

Larry stood, pointing dramatically. “Don’t play dumb! I know about you and Sal!”

“Oh my god,” Y/N finally muttered. “He told you?!”

“Damn right he told me,” Larry snapped. “Dropped it right in my lap like it was no big deal.”

Y/N flushed. “It wasn’t supposed to come out like this ”

“Oh, you think?”

“I didn’t mean ”

Larry threw up his hands. “Do you know how long I’ve been bitching about being single to both of you?! You could’ve at least let me know you were off the market so I could suffer in targeted isolation!”

“I was going to tell you eventually!” she said, defensive now.

“When? At your wedding?” Larry barked.

Todd: “Oof.”

Y/N rubbed her temples. “Okay. Okay, fine. It’s true. We’re dating. Happy?”

Larry crossed his arms. “Not really. I was hoping one of you was secretly wanting to date me.”

Sal smirked faintly, still not looking up. “Sorry.”

Y/N looked over at Todd. “you're such a bitch”

“Oh, I wasn’t going to help,” Todd said casually. “Watching it click was the highlight of my week.”

Larry exhaled through his nose. “Yeah. So congrats, lovebirds. I hope you’re very happy. I’ll just be in my room. Alone. Googling shit for special time that looks like one of you.”

He stomped toward the hallway like a man defeated. Y/N looked to Sal. “…Should we talk to him?”

Sal shrugged. “Give him fifteen minutes. He’ll come back for snacks.”

Todd held up the sour gummies while opening them. “I’m hiding these until he calms down.”

Y/N sighed and flopped down onto the couch with an audible groan. “dawg i’m so confused, i feel like i just cheated in him.”

Sal finally looked up, his voice quiet and honest. “Ew me too, but at least its out in the open.”

Y/N gave him a small smile. “Yeah. I guess it is.”

Todd smirked to himself. “About time.”

[ikeu05]

he’s on my court (unfortunately)

nine ⟢ 3-in-1 shampoo loser — wc: 745

the sky had turned a sleepy shade of lavender by the time yn wandered into the court. it was technically booked, but she knew no one would be there — it was that rare lull between practice slots. the air was still, the silence loud enough to hear her own thoughts and her hands itched for the distraction of a volleyball.

she hadn’t even changed into practice clothes. just sneakers, sweatpants and jake’s hoodie she’d accidentally taken a month ago after one of their endless “who gets the court” battles. she had taken it as reprimand. she hadn’t meant to keep it, not really, she wanted to burn it. but here it was, wrapped around her like a poor substitute for comfort.

she dropped her bag with a dull thud and stood at the edge of the court, staring at the net like it had personally wronged her.

that’s when she heard footsteps.

she turned, mildly alarmed, only to see yunjin—the girl she sort of knew through heeseung, who dated her and vaguely from campus events—walking in with a half-apologetic expression and a bottle of juice in hand.

“didn’t mean to scare you,” yunjin said softly, offering the juice like a peace treaty. “i saw you walk in from across the quad. thought maybe you could use a shoulder?”

yn blinked. “that’s… weirdly nice. are you a serial killer?” her eyes widened as she accused her further “worse… aren’t you jake’s friend?”.

yunjin laughed awkwardly, holding up a hand in defence “technically. he’s just my boyfriend and cousins friend so unfortunately, i have to hangout with him.”

yn cracked a smile of sympathy and took the juice.

they sat in silence for a moment on the bleachers, yn’s fingers turning the cap of the drink over and over.

“you don’t have to talk,” yunjin offered. “you just looked like you needed a witness to whatever mental breakdown you’re about to have.”

yn laughed, the kind of laugh that cracked and fizzled midway.

“i liked someone. for a long time,” she finally said. “and he didn’t like me back. i mean, i knew that. i’m not delusional. but he didn’t even care enough to text me back once my sister came to visit. he was just with her the whole time.”

yunjin tilted her head. “sunghoon?”

yn gave her a side-eye. “damn, the confessions page is working overtime.”

yunjin gave a sheepish shrug. “campus isn’t that big. and he keeps posting these weird thirst traps? always going viral.” she mumbled the last bit, remembering how heeseung and jay commented on how hot he looked after just waking up.

that made yn groan. “yeah. that did NOT help.” she leaned back. “but the worst part? jake.”

yunjin raised an eyebrow. “jake?”

“he’s just always… around. like i know we share the court and wtv, i’m bound to see him here and there but it’s like.. he’s ALWAYS there.” she exhales, mind thinking through all the times jake’s been pestering her, on court and on text as well. “i want to hate him, and i DO. but sometimes it’s almost comforting to see him? you know what i mean?”

yunjin nods in agreement, “it’s like seeing a familiar face in a new seminar or something. i get it.” then she grinned. “so let me get this straight. sunghoon, crush, radio silence. jake, enemy, low-key concern. and you’re spiraling.”

“exactly!” yn threw her arms up. “am i insane?!”

“no,” yunjin said, then paused. “i mean… maybe a little. but who isn’t? you’ve got a lot going on. it makes sense it’s all crashing at once.”

yn stared at her for a second, then whispered, “you’re too wise to be heeseung’s girlfriend.”

yunjin cackled “facts.”

they sat for a while longer, the sky darkening, the court lights flickering on.

“i’m rooting for you,” yunjin finally said. “whether you key sunghoon’s car, spike another volleyball at jake or get in trouble for literally anything. just send me a text once and i’ll coming in running.”

yn smiled, for real this time. “thanks. seriously. for being a random kind stranger.”

“anything for the girl who called me pretty when i was on the verge of a breakdown with my new haircut,” yunjn said with a wink, then smirked. “also, i brought cookies. they were for heeseung, but you look more broken than him right now.”

yn chuckled, grabbing the small box from her, watching her wave bye as she walked away.

── ⟢ ⸝⸝ ⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⸝⸝ ⟢ ──

masterlist 𝜗𝜚⋆ prev dear diary, 𝜗𝜚⋆ next princess banana hamilton & sir richard bonoseuvelo nuttington

nessie 🗯️ again, i meant #05 here lmao

taglist (check masterlist to see if it’s open or not!) @dyitpink @wonzzziezzzz @ezekiel-bublz @rairaiblog @1-itsneverthatserious-1 @yuyita-rosier @haechansbbg @jakeznii @xoenhalover @dolluvsyun @luhvletters @baekmiyaa @hollxe1 @kirakun @shhh1233728 @weepingsweep @amatariki @tinyteezer @firstclassjaylee @dazeymazey11 @lovenha7 @simjaeyunlvrclub @wenomakiluvr @jaysguitarstring @zoe1love @wonietree

[thebroccolination]

LI’L MARKETING GENIUS

Okay so—I love everything about this, so lemme go through it piece by piece, ready?

Yesterday, Kit and Singto were spotted by fans eating at a restaurant together (with GMMTV staff, who also posted photos), and one fan said Kit was leaning on Singto’s shoulder for photos. Just now, Kit posted those same photos to his Instagram page.

There’s a lot of fun to unpack in this, because I appreciate the marketing angles here.

First off, Kerrist is Kit’s personal merch brand, and he was wearing the black and white versions yesterday in different social media posts:

[posted by @.bunnybig]

[posted on kit’s tiktok]

I figured he’d have something new out around the time of the series finale, so he’s probably going to start taking pre-orders soon. That means it’s a good time to soft-launch it in social media posts like these.

The other thing I like about this is that it suggests Kit and Singto are very, very intentional about everything they do during the promotional period. If you were around during Singto’s freelance era, you may remember that we almost never saw Kit or Singto together, and they didn’t share photos of their time together themselves. Even though they were still close, even though they spent time together, I think there are only two or three publicly available photos that even exist of them together while they were working separately.

So I think whenever they’re “caught” out together like this now, it’s 110% intentional. In a Japanese magazine interview a few months ago, they were asked what each other’s favorite places in each other’s houses are, and they both had ready answers (Kit said Singto’s stairwell for the acoustics, and Singto was like, “So that’s why you take your guitar in there all the time,” and Singto said Kit’s couch). There are plenty of stories about them hanging out from their friends, but they don’t really get “caught” by fans all that often. Probably because they’re mainly hanging out in private spaces where fans don’t have access. (Which is what I would do too tbh.)

Anyway, I love this because I don’t think anyone knew that Kit was going to post the photos of him leaning on Singto that fans saw being taken. This got a lot of buzz among fans overnight, and now today he’s casually dropped the photos—to advertise his upcoming merch.

What I like about all of this—and why I’m posting about it—is that Kit and Singto have effectively curtained off their private relationship while seamlessly promoting their brand based on genuine mutual affection for each other. They’re not (only) working together because their brand is profitable; their brand is profitable because people can see they’re sincere in their closeness, which results in that rare thing: brand longevity. (PeBaCa as a whole are truly impressive for that.)

And most importantly: they know how to protect that closeness.

When I first saw fans posting photos and videos of Krist and Singto out at a different restaurant recently, I was uncomfortable with it. And while I still think fans need to stop doing that in general because it is rude and invasive to encroach on an actor’s private time when they aren’t working, I realized that they’re aware it’s going to happen and they’re using it to their advantage. They’ve been in the industry for over a decade, so they’re perfectly capable of avoiding being seen if they want to. Again, they should all be able to live their lives without being followed or filmed without their consent, but I’m glad they seem to understand exactly how to strategically use the situation to their benefit.

After all, why not take an unfortunate inevitability and turn it into promotion?

So buy Kit’s merch! It’s always really cute and good quality. I have a cardigan waiting for me at a friend’s house the next time I visit Thailand. :>

[soppingwethog]

Odeur 53 by Comme des Garcons

Before I begin, I would just like to take a moment and apologize. I understand that this review is long. I understand that there are multiple paragraphs following this paragraph. I understand that reading is difficult. I understand that paying attention to anything for more than eleven seconds is nearly impossible. The earth is an increasingly demanding place and I am truly sorry for contributing to your grueling existence by writing a review about this perfume that is more than a few short lines. However, I believe that the information I provide below about this daring, unique fragrance is illuminating and valuable. I believe that writing anything less would not be true or fair to myself or the perfume. So please, forgive me if you can. I’m very sorry. If you simply cannot find it in your heart to forgive me, I understand.

When I was fifteen years old, I was suspended from school for a period of ten days. While I still maintain my innocence, there was little that could be done to convince the principal, vice principal, and school resource officer that I was blameless. I was just a child and they were three cold, rigid adults who made their living by not believing children. It did not take long for me to realize that any defense I attempted to mount for myself would be inefficacious, so I sat silently as they berated, ridiculed, blamed, harangued, judged, and pronounced me guilty for a crime I did not commit.

I will admit that the circumstances surrounding the event were strange and made it appear as though I had broken school rules as well as a bevy of local and federal statutes. To make a long story still sort of long, I was found by a member of the school staff in the lavatory. When I was discovered, I was soaked, filthy, unconscious, and my mouth was stuffed full of cigarettes. I would like to take a moment now and promise you, dear reader, that I have never smoked a cigarette or cigar in my life. Personally, I have absolutely no interest in the smoking of tobacco or any other flammable drug as I prefer to achieve my highs through other means like experiencing true love or drinking rare, exotic mammalian milks.

This event, like so many in my life, happened several years ago. As such, my memory is no longer crystal clear, but there are a few things which I can recall with certainty. I do remember leaving a very difficult mathematics class in order to use the restroom as I had eaten two cold cans of cream of mushroom soup for breakfast that morning and they ran through my guts like a slippery horse. I made my way to the dingy, graffiti-covered restroom where I immediately dropped trou and claimed my rightful place upon the porcelain throne and did what needed to be done which mainly consisted of focusing as hard as I could on not losing consciousness due to the incredible amount of wet matter that was rapidly escaping my body. Such a violent rush of solids and fluids leaving one’s entrails can sometimes cause a severe drop in blood pressure. There have been many, many times in my life when diarrhea has made me faint, and as far as I can tell, that is precisely what happened then.

Straddling the thunder bucket and gripping the sides of the bowl is the last thing I recall with any sort of coherence. The next thing I remember is the physical education instructor, Mr. Hamper, prodding me with some sort of wooden rod. I was utterly confused and began choking and coughing due to the incredible amount of wet cigarettes that had been shoved into my mouth and throat. I managed to hack most of them up, but I’m sure I inadvertently swallowed one or two in the process. It was terribly embarrassing. Like I said, I was completely soaked, I was in no small amount of pain, my trousers were soiled, and on top of that, it was picture day. It was not an ideal situation, to be sure.

I have spent years trying to piece together what might have happened while I was unconscious. I suppose I will never know for sure, but I assume that after I passed out while defecating, I slumped to the floor and made a complete mess of myself. Then, eventually, one or more of my schoolmates must have entered the water closet where they spotted me lying in my own filth on the lavatory floor. They then must have attempted to wake me by urinating on my face and into my ears and nose. When this failed to rouse me from my slumber, they decided to have a little fun by stuffing my mouth with at least a full pack of mentholated Camel Wides. Once they laughed themselves into submission, they left the washroom and notified the avaricious Mr. Hamper who then managed to agitate me into consciousness by poking me with a stick.

I can say for sure that this was not an enjoyable day and I was deeply ashamed to have been suspended, but, luckily, the suspension was not all bad as it was during those ten days of absence that one of my step-cousins visited and gifted me a nearly-empty bottle of Odeur 53 by Comme des Garcons that she said she had stolen from the fragrance counter at a shopping mall. It was an incredible display of kindness right when I needed it most. My spirits were lifted. It was as though she had applied a curative salve to my tatterdemalion soul.

Sadly, that was the last time I ever saw my dear step-cousin as she perished shortly after in a truly horrific accident that the local paper referred to as the “Oat Creek Squishing.” After attending her funeral, I decided that I would keep what remained of the Odeur 53 by Comme des Garcons in her honor. I would guard it. I would treasure it. As such, I have not yet sniffed any of the contents of this beautiful glass vessel and I do not ever plan to, but I have a strong feeling that if I did, it would smell of my sweet, dead step-cousin.

[florawriting]

"Well, we have a dragon"

Billy is a god AU(?) time, baby. I will be the one singlehandedly redeeming Fury of the Gods or die trying!

I made a post a while ago toying around with the idea that the other siblings would one day ascend to godhood as well. Gaining different titles based on their actions and personality (see here and here for the posts in question).

In there I gave Darla the domains of Beasts and Creativity, and I just had such a funny visual based on that that I just had to share it.

______________________________________________________________

So remember Landor, that big scary wooden dragon from the second movie that Kalypso used to fight Billy with? Yeah, he is supposed to be the protector of the tree of life, which was sorta restored at the end of the movie. Which means that it needs a new protector. And plants are notoriously really adaptable and survivable.

So yeah, basically Landor was resurrected and he is kind of a ticking timebomb. Kalypso had ruined his trust, so he has become very territorial over the tree of life. Not that big of a deal normally, as nobody needed to come near the tree on a everyday bases. But kind of a problem when there is an evil worm targeting it and you need to make a coordinated plan to ensure you're not utterly destroyed.

______________________________________________________________

I can imagine the whole plan going to sh*t. With the fight boiling down to it being a free for all with one objective: Survive. Darla, with her endless optimism and love for animals, decides to face Landor alone in hopes of calming him down. Becoming some sort of phycological stand-off against a resurrected ancient dragon and a disguised young teenager.

Darla eventually manages to overpower Landor (in a scene that I still have to make up, but it's probably going to be very hard and it almost costs her her life), making him an ally to the champions, right as the others are overpowered and trapped.

Just imagine Mr. Mind bathing in this victory, ready to burn the tree down, until the youngest (and most passivistic) champion flies down before him. Staring him down with a confidence that one should not have in this dire situation.

Mr. Mind: Move out of the way you insignificant child.

Darla (Bolt): I'm afraid we can't let that happen, Mister

Mr. Mind: We? My monster society has captured your siblings and allies. Who is left to face me?

Darla (Bolt): Me, and him.

Cue Landor dropping in from the sky behind Darla, casting a large shadow and charging up his flames very similar to this poster of Fury of the Gods. Darla standing there menacingly making every member of the society shit his pants.

They were not just facing another champion.

They were now facing another god

and they are F*CKED

Sorry for the piss poor quality of this photo. This was literally the highest res that Google had to offer me

Edit: This just came into my mind right after I posted it, but gods, if Billy didn't have the courage of achilles, he would have such a traumatic flashback right now.

[thebluebygracieabrams]

i think growing up is just life repeatedly sucker punching you and saying bitch you thought things were gonna better lmao no you're so naive and stupid for having hope in 20 years the world will be flaming bag of garbage and no matter how hard you work you'll get eliminated at some point

[mantisgodsdomain]

Slowly, yet painfully realizing that we're probably the exact type of person that random fandom guys would miscast as a father.

[captainshadowshifter]

Today apparently I will be fuelled by pure rage. Noted.

[vicontheinternet]

Knowing forwood had twins in the books only to give that plot to Caroline and Alaric of all ppl that’s meredith eraser

[moonsidesong]

fair ways into magical turnabout. hate nahyuta a lot more than i remembered

[each-uisge]

.

[bubtans]

i saw a post the other day complaining about tipping culture getting out of control and citing the option to tip a cashier or other service worker for simply doing their job, and i fully understand the critique of tipping from the angle of incentivizing employers to keep wages as low as possible if they know customers will fill that need, But

the idea that it's a cultural failure to show material support for a service worker unless they change your life just feels so unnecessarily bitter and harsh in a time where people need each other more than ever, and maybe i'm thinking too hard about it but. if i have an extra dollar to give to a 19-year-old college student putting in my smoothie order for them to save or put towards groceries, why is smiling at me and wishing me well not enough for them to have earned it? why am i so important that someone has to go above and beyond just to get a few quarters?

[drchucktingle]

self-diagnosis

there are a lot of older autistic buckaroos, like myself, who were diagnosed decades ago, and while i see some folks in the community roll their eyes or gatekeep about idea of autism self-diagnosis becoming so common in young buds, i love this movement. it takes nothing away from me or my identity

what it DOES do is create a way of personal understanding for young buds who might need this help. it creates a sense of solidarity. AND FOR US OLDER BUCKAROOS it does something unexpected: when i say ‘i am autistic’ i get almost no pushback and complete understanding now. people say 'oh okay'

back in my day, someone skilled at neurotypical masking could NEVER just say ‘i am autistic’ without pushback. there was either confusion, or anger, or dismissal, because folks simply did not even UNDERSTAND what autism was. you think ‘you dont look autistic’ is common now? shoulda seen back then.

so if you are also one of these older autistic buds and you are tempted to gatekeep, just remember: this is a SPECTRUM, and the more examples of the width of that spectrum we have, the better for all of us. we are out here proving love TOGETHER. heck yeah buckaroos love is real

[infamousbrad]

I warned you.

About 15 years ago, I had a minor moment of Internet fame when I wrote a lengthy essay series on LiveJournal called "Christians in the Hand of an Angry God." In it, I argued that right-wing evangelical "Christianity" was literally Satanic by scriptural standards, was literally the cult of anti-Christ that Jesus prophesied in Matthew 25:31-46, that they were literally worshiping a made-up guy with the same name to justify cruelty, just like Jesus predicted they would the week before the crucifixion.

And at least half of the people who read it and praised it called it excellent satire. They saw my point, thought I was onto something, but couldn't take seriously that I literally meant what I literally said.

"Do not commit the sin of empathy."

Jesus' prophesy that these people were coming was not especially miraculous, in hindsight. No philosophy or theological movement becomes a large organized church, let alone a majority faith of a nation, without needing rich people's money, and/or government funding, to pay for it all.

And rich people in general, and right-wing governments in general, get to be the way they are by believing that the poor and the down-trodden can never be shown anything but cruelty, should never be rewarded, or else they'll lose all motivation to obey, to work hard, to be good. (By contrast, they believe that the same thing would happen to rich, powerful, popular people if they were ever punished in any way, if they were ever anything but rewarded.)

And rich people and governments are not going to subsidize your church foundation funds, your church repair funds, et cetera if you tell them that they're evil. But someone definitely will come along and offer to take that money. The people who take that money and conform won't even all be lying psychopaths; if you truly believe that your organization matters, is doing irreplaceable good in the world, you'll sacrifice any principle of your faith to keep the bills paid, you'll look away from or excuse any sin. It's that or see it all shrink and crumble into irrelevance.

I've come to the conclusion that it may not actually be possible to be a good person while practicing the majority faith of the land you live in. Or, if it is possible, well, like the man said, "straight is the gate and narrow is the way, and few there be that find it."

The Episcopal Church has its own legacy of sin, they've long overlooked a laundry list of crimes to pay their own bills, so don't rush to congratulate a mainline bishop for preaching mainline Christianity or take too much pleasure from Trump and his fascist followers being surprised that that happened. But do remember this:

From the mid-1970s to the present, right-wing billionaires have poured a LOT of money into church expansion and maintenance conditional on them distorting the Bible's teachings to make it appear that Jesus was pro-fascist. "To deceive, if it were possible, the very elect." So when honest theologians tell you that this is literally anti-Christ, literally checks every box in the Bible's description of the future cult of anti-Christ, you need to hear us.

The modern book and movie image of "the Antichrist" was a well-funded propaganda campaign to distract you from the plain language of the scriptures. The biblical anti-Christ is not some socialist liberal peacenik. The biblical anti-Christ is everyone who tells you that Jesus wants you to be cruel to "the least of these, my brethren" so that they'll straighten up and fly right.

[yamujiburo]

A few months ago, some of you might know if you keep up with this blog, I went to Collect-A-Con LA. It was truly on a whim. Literally the day before my girlfriend and I had just come back from our Europe trip. Normally I'd be so tired and jetlagged but for some reason I was feeling really antsy and energized and just needed to go somewhere and get out of the house.

I found out that Collect-A-Con LA was happening the following day and that a lot of the original Pokemon voice cast would be there. So I bought a ticket, drew/printed up a picture that I wanted to get signed and got up early to drive to the convention center (you have to understand that I hate driving in town and also very much never wake up early). I don't know what possessed me to do this but I'm so glad I did.

I ended up having the privilege of meeting Eric Stuart, Veronica Taylor and of course, Rachael Lillis.

She was masked up, looked tired, and a bit sick. And at the time, I assumed she might've caught a cold over the weekend of the con. I went to her table and she still smiled and gave me all of her attention and time. I paid her assistant for an autograph, gave Rachael the drawing I'd done and she got to signing it. Her assistant said the print I had was cute and asked where I got it. I told her that I drew it myself and that I spent a LOT of my time drawing Team Rocket and other various Pokemon fanart. When I said that, Rachel stopped mid-sign and looked up and squinted at me and asked "are you Kiana Mai"? My heart skipped. I had no idea she knew who I was and was surprised that, given how many Pokemon fanartists there are in the world, she was able to pick me out. I left that interaction so happy and felt so seen. Soon after, I went to get my print signed by Veronica Taylor and while in her line, noticed Rachael had left her table; presumably not feeling well and had to leave the con early. I remember thinking how lucky I was to catch her before she left.

A couple months later, I saw the gofundme that her sister posted, detailing what Rachel was going through for the past few years and her battle with cancer. It put that convention day in such a different perspective for me.

All I could think about was how much she cared about her fans and how in touch with her community she was to go to a convention while being in so much pain and suffering in silence. I obviously don't know her personally, but based on how other fans who've met her, as well as her colleagues have spoken about her, I got the impression that she was an amazing, thoughtful person who cared about the people around her. That was only solidified for me based on this singular interaction a few months ago.

Rest in Peace Rachael Lillis. You've touched so many lives with your voice and so much of us grew up listening you. Thank you for everything!