#actually stand attention and hate what it seems to do to peoples brains….

[mtsainthelens]

i have no idea what to do w this blog tbh like i have a lot of weird baggage attached to it and it feels like a slight parasitic influence on my life and identity and a source of paranoia but it’s literally just a blog.

[whatsk-poppinhomies]

Pairing : college!ex-boyfriend!Han Jisung x F!Reader TW : MORE angst ; jealous Jisung ; fluffy ending though ; kind of suggestive ; Word Count : 1.2k Request : Anonny : OMG COLLEGE JISUNG WAS PAINFUL! You did such a great job with that one line he said outside the party. If requests are open, can I request an update on what happened during that week or after graduation? Nothing to be written out. I'm just so curious to know what happened to them! A/N : I know you said it doesn't have to be written out but I'm gonna write it out because my brain has way more to say than just a couple sentences!! I hope you enjoy!!

Roommates. It was weird for him. After 4 years of being so close to you, he had been bumped down to nothing but a roommate, and not even a roommate that you enjoyed living with. You avoided him at every turn, you didn’t talk to him, you didn’t even look at him.

Mornings where he’d wake up beside you, nuzzling his face into your neck as his arms wrapped tightly around your waist, tired giggles filling the room as you unsuccessfully tried to move away from him… they were gone. He missed you, he missed every single moment that he used to share with you.

Soft kitchen kisses when you’d both stand in the kitchen making breakfast, your eyes barely opened as you almost burnt the pancakes and bacon. Quiet yawns as his arms held onto you, your body leaning back against him as you almost fell asleep in the comfort of his hold.

He had been demoted to the couch, and while he found some sort of bittersweet happiness in the scent of you that clung to the cushions, it wasn’t you. The sofa was cold without you beside him, he could barely even sleep, his eyes refusing to close completely knowing that you were there, you were so close but so far away. He hated it, he hated that he had caused this, and he feared that there was no way to go back.

3 days until graduation and you were going out more often, something that Jisung wasn’t used to happening. It almost felt like you were doing it just to escape him. You didn’t like leaving the house, and it’s not like you were going shopping, you would always come back empty handed with the biggest smile on your face.

It was a smile that he was familiar with, the same kind of smile you’d wear whenever you’d go on dates together, whenever you’d so much as see him on campus. You were happy to see him… And now it seemed like you were happy to be seeing someone else.

His phone went crazy with notifications about the parties that were happening every single night almost, leading up to graduation. He ignored all of them. Parties weren’t his thing… not anymore. The thought of being surrounded by so many people made his skin crawl, being surrounded by the people that he had tried so hard to impress… And he still couldn’t figure out for himself why their thoughts mattered so damn much.

Friends… If they were really his friends they would have respected you… No… They weren’t his friends, they just liked having him around. He was the life of the party somehow, and even that didn’t make sense to him. He hated being around so many people… Why did he do it? What was so important about being popular? He wouldn’t know these people once these next 3 days are over. The only person he wanted to take with him once college was over was you, and you didn’t want that… You didn’t want him anymore.

1 day left until graduation, everyone was so excited, but he was terrified. Today would be the last day he got to actually be with you, to spend with you… And of course you were out again. Who the hell were you out with? Who had you going out so much? Who had gotten your attention like this and stolen you away from him?

You walked through the front door, once again bagless, showing him that you still weren’t shopping. He could see on your face, you were flustered, he knew that look quite well, he had made you look like that many times. You were giggly and giddy and when you shut the door behind you, you leaned against it, letting out the cutest little sigh. Is that how you reacted when you’d come back home after dates with him?

A date? A date?! That’s the only thing that made sense to him, and now he was… upset… he was jealous… he was pissed. “Yah!” He shouted, jumping up off the couch and storming over to you, his hand landing against the door right next to your head, caging you between him and the door. “Where were you? Huh!? What have you been doing? Who are you going out with?!”

Your little smile quickly fell when he was right in front of you and he hated that you seemed to be drained of all emotion when he was close to you. “It’s none of your business, Jisung.” You muttered, trying to duck under his arm, but he moved closer, pressing his chest against yours and pinning you there. “What are you doing?” You grunted, trying to push against him, but he wasn’t budging, his muscles flexing as he kept himself steady.

“I can’t fucking take it! It’s driving me bat shit crazy, and I hate seeing you happy if it’s not with me.” You rolled your eyes and his fist came down against the door with agitation. “Who are you going out with?! I’ll kick his ass, I swear to god!” He screeched, his head falling forward, his forehead resting against yours as he breathed heavily. “Who is it…? Just tell me, please… Are we really done?”

“You’re being ridiculous.” You mumbled, tilting your head away from him. “Don’t you have parties to attend? I’m sure everyone misses you.” You tried to push against him again, but he refused to move, his hands moving from the door to grip your hips, his head falling to your shoulder as he shuddered with quiet sobs.

“I don’t care who misses me… I want you to miss me… I miss you.” He whispered, desperately kissing along your shoulder, wanting you to feel something, wanting you to want him. “Fuck the parties… I want you… I just want you. Fuck, I miss you so fucking much!” He nibbled lightly on your neck, and he was more proud than he’d like to admit when you tilted your head to the side, a soft gasp leaving your lips. “Tell me who he is… Please, baby… Just tell me… Is he better than me?”

Your hands moved to his hair, your fingers tangling in it as you gently pulled him back, but the feeling of it had him moaning softly. “Are you jealous?” You cooed, a small smirk playing on your lips, and he didn’t even care how smug you were right now. He was jealous, and he nodded quickly. “I was with my mom… We’re getting things set up for when I move back in with her.”

He couldn’t help but stare blankly at you, blinking rapidly as his mouth fell open, and then your words sank in and his lips were latching back onto your neck, kissing and sucking against your skin ruthlessly before moving up to your lips, his teeth sinking into your bottom lip. “Why… Why did you look so happy? Why were you giggling? Hmm?” He questioned through heavy breaths, and you snorted softly as you cupped his cheeks.

“Because I know how you get… I knew you’d get jealous…” You teased, squishing his cheeks before kissing him once more. “It worked, and now you know how I felt at the party… Well, before you insulted me… Which I’m still pissed about by the way.”

“I’m sorry!” He shouted quickly, his bottom lip jutted out as his eyes widened. “We’re… We’re not done though… Are we? I don’t even want to party… I just want you.” His fingers were gripping your shirt so tight, the fabric balled up in his palms as he stepped back, leading you to the couch. “I want to spend my life with you… Every second of every day… Please…”

[hyuckkaiji]

even the stars do not compare to you - abby anderson × f!reader

summary; you and abby are both fools. fools who have loved each other while thinking the other incapable of reciprocating. fools whose feelings are finally out in the open.

word count; 1.8k

warnings; momentarily sad abby

note; abby anderson brain rot. she is my precious baby girl, and I'll give her the whole world if she'll let me

∘₊✧───── ─── ─────✧₊∘

Owen had been Abby's first, well her only, everything. But truthfully, he'd never been her first choice. He was what was left when she realized she couldn't have what she wanted.

And don't mistake that for her not having love for Owen. She does. She loved him once. It was a true love of sorts. And he has cemented his place in her heart, albeit small. There wasn't much room for him to take up, not when you occupied the rest of it. You occupy it still.

You have seeped into her, mind , body, and soul. She is infected by you. It seems the more she tries to stop it, the further you spread. You've claimed her, soiled her, left her unattainable to those around her. And you don't even know it.

That's the fucked up part, gods be good, she's yours and you don't even know it. She has to satiate her desire for you with mere friendship. She feels like a dog on the streets begging for scraps, for any measly form of sustenance. But if you need her to beg, she will.

Clearly, you need her to beg. It's been almost two weeks since she's seen you. You were fine last she saw, but it feels like you're avoiding her.

Volunteering at any open tasks, never on patrol with her. She doesn't understand. For years now, the two of you have been attached at the hip. Going so far as to switch shifts just so you can patrol together, but now, all of a sudden. She doesn't get it.

She did something she not particularly proud of, she's already established she'll beg ... it just has to be in person. She can't write down these thoughts to get your attention, she'll seem ... weak. So instead she asked Manny to find you, to tell you she's looking for you and it's an emergency.

There's no emergency, no that's a lie. The lack of your presence is an emergency, and you're the only solution.

"Abby." The sound of your voice startles her out of her thoughts. You didn't knock. You never do. Abby doesn't mind. She actually enjoys that you walk into her space like you own it. Because you do, not that you know that. At the very least, it makes her happy that you know she'd never deny you her space.

"Manny said you were looking for me, something serious." Concern laced your voice but you'd still yet to walk up to Abby the way you normally would, keeping your distance. Standing at the base of the stairs as she looked up you.

Her braid was loose at the end, starting to fall apart, she'd just finished pulling the band out when you interrupted her. She looks pretty with her hair down, at least you think so. But she hardly ever has it down, it's a vulnerable thing for her. And how she's hates being vulnerable.

"Yea." She stands, rubbing a sheepish hand over the back of her neck, "I've been trying to catch you for over a week now." She's walking towards you, and you want her to come closer. Want to feel the warmth that radiates off of her, want the scent of pine waft around you. But you take a step back.

A look of hurt passes over Abby's face, stopping in her tracks. "Why have you been avoiding me? Did I do something wrong?" Her thumb nails flicks against her forefinger, picking at the skin around her nail. An anxious habit.

"No." Your voice is small. You're not sure what else to say, how to voice what you've been feeling, if you even should. You had decided against it, decided just to distance yourself as much as possible, but now, being confronted like this, your decision wavers.

People underestimate Abby. Yes, she's big, but she's also fast, faster than you. She up the last few remaining steps, inches away from you, fingers locked around your wrist, all before you have time to say another word.

"Then why are you avoiding me?"

"I'm not."

"Liar." You are a liar, you've always been a liar, at least when it came to Abby. The truth was a weight you chose to bear alone, you say choose but really your fear had forced the decision. Fear of losing her should you come clean.

"Abby." You try and pry her hand away, but her grip holds firm, just enough to keep you near her, but not enough to hurt you. Never enough to hurt you, Abby would never hurt you. You let out an exasperated sigh, giving up, letting your hands fall at your sides.

"Sometimes... people grow ... apart." She says nothing, a beat of silence before you continue, "It's a part of life. People get older, they change, friendships don't always last forever." Her brow is furrowed, she nawing at the inside of her lip. The two of you ... grow apart ... it's not possible.

"You were fine last time I saw you. How long have you been feeling like this?" Her hair had fallen loose in her rush up the stairs, falling in waves around her face. Damn every God, she looks so beautiful with her hair down.

"A while. I didn't know how to tell you." Abby looks you over, you're lying. She's known you for as long as she can remember, she's loved you for as long as she could remember. She knows you, do you not know that? She knows when you're lying.

"Tell me the truth."

"I am-"

"The truth. Now." She's angry, like she has any right to be angry at you. This is her fault. Your resolve is shattered, how dare she be mad, how fucking dare she. This is her fucking fault.

"You wanna know the problem, Abigail?" You sneer at her. "You're the problem. You. I cannot stand being around you. I can't stand seeing your face everyday, hearing your voice, smelling you in the air. For fucks sake that stupid scent  of that stupid fucking soap clings to everything and I hate it. You are the problem."

She finally lets you go. She's on the verge of tears, but the tense tick of her jaw tells you she's not going to let them fall. "Alright... if that's how you feel." The guilt settles, deep in the pit of your stomach, you feel nauseous.

"Abs..." Your voice trails off.

"Just go."

"Abby." You reach out for her hand but she pulls it away.

"Go."

"I can't. I can't because you're right, I'm a liar." And a coward, damn the universe for making you, damn it for making her. She says nothing, only stares at you her anger is palpable, no, not anger, hurt, her hurt. Liar, coward, you add monster to the list.

"That wasn't true ... I don't know why I said it like that."

"It sure felt true."

"Abby..."

"How else could you have possibly meant it?"

Liar, coward, monster, idiot. Your list of personal descriptors is ever growing.

"I do hate those things." Abby huffs, looking away from you. "But not because I hate you ... Abby, even the stars do not compare to you. I have never see so beautiful a person nor I have I been enamored with anyone other than you."

"Do you know what it's like? To be in love with someone for so long and you can't say or do anything about it? To watch as they get with some ignorant douche who doesn't treat them the way they deserve?"

"To be in love with someone who only sees you as a friend? To be the shoulder they cry on about their shitty partner?" You shake you head, running a hand through your hair. You catch Abby's eyes, she's staring at you with this look of utter shock.

"I don't know when the years just became one too many, but they did and I can't keep doing this to myself. I can't get over you if I'm always around you."

Your name slips from her lips, like a mortal who has just come across their deity in the flesh. Oh she must be dreaming, then she's laughing.

It's your turn to be hurt, to cross your arms over your chest defensively. Watching as she giggles like a mad woman before wiping away a stray tear. "Pinch me, I want proof I'm awake."

"Abigail."

"Yes?" She smiling at you, big doe eyes watching you. Fuck you're so hopelessly in love with her, what made you think you had the self control to stay away from her.

"I'm not joking ... I'm in love with you."

She pulls your arms free just to take one of your hands in her own, running a callused thumb over your knuckles.

"Do you remember, when we were sixteen and we'd snuck out to watch the stars?" You nod.

"Do you remember asking me what I dream about? Asking me if you think the stars would grant our wishes if we told them?"

"You told me you dreamed of freedom and that the stars were just gas in space, not genies. And that they weren't even that pretty." Abby let's out a breathy laugh.

"I've never dreamed of freedom, I dreamed of you. And the stars are just gas, I'd come to realize that by then. If the stars could grant wishes they would have answered mine."

"I used to tell them my secrets, but they never made them come true."

"What...what did you tell them?"

"That I was in love with a girl, a girl so beautiful she took my breath away every time I saw her. I told them that I wanted to be hers, I wanted her to love me the way I loved her."

"When we were sixteen I hated the stars for ignoring my prayers. But it seems I was wrong, they had been listening all along. Though I maintain they really aren't that pretty, not in comparison to you."

Abby leaned in, her lips ghosting over yours, asking permission, you closed the gap. Wrapping your arms around her neck.

It was soft, sweeter than any kiss either of you had before. All gentle caresses and light wandering fingers trailing exposed skin.

Abby pulled you to her bed, pushing you down in between pecks. She hovered over you, "If i wake up and this was all a dream, I'm gonna be so fucking mad." Her lips are back on yours before softly trailing down your neck.

Her kisses are cool and open mouthed on your warm skin. She kisses her way down to your chest before letting her weight slowly settle on you. She rests her head, using your breasts as a pillow. "Promise I won't wake up by myself."

"I Promise." You wrap one arm around her, tracing random patterns on her clothed shoulders and back, the other falls into her hair running gentle fingers through her dirty blonde tresses. With in no time she's fallen asleep, feeling safer and more loved in your arms then she ever did in Owen's.

[deeply-unserious-fellow]

Something I don't like about a lot of Vox takes I see is that they tend to portray Vox as someone who's unpleasant to work with and has weird ideas about what partnership means when really... he's not? He's not and he doesn't. It's just that two of the most prominent interactions we've seen him have are with Valentino(who is a fucking NIGHTMARE to work with) and Alastor(a man he has undisclosed, deeply emotional history with). But everyone seems to discount his OTHER important relationship: Velvette. Which by all accounts, is INCREDIBLY normal.

Like, yeah, their first interaction opens with her yelling at him, but that's less about Vox himself and more about Valentino. As they keep talking throughout the first bit of the episode, she starts calming down, and they just seem to genuinely get along? She has every right to look upset during Stayed Gone because Vox is being really weird and she's nOT THE ONE WHO ACTIVELY ENCOURAGED HIM TO DO THIS SHIT(staring directly at Val rn), but even then during the meeting after Stayed Gone she does actually. Participate. Unlike s o m e people. Despite being on her phone the whole time(which is literally her job-), she actually pays attention and contributes real ideas! Which tbh she didn't have to do at ALL like she did not have to put up w/ Vox's bs in RKtVS the way she did. There's also their phone call during the overlord meeting which, while I definitely think Vel was playing it up to annoy Carmilla, still sounded like a conversation between two ppl who genuinely like and respect eachother!

No matter what you think their relationship is(romantic, platonic, etc...), Vox and Velvette seem to get along REALLY well(outside of Alastor-related incidents). Like, better than either of them do with literally anybody else in the show. Vox & Val do LIKE eachother, but I find whatever the fuck is going on beneath the after the battles & masterless cattles to be DEEPLY upsetting to think about for too long(ex; any of my other posts abt their relationship), and the only other interactions we've seen either Vox or Vel have are Stayed Gone & Respectless, which are literally just song battles. Both of their only interactions outside of the Vees have been song battles. Aw fuck I'm getting off topic... BACK TO THEIR RELATIONSHIP AS COLLEAGUES- okay uh basically, I don't think they would get along this well if Vox was a terrible person to work with(note I said WORK WITH. Hate that I need to specify this but I don't think Vox is a good person overall, just a good business partner). I think Velvette is generally a good bench mark for both Vox & Valentino's relationships with other characters because she's their equal, their friend, and isn't in a weird toxic relationship with either of them. Their interactions with her provide a window into how they just generally interact with people. And based off of their interactions, Vox seems to be actually pretty decent to work with when he isn't being Actively Provoked for shits and giggles or trying to sooth the tantrum of a man child. Also when he views you as an equal and doesn't own your soul that helps too.

Edit: Hiiiiiiii just here to say that now, in the light of day, I don't really agree with everything I've said in this post? I wrote it at midnight while like half asleep so my ability to consider the fact that. We barely know anything about either Vox or Velvette at this point in time. Was kind of impaired I think. Cuz we really don't. I do stand by everything I said about their relationship to EACHOTHER, and I stand by the idea that we should take that dynamic into consideration for character analysis more often, but everything else I'm a little iffy on and I just woke up like an hour ago so my brains still a little fuzzy & I can't explain exactly WHY I'm iffy on it, but just know that I think the conclusion I drew is a bit of a leap in logic at the very least and I recognize that now lol

[kel-lance]

Yandere! Gojo x Reader Part 2

Ik part 1 was short, but the meats will be in the next part ;p

Here're the potatoes though

———————MDNI---------DDDR--------TW——————————

“You know I’m obsessed with you right?” Your senses were failing you. All you could do was hear first, then the physical feeling in your body shot back to you, causing you to throw up this mornings meal a foot away from where you were laying before. Your face stickier now with this mess, joining your tears and blood. You lay back down on the concrete floor, trying to catch your breath, praying he’ll give you a moment to breathe, but knowing him, this is almost his favorite part. 

“You’re doing so good, baby.” He crouched down to where you lay. 

“What the fuck was with the nicknames?”

He caresses your cheek as you breathe heavily, trying to regulate yourself from the pain. “Look at me (y/n).” Ge grabs your chin and picks it up, raising you with his two fingers.

Your vision’s blurry as you don’t throw up easily, your whole body is burning and your limbs are numb from being locked up from his previous heimlich’s. You were exhausted, pissed even but not injured bad enough to stop this week’s missions. No, nothing can stop you from completing one. Your streak is strong, they could rely on you, there was nothing more important than washing this guilt you paid to carry. But right now, you could care less about his power trip, his ego, just everything about him screamed entitled. 

He helps you sit yourself up, stomach on fire and head splitting open. Catching your breath, he holds your back for support, eating up the view in front of him. He’s obviously excited in so many ways, you thought he was actually smiling at you for a second. Not one of his “I’m that guy” “ME Me ME” “Look at this” any kind of attention seeking shit eating grin that he looked like he practice in the mirror for years. 

“That’s so odd, I’m having fun with a weakling. You, too, are nothing against me. But why does it feel so good when my hits land?” He raises his hand at causing you to at least close your eyes for contact, bracing for your brain to shake against your skull with his infamous one handed knock outs, but laughs at your reaction. 

“There’s always a bored feeling, like the action was a responsibility for me. I have to hurt the weak to protect the weaker. I don’t get breaks. I don’t get release. Won’t you help me out, (y/n)?” He shoved his two fingers down your throat to help you get an answer out.

“When you’re done, make sure to clean me up.” You gagged. You knew he hated you. He wanted to know everything about you his first year here. While you were climbing the ranks, he watched and studied you. Not like he’d have to put in much effort into schooling anyway, he was a prodigy after all. 

Yet since the tragedy in your first year, you’ve become a completely different person. Your team is still on you about it, rather your new team keeps trying to understand you, know you, see you, hear you, but you’re not going to let more people get hurt. You’d rather they hate you than let them die (fr) of a little mystery. 

Gojo stopped shoving his fingers into your mouth, not caring if his nails scratch all around before. “Woah, senpai, you’re letting me go there?” 

He holds onto your shoulder for support to stand and sighed. “Rest up then~” Before you could read his body, his fist collided with the side of your head. Your ear felt like it exploded. Your vision went black again.

————————

“How much longer are you gonna sleep?” You feel a heaviness on your side as you laid on your back.

“Fuck.” You were still with Gojo. The pain seemed to have subsided greatly but that won’t help the confusion from blacking out twice.

“Where are we?” 

“This is my house! Welcome!” Gojo presses his weight on you as he leans closer to you, looking a mixed of relieved and excited. It definitely made your stomach turn.. 

He helps you sit up and you look around, just imagine the “most generic modern house for a high schooler”, it’s just insane. Large living room with skylights, connected to the kitchen, dining room, main hallway, leading to the maze you know it took to get you to this couch. “Dude, what-“

“Don’t call me that.” You turn your head and his welcoming smile before became just a cold look. He rolls his eyes and lets out a sigh. He turns his entire body towards you and leans forward, both his large arms are hugging your sides but your back hurt from all the weight. 

“…Gojo.” 

“You’re breaking my heart, doll.” He sighs like you should’ve know better. “I’m over here giving you every name in the book and you just have dude? Bro?” He leans in further, threatening to break your back, slowly adding more power to his new found squeeze on your wrists. “Try again.” 

This is terribly embarrassing, maybe it’s best he chose somewhere more private to talk. “Satoru…” You were trying your best, what else would you call someone you barely knew? You should really try asking him that.

“That’s better.” He smiles but his eyes stay the same. “It’s not enough,” He hooks and grabs the hair at the back of your head, pulling you to face him, “Try… it… again.” 

He’s shaking, harder than you, trying so hard to contain himself. You could feel his dark aura grew thick and potent, his grip on your wrist was so close to snapping, you swallowed your pride in the name of your next mission. 

“Since this is our first time officially meeting,” This was embarrassing as is, but will you go against or play along? “I’ll call you Sa-san.” 

He blinks like he refreshed. “It’s something. Original compared to my ex girlfriends’ pet names.” He looked away like he was trying to remember which was his favorite, and pondered if yours was better. “I like it.” 

“…Why do you need to bringing them up?” You lean back into him now, making yourself small under him, testing out the power dynamic. Did he really want you like he said? Would that create an opportunity for you? Hopefully. No sane person would actually be happy and enjoy being kidnapped by the most handsome, rich, powerful, popular guy at school.

His eyes matched his smile. “You’re so cute, are you jealous?” He lets go of your wrist and hugs you tighter, shaking you side to side excitedly. 

“No, I just don’t get the thought process. I still barely understand what’s going on right now and why you’re being like this.” 

You realized right now there’s no point. They’re not going to expel him for kidnapping, and it’s not like anyone else would want to speak up with you and go against the Gojo’s. They have people who love and would defend them, put their own lives at risk just to get a bit of their attention, even if you got out of this house, he could give one simple order and have the hounds search and feast on your remains. People born in power disgusted you, it wasn’t fair.

His playful demeanor once again goes as fast as it arrived. “Are you fucking hard of hearing or do you not care?” He put his chin on one side of your neck as he tugged your ear on the other. “Have you not been listening to me this entire time?” 

You wince from the pain but look away from him. “It’s not like you’re not serious.”

“And why would you think that?” He pulled your ear harder and moved his hand tot he back of your head, balling up your hair to make you face to face. “What? That a nobody like you would be wanted so badly by someone like me?” You were getting so annoyed with the sudden mood changes. 

Sure, your cursed technique was adaption, a form of Reversed cursed technique, but this wasn’t an enemy others were calling you to exorcize. Instead this demon saw and latched itself onto you. An embodied curse of a certain feeling. 

“More like you get to do whatever you want and I’ve been avoiding that warpath, I have my own plans.” He could never understand the life you lived. Much less have so much fun toying with someone who wasn’t interested it was fine because you could handle it.

“But I want you, so you’re mine.” 

What logic- that just pissed you off.

“I don’t need this,” You break forward, away from him. “I don’t need you and I sure as hell got to be the top student at JJH by myself, not because I was just born with rare powers or good looks or the apathy you need to survive in this world, I”m done.” You use your shoulders to loosen his playful hold.  “Do you know how stupid you look when you go around acting like that?” 

You’ve snapped. “I’ve seen how you are and hear you, but it’s embarrassing.” This is how you’re gonna get the upper hand now, if those feelings were real then would be able to flow your way out of this and then run or kill him. No one gets this far with Satoru, maybe he’s just having a breakdown. Being the strongest would definitely be difficult… if he had a heart. 

Shit. “Maybe he’ll realize what he’s doing,” The small voice in your head was trying to calm you down with excuses, it was always something that made you go easy on your opponents. You had heart for them and want to hear them out til the end, even in an evil way sometimes when they’re just that terrible, but that doesn’t seem likely now. 

“I was right about you. You’re perfect.” 

You were about to register for your body to move, your legs should have started running but he was just so fast. One hand pinning down your shoulder, the other feeling down your side, squeezing almost like his fingers were tasting your skin. He finds your neck. 

First biting harshly, then kissing and licking each mark hungrily. His hold on your arms to your own chest has your breathing labored. You felt so much as your breathing stayed limited, not wanting to test him in this position. 

Gojo moves you onto his lap now, you can already feel his heartbeat on every surface you touched. With bored eyes you let him do what he wants as you’ve lived through worse, 

“So good~.” He was trying to eat you you swear, your skin now decorated with marks wherever Sa-san could reach. He was marking you, literally. You don’t even know what to do after. If things aren’t too bad, you’ll be going straight to Geto and Nanami after this. You thought about it a bit more and might have to rethink that since Shoko must’ve been the one to clean you up. 

You have to decide now, play along to get to your mission faster? Or will there be no option to leave after this? You’ll just have to put him to sleep to see. 

[miller-n-morgan]

And I Feel Fine (.ii)

Joel Miller x Jackson!Reader

18+, mdni

Summary: A new journey lies ahead, and on the very first night you become sure of something that will completely change the trajectory of your entire future.

Warnings: leaving most of the warnings the same because they apply. mentions of death, violence, gore, blood, mentions of sex abuse and trafficking. Mentions of teenage pregnancy. Mention of drugs and substances. Again, literally has ✨️the works.✨️

Word Count: 7k (i'm going absolutely wild)

Now we're cookin'.... enjoy this slice of my brain that I spent entirely too long on. And also know that the first part of the Arthur Morgan series will probably drop this week.

Series Masterlist

“I ain’t shittin’ you.” You were fine to leave it at that, but he sure as hell wasn’t. For a guy that hated long conversations, he seemed to like poking around in your business.  “And what makes you think that?”  You honestly didn’t want to tell him. He’s not Tommy, he might make fun of you, might store away the information later on and use it against you. You have no idea, actually. You don’t know him. 

Your contact had gotten you to an apartment. It was worn down, just as every other place in the QZ seemed to be, but it was better taken care of. The people living here must have been attentive about the appearance of their home. A good enough family to leave your baby with. 

She stopped you in the hallway, knocking three times on the old wood door, hearing a lively voice from the otherside before it opened. The woman standing there was lovely, about thirty or so, a half smile on her face when she saw you both had arrived. This plan had been in the works for some time now. 

“Hello, I’m Maxine Williams,” she greeted, reaching for your hand to shake. You did your best to match her kind and infectious energy, giving her a smile in return. She is after all going to be doing you the favor of a lifetime. 

“It’s nice to meet you,” you replied, keeping your head low between your shoulders, though you felt comfortable in her presence. 

She leaned into your contact, turning her head, but you heard the whisper “She’s so young…” 

“S’why she needs help.” 

You understood that this didn’t look right. You should not be pregnant at your tender age, should not have been put in this position. You’ve seen more horrific things than any person ever should, and it all started when you were eight… outbreak day. 

“Of course… come in, both of you.”

The pleasantries went on for a while, exchanging information of where you came from, why you were in this area, what you did before being in Boston. She mentioned her husband, her two sons and their love for older things, wishing for the world the way it was. It was all just small talk, leading up to the actual conversation topic: the baby she was about to take off your hands. 

“You’ll stay with us until the birth, if that’s okay,” she offered, but it sounded more like a demand. It wasn’t a harsh or cruel one. Even if you slept on the rickety couch you were lounging upon now, it would be better than camping in the woods, sleeping on the hard ground like you’d been doing only a month ago. 

“I’ll do whatever you want me to.”

Your contact was happy to see both ends so receptive. She’d never seen a deal containing human life go down this smoothly. Probably because this was a bit more sensitive of an exchange. 

“Good… that’s good. I’ve heard you’re interested in a closed adoption?” 

You glanced down at your stomach, feeling the weight of it, crushing inwards on the rest of your body. Having this baby and giving it away will relieve the weight both physically and metaphorically. They’ll be in good hands, better than your own could ever be. 

“I think it’s probably best. I used to have siblings, but I never really took care of them… I’m not sure I could do this,” You shook your head. You saw her younger son peeking his head out of the bedroom door in the corner, backing away as soon as you caught him. Even in an apocalypse, a child can be happy… just not with you. “I want to give them their best chance.”

“I understand…  and we’re going to do our best to make sure they have a normal childhood,” she responded, leaning forward and placing a comforting hand on your knee. 

“Thank you…”

You had sat down on one of the containment units, feeling as though the adrenaline rush from the ambush was beginning to wear off. Tommy found Maria not far away from where you were sitting, and began to ask his special favor. It was crazy, he knew it, you knew it… but it had to be done. This girl was somehow important, to the fireflies and to all of mankind, and you were starting to wonder why. Joel hadn’t said a word, sitting across from you and awaiting the news that would surely come from his brother’s discussion with his wife. 

“So, you’ve been traveling with Ellie?” 

He looked up at you from his boot laces, his eyes were heavy, and he didn’t seem in the mood to talk. He was grumpy in nature, but you could tell there was more underneath the tough exterior.

“I have.” And no further explanation was given. 

You didn’t think it was best to keep trying your luck, keep on asking him questions. He wasn’t the talking type and you figured you’d be wasting your time… but speak of the devil, Ellie came up to him just as the conversation between Tommy and Maria was getting heated. 

“What’s that all about?” She nodded in their direction. She looked scared, like a deer caught in headlights, just not as frozen. Wide eyed and unable to look away from the scene. “Does that have anything to do with me?” 

She was smart, she’d pick up on the words they were saying - more like yelling - to each other. The context clues were there, Joel would have to be an idiot to think she’d just let him off the hook. 

“We’ll talk about it later…” he grumbled, his annoyance already at a high from your unimportant questions and the fighting in the background. 

“Did he tell you where the lab is?” She asked, her eyebrows furrowing as she got even closer to hear them. 

The lab? Is that where the fireflies would be? You vaguely remember the days you spent with the resistance group, but you don’t remember anything about a lab…

“We’ll talk about it later,” he repeated himself, almost as a warning. 

She turned to Tommy and Maria, then back to Joel, her face one of distrust and sadness. She knew, she could tell. Joel was trying to get rid of her. 

You wanted to say something, to jump in and tell her that she didn’t need to be scared, didn’t need to be worried about where she was going. That you would go with her and it would be okay… but that wouldn’t help a damn thing. Even if you turn out to be her biological mother, you are most definitely not her mom, and cannot console her as one.

“Later… right,” she trailed, backing away from Joel and off to another sectional of the checkpoint. 

Joel looked back to you, your eyes already on him. 

He sighed, at first not saying a word… but when he made a full rotation of his eyeline and you were still staring holes into him, he had to speak up. 

“If you’re lookin’ to judge me, then just-.” 

“I’m not.” 

Your interruption cut him off, and he didn’t really know what else to say. He nodded, not looking away from you, but rather trying to figure out what it is you needed from him. Your stare was not discomforting but it felt demanding. It wanted something.

“How long have you known her?” You finally spit out, tucking a leg under your elbow as you sat back. You knew you’d gotten his attention, now. 

“Few months, now. I’m supposed to take her to the fireflies as a favor to someone.” 

“What do the fireflies want with a fourteen year old kid?” 

He sighed, raising his shoulders in a shrug like he didn’t know. He must’ve been lying, right? You’d gotten pretty good at reading people, but for some reason you couldn’t tell with him. Maybe you just didn’t know him well enough… 

“M’not really sure. All I knew in the beginning was that I could get paid pretty well, so I took her.”

You nodded. He didn’t seem like the person that did things for the sake of them, Tommy had told you stories about him, the things he used to do. If it was for his survival, he’d do it… but just for the sake of getting paid? When barely anything left had real monetary value? It sounded like bullshit. 

“She seems to trust you an awful lot,” you gestured between him and the empty space she’d left. 

There was another beat of silence, to which he didn’t use for reply. Instead he sat, his back curled over and his shoulders sunken inwards. He was tired, he was worn. He needed to rest, but this life wouldn’t let him.

“She knows you’re handing her off…”

“I reckon she does, yeah.” 

And right over your shoulder you heard the climax of Tommy and Maria’s argument. She held a pointed finger in his face, before he finally insisted on Joel’s plan. She couldn’t move him. He was going to do this whether she liked it or not… which is something you haven’t seen out of Tommy for years. Joel must mean a hell of a lot to him, to up and leave Maria on a dangerous errand like this. 

You stay seated when Maria walks over to Joel, and then when Joel stands up to talk to Tommy. You stay seated and think… I can keep Tommy safe. I’ve got nothing to lose, and everything to gain from learning about this girl. I can bring him home to Maria, even if it means my life. 

But you immediately stand when you hear Tommy’s rapid speech. “That girl of yours. she took one of our horses and rode off,” and then he glanced at you with an eyeroll. “She took provoker…”

You huffed a sigh, following the men over to the front of the sectional, the open trail up ahead. Maria was mad at Tommy, so obviously she wouldn’t be accompanying them… and that left you. Casper didn’t like men. 

“Damnit, which way?” Joel asked, his steps were heavy on the muddy ground. 

“I just saw her riding out of here!” Terry yelled, loosening the reins on two more horses he’d brought over for assistance. 

“Alright, get back inside, help the others clean the place up,” Tommy told the man, nodding for you to mount the back of his horse after he’d climbed up himself. You chanced a look at Joel, riding across from you both. His face was mixed with anger and determination, and it reminded you of what Tommy looked like after hours of hunting. They were the epitome of brothers, though you’d never met the other half before. 

You all followed the tracks, leading every which way it seemed. Some of the tracks were fresh, and some were older, but it was hard to tell when the grounds here were moist all the time, never really drying up and creating lasting prints on the dirt. 

After a while of riding, and running into some raiders - who were easily fended off - you saw your horse standing in front of an old farmhouse, the reins tied to a pole holding up the roof of the porch. You jumped from Tommy’s mare and ran up to Casper, petting his mane and making sure he was alright. There didn’t seem to be a scratch on him. 

You watched Joel enter the house, waiting back with Tommy. Even though Joel was the one she ran away from, you couldn’t imagine she’d be thrilled to see you or Tommy instead. Joel had a good reason to do what he did. He didn’t feel strong enough or fast enough for this job anymore. He didn’t feel like he could keep her safe. You unfortunately understood that feeling a little too well, and if you were correct on your suspicions, it would have been with the exact same kid. 

Tommy unstrapped his gun from his back, holding it steady and watching the surroundings whilst he leaned against the porch beam you were standing by. He was trying to gage whether or not your horse was calm enough for him to approach you closer, knowing what would happen if he wasn’t. 

“I think you’re right, you know…” He trailed, his voice quiet on the off chance of an open window. 

“You do?” 

You turned to him, you didn’t exactly have to think twice about what he meant. 

“Yeah,” he nodded, a chuckle falling from his lips. “It makes sense… the timing n’ everything. She looks a hell of a lot like you… and she’s caused about as much trouble today as the first time I met you.”

“Causing trouble is genetic?” You laughed, your eyes watering a bit at the implications he made. She might be yours. Your daughter, who you didn’t think you’d see again. 

“Hell, it might be. Your kinda trouble, anyway… stealin’ horses and shit.”

The nod of your head was slow, the thought of this all sinking in. It made perfect sense and yet coming to terms with the facts of ‘it is’ instead of ‘it could be’ makes you feel light headed.

You didn’t know if he was being serious or if he was just trying to make you feel better, but the look on his face told you the former. He wouldn’t just lie to you, he knew you could read him. 

“I keep turning it over in my head, tryin’ to think of ways I could prove it to myself… I think just seein’ her was enough for me. I’m remembering things I thought I forgot about a long time ago.”

Now it was his turn to nod, but your moment was caught short when you heard a branch snap around the corner. You instinctively pulled your gun from your pants, holding it out in the direction the snap came from. Tommy raised his rifle, doing the same and gesturing for you to go inside. You both made it in the doorway before the threat made itself known. Two guys, coming around the corner. They hadn’t realized you were watching them yet, but they did a quick scan, making sure there wasn’t any immediate danger. 

“Get upstairs,” he said in a whisper, but you snapped your head to face him. 

“No way, the odds are even if I stay,” you argued, but he wasn’t exactly in the mood for a fight right now. It was too risky to have you both down here. 

“Go tell Joel to get his ass down here, you stay up with the kid.” 

“Like hell I’m going up there. Your brother scares me,” you say in a half joking mumble, keeping watch on the two strangers that were now surrounding your horse. They were about to get kicked in the ass if they didn’t step away. 

Tommy realizes that them being distracted gives a good amount of time to leave without cover. 

“Alright, but you first,” he shrugged a shoulder towards the staircase, and with one last glance to your horse, you left your corner by the window. 

You quickly ran up the stairs, ducking a head in a few rooms before finding the one Joel and Ellie were in. 

“Get it together, we’re not alone,” Tommy said as soon as you got inside the door.

“I got two walking in,” Joel leaned towards the sliding window to get some eyes on the situation. 

“There’s more inside already…”

 You backed against the door, Tommy against the dresser on the opposite side. Joel stepped over in front of you, and Ellie behind Tommy. You didn’t realize until now, but taking a glance at Ellie, she looked even worse than when she left. Her face was sullen and her head was dropped. She didn’t seem to be snapping into reality, even with the weight of the situation. 

You stayed by her throughout the house, when Tommy and Joel started shooting, you stood in front of her, covering them from back behind. It was weird, these maternal feelings that had never sparked within you before, only now arising for this specific human that had no clue who you were. 

Once outside, it seemed strange. The dynamic between the four of you was so incredibly awkward. Everyone was thinking on a different topic, and the silence could echo on for miles. You nodded for Ellie to mount the back of your horse, since she didn’t seem comfortable to ride with Joel for the time being. She climbed up behind you and for a second you smiled, because this is your daughter, you know it… but soon after, your mind quickly succumbed to the general silence.

The nature and scenery surrounding you seemed to be duller than before, the pretty autumnal colors becoming ugly in the sense that you didn’t appreciate them right now. You loved the beginning of fall, but the feelings spread among you are tense and terrible, worse than raking up the fallen leaves before winter. 

The feeling never leaves, it stays until you all reach the edge of the town. 

-

“I’m not hungry,” you swore, shoving the extra plate of food away from your placemat.

Manxine’s husband was hungry, and you’d noticed him and his wife being decent enough to give you some of their food the past few days. It wasn’t necessary, because you weren’t working, and you weren’t barely helping them. They were helping you, and you couldn’t be more grateful. Taking extra food that wasn’t just lying around felt like stealing. You’d never been a stranger to it before, but these people were far too kind, too gentle. They made you feel like maybe the world wasn’t completely at its end. It still turned, and people were still good, despite everything. 

“Yes you are, and you should be,” Maxine pushed the plate back in front of you. Her goal had been to ‘put a little meat on your bones’ as long as you were under her roof. 

“I’m fine, I promise.”

“Promise or no promise, you need to eat more. You’re still too thin to try and survive childbirth, ya hear?” She put the old fork back into your open hand, and you sighed. It was sometimes hard to eat more than you normally did, on the account of your body not being used to it. If you ate more than usual would it make you sick? If you threw up the extra rations they were spotting you, you’d feel terrible, but she kept insisting. 

You opened your mouth to take a bite, swallowing it down and feeling the slight discomfort start to settle. Already you’d been eating a lot more than before the QZ, and you didn’t realize how slowly your appetite would have to grow. 

After a few more bites you had to drop the fork to your plate, feeling too full already to keep on. You felt terrible, refusing extra portions that were meant to keep you healthy. Whether or not it was caused by the pregnancy hormones, or just your own emotional breakdown, you weren’t sure… but you started tearing up while sitting at the table. 

“I’m sorry,” you shook your head, covering your mouth and sitting back while the tears rolled down. 

“Don’t you apologize, sweetheart,” Maxine uttered softly, her presence at your side immediately. 

To her, none of this effort was wasted, or overdone. She and her husband, though some of the better off people in the QZ by job merritt, couldn’t seem to have another baby. It wasn’t for the lack of trying, or stress that they couldn’t afford it. It was simply the fact that after six years from their last child, they couldn’t conceive another. This baby, your baby, was going to be a gift to them. They were happy to take any necessary steps into getting you to childbirth. 

“I just can’t eat anymore,” you tried to justify your emotions, but now it only looked like an overreaction. People are dying without food, and here you are, crying about there being too much. 

“It’s alright. Leftovers don’t go to waste in this house,” she spoke, a bit of a chuckle in her tone, which alleviated some of the pressure you felt. 

“Okay,” you nodded, letting her take your plate to the other room, likely where her husband had retired to. 

The campfire was crackling, the smoke filling the hazy navy color of the dark sky. Trees had covered it mostly, but there were a few stars peaking here and there. You’d just finished a can of chicken soup, tossing it on the pile that had been started by the others. It was crazy, how you suddenly remembered so much, just by eating food out of a can again. Days on the run, with the fireflies, being a raider even… it all came back. 

It had only been a few hours or so since leaving Jackson, but after the fiasco of today, the three of you had gotten extremely tired a lot earlier than you should have. 

The three of you meaning: Yourself, Joel and Ellie. 

After the silence of the horse ride back to the commune, something had changed. Joel realized not only what Ellie meant to him, but what he means to Ellie. He’d decided Tommy was no longer required, and that he could fare the journey on his own. Of course, you immediately volunteered an extra pair of hands and a quick gun as assistance. To your surprise, it was Ellie who was your greatest advocate. Her, and the fact that you remembered the lab’s location, could probably get her there on your own if you had to. 

The mirror building… you don’t remember it being a lab, but as soon as Tommy said the words it jogged your memory.

Now you were here, sitting with your back against a log, and staring holes into the shoulder of a fourteen year old girl. 

“Whatch’u lookin’ at?” Joel asked, his arms crossed over his chest as he lazily reclined against a tree. 

You only looked away for a second, too fixated on what was just barely peeking over the collar of Ellie’s shirt and jacket. It had fallen down a bit when she laid down to sleep.

“Nothin’,” you shrugged it off. He was a man of few words, surely he’d drop it on account of having to speak more if he didn’t… but God help him, he’s like a damn cat, his curiosity could kill him. 

“You’re very focused on nothin’,” he teased. There was something off about you with Ellie, he’d taken notice of it. He didn’t know what it was about but it didn’t seem like a danger.

You rolled your eyes over to him, but could tell by his glance back that he wouldn’t quit. He’d already volunteered to take the first watch, and he had nothing else better to do. 

“It’s a long story, you’d get bored.”

But again, he had nothing better to do. 

“Try me,” he raised his shoulders in a shrug of his own. He seemed much more docile of a creature in this setting. The early hours of night, so quiet, and dimly lit. His voice was gentle and his features were soft. He was relaxed.

You took a deep inhale, trying to brace yourself for whatever came of this. He was a fresh face, someone new to explain an old wound to. The scar had finally healed and you were about to dig a blade back through and rip it open… but you suppose you’d sharpened the knife by coming along in the first place. 

“I think Ellie’s my daughter,” you breathed out, not checking for a reaction until he’d been silent too long. His eyes were narrow, and he tilted his head, looking between you two. She was fast asleep by now, but he had a picture of her in his head, comparing it to you. 

“You’re shittin’ me, right?” 

You blew out another long breath, shaking your head and rolling your eyes. He doesn’t get it. He doesn’t know this feeling you have or the fact that you’ve never felt it before. He doesn’t understand that you’d come to peace with the fact that you’d never see her again, and then she appeared like a ghost from your past. You thought she was your past self at first, taunting you, making fun of who you were now. 

“I ain’t shittin’ you.”

You were fine to leave it at that, but he sure as hell wasn’t. For a guy that hated long conversations, he seemed to like poking around in your business. 

“And what makes you think that?” 

You honestly didn’t want to tell him. He’s not Tommy, he might make fun of you, might store away the information later on and use it against you. You have no idea, actually. You don’t know him. 

You let your eyes flick up to the stars, hoping by some miracle they will fall from the heavens in the form of angels to give you a message, that message being: shut the fuck up and don’t spill your guts to a man you met this morning. 

“When I was thirteen, I was by myself. I fell into a weird group of people that could probably be considered a cult. There was this one guy that treated me better than the others…” you trailed off, not sure if you’re ready to rehash all of this. But it’s been a long time since you talked about it. You need to get it off your chest if you’re to somehow make a relationship with the product of your past. “He was in his twenties, so a lot younger than most people in the group. Pretty sure I was the youngest. I didn’t realize he was using me.”

Joel was tense, but not because he was uncomfortable… he was genuinely invested. Wanted to know this story and how it connected with Ellie. His Ellie.

“We left the group, and I found out I was pregnant a few months later. I’d barely had my cycle a fucking year… wasn’t even sure what it meant when I didn’t get it. Anyways,” you had to stifle a laugh, because just looking back… what the actual hell? You kept blinking to make sure no tears escaped in front of this man. You weren’t there yet with him. “I think he just lost all interest in me after that. He didn’t really speak to me unless it was necessary, and wouldn't look at me. Stuff like that.”

But that wasn’t the worst part, and Joel knew you were working your way up to it. 

“Before I was pregnant I used to sneak into places most people couldn’t. I was real skinny like that. Was able to smuggle stuff in and out of different QZs across the country. We peddled rare narcotics for the most part… but I had to stop when I, you know…” you made a round hand motion around your stomach, hoping he got the jist. “I didn’t fit in the smaller spaces.”

“What kind of narcotics?” Joel finally asked a question, and it wasn’t really the one you were hoping for… but you understood he’d probably fallen into the same scheme over the years. 

“Vicodin, mostly. Up in Princeton there was this one apartment… we’d searched it top to bottom because of how many secret hiding places there were. Vicodin everywhere. Whoever lived there was either severely addicted or preparing for the worst.”

“Maybe both.”

Yeah, probably. Damn shame he never got to use them.

“We used it as a trading token most of the time. It was actually what got us into Boston,” you waved off your tangent eventually, getting back to the story and where Ellie came in. “Pretty much gave the rest of our stash to a contact we had there… she got us a family we could hand the baby off to.” 

And now he got it. You’d been knocked up by a predator, and said predator wanted you to give up the baby so he could go about using you some more. He’d seen and done some cruel things in a post apocalyptic world, but he would never stoop that low, and grimaced at anyone who possibly could.

“I had her when I was fourteen. Lookin’ at her today was like looking in a mirror,” you rambled on, still not quite to your point. “She’s the right age, from the right location… and that birthmark on her shoulder…”

He hadn’t even noticed it all this time. Months with the kid, and he thought nothing of it. But to you, it was clarification. It was the confirming piece of evidence that pulled it all together. You’d barely taken your eyes off of it since you saw it. You wanted to make sure you weren’t seeing things. Wanted to make sure it was the right shape and placement, just so you could be sure. 

He nodded, seemingly coming to this conclusion now, too. It didn’t take him any more convincing. It was clear by now that your hunch was not just a hunch. 

“Her dad, he still… around?” 

You shook your head with a light hearted laugh. 

“No,” and you could have left it with that simple answer… but that was never much your style. “I shot him in the head.”

His low whistle cut the air, and you almost felt proud. You’d killed the one thing in life that ever hurt you directly. 

“He deserved worse.” 

“Yeah, he did.”

And then it was quiet for a minute, all the words the two of you had spoken up until now were rotating over and around in your heads to make sense of them, until he spoke up again. 

“I’m sorry,” he nearly whispered. 

“S’okay. Not your fault…” you shook it off. It’s in the past, it’s done. 

“Not yours either,” he replied, raising a brow to you. “M’just, sorry you went through that.”

He was soft, he was gentle. You supposed he was like Tommy. He didn’t judge you or make you feel inferior because of your tragic mishappenings. He just listened, and felt sympathy.

“I don’t mind it so much now… I got her back.”

And both your gazes shifted to the sleeping teenager, her breaths steady with the humming of the night around you. She has no clue, and for now you’ll have to keep it that way. 

Yeah, you think… I got her back.

-

It only took two weeks. Riding, eating, sleeping, and talking, rinse and repeat. There was the odd occasion of dealing with infected, but they were never in large groups, and cleared out easily. 

You remembered exactly where to go when you entered the city limits, guiding them towards the college campus you once lived in as a firefly. It was almost ten years ago, but you remember it pretty well. It’s where you met Tommy. Not in the lab, obviously. You’d both been put on security detail one morning, having never met beforehand. He proceeded to ‘teach you’ how to shoot a rifle properly, only to find you could hit a perfect bullseye on your first shot. Probably because your dad was a man who loved his guns, and you’d been shooting one since you were a kid before the outbreak. He laughed about it, and you two were friends ever since. 

“Are you getting any of this?” Ellie asked you, pulling you from your thoughts as you rode alongside them. 

For the last hour, Joel was attempting - and failing - to explain the rules of football to the young Miss Ellie. And she didn’t understand one lick of it, not that you blame her. You’d been to actual football games in your youth, but you couldn’t get it even then. 

“Nope, I was always more of a baseball fan…” you trailed, and smiled at the thought. Baseball was fun, you remember it well. It was your biggest obsession right before ballet, and right after fingerpainting. 

“Oh really, now?” Joel cut in, his surprise evident in his raised eyebrow and tilted gaze in your direction. 

“Yep. You’re looking at the MVP of the Acorn’s jr. little league team.” 

Ellie laughed. She didn’t know a thing about baseball either. She’d seen some old collectors cards though here and there. Apparently they used to be valuable. They were only knick knacks to anyone who saw them now. 

“What position did you play?” 

“Shortstop… or second base, technically. No shortstop in jr. little league,” you admitted. Your dad always called you shortstop, so that’s what you tell people now. Anyone who asks, at least. You can count on one hand the number of people who have. 

“Seein’ you around infected… I bet you swung like hell,” he chuckled. Ellie was still confused about the rules of the last sport, much less how to play this one… but she listened intently because Joel was interested, so she was interested too.

“I always got on base, didn’t always stay there, but always got on. Plus, I was the only kid who never picked their nose at the plate, so… Obviously I earned my title.”

“That must’ve been an amazing accomplishment. How old were you?” 

From what he understood, you’d been eight on outbreak day. You couldn’t have been too much younger to have started a sport, right?

“Probably six or seven at the time. I did ballet after, had kind of a short attention span when it came to after school activities,” you explained, a smile on your cheeks when you spoke about the things you used to love doing. You probably would still like doing some of them, had they been an option in Jackson.

“I know about ballet!” Ellie jumped in, nearly scaring Joel off the horse. “That’s the dancers that used to wear those weird shoes and shit.”

“Pointe shoes?” You chuckled, more at Joel trying to compose himself than Ellie’s funny recollection of footwear. 

“Yeah, those. They looked like torture devices in some of the paintings I saw… did you ever wear any?” 

“No, I would have had to train for about five more years to have gotten to that point. That was the dream at the time, to be a pointe ballerina. Of course, the end of the world happened…”

Joel turned to you from his forwards facing stare, a sadness in his eyes before he looked back onto the road ahead of him. Was that… pity? You were slowly learning to read him, his little mannerisms and tells that made him like everyone else, yet just a tad different, in a way that only he could be. 

“Maybe after all this is over you can teach me some steps,” she suggested, but you scoffed. 

“Maybe,” you shook your head at how funny the thought sounded in your head. You’d only danced for what? Ten months at most? And as an eight year old? “I think you’ll probably be too busy with Joel’s guitar lessons.”

She laughed it off, shaking her head and leaning it back onto Joel’s shoulder in front of her. The three of you kept along until reaching the building you remembered, but instantly it was a disappointment. The fireflies weren’t here, and likely hadn’t been for over a year. 

“This isn’t right. There should be a checkpoint set up and a security blockade surrounding the place,” you mentioned, getting off your horse and running up to the door in the front. You peeked inside, and there was no sign of life anywhere. 

“You’re kidding,” Ellie grumbled. 

Joel dismounted the horse and followed after you, looking around and trying to find any signs that they might have been here at all. 

“You sure this is the right place?” 

“Positive. I remember this building, I met Tommy right over there,” you pointed down the sidewalk, where a half torn down barricade of cement was still sitting, but just barely. You walked to the corner of the crumbling stairs and grabbed a piece of old broken up brick, chucking it through the front door in order to unlock it.

Joel chuckled for a moment at your frustration, watching the scene play out. 

“Baseball… right,” he teased, leading the way inside with you and Ellie in tow. 

-

Maxine’s boys were at Fedra school. Her husband was at work in a different sector. Maxine herself was trading ration cards for supplies. It was the first time she’d left the apartment since you’d been there, and of all days, of all mornings for it to happen… your water broke.

You were alone, and scared. You weren’t allowed to leave the apartment for fear of the neighbor’s suspicion. Maxine’s family would be torn apart by Fedra if anyone found out what was going on, so no matter how terrified you were, you couldn’t risk going outside for help.

“Not now,” you cried, the tension in the pit of your stomach slowly turning to pain when your first contraction started. “Please, kid, I’m begging.”

You suck down against the wall of the living room, trying to find a sitting position that doesn't kill you from the pain. You wished more than anything you had some of those pain pills left over from the exchange, but they would probably only hurt you right now. 

“Please, don’t,” you tried to even your breathing, the tears crawling down your cheeks at a fastening rate. “I can’t do this…” 

The walls were closing in, you weren’t prepared for this. It didn’t seem to be the right time, either… but it was happening, and there was absolutely nothing you could do to stop it. The baby was coming, and if you wanted to live to see another day, you were going to have to get your head straight, and push it out of you. 

You didn’t know how long you’d have, but from the time your water broke to the last contraction, things were moving relatively quickly. You were still on the ground against the wall, biting down on the sleeve of your shirt to try and not make noise. 

You hoped and prayed that you would not deliver this baby on your own, but it looked like that was your only option right now. They had all left around an hour ago, they would be gone all day. 

“I don’t know what to do, kid… help me out here,” you cried out again, but the baby didn’t exactly listen. You felt more weight bearing down on your lower half by the minute, and all you could do was panic.

It had happened so fast, the attack. Too fast, nothing you guys could have prepared for. It was all within minutes, and the ringing in your ears following your last gunshot seemed to put everything in slow motion. The way Ellie was yelling but you couldn’t hear it, the man that was coming up from behind you, and the one that was wrestling with Joel near the edge of the rail. 

Too fast, the man on your rear grabbed at you and pulled backwards, keeping you from being able to stop Joel’s attacker… You got trapped in a headlock, a gun to your temple, and another man was about to get Ellie. Joel and his attacker broke through the railing, tumbling over the edge and falling into God knows what. You sunk deadweight in the man’s arms, letting Ellie shoot him with her raised gun before you shot the man coming for her. 

She ran to the edge first, freezing as she looked down. You followed and peered over, unsure what you would see. 

“Shit,” you lowered yourself to a sitting position before scooting off the edge and dropping down to where he was. Your voice was in a panic “Joel?” 

He was alive, but fatally injured if you didn’t get him out of here right now. 

“I’m gonna need you to pull,” he managed to get out through gritted teeth. His face was scrunched in pain, and you knew better than anyone how hard it was to stay quiet when you’re hurting that bad. 

“You could bleed out,” you shook your head, kneeling down and flinging off your backpack. Digging through, you only have the most basic of supplies… nothing substantial enough to stop mass amounts of blood, or, worst case scenario, a deadly infection. 

“Just pull, damnit,” he grunted, offering his hand. 

By now Ellie had come down, watching in fear as the only figure of importance in her life was nearly on his deathbed. It couldn’t be exaggerated because it really was that bad. He could drop down at any moment and never get back up, but he kept pushing on. 

You did as he asked, hoisting him to a stand, letting him lean on you for support. Ellie went on ahead, leading the way as she cleared the place with her own gun. You had to assist here and there, unwilling to let Ellie get shot on account of holding Joel up on his feet. 

It was practically a miracle that any of you made it outside. Your horse had already taken care of a raider, it seemed, the man lying unconscious on the ground behind him. He likely got to close, touched him, even. Ellie shot the last obstacle standing between you and an escape, and once he was cleared, you mounted your horses, helping Joel onto his, first. 

You rode in front of them, looking for a place to take shelter. Looking for an empty house, or gas station even. Anything would work, as long as it was safer than here. You rode for miles down the road, unsure if there were people in the area. You’d finally reached a neighborhood of substantial size, with no signs of life or proof of human activity. 

But before you could even find a safe shelter…

“Joel? Joel!” 

And you quickly turned around. Joel fell off the horse, out like a light.

-

Tags: @orcasoul

[theheromira]

Nimona appreciation post (Part 3 of idk even know how many)

Hi guys, I'm back with Part 3. Sorry about the delay, I tend to procrastinate even if something has to do with my newest hyperfixation lol (Pic for attention, like always lol)

at the beginning he says to Amb that he's not brooding and now he tells Nimona that "Knights don't mope, they brood."

"Murder him, murdder her, murder everyone!" aaand there is Amb standing int the door and Bals pose XD

Amb lil smile when he sees Bal. He probably thought that he killed Bal and seems glas that he's not

Also him just looking at Bals arm

Nimonas lil "Gesundheit" is way better in the english version ngl

Nemesis 😈

"Oh, look! It's Gloreth!" and the knights behind them actually look in the direction she pointed at

Amb acting like he was about to draw his sword and looking like they just caught him doing something forbidden like I don't even know

Bals almost defeated face at the beginning of the closet scene

Nimona just casually ripping that pipe out of the wall

Bals hamster cheeks when she grabs his face

that die-in-the-closet-dialogue felt very strange to me but I still don't completely understand how people can hate people who have a different orientation than them (sexual or not, I don't know how to say that exactly but I hope you kinda understand me?). There shouldn't be a problem about dying in a closet in real life and I really understand why people are so close-minded and this is still happening, I guess. Why does this "kids movie" motivate me to think about this kind of issue so much? But I guess it's a good thing, I'm probably/definitely not the only one who watched Nimona and really started to think about this (and the other themes of this movie)

also Nimona literally coming out of the closet (as a shape-shifter) is like really nice, I love little things like that in movies that you maybe not even register at first

I like to think that the axe opening the door is a little "Shining" reference

Nimona casually catching the arrow before her face

Bal being the competent idiot that he is grabbing the first thing his hand finds to use as a weapon without even looking

"Even if you see the horn?"

"I will not freak… Uhhh" with that face XD

I just looove her line "This is the part where you run.", how she looks at the knights and how they start to panic

Bals face while getting out of the closet is like: What the everloving hell did just happen/is just happening?

"Yeah" "Oh no! Stay away! Get back! No! This is not happening!" XD

Amb just being bamboozled and proving that he's at least a bit of a Nerd (who other then a Nerd or a Zoologist would call a Rhino by it's full name)

"Leave that guy alone!" "Take that" bonks him away with her horn lol, they are such a good duo

Stairs are either your best friend (Nimona seemingly) or your worst enemy (Kungfu Panda)

Bal just being completely like a fish out of water by what is happening during that chase is also kinda hilarious

Also him still having the brain to tell her she needs to go right in all of this mayhem is very competent of him, I stan him just a bit ngl

the whale

hey def needed a meeting table that round, they are a kingdom of knights

loving that Todd gets the tiny d*** joke, one of the best jokes in the movie and this movie has a lot of good ones

THE MUSIC <3

Now he wants the staircase, Bal really should make up his mind XD

I'm a bit sad that the original BlueSky-Scene where she changes into a dragon didn't make it in there but this is also fine, I guess

How did Bal survive that fall?

also loving how he just slides the last few metres face down lol

Nimona looking at Bal before she says her "Something, something, something, we win." was kinda cute

Explosions! "Metal" Also: stuff like this reminds me of a kind of old scetch from a comedian (I know the guy from some youtube vids of different poetry slams but he is a comedian now) I like pertaining bear catapults (I def will get myself some tickets if he ever does a show near me, the guy is hilarious)

Bal looking kinda chill (he prob has a concussion and isn't quite there, I guess) at the different things that fly towards them and then focusing on that little bit of debris that knocks him out (and the sound he makes when he gets hit) lol

Sooo, that was it for part 3. Short I know, but I think I will try to get these posts out and ngl my attention span is a bit short at the moment… with this kind of post thats more on the short site I believe I can stay on the topic and not procrastinate that much. Maybe there will also be some longer ones inbetween, we will see. Have a good one guys ^^

[citadelsanchez]

Could you possibly do a longer comfort oneshot? Rick hears child y/n crying in her bed from a nightmare, and she ends up revealing that she’d been sa’d. He comforts her and talks to her that it wasn’t her fault, but like, how rick would..and he tells her he’ll be back in a second to tuck her in and goes and kills the one who did it? then comes back like nothing happened, tucks her, in, and tells her goodnight

I’m sorry that this is specific- if your uncomfortable with this that is perfectly okay and I understand.

Absolutely, I loved this idea! It's one of my fav that I've written so far, if not the favorite. Enjoy!

~~~~~~~ [TW: SA]

"Whatever, you old man. I am incapable of getting drunk. I wouldn't be talking to you right now if I were" Y/N slurs, jumping onto the bed and holding her arms outstretched.

Rick rolls his eyes quickly. "Yes sweetie, very convincing. You can definitely hold your weight" he responds, patting Y/N on the head.

"Riiiiick come on, I know you hate affection, and people in general and everything nice, but can we just cuddle?" Y/N asks, looking up hopefully.

Rick stands unwavering by the drunken stupor she was in. "No. Y-you need to sleep this off" he responds, pulling the covers over her body now.

She smiled in response, happy to be tucked in and given his attention in some way at least. She knew that deep down she'd changed his brain chemistry a little bit. He actually cared for her and things like this were why he couldn't deny it.

"Goodnight Y/N" he spoke as he looked at her face to see she had already passed out.

He walked slowly out of the room, closing the door behind him. Walking back to his garage, Rick pulled out a few tools to work on one of his unorthodox projects. As he was hammering a switch into his newly made accessory, he heard a faint weeping. Rick paused and looked around, frowning. He pulled out his emotion detecting device and scanned the walls of the house.

Okay, it's not any of the family, or Y/N. Where is the noise coming from?

He rummaged through a box on his shelf until he found a different device. Past Parallel Emotion Detector. It works by keeping track of emotions of those within the house from the past, back to the beginning of their lives. If an emotion one experiences is too strong or overbearing, it alerts the device to go off.

He looked onto the small screen to see a child- a little girl who looked to be about 8. That's not Beth or Summer. Holy shit. It's Y/N, he registered.

Rick shot a portal into the wall and stepped through, where he was met with the young Y/N in real time. She was sobbing frantically, with the blankets clutched up to her chest, sharp and muffled inhales breaking up the tears.

Rick walked very slowly towards her, until she turned to see him and widened her eyes a bit.

"H-hey it's okay, Y/N. What's wrong, why are you upset?" He asks.

"I-I-just, well, it's a lot. How do you know my name?" She questions, looking up at him with a mix of fear and wonder.

Rick bends down now to level with her on the side of the bed and give a weak smile.

"I'm Rick, I'm uh, from the future sweetie. We're-we're really good friends there."

"Oh" she says, still sniffling and uses the blanket to wipe her tears.

She's adorable, he thinks. He'd never tell the current Y/N that, but she has always been so sweet and lovely.

"S-so what's wrong? Why are you crying like this?" He asks again.

She shakes a bit as she stares up at Rick, deciding to trust him since he is gentle with her and seems so familiar to her somehow.

"H-he, my uncle, mom's br-brother, he uh-

Her eyes gloss over again and she struggles to get the words out.

Rick places a hand on the bed, listening intently. "What did he do, darling?"

Tears silently slipped from her eyes again now and she recounted it. "He.. he touched me, you know? An-and it didn't feel nice."

Rick stiffened as he realized the severity of the situation and his eyes blackened. Motherfucker. I had no idea Y/N had been through this, she's never told me.

He awkwardly raised a hand to gently pat Y/N on the head. Comforting has never really been his forte. "U-uh, Y/N I'm- I'm so sorry honey, it's not your fault. He's a piece of s- he's an awful person and you deserve better."

She sniffles quieter now. "Th-thank you. I haven't told momma yet. I-I don't know if-i-if I should."

"You should sweetheart, but not until you're ready. In the meantime, I'll- I'm gonna take care of it. He won't do it a-again, okay?" Rick ruffles her hair a little.

Her lips curve into a smile now as she wipes her eyes. "O-okay Rick. I believe you."

"I'll be right back, I'm gonna come back to-to um tuck you in okay?" Y/N nodded in response.

Satisfied that she'd calmed down now, but full of white rage, Rick stepped away from the bed and plugged a Location radar chip into his ear. When it beeped, he shot a portal open and went through.

There in a worn down recliner, lined on the floor with pizza boxes and take out dinners, was the bastard that did this to Y/N. The pathetic weakling that gets to call himself "family." Not for long.

"What the FUCK?" The man jumped backwards in the chair, too visibly lazy and cowardice to even stand upright from the shock of a stranger suddenly invading his home.

Rick felt his entire body pulse with anger. "You." He got as close to his face as possible before pulling his gun from his lab coat pocket and blasting the trigger.

The scene was left gory and violent, and Rick was satisfied. He whirred his clothing microchip and changed from the blood stained clothes to a fresh set of clean ones.

Stepping back in the portal, he sat down by Y/N's bedside once more. "Hey, he can't h-hurt you ever again now. I made sure of that," he spoke lightly.

Y/N reached for his hand, placing her tiny one on top of it. "Thank you Rick. You're like an alien guardian angel."

This got a laugh out of him, as he brought the blankets over her and made sure she was covered up.

"Goodnight, Y/N. Sleep well."

[starxanemone]

꩜ⴰ ࣪˖ CLUELESS

oliver aiku x fem!reader — oneshot.

— based on this idea that i posted.

you're clueless, and everything that oliver aiku says and does to you is met with confusion.

Life was a pendulum violently swinging back and forth between suffering, exhaustion, and absolute nothingness in between—at least, yours is.

You had a knack for working. It’s the jam to your delicious peanut butter sandwich that sometimes you just can’t swallow anymore. But it’s there, and it is a constant. You put piles of it onto your plate daily and you don’t hit the sack until every last crumb is gone and devoured. You hate the act of stepping into the halls of your university, but you’d hate to be absent even more. You hated the monotonous, mind-numbing voice that your professors used to articulate words, but you liked learning concepts people made in an attempt to concretize and visualize the abstract.

But you could not say the same for your interpersonal relationships. It was not the same as working wherein the pros battled equally against the cons, because all you could see was the downsides that could possibly come. Living life alongside other people had always felt like walking with eggshells for shoes, carefully tiptoeing away from anyone else’s toes in hopes of not letting it crack and accidentally pierce skin. You had never been good with them—handling people—even if you were one yourself. Oh, the irony. Thus, you had resorted to understanding yourself and them. A bachelors in Psychology seemed like the right way to go.

And so, work swung you to exhaustion; people swung you to suffering; and you are left with absolutely nothing as the pendulum stops.

But, Oliver Aiku was an enigma; one whom you cannot begin to understand where he stands. He is not “work” that swung you to exhaustion, and he is not “people” that swung you to suffering—at least, not in the same way other people typically did. It was different. His treatment was much different and your interactions with his treatment felt more organic, you could say, despite the utter nonsensical things exchanged in between. At least you didn’t have to walk on eggshells around him; he doesn’t seem fragile enough to break.

He’s just weird. He keeps going on saying stuff and doing things you don’t understand.

“Did it hurt when you fell from heaven, Angel?” You hear Oliver say from right beside you. You were quietly going on about your busy day, reading through case studies in the library, when he decided to appear with the signature strange quirk of his lips and the glint in his heterochromatic eyes. You can’t describe it but you don’t mind it.

You furrow your brows at his words, momentarily pulling your gaze away from the papers you were reading.

“I’m not religious.” You inform him matter-of-factly. Angels don’t fall out of heaven. Heaven wasn’t even a physical place, rather, you assumed it was a state with the way the Bible explained it. Besides, the only thing hovering over—or well, technically, around the Earth were the Stratosphere and the Exosphere, and whatever. Where does Heaven stay over there?

“Wha—”

You cut him off with a shake of your head, leaning a bit closer to him as you explain the useless little tidbit stored inside your brain, blinking owlishly. “Nevertheless, have you seen biblically-accurate angels? No offense to them, but they are actually horrifying.”

His previously incredulous expression transforms back into his typical grin. This looks smaller, almost softer, even. “Think you missed the point there, sweetheart.”

“Make your jokes make sense, then.” You say, yawning a little as you turn your attention back to your papers. You pick up a black pen and begin scribbling out important terms and points.

“Wait— what? I was not making a joke.”

“Oh.” You respond distractedly.

A few seconds don’t even pass and he’s already bugging you again. He’s like a singular visible shaking leaf outside of a transparent window, amidst a quiet and unmoving area. He’s distracting.

He’s like a—

“Kid.” You say out loud, nodding your head as you turn to look at him as if you’ve had a sudden epiphany. “You’re like a kid.”

The look he sends you—well—it’s only one that you can describe as offended. But one second he has an offended frown on his face, the next it looks blank, before it turns into one of those expressions that you don’t quite understand too. It’s the face he makes when he’s about to say or do something that’s also equally confusing.

You jolt, furrowing your brows over curiously when he takes your free hand resting on top of your lap slowly. His fingers trace the back of your palm and you shiver slightly. You ignore the way his brows raise and observe the way his fingers slowly entangle itself between yours, holding your hand and squeezing it gently. His thumb traces circles around your palm making the hairs on your skin rise.

You attempt to pull your hand back but he clasps onto it a little tighter, preventing you from pulling away.

“W-What are you doing?” You’re not sure why such a strange action tickled the expanse of your tummy.

“Hm? I’m holding your hand.” His lips quirk up, resting his cheek against his other arms propped up on the table, staring into your eyes. His purple and green eyes almost envelope you, but you move your gaze up to the center of his forehead instead.

When was hand-holding this intense? You bite the side of your cheek before chewing on your bottom lip nervously.

All of a sudden, his hold loosens as if unsure. “I’m not uh, making you uncomfortable, right? Because if I am, then,”

You feel him reluctantly begin to let go of your hand, but you quickly enclose your fingers around his, preventing him from letting go. You ignore the way he mumbles an ‘oh?’ as you explain. “I’m not uncomfortable. It’s just unexplainable and strange to me. I’ve never had a guy hold my hand before but based on my studies, you typically do this with the person you hold romantic feelings for, am I right?”

His fingers enclose around yours again, and contrary to your belief, his grin doesn’t even falter as you call him out on his possible feelings.

“Mhm, you are correct, sweetheart.” He chuckles leaning slightly closer and you can smell his perfume wafting off of his skin and clothes. You gulp, turning your eyes away momentarily and leaning back. The hand in yours feels heavy but you don’t attempt to pull away even as your palms begin to sweat. It’s strange. You like holding his hand.

“A-Ah, I see.” You nod your head slowly. “Do you like me, Oliver?”

He lets out another chuckle, one coming from deep within his diaphragm. “And me calling you ‘sweetheart’ wasn’t already a dead giveaway?”

You paused for a second. “Debatable. You call other girls ‘pretty’ and ‘darling’ and ‘babe’ and—”

He cuts you off, the tips of his ears turning red. “Okay, okay, I get it. But I’ve stopped, okay? For you. Didn’t know that it’d make you this jealous though.”

The look you send him comes out flat. “I’m not jealous. I was merely stating that it’s hard to identify your feelings based on just that because you apply the same behavior towards other women. I meant it as a matter-of-fact.”

“Hate that you’re always reasonable.” He mutters under his breath before laughing quietly. “But I’ve stopped, okay? Promise.”

“Promise?” You tilt your head. “Who said I reciprocated your feelings though?”

“Oh?” He smirks. “You don’t?”

He leans closer, breath brushing lightly against your face warmly. He unclasps your fingers and he quietly chuckles at the way your hand chases his for a second before he’s placing it on your hip. Your hands fall at your lap. Suddenly, you are conscious of the fabric of your shirt brushing against your skin.

“You sure?” He continues, leaning his face even closer. At this point you could see all of the little details that make up his face. The vividness of the two contrasting colors of his irises, the sharpness of his nose, the strands of unshaved hair above his pink lips. He looks like he applies lip balm everyday.

Just as you lean closer as well, he pulls everything back. His hand that was previously on your hip is gone and the warm breath brushing your face is replaced with the cold air of the operating AC in the library.

He lets out a ‘tsk’ shaking his head at you scoldingly. “We’re in the library, (First Name). You can’t be thinking of doing things like that here.”

The library. You snap back to reality. Yes, you’re in the library.

All you could muster out was an “Oh.”

You stare at him in confusion as he begins to stand up, his clothes and his bag making rustling noises as he moves. He glances at his watch wrapped around his left wrist as he slings his gym bag over his shoulder.

“Where are you going?” You ask curiously.

“I’m going to train, sweetheart.” He winks. “I’ll message you later, ‘kay?”

You nod, turning back to your files.

“And maybe we can pick up where we left off later.”

꩜ⴰ TAGS!

@gigiiiiislife

if you'd also like to be tagged in my future works, please comment your user below : ]

[evelhak]

Feeling daring today - Haizaki for the character and ship bingo ;)

Your takes are much more interesting, so there may not be anything illuminating here but I tried. xD

*Non-sarcastically normal. Haizaki is a pretty neutral character when I think about him by myself, I just don't have that special connection to him.

*However I love him when you talk about him and I'm sure I would love him more if I just had an incentive to write about him. But I don't feel anything like that because you're already giving him justice. My brain doesn't really work unless I feel like I have something substantial to contribute, which I don't.

*Haizaki definitely still gets a lot of unjustified hate, because he was framed as a villain and people then interpreted his every action as coming from the worst place imaginable, while other characters' actions get understanding just because they can see those characters' sides but can't see Haizaki's since he wasn't written in a sympathetic way. On one hand, that's fair to me, if your fic needs a villain it makes sense to pick a character whose motivations were not discussed deeply, so you can turn him into as much of a villain as you want, because you have no need to think about that particular character so deeply. However, the rate at which this happens to Haizaki perfectly exemplifies how the same dynamic happens in real life, especially at schools. He has the outward characteristics of the person who is always the easiest to blame. Not that there isn't stuff to blame him for, it's just that when he gets blamed for more than his share, it becomes a vicious cycle. Not to say it would affect his likability to me even if he never grew less violent or got his shit together, because my like and dislike for fictional characters is not based on morality or whether or not I would like that character in real life. 😂 I didn't pay that much attention to him solely because I just overlooked his story as pretty been there done that. Any character depth he has is implied at best, because he's a side character. I would much rather see an actual depiction of the dynamics that get projected onto him. And you are doing that, so, I'm not complaining.

*I do think Haizaki is pretty silly, he's so macho but he's also kind of wishy-washy about it. Like, one minute he can be thundering on like any of the other macho characters but then his line for changing his mind and going like "you know what, not worth it, actually" is much lower. And somehow he gets depicted as pathetic for that, even though it may actually just be common sense and self-preservation.

*Honestly I need to remind myself that Haizaki exists, sometimes. I'm sorry. He just wasn't that compelling to me initially. I didn't demonise him (I'd like to think that I don't demonise anyone) I just wasn't interested enough. I knew there were reasons he acts the way he does but I didn't make actual effort to find out. You've done some good to me, reminding me that my perception is more limited than I would like, because I tend to pride myself for considering everyone's viewpoints. (Not 100% possible, but I try.)

*Well you said it, Haizadick is not an inaccurate term, no matter what way you look at it.

I didn't ship anyone with Haizaki because I didn't think about his life much before talking to you, so...

*Congrats, your Haizaki and his relationships are now basically canon to me. : D

*I just put that second tier text there because I imagine it's where the relationships that last a bit longer would go, and I think Haizaki just has many short relationships before maybe ending up with his end game.

*I mean I assume he has had fun short relationships with many girls.

*And probably many one-night stands.

*I literally just got it in my head that maybe he experimented with a guy once, while I was making this. He seems like a curious type even though I'm kind of assuming he's straight.

*Yeah, I theoretically get why these are ships but no I don't really get it, I would be lying if I said I truly deeply understood it.

I know my shipping tiers are a mix of "I actually root for it" and "I just sort of think it would happen" but that's what you get from me. : D

[alwaysxyou]

I think what's extra frustrating about this whole situation is just the not knowing when or why of it. Like I know it can't go on forever but there have been so many times where it seems like we're getting somewhere (bye bye Elevator) and then bam something else hits us. I just hate it for louis

i said i wasnt going to respond to this right now but im fired up now and i am going to answer it. none of this is about coming out none of this is about larry none of it is about being gay even! it's does louis know he deserves better.

you don't want to draw attention to your actual relationship - why do you need to even speak about it? answer questions with that you'd like to keep your private life private and that's the end of it. "oh you used to be so open? yeah i was a lot younger and now ive grown up a bit and realized i want to keep it private" any one who pushes it is labeled as an asshole interviewer. publicist listening in to every single non-live on air interview and jumping in to skip questions if necessary. only do live interviews with anchors and hosts you trust and have agreed to keep it professional beforehand. get the best media training in the business and have every possible answer locked into your brain.

you don't want people to think you're gay - why not? nothing wrong with being gay. but in any case, see answer above about not wanting to talk about your personal life and then turn the answer back to the fans "im not/i don't like to talk about my personal life but what matters to me is the fans and im so honored to have fans from that community." next question

"well he needs the publicity" well he's not getting any now. the only publicity from that stunt walk was talking about how young she was, or how quickly he moved on from e. how about louis at a charity event? the gossip sites post pictures of louis with f or stories he tells but want to know what else they would post in the same way? pictures of louis with a dog. or a lizard. or a hamburger. or shirtless!

also! where is the doc promo! or tour promo! where is the exclusive with first look photos and interview with day of tickets coming out? where are the ticket specials in the cities where tour needs to be sold more (buy a tour ticket get a free movie ticket)? where are the merch bundles (buy a shirt get a movie ticket voucher)? or just merch in general? where are the radio spots and the billboards and the bus stop ads and the commercials and the social media? radio interviews in tour cities? they wouldn't do a press junket yet but! and if no one brought those up why isn't louis or his manager saying something and asking for those plans and those rollouts? and if they aren't getting those or know what to ask for why aren't they hiring people to figure out what's not working and make it happen?

you don't have to come out, you don't have to reveal your relationship, you don't have to even elude to anything. but you do deserve better treatment, better promo, a better image. privacy, kindness, fans, general population respect. what might have been the way people did it in 2013 isn't the same as 2023. but all of louis' rollouts are stuck there. once upon a time for an artist, the worst thing you could be was gay. and even if that's not the case anymore, if that's still where your head is okay. you don't have to come out. but you don't deserve to be doing this shit or putting yourself through this either.

he got out of sony, he got out of modest. he claims to be the boss so goddamn put your foot down and take a fucking stand. if there's lasting contracts or whatever get the best lawyer out there and fucking take back what you deserve. and don't fucking settle for anything less. someone on your team has an idea you don't like? too bad for them, you pay them, you make the ultimate decision. and if they don't let you or try to fuck you over, you hire someone else. and do that again and again until you get what you want. life is too freaking fucking short to not be putting yourself into the best possible situations wherever you can. louis deserves that.

[cordria]

I work in a school-adjacent field right now, so my job is tied to the school year. I've worked there for about a year, and my contract is up. Had to schedule a meeting with the boss, where I'd either be offered another year-long contract or be released.

I really really wanted another contract. I like this job, it has health insurance for my kids, I get paid really well, and it offers superb vacation time. Me - being me - overthought the hell out of it. I spent weeks curating data as to why I should be retained for another year. I had spreadsheets. I had presentations. I had data at my fingertips for any eventuality.

New contract was the ultimate goal. I was going to ask for a 1-2% raise, depending on how the meeting went, but I was perfectly fine with nothing.

Head into the meeting, and it doesn't take more than a few minutes to realize something is very amiss...

He's got zero desire to look at my data. No asking questions about what I'd been doing. Nothing. He's just... talking about his company. His plans for its future. How I fit into those plans.

And I realize - he's got zero plans on releasing me. He's talking to me about the reasons why I shouldn't leave. Why I shouldn't allow myself to be poached.

Mentally, I sorta check out of the meeting because I hadn't prepared for this. I can't ask for a 2% raise. I'll look like I don't know my worth, and that can be a death-knell for a woman. You'll never again get a great contract if male bosses think you don't know what you're worth and can't stand up for it. I need to be at 3-5% above COLA. And I just saw the COLA numbers, but I can't for the life of me remember them! COLA coulda been anywhere between 1% and like maybe 7%. I can't just guess.

Boss just keeps talking while I'm scrambling. Barely paying attention to him and answering on autopilot. And then he takes a tangent that drags my mind off of numbers. Asks me about my supervisor.

My supervisor is... nice. You know those teachers in school where the system worked well for them, and they like the system, and they can't imagine the system doesn't work for someone else? Those teachers where, if the system isn't serving you, the only logical reason for that is lack of effort on your part? Yeah, she's one of those.

My job is literally to challenge those systems. She's nice, but we butt heads a lot because she doesn't see why I'm so set on changing something that works so well, no matter how many ways I've tried to explain it to her or what research I've handed her.

I'm trying to pussy-foot my way around answering the questions from my boss. I can't throw her under a bus - especially since she's one of the nicest, most generous people at this office - but I also am trying to be honest. She's throwing a monkey wrench in what I'm doing. She's making my work harder, and it's already hard since schools and teachers hate listening to 'your old way of doing things isn't working so well'. So I've totally lost track of trying to figure out COLA. Talking through this puzzle is taking up my brain.

I musta done fine, because eventually he pulls out my contract. Tells me I'm embodying the future of what he wants my department to be. Says he'd like to put me on 'management track'. Preferably to take over my supervisor's position at this point next year. More responsibility. Trying out 'mentoring' some of the other staff I work with.

I'm... not sure how I feel about that. I've never been in the 'boss' track, other than some random shift-lead positions at fast food joints. I'm not exactly management material. I'm one of those people who do best when given a gentle nudge in the direction you'd like me to travel, give me free rein to implement data and research, and stand back to watch the positive chaos unfold. That actually seems like the thing boss likes about me best.

He offered me a good raise. I was very off-foot and didn't argue with it, but probably should have. Looked it up - was 5% above local COLA, so I'm happy. Reasonable contract, but I probably could've snagged another 2-3% for this management track nonsense had my brain been wired right. So I signed it, handed it back.

Now I got 'leadership' training four days over the next two weeks as I learn more about this management track he's wanting me on. I figure it if doesn't work out of me, I can always just say so. Then he can choose to keep me in a regular position or release me at the end of this contract. If nothing else, I'm staring at a binder full of data that I wasted a lot of time on that shows why someone else might want to hire me.

Might as well give this mess a try - right?

[dedf1shs-wife]

Going to Miku Expo as a someone who's not a vocaloid fan

Hi!! I went to the Miku Expo last night!! I wanted to do a fun little retrospective on what happened! No hate obviously, these are just things I've noticed. Just a lot of rambling ahead LOL

So a bit of a disclaimer: I'm not a vocaloid fan, I never have been. The main reason I went was because it was my bestie's birthday and I wanted to tag along. Even though I wasn't going for the music, I love concerts and ofc I want to hang out with my bestie. Also this will be kind of relevant, but the concert was at the Prudential Center and I went there not even a month ago to see another concert (specifically Sabaton opening for Judas Priest).

First thing I want to mention, this place was PACKED- Like both merch lines were wrapped around the building. The Judas Priest concert wasn't nearly as packed and the merch lines were nothing compared to the Miku Expo.

Me and my friend sat in one of the sections closest to the stage, so the idols on stage looked a bit flat. I'm not sure if this would have looked different if they used the hologram screen since I've never been to a hologram concert before, but it was definitely something I noticed. I also noticed how they looked to take up only a little bit of the screen which was kind of jarring? Again I've never been to a concert like this before (most of the recent concerts I've been to have been in small venues that are mostly standing room) so I don't know if that was to make things more immersive like she's actually on stage? If I were to do the animations, I would have made the models bigger so they took more attention and could be seen more clearly from farther away. I think the only time where most of the screen was filled was the one duet between Kaito(?) and Meiko(?)(I think that was their names idk shit about vocaloid).

I know a lot of the hardcore Miku fans were complaining about the screen, but I honestly didn't find anything wrong with it? Besides the models looking a bit flat and being kind of small, it didn't seem like a huge deal.

During the show I found myself more watching the background visuals, the band, and even the crowd more than I watched the stage. Personally I loved a lot of the visuals even if I didn't have the context of why they were relevant to the songs. I remember during one Miku song all the lights were CYMK and that really scratched my brain especially when they faded between colors. I also loved watching the band, they were so into it (especially Vixen's Diary, she was adorable) and I always love seeing how bands preform together. I wasn't expecting them to do a band introduction, I really enjoyed the fact that they did.

My friend taught me about light stick culture and honestly it might be my favorite thing- Not only did I love seeing all the lights in the crowd (even if it took my attention bc of ADHD) but also seeing everyone change their colors to fit their favorite idols I just- that is so fucking CUTE we need light stick culture at more concerts (or, just as someone who was dangerously close to a mosh pit before and who hates being touched by strangers, replace mosh pits with light sticks)

I heard from other people who were in more crowded areas that some of the fans were rowdy and misbehaving, but I don't think I saw that as much? Then again we were also sitting in an area that had a few open seats, so that definitely played a part. I definitely felt a difference in atmosphere though, since I felt like the crowd was very engaged while I didn't feel as interested. It felt like the opposite of the Sabaton concert, since there the crowd didn't feel very engaged while I was SUPER excited (I blame that on a bad band pairing, since while Sabaton and Judas Priest are both metal, they're two different subgenres with two different appeals). If I had to compare it to anything, it would be like my first Powerwolf concert, since it was their first time in the USA and everyone was super excited to see them. I don't know if there's been Miku Expos in the USA before, but I definitely felt that same kind of energy/sentiment.

There's also the transitions between songs that I remember someone else saying they felt awkward and I can't help but agree. A lot of the other concerts I've been to the bands would speak in between songs, whether it was hyping up the next song or just making silly jokes. I would have loved to see the vocaloids talking to each other and interacting on stage. Not only would it keep fans hyped and not make the crowd die down between songs, but it would still give the band a chance to prepare for the next song. Also maybe for songs where Miku would change outfits, I would have loved to see her magical girl transform between outfits.

I definitely feel like this is going to be a hot take, but as someone who's not a vocaloid fan, I'll say it: I wouldn't go to a Miku concert again, it just feels like a concert you go to so you can say "I've been to a Miku concert!" Usually when I go to a concert and I don't know who is preforming (usually the case for the opening band), I find myself walking away with a new band to listen to but I don't think I felt the same this time. I don't think there were any objectively bad songs, I just think it's the classic case of "this music isn't my taste". While I didn't enjoy the music, I did enjoy the vibe there. I got to meet up with friends, trade little trinkets, and have a good time regardless of the music. Anyways I hope everyone enjoyed the show, Miku is the best AI, and I will treasure the trinkets I got forever :D

[peejsocks]

bam rq!! (smut 👉👈)

i came across these and i think they go well together

bam - “i am not driving home with you, are you crazy”

reader - “fine, continue to act like you hate me”

a/n: bammy brain rot all day! since you didn’t specify pronouns i made it female reader and i know to some that doesn’t make sense but i just struggle with gn smut, i hope it’s okay! and thank you for requesting <3

ps: i’ve been finding the fan base pretty dead so if you read this, feedback is much appreciated :)

disclaimers/tags: nsfw. nsfk. minors dni. general don’t be stupid advice.

Like many in the town of West Chester, you knew Bam Margera. Like some, you were currently not on his list of favorite people.

As fate would have it, you were now trying to convince him to get in your car as you fled a party doomed by police sirens approaching.

Since your break-up, the two of you had been at the same parties a couple of times. Inevitable when you have friend groups that intersect. Usually, someone told you he was there in hopes of stirring some drama and exploiting the CKY guys for some lame irrelevant news.

A couple of girls who pretended to be your friend during your brief fling with the famous kid even came up to you to say Bam had come onto them, falsely offended. "I would never! Unless, you were okay with it...?"

A shrug and a swig was enough answer for them.

Whether or not he was actually making out with all of your so-called friends was not a question you looked for the answer.

Fights broke out at crowded houses constantly. A few guys were infamous for starting them, and only stopping when cops pull them off of an unconscious body. You were let in on this when you were with Bam. If one of these dudes were spotted in a brawl, everyone should meet at whoever's car was closest and get the hell out of there.

Most of you were still twenty. It was not worth getting caught underage drinking over some dickhead seeking attention.

Tonight, the neighbours weren't fucking around and called the cops as soons as the first chanting of "fight!" was yelled out. Now half the party is swarming the streets trying to figure out where to go.

That's when you catch Bam standing unfamiliarly alone on the pavement and yelling at his phone.

"I can't go that way! How did you even get past them? Turn the fuck back and come get me."

Seeing red and blue lights flicker in the distance, without much thought, your hand wraps around his and pulls his body forward. For now, the warm electric shock that bolts through you just from the small contact of his skin with yours will be ignored.

"Y/N? What are you doing?"

"Kidnapping you. Isn't it obvious? Get in, we have to go."

Stubborn as always, his hand pulls away from your grip in defiance. Quickly, you're getting annoyed.

"I'm on the phone."

He looks so much like a child saying this, eyes angry and resenting. Like he knows he has no good arguments, playing dumb to spite you will have to do.

"Do you want to finish your conversation from the inside of my car on the way home or when they give you your one phone call in jail?"

"I'm not driving home with you, are you crazy?"

Huffing, you turn your back to him and walk around to the drivers side, unlocking the door. His phone is hanging loosely beside his ear, but the grip of his fingers seems strong. He is staring at you, hesitant but considering.

"Fine, continue to act like you hate me. After I give you a ride. But in the meantime, can you give yourself a break and think rationally? You know, so you don't get busted?"

Seconds feel like minutes before he mumbles to whoever has not hung up on him yet that he'll meet them at his place.

As soons as Bam opens the passenger door, you're climbing in and speeding out of there.

You smirk when he clings to the ceiling handle and fumbles with the seatbelt.

"I don't think this piece of shit can handle your driving."

"I think you're managing just fine." Extending the joke, you change gears rapidly and the tires screech, running a yellow light. He glares your way. "Performs better than your overpriced Ferrari."

Defeated blue eyes averted ahead give away hurt feelings. "It's the streets in this town's fault, they're not made for supercars."

You laugh at his posture. "Sure."

For the next few minutes you are both sitting in surprising comfortable silence, until Bam spots a 24-hour grocery store.

"Oh, stop here. I need to get some stuff."

A glimpse of his rings when he points at the neon sign almost makes you choke, feeling trapped inside a slow motion sequence as your eyes trail up his neck. Snap out of it.

"I'm not your fucking driver, fuck off."

"You fucking volunteered to drive me home, don't be a bitch. C'mon, I'll be quick."

It was a mistake to look into his big doey eyes, but you did it anyway, aware of the outcome.

Ineffective but self-serving, you park the furthest from the store so he has to walk the distance. Away from any other cars, lamp posts or people. As you're waiting, you turn on the radio.

However long he was gone was the time you spent trying to convince yourself you didn't miss his smell. Or his voice, his smile, his tattoos. His rough hands bruising your hips.

The light inside turning on when the door opens again brings you back to reality.

The tips of your fingers massage your forehead, stressed when you can't help but stare at his spread legs when Bam takes his seat next to you, bulge just noticeable enough.

He rattles the plastic bag, taking out a small packet of Twizzlers and handing it to you.

"As a thank you. I got you a water bottle too."

Smiling cautiously, you avoid his gaze, taking the water first and gulping it down. Maybe it was a hotter night than you noticed.

As you're ripping open the candy, a Deftones song comes on. Immediately, the two of you look at each other, red sugary tube in between your teeth.

Bam laughs first, looking away and bringing his fingers to his lips, shy. It's contagious enough that you copy him, eyebrows shooting up.

"What are the chances?"

For the two months you were together, Bam hated your appreciation of the band. As an experiment, you tried having sex to their discography a couple of times. It never turned him off, but it's unclear whether it ever turned him on more.

"Did it ever work?"

"What, like, do I have an urgency to fuck something whenever I hear that fucking rythmic guitar? No, not really." His head turns to you, eyes widening with something not entirely negative. "But I do think of you when it comes on. So, I guess it worked in that sense, I don't know."

You meet his shrug with a bitter apology. "Sorry about that. At least you have an unpretentious reason to never listen to them again."

"Yeah." A small chuckle. The skin around his eyes creases when he squints. "Or to give them another chance. Been doing it a lot, actually."

With a pause, you ask him something you might come to regret later. "Did you change your mind?"

His answer comes in the movement of ring-clad fingers rolling the volume button up.

The louder vibrations don't help the fast beating of your heart when Bam drops the bag of alcohol under the seat, calmly turning his body your way and placing a hand on your bare leg.

He doesn't meet your eyes, focused on tracing your skin lightly with his thumb.

It's so small but the rush of his touch, which you have missed terribly, is such that the back of your neck is hot and you feel like puking.

"I thought you hated me."

Those were, to be fair, his last words to you.

Sure, it was said in the middle of a drunken fight over jealousy, but he never called to take it back. A month went by with no contact, seeing each other at parties and pretending to be strangers.

Being this close to him, alone, was bittersweet.

It was a clash of the memories of your last moment together with the excitement of being touched by him again. The potential of being his again.

"I do." Your eyes shoot up at his admittance, betrayed and on edge. "I hate that you left. I hate that you didn't come back the next day yelling and breaking shit at my house. I hate that you never said you hated me back. You just left me."

His hand is still on you, light, testing. It burns, but you don't dare move it, afraid the absence would hurt far more.

"I didn't know you wanted me to do that. But what did you expect, Bam? You yelled it to my face. I gave you time to apologize, but you never did."

"I'm sorry." Blue eyes finally meet yours. And to your horror, they feel genuine in their longing. "I'm sorry I got mad over something stupid, and yelled and said dumb shit I didn't mean. You didn't deserve that."

There's no air in your lungs. You feel like sinking into the car seat. "You're putting me in a very difficult position here, you know?"

The blink of his eyes is slow, and you want to believe it's his way of showing vulnerability.

"Did you miss me?"

The presence on your leg moves and scorches its way. With gritted teeth, you breathe out. Try to, anyway.

“Do you miss how I touch you? My fingers in you? Riding me?"

Your chin is pointed down, following his movement closely and imagining the reward you'd get for being truthful.

His hand wraps around your thigh, thumb pressing on the excessive skin and turning it red. Your skirt is rising and you lick your lips, probably not as discreetly as you planned.

"Because I miss all of it. I want to grab around your throat as I pound into you, and you cry, so beautiful. I want to hear you moan my name again. I need to, because in my dreams that's when you go quiet. It kills me every time I wake up sweating and hard, thinking of your pretty lips trembling."

"Bam." You whisper and his hand freezes in place. Looking into his eyes, you confess. "I'm scared you're gonna hurt me again."

His free hand comes up to your cheek, and you shiver when cold metal meets your burning skin. "I know better now. Let me show you I can treat you right."

The deep bass still playing in the background registers in your brain, and you are hit with flashbacks to so many good moments with the man holding you.

With his shirt balled into your fist, you meet his lips.

It's just that for a few seconds, lips touching, reminiscing on each other. Until his hand squeezes the inside of your thigh and it triggers your muscle memory, moving to take more of his mouth.

Bam has always, and continues to be, the best kisser you have ever had. He leads slow and patient, but loves when you take initiative, matching your pace perfectly.

If this were any other guy you weren't familiar with on a first date, you might spend more time enjoying a nice kiss. But it isn't, your head is pounding and your insides are pulsing.

To get what you want, you push Bam back and move to straddle him, hand never leaving the nape of his neck.

You take a second to look down at him, briefly submissive and needy, eyes glossy as he waits for you to go back to him just as he had been dreaming of.

You let him grab you by the waist and guide you to sit on his lap in the passenger seat of your car, something you had done many times before in his.

Back to making out, you start with wet lips on his neck, then jaw, the sharp ends of his smile that you love so much. Your tongue pokes out and he sucks on it without questioning.

Suddenly, you hear a loud crack and the backrest moves. Not all the way, but enough that you jump back to the driver’s side. Honestly, you can't afford to fix a broken seat, or explain how it broke.

Out of air, you're laughing when Bam turns his head back to you with a glint in his eyes. "I have an idea."

Leaping to the back, he extends a hand to you. He's breathless, flushed pale skin, his hair is out of place and there's a wicked smile on his face. It’s impossible not to mirror it.

You let him pull you onto his lap again.

Bam is quick, sneakily lifting your tank top and exposing your breasts to his busy lips. It was so hot that his spit around your nipples was alleviating, and you whimpered shamelessly, tugging on his dark hair.

Everything was overwhelming, so you don't put too much thought into it before grinding down on the hardness pushing against his black pants. As a response, Bam groans and bites your breast, definitely leaving teeth marks. The pain pulls the first whiny moan out of you tonight.

"I can see why you missed this."

You're teasing because you know where it gets you.

From his hunched position, Bam’s head shoots up, eyes bright in the dark of the deserted street. His tongue licks up the crevice in between your tits.

"You can pretend you didn't miss it too, but I won't believe you."

Smiling, you shoot back, feigning innocence. "Why not?"

"I'll show you."

Cold fingers reach your covered slit under your military green skirt and you suck in a breath. It's beyond your control at this point, and you rub against his hand just as you had done a few moments before on his dick.

Thinking of the swollen member and the fact that you could have it again, not just in your imagination, was thrilling. You feel him lightly press on your clit, and the begging begins.

"Bam, please." Your eyes are closed, but you know he is watching you. "Please, I know the rules, I'm begging."

His thumb teases along the fine line of your underwear. Teeth bite into your skin again. "Such a good girl. I would've done it even if you didn't follow. I really don't deserve you."

Bam's tongue is sucking on your neck when he slips under your panties, just two fingers running along your wet entrance.

Your grip on his locks grows stronger and you practically growl his name. He laughs, satisfied, but it's okay. His hard-on poking your thigh keeps you going.

"Can you pull my skirt up, please? I want you to see how wet I am." It's surprising even to you, that you said this. It's so earnest, when he hasn't earned it.

A glimpse of shock followed by adoration crosses the look he gives you, and so you decide he’ll make your sincerity worthwhile.

As you ordered, your skirt is pulled up to your waist, and Bam gets a good view of your lace white panties. Soaked.

You watch as he lays you down carefully, eyes stuck on your still covered cunt, and removes his shirt. You take in his chest moving up and down, a sign of his nerves, and search for the Heartagram tattoo that was a lot more gratifying than a simple happy trail.

Distracted, you barely feel Bam's teeth graze against your hips when he pulls your underwear down with them. It's hot enough to make you chuckle in disbelief, which earns you a look.

Nice Bam is off for now, because he's never been nice when eating you out. It's always fast, hungry and unrelenting. This time is no different.

He is lapping up your folds, tongue darting in and out as his thumb circles your nub. It's actually too much.

"Bam, I love you, but please. I can't take this. Just get your pants off, now."

You force him to look up by pulling on his hair, drool making his chin shine. He wipes it off with his hands. God, the tattoos and the rings.

He doesn't take his eyes off of you as he unbuckles his belt and pulls his cock free. It's better than you had been hoping, redder and dripping more than you had seen before.

You pull on his necklaces to beckon him on top of you. His dick is on top of your stomach, and you shiver.

Reaching down, you envelop his shaft and give soft slow pumps, feeling the tip of his head carefully. His jaw slacks, and brows furrow, a full moan coming out from pink lips.

Before you can continue, he stops your hand and takes a deep breath.

"Sweetheart, I'm gonna stop you right there. I'm not gonna last through that."

"It's okay."

Bam readjust so he's aligned with your entrance. His face screams focus and anticipation, it's endearing.

You're actually scared of how this is going to feel.

When the tip brushes your clit, the both of you jump slightly, so you wrap your arms across his back to keep him close and encourage him to continue.

He pushes, agonizingly slow. And when he is finally inside, you can see stars.

It feels like everything around you is on fire.

"You okay?"

Nodding, you give him a reassuring smile and a pat on the back, which earns a laugh from him.

"Tell me if you need a break."

Pushing more, Bam is all the way in you. All the good memories rush back to you and you gasp, holding onto him tight.

"Baby, you feel so good. I missed this so bad." Your voice is strained.

You open your eyes to see Bam smiling, smug, pointy incisors standing out to you.

"I know you did.”

"Don't be scared to move, please, I can take it."

"Of course, princess."

So he moves, patiently sliding out halfway and then moving back in. He's being careful because you look like you're struggling, but it's just pent up need.

"Bam, what was I like in your dreams?"

He's still pumping slowly.

"You were wonderful, gorgeous."

"Yeah? I bet I can take more than her." He looks at you quizzically, but amused. "Try me."

Bam's hand closes around your neck. He moves back all the way to the head, just to mercilessly thrust into you until his balls hit your skin.

"That's it, go on."

He's carefully holding you in place so you can take him comfortably as he thrusts faster, his tempo getting more ragged.

You can feel the veins in his cock as you tighten around him, proud of how good he's giving it to you and you are taking it.

You adjust on the seat so he can move both hands to your hips and help you roll them in synch with his.

You're fucking each other as rough as possible, and maybe it's in your head but the windows in your car are fogging up.

Bam is so loud, you’re swallowing your own whimpers just so you can hear him moan freely.

Somehow, while you two are going at it, Bam finds a way to get close to your ear and whisper. "I love you too."

Shock runs through you as your words from moments ago hit you. Fuck, you didn't even know that you loved him. Hearing him say it back was ecstatic, and now he was hitting you right in that perfect spot.

"Bam, please, I'm close."

You're scratching his back when you orgasm, Bam spilling inside you right after.

He's not even moving anymore, and you're still riding your high. The weight of his body and the dark curls covering your eyes, his shoulders slumped against your chest. Of course you love him.

Your car is very tidy, so he uses his shirt to clean you up and you fake a gag, telling him you never want to see him wear it again.

Dressed, you're still laying on the seat. Bam is glowing in all his post sex glory, stomach muscles glistening with sweat. He pulls you roughly under his legs so he is the one straddling you now.

Giggling, under your own bliss, you try your best to fix your hair.

He's kissing your chest again, whispering. "Does this mean we're back together?"

"Do you want to be?”

“I have to say, I perform a lot better in your car than mine."

"I agree." You deadpan and he laughs. "You have to sell that stupid car, it's so cursed."

[squeakintothevoid]

I decided to stop lurking and actually post my thoughts somewhere because of my man Larry here, who shared his reaction to "The Sound of Silence" covered by Disturbed. I've listened to the original by Simon & Garfunkel before but didn't pay much attention to the words. I mean, it's just that memed depression song, right?

What folly! I have failed ye, Simon & Garfunkel! But Disturbed's video made me pay attention to the obvious message:

“This is a song about the inability of people to communicate with each other"

—Art Garfunkel

Okay, I get the point. Now, if I may, I will disturb the sound of silence (ha) to share my own thoughts while I was listening to the song:

[Verse 1] Hello darkness, my old friend I've come to talk with you again Because a vision softly creeping Left its seeds while I was sleeping And the vision that was planted in my brain Still remains within the sound of silence

Let me give you some context about my life. I have social anxiety. Or did, I might not meet the criteria anymore. But woah boy, did I have social anxiety. I mean, sometimes I'd try to speak and simply could not make a sound. That's how paralyzing my fear of speaking was. I know now that this fear came from being either A) ridiculed or B) ignored whenever I spoke to my parents plus a heaping of religious trauma. Growing up, I'd hear teachers or friends say it's okay, just say what you want, be yourself. Sure, whatever. *eyeroll* I don't even have anything to say and if I did, why would I risk telling anyone? But that positive messaging still seeped in my brain somehow where it remained dormant.

[Verse 2] In restless dreams, I walked alone Narrow streets of cobblestone 'Neath the halo of a street lamp I turned my collar to the cold and damp When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light That split the night, and touched the sound of silence

Of course, I still had thoughts and emotions to say even though I kept them inside. At age 10, I considered myself like a wise sage, only speaking when necessary, but really I was emotionally stunted and always afraid. I slowly learned how to socialize though, but real progress was made when I started gaining confidence and trust in myself. Mainly because of movies and music, hence the title of my blog.

More context about me: I was raised Mormon (Latter-day saint). So like, in a cult. Or a "high-demand religion" if "cult" is too much of a buzzword for ya. Anyway, I ended up attending BYU, a Mormon college that will kick you out for not conforming to their strict "honor" code. I was understandably depressed while I was there. Except I didn't understand why at the time.

Then my eyes were stabbed by the neon light of Freddie Mercury.

For real though, Queen, among other artists, helped me see that I felt stuck, and that the next step on my hero's journey was to break free from Mormonism and my parent's expectations (and somehow not get expelled and homeless at the same time). To have confidence in myself and keep myself alive.

[Verse 3] And in the naked light I saw Ten thousand people, maybe more People talking without speaking People hearing without listening People writing songs that voices never shared And no one dared disturb the sound of silence

So now I was aware of how sinister and blatantly false Mormonism was. In a university full of devout followers that will tattle on you. Followers only talking about what they're allowed to talk about, and anyone who stands out is shut down. Everything seemed so platitudinous and hateful now. Man, I wasn't ever thinking for myself before, was I? I knew there were other people at BYU in my situation, because they said so on reddit, but I didn't dare make my thoughts known to anyone in person.

[Verse 4] "Fools," said I, "You do not know Silence like a cancer grows Hear my words that I might teach you Take my arms that I might reach you" But my words, like silent raindrops, fell And echoed in the wells of silence

Simon speaks like a prophet. In Mormonism, you have a prophet that claims to be speaking the words of God. So like, you gotta listen to him or go to hell. Actually, Mormons don't really have the same idea of hell as mainstream Christianity, but you definitely won't get into the special VIP top level of heaven if you don't shut up and obey the prophet with exactness. Prophets give you commandments. Prophets tell you to give all your time, talents, and money to the LDS church. (Although they only enforce giving 10% of your income.)

But Simon isn't really speaking to tell you what to do and not do. He, like most artists, is trying to reach out to you. To emotionally express himself and encourage others to do the same. It's a refreshing idea of what a prophet could be. He's calling us fools not because we are sinners, but because he wants to share what he has learned. His writing isn't to make a cash grab. But catchy music that can be echoed in the background tends to get the best sales.

[Verse 5] And the people bowed and prayed To the neon god they made And the sign flashed out its warning In the words that it was forming And the sign said, "The words of the prophets are written on the subway walls and tenement halls And whispered in the sound of silence"

Most people see the "neon god" line as a critique of consumerism, and I wouldn't disagree. It's sad that television and music in many ways raised me better than my parents, that the religious texts that promised me spiritual awakening didn't have shit on Freddie's whimsical ballads. But these "neon signs" are what saved me.

Following fandoms, lurking on tumblr, sending superwholock memes to my friends, watching stupid youtube crack videos, staying up late just vibing to the music I had. These are my prophets. It's sharing all these little pop culture things that culminated in me finally realizing that I'm alright as I am, even with my cringe hyperfixations. That maybe I can slowly learn how to speak my truth and say with a newfound sense of confidence that I do want extra ketchup. Or that I'm rejecting my parent's one true religion.

It's all good now, I never got expelled nor disowned as I feared, but I'm still healing from things. I can't say I'm a beacon of self-confidence either (right now, I'm worried this whole post is too long and pretentious). So if you took the time to read this, thanks! I know tumblr can be a hellscape of a site but I appreciate y'all. It's our little ramblings that get us through the day when we feel like nobody understands us. Here's to the whispers in the tenement halls!

Yes, I did shoehorn a spn gif in my first tumblr post, what are ya gonna do about it?

[mareenavee]

Criminal asks! *grabby hands*

8, 15, and 22 please :)

Maple!! I was half wondering if you'd made this ask game before I saw the actual post this morning LOL. They seem like your kind of discussions, and I'm here for it.

Thank you for these!

From this caustic ask game right here.

8. common fandom opinion that everyone is wrong about

We're all entitled to our opinions, but I refuse to believe Ondolemar actually wants to be a Thalmor. He does some real RIEKLING BEHAVIOR SHIT in the Embassy for you if you get some bard or whatever arrested for their Talos-flavored nonsense. (Please, I hate this quest as much as the next person. I'm definitely live and let live ambivalent about Talos nonsense.) Granted, to get him to help here, you yourself have to not be a [redacted] idiot with the vocabulary of a Riekling yourself. :>

If he agrees to help you, then you get this gem of a conversation five feet from Elenwen, who is, presumably his superior:

Ondolemar: "How dare you speak of the Thalmor in such a disgusting manner!" Razelan: "What? I didn't... hmm? No listen, you must have misunderstood... I would never openly insult your... that is to say..." Ondolemar: "Your insults and provocations have gone far enough! I'd kill you where you stand if I wasn't bound by my oath as an officer of the Aldmeri Dominion."

This is Riekling Behavior. It is Causing Problems On Purpose for some [redacted] just because they helped with a simple quest he could have definitely thrown his power around to accomplish without thievery and tomfoolery.

To my eye he wanted to see if you, the player, were willing to throw away all reason to help him, and do so without getting your ass caught and thrown in jail. He needs people who can manage simple tasks without getting the entire government involved so he can trust you in the future. For what? Very out of character to LET IN RANDOM PEOPLE to secret Thalmor business in a secret Thalmor unjoinable faction.

He does not want to be part of this and/or is trying to do something about them. Bet. (Anyway thanks for coming to my TES talk.)

15. That one thing you see in fanart all the time

Hmm. I am usually in awe of fanart to be perfectly honest. But I suppose, and this is likely my very Aro/Ace brain, if I see a lot of fanart of pairings of OC/NPC, and I can't tell what the OC's deal is outside of who they are paired with -- ie, set aside, they have no personality at all on their own, then I'm going to be a little less likely to give the art attention. I want to know who the characters are, not just who they're [redacted.] Ya know what I mean? Sorry that's pretty blunt but it's true. I think this is why my favorite fanart is from or for people whose characters are part of a larger work -- ie a comic or a fanfiction. So I can understand the character.

This is specifically about fanart of pairings with no story other than x OC is with x NPC, that's it, that's their story. I am usually still in awe of just OC artwork, or just NPCs. And yeah there's always going to be exceptions but the question brought to mind maybe three artists I find myself bored of seeing work from LOL out of the hundreds I do love to follow.

22. your favorite part of canon that everyone else ignores

...Am I allowed to say Athis here?

Okay so. I don't think I have to defend him to you, Maple lol (: But for others who may be out of the loop -- we stan a good Athis and we just want him to make something of his life. Yes, yes.

Anyway he exists. He's that one elf dude in the Companions? That one, yes. He was a shell of a character, yes, in Vanilla. He also looks a bit... We'll just keep our opinions on the vanilla art direction to ourselves in this case. Anyway it's little wonder he's been ignored...

But yes, please, you're ignoring a favorite bean, friends. Write more Athis. I don't even care how you write him, but please. Join me in the tag. LOL he deserves attention.

I picked him for World because he was a shell character and due to the project I've become enamored of all the iterations that could be. So ... join me in the brain rot. Yes, thank you.