#as if every other thing in your life that you live every day isnt more likely to kill you than a caving accident

[hurthermore]

Haaiii i wanted to come here to express how much i love A Misconduct of Love, bbygrl had me reading until 2am when i had work at 10 today 😭😭😭 i work at a library and im pretty much in the computer lab the entire day (which is exactly where i want to be because i have sweet F-A to do in here, so you're fic has taken me🩷🩷🩷) literally sitting at my little desk, kicking my feet and twirling my hair reading Alastor fawn over Reader even if his intentions are slightly ill-intended AKSHSODJWI only slightly, but I support Alastor's wrongs 🩷🩷🩷 i dont know if you listen to Will Wood at all, but I was listening to his song Vampire Reference in A Minor Key, all the while conducting my own little delusion of your Alastor having this push-pull relationship with Reader. Where its already established how crazy they are for each other, but Reader has yet to leave her vile husband (its the roaring 20's, so it's not like she's really in a place to divorce him anyway, unforch, but that does make their affair all the more enticing) (also im totally and entirely disregarding NY in this scenario btw, lemme be delusional xoxo) and I can see Reader like. Drugging her husband every night to make him drowsy and crash before he can force her into anything. Then she sneaks off into the night where she finds herself at Alastor's doorstep, and he welcomes her with open arms. Being the gentleman he is, he'll encourage her to share her feelings, how her day has been, what that disgusting husband of hers has been up to and more importantly, did he hurt her today? Is she okay? If shes harmed, he'll do his best to take care of her, console her before leading her into a soft and slow, passionate kiss. One that Reader's been desperately craving and she reaches out to hold his face. He's pulling her in and leaning her back into the couch until he's hovering over her. They're groping each other and Reader, desperate to be loved in a way thats meaningful, reaches for Alastor's collar first. Her fingers are clumsy but determined as shes releasing the buttons on his waistcoat. This certainly isnt the first time this has happened, but Alastor remains pleasantly surprised everytime she initiates first, but that doesnt mean he'll giving her the satisfaction of pleasuring him first. No matter what, its always his utmost duty to treat her until shes had her fill - until shes begging for him to finally be inside her, and god knows he could never deny her. With Alastor, she wants it all. She wants his everything and anything he is willing to provide her. Dare she say, she wouldnt even mind if she ended up pregnant with Alastor's child (i have a breeding kink IRL, and I strongly believe, after falling into bed with Alastor so many times, she'd develop her own breeding kink with him as well) 🩷 they'd become addicted to each other, and it'd be even sexier if she did end up pregnant by Alastor, falsely allowing her husband to believe its his child until both Reader and Alastor reel up and incenerate his ass together 🩷 (burn his ass alive in that horrible, awful house shes been forced to live in for the last year. And listen tearfully as Alastor begs her, genuinely and tearfully begs her to come live with him. Be his wife and let him love her the way she deserves to be loved. And they can be happy together, they can build a beautiful life together with their little one. He genuinely cannot live another day without her, and she feels the same🩷)

.....sorry for writing essentially my own fanfic of *your* fanfic in your inbox, you can delete this if you want!! You have me romanticising at my job today, trust that I will be thinking about Alastor and Reader for the rest of my afternoon xoxoxo ilu 🩷✨️

AHHH TYSM FOR ENJOYING MISCONDUCT!! I also LOVE this so much, unfortunately it’s not where I plan to take misconduct sorry.

But don’t apologise for writing this! I loved it and I kinda wished more people would write things like this for misconduct it makes me so happy sksks

Ty for taking your time to not only read misconduct but write all of this! I’m working hard to try to finish the next chapter!! 👉👈

[moodr1ng]

"cave exploring gone wrong" it didnt just 'go wrong' if ppl die in there its bc they or the ppl w them fucked up!! stop slandering caves caves dont do anything they are spaces!! all THEY are responsible for is the inescapable, gaping, constant call to home of their depths. once you answer it thats your problem..

[mothandpidgeon]

Unrequited (bfd! pre-outbreak!/Jackson!Joel Miller x f!reader)

Moth's Masterlist // follow @mothandpidgeon-updates and turn on notifications to stay updated with my fics!

pairing: bfd! pre-outbreak!/Jackson!Joel Miller x f!reader

rating: E 18+MDNI

summary: You arrive in Jackson 22 years after the outbreak only to be reunited with your best friend’s dad, the man that stole your heart and broke it when you were fourteen– Joel Miller.

contents: best friend's dad, age gap, outbreak night (nothing that isnt in ep 1), big angst, abandonment issues, brief suicidal ideation, daddy issues, grief, Joel guilt, unprotected p in v sex, reader doesn't know where Jakarta is, reader is not described physically but Joel picks (adult) reader up, moth never uses y/n.

wc: 9k

a/n: This has been a bitch to finish but I'm quite proud of where it ended up. It's the longest os I've written which makes me nervous nobody will want to read it but I hope you do.

Thank you a million times to @ezrasbirdie for making me finish this and betaing. Also thank you @lowlights for listening to me ramble on this! Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Old man, take a look at your life. I’m a lot like you. Neil Young

You’re waiting for Sarah on the front steps when she gets home. School ended nearly two hours ago and you’ve been sitting here a ball of nerves. The whole world seems to be uneasy this afternoon. You notice sirens, a team of fighter jets scrambling above. It's like your anxiety has spilled out of your chest and it’s taken life all around you. 

You finger the corner of your notebook. On the inside are doodles— hearts and bubble letters. Juvenile daydreams put to paper. Your first name and after it his last, testing out the sound of who you would be if only you’d been born in a different decade. Mrs. Miller. 

Sarah doesn’t look very happy to see you. It’s been two weeks since you’ve talked to her and you’ve never felt more lonely. 

Her words still ring in your ears. 

“It’s like you’re in love with my dad.”

“No I'm not!” you said, your whole body tingling with the heat of embarrassment. You’d never felt so exposed in your life. 

“Sometimes I think that’s the only reason you’re even friends with me,” she said. 

You've been ruminating on that accusation ever since. You pine for Mr. Miller the way only a fourteen year old can. It’s the kind of infatuation that makes you understand how Romeo and Juliet ended in tragedy. All-consuming, unrequited, so in love it hurts.

So maybe Sarah’s right. Your heart flutters every time Mr Miller appears in the kitchen, wearing a dark t-shirt that hugs his biceps. You try not to stare at his aquiline nose when he drives you home from Sarah’s soccer games. Sleep overs at the Miller’s house mean more opportunities to be around him, learn the little details that make him him. And there were plenty of sleep overs because your parents are always so busy fighting, they never bother to keep track of you. 

But you’ve been in agony without your friend. It’s a pain sharper and more present than the yearning you’ve felt for Mr. Miller. You’ve talked to her every day since you moved to Austin in fourth grade and since this fight, there’s been an empty space in your heart. 

“Hi.” You stand up, hoisting your backpack awkwardly over your shoulder. 

“I’m supposed to go next door,” Sarah says. 

“Can I just talk to you for a minute?” you ask. 

She sighs but opens the front door with her key and lets you follow her into the living room. 

“I’m sorry,” you say before you lose your nerve. “You’re right. I like your dad.”

It’s probably the most embarrassing thing you’ve ever owned up to. You wish you could explain to her that you know how silly it is to be in love with a full grown man, your best friend’s dad. It’s not like he’ll ever see you as anything other than a kid. 

You can’t put into words how he makes you feel. It’s not just his broad shoulders or chocolate eyes, though it’s undeniable that he’s gorgeous. He asks about school and comes to see you in the musical. Joel is an adult that actually gives a crap about you. 

You want to tell Sarah that one of the reasons you love her father so much is because of her. Because he’s such a good dad, because he raised such a cool, funny, smart daughter. That Sarah makes him better. 

It’ll take years for you to find words for all of that. So you just do your best right now. 

“I can’t help it. I wish I could,” you say. 

That’s true. And not just because your crush has made you lose your only friend. It’s exhausting to feel such a powerful longing, to want something you know you’ll never have. It’s torture. 

“But you’re my best friend. And that’s not why. I promise,” you say. 

Sarah sighs heavily, her pretty hazel eyes full of remorse. 

“I’m sorry,” she says. “I shouldn’t have said that. I just get jealous sometimes.”

“I promise I won’t make you feel that way ever again. I could never like him more than you,” you tell her, sitting beside her on the couch and looking her in the eye so she knows you mean it. “He’s…old.”

You both laugh. 

“He’s so lame. This morning he said that Jakarta is in the Middle East,” she giggles. 

You don’t know where the hell Jakarta is but of course Sarah does. You throw your arms around her. You’ve missed her so damn much. The past two weeks have felt like two decades. 

“I’m sorry,” you tell her. 

“Me too.” She returns your embrace. “Do you have to go home? You can sleep over if you want. It’s my dad’s birthday but I don’t think he’s going to be home until late.”

Your heart twinges at the offer and not because it means you might see Mr. Miller at breakfast. You won’t even look at him again. Tonight is about your friend.

You end up watching some corny action movies and gorging yourselves on microwave popcorn. Everything feels right again. You don’t think about Mr. Miller. In fact, you’re grateful that his double has gone over into a late night so you don’t have to be in the same room. You’ve sworn to yourself that you’ll act normal around him but you’re not sure that sheer willpower can stop you from getting butterflies when he’s right there. 

At some point, you pass out in front of the tv, happier than you’ve been in a long time. 

Sarah nudges you awake sometime after midnight, concern all over her face. 

“Was I snoring?” you ask, groggy. 

She’s looking out the window. Helicopters fly so low overhead, the whole house rattles. It’s a wonder you slept through all of this noise— the choppers are joined by the wail of a car alarm, pops like fireworks. The TV is playing a high-pitched tone and when you peer at it, you see a test pattern on the screen. 

Dread settles in the pit of your stomach. 

“Something’s going on,” Sarah says almost to herself. 

A sudden thud against the back door makes you both jump. You swear, shaken out of your sleepy haze. 

“Mercy?” Sarah asks. 

You’ve spent enough time with Sarah to become acquainted with their neighbors The Adlers and their border collie Mercy. Mr Adler used to pay you each a dollar to walk him. Mercy’s frantically pawing at the glass. 

Sarah goes to the door and steps into the yard. You follow, unsure you want to leave the familiar safety of the house but unwilling to be alone with such an eerie feeling in the air. 

“What’re you doing out here, boy?” Sarah says, crouching down to pet the whimpering animal.  

“Where’s your dad?” you ask her. 

You hope the question doesn’t make Sarah think you’ve already forgotten your promise. Everything’s just so wrong. You’d feel a lot better with an adult around. 

“Don’t think he came home yet,” she says. You can hear the concern in her voice. “Let’s take Mercy back. The Alder’s will be home.” 

Mercy puts up a fight as Sarah pulls him across the lawn. It’s late and dark save the street lamp and a few porch lights that have been left on. You shiver despite the fact that it’s a warm southern night. 

The front door to the Adler’s house stands open and inside is black. No. Bad. You want to run back to the Miller’s house and lock the door behind you but the promise of Mr. And Mrs. Adler inside keeps you moving towards the darkened entrance. Maybe Mrs. Adler will give you some cookies while you wait for Mr. Miller. 

Sarah steps in first. The dog bucks and strains against her grip on his collar. Sarah fights to keep hold of him but Mercy’s thrashing makes him hard to pin down. He pulls free from Sarah’s grasp and darts away. 

You have half a mind to do the same but Sarah keeps going forward. She’s scared, too, her breaths shallow as she tip toes down the hall.  

“Mrs. Adler?” Sarah asks, her voice barely above a whisper. 

You reach for each other without even realizing it and you enter the kitchen holding hands. 

What you see there is beyond your wildest imaginings. There’s blood, a lot of it. Sarah’s shoe slides in the stuff and you grab her before she loses her balance. The room is cast in shadows but a street light streams through the window in the side door. Its beam falls over the form of Mr. Adler, limp on the floor. His back is against the door and a gush of dark blood sparkles in the sodium vapor. 

You’ve never seen so much blood, never seen anyone injured so brutally. It looks like he’s been attacked by some wild animal. Mercy was acting strange but the dog couldn’t do that.

“Help me,” he rasps. 

He’s speaking to you. You’re actually here. This is happening and you need to do something. 

But before you can form a coherent thought, your eyes travel deeper into the kitchen. Beside the island is more blood…and more bodies. 

As if seeing Sarah’s neighbor with his neck ripped open wasn’t enough of a horror, you’re now watching Nana hunched over Mrs. Adler’s corpse, her face buried in the younger woman’s neck. The scene before you makes no sense. Most of the time the old woman is barely conscious, hasn’t left her wheelchair in years and yet she’s on all fours before you looking feral. 

Sarah squeezes your hand so tight you’re afraid your knuckles will break. 

Nana slowly raises her face to you. Her eyes are pitch black and her mouth teems with twitching tendrils. You are staring at a living, breathing monster. 

When she leaps at you, you and Sarah bolt for the door. Your heart hammers against your ribs. Sarah makes it out first and races towards the sidewalk. 

Once you’ve gotten onto the front step, you slam the storm door shut behind you to trap whatever that thing is inside. SLAM. Nana collides with the door and it rattles violently. You hold it closed with every ounce of strength in you, listening to the creature behind it scratch and wail and willing yourself not to look through the glass to see its horrible face. Terror holds your muscles taught. You’re not sure how long you can stay like this, your sneakers skidding across the ground. 

With a roar, Uncle Tommy’s truck pulls up at that very moment and Mr. Miller hops out of the passenger seat before its even come to a full stop. He’s a fearsome sight, broad and rippling with untamed energy, his muscular arms outlined by the headlights of the car. You’ve never been more grateful for his presence. 

This nightmare is almost over. Joel’s come to save you. 

“Girls get in the car!” he bellows. His voice is raw and ragged. 

Just as you’re ready to make a run for it, The door flings out towards you, and you’re thrown aside as if you weigh nothing. You hit the driveway hard, your head connecting with concrete. 

For a moment, you can’t hear anything but the gush of blood pumping in your ears. You’re dizzy. Suffocating. There’s a warm trickle at your temple. Sarah calls your name. Your vision is blurred but you can make out the ghoulish form of the creature barreling towards her. 

“What’re we doing, Joel?” you hear Tommy ask.

There’s a thud and then quiet. 

You gasp again and again but your lungs won’t fill. 

Are you dying? Help. You need help. The monster lays lifeless at Joel’s feet and you pray that he’ll scoop you up and take you away from this. Your eyes finally come into focus to see Mr. Miller comforting Sarah, holding her face in his big palms, so fixated on her that he doesn’t notice that Mr. Adler has appeared in the doorway. 

Mr. Adler is still covered in so much blood and his gait has become twitchy as if his legs are on backwards. He moves towards them and you want to call out a warning but you’re still choking for air. Luckily he hasn’t noticed you but he soon stands between you and the Millers. 

“We’ve got to move,” Tommy says. 

“Get in the car,” Mr. Miller says to Sarah, throwing a protective arm in front of her. 

“But she’s hurt!”

She steps towards you. You’d cry her name but you’ve still got the wind knocked out of you and you’re too terrified to make a noise. Mr. Adler makes an inhuman sound as he advances, a croaking, growling gurgle. 

Mr. Miller pushes Sarah towards the truck. 

“Leave her!” he barks. “Get in the car!”

You sputter and choke as you watch Sarah, Joel, and Tommy drive away. 

You wait for a long time. 

As the truck pulls off of the curb, Mr. Adler is joined by his wife in the street, making chase. You’re finally able to draw breath and rouse your body off of the ground. You scramble back across the lawn to the Miller’s house and lock yourself inside. There’s enough adrenaline coursing through you that you’re able to push the sofa to barricade the front door. You draw all of the curtains and grab the biggest knife you can find in the kitchen. It’s ridiculous, something you’ve seen in scary movies, but you’re living in one right now. 

You hide yourself away. Sarah’s bedroom seems like the obvious place to do it. Familiar and safe. You curl yourself into a ball in the corner, clutching your knife and staring at the closed door with wild eyes. 

Sirens go through the night. Gunshots. At one point even the roar of a jet engine. 

For hours your body quivers as you try to make sense of what you’ve just witnessed. Flesh-eating mutants. Gore. Death. You keep waiting to wake up from a bad dream but you don’t. They left you. They abandoned you in a nightmare. 

No. That’s impossible. You can accept that a comatose elderly woman made supper out of her son in law but you refuse to believe that Joel would desert you. 

He’ll come back for you. Sarah will convince him. There’s always been room for you in their family. 

But as the sun begins to peek through the blinds and the noises outside fade away, you begin to lose hope. 

The muscles in your body go slack, exhausted from hours of uncontrollable shaking. Your instinct for survival and your need for sleep war with each other. Exhaustion is winning. 

You cautiously open the door to Sarah’s room. The house is still, more quiet than you’ve ever experienced. You creep into the room at the end of the hall. The olive green sheets on Joel’s bed are still messy from when he woke up here the day before. A normal morning. His birthday. 

You rest the knife on the night stand amongst the things he emptied from his pockets— coins, receipts, a stray nail. You slip into the bed and wrap yourself up. It smells like him— spicy deodorant and sweat, fresh cut lumber like the hardware store. The scent reminds you of all those times he was close, when your heart leapt. 

They’ll come back. Mr. Miller wouldn’t leave you. 

He left you to die but you just go on living.  

It takes some time before you’re brave enough to leave the Miller’s house and see what’s left of the world. Your parents are nowhere to be found. It’s safe to assume they were infected that first night. 

You’re on your own. 

A QZ is set up outside of San Antonio. They assign you to housing for separated minors. An orphanage. You never make friends, not really. Trust is too fickle.

At night you lay in your bunk and wonder what life would be like if anybody gave a shit about you. Maybe you would have been with your parents when it all went down. You’d be a snarling monster but at least you wouldn’t be alone. 

On the worst nights, when you like yourself the least, Mr. Miller’s words echo around your skull. “Leave her.” She's not worth it. Forget her. 

You don’t imagine yourself in his arms anymore. Instead you picture him and Sarah and Uncle Tommy, all happy and safe hiding out somewhere idyllic. A sweet little cabin with a stream nearby, surrounded by peaceful woods. You’ve heard some people live like that.

Some days you wish you were with them. Others you wish they were all dead. 

When you turn 18, you age out of your living situation. It couldn’t come soon enough. Things are changing and it seems like all the kids that stay in FEDRA school are being groomed to go straight into uniform. You dodged that bullet but life’s not easy. Now you’re well and truly alone, scraping by to keep food in your mouth and a roof over your head. 

It only lasts a few years, though. By the time you’re 21, there’s an emergency evacuation. Outbreaks are happening within the walls and with so many people living on top of each other, it’s only a matter of time before shit hits the fan. They send swaths of people to Dallas but word is, there’s no room for such numbers and they consider everyone from San Antonio an infection risk. 

You’ve heard enough stories to know what that means. There won’t be a warm welcome when you reach the next QZ. So you ditch the convoy and head north. 

You bounce around for years, sometimes with others, a lot of time solo. Doing what you have to. It’s not a life, just survival. 

By the time you reach the wilds of Wyoming, you’ve had enough. You break off from the group you’re traveling with. You leave them this time, just decide to walk into the forest and let the earth swallow you up. You’re exhausted, sick of hanging on by a thread. Too much of a coward to kill yourself, you wander around waiting for the cold or your hunger or a bear to do it for you. 

They find you. Some scouts that look mean and tough take pity on you and offer you a place with them in a commune where things are half normal. 

It’s the first time being alone has worked to your advantage.  

Jackson is a strange place. It has walls like the QZ but it’s quaint. There’s laughter and evergreen wreaths, happy children that build snowmen in the center of town. Some of these kids have no idea how fucked up the world has become. All they know is this charming little haven. 

You spend the first few days in the infirmary, getting patched up, regaining your strength. You feel like an animal compared to the people in your new community. It’s hard to accept that they’re willing to help you, no strings attached. 

Eventually you’re well enough to have your own place. They set you up with a little apartment over one of the stores in town. You’re invited to take your meals in the dining hall. 

It takes you back to those first days at your new middle school after you came to Austin. Unfortunately, this time Sarah’s not there to offer you a seat at her lunch table. 

You keep to yourself, overwhelmed by all of the strange new faces. Head down, you eat your breakfast. It’s the best food you’ve had in years. As your belly fills, you start to relax and try to get used to the idea of this being home. 

Then you hear a familiar voice say your name. You wonder if you’re hallucinating when you see him standing in front of you. 

He’s gained a few decades but he looks good. His hair is nearly shoulder length and there’s a mustache on his upper lip but that’s him alright. 

“Uncle Tommy?” you manage. 

“That really you?” he asks. 

Tommy puts a gentle hand on your shoulder. His smile wrinkles the corners of his eyes. You nod and you’re smiling too.  

You expect to be upset. Tommy was there when you were abandoned after all. But you’re flooded with relief and a small flame of hope. 

“Shit. What’re the chances?” he asks, studying your face. “C’mere.”

He pulls you through the lines of tables. Your head spins with questions. How did he end up in Wyoming of all places? How long has he been here? Did you actually die out there only to be sent to this strange afterlife? 

“You remember this old son of a bitch?” Tommy asks with a chuckle when he stops at the table in a far corner. 

And suddenly you’re face to face with Mr. Miller. 

He’s old. Grey hairs run through his stubble and curl from his temple. There are deep lines in his face. He’s still good looking despite how weathered his features have become, still broad, still with that wonderful silhouette.

It’s funny. In your mind’s eye, you’ve never imagined Joel aging. He stayed the same while you grew up. 

He looks at you for a long moment and then his thick bottom lip falls agape. His eyes glitter and his dimple appears as he recognizes the woman that you’ve become. 

“Kiddo,” he whispers as he stands up. 

He pulls you into a hug and his wide palm smooths down your back. He still smells just how you remember and without warning you’re sobbing into the front of his flannel. 

You spent hours upon hours imagining what you might say if you ever saw him again. Sometimes it was a speech biting with venom, others a confession, a question. Now, though, your mind is blank, overwhelmed that fate has brought you back together. A testament to your survival. 

“It’s alright, babygirl. You’re okay,” he says into your hair. Words you needed to hear all those years ago. 

You stay like this for a long time, surrounded by him. He holds you the way you wished he had as you cried into his pillow in that empty house. Eventually you pull yourself together with a shaking breath. 

“Where’s Sarah?” you ask, casting your eyes around the crowd in the mess hall. 

There’s a girl sitting beside Joel, her curly hair pulled back into a ponytail, watching this scene unfold. Everyone else is polite enough to pretend you’re not bawling in the middle of lunch. Can’t be the first time it’s happened. 

At your question, Tommy goes stone faced. The muscle in Joel’s jaw ticks. 

You shake your head in disbelief. “Infected?” you squeak out. 

“It wasn’t like that,” Joel chokes. 

“She didn’t make it through that first night,” Tommy says. 

It’s a punch in the gut, the air’s knocked out of your chest all over again. While it had crushed you to be abandoned, part of you understood. Joel had to choose and he picked his daughter. Even if he’d been in love with you the way you used to dream about, he always would have chosen Sarah. You couldn’t hold that against him, no matter how much it hurt. There just wasn’t anyone in the world that would have saved you. 

But knowing that he failed her, that he failed you both, makes you sick. All those years of bitterness come flooding back to you and your tears turn hot and furious. 

“You let her die?” you demand. “You told her to leave me behind and you didn’t even save her?” You push Joel, your hands against the wet spots you left on his shirt. It’s ineffectual. He barely moves against your pathetic shove but his face crumples. You know he hates himself as much as you do in that moment but that’s not enough. You hit him as hard as you can and he does nothing to defend himself. 

“Hey, hey,” Tommy says, trying a hand on your shoulder. 

“You should’ve saved her,” you bark. 

Heads have turned now as Tommy holds you back. 

“I hoped you were dead every day since you left me,” you say. 

You can see on his face that Joel’s definitely wished the same thing. 

You go on berating him, your tears mixing with spit as you snarl and shout, until Tommy’s able to wrestle you out of the dining hall. 

The summer comes. After a long, cold winter, everyone in Jackson welcomes the change of seasons with open arms. Everyone but Joel. 

Ellie was a salve for the deep wounds on his heart. They’ll never fully heal but at least they stopped overwhelming him for some time. Since your dramatic reunion, though, those scars have been torn open once more. Especially today. 

It’s warm and there’s barely a cloud in the sky. The July weather is mild compared to summers in Texas. Fresh air blows in through the open windows of the house, beckoning Joel outside but he has no desire to be in the sunshine. 

“You okay?” Ellie asks. 

She’s just come down the stairs. It’s early and Joel’s already at the kitchen table. Didn’t sleep much. 

He and Ellie have been together long enough that she understands the wordless shifts in his moods. They’ve gotten worse since you arrived in Jackson. He does his work and patrols, sometimes he nurses a whiskey alone at the bar. The rest of the time he keeps to himself. He’s sliding back towards the man she met back in Boston. Joel’s rebuilt the walls that surrounded him, brick by brick since that afternoon in the dining hall. 

“I was going to meet Dina at the mess. Want to come? Or I could stick around?” she offers. 

It’s going to be one of those dark days, the kind that makes him question why he’s been hanging on for so long, and Ellie knows it. She’s giving him a lifeline, offering to be with him so he doesn’t have to ask. He should accept it, but he doesn’t want to waste his energy putting on a brave face for her when he feels so broken. 

“That’s alright, Ellie. Go on,” he says. 

She doesn’t push him. She never does. She just gives a sympathetic smile before she slips out. 

Once seems gone, his heart begins to ache. 

Sometime later, there’s a knock at the door. The last person he expects to see on the porch is you. You look a little nervous, like if he’d taken longer to come to the door you might’ve bolted. 

He hasn’t spoken to you since that day that you came back into his life but the words you said play relentlessly on loop in his mind. He should have made amends by now. You were his daughter’s best friend and of all the places at the end of the world, you’ve ended up in the same town. He passes by the old pharmacy you live above just about every day, thinks about seeing if you’re in so you can have a conversation. He even knows what he’d say, but he can’t work up the courage. There aren’t any words that can make right what he did to you. 

The guilt metastasized deep in his gut. His failure compounded. 

So he doesn’t blame you for keeping your distance, avoiding him when your paths cross. He lets you be angry with him, as he deserves. 

“Want some company?” you ask. 

He recognizes the look on your face and it dawns on him that he might not be the only person struggling today. He steps aside to let you in. 

Joel sets a cup of tea down in front of you. It’s not the real thing. Dried herbs from the garden Maria keeps. You’ve taken a seat across from him at the table, glancing around the kitchen so you don’t have to look at him. 

“Surprised you remember,” he says. 

“My best friend’s birthday?”

He shrugs as he pulls up a chair across from you. “Was a long time ago.”

“I think you underestimate the power of female friendships.” 

You wear a soft smile that makes Joel’s heart ache a little harder. He takes a good look at you, seeing you up close for the first time. There are hints of the girl he knew back in Austin but she’s buried under years of hard living. 

You’re the same age Sarah would have been today. The same age he was when he lost everything. 

You sigh and scratch awkwardly at your neck. 

“Listen, I’m sorry about…all that shit I said. It’s…” you trail off and he’s sure you’re still mad at him, deep down. 

“I reckon I’m the one that owes an apology. I shouldn’t’ve left you back there. Sarah begged me not to,” he admits. “I was trying to keep her safe. But I fucked that up, too.” 

“That’s not true. I was just angry,” you tell him. 

“I was always so pissed at your parents for not caring enough about you. Turns out I was just as bad,” he says. 

He hadn’t given any thought to the choice he made all those years ago. His priority was his family and he had no room for the rest of humanity. Joel didn’t realize until he saw your face again just how selfish that had made him. The past months he’s been haunted by the thought of it, a young thing all alone in the chaos. If Sarah’s watching over him, which sometimes he hopes she is, she’d be ashamed. 

“I’ve had a lot of time to think since I got here and…I don’t blame you. I’m not your kid. It just—“ You laugh without humor. “God, it’s so stupid but I had a huge crush on you.”

Joel’s eyebrows shoot up. You fiddle with the chipped handle on your mug.

“I know. I was just a kid but I was head over heels for you,” you say.

Joel can feel himself blushing. It’s a sweet thought. He’s honored in a strange way. He remembers the gravity of Sarah’s crushes– Leonardo DiCaprio, Usher, some guy with a lip ring from one of those punk bands she listened to.

“So when you left me…I was a little heart broken.”

“Shit,” Joel says. 

“I didn’t say that to make you feel bad. I just wanted you to know why I was so hurt,” you tell him, leaning forward in your seat. “You didn’t know any of that. And it’s not fair to hang that over your head. It wasn’t your job to rescue me.”

“Course it was,” Joel responds. “You were just a kid. I let you down.”

You look at him gratefully and a tear slips down your cheek. It takes a minute for you to fully take that in and it seems like something you’ve needed to hear. 

“Joel. I forgive you,” you tell him. 

A thick knot forms in his throat. 

There’s a litany of names in his mind, so many people he’s failed. Henry and Sam. Tess. Sarah. He’s never expected to be absolved of any of his sins, he doesn't deserve to be forgiven. But those three words make him feel lighter, like he can stop beating himself up. At least for a moment. 

He tucks his chin into his chest trying to keep his own tears from spilling over. Your hand slips over his, a gentle, reassuring touch. 

The two of you stay like that for a little while, crying together, then becoming reacquainted. You talk for a long time. There’s a lot of catching up to do but the conversation keeps coming back to Sarah. It’s a gift to share memories of her, to hear stories that he’s never heard. You knew Sarah better than anyone in the world— her favorite store in the mall, what she wanted for her birthday. Her hopes, her dreams, her fears. No fourteen year old goes to her daddy with her problems. You were there for her, though. Right up until the end. 

“I, um, you should have this,” you say. “Well, it’s yours.”

You and Joel have migrated to the couch in the living room as the afternoon has crept on. You reach into your back pocket, a little reluctant, and pull something out. 

It’s a photograph, dog eared and creased from years of being carried with you. Joel recognizes the picture— you and him and Sarah, all three of you donning life jackets, smiling as you float on a calm river. He and Tommy took Sarah kayaking and she asked if you could tag along. It was a wonderful day. Blue, cloudless sky. 

The last time he saw the photo it was hanging under a magnet on the refrigerator in the kitchen. 

“How’d…”

“I stayed in your house for a while. After. Just kind of hoping you might come back. I took that when I left. And I ate all your food,” you say with a little chuckle. You wipe some snot from your nose. “I guess…well, you probably don’t have a lot of pictures of her.”

You’re right. There was an outdated school photograph in his wallet when they left that night and it had been too painful to look at for years. It still stings a little but it feels easier to share with someone, someone that knew her so well. 

“You sure?” he asks. 

You nod. “I know where to find it.”

He props the picture up on the coffee table so you can both look at it and meditate on that day when everything felt so perfect. 

“Remember we made you play “Crazy in Love” on on repeat the whole way there?” you ask. 

“I still get that goddamn song stuck in my head,” he complains. 

You laugh and rest your head on his shoulder. The familiar gesture cracks something open inside of him. He’s taken back to his favorite nights when he’d watch a movie with Sarah and she’d cuddle against him. Somehow the memory doesn’t hurt as much as he anticipates. 

You sit like that, looking at the picture, both quiet, your smiles fading as you remember what’s happened since. 

“Sometimes I think I see her,” he chokes. 

He’s never told anyone that. But it seems like you might understand, He trusts you won’t meet his admission with a pitying smile. 

“How’s she look?” you ask. 

He can’t help but chuckle. He nods. 

You don’t say anything, you just burrow your head a little deeper into him. Joel puts a gentle kiss in your hair. 

You’re a fixture in the Miller house once again, part of the family. You babysit for Maria and tell her embarrassing stories about Tommy. You and Ellie tease Joel relentlessly. You sit with him in the evenings, sometimes singing along when he pulls out his guitar, other nights neither of you speak at all.

Slowly, you find yourself falling in love with him all over again. It’s not the same infatuation you harbored when you were young. You’re both different people. And you hardly knew him back then. Not really. What did a fourteen year old know about grown men?

The two of you fall into an easy rhythm. After being alone for such a long time, it’s magical to have a companion. Joel seems grateful for the company, too. He’s there whenever you turn around, like a promise. He’s not leaving you behind even if you’re just going from the stables to the library. 

Neither of you acknowledge it, this easy rapport. A light squeeze on your shoulder, holding your hand when you get misty eyed. He probably doesn’t mean anything by it but you’re pretty sure you can’t live without it. You bask in the sweetness of these exchanges, trying not to think too hard about the fact that you used to spend Saturday nights giggling on his daughter’s bedroom floor. 

He’s still Mr. Miller, after all. 

Autumn comes and you’re inseparable. You realize just how much when you convince him to attend the children’s choir performance in town. You expect him to demure. Watching kids being kids must be painful. But he’s by your side in the dining hall as the little ones sing “Clementine” and “Oh Susanna”. 

He puts his arm around your shoulder so you can lean into him. It might just be a paternal gesture, maybe you’re still a little girl in his eyes. That’s ok with you if he keeps absentmindedly massaging your upper arm. You can’t remember the last time you felt so safe, so loved. 

Afterwards, he walks you home and you’re in such a good mood, you start singing to yourself.

“Johnny Cash,” he says approvingly. 

You laugh to yourself. “You know, I started listening to him ‘cause of you. You had his CD in your truck,” you admit.  

You wanted to like all of the things Joel liked. He would think you were so interesting and grown up because you knew all the words to “Riders in the Sky.”

“Least I was a good influence,” Joel says, shaking his head, his cheeks turning pink. 

He’s so handsome when he blushes, you feel a little giddy when you come to stop in front of the old pharmacy. 

“G’night, darlin’,” he says, giving your hand one last squeeze. 

He waits. He’ll stand here and watch you get inside like he always does. He doesn’t need to— it’s not like people even lock their doors in Jackson— but he’s insisted on it so fervently that you stopped arguing. 

You shouldn’t do it. It’s so silly. But there’s a softness in his eyes and his gentle touch still tingles on your arm. His salt and pepper hair is caught in the string lights that line the empty street. You can’t help yourself.  

You kiss him, smoothing your palms up the front of his flannel until you sink your fingers into the curls at the base of his neck. The tip of his nose is cold from the chill in the evening air but his lips are warm and sweet. 

You haven’t had a whole lot of experience kissing. You’d just started doing it when the outbreak happened and things haven’t been very romantic since. This is one of the better ones. Relatively chaste but unbearably tender. Certainly better than you could have imagined all those years ago. 

It lasts longer than you expect. Joel kisses you back. He rests his hand on your waist and the way it covers so much of your back makes you swoon. Soon, though, he’s pulling away, cradling your cheek. 

“We shouldn’t do that,” he says.

“I know,” you sigh. You’re reluctant to break away, savoring the brush of his nose against yours. 

It’s all wrong but you’re not ashamed for trying it. 

“Just once. I’ve always wanted to,” you say. 

He presses his lips into your forehead. It feels bittersweet. A kiss you longed for for twenty years came and went. 

You wave to him from the door before you go in for the night. 

That kiss confirms Joel’s fears.

He’s spent months convincing himself that this is completely platonic. He would never have feelings for his daughter’s best friend. Even if he always wants to be around you.   

He’s looking after you, comforting you, protecting you. He’s making up for those years that he made you suffer through. You forgave him but he’ll never stop atoning. 

And then you kissed him. 

Suddenly, he’s buried in an avalanche of thoughts he’s been disavowing. 

You’re pretty and soft. You're strong and you ease the pain of his memories. You make him feel a little less alone. 

The warmth of your lips, your body pressed to his. He was ready to lose himself in you. 

That’s when he heard it. 

It was Sarah’s voice chiding him with all the reasons why this is wrong. 

She’s been in his head, his inner critic since the day she died, pointing out every failure and weakness in him. He could picture her looking down on him with disgust. She’s the same age as your daughter. She was just a kid when you met her. She deserves better than you. 

He’s making the same mistake as before, letting his instinct get the better of him. The responsible part of him takes control. He can’t give you any more reasons to try and kiss him again. 

If Joel is good at one thing it’s denying himself. 

He backs off and you can sense it, he knows you do. Sometimes he catches you looking at him and there’s a longing in your eye. It fucking kills him but it’s just another reason why he’s no good for you. 

Despite whatever it does to you, you haven’t got anybody else in Jackson so you stick around. He can only imagine how much it hurts you. 

“Why did I go north?” you complain when Joel opens the front door. You’re holding a scarf tight around your neck, shivering against the cold. The sky is a dismal shade of gray, snowfall on the horizon. 

Joel gets you in the house with a chuckle. He starts a fire, a luxury you little apartment doesn’t afford. You shiver in front of the hearth. 

“Traded for this,” you say, pulling a thick book out of your coat and tossing it onto the coffee table. 

“Oh good. I was looking for some light reading material,” Ellie quips from her spot on the couch.  

“It’s a dictionary,” you explain, “so you’ll quit cheating at Boggle.”

“You're in trouble now,” Joel laughs. 

“I don’t cheat. I just know more words than you guys,” she says. 

“Dentment is not a word,” you reply. 

“Neither is thoard,” Joel says. 

“Sure it is. I’m about to thoard the two of you in this game,” she says.

This should be enough. A winter day by the fire. The simple joy of a board game. Laughter. This is practically a normal life. 

But each time Joel’s eyes fall on you, there’s a pang in his chest. You’re just close enough that he could reach out and touch you but he won’t. He can’t.  

When the sun sets, Ellie retreats to her room. Eventually, you fall asleep on the couch, wrapped up in a quilt as the fire dies down. You look even younger, curled up serenely. There’s no worry on your brow. Usually your face is in a perpetual frown even when you’re not in a mood.   

The snow is already knee deep with no signs of slowing. There’s no sense in sending you back out there. 

Joel scoops you up as gently as he can. He feels his age, back straining, but he doesn’t mind. He enjoys how you nestle your face into his chest as he mounts the stairs, warm and snug in his arms. A smile pulls at his lips. 

He sets you down carefully on his bed and you whimper groggily at the loss of his touch. Your eyes crack open. 

“Snowing pretty bad. Sleep here. I’ll be on the couch,��� he whispers. 

“Stay,” you murmur. 

He hesitates. Carrying you to bed was already crossing a line. He’s not worried about keeping his hands to himself. He’s been able to control himself for this long. If he lays down next to you, feeling you warming his sheets, smelling the peppermint soap on your skin, he’ll be so far gone for you, there’ll be no coming back. 

But denying you this simple request feels cruel. He imagines you waking up here all alone. You’re half asleep but what if you remember asking him to remain only to be abandoned again?  

He gets into bed, still fully clothed and careful to stay on his side. His jaw is clenched so tightly his teeth hurt. You give a satisfied hum and sink back into sleep, your body melting into the mattress. 

Joel watches you for a moment, fights the urge to put a kiss on your forehead. He crosses his arms and stares at the ceiling, beginning to tangle with the web of emotions that accompany you. Once it gets too confusing, he drifts off as well. 

When you reach out for him in your sleep, he can’t deny you. Joel tries his hardest to pretend it doesn’t feel good, that this isn’t something he’s wanted to do. So he imagines the nightmares that come to you. Reminds himself that you wouldn’t have seen any of that shit if he hadn’t left you for dead. Now that you're in his arms, he’ll make sure nothing touches you ever again. The least he can do is hold you and make sure it goes no further. 

You both find reasons that you should stay the night. Neither of you acknowledge it. Joel just hands you one of his t-shirts and busies himself as you slip out of your clothes and get under the covers. It’s all rather innocent, Joel does more than rub your back even though you sometimes feel his morning wood through his sweatpants. If he wants you, he doesn’t let himself have you. And he could. 

It’s fine with you if cuddling is all this is. You don’t try to do anything more than that, unwilling to upset the unspoken agreement between you. You can be satisfied with a broad, firm chest to rest your back against. Sleep is better beside him, his heart beats guiding your own. The weight of his arm draped across you makes your body feel deliciously heavy.  

After a while, though, it happens. 

Joel’s having a nightmare. His murmurs and restless movements wake you. His mouth twitches and his brow is creased. You smooth circles into his shoulder until his eyes open. Even in the darkness you can see the despair in them. 

He blinks, coming back to reality, remembering he’s not wherever his dreams took him. You brush your fingers through his hair, gazing at one another as his breaths even out. Normally, his age is obvious– the lines in his forehead, the sun spots on his cheek– yet right now he looks young. Like a boy that needs to sleep with a night light. 

You’re not sure who initiates but you find each other in the dark. At first he’s not kissing you at all, his lips are just brushing your cheek or your nose. It’s sweet and gentle. You try to hold in a moan, worried that any noise might shatter this moment. 

The kisses are timid as if you’re both waiting for someone to stop this. Joel lets out a shuddering breath against you. This is a bad idea, you’re both thinking it. After you kissed him the last time, he held you at arms length. When this blows up, you’ll lose him entirely. But you need to be closer to him. 

You open your mouth to him, tangle your legs between his. His hand slides under your shirt, roaming your bare skin. You thought that snuggling under the blanket was enough but now you realize just how hungry you’ve been to be touched. Really touched. He needs it too. Joel leans into your hand on his jaw with a whimper. 

You don’t open your eyes. You might be the one dreaming and you don’t want to wake up. 

It’s quiet, just the sound of hot breaths and desperate kisses, the swish of the sheets as you shift your hips to meet his. You keep yourself from rocking against him, try to enjoy the feeling of him without crossing yet another line, but you’re aching. His shirt has ridden up so you feel the softness of his middle, the light hairs on his chest. Your fingers intertwine with his as his mouth trails down the column of your neck and. Joel buries his face there. 

“I’m sorry,” he breathes. 

You’re not sure what he’s apologizing for. This? Then? The years in between? None of it matters because you want to live in this moment forever. 

You shush him, pull him back to your mouth. You’re ready to lose yourself, to forget, to ignore the storm of thoughts constantly plaguing your mind. This is all you want. 

You peel off your clothing, helping him slide out of his sweatpants until there’s nothing between you. Joel’s skin is warm and soft against you and you realize you’ve never been this close to another soul. 

When Joel settles over you and you feel him throbbing between his legs, you shiver with nervous anticipation. You expect him to say something, to warn you that this is a bad idea, to promise this won’t change anything. But his brown eyes look as confused with need as you feel. There’s no room for thinking or it will crush this fragile moment like glass. 

You tilt your hips to allow him in, already slick from being so close to him. 

Slowly, he enters you, kissing you all the while. He makes a choked sound, wincing as his body stills. The noise makes you clench around him. 

Together you take a moment to get your bearings and you adjust to the fullness of him. Joel’s eyes are pressed shut, his teeth digging into his bottom lip. 

Before he begins to move, his thumb finds your clit, grazing it lightly. After years of solitude and now months being just out of reach of him, the sensation makes you gasp sharply. 

You’ve had sex a handful of times. They had been more about fulfilling a self destructive urge than a desire for pleasure. It’s never been like this. 

You start to lose sense of everything but the feelings of your body. Your core tenses and your breaths go short and you start to forget that it’s Joel whose hips are stuttering into you. It’s as if this euphoria can erase some of those awful memories. 

Soon you’re shattering beneath him, a crescendo that has you tugging on his hair and gasping for air. Joel grunts into your ear. He follows after you, hissing as he pulls out of you. He pulses into his hand, his release dripping from his fist onto your sweat damp skin. Then he collapses onto you. You run your fingers through his long curls and he kisses your forehead. There might be tears in your eyes– maybe his too. It’s too dark to be sure– but when his breath evens out, it still sounds ragged against you.

Eventually he gets out of bed and leaves the room and, in that moment, you can feel everything hanging over your head again– what you’ve just done, the horrors of the world. Perhaps even more intense than before. 

But Joel returns quickly. He flicks on the light on his bed side table and cleans you with a damp rag. His touch is gentle, reverent, and his dark eyes travel over your naked skin to yours. There’s a question in them, guilt, but you have no regrets. You smooth your hand out on the sheets beside you and he lays back on his pillow. He surrounds you with his massive arms and you fall asleep grateful that you don’t feel abandoned anymore.

You worry that it was just a one time thing, try to accept that it might never happen again. But the next time you share Joel’s bed, he’s pulling you into him, pressing kisses into your shoulder, nuzzling at the spot behind your ear. His hard length prods at the small of your back. 

It starts like that every time. Intimate, sensual, quiet. It’s never tearing his clothes off or pushing you up against a wall. You just stay close, breath each other in, trail fingertips across skin. Neither of you ever speak above a whisper.  

Joel barely talks at all except to ask, “That too much?” and “Feel good?” 

You live for the moments when his hand skates over your hip, his dark eyes soft. 

“Pretty,” he says almost to himself. 

He’s such a beautiful man. Your fingers trace the smooth plane of his chest, dusted lightly with hair and a few stray freckles. Age has only improved him. The greys in his stubble catch the glow from the lamp on the nightstand. You study him with the same attention to detail you used in your youth. The cleft in his bottom lip, the dimples on his lower back, the scar on his temple. You’ve memorized it all. 

Joel breaks open for you. He lets you see him vulnerable. He’ll fuck you with thrusts that shake loose deep emotions. Just as quickly, he’ll hold you together when it feels like you’re falling apart. 

You lay with him after, sticky with the shared heat of your bodies but reluctant to roll away and break the connection. 

Whatever this is, you don’t speak its name. There are too many questions and conflicts that it might not withstand. It exists only for you and him. A safe haven in the chaos, a bit of respite at the end of long years. 

In his arms, you’re not his dead daughter’s best friend. He’s not the man that left you when you needed him most. You’re just two people that need to not be alone. Each time, it’s the same. The overwhelming bliss of Joel making love to you is second only to the understanding that he’s finally come back for you. 

Thanks for reading! I'd love to hear from you. Comments and reblogs always appreciated.

[jgracie]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ the way they love in which i share some little things about being in a relationship with the hoo boys

masterlist | rules

warnings none!

percy ⊹ embarrassing yourself so the other isnt embarrassed alone. making sure you aren't overworking yourself. being compared to an old married couple. drawing on the other's schoolbooks when they aren't looking. everyone can see it but the two of you. insisting whatever he baked is good even though its burnt and probably bad for you. always buying two of everything. endearing nicknames. spending more time at his place than your own. getting random “i thought of you” texts followed by an image only the two of you would understand.

jason ⊹ tucking you in bed after a long night. memorising your skincare routine to a t just in case theres a day youre too lazy to do it. lovingly teaching you concepts you dont understand. whispered confessions late at night. promise rings. spraying your perfume on his things so he can have something to comfort him when he misses you. scrapbooks of your lives as teens for your kids to flip through when you're older. asking him to sleep in just one more hour. painting your nails his favourite colour. princess treatment.

leo ⊹ taking care of the other when theyre ill and getting yourself sick in the process. keeping a mental note of all your likes and dislikes. acts of service acts of service acts of service. making random little gadgets just for the sake of making the other's life the tiniest bit easier. dancing 'round the kitchen in the refrigerator light. carving your initials with a heart around them on the trunk of a tree. spam texts. warm, feel good hugs. learning how to make dishes from your culture to remind you of home. messages in morse code.

frank ⊹ trusting the other more than you trust yourself. putting things on the top shelf just so he has an excuse to help you (and flaunt his height). mornings always spent together. giving the other the bigger half of whatever you're sharing. lighthearted competition. being proud of each other no matter what. physical touch. making eye contact from across a packed room. doing your hair better than you ever could. having movie marathons every night. knowing if you prefer gold or silver. watching all 146 tiktoks you send him in the span of an hour.

travis ⊹ incorporating the other's favourite music into your own playlists, no matter how different their taste is. shamelessly calling you "the wife". pictures of you in his wallet. pictures of you on his phone. pictures of you everywhere. arm tightly wrapped around your waist. piggyback rides. sleepovers. drawing constellations out of his freckles. your personal photographer and videographer. having his proposal planned from the age of 14. partners in crime. sweater weather by the neighbourhood.

[yenqa]

ADVANTAGES

in which…

on jay’s live, fans point out a stuffed animal on his bed, one that seems to be the other piece to your notorious missing pair. as imaginary pieces start to connect for fans, the viewers beg for some kind of interaction. and though you and jay have never met before, why not use this situation to your advantage?

warnings : crying, panic attacks, depression is depicted but isnt really said, lots of bad self talk, food/eating, having no appetite, just lots of bad mental health talk and depictions, hurt/comfort, god this chapter is PACKED

wc: 1829

i’m sorry that i couldnt be your teenage dream.

not proofread!

☆

It had been a week and a half since you had seen anyone.

Well other than the cashiers at the local grocery store but that made you look even more pathetic. 

You haven’t been well, at all.

It was a horrible sight, honestly you couldn’t even look at yourself in the mirror without cringy. You had no productivity and had planned to do nothing for as long as possible. 

You were surprised your body hasn't exploded yet, since all you had ate was instant ramen or the three meals you could cook total. 

Today was one of the worse-r days. Three hours into the new day but your mind couldn’t seem to sleep one bit.

You had zero appetite, your room was a mess, it was worse that you couldn’t even sleep away the days even though you were so tired. Your eyes were glued shut at night but your body couldn’t stop fighting the feeling of sleep. 

So here you were, eye bags almost able to give the color purple a run for its money, and so puffy it felt like a balloon was stuck in there. But your eyes hadn’t shed any tears, instead you felt like nothing. Like you were just floating around with no purpose or any feeling at all.

The empty feeling in your head made you unable to do anything but scroll on your phone, letting hours after hours pass by rewatching your favorite show at least a billion times. It seemed like the world had gone gray, like the world was ending and you were the only one feeling it.

A part of you screamed at yourself to get a grip, to stop being so dramatic and realize there are still good things in life. 

You tried to get better, you really did. You had researched on how to get over this drought but you never could. So every night you would lay in your bed, trying to figure out what was wrong with you.

Mornings have always been your least favorite part of the day. But it seemed to get worse with every second that passed. 

Realizing you still had a whole day ahead of you seemed utterly impossible to finish, but still you would reach your hand out to the finish line, only to miss every time.

You had six hours until it was the appropriate time to wake up. You couldn’t call anyone for help, you couldn’t text anyone in the middle of the night. It was your burden, so you had to keep it to yourself and hope and pray it washes away over time.

Your phone has been your only sense of livelihood during your dull days. If you had been wasting hours after hours at least you had been doing something. 

Before you could think of the consequences, you had thought of searching yourself on the internet, just for fun. You clicked on the first source, hoping that someone would see your side of the story.

No it was not fun–you wish you could warn yourself because the title of the article read; “All you need to know about Y/niora and why she’s trending”

We’ve all seen the names “Y/n” or “Y/niora” trending on X, who is she? Some might wonder. In this article I’ll be going over everything she’s done wrong, and why fans hate her for it.

Y/n is a popular streamer on twitch, known for her funny commentary and her boyfriend Jay, but recently she’s shown a darker side to her.

Her boyfriend, Jay, is also a twitch streamer, a much more popular one at that. He’s known for his good looks and his random reactions that have us crying with laughter, but why would he date a nobody like her? 

If you’ve seen Y/niora’s X account, you can see that she posts provocative photos of herself, things that only lead to temptations of male fans. Fans speculate this is the reason they met, saying that she seduced him and used him for money, fame, and views.

If you know anything about streaming, you know BlueJay and his friends. Who stole the internet's hearts with their looks and cute personalities. But things start picking up between Jay and Y/n when she posts their matching stuffed animals, officially presenting their relationship to the world.

This seems to be a bad move on Y/n’s part, as her facade starts slipping through and we get to see her for the calloused person she is. 

She continuously shows her disinterest in anything he’s saying. Making him repeat everything he’s said to her. This strikes up the question, does she really care about him or her fans?

Arguments of this exact topic have been trending among fans, some saying

You closed your phone before you could read anything else. Flipping your body over you could feel tears start to form in your eyes, your vision goes blurry and your breath starts hiccuping. 

Wiping your wet cheeks, you start to panic when you feel like your throat is closing up, placing your hand on your chest to try to calm yourself down. 

That clearly doesn’t work. As you swear you can feel the walls closing in beside you. In a last effort to stop your ugly sobs, you open your phone once more, your breath quickens when you open the phone app, calling the person that you need the most right now.

The ringing on your phone shakes you more, “Please answer, please answer, please answer.” You croak out desperately, glancing at your window to realize it’s the middle of the night, and he’s probably getting the nice sleep he deserves. 

Unlike you who only makes things worse, and can’t even get a wink of sleep at night.

You sob harder after the fifth ring, realizing that he’s not going to answer. And you have to do this on your own–

“Y/n? Are you okay?” His voice brings relief to your ears, that’s until you realize the state you’re in. 

“Jay I’m so–so so sorry for calling you this late.” You rasp out, “I just don’t know what’s wrong with me, I can’t stop shaking and crying, I just–fuck” Bringing your hand up, you grab a fist of your hair, not knowing what to do or say.

“Are you at home?”

“Yeah, I am.” You choke through, words barely coherent.

“I’m coming. Stay there, okay?”

“Okay.” 

His tone is so soft it scares you. How could he be talking to you so sweetly knowing the mess you made? How could he be talking to you so sweetly knowing that you are burdening him at such a late hour?

Your throat tries its best to keep your hammering heart inside your chest, but it closes up, your breath is so uneven you're not even sure you’re breathing at all. 

That is until you let out a soft apology into your phone, but it’s covered by your staggered breathing, and the sound of you stuffing up your snot back into your nose.

The silence coming from him is apparently meant to drive you insane. Because the nausea of it all starts to get to you, your condition is crippling so you can’t even move from your curled up position on your bed.

You can hear your door slam open, eliciting a strong flinch from you. 

Your heart seems to be racing too fast for your liking, almost like it’s fighting to get out of your chest. “Jay?” You mutter, as you can see his dark silhouette standing through the doorway. 

Before you can actually decipher if the man is actually Jay or just some random burglar who found your spare key, you feel his arms wrap around your body, tucking your head into the space between his neck and shoulder. 

You conclude that it’s Jay’s warmth you’re feeling right now.

For a second you feel safe, for a second you feel like he’s just hugging you, not because you are literally having a panic attack. 

That snaps you back into reality. God were you really having a panic attack over an article? That you chose to read? 

Feeling your chest tighten and your eyes water up, you tuck your head impossibly deeper, letting your tears and snot get all over his shirt. 

It’s grossing you out how you can physically feel his shirt dampen with your tears, but you’re too focused on figuring out how to breathe rather than the mess you made on his shirt.

“You can let it out, or you can just cry, I don’t mind.”

You sob even harder than you were before.

He’s so warm. He’s so warm. And you have no idea why it’s the perfect descriptor for him. 

“Jay,” You mutter, being muffled by his shoulder, “I’ve ruined everything.”

His arm rubs your back gently, “You haven’t ruined anything, pretty.” He whispers, talking like if he speaks any louder you’ll crack into hundreds of pieces (you actually might but that’s not the point).

“I have! You can’t even deny it without lying,” You hiccup, “I mean—I’m trying so hard, but I can’t do anything right.” You pull your head back to look up at him.

He stays silent, letting his hand cup your face, wiping away any tears that fall down.

“And I’m so tired. I’m so tired of doing everything I can but still being hated for not doing enough. I mean who wouldn’t? I can’t even cook a proper meal, it just goes to show how hopeless I am.”

“Y/n you can’t possibly think about yourself.”

“I can because it’s the truth.”

He tucks your head back into his shoulder, “Y/n, not being able to cook a proper meal is okay. Some people never learn how to cook an egg.”

Your breathing calms down slightly, you let out a small chuckle, trying to stay forever in his warmth.

“I’m sorry for calling you here so late, I know you’re tired from streaming or something.”

“I could never stay away from you for too long, even if it’s in the middle of the night.”

Letting out a breathy smile, you look back at his face, a small smile spreads through his face looking at you.

Your eyes were tired, for the first time in a week your body was tired. “I’m going to go to sleep. Thank you, Jay, seriously.”

He gets up from your position, you feel the absence of his warmth even though he just got up, he’s about to walk out the door when you build up the courage to ask, “Can you stay? Just for tonight?”

Looking back, there's a smile on his face as he replies “Always.”

Walking back to you, he lays himself under your blanket, tucking you in before wrapping his arm around you, he pulls you into his chest.

And for the first time in what felt like forever. You fall asleep, in Jay’s arms.

☆

back masterlist next

yenqa > um title is reference to teenage dream by olivia rodrigo! umm hope u enjoyed while i ripped my heart out and put it in my writing… thanks!

taglist (CLOSED): @yeokii @hanniluvi @euncsace @jongsiemain @mrchweeee @fakeuwus @ashy1um @rikisly @filmofhybe @nwjws @yizhoutv @soov @tocupid @tzke1ta @yannew @manooffline @mars101 @haechansbbg @enhaz1 @teddywonss @en-happiness @kim2005bomi @be0mlvr @luvswonyoung @flwoie @lilriswife4life @nicholasluvbot @ikeusol @lylovw @alwayswook @astrae4 @choi-beomgyulvr @aishigrey @infpistj @jiawji @planethyuka @mari-oclock @222brainrot @jakevascaino @rory-cant-sleep @hyehae @vixensss @hearts4hanni @kgneptun @tongtongie @www-jungwon @lovejunz @fluerz @jiyeons-closet @nyuzip @leehanist @heerinnie @eneiyri

yenqa © please do not copy, steal or translate.

[linkedin-offficial]

local full time technician gets alot more than she bargained for, more at 8

some stuff for dragons in my flight rising lore! sirko runs a circus on the outskirts of hyrule, and pipimi unfortunately gets wrapped up in the places hijinks after being hired by them to be a full time technician.

more details under the cut!

like stated previously, sirko is the ringleader of a circus called "the sensational sunset circus", popular for its sunset aesthetic and plethora of attractions. pipimi was attracted to this job offer because she was looking for an excuse to get away and leave her old life behind. so, she applied, and the moment she arrived, she was adorned with compliments and attention. to her suprise, she was the only new hire theyve had in years. and the longer she stays, shes grows quite certain she knows exactly why.

(and yes, the tadc parallels are apparent .. oops 😭 my brain loves to unconsciously attach my hyperfixations to eachother)

all of the members of this circus are very different and have quite striking personalities. the current list of the living (excluding sirko and pipimi) is as follows :

mowbray - (he/him ; sibling and right hand man to sirko) a fairly lax individual most of the time. one of the few of them with a braincell. can usually tolerate most things but can very easily snap if you bother him enough. friends with pipimi solely because they both are somewhat smart enough to not go insane immediately.

holiday - (she/her ; makeup artist and costume designer) fairly laid back and super duper chill, and easily one of the sweeter members of the circus. she doesnt hesitate to bring others up in mood and try to help where she can.

she has a .. "special connection" with pipimi, letting her call her 'holly', and visiting her often. she says its just because of how often her clothes tear, but most of the other members speculate other .. interesting reasons.

jaxton - (he/him ; That asshole) probably the one guy who most likely wouldnt lay down his life for pipimi. he constantly bullies her, teasing her at every chance he gets.

when he isnt messing with her though, hes trying out new tricks to impress the locals and maybe scam some out of their money. hes tried countless times to help his fellow coworker iskam try and become better at her scam artistry, but iskam certainly isnt smart enough for his precious arts. what a shame.

iskam - (she/he/they ; "future seer" vendor) a particularly clueless individual, he enjoys trying his hardest to predict others futures, genuinely believing hes right when in reality, she just makes things up. the money is just a bonus to her endeavors. couldn't count to 100 if you asked.

on the plus side, they like the company of pipimi, mostly because she tries really hard not to hurt others feelings. pipimi knows iskam is wrong, but wont say it.

pakwan - (she/they ; resident dumpster fish) somehow more clueless than iskam, but still just as cheerful. she enjoys a melon snack more than anything in the world. well, not really. she enjoys pipimi's company more than anything else, and often accidentally splashes her with water with excitement when pip comes by.

she loves doing tricks, especially for pipimi. pipimi loves to listen to pakwan ramble about her day. in a sort of mutual peace of mind, kinda way.

mang - (he/it ; horrible little rat bastard thief) being small and cunning has its advantages, and mang uses them well. known to be the local thief of the circus, it takes every opportunity he can to sneak about and steal anything he can fit into his pockets. if you can get on his good side however, youll never lose another key again. because of this, it quite likes pipimi.

halimaw - (he/they ; the beast of the basement) dangerous and cunning. halimaw is sly with his words but bumbly and outrageous at the same time. large and un-anxious, he wont hesitate to bite your head off if you refuse to listen to him. gets what he wants, and when he doesnt, he takes by force. these are primarily reasons why he was locked down there. better safe than sorry.

saya - (she/her ; sister to holiday and ex-partner to halimaw) very reserved and almost acts as a mediator. she values her dance skills VERY seriously and considers dance the ultimate art, much to her sisters dismay. they dont fight about it however, and they are quite close.

anyway, thats it for now!

ill probably be talking about these 10 sometime in the future but for now have this !! i love thinking about them and they mean alot to me <3 circus freaks

[headspace-hotel]

a friend of mine said that the environment would be better if everyone lived in cities and basically left the rest of the natural world alone... i felt like there was something wrong with that argument but i really dont know enough about it to have a real point against it. i might be biased though cause i love being around nature and want to be able to live rural without killing the environment? idk im just wondering if she's right and how to live in a way that isnt negatively impacting the world

love your blog btw, it's been the thing that's helped me understand ecology for once

the idea that humans Are Bad for the ecosystem—not that particular activities or practices have particular negative effects, that just humans existing harms the environment—is in fact the worst idea ever

I mean, first of all, where does your friend think food comes from?

"Food" is one of the problems. It's one of a lot of problems. Some other problems include "all other natural resources besides food" and "human rights."

It's not just your friend, this kind of thing has been suggested in varying ways by self identified "leftists" a bunch of times, and I genuinely hope they're mostly random laypeople who can't really be expected to know more than they can learn from being terminally addicted to Twitter, because otherwise I will call them "dumber than a sack of hammers" in those exact words.

No offense to your friend. Your friend is a laypeople. And sadly, non-experts end up with ass-backwards ideas about how conserving the environment works, because of all this commonplace nonsense about humans being a cancer upon the planet. I'm not angry about those people, just sad.

But my serious answer is—The world's most intact and best managed ecosystems are found on land owned and managed by Indigenous people, who do what with the land?

LIVE ON IT.

And these groups of people learned to manage and care for the land how?

BY LIVING ON IT.

Conventional (white, Western) intuition holds that human management of an ecosystem should reduce biodiversity, but what science shows—I mean what study and observation and data and more study and more observation and more data shows—is that indigenous land management practices can do better than Nature can on her own.

I mean, for one thing, if you don't live in a place, you don't observe it every day. You don't see how the ecosystem and its inhabitants change over time. You can't learn about it, and therefore you don't know about it.

Disconnection from nature is ignorance about nature and ultimately apathy towards nature, and that's the worst and most disrespectful thing we can do.

And like I hope it's clear that even in the imaginary scenario where everyone lives in a city, even if this was possible (it's not), the city dwellers who are separate from nature are living a silly little lie. You're part of the ecosystem. Don't like it? Go become a rock in space.

The electrical signals moving through your brain right now are rays of sunlight that were soaked up by a plant that grew in dirt. Do you know fruit? Do you enjoy fruit? I enjoy fruit, I'm drinking a smoothie right now! That fruit y'all love so much was pollinated by a bug.

A bug did that for you! Because you're family! Because you're part of this world, because you belong to this intricate and ancient community of living things that need each other, that were shaped by evolution to need each other, and nature cannot abandon you.

But more on the cynical side of things, even if you don't know where the hell a berry grows or how, someone has to grow and harvest and ship that berry to you, someone who has to live somewhere, and you should care who is doing it and how they're being treated and paid, and ultimately you should want for them the same things you want for you.

Urban life is just rural life with extra steps my friend.

Like, @ all the "put everybody in cities" crowd, what is the plan here? Fancy ass indoor aquaponics systems notwithstanding, we're not technologically at a point where we can just, like, build giant multi-story factory buildings where we grow food under special lamps, and even being at that point wouldn't make it a good idea. With all the hype about solar power, you'd think people would look at plants (have been using solar power just fine for like a billion years) and think, "Neat how those things can just make food when you stick 'em in the sunshine."

I'm sorry, I'm never going to be psyched about technological innovations that are like "We took a plant and put it inside."

There is so much I could say here. The brainrot in the wake of "cottagecore" discourse where a bunch of well meaning white people got convinced that farming was racist. The idea that rural people are somehow more complicit in colonialism than urban people, and that rural land is, I don't know, landier than urban land, and the correct and moral thing to do if you live on stolen land is to....what? Live on land that has a protective layer of concrete in between it and your racist feet?

Land ownership is a whole fucked up beast, but you're not cultivating a non-exploitative relationship with land by living in a city. There's just extra steps in between you and the land.

"Homesteading" as seen on cottagecore boards on Pinterest has a lot of white supremacist wet dream mixed in, but listen: It is not only okay, but GOOD, to want to live in close relationship with the land, with the food you eat, with the trees and plants that fill your lungs when you inhale. It's IMPORTANT. It's VITAL.

What has to change is that this relationship can't be based on ownership and dominance. Ecosystem is community and that ain't it.

My ancestors were colonizers, the land I live on right now was violently stolen, the ecosystem that once was very carefully managed so that it flourished with life was ravaged, and I don't even know the names of most of the life-forms that ought to be here. What now?

You belong to the ecosystem that takes care of you. You can't wash your hands of this and run away.

I feel like I'm getting off topic, but it's very much on topic actually. What I hope for the future is that we would stop entertaining the silly little lies that imagine we can just...opt out of participation in something that is underneath our every footstep and in our every breath. It would make us feel pure, but it wouldn't be real.

I do think that forcing people off the land that is their home is bad, in general. I don't think those people have to be indigenous for this to be bad—and successfully claiming otherwise is a bit of conundrum, since as far as I know, the political and social phenomenon of indigenous identity has a lot to do with the being forced off your land thing.

Obviously people like me don't have the same deeply central cultural relationship to the land, but the "we should all just go live in cities and leave nature to itself" proposal implies that such relationships are unnecessary or even bad.

I've said this before but I find it weird when environmentalists accommodate indigenous ways of life in their visions of the ideal future as like...a special exception granted because it's like, the nice thing to do for a historically marginalized and violently oppressed group. Not because there is value or merit in those ways of life. Like "Oh I guess indigenous people should be allowed to hunt because it's part of their culture" ????? And it's part of their culture because...why?

Maybe because it's a sustainable way of doing things and has been for millennia???

Like don't listen to me, look at the research, indigenous folks participating in ecosystems and managing them worldwide know what they're doing and the rest of the world should be looking to them as examples. Key word here is participating, because you can't competently manage an ecosystem with your head all the way up your ass with the idea that you're somehow not part of it.

Humans aren't a cancer upon the planet. It's capitalism and colonialism. It's the practice of seeing the world as a disposable resource to be exploited.

Humans lived in the place I called home for 15,000 years. Within the past 200 years, almost every forest was razed to the ground, and almost every large animal extirpated or damn near to it.

"Humans" did that! These humans are so terrible!

But I have to remember.

There are descriptions of this place from before that, and they describe a lush, teeming heaven-like paradise that the adjectives provided by English trembled to capture, so perfect and bountiful that the observers assumed this land was never tainted by Adam's sin.

Humans did that, too.

[ganondoodle]

so, doing this as an extra post bc i dont want to spam op nor invite more disaster into their post (sorry)

(i get annoyed, i get frustrated, but i rarely get pissed off, so if this sounds aggressive to you, it is; i have had enough of arguing with people -even if most of that arguing has happened on twitter-)

someone had replied (and later apparently deleted) something along the lines of "well zelda wanted to restore hyrule at the end of botw and what is so bad about ganondorf always being the bad guy in the way that he is?"

so first off, while i know hyrule and KINGDOM of hyrule is often used as an equally interchangeable word to refer to the world there, i dont think she meant the kingdom or its or its monarchy when she said that (does she? i dont have the end in my head rn and pretty sure its a lil different than english anyway) and much more the LAND of hyrule, its still in shambles even if people have found ways to live with it- that is an interpretation of me mostly, you can think what you want in that regard idc

secondly .... im not gonna get into that rant bc you cannot be seriosuly asking what is bad about how ganondorf is presented, treated in the games (espeically in totk) and his role and "writing" (oh geez i dont know maybe all the racism and stereotypes?? also, frankly boring ass writing, if your villain can be replaced by a cloud of toxic goo incapable of speech and nothing would change except saving money for voice actors that dont fit the role that is not a great look- hes never gotten much but totk is a new low)

then theres this reply

astro-shark3113 replied: "You're kidding right? If she cared about reinstating the monarchy then why is the castle still in disrepair after five years? Why does she become a teacher and live in a cottage with her boyfriend instead of taking on duties as princess? She clearly wants to help people and be a leader but she can do that without wanting to be a Queen. Please be real"

i am not kidding and i AM being real, i think you need to look at the game without your rose tinted glasses for a second; the castle is still in ruin? what the hell do you expect, theres no soldiers and very few servants left, repairing anything is quite impossible in that time and frankly not a priority (not proof of her not caring lol) also there is a plan for it at the very least given the camps with the hyrule crest all over it in the ruins of castle town- we dont SEE her as a teacher, or living a "normal" life, that happens in between the game, its flavor text, what HAPPENS in the game is her being taught a lessson on who she needs to be and what hyrule needs to be (pretty in your face too, she gets sent to paradise past of the "first" king that is some supposedly godly thing from the HEAVENS and watches him and his queen die at the hands of the eviiil guy, the last scene in the game mimics perfectly the scene where everyone that god king got under his rule swears undying loyalty to her ffs); she does live in that house, but what other option is there, set up camp in the collapsing throne room all alone?? nigh everyone from that time is long dead and the only one she actually knows is link who happens to have a house (bc impa doesnt care i guess idk), with her ""boyfriend"" is also interesting, a "boyfriend" that apparently is locked in the basement, lives in the woods or straight up dematerlializes when theres no big bad in need of stabbing bc why the hell does no one fucking know him in hateno??? not even the kids that come to the house EVERY SINGLE DAY?? and taking on duties as a princess, she very much does? just bc she doesnt get physically carried around in a castle doesnt mean she isnt doing royal stuff (also, again, that happens BETWEEN the games, not actually in totk), she still sees herself as the princess, everyone calls her that, she herself calls herself that (if the memorial stones are anything to go by) and everyone listens to the most overtly stupid and nonsensical stuff that zelda puppet says (even her friends follow that order without even asking back???) after over 100 years of there not being a kingdom as such its pretty weird how everyone immediately, even the ones not alive for the calamity event, snaps into blindly following her orders

"she can still lead without being a queen", did we play the same game?? totk? TEARS of the KINGDOM?? (its zeldas tears, she IS the kingdom) that game?? the game couldnt be more directly telling you that its whole point is that royal family holy and good and how much everyone has to sacrifice to uphold the holy kingdom bc its the only thing that keeps evil man from overtaking it!! including turnign herself into a farmable, glorified stone pedestal for the entirety of the actual game and then that sacrifice not meanign shit bc she just gets deus ex machina'd back (i didnt need her to stay a dragon, though it would have been the better choice if she still didnt get an active part in the game i would kill for her to have been a capable companion instead of the stupid ghost sages, and you dont even get to actually do anything for it, it just happens), not even the nuclear pebble is lost, how great! she and everyone else that is a leader of their people has a nuclear pebble now!! they will not let a bad evil man be a threat ever again!! like the point to bring her back in that utterly unsatisfying way is that otherwise the royal line wouldnt exist anymore, its a blessing of her ancient ancestors!! woohooo!!

and the thing is, i LIKE botw zelda, i liked her character, that she wasnt the typically maiden princessy type, her struggle (even if i find the way she unlocked her powers lame), i do NOT like totk zelda, after the intro of the game she is a princessy maiden standing prettily at the side of the god king that rules the only thing keeping evil at bay, the level of how much totk disrespects her makes me mad on her behalf but i have ranted about that alone enough as well

and with this i am DONE talking about this game, i have ranted so much about it, made my points carefully clear over and over, said that i dont have the nerves left to be nice anymore about it given how much shit alone on twitter i had to live through just bc i dared mildly critisizing the damn game, if you comment some snarky "be real" thing again im just gonna go straight to blockign people bc i am done with this

[idontknowwhatimdoinglol]

100 followers special! Ty all so much <3

Yandere ceo hera x reader (headcanons)

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

you worked as an assistant to hera, you had gotten the job after a friend of yours was fired claiming that hera was a live version of devil wears prada. but you needed a job so you had applied anyway.

on your first day it was as you expected, hera hardly payed attention to you instead pawning you off on other workers to train you on what to do. as weeks went on though and you proved to be useful and a good worker hera began to talk to you more, it wasn't much just simple things or small complements if you did a good job which was rare from her.

even though she hardly payed attention to you when you weren't in her presence you couldn't help but notice her stares from across the room or through the glass walls of her office when she saw you talking to another worker at olympus co. especially if it was one of zeus's children that wasn't her own.

the longer you worked there the less people talked to you and the more hera talked to you. you noticed a few glances from others but they quickly looked away as soon as hera would go near you. she began sending you on more personal tasks like fittings for an outfit for the new charity gala shes hosting. after all her personal assistant cant just show up in poor clothing.

eventually when you get to work she doesn't even let you out of her office, she sets up your own little desk claiming its so that she doesn't have to go through the building looking for you if she needs you but truly its to keep you from others.

you would walk into work everyday with new gifts on your desk from expensive chocolates to cute jewelry (with purple diamonds of course), and just anything else to show that you are hers.

if however she catches you outside of her office talking to someone she has forbid you to talk to then you will no longer be able to do that. she is one of the richest people in the world with vacation homes around the world. and billions of dollars to pay off anyone who may come looking for you when she takes you.

she'll hide you off in one of her vacation homes on her private island so that theres no chance of you escaping when she isnt there. she gives you only the most luxurios things and food and has plenty of personally approved maids to help you and make sure you dont go mad being alone on an island.

hera comes to visit you every weekend and schedules a bunch of unamed buisness trips (or atleast thats what she tells everyone else) where she will visit you. the mansion that you are kept at has everything you could ever need so you wont ever try to escape. you also wont ever try to escape because of the cruel punishments promised if you do.

life with hera is quite lovely once you accept that youre never aloud to do anything without her knowledge. and maybe if youre lucky she may even let you back on the mainland, as long as you obey her alone.

- - - - - . o 0 O 0 o . - - - - -

[nijisanji-brain-rot-fics]

xsoleil boys x reader || wedding day

a/n: im bored as hell now guys 😭 im just gonna like post a bunch of headcanon stuff LOL i might post like fanfics, but thats a maybe wwww ALSO ALSO starting to reaaally like the later waves of niji, so ill prob focus on mainly xsoleil, noctyx, iluna, etc. ill dribble in some luxiem from time to time, but like the other waves need attention too 🙌 i might do some of the fem waves, but im not sure how to write those LOL

HEX HAYWIRE

bro this man's voice makes my brain go haywire

anyways uh

would definitely just be like very happy and stoic during yalls wedding

he'd treat you like his pretty princess/prince

anyways uhhh he would be that kind of romantic person to like take your hand and kiss it once you go to the front

oh my lord, im struggling to find his green flags when all i listen to from his asmrs are the yandere ones

UHM...... i mean like reception would be cute, like he'd dance with you

like beauty and the beast vibes ykkk

help im genuinely struggling w anything thats positive about marrying him 💀

DOPPIO DROPSCYTHE

AWWW HED BE SMILING AND LIKE EXCITED

LIKE HE WOULD BE WAITING FOR YOU EXCITEDLY AT THE FRONT

i feel like doppio would just be generally so excited and happy hes finally marrying the person he loves so much

he would fix his hair JUST FOR THIS

this is also the only event he will never be late to

oh god he would be so nervous when the ceremony actually starts

like hes worried he'll mess up his parts or someone will object

BUT it probably wont happen and itll be a great wedding!!

reception!doppio would be fucking lit

HE WOULD BE THE LIFE OF THE PARTY

he'd already be making dad jokes even if he isnt a dad yet

i swear, he would be kissing your forehead or cheek every few minutes

oh my goodness, drunk doppio would be so sweet

like i can just imagine him getting tipsy while like the maid of honor and the groomsman doing their little speech things and him getting really emotional

VER VERMILLION

honestly, i think he would cry at yalls wedding

like, he just screams 'emotionally fragile man on occasion'

the second he sees you in your wedding dress/suit/wtv, he'll start tearing up knowing that yall r gonna be married

and he loves you ya know

he'd hide the fact he was tearing up when you get to the front www

five bucks, doppio would be stifling his laughter when he sees ver crying

reception would be wholesome

ver would be whispering things to you while you guys dance

and not just random things

like i mean in korean

yeah his cute ass voice when he talks in korean

the voice where you want to keel over and throw up because it's really goddamn adorable and kind of attractive because people who speak more than one language is always somewhat attractive

tipsy ver is something to live for

it doesn't always happen but when it does its either hilarious as fuck or really cute and wholesome

like when he gets drunk, there's a 50% chance he starts to emote on the dance floor with an equally drunk doppio

or he could be holding your hand the whole time and staying by your side

a/n: WWWW im sorry i half assed hex's hcs LMAO i just genuinely cant see something that isnt overly explicit or kinky that wouldnt happen on ur wedding so thats why his is like the shortest lmao 💀 errhmm yeah, also ver is my #1 oshi thats why he has like the uh longest one LMAO UHHM yeah whatever lols have a good timezone

[letstripdotcom]

right where you left me- matt sturniolo

a/n- AHHHHH SOMETHING THAT ISNT SMUTT!! alsooo i’m changing up my look a lil bit

summary- upon the loss of your favorite person, your life changes completely. you change, your family changes, your every day life changes, but some things never change. your best friend, matt, has always been there and will always be there for you. no matter what

warnings- loss of a loved one

-

I, I swear you could hear a hair pin drop

Right when I felt the moment stop

Glass shattered on the white cloth

Everybody moved on

I, I stayed there

-

i sat in the dim lit restaurant with my best friends, nick matt and chris. we shared jokes and laughter as we enjoyed our meals. the busy room was filed with chatter from all around. people talking about whatever was going on in their own lives. work, kids, family, friends

i was mid conversation when my phone started ringing. it was my mom. “sorry guys one second, this is important.” my grandma has been battling cancer for the past few months so my mom calls me with updates as frequently as possible.

“hello” i answered the phone.

“hey sweetheart” my mom spoke on the other end.

“hey, how’s grandma today?” there was an abundant pause. “mom?” i broke the silence.

“i’m sorry y/n” her voice broke.

“mom what’s going on?”

“she’s gone.” my mom nearly whispered

the world seemed like it stopped moving at that moment. the boys stopped their conversation and looked at me with concerned looks. the cup that was once in my hand was now shattered on the table. tears started to fall from my eyes as the phone disconnected.

“she’s gone” i sobbed, making my way to the exit of the restaurant. nick and matt followed behind me, but chris stayed back to pay and take care of the mess. the moment didn’t feel real. i could hear my heart beating through my chest, my ears rang, and my head spun.

i sat on the bench outside of the restaurant, trying to breathe between sobs. my chest felt tight, like it was shrinking and i was going to run out of breath at any given moment. nick sat down next to me. “she’s never coming back” i cried. he wrapped himself around me, pulling me into a hug. i laid in his arms and cried.

“i know it hurts honey, i’ve got you” he whispered. “me matt and chris will always be here for you” he let out quiet sobs.

“i didn’t even say goodbye.” the more i thought about it, the more my heart broke. “i can’t do this without her nick, she was my everything”

and it was true, my grandma meant the word to me. she was the one person who was there for me every moment of my life until now.

my mom had me when she was only 16, and she couldn’t take care of me, so my grandma did. she raised me and gave me the best childhood ever. when i turned 14, i moved in with my mom, but i still constantly spent time with my grandma.

she gave me the best advice, no matter the situation. from when i was 6 and sad about not having friends at school, to 16 and crying about boys. she never judged me. every word she told me was perfect. i was never truly sad when she was around, because she always made it better.

“we’re gonna take you home with us.” matt spoke softly. “we don’t want you to be alone at a time like this.”

i nodded and stood up. i slowly made my way to the back seat of the car. nick got in the back seat next to me, and i laid my head on his shoulder and slept the whole ride home.

“hey we’re home” i felt a soft tap on my shoulder. i opened my eyes to see chris and matt. i got out of the car and chris hugged me. “sorry about the glass” i hugged him back.

“don’t worry about it kid, i love you and i’m so sorry for your loss.” his words didn’t feel real. ‘sorry for your loss’ she really is gone. i separated from chris.

“okay let’s get you inside” matt picked me up and carried me in like a little kid.

“thanks matt” i smiled at him. i’m beyond grateful for the triplets, and how they’re always there to support me. i got settled in on their couch and went to sleep, exhausted from today’s events.

•••••••••••••••••••••••

a/n- AHHH HOW DO WE FEEL?

i literally cried a little while writing thisss 😔

[pastanest]

if you’re wondering why I’m having to repost this, or why you were perhaps previously following me but no longer are, please refer to this post. I was able to retrieve this thanks to @dreatine - thanks so much!! ♡

Spencer Reid x gender neutral!reader

I know the gif is gendered but that doesnt relate to this headcannon I just love the gif and thought it was fitting for the vibe lol

Dating Spencer Reid Would Include

be prepared for one Flustered Boy™️ to begin with

- very nervous around you, stutters a lot, fumbles for his words and babbles more than ever about facts related to the human body’s response to love

- he’s very surprised when you continue to smile and giggle at his babbling, not seeming bothered by his awkwardness or general flustered state

- instead, you cup his face and kiss his nose or forehead, causing him to blush and smile more than ever

- you throw cheesy pickup lines at him at every opportunity you can,

- be prepared for one flustered boy just to make him laugh or blush

- nobody loves hugs as much as Doctor Spencer Reid. nobody. this is fact.

- after a long day he wants nothing more than to just hold you close to him, to remind him that you’re safe. once he’s in your arms, everything in his world is alright, and when his body relaxes in your arms it is one of the best feelings ever

- if a day has been particularly rough, he’ll all but fall into you, clutching onto you like his life depends on it, because in his mind, it does. you are his life, his entire world, and he would do anything for you

- once he’s more confident and comfortable, Spencer will become a big fan of subtle and sweet PDA, such as kissing your knuckles, temple, and forehead

- holding your hand is his favourite thing to do in public, no matter what scenario, it offers him comfort and joy like nothing else

- he loves swinging your hands between the two of you as you walk, or spinning you around to bring you closer to him

- you’ve never seen two FBI agents all geared up with their vests on and guns in hand, just staring at each other with love in their eyes and bright smiles on their faces as they swing their intertwined hands between them

- hugs from behind are present from both of you, with you kissing his back through his sweater and him kissing the top of your head

- Spencer loves dancing with you, anytime music is playing in your shared home he’ll appear in the doorway, already dancing and holding his hand out to you

“Ever since you said yes to being mine, I’ve got the constant urge to dance, will you dance with me?”

- slow dancing with Spencer is an experience like no other. sure, on occasion there’s stepping on toes because you’re both so clumsy, but for the most part it is just beautiful. some cheesy love song plays in the background as you sway together, Spencer’s head dipping close to your ear to whisper sweet words to you until you’re tearing up

- he’s so gentle with you, his fingers so light in your hair or on your skin you’re surprised you can feel them at all, but you can

- Spencer is very protective of you, even though he knows you can defend yourself, he isnt afraid of confronting anyone who causes you trouble, and if any harm comes to you as a result of someone else, Spencer isnt opposed to physically fighting to defend you

- nobody could ever adore you the way he does, he’s so open and honest in every sweet thing he says to you

- play! with! his! hair! you do it at every opportunity and he absolutely loves it, his eyes close and he lets out this big sigh and just melts into your touch, it’s enough to make your heart sing

- despite living and working together, he still finds ways to surprise you

- you’ll often arrive at work with him by your side and find a bouquet of flowers waiting at your desk that he had picked out himself and had delivered there

- he’ll plan out romantic evenings, building pillow forts, decorating a room in fairy lights, preparing a nice meal, or taking you out for a moonlight picnic

- and when you surprise him? the boy could cry. he’s never had anyone do such kind things for him, you offer him reassurance in everything you do, to the point where he cant deny that you love him, but he still wonders why you do

“I cant understand why someone as wonderful as you loves me.”

Spencer whispers to you as you cuddle inside the pillow fort you had built for him in your living room, fairy lights creating a soft glow against his face.

“How could I not love you? Spence, you are so ridiculously intelligent in everything you say, but you are completely clueless to how amazing you are as a person. I could listen to you babble about anything and everything for hours on end and I would never grow bored, because there is so much passion behind the things you say that facts I’d otherwise have no interest in suddenly become enthralling to me, because it’s you that’s telling me about them! You are kind, considerate, so much funnier than you give yourself credit for, and I love being around you. Also, you have a truly fantastic head of hair.”

Spencer chuckles at your last sentence, before pulling you into a passionate kiss.

- you have been known to just sit and let Spencer talk for hours on end, usually before falling asleep because his voice calms you so much. all wrapped up in his arms with your head on his chest, hearing his heartbeat in one ear and his interesting facts in the other

- he’s so interesting and he has no idea, so you do your best to remind him whenever you can

- when he rambles in front of the team he’ll always catch you smiling at him, you’re one of the only ones who is continuously pleasantly surprised and intrigued by everything Spencer knows, and when you give him a kiss on the cheek after hearing him babble, he’s more flustered than ever

- he’s finally found someone who enjoys his tangents, and he cant believe his luck

[azurlily]

Day 2 of 31 of the yandere month May challenge. This yandere is sadistic and has sadistic tendencies so DARK FUCKING THEMES.

Kirari forces you to marry her and you have a mental breakdown.(this is considered only angst because while it does imply that she cares for you after the breakdown, it isnt specifically talked about.)

Yandere!Kirari Momobami ANGST

How, just how did this happen? You were supposed to live out your life like any other person. Like any other average Joe, but no. No, you didn't get those privileges.

Not with her around. Kirari and you were somewhat good friends. She'd taken an interest in you after you wont in a gamble against her, you thought she'd leave you alone after she had her fun.

Of course, you were wrong. Instead Kirari watched, she watched from the shadows and looked into you. She wanted to know everything about her future wife/partner. She needed to know everything about you.

When she saw an opportunity to take you as her bride. She had seen your debt was rising, and you had become a house pet with no way to pay it back.

She took full advantage of this while she could, she played with you, and your feelings. Hot and cold, sweet and sour, soft and rough. Kirari wants to see all of you, not some facade, the real you.

While that may sound sweet, the main reason she wanted to see the real you was because she could manipulate you easier. It had been your last year of school and while Kirari and gotten you away from being a house pet every other year. This one was different.

I'd she helped you she couldn't make you a life plan. She couldn't make you hers. So she payed a few people to coerce you into a gamble and make you lose it all. You ran back to her and she told you that she wasn't going to save you this time.

You knew it was inevitable, but you didn't want to believe it. You tried, you tried everything but no one was willing to gamble you, or help you. You were stuck, stuck in a limbo of self pity, and hatred. You knew a life plan was possible, but you hope Kirari wouldn't do that to you.

Kirari called you into her office around the last month of school. She wanted to set the record straight. She could see you were pulling away from her, she was no idiot. She hated it though, hated that you didn't come and randomly visit her just so you could eat lunch together. Hated that you didn't beg her to go out with you to a park and just have a relaxing day.

She hated it all, she hated that you didn't rely on her anymore. She had(and does have) every intention to force you to fulfill her needs. Not necessarily sexual ones, but the ones that made her feel less lonely. She is human, no matter how much she wishes to deny it. She does need an anchor to tether her, and you, oh you, you're the perfect anchor.

Kirari had decided the blunt option was best, she had every intention to "make it up to you" later. That could wait though.

"Oh good, you're here. Oh, you're looking worse for wear. Are you okay, darling?"

She knew the answer, but seeing you helpless for her made things so much more fun. She loves the idea of seeing you cry.(in every way.)

She smiles as you look away, you know she knows. You just don't know she's the cause for it all. That's what that day was all about. She had everything planned out, an entire schedule ready. Kirari hoped you would take this well; emotions can be so messy.

"So, let's talk. I know about your debt, and I know you're unhappy I haven't paid it off...but I do have a reason for this. I want you to be my bride, and I'm not taking no as an answer. You may speak now."

That was it, that's all she needed to say. I mean, there is more to that story, but she'd prefer to tell you all that when you more prepared.

You stared at her for a moment, maybe two, or maybe even three. You wanted to hear the words "joke", you hoped she'd start laughing, but no. Instead you got her usual indifferent look.

You wanted to cry, I mean, that's fair. Right? You'd been through hell, the system here hurts people who have a debt, and you couldn't even pay it back. You were stuck, and she thought the best way to make you love her was...this?

Your first reaction is to cry, or maybe not. Maybe you try to hold in your tears, you try to not think about all the horrible things written on your desk, all the horrible things students have done to you. Guys in the school have forced you naked only to laugh at your body, girls were no different. They'd eight horrible things about you and spread rumors.

It was hell, your own personal hell. You broke down, you were crying and when Kirari tried to put her hand out. You slapped it. She didn't doesn't deserve to touch you. Instead she stood there, and watched, she knew what the students had done, it was a part of her plan after all.

Break you down, bit by bit. Make things easier for her. She would and has given the students hell for their misdeeds, and she intends to make things up to you. When your ready that it.

"I see you have no intention of calming down. While usually I'd leave you alone I'll be sitting at my desk until your breathing returns to normal. Apparently people tend to do...things in situations like these and I cant have that."

Essentially she's saying if you tried to off yourself, or hurt yourself. She'd be there to stop you. She knows she's the villain in your story, and your her so called victim. She loves it though, loves seeing you cry.

After about thirty minutes you had stopped crying. Now all you wanted to do was take a long, long, long nap. You started to doze off when you felt a cold hand on your face.

"Ah, look whose calmed down. Now, now, don't start those tears again. Oh, and you're crying...hm."

She moves down and gently kisses your lips. It was short and sweet, it would have been sweeter if not for the hand digging into your chin. She wanted you to know there is no escape.

She smiles, it looked gentle and somewhat kind, but you were no idiot. Maybe you were, just a bit. Although you could see right through her now. She let's go of your chin and you fall back.

"Maybe it is best to leave you in here. I'll be back with things to calm you down. For now though."

She walked to where the light switch was, turned it off. Leaving you in inky darkness, she closed and locked the door. She wanted to see how long you'd last before you came crying back to her. In need of comfort.

"I'll see you soon."

[the-s1lly-corner]

Prompts 22, 25, 27 and 28 with Jason

Skipping some prompts simply because I do not have ideas for them LMAO

MOVING IN TOGETHER

Moving in with Jason is really your only option. He does try to make the cabin more.. friendly for you, patching up any holes or loose floorboards. Things like that! It will take a while but it does get done. It's also going to take a while for you to adapt to your new woodland life if you're used to living in cities or towns.. all things considered, Jason let's you decorate the cabin as you please so you feel more at home. He sometimes steals stuff from the camp to make it feel more like a home.. he has to adjust to living with someone, so it's a learning experience for the both of you

HOMESICK

You do still get homesick, though. He.. tries to understand but he still does feel a little hurt that you feel that way, or even sometimes anxious that it's going to prompt you to leave him in the dust. He let's you talk about your old home to him, he never had much interest in life outside of the woods but the way you word things makes him fantasize about a life where everything was... normal.. in a way you make him long for the days where he was a boy and living with his mom

Now you're both exchanging stories

CAMPING

Does it count as camping if you live in the woods? Sometimes if you want to spice your life up, you can convince jason to let you guys hang around outside, setting up a tent and everything! To Jason it's nothing to special (not that he doesnt appreciate his home of course, he does. A lot), but he does feel soft that you're excited to do something like this with him. You share stories over a fire, star gaze. You end up falling asleep on the grass and Jason has to carefully bring you into the tent that had been set up. You wont have to worry about the chill of the night air thanks to jason being built like a heater

FIRST DATE

There isnt much to do in the woods, so usually your dates are walks in the woods. Sometimes you hold hands, other times he carries you around in his arms or on his shoulders. Its.. quiet but its nice. Every now and then he tells you about the plants and animals you two come across while walking around! Very nice, even if its simple. Sometimes though if the weather is nice and the bugs arent too bad, you both have a little picnic date together..

[twinksintrees]

Romance. Love it or hate it, for better or for worse, it's everywhere. Every song on the radio a love song, your relatives always asking if you're dating yet, romantic love being the center focus of every story we tell. If it isnt the a plot, it's always the b plot. My point is, romance is put on this pedestal and revered as the end all be all by nearly everyone, and that idea that romantic love is somehow above other relationships is so harmful. The cause of this idea, and the reason so many people prioritize romance so heavily, is amatonormativity.

Amatonormativity is the idea that everyone wants, needs, and would be happier in a long term, monogamous, romantic and sexual relationship, and that that is the ideal end goal for everyone to achieve in their life.

Romance is great, but it isn’t everything. And it’s not for everyone, and that’s okay (and you don’t have to be aromantic to not want a romantic relationship, which a lot of people seem to forget or straight up don’t realize). When you put romance on a pedestal, you place it above other forms of relationships. You are taught to prioritize romantic love above all else, because if you don’t have a partner, you’re going to end up all alone, right?

Wrong.

This society tells you if you don’t have a partner you’re doing something wrong. If you don’t have a partner to make you whole, you’re broken. You can’t be a person on your own, you need someone else to make you complete. You need exactly one other person to share your life with, to be your one support system, to be everything to you.

That’s not good.

It’s not healthy to depend on one person for everything, one person can’t sustain you. Yet the idea that your partner is your everything is so…romanticized, for lack of a better term. People will ditch their friends, ditch out on their families, in favor of spending time with their romantic partner. Or even a crush. We all have that one friend who gets into a relationship and all of a sudden forgets anyone else exists, right?

Amatonormativity is the root of that problem, and so many more. People will change their entire personality to fit in a romantic relationship. People will turn their entire lives upside down to make the relationship work, at their own expense.

Under amatonormativity, there is this idea that a romantic relationship can only look like one thing, that there is an ideal way to do things, and to break out of that is one of the worst things a person can do. This is why polyamorous relationships are so villainized, because they threaten that status quo.

If nothing else, I hope everyone who hears this is inspired to dive into their own wants, think about how romance affects your life, what relationships do you really value and want more of? There’s no wrong answer, and if you find out some relationship styles don’t suit you as well as you thought, that’s wonderful! More than anything I urge everyone to have fun with the relationships in their life, do what feels right for you as long as you don’t hurt others, and just have a good time with it, whatever that may look like for you.

Thank you all for listening, I wish you all a good day.

[itgomyway]

former limiting beliefs i used to hold and how i let them go ♡

(disclaimer: these are based off of my own experience! share yours on your own blog 🥰)

“the 3d HAS to reflect the 4d just understand you have it in your 4d no matter what.” um there is no separation between the 3d and 4d when you are already 1 being (consciousness). theres no need to live in a separate entity known as imagination when its the same as the “3d” anyways. the concepts of “imagination” “physical world” or “3d” are just false forms of consciousness youve made up and personified it as real. they are not. only you are.

“the more you repeat your affirmations the more likely they will come” theres nothing to “do” or say that will bring me my desires since i am everything i already am my desires. the idea of “doing” anything to “get something” outside of me doesnt make sense when its all in me. affirmations can be used to “bring things to your awareness” but understand the affirmations themselves are STILL not bringing you anyway. just making you aware of things.

“dont check the 3d! you’ll be in a state of lack/showing yourself you dont have it!” PLS GIVE ME A BREAK?? why the fuck are you telling urself you are with someone but afraid to check their socials or for their notifications? either date someone u like or you dont think you have it. because lets be honest. if you really were in a relationship with your desired person the idea of “checking the 3d”- which u already claim IS your 4d- shouldnt be an issue. and if it is then something aint right but i wont judge!

“youre in a state of neutrality if you dont care ab not getting your desires and you dont have them” damn yall strict asf. you cant even be indifferent without it meaning something. you either have it or you dont. if im indifférent its bc i have it why stress? fucking decide already

“neville taught ab non dualism!” here we go. then why tf did you misinterpret his words like that and make it sound obnoxious? i believe he did, just like his teacher, teach non dualism (the power of awareness by him is great) but his teachings are a far cry from the nonsense most of you spew in his name. and dont even get me started on how neville used to refer to the law of assumption as the “law of consciousness” but i digress. if you separate yourself or any aspects of being then it isnt non dualism.*

going into my next point “you HAVE to read source to understand!!” i am so glad most of the law of assumption community is breaking free from this mindset cuz you infact do not HAVE to read anything. if you are the operant (main) power doesnt this mean you are your own source? oh i thought so…

“work on your self concept to manifest your sp if you dont have them your sc is shitty” well it wasnt shitty til you told me i had work to do 💀. once again there is NOTHING you need to do but “be”. working on your sc can help u feel better ab yourself for sure but its not required!

for supposedly limitless beings, a lot of yall are very limited. be careful who you get your advice from because personally i wouldnt take after someone whos too scared to text their sp- oops i mean significant other. (disclaimer: once again not bashing loa just the users who can’t decide that they believe and switch every other day. very common on law of assumption twitter!)

if you realize youve been limiting yourself this whole time and now youre like “what now-“ well as ive stated before, theres STILL nothing you need to do. youre not missing anything. this isnt a blog on why you dont have your desires, i cant tell you the answer im not your creator. (you also are everything so you in fact have your desires)

like non dualism, i hope to share this way of life with you as you’re not getting anything so theres no need for limitations. LIVE YOUR LIFE. if someone is advising you to fear your own power then ignore them cuz wtf! life is suppose to be fun not a rule book!

*disclaimer: i have nothing against neville goddard. i really like some of his teachings. however i would never go to one of his living students for advice, ESPECIALLY on twitter. not only do most parrot the same limiting beliefs he himself didnt hold, but most are obnoxious about the topic of the law of assumption. i don’t even “manifest” but if i were trying to and had them to go to I’d probably cry. if you really wish to read “source”, read The Power Of Awareness by Neville Goddard and Power of Now by Eckhart Tolle 💜 learn from the teachers themselves FIRST <3

© itgomyway