#fr my mutuals here are the only thing keeping me caring about this show. love you guys

[fag4dykestobin]

im actually so mad and pessimistic about season 5 from what little ive seen. lol

[thelastofharrington]

the hard with the soft

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

A/N: hello! this is my first joel fic that i've ever written! i'm really excited about it and made this whole blog just to post it lol. there is plenty of smut in this so mdni! let me know what you think :)

summary: Falling in love with Joel Miller was something that happened to you little by little, and then all at once. To say the chemistry was immediate would be a complete lie. At first, you couldn’t even tell if he wanted you around, let alone wanted you in his bed. No, when he rescued you that day from one of Bill’s well-laid traps, you were certain he would never see you as anything other than a nuisance. A pest he had to take care of. 

Oh how wrong you were.

tags: praise, porn with context, slow burn, mutual pining, joel is soft on the inside, reader is down bad fr, non-canonical, rip bill and frank, takes place a year/two years after the show starts, love in the midst of an apocalypse is beautiful y'all

word count: 7k

i hope you enjoy!!!

Part 1: The Stumble, 1 Year Ago

You were hungry. Starving, even. You had been left behind from your group of outcasts three days ago (or had it been four? You were too exhausted to keep track of the time) when you twisted your ankle and couldn’t keep up the pace. You weren’t overly friendly with your most recent pack of ragtag survivors, mostly seeing them and each other as a mere means of survival rather than company. You hadn’t known friendliness or love from your packs since your parents got bit five years ago. Your parents couldn’t have known that three years after they brought you into the world it would fall apart, nor did they know they would both die protecting you from that same world they blindly brought you into. It’s been hard, but you’ve made it through and it actually was your birthday this week, the big 24. What a way to celebrate – being abandoned by the only thing keeping you safe and becoming walking bait for any clickers nearby. But still, you had fairly good spirits all things considered. Until you fell into an eight foot hole. 

It was in this hole that you realized a couple of things:

You’ve stumbled upon a domesticated piece of land. Someone somewhere near had the time, safety, and resources to dig an eight foot hole. 

If your ankle wasn’t sprained before, it was definitely sprained now considering how you landed on it.

You might have just fallen into your grave.

It was a series of progressively worse realizations, to say the least. 

Time had already felt like a concept out of your grasp for the last 20 years, but now there was truly no way of knowing if you had been down there 20 minutes or two hours when a shadow was cast on you. A man-shaped shadow. A man-shaped shadow with a gun. 

The gun was pointed right at you, the sun casting a halo around this giant man’s head. He towered over you as he held his stance firm and still. No one said anything as you both stood, unwavering. 

“I come in peace?” You finally choke out, unsure of what you could possibly say to save your own life right now. 

He doesn’t move, just croaks “How’d you find this place?” You notice the fragments of a Southern accent, nearly lost to the wear and tear of an apocalypse. 

You clear your throat and try to muster up the courage to speak with conviction. “My group abandoned me when I twisted my ankle early this week. I’ve just been aimlessly wandering.” You pause, unsure of if the next sentence will be your last, “This ankle of mine really hurts by the way. Your hole here isn’t really helping, considering I landed on it.”

You see him move his head out from behind the gun and look down at you slightly, then he moves back to position. “Are you armed?”

“No, I’m barely legged.”

He does not laugh.

“That’s something we call a joke, you know, since I can barely walk and all.”

His weight shifts again and he finally puts down the gun. “I’m going to help you out, but after that you better see yourself out of here. I don’t want any more of this and I don’t want any of your friends wandering this way either.”

“I don’t have any friends. I don’t have any family. I’m just me.”

He scoffs, “Sure, kid.”

“I’m also not a kid. I’m 24 years old and I’m hungry and my ankle hurts and why do you even have this hole anyway?!” You notice yourself turning hysterical but you don’t even care. You’re unarmed and you’re hungry and you’re all alone for the first time in a very, very long time. This man holds all of the power to help you and you’re not going to give up until he does. 

He doesn’t respond immediately, but when he does it’s in the form of him reaching down into his utility belt and pulling out a rope, and throwing you the other end. “You get one meal.”

You didn’t even know a meal was on the table, so you hobbled your way behind him as fast as you could. You ended up at a white, well-kept house behind an industrial strength gate. “How the hell did you find this place?”

He doesn’t answer right away, making you worried that you said the wrong thing somehow. Finally, when you’ve reached the front door, he huffs “It belonged to a friend.”

================================================

Part 2: The Fall, 6 Months Ago

That one meal turned into two days which turned into a week which turned a month which turned into six. You owe most of your thanks to Joel’s 14-year-old companion (contraband?), Ellie. She was instrumental in convincing Joel to allow for you to stay. If it weren’t for her, the first dinner would have easily been your last. But she was so taken with you and excited to have another girl let alone someone under 30 hanging out with them. Not that she didn’t adore Joel, or him her in his own little ways. But you were just such a breath of fresh air to her that Joel couldn’t help but allow for you to stay. 

Your role in their little group wasn’t quite clear. Joel did all of the hunting and patrolling necessary to keep this little slice of paradise exactly that, paradise. Ellie’s only job was to stay safe, and you decided to pick up the slack wherever you could. Dishes, clothing repairs, cooking dinner. Ellie didn’t need a nanny by any means, but you basically became a live-in housewife. With none of the perks, despite your daydreaming.

The last six months had been tumultuous for you to say the least. The presence of Joel constantly by your side made a lot of things very difficult. Like focusing, or keeping the weakness out of your knees, or the heat out of your dreams. He was hot, there was no denying it. If he hadn’t been waving a gun in your face the moment you met, it probably wouldn’t have taken you until the end of your first dinner to realize this. But not only was he hot, he was stoic. He was still and firm, a guiding light in this uncertain world you and Ellie both came of age in. He had a cold exterior, but judging by the way he treated Ellie, and eventually you, you knew there was some warmth bubbling beneath the surface. You knew he carried immeasurable hurt on his back, Ellie had told you about his daughter, Tess, Bill and Frank, and that was only the things Ellie knew. Who knew what was in the even further past of this sturdy man. The big, beautiful, brooding man who took care of you and Ellie despite his best instincts. 

You had only very recently gotten over your sprained ankle, taking a full 12 weeks to heal from the severe sprain. This was another saving grace for you in the beginning. Joel liked to pretend that he was heartless, but he still didn’t have the heart to send you on your merry way with only ¼ of your appendages working to their full capacity. He tried to kick you out after your first dinner despite Ellie’s whining, only to be able to only stomach three of your hobbling paces out the door. 

“Oh for God’s sake get back in here why don’t ‘ya,” You remember him sighing.

He took such good care of your ankle, at night when you’re all alone you can still feel the way his calloused fingertips massing you so gently. The hard with the soft; the essence of Joel Miller. 

“Does this hurt?” He asked four weeks in, as you sat for your nightly ankle exam. Starting your very first night, after dinner he would take your foot into his lap and exam it and massage it carefully for upwards of 15 minutes. You weren’t a doctor, but you knew enough to know that a nightly exam was excessive and unnecessary. But even at the very beginning you knew this was his way of showing you that he cared, that he wanted you safe. It was around this time that you realized that Joel had a soft spot for stragglers, for the outcasts who just needed somebody. Between you and Ellie, that much was clear, and it just made you fall faster for him than you thought possible. 

This realization and the true weight of it didn’t come to a head until one day where you decided to go out and try and collect some berries from the woods on the other side of the gate for a pie you wanted to make Joel for his birthday. You had seen him do it a million times, you thought you could get away with it. Until you heard that sound. 

Everything was fine, you had collected your blueberries and you were on your way, and then you heard it. You hear it before you see it, but soon enough you see it all the same. You had your gun with you, but your reaction time was nowhere near as fast as Joel’s was. The clicker starts stalking your way when you lose yourself to your impulses and just start running. You know better than to scream, but you get close. You run and you run and you’re looking back to make sure you’re not going to get caught when you smack into something six foot and massive. Joel’s chest. After you make eye contact you look up and make eye contact with him. He’s silently fuming, fists white knuckling around his gun. 

You go to speak when he stops you, “Don’t.” He whispers right before he shoots the clicker dead with no hesitation or struggle. The walk back to the house is silent, and not because he’s afraid of being found by the clickers. 

The slam of the front door is the first sound you’ve heard in minutes. He whips around and you swear you can see smoke coming out of his ears. “What the hell was that?!”

“I-” You start.

“You know what? I don’t want to know. I can’t hear from you right now.”

You say nothing.

“That was so completely careless! Do you not understand how we do things around here? You stay, I go. It’s as simple as that.” He’s pacing at this point, waving his hands wildly as he works through his anger with you. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

You pause, “I thought you didn’t want to hear from me.”

He stops pacing and looks at you, “Ha ha ha very funny. You’re a real smartass, you know that? If I hadn’t been there God knows what would have happened. You could have gotten killed!”

You look down at your feet, trying to hold back tears before you look back up. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to do something nice for you.”

He sighs, physically decompressing. “Well you went about it all the wrong way. I don’t need anything nice from you, you do enough around the house and with Ellie anyway,” He pauses, “I don’t know what I would have done with myself if you had gotten hurt.” He says this last part in a whisper under his breath, barely able to look at you.

“But it’s your birthday!” You choke out a sob. You’re so mad at yourself for putting yourself in danger and upsetting the man who saved your life six months ago. 

“What? No it’s not.” He says, confused.

Then, a lightbulb goes off for both of you as your jaws drop and you yell in unison, “ELLIE!”

Turns out, Ellie just wanted some pie.

================================================

Part 3: The Catch, Present Day

A lot can change in six months. But also, a lot can stay the same. You’ve grown very accustomed to the life you live here, in this big beautiful house, with your small makeshift family. Ellie is 17 now and makes Joel take her on test drives in Bill’s old truck around town. Joel has definitely gotten used to having you around, and even converted Frank’s old studio into a bedroom for you a couple of months ago. A real upgrade from living on the couch for the first eight months. 

Life is pretty standard, all things considered. You’ve heard more stories about the men who ran the house before you and you think they’d be happy to have people like you living a life like this in the home they built together. It’s a beautiful thing, to have some normalcy in a world fallen apart. 

You spend a lot of time with Ellie, who has developed a crush on one of the QZ traders. She’s tall and lean and tougher than all hell, you can see what Ellie sees in her even if you’re personally afraid of her. This realization on Ellie’s part has prompted a lot of impromptu sleepovers in your art studio turned bedroom, almost all of which are ended by Joel standing in the doorway going on about keeping quiet out of respect for your elders. You have to remind him every time that you too are an elder.

It’s also the summer time which means there’s lots to do outside. You never really learned how to tend to a garden so Joel’s been teaching you how to take care of the one Frank started all those years ago. You two keep it up with the seeds you get from trading with those select few still at the QZ, and it’s been a really special time between the two of you. It also doesn’t hurt that he prefers to work in the garden shirtless. 

“Hello? Hello? Are you even listening to a word I’m saying?” 

You snap out of the trance you were in from watching him hoe or row or whatever it is he’s doing with that gardening tool that makes his arms and back look like that. “What? Sorry, I zoned out.”

“You’re never going to learn if you keep daydreamin’ like that.” He gruffs before starting his spiel on strawberries all over again. 

You really can’t get a read on him. Sometimes he treats you as an equal, someone who has a shared interest in their work and in the safety of Ellie, but other times he treats you like you’re a toddler that can’t help but knock their head on the corner of a coffee table. He claims it’s because he doesn’t want you hurt, which you admit gives you butterflies, but if anything between you is ever going to transpire (like you desperately need it to), he can’t see you as just some kid. You’re turning 25 next week, dammit. You deserve some respect. But you’re just not sure how to get it, how to make him see you as a true equal. Someone he can rely on, put his faith into, and even care about on a deeper level. 

The opportunity of a lifetime presents itself one day in the form of something actually rather unfortunate. Joel finally gets hurt.

It’s a pretty normal day until then. You and Ellie practice driving, you journal, listen to some old records. It’s too hot to spend too much time outside, but you definitely make sure to check on the strawberries considering the lecture you got from Joel last week. It’s midafternoon when he comes straggling in, clutching his left arm in his hand and seething through the pain.

You immediately jump up from the couch, “Oh my God, what happened?”

He sinks down on the chair next to the piano, not looking at you. “Nothing, just go get the first aid kit.”

That answer is nowhere near good enough, but you go and get it anyway. Ellie is out in the backyard and doesn’t hear the commotion. When you return with the first aid kit you press on, “You have to tell me what happened so I can know how to treat you.”

He shifts uncomfortably in his seat as you kneel in front of him, opening the kit. “It’s nothing, just gonna need a couple stitches.”

You pry his right hand off his arm and see a deep gash on the bottom of his forearm. It’s not too long, but it sure is deep. “Jesus Joel, what the hell happened?”

He shifts and sighs once more, whispering something under his breath that you can barely hear.

“What was that?” You ask earnestly.

He whispers again, slightly louder this time, but he’s talking too fast to make out what he said. 

“Joel, come on. What happened?” You’re tending to his wound now anyway, but you really do need to know. 

He sighs, bringing his free hand up to pinch between his eyes. Avoiding eye contact with you he finally says, “I was walking back from trading when I saw a flower. I wanted to get that flower for you for your birthday. With my shears in one hand, I leaned down to get it, and I lost my balance and I tripped and I fell on top of the shears and they stabbed me.” He pauses, “There,  you happy? Now that I’ve humiliated myself…” He trails off. 

You’re too stunned to speak. You just keep staring at him, unmoving.

“If you’re not going to fix this up, give me the kit so I can do it myself,” He huffs at you.

You swallow and smile at him, trying to find the words. “Joel Miller, you secret softie. You maimed yourself in the pursuit of trying to do something nice for me, the girl you claim not to want around.”

He locks eyes with you for the first time during this conversation, “I never claimed that.”

Silence hangs in the air for a moment until you clear your throat and turn your attention to the wound at hand (or should you say, at arm?). “Let’s get this stitched up, ok?”

“If Ellie asks, tell her I did something super manly and tough to get these stitches, ok?”

You let out a laugh and nod, “Sir, yes sir.”

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s been three days since Joel hurt himself trying to do something nice for you and it has not left your mind even for a moment. You’re laying in bed wide awake, tossing and turning wondering what this could mean. I never claimed that he said so earnestly to you. I never claimed that. The four words echo in your brain like a megaphone. It’s been torture being around him as if nothing has changed. As if you haven’t changed on a molecular level after those four words rearranged every fiber of your being. It may be nothing, but it also could be something. It could be the that takes what you’ve been craving for almost a year to leave your daydreams and become a reality. Maybe he meant it in a friendly way, maybe even in reference to your working relationship of raising Ellie and keeping her safe. But if that were the case, why did it feel like all of the air in the room stood still? Why did he look to you like he was a puzzle that only you could solve? 

Cordiality be damned, you had to know the answer. 

You sneak out of bed and up the stairs, careful not to wake Ellie in her room on the first floor. Joel may be modest, but he still took the primary bedroom upstairs when they moved in. You avoid the creaking steps up the stairs artfully and end up at his door. It is only at this point you realize how crazy this is. You’re standing outside his door in the middle of the night with no plan and, frankly, no pants on. This is a recipe for disaster that you’ve quickly talked yourself out of. You go to turn around when the door swings open, Joel looking alert. His body visibly relaxes when he sees that it’s just you, and then tenses once more as his eyes trail down our body to the long length of your bare legs. 

“What are you-” “Sorry I was just-” You say at the same time.

You laugh, trying to break the tension. “Sorry, I was just leaving.”

“What are you doing up here, Y/N?” His body was pressed up against the side of the doorway, blocking it almost entirely with his broad stature. Shoulders resting on the side of the doorway, arms and feet crossed, he looked in no hurry to get you out of there. 

“It doesn’t really matter, I answered my own question. I’ll just head back downstairs,” You go to walk away when he grabs your arm lightly, turning you back to face him.

“Must’ve been some curiosity if it’s keeping you up at night.” You’ve never heard him talk like this. Not just the words he was saying but how he was saying them, they were smooth and slow and rich like molasses. It instantly made your mouth dry up and your knees weaker.

“I um, I was just wondering-”

“Yes?” He prompted, his hand still on your arm. Had he ever touched you before this? Surely you would have remembered the heat. 

You look him in the eyes and see a glint, even in the darkness. This spark of something gives you the courage to move along. “I was just wondering what you meant by saying you never claimed you didn’t want me around.”

His hand drops from your arm and the heat is replaced by an instant rush of cold in his absence. He looks away from you and doesn’t speak. 

Fearing you said the wrong thing you cower and turn to walk away once more. How could you have been so stupid? This isn’t just a matter of personal politics, this is a matter of survival. You have no one besides Joel and Ellie and if you get kicked out for bringing feelings into what is a basic need for shelter, food, and water, you will never forgive yourself.

You’re almost to the stairs when you hear him rumble, “I just meant that I have always wanted you around.” You whip around and see him looking at you, his gaze trailing down your body and then all the way back up again. “I want you here. Always have.”

Not moving towards him you speak, “Then why do you act like I’m some sort of helpless child? Why do I not have any real responsibilities? I could be out there, with you, trading and gathering intel. But instead I get, what, strawberries?”

“You don’t get it.” He looks down and shakes his head.

You walk back over to him, softly, so as not to spook him again. “Then help me understand.”

He looks at you with a softer gaze this time, “I keep you here, away from all of that, because I can’t risk you getting hurt,” He pauses for a moment before continuing, “It would kill me.”

You’re stunned. “Joel,” You start before he lifts a hand and cuts you off. 

“And I give you things like strawberries because I want you to have a chance at a good life, a simple life. One I can’t promise you forever but can promise you for right now. One I know you don’t even remember having.”

Your heart is beating immeasurably fast inside your chest. You never considered that these menial tasks were actually normal, and good. Cleaning up after dinner, growing strawberries, talking about crushes with Ellie. In the midst of wanting to prove yourself, you completely forgot to take stock of all that Joel had given you already. All the things people dream about in this day and age. 

You reach a hand up to touch his face, “Thank you. Thank you for giving me something good,” You pause, “I wish I could give you something good in return.”

He leans his head into your hand and closes his eyes, letting out a contented sigh. He turns his head to kiss the palm of your hand, “You are my something good,” he says so low you almost miss it. 

But you don’t miss it. You hear it loud and clear. You hear him loud and clear for probably the first time since you’ve met him. He is stoic and strong and brooding and brave, but he is also caring and thoughtful and safe. He is the hard with the soft, and he’s been giving you both all this time right under your nose. 

You decide to do something risky. You lean in for a kiss. You put your hopes for survival at the back of your mind and for the first time in forever you prioritize living.

It doesn’t take more than two seconds for Joel to pick up on what you’re doing and reciprocate. His arms immediately move from crossed over his chest to around your waist, pulling you deeper into the kiss. He pulls you so deep you cross the threshold of his bedroom, kicking the door shut on your way in. 

“Be quiet or you’ll wake Ellie!” You half scold, half giggle as you make your way towards the bed. 

“Sorry!” He giggles back. Joel Miller. The Joel Miller giggled into your lips. You could hardly believe your ears. 

If his words were like molasses, his kiss was just as sweet. Not too pushy, but with enough force to let you know that he was in charge. He guides you to the mattress with his body and his mouth, making you feel like you’re flying. You’re sprawled out with your legs over the edge of the bed when he finally pulls away and stands before you. 

You look up at him with hooded eyes and heavy breaths, “Why’d you stop?”

He runs his hands through his hair, “I just never want to forget this.” And he dives back down to you, not giving you a moment to respond. 

When he comes back his kiss is still sweet, but with a heat you’ve never experienced before. Granted, all of your past experiences were minimal, probably in the back of an abandoned, decaying car, and in the midst of an apocalypse, but you knew enough to know that it didn’t normally feel like this. 

You part your legs so he can insert his body between them, propping his arms on either side of your head as he kisses you deeply. You wrap your legs around his waist and pull him closer to you, needing as much of him on you as possible. 

“Somebody’s eager, huh?” He asks you between kisses.

Your resolve is officially broken, you’re laying it all out on the table. “You just have no idea how long I’ve wanted this.”

He pulls back to look at you, “Oh, I think I have an idea. You tend to have a staring problem, darlin’”

Your face flushes instantly. He lowers his lips to your ears and whispers, “I do too, I’m just a little more subtle with it.” He places kisses on your neck and then trails back up to your ear, “Your body drives me crazy, baby.”

Suddenly his hands are everywhere. One is up by your head so he keeps his balance while the other is trailing up and down your chest, your stomach, your neck. He’s everywhere all at once and it still isn’t enough. Your legs are still wrapped around his waist so you buck up to create even more friction than there already was. 

“Easy there, baby, I’ve been waiting an awful long time for this, I want to take it slow with you. Gotta treat you right.” He pins your waist down to the mattress with one hand. “Let me take care of you, baby.” His look is so sincere all you can do is nod. “Good girl.” 

With that, he takes his hand pinning you down and runs the tips of his fingertips along the waistline of your underwear, teasing you. You whine.

“Patience baby,” A kiss on the cheek, “It will be worth it, I promise,” A kiss on the other cheek. Then his fingers are tugging them down inch by inch until you’re completely bare to him from the waist down. “So pretty,” He says, almost to himself. 

Before you have time to acknowledge what he’s said, the same gentle fingertips that were teasing you a moment ago land on your most sensitive spot, creating a feeling of pleasure unlike anything you’ve ever known. Your body somehow tenses and melts into the mattress at once as he works you slowly but surely. 

“How does that feel, baby?” His voice is rough around the edges but soft at its center, he genuinely wants to gauge your reaction, as if your whines and body language weren’t enough. 

“Itfeelssogood” You slur out, hands gripping the sheets on either side of you. 

He kisses your neck, “Good. Now,” He moves his finger to your center and thrusts it in, moving his thumb back to your clit. “How does that feel?”

He’s working you up so good, you feel like you’re floating. His pace is the perfect mix between rough and conscious, never taking his eyes off you for even a second. You can tell he’s loving this as much as you are, and not just because you can feel his erection through his boxers. 

You moan as he works you before answering, “Joel it feels so good.”

“Such a good girl for me, so wet and ready. Is this what you were thinking about when you couldn’t sleep?” He whispers in your ear as he picks up the pace. 

You can feel something building deep inside of you, something you haven’t felt in a long time, and never at this magnitude. It’s coming on strong and fast, you can almost reach it. “Yes, this is what I was thinking about. I was thinking about your hands on me.”

“Mmmm that’s what I like to hear baby, what else were you thinking about?” He grabs one of your hands and brings it to his boxers, “Were you thinking about this?”

You moan and nod your head, he’s continuing to pick up his pace and you’re getting closer and closer. 

“I want you to cum for me, gorgeous. Please cum for me.”

You throw your head back and moan again, “I want to cum for you.”

“Just focus on how good it feels baby, you’re so close I can feel it. Be a good girl for me.”

And just like magic, you’re there. It hits you like a freight train and your whole body is consumed. You’re tensing and writhing and it definitely isn’t normally like this, but you’re just so overcome with emotions for this man and pleasure and all of the things that drive a girl crazy. 

He coaxes you through it with lots of reassurances and hair pets, and then finally you’ve come down. “Thank you,” You say as he brushes some hair out of your face.

“Don’t thank me yet darlin’, I’m not done with you yet.” And with that, he hauls your body up to the head of the bed, making sure your head is all settled on the pillows. He sits back on his knees and takes off his shirt, nodding at you to do  the same. You’re left completely bare and he in his boxers alone. You’re mesmerized by his body. Age normally should have broken him down, but for him he seems to have only been built up. You had seen him in the garden but this, this was something entirely different. He was raw here, with you. 

“This is what I meant by you needing to be more subtle. You don’t need to undress me with your eyes, baby, you just gotta ask.” He stands up and drops his boxers, revealing himself to you fully for the first time. He’s big. Like, real big. And thick. You don’t let yourself dwell on the mechanics for more than a moment, but you do wonder how it’s going to fit.

He gets back in bed and hovers over you once more, “Are you sure about this? We can stop at any time.”

You nod your head, “I’m sure. Never been more sure about anything, actually.”

He gives you one more kiss, a firm one with the promise of a good time. You run your fingers through his hair and tug slightly. He moans into your mouth. “You sure are an eager one, aren’tcha?”

He grabs his member and lines it up with your center, teasing you slightly. You wince at the sensitivity from your previous orgasm. “You ok?” He asks gently.

“Yeah, just a little sensitive. But I’m ready. Please fuck me, Joel.” The words even surprise yourself as you say them. You’re not the best at being direct about what you want, but right now all you can do is rely on pure instinct. 

He chuckles darkly before lining himself up once again, “Your wish is my command, sweetheart.”

And just like that, he’s fucking you. Long, hard strokes that never feel like too much too fast. Just right. You feel the fullness of him immediately and it’s so divine you can’t help but arch into him and moan. Your fingers fly back into his hair as he thrusts into you with such precision, he hits your G-spot every time.

“Is that good for you, baby? Tell me how it feels.” He grunts as he pounds into you expertly.

“I love it, baby. I love it,” You’re breathless as you try to find the words to describe the way he’s making you feel.

He takes one of your legs and rests your ankle on his shoulder, opening you up even more than you thought possible and deepening the angle of his already deep thrusts. You try not to scream, so you grab a pillow and put it over your face.

He rips it off almost immediately, “Oh no, sweetheart. No hiding from me. I want to see your pretty face when I make you cum on my cock.” 

You’re so incoherent you can’t even respond to his filthy words. You just moan in response and grab the sheets on either side of you.

He changes his pace a couple of times, switching from slow and long to fast and shallow, but it never feels out of place or off rhythm. He is just somehow so in tune with your body that he knows exactly what you need when you need it. 

You’re whining and moaning when he lowers your leg and gets his face up next to yours. His hand moves down to  your clit and he starts massaging it while he continues to thrust into you. “You’ve been such a good girl tonight baby,” He says through his own labored breathing. “Coming up here in your little panties practically begging to get fucked. Such a good girl.” You moan so loud he covers your mouth with his other hand, “I love hearing those moans baby but you gotta keep it quiet if you want me to keep going. And I know you want me to keep going.” 

You nod and he removes his hand from your mouth and sits back again, watching you from above. “Play with your tits while I make you cum.” You do as you're told, loving the feeling of his eyes fixed on you while you do exactly what he says. 

Once again, you feel something building inside of you. The combination of him inside you, his fingers working their magic, and his eyes on you makes it nearly impossible to resist the feelings as they come on strong. 

“I’m gonna cum,” You whine. 

“Do it baby, cum for me” He picks up his pace and you can tell he’s getting close himself, can tell he’s chasing something. 

It only takes a couple more seconds before you finish in an explosion of pleasure. You’re so out of it as you come down you barely register him pulling out and grabbing a tissue from the side table. What a gentleman. 

You’re both laying there in silence when the gravity of what just happened finally hits you. You just had sex with the one person that stands between you and certain death. This could ruin everything. You move to get up and go back to your room when you feel an arm on you, pulling you back down. 

“Stay,” He pauses, “Please stay with me.”

You smile softly at him and lay back down, but this time he wraps you up in his arms and spoons you. You can feel his breathing on the back of your neck and his calluses on your arms as he holds you. He starts tracing little circles on your skin with his thumb while he hums. 

“That was amazing,” You say, finally breaking the silence.

“Yeah, um, sorry if I came on too strong,” He pauses, “Haven’t done that in awhile.”

You turn around to face him and you rest a palm on his cheek, “It was perfect. You were perfect. I um, I just hope this doesn’t change anything?” You nervously finish.

He looks startled. He quits rubbing circles on your skin and moves back. “Yeah, no. No, it doesn't have to change anything.”

Clearly, you’ve struck a chord and you don’t know why or how. But you do know that you need to fix it. 

“I just, I know we’re in a precarious situation and I don’t want you to feel like our relationship has changed at all.” You begin.

He sits up fully with his back against the headboard, but he doesn’t say anything.

“Joel?” You join him up against the headboard, covering yourself with the blanket.

He sighs but doesn’t look at you, “If I had thought everything would stay the same I wouldn’t have done what I just did. I wouldn’t have opened the door and I certainly wouldn’t have let you in.”

You’re stunned and you’re scared, having no idea what he’s talking about. “What are you saying?”

Finally, he looks at you. “Dammit Y/N what if I want things to change?” He doesn’t raise his voice at all, but his tone is stern enough to send you aback. 

“What?”

Another sigh, “What if I want things to change? What if I want somebody who is going to be there for me at the end of the day in my bed? This world isn’t permanent and I can’t promise you forever but I can promise you for now. For now, I want this. For now, I want you. And I’m gonna keep wanting you until the thing that stands in the way of me and death itself disappears.” He pauses, “So yeah, maybe you don’t want things to change but I do. Sorry if that’s not what you wanted to hear.” He looks away from you again. 

“Joel, I-”

“I don’t want your pity. I get it, I’m just some old man with a 17 year old basket case trailing behind me and you’re young and beautiful and just had an itch to scratch. We’ll continue with business as usual in the morning. Good night.” He flips over onto his side away from you. 

You huff. This is ridiculous, you think to yourself. You tap him on the shoulder.

“You should probably go back to your room, Y/N.”

You tap him on the shoulder again. 

He flips around to look at you, “What more could you possibly want from me?”

You cross your arms over your blanket covered chest, “What makes you think I wanted things to stay the same?”

“Gee, I don’t know, probably the part where you said ‘things don’t have to change’?” He says sarcastically as he sits back up to face you. “Wonder where I got that crazy idea.”

“I was just saying that in case you didn’t want anything to change! I’m totally at your mercy with everything, including my survival here, so sorry for being cautious.”

He doesn’t say anything, but his mouth does fall open in shock a little bit. 

“Joel, trust me when I say I’m not taking pity on you when I say I want this too. I can’t promise you forever but I can promise you for now, and for tomorrow, and for the next day and the day after that. I choose you and I choose Ellie and I want this. I want you. I want to be the one that is there for you at the end of the day.” You smile at him and grab his hand, “You’re my good thing too.”

His face softens and he grabs your joined hands with his other one and leans over to kiss you on the cheek. You lean into it and giggle as he begins peppering a bunch of kisses all over your face. The hard with the soft, that’s Joel Miller.

“Let’s go to bed, shall we?” You ask him as he leans over you, caressing your face.

“Yeah, let’s go to bed.” He gives you one last kiss on the cheek and spoons you once more.

That night you dream of strawberries. Just fields and fields of strawberries. 

[dnangelic]

TSUN! I HAVE SOME CHOICE WORDS TO SAY TO YOU!!!!

you are such an absolute delight to see on the dash and interact with, and that is no exaggeration! I adore all of your muses and even if i don’t know any of their respective medias, i learn about them through your writing and your metas and you talking about them and thats so fun to do!!! ITS ACTUALLY MY FAVORITE THING EVER! I appreciate you giving my dazai a chance despite not knowing bsd aswell as p much any of my other muses sknsksns you’ve been so sweet to me since we first became mutuals and i genuinely love seeing you around so much 😭 i see you on the dash and my day gets atleast 10% better without fail every single time. i hope u talk about your boys forever and ever . ITS SO FUN TO BUILD DYNAMICS WITH YOU!!! anyone is lucky to write with / plot with / interact with you i wont even lie and i genuinely believe that nsjsksnsjssn i appreciate that you show interest in so many of my muses it makes my heart so so so warm . I HOPE WE CAN CONTINUE WRITING NOVELS TOGETHER FOREVERRRRR even though i know im the one who owes you like 2829922 things ksnsksns DW AB THAT . I ALSO WANNA SAY about you writing dark and daisuke specifically i think its so good how much care you put into a series thats really old and like Ive genuinely put the manga on my reading list BECAUSE of the interest garnered from your writing !! SOLELY BECAUSE OF YOU ! u are an absolute angel ( … hehehehensnensn … bejbwnw … get it bc … bc …!2&2!/@/!/82 s hehehehe ) AND YOU ARE ALWAYS SO KIND TO ME and always so interactive and i can’t even beginnnnnnnnnnnnnn to properly articulate how much of a joy you are 2 interact with !!! wishing you and daisuke and dark and yan qing and all ur muses the best day ever . 🙌

OH MY GOOOOOOSH and to think i was sitting here at ur post like 'should i ask permission for nine asking for permission. what if nine doesn't wanna say anything. i hate feeling like im ever panhandling for a compliment. nine should be pouring soup into my lap and slapping dark + calling him a bitch so i can finally apologize but youuuuUUU YOUUUUU ALL THESE FEELINGS R SO MUTUAL!!! I LOVE SEEING U TALK!!! IT BRINGS ME SM JOY TO SEE U POST!!! even the most random stuff. doesn't matter if its long or short. literally dont even worry abt owing me stuff ur presence alone is also a DELIGHT ur fr like such a funny mut and person BUT UR ALSO SO GOOD AT UR MUSES TOO??? LIKE i could go on forever abt how much i respect ur dazai alone and how even if i don't know bsd canon that's probably for the best, bc ur now ur dazai is The canon dazai to me, but u also have like nine... billion... (hehehesbhgbssnsjkdj x2) MUSES ON UR MULTI THAT U ALSO FLAWLESSLY INVEST URSELF IN AND!! WOWWWW WHAT A MUN!!! genuinely im so glad i found u even in this hellsite and that i can just toddle around following u like this everywhere 🐥 every like i leave on ur post is me picking at it for crumbs like a pigeon in a city being tossed bread. keep tossing that bread for me please please. IM CRYING. IM WAILING!!!! BUT SINCE U BROUGHT UP READING DNANGEL LET ME ACTUALLY HELP U OUT TOO??

scans are like absolutely everywhere and most places have the godawful quality fan translations. u can and frankly probably should read the official eng which is available here. dnangel had a weird run where the eng was only licensed and translated up to book 13. 14 and 15 (and beyond) are fan translations, but there's exactly one chapter that's ALWAYS broken on any website you go to except this one. this site doesn't complete the series though so the last link you'd have to hop to is this one. but the entire series is only 20 volumes in total. you could speedread through it in like a day. it's short and sweet and i love it even with its flaws. why else would i b here writing dark n dai. anyways. point is. tysm. im holding u and all ur muses tight. i wont leave u!!!! im so glad i met u!!! uve done sm for me already and i wont forget it!!! MY SO TALENTED FRIEND!!!

[matchamenace]

I posted 880 times in 2022

That's 880 more posts than 2021!

38 posts created (4%)

842 posts reblogged (96%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@bcyoureallthatmakessense

@dxncingwithastrxnger

@electricwalkman

@theamiableanachronism

@1980s-jean-ralphio

I tagged 648 of my posts in 2022

Only 26% of my posts had no tags

#fave - 71 posts

#fanart - 34 posts

#lovely mutuals - 31 posts

#matchamenace - 29 posts

#halloween - 26 posts

#matcha blogs! - 22 posts

#shane madej - 19 posts

#fall - 18 posts

#spooky season - 18 posts

#matcha asks! - 18 posts

Longest Tag: 138 characters

#everytime i think about him i get the weirdest mixture of joy and sadness and i just wanna curl up in a ball and cry and/or possibly vomit

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Who is your stranger things tumblr bestie :)

Oh man I don't have just one bestie, but the peeps I'm closest to are probably:

@dxncingwithastrxnger

@bcyoureallthatmakessense

@claire-de-lune

@purpleangelsele

Of course there's plenty of other blogs I adore that I just haven't interacted with as much, but perhaps one day that'll change 😌

7 notes - Posted November 26, 2022

#4

Got covid booster #2 this morning. Already starting to feel cruddy. 😭

8 notes - Posted November 14, 2022

#3

MY DARK DASH IS BACK

OH THANK GOD- MINE TOO 😭 I don't know how I ever tolerated light mode in the past ahaksks

8 notes - Posted November 16, 2022

#2

Fuck, Marry, Kill

Hopper

Murray

Steve

🥰😌

OH FUCK WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO ME CLAIRE??? 🤣🤣🤣🤣

AHSHSJDJDJDK OKAY!! Kill Murray for sure (he's one of my least favorites, sorry not sorry 🙈) Fuck Hopper 😜, Marry Steve 😘

Ok this actually wasn't hard at all lmao. Just very telling... 👀

11 notes - Posted October 25, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Who are some of your favorite Mileven blogs and why? Let’s spread some positivity and smiles on this fine Friday🌻🐛🌼 then tag 3 other blogs to keep the smiles going.

Oh goodness!! Let's see here agsjsksksk

@dxncingwithastrxnger ABSOLUTE KING 👑🔥🔥🔥 Nothing but good vibes and the fluffiest fics and headcanons you'll ever read!! 🙌 They put SO much thought and care into their posts and are just such a pleasure to interact with 😋💕 Honestly my go-to if I'm looking for lighthearted, feel-good content. (ILY ALEX!!!!!!!! 👋)

@purpleangelsele ACTUAL CINNAMON ROLL ✨ (Sweet with a hint of spice 😎👉👉) Probably one of the friendliest people I've met online lol! Doesn't matter what I post, I can always count on Sel to give me some sort of engagement and I fkin love it!! 🤣 As for their content it's mostly fun and cute headcanons, but they definitely don't shy away from the occasional hot take or petty post 😌 Tons of personality. Great sense of humor. LOVE THEM!!! 💜💜💜

@mikes-pineapple-pizza Incredibly articulate and astute observations!! 🙌✨ Has a knack for breaking down a variety of ST topics (including, but not limited to Mileven) in a way that's intelligent, but also very chill and unpretentious. Idk. Their content just really speaks to me and I think they're super cool. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Fr tho, this person could make a podcast just analyzing anything in the show and I would EAT IT UP!!!! 🔥🔥🔥

@claire-de-lune Ah man the duality of Claire.... 🤣🤣🤣 Deliciously petty, but simultaneously has some of the sweetest and unique headcanons to offer! 🥰 A VERY passionate Mileven defender who won't take shit from nobody, but an absolute delight to have on your side 😜💕

@lenorahills @fricchead @rllybritrlly @pumpkingface BITCHIN' ARTISTS!!! Each have such cute and unique illustration styles, and it's ridiculous how excited I get everytime they post new content asksksk 🙈💕 As an artist myself, I could not recommend them more 🙌

Anyway I think I'm gonna end descriptions here, but here's some other Mileven blogs I adore:

@truessences @teafiend @flamingfalcon3 @bcyoureallthatmakessense @pjo-fan17 @elsmike @crisperia @reganx2 @mikewheely

It definitely doesn't end there, but I'm feeling lazy today, so I sincerely apologize to anyone I might've excluded! I still love and appreciate you all!!! 😘

25 notes - Posted October 15, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[outrunningthedark]

lol. just like a week ago maybe? one of my oldest mutuals blocked me that day we had the ''I can't stand HS party'' (?).

and I was left here like????? okay then. that's a funny hill to chose to die on..

The never-ending Harold love and excuse-making is...exhausting to me. 1. They take offense to POC pointing out that he's not actually "breaking barriers" by wearing femme clothes and giving their opinion re: Lil Nas X or Prince or *insert male celebrity* did it better. (The annoyance when Lil Nas X gets uplifted while "dissing" H is especially gross, obv, because Lil Nas X has a lot more to lose as Black gay rapper than H, who is a white Brit from a teenybopper boyband, and saying he "doesn't label himself" is NOT the same thing as taking a public hit the way Lil Nas did. No, H nor any celebrity does not *owe* fans a coming out, but it's not hard to see why a lot of people think he doesn't deserve the same level of credit!) 2. Yeah, okay. H has made statements that imply he's not completely straight. But he can be queer and still get into relationships with women, yes? That is bisexuality? So, it's not the demand for an *official* coming out that pisses people off; it's that the likelihood of H committing to another man won't be believable unless the words come from his own mouth. (It'd probably be easier to imagine if he stopped "dating" for a while, but I think fans need to reckon with the possibility that he's going to be "living a lie" for even longer than they thought...Like. Possibly forever.) 3. I said this yesterday, but the vitriol 1D stans show towards TSwift is amusing to me when the boys are literally following her example - writing songs with lyrics that fans can attribute to a specific relationship. The only difference (for them) is that Swiftie sings about possibly staged relationships whereas they believe with 100% certainty they know who H is referring to - and it makes them happy! JMO, but...I think H (& his counterpart) are going to keep letting fans make assumptions about their relationship because 1) it's literally all people care about??? "How can I make this lyric about L*rry?"??? They know what sells??? and 2) if they ever confirmed they aren't together, some of y'all might need to be put on suicide watch fr :// (I have a lot of thoughts about H and they all boil down to "He's just. Some Guy.")

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Ok I don't want to throw hate unnecessarily fr take it as a creative criticism. At first when you started writing the drabbles I loved them too but after a while, even though the prompts changed, the concepts were just redundant( I mean the way you write out every story) At this point there's no reason to even continue writing these drabbles if it's just gonna be the same thing. It's so boring rn the same way they confess to each other in every prompt, they just suddenly confess,and also somehow end up loving each other secretly, them being so good to each other and nothing about school rivalry, I mean I know they're just drabbles but I've read what you wrote at first so I just think that you can do better. I hope what I said didn't hurt you if it did then im sorry

Hey friend!

Oof. Checking my notifications when I wake up in the middle of the night has finally bitten me in the ass.

I’ve written and rewritten this a couple of times because I’m having trouble not getting emotional about it.

Let’s start here: “I know they’re just drabbles”. You’re right, they are just drabbles. I don’t like to write things that don’t end happily, so in a drabble that’s only a few scenes long there’s only so much development I can do. I’ve actually said in several posts that I’m not a great drabble writer for this very reason. Maybe you’ll enjoy the longer, multi chapter things I’ve written when I find the time to post them. (Or maybe you won’t. 🤷🏼‍♀️)

Next: “they just suddenly confess, and also somehow end up loving each other secretly”. I like to think the ‘suddenly’ bit is because I’m bad at writing drabbles where there is limited space to build up to it, maybe that’s my pride speaking though. But ‘loving each other secretly’ is a little confusing to me. Do you mean that you’d like to see it be one-sided more often? (If that’s the case, loop back to the paragraph prior- I write things that have a sense of being happily completed.) Or do you mean that they shouldn’t be surprised that the feeling is mutual? Are you wanting one of them to confess and the other to say, “yeah, obviously. I’ve already planned our wedding.”? I just don’t get what you’re hoping for.

And I might have thought from those two bits that you meant you were sick of love confessions and want more established relationship drabbles but you go on to say that I address “nothing about their school rivalry”. In a drabble which is a couple of scenes at best I don’t have a lot of time to explore that and still end up with an ending that has them as even friends let alone together. (And these are drarry drabbles; they’re meant to end up together.)

I’m not entirely sure how to say the next bit without infusing my emotions into it. This part: “them being so good to each other” written as a complaint kind of gutted me. I don’t know what kind of world you live in, but mine feels shitty a lot of the time. I look at the world around me and I see so much pain, so much suffering, so much heart ache- I see people being unkind, people treating others disrespectfully, I see people who claim to love each other acting with anything but love. Things suck. And I can’t help but imagine that things suck for a lot of people. The world is desperate for a little tenderness. I am desperate for a little tenderness. At the end of the day, I want to put love and goodness into the world so I write about people being good to each other.

Let me briefly address these comments “I don’t want to throw hate unnecessarily but…” Justifying what you’re about to say with a precursor like that indicates that you know that the thing you’re about to say will be read that way. You reiterated it again at the end, “I hope what I said didn’t hurt your feelings”. Ooh boy. If what you want to say needs to end with an apology, maybe don’t say it, because all that says is ‘I know that I just said something hurtful but I don’t really care. I’m just trying to make myself feel like I’m still a good person’ because if you were really sorry, you wouldn’t have written it (or at the very least, you wouldn’t have sent it) in the first place. I say all of this only to ask that you not to send things like this to other people.

But you’re right. I could do better. I’m an amateur writer who only spends a couple hours a day writing fanfiction that I barely edit before I post. If I put in the time and energy I could probably write really beautiful things but I don’t have more to give at the moment. And maybe you’re right. Maybe these ficlets aren’t worth writing or reading anymore. Honestly the mean voice in my head says the same thing. My own internal monologue tells me that I am a one trick pony and asks me how many times I can possibly write about the same two idiots falling in love. As you say, the setting may change and the prompt may change, but the outcome doesn’t change.

But when that voice starts talking in my head I remember how many people have told me that the nonsense I write brightens their day. I remember the people who tell me that they love reading about the same two idiots falling in love over and over. Most importantly, I remember the people who say they want a relationship like that or that this version of Harry and Draco are “relationship goals”. I remember those people the most because if I can write something that helps people to know that they deserve to be treated like that, they deserve to be with someone who is good to them, then this isn’t a waste.

No, if my drabbles can brighten a day, or show the value of love, or help someone to know that they are worthy of love no matter what they’ve done or where they’ve come from, it’s not a waste.

And if it’s not doing that for you, if they’re boring, predictable, cliche, etc. that’s okay. Genuinely. You don’t have to like what I post. You don’t have to read what I post. Heck, you could start writing your own fanfiction so that it will be just what you want.

But I’m going to keep posting about these two being in love and being good to each other until it’s not doing any good.

Blessings on you and may you find what you’re looking for. ❤️

[wandering-the-worlds]

hi if you're here to not see spoilers for

FINAL FANTASY FOURTEEN!

FIVE NIGHTS AT FREDDY'S BUT MOSTLY SECURITY BREACH!

TEARS OF THE KINGDOM!

GOOD OMENS!

toh, mrd, portal, gf, hk, the rest of loz, tsp, utdr, uhh theres um. lots.

i reccomend you steer clear of this blog because I DO NOT TAG SPOILERS! so disclaimer ect ect dont yell at me if i ruin endwalker for you

ok other stuff

fr = wanderingworlds / 515074

scratch = LadySummoner

everything that isn’t a reblog here and here

oc ask blog? art side blog? at @ketupa-zeylonensis. look at my art im proud of it. and send me questions.

can and will tag things as blorbo from my shows/games/ocs you get the point

DO NOT repost/use my art without my permission.

thats it. enjoy or don't up to you byeeeee

common blorbo tags/oc lore stuff below cut:

"mintverse" or "tfslaa" is my story about a bunch of vessels that are all alternate timelines of eachother stuck in a time loop, mainly featuring:

Hare [killed radiance and now a SCARY EVIL VILLAIN!! on earth]

Finch [adopted by pk]

Sparrow [killed radiance then adopted by pk]

Nightjar/NJ [ended up in minecraft] [only sort of canon now]

Stoat [ended up in flight rising]

Saffron [from the previous loop. trying to overthrow mint]

Mint [the person in charge of the time loop. lives in flight rising]

Rach [the very first of them. helped mint start the time loop]

Thorns [mint but before she combined with rach]

"solverse" or anything relating to the "castledwellers" is my story about a minecraft bird who's putting the god of fate back together. overlaps with mintverse a lot. mainly featuring:

Solace and Remnant [the minecraft bird and the shattered god of fate. sol is dead and remy is the only thing keeping her alive and she intends to repay that by whatever means possible.]

Virion and Vrallo [they're literally just chilling. sol's favorite mortal and voidling who take care of fates's castle while she's gone. anything that refers to "The Game" is referring to when they all met, btw.]

Dearth and Scribbles [sol's ex-partners who sold their souls to multiverse satan and got mad at her about it. can you believe that?]

Sum [killed sol but they're cool now. lives with mint in flight rising]

Pastel-Purple [wol but time loop about it. mutual seething hatred with mint]

Tarlind [she's not really a castledweller i just love her forever. the real azem out of these wols]

Helpingway [also not a castledweller but whatever. loporrit wol!]

Dark-Blue [she's also literally just chilling. not even in the castle.]

Blue Lights [the cooler dark-blue. official chronicler of fate but actually just bug tests dimensions for god aka going on cool adventures instead of chronicling things. also my sona]

"solverse1" or "pre-cascade" refers to anything that happened before sol died and "solverse2" or "post-cascade" anything after. i'll have better names for it eventually probably

and other general multiverse stuff:

There are beings which lie outside of the cycle once set by Fate. These are the three Voids, Fates itself, and Axolotl, as well as anyone borne from or chosen by them.

Light and Dark, The All-Expelling and All-Consuming, The True Voids, whatever you want to call them, are the Empty and the Darkness.

The Empty just hates everything and wants to be left alone forever. This isn't going so well. Its children are the Audience.

The Darkness wants to eat everything but no one wants to help it so that isn't going so well either. Its children are the Souleaters, and technically every dark voidling is descended from it as well.

Order and Chaos, Code and Flesh, and whatever else they choose to present with at the time, are Fates and the Corruption.

The Corruption wants to take over the multiverse but all the other gods hate it. ESPECIALLY Fates. Its children are the Guides, Puppeteers, and Watchers, and every other awful tentacle monster in existence.

Fates got murdered lol. It's not very happy about this. It was in charge of arranging and maintaining dimensions/timelines. Its children are the Actors.

The God of Gods, Axolotl or Xotl or any other name, the Obscured, is just, like, chilling.

Dimensions are generally split into two categories; codeworlds and fleshworlds [name pending. i hate it]. I'm sure you get the gist of that I'm not explaining the specifics here

After Fates was shattered, the loose denizens of the multiverse took its shards to create great cities where all could live in peace. This actually worked out pretty well [for everyone except Fates].

One of these is the City of Origins, aka the Minecraft city. Darkie ate it lol. Sol is from there.

and that's the lore!!! yippee!!!!

oh yeah and 🌌 is the blorbo tag for when i don't feel like sharing who the blorbo is

also, my flight rising lore and ffxiv lore take place in the same dimension. this is why mint and pastel hate each other

[psyched2b]

Can I please get 22, 32 & 73 with a mj x fem!reader pairing?

This was a new one for me but I had a blast writing it! Hopefully, I did MJ justice? *secretly worried* 😬

22, 32, 73 MJ X FR

22. You’re breaking my heart, babe.32. …or we could make out…73. “I’m your lock screen?” -  “You weren’t supposed to see that.”

“Why am I required to take Calculus? Math is literally the worst subject in the universe. Like, how is any of this applies to the real world?” You slam your textbook shut to end your rant.

Just before you could throw the cursed text across the room, a tan hand reaches out to cover your own, effectively stopping you. “Don’t throw that,” Michelle, better known as MJ, cautioned without looking up from her sketchbook. “You break it and they’ll have you buy a whole new set for the school.”

You duck your head to cover the blush that spread over your face. Huffing, you cross your arms over your chest and pout. “Ain’t nobody have the resources for that.” You pause, a thoughtful look taking over your expression. “Maybe Peter can get Mr. Stark to donate new books. That could work.”

MJ lets out a “preach” before releasing your hand.

You try not to pout at the loss of contact, instead, continuing with your rant. “I should make a formal complain to administration that forcing students to take classes they dislike will just encourage them to rebel against the system. We are the leaders of tomorrow and we can decide to completely abolish math. I have a feeling that they will take that threat seriously enough since they all just seem to love math so much.” You pick up your pencil and twirl it in-between your fingers, a habit that shows you’re brainstorming. Sighing, you lean up against MJ and rest your head on her shoulder. “I’ll have to start a mutiny.”

You’d never admit it aloud, but you had the biggest crush on the woman next to you. Ever since you met freshmen year, you looked up to her. She was wicked smart and super easy. Not to mention incredibly beautiful. You loved how…natural she was at everything. She never cared about appearances, physical or not…and it was a breath of fresh air in a world where everyone cared so much about appearances of themselves and others. You always told her that she was #goals. And every time, she would roll her eyes at you, but you knew she appreciated the sentiment.

You look over her shoulder to see what she’s drawing and you’re not surprised to see it’s Spider-Man. “Have you figured out who that is yet?”

MJ turns her head to look at you and gives a knowing smile. “I have a guess.”

Before you could question her further, Peter and Ned come running into the empty classroom.

“Hey, guys!” Peter says, cheerful as always.

You regretfully move your head off of MJ’s shoulder and scoot as for back into your desk as you could, embarrassed. You were pretty sure that Peter knew about your crush on your mutual friend and he was Terrible, with a capital ’T’, at keeping secrets. So, you weren’t going to add fuel to the fire.

Ned follows his best friend into the room dutifully, setting his backpack on the ground next to the desk of choice. “Do you two always have detention or do you just like hanging out in here?”

You and MJ look at each other before turning back to the two boys and shrugged in sync, choosing not to answer.

Ned scowls and Peter smirks.

Peter claims the desk next to you and slides it closer, the legs squealing across the laminate tiles. “Hey, Y/N. Can I borrow your phone? I need to call May and I lost my backpack….again.”

You see MJ roll her eyes and you give a small smile, turning your attention to the puppy dog of a boy. “Sorry, Pete. My phone died fourth hour.” You give him an apologetic look.

He just shrugs and hops over his desk, casually sliding into the one next to MJ. “Can I use yours?”

Before he could finish his question, she was already holding her phone out to him. “Don’t lose it because I just might have to kill you.”

Peter grabs the phone and gives her his thanks before scrambling out of the room to make his call.

Ned stayed back, eyeing you and MJ. “Is there something going on here?” he asks, gesturing between the two of you.

You feel yourself flush, but before you could respond, MJ beats you to it. 

“So what if there is?”

You look towards your best friend, eyes wide in shock.

Peter strolls back into the room at that point with a weird look on his face. He hands MJ back her phone and settles back into the desk next to me. “Interesting lock screen you have there,” he comments, nodding at the phone in her hands.

Of course, you’re curious to see what her lock screen is and you’re wondering how you’ve never noticed it before. You lean across your desk to peer over her shoulder, but she stashes her phone back in her pocket before you can see.

You slouch back into your chair and clutch at your heart dramatically. “Ouch! You’re breaking my heart, babe. What’s so bad that I can’t see?”

“Yeah, Michelle, whatcha hiding?” Ned teases, giving her and Peter a knowing looking.

“It’s MJ,” the both of you state together, scowling at the boy. Then you both look at each other, you surprised and her guiltily.

You realize that she really doesn’t want you to see the picture. You can feel yourself deflate, but manage to keep a strained smile on your face. “It’s okay, you don’t have to show me. Sorry I asked.”

You start to gather up your stuff to leave. “Sorry I got to cut,” you apologize to the small group. “Ma’s going to want me home soon to help with kid sister.” Picking up your bag, you make your way out of the school.

You really didn’t expect to be followed because it was true that you had to get home…and your friends knew that

“Y/N! Wait up!”

Your heart thumped heavily in your chest at the sound of MJ’s voice carrying through the empty halls. You seriously debate whether or not you want to acknowledge her, still hurt that she was keeping secrets. But, you knew that wasn’t fair and she really didn’t owe you anything. Everyone was entitled to their own secrets.

So you stop and wait for her to catch up to you. It only takes a minute for her to catch up and she immediately goes to grab your hand, holding it to her chest. You can feel her heart hammering away and you know it’s not from the small chase. Was she nervous??

You give her a confused look and before you can ask what’s going on, she’s pressing her phone into your hand.

“I didn’t want you to think it was a secret,” she explains, still holding your hand closed around her phone. “But then I realized that it was…and I don’t want it to be.”

“You’re not making sense,” you tell her, eyes flicking between her and the phone. Then you notice that she’s blushing and the level of interest grows.

She releases your hand and nods towards it. “Just look,” she urges.

You hold the phone up and pause, looking to her to make sure it was okay. She nods again and it’s encouragement enough for you to click on the phone screen.

You nearly drop the phone in surprise when you find yourself looking back into your own smiling face.

You look from the phone to MJ and back a few times, mouth hanging open in surprise. “I’m your lock screen?” you ask in disbelief. Butterflies have taken residence in your stomach and your thoughts are racing at a hundred miles per hour, trying to comprehend what that meant. Instead of it being a picture of the two of you like you would have expected, it’s just you. What did it mean??

MJ takes the phone back and tucks into her back pocket. She then looks at your hand and you see her hesitate. It’s the first time you’ve ever seen her so nervous. Your brain was going to explode trying to make sense of the situation.

Then she takes a leap of faith and grasps your hand in hers, intertwining your fingers. “You weren’t supposed to see that,” she admits, “Like, ever. But some idiot boy pointed out that perhaps….you may have feelings for me? And that we are two fools dancing around each other.”

You don’t say anything, eyes wide in disbelief.

MJ takes this as a sign that she’s wrong and she tries to pull her hand from your, apologizing.

You tighten your grip, refusing to let go.

She looks at you in confusion. “What are you doing?”

In response, you release her hand and throw your arms around her neck, pulling her into a bear hug. You press a kiss to the side of her head. “I thought I was…that this was one-sided.” As you speak, you realize that you’re crying.

You pull away, turning away to hide your embarrassing reaction to this revelation. You pull a tissue out of your pocket and quickly wipe away the evidence of your emotions. 
She still notices and walks around you so you’re face to face again. You look anywhere but at her, embarrassed. Her expression is soft as she reaches out and dry your tears herself with her thumb. “Why are you crying?” she asks in a kind tone, concern underlying it.

You finally meet her gaze with watery eyes. “I just- I never thought…that it would be possible that…you would like me.” You let out a sigh and give her a sheepish smile. “I always kind of thought you had a thing for Peter.”

She snorts at your admission. “Why would you think that? How many times have I told you that boys are stupid?”

You smile at this and wipe at your eyes with the back of your hand, drying the last of the tears. “Yeah, but I thought that was just something the whole world agreed on.”

MJ rolls her eyes. “Well, now you know. I go for girls. Well, just you because everyone else sucks.”

You bark a laugh. “That’s true.” Your watch beeps at you letting you know that it was time to go home before you were late. You look down to check the time and groan. “Shit, I have to go.”

“….or we could make out?”

You bump your shoulder against hers before lacing your fingers back together. “You should probably buy me dinner first.”

200 Follower Celebration: ✏️Drabble Challenge, 🎼Musical Names, 💜Character Ships, and ❓Get to Know

[eottoghe]

Little Boxes - Thirteen

A Jeonghceol Domestic AU where they live in suburbia with their six year old son Chan. Jeonghan is an active member of the PTA, a soccer dad and chauffeur, and a supportive parent all around. His loving husband cares deeply for his passions and will follow him to the end of the world if it keeps him and his family happy. Follow their journey as they get caught up in fun and zany adventures when they fall outside of the guide lines of your average neighbor. Don’t really know where I’m going with this, but I want to see how many different domestic prompts I can get out of this AU before I run out of steam.

First Chapter

Previous Chapter

________________________________________________________________

It’s Monday. Chan usually doesn’t like Mondays all that much because they mean having to restart his routine of waking up too early and sitting through reading time for what seems like foreeeever. There’s no Saturday morning cartoons on Mondays and no Seungcheol-appa to cuddle with on the couch while they eat Cocoa Pebbles. But today is a special Monday. Why?

Because he is officially turning seven years old today!

He doesn't feel any different. Not yet anyway. But he's excited, nonetheless. He likes holidays. All kinds of holidays because most of them only come once a year. And this is the one time a year he gets a holiday all to himself.

At school, Jeonghan shows up right before lunch time with two rectangular boxes nestled close to his chest and a red tote bag hanging off his shoulder. The classroom instantly goes mum at the spectacle before them, thrilled whispers and inconspicuous glances being passed around the room. They know the drill.

They’re all getting really good at math so they can easily spot the solution to this equation. If they sang Happy Birthday to Chan at the start of the class and his parent comes to the classroom during lunch time, then the boxes in his hands must be cupcakes! It happens often enough for them to know, but the excitement never really wears off.

“I can help you, Mr. Choi!”

“No, me!”

“I can get the napkins!”

The kids jump at the opportunity to help hand out the goodies. It’s a great feeling because Jeonghan knows in a few years, it’ll be torture just asking for a simple chore to get done. For now, he revels in the kindness that they exude and smiles the same gentle smile that won them over during the first fundraiser event he’d helped with.

Chan gets out of his seat, running to his dad. He hugs his thighs and Jeonghan has to re-balance himself to make sure the cupcakes don’t go flying due to the sheer magnitude of the impact. Chan showing public affection? He’s put aside his childhood bravado just for this sweet moment and Jeonghan couldn’t be more soft for it.

“Please stay in your seats. I’ll choose a couple of you to hand out napkins and Mr. Choi and I will pass out the cupcakes.” Their teacher calls out to the class. Chan is reluctant to pull away but thinks about getting a red sticker on his birthday. He would hate hate hate getting a red sticker any day for not listening and even more if its on this day so he scurries off to his table and plops back down in his mustard yellow, plastic seat. He is beaming at his dad with rose dusted cheeks as his classmates say happy birthday to him and high five him from where they sit. He loves the attention even if he still gets shy sometimes.

Once they’re back settled and the two designated helpers pass out all of the napkins to each kid, Jeonghan and the teacher divide and conquer. Jeonghan was smart and decided to purchase cupcakes that were as uniform as possible. He knows how picky kids can be and wanted to avoid arguments over who got what.

Chan gets first pick though and his table is glad to have the birthday boy in their assigned group because that means they get next pick. Jeonghan and the teacher go table by table, weaving between the chattering children bouncing in their chairs. The chirped thank you’s rang out in high pitched squeals as they dug into the sugary sweet cupcakes, blue frosting staining their tongues. (Probably the best kind of treats are ones that can be shown off by their visual residue).

As they eat and talk amongst themselves, Chan’s teacher starts up a conversation with Jeonghan standing shoulder to shoulder, looking out across the classroom. “Thank you for coming in today. The kids just seem to adore you, Mr. Choi.” The teacher is a bit new and exultant in her teaching methods. She hasn’t been beaten down by the hardships that come along with the job yet so every moment she sees the kids smile is a win in her book.

“I do my best. I love kids. In another life, I could see myself as a teacher at a school like this one.” He laughs to himself thinking about how completely exhausted he’d be with small aged children filling up every corner of his life. It’s not much different from now only he doesn’t have to deal with the responsibility that accompanies teaching at a public school.

“I could see that too. Chan is always talking about you and your partner like you’re the best things that ever happened to him. We’re so lucky to have Chan and you both as his supporters. He’s got lots of friends here and he’s such a cheerful kid.”

Jeonghan, try as he may, is unable to stop the proud smile from spreading across his reddening face. He feels his ears tingle, looking at the ground to avoid the eyes of the grateful woman.

“Thank you. I feel secure with him in your care.” He nods his head in mutual appreciation. He definitely doesn’t pop in to the classroom nearly as much as he did in the beginning of the year when he couldn’t trust any teacher to govern over his one and only child for such a significant portion of the day. He thinks she’s done well.

She reminds the class that they should RSVP to Chan’s birthday party by tomorrow after Jeonghan mentions it in their casual talk. She also gives her thanks to Jeonghan for giving an invite to every kid as feeling left out in this age is such a saddening thing to see on a child’s face. Invitations were handed out a week ago and Chan was happy to report that everyone seemed eager.

They close out the mini celebration with Chan being wished happy birthday one more time in a cacophonous harmony. Jeonghan kneels and gives him a quick kiss on his forehead before the now seven-year-old decides it’s too embarrassing. The extra cupcakes are left for the other teachers Chan might want to share with and Jeonghan hands over some extra hand sanitizer bottles and tissues he bought for the classroom. The teacher thanks him once more and he’s off.

Chan still has a couple hours left of school so he decides to stop by a Michael’s craft store to avoid the drive back home just to turn around and fight traffic back. There’s still shopping to do for the vast decorations he has yet to gather. He was so inspired, he even made a moodboard from various Pinterest posts he’d come across. Chan wanted a Jurassic Park theme and it allowed Jeonghan to let his creativity set sail.

He’d picked up the plates, cups, and utensils all in a convenient party pack from Party City along with table cloths and enough supplies to craft some pretty kick ass goodie bags. What he’s most excited about though is the zookeeper outfits they’d come across. It took lots of asking around, but they’d found some. The adult size was definitely going to fit Seungcheol better than himself (He was biased. He thought Seungcheol was smoking in everything he wore), but it worked out well enough that when they all stood together, they looked like they were off on an expedition, slashing through vines and palm fronds deep in the jungle. Chan loved it (He was biased. He loved everything).

He’d also already ordered the “party hats”. Of course, they weren’t any regular party hats. If Jeonghan had been any regular person or a part of any regular family then maybe he would have done the regular thing. BUT he’s Yoon Jeonghan and decided that the “party hats” would in fact be Safari hats and made sure to order them in bulk early.

So now he’s pushing a cart through the crowded aisles of Michael’s with Jisoo balanced between his head and his shoulder, speaking animatedly through his cell phone.

“You invited the entire class and the soccer team?” Josh stresses. He wishes Jeonghan would have mentioned the number of expected guests before he signed on for this project.

“It’s not that bad. Not everyone will show up. You know how these things go.” Jeonghan shrugs his shoulder as if the other can see him, brushing off his questioning tone. He’s cutting his eyes back and forth between two very different styles of leaves. Leaves larger than his head surround him in the plastic flowers section. He picks up a handful of both under the guise that the jungle has many different types of plants. He doesn’t have to be climatically accurate. These children won’t be able to tell the difference when they’re maxed out on sugar.

“It’s Valentine’s weekend. Literally everyone is coming because parents are going to dump them for a few hours of alone time.”

“Oh… I forgot to get Valentine cards for the class. Thanx for the reminder.” Jeonghan answers, his mind drifting a few aisles down to where he remembers inflated, pink balloons and mega stuffed teddy bears. He considers getting one for Seungcheol. Seungcheol’s a lot softer than he looks.

“Hannie… This is going to be really expensive… Seungcheol does know all that you’ve planned right?”

“Yah! Stop scolding me. I’m a grown man.” Jeonghan feigns exasperation, but he bursts into a fit of giggles before he can finish. “It’s fine. I’ve been saving up. And don’t try and turn my husband against me. He’s very much so on board with me…” He mumbles after, “…sort of.”

“So on top of helping you set up, you’re calling me in to babysit too.”

“It’ll be fun. Your daughter and Chan can have a play date while we get ready and she’ll pretty much babysit herself at the party. It’ll be great.”

~~~~

Great is an understatement.

From the front of their home, much isn’t revealed to the expectant children being dropped off. In fact, the house is still difficult to find due to the 50 other ones built with the exact same model. What sets it apart are the shiny apple red and onyx black balloons tied to the mailbox and the sign hanging on the door saying, “Welcome to Jurassic Park”.

The kids are met at the door by Jeonghan (the responsible one who is actually paying attention to the doorbell) and are led through the simple living room, hopping along plastic dinosaur tracks that are set out. The sliding door leading to the backyard is opaque, covered in a dark backdrop, obscuring the view to the party happening just on the other side. But they can hear music and laughter and the anticipation balls up and rolls through their tummies.

When the door finally draws opens, it attracts them in like a beacon, beckoning forth the tiny adventurers into the wonderful world of dinosaurs. Joshua stands at the entryway with safari hats to hand out. It’s such a funny thing to see the kids blank, sensory spasms making it hard to decide what to avert their attention to first.

There’s greenery everywhere and it truly feels like their own little contained jungle. Wooden planks jut out on display with caution tape strategically draped over them; the fraying at the tips looks like they’d been ripped through. Beware posters tie in the setting.

A table is filled with snacks and foods all made to fit the theme. White chocolate covered pretzels transform into dinosaur bones, doughnut holes dusted with sugar mimic unhatched eggs. Pudding cups with dirt-like, cookie crumbles sprout miniscule palm trees and the tiniest dinosaur figurines. And there’s chicken nuggets! There’s a tyrannosaurus and brachiosaurus and some other saurus they still can’t pronounce. Seungcheol has the grill going and the smoke makes it look like a volcano has erupted in the background.

And is that… a bounce house? In the backyard?!?!

(Jeonghan may or may not have rented that one without Seungcheol’s knowledge but when the crew came knocking to set it up, there was little he could do to argue about it.)

And yes, Jeonghan will admit he outdid himself this time, but he was damn proud of his work. They all were impressed. “You should consider party planning. This looks great!”, his husband said in awe when he’d seen the finish product of Jeonghan’s creation. But with great power comes great responsibility. And responsibility brought big headaches.

The night before, he got the minimum amount of sleep preparing. Everyone helped, but once it got late, he coerced them into bed while his hyperactive, perfectionist mind fussed over the most minute details. He’d ended up finishing the goodie bags, creating labels for the food and pre-made all the snacks he could get away with. He’d hit the bed at around 4 a.m. and woke up hours later to get the backyard ready. On top of mild sleep deprivation, the inevitable over protective side of him resurfaced as the children ran freely, playing make believe. He was stressed™.

“You look like you need a nap.” Joshua sidles up next to him, poking his cheek.

“I just want everything to be perfect.” He admits with a sigh and a tired smile.

Joshua pans over the immaculate scene of their movie-set-ready layout. Seungcheol cooking on the grill as he nods along to the music, the kids—Chan cheesing so hard, letting forth such an innocent, unbridled laugh that breaks the heavens open to let pure sunlight spill down upon them.

Joshua thinks this is perfect. The party. Their family.

“You’re doing amazing. Everyone is enjoying themselves. You should too.” Joshua rubs his hand on his shoulder in a comforting manner. “I’m listening out for the door, go talk to Seungcheol and grab something to eat. Relax.”

Jeonghan takes his advice.

He opens his mouth to say something and instead gets it filled with a piece of meat hot off the grill.

“I just finished up. How’s it taste?” Seungcheol already knows the answer but asks anyway with a knowing smirk.

“It’s haa… Whew. It’s hot.” Jeonghan speaks around the beef burning his tongue. The flavor is savory, but when he says hot off the grill he means it in its entirety. “Yummy.”

Seungcheol kisses him on the cheek, pulling him into a side hug with one arm loosely around his waist.

“I can’t believe I’m really going to do this.” Seungcheol speaks after a minute of watching the kids play.

“It’s really adorable what you’re doing. They’re going to love it.”

“Sure hope so.”

“Hurry up and go! I wanna cut the cake.” He honestly doesn’t mind what time the cake gets cut. The younger brunette is finally starting to relax and knows that this portion of his day will be the most iconic. Although Jeonghan had planned the majority of this party, Seungcheol planned something of his own. And this one was a surprise.

“Oh no! Kids watch out!” Jeonghan shouts a warning to the crowd playing in the patch of grass. They all look up, startled and Jeonghan makes sure he has the camera rolling.

In less than a second, their attention focuses in on the person(?) standing by the sliding door. It’s…

A dinosaur?

They don’t move or speak for a second.

And then they hear a roar. The dinosaur darts out toward their huddle. They scatter, screaming like they’re being chased by an actual creature and not a grown man in an inflatable dinosaur suit. Screams melt into giggles and the laughter builds as the kids continue to run away from who they’ve now realized is just some clumsy person fumbling around in a costume.

Chan doesn’t know who it is until the dinosaur trips over its own feet, landing ungracefully in the grass. His yelp is distinguishable even between the screams and laughs and music.

“Daddy!” Chan runs up to the dinosaur, any possibility of him being afraid flying out the window. By the time Seungcheol finds his way back up, Chan runs into his legs with a tight hold. It sends the dinosaur back to the ground and soon all the kids are piling up on the lump of dino dad roaring unconvincingly.

Joshua and Jeonghan stand by each other, every single second of it caught on video. They’re holding their stomachs with how hard they’re laughing. He imagines this being one of those clips that end up on AFV.

It takes a while to get everyone to calm down. Eventually, they make it to the table to eat and sing happy birthday and share slices of cake. Pictures were taken. So many pictures. And the night ends with children slowly being picked up while they cuddle around the couch and watch the latest Jurassic World movie.

Right before Chan falls asleep, he pulls both of his dads in for a hug, an arm around the neck of each.

“Thank you for the best day ever.” He yawns with the same smile he’s adorned all day. Truly, it hasn’t left his face once.

Jeonghan thinks he can finally rest now. A successful weekend it was.

~~~

Finally got to posting the birthday chapter on here. Tumblr has... changed? There’s not a function to add a line to separate things anymore??? Oof. I’m on twitter now :) @eottoghe

[odogaronfang]

@atatfortatzelwurm @imaginefourswords

hi Tatlor!! i’m your secret santa this year!! you asked for brotherly red and vio so i made this, and it was super fun!! i love writing red and vio interacting they’re such Good Brothers

[also, since hyrule doesn’t have christianity, and therefore no christmas, i sort of came up with an equivalency- the Wintertide Gala, which is one of three holidays dedicated to the Golden Goddesses. Wintertide is dedicated to Nayru specifically.]

“Get up!”

Vio wakes up, but he doesn’t move. The temperature’s been well below forty for the past two weeks and under the covers it’s warm and he doesn’t feel rested in the least, and anyway, he doesn’t think it’s going to be anything important. They’ve been excused from most of their responsibilities in preparation for Wintertide, and there’s no reason why he shouldn’t make the most of it.

“Vio.” The voice is quiet and urgent- Vio thinks that whatever they want to ask, it may be something important, or perhaps time-sensitive. He rolls over and pulls the blanket over his face.

He hears a frustrated groan, and then feels them climb onto the bed, and then they grab the blankets and pull them as hard as they can (tearing them from Vio’s unprepared hands).

“Get up, Vio,” Red says, holding the balled-up bedspread like a trophy. “C’mon, we’ve got work to do!”

“No we don’t.”

“Saying we don’t isn’t gonna magically change things.”

“If I stay in bed long enough, maybe it will.”

“You promised.”

“I didn’t say what time.”

“Well, I did, and the time is now.”

“Five more minutes.”

“No, not five more minutes. Now. We’ve gotta go get breakfast before everyone else gets down there.”

“Why? Is eating a secret?”

“I don’t want anyone following us out! You know that!” Red grabs him by the arms and pulls him to sit upright, and shoves him when he tries to slump back into the pillow. “Vio. We’re going to town and you’re just gonna have to accept it.”

“Tired.”

“Impatient.” Red huffs and takes all the carefully layered blankets and pulls them away and throws them onto the desk. “We’ve been looking forward to this for months and I’m not letting you ruin it ‘cause you went to sleep too late last night.”

“Go yourself.”

“No. We agreed on this like two weeks ago and you’re coming if I have to take the fire rod to your butt to get you up.”

“Might be nice in this weather.”

“Vio.”

Vio gives a long exaggerated sigh, dramatically sits back up and rubs at his eyes. “Give me ten minutes and I’ll be down.”

Red leaves peaceably enough with that, with the stern warning that he’s counting the seconds and that he’s prepared to use force, and he makes one ‘I’m watching you gesture’ and closes the door behind him.

Vio does manage to drag himself out of bed and get himself dressed before Red comes up to yell at him. Red greets him all too cheerfully when he sits with a little plate of eggs and bacon and the biggest mug of coffee he could find.

“Didn’t know Arcy was up this early,” Vio says, poking at the eggs with his fork (he doesn’t usually eat so soon after waking up).

“She isn’t. I made it.”

“We could’ve gotten something in the market.”

“You’d complain about being hungry halfway there.”

“So would you.”

“Yeah, but you’d complain about not getting your coffee too.”

“I’ll complain anyway. Arcy makes the coffee better. This is burnt.”

“Burnt coffee?”

“It’s a thing.”

Red shoves him again. “Be grateful you have any at all.”

“I’ll be grateful when it’s good,” Vio says, and laughs when Red flicks a crust of bread at him.

Vio’s barely got the last crumbs off his plate when Red gathers all the dirty dishes in his arms and runs them to the washbasin and then starts tugging Vio towards the door.

“What’s the rush for? The market won’t even be completely open for another half hour.”

“We have to go,” Red insists, “I don’t want anyone knowing where we are.”

“Hm. That’s a little sketchy, Red.”

“You know why I’m saying that!”

“I feel like the two of us are going to leave and only one of us is going to come back.”

“Yes, Vio, I’m bringing you out to Castle Town to murder you. That’s why I wear red, so the stains won’t show up. Do me a favor and try not to bleed a lot.”

“Not a problem. My blood’s probably frozen anyway.”

“It isn’t that cold.”

“Oh, it’s freezing out there. You just don’t feel anything.”

“I feel some stuff, and I know that it isn’t as cold as you say it is.”

“You’re just used to it. The rest of us are suffering.”

“Well, that’s too bad.”

“So you are trying to kill me.”

“Of course.”

“Okay, just making sure.” Vio avoids the affectionate elbow Red tries to throw into his ribcage. “I always said you were the bag egg.”

“I’m horrible,” Red agrees. “Always helping Arcy with the cooking and rescuing stray animals and making babies smile and saving the world and-”

“Well, you share that last title with three other people-”

“Doesn’t change the fact that I still did it.”

“We all did.”

“Probably only because of me though. I was the star. When some half-famous historian wants to make a biography of us when we’re all old and wrinkly they’re just gonna name it after me and you guys are gonna be, like, background characters. It’s gonna be me saving you left and right.”

“And you crying.”

“I can do both,” Red insists sternly, and Vio has to laugh. “I did do both. So did you and the other two, I don’t care how tough you wanna act.”

“I didn’t deny it.”

“But you looked like you were gonna.” Red points at his eyes and then at Vio. “I’ll keep the three of you honest.”

“Only so you can laugh at us.”

“I’m your brother. I’m supposed to laugh at you.”

“That’s hurtful.”

“Oh, don’t you start with that.”

“I’m feeling very unloved right now, Red. Very hurt emotionally.”

“No you aren’t, be quiet.”

“Just piling it on,” Vio laments, “You just don’t care, you just keep on going-” He’s cut off as Red clamps an ice-cold hand over his mouth.

“Save your drama for the stage.”

Vio says something, or tries to, and skeptical, Red removes his hand from Vio’s mouth.

“You really are trying to murder me,” He says, and Red covers his mouth again.

“No talking until we get to the market.”

Vio does, for once, obey instructions, and doesn’t speak, and when they get to the market he still doesn’t speak, even when Red asks for opinions on where they should start.

“You’re allowed to talk now.”

Vio pantomimes zipping his lips.

“You’re the worst.”

Vio shrugs.

“Vio, I love you as a brother, but as a person I literally can’t stand you. You’re awful.”

Vio mimics a tear running down his cheek.

Red laughs (tries not to). “Well, okay,” He says, “I’m going to go look for gifts for them, and when they ask where your gifts are I’m just going to say that you didn’t get them any.”

Vio shrugs again, and waves his hand dismissively- they’ll get over it.

“Okay, Vio, seriously now. I wanna get back before they even know we’re gone. What do we get them?”

Vio, just to complete the charade, pretends to unzip his lips before he speaks (and narrowly avoids the punch Red throws him). “I have something in mind for Blue. I’m not sure about Green. Can we just get him food as a gift? Is that acceptable?”

“Probably not, and anyway, we should put more thought into it.”

“Okay, I’ll think about it some more.” He’s silent for a minute. “After thinking some more, I think that food would probably be good.”

“It won’t keep.”

“A gift certificate. Or a reservation to someplace.”

“Can we at least try to find something first? And the food can be a last resort.”

“Fine,” Vio says, “But I still think he’d like that most.”

“We can do both, can’t we?”

Vio makes a show of getting out his rupee pouch and opening it up and peering inside. “Bad news, Red. I’m afraid this thing isn’t bottomless.”

“Whatever, Vio. What’s your idea for Blue?”

“Well, since he’s recently developed a habit of knitting, I figure we might be able to get him some supplies of his own. Right now he just steals from the castle seamstresses, and I hear they’re getting pretty tired of not having any of the blue yarn left.”

“A surprisingly thoughtful idea.”

“See? There you go again, being hurtful.”

Red just sticks his tongue out at him.

The market is still sleepy, some of the stalls still closed and most of the open stores only barely so, but the little cozy homemaking shop is well open and has been for a little while now, and when they walk in it’s warm and smells like hot spiced cider (and a little like old wool).

There are two people working, an old woman wearing what looks like a hand-knitted shawl (the colors clash, but it seems like it was made with love), and a younger woman who might be a friend and might be a daughter.

It doesn’t take long: the store isn’t big and everything’s laid out very neatly.

“He’d like this place, huh,” Red murmurs, running a hand along the meticulously organized lengths of yarn. They’re arranged by color, and assorted with such delicate care that from across the store they seem to blur into one another.

“Maybe we should just… get him a gift certificate. Let him come here and enjoy it himself.”

“You and your gift certificates,” Red says, “Can’t you pick something specific out? Are you allergic to being sincere?”

“Fatally so.”

For all their mutual antagonizing, they do pick something out for Blue: a few spools of yarn, all shades of blue that seem to melt into one another, just like the displays (and a spool of slightly off-shade yellow, just to annoy him).

They go through practically the entire market in forty-five minutes, looking for something that might interest Green, but after a fruitless search, Red finally concedes that a gift certificate is probably the safest idea for Green.

“This doesn’t mean you won,” Red mutters to Vio as he hands over the rupees to the woman working the counter. “We just couldn’t find anything else.”

Vio is all smiles. “That’s winning, then.”

“Temporarily! Watch, after Wintertide’s over I’ll find something so great Green’s gonna forget all about the stupid certificate.”

“Green forgetting about free food? Unlikely.”

“My gift’s gonna be super personal and special and from the heart and it’s gonna be the best thing ever and you’re going to wish you were as good at getting gifts as I am.”

“But it’ll be late.”

“That isn’t relevant when it’s such a great gift that Green never asks for anything ever again ‘cause it’s so good.”

“That won’t happen. He’s a hedonist.”

“And you aren’t?”

“And you aren’t?”

“We all are,” Red says firmly, brooking no argument, “It’s a personality trait. Don’t argue with me or I’m not giving you your gift this year.”

“Twenty rupees says you don’t have it yet.”

“I haven’t had the chance to go out to get it! But I know exactly what it’s gonna be so don’t point fingers and say I’m procrastinating, ‘cause I’m not.”

“Sounds like procrastinating to me.”

“Shut up.”

Red employs Vio’s help in wrapping as well; Red’s fingers are half-numb from the magical strain the Rod puts on them, and if he wraps without someone to help then all he’s going to get is twenty paper cuts, a lump of crumpled wrapping paper, and frustration.

“So my gift is going to be in a bag, I assume.”

“No, I’ll just get Blue to help me with it.”

“And if he doesn’t want to?”

“I’m not above blackmailing. Or threats.”

Vio almost chokes on his laughter. “What are you going to do to him? Rearrange his clothing drawers?”

“Nah, I’ve done that one. When he saw shirts in his sock drawer he got so mad he didn’t talk to me for like three days.”

“You should climate-control his room. When he’s asleep just keep switching it between a little too hot and a little too cold so he has to keep messing up his blankets.”

Red folds over a flap of the paper and gestures for Vio to seal it. “That’s pretty good,” He agrees, “But maybe I’ll stick with too hot. I don’t wanna, like, actually do any damage, I just wanna piss him off.”

“I didn’t say cold cold. Just barely cool enough to require a blanket or two.”

“Yeah, but for Blue that’s like seventy-eight degrees.”

Vio shrugs. “It’s an idea.”

They finish wrapping up the gifts (Red has him help with the ones for their dad and a few of the other knights, too, and who is Vio to refuse) and then Red promptly kicks him out.

“Have to work on something,” He says, with a brilliant smile, as he shoves Vio out into the hallway and closes the door.

“Fine way to say thank you,” Vio says, mock-irritable as he stares at the door.

Red opens it just enough to peer out at him. “Give me fifteen minutes and then I can make us hot chocolate?”

“...Marshmallows?”

“Is there any other way?”

“I’ll be counting.”

[terriblelifechoices]

/jumps into the ask with the trope meme --- Holiday Fic + I Didn’t Mean to Turn You On ; Graves/Credence? :D

Hello, lovely friend!

I am still having heaps of fucking fun with the Fanfic Trope MASH-UP meme, so feel free to hit me up with prompts if you’re bored.  

My immediate ‘holiday fic’ idea was something to do with Christmas, because I think that’s where everyone’s brain goes.  And then I thought, no, I should do something different.

So I went with Fourth of July instead.

This is set in a very loosely AU version of Fantastic Beasts, in which the Barebone children are rescued, Newt is called in to deal with Credence’s obscurus, and Modesty follows Tina around like a little baby duck and wants to be a badass Auror just like her hero.  Graves is still a professional badass, when he’s not busy being a human disaster.  (Most of the time human disaster wins.)

Kind of follows this and this, from a previous prompt meme.

Graves hated MACUSA’s annual Fourth of July celebration.  He hated most of MACUSA’s annual parties.  His reasons for hating them were perfectly valid, and – no matter what Seraphina claimed – did not include the fact that he was a cranky old man with no sense of fun.

Graves was not old.  And there was nothing wrong with his sense of fun, thank you very much Madam President.  He just didn’t enjoy having to coordinate security on a beach while his nearly everyone he knew demonstrated a complete lack of common sense and decorum.  

Also, beaches typically had sand, and not even being a wizard was enough to keep sand out of places no man wanted it.  Graves was going to be pouring sand out of his shoes for weeks.

He’d set anti-No-Maj wards all along the perimeter and set teams of Aurors and Obliviators in the woods just in case.  Trying to sort out which Aurors and Obliviators could a) be trusted with perimeter duty, b) discrete and c) actually work together without descending into petty bickering over which department had the bigger dick was like trying to plan the seating arrangement for a fucking wedding reception, and with many of the same issues.  The Auror/Obliviator rivalry wasn’t quite as bitter as some of the extended family feuds Graves had witnessed over the years, but the arguments over who had stolen someone else’s beau were distressingly familiar.

Ten more minutes, he told himself.  He could endure ten more minutes of socializing with his increasingly intoxicated peers and then he could sneak off to relieve one of the perimeter teams for the rest of the evening.  Goldstein, maybe.  She and Theseus’ little brother had volunteered to take a shift, but they were young and might actually enjoy the party.

Graves wandered along the beach, exchanging brief greetings with the other party goers.  He caught sight of Seraphina, resplendent in an amethyst colored swimsuit.  Her hair was neatly tucked beneath a matching purple scarf, shot through with gold threads and neatly pinned in place with an elaborate wirework rendition of MACUSA’s eagle.  Her wand hung off a woven black belt, and she was wearing gold sandals that laced almost all the way up her calves.  Seraphina was always fashionable, even when she wasn’t wearing very many clothes.

Seraphina beckoned to him.  Graves swore under his breath and answered her summons, wondering if he was going to be dealing with his boss or his interfering best friend.

“Percival!” she said.  “You look ridiculous.”

Well, that answered that question.  Interfering best friend it was.

Graves scowled at her.  “There’s nothing wrong with how I’m dressed,” he protested.

“You’re in a suit,” said Seraphina.

“Linen,” Graves argued.  “In keeping with the spirit of the event.  Also, the weather.”

“You’re at the beach.”

“I was told linen suits were appropriate beachwear,” Graves said.

Seraphina pointed at him.  “Don’t you try and blame poor Tomas for this.  He probably tried to kit you out with a swimsuit, didn’t he?”

“I don’t need to go to my tailor for a swimsuit,” Graves said, avoiding the part where that was exactly what Tomas had tried to do.  It had had amethyst accents, which had been confusing up until Graves realized that it was meant to coordinate with Seraphina’s.  Graves frequently coordinated his outfits to match Seraphina’s, which neither of their tailors appreciated, but Graves suspected Tomas and Ariadne had settled into a cordial sort of mutual loathing over the years.

“Hah!” said Seraphina.  “He did.”  One corner of her mouth quirked up.  She was laughing at him, but she had the decency not to do it out loud where other people might hear.  “You could at least take your shoes off.”

Graves needed his shoes for later.  He was long past the age where traipsing through the woods barefoot sounded like a good idea.

It was easier not to argue with Seraphina, though.  Graves shucked off his shoes, made a futile effort at pouring the sand out, and then stripped out of his socks for good measure, balling them up and shoving them down into his shoes.

“Better?” he asked.

“Not yet,” she said.  “Take off your jacket.”

Graves sighed and obeyed.  He drew the line at letting Seraphina unbutton his shirt, swatting her hand away.  “Merlin, woman, what is wrong with you?  You’re going to give some reporter entirely the wrong idea.”

Seraphina made a face.  “Perish the thought,” she said, surreptitiously checking for reporters.  There were none in the immediate vicinity, thank magic.  “Credence was looking for you earlier,” she said.  “I thought he’d appreciate it if you were a bit more … casual.”

Graves froze.  “Has he said anything?”  Would Credence have said anything to Seraphina?  Credence was so polite; so careful not to give anyone even the slightest hint of impropriety.  It was hard to imagine him gossiping with Seraphina.

They were friends, though.  Credence might feel comfortable asking Seraphina questions that he couldn’t or wouldn’t ask the Goldsteins.

“Ah,” said Seraphina.  “No.”

“No, he hasn’t said anything, or no, you’re not getting involved in my love life?” Graves asked suspiciously.

“You’re such a damn Auror,” she muttered.  “No, I’m not getting involved in your love life,” she clarified.

“So he did say something,” Graves said, feeling a low curl of anxiety rise up in his gut.  What had he done wrong?  He’d tried so hard to be respectful of Credence’s boundaries – to not push for anything Credence wasn’t willing to give.  Had he overstepped somehow?  He was older and more experienced than Credence was.  Had he made Credence feel like he was pushing when he hadn’t meant to?

Shit.

“I need to find Credence,” Graves said.  He needed to fix whatever he’d done wrong.  He liked spending time with Credence.  He wanted to be with Credence any way Credence would let him.  Credence was extraordinary.

“Would you calm down?” Seraphina asked, exasperated.  “He didn’t say anything bad.”

Graves gave her a sour look.  “I thought you were staying out of my love life,” he said.

“I’m trying, but I actually like Credence, and I don’t want you to fuck this up and do something ridiculous because you’re panicking.”

“I am not panicking,” Graves grumbled.  He was, in fact, panicking, but he’d be damned if he admitted it to Seraphina.

“Sure you aren’t,” she said serenely.  She pointed out into the water.  “Credence is just coming out of the water,” she told him.  “You should go talk to him.”

“Um,” said Graves, suddenly very grateful that Seraphina had made him take his jacket off.  It hung loosely over his arm, and mostly obscured the sudden rush of blood to his cock.

Credence emerged from the water clad in a deep purple swimsuit rather like the one Tomas had tried to push on Graves.  Graves wished like hell he’d let Tomas win; he rather liked the thought of coordinating with Credence.

The color suited him.  Credence looked good in anything, but there was something about Credence in jewel tones that flattered his pale skin and dark hair.  The deep scoop neck of his swimsuit top showed off tantalizing hints of Credence’s chest.  His arms and legs were bare – well, they would be, for swimming, thought Graves – and his skin was sleek and wet and gleaming in the fading summer sunshine.

He was the most beautiful thing Graves had ever seen.

“Marie Leveau,” muttered Seraphina.  “Percival.”

Graves adjusted his jacket again, positioning it to cover his cock while he tried to think unarousing thoughts.  It didn’t work.  “This is all your fault,” he hissed.

“It is not!”

“Yes, it is!  I’m only at this stupid party because of you!  Also, you’re the damned president.  Why haven’t you abolished this stupid holiday?”

“Why haven’t I abolished the Fourth of July,” Seraphina repeated.

“Yes!  It’s a stupid holiday and we should get rid of it.”

Seraphina pinched the bridge of her nose.  “I realize you’re currently thinking with your dick, but are you actually listening to yourself right now?”

“Wizarding America doesn’t need another excuse to get drunk and throw a party,” Graves argued, because he thought that even when he wasn’t thinking with his dick.  “And don’t get me started on the fireworks.”

“It’s a national holiday!  For everyone, not just wizards.”

“Oh, because we’re so interested in adhering to No-Maj law.  Shit, he’s coming over here,” said Graves.  It was too late to flee.  Credence had already seen him.

“I am going to put this memory in a Pensieve and pull it out whenever I need a good laugh,” said Seraphina.

“You’re the worst and I hate you.”

“You love me,” she sang, cruelly abandoning him to his fate.

“Mr. Graves!” Credence said gladly.  He paused, looking over Graves’ clothing, lingering on the unbuttoned top two buttons of his shirt.

Graves wished like hell he’d let Seraphina undo more of his buttons.

“Percival,” Credence said.

Graves smiled at him.  “You never call me Percival,” he said.

“I never call you Percival when you’re on duty,” Credence corrected.  “And since you’re always on duty –”

“I am not,” Graves protested.

Credence gave him a profoundly skeptical look.  “Sure you’re not,” he said.

“Would you like to take a walk?” Graves asked.  He wanted to add, someplace far from here so I can ravish you but managed to resist the urge.

Credence beamed at him.  “I’d love to.”

They wandered away the beach, heading back towards the forest.  The sun hadn’t set yet.  People wouldn’t start sneaking away from the beach for a bit of privacy for at least another hour, which would probably liven things up for the Auror-Obliviator teams on patrol.  Graves had not yet discovered what it was about MACUSA’s Fourth of July celebration that turned perfectly sensible witches and wizards into woodland exhibitionists, but when he did, he was getting whatever it was banned from the party.  There was a reason he handpicked Aurors and Obliviators who could be discrete.

This close, Graves could smell salt water and the faint bergamot hints of Credence’s shampoo.  Credence’s hair had started to dry a little, and it made Graves wonder what it would look like damp with sweat from other exertions.  If the pretty flush on Credence’s cheeks would go all the way down his chest for Graves to chase until he got to Credence’s cock.

His own cock, which had mostly calmed down during the walk, heartily approved of that particular fantasy.

Stop, Graves thought, trying to will it back into quiescence.

Credence shivered, bringing his hands up to rub his arms.  “I should’ve grabbed my towel,” he said.

Shit, thought Graves.  Good manners demanded that he offer Credence his jacket.  A bit of personal embarrassment was nothing to Credence’s comfort.  He didn’t want Credence to catch a cold.

“Take my jacket,” he said, draping it over Credence’s shoulders before Credence could say no.

“Thank you,” Credence said.  His gaze flickered very briefly downward, and then he went bright red.

He did blush all the way down his chest, or at least all the way down the bits that weren’t covered by his swimsuit.  That knowledge did nothing to dissuade Graves’ erection.

Frankly, Graves was a little surprised he was still conscious.  Surely he ought to have passed out by now.  It had to be physiologically impossible for a man to remain conscious when all the blood in his body was either in his dick or in his suddenly bright red cheeks.

“I apologize if I’ve made you uncomfortable,” Graves said.  “I’ll leave you to enjoy the party, and we need not speak of this again.”  Assuming Credence wanted to speak with him at all after this.  “Or ever speak again, if that is your wish.”

“No!” Credence blurted, lunging forward.  He tripped over a rock and fell into Graves’ arms.

Credence was still cool from the water, the wool of his swimsuit damp against Graves’ thin shirt and pants.  And, unless Graves was having a very weird hallucination, he was also hard.  Graves could feel Credence’s erection against his hip, and it took every ounce of willpower he possessed not to align their hips so they could rut against one another properly.

“Are you alright?” Graves asked.

“Fine,” Credence said.  “Confused, but fine.  What are you apologizing for?”

“I’m really not sure anymore,” Graves admitted.  “I thought maybe I’d made you uncomfortable with –” he made a vague gesture, trying to convey with my completely inappropriate erection, because you are a gorgeous young thing and I am apparently a dirty old man without actually having to give voice to that utterly mortifying sentence.

“With your cock,” Credence finished, giving Graves a look that suggested he thought Graves had gone out of his fucking mind.

“Ah,” said Graves.  “That’s not exactly how I would have put it, but – yes.”  He resisted the urge to run a hand through his hair in embarrassment.  “You’re very beautiful,” he said.  “Which is not to say that this is in any way your fault, or that I expect you to do something about it, it’s just – I’m attracted.  To you.  Physically.  And if someone could please shut me up now, I’d take that as a kindness, because –”

Credence leaned forward and kissed him, temporarily stopping the flow of words.  Graves shut up and kissed him back, bringing one hand up to cradle the back of Credence’s head.

Credence rested his forehead against Graves’ when the kiss finally ended.  “How are we so bad at this?” he marveled.  “I didn’t mean to turn you on just now, but I’m very glad I did.  Because I’m also attracted to you.  Physically,” he added, in case Graves had any doubts about that.  

Since Credence’s erection was still pressed against Graves’ hip, he had fewer doubts about that right now than he might have otherwise, but it was nice to have verbal confirmation.

Graves kissed him again, shifting his hips so that they aligned with Credence’s.  Credence moaned and rocked against him, pressing closer to Graves.  Graves took a step back and tripped over the same fucking rock Credence had tripped on earlier.

They both went down in a tangle of limbs and cursing.

“We are really bad at this,” Graves admitted, laughing helplessly.

“Well,” said Credence.  “We’re already on the ground.  I hear this sort of thing is easier lying down.”

“Yes,” Graves said, rolling so he could press worshipful kisses down the glorious column of Credence’s throat.  “Yes, it is.”  He liked having Credence spread out beneath him like a feast.  He wanted to take his time and worship every inch of him, to caress him everywhere with his hands and his mouth until he was drunk with it.  He wanted to rut against Credence until they both came, messy and fast and fun the way this sort of thing ought to be.  He wanted to take Credence home and beg him to stay.

“Oh,” Credence breathed.  “That’s much nicer,” he admitted.  “You should keep doing that.”

“Of course,” Graves purred.  He got one hand under the shirt portion of Credence’s swimsuit and stroked his belly, feeling Credence quiver beneath him.  He was about to reach a bit lower when a shocked voice said, “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Graves sighed and pressed one last kiss to the Credence’s collarbone.  “I should have taken you home when I had the chance,” he said mournfully, and turned to face the wrath of Tina Goldstein.

[highland-gem-guardian]

The Price of Freedom

Prologue / Chapter One

2 years prior to the current day, a young Snapper couple experienced the happiest day of their lives months before an event that nobody could ever predict occurred. Word Count: 1771

Lore pinglist: @voidandstarlight @emordnilap-fr @fr-dew

The lighthearted bells of the small sanctuary rang in enthusiasm for the wedding about to take place.

Inside the small wooden chapel were at least a dozen of dragons of every size. They chattered excitedly about everything - from the great weather outside to the previous days goldmine of minerals mined to how adorable little Pelly looked as the ring bearer. The atmosphere was calm yet moving, as a day of passion and devotion should be.

The chattering was gradually hushed upon the appearance of an elderly Mirror to the crooked old organ in front of the rows of benches. With a quick stretch of his finned arms and a rather painfully loud crack of his fingers, he set to work waking up the tired instrument and forcing it to once again play the song of welcome, rejoice and love.

Smiling faces and well-meaning eyes moved over to the where the groom was now standing and awaiting his betrothed. The feminine folk of the service with their best silks and jewels whispered eagerly about his dashing outfit and his strong muscles. Meanwhile their more stout companions grinned at the groom from across the room, knowing all too well that a good night of mischief and partying lay ahead for most of them. His best man, a dark teal-coloured Guardian with a long but neatly tied up mane with a few straggled ends escaping down his face, also turned to smile softly at him. The best man leaned in and whispered quietly to the groom.

“Not long now until your freedom is gone, Hem.”

Hematite averted his gaze to his best man. He quickly flashed of look of warning to the Guardian as if to say “do not speak like that on my special day, I KNOW what I am doing” but on the outside he gave a forced hearty laugh and whispered back.

“Haha, I know man. She isn’t what you guys are used to. I know her for who she really is and that is the dragoness that I am marrying today. I would rather spend my life with her if it meant-”

His whisper was cut off by the sudden appearance of his soon-to-be wife down the aisle from where he stood. His mouth gaped in a mixture of awe and surprise, but he quickly regained himself and neatened up his posture for the ceremony ahead of him.

Meanwhile at the opposite end of the aisle, A timid young Snapper now hung around the door nervously as all eyes turned to her with soft gasps escaping from the lips of some of the silk-covered dragons. On her head was a fat, round desert frog. Everybody there knew she couldn’t do anything without the thing, but some people spoke lowly in disgust. The frog simply croaked.

Dressed in a fine guise of pale green silk, Emerald’s outfit of marriage was also adorned with beautiful yet simple copper jewelry. She knew of the psychic and healing abilities that came with the ore, and she hoped that it would put her soon-to-be-husbands worrisome mind at ease. As she began slowly making her way to her beloved with her dedicated friend Crag walking besides her slowly and an excited trio of Skydancer hatchlings skipping onwards in front with light giggles and flower petals all around, she felt a sudden surge filling the room from the bangles around her wrists. It felt like all had become calm and organised, like everything was in order and she was ready for anything that was to come up ahead. She was at peace. She only wished her partner was as well.

As she walked forwards, she heard the whispering of some of the guests. She took a deep breath as she attempted to keep the order from her heart in the room. Some of them still found a way to slip into her ears.

“She looks absolutely stunning! What a lucky man that Hematite is.”

“Pelly will be shouting out this news for the whole world to hear for the next year likely. Not entirely looking forward to it.”

“Such a lovely dress that is. I wonder who designed it?” A teenage pearly coloured Guardian draped in seashells gasped as her eyes gazed adoringly over the bride-to-be’s outfit.

“It’s such a shame they couldn’t be here to see this. They would have been absolutely delighted to see them two married at last. Let us hope they return soon.” She heard an unknown voice mutter from nearest to her, but never turned around to see who had said it or to realize it was meant directly for her.

Now joining Hematite at the altar was the officiant herself. The figure’s eyes were completely covered by a blessed veil of the Lightweaver Herself, yet she watched as the couple reunited and exchanged a few quiet words complimenting each others beauty before clearing her throat lightly and beginning the ceremony. The excitable Mirror at the organ finished his piece with a flourish and a big grin before slinking back to the side at the sudden stern look of the veiled Bogsneak.

“Friends, family and others who have gathered here today to witness the union of Emerald Turqvine and Hematite Phenaline below the skies and beneath the gaze of the Creators Eleven.” The figure, a soothsayer named Glainn, started the ceremony.

”You have been invited from near and far to offer your love and support to their union, and to allow them to begin their life of marriage surrounded by the support of those closest to them.”

Glainn took another moment to clear her throat again before continuing, her voice beginning to sound rather broken and hoarse.

“Emerald and Hematite thank you for your presence here today. They also wish for us to show remembrance for the loved ones who cannot be here to share this moment with them. To those people, may they be at peace in the Elevens service and care, they too hold dear in their hearts...”

Hematite noticed Emerald’s head droop slightly and knew who she must have been thinking of upon hearing those words. He quietly prayed to Tidelord for the wrinkly old soothsayer to hurry up and get to the vows.

“And now.” The croaky officiant had finally come round to the sharing of vows at long last. Hematite quietly sighed with relief, noting his partners giggle in front of him as she lovingly watched him.

“Hematite. Please take Emerald’s hand and repeat after me.” She spoke sternly to him after her speech of togetherness and devotion.

“Emerald, I take you as you are on this day as I love you for who you are and who you are yet to become. I am grateful to you for our love and for your life, I am to be patient with you and with myself, to fill our lives with adventure and our home with laughter, for our hatchlings to be birthed and grow blessed and healthy. To inspire you to grow as an individual and love you with my complete devotion. I pledge these before you in the company of our chosen friends and family.”

Hematite repeated after her with a sense of duty and happiness. He had wanted to tell Emerald all of these things for years now, but never had the words for it. Perhaps they got lost in his mind or his messy notebooks, or with the amount of stress on top of them both as they… No. Don’t think of that on your wedding day. Enjoy yourself.

“And Emerald.” Glainn garbled on. Both she and Emerald repeated after one another the vows. Finally the moment both of the young Snappers had been waiting for arrived.

“Hematite. Do you take Emerald to be your wife?”

“I do.” He spoke softly, his deep eyes never leaving the pale brown ones on the face of his almost-wife.

“And Emerald. Do you take Hematite to be your husband?”

“I do!” She squeaked a little from her nerves, causing a little giggle to escape from the audience that was quickly hushed.She blushed heavily and Hematite found his heart beating faster with absolute love for her.

“And now we shall present the rings.”

Finally little PelicanBill had his time to shine. He straddled over to the couple proudly, raising the eyebrows of the officiant and causing most of the audience to fall into a fit of giggles. He arrived at Glainn who promptly took the cushion where two beautiful rings lay and then proceeded to shoo little Pelly back to his corner with the rest of the children. He honked at her in petty annoyance before scooting back just in time to miss her hind foot.

The aging Bogsneak steadied herself and turned back to face the amused couple. Holding the ring cushion she continued the ceremony. Soon after the rings - a gorgeous drop of glimmering Jade for her and a deep, soothing drop of Lapis for him - were blessed and on the nails of the two lovers. Finally the ceremony concluded and with a relieved grin, Glainn spoke out to the audience.

“Hematite and Emerald, you have come here today of your own free will and in the presence of family and friends, have declared your love and commitment to each other. You have given and received a ring as a symbol of your promises. By the power of your love and commitment to each other, and by the power vested in me by Her Radiance The Lightweaver, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now share your first kiss as husband and wife. Congratulations. Friends and family, I now present to you the newly married couple. Please give your congratulations for the newly weds!”

The chapel erupted in applause and cheers as the married couple leaned in and pressed their lips together. Despite the sudden disappearance of the founder and the near collapse of authority, they were now all here still with their jobs, their homes and at the wedding of the two who stood up to regain control. After most of the audience gave their personal congratulations and left, Hematite and Emerald were finally left alone together in the chapel. They both hugged each other, thankful that their wedding went smoothly, and then got back to discussing business and their town in wake of the after-party tonight.

If there was one mutual feeling shared in the celebrations today, it was the feeling that things were finally looking up to the better and their peaceful lives would could go on as usual.

Oh, how good those mutual feelings of ignorance where back then.

[logans-chestnuts]

As You Are, Part 10

Pairing: Logan x Reader

Warnings: Language, Smut

Gorgeous artwork by: @giggleberts​

Part 9

You talked for a couple more hours before you forced Logan to go to sleep. Between the time difference, the stress of traveling and your emotional upheaval, he had slept very little. You also decided to take a nap since you hadn’t slept much either.

You talked about whatever came to mind. Your childhoods, schooling, religion, politics, and even jokingly argued over baby names, settling on Hermione for a girl (Logan was not a fan) and Thor for a boy (you were pretty sure he was kidding).

Kate called during Logan’s sleep-break and you updated her. She was worried for you, of course. You were honestly at peace. You just had an instinctive affinity for this man. He felt like he was meant to be, corny as it seemed.

You had been in relationships, a couple serious ones, one you had almost married in college. This was different. In a week you had reached a level of caring with Logan that you didn’t achieve in a couple years with another man.

You were pretty much in love with him.

The rest of Saturday and Sunday morning went like that, until you made Logan get some real sleep before he went to Aoki Monday morning. You gave him a wake up video call so that you could see sleepy Logan. He tried to seduce you and you declined.

“I can’t wait to see you, angel,” he said in his sexy morning voice with that sexy smirk.

“I hope you get everything wrapped up today. I need to feel you.”

“I need to fuck you,” he said with typical Logan candor.

“Yeah, that too,” you said with a laugh. “Except for me it will be almost making love.”

“Almost? I got upgraded again?”

“Yeah, love. You did.”

“I think you did, too. You’re beyond anyone ever before. But I think you were from day one.”

“You, too. Aren’t we gross?” you said with a laugh.

“Totally nauseating. I love you.”

You gasped, utterly speechless.

“Fuck. Forget I said that, I didn’t mean to tell you like that. I was going to buy you flowers and take you out someplace romant –”

“Logan!” you interrupted. “I don’t need all that stuff! I just need…you.”

“Need?”

“Need. Love, adore, lust for, like, want…that clear?”

Logan let out a deep sigh. “I didn’t mean to say it, but Y/N I mean it. I have never said it to a woman before. You’re it.”

“I said it once before. And I didn’t even know what the word meant. Until you.”

“I almost threw up when I said that.”

You laughed. “Thanks, babe. Just what every woman wants to hear. You silver-tongued devil, you!”

“You know what I mean.”

“I do, love, babe, boo, sweet cheeks, darling, honey, hot stuff.”

“Hot stuff?”

“Oh my God, so hot.”

“Yeah?” he asked with a giant, arrogant grin.

“You know you’re gorgeous and you know I think so.”

“But do you know you’re the most beautiful woman in the world? And I want you more than anyone ever?” he said earnestly. “And not just for sex. I want to talk to you and laugh with you and go places and…live my life with you.”

“This is so crazy,” you said, disbelief in your voice. “Did we just tell each other…did we just use the L word in a sentence?”

“I did. You just listed it with other words and left me to draw conclusions.”

“I love you!”

“There we go,” he said with a big, satisfied smile. “When I get home I’m going to tell you in person and then I’m going to show you in every way there is.”

“I can’t wait, Logan.”

Logan glanced down and saw the time, letting out a disheartened sigh. “I gotta go, babe. Get this shit over so I can get home to you. Get some sleep coz when I get home you won’t, OK?”

You laughed and said, “Promises, promises. Good luck, love. Have a great day and let me know what happens. Call me whenever.”

“Ok. Love you,” he said, his voice still a bit hesitant.

“I love you, Logan. Only you, always you.”

He smiled, blew you a kiss and logged out.

You spent the rest of the evening getting clothes ready for work and then went to bed early in hopes of losing sleep during the night when Logan called. He didn’t call until his now usual wake-up call, and his voice was filled with frustration.

“Babe, Aoki blew me off all day. He’s supposedly been in meetings. Something is fucking fishy and nobody will talk to me. I even tried to call my father and he isn’t in. I don’t know what to do.”

“Shhh sweetie it’s OK. We’ll be fine. I have you forever, I can wait another day to see you.”

“I’m tired of fucking waiting. I’ve waited my whole life.”

“Baby, I’m here. I love you. We’re we. OK?”

Logan sighed, but his voice was still tense when he answered. “OK. We can do this.”

“We can do this. You’re worth the wait.”

“You sure about that?”

“Are you sure I am?”

“Yes. Absolutely.”

“And so am I. Now stop asking fucking stupid questions,” you said with mock ferocity. “Logan, you will be home soon and we’ll be together. OK?”

“OK.”

“Do you have a meeting time at all?”

“No, his assistant keeps putting me off. If I don’t hear something first thing tomorrow I’m just coming home. I am not up for their fucking games,” he said angrily. “But you need to get ready for work, huh?”

You looked at your clock. “Yeah. I expected you to call during the night.”

“I didn’t want to wake you up with no news. I knew you wouldn’t go back to sleep.”

“That was considerate. Wanna see my tits?”

Logan gave an unexpected shout of laughter. “Thanks, babe, but I think this would be a bad time for me to be horny. Anger and lust are a bad blend for me.”

“I will remember that.”

“I’ll let you know if anything changes.”

“OK. I love you,” you said almost shyly, as if the numerous confessions of your mutual love hadn’t happened yesterday and you were saying it for the first time in fear of rejection.

“Hey, I love you, too.”

“It will be OK.”

“Bye.”

“Bye, love.”

You got ready for work and got into the office with a couple minutes to spare, shot Logan a text to reassure him that everything would be OK and put on some music to listen to while you got busy. You hadn’t heard back from him and were hoping that meant that he was having a late meeting with the businessman to clear up whatever issue had arisen with his work.

You heard the door to the office open and did your lean-check to see if the receptionist was in place, saw her chair occupied and went about your business, wistfully remembering the last time you had done that and been surprised with Logan’s embrace. You knew that was impossible this time and therefore went back to your work, unconcerned with the visitor.

“Y/N, could you come to the conference room?” you heard a few minutes later.

“Sure, be right there,” you said.

You grabbed a legal pad and pen, hopped up and went to see what your boss needed.

When you reached the conference room and stepped in, you saw the visitor for the first time. You smiled in greeting and said, “Hello.”

The visitor was a beautiful older woman. She looked to be in her forties, but her eyes gave her at least ten to fifteen more years. There was a calculating wisdom to them that a younger person just couldn’t have achieved.

She looked you over, sniffed with disdain, then said to your boss, “You may go.”

Your boss looked completely intimidated and left the room as quickly as possible.

“Sit.”

Not knowing what was happening here, you sat in the chair farthest from her.

“Now, Y/N, I don’t bite.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Ma’am? You are a polite little peasant, aren’t you?”

“Excuse me?” you said with your eyebrows raised.

“So you do have a backbone. How delightful,” she said with a vicious smile. She then slid a manilla envelope over to you and said, “Here. Have a look.”

You picked up the envelope, opened it and pulled out a sheaf of papers. As you looked through them, you found numerous grant requests that you had submitted to various foundations all over the city, and each one was stamped ‘Rejected.’

You looked up in alarm. “What is this?” you asked, confused. “Who are you?”

“Don’t you see the family resemblance, dear?” she asked with false kindness.

Then you saw it: the shape of her face, the willowy height, the high cheekbones. “Mrs. Delos.”

She merely nodded regally.

“Shall I take it you object to Logan’s relationship with me?”

“Relationship?” she laughed. “Oh, darling, Logan doesn’t have relationships. Logan has whores, and you’re merely the latest.”

You straightened your spine and said, “That may have been true in the past, but Logan cares for me.”

“They all say that. Did he use the, ‘I’ve never felt this way before’ speech this time? That’s a favorite of his,” she said as she saw that her words hit the mark. Of course, she was just guessing that he had said it because she suspected it was true. She had several other lies in place in case she missed with her first effort. This girl was different, and really seemed to love Logan. Angela would need to bring her A game.

“Now, I know how my son can be. You aren’t the first little mess I’ve had to clean up for him. Do you think you’re pregnant?”

You shook your head no, completely in a daze.

“So here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going on a vacation. You will have no further contact with my son, because I don’t want to have to pay for any more abortions.”

A tear slipped down your cheek. “No. Logan loves me.”

“Love?” she sneered. “Logan doesn’t know the meaning of the word.”

“Maybe because you never showed him.”

She smiled coldly. “Be that as it may. You will go on a vacation. You will have no further contact with my son.”

“I will until I hear this from him.”

“Then unfortunately your stubbornness will take down this company, your parents, your friends, your siblings. Delos is powerful. Do you really think one little nothing like you can take me on?”

“You’re that scared of me?”

She laughed in your face. “Make no mistake, I don’t fear you. I hold you in contempt and want you gone. You’re fishing in deep waters, dear. Best be sure you don’t get in over your head.

“Logan will never love you, and he will certainly never marry you. So, if this is your plan to land a big fish, I’m afraid it isn’t going to work.”

She stood and straightened imaginary wrinkles from her bespoke suit. If nothing else, Logan got his fashion sense from her. “Be gone by this time tomorrow. I don’t care where you go, but go for a month. Your employer has agreed that your 'work’ can be done remotely. I will let him know when it is acceptable for you to return.”

With that, she turned and left.

You sat in stunned silence, tears streaming down your face, sobs wracking your body. You didn’t know if she was lying and it didn’t matter. She had threatened everyone you cared about if you didn’t do as she said.

Logan returned your text, letting you know that after all this wasted time it was a simple misunderstanding that could have been cleared up in a phone call with anyone but Aoki. He was coming home as soon as he arranged flights and he would be wherever you were when he landed. Could you take a few days off work?

You sobbed as you read the messages, emptying your desk into a printer paper box. You needed to figure out where you were going to go for a month.

Janine and Rachel tried to find out what had happened but you merely went about your tear-filled business. Your boss stayed in his office with the door closed.

You finished filling the box with your career, not knowing when or if you would ever return. If Logan’s mother was to be believed, you would be able to return to your old life once Logan had moved on to his next whore.

Did he love you? You really searched your soul. You wanted to believe he could, but really, why would he? He was handsome, wealthy, powerful – truly a big fish. And you were…well, a peasant. His mother’s story made more sense than yours.

You went home to pack. You didn’t know where you were going but you supposed you would need clean underwear when you got there.

Part 11

@drinix @giggleberts

[custer-mp3]

long-ass general life update for you nosy bitches // tw: men, my bad legs

so boring to say i’m settling in but i am, i just wish there was something better to call it

there was somebody camped out in the back of the park across from our house down by the railroad tracks, on what we think is technically railroad property, and the parks department came today and tried to haul their shit away without a police order cuz “it’s just trash” no dude it’s a tent that’s someone’s home you leave it the fuck alone so Agatha screamed at them until they went away but then the cops came by & tagged it so now they have 3 days to move or the parks department’s allowed to come back & take their shit away

when we were trying to figure out whose site it so so we could reach out to them thru the drop-in center we noticed the tent was locked but had been cut open and the rain fly was ripped off and Agatha says it’s probably fine but it looked like somebody rolled their shit hella bad & i’m just worried about whoever it is, it looked like multiple people (or at least a guy and a girl) and i hope they’re okay like. physically

thanksgiving weekend launched me into the flare of the century i’m still not recovered from. i dared unpack my boxes of books yesterday (which were all small!! 6 free USPS boxes!!) and my knees had just. Had It. from that 20 minutes of activity. my wrists and elbows are flaring rly bad rn too & i had to buy ankle braces cuz my Achilles was already super fucked up from moving & like. whole body hurts.

i was limping around super bad at work--like unable to actually walk, just kinda toddling around in slow-mo if they needed me to move somewhere--and my manager made fun of me to my face IMITATING MY LIMP ON BLACK FRIDAY when i requested a break then my ASM and tenured keyholder ALSO made fun of me on Hell Saturday and i’m going to burn the entire store down

marina says report them to HR but that’s not very anarchist of me and i just don’t care enough to ruin their lives cuz it’s a temp job anyway and i can make it thru the holiday surely but it’s also like. i am the most able-bodied disabled person i know. i get more shit done in a day with 2 nonfunctional legs and fucked up arms and guts that are trying to escape my body and The Brain Fog TM than most people in full health do. if you’re being this awful to ME to my fkn FACE, ON THE CLOCK, how awful are you to “““actually disabled”““ ppl like out in the world on your free time

i just hate that there are no buses on sundays, no buses after 7, and i keep getting put on these dumb fucking late closes that mean either paying $15 for an Uber or walking the 3 miles home in the dark and the cold and some days i just physically Cannot with my Body and have to pay for the Uber which sucks ass cuz i’m making barely above federal minimum wage again

but i’ve been walking dogs and stuff with Kara. she’s got a hot friend who saw the picture of my halloween costume she threw in the groupchat and apparently thinks i’m cute and has been inquiring about my existence ever since so she asked me if she could give him my number and like sure bro i’ve met this dude exactly once AND I DIDN’T HAVE EYEBROWS ON AND WAS STANDING THERE RUBBING MY EYEBROW STUBBLE IN MY OVERSIZED SLIPKNOT HOODIE AND PAJAMA PANTS but i would like him to throw me thru a brick wall so sure but then he tEXTED ME and we set up a hangout which was supposed to just be coffee but turned into a whole-ass actual lunch date which like. worm. and made out in my living room cuz why not.

yesterday we hung out again (the coffee i was promised) and walked dogs with Kara in the cemetery and went to Kinko’s and the sketchy Halloween store that’s still open in fkn December and also made out, and then he was like “we should have an Actual Date For Real People” and i was like mfkr what?!?????? is that not???? no??????????????

so that occurred t o d a y cuz you can’t call me anything but efficient and spoiler alert, it was NOT a Real People Date, it was a fkn punk shitbag date, we definitely smashed then cuddled and tried to get Parsnip to interact with the other cat in a peaceful fashion and listened to Ministry and helped Agatha with the camp/park service situation and dealt with the cops when they showed up and had the aUDAciTY to park in front of our house to pull that shit then ran errands and cuddled and went to a Food Not Bombs meeting like. mfkr. that aint a date. that’s hanging out. how. is the prior 2 things with designated start times and wearing Nice Shirts and Going In Public Together Solo and shit not dates but tODaY was a date. fkn. WHAT

anyway he’s simple and sweet and hilarious and pro-SW anarcho communist and insanely hot and self-deprecating and i want to climb him like a tree but he too is divorced once over and we’ve Talked about it & it’s made me feel Better about my own shit & like. i want him to throw me through a brick wall and buy me food and leave me alone, and he’s in a non-monogamous relationship with one of Kara’s friends and his partner’s like “bro u need to date other ppl so i don’t feel bad” and y’know, that’s fuckin stellar imo. for me.

like what this whole fkn Ordeal has made me realize is i actually hate being in capital-R-Relationships. i do NOT want the pressure of being somebody’s whole world, i do not want the EXPECTATION of being solely responsible for somebody’s emotional happiness and well-being, i just wanna be friends with people and hang out and make art and occasionally make out and otherwise be left alone to do my own thing so this is like. rad as fuck. that this just sorta fell into my lap fully-formed and i didn’t have to do a bunch of screening and dealing with fuckboys and everything i was dreading abt y’know. finding someone to make out with in the midwest

and it was all because of my dumbass pun-based nu-metal halloween costume, which is the best thing that’s happened to me in decades, so. thank u jonathan davis

but i’m making friends--mostly thru Kara, but the other fellow new KH at work is the oldest person in the store (older than me by a couple years) and ALSO super into all things manson-adjacent and ALSO super queer and everything and has given me a ride home a couple times and i love her so maybe we’ll end up being friends in the long run too--and like living with Kara’s been good cuz there are always people around and she doesn’t mind me inviting myself on stuff sometimes so

there’s some sort of Krampus parade thing this Saturday in which for $2 you can actually be beaten with sticks and the squad’s going to that and we’re all doing FNB on Sunday and i know aforementioned dude is gonna be there but also so is his partner so like. that’ll be Inch Resting. but. we’ll survive. ‘we’  meaning me.

idk if it’s some sort of fucked up coping mechanism from coming dead last in my own monogamous relationships for uhhhhhhhhhhhh my entire fucking life but y’know. i kinda just feel whatever abt it!! like cool!! there is the dude i am fast friends with and def have a mutual crush on and am also currently fucking! and there’s the person he’s been dating for 3.5 years and owns a house with, and they’re a Thing!! and idk where i fit and what the vibe’ll be idk if the partner’s other ppl are gonna be there too so it’ll be weird fr all of us or it’s just me and like honestly how do y’all NAVIGATE i just don’t wanna make fkn heart eyes at the wrong time or NOT make heart eyes at the wrong time U FEEL ME

but also y’know what, whatever, fine. i’m like the least possessive person in the universe. like. i like that it’s all out in the open and people aren’t running around on me or anybody else. can’t believe this is my life, honestly. idk if the squad was conspiring on this or what cuz kara has terminal Nice Person disease but. good job fam. 

i was in a real dark place this time last week and it only got worse over Hell Weekend, like. feeling directionless / unmotivated / isolated / lonely / traumatized / failure. it’s really been hitting me hard that i’m [redacted] years old & getting d*vorced & back in a punk house in a city i’d never set foot in before & working the shittiest shit job in the history of shit jobs and i’m never gonna see this person that was my best friend for so long again (cuz, y’know, i know i don’t talk abt the Private Life on here very often/in very concrete terms ~~this post being the exception~~ but. we were Best Friends. for a very long time) & i’m officially losing this friendship that meant so much to me and does mean so much to me, because i do care about him as a friend. like. fuck him as a spouse, he’s terrible at that, but as a friend i don’t want to see him struggling. which is bullshit. cuz he was abusing me and my life was a living goddamn hell in VA. but it’s hard to let go of the basis of the whole goddamn Ordeal to start with, and it’s hard to reconcile My Friend Whomst I Adore with My Ex-Husband Who Triggers Me On Purpose & Reads My Instagram Messages & Has Been Blackout Drunk For Months & Won’t Let Me Have Space Even In My Own Office, and it’s hard cuz the only people i know who’ve gone through something like this are dead. and all of that’s hitting at once. and i can put up with a lot of shit but i cannot put up with feeling like a failure within myself. and shit was truly fucking bleak.

so the whole social life thing just came at a good time y’know & even if things otherwise aren’t going the way i want there’s at least one good spot in my life. i got friends, i’m getting out of the house, i figured out where the good cemetery is, people are buying me food & talking me through all of this & rubbing the shaved part of my head & i’m happy

kara’s got a dr’s appt tmrw AM & the dude is apparently our designated Responsible Adult With Car so he’s picking her up from that & will be in my house once again tmrw morning & i fully plan on hiding in my room and pretending to be asleep cuz fuck that lmao don’t make me socialize i was not emotionally prepared for that

hayden sent me a 1995 Marilyn Manson gig poster and an enamel pin of a jackalope wearing a cone of shame & honestly??? i do not deserve him, talk about great friends

we need to get a frame for the poster but then me & kara are starting a MM wall in one of our living rooms & it’s gonna be great. the dude’s gonna come over with a drill & help me hang shelves in my room some time soon so i can finish getting unpacked cuz i’m just down to the boxes of art and getting all my shelf crap squared away & then i can finally finish Unpacking For Good

me & kara cried on the kitchen floor together last night from laughter bc i still have not learned my lesson in How Much Soup A Bowl Can Hold and my lizard brain was convinced if i got the beans under the liquid it would all fit, which, spoiler--it did not, and all my makeup ran off my face. it was that good. i love her so much

anyway thanks for listening check out the distro so i can buy groceries until my food stamp paperwork clears which will probably not be for almost another goddamn month i’m so pissed

xo