#i know i’m gonna hate this drawing in a week so i’m letting myself have fun with it now and be dramatic about the little things

[supernaturalgirl20]

Hey! Your writing is stellar!

Could you possibly write about Joel and reader hating each others guts, but something like Joel almost dying brings the feelings out reader never realized. (Like angsty almost dying lol). she takes care of him and he sees how he does actually love her. It’s ends with them together. Vague i know haha.

Thank you!! xoxo

Thank you so much and I adored this request 🥰changed it up a little Hope you enjoy 😉

The Reason

Pairings: Joel Miller x f!reader

Warnings: Smut 18+, explicit, unprotected sex, soft love making, near fatal accident, mentions of death, hidden feelings, enemies to lovers (sorta), angst, cursing, fluff.

A/N: slowly getting back to writing this week so please bear with me on the requests. Didn't edit this so sorry for any mistakes.

Comments and reblogs really appreciated 🥰

Anger bubbled under the surface of your skin as you stood with your back against the door of the stables. The sound of his voice echoed through the air as he berated Tommy for asking you to join them. 

Who does he think he is? You think to yourself as you listen to him criticise you to his brother. Joel Miller was a force to be reckoned with and he had zero tolerance for anyone in the Jackson community except for you. Or at least you’d thought so, now you weren’t so sure. 

There was one night after a rough patrol where he’d shared a few drinks with you, and he’d opened up about his past. You had thought for a moment that maybe he liked you. Maybe you both could become friends or more, but now, you’re sure he hates you. 

“Now why the hell did you go and ask her to come with us? You know darn well that I ain’t gonna be able to concentrate with her there. Damn it, Tommy, I ain’t gonna be able to keep them both safe.”

With clenched fists you turned the corner and stormed towards him, his eyes widening when he spots you. “Who the hell do you think you are, Miller? Huh? Telling Tommy you don’t want me to come. It doesn't matter what you want, I’m the most experienced shot this place has so I’m more than capable of taking care of myself. Now I’m coming on this run whether you like it or not.” You huffed out a breath as you poked his chest with your finger, looking up at him with an angry expression on your face. 

“So, saddle up, cowboy.” You push him back slightly before grabbing your horse and marching out of the stables, leaving both Miller brothers confused as they stared after you. 

“About time you grew a pair Joel and told her the truth about how you feel. Save all this bickering. I mean it’s obvious as shit that you have feelings for her, so just man the fuck up.” Tommy says as he pats him on the back. 

Ellie scoffs behind them drawing both of their attention to her. She looks up and shrugs her shoulders at them. “Gotta say I agree with Tommy on this one. Life would be a lot easier if you just told her. Hell, it’s so fucking obvious she feels the same and I swear you two are just like horny fucking teenagers.”

“Alright enough! First of all, language,” he snaps as he points a finger in Ellie’s direction. “Secondly, what is this anyhow? Gang up on Joel day?” His gaze drifts between the pair and they smile at each other before they shrug, and Tommy says his goodbyes. 

“Alright, let’s get this shit show on the road,” Ellie teases as she winks at Joel and follows you outside. 

Joel watches her leave, his hands resting on his hips as he closes his eyes briefly and takes in a deep breath. This was gonna be a long trip. 

***

Things had gone to shit when you came across a group of raiders in a nearby abandoned town. They had wanted all of your supplies as well as you and Ellie but Joel was having none of it. 

He’d become a different man in the blink of an eye. A violent one and you can’t say it didn’t turn you on. He’d killed them all or at least so you’d thought until one of them had snuck up behind him and tackled him to the ground. 

They tussled for a moment before Joel straddled him and beat him to the ground. When he stood, he turned around to face you, his breathing ragged as he flexed his hands, his knuckles were bruised and bloody. His gaze drifted away from you towards Ellie who was busy collecting weapons. 

You let your gaze drift down his torso, and you gasped at the sight of a knife protruding from his abdomen. 

“Joel!” The sound of your worried voice catches his attention and his gaze flickers towards you. He follows your line of sight and groans when he sees the knife. His hand wraps around the hilt and pulls, blood spurting out from the wound, and he stumbles slightly as he throws the knife into the ground. 

“Let’s go.” His voice is commanding, leaving no room for argument. “Ellie,” you shout, “we gotta go.” You tilt your head towards her horse and rush over to help Joel up onto your own, placing him at the front. 

“Joel’s been hurt. We gotta find somewhere to lay low for a while.” You jump up behind Joel wrapping your arms around his waist as you grab the reins. 

You travel at a slow pace. Trying hard not to jostle him around too much but he’s losing a lot of blood, and fast. His head droops to the side, then his whole-body leans to the right and you try to catch him but you can’t hold his weight so he falls off the horse. 

“Ellie, stop!” you shout as you hop off the horse and check on him. He’s passed out. It almost appears as if he’s dead, but you run your fingers along his neck and check for a pulse. 

It’s there. 

Faint, but there and you let out a sigh of relief. Turning your gaze to Ellie you see the unshed tears in her eyes as she stares down at Joel. “He’s gonna be ok. I need you to help me lift him back onto the horse. Those houses over there,” you say with a tilt of your head. 

“We’ll stop there for now. Try to close over his wound.” She nods at you before helping you lift him. It’s a struggle but you manage all the same and you take a hold of the reins as you guide the horse along the trail. A silent prayer recited in your head that he’d be ok, that he’d make it through this. 

***

Joel is laying on the mattress you’d found as Ellie rips off a piece of cloth to hold over his wound. He groans loudly and you drop to your knees beside him pushing Ellie out of the way and putting pressure on his abdomen. He writhes in pain for a moment before he grabs your hand. 

“Leave.” He rasps, his breathing becoming more laboured with each breath. You shake your head as you continue to put pressure on the wound. 

“Leave. Go north…. Tommy,” his grip on your hand tightens and you finally meet his gaze. “No. I’m not leaving you. Don’t - don’t ask that of me…. I can’t.”

His skin is clammy and pale, and your heart feels like it’s being ripped apart. You can’t lose him. Not now. 

“Ellie.” Your gaze drifts towards the teenager and she’s standing still, face full of worry as she stares down at Joel. “Ellie,” you shout, grabbing her attention. 

“You need to go and look for medical supplies. Bandages, gauze, needle and thread, anything. Now, Ellie.”

She looks down at Joel one last time before she rushes up the stairs. He groans again, his eyes full of pain as he stares up at you shivering. 

You pull his jacket up over him before cupping his cheek in your hand. “You’re gonna make it through this. I promise.”

You stand up and quickly move across the room to grab your bag, rifling through it until you find what you're looking for. Pills in hand you pull out a bottle of water and drop to your knees again.

Gently, you lift his head and place the tablets in his mouth before bringing the bottle of water to his lips. “Drink. These will help with the pain.”

He obeys with a groan, swallowing the pills before you rest his head back on the mattress. “I gotta clean this, Joel. I’m gonna…. I gotta clean the wound, ok?”

He nods his head, his body trembling as he shivers uncontrollably. You pop open the bottle of alcohol and take a deep breath before you remove the jacket and lift his shirt. 

Your hand shakes slightly as you stare at his stomach for a moment - the wound bloody and bruised and jagged looking - before you snap out of it and pour the alcohol over it, causing him to hiss in pain. 

“I know, I know…. I’m sorry.” You turn your head at the sound of Ellie’s footsteps coming down the stairs. “I found this,” she says as she hands you a needle and thread. Her eyes widen at the sight of his stomach, and you cradle her cheek in your hand. 

“He’s gonna be ok. I promise you. Now I need you to hold him down because this is gonna hurt like hell.” She nods her head and rushes around to kneel beside Joel, placing her hands on his shoulders. 

His eyes stare up at her and he gives her a faint smile before his gaze drifts to you again. You pull the thread through the needle and tie it off before sterilising it with the alcohol. You meet his gaze and nod before taking a deep breath and pushing the needle through his skin. 

He groans loudly, reaching his hand up to grab at your arm. He turns his head away from you, shutting his eyes tightly as he tries to hold in his cries, Ellie pushing down on him to stop him from moving. 

The needle falls to the floor once you’ve finished sewing him up and you sit back on the ground staring at your shaking hands. They were covered in blood. His blood and the fact that you could’ve lost him today stirs something inside you. 

Feelings that you didn’t think you had. Not for him. Sure, you thought he was handsome, that he was a good father to Ellie, but he hated you. So, you hated him. At least, that’s what you tried to convince yourself. 

It was all too much. These feelings, and the way he was looking up at you made your chest hurt. Standing, you rush up the stairs and out of the house, trying to take deep breaths. 

“He is asking for you.” Ellie’s voice startles you and you whip your head around taking her in. 

“I’m just gonna check the other houses for medicine. I’ll be back.” She takes a step forward but you shake your head. “I just need a minute, ok? Tell him I’ll be back.”

***

You’d taken your time, routing through the other abandoned houses trying to stall time as best as you could until you sort through your feelings. 

It became clear around the fifth house that you had maybe always loved Joel Miller, you were just too stubborn to notice. It was also in that house you’d found some penicillin. 

The creak of the stairs alerted Ellie to your presence, and she turned quickly, gun pointed in your direction. With a sigh of relief, she lowered it and stood, taking a glance at Joel before meeting you. 

“He was worried about you. Tried to go after you but I wouldn’t let him. He’s asleep now but he keeps shaking and I think he has a slight fever.” 

With a nod of your head, you brush a strand of her hair behind her ear. “There’s some canned food in the kitchen, you should head on up and get something to eat. We’re gonna be here for a while.”

“Ok, I’m starving. Want me to get you some?” 

“I’m ok for now. Just don’t make too much noise. We don’t know if there are others in the area.” You let her go and turn your attention to Joel, who is laying in the same spot, shivering despite the heavy coat and blanket covering him. 

You run your fingers through his hair, and he groans at the feeling of your touch. Pulling away you reach for the bottled water and grab one of the antibiotics before gently stirring him awake. 

“Hmm,” he groans as his eyes slowly open, glossed over in pain as you smile softly down at him. “Hey, I’ve got some antibiotics. They should kill any infection even if they are out of date.”

Joel lifts his head enough for you to place the pill in his mouth and help him take a sip of water. Swallowing the pill, he drops back onto the mattress and looks up at you longingly. 

“Was worried…thought somethin’…couldn’t live without you….” His hand reaches out towards you as he traces the soft curve of your face. The feel of his rough calloused fingers on your skin sets your heart racing. 

“I’m ok. Ain’t nothing gonna happen to me. I learned from the best,” you say with a laugh as you nervously meet his gaze. 

“I’m gonna get us some food, I'll be right….” You start to say but he shakes his head. 

“No. Stay. Please.” His eyes are wide as he begs you to stay, shuffling around on the mattress as he tries to make room for you. 

“What are you doing, Joel?” You ask, raising your eyebrows in question. He pats the space beside him indicating that he wants you to lay with him. 

“What if I hurt you?” You ask as your eyes drift to his blood-stained shirt. “Won’t,” he breathes out as his eyes begin to droop closed. He’s still shivering slightly, and his skin still looks pale and clammy and you don’t have the heart to say no. 

With a reluctant sigh, you remove your jacket and slip in beside him, making sure you’re both covered by the blankets. His arm is wrapped around you as you rest your head on his chest and the soft beating rhythm of his heart lulls you to sleep.

***

“No….no please not her….can’t lose her….no, no…” Joel muttered in his sleep as his head tossed around, his grip on your waist tightening. 

He was having a nightmare. 

Sitting up a little, you gently place your hand on his cheek, your thumb rubbing soothing circles into the rough surface of his face. “Joel,” you whisper, trying to wake him without startling him. 

“Hey, Joel, it's ok. Wake up.” His eyes snap open and he panics until his gaze lands on you and his breathing slowly calms. 

You gaze down at him with a soft smile on your face as you continue to rub his cheek. “You were having a nightmare. Are you ok?”

His eyes take in the features of your face as the moonlight shines through the small window of the basement. “M’fine. Thought I - thought I lost you ....” He trails off as he slowly realises what he’s saying. 

His face has a little more colour to it and you swear you see the hint of a blush on his cheeks. 

“I’m here. I’m fine. It was just a bad dream, probably induced by the fever,” you giggle as you place the back of your hand on his forehead. “Seems to have broken, finally.”

“I know you heard what I said to Tommy.” He says matter of factly. “I know you think that I hate you….”

“It’s fine, Joel. You don’t have to explain anything. That’s just life. You like some people, you hate others. It is what it is.” His eyes furrow as he looks up at you, a confused look taking over the features of his face. 

“I don’t hate you. Never have. Don’t think I ever could. It's a bit hard to hate someone you’re in love with.” 

“What?!” You stutter nervously, your eyes blinking rapidly as you swallow the lump in your throat. 

“I love you darlin’. It’s the reason I didn’t want you to come on this run. I’m distracted when you’re out on patrol with me, I knew I’d be the same with this, it’s why I begged Tommy to reconsider letting you tag along. M’sorry if I ever made you feel like I hated you, 'cause I don't.”

You don’t know what to say. The words won’t form in your mind as you stare down at him in shock. He loves you. Your heart thrums loudly in your ears and you think for a moment that you’re gonna pass out. 

“You alright, darlin?” The sound of his Texan drawl, soft and low, breaks you from your trance. 

“Hmm? M’fine. I-I think I love you too.” His eyebrow quirks as a smile edges its way onto his face. “You think?” He teases. 

You nudge him in the chest, and he groans, holding his side and you panic you’ve hurt his stitches. “Oh my god! I’m so sorry Joel. I completely forgot,” you rush out, voice panicked as you lift his shirt to check. 

The sound of his laughter pulls your gaze up towards him. “Oh, for god's sake,” you huff as you turn and begin to push yourself off the mattress. His hand reaches out to grab your wrist, pulling you back into him. 

“M’sorry, darlin’. Couldn’t resist.” His hand slips up along your curves and settles on your face, his gaze meeting yours. His eyes flicker briefly to your lips, and you unconsciously lick along your bottom lip, pulling it between your teeth. 

“Will you two just kiss already? Jesus.” Ellie’s voice sounds from the top of the stairs. You both burst into laughter before he leans forward and captures your lips in a searing kiss.

His lips are a little rough, the feel of them against your own causing a shiver to work its way down your spine. He still tastes of whiskey he had earlier, and you want nothing more than push him down and fuck him into the mattress but you don’t. Instead, you pull away and rest your head against his, calming your racing heart. 

“We should get some rest,” you breathe raggedly as you blink down at him. 

Nodding his head, he kisses you softly once more before laying back on the mattress and pulling you with him, wrapping you up in his arms. “G’night, darlin’.” 

***

The gates open and Tommy comes rushing out with a worried expression on his face. “What the hell happened?” He asks, his gaze drifting from Joel to you as he waits for someone to tell him. 

“Long story,” Joel answers as he looks over at Ellie, a silent communication happening between them. Tommy huffs in frustration. “You’ve been gone for days. We thought - we thought you’d been killed or worse. Fuck!”

Joel slowly hops off the horse and makes his way towards his brother, clapping his hand on his back. “We’re alright, Tommy. Ain’t nothin’ to worry about. We’re just tired. Gonna need some more sleep and a decent meal.” 

Tommy nods his head, his eyes drifting to both you and Ellie. “Sure. How about you all head home and I’ll have Jason drop the food over.”

“That sounds amazin’ little brother. You’re just gonna have to have Jason drop Y/N’s food over to my place.”

Tommy's face freezes in shock before a sly smirk plays across his face. “Oh yeah. Somethin’ happen while you were out there?” He asks Joel, his voice almost a whisper so only he could hear. 

“Gentlemen never kiss and tell, Tommy. You should know that.” He smacks him on the back hard, winking at him before he turns and grabs his horse. Tommy knew something had happened from the slight blush on your cheeks. He’d get it out of Joel eventually. 

***

The room had been filled with silence as you all ate the dinner that Jason had brought over. The only sound to be heard was that of your forks and knives scraping off the plate. 

God, you hadn’t realised how hungry you were until the smell of the food hit your nose. The loud growl of your stomach made Joel smile as he finished setting the table. 

“Fuck that was good,” Ellie says as she sits back in the chair, hands resting on her now full stomach. 

“Manners,” Joel chastises as he pushes his plate away from him. 

“She’s not wrong though,” you say with a smile as you place your knife and fork on the plate and release a contented sigh. Joel hums in response as he lets his gaze wander over you both. 

He never thought he’d have this again. A normal life. A steady home. A family. Now that he does have it, he’s not too keen on letting it go. With the clearing of his throat, he throws Ellie a look, his eyes shifting towards the front door, and it only takes her a second to realise what he’s saying. 

“I’m gonna go meet up with Dina. Don’t wait up ya old fart.” She says with a laugh as she grabs her coat and slams the door behind her. 

“So…I guess I’ll help clear up and then I’ll let you get some rest.” You stand, the chair scraping across the floor as you grab your plate and make your way into the kitchen. 

You turn the tap on and begin to wash up when a set of arms wrap around you from behind. You startle. A soft gasp slips past your lips as Joel turns you slowly in his arms. 

You gulp nervously as you stare up at those golden-brown orbs. Your heart beats frantically at the feel of his touch. “Was thinkin’ maybe you could stay the night. I’ll make you pancakes and coffee in the morning.” 

His eyes are hopeful as he waits for you to say something. “Are you trying to seduce me, Miller?” You tease as your arms come to rest on his chest. Your fingers playing with the buttons on his shirt. 

“Is it workin’?” He says with a smile, his arms pulling you closer. 

“Maybe. Might need you to kiss me though, to make sure.” A smile plays across his face as he leans in and kisses you softly. You tease his bottom lip with your tongue, and he groans into your mouth, his fingers digging into your hips as he grinds into you. 

His cock hardens against you, and he groans when you run your hand down along his stomach and under the waistband of his jeans, cupping him with your hand.

“Fuck,” he breathes as he pulls away, forehead resting on yours. You run your fingers along the back of his neck and through his hair. “Need you,” you whisper into the shell of his ear, and he shivers. 

“Jesus, darlin’. You’re gonna be the death of me.” He grabs your hand from his trousers and leads you out of the kitchen and up the stairs towards his bedroom, where he kicks the door closed behind him as he walks you back towards his bed. 

He’s hungry for you. His eyes were blown wide with lust and you’re sure he’d have ravaged you by now if it weren’t for the fact that he’s healing. 

You pull him in for another kiss and let your hands glide over him as you begin to unbutton his shirt. Throwing it onto the floor before starting on his trousers. 

His rough calloused fingertips glide along your skin as he helps you remove your clothes, your breath hitching as they slip between your slick folds. 

You gasp. His mouth swallows the moan that follows as he kisses you softly. Pulling back his eyes trail over your naked form and when your gazes meet, you see nothing but adoration in those brown eyes you love so much. 

“How do you - how do you want to do this?” You ask as his hands grab onto the soft flesh of your ass. “Better take it slow for now. Don’t wanna burst a stitch,” he says with a smile in his voice. “Lay on your side, darlin’.” 

Doing as he says, you lay on your side, his warmth filling all your senses as he slips in behind you. You let out a breathy moan as his fingers delve into your heat once more, his hardened cock nestled snugly between your ass cheeks.  

“Oh fuck,” you whimper as he works his thick digits in and out of you, curling them ever so slightly as he hits that spot that sends you spiralling. 

Your skin is flushed. Sweat beads down along your breasts as he pinches your nipple between his forefinger and thumb. A shiver skitters down your spine as he whispers into the shell of your ear. 

“Ready for me darlin’?” 

You nod, “yeah- yes, fuck I’m ready please,” you whine as he runs the tip of his cock teasingly along your slick. “Joel…”

“Tell me what you want, baby.” 

“Need you inside - need you to fuck me, please.” With the head of his cock notched at your entrance he thrusts inside with a roll of his hips and you both let out a soft groan as he fills you. 

“Jesus, darlin’. So damn tight…fuckin’ squeezing the life outa me.” He takes a moment, closing his eyes and taking in a deep breath as he tries to control himself. His lips meet the skin of your neck as he peppers kisses along it, his hips moving slowly in tandem with his lips. 

It’s soft and slow. His hands glide over your skin, pinching and pulling as you moan softly into the room. Your body shudders as you come, your clit already sensitive from earlier. 

A soft cry slips past your lips as you reach behind to run your fingers into his hair. His hips stutter as he nears his release, the soft grunting in your ear becoming louder the closer he gets. 

“Ngh…fuck,” he groans as he quickly frees himself from your walls, spilling himself over the soft pillowy flesh of your ass. 

“Don’t move, darlin’.” He says as he slowly slips from the bed and grabs a piece of cloth to clean you with. He works it gently over your skin before throwing it into the basket at the end of his bed. 

The cool air makes you shiver involuntarily but Joel is quick to hop back into bed, slipping beneath the covers and pulling you close. 

 “I love you, darlin’,” he whispers into the crook of your neck and you can’t help the smile that works its way onto your face. 

“Hmm, I love you too.” He squeezes you gently before his breathing evens out and he falls asleep.  It’s safe to say that Joel Miller definitely doesn’t hate you. 

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[aleeyenn]

HII GUYSSS life update … school ends in almost two weeks! AH!!! next year is my final year of grade school… so scary but also SO exciting SCHOOL ISNT GOOD FOR MEEE😭i have very poor work abilities … ACTUALLY PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF IM THE ONLY ONE WHO FEELS LIKE THIS: the more i stress out about something the less i wanna do that… IS THAT JUST A ME THING? i kinda hope so so no one else has to deal with the most horrible demand resistance and stress ever but i also kinda hope not so i don’t feel alone…

but ASIDE FROM THAT … IM REALLY SCARED FOR MY DRAWING ABILITIES! recenrly i haven’t been drawing and it makes me really sad that i haven’t been but i’m pretty sure i haven’t been able to bring myself to doing it BECAUSE of my stress… that’s not the only reason tho IM WORKING AS A CARICATURE ARTIST THIS SUMMERRR😭 i really didn’t wanna but that’s the role i was put into… i feel horrible doing it BUT I NEED THE MONEEYYY AAGH but i’m worried for it because it hurts my hand to do it cuz i have to press so hard and drawing people for six hours every day might drain me from wanting to draw my own stuff… admittedly tho i do think my training for it has sharpened my facial analysis skills and line-tidy-ness but it makes me feel TERRIBLE. thankfully i’m only gonna do this over summer and i have no plans on returning to it next year LOL but i am sure i’ll be able to do something? somehow to allow myself the freedom and time and space to create my own work… all my own work is bfdi stuff HAHAHA minus school art assignments

but yes.. the meaning of talking about this here was to explain why i have been so slow with art… IM SORRY i hate it too… it’s really frustrating actually to be drained so much from something that determines a huge portion of your future But that’s just how it’s gonna be i guess… wish me luck on the last couple weeks of school!!! also my birthday is officially in five days (may 29)!!! YAAAYYY ILL BE 17!!! i’m really looking forward to it HEEHEE okay THANKS FOR READING

TLDR; i haven’t been drawing due to school stress and i am worried my summer job will continue my lack of drawing further (But i am hopeful i will work something out)

[physalian]

The thing about all the ‘how to stop writer’s block’ advice on here is that sometimes writer’s block is a good thing. I haven’t read every bit of advice out there on it and I’m sure someone else has brought it up, so I’m recirculating it.

I try to treat writer’s block like sore muscles after a workout. A little soreness is great, shows you pushed a little harder than you’re used to, and those hurt muscles will heal stronger. Push too hard though, and next thing you know you’ve torn a hamstring or got an RSI, and you now have to wear a knee brace for six weeks because you pushed too hard, undoing a lot of your work while you couch potato around so you don’t exacerbate the injury.

That’s kind of like writer’s block, at least for me. If I’m trying to shove my way through it and force myself to write, 99.9% of the time whatever ends up on the page I’m going to hate and delete later.

Which is where I’m at with ENNS’s sequel. So I switched gears and wrote some fanfic. Then got frustrated with that, so I started drawing, then inspiration hit so I finished writing the fanfic and added a third part. Meanwhile, simmering quietly in the background, I’m sure some epiphany for ENNS will come to me, when it’s ready. I’m not staring down a self-impposed deadline anymore so it can take as long as it wants.

I don’t think you can deplete your ‘creative juices’ reserves forever. It’s okay to take a break and let the writer’s block in, do its job, and come back when it’s gone. Otherwise you’ll be practicing bad habits and get into a ‘I’m a terrible writer’ mindset and that’s no good either.

Just try to treat it like your brain muscles going "push me any further and we're gonna get seriously hurt" and let them rest, and they'll probably come back stronger, if not with a fresh perspective, at the very least.

[leezlelatch]

Copia x Reader: Cuddles with Papa

GN! reader, pre-relationship, comfort, friends to lovers, 1k words. @writingjourney

From the moment you walk into Copia’s apartment, you don’t need to see the tightness of his shoulders or the furrow of his brow to feel the tension in the room. He greets you with less exuberance, guiding you to his couch where as always, various snacks are spread all over the coffee table. You take your customary seat on the left side as he drops heavily onto the right, his hand grabbing at the remote to start the movie.

“Hey Copia?” You start quietly. He turns to you with a strained smile. “We don’t have to do this tonight if you don’t want to?”

Copia pauses the film, hardly past the opening credits, and turns his body toward you. His eyes are wide with anxiety.

Oh, eh…did you not…? I’m sorry, dolce, do you want to leave?” He looks lost.

“No!” You’re quick to reply. “I just…you seem upset. On edge? I just don’t want to take up your time if you need to relax or sleep.”

Copia sighs and leans into the couch, groaning into the fabric. He rubs his forehead into the cushion, his hair mussing and sticking up.

“Ah, shit,” he grumbles. “Sorry, sorry.”

“You can talk to me about anything,” you offer.

Copia peeks over at you between strands of brown and gray hair, searching your face for several seconds. He sits back up and runs a hand through his hair before rubbing both palms against the tops of his legs.

“This has been a hard week,” he admits. “Ya know, with the record company demanding a new EP, all these…,” he waves his hands in the air. “All these expectations, yeah? I feel, I don’t know, I guess I feel not quite myself like…like they’re gonna realize I’m not meant to be Papa.”

Copia lets out a shuddering breath, looking down at his fingers which pick at the skin around his fingernails.

“If there’s one thing I know for sure, it’s that you’re a *great* Papa,” you begin. Copia lets out a huff of disbelief, not making eye contact. You grab his hands to stop his picking, his eyes finally darting to yours. “It is okay to feel stressed. It is okay to need help or reassurance. You do so much every day to make sure we are happy and safe here, and I am so, so grateful. This is such a hard job, but you do it so well, and I’m proud to call you my Papa.”

Copia’s lips part, his trembling fingers tightening around yours as a rush of air leaves him. His eyes are wide and glassy, staring at you in awe before he begins to blink them rapidly, opting to close them fully as he attempts to calm his racing heart and the tears threatening to bubble over. You tighten your hold on him as well, scooching closer until your knees are almost touching.

“Th-thank you,” he gasps. “Non hai idea do cosa significhi per me.” He opens his eyes and leans forward, just looking at you. His eyes linger on your lips, your cheeks, he memorizes every color reflected in your iris. “Even if the entire congregation hated me, I would work twice as hard for you, Tesoro.”

“Copia,” you say softly, smiling with a blush that overwhelms you. You look down at your joined hands, smiling even harder. You hear him chuckle quietly as his thumb draws circles on the skin of your hand. “I mean it, all of it,” you finish.

“I know you do,” he releases a hand to tilt your chin up. “Your Papa feels so happy now.”

You smile at each other like dopey teenagers before you notice one of Copia’s rats attempting to steal away with a chip. Copia shoos the little thing away, laughing light heartedly before turning back to you.

“Do you want to continue the movie?”

“Yes!” You say, letting go of his hand to grab a piece of candy from the dish on the table.

Copia doesn’t move to turn the movie back on, and you glance over at him to see him staring at his hand, a troubled look on his face.

“Are you okay?” You ask, concerned.

“Uh…si! Si. I just…” He looks at you and back to his hand and then at you again. “It’s cold in here?” It comes out as a question and he grabs the blanket over the back of the couch to spread it across his lap, fiddling with it while looking quite distressed.

“Is something wrong?” You prompt again.

“Well, eh…I don’t know, I mean…do you want to stay over there? Or…” He makes an almost grabby motion with his hand before gesturing at the blanket. His ears are beat red.

“Do you…want me to get under the covers with you?” You move to turn your body towards his.

“If, uh, if you want to. You don’t have to,” he tries to sound nonchalant although it comes out high pitched.

You move closer, “Do you want to...cuddle?”

Copia’s freckled face bursts into a deep shade of red. A small noise escapes him and he clears his throat. Taking a few deep breaths, he looks at you, eyes pleading, and whispers, “Yes.”

Blushing as well, you slide under the blanket, moving close until your sides are pressed together. Copia lifts an arm, hesitating slightly before wrapping it around your back. You lean into him, resting your head on his shoulder, and Copia restarts the movie. All is quiet until seemingly unsatisfied, Copia pulls away.

“One second,” he says, raising his index finger.

He moves back into the corner of the couch, resting against the cushions and then pulls you forward until you’re almost laying on top of him. You bring your legs up and settle in, helping Copia pull the blanket fully over the both of you. You can feel him melt, all that tension leaving, and he sighs happily.

“Much better, si?” He mumbles into the top of your head, his fingers squeezing your arm.

“Much better,” you agree.

Non hai idea do cosa significhi per me - you have no idea what this means to me.

[lemonthepotato]

Amai’s Week

I didn’t even know until today that Amai had a week, that’s how hard this game fell off. Anyway, boy do I have some criticisms.

1) We need that many ways to enter a building in a mission? Why? It ends the same no matter what. The mission is still linear.

2) The dialogue in this game is so stiff and not how people talk. Never played a Hitman mission where the target said “I’m going to be here at X time, doing Y thing, blah blah blah” but Amai is kind enough to specify the times she’ll be serving food. Yeah, it’s kind of intuitive to not exit the classroom and start serving octodogs, the cooking club should know it’ll only be at morning, lunch and after school.

3) Amai’s sabotage events are so silly. I remember jokingly thinking “what? are we going to be giving him a pink apron or something?” as a JOKE. And then it HAPPENED, essentially. These characters are meant to be adults LARPing as teenagers but even a teenager has more maturity than “oh, you made an apron I didn’t like!” What? Did Ayano draw a swastika on it or another hate symbol? The game refers to it as a ‘lame’ apron, which implies it’s more likely that Ayano used a bland colour scheme. I’m sorry, but “I wanted a black apron but you made me a pink one, that offends me” is not on the same level. And by the way- if Amai’s food is giving people food poisoning due to Ayano’s sabotage, why is she still allowed to run the bake sale???

I was genuinely thinking “surely, it’s more going in this direction” during the picnic talk. It was. So, what? Amai is supposed to control the insects?

If you sabotage all of Amai’s events, Senpai should get the sense that she’s a BAD COOK. Literally all. Her sabotage events are NOT enough to warrant being cut off or rejected.

4) I like how no one in this game questions a giant ass water fountain placed randomly in a room.

5) THE LOVE CONFESSION DOESN’T MAKE AMAI LOOK GOOD, EITHER. Who the FUCK says “yeah, I know I’ve known you for a week, but I was actually pissed at you for mourning your dead friend because… what about me???”

OKAY, TO BE FAIR, THAT “MAKE SURE YOU KEEP THAT IN MIND” LINE FROM AYANO GOES HARD ASF 🔥

6) Okay lol I just. I love how funny Kizana is.

I like to imagine Ayano and Senpai are in some Truman Show situation where Info-chan is just hiring all these colourful personalities to rizz Senpai to create the craziest situations ever. Like Ayano is just some institutionalised person who was dragged out by a studio to be exploited in her dire mental state. Can’t wait to get Kizana in 2025 and Oka in 2026.

Look I’m an Amai defender but spitting in someone’s food is VILE. The reason I don’t go to… let’s call it OldRonalds is because three employees spat in my food. I had three occasions. Yeah, wasn’t risking a fourth. AND IT’S IMPLIED SHE DID THIS SEVERAL TIMES. That is NASTY.

7) Yeah I definitely talk to myself when cooking. That’s totally normal.

8) SHE TELEPORTS IMMEDIATELY TO THE FLOOR. ALSO HOW WOULD NO ONE HEAR THAT???

9) A small pet peeve of mine over the years is the line “oh my god! is that a dead body?” when talking about their classmates. Akademi is a small school, where everyone should know each other. Maybe- like “Oh my god! [character’s surname, because it’s Japan, or whatever their nickname is considering Akademi has nicknames]? A-are you okay? I need to get help!”

10) Ben Shoku-ro asks us to essentially stalk Amai. Very normal. See, this is why I headcanon that Akademi is just a mental institution disguised as some… high school LARP. A very ineffective one, too.

11) I like how everyone has the exact same criticism with the exact same wording towards Amai’s cooking.

12) “You shoot 100% of the takes you don’t miss” is such a funny quote. No shit Sherlock.

13) “juvenile delinquent” aren’t they 18? C’mon, if you’re gonna use the “they’re actually 18” excuse, be consistent about it.

14) Welcome to Writing 101. In Inkyu and Sakyu’s conversation on Friday, the pink one (Inkyu, I believe) says “however?” While Inkyu is gathering her thoughts. It doesn’t add tension to the scene, they’re talking about fucking studying. It happens twice, actually. It’s awkward and drags on too long. I’m a writer, not a programmer, but surely there has to be a way to make the dialogue end faster?

Also Horuda canonically drawing kill art is real asf. She is not okay in the head and is expressing her emotions to avoid doing something dangerous. This is what we call showing, not telling. This is something this game struggles at.

15) Wait, Kyuji stalking Osana is a bounty? What if the player match made them? Is the game seriously gonna punish you for doing the pacifist route?

16) Why can Toga walk on bushes???

Okay if Senpai’s new personality is himbo than I kinda fw him.

HELP DID YANDEREDEV FORGET TOGA WASN’T A CREEP SO HAD TO RETCON IT?? Same with Horo, though I think Horo being weird was inferred by the demon Easter egg.

17) Also, another general criticism, but the dialogue in this game is so wonky. Instead of “Hey, blah blah, did you know blah blah dislikes gossip?” It could be “Hey, blah blah, X said to me gossipers were all evil people. Ridiculous, right? Who doesn’t gossip from time to time? Guess that’s what I’m doing” or something shorter than that. And things like money and violence shouldn’t even be discussable topics. I’m sorry but “Hey, Horuda Umetsu, did you know Amai Odayaka dislikes violence” would receive an “okay? don’t we all?” IRL. Like even though Horuda is prone to violence no one’s going around shaming people for disliking it WTF.

(Edit: Btw, before Amai came out, I made my own version of Amai’s week a year ago, along with the other rivals, but honestly? They suck. I’ll add them anyway, if you wanna check them out, but I got lazy halfway through and began half assing stuff: Amai, Kizana, Oka, Asu, Muja, Mida, Osoro, Hanako, Megami. I’m not saying these are better than the game. The way I characterised Kizana, for example? Canon Kizana is much better. The writing on these posts were somehow cringier than the actual writing. Why share it then? Dunno. I like humiliating myself? Oddly, I got a lot of nice DM’s from people about them at the time. I also made a shitty AU.) (I have more posts over there, like a mission mode concept ending) (also, it was only a year ago, but I feel like my writing has improved a ton since then)

Addendum: Not sure if I gave the impression I support YandereDev. I don’t.

[rebelwrites]

Six: What’s The Worst That Could Happen?

Charles Leclerc x Nova Teller (OC)

Till The Wheels Fall Off Masterlist

Small town meets the fast lane. What happens when two souls meet? Will it end in happiness or will they both crash and burn?

As always reblogs and feedback is highly appreciated ❤️ if you want tagging in future parts let me know ❤️

An awkward silence fell over the two of us, any confidence I found had now dissolved leaving me feeling like a nervous wreck. This was only meant to be some harmless flirting, not the guy I had been crushing on for years basically asking me out on a date.

“Well, what about now?” Charles said, finally breaking the silence. Letting out a shaky breath I looked up at him to realize he wasn’t joking.

Come on Nova think!

“What about your friend?” I asked, trying to buy myself a little bit more time, “you just gonna leave him?”

“He will be fine,” Charles laughed, fiddling with the label on the beer bottle, “he’s more than likely going to have an early night, he is still pretty tired from traveling.”

I needed to come up with an excuse but my brain was drawing blank. I had been put on the spot, which was something I hated, it always made my stomach churn. “Squirt,” Jax’s voice called out from the other end of the bar, “thought I’d told you to go home and get some sleep?” he scolded, folding his arms across his chest with a cocked brow.

“Yes dad!” I laughed, rolling my eyes at him. Turning my attention to Charles I weakly smiled at him. I felt my already tired body slightly sagging in relief, “sorry, I’ve gotta go, Doctor Teller’s orders and all that shit.”

“See you around, Sunshine,” Charles smiled softly, lifting his beer bottle up at me.

Flashing him a smile in return, I swiftly slid off the bar stool, weaving my way through the bar. The moment I was through the staff only door I felt a hand land on my shoulder.

“Come here,” Jax hummed, pulling me into a tight hug, pressing a kiss to the top of my head, “did I hear Leclerc just asked you out on a date?”

“Yeah, you did,” I sighed, looking up at my older brother, “I kinda freaked out, told him I wouldn’t have time.”

“I hear what you are saying, Nova, but you need to put your happiness first for once,” Jax whispered, refusing to pull away from the hug, “you haven’t been truly happy for a while now have you?”

“Of course I’ve been happy,” I lied. The truth was I hated being alone, I wanted someone who loved me for who I was, someone I could go on cute dates with but also someone who loved my family as much as I did. Everyone I had ever dated turned out to be complete assholes, so for the past 3 years I refused to get involved with anyone. My heart was calling out but I just didn’t know if I could deal with more heartbreak so I shut myself off from the world keeping my focus on my family.

“Nova, you know you can’t lie to me. You have lost that sparkle in your eyes but I saw it when you were flirting with Charles,” he smiled, finally stepping back releasing me from the hug. “If he makes you happy then what's the worst that could happen?”

“Are you really asking me that?” I scoffed, rolling my eyes at him, “he’s only in town for the next four weeks, ain’t like he’s looking for something serious. He’s probably just wanting a townie to get some action. So what’s the use, he’s gonna leave and I’m gonna be heartbroken,” pausing when I realized that he was being a hypocrite right now, “hold up a minute. When was the last time you dated someone?”

“Just have a summer fling with the boy, it is blatantly obvious that he feels something for you, sis. You’re young, go have some fun, get laid, just live your life,” Jax smiled softly, placing a hand on my arm, “you might never get this opportunity again.”

“Still didn’t answer my question,” I hummed, nudging him with my elbow.

“I have a child who is my number one priority so things are a bit different for me,” he shrugged, I knew he was right, he didn’t just have to think about himself now. Elenor was always going to be his number one, nothing would ever change that. “Come on, I will drive you home.”

“I’m perfectly fine to drive,” I protested, but at that moment my body decided to betray me as a large yawn escaped my body.

“Course you are,” Jax laughed, swatting my arm away from my jacket pocket, swiping the keys for himself, “I won’t be able to focus if I don’t drive you home myself.”

“And what about the bar?” I asked, raising my brow, “you know damn well you can’t just abandon ship.”

“Chucky said he will cover me,” Jax smirked, wiggling the keys in front of me, “plus I will only be gone for like fifteen minutes, so get your ass moving.”

“Fine, you can drive,” I huffed, knowing that this wasn’t going to be a fight I was going to win.

The obnoxious blaring sound of the alarm echoed around the room causing me to groan into my cloud-like pillow. I didn’t want to leave my bed, I wanted to stay in this safe comfortable cocoon that I had created. When I arrived home last night I dragged myself straight to bed, face planting the mattress not bothering to even change as I passed out. Jax was right, I needed a good night's sleep and for the first time in the last six months that's what I got but I still hadn’t woken up feeling refreshed, in fact I felt worse.

One good night's sleep wasn’t going to fix everything, it wasn’t a magic cure.

Running my hands over my face I took a deep breath before finally kicking the duvet back, moving my body so I was now sitting on the edge of the bed. Reaching for my phone I pulled the charger out letting it drop to the floor as I silenced the alarm.

Another day, another 5am wake up.

At least Nero would be joining me at the cafe to go through everything, learning how I liked things done. My mind was constantly replaying the events of last night, it was like I enjoyed tormenting myself. I just hoped I would at least have a couple of days before I bumped into Charles again but my gut feeling was telling me that wouldn’t be the case.

Finally, I pushed myself off the bed, quickly shooting Nero a text letting him know I was awake. The time I spent at home went by in a blur, like it did every morning and once again I was fumbling with the stupid lock on the cafe door. It was something I kept meaning to get fixed but it kept slipping down the list of things I needed to get done.

Once I had finally entered the building I winced at the sound of the alarm screeching through the room. I hated this thing, I knew we needed the security but I felt like you needed a degree to shut the bloody thing off.

“Jax really went all out on the security, eh?” Nero chuckled, appearing behind me.

“Something like that,” I scoffed, sighing in relief once I had managed to deactivate it. “I think it’s overkill but you know Jax, there's no changing his mind once he has decided something.”

“Come on then, mamacita, let's get this show on the road,” Nero grinned, wrapping his arm around my shoulders as he guided me to the back room. It was such a good feeling to have him here, he was a life saver right now, he was taking a massive weight off my shoulders, relieving some of the pressure life was throwing at me.

The sound of someone knocking on the main door caused me to look up at Nero from across the room, “What time is it?” I asked, turning back to putting up the flyers for the fundraiser on the notice board.

“Twenty five past six,” he hummed, “want me to let them in?”

“Why not, it’s only five minutes before we open,” I shrugged.

I kept my back towards the door, I needed to get everything up on the notice board ready for the new week. The moment I heard his voice I panicked dropping the pot of push pins all over the floor, the sound of them scattering across the laminate caused Nero to rush over.

“You okay, mama?” he asked, placing his hands over my shaking ones, “Is that him?” My eyes were like saucers at Nero’s words, how the hell did he know? “Jax rang me last night and brought me up to speed,” he smirked, spinning me around pushing me towards the counter to where Charles was, “stop overthinking things, listen to your heart, chicka, you never know he might be the one.” he whispered in my ear.

“You live in cuckoo land,” I scoffed.

“Nova, you know me,” he smirked, taking a step back holding his hands in the air “I’m a Companionator,” he mouthed pointing at himself whilst walking away backwards.

Shaking my head at him, I took a deep breath before giving Charles my attention, “You stalking me now?” I laughed, leaning against the counter behind me, folding my arms across my chest.

“Sunshine, I didn’t know you worked here,” he mumbled, gripping the edge of the counter as he spoke. The sight of his ring clad hands caused my heart rate to triple, why did he make me so nervous?

“Yuup,” I nodded, popping the ‘p’. “Spend the mornings here and the nights at the bar.”

“Vous ne mentiez pas sur le fait que vous dirigiez deux entreprises. You weren't lying about running two companies,” he said softly, running his hand across his face.

“Pourquoi mentirais-je ? Why would I lie?” I said but the words came out a little harsher than I anticipated, the look on Charles face caused me to wince.

He dropped his eye contact as he rubbed the back of his neck, the tell tale sign of embarrassment, “Urm, I guess I don’t know,” he mumbled.

The sight of him fumbling over his words, warmed my heart. I’d never expect someone like him to be anything other than cocky and full of confidence yet here he was acting like a deer that had been caught in headlights. It was actually really endearing. The media always portrayed him as someone who had everything, even though he probably did, it was nice to see that deep down he was acting just as nervous as I felt.

“What can I get you?” I quickly asked, hoping that changing the subject could help clear the awkwardness that had fallen over the two of us.

“Urm, two coffees and a couple of blueberry muffins please,” he asked, his voice still quiet as he spoke. He had now moved from rubbing the back of his neck to fiddling with one of the many bracelets wrapped around his wrist.

“Coming right up,” I smiled, getting started on his order. My heart rate was slowly coming back down but the moment I passed him the first coffee, his fingers brushed against mine sending shockwaves through my body and in turn caused my heart to skip a beat. I had never felt this kind of connection with anyone before, although with Charles it was breathtaking. Soon enough the awkward tension around us had dissipated and the guy standing in front of me was the person who was confidently flirting with me in the bar last night.

“So Sunshine, what’s this fundraiser you were on about last night?” he asked, taking a sip of his coffee whilst leaning against the counter.

“It’s something we do every year, each time we raise money for a different charity. Funds from this event will be going to a dementia charity,” I smiled, feeling tears prick my eyes as I said the one word I always tried to avoid, “it’s something extremely close to mine and Jax’s heart.”

“Your Pops?”

“Yeah,” I sighed, finding myself fiddling with my necklace, “he was diagnosed about a year ago and since then things have started to spiral.”

“What does the fundraiser entail?” Charles asked, it was like he could sense a change of subject was needed.

Reaching behind me I grabbed one of the many flyers to pass to him, “it’s in two man teams and is basically a big scavenger hunt across town. Starts at 10 and you have until 5pm to complete as many tasks as you can, capturing photo or video evidence. Each task has points attached to it and the team with the most points wins,” I smiled, watching as he intently read the flier. Whilst he took in the information I moved over to the pastry counter, finishing off his order.

I couldn’t help sneak glances as I carefully wrapped the muffins, placing them in the brown paper bag. A wave of confidence washed over me, I had no idea where it came from but I found myself swiping the marker pen off the counter, scribbling my phone number on a napkin.

For a moment I stared at the white square, deciding if I was going to do this. My head and heart were screaming different things at me but Jax’s words from yesterday rang in my head, he was right, I was still young and this might be my only chance. Carefully I folded the napkin in half before slipping it into the bag.

“I don’t know if you and your friend will still be in town by then,” I said softly, mentally praising myself for continuing the act of not knowing who he was. Although I wasn’t sure on how long I would be able to keep the charade going, “but if you are, it would be great to see you there, Jax has the sign up sheet at the bar,” I smiled, handing over the brown paper bag.

“See you around, Sunshine,” he said, throwing me a wink, spinning on his heels, coffee and baked goods in hand as he left the cafe.

@withmyteeth @chibsytelford @stillbreathin @danzer8705 @keyweegirlie @celestialams @dragon-of-winterfell @ohthemisssery @a-distantdreamer @sgkophie @angywritesstuff @enchantedbytomandhenry @scribbuluswrites @dangerouspursepeachbear @buendiabebeta @ferrarifwendvale @theplobnrgone @charlesleclercje @queenslife @panicforspec @justme2042 @liv67 @derpinathebrave @clcspeonies @pleasantducktimetravel @raaaaabzzz @mehrmonga @sbgal @fangirl-lb @pitconfirmbutton @oslokij @tall-tanned-tattoo @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @pumpkin-spice-hate @talicat713 @band--psycho @little-diable @i-love-scott-mccall @fourthwallhateclub @theysayitscrazy @rosieposie0624 @choochoo284 @meteora-fc @beeroses @darklydeliciousdesires @the-jer-bear @extraneousred @youflickedtooharddamnit @babypink224221

[lilcatdraws]

Crack A Smile and Cut Your Mouth

Ledger!Joker Origin Story

Chapter Three - Leaving Home

Warnings: None

Chapter Summary: Jack, now 18, leaves home and joins the army.

Author's Notes: I know there are a lot of time skips in this chapter but I really don’t know enough about the military to give a quality depiction and plus I’m lazy :P There will be more length in the coming chapters I swear 😭 I literally had no motivation for this one. I kept telling myself to just make it to at least 1k words. It's gonna get good guys I promise. Just trust the process 😅

Taglist: @alittlesmartcookie

If anyone else would like to be added please let me know! <333

1 Year Later 

Long brown curls fell to the bathroom tiles as Jack cut his hair. With each snip it pained him to watch them go but it had to be done. Rules were rules.

A year ago Jack’s last summer at home was spent enjoying himself while he could. He filled up his sketchbook to the brim with his drawings and the photos he took. When the book was finished, he stored it in the top drawer of his nightstand. He thought maybe it could be something to look back on when he came back home. 

He also did some odd jobs around the house that needed to be done years ago. He repainted the small tool shed in the backyard and redecked the front porch. His father was actually appreciative of Jack’s work. Lazy bum.

After that school started back again. Jack made an effort to do better his senior year so he could at least graduate. He succeeded and completed school with grades that weren’t exactly the greatest but he still managed to earn a high school diploma. His mother was so proud.

Skateboarding became his nightly routine. He wore the tires out trying to get as much out of the board as he possibly could. He knew it was probably going to be a while before he would skate again.

Currently he was preparing to leave. In a few weeks, he would be sent off to Fort Leonard Wood for basic training. He had to get everything in order before he left. It wasn’t stressful but it was still a lot for him to take in since he was still so young. He’d only been a legal adult for a few months and already he was beginning to see why older people always said to enjoy being a kid while you can.

Jack put the scissors down and grabbed a razor from the cabinet. He turned it on and cleaned up the sloppy mess of hair the scissors left behind, ending up with a decent crew cut.

He examined himself in the mirror. It was like a stranger was staring back at him. He had always kept his hair longer than most boys, letting the messy curls flow freely. Having hair this short felt so foreign but he would have to get used to it for a while.

“Ugh. I hate this.” He grumbled.

A feminine laugh startled him and he turned to see his mother standing in the doorway. 

“I think it’s very handsome. It makes you look so grown up.” Jacqueline complimented him as she dusted his hair off the back of his shirt.

Jack just shrugged and grabbed a broom to sweep up the mess on the floor.

…

The day was finally here. It was time for Jack to head out for boot camp. As his mother drove, he sat in the passenger seat of his truck with mixed emotions. On one hand he was excited to leave his old life back home and experience new things in the army, but on the other hand the next 10 weeks were going to be rough. It would be a true test of his endurance. 

The more he thought about it, he wasn’t that worried since it couldn’t be any worse than what he dealt with at home. His father yelled and screamed at him his whole life. He was used to it. The drill sergeants would be no different, minus the brutal beatings of course. He could do this. 

Soon they reached the place Jack was supposed to meet at for transportation. Jacqueline parked the truck and turned to her son warmly.

“Jack, you’re the bravest guy I know. You’re gonna be fine.”

“Thanks Mama.” Jack mumbled with a small smile.

Jacqueline pulled him into a hug and kissed his cheek. “Be safe. I love you.”

“I love you too.” 

He grabbed his duffel and out the door he went. Jacqueline watched him approach the bus station and couldn’t help but sigh. Her little boy was all grown up.

…

Saying basic training was rough was an understatement. 

It was the most grueling 10 weeks of his life. Jack didn’t really consider himself to be athletic but he was at least in good shape. Even then he still struggled to keep up with the amount of work exerted on his body. It was utterly exhausting.

Jack was wrong about the yelling being like what he was used to. At least at home he could find ways to get away from it. There was no escape at basic. It was constant. And instead of one person getting in his face it was three or four. His shyness didn’t do him any favors. Joining the army really forced him out of his comfort zone. 

At the start Jack regretted his decision to enlist in the first place and cursed himself for not thinking it through. But now that basic was over, he felt a sense of accomplishment and actually started to like this new chapter of his life.

…

Months later

Jack leaned against the wall, taking a long drag from his cigarette. He exhaled and stared intently at his watch wishing the time would go by faster. He took up smoking after basic when he was stationed at Fort Benning. It gave him extra energy and kept him awake on hard days. 

Today was definitely one of those days. He’d been up since about 0300 and wouldn’t be returning to the barracks until 2300. PT was more strenuous than usual and then it was nonstop work all day. Things were finally beginning to slow down but there was still an hour left until the day was over. It felt like time was slowly creeping by.

To pass the time, Jack glanced up at the TV in the middle of the lobby. Like always the news was on, this time showing unrest in the Middle East. 

Jack shook his head. The possibility of approaching conflict loomed in the air, creating unease among both the inexperienced and experienced soldiers. Jack didn't mind entertaining the thought of going to war. He would do what he had to do. But there was still a trace of fear that lingered with him.

Almost like his gut knew.

[gracexthoughts]

of violent delights chap 13

buckbeak's sentence

9 june 1996

Mattheo’s POV

The energy in the Great Hall is contagious as we all celebrate the end of finals, O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s. Even Elladora is in a good mood. I’ve kept my promise to Mia to not confront her about what she said to her but that doesn’t mean I haven’t stayed angry about it. All year Ella has been growing more and more obsessive in her hatred of Mia and the more and more I fall for Mia, the more frustrated and tired of Ella I become. Elladora has always been like family to me. She grew up in the Malfoy Manor under the care of her aunt, Narcissa, since both her parents are in Azkaban and she, Draco and I grew up together. But even so, her anger and hatred of Mia has been wearing on our relationship this year. 

My friends talk excitedly around me but I’m not really listening, instead watching a certain redhead, her smile drawing me in even from a distance. Now that the year is coming to an end, prefect rounds along with it, I’m finding myself anxious for what that means for my relationship with Mia. We’ve been towing this line between friends and something more but only because we’ve been forced to spend time together twice a week. Without that are we even friends? I hate that I’m worried about it. I have never been so worried about a girl, let alone wishing for more with one, always preferring one night stands and no strings attached. And of course it had to be Euphemia Potter. 

I watch as Mia stands from the Gryffindor table to leave, sauntering out of the Great Hall alone and before I even know what I’m doing, I’m following her. I hear my friends protesting behind me but I ignore them, solely focused on Mia’s retreating figure. 

“Mia! Wait up!” I call as I step into the hall, causing Mia to turn around, her face lighting up in a smile as she sees me. She’s wearing jeans and a tight t-shirt, exposing a slight glimpse of the skin of her waist, making me want to reach out and hold her close to me by her waist. 

“Hey, what’s up?” she asks and as I come to stand in front of her I realize I have no plan, no reason to stop her except the one reason I won’t tell her. 

“I- uh- was just thinking we should skip out on rounds again tonight, since it's the last one,” I offer, conjuring up a reason after a moment's hesitation. 

“That anxious to be rid of me, are you?” She teases, a mischievous glint in her green eyes as she leans her back against the corridor wall. 

“No, I meant… together. Go for a smoke or something,” I say, taking a step closer to the girl. Mia smiles cockily, and I realize she knew what I meant. 

“I know, I just wanted to hear you say it,” she chuckles, looking up at me and pulling her bottom lip between her teeth. Fuck, she’s gonna be the end of me.

“Sneaky, princess,” I chuckle lowly, stepping closer to her close enough so I can smell her perfume. “What would everyone else say if they knew the Golden Girl,  Princess of Gryffindor-” 

“Only you call me that.” 

“-was skipping out on her responsibilities just to hang out with the likes of me? Without needing any convincing,” I chuckle, planting my hand against the wall above her head, her green eyes shining up at me through her lashes, drawing me in as I lean towards her.

“Maybe I don’t care what people think of me anymore,” she says, her voice lower than normal.

“Tryin’ to ditch your rep, princess?” I watch as Mia’s bright green eyes flick away from my eyes down to my lips as I smirk. 

“Maybe,” she says, her eyes flicking back to mine as the space between us slowly minimizes. My eyes flick down to her lips, her beautiful full lips that taught me so often, wanting nothing more than to close the distance between us. “Matt,” Mia whispers my nickname like a plea and I nearly melt on the spot, wanting to hear her say my name over and over again in her posh, silken voice. 

There’s barely any space between our faces when I hear a small yelp to my left. Mia and I turn to see three pairs of feet appear out of nowhere, tripping over each other. They land in a heap, legs, torsos and then heads appearing as Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger throw off a silvery cloak and attempt to untangle themselves from each other. I jump away from Mia, putting a much more respectable amount of space between us, “Bloody hell?” 

“Harry!” Mia exclaims, her face bright red. The trio help each other stand, all looking awkward and guilty except Harry who looks angry, his eyes, which are eerily like his sister’s, are glaring at me. “What the hell are you three up to?” Mia asks her brother whose eyes are flickering between me and her. 

“What are you up to?” Harry responds, crossing his arms and raising his eyebrows at his sister. 

“Nothing. Your turn,” Mia says sharply. 

“Nothing,” Harry responds with a cheeky grin. My eyes dart between the siblings, Ron and Hermione doing the same. 

“‘Mione?” Mia asks, turning to the smaller girl for answers. 

“Riddle?” Harry asks before Hermione can answer, his eyes narrowed as he turns back to face me. Bloody hell, why is everyone in Mia’s life crazy protective? I thought older siblings were supposed to be the protective ones. 

“Oi!” Mia snaps, pulling her brother’s attention back to her. She steps towards him, pulling him from the group a few feet leaving the rest of us to stand in awkward silence. “Harry, what are you up to? You’re not supposed to leave the castle, it's nearly dark!” 

“We’re going to see Hagrid. They’re executing Buckbeak after all,” Harry responds quietly, and Mia’s face softens. 

“Alright, fine but I’m coming with you,” Mia says eventually, and I notice how my heart sinks slightly, wishing she'd stay so we could continue our conversation. “We better hurry,” she says to the third years, nodding down the hall. “I’ll try to be back for rounds,” she says to me, a regretful look in her eyes as she mouths ‘sorry’ to me. I sigh, watching the four Gryffindor’s turn the corner and lean back against the wall. 

Maybe the fact that we keep getting interrupted is for the best. She’s too good for you, I repeat to myself like a mantra, hoping it will rid this girl from my mind. But I know better. 

Euphemia’s POV

“What the hell was that?” Harry asks me in a low voice as we walk through the halls towards one of Hogwarts’ side entrances, Ron and Hermione ahead of us. 

“Nothing,” I say stiffly because I’m not going to say what I’m thinking because what I’m thinking is ‘He was going to kiss me and I was going to let him and I can’t get the smell of his cologne out of my nose or his voice out of my head and when he is around I can’t breathe but when he’s not I can barely think of anything or anyone else and I can’t believe it's him out of all people and my little brother has the worst timing in the entire world.’

“Is there something going on between the two of you? I thought you hated him!” Harry hisses and I can’t tell if he’s actually mad at me or not. 

“Ugh! No, I- I don’t know, okay?” I say, frustrated. I haven’t even really told the Twins anything and I haven’t told Angelina and Alicia everything either. Never, in all the scenarios I could have created about my life, did I think I would be having feelings for Mattheo bloody Riddle and I have no idea how to handle it. 

“So there is something going on?” He presses, stopping in the hall as Ron and Hermione exit the castle. 

“I don’t know, Haz. It’s weird and new and I don’t know what any of it is or means,” I say quickly and breathlessly. 

“Do you like him?” Harry asks, no anger in his voice, just curiosity. 

“I don’t know, maybe,” I answer honestly. Harry watches me for a moment before looking down at his shoes. “C’mon, let go. We can talk about it later, okay?” Harry nods and we move out of the castle, stepping onto the path that leads down to Hagrid’s cabin. Ron and Hermione are standing over to the side, conversing with Malfoy and two of his friends. As Harry and I approach, Hermione pulls her fist back and slams it into Malfoy’s nose, causing us all to gasp. Malfoy crumples to the ground as Harry and I approach, his friends reaching down to help him up and they push past us, running back into the castle. 

“That felt good,” Hermione says coyly. 

“Not good, brilliant,” Ron chuckles, looking at the girl in awe. 

“Are you gonna take house points for that?” Hermione asks, looking at me. 

“If anyone asks, I didn’t see anything,” I chuckle and shake my head. “C’mon let’s go.” 

We continue down the path as the sun slowly sinks closer to the horizon. As we reach the cabin, Buckbeak looks up at us curiously from where he lays in the pumpkin patch. Harry knocks on the door and Hagrid lets us in quickly. “What’re you lot doing here? I told yer not to come!” I can’t help but notice how helpless the giant man looks. “Look at the poor creature.” 

“Why don’t you just set him free?” Harry asks, looking out the window at the Hippogriff. 

“Well they’d know it was me, wouldn’t they? Get Dumbledore in trouble. He’s coming down to be with me for it. Says he doesn’t want me to be alone,” Hagrid says, his voice distant. 

“We’ll stay too, Hagrid,” Hermione offers, pouring some tea for Hagrid in one of his giant mugs. 

“Absolutely not, I do not want you lot seeing something like this,” Hagrid responds forcefully. “Yer should be heading back up to the castle. Oh, but before yer do, Ron-” Hagrid moves across the small cabin, reaching into a tin and pulling out a rat. 

“Scabbers! I don’t believe it!” Ron says, jumping up to take the animal from Hagrid. The rat looks more dreadful than ever, and is squirming and writhing in Ron's hands. 

“I think that means you owe someone an apology!” Hermione says. They’d been fighting all year over their pets, Ron being convinced Hermione’s cat, Crookshanks, is dead set on eating Scabbers. 

“Yeah, right. When we get back, I’ll apologize to Crookshanks,” Ron says, struggling to keep hold of the rat. 

“I meant me!” Hermione exclaims, exasperated, but before Ron can respond something flies through the window, shattering a vase on the table. 

“Blimey!” Hagrid says. 

“What the-” I mutter, moving to look at the small rock when Harry turns to look out the window. 

“They’re coming,” Harry says. 

“It's too late for you lot to be here. If anyone sees you out of the castle you’ll be in big trouble. Particularly you two,” Hagrid says pointing to Harry and I. Harry, Ron, Hermione and I move towards the back of the cabin as a knock sounds from the front door. “Be with you in a moment!” Hagrid says towards the door and motions us to leave through the back. 

“Hagrid, it’s gonna be okay,” Harry says earnestly and I pull him along by his sweatshirt sleeve. Hermione pokes her head out the back door and we file out as quietly as possible, moving to hide behind the pumpkins for a moment before running back up the path towards the castle. 

We stand towards the top of the hill, turning to look down at Hagrid's cabin and the pumpkin patch. The sky has turned dark, the sun starting to sink below the horizon. I see the executioner, clad in all black, step out of the house and push the younger kids along, trying to get them out of sight and ear shot but then theres the swoosh of the ax and a heavy chop that echos over the grounds. Hermione sways slight, leaning into Harry but Ron is more focused on his rat who is squeaking and writhing wildly. Suddenly, Ron drops the rat in surprise.

“OUCH! He bit me!” Ron says, shocked and starts running after the rat as he scampers along the grounds, away from the castle. 

“No! Ron!” I say, following after him, Harry and Hermione following me. We follow Ron around a hill to see Scabbers running through the grass. Ron jumps forward, managing to catch the rat but fear settles into my gut as Ron points behind us. 

“Run! It's the Grim!” We whip around to see a huge black dog bounding for us, growling viciously. The dog runs past Harry, Hermione and I, knocking Harry and Hermione down completely, towards Ron, grabbing him by the ankle and pulling him away. 

“Ron!” The three of us shout, chasing after Ron as he is dragged towards a large tree. I run quickly, trying desperately to reach the boy, but before I come close something hard knocks me to the side, sending me flying. 

I land with a hard thud on the grass, gasping for air as I try to sit up. I hear Harry and Hermione shriek and soon Harry lands next to me. “You okay?” I ask, pulling my wand out of my pocket. I stand, reaching down to help Harry up as well, and watch as Ron disappears through an opening in the bottom of the Whomping Willow, his cries echoing out. 

“We have to help him!” Harry cries, stumbling forward only to get knocked back again the Whomping Willow’s whipping branch. I cry out for Harry, rushing forward to grab him as Hermione darts forward towards us. 

“We have to go get help,” she gasps, kneeling next to Harry who's still on the ground panting. 

“No, we don’t have time, that thing could eat him,” Harry says hurriedly, sitting up slightly. 

“There’s no way to get in!” I counter, standing as the others do as well. 

“Well if the dog can do it, there has to be a way!” Harry snaps, trying again to get near the tree but stumbles back after almost being hit with another branch. There’s no way to get any closer to the tree without it viciously attacking us until a small orange blur darts forward under the branches, pawing at a small knot on the trunk and disappears into the tree which has fallen completely still. 

“Crookshanks!” 

“”Mione, how’d your cat know how to do that?” Harry asks. 

“I don’t know,” she says bewildered. 

“You guys go back up to the castle and find some help, I’ll go after Ron,” I say, trying to push them towards the school but Harry pushes off me. 

“No, you’re not going alone!” Harry says, pulling out of my grip. 

“Harry, stop. It’s dangerous, it’s dark and you’re far too vulnerable out here. What if Sirius-” 

“Sirius Black is after you too, Mia. If it's safe enough for you-” 

“I’m older, Harry. It’s different, I need you to go back to the castle and get-” 

“Ron’s my friend, Mia! If it was Fred or George wouldn’t you go after them no matter what anyone else said?” Harry yells at me. I grit my teeth, knowing he is right but the instinct to protect him tells me it's wrong. 

“Fine! But you listen to me and do everything I say. Do you hear me? You too, Hermione,” I say sternly, looking at the third years before nodding and running towards the tree with them in my wake. 

One by one, we squeeze down through the hole in the trunk of the tree and land in a small dark tunnel. “Lumos,” I mutter, holding my wand lit up to see what direction the tunnel leads. 

“Where do you suppose this goes?” Hermione asks quietly, her wand aloft as well. 

“We never figured it out, the Twins and I. It goes off the edge of the map towards Hogsmeade but…” I respond. I have a hunch, but at this moment I hope I’m wrong about it. “C’mon, stay behind me,” I say to Harry and Hermione, taking the lead down the tunnel. 

Eventually, the tunnel starts to rise, leading us up further as soft dim light starts peaking in. Finally, the tunnel ends and light seeps through a small opening. I push myself up out of the hole, setting foot in a dusty room; paper peeling off the walls, furniture broken and slashed, dust covering every service. 

“We’re in the Shrieking Shack, aren’t we?” Hermione mutters to which I nod, my assumption unfortunately correct. Suddenly, we hear a cry from above and we set off through the decrepit house, following the paw prints and drag marks in the dust further into the house and up the stairs. 

We reach a room with its door ajar and I look at Harry and Hermione, both of them holding their wands ready. I put out the light of my wand and nod to them. We push through the door and into a bedroom, a large four poster bed on one end with Crooskhanks purring happily in the center of it and Ron on a chair at the other end, moaning and bleeding with his leg at a horrible angle. 

“Ron!” Harry and Hermione gasp, rushing forward towards their friend. 

“Where’s the dog?” I ask. 

“Not a dog, it’s a trap! He’s the dog! He’s an animagus!” Ron cries, pointing behind me and suddenly, the door closes behind us. I whip around, the door having revealed a dark man with long black matted hair, deep sunken eye sockets, filthy and torn striped clothes and yellowing teeth. I jump in front of Harry, my wand raised but I’m a fraction of a second too slow. 

“Expelliarmus!” He says, raising Ron’s wand, and Harry, Hermione and I all lose our wands and Sirius Black catches them as they fly towards him. I extend my arms back, pushing myself in front of my brother and his friends, keeping myself between them and the man in front of us. “I thought you’d come to help your friend,” Sirius Black says hoarsely, his voice sounding like gravel. “Your father would have done the same for me. Very brave not to run for a teacher. I’m glad, truly. It will make this all so much easier.” My blood boils but my attention is diverted as I feel Harry try to push out of my grip, but I grab him, keeping him behind me, Hermione holding him back as well. 

“If you want to kill Harry and Mia, you’ll have to kill us too!” Ron says fiercely, standing up shakily; the effort seems to drain all energy from his face. 

“Lie down,” Black says softly to Ron. “You’re going to worsen your leg standing like that. Besides, there will only be one death tonight.” 

“You didn’t care last time! Killed all those Muggles just to get at Pettigrew. What’s the difference this time?” Harry yells at the man, struggling against me and Hermione. Harry has grown a lot this term, now, taller than Hermione and I and it takes both of us to keep him from going at Black unarmed. 

“Harry!” I say, trying to get him to calm down as anger and hatred for the man in front of us rages in my own chest. But Harry and his safety comes first. 

“Be quiet-” Hermione starts. 

“He KILLED OUR PARENTS!” Harry shouts, managing to pull out of mine and Hermione's grip and he lunges at Black. 

“No!” I call after him but it’s too late. Harry grabs Black, pushing away the wands in his hands and tackling the man to the ground. I rush forward to help but sparks shoot out of the wands, missing Harry but they graze by my arm, sending pain through the limb. I cry out in pain as Harry continues wrestling with Black. Black reaches up, wrapping a hand around Harry’s throat and I stumble forward, kicking the man in the head and pulling Harry up. Our wands are scattered on the floor and I reach down, tossing Ron and Hermione theirs and holding Harry’s to him. Harry and I turn to the decrepit man, holding our wands at his face as he sits on the floor. 

“You going to kill me, Harry? Mia?” Black asks, smiling slightly as if the idea is amusing.  

“You killed our parents,” I say quietly. 

“Why shouldn’t we?” Harry adds, glaring at the man with more hatred than I’ve ever seen before, hatred I feel in my own chest. Black stares at us solemnly, his sunken eyes dark and sad. 

“I won’t deny it but if you knew the whole story-” Black says quietly. 

“You betrayed our parents to Voldemort. Told them where we were hiding, what more story is there?” Harry snaps, his voice quivering with anger. 

“You’ve got to listen to me, you two. You don’t understand,” Black says, urgency creeping into his voice. 

“I think we understand well enough,” I snap, stepping closer to the man, my wand pointed at him, my brother at my side. 

“It's your fault, it's all your fault… you did it,” Harry says, his voice shaking more with every word. Black looks up at him sadly, but before any of us can say more, Crookshanks darts forward and curls up on Black’s chest. Black tries to push the cat off him but Crooskhanks buries his claws into the man’s robes and refuses to budge. 

I look at Harry as he wrestles with the idea of killing the man in front of us. I want Black to pay, I want him to suffer but not at the hands of my little brother. “Haz…” I whisper, stepping towards him but keeping Black in my peripheral vision. 

“He killed them, Mia,” Harry says, quietly, not taking his eyes off the man crumpled on the floor. 

“I know,” I say, my voice cracking slightly. “But this isn’t you, Harry. We’ll take him to the dementors, lock him back up where he can’t hurt anyone again. He’s not worth it,” I say, putting my hand on Harry’s arm so he lowers it. My brother looks at me, tears shining in his green eyes, as he lowers his wand arm slightly. Harry opens his mouth to respond but before he can footsteps echo below us. 

“WE’RE UP HERE WITH SIRIUS BLACK, HELP!” Hermione shouts and the footsteps begin thundering up the stairs. Fear clouds over Black’s eyes and Harry raises his wand again. I turn to face Black, my wand raised as I step in front of my brother. The door to the room bursts open and Professor Lupin runs through. 

“Expelliarmus!” he shouts, claiming all four of our wands for himself, looking between us and the man on the floor. Harry and I back up from Black as Lupin takes in the scene before him. Lupin steps towards the Black, who still sits on the floor with the cat curled up on his chest. 

“Well, well, Sirius. Looking rather horrid, aren’t you? Finally the flesh reflects the madness within,” Lupin says, holding his wand towards the man. 

“Well you’d know all about the madness within, wouldn’t you Remus?” Black responds, chuckling. Lupin looks down at the man and lowers his wand. My blood runs cold as Remus Lupin reaches down to help Sirius Black to his feet and embraces him, the two men clinging to each other like their lives depended on it. 

“Where is he, Sirius?” Lupin asks and Sirius points towards Ron and Harry but I cut them off, my anger boiling over now. 

“HOW DARE YOU?” I yell, pushing Harry back towards Hermione and Ron and standing before the two men. “You’ve been helping him this whole time! I should’ve known the moment I read that letter! For all your talk of how wonderful our parents were! You’ve been helping him all the time, leading Harry and I on so you could help kill us too!” I yell at my godfather and it's Harry holding me back now as I scream at the two men. 

“Mia-” Lupin starts. 

“NO, we trusted you! This whole year, I trusted you and yet you’ve wanted us dead this whole time,” I yell, struggling against my brother’s grip. 

“Please, just let us explain and you’ll see-” 

No!” Hermione shouts. “Don’t trust him, he’s a werewolf! That’s why he’s been missing classes. He’s been helping Black into the castle!” I watch Lupin’s face who remains calm even as his face pales but he nods. Harry and Ron look shocked but I’m not so much. I hadn’t guessed it but now that it’s out, all the pieces fall into place. 

“Only one out of three. Not up to either of your usual standards, girls,” Lupin says. “I have not been helping Sirius, I do not want any of you dead… but the werewolf charge I have no defense against. How long have you known?” 

“Since Professor Snape’s essay,” Hermione responds coldly. 

“Oh you really are very clever. He’ll be very glad. He had hoped someone would put the pieces together,” Lupins says coldly. 

“Enough talk, Rems,” Sirius says, gruffly, “Let’s kill ‘em!” 

“Wait-” Lupin says. 

“I DID MY WAITING! FOR TWELVE YEARS!” Sirius bellows, causing Harry, Ron, Hermione and I to recoil. Lupin watches Sirius closely for a long moment. 

“We will but Harry and Euphemia have a right to know why,” Lupin says, calmly. 

“We know why!” Harry yells from my side. “You betrayed our parents. You’re the reason they’re dead!’ 

“No, just let us explain.” Lupin steps towards us, holding out our wands. I reach out hesitantly, pulling them from his grasp and handing them back, raising my wand defensively towards Lupin. “Now you are armed, and we are not. Please, just let us explain.” Lupin says, setting his own down on the piano by the wall. Harry and I share a look, silently agreeing that we might as well get some questions answered before they try to kill us. 

“If you haven’t been helping him, then how did you find us?” I ask first, keeping my wand raised. 

“The Marauder’s Map. I was watching it-” Lupin says. 

“You know how to work the map?” I ask. Harry had told me how he’d been discovered by Malfoy in Hogsmeade and was being interrogated by Snape and Lupin confiscated the map from him but I never suspected he’d be able to figure out how to use it. 

“Of course I know how to work it. I helped write it,” Lupin says dismissively. “I’m Moony, your father and Sirius’ nickname for me at school.” 

“What?” Harry and I say in unison. 

“I was watching the map tonight because I had a feeling Harry, Ron and Hermione might sneak off to see Hagrid tonight. Even under your father’s old cloak you show up on the map.” 

“You know-” 

“Yes, yes. The amount of times I saw James disappear under that thing. Anyway, you still show up on the map and I watched you go down to Hagrid’s and leave but once you left, you weren’t alone.” 

“No, we were,” Ron mutters. 

“I couldn’t believe it. I thought the map was wrong because how could he be with you?” 

“Who? No one was with us!” Harry snaps.

“And then I saw someone else, Sirius Black, running towards you. I watched as you all collided together and Sirius pulled two under the Whomping Willow,” Ron and Harry interrupt Lupin but I don’t listen to them, my brain working overtime to try and understand what this man is saying. 

“No, Ron. Two of you,” Lupin says, looking at Scabbers. “Can I please look at the rat, Ron?” 

“He’s not a rat,” Sirius mutters. “He’s an animagus by the name of Peter Petigrew.” 

a/n; ahhhhh hello! Thank you for reading. Most of this chapter (and the next) is heavily pulled from the book and the movie and is kind of a mix of the two but I’ve tried to keep the spirit while still writing in my own voice. Hope you are enjoying, I’ve posted chapter 14 as well since they really go together so please go read that and let me know what you think!!

taglist; @purplegardenwhispers @somethingswiftandstyles @weasleyreidstyles @mayamonroem @girlbooklover555 @stxrszurzolo

[number-1-kuaidul-fanboy]

Drawing With the Wind

YGO Rarepairs Week Submission

Day 3: Domestic Life

Pairing: Windy/Ryoken

Word Count: 777

Description: Ryoken does a drawing for a particularly fidgety and impatient subject.

“How long do I have to sit still like this?” Windy grunted, shifting in his spot on the couch. He wasn’t used to the SolTis body and was even less used to sitting still for long periods of time in it.

Ryoken looked up from his piece of paper. “Do you want this drawing to look good or not?”

“I want to snuggle,” Windy complained, his fingers digging into his jeans.

“We can snuggle after.” Ryoken squinted at his paper, brushing his pencil across one spot repeatedly. “Your hair in this new SolTis is very… unique, it’s hard to fully capture.”

Windy rolled his eyes. “Well, excuse me for feeling myself when I have bouncy swirly hair.” He fluffed up a piece of his hair.

“It’s not a crime. It’s just annoying to draw.” He looked up at Windy, their gazes locking for a moment before Ryoken looked back at his drawing. “Okay so that part  swirls like that…” he muttered under his breath as he sketched.

“It’s cute huh?” Windy teased, twirling a piece of his hair in his finger. “And very soft too. Wanna feel it?”

Ryoken pulled his drawing into his chest as his face reddened. “Later.”

Windy moaned, leaning his head back against the couch. “Ryoken, I swear, when I get my hands on you I’ll… I’ll…” Windy trailed off, biting his lip.

Ryoken glanced up with a smirk. “You’ll what?”

“U-um…” Windy felt his face heat up at Ryoken’s tone. “I don’t know, but you hate love and affection so it’ll be torture to you.” He stuck his tongue out.

Ryoken huffed in amusement. “I don’t hate love and affection. And that hardly sounds like a punishment.”

“W-well…” Windy fidgeted with his hands. “Not an actual punishment, I don’t really want to hurt you. Just…” He grunted again. “Get revenge for being forced to sit still for so long.”

“You said yourself that first SolTis didn’t feel like you.” Ryoken squinted at his page as he drew. “So I’m drawing the one that does feel like you.”

“I know, and I’m grateful.” Windy’s fingers dug into the couch. “But it’s been hours! Can’t you take a break and let me snuggle you?”

“I’m almost done,” Ryoken insisted, not looking up from his paper.

“You’ve been saying that for like an hour!”

Ryoken bit his lip. “That was before I started drawing your hair.”

Windy groaned, tapping his feet against the ground.

Ryoken chuckled. “Don't worry, as soon as I'm done, I'll repay you tenfold for this transgression.”

“You'd better. I wanna… I'm gonna… ugh, I don't even know what I'm gonna do to you.”

Ryoken simply smiled and hummed as he continued drawing, stopping occasionally to observe Windy. Windy meanwhile could feel his patience and sanity dripping away. His boyfriend was right there, right across from him, casting teasing glances as though taunting him, so close yet he couldn’t get up to touch him. Well, he could, but Ryoken would insist he stay still so he could draw him. So Windy sat still. His fingers dug into the couch cushion and feet tapped the ground repeatedly and frantically.

“And…” With one last brush of his pencil, he put it aside. “Done… for now.”

“For now?!” Windy groaned and slumped over.

“Well I'd like to colour it at some point,” Ryoken replied holding the paper up, but keeping the side with the sketch on it turned to himself. “Now do you want to see it so far?”

Windy stood up. “Sure.”

He took a moment to stretch out his stiff arms before stepping closer to Ryoken, who'd turned the drawing around so Windy could see it. Instantly, Windy could recognize himself in the drawing. It had his same swirly hair and a bright smile and eyes, though the face was a touch too round. Windy decided not to comment on that.

“Great job, you're a super talented artist. It looks just like me. “Windy swooped Ryoken into his arms bridal carry style, making the man squeak in surprise. “Now can we please go cuddle?”

Ryoken smirked. “Tell me more.”

“Ryoken!”

Ryoken broke into a chuckle. “Seriously, do you appreciate the drawing?” He draped his arms over Windy’s shoulders, keeping his grip on the drawing. “I want to know. I did it for you after all.”

“Yes.” Windy kissed Ryoken’s cheek. “I do…” With a chuckle, he added. “I greatly appreciate your ways of showing love, my partner.”

Ryoken sighed a bit. He leaned closer to Windy's face, tilting his head to the side.

Windy instantly recognized this sign. Smiling, he leaned in as well and captured Ryoken's lips in a kiss.

[minileena-sfw]

Zookeeper - part 13

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Evelyn was only a barely passable liar.

But, to her credit, her hands moved with the grace of a pickpocket.

Only I had eyes fine enough to notice the allen key that slipped out from under the sleeve of her shirt and slid under my mattress as she lifted it up for her ‘inspection.’ I allowed a smirk to spread across my face, seeing as my back was currently turned to the only camera in the room.

She left not long after, and I got to work.

Step one was to fold another paper ladder for myself. It wasn’t that hard, didn’t even take an hour.

Next was the allen key. Obviously, there was no way for someone like me to ever hope to get my hands on one of these things, and so if it were caught on camera, it might draw suspicion. Naturally, that meant I had to hide it. I folded two pieces of paper around it, such that it simply looked like a tiny envelope that I could hold under my arm. It was awkward, but it got the job done.

I was fucking giddy as I left my tank for the last time.

I didn’t bother saying goodbye. I hated this fucking place. I’d be lucky to ever forget a single square inch of the terrain after memorizing it all.

The jump down to the table that my tank sat atop was awkward, and the landing was more than a little painful, but nothing lethal. I could probably have just jumped straight off of the table to the floor, too—the fall was proportional to a few stories for a human, but the damage it would cause to my body was nowhere near the same as a fall for someone like Evelyn. Still, I didn’t want a bruised hip, so after dropping my allen key package, I used the bolt holes drilled in the metal leg of the table as ladder rungs on my way down.

Holy fuck, I’m gonna leave today.

I dragged my package over to the supply cabinet, unwrapping it once I was behind it and out of the camera’s view.

I… may have underestimated my strength for this next part.

Over the course of the next half hour, I wrestled with the metal of the hex key and the strength of the screws that kept the metal grate in place. I had to stop to take breaks every now and then, but after loosening each screw a little bit, I could finish the job with my hands.

The grate fell over, hitting the cabinet and showing me the path to freedom.

A smirk spread across my face.

I turned around and went into full view of the camera.

I looked directly at it before flipping the bird and running out with the biggest smile on my face I had ever felt.

It wasn’t over yet, obviously.

The vent didn’t just lead outside—that would be too easy, and we can’t have that. No, it lead into the sugar glider tank.

I say ‘tank,’ but the sugar gliders’ cage was different from the other five in the small mammals room. It led outside, specifically so that the little critters could be brought out as a sort of petting zoo attraction for kids.

I’ll say it again—it led outside.

I walked carefully through the pitch dark vent, keeping a hand on the metal beside me and testing the ground at each step before committing and putting my full weight on my foot.

Evelyn had already unscrewed three of the four screws that kept the vent cover into the sugar glider exhibit. She had done so three weeks prior, of course—she didn’t know of any cameras with line of sight of the vent, but there was no need to risk it. The cover was still on and secure, covering the entrance from any sugar gliders that could potentially get into the vent, but the lone screw could act as a sort of hinge—as my fingers went through the slit in the grate and pulled up, the cover rotated around the lone screw, giving me a gap to escape through.

Holy FUCK holy fuck this is heavy oh my god my arms are screaming in pain—

I rolled through and let the cover crash back down to the ground behind me. I huffed and laid on my back for a moment, letting myself recover.

Until practically having a heart attack as one of the sugar gliders nipped at my arm.

I shot up and backed away, and the sugar glider did the same at my sudden movement. I recalled asking Evelyn if there was anything to worry about with regards to these things—she said they’re omnivores, but they’re not hunters, and they’re well-fed. They wouldn’t attack me for no good reason. This thing must have just thought I was dying and wanted to eat my corpse.

I hissed at it and it scurried away. Thank fuck.

After a quick shudder, I was off again, trekking through the cage to the opposite end, where a wire fence was all that stood between me and freedom.

The door was locked via passcode. Obviously, Evelyn told me what the code was.

I climbed up the door, using the holes in the wire fence as handholds to get up to the keypad. I punched the code in, and the door opened.

Evelyn had placed a rock in front of the door in advance. She didn’t want the sugar gliders seeing a wide open door and getting out, and so the door only opened a crack before hitting the doorstop. Just enough for me to get out.

She asked me to see if I could manage to close the door behind me, and I humoured her request despite knowing it was far, far too heavy for me. It was probably fine, though—yes, the gliders could escape if they wormed their way through the gap, but they would have to recognize that the door was even open in the first place for that, and Evelyn said that after years of captivity, the concept of the door being unlatched was probably so foreign that they wouldn’t try to leave even if it was as wide open as it could go.

I’m… I’m out.

It worked.

I glanced up. I hadn’t seen the stars or the moon in three and a half years.

The sky was so much more beautiful in person than it was in my memories.

I acknowledged the fact that I was free to do whatever I wanted now, and that did mean that I could technically abandon Evelyn and never see her again. I only acknowledged it—I didn’t consider it even for a moment. It just… felt good to have the choice. To have any choice. Any agency.

I decided what happened to me from now on.

I could choose.

So I relished in the choice I made, now that I knew I wasn’t being forced to make it.

I went to meet Evelyn at the front gate.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Shit. It’s really late.

Layna should’ve shown up by now. If the escape went wrong, we’d have to wait another three weeks for tonight’s camera footage to be deleted to try again. I supposed we could just try again anyway, but it would be adding more variables to a plan already ripe with points of fault.

Oh, god, what if something happened to her? It was a long walk from the sugar gliders’ exhibit to the front gate. What if she got lost on her way over? Oh, god, what if there was an owl? The thought made me sick. I’d never forgive myself if something as horrible as that happened to her.

Or… what if she just… left?

The thought saddened me. I chided myself for it, of course—it was selfish. If Layna wanted to just go, wash her hands of all of this and forget about me… well, I had been employed to keep her trapped in a glass tank for nearly three months, so if she never wanted to see me again, I would—

“Evelyn!”

Relief flooded through my chest, freeing a held breath. My gaze shot down to where I watched Layna worm her way through the bars of the front gate and look up at me with a smile.

“Oh thank fuck,” I breathed as I held out a hand for her to climb into. “Did something happen? I-I feel like that took a long time. O-or am I just really fucking nervous?”

“Uh, probably a bit of both?” Layna suggested as she jumped onto my hand and sat cross-legged, letting me carry her up to my chest as I walked back to my car. “The screws were tighter than I was expecting, and the gate cover was pretty fucking heavy. Also a sugar glider bit me, but it—“

“What!?”

Layna jolted as I held her up to my face and started scanning for bite marks. Sure enough, as she held out her arm, I saw indents in the skin.

“Oh, thank fuck it didn’t draw blood,” I sighed. “Shit, could you get rabies? Is that a thing that you can contract?”

She smacked my finger with the back of her hand, a smile spreading across her face. “It was barely a nip, don’t worry about it.” She leaned back in my palm and stared up at the sky. I followed suit, smiling to myself before continuing my trip back to my car.

“C’mere a sec,” Layna said, pulling my thumb closer to her lap. I obliged her request, letting my finger rest over her abdomen like a seatbelt as she ran her palms up and down the skin, smiling up at the sky.

“Sierra always tried to get me to go stargazing with her,” Layna said suddenly. “I went every once in a while, but mostly I thought it was stupid. It was dangerous, and there was no reason for it in my mind. Back then, anyway.”

I gazed up alongside her. I had gotten to the car, but I sat on the hood for a while, letting Layna take in the sights.

“I wanna do this with her more often when I meet up with her again,” Layna sighed contentedly. “If, uh, she’s alive. And still where our shelter was when I left.”

“She is,” I promised, letting my thumb rub up and down her stomach in a motion that I hoped was comforting. “And if she’s moved in the past three years, you’ll find her. I’ll help, if you ask me to.”

Layna hummed to herself for a while.

“We should probably go now,” she finally sighed. “You still don’t mind if I crash at your place? Potentially for the next little while?”

“As long as you like,” I promise. “I’m genuinely happy to have you.”

With that, I took my friend home.

===

A/N: I feel like the past few chapters have been pretty shitty. I wrote them while a little burned out, and I kind of just wanted this arc to be over. I am MUCH more proud of the chapters moving forwards—14, 15, 18, 19 and 20 in particular were some of my favourites to write. Anyways, if you’ve been growing a little detached from the story bc of the past few shitty chapters, rest assured! It’s picking up soon. I sincerely hope you enjoy!

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[ghostoftheyear]

I don’t know if I was just too busy to feel anything while I was moving, or if I’m just on a downslope now that the move is basically done, but man.

(btw the move was successful, aside from a couple of broken items where I could see the movers just fucking gave up -- and the fact that I had to clear out my entire kitchen and both bathrooms by myself. SUPER glad I moved mid-month and had two extra weeks to get as much shit out as I could)

anyway, I’ve been getting a few drawins done and I was pretty pleased with them, but boy. after getting tons of hits on the dmmd bromides, I was starting to feel like all popular and shit, but of course it wasn’t because of me personally, it was the pretty boys and pictures. and rationally, I know that, and ALSO rationally I know that my art has never been hugely popular on here or even on twitter -- and don’t get me started on pillowfort or itaku.ee -- and yet.

it’s one of those goddamn things my brain likes to seize on and run around with. “only one person liked your art and no one reblogged it!” “only one person retweeted that post and NO ONE liked it!” “clearly no one likes your art! your art sucks and you should feel bad about it! hey guess what you’re gonna feel bad about it, dumbass! you keep telling yourself it’s good and you like it but ha ha you’re clearly the only one who does!”

obviously this is the worst sort of internal monologue... well, I’m sure there are worse but for me it’s pretty noxious. it all just sort of spirals until I start deleting posts, because if no one commented or RB’d or RT’d or even so much as tapped an emoji on it, OBVIOUSLY that means I’m a rotten artist and should give up on the one ambition and dream I have anymore. OBVIOUSLY it’s not due to the algorithm (fuck you twitter, fuck you new asshole owner for making it so much worse), or the fact that I’m terrible at self-promotion and really don’t even like reblogging myself bc it feels like attention whoring, or simple bad timing. or, you know, the fact that I’m drawing for a dead fandom (”but,” my brain whispers insidiously, “lots of people liked the bromide posts so it can’t be that dead, now can it?”).

fuck I hate my brain. I hate depression and executive dysfunction and ADHD. I hate that when I do manage to push through everything and draw or write or finish something, a combination of all the factors above just serves to reinforce the negative belief that my stuff is no good. I hate this spiral of thinking “but I liked it! I thought it was good!” and my brain going “what’s the point if you’re the only one, though?”

that might be the worst part though because I know I’m not the only one. so now I’m letting the numbers get to me, and that is absolutely the last thing I should be allowing. Fuck you, brain. Why are you like this?

I really need meds. Or a social life. Or both.

[sindumpster]

Hey Wiggs idk if you have any experience in storywriting but i really wanna introduce my own characters to the world but have no clue how. I can't draw to save my life and i'm too insecure about my writings i always delete the drafts. H e l p

STOP DELETING YOUR DRAFTS!!

Like I mean this in the kindest way, but how are you going to share anything you make if you delete it? Especially drafts, because the whole point of a draft is to serve as a stepping stone. How are you going to improve upon a story you no longer have? At the very least, make yourself a hidden folder and save it to that so you can pretend it doesn’t exist without actually deleting it. Or make a burner email or private account somewhere you won’t check often and copy-paste your drafts to it. There’s a butt ton of ways, but I recommend picking one until you’re comfy letting your drafts stay.

Cuz yeh I do have a bit of experience as a writer. I consider myself more of a visual arts person, but I do write a lot, both for college and for myself (and RPs with friends, which is also a practice option). And I started with writing stories years before I pursued art. Neither of which I was particularly good at when I started out. I’m not a savant-type lol, I had to practice and keep working at it. It’s like learning to play an instrument—nobody expects you play Bach the first time you pick up a violin, but if you stick with it, you can learn how to play Bach.

But you’re also gonna be your own worst critic, and you’ll also have to learn how to fight the gremlin in your brain that says you suck. Like if you think I’m a good artist/writer/whatever, know that I still have that voice that tells me I suck, and that I can’t draw or write for shit. There’s artists and writers out there that make me look like a baby by comparison, and they have to fight that gremlin too, because you can always do something better. There is no point at which you can no longer improve. But that’s also kinda cool because it means there’s no limit to what you can make, and no cap to how good you can get if you stick with it. As a creative, it’s both a blessing and a curse, but it takes time to appreciate the blessing side of it.

…weird ramble aside tho, I think you should also lower your expectations when it comes to drafts. Like I mentioned before, drafts are stepping stones. Sometimes my drafts are incoherent word vomit where I just throw up sentences and words as they come to me, or lists of things I want to have in a story. Drafts will never be perfect, and may not even be good, because they’re for sorting out your ideas and trying things. The point is to fuck around and find out. Give yourself permission fuck around. Maybe it’ll go somewhere, maybe it won’t. If you stick with it though, you’ll eventually start revising and honing it down, and it’ll sound more like complete story. Trust the process and give yourself permission to make mistakes. And if your end goal is to post it, figure out how to get it to a point where you’re okay putting it out in the wild. But ultimately, let yourself enjoy the process of creating, even if you think it’s flawed. Perfection is an illusion, so fuck perfection, and have fun instead.

Another thing I’ve found is that sometimes you just need to let a project sit (writing and drawings). I usually let art age a few days where I don’t do anything, and I don’t post it. It lets me come back to it with fresh eyes so I can spot anything I want to fix. But also I’ll dislike it less. Sometimes you just hate something because you’ve been staring at it for too many hours/days/weeks, and need to NOT look at it. Writing especially, sometimes I just need to walk away from a draft for a while, so that instead of being like “THIS IS ALL GARBAGE >:[” I can instead be like “I like the idea, and that last line is 👌, but this dialogue feels a little stale”.

Also if it helps, I’ve rewritten this ask 4 times now. I’ve been drafting, if you will I’mnotsorrylmao. And I’m certain there’s a better, more concise way to say what I want. But if I fixate on that, I’m never gonna post an answer to this ask, am I? And that would suck so much worse that this imperfect response lol.

PS: I know writing and drawing are super complicated and nuanced, along with all the feelings related to them, and there’s a ton I didn’t even touch on cuz otherwise I’d never finish writing this. But if you need any pointers or more specific help on how to start, feel free to ask or reach out.

[zangethefate]

I lost my home.

Well, let me explain some things first. I’m a turkhis person who learned english as a second language, so bare with me if I write wrong or have mistakes in general. I don’t know if any of you know but turkey had a major earthquake a few days back and it’s still  happening constantly. Even they are after shocks, it still happens alot. So, I was living in this apartment at the top floor with my mother, and we had a lovely syrian family as a neighboor. We moved there after our grandmother kicked us out and we had to live on the streets for some time (I think two to three months?) untill we got the house. (The reason it took long was because the previous owners was still leaving the house.) After we got the house, we didn’t had lamps to shine our rooms, or furnitures or anything in our house. It was ours though, and we were happy about that, it was better than the streets of turkey if you ask me. It had three bedrooms, two bathrooms, one kitchen, two living rooms, so imagine how this house is. I’m saying house because it was our house, not just an apartment, it felt comfy, cozy, it felt everything to me. I never had my own room untill we got that house, and I felt how one can have their own house, own things, even a bed, or a carpet, I was so happy and you can imagine my happiness as a young kid who didn’t know shit expect living and surviving. I made a make shift futon the first night, and our furniture came after a week. We added lights after three days, and to that point we were using candles. I burned myself like a idiot twice, it was an accident, and I’m a very clumsy person. We lived there (with my sister as well, she’s 6 years older then me now, and she’s married.) I think 5-6 years, maybe more, but I had so many memories that I kept inside that room of mine. Small rocks from where I visited, my clothes, some of them were given by my mother, from 80′s and 90′s, old news papers that was from 2000′s, and my father’s lovely discs of movies, I remember few of them but I know I watched all of them, my drawings from my school years, my pictures with my family, my favorite plushies that were given me by people who cared about me alot. I’m not going to talk about my past life, but more on this apartment, what happend in there, and how I’m here right now. So, before a week ago, my sister wanted us to come to her (now) husband’s city, since she was living in there. I hate traveling, because I hate to put bags and move, sit in a buss for a day, no, not for me, but since it was my sister’s special day, I had to. My mother didn’t wanted to go either because she’s sick, her legs and her back got broken by a car accident that happend when I was 13. Since then she’s okay, healed, but still has her problems, such as not holding heavy things, getting tired easly, more so and fort. So staying in a car one day was not for her, but she had to go, it was her daughters special day and well, both of us decided to accept it. I have a pet Budgie, his name is Charlie, and he came with us as well, because it became my sister’ budgie, but we were taking care of him because she was busy with her work and all that. Taking him with us was a great choice. I didn’t bringed too much, my laptop, equipment, some clothes to wear, other things that you took with you when you travel.  But I forgot one thing. My Graphics tablet, my drawing tablet, Wacom, and at the time I thought,  “Oh, I’m gonna be back anyways, might as well not take it, no one will steal it.”... I don’t remember when, but the first eartquake happend, it was two days after my sisters wedding. It was 04:23 AM. I felt the shake while I was sitting on the ground, talking with my friends, about some random shit that I don’t remember it now. I couldn’t realise how that was just, horrible and serious, untill I was... Too late. We talked about the earthquake for a bit, most cities that felt was alot, and one of them was my city, my home, and I thought “Okay, my apartment building is old, but it won’t fell, nothing will happen.” I was totally wrong. Then I went to sleep. Thinking that everything is fine. When I woke up by the sudden cries of my mother, I was confused, like wtf is going on, and my sister’s cry came, and my father who came to visit my sister for her wedding, looked at me like I’ve done something wrong, and my father, never looked at me like that, ever. I got up, asked what happend, then with a horrifyingly, my mother screamed at me, telling me that, our house, is now gone. I couldn’t believe it of course, like how can you believe it when a person suddenly says that you lost your damn home, a damn building, like how?? Then I learned by my father that there was a second earthquake happend, which caused my whole apartment building falling into cracks of nothingness, my memories? my mothers car? everything? yeah, all gone. Poof. As of now I’m writing this, I’m still staying with my sister, and her husband, while my mother is back in my home city, and my building? It went on the news, because It was placed in the middle of the most populated area of the city. My belongings? They are gone, with my clothes, my memories, my drawing tablet, everything. The only funny and grime part is the fact that while the earthquake was happening second time there was a thief who was going to rob some of the houses, I think ours but I don’t know, he died in there. Suffocating to his death, while he tried to stole. Does he deserve it? I don’t know, I’m no god. If you are asking for my neighboor, she’s fine, her kids are safe, but I don’t know what happend to the other home owners, everyone knew each other in the apartment so no one recognised the thief, that was the funny part to me. I don’t feel pity, not anything along those lines, I cannot, that’s just not in my book. I’m not writing this to get attention, or pity, or that or something else, I cried for days after ages, even if I was homeless, I didn’t cry, but this?  Not just me, my friend lost his home too, he had this bright carrier, a photographer and a videographer, a director, a streamer, he did so much, he loved cars, gaming, you name it, sounds very charming isn’t it? I am only happy, that my bird Charlie and my dear mother is safe, for other things? No. I slept on cold hard floors for that house, tried to decorate as much as I can because I didn’t know much about it, I couldn’t grasp the concept of it so, my dear sister while she was staying with us, helped me to decorate my room. She even put a smiley face on my flicker, I still remember the image. I am sorry, for to those who lost their homes, to ones who lost their important belongings, their loved ones, their pets, maybe even themselfs, I didn’t do anything but I am sorry, and no I cannot no longer draw anything digital. I don’t even have the head to write anymore properly like I did in the old times, my shining times of my day, I was going to get my drivers license, go to the univercity, get a constant proper job. A normal, teen adult life, that’s all I wanted, all I ever wanted, I never wanted more or less, and I’m sure some of you didn’t either, maybe did, I don’t know you, you don’t know me expect what I say, but, please, take this as a message to yourself... Always think that you are on your last day, live everything in the best you can, apprish whatever you have, care for yourself, your mind and body, everything you can. I cannot, not anymore, but you still can, kiss or, hug, or fist bump to those you love so much, call lost long friends if you needed to, drink your beer and look out for yourself, because really, I didn’t know what could’ve happend, neither can you, nor anybody else. I love you, I hope you live the best life, live in the best. I’m sorry again, making you read this long shit, but I had to write it. Good bye, and farewell, my friend.

[keefwho]

April 26 - 2023

8:17 AM

Okay straight up I hate how I’ve been feeling/acting lately. I’ll try to change my behavior today, whatever that means. Maybe I haven’t been very true to myself and that’s whats wrong. I’m not sure, all I know is I don’t feel very good. 

11:30 AM

Holy fuck I hate myself lol.

2:37 PM

Well here I am having another episode. One that will end over time but I know I’m gonna be in a dark place for a little bit. 

I feel alone and hopeless. For years I feel like my life has steadily been going downhill. Like I’ve desperately tried to hold onto everything I have but I lose things one by one until one day it’ll reach a breaking point and then it’s game over for me. People don’t care about me as much as I’d like, or at least I don’t always feel like they do. Probably because ultimately I’m a bad person to rely on no matter how hard I try. I feel destined to fail in everything I do. I struggle to find meaning in literally anything and the things I do find meaning in might just be coping mechanisms or otherwise unhealthy. I can’t even tell. All I can think to do is stick to my miserable schedule and wait for tiny moments of what I think is true happiness when I end up being able to gaslight myself into thinking I’m okay for a little bit. 

3:11 PM

Part of my horny problem is not even knowing what I want to do. I don’t just want to orgasm, I want something conceptually intense. Thats why I started leaning into watersports. I just love the humiliation aspect of it, no nutting is required to get my fix off of it. A lot of things have gotten old to me, like I’ve gotten much pickier when it comes to how scenes I like are portrayed. I wish I could get over this problem and have an easier time enjoying what I used to. My current plan has been trying to delegate horny behavior to more specific times. I think being a porn artist has led me to constantly seeking the sexuality in situations like it’s my job. I don’t want to constantly idea generate because it ends up getting in the way of wholesome times and burns me out on concepts. 

Another thing is how much more I used to enjoy doing things with other people. I erp’ed with a few people I wouldn’t have considered “close” and had fun, but that desire went away a long time ago. Partially because I always thought I was supposed to be giga horny and fucking around just to fit in. These days I like to save myself for more meaningful interactions which unfortunately results in less activity than I think I’d like. But there is no way around this. 

This’ll probably stop being such a big deal when I stop blueballing myself and finally do something. I think it’s been about a week of keeping myself pent up for basically no reason but at this point I’d wanna end it with something good so I’m still being patient until I’m in the right mood. 

8:26 PM

I am unlovable because I can’t even accept myself for who I am. I am alone because of myself. I will always be alone unless I can change. 

Honestly I wish I could have an existential giga crisis that either results in me offing myself or developing a miraculous life changing perspective. 

What have I ever done to deserve love anyways? Let down everyone I’ve ever known? Hence why I’m a friendless loser clinging onto to the few people that bare to put up with me. I don’t want to live knowing I will always end up with nobody. 

12:09 AM

Well obviously today was shit. Getting all my work done didn’t even feel good in the end, just pointless because who cares about when I draw my own OC? I didn’t really care too either so it feels like a total waste. 

I calmed down over the course of the evening but I’m still aware of my fundamental issues. Being inspired by what my friend is going through, I think I need a sort of change as well. I know how bad I am at hanging onto the past and how much it keeps me from moving forward. I more or less feel like I’m still meant to be living up to things that have long expired. For example, I still feel like I’m supposed to be a part of the TDS group and that I’m not allowed to move onto a different group. I feel like I used up my friend group slot and it cannot be replaced. I feel like that with friends I no longer talk to as well. I really need to move on from them. Yeah what we had was cool and maybe it would have been nice to salvage it but in most cases, things are far beyond that point. Ideally they’d turn into actual memories instead of current thoughts in my head. I’d have so much potential if I just didn’t consider them to still be relevant. 

Nothing is “used up.” There is so much potential in anything I choose to do if only I can see it. But that’s the hard part. 

[terriergirlthoughts]

to ex who cannot let things lie

i often find myself awake, sick to my stomach thinking about what you have put me through. not just from the three weeks we dated, but the five years that followed, where you constantly spewed hate and lies about me no matter what.

no matter how many months, years i stay silent, you continue to say things online about me. you say lies that i know in the bottom of your heart, you know aren’t true. empty accusations with no real evidence or even elaboration, just labels and buzzwords plastered over each other to build this big monster you insist that i am, but you never really knew me.

two weeks into becoming friends with you you were crushposting about me already. you asked me out, and i said no because i didn’t know you well enough. you guilted and grilled me about it, “well you have to let me know now if this is ever gonna happen because if not then i have to get over you.” i didn’t know what to do so i said probably.

i wish you knew that several people warned me about getting involved with you before i did. even our mutual friends. and even one of your exes, who you also abused. who you also threatened suicide and self harm to. i should have listened. but i thought maybe you’d changed. so i got to know you more, and a month later maybe, we started “dating” on christmas.

we dated for three weeks. you ridiculed me on my appearance, guilted me for my eating problems which i tried to keep to myself, and when i vented, (with consent to), you told me “well if you were skinny i wouldn’t be attracted to you”. yes you said that. you would blow up on me, telling me how terrible of a person i was for telling harmless jokes (saying “haha eat a bag o’ dicks” to a jab at my appearance). i would hang out with my roommate on nights i knew you were busy anyway and you would tell me how horrible of a person i was for not inviting you. if i didn’t respond to you you would guilt me. not just with vague posting on your blog about self harm and other grim stuff, but no you actually sent me art of you mutilating yourself and said “you weren’t answering so i got sad”. i was busy with college applications.

our relationship wasn’t all terrible 24/7, i had decent memories joking around together and drawing pictures for each other, showing each other music and stuff. in all honesty i never took it too seriously, though we said “i love you” to each other a week in. shamefully the first time i said it back i was drunk at my friends house, and it was over text. in all honesty i don’t think i loved you but i thought you were pretty cool when you weren’t freakin me out. it was high school, whatever.

but the bad outweighed the good, by far. dating you felt like constantly walking on eggshells. now, this was a long time ago, and i’m not sure what kind of person you are now, and if you’ve changed i’m happy for you and i congratulate you. but back then, you weren’t as kind as you should’ve been. i grew cold and distant, i didn’t want to be with you anymore. i broke up with you. i told you it was my fault and i was just bad at dating people and not to blame yourself, to protect your feelings. i was afraid of your reaction if i were to tell the truth. you told me you loved me more than anything and to let you know if i changed my mind, and that you’d always be there for me, that you didn’t want anyone else… then a few seconds later, you said “i wish i’d never met you, i wish my phone was lost forever, i wish i was dead”.

our breakup was as cringey as any high school break up tends to be. afterwards i offered you my friendship and tried to be kind. you blocked me on everything to protect your feelings, which i understood. still, i looked out for you in ways you couldn’t see, some you could. i wanted to be friends, genuinely, i didn’t want to hate each other, i didn’t see that as productive for either of us seeing we were in the same classes and would have to be spending time near each other anyway. i believe the worst i ever said to you after our breakup was “fuck off”.

things started going sour when you were posting about me nonstop. not just vague posting me, you were fully name dropping me to hundreds of people who knew my name. who knew who i was and my accounts. it started out with heartbreak-posting, sad-posting, which is all understandable. still i didn’t want my name involved so i asked you to stop and you did not.

months later, your posts turned very bitter, very aggressive. your friends and you joked about me dying, your friend even made a joke about a hit man killing me and you posted it laughing about it. you didn’t stop there, you made a whole separate side blog dedicated to posting hate about me. in one of them you said “DIE” over and over again. this all made me so sick and so paranoid.

months later, into the summer, you began referring to me online as your abuser. this came as a complete shock and punch to the gut to me. not only because we hardly even ever fought, and when we did it was you blowing up at me. but because i felt you had been the one mildly abusing me.

you never specified how i “”abused “”you. it was an empty accusation, no examples, no specifics, which i would have expected given how much you tended to overshare on your blog and in your art even, at the time. back in school , that year you made your final project about me and our “toxic relationship”. it was essentially a zine of you projecting the entirety of twin fantasy onto our relationship. which… was weird. but i had to stand there and listen to it and read it in front of everyone who knew it was about me. i wanted to disappear or throw up. i wish you knew what that felt like.

after the initial “abuser” accusation i could not leave bed for days. i cried constantly, i felt so fucking wronged. i had no appetite, i felt sick, it had completely destroyed me. the posting’s severity got to a point where my family noticed and became concerned. my mom told me she was going to text you from her phone and threaten legal action in hopes it would stop, from the death threats to harsh untrue accusations, none of us could take it anymore.

i even felt bad at the thought that receiving a text like that might frighten you or make you nervous. but she had made her mind up and what was i going to do. regardless of how i felt i also recognized it was warranted.

for years i would get random texts from friends showing me stuff you were saying. once you started with the ‘abuser’ stuff you didn’t stop, it had become concrete in your mind i guess.

flash forward to this year, i find out you are now referring to me as your “groomer ex bf”. how everyone in the fur community follows your “groomer ex bf” and how you were “groomed” when you were in the furry community.

i had the worst panic attack i’ve had in years. i could not stop shaking. man i thought i was going to die i couldn’t breathe. i could not believe this. the utter shock that you would even say something like that knowing it’s not true.

when we dated for three weeks, five years ago, in high school — i was one grade above you. one grade. we are barely a year and a half apart in age. you asked ME out. i even rejected you at first. we never had sex, our relationship was barely sexual at all. the most we did was draw suggestive pictures of our characters for each other. i was barely a non-virgin. we kissed a handful of times and held hands a few times.

do you… understand the weight that word holds? do you understand what that word even means??? grooming is something that an adult does to a child, preying on them for months to years, building a relationship with them to trust them so they can defile them.

to call me a groomer when it’s so painfully obvious that it isn’t true is just. an absolute new high score for you. i never thought you could outdo yourself. but you did. you keep topping it. i feel like next you’re gonna say i’m a serial killer or something. i don’t understand WHAT on this earth has you out here saying these things. but it has me in the same place i was in four years ago when you started accusing me of abusing you.

it doesn’t make me sick because i think it may be true, i know it’s not true. but the thought of other people believing you because they don’t know any better, and associating my name, my music, my artwork with something so disgusting and horrific. that’s what makes me sick.

i’ve worked so hard to build what i have now, i found myself in a community with people who i love and respect. the thought of losing all of this to someone who emotionally destroyed me for five fucking years over three weeks of nothing. that makes me sick. someone who has no problem lying to seem troubled. just like you did in high school, telling people you were “below the poverty line” when your dad makes movies and your mom home brews kombucha in your big ass suburban house. you are a privileged and sheltered narcissist and i pray to god you don’t do to anyone else what you have done to me.

[honeyblockm]

me and at least five other people on here (that i've seen): if no apocalypse on the dsmp then i will simply create it myself

anyways there is no title for this but the premise is eggnap and tfw you and your fiance (the one that hates you) have your other fiance locked up in the amongus bunker so he won't hurt anyone or run back to the egg while you guys desperately try to heal him of being possessed by the egg. also the world ended lol. except karl's not in this one he is out gathering resources n stuff during this scene.

I have a few thoughts on how the egg functions. as an entity. i didn't edit anything if anything looks weird just look away shhhhhh

: : :

“Quackity.” Sapnap’s voice echoes in the tiny corridor of the bunker. “Quackiteee.”

The way he says the name is still the same-- careful, warm, the syllables held the way he might cup a firefly in his hands --even if his intonation has dampened, more and more of his words twisted into something angrier. Crueler. Quackity tries not to let that ache. He’s had a lot of practice these past weeks, but he’s found it doesn’t make it easier.

“What? No words for your dear fiance?”

Quackity’s hand drops to one of the potion bottles strapped to his belt. Weakness, holy water. Weakness first-- unpleasant as it might be, it won’t hurt the way the water does. 

“You’re not Sapnap.”

“What?” Sapnap laughs. “What, man? I mean, it’s not like I got zombified or anything. It’s still me. Just a little redder.”

Quackity turns to look at him: the messy locks that have fallen out of his buns, red veins reaching up his cheeks, curling over the healed shadow of the scrapes he’d gotten in Quackity and Karl’s attempts to fight him off or subdue him. Sapnap’s moved from the back wall to the iron bars in the front, pressing his face against the metal and grinning wide enough to show his sharpened canines. The same ones he brings a finger up to poke at now.

“And the teeth, I guess, but I bet you think they’re hot.”

“I do not think the teeth are hot.”

“You totally do.”

“Did you think I would just-- just-- I know who I got engaged to.” Quackity nearly falters. Does he? “It’s not you. You’re not him.” Quackity drops down until he’s face to face with Sapnap. “And whatever the hell you are, I’m going to drag you out of there and make you wish you never touched him.” 

Sapnap scoffs. “You really don’t know anything about the Crimson, do you?”

“You tried to kill me.”

“I wasn’t going to kill you! Was just gonna take you to the Egg, I mean it’s not an egg anymore, but then you’d be with me! Instead of sitting around in this basement all grumpy and fighting with Karl.” 

“Oh, that’s so much better, isn’t it? Just let myself get fucked over by some creepy.. Plant thing.” 

“C’mere.” Sapnap sticks a hand out through the bars, motioning for Quackity to come closer. Against his better judgment, Quackity does, and Sapnap reaches as far as he can to just trace his fingertips over his cheek. “It’d make you happy.”

“Are you happy?” Quackity asks. Sapnap draws circles over the skin under his eyes, featherlight. He’s tempted to close them.

“I mean, I’ve just spent more time in a room with you than I have in months.”

“Sapnap.”

The man in question shifts, like he could physically press any closer than he already has. His hands stall, sliding down Quackity’s face. “You know the Egg-- Crimson, whatever --asks you to let it in? To actually join it, you have to say yes. You have to make that choice.”

“Why?” 

Sapnap shrugs. “Even now, I can sort of feel it settled inside me. It’s the same as the vines in the trophy room, as the mushrooms finding a way to grow out of the sand above us. I don’t think you can take it out of me, Q. It tells you it can give you what you’re craving for, and it’s right.” 

He turns his gaze back to Quackity, offering him a smile smaller than the rest. Sapnap’s eyes are still the same color as the day he really noticed them for the first time, cool and dark. Quackity lets him guide his face closer, until Sapnap can cup it in his hands. It's the perfect distance for getting his face bitten off, or grabbed and bashed against the walls, but Quackity doesn’t pull away. He hasn’t been touched like this in so long.

“I was alone, and now I’m not. But no, I’m not happy. Not until you and Karl are too. You know that, yeah?”

Quackity can’t nod, can’t bring himself to push past the dam that’s formed in his throat or the rapidly unspooling knot of grief that’s appeared in his chest so suddenly. 

Perhaps Sapnap’s already found the answer he’s looking for, though, because he tugs gently on Quackity’s jaw. Quackity lets himself get pulled forward until there’s nothing separating the two of them, not even the iron bars that Sapnap has stubbornly jammed his face through. A brighter time and Quackity might have laughed at him for how silly he looks, and Karl would join him, and then they’d get rid of the bars because they didn’t need them. 

Instead Sapnap presses a kiss to his nose and Quackity realizes they are well and truly fucked, the way you resign yourself to all the blood and death halfway through a horror movie, dread and fear and hope all at once.

“We’ll fix this.” He looks away to hide his tears. “We will.”