#'hey do you remember those times when you liked me?'

[dilf-docs]

It Always Leads To You

joel miller x younger fem!reader

summary: it's been a year; now you're back. how can joel be so sure of those old summer feelings in your eyes when there's a new hand holding yours?

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap, toxic relationship, cheating and infidelity themes, mutual pinning, kinda dark!joel, smut, p. in v., pussy pronouns, oral (f. receiving), fingering, manhandling, lowkey forced creampie, ANGST, the taylor swift evermore (2020) references go wild, happy ending cause y'all weak asses voted for it and i love to keep my citizens happy!

word count: 5,199 words

side note: my joel miller era is alive and breathing after this tlou re-watch i'm doing my brother swears it's for him but it's mostly me and my fic/womanly reasons, yes we love gaslight girlkeep girlbossing in here gotta say, finding inspiration for this amidst my wattpad duties and christmas movie marathon was harder than i thought lol. was it worth the wait? please like, comment and reblog to let me know! it's based on this request (they're still open btw!)

part: I / II

Holidays linger like bad perfume.

Your eyes wander through the streets: the roads you've got to call home, the ones where you grew up. They're familiar, but so foreign, it's hard to believe they're the same ones where you scrapped your knees at ten and kissed Joel just last winter. It's as if both timelines, your life, feels more like two separate lives, miles apart.

"Hey, you okay?" tender, from the driver's seat; you're still getting used to the soft.

There's a reassuring smile your way, his hand finding yours to give it a squeeze. You notice his palm is the same size as yours. It fits perfectly, but there's a ghost of what it feels like to have it all wrapped up, looming over your itchy palm like all the yearning's a joke.

You nod. "Just tired. That's all"

He sighs. "If I wanted you to lie to me, I would've just asked"

"I'm not lying" you defend yourself as his pickup truck parks on the sidewalk.

He makes a funny face, and you laugh.

"I'm serious, Nick" your lips purse, a thing you do when you lie, yet he still hadn't noticed, like Joel. "Don't worry"

He doesn't look that convinced, so you take off your seat belt and grab his hand.

"C'mon. Mom and dad must be waiting for us"

"Hey" Nick calls you out.

"Yeah?"

"Who lives there?" and he's pointing behind you.

It's his. Joel's house.

"A friend of my dad's" you answer, dryly.

It was last december when you stood there in his porch, begging. It feels like time has stopped ever since, and you're still right where he left you.

"So will he be here?" Nick asks. "You know, since he knows your dad"

"Don't think so" you shrug, "he's got better things to do anyway. Bitter old man" comes out, with more venom than intended.

"Oh! Alright, sorry for asking"

You come back to your senses, realizing you've shared more than you should.

"No, I'm sorry. It's not that important; let's just go inside"

Your mom and dad greet you as soon as you cross the door. Last year, you'd basically fled away before New Year's, with a poor excuse and a broken heart. They both greet you as if nothing happened, although you're sure they remember your tear streamed face coming back from Joel's house, where it all ended.

As your mom corners Nick with kisses and embarrassing questions, your dad whispers to you:

"Joel asked what happened" you quirk and eyebrow, "wanted to know why you left"

"Eh, it's not important" you try to dismiss. "Definitely not as important for a guy like Joel to know"

"What is that supposed to mean?" your dad inquires. You often wonder if they knew.

"Nothing" you laugh nervously. "Listen, why don't you go and meet Nick, yeah? Did you know he likes fishing too?"

The distraction works with your dad; the same can't be said about you.

There's conversation flowing, but through the snow covered window, your eyes keep glancing back to his own. The view is dark, and you ponder if he's fled as well, the town plagued with memories too painful to reminisce.

You can still feel his hands roaming your body, the lust filled gaze that hid warmth. Every time he touches you, you have to remind you he isn't there: that the lips that kiss you, don't taste like his, that the hands that hold you, aren't big as his, and that the face that looks at you like they'll never choose another, is one you haven't learned to love yet.

Joel's memory cuts like thorns: they sink their teeth into your heart, that bleeds with that blood-colored sadness you're all too familiar with. He's poisoned you. But-- isn't it his love also the antidote for this disease he's gave you?

You abruptly stand up, plate half eaten.

"I-I need some air"

It's cold outside, but you don't care. All you want to do is sit on the porch, and drop some tears, something you can do inside too, but the fear of your muffled cries being able to be heard stops you.

You walk towards the stairs, to sit there like you do on summer days, yet there's now a difference: the snow. So you end up slipping, falling with your butt on the floor.

You yelp, embarrased although no one can see you.

"Need help?"

That you're wrong, apparently.

You don't even need to raise your view to know who that voice belongs to: you know it like a record, spinning in circles on your head.

He offers his strong hand your way, and although the cold wind hits your face, you're back to spring on the cabin: wet feet, bright sun and beating heart.

"I can get up myself" you reject his help, pushing the hand out. You keep avoiding his gaze, so you don't see how he's reacted, yet you hope he feels bad about it.

You walk up to the front door, and it takes you a while to realize he hasn't left yet. On top of that, it seems like he's following you. Just what you needed.

"What are you doing here?" you question, but your tone sounds like you're offended.

"Your folks invited me over" Joel answers, "Says they got a special guest"

"Yeah" this time, you do look back, finding him to be much closer than you thought he'd be. Yet you stand tall, defiant even. "It's my boyfriend"

You savour the way his expression falters, before the stoic façade takes over again.

"Boyfriend?" Joel scoffs, as if you just told the funniest joke ever.

"Is that supposed to be funny?" you bite back. "What? Think a pretty girl can't get a new man?"

"Never said I'd doubt'it" he clicks his tongue. "Y'a could get any man you'd want, sugar"

Ironically, the only man you want stands before you.

"Right" you chuckle dryly, "I think it's kind of funny of you to say that"

Joel's eyes bore into yours, a clash of emotions circling in his chocolate orbs.

"Y/n-"

"Don't" you stop him. Then sigh, defeated. "Let's just go inside"

As soon as you both arrive on the dinning room, your parents both greet Joel. Then, they introduce him to their guest, just as promised.

"Joel, this is Nick, y/n's boyfriend" your father speaks. "Nick, this is Joel, a dear old friend of mine"

Nick, as the gentleman he is, offers his hand. Joel accepts, but you can see the barely desguised displease behind his eyes.

"Wow, strong grip" Nick comments before joking, "you can let go now, I'm not going anywhere"

The hidden meaning of his words, whether intentional or not, hit Joel in the face. It's obvious by the way he backtracks, letting go of Nick's hand.

As you sit again, Nick leans to your side and whispers.

"Is this the guy who lives in the house across the street?" you nod. "Thought you'd said he had better plans. But, see? I told you: no plan's more important than coming to your house"

He's always making jokes, trying to make you smile, but it's done the opposite now. The food has gone cold long ago, yet you cut through the meat with a violence so palpable, even your mom tells you to slow down.

The nerve of Joel, showing up to your house like it's nothing, talking to you like he's unaware of his spell on you, acting like Nick is some sort of competition when he pulled out of the race himself a winter ago.

"So, Nick. How did you two meet?" your mom adresses him, eager to know details.

"It was at a party, actually, through mutual friends. Not a very spectacular story, that I know. What's funny is, she asked me what hour it was. And what did I say?"

"He didn't answer my question. Instead, he said: For you, I'm available any hour" you answer.

Your parents laugh, but Joel remains quiet. You wonder what he's thinking.

"You know" looking at Nick while cutting the steamed vegetables a little too agressive, "y/n actually hates parties"

"Joel" you warn through gritted teeth.

"Really? I didn't know that!" Nick seems so genuine, Joel can't help but hate him. He looks at you, concerned "You didn't tell me"

You can't believe he would rat you out like that. The appropiate word isn't hate, and you don't know how to describe it, but parties aren't really your environment; if you can, you'd choose to be anywhere else.

He'll pay for that.

"Joel" you seethe, an ugly smile painted in your features, "did you know Nick knows how to fish?"

It's a direct jab at him. He feels stupid for letting you get to him. The inferiority complex towards some random guy he just met, years younger, is actually laughable.

"I like-" Nick wants to add on that.

"Well" Joel interrupts, looking at you. "You never taught me like ya' were s'pposed to"

"You never cared to learn" you reply, acidic.

He sips his drink, trying to hide the smirk that's formed on his lips. You can't shut up, and he loves you've stayed the same.

"That means I've got some classes to take" Joel leans back on his chair, relaxed like he's won this round. "Just tell me when"

The tension cuts like the storm that's just formed outside.

"You should stay over, Joel" your dad offers when he takes a peak at the climate, "it's too dangerous outside"

Joel seems indestructible, like not even a snow blizzard could pierce through the rough old man. But he agrees, much to your dismay.

It's probably midnight already, and all you've done is toss around the bed. Nick peacefully snores next to you, and you envy how easily he falls asleep. You've always find it hard to sleep, the nighttime plagued with too many loud thoughts that fill the silence.

You get up carefully, heading downstairs for some water. You sip with tranquility when a noise jolts you from your sit.

The wooden floor creaks, making you aware you're not alone anymore.

"Can't sleep?"

You don't answer, seeing his sturdy figure emerge from the shadows until the dim moonlight shines over his aging features. Silence settles in. Outside, the wind howls, bumping against the windows with violence, like your heart does now against your chest.

"Not much of a talker, are you?"

"There's nothing to talk" cuts your response through the thick tension, the air suddenly suffocating.

You take another sip, but the tremble of your hand doesn't go unnoticed by Miller.

"Right" Joel sits next to you, on the kitchen island. "Won't even look at me, sugar? You've got eyes" his voice drops, "use 'em"

"What are you doing, Joel?" you ask looking at him, tears threatening to spill, making your bright eyes shimmer with pain.

He gets up abruptly, like he's woken up from a trance. He's seen his own pain on your eyes, and he hates it.

"Joel?" you ask again, demanding but softly.

He can't answer. Instead, he leaves.

"Goodnight, y/n" voice raw, many emotions boiling, hidden on the inside. It hurts.

If you hadn't changed, Joel too stayed the same.

A goddamn coward.

Two days have passed since, and now it's Christmas Eve.

You kneel, putting the presents under the tree. Normally, your parents would have much more people around for the holidays, but thanks to the storm, it's just them, Nick, Joel and you.

"I'm gonna miss Mrs. Stone's cookies" you pout, "I wish she could be here"

"It's a big loss for tonight" your dad sighs. "Next time, yeah? Christmas will come again faster than you think"

You nod, still absent as he walks away.

"Hey" Joel pops up behind, seemingly from nowhere.

"Hey" you reply, voice laced with tiredness just at the sight of him. How will you manage to survive until New Year's? You have no idea, the task harder if he's staying in the same house as you are.

"Put this in there, will ya'?"

He hands you a box, neatly wrapped up. What stands out the most is the silver bow on top. Your stomach drops: it's your favorite color.

"Y-yeah" you stammer. When the present falls in your hands, you notice it looks like Joel did it himself.

"Didn't know you were capable of nice things" you whisper. There's no anger in your voice, only loss.

"I'm trying" is what he says, before leaving you alone. Until then, you realize he had been touching you, the skin where his hand was on your shoulder burning.

Dinner goes by swiftly, conversation flowing easily courtesy of Nick and your father, who both have in common the love for talking. It may be your brain messing with you, but his eyes never leave you, fixated on your every move, savoring when your lips open and take a bite; when you lick them afterwards, salt in your mouth he'd love to take off in a movement of his tongue. The ghost of your lips haunts him, cruelly playing with his yearning now that he's got you across the table. It's a few centimeters, really, but it feels like you're miles away: and it's his fault. You're no longer his, and he's reminded of it every time your boyfriend kisses what he once had.

Now it's time to open the presents, and you excitedly raise your hand to go first.

"Alright, sweetheart. You know I can't deny you anything" your father beams, "go ahead. Choose any present you'd like to open first"

Joel's eyes are on you, and you know he's desperately waiting for you to open his first. Maybe partly in courage, maybe partly in fear, but you choose Nick's first: something safe to start with.

"That's mine!" he chirps, and Joel mockingly imitates his kid-like joy under his breath.

You unwrap the present, finding a small box inside.

"Please, don't be another box" you joke, and he laughs.

"You think that low of me? Please"

You keep unwrapping and find a bag. The bag has a small tag that reads: Gotcha.

"Nick! God, you're so corny" you tease as you open the bag. Inside, there's a velvet box, and by the looks of it, you can tell it's jewelry. You gasp, pulling out a silver charm tied to a silver thin chain: it's a marlin fish. "Nick..."

"I know. Marlin isn't your favorite fish, but that's all I could find" you get up, wrapping him on a tight hug. Aware you've got an audience, he leans and whispers "I knew fishing was special to you, because of your dad and childhood. Maybe now" he takes it from your hands, carefully putting it around your neck, "it can also be our special thing"

Joel sees the scene unfold in front of him, his grip tight on the cloth of his jeans until it's white. His jaw clenches at the affection display; all he sees is red.

"What about that one?" your mom points out Joel's present. A pit of nerves forms in your stomach. "I don't remember seeing it there"

Before you can grab it, your dad moves faster, examining the box on his hands.

"It's Joel's" he makes a pause, "for y/n"

You pretend to be shocked, and you can tell Nick tenses at your side.

"You didn't tell me you were close"

"Used to" you correct quickly, despite the knot on your throat. "Not anymore"

"He still got you a present, though"

You don't get to answer because your dad leaves the box on your lap.

"Open it" it's soft but feels threathing for some reason, "I'm curious"

Joel's resting hands tremble as much as yours while you open the present. You reveal the simple white box under the wrap, opening it up.

Your voice comes out shaky as you call his name. And he can see it: the muffled laughters on the shed, the warmth of the cabin's fire, the fogged up windows of his car, the bruises on your tits and that voice, so vulnerable, he can see you on his porch, saying those three words that terrified him so much, his solution was breaking your heart.

"What is it?" your dad asks.

"It's a scarf" the fabric tickles your fingers that wander through the loose strands.

You remember it all too well.

"Oh, it's vintage!" your mom comments when she sees the worn-out aspect.

But just as your affair with Joel, you keep the secret of it's real owner.

"It's perfect" you mutter, remembering better times: ones where he'd wrap the scarf colored as the leaves on the ground around your neck, covering bruises he'd just made while you joked you'd steal it, and Joel would say he'd just let you, that it looked better on you anyway.

You've forgotten the good, so used to thinking of Joel at your worst, like a punishment to endure and sink your shipwreck even deeper. You felt lost, replaying memories that seemed stuck on a loop. Since last december, all you've known is pain; creeping up through the cracks in your fleeting happiness, one you've tried to find to no avail. One day, past the curses and cries, maybe there'll be happiness. But as for now, that day seems terribly far.

As he sees your teary gaze, Joel often wonders were it went wrong. When did hurt was all you had for him in that gaze of yours he can't bare to look that long, not before he's reliving all those seasons by your side, replaying his footsteps on the snow, grass, water and fallen leaves, trying to find the one where it all went wrong. The torture he now wears like a second skin, his agony painted words addressed to the fire of a house that feels so empty and alone.

"We should continue" your dad speaks over the silence, "there are still many presents left"

The night moves slowly, and the scarf you've chosen to wear is now suffocating around your neck. But you can't take it off. This is the closest you've been to Joel on a year; it still smells like him. As the presents run out, you excuse yourself early to bed, only to wake up again in the middle of the night. You want to pee, so you exit your room and walk to the bathroom, your bare feet against the cold wood sending shivers down your spine that only seem to augment when you walk past his door, next to the bathroom. After being done, you splash some water on your face, as if that would make some sense get to you.

"What are you doing?" you ask yourself in the mirror. Your tired reflection stares back at you, in silence.

You open the door, ready to go back to bed when a hand covers your mouth and shoves you inside.

"Don't scream" your cries go muffled against his hand, the calloused digits pressing against your soft skin, "wanna wake 'em up?"

You shake your head, so he lets your mouth free.

"Joel" you call out, but he's facing the door, his back all you see. No sound can be heard, aside from his uneven breaths.

"I'm sorry" he says, and then you hear the small click of the door's lock.

"What the hell?"

This time, he faces you, but his movements are so quick you don't register his lips on yours until it's too late. He kisses you like a starved man who hasn't had a meal in years, eating you out while your body acts up on it's own, the urgency embarrasing even.

"No" you pull back. Your mind screams in guilt at how much you want this, and that's all you can hear aside from his ragged breaths.

"No?"

"It isn't fair"

"To lover boy out there?" he teases, "I know he ain't treating you right, or ya' wouldn't look me the way ya' do"

"Don't, Joel" your tone is icy, "Nick treats me better than you ever could"

He laughs, darkly. "You know I ain't meant that" he corners you against the sink, the material cold against your bare legs; you don't sleep with nothing but an oversized t-shirt, despite the weather.

"Riddle me this, sugar: if he treats you so well, why are you so fucking wet?"

Your heart beats so fast you fear you'll die. He gets closer, his hot breathe prickling against your ear.

"It takes a man to please a woman" he tucks a loose strand behind your ear, "and I ain't leaving my baby displeased"

His fingers pull down the panties until your clit is exposed.

"Look at 'er" he traces a teasing finger over the puffy skin, coated on your slick "missed me, didn't she? Gonna treat 'er so good, she won't ever feel lonely again"

He softly kisses your neck, the trepidation and regret tying your stomach in knots.

Joel teases your needy core with his finger.

"Tell you somethin', sugar" Joel finds it hard to hide his adoration, "I missed 'er too"

He stares into your eyes while pushing two rough fingers inside your cunt. You bite your lip, holding back your moans.

"Need summ help?" he kisses you roughly, smirking when he feels your shaky breath against his lips. He pushes them in and out faster, making your walls squeeze tightly around his fingers.

"Did he ever have you comin' this fast? I'ont think so" he whispers against your neck. You whisper his name through labored breaths, making a smug smile adorn his features. "Good girl"

He proceeds to kneel down, despite the creak of his bones. You see him leave a trail of kisses down your thighs, your legs opening wider in response. His tongue gives rapid flickers against your sensitive bud, aware of the lack of time. He slurps the pulsing cunt, his head moving back and forth while he sucks, coating his moustache on your juices. Joel goes back to the quick movements, tongue knowing your spots and twisting fingers as aid, causing your back to arch.

"Fuck" you curse as you come, gripping the sink a bit too tight.

Joel then pulls away and places his fingers coated in your arousal in his mouth and licks them. He sees the obscene display in the fogged mirror, satisfied.

"Goodnight, sugar" Joel bids goodbye like it's nothing, kissing your lips that taste like you. "Still as sweet as ever"

It's New Year's Eve.

"You're leaving?" you sound so sad, Joel can't help but scoff. In the end, he'd stayed long after the storm had passed, your father arguing holidays weren't meant to be spent alone. So he stayed.

And now, Nick is leaving.

"I'm sorry" he apologizes for the millionth time, "but granny is sick. I don't know if she'll make it another year, so say the doctors. I would love to stay, really, but I have to be with her"

You understand, having lost your grandad years ago. But that doesn't mean you're okay with it: Nick leaving means a clear path for Joel, who didn't stop with him sleeping next room, and certainly won't now, despite not having interacted with you since he ate you out on the bathroom.

He pulls you into a long hug and a kiss that doesn't feel the same anymore. "Will you be okay?"

"Yeah" you nod, "I'll miss you though"

"Well, I'll be all yours when you get back"

You smile but it doesn't reach your eyes.

"See you, y/n. I love you"

Your lips purse after you utter those three words back.

Later at night, the house is filled with guests. The lively environment is restored, and you feel less confined to Joel's claws, so many faces to speak and distract yourself with, compared to Christmas and the past couple of days. You clutch the marlin charm tightly, mind busy wandering to places it shouldn't. Joel stares at you from across the room, eyes trained on you as he sips his drink calmly, like he's won; you don't know why he's keeping score if he already knows it. You wander off to the kitchen, and Joel follows you.

"You have to stop" you speak as soon as he enters, aware he would follow you.

"I ain't do shit"

You turn around, facing him. "Bullshit, Joel"

"Tell me, what'd I do?" he comes closer, and despite your erratic heart and fear, you stay still; challenging.

"You did this, Joel" his expression falters for a second, the weight of last december's crimes dawning on him. "Don't try to make me feel guilty"

"I ain't. That wasn't your fault" he sighs, breath dragging long like a cigarrette. "But this" he motions with his hands the reduced distance, "this it is"

Your breath hitches.

"We can't keep doing this, Joel. Nick doesn't deserve it"

He pins you against the counter with force, gripping the skin of your wrists until you're sure you'll get a bruise. Joel's eyes darken at the thought of your frail and soft body under his rough figure and belly, his strength and your weakness making the job of putting you under his will, so much easier.

"Don't say his name" he whispers, his breath laced with alcohol, "he ain't here anymore. Ain't nothing to stop me now, right, sugar?" Joel purrs as he steps towards you, taking your face in his hands before starting a heated kiss, making you stumble.

This was so wrong, but it felt so right, the missing pieces falling like dominoes.

He was your pain divine: you needed his hurt to bleed and feel alive again. Maybe the red of the blood and the blue of your sadness could paint your darkest grey skies with a happiness you've craved since you lost him.

"Tell me to stop" Joel whispers, tempting like a devil as he kisses down your neck, littering it with hickeys.

"Don't"

Next thing you know, you're excusing yourself upstairs and then Joel goes missing too, both inside of your bedroom.

Your dress was the first thing to go.

"Wear it for me?" you're about to answer, lips pursing, but he cuts you off, "and don't lie, sugar. Don't get too used to the bad girl schtick"

"I only wore this dress so you could take it off"

He kisses you desperately, legs wrapped around his waist while he carries you to bed, and the memories of your first flood you as he drops you down to your back, watching the way you bounce. He has you just like he wanted: moaning his name while he leaves tender kisses on the soft bare flesh.

"Joel-" you gasp. Despite the chatter downstairs and music, you try to remain low as he wraps his lips around your nipples. He then moves to your breasts, covering them with his kisses and hickeys. He hadn't touched a woman ever since you left, the feeling of the rosy innocent skin on his rough teeth making him loose all common sense, the real thing even better than what he would try to conjure when he fucked himself in the bathroom at the memory of you.

He groans when he feels your hands roaming over his back, nails digging on the scarred skin.

"Someone's eager" he teases, seeing your damp underwear. "Is this 'cause of me?" you don't answer, too busy removing the cloth, only for his strong fingers to grab you and stop you. "Don't be shy, answer baby. We got a whole new year, yeah?"

"I need you Joel" you whine, not laughing at the joke "cut the crap"

He pushes you gently back down to the bed. "So needy sugar, want me to help ya'?"

You eagerly nod, making him laugh. But there's no mock, only love behind the sound.

"Will you let this old man take care of ya', pretty baby? Just use your words, and I'll be all y'rs"

"Do it, Joel. Just do it"

You gasp as your folds begin to be prodded open by the fat head of Joel's cock. You curse, feeling him push in just the tip, the sweet burn of your walls welcoming his size making you grab his arms that stand at the sides of your body, caging you in.

His tummy pushes against your stomach as he adjusts himself, his weight sinking your body on the creaking matress.

"'S just the tip, ready for the whole thing?"

You needed him, all of him.

"Yes, Joel. I want you" You say and he pushes in slowly, feeling his cock fill up every empty space that craved for him.

You squeeze your eyes shut as his hips roll back pulling out about halfway before rocking back in. His sloppy thrusts pick up a familiar pace that makes you moan and beg for more, head falling against the sheets as his pace speds up until he's fucking you senseless.

Joel's brain goes blank at the sight of you creaming on his dick and the obscene sounds leaving your pretty mouth. Did he really give this up? He'd definitely go back in time and slap the fuck out of his past self, because there is simply nothing better than having you under him, screaming his name like that's all you can ever say.

"Does he fuck you like this, huh?" Joel angles his hips, resuming his brutal pace. Your body jolts with each snap. "Is he enough for you?"

"Yes" his stomach drops, dark eyes now hesitant, "but he isn't you"

He pushes himself back in, your eyes fluttering shut almost immediately.

"Tell me you'll leave him, y/n. Look me in the eyes and tell me who ya' really belong to"

Your eyes snap open at the possesiveness clashed with jealousy that drips from his sweat-soaked lips.

The confession falls easily, as meant to be. "Yours, Joel. Always was and will be"

He could cum just at the sight of your loving doe eyes.

Downstairs, the countdown begins, but in your room, all you can hear are his soft groans and your pathetic whimpers, and if the people would stop shouting, you could probably hear the squelch of your dripping cunt sucking in his girth with each thrust.

After a few more erratic thrusts, you feel his warm cum fill you up. Joel was always obsessed with how his cum seeped out of you and around his cock. Without thinking, his rough fingers push deep in you, making you yelp as he makes sure he isn't wasting a drop behind.

The countdown ends, and fireworks erupt outside as your head rests on the crook of his sweat covered neck.

"I love ya', sugar" those words you thought you imagined that one time, now real, so goddamn real his voice quivers and eyes get tearful with grief, "'S okay if ya' don't say it. I just wanted you to hear 'em. 'M just tired of wastin' my time"

He wraps your lips with his with tenderness you had only dreamed of. There is still a lot to talk and heal, but this time, his arms hold you like a promise. And you let yourself believe it.

Y/n's New Years' purposes: 1. Break up with Nick 2. Try to explain this seasonal mess to mom and dad 3. At last, try to be happy

[sarahsangelicdoll]

જ⁀➴ icky s1 Rafe finds your secret tumblr blog . . .

To say you were addicted to tumblr was an understatement, and Rafe had absolutely no idea why you were so addicted to the god forsaken app. After dinner it was as if the world outside no longer mattered nor existed. Laying on your or his bed and focusing intently on your phone screen, muttering ‘tumblr’ every time he asked, every night. It was bad enough that you hid your phone every time he tried to peak over your shoulder at what you were doing. Throughout the day you always stopped to check your tumblr. Falling behind Rafe as your steps trailed off and you checked tumblr. And shocked was an understatement to explain Rafes reaction when you sheepishly admitted you had more than twenty hours average total screen time on tumblr just by Friday.

And now, Rafe saw an opportunity. You showering in the washroom connected to Rafes room. Sabrina Carpenter blaring within his room so that you could hear it from the bathroom. Thank god his parents and Wheezie were gone to some event for Wheezies school. Sarah probably off with Topper somewhere.

Rafe leaned against his pillows, Xbox controller in his hand as he continuously eyed your phone, which was charging on his desk, left on and unlocked. He had an urge to go and look, but at the same time didn’t want to deal with your complaints later. And quite frankly, he didn’t want to get up.

But then, Rafe remembered. Remembered how you had somehow accumulated nearly thirty hours of tumblr screen time by the end of the week. And his urge to look overtook him as he huffed and threw his controller to the side. Rafe had to know what was oh so interesting on tumblr that you spent quite literally hours on it daily.

Rafe ran his hands through his greasy hair as he walked up to his desk. Ripping your charger out of your phone as he grabbed the flimsy piece of metal and made his way back to bed. Freezing once his butt touched the bed and his eyes widening as he read the first line he saw; “You gripped the sheets, pussy gripping around his cock like a vice as he spilled his cum into you, filling you to the brim.”

Rafe snorted as he leaned back against the pillows, his arm moving to rest behind his head, smirk forming on his face as he scrolled down and saw various posts, majority following the same theme: breeding. Rafe raised his brow and bit his lip as realization dawned on him; you had a fucking breeding kink you never told him about.

Adding onto his shock, Rafe nearly choked once he saw that your own blog had a whole bunch of porn reblogged or inappropriate writing, some of it your own writing. His eyes darted towards the bathroom as he heard the shower shut off, licking his lips as he looked back at your phone. Rafe could feel himself stirring in his pants as he grew increasingly excited. Now he understood why ‘Juno’ was your favourite song. The clues clicking in his head.

Your phone was quickly turned off and hid under the pillow as the bathroom door open, yourself walking out, towel wrapped around your body. “Hey.” You said simply, shooting Rafe a smile as you quickly grabbed a pair of panties, bra, shorts and sweatshirt from your bag.

“Hey,” Rafe mimicked, stretching as he got up from the bed, moving towards you. His eyes darting down to your ass as you dropped the towel from your figure and onto the floor. Untwisting your pair of baby blue underwear, however before you could put them on Rafes hands planted themselves onto the curves of your waist and moved down teasingly to your thighs. “No no don’t put those on yet,” Rafe teased, squeezing your thighs gently. You could feel his hard on pressing against your ass, only confined from his sweats.

“If you love me right, then who knows? I might let you make me Juno”

Rafe smirked as he heard the lyrics, ‘perfect timing’ Rafe thought to himself as he leaned down to start littering your neck with kisses. “Let me ‘make you Juno’?”

⟡ ݁₊ . written by sarahsangelicdoll, 2024 on tumblr! © do not repost on any third party website or repost as yours.

⟡ ݁₊ . four posts in a single day? i’m on fire today | only proofread once

[steddieas-shegoes]

what does a barbie mean?

for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt 'hanukkah'

all of my holiday drabbles will be from the bear hugs universe. many of them could probably be read standalone, but will make the most sense and be enjoyed best if you read that first!

rated g | 633 words | no cw | tags: established relationship, fluff

🕎🕎🕎🕎🕎🕎🕎🕎🕎🕎🕎🕎🕎

When Steve picks Rory up from her friend’s birthday party, she’s surprisingly quiet. Usually after parties, she’s bouncing off the walls, blaming the cake and ice cream and soda and goodie bags full of candy.

By the time they get home, Steve’s getting concerned at her silence.

“Hey green bean, you okay?” He asks as they park in the garage. Eddie’s at work for another hour, so he has to do this alone.

He got used to not having to do this stuff alone anymore.

“Mhm,” Rory answers as she unbuckles her seatbelt. It’s not convincing and Steve turns to tell her that. She’s not looking at him, though.

“Do you wanna talk about something? Did anything happen at the party?” Steve asks. He shouldn’t push, but he’s worried that someone was mean to her. Rory can handle herself, but she’s still human, and she’s still a kid, and words can hurt.

“Nothing happened,” she says, but Steve’s not convinced.

“You can tell me anything.”

Rory finally looks up at him. “How come Santa doesn’t bring Sarah and Rebecca presents? They’re good all year.”

Oh. Well, this is definitely better than he expected, and way easier to explain or fix. No one bullied her, she’s just confused.

“You know how Sarah and Rebecca celebrate Hanukkah instead of Christmas?” Rory nods. “Well, for Hanukkah, they don’t need Santa to bring them presents because the family gets all the gifts and they have special meanings to them.”

“What does a new Barbie mean?” Rory asks.

“I think it just means that Sarah is six and wants a Barbie,” Steve laughs.

“But how come they have eight Christmases in a row?”

Steve briefly explains what he knows about Hanukkah, which is not as much as he should know.

And they go inside and look up more information, because Rory is a curious child and Steve never wants her to stop learning.

And when Eddie gets home, she starts telling him all about how Sarah and Rebecca get to light a candle every night and their dad says a prayer and maybe they could light their own Christmas candle on Christmas Eve.

That weekend, they go straight to the library to get a book about the dreidel game, and make a stop at the store to find chocolate coins. Eddie tags along, a little confused about how serious Rory is taking this, but enthusiastic about playing any game that leads to eating chocolate.

The fascination with Hanukkah ends rather abruptly two days later, when she hears Rebecca talking about jelly doughnuts. Rory hates doughnuts with fillings.

Steve doesn’t bother telling her that it’s not a requirement to eat them for Hanukkah, and he gives Eddie a look to stop him before he does.

“I think we should just have Christmas like we always do,” Rory says. Steve nods like he knew this would be her decision the entire time.

Eddie leans over to whisper in his ear. “Was there a chance we were converting to Judaism?”

Steve shakes his head. “She did this with Chinese New Year two years ago and Dia de los Muertos three years ago. She’s just a curious kid.”

Eddie nods, immediately understanding and knowing that she’ll probably find another way to celebrate something next year, and many years after that. He was the same way as a kid, even remembers one year when he learned what Mardi Gras was and made Wayne buy them all dollar store beads and a King Cake at the grocery store.

“Can we keep the candles though?” Rory asks.

“Yeah, those are nice candles,” Eddie looks at Steve to confirm.

“Sure,” Steve laughs, fond as he can be over his two favorite people being so in sync, even with something like this. “We can keep the candles.”

[the-oblivious-writer]

Oh the Guilt

Sam Carpenter x Reader

One-shot

Summary: no

Warning(s): major character death and mourning/grief

Notes: Based off of this request: hey! i saw your requests are open (i am indeed busting). i was wondering if you’d do some angst with either sam or tara? maybe sam/tara spending the holidays alone because they falsely accused reader of being gf and pushed them away/broke up w them. but it only ended up putting r in danger and leading to their death? love me some good ol angst if you’re up for it! have a great holiday season :)

The Christmas lights blur through her tears as Sam clutches your photo to her chest, fingers trembling against the worn edges. Her apartment feels too quiet, too empty, the silence broken only by the distant sound of people celebrating that makes everything worse. It wasn't supposed to be like this.

Sam stares at your sweater draped over her couch - the soft blue one you always wore when it got cold, the one that still holds traces of your perfume. She doesn't deserve its comfort, but she pulls it on anyway, drowning in fabric and guilt and memory.

"We’re specimens to you, aren’t we?" Sam's voice had cracked like breaking glass, fear masquerading as anger. "I’m not letting Tara get hurt again!"

You'd reached for her, confusion and hurt painting your features. "Sam, please. You know me. I would never-"

"I thought I knew Richie too," she'd snarled, backing away from your touch. "Get out. Get out!”

The door had slammed with such finality. She'd thought she was protecting herself, protecting everyone. Instead, she'd handed you to them gift-wrapped - alone, vulnerable, perfect prey.

By the time Sam realized her mistake, she was cradling your broken body in the rain, red seeping into puddles around you both. Your fingers had weakly brushed her cheek, still trying to comfort her even then.

"Not your fault," you'd whispered, but those words haunt her worse than any ghostface ever could.

Now Tara brings food she doesn't eat, Kirby tries to coax her out, but Sam remains suspended in amber, preserved in the moment she lost you. Your clothes hang in her closet like ghosts. She wears your sweaters to sleep, buries her face in the fabric and pretends she can still feel your warmth.

The Christmas tree in the corner - the one you'd insisted on buying together - stands half-decorated, just as you'd left it. Tinsel dangles like broken promises. The star you'd picked out remains in its box, because finishing it without you feels like accepting you're gone.

Sam traces the words of your last text message: "I love you. We'll talk soon." Her phone screen has cracked from how many times she's dropped it, hands shaking too hard to hold on.

She knows she should let others in. Knows you'd want her to live, to heal, to forgive herself. But every time Tara hugs her or Kirby offers support, it feels like betraying your memory. Like she doesn't deserve comfort after what she did to you.

Sometimes, in the depths of night when the walls feel like they're closing in, Sam swears she can feel you. A whisper of movement in her peripheral vision, the ghost of your touch against her shoulder, the way the air shifts as if accommodating your presence.

"I see you everywhere," she whispers into the darkness, clutching your sweater like a lifeline. "The coffee mug you chipped is still in the cabinet. Your stupid action movies are still in my queue. I can't… I can't delete them."

The apartment creaks, settling into winter's grip, and Sam lets out a broken laugh. "Remember how you used to say these old buildings had character? God, you'd make up stories about the noises - ghosts having dance parties, you said." Her voice catches. "Is that what you're doing now? Dancing without me?"

Sam reaches out, fingers trembling in the empty air where she imagines you might be. "I fucked up. I fucked up so bad. I was so scared of losing everyone that I pushed away the one person who…" She chokes on the words. "The one person who never gave me a reason to doubt them."

The Christmas lights flicker, and for a moment, Sam's heart stops. She's learned to find meaning in these small disturbances, these tiny rebellions against reality. "I know what you'd say. That I need to forgive myself. That I need to let people in." Tears track down her cheeks. "But how can I? How can I when every time I close my eyes, I see you bleeding out in my arms?"

Something shifts in the room - maybe the heating kicking in, maybe something more. The tinsel on the half-decorated tree sways gently. Sam watches it, transfixed. "If you're here… I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry. I should have trusted you. Should have protected you. Should have been there when…"

The star for the tree - your star - sits in its box on the coffee table. As Sam watches through tears, a draft from somewhere catches the lid, lifting it slightly. Her breath hitches.

"You want me to finish it, don't you? The tree?" Her laugh is wet, broken. "Always so stubborn about traditions." She reaches for the star with shaking hands. "I don't know if I can. It feels like accepting you're really…"

The room grows impossibly still, as if the very air is holding its breath. Sam could swear she feels the phantom pressure of your hand over hers, guiding her toward the tree. The sensation is so vivid she gasps.

"Okay," she whispers, standing on unsteady legs. "Okay, baby. For you." She clutches the star to her chest, your sweater hanging loose on her frame. "But I'm not ready to let you go. Not yet. Maybe not ever."

As she reaches up to place the star, the Christmas lights seem to glow a little brighter, and for just a moment, Sam swears she can feel your arms around her waist, your chin on her shoulder, just like before. Just like always.

"Stay with me?" she asks the empty room, knowing the answer, dreading the silence. "Even if I don't deserve it?"

The lights flicker once, twice - like a heartbeat, like a promise - and Sam breaks down sobbing, sliding to the floor beneath your half-finished tree, beneath your star, beneath the weight of a love that even death couldn't quite end.

———

A/N: first request filled, ob-la-di (sorry if this sucks, I’m half-asleep)

[justmeinadaze]

Not Alone Part 3 (Eddie X You)

A/N: This Y/N is currently me and while out getting snacks I realized I needed to write this into existence. Maybe one day I'll meet a partner like this... If you're spending the holiday by yourself, know you aren't alone <3

Warnings: being alone for the holidays, mentions of grief, Eddie comforting

Word Count: 1056

Eddie Masterlist

Eddie heard it in your voice and saw it in your face when he talked about Christmas with his uncle.

“Yeah, he usually gets the day off so Wayne makes some burgers and we watch A Christmas Story.”

“Aw that sounds like fun!”, you grin as you take in how his face lights up. 

You loved seeing how animated he got when he talked about certain things but when it came to family sometimes his face would drop. He missed his mom and told you that his dad used to ruin the holidays most of the time by being drunk or absent all together. From what he told you, it sounded like Wayne was making up for lost time and new memories that couldn’t be made since his sister-in-law passed. 

“What do you guys do?”

“Oh, uh, my dad used to make a big show of Christmas and make a huge meal. Pull out all the stops.”, you giggle. “He loved giving us presents and seeing us smile.”

“Sounds about right from what you told me.”, he chuckles. “What about now? Do you guys carry on the traditions?”

“Um, yeah absolutely. My mom makes a turkey and we get to together to just talk and watch Christmas movies like you and your uncle.”

Your smile fell ever so slight as your eyes glazed over causing him to reach for your hand. 

“Well, after, if you want to come over and share a burger you absolutely can. You know you’re always welcome over here, sweetheart.”

“Oh, thank you, but I don’t want to intrude.”

“You’re never intruding, babe.”

After knocking on your apartment door, he waited, hoping for your sake he read the signs wrong but as the door slowly opened his heart broke. 

“Eddie? H-Hey, baby, what are you doing here?”

Your voice was gravelly telling him immediately you had been crying. 

“Come on.”, he murmured as his hand gestured absently out the door. “Come on. You’re coming with me.”

“Sweetie, I can’t. I don’t want to bother you—” Before you could finish your sentence, he collected you in his arms and began heading towards his van. “Eddie, wait! I’m in my pajamas! I haven’t even done my hair.”

“You still look beautiful to me.”

***

“I can’t put my arms down!”, the little boy in the movie whines eliciting a loud cackle from Wayne as he sips from the beer can in his hand. 

“You know, Y/N, my mother, Eddie’s grandma, used to dress up me and Allen in all those layers like one gust of wind would freakin’ blow us away.”

“Pfft, thankfully my mom didn’t hate me that much.”, Eddie teased as his uncle tossed him a playful glare. 

You laugh as you curl up closer to the metalhead’s side and take a bite of the fry on your plate. 

“Ah commercial. I’m gonna go smoke a cigarette real quick.”, Wayne announced before rising to his feet and disappearing out the door. 

“How are you doing down there? You alright? Need a refill?”, Eddie asks as he cranes his neck to meet your gaze and his fingers brush your hair away from your face. 

“No, I’m alright.”, you smile as you tilt up to kiss his lips. “Thank you for this.”

“No problem. You’re always welcome here, baby. You’re never a bother. I’m going to get that tattooed on you somewhere so you can look at it and always remember.”, he jokes as he pokes your side. 

After you pull back to fully sit up, he does the same knowing you’re about to tell him something you struggle to say. You always pulled away slightly when you felt like you were about to tell him something heavy. He thought maybe it was your physical way of protecting yourself. As if you were expecting him to explode by your news so you wanted to be able to run and be safe. 

Eddie did everything he could to make you feel physically, emotionally, and mentally safe but he understood that sometimes your mind won the internal battle over anything else. 

“I haven’t spent Christmas with my family in years. When my dad died… my family struggled to cope especially my mom. She’s strong willed you know? ‘I don’t need therapy. I’m fine. I can handle it.’ But…every holiday…it’s like she forgets about me. We don’t do anything.  I don’t even get a text or a phone call… Then of course my siblings have their own families with their own traditions and since my mom is in her own head she doesn’t scold them for not even calling either. 

For years, I called or invited myself over…forced the family to spend time together…but these past couple of years…I can’t do it. I want them to think of me first for once. God, that’s so selfish.”, you sigh as you hide behind your hands. 

“No, baby, no it’s not. Hey. Look at me.”, Eddie coos as he lightly pulls at your wrists and reaches out with his fingers to dry some of your tears that had fallen. “It’s not selfish. Like you said, you tried for so many years and it went unnoticed AND unreciprocated. You deserve to have someone put in the same effort you do and then some. Your dad always did, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Come here, sweetheart.” After moving your plates and drinks to the side, he collects you in his arms and holds you tightly to him, rocking you gently back and forth as he pets your head allowing you to cry in his embrace. “Everything’s ok, Y/N. You’re safe with me, babe.”

After a while, your tears stop as you both focus on the tv in front of you and he smiles when you laugh at the boy on the screen. 

“You know I did that once.”

“Eddie, no!”, you tease as you lightly smack his chest.

“Oh, of course. Put my tongue on the pole and it got stuck. No one had to dare me or nothing. I just did it.”

“Oh my god.”

The door slams shut as Wayne wipes his boots on the mat and grins when he sees you in his nephew’s arms before taking a seat back in his chair. 

 “Hey, Ed. Remember your junior year of high school when you stuck your tongue to the pole?”

[princessofgotham777]

Dating Jason Todd (Part Nine)

fanfic type: angst, fluff, comfort (ongoing)

If you liked the Titans show but wish they handled Jason’s story line differently you might like this fic!

Hey so this is in fact my first time writing fanfiction (idk what my life has come to). Sorry if it’s cringy but also I would eat this up cause I LOVE some good angsty comfort fanfiction. I won’t write smut. I don’t think I’m gonna do requests but if you have any ideas feel free to let me know. Also of course I don’t own any DC characters this is purely fanfiction. Thank you and I hope you enjoy. (I hope you like run-on sentences💀) (if you don’t like it don’t be rude just move on dude😃🧍‍♀️)

So story line, this doesn’t really take place in any specific universe but I’m gonna be pulling concepts from Titans, Arkham Knight, The Batman, Under the Red Hood, and whatever lore I remember from the CW shows cause I grew up watching those, then just my imagination of course. Reader is referred to as she/her btw.

Warnings: talking about death, suicide, depression, torture (it’s not graphic I hate gore it’s just sad), talking about intimacy (not graphic), struggling with eating, topics of grief, violence, panic attacks, PTSD, talking about religion

Part Nine: The Funeral of Jason Todd

It’s been five days since Jason was killed by the Joker. Kori, Gar and Rachel drove up from San Francisco four days ago. Bruce got back to Gotham three days ago. Roy and Thea would get to Wayne manor later today. You sat in Jason’s bed wearing his Silversun Pickups t-shirt. His bracelets you’d taken off his corpse were on the nightstand beside you. You looked to them and all the good memories they held. You then looked down to the air mattress Dick had slept on a week ago and all the complicated memories it held. You didn’t want to look at it anymore, it felt disrespectful and bothersome. You drained all the air from it and began folding it up when someone knocked on the door.

“Come in,” you say. The door opens, it’s Dick.

“Breathing in the five year old air?” He says attempting to be normal in such an abnormal situation. You don’t say anything in return. “I’ll finish doing that, Bruce has a question for you.”

“Fine,” you say as you get up and walk past him. You head down the stairs and find Bruce sitting in the living room. You sit in an armchair across from him.

“Y/N,” he says.

“Bruce,” you say with a sigh.

“I just had a quick question for you,” he says.

“Okay…let’s hear it,” you say.

“I was wondering your opinion on if we should do open or closed casket?” He says. His question takes you aback slightly. “I know the funeral home did the best they could, I’m just not sure everyone seeing him like that is the best idea,” he says.

“Closed casket, you, me and Dick can say goodbye and he’d want Roy, Alfred and Gar to be able to as well. But he wouldn’t want anyone else to see him, not like that,” you say.

“Right, thank you” Bruce says.

“No problem,” you say as you get up from the couch. You are about to go back upstairs when the doorbell rings. You look through the window to see Thea and Roy. You open the door and are immediately greeted by Thea hugging you.

“Hey,” she says softly.

“Hi,” you say. You always found comfort in Thea and your friendship. You grew up in Central City. After Oliver disappeared Thea began hanging out with the wrong crowd and got kicked out of her private school and then Star High School, so she went to Central High. You became close and you both ended up going to the same college in Star City. You’d helped Thea through losing her brother, her brother coming back, and finding out Malcom Merlin was her father. You guys had been through a lot and so you were glad she was here.

Roy had decided he wanted to be alone to say goodbye to Jason. Thea and you sat in Jason’s room on the bed. It reminded you of sleepovers you two had in high school and how you’d run around the Queen mansion having fashion shows and blasting club music.

“Can I get your opinion on something?” You ask her.

“Course,” she says.

“I took Jason’s bracelets when I found him, I didn’t want them to get locked up in evidence. I’m gonna put them back on him but I was wondering if I should put these too?” You say as you grab a stack of Polaroids. Thea begins looking through them. One is of you, Jason, Roy and Thea. Another is you, Gar, Jason, and Rachel from one of the many times you guys made pancakes. Another is you and Jason at a concert you went to. The last was one Jason took of you, it’s a portrait from your waist up of you in a lacy bright pink bra with a soft genuine smile; in it you’re wearing your pink diamond necklace.

“You totally don’t have to answer this if you don’t want to but we just always used to talk about boys and stuff…” Thea begins to say.

“Oh you’re fine, it’s you Thea you could ask me anything,” you say.

“Jason took this photo?” She asks as she holds up the polaroid of you in your bra. You nod yes. “Did you two ever?”

“No,” you say softly. “We made out all the time, we feel, felt, safe with each other and love each other but you know I’ve always been a bit scared of physical intimacy because of how I’ve been treated before,” you say. “He never pressured me, he was never weird or creepy about my body…he was perfect,” you say as you start crying. Thea pulls you into a hug.

“I think he’d want the Polaroids with him,” she says. Thea left and you got ready for the funeral. You wore a long sleeve black dress that went to just above your knee, you of course wore your pink diamond necklace and then simple black heels. You were putting on perfume when you heard a knock on the door.

“Come in,” you say. The door opens, it’s Dick dressed in a black suit.

“Bruce wanted me to tell you me, him, Alfred, Gar and Roy have said goodbye so you can head down when you’re ready and then we’ll close the casket,” he says.

“Okay, thank you” you say trying to keep it together. You follow Dick down the stairs. He points to the parlor where Jason is. You go inside and close the door behind you.

Sunlight pours in from the windows. Of course the one day Gotham has nice weather was the day you were putting the love of your life in the ground. You take a deep breath and then walk over to the casket. Jason wore a black suit with a white flower tucked into it. You couldn’t stop your eyes from looking at the “J” Joker had carved into the side of his face. A few tears escaped your eyes as you remembered the pain he endured during his final moments. You tucked the Polaroids into his jacket pocket. You held the bracelets in your hand as you realized putting them on him would mean you’d have to touch his corpse. You were disgusted at the idea of his cold skin. You debated for a moment asking Roy or Dick to do it for you but you reminded yourself it was still Jason and he would want you to do it. Carefully you pulled each bracelet onto his wrist. You didn’t want to kiss him on the lips; you wanted to remember your last kiss as warm and loving. Instead you pushed back his curls and kissed his forehead. As you were moving away from his face you once again noticed the “J”. You kissed the “J” carving lightly as one final act of love and comfort.

“I’ll see you again one day Jason, remember to save me a seat next to you in heaven. I will always love you,” you say softly to him. You think about saying goodbye but can’t bear to. Instead you smile gently at him. You pray the Hail Mary over him; knowing neither you or Jason agree with everything the Catholic Church has to say but you both were raised Catholic.

During the funeral you sit between Rachel and Thea; Gar was beside Rachel and Roy beside Thea. Donna turned up last minute and sat with Dick and Kori. You hadn’t figured out if she showed up for Dick, out of guilt for what happened at the tower, or to be there for you. Bruce sat with Alfred of course. Dawn and Hank were unsurprisingly no where to be found. You never understood why Hank disliked Jason so much; in your eyes they were very similar. Jason’s parents and Uncle Ray were all dead. You guys were his family. Alfred did the eulogy, apparently during Jason’s days of being Robin in Gotham he once asked Alfred to do it if he ever died. After mass you all headed back to Wayne manor where he’d be buried. One by one each person threw a rose into his grave; you were the last to throw a rose in.

Everyone sat in the parlor talking and sharing stories but you were too zoned out to actually listen to anything being said. You slipped away and headed outside to the grave.

“Everyone’s talking about you,” you said to his headstone. You sat down beside his grave. “I’ll never say this to anyone else but you going after Joker alone was really fucking stupid Jason. It was a dumb move…don’t worry if anyone else ever says that I’ll slap them. You should’ve taken me with you though…then at least maybe I could be buried beside you.” You lay down in the grass next to his grave. “Maybe in another life you never boosted that fucking car and we met some other way and fell in love and got married and got to gaslight our children into thinking Santa is real,” you say as you laugh slightly. Your playful laughing quickly turns into tears. You cry and cry. Then crying turns into sobbing and then suddenly the ground beneath you is literally wet with tears. You cry so hard you fall asleep there in the grass next to Jason’s grave.

Hey, sorry this chapter was so sad and dramatic but it is angst soooo yeah. I hope you enjoyed reading it and if you did remember to like. I appreciate any and all positive feedback, it encourages me to keep writing and posting parts. I have a lot of ideas to develop the red hood plot (I disliked titans plot line with scarecrow so I’m basically gonna lean more into under the red hood and then obviously my imagination). I also plan on writing backstory on how the reader met Dick and Jason and her time as a titan so if you’d be interested in that please follow me. If you haven’t read the other parts and want to remember to check out my Masterlist. Thank you for reading this series it’s super fun to write!

Here’s a link to my Masterlist btw if you wanted to check it out.

Masterlist

[onthewaytosomewhere]

thanks for the tags @cha-melodius @eusuntgratie, @kiwiana-writes, @firenati0n, @run-for-chamo-miles

(snatching the open tags from @caterpills, & @alasse9 while i'm at it)

your girl wrote so much this year ... 349 K words in 58 fics and 14 collections of ficlet friday ficlets (some of which have or are in the process of becoming actual full fics lolz) and a bunch more words in WIPs (40 or so in the folder) that are still waiting for me to just finish them (or come back to them) already! lolz - I wrote in 3 fandoms and 15 different pairings that have been posted this year and a couple others that didn't get there quite yet) - i've officially posted the last of my fics for the year so here we go

so this is a lot of fic listed here so we're gonna so put it behind a cut

JANUARY

Ring on His Finger, Putty in His Hands (RWRB, firstprince, 2.9k, E) - engaged boys that i had so planned to make a series and the rest of the ideas are still sitting in my WIP folder lolz

FEBRUARY

the second hand unwinds (RWRB, firstprince, 3.6k, G) - girldads fic for Hey Sweetheart challenge

i've got you acting like you want more (RWRB, firstprince, 3.3k, E) - brownstone era pre-engagement - the boys re-uniting after a week apart fic also for the Hey Sweetheart challenge

- like the way you work it - (RWRB, firstprince, 3.4k, E) - smut where Henry takes care of Alex

Setting The Bar High (RWRB, firstprince, 2.3k, E) - the boys celebrate their first birthdays in Texas (Becz bday fic)

MARCH

gotta sign 'em all (RWRB, firstprince, 6k, T) - fic inspired by TZP and his fascination with a lil pink book and the way he's so damn ACD-coded

APRIL

Something in your mouth (RWRB, fristprince, 3.7k, E) - fic inspired by the Nickelback song - Alex sees Henry at a party with a sucker in his mouth and needs to experience that mouth

baby just say yes (RWRB, fristprince, 20.6k, E) TSwift fairytale done for the brownstone's eras tour challenge (this was my first firstprince fairytale but i have plans for different one lolz - have a desire to do it better lolz)

MAY

Makin' memories I might remember (RWRB, firstprince, 7k, E) - the first of my not-so-much one night stands fics - this one has alive arthur and has the boys falling in luv with their one night stands

just a bit of fun (RWRB, firstprince, 2.7k, fic for Adina's bday - this all started from a silly convo and then became fic lolz

JUNE

and fight the break of dawn (RWRB, liam/pez, 6.6K, E) a southern philanthropy not-so-much one night stand fic (2nd in series)

JULY

2 is better than 1 - 3 is better than 2 (when we’re back at 2 wanna stay there with u) (RWRB, alex/henry/pip & firstprince, 19.5K, E) this is that alex/henry/pip (fristprinceS) incest-y fic i wrote for Tiff

my slutty royal (RWRB, firstprince, 1.1K, E) this was an inspired by art fic - strawberry helados by papiercranes

nights at the moonlight coffee shop (RWRB, firstprince, 15.1k, E) my werepire all-night coffee shop au for ficwip dark & cozy challenge

AUGUST

in the kitchen, at kensington, with those threadbare pajama pants (RWRB, alex/shaan, 1.2K, E) first in the shaan srivastava is too hot for his own good series - alex "beats it" to thoughts of shaan and his sexy pajama pants

bringing home silver (RWRB, fristprince, 7.7K, E) alex/henry olympics engagement fic (w/a side of southern philanthropy)

I'm gonna be a mighty king … (RWRB, firstprince, 878 words, T) just a silly fic inspired by a QOTD from a discord group

seeking the (sex) services of a witch (RWRB, firstprince, 4.5K, M) fic for ficwip 5K challenge - witch Henry helps out an Alex that may have been cursed

SEPTEMBER

a hug in clothing form (RWRB, firstprince, 3.2K, E) Oodie fic inspired by art - this lovely piece by Ash

in my dreams, at oxford, still with those damn pajama pants (RWRB, firstprince & henry/shaan, 3.6K, E) fic for the shaan srivastava is too hot for his own good series - henry tells alex about some dreams he had and that time he drunkenly hit on shaan - alex seduces it out of him

it's times like these you learn to live again (9-1-1, buddie (at the end), 4.4K, M) streetfigher!Buck buddie fic - came from combining 2 ficlet friday prompts

What if I say I love you (RWRB & 9-1-1, alex/buck, 2.8K, T) firstfire fic - meet the 'rents and "launching their relationship publicly"

on the kiss cam with you (RWRB, firstprince, 1.6k, T) another fic inspired by art - this comic piece by firstprnnce

thoroughly appreciated (RWRB, firstptince, 1K, M) a fic for the brownstone's firstprince week prompt “Did you get my note?” & secrets

help me forget for just a bit... (RWRB, firstprince, 1.2K, E) fic for the brownstone's firstprince week prompt silver & hurt/comfort - alex comforts henry with his mouth after he's had a rough day

you're still written in the scars on my heart (RWRB, firstprince, 2K, T) fic for the brownstone's firstprince week prompt “I can’t do this again” & hot or cold

OCTOBER

soulmates, star wars, and insufferable aresholes (RWRB, firstprince, 1.8k, M) soulmates fic where alex spoiled the death of han solo in his first words to henry - firstprince week fic

love & family is all we need ... (RWRB, firstprince, 953 words, G) Alex helps Henry through a memorial service for Arthur Fox - fox family feels abound - firstprince week fic

Schlorp of True Love, a Fairytale (RWRB, firstprince, 6.3K, E) a crackfic co-write with Mags and Tiff - this is what comes from when we put late night rambles into a doc lolz (soulmates but make it enormous dicks and stretchy holes)

But the words that he was whispering I couldn't stop from listening (RWRB, liam/pez, 4.7K, E) oh what is that i wrote another southern philanthropy - yes, of course! - another installment of my not-so-much one night stands series

these go in the keep pile (911, bucktommy, 1.8k, E) buck finds his old cowboy hat and puts it to good use OR my save horse ride a cowboy bucktommy fic

just a bit of full moon fun (RWRB, firstprince, 9.2K, E) werepire full moon sexin' - sequel to nights at the moonlight coffee shop fic

it takes everything i have not to melt (RWRB, firstprince, 1.4K, T) a first date college au firstprince fic for all-ships ship week

not because of some grand romantic declaration but because it feels right (RWRB, liam/pez, 1.2K, T) a southern philanthropy fic about a quiet night in and liam's feels

how meaningful the silences (RWRB, liam/pez, 1.2K, T) pez's pov of that domestic southern philanthropy

is this décor or a sex toy? (RWRB, firstprince, 2.8K, E) a silly lil fic that starts with pez sending the boys things for their new house and ends with them in bed (of course)

she has feelings about this, complicated ones (RWRB, junora, 1.8K, T) ooops! there's just one bed for all-ships ship week

not just a possibility, not just a dream (RWRB, firstprince, 5.1K, M) part 3 of werepire firstprince - this one with an adorable shifter kit that they adopt

NOVEMBER

I hope that someone gets my… (RWRB, firstprince, 12.9K, M) my AWY submission - message in a bottle fic

leaving no doubt that he owns this moment (RWRB, firstprince, 2.9K, M) alex lures henry to a victoria secret show and surprises him (inspired by a tumblr post that i rambled in tags on)

"Wanna get out of here?” (RWRB, alex/pez, 7.5K. E) a pez/alex college au bar hookup

Say that again (RWRB RPF, TZP/Clifton, 1.3K, E) so ... i ventured back into RPF as happens sometimes lolz - just pure smut

souls are not bound by simple explanations (RWRB, fristprince, 8.8K, T) A platonic soulmate fic where Philip is a good brother and Alex and Henry slow burn their way to a relationship. Told from Philip's POV

let me take care of you (RWRB, alex/pez, 6.6K, E) Pez being the great friend he is takes the very best care of an in heat Alex when Henry's out of town

gonna need you to tell me what you want to happen here (RWRB, firstprince & alex/pip, 7.8K, E) Pip reminisces, and Alex reveals something he'd neglected to tell Henry - pip had alex first

DECEMBER

born to ride (RWRB, firstprince, 3.6K, E)  trampstamp cowboy ACD (as this was called on my doc) meets and rides Henry fic that was of course inspired by a tumblr post and rambling in tags (also Leeks bday fic)

made for moments like this (RWRB, firstprince, 931 words, G) this is just Henry being sappy about his little family around the holidays

decorations and family lore (RWRB, firstprince, 905 words, G) Alex and the Fox siblings decorating a tree while they reminisce for rwrb festive fan fest

this year feels different (RWRB, firstprince, 1.3K, E) southern philanthropy soft holiday fic for the rwrb festive fan fest

Punch him with your mouth? (RWRB & 9111, firstprince, buddie, 1K, G) alex and buck are stranded at a hotel due to inclement weather and bond over missed food and feels for the boys in their lives (rwrb fff)

a lifeline through the holiday chaos (RWRB, junora, 1K,M) junora cuddling while watching a holiday movie for the rwrb fff (and Morgan's bday)

underneath the christmas tree (RWRB, firstprince & alex/pip, 7K, E) sequel to 3some fic where martha arranges a gift for pip under the xmas tree for rwrb fff (& tiff - cuz well she get all the sequels lolz)

bonding with his 'sisters'  (RWRB, firstprince, gen, 5.5K, T) Bea recruits Alex to help her and Martha find a gift for Henry and they enjoy a little bit of pampering. Alex bonds with his "fox sisters"

definitely taking a turn for the better (RWRB, alex/liam/pez with some fristprince and southern philanthropy at the end, 2.1K, E) pez brings the boys home from a party and when alex is on his way out he meets henry and well numbers might be exchanged my last fic for rwrbfff

everything he'll ever want (RWRB, liam/pez/spencer, 1.9k, M) a lil bit of holiday tranquility, softness and luv written for The Curio Cabinet rare pair exchange

Lights, Camera, Holliday Luv (RWRB, firstprince, 52K, E) pornstar alex and former boybander henry make a holiday movie and probably fall in luv (my big dec fic - my first multichapter posted chapter by chapter)

as near to peace as he ever gets (RWRB, henry/shaan, 804 words, M) in what has become a tradition when he's sloshed henry rubs off one shaan's thigh, oxford slut phase henry, written from a prompt for the Curio Cabinet that didn't make the cut for the exchange

a moment to savor (RWRB, oscar/raf, 845 words M) bb's first oscar/raf - some kissing on the couch that raf has some thoughts and feels about, also wriitten from a Curio Cabinet prompt

okay no pressure tag ur it to @adreamareads @basil-bird @bitbybitwrites @blueeyedgrlwrites @cactusdragon517

@stnichols @cricketnationrise @dragonflylady77 @dreamtigress @emmalostinwonderland

@england-would-fall @everwitch-magiks @firstprincehornyramblings @firstsprinces @forever-fixating

@hgejfmw-hgejhsf @iboatedhere @inexplicablymine @jmagnabo92 @judasofsuburbia

@mikibwrites @myheartalivewrites @ninzied @nocoastposts

@orchidscript @piratefalls @porcelainmortal @priincebutt

@seths-rogens @softboynick @sophie1973 @sparklepocalypse @stellarmeadow

@stratocumulusperlucidus @suseagull5914 @tailsbeth-writes @taste-thewaste @thedramasummer

@thinkof-england @typicalopposite @thesleepyskipper @thighzp

@tinyarmedtrex @zwiazdziarka

[mintiicinnamonii]

“hello ma’am! can i date your grandson?”

pairing: ororon x reader

synopsis: you’re dating ororon. citlali isn’t having it.

“hello ma’am! may i date your grandson??”

You and Ororon were dating; everyone in the Masters of the Night-Wind knew. The second Ororon saw you walk into their tribe’s territory as a courier from the Scions of the Canopy, they all had accepted that their hero Ororon was smitten. Everyone, except Citlali. Ah yes, the second most eclectic yet infamous person in the entire tribe. Being the tough ‘granny’ she was, the second she heard that you were dating her GRANDSON, she did not approve. Even Ororon’s pleas wouldn’t convince her. He even tried the ‘but Granny, I love them!’ trick. Zilch, zada, nothing. You could always feel her icy blue eyes staring into your soul whenever you so much as said hi to Ororon. Hell, when you two were on a date once, she was fucking SPYING ON YOU IN THE BUSHES. 

You knocked on Ororon’s door, clearing your throat as you fixed your hair. You were carrying a bouquet of Saurian Claw Succulents, since you knew he liked those flowers besg. The two of you were planning to go aphid-watching and haave a little picnic, since besides gardening, Ororon didn’t have many hobbies, and you honestly felt bad for dragging him along with your tribe’s extreme sporting tournaments. Poor guy. 

“Oh. It’s YOU.”

You froze, blinking one eye at a time like a gecko as Citlali groaned, hand on her hip. “Oh.. hey, Granny Itzili.. what a nice surprise-“ Even though she was shorter than you, she was still very intimidating, in a strange way. “Listen, messenger. I want Ororon home by 10 PM.” You piped up awkwardly. “But the aphids don’t wake up til 9:30…” You scratched the back of your neck. She scoffed, grabbing you by the collar of your shirt. “Oh, shut it, youngster. I don’t care that everyone says you’re perfect for my grandson, I don’t care that you’re well-known across Natlan. I still don’t like you! And I bet you don’t either!” 

Wait, what?

“I actually do like you.. I’m happy that Ororon has people beaides me that care for him so much.. Especially someone as dedicated as you.” Citlali’s eyes widened, letting go of your collar as she soghed, thinking for a moment. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.. Fine. Jst.. bring him home by midnight.” You smiled. “Oh! Thanks ma’am-“ Before you could continue, she cut you off. “But remember this, youngster…” Her voice darkened, taking on a threatening and protective edge. “I have eyes all over Natlan.” 

As you and Ororon sat watching the aphids, you marveled at the glimmer in your boyfriend’s eyes. He had loved the flowers, which rested on the side of the hill you both were sitting on. The night was clear, and a basket full of your favorite treats was at the ready. He looked so happy.. a smile slowly crept up on your face as you listened to him ramble about the insects with such joy. Your hand slowly crept to his waist, pulling him closer to you as you enjoyed the moment. Ororon was completely immersed in the moment, not paying attention at all. But you heard a voice from inside of your head. Citlali’s voice.

“Get your hand off there!”

You chuckled, removing the hand at her request. “Damn, she really was serious when she said that she had eyes all over Natlan.” Ororon stopped for a moment, raising a brow. “You say something?” You jolted, chuckling. “It’s nothing babe.”

[youkaigakkou-tl]

Yohaji Character Survey 2024

With the release of the anime and the end of cour 1, I figured I'd do the character survey again! You can see last time's results here, which was in Oct 2022

I'll tally the results in about 2 weeks, before cour 2 starts (Jan 7), but the form will still stay open after that

Since last time, over 2 years ago, this blog's gone from around 100 followers to 600+, and I've made a twitter (which now has more followers than this blog. u guys r still my fave tho <3) so I wanna see if I can get a bigger sample size

Some funny numbers under the cut if you like numbers too

The 2022 poll had 22 responses at the time I tallied the results, but I never closed it and it now has 32 responses

Of which, the most recent responses are from.... THIS MONTH????? WHO ARE YOU PEOPLE WHERE DID U COME FROM

Takahashi stan who answered this month i respect u so much. me too same tbh

I don't actually remember how many followers I had at that point, the only milestone I know is 300 because I made this post. I was going to make this same joke for twitter too when i hit 300 there but it jumped from like 300 to 600 in like 2 weeks and I missed my chance lol

But anyway I think it was around 100 because at the time I tallied the results I remember thinking "hey 1/5 of my followers responded! pretty nice ratio!"

Some kinda irrelevant stats: Because I set up google SEO for the wiki, I get to see search trends and stats for it and yohaji in general!

Impressions (purple) is "how many people see the wiki in their google search results", which roughly equals "how many people are searching yohaji-related keywords" because the wiki is almost always on the first page of results anyway

Clicks (blue) is "how many people clicked on the link to the wiki in google search", or rather "how many people clicked on the miraheze wiki over the fandom one, either because google put it above or ppl already knew its the active one"

(Don't actually know what's going on on the fandom wiki nowadays, I don't check on it regularly, and a few weeks ago fandom staff revoked my admin and removed all the links to the miraheze wiki when they haven't cared for most of the year, presumably because the anime is driving up viewcounts for the fandom wiki too)

So sort of unexpectedly, it's actually trending upwards week by week!

For the spike on Nov 26, I have to assume that's because of one of those tiktoks that blowed up

The most searched character (that brought them to the wiki, at least) after Haruaki is..... RANMARU?????

After that, it's Ebisu, Miki, Sano and Oota, in that order, all roughly tied in clicks. Massive spike for Ebisu last week and then this week of course

For a long while pre-anime, 2 of the top queries that showed the wiki were Seiryuu and Suzaku, probably because they snuck into searches for those names from other anime lmao

[allwaswell16]

[4 pics, 4 quotes, 4 iconic 1D fics]

Iconic fics by...

- haztobegood -

[1]

NailedByLouis: Don’t worry, I cleaned up the mess

Before Harry types out a response, Louis sends another. This time it is a picture. A selfie of Louis licking the blue frosting from his fingers. It is so suggestive, nearly pornographic, the way Louis is staring straight into the camera. Harry drops his phone on his face.

“Ow,” Harry whines as he picks up his phone and looks again. Did Louis intend for that picture to look like that? It’s a much clearer selfie than the one posted publicly. Harry notices a few tattoos on Louis’ wrist, the sharp line of his jaw, his piercing blue stare. Everything about the flirty picture turns Harry on. Blood rushes south as unbidden visions come to mind of what else those fingers, or that tongue, could do to him. He shifts around on his bed, surprised to realize he is getting hard from just one selfie. Harry’s heart races and his palms are damp as he types.

harrysizzles: I’m not sure anything about that is clean

NailedByLouis: Maybe next time you should be here to help me clean up ;)

[2]

Harry’s eyes turn dark as he challenges Louis with a fierce glare. It’d be incredibly intimidating if it wasn’t so damn hot. “I told you not to do that.”

“Whoops,” Louis huffs out a laugh. “I forgot.” It’s not like he regrets tossing the mic and he’s sure his fans loved it, too.

“The mics are fragile and I don’t know if I’ll be able to find replacements easily if one of them were to break, especially once we are in the Midwest. You need to be more careful with the equipment. Don’t make me have to remind you again.”

“Right,” Louis clears his throat. He really needs to get railed if this talking-to is all that he needs to bring him to his knees. Louis aims for feigned nonchalance, hoping his indifference will push Harry’s buttons the way Harry’s warnings are getting to him. He smiles at Harry sweetly, and taps him lightly on the chest twice as he says, “Well, I’ll try to remember next time.”

[3]

“Well, I’m sure Harold would look stunning in a wedding dress someday.” Louis laughs lightly.

Louis' joking tone doesn't ease the sting of the four people laughing at Harry's expense, especially when the thought of wearing a dress hits a little too close to home for Harry. To deflect from further comments about brides and dresses, Harry swats at Louis’ arm. Louis grabs his hand and holds it tight to prevent any further attacks. Unexpectedly, he twines their fingers together at their sides. “You’re right Aunt Sharon,” Louis grins devilishly, “I should put a ring on him so no one else can scoop him up.”

Everyone in the room laughs. Everyone except Harry. He might have found it all funny, if he didn’t want so badly for it to be true. It’s unnerving how spending just a few hours around Louis has made him feel more intense crush and desire to be with him. And all the while, Louis has seen it as a joke. To him it’s a strange situation of helping his friend's little brother to get out of an awkward situation. But to Harry, it had started to feel like so much more.

He should have never agreed to Niall’s suggestion. He should have turned Louis away the moment he’d opened his door.

[4]

By Niall’s third drink he has thrown subtlety out the window. He leans his elbow on the table nonchalantly and asks, “So, Louis, are you planning on showing Harry the Royal Jewels tonight?”

Louis laughs loudly, caught off guard by the brazen question.

“Hey!” Harry whines in protest. He gives Niall’s shoulder a teasing push in retaliation. “I’m not that easy. I require at least one date before I put out.”

Harry winks at Louis. Louis breath catches in his throat, laughter cut short by Harry’s coy response.

Answers below...

[1]

Nailed By Louis

It had started as a joke, just two months earlier. Louis had tried to make recipe from HarrySizzles Instagram account. It looked doable: no strange ingredients, no scary kitchen machinery. Just a simple layered lettuce salad. The result had been catastrophic. His friends had laughed so hard at the disgusting appearance of his salad, and after a few drinks, Louis had been convinced to start his own Instagram to track his food failures.

[2]

More Than a Mic Drop

“You dropped the mic last night.”

“Oh, yeah. I did.” Louis gives a little shrug. He tucks his hands into the pockets of his baggy grey sweatpants.

“That was really careless.” His tone is very stern, unlike his usual bubbly and helpful voice when he suggests Louis try singing a chorus for the third time as he adjusts the sound mix again. Harry levels him a serious look and suddenly the room feels too hot. “You could have broken the mic and we don’t have a lot of spares.”

[3]

Not Another Lonely Christmas

Harry should be more nervous that he’s bringing a literal stranger to meet his extended family, but he figures it can’t be much more awkward than Aunt Sharon’s Christmas parties usually are. Instead, he’s looking forward to having an extra person to buffer the conversation.

A knock comes one minute after eleven. He lets out the breath and opens the door. “Hi there— Louis?!”

Or, the one where the friend Niall sets up as Harry's fake boyfriend turns out to be Gemma's best friend Louis

[4]

The Prince and The YouTuber

The Annual Rosendal Spring Gala hosted by the Royal Family is the most prestigious fundraiser in the country. When a problem with the honorary foundation arises, Crown Prince Louis Tomlinson must pick a new worthy foundation on short notice. He discovers the perfect replacement in an unlikely place, while watching his favorite YouTuber, Harrysparkles.

@haztobegood

[oceanicwriting]

a christmas to remember.

part one. part two.

summary: it's a new christmas. your whole life has changed since you finished college. you have a stable job at a publishing house, life in london, and a boyfriend you wouldn't trade for anything in the world. who would have thought that a year ago you were so lost in the big city.

pairing(s): non-wizard!theodore nott x non-wizard!fem!reader

a/n: i hope you're having a great christmas with the people you love! if it's not going as you expected, i wish next year it gets better. tons of love and kisses for you.

. . .

ㅤㅤㅤyou have a couple of blocks left to get to your apartment on the main avenue and, now that the cold seeps into every uncovered place on your body, you wished that the idea of ​​walking hadn't been so appealing in the first place.

ㅤㅤㅤ it had been a long day of work at the publishing house. a couple of days ago, a new investor had arrived in town, looking to speed up his work in the city, organizing meetings every day. if someone had told you that you would spend christmas eve in an office with ten cups of coffee on top of you, you would have laughed in their face, because you would swear that something like that would never happen.

ㅤㅤㅤyou focus on walking the last stretch to the apartment you share with your boyfriend, who had not reported in all day. in your hands, you carry his christmas present, things for dinner and food that you have stolen from the cafe at work.

ㅤㅤㅤwhen you arrive at your house, everything is still as silent as you left it that morning. the only thing different in the place is a note on the entrance table that, when you take it, allows you to read: "excited to have dinner with you tonight. i left what you had asked me for today on the fridge. see you, bella."

ㅤㅤㅤyour boyfriend has gotten into the habit of leaving notes all over the house ever since you told him his handwriting was beautiful. he has perfect penmanship with o's and a's so round you'd swear he'd copy and paste them every time he had to do them. you liked it because you could somehow feel the love he puts into a piece of paper addressed to you.

ㅤㅤㅤyou had met your boyfriend a year ago, and since then, everything has changed. college was over, you found a well-paying job, you moved ten blocks away from the office, adopted a cat, and decided to spend this first christmas together. just the two of you. so much had changed in less than a year it was terrifying.

ㅤㅤㅤafter you've put on more comfortable clothes, you start cooking dinner. halfway through, your mother calls on the phone with your entire family on the other side of the screen. there are so many greetings, jokes, and stories to tell since the last time your heart felt warm with love.

ㅤㅤㅤ—and where is he? —your mother asks, referring to your partner.

ㅤㅤㅤ—he should be around... —the sound of the front door makes you jump, but you know it's him by the simple sound of his footsteps—. he just arrived.

ㅤㅤㅤyou completely forget about the cell phone and go to greet him at the end of the entrance hall. theodore nott is standing there taking off his coat and scarf. you would never tire of saying that those shirts are tight in the right places on his body. when he turns to look at you, a smile slides on his lips, and he welcomes you into his arms.

ㅤㅤㅤ—hello.

ㅤㅤㅤ—hello —he whispers, unable to hold back the need to kiss his icy lips that make you forget the rest of the world instantly. his answer is what you expected, matching the movement and pulling you in by your hips—. h-hey, my mom’s on the phone in the kitchen.

ㅤㅤㅤtheodore raises his eyebrows, making you laugh softly.

ㅤㅤㅤ—let me leave this under the tree and i’ll go.

ㅤㅤㅤyou nod, receiving one last peck from him. when theodore is in the kitchen, in front of the phone, your entire family loses their dignity as they fight over who talk to him first. it was so funny to watch that you couldn't help but step aside to watch him try to handle all the voices calling him like that first time they met him on your birthday.

ㅤㅤㅤyou don't know if it's because he's just arrived, but his messy hair and sleepy expression remind you of the first time you met him at the airport. that same day, he let you go, but you met again weeks later as if you were destined to be together.

ㅤㅤㅤtheodore nott was the boy of your dreams. he was so devilishly beautiful, charming, and funny that your entire family fought to get his attention, although he always ended up choosing you. it was always you.

ㅤㅤㅤ—we're going to have dinner in a bit. we'll have to say goodbye —he says, picking up the phone to bring it closer and listen to the complaints because he can't stay connected any longer—. goodbye, everyone!

ㅤㅤㅤwhen your whole family seems satisfied with the intrusion, theodore cuts the call and puts the phone aside. he looks at you, coming closer to tie you to your waist.

ㅤㅤㅤ—why didn't you wait for me to cook? —he asks, kissing your face over and over again softly.

ㅤㅤㅤyou laugh at the feeling of his lips.

ㅤㅤㅤ—because I didn't know you would arrive so early. is everything okay at work?

ㅤㅤㅤyou've been used to the monotonous, everyday conversation for a while now. you loved it. you loved the way he talked sleepily, smiling when you told him a story from the publishing house and kissing your face when he stared at you for too long. somehow, you knew you were meant to spend your lives like this.

ㅤㅤㅤ—i can't believe we met a year ago —you whisper, cutting off the conversation that had started a few minutes ago—. a year ago we saw each other for the first time and now we live together, theo. can you believe it?

ㅤㅤㅤhe turns off the stove, finishing the meal and approaches you.

ㅤㅤㅤ—of course, i can believe it, bella. —his hands take your face delicately and look at you as if they read the depths of your soul—. from the moment we saw each other and you read me as if it were the easiest thing in the world, i knew i was going to be happily chained to you.

ㅤㅤㅤyou laugh, being drowned by his lips sticking to yours, tasting the lipstick you had put on. his touch feels as anxious as it is happy from the connection that runs through your bodies. then, his hands are positioned on your waist, and the movement of his mouth against yours makes you not fall back on the little meows of the cat.

ㅤㅤㅤthe feeling takes you to that day at the airport, after leaving that cafeteria with the feeling of having forgotten him. It had always been him. theodore was going to be the person who, no matter where you are, would make you feel at home. he had felt exactly the same.

ㅤㅤㅤ—i love you.

ㅤㅤㅤhis voice, whispering near your lips, makes you smile and hug his neck tighter.

ㅤㅤㅤ—i love you too.

ㅤㅤㅤ—but lola wants to eat —he says, making you laugh and separate yourself from him.

ㅤㅤㅤwhen he walks away, all you can think about is how you long for the passing of the years to be together forever.

[verynastyspoon]

DAD!SCOUT x FEM!READER PT.1

Summary: A christmas get to together that may be the start of the rest of your life

word count: 781

Authors note: I don’t remember how long after the christmas party was so I just said 7 years and sorry I got bored of the original scour fic but if anyone wants I might go back to it.

•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º••º•º•

10 years. Its been 10 years since the last time you saw Jeremy. You live a single life alone, no kids, just a dog but even in your lonely life youre happy. One day you get a letter in the mail from Jeremy Willis. You hastilly rip it open and nearly scream when you read the contents of it.

‘Hey y/k I miss you. I’m having a little Christmas get together with all the team and I would love to have you there.’

You are ecstatic and quickly pack all your things and rush to the airport with your dog. You had been alone for so long just the idea of being with some real friends makes you happier than you could imagine. You have “friends” but they have never fought beside you, almost died for you, and would do anything for you. They aren’t family like they are.

You get to Jeremy’s house on Christmas day. You can hear the boisterous laughter even from the driveway. You rush to the door and knock which you are greeted by a handsome (and very haircut needed) Jeremy.

“Y/K!” He gives you a hug. “Ive missed you so much!”

You hug back and smile warmly. “I missed you too Jeremy.”

You walk in and see kids running about “Wow are these all yours?”

“Hell ya well most of them those few are sollys but the others are mine.”

“Do…you have a wife?” You ask reluctantly because some stupid part of you still has a crush on the same man you haven’t seen in years.

“Pff those dead beats are gone for good. Im raising these beauties all by myself.”

You look in shock and a little relief. “Jeremy thats amazing.”

You all sit down eating and catching up on on eachothers new lives. After a while you find yourself on the floor playing with Jeremys kids. Tanya is running around in spys mask and the others are playing toys with you. Jeremy cant help but fawn over you playing with his kids.

When you look over and see him he looks away embarrassed for staring. You wave him over to come play, but a few moments later the kids leave to go play with your. Leaving you and Jeremy alone.

“You have a beautiful family Jeremy.”

“Thank you, you should come by more often youre great with them.”

“Maybe I will.” there is a long silence between you before Jeremy speaks up.

“You uh got a husband?”

“No and I dont have kids.” you sigh “I just havent found the right person yet.”

“I know what you mean, I got 3 ex wifes.”

You look up “3?! Why?”

“Well the first one cheated, the second one was a bad mom and the third left me for a woman.” He sighs “I just i dont know, I know 3 is alot but I just have so much love to give and no woman to give it too. But now I have my kids and I couldn’t be happier.”

You give him a hug “I love that for you Jeremy.” it stays quiet again for a moment. “You know, all those years ago I had a raging crush on you.”

“Really!?”

“Yes, but I kept it too myself because I knew you liked miss pauling. After you said you would move on I thought about speaking up but I was too scared too…. sometimes I wish I did.”

“I had no idea y/k, I wish you did because well I had a thing for you too.”

You both laugh softly at your obliviousness.

“Would, you ever want to go out to eat or something?” He asks nervously. “I know it’s been so long since we’ve last seen eachother but it feels like you never left.”

“I would love too.” You smile warmly.

“Great! But dont tell my kids I want to bring them around another girl unless I know its gonna work, you know?”

“I completely understand. Having in introduce a third girl to the family sounds like alot.”

“Thanks for understanding.”

The kids run back and jump on Jeremy all yelling ‘DADDY’

“Yes? What’s up?” They all yelled about some shenanigan Misha and Herberts baboon got into, leaving you alone excited for what’s to come

•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º••º•º•

[all-pacas]

i have been poking at this for ages and i hate it but i am BOUND AND DETERMINED to write fluff someday so here we go:

(you might recognize the first bit, i'm pretty sure i posted it before, i've been trying to make this story work for a LONG FUCKING TIME)

-

Chase buys the ring a few days before Valentine’s.

It’s the sort of expensive, impulsive purchase Cameron likes to tease him about: trust fund brat, she called him whenever he’d come home with a new TV or one of those new iPhones, and he likes to play into it, careless with money he really can’t afford to waste, all to make her laugh and tease him in the way she does: What would you do without me? she’d asked once, spotting him twenty bucks in the cafeteria.

Nothing, he thinks. And: nothing.

He’d gone to the jeweler’s looking for a Valentine’s Day present, so he buys a pair of earrings, too. Pearl, because Cameron has been hinting, and Chase finds it easier to do what she wants.

-

Valentine’s, Cameron gets stuck with a double shift. Chase has two appendixes and assists on a laminectomy and should spend the rest of his shift on transcriptions. Except House is sniffing around the OR via Kutner and Taub, and somehow it is crucially important House doesn’t so much as lay eyes on him: Chase knows, knows he’ll take one look and know about the ring, about all of it.

He does a couple extra hours in the clinic to avoid this. Has dinner with Cameron in the cafeteria at the end of his shift: she’s tired and quiet and only has fifteen minutes to wolf down her sandwich before she’s due back in the ER. He’s wondering if he should remind her of the day — Cameron can get weird about this sort of thing — but she has to go before he can really make up his mind. Gives him a tired smile and a quick kiss. “Don’t wait up for me,” she warns.

“Because you’ll wake me up when you get home?” he jokes, hopeful.

She laughs. “You wish.”

-

He’s asleep when she gets home, late that night. Stirs when he hears the shower, but wakes abruptly when she jumps him, almost literally: straddles him heavily and nips his jaw and kisses him until he rouses: she is slippery and damp from the shower, her hair wet and heavy and cold when it falls on his cheek, his shoulder.

They make love and he thinks about the ring after. He’s sleepy but Cameron is restless after a long shift, tired and simultaneously too wound up to sleep: he tries to stay awake to keep her company. She talks about her day, about running into Foreman in the locker room at one in the morning. House’s case and his team’s all nighter and Chase doesn’t like that much: not the lull and hum of her voice recounting symptoms and gossip but the way he can hear her smiling.

“Hey,” he interrupts, not opening his eyes — “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

She breaks off; considers. “It’s two in the morning,” she teases.

They had an argument last year about it. She’d first asked him out the day after Valentine’s, he maintains: Cameron insists their anniversary isn’t actually until April. One of those little things. It bothers him, but he tries not to let it. Doesn’t matter, he’d told her: of course it does, she’d said. Otherwise our anniversary would be - what. That first time?

Why not? he’d asked, half joking, enjoying the indignant flush on her face. He’d like that, sometimes. To go back through the calendar, to push back the start of their relationship and make it so: not two years but three, five, six. He hums, shifts in the bedding. “I love you,” he says, and holds his breath until she murmurs it sleepily back.

-

In the morning he remembers to give her the earrings, and Cameron is appreciative, admires them nicely. She has the day off and Chase very reluctantly gets dressed for work. Cameron has been known to raid his shirts and sweaters for herself so he’d hidden the ring in the drawer with his socks and underwear, where he doubts she’d go looking: he bumps up against it while looking for socks.

“What time are you off work?” Cameron asks when he emerges, stretched out on the sofa with a coffee and wearing one of his sweatshirts and her new earrings.

“Not too late if we don’t get drowned in add-ons,” he says absently, looking for his bag and finding it behind the sofa. And then, experimentally: “Happy anniversary.”

“Don’t start,” Cameron sighs, and he tries to parse if she is more annoyed or amused or just hasn’t had her coffee yet.

Smiling over at her takes no effort, is not a lie. “Start what?” he asks, leaning over to give her a kiss.

She hums and doesn’t otherwise answer the question, brushing her palm over his cheek, stopping to fold down his collar. “Let me know if you have to work late.”

“I will.” Straightening, he admires her a moment: Cameron’s hair is unbrushed, she is wearing pajama pants and his sweatshirt, in his apartment with no intention of leaving. “I like you,” he says, and not marry me.

She smiles. “I like you too.”

-

He leaves the ring in his sock drawer. According to Cameron, their anniversary is in April. He can wait, he thinks.

[thatmexisaurusrex]

In Your Bed, In My Head

Hey, people. Here is a little BuddieTommy Christmas Fic. Fair warning, it gets a little steamy. Enjoy! 🥰

In Your Bed, In My Head

| Pairing: BuddieTommy | Rated: E | WC: 4.8K |

Summary: Tommy, Eddie, and Buck welcome Chris home for the holidays.

Excerpt:

“I promise I won’t let you down,” said Tommy, and maybe he was acting too seriously over a ‘Welcome Home’ sign, but it felt so important now, “I’ll make sure Christopher knows he’s wanted.” God. Tommy really was being melodramatic. But Eddie. Eddie seemed to melt at that. He took Tommy’s face in his hands, leaned over, and – Tommy lost a little time. He lost time and space and his own name. The only things he could remember were his lips on Eddie’s; Eddie’s thumb moving back and forth with and against the grain of Tommy’s stubble; the way his entire body seemed to turn to utter jelly at that kiss. And. Tommy found himself slightly chasing those lips when the kiss parted. Lost in eyes like a field of Odessa calla lilies. “There’s no way you would let me down,” whispered Eddie warmly. “Well. I mean. I could write, ‘Go home. We don’t want you’,” commented Tommy, because he really couldn’t help himself. Which earned him a bark of a laugh and a light shove from Eddie. “Stop. No. I know you won’t do that,” laughed Eddie.

READ THE REST ON AO3!

[herpartnerintime]

I’m more convinced than ever on the Safi Theory

I played Double Exposure on Bay AND Bae and took a look at the friendship texts and let’s just say, this only made me more positive of the Safi theory.

So first of all, after you tell Safi about your Bae or Bay choice, you can find her looking at a blue butterfly on her phone. Chloe has always been symbolized by the blue butterfly, Max even uses a blue butterfly for Chloe’s phone photo. Safi is clearly snooping just like Max does. But it goes way deeper. You really have to read the texts on both friendship bae and romantic bae, to first of all pick up on how things went from really good to suddenly, very, very strange very very quickly. It all starts on Valentine’s Day. Let’s start friendship bae. Max is out. She is NOT out with Chloe. She’s alone. Valentine’s Day chocolate is on sale so Max is asking Chloe in texts how much she think she can eat. Chloe realizes the time and says there was an exhibit this week and the tickets were on sale. She was going to take Max as a surprise. She’s disappointed she missed it. That’s when Max says this Well, if you want to go get up in time to get those tickets I can make that happen This is what triggers everything to go wrong. Chloe gets upset, saying she doesn’t need Max to rewind and she’s a big girl and she can live with her mistakes. Max is all like what is that supposed to mean? Chloe’s all like i didn’t mean it like that and Max is all like there’s a place on the coast we used to call home that says otherwise. Chloe then says how many times do I have to tell u that I never asked u make that choice? i never wouldve asked u to do that. I was feeling confused. Chloe gave Max the choice. Why was she saying that? She let Max choose. She didn’t try and force Max to let her die. She told her to choose. She made it clear whatever she decided would be the right choice. It felt crucial to me this was happening in texts and not in person.

Chloe agrees to Max bringing chocolate after the fight.

And remember how I said it’s crucial to keep in mind they weren’t together when this happened? Well… ”Hey, where’d you run off to?” ”my stomach was rumbling and I didn’t want to wake u ”That never stopped u before”

Chloe behaves out of character, leaves to who knows where, and declares maybe she’s turning a new leaf. She says the motel room is on your card and she didn’t want Max to be liable. Max is and Chloe are joking a bit, with Max saying “Chloe I think your phone has been hacked blink twice if you’re in trouble.” They go back and forth and everything is pleasant. Chloe goes to bring Max gooey butter cake and ribs. Max is like Okay I didn’t mean to Wow me that fast. How did you pull those out of your ass immedately? Chloe is like I knew you’d want me to bring you something and I’m very good at google. Max tells Chloe she’s the best and she’s oddly like ‘yeah… I’m really something” And yeah that’s that. The next time Max hears from Chloe, it’s a post card break up.

Again, weird how this happens when they’re apart isn’t it? Now on romantic bae? Max is again up early. They are apart, Max went to a cute coffee shop. She wants to live with Chloe here. Chloe is all like ‘u askin me to move in with u for good? On VALENTNE’S Day? Max is shocked it’s today. She didn’t know. Chloe isn’t sure. She thinks it seems final. It’s a weird reaction, given they already do live together.

Chloe then out of nowhere asks Max if she’d just rewind until she said yes.

Max is shocked. She says she could never and how could you even ask me that? This is time for you all to remember. On Friendship Bae, Max brings up using her powers to get Chloe tickets. Max…or someone impersonating Max… is planting the idea in Chloe’s head Max is still using her powers in such a careless way. This feels very clear to me, as Max says in the game both in her own thoughts and to Safi she has NOT touched her powers since the storm. If Max HAD been been using her powers, or been okay with still using them, Chloe’s feelings wouldn’t have taken her by surprise but it is very clear Max is very blindsided by this, by Chloe questioning her, distrusting her. It’s very clear in her response, how shocked she is, how hurt, that Max has not been using her powers, which again begs the question, who is? Who is causing all this distrust?

On the romantic Bae, just like the friendship Bae, Chloe disappears on Max. Max again comments this isn’t like Chloe not to wake her. Chloe says she is turning a new leaf. The same convo happens basically, Chloe ends up getting Max some food and says I’m really something when Chloe says she’s the best… and then she dips out. Here’s what I want you to focus on. These strange interactions happen when they’re APART.

Or if they happen in person, Max has no memory. The Lis2 photo.

When Max looks at the photo of her and Chloe, she thinks about how she’s happy to remember the photo, but NOT the blow out fight they had afterwards. Why can’t she remember anything about that fight, only the photo itself?

And speaking of photos, how come she looks at the Joyce photo and thinks about how Chloe never looked at her the same upon finding out Joyce died? Chloe knew Joyce died. She gave her the choice, she comforted her with that gentle smile when they left the town. She knew Joyce was gone… Who planted that idea in Max’s head?

Ideas are being planted in both the heads of Max and Chloe, things that aren’t true, but somebody is causing it. Who? Let’s talk about Safi.

Let’s talk about Safi knowing she’s a shapeshifter, knowing we can’t trust her, and knowing things go out of nowhere weird and funky with Max and Chloe, and get a load of this.

Picture it. I’m sitting in President Fayyad’s office on my first day, and in comes this girl in acid wash jeans and a Dolce and Gabanana jacket. She says hi to me like we’ve been best friends for years, reaches over the President’s desk and snags her keys and announces she’s “taking the car and her too.” They then go out and have ice cream together.

Isn’t it interesting Safi acts like they’ve known each other for years right away? Isn’t it strange considering they both have powers? What are the odds? And what are the odds Safi would show up, literally lay eyes on Max and be like let’s go for ice cream??

This entry tells us something too ”When I met Yasmin Fayyad at my show in Boston I had no idea she was the president of a prestigious liberal arts College, she was just some hot older lady who seemed to really want to be my friend.” I think Safi was being her mom here. The wording is to odd, why would she want to be Max’s friend? Yasmin might want Max at Caledon because of her talent, but the wording of really wanting to be my friend sounds more like Safi… Max even thinking Yasmin is hot feels weird, but may make sense if she’s really Safi… Safi needed Max at Caledon. But why?

Now let’s talk about the weird threesome thing, where Chloe shocks Max by suggesting they have a threesome with a guy. She’s joking, but the vibe feels odd. “You’re MINE, bitch!” That does feel like Chloe, but I feel sus of this moment. Every moment has to count of what they include of Max and Chloe in the journal, so WHY THAT? I think that wasn’t Chloe in that moment either. It was Safi. Safi was somehow aware of what Max was, and was lurking, trying to figure out how to get to her, get her away from Chloe. On Bay, Max is alone and isolated. On Bae, she’s not alone. That’s a problem. A big problem. Safi would have to get to know her prey, slowly and surely. Chloe would be a threat, a threat that needed to be taken care of the way Safi knows how. But Safi didn’t know about Max’s powers! And why would you trust Safi, after what she did to Gwen? After what she did to Robbie? Her desire for revenge on Lucas was justified, but the way she went about it revealed a dark side. She was willing to hurt a child she had even babysat and been close too, willing to hurt him to hurt Lucas. She was willing to frame Gwen. And let’s talk about the storm. Let’s ask why Max killed Safi. We never found out why, since Max refused to do it, but a Max out there was willing to do it. Why? If this theory is true.. it is not hard to guess why Max may have killed her… did a Max realize her plan? What was the third timeline in the polaroids Max can find? Let’s think about how Safi… she seems remorseful one moment for the hurt she’s caused, then she’s speaking of how she and Max could be gods. Her masks slips, and she reveals what she truly wants. Her and Max. Side by side. What she wanted all along? Whatever Max decides, Safi leaves. And a Chloe text comes… one that feels oddly out of character in that Chloe should be way more worried, but a text I question, was that Chloe? Or Safi? The game isn’t over yet, is it? For Safi, it’s only just beginning.

Wake Up Neo - She’s been possibly Photo Resetting Max

We haven’t talked about another very crucial detail yet. Max keeps waking up… Before you choose Bay or Bae, Max wakes up literally.

The same way she wakes up when she alters a photo and her present changes and adjusts. Well, well, well. Would you look at that. Safi snoops in Max’s wallet…. and suddenly… Max wakes up. Did you catch that little detail? It’s all I’ve been able to think about.

Safi looks in Max’s wallet. Sees the Lis2 photo. Max wakes up.

We don’t know… Safi’s power, what happens when she shifts into someone with powers? Can she use them? Did Safi focus her way into the photo as Max, cause a fight, which is why Max can’t remember, then the past was altered and Max’s present altered. Is THAT why Max wakes up before THAT choice? You may ask what this means for the Bay ending, but there’s many possibilities. With the future having two timelines and a third timeline, time is getting all messy even before Max in the game officially experiences it herself.

I still have so many questions. I don’t know if I’m right. But something in me tells me this break up was not what it appears. I even wonder if there was a time loop happening, over and over, with each new loop Safi managed to erase away more of Max and Chloe’s past until only one photo remained on Bae? Or is that the result of Safi as Max altering Max’s past with her photos over and over? With it likely Bay and Bae either merged with Dead and Alive timelines or will merge soon, time could be messy and disjointed as well. Safi has been messing with time a LOT which could explain the storm.

Max wakes up a few more times like this, suggesting more of her photos are being altered. Safi is trying to force Max to move on from Chloe.

I know a lot of fans in their hurt and anger over the break up may dismiss this. I’ve been feeling a lot like Alderman as I feel like I’m losing my mind as everyone denies what I see in front of my very eyes. If they wanted to break the girls up, they could have made the journals and texts totally different, but they made them as strange as possible, they truly made it feel like Max and Chloe were being impersonated at different points, all with the goal of isolating Max and getting her alone at Caledon, with Safi ready to be Max’s ‘new’ bestie.

You know, on both friendship and romantic bae, it’s also clear they’re in love. They still sleep in bed together and they still are in love, perhaps the only difference is they didn’t get around to saying it until Safi came along… I don’t know what the future holds for Lis given recent news regarding the DE team, I don’t know if the next game was already in development and on the way or not or what happens next. But I will see the truth. I won’t let the hurt blind me. Playing as Max again felt so good, and I felt like I saw so many clues. Safi quotes Chloe… she knows so much about them both, even if she pretends she doesn’t. I think Safi wanted the storm. I know she’s up to something. She wants Max.

In both Bay and Bae, Max can find the polaroid where ‘Safi’ breaks up with Chloe as Max.. some truth coming out in the dream? Something tells me… Rihanna’s new lead role… Chloe has a lot to discover. I think she’s going to realize what happened first. And Chloe may meet up with Steph and Alex. And Alex may be the only one with the powers to stop her…

I even wonder at times if Caledon is even real. But an illusion itself, which I wonder from the music itself… sometimes I hear notes of the lis1 nightmare playing in Caledon… Is any of this real? I don’t know. I just know there’s a lot of odd things that placed together, feels sus!

Safi even writes in text just like Chloe, not capitals and she always spelling you as ‘u’ like Chloe. It’s like she’s trying to play the role of Max’s bestie… Studying Max, it makes sense she’d want to emulate the girl Max loves…

Maybe I believe this theory so hard because it has to be. My biggest fear is if this theory is wrong, I don’t want next game to fully canonize their relationship fell apart, as the idea of them canonizing that but them ‘getting back together’ upsets me as I want no part in the way their relationship was portrayed. This theory, or some kind of supernatural explanation, could save it for me. But I don’t know. I hope so badly I am right… all we really have to go on is a few tiny journal entries, texts, and a letter. But there are clues within those.

People are either accepting the break up as being done because they ‘hate Max or Chloe’ or accepting the break up because ‘not all relationships work out or last forever’ but very few are questioning the things that don’t add up or feel sus, like again Friendship Bae Max offering to use her powers for tickets, while she says and thinks in game she hasn’t used her powers since the storm and they shouldn’t be used carelessly, suggesting she was being impersonated in that moment. With a shape shifter running around, I question everything. I can’t accept anything at face value. Both Max and Chloe can come off as being impersonated, if you pay attention to the clues and context…

[harleiquina]

Hey! I'm late for the party (because being overworked and underpaid sucks and always ends up in burnout -not fully recovered as of now, just with spare time because its Christmas, I'm working and nobody is calling so I can delve in Tumblr as much as my heart desires-).

First of all... I wrote my original reply around 2 or 3 am because my dog woke me up and I couldn't fall asleep again. So probably I had a point and eventually lead to something else because... sleepy brain goes brr.

About the writing

It is true that between saying it or just leave it out the text, leaving it out of the text is the safer option. There is also the posibility that it was planting an idea that never truly came to be so it is just dangling there with no other purpose... it happened to me a few times that I plant a seed of something in a story and then completely forget about it and sometimes I remember and remove it. I don't know how the time frame and due dates are in the process of creating a comic (if it was written arch per arch or if NG had all planned out and later came up with the different issues) but I guess that is they were going issue per issue -writing, drawing, coloring, formating and eventually printing it- there weren't many options to go back and fix something that didn't worked.

And yes... these were the '90s so... there isn't much to do about it.

In the end of the day, Sandman isn't Hob's story. Maybe there was a chance that if audiences liked him enough there could've been a limited run series of him through time and it didn't happened maybe there was a plan to do so but audiences preffered Death over him (can't blame them). Then the audience could've see him after his meeting with Morpheus and maybe growing a backbone eventually to stop his bussiness with the Slave Trade. We will never know.

Shipping and willingfully-ignorant fans

I'm not into shipping either (I'm not going to deny that in any fandom some edits or fanarts are cute) and in this particular case, even if I understand from where it comes from... I'm so done with it. Maybe if instead of casting the son they would've gone with the father things wouldn't have gone that far 🤣

Mischaracterization is a common phenomena in any fandom, sometimes it could be the main shtick to the plot of one pice of fanfic but when the bee-hive fandom accepts it as official headcanon there is no turning back and you just have to ignore it.

Had fandom had a more accurate-looking Hob they might've reacted differently. I haven't read the comics but I've seen a few panels... and he kind of grosses me out. There is no question there that he was on any easy-way to do money (thief, soldier, slave trader) with little to no remorse. But shippers only see what they want to see and leave any kind of nuance flies out the window.

There are (possibly) many fanfic writers that took Hob's dark past (in general) and did created well grounded stories where he gets to reflect on what he's done and how to atone for it. But fluff is fluff and it gets more views. And I think that's the root of it all... some people just want a cozy coffe-shop AU because they are only in there for the romance, others want to read something that will make them question either the character or themselves, analize how certain events played out or could happen. Pretty much as with movies you have the blockbusters, the historic dramas, the romance and an audience for each one of them.

It might feel like some of them are glossing over a very serious subject that should be treated with respect however there is a different place to tackle those subjects on... hopless romantic fanfics are not the right place.

However there is also those who go full "he did nothing wrong" and this could stem from both options: people who are racist themselves, or people that has no idea of what it being a part of the Slave Trade really means. Given that History is so far back, is easy to "forget" or even imagine the living conditions back then. Of course, those who have grandparents or greatgrandparents that have experienced it in the flesh will not let it fly.

In the end of the day it all depends on whoever is reading. They can be affected by it, shocked, outraged or not... that's how Art works and none of us has the right moral compass to tell others if they should be ashamed or not.

We can tell them to knock it off or at least tag properly, but thats an entirely different can of worms 🤣

Hob Gadling’s Involvement in the Transatlantic Slave Trade between the 16th and 19th Century

The Fallacy of (clumsily written) Racial Reconciliation or: Is show/Hob really different from comics!Hob

I originally wrote this a while back as a reply to someone else’s post, but since we’ve been discussing “Men of Good Fortune” (comics) and “The Sound of Her Wings” (Netflix) in our community over the past weeks, I’ve expanded on a few points of my original thoughts.

This post discusses difficult topics, systemic racism, questions of social (in)justice and problematic angles in writing. If that’s not your thing, this is the exit sign…

A question that comes up quite frequently is the following:

Is show!Hob different from comics!Hob?

Hob’s conversation with Dream in 1789 (and not just 1789) in the show has been significantly altered (compared to the comics), and it makes it tempting to believe this somehow makes him different regarding the more problematic side of his character.

In the comics, we have a bit of dialogue in 1789 that shows how deeply involved in the slave trade Hob was: “I sort of started it,” said with a hint of, dare I say, pride? And then brushing off Dream’s concerns by saying, “It’s a living.” Twice.

(They changed this to, “It’s just how it’s done”, and a shrug in the show.)

And it’s true: If this had been integrated into the show, it would have painted him in an even worse light. However, I personally think it was the wrong move to leave it out (Ferdinand Kingsley carefully voiced something along those lines as well btw). Because now the show pushed Hob’s whole involvement in the slave trade much more into the direction of, “Oopsie.”

Can we truly take leaving out the above dialogue as a hint that Hob might be a better person in the show? I’d like to really reflect on that--leaving out those comments can’t make him a better person. Even if we change his arc slightly and he “wasn’t that involved.” You’re involved, or you aren’t. There is no, “I tried a bit of slave trading and decided it wasn’t for me.” One could even argue it makes the angle of the show more problematic because it makes the slave trade a “little blip” in his timeline. Things like that can’t be a blip. I personally think the writers made a mistake here, but that’s obviously just my opinion.

If there wasn’t enough space in the show to expand on it (which I get for a side character), I feel they should have left out the slavery arc completely instead of keeping, but then minimising it (that might sound contradictory, but it only does if you don’t look at it too closely). It already didn't sit right with me 30 years ago to use slavery as a side note for showing a white person’s character development without properly examining the damage caused, and it still doesn't sit right with me now. It makes the plight of PoC a plot vehicle to centre white people’s guilt, and I always thought that’s a blind spot only white people have (and I’m white myself, to get that out of the road straightaway).

I’m not saying it couldn’t or shouldn’t have been used narratively. Or that you can’t show remorse and atonement/redemption for the most heinous acts (that’s not the same as forgiveness—I’ll get to that). Or that characters who have committed said acts are irredeemable. But it would have needed to be fleshed out instead of making it a comment in passing. Many books and movies do exactly that. But the point is that it’s never been fleshed out.

“But they had to shorten and streamline it…”—just no. Because to me (and ofc people are free to disagree), that exactly proves the point—centring the white guy while sidelining the people who suffer. I am a bit doubtful we’ll get anything remotely appropriate in the show after what we’ve already seen. Only time will tell, so I’m withholding final judgment at this point. Fact is: It is uncomfortable to watch for people with any sensitivity on the matter.

And yet, there is a lot of focus on leaving out Hob voicing his regret in 1889, since that (again) “would have painted him in a better light.”

While simultaneously regularly failing to mention that he proudly proclaimed he “invented” the triangle trade. Can we really pick and choose his traits like that? Hob is a materialistic opportunist who also has some regrets. That doesn’t mean he can’t exist as a character, or that we’re not allowed to like him (morally grey characters are often the most compelling ones). We don’t need to sanitise him though, or try to erase his problematic traits from canon. The same goes for other characters (yes, I’m looking at you, Dream, and I’m sure we’ll get to that very soon—in fact, we’re possibly starting tomorrow 🫣). If we are talking about Hob’s remorse, we are probably mostly thinking about Sunday Mourning, so I need to bring in issue #73 at this point (this is your spoiler warning if you don’t want to read ahead).

The Fallacy of Racial Reconciliation

Very plainly:

A black woman is used as a vehicle to forgive Hob. And said black woman has been written by a white male author for that sole purpose without giving her anything else to do. I personally think NG got that wrong. It was clumsy and insensitive to POC, and I really hope they change this for the show. It’s a fact that he really wasn’t good with writing black female characters in the whole run—they all get fridged in one way or another, and he even admits it in the Sandman Companion. And then turns around and basically implies that it's all okay now because “nothing bad” happens to Gwen once Morpheus is dead. She is allowed to be a vehicle for the character development of a white guy though. It’s just really insensitive, and I sincerely hope they don't put it in the show this way. And I’m glad that we're seeing hints it might not happen--at least the casting in the show hints at it (from Lucienne, Death and Rose to very likely turning Carla into a white man—we already met Carl, and that’s who he is IMHO).

There is also the not so small fact that Hob is, even in his guilt and shame (shame is always about yourself, and that’s actually very in keeping with his character), not honest with Gwen. The thing about him basically inventing the triangle trade, which he so proudly proclaimed in 1789?

The English who were so good at it? The “Jack” Hawkins he talked about in 1789? That’s actually this dude:

And Hob funded him 200 years before 1789, and enabled Hawkins. Hob was involved in what became the transatlantic slave trade well before 1789–he already funded it when he had money in the 1500s.

He carried that mindset around with him for literal hundreds of years and saw nothing wrong with it until at least (! more about that in a sec) 1789. Dream had to rub his nose in it, otherwise it wouldn’t even have occurred to him (or did it, and he just chose to ignore it--see below).

Hob has been written as a stand-in for humanity, British Imperialism and England over the centuries—with all that entails.

So how honest is he with Gwen? And how long, even after 1789, was he still involved, even after abolition in England (Somerset vs. Stewart declared slavery unlawful in England in 1772, but that wasn't true for the rest of the British Empire. Buying and selling slaves was only made illegal in 1807, while owning slaves only became unlawful with the Abolition Act of 1833, and it took another year to buy out slave owners to actually make it happen)? Because there’s still this:

“It got worse when they did [outlaw the slave trade]. You only needed one voyage in three to make a profit. You could afford to dump your cargo if… you spotted a British Man o’ War.” How does he know? Why does he have these nightmares? We can take a guess…

That’s not someone who tried it for a couple of weeks and then thought, “Sorry, my bad.” That’s someone who has been opportunistically involved from the 1500s and potentially until after slavery was unlawful in England, which it already was when he talked to Dream in 1789. So does his feigned ignorance of, "It's a living/It's how it's done?" really hold? Especially if he potentially kept going, even after that convo with Dream? When I wrote "between the 16th and 19th Century" in the header, that's exactly what I meant...

Guilt and Shame

Yes, what we see above and in all the other panels is guilt and shame. And it reminded me of this:

And I’d encourage everyone to really listen to what Jasper has to say, and sit with the feelings it brings up. Because I can still remember watching this in the George Floyd aftermath for the first time, and how deeply uncomfortable it made me—because he’s right.

Black people/PoC do not need to forgive and absolve white people from their guilt. They can if they wish to, but that’s their choice, not ours. It’s not for white people to absolve other white people from their guilt around the oppression of PoC. And that’s why it could be argued it’s not for white people to write a black character to do that in their stead either (they can of course, but then they need to live with the fact that people will call them tone-deaf). It could also be argued it is something that cannot be forgiven retrospectively, and white people need to be okay with that. It can only be worked on in the present with a view to the future. And as Jasper also so rightly points out:

The guilt is not even helpful (at least Gwen has the right sentiment there, but it’s still falls incredibly flat over all), and shame only centres ourselves.

Forgiveness vs Redemption

Hob Gadling's regrets don't make everything he did forgivable. I think it actually does the story a disservice if that’s our main takeaway, because this is truly one of the bits of The Sandman that’s written in an extremely tone-deaf manner. NG isn’t the first author who did this, but we can take something good and helpful from this, and that’s engaging with these questions instead of brushing them under the carpet—because that’s what literary analysis is about.

It should be clear that I do see Hob Gadling as narratively important because I see him as a stand-in for humanity, and more specifically, English history. And there is really so much to learn from that.

Writers can get things narratively right but still be emotionally tone-deaf due to their own blind-spots. We don’t need to assume malice, but we also don’t need to leave it entirely unchallenged.

And because of that, we can certainly see Hob as someone who has to live with his conscience, and the consequences of his actions, for the rest of his life and struggles with that (as he should). And maybe we can see him as someone who is now, finally, trying to do the work. Because that is what atonement and redemption actually mean:

Taking action to rectify past wrongs. Actively working against the harm once caused, and preventing it from ever happening again. And I hope that’s what he does, and the signs are there (but there are also still signs that he values covering up his immortality higher than e.g. telling Gwen the truth. And we can find a million excuses for why that is, but ultimately, none of them truly matter).

However, it is not the same as forgiveness from the people we have wronged. Forgiveness is not a prerequisite to redemption, although it can be a part of it if the person who has been wronged chooses to extend it. But the people Hob wronged are dead, while their descendants still need to live with the pain people like Hob caused to this very day. So while I don’t see him as irredeemable, I don’t think he needs to, or even can, be forgiven—especially not by black people (unless they choose to. But it is also fine if they don’t, and again, we need to be okay with that). And we could say, “But Gwen chose to.” To that, I say:

I wonder what Gwen would have said if he had been truly honest with her (which he wasn’t, see below panels). That wouldn’t have been an embrace is my guess…