#I'm not really that sad about it but it is.. annoying

[slowdrawl]

Whiskey and Want |dbf!Joel x f!reader| | 18+ MINORS DNI | {AU no outbreak, Sarah lives} {series masterlist}

Chapter 11: Out of the Blue | wordcount | 4.6k |

“No, I bet not. You just came here to give me that slow drawl and sad eyes, make it all better, huh? Feel guilty about sleepin’ with her too?” You smile, then bite off the end of the popsicle with a sharp crack. Licking your lips.

| a/n | we’re back and spiraling! poolside drama, unexpected guests, and tension so thick it could drown you. lmk if you’re still unwell about these two like I am, also. I edited this at 3 am so if its bad I'm sorry.

Warnings/tags: 18+ only, minors DNI, SMUT, jealousy, arguments, ANGST, Joel being a dick (again), surprise visits, possessive!Joel, manipulation, longing, power shifts, hints of blackmail, party planning, gaslighting. series warnings after the fic. reader uses she/her pronouns, has hair, and can walk. no major physical descriptions of the reader. no use of y/n but has the nickname Bird/Birdie. reader has a backstory.

You don’t even ask. Don’t give a shit. Because it was 90 degrees out by noon, and you’ve been sweating through your tank top all day. You don’t care that he’s barely texted back. Don’t care that he hasn’t stopped by in two days, not even to see your dad. You don’t care that there's been a silver 4Runner parked on the curb outside Joel’s house since last night, some mystery bitch car with out of state plates on it. The trucks not in the driveway when you slip through Joel’s side gate into the back yard. He’s probably out brooding somewhere, stewing in whatever the hell mood he rock-paper-scissored himself for today. Maybe at work, or out with whoever's SUV that is. The air tastes like metal and burnt grass. The concrete’s too hot for bare feet, but you suck it up, leaving your sandals by the lawn chair like this is your place to be. You let your sundress fall to the ground in a heap by your feet. Joel always said you could come by and swim whenever you wanted, “Don’t care if you use the pool, just don’t drown on me, kid,” he’d say. It was an open invitation, one that he never took back. So, today you decided you’d swim. You told yourself it wasn’t a statement. You just needed to cool off. You weren’t being petty or acting on impulse, you weren’t being annoying, or clingy, or childish. You weren’t trying to draw him out of hiding. This had nothing to do with how weird things had felt over the last two days. He wasn’t exactly cold. Not really distant, he still replied to most of your texts, but they were dry, canned responses. He was just…not the same as when your dad came back from Dallas on Tuesday. You slip into the shallow end of the pool. It’s lukewarm, like old bathwater. Better than nothing. You dunk your head in, swim angry laps like maybe it’ll shake something loose. Then you float. Ears underwater, drowning out the kids playing, sun in your eyes, breath shallow. You stay like that for a good while, long enough that your fingers start to prune. How the fuck did I get myself tangled in all of this? The moth pendant around your neck reflects in the sunlight, bouncing sharp white light across the already glinting water. 

How poetic. The sound hits you before anything else—the familiar crunch of gravel under tires. His truck. Of course, it was his truck. You’d probably know the sound of that engine if you were dead. You don’t flinch, don’t get out of the pool. You just stay there wading, slow and steady, unbothered, like you’re not about to get caught trespassing with your tits half out. A door slams. Then another. You hear voices. Plural. A woman’s laugh, loud and unfamiliar. Your stomach sinks. You walk to the edge of the pool, hair dripping on your shoulders, heart hammering behind your ribs. The patio door opens, you watch out of the corner of your eye as Joel steps out. He stops short when he sees you, his expression flattens, darkens. He looks…surprised? Tired. Not guilty, exactly. Just…. Concerned. “Hey,” he drawls. “Hi.” “You shouldn’t be here right now,” he says. His voice is quiet, but firm. You blink, shame, anxiety, anger—all of the above starts prickling at your skin. “What?” Now he looks like he’s been slapped, or caught, maybe both. “You should go.” He runs a hand through his hair, landing on the nape of his neck. He doesn’t even meet your eyes. “I’ll call you later today, okay?” Something on his face stops you from arguing. Stops you from asking the obvious. Stops you from exploding. You walk up the stairs of the pool, eyes forward to the chair where you left your stuff, you grab your towel, your dress. Your pride. The gate swings open in front of you, then latches shut. There’s no reason for you to look back toward the patio; you don’t want to see him. ////

Inside, it’s quiet. The air is charged, tension thick as old paint. You look to the kitchen, see her, arms crossed, keys dangling from one hand. Her mouth is tight, chin is high. She heard the whole thing. You shut the door behind you, and you don’t say anything for a while. You just stand there, hand still on the handle, bracing for some kinda’ impact. She wasn’t supposed to be here, you didn’t invite her, she didn’t ask. No mention of her coming to visit. Now here she is. Barefoot, in the kitchen, drinkin’ your fuckin sweet tea, leaning against the counter like she belongs. And you’ve been too big a coward to tell her to leave. Till now. She clears her throat,“You didn’t say you were expectin’ company,” she says, brow raised “I wasn’t.” “Cute kid…She a neighbour?” she asks, voice syrupy, layered with accusation. “That your friends’ girl? Ken or Kev or whatever?” You don’t answer. You just stare right out the window. “Oh,” she clicks her tongue. “So that's why you didn’t want to touch me last night.”

You shake your head, jaw clenched. “I didn’t know you were comin’. You can’t just show up like this.”

“Sure, I can. I did. Used to be I didn’t need a fucking invite.”

You don’t argue. Just shift your weight, eyes flicking toward the hallway like maybe distance will fix this.

You turn. “Tess…” She laughs, but it’s sharp. “What, Joel. Don’t give me that fuckin’ look. Not like I came here expectin’ a wedding ring. Just wanted a little fun…Jesus.” You pinch the bridge of your nose, voice rough. “You didn’t even call.” “Oh whatever, sorry. I missed you. I was in town. I figured—” “I figured this was over. You moved to Boston, Tess. I stayed. That’s not gonna change.” Her eyes narrow. “You’ve been off since the second I got here. What exactly changed, huh? Is it that kid who just walked out of your backyard, soakin’ wet?” You stay silent. Bite your tongue. “She doesn’t even look old enough to pay taxes.” You flinch. “Shit,” Tess huffs through her nose. “It is her.” She shakes her head in disbelief, laughing, “Didn’t think you had that in you, cradle robbing your best friend.” You think about arguing with her, think about sayin’ she’s twenty-five, that you didn’t mean this to happen. You don’t bother explaining. It’s not like saying that would make this whole mess any fucking better. You just look at her and say it, “You need to leave, Tess.” “Wow, you really have fucking lost the plot, haven’t you, Joel.” She picks up her bag. She walks toward the door and stands there, like she’s waiting for you to change your mind; her eyes are dark and mean. It makes your gut churn, “I’m sorry.” She turns back toward you, eyebrow up like she's waiting on a punchline. After a second she lets out a breathy, joyless laugh “I don’t need you to be sorry, Joel,” she says, flat, “I needed you to mean it. I needed you to pick a fucking direction, not just trail behind whaever made you feel less lonely like a damn shelter dog.” her face is red now, “I needed you to be real with me, human, communicate. But thats fucking impossible for you isn't it? You still can’t say what you want, can you? You open your mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. She keeps going, you let her. You deserve this. “You don’t get to say sorry just ‘cause you hate being the bad guy, Joel. You were the bad guy. Take accountability for once in your fucking life.” You whisper, practically to your feet, “I didn’t mean for this to happen.” She shakes her head slowly, like she’s done doing this dance. Her voice drops. Final, sharp.

“Whatever girl you’re dragging all that guilt around for? I hope she knows what it’s costing.”

Then she turns and slams the door behind her so hard the frame rattles. ///// You’re drying off your hair in the mirror when your phone buzzes on the porcelain beside you. (3:17 PM) Joel 🤠: Sorry, friend dropped by from out of state You stare at the screen, anger bubbles up in your chest. Then you type— (3:19 PM) You: U gonna tell me who that was? Should I go get tested? He doesn’t respond right away, so you double-text him. You: Idc if you’re fucking someone else but in case you forgot, you did fuck me raw the other day and im not exactly down to catch anything off some ghost of christmas past. Your fingers hovered over the button, but you sent it anyway. His name illuminates the screen immediately. You answer with gritted teeth. “If you’re about to tell me I better call Planned Parenthood to get antibiotics, so help me God, Joel Miller.” “Bird—” “No, fuck that. Don’t call me that right now, just tell me who that was.” There's a pause, then you hear him exhale. “It’s not what you think.” You mock him, condescending “it’s not what you think.” you scoff, “God, is there like, a fucking seminar that all men have to take to learn how to gaslight women into thinking they’re being dramatic when they catch you red handed?” “Jesus, kid. Just let me explain.” That ignites something in you, you’re furious now , crashing out. “I’m not a fucking kid, holy fuck! Get it through your skull already.” You almost hang up the phone, “Go ahead then, Mr. Miller, explain it away, entertain me.” “Are you done?” he says, calmly. “I think you owe it to me to say if the reason you’re always so distant and fucking cold is because you’re actually cheating on someone else with me.” you try to catch your breath, “I don’t even care if you’re fucking someone else but I’d like to atleast know. I feel fucking crazy and—” He cuts you off mid spiral, “No,” he says firmly, “You’re not crazy, you’re not wrong for askin’ questions. But nothing happened, I mean that.” “Right, so she just came over to hang out. Accidentally stayed the night?” You walk out of the bathroom and sit down on the edge of your bed. “She’s an old friend, she showed up from out east. I had no idea she was going to be in town.” “So you just let her play house?” Joel sighs deeply. You hear the creak of furniture beneath him, imagine him dragging a hand through his hair, jaw set tight. “She…Her and I— We had a thing. A while ago. It wasn’t serious.”

“Wasn’t serious,” you echo. “We have so much in common, I should get her number.” “No,” he says again. “It ended a long time ago. She moved to Boston. It’s been done.”

You press the heel of your hand to your eyes. You want to believe him.

“Why didn’t you just tell me then, if it wasn’t a big deal?”

“I didn’t think she’d show up again. She didn’t call. Just knocked on the door yesterday.”

“You let her in,” your voice cracks halfway through.

“I didn’t know what the fuck else to do. I was caught off guard.”

“Didn’t have to let her stay the night.”

“She didn’t stay the night,” he says quickly, too quickly.

You go still. Staring out your bedroom window toward his house, feeling a little bit numb now, you know that he’s lying.

“I mean—we got dinner. She wanted to talk. That’s all it was.”

“And now?”

“Gone,” Joel says. “I told her not to come back. Told her this thing. Whatever she thought she could show up and stir up…it’s done. It’s not something I want anymore.”

You say nothing.

When your name comes out of his mouth this time, it’s almost desperate, like he’s praying. “I know it looked bad. I know I should’ve called. But you gotta believe me, I didn’t lie to you because I was hiding something. I just… I didn’t know how to say any of it without making you think it meant something it didn’t.”

A bitter, shaky breath leaves your throat. “I didn’t want you comparing yourself to ghosts, Bird.”

Your eyes squeeze shut. His voice is doing that thing. The low, quiet, honest drawl that makes you want to crawl into his chest and forget all of it.

“I told your dad I’d come by tonight,” he adds, like it’s a footnote. “We gotta talk about party stuff. I’ll see you then, alright?”

“…Fine.”

“You okay?”

You don’t answer.

“Bird.”

“I’m fine,” you say, but you don’t even convince yourself.

He doesn’t push it. “I’ll see you soon.”

The line goes dead.

Your fingers hover on the screen for a second before you toss the phone onto your bed and lie back beside it.

If it was nothing, why do you feel so fucking stupid?

An hour passes, and your dad still isn’t home; he probably stopped at the store on his way from work. You’ve spent the last half hour pacing around the living room, hair still damp and full of chlorine, pulled into two sloppy braids. You’re wearing short overalls with a fresh tank top underneath. The days just keep getting hotter and the aircon is worse for wear than you are as each day goes by. You grab a popsicle and flop down on the couch, leaning your head back toward the ceiling, dreading the rest of the afternoon. Then, as if he waited for the second you allowed yourself to relax. Joel knocks at the door. You groan and lift yourself off the couch, your legs peel off the leather with a sticky pop. Even the couch seems too protest. You walk toward the door and flick the deadbolt, then turn toward the living room. Joel isn’t a vampire, you don’t have to invite him in. He opens the door slowly, looks in with a raised eyebrow, then two when his eyes pan and widen at you standing in the foyer. You hold back a smirk, knowing. Your outfit is giving salacious. A cowboy’s wet dream. Perfect southern Americana, hot farm girl next door. You walk back toward the couch, swaying your hips just right. You feel his eyes burning into the back of your thighs. You sit—not proper, not modest. Draping your legs over one another, kicking your feet onto the coffee table, popsicle still in hand.You lean heavy back into the leather, letting the heat of the room melt everything but your pride, chin tilted back, tank top riding up your ribs. The posture of someone unbothered, someone who knows exactly what she’s doing. The door shuts behind him, soft, like he doesn’t want to disturb the house. You bring the popsicle up to your mouth and run your tongue along it, slowly. Like you’re trying to make it blush. You swirl it around once, letting the juice run down your hand; it's obscene, pornographic, ridiculous. You catch the dripping liquid with the flat of your tongue again, humming low in your throat like its the best thing you’ve tasted all week. You tilt your head at him, doe-eyed, lazy. “You gonna come in, cowboy?” Joel kicks off his boots, nearly tripping over them, his eyes are locked on your mouth. He’s staring like it’s the only thing he can see, his own lips pressed together in a line. Then, slack—just a little. Like he’s not even trying to hide it anymore. “You here for party stuff?” you ask, voice heavy with saccharine cruelty. “Or are you just here to lie to my face?” “Bird—” You wave your hand in the air. “Nah, go on. Mr. Miller, lie some more. I’ll pretend to believe you this time.” “I didn’t lie,” he says, jaw ticking. You hum around the popsicle, rolling your eyes like he’s already boring you. “You said she didn’t stay the night, Joel. You forget I got a front row seat to your house from my bedroom window, baby?” You lift your feet from the table and motion for him to come sit down, “You said that you didn’t do anythin’. That's not a lie, though, right? Just an omission, maybe? Real classy.” Joel looks around the room, shifting his weight, eyes flicking like he’s looking for somewhere to set down his own guilt.” “I didn’t come here to fight.” “No, I bet not. You just came here to give me that slow drawl and sad eyes, make it all better, huh? Feel guilty about sleepin’ with her too?” You smile, then bite off the end of the popsicle with a sharp crack. Licking your lips.

His face tightens. “I didn’t touch her.” he walks halfway through the living room, “She showed up outta’ nowhere. I didn’t know she was comin’, and I sure as hell didn’t ask her to stay.” “But you let her.” Silence. “She call you cowboy too, or is that just my thing?” The tick is back in his jaw, and that’s answer enough. You sit up slowly, popsicle stick still between your fingers like a cigarette, you twirl it around. “I didn’t mean—” “Don’t care what you meant,” you snap, suddenly. “You let it happen, kinda fucked up don’t you think?” As you stand, you toss the stick in the empty yogurt container sitting on the table, and walk toward him. He doesn’t move. Doesn’t raise his voice. Just looks at you like he’s bleeding inside and doesn’t know how to say it. “I didn’t handle it right,” he says quietly. “No shit.” “You just disappear for two days, show up like nothin’ happened, and expect me to play nice? Be pliant, sweet about it?” Another silence. Longer this time. He takes a breath, like he’s going to explain. But then—

He doesn’t.

You step toward him. Slow. Just one step. Enough to force him to hold your gaze. “You can’t even say it, can you?” you whisper. “Can’t even admit it.” He opens his mouth. Closes it. You shake your head, biting back something ugly.

You turn to walk away again.

His voice is so quiet, like a little kid whispering

“I’m here, aren’t I?”

You stop. Look back over your shoulder.

“Bare minimum, Joel. That’s all this is. You showed up. You always show up. Doesn’t mean you give a shit.”

“I do.”

“Then say something that proves it.”

He walks forward a step. Not enough to crowd you, he knows better. But enough to feel it.

“I should’ve called,” he says. “I should’ve told you what was goin’ on. But I didn’t know how.”

You narrow your eyes. “You still don’t.”

He nods once. “You’re right.”

And that’s it. No excuses. No pleading. No lies.

Just that. You stare at him for a long time.

And then just because you can. You reach for him, tracing your fingers over the front of his flannel, tugging at the collar to adjust it. He holds his breath. “We gonna go over decorations or you wanna keep diggin’ your own grave?”

Joel exhales. A laugh that doesn’t reach his eyes.

“You pick. I already fucked everything else up.”

You grab a notebook off the counter, toss it toward him. It lands at his feet.

“Great. Then start with streamers.”

He crouches, picks it up, and when he stands, he looks at you.

Really looks at you. And you hold his gaze, chin high, eyes dark, until he looks away first.

Good.

You’re not done being angry. Not even close. But for now? You’ve got him back in the palm of your hand. The two of you sit at the dining table in stiff silence, Joel’s scrawling a party supply list. The paper is already smudged in a few places. He brought a pen, which somehow pisses you off more. Like he came here trying to be prepared. “Okay, if I keep it down to only her closest friends, we’re at…” You drag your pencil down in a line on your own notebook, counting the names. “Twenty-five people?” Joel looks over, squinting, snatching the book from you. “Who’s Mel?” “Oh, she’s the one who asked if you were single, remember?” He hums, “Why are we inviting her to this thing?” he asks. “I actually put her on the list to distract Tommy, figured maybe I could set them two up together.” “Why would you do that?” “I don’t know, Joel. Why wouldn’t I? Don’t you think it might be a good idea to get him to stop obsessing over me, maybe stop him from showing my dad that picture of you.” Joel cringes, but he shakes his head, “Yeah might be a good idea actually. You hear from him?” “Nope, not since he got all Dahmer on me over text. You seen him?” “Yeah, talked to him about it on Wednesday after work.” “Oh? How come you didn’t say anything?” You raise your brow at him, confused. “Didn’t seem worth sayin’. I  handled it.” “Handled it how?” Your arms fold over your chest, he’s being too vague about this. Tommy was dead set on ruining both of your lives the other day. Now Joel looks real confident about him not ratting anyone out. “Told him I’d fuckin fire him if he opened his mouth. Said I’d make him pay me back all the bail money he owes me too.” You actually have to pick your jaw up and close it. “You did not.” “Sure did darlin’, made him delete that damn picture too.” Why is this making me feel feral??????? You actually snort “You guys are like that spiderman meme.” You point at him, he looks confused as hell. “What?” “Oh my god, never mind, forgot you were a dinosaur.” “You’re a fuckin’ brat, know that?” he says it under his breath, smirking. You shoot him a sharp look.“Sorry, didn’t catch that.” He keeps his eyes down on the notebook, scribbles something down, “Nothin…just said you’re a brat.” You roll your eyes, crossing your arms. “Wow. Hurtful.” He finally meets your eyes. “It’s true, though, darlin’.” You lean forward across the table, elbows on the wood, chin in your hands. “And yet…you still need me to boss you around.” His mouth opens. Shuts again. You can see the war with himself behind his eyes. You smile, pretty, sharp. “I think you like that, Mr. Miller.” You watch his Adam's apple bob in his throat as he swallows hard. He’s too easy sometimes. How am I supposed to stay mad at him?You pluck the pen from his hand, set it down gently on the table between you. “Say it.” He shakes his head, lets out a breathy half-laugh. “You’re outta your damn mind.” You watch intently as he squirms in his seat, adjusting himself. Your eyes flick down to his lap. Then back up. “Thought so.” He narrows his gaze, but he still doesn’t move. You reach a hand across the table again, just barely brushing your fingertips over the back of his hand. Light. Testing. He flinches like it burned him. “Write balloons,” you wink at him. “Neat”

He doesn’t reach for the pen. Just stares back at you. So you pick it up yourself, lean right over, not subtle, not proper. You set the pen in his hand, wrapping his fingers around it. “You wanna act like you’re still in charge?” Your voice is a whisper, honey-slick and dangerous. “Prove it. Don’t write it.”

He holds your gaze. Breath shallow. Then drops his eyes to the page. He writes it down in pretty, boyish cursive. You lean back, grinning ear to ear. “Good boy.” He goes so red in the face it looks like he might knock the fuckin’ table over. Or kiss you. Maybe both. And just then, like the universe decided you were having too much fun, the front door rattles. Dad’s voice calls out from behind it, “Hey, I’m home!” Joel jolts backward in his chair like he’s been electrocuted. You smirk, kicking his foot under the table. “Better behave, cowboy.” He doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t blink. Just moves in close, eyes fixed on your mouth.

“Keep runnin’ that mouth, baby,” he says, voice a dangerous growl. “Gonna end up with it full.”

You glance back down at his lap. You can see his cock straining against his zipper. “Big talk for a guy who’s that hard from being made to write lines.” His nostrils flare as he lets out a shaky exhale. One hand clenches under the table. “Bet you loved detention.” 

He shakes his head and grabs the notebook like it’s the only thing keeping him from losing it. Flips it open, and scrawls streamers so hard the pen nearly rips the page.

Just as your dad walks in, keys jangling. “How’s the list coming?”

You don’t look away. Don’t break the tension.

You just smile. Innocent “Joel’s takin’ care of the heavy lifting.”

He nods at the half-finished chicken scratch list on the table. “Looks like you’ve made progress at least, maybe.” he squints at it, “You got girly handwriting, man.” You almost fucking choke on your own saliva when he says it. Joel just grips the pen like it might combust. “Tell you what,” your dad continues, totally unaware. “I’m useless with this kinda shit, how about you take Birdie with you. ’ll tackle Costco.” he looks over to Joel, “You mind? She’s got better taste anyway.” You blink. “What?” Joel’s head tilts toward you, savouring this moment as your dad walks to the kitchen. “Party City run,” Kev explains, opening the fridge. “I was gonna go, but you know I’ll end up buying some half-deflated balloons and  Fourth of July napkins. Better off lettin’ her take the reins.”

You look at Joel. He’s biting back a smile, the kind that tugs crooked at the corner of his mouth. The one that knows exactly what he’s doing. That fucking dimple makes an appearance.

“Sure,” Joel says. “I’d be more than happy to take her.”

Your dad’s already moved on, mumbling about being out of sandwich meat. You stare at Joel across the table, cheeks hot. He rips the list from the notebook rings and folds it in half, real neat. Tucks the pen behind his ear.

Dad's voice calls out from the kitchen, “You stayin’ for dinner?” 

Joel stands, smooth as ever, grabbing his keys off the table. “Can’t tonight. Gotta call Sarah anyway. She’s makin’ me go over everything, doesn’t trust me to not fuck it up”

Your dad just snorts from the other room. “Smart kid.”

He passes behind your chair on his way to the door—but then his hand slips into your hair. No warning. No softness. Just a slow, deliberate grip at the base of your neck. Fingers wound tight.

You gasp. Quiet, instinctive.

He moves down. Breath warm against your ear.

“Shh,” he coos. “Good girl.”

Your pulse is a war drum.

He lets go. Straightens. And then, with a cheerful drawl, “Tomorrow’s gonna be real fun! Be here for eleven.”

He opens the door, throws one last wink over his shoulder.

“Night, Kev.”

You feel it all the way down your spine.

The door shuts behind him with a soft click.

Your phone buzzes in your lap not a minute later.

(5:42 PM) Joel 🤠: I'm going to ruin you.

You stare at the screen, heart in your throat.

(5:43 PM) You: Looking forward to seeing you try.

series warnings!!! fluff, smut, angst, unprotected p-in-v, f/m masturbation, fingering, age-gap (legal), size kink?, choking, obsessive!Joel, mean!Tommy, cumplay, possessive sex, praise, risky sex, infidelity/implied, semi-public sex, dirty talk, guilt, betrayal, blackmail, grief themes, Joel is down bad, Tommy sucks

taglist: @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @brittmb115 @mystickittytaco @your-nightmaredoll @leenieweenie12 @orodaeh @jokesonthem

[sage-nebula]

For those who favor the "Friede is perfectly fine, he's just laying low to work behind the scenes" theory, I ask you to please do the following:

Think of someone you love.

I don't mean someone you just like a lot, or someone you are fond of. Think of someone you love. Someone you feel safe around, no matter the circumstances. Someone whose mere presence brings you joy. Someone who, even when they exasperate or annoy you, that annoyance is still tinged by fondness because yes, they are being annoying, but they're also being them, and you love them. Someone who has changed your life for the better, someone who makes your life brighter, better, simply by being in proximity to you. Someone who makes you happy, makes you warm, makes you safe, makes you feel that life is worth living because no matter how hard things get, at least they're there, being them. Someone you really, truly love.

Are you thinking of that person? Good. Now imagine that they've died.

Imagine getting the news that an accident took place, and that they are now dead. They're gone, forever, and you didn't even get to say goodbye. In a worst case scenario, you saw this happen, and were powerless to do anything to stop it. This person that you love with your whole entire heart, who made the world brighter for you, has been ripped away from you, violently and without warning. You will never see them again. You will never speak to them again. There is nothing you are capable of doing which will bring that person back into your life. You have to instead go on without their warmth, their laughter, their love.

As you sit with that, as you grapple with that pain, ask yourself: How would you feel if, after a year of dealing with that unyielding avalanche of grief, you learned that not only were they alive, but they could have contacted you at any time and yet deliberately chose not to?

I'm not sure if this thought exercise I have proposed is enough to get across the all-consuming agony that grief over a loved one causes. It has been ten years since my platonic soulmate died in my arms, and that still remains the worst night of my life. I still cry when I think about her. And she is not the only one I've lost; I lost a dear friend to suicide eight years ago, and that grief, too, still aches inside me, the "what if I had done [x]" sometimes skittering around my brain even though I know there's nothing I could have realistically done to prevent it. Grief is not just sadness; grief is life-altering, brain chemistry-changing misery. Grief is a form of trauma, and doubly-so if you were there to witness the event as Orio, Liko, Roy, Dot, and Cap were.

So we have to ask ourselves: What would it do to the crew of the Brave Asagi if they learned that the grief they felt for over a year was for nothing? That they grieved their dear friend, whom some of them thought they saw die right in front of them, for no reason? That Friede was alive all along, and he just chose not to tell them? He chose to let them grieve him. He chose to let them endure that misery? What would it do to them to learn that this person that they loved with all their hearts chose to let them suffer?

And what would it do to Friede's character, to say that he is the type of person who would do that?

Because there is no reason good enough to justify it.

"He was laying low because the RVTs are seen as Public Enemy #1" -- they are being seen that way regardless of whether he is alive or dead. The only difference is, now they are being seen that way without him by their side, and with the grief of believing that he is lost to them forever.

"There are things that he can only do on his own" -- This is an entire series predicated on partnership and friendship. It is not believable at all that there are things that he would only be able to do without the rest of the crew, at least to the level of "it's better that they endure the grief of my death than to let them in on the fact that I am alive and OK."

"He is getting help from Amethio" -- While it would be believable that he would ask Amethio to join the RVTs, and it is not believable that he would enlist Amethio's help and not also pull the RVTs into it -- or again, at least inform them that he is alive and OK.

"Well then why can Amethio be laying low" -- Because Amethio is a character who has been established to want to go solo in the name of protecting others previously (see: when he tried to fire Zir and Conia). Friede is the opposite. Friede brought the RVTs together in the first place and has been established to be a person who cares deeply about the feelings of others.

I agree that jokes about Friede appearing and saying, "Did I forget to mention I'm alive?" are funny. But they are funny as jokes, as shitposts. For that to happen in canon . . . in my opinion, it would be unforgivable. If I was made to feel grief over someone I loved, only to find out a year or so later that they were alive all along and just didn't tell me, I would not be able to forgive them for putting me through that. It's tantamount to stabbing someone in the heart and saying, "My bad!" afterward. It's callous behavior. It's a heartless action.

The only way they could pull off Friede being peachy keen this entire time is if he actually had notified everyone off-screen and we just weren't told . . . but even then, he presumably still wouldn't have notified the kids or Cap (or else Liko wouldn't have painful flashbacks to his "death", Cap wouldn't be with Roy), and it'd be a very hard sell to believe that the adults would leave the crew disbanded without him.

Since Friede has not contacted the RVTs for over a year, it has to be because he can't -- because he physically or mentally cannot do it. Otherwise, at least in my opinion, he'll be doing something unforgivable that truly assassinates his character, and it will honestly ruin the show for me.

[sebaztianlovesgeek]

This is what I'm always saying bout Alois, I'm glad to see people are more understanding of his character now but he was really really hated when season 2 first came out, and don't get me wrong there is plenty of things to hate bout season 2, but these people despised this kid when in my opinion he's actually the best character to come out of the none canon anime shite and sometimes I'm quite sad he is only in the anime and not the manga/canon stuff

Its kinda silly how even the anime acknowledges again and again how Ciel and Alois are 2 sides of the same coin yet people still loved Ciel and hated Alois. Like OP said its probably to do how Alois isn't really the "perfect" survivor like Ciel was perceived to be (I personally don't think Ciel was a "perfect" survivor either there is no such thing, but it wasn't really until the circus arc where we saw him do anything that could be considered morally questionable and of course season 2 was made before the anime adaptation of that arc so I imagine thats why people liked him more than Alois)

I remember being like 12 watching season 2 for the first and preparing myself to deal with the most annoying evil character ever because of the way people talked about Alois like he was the devil, only to finish the season and be like "Hey that kid wasn't actually that bad, dare I say likeable". I get that Alois's trauma doesn't excuse him from doing bad things, but Sebastian for example didn't have any tragic backstory and he still did bad things (way worse than Alois) and most of the fans still liked him

I also think it might have to do with the fact that a lot of black butler fans back then were young tweens and teens and probably didn't understand the affects that trauma from a young age could have on a childs developing brain, and how people who have gone through traumatic events in their life deal with the pain differently and sometimes they deal with it by being "bratty" and "evil" (in their eyes at least) like Alois, like OP said it seems mostly to be due to Alois not being a "perfect" victim

Also I apologise for my yapping, I have a lot to say bout Alois he's one of my favourite characters and my favourite non-canon/anime only character

Alois hate is so forced imo. I will never understand why people love Ciel but hate him when they are THE SAME just different flavors. Alois is a traumatized boy who learned everything from his environment. In my opinion it’s because people cannot handle traumatized people who are not “perfect” and good people, they hate traumatized people who are not perfect survivors

[heeseungsbm]

guys i got broken up with today & it's making my angst so much better literally bawling as i write because yn is quite literally me😭i actually hate boys, i wasted sm time fabricating the thought of our potential

but it pushed me to write so i hope i can share this story with you guys soon, word count about to be 100K FR bc whew😭😭😭

but if i disappear again it's literally bc i killed myzelf

[king-lena]

watermour + text post meme (part 33) // inspiration credit to @watermourdivorce and their top tier watermour coded reblogs

[kvetchinglyneurotic]

it occurs to me that jamie's conversation with ted at the pub in 2x02 might be the first time he talks about his dad with someone who already knows that james is abusive (with the possible exception of georgie). which means that the first time he hears an outside perspective on the situation, it's ted telling him that his dad's abuse is what made him great

[frenzyfeline]

oh god, the Amphibia brainrot is coming back, HELP-

But omg, I just found out today that there was a sneak peek of the new graphic novel and OMG, DIPLOCAULUS PEOPLE, LET'S GOOO idk why i didn't think that there was gonna be another race of amphibians based on them, cuz like DUH, Andrias' mech suit is based on them, so why wouldn't they have existed? The real question is...are they still alive at this point? Are we gonna get new characters from this new continent? I sure hope so, bc from the snippet we got of them they look cool.

[baphometsss]

if i see one more post about how solas/mythal/elgar'nan had a weird love triangle thing going on i'm gonna scream

[capn-twitchery]

sorry i've been quiet my body has been spending these months grace larping (depression bad, anxiety bad, i am cold, joints hurt, -100 social buff that makes talking to people feel impossible, yearning for some weird pirate whimsy to come back & bring me a little joy)

[dootznbootz]

allow yourself to be a little arrogant! if you were to claim that you know more than most people about a specific character from greek mythology, which character would it be?

*puts on the hat of arrogance so I can take it off right afterward*

Penelope 😅 😂

Like most of what we find of her is in the Odyssey, and even then, in my opinion, Homer I almost feel purposefully makes her a bit of an enigma. As we're in Odysseus' "POV" most of the time, and it's kind of a "She tricks the trickster, she tricks the narrator, she tricks the suitors, she tricks the reader, etc."

But even with this lil bit of "sneakiness" with her, we still get so many hints of her character and who she is and I adore it 🥹

Even then she has a lot of background lore that is just SOOOO much fun to play with. Her being of Naiad descent (whether 50-75% depending on what myths you go with), her many brothers and one sister, Her dad being a racer, her being cousins with Helen, Castor, Pollux, Clytemnestra Sparta itself, And that's just background lore!!!! There's so much to play with and that makes it so fun!

And well, like, I KNOW I'm the reason for a big boom of "Water Wife" lol 😅 Were there "Naiad Penelopes" before I came back on Tumblr? YES! :D Absolutely! I'm definitely NOT the first "Naiad Penelope" person!

But I DID create "Water Wife" AND I know I help cause more Water Pennys to be in the world >:3 Even if folks weren't directly inspired by me, they probably got it from someone else who was! :3 and I know my headcanons are often being used by others.

*The hat of arrogance droops a lil on my head so it becomes a lil bit of the sad arrogance hat*

I sometimes don't really like that I'm like, "the biggest, loudest Penelope fan", you know? ;~;

I know I'm not the only Penelope fan <3 I know there are others. Many lovely fans and creators :3 This isn't to negate them and the love and works. <3

But in fandom in general, In some ways, I...I'm a lil sad that like, a lot of the info that some people have on her in the fandom I know is because of me 😓 Like...Why did it take someone else to be a nerd about her for others to be a nerd about her, you know?

Like, it makes me happy that people are finally giving her love and seeing a lot more fics and headcanons with her as a focal point but like, I'm sad feeling like I started it in fandom (again, Penelope HAS been praised throughout the ages after all) recently. Why did it take ME to get others so nuts about her? Why do I see most folks caring about her simply because Odysseus and Telemachus do?

It's like, there are many Odysseus bloggers, there are a few Telemachus bloggers (Hi! :D ), but there are few, (if really many others) blogs that are like "most stuff I do is Penelope, Odysseus and others are there sometimes but It's mostly Penelope in here".

(granted I have not really...looked too much recently as it started making me sad to think about her not getting a lot of love) I am also very picky. I won't stand for cardboard Penelope who is only there to prop up her husband and/or thinks he "cheated" or have Odysseus cheat. Penelope, and women in general, are not props for their husbands/sons.)

As like, I got most of my info FROM the Odyssey AND just simply looking stuff up about her and Sparta and her family. And so I get this lil feeling of "...We both read the same book, why did it take me pointing out that Penelope is constantly wishing violence on the suitors for people to know that she does that? Why did you think that Penelope didn't come up with the archery contest when it explicitly says she did?"

And it's not like, even a feeling of "gatekeeping" or wanting to be like "You're a Penelope fan, huh? Well then tell me the names of all her possible brothers? >:(" It's more like a

Me: "I love Penelope!" Person:"YEs! I love Penelope too!" Me: "Yippee! Can you tell me about your Penelope? :D I love all Penelopes! I wanna talk about her!" Person: "Well, she's more quiet and reserved but that's her secret >:3 she strikes when you least expect it!" Me: "YES!!! That's so fun! I have her 'Likeminded' with Odysseus and she's silly, reckless, hotheaded just like he is :D Can you tell me some headcanons about her? What do you have for her childhood? I'm really excited!" Person: "Oh I don't have much for her childhood actually." Me: "That's okay! Do you wanna brainstorm together? Maybe bounce some ideas so you can get some down?" Person: "Oh no, that's okay. I've got all I need,as I really only have her when she meets Odysseus." Me: "o-oh okay.:'D "

As like...I dunno. When you love a character, you wanna meet others who also will ramble nonstop about them too, you know?

I sometimes feel like, idk, some folks are like "Think up Penelope headcanons for us! :D " especially as like... I've had that whole "Oh no, I've got all I need!" experience more than once :')

Ngl, like, part of the reason I go so "apeshit" about her is yeah, because I am, but also like, in hope more people will join me? Which yeah! People have! And that makes me happy!

But even then, I just... I DO like this joke, don't get me wrong, but with how whenever I fangirl about her, people are like, "Found Odysseus" and yippee! :D I think it's fun to be called Odysseus!

But also like...Why does it still tie back to him? Why is it still about Odysseus? (even my own tag of "Shot by Odysseus" is still technically about him! (I'm keeping it because I'm stupid but still)) Why aren't Odysseus fans called "Penelope" then? She loves him just as much, right?

I think there's more "OdyPen fans" than there are Penelope fans. Because most Penelope stuff HAS to do with Odysseus, and it's usually like, STILL centered around him. Which is really weird to me, as I don't know how you can be a big Odysseus fan without being an equally big Penelope fan. They are way way too intertwined to not be equally talked/headcanoned/etc. about in my opinion. They're like the same person imo in a way lol.

In my opinion, you cannot bring up Odysseus without mentioning Penelope, you cannot bring up Penelope without mentioning Odysseus.

It's literally like that in the Odyssey. (Explain that part of Homer's passage here.)

...So why are there so many fics with Odysseus doing so much without Penelope, and yet, very few Penelope fics that don't have much of anything to do with Odysseus?

*takes off hat of arrogance*

And like...I'm a goober just like every other fan, you know? I'm not some "mastermind". All my "good" headcanons are simply loving her and thinking about her often. It's...not hard to love a character. I just rotate her around a lot. :3

[hyacinth42-blog]

“You know, if you break up with Sveta, meet a gorgeous girl and break Sveta’s heart again, I’m obligated to throw you into the center of the Atlantic Ocean.”

....What does this mean Vicky? He's not allowed to date anyone pretty ever again???

[stabbyfoxandrew]

found some twinyards angst in my wip folder...

[elizabeth-mitchells]

idk guys i'm feeling pretty discouraged about writing fic lately :/

[permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88]

So, how does one maintain their joy of talking about fanfic plots/OCs with others, without going overboard, becoming unhinged, and unleashing a constant stream of consciousness about said plots/OCs that seemingly never has an end in sight, thus overwhelming the recipient of these discussions, even if they're too kind to state that they're overwhelmed outright?

Alternatively, how does one stop internalizing that they are, and always have been 'too much', 'annoying', and 'over the top', and actively silencing themselves/making themselves smaller, based on perceived moments where the recipient of the above conversations isn't responding as excitedly as they usually do, and thus must be tired of/annoyed by one's constant rambles?

Asking for a friend (it's me, I'm friend).

[torchickentacos]

do you have any pokeani fic recs for the classic vibe (read: the content is unhinged and wild)

Referencing this post- long reply but I give a few pointers in these fics' direction at the end!

I'm gonna be so honest anon, I'm not sure I want to actively rec some of them 😭 A lot of them are very of-their-time (usually 2007-2013) and, while HILARIOUS, often contain things that I really don't want to 'recommend' (homophobia, sexism, a lot of slutshaming, some REALLY out of pocket stuff that is not properly warned for, etc). OBVIOUSLY I am not reccing the yikes of things so much as the rest of it (the hilarious unhinged side), but the current fandomscape leans bad-faith and assumey and I'm just not keen to fuck around and find out tbh. Ye olde fic reccing takes a level of understanding of other time periods and attitudes and customs in fandom and on FFN that I'm... not sure that all of tumblr is always very good at tbh lol. If you guys really want me to and if we can all understand that it was a different time and that enjoyment of batshit insane fics does not equal agreement with everything said or depicted in them, then come back and I'll consider it again. But for now, I'm MORE than happy to tell you guys the best ways to find them on your own lmao. It's not hard once you get it down, and anything I'd rec, I've found through this method.

First off, FFN's search system is just frustrating imo. Between a less-than-intuitive UI and people not bothering to tag characters and ships and genres properly, using it the same way you'd filter stuff on Ao3 is a fool's errand (unless you're doing it by word count/completed/etc, which is objective and automatically tallied I think). You're better off using key words. I usually ignore the filters. The only thing I filter by is fandom at the start page (all of Pokemon is under 'games' in FFN and I don't bother narrowing it down to animeverse personally due to aforementioned mistagging or an entire lack thereof).

So, what key words do I use? When looking for that specific brand of insane campy 2000s kitschy wild unhinged stuff, I usually default to searches like "PS CS IS" (poke contest ikari, there's a lotta stuff in there, sometimes there's ORS/LGS/OS/ES/AS etc and you won't always know the acronym and it's just a surprise tbh) or trope related searches like "Assassin" or "High school" or "Vampire" other words you might find in a summary. You can also search by character names (in the search bar and not in the actual filters, which are not reliable in my experience). I'd say to go for tropes and AUs as far as keywords go. I'd ALSO say to not filter by completed, because that'll filter out a lot of two-week-passion-projects that someone dropped as soon as it got flamed, and there's some fun ones in there.

That's about it, but if you find one good fic then it's worth checking the rest of what the writer has. A lot of them have a bunch of unfinished fics and there's some hidden gems. Have a good time reading, and the search is half the fun! Come back with any funny lines you find if you want :)

[34saveme34]

exchange of all time honestly

yeah I uh. got a different TTS because the google doc extension hates me!!!!