#LET ME LIVE MY LIFE GODDAMNIT
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redrocketpanda · 1 year ago
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"I'm gonna write the hell out of this BokuAka scene," I mumble to myself as I stumble between sleep and wakefulness. The characters feel so alive, the sentences are flowing, everything is bright and beautiful.
I wake up, have breakfast, sit down at my laptop ready to write the hell out of this BokuAka scene.
The characters drop to the floor like lifeless puppets; their faces blank, their limbs in disarray, their voices silenced.
The passageway that the sentences must travel through to get from my brain to my fingertips become increasingly tighter, restricting the words movements until they're positively suffocated. Dead in the tunnels.
And everything that was once so bright and beautiful, which made my heart soar, turns to stone.
I'm left amidst a pile of rubble, turning each stone sadly in my hands, trying to coax their cold, rigid little shapes back into the vibrant, flourishing flowers that they had been not too long ago.
The memory of what they had once been haunts me.
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flawseer · 3 months ago
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"#21 - Ancient", follow-up
I'm not going to be able to finish Smaugust #23 today, so that will have to wait until tomorrow. Apologies.
Instead, for a change of pace, let's talk about something different. I've seen a few reactions to my submission for day 21 that wondered what on earth must have possessed Secretkeeper to romantically pursue Morrowseer, and what that must have been like. Did they love each other? Was there any tenderness or affection between them? I figured I should give you my take on them.
I believe that Morrowseer--somewhere deep within his black, twisted lump of a heart--did indeed have feelings for Secretkeeper. You can kind of see this in the Prisoners short where he very unfavorably compares Farsight to Secretkeeper and sings the praises of the latter. He holds her in high esteem and seems to value her intelligence. He probably really wanted to have a meaningful relationship with her.
Unfortunately, he is wracked with the burden of having to be Morrowseer; a bitter, deeply unpleasant, emotionally shallow old dragon incapable of the humility required to be compassionate. For all the prestige and clout that Morrowseer has as an elite member of the Queen's court, his social life seems very empty and sad. He has no friends, only co-workers (who don't like him) and underlings (who butter him up), and I think he feels incomplete because of that. To fill this void, he fixates on asserting his importance and is desperate to maintain his status. He deeply desired to be the father of the prophecy Nightwing--which would have cemented him as the one dragon who saved his tribe--and the fact that he failed to sire a child in time not once (necessitating Starflight), but twice (necessitating Fatespeaker) eats him up on the inside. He perceives this as a huge failure, and Mastermind (who succeeded where he failed) picked up on this and mocks him for it. His entire conversation with Farsight reeks of "I am mad and jealous that your kid is special! It should have been mine!! Goddamnit why wasn't it mine!??"
For Secretkeeper's side... no, I don't think there's any deep affection there. I don't think she anticipated this relationship happening in the first place. But she did want to have a child, and when Morrowseer approached her, she weighed her options. If one can stomach living with someone like Morrowseer--who always has to be the most important person in the room--it's not an entirely bad deal. You get a lot of social clout as the Queen's right hand's mate, and since Morrowseer is exempt from the strict food rationing policy, you also get to eat. And he actively wants to have children to secure his legacy, which, if that's what you want as well, is pretty good. So in my mind she probably just went "Yeah, I can probably make this work. I'm sure he's not as bad to be around when he likes you." and agreed out of convenience.
But I doubt she loved him. There isn't really a reality where I can reconcile "She loved him" and "She kept their shared child a secret from him because she did not trust him". The only thing Secretkeeper genuinely loved about Morrowseer was that she was able to have Moonwatcher. So she stuck it out for her daughter, and I don't think she was upset for very long when Morrowseer died. She might have even felt a sense of relief that she didn't have to keep lying anymore.
I've seen people point to the fact that Secretkeeper felt a desire to tell Moonwatcher who her father was, and then posit that this means she did have feelings for him. I'm not sure I really agree. All that tells me is that she has feelings for Moonwatcher and wants her to know the truth. But if the truth is "I didn't really love your father, he was an awful and unpleasant person and I was just with him so I could have you", it becomes understandable why she would choose not to tell her.
That's my read of the situation anyway. Yours might be entirely different!
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cashmoneyyysstuff · 8 months ago
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bakugo and reader meeting again after a long time like maybe katsu has been away on a mission and he just misses us so much 🥹
anon this is literally such an adorable request!! This has been sitting in my drafts for the longest time cus i could never rlly figure out what i wanted to do with this, but as soon as i got the inspo i got to it !! im so so sososuuupperr sorry for making you wait so long and if you’re still sticking around, I LUB YOU !! anyways, i tried honoring this lovely sweet request as best i could, if you’re reading, i truly hope you enjoy (and all of you ofc!!) <33
fem reader, jus pure fluffy fluff ! katsuki n reader watch selling sunsets bc my mom does lmfaoo this ones for you momma, kissing, biting (lol will i ever stop), lemme know if i missed sum else !
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katsuki regrets planning this surprise.
it’s been one month. exactly 31 days since he’s last seen you. one month he had to survive off of late night phone calls and good morning messages.
katsuki had slowly but surely started climbing up the ranks as a hero ever since he’d gone independent and this mission was a huge steppingstone to victory.
except it involved him going abroad for a month.
you’d congratulated him when he’d told you. you hugged him hard and offered him your brightest sunshine smile, you’d made him dance around your little living room with you, celebrating his ‘rise to stardom’ as you’d called it and he remembers chuckling about it. you’d even gone out of your way and made his favorite to celebrate. but now katsuki understand you were probably doing that so as not to worry him.
he's known you for a long while and he knows you know he can tell when you’re lying, so he was sure you were happy for him. (you can’t fake anything from him and especially not the way you smile, he’s committed that to memory). and you truly looked happy for him, but he knows youwell enough to know that you were also devastated to find out he was leaving for so long. he’d seen the way your eyes widened and your shoulders dropped. but knowing you, you probably powered through it so as not to make him worry.
so stupid. you’re stupid. and he misses you so much.
despite you being in different time zones you make it work. he made sure to be updated daily and called you every time it was time for you to go to bed to make sure you got some well needed sleep and not staying up late mindlessly scrolling through your feed.
you send him pictures of everything happening throughout your day and you’d hound him about his, asking him if he’d eaten well and if he’d beat up any bad guys. and no matter how minuscule his actions were you’d always praise him. as somewhat childish as he knew it was katsuki still walked with his head up high for the rest of the day. if it was to impress you and make you proud, he’d be on the clock 24/7. but, knowing you, you’d get mad at him for overworking himself.
he misses you so much.
he’s on the plane. making his way back home to you a day before he’d told you he would be, his surprise. you’d been so excited, your squeals ringing through the phone, katsuki just couldn’t wipe the smile of his face and goddamnit he tried.
“ou, i can’t wait ! i missed you sooo much, katsu !” you chirped, he couldn’t wait to hear your voice in real life again instead of through his phone.
“yeah, missed you too sweets” he hums, packing up the last of his stuff.
“you better be ready cus when you get back, m’not gonna let you go for a whole month.” you tease, giggling. katsuki huffs out a laugh, looking down at his luggage ready to go as he’d fully finished packing up while you were on the phone.
“uhuh~?” he muses “better be ready for me when i get back. yer not goin’ anywhere either. no bathroom breaks when we're cuddling.”
“ew,” you snort “what am i supposed to do if i have to pee ?”
“that sounds like a you problem, sweetheart.”
you laugh and laugh and katsuki smiles, he couldn’t wait to be able to hear and see it again. expect not one phone call away, like he’d told you he always would be when you’d accompanied him to the airport all teary eyed, but in real life.
except now he’s starting to regret not just coming home on time.
don’t get him wrong, the sooner he gets to you the better. he’d meant it when he told you he wouldn’t let you go and as somewhat embarrassing as it is to him that he had gotten so clingy, being away from you for so long really did a number on him. distance makes the heart grow fonder his ass, he was more than fond of you when he was laying next to you every night instead of all alone in his hotel bed.
but right now he’s way too antsy. he wants to tell you about how he’ll be home soon to hear you squeal and giggle, but he sucks it up in favor of surprising you.
it’ll be worth it. at least that’s what he tried to convince himself when he finished packing up. and on his way to the airport. and on the plane..
who even thought of this stupid surprise idea anyway ?!
he can’t sit still. he has to stop himself from tapping his foot against the floor and shuffling around in his seat. the guy in front of him keeps reclining his seat back but it doesn’t bother him that much, because all he needs is to remember your smile and remember he’s coming home to you, and he feels his nerves settle. recliner-seat-guy be damned.
it’s pitch black by the time he’s off the plane and finally back home. when he checks his phone he sees it’s 2:09 am and you’re no doubt dead asleep by now, he smiles at his phone screen when he sees you smiling back at him.
his limbs suddenly feel heavier the higher the numbers show on the screen inside the elevator to his floor. his body buzzes with excitement but for some reason he can’t help feeling nervous. katsuki knows it’s stupid because you tell him every day how much you miss him and how excited you are to see him. all he wants right now is to see you.
he fumbles around a bit when he fits his keys into the door to walk into your tiny shared apartment and when he finally walks back inside, katsuki is reminded why he does this. why he’s been gone for exactly 31 days.
he kicks his shoes off quietly and sees yours left right by the door like they always are. like he always wants them to be. he wants to come home to your shoes by the door and to you smiling at him brightly and greeting him, or beckoning him over to the couch because you’ve been waiting all day to watch your favorite show with him. (he’s forbidden you from watching any episode of selling sunsets without him, the last time you did he got cranky at you for a good 2 hours.)
katsuki sneaks over to your room, socked feet padding over to the door quietly cracking it open. he’d managed to convince you to move in with him a few months ago, claiming it’d lower costs and yapping about how you practically lived here anyway. it was barely anything to get used to, it felt natural, like this was everything his life was leading up to. but he wants to give you everything you deserve and this cramped little apartment is definitely not it.
he wants to give you a cosy little house, or a penthouse or even a fucking mansion if that was what you wanted, as long as he could be there with you he didn’t care. he’d do whatever he could to get you everything you dreamed of at the flick of a wrist. and that’s why, as annoying and lonely as it was to be without you for so long, he’d pushed through.
katsuki needs to save people, and he wants to. but everything he does, he does with you in a little corner of his mind.
you’re fast asleep like he’d expected, katsuki huffs out a laugh, brushing at your cheek with his finger. his heart almost explodes when you try to lean into the faint touch and he can’t help it anymore. he sits down by your side and kisses your cheek. once, two times, three times and a little one on your nose. if he wasn’t feeling all mushy he’d be an asshole and bite you, but you look so cute he’ll put that off for now.
your nose scrunches up and your eyebrows furrow at the wet kiss onto your skin, you instinctively go to rub at your face with a whine, katsuki chuckles to himself when you open your eyes and the lack of distance between you both meaning your quite literally face to face with him.
“katsu..?” you mumble sleepily “ ‘m i dreamin’ ?”
katsuki chuckles, eyes soft “glad to know ya dream about me, but nah, this isn't a dream.”
you blink sleepily, and katsuki recognize those bright eyes he so loves gleaming the more you wake up “katsuki !” you squeal, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him straight against your collarbone, since he was practically nose to nose with you before he knocks against your chin but you both don’t care.
katsuki crawls into bed and wraps his arms around you tightly, snickering into your neck and you into his hair. you squeeze and squeeze him so hard he thinks you’ll suffocate him but he couldn’t care less, squeezing you like he’s trying to mold you to him.
you breathe him in and he flips you both over with you giggling uncontrollably. you topple over and land straight into his chest. you lift your head up with stars in your eyes like he’d hung up the moon for you and katsuki smirks back softly. because he would. he’d hang up the moon and the stars and more.
all for you.
“you’re back !” you chirp, kissing all over his face. katsuki feels his cheeks hurt, this is the hardest and longest he’d smiled in a month.
“how’d you figure that one out ?” you roll your eyes at his sarcastic remark, blowing lip bubbles against his cheeks as punishment. he playfully pushes your face away from him and you laugh.
“i thought you weren’t coming back until tomorrow..” you quickly reach over to your nightstand to check your phone then throw it back down.
“it is tomorrow.” katsuki quips, already getting back to being a smart ass, you roll your eyes but you can’t wipe off the happy look on your face.
“you know what i mean, asshole” you jokingly narrow your eyes at his smug face and press a finger against his cheek “later tomorrow i mean. was gonna surprise you and you….out-surprised, me” you pout at your ruined plans.
he turns his face so he can sink his teeth into your pointer finger and you quietly squeal in disapproval, he smirks “was gonna, but couldn’t wait anymore. needed to see you.” he pulls you closer to run his nose against your pulse point “felt like i was gonna go fucking crazy if i stayed with those other bastards for a second longer.”
you giggle, placing your hands against his shoulders as he kisses up and down your shoulder and neck haphazardly “ don’t be mean.” you scold.
he lifts his head up to raise a brow at you, hands running up and down your sides “you mean to tell me you wanted me to stay away? didn’t miss me ?” he jokes, squeezing your hips harshly.
“of course i did. missed you so much i felt my heart would tear up sometimes..” you smiles sadly, running your fingers through his blond strands, he frowns "but i'm glad you're back now."
"yeah, and m'not leaving again for a damn long while." he squeezes you so hard he lifts you up in his lap a little bit and a surprised noise leak out of you. he lifts his head up from your chest to smirk at you in challenge "you're gonna have to get used to me and my big mouth all over again."
your heart squeezes, you feel like it'll bursts from happiness and katsuki wonders if he' supposed to feel this happy, if it's okay to be this content with one person. but only for a moment, because he's greedy, so so greedy for you. and he doesn't care if it's wrong because he gets to make you happy, to make you smile and laugh, to have you.
and katsuki does everything for you, so he gives himself to you without a second thought.
you hum, placing your hands against his soft cheeks to press your lips to his "got a month worth of your big mouth i need to catch up on." you whisper before finally closing the distance. you both immediately sigh in relief at the contact, being able to feel each other like this again. you smile into the kiss and katsuki thinks he's never felt more at peace.
after a month, exactly 31 days, katsuki's finally back.
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bonus :
"hey." katsuki ask, you snuggle into his side and hum.
"did you watch any episodes of selling sunsets without me ?"
you stiffen.
"n-noooo..." the sheets shuffle and crinkle when katsuki looks down at you. you shrink into yourself.
"maybe one or two.." you squeak out meekly. immediately he's flipping you over and pouncing on you.
"fuckin' traitor." he growls.
"i'm sorry i couldn't help myself !" you wheeze when he starts tickling your sides, kicking at the sheets "it's been a month !" you screech trying to catch your breath.
"yeah i know that !" he exclaims, ignoring the way you're thrashing around as he mercilessly tickles you.
"i'm soooorryy !!"
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metanoiahh · 5 months ago
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Get off my back - Daryl Dixon
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˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚꩜ ➴
Summary: A great fascination for the youngest Dixon took over you ever since the Quarry. Daryl notices and in fear of reciprocating your feelings, he continuously pushes you away. After Andrea shoots him, you don’t leave his side with the excuse of keeping an eye on him.
Warnings: Implied age gap (reader early 20s, Daryl late 30s) Fem!reader, Usual TWD gore, mentions of injuries, angst, yelling, mean!Daryl, failed-ish attempts of comfort, slightly medically skilled!reader, cigarettes, Daryl being a little too abrasive.
Era(s): Quarry, Greene farm.
Word count: 1.7k
˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚꩜ ➴
Your eyes were trained on him the second you got to the group. As days went by, he seemed to have cast a spell on you, hypnotised you with something only he had. You saw beyond his mean persona, his rugged ways only making his vulnerability shine through. How you treated him didn't go unnoticed, not by him, certainly not by the rest. Always ensuring he had everything he could use before leaving for a hunt, sparing him extra food because 'He needed the extra energy', even small insignificant details like leaving his folded clothes at his tent door were starting to get to him. He felt like you could read him better than he could himself, which made him want to hate you.
Daryl kept everyone at a distance, but you were kept even farther. It bothered you and occupied your thoughts like a plague, you were practically living with the sole purpose of showing him he was worth everything you'd ever do and more. He had pulled something within you, although it was beyond your comprehension, you let your instincts and desire take you over. You were anything but pushy, you didn't try to force yourself onto his life, content with giving and not receiving even a glance your way in return. The archer hated that he couldn't bring himself to hate you.
In a fucked up world where the dead roamed, injuring oneself with the simple task of carrying firewood seemed flat-out stupid. Angry mumbles escaped the man as the log fell with a thud. "Goddamnit." Your eyes lifted from your task of shaping branches as stakes, at the sound of Daryl's grumbles. Blood dripped down to the ground as the blue-eyed man fixated on his newly obtained cut.
"Sit." You pointed to the nearest makeshift seat, marching your way inside your tent to look for your precarious medical supplies. "Wha' " He growled, squinted eyes now settled in your back, as he obeyed your command.
"You heard me." You replied in a quiet mumble, carrying alcohol, iodine, and bandages in one hand. You accommodated yourself on the ground at his feet, hands grasping his injured one in one swift but gentle motion. "Won't need stitches." You assured. Worried demeanor showed through your actions and on this occasion, he couldn't look away.
His stare changed from your face to your working consistently, as you finished wrapping the bandage expertly he looked at you through his eyebrows. "Ya' a doctor 'fore all this?"
A nostalgic smile crept up your face, usually content eyes now clouding with sadness. At your change of aura, he wished he could take back the question, even if he didn't understand what was wrong in his doing. "Sorry." He spoke barely above a whisper, raspy voice making him nearly unintelligible
"Third year of med-school. 'bout to start my fourth." He nodded, now wrapping his mind around your medical knowledge, you did look too young to be a doctor.
After that evening he stayed even further from you, which you didn't think possible. Still, you abstained from offering to look after his wound, knowing he was capable of doing that himself, and knew it would bother him to have the obligation of holding a conversation with you every day. The archer hated that you knew all that, proving his point of you being able to read him like your favourite goddamn romantic novel. If his mind stayed too much upon it, he would drive himself insane.
The next few weeks were hectic, in a matter of days you were already starting to get settled in a new location, a family farm that was lending you the place till the shot kid, Carl, healed and the lost kid, Sophia, whom Daryl frantically looked for, resurfaced from god knows where.
You paced around camp, Daryl had left earlier that morning and while that wasn't odd, the unsettling feeling in the pit of your stomach was. "He's fine." Carol smiled at you, laying a comforting hand on your shoulder. Your brows furrowed, answering your own silent question as to how she knew what was on your mind. Being sly was never your strength.
"I know." You smiled, rubbing her back up and down in a reciprocation of her action. You admired how she stood strongly, after the death of her asshole husband and the disappearance of her daughter, she had survivor written all over her face. The calm atmosphere faded at the series of unfortunate events that continued to unfold before you. A shot, screaming and a bloody, limp archer being carried inside the house.
As Hershel worked on the wound at his torso, which you were relieved to know was not a walker bite, you got your hands on the bullet graze at the side of his head. The youngest Dixon would be fine, back on his feet in a few days time, that didn't wash away your anger at the blonde now standing behind you. "Oh my god, he's going to be fine, right?" Andrea questioned for the billionth time.
Your eyes travelled back to her. "You won't be if you don't shut your mouth." Attention back on your stitching, you mumbled an unintelligible cuss, anger practically bubbling out of you.
That night you slept curled up in a chair next to his sleeping form. He had woken up multiple times, only having the strength to look around the room and then doze off once again. You kept constantly waking up to check for a fever, maybe a broken stitch, anything putting his life at stake, your mind could not rest easy. Andrea had apologised to him and even to you, but you brushed her off, too angry to hold a conversation on the topic still.
The idea of not having the archer around made your heart sink. His rough hands that you ached to hold, blue eyes that got smaller the brighter his surroundings got, the unsympathetic yet very empathic personality that made him so fucking special, and his fear of being loved which pulled you close to him. Losing Daryl Dixon would've made you wish you stayed at the CDC. That would've been the day when you wouldn't be grateful at Doctor Jenner for giving you a shot at life.
"You need to stay in bed!" Exasperated, you grabbed both of the brunette's shoulders, pushing him down on the bed. The morning of the second day after his accident, Daryl wanted to get back on his normal doings. He glared at you sideways, the corner of his mouth lifting up before he spat out the words.
"Get off my back, bitch. Don’ need ya’ pesterin’ me like you’re ma’ goddamn babysitter.” He pushed you off him with a strength he couldn't seem to control under his rage spell.  The volume of his voice grew louder by the second. “Always ´round ‘ere. Big brown eyes starin’ like I’m bein’ exhibited. I ain’t your pet. Sure as hell ain't your boyfriend.” Now on his feet, he held the bedsheets to his torso as he looked over the room for his clothes.
You stared at him, not a sign of emotion on your features, though you wished you could yell back, maybe even shed a tear or two, but you knew it would be uncalled for. Same way everything you had been doing was.
You extended your hand holding a pile of folded clothes, his folded clothes. The brunette snatched them from your grip without care, launching them onto the mattress behind him.
His body caged yours, one of his hands gripped your forearm as you were backed up into a wall. Your free hand went to rest against his bare chest, no pressure inflicted nonetheless. “Dar..” You whispered, chin pointing towards the ceiling to look into his eyes. 
“Don’ call me that like I’m your friend. Ya’ could be gone tomorrow ‘n I wouldn’t give a goddamn shit.” His grip tightened as his face inched closer to your own, so much his breath fanned over the tip of your nose. "Yer so desperate t'be loved it shows how ya never have been before, but I don't do charity, so go bother somebody else and leave me the hell alone!."
He stood like that for half a minute, keeping you in place with his hand clutching your skin tight, though his grip fell the second he noticed a hint of pain in your eyes, though you weren't sure if it was for his grip or his words, implying you weren't worthy of anything. Making you feel small. He pushed himself off you, taking a good few steps back. "Get the hell outta 'ere." He yelled, pointing with his uninjured side to the, hopefully empty, hall behind the bedroom door.
You had vanished. Completely erased yourself from existence for the rest of the day. You grabbed the pack of cigarettes you had kept after your last run, a lighter, and climbed up the tree furthest away from everyone. You sat on the wide branch with your knees to your chest, the stilled bike belonging to the man you had pestered all this time staring right back at you, yelling the same words he had hours ago. He was right, couldn´t argue against anything he said, as much as it hurt, it was the truth.
You were down to the last two tobacco sticks, an unlit one being hugged by your reddened lips from all the nervous biting. "Hard as shit lookin' for ya in this state." His grumble woke you up from your daydreaming, eyes landing right on his as you brought the fire to your cigarette. "Wha's doctor doin' with a smoke? Don' tha' kill you?" He tried to joke around after being met with radio silence on your part. Attempting to rip something out of you.
A small smile formed on your lips, shrugging. "Gonna die sooner or later." You weren´t big on it, but ever since you were sixteen cigarettes were a habit of you that was embarrassingly hard to let go of. His head was at level with your legs, you weren´t too far up and he didn't lack height. Hence why he easily reached for the last cigarette and the red lighter beside you, lighting it up swiftly.
" 'm sorry." He whispered. The view you had was one you wanted carved onto your skin. The sun setting behind the archer, his dirty blond hair being lit up by the orange beaming from the large figure. Cigarette between his lips, as well as your own, and a shy hand, going to rest on your calf in an awkward comfort-inducing mannerism he wasn´t too experienced with.
" 's fine." You smiled, hand enveloping his. "i'll get off your back."
"Don'. I like ya' pesterin' me."
˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚꩜ ➴
i kinda hate it but i got it done lol
Anyway, my requests are open! please leave me anything you'd want to read and with no promised deadline I'll get it done :)
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strugglingsapphic · 3 months ago
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Oblivious chloe feels because girl couldn't figure out they were in the past for a hot minute this mf is DENSE in all caps. Middle picture is actual footage of Red dealing with oblivious chloe
Red is TIRED of this girl, chloe charming has got to be the most oblivious dense princess in existence, and Red just had to pick this one (she never means that in a negative way, she loves chloe so much but cmon girl get with the program) Red has tried everything in existence to get chloe to realize she likes her. She's flirted, called her princess (and every other name in the book), cuddle, she's kissed her cheek (and forehead, knuckles, head, neck, back), she's set her wall paper as Chloe for fucks sake, the princess is saved in her phone as "Baby����✨" and goddamnit this girl will not catch on that Red feels the same. It gets so bad that Red calls the Charming's to just scream because their daughter is so oblivious, and it's just so pitiful that Ella feels obligated to apologize because she got that trait from her father.
Red: Aunt Ella, for as smart as Chloe is, she's a fucking idiot
Chris: She got that from me Red, not my best quality
Red: she's so oblivious, i've tried everything
Ella after letting out a huge sigh: i'm sorry sweetheart
When Chloe finally realizes, nobody lets her live it down because the girl quite literally took forever and the entire experience had shaved 10 years off of Red's life. Chloe promises to make it up for the rest of their lives together, to which Red just rolls her eyes and pulls her in for a kiss.
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starry-eyes-love · 1 year ago
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Chapter 4: Please, I need you
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Series Masterlist
Pairing: Joel x F!Reader (18+, Minors DNI), Post-outbreak
Summary | The night after Joel has his panic attack he tries to fall asleep across the hall from where you two had been staying together. After tossing and turning he eventually slips into a deep dream where he finally gets what he wants, you, but he finds himself being woke up by your when it gets to the good part. With his mind racing and his body throbbing, he does the one thing that he knows he shouldn’t, promises to be in a relationship with you.
Warnings | 18+, minors DNI. Smut (from a dream, p in v sex), language, sexual references and tension, tender Joel, possessive Joel, sweet name calling (honey, baby, sugar, Angel, etc.), age gap, no use of y/n, slight descriptions of body type (dream like state), pining, slight pressure of sex (respect people’s boundaries), tad bit of fluff and angst.
Word Count: 6.8
“Come on baby, I know you're still mad at me, but let me make it up to ya, m’kay?" he said pleading with you. "Come on sugar, just a little bit more” Joel begged as he kept trying to undo your pants while expertly rubbing in-between your legs with his clothed thigh.
Joel's POV
Joel tosses and turns, he can't get comfortable on the mattress. He tries sleeping on the floor, tries sleeping on the bed, tries sleeping with his back against the wall, but nothing works. The problem is, he's not next to you. He doesn't feel your back tight against him or your arms draped around him. He's too warm, then he’s too cold. The surface is either too soft or too hard. God, he needs to get some sleep, or he ain't gonna be shit tomorrow for helping you learn how to shoot a bow.
As he lays there awake he keeps thinking and wondering if you’re doing ok. If you're warm enough, if you can't sleep without him either. Fuck it, he thinks to himself, I can just go in there to see if she's asleep, and if she's not then I'll sit down and help calm her down to get her to sleep, Joel thinks to myself. Before he can talk himself out of it he's up and moving quietly across the hall to check on you. Standing next to the bed he sees that you're fast asleep in a deep slumber. He stands there in awe looking at you. He doesn't think he's ever seen you this relaxed or deep in sleep, usually you're sleeping with one eye open like he does. I can't wake her, he thinks, she looks too damn peaceful. So he grabs the blanket that is tucked next to you and drapes it over your body. He then leans down and gently kisses your cheek while saying quietly "sleep soundly, my Angel." When he’s done, he walks down the hall to check on Ellie and finds her in the same position, sleeping soundly.  He stands there for a moment admiring her soft features and once again he tucks her in and whispers as he kisses her cheek “sleep soundly kiddo.”  Joel then returns to his bedroom, but leaves the door open in case one of his girls need him, in case you need him.
Joel tries to go back to sleep, but he keeps tossing and turning in bed.  When he falls asleep he only falls asleep for a few moments before jerking awake again. Get it together man he thinks to himself rubbing a hand down his face. He’s tired and exhausted, worried about the safety of everyone, especially about you.  He doesn’t like the distance you have put between the two of you.  He hates to see how withdrawn you have been with him, almost afraid of getting close to him, as if he’s going to hurt you.  And he has, he has hurt you emotionally considerably and he hates himself for it.  He has never wanted to hurt you, make you doubt his heart or caring attitude for you.  But living in survival does something to a man, it makes him rough and hard on the outside.  Makes him have to be strong and determined to protect what belongs to him.  No, you don’t technically belong to him but goddamnit, he’s going to make sure you are taken care of in life and not going without if he can help it.  
The longer he lays there the more he thinks about you and the life you two have had together.  He thinks back to the QZ and him helping you get enough money to get out of the situation with David.  That fucking asshole he thinks to himself.  The way David hurt you, the way he harmed you boils fire in his veins and makes him feel protective over you in a way he hasn’t felt in a long time.  Get it together man he whispers to himself, ain’t no use thinking about that shit, it’s in the past and it ain’t gonna fix things now.  He knows he needs to fix things with you, to get you to trust him once again and be his in every possible way.  
He gently turns onto one side and stares out of his room in the dark to watch you sleep. He focuses on the gentle rise and fall of your breaths to help ease the tension in his muscles and in his back.  You are safe and sound he tells himself.  As Joel lays there he keeps watching you breathe, and it slowly lulls him into being relaxed and Joel quickly finds himself drifting off into a deep dream…
Joel's Dream State
Joel had pulled up in his pickup truck outside of your house in Austin to pick you up for a date.  There was no end of the world, no outbreak, and his baby girl (Sarah) was still alive and healthy at 12 years old. This summer was an incredibly warm and busy summer for him. He was working all the time, trying to expand his business, Miller Contracting. You two had been dating for a while and recently you had gotten into a horrible argument because he wasn’t able to spend time with you. 
Summer free time was something that he rarely had this year and any free-time he did happen to have was either spent with his daughter, or was spent working on expanding his business.  Joel was a single father, his ex-wife Teesh (short for Theresa) was in the picture with having partial custody of Sarah every other weekend. On the weekends Sarah was with Teesh he tried to spend with you, but lately he wasn’t able to because of an extra contract he took for building a garage for some guy across town. Dating wasn’t something Joel was very used to doing, as he hadn’t done it in over 5 years, but he was trying to do it with you. 
The one time this summer that he did plan on spending with you he accidentally fell asleep and forgot to show up for your date to which you got upset and slammed the door in his face the next morning when he showed up to apologize. He tried calling, tried stopping by your work, tried sending you flowers, but you were hurt and upset and he understood why.  Finally after a few weeks of trying to get you to talk to him you had agreed on another date with him, and this time he didn’t want to mess it up.
“Wow darlin’ you look beautiful” Joel said as he watched you walk down the stone path from your house to his truck.  You were wearing his favorite yellow floral summer dress that landed just above your knees.  Your hair was long and set into loose waves that cascaded gently down your back, several inches below your shoulders.  The dress you wore fit you nicely, showing and accentuating every curve that you had.  Seeing you come down the stone path gave a shock of adrenaline into his already aching cock.  With being busy, he hadn’t had the time to properly take care of himself, let alone take care of you and he hated himself for it.  You were gorgeous at 25 and he was a 37 year old man, though some days he felt like he was 53 with how his body responded.
“Thanks, Cowboy” was all you said as you climbed into his pickup truck, a nickname that you had given him several months ago when he wore cowboy boots out on a date with you.
As Joel continued to dream he found himself laughing and smiling in the date with you. He took you to all of your favorite places in Austin, but he really didn’t remember what they were called or everything that you talked about in his dream-like state.  Joel’s mind only focused on your body and your smile, feeling carefree with him and laughing with him.  Suddenly Joel’s mind fast forwarded to his bedroom.  You were lying on your back in his bed where Joel made out with you like you both were a bunch of teenagers.  He was also rubbing one of his legs in-between your thighs, rubbing it up and down into your aching heat, hearing you give off little whimpers at the sensation. When Joel reached for the button of your jeans to unbutton them you had slapped his hand away saying “‘M-still mad at you,” but you continued to kiss his neck and lips.
“Come on baby, I know you're still mad at me, but let me make it up to ya, m’kay?" he said pleading with you. "Come on sugar, just a little bit more” Joel begged as he kept trying to undo your pants while expertly rubbing in-between your legs with his clothed thigh.
“Joel, quit it, I said I didn’t want to do that” you said trying to hold onto the last bit of dignity you had with being mad at him.  But when Joel started to nip your neck you heard yourself say outloud “Joel, oh-fuck- that- that feels good. Fuck- please.” As soon as you let out a low moan Joel switched and put you fully on your back where he laid in-between your legs. He continued to nip and suck on your neck while he expertly ground his rock hard bulge into your clothed and soaking wet heat until you were begging him to not stop. 
You were so desperate for him to touch you, but you were trying to prove a point to him that he couldn’t just use sex as a way for you to forgive him. But goddamn it, you were so horny and wanting your boyfriend bad again. “Please Joel- baby please” you said in-between whimpers.
“Please, what darlin’? What do ya need, honey?" Joel quietly whispered in your ear as he continued to nip your neck.  The next thing you knew both of you had ripped off your clothes and Joel was fully sheathed into you and was fucking you hard while whispering, “Goddamn baby, you’re so fuckin’ tight for me. Yeah, does my baby like it, like taking my cock like this. God woman, this pussy was made for me.”
Joel continued to whisper filthy words into your ear, telling you how good you felt, how much you were made to take him, and how much he loved being inside of you and being with you.  He was pounding into you so hard that his headboard kept hitting the wall with each hard thrust he was doing. He was so deep inside of you, hitting your cervix with each hard snap of his hips, filling you in every way possible that no one else could ever do with you. “God baby, I can’t get enough of this pussy. You’re so perfect for me Angel, so fucking perfect” he said as he picked up the pace while chasing his high, moaning loud as his eyes rolled back into his head.  He felt the heat travel up his spine, the knot form so hard in his stomach, moaning loud with each brutal thrust he was doing, he was two seconds from blowing his load deep within your walls when he felt it…
“Joel. Joel, wake up. Come on, wake up” you said sternly to him as you shook him violently awake.  His eyes snapped open and he whispered your name. As he slowly came down from that high he was chasing in his dream and back down to reality, back to the cabin in the middle of the woods after the outbreak. It was then that he realized that everything that was happening with you begging for him was all just a dream.  He was having just a dream, and God he wanted it to be true. He wanted to be your boyfriend fucking you the way he was in that dream so damn much.
As realization hit him that he was just dreaming he slowly closed his eyes and let out a long exhale along with saying in a low and raspy voice “what do ya want?” As he waited for your response he slowly rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and allowed his senses to fully take over again back to reality and the life you two were living now.  When you didn’t answer him right away, he looked around and then sighed as he sat up in bed saying “what’s up darlin’, why did ya shake me awake?”
When you saw that Joel was relaxed and asking you why you had woken him up, you felt really stupid.  You had been laying there in your bed across the hallway for some time, tossing and turning in bed. You had dozed off for a bit, but then had a horrible nightmare where you felt like you were left alone in this world, and no one was there for you anymore. It was the same nightmare that came with the one with Dave, an old boyfriend of yours, and the night that Joel saved you. You had heard Joel moaning in his sleep and figured he was having the same nightmare of the night Sarah died, but at seeing him so relaxed now you figured he was having a different sort of dream, one that you could no longer have.
When Joel didn’t hear you answer him, he reached down and lifted your chin gently upwards while saying “you had a nightmare again didn’t ya?” You quietly and slowly shook your head yes.  “Same one or different one sweetheart?” he asked. 
“Uh- the sa-same one” you sniffled as the images of what happened came flooding back into your head.  “I um- I heard you moaning and thought you were having one too and I- I- I couldn’t sleep and was-” you struggled to get out your sentence as your voice shook and started to crack with pain at the memory you were recalling with Dave.
“Come here darlin” Joel said pulling you onto the bed and tucking you on your side close to him. He slowly wrapped his hands around you, tucked you tight against his chest, with one leg in-between yours while resting his head on top of your head.  This was the same position the two of you had been in countless times while sharing a sleeping bag together. You two were practically physically attached to each other but he knew this was the only way to quiet those nightmares, something he learned back at the QZ when you stayed with him that first night, the night the nightmares showed up.
“Darlin’ ya need to relax, ok. Baby, he ain’t ever gonna hurt ya again, you hear me? I made sure of it, didn’t I? He’s gone and not coming back” Joel said while slowly rubbing soothing strokes up and down your back with his hand as your body kept giving aftershocks of tremors due to your nightmare.
“I know Joel. It’s just that I was scared and couldn’t sleep. Then I heard you moaning and I thought you were having a nightmare too” you said slowly into his chest. 
Joel froze at the mention of you hearing him moan. When he felt you stiffen against him, he took a steadying breath and said “that moanin’ wasn’t from a nightmare darlin'.”
“Uh- Joel, what was-” you stuttered trying to find a way to ask what his dream was about.
“Doesn’t matter baby, it just wasn’t from a nightmare, okay. I’m fine and you're fine too” he said tenderly.
After you didn’t respond verbally to him, he eventually felt you curl inward more within his arms, making yourself feel small. He knew you only did this when you were upset about something, or stressing about something. So with a long exhaled sigh he asked you “darlin’, what’s the matter?”
When you didn’t respond right away to him, he nudged you slightly as a way of encouraging you to open up and speak your mind of what was bothering you. When you didn’t respond again he gave you a slight warning stating “I asked ya a question didn’t I? Now don’t make me repeat myself again sweetheart.”
You quickly replied “oh, I can’t ya know. Do those types of dreams anymore. I’m- I’m sorry for waking you and interrupting you with-”
“It’s okay sweetheart, I don’t mind,” he said softly.
“Was it about Tess or about your ex, or maybe a girlfriend before outbreak day. I uh-could let you get back to sleep to see if”
Joel interrupted you and said “ain’t none of those people honey.”
“Oh” you said in a meek voice. “Um- oh. Ok. Yeah, I mean if it’s someone new or-” you glanced up at Joel and saw that he was looking down at you with his eyebrow raised. When you looked into his eyes pleading with him to tell you, wanting him to say it was you in that dream more than anything as you couldn’t muster up the courage to open your mouth and officially ask him who it was.
After Joel watched a multitude of emotions run across your face, he finally exhaled and said “baby, I”
“Joel, it’s okay” you said while interrupting him, trying to keep it together while talking to him about this. “You don’t have to, ya know, if ya don’t- what I mean is. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, I’ll just leave you alone and you can go back to-”
“Not happenin’ darlin’. You ain’t going nowhere, ya hear me.” he snapped at you as you tried to get up and leave while pulling up those hardened masks the world has forced you to create as a way of coping with life.  As you started to get up Joel grabbed your hip harder and squeezed while saying with a low warning of a growl “don’t you dare fucking move little girl. I said you are staying right here” and he slowly pushed his hand into your lower back to slightly rub you up against his bulge in his pants. As you looked at him you saw his eyes go dark, like a predator who had just spotted his prey. This look used to make you freeze and be scared, but now it has the opposite effect on you. Now you get incredibly turned on by his possessiveness. And as soon as you felt him and how hard he was your breath hitched in your throat in response as you said “Joel, you’re ah-”
“Hard? Yes darlin’ I am” he said while staring at you and pushing you a little closer into him.
You didn’t know what was up with Joel tonight, of why he was so forward with you right now. Sex dreams did happen occasionally, and you usually knew when he’d get them when you two shared a sleeping bag as you’d wake up to him mumbling in his sleep and slowly thrusting into you still asleep. But usually once he awoke where all of his senses could take hold of him, he’d go back to being stern, closed off Joel.  But not tonight. Tonight you had no idea what was with him as this was something he never did, flirted and was being honest with you. You didn’t know why, but honestly you didn’t care. You were so turned on by him right now that you were practically soaked through your panties and you wondered what he’d say to you if you were just as honest and straightforward as he was. To hell with it, you thought, let’s see if he likes it a little rough verbally back.
“Oh good” you said to Joel. “I’m glad you’re not the only one turned on, makes me feel better knowing you-”
“You turned on too sweetheart?” he said with a slight smirk to his lips. “I thought ya said ya had a bad nightmare?” Joel knew he was playing with fire and that he shouldn’t indulge you and your little game right now, but damn it he was frustrated.  He hadn't relieved himself in ages again, not able to get alone enough to release that tension properly. And in his dream he was about two seconds from blowing his load deep inside of you and because you woke him up, he was horny and kinda pissed off at you for not letting him finish in his mind.  But right now he was aching so damn bad at the thought of you being wet and needy for him. He was so turned on that each time you moved or talked he felt his dick twitch hard within his pants and he was slowly losing all of his self control with you yet again.
You contemplated your options while looking at Joel’s smug smirk on his face, deciding that you’d play along just to see how far he’d go, because the truth was you were aching for him to be inside you once again.  With a smirk on your face you leaned in and whispered in his ear “yes Joel, I’m turned on right now. I’m practically drenched through my pants and I want to touch myself so fucking bad right now that it hurts.”
When you pulled back to look at Joel you noticed his eyes were completely black, and then you saw a devilish smirk filter across his face as he said “How ‘bout that. Ya soakin’ right through those panties, huh?" Then he leaned closer and whispered in your ear "Honey, I don’t believe you.”
You were a tad pissed that Joel didn't believe you, or that he was challenging you so you quipped “What, are you-” 
“Show me darlin," he quickly said. "Show me how soaked you are."
You cocky bastard you thought to yourself. So with as much courage as you could muster you took his hand and put it to the outside of your pajamas for a moment and then slowly dragged your hand up your clothed heat, where he could feel the wetness on the outside of your pants.  You shook slightly when you got up to your clit, circled his hand a moment and then dragged it back down to where you were drenching your pajama pants. This wetness all came from imaging Joel having a dream where he was fucking someone. When Joel felt how wet you were his eyes rolled back in his head and he said “fuck” in a low growl. 
“Who were you dreaming of Joel” you say with more confidence behind your words, even though you truly didn’t feel it. You slowly kept dragging Joel’s hand up your slit, lightly circling your clit and then back down your slit to feel the wetness continuing to pool there on the outside of your pants.  Joel, with his eyes still closed said in a clipped tone “you know the fuck who I was dreamin’ about.”
“Say it Miller, or I don’t believe you” you quip back at him, giving him the same challenge that he just gave you moments ago while pulling his hand away from you. As soon as you pulled your hand away he snapped open his eyes and starred at you. While looking into his stone cold eyes you felt a switch flip in your head, something that caused your sex drive to go through the roof. What you didn't know was the same switch flipped in Joel's head. He has always thought you were sexy as hell. But turning the tables so quickly on him and challenging him like you just did, it did something to him.  It made him think that maybe you could survive in this world much better than he anticipated. That you could truly be his equal in survival in every way, that you weren’t weak, and that you could handle yourself. And truthfully, that was the biggest turn on for him as he’s never seen anyone challenge him with that much confidence in their voice.
Looking straight in your eyes he said one word sternly and that word was “You.”  He watched your breath hitch in your throat and felt you shift your weight to squeeze together your thighs to relieve a bit of tension there.  With a smirk, he added “I was about 2 seconds away from having the best fucking orgasm of my goddamn life when you shook me awake.”
“What were we, uh- what were we-”
“Doing?” he said as he finished your sentence for you.  You nodded slowly in confirmation at him, wanting him to say it outloud. 
“Well darlin’” he said while moving you onto your back and hooking your legs around his waist, “we were laying on the bed like this and I was fucking you deep and hard like this.”  As soon as he said the word ‘this’ you felt him snap his hips into you hard and grind into your clothed heat.  
“You were in my bedroom back in Austin and I was fuckin’ you so hard my headboard was slamming against the wall” he said while he kept snapping his hips into you and grinding hard into you that you were starting to moan his name slightly as you felt that familiar tension build into your belly once again. 
“You were moaning out my name darlin’, begging me to not stop, to come inside that perfect little pussy of yours” he said while holding your wrists above your head as leverage as he rutted hard against you again like an animal in heat. He felt your legs quiver and knew you were a few thrusts from tipping over the edge yourself.
“And right before we tipped over the edge, you fucking woke me up” he said as he stopped and pulled away from you.  Your eyes snapped open and you watched him devilishly smirk at you. Out of frustration you went to smack him hard across the face again, but this time he caught your hand mid air and slammed it hard on the bed saying “na ah, not this time darlin’. You ain’t slapping me again sweetheart.”  You looked at him seething, hating him and the smirk he had on his face as he said “what’s the matter honey, frustrated that you didn’t get to come?” he says with a laugh.
“Fuck you Joel” you snap at him “don’t be fucking cruel.”
“Don’t be cruel? Don’t be cruel? What the fuck do you call this huh?” he says while rocking into you so you feel his rock hard bulge throbbing against you. “You wake me up while I’m sleeping, you know I haven’t slept in days darlin’ and you just go and wake me outta one of the sexiest and best fucking dreams of my life just to do what?” 
“I thought you were having a nightmare” you bite back at him.
“A nightmare. Why the fuck did you think I was having a nightmare?” Joel snaps at you while he feels his dick twitch against his pants.
“Cause you were moaning in your sleep Joel, and you mumbled ‘please baby don’t, don’t do this to me.’ And I thought-”
It was then that Joel’s mind raced to one thought, the thought of Sarah, of his baby girl dying.  You thought he was having his usual nightmare about Sarah, about the day he lost her.  Joel immediately let go of your hands and sat up in a seated position a few feet back from you while running a hand through his hair and said “no baby, I wasn’t having a nightmare about Sarah. It was you” he said, looking over at you.
“Me?” you question him now sitting up in a seated position yourself. “You were having a nightmare about me, how? Why? What?-”
“No, not a nightmare honey,” he said. “It was just a dream. It was just a really good fucking dream, a dream about you.”
When you continued to look at him puzzled he added “You, ah. You wouldn’t kiss me, or let me touch you and I-”   
“Why wouldn’t I let you touch me?” you say with concern. You weren’t understanding how this could be a dream, a good dream when it sounded like a nightmare to you, because you wanted nothing more than to touch Joel badly in real life, if he’d let you.
“Doesn’t matter darlin’, it was just a dream” Joel says shaking his head at you.
“No Joel, I wanna know why. Why do you think I wouldn’t want you to touch me?”
“Cause you were mad at me for what I did” he says. “I was workin’ all the time and raising Sarah and fell asleep instead of showing up on a date, and-” his voice cracks at the memory of the dream, of trying to get you to take him back. He takes a minute in real life to remind himself that it was just a dream and gives himself a second to pull back the tears that he felt were stinging behind his eyes at the thought of you not wanting to be with him because he hurt you.  That he wasn’t good enough. 
As if you could sense his turmoil in his head you said “Joel, honey, look at me. I would never get mad at you like that, especially for spending time with your baby girl. Sure I would miss you but baby, you gotta believe me I would never in a million years be mad at you for being a single father to your-”
“Doesn’t matter cuz it was just a dream and it ain’t nothin’ that is ever gonna happen cause we, she’s-” Joel says with venom laced in his voice at the painful reminder that Sarah is no longer with him.
“Don’t” you say sternly at him as he turns away from you as the tears threatened to spill from his eyes at the painful reminder that his little girl is gone and that the world is different.
When Joel refuses to listen and pulls away from you, starting to shut you out again with his cold exterior coming back into place you reach out to him trying to center him but he won’t have it. He stands up to leave again, to walk away and close himself off from the world and you are sick of it so you snap back at him saying “Joel, dammit, I said look at me." 
When he finally stops and looks back at you you say with a stern voice "don’t you dare tell me that I would never fall in love with you now, or not find you attractive now. Jesus Joel, what do I have to do to show you that I fucking care about you and want you, huh? Stand on my goddamn head?"
With a sigh he says “darlin’ you just saying that cause I’m the only one you got. Look I’m-”
“You’re 53, yeah I get that” you say with sarcasm. “You have salt and pepper hair, you have bad knees, a bad back, scars on your body and you haven’t been in a long term relationship for a very long time. Yeah I get it old man. But when are you gonna get it that I don’t care about any of that shit. I don’t care if you're older. In fact, Joel. I’ve always liked older men, much older men than me. So get over yourself with your age bit, ya hear me? The only problem I see that you have is your damn hearing cause you don’t ever listen to me on this” you say while walking up to him and starring him straight into the eyes.
Joel just stands there for a moment amazed at your ability to stand up to him and run your mouth off at him.  With a small chuckle he shakes his head gently and says “yeah darlin’ ya probably right on the hearing bit.”
“No Joel, I know I am right, cause you never listen” you say with a shake to your head. Softly you then say “look, I like you, a lot. And I want you, a lot. Not because you are the only person here, but because you are someone I find attractive. I get it if you’re not interested in me and-”
“Don’t” he says sternly while looking at you. “Don’t you even fucking think for a goddamn moment that I don’t find you sexy as hell darlin’. That’s my problem, I want you so goddamn bad that I can’t think straight half of the time and I just" he pauses, trying to find the words to convey how he feels. After a moment he says "I just don’t want ya to be uncomfortable, ya know. I don’t know how to love half assed” and with that admittance he huffs and looks up at the ceiling.
“Yeah, well neither do I Joel" you say while shaking your head. "You were the first guy that saw me and treated me with respect. Hell you saved me from Dave when he- when I almost-” you hear your voice break for a second at the memory of what Dave did to you.
“Come here” Joel says tenderly as he pulls you into his chest and wraps his arms around you holding you close. “Shh darlin’, ya don’t gotta worry about him anymore. I took care of it, remember?” he says while rubbing soothing circles on the skin of your back.  When you finally slow and quiet your breathing, you look back up to Joel’s eyes and notice that he is looking down at you with affection as a small smile lifts up at the corners of his mouth.
“There’s my pretty girl, so beautiful” he says as he brushes your hair from your face. He slowly leans in, caressing your cheek with his thumb while saying “not ever gonna let anything bad happen to ya baby, ok?” and then he slowly brushes his lips against yours in the softest of a kiss.
As he pulls away he says “how’s that, huh?”
“I don’t know” you say “I didn’t really feel it, kinda sucked really” you answer back at him referencing the kiss and not the remark that he’s going to keep you safe. Joel snorts at you while shaking his head and says “smartass.” 
“Yeah but you love me” you say with a smirk.  When you hear Joel slowly inhale and exhale closing his eyes you feel a tight pain in your chest, one where you know heartache is going to lie in a minute if you don’t tell Joel how you feel.  You can’t say the words that you love him yet, as you don’t want to open yourself up for that much rejection, but you need him to understand what you feel.  You gently grab Joel’s left hand and run your finger over his ring finger, at the place where a wedding band would lay, one that you hoped would lay there for you someday, even if just in your mind. You softly plead with him saying “Joel. Please, I need you.”
Joel felt a knot form in his chest at your plea. Not from the request, but from the way you sounded so soft, almost broken.  He couldn’t stand that feeling anymore from you. He couldn't stand looking at you when you felt so small and scared. God he hated it when you felt like that, especially when it was him who caused it. He now looked at you with concern laced across his features as he said “what baby, what do you need? Tell me.” 
After a moment you say looking down at your hand holding his “I need you, Joel. All of you. I need you to kiss me like you did in that dream, like you truly care and not stop cause you get scared, cause I’m scared of losing you and being alone and-”
Joel gently takes your hand in his while using the other hand to tilt your chin up slowly to look him in the eyes. You were nervous to look at him at first, but he just waits for you to look at him by gently holding your chin in place. As you slowly raise your eyes up to meet his you notice that his eyes are full of passion and something that may look like love, but you are unsure.  He takes a deep breath and exhales and then says softly “ok baby, ok. ‘M gonna give you what you need, ok Angel? Shh, no more crying” he says as he slowly wipes a tear away.  He then carefully leans down and kisses you ever so lightly on the lips. 
You melt into the kiss that Joel gives you, not pushing you or forcing you. Just holding you gently and kissing you passionately, but then after a moment Joel kisses you again with a little more roughness. He skims his tongue along on your lower lip silently begging you to grant him access into your mouth.  You silently open your mouth for him and you feel the heat intensify between you two.  The next thing you know you both are swallowing each other’s soft moans that are leaving each of your mouths as you wrestle with each other’s tongues trying to see which one of you will establish dominance, and it is Joel that wins out.  
As Joel thrusts his tongue into your mouth, he licks on the inside of it while picking you up and walking you back over to the bed and laying you down on top of the bed while saying “come on pretty girl, relax for me.”  After a heavy makeout session you are grabbing at his belt to remove it and to pull down the zipper of his pants.  He catches your hand and says “no sweetheart, not tonight” as he gently pulls off from you.  Out of frustration you snap “what the fuck Joel, why not” you say.
He laughs slightly and gives you a quip of “ever hear of delayed gratification darlin’?”
“You’re joking, right?” you say not believing the words coming out of his mouth.
“Not joking sweetheart, dead fucking serious. You ever hear of it?” he says with a smirk.
“Jesus. Yes Joel I’ve heard of it” you say. “Why the hell does it matter now?” you quip back feeling frustrated at the man in front of you.
“It matters darlin’, okay? I’m gonna do it right with ya. It’ll make it feel better in the end, you beggin’ for it. You won’t know what hit ya when it happens” he says with a smirk on his face.
“Fuck you, Joel” you say under your breath.  “You know we have already fucked so what’s the difference if we do it now?”
“Don’t remind me” he says sternly. “I gave in to my animalistic tendencies and never properly did things with you” he says shaking his head.
“You gotta be fucking kidding me” you say outloud, more to yourself than to him.  
Joel eyes you for a moment and then says “darlin’ look, I usually don’t put out on the first date, ok. I make ‘em wait a little bit, and I wanna do that with you. I want to do this right, ok? Wanna do this right darlin’, court you the right way. Now be a good girl for me, yeah?”
You stare at him dumbfounded that he, of all people, wants to keep to tradition of attempting to date you. You can’t believe it, but you also know Joel enough that if you don’t agree to this then he won’t do any of it, and you don’t want that either.  So you reluctantly agree saying “Yes Joel, I’ll be a good girl” with a gentle smile. But in your mind you think you’re gonna regret this Miller. I’m gonna tease you so bad you’ll be the one begging me for it in the end. 
With a smile and a nod Joel says “good honey, glad ya see things my way.  And don’t worry darlin’, I’m gonna eventually fuck you. Deep. Hard. Passionate. But ya gotta earn it first. M’kay?” he says with a smirk on his face.  You smile and nod your head like the good little girl that you are, thinking to yourself yup Miller, we’ll see who’s begging for it the most in the end.
And that’s what you’re going to do.  You’re going to allow that big old broody man to date you the way he wishes with the only goal of making him beg for it the worst in the end. He’s denied you for a long time and yes, you know you will eventually give in to him, but you want him to beg for it like he told you he did in his dream. And you think to yourself Man, this winter is going to be one hell of a winter; full of many warm, dirty, surprises.
--End of Chapter 4-- 
Author’s note: Thank you so much guys for supporting me with this series.  For those who have read all of the parts to My Journey to You you find that I drop Easter eggs in the chapter of something the next chapter will bring.  I’ve dropped a lot in this one.  Next chapter we get into David and how this person was with the reader along with the slow burn of Joel and female reader’s relationship. Please feel free to like, reblog, and comment. If you want to be added to my taglist let me know in the comments.  I only tag people for completed chapters (not for teasers of chapters).  If you want teasers, make sure to turn on notifications for my page.
Side note: Joel’s dream state that he had in this chapter is a huge teaser for another series I am slowly going to start to write.  Don’t worry, I am continuing on with this one too, but I wanted to also write something outside of this series to give you all a little variety.  Also, some one-shots will be coming out in the future too (don’t worry, for those who want to be added to my tag list I will include you guys on those too when they come out).  Enjoy 
Taglist: @punkshort @shotgun-shelby @strawbunnyx @orcasoul @pedritoferg @chiogarza @jesfreedark @untamedheart81 @rainbow12346
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momotonescreaming · 2 years ago
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I've been having Steddie Dads & Surrogate Robin brainworms thanks to this ficlet by @unclewaynemunson so I had to write this quick thing. Hope you like it <3 EDIT - Now on AO3!
Eddie knew that there was a lot involved with surrogacy. As soon as it was on the table, a topic of discussion — Steve had dove head first into research, taking Eddie along with him. They’d be curled up in bed together, Steve flipping through a pile of pamphlets and magazine articles, with Eddie re-reading the hobbit next to him until Steve places a pamphlet between the pages of his book. Lazy afternoons spent in their living room, reading up on agencies, clinics, Eddie with his head on Steve’s shoulder so they can read together.
He knew there was going to be money spent, many many appointments made, trips to doctors and lawyers and other very boring, very adult, very important things.
What Eddie didn’t realise, was how much time was going to be spent standing in hallways, waiting for Robin to piss on a stick.
Each time made his heart clench, his hands shake, knowing that one little plus or minus was going to change the trajectory of his life forever. In a good way of course. Always a good way. Steve squeezed his hand, looking over at him with a nervous smile. Eddie squeezed back — the cool metal of his rings pressing into the warmth of Steve’s hand — and he thunked his head onto the wall behind him.
“Quit it!” Robin hollered, voice muffled through the bathroom door. “You’re making me nervous!”
“I thought you said you peed when you’re nervous?” Steve shouted back, tilting his head towards the door.
“Not when I’m nervous about peeing!” Robin replied, voice still raised and edged with anxiety. “So quit slamming the wall Eddie!”
“How’d you know it was me?” Eddie interrupted, brows furrowing. Robin ignored him and continued shouting through the door.
“It reminds me that you’re there, and you’re listening, and I get all nervous and I can’t pee-“ Robin started to ramble, words merging together as her voice sped up. “-because I know you’re there listening which I know is the point of this whole exercise. But there’s a lot riding on this, riding on me, and then I start thinking about how big this is for you guys — and also for me again — and what if my eggs don’t work? Or I’m a bad surrogate? And then I get even more nervous because I really want to do this for you guys! You two deserve to be dads, and you’re going to be so good at it, which we won’t know unless I can pee Goddamnit.”
Her words ran out, and Eddie could picture her taking a deep breath as she leant on her knees, hunched over her body. He smiled faintly, and thumped his head onto Steve’s shoulder — knowing Robin would shout if she could hear him thump the wall again. A part of him was tempted to — to see what she would shout through the door again — but he couldn’t do that to her now. Not when she was doing so much for them. So Eddie took a deep breath, inhaling the comforting scent of Steve’s cologne and their laundry detergent, letting it calm him as he gently starts rubbing his thumb across the back Steve’s hand.
“Deep breaths, Rob,” Steve said, voice warm and comforting. “You’ve got this.” A pause. “Need me to come in?”
“Maybe?” Robin says quietly, unsure, before quickly correcting herself. “No. Wait- no. I got this. I’ll run the tap and pretend you’re not there.”
“Just yell if you need us,” Eddie added, hoping Robin can hear him over the sound of the now running water. He tries not to think about it too much, make himself too nervous, or too aware that he was just standing in a hallway waiting for Robin to piss on a stick. Of course it wasn’t just any stick.
The three of them have done this a few times now, and it still hasn’t stopped feeling any less nerve wracking. So Eddie takes another deep breath, and lets his eyes glaze over the pictures and paintings Robin’s hung on her walls to distract himself.
There are a lot of photos of her and Steve from throughout the years, and Eddie smiles at the sight. Them in their Family Video vests, back in Hawkins. At a family BBQ in the Buckley’s backyard, hung next to a painting of a horse she got in an estate sale. One from their first apartment in Chicago. The pair of them at Robin’s college graduation.
A photo with Erica and Dustin as well — the infamous Scoops Troop — all of them eating ice cream together. A couple with her and Eddie, smiling and pulling faces at Steve behind the camera, next to a painting that Robin got at a thrift store because the Victorian lady in it looked like ‘a funky old lesbian, but in a haunted sort of way’. Steve had just said it looked sort of like his Grandmother, and Robin had snorted soda up her nose.
They had decided to do the test at Robin’s apartment, in a futile attempt to make her more comfortable. Or at the very least — less nervous than last time, where Robin had locked herself in their hall bathroom and made them go watch TV until she was done. It was negative.
Eddie closed his eyes. The waiting was the worst. The absolute fucking worst. Knowing that one mark on a piece of plastic was going to tell him if he and Steve were one step closer to becoming parents. Becoming dads. And all he could do was wait.
He was both eager for and dreading the answer. He wanted to be a dad, to give Steve his six little nuggets, to raise a family with him. But at the same time he was terrified of turning into his father. A no good piece of shit who was never fit to raise a kid. Steve had talked him down, calmed him, the first time he had a panic attack about it.
It was after their first appointment at the clinic, and he had held Eddie’s hand and had admitted that he was scared too. Scared of turning into his father. To sympathise, not to dismiss Eddie’s fears. It had helped, listening to Steve’s steady breathing and soft voice as he talked about how it was a good thing they were both scared. Means they don’t want to be the sort of men their fathers were. Steve didn’t think his father was worried about neglecting him, he just sort of did it y’know? Eddie had snorted, blinked away his tears, and had admitted that Steve was right. Steve said of course he was, because he knew that Eddie won’t turn into his father. He’s going to turn out like Wayne.
Eddie had cried then, and he could feel his eyes starting to go misty now, standing in Robin’s hallways with Steve’s hand in his. He tries to blink away the tears that were threatening to fall, but Eddie doesn’t think he’s that successful. He knows he’s definitely unsuccessful when he feels Steve gently kiss the top of his head, lips pressing against his curls.
He doesn’t know how much time has passed when they hear the click of the door opening, Robin stepping out into the hall with her hands behind her back. Eddie can feel his throat tighten, and sort of feels like he’s going to puke. Oh God, this is it. Steve tightens his grip on Eddie’s hand, and they both whip their heads around to look at her. Robin’s face is unreadable as she looks down at her feet, and then up to them.
There’s a glint in her eyes now, a certain twist in the corner of her mouth, and Eddie can hear Steve’s breath hitch. She reaches behind her back, and holds the pregnancy test out in front of them. Their eyes are drawn to it like a magnet, desperate, eager, searching.
Eddie looks for the small screen on the side of the test and finds himself staring at a small, red, plus. His gaze snaps to Robin’s, eyes wide, and she’s biting her lips now, holding back the grin that threatens to take over her face.
He looks over at Steve only to find him looking back, his own eyes now glistening with unshed tears. Neither of them say anything as they look back at Robin. Not yet. It feels like as soon as they say anything, verbalise it, make it real, it’s going to hit Eddie like a truck. So he sits in the quiet of the moment, tearing up, Steve’s hand gripped tightly in his.
Robin’s voice is soft and low as she speaks, breaks the silence. “I’m pregnant.”
“You’re pregnant,” Steve repeats in awe, almost reverential. His eyes shine as a stray tear falls. “Holy shit.”
“I’m pregnant!” She repeats, louder this time, no longer holding back a smile but grinning at them widely. Gripping the pregnancy test in her hands, she starts to jump and rock in place. As if her excitement is an itch under her skin she can’t get out. “It worked!”
Eddie hasn’t said anything, he doesn’t know how to. He know’s he’s standing there looking gormless, doe eyed and teary, mouth agape. It doesn’t seem real. It finally worked. Robin is pregnant and it’s theirs. He whispers. “You’re pregnant.” Then again, louder, as if repeating the words would make it more real. “You’re fucking pregnant!”
“We’re having a baby!” Steve says, words dripping with excitement and awe and almost disbelief. He lets go of Eddie’s hand, but before he can miss it’s presence Steve is throwing his arms around both him and Robin, drawing them in close.
Eddie’s really crying now, tears coming out in a flood and he can’t stop them. Above all else, above the fear and the anxiety and the weight of his father — he’s happy. He’s so fucking happy. Steve’s shirt is dampening with Eddie’s tears, and he can hear Robin sniffling herself. If they’re not careful, they’ll spend the whole evening crying in the hall. He leans over to place a wet smacking kiss on Robin’s cheek, and then turns to Steve to give him the same.
Steve turns at the last second, capturing his lips with his own. And then they’re kissing, and they’re crying, smiling through it all with Robin still trapped in a hug. She doesn’t seem to mind, laughing all the while, clutching the test in her hands like it’s made of gold. Steve pulls back from the kiss with a wet pop, and Robin beams through her own tears as Steve buries his face in her neck.
“Thank you,” Steve whispers, loud enough for them all to hear. “For doing this for us.”
“It’s an honour,” Robin replies, words honey sweet and oh so happy. She smiles at them, sniffling. “But if you think I’m not going to milk this for all it’s worth, you’re wrong.”
Eddie throws his head back and cackles.
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girlfriendsofthegalaxy · 7 days ago
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tuesday again 11/5/2024
i am going to do my absolute fucking best to stay off the internet today. also the next time i write one of these i will be goddamn thirty. yeesh.
listening
it took three hours to make a normally brisk 50-minute trip back from the airport on sunday bc there were simply so many accidents. my phone wasn't charging, i was kind of locked into the one way i actually knew how to get home, it was pouring, and the only radio station that was reliably coming through was the local dad rock station.
youtube
i don't think i've ever actually heard this song all the way through before! i have of course heard the chorus in eight billion advertisements and trailers etc, but i tuned in right at the lyrics
I was a willow last night in my dream I bent down over a clear running stream Sang you the song that I heard up above And you kept me alive with your sweet flowing love
big ren faire lady of shallott vibes.
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reading
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witch hat atelier, the first twelve volumes that are out in english anyway. let's yoink the setup from the fan wiki.
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Coco, a girl living in a small village, had been dreaming of becoming a magician since little. But people who don't know how to use magic since birth are unable to become magicians, or witness the moment magic occurs. But one day, Coco accidentally saw Qifrey, a magician that was visiting the village casting a spell. Ecstatic to finally know how magic works, she tries it immediately and transforms her mother into a stone statue. With the help of Qifrey and his disciples, Coco will embark in a magical journey to save her mother.
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this gets a lot of ghibli comparisons, and i get it-- there's a lot of concern about healing scars from a near-cataclysmic magical war, lots of contraptions, bucolic countryside, loving shots of food, etc. i think there is a focus on academia and cohort-building, and how networking is a profession all to itself, that we do not generally see in ghibli films. i think the comp pull should go beyond the aesthetics, as well, but ghibli is still a good comp-- the world of witch hat atelier is dangerous and can hurt or kill you, but it treats the reader's heart with the same care a ghibli movie will. things may not be happily ever after or go perfectly at all times, but there are no twists for the sake of twists, and it doesn't sneer or make fun of you for caring about a character. there are no whedonesque "well THAT happened!" moments. these characters are going to learn and grow and you will learn and grow along with them goddamnit. it is queer but incidentally queer. the folx side of the fags-folx spectrum will feel very welcome here but this is not a tenderqueer kind of gay book. characters are incidentally gay because of course they are, that's just how the world works, look at all the fullness of human expression you can encounter in your one short life, why NOT be gay
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i did not expect this series to kickstart a fresh wave of grief for my own academic experience. coco leans on her cohort so much and they truly do work together to solve problems and come up with good solutions and i wish i had had that kind of astronomy experience. it's kind of cold comfort that i don't know and have never heard of a woman having a good astronomy experience.
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witch hat atelier: very fun to sink into the details on a page (Kamome Shirahama knows how functional but pretty clothes work), endlessly charming veneer on a very taut game of political ethics happening in the grownups' background
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watching
happy noirvember!!!
youtube
Another Man's Poison (1952, dir. Rapper) courtesy of Kanopy's little revolving carousel of new noir films.
An English mystery writer (Bette Davis) kills her husband, then tries to kill a man (Gary Merrill) posing as her husband.
In his review in New Statesman and Nation, Frank Hauser wrote "No one has ever accused Bette Davis of failing to rise to a good script; what this film shows is how far she can go to meet a bad one."
a plot that could only happen in a country where appearances are everything. i must agree with mr hauser and most of the critics of the time who said Huh???? to the script and basic premise. AND the ending is a little too pat. a breakneck ninety minutes filmed in three months where its stage play bones show. however i really like Bette Davis and it's so much fun to watch Bette Davis pace around an English manor house like a caged tiger.
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playing
fallow week, i am having a consistent problem with the now five year old gaming rig overheating and once i solve that issue i am very excited to play Red Dead Redemption the original (thank you again @pasta-pardner !)
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making
deep cleaned my entire house. drove three hundred miles this weekend to pick up my sister and her friend from the airport, go to the ren faire, come back from the ren faire, and take them back to the airport. houston delivered to me some of the worst fucking driving experiences i have ever had here. really upsetting torrential downpour for nearly an hour on a road with no shoulder to speak of.
the actual ren faire was fun! i did not realize how vital a chair or bench with a fucking back was to my rest and recovery. it was nice to go with fellow adults and not help wrangle several small children, as fun as a kid-friendly experience can be. got my overpriced gyro for the year. got my bootleg anime merch for the year. wish it hadn't rained but i feel very smug for packing enough umbrellas and ponchos.
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dwobbitfromtheshire · 9 months ago
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The Fixed Cup
He thought for sure things had settled down between him and Eddie after Vecna. He thought maybe he and Eddie could finally be friends, but how could he be friends with someone so annoying? Steve hoped that once their bat bites healed, they would stop bitching at each other. . . Boy, was he wrong. It's like everything about Eddie set him on edge, and it didn't help that they were stuck in this quarantine that the government had set up for them. Luckily, it was in their own houses, and Eddie was lucky enough to get stuck in his.
"I swear to God, Robin, I'm going to kill him," Steve complained into the receiver. "I mean it this time, and it will be self-defense too because I think he's also trying to kill me. If I trip over his shoes one more time. . ."
"Hmm, well, like I said before, I'm not helping you bury the body," Robin said casually.
"Aw, come on, big boy, it's so much fun watching you clean up after me," Eddie taunted from the other line.
"Get off the other line, Eddie! Goddamnit!" Steve cursed.
"Well, then, how else will I find out what you and Robbie say about me?" Eddie said.
"Well, I think you're a lovely person, Eddie," Robin said.
"Well, I'm glad someone thinks so," Eddie replied.
"Robin!" Steve whined.
"Just keeping you on your toes, Steve," Robin said. "Well, as much fun as this is. . .I'm going to call Vickie."
The line went dead, and Steve scowled before slamming the phone back on the hook. He ran down into the kitchen to find Eddie giggling at the island.
"Munson! You're such an asshole! You know I only have a certain amount of time to talk to her! Why the fuck do you have to do that?" Steve asked.
"The more you keep letting me know it bothers you. . .the more I'm going to do it," Eddie cackled. "It's fun riling you up."
Steve let out a holler and started chasing him around the kitchen. Eddie ran out laughing.
"Dick!"
Of course, it was mostly Eddie who enjoyed taunting him, but there were times that Eddie would get as annoyed with him as Steve did with Eddie himself.
"I told you I don't want to watch some dumb laundry basket game!" Eddie yelled as he grabbed for the remote.
"And I don't want to watch some stupid nerdy cartoon!" Steve yelled as he yanked back the remote.
"You're a douchebag!" He screamed.
"Oh, like you're one to talk!" Steve screamed back.
Eddie shrieked and dove on top of him. Of course, they would wrestle around with it for a while until their wounds gave them no choice but to collapse on the floor in exhaustion. They were mostly healed but still not healed enough. Steve’s not sure what it was. Maybe it was the fact that they were stuck here together with no one else. Maybe they missed their friends, Eddie missing his uncle, or maybe it was the fact that neither one of them could stop the nightmares that came every night. They were on edge all the time, whenever they were around each other. Sometimes, they just crossed the line.
"Eddie!" Steve exclaimed. "That's not a cup you drink out of! There's a sign!"
"Oh, I'm sorry, is the peasant living in King Steve’s house supposed to drink out of the poor cups?!" Eddie exclaimed as he slammed the cup down.
Of course, slamming it down on the table caused it to shatter.
"It's my grandmother's!" Steve said through gritted teeth.
"I'm sure your mommy and daddy can buy your granny another one," Eddie rolled his eyes.
"She hand-made that," Steve said, his eyes glittering with tears.
"And she can't make another one?" Eddie asked.
"It's kind of hard to do anything when you're dead," Steve snapped.
"Shit, man, I'm so - ," Eddie started to say but was startled when Steve slammed him against the wall like Eddie did that day in the boat house.
"I wish I never - " and Steve stopped himself.
"What? Saved my life?" Eddie asked, bristling.
Steve stared at him, gripping the collar of his shirt, and for once, he didn't know what to say. Eddie pushed him off of him and stormed upstairs. They didn't speak to each other for days after that. Steve thought it would be a blessing, but he found that he missed the sound of Eddie's voice. Steve had woken up in the middle of the night, after struggling to go to sleep, and walked into the kitchen to find Eddie gluing the cup back together.
"Almost as good as new," Eddie said, and Steve found himself smiling. "I mean, I wouldn't drink out of it. . ."
"Maybe I can use it as a pencil holder," Steve said and paused. "Thanks. . .and I'm sorry, I shouldn't have. . ."
"I know. I'm sorry, too, man," Eddie said softly.
"I know that it doesn't seem like it, but I'm glad I'm stuck here with you," Steve said.
"Yeah?" Eddie asked and he nodded. "Back at ya."
And for a little bit, it seemed like they were almost getting along until. . .
"I didn't ask you to clean my room, Harrington. You're not my goddamn mommy," Eddie snapped.
"It was driving me crazy!" Steve exclaimed. "Just like you do! I'm sorry if I didn't want you to trip in the middle of the night!"
"You don't have to worry about me, Harrington! I can look after myself, thanks!" Eddie growled.
"It's hard to tell! You couldn't even follow simple instructions! All you had to do was follow the plan. Instead, I find you almost dying in Dustin's goddamn arms!" Steve yelled.
Eddie screamed and pushed Steve up against the wall, pressing his body up against his. They were so close that their noses were almost touching. Eddie pinned Steve’s hand above his head.
"Shut up!"
"Fucking make me."
Eddie growled again before slamming his lips to Steve’s. His eyes widened before he melted into the kiss, moaning into Eddie's mouth. He nibbled on Eddie's lip before swiping his tongue over it and slipping into his mouth. Steve felt his body move on his own and freed himself from Eddie's grasp. He pushed Eddie back onto the bed before ripping off his shirt in a quick single motion, dropping it onto the floor. Eddie was propped up on his elbows, waiting for him. The realization hit him in that moment. . .Holy shit, he just made out with a guy! It wasn't long before Eddie made that same realization, and he looked just as startled as Steve felt. Leaving his shirt behind, Steve quickly ran out of the room. They quickly avoided each other, and not talking seemed to last longer than the cup incident.
"Robin - ," Steve croaked on the phone when he picked up.
"Jesus. You sound like shit," Robin said. "Did you and Eddie get into it?"
"Something like that," Steve said. "I wish I could tell you, but it's not just my place to say."
"I swear to God, I'm willing to risk breaking quarantine. Do I need to come over there?" Robin asked. "Did Eddie do something that requires me to kick his ass? Because as much as I like him, I'll kick his ass if he actually hurt you."
"Eddie didn't do anything wrong. I think I just realized something is all," Steve said and paused. "I kind of wished we were on the floor of the bathroom for this. . .Do you think that it's possible to like girls and also like guys?"
"Oh, dingus," Robin said softly, her voice full of love. "Anything is possible. Especially that. So, you don't actually hate Eddie?"
"Turns out. . . Not so much. . .not at all, actually. I don't think I ever hated him," Steve admitted. "What do I do?"
"I don't know. What do you want to do? Do you want to do something about it, or do you want to fill out the rest of your life full of regrets? You told me to go for Vickie, and you were right. Sometimes, things do work out for the best," Robin said.
"I want to do something about it," Steve said.
"Go get your man, Steve," Robin said with a grin.
Of course, actually doing something about it was harder than he thought. Steve had chickened out a couple of times. His house made it easy for them to avoid each other, and when they did come together, it was completely awkward silence. They didn't even fight over the remote anymore. Steve missed the sound of his voice even more now. What was it going to be like when the quarantine was over? Nothing happened until Steve woke up from a nightmare, went downstairs, and broke down crying in the kitchen. The kitchen light flickered on.
"Steve?" Eddie asked, and Steve jumped.
"I'm fine," Steve sniffled.
"You don't sound fine, man," Eddie said. "Nightmare?"
As soon as Eddie touched his shoulder, Steve burst into tears again and hugged Eddie around the waist.
"You were dead. You were dead and I was alone in this house again," Steve sobbed.
"Oh, sweetheart," Eddie said, running his hand through his hair. "You've got me no matter what. I'm here."
"Would you still be here if I told you that I'm starting to fall in love with you?" Steve asked and pulled back, his hands on Eddie's hips.
"Even more so, big boy," Eddie said, cupping his face.
He stepped in between Steve’s legs and leaned down to kiss him, falling into Steve’s lap. The kiss was short and sweet. . .getting its point across perfectly.
"I'm starting to fall for you too."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
"You want to come to bed with me? Keep the nightmares away?" Steve asked.
"Absolutely."
Eddie took his hand, and together, they walked upstairs. When the quarantine finally ended, Robin was the first one through the door. Steve was at the stove, making breakfast.
"Please, tell me you settled things with Eddie," Robin said.
"Nope! Still hate the guy! Thought for a moment that there was something else, but I was wrong! The man is just so goddamn annoying - " Steve ranted.
"Steve! Are you fucking serious?" Robin asked.
Suddenly, Eddie pounced into the room wearing Steve’s yellow sweater and one sock.
"No, but he is fucking me. We worked things out, Robbie," Eddie said, kissing Steve.
Steve giggled against Eddie's lips as Robin yelled in frustration.
"Assholes!" Robin exclaimed and plopped down at the island. "So, tell me everything."
"Hm, everything? You want all the gory details of Steve railing me so hard into his mattress that he nearly breaks his back?" Eddie asked.
"Eddie, don't scar my best friend!"
"What can I tell her? Oooh! He likes holding hands during sex," Eddie said.
"Aww."
"Eddie!"
Steve rolled his before smiling fondly and kissing Eddie.
"Aww, what happened to your grandma's cup, Steve?" Robin asked.
"Don't worry about it, Robin, it's all fixed now. . ."
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what-even-is-thiss · 1 year ago
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As a writer and as a person I’m not great at uncritically romanticizing things. However, I do tend to be more optimistic than I look.
My optimism though is more… I dunno. Compulsory? Like I’ve decided I’m gonna be a writer despite the fact that it’s nearly impossible to make a living doing that. Why? Well, someone out there has to create entertainment and new literature. And if I feel called to do that I might as well just do it even if the odds are against me.
I assume that peoples intentions are good until proven otherwise because what’s the alternative? Living my life in a little shell? Distrusting everyone forever? I’m not interested in that.
Like someone around here has to have hope for the future, goddamnit. And you can’t always assume that someone else is gonna do that for you. So I’ll follow my dreams and hope for the future even if it kills me. I’m gonna roll up my sleeves and take life one step at a time because if I fall into despair and apathy then The Man wins and I’m not about to let that happen.
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insertdisc5 · 2 years ago
Note
The tumblr q&a is over, but I was curious! I love all the different phrases the characters in isat/sasasa:p use--If it's something you can say, where did inspiration for "gems alive" and other phrases come from?
THANK YOU FOR ASKING BECAUSE I GET TO TALK ABOUT WORLDBUILDING AND SWEAR WORDS AND BRANDON SANDERSON
long post ahead
ok so when I was figuring out the world, I found this lecture on worldbuilding by Brandon Sanderson (go watch it, and also go read his books), and (im gonna paraphrase heavily here) one thing he mentioned is that, to make a memorable world, one thing you can do is pick a couple areas of culture, and go real deep with it. So like, pick fashion, and architecture, and interior design, and develop those a bunch, and bam! you convinced people you have a whole dang world, even though you only developed 3 areas of this world. hollow iceberg everyone thinks is a real iceberg.
he also mentioned the idea of like... getting weird with it? and develop based on a weird detail? for example, in his book The Stormlight Archives, one detail is that women have to hide their left hand at all times. ok, so what does that mean, whats taboo about a left hand? is the left hand shameful, or lewd somehow, the same way ankles were for us? what about fashion, what does women's fashion look like? and how do you live your every day life, knowing you can't show this hand, can you carry things the same way? etc
SO, for me, one of the Big Worldbuilding pillars i picked was, uh, swear words lol. or language and common expressions, more generally. i went on a whole journey where i was like... ok swear words in a LOT of languages (including french and english, both languages i speak fluently) are either sexual, or about gross bodily discharges. you know what words i mean!!!!!
and, well, i also didnt want the game to be full of those words, mostly because i think its a tightrope to use those words without seeming cringe, and also because i have a Core Memory of showing a comic to a colleague and she said "well i wouldve liked to show it to my kids, but you said fuck 12 times in there" and i didnt show my face to her for a week. family friendly family friendly family friendly
so what swear words should my characters use, that arent the same ones we use? and could those swear words actually tell us something about the world they live in? could i actually use those swear words... to show the characters come from different cultures???
and what COULD swear words be like, if theyre not about sex or body stuff? well irl they're usually about religions or belief. "oh god", "goddamnit", etc. as a sidenote, stuff like "oh my god" or "geez" arent used, because jesus christ is not canon to the ISAT universe. alright
i decided very early on i wouldnt have those in the game either, but i COULD have them be about the religions specific to this world. and for insults, i could have them be about stuff those beliefs would see as lesser.
anyway instead of talking about "gems alive" lets talk about "crab"
isabeau+mirabelle+bonnie use "crab" as a swear word because they follow a religion all around change, bettering yourself, evolving, and, the crab meme,
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for those who dont get the joke, its about carcinisation, and about how a bunch of non-crab-like forms somehow evolved to a crab-like form. which would be horrible, for a religion all based around change!!! you mean we change and evolve, but theres a chance we might all become crabs??? CRAB!!!!!!!
anyway having "crab" kinda reads as 1. swear word 2. thats funny and weird (sets the tone) 3. tells you they know what crabs are (world not that different from ours, AND means they live close-ish to the coast, aka not land locked) and 4. crabs are somehow hated/feared, even if as the player you dont get why, it shows this country has its own culture (even if you dont get the crabs joke, which uuuh apparently doesnt work as well in countries that dont have this specific meme. WHATEVER!!!!)
(a few people came to me saying "heh, i get it, because crab and crap are very similar words" and um actually i did not think about that. crab is just a funny word on its own, and also i am a comedy genius without even trying)
anyway tldr: swear words as a worldbuilding tool. soon in theaters
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darnell-la · 1 year ago
Note
Hey! So I got a sad one. So basically you went to the beach with Jj and you were on the sand and these group of girls came up to you saying stuff abt you body and calling you fat. So y/n went home. With out telling jj. When she got home she started crying a lot but Jj went to check on her. And comfort her.
Hey!! We're sorry if this story wasn't exactly what you were looking for. If you're disappointed, please send another request and explain in detail? Other than that, thank you for your request, Luv <3
word count: 2.2k
paring: JJ Maybank x Chubby!Reader
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Y/n's pov
"You'll be fine, y/n, okay? It's just a party with a bunch of drunk teenagers. Nothings gonna happen. Besides, Topper and Rafe aren't here," JJ said as he and I walked on the property of this girl who invited him.
"I know, it's just, they didn't invite me and I know how these people get. Especially the Kook girls to Pogue girls," I said as he stopped in front of me.
"As long as I'm around you, I won't let them say shit to you, okay? We're best friends. I wouldn't let that slide," he said, placing a smile on my face.
"Okay, fine. But only for a couple of hours," I said as he rolled his eyes with a sigh. "No, no, we have to stay longer," he said. "Please," he kept repeating until I finally gave in. "Fine! Fine! Goddamnit," I said making him jump.
"Let's go!" He celebrated as he pulled me towards the front of the house. This place is packed and we're only outside. I can already see a few people eying us because we're probably the only Pogues here. JJ's use to ignoring people but I'm still not.
As I and JJ walked through the crowded house, I could hear people talking about us. They probably wouldn't have noticed me if I came alone but because JJ's so known, making us easy to spot.
"Hey! JJ, right?" A girl asked as she made her way towards us. "Yeah! Hey, Claire," JJ said, trying to put on his flirting voice. I came here to back him up, just in case he feels some way if she drops him last second. And he also wanted me to come and get out of my house for once.
"And you are?" The girl asked me. I could tell she wasn't happy with me being here, by the slight change in her tone and facial expression.
"Scotlyn," I said. "My best friend," JJ added as he pulled me into his side by my waist. I wish he would feel a spark when he touches me like this.
"Mhm, well, is it fine if I steal him from you real quick?" Claire asked as she pulled JJ away from me and wrapped her arm around his. Now they're locked and he has a smile on his face. At least he can be happy.
“No, no, it’s fine,” and quickly after, Claire pulled JJ away from me before he could say something. Tonight’s gonna be a long night. I should at least make it fun.
After being at this party for about an hour, playing drinking games, and watching sports on the TV with some random dudes in the middle of the living room, I decided to take a walk on the beach which isn’t far from the house. It’s basically their backyard. 
I stopped at a beach chair and placed my bag that I always carry with me, before looking around to make sure I’m the only one out here. 
I sighed and began to take off my clothes. I put my bikini on before I left, hoping JJ would want to show me some tricks in the waves like usual but he was occupied. 
After getting my last piece of clothing off, I began to touch my body. This is my first time in a bikini in public. It feels different. 
“We’ll look at Scotlyn. Coming out of her comfort zone I see. What made you buy that Bikini? Cause I know it’s not for my best friend’s man. Or is it?” A girl I do not know asked. 
“Who’s man? Who even are you?” I asked her. “We’re Claire’s friend and she sent us here to make sure you weren’t setting up some picnic after she got into JJ’s pants,” she said, making my eyes widen. 
JJ Maybank is no stranger to the sex life but he also doesn’t like being used and by the way that sentence sounds, getting in his pants is a term he wouldn’t like. 
“Where is he?” I asked as I went to pass them but one of the girls pushed me back. “Probably doing what Claire wants. Why does it matter? You like him or something?” The first girl asked as she laughed and pushed me to the sandy ground. 
“No! He’s- He’s just my best friend and your tramp bestie isn’t going to ruin him!” I yelled as I got up. I went to run past them but another one grabbed my hair and pushed me to the sandy ground again. 
“Oh, save that shit. He’d rather be broken than see that walk in on him,” one of them said, reminding me that I was in my bikini. I know I’m a bit thick but I have a good shape. Well, that’s what JJ says. 
“By the time you get up, you wouldn’t have the energy to run to him, yet walk,” another one said, causing my eyes to tear up. “Don’t cry, we’re just telling you the truth. Not being mean or anything,” the first one laughed. 
I quickly got up and took off, leaving everything behind. Even JJ. He’ll be fine. He’s probably having more fun than he’s ever had with me and I don’t want to ruin it for him. I need to move on…
JJ Maybank’s pov
“Claire, I’m not really in the mood tonight,” I lied as she tried rubbing all over my body. She’s been giving me the ick ever since she came up to me and y/n earlier. 
I thought that maybe if I hung out with her for a little bit, she’d be different or I’d understand her more but it actually has gotten worse and all I want to be around is y/n. 
Maybe I should just ask her out since she’s the only girl I ever feel comfortable and happy around. Everyone else is off. Way off and I never feel that feeling when I’m with y/n. Ever. 
“What are you talking about,” Claire asked in a tone I haven’t heard tonight. “I just really need to get back to y/n and-“ I tried apologizing but she cut me off. 
“Are you serious!? With that fat bitch!?” She angrily said, causing me to push her off of me and stand up from her bed. “Woah, don’t say that shit about her,” I got defensive. 
“Why? It’s true! Why would you choose her over me? That makes no sense at all,” she said, making me shake my head with a disgusting look on my face. These’s Kooks are all the same. 
“Delete my number,” I said then walked out of her room. She yelled a last “Already done!” before I slammed her room door, hoping her handle or anything would break. 
I searched the whole party to find y/n but she’s not here. I quickly ran out to the backyard and down the beach, but she was not there either. 
I ran across a beach chair with a bag on it and clothes. They belong to y/n. Shit. I yelled as I made my way into the water with all my clothes and shoes on. 
What if she went for a swim and drowned or got taken out by the waves. I know for a fact that she can’t swim in waves. She’s not experienced enough. Fuck!!
I swam around for a while until I got tired and cried my way out of the beach. My tears began streaming down my face as I yelled her name. Why did I leave her? 
“Chill out. She ran home,” some girl said. I looked up to see a girl and a few of her friends behind her. They look familiar. “How was the time with Claire?” One asked. They’re her friends. 
“Where did she run?” I asked, ignoring her question. “I don’t know. Home,” one laughed. “Why would she run home?” I asked, confused as they laughed. 
“We explained and told her the truth about you now wanting her. Maybe if she lost a bit of, you know, fat, she’d maybe have a chance,” a girl said. 
That’s when my eyes widen, knowing they bullied her into running away. They used my name, to make it seem like she’s not my best friend and that I care about that shit. I don’t. I’m in love with her and the way she looks. 
I quickly ran to y/n’s bag and threw her close into her bag before talking off towards my car so I can run to her house and tell her that all of this was a big miss understanding and that I don’t care about how she looked. She looks beautiful to me. 
“Y/n!” I yelled through y/n’s small house, hoping she’d be here. I can’t leave her alone in times like this. I’ve never seen her emotional but if she ran all the way home, she’s definitely feeling some type of way about those girls comments. 
“Y/n, where are you? Just talk to me,” I said and finally opened her guest room to find her curled up on the bed. “Y/n…” I said as I walked through the door frame slowly. 
That’s when she shot her head up quickly, allowing me to see her red and glossy eyes. She tried covering herself up as she asked what I was doing here at her house. 
“Your bag,” I said as I placed her bag on the floor and made my way over to the side of the bed. “Oh, okay. Well, uh, thank you. See you tomorrow,” she tried covering her face by turning to the side but I softly grabbed her wrist and turned her back towards me. 
“What did they say to you, y/n?” I asked. “Who?” She asked, knowing exactly who. “You know who, y/n. Tell me everything they said and I’ll handle it. You know I will,” I said, making her shake her head. 
“Oh, the girls? Oh, yeah, they didn’t say anything. Yeah, they just- I just forgot my bag, that’s all,” she lied to me as she sniffed and wiped some tears but they keep coming back. 
“Y/n, don’t lie to me! I’m not fucking around. What did they say!?” I asked with a louder tone, getting angry at anything they could have said to her. I know how people treat her and it’s not nice at all. She doesn’t deserve that. 
Y/n looked me in my eyes then turned back around and began to cry after curling up. Fuck, I didn’t mean to make her cry. 
“No, no, no, y/n, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound so rude, I just- Baby, I just wanted to know,” I said but she kept crying. I ran my hands through my hair, stressed. 
“Shit,” I said as quickly took my clothes off, as well as my boots, and ran to her drawer. I keep spare clothes heard since I’m always over. Day and night. 
I change into the clothes then crawled onto her bed and pulled her into my chest. She let me in by pulling me into her and crying into my chest as I rest my head on her forehead and whispered to her. 
“It’s okay, baby. I’m here. Don’t let whatever they said, get to you. It’s not true. No matter what they said, it’s not true,” I tried talking her down. 
“A-Am I’m pretty to you?” She stuttered as she tried to control her crying. “What? Yes! Yes, of course, you are. I swear I’m not saying that because you’re my best friend,” I said hoping she’s believing. 
“But I’m your friend, so, of course, I’m pretty to you,” she cried again. “Y/n, even passed friendship, you’re beyond pretty to me. You’re beautiful. Gorgeous. You’re just so much,” I said. 
“I’ve had the biggest crush on you. Shit, I still do, it’s just, we’re best friends and I can’t ruin that, you know?” I said, nothing about what I just confessed to. Shit. 
“Y-You have a crush on me?” She asked. “No, nah! Well- Fuck, yes, I do. I really do,” I said, not able to control myself. I had to get it out. I can’t keep things like this in anymore. I can’t hide it. It’s so hard. 
“Oh, I didn’t know that,” she said as she looked up at me. “Yeah, I tried keeping it a secret but- Y/n, you’re so fucking perfect. I can’t keep shit like that from you. You need to know this stuff. You need to know how beautiful you are,” I said, making her eyes brighten up. I can see her blushing. 
“Okay,” she giggled low as she buried her face into my chest again but this time, she’s not crying. “Yeah, I love you,” I awkwardly said with a slight laugh. 
“I love you too,” she said back, making me smile hard. It’s not hard to see that she does. I should have said this earlier in life, but at least she knows now. 
At least she’ll know how much I adore her when I talk to her about us tomorrow because there’s no way I’m leaving this house without me being able to call her mine. 
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lambtotheslaughterr · 2 months ago
Text
The Taming : Part Seven
A Clark Kent Mini Series
[THIS STORY WILL CONTAIN THEMES OF NON-CON/DUB-CON, MENTAL-EMOTIONAL-PHYSICAL ABUSE, ETC. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. 18+. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT]
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WC: 4.7k
Dividers provided by @firefly-graphics
PART SIX | MASTERLIST | PART EIGHT
all AI images are created from prompts i wrote. they are not real images.
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            There was potential to kill her.
            No brat before had ever motivated the desire to strangle the life from her. But she brought that out in me.
            I didn’t know how to feel about it. And that angered me more than anything.
            She was smart, much to my displeasure. But even I had to admit at some point that her undying defiance was beginning to do something to me.
            All I craved was for her to fall to her knees. Willingly. Broken.
            It was me she was attempting to break. And Goddamnit, for the first time in my life, I felt myself wanting to adhere to her. Not the other way around.
            She would not go down until I did.
            Our game was tumultuous. Fun & exciting, nonetheless, but tumultuous all the same.
            It was a race to see who would fall first.
            And I would be damned to hell if I let her win.
            She may think she is beginning to gain the upper hand but she has yet to see what violence I’m truly capable of. But she will.
            Tonight is the night.
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            Clark’s building was closer to the center of Metropolis. From the ground level looking up, the building was tall & narrow but covered in greenery. It looked overbearing, but in a pretty way. It reminded you of yourself.
            What you looked most forward to was the inside. His home. His privacy. He brought you here. You would be in the lion’s den & your insides felt electrified.
            The first things you saw when he guided you inside his unit was the kitchen. Off the kitchen was the living room. Just from standing in the entryway, you knew that you could stand anywhere in the apartment & have a mesmerizing view of the city.
            You still didn’t know what Clark did for a living but you didn’t care. Whatever he did, he made a lot of money & lavished his surroundings in it. You felt almost right at home.
            Once the two of you were securely locked inside Clark’s apartment, he dropped your bags on the floor before taking you by the wrist & leading you down a hallway. Your thighs quivered with where he was taking you. You knew before he even opened the door.
            On the other side was his bedroom, with yet again, another breathtaking view of the city. It unnerved you with how similar he & you were.
            The views from both of your apartments was to die for. But that isn’t why you picked the place. And you knew full well in your heart that that is not why he picked this place. You both enjoyed being above the rest. Looking down on those below you in both status & livelihood. You were gods among mortals. No one could touch you but they’d beg on their knees to be just like you.
            From there forth, Clark got to work. And indeed it was work.
            You knew what he wanted from you. Your obedience. Your acceptance of his control. But to give him either would go against your very being.
            Before you, Clark had it easy. From the sounds of it, the women he was in contract with before were too willing to do as he says & bids. But not you. That would be laughable.
            You weren’t like the others, he knew as such. And every day you took great pleasure in how your never-ending defiance caused him internal turmoil. It made your heart skip a beat more than when he would tie you up or chase you through the dark.
            It was a constant game of cat & mouse. But who was the cat, & who was the mouse? You knew the answer. Clark had yet to agree.
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            It was your seventh morning waking up in Clark’s bed. You had been at his apartment for a week.
            He took your phone & nearly all of your belongings.
            He attempted to begin a routine with you over the past week, but you wouldn’t have it. Taking every possible opportunity to defy him.
            On your second night with him, he explained to you the details of the transactional relationship he was looking for.
            You were a brat. He was your tamer.
            But Clark could be quite bratty himself when he didn’t get his way. And it brought a devilish smile to your face every time you defied him.
            His goal was to break you. Your disobedience was encouraged but only in small portions. But Clark didn’t know you, not nearly well enough if he ever thought you’d do as he says ever, even once.
            After waking that seventh morning, you stretched your sore limbs. There were bruises & marks all along your legs, thighs, waist, stomach, chest, neck, arms. Everywhere. Clark’s mark riddled your body. But you never frowned at them.
            It became comforting. You would get out of bed naked & enter his ensuite bathroom. In there, you would stare at your abused body. Teeth marks, handprints, popped & bloodied skin.
            You had never looked more beautiful.
            You would run your hands along every single mark & savor in the tender, numbing pain. Clark revealed to you your darkest desires. But you would never indulge in giving him his.
            The contract had yet to be signed. And other than when he assaulted you in your own bedroom, he had never fucked you.
            He wanted to. Badly. But he was holding back, staying true to his word about needing your signed agreement for him to go forth. But you wouldn’t bend. If he wanted to hurt you more, harder, he would do it. And you would push him to do it. Contract be damned.
            You would not be just another brat. You would be the one. The end of his string of women to tame. It was his turn to be tamed & put under the heel of your stiletto.
            After admiring your body for a moment longer, you took a quick shower & dried off before re-entering his bedroom.
            In the short time it took you in the bathroom, Clark had come & gone from his bedroom, having left you your outfit for the day on his bed.
            This had become routine. You would wake & shower & then discover whatever it was that he wanted you to wear for him.
            On that, you would allow him to have control. After all, he had decent taste.
            So, you got dressed & applied little make-up before slipping into the heels he provided before leaving his room.
            You found him in the kitchen. He wore a pair of black slacks & an unbuttoned white dress shirt. His back was to you as he focused on a coffee pot before him.
            “I ordered groceries for you to make breakfast.” He announced without looking over his shoulder at you.
            You rolled your eyes at that.
            “That’s what chef’s are for.” You returned.
            Clark said nothing but you saw as his shoulder & back muscles tensed at your response.
            You stepped forward & sat on a stool for the island.
            You bit your lip to keep from smiling too wide. Though he was not facing you, he always seemed to sense when you were laughing at him.
            “I’m not in the mood for your defiance this morning.”
            You chuckled airily, rest your chin on your palm, “My defiance makes you hard.”
            Clark slammed the coffee pot down before turning to face you. It was obvious he was not in a good mood. But you simply didn’t care. He brought you here with these intentions. It was a consequence of his own actions.
            “It makes me want to wring your fucking neck.”
            You leaned back on the stool, pushing your hair behind your shoulders. You modeled your neck.
            “What are you waiting for?”
            His eyes fell to your neck, rage & lust burning hot. Then his eyes flashed to your own.
            “Make something. Before I get really angry.” With that, he harshly grabbed a mug of coffee before stomping back towards his bedroom.
            You sighed. What the fuck did he expect you to make? A gourmet breakfast?
            You weren’t brought here to be his housemaid. You were brought here to be shown a deviously good time. But Clark was beginning to lose control. All you needed was to push him over the edge. Again. Hitting him with a wine bottle wouldn’t work a second time. You’d have to get creative.
            Hopping off the stool, you circled to the other side of the kitchen & pulled out a package of bread before taking two slices & popping them in the toaster.
            He asked for breakfast, you told yourself as you watched the toaster light up, he didn’t say what kind.
            Once the two slices popped up, you quickly plated them before cutting them diagonally & placing a thin layer of butter on them. Tossing the knife in the sink, you snatched the plate & began marching towards the bedroom. It took you a moment to spot Clark when you first entered, but you quickly noticed his dark head of hair on the other side of the windows. Stepping out onto the balcony, you moved towards the small table Clark sat at before none-so-gently placing the plate of toast before him.
            “Breakfast is served.” You announced with a feline smile.
            His eyes stared at the toast, the mug of coffee in his hands nearly to his lips. Then his eyes met your own.
            “What?” You questioned, raising your brows in challenge.
            Clark lowered the mug, saying nothing.
            In an attempt to hide another coy smile, you spun around on your heel & began practically skipping towards the door, “If there’s nothing else…”
            You had barely made it an inch for the threshold when you felt a harsh grip snatch you by the back of your neck.
            A shocked wince parted your lips as Clark dragged you back outside & next thing you knew, your spine was slammed into the railing of the balcony.
            “What—” But the words were choked from you as Clark caught your throat & used his incredible strength & size to bend you backwards over the railing. It was only your upper back over it, the tips of your toes still barely touching the ground, but you still clung to him, nonetheless.
            “Don’t speak.” Clark hissed, “Another word out of you & I’ll throw your fucking body over this balcony.”
            You could feel your heart racing in fear, but there was still mild desire burning.
            “When I tell you to make breakfast, you fucking make it.” His eyes glared into your own, “When I tell you to sign the fucking contract, you will sign it.”
            You attempted to kick your legs out, to catch him off guard, but as you did, what little grounding you had slipped & Clark lifted you entirely with one arm under your knees as he pushed you further backwards.
            “Clark!” You tried to screech but air quite literally escaped. Tears filled your vision as your eyes fearfully glanced to your side & spotted the ground below you, a whole 14 floors.
            In a flash, you pictured your body zooming towards the pavement & splattering for all the morning commuters to see. Though deep down you knew Clark would never indicate himself in a murder so easily, you didn’t want to push him to find out.
            “Okay…” You forced yourself to wheeze.
            “Okay.” Clark tightened his grip on your throat once more in warning before finally relieving you.
            Air rushed into your lungs & you coughed as he returned you to an upright position, but it didn’t end there. He still kept you trapped against the railing with his body, his arms on either side of you.
            “Do we have an understanding?”
            You said nothing as you caught your breath. But even as you did, you still glanced up at him. You knew he wouldn’t like what he saw behind your eyes but out of fear of him scaring you to death for a second time, you simply nodded.
            “Now…” Clark took a step back, gesturing to the door, “Try again.”
            Throwing him a sneer, you snatched the plate of toast off the table & flung the pieces over the balcony before stomping back inside.
            The breakfast you made would be quick & easy but enough. At least, it had better be. You nearly burnt the bacon but managed to save a few unburnt pieces for Clark before making a few fried eggs. Then you found some fruit in the fridge & made a refreshing smoothie, hopefully it would calm his anger. Once you were almost done plating his breakfast, the oven dinged & you yanked out a tray of croissants.
            It wasn’t gourmet by any means, but it was better than the goddamn toast.
            Grabbing the plate of food & smoothie, you returned to the balcony where Clark sat, his mug of coffee nearly finished.
            You gently placed the breakfast down before him before clasping your hands together in front of you, awaiting his reaction.
            As Clark eyed your work, he mustered up a satisfied smile.
            “Better.” He added. Then he took a bite of bacon.
            You watched with ire as he sampled a bit of everything you had made.
            Then, to your displeasure, Clark stood & gently grabbed you by the chin, “I’ve gotta run.”
            Clark surpassed you then & you stared wide-eyed at the uneaten food before you. A rage burned within you as you watched him disappear into the bathroom through the windows.
            “Fucking asshole…” You muttered before fiercely grabbing the plate & yet again, tossing the remnants over the balcony.
            As Clark got ready for his day, you returned to the kitchen & angrily cleaned. You weren’t his fucking housemaid, but he wouldn’t fuck you unless you did as he bid. You knew that was the whole point of the brat/tamer relationship but you were supposed to be defiant. He was only angry that you had yet to sign the contract.
            A very small part of you then, in that moment, argued that you should just sign it. Get it over with. Then the real fun could start.
            But as quickly as the thoughts came, you shook them away.
            You had just finished putting the dishes in the dishwasher when Clark emerged from his bedroom. He was dressed in a pair of jeans & a fitting navy blue-t.
            You made it a point to ignore him as you started the dishwasher, keeping your eyes low.
            He rounded to your side of the kitchen & watched as you put seasoning & oils back where they belonged.
            “I shouldn’t be gone long.” He shared, to which you grunted in response.
            “_____.” He said your name in an authoritative manner.
            You stopped what you were doing & turned to face him as stone-faced as possible.
            “Are you upset, little one?”
            Little one? You scoffed internally, how demeaning.
            You stiffly shook your head, “Nope.”
            The corner of his mouth lifted in a small, amused smile, “Have something you want to say?”
            “Depends.” You began, “Gonna shove my head in the oven & threaten to turn it on?”
            He eyed you playfully, “Perhaps.”
            “Then no.” You made to move past him but he caught you by your elbow, pulling you to stand directly before him.
            “Be good.” He tucked a finger under your chin to meet your eyes, “Or else.”
            “Whatever you say…”
            You heard a deep, pleased growl emanate from his thick chest.
            Clark dropped your chin before making way towards the front door. As he swung the door open, he paused to press some buttons on the security system on the wall near the door.
            “System armed.” A female robotic voice sounded.
            You rolled your eyes at his show of power.
            He winked at you once then closed the door behind him.
            You stood there for some time, your arms crossed over your chest. So far, he had rarely left you alone in his apartment, & when he did, it was only to run down to the lobby to check his mail. But Clark hadn’t confirmed that’s what he was doing.
            This time it was different. You knew he would be gone for longer.
            A devious idea came to you then. You had never had proper time to snoop around. This may have been your only shot at doing so.
            Leaving the kitchen, you made way for his bedroom.
            The first place you checked was the dresser. You sifted through all of his clothing, hoping to find anything. You didn’t know what you were looking for, but you wanted something, anything that you could use to bother him. He would learn to not leave you alone again less he wanted his entire private life exposed.
            When the dresser proved to produce nothing, you moved to the nightstand on his side of the bed. There was only a few magazine journals. You turned those upside down as you continued looking. But as one of the magazines flipped to the floor, a small item slipped out from between the pages.
            You eyed the small white card as it lied face down. Falling to your knees, you snatched it up & turned it over.
Clark Kent
Journalist
Daily Planet Newspaper
            Then he had his email & phone number.
            He was a journalist?
            Raising your head, you glanced around the bedroom. Every journalist had a computer, it was a given. But as you reflected on your short stay there thus far, you hadn’t recalled ever seeing one.
            Replacing the magazines in their original spot, the card tucked safely inside, you left the bedroom & crossed the apartment to the kitchen. There had been a door off the kitchen that you never entered. You assumed it was where the water boiler would be. But perhaps…
            The door didn’t budge when you tried the knob, only adding to your suspicion that the door led to something else entirely. But unfortunately for Clark, that wouldn’t stop you. Scouring through the drawers in his kitchen, you found a few bobby pins & fashioned them to elongate.
            Returning to the door, you got on your knees & began to stick the two unbent pins into the lock. It wasn’t your first rodeo. When you lived with your parents, after their scandal, you were sick & tired of them keeping you in the dark, so you taught yourself how to pick locks so you could raid their office’s. Hearing the locking mechanism catch on the pins was music to your ears & brought you back to your teenagehood.
            The final mechanism caught & you heard the lock unlatch.
            Smirking to yourself, you turned the handle & the door cracked open. You pushed the door open & stepped inside. His office was as fitting of him as the rest of his apartment. But you didn’t take time to admire the space or yet again, another stunning view of Metropolis.
            There, on the desk, was a laptop. It was open but the screen was dark. You seated yourself in the desk chair & ran your fingers over the pad. The screen lit up.
            Password.
            “Of fucking course…” You breathed out. You may have learned to pick locks but finding out a password was much more difficult. Your parents had been predictable, using the date’s of their children’s birthday’s or their wedding anniversary. But you had a feeling Clark wouldn’t be so simple. And even if he had been, you knew absolutely nothing about him to even attempt trying.
            But out of frustration, you typed in ‘asshole’ then pressed enter.
            Try again.
            Sighing, you leaned back in the chair, glaring at the laptop. It would be pointless to keep trying.
            However, it was then that you were reminded that you were in his office, his locked office. People only lock things when they have something to hide.
            “There’s gotta be something else…” You uttered to no one. Spinning around in the chair, you eyed the rest of the room.
            On the opposite wall was a built in bookcase. And to the right of that was another, smaller dresser. You felt your eyebrows raise.
            Standing up, you closed the distance to the dresser & tugged on the top drawer. Yet again, it didn’t budge.
            “Tch, tch, tch, Clark…” You smirked, “There’s still much to learn about me.”
            You took the pins that were still sticking out from the handle & brought them to the dresser. This lock was easier to pick, only needing to catch one mechanism before it unlatched & you pulled the drawer open.
            And what you found was treasure.
            There were folders with women’s names on them.
            “The others…” You gathered as many as you could in your arms & fell to your butt, spreading them out around you.
            You flipped through many of them, recognizing a few of the faces as other women in the upper-class party scene, but none really stuck out otherwise. That was until you recognized the name of one who you knew quite well.
            “Jane…” You flipped it open & began reading. Everything that was anything to know about her was in the file. Even pictures of her. The last picture in the file you recognized from the night of your birthday. It was taken outside Club 22.
            It dawned on you then. Clark hadn’t spotted you by coincidence. He was there for Jane. But he found you instead.
            This new information angered you. Why the hell would he want Jane? She was Plain Jane for a reason, despite her label clothing & platinum card. Jane was boring, vanilla, & easy. Slamming her folder on the ground, you returned to the drawer in search of your folder, but as you scattered everything, there was never one.
            In a fit of anger, you began tearing up the files, the many faces of women, & all their secrets. You didn’t care if Clark walked through the door right now & witnessed it all, caught you red-handed. He should’ve picked you with purpose, not accident. Those women were nothing compared to you. You were fucking _____ _____, for fuck’s sake! And he wanted Jane?!
            Breathing heavily, you stared down at the torn pieces, your chest heaving.
            When he got home, you would announce that it was done. All of it. You would be going home & you would never see him again. And he couldn’t hold you back. You had never signed the contract.
            Blinded by your anger, it took you a moment to hear the pinging of a cellphone. But as you calmed & sat in silence, it soon became louder than the ringing in your ears.
            Following the sound, it forced you to stand up & approach the bookcase. The pinging continued. You lead with your ear as you grew closer to the sound. You frowned when you pulled out a book & it pinged in your hand.
            Opening the book, it was revealed to not be a book at all. The pages were hard like clay & the center of them had been hollowed out to be use a secret chest of some sort. But inside the hollow was your cell phone.
            Gasping, you dropped the book & stared at your phone. On the home screen, you had over 20 missed called & 50 unread texts, along with other random notifications. You quickly unlocked your phone, stepping expertly over the scattered remains of Clark’s possessions & made a home for yourself in his desk chair.
            Olivia had been your most recent missed call. 30 minutes ago.
            You listened to her voicemail.
            Hey, me again. Look, I know you weren’t really happy about what happened when we were at the spa deck but at this point you’re overreacting. We’ve been trying to get a hold of you & you keep ignoring us. Not even answering your door? That’s a new low, _____.
            She sighed then, exasperated.
            But anyway, that’s not why I’m calling for the hundredth time. Nic’s birthday is tonight & you’re expected to be there. So… if you don’t show, then I guess we have some friendships to re-evaluate. Call me. Or don’t. But don’t expect us to come looking for you after tonight. Bye.
            You couldn’t even be salty about her voicemail, after all, Clark had taken your phone & brought you to his apartment with no chance to tell your friends. Not that you would’ve, but you at least wouldn’t have left them hanging & in the dark.
            A smile appeared on your face then. Nicola’s birthday’s were always the party of the year. Anyone who mattered would be there. Yourself included. Whether Clark liked it or not.
            Pulling up Olivia’s contact, you hit the call button. And the line began to ring.
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            You were lounging atop the kitchen island when you heard the lock to the front door begin to unlatch. Then it swung open & Clark appeared. His eyed you momentarily before disarming the system. He had with him a messenger bag, one he hadn’t left with. You narrowed your eyes at it but said nothing.
            As he closed the door behind him, he eyed the length of you, his eyes focusing momentarily on your legs before meeting your own.
            “And what have we been up to today?”
            You shrugged your shoulders but smiled nonetheless, “Wouldn’t you like to know.”
            Clark took a step towards you then halted. You watched as his nonchalance morphed into confusion. Then he turned to his left. You followed his line of sight as he stared at the opened door to his office.
            His eyes darkened as he stared at his exposed office.
            “What did you do?” He questioned.
            You hopped off the island than & joined him where he stood. You kept your arms behind your back as you stared into his office with him. You had trashed it some more: clearing his bookshelves of their many hardbacks, tore down framed accolades for his accomplishments off the walls, & practically turned all of the files he had on his past brats into confetti pieces.
            “Leave a bitch alone long enough & she’ll make a mess of your things.” You cooed.
            He turned on you then, grabbing you by the throat.
            But you were quick to shove him off, “Ah, ah, ah.” You raised a single finger, “You’re not in control anymore.”
            “I’m the only one in control.” He hissed through gritted teeth. And once he made way to approach you a second time, a knock sounded on his door.
            Clark froze where he stood as he eyed you with anger.
            “Now,” you began, forcing yourself to produce tears, “let the show begin.”
            “_____!” Olivia’s voice sounded on the other side followed by more hard knocks.
            “You fucking…” Clark muttered when he realized what you had done.
            Embodying the role of a damsel in distress, you moved towards his door & watched him like a hawk as you swung the door open, revealing Olivia as she stared at you wide-eyed.
            “Oh, my god.” She grabbed you & pulled you into a hug before holding your face in her hands, “Where is that creep?”
            You pushed the door open wider, revealing Clark to your best friend.
            “You fucking asshole!” Liv marched into the apartment, “Don’t you ever touch her again! If you come within even a mile of her we’ll have your ass behind bars before you can even wipe it!”
            “Liv.” You tugged on her arm before she could get closer to him, “Please, let’s just go.”
            She whipped her head back to you but not before facing him once more, “You stay the fuck away, you freak.”
            Clark stood there still & silent, but you could feel the rage rolling off him in waves, like a volcano about to explode.
            Liv grabbed you then, hand in hand, as she led you to the door, “You okay?”
            “I am now.” You shuddered, almost believing yourself that you were a victim here.
            “_____.” Clark’s voice was hard & flat.
            You eyed him over your shoulder.
            “You’ll regret this.”
            “Listen here, asshole—” But Before Liv could continue, you forced the two of you out of the apartment.
            “Enough, Liv, let’s go.”
            Then you grabbed the handle of his door & began to close it, but before it closed all the way, & as Clark stood there watching you with burning fire, you sent him one last parting gift. You winked once then shut the door.
            Clark should’ve known better. You were different, you were special.
            And now he knew.
            The ball was in his court. And he better bring his A-game, because you had never lost a round before.
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part seven! next part is going to be craaaazy. so stay turned!
as always, please share your thoughts w me via dropping a comment, reblogging w reviews, or talking to me in the ask box. love to hear it!
thank you for reading
oona<3
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corvidae-corvus · 1 year ago
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My Spiderman & Batman Fanfic (WIP): Not a prompt just from the fanfic I'm writing. Check Pin
Ideas #1:
So anyways, I started to think rlly hard about the fanfic and I realized that Instead of Peter going to Gotham right after NWH, I decided that he would die by the Inheritors instead.
I thought about this for a couple reasons:
• I needed to age Peter up a bit so it'd be easier for Peter and Jason to be in a relationship. This also helps with the timeline. So I decided that Peter will be 20 when he dies. Jason will also be 20 or 20-22 yrs old. (Still not sure how I want to write his relationship w/ the bat-family)
• I wanted to give him time to be on his own. I like the idea of him having support and a family but I needed to get him alone first. And since his parents will also be resurrected in the DC verse. His loneliness in those 2 years will play a VITAL role in his story. So 2 years will pass since NWH. I wanted him to still be fresh in his grief for May cause angst, but not too fresh because I want complicated feelings lol. And angst.
• I wanted him to be more experienced in crime fighting. I've read fanfic where he's just so unprepared for Gotham's harshness that he's really fucking struggling. And it kinda makes me go eeeeehhhhhhhh. And as much as I love it. (Cause I do, I like the angst) I also wanted to make him competent AND more dangerous. This is a Peter who's lost HIS WHOLE FAMILY!!! And then he gets them back!? Yeah Peter's morals bend so easily for them. And he's not gonna let a city bring him down. He's gonna live and protect his family, no matter what. What I'm trying to say is that Peter's gonna be a bit more overpowered. Not too much obv. And angry. Rlly fucking angry.
• I wanted Jason and Peter to be together in a romantic relationship and so I wanted to age Peter up instead of having him be with Jason when he's still angry with Batman
WAIT- WAIT A FUCKING MINUTE!!! HOLD THE PHONE!!!
I just realized that In my fic Richard Parker and Dick are the same person just different variants of one another. Like they LOOK EXACTLY THE SAME!!! (In my fic that I'm working on)
Like. What age did Richard die!? My head cannon is that he had Peter when he was 25. So he dies at like 30. And Dick is like 5-8 years older than Jason right??? So like Dick is around 25-28 years old during this time!?
Would this make Peter/Jason weird??? I need to know. Should I make like Richard and Dick be only a quarter related??? Or not related at all!? AHHH I DON'T KNOW!? I mean I want Peter/Jason cause it's an easy way to connect Peter to the Bats but also cause I think Peter/Jason would be rlly fucking cute??
BUT I ALSO RLLY WANT RICHARD HAVING THE SAME FACE AS A MULTI BILLIONAIRE TO BE AN OBSTACLE IN RICHARD'S LIFE!! Both as a normal citizen of Gotham and as a Super spy.
AHHHHHHHH!!!!
I CAN ONLY HAVE ONE!?!?
CAUSE LIKE- wouldn't it be weird to date a guy whose biological dad is related to your adopted brother??
GODDAMNIT-
Fuxk- should I just have it that Richard and Dick aren't actually related and Richard just looks like him (doppelganger) so that they can date or that Peter and Jason never date?
Fuxk
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waitmyturtles · 1 year ago
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THE MORNING AFTER: ONLY FRIENDS, EPISODE 4 (“UHHH, IF I FEEL SOMETHING, DOES IT MEAN I HAVE FEELINGS, WOMP?”) EDITION
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That’s how I felt after watching yesterday’s episode. I have NO BUSINESS writing meta in my current life-mental state, but I NEED to get a few words down. Just some list-y thoughts.
Shit’s starting to gel for me. The cast seems like they’ve warmed up to each other by way of actor-ly chemistry. (I know scenes are never shot in order, but there was maybe a little stiffness I felt at the start of the series? At this point, it might just be Lookjun carrying that, but I also don’t think she does “drunk” as well as the others.)
Such good meta that sustained me during my packing yesterday. @ranchthoughts on an ephemerality BREAKDOWN. @respectthepetty Senpai on sluts slutting — and HOW WE AUTOMATICALLY JUDGE AND LABEL SLUTS FOR SLUTTING (more on this in a BIT — go OFF, RTP Senpai). And @slayerkitty on nailing the narrative frameworks, which really struck me this episode, and this goes back to ephemerality again. Can’t believe I’m gonna meta, but let’s boogie, ‘cause I gotta.
@ranchthoughts — Ranch, I’m probably going to repeat some of what you wrote, so please forgive my stress-addled brain. I just lost it at Khaotung this episode, I thought he was just OVERFLOWING with BEST-NESS this episode — and the way we lived with Ray in his past in this episode. It was another play on time. And I love that @slayerkitty nailed that it was the flashbacks that were doing the talking this episode — because especially for Ray, the past is doing HIS talking. His mother didn’t love him in his past. Therefore, because of his past, he is unlovable in his present. (Interrrrgenerationalllll traumaaaa — the past affects your present. The opposite of ephemerality. That shit’ll STICK with you UNTIL you decide to face it head-on, like our beloved PatPran.)
Ooooh, baby. Gosh. The combination of the use of flashbacks, with Ray living in his past, only listening to music his parents listened to. And Sand — falling for Ray! — is holding Ray’s hand and bringing him to the present and the new. Sand’s a figure of change. Ray keeps toeing BACK to the past, to his memories, to his “love” for Mew, and Sand’s like, let me hold you down. (Ray going back and forth — like relapsing.) Ray STILL flashing back to Mew, holding that pendant (THAT LOOKS AN AWFUL LIKE AN ECLIPSE SYMBOL, AMIRITE AMIRITE) — and flashes again back and forward to the record store, where Sand found Ray’s hand.
What will Ray need for Sand to do to pull Ray even closer to the real-time present? How will Sand help Ray face his trauma? Will Sand really hold Ray down?
I am a big believer in the ships sinking, but goddamnit, First and Khao ATE this episode. GAAAHHHH.
Just musing: If Jojo and team started out this series having us think on ephemerality, the general lack of accountability, and the disappearance of time — are we entering the next act of the series where the characters grapple with the impacts of their pasts? That if you’re engaged emotionally and/or sexually with others, that not being accountable for your past and present is NOT an option? (That’s a kind of frame that speaks very closely to Jojo’s devotion to messages of sexual health in his past shows — especially regarding Nat in Gay OK Bangkok, who was HIV positive.)
Also musing: I saw some posts on my dash grappling with Top and Ray using coke. Drug use is obviously common on the partying circuit — their using coke doesn’t surprise me, especially considering that Top and Ray were both shown also being familiar with pills earlier. But I will note that the entire SE Asian region prosecutes the drug trade quite harshly, so to be honest, I was surprised to see Top actually snorting (but not surprised that that would be in a Jojo show). (Some passing links: when I Googled “drug use in Thailand,” this study shows that of a sample of vocational students in Thailand, LGBTQ+ students were more likely to use three or more drugs than heterosexual students, plus more findings. And this article briefly reviews the history of drug prosecution in Thailand.)
Also musing: really loved how Top’s demeanor was SO different with Nick and Sand. Maybe this indicates how much he’s “controlling” himself around Mew (@ranchthoughts , beep beep, control). Especially when Nick was talking with Top — it seemed like Top had been approached for money like this before. And the way he was so forward with Sand, confident to tell Sand that Sand wasn’t up for keeping Boeing — that was a totally different Top than who we see with Mew.
Okay, penultimate point. @respectthepetty says: sluts gonna slut. @bengiyo says: dudes gonna dude.
Cheum calls Boston a ho. Top says Boston is nasty. Nick calls himself nasty. Nick is Boston’s “favorite.” Jojo challenges the viewer to think that Top was gonna sleep with Beam, as RTP Senpai writes. Top’s already slept with Boston while dating Mew. On and on and on.
I wrote in my review of Theory of Love that I related to Khai, and now I relate somewhat to Top by the way that some of the viewership has judged Top. I was VERY often called the slut/ho of my friend groups in my younger years. OFTEN. And this was while I was in my twenties, exploring myself, my boundaries, my sexuality, all of it.
I relate to the struggle of trying to shed labels. Ray is a “burden.” Boston is “nasty.” Mew wants the truth from Top as to if Top has been with anyone else while they were dating. Therefore — Mew is assuming that Top IS sleeping with other people.
Call these people by their labels, and they’ll start believing them. It’s just another kind of trauma, similar to intergenerational trauma.
I wrote in my Theory of Love piece that as a global society — humans don’t really believe that our fellow humans can CHANGE. We don’t accept change well. (Cancel culture rarely allows for someone to be uncancelled — right?) If someone takes on a label — we tend to believe that label, and we have a hard time believing that someone has SHED that label after time. If Ray was called a burden by his mother — what work will it take for Ray to shed that label? And same for our sexually active guys, too.
Think about how you talk about your friends to others. Think about if you use labels to talk about them. Think about how old those labels are, and if they’re accurate in the present. And. Think about how you judge others by their pasts. (“Remember when so-and-so was sleeping around?”) Think about whether or not you use the past to judge and/or justify your FEELINGS about someone.
Now, I don’t even KNOW if these guys WANT to change these paradigms. We get the SLIGHTEST hint that maybe Boston wants to do so with Nick in next week’s preview.
But. I just fucking love that Jojo is playing around with this. If someone is HIV positive — that’s a label, a stigma. If someone is a ho — that’s a label, a stigma.
These dudes are burdened by what everyone else is thinking and saying about them.
And we have Sand, on the other hand, processing his feelings with Nick. We have Nick acting like a damn BASKETCASE, but at least he admitted the wiretapping to Sand (??? lol honey but you gotta stop this now, nervous giggles, put Boston’s phone down). We didn’t see Yo in this episode, but we know Yo believes in accountability.
There’s something about the Ray-Mew-Cheum-Boston friend group that allows things to both slide and fester. We’ll get ever more clarity in the following episodes on this, but — these young folks are having ish dealing with their labels, the labels of their pasts, and what are they gonna do in their presents and futures to deal with changing themselves?
FINALLY, and then I’m done rambling. Is that supposed to be a penis, or something penis-like?!
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(What’s good, Ephemerality Squad? Wish me luck with moving today! @slayerkitty @ranchthoughts @lurkingshan @neuroticbookworm @clara-maybe-ontheroad @twig-tea @distant-screaming @chickenstrangers)
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Me chanting "it's a comedy it's a comedy it's a comedy" with a big smile as tears pour down my face, waiting for izzy to just pop back up and be completely fine
because he got his leg chopped off and was completely fine and ed got beaten to a pulp and was completely fine and stede got stabbed and hanged and was completely fine goddamnit
what was the point????
i'd get it if they killed izzy off earlier but now? after he started opening up? after he started forming a family? after he & ed started healing? after he & stede started finding common ground?
if it's to kill off all the parts of blackbeard then why do it after izzy started moving on and finding himself away from blackbeard, why not let him move forward with his new family?
if it's because he'd never be fully over Ed and their weird dynamic means they can never be parted from from each other then i dunno build a room over gentlebeard's garage for him or something, let him walk in and be snarky about their sex life
They also had the chance to be so funny and have Izzy do his whole deathbed confession thing because he thought he was dying only for him to later wake up completely fine and have to live mortified with the knowledge that he was emotionally vulnerable in front of everyone
anyway fanfic writers you're my only hope
tldr: they should have killed izzy before they went out of their way to make me care about him because now i'm suffering
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