#She will feed neighbors or sick friends

[arcanefox207]

The Wolf You Feed (Part 5)

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Word Count: 7.3k

Part 5 / ? (Ongoing) A O 3 | M A S T E R L I S T

Summary: Set in a fictional New England town, you fall for your handsome, intense and outdoorsy neighbor while renting out your parent's vacant summer home during a brutal winter.

Chapter Warnings: ANGST. Smut. POV-Switching. Rated Explicit. 18+ MDNI. See series masterlist for general warnings.

A/N: Hang in there friends. I will ease your pain soon 🧡

The next day you were, for the most part, unconsolable. Marlene let you lay around in her guest bed while you faded in between sleep and numbness. 

The pain was unfamiliar. Hurt because it was so unexpected. Amplified because you were falling so hard for him and thought he felt the same way. Hurt by the immense weight of betrayal and deception that he dumped on you last night. Hurt by the thought that he didn’t want you to know. Hurt because despite the pain you still felt a longing and prayed to just wake from the nightmare like it was all just a bad dream.

The early afternoon sun gave its best attempt to bring some life to you, but you simply rolled away from the window and wrapped yourself up in your warm cocoon. Your phone screen lit up on the nightstand for the umpteenth time and you ignored it.

The apathy you were feeling was weighing you down, paralyzing you from moving from your safe haven. It felt like time wasn’t moving either, and you were just trapped in this moment and helpless to do anything about it.

The 360 your emotions took in the span of 24 hours was unprecedented. It took everything out of you and you can’t stop ruminating on what was and what could have been. Where do you go from here? 

Last night, you don’t remember much of what happened when you left Coppers. You were inconsolable and Marlene felt too responsible for you to let you go home by yourself in your condition. She insisted you get in her car and she brought you to her apartment which was not too far away. 

She didn’t ask you any questions, and you could only assume what she could possibly be thinking about you now. You felt embarrassed and sick to your stomach whenever flashes from the night before popped into your mind. 

How could you have been so stupid?   

A tiny knock on the door caught your attention and Marlene meekly poked her head in. She wandered over to the bed and sat at the edge.

“Come on. I made us lunch and you are going to eat.” She patted your bundled up shoulder and got into your face to glare at you. This request was not optional at this point. You owed her big. She placed a bottle of water on the nightstand and you saw her eye your phone lighting up.

“Fine. Give me a minute?” You didn’t sound very convincing. “I promise.”

Marlene left you some clothes to borrow while you were there. An oversized long sleeve shirt and some sweatpants. Comfortable.

Marlene had lunch fixed for you both and slid over a hot cup of coffee as you approached the kitchen table. 

She was being far too kind to you. On the way home you remember little beyond the haze of being drunk and your breakdown. You remember sobbing and telling her you didn’t want to be alone. She ended up bringing you back to her place in town and babysat you through the night.

You were grateful to have made a friend in her and her kindness was the light guiding you through the turmoil. 

You manage a few bites from your sandwich out of consideration but don’t touch your coffee. The awkward silence is broken after a few moments, you knew the conversation was coming.

“So…” She pauses and then just comes out with it. “You and Joel, huh?” She attempts to drop the topic casually and friendly.

“Not anymore.” You feel your eyes well up again. Tears from anger, sadness and heartbreak. A trifecta of emotions that you don’t recall ever feeling before. Everything about Joel was intense and had been from the moment you met him. 

You realize that since meeting him it had all been mostly bottled up inside you. Except for some vague chatter at work, your life with Joel was mostly a secret. Something you kept private because you were shy about being judged for falling for a man so much older than you.  

You tell her everything. 

“Babe, he isn’t worth the tears.” she said so confidently, like she had so much knowledge about him that you didn’t know. 

“I had no idea about Tess.” The words spill out. “I just assumed it was only me. I would have never… How stupid-”

“Joel is an asshole” she cuts you off. Her tone is getting more heated as she gets frustrated that you are blaming yourself for anything in all of this. “What he did was wrong.” Marlene tried her best to keep her judgements to herself, but she always had been very outspoken. You knew she would be an open book if you would just ask. She seemed to harbor some resentment that was starting to slip out.

“How long have they.. You know. Been together?” you choke on the words.

“As long as I’ve known them.” she catches the way you react and takes a step back to explain. “They used to be close. Really close. Over the years they have grown apart. I think nowadays they just fuck around with each other when they are feeling lonely.” 

Your heart is in your throat and you want to throw up. You go to speak but can’t find the words, only more tears. 

“Sorry. I mean, you should know this.”

She's right, you should know this, and Joel should be the one telling you. You think back to how he was so quick to push you away at the bar and wanted to talk later. You knew something was up and he wasn’t ready for you to find out. Even if you never really defined anything between you both, he led you on. He used you. 

“Tess isn’t a saint either.” She interrupts you as if she can hear your thoughts. “This has been a long time coming. They are both toxic.” 

You wanted to know what she meant by that, but your mind couldn’t get past his wrongdoings. From where you sat last night, it looked like Tess was caught off guard by him too. 

You felt sick to your stomach the moment you realized you were the other woman. Tess didn’t deserve that.  

The tears were flowing again. You drag the back of your hand across your face to quickly wipe them away. 

“You deserve better.” She reassures you.

Do you, though? You wonder. 

You never had the best luck with men. The way Joel made you feel was not something you would be able to replace or move on from easily. He awoke something inside you that you needed to feed. He had a darkness that you were drawn to. A sexual energy that you never sought out before. It was so perfectly hidden behind some neighborly deeds and a tired man’s body.       

“Despite it all, and I know how stupid this sounds. How stupid this is. I still… can’t stop thinking about him.” You confess out loud. 

You were not a stupid person by any stretch, but you were feeling blinded by how he had been making you feel up until last night. Even after you confronted him, before you really learnt what was going on, you still felt like he was doing this for you. He wasn’t acting like the same person, but you could feel the Joel you knew was still there inside him. Like the face he was putting on was for everyone else, but your Joel was waiting in the wings.

When he had you alone by the bathrooms you could feel how much he wanted you. See how much hurt there was in his eyes when you were crying. He told you it wasn’t about you and you really wanted to believe that was true.

When he held your face in his hand and wiped your tears you knew that whatever was going on, his feelings for you were not something to question. He wanted you on a primal level and you wanted him to take what he needed from you. 

You weren’t in a formal relationship with him. You never had that talk with him. You never asked if there was anyone else. These thoughts were creeping in and making you feel stupid and partially responsible. Your conscience was desperately looking for any excuse to help Joel’s case. 

Marlene rolls her eyes. “Joel is nothing but bad news. Look at what he already did to you. Forget him.” 

Easier said than done, you think to yourself. The truth is that up until his performance he had been the first guy in your life that made you feel truly desired. It couldn’t have felt so real if it wasn’t true.

He needed you, but you also needed him.   

“Marlene…” You pause, trepidation in your tone. “I was falling for him. I think I was in l-”

“Stop.” She cuts you off. “You liked his… handsome charm, don’t confuse it for something more.” An annoyance peaks in her voice. 

You had fallen for people before and had relationships based purely on lust and attraction, but this was not it. It was something so unique that you couldn’t even put into words or feelings. A high that he gave you that you had to chase because you needed that next fix so badly. 

“And…” She pauses before cautiously saying more. “He is old enough to be your dad. Come on, this wasn’t going anywhere!” She was trying to make you see the obvious things without sounding too critical. 

You actually liked that he was older. It was so attractive if not a little bit taboo which just made it that much more exciting. He was worn on the edges but he was so confident and capable with everything he did. Not to mention no one had pleasured you like Joel Miller. You were absolutely smitten by everything he gave to you. He made you insatiable for him in every way. 

You brushed off her comments about his age. It was something you loved about him. Something that turned you on that you didn’t feel like defending.

Still, by all counts she was right. You knew the right thing to do would be to move on with your life, without Joel. 

“I’m sure whatever you had was fun, but that is all it was ever going to be.” Her matter of fact way of stating things helped to make the reality hit a little less hard. 

Maybe the reason it felt so good with Joel is because you wanted it to be something more than it was. The pit in your stomach reminds you of its presence and how this whole ordeal makes you feel sick.

There is a long silence between the two of you, and she no doubt can tell how heavy the words are hitting you. She finishes her coffee and clears the table, taking away your hardly touched plate. 

You sit with your thoughts for a moment before joining her at the kitchen sink. You hand her your mostly full coffee mug to pour in the basin.

The elephant in the room is getting too big to ignore.

It didn’t matter how you felt or what you wanted when there was someone else involved.

“What am I going to do now?” You ask her with teary eyes and a meek voice.

“I know Tess pretty well, and she can be scornful. I don’t think she knows about you and Joel, and you should keep it that way.” 

You feel yourself disassociated and want to just disappear. Go back to your Boston life and pretend you never met Joel Miller. Find a new job.  A new place to live and start fresh, again. 

“I like you, and I think you got put in a real shitty situation.” That was an understatement. “I’m not going to say anything to her, ok?” 

You nod, and believe her words.

“You are done with Joel, right?” She looks at you for confirmation. “Right?”

“Yeah. Of course.” You look away from her as you answer and the tears flow again. You weren’t sure if you were lying to her or lying to yourself, but you knew it wasn’t truthful. Whatever path you carved out next would be wrong if it wasn’t leading away from Joel.  

“Then cry as much as you need to now and put this behind you.”

She brings you in for a comforting hug and you sob into her shoulder.   

The worst part of it all is that you still have feelings for him.

—

JOEL POV - The Night Before

As he walked towards the stage to play, he was a wreck inside. Looking calm and composed was just a facade. He was nervous enough to be playing tonight with his carefully thought out song, but now knowing you may very well still be around was tipping him over the edge. There was no turning back at this point and he had to stay the course. He had to get this off his chest and had to wash his hands of Tess. Whatever comes next he would have to take it as it comes. 

The thought of hurting you in any way made him sick. 

Taking his seat he was grateful for the bright lights on him, making the audience look like anonymous shadows. At least in his mind he could pretend it was a room of nobodies. He never was one to have stage fright. He was a talented enough musician and most of the audience was drunk. He didn’t care what they thought anyways.  

He drags his hand along the neck of the guitar, feeling the strings under his calloused fingertips. Taking in a deep breath he adjusts the guitar in his lap. The light reflects off his watch and the shiny, polished wood of his instrument. The stage feels lonely as the room silences with all eyes on him.    

He strums his guitar and flexes his hand to loosen up. There is no turning back now and this is something he has to do. 

“This one’s…. for Tess.” his voice shakes as the words leave his mouth. 

This moment the only thing that mattered was that she heard this. He never was one with words or talking about his feelings, but he always had been able to lean on music when it mattered. It was the only time he truly let himself be vulnerable.  

As he started playing, he blocked out everything around him. His mind was just filled with the memories of Tess. What he loved. What he wanted. What he never got and never will. What he would always mourn but no longer desire. His time with her was over for him. He could feel his heart aching as he sang, but also getting lighter, not realizing how heavy this all was weighing on him for such a long time until he was letting it go.

As the song progressed it felt cathartic. Letting some of his anger slip into his tone and fade out into the ether, taking along his frustrations. Confronting all the feelings he had been holding in for so long. The sadness he felt was mourning, and he knew it would only get better now that he was moving on. He had already been mourning her loss for a long time without truly acknowledging it. Until now.       

Living in the memory

   Of a love that never was

He was feeling bolder and confident that his decision to be done with Tess was the right one. It didn’t erase their history or make her impact on his life any less significant. What they had was special and always would be. It didn’t have to overstay like it was in order to preserve that history. It was time to move on and stop feeding the resentment that was overtaking everything left that was good.

He would always love her for their history and she had to know so that she could move on too before the damage between them was too great. He knew she would understand and accept it; in time. 

Then you crept back into his mind. Finally he was giving himself permission to allow it to, properly. 

You filled in all that empty space that was vacant for just mere moments. Another realization that he wasn’t giving everything to you and how much he wanted to. He had been indulging in your companionship with trepidation. Reluctant to open himself up and fearful that it would be another road to nowhere. 

Afraid you might not want him and his darkness that came along once you really knew him. 

His eyes were finally adjusted to the lights just enough to make out the details in the shadows in front of him. 

He couldn’t help himself to look up and scan the audience, searching for you passively. Deep down, he knew you were still out there. He could sense that unexplainable feeling when someone is watching you intently. It made his heart race as he struggled to fight the distraction and finish his song. 

'Cause I've done everything I know

To try and make you mine

And I think I'm gonna love you

As if by instinct, he zeroed in on you standing towards the back of the room with tears in your eyes. An invisible rope tethering you together against the odds in the sea of shadows. 

When he caught your eyes he had to look away in shame. Disgusted with himself that you were collateral damage in his situationship. He choked on his final words, and they came out low and shaky.  

For a long, long time.

He strummed the last chords of his song and fought back the feeling in his throat that was bubbling up. He felt like he couldn’t breathe and the weight of his actions was crushing him. The silence in the room filled him with dread and it felt like time was standing still, like he was in front of everyone naked with his emotions raw and exposed before them. His chest was tight, bursting with an anxious heart beating rapidly with heavy thuds.  

A conflicting wave of emotions tears through him and it takes everything not to lose his composure. He takes the deepest breath, closes his eyes and it isn’t Tess that comes to mind. 

It’s you. 

With his final strum of the guitar it felt like he was releasing himself from Tess. Free after so long and fighting so hard for their relationship. Free to bring his full attention to where his heart was calling him.

Finally the room erupts in applause and he feels the tiniest pang of relief wash over him and snaps him back to reality. He sneaks off the stage and makes his way towards the back. He needed to hold you and tell you how sorry he was and at this point he didn’t care who saw him.

Familiar faces and acquaintances slapped him on the back and boasted to him about how great he did and the gauntlet of drunken patrons slows him down significantly. When he manages to break away and gets eyes on where you were standing you are nowhere to be found. 

A hand grabs his sleeve and he turns but his heart sinks when it’s Tess.

“Joel..” she whines through a shaky voice and pulls him to look at her.

He didn’t want to be cruel to her or disregard whatever feelings she was going through but he also didn’t feel obligated to her anymore. For the first time in a long time, he didn’t feel like he was on her leash. He was done putting her first.  

“Tess, not now.” His voice was low and gentle. He really did feel for her out of habit, but he also knew he couldn’t let her try to reconcile. Not yet, anyways. He was open and hopeful to remain friends with her, but she needed to get over him first. He knew her reaction would be anger until she had time to cool off. 

“Really? After that you are going to ice me out? What the hell, Joel?” Her anger was increasing with every sound leaving her lips. The last thing he wanted was a blow up with her and he wasn’t going to let her control this narrative any longer. 

“Stop it.” He unintentionally uses his size to intimidate her as he steps closer. Silencing her as the remaining empathy leaves his eyes. He was never confrontational with Tess, and this was something new that she did not expect or know how to react to.   

A few nosy people nearby get quiet as they try to watch the drama unfold in front of them and pretend to be minding their own business. Joel takes a step back from Tess and furrows his brow.  

“I told you. I’m moving on. We’re done now.” He says firmly and sharply points his finger towards her. The tears in her eyes almost make him soften, but he holds firm. “Done.” He reiterates through gritted teeth.

He hated being so cold, but he had to or else nothing would change.  

Tess bites her lip and for the first time has no words. She was so used to being the boss and calling the shots and for the most part Joel let her. Not this time. She wipes the wetness that starts to fall from her eyes and walks off, angry and hurt.

“What are you looking at?” He snaps at the prying eyes watching him be a total asshole and then proceeds to walk towards the exit to continue his search. He was quickly running out of fucks to give by this point in the evening.

The bar was starting to clear out a little now that the live entertainment was done for the night. He doesn’t see you and starts to worry you left without allowing him a chance to explain himself. 

Truthfully, he didn’t know what he was going to say, but he knew he needed to see you. To apologize at the minimum and beg you to hear him out. There was so much you didn’t know that he needed to tell you.

He collects his guitar, dons his jacket and makes his way outside. There is a gentle snow falling and a coating on the cars and walkway. Footprints heavily littering the path into the parking lot and fanning out. It would be a fool's errand to pick out your prints or your car under the blanket of winter. 

He makes his way to his truck, and carelessly brushes off his windshield with his sleeve. 

He pulls out his phone and calls you, but it goes unanswered and to your mailbox. He sends you a text.

Joel: Im so sorry baby

Joel: Please can we talk? 

He leans on his truck, ignoring the cold and tries to call you again. And again. The relentless ringing is only silenced by the robotic voice of the generic voice mail operator.

After the 3rd call he left a message.

“Please answer the phone baby girl. I know I don’t deserve it, but I need to talk to you. Please.” His message was delivered with a low, calm tone, barely masking that he was afraid. 

Afraid he lost you.  

—

READER POV - Saturday Afternoon

Marlene dropped you off at the bar to pick up your car. No one was around this time of day and it felt surreal being back at the scene of the crime, so to speak. She gave you a hug and just nodded to you as you left. Urging you to believe you would be ok, and you had to move on. 

When you got home you didn’t even dare look to see if Joel was home. You went inside, took a shower and wrapped up in a blanket to watch TV on your couch.

Whatever was on you didn’t really pay attention. Your mind was just filled with Joel. You wanted to wake up from this bad dream. 

You had been vulnerable with him. You were ready to give yourself to him so quickly because you craved that intimacy only he could give. He worshipped your body and made you feel something you never felt before. 

Was that enough? Surely not to a self respecting person. It makes you feel sick to be so hesitant to do the obviously right thing.  

You so badly wanted him, and knew you couldn’t just let him treat you this way. You felt guilty about still wanting to give him a chance.

You finally gave in to looking at your phone. 

You had 34 unread messages from Joel. 9 missed calls and 3 voicemails. You fought the urge to see what he had to say and instead gave notice to your other missed calls. Your mother. She had tried to call you 3 times. You had barely talked to her this past week and didn’t really want to but you also knew she would worry if you continued to ignore her. You were afraid she might also reach out to her precious neighbor too if you gave her any reason to panic. It didn’t take much with her. 

You called your mom, lied that you were sick with the flu and that you just wanted to sleep. She didn’t make you talk long thankfully and she didn’t say anything about her handyman neighbor.

The night was getting late and you mustered up enough energy to move into your bedroom. 

Seeing Joel’s flannel shirt laying at the foot of your bed hit you hard. You had been so happy and flirty just a few nights before and you wanted that back. It felt like it was taken from you unfairly.

You hugged the shirt to your chest and breathed in his masculine scent that still lingered. The scent that drove you wild with desire.  

How were you going to get over this man who made you such a mess?

You tossed the shirt into your dirty clothes pile and got into bed, lamenting how cold and empty it was and wishing you were wrapped up in Joel’s navy blue sheets and stealing his heat. Feeling his heartbeat against your cheek as he holds you close. The ghost of his touch on your skin makes you tear up again. 

Fuck you Joel Miller. You mumble out loud to yourself. It wasn’t fair.   

You lay there for what felt like hours, your mind firing on all cylinders with no hope of slowing down. 

Curiosity won in the end, and you opened up the text thread with Joel. You scanned it quickly and saw a recurring theme of him asking if you were ok, apologizing and worried that you were not home.  

Joel: Please just tell me you are safe

Joel: I’ll leave you alone just let me know

Joel: Where are you? 

Those were texts from the morning. After your car was back home and signs of life his messages were back to apologizing and what you can only imagine to be a descent of drunken texts from this evening.

Joel: I’m so sorry

Joel: We need to talk

Joel: Please n

Joel: I m fucknig srry

Joel: Just let m tel you and ill stpo

Joel: /

Joel: I ned to talk to you

You wanted to talk to him. You needed some clarity, but you also didn’t want to be tricked into forgiving him because of your body betraying your mind. There was a nagging you could not shake that his actions at the bar didn’t undo the way he made you feel. There had to be more to it or else it would be so easy to wash your hands of him and never turn back. 

You started typing a reply and deleting until finally settling on just leaving him on read. 

You listened to his first voicemail, and hearing the pain in his voice made your heart break more. He was worried about you and he sounded like he was doing his best to be composed, but you could see through it. That southern drawl makes you melt when you hear him call you baby girl.

You slammed your phone down and regretted giving in to his attempts. It only made it harder to be mad at him.  

As you drifted off to sleep with tears leaving wet stripes on your cheeks you decided that tomorrow you would go see Joel. You would go in person and get a true gauge of where things stand. You would also try to do the right thing.    

—

JOEL POV - Saturday Night

Midday and he was worried about you. Not only were you not answering him or reading his messages, but you also had not been home. Of course you were an adult and clearly could do whatever you wanted, but he felt entirely responsible for whatever you were up to. 

He paced to his bedroom window, looking out through the blinds to see the same snow covered drive. Untouched. He was getting restless.  

He flips through your messages and can’t help but look at the pics you sent him during your bedtime photoshoot.

He could feel himself harden and palmed himself through his denim to get some relief. It felt wrong, but he couldn’t control the way his body reacted to you. He unzips his jeans to let his cock breathe as he takes a seat in the living room. 

Scrolling through the photos you sent and seeing more and more of your body made him swell. The pressure in his groin became too much to handle with a casual touch. 

Fuck he mumbles under his breath. 

He spreads his legs wider and slides a hand inside his boxers to stroke himself, imagining it was you and your gentle hands wrapped around his shaft. 

The guilt of what he did weighed heavy on his mind but didn’t hinder him from getting aroused. He needed to have you again. Feel your tight pussy gripping him and listen to your sweet moans. 

It eats away at him. It was wrong to get off to you especially after what he had done to you. 

But it didn’t stop him.

Settling on the second picture you sent, he focuses on how deranged and needy you looked. Hungry for his cock. Your breasts were perfectly in view and still partially clad in his shirt. His scent was all over you in that moment. You were his.  

His labored strokes quicken as he fucks into his fist and he comes with a stifled groan. 

Sitting alone with his release dripping over his knuckles made him feel like a dirty old man. Getting off to a woman that didn’t want him anymore.   

He woke later that evening, awkwardly slumped against the arm of his chair. The house was completely dark except for some embers from his wood stove about to give it’s last breath. He was groggy and sore. His neck ached from the awkward position. 

After getting his wits about him, he opened his phone to see you still had not replied. He stumbled over to his window and to his relief your car was parked in the yard. 

At least you were home. You were safe. Clearly you did not want to talk to him yet. 

He wanders off to his kitchen to pour himself a stiff drink and downs it way too fast before taking a shower and drinking again and again. 

As the whiskey clouds his mind and fills him with nothing but remorse for what he did, he sloppily sends you some desperate texts before passing out for the night.

—

READER POV - Sunday

The Sunday afternoon energy was heavy. You had been avoiding Joel in every possible way since Friday night. The exception being your moment of weakness and reading his texts. Instead you buried yourself in a book trying to focus your mind on another world with characters struggling with simpler problems.

The time spent alone had given you some peace to think about what your next move was going to be, but you were still battling with what to do.

If you were not so smitten with him it would be so easy to just walk away. You never questioned his character before and now it’s all you can do. Weighing the damage he did with what you had come to know about him before was not an easy task. It also made you question your own character. What kind of a person would it make you be to continue on with this? Maybe you battled with failed relationships all your life because you never found the one to balance who you really are. Maybe you are just hopelessly lusting over Joel Miller and telling yourself anything that can make it feel ok. 

Your anger and hurt was stinging less and making you feel more numb than anything. Marlene’s words of advice were lingering in the front of your mind constantly. You felt guilty for entertaining the idea of talking to him and even more guilty for settling on actually doing it. 

Looking out your front window you see his truck parked in his driveway. No fresh tire tracks and covered in snow. You had not seen any signs of life since you returned home other than some smoke from his chimney and a light or two.

The text messages from him did still trickle in at a slower pace, but you continued to ignore them. Wiping the notification off your lock screen.

Marlene also texted you periodically to check in and you assured her you were doing just fine and would be ok. 

You made an impulsive decision to go over now before you changed your mind again, not sure what you were going to say or do, but you couldn’t ignore him forever. The more you thought about what your gameplan was the more you started to talk yourself out of it.  

You freshened up in the bathroom, applying some light makeup to mask the bags under your eyes and hide the fact that you have been crying for days. You knew deep down you also just wanted to look really good for him. You wanted to spite him and make him want you but not let him have you as some sort of punishment. At least that is what you told yourself.     

You bundled up in your boots and winter jacket. Wrapped a scarf around you and put on some mittens and a hat. Your hair falling loosely around your face. You looked cute but completely covered up. 

The sun was just starting to set, but there was still plenty of light left to venture outside.

You wandered over to your mailbox and picked up the scent of burning wood. A smoky, campfire smell. It smelled inviting. You heard a chopping sound coming from the direction of Joel’s house and guessed he was outside working. Typical Joel behavior to be outdoors. 

As you make your way to his house the campfire smell intensifies and you see some smoke coming from the side of his house. There is a footpath going from his driveway and you decide to follow it to the sound.

As you round the corner, the sight is enough to make you forgive all his wrongs.

Joel’s back was to you and his silhouette is bright and familiar. You could recognize his figure in a lineup with ease. Broad and commanding.  

The frame of his body was muscular but not bulky. Toned from his manual labor lifestyle. His broad shoulders and tapered waist were perfectly illuminated by the burning fire next to him.  

He was dressed in some dirty jeans that hugged him perfectly and heavy work boots. His torso clad in a rustic, plaid flannel not too different from the one you stole. The sleeves are pushed up and bunched on his forearms and his hands protected with leather gloves. 

You see his jacket discarded on a pile of chopped wood and a small brush pile burning next to him, keeping him unnecessarily warm. It looked like he had more than enough body heat radiating off him. Uncomfortably toasty.  

The area between his shoulder blades was damp and dark with sweat. The curls in his hair were an unruly mess, especially where they met the hot perspiration on his neck. 

Seeing Joel in lumberjack mode unlocked something inside you that you didn’t even know existed. He was so primal in his ability to handle whatever task was at hand. Just as he had been when intimate with you. He could take you away and live off the grid someplace in the wilderness and you wouldn’t bat an eye. He was more than capable of taking care of all your needs.  

You feel it deep inside you. That intense heat building that only Joel can make you feel. An arousal coiling up inside you and ready to burst out if given the chance.   

He turns to place a section of wood in front of him and makes a grunt sound as he lifts it into place. No doubt it was heavy and judging by his pile, and the sweat on his body, he had been at this for a while. His outstretched arm had his flannel tightly choking his bicep as he moved to adjust the log in front of him. It was obscene to see his body flex and demonstrate his strength. The desire to have his arms on you in this moment and feel the full force of his body against you.

He picks up the axe and throttles it down again with a grunt, wood splintering in front of him as the force from his axe splits the wood into two.

He is nearly panting from the exertion, moving the split wood over to the pile only to repeat it all over again. He pulls his shirt up to wipe his brow. The hard ridges of his muscles taunt you as they shine in the light of the fire. As he wipes his sweat and pauses for the briefest moment to rest against his axe you decide to make your presence known before he realizes you are watching him.

“Hey Joel” you announce softly.

He is startled by you and turns quickly, letting his shirt fall back over his stomach. His expression softens when he meets your eyes. He tosses the axe next to him and pulls off his gloves as he steps towards you. 

The heat of his body and his smoky scent hit you all at once as he stands just in front of you, unsure if he should touch you or not.  He hesitates but you can see the desire in his eyes to touch you. 

“Sweetheart, I’m–” he pauses, and rakes his hand through his hair. “I’m so glad to see you. Lord knows I don’t deserve it.” He gives a side smirk and his best attempt at looking innocent. It almost works.

He steps towards you but you reluctantly hold your hand up. He ignores it and pushes his chest into your palm. His innocence was replaced with cunning intentions. His damp and hot chest sending a wave of desire through you, making you even more wet. You were certain he could sense it too despite your attempts to act put together.  

Before you can protest he has his hands on your waist. His fingers wrapping around you and positioned to pull you in close. His needy energy is not something you have seen before. Not like this. Assertive but stepping over a line you put out. 

“Joel, stop.” You weakly protest and take a step back from him. His hands slide off your hip as you step away and you can see some panic in his eyes that he misread what this was. 

He could clearly see how mixed you were feeling. He was letting his raw desire take the lead and hoped it would help sway you to give in to him and soften your resolve. Whether it was wrong or right, he knew that sexual tension you both had was not going silently.

He also knew that he cared about you more than just as a hookup. Truthfully you had made him feel things he hadn’t felt in a long time. He was so scared to lose you before he even got to properly have you. His fear was making him act stupid and desperate and he didn’t know how to reign it back. Especially with you being just within your reach. He was tailspinning.      

“I’m sorry, baby.” He pauses. “I should have told you about her. It’s not what it looks like. I mean, it is complicated and–”

You swallow back your feelings and look him straight in the eyes. How much more cliche could he get?  

“It’s too late for that now,” you countered, realizing that confronting this now was not something you were ready for after all. 

Joel chewed his lip, wiping his hand on his chin as he fought back the urge to unleash some of his anger that he had been harboring. Anger he had towards himself that needed to escape. He was getting agitated.

He knew you were right, but he knew he couldn’t just let you go. He lets out a deep breath as he pinches between his brows, releasing a little tension as he exhales and composes his next words carefully.

“I want you to… need you to know I never did anything with her while I was with you.” His words come out desperate, pleading with you to understand. To forgive him even. 

You weren’t sure if you believed that. You couldn’t exactly trust him anymore now that the trust had been broken.     

“I swear it. There is a lot you don’t know about Tess and-”

Hearing her name on his lips is the last straw and it enrages you, reminding you that you are not here for second chances and apologies. You are here to tell him to leave you alone.

“I don’t think we should see each other anymore.” You declare coldly and emotionless. 

Joel stares, he looks like he wants to speak but he isn’t sure what to say. He isn’t sure he heard you right, or didn’t want to believe that he did. 

You go to turn but he grabs your sleeve and holds you to face him.

“Please, I need to… don’t go.” He stumbles over his words, grabbing you harder than he meant to, desperate to make you stay.  

“You hurt me.” The tears start to fall again as you speak your truth to him. You look him straight in the eyes so he can see your pain from what he did. There was no misreading your tears. 

“I know. Never meant for you to get hurt. I can explain-” He panics, realizing you are leaving him and his chance is fleeting.

You struggle to pull your arm away but he isn’t listening and just brings you closer with his strength. He was blind to your obvious demands to stop. Clouded by his panic.  

“I owe you an explanation. Let me-” His eyes penetrate into you, begging you to look at him. 

“It's too late.” You cut him off. “Lose my number.” Your words bite. 

You pull your arm away sharply and continue to walk away. You feel him staring at you and you swear he can hear your heart beating out of your chest. It took every ounce of restraint to hold firm with what you set out to do. You were not going to let him talk you into changing your mind.

With tears welling up in your eye you continue walking forward. You hear him begging you to stop and listen to him. 

“Sweetheart, please.” he calls out after you. Pleading with you but you put more distance between him and his words as they get quieter.

Under his breath, Joel whispers “I’m sorry.” When your pace quickens and you don’t look back you swear you can hear him speak those words again and again, but you keep walking. 

To be continued...

A O 3 | M A S T E R L I S T | N O T I F I C A T I O N S

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[americas-ass-writing]

Happy Ending

Steve Rogers x reader

Words: 1.3k

Warnings: some swear words

A/N: For @fluffystevefest last day (it went by so fast)! Thank you for doing this 🥰

I wrote this on my phone so there will probably be mistakes 😅

Devider by @saradika-graphics

Happy endings were something from fairytales. The real life didn't offer this. Steve would know. Every single piece of happiness was taken from him after way too short. His dad, his mom soon after, Bucky (who luckily returned to him), his own life. After trying to reclaim what he could of his life things looked better. He had friends, a found family, a sense of purpose... only for it to be taken far too soon. After the fight with Thanos everyone went their separate ways. Tony quit to be with his family, Natasha went on a lengthy solo mission. Sam and Bucky went on their own adventures after Steve gave the shield to Sam, too tired to continue being cap. Being someone he just isn't anymore. Thor went back to new Asgard. Bruce went to California. Which leaves Steve alone in New York. Alone to pick up the shambles of his and everyone else's life. Alone.

The only social contacts he has are Peter when he needs help with his history homework, the old man from across the hall who bakes too much and gives Steve some sweet treats every sunday and the stray cats in the alley behind the building that he feeds. And theres the people from the therapy group he leads... And of course the people on the street who absolutely seem to hate him and love to let him know.

Do his neighbors to the left that constantly fight so loud he hears every word count? Steve sighs as he hears then fight once more and he isn't strong enough to hold himself back. "Fucking finally break. up! The building is sick and tired of you two fighting! Move out!" He barks against the wall. Against the picture of him and his friends... who kind of broke up. No more avengers... No more found family. Steve blinks at the picture and mutters a sorry before someone bangs on his door. Great! It's probably the asshole from next door.

With another sigh he goes to open the door. The angry gnome from next door stops in his tracks, the red falling from his face faster than his eyes grow the size of dinner plates because of all people it was the ex captain America that just told him to fucking break up. "Uh..." Steve rolls his eyes at the stammering. "Listen, sorry for the profanities but damn I'm so annoyed at your constant fighting. Keep it down or I'll complain to the building manager." He says, his tone serious and the gnome nods as if Steve just gave him an order... Well maybe he did. Steves eyes flutter to the poor girlfriend who stands in the doorframe. She's cute. "You deserve better." Is all he says before he turns around, catches a glimpse of the old man, Stanley, across the hall and closes the door. He lets out another sigh and crawls back onto the couch. Silence at last... At least in his environment..his head is loud as ever as his eyes fall back on the picture of his found family. Maybe he should go visit Tony. Or maybe Clint on the farm? Maybe he could guilt trip them all to see him for his birthday? He purses his lips and is about to text them when there's a gentle knock on his door. He swears if it's that gnome again he'll punch him into the next century.

As Steve opens the door he's met with the most beautiful woman he's every seen. His eyes grow wider and his mouth opens slightly. "H...Hi! You don't know me, I just moved in on the other side of the loud apartment... I just uh... Thank you for making them shut up?" You give him and unsure smile and all he can do is nod and stare. Which makes you nervous. "I uh... I had the night shift and I should sleep but they were so loud I couldn't. I already knocked against the wall but that didn't stop them. So thank you again!" You ramble on, nervously wringing your hands. Something makes Steve snap out of it. "Oh! No problem... They annoy me a lot too, although I don't have... work..." He offers awkwardly and then he holds out his hand. "I'm Steve" you smile softly at that and put your hand in his, offering your name. He softly shakes it and maybe holds it for a bit too long, not that any of you care.

"I should let you get back to sleep. Night shift sounds awful. Exhausting job?" He asks with an easy smile. "Sometimes? It's just exhausting when you have the night shift immediately after your move to scream town" he chuckles at your joke, which makes your insides release thousands of butterflies. "Yeah I think the building manager makes them leave for showings. They didn't scream for mine or for Stan's showing" he points to the door across from him and you immediately know that that must be where Stan lives. "They probably do or they'd have an empty floor" you joke and there's another sweet chuckle. "I uh... Thanks again, I'll leave you to it." You say before he can answer and give him a sweet smile and a small wave before heading back to your apartment. Steves heart flutters as he watches you leave. Did screaming at the gnome just introduce him to the sweetest human alive? He closes his door after you've entered your apartment. With a new pep in his step he goes to his phone and reaches out to his friends.

It's just a couple of days later when you knock on his door again. He's surprised to see you but oh so happy. "Hey sorry if I'm disturbing you" he smiles and shakes his head, urging you to go on. "I... That'll sound like I'm a creep but I uh... I saw you feed the strays and I wanted to bring you some food for them." You hold up the bag of food and Steve smiles sweetly. "Yeah... I started feeding them when I moved in. Can't have 3 cats though and I can't just take one. Would be a shame to separate them" he says as he takes the bag from you and thanks you sweetly. "Yeah it would be... They're so cute though" you gush and he smiles even more. "Hey uh... Wanna come in? Stan made too much cake and gave me like half of it... We could share?" You immediately nod and give him a shy smile. "I'd love that" Steve beams at that and let's you in. As you sit down he gets some tea for the both of you and gives you some cake.

One slice of cake turned into two. That turned into dinner and dinner turned into the two of you kissing on his couch. Kissing on his couch turned into a beautiful relationship filled with love and laughter. Steve has never been happier and he vowed to the universe to give everything in his power to not lose you. And whoever in the universe listened fulfilled his wish. A short engagement led to a beautiful outdoor wedding on Tony's property with everyone from his found family showing up. The two of you bought a house and moved in together with the 3 strays that you just couldn't leave behind. And your little family soon grew to a family of 7 when you got pregnant with twins.

Steve has never been prouder to carry a title then the title of daddy. Little chubby hands around his finger, big eyes taking in the wonder of the world and your beautiful smile as you're watching him with your little ones.

If Steve would have to describe a happy ending it would be this. You, his little ones and the 3 cats.

[drdemonprince]

also a good-faith question: what do i tell some of my friends who are terrified of the collapse of the current system for like, survival reasons? like in ways that mutual aid and community support can't really help.

i was trying to explain all this stuff to my friend the other day who is on government support and needs a lot of intensive, expensive medical intervention to live, and she accused me of being willing to sacrifice disabled people for the sake of ideological purity but like, i wasn't saying she doesn't deserve to live, but that she doesn't deserve to live more than palestinians do? and that she also doesn't deserve to specifically live on stolen land. and like, there are palestinians who also could really use those medical treatments that she has the privilege of accessing, why does she deserve them more?

she said she can't afford to not care about the election results because if anything happens to the aca or medicaid, or if anything happens to the medical supply chains, then she's fucked. like, yeah, but same goes for all these people our country is oppressing??

i feel like i just didn't explain this well and i want to give her some other stuff to read.

Great question! I think when people believe that all social care systems will collapse without the government, they are buying into a very colonialist idea that human beings are at their most basic level selfish and irresponsible and won't care for their communities. This is not the case! Thousands of years of human history prove this not to be the case, and so do the behaviors of humans right now during moments of crisis.

Look to the people of Gaza -- they are not leaving their disabled behind. People are sacrificing all that they have to care for their elderly relatives, neighbors, and friends. The only reason that disabled people in Gaza are dying is because the region is being deliberately deprived of resources by Israel. If aid were let in and the Palestinian people were free, they would feed their hungry, treat their sick, supply insulin, teach children, and perform everything that we currently in the US rely upon the government to supply.

Another example of this can be found in how humans respond to natural disasters. Rebecca Solnit's book A Paradise Built in Hell is a beautiful read on this, following numerous real-life disasters across the globe. In every case, people did not riot and pillage or dissolve into violence--- they formed stable encampments, doctors and pharmacists worked their jobs without pay, cooks made food without expecting a wage, everyone pooled their resources and looked after one another.

We also see examples of this when other governments have fallen -- and all governments eventually do! When a nation-state ends, life doesn't end. People keep going to work to make the medicine and put on the leg casts and wash physically disabled people's bodies and make the food. People WANT to feel useful, helpful, included, and looked after, and they will do these things without being forced to by an authoritarian power structure. We see this in the campus encampments and the incredible outpouring of generosity they are experiencing too.

It is quite common for a person to mistakenly believe that the government is all that is keeping our social order working, and that we are all just one moment away from violent chaos and deprivation without it. But that really isn't true. Even without the government, we will still have the *people* who understand how food production and logistics work, the *people* who research and test the drugs, the *people* who watch the children and nurse the elders and fix the roads and butcher chickens.

Without the alienating, exploitative economic structure we currently have, it would actually be EASIER and more efficient for us to take care of one another with these skills, because our time wouldnt be wasted on bullshit jobs that don't contribute to society.

There are lots of great readings about all of this on the Anarchist Library, but I recommend starting with David Graeber's books! Bullshit Jobs, then Debt the first 5000 Years, then Utopia of Rules, then Dawn of Everything. Bullshit Jobs is the easiest read.

[dontforgetukraine]

Tetiana, 73, in her basement in the front-line city of Toretsk, Donetsk Oblast, on July 3, 2024. (George Ivanchenko / The Kyiv Independent)

A basement in the front-line city of Toretsk, Donetsk Oblast, on July 3, 2024. (George Ivanchenko / The Kyiv Independent)

Life in the basement

His friends and colleagues have evacuated, and his family has gone: “My mom was sick, there was no heating in winter, so I sent her to Dnipro for free treatment. Then she died. Now I’m alone, I have no one left.” “I don't believe the radio – I believe only my eyes. This has been going on for 10 years now, and I don't know where it will end.” In the next basement room, where 73-year-old Tetiana lives with her daughter Oksana and an elderly neighbor, a woman's voice, speaking Russian, is just audible on the radio. ”We listen to anything, just to hear something. I'm grateful to my neighbor because he made a battery-powered radio, otherwise we'd be like moles here. You could go crazy just listening to explosions,” says Tetiana. Tetiana now takes care of dogs and cats that people left in their apartments when they fled the city. “I have eight dogs here, and I don't know how many cats,” she says. “I feed as many of them as I can find – I can't even count them. They’re all hungry and dehydrated. I go out to feed them and run into the bushes if there's a drone flying. It's very scary. But what can I do? I feel sorry for the animals too.” Tetiana previously worked at a sanitary inspector’s office, and her daughter worked in a mine, maintaining flashlights and lanterns for the miners. “I don't think about anything, I don't want to think about things – I don't want to be sad. We think about staying alive. We’re on the brink.” She starts to cry. “We’re on the brink. But I can't leave the animals behind.” The women have some food and water, but not enough candles and batteries for their flashlights. Their phones are all dead, and anyway there’s no cellphone signal here. They try not to leave the basement because of the constant attacks. “Shells and drones are falling all the time, and the worst things are the warplanes. Warplanes and artillery,” says Tetiana.

Source: Land on fire: Russia's offensive in Donetsk Oblast brings destruction to new towns (Photos

[metallicaislife]

Unwell

A/N: A self indulgent blurb bc I don't feel good and wish this was a reality hahah 😭💕

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 805

Warnings: Swearing

“I have a cough, are you sure you still want me to come over?” I asked Saul over the phone as I sat on my couch. 

“It’s probably just your smokers' hack.” He replied. 

“Tell her if she doesn’t get here soon we’re gonna start the movie without her!” I heard Duff yell in the background. 

“You heard the man.” Saul said. 

“Fine.” I grumbled, “I’ll be there soon.” 

“See ya fucker.” Saul hung up. 

I rolled my eyes and got up putting a jacket on. I drove to Saul’s and entered without knocking. 

“Look who finally decided to show up.” Duff said as I entered the living room. 

“Shut up McKagan.” I said plopping down on the couch. 

“You know what I love best about you? Your cheery disposition.” Duff grinned. 

“Haha.” I said dryly and flipped him off. “What are we watching?” I asked, turning my attention to Saul who walked in with some popcorn. 

“I rented Labyrinth.” He smiled. I grinned back at him as he sat next to me. I’ve known Saul for a couple years, we used to be neighbors in an apartment building, and kept in contact after he moved. I have the biggest crush on him, but I’m content just being his friend.

The movie started and I wanted to melt into his side like normal but my throat kept tickling and I had to cough every few minutes. 

“Jesus.” Duff huffed. 

“I warned Saul.” I said. 

Duff and I were best frenemies. He’s the sweetest guy but we love to push each other's buttons. 

About half way through the movie I got up to use the restroom. 

“Want me to pause it?” Saul asked. 

“Nah, I've already seen it a bunch of times.” I replied. 

When I came out of the bathroom the movie was paused.

“Fuck me gently with a chainsaw.” I grumbled.

Duff threw his head back with a laugh. 

“What’s wrong?” Saul asked.

“I just started my period, I’m pretty sure I have a cold, and look at the dark bags under my eyes, I’m pretty sure they have their own goddamn zip code.” I said pointing to my eyes. 

“You do look like you got dragged to hell by a semi-truck.” Duff said laughing. I flipped him off and he raised his hands, “sorry. I’ll leave you be.” He continued laughing as he left. 

“Go lay in my bed and I’ll bring you some soup.” Saul said. 

“No it’s okay, I should probably go home.” I said, grabbing my jacket. Saul caught my elbow. 

“I wasn’t asking. Go lay down.” He said again. My heart melted a little, as did my resolve to leave. 

“Thank you.” I said and made my way to his room. I found some of his clothes changing into them then cocooned myself in his blankets. 

Saul came in a short while later with a bowl. I sat up and he handed it to me. 

“Thank you.” I smiled softly. He sat next to me as I sipped on the soup. He reached out, putting his hand on my forehead. 

“You feel warm. When you finish the soup you should sleep.” He stated. 

“Are you sure I can stay here? I don't mind driving home.” I said. 

“If you go home, who is going to take care of you?” He asked. 

“Me.” I replied. He shook his head.

“That won’t do.” He said. 

“But what if you get sick?” I asked him softly.

“Then you can take care of me.” He smiled. 

“You’d love it if I played nurse, huh?” I teased with a small laugh that triggered a cough. He took the soup from my hands so I didn’t spill. When I regained my breath he brought the spoon to my mouth. 

“You’re right, I would love it if you were my nurse.” He grinned and continued feeding me the soup. My cheeks were heated and it wasn’t the fever. When I finished the soup Saul left to take the bowl to the kitchen. 

I laid back down feeling more tired than I had realized. 

Saul came back to his room and I heard him shuffling about until the bed dipped and I felt him get under the covers. He scooted over until he was right behind me. He wrapped a strong arm around me pulling me into him. We cuddled on a couch during movies. This is new though. 

“Are you comfortable?” He asked. 

“Yeah.” I replied softly. 

“Good. Now get some sleep, okay?” He said and nuzzled his head on top of mine. 

I thought my heart would have been trying to beat out of my chest but all I felt was peace and safety. My last thought before drifting off was that I don’t think Saul and I will be just friends for much longer. 

Thank you for reading! Feel free to request or chat :)

-Isa

[amrv-5]

Where's Everett? (1966) Or: Alan Alda raises an invisible alien baby

Part of a series of writeups of unaired or otherwise inaccessible TV objects ft. Alan Alda, which I was able to access via the Paley Center for Media in NYC (November 2024). 

Where’s Everett? (1966) - Producer, Creator, Writer: Ed Simmons; Associate Producer: Jon Zimmer; Director: Gene Nelson. 

Cast: Arnold Barker - Alan Alda; Sylvia Barker - Patricia Smith; Dr. Paul Jellicoe - Nicolas Coster, Lizzie Barker - Doreen Miller; Murdock - Frank DeVol; Milkman - Robert Cleaves. 

Summary: When a basket containing an invisible baby appears on the doorstep of Arnold (Alan Alda) and Sylvia Barker (Patricia Smith), the couple clashes over what to do. Arnold, a professional science fiction author, thinks they ought to turn the baby over to be studied. Sylvia thinks they ought to raise it as their own. The couple call in family friend and pediatrician Dr. Paul Jellicoe (Nicolas Coster) for help, all while trying to balance keeping invisible baby Everett a secret from their daughter, Lizzie (Doreen Miller), nosy neighbors (Milkman - Robert Cleaves) and investigating reporters (Murdock - Frank DeVol). 

Plot recounting: The show begins in an unassuming suburban American neighborhood, white-picket-fence’d, green lawn’d, and quiet. A tracking shot follows an empty, floating wicker basket down the street, through a white picket fence, and up to the door of a house. The basket floats down to sit on the doorstep. The doorbell is rung by an unseen entity, whose footsteps are audible as it hurries away. The camera follows the invisible entity back down the street, panning to reveal a large spaceship parked on one of the suburban lawns. The spaceship opens, a staircase descends, footsteps are heard ascending it, and the staircase retracts. The spaceship flies away. Meanwhile, the doorbell is answered by Arnold Barker (Alan Alda), still in his dressing gown. He regards the empty basket with confusion as a baby—not visible—begins to cry. The intro plays: A cheerful, upbeat tune over yellow title cards listing cast and credits. 

Arnold and his wife Sylvia (Patricia Smith) investigate, attempting to locate the crying baby. They decide the sound must be coming from inside the apparently empty basket. Though Arnold is doubtful, he puts a hand inside the basket, and quickly withdraws it: He was bitten by something invisible, which left visible teeth-marks (“Arnold, there’s a baby in that basket!” “But a baby what?”). The couple try to decide what to do with the invisible baby. Arnold suggests they report it (“Why don’t we call the police and have them give the baby back to Claude Rains?”), but they eventually settle on calling their friend, pediatrician Dr. Paul Jellicoe (Nicolas Coster) for advice. 

Arnold explains the situation to Paul, who refuses to believe him, due to the fact that Arnold is a professional science fiction novelist. Eventually Paul agrees to come over for Arnold’s sake, convinced that Arnold is sick, drunk, or otherwise hallucinating. Meanwhile Sylvia feeds the baby, whom she has named Everett, oatmeal, which disappears off the spoon. Arnold complains about the ridiculousness of the situation, and Everett responds by flinging oatmeal into his face.

When Paul arrives, Arnold shows him to Everett’s wicker basket—but they realize that Everett has crawled away, prompting a carefully thorough and shoeless (“You might step on him!”) search of the floor and furniture, until Paul notices a floating piece of candy and realizes Everett the invisible baby is real after all. Paul gives the baby an exam and notes that the child is healthy and normal, except for an unusually high body temperature and, of course, the invisibility (“Just think, Arnold, you’re going to save a fortune on clothes.”). He recommends the Barkers not mention the baby to their young daughter Lizzie, worrying it might have an adverse emotional impact. 

Lizzie descends the stairs and states that she dreamed she heard a baby crying. The Barkers and Paul play a game of hot potato with invisible baby Everett, trying to keep him away from Lizzie without arousing her suspicion or looking too obviously as though they are holding something invisible and baby-sized. The tradeoff only works until Everett is placed back into his basket and begins to cry. To the surprise of the Barkers and Paul, Lizzie takes the revelation with equanimity: “Invisible baby,” she says, pleased, before rocking Everett in her arms and asking if the family can keep him. 

Sylvia hears the milkman outside, and asks Arnold to buy some extra milk for the baby. Arnold, still believing they ought to turn the baby over to somebody in authority, reluctantly agrees, and hears from the milkman that a rumor is going around the street: A flying saucer was spotted on a neighboring lawn early in the morning.

Arnold is surprised and then delighted by the news, and suggests that it could be a boon for his career. He proposes handing the baby over to science in a public fashion, imagining the headline attention it might receive, and the increase of attention towards his books. Sylvia, however, wants to keep Everett, distressed by the idea of the baby being “poked at” and studied; she states that whoever dropped the baby off must have wanted them to care for him. 

The doorbell rings (Arnold: “If nobody’s there, maybe it’s the parent.”), and reporter Murdock (Frank DeVol) asks if the Barkers have any information about the flying saucer rumor. Arnold attempts to tell the reporter about Everett, but Sylvia and Lizzie undermine him by implying he is relaying a story he’s working on, mentioning his career as a science-fiction writer, and hiding the baby, so when Arnold directs the reporter to pick Everett up, he finds nothing in the basket. Arnold immediately panics, believing Everett has crawled away again (“Where’s Everett?!”), and begins to search the floor on hands and knees. The reporter leaves, convinced Arnold is insane. 

Sylvia and Lizzie assure Arnold that the baby isn’t lost again—they only relocated Everett to an armchair. Arnold picks Everett up for safekeeping and tries to convince his family one last time that they can’t possibly raise an invisible baby. He slowly begins to doubt himself as he speaks, noting that they have always wanted a son, before Everett manages his first word: “Dada.” Arnold leaps over a couch and begins to hop around, delighted, holding Everett to his chest (“He knows me!”), accepting his role as Everett’s new father. 

(Semi-Alda-specific) review: So awesome. Went into this one knowing the premise “Suburban couple find and raise invisible alien baby” and was prepared for it to be pretty hard to take, but was pleasantly surprised by its consistent humor and how well it committed to a pretty ridiculous conceit. Ed Simmons wrote for Martin and Lewis, which feels just about right, given the zaniness of the script and the prevalence of tossed-off one-liners. Unclear on how this would have worked for longer than one episode, but I’m sad we never got to see it attempted. Alda and Smith are particularly excellent at what seems, while watching, like a long-form improv warmup game: They commit and commit well to ‘holding’ baby Everett, transferring him between each other, rocking, soothing, lifting, and otherwise gently handling baby-shaped empty air, which if you stop buying the existence of the baby becomes insanely funny insanely fast, but in the watching process is pretty sweet. Really excellent for Alda specifically because he does befuddled but well-meaning and generally reasonable suburban dad so well as a role type; plus he’s wearing a wonderfully 60s velour tracksuit top, which is so visually fun it’s almost a character in itself. Verdict: Don’t miss this one if you visit the archive. Such a treat.

[arcofacatboy]

Remember when, towards the beginning of Unwind, Connor sees a storked baby on someone’s doorstep?

Connor has just escaped the juvies less than 48 hours beforehand. Right now, his main focus is not getting caught by juvies and being unwound as a result. He has Risa and Lev to look out for - not that he knows either of them very well at this point - but his main goal, at this point, is saving his own skin (literally). Connor didn’t object when his classmate, and fellow unwind, Andy Jameson, sacrificed himself for him. It was implied in a Facebook post (all the way back in 2011!) that Connor and Andy were friends - and Andy was ultimately unwound because he saved Connor’s life. Andy is never mentioned again. Connor feels no guilt over Andy entering a divided state for him.

And yet, when Connor sees that baby on the doorstep, he panics.

It’s not like the general public in the Unwind Universe care about storks that much. Starkey was tormented by his status as a stork - everyone else thought he was a joke because of it, and he hated himself for that. Bam feels similarly, and is no stranger to becoming aggressive with those who try to belittle her because she was abandoned as a baby. No adults seemed to want to help them in this regard - they sent Bam and Starkey off to be unwound in the end, because their status as storks and the lack of affection from everyone in their lives came to be too much, and their anger was no longer contained and internalized. Bam lived - but Starkey ultimately died because he, more than anything, wanted to be something other than a stork to be unwound, who wouldn’t amount to anything.

But that’s not the point here, really. Connor doesn’t know Bam or Starkey, let alone that Starkey will die at his only remaining hand. He’s not panicking because someone he knows is a stork, and is suffering because of it. Someone he knew was a stork, and died because not a single person in his neighborhood cared about keeping him alive.

A baby was put on the doorstep of Connor’s parents. They knew why he was there - they had been storked, and they were now legally, and morally, obligated to take in the baby as their own.

But they already had a seven year old and a four year old! Two boys, no less! They had no need for a third son. Surely no one had seen them be storked by whatever irresponsible girl had gotten herself pregnant and given her baby up to good, hardworking people, who shouldn’t have had to bear the burden of her bad decisions.

Surely no one would notice if they just moved the baby to the doorstep of the neighbors. Surely they wouldn’t mind raising a son.

But no one said a damn thing.

Two weeks later, the baby boy showed up on the Lassiter’s doorstep - again.

He was visibly sick, so close to death that only then, out of pity for the infant, did the Lassiter parents take him in. He died in the hospital - most likely alone, having never known a world in which he was wanted. He never knew a world in which he wasn’t passed from porch to porch, doorstep to doorstep, suffering, alone and sick, because of the silence and apathy of everyone around him.

Everyone in the neighborhood came to the baby’s funeral, a funeral that was only held because it would have looked terrible for the Lassiter parents to not hold a funeral for the baby that died on their watch, and was technically their son. And they all cried. They knew they were all responsible for that baby boy dying, so they cried and cried, never admitting guilt, never admitting that one of them could have saved the baby’s life - and they chose not to.

Connor was only seven when the baby died. And yet, at sixteen, the death of the baby still haunts him. And here he is, face to face with the same situation. There is a baby on a doorstep - and the recipient of this precious gift is complaining about having to care for another unwanted child.

He remembers the death of the baby who could have been his neighbor, or his baby brother, if anyone around him had showed an ounce of compassion. A horrible thought strikes him.

This baby could suffer the same fate.

Connor is already so close to death himself. He could be caught by juvies at any moment. If he gets caught, Risa and Lev could die, too.

But, if he doesn’t act now, so could the baby.

So he goes to save her. He confronts the recipient of the storked child with no real plan. He just wants to save the baby. He can’t let another baby die because of human selfishness and apathy.

Risa steps in, making up a lie that she and Connor are the baby’s parents, and tells the recipient that she’ll take her baby back. Risa is furious with Connor, and chews him out. What could make him do a stupid thing like that? The three of them could be caught at any moment, and a screaming, crying baby isn’t going to make escaping persecution any easier.

But Connor couldn’t let Didi die.

Unwind came out in 2007 - it celebrated its seventeenth birthday last November. Unwind is now so old that, if it was a teenager, it couldn’t be unwound itself! So why bring up a well-known scene from the very start of the book.

Like the book itself, it comes back to Neal Shusterman.

@nealshustermanreal - remember what you wrote. While The Schwa Was Here might have been your first critically acclaimed book, Unwind is why you’re here today - why you are anything to anyone. And while all your books (that I’ve read) have complex themes of morality, like the anecdote I just mentioned above, remember that Unwind is what most people who know you, know you from. They know about Baby Lassiter, and they know about baby Didi. They know that silence, apathy, and complacency does more harm than good - they know that because of you.

And yet, here you are. People are dying in droves, and the people that aren’t dying are being injured, having their homes destroyed, being forced to watch their loved ones die, or otherwise being terrorized. Palestinians are dying. And yet, you wait over two months to say anything about it. You wait until your book tour, promoting a graphic novel you wrote about another genocide, is over. You send out an email quietly, an email that only those who are subscribed to your newsletter will see. And your statement seems to be an afterthought, squeezed between a paragraph on how you approach presenting your books on tour, and links to where you can buy a signed copy of your new, shiny graphic novel about genocide. And this is what you say.

Most of your fans, at least on this platform, know of this email. We’ve all seen it. But I want to focus on that last part.

“I’ve taken a stand - by refusing to feed that mentality. The situation is tragic for everyone. We need empathy everywhere.”

You are being selfish. You wish to try to see why both Israel is justified in their slaughtering of Palestinians, and why Palestinians don’t deserve to be slaughtered. This is not a topic in which you can have your cake and eat it, too. Either you support the country who has proven that they will continue to murder Palestinians, destroy every aspect of their culture, and bomb every place that Palestinians cherished and loved, or you denounce that. Your refusal to acknowledge that the citizens of Palestine are the current targets in a genocide, to acknowledge that Israel will call anything or anyone they don’t like “Hamas” to slaughter them without criticism, and to acknowledge that all of this was the result of Israel wanting to destroy Palestine does not paint you as someone who is refusing to feed a black-and-white mentality. It paints you as someone who, because they aren’t being directly affected by this genocide, doesn’t think it’s their problem. That, by definition, is apathy.

This isn’t a perfect comparison by any means, but.

You are leaving Didi to die.

[unloveful]

hi, everyone! i go by min ( twenty2, he + she ) and i’m bringing park saeroi to everyone’s doorstep. ♡ ( if you’ve seen the anime nana, you might notice some similarities between osaki nana + ren & saeroi. they’re my primary sources of inspiration, with my additional touch of angst and twist. ) i hope you enjoy saeroi’s character as much as i enjoyed planning him out. i’m excited to write with everyone, so please leave a like on this post if you’re interested in plotting, and i’ll come to you asap!

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀about. memories. connections.

starting points.

park saeroi, born on december 25. currently 24. a dance instructor at divine dance studio, and resides in unit #08 on floor 05. remembers a little about the former life.

versatile + talented / stubborn + paranoid.

he’s a little difficult to get along with at first due to the negative traits overlapping the positive, but he is loyal to who he holds close.

the only current memory unlocked is the passion for music, dance and the arts.

the rest of his memories pertain mostly to the sacrifices he made to chase his dreams, and the consequences that came from those choices. he’s unsure how he feels about having to remember them — maybe he doesn’t want to.

he tends to dabble in painting during his free time, but the things he paints are portraits without a face — nowhere to be found but simply, scribbled out. wilted roses with sharp, sharp thorns. or the perception of loneliness.

he has a knack for fashion sense, a lover of mixing and matching. but if there’s one thing that doesn’t get taken off, it is the ring on his finger that is branded by vivienne westwood. and he loves online shopping. so don’t be surprised at the one too many packages that wait in front of his door almost every other week.

plots + connections.

admittedly, i don’t have the brain juice for extensive plot ideas as i’m more chemistry based than anything and am open to almost whatever, but i would love to explore:

friends, neighbors, rivals, enemies.

maybe someone who’s sick of the constant deliveries that get sent to their door instead of saeroi’s?

someone who’s been with him since he got to ansong, but has always struggled with communication so their relationship constantly goes through a bit of a rollercoaster!

party buddies ( he’s a bit of an alcoholic ), stray cats feeding buddies.

while he isn’t fond of the idea of commitment, with no idea why, i’d love for saeroi to take interest in someone just to continue pulling away because of the awkward sensation that this person isn’t right for him. build trust! crack him open!

[brightlotusmoon]

On FB a couple of years ago, a friend talked about that concept of meeting the conservatives at a halfway point with their own language and how they interpret words - and how it is pointless to do so if the conservatives refuse to use leftist language without making us sound like gum on their shoes.

Like, this guy on FB, S. The fifty year old Star Wars fan who complains about lesbian space witches and people of color making him feel sick to his stomach, while being shocked when he was told he was being offensive. As soon as I called him out for the racism etc, he called me "typical whiny leftist freak" and insisted that he was tolerant of everyone. When I explained how "Star Wars was always woke" and quoted his words back at him "I don't understand how you can't see that" he just kept saying he never meant to offend. When I called him cute and said he was unwilling to examine his prejudices, he said that I didn't have to use such big words, that he just saw this on his FB feed and commented his opinion, it was a free country. I said "I don't want to teach you things you should already know but here are some articles" and S said he might look at them later.

One of our neighbors is kind of similar. She's in her early 50s and was smothered and hidden by a family ashamed of her. Talk shows, soap opera, and dubbed anime were all she watched. She didn't remember anything she'd learned in school. And it's not that I don't want to have topical conversations, but I'm not responsible for her education.

[iguessitsjustme]

Tsukuritai Onna to Tabetai Onna Ep 1 & 2 Thoughts

This show won my liveblog poll by a large margin. I am very excited to watch this.Based on everything I’ve heard, I’m gonna love it. Let’s dive in!

Amateur? Girl…can you feed me? That looks absolutely delicious.

I wish I could say that I would help you eat that but I also would not be able to. Alas. But don’t worry. You will meet your soulmate soon and she will eat all of your food and I will be jealous.

Noisy neighbors go AWAY

I do not like how often people comment on the food/eating habits. “Is that all you’re eating?” even if said to a side character like…bro mind your business. I know the premise of the show but that…hits a nerve for me. I am constantly getting comments on how much/how little I’m eating. How about people mind their business. A simple “that lunch looks nice” is enough.

Noisy neighbors go away part 2

Girl I feel you. I feel you. You deserve better.

DID THAT MAN JUST ASSUME SHE NEEDS A SMALLER PORTION OF RICE THAN THE MAN WHO ORDERED THE SAME BECAUSE SHE’S A WOMAN???? Jail. Death. Immediate punishment.

Oh good his wife(?) scolded him for it. And she was such a sweetie about the whole thing. What an absolute gem of a person she is. I love her. I am ready to kill for her.

This is so adorably awkward. I love them. I love them both.

Oh short episodes. Okay one more today.

The show did not lie. She really does love to cook and she really does love to eat.

Is our cook eating anything though? A smaller portion for herself perhaps?

Noisy neighbors go away part 3

These two are already so good at communication. So, so good. I love them. Have I said that already? I’ll say it again. I love them.

Oh nooo she’s sick noooooo.

Out of pads and painkillers? Oh girl. Oh girl oh no. That’s rough. Let me swing by with some supplies you need. Including chocolate. And tea.

Okay something I love so much is (I swear I’ll learn names at some point) she asked what brand to get for the bads and painkillers. Other dramas I’ve watched (het ones tbh) have had similar plots but they always go for the cheap joke of the man standing in the feminine hygiene aisle and not having a clue but not bothering to ask. Asking is so simple and it proves that she cares more about actually taking care of her friend (so far) than being lauded for taking care of her.

Those rice balls look good. I want one. *stares longingly at all of the food*

The fact that she is the one who loves cooking and wants to cook for others and wants to be the one in the kitchen, but she’s saying this? As someone who doesn’t eat a lot? I sob. This is so good. So wholesome. So cute. I’ll be fine I swear.

This show is so good. I’m gonna stop here for today but I’ll be watching more tomorrow.

[agirlwholovesrockstars]

seasonal colds

☆ EDDIE MUNSON'S MASTERLIST ☆

❣ AGATHA'S MAIN PAGE ❣

Summary : you had a date but your body got other plans, your next door neighbor misses your sweet greetings

Word Count : not that long

Warnings : 18+ Neighbor!Eddie Munson x FEM!reader, language, use of y/n, reader and Eddie are both (21), Eddie kinda sneaked into reader's home but not in a creep way, I don't know how to put this but reader and Eddie are friends but not that close?, establishing a relationship, reader is really unwell (it's literally me on this fic lol- I'm sorry)

What to Expect : strangers to lovers, friends to lovers, set in the 80's, mostly, this is all fluffy goodness

Note To Reader : projecting myself here, please, let me have my indulgence 😭

Author Note : This year's Christmas season is interesting because, I got sick so bad that I had a fever, so, yeah, no worries- now, because after that atrocious event- THIS FIC IS BORN 🤩

MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYBODY, HERE'S SOME FLUFFY FIC JUST FOR YOU 🎄💓

"That's odd, Where is she?"

"What'd you say?" Dustin spoke over the phone's receiver

"Uh, it's- Y/N- I didn't saw her earlier and now- the sun's getting low still haven't seen her yet"

Eddie replies as he looks over at his window as he rest his back on the wall while holding the telephone

"Why don't you knock at her door to see her if she's okay?" Dustin suggests

"Dude, we're not that close"

"I mean- there's nothing wrong with checking- like come on- it's normal to care" Dustin scoffs

Eddie can picture his young friend rolling his eyes

"Yeah, yeah, I get it" he sighs

"She looked fine yesterday, I even helped to carry some of her stuff that she bought"

"From what I know is that she has a date"

Oh

"Well....maybe that's the reason why she isn't showing up, she got exhausted"

"Really? Exhausted from a date?"

"I'm just helping you out here, man"

"I'm a little worried- that's all"

"Look, if you really want to know of how she's been doing then just get out of there and see it for yourself"

Eddie went silence for a bit as he listens to his friend

"I know you, Eddie- you're like the epitome of endless worrying"

Dustin's right, like Eddie himself couldn't believe that he would agree on the kid

You're the best neighbor that he had on the building

If you had food, you will gladly offer him some, you always acknowledge him with the fullest and loving smiles ever

You even asked him everytime on how he's day went, Eddie can see the tiredness in your eyes but yet you still managed to be kind and thoughtful

Eddie on the other hand, after finding out that you had a date

He can't help but wonder

How it went?

Was it amazing?

Did you really go to that date?

"She left me a spare key to feed her cat, if she's going away for a couple of months"

"Use it"

"Isn't that like- trespassing?"

"But you knew each other"

"We don't knew each other that much, Henderson"

"Listen to me"

"I'm listening-"

"What if something else happened to her? Inside of her home?- What if she couldn't even bring help herself?"

"Woah, okay- you convince me enough"

Dustin chuckles "Okay, dude, take care"

"You too, bye"

He runs his hands through his face as he thinks his decision carefully

He groans as he picks up his jacket and grab your spare key

He went outside of his room and stop by at your door for a moment

He replays of what he just rehearsed inside of his head

"I'm only going to check on Y/N because it's so weird not seeing her often- I'm just making sure- that is all"

He nods to himself as he unlocks your door

"Hello? Y/N?"

He opens the door and when you didn't answer, he says

"Are you here? Are you home? I'm gonna bring myself inside"

He asks again "Where are you? Y/N? I just wanted to check you- if you're okay"

He closes the door as he puts your spare key on his pocket

He searches the whole place, your dishes are still in the sink, there a bit of trash in the dining table

He is now intrigued at the atmosphere of your home

He walks forward as he looks for you

He saw your bedroom door slightly open

He hesitates for a second, since it's your personal room

He shakes his head as he saw you there laying on your bed, he sighs of relief but you look different

You always looked effortless but something is off about you

He doesn't know if you're awake or just dozing off

He calls out your name again

He clears his throat "Y/N?"

You stirred and by the time you tried to move your body, your face grimaced

He noticed that "You okay?"

You finally started to open your eyes slowly

Your eyes are droopy and your forehead scrunches up

He doesn't even know what it means, is it because of annoyance or in pain?

You're still processing of what's going on

You just groaned and started shivering as you pulled the sheets on you quickly

"I feel cold" your voice is hoarsed

He gasped, his eyes goes wide, he finally realizes that you're sick

So, you didn't go on to that date

A part of him is relieved that you didn't come which is so wrong of him to feel that way because it's literally none of his business like yeah, you could do whatever you want but he hopes that he'll be the one or the first to take you out someday

He runs towards to you, he places his hand on your forehead

"You're burning up!"

You grunted when you complain about your joints hurting and you feel your whole body is on fire like it won't stop being in pain

Now, your ears are ringing and pounding in discomfort

You still haven't looked or even acknowledge the person that is in your room

Your fever is so high that you can't even get out of the bed easily

Your eyes are brimming with tears, you sniffle

Eddie knows what to do

He knows how to deal with this

"I'm gonna help you, Y/N, don't worry" he places his hand on top of yours as he let it linger for a while

He went at the nearest pharmacy and picked-up goodies in the convenience store

He's back at your place as he prepares a basin filled with water and a clean towel as he places the damp cloth on your forehead

He's so concentrated to making sure your fever won't go far enough as it was before, so, he keeps running the other damp cloth to your arms and neck all the important parts to make your fever go down

He shook his head in displeased look earlier when he check your temperature using the thermometer

He puts a cool fever on your forehead

In the middle of the night, sometimes, you sob in agony

"Make it stop, please- I don't want to feel this anymore"

"It's alright, Y/N, you're okay, I got you"

Eddie couldn't sleep properly knowing of how awfully you must've been feel all this time

You're still feel cold even you have loads of blanket that he lays on you

He finds your comforter and he immediately puts it on you

He smiles to himself a little when you get comfortable with your sickening situation

He even panicked when you're not responding, the time you get passed out

You just couldn't take it anymore

You swore to yourself that you really did blackout for a minute

When you moved a little bit, he muttered "oh- thank god"

He's shaking in fear that he thought he lost you

"You gotta fight it, Y/N- you have to"

You still haven't eaten anything yet besides only drinking water, not that you didn't want to- it's just- you're too afraid to eat anything without being specific on what meal because-

You might vomit of how worse you feel right now

Thankfully, you told him to order creamy chicken macaroni soup and burger with fries

He calls for delivery as soon as possible

and nope- you still have no idea of who's taking care of you

He joins you while eating very late dinner

"How you're feeling?"

Your body is in hell- you don't have to energy to even talk

"There's no improvements but finally I can eat"

He gives you a small smile on that as he continues to finish his food

After that you complained of how your head hurts and your chest clenches too much

Out of all the fatigue that you felt for the past couple of years before?

This is literally the worst of them than the New Year's 2022 sickness that you got

Your body literally saying "FUCK YOU"

You can tell the incoming migraine is coming right at your skull to hammer it aggressively

He's been staying here for the whole night, it's his first night at your room

Eddie is sitting right beside you for the first time tonight, he slept peacefully

You unintentionally hold onto his forearm that made him woke up from his slumber, his eyes went to concern automatically as he watches you

"everything it hurts, somebody help me" you cried out as you kept your hold on him

"I know, Y/N- it will be all over soon" he wraps his arms around you

He runs his fingers through your hair as he lulled you to sleep

He woke up and he took a mental note to change your clothes

He goes into your dresser, he picked an easy but comfortable pieces of clothing

"Y/N?"

You hum in response

"You need to change your clothes"

Your face turn crumpled and you let out a whine when you sit up

He gave you the clothes that he picked out for you, he said that he'll be back

Once, you get dressed and check yourself in the bathroom

You look fucking bad, you roll your eyes to yourself

He's back with a glass of water and a medicine on hand

"You have to drink this now, you'll be good since you've already eaten" he murmurs as he hands you the water

You nod in response as you drink the capsules

You went back to bed as you settle your comfortable

You're still struggle to make a decent sleep since you really just can't do it because of how everything feels sucks right now

The medicine and the cool wind from outside helped you to feel drowsy

You can feel your eyes closing on its own as you finally getting a good night's sleep

You woke up drenched in your own sweat and you feel a lot more better than before

But, still there's more ache left but it's more good than not having any progress of healing

The sound of the soft snores from another person caught your attention

You looked around and there you saw him sleeping in your couch with a blanket that is too short for him

Your mind finally registered the things that he has done for you

The basin, the damp towels, the wrappers from the food delivery, the glass and the medicine, everything

Despite, there's still pain left that you're feeling right now, you smile at Eddie

You watch him as you can feel yourself feeling sleepy again

"It's a Wonderful Life!" playing in your television as Eddie watches with a popcorn bowl on his hand

Eddie can hear the rustles from your comforter as saw your eyes fluttering open

"Oh, hey, Y/N! Did you sleep well?"

"Hi, Eddie, yeah- I did" you managed to say as your cheeks blushed

You're so embarrassed that he took care of you for a while, he really didn't have to do that

His eyes go big when he heard you say his name "You- you're okay! You just said my name!" He grins as he goes over to you assisting the pillow as you sit up

"Not really, 100% tho- I still feel like shit"

He tilts his head at you as he puts his hand on your forehead

"Yeah, you still a bit warm but I think you'll be fine sooner!" He claps both of his hands as he returns watching the film

You gasped out of nowhere as you realized something, you removed the comforter off of you as you sit on the edge of your bed

"Woah- woah you have to move easy, what's the sudden rush?" Eddie holds both of your shoulders to steady you as you stumble while standing up too fast

You click your tongue "I was supposed to attend this date, remember?"

He puts his hands inside of the pockets of his jacket "Ah, right- that one"

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion as you groan in frustration

"Fuck, that was yesterday"

"Yuuuuuup!" Eddie says with a "pop!" at the end

You stand awkwardly in front of him as you sigh, he watches you intently

"What am I going to do? I blew it up because of me getting sick" you shake your head to yourself as you sat back down on your bed

"Well...." He sat beside you as he thinks for a few minutes

His hands itches to touch you and hold you

Before he can say anything, you spoke first

"How long I've been sick?"

"One day"

You huffed as you bring your attention back on the TV and then you turn your head back at him as he already been staring at you

"Oh- gosh- I'm sorry that's so rude of me! I just wanna say Thank you, Eddie!" You rambled

A smile grows on his lips "It's nothing really, I mean- I insist and I want to help you" he ducks his head down, he suddenly became shy on your gaze

"I just missed seeing you and not knowing what is happening to you, scared me"

"Really?" Your eyes twinkle and he flustered

"Y-Yeah" He clears his throat, trying to cover up his nervousness

"Don't beat yourself up for not going on to that date, Y/N" he says softly

Your eyes softens as you let him hold your hand

Oh- you like Eddie- that's why the universe didn't let you go on to that date

"I wanna spend my Christmas with you, Eddie"

"You do?" He says in disbelief tone, his eyes shines as he watches you get up

"I'm gonna make hot chocolate with whipped cream- it's my favorite!" You giggled with excitement radiating on your aura

You tug his hand as you went into your kitchen for two mugs

Your heart flutters of how much he cares for you while you're working on the luscious drink, it's really sweet because he knows that you're still not okay, you're still recovering

You taught him how to use the can whipped cream and you mischievously make a dot onto his nose and you laugh

You accidentally smeared the cream on the sides of your lips and Eddie made it even more worse that he exclaimed that he didn't know there's still chocolate on his fingers

Both of your laughter's died down when something in the air has changed

It's started snowing outside, you swear your heart expands three times bigger of how long he stares at you

You feel safe and sound under his presence

Why'd you haven't taken a good look on this before? Sure, he looks attractive but you never thought you could feel something for him

Eddie is ready to take the leap or else he'll miss his chance

You both looked funny having sticky and sweet contents on both of your faces

He runs his thumb on your lips as his eyes darts back at you and down to your lips

You thought stopped breathing but it's only Eddie's lips onto yours

You kissed him back, he deepens it, he pulls you close to him by holding your waist as you cup both of his cheeks

You're shocked and screaming inside

Who would've thought that the one you loved is your next-door neighbor?

You never thought that this would happen

You both pulled back with giggles as he takes you back for another sweet kiss which you gladly accept

"How does it taste?"

You ask while you watch him as he turns on the radio and "The Christmas Song by Nat King Cole" starts playing, a fond smile is sitting on your lips

He literally went down to your mouth to kiss which you laugh because he misunderstood on what you mean but you can't help but to kiss him back

"No! Not that- I mean- the hot chocolate!" You lightly push him on the chest as he chuckles, he pulled you to his side closely

"It's magical" he always exaggerates his words

You're infuriated at him

"Eddie, come on- be serious"

"It's really spectacular, Y/N" he pecks your kiss once more removing your cute little frown on your face

"You know I'm really glad that I checked on you"

"Yeah?"

"I finally got my Christmas wish come true"

You both sipped the warm beverage as you continue to watch the classic Christmas film of all time with both loving hearts and smiles

🎄✨🫶🏻

[ququb444hm]

thanks a lot, cupid

part 03 / stuck w me ☆

masterlist

warning(s): possible typos

“I finished school!” yn chimed, entering the all too familiar shinrinyoku flower shop. sweet scents of various flowers swallowed her whole as she whispered a few greetings to the blooming friends– cecily is a strong believer that talking to plants encourages them to grow faster. 

“hey there peaches,” cecily smiled, walking over to the university student to give her a tight squeeze. “I’ve been so lonely the whole day without you!” she whined, “do you really have to go back to that torturous establishment tomorrow!?”

“for a whole year!” yn groaned, “if I could, I would just stay here with you all day, but then you’ll get sick of me.”

“who’s to say I’m not already sick of you,” cecily joked, “so tell me, how was your first day as a junior? did you get into a fight? argue with a teacher? omg…did kozume finally confess his undeniable feelings for you that he’s been harboring since forever!? are the two of you married with three kids yet!?”

yn slumped onto a nearby chair, “oh you’re terrible for feeding me with delusions. but no nothing like that…well! actually,” a lovesick smile etched its way on yn’s face, her feelings for the blonde painting her cheeks with a rich red hue, “kozu and I have the same chemistry class! and we sit right next to each other!” yn groaned, legs kicking the air to exert all the built-up energy inside her body, “I just can’t wrap my head around him. he plays volleyball, guitar, and has a cat! but he’s not a hot loser with no friends! he’s a hot loser with friends! this is so bad, cece!”

“even worse,” a new voice chirps, the bell of the glass door chiming to signal a new person’s presence, “he’s friends with your ex and your brother!”

“oh shut up tetsu!” yn wailed, rolling her eyes at her brother, “go fall in a ditch!”

“and miss all your little girl talk about kozume? as if.”

“you secretly like being part of our ‘girl talk’, don’t you?” cecily smirked.

“what can I say, I’m a feminist.”

yn and cecily choked up a laugh, entering a fit of laughter that could be heard from the outside of the flower shop.

“what’s got the two of you squawking like dying birds?”

“oh shut up atsumu,” tetsurou slapped the back of the blonde’s head, earning an annoyed groan from the victim.

the two alongside koutarou and shoyou entered the flower shop, beads of sweat rolling down their foreheads and slightly raspy voices indicating they just raced their way from the university campus to the nearby store. “hi nn! hi cece!” shoyou greeted, his usual bright smile slightly blinding the two.

“hi shoyou, you’re even cuter since the last time I saw you!” cecily gushed, squeezing the sophomore’s cheeks. “I haven’t seen you all summer!” shoyou giggled at the woman’s antics, secretly liking when people compliment how cute he was.

“what about me! aren’t I cute today?” tetsurou whined, pushing the shorter boy aside.

“aw, you’re such a bit baby tetsu!” cecily laughed, giving her boyfriend his much-needed attention.

“oh barf!” yn gagged, averting her eyes from the couple’s pda. “save me, kou! they’re so sweet it’s giving me a cavity, it’ll ruin my pretty smile!” 

the boisterous upperclassman grinned, an idea popping into his mind. “let’s meet your friends at flour men! I saw them on my run here!” flour men, a bakery down the street, was a usual hangout spot for the group of friends, besides the flower shop which was starting to get busy due to students flooding in.

saying casual goodbyes to tetsurou and cecily, the remaining three made their way over to the neighboring bakery. “I spot mori!” shoyou giggled, pointing at the libero.

entering the bakery, the trio made their way to mori, rintarou, and koushi. “hello, pretties!” yn beamed, sliding into the booth that the friends were already seated in. 

“you had a good first day?” koushi questioned, sliding the donuts he just paid for over to the new company, “we were looking for you once class ended but it everything was getting crowded so we thought to just meet you here as usual.”

yn grabbed a donut out of the bag, melting once the familiar tastes met her tongue, “so good~” she moaned, taking another bite before answering her friend, “super, super! tiring, but it was okay! I like my morning classes and I have two night classes at seven and eight which is nice.”

the group conversed about their first day back and recent summer events, laughing at how atsumu’s swimshorts got torn up by koutarou’s great dane, drax the destroyer, or how yn traveled with mori and rin to france for an art internship or how the current seniors (tetsurou, koutarou, atsumu, koushi, tooru + cecily) all had a bonfire the weekend before school started again and koutarou had to fart so bad that he literally blew the fire out.

all in all, memorable occasions before a poorly, yet hopefully comedy filled kozume kenma x fem!reader <3

key: nn - nickname

part 02 surrounded by homosexuals <- | masterlist | -> part 04 fnaf

note(s): none of the pictures used are mine!!

[luq-s1m0ns]

Chapter one (pt.2): Pigeon Pancakes

Sypnosis: First chapter (pt.2)

(how am i still sick??? After a whole week!)

[That had all changed a year ago though when one morning Simon had woken up to the sounds of conversation, making him think his neighbor was blaring the TV. Instead, much to his shock, he had discovered that it wasn’t the TV at all—it was the pigeons on the fire escape outside his window. Not only could he understand everything they were saying, but they could understand everything he said in return.]

“Boom,” Ariana mimicked, making an explosion gesture with her hands, “you’re one of us now, Si.” She smiled and lightly tugged at his braids.

Winter snorted, “You’re making us sound like a cult, ‘Ana.”

“One of us, one of us!” Simon chanted, making Jam and Ariana join in amusement while Winter scoffed fondly at her friends.

“You’re so weird, you guys.” She smiled.

“As if you’re not the same, Winter!” Simon grinned, reaching over and tugging gently at her braids, “you’re one of us too,”

“Unfortunately,” She laughed, tugging at hair as well before both of them let go.

[It wasn’t just pigeons, either. Simon could talk to the tomcats that prowled the alleyway, the rats that scavenged in the Dumpsters, and even the mosquitoes he swatted away during the summer. He had thought he was going crazy—he still wasn’t sure he hadn’t cracked—but ever since then, animals had flocked to Simon, and it had become increasingly difficult to keep his secret from Darryl.]

“You’re practically a Disney Princess, dude.” Jam grinned, “Wanna sing for us?”

Simon paused before asking with a shy smile, “Hm, maybe later?”

“Yeah, sure.” Ariana grinned, “Princess.” She added as Simon rolled his eyes.

“Yes, yes, bow down to the princess, little girl.” Simon said haughtily, smothering his laughter with his hands as his friends let out their snickers, “or it’s off your heads— I can’t ,” he choked, giggling with them.

[Thankfully his uncle, who was tall with broad shoulders, was a much stronger and more intimidating man than Simon could ever hope to be, and most animals were scared of him without Simon having to resort to empty threats.]

”Told you threatening people work,” Ariana grinned, nudging Simon with her elbow.

“Never said you were wrong, only that it wasn’t necessary.” Brows raised his answer, wondering the context.

“Same thing,”

[He didn’t fully understand why Darryl hated animals so much, but Simon was fairly sure it had to do with the scars that riddled his uncle’s body, including the angry red one that ran down his left cheek. No matter how many times Simon asked, however, his uncle never talked about how he’d gotten them.]

“You’re quite observant, Simon,” Vanessa commented, pulling her curly hair back.

Simon shot her a small smile and nodded, “Thanks,”

[“I’ll have food for you later,” said Simon to the pigeons. “But not—”

Suddenly a strong breeze burst through his window, and several of the pigeons squawked and flew away.]

Winter shot him a mock, disappointed look, “did anyone ever tell you never to feed strays?”

“Yeah, but I got an obedience streak.” Simon grinned, “plus, that’s how I met Felix,”

“That’s not a good comeback,” She snorted.

[Before Simon could feel too relieved, however, a golden eagle landed in the space they had vacated.]

“See, that’s why I hate birds; they just love occupying spaces they don’t belong in,” Winter hissed with no malice.

Simon stuck out his tongue, “Hey! I’m part bird, and so are you!” He squawked, sounding like a chicken instead of an eagle.

“And?” She grinned, making Simon roll his eyes and flip her off, causing her to laugh, “so mature, Simon, so mature.”

“More mature than you, that I know,” Simon bit back, smiling at her. Nolan bit his tongue, watching how casual the conversation went between them.

[Simon froze. He had never seen an eagle in person before. Some of its feathers stuck out at strange angles as if it had been in a skirmish recently, and Simon could see it was missing an eye.]

“Stalker behaviour,” Jam quipped, narrowing his eyes at the screen, “Your grandpa’s a creep, Si and Wint,”

Winter scrunched her face, “he’s not my grandfather!” She exclaimed, her voice raising a note.

“He’s mine, sadly,” Simon sighed, not bothering with a witty response as he leaned the back of his head on Jam’s shoulder, “Leo’s the only grandparent I know that I’ll acknowledge, biologically, of course. He added, causing Leo to smile involuntarily.

[The remaining pigeons shifted nervously, and Simon frowned. “Listen, I don’t have anything for you yet. If you come back in thirty minutes—”

“I’m not interested in food,” said the eagle in a lofty voice.]

“Shocker. A stray animal doesn’t want food.” Simon scowled, sitting up before Jam pulled his back down.

“Hey, calm down. He’s not worth your anger.” He cooed, adjusting the placement of Simon’s waves with one hand as he wrapped an arm around his waist, “He’s not worth it, right?”

Simon nodded, sighing as he slumped back, “Right, Jam.”

[“Then what do you want?”

The eagle turned his head so he could see Simon with his good eye. “You’re in grave danger, Simon Thorn. If you don’t come with me at once—”]

“Has no one ever taught you to not trust strangers?” Ariana snorted as she pulled on his curls, making him lean forward, and she gently swatted Simon’s head.

Simon stuck out his tongue at her, pulling back, “Hey! They taught that with the human kind, not the animal kind! And, to be fair, I learned the crowbar and pocket knife talk along with martial arts.”

“Yeah, the talk was when you were eight, Simon,” Darryl snorted while Isabel frowned. Multiple adults apart from those who belonged to the insect kingdom— frowned, wondering why a child had to learn that talk or what that even was, “martial arts was just something Mr. Hartz got you in.”

“And you said pépère was not a good influence,” Simon teased, smirking as he twirled a collapsing braid around his finger, “Guess you owe him an apology, Darryl.”

“Guess I do, Simon.” He sighed, slumping his shoulders and lowering his head before his eyes met Simon’s in a kind gaze.

“Darryl, why has my son learned the crowbar and pocket knife talk?” Isabel scowled, turning to her brother-in-law, who raised her eldest. Luke’s fists tightened in rage— his son didn’t need to learn that talk at such a young age.

“Wait, wait— can someone please tell me what is the crowbar and pocket knife talk?” Nolan asked, feeling stupid at not knowing what that was, “and what does pépère,”—he pronounced it off, making Simon’s face cringe at the nostalgia of his experience learning French—“mean?”

“Pépère means old man in French, it comes from the word ‘Grand-père’ or Grandfather,” Simon explained. Nolan nodded while the three with Simon smiled, “It’s usually used as an endearment for one’s grandpa— and since Mr. Hartz was French, he let me call him that.”

“And the talk?”

Malcolm sighed, “Since New York is really busy, kids can get kidnapped, or other things happen easily there. So, a group of moms came up with a solution: the crowbar and pocket knife talk. Once they find out their child is being watched by adults and or stalked, they are taught how to use a pocket knife and given one. The crowbar part is teaching their child how to use anything they see as a weapon. The kids are also taught to recognise the attention that their parents are seeking to protect the kid from, and if they get cornered by someone who’s showing that behaviour, they react violently.”

“Yep. And unfortunately, I left my pocket knife with Darryl before running away with Winter.” Simon said, smiling at the girl before shooting a look at the man, who fished it out of his pocket. Simon grinned and ran over—tripping over his feet twice before cradling the knife in his smooth palms, “Thanks, Darryl!” He said before running back into his spot on Jam’s lap.

“H-hold on, Simon, you were eight when you had to get that talk?” Harriet, a jellyfish animalgram, sputtered, her eyes wide as she and everyone else stared at him.

Simon blinked, a curious expression on his face, and nodded, “Yeah, animals and mortals liked to stalk me, and… stuff… Why?”

“That’s— just unbelievable, you know?”

He shrugged, leaning more heavily on Jam, “It’s a cruel world out there, and as my sister had once told me, ‘Stay strapped or get strapped.”

“I knew letting you stay with Shayla was a bad idea, but noo,” Darryl bemoaned, massaging his temples, “you said that either way, you’d know.”

“But she was right, no?” Simon’s lips curled into a wide, mischievous grin—much like his father’s—making those close to Luke’s face either soften or tightened while Luke’s eyes softened at how similar he and his eldest looked, “it was better to learn sooner than later, right?” Darryl groaned but made no other comment.

“You ever used those moves of bullies?” Winter grinned, though worriedly.

Simon smirked, his dimples showing, “Duh. Of course, you thought I managed to give Bryan Barker a run for his money without some type of proper training?”

“Fair enough.” She and the two others on the couch nodded.

[masterwords]

it's here in the ashes

Summary: Sam Cooper was many things. He was an exemplary leader, an intuitive field agent, a brilliant mind. He was a calm presence amid a raging storm, someone who always knew what to say and when to say it...but more importantly, when to keep quiet. He was many things, but if you asked Hotch he’d probably just say that Sam Cooper was a great friend. This is just a snapshot of that friendship. (Coda to 5x01, my usual haunting ground)

Pairing: None (but you could say Hotch/Morgan...it's heavily implied but not explicitly said, basically just like canon)

Words: 5.6k

Warnings: religious (christian) overtones, church, stab wounds, medication, pain (post foyet stabbing y'know y'know)

Notes: I've wanted to write more about Hotch & Sam's friendship. Sam, if you don't remember, is from 5x18 - The Fight and the Unit Chief of the Red Cell team in the spinoff Suspect Behavior. I'll probably start a whole series dedicated to all these one-off characters that are so beloved to me so they're all in one place. Hotch needs friends, yo. And anyway, he's so cute with Cooper that I really need to explore more of that.

No one came to see him after he was released from the hospital.

The team were busy, they sent texts and more than once take-out meals so he didn’t have to cook, but no one came by. He knew it probably had a lot more to do with him than them. He could picture Garcia worrying herself sick over whether to pop by to check on him or bring him a plate of cookies, and he could picture Dave telling her to do what she thought was best. Well, that resulted in a lot of well meaning texts and nothing more.

He was fine with that, too. He didn’t particularly want company. Didn’t much feel like conversation, like being under the watchful eye, like being pitied.

Jessica was coming by, out of some strict (and utterly insane if you asked Hotch) sense of duty more than anything. She was angry at him for sure, angry and indignant but she helped him change his bandages and made sure he took his medications. “For Jack,” she muttered when he asked her one particularly bad night why she insisted on showing up every single day when he knew she didn’t want to be there. When he knew she had better things to do. Her neighbor was feeding her cat so she could clean up wounds on a man she could barely stand to look at. “Because he’s going to need a dad to come home to. Now swallow the damn pill and go to sleep.”

Her anger lasted about a week. She never had managed to focus on one thing for very long – her fire burned hot and fast. She’d picked him up from the hospital and brought him home, and for that whole week she was frustrated and short with him, asking him why he didn’t just call his mother or Sean to come and help because he was more or less incapable of just about every activity of daily living. He stubbornly maintained he could do it on his own, and for what it was worth, he did. Not well, and he definitely shouldn’t have been doing any of it, but he didn’t see as he had much choice in the matter. She knew it too, and that fact alone kept her coming back to check, afraid one day she’d show up and find him face down on the floor bleeding out. So, it was a week of burning anger and then slowly it melted into something not so hot. Not so sharp. She began sitting with him for an hour, turning on the TV or cleaning his bathroom, asking how he was feeling with more than just a clinical interest. Remembering that she did love him too, in spite of his rampant stupidity. In spite of his...well everything about him.

But he didn’t seem to make any real progress toward rejoining the living until Sam Cooper showed up on his doorstep.

“Hi,” he said, extending his hand to Jessica with the bright smile of someone who sleeps and eats and works out at regular, healthy intervals. Something foreign at the moment to both she and Hotch who had more or less become couch potatoes. She was eating enough for two (there were a lot of feelings to be stuffed into a bowl of cereal that quickly became two bowls at 10pm whens he couldn’t sleep), he wasn’t eating at all (meds and pain and stubborn refusal to do anything that resembled living). It wasn’t a great situation. “I’m Sam, a friend from work.”

“Sam Cooper,” she said with a tired smile. “I’ve heard stories. I’m Jessica.”

“Right. Ex-wife’s sister?”

“That’s the one. Do you need something from him? He’s asleep right now.”

Sam smiled again and shrugged. He carried himself with such a laid back swagger that she couldn’t help the way her own shoulders loosened in his presence. “Nah. I just wanted to check up on him. Thought I’d give it a week or so for him to be home before I came knocking. He can be a little skittish.”

“Oh, yeah, well...why don’t you come in? I’m sure he’d love to see you. Or anyone really that isn’t me barking at him.”

“Has he had many visitors?”

“Well counting you and me...two.”

Sam nodded and clasped his hands behind his back, fingers gently pulling at the prayer beads he kept around his wrist as he took in the apartment. He’d been here more than once, helped Hotch move a few boxes here and there. More to check up on him, support him through his time of need than actual help – he’d had movers do most of the heavy lifting. Ultimately the place didn’t look much different but it felt different. It felt wrong. He could see Foyet there by the washer, feel his presence as he got to know the intimate details of Hotch’s place while he was away...how long was he here? Did he leave anything behind?

The apartment smelled stale but clean, closed windows and bleach. There were banker boxes piled up where he supposed a china hutch or some nice piece of furniture might look better, and there were case files covering a table that was more for show than for eating. He thought about Jack, wondered if he might find some renegade legos stashed beneath the couch or a crayon on a bookshelf. He wondered if Foyet went into Jack’s room, if he dug through Hotch’s entire life while he was away.

“That’s about what I expected,” he said finally, as if coming out of a long trance.

“Really? I honestly thought that his team would be here all the time. The way he is about them, you know? That they’d be hanging around and getting him to work and…”

“I talked to Agent Morgan this morning before I made the decision to come by. He said he’s been texting with Hotch every day but he’s afraid of opening up too many lines of communication because Hotch needs to rest and heal, and his instinct is always to pour himself into work as quickly as possible.”

“So they’re protecting him from himself by not coming? Is that what they think they’re doing?” She couldn’t mask her disgust. He gave up his marriage for them and they couldn’t even bother stopping by to check on him.

“I said that’s what Morgan said. I don’t know about the rest of them, don’t really know ‘em. Morgan comes and works out in my gym every day. How is he?”

“Well. He’s lonely and grouchy. In a lot of pain and pretty angry about it.”

“How long have you been here?”

“All morning. I practically live here now.”

Sam continued his pass through inspection of Hotch’s place and frowned at the spot on the carpet that was covered by an out of place looking rug. Jessica wouldn’t look at it. “That’s where...I guess they couldn’t get the stain out…I brought a rug from my place. I know it’s stupid, putting that there. It’s a bath mat, it looks silly it’s just…they said it would be a couple of weeks before they could get someone out to replace that spot with new carpet.”

“You should go, take some time to yourself. Have some lunch, a nap, something. I’ll handle him when he wakes up.”

She scrunched her nose and he had the distinct impression that she’d known Hotch a long time, a very long time, and through her aloof exterior she cared very much and maybe didn’t want to leave. She was protective of him, that was for sure.

“If you want,” he followed it up with a cautious smile. “I only want to help.”

That made her features soften into a halfway smile. “I could use a shower.”

Sam busied himself by putting away all of Hotch’s case files, clearing off his table. It was a task Jessica had mentioned wanting to do but not knowing where to start. “I think he just leaves them there because they make him feel something. He doesn’t do anything with them. I covered a few up because the pictures were…” she shook her head in disbelief. “I covered them up. That probably makes me a terrible person.”

“You said they’re going to be a couple of weeks on the carpet replacement?”

“Yeah. I couldn’t let him come out here and see that every day. And I know it sounds stupid because they cleaned it really well but if I can see it...I feel like I can smell it.”

“Doesn’t sound stupid. I can smell it. I’m going to make some calls, we can get that taken care of.”

“They said that it got into the sub floor and all of the padding, the whole thing has to be replaced. He was there...it was…”

“I understand. I’ll take care of it.”

Sam’s presence was calming to her, and when she finally slung her purse over her shoulder and left she felt almost at peace for the first time in a week. (Had it only been a week since he’d been home from the hospital? It felt like a century, and maybe it was when you measured it in calculated breaths and medication timers and bandage changes.)

By the time Hotch was shuffling down the hallway with all the grace of a starved zombie, not the 28 Days Later kind but the long suffering Romero zombies, Sam had tidied up all of the files and moved himself on to perusing the bookshelves until he found something that was just dull enough to stare at until his friend woke. He didn’t want to get engaged in anything, he wanted something easily cast aside. Something that would hold his attention with only the lightest grip. Hotch’s book collection had plenty to offer in that regard.

“Look what the cat dragged in,” Sam said with an easy smile, setting the book open-faced on his thigh. Hotch stared at him, unblinking, sleepy-eyed, pale and worn like an old bed sheet hung out to dry. He’d seen Hotch in plenty of bad situations but he’d never seen him so listless, so drained. So empty.

“Where’s Jessica?” he croaked in a voice that hadn’t been used for much more than moaning or complaining in the last few days. Jessica said he didn’t string many words together, one or two was about the limit of his conversational skills – everything else was more or less a series of whines, whimpers or grunts.

“She needed a shower. I stopped by at the perfect time I guess.”

Hotch grunted his disapproval at being blindsided by a change in caretaker and resumed his shuffle toward the kitchen. Sam watched with some intrigue, wondering how capable he was of whatever he had set out to do. He knew damn well Hotch wasn’t going to ask him to help, and truthfully he thought it was probably better if Hotch did things for himself. He suspected that Jessica was doing more than necessary, either out of fear or guilt or love it didn’t matter.

It was a glass of water he was after, and he managed after a full minute of trying to figure out the best way to raise his arm (one side was easier than the other, it turned out) and then it looked like he was going to be sick after the first drink but he continued anyway. Sam watched with interest while Hotch seemed to forget he was there momentarily, hunching over at the sink, resting one hand against the ledge and dropping his head. Sam thought about stepping in, about asking if he could do anything to help, but he knew Hotch well enough to see the folly in that idea. He let Hotch come to him, instead. Slowly he made his way through the kitchen, eyes dragging with suspicion over his newly cleaned table. He didn’t like it. Sam didn’t care.

“Did you do this?” he asked, reaching out with one unsteady hand to grab hold of the back of a chair. It was as far as he could go, and he fell heavily into the seat with a barely contained groan.

“Looks like it smarts,” Sam said, ignoring Hotch’s question. He knew the answer anyway. When Hotch didn’t acknowledge his comment, he leaned forward, elbows on his knees and looked at him earnestly. “I know you don’t wanna hear it, and I’d rather not have to say it but I’m sorry this happened to you.”

“I know.”

“So you pushin’ everyone away who wants to help?”

“They have better things to do. Agent Reid is also out, they’re short staffed.”

“We’re pickin’ up the slack. I’m working with Rossi and Morgan to divert your case load. We got it.”

Hotch nodded appreciatively. “Thank you. I’m hoping to return within the month.”

At that, Sam laughed. Hotch didn’t find it amusing. “What?”

“A month?! Hotch. Come on. I saw the pictures and the hospital chart – now, now, don’t get your feathers all ruffled, Rossi asked me to take the lead on your case. He didn’t want anyone from the team doing it, and he was adamant that an outsider shouldn’t do it. I guess you could call this a professional visit…”

“Yeah?”

“Well. In a matter of speaking.”

At that Hotch smiled. Sort of. It was just a little twitch at the corner of his mouth but it was something, probably more than he’d done in a while. It looked unnatural and stiff. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet. I’ve got something I need you to do with me. You up for a walk?”

“Do I look up for a walk?”

“You look like a ghost. You can’t haunt this place forever. You need some good old fashioned vitamin D...come on. Three blocks.”

Hotch knew where they were going, and he wanted to protest. Not for any real reason in particular, he’d been thinking of going himself. He loved it for the same reason Cooper did – it was peaceful there. Quiet. He could sit and hear himself think without the echoes and ghosts in his apartment, or he could sit and do nothing but stare up into the light refracted through brilliantly colored stained glass windows and marvel at the way that made him feel.

Small, it made him feel small. That’s what he’d tell Sam, if asked. And no, that wasn’t bad. In fact, as the world swirled around him, as his team texted him and people whose names he barely knew delivered flowers and baskets of well-wishes and foods he wouldn’t or couldn’t eat (but his neighbors would, and Jessica would) all he wanted was to feel small and insignificant again. Foyet had robbed him of many things, and right now if he could just feel small he might be able to see his way into the next day and the day after.

“You know where I’m taking you,” Cooper said, affecting a slow pace. Much slower than his usual clip, and still it wasn’t really slow enough for Hotch’s sluggish body. His bones were heavy, poured with concrete. He wasn’t really walking so much as dragging himself down the sidewalk. It was a strange lumbering walk, no real grace to it, stiff hipped and hunched at the shoulders. “You know exactly where we’re going.”

“I do,” Hotch replied, pushing his hands deep into the pockets of his jacket to hide their tremble. They shook a lot lately, maybe medication side effects, maybe nerve damage, maybe just that he was scared and hungry and sick all the time. The reason mattered very little to him anymore. It just was.

“Have you been already?”

“No.”

Cooper hummed and slowed his pace one click more, a welcome reprieve. Hotch slowed to match and took a deep breath.

Three blocks, only three blocks, but Cooper stopped and took a seat on a bench beside the bus stop a little over a block into the walk and Hotch followed. They didn’t speak while they sat, just stared across the street and watched the little coffee shop ebb and flow with the day’s patrons. Children being dragged in by their parents while they prattled about something that was very important to them and of little import to the parents on a mission for caffeine. A couple holding hands. A group of school aged girls. Some of Hotch’s neighbors, elderly couples that had formed a sort of walking group in the last few months. He’d joined them once or twice after being badgered relentlessly at the mailboxes for being a shut in. The problem, he told them, was that he spent so little time in his home that he desired the luxury of being a shut in. Still, he did need coffee so he reluctantly agreed.

After a few minutes, Cooper looked at Hotch expectantly and stood.

They made it to the church without saying another word, and Hotch stopped at the base of the steps and turned his whole face toward the sky. He stared at the steeple as it rose into the clouds, touched the heavens. He sucked in one quick breath and grabbed the railing before hoisting himself up one step at a time like he was climbing Mount Everest.

The last time he’d come, it was Easter. He had Jack’s little hand in his, it was his holiday weekend and they didn’t have a case. It wasn’t his first choice of holidays to have his son, but Haley wanted Thanksgiving and Christmas and since those are family holidays and Hotch didn’t care for spending much time in the company of his own, he’d taken Halloween and Easter. Well, that had been almost half a year before and he’d walked by these steps plenty of times and thought about coming in but he never did. There was plenty of guilt associated with that, just add it to the pile of guilt he lived with over everything else in his life.

It was creeping up on October now, and he knew in his heart that he wouldn’t get to have Halloween with his son. He might never get another holiday again – did he appreciate Easter for what it was? Maybe the last? He didn’t think so.

“Need some help?” Cooper asked when Hotch was halfway up. He shook his head and set his features with determination.

“I’ve got it.”

“Good.”

Hotch would have been content to sit in the back pew and stare silently forward, he had the best view of everything from there but Sam moved toward the front and he followed. This was Cooper’s adventure, after all. He’d done nothing but wake up and go to sleep, exist in a medicated half-life for a week now and if this was the way to regain his life...well he was willing to try it.

“It’s peaceful,” Sam said sitting down. Hotch took the seat beside him, close but not too close. Sam scooted closer to him, until their shoulders touched and he leaned himself back casually. Like this was his sofa at home and they were all set to watch the football game. “You made it.”

“Did you doubt me?”

Sam smiled. “I did, actually. You look like a man who hasn’t walked more than twenty steps in a week.”

“I am. I guess it’s like riding a bike.” He found that the smile he offered Sam wasn’t forced this time, and that lightened the tight feeling in his chest some. It was amazing the power some people held. That just Sam’s presence and faith in him, in his ability to still be the same man he was a week ago, would almost make him believe it too. Sam had always had that effect on him.

“Can I ask you a question?”

His answer was always yes, but he hesitated for a moment and then nodded. “Sure.”

“Did they ask you if you wanted to head up a Red Cell? Before they gave it to me? You were the natural choice.”

That wasn’t the question Hotch had imagined he would ask, but now it made sense. He was thinking about Foyet, about how all of this transpired and wondering if Hotch had any regrets about being so visible. About heading up the A team when he could have gone under the radar.

“They did.”

“And you said no?”

“I did.”

Sam leaned forward, fingering the prayer beads now dangling from his hands. Hotch watched in a sort of trance, the way his thumbs moved over the beads was rhythmic and enthralling. Hypnotic.

“Why? You like the red tape or what?”

He was in a church, and as such, he felt compelled not to let a lie dance on his tongue. Not to entertain those types of thoughts. Sam deserved his honesty. “I need rules. I need the red tape, even if I mean to fight against it sometimes. I need checks and balances. Sometimes I’m afraid of what might happen if I don’t have them.”

Sam could respect that answer, but then, he found it wasn’t hard to respect most of the things Hotch said or did. He needed rules because he feared his own darkness, and knowing what he did about Hotch’s past it made sense to him. Still, knowing Hotch as well as he did, he expected that he’d do just fine without the red tape...he didn’t trust himself, but he should.

“Do you regret it?”

“You mean do I regret it now that I’ve been victimized by the very thing I just said I needed?” That had been on Hotch’s mind. The rules. Arrest Foyet for what he did, make it right. Do what Shaugnessey didn’t, you hunt him and you catch him. But then...how long did that last? And was playing by those rules just playing into Foyet’s hand? This cycle was endless and it was killing him slowly, seeping from him what little sleep his exhausted body would allow him. And now he waited to see if Foyet killed again, and worse, who it was if he did. He was watching, Hotch knew that much. So was the FBI, he knew that too. There was a car parked on his block 24/7 with some poor low level Agent sent on an endless mission to stare at his apartment building as if Foyet would come back there. And were he and Cooper followed down here to the church? Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe Cooper cleared this whole adventure before even showing up.

“Not exactly, but sure. That’s where your mind went, I’d love to follow that rabbit down the hole. Assume I mean it that way. Do you regret it?”

“I hadn’t really considered it. Truth be told, I haven’t thought about much except that night.”

“Would you like to talk about it?”

“Absolutely not.”

Sam laughed. He did so with his whole body. “Fair enough. Morgan said you weren’t talking to anyone about it. But you know, you will have to talk to me about some of it...at some point. I am the official Case Agent.”

“How much have you spoken with Morgan?”

“Everything I just said and that’s what you take from it? Are you jealous?”

Hotch frowned, not sure how to answer that. Especially in a church with a man holding prayer beads. He trusted Sam Cooper implicitly, but his stomach lurched painfully.

“I’m teasing,” Sam said, as if Hotch didn’t catch that part. “He comes by my office every day. He’s struggling, Hotch.”

“Comes by your office for what?”

Sam definitely detected a hint of something in Hotch’s voice that sounded like jealousy. Not the kind that holds hands with suspicion or anger, just the kind that makes bedroom eyes at hope and despair.

“He’s coming to work out. To blow off steam. I’ve been training him in Kali, if you must know. He needs an outlet.”

Hotch smiled at that. “Better him than me.”

“You’re next.”

“I’m not cleared for strenuous activity or lifting more than 5lbs for at least the next three weeks...sorry.”

“I’ll mark it on my calendar. You need to double down on your hand to hand training.”

That didn’t sit well with Hotch and Sam could tell he’d crossed a line, if only unintentionally. He hadn’t lost the battle with Foyet because he couldn’t fight hand to hand, Foyet had the element of surprise and a gunshot that deafened and disoriented him. He had it all planned out.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply you could have done anything to prevent what happened. The man was in your home waiting for you, there was nothing more you could have done than what you did. You stayed alive.”

A woman’s voice echoed from somewhere above them, and then a man’s voice followed. Nothing more than sound waves bouncing off of statues and stained glass, not real words, but Hotch’s attention was drawn to the origin of the sound and he felt the hot sting of tears welling up in his eyes. Sam placed one hand on Hotch’s shoulder and the prayer beads fell against his chest, making a small wooden rattling sound that he felt deep in his bones.

“You stayed alive, Aaron. Maybe that’s why I brought you here. I nearly lost a friend, and I’m eternally grateful that I didn’t.”

“Why?” Hotch rasped around the thick feeling of emotion choking him. Why did Foyet want to keep him alive? Why had Foyet chosen him? There were no answers he could find in any of those files. Nothing he could use to make sense of what happened – what Foyet did to him, the parts that were in the file and the parts that wouldn’t be. The parts he remembered and the parts he didn’t.

“That information is above my pay grade, I’m afraid.”

“Has Strauss said anything to you?”

“You know she doesn’t want anything to do with me, not since the Director said my team reports directly to him. She felt slighted and I don’t blame her but I sure am glad. She asked me to help your team out. That’s about where it ended.”

“I think she’s hoping I won’t return. That I won’t pass a physical.”

Sam hummed and stood, beckoning for Hotch to follow him back out into the sunlight. “You’ll pass. I’ll make sure of it. I just need you to do something for me.”

“What’s that?”

“Call Morgan.”

Hotch looked at the stairs and grunted, reaching out for the railing. It was hot, the sun had baked it in the time they were inside and it burned against his palm as his fingers curled around it.

“For what?”

“Check up on him. Ask him how things are going. Ask him to meet you for dinner at that restaurant you both like, the little pho place across town.”

“I’m not cleared to drive.” It was a pitiful excuse, weak and lacking all feeling. He would drive if he had to.

Sam took Hotch’s arm and helped him down the long bank of stairs, much harder to maneuver down when he was tired than it had been to get up. His legs felt like jelly and more than once he nearly tripped.

“Then invite him to your place for dinner. Surely you can order a pizza. Or are you just opposed to seeing him?”

“I’m not...opposed...I’m just…”

Sam stopped and turned Hotch toward him. Anyone looking from the street might get the wrong idea. It would be easily read as a moment from a Hallmark romance.

“You need him, and he needs you. If you think that his opinion of you has somehow changed because of what happened, I’d say you’re not giving him enough credit.”

Hotch didn’t have a response to that, but the look on Sam’s face and the way he continued to lead him down the stairs and back to the apartment told Hotch it wasn’t necessary. It was food for thought, not a set up for an argument. His beads were in his pocket now, the outline could be seen against the denim, and Hotch noticed that Sam checked his watch. It was the third or fourth time he’d done that since they sat in the pews. He’d noted it as odd, but his mind was too hazy to focus for any length of time on small details like that. Now he was suspicious.

“Are you late for something?” Hotch asked, staring ahead at his building as it loomed. Grew closer, larger, the thought of his couch and his bed growing in strength. His legs burned like he’d run a marathon. It was amazing how quickly physical status changed, how fast he could go from peak performance to broken.

“Right on schedule,” he said, slowing his pace a little and smiling. Hotch didn’t trust it. Something was happening. Something outside of his control, just like everything else lately.

Sam held the door of the building open to him, and Hotch entered with some apprehension. Something was waiting for him and he didn’t know what but he didn’t enjoy surprises. And Sam knew that. It didn’t seem to matter.

The door wasn’t locked. Hotch frowned. He knew he’d locked it on the way out.

“Trust me,” Sam said, nudging the door open. Hotch just stared at him, wondering what was going on and not liking anything his mind came up with. “I asked Jessica to come back to let a friend in. Don’t worry.”

Don’t worry. His apartment was broken into just a short time ago, a blink of an eye, and Sam says don’t worry. Hotch found he had a few issues with that statement, but Sam smiled at him and he had no choice but to try.

It was Derek, Hotch knew it right away. Before he saw him. The minute he stepped into the doorway he could smell Derek’s cologne.

Derek was in his apartment, on his hands and knees, smoothing out the last of a piece of carpet with a seam roller. The stained piece was lying nearby along with the discarded pad, the last real physical reminder of what happened that could be removed and replaced. The rest Hotch would carry with him forever as a part of him, there was no seam roller that could smooth the edges of Foyet’s masterpiece. Hotch stopped short and found it hard to breathe at the sight. Sam just nudged him inside so he could shut the door before helping him to the couch. It was clear that the day’s outing had exhausted him, a sad thing to witness in a man who was previously fit enough to give just about anyone a run for their money. One night, one man’s evil and it was all undone. For how long, Sam didn’t know. Couldn’t tell. One minute Hotch seemed motivated to bounce back and the next he seemed too far gone. Still, he had faith.

And that faith started here, with Derek. That’s all Sam knew for certain. These two, they’d always been tied together. Hotch was Hotch and Derek was Derek, but when they were together they were unstoppable. Derek would make Hotch want to come back, that was the simple truth.

“I ordered you a pizza, it’ll be here in twenty minutes. Let me take that to the dumpster on my way out.” Sam indicated the stained carpet remnants eagerly. Derek balked but eventually decided to hand it to him, brushing his hands on the thighs of his paint stained jeans when it was out of his hands. Like he was wiping Hotch’s blood from his palms. “Hope you like Vito’s.”

“Rossi would kill you for ordering from them.”

Sam laughed and nodded. “I suppose that’s true. He can come by my office if he has a problem with my pizza choices. He knows where to find me.” Slowly, Sam turned to look at Hotch who was solemn on the couch. Trying to reawaken himself or settle himself, it was hard to tell. “You too. Three weeks, it’s on my calendar.”

“How’s it look?” Derek asked, the first thing he’d said to Hotch since they showed. He was looking pointedly at Hotch, and in that moment Sam decided to slip out silently. Hotch noticed but turned to look at the carpet, knowing Sam would rather not have any fuss about him leaving. His work was done, but they both knew he’d be back. Probably a lot. He was the Case Agent, after all. Hotch’s return to duty was securely in his hands.

“It looks…” he said quietly, searching for the word. He didn’t have one. Maybe one didn’t exist. Was there a word in the English language (or any really) that said what he felt looking at that spot and knowing what had happened there but not having to see it anymore? “Thank you.”

Derek grinned and nodded, beginning to pick up the tools he’d set all around his workspace. They hit the old metal toolbox, the top engraved with the initials HM, with a crash. Metal on metal as he tossed them into place – he’d organize it all later. Right now, he had to clean up. They had pizza coming, and he was about three days overdue for sleep, but he was here in Hotch’s apartment and that was exactly where he wanted to be. Where he needed to be.

“I’ll take it.” He kicked the toolbox out of the way and admired his work for a moment before letting out a contented little sigh. “I’m gonna go hop in the shower. I’ll be out before the pizza gets here.”

“Derek?” Hotch whispered, clamping his hands over his knees. He made eye contact with Derek and held it earnestly. “Thank you for coming.”

“Ah, don’t mention it. There was pizza involved and I didn’t have to cook or buy. Easy decision.” He paused after grabbing his go bag, filled with something clean to wear and toiletries, and smiled. “It’s good to see you.”

“You too.”

[glapplebloom]

Something I’ve been doing for a while.

So if you've been on any social website with video, you may see meme animations based off some song but only one part of it. But what is the full context of it? So here are four songs that I’ve seen the memes first then found the full song.

Red Flags

The Meme is a date goes so bad, one of them is asking for help with Morse Code. The date asks if anything is wrong and if they can help, and not wanting to reveal their intentions for fear of something bad happening to them, decides to deny asking for help when a waiter comes up to see if they need it. So why is the date so bad?

In the full song, it's because she’s a fan of Human Centipede. A legit fan of Human Centipede.  The Chorus is her saying “Human Centipede” while she talks about why she likes it. And for those who don’t know what that movie is, the song perfectly sums it up with her explaining the plot. So hearing that and all the ways she likes it, the date thinks she’s going to kill him. Either by feeding him or reenacting the movie.

After the meme part, she convinces him that they would be a great couple. So convincing that they’re already talking about marriage on the first frikkin date. Of course, the wedding has to be themed. And the theme? Human Centipede. I’m amazed the most I’ve seen of the song was the blinking segment when Human Centipede was so meme worthy to me. Luckily others have been doing the beginning as well.

Open the Door

The Meme is someone thinking they got everything right for entry. But one mistake locks them out. This is followed by others asking to be let in despite looking like things you should not let in. Honestly, this is the most straightforward of the memes since the song is based off “That’s Not My Neighbor”. The game is all about checking if the person you’re letting in is a real one or a monster. So basically the entire song is about the meme.

Am I Hot or Cute

This Meme starts with a girlfriend asking her boyfriend if she’s hot or cute. The obvious answer is she’s both but she insists that there can be only one choice. And if he wants to keep dating her he has to answer. If you follow only the meme, you would think it ends with him getting a call from his mother (being it real or not depending on the video maker) and her thinking he’s lying.

In the full song, this story continues. He was lying. He texts his group of friends to ask if his girlfriend is hot or cute. They immediately think it is a trap and after explaining why it is, what is hot or cute and their thoughts, one of his friends said the only answer is what she thinks it is. In other words, they did not help. So he has to gamble into answering before she dumps him.

He comes back with his answer and the twist of this entire thing is revealed: she asked him this because he keeps calling everyone dude and she wants him to stop calling her dude. He agrees and she reveals what the boyfriend and one member of the friend group was thinking: hot and cute are the same thing. Honestly I want to remake the entire thing with ponies.

Why Aren’t You At School

In the Meme, a mother calls her son because she found out he was not at school. He claims that he is. She doesn’t believe him and he said that if you don’t believe me just come to my school. So she does. The meme ends with her going to school while the boy playing hooky tries to rush back to school.

That’s not what the song is about. The kid was at school. The school that called the mother was his girlfriend. This was an elaborate scheme to get the alcohol from his mother so they can celebrate their anniversary. Why couldn’t he just fake sickness like his girlfriend? Besides his mother knowing when he’s faking, even if she believes him she won’t let him out after. Sounds like a fool proof plan.

The mother arrives at school, sees her son being there, then when she drives back home the girlfriend will pick him up and they can celebrate. But there’s a flaw in his plan: since his girlfriend called his mother, when the mother called back to complain about the school she found out about the call coming from the girlfriend since she didn’t pick it up and let it go to voicemail. A voicemail that does not belong to the school.

So basically the jig is up and the boy’s mother calls the girlfriend’s mother. The two are most likely going to be grounded. So let this be a lesson to you, don’t complicate plans. 

[naquey]

Semi-Personal Drake Parker Headcanons

Because let's be honest, I relate too much to this slacker.

Drake cannot for the life of him tolerate spicy foods, he'll eat taki's and slather sweet chili sauce on everything but it makes his mouth burn so much. It's just too good to give up!

As much as he shovels junk food down his gullet, he is very sensitive with chocolate. Store bran chocolate makes him sick to his stomach, and chocolate cake gets him a trip to the bathroom for a few hours.

He is technically a loser. He may be popular at school, but he is only popular with the girls he is dating and a small group of friends (that includes Josh) but ultimately he is socially a loser in the eyes of the majority of the school

In middle school he was a gifted kid but when he got to high school that fizzled out and he stopped doing his homework, he deemed it unimportant because he wanted to be a musician as a career.

He's known he wanted to be a musician since he was 5

Drake considers himself to be punk, but doesn't dress much differently because to him subcultures are all about the music (he also doesn't want to get made fun of)

For a while he refused to drink Dr. Pepper cause he thought it would be spicy like black pepper, this is a secret he carries to his grave

He loves to specifically collect toys from his childhood because all his old toys were either stolen or put in a storage bin that his mother couldn't pay for anymore.

Even though his dad left, he isn't upset at him even if he wants to be. He still believes there is some good in his father.

In middle school he got bullied by classmates, but didn't know he was bullied until he got new friends in high school

His classmates would read out the little songs he wrote while the teachers were speaking, and they would snatch away his notebook if they saw him writing in it

Drake doesn't like talking about emotions because every chance to do so before was shot down by either his father or Audrey (at the time she was going through the divorce, he doesn't blame her)

He is in fact a momma's boy

Drake hates getting haircuts at a barber which is why he lets his hair grow sometimes, he prefers to cut it himself because he had enough of barbers not listening to him about what he wants

When Megan was really little, they had a dog who thankful died from old age, but the poor pups life was practically torture in the last years because Audrey and Drake didn't want to let him go just yet (he was put to sleep in the backyard of their old house)

Drake switched schools in second grade, he used to go to a Catholic school

He never got confirmed into the Catholic church

The school he went to was Saint Pius V, a private school

He didn't hate Tracy public school but it was a small building, not to mention he didn't stay too long.

In third grade Megan, Audrey, and Drake moved to a neighbor hood near where they would live with Walter

Drake started acting out in elementary school, which got him his first therapist

Although Josh is allergic, Drake owns a secret cat that he keeps in the garage. It was a stray that he started feeding because he felt bad for the kitty cat.