#and i hate to think they’re not taking the opportunity to go into what cards he’s been dealt with when it would all be catching up to him r

[catstack17]

obx season 3 + 4 spoilers ahead‼️‼️ (i mention a lot about s3 and how it relates to season 4)

listen listen listen!! i know that john b isn’t the character of season 4™️, and i love that- i love that aspect every season of this show, one character is the very main character whose plot line is the main plot of the season and it is v apparent that jj is getting his moment to shine- and i still adore that it’s not outshining other characters light in the show + obx allows other characters to have their own storylines that aren’t directly related to the main character (ex. rafe’s grief and path in season 4, when s4 is jj’s season, sarah’s disorientation in s3 when that was kie’s season, etc.)

there’s just one thing that hasn’t been touched upon with john b this season- that’s sort of making me want to rip my hair out slightly bc if rafe can deal with his grief then why are there no scenes exposing and expressing john b’s grief-

have the pates completely forgotten that john b, a, supposed orphan at 16, “fugitive” at 17 that the system has constantly hurt (i.e. if he was falsely convicted of the murder of sheriff peterkin, at the age of 17, with no evidence whatsoever would have received the death penalty) who has stayed consistently being on the run. always + never being safe in his own home, in his own town. after spending so much time looking for his dad, and following in the footsteps to try to get the gold, so much so that he finds his father alive while searching for it, that he even witnessed his father sacrifice his life for john b and the treasure itself later on, all because his dad was hellbent on finding it in the first place and then the only place he ever could come back to and rely on, was lit on fire and he had to see everything burn down right in front of him after just losing the only family member he had been searching for since his dad went missing + finding out all that time his dad was out doing morally grey things- and witnessing his dad shoot someone right in front of him- or even just the fact that john b had to see the light go out in his dad’s eyes after just literally getting him back on the way home from getting what they had been searching for- would affect him?? that he’d have so much baggage and grief stemming from all of the above? he lost his teenage years through the trauma he went through and we can’t even go into the detail of how he’s dealing with that? the only thing we got was a “dead and buried” line from john b while looking at a photo of big john? i need to know how he’s dealing now that he has the time to sit and really look at all the atrocities he’s witnessed- bc i love seeing him be happy mainly in this current season but he’s gone through far too much for that to be realistic at this point in his life.

[twice-inamillion]

The Company

Asking for a favor

Smut and Story Building (Sex, Teasing, Anal sex, Deep Penetration, Creampie, use of anal plug) 

Chapter 4

2630 Words

(Irene, like a good girl, is used by the Company CEO. He makes her wear a butt plug to get her accustomed to having something inside of her when she is to service her boss in anal sex. She uses this opportunity to get on the good side of her boss, even if it means being used like a sex toy.)

“Fuck, this is so embarrassing. Why is he making me wear this in public? I hate it him.” Irene walks through the main building, making her way to the CEO’s office. She greets the trainees who are coming from their biweekly evaluation meeting. “Good Morning, girls.” 

The trainees wave back and bow at Irene as she holds some paperwork through the busy hallway. She presses the button on the elevator, scans her access card, and selects the top floor. She faces the glass and sees the view of the campus, busy with trainees going to their classes. She starts to walk to the end of the hall when she drops some of the folders, “Damn, why is this happening to me?” She squats carefully so as not to reveal her panties and the plug she was forced to wear as punishment by the CEO. She quickly picked up the files and quickly felt the back of her skirt to make sure that the plug in her behind wasn’t showing. After checking, she makes her way to your office and knocks on the door. 

“Irene here. May I come in?” dreading to see your face this early morning.

“Yeah, come in.”

She opens the doors, walks in, and immediately closes the door behind her. She sees the smirk on your face, knowing that you’re laughing at her. “Good Morning, sir.”

“Good Morning, Irene. How are you doing today?”

“I’m okay. Thanks for asking.” With an annoyed face, she gives you the files you requested, “Here are the files you requested.” You take them, review the files, and set them on the table. You get back on your desktop but notice Irene standing before your desk. “Did you need something?”

“Sir, I want to ask you for something.”

“Speak.”

“Well… I reviewed the evaluations from the trainees who were tested two weeks ago, and four stood out to me. Would you mind looking at them?” handling your files. 

“Ah, yes. You mentioned one of them before, right? A girl named Wendy.”

“Yes, sir. She’s from Canada. We sent someone to recruit her based on her viral YouTube video.”

“Okay, and what about the rest?”

“The rest went through the Korean auditions. Most of them are good singers and have been performing well in their evaluations.”

“I see that there is no that’s not of age yet.”

“Yeah, her name is Yeri. She recently joined that company a few weeks ago, but I think she has the basics down.”

“Okay, and why are you showing me this?”

“Well… I wanted to see if you would consider these girls for a girl group.”

“Irene, You know we already have a group in mind.”

“Sir, but I think these girls would do well.”

“I don’t know. I’ll think about it.”

She walks over to your side of the desk, “Please, sir, let me be responsible for the group. I promise you won’t regret it.”

“So you want to be in the group too?”

“Yes, I would like to debut with them.”

You see the desperation on her face, making you want to tease her more. You remember the punishment you gave her and say, “Seems like you’re serious. You must really want this.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Alright, show me how serious you are.”

“What do you mean?”

You place her hand on her behind, giving it a nice rub and smile. She reads your expression and knows what you are trying to do. She slowly spreads her legs and pulls her panties down to her knees, giving you access to her cheeks. With your right hand, you go up her skirt and grab onto one of her cheeks, feeling her pale and soft flesh, “A nice ass like always.” She tries to think of something else as you caress her ass cheeks by squeezing them, cupping, or slapping them until they’re slightly red.

Once you get your fill, you focus on what’s between Irene’s cheeks and slowly move your hand toward the bud sticking out of her. You grab the pink glass plug and gently give it a tug, causing Irene to twitch. You try to give it another pull, but her body tightens out of reflex. 

“Come on, you know the drill, relax.”

Without a word she spreads her legs a bit more and bends towards the desk. You give the butt plug another pull, and this time, you’re able to move it. Grabbing onto the nub, you give it a twist, which makes Irene moan. Seeing her reaction, you decide to pull on it, “Remember to relax.” With a firm grip, you begin to pull on the nub, which causes her pucker hole to stretch slightly. Irene gets firm to the table and feels you pull the plug out of her butt. She moans with every centimeter you pull until her hole is stretched to the size of a glass ball. 

“Ready for the last bit?”

“Shut up, just pull it.” 

All you hear is the popping noise of air escaping her now gaping hole, trying to clench onto the foreign object it held earlier before. “Fuck, lot at that gaping hole,” as you stare at the inside of Irene’s exposed hole. You stand and watch as her pucker hole constricts, turning you on. 

Not wanting to wait any longer, you undo your belt and drop your pants to the floor. You take out your cock and give it a full pump, getting it ready for some action. 

You open the bottom drawer and pull out some lube and squirt some on Irene’s ass and on your cock. Slowly and gently, you rub the lube all over your cock and between Irene’s slit. The cold lube causes Irene to shiver in anticipation of what’s to come. 

Now, the long-awaited meal that you have been craving is here. You press your cock against Irene’s ass and gently push it into her asshole. She groans as she feels the tip of your hardened cock spreads her puckerhole, “Uggh…fuck…” biting her lip. A cold sensation fills her spine as she takes in your massive cock. 

“Fuck, you’re still tight.” You press in even more, feeling the flesh of her walls wrapping around your cock. You take a better hold of her waist and warn her, “I’m going to go all the way!”

Irene tries to prepare herself and adjusts her position on the table but loses her balance when she feels a stab in her womb, “Wait! You’re going to mess me up!”

Her knees become weak from just one stroke, and it’s not the last one. You pick up the pace and mercilessly fuck her ass. You enjoy hearing her groan in pain as she takes you massive length. “Stop! Stop! Give me some time to adjust myself. You’re going to ruin me!”

You move your hand and insert two fingers into her wet cunt and collect as much fluid as you can. With those two fingers, you shove them into Irene’s mouth and say, “Shut up and suck like a good girl!”

Without a fight, she welcomes your fingers and begins to suckle. “Yeah, that’s right. Sucking on your own nectar like a slut you are.” She tries to respond, but you slam your cock back inside, reaching the deepest parts of her ass, causing her to gag on your fingers. 

After five minutes, Irene is a complete mess; she groans, “You’re turning me inside out. Please, pull out…”

“Alright, I’ll let you rest, but let me cum first.” 

You pull out your cock just enough to leave the tip and slam it once more, releasing a large wave of cum, “Hmph… fuck!!” She loses her balance, falls on the desk, and goes silent. “Fuck, your ass is so just tighter, it’s milking my cock.”

You turn to Irene and see her passed out, so you pull out your cock and see Irene’s motionless body. You grab your phone from your desk and take a picture of Irene’s gaping ass, “That’s so hot.” You walk in closer and see a large puddle of cum just at the edge of her puckerhole, just waiting to ruin Irene’s thigh. You grab her ass cheeks and spread them, causing your cum to spill out and drip onto her underwear. 

Not wanting to spill any cum on the floor you pull her panties back up and sit on your chair with Irene on your lap. You move her panties to the side and insert your semi-hard cock back inside, and continue to work on the computer. 

After a couple of minutes, Irene wakes up and feels the hot sensation of something buried deep inside her and lifts her head up. She slowly regains her vision, and the first thing she sees is your chest. She tilts her head up, “Wh…what are you doing?”

“You fell asleep, well more like passed out. I didn’t know I was that good.”

“Stop. Let me get off.” 

“No.”

“Come on, I need to get back to my duties.”

“These are part of your duties, remember.”

“Fine… just get it over with.”

“That’s no fun, but whatever. Let’s see your reaction after I’m done with you.”

Irene feels your semi-limp cock throbbing and getting harder as you bounce her small body on your length. With a firm grip on her ass tries to turn her head away, but you stop her, “Don’t look away. Look at me.” She moves her gaze at you, making direct eye contact. “That’s right, just like that. Now, I’m going to let go, and I want you to ride me.” 

You could see that she was going to talk back, but instead, she holds the words in her mouth and does as she’s told. She continues the rhythm you previously had and, little by little, increases the pace. You place your hands on her back, and she places hers on your shoulders; you stare at her, teasing that she is doing all the work like the good little cum slut that she is. 

“How does my cock feel up your ass? Good, huh?”

“It’s not bad.”

“Remember when the first time?”

“Don’t… don’t bring it up.”

“Why not? It was cute seeing you struggle.”

“I couldn’t walk straight for two days because of you.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault your body is so small.”

“It’s not my body, it’s that your cock is too big.”

“But you like it” as you give her a smirk. She doesn’t respond, but the silence gives away her answer. Instead, she picks up the pace to get her duty over with. “Fuck, you’re getting tight again. You’re so good at tightening your walls. If only your future members knew how much of a slut you are.”

“I’m not doing it because I want to; I’m doing it because I have to.” 

“Oh, if that’s the case, why don’t you let me fuck that tight pussy you have right there” as you rub your hands on her nicely trimmed cunt.

“No, you can’t.”

“Come on, it’s been over a year since we met, and you still haven’t…”

“Don’t. Remember, you can only fuck me anal if you don’t do it from the front. I’m saving myself for someone special.”

“Alight, I guess… You’re lucky I’m nice. If it was anyone else, they wouldn’t think twice about having all of you, if you know what I mean.”

“Haha don’t think you’re so nice. You still got your with me, even if it’s through my ass.”

“Let’s change the subject. How about you make me cum in two minutes. If you can do it in less than that, I’ll let you start your little group.”

“Promise?”

“Yeah.”

Without a second thought, she increased the pace of her straddling. She moans as your cock reaches the deepest parts of her rectum. “Ahh… ahh.. it feels so good!” She lifts herself up and slams herself back down, causing her to tighten her walls. “Cum already, please…” as she looks up at you. “Almost.” She repeats it a couple more times, making you cum only five seconds before the two-minute mark. She groans as you fill her ass once more, causing her to lose strength in her body and collapse on your chest with a heavy breath.

It takes her a couple of minutes for her to regain a part of her strength, and when she does, she pulls herself out of your cock but don’t before you go for a passionate kiss to, which she does not reject. After you kiss, she musters enough energy to pull away, gets off your lap, waddles to the sofa across the room, throws herself onto it, and slowly closes her eyes.

You get off the chair and walk towards her and whisper, “Congratulations on your new group. Make sure not to disappoint me,” as you smack her ass. You walk towards the desk and grab some tissues to clean yourself off. You see the plug on top of her skirt and grab it before walking back to Irene. “Don’t forget this. I want you to walk around with my cum inside your ass for the whole day, okay” as you insert the plug back into her butt.

—————-

Irene spends the whole day with the plug as you order her to. The first thing she does when she returns to her apartment is go straight to the shower. She turns on the shower, lets it run for a few minutes, and places her head against the shower wall. After a long day, she tries to clear her mind and pulls out the plug. She watches as a large amount of cum pours out of her tight butthole and into the drain, “He pumped so much in me. It’s better for it to be my ass than the other whole and ending up pregnant. I’ll never let that man impregnate me. That would be the end of me…” as she takes a hot shower. 

—————

A few days passed, and Irene was heading to the meeting room to meet with her future group mates when she saw a group of women entering through the main entrance. She sees IU and Taeyeon coming out of the elevator and walking toward the women. “Hey, IU. Who’s that?”

“Oh the group?”

“Yeah.”

“They’re Taeyeon’s groupmates. They came for a tour since Taeyeon wouldn’t stop complimenting the place. She will show them around the campus and maybe meet with the CEO if he’s available.”

“Oh, okay. Good luck then.”

IU catches up with Taeyeon and the rest of the group and passes by Irene. They introduce themselves one at a time, but only one catches her attention. “You must be Irene.”

“Yeah, I am.”

“I’m Jessica, by the way. Taeyeon told me I should communicate with you and IU if I had any questions.”

“Yes, IU and I are the CEO’s assistants and are more than glad to answer any questions you have.”

“Okay, good. I’ll catch you later. Can’t miss the tour of the company,” as Jessica waves goodbye to Irene. 

Irene waves back better, heading to the meeting room. She opens the doors and sees a group of four girls sitting next to each other, waiting patiently.

[honeybunhottie]

Oo headcanons for Chris or Josh crushing bad on Alt!reader? maybe like a gothic or metalhead style?

feel like both would be absolutely geeked about some scary looking women!!!

- 🦐

Omg I love this idea! Sorry in advance if this is totally off, I'm not super knowledgeable about the styles or culture but I tried my best! Please keep sending requests!!

Chris and Josh with an Alt! Reader

We’ll do this before the events of the game because I feel like they’d have too much going on otherwise.

Chris

This man LOVES alt baddies and I can say this for a fact

My source? I’ve never known a nerdy man who didn’t like an alt baddie

He and Josh are jokesters through and through. And also lowkey pervs

I can just imagine one day Josh is teasing him about never getting any

And then here walks by you, dressed head to toe in an outfit that’d probably make his mother scream

And he can’t take his eyes off of you.

Immediately his friends catch onto his (frankly, not subtle stare) and start teasing him

Eventually they have some pity and tell him your name at least.

This man makes it his mission to have an interaction with you

Spends at least a month stalking observing you in the hallways

What outfits you wear, what your friends wear, your fav eyeliner brand, how much you hate your lab partner, your plans after school, all of it

One time you bumped into each other and dropped your notebook

Papers flying everywhere and all

He helps you collect them all, and when your fingertips brush his hand feels like it’s evaporated. He didn’t know it was possible for appendages to feel like sparkling water, but here it was happening

When you say a simple “Thanks, Chris” he swears his heart stops

He kicks himself for the gaping stare he gave in response as he stuttered out something unintelligible. Like it seriously keeps him awake at night 

He knows he’s bordering on the weird line of things, but there’s literally no chance you guys would cross paths otherwise (in his mind at least)

Because little does he know, the was also a fact about alt baddies

I’ve never met one who didn’t VICERALLY NEED a nerdy man

Yep, you have noticed this blond nerd always around

Yes, you did think he was cute

And yes, your friends absolutely do notice

Eventually, they get tired of your mutual pining because it’s more than obvious that neither of you has enough balls to ask each other out. 

They set up a plan with the other squad to set you up, because everyone is tired of these two dorks fumbling around each other

They decide to pull the “make group plans but nobody shows up” card for the new movie coming out

Chris is chilling in the hallway on his phone,anxiously glancing at the door every other minute because why the hell aren’t they here yet?

He freaks out when he sees you walk in, dressed even cooler than usual, all by your lonesome. 

You seem lost, looking for something before checking your phone. You sport a flustered look afterwards.

At the same time, Chris feels his phone buzz with a text too

‘Have fun man!’

‘Good luck!!’

‘Take ‘em to the bone zone buddy!’

He rolls his eyes at the last one before realizing what they’re referring to

He looks up from his phone only to get jumpscared by you standing right next to him

“Looks like we’ve been set up”

He immediately starts apologizing before you put a finger to his lips to shush him’

“I’m kinda looking forward to this”

Lord help him

He’s still singing Josh’s praises years later though, so something worked out right!

Josh

I loveeeee Josh

And nothing about this man screams subtle to me

Will he immediately tell you to your face how hot he thinks you are?

Probably not

Will he find every opportunity to hang out and find things in common with you?

Yes, 100%

This man is around every corner, every turn with that bewitching stare and stupid laugh

I feel like he would love your alt style. I mean he’s super into horror movies and the darker side of things, I feel like he’d enjoy someone different.

Flirty jokes galore, he loves making them, he’s kinda weird like that

He loves it if you match his energy too

He’s always asking about what music you’re into, have you seen that new movie? There’s this new haunted house coming soon.

He loves quality time, and he wants to become friends before he makes a move or anything.

Once you guys are FRIENDS, then he starts making moves

This man is playing chess while we are playing checkers

I have a feeling that it’s not too noticeable at first

Lots of jokes still

Lots of “jk jk, unless…”

Nahhhh

Unless…

He’s always getting you the new album for your fav band, or buying you cool stuff when he gets dragged to the mall with his sisters.

Is a firm believer that it’ll happen if it happens

And is very content to just ride along with you.

Overall, 10/10 we love them both

[reiding-writing]

building lego flowers with Spencer? :> he always gets reader flowers and they get sad when they wilt so he surprises them with the lego set and they spend a cozy afternoon together building them and drinking tea?

immortal [ s.r ]

Summary:

Spencer bought you flowers before every case he went on. But coming to your apartment after the case was finished and seeing that they’d wilted made his happiness to see you wilt along with their petals. Luckily for him, he’d seemed to find a more ‘immortal’ solution.

WARNINGS: n/a

pairing: boyfriend!spencer x gn!reader

genre: fluff

wc: 1.2k

masterlist!!

a/n: this request is so cute and it is also a preemptive apology for another request that i’m working on that is, you guessed it, full of angst, love you guys <333

Spencer would always buy you a bouquet of flowers before going off on a case. Always.

The minute his phone buzzed to call him into the office he was off to his local flower shop to buy you a bouquet to remind you of his love for you even in his physical absence.

The floral arrangement was different every time. Each bouquet fit with a handwritten card explaining the flora and its symbolism.

But by the time he return they’d often be wilted, an unfortunate reminder of just how much time he has to spend away from you.

And so he arrives at your apartment with an agenda, no longer able to stand the sight of flowers that should’ve been discarded days and sometimes weeks before when he returns to see you after a case is over.

You always tell him that it’s because they remind you of him, of how much he loves you even when you can’t see him. But the drooping flowers and brown stems that always greet him upon his return, whilst it might not bother you, made his shoulders slump with guilt about not spending enough of his time with you.

He knocks three times on your apartment door, an unusual cadence that you immediately recognise as you rush to let him in, clad in a pair of fluffy pyjamas with a bright smile on your face.

You capture him in a hug as soon as you open the door, a kiss planted fervently on his cheek.

Your smile doesn’t falter at his lack of his usual flowers when he arrives unannounced at your door, but you can’t help the small quirk of your eyebrow as you lean back to give him back some personal space.

“You’re off on another case already?” Your tone betrays the small amount of disappointment you’re feeling. He’d only returned the day before yesterday, promising you a museum date on the weekend to finally spend some more quality time together. Looks like you’d have to reschedule.

Spencer can’t stop himself from breaking into a sheepish grin at your greeting, but also has an air of determination about him, his left hand securely held behind his back as his right rubs your arm lovingly.

“No actually…” He can see the flicker of disappointment in your eyes morph into confusion, and he takes the opportunity to pull you towards him and press his lips to yours, hoping to kiss any lingering negativity in your mind into non-existence. “Can I come in?”

“Of course baby yeah,” You tug him into your apartment by his wrist, a strange rattling noise emanating from behind his back as he moves to kick your door closed behind him. “What’s that?”

You tilt yourself to look behind him, and he blocks your view as he turns himself in tandem with you. “You know how much I hate seeing the flowers I buy you wilted when I come to see you,”

“So… I… I thought… I think I might have found a solution?” He takes a second to figure out how to word his sentence, pulling out a rattling box from behind his back, four printed lego flowers decorating the front of it to indicate what’s inside.

Your eyebrows furrow a little further as your eyes examine the box before lighting up with an air of eagerness as you take the box in your hands to look at it in more detail. "You bought me lego flowers?"

“I did,” He chuckles, “I found them in the Target by my apartment, they cant replace real flowers but they’re a good substitute.” His beautiful hazel eyes are warm as he looks at you in amusement and the soft tone to his voice is calming.

“Now I know lego flowers isn’t what you were expecting from me… and I’m sorry if you were looking forward to a regular bouquet… but I promise you… these will never wilt.”

"They’re perfect Spence…" You give him a downturned smile at his thoughtfulness, how he’d found a way to immortalise the flowers he gave you.

You press your lips to his cheek to extend your gratitude, and the warmth that spreads through his entire being is something that words can't quite describe. "I'm glad you like them... " A genuine smile lights up his face as he wraps both arms around you in a tight hug, his heart fluttering in his chest. "I'm glad you exist."

You can’t help but chuckle at his final sentence, wrapping your arms securely around his torso with the box still in hand to return his hug, the lego pieces rattling with your movements. "I’m glad you exist too-"

At your words, he buries his face into your neck and sighs softly as he inhales your scent. It calms his nerves, and it makes him forget all the stress of work. Instead, all he can focus on is the warmth coming from your body and the feeling of your heartbeat against him. It’s a feeling he never wants to let go of.

"You’re going to build them with me right?" Your head leans against his shoulder as you essentially just stand in your doorway, completely intertwined with one another.

"Of course I am..." His voice is slightly deep and his tone gentle, "What sort of gentleman would give someone lego flowers without building it with them?" He chuckles before adjusting his arms to make himself more comfortable against yours.

"These lego flowers should be built together," He smiles, "And I want to do that with you."

“Good!” You release yourself from his embrace and press the box to his chest. “Clear off the coffee table and i’ll make us some tea,”

Your enthusiasm is infectious, his smile only growing as you retreat into your kitchen and leave him to set up.

You spend the rest of the afternoon huddled around your coffee table, meticulously assembling the four lego flowers whilst Spencer explained them to you.

He turned a newly finished pink lotus in his hands before gently placing it inside the glass vase usually reserved for the bouquets he would buy you. “Lotus flowers, or Nelumbo nucifera, symbolise strength, resilience and rebirth,”

The plastic makes a small clinking sound as it collides with the bottom of the vase. “They are also a staple of purity, as despite growing from murky freshwater ponds, there are no stains of the flower’s petals, usually a bright white or a pale pink.”

You nod enthusiastically at his explanation as you place your own finished flower into the vase alongside his, a bright synthetic floral arrangement slowly developing.

This new form of flowers doesn’t stop Spencer from buying you a bouquet before every case he goes on.

Except now, each arrangement is joined not only by a small card, but also a box with the lego replication of whichever flora he chooses, adding to your lego arrangement one by one until it’s more extravagant than any organic bouquet could ever hope to be.

The plastic flowers prove immortal beyond any normal flower’s capability.

A perfect mirror of his love for you.

One that would never wilt.

[prozacwhorehouse]

too good (lip gallagher x reader blurb)

where lip comes to you after fiona kicks him out because he got expelled 😔

This is so short I just needed it out of my drafts NEOW

no warnings, just swearing !! also not proofread so entirely my bad if it switches from you pronouns to she pronouns

“I’ll get it! Jesus!!” he can hear yelling and stomping from the other side of the door.

“what!-“ the door fully opens, but when she sees who’s on her porch, she quickly narrows the opening.

“lip? jesus, you can’t be here- my dad will fucking kill you,” you whispered, trying not to draw attention. you both knew you weren’t kidding either. he could kill lip.

“who is it?!” he hears her dad yell from another room. lip assumes right away that he’s drunk on the couch, watching the game show network. when isn’t he?

“just a ding-dong ditch,” she comes up with a lie, “they’re long gone now.”

“goddamn kids,” her father groans.

the girl raises her eyebrows as if to say ‘what?’

“i uh-“ he hesitates, knowing you’ll probably have the same reaction Fiona did. but he knows you won’t let him sleep out in the cold, “fiona kicked me out.”

“well what the fuck did you do?” she asks, not surprised. as kev never fails to remind him, lip is the dumbest genius they know.

“i didn’t do anything, i just- can i come inside? fuckin’ freezing out here.” he shoves his hands in his pockets and shrugs his shoulders, avoiding her gaze

she scoffs, “what the- no, you can’t come inside- my dad-“ “will kill me. i know. can I go to your window?” She pauses, gritting her teeth while debating. she can never say no to him after all. “ugh- fine.” she groans. “go around the back.” he gives an appreciative nod and smile, skipping down the porch to go round back to climb up the terrace to her window.

“im going to bed, daddy!” she yells, from half way up the carpeted stairs. he waves her off in response, eyes glued to Card Sharks.

when she reaches her bedroom, she shuts the door and quietly locks it. she makes a hushing motion, warning lip before she opens the window for him to climb in. his feet come down on the ground a little harder than they should have, and her eyes widen, glaring at him. they pause to listen for motion downstairs- nothing.

“sorry,” he whispers, placing his bag down on her floor, walking over to plop down on her bed.

“move,” she ushers him over, taking her place on the bed. he assumes the position he’ll never admit he loves, his head in her lap.

“seriously, lip. what the fuck.” she questions, lightly tapping his cheek.

“y’know that deal fiona and I made? that we’d both get our diplomas, and id go to college?” she nods, beginning to rub his cheek. “well, ya heard about that kid who threw the chair through the window today, right?” she nods again, brows furrowed processing. “that was me. i-“ he pauses to laugh, even though it isn’t funny, “got expelled today.” her thumb stops moving, and her lips part in shock. “are you fucking serious?” she asks, hoping to god he’s fucking with her. “yep. dead.” he stares up at her wall and then back at her. she only scoffs. “jesus. you know you’re really fucking stupid, as smart as you are.” she pushes his head off her lap and crosses her arms over her chest. “what?” he scoffs, lifting himself up onto his elbows. “you. are. a. fucking. idiot.” she annunciates every word.

“jesus- it’s not that big of a deal. why finish high school when there’s no future for me anyway?” he questions. she hates when he does this. he undermines his successes, when really, he has the brightest future ahead of him, if he just tried.

she smacks him upside the head. no hesitation.

“what the fuck!” “you’re the smartest fucking guy at our school lip. kids would KILL to have the opportunity you do, to go to college and get the hell out of Chicago. and you’re just throwing it all away.” she shakes her head in disappointment, which is worse than being mad at him, he thinks.

“well when you put it that way, i sound like a fucking asshole,” he rolls his eyes, settling back down on the bed.

“Fiona’s right. she always fucking is. so you can pick yourself up and fucking do something with your life, or you can sleep on the sidewalk.” you offer him the two options, and he thinks. he knows you’re right. it’s so easy to fight his sister on things like this, because they grew up with that sibling banter. but when you back her up, it gives him an outside opinion, which he knows is the right one.

“why do ya always have to put me in my place, huh?” he smiles, and nudges her thigh. she can’t help but smile and pull his head back into her lap.

“just doing my job. bringing you down from your high horse,” she laugh, threading your fingers through his hair. it doesn’t last long before he’s moving up on the bed, pulling her to him, connecting lips.

“you’re too fucking good,” he smiles, kissing her again.

“know your worth, Gallagher.”

[thetomorrowshow]

Joel thinks it’s stupid, really.

Once they figure it out.

Soulmates, Grian messages them all. I think it’s soulmates.

Which makes sense, with the random pains shooting through his legs that he feels on occasion. He’s sharing a life with someone—or, three lives—and they feel each others’ pain.

Which is dumb. Because Joel doesn’t need or want a soulmate, and he doesn’t care much for the idea of having to share his life with someone and make sure they’re safe. He’s not here to be babysitting another player.

That’s what he would be doing, he’s sure. Babysitting someone. Not that everyone would be, of course—there are some players that he knows instantly will be paired up, because if such a thing as real soulmates exist, they would be them. Grian and Scar. Scott and Jimmy. Bdubs and Etho.

No one for him.

No one for Joel because he’s always been a loner. For as long as he can remember he’s been on his own in these games—in the first one he had his cottage on the hill (so long ago that he can barely remember what it looked like, he can only remember it burning and the flames licking up at him and melting his skin and the smell of his hair and he has to put it out—), and in the games since, he’s been alone. Alliances that last little more than a week, here and there, and somehow he always ends up at Grian’s side at the end of things, but he’s never actually teamed up with anyone else.

He doesn’t want a soulmate. He doesn’t want another player going through his things, walking through his space, just being near him when he’s angry and needs time alone to cool off.

But there’s a morbid curiosity, he supposes. Because he can’t help but wonder who on earth the universe would think to pair him with.

So every person he sees, he socks in the arm (and if he hits a little harder than is considered friendly, he can blame it on adrenaline).

He actually witnesses a soulmate pair find each other before he finds his own.

And, strangely, it’s Bdubs and Impulse.

For a moment, he thinks that can’t be right—he can envision Bdubs with Etho, or Cleo, but not Impulse. And while Impulse is easygoing enough, Bdubs is a wildcard. Impulse’s sense of order is going to be completely upturned by Bdubs and his harebrained ideals.

Maybe. It’s not like Joel actually knows either of them very well.

And then they’re all mining together, and Etho trips.

And Joel feels his knees sting.

-

Joel doesn’t want to settle down anywhere, at all ever, but after a bunch of fooling around with Grian and Scar (soulmates, just as he’d predicted, of course), he starts. . . .

Not laying down roots. He really ought to get something started, just like everyone else, but that’s just it: everyone else has something started. Everyone else has planted crops and fenced in some animals and set out to get building blocks.

Prime opportunity for raiding some new farms, and to his surprise, Etho absolutely agrees.

For a moment, Joel can forget that they’re linked—he’s just hanging out with a group of friends, laughing at Jimmy, stealing a bit of wheat when nobody’s looking, the norm. Then Etho takes an absurd amount of damage—Joel definitely doesn’t fall back against the crafting table they’ve set up for making armor, definitely doesn’t gasp and clutch at his chest, like he can stop his heart from leaping out of it—and he’s rather rudely reminded that his life isn’t solely his own.

Oh, he hates this already.

Etho calls an apology, but Joel can’t see him through the woods—if they die here and it’s Etho’s fault, he’s never going to forgive him, soulbond or no—so he heads forward, only to find Etho panting beside an enderman in a boat.

“Tricky getting him to walk into it,” Etho says offhandedly, and this could be ender pearls for them if they play their cards right.

Ender pearls are perfect for quick escapes, and if they decide to go with Scar’s absolutely insane plan of trying to take over that outpost, he and Etho are going to need an escape.

He swings with his axe at the angry creature. Easy. Easy pearls, the thing stuck in the boat like a sitting duck.

And then he swings again.

And he hits the boat.

Within seconds, he’s dead.

It’s dark at spawn, and Joel can barely keep from crying in frustration. The enderman had been in the blummin’ boat! All he had to do was hit it a couple of times and they were set!

“I’m so sorry, Etho,” he says, and he hates it. He hates that he has to say that.

He’d been worried about having to babysit another player, keep his lives safe in their hands, but here he is, having stolen a person’s life from them.

He lost Etho their first life, smart Etho who would never mess up killing an enderman in a boat, and now he has to own up to it and live with it.

“I know I messed up first,” Etho says, his eyes crinkling a bit in a way that, combined with the flat tone of his voice, tells Joel he’s definitely frowning. “But I think you messed up way worse there.”

Joel’s familiar with anger—very familiar—but it feels foreign coming from Etho. He ducks his head, runs back through the darkness to wherever it was that they’d died. Something akin to shame is curdling in his stomach, and it’s his fault that they died and Etho’s being weird about it and not yelling, meaning he’s the type to go all cold and calm with anger.

They gather their things from Impulse and Bdubs, then mess around a bit with boats—and maybe he’s just hiding it really well, but Etho doesn’t seem angry, it’s the strangest thing and Joel almost dreads the moment they’re alone together—before joining Grian and Scar on that horribly stupid plan to take over the outpost. It fails, of course, but no one gets seriously hurt and they get to lure a bunch of Pillagers into Bdubs’s stupid little house that he’s building for Impulse.

They hop around for probably a week, never alone, just watching everyone else start on their bases, before they finally set down a couple of chests and furnaces and get to work.

And Etho . . . isn’t mad.

In fact, as Joel starts laying out the foundation for his—their base, Etho comes up beside him, silently surveying, hands in his pockets.

“I don’t blame you for us being Yellow, by the way,” he says casually, and Joel almost chokes on his own spit.

“Sorry, what?”

Etho shrugs. “It was going to happen to one of us at some point,” he says. “And in my eyes? Better you than me, ‘cuz now I get to tease you for it.”

Is that. . . .

Was that a joke?

Etho leaves, and Joel’s left alone with his thoughts and a bunch of wood planks.

He’d thought Etho was boring. He’s always been the quiet, redstone-y kind of guy that Joel can’t stand—not that there’s anything wrong with that! Joel just needs somebody fast-moving, on his level, ready to burn down a building without questions or hesitation.

It’s just one joke. Anyone can make a joke, that doesn’t mean anything about their personality or character. For instance, Joel makes jokes all the time, and he’s a total jerk.

Etho can’t be likable. Sure, he was fine to wander around with for the past couple of days, causing general chaos, but he’s a bore and likes redstone. He won’t be able to keep up with Joel.

But Etho hovers there while he works, occasionally giving little suggestions to the build, and after he wanders off for the afternoon, he comes back with his eyes crinkled over his mask and bragging about some wool farm he’d built.

He doesn’t need help to build this ship. He doesn’t need to depend on anyone to get wool. He especially doesn’t need to depend on Etho, all dry looks and gloating and frowns.

Joel works alone. He always has.

But his indifference to Etho isn’t making him leave, so Joel decides to do what he does best.

Be annoying.

-

“I’m his biggest fan,” Joel boasts to anyone who’ll listen. “You guys know I looove redstone. Just like Etho. He’s perfect.”

Grian gives Scar a look. Scar doesn’t notice.

“We’re very happy—we have a lovely ‘Relation’ship, you know. I wouldn’t be surprised if we’re the best pair on the server, actually.”

Scott gives Cleo a look. Cleo does notice.

“Etho’s probably the best at everything in the world. He’s so good at . . . redstone. And . . . all the stuff you do with it. That’s why we’re practically made for each other.”

“I’m gonna be honest with you, you sound kind of. . . .” Jimmy trails off, glancing over at Tango for support.

“Like you’re compensating for something? Unhappy? Inadequate?” Tango suggests helpfully.

“A-absolutely untrue!” Joel sputters, then clears his throat and turns away, nose high. “I’m going to get back to working on me and Etho’s perfect ‘Relation’ship, thank you very much.”

“You’re short!” Jimmy calls as parting words. Joel ignores him.

In total opposition to what he’s been spending the past couple of days declaring, once he finishes the bedroom space of the ship, he places his bed and Etho’s bed on opposite sides of the room.

“You stay over there, and I stay over here, all right?” Joel says that night, pointing to their respective beds. “I’m not a cuddler. I don’t like people in my space.”

“But Joel, I thought you were my biggest fan!” Etho wheedles. There’s a glint in those crinkled eyes that tells Joel he’s heard the stuff Joel’s been saying.

Which is frustrating, and immediately takes all the fun out of it. He’d wanted Etho to be mad about his obnoxiousness, to refuse to speak to him, to mock him in return until their partnership inevitably dissolved.

But Etho—his eyes are crinkling, the way they did back when they first died and when he finished the wool farm and then later, when Joel showed him around the ship’s process and he silently nodded before walking off.

“It’s okay, Joel, I know you love me even if you need space,” Etho tells him now, mirth clear in his voice, and Joel realizes that maybe that look isn’t one of anger or disapproval, as he’d first thought. Maybe Etho is . . . smiling.

That’s not good.

It’s not good at all, because if Etho likes him, then Joel. . . .

Joel has to at least try to like him back, doesn’t he? It’s not like he’s the worst guy to be around, after all. He was actually a lot of fun in that first week, running around and stealing and bothering people together.

Maybe he was wrong.

-

As it turns out, when Joel decides he can like Etho, Etho becomes a whole lot more likable.

Etho’s brave—he goes out and enchants his stuff, and Impulse tells the story of them being chased by no less than three Wardens and Etho somehow surviving (Joel’s heart skips a beat in his chest at the most tense moments of the story, and Etho casually slugs his shoulder when he looks up to check his soulmate’s okay). He’s strong—not everyone can just run around the Deep Dark all day in full armor and live to tell the tale.

And he totally gets Joel’s sense of humor. He snorts at Joel’s contrived puns, mocks Martyn’s house relentlessly, finds Jimmy’s failures just as hilarious as they actually are.

Joel can’t remember, in recent memory, ever having someone like this. Someone he actually enjoys the company of, someone whom he appreciates and who appreciates him in turn. Someone to talk to, to listen to—and while Etho is a bit quiet, it’s not because he’s boring and isn’t thinking about anything. Joel thinks he just forgets to speak sometimes, and will gladly talk about anything if Joel asks him to.

Sure, he’s had friends. He’s always gotten along with Grian and Jimmy and, really, everyone on the server, when pressed. But none of them are Etho, exactly.

Which is bad. It’s bad because Joel is getting attached, he’s getting complacent, he’s getting happy—

That’s dangerous. This is a death game.

And maybe all that emotional-friend-love stuff works for the likes of Scott, but that’s just not Joel’s modus operandi. He can’t—he can’t be like that. He can’t get close.

“Redstoners and builders don’t work out together, you know,” he says to Etho early one morning. They’d both risen before the sun, for some reason (anxiety, perhaps, as more players become Yellow and fire proves to be a very useful tool) and had decided, without discussion, to sit in the crow’s nest, legs swinging in the air.

Etho hums quietly in that way that means he’s listening, the way he always does when Joel comes over to bother him. Patient, mellow, waiting to see where he’s going with it.

“Seriously, it never works,” Joel continues. “Their brains are too different. You’d think they’d work well, ‘cuz they cover different bases and all that, but it’s the opposite. They just butt heads all the time. It never works.”

“What about Bdubs and Impulse?”

Joel shrugs. “I mean, they both know a good amount of both, right? That’s different.”

There’s a smile to Etho’s voice when he speaks. “Tango and Jimmy?”

“Only if you’re calling Jimmy a builder,” Joel snorts. “In which case, you’re dead wrong.”

Etho makes a show of thinking—he props his chin up on his hand, taps his finger against his cheek. “Hm. You must be right. I can’t think of any other redstone-builder pairs.”

For some reason, something painful sinks through Joel’s stomach. He swallows it back, lets triumph color his tone. “Exactly. They’re too different.”

Etho drops his hand, lightly elbows Joel in the ribs. “Except for you and me, of course. We’re the exception.”

Joel’s mouth goes dry. He clears his throat. The pain vanishes, healed over with hope, surprise, a desperate need for attention filled—and he can’t even make himself disagree and argue, like he’d intended. Instead, all he can do is repeat it.

“We’re the exception.”

As he goes about his day, he barely even processes his actions—Etho thinks they work well together. Etho thinks they’re a match. Etho likes him, and his company, and his building skills, and his humor, and his bluntness, and everything about him.

And Joel’s really starting to think that he likes everything about Etho as well, as hard as he’d tried not to at the beginning.

They go down to the Deep Dark together the next day, and Joel’s trying very hard to ignore whatever his feelings may be on Etho. They can just—they can just be friends, right?

Friends who install proper stairs, of course. The way down takes forever.

“Creeper, behind you!”

Joel spins around, axe up, ready to defend—nothing. Etho huffs a little (again something now familiar that Joel had once taken to be a sign of disapproval), eyes crinkled almost all the way shut when Joel whips back around to him.

“Just kidding.”

“Oh, you cheeky devil—we need to trust each other,” Joel says, no real anger behind the way he shoves Etho lightly.

His palms seem to burn at the contact.

“I just need to make sure you’ll pay attention to me,” Etho says, and Joel has to wonder for a moment if he’ll ever have the problem of not paying attention to Etho again.

He doesn’t think he’s properly ignored his soulmate once all game, and in recent days, he can’t seem to pay attention to anything but Etho. He feels like he’s constantly thinking of him, wondering whether or not he’ll like the touches on the ship, wondering if he’s safe and who he’s with and if he’ll come home all right.

He hopes, a little enviously, perhaps, that Etho has similar worries.

“I am paying attention,” Joel says, and it’s perhaps the most honest thing he’s ever said, in all the games. “I always pay attention.”

When Etho responds, the mirth feels forced, and for a moment Joel feels almost as if he’s seeing Etho without his mask on. “You won’t ignore me in our ‘Relation’ship?”

“No, no, no. I never do.”

It’s true.

It’s so true, it hurts.

Joel—he doesn’t trust people. He can’t. And he’s sick of having to tell himself it again and again, but this just isn’t meant for him.

And then he forgets about it all, because they go into the Deep Dark and it’s bloody terrifying.

(Well, mostly forgets. Because he does walk behind Etho most of the way through the city and Etho—well. It’s a good angle for him, is all.)

That night, Joel lies in his bed on his side of the ship, and stares at the other side of the room. Etho’s sleeping—he hopes, at least—curled up on his side, a blanket pulled up over his head despite the summer heat.

Etho’s always cold, it’s practically his trademark. He’s always got that coat of his on, and gloves, and a mask.

He doesn’t wear the mask to sleep—Joel’s caught glimpses of his face while getting into bed, but he always looks away quickly—, but Joel has no clue if he wears the rest of his ensemble. Just the covers alone ought to be sweltering. Imagine a coat on top of all of that.

If they shared a bed, Etho would have to do away with that extra blanket. Joel could maybe tolerate a bedsheet, that’s it.

If they shared a—where did that thought come from?

But . . . well, Etho’s asleep. And thought isn’t a crime.

So Joel lies there, staring across the room at his soulmate, and wonders. Wonders about what it feels like to hold Etho in his arms, whether his elbows and knees are as bony as they look. Wonders if his hair is quite long enough to grasp between his fingers. Wonders if he’d still be all smooth words after Joel pulled down his mask, grabbed his jaw, and kissed him on the mouth.

Joel falls asleep a little red in the face, and the next morning when Etho does that silent crinkly-eyed laugh, he can’t help but stare and turn red all over again.

He pushes it out of his mind, and it’s through a feverish haze that he even gets through the week, even as they sneak around looking for sugarcane and messing with Scar and running from a Warden on the surface, of all places. He’s really quite occupied, but none of it quite computes when Etho’s right there, being devilishly handsome with that quirked eyebrow and white hair ruffled by the wind.

And the night after they’ve run from the Warden, Joel comes in a bit later than Etho—he’d been out gathering wheat a bit longer—to find that his soulmate has pushed their beds together.

His brain short-circuits as he blinks at the sight: Etho, one hand on the back of his neck sheepishly; the other still holding the blanket he’d been throwing across both beds.

“Is this all right?” Etho asks. Joel turns his blinking gaze toward him. “I just. I wouldn’t mind a bit of cuddling.”

There’s something in the way his eyebrows raise that tells Joel Etho knows exactly what he’s saying, exactly how Joel feels. The part of him that realizes that, that knows that Etho knows, wants to clap and holler and kiss that sexy man.

The rest of Joel, the main part of him, is trained to survive.

“Sure, whatever,” Joel shrugs, trying to affect an air of nonchalance. Etho can’t know. Etho can never know—and not that Etho can’t know just because he has a crush and it’s awkward, but because liking Etho is a weakness and Joel doesn’t have weaknesses, thank you very much.

And if Etho’s shoulders slump a bit at the response, Joel pretends he doesn’t notice.

And then the problem is, Etho doesn’t stop.

Joel makes it clear that he wants his space in bed, and Etho doesn’t encroach on that. But he does steal bites of Joel’s food, and sling an arm around his shoulder when they’re visiting the others, and boop his nose playfully when Joel starts to get angry at Grian for hoarding the sugarcane, and slowly look him up and down with a wink whenever he gets up for breakfast—

It’s maddening. It’s maddening, and every single night Joel lies there stiff as a board, inches away from Etho, trying to not let his thoughts wander to where they have so many times before.

He’s right there.

Every time Joel gets away on his own, he lets out a short, frustrated scream. And then he jumps off a hill that’s maybe a bit too high, if only to try and get Etho back for his teasing.

-

The fishing rods are possibly the stupidest thing they’ve ever done.

Not surprising, seeing as Grian’s at the head of this whole thing.

But Joel’s never been one for playing things safe, so he stabs the hook through the back of his shirt (he tugs on the line a few times, just to make sure it’s secure), then waits for Grian’s signal.

The first time is thrilling. The first time he flies up into the air, lands hard and laughs from the sheer adrenaline. Then he hooks Pearl, and Pearl hooks Etho, and they go up—

And Joel knows he’s in trouble for a split second before he’s dead on the ground.

He wakes up gasping, and there’s fire in his veins, there’s fire spreading all across his body and he wants—he needs to kill Pearl, needs her blood—

He rolls out of bed, scrambling for his chest and spare stuff, and then he hears someone else roll out of bed with a groan.

Joel turns, and Etho’s there, hungry fire in his eyes, and Joel needs him.

He practically tackles Etho, yanking down his mask—his lips are pink and soft and hot against Joel’s mouth, molten and perfect and everything he needs to stoke the burning inside—

Etho pushes him off (gently, somehow), and holds up a hand. Joel, somehow, manages to hold himself back. Etho’s—Etho’s right there—

Etho takes in a deep breath, and when he looks up, his eyes are crinkled in that perfect way and he’s smiling.

“Took you long enough,” he teases, and Joel lunges for him again.

-

Their next kiss is slower than that.

After they kill Pearl, and the pounding bloodlust in his head has quelled a bit, Joel leads the way back to the ship. He leans against the railing—and Etho leans next to him—and they  kiss.

It’s lazy, Joel thinks he would say. But not lazy in the way he might be with a build—skipping details and panning over mistakes—, lazy in a comfortable, staying-in-bed-late kind of way.

He kisses Etho, lazy and lovely, warm in the evening sun. And he really, really doesn’t care if anyone’s watching.

Let them watch, he thinks, with an almost vicious pleasure. Etho’s mine.

That makes something deep in his chest silently purr, almost, and when he pulls away to breathe, he clears his throat in a contented kind of way (not a growl, not a purr, but the closest he can get without outright embarrassing himself). Etho perks up at the sound.

“I forgot to tell you, I figured out what that sound you make reminds me of,” he says, and even the excited way he speaks sounds lazy and perfect.

Joel clears his throat again—and yeah, he does do it a lot, come to think of it. “Yeah? What’s that?”

Etho sighs a little bit, tips his head onto Joel’s shoulder. “A tiger. Have you ever heard a tiger chuff?”

Joel laughs at that—his soulmate thinks he sounds like a tiger chuffing, and it’s the most stupidly adorable thing ever.

“Why are you laughing?” Etho asks playfully, nudging Joel. Joel doesn’t answer, just chuckles and clears his throat—or, chuffs like a tiger—and plants a kiss on Etho’s head.

“We could go threaten Scar,” Joel offers after a moment. His blood is starting to boil again, and he knows from lonely experience that only violence can scratch the itch.

Well. Probably only violence. He does notice that it’s a decent bit quieter when he’s aggressively kissing Etho.

Etho stands up straight—taller than Joel when he does that, which is blummin’ obnoxious of him—and slowly, gently, lazily kisses Joel. It’s warm and measured, his tongue teasing at Joel’s slightly parted lips, and it seems to Joel that he only pulls away when he’s memorized the feel of Joel’s lips.

“That sounds like a good date,” he murmurs.

Joel grins, and Etho grins back, his eyes all crinkled, and Joel takes off at a run to swing himself over the opposite railing and climb down the ladder.

Etho catches up moments later, mask fixed back on his face, and Joel pulls out his spyglass to check out where the residents of that giant cake-thing are.

They’re right beside it, as it turns out.

“Scar’s holding a flint n’ steel,” Joel warns, shoving his spyglass in his pocket. “He already took down the Ranch, we might want to be careful of that.”

Etho only scoffs. “If the ship burns, everything burns.”

Unsurprisingly, Joel finds he agrees with that—not that he can ever imagine disagreeing with Etho. He nods.

“If the ship burns, everything burns.”

-

And after everything burns, they burn too.

They’re dying, Joel had come through the portal to find lava and pain, and he screams for Etho to turn back but even if he had they’d still be dead—

He doesn’t even have the chance to glance back at his lover before he burns.

He drifts for a little while, the bitter disappointment of his loss somehow distant when compared to the loss of Etho. The next game will start eventually, and when it does, there’s no way of knowing that Etho will even be there. After all, it’s picked up new players and dropped others as time passed. Joel can’t even remember the original line-up, it’s shifted so much and so many times.

When he lands in the next game, he doesn’t even check his comm before punching apart a tree.

The gimmick isn’t soulmates again, he knows instantly. He’d grown so accustomed to the pull in his chest of Etho that it aches now to not feel him.

(Or maybe that’s just his heart. Same difference, really.)

So Joel tries to put Etho out of his mind and move on with his life. They were never meant to last, anyway. That’s the thing about redstoners and builders—they never work out.

He knew that. He knew they never work out, and he tried to do something with Etho, anyway.

It had been fun while it lasted, of course. It had been . . . perfect, even.

But Joel’s always been a loner, and now that he’s got that Green-life clarity, he can go back to it.

He takes down another tree and has a crafting table and some basic tools put together when someone clears their throat behind him.

Joel jumps, spins around—

Etho’s there, leaning lazily against a tree, and—his eyes are crinkled in that way—

“Miss me?” he teases, and Joel barely has time to drop his wooden pick before he’s storming over, pushing Etho against the tree, tearing his mask down—

The kiss is hard and messy, teeth clicking together and lips sliding apart, and when Joel pulls away to gasp in some air, Etho’s cheeks are flushed and lips bruised and he’s still got that blummin’ smile.

“Right,” Joel breathes.

“Wanna build us a house while I go mining?” Etho offers, and forget whatever loser thoughts Joel had been moping about with! He’s got Etho, there’s no need to be on his own anymore.

Maybe they can even win it, this time. After all, they’re together from the start here. No more acting like an idiot about wanting to be alone or whatever.

Joel watches Etho head off into a cave, stone pick hefted over his shoulder, and can’t help the way his heart skips a beat.

Etho’s his, and when everything burns, they burn together.

[crguang]

I feel like there’s a lot of sacrificing for a joke in hsr, which is definitely annoying especially when it just…doesn’t make sense, tonally and just logically. And I really do wish we found out more abt the TB, and I would’ve like even like a tidbit from firefly since we talk to her sm, we even play as her at the end. Or maybe get an offhand mention abt how she’s not supposed to tell us bc of the script or smth . I def agree w you, I cannot take the ipc seriously, bc there’s all this stuff abt how they’re doing stuff for their own benefit and profit but idk the stuff w the stellaron hunters and them is just so goofy, like it doesn’t make any sense.

ok so, I was looking thru ur blog and I realized I sent a message abt two-ish weeks ago, tumblr probably ate it smh. I was just saying how it was silly that Kafka’s wanted poster literally says she likes coats on it, and her bounty, like that’s it. Shes so sjsjshbsbddbbewv. And I also came up with another fic idea, like Kafka in an idol/band AU, but also I think her being an actor w the other stellaron hunters would be funny. But yk if I ever get around to writing anything instead of Kafka just living in my brain, who would she be in a band with, I was think abt using some of the characters from the animated before the show starts thing, but the instruments just don’t go together. Also I think I need to work on writing Kafka in general, bc she’s so complicated and it’s fun but I also overthink things too much.

And the leaks were unfortunately right abt 4 characters on one side. I’m not as devastated as you ofc, but hopefully I win my 50/50. Hjskalskskskndn I will cry if I loose.

also, no need to apologize for ranting, your rants always make more sense than mine, and I really enjoy your thoughts. -🌠

i agree with you 100%!!! missed opportunity with firefly and the tb reconnecting it could have been so nice. and omg i think i read that ask, it sounds familiar but i have so many (most are really old reqs, the recent ones are the event reqs i keep to answer eventually) and sometimes things get lost or i’ll click on the notification, answer in my head, then go do something else and forget to actually post my reply, im sorry😭😭 but YES i was thinking of kafka’s description in the game and while i know its the objective writing of the game and not the ipc, i find it funny to believe that whoever was in charge of her wanted notice thought she was hot as fuck because “dashing” and “beauty” in the same sentence is crazy work. her bounty is even funnier bc im wondering how they found out that she loved coats like😭 did she steal a bunch (she did), are they rlly monitoring her credit card and seeing all the purchases of expensive coats, is she always found in a store— what is it?!

actor au stellaron hunters would be really fun… you could also just put then in a band together for the idol/band au because i do think they’re the people who understand her best. the thought of kafka and jingliu practicing together is so funny because jingliu would hate that woman like GDJFBFNG her arrogance would have liu clenching that instrument so tight

i dont think you should worry about overthinking when it comes to writing, it can be a weakness because then you focus too much on details and forget the big picture, but personally i also think j too much into things when i write characters like kafka especially. when every genuine emotion is in the twitch of a finger, there’s kinda no choice lol

“im not as devastated as you” is killing me but its true… im the biggest victim of this banner system bc if i dont get my swanie i’ll @)&$(&)@)£<£#%. i hope u win the 50/50, unless i lose mine in which case i hope everyone else also loses <3

[ladypiscesmoon]

Hello everybody, hope you are all well on this Monday! We’ve got rain over here so Summer is far away at the moment. Ever since I saw the film Call me by your name, I’ve been reading for Timothée Chalamet and Armie Hammer. Their bond is very strong an special. It’s no surprise my first reading here will be a reading for Armie, ft. Timmy. You can say I’m a Charmie, so any hate for the boys will not be tolerated on my page. Remember, all readings are alleged and for entertainment purposes only. The reading was done on 24 July

Reading Armie, 24 July 2023

Tarot cards:

King of cups (devoted, balanced, intuitive, compassionate, supportive, empath) Someone very devoted to Armie is keeping him balanced. A very supportive male has his back, I think this is Timmy

9 of pentacles (abundance, luxury, self-sufficiency, self-worth) His finances are looking better, with that his self-worth will increase, he wants to do something independent, something useful

King of swords ambitious, fast-thinking, success driven, assertive, focused) He’s impatient, ready for action, ready to focus on work and something useful. Feeling restless (hence the head shaving, maybe?) Sitting around is not good for him.

The chariot (action, success, movement, forwards, control, willpower, determination opposing forces, working towards a goal) Again: wants to move forwards, wants to be working towards a goal. Also something together with Tim I hear, so maybe a project together of some kind

Deck: Kipper

Healthy man(13) (a younger man, good news, also with money matters) Better times are coming for him, also financially. A good period for their relationship, and also jobs wise. All in all better than before.

Great fortune(26) (good luck, new opportunities, in jobs, improvement in relationship) I also pick up Tim doing something for Armie, or doing something with him. Again I hear: together.

Courtship (4) (getting together, seducing) They’re going away together like a weekend or a short trip, they want to meet up, make plans, lots of cuddles - and more -

Main male(1) (important male in Armie’s life) the most important male in Armie’s life is Timmy (aside from his son)

Deck: Fairytale Lenormand

House: with house I feel there is a new house on the horizon for Armiebig enough for the children also now he’s got partial custody. I also pick up he and Tim will try to have a place together but how that will play out with the children is something they have to think about

Birds: minor hiccups, little fights, discussions, but they will figure it out. Plus they like banter and teasing that’s just the way they are together

Stork: something new beginning. In a way Armie starts over again.

Bouquet: lots of happiness. I feel this will be an easier period for Armie although he gets restless. He wants to move things along. He still has lots to figure out.

Deck: Chakra wisdom oracle cards:

Service (sacral chakra) For me: he’s someone always helping, serving, taking care of someone and being there for other people. He’s got to learn to do things for himself too, and learn that he can enjoy that

Destiny (crown chakra) What do yóu want? Take a risk form your own destiny. Now that you have found true love, go for it, together you’re stronger. It’s complicated but so much worth it.

Perception(heart chakra) The heart knows what the eyes can not see. The past is the past, let it be. Upwards and onwards. Allow yourself to feel good. He feels a bit sad at times, but only he can do something about it. Transformation is in the heart. What needs ending in your life? Focus on that. The experience will be richer if you allow it.

Impasse(sacral chakra) he’s a bit blocked, he doesn’t see the light at the end of the tunnel. He’s got to allow himself to heal and to feel loved. Refocus, change direction if necessary. It will be okay in the end.

How are Armie and Timmy doing together (small check-in)

Deck: True love oracle

Connection: working on their connection, relationship

Inner peace: loving yourself benefits your relationship

Sexuality: sexuality blossoms in an atmosphere of trust and intimacy

Yin and Yang: love and friendship. Strive for harmony and balance, through change, reflection and growth.

Maturity: be responsible for your own happiness

Reparenting yourself: free yourself from the past, you are more able to give and receive love in the present

Theirs is still a new relationship (I think they’ve been together in the past, but it wasn’t exclusive until recently. So, they still have to figure out a lot and learn a lot about how to be a couple. Sometimes that’s still a challenge with everything happening around them. But they’re getting better at it.

Deck: love oracle deck

Heart with a key: opening their heart, welcoming love. ‘The one’ realising what he’s got.

Paradise: finding a paradise like situation, happiness, joy, playfulness, enjoying what they have together. After a more difficult time (being apart physically was really hard for Tim) moving forward and being playful with each other/ happy, ‘we against the world.

Stabbed in the back: they had their challenges and difficulties while Armie was away (Caymans, holiday) Tim felt betrayed and blindsided by the pictures with Lisa although he had absolute no right after the PR sham with Kylie, but still he was hurt.

Passion: Insane chemistry, having fun, liking each other equally, sexual thoughts, I think they have plans to meet up soon ( just after the reading Timmy left NY and headed to LA)

How does Timmy feel about Armie

Same deck: love oracle

Passion: see what I wrote above ☺️

Healing heart: healing from heartbreak. He’s slowly letting go, wants to go back to what they had before Armie went on his extended trip, because that was really good. It happened, let it go.

Cassette: replaying events over in his head, he’s got to let go of the past and also still has a little trouble of trusting Armie completely, but he gets better at it and it will be okay in the end.

Stabbed in the back: he really felt betrayed, but was a bit harsh, knowing what he himself has to do for his work and his reputation, so it wasn’t really fair to Armie.

He’ll find the way back, he always does. I feel him being a bit anxious again, also about work. He very much wants to be with Armie and cuddle. Find some peace and some rest. The arguments they have are meaningless and petty if you look at their story together, but like I said I think they like the banter too.

Here ends the reading, I hope you enjoyed and please don’t hesitate to ask me any question about it!

*Alleged For Entertainment Purposes Only

[f0point5]

I am late to the party but I just wanted to add that I don’t think it’s okey to claim that Bianca got the sponsorship based on her looks and then to go ahead and claim that there will be other women a lot prettier than her. It wasn’t you that said that but in general I think she definitely messed up and deserves to be criticised for it and for her to pull the autistic brother card is a new low for her PR but people shouldn’t go for looks imo especially not compare women’s looks in motorsport (or in general) like we can compare their driving as we should I mean it’s a competitive sport but looks shouldn’t have to do anything with it. No one goes: ”oh there will be a new driver like Max in a few years who will be more handsome“ yk

I do agree with you though that Bianca isn’t the strongest driver and there were other women that deserved the sponsorship but if we consider that she was very present and hyped on social media then it makes sense that McLaren chose her simply from a PR/ business perspective yk.

Well, someone said in the ask said she got it because of her looks, which I found out of pocket and a comment that didn’t respect the nuance of the situation and I said that.

That said, I do think her social media following bought the McLaren sponsorship, and I own that. And yes part of that is down to her looks, but also to what was a VERY smart social media strategy, and even if it was her looks, no one should take that away from her. However she got the following, she knows/knew her audience.

I’m not sure how much we can really talk about her driving though, considering she was statistically incredibly mid, and yet the first/one of the first sponsored F1 Academy drivers to be signed/announced, by a team known for liking a young marketing juggernaut. I don’t know who could argue her driving is what makes her employable at this point.

People don’t say that about Max, because Max has proven himself as a driver.

But people do say that about Daniel Ricciardo, not about his looks specifically but his marketability, that there will come another funny/popular driver and he will get dropped.

I think the focus on “looks” is misogynistic but even with male drivers, if they’re not paying for their place with driving but with marketing, that will be talked about. “Looks” alone has nothing to do with it but marketing massively does and has in her case.

I mean, she has a bee in her bonnet about Lance being a pay driver but he did better in an F3 car than she has.

On the other hand, I don’t agree that anyone deserve the sponsorship more than her, because at the end of the day the people making that decision was McLaren. Maybe she didn’t “deserve” it if you’re only going by driving stats but that’s not all that’s taken into account.

Tbh I think she probably had a lot of people waiting in the wings to hate her because her social media presence is indisputably pretty cringe and imo she’s never come off great in it. So people are probably taking this opportunity to be a bit bitter now that it’s suddenly allowed

[hermitsmirror]

Spread: Pressing the Advantage

Creatively rethinking the 7 of Swords

The 7 of Swords is one of those cards that tarot readers seem to hate, whether they’re new to reading tarot or they’ve been reading for decades. 

There are good reasons for this, but it’s a limited perspective on the card’s nuances and the potential for seizing opportunity with the clever thinking of this Aquarian energy.

I discuss my take on the 7 of Swords through its many layers of interpretation on HermitsMirror.com/musings, but you can also enjoy the spread without all the context and understanding.

The Chance: What opportunity is ripe for decisive action?

The Booty: How will it help me get where I want to go?

The Sacrifice: What will I have to abandon in the process?

The Trial: Where will my integrity be tested?

The Wit: How will unconventional thinking help me make the most of the situation?

The Vigilance: When might I have to cut and run?

The Survival instinct: What’s my exit strategy if things don’t work out?

[emotionally-charged-arson]

2am Transitus thoughts since I can’t do fanart right now.

I am THE number one Lavinia apologist, idk what exactly Arjen was doing with her but her being desperate and going to Henry because she wanted the screaming ghosts in her head to stop and Daniel happened to have this dickhead for a brother makes a lot of sense to me.

On the flip side, I have no idea why they threw the “also I’m totally cool with killing my daughter for monetary gain” motivation in there. I’m sorry it makes zero sense to me and I hate the Wicked Stepmother trope as it is.

Why is she married to Abraham in the first place then? What solid reason do Abby and her have to hate each other when Abraham seems like a grounded, reasonable human being he who knows an evil white lady when he sees one? Why does Lavinia, in a conversation WITH HERSELF, say that she regrets what she did to Abby and should go and comfort her after Message From Beyond? Why is the character designed to resemble the “”Gypsy”” archetype a greedy and untrustworthy troublemaker for no genuine reason??

Last point notwithstanding, her motivation in canon just confuses the hell out of me. Through the entire second act she oscillates between a desperate, suffering woman who just wants Daniel to leave her alone that Henry takes advantage of, and a calculating evil witch character that’s just as shitty as Henry himself. Pick a lane, lady.

I have this pile of retcons and headcanons where I just completely got rid of the inheritance-chasing fortune teller persona and made Lavinia’s ability to see Daniel completely spontaneous (though she does have some backstory it makes a little sense for that I completely made up out of thin air, may talk about that later but we’ll see how this post does). The short version is that she’s the same as everyone else. A normal person loves their family, who endures a horrible experience, whose horrible experience is only amplified by their low socioeconomic status, and who is brutally taken advantage of by Henry to a violent end. She did some awful shit but ultimately it comes down to Henry being a manipulative asshole. Lovely.

…but then my aunt bought me this little aesthetic pack of tarot cards last nigtt he and I started reading about the history of this occult stuff in Western countries. And it got me thinking about another way she could be characterized.

I’m not gonna go into a tangent about this but the point is all that divination stuff like tarot cards, ouija, crystal balls etc became popular as novelty in the 1880s and 90s, especially in England and the United States. There were of course occultists who took it seriously but in widespread terms it was sold as what it was today. A harmless little game.

I dunno. Maybe Lavinia got really into that stuff as a hobby and that’s why it’s not weird that Abraham is married to a “”witch.”” Maybe she has it in the back of her head that none of it is real, just a way to kill time and a quirk of her personality.

Then Daniel dies, and she starts seeing spirits. With no genuine explanation. In desperation she associates it with her stuff and tries to talk to him that way, but it’s like Ayreon and his visions. He doesn’t know about Time Telepathy and she doesn’t know about the “crossroads” world Daniel is spending an unusual amount of time in. Little pointless explanations of something far bigger than they can envision.

Abraham doesn’t believe her and thinks it’s just her being way too serious about her occult stuff while he’s busy trying to keep his daughter from regressing any further than she has.

Henry is the only one who will talk to her and go along with her terrified ramblings, not because he believes her but he sees an opportunity in a clearly hysterical woman and she’ll be more cooperative if he pretends all of it is real.

Then she dies, and through it is forcefully disillusioned from her little games even though they’re all she could hold onto for an explanation.

I dunno.

[derinthescarletpescatarian]

Ask Me Anything -- Tinera

Do you like Aspen calling you Tiny?

It’s the obvious nickname I always end up with.

You seem like a pragmatic/straight forward person, have you always been so, or have life circumstances had more of an influence in shaping you this way?

I don’t know. Have yours? People are people.

What would be your ideal way to spend a rest day?

I used to be really good at beer pong, which is very messy in lunar gravity.

Do you still feel strongly against the way PUFs alter their brains?

The behaviour-altering brain damage? Why is this even a question? What’s wrong with you?

What are your thoughts on recent developments with the bacteria in the chronostasis pods?

I’m not a scientist. But I assume at this point that everything we learn is just going to be even more fucked up.

Do you feel hopeful that the ship & crew will make it to your destination safely?

Well there’s not exactly any other positive results to hope for. So yes.

What's your biggest regret?

Oh we’re getting weirdly personal huh?

What is the thing you hate the most?

Answering intrusive personal questions from strangers.

What you love the most?

Not answering intrusive personal questions from strangers.

Do you think about your life in earth or you try to avoid thinking about it?

I’ve never been to Earth except for my time in prison. Which is similar to being in Lunar prison except much safer.

Do you have or want to have children?

If we end up establishing a place where anyone would want to raise children before I grow old and die it’ll be a fucking miracle.

If you have to pick one of your crewmates to be locked with in a small room for 24hrs, who you pick?

Denish.

*if it comes to this* would you be willing to lead a rebellion against the corporate overlords when it’s time to land on hylara?

Nobody who’s part of the crew who fails so utterly as to let any overlords get established should be leading any rebellion because they’ve already proven that they’re incompetent. We hold all the cards right now. Some people are a bit upset that hard decisions might have to be made, but come on man. “If you managed to set an entire city block on fire, would you take charge of the firefighting crew to put the fire out?” Don’t be stupid.

I know you’re not very familiar with fauna, because you were born on Luna. When you get to the planet, will you be interested in getting a pet (from earth, such as a cat or something) or helping domesticate an animal from the new planet?

I think we have very different ideas about the resource priorities when terraforming an entirely new planet that’s literally lightyears further from Earth than anyone has ever gone.

Not sure what you mean about domesticating an animal on the planet. All the animals that are gonna be on the planet are in our freezers. Anything worth domesticating in there is already domesticated. Why would the new planet open new domestication opportunities.

[mrsbsmooth]

based off the fact that we already had two double dates with amelia, i kind of think that the one theory of mc and amelia both coming first and winning love island based off a tie could potentially be on the table. if fusebox ever pull that card i’m going to be absolutely done playing any season not just going forward but any season all together.

season 6 was definitely better than the last dumpster fire of a season, it’s been an small improvement but i feel like there’s no proper replay ability especially with the wlw routes and everything feels so linear and mundane. all the love interests sort of morph together in one minus a few short bonus lines to and a bit of flavour text and it’s been disappointing to see.

i love ozzy’s character but the execution and the wasted opportunities and potential to do so much more fell flat and the only reason i chose to couple up with him at the final recoupling is from the fan fiction i’ve read from authors like you who’ve shined so much light onto fleshing out all of the murky details.

anyways i’m sure some would say season 6 did great but in all honesty to me, it was just …okay.

If they do this to us, I’m slamming my fist on the table and pointing an accusatory finger at Fusebox.

Hamish works for them. His character was a self insert. Hamish would write that shit.

Honestly though, I’m actually not hating on season six. I think overwhelmingly the writing is about the same as season four, but I think the challenges are a little bit better done. I mainly just take point of the season for because of the goddamn fucking musical challenge and the compliment battle, both of which belong in the depths of hell.

However, credit where credits due, the actual characters for the season are fucking amazing. I know their dialogue is very similar, but Hamish is very different to Marshall who is very different to Andy. When we do get snippets of their characterisation, they’re really great. And as a fanfic writer personally, that’s what really matters. I’m gonna be taking the characters and putting them in different situations regardless, so I don’t need their dialogue in Villa to be perfect. I just need the characters to be unique and engaging, and I think they are.

Unlike season five. Who the fuck wants to write something about Alfie?

[confuzzledsani]

Title and summary card speaks for itself, but basically I was watching the show and while I was watching the fan girl scenes with Oikawa I wondered what would happen if one of those girls took it too far. How would Oikawa react to a situation like this?

This was essentially my way of exploring the male perspective when it comes to situations like this. Obviously per societal norms men are supposed to be emotionally vacant, sexual deviants, so when it comes to cases of assault they, as many other groups of people, go unheard as they “can’t be assaulted, because they’re men, and all men want sex at every opportunity” (a literal quote from someone I used to go to school with. Needless to say we don’t talk anymore).

I wanted to particularly explore it with Oikawa because of his character’s ego, and how it would take being attacked by a woman in this way and exploring his mental process through it.

HOWEVER! I am in no way an expert and what I wrote doesn’t come from experience at all. If something in this comes off as not authentic to your or someone you know’s experience please know that I absolutely do not mean any harm by this. I just feel that this is an important topic that needs to be discussed but isn’t, and the best way I can do that is through writing. Please let me know what you think!

!!!!!TRIGGER WARNING!!!!!

This fic is dark. There is violence, non-consensual touching/sexual harassment, and LGBTQ+ slurs/hate speech. Rated M for a reason, so if this triggers you this may not be the fic for you.

You can read this fic here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32933002

Want to check out the series? Find it here!: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2422360

P.S.,

I didn’t mention before, but the fics in the “What If?” Series aren’t necessarily related, so you don’t have to read them in any particular order. In the future, I may or may not write sequels for some of them if the inspiration strikes. Until then, happy reading!

[toastspirit]

I am trying to vent my frustrations but I am so angry and scared and sad that I can’t find the words

I don’t think any ‘sacrifice’ I make will EVER be enough for my family. Every decision I’ve allowed them to force me to make. Every instance where I have offered them my time.

“Sometimes you have to make sacrifices for the people you love,” yeah sure but these things leave me with hurts that just. Do not heal. I feel like a glass pane that gets repeatedly stomped on, hastily taped back together, then thrown back out into the street.

I don’t know if I’m even capable of forgiving them for this stuff anymore

Haven’t forgiven my dad for the Thanksgiving thing. Haven’t forgiven him for calling me weak. Every time my mom says something (kind) about the length of my hair it brings back that old fury, where I had zero control over my appearance until I was in fucking high school.

What went wrong? What happened to that ‘bright’ mind? Could I have turned out normal? Will I ever be stable? Will I ever be able to thrive and not just be stuck trying to see the next week, hoping it is kinda than the previous one?

Wow this is a lot of words for something I couldn’t find the words for. That’s because these are mostly old hurts and not what is currently freaking me out :) which I have skimmed around.

As cliche as it is, i was one of those kids that was called “mature for my age”, but now… I’m just so childish.

Like, there’s that tip I’ve seen floating around. “Children prefer items, but people prefer experiences as they get older”. Something like that

And it’s just a dumb generalization but it still makes me feel bad. Because I would take a pokemon plushie over 90% of the trips I’ve been on.

There are SOME experiences I like. But only on my own terms. And doing them with family ruins them…

I’ve been so fortunate. And the boons of the lucky cards I’ve dealt? Largely things I hate. My family is affectionate. They make me feel smothered and controlled. They love me unconditionally. I feel guilty that they care about me at all. They’re able to afford vacations so we can see new places. I end up crying silently while everyone else sleeps because I’m so stressed out and unhappy and just want to go home.

And now I don’t feel safe anywhere. I don’t want to be in my dorm. I definitely don’t want to be home. The world is terrifying. I’m too weak to push myself to be brave and tackle my fears outright. I can’t take advantage of the precious opportunities I’ve been given because I’m so miserable that just trying to find the will to keep going is already so hard. I’m too anxious to sleep. I can barely force myself to eat actual food, let alone proper meals. I finally FINALLY booked a therapy appointment but I’m still scared that I’m going to be too honest and get sent to the psych ward and then I’d get behind in everything and I’d also lose access to my stuffed animals which are embarrassingly a large portion of what little stability I have

It’s ALL SO STUPID. I KNOW THAT MY EMOTIONS ARE TIED TO DUMB SHIT BUT LOGIC DOESN’T MAKE THEM NOT HURT

Several years ago, my brother told me that I would never survive in the real world.

And he was right.

Because if I’m this much of a wreck when things aren’t even that bad, I’m going to be completely fucked when they get worse.

I just want the hurt to stop.

I’d rather feel nothing than feel this kind of pain and terror

[fucktherain]

11 APRIL 2024 (Thu) 8:59 pm

I. REBIRTH

I’m writing here as a personal journal of me trying to become better. I’m tired of feeling so, so, so sad every day, all the time, and I know others are too. I want to become better for my boyfriend. I want to change my mindset and become better and improve on all aspects of my life. Though I wasn’t dealt the best card from birth, I know I have so many things I have been granted in this life. So many things to be grateful for, like my family, my boyfriend, my friends, my material possessions, my opportunities (education, lifestyle), my experiences, and myself. I need to continuously realize and hammer that into my head that I am worth something and I am capable of becoming better. I have done that so many times throughout my life and this is just the rain that comes every now and then.

I was thinking about what to write for this first entry in the shower. I came up with the metaphor of my mental health struggles as the rain. I don’t like the rain. And I’m sure it’s not original whatsoever, but it seems to work. 

Anyway, UK weather is a fickle being and it’ll be sunny one second, then rainy the next. You’ll look outside and it’s bright and nice. You feel good. Then you wake up, and now it’s raining. It’s dark, stormy, loud, scary, horrible. You have to go out, eventually. So you do, and you put on your boots and raincoat. But those things won’t help keep you completely dry. You’ll still get soaked. Worse comes to worst, you slip into a fucking puddle in the midst of this shitty storm and your day is even more ruined. You get home and you’re dirty. You get the house dirty and wet. You feel like shit. But you feel like you can’t really tell anyone about this because it feels like complaining. Especially when this rain is constant now. You can’t see the sun anymore, and it’s been days, then weeks, then months. At first you can kind of bear with it, but this ceaseless fucking rain just won’t stop and the first thing you see every morning is the dark sky and rain, that you know you have to go out and face, over and over again. You get moody, frustrated, angry, sad. You can’t even blame anyone for it. What are you going to do, lodge a complaint against the sky? Curse God? 

– but the thing is, you realize that nobody else, at least not that you can visibly see, is going through this shitty constant rainstorm. It’s just you. You feel like it’s so unfair. You start looking at most people with envy. You wish you were that happy. You wish you could be enjoying and basking in the sun like they are. They are able to appreciate all the things in life; going on cute dates with their partners, going out with friends to the beach, hell, even just walking around normally. You hate that you’re the only one afflicted with this strange phenomenon. Now you can start to blame someone – you. You somehow did something to deserve this suffering. Everyone else is normal. They’re good people who get good things. Therefore, you’re bad and you are worth nothing. It will never get better, the way things are looking. It will rain forever.

And so on. I carried on with this metaphor for long enough, longer than I thought I could. I probably could say more. But I think you might get the gist.

Circling back to the original point, my resolve is to become better. I’m going to try to change the way I think to become more positive. I know it sounds all cringe and hokey-pokey (is that how you call it?), but only I can help myself. I’m going to take things day by day, step by step. It’s the only thing I know to keep me alive. When I think too far into the future, I get a little freaked out and too existential and get suicidal all over again. I’ll say nicer things to myself. I’ll stop being so negative. I’ll try things to improve myself. I’ll write lists of gratitude (I do that already, but it doesn’t hurt to do them more). Etcetera. 

Today, I’m proud that I got out of bed and did so many chores. I’ve been really sick (fever of ~39C, feeling hot and cold simultaneously, shivering, waking up in the middle of the night from feeling so ill, constant headaches, and now a very sore throat), so I could have shrugged off my responsibilities, using my illness as an excuse. But I didn’t. I got fed up halfway through the day of how miserable I am and I decided to begin the change. I might fail, but there is also an equal chance I might not.* 

I managed to:

cook some food (even if it wasn’t the best)

wash the dishes

make tea

organize / clean up my flat a little

clean my toilet (rough with my fever going but I did it)

clear my vacuum

call to cancel an appointment (even if I was awkward)

shower

write a gratitude list

These are not big things in the grand scheme of things, but I’m trying my best. I should be proud of myself. I am proud of myself. I am proud that I am taking my first steps. I am resilient and I will continue to persevere, like I’ve done for the past 2 decades. Yes, I still overthink, but I’m going to try to override those bad thoughts and turn them into something nicer. I will try to be nicer to myself. Yes, I still feel suicidal and I still wish I died from my suicide attempts, but we’ll ignore that. Those thoughts don’t do anything but negatively impact me. I am a deeply flawed individual but I will improve. I have to. It’s either do or don’t.

*If I fail this challenge of becoming better, I’m probably dead, and you are reading the entries of a deranged, mentally ill, dead girl. But if I don’t, that’s lovely. This can be something I look back on and it’ll encourage me to keep going. Either way, very interesting stuff.