#as in almost 6 years whoops

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Hello!! So, I saw an argument about Harry's uhm looks? I guess. A lot of people basically headcanon him as someone buff. I digress, I'm part of the uhm more realistic? group. Harry's been starved and abused his entire life. I doubt he'll gain the weight and the height everyone else wants him to have. Years later. maybe. But in 6th year? While on the run? 3 years after the war? Doubt. do you think he would be able to get super tall and buff? Also, do you think its possible he used the same methods the dursleys used to punish himself?

I mean, anyone can headcanon whatever they want, but, I'll try to explain via quotes, what Harry's height and muscle situation is likely to be. I believe the reasons some headcanon him as buff and tall are:

Harry had pinned Mundungus against the wall of the pub by the throat. Holding him fast with one hand, he pulled out his wand.

(HBP)

He lifts Mundungus by his throat with one hand easily, and he practices Quidditch like 3 times a week at least. This implies that Harry has some muscle on him.

And he's mentioned to be James' height when he's 17:

James was exactly the same height as Harry.

(DH)

Which was supposedly tall, according to both, Harry:

tall and untidy-haired like Harry, the smoky, shadowy form of James Potter

(GoF)

And Voldemort:

the tall black-haired man in his glasses

(DH)

Now, let's put Harry's height in the context of other character heights. Particularly of interest are characters taller than him, to get an image of how tall is "tall." And some shorter characters to help figure out his exact height.

Sirius, Ron, Voldemort, and Dumbledore are all taller than Harry and exceptionally tall in general. They are each likely to be over 6 feet tall, making Harry likely less than 6' (183 cm). Supporting this is this quote:

Once the painful transformation was complete he was more than six feet tall, and from what he could tell from his well-muscled arms, powerfully built.

(DH)

This means Harry is less than 6' and isn't super buff. But, I want to get to his specific height, because I have a lot to say about character heights.

Like, Dumbledore is probably the tallest character who isn't a half-giant because he's towering over everyone except Hagrid and Maxime. In book 6, he's literally taller than all the inferi in the cave:

Dumbledore was on his feet again, pale as any of the surrounding Inferi, but taller than any too,

(HBP)

And Abeforth (who's as tall as Dumbledore) is taller than Ron, who's one of the other tallest characters in the books:

Ron looked slightly sick. Aberforth stood up, tall as Albus, and suddenly terrible in his anger and the intensity of his pain.

(DH)

Making the Dumbledores really tall. My estimate is around a whooping 6'5 (195 cm).

Sirius is mentioned to be taller than Snape, and the tallest Marauder:

said Sirius, standing up. He was rather taller than Snape

(OotP)

To Sirius’s right stood Pettigrew, more than a head shorter

(DH)

A head, in height, should be around one foot (30.48 cm). As the average height of a man in England in 1998 was around 5'8 (174.4 cm), this would make Sirius around 6'2 (188 cm), therefore taller than average, and Pettigrew around 5'2 (157 cm), shorter than the average, but still both at a reasonable height.

Ron is almost as tall as the twins at 11:

“Shut up,” said Ron again. He was almost as tall as the twins already and his nose was still pink where his mother had rubbed it.

(PS)

And, just, really tall in general:

He stepped forward. Not as tall as Ron, he had to crane his neck to read the yellowish label affixed to the shelf right beneath the dusty glass ball.

(OotP)

So I estimate Ron at around 6'3 (190 cm).

Voldemort who grew up on war rations is still described very consistently as tall, regardless of childhood malnourishment:

He was his handsome father in miniature, tall for eleven years old, dark-haired, and pale

(HBP)

tall, pale, dark-haired, and handsome — the teenage Voldemort.

(HBP)

Taller than Bellatrix (who's taller than Harry). Voldemort is also considerably taller than Pettigrew, as he has to bend to reach Pettigrew's arm when both are standing:

Voldemort bent down and pulled out Wormtail’s left arm; he forced the sleeve of Wormtail’s robes up past his elbow

(GoF)

I usually place Voldemort at around the same height as Ron, so 6'3 (190 cm).

Fred and George, though, are mentioned to be shorter and stockier, more similar to Molly's build:

Charlie was built like the twins, shorter and stockier than Percy and Ron, who were both long and lanky.

(GoF)

but are mentioned to shrink to become Harry in book 7:

Hermione and Mundungus were shooting upward; Ron, Fred, and George were shrinking

(DH)

I actually place the twins around 6' (183 cm) so they could be taller than Harry, but shorter than Ron. The twins are likely taller than Charlie.

Bellatrix, as a woman, should also be shorter on average, but considering how tall Sirius is mentioned to be, it appears the Blacks are just considerably taller than the average, even the women:

a tall dark woman with heavy-lidded eyes, who had stood at her trial and proclaimed her continuing allegiance to Lord Voldemort

(OotP)

She was taller than he was, her long black hair rippling down her back, her heavily lidded eyes disdainful as they rested upon him;

(DH)

So I place her at around 6' (183 cm) as well, as an exceptionally tall lady.

So where does this place Harry?

During the first 4 books, Harry is short and small for his age. When he's 13, he and Hermione are bit shorter than Pettigrew:

He was a very short man, hardly taller than Harry and Hermione.

(PoA)

(Ron, noticeably, is taller than Pettigrew at 13)

So, so Harry at 13 was around 5'1 (155 cm). And so was Hermione.

Then in between books 4 and 5 puberty kicks in and probably causes a slight growth spurt that makes him more attractive to girls around him:

Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown, the last two of whom gave Harry airy, overly friendly greetings that made him quite sure they had stopped talking about him a split second before. He had more important things to worry about, however:

(OotP)

And then he has another, larger growth spurt between books 5 and 6:

“You’re like Ron,” she [Molly] sighed, looking him up and down. “Both of you look as though you’ve had Stretching Jinxes put on you. I swear Ron’s grown four inches since I last bought him school robes.

(HBP)

“And it doesn’t hurt that you’ve grown about a foot over the summer either,” Hermione finished, ignoring Ron. “I’m tall,” said Ron inconsequentially. [Ron is objectively correct]

(HBP)

Post book 6 growth spurt, we know Harry is below 6' (183 cm) but close enough to 6' to be above the average of 5'8 (174.4 cm) and be considered "tall", and grow "about a foot" after said growth spurt.

I personally place his height at 5'11 (180 cm), to make all of the above make sense.

And while he is physically fit, he is likely very thin from years of malnourishment. So, he likely has some muscle on him, but he's very lean with little to no fat during his Hogwarts years (he'd likely gain more weight as an adult living peacefully with regular meals). So, Harry in the books isn't what I'd call buff, but he has some muscle and can definitely throw a punch. As he grows older post-canon, I think he could get buff if he set his mind to it.

(I actually have notes about the height of a bunch of other characters. Hermione is shorter than Harry and Ron, but noticeably taller than Ginny (5'1 or 155 cm - edited Ginny's height since I think she's shorter than the former estimate of 5'2. Bellatrix says “Very well — take the smallest one,” with Hermione and Luna (who's also short) present, so Ginny is really short) and probably around 5'4 (162 cm) by book 7. Draco is said to be slightly taller than Harry "Harry did not dare look directly at Draco, but saw him obliquely; a figure slightly taller than he was" - DH, placing Draco at around 6' (183 cm))

For your other question, no, I don't think Harry self-harms, definitely not in any way related to the Dursleys, but that's a different post because I went off about heights.

[nvtstvrns]

𝐵𝓊𝓃 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒪𝓋𝑒𝓃

Dad!matt, mom!reader

Summary: you already have a three year old kid and you’re currently 26 weeks (6 months) pregnant with your second kid. You can’t get your toddler to sleep and you get overwhelmed, Matt helps you.

Contains: dad!matt, fluff, pregnancy, toddler, mentions of anxiety.

Authors note: the unborn baby is going to be referred to as bun and the three year old is going to be named Aria (It’s too confusing to call it b/n)

Divider creds: me

I was laying in Matt and I’s shared bed, Matt was laying next to me on his phone and Aria was sitting in between us, her little head was rested on my belly, where another baby is currently growing. I brush my hands through Aria’s soft hair and she watches Peppa Pig.

“Hey Ari, it’s time to go to bed, do you wanna tell daddy night night?” I ask the little girl resting on my belly, I forgot it was almost 10pm and she needed her sleep.

“No! Ion wanna go sleep!” She says her little arms crossing over her chest. She pouts next to me continuing to watch the tv.

“Matt a little help here?” I say tapping his shoulder making sure he wasn’t asleep or something. “She won’t go to bed.”

Matt turns to face us and he picks Aria up. “Come on Aria, don’t be so sad, you’ll see us and bun tomorrow morning.” He says looking over at my belly. I rub my hand on it and look up at Matt smiling softly.

“Yeah Ari, you need your sleep to grow big and strong.” I tell her. She crosses her arms again and lets out a “hmmph.” I roll my eyes and I pick her up off of Matt’s lap. “Let’s go sweetheart.”

“No! I wan daddy!” She says pulling away from me and while she was flailing her arms and legs she kicks my stomach. “Oh God…” I say putting a hand on my stomach and giving Aria back to Matt.

“Hey are you okay?” He asks quickly getting up out of bed to see if I was okay. “Did she kick you hard?”

“No I’m okay, I was just a little sore.” I say rubbing circles on my stomach.

“Okay, you’re gonna get in bed and you’re gonna go to sleep while I put Aria to bed, you aren’t getting up for anything, I’ll get it for you if you need it.” Matt says picking Aria up and starts carrying her to her bedroom.

I lay back in bed and smile contently. I had such a perfect guy taking care of me and our sweet daughter, and I could tell that he personally loves whenever he gets any kind of personal time with her. I remember when I first found out I was pregnant he wanted a girl more than anything in this world and when we opened that envelope to see what it was he was ecstatic. He jumped around and whooped, he told every single person in his family that we were having a girl, he was so so proud especially the day that she was born, he even cried that day. So seeing him take care of her now made me really happy to see.

When he came back to the bedroom I was half asleep with Peppa Pig still playing in the background. He quietly crawls into bed and turns the tv off. “Ooh baby, finally some alone time with my favorite girl.” He says kissing my cheek gently.

“I was just about to go to sleep Matt.” I say opening my eyes gently,

“Oh I’m sorry, go to sleep baby, do you want me to rub your head for you? I know you had a headache earlier.” I dismiss his offer with a wave of my hand as I slowly fall asleep.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

When I wake up the next morning Matt had already gotten Aria up and changed into her day clothes, she was already eating breakfast and watching her morning cartoons.

“Oh my god Matt, you’re too good to me.” I say taking it all in. I sit at the counter and he gets me a plate of food.

“I’m just being helpful, after Bun is born I’m gonna be working double, I’m trying to get the idea so I won’t be overwhelmed,” he says digging into his own breakfast.

“You’re too good to me.” I say after I swallow a forkful of eggs.

“Just taking care of my girls.” He says coming to kiss my cheek softly.

Sorry this one was a little short, I didn’t know what to put in there to make it longer, I hope you enjoyed and have a great day!

[elbdot]

You know what? This year may have been THE most chaotic one yet in EVERY aspect of the word - but it surely was my most productive year as well! As many emotionally ups and downs as I had, as hard it was to distract yourself from the CHAOS of the world and the justified anger, fear and frustration of the people, I can still say that my year has been more positive than the ones before! I feel different - more like...myself. MORE me. Almost complete. And I have the strong desire to show more of myself out there, to be seen and recognized for what I do and who I am, I want my work to go OUT THERE, to make new friends and find new business partners so I can finally go ALL OUT and republish my books - and I did actually form new friendships this year, more in one year than I did in the past 6 years combined, it's incredible! I stepped out there and made new friends by not even particularly DOING anything - I was just me: A pure bug nerd walking with Maybugs and wild bees on my hands through the streets - that's how I met MULTIPLE people this year.

And I gave myself the space and time to flourish artistically in EVERY direction - From Fakemon Designs to animal studies, horse illustrations, realistic styles, comic styles, personal-, fan- and Pokemoncomics, traditional animation, puppet animation, Photography, SKITS on Youtube - EVERYTHING I wanted to do I DID and I am VERY PROUD that I was able to see through and finish almost everything I started this year or had begun to work on the year before!

There's so much I still want to do and I hope to achieve next year - when I hopefully am more in power again, when my body has recovered from its current whooping cough, when I can contact agencies again. And I really hope social media will become more kind to us artists again, when we currently have to struggle so much with algorithms who want us to be influencers and content machines to post daily. That's why I'm really grateful for my community here on tumblr and the fact that it is not being dictated by an unforgiving algorithm like twitter and Instagram is. On here you actually still have a chance to be seen.

Thank you all SO MUCH for your support this year! Especially those of you, who decided to join my community on Patreon and have become part of my Discord server. You guys have lifted my spirit in ways I couldn't describe and I'm so happy to have such a kind and incredibly generous community! Truly, thank you all so much for being here!

Onward to 2024, let's hope it will treat us all with gentleness and kindness 🥹🥰💖💕

Socials | Patreon

[mrcavill88]

Despondency turned rapture

Pairing: Stepdad Andy Barber x Stepson Male reader

Summary: A recent family passing took a deep toll on you. Never have you ever felt so isolated from humanity. The only thing keeping you going are the lewd activities between you and your stepfather

Word count: 2.1k+

Warnings: 18+, ANGST, mentions of death, SMUT, age gap (reader just turned 18, Andy is 42) drunk Andy, reader is a stoner, intimacy in the shower, Dom Andy, deep kissing, skin biting, stripping, spanking, fingering, prostate orgasm, oral sex, face fucking, unprotected sex, cum control, breeding, cuddling

A/N: Hey everyone thanks for all your support lately. This is my first Steve only fic, hope you enjoy! (If you have any questions/requests, feel free to ask me in my bio;)

You're not quite sure how your life crumbled apart so easily. One moment you're frolicking in the park with your beloved mother and stepfather, then you're hyperventilating in a hospital hoping your mother's life could see another day.

*FLASHBACK 6 MONTHS*

"Mom! P-please *sniffle* please stay with me!" you pled as you tightly gripped your mothers hand, her body laying near lifeless on the hospital bed. "Sir! Why are you in the room? Your mother is in a fragile state I understand your pain but you need to exit immediately!" the frantic doctor yelled as he tried to pry you from your mother.

"Get the hell off me!" you yelled as you shoved the doctor into the concrete wall. "Mom! Mom! Answer me!" you cried as tears stained your cheeks, feeling helpless as your mother remains unresponsive.

And then it came

The longest, most heartbreaking beep you've ever heard in your whole life. The beep that signified the death of your mother. You fell to your knees as you've just accepted what reality has become, a reality without your mother.

"Y/N! What happened? Is she okay?" your stepdad Andy panicked as he rushed over to you, seeing your mother. "N-no, NO! NO!" Andy screamed as he hugged your body tightly, in grievance of your dead mother. Both of you sat on the floor, drowned in tears as you've both lost the dearest person in your lives.

The trip out of the hospital was one that wasn't that long, but for you and Andy? It was a million years. It took a host of angels to get you out of that hospital, several doctors needed to escort you out of the hospital room. That day, a part of you was never the same, you became an incomplete puzzle with a forever missing piece.

*FLASHFORWARD TO PRESENT*

You sit in your bed, still grieving your dear mothers death. A mountain of disposables piling up in the corner of the room, making the room reek of weed. A deep and scratchy exhale left your mouth as you continue to sit in your room, refusing to leave your domain. It seems like years since you've spoken to anyone,

Well, almost anyone

The only trustworthy person in your life? Your stepdad Andy. You two have always had a close relationship, you both understood each other on a level no one else (besides your mother) could. But little did each of you know, the deep feelings you both felt for each other. I mean, how could one resist Andy? His beautiful blue eyes that dilated each time he saw you, his broad figure and chiseled muscles, his structured face and sexy beard. You knew it was wrong, especially after your mothers death, but it was something out of your control.

"Y-Y/N! G-get your ass o-over h-here!" he yelled, slurring his words amid his recent alcohol addiction. You slumped off your bed and walked over to Andy's bedroom, the unpleasant aroma of alcohol filled the room as you shut the door; bottles upon bottles of beer stacked in his closet.

"Y/N, y-you better s-stop sm-smoking, i-it'll kill you. If I f-find one more goddamn c-cart in the t-trash, I-I'm whooping your ass. Understand?" he said, barely able to connect his words together. "You think y-you can talk? It smells like shit in here, I don't know how you keep all those muscles and that jawline when all you do is drink all the fucking time! Give it a fucking break already!" you yelled, right before a thick hand smacked your cheek, you held your face.

Andy grabbed your face yelling, "You speak t-to me like t-that again? I'll fucking k-kill you, understand?" squeezing your face. You nodded as tears formed and fell down your face. You ran out of Andy's room, into your room, slamming the door, staying there for what seemed like an eternity, but was only 2 days.

*FLASHFORWARD 2 DAYS LATER*

A light knock on the door awakened your seemingly endless slumber. You stood up, feeling sticky and extremely hungry, and dragged your body towards the door and opened it to a surprisingly healthy Andy, who didn't smell.

"Hey y/n, I know you probably want to talk to me but, I'm really concerned about you. You haven't left your room in ages and your mothers death (tears up) left its toll on both of us, but I know she wants us to find happiness in our lives. So please, would you come out? Maybe we could spend some time together?" he asked, caressing the cheek that he slapped the other day.

You gave him a blank expression, still feeling a little scared of Andy after what happened yesterday. "Fine". You finally walked out of your room, the sunshine blinding you as you sit down on the couch.

"Now, let's get you cleaned up. Honey, can you please take a shower?" Andy asked, his cute nickname for you leaving you a little bit surprised. You reluctantly entered the bathroom, it seems like an eternity since you last entered it. You undressed yourself and turned on the hot water, waiting for steam to accumulate before you entered. The hot water dampening your soft skin as you cleanse yourself for the first time since your mothers death. As you were washing your hair, you noticed the bathroom door slowly creaked open. The feeling of curiosity and anxiety filled you as you waited for someone to show up.

"Y/N? Can I come in?" Andy asked, as the door was still slightly ajar.

"Come in"

Andy walked in with a white tank top that perfectly illustrated his large biceps and broad shoulders, and, it got hard, and, it seemed that he realized this. He walked over to the shower and opened the door

"Hey! Get out! I need some privacy!" you yelled as you covered your private parts, slightly blushing. "Oh I'm sorry, lemme just close this" Andy said as he seductively slapped your ass, causing you to jolt and moan a little. "GET OUT!" you yelled, clearly aggravated, little did he know a little turned on as well. He left before you finished your shower, you turned off the water, dried yourself off and put on a tight little black tank top and some shorts.

You walked out and approached Andy in the living room, still a little surprised at what he did in the bathroom. "H-hey Andy, sorry I got mad at you there" you chuckled. "Oh it's all good Y/N, in the end, that was my bad. Come sit with me, the patriots are on right now" he said to you, bringing you over to the couch, sitting you next to him.

Oh God

You were feeling things you never felt before, things you shouldn't be feeling, he was your... stepdad. This was wrong, you couldn't help but feel butterflies race around your stomach, your body temperature rising as Andy got closer and more touchy with you.

"So Y/N, you like football?" he asked you, wrapping his muscular arm around your shoulder. You didn't answer him; you couldn't even think straight you were going crazy, sweat accumulating on your forehead.

"Y/N? Why so silent?"

"S-sorry I'm just-" you couldn't even finish your sentence before you found the six foot one man hands all over you, pinning you to the couch.

"H-hey! What're you doing!" you whined out as he got closer and closer to your face. "Oh Y/N, sweet innocent Y/N, I know you like me, in fact, you love me." he said, tightening his grip on you as he was practically an inch away from your face. "N-no Andy, this is wrong! You're my stepdad! What would mom think?" "Y/N, at a certain time, you have to move on, your mother was an amazing person, she would want us to be happy right?"

You shrugged your shoulders in response before Andy's lips crashed onto yours, your tongues twisting together, fighting for dominance; you lost. "Mm baby I've been waiting years for this, you don't understand how hard I'm gonna fuck you" he huffed as he continued kissing you, moving onto your neck. "Fuck, daddy" you moaned.

"Mm, daddy huh? I like that name, you only address me as that now, understand?" You whimpered in response as Andy started biting and sucking on your neck. Moans and whines leaving your mouth as your own stepfather was leaving hickeys on your baby soft skin.

When he was finished with you, you were a moaning and whining mess, breathing in and out at a rapid pace as Andy's eyes starting filling with something, insurmountable lust. "Strip for daddy" he commanded as he put you on your knees. You slowly removed your clothing unveiling your beautiful and slim frame.

Andy stared at your angelic figure, completely awestruck by the beauty that stand before him. He grabbed onto your shoulders and started sucking on your skin again. "Mm fuck baby! You taste as good as you look, you're gonna feel so good with me inside you!"

"Mm, fuck me daddy!" you moaned as the bearded man vigorously bit and licked your skin. He grabbed your body and placed your moaning figure over his lap; you knew exactly what part was next. He squeezed and fondled your cheeks, praising them before his hands gripped them firmly.

"Count"

"o-one" *SMACK* his hand swiftly cuffed your right cheek, causing you to wince in pain, and a wee bit of pleasure.

"two" *SMACK* he smacked your left cheek with even more force, causing you to scream as a tear leaked from your eye.

Said smack became 5 smacks, then 15, then 30. At 31, your ass cheeks were tinted red and tears stained your cheeks as your stepdad had just smacked the hell out of your ass.

"Oh baby, don't cry. Daddy is so proud of you, and he thinks it's time for your reward, baby. Come on, open up"

You aversely spread your legs open, leaning up on the couch you were sitting on. Right then and there, Andy slowly inserted his thick fingers into your tight and tiny hole. He used his spit as a lubricant to make the trip nice and smooth, causing moans and whines to constantly leave your mouth.

"Daddy! Ugh! Fuck daddy! That feels so good!" you whined as his fingers went in and out of your hole.

"Oh baby I love to hear you moan, it's like music to my ears. Now, this might hurt, just sit still ok sweetie?" he kindly said as he started finger fucking you with multiple fingers. Your moans started becoming screams as the feeling of pleasure, pain, and discomfort consumed your body.

"D-daddy! I c-can't take it anymore! I'm g-gonna cum!" you whined as you could feel your cock twitch uncontrollably, completely wet with pre-cum.

"Oh no you don't" he said cupping your cock in his other hand, making you even more horny. "Daddy can't have you cumming yet, I know you can do it, be a good boy for daddy". At this point, you were practically walking on strings, shear milliseconds away from shooting your load.

Andy finally released his fingers from you, sucking on them. "Delicious. Oh baby, you're such a determined little boy, thank you for not cumming, daddy appreciates it! Now, get on your knees baby, daddy needs to unload a little". You were still a little weak from Andy finger fucking you, but you got on your knees as Andy unleashed his meat. You've been picked down by many, but nothing surmounted Andy's cock. It looked to be 8 inches long, and insanely thick. You licked his bitter tip, causing him to groan out, before you started sucking his dick.

It didn't take much before you started gagging, your drool spilling from your mouth as Andys dick invaded every corner of your mouth. "T-take it easy b-baby. Oh fuck! Baby you look so good around my dick like this!" He started to thrust into your face, you almost fell back at his aggression. The sound of moans filled the room as Andy could feel himself getting close. Noticing this, you started moaning and whining on his dick, sending vibrations up his dick. "F-fuck baby" he moaned as he shot his thick and warm cum into your mouth, filling your mouth with his baby batter.

"Oh baby you did so well! Now, it's time for the grand finale! Come on baby, face down, ass up"

You stood crawled up on the couch and did as he asked, face down, ass up, your hole still lubricated after Andy's fingers violated it. "This is a very special memory Y/N, let's make the most of it. Alright?" he softly said before he violently thrusted his cock in your hole, going in and out aggressively.

"Daddy! Ugh! I love your cock so much daddy!" you whined as his meat was invading every bit of your insides. His thrusts getting sloppier and sloppier by the second as the pleasure he felt weakened his knees.

That's when it happened

His dick thrusted into your prostate causing you to go crazy, cock twitching uncontrollably as cum shot from your cock onto the couch, practically painting a section white. "B-baby, I-I'm close, y-you're doing so well" Andy groaned as he was once again close from summing, this time inside you.

"I love you daddy!" you screamed as your legs started to wobble. At those words, Andy lost it. His cock shooting ropes and ropes of cum into your velvety walls, painting them white. You both collapsed on the couch, completely drowned in pleasure after having sex the best sex of your lives. You crawled up onto Andy's muscles, cuddling up against him.

"I love you" you said before you lightly kissed his lips

"I love you too Y/N" he huffed before you both fell asleep in each others arms

THE END

Thanks for reading:)

[amyispxnk]

My Kind of Woman

Chapter 6: Don’t Leave Me in the Dark

Series Masterlist || Previous Chapter

Series summary - Your song captivates Joel the second he hears you that night in Jackson, but he struggles to work up the courage to confess his feelings. With some (very heavy) encouragement from Ellie and Tommy, you two get closer and closer until he finally thinks he’s ready.

Chapter summary - An overnight patrol leads to the resurfacing of some old wounds.

A/N: why did i almost cry writing this wow i don’t think i’ve ever written something quite so angsty ever. And i don’t even think it’s that angsty. whoops

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Word count: 3.2k

Warnings: fluff, pet names, angst, violence, death, mention of suicide attempt

DO NOT COPY THIS FIC IN ANY WAY PLS AND TY.

“Alright guys! Good work today, I’ll see you next week.” You grin, waving your students goodbye as the bell rings, signalling the end of the day.

It’s finally Thursday, which means that you and Joel will be going to the guitar store on your patrol, where you hope to find some stuff for Ellie’s birthday.

As you walk to the stables, you mull over the thoughts of some other gifts for the teenager, in case you don’t find anything there, before Joel greets you.

“Hey, sweetheart, you ready to go?” He smiles softly, biting back an even larger grin at the way your cheeks flush from his words. He’s found himself acting more confidently with you, even being able to tease you with this pet name nowadays since he discovered how flustered it could make you.

“Yeah-” your voice comes out slightly shaky, and you clear your throat. “Yeah. Let me just go get May ready.”

You feed your mare an apple before checking your bag and equipment, mounting your saddle and riding out of the gates with Joel.

The trail is much nicer at this time of year as spring slowly fades into summertime. The sun shines down on the pair of you and birds sing around you. It’s picturesque, and almost makes you forget about how the world is today, taking you back to a simpler time where you could walk outside your door without fear of being shot or torn to shreds by the end of the day.

“So anyway, we’re gonna head down here for a bit and then take a left. The store is in this little town we found a few months back.” Joel comments, breaking you from your thoughts.

“Alright.” You hum, and the two of you continue making your way there.

At around 7, you reach the little town, tying your horses up near the outskirts and grabbing your guns before heading deeper. Joel tells you that they weren’t even sure if the place was clear when they first came here, so it probably won’t be now. You should be ready for anything.

Hopefully it’s not as bad as that Route D patrol, you think to yourself as you crawl through rubble and make your way into the building.

That all-too-familiar feeling of unease settles into your bones as the darkness envelops you, dust floating in the air around you, made visible by your flashlights.

It’s pathetic, but you really don’t like the darkness. It’s scary enough when you can see what’s coming for you, but when you don’t know? When the unknown is all that surrounds you wherever you look?

You think that it’s worse.

Your eyes settle on Joel beside you. Even though his gas mask is on, you see that he’s looking at you, checking that you’re okay. His presence always makes you feel better, you’ve come to notice.

“Let’s do this.” You say, determination coursing through your veins, and he nods, leading the way.

As you walk down corridors, scanning rooms and closets, you find that the most remarkable thing in the building so far has been a decaying old body which has been swallowed by a cluster of cordyceps. Certainly not a promising sight, since it means that you’re bound to encounter some infected sooner or later, but you hope that the numbers aren’t strong.

Just over an hour later, you’re thankful to be right, having only encountered half a dozen runners, which you and Joel took down fairly easy.

“Hell yeah! Look, there’s some guitar stuff-” You start, forgetting yourself slightly in your excitement, causing a clicker from a stray closet to come barrelling through, charging straight for you. It jumps on top of you, causing you to scream, starting to fight back when Joel pulls his revolver out and shoots it thrice in the head. He tugs you out from beneath its now limp body.

He pants heavily, eyes wide as he looks at you.

“Are you bit?”

“No.”

He gives you a once-over before shaking his head, letting go of your wrist.

“You could’ve died. Fuck. Y’need to be more careful, can’t go around yellin’ like that.” He mutters, scoffing before walking off.

What the fuck? Why did he seem pissed off at you now?

“Jeez, sorry for almost fucking dying, Joel. I’ll be sure to not do it again.” You huff, going to the other side of the room to start searching for some stuff for Ellie’s guitar. You find a packet of strings and a pickboard with an intricate floral design on it that you think she’ll love. You’re pretty satisfied with the turnout, and pocket these items before heading back to Joel.

You’ve cooled off from the previous encounter, still a little annoyed from how he spoke to you, but not having the energy to fight over it. You’ve noticed the sun slowly starting to set, your detour to the store adding an extra few hours to your patrol and meaning you’ll likely have to spend the night here. You really don’t want to be arguing throughout it.

“Find anything?” You ask quietly, coming to his side. He hums in response, handing you a pick he found.

“Could probably carve somethin’ into that. Make it a little more unique for her, ‘f you want...” He says, trailing off again at the end.

“Oh, that’s a great idea! Could you?” You smile, excited to make the gift even better for Ellie. She’s special to you - why would you have gone to all of this trouble for her present, after all?

“Sure.” He nods, appearing uninterested in arguing and moving on from it by now as well.

He’s about to turn to leave when you speak up again.

“We’re probably gonna have to spend the night, Joel. Look outside.” You tell him, and sure enough, the sky has gone from a pale blue to a deep orange. You won’t make it back to Jackson in time, and you’d rather not be riding in the darkness.

“Yeah, reckon you’re right. Y’got your sleeping bag?” He nods, raising his eyebrows at you.

“Yes I’ve got my sleeping bag.” You scoff, rolling your eyes playfully. “I’m always very prepared, Joel. You know this.” You tease, kneeling down to untie your sleeping bag.

“Sure, darlin’. Then you’d know we should secure the room before setting up the camp. Since you’re always so prepared.” He smirks, and pink tints your cheeks once more.

“Yeah, I was just- you just said to get the bag out so I just.. Whatever. I’ll secure the room.” You mutter bashfully, making him laugh. That laugh was worth the embarrassment, you decide as you stand up to help barricade the doors and windows.

You finally sit down around a little cooker just after the sky goes black, an owl hooting in the distance, wind rustling the leaves outside. It’s oddly calming.

“Thanks for earlier, by the way. I’m sorry for shouting. Was stupid.” You offer quietly, unable to meet his eyes over the stove, instead zeroing in on a piece of ravioli in some 20-year old Chef Boyardee.

“No, I-” he sighs, “Shouldn’t’ve gotten all annoyed at you, either. I’m sorry. Y’were jus’ excited, sweetheart. Nothin’ wrong with that.”

“Yeah, I guess. Thank you, anyway. You totally saved my ass. And you brought me here, too. I haven’t even thanked you for that. If I didn’t have you, I think my gift for Ellie would’ve been so shit.” You chuckle softly, and his lips curl into a smirk.

“I know, I know, you’d be completely lost without me.” He teases, and you laugh a little harder, giggling and hiding your face from him.

Moments like these are why you love being with Joel so much. Laughing so hard that your entire body floods with warmth and your stomach hurts by the end of it. It’s a welcome feeling in these times.

Wait. You love being around Joel? Your brows furrow as you have a conversation with yourself in your mind. You 100% just used ‘love’ and ‘Joel’ in the same sentence. That’s a scary, dangerous path to be going down right now. Just keep it chill.

Joel doesn’t seem to realise your internal struggle, getting up and wiping his hands on his jeans before taking your can and putting them to the side.

“Alright, I think y’should get some shuteye now. I’ll keep first watch. Night, sweetheart.” He says softly, feeling an unfamiliar but comforting feeling blooming inside of him at the thought of spending a night with you. Even if it’s just for patrol, it has him thinking about the potential future of your relationship. Maybe it could become more.

“Goodnight, Joel.” You say quietly, getting in your sleeping bag and facing away from him. You go tense when he turns the stove off, the room plunging into darkness. He doesn’t know of your fears, you realise. In fact, you don’t know much of anything personal about eachother at all.

A few uncomfortable and anxiety-inducing minutes later, you finally relent, sighing and rolling over to face him.

“Joel?” You say quietly into the night, eyes searching for him as you adjust to the darkness.

“Yeah?”

“Can you- can you put the light on? I know it’s a waste of power but.. I just can’t really sleep in total darkness.”

He’s quiet for a moment, and you want to shrivel up and die. He probably thinks it’s a stupid, irrational fear. Being afraid of the dark in a world like this is pathetic, you think.

“Yeah, course. I didn’t know, sorry sweetheart. Y’gon be okay?” He soothes your mind, his low voice putting you at ease.

“Yeah.” You mumble, and he turns the light on before it goes quiet again.

You keep tossing and turning for a good five minutes. Then ten. Then fifteen. Fuck. Why are you so restless tonight? You guess that it’s because you haven’t slept on a patrol in a while, especially not in someone’s presence.. especially not in Joel’s presence.

You sigh frustratedly. Maybe you should just take watch instead.

“I can’t sleep. Let me take first watch instead. You rest.” You grunt, moving to get out of your sleeping bag.

“No, darlin’, you should sleep. Is somethin’ botherin’ you? Anythin’ I can do t’ help?” He offers, eyes soft and large as he gazes up at you from his seat on the floor. It makes your heart swell even more at his caring nature.

“It’s okay, Joel. Just sleep.” You say quietly, clearly not prepared to back down now. He sighs deeply.

“We can take watch together, yeah? I don’t… I just prefer bein’ awake out here.” He murmurs, and it’s only half of the truth. He actually just wants to make sure you’re safe. That, if you accidentally fall asleep or something, he’ll still be awake to protect you.

“Okay. If you’re sure.” You say, yawning softly as you take a seat on his right side. He turns back to face the window, and your eyes fall on that scar again, the one which lies at his temple.

“Hey, Joel?” You whisper. He doesn’t even blink. Did he not hear you?

“Joel? Joel.” You say, a little louder now. He finally turns.

“Are you deaf or something?” You tease, but he doesn’t smile back.

“‘M sorry. I- yeah, kinda.” He responds, a little gruff.

“Oh shit. Sorry.” You say. He was kinda old, you realised. Not that much older than you, but still.

“‘S okay. I uh.. It happened near the start of the outbreak. In a fight.” He mutters, unsure of why he even told you that.

Well, he does know.

It’s because he wanted to tell you the true reason, but that’d probably scare you off, or weird you out. He can’t get that personal with you after only a few months of talking. For some reason, your presence just comforts him like no other, and he feels like he’s known you for years, like he can tell you everything, but you also know everything already, anyway.

“Damn. How’d you make it through the outbreak half deaf?” You murmur, genuinely curious now. That must’ve been why he always takes the left side in almost everything you do on patrols. Clearing a house? He’ll start on the left. Riding along a trail? He’ll listen out for anything along the left side of the path. You had your own suspicions, but this proves it.

“Dunno.” He shakes his head, gaze growing cold as his mind goes elsewhere, eyes getting wet as he recalls all he felt after losing Sarah.

You notice this, and start to panic a little. Shit. You’d asked for too much. You’ve brought up something sensitive unknowingly, and he’ll resent you for it.

You can’t just sit here and let him cry though.

“Hey, it’s okay, Joel. You- you can talk to me. Y’know I’m always here for you.” You say softly, turning to face him a little better. He turns his head and meets your eyes. For some reason, seeing him upset makes you want to cry too, resulting in your own eyes getting a little misty.

He clears his throat before he speaks.

“Had a daughter.” He chokes out, surprised at how hoarse his voice sounds.

Your heart almost stops. Had. Ellie wasn’t his kid, but he used to have one.

You try and think of what to say. I’m so sorry, Joel. That’s terrible, Joel. It’s a basic response, and you feel like it wouldn’t help. For once, you find yourself unable to navigate the situation.

“Scar ain’t from a fight. ‘S from me. Few days after Outbreak Day, when she-” he cuts himself off as his voice breaks, eyes squeezing tightly together.

You don’t know what compels you to do it, but you wrap your arms around him. He doesn’t reciprocate for a moment and you panic again, wondering if that was a bit bold, especially in his emotional state. But then his arms come around you, and he lets you in. He bites back the ugly sob that wants to escape his chest, instead only allowing a few silent tears to fall. You sniffle as you feel them on your skin.

“It’s okay. I’m here.” You whisper, heart breaking as he cries quietly.

“Sorry. That.. was a bit much.” He mumbles, pulling back a little and clearing his throat after a moment, realising he’s supposed to be closed off and not let anyone in, not expose his emotions or feelings or thoughts, but you shake your head.

“Everyone has their demons, Joel. You shouldn’t be afraid to let yourself feel, especially around me.” You murmur. Maybe you should share your own past. You don’t want him to feel alone.

“You wanna know why I’m so afraid of the dark?” You begin, and he doesn’t protest, so you take a deep breath and continue.

“Lost my brother a few years back. Maybe a year before I got to Jackson. We were actually trying to find the place, travelling through the night, and we had to cut through this mall. There were infected roaming outside, and even though we knew that the mall could have raiders in it, we didn’t wanna take on a dozen clickers. So… we start wandering through this dark mall. No lights, no windows, and we only had one flashlight. He went in front and I was following, but- but I knocked something over. And then we heard voices in the distance. They said that they would check out the noise.” You pause to collect yourself, trying to prepare mentally as you recount what happened next. “They said that.. That if they saw anyone to just shoot them. All I remember was that it was so dark, before we saw the flashlight on a rifle. I barely had a chance to think before my brother grabbed my hand and ran blindly with me. We tried finding the exit but- just when we saw the light, he got shot. It was in his stomach and-” You cut yourself off with a quiet sob, trying to continue. “He just crumpled. The last thing he told me was- was to leave him. To keep going for him. I could hear the men coming, but I was still trying to pick him back up or- or something. Then I saw the man aim his gun at me and I panicked and I ran. Like a coward.” You can’t stop yourself from crying now, unable to say any more.

“Oh, baby…” He whispers, pulling you closer and letting you cry. You whimper at his touch. When was the last time you properly cried like this? You’ve been so used to putting on a mask that when you finally let go like this you don’t know what to do with yourself.

“I just- I feel so guilty. I don’t deserve to be happy and safe in Jackson without him. I should’ve died that night. I knocked over the fucking boxes, I-”

He shushes you gently, recognising what you actually mean, knowing the feeling all too well - and knowing you don’t deserve to feel like that.

“Don’t say that, sweetheart. He would’ve wanted you to live and be happy here… Don’t ever say that.” He says, quiet, but firm in his tone.

You sniffle, exhaling shakily. His words don’t totally convince you, but you know deep down that he’s right. He would’ve wanted you to be safe. He would’ve rested easier knowing that he was able to protect you in the end, that it was all worth something.

“I miss him, Joel.” You whimper.

“I know. I miss my girl so much it hurts. It never gets easier, does it?” He says, to which you nod, burrowing further into his side as you yawn softly. You cried yourself to exhaustion.

“Just sleep now, okay? I’ll be here. We’ll keep the lights on.”

You just nod, too tired to respond as your brain finally powers off, and you fall asleep.

He sighs, stroking your hair as he looks back to the slit in the window. He always knew. There was no way someone could truly be this happy on the outside, and really feel it on the inside. He wishes you did feel it on the inside, though. The pain of losing someone you love was one of the worst pains imaginable - he had the scars to prove it.

The next morning is quiet, but not awkward. You both exposed yourselves last night. Even though he said way less than you, you know that your levels of vulnerability vary greatly and you both showed eachother your rawest feelings and shared your darkest memories, deepening your relationship further.

“You ready to head back?” He says after you’ve packed everything up, and you nod.

The journey back starts off quiet, the two of you still deep in thought, before you finally pull yourself back together a little - enough to have some normal conversation.

“So, you got a party planned for Ellie’s birthday?” You ask, looking over at him. He’s on your left again, and you try not to think about why, now that you know the true reason.

“I dunno. Was gonna do somethin’ at the Bison, but I’m not sure yet.”

“Joel!” You gasp playfully. “Her birthday’s only a few weeks away! You gotta let me help you plan this party. I’ll make it into every 16 year-old’s dream.”

He gives you a teasing look, and you roll your eyes. “Trust me, Joel. I got better taste than you, that’s for sure.” You argue, and he relents.

“Fine. If she hates it, I’m blamin’ you.”

“Challenge accepted.” You snicker, hiding the bubbling excitement inside of you, knowing you’ll be spending even more time with Joel over the next few weeks.

Trying to ignore the fact that you cannot fucking wait.

Thank you sm for reading, I hope you enjoyed! Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated <3

Next Chapter

Tags- @mermaidgirl30 @tuquoquebrute @joelmillerisapunk @pascals-doll @casa-boiardi @konigslittleliebling @xxx-silhouette-xxx @hannah9921 @friskispunk @orcasoul @roryfuckedurmum @s0meoone

[secretly-from-the80s]

My outsiders head cannons because idk im bored (warning I’ll prolly misspell things!)

Darry:

1: When he was younger he used to play in the mud with Pony and soda and they would go back into the house and their mom would kick them out and would have to spray them down with a hose

2: (after the book) Darry and pony had gotten into a argument like brothers do and Darry Couldng handle it anymore and broke down in tears in front of both his brothers.

3: he has nightmares sometimes and they cause him to wake up in a panic and he would always have to check up on pony and soda to make sure they were okay

4: idk why some people like make him seem like a Facebook mom who likes minion memes and dad jokes. HES BARELY 20 YEARS OLD. He would probably say the most unfiltered ass shit in a group chat 😭

5: he gets those random urges to like kick or playfully hit pony or soda (I do that 😣)

6: ate rotten food once and work and got sick and his boss had to drive the boy home since he was so sick

7: will probably work himself till he makes himself sick like he Wont stop himself till someone stops him

8: hates seeming like a parent more then a older brother sometimes when the boys need reminders that Darry is still their brother Darry will start a game of tag and all the brothers will run around the house. (When they did that when their parents were alive they knocked down a special vase and they all got whooped)

9 : likes cats. He has a stray cat at work that he shares his lunch with he named it “kitty cat” sooooo creative righttt

10: doesn’t like ham (idk that just randomly appeared in my mind)

Extra: used to bite as a child and gags when those chunks of food in the sink hits his hands

Soda

1: stinks like car oil and pony will not allow him to get into the bed till he showers

2: likes grilled cheeses (me too bro)

3: he once caught Darry having a panic attack and didn’t really know what to do since he’s never really saw his brother like Cry like that so he was awkwardly comforting him😭

4: makes Radom sounds like with his mouth and it’s makes the others tweak

5: gets dates mixed up really easily

6: after Darry slapped pony, soda in a fit of like idk rage punched Darry square in the face.

7: WILL forget to clean under his fingernails.

8: Darry ate his food once and soda ignored him for the rest of the night. Anytime Darry Tried to talk to him soda would give him a snooty face and would cross his arms and say “mhmp”

9: cries when he watches dog movies (like all dogs go to heaven or a dogs purpose or a dogs way home)

10: has the most NASTIEST converse and refuses to clean them

Ponyboy

1: can only cook eggs he cannot cook anything else 😭

2: loves chocolate milk (I think that’s in the book)

3: tried Darry’s coffee once and almost threw up since it was so bitter

4: likes to race Darry since they were both in sports that involved a lot of running

5: stole one of Darry’s old sweatshirts and REFUSES to give it back. He loves that sweatshirt it’s like 2 sizes to big for him

6: (after the book) had a huge growth spurt after the book like it wasn’t even funny😭

7: since Darry and soda are such deep sleepers pony once drew like a “rocketship” and all those other things teenage boys draw he drew it on his brothers faces😣

8: chews his nails

9: has/had a crush on a soc girl and got teased by the gang relentlessly

10: (if it was like modern day idk) he would love headphones/airpods

Dallas

1: got chased by a dog and is forever traumatized from

2: would prolly stink like beer and sweat

3: bro can sleep through a tornado

4: bro prolly has the most greasiest hair

5: bro has a laugh that makes everyone else laugh

6: (before the Curtis parents died) dally finally made Darry sneak out with him and they ended up getting pulled up on by Mr Curtis and they both ended up getting in so much trouble 😭

7: made a your mom joke to the Curtis brothers and ended up getting jumped 😣

8: like those bland ass Cheerios

9: favorite fruit is cherries

10: bro will flip his underwear inside out and backwards since his nasty ass don’t wanna waste the time to wash the clothes

Steve

1: gets mad and when Darry doesn’t make chocolate cake 😣

2: bro will make himself at home at the Curtis house that couch practically as a ass imprint from him

3: likes strawberry shortcake (that’s his favorite dessert)

4: has so much beef with ponyboy they diss eachother anytime they get to

5: bro will HOG the bed if you share it with him

(Sorry his is kinda short 😣)

Two-bit

1: lost his Mickey Mouse shirt in the washer and thought he lost it forever

2: has a younger sister (protective brother)

3: knows how to braid hair

4: tried to recreate Darry’s infamous chocolate cake and he failed miserably 😭

5: he was really mad at Darry when pony ran away. When he found out he said straight in Darry’s face “good brother my ass.”

6: favorite Disney princess is belle (idk why I thought of that)

7: when he’s actually like serious the gang like tenses up a bit

8: knows all the drama from his younger sister he had beef with little kids he’s never even met

His lil sister: “yeah and Shelly and David are dating when she knew David was my crush and I told her too”

Two-bit: “I don’t like Shelly or David 🙄”

Johnny

1: (when the Curtis parents were alive) he once ran to the Curtis house after his father hit him super hard and Mrs Curtis took him in for the night giving him a hot meal and a warm shower and some clean clothes.

2: whenever he needs to crash somewhere he has a designated pallet that he sleeps on in the Curtis house

3: likes m&m popcorn

4: chews the side of his nails

5: can go days without eating

6: bro needs to wash that Jean jacket

(SORRY HIS IS SO SHORT)

[rainbowfish3iswriting]

Does Damien and Peter get in a couple of situations together where they’re turning Graysons hair grey? Like going to the zoo for a pet?🤣

Sorry if this reply is late, I didn’t get a notification for this. Whoops.

When they were younger they got into a lot of trouble. They’re both 6 years apart. When Damian is 9 when he’s introduced to 3-year-old Peter.

Damian had taken Peter out to parks and museums without telling any adult. I can definitely see them going to the zoo and try to steal an elephant.

They probably tried to take Killer Croc home. (Idk how they would do it but they will try) Almost putting both Dick and Bruce in a coma.

They have taken the Batmobile on joyrides. Also Jason’s bike.

Peter tried to make a bomb because Damian asked him to create one. He some how made purple fire??

They stole all of Steph’s purple garments and replaced them with orange ones.

They both like to capture venomous and poisonous animals and bugs. With no safety gear btw. They’ll grab a cobra by the neck with their bare hands.

They’ll climb skyscrapers without any safety equipment. If they fall they fall.

Damian took Peter out of the country without telling anyone and Dick thought his son and brother were kidnapped.

[verdemoth]

Woah hey hey. Yeah it’s me, Tala, it’s been a while, huh? Like legitimately a year whoops. Hey mutuals sorry about that, i’m totally still kicking and you guys are super cool and i hope we can still vibe 👉👈 there’s a lot of very awesome people i’ve missed interacting with

To cut a long story short: i had really bad art block for almost a full year and fell out of practice further, and that put me in a bad place generally because without my main creative outlet it’s hard for me to regulate and deal with other problems. And hard for me to be creative in other ways when i was still stuck on all the ideas i wanted to do but couldn’t. For the past 5-6 months it’s been better though! Not at the same output i used to have but i think i’ll just have to be content with that; at the very least, drawing is usually fun again :)! Speaking of other problems though, my health’s been a struggle, not in a scary life threatening way but VERY fatiguing. And i think that’s just something i have to be content with too. Took me this long to get around to updating my tumblr account in part because of this fatigue and in part because it had been so long i got anxious

But i want to get back to posting! i do have artwork i’ve done in this time that i’ll start uploading soon :] and being able to draw again means i can be more creative in general, and some of my ocs have seen more development 👀 i hope to talk about them more later!

[porkcutletbowl44]

Simon Riley/Reader and Keegan/Reader

Hi. I have come out of a almost 6 year writing hiatus and decided to start posting works again. (Yippie😅) I woke up in cold sweat one day about this particular story line and just started writing it down until I gathered the courage to share it... This is a snippet from the 2nd chapter I have on AO3 (I have no clue how to use AO3 in terms of writing OR Tumblr for that fact pls help 😭) but, I'd like to hear some thoughts about how it is, (yay or nay?) aaaannnnddd first ever post on Tumblr whoop! (Apologies for spelling and grammar I still haven't completely edited the chapters fully)

After a few weeks, the divorce was finalized. And those weeks quickly grew into just shy of two months. you didn't even notice, you didn't have the time to even keep up with your own body living in the present. Your daughter didn't deserve to see her mother in shambles like this. Didn't deserve to watch her parents divorce simply because of the lack of communication you hammered into her little head from a young age to express when she was frustrated her sippy cup lid wasn't screwed on all the way and spilled a sticky mess of apple juice all over her chest. Communication, that's an important ingredient. Remember. Communication cannot exist without comprehension. You can bring the horse to water but you cannot force it to drink. You thought you had it all, a loving husband, a beautiful child, a safe home, it was temporary. Ripped from your fingers like a purse stolen by a thief. You will only helplessly watch as your things are being taken from you. 

You will continue to claw at your chest and whimper like a wounded animal.

It does not get easier, even right now when it's time for Simon to take Fawn for the weekend again. You can bear the awkward tension, that silence that makes your throat close up and forces your voice to a weak frail squeak. You kept your attention somewhat busy with your work laptop, there are only four emails and you take the time to thoroughly read them, typing calmly to avoid confrontation. 

He stood in the kitchen quietly, watching your back. He had a strange lump forming in his throat, his expression hardening as he pushed down all of his emotions, trying not to focus on the guilt and hurt churning inside his chest.

You signed the papers, just like he asked you to.

Simon forced himself to speak, clearing his throat loudly, "Shouldn't you be packing Fawn's stuff?"

"Fawn insisted on packing herself," you gave a half-shrug, "I said why not? It's good for her to learn it and have the harmless joy."

He couldn't help but give a rough scoff at that. You would spoil her too easily. Simon took a few steps, setting his hands down on the kitchen counter, his gaze fixed on your form.

"She'll end up forgetting somethin'. I better go help 'er." He spoke casually, intending to go to check on Fawn and help her pack But something made him hesitate, his gaze snapping back on you. It only made his chest and lungs squeeze tighter as he looked at your closed-off demeanor. His eyes zeroed in on your fingers typing lazily, a strange suffocating feeling overcame him as he tried to figure out how he should address the lack of the wedding band on your finger.

Should he pretend like everything is fine? Would you want to talk?

There was an unnatural suffocating silence that felt like an elephant in the room, a strange tension between the two of you that only made him want to hold his breath. The air was so thick and tense- so unlike the normal energy in the kitchen that was once filled with the smell of your delicious cooking and the squealing laughter of Fawn whenever Simon would occasionally rough house with you while the both of you shared the foot space to cook. 

"...You took your ring off," Simon observed in a quiet, defeated tone.

what did he expect?

you stop your typing, your fingers ghosting over typing basic Python codes to your coworker, and you look down on instinct before clearing your throat. Your finger is empty. You will not admit that you took it off once you heard the news.

"Yeah, I did. It's next to the coffee maker if you want it back—oh, congratulations on your engagement." You hesitated before even saying those words. You never thought you would have to say to Simon. Your throat was dry, and your tongue burned at each syllable. 

His heart dropped the instant your words registered in his head, his expression darkening even more than before as a harsh scoff escaped him, his hands clenching tightly into fists as he tried to ignore the sharp pain in his chest.

"What…" His jaw hardened, and a look of disbelief crossed his features, "Who the hell told you that?"

"Johnny already told me," You replied, twisting on the stool to look at him, still in your work blouse and office pants. 

"Of course he did.." He muttered beneath his breath, shaking his head as he pinched the bridge of his nose in irritation. "Bloody Soap.."

Simon took a deep breath and turned to look at you, his expression cold and hard, his gaze dark and icy. The mention of his engagement only made his fingers clench on the counter, and his gaze darkened as he heard your cold, dry tone. His eyes shifted towards the band next to the coffee maker, his mouth twisting into a frown at the lone ring he bought you all those years ago. 

That ring had been on your finger for 7 years.

Now it lay lifeless on the counter.

How the tables have turned.

"...thanks." He muttered out quietly, before looking back down at the floor. 

"yeah well, I would have found out even if Johnny didn't tell me. I would have seen the ring on you either way." You crossed your arms loosely with a small frown. You also won't mention you saw his fiancée's post about it.

He has an unreadable expression on his face as his shoulders straightened. "It would've been a hell of a lot more polite if I was the one who told you." He muttered lowly, his jaw clenching as he tried to keep his emotions in check. But the sight of you without the ring on your finger was eating away at him, like acid seeping into his skin. The mother of his child, divorced.

"You wouldn't tell me, I think that's why Johnny mentioned it...Fawn don't forget your toothbrush!" You called out, hearing her near the kitchen before bolting back down the hallway into the bathroom. You silently thank the universe for that interference. 

A humorless scoff escaped him, shaking his head as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Johnny knew you, he knew that you were the type to get pissed off at secrets and such. So he told you, thinking it would be easier to swallow for you. 'It's not.; Simon muttered in his head, gritting his teeth tightly as he tried to hold back his emotions.

"for the best, right?" You mumbled under your breath, looking up at him.

He could feel the pain and hurt in your gaze as you looked up at him, making his heart clench painfully the longer he looked at you.

Of course it's not for the best.

He wanted more than anything to pull you into his arms, to kiss you, tell you how he regrets ever saying something so stupid, how he wanted to take everything back.

But he didn't.

He couldn't. So all he said was a cold: "You tell me."

You didn't reply, just humming quietly in acknowledgment before Fawn's happy self came into the kitchen practically bouncing with excitement to spend time with her dad. Simon watched quietly as Fawn barreled into the room with her bag in one hand, her excitement radiating.

He tried not to let his emotions show on his face, masking it with a neutral expression as he looked over at his daughter. It was impossible to tell her parents were going through a divorce. She was still young of course, so it wasn't that surprising.

Simon just couldn't help but envy her innocence.

A bitter thought in his head made him hate himself even more.

He couldn't help but try to hold that small smile that formed at his eyes as he saw her excitement, "You 'ave everythin' you need?" The question was mainly directed at you, since you were the one that knew what she needed.

You beckoned Fawn over, kneeling before her. You softly grabbed her shoulders with an assuring smile. 

"Hairbrush? Socks and shoes? Jacket? And toothbrush?"

He hovered in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed over his chest as he watched you check over Fawn, watching how gentle you were with her. Simon scoffed at this, shaking his head. "She's a mini version of you."

A pang of longing hit him, watching how you cared for her, his heart feeling heavy.

"Check, got all that," Fawn confirmed, nodding her head excitedly as her bright eyes lit up.

"Good, you did a good job packing all by yourself." You forced a smile Fawn would believe, smoothing her hair back. You were proud of her after all, doing big girl things all by herself. 

A wave of dread washed over him, he couldn't fucking stand this; that he was the reason. "Monster." something meanly cackled in the back of his head. He felt like a bastard for even having you sign those papers without fighting for it, watching everything he once had slip out of his fingers.

Watching how you forced a smile instead of truly showing it to your own fucking daughter.

God, he was a jackass.

"Remember your manners, be good, and you can call me for anything at all, okay? Anything you need, hun." You murmured, giving her little cheek a kiss.

He watched the two of you interact, his chest feeling heavy and tight. Fawn nodded her head quickly with a bright smile, giving you a big hug before waving a little.

"Bye, momma." She said cutely before rushing over to her father and grabbing his hand, waving her free one out.

His expression hardened, his gaze snapping on you as you looked away, keeping up the happy mom façade for the sake of Fawn.

He hated seeing you like this, forced to pretend like everything was okay when it was far from that. How was it fair for you to be forced to pretend to be happy? It didn't sit right with him, it just didn't feel fair. He held his eyes on you a moment longer before looking down to hold Fawn's hand in his. 

"C'mon now, let's get goin'." He murmured gruffly, trying to muster a small smile for his daughter.

The walk to the car was silent, Fawn skipping her way to the car, Simon walking beside with her little handheld in his, his expression unreadable and cold. He stopped by the backseat of the car, opening the door to let Fawn in as he looked to the passenger seat. Where you would sit. Where you will probably never sit again.

His mind warred with it, a scowl crossing his face. He wanted you in the passenger seat, just like you used to always sit in. He wanted the same routine every time he picked up Fawn from school.

But he couldn't have that.

Simon gritted his teeth, shoving those thoughts aside as he forced his expression back to a stoic one, watching as Fawn climbed into the backseat and buckled herself in. He slowly shut the door with a quiet click, looking to the front and climbed into the driver's seat. The car started, and Fawn waved happily behind the window as they drove off. Mentally, you cuss Simon out to drive safely for Fawn before turning back inside. 

[awarmbowlofhomemadesoup]

There’s some weird dissonance reading Leosagi fics first before watching Samurai Rabbit: The Usagi Chronicles. I mean it, I enjoyed the fics, truly. But some of them made Yuichi more like Miyamoto Usagi than himself (and I’m not saying it’s a bad thing). It’s just funny after finishing 2 seasons of SRTUC because:

While Miyamoto Usagi has a resting bitch face, Yuichi did NOT inherit it. Yuichi has a resting space face when he’s not getting excited about his ancestor or Yokai.

2. He wants to be like his ancestor so bad, but he’s just too wholesome.

3. A lot of people have already said this in a lot of posts, but dude is a disaster (affectionate):

Whooping and swinging his sword and yelling he doesn’t need a sensei after making a promise to his auntie that he would find one and treat the sword with respect.

Almost got run over by heavy traffic (and is not aware of it)

Pissed off every single one of his would-be friends who were ready to beat him up.

Was given a wide selection of mystical weapons, and ended up with a yoyo because he got distracted by it. 

AND went to jail. That’s just his first day in Neo Edo. 

He is not easily distracted, he's "momentarily focused" on other things ("oh look, a bird!")

Went into a self-induced drug trip after trying so hard to meditate

4. While Yuichi can be spacey and distractible, he’s already a skilled swordsman with good instincts and reflexes. What he lacked was experience and something to temper his one-track mind.

5. When the show said he’s “all ears, no brain,” they meant it. Guy keeps syrup packets in his pockets so that he’s always prepared. (for desserts, ig) 

6. “All ears, no brain,” was said within his hearing range and it just went through his head because he’s too excited about fighting yokai like his great-great-greatx grandpa.

7. Has the selfishness and self-centeredness of someone with ADHD (and I’m not saying that’s a bad thing). He can be so caught up in wanting to be a hero, he would sometimes not listen to his friends, or hog the mission for a chance to be remembered for a thousand years.  

8. He wants to be the main character so bad:

Jumped into conclusions with Gen and made a wanted person escape.

Attacks yokai on sight to live out his fantasy of being like Miyamoto Usagi

Tries to pilot a giant robot and did well for 1.5 seconds.

Risks his life more than once by making contact with a giant magic crystal that could’ve burned him alive with too much power.

He’s goddamn lucky his show is for a younger audience or he’d be traumatized along with Leo (and his bros) from rottmnt, Luz from TOH, and MK from Lego Monkie Kid. 

9. Likes one-liners because it’s like in his comics/manga of his greatx grandpa. (”Put down the pig, or I’ll put down the hurt -wait, I can do better than that.”)

10. But yeah, all of that and he’s still a polite and considerate kid who sincerely wants to help people and his friends and will do the right thing because it’s the right thing to do. 

Saves the three people who were going to beat him up.

Got delighted when the three people who were ready to beat him up were there to rescue him. (”Are we friends now? :D”)

Wants to hug them in the first hour of meeting them.

Somehow convinced one of the most terrifying yokai to be his sensei.

Would babble about yokai in the middle of fighting one.

Risks the city for an alien.

Like I know some people can’t stand its animation. It’s not the best, but it’s not bad either. Anyway, this is the Yuichi Usagi that I have known from the show and I’m glad I’ve met him. 

[hell-drabbles]

Mock-up Card 1

Basically it's just an L Card with the Embittered Companion and Lucifer working together because my brain is stuck on that for some reason? It's weird. Anyways, when you activate the Ultimate Skill of this card, you switch to either Lucifer or the Embittered Companion. A sort of, two-in-one card. Embittered Companion is all about dealing damage while Lucifer is all about healing. There's a boost to their ATK for a good while after switching. Don't ask about the numbers, I didn't think of them at aaaall.

Also I don't have it in me to write prose right now, so here be lines!!!

[First Encounter]

YOU: Hey. It's been how many years? You know, since I last took up a weapon to chase people away? It's pretty nostalgic, honestly. LUCIFER: …are you already forgetting what you promised us? YOU: I'm not gonna charge in head first, you two. Get off my ass.

[Level Up]

YOU: What I lack… LUCIFER: I'll make up.

[Evolve]

YOU: It would be nice, to have less lives lost. LUCIFER: But all we can do is continue on, until the very end.

[Ultimate Skill 1]

YOU: Go ahead and take a nap, Lucifer.

[Ultimate Skill 2]

LUCIFER: Sit. Rest. You're bleeding.

[Upon Death]

YOU: I'm still shit at keeping promises huh? LUCIFER: It's not your fault. Let's go.

[Victory 1]

YOU: Glad to see you've been focusing on the task at hand, Ra-on. Well, battle's over, so you can do whatever the hell you want.

[Victory 2]

LUCIFER: This is something to celebrate about, isn't it? …yes, you'll be invited to the party.

[Defeat]

LUCIFER: A mortal body such as their's does not deserve to have injuries like this. Keep quiet, they'll wake up. I know they will.

[Lobby Interaction 1]

YOU: It's kind of funny to me that, after all that, my normal body hasn't really changed one bit. Still the same strength, still the same weaknesses. LUCIFER: It doesn't make it any less remarkable to me. YOU: So you and Ra-on say. Well, I've been in this body longer than anyone, so I wouldn't know what to be impressed by. Everything about this body is just uninteresting to me. Doesn't make me any less happy that I'm back in it, though.

[Lobby Interaction 2]

YOU: Hmm? What are you staring at us for, Ra-on? We that good of a sight? …happy, huh? Yeah, I suppose Lucifer and I make each other pretty happy. Don't discount yourself though, buddy. Wouldn't be in the place that I am without your help.

[Lobby Interaction 3]

LUCIFER: Your hands. Let me see them. YOU: Huh? Alright, but why? LUCIFER: Ra-on told me you forgot about your blisters. YOU: Oh. Oh! No, yeah I did forget. Whoops. But hey, at least I'm wearing gloves this time around, so they're not that bad. None of them popped, so they should heal nicely.

[Lobby Interaction 4]

LUCIFER: If you wanted to destroy Heaven, would you? I wouldn't blame you if you answered 'yes.' YOU: …maybe a younger, more freshly wounded version of myself would've said yes, but as I am now, no. The fate of Heaven is not mine to control. I can only control the distance between me and that place. Besides, I'll hold onto hope that the angels will eventually weed out that sickening need to be superior.

[Lobby Interaction 5]

LUCIFER: Shh. They haven't rested well last night. Whatever it is you want to ask, save it for later. Hmm? Mm. Yes, they're… still haunted by everything. Not even in sleep can they be allowed to escape. A curse that not even my powers can relieve.

[Lobby Interaction 6]

YOU: You know, I haven't heard the name Solomon in a while. Did you finally put your foot while I was away, Ra-on?

[Lobby Interaction 7]

YOU: Another angel almost snatched me up today. Even in this human form they hate so much, they still want to whisk me up right back to that suffocating cradle. Thanks for the warning by the way. LUCIFER: While we were all once siblings connected through our love for God, I won't allow them to repeat that torture. If I must make my words absolute, then I will.

[Lobby Interaction 8]

LUCIFER: Have you adjusted yet? YOU: To what? LUCIFER: To your lack of extra limbs. To that body of yours. Is there any pain? Any noises that want to invade your eyes and ears? YOU: …There's nothing. Sometimes I'll feel like I'm missing something, but it's all blissfully silent.

[Lobby Interaction 9]

LUCIFER: Do you have no intention of staying here? YOU: I have no intention of ever forgetting you, Lucifer. But, I can't stay here. This is not my home. Our home, is right where Minhyeok is. Where our beloved earth is. Hell is nice, but I'm pretty sure Ra-on and I miss the comfort of our home's air.

[Lobby Interaction 10]

YOU: Lucifer? LUCIFER: Yes? YOU: If, one day, I decide to visit, would you welcome me? LUCIFER: …always. A small visit, or a promise to dedicate our existences to one another, I'll welcome it all the same.

[mouseycometz]

#6 for the selfship ask, and your Starscream choice.

#6 - "A sigh of relief."

Ask Game

Wipeout

Warnings: Suggestive

Word Count: 554

“And what does “surfing” entail?”

On the sand of a secluded beach, Starscream gazed at Juniper, his optic ridges furrowed in thought. Below him, the redhead held her “surfboard” at her side, the rays of light from the sun glistening across her wet, pale skin. 

“Oh, nothing much,” she said. “I just stand on this plank and feel the waves beneath my feet. Pretty much all there is to it.”

Starscream straightened his body, considering her explanation with developing curiosity. He smirked, finding her confidence to be almost contagious. Attractive, too. 

“Well then, my dear, I believe a demonstration is in order.”

He supposed that it wouldn’t hurt. After all, if Juniper desired to engage in some human tricks, then who was he to stop her?

She nodded, grinning, the curls of her short hair hovering over her shoulders. As she scampered towards the shoreline, he observed the way the pink ruffles of her swimsuit bounced off her chest and rear with great delight. 

Surfing was certainly not what Starscream expected when Juniper successfully coaxed him into visiting a secluded beach. Nonetheles, he grew to enjoy his time with her, even when he was forced to stare at her scar.

His wings gave a slight twitch, his bulky frame producing a slight shudder of remembrance.

It has been months since his latest arrival on Earth, months of him working through troubling feelings that he grappled with for years. He wanted her to like him. He wanted her children to like him. Well, his children, too. Hopefully, Bumblebee and his team of misfits managed to keep them occupied while they were gone.

“Oi, Starscream! Watch this!”

Juniper’s bell-like voice rang out from the ocean. She sat on her surfboard, her legs wrapped firmly around it. She waved at him before taking off, using her arms to propel herself forward towards the accelerating waves in the distance. Starscream refused to lie. He was a bit perturbed by the size and power of the waves, but he chose to settle his faith in her. 

From the moist sand, he watched her demonstration unfold with awe as she glided effortlessly across the glimmering, blue wave on her surfboard. She leaned her body as well as her limbs and hips, a smile spreading across her face as she whooped and cheered with joy. Quickly, the mech realized that she was correct. Juniper truly did feel the waves beneath her tiny pedes. Starscream felt a particular yearning in his spark chamber as he smiled, stepping forward to gain a better look at her.

But then, quite suddenly, while riding the same wave, she lost her balance and fell into the ocean, its watery maw swallowing her whole. 

A rush of panic coursed through Starscream’s internal mechanics as he rushed forward, crying out her name. Fortunately, within moments, she resurfaced with her head poking out from the water. She laughed, releasing a victorious sound as though she wanted the incident to happen.

“Wipeout! It happens.”

For a moment, Starscream blinked. And then, he vented out a sigh of relief.

“Oh, silly Mouse…”

Divider Credit: @/plum98

[barryogg]

The story goes like this

Earth is captured by a technocapital singularity as renaissance rationalitization and oceanic whoops sorry, wrong script

The story goes like this: during the Cold War, the USSR pumped vast amounts of resources to recruit sympathetic people as agents to attack and subvert the US government. Didn't hurt that FDR was largely sympathetic to Stalin. The early wave resulted in the Soviets getting important military plans, e.g. for the nuclear bomb.

This infiltration was an actual thing that happened. This is worth reiterating, because people often claim that McCarthy was fighting against nonexistent enemies. Because people in Hollywood were often captivated by the ideas of communism, as artistic types often do, in retaliation they vilified him forever in popular culture. (Although it's worth noting that he probably was an abrasive person, so that didn't help).

By the 70s, there were multiple active leftist terrorist organizations in the US. And we're not talking about some 21st century "riot around, semi-accidentally set fire to some buildings, is you kill a guy it makes national news" weaksauce. No, it was

The 1970s underground wasn’t small. It was hundreds of people becoming urban guerrillas. Bombing buildings: the Pentagon, the Capitol, courthouses, restaurants, corporations. Robbing banks. Assassinating police. People really thought that revolution was imminent, and thought violence would bring it about. [...] Most ’70s of the bombings were done as protest actions. Unlike today’s jihadists, ’70s underground didn’t try to max body count. And ’70s papers didn’t really give a shit. A Puerto Rican group bombed 2 theaters in the Bronx, injuring eleven, in 1970. NYT gave it 6 paragraphs.

(Source. I really should finally read that book.)

The endeavors at this scale can't be backed by revolutionary fervor alone. You need logistics, you need financing, you need friendly lawyers. Weather Underground (originally Weatherman, but that -man suffix was deemed sexist. Plus ça change) sprung out from a socialist student organization.

By the time the USSR fell, the radical organizations have metastasized into vast patronage networks. Many became academics, lawyers. In some cases it was almost dynastic - remember Chesa Boudin, a New York DA? His father was a Weatherman, in jail for felony murder. He was pardoned by Cuomo in 2021.

There were more pardons. Some made by Bill Clinton. Some made by Obama. Remember back 10 years ago, when Hamilton was the Apex of lib culture. Lin-Manual Miranda took care to reserve seats for FALN bombers.

The last link goes to David Hines' twitter. There's another drum he's been banging repeatedly: righties don't know how to organize and cargo-cult it. They see all the successful actions of the left and assume that they just happen, ignoring the fact that, again - those require logistics, money, and backing of a sympathetic press and lawyers. Instead of building a network and then utilizing it, they start from shouting their intent publicly then beclown themselves.

But what if that was the case because the left had a multi-decade headstart in networking, due to support from a now-dead rival empire? What if the patronage networks built over multiple generations were suddenly broken? What if they were growing unopposed by the neocons, who happily let them be as long as the Republicans got to bomb some brown people while in power during the 90s and 00s?

If this was true, then the current upheaval would mean that the current victory of the radical MAGA wing was a fluke, but that it also was a victory made in an insanely uphill battle. It would mean that if the existing patronages are broken, going forward you'd need much less activation energy to win. That hundreds of little things that tipped the scales in one direction would just... cease.

It's hard to be surprised that some people are getting downright giddy these days. Sure, the networks are embedded so deeply that it takes a lot of collateral damage to rip them, but can you imagine, for the first time in your life, an actual victory?

-------------------------------------

Well, that's a story. I mean, the in-between points are real: the Rosenbergs are real, all the bombings in the 70s are real, the pardons of those are real. But weaving the common thread through them, that's a story one may tell. Every political faction has a story that they like to tell about themselves. This one's may not even be the story that most MAGAs tell themselves, many are probably perfectly content with torching the commons to own the libs.

But I think that this is approximately the story many people would tell about the past two weeks. ESR, Travis Corcoran, the aforementioned Hradzka. Eigen.

And I think that it's important to understand the stories people tell about themselves and their beliefs, even if you don't believe them.

[aliciavance4228]

Greek Mythology: Funny Moments

I've wrote "The Iliad: Funny Moments". I've wrote "The Odyssey: Funny Moments". Now I'm going to write this post, so that the Holy Trinity would finally be complete.

Note: When it comes to basically any Greek Myth there's a very fine line between hilarious, weird and straight up disturbing. So please, do acknowledge the fact that everyone might have different opinions about this post..

1. It's hilarious that Acrisius tried to avoid the prophecy of being killed by his grandson Perseus by shipping him and his own daughter Danae away, only to end up dead due to a freak accident when Perseus accidentally hits him on the head with a discus while playing afuneral game. Said funeral was the result of an adventure caused by Perseus being shipped away.

2. One myth had Hephaestus take revenge on Hera for throwing him off Mount Olympus by crafting a golden throne that glued her to her seat when she sat down. He only relented when Dionysus got him too drunk to resist being taken back to Olympus.

3. One story details how Hera was so spectacularly angry at Zeus that she left Olympus. After failing to persuade her to return, Zeus asked for help and was told to make a wooden doll, dress it in a bridal veil, and tell everyone he was getting remarried to lure Hera out. It worked.

On that note, Zeus and Hera's wedding night is said to have lasted for 300 years. 300 years. Divine or not, they must have been really sore after that (or at least exhausted).

4. Hephaestus gets pissed off because his wife Aphrodite is cheating on him with Ares and makes a golden net which he hides by their bed. The next time they start getting it on, the net catches them and hauls them into the air and Hephaestus calls all the other gods to have a good look. The whole of Olympus stands around laughing, and Apollo asks Hermes, 'So, would you mind being chained up naked for everyone to see?' Hermes promptly replies that he wouldn't mind a bit, provided he got to sleep with Aphrodite.

5. An unintentional example, but if you look at some versions of Tiresias and Arachne's myths, Athena has really bad luck when it comes to helping people. A boy almost sees her naked and she tries to shield his innocent eyes? Whoops, she blinded him! A rival tries to kill herself and Athena tries to show her mercy by saving her? Whoops, now her rival's a spider!

6. Speaking of Tiresias, the alternate story of his blindness has a share of funny in it too. He saw a pair of snakes mating one day and separated them with his cane, causing him to be turned into a woman. In following years, adventures as, among others, a temple prostitute ensued, until, meeting the same pair of snakes again and this time leaving them alone, his original form was restored... only for him to happen upon Zeus and Hera in a heated debate about who gets more pleasure out of sex, men or women. They see Tiresias and are immediately like, "Hey, YOU spent time as both a man and a woman! Answer!" He does, which causes Hera to blind him. As even Zeus can't undo what another god did, he gifts him the talent of prophecy via an ability to speak to birds instead. Just in case you wonder, his answer was women.

Wheter his answer was honest or he said that fearing that he might face a worse punishment if his answer was "Men." is debatable.

7. Aphrodite, Hephaistos and Eros are making weapons, in particular Eros is making a javelin. Ares comes in with a strong spear and begins making fun of his son's creation. Eros says it's heavy and says he should try to pick it up. Ares does so, only to find he can't lift it up and his hand is stuck under it.

"Ergh, it's really heavy. Take it back."

"No, you can keep it."

8. The poet Sappho of Lesbos, who (may have) wrote poetry about her love for women and who gave the names to you know exactly what, was supposedly married to Kerkylas of Andros, a name that roughly translates to Dick Allcock from Big Man Island. (Turns out Mr. Biggus Dickus might have existed!) He may be fictional, and "of Kalamamos" may have been better because that means "of pen island", roughly

9. Aphrodite finds out some women of a city don't worship her, because they believe that they’re prettier than her. She gives them terrible B.O. so their husbands will divorce them. Yes, the same person who tried to kill Psyche for similar reasons decided to make some girls smell bad.

10. The start of Hermes' life. He was born in a cave where his mother hid from Hera, and after the birth, his mother Maia tucked him in really tight then went to sleep. Hermes, barely a few hours old, leaves, makes a lyre out of a tortoise, steals 50 cows from Apollo, then goes back to the cave before the sun is up. Apollo notices his cattle missing, and knowing he himself sang and walked right after birth, does not fall for Hermes' cutesy act. He instead drags Hermes in front of Zeus (who tries not to laugh when Hermes starts with the boldfaced lie of "I'll tell you what happened, I, barely a day old, was sleeping soundly when THIS OAF HERE walks in and accuses me of theft!") for judgment. The end of it is that Hermes can keep the cattle, can tell fortunes with dice but in no other way, and becomes the god of thieves among his outrageously long list of tasks.

11. One of Bellerophon's exploits is calling the sea to flood the plain of Xanthus after an attempt on his life. Trying to appease him, the women from the palace lift their dresses up and rush to him. Alas for them, poor Bellerophon ran away for the hills when he saw all those naked women hell-bent on having their way with him.

12. When Herakles has to spend one year as Queen Omphale's slave, she promptly decides to humiliate him by swapping their roles, meaning she gets to wear his lion-skin and wave his club while the mighty hero must wear dresses and weave as a good Ancient Greek housewife. It kinda backfired in a way: it didn't humiliate him but Herakles realized weaving was quite relaxing compared to all this monster-slaying...

13. One myth had Dionysus, god of wine and madness, visit the Underworld to resurrect Ariadne and his mother Semele. When Hades asks for Dionysus to leave his "best beloved" behind as the price, Dionysus leaves his finest wine and/or makes a grapevine grow, and Hades deems it adequate payment.

14. During Heracles' Tenth Labour, he was in a desert and became so frustrated at the heat that he shot an arrow at Helios, who was busy driving the Sun. Helios was impressed at his audacity and gave him a magic cup to cross safely.

15. One day when Ares and Aphrodite were having sex, Ares had his companion/lover Alectryon guard the door in case Helios wandered by, as he'd tell Hephaestus of their indiscretion if found out. Alectryon fell asleep on guard duty and Helios caught them in the act, so as punishment Ares turned him into a rooster, which heralds the sun's arrival by crowing.

16. One version of Zeus's backstory had him raised by a nymph named Amalthea (the other version says he was raised by a goat with the same name, which is funny in of itself). To hide him from Cronus, who ruled the sea, sky, and earth, he was either dangled on a rope from a tree to be in none of those domains, or hid in a cave while a bunch of soldiers made loud noises to cover his cries.

17. The Orphic Mysteries version of Persephone's abduction describes that when Hades opened the earth to steal Persephone, a bunch of pigs fell in with her, much to the consternation of the swineherd Euboleus. Later, to cheer up a mournful Demeter, an old lady named Baubo showed her own genitalia, making the goddess laugh and getting her to eat.

18. The variable fates of Cancer, a large crab who Hera summoned to hamper Heracles while he is fighting the Lernaean Hydra. Heracles either easily crushed it underfoot and Hera memorialized it as a constellation, or it's a constellation now because Heracles kicked it off into the stars.

19. Persephone's daughter Melinoe was either conceived or born at the River Cocytus, where Hermes happened to be stationed as psychopomp. One can only hope he got a raise after that.

20. Poseidon invented the first horse in an attempt to woo Demeter, only to be so distracted by the horse he forgot about Demeter completely.

Credits: TV Tropes

[tracybirds]

Where Parallel Lines Meet (8/?)

If we could all ignore the fact that this took me 1.5 years to update, that would be great, thanks

It's.... been a time for me, but I'm so glad I've finally been able to have the brain space and the energy to finish this chapter <3 I hope you enjoy, and once again thank you heaps to @gumnut-logic for cheering me on!

Title is adapted from a line in Sarah Howes’ poem ‘Relativity’ (scroll to the bottom of the article)

A fight between John and Alan is followed by an interstellar storm with unexpected consequences.

[Part 1] | [Part 2] | [Part 3] | [Part 4] | [Part 5] | [Part 6] | [Part 7] | [Part 8]

---

“Hey, Alan, dinner time!”

Gordon’s voice echoed in his headphones, and Alan pulled them off with a grin as he paused his game.

It had been a week and he still felt the thrill of knowing his family would all be there, just like they were before global chaos had squeezed them out of their lives on the island.

Gordon was pulling a face at Kayo as she laughed, happily grounded along with the rest of them, as Alan sidled into his seat. Scott held his fork halfway to his mouth, busy scrawling notes on a tablet as Grandma fussed at him to put his work away.

Scott absently tried to wave her off, only for his food to fly off his fork and land squarely in Grandma Tracy’s lap.

She said nothing, only stared at Scott with raised eyebrows as he put the tablet away with burning cheeks.

Alan grabbed a plate from Virgil, who didn’t pause in his conversation with Brains, pointedly ignoring their elder brother as Gordon and Kayo piled in on him.

It was a family meal, almost exactly as he had longed for, right down to the empty seat next to him that John took on birthdays and holidays.

It wasn’t anyone’s birthday now, but the empty seat stung all the same.

“Still no John?” he asked quietly, the now-familiar guilt thrashing inside him again.

Brains’ smile dropped for a moment and he shook his head.

“I’ll take him something later,” he said.

“Be patient, dear,” said Grandma. “He just needs some space.”

Alan grimaced.

Space was all his brother ever wanted. Alan knew what it meant for John to need space, and it had never meant shutting him out before.

Not that Alan could blame him, he thought as he poked his potatoes glumly. He’d tried to imagine how it would feel to have everyone openly celebrating your departure. More than that, it had been his family, his own brothers.

The thought made Alan break out in a cold sweat. And while Scott, Virgil and Gordon might be forgiven, having spent so little time with John over the past few months, he himself was a different matter.

He’d whooped.

“Alan?” said Virgil, and Alan raised his head to find his brother watching him with a worried look in his eye. “It’s not your fault.”

His stomach dropped away and the smell of food caught in Alan’s throat as he held back a sudden gag.

He stood, his chair scraping on the floor.

“I have to go,” he mumbled, and he stumbled out of the suddenly silent room, knowing that he’d just ensured he’d be the starring feature in the conversation the second he was out of earshot.

It wasn’t right, this mockery of a dinner that was near identical to the meals he’d had a thousand times on the island. Not when John was here.

His communicator beeped and Alan pulled up the call automatically.

“You need to find John,” informed EOS. “He has revoked my access to his biometrics.”

Alan let out a hollow laugh. “So he doesn’t want to spend time with you either?”

“He is being irrational.”

“He’s upset.”

“He’s been upset for months.” Alan could almost hear the stamp in her voice. “I merely pointed out that it was inefficient to relearn everything when he could accept the cure and regain it in an instant.”

Alan winced.

“Yeah, EOS, that probably didn’t help.”

“Why not?” she demanded. “He keeps talking about how he wants to do more, and how he has to get the simulators right to prove he’s just as good, but he could if only he’d listen to me! He said we were partners – why won’t he let me help him?”

She paused and her lights dimmed. “Does he just not trust me anymore? Most people don’t, you know.”

“It’s nothing to do with you,” he said. “He just needs to prove it to himself, I think.”

“He has nothing to prove.” Her ring of lights flashed orange, fierce and protective as ever. “He’s already done it. It would be easy; he could be himself again instead of this… child. Why can’t he see that?”

“He is that kid, EOS. Besides, when has John ever taken the easy way out? What if he’d done that with you?”

EOS froze, her lights falling until there was only one remaining, blinking soft and red beneath her camera. Alan found himself once again wishing he could take back what he’d said. They rarely spoke of EOS’s beginnings with the family.

“I am aware of what he did for me,” she said in a small voice.

Alan swallowed tightly. “I know. It’s just that, what he did for you he now has to do for himself. And it’s really, really hard.”

“It doesn’t have to be.”

“Yeah, it does,” said Alan. “But you and me can help him with it, right?”

“Not if he keeps hiding.”

“Well, then we’ll find him. Biometrics aren’t the only way to hunt someone down.”

***

It took the two of them nearly an hour to make any headway. John was smart, he knew how to cover his tracks, knew how not to be found.

EOS even swore when she realised the infrared tracking system had been rerouted to obscure any heat signatures, and Alan stifled a laugh thinking of John swearing in the exact same way on Thunderbird Five.

When they finally unravelled the mess of code John had created to hide himself away, Alan sat back in relief at knowing his brother was still here.

John was in the simulators.

Of course he was, thought Alan with a sigh. Two days locked in a room that wasn’t his, ignoring all attempts at conversation before making his escape. He’d hardly left the training facility since.

Alan had overheard Scott and Virgil arguing over the best way to handle the situation, usually after Scott had tried to ambush John for the umpteenth time. He’d been dragged away time and time again, having attempted everything from a ‘reasonable discussion’ to a full blown attempt to batter down a door.

Virgil defaulted to their grandma’s advice, as he so often did, insisting on giving John his space.

“Remember how he was after Dad – after Mom?”

Alan didn’t, but Virgil’s words had chilled him to the core, especially when he saw how Scott wilted in turn.

His brothers, his grandma, Kayo and Brains, they all wanted to sit back and wait for their John to come back to them.

But Alan knew his brother, this brother.

And he was done with waiting.

“Coming, EOS?”

She shook her array. “It’s enough to know where he is,” she said softly. “Now I can watch him, until he is ready to speak with me again.”

Alan nodded, then reached out and tugged open the door, stepping inside without another word.

He could tell when John sensed his presence by the way the ground fell beneath his feet, the momentary distraction enough to turn the flight into a death spiral.

John swore, with a ghost of EOS in his voice, glancing at him irritably before remembering he was meant to be ignoring Alan.

Alan sat down and picked up a headset as he felt for the familiar curve of the joystick in his hand.

“I don’t need your help.”

“It’s not help. It’s teamwork.”

“And I don’t want to talk to you.”

Alan shrugged.

“Fine. You going to fly or what?.”

It was his turn to ignore his brother as John glowered at him.

The sequence began. John’s hands moved instinctively to each position, his eyes narrowed slightly as he read the signs of instability ahead. Alan mimicked him as he made each minute adjustment, holding back a smile as John flipped the craft into a daredevil spin.

He never could resist showing off for his youngest brother.

“John, watch your intakes,” Alan murmured, his eyes flitting down to the dials.

He made no response.

Alan risked a glance at him, startled by the blind focus evident in John’s steely gaze.

“John, the intakes,” he said sharply, reaching across the sim to pull the nose up and allow more airflow.

A millisecond too late, as John’s own hand came crashing down on his own and fumbled.

It was all it took.

The sea water beneath them rushed upwards as the aircraft dropped, the swoop in Alan’s stomach as real as in any emergency, before the screens went dark and the holos surrounding them faded away.

John glared at him.

“Thanks a lot,” he spat. “I thought you were here to fly, not cause a crash.”

Alan rolled his eyes. “If one sentence is all it takes to trash your concentration, you’re not much of a pilot,” he retorted. “I told you, this takes teamwork. You’re wasting your time practising like this if you’re going to refuse to work with us at the other end.”

“They don’t want me to work with them anyway,” spat John. “Neither did you, last I checked.”

“I’m sorry it happened like that,” said Alan. “I won’t make excuses, there’s nothing to say. Just… John, I am sorry. And I miss hanging out with you.”

John didn’t look at him. Alan waited, biting his tongue in order to refrain from filling the uncomfortable silence. He held his breath, counting in threes, then sixes, then eights to fill in the passing seconds.

“You don’t know what it’s like,” John mumbled. “I woke up in this nightmare, home’s gone, Dad’s dead, and my own family doesn’t want me. They want some other guy, who looks like me and acts like me, but he’s not me.”

John shook his head. “He’s so far beyond anything I can ever do.”

He looked up at Alan, the hurt swimming in his eyes. “I just want to go home.”

Alan swallowed, a tight lump leaving his mouth dry.

“I can’t get you home,” he whispered. “But John, I want you. I love you. You’re my big brother, you can do anything.”

John blinked rapidly, lips trembling.

“I’m not your big brother anymore, Alan.”

He collapsed forward, and Alan instinctively reached out, refusing in this moment to pull away, no matter what his brothers might do in his place.

“We’re on the same team,” said Alan, his arms tight around John. “Don’t forget that. We are on your side. No matter what happens.”

[ronearoundblindly]

I’m feeling angsty 😈

For F.R.I Steve can I get

6. How do they make up/apologize after an argument?

18. How do they care for each other when one of them is wounded/sick

And 40. Do they have any regrets in their relationship

Question are from this ask game and for the Fools Rush In series with Steve Rogers x lab tech!Reader.

Angst? You want angst, you say? I shall endeavor to deliver...

*This series deals with mature and/or sexual themes not suitable for all-ages, and these drabble-answers are no exception! Also, sorry this took forever.

6

Well, there was that time when you called Steve a 'himbo,' or when Steve was repelled by the smell of a lab accident, or when you finally snap at too many classified secrets stacked between you and Steve. You have arguments, but not all of them are knock-down drag-outs.

It's important that you two do talk in order to come to an understanding of what is truly wrong or upsetting because, as we all know, sometimes neither of you starts off by saying exactly that.

Time together alone is critical. You two are not public in almost any sense of the word, so you are skilled is setting whatever feelings there are aside until you can openly speak. Being alone sometimes still means being physically separate. Touching can be distracting and avoids the crux of the issue (usually, except the first like half a year you dated, whoops), so sorting through your feelings and putting them into words may take a while but ends up best.

There have been arguments that even take alone-alone time, where you two have some space before coming together again. It's rare, but when frustrations run really high, Steve is not a fan of that energy bleeding into physical touch or everyday tasks. He hates associating any negativity with you. (You're human. He knows that. So is he. Just...no more than absolutely necessary.)

After all that--and only after all that is worked out--Steve and you are very tender to each other. You ease back into each other. Proximity is intimacy. Steve favorite small gesture is to put his arm over you while you two read on the couch. Yours is to tuck him to your chest as you fall asleep.

It's devastating to you that Steve censors his own future.

We all like to imagine the good in our lives lasting forever, and Steve does that, too. He simply...doesn't imagine ever getting any more of you than he does now. He doesn't think to expect that part of you two together ever evolves because that would be somehow demanding...anything. He feels ungrateful for how far you've come, and that is so much more than he ever hoped to have.

Thus, he censors what he could want and expect from you. Happy homecomings, enthusiastic reunions, intense and escalating sexual relations (yes, I know that sounds clinical, but that's how his brain thinks of these things) are, each time, welcome events. He refuses to explore his desires. Steve guilts himself into being grateful and that's it.

I mention this in conjunction with arguments and making up because it's not something you can be angry at other than it's a shame he cannot incorporate his physical satisfaction with general life.

(That gets explored in 'Not A Perfect Soldier But A Good Man,' a sex pollen exposure that breaks down Steve's defenses around that.)

18

Ack, ok, wounds are...yikes. Steve fusses an unbelievable amount, even if only internally. He will plan out like six levels of 'how much to help' as you recover from something. If he is the one who got hurt (because he doesn't get sick, nope, never), then just ignore it; he'll be fine in no time. The serum is the serum is the serum. He has no business needing to be taken care of.

Bullocks.

Obviously, Steve is completely full of shit on this subject.

Once you get past his guarded dismissal, he needs tender, loving care. Steve needs reminding that not only is he still human but that being human is enough, even if he heals quickly.

In all honestly, his worst wounds are psychological. Those take patience and encouragement to speak openly.

Though unrealistic about his own health needs, Steve is (usually) thorough in his focus on your healing. At first, in the very early days, he had to be subtle, like when you hurt your hand...twice, and he's been fine accessing your mental health needs since the beginning. Seriously that's...pretty much the whole setup to this series...

There are times--adjacent to the heat of battle, let's say--when Steve does default to trusting your own strength while he continues to handle something urgent. You're an adult; he doesn't baby you. He's just gentle and as doting as possible when you two have time to be alone.

There are ongoing snippy-convos, not arguments, about taking medications for various things. He isn't fond of you dismissing your own pain--ex: you have a headache but won't take a pill--but respects your choice to treat your body how you wish. (Healthy, though, because ((and he will use this language)) he won't fucking stand for disordered eating to control your appearance. Media can fuck off in this regard.)

40

No deep-seated regrets, no. There's little things, things you both wish you'd gotten over faster or learned earlier, but all-in-all, everything that happens to you and in your relationship happens for a reason and exactly when it's supposed to happen. Lord knows, the excitement and the sorrow of the life of an Avenger leaves very little desire to spice up your world much more.

Thank you for asking!

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