#but I still feel really depressed and shitty and I just want good distractions with these people I care most about

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[covetyou]

ghosted

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings: sex toys (satisfyer "glowing ghost"), unprotected P in V, creampie, oral (f receiving), reader loves floor time (so does Joel), angst (but we fix it), some anxiety/depression adjacent things. word count: 5751 summary: As spring moves into summer, the only thing you're wishing for is to be so far from the events of Easter, and Valentine's and Christmas before it, that you could forget and move on. But, by the time the end of May is on the horizon, the time between still isn't enough - You haven't forgotten, and you haven't moved on.

A/N: thank you to everyone still sticking with this sporadic-installment-series-that-was-never-meant-to-be-a-series. our next visit to these two will be 4th July in stars and stripes, but until then, enjoy 💛

(and yes I know I am technically later than planned with this for non Americas folk - I couldn't get the ending to my liking until suddenly I could, and now its gone midnight. whoops!)

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If it was true that time flies when you're having fun, it was safe to say the opposite was true too.

You weren't having fun, and time was well and truly crawling by at a snails pace.

That wasn't for lack of trying. In recent weeks you'd spent more time out of the house than you ever had - lunch with friends, drinks with colleagues, solo trips to bookstores and farmers markets. There was barely a moment of time you hadn't filled with something.

It was probably a shitty coping mechanism, all things considered, but it was the best you had. You couldn't quite bring yourself to confide in anyone your secret shame of letting a stranger into your house and touch you like he belonged there. The even bigger shame of living in a place for so very long and not knowing how the door worked, not knowing the stranger was your neighbor, being so very consumed in your own life - woe is you - that you didn't bother paying attention to the lives of the people around you. So, you kept on willing the passage of time, and filling every moment you could with distractions.

It wasn't that you were usually one for wishing time away. A slow, warm spring before the blazing heat of summer consumed everything would usually be a good thing - even better now that you'd lived and experienced your first Texas summer and were soon to have your second.

What you were really wishing for was to be so far from the events of Easter, and Valentine's and Christmas before it, that you could forget and move on.

As it was, by the time the end of May was on the horizon, the time between still wasn't enough. Almost two months to the day, and it still ached and burned in you just as much as it always had, if not more. The embarrassment and shame of not knowing how to work a fucking lock was one thing, the fear of the danger you'd put yourself in was another. Then there was the sadness, the loss, the unexpected emptiness at losing something you weren't even sure you had to begin with. And then, in more recent weeks, was the longing.

And you didn't want to feel any of it.

When Memorial Day Weekend eventually rolls around, the blossoming heat of summer keeping you indoors, you lie there on your living room floor, a fan blowing not quite cool enough air across your sweaty body until a knock at the door disturbs the patterns your eyes were tracing on the ceiling.

The dimness in your vision doesn't go away, even as you blink away the dust and try to get your eyes to adjust. The sun had set, apparently. It wasn't completely dark just yet, but dark enough to cast the lower level of your home in shadow, and you hadn't even noticed. You technically had plans today - plans that had now gone to shit, much like everything else.

Hauling yourself from the ground, you unlock your door, no thought or care of who could be on the other side of it, because one thing was certain - it wouldn't be Joel. You'd lost hope of that weeks ago. Each time you opened it with a fools hope in your mind, you were instead handed a delivery and told to have a good day as you stared out into the street, disappointed that it was only a clitty-blaster-3000, or a new blender, and not Joel.

You mindlessly pull open the door, expecting to be handed a package you hadn't ordered, or to even see a friendly face coming to pull you out for plans you agreed to but didn't really want to do.

But there he is. Two months later - but not too late, you don't think - and entirely out of the blue. Nervous hands are thrust into his pockets with his thumbs twitching on the outside of his jeans, standing there like he didn't belong here at all, when everything in your body was screaming he's home.

This was far from the first time you'd seen him since March. The first time was barely three days after you pushed him away. April Fools' Day, of all days. Fitting, you thought, given how much of a fucking fool you felt whenever you remembered everything you'd done, and said, and felt. It turns out he was the owner of the truck you'd seen parked in a drive a little way down the street, father to the little girl you'd seen bounding out of that house so many times before. Neither thing made the hurt in your chest any less, and you'd driven past with a lump in your throat and tears in your eyes.

The same happens now, but you fight them back so you can see more clearly as his mouth twitches into a small smile, making you freeze on the spot. Your mind was already blank, but that freezes too, and you stare at him dumbstruck for a moment so long you're certain a flicker of concern dances across his eyes.

And you could close the door in his face, push him out and away just like you did on that day over two months ago, but you don't. As you come back around, finally letting your brain reconnect with the rest of your body, the only thing you can feel is relief and total utter joy at getting to see him up close again.

There's still shame too. That's been simmering low and mellow in you for so long now that it's fused with your bones - you're not sure you'll ever shake it - but it's the least important thing right now as you stand and look at him, more awkward and uncertain than you've ever seen him.

"Hi."

You're surprised it's you who speaks first, given how dry your mouth is all of a sudden, seeing him up close again and looking as good as, if not better, than he ever has.

"Hey," he says, before clearing his throat. "S'good to see you."

It's a voice you didn't want to forget, but apparently damn near almost had, given the way your body reacts to it. Deep and rumbling, with the slow southern drawl trickling down your spine like honey and settling between your thighs - though in all honesty that might just be sweat. It really is hot in here, worse now that you're standing, and the fan is doing absolutely nothing to help. You look a mess too - your hair, your clothes, your life - but he doesn't seem to mind, and you're grateful, because right now this is as good as you've got.

"Wanted to see how you were doin'. Figured we should talk," he says with another soft smile.

Stepping aside, you give him a small nod as you silently invite him into your home for the first time. Which should be funny, given the unknown number of times he's been through this door, but you're not ready to laugh about any of it just yet.

When the door closes behind him, it's soft and gentle, barely audible over the fan blasting warm air at you, and you wonder if it's always like that. If he's always quiet as a mouse, and you always too oblivious to notice - between the two of you, you didn't stand a hope in hell in figuring it all out until it was too late and blew up in your face. Now, here you are, egg on your face, the heat in the room not helping the heat in your cheeks, trying desperately not to send him away when you've just invited him in.

It would be easier if it all still felt like a dream, but it didn't. That had changed.

Joel had never been much of a normal man in your mind. He was more of a fantasy come to life. A fantasy that was slowly building into something more and more real with each encounter. Even now, stood in normal shoes, wearing a normal t-shirt, and even more normal jeans - just Some Guy by anybodies standard - he looks as beautiful and fantastic as ever.

"Wanted to talk to you sooner. Wanted to leave it up to you given - y'know. Everythin'. Didn't want you to think I was just bargin' in all the time when it was convenient for me," he says, this very normal man already making you feel both silly and elated that he was waiting for you as much as you were waiting for him. Obviously you could have gone to him first. You just couldn't do it. You almost had so many times, but the twist of your key in the door would twist something in the pit of your stomach too, and you'd stop before you even made it out the house.

You knew why. It was always the same thing. You didn't want to talk - not ever. You just wanted things to be okay, or not, and go on with your life. It was one of those childish things you had your mom to thank for - she wasn't great at talking about the important thing either.

The difference now was Joel. You wanted to talk to him, you wanted to work out everything with him rather than alone in your head. But prior to the door incident, that wasn't what this was and after - well, fuck - after, it seemed that it could have been like that all along but you were too damn late to do anything about it.

"Know you were angry with me - maybe still are - and I -"

"I wasn't angry with you," you blurt out, already aware of the lie the moment it leaves your lips. Joel is too, and he raises an eyebrow at you. "Okay. Yes. It pissed me off - you pissed me off. Happy?"

"No. Never wanted to piss you off, darlin'," he murmurs in return, and you can see that he means it by the way all of him softens, drooping in defeat at your admission.

"I... You embarrassed me, Joel. I feel embarrassed, okay? I feel like a stupid idiot, and I -"

You can already feel it all coming back. The swirling in your head, and the heat creeping up your chest and down your arms, not helped by this sweltering fucking house. It's like fainting, but instead of blacking out, a white hot rage is ready to ignite in you. And of everything, it's the thing you most never want to feel again. You'd take all the sadness, loss, emptiness, and longing of the last two months a million times over if it means you never have to feel this again.

" - and it makes me angry. And I hate feeling like that, like this, and I just couldn't come talk to you because I feel so stupid."

"Woah, darlin', c'mon now, we both know you ain't stupid."

"I don't know how to work a fucking door, Joel. Do you know how long people have had doors?"

Taking a deep breath, you close your eyes before starting up again, hoping Joel will take the lead and talk for you first, but he doesn't.

"And I thought we were on the same page. That we were both doing the same silly thing, and it was okay that it was silly and fun, because we were both in on the joke. And... I liked seeing you. I liked it when you were here and it just - it just feels like it was a lie, and what I got out of it isn't what you got out of it. And that's okay, but it still feels stupid. I feel like an idiot, and an asshole, and knowing that you knew so much more about me than I knew about you, I just-"

"Do you want to?" he asks. "Do you wanna get to know me? Just gotta say, and it's done. I want you to know about me - I never meant to hide anythin' from you like that. And I don't want you to be mad, and I don't want you to feel embarrassed, cause the way I see it, we both got shit to be embarrassed about. I was breakin' into your house for months, thinkin' I was invited."

You wince a little, and he just smiles, shrugging his broad shoulders that what's done is done, nonchalance easing your anxiety for the first time ever rather than making it worse.

"I used to stand out there in front of your door and talk to your doorbell like you'd talk back to me any minute," Joel says with a laugh. "Course, now I get that you probably ain't got it hooked up. Never did hear the fuckin' thing ring."

Fuck. Right. Yeah, he's got you there. You'd bought it when you moved in, at your mom's insistence, and never got around to connecting it to anything. You figured it just being there would be deterrent enough and, other than visits from Joel, it had been.

He laughs again at your poorly masked grimace, and any other time you'd maybe be infuriated by him finding humor in something you'd been hurting over for weeks. It's not until you meet his eye and see the silliness in it all too - neither of you really did have any hope.

"Right? It's dumb. Not you, not me, it's just dumb. I even used to tell you when I'd be over next, let you know when to expect me. Leave out a key or put the door on the latch if it's okay for me to come by. I thought I was bein' invited in, but I was breakin' in. Shit. You're embarrassed, and I'm a criminal, I guess we're both losers."

Any anger you had is gone in a flash as laughter ripples through your belly and out your throat. In a way, it's all true. Joel was just as fucked as you, had just as much to be embarrassed and fearful about as you. Unknowingly leaving your home vulnerable to intruders is one thing, but being an accidental criminal for months is another.

"I liked it. I... I never knew when you were coming."

"Hey, if that's what gets your rocks off," he says with a wink, and you laugh again. "I ain't one to judge, but we can explore that in safer ways than keepin' a door unlocked day and night."

You both realize what he said the second the word left his lips.

We.

As in us.

As in together.

And you think he might take it back as quick as he said it, but he doesn't. He just looks at you, half fearful that he said the wrong thing, half hopeful that he said the right thing.

"Okay."

With one word he brightens, and you can feel it in you too. Whatever it is is mutual. Has been since the red velvet coat, since the wings, since the bunny ears, and all the spaces in between.

"Yeah? Cause I'd like to start over, if that's okay with you."

"Well, that sounds like a terrible idea," you say bluntly, because honestly you cannot think of anything worse. Joel's slow steps towards you falter for a second as he tries not to let the disappointment in his face show, but you're already smiling. "You can pry Santa, Cupid, and Flopsy from my cold, dead hands."

And his laugh is glorious, cracking open the remnants of the walls you'd put around yourself and letting your bones soak in the warmth of him, just as his arms come to wrap around you, pulling you against his chest. He smells so familiar - that's one thing you know about him. You might not know about his favorite color, or what he likes to eat, or even his daughters name just yet. But you know what he smells like, how his smile lights up his eyes, and how his hands feel on you, anchoring you in place even as you send yourself dizzy breathing him in.

He's going to kiss you too. You know that, and you welcome it, but before he can, you pull back.

"There's so much I want to know, I don't know how I missed so much."

"You get one question before I'm kissin' you."

You think for just a second before looking down to where your fingers curl into his shirt - an old Fleetwood Mac tee, so washed and worn it's like butter beneath your fingers.

With a wry smile, you look up at him from beneath your lashes, unable to hold back the laughter in your voice. "What are you dressed as today? Don't think I know this one, you're usually on theme."

"This? I'm just your plain ol' friendly neighborhood Joel Miller."

His lips are on yours then, pressing a soft kiss into the curve of your mouth, eyes searching yours for one, two, three seconds, before he dives back in, kissing you in earnest, making up for all the in betweens you'd been wishing away.

You wrap yourself around him, clinging to him, damn near wanting to climb up him, as you make out like teenagers in the middle of your living room. His hands wander across your shoulders, down your spine, grasping at any softness he can find along the way until his hands settle - one on your ass, and one gently cupping the back of your neck.

And as you kiss, holding each other close like you were long lost lovers and not whatever this thing between you was, you can't help but think that Joel Miller may just be your favorite Joel yet.

"Now, I got a question for you," he mumbles into your mouth, each word chased by your kisses. You've never wanted to seem desperate before, but right now you don't care, and by the way he's holding you, Joel doesn't mind either.

"Why the fuck do you have a nightlight?"

Shooting him an inquisitive look, you follow his gaze over your shoulder.

There on your counter, little light blinking away, is your very own clitty-blaster-3000, a luminous ghost with its mouth set in a permanent O, glowing brightly in the darkness. Shit. You'd brought it down this morning to charge, needing to keep a watchful eye on it and its janky magnetic charger to make sure it charged fully. You'd totally forgotten about it, and now here it was, glowing like a beacon after being out in the sun all day.

You try to pull away from Joel, but with his arms locked around your body, and his mouth pressing soft whiskered kisses to your neck, you don't have the strength, or the inclination, to move.

"It's not a nightlight, I can go put it away, if you just gimme-"

He tucks you behind him, swatting away your arms as you feebly try to reach around and grab it from him. Truthfully, you quite like the idea of him holding it, using it, but you feel bad that he might not know what it is.

"Not a nightlight, huh?" He says, grabbing the toy from the counter, said charger immediately popping off and clattering to the ground. He inspects it, turning it over in his hands, bringing it so close to his face it casts shadows across his features with its glow. "Oh, I know what this is."

"What is it then, smartass."

"Other than Pac-Man's worst nightmare? It's one of them clitty-blaster-3000 things."

Eyes wide, you double over, cackling and holding desperately onto yourself so you don't totally fall apart in front of him. He laughs with you, though maybe it's a little bit at you too, but you don't mind.

"What?!" he says smiling as he watches you fight to right yourself, gripping his forearm with laugh weakened fingers.

"That's what I call it!"

"Yeah? It good?"

His eyes are burning into yours. You know where this is going, and there's a brief thought that maybe you should stop it, slow things down. But you don't. Instead, you bite your lip and nod, making a noise of confirmation as Joel fiddles with the buttons on the toy.

A second later, it whirrs to life, a gentle throbbing buzz meeting your ears.

Joel puts his thumb over the hole, the suction gently hammering away at his finger tip as he clicks up and up through the intensity until he's well past a level you can use it at.

"Shit, yeah. Can see how that'd feel good."

"I, uhm, like to tease myself with it."

"Yeah?" he says as it clicks back down through the settings and rests on the softest one again. "Is that how you use it? Just to tease yourself?"

"No," you say, gasping a little when he raises the toy to your neck, pressing the mouth of the ghost to you as if pressing a kiss to your skin. "I - I just kinda stick it on there, to be honest. But I go slow with the - with the settings."

Joel clicks up one setting, the gentle thrumming at your neck intensifying a little.

"Yeah? You take your time? Give her what she deserves?"

You forgot what this was like - how easy and good it was to give in to wanting him, and how easy it was to let yourself have him too.

"Mhm."

"Good. Can't say I ain't jealous though. Missed comin' here. Seein' you. Thought about you, thought about comin' to see you but -"

"Thought about you too."

"When you were usin' this?"

You nod, tilting your head to the side and sighing as he glides the tip of the toy across your pulse point, behind your ear, down the column of your throat.

"Can I use it on you?"

You damn near want to tell him he can do whatever the fuck he wants with you, but the words are lost when you nod again and he captures your mouth in another kiss, brutal in its softness as he guides you back to your couch and all the plush cushions you have stacked there. Since Christmas, your home décor skills have definitely improved. Things look a little less bare, the place looks a little more lived in. There's still pictures to hang and empty spaces on shelves to fill, but you know those things will come in time. For now, you're grateful for the comfy place you've made on your sofa as Joel sits you down, guiding you down with strong hands.

Your shorts are quickly pulled off, the toy pulled from your neck so Joel can kiss his own better trail across your flesh. You hold him to you, anchor him into your bosom like he might drift off like a spectre in the night if you don't, but he's as latched to you as you are to him.

And then he's on his knees for you, jeans straining as his cock swells, hands gripping your thighs then pushing your shirt up, exposing you for him. Panties soon follow your shorts, yanked down your legs in a joint effort by your left hand and his right as he can't resist lapping at your mouth, tangling his tongue with yours.

He's everything you tried to forget, and some of the things you did. He's strong, and broad. He's gentle too, and soft - his eyes, mostly, but some other parts of him too. He's silly, and playful, smiling into your mouth and nipping at you, the hand by your thigh teasing the buzzing toy over the delicate skin there and delighting in your shudder.

As he moves it closer, the sounds of the suction against your skin making you both giggle, he moves down, burying his face into your neck and breathing in. You already know that it's never been like this before - that this is something new, just like every other time before had been something new.

"So you just stick it on, huh?"

"Lube. With lube."

His face is between your legs in an instant, licking messily around your clit, not really trying to get you off, just aiming to get you wet. When he pulls back, toy in hand, he raises the glowing toy mouth to his own and licks, smiling at the sound of it suctioning to his tongue.

"That good enough?"

And you nod, giving in to his kisses again before he breathlessly spreads you apart with both hands, looking at your cunt like if he blinks it'll all fade away.

"You know I ain't seen this for three months?"

"You been counting?"

"I missed you," he repeats with a breathless kiss to your thigh. "Missed this."

He lights his way with the glow of the toy rumbling in his hand, pulling back your clit for just one second, barely holding in a groan, before he gently holds the mouth of the ghost to you, pressing until the obscene slurp is muffled by full suction on your clit.

And it's divine, just like it always is, but somehow made even better by the man doing it to you. Fascinated eyes don't stop watching as it hammers air lightly at your clit in a constant rhythm, and the sight alone makes you drip. You're grateful for the heat now, and the sheet you'd covered your velvet sofa with, saving you an undoubtedly messy clean up later.

The toy slips when Joel climbs back off his knees to press his mouth to yours, and the air splutters and ripples past your skin again, as Joel laughs into your mouth.

"The sound of this thing, jesus fuckin' christ. Sounds like you're -"

"Don't. Don't make me laugh, you'll distract me."

"I like it when you laugh," but he's already pressing it flush to your skin again, stopping the sound and sending the ripples directly back to your clit.

"Ohh, f- "

"That's it," he says, watching as your hips rock ever so slightly into the throbbing toy sucking away on your clit. "Fuck, that's it. Lettin' me get you off with this thing."

"Think I can get some fingers in and keep this right where you need it?"

"Mm."

"Yeah?" he says, swiping at your entrance with his middle fingers, carefully holding the toy in place with his palm. "Just like that. There we go. Right in there. Fuck, I missed this. Missed bein' in here."

"Fuck."

"That's it. You come on 'em. Wanna feel it."

"Joel, down. Move it down. Ple- ah."

"There?"

"Right there," you sigh, panting and barely making it through the words before your eyes snap shut.

And then Joel is in your ear, his breath fanning against you, cooling you for a second even as his fingers stoke the fire raging in your core.

"You're fuckin' beautiful," he murmurs, and you just know he's looking down at you, the picture of a perfect mess. A sheen of sweat on your skin, lips swollen and parted as you gasp, thighs spread wide, hips rocking into Joel's illuminated palm, t-shirt rucked high over your hips, hands on your tits, nipples pinched between your own fingers, moaning, panting, coming.

You twitch in his arms, burying your head in his neck and breathing deep. Something about the position you're in can keep it going longer, can keep that thrumming pressure on your clit right where it is, past your usual limit, dragging your orgasm on and on until you're gasping Joel's name.

He gingerly pulls the glowing toy off of you - its brightness dimmed only slightly since you lost sight of it between your legs - fiddling with buttons until he gives in and throws it to the side to run his hands over you.

With a light kisses to your parted lips, he apologizes, giving you softly muttered sorrys for ever upsetting you, for taking so long to come talk to you, and before you can return the sentiment, he sends you laughing again.

"And I'm sorry for breakin' into your house. Accidentally."

Your laughter makes him shift, and his face contorts as he gasps in discomfort.

"Fuckin' jeans. Pinchin'," is all he says, as he tries to adjust himself. You can see his zipper strain with the weight of his cock, stiff and unattended, behind the thick fabric.

"Take 'em off."

"Came here for you, not me."

"And if I want you to come for me?"

Joel blinks.

"Then I'm takin' my damn pants off," he says, taking his pants off. He sighs in relief when the pressure on his cock is released, groans when your hand palms him over the damp fabric, gasps into your mouth when you slip your fingers beneath his waistband, finding his cock slick and wet with precum, curses into your hair when you lick the salty taste of him from your fingers.

Tugging his boxers down a little more, his cock springs free, slapping his wet tip against his belly. In a blink you're on him, pulling off his shirt as you go to suck wet kisses into his neck, his chest, and letting your fingers toy with his nipples and the other feel down past his boxers, cupping his balls and rolling your thumb across the sensitive flesh before he pushes up into you.

He's solid. You're surprised he didn't come in his pants with how firm he feels slipping against your cunt. You meet his thrust, grinding down into his solid length, trying to hold your own shirt up so you can see the tip of his cock as he ruts against you.

"Does that feel good?"

"Fu - yeah. Y'always feel good."

"Y'know what would feel better," you whisper, scratching gently down his chest and watching goosebumps prickle his skin. With a shift of your hips, his next thrust pushes in, just slightly, before popping out and grinding into your clit again. His next thrust - slower, firmer - notches against your entrance and pushes in, Joel's hands on your ass dragging you down, until you're seated to the root of him.

It's a stretch. It always was. But over three months, and a decline in solo sessions, made it even more so.

Still, even through the stretch, you rock against him, looking into the eyes of Joel Miller, the normal, every day guy who lives down your street, and smile at it all, and the look on his face that says he couldn't be luckier.

"Said I wanted you to come, didn't I?"

And you meant it. You show him how much you mean it as you start to ride him, lifting higher and higher off of him before pushing back down. Your thighs clap against his, wet with sweat and slipping together with each movement, echoing around your living room.

It doesn't last long. It can't. It's too fucking hot, and you're woefully out of practice as the stretch in your pussy turns into a burn in your legs. You can see Joel's face start to pinch and contort, looking between your face, your bouncing tits, and the slip of his cock in and out of you, barely visible in the shadows.

But you can't keep going. You'll pass out if you do. Joel's hands register what you're doing before his face does, gripping tighter and holding you down on him, before his mouth opens in a gasp, his head falling back after losing something he was so close to getting.

You barely pull in a breath of warm air before Joel is dragging you down, flipping you unceremoniously onto your back on the floor.

It's cooler down here, even with Joel's body over yours. It's why you were on the floor to begin with, before he came back, before you let him back in. Joel fumbles against you, the sweat on your body acting more like a full body lube at this point, before he slides back in, knocking the air out of you as he fills you all over again.

Even though his knees will be bruised in the morning and your back will ache, he pounds into you, gripping your shirt and pulling you down with each thrust.

And it's just so fucking good you can't help but practically scream as he fucks you, moaning loudly into his ear as he groans and pants and swears into yours. Your fingers can't find purchase against his back, even as you desperately claw at him. There's too much sweat - it's too fucking hot in here - but you wouldn't change any of the desperate mess that you find yourselves in here on the floor.

He's growling, balls slapping against you, fucking you so hard you have to throw a hand out to hold onto the couch.

"I'm gonna - fuck - look at me. Look. Fuck. Fuck."

He presses in then, spurting deep in you, stealing the air from your mouth, and you from his, as you gasp and groan with each shallow thrust of his hips.

When he pulls out, hands going from bruising grip to gentle strokes, he rolls off of you, his back slapping wetly against the ground just as your pussy makes its own equally wet sound. And you laugh, because it's silly, just like it always has been, with or without a costume or a name that's not quite his own to go with it. Joel chuckles along with you, content and dozy from his orgasm, the evidence of it trickling out of you and making a mess of your floor as your stomach contracts with laughter.

The house cools down in the darkness - not much, but enough. Your hands find each other again too, and you each dance small patterns across each others skin until words come back to you.

You talk there on the floor, sweat drying on your skin, until the rumble of your stomach becomes too distracting to continue. You learn his favorite color, what he does for a living, his daughters name. You even learn the exact make and model of his truck, something you immediately forget.

And when he tries to excuse himself, too frightened of overstaying his welcome, you invite him to stay, and Joel Miller, the best Joel you've ever met, says yes.

next part

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[cherrycherrylady2024]

Christmas with the Grimes'

Christmas with the Grimes'

(Dilf! Rick Grimes x reader) Word count: 1,945

Warnings: 18+, descriptions of dilfs? This one is pretty tame tbh

Chapter 1: Mr. Grimes

Packing your bags for winter break, you thanked your lucky stars you had somewhere to call home for the next month and a half. There was the option of staying in the dorms but you came to terms with the fact that that would simply be too sad. Plus you certainly couldn’t go back to your parent's house, you hadn’t spoken to those two since the day you graduated high school. You were finally well and truly on your own. College was everything you had dreamed it would be. Partially thanks to Judith, your roommate, for dragging you out of the dorm that first week of school. 

You purposely picked the earliest move-in date and had already been living in the dorm for two weeks before Judith even arrived. You tried your best to spruce it up with what little decor you had and sat wringing your hands all day for this girl to appear. With random roommate assignments who knew what you’d be getting? When the door began to open with a click! of the handle, your stomach dropped to your toes, but the second Judith walked in you knew everything would be okay. She immediately ran over to you and almost knocked you over with a bear hug. She was the sunshine that brought you out of your shell, and you two were BFFs since that very day. When she invited you to stay with her family over winter break, it was nearly impossible to say no. 

~~~

“C’mon y/n we’d have so much fun! I can show you around my town, I mean what little there is to see, but still! We can go ice skating, watch movies, have snowball fights with my brother- plus my dad makes some seriously fucking good eggnog.” Judith chatted into your ear as you were finishing up your last essay for finals. You sighed and pushed away from your desk, rubbing your eyes. This paper would be the death of you, especially with Judith's distractions. “That all sounds great, really, but wouldn’t it be an imposition on you guys? I mean Christmas is kinda special and I don’t want to be intruding on your-” Judith cuts you off. “Please intrude! We do the same stuff every year, it gets sooo boring. Anyways, I’ll miss you too much, so I’m not really asking at this point.” Judith plops on her bed and opens her laptop. “This is a kidnapping now?” you ask. Judith types furiously on her computer, “For the greater good. You can’t sit here and mope for the next month and a half, that’s too depressing.” She pauses for a second, staring at her laptop screen. “Is an 8 am train too early?” 

You sigh, and lean back, stretching, mulling it over for a moment.

 “Way, way, too early,” you say.

Judith looks up at you and smiles.

~~~

So here you were, bags packed and ready to go. You two took the bus to the Amtrak station and boarded easy-peasy. “Y’know, I always thought train travel would be like Murder on the Orient Express, but this is like… shanking on the shitty express,” you remarked as you examined the stained seat, shabby carpeting, and… let’s just say, unusual fellow passengers. You quickly corrected yourself, “I mean- not to sound ungrateful or anything.” Judith rolled her eyes in agreement, “Believe me this isn’t my first choice either. It’s only a four-hour drive, if my dad would let me bring my truck up we wouldn’t have to-” she was interrupted by the train starting up. It began to slowly peel away from the station. “Here we go!” you exclaimed, surprising yourself with how oddly excited you felt. Judith yawned, shifting in her seat. “I should’ve gone with the noon train, even 10 am feels like the crack of dawn.”

20 minutes later you were bored as hell and Judith was fast asleep, snoring every once in a while. Your phone had spotty service as it was, but now going through the countryside it was virtually impossible to do anything. You occupied yourself by looking out of the window. When that got boring you too tried to close your eyes, but Judith's snores were becoming increasingly loud. You looked at her and contemplated throwing goldfish into her half-opened mouth, but decided against it. 

Studying her for a little, you concluded that she looked a lot like her dad, from the one time you met him. 

It was the day Judith moved in.

~~~

Judith pulled away from the hug, “Y/n, right? I’m Judith. It’s so nice to meet you! I like your energy already,” she held your hands as she said this. “That's so sweet of you, you too!” you responded. “And this is my– dad come on!” Judith turned to the door, ushering in her father. The man was balancing two large moving boxes, labeled aptly as Judith’s shit, which obscured his face. “Jesus Judith, what’s in here? Boulders?” He shuffled over and plopped down the two boxes on the twin bed across from yours, breathing out in a huff. “Just my rock collection.” Judith teased. Her father wiped his face and turned to you, making a clack sound in his cowboy boots, “Nice to meet ya, m’Rick” he said, extending his hand to you. 

You froze.

Damn. 

He was handsome. 

You didn’t typically use that word to describe guys. They were always “cute” or “hot,” but this wasn’t a guy: this was a man, and he was fucking handsome. His skin was a little bit bronzed from the summer sun, and you immediately found your mind wandering to where those tan lines might end. Rick's hair was dark brown, thick, and pushed back, ending in perfect curls. You were instantly enraptured by his stunningly blue eyes. How do eyes that blue even exist? Rick had a strong and direct gaze, and you got the feeling that from one look, he could know all about you. Was it crazy to say he had a sexy nose too? You had never liked facial hair until this day. This was nothing like the scraggly high school mustaches you were accustomed to. Rick had a short, slightly salt-and-pepper, beard that perfectly accentuated his high cheekbones. His voice was deep and rough, with a sexy southern drawl that you clocked immediately. He wore a plain white t-shirt which, due to the August heat, stuck to him in just the right places. 

Damn. 

The dark blue jeans fit him perfectly, paired with a black belt cluttered by loops and pouches, what for? You weren't sure. The only thing you could identify on the belt was the gun holster, and the revolver snugly clasped in it. 

You took all this in in the few seconds he had turned to you. His hand was still outstretched when you came to.

“Oh- hi Mr. Grimes, I’m y/n.” You shook his hand gently in a daze. His hands were warm, a little rough, and covered yours completely when he brought the other one on top. “Nice to meetcha y/n. And just Rick is fine.”

Rick. Rick. Rick. Rick. Rick. Rick. Rick. Rick.

You nodded your head fervently and withdrew from the handshake. You did your best to act normal but your eyes drifted straight back down his body to the revolver. Judith had already made herself busy unpacking, and didn’t even need to turn around to know what you must be wondering, “Dad I told you to leave your gun in the truck, it freaks people out.” She turned back to the both of you, holding a teddy bear, “Don’t worry y/n he’s not in the mafia or something, that’d be way too cool for him.” Rick shook his head with a smile, his hand on his hip, “How do ya know I’m not?” Judith moved swiftly past him, grabbing something from his belt. “Hey!” Rick laughed. She tossed it to you and upon catching it, you turned it over in your hands. It was a shiny gold sheriff's deputy badge. 

Officer Rick Grimes.

Damn.

You chuckled lightly and handed it back to him, your fingers brushing his, as Judith entered the bathroom with a box labeled shower shit. “Don’t let your mob buddies see that badge,” you teased. Rick smiled (Damn.) and put it back in his belt pocket, “Thanks for the tip.” 

Judith emerged from the bathroom, “Dinner?”

The dinner was unfortunately quick, mostly Judith talked and you listened. Rick chimed in now and again but it was more for you two roommates to get to know each other. You couldn't help but sneak a few glances at Rick throughout the dinner. You watched as his muscles flexed in his forearms, studied when he’d crack a smile, and nearly swooned when he leaned back and swept a hand through his hair, his arm outstretched on the booth behind Judith.

It was like he was magnetic. Every time you looked away you felt a calling for more. You shook the feeling as best you could and focused on Judith. You found out she had a younger brother, Carl, who was a bit of a troublemaker. Through mouthfuls of pasta, Judith put it bluntly that their mom had passed away years ago. "I'm sorry to hear that," you responded. You glanced at Rick for a reaction, finding nothing. You told Judith about your family, sugar-coating some of the details as you swirled your pasta around, not making eye contact. She seemed to catch on fast and didn’t pry. You already liked that about her.

After paying for dinner, and you thanking him profusely, Rick escorted the two of you back to your dorm building. He gave Judith a bear hug goodbye, “I wish I could stay longer sweetheart but I gotta get up early in the mornin’.” He looked over to you and winked “Mafia stuff.” You smiled (oh my god) back as Judith pulled away. “It’s alright, I’ll see ya at parent's weekend pops!” She kissed him quickly on the cheek and headed towards the stairwell to the dorms. Rick chuckled, then shrugged his shoulders and looked to you, “She’s keepin' it all inside.” He said, patting his heart. You laughed, “I’m sure.” Judith yelled to you from the door, “C’mon y/n we gotta lot of catchin’ up to do!” You turned back to Rick, “Thank you so much again for dinner. It was nice meeting you, Mr. Grimes.” He clasped a hand down on your shoulder (fuck). “No problem, you girls be good now, ya hear?” He leaned down closer to you, whispering, “Don’t let her drive you crazy”. You titter nervously, a little overzealous, as he pulls away. Oh my god Oh my god Oh my god.

You could smell his cologne. Or maybe it was just him. A rich, woodsy, musk that you wanted to stuff your face into.

“I heard that Dad!” Rick spun on his heel and began walking away, his hands in his deputy jacket pockets. “Goodnight girls.” You watched him walk away for a moment, then followed after Judith.

~~~

That was nearly 5 months ago, and the last time you’d seen Rick Grimes. You didn’t have a crush per se, I mean, he was a grown man and you were….…well, technically of age, but it would be weird, right? Right??

I mean maybe it's not so bad if- NO. You need to snap out of it. You hadn’t even thought about him (much) the whole semester, but the notion of seeing him again gave you butterflies that you desperately tried to squash. He is your best friend's dad for god's sake. Not that anything would ever happen, but there was no reason to make things weird for yourself in your own mind. He’s Judith's dad, and he just so happens to be good-looking, nothing more nothing less.

Well- really good-looking. And funny too. Very charming. But nonetheless your best friend's dad! 

A dilf and your best friend's dad. 

This was going to be a long winter break.

***

notes: ahhhhhhh! ok so this is my first fic ever and I already have a few more chapters written and planned so lmk what you think! All comments, reposts, etc. are very much appreciated <3 stay tuned for more!

[olympeline]

When it comes to FrUK, I tend to be meaner to Arthur. So let’s switch things up and be mean to Francis for a change! For equality 😘

Picture, Francis: country of love and romance, who teases, charms, flirts, presses kisses to hands, and whispers sweet nothings, but never goes further. Never starts relationships and gently pushes away anyone who tries. He doesn’t want to because he’s been in love for centuries. With, of course, his eternal rival across the channel. It started with Arthur having a one-sided crush on Francis when they were kids, but then they grew up and the interest reversed. Now it’s Francis pining over Arthur who seems to feel nothing but contempt for him. Which is shitty for Francis in many ways but sucks extra hard because Arthur is well into his Perfidious Albion persona by this point.

Unlike Francis, who flirts but won’t ever go further than kisses, Arthur is free loving all over everyone like a rash. Perfidious can translate as “faithless” and yep, thaaaat’s Arthur: kind of a ho, lol. He’ll go with anyone, and I mean anyone. Nation-people, humans, fae, anyone who shows interest. Anyone, that is, except his eternal rival across the channel. Francis pretends not to care when the other nations gossip about Arthur’s latest conquests, but inside he cares. A lot. But what can he do? Arthur hates him more than anything. He never responds to Francis’s flirting with anything other than aggression. Francis and Francis alone can’t get the time of day from Europe’s erotic ambassador, much less get into his pants. Crushing. Arthur must hate him so much. Francis belives this wholeheartedly and has resigned himself to a life alone. Playing the role of Arthur’s enemy. If he can’t have the man he’s in love with, then he doesn’t want anyone else. If for no other reason than Francis is kindhearted when it comes to love. It wouldn’t be fair to doom a partner to a life of eternal second best.

This goes on for centuries. Arthur collects notches from anything that moves, Francis puts on a flippant front but pines away inside. Then, one day, Arthur gets really drunk at a bar in France. Francis is called to come get him and he drags Arthur back to his home in Paris. Arthur is depressed about something and drunker than usual. Francis tries to make him lie down and sleep it off, only to get the shock of his life when Arthur lunges up and attempts to kiss him. Then spills his guts and tells Francis that he’s in love with him. Him and only him. Truly, madly, deeply. He never stopped being in love with Francis, actually. Arthur - pessimist he is - ached but gave up on Francis early. Thought that Francis’s flirting didn’t mean anything because Francis flirted with everyone only to never let them get close. Francis broke Arthur’s heart when they were kids, though he didn’t realise it at the time. So Arthur kept him at arms length ever since and tried to fill the void with meaningless sex.

Francis is…well, he just got the shock of the millennium. Arthur passes out while he’s still trying to take it in. Then the penny drops and Francis is ecstatic and melodramatic and happy crying everywhere because his feelings are returned! His broken heart healed! It’s a miracle! Now he and Arthur can be together at last. Seems great, right? But wait, wasn’t this post supposed to be mean to Francis? Hehe, we’re not done yet, dear reader.

When Arthur wakes up the next day, he’s forgotten everything. Forgotten the kiss, forgotten his entire confession. A night’s worth of memories dissolved away to nothing in cheap French wine. Not only that, he realises where he is and jumps out the window in spite of his hangover. Escaping while Francis is distracted cooking them the best breakfast he’s ever made. So poor Francis got the confession he always longed for and thought was impossible…and it’s immediately meaningless. Francis now knows Arthur loves him back (he’s nothing but totally honest when he’s that drunk) but good luck getting Arthur to admit it. He’s spun himself a nice, comfy little web of denial over the last few centuries. Francis making crazy claims about love confessions and telling Arthur he loves him back is just more dirty tactics from an enemy trying to throw him off balance. Riiiight? Well, Arthur Bloody Kirkland won’t fall for it! Not a chance!

Francis: It’s the truth, Angleterre! You told me you love me!

Arthur: Fuck you, frog! I would never! *Flounces off to have pirate sex with Antonio*

Francis: *Internal screaming*

They get a happy ending eventually

[allpiesforourown]

Father Pie, I need advice.

I feel like a really shitty person for this. I have anxiety and feel depressed at times also, struggling with getting through my days and keeping hope sometimes. How I deal with this is by trying to keep positive but also using fandom (especially ao3 and tumblr) as an escape from my life.

With the horrible war going on in Gaza, there are a lot of people asking for help. Especially here on tumblr. I’ve gotten asks about fundraisers, but I haven’t done anything about them. I feel really awful about it, but I know a lot are scams while others are real. I’m always nervous when I get them as to whether they’re real or not. I do get ones with claims of verification, but sometimes I’m not sure how to go about making sure that claim is real. But, even if they are real, I’m not sure I would post them. Like I said, I use tumblr as an escape and to try to keep positive, wanting to keep my blogs related to fandom or positivity that I can also scroll through when I’m feeling overwhelmed and anxious to calm down. I also have very limited energy and my head is cloudy a lot, making it hard for me to research and look into things. I mostly get through my days with only a very few hours that I actually feel like I can really think and comprehend complex things and those hours(only about 2-3 the entire day) are spread throughout the day in bursts of 30 minutes to an hour. I also have schoolwork so I usually spend that time working on that. It feels selfish to not share these gofundmes and people asking for help just for my own anxiety and problems. They’re going through so much worse, horrors I can’t even imagine, but I’m not sharing their asks for help. I feel so shitty and terrible about doing this, but every time I see one of the fundraisers, I feel my anxiety spike and need to take time to calm back down. Having that on my blogs would be counterproductive to what I’ve made them for. I usually scroll through tumblr when I don’t feel like I can do anything else and just need some sort of distraction, so it’s definitely when my brains not functioning at full capacity and it’s difficult to think.

I’ve been spinning this around in my head for a long while, and every time I think on it, I feel worse and worse. Because of this, sometimes I don’t even want to open tumblr because I’m scared there’s going to be an ask in my inbox asking for help and I don’t know what to do with it. I’m the type of person who freezes up and hides when anxious and I already have a hard time making decisions without that decision being about people’s lives. I’m also still financially dependent on my parents so I can’t contribute money to them either. My only way to help would be by other means—like sharing their fundraisers. I feel like a horrible person for ignoring the asks. I know they’re going through hell. I don’t have anyone irl I can ask or talk to about this and the more I think about it, the worse I feel. So, I’m asking you, Father Pie.

I’m really sorry if this sounds totally out of touch, but I’m honestly asking about what to do. I always strive to be a good person, but my mental health isn’t great and I have a lot of setbacks already. I do want to help, but I’m just not sure how to go about it in a way that also protects my mental health. Overall I try to keep my posts more positive and not heavy in all aspects, not delving into deep politics and controversy. I’m an adult, but new to using social media due to not being allowed by my parents until I was 18, so dealing with this sort of thing is all new to me.

Just reading this over and I feel worse. Like I’m some spoiled little thing not wanting to deal with the bad in the world because it inconveniences me. I’ve thought about asking before but always chickened out thinking I should just deal with this on my own. I don’t know how to, though. So please, Father Pie, what should I do? What is there to do? Do you have any advice for me?

Reading this, I don't think your issue is with fundraisers or politics. I'm going to say this straight up, and anon this will hurt but you need to hear it: there is no such thing as a safe place where you never have to worry about anything.

Even if you stay tucked away on your fandom blog, there will still be rude and disrespectful people starting discourse. At schools, there will always be bullies and cruel teachers. At jobs you will always have coworkers who treat you like shit. Even at home, there will be issues.

It looks like your parents sheltered you a lot, but this mentality is not sustainable. I've been there. I have severe anxiety and when I was younger, I felt like my heart would stop when someone would be mean to me. When something happened that I wasn't prepared for, my heart would pound for hours. But this is not any way to live. There are lots of scary things in life that you need to deal with. No ifs or buts. If you feel like you have a heart attack every time you even think of other people experiencing tragedy, what will you do if those things ever happen to you, or to someone you love?

You clearly rely on a lot of people, like your parents. But can those people rely on you? Could someone who's always been there for you talk to you about something traumatic they went through, or would they need to worry about if you can handle hearing about it?

I know it's hard to hear, but that's how it is. You have to see the bad things in life. You have to do the things that are hard. You have to learn instead of saying you're too young to know. You cannot form meaningful relationships until you're someone people know they can count on when it matters. Looking away from the things that make you uncomfortable will not help you grow as a person. And you cannot decide you want to stop growing and stay where you are, because it's clearly some place you aren't happy with yourself.

My advice? You're an adult, go out and talk to strangers at a club. Travel, there's lots of cheap and safe ways to do that. Volunteer. Work out in public, whether it's going for a run around your neighbourhood or joining a gym. If those things sound terrifying, it's because you need to do them until they aren't anymore.

[imsadstuff]

Loving You Is Red - A Jeon Jungkook Fic, voice memo's that were never sent

Synopsis: Jeon Jungkook's name was unheard on the Formula 1 paddock till he got a chance to drive a Mercedes car as a reserve driver. His 2020 starts looking brighter as he signs with Ferrari and meets you, his team mates little sister. So many cliched tropes, strangers to friends to lovers, slow burn, dating brother's best friend, and most importantly Jeon Jungkook looks smoking hot in a Ferrari! Genre: Angst, lots of it, happy ending Word Count: 3.5kAuthor's Note: So, this is a little extra instalment based on something my boyfriend did. He told me about the voice notes he left for me during our break up. he wanted to call and tell me a million things, but instead he'd leave a voice memo in his phone, pretending like they got to me. made me sob like a baby. so, this is a version of that for loving you is red, different voice notes Jungkook records for OC over the five years they're apart... I highly recommend you read the fic to have a better understanding of this. You can find the fic here

please don't be a ghost reader, likes, comments, reblogs, show your appreciation (given you like it 🫣)

Day after Abu Dhabi Race 2020

Jungkook was hungover and tired, the night had been kind of a blur after he won the race. He still couldn’t believe he was the 2020 F1 world champion, he still couldn’t believe you weren’t in the bed beside him, he still couldn’t believe he let you go.

Jungkook was drinking to feel numb, but the morning came and the emotions were starting to eat him up. His hand hovers over your number, Jungkook wants to apologise and wants you back, but he fights the urge as he locks his phone and throws it on the bed as he walks into the washroom.

Walking back with his towel low on his hips, he picks up his phone again, opening the voice recorder app instead. He needs to let out all the intense emotions he’s feeling.

“Hey, just got done crying in the shower. I feel so overwhelmed and anxious, so much is happening all at once. I can’t believe yesterday really happened” he sighs as the app continues recording as he sits down on the bed.

“I’m supposed to go out and celebrate my amazing season but I feel sick just thinking about yesterday. I feel so guilty, I don’t deserve this win” tears are staining his cheeks again, he takes a few deep breaths to compose himself.

“We weren’t supposed to end this way ___…” your name feels heavy in Jungkook’s heart as he presses stop on the recording. Flopping back in bed, he allows himself to cry a little more, processing everything is just too much right now. 

1st January 2021

“It’s been a month and a half since I last saw you, feels like forever” Jungkook struggles to stand still as he records another voice memo. Jungkook’s friends invited him out, hoping to distract him and celebrate the new years, but you were still on his mind.

“The new year started fifteen minutes ago, so my resolution for this year is to get over you, I’m going to get a tattoo to symbolise that too” he promises as he gulps down the whiskey, taking a good look at himself in the mirror. All he sees is a shitty, depressed version of himself and he doesn’t like it one bit.

“I have to start getting over you, I can’t keep feeling broken like this” his voice cracks as he struggles to keep the tears away, he’s been crying a lot more than usual lately.

“I hate myself some more just imagining you being miserable like this. I hope you’ve realised that you’re better off without me, that you deserve someone who prioritises you” he whispers the last part as he lets the tears win once again.

“Happy new year ___, I know this year can’t top the magic that was 2020, but I’ll try. I have to unless all this pain was for nothing” he chuckles dryly as he stops recording. It takes him a few minutes to compose himself, but he does, he’s getting shockingly good at pretending like he’s fine.

Race 2 2021

Jungkook’s frustrated as he shuts the door to his hotel room, it’s the second race of the season and the car is absolutely not supporting him. He can feel the anger simmer inside him as he struggles to fall asleep, he’s been struggling with this for a while now.

“I wish you were here right now. Bad day’s didn’t feel as bad with you” he says as he stares at the ceiling as his phone records beside him.

“You’d probably help me realise that the issues are out of my control, that I need to be a little patient. You’d run your fingers through my hair, in an attempt to calm me down” his hand rakes through his hair as the memory of you doing the same flashes in his mind.

“But most importantly, you’d put on the office because that’s your cure for everything” an actual giggle escapes his lips as he turns off the recording and opens the netflix app.

That night, he falls asleep as Michael Scott does something childish. 

Race 7 2021

“Phillip was on call with you while we were out for a photo shoot and I heard your voice for the first time in months” Jungkook sighs as he takes a seat on the kitchen counter, something you’d usually do.

“I was starting to feel better and then I heard your voice” he says as he eats straight from the pan.

“You were talking about the weather in Oxford, adjusting in your new apartment, your voice sounded the same. Soft as always” he stares into his empty, dark apartment as he wonders what your new apartment looks like.

“And all I’ve been thinking since then is how quickly one can go from knowing each intimate detail of someone’s life to being an absolute stranger to them. How life keeps moving on, even when your heart can’t” he’s starting to lose his appetite the more he thinks about it.

“But I’m glad you’re moving on, You deserve to” Jungkook chuckles as he says that, he means that, he truly does.

“In other news, my year has been an absolute shit show so far, Seven races in and no wins for me yet. Maybe I am just a one hit wonder like the press has been calling me” Jungkook doesn’t find any of this funny, it’s eating him up and the problems just keep piling on.

“I need to stop talking into the recording app and go out and talk to actual people” he thinks out loud as he jumps off the counter, packing away the leftovers.

Summer Break 2021

It’s early in the morning as Jungkook walks closer to the water, the Ibiza wind hitting him in the face and waking him up. He’s been vacationing for all of last week, he has been laughing, hanging out with friends, having a good time, he’s truly been feeling a lot better.

Laying on the beach, he soaks in the morning sunlight, taking a few deep breaths before he starts talking.

“Today would've been our one year anniversary” he sighs as he flops back into the sand, just wanting to lay down for a while. There’s silence for a while as the sentence feels heavy in his heart, just the waves crashing and his heart thumping.

“We wouldn’t be in Ibiza, we’d be closer to the mountains, somewhere cold and cozy” there’s a faint smile on his face as he imagines an alternate universe, where the two of you are still together.

“You would have given me some amazing, handmade gift, like a cute photo book that journals our first year together. I would’ve gotten you some jewellery, probably that bracelet you were eying in Brazil” he remembers the exact bracelet he’s talking about, it’s kind of pathetic that he does.

“But in this shitty version of the universe, you’re probably enjoying your time at university and I get to go to some other club tonight and make small talk with a woman I’m not even remotely interested in”  Jungkook is bitter and angry thinking about what could have been.

“This was for the best, right?” he asks himself as he picks up his phone, saving this voice note with today’s date.

Race 17 2021

“Phillip took me out to dinner because he’s worried about me, he thinks the car issues and lack of winning is starting to get to me” he sighs as he pours himself another drink.

“It is starting to get to me, I’m so scared and anxious about my future it keeps me up at night. Of course it’s already starting to get to me given the panic attack I had during the last strategy meeting” Jungkook looks back at the difficult few months, it’s truly been challenging.

“He told me about going through something similar last year, and to not let the disappointment and temporary failure swallow me” Jungkook sighs for what feels like the millionth time tonight as he downs his drink in one go.

“Phillip told me to talk to him or anyone about my fears, verbalising my fears to someone I trust might help me. Phillip said that he told you the same after your accident, how the fear of a dwindling future paralysed you” hearing your name at dinner was not something he expected, every few months he’d start to forget about you and one thing and the rush of memories come back to him.

“You’re the only one I can think of when it comes to talking about my fears,” Jungkook says as he slides down the sofa and sits on the floor.

“I wish I could call you ___” he shuts his eyes tight as your name rolls off his tongue. His phone keeps recording as he switches on the tv to dissociate for a while. 

Race 22 2021

“So, I didn’t win the championship. Wasn’t even in the top three but that’s the least of my concerns right now” there’s actual joy in Jungkook’s voice as he tussles around in his hotel bed, balancing his phone in his other hand.

“I just got to the episode when Jim interrupts Pam’s talking head to ask her out, and WOW!! The way the biggest smile appears on her face, and how her eyes light up, jesus fucking christ!” he squeals as he sits up in his bed, he might be a little too invested.

"Jim giving up on a promotion for love, peak of romance” Jungkook can’t help but smile, as he thinks back to the scene he’s seen multiple times now.

“After the crapfest of the year I’ve had, I wish I had the willpower to fight Ferrari last year. I can’t believe it’s been a year since we broke up” having spent all these important momentous dates with you, Jungkook can’t help but think back to them a year later.

“Sometimes I can’t believe just how easily you complied with me breaking us up, how you didn’t fight for us, at all” there’s bitterness in his heart about this, he knows it’s irrational but it’s there.

“Something you said sits heavy in my heart, ‘between the two of us, I’m the only one who’s had to give up on a dream without having a say in it’ and that’s just not true anymore” Jungkook remembers every word you said that evening exactly, he just can’t seem to forget them, or you.

“You may have given up on your dream of figure skating, but I gave up on my dream of a future with you”  

Phillip’s Birthday 2022

“I haven’t done this in a while,” Jungkook speaks into his phone as he watches the night sky from the balcony. It had been five months since he had recorded a voice memo instead of calling you, he was starting to forget you.

“I knew I was going to see you today, but, um, I still wasn’t prepared to see you” Jungkook left the party early, he’d had enough of you and your very charming, british boyfriend.

“Christian and you look like you stepped out a romcom, with the perfect met cute story” he laughs genuinely as he thinks back at your chatty boyfriend, so different from you.

“I’m kinda glad seeing how well you’re doing. University, perfect relationship, I really am glad” he repeats in attempts to comfort himself. Taking a good look in the mirror, he has the urge to tug off the sweater he hasn’t worn in ages. The sweater he wore just so you’d notice.

That night, he finally packs up all the things he associated with you, the sweaters, perfumes, diary, books you left around his apartment, you’ve moved on, so should he.

Amsterdam 2023

Jungkook rewatches Phillip’s instagram story for the tenth time today, and there’s a smile on his face everytime he does. It’s a video with a caption that reads, ‘Birthday girl returns to the rink’. A ten second clip of you skating on ice with the biggest smile on your face brings him an amount of joy he hasn’t felt in years.

As you twirl on ice, your hands come into focus and Jungkook notices the ring on your index finger. On the previous watches he might have been a little too distracted by the smile on your face to notice you wearing the birthday gift he gave you. He knows you don’t wear it all the time anymore,because it was missing on Phillip’s birthday less than a year ago.

“Happy 23rd ___” Jungkook talks into his phone as he takes in the prettiest sunset in Amsterdam.

“Today is the first time I’m recording a voice memo when I’m not feeling bitter and depressed” he chuckles out loud and shuts his eyes as the smile on his lips only grows.

“I spent your birthday exploring a vintage bookstore, I was celebrating you in spirit I guess” Jungkook was happy with how he spent his day, going through books for hours.

“I went out for lunch and just stumbled upon this place, it was a happy coincidence. I cancelled my plans for the day and spent it doing something you would love. And for the first time in a while, I thoroughly enjoyed doing something that wasn’t racing” all Jungkook had been doing the last year was work, work related activities and training, he had completely given up on his hobbies.

“You would love this place” Jungkook says wistfully as he looks at a bag full of books he just bought.

Race 2 2024

Jungkook looked at the discarded boxes in his new apartment, and he finally moved to a bigger and better place. The movers had unpacked and arranged everything for him, this place feels foreign and unfamiliar. Jungkook opens a few drawers and shelves before he finds the plates, the only set of plates he owns.

Jungkook presses the record button to record a voice memo, something he hasn’t done in the last six months.

“So, I moved to a bigger, better place. I can afford a ridiculously expensive apartment in Monaco because I’m a two time F1 world champion now!” he says with excitement as he eats the takeout food from the plates you bought him.

“But I still haven’t bought plates, the ones you bought are beautiful, with the blue specks of colours. My favourite colour, apparently” Jungkook says as he takes another bite of the mediocre chinese food.

“And the passcode to this place is still the same as my last one, mostly because I don’t want to remember a new set of numbers. Definitely not because I’m hoping for you to surprise me by breaking into my place” he laughs loudly as he thinks back to the time you let yourself in while he was live streaming, Jungkook really thought someone was breaking in and entering.

“I have a stupid logic for why I won last year's championship, other than the obvious skills and amazing car. I started wearing the chain you gave me, your good luck charm might be my good luck charm too” he smiles widely as his hands go up to touch the chain.

“If it really is a good luck charm, I’ll win this year too” Jungkook has high spirits for 2023, he has high spirits about his personal life too. He turns off the recording when a call notification from Ava pops on his phone.

Race 22 Abu Dhabi 2024

Jungkook is dazed and frustrated as he walks back to his hotel room instead of going back to the club, abandoning his girlfriend but he could care less right now. He hadn’t seen you in over two years, and a three minute conversation has left him feeling empty the same way it did four years ago.

Your voice is ringing in his head as he flops back in bed, how frustrated and bothered you were.

“I hate how broken you looked, how broken you sounded” he whispers another voice memo as he shuts his eyes.

“I didn’t just move on like we never happened, it still shocks me how just six months of us being together bothered me for two years. I DIDN’T MOVE ON FOR TWO FUCKING YEARS ___!” he shouts with frustration, wishing he had said this to you.

“I’VE MOVED ON” Jungkook shouts some more to convince himself.

There are some frustrated huffs until he stops recording, his mind is all over the place and your wide, tear filled eyes haunt him.

December 2024

“So, I broke up with Ava a week after I saw you,” Jungkook says, still sitting in his car. Something clicked after seeing you, he knew all this time that he didn’t really love Ava. You asking him if you did just made him realise that.

“I was using Ava as a distraction and I hate myself for it” he sighs, not really wanting to go back to his empty apartment.

“How can I not love Ava, she’s quite literally perfect for me but I can’t imagine a future with her, at all. Am I damaged? Not capable of loving someone again?” he wonders out loud, his frustration and disappointment growing as he thinks about the mess he is some more.

“Seeing you just reminded me of what loving someone felt like…I couldn’t even be completely honest and open with Ava” he whispers shamelessly.

“You told me about your very destructive tendencies in a relationship, how you cheated on Christian because you couldn’t bring yourself to break up with him, and it just made me realise I was doing the same to Ava” Jungkook talks to himself, he’s been doing a lot of this lately.

“I was hanging onto Ava because I desperately didn’t want to be by myself, I didn’t want to be alone. I hate being alone” he confesses and his eyes are getting a little misty as he thinks about his situation some more. 

That night Jungkook comes very close to actually calling you, he wants some warmth and comfort but he knows he doesn’t deserve any of that, especially from you.

Phillip and Maya’s wedding 2025

“I should have made some lame excuse about being busy or something, why do I do this to myself” Jungkook whines as he struggles with his tie, how does he not know how to tie a tie as a twenty five year old. He’s been pacing around in the hotel room, worried about ruining his chance of seeing you.

“I’m just going to apologise and shut this chapter, I need a fresh start and that can’t happen until I apologise to you and this is my only chance to because I need to be done with you” he frustratingly takes the tie off, wondering if he can rock the open button, casual look.

“I’m just worried that you’re not going to want to see me and then this whole evening is going to be awkward”  he says as he looks for a turtleneck, open shirt is just too casual.

“Is there a delusional idiot in me that thinks that tonight is going to lead to something more? Yes, but you could bring another charming date and shatter my unrealistic expectations” Jungkook is very frightened for a man who drives at 300 kmph every other weekend without any fear.

“I’m just going to ask for your help, this is nothing more than an ex asking another ex to help tie their tie” he chuckles dryly as he downs his drink, needing some liquid courage before he faces you. 

Summer Break 2025

“All I want to do is relax and eat tons of amazing food for the next week,” Jungkook says into his phone as he closes the door to his car.

“Then that’s what we’re going to do, but can you at least tell me where we’re going?” your voice booms on speaker and Jungkook smiles shyly, knowing the suspense is tormenting you. It has been a few weeks since Phillip’s wedding, and since the night he realised something, it’s always been you. It will always be you.

“Pack warm, that’s all I’m going to say right now” he giggles as you grumble on the other side.

“Kook, all my winter clothes are packed up, can you come over and help me get those boxes” you say and he laughs sarcastically.

“Is this just a ploy to get me to come over, if yes you have very bad game ___” he says and you’re the one laughing this time.

“You’re replaceable by a ladder Jeon, don’t get to cocky-” you’re interrupted by your apartment bell ringing.

“Too bad, I’m already here” he says as he’s still on call, you’re a little too elated as you swing the door open.

“Hey-” he’s shut up by your warm lips tugging on his as your arms come around him. Jungkook loses his balance for just a second before he holds you close and deepens the kiss. Jungkook doesn’t have to leave voice memos on his phone anymore, he doesn’t have to pretend to leave you messages. He’s glad he gets to call you, he’s glad he gets to hold you, he’s glad he’s given a second chance with you. 

Another Author's Note: Still working on an epilogue for this, comment under to be added to the taglist if you still aren't on it!!

Tag List: @blancflms @nadzzzblog @kookiewhtaee @jksoftiitii @oiseul @elisaaru @coralmusicblaze @tearyjjeonn @moonchild1 @jungkooksseuphoria @cookysstuff @ohyeahjk @bobakkoo @whoa-jo @kooromiwrld @littlelandalp @marvelover3000 (the last one didn't ask to be added to the taglist but i'm adding them anyway :))

[cookinguptales]

I often wonder what nandermo's trajectory would have looked like had nandor's depression not been accelerated by his big bang crisis or Guillermo had been there for it to encourage him away from spiraling. He seemed really set on making Guillermo feel more equal until he got completely distracted by his own inadequacy and then, ya know, all the rest happened.

Sorry for the delay in getting back to you, anon. Things have been busy for me this month, work-wise, and I wanted to have time to think about it.

Yeah, I feel like a lot of the fic I've written that's s3-era has this question in mind. I feel like Nandor was sort of spiraling for the entire season (frankly, I think you could probably trace it all the way back to season 1, if you wanted to) but things really started getting bad after Gail and his existential crisis in The Casino. It's when the ravages of time really seemed to start getting to him.

Like, I think learning about the fall of Al Qolnidar and seeing the death of his descendant kind of sparked that fixation with time? But Gail leaving him (again) and him realizing the cosmos was not how he imagined it turned all that into a full-blown crisis.

I think, though... I think Guillermo is actually part of the crisis. I think a lot of what started Nandor's downhill slide is this sense that he's not in control anymore. He's not in control of his past (Al Qolnidar is gone, he's forgotten his language, he's lost track of his descendants, etc.) he's not in control of his present (his shitty love life, his existential confusion, the council is not nearly as fun as he thought it would be) and the future is just stretching on and on and on. Like -- he can't even handle his now, and he's supposed to do this forever? Yikes.

And then there's Guillermo. Guillermo is paradoxically both Nandor's rock and the absolute epitome of how much control he's lost. He depends on Guillermo, but Guillermo isn't what he thought he was at all. He loves Guillermo, but he's having to come to terms with the fact that he doesn't know him. Guillermo's got this whole second life that Nandor doesn't have access to, and that makes him itchy. I think that's why we start seeing him ask Guillermo real questions in s3 and trying to get to know him. I think it's why he wants to go on this world trip with him. I think it's why he tests him.

(I think it's why we start to see him develop an interest in Guillermo's family in s4, and why Nandor ended up being so fucking weird about Freddie...)

Also, like... as much as Guillermo is good at comforting Nandor, he's also very good at enabling him. Like, Guillermo knows Nandor's in crisis in s3. I suspect he probably knows about the whole Big Bang thing in detail, especially because it was basically the first thing Nandor said to him when he came back to the US. But Guillermo isn't actually that good at defusing situations with Nandor, if we're being real with each other. He kind of goes along with his insanity sometimes, only stopping him when things have gone way too far.

Some of that is probably habit (he's so used to being subservient) and some of that is like... I mean, he likes Nandor. He wants to help him. He's desperate to be needed. But he's also willing to help Nandor in Nandor's way when he should be helping him in Guillermo's way. Like... sometimes you need to go along with a whole citizenship farce, but sometimes you need to yell at him and snap him out of it. Sometimes you gotta slap the vampire!

But Guillermo still doesn't do that very often in s3, though he's clearly more comfortable with it in s4. (Though... he does still do the familiar fights...)

But yeah, I'd go so far as to say that a lot of Nandor's crises are actually specifically spurred on by Guillermo trying to "help" and just making things weirder and more dangerous.

So... could he have averted all the bullshit in late s3 if he'd tried?

....probably not.

I think things were doomed to blow up one way or another, and Nandor's bad choices (along with some simple bad luck) just picked the way it happened. That said, I do definitely think that things could have gone very differently for nandermo if a few key events hadn't happened in s3 -- imo, the cult and the box.

Nandor was desperately reaching out for ways to find meaning in his life, and the first time, when he went to live with Jan, he left Guillermo to do it. The second time he threatened to do the same, but I think he'd learned his lesson. He was going to bring Guillermo with him on his trip.

And then he wasn't able to.

This trip was supposed to be his way of righting his life. Finding meaning. Clawing back control. He didn't want to think about mortality (see: Colin Robinson) or abandonment (see: Laszlo and Nadja) or existentialism (see: Jan). He wanted to go on a fun trip with the only person who made him feel safe anymore and figure things out.

But we all know how that went...

Like. Yes, obviously things would be different if not for those two events. But I do think that their relationship would have spiraled out of control anyway just because Nandor still has that root control problem with Guillermo. He's still picking away at him, trying to figure out what's real between them now and what's not. Trying to figure out who Guillermo really is and how much he can still trust him -- or, frankly, if he should be trusting him more.

There's a sort of manic edge to Nandor's interactions with Guillermo in s4, and I think it's the continued manifestation of that tension in him. He wants to pull Guillermo closer, he wants to figure him out, he practically wants to crawl inside his skin -- but Guillermo is starting to pull away. And that just makes him even more fucking unhinged about him. He can't handle going on another trip alone, y'know? He really does depend on Guillermo to make him feel safe, emotionally as well as physically.

He just... hasn't really figured any of that out yet, imo. He doesn't get why he does a lot of what he does, or how it all seems to come back to keeping Guillermo close to him and eradicating all the parts of Guillermo's life that he's not allowed to share.

He's so fucking stupid. :')

[melodyofthevoid]

Spotify Discovery 10/2

Lot of ukulele tracks in this one, and it’s a mixed bag. I cannot explain for the life of me what makes a ukelele song sound not bad to me but when I crack that code you’ll know.

Generally good though! The bad tracks though I hated more than last time. Also sorry for the delay I had work and a litany of other things (other writing projects) that distracted me lmao.

Good:

Playing on Train Tracks: Very Mountain Goats in its execution, note that it does cover self-destructive behaviors so be wary but the honesty here is captured so well. I love the use of language and metaphor, cutting live wires, standing on the cliff but never jumping, standing on the train tracks, it hits. The simple instrumentals isn’t overly “stripped down” it fits the subject. Good stuff.

What We Have is You: A song from Kipo, a nice little lullaby. Don’t remember what the context of this bit was in the show but I really liked it. Sterling K Brown has a nice voice.

The Dragon of Climate Change: Not one I’ll listen to frequently but I did enjoy the jaunty folk feel combined with the “fuck the rich” vibes. Calling out carbon credits was a good bit. Very bard core.

Lover (take me to the moon): Gives me confused person in love and I think it works. I wish I could really say what makes these sorts of songs click with me vs brush them off as kinda overdone but I’m afraid it’s a mystery to me as well.

Ghost Choir Vocals: Gives the iconic Ghost Choir lyrics in the style of “Mr.Sandman” and the singer is absolutely lovely. Fun and short, always a treat to hear the ghost choir in general and Louie’s instrumentals lend to the singer’s voice.

Davy Jones: I’ve listened to this cover a shit ton on Youtube and still love the vocals. The Davy Jones/Calypso storyline is a fav and there’s just. Mwah. Chef’s kiss vibes. Not much to say here other than absolute banger. (For an improved experience look up the duet version).

Suffering: A dance to agony, it works in a way of celebrating despite it all. The singer is lovely, the guitar is jaunty, and the rhythm is fast and fun. I like it! Gives me Crane Wives vibes and that’s always a plus for me.

Medusa in a Stone Garden: There’s an interesting energy around this one kinda folk rock? I like the Medusa energy, the repetition can wear on at times but other than that? Excellent.

The Water is Fine: Gives me Mariza/Delta vibes, there’s nice overlap on the vocals, there’s energy here too that is fun. A bit Oh Hellos, a bit Amazing Devil.

Anywhere But Here: A lovely little music box style waltz, very romantic. Melancholic too, and just the sort of thing I like to wind down to.

Duet in Death: Another classical piece, I’m sure if I knew more about the webtoon Nevermore I’d have more of an affinity? But a duet between a piano and a violin is one I’m always a sucker for. I adore violins when they’re done well and this one is spectacular.

Devil’s Flesh & Bones: Another WTNV alumni! Eliza Rickman is neat, she’s got a very distinct voice, kinda Cabaret and kinda jazz. This one all works for me.

Neutral:

Rises the moon: The vocal performance of this cover is… a little shaky at times? But I like the song and I think that it’s alright.

Tough to be a Bug: A twee little ukulele ditty, it’s cute but not really one that I’ll listen to. A bit too soft for me ig.

Bird Song: Not the Florence and the Machine song, but a different one. I enjoyed the folk vibes but the chorus has this kinda tropical electronica and that’s just not my vibe? The song has a general montage feel which works for what it is but a meh experience overall.

A Shitty Gay Song About You: The guitar plus the twinkly xylophone and the monotone vocals aren’t�� really my vibe. The lyrics are kinda neat, but it’s not for me. I could see someone making a cute animatic to it though.

I think I want to be alone: Relatable but the style is a little too TikTok for me with the playful vibes combined with the depressing lyrics? Doesn’t scratch an itch for me.

Nah

Katarina Josephina: I’m not really sure what to make of this one. It’s got the trappings of a folk story song but it’s got a strange energy to it. Not certain what to say doesn’t work for me, but the trap break definitely does not.

The Spider’s Face: I like the song Nothing from this musical but goddamn this one is too “playful sing song evil” for me. The plucking strings and the vocals… it does not do it for me. Very unpleasant to listen to.

Aisling Song: I do not enjoy listening to children sing. This is a child singing in a very ~dreamlike~ way. I’m sure this works in the movie “Secret of Kells” but without the visuals I would really rather not listen.

PATROCLUS MEETS HIS FATE: I love orchestral stuff, I love video game music, but the artificial strings really take away any of the grandiosity for me. It’s very canned and I’m not a fan.

Typical Me: DSMP song and not a good one. I don’t like the vocals or the lyrics. Very monotone and unpleasant.

Give a Little: The saxophone and vintage swing feel are neat but I reaaaaally don’t like the vocals. They ruin it for me. Sorry CG5 but really not doing it for me.

64 Little White Things: This is Scary Jokes with the vocal style and again. Not a fan of that. There’s something about the vocals that just sets my teeth on edge, the sing/talking style with the modulation and the carnival music… no. Can’t do it.

[tinamaetales]

You’re not sorry

“So you’re apologizing…..Ok, I don’t forgive you……No, I’m not gonna give you closure. You don’t get that. You have to live with the shitty thing you did for the rest of your life. You have to know that it’s never, ever going to be okay……I’m not gonna feel better and I’m not gonna be your prop so you can feel better” - Herb Kazaz, BoJack Horseman Ep. 8 Season 1 “The Telescope”

It has been five years since the last time I stepped foot inside my Psychiatrist's office and now looking back there's a part of me that screams I should have continued my therapy....but the thing is I really cannot afford it. And now, I have become messier than ever. My depression got worse and I'm just trying to survive each day. That's the keyword, trying. I used a lot of distractions though, good and bad. Good distractions are the music of my fave, iKON, and watching Miami Heat games. Bad distractions are spending an awful amount of time watching tiktoks of those who are as mentally ill as I am because instead of going to therapy we just rely on the internet to have some sense of belongingness especially when you feel like no one is really on your side. And I do feel that most of the time......I feel like no one truly understands and no one actually believes that I am struggling badly. I'm mentally unstable despite the fact that I do not have a proper diagnosis about my condition. I just know. Why? Because it's my mind and my body. I can feel it. For fuck's sake, I live with it.

What I noticed in our society is that it is easier to doubt someone who is vocal about their struggles instead of believing them and supporting them. It is easier for our society to gaslight someone into thinking that they are just allowing themselves to be weak instead of understanding them. And when someone decides to end their life, it's either people would finally get it and feel remorseful that they should have seen the signs or they would still say that the generation of today is just not mentally strong enough to handle life. And then there's another scenario, someone will be badly mentally fckd up that they end up being a horrible person then they will treat others horribly too. Hurt people will hurt people and so the cycle never ends.

As I mentioned earlier, I used a lot of distractions as I try to live each day. For someone like me who hates going outside and prefers to be alone, binge watching shows on streaming apps is a form of distraction. I’m not really picky when it comes to movies or series that I watch though, I just want the plot to make sense and not be over the top with so many plot twists and unnecessary “different” endings. One of the series I ended up loving is BoJack Horseman. 

BoJack Horseman is not an easy to watch show. Yes it started as a quirky show about a former lead star of a successful 90s sitcom but as it progressed, it showed the harsh reality of the entertainment industry and how not being held accountable for your fuckery can make you a monster. It's crazy because BoJack as the main character of this show is not likable at all (at least for me). Throughout the show you kinda cheer for him to get better and grow up but then he always ends up disappointing you. However, knowing his history, especially with the kind of family he has, you can't help but feel some empathy for him. I guess that's the thing about main characters, despite the flaws you still want them to become triumphant in the end because somehow you can see a version of yourself with them. But how long can a person tolerate one's behavior? I do not want to label myself as a good person because I know that I am far from that but there is a certain part of me that knows how to forgive especially if they are deserving. However, when someone refuses to be held accountable for their mistakes and refuses to see how toxic they are does it really make me the bad one here if I chose not to forgive?

The show has six seasons and 77 episodes but I did not feel that it was long because the execution of the episodes are great. There are a lot of episodes which make me feel uneasy about how close they hit home. But for this blog post I will be discussing two scenes from two different episodes because these two scenes are about the topics of accountability and forgiveness: The Telescopes from ep 8 of season 1 and It’s You from ep 10 of season 3. 

Have you ever met someone who is too full of himself? A person who obviously has issues in life but does not exert efforts in making himself become better and instead use their difficult past as an excuse for being a shitty person? A person who does not want to be held accountable for their mistakes and people around him tolerated him so he never learns? Well that’s my father. Also, that is who BoJack Horseman is. But if we are going to make this a competition about who is worse then my father is definitely winning this contest, unanimously. While watching the show, I cannot help but see parts of my father in BoJack Horseman especially in episodes “The Telescope” and “It’s You” Both of those episodes have confrontation scenes with a friend of BoJack (Herb in episode 8 season 1 and Todd in episode 10 season 3) who refused to accept his apology and want him to be held accountable for his actions. And I both agree with them.

For context, in the “The Telescopes” episode, Bojack apologized to his friend Herb for betraying him years ago. He chose to protect his career instead of standing with Herb. And he even further that betrayal when he did not contact him for so many years. Now that he learned that Herb has cancer, he decided to visit him and apologized and I like that Herb refused to accept such a self serving apology. The quote above was what Herb told BoJack after he apologized. I like the way he emphasized how BoJack is only apologizing now so he can have closure and to make himself feel better. Because horrible people do that. They will only apologize so that their guilt will not eat them up especially when their apology gets accepted. But the damage has been done, right? Just like what the famous saying states, the ax forgets but the tree remembers. What’s the point of accepting an apology if it does not make you feel better but will only make the jerk feel better coz “yey, finally!” their shitty actions were forgiven. Those kinds of apologies are self-serving. They ended up fighting and then Herb said this line (I really like this one, thank you writers!) “You know what your problem is? You wanna think of yourself as the good guy. Well I know you better than anyone and I can tell you that you’re not. In fact, you’d probably sleep a lot better at night if you just admitted to yourself that you’re a selfish goddamn coward who takes whatever he wants and doesn’t give a shit about who he hurts. That’s you. That’s BoJack Horseman” Now, that’s the kind of wake up call that someone like BoJack deserves to hear. He deserved those words because they are true, he’s a coward. He always blames others or the circumstances to make himself feel better instead of owning up to his mistakes. 

Another episode I mentioned here is the 10th episode from season 3 of the show and here is some context: Todd and BoJack had a confrontation. BoJack was mad that Todd did not want him to become a nominee for the Oscars and then Todd was mad that BoJack slept with Emily (the woman Todd dated). But honestly, I think it was really not the Emily thing that Todd was mad about but rather all the other things BoJack did, like when he sabotaged Todd’s opera, and they all piled up so Todd ended up bursting at that moment. BoJack said “I’m sorry, I screwed up” to which Todd replied with “You can’t keep doing this! You can’t keep doing shitty things and then feel bad about yourself like that makes it okay! You need to be better!” BoJack tried to reason out so Todd followed it up with “You are all the things that are wrong with you. It’s not the alcohol or the drugs or any of the shitty things that happened in your career, or when you were a kid. It’s you” This is another “calling out” that BoJack deserves because he just keeps on doing shitty things and then feels bad about it for himself but does not actually do things to make things right. At some point, as a friend you will just get tired of someone like him. And while there’s an argument about what led to this confrontation with Todd is not something that Todd himself should be mad about, I saw that scene as a way of having Todd as the “representative” of all the other people that BoJack treated badly. In that scene, he was being called out for a lot of things he did not just related specifically to Todd.

So now we start the discussion about my father. Actually every time I typed the words “my father” I felt disgusted. I hate being associated with him. I hate the fact that we share the same DNA. I just hate him. And before the moral police come here and yell “But he is still your father!” please hear me out first. A child will not resent or hate their own parent if the said parent was not horrible. And that’s my main issue. My father was a horrible person to us. Actually an entire year is not enough for me to tell the entire story of how horrible he was and why he’s the reason my mother, my sister and I are all fcked in the head now. He treated us horribly but always gave the reason that he’s older so he knows better. He always used the “parent” card and always used the “I provided you food, I sent you to school….” monologue as a justification to his behavior. He’s the kind of person that should have never become a parent and a husband in the first place. He’s a hurt person and he ended up hurting others too - he hurt us. His decisions in life always end up with the rest of the family suffering the most. He had this mantra that since he had it difficult growing up, his children should also not have it easy in life. The latest shitty thing he did is getting a housing loan that he cannot afford just so he can brag to his mother. And when he experienced a difficult time getting employment, I ended up using my bonuses and even acquired a loan just so we can pay for this house because he promised to pay me back once he gets another contract again (he’s a seaman). But then he never did. He was aware of this. He was aware that employment in his career would wither as he aged but he did not care. He still continued with that loan despite objections from us; hell, that jerk was even mad that we were telling him not to buy a house. And fast forward to today, I have no savings and I have a loan too. You might be wondering where he is? Back in his hometown, chilling. He can even sleep peacefully at night while snoring while me, on the other hand, is more mentally fcked up than ever. As I mentioned earlier, he did a lot of shitty things to us but that housing loan was just the most recent. So the “calling out” scenes from BoJack Horseman were some of my favorites from the show because those are also the things I wanted to tell him. I just wish I had the courage to do so.

My relatives are very much aware of this situation but they always tell me to just forgive him; easy to say when you’re not the one directly affected by his actions. They even have the nerve to give me lectures about how important it is to forgive and it makes me a bad person for treating my father this way. But am I really the wrong one here? He’s not even sorry. For years, he will do shitty things to us. Sometimes he apologizes but sometimes he does not. But in all those scenarios, he’s not sorry. I do not feel any sincerity on his part at all. But why is it that despite the fact that I’m the one who was wronged here, he’s the one who has people on his side while I’m the one being labeled as the bad one? I am conflicted because I cannot forgive. For a long time now, I tried so hard to find it in myself to learn to forgive not just him but also all the other people who wronged me but I really cannot do it. I cannot do it because I’m a tree that remembers every hit of the ax while the ax is living comfortably. Why am I the one who cannot have peace of mind when I’m the victim? I have been struggling with the concept of forgiveness for a long time but those confrontations from BoJack Horseman episodes are somewhat validating because it shows how I’m not the only one who cannot accept apologies. He’s not even genuinely sorry, so why would I extend the olive branch here?

X,

TinaMae

PS, There are a lot of things from BoJack Horseman that I would like to discuss and hopefully I find the time to write about them. The show is good, I highly recommend it!

[kylejsugarman]

what do you see jesse doing for his mental health in alaska, if anything? does he attend therapy? support groups? take meds? if he attends therapy or support groups, how does he navigate the not-super-legal/i-am-a-wanted-criminal aspect of his trauma? would it feel helpful and valuable, even without support specifically catered to those aspects? or does he just avoid it altogether?

honestly i think he'd avoid any kind of mental health care initially. physical medical care would be absolutely necessary, but i dont see jesse seeking mental health support, at least for a while. we've seen that when things are bad, jesse just kind of shuts down and indirectly self harms (s4 jesse was like "alright bye guys im gonna head home and kill myself") and i think he'd continue along that route for a while, especially when he first gets there and has like. nothing to distract him from thinking about Everything and how he may have escaped but that means he has to keep living now and he doesnt know how to do it anymore. he probably slept a Lot, just trying to sleep away the rest of his life until he was able to get out and reintegrate somewhat into society. once he was Alive again, i think he'd seek help for his addiction first since he now has access to drugs again and a strong urge to distract himself and forget everything. we saw that even though his intents were initially kind of shitty, jesse did seem to emotionally benefit in some way from attending those addict support group meetings and i believe that the gently supportive, but not super invasive environment of narcotics anonymous meetings would be helpful, at least with helping him start opening up. the combo of being around people who've had somewhat similar experiences and getting care for his physical health would probably encourage him to figure out if medication would be helpful for his psychological symptoms and it is!! i think i mentioned this in another alaska ask, but sertraline would be a good option for its ability to elevate mood and ease symptoms of depression, anxiety, and ptsd. this may have to be used with a secondary mood stabilizer and maybe some kind of mild sedative for sleep based.

as for like individual therapy, im still on the fence about whether jesse would seek it out because so much of his trauma does tie back into his past and his criminal history. maybe its just because i really discuss the details of stuff in therapy, but it might not be effective and instead make him feel more alone and misunderstood since he can't completely express himself. maybe it would be beneficial for him further down the road when he's more ready to pick apart his thought patterns and experiences after honing his "lying" skills re: his history, but i dont think it would be at the top of his list for a long while.

[pluraladvice]

I'm a negative emotion holder for the system, but I didn't used to be that way. Now I'm miserable and upset all the time, and I can never be out without feeling this way on some level. It's really distressing on a personal level because it wasn't always like this. Nothing seems to catch my interest or distract me for very long. I just want to not feel like shit 24/7. I miss being able to feel positive things that aren't just fakey and/or surface-level. Any advice at all?

-M of @ninetysomethingsouls

I think the best way to go about handling this is treating yourself like someone with depression. Which, essentially, is what this is. You have all these negative emotions and you feel fake in the positive ones, you feel hopeless and helpless. Sound familiar? Sounds like your average depression screening sheet. Which sucks. But don't be hard on yourself, do the things you loved. The emotions you're feeling in the moment? Tell me how they feel in that moment. Not how it feels two hours later looking back on them. How does it feel in the moment when you're laughing with your friends? It's probably not as fake as you think it is. A lot of the time, when someone is stuck in this rut, when they look back on when they were happy, they convince themselves they weren't really happy in that moment, how could they have been? Look at how shitty they feel now! Feeling shitty even 10 minutes later doesn't mean those emotions weren't real and didn't feel good. I suggest the app calm harm for when you're feeling especially bad. It's specifically tailored towards self harm, but we were actually suggested to use it during extreme anger and it really does help give a release or a distraction or just anything at all. Sometimes it is the "try meditating" but it will also have a "go for a run and run as fast as you can for a minute and then rest" or something like that. You have to treat yourself the same way you'd treat anyone going through what you're going through. You aren't different just because you're a headmate and a negative emotion holder, you don't just have to wallow in those negative emotions. You get to work through it just like everyone else. Chances are, the head just decided you were the best equipped to work through it. That sucks and you still deserve to go at this the same way as everyone else.

[kinetic-elaboration]

December 12: Work Shit

Today was such a shitty day. And for the most dumb-fuck reasons too. There was work drama in the morning so incredibly inane I am embarrassed to post about it in a pubic space but the tl;dr of it is that I had no opinions about the thing, but was still the brunt of others’ (an other’s really) annoyance about it. We kept saying ‘it’s not personal’ as we spoke harshly to each but it felt SO personal, and I just couldn’t get over it for pretty much the rest of the day. I am quite sure it wounded me more and affected me for longer than anyone else. I want to be like ‘please don’t do this to me, I am a sensitive flower, I am easily emotionally decimated’ but also like ‘I am not bothered at all (lying), I am strong and fine, I am above this, I am not engaging because there is nothing to engage with.’

Again, there was nothing to engage with. But it just made me feel so shitty. I still feel kind of sad even now, to be honest. I was so bummed out and tired that I took a nap as soon as I got home (after a bus ride sitting in front of someone who was yelling into their phone and kept saying ‘no one can hear me! It’s the bus!’—um? We can all hear you because it’s the bus?). There was probably nothing else for me to do but of course now I am up late because it takes a while to wake up again from a nap, then I am all riled up and easily distracted. So I will go to sleep at a stupid hour again, and also have accomplished nothing with my paltry post-work hours.

Fuck I’m so depressed. This is such a depressing train of thought.

Anyway, yesterday I mentioned at work that I had never seen a single episode of Doctor Who (this is the truth: I think I saw a partial episode on TV, but not even the whole thing) and this shocked my co-worker considerably. She said it was incredibly surprising of me or something of that nature. And I do not know how to take this. I mean, probably what she means is ‘you are known as someone who likes science fiction and is rather nerdy’ and these are true things and also positive reputations to have. But I have literally never given the slightest fuck about Doctor Who lmao. I can’t tell you why, but it obviously doesn’t feel weird to me that I don’t because I never have! Obviously I’ve been in a lot of spaces that are sort of Who-adjacent (fandom, tumblr, nerd-dom, crossover appeal with other stuff I like) but it’s never been tempting or intriguing at all. It’s not on my list.

What I said was just like… a non-answer that sounded like an answer based on my tone of voice. Like, ‘Hmmm, well I’ve seen a partial episode on TV and I’ve seen Torchwood.’ This is all true but does not at all address the surprise or the reasons of my not being interested. I was surprised by her surprise, I don’t have good reasons, and also all I could say would probably read as insulting to Who fans, one of whom was in the room.

I think part of it is, honestly, that my mom isn’t into Doctor Who, and so I did not have anyone getting me into it at a formative time. Not that people can’t get into Who independently and not that I haven’t gotten into things independently but I just… I really think that in this particular instance, if she had been into it, I would have been. My mom being into Torchwood is the reason I watched it (well… 2-ish seasons). She thinks Who is a kids’ show and while it’s probably more a family show, that opinion really influenced my non-desire to watch it.

Another part is that I’m sort of a sci-fi poser in a way. I hate to admit it but it’s true. I love that people think of me as a sci fi fan and I think of myself that way too but I am NOT well read. I’m more like an ST:TOS fan with aspirations to sci fi fandom. This isn’t to say I want to pick up Who (or Dune, the other piece of science fiction I was strangely assumed to be familiar with), but I do want to be more well-read in some classic sci fi literature, as well as be more aware of like modern sci fi stuff. Especially books. There are very few sci fi TV series that interest me. A couple but not a ton.

I also have a weird definition of science fiction which is, it’s science fiction if it FEELS like science fiction to me, personally, the arbiter of all things. Some media are in the sense that they can’t be anything else, I guess, but they don’t feel like science fiction to me and so I’m not interested, which is a weird and irrational and unreasonable thing for me to say, but it’s the middle of the night and I’m sad so there it is.

[obligitory-fma-blog]

FMA was absolutely my first anime. Like I had seen Ghibli films before and some other classics but this was the first series I got obsessed with. May I ask what made you fall in love with it? I can't remember the answer for myself but it remains on my list of formative work. ;___;

First off, I am SO SO SORRY for not answering this for literal months, I was seriously debating my response on this and I finally think I’m ready to answer this one. This is a bit of a rough story, so buckle in. Major TW for mentions of su/c/de, bullying, depressive episodes, and anxiety.

I discovered Fullmetal Alchemist about 3 or so years ago by my best friend and, without any sugarcoating or anything attached, it came at a pretty rough point in my life, at least my life so far.

I was going through the midst of my first breakup, and the awkwardness that came with trying to stay friends with the person afterwards with that big a strain on our relationship. I was at a school I felt isolated and trapped in, and I was also getting bullied and harassed despite begging the administration to do something about it. All this to say, I was looking for any out from my situation, any way to distract myself from the shitty hand I was being delt.

That’s where Fullmetal Alchemist came in. The show captivated my attention, mainly because it was the only thing getting me out of bed at the time. Everyday, I’d wake up at 5:30 to catch the bus, promising myself it’d be better today, and I could watch another few episodes before bed. I’d loose focus in my classes, because it was easier to daydream about being in the action with Ed and Al, following their story, rather than focusing on the pit in my stomach making me want to sob or yell at my bully to say something to me so I could finally get some solid proof to get the administration to do something about it. I’d draw pictures of Mustang, Ed, whoever in the margins of my notes, because it’s all it took for me not to rip them up and throw myself out the window on my worse days.

It might seem crazy or cringe to admit it or whatever, but that show stopped me from contemplating… well, you know what.

I’ve gotten help now. I’m happier than ever, I’m out of the situation I was in, I’m in therapy, and am a hell of a lot better at managing my brain.

But that’s not the only reason Fullmetal meant so much to me.

It’s such a confident, loud show. It has no shame for the topics it covers, and tells them in full truth, no sugarcoating. It made me feel like despite wrong I may or may not have did or will do, I still have the capacity to be a good person. It’s surprisingly really easy to lose sight of that in a depressive episode lasting a whole year. And goddamn, it’s just fun. I love reading/watching Ed and Al’s adventures, no matter what format. There’s a sense of ease knowing no matter what, they have eachother, and the people around them, who know their secret and situation, and can help them.

So TL;DR: bullying does not help make you a better person, you should watch Fullmetal Alchemist if you haven’t, and please for the love of god check up on your friends, you never know what they’re going through.

[tittyinfinity]

adhd meds update

only gripe I have about the new adhd medication so far is that if I'm in too much physical pain to do anything, they make me super antsy and overstimulated because I'll have the will and motivation to do stuff, but can't. it's been cloudy for the past week and my knees have been KILLING me. not only that, but I just ran out of my pain medication until friday and I didn't realize how much the vyvanse makes my upper back hurt like HELL. gotta constantly massage my neck and jaw to make sure I'm not clenching anything.

BUT DESPITE ALL OF THAT, my threshold for "too much pain to do anything" has raised significantly; I can actually push through the pain until it's at like, a 6 or 7, instead of being useless while my pain is at a 3 or 4. I never understood how others could just "push through it." welp, it turns out that my chronic pain was pretty much my biggest distraction! I was hyperfocusing on the pain! and now that I can pay attention to ~other things~ I don't notice the pain until it gets really bad.

I'm in a hell of a lot of pain today, but as I was walking through my doctor's office earlier, I got hit with the sudden realization that I had no problem showing up to the appointment and walking around while in this much pain. usually I'd cancel bc just driving would hurt me too much. granted I do feel better today than I did a couple of days ago when a storm rolled in – I don't think I could have done it on that day. but still.

I did have a couple of days where I cried nearly all day long. But it was a GOOD cry. I felt excitement and motivation for the first time in years and I didn't even realize I had lost the ability to feel those things. feeling those butterflies in my stomach felt like a punch to the gut. I spent a couple of days going over my emotions to figure out which other parts of myself I had been suppressing. still working on that, actually.

I keep thinking about how I told my psychiatrist that I believe that the 6+ different SSRIs that I had tried over the years didn't work because the root cause of my depression was my ADHD. I kept getting into shitty situations because of my forgetfulness, executive dysfunction, and impulsivity. I was constantly missing deadlines, showing up late to places, forgetting about extremely important things, and not thinking before making decisions or reacting to situations. this led me into a never-ending spiral of guilt. I couldn't stop hating myself for how often I screwed shit up. And yeah, I was right. My anxiety has been reduced significantly now that I'm actually being productive instead of sitting around hating myself.

I mean, I'm still dealing with depression. I've been diagnosed with major depressive disorder and complex PTSD, and a few weeks of new medication isn't gonna suddenly undo all of that. not to mention the fact that being poor and disabled is fucking depressing. but I haven't been just sitting there thinking about how sad I am all day long like I was. the biggest thing that's fucking me up right now is the whole realization deal.

I found out the hard way that you should NOT drink coffee before your meds kick in. Especially not 2 cups of coffee. there have been a few days where I drank some coffee forgetting that I had already taken my meds and it fucked me uuuuppp. makes my heart rate spike like crazy and then I can't do anything bc everything becomes too overstimulating to me.

I wasn't expecting the post to be this long or to go on 20 tangents lmao. the adhd can't be completely wiped away. I probably need a higher dose than 20mg to fully help, but I'm not sure if I want a higher dose considering the whole back pain deal. but yeah it feels nice to type out my progress, and typing helps me organize my thoughts instead of having word salad in my brain, so. wee

[nathank77]

12/3/24

5:58 p.m

I did leg day. My back and arms are a little sore but not really from arm day. Maybe I'll be able to do it tomorrow. I'll have to see how i feel.

My day has generally sucked... bo4 was shit. I think I'm going to start playing against bots instead of buying Xbox live. Idc about playing with my friends. They just make me feel more alone and they steal all my kills anyways and make me feel useless. If I play a cod game by myself I'll get 600 kills. If I play with one of my friends I'll get 100 and they'll get 500... I'm the distraction that gets shot at so they can feel awesome. It's never an even split of like 250 kills to 220 or something. Of course they enjoy playing with me I distract all the enemies and they get all the kills while I go down. When if I played by myself I'd get all 500 kills. I'm good but they are just a little bit faster than me so I'm just the distraction.

It makes me feel like shit and like I suck... and bo4 is the only other reason I'd play Xbox live and generally that does not go well... and isn't worth it.

I guess I'm just not going to get it anymore. A Minecraft buddy would be nice but then I got to talk to someone and I'm not joking talking to people who are partnered makes me feel more alone and like depressed. Knowing they have someone to snuggle up against. They have everything I want and I'll never have.

Either way yea my mood is shit. I'm just going to watch TV and masterbate. And yea of course that girl didn't respond cause fucking no one ever does. It's pointless.

My left eye hurts. Idk why. There was a eyelash scratching it but I got that out... it still hurts. I'm worried but I guess I'll kill myself depending on what the problem is. If it resolves cool I'll live this shitty life. If it doesn't I'll end it. It feels more painful than a scratch from an eyelash... like a sharp pain when I blink sometimes. I'm super anxiuos about it.

I'm so sick of Riley. I'm so sick of everything.. I have anxiety about my eye. I don't want to make it to Christmas

I don't see the point. All I want for Christmas is Riley to go away permanently and to find a gf and stop being so utterly alone and finally have a shot at a future... don't get me wrong. I know it won't work out. I know it's just going to be maybe 3 months to a few years before they abandon me but it would be nice to make some good memories.

My eye is really giving me anxiety it hurts when I move it sometimes..idk if it's related to the clorox but it just started today before I showered..

I honestly would rather die than hallucinate like I do and have the level of anxiety I have. And have the family that I have. And the environment i live

I don't want to exist. I said to my mother today everytime I see Riley I'm reminded of exactly how little I matter to you and how you should have gotten an abortion or i just wish I wasn't the fastest swimmer.

And I made an off hand remark to my mother, "yea i just get to watch another dog die."

I really wasn't ready for another dog but no one cared about that and Riley is miserable. But imma just live in my barricaded room and pretend i matter to anyone but myself.

I guess the only good thing about my circadian rhythm paired with new years specifically cause obv my circadian rhythm is a super positive thing I'm very proud of it... but being that I'm going to bed at 9 p.m every night even new years at least I don't have to expect them to put Riley in the crate for it bc they wouldn't have. They would have left me out and let her stay out of the crate. Instead if I'm still here if I don't take that trip. I'll just hear everyone scream happy new years and blow stupid fucking horns and shit like assholes.

But we all know even if I said fuck my circadian rhythm that night they'd force me to stay in my room bc they wouldn't lock Riley up bc i don't matter to them. Riley is a constant reminder that I don't mean anything to my family.

I can't wait until I finally give up. I feel stupid holding on..I think if I give up then I'll never know what happens with Elise but let's be real it won't be what I want. She may never show up.

I keep thinking if I give up I'll never see what life has planned for me, and then I go oh wait permanent loneliness. Never being married. Never having kids. And once my siblings hit a certian age well I'll be nothing to them. So yes that's what life has in store for me.

Of course i think once I do it there is no going back.. which is the only thing stopping me.. but tbh I don't think it's going to stop me for much longer.

[emotionallyrin]

im not doing better

this post is kinda an update, it's a proof that i'm still thinking about this platform and in full a talk about what i've been doing and how i'm still alive. showing how i'm still needing help and unable to get it.

may, for 3 weeks straight i couldn't think and had to purely spend all my focus on college. my brain was a mess, i was tired and it was normal. college students were expected to have a heavy workload so it wasn't like my struggling was abnormal and needed help. it just didn't help with my depression.

mostly these 3 weeks kinda acted as some form of therapy, i got my mind of what shitty thoughts i had and onto something else. it was stressful but it removed the thoughts i had for a brief period; also i leaned more into my kpop addiction during this time and it really helped me feel happy.

i finished those 3 weeks, took a short break and cleaned my room. felt that things were good for once. the title lied, i'm doing somewhat better but it's like the world hates me. in the last few days alone its been trying to bring up everything to make me hate myself.

old pictures of a friend i lost, pictures i thought i deleted coming back to haunt me and remind me of the grief i felt over that time. they're not dead, they just betrayed me heavily. it hurt. seeing them again made me feel dragged down, like a void was pulling me back to my roots and i was unable to escape. just as i thought i reached happiness- it ended with me getting so blinded by rage i hurt my hand and laid empty for a while.

throughout the month, although i was distracted a lot, i did write a few draft vents. things i needed to get out but never could at the time because time constraints i had or the inability to draw strength to write what i wanted, now i have the time and lack of care. half way through my pit of hell i thought of my ex again, and it hurt for a while. seems cliche and annoying, brooding over my ex, and it was. it hurt though.

on the positive, since that day i haven't felt all too bad about my ex. not as bad as i used to at least, being fully detached for 2 straight months has helped. april felt like the last month i had to deal with torture around that issue. in general, that month was mostly me alone. it was peaceful and a grind, i felt dead mostly. telling myself to meet the deadline on repeat like i was about to collapse. my brain felt numb, my headaches were loud, my brain almost split.

this past week of rest, has been amazing. i had a few days feeling like i was truly happy for once, thinking why do i need to be guilty that i'm over depression. then things slowly tumbled over and over. the nightmares started again; an old friend who died 2 years ago slowly pops into my dreams. i hate it. it's why i go to see his grave, like i'm paying respects to show i still remember so memories don't hurt me.

we weren't all too close but i'm sentimental i guess- apparently funerals does something to me. it's like my phobia with blood; i wasn't scared before i saw it but then it's now one of the only things i'm scared of.

my birthday is on wednesday. i have a headache, it really hurts. i feel like i'm going to cry alone that day or do something i regret. a friend i have, a lot closer than the other one, had his brother die recently. so recent actually he's not showing up to classes anymore. i didn't know his brother all too well but i'm going to the funeral for him- i'm very empathetic so i don't know how it will go. the funeral is on my birthday. i think i'm going to breakdown and cry.