#god I'm so tired physically and emotionally

[pirefyrelight]

Rant about work today below cut

so today was fun (<- lying so hard you can see the sarcasm) I first came in to work at 2 because that's my usual shift and I just didn't check the schedule beyond whether I work or not a few days ago. Turns out I was supposed to be in at 4 to close and the way the sous chef informed me of this kinda soured my mood right out the gate. He didn't call me an idiot for not checking my schedule outright, but I could hear it in his voice.

Whatever, I'll brush it off. There's a coffeeshop with good breakfast sandwiches like two blocks away I'll hang out there for a few hours.

Well turns out they close at 3 in the winter and I didn't know they weren't open until 4. So even though I left immediately and the employee was nice and polite about it, I felt like the asshole customer who was trying to stay after closing. So just another bad emotion to throw in the mix.

So I headed back and sat in the back hallway of work on my phone off the clock since sous was already mad I was here early (for some reason- it's a busy week it's not like I'd be standing around and if I'm already here anyway who gives a shit)

And of course being at work and trying to relax is not compatible. People are talking and coworkers I don't vibe with are hanging out and getting on my nerves for just existing so I put both earbuds in to drown it all out as I scroll tumblr and that mostly works until-

I get the distinct impression that the last thing that was said was to me. I look up and it's the head chef looking at me. I take my music out and ask him to say again. He tells me "you know you can clock in and get to work right"

It was still like 15 minutes to 4. I was planning on clocking in 5 minutes to. Because the aforementioned sous being mad at me for being early. I didn't feel like explaining that and I already don't like chef and didnt want him to think i was arguing so I just agreed that yes I can get to work and did. It still grated on me and getting contradictory orders that make me feel like I can never do anything right is pretty high on my pet peeve list so even though I pushed it down it really set me off inside.

So you know. Before the apron's on I'm pissed.

Did I mention I was off work yesterday? I was off work yesterday. You know what having a day off work does to my station, my lovely neat and organized station that I do everything in my power to keep that way so I can survive my fucking job?

It makes it look like a hurricanes been through there.

If bottles aren't greasy or missing, door handles are sticky, dessert cooler is packed with mess that should be in the offline cooler, plate stacks are missing, and of course I should note we are running both a featured salad and dessert that I would consider me not having space for therefore making an extra layer of clutter I can't actually get rid of.

Oh did I mention we technically open at 3? I have to deal with tickets as I organize all this shit, and mentally I can't look at the probably poorly marked preplist before counters and line coolers have some semblance of organisation.

Theres an adage the previous chef would say, "messy station messy mind," and he was so right.

If only there was a solution. If only I had more time to get set up and get certain sauces and dressings at room temp where they can actually come out the bottle. If only there was some magical way to preserve my sanity and actually get my job done smoothly. But I guess some things are just meant to stay in the realm of impossibility.

And of course because I wasn't working yesterday and the opening was chaos, I didn't notice we were already on the backups that were panned up for beets and arugula for the featured salad. Everything is prepped, but I need it brought to station.

I tell my second as she's pulling the empty pan, "hey can you get four more of these flat bottomed [6th] pans and both types of beets please?" I even pointed at the pan. I meant for her to bring them up and I actually pan them up so I can make sure they're labeled and filled to the top and the backups are wrapped properly and everything but she takes awhile to do that (and she's not the kind to talk to every single person on her way to and back from the cooler like another second on my station) so she's probably panning them on prepline and that's fine, ok?

I didn't Specifically say to bring empty pans up to let me do it, and she's trying to do her job I'm not mad ok. As long as it gets done. Despite what the rest of this post tells you I am not so much of a control freak I cannot recognize that.

Heres the thing. She didn't pan up backups. She did one pan of each type of beet, and one was in a round bottom pan. (This matters slightly in the fact that 1. Flat bottoms hold more volume and 2. They're more stable standing upright on flat surfaces, like on a makeshift cooler made out of a hotel pan over ice that I don't know is entirely health code complient but that's not important here)

Point is it wouldn't Really matter if I didn't specifically tell her to get flat pans and I know there's flat pans back there. It also wouldn't Really matter if I didn't tell her to get 4. What did she think the other two were for? I asked here where the backups were and she was confused so I explained I wanted two of each, and she went to get those.

Do more at one time and you have to do it less often. I don't know how this is so hard to explain or understand. If there were backups already in the line cooler this wouldn't be any issue at all but here we are.

So I finished my wave of tickets and got the arugula myself. Did I mention the distant whistling the whole time? There was distant whistling throughout this entire encounter. Do I need to explain why that didn't help anything at all?

And then there's the servers who just expect me to be able to read their minds instead of what they actually type onto the tickets. "Birthday" ≠ "birthday plate" (birthday desserts get discounted, and some anniversary or birthday people get a big plate denoting the celebration written in chocolate at the top. Idk if this special treatment costs extra or what) and you would think one of the servers that have been working here longer than I have would know that by now.

I want it to be noted that mistakes are understandable but still, having to replate something in the middle of a rush because of a server's mistake has never improved my mood even once. Did the time you save by not typing those 5 letters surpass the time taken by me redoing it for you?

Im so tired. I know I'm bossy and controlling, but I do make a very conscious effort to understand that each thing here isn't something to be mad about. Everyone makes mistakes, and my standards for organization are matched by very few people. I do try so very hard to let all non essential things go, but holy fucking shit it adds up so quickly.

But you know what? There's upside at the end of all this.

I get to go immediately to bed and do it all again tomorrow.

[elizabethplaid]

Hey, I'm not really religious, but this reminds me of when people will speak to their god(s). Usually, it'd be like "God, why do you put me through these challenges?" But it can also be, "I hope you are entertained by my folly," sort of just knowing that someone's "watching over us".

Somewhat similar, we joke about the personally-assigned FBI agent to watch over our internet activities. But, in a way, that's also like a guardian angel. Just because they watch doesn't mean they take any/much action in response.

I've played The Sims franchise for 20+ years, so I'm kinda chill with the absurdity of someone "watching over us", potentially just for laughs. I was always weirded out as a kid of the thought of god or dead relatives "watching from heaven". Like, even when you're in the shower? That's gross.

To have the modern equivalent be that someone's watching and commenting (still alive, too), it's a frog-boil analogy. I'm sure there's potential for incorporating kay-fabe into the interpretation, too. I'm just like, "Hey, if you wanted me to to be scared of this now, then you shouldn't have told me 30-years-ago this was already happening."

[madlittlecriminal]

Miguel o'hara with a breeding kin AND a size kink (or lack of because I'm short as hell). That's it, that's the ask.

Anniversary ⥓ Miguel O'Hara × Female!Reader

im so sorry this is late, love :( with the series & life getting in the way along with writer's block, i took a break. however, im back & since it's October, it's smut month! im doing it again, so i'll only be releasing smut this month

Warnings: smut, unprotected piv, size kink, breeding kink, pull out method, reader and miguel are married, pnp, also for the girlies with the long nails, my writing is inclusive, so sincerely apologize (my nails are usually short since i pick at them), aftercare

If there was one thing Miguel loved about having you under him was the noticeable height difference between the two of you. He loved picking you up to kiss you or having you wrapped around his waist just to have you face to face with him.

But God, he loved when you moaned so loud, as he had your legs over his shoulders while his dick reached deep inside you.

"Te ves tan bella así, mi amor," he muttered as he thrusts into you, his eyes locking onto yours.

You simply moaned in response, your fingers digging into his biceps.

Miguel groaned as he felt you clenched around him. You were reaching your climax again, that he couldn't help but smirk. He was the only man that could do this to you, but that's what made him want to keep you for the rest of his life; you had many firsts with him, he was determined to be the last. Did you care? No.

No man has ever made you feel the way Miguel has emotionally, mentally and physically.

Two years of dating turned into a year of engagement to now, officially being married for a year as it was your first anniversary together as husband and wife.

Long story short, when he said he'd never get tired of you, he meant it because he was still very much obsessed with the way your body responded to him no matter how many times he's touched it. He still feels as though you react differently to things, making him know that he still had a lot more exploring to do.

After all, he was now getting to know your body better than you did.

Not to mention the new positions he had you in.

He flipped you over so you were on your stomach before making sure your legs were at his hips. He took his hand and wrapped it around your neck as he lifted you up; his own version of the Superman position.

Miguel slid back in, causing you to roll your eyes back while his hand rested on your wrist to hold you in place.

Probably the best part about being with a man with superhuman strength; if you had core strength or not, he could carry you with ease.

To say you were stunned by the new position was an understatement. However, when he moved his hips, your stunned expression vanished as your mouth fell open, letting a silent moan escape your throat. Your brows furrowed in pleasure as his cock angled just right, hitting your sweet spot.

Christ, this man, was going to be the death of you.

It didn't help that Miguel felt himself growing closer to his release as he fucked you.

He couldn't help it, with the way you were sucking him in with each thrust and the way your pussy fluttered around him. To him, it felt like paradise.

"I'm gonna fill you up, baby," he muttered against your ear.

You nodded, unable to trust your words as you felt him put you on the bed again, flipping you over.

He held himself as he watched you come undone once more as he pounded into you.

Miguel groaned at the sight of your pleasure, pride hitting him instantly in knowing he'll be the only man who could ever see you like this till death do you part.

He pulled out of you before wrapping his hand around his length. He moved his hand up and down before letting himself decorate your stomach in his cum, a moan escaping his lips as he did so.

Miguel grabbed the pack of wipes from the side table, cleaning you off before his release traveled further down before throwing it out. He grabbed a new wipe and cleaned himself off with a shiver before tossing it too.

He grabbed the blanket and wrapped you both under it before pulling you close, peppering your head with kisses.

The last thing he cared about was that you two were naked, as you both have cuddled naked before. The only thing he cared about was making sure his wife was comfortable as she cuddled in his chest.

"I love you and happy anniversary," he whispered against your head.

"I love you too and happy anniversary," you whispered back with a smile.

[svt-luna]

· ˚ ༘ * GROUP SHIPS ᥫ᭡. ⋆

synopsis: Luna’s most well known ships within the group— aka. ‘the most famous love trinagle in k-pop history.’

╰ ౨ৎ LUNA-VERSE MASTERLIST

˓ ౨ৎ ࣪˖ JEONGHAN & LUNA ─── ‘JEONGNA’

﹟POPULARITY ‣ 101%

﹟THEIR SONGS ‣ Moonlight by Ariana Grande ── “He's so bossy, he makes me dance. Tryna sit in the back of his whip and just cancel my plans. Sweet like candy but he's such a man. He knows just what it does when he's holding me tight and he calls me ‘Moonlight’ too.”

‣ Everytime by Ariana Grande ── “You get high and call on the regular, I get weak and fall like a teenager. Why, oh, why does God keep bringing me back to you? I get drunk, pretend that I'm over it. Self-destruct, show up like an idiot. Why, oh, why does God keep bringing me back to you?”

‣ Reflections by The Neighborhood ── “We were too close to the stars. I never knew somebody like you, somebody. Falling just as hard, I'd rather lose somebody than use somebody. Maybe it's a blessing in disguise. I see my reflection in your eyes.”

﹟NICKNAMES ‣ Jeonghan = “Hannie oppa~”

‣ Luna = “Nana-ya~”

﹟JEONGNA THINGS ‣ Silently gazing at each other from across the room, cuddles galore, simmering tension, unabashedly flirting with each other ❨they don’t stop until one gets flustered or until someone stops them.❩, late night talks, back hugs, cuteness aggression sounds, matching jewelry, lego addicts, interlocking of pinkies, praises, braiding each other’s hair, playing with each other’s fingers when anxious, singing to each other.

﹟FACTS ‣ Luna has had the biggest crush on Jeonghan ever since she laid eyes on him for the first time and she still does because the Jeonghan she met for the first time is still the Jeonghan now, he never changed physically or mentally.

‣ Sometime around May of 2017 during their promotions for their 4th mini album ‘Al1’, Luna drunkenly confessed to Jeonghan when the two of them were having one of their late-night talks. Unfortunately for Luna, she wasn’t drunk enough to forget about what happened and neither was Jeonghan.

‣ After Luna’s constant avoidance for a couple of days, Jeonghan managed to corner her, finding time in their busy schedules to talk. On that very same day, Jeonghan being the second oldest to the group and the vice-leader took it upon himself to put the team first— he politely rejected Luna stating that the well-being of the team goes first and that it would be unprofessional of them to engage in anything.

‣ Did Luna agree? Yes, she did. She did agree that it would be selfish of her to put the group at risk especially when they were achieving their goals left and right. Did Luna handle the rejection well? Yes, she did. She did handle it well, in fact, she even laughed in Jeonghan’s face when he cornered her and brought it up, brushing off the lingering pain that pierced her chest, she told him that “it’s fine.” that “I was drunk and being stupid.” and her personal favorite “It’s a little crush, it’ll go away soon.” Was Luna hurt? Physically? No. Mentally? She was tired. Emotionally? She wanted to claw her heart out and swallow it whole.

‣ “It’s a little crush, it’ll go away soon.” Her own words mock her every time she remembers because in all honesty… her feelings never went away, in fact, she fell harder and she hated herself for it.

‣ Life went on and it was as if nothing had changed. Ever since that rejection, there was no awkwardness, no bad blood or anything. Luna never avoided Jeonghan because according to her logic, ignoring him would be enough to indicate that she was in fact hurt and she was in fact not okay. So, Luna acted like nothing ever happened. She did not treat Jeonghan differently and their dynamic did not change. Luna buried her feelings deep down in her chest, locked it, and threw away the key as far as possible…

‣ Yet, the key landed straight into Jeonghan’s hands. Because a year after that, on a random Friday afternoon on the set of the music video for their new song ‘THANKS’— Jeonghan found himself staring holes into Luna’s face as she spoke to the camera in front of her animatedly. He would be lying if he said he hasn’t stopped thinking of Luna’s confession… because he hasn’t stopped thinking about it since then. Jeonghan was initially worried that Luna would look at him differently or treat him differently or maybe ignore him altogether after he rejected her but strangely, Luna never acted differently. He’d also be lying if he said that he didn’t think she looked beautiful today… yesterday… and most definitely tomorrow…

‣ Jeonghan is a smart man. It didn’t take him long to have reality slap him in the face. After staring at Luna talk to the camera for God knows how long like a creep, it struck him like lightning. His clammy hands that were fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, his legs bouncing up and down, the sudden racing of his heart, and the smile that was creeping on his face… Yoon Jeonghan likes Bae Jiyeon. It was either that or he was going into cardiac arrest and he knows for a fact that heart failure symptoms don’t include the desire to ask someone out on a date.

‣ Jeonghan has the key to Luna’s heart yet, her heart remains locked away and hidden for no one to see or touch. And that is where it began— the chase. Jeonghan enjoys a challenge and he would do anything in his power to get what he wants. While Luna… she’s petty… the pettiest. She can see right through Jeonghan the most out of all of them. She knows how hard he’s trying but why not have a little fun with it and have him work for it?

˓ ౨ৎ ࣪˖ MINGYU & LUNA ─── ‘MINGNA’

﹟POPULARITY ‣ 95%

﹟THEIR SONGS ‣ Friends by Chase Atlantic ── “And what the hell were we? Tell me we weren't just friends, this doesn't make much sense, no. But I'm not hurt, I'm tense, 'Cause I'll be fine without you babe.”

‣ I Wanna be Yours by Arctic Monkeys ── “Secrets I have held in my heart are harder to hide than I thought. Maybe I just wanna be yours, I wanna be yours, I wanna be yours.”

‣ I Can See You by Taylor Swift ── “And we kept everything professional but something's changed, it's somethin' I, I like they keep watchful eyes on us, so it's best that we move fast and keep quiet. You won't believe half the things I see inside my head. Wait 'til you see half the things that haven't happened yet.”

﹟NICKNAMES ‣ Mingyu = “Gyu-gyu~”

‣ Luna = “Lulu-ya~”

﹟MINGNA THINGS ‣ Acts of service, cheek pecks, each other’s photographer, flirting ❨mostly Luna cause she likes seeing Mingyu fold so easily.❩, giggling at the stupidest things, fashion gurus, dedicating playlists for each other, matching hoodies, winking, piggyback rides, cooking together.

﹟FACTS ‣ ‘Great minds think alike’ they say. So naturally, just like Luna, Mingyu just had to have a crush on a member as well… and that member happened to be the ‘great mind’ herself. Mingyu had the biggest crush on Luna upon first meeting her. She was older than him and she was the most beautiful girl he had laid his eyes on… she still is.

‣ Nobody knew of Mingyu’s feelings for the female member but himself and maybe even his sister but that was it. He kept it a secret until 2020.

‣ During their Going Seventeen filming, a new segment was introduced— ‘Insomnia Zero’ where the members take on the challenge of trying to fall asleep, or at least maintain a stable heart rate while lying down, within three minutes for three rounds. While a member tries to sleep, the rest shall try distracting by teasing. In each round, three members with the most stable heart rate can go home while losers proceed to the next round and repeat the challenge. Seems easy enough… until it wasn't.

‣ It was Luna’s turn to sleep and the rest of the members took turns trying to distract her but they mostly had a difficult time doing so— they then continued to complain about how she had thick skin and it was not easy to get a rise out of her. Well, not until Minguy decided to open his mouth.

‣ It took one sentence to send her heart rate spiraling— “Noona, do you know I have a crush on you?” Luna remained composed on the outside; she was still as a rock, her clammy hands folded on top of her stomach, her eyes closed, and her expression not showing a hint of disturbance. However, on the inside, she was going insane; her heart rate was seen by all on the monitor as it went higher and higher. The shrieks and the teasing remarks by the guys were not helping either.

‣ Honestly, Luna never saw Mingyu in a romantic way. Sure she thought he was attractive but that was it. The reason her heart was beating so fast was that after knowing Mingyu for years, she could tell when he was lying or joking… and even without looking at him and simply listening, his tone gave it away… he was telling the truth— Luna knew that and so did the rest of the members.

‣ And once her time was up, Luna opened her eyes and playfully glared at the men to her right— “Ya! Kim Mingyu stop lying! People will get the wrong idea!” she joked, pretending to brush it off for the sake of the show and the fans.

‣ After that, they simply continued with the game, however, when the episode was released, fans noticed a few things: first, was how serious Mingyu looked when confessing. Second, was the shocked look on the other members’ faces as they stared at Mingyu, and lastly, was how Jeonghan was sitting quietly at the end of the line as he stared ❨glared❩ at Mingyu.

‣ Mingyu and Luna didn't talk about it afterward. Everything was back to normal except for the fact that Mingyu wasn't afraid to show his affection towards her anymore… and neither was Jeonghan.

‣ And that ladies and gentlemen is how the ‘the most famous love triangle in K-pop history’ was made. The love triangle dynamic between the three went on for years and hardcore fans of each couple would root for their favorite ship— meticulously gathering evidence and watching their every move to see who would win.

ೃ⁀➷ comment or message me to be added to the tag list :)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ SUBMIT A REQUEST AND ASK ME ANYTHING!

: ̗̀➛ requests are always open ♡ - lunaఌ

Taglist: @yeoberryx @minminghao @angie-x3

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

End Game 4

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, stalking, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your gaming buddy asks to meet up but it doesn’t go exactly as planned.

Characters: Andy Barber

Note: I'm a sleepy babay.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

There’s a finality to the tap of your thumb. You hold the block button for a moment before you let it go. The window pops up asking if you’re sure. Yes. Certain. This is just a mistake and when you’re older and wiser, you’ll be thankful you made it. If you even remember it. 

You lay back and put your phone down. Done. Over. No more Jacob. No Andy.  

Maybe you’ll go back and see Kara again, or she can come here, even if she hates this town. You can at least be thankful that it reconnected you two, and you have to be grateful to learn a hard lesson. Don’t mess with strangers online. You’re better off alone. 

You close your eyes. You’re exhausted. Mentally, emotionally, and yes, physically. Who knew scooping ice cream could be so much work? 

When you wake up, you’re sore and still groggy. The sun peers in at you brightly in the slat between the curtains. You groan and hide under the pillow. Your shift starts at noon. You can’t spend all morning doing nothing or the whole day is wasted. 

You drag yourself out of bed. Your grandma is still asleep. You’re sure she was up until dawn with her latest haul from the used book store. You clean up the cluster of wrappers around her chair and tidy up the kitchen, dumping the old coffee and brewing a new pot. 

You go to grab your phone and pause as you see an unusual notification. Your email? Huh. You don’t really use that besides for school. You open it up, thinking it might be about enrolment. No. It’s him. Andy. Holy moly. 

You scroll up and down, skimming the blocks of text. Oh god. You hit delete. You’re not reading all that. You said what needed to be said. 

You have your coffee and load the machine for whenever your mother gets out of bed. You eat and wash up, catching up on some Youtube before you make yourself get your uniform on. You head out, walking to work to enjoy the sunshine, and key in between tying on your apron and chatting with Gavin, the high schooler who does half-shifts every now and then.  

He leaves at four and you have your complimentary cone just after five. Peanut butter chocolate; classic. You eat at the window as you watch the mostly empty street. Your phone vibrates and you slide it out, hoping to take advantage of the lull. 

WhatsApp request? No way. The shammy recruiters always want a piece of you. At least you never fell for that. 

You bite into the cone and your phone suddenly blows up with Insta notifications. Bots! Ugh. So annoying. Every new follower is faceless with some generated name. You mute the notifications and put your cell away. You really are a boring person. 

As you look up, tires crush over a patch of gravel and your barely catch a glimpse of the car as it rolls just around the corner. You feel like you’ve missed something. Maybe your grandma is right about you always having your nose buried in a screen. Who is she to talk? She lives in her novels. 

Your shift ends at eight. You lock up and stop by the convenience store down the block. Nothing special, just a tray of carbonara you can shove in the nuke. As you pay at the counter, the door chimes to signal another customer. You accept your meagre meal as the other patron strides into the aisle. You don’t look over as you go directly for the door. You’re starving for more than a scoop. 

Your footsteps seem to echo through the dull streets. The frozen meal makes your hand hurt as your other holds your cell phone close. You text Kara as you finally get through the essay she wrote about Calvin’s latest antics. You wish you could convince her to play something. You feel aimless without an analog stick under your thumb. 

There’s a scuff, close behind you, loud enough to make you jump. You fumble with your phone and glance over your shoulder. You don’t see anything but the thick oak outside Luella’s. Ugh. Alright, you need to eat and lay down. It hasn’t been a busy day but still a long one. 

You pass through your grandma’s front door. She’s where she always is, in her chair, but something’s off. Something’s different. The smell of pollen hangs in the air and a pot stands on the coffee table with several white orchids tall in the soil. You frown. The last time you got her flowers, she didn’t even put them in a vase. 

“Oh, those are pretty,” you say. 

“Mph, not mine,” she grumbles, not looking up. 

“Not... who’s...” 

“Delivery man said your name. I didn’t read the card. I’m not a snoop.” 

You nod, thankful at least that she isn’t nosy. You go to the table and examine the pot. Who would send you flowers? 

You take the card off the tall pronged stick and open the envelope. You slide out the paper and unfold it. 

‘I know I’ve told you a million times, so I’ll show you how sorry I am instead. Yours always, Andy.’ 

You nearly drop your handful. Your eyes flick up to the pot and you have to stop yourself from pushing it off the table. What the hell? How... how does he know where you live? You never even mentioned what town you’re from. He only knows your college and it’s so small, he wouldn’t have heard of it. 

It’s enough to unsettle you. That he knows where you live is bad enough but the flowers themselves make a point. It’s not over. He’s not walking away but what else can you say to make him? Didn’t he get it? You think were pretty nice considering. 

“You got some boy?” Your grandma raises her eyes from the page. You can’t remember the last time she even bothered looking at you. 

“Not exactly,” you tuck the card away and put it in your pocket. “I’m going to make my dinner.” 

“Eh,” she grumbles, “fine. Get them flowers somewhere else. They stink.” 

You lift the vase, hugging it around the pot, and carry it from the room. You balance it against your hip and go into the kitchen. You use your free hand to pull open the freezer and put the pasta inside. You’re not so hungry anymore. 

🎮

The irises are pretty. The pot they came in is fancy, probably expensive. It underlines once more the gap between you and the real Jacob. Between you and Andy.

It only reminds you of how ridiculous you must have sounded. So, you just can’t understand why he’s doing this? Why is he still trying? For you? A girl with dwindling hopes of even finishing her low-tier college degree. 

You try to forget. You don’t have a shift that day but you can’t just sit around. Usually, you would. You’d hole up in your bedroom and play video games. Not anymore. He ruined that. You’re disappointed you’re letting him. 

You got down to the library for a while and wander around. There’s nothing there you’re very interested in. They still haven’t got the latest release in the series you’d read in high school. Oh well, you’ll wait around until one day you learn the fate of those revolutionary spies. 

You walk the main strip of the town. It isn’t very extensive. There’s a coffee shop and the used bookstore which also carries hobby supplies. There’s the same diner that’s been there since you were a kid and the interchangeable business that open and close year after year. 

There’s a vibe in your pocket. It’s not Kara. Another WhatsApp request, more Insta bots, and Discord. You haven’t been on the server in ages. You couldn’t keep up with all the channels and most of it was arguing about mining strategies. 

It’s Andy. Frig. You should’ve blocked him there too. You just hadn’t thought of it. 

‘Did you like the flowers?’ 

You don’t answer but he’ll see that you read it. It isn’t long before he’s typing. 

‘I am still very sorry. I wish you’d talk to me. Hear me out.’ 

Hear him out? He said everything. His son is dead and he lied to you. That’s not anything you can hash out. 

‘I know you’re not working today. I’ll make a new world and we can chat there.’ 

No. That’s not going to happen. Over. O-V-E-R. It’s done. You’re not going to be like Kara. When you cut the cord, it’s snipped. 

You won’t answer. That’s just bait. He’ll keep nibbling if you do that. You press the chat settings and block. That’s better, you can’t breathe. 

You put your phone on silent and back in your pocket. You wish you had the money to try the sushi place. It won’t last long in the bodunk town so you probably won’t ever get to. Oh well. Back on campus, they sell decent California rolls at the cafeteria. Decent, not necessarily good. 

You go home. To your grandma’s house. It doesn’t always feel like home. You know she’s counting the days until you leave. You are too. 

You wish you were brave enough to apologise. To say sorry your mom and dad didn’t want you. That she got stuck with you. It feels like saying it out loud would be worse. Just wallow in the unspoken resent, one day you won’t ever come back and maybe then you can both be happy. 

In your room, you don’t know what to do with yourself. Your Switch taunts you from across the room. You want to mine or race or even scare yourself with some Hellblade. You can’t. More Youtube. More wasted time. That’s what people like you do; people from small towns with no one who loves them and no money; waste time. 

The mindless videos help you relax but not forget. You just can’t get rid of the little tickle at the back of your head. There’s a tinge of shame that remains and a sliver of guilt. It will go. It has to, one day. 

You catch yourself staring at the orchid. You can smell it. You want to throw it away but that feels rude. Even if Andy would never know, even if you shouldn’t care. He hurt you, didn’t he? He lied. Well, you could give it to Mahalia next door, she loves flowers. 

You lay in indecision. You don’t want to do anything but lay there. Now that you’re still, you have no strength. Your day off is chipped away in your laziness.  

The next day awaits you with another shift at the booth. And the day after and the day after. 

Your fourth day in a row and you get a new Discord message. You know even before you open it, even by the blank avatar and nondescript username. It’s him. Just leave me alone. Let it go. Let me forget. 

‘I know you don’t want to hear from me but I need you to hear me. I can’t stop thinking of you and what happened. I can do better. Please, let me apologise.’ 

Blocked. Again.

Work. Again.  

You’re half asleep as you fill cones with soft serve. You smile and swallow yawns, faking it for the hyper children and cheerful couples. 

When it slows, you work on cleaning the freezer, switching out empty containers with ones from the deep freeze. As you check the soft serve, there’s a tap on the open walk-up window. Oh shoot. You should’ve been paying better attention. 

You turn back to greet the next customer but as you approach the window, your chest deflates. Frozen, like the tubs around you. You stare at Andy as he smiles at you. He wears a short-sleeve button up with blue, grey, and white stripes. His hair blows in the soft breeze. 

“Do you have butterscotch ripple?” He asks brightly. 

You blink and hesitate. You don’t know what to do. How did he get here? How did he find you? Why is he here? 

You reach for the window and before he can stop you, you shut it. You lock it from the inside and step back. His face falls and his brow arches as he stands straight. He says your name, his voice muffled by the glass, and puts his palm to the barrier. 

“Please,” he begs. 

You shake your head and turn your back to him. If your manager was here, you’d be in shit. That’s a no-no. Never turn away a customer, only shut the window when you lock up. 

You ignore him and go back to tidying. There could be a line up out there but you don’t care. Your hands are shaking and it’s not just the temperature.

You just can’t believe he’s there. You can’t believe he won’t just give up. You don’t want to believe it because you’re afraid. You’re terrified and he seems entirely clueless about how scary he’s being. 

Flowers are one thing but showing up at your job? That’s a flaming red flag that even you can see. Not only because you told him plainly that you don’t want to talk to him again, but because he’s a grown man. Fortysomething and he can’t take a hint. Why would a man his age want to talk to someone as young as you? That’s another red flag on its own. As if catfishing you wasn’t enough. 

[authorred]

Power Struggle | Sylus x gn!reader | Love and Deepspace | Part 1

➺ Preface: Having fallen into the hands of the leader of Onychinus himself, it's obvious he enjoys watching you squirm and try to run from him. He has the power to make you yield, to make you stay. But little does he know; you have the same power; you just don't use it nearly as often. How will he react when you grow tired of being his plaything?

➺ PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE I NEED THIS MAN CARNALLY, RELIGIOUSLY, BIOLOGICALLY, INNATELY, INHERENTLY, GENEOLOGICALLY, MENTALLY, PHYSICALLY, EMOTIONALLY, I NEED HIM TO DESTROY ME I NEED HIM TO RUIN MY LIFE, MY HOUSE, MY JOB, MY POSSESSIONS, MY PUS--

I'm so sorry Zayne I love you pookie pls forgive me but FUCK!

➺ Part 2 (coming soon)

Warning(s): None

Your eye twitches when you see the familiar red gleam of Mephisto’s eyes. No matter where you go in the N109 Zone, that crow is always following you. Why Sylus feels the need to keep an eye on you 24/7, you have no idea. It’s not like you’re doing anything. Perhaps it’s a security thing. To make him feel better. Either way, you’re hyperaware of the influence he has on the entire zone. Just his name alone is enough to spark conversations—good or bad.

You walk up to Mephisto and stare at him. “Are you going to follow me everywhere I go as long as it’s in the N109 Zone?” You ask.

Mephisto caws and tilts his head, his beak clacking together. Almost as if he’s saying ‘yes’. You give him a flat look before sighing. “Guess you can’t help it. You’re stuck with Sylus too, huh?”

~ When you enter Sylus’s base (or whatever it is, you never bothered to ask) Mephisto flies through the open door and past you. You assume he’s going to find his owner. You sigh and shut the door behind you, walking deeper into the foyer. It was typical of Sylus to be rather secluded—you don’t ever recall a time where he greeted you. Not that you expect it, per se.

With Sylus doing God knows what, and you not having to do anything, you decide to entertain yourself. Trotting off, you head to Sylus’ boxing ring. The last time you went there, your ‘lesson’ with Sylus happened, and though informative (you supposed) it wasn’t anything you didn’t know. Sometimes you graced him with the ability to feed his superiority complex. You walk over to a locker and open it, grabbing some red hand wraps. Having done this so many times before, you quickly wrap the cloth around and between your knuckles and fingers. When they're secure and you get everything else ready, you step into the ring and start lightly jogging in place to get your blood up. You hop over to the punching bag and wait a moment before beginning to lay out into it.

Your punches connect cleanly, the impacts crisp and strong. The punching bag swings from where it's hung from the ceiling via chain. You can feel the burn in your muscles begin to grow after several minutes of punching, and you take intermittent breaks to work out until failure. About twenty minutes into your workout, you pause your actions when you sense an intense, heavy gaze on you.

"Well?" You call out, sliding your gaze to him. "Are you impressed?" Your tone is slightly sardonic. It's not like Sylus to just give compliments with no backhanded comment to boot.

"You applied what I taught you," he replies in his usual baritone, melodious voice. "It seems you're not the little kitty I think of you as."

You roll your eyes and take a few steps away from the punching back, turning your body to face him. Sylus is leaning on the doorway of the gym, his arms crossed. He's wearing his usual black and red shirt with black pants, and his red-tipped dress shoes. As per, he looks like a posh asshole. "Are you interested in sparring this 'little kitty', or are you busy committing crimes?"

You can see something close to amusement flash across his face at the comment. "You're worn out," he replies. "You're soaked in sweat, and your breathing is heavy. It would be unfair to spar you in this condition."

"You scared?"

A beat of silence passes.

And then, Sylus lets out a sigh--and if you listen closely, it almost sounds amused. "It seems the more you're worn out, the cockier you become." He steps closer to the ring, hands reaching for some wraps. "Very well."

You watch as he wraps his hands and steps into the ring with you. "Try to go easy on me, sweetie," he says, gazing at you.

"Yeah, 'cause you'd definitely return the favor," you mutter to yourself, getting in a relaxed stance, shifting your weight back and forth between your feet. Sylus remains in a steady stand, weight distributed evenly between his feet.

Sylus' jab is quick, and you barely manage to dodge it. Ah, shit, I forgot how good at boxing he was. Goddammit. For the first several seconds, you remain on the defense to his swift and agile hooks and jabs.

"You will never win on the defense alone," his rough, baritone voice rings out. "I thought I taught you this. Seize your opportunities!"

He sends a nasty left hook, clipping your jaw a little. If you didn't snake out of the way, that would've surely sent you to the floor. "It seems you've gotten tired, Kitten," he says, and you're not sure if he says that as a consolation or a way of mocking you.

You let out a small huff. "Just shut up and keep going."

A soft scoff leaves his lips, "As you wish, Sweetie."

You two continue to box for a few minutes, with you on the defense and him on the offense most of the time. In between each jab and hook, he makes side comments--and you're still not sure if he's mocking you, or if he's attempting to spite you into completely dominating him. Either way, he's irking you.

After a particularly hard hook to your jaw, you stumble back onto your knees, holding yourself up with your hands. You let out a soft grunt and shake your head, attempting to pull yourself together from the small impact your brain just suffered from.

"I think you've had enough," Sylus says, relaxing from his stance. "It's clear your stamina is at its limit. I would rather you not suffer lasting effects due to your stubbornness." He walks up to you and offers a hand.

Seize your opportunities. With a low grunt, you take his hand and pull yourself up a smidge before quickly pulling his unassuming form forward. With deft movements and lower-body strength you have no right of possessing, you roll onto your back and pull him with you. You raise your legs, wrapping them around his neck in a triangle choke.

Sylus grunts and grips your thigh in an attempt to pry your legs from around him, but you squeeze tightly, keeping his arm hugged against your torso. It doesn't take long for his face to turn a concerning red, and he struggles to get onto his feet for a hint of respite. His body weight presses into you the longer you hold him there, his eyes growing distant and hazy. You don't wait out the time it would take for him to pass out. You quickly release him from your legs and push him back before hopping back up to your feet.

He stays on the ground for a few seconds, taking in the needed oxygen. His complexion slowly goes back to normal as his blood flow is restored. He's silent, and for a moment you believe he's going to retaliate, but instead, a low chuckle leaves his lips. "A submission hold," he says, more to himself than anything. "It seems this kitten has sharper claws than I thought."

You squint at him. No way he was just going to take it and let it slide without retaliation. Nah, this was Sylus. He'll get his get back. You slowly stand and back up, knowing his reach was longer than yours, and his legs are even longer. If he wanted to, he could easily sweep you off your feet with a single flurry of his leg.

Slowly, Sylus stands up, brushing dust off of his shoulders and arms. "Impressive. It seems your knowledge of combat extends further than I originally thought," he praises. For some reason, you feel wary whenever he compliments you--like he's planning something.

"Yeah," you reply slowly, "I'm a 'kitten' around you because I choose to be." You watch as he turns to look at you, his ruby red eyes set ablaze with. . . arousal?

"So, it seems," he replies lowly. "Things will be getting much more interesting, Sweetie."

[oneforthemunny]

carry out |janitor!eddie munson x teacher!reader|

prompt: you had a hard day. eddie's there to take care of you.

the janitor!eddie smut you all wanted.

contains: 18+ MINORS DNI, fluffy a little, soft and sweet eddie, oral fem receiving, fingering fem

Eddie knew something was wrong with you at lunch.

You had this uncanny ability to brighten a room just with your appearance, a radiating and attracting positivity that shined bright and attracted others to it easily. It was what first drew Eddie to you, that beautiful glow that wrapped around him like a warm hug and pulled him in tightly, safely.

Oh, how he loved it. How he was envious of everyone you shared it with. He wanted to bottle it up and keep it just for himself, selfishly, store as much of it away in case you ever left him- God, he hoped with every fiber of his being you never did.

Today was different. Eddie's face lit up, perking up in the metal chairs of the teacher's lounge when you walked in, but this time, your face was sullen. A little droopier and pouty than usual.

"You alright, honey?" Eddie asked gently. He knew you didn't like a lot of PDA during school hours, wanting to keep it as professional as possible to avoid HR.

You sighed heavily, jabbing your pasta salad with a fork. "Yeah," You muttered, but your eyes didn't lift from your Tupperware container. "'M just tired."

That was an understatement.

Drained, was more accurate, Eddie decided. Emotionally, physically, mentally just drained, sucked dry of all energy. You'd managed to muster up enough energy, enough fake smiles and exaggerated tones to get through the rest of your lessons. Steve had offered to take your class down for drop off, which you were beyond thankful for.

You stood in the doorway, ushering your students into a line for Mr. Harrington, grinning though your smile didn't meet your eyes. Eddie watched from the edge of the hall, pushing his cart lazily to get the trash.

"Hey," Eddie called, abandoning his cart against the wall. You looked up at him, tired eyes and slumped shoulders. "You alright, sweetheart? You feeling ok?"

Your eyes cut around you, looking at the other teachers in the hall watching the two of you. Of course they knew you were in a relationship, everyone did, but today you couldn't bring yourself to dealing with their cutting glances.

Stepping into your classroom, you shut the door behind you and Eddie, leaning against it on the handle. "Ed, I am just so tired." You sighed heavily, head falling back on the door. "Today was... Today was a lot."

Eddie's face fell, lips pressing together gently. He searched your expression, your features, for any quirk or cue of something he could do, something he could read into to make it better for you.

"I'm sorry, baby." Eddie sighed helplessly. Fuck, did he hate feeling helpless. "What can I do to make it better? You wanna talk about it? Scream about it?" He teased lightly.

Your lips tugged in the corner ever so slightly, but your eyes remained dull. "I just wanna go home." You sighed, nodding slightly.

"Ok," Eddie croaked, tracking you gently while you grabbed your purse and bags from your desk. "I'll, uh, I'll finish up here and-and I'll head home soon, ok? I'll be super quick." His heart rate was rising a little too uncomfortably quick. He could hear the trilling thump ringing in his ears, palms sweating.

"Ok, honey," You muttered, pulling out your own keys. "I don't think I have it in me to cook tonight. I'm sorry."

Eddie shook his head fiercely, pulling you into his chest. "Don't worry about that." He said fiercely. God, was he such a dick you thought you needed to apologize for not cooking? Did he make you feel like you had to? What was wrong with him?

"I'll take care of it, ok? I'll take care of you." Eddie leaned forward, his curly bangs tickling your forehead.

You lifted your eyes to his, taking in those pretty brown eyes that always had you melting with the slightest gaze. "Let me take care of you tonight, sweetheart. I know you had a rough day." He cooed, hand moving to cup your cheek gently.

You turned into his palm, placing your hand over top of his own. Eddie flushed, familiar heat rising through his chest. There was that warmth, the one he'd been missing from you all day, a small glimmer peeking through the cloudy fog.

"I'll see you when you get home." You muttered, lifting to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. It was brief, soft, left him aching for more, but enough to soothe his buzzing nerves.

Eddie finished gathering the trash and wiping down desks in record time, practically sprinting to his van after he locked up, flying down the roads towards your small home.

He found you on the couch, which he was thankful for, changed out of your school clothes, curled up and watching a movie. Relaxing, he was glad.

You turned to greet him, looking over the couch with half lidded eyes, still drooped and dull from the day, muttering a greeting towards him. Eddie was practically shedding his coveralls (the school mandated ones that made him feel confined and silly).

"Do you want me to cook, or do you want me to call something in?" Eddie asked, bustling into the kitchen, uniform bunched around his waist, flipping through the drawers for the menus.

You sighed with a shrug. "Whatever you want to do." You muttered, lazily leaning into your palm. "'M not very hungry."

"Baby," Eddie sighed, a soft edge to his tone.

"I just..." You hesitated, craning your neck to look back over at him. "Can you just come sit with me? Please?"

And how could Eddie not oblige? Why would he ever want to deny you? He'd rip his own heart straight out of his chest if you asked him to.

"What's going on?" Eddie asked gently, settling on the couch next to you. His hands found your legs, pulling them into his lap, spreading the blanket over the two of you. "You alright?"

"I just had a really long day." You let out a long breath. "I just... I don't even want to think anymore. I don't want to think about dinner, or-or school, or anything other than just being here with you right now."

Eddie nodded slowly, fingertips tracing featherlight patterns on your shins. "Anything I can do to help?" He didn't mean for his voice to carry that tone when he asked, but he offered it nonetheless.

He was a little surprised when you didn't grin or snort, just looked up at him with brows drawn up and rounded eyes. "Please?" You asked gently.

Eddie stilled, body going rigid slightly with shock. "Yeah?" He asked, a blush creeping gently up his neck. "I mean, if-if that's what you want."

"I honestly can not think of anything better to help me relax." You admitted softly.

Eddie couldn't help but grin, all dimples and twinkling eyes that glistened hungrily over your frame. You in your sweat pants and his t-shirt, his favorite version of you; well, besides you naked.

"Sweetheart, all you have to do is ask." Eddie grinned. "You know I can't get enough of you. Fuckin' delicious, you know that."

You blush under the vulgar praise, a tiny grin that leaves Eddie reeling. He's on his knees in front of you, shimmying your sweatpants off and fixing himself so he's got each thigh on his shoulder. He's practically drooling at the sight of your cunt.

Your hands find his hair easily, brushing through his curls with a content sigh, melting further into the couch while Eddie places sloppy smooches to the inside of your thighs. Teasing, just barely, he couldn't deny himself much longer.

Pillowy lips pressed against your mound, nose nuzzling into the light wiry hair there, breathing in your scent deeply. You sigh heavy. "Please, Ed, don't tease me."

Eddie didn't need to be told twice. Never, for you. Calloused hands pressing under your thighs, lifting your legs a little higher for him, plump lips kissing your slit once with a full, wet kiss. Then again, this time, his tongue slipping gently between your folds.

You squirmed, his tongue licking a stripe through your sopping pussy, teasing over your clit. Enough to get your hands gripping his hair a little harder, pulling him up back to your swollen bundle of nerves.

Eddie moaned, flattening his tongue to lick a wide stripe through you again, going back to lap at your sopping hole, catch every last one of your delectable taste. His nose nuzzled into your clit, leaving you hips bucking with movement.

"Ed," You whined, nasally and airy. "Please, right there. Use your tongue there." You pulled on his curls, raising him to your clit, throbbing and desperate for relief.

Eddie obliged. Of course, he did. He was good to you like that.

Lips curling around your clit, he lapped and suckled at your sensitive spot, eyes watching you carefully. With every flutter of that magnificent mouth, you were gasping, thighs closing around his head, squirming and rocking on the couch.

Eddie grinned, his jaw was aching a little, but he could see through your face, pinched eyes and small gasps, you were enjoying it. Your back arched, fingers knotted into Eddie's thick curls when his pointer finger sunk into you, curling into your spongey walls with ease.

"Oh, fuck, Ed. Right there, right there, oh!" You whined, hips grinding and rolling onto his mouth,

Your toes curled hard, heels digging into the blades of his back. "Please, oh fuck, I'm so close." You panted. "K-Keep doing that. Yes, that, right there."

Eddie pulled back gently, a second finger pumping in and out of you, thumb reaching up to circle your clit. "You got it, baby." He breathed out slowly. "I got you. I got you."

Your eyes rolled back, a black staticy vision consuming your sight when his lips wrapped around your clit again. Your hips jumped, sharp and thrusting with impulse, thighs quivering at the sensation. You could feel the pressure building, the lewd sloshing sound filling the room, missing with your pants and whines in a vulgar symphony; music to Eddie's ears. Fucking beautiful, he wanted to play it over, and over, and over.

A final curl of his fingers, brushing that aching spot inside of you had you spilling over, a wet release that flooded all over Eddie. He didn't let up once, not even with the burning in his jaw, or the way you were smothering him into your wetness. He'd gladly waterboard himself in your essence, that was hardly punishment in his eyes, more like his own paradise.

Your chest heaved, body shaking and spasming with every violent after shock that followed. Eddie waited until your were pushing him away, light presses of your palm to his forehead after he lapped you up.

Eddie laid his cheek against your inner thigh, resting it there while he watched you, slumped into the couch, chest heaving and eyes glassy.

"You-You're way too good at that." You shuddered after a moment, slinging your arm over your eyes. You could hear your heartbeat ringing through your ears, pussy clenching and spasming around nothing with every aftershock that shook and tore through you.

Eddie grinned. "You flatter me, baby." He teased, pressing a sweet kiss to the soft skin of your thighs.

You shook your head furiously. "No way." You moaned lightly. "There's no good reason you should be that good at eating me out."

Eddie blushed, snorting lightly, cheek resting back against your skin. The featherlight tickle of his long, dark lashes against your skin had you shivering lightly. "You feel better?" Eddie asked, those same long lashes batting up at you sweetly. Oh, you wanted to kiss him. If you thought you'd be able to move easily, you would.

You nodded, instead, a small smile gracing your lips. Eddie saw it, that same twinkle back in your eyes, breaking through the fragments of you that he knew so well. "I do," You hummed, brushing his curls gently behind his ear. He melted into your touch. "You always get me so good, baby. Take such good care of me."

Eddie burned with praise, moving to press a kiss to the palm of your hand, hiding his blushing cheeks. "So," Eddie groaned lightly, moving out from under you, stretching to grab your discarded sweatpants.

"Now that I've eaten," He grinned, leaving you blushing. "What would you like to eat?"

"You chose." You sighed heavily. "I'm not picky."

Eddie smirked, shimmying your pants up slowly. If he knew you (and he did), you'd want Chinese food. You'd told him once, that shitty days called for Chinese food, and good days called for pizza. He wasn't sure what your logic was behind that, but he didn't care. It was you, your logic, your thoughts, and all you. He was thankful, stupidly so, that he was apart of you, could share those small details with you, and wanted to know every single other one.

In time, he would, but for now; he just wanted to know what your bad day was about. You'd tell him later over half bites of noodles, voice gravely and soft. He'd listen, he always did, it was what you loved about him, so caring and attentive. You'd go to bed, and tomorrow would be better. It would be a better day for the both of you. You'd return with that same warm glow that had Eddie dizzy and wanting more.

[elizabeth-of-avonlea]

he failed

Pairing: Gilbert Blythe x fem!reader

Warning: sfw, fluff, angst, arranged marriage, self-harming

Summery: Gilbert Blythe meets a girl at the ship. A girl he will never meet again.

English isn't my first language, so don't be too harsh if you see grammar mistakes

Gilbert couldn't sleep tonight. Now that Bash was asleep, there was no conversation or any kind of distraction from his own thoughts. It was dark outside, with nothing to light the ocean but the moon above him. As he trailed down the deck, he was mesmerised by how beautifully it shined at the water.

His head was locked at the ocean as he noticed something in the corner of his eyes. Or, better said someone, leaning against the railing with their head down. Her hair floated in the air with each blew of the chilling wind, and her dress was white with puffy sleeves so loose that they hung down her arms. She was as pretty as a painting, to say at last.

She looked elegant and graceful, making it so much harder Gilbert to snap out of the trance he found himself in. But he did, clearing his throat, hoping to catch the ladies' attention, but to his confusion, she didn't move an inch. He cleared his throat again. No signs of notice.

Bash would have laughed at Gilbert for doing all this nonsense just to catch her attention, instead of talking to her. And at some point, Gilbert would have laughed at himself, too. He took a quick breath before taking a step forward.

"Excuse me? Miss?" He whispered. Only now the girl flinched, her face turning towards Gilbert. Her eyes were slightly widened, with signs of crying not so long ago.

"Oh. Yes? Wha– What is it?" She proceeded to wipe away the small trains of tears on her cheeks, then straightened her back and pushed her shoulders behind. "Are you one of my guards? I'm fine, I'm already heading back. " Her eyes were filled almost unnoticeable panic, or with urgency to leave, as she believed, her guard. Gilbert smiled.

"No, I'm not your guard" He corrected her, which to he then got a slight gasp from her.

"I'm so sorry! It's just because.." She hinted at his face, mudded with coal stains. "Your face.."

"Oh, yeah, I work here." Gilbert tried to wipe away the stains, suddenly feeling self-conscious in front of such a beautiful young lady as her. The girl reached into her sleeve, handing him then a napkin. "Thank you"

The girl smiled for a second, but the smile faded as she turned back to the ocean, leaning once again against the railing. Gilbert's eyes didn't leave her form even while he was busy wiping off the mess on his face. She was a girl you liked to look at. Gilbert then also leaned against the railing, kinda hesitant. After all, she was crying not so long ago.

"Ehm, I'm Gilbert Blythe." He cleared his throat. She looked at him with a smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"Y/N Y/S" She looked back at the ocean. It was quiet between them for a while, with Gilbert not knowing how to proceed and with Y/N not even thinking of talking right now. The splashes of water against the ship now seemed to be louder than ever, louder than Gilbert could think.

His gaze led back to her, again and again, just to see her zoomed out, thinking of God knows what. Gilbert tried to concentrate on the napkin she gave him. It was stained with black now.

"Sorry, I stained your napkin," He whispered, making Y/N slowly look at the napkin and smile. She looked so tired and not necessarily physically but emotionally.

"It's fine. I know where I was going when I gave you it." She tittered, making Gilbert do the same. He put the napkin into his front pocket. Surely he would need this napkin tomorrow or next weeks, even if it won't clean as much as did before.

Gilbert licked his lips in hesitation, his eyes darting towards her and then back to the water beneath. "If you don't mind me asking, what's troubling you?" He asked, making her eyes widen slightly and look at him in surprise. Her eyes searched for a trap, but all she saw were his handsome black eyes looking back at her. She looked away.

"I'm, well.." She took a breath. "I'm moving to California. It's a new city, found 40 years ago." YN trailed off, not knowing how to continue. She had no experience in sharing her issues with anyone, especially a stranger. But as she looked at Gilbert, he was still looking at her, actually listened. She stared at him, like looking at a wonder, forgetting to talk.

"You don't want that, right?" He asked, and she nodded, nibbing slightly at her lower lip as she once again didn't manage to hold eye contact. It was cute, thought Gilbert. "You don't want to leave your hometown?"

"No, no.." She whispered, fudging with her fingers. She took a shaky breath. "I– I'm getting married.. to an old man. " Her gaze was locked at the water, feeling ashamed for the arranged marriage, like it was her fault. Gilbert mumbled a quiet oh, then pressed his lips into thin line. He shouldn't have asked or reacted out loud, or maybe he did the right thing. He didn't know what to do in this situation.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked.. or reacted like that. " He shifted closer to her, but so that there was some distance. He wanted to catch her eyes, the ones that were so stubbornly secured on the ocean.

"Don't apologise. You couldn't have known." She gently tossed her hair back, not knowing what to do with herself. "And I liked your reaction," She tittered, her eyes meeting his "You're the first one to react this way.. other's don't react at all, like it's normal to marry someone off to an old man. " Her voice got quieter and quieter.

"It's not. You should marry out of love and only love." Gilbert resured. This time, she chuckled, still quiet, but the loudest he had heard her laugh. He hid his face in his hand, only leaving eyes not covered. It wasn't like she could have seen the tint of pink on his face. It was too dark for that.

"I like you, you're funny" She smiled, tilting her head to see his face better. Gilbert cleared his throat, his eyes running around from her face to anywhere else but her.

"I wasn't joking, but I appreciate the compliment." He smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. Her smile faded slightly, she then turned back to the water.

"I won't marry out of love," She whispered, "maybe in the next life." Gilbert raised one of his eyebrows at her words

"You believe in that?" He asked.

"Yes, or, well, I just hope it is true." She trailed off. "It can't be that my only life is.. like this. " She took shaky breath. Gilbert noticed a tear in her eye, which she immediately wiped away. She took a big breath, straightening her back. She turned towards Gilbert completely.

"Mr. Blythe—"

"Call me Gilbert, please" He interrupted, making her titter again.

"Gilbert," She started. "If you marry, marry for love. Marry someone you will never regret sharing your life with." She pleaded, even though she tried to steady her voice. After a moment of silence between them, she took a breath, turned around, and started to walk off. Gilbert reached out, stopping her by holding her hand.

"Wait, I—" He didn't know what he wanted to say. He didn't know why he stopped her. Their eyes met again. She was waiting, waiting for him to say something that would maybe make her life better. Something. Anything.

But Gilbert didn't have anything to say. He couldn't do anything, and she knew it better than anyone else. She slipped her hand away from Gilbert's hold. With last look, she turned away, leaving Gilbert alone in the dark with the moon.

It's been a week. Gilbert laid in his so-called bed, looking up at the roof, with his eyebrows furrowed. He couldn't stop thinking of her.

"Hey boy, look at this." Bash tossed a magazine at Gilbert, without his usual smile.

"Did you steal it?" Gilber asked.

"Read." Bash commanded, and Gilbert started to do so. His eyes flew over the magazine as they caught a familiar name. Y/N Y/S. He shifted, more concentrated.

'Y/N Y/S — a young girl — took her life right after her arranged marriage'

Gilbert's breath stuck in his throat, his face furrowing in confusion and shock, and also, regret. He was there, it was clear she wasn't in the best state, he could have done something, anything, to make her feel better. But he didn't. He failed.

[the-dixon-effect]

centre of the universe ✧.*

a/n: 4 months later i'm back, so sorry guys. i got a little caught up. been missing daryl most of all too. i'm feeling a little rusty and tired but here's a cute little thing ig!

requested by: @pandarooooo-blog find the request here :)

summary: having married Negan in order to rescue Daryl from the Sanctuary, you found yourself, 9 months later, raising a kid of your own. the baby being Negan's, you hadn't been particularly enthusiastic to embrace the situation.

words: 1.2k

era: season 8-9, post-saviours

Sitting around Rick and Michonne's dining table embraced by the warm glow of the sky late into summer - what felt like a fever dream at it's best. The past year had left you bruised, emotionally and physically, Hell, you hadn't caught break since the world went to shit. But today, the air was pregnant with sweetness and laughter as you bathed in the company of your family. You stood up from the table once the feast was presumed finished. Your daughter giggled softly, cradled in your arms - her innocence a trait that you only mirrored while everybody fought for her attention.

Rosita imitated her best baby-voice, babbling some nonsensical rhetoric about her being "the cutest" and the "sweetest", while Rick reminisced about the days back on the road with Judith years ago. Noticing this, you thanked him sincerely, "You built this Rick, for Judith, for her," you gestured down to the precious being in your arms. "For all of us." The atmosphere was silent despite the extent of nods and smiles in agreement - the only sound was the sweet laughter of your darling girl.

Daryl, who had been standing by your side, broke the silence "She looks jus' like her mama," he spoke proudly, as though there were a part of him somewhere that wished he was the father; a notion that only remained at the forefront of Daryl's mind when he saw your sweet figure.

"Right?" you agreed, pursuing Daryl's gaze aside from the rest of group. Daryl, as loyal as ever, had stuck by your side during the pregnancy and made sure you were never hungry, uncomfortable, God forbid you were ever unsafe inside the walls. For that you were grateful. He remained your 'best friend', though, and a part of you needed him to know that you wanted him in other ways.

Tears came streaming down your face faster than you could register the situation. Two weeks ago, you kneeled before Negan and the Saviours in the depths of the night. A week later, you were married to Negan, letting him use you to his will only to set Daryl free from the cage they had him locked in. And sure, if that wasn't traumatic enough, this morning you discovered you were pregnant. With Negan's kid.

You were scared, hurt, resentful, but most of all in shock. The overwhelming emotions contained you thoroughly inside your house, and you had not been seen by anyone all day. When a knock arose at your bedroom door, you sprang to your feet and swiftly wiped away the tears that painted your face an unforgiving shade of pink.

"Who is it?" you sobbed, trying to hide your quavering, pitiful tone beneath the question.

"'S jus' me," It was Daryl. You could tell from the husky, gravelly voice behind the door. He sounded concerned. Composing yourself, you took one last look around the messy room before slowly clutching the cold doorknob and twisting it open. His figure towered over you, not threatening - the kind you had been used to - but barricading you from any dangers that stood between him and the rest of the world.

Daryl stood before you, not knowing what to say or do, searching for some trace of an answer in the absent, glassy expanse of your eyes. Absent, there were indeed, for each moment your body stood inside the walls of Alexandria, your mind was back there, in that 'Sanctuary'.

Another wave of tears came down your face before your clouded mind could form a coherent expression.

"Hey, hey, I got ya'," he soothed, drawing your frame into a tight hug, sheltered from anyone's presence, even in your own mind Negan's shadow seemed to dissipate into the encompassing swell of his chest. At least Daryl's stature provided you some respite; it was healing, momentarily. That was until he pulled way, wishing to understand, perhaps, why you were so upset. "Come on, let's siddown'-"

"I'm pregnant, Daryl, I don't know- I don't know what to.." you sobbed, returning to the embrace in an attempt to suppress the rhythmic pound that lay waste to your mind. Daryl, in his own state of shock, could do nothing but hold you. In truth, you did not wish for him to do anything else. Slowly, he walked you to your bedside, his touch not once faltering. With strong arms now safely caging you into his figure, you lay your head on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Daryl..." you sighed, closing your eyes in search for some calm.

"Hey, no. You don't ever gotta say sorry, not to me," he gravelled, in that sweet, low voice of his. As he spoke into the crown of your head, you felt his words reverberate somewhere deep inside, moreso than you heard them. He was so tender with you.

"I'm scared," you began. You were embarassed to appear in this manner in front of Daryl. You didn't want to speak. Though you thought you owed him some expression of how you were feeling. "I hate him so much, y'know. I know you know. I hate him, for what he did to you. And me. I just thought," you weeped uncontrollably into Daryl's shoulder, at the notion that Negan - that evil man - would never escape your world. Daryl tried to console you, lifting your head up inches away from his own, though, he too, was flooded with memories and resentment indistinguishable from your own.

"What if my baby turns out like him?" you asked, in rhetoric. Lord knows, what kind of answer you expected.

"Shh.. Dun' think like that," he drawled, laying a gentle kiss on your forehead. The two of you had never been this close before.

"Yer' kid is gonna be strong, and kind, and beautiful.." he trailed off, cursing him damn mouth for running away from his brain. "Just like their momma."

"Daryl?" you spoke, softly, painting a number of maternal images at the forefront of his mind.

"Yeah?" he replied. Not once did he avert his gaze from your tear-stricken face.

"Will you stay.. with me? I'm scared... I don't wanna do this alone,"

"Of course, darlin'." From that moment on, Daryl never left your side.

The warm Virginian sun dipped below the walls of your home in the distance, evening winds stirred, gently, hardly noticeable. You cradled your beautiful baby girl in your arms, your mind empty of all negative thoughts. Just for a little while, everything was perfect. It seemed almost strange, that you were now happier than ever in this post-apocalyptic world.

Daryl strolled up to the gazebo where you perched with your daughter. The setting sun lit up your face like you were the centre of the universe. The centre of his universe, perhaps. It was hypnotic, seeing you in this way, so loving and maternal, more beautiful than ever.

"Hey," you smiled, watching the archer approach cautiously. He was always like this - acting as though his mere presence was a disturbance. You thought quite the opposite. "You can sit down Daryl, you won't wake her," you said sweetly. He simply stood there, an arm leaning on the gazebo fence, smiling down at you. So you stared right back up at him, wondering if he would take you up on your offer.

"I love ya', Y/N,"

"I know. C'mere,"

[shadykazama]

Venture SFW alphabet

This is my first post on here. I absolutely adore this goober and there's not enough stuff for them so I'm making my own. Lemme know if anyone wants the NSFW version

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

-Sloane is very affectionate, even just as a friend, but that’s only amplified as a romantic partner. Their love language is touch; they want their hands on their partner as much as possible. As far as how they show it, it’s usually in the form of hugs or randomly placing their hands on you if you’re in public. A hand on the small of your back as they walk by you, a hand on your thigh if you’re sitting by one another, holding your hand as you walk together. 

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

-Any relationship with them would start from being good friends first. They’re very touchy even just as a friend, giving you a spine crushing hug if they can everytime they see you. Their life revolves around their work and I can’t see them staying in one place for very long with how much they have to travel, so it’s likely you’d have to meet them through work somehow to establish a lasting relationship. 

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

-An absolute cuddle UNIT. If it was an eventful day they would want to hold you, recounting the day as they mess with your hair and leave kisses on your neck and cheeks intermittently. However, if it was a tiring day, they’ll want to be held. It’s not easy to tire out Sloane, but it does happen on occasion, and in those instances they want to relax against your chest and feel safe listening to your heartbeat. 

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

-Settling down for them might be difficult, considering their job, but they probably do have an apartment in their hometown in Canada for when they’re doing research or on break. They have a few dishes they can cook by heart, Spanish dishes their grandmother taught them how to make. They’d cook them for you eagerly, and teach you how to make them as well. Cleaning however… well you might have to take the lead on that front. They’re not exactly dirty, just messy. 

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

-God, what a question. For them to break up with someone, it’d probably be something the other person has done to break their trust or affection. Cheating, talking about them behind their back, or insulting them/their work to their face. They wouldn’t be happy about it, but it’d likely be a bitter end. 

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

-It wouldn’t be fast, but not slow either. I think they have a very open idea of commitment, not necessarily needing to be married to be happy if you weren’t up to the idea of it. Just being your partner would be enough. But if you did want to get married they’d be eager. Choosing the ring would be the hardest part of the plan (so many rocks to choose from), but they’d inevitably pick your favorite stone. 

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

-Emotionally they’re very gentle, a sweetheart through and through. If you ever needed comfort they’re there, fast as can be, with a soft touch and a goofy smile to try and brighten your day. Physically, they try really hard to be gentle, and usually they are. But they do forget their strength from time to time, usually lost in overexcitement or pleasure to notice until it’s too late. They can dish out some absolutely spine crushing hugs, or some accidental bruises, of which they will profusely apologize for. 

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

-A FIEND for hugs. They hug you all the time, finding comfort in it. Their hugs are comfortable and warm (when they’re calm). As friends they would hug you over the shoulders, often rocking you side to side in excitement. But as a romantic partner their hugs are often more intimate, they’ll hold you around the waist and kiss your head. Their guilty pleasure hug is hugging you from behind, catching you while you’re busy. If it doesn’t impair you, they’ll often stand there like that, watching you work over your shoulder while they talk. 

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

-They probably say it first, likely by accident. It happens a random time when you’re cuddling. They would be drifting off, with you on their chest. In their sleepy daze they would be peering down at you with admiration before mumbling out an “I love you”. If you caught it they would just smile, with a small blush on their cheeks, and tell you “Well, it’s true. I love you.” (They’d be sad if you didn’t say it back)  

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

-I don’t think they’re possessive persay, and they definitely trust you, the problem arises when other people flirt with you. If you seem uncomfortable, they have an excuse, inserting themselves in between you and the person rather assertively, staying close and purposefully annoying until the other person leaves. But if you’re not uncomfortable, maybe even innocently enjoying the attention? They’d be conflicted, but inevitably I do think they’d come over and wrap an arm around you. The absolute stink eye I believe they possess certainly isn’t intimidating, but it gets the point across, and trust they’ll be using it on whoever’s flirting with you. 

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

-Sloan is an enthusiastic kisser, they put a lot of passion and adoration into their kisses. I’d say they’re probably the one to initiate a lot of them, but they get a really big dorky grin if you do. Their favorite place to kiss you is probably on the cheek (or on your forehead if you’re shorter than them, I think they’re around 5'10-5'11 from doing some calculations with in-game models.) To be kissed, I’d say they like it anywhere, but get embarrassed if you kiss their jaw/neck. 

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

-Sloan is amazing with children, having the energy and attitude to keep them entertained- not to mention a plethora of awe inspiring stories. They’re not at a point in life where they’re ready for kids, but that doesn’t mean they don’t want any. I think if you didn’t want kids, they’d definitely be disappointed, but it wouldn’t be a dealbreaker by any means. 

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

-They’re an early bird, nothing can convince me otherwise. Sloan is energetic and starts their day almost too enthusiastic (but why wouldn’t they when there’s so much to discover?) With you though? They’d be willing to stay in bed for a bit just to cuddle you some more. Do expect them to wake you up though, probably a lot earlier than you want if you’re not a morning person. 

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

-While they are a morning person, I didn’t say they went to bed early, did I? Just in general I think they don’t sleep a lot. Going to sleep at midnight some days, though when they’ve had a particularly rough day they’ll pass out pretty fast. Regardless, your nightly routine with them consists of you cleaning their face from dirt and being recounted the details of their day even if you were there. Besides that, your nights will vary. At times, you’ll bathe together and they’ll all but beg you to wash their hair for them, and sometimes they’ll stay up researching until you come drag them to bed. But you can guarantee you’ll find yourself in their arms before the morning comes, one way or another. 

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

-Not secretive in the slightest. One of the only things I can see them keeping from you for a while is their assigned at birth sex. And that’s halfway from them just not thinking about it, and halfway out of fear that you’ll see them differently once they tell you. It’s an unfounded anxiety of course, and they wouldn’t keep it from you for any malicious or distrusting reasons. 

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

-Making Sloan angry is pretty difficult if they like you. Even when Mauga threatens to steal artifacts off them they’re not truly expressing anger. More concern and pouting than anything. It would take some truly heinous deeds to piss them off. 

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

-There’s simply no way they don’t remember everything you ever tell them. Sure, they forget random things about random stuff, but you’re not random. You’re something they’re passionate about, and you can bet they’ll be hanging onto every word you say. That one time you told them about some obscure childhood memory? They could recite it in detail. You looked at something in a shop for too long? Guess what the next gift they get for you is.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

-It’s a hard choice. They remember when they first thought that they loved you, you weren’t even together yet, they hadn’t confessed. But remembering how they felt when they realized, clutching their chest as they stared at you with longing adoration. The other time I think would be when you find out their last secret (from Open^). It was nerve wracking, that’s for sure, but I think it’d be a really important moment for them. Hearing that final confirmation that you loved them and wouldn’t regard them any differently was a relief. It bridged any gap for them, and they truly felt like they could share anything with you after that. 

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

-Possessive they are not, but protective? Oho yes. Keeping you safe has and will continue to be their main priority at any given time. They’d be upset honestly if you put yourself in danger for their sake, pepper your face with kisses and hug you to them securely when you’re safe again. Would absolutely tell you to never do that again. Hilariously though- or shall I say ironically, they put themselves in danger all the time for less dire reasons. If you ever pointed that out, they’d wave you off, say it’s not the same with uncharacteristic unwillingness to listen. They of course know they’re in the wrong, but in their eyes you’re more important. You’d have to really put it in perspective for them to try and be more careful, for no other reason than your poor heart at least. 

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

-When it comes to their passions, they give nothing less than the most effort they can. Gifts come easily, considering how dutifully they listen to you. Not to mention how often you travel together, there’s always exciting spontaneous dates to check out foreign foods or museums. 

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

-Sloan has a bad habit of interrupting people when they’re talking. Of course, it’s not on purpose, but they’ll have a thought and just have to say it before they forget. Domestically, I think if you’re a really tidy person or keep things in very specific places, this would annoy you, but they have a habit of grabbing things while they walk around and then just sitting it down somewhere else when they’re done with it. Not to mention their aforementioned messiness. 

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

-They put in some effort, I can confidently say that. With their tattoos and their piercings, it’s obvious to some degree they care about their appearance, but to which degree I can only guess. Their hair is short, convenient. They would fall asleep with dirt on their face a lot if not for you. HOWEVER, my biggest counterpoint is that their nails stay painted. Considering how much they do with their hands for work, getting dirty and such, they have to be committed to the upkeep. It’s really a 50/50, they could clean up real nice if they felt like it, they’re just usually working so have no reason to.  

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

-Entirely. A day without you there in the morning to wake up to, or at night to cuddle with is already too much to bear. Without you there to ramble on about their day, or to share food with- to patch them up when they do something really reckless. It’d all just feel so empty without you there. 

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

-For non-Spanish speakers, they would definitely want to teach you whenever the two of you had free time. And they’d be super proud if you ever greeted them or called them a pet name in Spanish randomly. 

-For those of y’all who already speak Spanish, one of their favorite things to do for stay at home dates is making and comparing childhood dishes. 

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

-Someone who has a hard time listening to others/remembering conversations. Sloan talks a lot, they know that, but being heard is a big part of attraction for  them. They want to matter to their partner as much as their partner means to them.

-Somewhat random but if you don’t like being outside I don’t think it’d make them dislike you but it would kinda put a damper on them. Like an ick almost. 

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

-They don’t hold you super tight while you’re sleeping, but if you try to get up they wake up in a weird sleep daze and incoherently argue with you until you either give up and lay back down or offend them on accident (by simply trying to get up) and they’ll huff and roll over and fall back to sleep. If you bring this up, they’ll swear up and down not to remember, and even think you’re messing with them. 

[seeds-and-sins]

Light My Fire - Part Eight

Pairing: Ben "Soldier Boy" x Reader

Rating: M (Crude Language, Curse Words, Sexism, minor references to sex, WARNING: talks about death and self-harm)

Description: Phoenix tries to rectify the missing pieces within herself, but she struggles to figure out how.

Tagged: @tonixe@chernayawidow , @deans-spinster-witchs-favorites, @ophennie@virgoelf-blog , @my-obsession-spn, @capricxnt @demodemo909 @boywivlove

Song: Gypsy - Fleetwood Mac

"FUCK!" Homelander yelled, the tv remote broke in his closed fist. One of the flat screen televisions in the meeting room was set to channel 8 and Starlight was all over the news. Her little video had gone viral, her resignation given, Homelander thrown under the bus, this was all out war. Homelander was fuming, Ashley was gnawing her nails down to the skin, the Deep was posted at one of the chairs around the table, Agnes was sitting a few seats down from him sipping on a cup of coffee.

And you were standing there, arms crossed, staring blankly at the screen.

You were so tired. Physically, mentally, and emotionally drained from everything. Just from living really.

When was the last time you slept again?

"Okay!" Ashley squealed, "We'll fix this. We'll fix this. Please. Oh my god! Fuck!" Your eyes slid shut, her panicking died in your ears, the world silenced for a moment.

"Phoenix!" Your eyes shot open, Homelander was staring at you with a look of desperation plastered on his face. "What do we do?" Your hands tightened around your biceps and your teeth dug into your bottom lip. What do we do? More importantly, what should be done?

"We don't have time to worry about Starlight." Your voice came out hoarse, in a low whisper. The room fell quiet. "She has a loyal fan base, but they aren't as loyal as our people. I wouldn't worry about her." Homelander nodded virgorously, licking his lips. The desperation in his boyish eyes faded and what replaced it was a sharp coldness.

"You're right. We've got to find Soldier Boy."

"But we need to make a statement!" Ashley's shrill made you roll your eyes.

"Go take a fuckin' Xanax, Ashley!" You commanded, holding up an admonishing finger. Ashley's lips shut with a resounding pop and she straightened, fear crawled up her spine and glued her to the floor. "I'll talk. I know how to charm a crowd. It'll put this off until we can get shit under control." Your command came out more as a question, Homelander's jaw flicked from side to side before he nodded. "Come on Agnes." The older woman rose from the table without protest, following after your quick strides with a waddle of her own.

...

"Good Evening!" You crowned your fingers and propped them up on the podium. "I appreciate you all being here for this impromptu press conference. Given the situation, I'm sure you know there are a few things that Vought needs to address."

"Where's Homelander?" A journalist shouted from the crowd, flapping his hand above the sea of heads to get Phoenix's attention.

"Homelander is off handling more important matters." The crowd broke out in shouted questions and mixed words, journalists reaching over eachother as they attempted to flag you down. You begrudgingly pointed at a woman in the front row.

"Isn't this important? Starlight has resigned? What is the future of the Seven? Why are you up there when you're not even on the team?" It went silent as everyone waited for a response, or rather, a staccato of responses to answer a staccato of questions. You paused, thought about the significance of your next words, what they would mean. You found a camera and stared into it.

"I want to make myself very clear..." Your voice penetrated the air, the room was thick with the tone that every syllable carried. "Starlight isn't a priority. Everyday Homelander, I, and many other heroes are trying to keep you all safe. We fought overseas so that the super villain threat could be contained. I underestimated the enemy and now the super villain threat is here. Us heroes need to be doing our jobs, not starting petty battles over social media. If Starlight wants to play her games and spread her lies, slander us, she is welcome to do so. But Homelander and I are going to focus on what is important: your safety, your lives."

An intense stillness blanketed the crowd, a few camera flashes. One journalist had the gull to raise their hand, when no one else would, not after a speech like that.

"What are your thoughts on the deathes of the TNT twins? Your former colleagues?"

Good. I'm glad they're dead.

"And your friend? Crimson Countess?" Your head tilted to the other voice, you swallowed and looked down at your fingers.

"Countess wasn't my friend, and neither were the Twins." You shook your head. "Not anymore at least. Not when they turned their backs on..." You paused. Me. -- Ben. "On you. The people. Some of the strongest heroes I knew for their time, and only Noir and I remain. The others worried about their luxury condos, their ratings, movie deals, royalties. None of them cared about what really matters. I don't mourn them. I don't think I ever will."

"But what of Soldier Boy? You were there when he died, did you mourn him?"

"I-" You had to take a deep breath, the emotions that swelled in you had nearly knocked you off your feet. You cleared your throat and held back tears. "I did. I do."

Soldier Boy was still dead to you.

"Soldier Boy died so that all of us could live."

...

 🎶 So I'm back to the velvet underground.  🎶 

 🎶 Back to the floor that I love... 🎶 

Three Xanax, two blunts-going on three-and half a bottle of whiskey later, you found yourself laying on your bed in a mess of comforter and pillows. Your suit was discarded somewhere, leaving you down to nothing but your underwear. And you were just laying there, staring up at the ceiling as you smoked from a blunt and sipped from a bronze filled glass. Your record player sung in the background, mellowing out your already distant mood.

 🎶 To a room with some lace and paper flowers 🎶 

 🎶 Back to the gypsy that I was 🎶 

 🎶 To the gypsy that I was... 🎶 

What did you have?

John?

He kept you around as an extension of himself rather than as someone he cared for. You were the arms of his authority, fingers curled around your enemies with a vice grip. In reverse, he was a reflection of you in many ways, uncaring, erratic, impulsive. You knew he didn't care about you. Not truly. You weren't sure he was capable of it. Maybe with some admiration, some approval, but love was a distant thought in John's head. He only ever craved it from others. And you were more than able to provide in the past, giving pieces of yourself to John without a second thought. Now you had no more pieces left to give.

 🎶 And it all comes down to you. 🎶 

 🎶 And you know that it does when. 🎶 

 🎶 Lightening strikes maybe once maybe twice. 🎶 

Your fans?

You would rather burn them all alive, throw them in a furnace and walk away. They didn't love you. They loved the image of yourself that you fronted, but they didn't know you.

 🎶 Oh and it lights up the night. 🎶 

 🎶 And you see your gypsy (ohh, ohh) 🎶 

 🎶 You see your gypsy. 🎶 

You?

That was all you had. Herodom was a quiet life, a lonely one. But it was never about saving people or doing some good in the world. As much as Starlight thought she was making a difference, the world would never change. There would always be criminals. There would always be greedy politicans and corrupt agents of the law. The world was cold and callous and it never retreated.

And you had nothing.

You were a victim of the chaos. Vought took you in, molded you into something vile and morbid, tossed you around in a bag of salt, and hurled you into the world for their own profit.

You were an experiment.

Your lips wrapped around the end of your blunt and you took a drag. Smoke flowed from your nostrils, it floated up toward the high ceiling and you watched it swirl until it faded completely.

Your head drooped to the side and your face wrinkled as if you were about to cry, before you suppressed that urge.

 🎶 To the gypsy that remains. 🎶 

 🎶 Faces freedom, with a little fear. 🎶 

 🎶 I have no fear, and have only love. 🎶 

 🎶 And if I was a child and the child was enough. 🎶 

 🎶 Enough for me to love. 🎶 

 🎶 Enough to love. 🎶 

Through a blurry haze, your half lidded eyes spotted a figure at the open double doors leading into your bedroom. You shifted a little, squinted, then slowly sat upright.

"Ben?"

He was dressed in his full suit, arms straight at his sides.

"Hello, hot stuff." He answered casually, stepping closer. He sent you a boyish smile that reminded you of his older self, all cocky, all confident, all play, no work.

"What are you-" The blunt dropped from your hand, hitting the marble floor. "What are you doing here?" His eyes darted down your body, hovering over your naked torso a little longer than necessary before raising back to your face.

"You didn't need me?" You dropped your head, a firm hand cupped on your jaw, the touch burned into your skin and your gaze was being directed back to Ben. He felt so real. He felt solid. He felt tangible.

 🎶 She is dancing away from you now (Oooh). 🎶 

 🎶 She was just a wish, she was just a wish (ooh, ooh). 🎶 

 🎶 And her memory is all that is left for you now. 🎶 

"Am I hallucinating?" Your palms rested gently on his chest, Ben's thumb scaled your cheek and he sighed.

"No."

 🎶 You see you're a gypsy. 🎶 

"This is a dream, sweetheart."

"Of course it is," You sniffled.

"You wouldn't be able to hallucinate, even if you wanted." Another voice chimed and when you glanced over, it was Vogelbaum. "Your body can't sustain the affects of foreign substances long enough for that to happen." He was in a bloodied labcoat and his words were slightly muffled through a gas mask. Your expression lit up with panic and your head was being yanked back by Soldier Boy's hand.

"Don't pay attention to that piece of shit." Soldier Boy drew you closer with his other hand at your hip. "Just look at me."

"Why is this happening? Why am I dreaming about this?" You whispered, Ben's hand moved to cradle the back of your head.

"Because I'm the answer." You blinked at him, then tiredly moved into his body. Your arms wrapped around him and you hugged him. Ben enveloped you in return, his strong and bulky arms holding you close...

"You even smell real."

"That's what happens when you smoke a lot of dope."

"Also, the cannabis you were smoking no doubt contained traces of LSD." Vogelbaum again. You squeezed your eyes shut and Soldier Boy grunted when your arms tightened around him.

"Can he just shut up for fucks sake?" Soldier Boy inhaled deeply and he exhaled with a sigh.

"You want my advice?"

"Not really." He grabbed your shoulders and drew you away at arm's length.

"Sometimes you gotta take life by the balls, kid." You blinked at him, your head sinking toward your chest. Soldier Boy rolled his eyes before grabbing under your chin and lifting your head again. "Remember back in the day. We didn't let anybody get in our way. We owned this fuckin' place."

"Oh no." You breathed, your palms rose to your cheeks and Soldier Boy relinquished his hold on you so you could pace away from him. "It's happening. This is it. I'm having the worst mental breakdown of my life. I'm going to destroy the world."

"Only in theory." Vogelbaum piped in again, "Theoretically your body can reach temperatures bordering that of the sun and in that instance-" Soldier Boy's shield came hurtling toward him out of nowhere. The Scientist disappeared in a puff of smoke before the metal could touch him.

"I hate that guy." Soldier Boy's head tilted as he considered you. "Listen..." He emphasized with raised hands. "The only person who understands you right now is me." He stepped toward you, and you hunched in on yourself in defeat."You have me. I'm your answer."

"You're also a figment of my imagination."

"Nah, honey, I'm out there. I'm alive. Come find me."

"You want me dead out there." Soldier Boy's lips quirked up in a handsome smirk and he shook his head.

"But, sweetheart, I don't."

...

When your eyes opened, they opened slowly, the blunt had burnt out in your bed sheet and your body was sprawled out across the bed in all different directions. You blinked at the ceiling, thinking about your dream, thinking about him. The thought left a gross taste in your mouth, your stomach jumped and a weight settled in your chest.

Gosh, you wanted to die sometimes, didn't you?

What was this? What were you doing here?

Why don't you just leave and give all this up? Just like you always wanted.

Because you can't.

You were tired.

It took a few minutes of blank staring before you rose from your bed and travelled out of your room.

"God help me!" You heard a voice exclaim as you entered into the living room. It was Agnes. She made an effort to cover her gaze from your nude figure. And after all these years, she still hadn't gotten used to your ways. You squinted at her, stumbling toward the onset of the kitchen.

"What are you doing here? I told you to leave." Agnes nervously clenched and unclenched her fingers, finally lowering her hand to look at you. Your eyes connected, Agnus' wrinkles creased with a furrowed brow, with concern.

"Homelander wanted me to stay. He's worried about you." You groaned, pouring yourself another glass of whiskey and downing it back with a wince.

"I'm fine."

"You don't look fine." You poured the next glass, sipping from it as you held Agnus' expectant gaze.

"John just wants to make sure I'm on his side." You replied in a dull tone, hunching over the countertop.

"Are you?" You didn't respond. Not immediately. Your eyes flitted around the penthouse and you took in the expanse of space that had been your home for decades.

"Maybe I don't want to be on a side anymore, Agnes." You placed your glass down and stalked over to a wall that held various photos and movie posters and memories from the old days. You scanned each photo, as you had hundreds of times, with a trained eye.

"Please. Tell me what's wrong."

"Everything I do, it doesn't matter." Your eyes paused on a familiar face, and you felt a sadness engulf the entirety of your heart.

He was so good to you. Always trying to comfort you. Always at your side when you needed him.

"Do ya'maybe want to talk about it?"

"No."

You would go find him. That was final. You were sure of it. Screw everyone else. This man. He would be the one you went to. He was the one you needed. He would tell you what you needed to do and he would be genuine. Above all. He would be genuine.

"I'm heading out for a little bit, Agnes. Alone." You took quick steps toward your room.

"Wait, wh-where are you going? Homelander told me to watch you." You didn't respond, turning to close the double doors into your bedroom. At the last glimpse between the cracks, you saw her plop onto the couch with exasperation.

[weirdmageddon]

I'm taking the plunge because why not:

What are some headcanons regarding small, silly things that happened during the 3 year trips on the Golden Yard and Meteor?

oh lets go i love this sort of ask. no meteor crew stuff sorry im kinda tired but

on the prospitian ship:

the crocodiles are never recovering from that shit bro. un-stonks

alchemizing sessions. probably with mundane household devices like toothbrushes or something. patterned toilet paper. davesprite absolutely remakes the sbahjifier for himself but i think he also likes to hand draw them from time to time. also john and jade alchemizing bathing suits and going swimming on lolar and hanging with the turtles. casey can come too. floaties on casey

the sbahj canon diverges. so many sbahj in-jokes exclusive to the prospitian ship. unfortunately the retcon make it so none of this ever happens :(

he’d never say it but davesprite likes it when john and jade fall asleep on him doing whatever, it makes his presence feel wanted and appreciated by the people he sacrificed his self and humanhood for good for. sorry for immediately going into davesprite but good god is he tragic. oh yeah heres more. he’s still part dave and shares the same history with john and jade that alpha timeline dave does. john gave him his shades on his 13th birthday in december 2008, he sent john the con air bunny and jade a physical copy of sbahj as furries in the mail. he is identical to alpha dave in relation to his friends before the timeline splits off. dont forget that 4/13/2009 was also his first time meeting his online friends john and jade in person, even after 4 months chronologically of sburb grinding—nearly a year with all the time shenanigans—and going back to day 1, since john and jade were dead in his timeline

tries not to cry cries anyway but only when he knows theyre asleep. pov when the weight of everything suddenly hits you (you are an emotionally repressed 14 year old)

also because he’s fucking fluffy and absolutely knows it and probably thinks to himself “yeah this is the best possible use for these otherwise pointless breast feathers” and yall already know he craves cloth mother plus probably has nesting instincts

(source)

adding on to that also i think people forget sprites are actually fucking LONG and his wingspan is fucking huge he could be a pillow and a blanket at the same time

i wrote davesprite jade cuddles and john thinking about mushrooms and davesprite thinking about how they contribute to the ecnonony

^ john toked too hard on the lowas mushrooms by accident one time

it feels like pajama parties would be a common occurence just the vibes im getting. literally jade is seen sitting on a pile of squiddles and theres plushies fucking everywhere you know they got up to plushie mayhem. do you think they ever alchemized them. look how lived in that room is they all contributed something

jade resumes gardening :) but theres no sun :( but she alchemizes some plastic plants :D but its not the same :(

canonically the imps in johns house just gave up tormenting him and started hanging out and having snacks on movie night

PENIS!

imagine looking up into the sky and seeing a giant casey the size of a planet sleep. jade resizes stuff for fun like this just to introduce some novelty to their lives

this is something

davesprite has beavis and butthead do america (1996) in his collection somewhere in his apartment on lohac

yall theyre watching johns fuckin spongebob dvd box collection. you KNOW john owns the spongebob squarepants movie (2004). and the best thing is it brings all of them together without any of them objecting. they all love spongebob

when the episode jellyfish jam comes on johns like “wow, pretty much this exact scenario happened to me with the imps.” (arthur flashback sfx)

DAVESPRITE: yeah well you didnt have a giant sound system did you

jade warps dave’s bro’s sound system from lohac and sizes it up. they put on stadium rave and the entire fucking house shakes

[thegirlwiththeninjaturtletattoos]

SPN Quotes and TMNT character comparisons

because I fucking love supernatural, and I fucking love the turtles

lets go

======================================

Rise Leo

"The whistle makes me their god."

"I'm an Aquarius. I enjoy long walks on the beach, sunsets, and frisky women."

"Why do I have to be some kind of hero?"

"I think I'm adorable."

Dean Winchester is a well-known anti-hero, and I think Rise Leo shares a lot of those similar traits. They're both snarky, impulsive, and prone to do anything to protect the ones they love, even if it hurts others in the process.

Not to mention...they are the kings of self-sacrifice.

Dean and Leo are reluctant leaders; both thrust into the role by their fathers and making things up as they go. They were both trained by their fathers as skilled warriors and fighters, honed to be weapons of destruction and death. Of revenge. They both feel the burden of leadership; the weight of being responsible for others and the constant emotional drain, but they both embrace it- if begrudgingly at times. They both struggle with self-worth and doubt.

Their siblings are their emotional anchors, motivating their actions to the detriment of their own health. Dean takes so many beatings for Sam, emotionally and physically; and well, Leo...we don't need to talk about it.

Both guys use sarcasm and humor as coping mechanisms for the insane, terrible things that they've gone through; to deflect the seriousness of their lives and keep the mood light in tense moments- to mask their deeper pain. Good luck trying to get either of these guys to be serious in the face of danger or emotional hardship.

Dean and Leo are incredibly loyal to a fault; often charging into danger without a real plan to rescue the ones they love, protecting those they care about with single-minded determination and facing the threat head-on.

They are both riddled with trauma and guilt, especially after the rise movie. Losing loved ones, enduring constant battles, and suffering physical injuries have had a significant impact on them—they are weary, tired soldiers but keep pushing on with a cocky smile and quip, so no one notices the tears.

In their fighting styles, both guys are known to improvise in the moment to get the job done. They've been trained well, and it shows, often using their environments and unconventional weapons.

Dean and Leo both put on a tough exterior, just in different ways. Dean's facade is gruff and full of himself, while Leo's is cocky and flirtatious, but both are designed to keep people at a distance. To not let people in, let them see any vulnerabilities. But behind that exterior, there's a deeply emotional and sensitive side to them that is greatly in need of hugs.

At their core, Dean and Leo are leaders who have stepped up to protect their siblings from the dangers of their worlds, and they just need a freakin hug.

*end rant*

bop to the top: @thelaundrybitch @sophiacloud28 @zombiesnips-blog @4evrdreamin5 @gornackeaterofworlds @the-cauldron-witch @pheradream-15 @iridescentflamingo @scholastic-dragon @xnorthstar3x

[proshippers-against-censorship]

I honestly hate that the world is so filled with this constant need for "Good" "Bad" "Evil" "Harmful" What makes something harmful? If it causes someone physical or emotional pain? But then harming people who have also caused harm is bad, and doing anything to upset people emotionally is harmful Is being harmful immoral? Is it bad? Evil? What makes something evil? Is it when enough people see it as evil? Or is it when some self-proclaimed God above all deems it so? I'm, personally, tired of trying to prove myself to people over made-up, stupid concepts that barely matter in the long run of life. I'm not good, I'm not bad, I'm not evil or immoral but I'm not anything better than that either. I am stuck in a human body, with a human mind, and I therefore am stuck with things like guilt. Humans make mistakes, and I make mistakes, and trying to find something wrong or right in every little thing I do is exhausting, useless, and honestly counterproductive. I wish humans had stayed as animals and hadn't tried to create a society, or religion, or different languages, or concepts, or all of this useless bullshit that just makes everything so very hard. Sorry this is long, I felt this is something that might belong to this account in a manner of speaking, and so.. here it is.

We can never be anything except morally gray. More people need to swallow that fact.

[darklinaforever]

Girl, you are so insanely misogynistic, when a woman is married to a violent and abusive man, she’s completely allowed and justified in cheating on him.

You can support creeps, stalkers, rapists and pedos but draw the line at cheating, lmao.

Literally, Daemon in F&B never abused Rhaenyra emotionally and physically.

The choking scene in 1x10 is completely OCC.

But you buy it anyway because it justifies your hatred of Daemon. Once again, you'll buy whatever hatred against Daemon the show gives and you'll be happy.

Then, like I said not only is the 1x10 scene is OCC but it also demonstrates the terrifying habit of the screenwriters to amplify the violence suffered by women in the GRRM universe without any good script-valid reason, in addition to adding scenes of various abuse and variety non-existent in the basic source material, all for pure shock value on the viewer.

This aspect is criticized as much as the fact that Daemon having strangled Rhaenyra makes no sense with the first 8 episodes of HOTD in relation to the Daemyra relationship, in addition to the fact that it never existed in Fire and Blood, so the source material from which this show is taken.

We are filled with the fact that Daemon strangling Rhaenyra makes no sense with his character and the Daemyra relationship, therefore being OCC in HOTD, and not being present in the source material either. So a pure free invention for the shock of the screenwriters who adds non-existent violence compared to the source material and consequently the empires to stimulate the shock of the viewer.

At no time do we justify Daemon's behavior. On the contrary. But you are unable to understand that.

How the hell does pointing out these crucial things make me a misogynist ? On the contrary, it is HOTD's treatment of female characters that is misogynistic.

I didn't know that it was feminist to add gratuitous violence towards female characters, so you teach me something...

Then, if we are all so against Rhaenyra cheating on Daemon, it has nothing to do with the fact that she is a woman, but simply because once again it does not exist in the source material. And no, Daemon cheating on Rhaenyra in F&B has never been proven and we are just as against Daemon cheating on Rhaenyra.

The strangling scene Daemyra, and the kiss scene between Rhaenyra & Mysaria are just as OCC as each other. We criticize both. Neither should have happened. It's not complicated to understand.

On the other hand, when did I support stalkers, worse rapists ?! (While I literally made a recent post again to take down characters who commit rape...) You have so little argument that you have to lie to be able to send me a request ? You're pitiful. The same thing about pedophiles. When did I support up with pedophiles ? Unless you're trying to say that Daemon is a pedophile and... you're still wrong.

Oops.

Oh and if it's because of my ships such as Sessrin, Sareth or Sebaciel, my god, I have already explained from what angle I ship Sebaciel and that this relationship or Sareth and Sessrin does not were not pedophile ships :

Oh and in case someone tells me the stupidity about Daemon being a groomer again :

Have a good day, you who complete yourself in your stupidity and your wickedness.

[lovesodeepandwideandwell]

ok this is a deeply deeply weird manifesto and i'm sorry but i feel suddenly very burdened to say it so. if you felt like we were friends and i unfollowed you, this is for you. (don't be scared this is not about problems with anyone this is just my mess. that I think is ok to have which is why I'm talking about it)

so I joined tumblr in 2020 when a) the world was isolated b) I had just moved to a new city and was living alone taking Zoom classes in my apartment. what started as a mindless distraction became such a lifeline of connection and friendship! and still such a support as things started to open back up and get busier in 2021, when I was teaching and in class in person but still struggling for close in-person friendships. I know the group dynamic on here has shifted a number of times, as some of you probably experienced from various vantage points. my use of tumblr has shifted too, on and off, as I've needed different things out of it and been in different spiritual and emotional states. and I've kind of come to realize that I probably threw myself in too eagerly in some ways. it was so exciting to have actual friends on here and for them to actually turn into friends in person, that honestly I maybe prized that dynamic too much for what it symbolized over actually valuing the people. I'm sorry for doing that.

anyway, that worked fine for a bit, but as (glory be to God) I've become much more plugged into my in-person community in the last couple years, I've felt more and more emotionally strained. I've taken up a new attitude towards my family that's much more in line with God, but also much more draining as it means I have to just pour out in prayer and love and wait with patient sorrow over some things rather than fighting and defending my perspective as always right and necessary; and then there's the church-related grief my family has gone through over the last year. I've had a very delicate and difficult friendship that pulled up a lot of unresolved stuff from a college situation and felt endlessly wearying at times. I've had another issue from college recur in a way I thought had been healthily resolved years ago. I've had this whole roommate marriage situation that as y'all know is a very weird trial and pressure. My church has been dealing with a strange and tough ongoing struggle that was already stressing me out before I started working there. My small group has been amazing and I've loved connecting with and relying on them more, but that connection also means more fully bearing the griefs of a lot of different people dealing with the different struggles of life. My advisor situation has been so weird and tough, making my academic work really hard, and then this recent church work has been fulfilling but physically and often mentally exhausting. My future location, work, and community is up in the air after a few years of stability. (I really didn't mean to make this a recitation of my woes, but honestly it's really helpful to see it all written out here; helps explain my deep deep exhaustion, I guess.)

If I ever followed you on tumblr, I love you. In a number of different ways. I feel fondness at the thought of you and at your presence; I want to know you more fully; I desire the good for you; and I find my well-being to be, at least a little bit, tied up with yours. That last one is the rub. As I'm sorting through all the callings and duties in my life, trying to identify what counts as changing my tires versus what wears my tires out, I've found that my tumblr dashboard can switch back and forth very unpredictably between one thing and the other. Often it's a delight to come on here and find my friends and the cool things we're showing each other and the joys and sorrows and goofy moments of our lives! But at other times, when what I desperately need is an escape and rest and humor to provide solace from in-person cares, I find myself pricked all over again by the sorrow of the world and the stress of sin--or even just irritated by stuff I find irrelevant or disagree with or don't want to be reminded of.

To be clear, I'm not saying anyone's doing anything wrong on here. The opposite; I love the freedom y'all have to seek out what helps you, whether that's a lot of facts and ideas or a lot of goofy content or recipes or weird TV or music or venting about life or seeking prayer or advice! We all have the freedom and responsibility to determine how to use the tools we have to aid us in pursuing the good, whether the good is a quick laugh or building up virtue. But I think for me, at this point in my life, my duty and calling has swung back towards my in-person connections in a variety of ways, and I have to honor that.

The lie of infinity that the internet offers is just that--a lie. for me, that lie right now is being laid bare in my inability to have infinite care for everyone whose path I cross. I could follow everyone on here whom I'm endeared to, could keep messaging and replying and building relationships, but it would be a lie to think I can offer that love and care to everyone I would like to. In-person friendships are limited by physical proximity and time; online friendships can't be unlimited either. I need to apologize for acting as though they could be, and committing myself beyond my limits; but also, my life has really changed, and I'm not going to be caught either by the lie that online is only worthwhile if it's permanent.

I want to be clear that I value the connections I've had with you. I've loved exchanging mail and phone calls, messaging fun things back and forth, being online at the same time or learning about your day after the fact. Please know, also, that I have gone to war in prayer for you, and I continue to do so. I wish that I knew how to love widely without feeling pulled apart and worn down, by difference and sorrow and sin (mine and yours). I hope God is sanctifying me toward that end. But right now I'm fairly convinced I need to honor my calling to in-person friendships; I need to protect my mind and heart from even little pricks and distractions, so that I can keep my desires in order and use my energy for prayer and Scripture and to do good work and love the people God's made my physical neighbors. I really do love you, and I wish we had infinite time to talk and think together. I'm so excited to be with y'all in heaven forever. And who knows--maybe my life will shift yet again (it's looking likely) and I'll have a ton of spare energy and love and will come sheepishly back looking to connect with you again. We'll see. You deserve love and attention and connection, in person and online, and I'm sorry that--at least as it feels to me--I held out the promise of giving you that and then had to withdraw it.

so. there's all that. My dash is super quiet these days, thwarting my dopamine search but pushing me towards texting friends, towards meditating more fully on Scripture, towards praying over my work and burdens. I hope you can understand and maybe even be glad that, God willing, this is how I'm able and needing to work for the kingdom right now. love you love you