#i hate when i have simple thoughts and then they spiral into a self hate pit

[kuromi-hoemie]

last rb stressed me out lowkey akakska i had an ex like that and it became a self fulfilling prophecy kinda thing..

[dewdrop-collective]

I think a big part of the reason that I went from anti-endo to endo-safe was absolutely due to how starkly different the communities felt.

Anti-endo communities were hard to engage with. Sure, some of them would focus on their support for each other more than their hatred of endogenic systems. And that's great! However, when you are brought together by your dislike of a certain group, you can't help but feel the hate permiate into so much of it. It always happened eventually. Anti-endo communities had such a focus on systems who were "fake" that I couldn't help but worry I was one of them, no matter how much they told me it was "just endos" they were concerned about.

The endo community (at least the parts I've engaged with and were easy to find) were so kind and respected me as a system, no matter how I felt or my plurality presented. Simply knowing we could find joy in our plurality allowed us to strive for so much more than we had thought possible before.

As a traumagenic system, we've improved so much with our symptoms and communication as a result of the positivity and acceptance we recieved. When we joined communities where we could be authenticallly ourselves (no matter what), we came together and faced so much less conflict between each other. And the conficts we did have, we realized that we could solve them together rather than alone.

When you are constantly doubting if you are "actually a system", you start to push the others away, and that made our dissociation and amnesia so much worse. I understand being careful of self-misdiangnosis, it can put you on the wrong path for how you learn to manage your symptoms. At the same time, the sentiment I often heard from endogenic systems when I was struggling with doubt and denial was very simple: "So what if you're not a system?" In short, it was okay to be wrong.

And that was huge for me. I realized that, no matter if I was a system or not, the techniques I used to improve ourselves and communicate with one another beneficial to me. At the end of the day, even if I wasn't a system after all, the skills I had found we invaluble to my health and well-being. So when I fall into denial spirals, no matter what I think about myself, I now know that I don't need to deprive myself of what has helped me, even if it is a "system thing." I don't feel scared to use these skills anymore (even in denial spirals), beacuse the line between what systems and non-systems or singlets can/can't do suddenly wasn't a big deal or a battle of "who can do what."

Our plurality is no longer a burden or a scar to us. It is simply who we are. We've learned so much about each other and ourselves since we've been accepted in full, and since we've learned to accept others. Endogenic communities have helped us (a traumagenic system) probably more than they'll ever know, and we're forever grateful for that.

So thank you, endogenic systems.

[crucialplayer]

Thoughts on moon placements

!! everything is based purely on my experiences with signs, written with no other purpose than to share my observations and be unserious.

Aries moon. Will ask you a question and leave midway through u answering it just cuz little men in their head pushed a new button on the emotions console, inside out style. If they feel some type of way be sure everyone in the room will also feel it. Great at destroying social harmony. 

Taurus moon. Brick wall banging against which you risk irrevocably damaging ur head. Usually deal with stress or any negative emotions by falling asleep. Insanely bad at moving on from anything.

Gemini moon. Find an outlet for your thoughts and ideas and it better not be that one poor friend that is too nice to stop your rambling. Anxiety ride from the moment they wake up till the moment they fall asleep if they actually manage to. Never have a firm stance on anything. 

Cancer moon. If they feel sad they can suck the life out of the air. Feel a lot and usually stop at that. Somehow kinda bad at reflecting. Some of them could really benefit from rationalizing their emotions. Like to reminisce a lot. 

Leo moon. Every day is a Miss Universe contest. Don't understand the concept of putting yourself in someone else’s shoes. Live life like they’re being filmed for a biopic about them. Get offended easily. Having too many ego deaths on a daily basis bless them. 

Virgo moon. Invented anxiety and hating things. Genuinely think they are smarter than everybody but like to ignore the fact that they’ve been stuck in the loop of the same problems for a couple of years. VEry unstable self-esteem. 

Libra moon. Appear very carefree to the point of care actually not existing in their world I think. Like cute things and cute feelings. Dislike ugly things and ugly feelings. Shine best when surrounded by people and are needed by someone. 

Scorpio moon. If mood swings were a moon placement it’d be this one. Cutting ur hair at 3 am moon. Everything is profound and deeply personal. Identity crisis during a bus ride home. Being nonchalant is a hoax. 

Sagittarius moon. 3 minute emotional life cycle. Consider feeling down a random virus they caught somewhere and not a genuine state of being. Cure themself to the natural optimistic disposition by blowing up to someone’s face and proceeding to go with their day unbothered.   

Capricorn moon. Incapable of giving approval or being positive about anything. See three steps forward except only for the situations going wrong. Hence dissociate when they’re supposed to feel happy. The soul leaves their body when entrapped by loud people. 

Aquarius moon. Have ideas about feelings. When exposed to simple emotional stimuli fall into a theoretical spiral. Like to look for the signs and parallels. Without a social circle are like fish without water. 

Pisces moon. Kid lost in the mall vibe. Dreamed a more exciting life and are living it. Need alone time to survive but also kinda hate it?? Always care, would lose at the speed of light in the idgaf war. Do art please. 

[lustfulslxt]

What Are You Doing Step Bro? - Chris Sturniolo

summary : you go on a small trip with your new “family”. you and chris, your stepbrother, test the waters and give into your deepest desires.

warnings : step siblings kink, breeding kink, swearing. think that's it, but probably not. NSFW

a/n : i do not want to hear a single thing about how they're related, it's incest, it's gross, it's weird -- whatever the fuck. there are absolutely no blood relations! if you're not into this kinda thing, simply shut up and keep scrolling while the rest of us get our rocks off :)))))))

--

His wavy brown hair falls perfectly over his face as he packs his duffel bag. The moonlight illuminates his prominent cheekbones. His long eyelashes brush over his cheeks every time his eyes flutter, the cool light making his bright blue irises damn near glow. His sharp jaw clenches every time his mind runs back to this dreaded 'family' trip. His muscly arms flex with every movement he makes. Every so often, his tongue flicks over his pretty, pink lips. Oh, those lips, how badly I want to feel them dance across my skin. I shouldn't be thinking these kinds of things, but I can't help it. The way he carries himself, so confident and sexy.

It's been a year since our families moved in together. Him, his father, my mother, and me. Our parents got married out of the blue. Honestly, I hadn't even seen much of his father before they announced their engagement, so, it was a surprise they had sprung on us. Then, abruptly uprooting us from our own lives just to come together as a supposed family. We're not family.

His father tries too hard, and Chris is just a douchebag. We bicker so much, yet I can't help but feel extremely attracted to him. There's no doubt in my mind, if he wasn't my stepbrother, I would have been pounced. When we're arguing about who's turn it is for the bathroom, sometimes, I imagine locking us in there and jumping his bones. I know I'm not imagining things, there's an extreme tension between us. However, there's nothing I can do about it.

"Have you even started packing?" His deep voice snaps me from my spiraling thoughts.

I scoff, "Of course, I'm not an idiot. I don't wait until the last minute to do things, like you."

He shakes his head, a smirk pulling to his luscious lips. "I make it work, sweetheart. Just cause you like to be the obedient good little girl."

I turn my head away from him to hide the flush in my cheeks, "Don't call me that."

"Which one?" His smirk grows, "Sweetheart? Or good little girl?"

"Don't call me either of them!" I snap, fulling turning my body to the opposite side of the room.

I can feel my skin burning with desire. I mentally curse myself at my bodily reactions to his simple, yet teasing words. He knows what he's doing, and it's driving me mad. I huff a little before walking off in the direction of my bedroom, his faint chuckling being heard before I close my door.

I jump onto my bed, my limbs sprawling out, and look up at the ceiling. My lips curve upwards, a shit eating grin planting itself on my face. God, I hate him. More so, I hate that I don’t hate him. I hate that I want him as bad as I do. It’s not right.

I spend the rest of the night lying in bed, scrolling through various social medias to keep my mind off of the boy in the room right next to mine. It only seems to work half of the time, my stupid brain continuously wanders back to him. Ugh, why would my mother do this to me? She knows how much I lack self control.

—

The next morning, I spend the first couple of hours getting last minute things ready for our trip. Maybe I lied to Chris last night, saying I had already packed. He doesn’t need to know.

I just got out of the shower and into my room, still wrapped in a towel. I sit on my bed, letting myself cool off and air dry a little bit. After a few minutes of doing nothing, I stand up to dry my hair, only realizing my blow dryer is in the bathroom. I groan and make my way back out into the hall, but when I get to the bathroom door, I realize the shower is running. Of course he’d be in there when I need to grab stuff. After a split second of pondering, I decide to just quickly grab my blow dryer and my brush.

Upon opening the door, steam flows out of the bright room, and I can feel the humidity in there. I scurry to the counter, quickly grabbing my things, when I pause. My eyes staring into the mirror, solely focused on the scene behind me. Our shower door is clear, and though it’s foggy, I can still see right through it.

There, Chris is, in all his glory. His body glistens, water steadily pouring down over him. His hair is stuck to his forehead, his head tilted down while he lets the water run over him. His lean body curving in all the right places. My eyes involuntarily follow his figure down, locking right below his waist. My mouth waters at the sight. His dick hangs down, the same color as his lips, definitely above average. Even from far away, I can see the veins running along side it. My mouth slightly parts at the sight.

“You just gonna stand there and stare at me all day, or you gonna get in?” He asks, his head still facing the floor.

I gasp, slightly embarrassed that he caught me staring at him. “Don’t be weird!”

“Says the one looking at me like she wants to take a bite.” He chuckles, finally turning his head in my direction.

My face catches fire, the rosy shade deepening the longer we make eye contact. I force myself to look away, quickly grabbing my things and running out of there. How humiliating.

Shutting myself in my room, I pause and let out a deep breath. Before I can help it, another grin makes its way to my face. Wow, he’s hung. I shake my head, trying to rid my mind of certain thoughts. Why am I like this?

I set my stuff on my desk, plugging the blow dryer in to get to work. Making sure my towel is securely wrapped around my chest, I start to dry my hair, brushing through it as I go. My hair is super thick, so it usually takes a good minute to fully dry and get it how I like it.

The loud machine blasts in my ears, so loud that I hadn’t notice the presence in my room. The feeling of warm fingertips brushing the back of my thigh, right below my towel, causes me to jump and shriek in fear, my towel falling in the process. I quickly turn around to be met with Chris and his infamous smirk. I hurriedly bend down, yanking my towel back up to cover myself, but it’s too late. He already saw everything, and it’s evident on his features.

“What are you doing?” I squeal.

“What?” He asks, feigning innocence. “You can look at me, but I can’t look at you? That’s not fair, is it?”

“Chris.” I say, swallowing my nerves. “What do you want?”

He grins, flashing his pearly white teeth. “I’m not too sure I’m allowed to answer that. But I won’t tell if you won’t.”

I open my mouth to say something, yet fall short of words. I can’t speak, I can’t even think. He licks his lips and steps closer to me, his hand now brushing against the front of my thigh, just below the towel. My breath hitches in my throat, my skin tingling underneath his touch. He flattens his whole palm against my thigh, leaning in even closer to me.

“Chris!” His dad’s voice calls out from somewhere on the farther side of the house.

He tsks, his lips brushing against my ear, “I guess you’ll have to find out another time, sweetheart.”

Without another word, he walks off, leaving me standing there with a slack jaw as I stare into the distance. I’ve never wanted someone as much as I want him. He’s actually going to be the death of me. He makes it so easy to want to be bad.

I swallow, attempting to lubricate my now dry throat, and get back to getting ready. The entire time, Chris and the way his skin felt on mine never leaving my thoughts. In fact, I spent the remainder of my morning fantasizing about what it would be like to have him. All of him. Safe to say, I had to change my panties before leaving my room.

—

It's been a couple of hours since my little run in with Chris. For the most part, I've managed to keep myself occupied to keep him off of my mind. Yet, every now and then, I can feel my thoughts slipping into a steamy abyss filled with erotic fantasies involving my stepbrother. We're all getting ready to leave, taking trips out to the car, filling it with all of our bags and whatnot.

"The resort just called." My mother announces as we all gather at the front door. "Our room is ready for us."

"Splendid! Let's get this show on the road!" Chris' dad cheers, running off to the car with my mom.

Chris and I watch them before looking at each other. A sly smirk pulls to his lips, yet again, and he nods ahead of him. "After you, sweetheart."

I roll my eyes at the nickname and walk towards the backseat of the car. Whistling rings through the air, causing me to snap my head back. Chris is standing in the same spot, looking me up and down with his bottom lip between his teeth.

"Pervert." I mumble, lifting myself onto the seat and start crawling over towards the opposite side of the car.

Before I can even get to my seat, I leap forward with a yelp emitting from my mouth. My head shoots back, my eyes locking with Chris'. He's got that same devilish grin on his face that makes me want to drop my panties.

"What's wrong?" My mom asks from the front seat.

"He-" I start, only to be cut off by Chris.

"She hit her knee on the door."

I glare at him as he climbs in next to me. He shoots me a wink, which I only huff at. I lean over and pinch his arm, causing him to yank it away from me.

"What was that for?" He questions.

"You pinched my ass!" I whisper shout, appalled by his behavior, yet at the same time, turned on.

"Don't act like you didn't like it." He whispers back, his tongue running over his teeth.

I simply shut up, unable to disagree because he's right. I did like it. In fact, I loved it. I roll my eyes once more, annoyance flooding my veins. Not annoyed at him, more so at myself for being so affected by him. It's not right. I close my eyes and lean my head against the window, hoping sleep overcomes me.

I don't know how long it's been before my eyes flutter open, the sound of faint music waking me. My eyes squint, adjusting to the streetlamps that shine as we pass by them. I'm suddenly very aware of a warmth to my right. Looking over, I see Chris sat next to me rather than the opposite window like he was before.

"What are you doing?" I ask, my voice coming out in a low tone.

He looks over at me with furrowed eyebrows, "Minding my business. You should try it sometime, baby."

"Don't be a dick. I just woke up and you're basically sitting on top of me." I scoff, spreading my legs to push his away from me and give myself more room.

That might not have been a good idea. Chris' eyes trail down my body, boring into my parted thighs. I can practically see the gears turning in his head. He, yet again, smirks at me, licking his lips.

He leans into my ear, his warm breath fanning my ear, his voice husky. "Admit it, sweetheart. You'd love it if I was on top of you."

His hand brushes the top of my thigh, his fingertips lightly grazing my bare skin. I have to bite my lip to hold back the breathy moan that threatens to escape due to his words and his touch. When I don't say anything, his hand presses more firmly into me. Very slowly, his hand trails higher and higher, applying the same amount of pressure the whole way up. Today would be the day that I chose to wear a skirt.

My eyes are wide as I watch his hand, my lips slightly parting. I can feel the heat rushing to my face, as well as my core. I feel like I'm on fire. I quickly look at him and notice his gaze hasn't wavered from my face, his brain soaking in my reaction to his movements, trying to burn the image in his mind, so he never forgets it.

A shaky breath leaves my mouth as his hand slides under my skirt, disappearing to do God knows what. I'm stuck in place, not daring to move. I want to see how far he's going to take this; I don't want him to stop. I let out a small gasp as his fingers make contact with my clothed pussy. But just as quick as they're there, a voice moves through the air, and they're gone.

"Are you guys hungry?" His dad asks us, completely oblivious to what his son was doing.

Chris looks at me, awaiting an answer. I gulp, shaking my head, "N-no."

A small chuckle leaves Chris' mouth, his lips brushing against my ear. "I can feel how wet you are. Makes me want to bend you over the console and devour you."

"Oh my God." I mutter, my ears growing hot as I squeeze my legs shut and turn as much as I can to the door.

There's no way I can make it through this trip, absolutely no way. If he keeps this up, I'm going to lose it. I don't even know what he's trying to get out of this. Is he trying to humiliate me? Does he actually want to fuck? I groan, tossing my head back. I'm so screwed.

--

After what felt like the longest car ride of my life, we finally get to our destination. Our parents wanted to stop a get something to eat, so it took even longer to get to the hotel. We make our way inside, bags on top of bags in our hands. After we get checked in, my mom hands me a room key.

"You guys can head up, me and Jerry are going to make a quick pitstop." She informs Chris and me.

I look at her with an 'are you serious?' look, before my eyes subconsciously advert to Chris. He smiles at her and nods, letting them walk off to wherever. I keep my mouth shut and head to the elevators, him following my tail.

We get to the elevator and only have to wait a moment before the doors open. Walking inside, I glance at the room key to confirm the floor level. Without a word, I press the number '6', the doors shutting almost instantly.

"You know-" Chris begins, a slight curve on his lips. "You can lie to yourself all you want, but I can see it all over you. You want me as bad as I want you."

I harshly swallow, looking for the right words to say. Again, I'm left stuck stupid. How does he do this? The simplest statements leave me dazed and practically malfunctioning. He slowly walks over to me, backing me into the wall. I stare up at him, anticipating his every move. His body is pressed firmly against mine, causing me to shiver. His face is millimeters from mine. He lifts his free hand, wrapping it around my neck. My breath catches in my throat, my core throbbing at the small yet extreme gesture.

His fingertips slowly trail upwards, grazing over my chin. His thumb rubs across my lips, putting pressure on my bottom one and gently pulling it down. My lips are parted for just a moment before my bottom lips bounces back after he removes his finger. His hand grasps my jaw, his face inching closer and closer to mine.

"I'm going to destroy you." He whispers against my lips.

Before anything else can take place, the elevator dings and the doors open, snapping me from the trance he always seems to put me in. I quickly compose myself and scurry out of there, following the signs on the walls to get to our room. Once I get there, I swipe the card, running in the second the light clicks green. Chris has to catch the door with his foot, because I was not waiting for him.

Getting in, I take my time to admire the place. Everything looks so elegant and luxury. Since our parents are off doing whatever, I take the liberty to choose my bedroom for the week. The first one I walk into is amazing, and I'm satisfied with it. Tossing my bags at the foot of the bed, I lay back on it, stretching my limbs out. My short-lived peace disturbed when Chris comes strolling in with his bags.

"I already got dibs on this room." I say, pushing myself up on my elbows.

He snickers, "Jokes on you, we're roomies now."

"Excuse me?" I gape at him, "Yeah, no."

"Actually, we are. This is a two-bedroom suite."

"Are you serious right now?" I frown.

He hums, "Mhm. As serious as I was about what I said in the elevator."

My face grows hot, and I have to purse my lips to prevent them from curving up into a smile. I'm actually terrible, because why do I love this?

"We're here!" My mom's voice sounds from the living room of the suite.

I let out a breath, slightly relieved, yet slightly disappointed. I'm so conflicted. I can't help but want all the time in the world with Chris, but also never want to be alone with him. I can feel myself losing control, ready to give into the strong temptation. He's not making it easy either.

"I see you guys picked your room." Jerry grins, peeking his head in with a smile.

"As in we have to share?" I question.

"Yeah. I thought your mom told you."

I don't miss Chris' smirk as he listens to us, clearly enjoying the idea of sharing a room. I don't understand why my mother hates me. How could she sign me up for this without even talking to me about it?

"We're all family now, it's no big deal." I hear her chime in as she rounds the corner.

"Yeah, right." I mutter, my face falling at the simple statement.

It's just a slap in the face, a reminder that Chris and I can never be. Regardless of whatever type of relation, it just can't happen. I'll never see them as family, but my mother clearly does. Maybe it's best not to tempt anything.

"I call the right side." Chris smiles at me, our parents now long gone.

"Nice try. You're getting the floor or the couch." I roll my eyes.

He laughs, "Good one, sweetheart. Admit it, you can't wait to share a bed with me."

I only glare at him, a slight pout on my face.

"Cheer up, baby. Just wait until you see I sleep naked." He mutters in my ear, before leaving.

"Fuck me." I whisper to myself, already knowing I'm in for it tonight.

--

After unpacking my things, I head out into the living room. My mother and Jerry are sitting on the sofa, so I take the loveseat. I sit sideways, kicking my legs up across the rest of it. I cross my arms, relaxing, sinking into the plush cushions. Looking around, I notice the both of them are dressed up. Did we have plans that I'm not aware of?

"Are we going somewhere?" I ask, furrowing my eyebrows.

"Oh, no." Jerry shakes his head, "I'm taking your mom out tonight. You and Chris will have the place to yourselves."

Just as he says that Chris strolls around the loveseat. He lifts my feet and sits down, placing them on his lap. I go to pull back, but his grip on me is firm. Without a word, his hands are kneading the soft tissue of my feet. I look up at him, my eyes almost submissive, cause why is he being like this?

"When are you guys leaving?" Chris asks them. 

"Our reservation is at 8."

I glance at the time on my phone, "It's 7:15 now."

They both gasp in unison, instantly getting up to rush out the door.

"You're leaving?!" I shriek, now realizing I'll be left alone with the devil himself.

"Yes, honey. You'll be fine." My mom pats my arm. "You'll have Chris to keep you company. Help yourselves to whatever."

"Make sure you take care of her." Jerry points a finger at his son.

Chris smirks, eyes locking with mine. "You know I will."

I gulp, my eyes watching them leave as they call out quick 'I love you's'. The sound of the door clicking shut practically rattles my brain, my breathing slightly labored. I feel so nervous, already knowing it's going to be a long night.

"Want to watch a movie?" Chris asks me.

My eyes widen in surprise, that's probably the most normal thing he's said to me all day. He's been super flirty and seductive, and it's working so bad. I've never been so conflicted in my life. I know it's not right, and if anyone were to see what's happening, we'd certainly be locked away, but I can't help it. I'm yearning for him. His sultry words and lustful touches leave me throbbing every single time. I feel like I'm going to explode in his presence.

"I'll take that as a yes." He says, before teasing, "Unless you had something else in mind."

I groan, "Just put something on. I need a water."

I get up and saunter to the kitchen, my insides burning at the thought of what can occur tonight. I feel like it's inevitable. At this rate, if he keeps going, I'm folding like origami. I open the fridge and grab two waters out, immediately opening one and downing half of it. I have to practically mentally prepare myself just to go back in there. Once I do, I notice Chris now sitting in the middle of the loveseat. I choose not to say anything this time and simply sit beside him.

He already has a movie started, so we sit in silence as it plays out in front of us. The entire time, my mind is elsewhere. I can't focus on the movie at all. I keep crossing and uncrossing my legs, feeling uncomfortable. I can't get Chris' words out of my head.

I'm going to destroy you.

Oh, how badly I wish for that right now. His hands caressing every inch of my body. His mouth tasting every bit of skin. His body flush against mine. His dick stretching me in all the right ways, drilling into my sweet spot over and over and over. I have to clench my thighs, the inner turmoil growing. I feel like the air around us is thick, making it almost impossible to breathe. Tension running high between us. Surprisingly, we make it through the movie without any slick remarks or unwarranted touches. Part of me is bummed, yet I force the disappointment down, knowing it's for the best.

"Are you hungry?" Chris asks as we both get up from the sofa.

I shake my head, knowing I won't be able to eat with my current state. "No. I think I'm just gonna shower and hit the sheets."

He nods, "Okay."

I walk into our room, grabbing a towel and heading to the conjoined bathroom. I just need a quick shower to soothe me. The sexual frustration built up in me is almost unbearable, I feel feral. After turning the water on and letting it heat up, I strip from my clothes and get in. I stand underneath the showerhead, the hot water trickling down my skin. I stay there, eyes closed, trying to force the craving for Chris away. After a moment, I quickly wash up, then get out.

The bathroom is foggy, steam wafting through the air. The mirror is covered in condensation, I'm unable to see myself. I dry off, wrapping the towel around my body and heading out into the room. I pause in my steps, seeing Chris sprawled out on the bed.

"Sorry. Didn't think you'd be in here." I mutter, suddenly self-conscious being in just a towel.

"All good, sweetheart." He replies, his eyes scanning over me. "Come join me."

I swallow, "I have to get dressed."

"Come here." He repeats, his eyes dark with what I can only assume is lust. 

I stand still, staring at him. I'm actually contemplating crawling into bed with my stepbrother, naked. There's no way I'm doing this. I keep cursing myself in my head as my feet bring me to the side of the bed that he's lying on. I stand there, looking down at him while he stares up at me. His hand comes out, his fingertips brushing against the hem of the towel, just like before. My heart is beating out of my chest right now, I wouldn't be surprised if it just exploded.

I'm taken by surprise when he swiftly grabs ahold of my wait, pulling me onto his lap. My thighs straddle his, my hands nervously keeping hold of my towel in attempt to keep it secure. However, my efforts prove futile when his hands grab the top of it, slowly unraveling it and letting it fall from my torso. I feel dizzy, my entire chest exposed to him. My stomach tightens, my veins flooded with anticipation.

"You're so pretty." He whispers, his fingers running over my abdomen.

"Thank you." I whisper back, my desire for him taking over me completely.

I can't think of anything else except for this moment right now, and what's bound to take place. His hands run up my arms and I can feel the goosebumps littering my skin. My breathing is erratic, I can't focus.

"Do I make you nervous?" He asks, his head tilted slightly.

I shake my head, unable to form words.

"Are you lying to me?"

My mouth has run dry. I can't even speak. My mind is hazy with lust. I want him so bad. I can feel the wetness pooling in between my legs, my core aching for his touch. He licks his lips as his eyes rake over my body. His hands run over my shoulders and down my chest, inevitably taking hold of my breasts. I can't help the whimper that falls from my lips. Finally. He grips the plush skin, squeezing gently yet firm. He moves them in circular motions, his palms applying just the right pressure to my sensitive buds.

"So perfect." He mumbles, his voice raspy.

My head lolls to the side, indulging in the feeling of his hands on me. My eyes flutter closed as he continues to knead them. A gasp slips from me when I feel his warm, wet mouth wrap around one of my nipples. My back involuntarily arches into him, his face full of chest. His touch becomes hungrier, his mouth now harshly sucking while his fingers work the opposite tit. Soft moans escape my mouth, my pussy throbbing for him.

He pulls away from my chest, his hands gliding up my back. I can feel his bulge beneath me, and I have to fight the urge to grind against it. He suddenly pulls me down, an abrupt moan emitting from my throat as the quick movement causes his dick to rub against my clit. His hand grabs ahold of my jaw, pulling my face into his.

He stares at my face, his eyes trying to read my emotions. "Say you want this."

I nod.

"Say it."

"I want this." I reply, my voice quiet yet sure.

With that, his lips smash into mine. Our mouths move together, hungry and feverish. Our tongues fighting for dominance, taking turns exploring one another's mouths. Our heads turn every which way, allowing more access. Our teeth clash together, saliva practically dripping out of our mouths. My hands run through his hair while his run along my body, pulling me impossibly closer.

Without one swift motion, I'm lying on my back with Chris towering over me. My towel is now completely removed, lying next to us on the bed. His hand turns my head to the side, his mouth now working on my neck. His tongue licking over the skin, teeth biting down, sucking every part. My breathing is quick, my body tingling with a burning sensation, desperate for more.

"Chris." I breathe out in a whine.

He hums, "Mm, I knew you couldn't resist me."

"Please." I whine again.

"Begging me like such a good girl, just like I said." He smirks against my skin, moving down my chest.

My hands grip at the back of his shirt, tugging at it, wanting to feel his skin on mine. He gets the hint and sits up, removing it with ease. His hands move down to his sweats, yanking the drawstring loose. In one quick movement, he's left in his boxers. I can see his dick fighting against his boxers, begging to be released. I can't help but reach out and palm him through the cloth.

He tosses his head back with a low moan, "Fuck."

His hand reaches forward, spreading my legs open for him. My pussy on show, leaking with arousal. He's practically drooling at the sight before him. His fingers trail up my thigh in an agonizingly slow pace, leaving my hips thrusting up for just the slightest touch.

"So needy." He smirks, "Such a naughty girl."

Finally, his fingers make contact with my aching clit, eliciting a long moan from me. He rubs it in slow circles, making my body tremble with every movement. He stops for a brief moment as he plunges a finger into my entrance, my body jolting from the sudden sensation.

"So, fucking wet." He groans in contentment.

His finger continues pumping in and out me with his thumb rubbing my clit, and I can't help but grind into his hand. It feels so good, but I want more. To my dissatisfaction, he pulls away, leaving me to cry out at the loss of pleasure. I watch as he pulls his boxers off, tossing them with his sweatpants. His fully erect dick flies up, slapping his stomach. His tip is an angry red, needy for stimulation. I saw it in the shower, but now, up close and personal, I am clenching, ready to wrap around him.

His hands grip my hips, flipping me onto my side. He takes ahold of my thigh, hiking it up for better access. His opposite hand grabs ahold of his cock, stroking it before rubbing the tip through my folds. I bite my lip, my stomach tightening, bracing for penetration, my pussy desperate for it. He slowly sinks into me, fully bottoming out. My jaw falls slack, my mouth vocalizing a drawled-out moan. He shudders inside of me, his eyes closing at the feeling of my pussy snugly swallowing him.

His thrusts are slow and hard, setting a rhythm. One of my hands clench the sheets, the other one rubbing his stomach. My eyes squeeze shut, the pressure instantly building in my stomach. I've been waiting for this all day. His free hand runs up my back and around my chest, harshly squeezing my tit. Lewd moans fill the room; him grunting with every deep thrust, constant whines falling from my lips.

"Taking me so well. Just like a good little slut." He says, his hand moving from my boob to my neck.

His strokes pick up in speed, the bed shaking with every thrust. The knot in my stomach continues to grow, my orgasm sneaking up on me faster than ever. He's fucking me so good. I can't hold back the noises he's pulling out of me. The tip of his dick jams into my sweet spot with just the right amount of force. I'm unraveling fairly quickly. It's so wrong but it feels so right.

"Yes, right there." I cry out, clenching around him. "F-fuck, fuck, fuck."

"You close, baby? Gonna cum all over my cock, hm?" He groans out, his body leaning over mine.

"Fuck y-yes. God, please don't stop." I moan, my loud voice bouncing off the walls.

He starts fucking into me even faster, the pleasure almost overwhelming. "I don't plan on it."

My legs shake below him, my knuckles gripping the sheets until they're white. His breath on the back of my neck, his moaning in my ear, both sending me over the edge. My body convulses as euphoria takes over. Pornographic moans leave my mouth as I clench around him, letting go. My juices flowing out, completely coating his dick and dripping down the both of us.

"You feel so good." He whines, "Made just for me."

The bliss is at an all-time high, my mind completely fogged with lust for him. I never want this night to end.

"Mm, want you to fill me up." I whine, pushing back onto him, meeting his thrusts.

His hips sputter as he moans, "Yeah? Filthy little slut wants her stepbrother's baby in her?"

I can't even respond, my mouth hung open as screams leave it. It happens so suddenly, another wave of pleasure washing over me at his words. My hand clings to him, wanting to feel all of him. I'm trembling underneath him as my second orgasm hits. His groans grow louder as his thrusts grow sloppy. With just a few more strokes, his body is heaving over mine as he empties himself inside of me. He pumps a few more times, before completely pulling out and sitting back. Both of us struggle to catch our breaths, exerted from that entire moment.

Suddenly, I'm crying out again as he shoves two fingers into me, pushing his cum back in. "Aht, aht! Can't have that."

I'm still shaking with aftershocks when he lies down beside me, his fingers making their way to my lips and into my mouth. My tongue glides over them, sucking off our mixture. He pulls them away with a groan and turns my head towards his. He places another kiss on my lips; hard and passionate.

"We should probably get dressed." I breathe out after a minute.

"No, just stay like this for a little bit longer. I'll make sure it's taken care of before they get back." He whispers, pulling me into him.

I want to protest, but I'm tired and the thought of sleeping in his arms makes my stomach flutter. So, that's what I do.

--

a/n : ah bye why do i need this so bad? hope you like it! if it's not for you, just shut up k thanks xx

[wildflowerblurbs]

A Painful Step Towards Healing | Isaac Rhoades

Isaac Rhoades x GN! Reader

CW: mentions of past abuse/unhealthy relationships, trauma caused by abuse/unhealthy relationships, yelling, arguments, hurt/comfort

-

Trauma isn’t a simple thing, no matter how much you wished it was.

You’re in a committed relationship with the man who gave you a second chance at life. You wake up in his arms without the fear of having your belongings thrown out by the landlord before kicking you out for not paying rent on time. You eat your meals with him without uncertainty of when your next meal will be or needing to ration out your food to last weeks at a time. You live your life knowing that you have a future with him. You not only have a family with him, but a family that loves you.

You’ve escaped the hell that you were living, so why? 

Why are you currently hyperventilating on your shared bathroom floor? 

Why can’t you stop the tears that are blurring your vision and staining the carpet below you?

Why couldn’t you keep your composure when the man that you love so much lost his temper and raised his voice at you?

Isaac is not my father. He’d never hurt me. Isaac is not my father. He’d never hurt me. 

You replayed these phrases in your head like a mantra, scolding yourself for even needing to make that clarification to yourself. Isaac had been having a stressful day. People snap sometimes and it’s ok. It’s ok. It’s ok. 

It was your fault anyway. You’d insisted on having dinner with him when he’d told you that he’d skip dinner to continue working on a particularly hard case he’d gotten recently. You kept pushing when you shouldn’t have. It was your selfishness that got you into this situation. It was your fault. 

Perhaps that’s why you retreated into the bathroom after promptly apologizing for everything yet nothing at all. You weren’t even sure of what you’d said to him. As soon as you felt the panic spike through your body, you’d excused yourself as quickly as you possibly could. 

It took everything within you to stay quiet as the fears and feelings you often experienced as a child rushed back to you. Issac knew that your childhood wasn’t the happiest but you rarely discussed the details. You didn’t want him to feel like he needed to be careful around you. He always looked so fond when he talked about his mother’s traditions or his father’s teachings and you didn’t want to take that away from him. Truthfully, you weren’t even triggered by his experiences. His parent’s love for him had nothing to do with the unhealthy love your parents had given you. There was no reason why it’d bother you. There’s no reason why anything Isaac did would incite these feelings within you. Or at least you thought. 

This wasn’t even the first time he’d raised his voice at you. He’d been pretty agitated when you insisted on pursuing a relationship with him despite the dangers. He’d been harsh to you before when talking about his past was still considered to be none of your business. There was no reason as to why his anger was affecting you so much now and you hated yourself for reacting this way. 

Here you were, spiraling with thoughts of self-hatred and fear. 

Will he leave me if I’m too annoying? 

I should’ve left him alone, now he hates me.

He hates me. He hates me. He hates—

A sudden urgent succession of knocks on the door interrupts your thoughts. The door opens before you’re able to compose yourself or tell him to give you a moment. Telling by the worried look of his face and the speed at which the door opens, you figure that he’d been knocking for longer than you had realized. 

Time seemed to stop the moment your tear-filled eyes locked with his. You wanted to crawl into a hole from how mortified and embarrassed you felt at being caught for overreacting to such a small thing. 

You quickly get up from the floor, wiping the tears from your eyes with shaky hands. 

“I apologize for barging in. You weren’t responding and I… I was worried something had happened to you. It seemed like you were struggling to breathe; I didn’t know what to do.”

Before he has the chance to take your shaky hands into his and inspect your current state, you move away.

“Y-you don’t need to apologize. I’m sorry for causing such a—“ 

“No, I am the one who needs to apologize. I shouldn’t have taken out my frustration on you when you were only trying to care for me. I should’ve thought about how my words would affect you. Please don’t ignore your own feelings. You more than have the right to feel upset right now. It’s only natural that you would be.” 

Shock was the only explanation for your sudden collapse. The shock of hearing the words you’d always wanted to hear from those that had hurt you from the one person who had only given you love destroyed the last bit of composure you had. 

Isaac joins you on the floor, bringing you close to his chest and holding you in the warmest embrace you’ve ever experienced. His hand rests in your hair, stroking it gently as you cry in his arms. His case didn’t matter right now, nor did anything else that could possibly require him to leave your side in this moment. He’d needed you so many times in the past. It was his turn to return the favor. 

“I- I was so scared,” you managed to speak in between sobs. Your hands found themselves holding onto his shirt, finding security in the firmness of your grip of him. 

Your actions only made Isaac pull you closer, “It’s ok, everything is going to be ok.” He lifts your chin, his eyes meeting yours, “I will do everything in my power to make sure of it.” 

This wasn’t the first time you’ve heard such words and promises from someone, but for the first time in your life, they don’t ring hollow. He wasn’t just trying to placate you. He meant every single word. 

You hold his gaze for a moment, deciding that you’ve hidden yourself away for far too long. He was Isaac Rhoades, the man you decided to spend the rest of your life with. The man who you trust with your life, who gave you a second chance at life. If there was anyone in the world who you could trust to handle your own demons, it was certainly him.

“…Isaac…have you ever wondered why I left home?” 

[bumblebeesfromvenus]

Simon relationship hcs ♡

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

I may have gone a little off the rails, and this sort of turned into a little bit of a psychoanalysis for Simon lol

I just had a lot to say, okay

Hope you like it <3

The ask is here ♡

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

The only way I can ever see Simon getting in a relationship is through friendship.

First of all, no one would realistically ever approach him, he's a scary looking fella. I know I would be scared shitless lmao (love you, simmy)

The tall, dark and broody aura with cold brown eyes, almost like the freezing dirt you'll be buried in if you look for a second too long. Or that's what it feels like. The skull mask doesn't help either, it's sort of odd, but who are we to judge, right?

I know a lot of people say he doesn’t know how to talk to people, and while I think that is definitely true to an extent, I also think that he just doesn't want to. He doesn't see the point in it, and that's the thing.

This man can't do anything without reason. There needs to he a reason or a point to doing something, otherwise it's just a waste of time in his eyes.

The only exception is going out with the boys or hanging out occasionally. I think he very much feels like he doesn't deserve happiness, so any simple pleasures are immediately shut down.

I mean, this man is literally the king of self-destructive behavior.

He locks himself away on leave, again, only does what he needs to on base (or what he feels he needs to), and that's it.

But he's also very responsible, so I don't think he'd ever do anything self destructive wise that would be considered irresponsible.

He takes care of himself on a physical level, and he needs to, but his mind is an absolute train wreck. His job keeps him in check, and that's good.

Otherwise, he'd be down a hole the size of the Mariana trench.

He chronically needs to have noise playing. Whether that's music, a movie, or just the dishwasher running, just something. He would spiral so fast if he had time to be alone with his thoughts, so he keeps himself busy.

In comes Riley (the best boy). Simon has something to do, to busy himself with, and he actually gets outside sometimes because of the pup. He's got a cuddle buddy, a weighted blanket, and a steady presence in his life all at once. Dog of the year award goes to Riley.

Anyway, you somehow got into their little circle. Probably through Johnny or Kyle. They start taking you along to the nights at the pub or the football games at one of their flats because you're fun to hangout with. They like to have you around and let me tell you, Simon is not thrilled at first.

How dare you just inject yourself into their group, and come along during their hangouts. He's annoyed. Not at you, necessarily, but just that he needs to deal with change now. Which isn't usually a problem considering he needs to be kept spontaneous and alert for his job, but once he's away from that, change is like his worst enemy. He hates it.

Things are fine like this, good almost, why do they need to change? He's very cold and sharp with you for the first few months, he just needs time. He sees that you're not a threat after a while.

You didn't disrupt their dynamic as much as he thought you would. You're a fun addition, but you don't steal all the attention from his friends. You know when to back off. After a hard mission, they all need to decompress, and they just can't guarantee they won't snap at you and hurt your feelings.

You respect it, and with a quick "don't be stupid. Stay safe" text the conversation is done.

You don't ask about their job. You don't really care what they do, and they obviously don't feel comfortable telling you too much, but as long as they come back safe, you're good.

You bring a more caring presence into the group, something which they all need desperately. Simon is caught off guard. He never expected something like this, but it feels... nice. We all know you melted his cold heart and he's putty.

But not an overexaggerated amount, just right where he can crack a smile or huff a laugh, and it doesn't feel weird. He even starts to hang out one-on-one with you. It starts off somewhere in public, a cafe or the local pub. The idea of coming to your flat is still a little uncomfortable inside his chest, but you don't push. You're just happy to spend time with him.

And then, out of nowhere, he invites you to his flat. All on his own, comfortably, and you have to stop yourself from being too excited that you finally cracked him.

Simon does feel a little nervous when you first get there, but you're so chill about it (you're probably freaking out on the inside as well), and you just hang out like you normally would.

Riley is so excited to have a new friend!!! No matter how old he is, he jumps around like a puppy, overjoyed to get a visitor.

The second he sees how you're acting with Riley, he's smitten. Not necessarily in a romantic way just yet. You're giving him scratches and pets and talking in The Doggy Voice and it makes Simon's heart all fuzzy.

Riley is essentially his best friend and family, having been there through some of his worst times and to see how infatuated his pup is with you makes him so happy.

I mean, now you just have to come over more often, right?

He always talks about how Riley misses you (all an excuse, he misses you, but he won't say that) and that you need to come over to hangout soon.

When he's deployed again, he leaves Riley with you. That's the equivalent of someone trusting you with their newborn child for Simon, but he trusts you fully. You've earned his trust, respect, and adoration. (Cue Simon giving Riley a serious pep talk to keep you safe but it all slides off, Riley's got smooth brain)

When he comes by to pick Riley up and he steps inside your home for the first time, he gets smacked in the face with a feeling he can only describe as home. It's so warm and cozy and you.

That's when he knows he's fucked. He never wants to leave. It's so much better here, with you and Riley, than his flat. Sure, he can call that home too, but not in the way he can call you home.

It's a very subtle love that slowly starts to bubble up. He enjoyed being your friend, you made him feel normal for once in a while. He was just a guy with a job and friends. Not lieutenant Riley. But how could he have not fallen for you? He wants to be more than just friends, he wants to be yours.

He's never felt more taken care of than when he's with you, and he's slowly letting himself feel the good things again. And you're the best thing. For him and Riley. The pup probably thinks you're his mum already tbh

He gets touchier too. An arm slung around your shoulders, your thighs touching when he's sitting next to you or brushing his fingers against yours. He craves your touch so bad, he even starts hugging and the boys absolutely lose their minds

He feels like you're soothing all that has ever made him feel pain or weird. So, basically, he's utterly in love with you. But he will never ever say a word about it. His fear of your potential rejection almost paralyzes him.

He can't lose you and he'd rather stay silent about his feelings than mess up what you have.

Now, the boys are trying to get into his thick skull that you're also head over heels for him, but he's so far in denial, you could call him a crocodile ( hehe de-nile, get it?)

You confess. Your willpower just can't rival Simon's, and you crumble. How much you like him, how amazing he is in your eyes and how when he came to pick up Riley you almost felt like a little family.

And at that, he breaks. He doesn't know what he's doing, he's never been in love before, he's walking in the dark but he can't care about that when it feels so right. I imagine he probably just stares at you for a while while you're sweating buckets because he doesn't know what to do.

Does he say something? Does he kiss you? Does he hug you? Does he propose-

He's so caught up in his head, playing all kinds of different scenarios that he forgets that he didn't answer you.

Simon gently pulls you into a hug and you can feel the love oozing from his touch. He's not a man of many words, so all he says is a quiet

"be mine."

And the deal is sealed, ladies and gents!!! You just hold each other for a while, feeling the relief wash over your hearts.

Simon loves so fully it makes my heart all fuzzy just thinking about it.

It may not seem like that to other people, but he loves you so much it's insanity. Now, he's not about any grand gesture but the little things that will make your life that much easier. Of course you do get the occasional bouquet and don't get me started on the dates he takes you on, but he will do the dishes after dinner.

He'll fold the laundry. He'll feed the dog. He'll sweep the living room. He'll grocery shopping. And if you're someone who tends to get a messy room very quickly (like me lol) He'll help you set up a system to keep it functioning and neat.

Simon brings the structure, helping you get through your days better while you show how him to enjoy things.

The little things. Like the little dance parties you have with Riley. Like the late nights with the moon shining down on you. Like the sunny day in the park that led to the best afternoon nap ever. You balance each other perfectly, and Simon loves that about you.

You loosen him up. He's still Simon, and that's perfect, but seeing him crack a smile more often doesn't only warm your heart, but the ones of his boys, too.

He's not big on PDA but at home he has now issues with showing how much he loves you. A kiss here, a peck there- he can't ever pass up an opportunity to kiss you.

Now jealousy.... I do think he gets a little more secure the longer you are together but he will still kill anyone with his stares that dares to even look at you suggestively.

He's very possessive. He's always been possessive, not wanting to share with his brother or being very particular about who gets to touch his things. But you? Christ, that's another level. You belong to his heart, and not in a weird objectifying way. You chose him despite everything that he was and is and you're willingly his so of course he won't let you go as long as you want to stay.

It still baffles him everytime when some bloke comes up to you, with Simon obviously being pressed to your side, and asks for your number. He always had the problem of being noticed a lot with his size and now he's suddenly air??

He'll step in everytime, pulling you closer and wrapping himself fully around you. Simon will definitely say something as well, but his absolute favorite thing is when you beat him to it.

"I'm taken, Thank you. I'm very happy with Simon. Say hello, Simon!"

You smile innocently at the drunk man in front of you just to make it extra awkward and Simon has the biggest grin underneath his mask before he presses a kiss to your temple.

What you didn't see was the death glare Simon shot him, making him scramble away to presumably bother another poor woman.

He can get overly jealous if you don't get the hint sometimes, but he would never ever take that out on you. He'll be grumbly for the day until you can get out of him what the problem is.

But at the end of the day, you're in his bed and that's all the reassurance he needs.

He loves cuddling you. He'll knock out in seconds if you're in his arms or vice versa. He prefers to be the big spoon because he needs you pressed against his chest, but he won't deny you the pleasure of being his lovely jetpack.

Simon LOVES to get kissed on the cheek. It's so sweet to him, a little token of your appreciation or a good luck smooch. It makes his nose scrunch up slightly and it's the cutest thing ever.

For you, he adores placing little pecks on your nose. Mainly because you complain that it tickles and he thinks you look adorable, but nothing can beat your lips on his.

Holds your hand in his sleep. It's more of a subconscious thing, but it's so endearing. You're not sure if Simon knows that he does it. You haven't told him. You're just gonna keep this sweet little secret to yourself.

You'll end up getting married because he knows you're the one. He doesn't want anyone else ever.

You're all he needs and wants.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

If you want my NSFW hcs on Simon, just pop into my inbox and ask for it!! This post is already so long, I'll make a separate one for the spicy stuff if you want it :)

More Cod works and other stuff --> 🐝💫

~Fi 🩷

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

[cheri-2047]

Helloooo do you write for aventurine from hsr?

If you do, would it be possible to request an aventurine x gn reader where he tries to comfort the reader who has religious trauma? If that's a little too complicated then something like aven trying to comfort the reader when they were suddenly reminded about their trauma from parents.

I'm really just desperately trying to make myself feel better 😭 anw the decision is still up to you <3 I hope you have a wonderful day and I hope that you stay safe and healthy, take care!! 💞💐

IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG 😭 I LOST MOTIVATION TO WRITE ANYTHING 😞😞 I’d love to write this for you but I’m not so sure on what religious trauma is so I focused on reader getting triggered by their parents instead, I hope that’s okay. Please don’t hesitate to comment if I mischaracterized him, this is based off what I see online since I don’t play hsr, thank you!

Aventurine comfort:

TAGS: slight mentions of self harm, hair pulling (out of stress) angst, fluff and comfort at the end

CHARACTERS: Aventurine

You were on your way home after meeting up with your parents. It’s been awhile since you last saw them so you thought you’d pay them a visit.

They welcomed you with open arms and were very glad that you came over, your mother excitedly sharing new stories of what’s happened while you moved away and your father just simply listening to you two.

Everything was smooth sailing, you had fun with them, sharing laughs and all until it all went down the drain.

“haha…” you chuckled it off. You hated hearing about the incident that had happened. Your parents brushed it off by now as a joke, but to you it was anything BUT that.

you continued to catch up to them, holding up a smile to get away the memories that ran through your brain.

stop stop stop

You clenched your hands tightly, continuing to laugh along with the “jokes” your parents made. You couldn’t stop thinking about it now, everything that happened, everything that you worked so hard to forget, all of it GONE just because of a few simple words.

“I might be home a bit late sweetheart, please don’t stay up waiting for me. Love you”

Your phone buzzed, a message from your boyfriend, Aventurine.

perfect.

You took this to your advantage, deciding it was a good excuse.

“Ah I need to go home, sorry mama, urgent things at work.”

You made a white lie. You knew it was a bad thing to lie, it would make you a sinner, but you would do anything right now to get away from that so called ‘home’

“I hope you visit again, we love you”

Your father kissed you on the forehead, before both waving off.

You quickly shuffled to your car, driving as fast as you can away from your parent’s home. You were thankful for your boyfriend’s text, not only can you have alone time but you also were able to lie with getting home.

You drove faster, the music louder, anything to try and get the flooding memories away. You clenched the wheel tightly, taking rough turns, completely ignoring your surroundings.

shut up shut up shut up shut up

please.

You reached your home, running to your bedroom, your safe place.

You opened the television, had your snacks around you and all but for some reason, nothing would work. The thoughts still lingered at the back of your mind, the unspoken memories, the things you’ve tried to hard to forget.

Little did you know, you ended up spiraling. Your eyes on the TV, your mind elsewhere. It all came back too quickly, too much for you, the way you were treated, the rules you were forced to have, the life you so desperately wanted to escape, and it felt like you were back. “…y/n… y/n? Hey hey-“

you got started by the sound, only to realize you had been pulling your hair a lot,

“ah- y-you’re back earl-“

He wrapped his arms around you tightly, Aventurine pulled your hands away from your hair,

“Shh, shh… there there”

he rubbed his hand on your back, you leaned into his touch, before looking down to see blood on your fingernails. “What happened?”

Aventurine pulled away, cupping your cheeks and rubbing your hand, careful not to touch the skin you picked.

You didn’t even notice it, but you were crying. You had tears run down your face as if your eyes were waterfalls.

“I visited my parents today”

“mh…did they do anything?”

“they just…mentioned something and I got triggered and started spiraling I guess…”

as you spoke, aventurine started to wrap some bandages around your fingers.

“What did they say?”

(cutting this part off here so you can like…. Explain to him ykyk. He doesn’t know much of your trauma so u explain that you went through that before)

“Oh sweetheart…”

he wiped your tears and kissed you on the cheek, before hugging you and hurrying your face into the crook of his neck.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t know that’s ever happened, why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to remember…”

he frowned and pulled you closer,

“I’m sorry…. If you’re up to going to your parents again, I’ll be here to accompany you. If you don’t, then that’s alright, I understand.”

he kisses the top of your head multiple times, hoping to sooth you with his affection.

He intertwined his hand with yours as he continues to speak reassuring words. “I am always here for you, alright my dearest? If you feel triggered by anything ever again, please don’t hesitate to tell me. I’m never ‘too busy’ for you or any of that. I love you”

you smile as he tells you how he has your back and how he will never leave and swear to always protect you. As you stop crying, he starts to clean up the snacks you left and comes back with more of your favorite foods.

“I got some before I left work”

he chuckles, lying next to you on the bed as you two stayed in the comfort of each others arms.

“I love you, I always will and I will never stop.”

He presses a kiss to your lips, pulling away to see your smile, which makes him smile as well.

A/N: OKAY… so I tried to make it like him as much as I could, I think he’s the type to gen take things seriously in scenarios like this, and the part where he like… pushes(?) your head to his neck for comfort, that means a lot since I hc him to not like being touched there or anyone touching him there either, so yeah. Thanks for requesting and I hope this is ok!! Comments are appreciated (for tips, if I mischaracterized or just to say hi) I hope ure okay dude, if you want more of these feel free to request

[devildomditzy]

Aaah!!!!! I’m so excited for this!!!! Would it be alright if I requested “I need you beside me.” ❤️‍🩹🥺 for Mammon? I love all your work, and I can’t wait to see everything that comes out of this event!!!!

Thank you very much ❤️ I hope I make you cry a lil

(this one got way too long)

TW for gore, spoilers for lesson 16

Also should have mentioned - ooc mammon bc i want to see him get angry

——————————————————————————

Things changed after that day. As much as you hate to admit it, seeing your lifeless, cold, dead body in your best friend’s arms really does fuck with you.

You became fearful, jumping at loud noises and avoiding the attic. A simple hand laid on your shoulder could provoke the most blood curdling scream, and necklaces were out of the question. If you felt even the lightest of touches around your throat, you’d panic into fight or flight mode.

And it wasn’t just you that changed. No, every brother personality’s shifted ever so slightly, and while you made a point not to mention it, you can’t say you were that fond of their new…‘quirks’ so to speak.

They became softer, too afraid to set you off into a spiral of memories that’s hard to come back from. They made sure you were never alone, a trait that while comforting, was becoming extremely bothersome. They watched you, ever present like hawks just to be sure you were still alive, you were still breathing, you were still with them. And even more so, they watched Belphie.

You’re trying to be nice, fuck, you’re really trying your best. Now that the news that you’re Lilith’s descendant has washed over, Belphie has taken a new, rather innocent interest in you. When he smiles that sweet, gentle smile at you, asking if you want to take a nap together, all you can see if his twisted, self righteous smirk, his lips upturned in laughter as he squeezed all the life out of you, crushing your windpipe and slashing a large, deep, sickening gash along your chest, reaching down to your stomach. It might have not happened to this version of you, but since Barbatos merged the times lines, it might as well have. You have all the memories, all the burning feelings, all the swelling pain. And now you had to learn to live with that.

Progress was being made, you told yourself, in order to keep spirits up, not letting yourself wander in your head too much. Hey, just last week you stopped crying when he was in the same room! You could tell it made Beel happy to see you two interact. He’d try to offer to sit in on movies and naps to get you two acclimated to each other, but you just couldn’t . It’s not only your mentality holding you back, there was a physical force stopping you form getting any closer. Quite literally whenever the opportunity would arise, Mammon would grab your wrist in a vice grip, pulling you behind him and answering for you.

“They’re not interested in anything that has to do with ya.”

His body language screamed protection, and the gaze he shot the youngest reminded everyone he’s the second most powerful avatar. Honestly, you were thankful for it. You didn’t want to hurt Beel’s feelings, but the thought of being in a room with Belphie without Mammon made you want to throw up.

Group activities have been attempted. Family movie nights were once again ago, but the second born made sure the two of you were the farthest possible distance from his younger brother while still being able to see the screen. The atmosphere always awkward, intense, suffocating. You noticed Belphegor’s gaze reach you a few times, a small smile on his lips.

It was almost unbearable, if not for Mammon.

It once was rare that you felt Mammon’s aura become dark and foreboding, so rare that it took so long for you to see his demon form, the first time being at the ball Diavolo held. It was the first time you’d seen one of them like that and your brain didn’t scream in fear. Hell, he was the only brother who hadn’t tried to kill you. The amount of restraint he usually had was commendable.

That was all out the window now.

Mammon stared across the room at his brother, eyes throwing a wordless threat towards him.

“Dontcha wanna watch the movie Belphie? Ya keep starin’ at them yer gonna lose the plot.”

You’ve never heard him so emotionless.

So cold.

So threatening.

Unsurprisingly though, the youngest had decided he had enough of your protector.

“You don’t own them, Mammon”, Belphie grumbled under his breath.

“What did ya just say?”, Mammon shot back, his voice laced with venom, daring Belphie to answer him.

“I said you don’t own them!” The seventh born raised his voice now, tone matching Mammon’s in a lethal contest. “I said I was sorry! I’m trying to make up for lost time, but I can’t if you keep being their guard dog! We’ve barely seen them all week!”

The rest of the room stayed surprisingly quiet at first, simply observing the exchange in anticipation, waiting to see who would make the first move, if any move at all.

“Make up for lost time? Ya wanna make up for lost time when you almost made us loose them for good?”, you notice Mammon begin to clench and unclench his fists in what you have come to learn is an attempt to calm down.

“Ya better shut yer mouth before I shut it for ya. Permanently.”

This was going to break bad any second.

“How about I choke ya out till I cave your throat in? Slit ya down the front until you’re bleedin’ out and cryin’ for mercy, huh? How’s about I make you feel like they did, kiddo?”

Your eyes widen and shoot towards the only source you know who could stop this. As if waiting for your cue, Lucifer stands up and puts a hand to Mammon’s shoulder.

He leans in and whispers something harsh, quietly so the others can’t hear but loud enough for you to take in.

“Enough. Mammon, I understand your anger, but I will not allow anymore deaths on this property.”

When the second born does not seem to back down, he continues,

“Don’t you think they’ve seen enough carnage?”, he gestures towards you, and the action makes Mammon falter.

“Now, take them back to their room and calm down. If this happens again, I won’t be so forgiving.”

Mammon hangs his head, making his expression unreadable to you, huffing out shaky breaths before wordlessly grabbing your shoulder and ushering you out of the room.

You now find yourself seated on your bed, watching him pace relentlessly. He’s talking to himself under his breath, but you’ve never been good at reading lips. Usually between the two of you there’s never a dull moment, never a lull of silence. Right now though, you’ve got it. And it’s scaring you.

“Mammon?”, you question cautiously, trying to get his attention. You can tell he heard you by the way he jolts, but chooses to ignore you to continue his circling.

“Mammon, please?”

He stops, back facing you. At least he’s listening.

“I…”you struggle to find the right words. “I really appreciate you looking out for me.”

With that, he finally turns to face you, cobalt and golden irises finally locking onto yours. He looks pissed, but you can tell he’s trying to calm down for your sake.

“And I really appreciate you hanging out with me all the time…but, I don’t want that to get in the way of the relationship you have with your brothers.”

“Nuh Uh. No no no no no, nope. Don’t blame that idiot’s actions on yerself,” he sighs, grabbing you by the shoulders.

He kneels down now, meeting you at eye level.

“Listen, okay? And listen good cause I’m only gonna say this once. Our family’s problems shoulda never became yer own, got it? None of this is yer fault. Just…you were kinda… how should I put it…wrong place wrong time?”

“So you’re saying it would have been better if I wasn’t picked as an exchange student?”

“NO!”, he winces once realizing how loud that came out, with a speed that needed to cut off that line of thinking any further.

“But you guys have killed humans before? You even talked about eating them, and I can’t tell if you’re joking or not, but Beel definitely has, so why do you care about me? All of this started because you have to protect me, you’re honor bound and pact bound. If you didn’t feel the need to protect me so…so strongly, you would have never been mad at Belphie. Hell, you probably would have felt the same way about me too.”

You drop your gaze, unable to look at him now. The tears that pin prick your lash line threaten to pour over and fall down your cheeks. You become surprised as a hand comes up and wipes them away.

“Fuck, you’re an idiot, ya know that? Sometimes you can be a bigger idiot then me, and that’s sayin’ sumthin’”.

You head shoots up to angrily glare at him only to find him giving you the most sincere look you’ve ever seen on his face.

“You comin’ here didn’t change anything. Belphie woulda done anythin’ possible to kill the human exchange student if it was you, or any other schmuck. An I woulda had to look out for them, too.”

You ponder it for a moment letting his words sink into your skin. It sounds logical, you know that, but you still can’t help but blame yourself. He can almost see right through you.

“But, I don’t want any other schmuck, got it? You’re my human and I’m your first man. Ya know what that means?”

“It means I have to give you my undivided attention or you’ll throw a hissy fit?”

“Wha- Hey! No!”, He tried to look mad, but how can he when you giggle so brightly.

“It means you’re mine, idiot. There is no one else because no one else could even compete with ya. Of course I’m gonna protect ya. I can’t go loosing ya”, you can hear him choke on his words a bit before continuing, “not again.”

You reach out and wrap your arms around him, pulling him into your chest and holding on as tight as you could, almost for dear life. He lifts his head of unruly white hair to look up at you.

“I need ya beside me.”

[lundenloves]

welcome to my projection.

i write sometimes. it’s primarily just to pass the time instead of moping around my room like a lazy bastard but hey-ho, some people seem to gravitate towards the nonsense i write. british comedies by the looks of it *hitting my chest with pride* humour me or i’ll fall into another spiral ‼️

all works listed are owned by me unless stated otherwise, do not copy or use any of my material as your own. minors do not interact. also take note that everything i write is fictional.

→ request info | taglist

→ couples counselling one 1.4k | two 2.4k | f!oc | angst, mentions of sex although nothing explicit

[ aleta and javier peña have been married for ten years, only now do they realise love isn’t reciprocated between them anymore. ]

→ home comforts req | 1k | gn!reader

[ you're struggling to cope after the DEA. fortunately, your partner is there to help you. even with awful jokes. ]

→ dad!simon masterlist

[ where you’ll find your favourite big broody man turning a page in this fatherhood bollocks. a journey. you may even get emotional but don't blame me. thanks. ]

→ ¹ when it rains, it pours smut 6.3k | f!oc

[ after relentless drunken encouragement from 141, simon riley decides to take a girl home whom he's caught eyes with a few too many times. what he doesn't expect however, are the unknown feelings in his chest after her simple acts of affection and pleasure he was always deprived of. ]

→ ² pouring through rainfall part two of the above | 3.4k

[ thea and simon meet again, their year told through seasons and summarised to the ending we all wanted. ]

→ therapy session 2.5k

[ mandatory therapy at base as set by price. simon is not for it, uncooperative mf with glares and the lot featuring a price cameo omg ]

→ johnny's scene 1.3k

[ simon refuses to come to terms with soap’s death and it eats at him. his grief follows him into the house and you’re growing tired of it, ultimately resulting in a fuck off argument. explosions totally happen. or not. ]

→ general headcannons

[ late night thoughts, thrown together with zero process ]

LONG DRABBLES ↓

→ simon hates photos | 500 words

→ pregnant with his third child | 700 words

→ that’ll do, johnny req | 1.1k | gn!reader

[ your soulmate, johnny mactavish. that’s it. that’s the ficlet. ]

→ price teaches you how to smoke req | 700 wc | gn!reader

[ praise, price and cigars, what more could you want? ]

COMFORTABLY NUMB (dr!price au)

〔 you’re slotted right into the service of doctor john price, an elite head of division and self titled marmite character — you either love him or hate him. you personally can’t quite decide, but he knows for certain that you’re not for him. what will you do after being forced to learn under his wing? 〕

→ ¹ welcome to the nhs 3.1k | check warnings

→ first hc

DAMON ALBARN

→ platforms 120k | f!oc | 18+ | complete fic ✓

[ “I’ll show you where things are, and then you can shut up and put your head down. You work for me now.” His accent was sharp.

"I work for money, not for you." In which Amelia's already testing Monday morning is ruined even further by a certain irate man. The two automatically don't get along and soon become sick at the thought of each other. What happens when Amelia finds herself working for the enemy? ]

[tenpintsof-sundrop]

Okay I'm having another thought about Isaac (I am thinking about Isaac again, big fucking surprise)

I feel like it says a lot about Isaac that during Motel California when Stiles found him and used the flare to snap him out of the mental torture spell that the motel ghost and the Wolfsbane had put all of the wolves in, Isaac was the only one not actively trying to physically harm himself. Isaac was hiding under the bed.

(If you haven't seen the episode and/or don't watch the show, mentions of trauma, suicide and self harm below.)

Like - let's run it down.

Ethan was being tortured by visions of someone trapped inside of his body and he tried to use a circular saw to cut that someone out (trying to cut himself free). It likely represents the idea that he was coming to resent merging with Aiden in their Alpha state, hating not having his own individual identity, hating the fact that Aiden might make him hurt someone (against his will while they're merged) innocent like Danny in the name of Deucalion's cause.

Boyd was being reminded of a childhood trauma (and I am actually so pissed that the show didn't go into more detail about this story and if they weren't planning on revealing the full details - why didn't they just make his visions about Erica? because he's clearly tortured and fucked up about that) where it seems like he was responsible for a younger sibling in a public place and that sibling was then abducted or went missing (and maybe turned up dead later?) and he feels responsible for her disappearance and/or death.

So he takes the safe out of the office and places it on top of himself to weigh himself down while he drowns in the bathtub - one, because he knows that no one of humans who are conscious of the goings on can lift it off and free him, and two, likely to represent the crushing weight that he feels over the guilt of losing his sibling. The crushing 'responsibility' he felt (even though he was just a child and it wasn't his fault). And it probably comes back to Erica - how he felt responsible for taking care of her during the time they were captured, and he likely felt responsible for her death too.

And Scott - sees a vision of his mother kidnapped and murdered by Deucalion, and he is told that it's all his fault. And he tries to burn himself alive while questioning if there is a ghost trying to convince him to do it or if there's something truly wrong with him. (And not knowing that Derek is alive, he feels responsible for Derek's 'death' and the lives of everyone around him - so the message here is pretty clear.)

What happens to Isaac is what interests me the most. He remembers something that happened during his childhood, a distinct memory with his father - a seemingly random, average conversation where his father is trying to teach him about tools, and things escalate quickly. When Isaac makes a simple mistake, his father's anger booms out of control, and he tells Isaac that he is inherently flawed, and then - Isaac has a vision of himself being locked back in the freezer that his father used to punish him, which we later find out means that the ghost prompted him to crawl under the bed, a tight space that would normally send him spiralling into a panic attack. The ghost is using his claustrophobia to torture him (when Stiles finds him, he's sweaty and shaking and clearly very poor off), but he's the only one of the wolves not actively trying to kill himself.

What this says to me is that - Isaac has already lived through a fate worse than death. Worse than the kind of mystery that drives the average person to suicide. This says to me that a demon (or whatever lives in the motel) that thrives off people killing themselves, gets more pain and suffering to feed off of from Isaac having a claustrophobic panic attack and believing that he's back in his father's basement in the freezer than it would if he was actually miserable enough to want to kill himself.

Isaac already died while locked in that freezer many, many times.

Idk that's just what that moment in the show says to me.

[seawater-aurelia-writing]

Broken { The Break; Chapter 2}

Pairing(s): Fem!MC/Yuu/Reader x TBD

Summary: MC awakens after her fall but the reactions of others make her spiral worse - but not all is as it seems.

WARNINGS

I am not the best at labeling warnings or triggers but I can say that this story is laden with neglect, self-depreciation, self-neglect, anxiety, possible depression and attempts to justify the above. There could be more labels that I can add but i’m unsure how to word them - so please exercise caution.

I liiiiiiiiiiiive! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ I restarted this SO many times and yet I could never get it to feel...'right'...So I hope this lives up to yall's expectations! Sorry for the bad summary lol

One last disclaimer though! I have not seen the entirety of Chapter 6 and I have avoided pretty much all content for Chapter 7 as far as i'm aware. So I may not have everyone exactly in character in new things were revealed for them.

When M/C awoke, she half expected to be in the infirmary as she was when she was knocked unconscious during the Magift Tournament. But the other half of her? 

She didn’t expect much. Be it the stillness of the void around her, or the library floor if Professor Trein left her where she fell – there wouldn’t be much difference. It's what usually happened anyway; She could handle her injuries herself if that was the case. However, she supposed there was some form of upside to being in the infirmary. 

If she was left in the void, how else would she know firsthand how she burdened and upset those around her.

‘It’s so late…’ She thought to herself, gazing out of the window across from her bed. She could barely make out the faintest shape of the moon – a crescent. Even the moon was smiling at just how pathetic she had to look at this moment.

“-C. M/C!” 

Why was it so hard for her to hear? Even as she turned her head slowly, moving her eyes to gaze up at the headmaster beside her, it was as if someone had placed her in a tub of mud. She moved so slowly, without much feeling other than a sharp pain as she tried to rest the side of her head down onto the pillow.

“…Hng..”

“Thank goodness, you’ve finally awoken! It’s been two days already! What on earth did you drink to cause you to create such an awful mess of the library?! You know very well that you cannot ...poultices as other students do because of ... Furthermore, I believe I ...use it for research not as ...a playground!” He ranted but his voice faded in and out as he spoke. But why? Why can't I hear him?

Only an idiot would zone out at a time like this.

Crowley sighed, clearly exasperated when she didn’t attempt to speak.

‘He hates that he let you stay here. Who can't do simple chores?He wishes he never helped you.’

“Once you are ...leave, you are to clean up ...the library. Luckily, ...the matter with you ...I can see.” He continued after a moment, his arms folding over his chest as he gazed down at her. Slowly, it became easier to focus but the ringing in her ears never  "Actually...Our nurse is ...but I see no reason ...release you myself."

“…Y-yes…sir.” She rasped, voice dry and hoarse from lack of use.How long had she been unconscious? But again, did it truly matter? But what did that matter? Clearly, the pain in her head wasn’t real and not a sign of something worse. Why should she expect something else?

'He wants you gone.'

'You're taking up space.'

'Stop being selfish.'

'Because you think you're worth more than you are.'

Ace, Deuce and Grim came to visit her that day at lunch just before her release but the visit felt hollow. They laughed and teased her for her clumsiness, even Deuce smiling a bit at the dramatics of Grim, but none seemed to notice the forced smile that M/C put on her face. None noticed how her eyes twitched at the sharp, spike of pain that formed when they grew louder. 

‘They’re only here because they’re forced to be. Stop thinking about yourself.’

'Just smile. Don't make a scene.'

When M/C had been released earlier that day, she was urged straight to attend the final class of that day rather than go straight to Ramshackle. 

‘Please let this go by fast…’ She thought to herself, letting Rook lead the way to their class as the pain in her head continued to grow. M/C closed her eyes for a moment, missing the way Rook glanced back at her and shifted his body to walk closer to her. 'Please...'

Yet it did not. 

MC felt as if she was on autopilot as she sat in class, sluggishly marking notes where needed and nodding along with the lecture but nothing seemed to sink in, no matter how many times she willed herself to focus in. Rook would boisterously comment on things, his voice jolting her to the present long enough for her to gaze at him and then the teacher before her focus waned once more.

‘You’re so needy.’ Why couldn’t she just move past her little incident? Everyone else already had moved past it, so it clearly wasn’t very important. She had no right to wish that others worry about her. They had bigger things to worry about, more important things to focus on.

Right?

‘Why can’t you handle this on your own?” Why couldn’t she? It was only one day just like the others! It wasn’t even hard! Ruggie had gone without meals more than she had! So obviously, she was just exaggerating. Vil had more things to worry about than she did including an actual career! What right did she have to complain about doing a few favors?

‘You’re pathetic.’

‘A waste of space.’

‘What good is someone who screws up a simple thing?’

‘No one cares.’

‘You’re replaceable.’

‘Forgettable.’

As class ended, MC prepared for her cycle to begin once more and so it did. Rather than go to  dinner, Kalim latched onto MC the moment she was out of the classroom. The pain in her head returned full force with his boisterous volume right beside her ear but she still smiled. 

He offered to help the next time she went to the library since he knew ladders were tricky. 

‘They aren’t tricky. He’s pitying you’

“Kalim, leave her alone. She needs to rest.” Jamil finally said after a few minutes, his eyes not leaving her  as he spoke. He almost seemed to study her before adding, “She isn’t looking well.”

‘Pathetic.’

“Huh,? Oh right! I’m sorry! Go, go rest up! We can plan a group dinner later!” Kalim practically beamed before ushering her away from the cafeteria despite Grim’s many protests and her own stumbling feet.

“B-But -” 

 But they were already on Main Street by the time MC attempted to speak. Why was she always so hesitant when it came to these things? She barely uttered a word in the entire conversation and despite Jamil’s eyes on her, it was as if she wasn’t really a part of the conversation. Just a figure meant to listen but not contribute. 

Always there but never meant to fully be there.

MC didn’t register her body moving as she went towards the direction of Ramshackle, her form practically shrinking in on itself as they went. Grimm was rambling on and on as he floated beside her, while she let her body guide her on a path she had now memorized. 

“…Just…pathetic…” She mumbled, one hand coming up to grasp at the other elbow. That’s what she was, wasn’t she? She didn’t stand out other than being magicless but even then people seemed to forget. No one cared that she couldn’t magically make a situation better, but they expected her to do it anyway. Just like no one seemed to care about her wellbeing but they expected her to always be okay. Thoughts of Riddle, Leona, Azul, Kalim, and Vil drifted into her mind - how each of them experienced their own breaks during the Overblots, how they opened up about what hurt them, how everyone listened and tried to help them. She thought about how Crowley actually brought in special healers and therapists just for them for weeks after their incidents and how they still have check-ins with him to ensure they’re on the right track. 

Where was that for her? Her body couldn’t produce magic, she couldn’t  Overblot to make others realize how badly she was hurt mentally, physically, emotionally. She couldn’t voice her worries because who would listen? Even when she tried to warn her friends about the smallest of dangers, they simply brushed her off. Her words didn’t matter; so why would her thoughts matter.

‘Is that it?’ She wondered, a sudden cold feeling filling her form. What if she truly was the issue? Why was she so focused on having her thoughts and feelings acknowledged when she knew that all others wanted was for her to help them? They are all more important than her pathetic emotions, right? They have a life and future here in their world and it’s clear she’s just an anomaly who may never return to where she was once from. Was she - overvaluing herself? Was it all-

“It’s your fault, you know!” Grimm yelled suddenly, directly in front of her.

MC stopped suddenly, a cold chill rushing through her body at the words. Her fingernails slowly began digging into her skin as she looked into Grim’s eyes. “W-what?”

“It’s your fault!! You know, I had to do cleaning duty!” He complained, his little paws resting on his hips as he scowled. “I wanted to pick up some of that discount tuna before Ruggie got all of it but I was roped into cleaning! Not to mention those creepy twins came at me about something you forgot! And you forgot the library today! I'm not cleaning that just because you're lazy and took a fall! You’re my henchman, not the other way around! Don’t be selfish! ”

M/C this. M/C that. Clean the weeds. Fetch my things. Deliver this. Talk to this person. Clean this, clean that. Keeping busy, always busy.

'It's for the best. They have other things to focus on-'

She stopped walking, her head hurting more and more, as if a little thing was smashing cauldrons over and over against her brain. Her heart joined the rhymed pounding so hard, she gripped her chest in a vain attempt to calm it.

"Stop-" She gasped but couldn't say more as she stepped back, her throat clenching.

'They are more important. Don't deny it'

'They will never care about you.'

'You don't belong here.'

“I know as the Great Magician that I am, that I need to carry the both of us since you're useless without magic but you need to watch it with the - huh? MC?!” Grimm continued, his tone shifting to something MC didn’t want to hear – something she couldn’t hear.

She backed away, one step and then two before rushing off towards the entrance gates of the College. Not once looking back.

Her surroundings blurred as she ran, not taking into account where she was truly going - just knowing that she had to get away, far away. From the Grim, from all of the others, from Night Raven College, from everything.She just wanted it all to go away!

'Useless.'

'Magicless.'

‘Selfish’

"Stop! Stop it!" She sobbed, her breath catching in her throat. Her chest began to hurt more than her head caused her to stagger in her stride. M/C felt herself tumble down and crash down a slope, the brush scratching her as she went down before she hit something hard and frigid. 

She sobbed as the thoughts continued to repeat in her head; Every overblot, every chore, every demand, every reprimand, every expectation, and every sign of disappointment. Why was she truly like this? She wasn’t good for anything but menial tasks due to her lack of magic and still she can’t do any of that right. 

“Make it stop, make it stop, makeitstop…”

She didn’t know how long she laid there, nor how long she was sobbing, begging and screaming for the pain to go away, for the thoughts to go away. The pain in her head only grew the more she cried, and as it grew  - so did that pain and tightness in her chest.

‘Useless.’

‘Useless!’

‘USELE-’

Until the darkness took her under again.

But unlike before - the chill of the darkness grew stronger and more intense until it was the only thing she was able to feel. Just as the voices were the only thing she was able to hear. Repeating their words over and over, in a hell that she couldn’t wake up from.

After what seems like ages, a gradual warmth began to seep into  the darkness around her. A spreading, far reaching feeling spreading across her body but oddly focused around her back and under her legs. 

‘What is…’ She wondered as another sensation came to her slowly, a rocking kind of motion accompanied by a lightness. It reminded her of the gentle swaying of the waves of Coral Sea but was swiftly ruined by the sound of harsh thunder reigniting the pain in her head. A flash of brilliant light flashed across her eyelids, causing her to whimper.

“Are…-ake, dear?” A familiar, deep voice crooned, not loud enough to hurt her head any further but enough for her to hear it clearly.

‘This voice…I know it…I..Why is he-’

‘You’re wasting his time.’

“Shhh, your heart…racing again. You…it’s Lillia…Focus on my breathing, little one.” Lillia’s voice soothed, as the rocking motion slowed - was she being carried? M/C registered the warmth tightening around her slightly as her breath quickened unintentionally.  “Shhh, focus…. You can do it. Think of nothing else but my voice and deep breaths.”

It took what felt like ages before M/C was able to focus on the steady rise and fall of her head in time with Lillia’s breathing. The ache in her chest lightened but the pain in her head did not, only worsening as she attempted to open her eyes. Another flash of lightning, red eyes and furrowed brows.

“It’s best if your eyes remain closed. The storm will only worsen the pain of your concussion.” Lillia remarked, just before more thunder rumbled. “ You worried us all, dear. Especially dear Malleus.”

“C-concussion? B-but I…don’t have a-” She mumbled, turning her head to hide from the storm before a thought flashed through her mind. “T-The library! I didn’t clean i-”

“You will not be cleaning anything nor doing any chores for the foreseeable future, little one.” Lillia cut her off quickly, his soft voice containing a firmer tone than she was used to hearing. “You are injured and have been pushing yourself too hard. Far harder than you should have.”

‘He knows you can’t do it. That’s why he said that.’

‘He knows you’re pathetic.’

“No, n-no I’m not. It’s fine. If anything I need to push harder, heh.” She forced out a laugh, attempting to lighten the atmosphere but Lillia merely sighed.  “I-It’s nothing really!”

“You’ve barely been eating, little one. Silver told me as such and I witnessed it myself; We were going to ensure you ate this evening but you didn’t show. In addition, you’ve been having more accidents than usual and have been unfocused. You. Are.Exhausted.”

“No, it’s fine. I just, if I just finish this one thing then it’s fine. I-I can clean the library super fast and it’s all okay!” She pressed, fighting the urge to cry once more. Had her screw ups been that apparent? She didn’t mean to; She was doing her best!

“But it’s never just one thing, is it?” M/C faintly registered the sound of his shoes upon cobblestone, were they back on campus?  “After this, then there’s another favor that’s asked of you, another assignment, another mess to clean. But – have you had time for yourself, little one?”

“…I-I do at night I have-“ The words trailed off as she tried to think of something. She did have time to herself at night but it was never for long, especially when her thoughts would become so loud or she would get those odd dreams of things she swears she’s seen but can’t fully remember. 

“But you live with Grim,yes? Who boasts about how tidy you keep your shared room…so I can only wonder how much alone time you get in there at all.” He hummed,and for a brief moment MC felt the brush of something soft and silken brush her face. Lilia seemed to shift slightly, curling into her  before the gently swaying became an airy sensation, like she was adrift but his warmth continued to steady her.

“…”

“And let us not forget that Malleus often takes his nightly walks in your area; Often alongside you, yes?  He’s told us that he’s seen lights on in Ramshackle as late as the early morning hours even after he’s escorted you home.”

“Ramshackle…isn’t my home.” She mumbled, her eyes growing hot and tears welled within. “This isn’t my home, I don’t belong and that’s why this doesn’t matter. I don’t know why you’re wasting your time with me; you have better things-”

“Do you know what’s the scariest thing in the world?”

“Huh?”

Lilia’s voice was low as he continued to speak, “Asking for help. You have to open yourself up and admit to yourself and someone else that you need help. That you need someone there to help you stand until you get your footing once again. There’s not many people who can open themselves up to doing that. Magically inclined or not.”

MC thinks of everyone who asks her for help. “No one seems to have that issue here…”

“They do love to ask you for things but not for those matters that are oh-so  troubling to them. Most would rather keep to themselves and allow their thoughts to consume them before they incite their pleas. Does that sound familiar?”

MC bit her lip, her eyes opening partially as her tears finally began to fall. She vaguely noticed the dim setting around them, but nothing was truly familiar as her tears blurred her sight. “All of you already have so much to worry about and futures to plan and…it’s just…better if I don’t ask.”

“And what, praytell, about your future, little one?” Lilia pressed as MC shakily used her hands to wipe her tears away.

“I…don’t think I have one. I don’t have magic so I can’t really….. I’m a magic-less student in a magically-based academy – how am I even going to use what I’m being taught? I’m just pathetic and worthless-.”

“Enough. I refuse to listen to you slander yourself in such a way, Child of Man.”

MC tensed as Malleus’s voice rang out firm from somewhere in front of Lilia and herself. She slowly parted her fingers, blinking so as to get a clear peek between them but quickly came to wish she hadn’t. She wished she could go back to that unknown area where Lilia had taken her from and just melt there where she wouldn’t have to deal with what was in front of her and the implications it all held.

Standing before her, in the main room of Ramshackle Dorm, were the Dorm Leaders , Grim and Sam with various expressions across their faces. -----------------------------taglist-------------------------------

@mamushroomoracorn | @sailor-pom | @secondb0rn | @honey-deerling-oc | @valerieelizablack | @hanafubukki |@houseoftitans | @butterscotch-babie | @thai | @alextheknight707 | @starshiningsirius | @vanrougette | @valerieelizablack | @cherrysamasama | @over-active-daydreamer | @tanspostsblog | @pineapple-coco | @silvsilvysilver | @diu0sanr | @amoresdarlene | @alankorex | @thehomosexualsupportingcast | @formerstands | @yourunsearc | @twst-rui | @StarryOne23

[livesworthlivingau]

Behind the Vale Chapter 33

Spoilers for ISAT/Two Hats below! CW: Self Loathing, Mental Spiraling, Pining, Whatever is the next step past pining?

[You sit alone in one of the few tents everyone had set up for the night. Everyone was still eating together around the fire when you excused yourself, saying you needed to turn in for the night... You can still feel the sensation of her hand in yours, as if it had been burned into your skin. Even through your glove and her roughly calloused skin, her grip felt warm. Firm yet gentle... You stare at your hand for a long while, alone in your tent you'd eventually be sharing with her and Flare. You perk up as the tent flap opens, revealing Little Flare themself, holding a plate of kebabs.]

"You forgot to eat dinner, dumby! We got a lot of walking to do so you need your strength!" [They remark, unceremoniously shoving the meal into your hands. They turn to leave before stopping in their tracks, putting something together in their head.]

"What are you doing? I thought you were going to bed."

"Couldn't sleep, as per usual..."

"Why are you still in here then?"

"... I guess I just wanted to be alone."

"Should I go?"

"You should return to the others, but, I don't mind if you stay." [They stand in the opening of the tent for a moment, before walking back over to sit down next to you.]

"You okay?"

"Not especially~." [You admit through a forced smile.]

"Why not?" [You can't help but let out a little chuckle... You're unsure how to even explain this to a child.]

"Everything?... I'm sorry little one, I've just... I've been through so much, I'm not sure if 'being okay' is exactly a possibility for me anymore..."

"That's stupid." [You laugh again at their response.]

"Oh is it now~?"

"Yeah! If Frin can be okay then anyone can! No matter how much forever school they went to!"

"Hah!... If only I had your confidence, Flare. I don't believe it's that simple though..."

"Well why isn't it? What's the problem?"

"The problem... is... all of you..." [You finally admit, staring down at the floor for a moment. When your gaze finally returns to them, they look up at you with an absolutely heart broken face.]

"N-No! Wait! N-Not like that! It's not you it's... it's me... it's because of what I did to all of you, how I lost you all, how... how Stardust got their perfect little happy ending..." [You look back at their expression, relieved they don't look quite so hurt anymore.]

"But... We didn't go through any of that! So why would we care?!"

"Because I care! Because what I did wasn't-" [You stop yourself... You're yelling at a child, you take a few deep breaths to compose yourself again, not wanting to upset them.]

"Because it still happened... and what I did is unforgivable..."

"... you sound like stupidfrin, back at the house..."

"I suppose I do, don't I?... Some things never change, no matter how much you try..." [You let out a heavy sigh. Flare gets back to their feet and starts to head out of the tent with a pout... Wonderful, we've upset the child again... Why are we such a blinding idiot... Your self loathing is interrupted as the flap opens once more, this time to Nille peeking inside.]

"Hey, Bon said you were 'being a crabface.' What's up?" [She asks with a tone more confused than anything else. You let out a heavy sigh.]

"I made the mistake of being honest and open with a child."

"Heh, yeah that'll get you. The alternative ain't much better though. They can tell when they're being talked down to, and they sure hate it."

"I'm quite aware... I just have to learn to toe that line again..." [She walks over to sit beside you. You feel her hand slip into yours once more, gripping it tightly as your face burns dark immediately.]

"You're doing great, Vay... I'm really glad you're trying so hard to make it work. Thank you." [You remain silent for a moment, conflicting emotions painting your face before you finally pull your hand away and turning to not face her.]

"Vay?... What's the matter?" [You slink into yourself, hugging your legs to your chest.]

"... Why... Why would you want to be a part of this?... Why do you keep fighting to keep me around?... I don't-" [She grabs your arm suddenly, yanking you towards her to shut you up. You blink and look up at her in confusion, though a blush still painted across your face.]

"Vale, I swear to change, If you don't want to hold my hand because you don't want to, that's fine, but if you start the pity party about not deserving holding my crabbing hand I'm gonna break out the hammer again! Now be honest with me, do you want to hold my crabbing hand?" [Your face burned as hot as it did when it used to be a star. Your words are caught in your throat as you can't quite get over your fluster for the moment. You finally respond with a light nod since your mouth had failed you. She gives you a bright smile, grabbing your hand especially tight, almost crushing now.]

"Wonderful, now come on and have dinner with us!" [She stated, not giving you an option in the matter. She grabs the plate Flare brought you and drags you out of the tent, sitting you down on a large log beside her around the fire. You look across the others as Stardust and the Housemaiden giggle, Flare make another gagging sound, Eclipse smiles brightly and the Researcher just grins... You sit silently and begin to eat your kabobs with your free hand, your face practically pitch lightless the whole time.]

[samstclair]

Joel Miller's Survivor

Joel Miller X Reader

Anonymous Request

"Hey Sam! Hope you're still alive. You've been like ghost, and I'm getting worried about my request not being fulfilled, AND your health, of course or whatever! Yeah so can you get to it already? Joel X reader, simple. Can you make Y/N be like traveling with them or some shit? I don't know. But do your thing when you've crawled out of your hole!"

Word Count: long bro

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As you lied in your bed, rotting (you have not gotten up in the three hours you've been awake [so now it's almost 12 in the afternoon]), feeling like absolute dog shit for:

1. your empty tummy, 

2. not having showered in a week despite you paying your water bills, 

3. your internet running at the speed of a geriatric snail so no more fan-cam edits, ALSO despite paying your internet bills, 

3. just feeling like an overall ball of grease and oil that could, if necessary, fill a car's gas tank, 

4. not having gotten up in those three hours, 

and 5., perhaps most importantly, the world ending :(

you gazed out your window into the morning (afternoon, actually), light that peered through. It was scenic really, little puffs of dust, some asbestos tinkled in, gliding softly in the air. It hit you - this is not fun or fresh. This sucks dick, actually. 

You rose, stretching, a big big biiiiigggggg stretch, cracking every conceivable bone in your body, trying to avoid looking in the mirror that could potentially reveal your physically-troubled state. You didn't even have to look to know the condition your hair was in - actually let's not talk about the hair. You'll spiral. If we can't see it, it's not real :D

"Fleabag said it best. Hair IS everything," you thought to yourself, thinking about avoiding the mirror. "Oh my god I could SOOOOO binge Fleabag right now -"

But you knew that wasn't an available way to veg out. As mentioned before, your power, water, and internet were out. You supposed it came with the world ending and all. 

"Grrrjsdjaksdfnbdsjdskjjfs," your tummy said. You cradled it like a mother holding her child. 

"Mama needs to eat soon...", you thought wearily.

You rose and peered out the window - and it was the same old shit. Those cracked-out girlies were still on the prowl, being the biggest cockblocks you've ever encountered in your life for some good food. 

"But girl, we gotta eat! We have to soon," your brain said. "You can't keep this shit up! REAL calories and shit actually do matter!"

"But bitch how? Those fat asses on the street are gonna try to toss up with you again!" the other side of your brain said. 

"So what? You're gonna keep living off three-month old Halloween candy?? Those Twix's are tasting more like the processed chocolate that they are every DAY! Stop playing around and gaslighting yourself into thinking they're good, girl!" the other side argued back. "THINK about it. You bought those to sneak in to watching Dune in theaters. And not even the second Dune, the first. They're literally vintage." 

"What's stomach gotta say?" the other side shot back, quite angrily. 

"Grhjdkajdjsjdfoifdiosiojf," your stomach replied. You knew what that meant a little all too well - your stomach couldn't take it anymore. She wasn't even sentient enough to respond.

"FUCK!" you bursted aloud! So loud that the cracked-out girlies out on the street got startled and did a little jump! 

You absolutely HATED being hungry. If this experience had taught you anything, it's the appreciation of a good ass fucking meal. You were, after all, a self-proclaimed 'fat ass bitch'. So how were you gonna live up to that now? 

You began to reminisce about your favorite dishes, even though you knew it wasn't gonna be a good idea for your mental health. 

Bandeja paisa...

Pickles...

McDonald's cheeseburger with Big Mac sauce...plz McDonald's worker, don't forget the sauce........

Publix sub...

Mango chunks with tajin...

Provolone cheese and salami...

Korean corndogs...

A fat ass burrito...

Little Caesars breadsticks...

Auntie Anne's organic cinnamon rolls...

Vodka pasta...

Coconut chickpea curry...

...a bowl of assorted fruit but none of that honeydew cantaloupe bullshit...

"FUCK!" you yelled again. They also jumped! again. "How the FUCK did I go from drinking tiki cocktails on the beach to the WALKING FUCKING DEAD?!?!?!?!??!!!!! I DON'T EVEN HAVE A FUCKING RICK HERE PROVIDING FOR ME!!!"

You slammed yourself back on the bed, ready to cry - both from the acceptance that this was your new reality and slamming yourself a little too hard that you felt a spring bust up into your thoracic spine. You hated yourself for talking shit about that cantaloupe and honeydew. Yeah they're ass and should NOT have a place in a fruit bowl but that was real fucking food. Real SUSTENANCE!!! And what did you do? You fed it to the fucking seagulls on the beach and used it to pelt those fuck ass middle schoolers who wouldn't stop quoting Adin Ross, when you could have enjoyed it yourself. Had it been now, you would've Iron Clawed those birds and children for those two dookie ass fruits just for a taste of something REAL. Not moldy chocolate from a Costco bag that you snuck into Lynch's Dune. (Yeah girl, I'm not talking the Timothee one. I'm taking the Kyle MacLachlan one. I said they were vintage!)

How did we get here?

Well, we'll revisit this question later, cause right now you have come to one FINAL decision - food. You. Need. Food. 

"Fuck it bro," you told yourself, tears welling in your eyes as you climbed out of your bed and made your way downstairs to the exit. "If there's no fine-ass cowboy police officer with a big ass nose to do it for me, I guess mama gotta do it herself." 

You slipped on your old-reliable Crocs (the Lightening McQueen editions so you could go fast), then opened your back sliding glass door as to avoid the crackhead girlies on the street out front, the sun nearly blinding you solar-eclipse style. You felt like a hostage released from a hole after months of being, well, held hostage. 

"Is this what Saddam felt like?," you thought.

A wave of complete euphoria went over you as you heard the birds chirp, the wind fly by, the smell of green grass with a little hint of deteriorating carcasses - it felt GOOD to be outside. Though you have had some bouts of homebody phases, you were never not missing the great outdoors. Besides the mosquitoes and the balls-hot sun, and the occasional dead bodies. But, you reminded yourself, we have to make the BEST of these types of situations. 

You closed the glass door, quietly, cause those electric-chair looking victims had the most insane hearing, (making, admittedly, quite jealous since you're sure you lost a percentage of your own hearing prematurely after the introduction of AirPods.)

You then walked across your now overgrown garden, which under any other circumstances, could have passed off as a big whimsical fairy garden with the grass now being several feet tall, little ladybugs and shit nestled between. But now, shit made you feel like you were in a jungle back in 'Nam, circa 1970, pushing the foliage out of your face as you got across, bracing yourself for running into a spider web or a gnat smacking you in the face. 

Once you saw the backyard gate, you opened it quietly and peered out onto the street - it was quiet, ODDLY quiet, with not one of those cockblockers in sight. You knew better, however, looks can be deceiving. We all thought those Polly Pocket outfits looked pretty good, but the gastrologist telling your parents that their elementary-school child has a rubber dress lodged in one of their intestines actually isn't pretty good. 

You crept out, tiptoeing like a cartoon character or Drake sneaking past Travis Scott to whisper his verses on MELTDOWN, making sure to stay EXTRA vigilant of your surroundings. You needed to master the art of NOT disassociating, which basically meant undoing all your previous masterings of the craft. It was extremely difficult, but it was needed - slipping up LITERALLY means death here. On some for realizies shit. On some getting eaten out by and not in the good way shit. (That was disgusting I apologize - Sam)

As you crept down the street, passing down the backdrop to your average end-of-the-world surroundings with moldy houses and charred cars, you tried to remember the way to the Target. You were shit at directions and there was no Apple Maps to help you now. You just had to rely on your primal instincts of location - which, suffice to say, were usually not that good. But, when food's involved, you could track like a Neanderthal holding a spear hunting a fat ass mammoth with a posse of your fellow Neanderthal girls, you know, like, primal. 

You turned the corner, sure of where you were going and worried about your luck thus far. No zombie in sight oh shit never mind there's one across the other side of the street. 

It kept twitching in its tweaked state, continuously running into a fence since it was blind with that ugly ass toe fungus all up in its face. 

"Oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit," you told yourself. Asshole clenching, toes squeezing downward, you calmed yourself down. It was the blind one so girl you're good! Just creep by quietly, ain't nothing to it! 

You took in a deep breath - tap in tap in tap in girl! Just walk on past! 

"Okay, okay," you told yourself. "Girl CHILL! Let's go okay, one, two, three - oh fuck I'm fucking shitting myself -" 

But then, it hit you - you literally had no reason to be scared. You literally lived in New York. You took those subways, you knew how to handle characters like that. 

Like a light switch normally does, you switched. You felt all that fear drain out of you, like the shit you took earlier - quick and easy (it was diarrhea, so, not really a good analogy metaphorically). You walked on down, even giving a friendly wave at the fungus girl. They're people too! You remembered to tell yourself, you CANNOT judge someone by their appearance! They're just going through it, I mean, after all, we've all been in that depressive episode/state before. Why hate when you can relate? Exactly!  In all honesty, your hair right now probably isn't making you look well-adjusted. We all have our bad days <3 Just don't look at them too long and you're good! 

As you passed by, it occurred to you - you have not been out in a MINUTE. All that hubbub and for what? You just had to wave and walk past. This brought a refreshing smile to your face, happy that you were grounded back to your reality. 

"Pharrell was right. Look at the birds," you told yourself as you strolled along by, "look at the bees."

Though there were no birds or bees in sight, and the possible thought crossing your mind that you hallucinated the birds' chirps earlier, you thought it best to live in this pretend state. It helps being fake happy sometimes, after all! More and more that carbon dioxide leak in your house was sounding less like a theory and more like a fact!

You continued on, now remembering the area - Target was only a block or two away. Just in and out and oh shit there's another depressed tweaker right in front a couple feet away from you. 

This time, it wasn't one of those fungus girls. It was the one who could see AND hear. Talk about double fucking whammy. And she clocked your ass, head swinging inhumanely fast to look you straight in the face. 

"DAMN BITCH! YOU UGLY AS FUCK?!" you thought to yourself, unfortunately your instant, innate reaction.

"Hey, girl!" you said, friendly, trying to maintain your mindset from earlier. You waved and walked past, she seemed so taken aback from your friendliness that you left her stunted. She just stayed behind and watched. And on you walked on blissfully. 

But you weren't walking for long when you heard the pitter patter of those steps RACING behind you. You whipped around. Again, you were shit at directions and feet and all, but you were PRETTY sure that you'd walked several feet farther away, so why was the ugly fungus-but-no-fungus girl HELLA close to you right now?

"What?" 

The girl stopped, now confronted. 

You waited for a response. 

Apparently, so did she.

Y'all just stood there, silent.

......

................

...............................

..........................................

"Girl, I said what?"

Nothing. 

You shrugged, rolling your eyes and turned back. But again, that pitter fucking patter. 

You whipped around, quicker. She stopped her running, caught again. 

"Bitch, chill. I know your ass is not chasing at me," you warned. 

Nothing. Again.

You turned back around, walking a little faster. "Flaka drug ass bitch," you said under your breath. 

Pitter. 

Patter.

You whipped around again so fast you gave yourself whiplash and vertigo at the same time. 

 She stopped. 

"Bitch," you said, annoyed. 

"Ahfsjjdshhuweuifw," she mumbled. 

"I'm sorry?" you asked, genuinely confused at her mumbling. 

She had a dumbfounded face, despite not having the greatest ability to make expressions (half her face looked like those Barbie dolls Shane Dawson used to incinerate back on old YouTube). You inspected her closer. She definitely needed some Accutane treatment, cause apparently everyone ALL gave up skincare this year. 

"Sadjksfjdksjc," she snarled again, "sdfhjdsf, sdfhuwjsjioisd?" 

"Girl, I don't know," you replied, sassy. "I don't know what the fuck you're saying, to be honest."

"Sjdklasjfoijdjdisjfids," she mumbled.  

"Girl, speak the fuck up!"

The zombie huffed. "SJDJDFSAFIDSD!!!!" She put her hands on her waist, annoyed too.

You felt bad. You genuinely had no idea what she was saying, and it didn't sound like it ended in anything you could just reply with a quick and safe, 'yeah' or 'thank you' to. You couldn't even fake laugh. Awkward. Awco fucking taco. 

You two just stood there, face to face. A little standoff, perhaps? 

This encounter reminded you of the first time you encountered one of these girlies. It was on your walk home after you left your White Lotus resort from your month long stay....

"Ghrskjdsksfs," the girlie said from behind. It made you jump.

"OH MY GOD!" you yelled, both out of fear of her popping out of nowhere and of course, her appearance. "Girl, I don't wanna be rude, but you look BUSTED as fuck!"

She didn't respond. You soon found out she took offense to that.

She began to follow and chase you all the way home and up to your doorstep. High key on some harassment shit. You had to barricade yourself in, cause girl was trying to hug you or something and you love being nice to strangers but didn't wanna contract bed bugs, so you pushed the bitch down the porch in time for you to lock that door. She fucked up your Ring camera too from banging on the door, so shit was personal. 

You did NOT want to get physical with this girl now, but if push comes to shove, LITERALLY, then it'll have to do. 

And that was your mindset from then on. Anyway, back to the Western standoff:

"Okay, girl, look just back the fuck up, okay?" you warned. "I'm being like - soooo serious right now." 

You turned back around and continued down, a little hurriedly and checking behind yourself a little more often, but that girl got the memo. For a few more blocks, she was out of sight. 

You hated being rude, but, that's what being a girl entails sometimes.

"Horror nights came a little early this year," you told yourself, shaking your head, "some people don't have any self-awareness at all. So sad." 

Finally making it, you saw the big ass red target signaling it was a Target up above, with some extra cute greenery and mold growing inside of it. You liked the whole post-apocalyptic aesthetic, actually, but we keep that to ourselves. Other people's disadvantages are not cute to make an aesthetic out of, after all.

Inside, shit was ran SACKED. Others had gotten there before, the shelves wiped clean (figuratively, cause the shelves were filthy). It gave you STRONG COVID flashbacks. But, you were not here for toilet paper, you were here for FOOD, remember? 

You went to the back, avoiding broken pieces of glass and other unidentifiable and possibly tetanus-infested objects, looking for the produce and dairy section. It smelled of dampness and poop. Not great. 

"While I'm here, I wonder if they have some tampons, maybe? Actually, maybe they have some ZYN?" you wondered. After all, no one was readily available to supply you with an Elf Bar, your original being LONG dead. A girl still needed to tell her nicotine craving to chill out. You weighed your options: 

Having reciting gums > not having ZYN

Hmm.

Yeah.

Options seemed to talk for themselves. 

Anyway, you kept searching for any remnants of a SEALED package of food, but, unfortunately, there was none. If there were, it was moldy to the house boots down and def not edible to most people. You rummaged through and through, over and over - nothing. 

You took a deep, shaky breath in, feeling those panicky tears coming in, your hunger more unbearable. 

"Dude it's that, it's that I'm about to lose my fucking mind, bro," you mumbled manically to yourself as you continued to rummage like a raccoon. This made you sympathize with them, those girls live hard lives. If you were RJ, you would've stolen that bear's food too.

You picked through the remaining bags, inspecting the see-through plastic while holding it like it was an object from Chernobyl - at the very tip with the most minimal amount of skin to package contact possible. You held them up to the light and god forgive you, gave them a little sniff. When you made that mistake once, you assured maybe it was best not to do it again, the mildew-rotting scent so horridly offensive to your nasal passage that it nearly catapulted you into the ether. 

You sat down, ready to welcome that panic attack breakdown, but soon shot yourself up after smacking your ass right into a cold septic puddle of rainwater (or so you hoped) dripping from the rotted ceiling. In just in your "I <3 ORLANDO" Spongebob-themed PJ shorts, you were never more sure that you just contracted yourself a yeast infection. And by the way you also caught a glimpse of your hair in the reflection of the puddle. 

And this was it. 

You broke. 

Your hair looked like Beetlejuice. 

You looked like Beetlejuice.

YOU LOOKED LIKE BEETLEJUICE?!?!?!?

"I'm losing my mind? I'm losing my mind. THIS IS SO FUCKED!" you exclaimed, oddly enough in the exact likeness of Shane Dawson's freakout in that one instagram live reacting to Tati Westbrook's YouTube video. (What's with Shane today?) "Oh my god? Oh my god?"

You were manic. This was it. This was it - 

But wait - you forgot the canned food section? 

A lone Chef Boyardee ravioli sat on the shelf, waiting, seemingly, just for you. She looked beautiful. Stunning. Heavenly. 

You feverishly snatched the fuck out of that can, and in such power popped the lid off wide open, the colors of that red tomato sauce and surfacing ravioli packets swimming delightedly. You did it. You tapped into your inner Neanderthal, strength and all.

You downed that shit all in one go, feeling its room temperature-ness sink from your throat down to your intestines, down past that lodged Polly Pocket dress, into the acidic pit of your belly. You felt all your stomach cells jump collectively with such joy, imagining the cheering sounding just like what Horton heard on that speck. 

You smiled so happily and genuine, with the exact likeness of Mark Weins. 

You moaned, quite audibly. It was delectable. 

You had to hit it, you NEEDED to hit it, just like Mark - 

"Mmm, woooowwAAAGAHAHAH - "

"- SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEECHCCHCHCHHCHHC CRAASH BOOMMOMSMDF JSAFJSDSFHSJDHFJS - "

" - OH SHI -"

-You ragdolled onto the floor -

"- WHAT THE FU -"

-Fragments of cement bursted all around you -

"-BRO WHA-"

-You went blind-

And then, it was all silent.

Your moment of bliss completely evaporated, by a blue pick-up crashing into the Target, right into the produce and dairy section you were in seconds before, in another world...

Your ears rang, you were covered in dust, with the remaining red Chef Boyardee sauce all up on your face. 

The entire building SHOOK with more pebbles and asbestos from the roof dropped onto the floor, along with the rattling of the glass windows.

The sound of insane gunfire soon followed. 

You remained soldier-style onto the ground, like one taking it for the team by taking in all the impact of a land mind, belly to the ground. Though you couldn't see it what was happening, your soy face was NASTY. 

"Bro whaaatttt????" you whispered. "All this for toilet paper????" 

"TA-TATA-ATATATATATA," said the gunfire. "PPAPAPAATATATATTAAAA!!!!"

You crouched up, peering a little outside, to see a car on fire, along with more of that loud ass fucking gunfire and people ducking for cover. Shit was a real Call of Duty game. Shit was a real war zone. You were stupefied, stunned, SAT! Then, to the right -

"SCREEEECHCHCHHCHHCHCH BOOOF BOOOM PAPRATATATATA!!!!" More cars whipped around the corner outside, like for real Fast and Furious shit! 

"Uh," you thought to yourself, no longer wanting to watch like a noisy pedestrian, "uhhhhhh, yeah this ain't for me. A girl like me is NOT supposed to be here! This ain't my business! War is for boys <3"

You quickly made a go for the exit, only to find it blocked by some grown ass man and child. They quickly clocked you, safe to say, both parties knowing that seeing another person this close right now is not a great sign. 

The man pointed his gun to you as he stayed down with the girl, avoiding the incoming shots. 

"Wait, THEY'RE the ones being shot at?" you realized, "nah bro I'm good."

"Oh, don't mind me!" you quickly said in your sweet, customer service voice, "I'm just gonna, gonna go ahead and, yeah," you inched closer to the back door and saw yourself out to the alleyway behind the place, managing to casually dodge every incoming bullet at you by a hair. After shutting that shit behind you, you stood straighter, dusted some of the dust off, and thought it best to go on back home and pretend that nothing happened, as always.

You actually ended up knocking out NASTY in the alleyway. Like, unbeknownst to you, multiple of those fungus girls walked by you thinking you were already dead. 

You stirred, delirious and confused, like an old person snapping out of a moment's dementia. It was nearing sundown by now, with the sunset casting its glow on the desolate alley buildings. 

You rubbed your slept-swollen face after you cranked yourself up with shaky ass arms, genuinely trying to remember the events that brought you here in the first place. You were like a shell-shocked vet. 

"Bro...where the fuck....?" you looked around, trying to piece everything together - but you thought that might be too much work, so you opted to doing your own version of the Irish goodbye and leaving without addressing the previous events <3. 

"I get those frat boys. Last night really WAS a movie," you thought as you walked out of the alley, looking left and right trying to remember how the fuck you were gonna take your ass back now - like NOW cause nighttime is not the place to be around these girlies. You played Minecraft. You knew the vibe. They seemed to be more rabid and unpredictable, which safe to say, is NOT your fave combo. You could so fuck up a bag of Combo's right now.

You dusted more dirt from your SpongeBob shorts, and tried to fix your botched hair, but was briefly and heavily distracted by a dust particle getting into your eye - causing such emergency and panic. 

"Oh fuck oh fuck no get out get OUT!" you worried, trying to pry whatever foreign conspirator of a dust particle that was currently committing espionage in your eye socket, albeit looking quite disturbing doing so. 

After prying that bitch out, you wiped your face and to your fucking dismay, spotted red stains all up on your hands. Your heart fell to the empty distilled pits of your stomach, to the pits of your gooch - 

"IS THAT FUCKING BLOOD? OH MY GOD AM I FUCKING, LIKE, HURT?!" you freaked - you were quite literally wounded in battle. You took a sniff. "Oh, just tomato sauce. I'm so silly!" 

You smiled to yourself happily, slowly remembering that ravioli - the one highlight of this mess. Your tummy rumbled. 

"If only there was a cart full of foo - oh my god there's one right there," in front of you was a shopping cart that apparently spawned out of nowhere filled with goodies. Literally perfect!

You approached it, mesmerized by its contents - more canned ravioli, Dolly Parton's buttercream frosting, a tub of fresh watermelon, some bags of gummy worms, some bags of Wingstop wings (with fries and ranch!), tubs of water (of which you credited this random shopping cart being sent from some higher power because it wasn't Dasani or Zephryhill), Combo's and, perhaps most importantly, a jar of spear dill pickles. 

You could've cried. 

And you did. 

But you stopped after like ten seconds because remember it's nighttime a girl needs to GO!

You took that shopping cart and began walking down the scene where that Fast and Furious ass scene went down, now lifeless of any activity but bullet-riddled crashed cars, piles of broken cement, dead bodies, and random spouts of smoke. You felt like just a girl, walking down an average street in New York, living a single, nepo-fueled and quaint life. 

"If only I had my headphones," you thought, now saddened that your phone and sound-proof headphones had been long-dead. "I LITERALLY pay my fucking bills, like?" 

You continued walking, just a girl with her shopping cart, when you spotted a clearing in some forest area, which seemed very familiar to you. 

"Lowkey, I think this is a short-cut to my house?" you said to someone, apparently. (There's no one around you but that's never stopped you.)

You went down into the wood, like a girl with just her shopping cart going through a magical Studio-Ghibli-esque forest that sprouted between two demolished buildings into some portal into the spirit world. Though it was pretty difficult to push the lowkey-broken shopping cart on anything but flat flooring, causing you to have some bouts of intolerable anger so powerful it helped you yank the wheels stuck on uprooted roots, you thought, "hey, things could lowkey be worse? Like, let's just remember what Vanessa Hudgens said, 'Like, yeah, people are gonna die which is terrible but like...inevitable?' "

And people did die, BUT, you did have Wingstop fries, so. 

And now, it wasn't just a whole shopping cart of goodies that you would return home with, but some granola?!

A pile of perfectly placed granola sat pretty on the ground in front of you, with some berries and yogurt bits scattered in - just fucking delicious and any vegan mommy's dreams.

"Oh my god," your mouth salivating, inhumanely - a Kubrick stare fell over your face as you eyed the fuck out of that horse feed.

"I could lowkey fuck UP some granola," your stomach said, the only decipherable thing she's said in a loooooooong time. Long time.

When you clocked out of your gaze, you walked on over, ready to scoop up the entire pile, relishing in the self-fulfillment and satisfaction you imagined was what those Neanderthals felt way back when. This little hunting and gathering thing we got going on here? Ain't that hard. 

You stood over it, grabbing the pile that happened to be conveniently sitting on a plastic mat, attached with some strings that went places you didn't really give a fuck to know about. All that mattered, was that the stars were aligned for you tonight, the moon must've been in your favor. You didn't need a tarot reader to know that life, well, was good now. Life laugh love even through apocalypse <3

"Man, mama eaten GOOOOOOD tonight!" you bellowed, giggling, dancing slightly back and forth like the fat ass you are, "I wondered if the Neanderthals ever dabbled in a little grano - "

"Grhasjdhfsdsknfjs."

You froze. 

Ain't. No. Fucking. Way. 

You looked up slowly. 

"Biiiiitccchhhhhh," you said, in disbelief. 

"Grajsdhfsajdsk," she said, more sassier than ever. 

"No - NO! This is MINE!" you warned the same fungus girl from earlier. She stood, several feet away, creepily standing in the dark now that the sun was pretty much set. Let's just say, HELLA liminal spaces-core. HELLA ominous with it.

She didn't reply. Instead, she began creeping closer to you, looking at you up and down like an old man checking out a girl walking by who HAPPENS to be in a tank top. You loved your LGBTQ+, but girl needed to be a little smoother in her approach! 

"No. Back off NOW!" you shot back, now standing straighter. After some time out in this life, you learned it's best to approach these girls like you would a bear, if, ideally, you were able to keep yourself calm enough so much so you could think clearly - just stand straight and tall. Stand your GROUND stand your GRANOLA if you will. 

"I'm warning you, girl. No means no. I found it first, fair and fucking square." 

She kept coming, now closer than ever. She wasn't taking no for an answer. You almost gagged at her peeling face, icked the fuck out, but didn't wanna be THAT outwardly rude. She was looking you up and DOWN. (It admittedly boosted your ego up a little, like, were you lowkey hot right now?)

It was clear she wasn't backing down. Your bear tactic went down the toilet. 

She began running. 

Full. 

Speed. 

"Jesus, fine we can share, girl, okay?"

Let's just say, she meant business. Bitch was about to pimp-slap you across the face for that granola. 

"Bro it's that I said we could shaAAAAAAAAAAA - "

But itt was too quick. Too sudden. 

One moment you were about to post-up with the fungus tweaker and the next you were plummeted to the ground by an unseeable force, every ounce of wind pushed out from every crevice of your body, the granola popping into the air like confetti that became shrapnel against the fungus girl, lodging itself into her already fucked-up face.

You gasped for air, in complete shock, whatever force holding you down to the ground - you looked up to see what actual 200+ pound of muscle football fuck just tackled you. Is the granola like the football right now? Did you just touchdown or whatever right now? 

It was him - the same guy from earlier. 

You were too exasperated to speak, literally non-verbal. All he saw were your wide ass eyes, gaping open mouth begging for air like a fish out of water (fish don't breath air, little fun fact! :D) and Beetlejuice hairdo, some tomato sauce still crusted around your lips. 

He suddenly lifted himself up, whipped out a bat from his side and beat that fungus girl to DEATH. Like, BEAT. 

"Oh fffff - uckaaaa," you were able to muster, "there go my Chiro sessions -" 

You rose up, struggling, feeling physically and spiritually like a stomped-on roach, watching this man absolutely go ballistic on the girl. She wasn't even identifiable anymore, just a big mess of red gross goo and shit. 

The little girl from earlier stood closely, like you, just completely entranced with the very ugly and quite frankly inappropriate violence for a child like her to be witnessing. It was like the Reddit 50/50 challenge all over again. (P.S. so like if you look up what that challenge is DON'T press images like I absentmindedly just did literally right after typing that to see if it was still up - Sam <3).

After he was done wailing, he stood straight, caught his breath, bringing himself back to reality from that outburst. He wiped blood off his dome and looked to you, a face of both complete disappointment and disgust that only comes with a man 50 and up. 

Your short-tempered, therapist-diagnosed anger flew over you - physically raging like a boy who got his house blown up by a creeper in Minecraft. Again, what did we say about nighttime???

"You. Fucking. DICK!!!!" you spat, your control now completely lost, "DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH IT FUCKING COSTS FOR A CHIRO SESSION?! DON'T YOU KNOW THEY DON'T EVEN EXIST ANYMORE, APPARENTLY?!??! DO I LOOK LIKE TRAVIS KELCE?!?!? DO I LOOK LIKE A QUARTER POUNDER OR WHATEVER THE FUCK?!?! ARE YOU TRYING TO ROLE PLAY AS TAYLOR WHEN THE CHIEFS WON?! I AIN'T A FUCKING SWIFTIE LIKE THAT!!!!!!"

After your spewing, you took a deep breath. It felt pretty good, you even smiled. 

His face fell. 

"Are you fucking crazy?" he bellowed back, "Are you out of your mind?! What were you thinking?!"

"I was literally JUST sharing food. I had that handled. I was like, breaking - breaking bad. Like Jesus..?" you knew there was something wrong there. Now you felt embarrassed. "No, wait - that's bread. Whatever fuck it I FUCKED THAT UP! But I'm NOT meth head, I'm NOT LIKE HER!" you pointed at the now mass of flesh and fungi. Gross. 

"I just saved your fucking life," he now came in close, towering over you and pointing, intimidating and furious. His southern drawl was in full action. (Uh oh you found this hot little does he know). "That granola back there was a fucking deer trap!" 

"Well," you started, biting your tongue like a mom, "it seems you've trapped my 'deer' ol' hear -" 

The girl stepped forward before you could finish that not well-timed flirt. "Wait, aren't you from the supermarket? Earlier?" she asks, now laughing, "That was crazy!" 

"Ellie, don't." The man stepped back, guarding the girl from you. He was weary. "Who are you?"

"I'm me," you said, arms crossed, unplucked and overgrown eyebrows raised. "Who are you?"

"Joel....?" the girl named Ellie said, worriedly. He seemed to chill out a bit. He looked over to her with a face that read: Don't worry. I know this bimbo means no harm." 

During that moment, you really took the scene in - and that scene? This man in front of you with the hick ass name Joel. Joel? Well, 

"Why he kindaaaaaa," BOTH sides of your brain said. "No, no I can't. Not here and not again, like time and place," you thought to yourself, but unbeknownst to you you said aloud. Safe to say, they looked at you oddly.

But you couldn't control your thoughts or your emotions. They are, after all, your thoughts and emotions which are usually, like Vanessa said, inevitable? 

He was tall, burly, and graying - with such a masculine aura it was insane. The strong, silent types, as your ex-boyfriend/ex-sugar daddy, Tony Soprano, would've adored. His whole rugged look - dirt on the face, unkept hair and facial hair, tired eyes, somewhat smelly...

Then it hit you. 

Is this it? 

Is this him? 

Is this your RICK?????

You didn't realize it, but you were staring. Not in the Kubrick this-bitch-fucking-crazy way, but in the, this-bitch-out-of-it way. You shook yourself back to reality. If you were going to bag this man, you needed to act indifferent. 

A moment went by, no one spoke.

"Well.... y'all gonna eat this?" you asked, motioning to all the scattered granola.

They didn't reply.

"Okay slay!" You bent down to start picking up all the pieces. You weren't, after all, gonna let all that go to waste like these bozos would. 

You popped one in your mouth, chomping that stale piece. "Mmmm. Mhm. Yeah. Sprout's. Def." 

You continued to pick them up, the man named Joel now scoffing in disbelief of the situation. You perked up and turned to the Ellie girl. "Hey girlie, you want?" 

Ellie the girl happily grabbed some, chewing on it for what looked like the first time. You were confused, judging, but thought it best to not judge. 

"Ggrjsdfjsakjdfska."

All three of you stood straight, frozen. 

Another fungus bitch pulled up, arms out and perked up at the sight of y'all - his possible little buffet. He had on a Vineyard Vines t-shirt and a pair of Sperry's. In summation? Ugly. His face was also fucked up.

"Oh, my god," you said, over it, "what ever happened to finders fucking keepers? Y'all getting on my damn NERVES! Hold this girl," you passed the collected granola into Ellie's arms. Joel, getting prepped to probably curb stomp this once-private and probably racist schoolboy, soon stopped once he saw you step up to the ring. 

As mentioned before, you never liked to resort to violence, but there comes a time...

You grabbed that zombie by the hair, and began to wail on it with one punch after another, grabbing it's man-bun ponytail and slamming its body onto the ground, continuing to obliterate it's my-daddy-has-a-boat ass, completely disassociating with anger. 

Joel and Ellie watched in both horror and amazement at your abilities. 

"You fucking bitch back the FUCK off bro!" you muttered. The last time you fought with this same manner and vigor was in the school bathrooms over a juul. Those cookie-monster PJ pants girls taught you well. 

Once you landed him in an induced coma, you rose up, took in a deep breath and searched his Bermuda short's side pockets, feeling for the all familiar shape. And there she was. 

You pulled it out - there she was in all her beauty. 

"Speaking of!" you said, examining the blueberry fume. As mentioned, it was just like those bathroom fights. "Yes YES! I used to know a girl who FUCKED these up! I just KNEW he'd carry!" 

Just then, the rich boy moved. You clocked it, and kicked it on its side. It rose and quickly ran off, frightened, as you continued to yell some more obscenities. You hit the fume - shit was still kicking. 

You turned back. "Sorry guys, I'm just, I try to be patient with them, and I am, don't get me wrong. I know COVID has everyone acting, you know, off their shit but," you looked to the now deceased fungus tweaker. "Poor girl. She just wanted some granola bits." 

Joel furrowed his brows, very confused. "Why would you be 'patient' with them? They're infected!" 

"Hey! That's not a nice way to characterize victims of diseases - drugs are real, like don't you know about fenty? And I'm not even talking about Rihan -"

"They're runners! They're not human!"

You turned back to the limping 'runner', now confused too. 

"Runners?" you asked, turning back. 

Joel nodded. "Yeah. Infected. Undead." 

"You mean, like, zombies?"

Joel took a minute, seemingly embarrassed that he hadn't thought of something so obvious as that sooner. 

"You know," you shrugged, tired, blowing out an obnoxious cloud of smoke from the fume, a cloud, if you will, "they're just going through it." 

Ellie looked to Joel, unsure of what to make of your comments. 

It was now nighttime, and after massively failing to locate or find your way back home, Joel, out of pity that you were a bit of a bimbo, allowed you to stay with them for one night. 

You all were camped (ew I know) in the middle of a forest, it was pitch black outside all except for the small fire in front of you all where Joel had baked beans cooking. Apparently, your perfect shopping cart with the goodies vaporized into the air, because it was nowhere in sight after the whole shabackle and hubbub. Joel suggested in a, what you swore was, passive-aggressive way, that you were so starved you began hallucinating it. You knew that was most probably the case but would've rather eat a fungus off one of those 'runners' or whatever's faces than admit that. And you would've, again, rather eat that toe fungus than mentioned your probable house's carbon dioxide leakage.

Anyway, back to the scene - Ellie is knocked out in her sleeping bag, leaving you and Joel to sit across from each other in a pretty awkward silence as you ate those gross ass beans. There were some moments you caught yourself about to complain about them and claim they tasted like 'dick', but thought it best not to. But, you needed to say something about this, you couldn't just hold it in. 

"How's the beans?" Joel asked, quietly and moodily as usual.

"Tbh," you said, the first thing spoken in like an hour, "...I just want, like, sushi, man."

His face fell a bit.

"But this isn't bad! Trust me!" you quickly tried saving yourself, feeling very quite bad, "look, I've had beans in England. Some say the bean capital of the world, there's literally a dude from there named Mr. Bean. And this is so much better."

He was too confused to reply.

You felt a fly buzz by your ear - one of your number one hated sensories to be crossed - and smacked it. You HATED the outdoors too, as much as you hated these beans. It reminded you of when you had exited your home after months being inside and how quickly that 'touching-grass' shit got old. 

But still, no complaining. 

You glanced over at him, and you couldn't help but think - man this dude looks familiar. Very familiar. You weren't sure if it's just cause you haven't seen another person in some time, or in this case, another man in so long that your brain basically said: "man = every other man" and that's the reason you thought he looked 'familiar'. But, no, no - you'd SEEN this man before. Did you have a dream about him? No, that was Rick. Actually, now that you thought about it, he lowkey looked like some of your ex's? 

"What's your name?" you asked, trying to break the awkward silence. You knew, but had forgotten. 

He hesitated, his grumpy ass chewing on those beans. "Joel. Joel Miller." 

"Oh my god, you're real?" And that was it - THAT'S why he looked familiar! "I literally wrote a fan fiction about you in class, and submitted that as my final! Everything really does come full circle when you think about it." You went back to eating your beans, waiting for him to respond, which he didn't really do a lot. You thought it best to move on. 

"Well, Joel. Can I tell you something?" 

He hesitated again, a little longer. "What?"

"So like, I've only been out here for like, a week? Or two? To be honest I don't remember. Could be a month, but like, what happened?"

"What do you mean what happened?" that southern drawl coming out more now that he was annoyed/mad that you'd even ask a question like that. 

You shrugged and looked around. "Like, all this?" you said, obviously. 

He let out a tired breath.

"Well, there were this fungu -"

Just as he was about to explain, you interrupted, unknowingly, going on more about your cluelessness. 

" - Like, one minute I'm in a resort, you know, the White Lotus one, sipping marg's on the beach, for like a month? My ex-boyfriend slash sugar daddy at the time, AND I only say ex cause he hasn't gotten back to me since all this shit happened so I just assumed he broke it off with me but whatever, that's not the point, Tony - Tony's his name - paid for my stay. It was great, I was living pretty, you know, lavishly? VERY lavishly, actually. I was tanning, being massaged, going through a whole cleanse, you know? No phone, no internet. I had a bunch of books recommendations from TikTok, but to be honest I didn't really read them cause the words just don't process, you know? You just need to bring it with you to make people THINK you read, you know? Anyway, I'm there, and who do I see? Fucking Jared Leto! Yeah, that creepy ass bitch! He had his whole cult there, like they're weird Jonestown retreat or whatever, and I wanted to join cause it looked fun but I knew I probably couldn't be married to him, you know, how all those cult leaders are. Anyway whatever, it was great. I was having a great time, Big Ange was even there and she left me her green glasses and I've been meaning to give them back to her - "

"- Where'd you say you were staying at again?"

"White Lotus? In Jersey?"

"There's a beach resort in Jersey?"

"No, I know what you mean. It's where Tony was from, but it's a faux beach. The beach? It's faux. Stops the smell of rotting 'whacked' bodies, you know, cause that's not very resort like?"

He nodded, he understood. 

"Yeah. Anyway," you said, annoyed he interrupted you, "I'm there, in my room, sleeping, and there's a knock at my door. I go and it's the lobby guy or whatever, he's like rushing me out telling me about how my stay is over cause there's a cold going around and I have to leave, like? I'm sorry, I paid - well Tony paid - for the whole month and a half? But what am I gonna do, you know? So I'm like fine fucking party poopers, and they kick me out, like a fucking cartoon, down the steps of the place and toss my luggage. At first I was mad, cause like, what's a little cold? And then I look outside where they kicked me out and the world is like, over? Everything ended? Over a fucking cold? Shit was like, demolished. And then they shut the door behind me leaving me to fend for myself, like I'm sorry? Do I look like Bear Grylls? Do I look like 'Survivor'? Like I got this shit handled? So whatever, I walked back home and let's just say: Culture. Shock. Insane. Like, whaaattttt? Covid was worse than I thought! Then I get home, my power's out, my water, everything. And shit was DIRTY! Like as if I'd been gone for twenty fucking years. I couldn't check Twitter or anything, it wasn't loading so I couldn't find out what the big deal was. Like, guys, can we talk about the political and economic state of the world right now? AND I had a blister on my toe from the walk! It sucked!" 

(Told you we'd revisit! Now, we're revisited!)

Once you were finished with your impromptu story time, Joel intently listening, he went onto explain after the whole lore of the political and economic state of the world right now, how it wasn't even political or economic, just a virus. Shit was crazy. Fungus, coffee beans and spinach, Fire fly people, rations, explosions, the whole deal. You were tapped in, realizing you didn't space out cause he was just so fine to look out you genuinely cared about what he had to say. And he said it. 

A sullenness came over him, and you hated to say - it was pretty hot. But time and place! It just occurred to you that he didn't seem like the type to open up, so him being vulnerable just made you think, wow, he's a human! And he's hot! 

After he finished, there was a sad silence in the air. 

"Man....covid really was worse than I thought," you replied. 

"Now do you get it? They're not real people or 'girlies'. They're infected," he said. "Do you have any experience with them? Besides the one you beat on and scared away today?"

"What makes you think I don't have any experience?" you replied, with a little flirtatious-sass in your voice. You knew you didn't have experience. 

"Cause no experienced person would have willingly beaten up an infected the way you did without fear of being scratched or bit. It was reckless and stupid what you did."

"Yeah but I fucked his ass up," you said, hyping yourself up in the process. "But lol you're kinda right. Nah, yeah the most experience I have with zombies is Black Ops. Those bitches give me the heeby JEEBIES!" 

"You think this Tony is still alive?"

"I don't know, actually," you said. "We got into a pretty bad argument before I left, that's why I left, you know, to the resort, for some space and a break between each other. So I doubt he'd call me back now." 

"What about?"

"He's like a big animal guy, you know? Whatever, his fucking horse died and I literally didn't know, no one told me. There was a candle lit at the vet when they were putting him down and I was like, as a joke, 'guys! It's lit right now!' and he was all like, 'what he fuck is wrong with you?'. He was annnnggrryyyyyyy. I didn't read the paper beside the candle saying to be quiet, that they were putting it down," you said, shrugging. "Really sad. She was a pretty horse, you know? Cunty." 

Joel nodded. This was all a very serious affair for him. It bummed you out, everything was so serious and sad out here. 

"So these zombies aren't girl's girls after all? They're like, anti-girlies?" you asked, mainly as a statement of fact you were coming to terms with rather than a question. 

"I guess so," he said. "Whatever the fuck that means," he also said, not as audible. That explosion earlier left you more partially deaf. 

He looked down and continued to fiddle and play with his beans with his fork, not taking much interest in his appetite anymore.  There was a moment of silence between you guys, more comfortable than before. You both felt the bond of this shared experience bring you guys together a bit, in this very moment. He didn't feel much of a stranger anymore, and neither did you to him. You felt, truly, he was a man who lost something too...

The solemness on him, again you hated to admit, you found very attractive. EXTREMELY attractive, actually. The last time you saw a relatively attractive man was months ago at the resort, and he was, unfortunately, (but not unfortunately for the gays) a gay man. RIP ARMAND <3. So safe to say, you were rabidly horndogging. He was the type of man that has a LOT of shit going on, but doesn't talk about it, but DOES look like it. 

But you knew how to handle this - it wasn't your first rodeo. 

"So are you, like, single, orrr...?" you asked, sheepishly, acting like you are so not trying to get at him right now. 

"Why do you ask?" he replied, somewhat guarded. 

"Well cause you got a daughter and all, like is there a wife orrr - ?"

" - She's not my daughter." 

"Damn. Okay. So you're like babysitting orrr?"

He thought for a moment. "Sure," he replied, cautiously. 

"Man, you're just triggering my daddy issues!" you joked but it horrendously didn't land, "just kidding!" You giggled, casually and nervously. What happened to time and place?

TIME JUMP!!!!!

Remember how I said Joel just let you stay with them for one night? Well now it's been like six months and you're halfway across the country, in another truck! Yay!

Despite him giving clear signs that you two were to part, (not wanting to outright DIRECTLY say so cause he didn't wanna be rude), it was clear you weren't able to those read social cues that well. (Actually, you did, you read them quite well, but wanted to pretend not to because he was now your Rick and you lowkey mentally imprinted on him on some Twilight shit). He eventually gave up all hope, pitying you in a way. The only positive he saw was how you did all the talking with Ellie, since his ass is basically mute.

You became a sort of bigger sister/cool aunt for her, which you ate the fuck up. You had to fill her in on EVERYTHING: the Dramageddon lore, the Challengers summer experience, Ariana Grande/Spongebob fiasco, Kendrick v. Drake beef, Jojo's Karma's a Bitch and how she's the first self-proclaimed lesbian to ever exist, Colleen Ballinger's ukulele apology, finding out about the Queen's death and Twitter, the Montgomery riverfront fight, and more that aren't too important to mention. You thought it best to fill her in on shit a girl her age would fuck up, like what kid cares about the political and economic state of the world right now? Anyway you two got along very well, she made you giggle and you made her giggle, the perfect vibe! Joel lowkey admired you for, (and found it hot), the way you were with her. What could you say? All those years in early childhood back in high school meant something after all! Not just D grades and getting caught with a cart in your backpack!

Speaking of Joel, he definitely wouldn't show it, but like I said, he began to like you a bit. Actually, fuck that middle school shit and 'liking' - he began to FALL for you! On some romantic period piece shit! And who wouldn't? Besides those moldy Spongebob shorts, crusty yet fast Lightening McQueen Crocs and Beetlejuice hair, you were a natural beauty! Girl you were bad asf!!!!

Now in another pick-up, y'all were moving cross cuntry. You had your feet out the window, letting them get that breeze as you watched the Microsoft Windows default wallpaper-esque landscape pass on by. Ellie was in the back reading her nerd ass comic books, while Joel drove, of course, in silence. You were literally his passenger princess. If only you had a phone and AUX, cause your Spotify roadtrip playlist would so hit right now.

But again, what's in Ohio?

All you knew, was that they needed to get to Ohio. What's in Ohio? Who the fuck knows. Logan Paul? London? Yes, there's a London in Ohio, you knew that all to well when you accidentally booked a flight there instead of the actual London in England high off a Benadryl pill. But you wouldn't mention that to Joel.

You weren't sure what the fuck was up with Ohio, all he said was that they needed to get there. You thought it best not to question too much, afraid of losing that passenger princess spot.

(hey! it's Sam and my dumbass just realized that it's Utah they're going to, not Ohio. Apparently they wanna meet up with the Mormons, not Prime's own, Logan Paul. Whatever same hick ass states anyway I'm not gonna change it so proceed!)

"I wish I had my phone or AUX right now," you said, sadly. "I have this Spotify roadtrip playlist that would sooooo hit right now."

He gave you a side eye, his normal response.

"What song would you play?" Ellie asked.

"Hmm, let me think," you said, now thinking. "Probably like, Lana's cover of 'Take Me Home, Country Roads'? You know, cause we're like on country roads right now."

Joel gave you another side eye. You peeped. This was a perfect prying moment!

"Do you know that song?" you asked Joel. Y'all barely spoke anything personal (actually, YOU spoke at lengths, without being asked, about your personal stuff, but not vice versa. He was a great listener, though).

"Yeah. I know it," he said, quietly. You knew there was more.

Just as you were about to say something, he interrupted.

"But I don't know who that 'Lana' is."

"Oh, Joel, you'd fuck UP Lana! She's like the bridge between girlies and middle-aged men, not for the same reasons but a bridge nonetheless!"

You all then began to talk about music, but it usually involved just you and Ellie pairing up to bully, in a friendly way, Joel. It was fun to make fun of him, in a friendly way. You got so much enjoyment out of bugging these grown ass men, cause their egos were so fragile. You also just kind of found it hot that you could do that, with Joel as NO exception.

As mentioned before, he was very quiet. And you're a talker. See the problem? You were waiting for the right moment, when after all this buildup and trust would, well, buildup into trust, enough for him to open up to you. And when that day comes, it won't be just his mouth opening up!

You also got pretty good at learning how to defend yourself against the zombie girlies. Not that you didn't know before, but now, with Joel's help, you were able to take down multiple at once. You ate that shit up, feeling like one of those hot Resident Evil characters. Joel was even impressed, which made you pretend more like it was 'no biggie' as you'd usually say. What you didn't say, of course, was how your asshole clenched from fear every time you saw one and how you ached all over from fighting! But why would you?! Appearances are lowkey everything!!

The skyline of the city finally came into view. Fuck if you knew which city it was, you lost track. Your stomach rumbled. You cradled it as if you were "so I'm thirty-four weeks today", softly and longingly. You needed to eat. The rumble was loud, causing Joel to look over.

"You okay?"

"Does it sound like it? I'm hungry," you said. "Where's my fume?" You began to pat yourself down for that appetite suppressant, having an addict's moment of panic that you may have lost it. You didn't, she just thought she'd be funny and slip between the cracks of the chair and armrest. You pulled that bitch out and envisioned it was a Five Guy's cheeseburger as you inhaled that faux blueberry chemical.

"Guys, what's this?" Ellie asked, reaching over to the front, pointing to a roll of sushi illustrated in her comic. You didn't know Batman had time to eat sushi, but,

"Oh, FUCK!" you bellowed. "Sorry, Ellie. Excuse my French. I could so eat that right now."

You then caught a glimpse of a rather large scar on her forearm. Shit looked crazy.

"Uh, Ellie," you said. "I don't wanna like, overstep or be rude, I know it's none of my business."

Joel and Ellie suddenly tensed up. At this moment, they both knew the mistake Ellie had just made. You didn't, of course, which was why they were concerned.

Ellie backed up softly, quickly covering up her scar. Joel shifted in his seat.

"Uh, yeah? What is it?" Ellie asked wearily.

"That scar," you said.

Ellie gulped. Joel tightened his grip on the wheel.

"You should slap some scar cream on that. Like, Mederma? Ever heard of it?"

"Mederma?" Ellie asked.

Joel let out a relieved breath. He raked his hand through his hair, self-soothingly. They were good. Thank god for your lack of social cues.

"It's, uh, a scar cream," Joel answered lowly.

"It helps, trust. Once, I was on a city bike in Miami Beach, fell right onto the concrete and ate shit. It was bad, but once that scar closed, I lathered that cream on, and that's it. Now I don't even remember where the scar is. The doctor said it was from memory loss after smacking my head on the ground, but I really think it was the Mederma. So yeah. Get some if you can," you said.

"Uh huh. Okay," Ellie said. She wasn't really listening, instead trying to relax herself from you almost finding out about what was really in Ohio (Utah). And you wanna know something? It's not Logan Paul (Mormons).

"Anyway, yeah that food? It's sushi. It's sooooo good. So good," you said, reminiscing about those rolls. "So good. So so sooooo good."

"What's sushi?"

"Anything you want it to be, honestly. But usually fish," you said.

You took a moment.

"FUCK!" you yelled again, the anger of craving sushi so animalistic, "Sorry, sorry. I just, I just really want sushi. I wish you could try it Ellie, I think you'd like it. Joel, do you like sushi?"

"Never had it."

"What?"

"I've never had it."

"How have you never had sushi?"

"I just haven't."

"Well, you should."

"I can't."

"Why not? You allergic to fish?"

"No."

"Why?"

"Cause we're in a goddamn apocalypse," he replied, this time quite irritated.

"Well, if you do, let me know. I want a piece," you said, a little sassy, looking back out the window.

He then turned to give you a hard look. It was a mix of anger and confusion, the usual.

"You know," he started, trying to think of the words, "you're weir -"

" - JOEL WATCH OUT!!!!!!!"

Joel shot his head straight forward, to see a zombie standing in the middle of the road.

BAMBOOMSD AHSDFJKASJDFKSJSKLDJFAS

He swerved, causing you're not-wearing-seatbelt-ass to slam into the passenger car door, then rag doll as you held on for dear life on the grab handles above as you flipped over and over and over and over and over and over from the sheer power and magnitude of that swerve.

BOOM CRASH BOOFS FJADSJJDASKDSAADS CRASH BOOM POPSJDKFJASFAS

"OH SHI -"

You looked like Jay Leno in that one video where the car repeatedly flips over and over, with Joel holding his arm out trying to keep you down (didn't work).

BOOM CRASH POWEBSDAJFJSAKDA BOOF BAM POWBOOMSADJF

It just kept going.

CRASHBOOM JSDHSIFHJSA CRASH SJDFLSAFDKL FLIPSD FASKJDFSSDOAFLIP SADJFKSAJFD

Kept going.

BOOM CRASHDJSAKDFJSALDJ FAS

Yo lowkey when this gonna stop?

BOOM CRASH BOOFS FJADSJJDASKDSAADS CRASH BOOM POPSJDKFJASFASSDJFSKAKDADAS.....

SJKDFASKLJDFS boom pop.....crash...

It finally stopped!

You groaned awake, feeling FUCKED up your shit was ROCKED.

"Get up! GET UP!" Joel yelled, already having been out the car with Ellie.

"Oh my god okay chill I literally just flipped?"

"It's a trap! They're raiders!"

"What -"

"TA-TATA-ATATATATATPPAPAPAATATATATTAAAA!!!!"

You rolled your eyes bro not again.

All three of you took cover behind the now dilapidated truck as the raiders shot from the other side of the road.

You weren't even scared now, just over it like? Likeeee???????

Joel started shooting back, and so did you and though your aim was pretty shit you managed to take out some of them. You found that not looking and just shooting overhead and all over the place was the best tactic! Let the bullet find its own way <3

"Oh my god, Joel, I got an idea!" you said.

"What?!" he bellowed, very busy with the whole gunfire and all.

"We should make a bomb!"

"How?!"

"Mazel tov cocktail?"

"You mean molotov?!"

"Why are you correcting me? We have to think fast not be correcting each other get your priorities straight Joel oh my god?! Am I the only one taking this seriously?!?!?"

You dropped that gun on the floor and began to craft the bomb with such efficiency and grace, you felt like a little brainiac. You thought this may have been how the Unabomber felt like if he actually succeeded. (Thank god he didn't though lol right?? btw fbi I'm not a terrorist sympathizer!!! - Sam)

Let's just say - the pressure was on! As you were crafting the bomb, shots continue to fly by overhead, blowing comically large holes in Beetlejuice-esque hair. Joel kept rushing you, which you didn't appreciate like no shit I'm trying to go fast? Why would I not be trying to go fast dumbass?

Once you finished, you lit the cloth's end and turned to Joel and threw it at him, "THINK FAST JOEL!"

He, petrified, grabbed it in midair and looked at you with a look of complete awe. And it wasn't the good kind. More a look of horror, actually. Offended horror.

"WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU THROW IT AT ME?!?!?!"

"UH, DOES IT LOOK LIKE I HAVE GOOD EYE-HAND COORDINATION?!?! YOU THROW IT!?!?!"

In disbelief, he threw the molotov on the other side of the car and took cover.

You all ducked, and you took out your Dollar Store sunnies to cover your eyes from, essentially, the war crime you've just committed.

Let's just say - Oppenheimer would've been jealous. It wasn't your first time making a molotov, but something was different in the air that day, because you pretty much made the equivalent of one atomic bomb in that little glass Jarritos bottle.

The light from the bomb was so bright, for a second's moment, everything seemed still and dead silent, muted almost, as the bright glare lit everything around you all - you all braced yourselves, readying for the sound - the boom.

And girl.

Did it boom.

"Boom," said the Jarritos bottle.

The bomb? Yeah, pretty big. The effectiveness? Yeah, pretty and literally groundbreaking. The sound? Yeah, deafening.

Shards of metal, glass, unidentifiable body parts, and other mumbo jumbo flew right past you all from behind the truck, as you all huddled together, still tense from the impact.

If it wasn't for the fact that, as previously mentioned, you were already lowkey deaf from AirPods, you'd definitely be a mute. The sound riveted through all y'all's ear drums, sprinkling in a little tinnitus behind.

You guys crept up to see the damage. You pretty much did more than enough, they all literally died. The coast was definitely clear and y'all were good to go!

You three then grabbed your bags and started to walk down the road into the city, all in a stunned silence. You weren't that stunned, really, (it wasn't your first time making bombs as you did notably do some freelance work for Escobar), but Ellie and Joel had the same look like that one pic of that thousand-yard-stare soldier.

Joel was also quite pissed off, he just had that grumpy ass face he always has, but more intense. You assumed it was cause of the whole shabackle, but couldn't understand why he didn't see a reason to smile right now like? We're literally walking alive! Yeah, walking instead of driving, but alive!

"Uh, what's with the long face girl?" you asked, trying to spread your happiness.

He didn't respond.

As you got closer to the city, your patience was running thinner. The big ass backpack you had on kept slipping cause one of the straps was fucked up, causing you to have to constantly shift it upwards. It was reallllyyyyy starting to tick you off. You felt like a middle schooler who hasn't learned it's cooler to just bring a folder and chewed up pencil to school. It was also heavy as fuck with a ton of random bullshit like Joel's Linda Ronstadt CD's and Ellie's nerd ass comic books. Look, you were all for physical media, but you were also all about setting the bag on fire and catapulting it Ancient Rome style for another raider's battle. You kept this to yourself until then, though, like mama's lil secret <3.

Now in the city, you guys took a shortcut through some random building. You weren't sure it was a smart shortcut, cause it's a random building, but you were too exhausted to really gaf and ask. Plus, Joel didn't seem in the mood. He never was.

You were all creeping through the abandoned, smelly, rotting, moldy hallways, finding out it used to be a dispensary, and thought you could find some, you know, good loot or whatever. So you mentioned to Joel and Ellie that'd you look around and split off. Joel knew you were going to look for any scraps of weed like a raccoon feign, (your blueberry vape died during the battle)

You turned a corner, into a room, then looked around carefully. The place seemed pretty empty, so your guard? Very down.

"Slippppppping I'm slippingggggg," said the bag.

"Oh. My. Fucking. God," you said through gritted teeth, feeling a rise of deep anger. You violently thrusted it back on your shoulder, sore from the weight as you turned a corner. "Fucking dumbass back pack -"

You then hit the wall, as you were too distracted and fixated on the bag.

"Oh fuck," you said, rubbing your head. You looked up.

"OH FUCK!"

It wasn't a wall, it was actually the fupa of a giant bloater. You stood, petrified, stunned - almost collapsing onto the ground from the fear that plummeted into you - you were Wendy Williams as the Statue of Liberty.

Then, it burped, just staring down at you.

"AY DIOS MIO!!!!"

Like a cartoon, you jumped in the air, turned the other way and hauled absolute ASS out of there.

"GUYS!!!! GUYS, WE GOT A FLOATER!!!!!!" you screamed, running and running, doing what you perhaps always seemed to do best.

It started to chase you, it's fee fi fo fum ass stomps echoing from behind. This was some temple run ass shit.

"Feee....Fi.....Fo.....Fummmm.....," the bloater's steps said.

You then felt that all too familiar feeling, down there. And not the good kind. You had to shit. That bloater? Yeah. Scared you so much it made your butthole say,

"I need to shit."

The anxiety of 1. a bloater, 2. your need to go shit, and 3. you not being able to locate neither Joel or Ellie, filled you with such dread. You really did now gaf.

"Feeeeee....Fiiiii.....Foooooo.....Fuuuuuummmm....."

"GUYS??!?! GUYS LIKE WHERE THE FUCK ARE Y'ALL?!?!? NO LIKE FOR REAL?!?!?!"

Every thought raced through your mind - did they die? Did they abandoned you? Or worse, did they stop somewhere to eat WITHOUT you????

"Feeeeeeeeeeee....Fiiiiiii.....Fooooooo.....Fuuuuuuuuuuummmm....."

"Ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygod," you rambled, holding one hand on your ass to keep the shit in and the other on that backpack strap.

"Slipping I'm slipping again!!!!" the bag said.

"OhmygodIHATETHISFUCKASSBACKPACK!!!!!" you screamed, then proceeded to grab it and yeet it full force at the bloater's fupa.

The power of your thrust was so monstrous it caused the bloater to fly mid-air backwards for several feet and land right through a glass window.

You didn't stop to check it out, now instead enjoying the free weight literally off your back and your faster paced running. Those Lightening McQueen Crocs were now in full force, in sports mode and ready to go. With every step, the sounds of tiny yet serious little engines squeaked out from below the heel.

You then spotted the pair, and to your relief they hadn't died, left you, or were eating. No, instead they were huddled in a corner, crouched down and holding their fingers to their mouth. It looked as though they were telling you to be quiet.

"Do you guys want me to be quiet?" you asked. At that moment, Joel's spirit died. He let his head fall in general disappointment.

Turns out, an entire group of clickers were in the room next door, overstimulated, triggered and ready to pounce, triggered from your maniacal distant screaming.

"Ohhh," you mouthed, nodding overtly your head in full understanding. You crept on over, now huddled with them.

"Where's your bag?" Ellie whispered.

"What bag?" you asked, then looking away as if disinterested. You thought the best way to explain the absence of the bag was to gaslight them into thinking there was no bag in the first place. "So what now?"

"Joel?" Ellie asked.

Joel thought for a moment. "We're going to walk across the room, quietly and slowly to the exit on the other side. No fighting, no shooting," he whispered.

"Okay lieutenant," you said, biting your tongue like a white mom. This was again your attempt at flirting but it didn't work. You really needed to better your timing.

You three began to creep down the hallway, and at first it was working great, up until two random stray clicker girls were hanging out at the exit doors.

You three stopped, Joel thought for a moment on how to handle this.

You couldn't stop. You still needed to shit, and you needed to shit now. You felt your asshole gaping for air, knowing that a fart was the last thing needed now. You held that shit in, but alas some things cannot be held in forever....

"Joel," you whispered in his ear, "I like, have to shit, bad. Like, emergency. Can we speed this up?"

He heard you and decided to ignore you.

He took out his gun, then turned to you both. "I'm gonna shoot, but then you two need to run through those doors. Don't stop and don't look back."

You two nodded.

He aimed, but at that moment, you had no control.

You couldn't hold her in anymore.

This was it.

You can't control nature's course.

You farted.

And he shoted.

But your fart was like a silencer? It worked? It was so subtle and swift, and its duration lasted long enough for two shots that the clickers took it as another one of their co-clickers farting.

The two fungi bitches dropped dead and nothing followed.

"Did you just fart?" Joel asked, breaking the silence.

"No, no - that was the bloater?" you turned behind, again using the gaslighting tactic. He looked behind, too, confused, and since you knew that bloater was probably busy reading comic books and listening to Linda Ronstadt some ways away, you thought it best to move on.

"So like we gonna go orrrr....?" you asked.

"We need to run," Joel said.

"Don't need to tell me twice!" you said before hightailing outta there, your Crocs doing wonders, and leaving them in the dust, (it was actually asbestos).

Running? Running was what you did best. It was so basic, so innate, there was really nothing to it. You always thought, had it not been for all these setbacks in your life, these side quests that just kept side questing you, you lowkey could've been a runner? Not the crackhead Flaka drug ones but, the other type of runner. But oh well c'est la vie.

You three made it out and ran for what seemed like miles and miles (it was across the street), before you stopped from the force of your imminent shit. Joel and Ellie ran past you, not waiting to save your ass, and climbed down some rubble. You tapped back in.

"Joel! JOEL!"

He turned to you, flustered and annoyed as the group of zombies echoed behind y'all like the sounds of minions.

"WHAT?!"

"I CAN'T CLIMB DOWN!"

"YES YOU CAN?!"

You looked down the rubble - you theoretically could, but didn't wanna make one wrong move and ledge your asshole open. Of course, though, you couldn't tell him that, boys aren't supposed to know that girls shit. So you hoped that maybe you acting as a girlie who needed a guy's unnecessary chivalry could so hit right now. He wasn't biting.

"WHAT?" he yelled, literally less than three feet below you.

It wasn't gonna work. The zombies incoherent ramblings grew louder and louder behind you. Looks like plan B - you needed to give him no choice.

He started to run back towards Ellie, before you stopped him.

"JOEL! CATCH MEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Like a baby who's dropped into the pool for the first time to 'learn how to swim' without any sense of physical agency or control, like a manic person running with their hands up and mouth agape, like a true damsel in distress, you hauled yourself off of that three-foot ledge, aiming for Joel's heroic yet un-consenting arms, all in a slo-mo.

Joel literally had no choice but to catch you, so he did, and your fat ass made him fall backwards onto the ground where it really fucked up his 50 year old, seniors discount breakfast-ass back.

"Oh fuck," you said, like a wounded grandma.

Joel groaned. You two looked at one another in the face, quite close, cause you were literally on top of him? Like omg this is so rom-com! Enemies to lover's type! Except you were always his enemy and you always thought he'd be your lover <3

Time stood still as you looked into one another's eyes. It was as if the whole world had stopped, and it was only you two - you inspected every wrinkle, gray hair, blackhead - he was beautiful.

"Uh, guys! We need to go?!" Ellie shouted.

"Oh shit I forgot -" you said and bounced right up, remembering your shit, and back to leaving.

You three were back to running, since it was not only your favorite activity but a common pastime in apocalyptic worlds. You were up ahead, again fueled by your natural instincts needing to shit, its adrenaline pumping through your veins as if you were the Flaka fungi people. It caused you to momentarily ponder - is the real reason why all these zombies are irritable is because they need to shit but can't, so they've been backed up for YEARS? A shiver went down your neck at just the thought.

You turned a corner between buildings, before stopping again in your tracks. A whole fucking HERD OF THEM BITCHES!!!!!!!!!!

You were frozen, petrified, stunned, silenced. Your face couldn't help but go into its natural fight or flight state - the soy face. And a mega one at that.

Joel stopped, looked at you frightened.

"What? What is it?!" he asked desperately.

But there was no time. Cause guess what? There's now bandits!!!

Then THEY started to chase you. Fuck the clickers. Fuck an iClicker!

You couldn't help but giggle. You couldn't help but be amused. Why are a bunch of bandits chasing a girl in SpongeBob shorts? Like they think you got the goods like that?! What's a girl with Spongebob shorts got? A probable yeast infection?

You didn't realize it, but your giggles were actually audible. You sounded like Pops from Regular Show.

"I'm just a girl, like whaaaaaa?" you giggled and shouted, running still. "Like, leave me alone what the fuck?!?!? This is crazy omg!!!"

Even Joel was confused, running beside you, thinking, 'why is this bitch giggling?'

Even the bandits took notice and got weirded out. So weirded out they actually stopped chasing y'all. You were treating an ambush like a frolicking sesh in the garden.

You supposed it was your brain trying to protect you, seeing that you were in actual danger of being killed. Maybe you genuinely couldn't believe it? Who knows. (I'm not a psychologist I'm sam st. Clair)

You all finally made it to a supermarket, where you boarded yourselves up once you scoped the place out. It was nighttime now, hella dark out and you couldn't guess shit where y'all were at. You just relied that Joel knew, it was your default since he's the self-proclaimed Rick of this little posse y'all got.

Anyway, you three split off, maybe because you all were tired of all the socializing you guys did back there. You didn't mind being alone, it gave you the opportunity to fart without anyone around to sniff or judge, or both. Speaking of farting, you took your shit the moment you slammed your ass on the toilet in the back, where the manager's office was. Shit was monstrous and you were sure you might've contracted some of the fungi since you were so determined to sit down that you didn't notice spores all up on the seat. But oh well. Your ass did start to itch, but you relied on your body to figure it out.

You got so bored you decided to walk up and down the smelly aisles, then found a pack of untouched, one of a kind, rare finds, vintage ZooPals. You remembered that Joel was making dinner, so thought these would be perfect!

You grabbed them fast, then went to present them to him. He was not so impressed.

"Joel, check it," you said, acting as if you were Christian Bale in American Psycho showing off your business card.

"That's extra weight," he said, dismissively and went back to cooking the beans.

"Are you kidding me?! This is some fine China right here," you protested. "Your boomer ass might be having a dementia episode or something not remembering the sheer value of what it is to eat off a ZooPal's plate."

His demeanor got sadder. You feared you might've crossed the line with the dementia comment.

"No," he mumbled solemnly. "They remind me of my daughter."

Your face dropped.

"Yikes. Sorry about that luv," (when you felt awkward you opted to go British). You then walked away. Best avoid that <3

That night you guys ate the beans and left in the morning, since Joel said apparently a supermarket isn't the best place to hide. You weren't sure why - if they carried ZooPal's, who know what else they could be hiding?

You kept walking down the street until you found a car that looked recently used. Joel tried starting it with the cables and shit whatever they do in the movies when they jumpstart a car. Red wire blue wire green fish two fish one fish blue fish.

"Can I drive?" you asked. You weren't sure what got into you, you literally don't have a license. Not that traffic violations mattered in these parts, but because you couldn't even tell left from right.

He gave you a look. "Fine."

"That was easy," you said.

As he began fixing it up, Ellie pointed to an object on the dashboard.

"What's that?" she asked.

You looked.

Oh no.

Not on my car.

"No. Not on my fucking car."

You grabbed that octopus stuffed animal dashboard bullshit, swung and threw that shit so far that it broke a nearby high-rise apartment window and exploded. It was a bomb and you inadvertently just saved everyone's life.

"How'd you know that was a bomb?" Joel asked, incredulously.

You knew the answer was that you didn't know it was a bomb, it was cause you actually hated nothing more on this earth than those octopus dashboard plushies, because every bad driver in a BMW happens to have one, so you thought you should go with the flow.

"I told you. I worked for Escobar. I can smell a bomb," you said.

"Wow. That's a crazy nose you have. It's like your superpower," Ellie said, geeking out.

"If it really was a superpower, I'd been able to stop Oppenheimer," you said.

She didn't get it.

Joel looked up, again, confused why you would say that in the first place.

"Sorry, it's before your time," you said, moving on quickly.

The car started and you three hopped in, ready to drive y'alls asses OUT OF HERE! You were excited, feeling that this was gonna be like a little roadtrip movie.

It was only two miles since you guys have driven and you had to contain your giddiness. Joel definitely wasn't happy and Ellie was to herself in the back reading her nerd ass comics. You just looked crazy laughing to yourself. You were just looking forward to the roadtrip vibes, FINALLY you guys found an actual working car so no more walking no more dilapidated backs no more annoying backpacks and oh shit there's a spider.

"OH SHIT THERE'S A SPIDER!!!" you freaked, seeing it dance slowly from the roof, hanging onto its web and literally three inches away from your face. You began to move yourself away, moving the steering wheel with it and thus moving the whole car off the road.

"Okay, calm down I got it -" Joel said.

"No Joel it's that I can't dude no Joel get it GET IT!" you demanded, feeling like an entity just possessed you with how deep and demented your voice got from the fear.

"Just keep the damn car still I can't grab it!"

He really couldn't, the more you turned the car, the more the spider swayed into your face, causing you to turn the car more and causing Joel to have trouble actually getting it. He was getting frustrated.

"Joel, we're gonna crash!" Ellie cried, trying to hide behind the seat.

The screaming and shouting also wasn't helping the vibe at all.

"I can't dude no Joel it's that I can't BRO FUCK! GET THAT BITCH!" you kept crying, "I'M NOT JOKING BRO!"

"KEEP DAMN STILL -"

Y'all crashed.

The random light post just HAPPENED to be in the way. Thankfully you guys weren't hurt, you just fucked up the car bad. And Joel was pissed. When he's mad, he's quiet. And he was QUIET.

"Well that was short," Ellie said as you three just stood looking at the demolished car. "So what now?"

The 'what now' was actually that you guys found a safe house literally less than a mile away. God finally gave y'all a little break!

It was down the road, in a little suburb. It seemed to have belonged to others, since it was all boarded up and defensed up and the only sign of life left in the house was a infected fungi girl strapped to a chair in the bedroom, placed in front of a tv screen playing a VHS tape of Friends.

You thought it best to put it out of its misery, so you turned off the tv.

You patted her on the back, caring and lovingly as she snarled at you, "No one deserves to be forced to sit and watch Friends, not even in the apocalypse."

You closed the door, leaving her at peace and again, out of her her torture.

Time passed. Joel was about to start cooking beans and Ellie left to go take a much needed power nap in the guest bedroom. You offered Joel to rest and that you'd cook instead. Little did he know how much of an exclusive this was with you, bitch you didn't cook. But you felt pretty bad for the whole spider thing and thought, hey, what's a little cooking? What's a little meal prep?

Joel said his very weary 'thanks' and went to rest on the couch, while you went into the kitchen. He looked genuinely happy to see you take the responsibility. And you were genuinely happy in other places too at the idea of you cooking for him <3 and Ellie ofc. And yourself, who could forget your fat ass?

Time passed, maybe a little too long of a time to make beans, when you had finally finished. Though you were pretty sure all the garnishes left in the kitchen were expired and no, those are not flakes of oregano but flakes of mold, they actually came out pretty good. You prepped three beautiful plates, on the fine China (ZooPal's, Ellie got the duck plate, Joel the ladybug, and you the frog), and went to push the kitchen door to present your dish as if you were battling Bobby Flay on that one kitchen show with the other woman with white hair that looks like she'd be one of the emotions from Inside Out.

"Dinner's ready! -" you said cheerily, until you realized - it wasn't just Joel who would see your dish. Not Ellie. Not even Bobby Flay - it was the raiders. Again. They were all up in your living room, def crossing the maximum capacity. They just couldn't seem to get enough of you and you didn't want to come off as narcissistic but guessed your personality had to be addictive.

You all took a minute, assessing the situation. Actually, you ALL took that minute. You just stood there, plates filled with beans, and they stood there, guns filled with bullets, with Joel and Ellie on their knees with their wrists tied behind their backs.

The silence kept going.

You just stood there.

"Wait, so -," your bimbo ass said, very Trisha-esque, not even able to come to form a conclusion. You were just so confused. "Wait -"

And there it is again.

Someone tackled you. AGAIN.

Not only did your body go flying underneath the massive weight that just sumo slammed itself into you, but so did the beans. The beans? Yeah, they were airborne. The ZooPal plates? In flight.

The mass was actually a man who was attempting to zip tie your wrists now that he had you pinned down. However, he underestimated your irritability when you were hungry.

Mama's hungry.....and mama wants her beans.....and what mama wants...........mama GETS.........

You had just about had enough.

You threw him off with such strength that could only come with a girl's rage. A rage so deep, so visceral and seemingly uncontrollable, one that could set you back on all the self-help and patience exercises that you've practiced. No. That's it. She's gonna pop, and just like the shit from earlier - some things just cannot be held in forever.

You rose up, looking briefly over at the man who's back slammed against the window, where he then tumbled and tumbled to who knows what fate, but a fate just the same as that bloater earlier.

The raiders were too aghast at your abilities.

"I just, I can't," you started, panicky. "I can't hold it in anymore."

You almost started crying from the mania. You looked very unstable, cause you were.

You took a deep breath, but knew one thing - you've been holding this anger, this wrath in for so long, now it's time for her to be released.

One of the raiders caught on and began to back up. His buddies followed, scared, almost like watching a Jack in the box as a grown adult, but that childlike fear still imprinted in your innermost being.

"Hey listen, we'll just get out of -"

" - do you KNOW HOW FUCKING HARD IT IS TO FIND ANY FOOD OUT HERE WITH NO FUCKING MOLD ON IT?! YOU KNOW HOW HARD IT IS TO COOK ROOM TEMPERATURE FUCKING BEANS ON A DINGY LAPTOP RUNNING ON SIMS 3?! IT TAKES A LONG FUCKING TIME!!!! DO YOU KNOW HOW HUNGRY I'VE BEEN?!?!?! I'M THREE DAYS LATE ON MY FUCKING PERIOD AND I'VE BEEN FEIGNING FOR SOME FUCKING BEANS!!!! BEANS, BITCH!!!! DO YOU KNOW HOW DESPERATE I'VE GOTTA BE FOR FOOD TO WANT BEANS?!?! I'M CRAVING ROOM TEMPERATURE BEANS LIKE A SOLDIER IN THE CIVIL FUCKING WAR!!!!! - (you lost them) - DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHAT THE FUCK THAT IS?!??! THAT'S LIKE, ONE OF THE BIG DEAL WARS!?!??! WHATEVER AND NOW MY BEANS ARE ON THE GROUND LIKE DO I LOOK LIKE TRAVIS KELCE?! DO I LOOK LIKE A BITCH TO BE TACKLED ONTO THE FUCKING GROUND??!?!! DO I HAVE A SIGN ON ME THAT SAYS I'M A QUARTER BACK?!?! NO BITCH I WANT A QUARTER POUNDER!!!! AND NOW LOOK!!! 'UH, GUYS, WE HAVE COMPANY!!!!!'"

After your spew that gave you the same catharsis akin to rapping a Nicki Minaj verse word for word, they put their hands up in surrender and backed on out, suddenly becoming overly-friendly while you followed them out to the porch. You had the same aura as a a 'get off my property or I'll shoot' type.

"Sorry for disturbing you, ma'am."

"Have a nice day, Ms., sorry about that."

"Lovely house and beans."

"Have a good day."

"Bye bye now."

"THANK YOU, YES!! FUCKING LEAVE!!!! RED-COAT, QUARTERING ASS FUGLY ASS BITCHES!! OR Y'ALL DON'T KNOW WHAT THAT IS EITHER?!?! GO FIND A BOOK ON WARS THAT DON'T INVOLVE TOILET PAPER AND LEARN ABOUT THE IMPORTANCE OF BEANS YOU FUCKING SKID MARKS!!!!"

"Great plates."

"I like what you did with your hair, ma'am. Very unique."

"AND STAY OUT!!!!!! THIS IS MY OWN PRIVATE DOMICILE AND I WILL NOT BE HARASSED!!!!!!"

You turned back around into the house, overhearing one of their conversations as they got farther and farther (not only are you partially deaf, but you have super-hearing).

"I think that's the same girl from earlier, with the weird giggles from earlier?"

"Really?"

"Yeah. The Spongebob shorts, remember?"

"Oh, fuck. You're right."

You couldn't help but not smile hard. You like, lowkey did that? No violence or anything. MLK was lowkey right.

But that smile soon fell once you got back into the house, remembering what literally just happened. Seeing your hard work splattered all over the floor was like seeing your own world end. By then, Joel was already untied and had just finished Ellie's.

"That was INSANE!" Ellie said, excitedly. "Did you see their faces?! That was so sick!"

"Thanks, Ellie. I'm lowkey gonna cry now, so those words of positive affirmation do help."

"Wait, don't," Joel said, oddly caring.

"Of course I'm gonna cry! I'M FUCKING HUNGRY oh my god what's that?"

Joel had reached into his bag, pulling out three very familiar containers.

"I'd, uh, hope we could be eatin' this, too," he said sheepishly, as he revealed they were perfect condition, ready-to-eat, beautifully displayed fat rolls of sushi.

You at the very moment became a belieber in spontaneous combustion, because you'd never been so hot so quick, it was just too hot. Joel was too hot. Sushi was too hot too, and he got you sushi?! That's like double the hot! This is Hot Ones DA BOMB!!

"Oh my god, Joel - you didn't," you held your hands to your face, in such happiness and surprise. It looked as if Joel had just proposed to you and the ring was a singular spicy tuna roll.

Joel smiled softly, a rarity around these parts. You found that glimpse of another side of him so interesting, intriguing - attractive. You always knew he was hot, and knew you wouldn't say no to your bestowed Rick, but DAMN like Kendrick's 2017 hit-album he was fine as FUCK right now.

"Contain it girl, contain it," the voices told yourself.

"How'd you get this?!" you asked, taking it as he reached them out for you. You inspected them, you weren't sure if it was because you were hallucinating from the hunger, but they looked exactly like Studio Ghibli food, your fat ass was about to feast. You felt the salivation like those rabies victims outside.

"I'm a smuggler. It's my job," he said, which you swore was flirting-ly but unfortunately didn't have any of your girls around to tell this too and get their opinion :( so you decided to live with your delusion that it was!

You wanted to kiss him so bad for that, you could've cried. And you did.

You three sat around the campfire, eating, talking, laughing, all good vibes. Ellie had finally tried sushi for the first time and loved it, as you went on to explain the days of the Barbenheimer summer. (You thought she needed to dip her toes into Oppenheimer lore somehow already.)

"Hey, sorry you guys had to see me like that," you said, finishing your roll. "I just get like, really annoyed when people stop me from eating food when I'm hungry. Like, that's me time, you know? It's personal."

"What are you talking about?! That was so good! They were shitting their pants!" asked Ellie.

"Lol me," you spat. You hoped they didn't catch that.

"You - you really scared them off there," mustered Joel, impressed.

"Thanks," you said, taking whatever compliment that man could give to heart.

"If only we had you during our shootout, back at the Target," Joel said. "I thought you were a runner, first time I saw you."

"Why's that?"

"You had all that," he motioned to his face, "red stuff, all on your mouth and chin. Thought it was blood."

"Oh, that was Chef Boyardee! You know him?"

Did he know him.

Did he know him?

Girl he was a single father once of course he knew him.

And what else did he know?

He knew he was in love with you, in love with Y/N...

"I, uh, love -"

"- Joel loves Chef Boyardee. He got all excited when he found a can, once," Ellie said, interrupting him.

"Because that's what the Chef intended with his creation," you said, not really one hundred percent sure what that meant. And neither did Joel or Ellie. Anyway,

Time passed, you guys cleaned up and Ellie had gone to sleep.

You and Joel were sat on the swinging bench on the porch outside, passing your blueberry fume back and forth like a blunt (it actually wasn't dead, contrary to popular belief). He wasn't really a fan, but didn't want to tell you no.

You'd been out for some time, enjoying the warm (lowkey hot) breeze and of course, Joel's company. He was a man of few words, unfortunately, but it did make him hotter. Like, why so mysterious?

"So how'd you really get that sushi?" you asked, after some unimportant small talk.

"When we were at the supermarket," he said. "Wanted to surprise you."

"That's so hot," you said immediately.

"What?"

"It's so hot right now, that's what I meant," you spat and took your fume from him, taking in an unnecessarily giant hit.

"Well, wanna go back inside?"

"Nah."

"Okay?"

Another silence.

"You know, I wanted to uh, thank you, for being nice with Ellie and all," he said, "it's uh, it's nice."

"No probs. She's funny. Reminds me of a younger TikTok-obsessed cousin, you know? The kind you're excited to see on Christmas?"

"Yeah, yeah. I understand," he said. He didn't.

The silence continued. And you had to admit, it was getting awkward. Something needed to happen. And your pervert mind knew what would be perfect right now -

" - My daughter loved Chef Boyardee," Joel then said, really out of nowhere.

You turned to him. For a moment, you genuinely forgot he had a daughter. You didn't really like comforting people when you were horned up, but there was no escaping this. Who knows if he's ever said this before? Maybe you're the one - the special one - that gets to hear this exclusive tidbit. So you complied. Sometimes people needed a shoulder to lean on, so you decided right there and then, (and apparently Joel too), that you'd be that shoulder...

"That's crazy," you said. So little words, yet so much meaning.

"It is," he said, smoking the fume.

"My ex-sugar daddy, the guy that I told you about, do you remember?" you asked, he nodded his head. He did remember. "Well, yeah, he actually had a health scare once. Chef Boyardee, specifically the ravioli, was all he ate when he was separated from his wife. She used to cook all these real pasta dishes, so when he was living on his own he was pretty much incapable of cooking anything besides a bowl of cereal. He just ate Chef Boyardee ravioli all day and his cholesterol went up. It was crazy."

"Huh."

"Yeah. And it was kinda weird, you know, because he was Italian. I didn't think Italians accepted the Chef as one of their own."

"I guess he did."

"Yeah. I miss him."

Joel turned to you.

You realized your mistake. You DON'T bring up an ex on the first date hello?!?! HELLO (@ALL THE BOYS IN THE WORLD HELLO?!?!?!)

"I mean, I miss the old world, you know. Like, how you miss your daughter," you explained. "Association and all."

"I'm sorry if I'm a little, you know," he said, "If I don't come off very - personable. You've, uh, been a great help to us both. To me."

"Of course! It's okay. It's kinda hard to keep manners going when more than half of the population are demented cannibals and the other wanna rob you all the time."

You both smiled softly. You provided him the warmth he needed, the warmth that could always greet him at the end of the day, reminding him that there's always room for warmth. You are his sun, his warmth. You're his heating pad, the warmth of a heating pad.

"I don't, I don't say this much. Not at all, actually, not until you brought up the 'association' thing, but - you remind me of the old world," he said.

Your ass couldn't help but smile.

"Oh my god Joel that's like so sweet!" you said, before jumping on him to give him a big hug! He hugged tightly back, he then threw you back on the bench and you felt his member pressed against your leg. He then began kissing you, his tongue licking your lips for entrance. You let him in. Your tongues fought for dominance but you let him win. He eventually started going down on you, taking your "I <3 ORLANDO" Spongebob-themed PJ shorts off, and started kissing your labia.

"This...this is a labia," he said, his southern drawl coming out in full force.

"Oh my god this is just like my fic!"

"What?"

"Nothing!"

You lifted your legs as he began to eat you out, his wet breath on your cooter. He held your foot up and raised himself, ready to press his member into your entrance. Your eyes were closed, ready to take the man from Austin, Texas in. This is it. No Flaka girls, no fungus-infested toilets, no Chef Boyardee-obsessed raiders, nothing - just you and Joel.

Hope you enjoyed!

xoxo,

~Sam St. Clair

P.S. - I'm not actually dead! I've been in hospital. So, almost. I've now learned that sanding your tires down to make them look cleaner and smoother and prettier is actually quite dangerous.

xoxo, again,

~Sam St. Clair

[instarsandcrime]

Tuned Out

Oh gosh it's been uh. Almost a month since I've written something??? Well, I hope you enjoy this one! I loved the idea of a sick L/uc/ifer spiraling, and being broken out of it by A/la/stor's radio show because I'm weak to the idea-- though it can be interpreted as both platonic and Ra//di//o//A//pple.

And here's a quick heads-up: Though this is still the usual fluffy fic, the spiral paragraph itself is a bit rough. So I'm going to put a trigger warning below and in the summary when I add this fic to the list. If intrusive thoughts and vague thoughts of self-harm are too much, please skip the italicized second paragraph. You can still read the fic without needing to include this part, so don't feel ANY pressure to do so if you aren't/will never be ready. Please, pleeeassseee take care of yourselves!

Otherwise, enjoy!

TW: Intrusive thoughts, vague thoughts of self-harm

---

Burning. His skin felt like it was burning him alive. That was the only sensation Lucifer could feel. His tired eyes stared up at the canopy of his bed, face glowing softly with fever. Its flush spread gold across the embedded pearls above, making them sparkle like stars. He sighed, crackling sparks floating from his lips as thoughts poked and prodded at his overheated mind.

Fuck. He really was pathetic, wasn’t he? Can’t move, can’t get up, can’t get a glass of water, eat dinner, call Charlie– call. Charlie? Oh, poor Charlie. She must be so disappointed in him. He chuckled weakly, What would she even say to him that she hasn’t already thought? He could imagine it. He really could. ‘Seriously, Lucifer?! I literally meant nothing to you for years and now suddenly you waltz into my life? And instead of actually spending time with me, you’re calling from a room that could’ve gone to someone who truly needed it, ordering me to wait on you hand and foot like I’m your butler? Like our entire relationship meant nothing? You threw me away, and now you’re going to do it again?! You know what? You deserve this! You deserve to rot in your bed! Get as starving and sick as you want! At least now the inside will match the outside! You’re terrible! I hate you! No. No, you know what? I wish you got your second shot at Heaven. I wish you had at least a week of laughter, fun, and fucking fireworks so they could tear off your wings andyoucanFallalloveragai–’

A burst of static pierced the air, shattering the constricting spiral just before it could break him again– and replaced it with a new form of dread.

“Why hello there all you wayward sinners! Welcome once again to tonight’s show with your host: The Radio Demon!”

“Uuugh!” Lucifer groaned dramatically, snatching one of his many pillows to press over his head. 

Right. The stupid fucking radio. From under the shadows, the sickly demon couldn't help but glare daggers at the piece of junk resting on his nightstand. Alastor had requested those old, outdated mortal inventions for every hotel room– specifically from the 1920’s era because apparently he preferred style and substance. Whatever that meant. 

Regardless. He insisted that it was needed for announcements, communication, and entertainment. In other words– somewhere, somehow, Alastor was currently studying him and him alone with invisible eyes. Surgically scanning him at the seams for the slightest rip. The slightest tear. As if his prey wasn't the most powerful being here. Dramatic bastard.

“And how are you doing this fine evening, Your Majesty?” The radio sung.

“Go away.” The lump of fluff grumbled.

"Of course not! It is my duty as your hotelier to take note of every little detail of my building, no matter how tiny and insignificant. And I am ever-so-glad I have! It is quite the rare sight to watch our King of Hell lose face to a simple case of the sniffles. Truly a headline for the ages!"

An angry red blush painted over the king’s golden cheeks, immediately pushing himself upright. Towering wings puffed, pillows and blankets tossed about the bed as he went. "Now see here! Sinners get sick. Overlords get sick. Hell, Charlie and Lilith can get sick! Me? I’m just rehhh…Snff! Ugh, resti'g…"

"Resting. Of course. I suppose I will believe you for convenience’s sake--"

"Hhheh…! Het'shiew!"

"--oh! Bless you."

"Het'shhhiew!"

"Bless y--"

"Hep'shhhh! 'Etshhh! 'Tshhh! 'Tshhh-'tshh-'tch! ...HhhhehhHH...! HEH'TSSHHHIEW!"

"My goodness, bless! You sound absolutely miserable. Shall I fetch you a glass of water? Or another blanket, perhaps?"

"Nhhh– no." Lucifer protested between hitching breaths, conjuring a handkerchief with the flick of the wrist, "N-no thahhh...hhhah! Hhhh...”

He finally lowered the cloth when the tickle finally fizzled out, heaving a sigh of relief. “Ndo thadk you. Snff!" He took a deep breath before letting loose a mucky blow into the fabric, "It's fine. I'm fine."

A pause. "Ah."

"What? What is it now?"

"Oh nothing, nothing! I’ll let you get back to your rest. But before I go, could I mention one more thing?”

“Absolutely not.”

“It’s just. Well, I had my first impressions, but I assumed that the King of Hell wouldn't be so cowardly."

"Cowardly?!" Lucifer repeated incredulously, spitting a plume of smoke.

"I see your hearing is as sharp as your wit."

"I'll show you cowardly you…y-you…hhh-!" The demon’s nose twitched desperately, and he cursed between hitching gasps as it tried again and again to just get. The damned itch. Out.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't quite catch that."

"You…you self-important…hehhh…p-pompous…!" 

"How flattering of you to notice my worth! And would you believe it? You're absolutely right! I am the fundraiser for this humble project, after all. The guide for these poor, misguided souls. Ones such as yourself."

"Oh, please! We both know you’re...you're no behhh...better than…hhhH–!" Lucifer's handkerchief raised to his face.

"Trying to use your infamous silver tongue through a sneeze? My word! Charlie had told me you were stubborn. But this?"

"Eshhh! Et'SCHHH! HEH'ETSCHH'HHHIEW!" He quickly twisted his head away to let loose a breath of flame, barely singeing the well-abused cloth.

"Poor, poor Lucifer Morningstar.” Alastor teased, his voice as soft and careful as a snake in the grass. The smattering of footsteps echoed across the floorboards, circling the bed. “Always choosing your own heavenly guilt over the needs of everyone else."

"HEH'ESCHH'HHHIU! Hehh! Hhh…hghh…"

"Which is a shame, considering the ill resident who requires attention. Trapped in their own feverish mind. Alone while their partner is away. Unable to move or think or even ask for help properly. But I’m sure you wouldn’t know how it feels for them, considering how indestructible you are."

"...There is?" Lucifer finally croaked, cringing to himself at another gurgling nose blow.

"Of course! While you were hiding in your room with your wings tucked between your legs, I'm afraid you've missed someone very important. Someone close to you."

Lucifer froze. He didn't mean.

"Mmm. Let's see." As the radio host thought stubby knobs spun on their own, playing flickers of songs diluted by time. "Rosy cheeks. Blonde hair. Red eyes that sparkle so damn brightly one could go blind."

Oh no.

"Puffy bow tie. Black fingernails."

Did. Did he get his little girl sick? Please, please don't let that be the case.

"The most spell-binding singing voice."

He thought back to breakfast. How Charlie had eaten less than normal. How she sniffled once or twice at the table. Wait, did her face look pale? Maybe the light didn’t catch it?

A knot formed in the pit of his stomach.

"Wh-where is she-- they, um! That. Resident right now?"

"Oh, performing the usual suffering patient routine. Lying in bed. Being miserable. Quite adament about sleeping the bug off. Reminds me of the ol’ picture books that star wealthy socialites and their sickly Victorian children. The ones who die due to their parents' neglect and mistreatment."

"I could help her." The fallen angel mumbled anxiously as he pushed himself upright. "I could help her right– …now..." 

The second he dared to stand he nearly fainted, stumbling dizzily to grab the bedpost for support. From beneath a small string of black tentacles sprouted from the ground, nudging him back into place and under the covers as The Radio Demon tutted disapprovingly. 

"I wouldn’t do that if I were you. If you can't partake in the complex act of resting, then what good are you to our dear, sweet Charlie?"

"Shut. Up." Lucifer hissed, "I am a grown adult--"

"--debatable--"

"--and I choose what to do with my free time! And it's my jo-- koff koff! j-job to help my daughter when she needs it!" A shaky finger waved at all six radios. Or were there seven?

"To be quite honest Sire, I would prefer to do my tasks without your meddling. Actually, I would prefer not to perceive your existence at all, thank you very much. Unless..."

"Unless?"

"Unless you'd rather call her yourself. But I know you won't." A mocking tone laced with static, “You c̴̨̮͊o̶̗̤̿ẇ̷̙á̴̼̖ȑ̶͉̕d̶̙͚͗̕.”

“I– wh–” Lucifer laughed in sheer disbelief, snatching up his phone. “Y-you’re– you’re joking, right? I’m not some– some godforsaken hermit!"

"Then by all means, prove it."

"I am!"

“I’m waiting."

"Oh, I’ll do it! I’ll do such a good call. It’ll be the– snff! goodest caller you’ve ever seen.” The King of Hell pouted like a child as he moved his claws.

“Ugh. Lord knows how he’ll act if he gets worse.” The radio mumbled quietly.

“Whassat?”

“My apologies, Your Majesty! I forgot that your company as of late are less of the civilized and more the rubber duck variety.”

"Of all the– if you weren't stuck to Charlie like a parasite I would take the sharpest end of my tail and shove it up your--"

Click!

"Dad?" A voice croaked.

"Charlie!" Lucifer's venom turned saccharine sweet, flipping on a dime. "Hey! Hi! H-how are ya, sweetie?"

"Mmrgh...what time is it?"

"It's. Um. Evening…time? Look, that doesn't matter right now. Are you feeling alright, kiddo?"

"Am I feeling alright?" His patient echoed sleepily.

"Yeah! I uh. IIIII just wanted to check in. See if you were okay." 

"Oh. Um, I'm okay." A bit of rustling and a pause. "Are you okay?"

"Snff! Me?"

"Yes, you! You looked so tired at breakfast this morning, a-and you didn’t eat anything which never happens! And you were kinda glowing? It kinda seemed bad but I didn’t want to ask because maybe it was a personal thing and– wait, your voice is…are you crying?!" Rustling turned into the shuffle of pacing slippers.

"What? No! Nonononono! I just--" Lucifer froze, feeling another itch start to build, handkerchief nowhere to be found under the sea of fabric. "Jhhh-just excuse mbe for– snff! For a seggond. Keebp t-talki’g…!"

He quickly pressed his hand against the speaker, stifling into his shoulder until the scratchy wool felt damp. "Hh'ntt! Hh’ngk! Hhh’TCH! ‘TCH! Hhhhh...HT'CHNXT'hiew! Guhh..."

"Sure. A-anyway, you called me pretty early in the morning and after all that and this. Soooo…is there anything I can do to help?"

Desperate claws scrambled to craft a new handkerchief and wipe his streaming face. "N-no! No, no-- snff! absolutely not! Worry about yourself Char-Char, I'm fi--....f-fihh...!"

Hang up, pinch your nose shut, do anything but--

"HET'SHHH'HIEW!" Lucifer doubled over.

–sneeze.

"Oh geez, that sounded terrible!” Charlie gasped, “Is that why you've been in your room all day? Are you sick?"

A sudden, very obvious realization hit him. Silently the fallen king sunk into his mattress, wishing he could be swallowed by his comforter. His cheeks burned. The familiar description. The taunting. 

“Can I. Call you back, Stardust?” 

“What? Whoa, whoa, wait, we’re not finished here–” With a final monotone beep, the call ended.

"You.” Lucifer clenched his fangs.

“Yes?” Alastor hummed non-chalantly. “YOU.”

“Gracious! No need to shout. Even The Devil Himself should know that a sickly patient musn’t raise his voice, lest it get worse than it already is!”

“Watch your back, bellhop. Next time I see you, no ring of Hell will compare to what I-- koff! I’ll–" The threat died with a wheeze, breaking into another ill-timed fit.

"And that's all for tonight, folks!" The radio suddenly hopped back to life, "Tomorrow's show may be a little dicey schedule wise, as our guest star is feeling quite unwell. Will he finally exit his literal and proverbial cave of sorrows for once in his miserable life? Or, much like his saintly past, will pride once again be his downfall--"

"Dad! Are you– eep!"

Charlie's entrance was suddenly interrupted when a black fist rained down on the damned noise box, breaking in a fit of bouncing springs and wooden splinters. The room stilled until a meek, nervous chuckle finally broke the spell.

"Charlie, dear?"

"Y…yeah?"

"Um. Could. Could I trouble you for a glass of water?"

[strawhatyuuji]

sense of self | satoru gojo

author's note: hi! first time writing something jujutsu kaisen, also posting here in a looong time. It's not much just my take on gojo. I hope you like it! please let me know any thoughts or ideas you may have.

GOJO SATORU has always been told who he is, since the moment he took his very first breath any hope of true freedom had been lost. He was stripped away from the commercialized expectations of childhood and thrown helplessly into the cog that is jujutsu society. The star of the Gojo clan, the “strongest”, a man to be feared yet he was a child. 

Gojo Satoru is a powerful man, not to be taken lightly yet why did he hold such a heavy weight on his chest? Satoru sat in his cold, dark, expansive room, silence encompassing the ringing of his thoughts as they scraped at his brain. It was a simple question, one that had meant no harm by the teen who asked yet it sent him into a spiral. “What are your hobbies?”, a simple and generic question when getting to know someone yet he had never been asked this before. No one cared what Satoru Gojo did for fun, hell, Gojo himself didn’t know. He had simply made a joke about how he is the strongest and hobbies are for the weak. But it hurt, there was truth to his response. If he was weaker, he'd have more freedom for things like hobbies. The spiral didn’t stop at hobbies, it began to branch out and constrain him tighter. 

Gojo realized he didn’t know who he was outside of the things people had made him out to be. He didn’t have an identity that wasn’t created by others' perspectives of himself. Was he kind like Suguru once was? Was he smart and poise like Nanami? Was he sweet and brave like Yuji? He had been told he was many things but never did he find the words himself. Satoru knew people hated him, they hated his ego and confidence, believing him arrogant. So, was that who he was arrogant and entitled? Did he have a say on what he truly was to his core? Did he even know? 

Satoru’s head ached from the overwhelming tensions that brewed inside him. This wasn’t fair he thought, he is twenty eight years old and has no idea what his favorite hobby is. He is a renowned sorcerer, head of the Gojo clan yet he couldn’t tell anyone what his favorite song was. He didn’t know who he was. 

At his very core, the deep limitless pit within him he hoped at least he was kind. He hoped someone cared to venture alongside him into his void and find the true Satoru Gojo.

[stolenorchids]

FLEETING RELIEF

Osamu Dazai x reader

WARNINGS: fem! reader, hurt/comfort, SH, self harm, mentions of ciggerattes, mentions of blood, insecurities, body dysmorphia (kinda), Dazai has been going through it, reader is going through it - I think I got everything, but please let me know if I missed anything!

LOWERCASE IS INTENTIONAL

it was the small things that gnawed at her, picking her apart like she was made of fragile paper - delicate, but easily torn. it was the small things that made her endlessly stare at herself in the small, rounded mirror standing atop her white makeup desk in her room. it was the small things that had her pulling at the edges of her shirt, eyeing how it clung to her body in ways that made her stomach turn. it was the small things that made her fingers drift to her skin, tugging at it, criticizing every imperfection. there were days where she barely recognized herself, like her reflection was slowly being erased, leaving behind a distorted, incomplete version.

it was the, not so, small things that had her delicate, sylphlike fingers gracefully swirl around her right arm, unmeaningly making the crimson-red blood form into beads, soft tears making a few of them fall onto the wooded floor beneath her thighs.

today, she’d chosen the long sleeves again. The weather outside was bright and warm, with sunlight pouring in through the city, but she couldn’t bear to let her skin breathe. the fabric was stifling, but it was safer - like wrapping herself in armor, concealing the things she didn’t want anyone, least of all Osamu, to see.

concealing the now blush-red wounds on her arm.

he hadn’t noticed. she tried to tell herself it was a blessing, that his obliviousness shielded her from having to explain the churning storm inside her, but the truth was, it hurt.

she needed him to notice. to understand.

“you look beautiful, you know?” he’d said that morning, his voice casual, light, like it was just another part of his routine. he hadn’t even looked up from the book he was holding. the words, simple and sweet, should have brought her comfort, but instead, they echoed in the hollow space of her chest, twisting like a knife.

beautiful… the word sounded foreign, like it wasn’t meant for her. how could it have? he hadn't even actually taken a look at her, so there was no way for him to tell if she was beautiful or not that morning. but regardless of whether he had looked at her or not, she wasn't sure she would've believed him.

she couldn’t bring herself to meet his eyes, her lips forming a hollow smile as she muttered a quiet "thanks." it felt like a lie, and she hated lying to him.

weeks passed, and she found herself retreating further into her own head. the whispers of doubt grew louder, their grip tighter. the weight of her insecurities was suffocating, but the worst part was the helplessness - the feeling that she had no control over the way she felt, the way her mind relentlessly picked her apart. maybe she would've felt better if she had had the opportunity to harm herself, to regain some form of control in her life. to see the crimson-red lines form next to the now white ones.

that’s when she had bought her first pack of ciggerattes.

she wasn’t proud of it, but there was a strange kind of comfort in the sharp sting that blossomed across her skin as she felt the nub of the ciggerattes hit her right arm, forming slight buldges with some form of infection in them, later forming thin, white circles to join her other white lines. it was something she could control - unlike the spiral of thoughts that consumed her. for a few moments, as the pain rushed through her, everything else faded away. the self-hatred, the doubt, the fear of being not enough - they all disappeared, replaced by something she could manage.

it never lasted long though. the guilt always came back, stronger. heavier.

Osamu was busy with work at the Agency, his usual carefree persona masking his own complexities. he was a puzzle in himself, a man who danced with death but laughed in its face. and yet, even in his recklessness, there was a sharpness, a depth, that always managed to cut through the surface when she least expected it.

it wasn’t until one evening, as they sat together in the dim light of their apartment, that he finally noticed. she had been pulling at her sleeve absentmindedly, trying to lift it off of the fresh marks and bumps on her wrist. his gaze, usually playful, sharpened in an instant.

he saw it - the barest glimpse of scarred skin, a flash of red and yellow against pale flesh.

“wait,” he murmured, his voice no longer holding that light, teasing edge. there was something different in his tone now - something serious, fragile. his hand reached out, gently brushing the fabric of her sleeve aside, revealing what she had been trying so desperately to hide.

“what happened?” he asked softly, his thumb tracing over the marks with a tenderness that made her chest ache. there was no anger in his voice, no disappointment - only concern. his fingers were featherlight, but the weight of his touch felt overwhelming, grounding her in a way that made it harder to breathe.

she pulled her arm away quickly, hugging it to her thigh, hugging her left arm around herself as if trying to shield herself from him. her heart raced, her throat tightening with the shame she had been trying so hard to bury.

“i’m sorry,” she whispered, barely audible, her voice trembling. she wanted to lie to him - tell him that she had accidently burnt herself while making pasta earlier, but she couldn't. she couldn’t look at him either - not now. if she did, she knew she’d break. “i just… i don’t know how to stop it. It’s the only thing that makes it go away.” she said shamefully, trying not to cry.

Dazai didn’t respond right away. the silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken words. she could feel his eyes on her, watching her carefully, but she couldn’t bring herself to meet his gaze. not when she felt so exposed. so raw.

“…you don’t have to apologize,” he said quietly after what felt like an eternity. his voice was soft, almost hesitant, like he was choosing his words carefully. “i get it.”

those three words cut through her defenses like nothing else could. she looked up at him, eyes wide, confused. “you… get it?”

he smiled, but there was no humor in it - just sadness, and something else she couldn’t quite place. “i’ve been there, too, you know. when you feel like everything’s out of control, when it feels like you’re drowning and no one can see it… you do things to make it stop. to take the power back, even if it’s just for a moment. even if it's not right.”

she stared at him, her heart breaking at the vulnerability in his eyes. Osamu Dazai, the man who always laughed in the face of danger, who acted like nothing in the world could touch him, was sitting there, quietly confessing that he understood her pain in a way she hadn’t expected.

“i’m not saying i have the answers,” he continued, his voice barely above a whisper now, “but i’m here. and i’m not going anywhere.”

for the first time in what felt like forever, she let the tears fall. Dazai didn’t flinch, didn’t pull away. instead, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into his chest as her quiet sobs wracked her body. his embrace was warm, steady, and for the first time in a long while, she felt like she wasn’t alone in the chaos.