#i love them so much and there's creativity around them and POTENTIAL

[slit-skirts]

good day aster mrs daltrey what are your top 3 poger moments 🙏 #enabler

mrs daltrey…… that’s so sweet of you T_T

it’s impossible to list my top 3 favourite poger moments, but i can talk about 3 that i really enjoy! this is super crazy long so it’s all under the cut.

FIRST, i’m actually really interested in their dynamic throughout the 60s. i think it has a lot of potential to be explored in fanworks and i definitely wish there was more information about them during this time period. when they first met each other, roger bullied pete but then they ended up in the same band only because of john 😭

pete was critical of roger’s musical abilities and was probably a bit intimidated by him, but still sought out his protection UGHHH….. and roger thought pete was some kinda pompous art school loser, but would still drag his ass outta bed every morning and drive him to rehearsals and gigs. #MOTHER

what’s even more interesting is that they actually hung out in the 60s and tried to be friends! eventually their weird relationship culminated in pete having his sexual awakening during woodstock and then both them going into heat every time they set foot on stage in the 70s LMAO

SECOND, i like how pete has also been the source of inspiration for roger’s creative endeavours. it’s usually only thought of as being the other way around with roger being pete’s muse.

my favourite roger solo album, as long as i have you, exists solely because pete believed in roger 🥲

i’m planning to post this separately, but you (and anyone else reading this) get exclusive access because I LOVE YOU! 🥰

this interview was from 2018 and it’s gotta be mandatory reading for any poger scholar 😤 i couldn’t even decide what passage to highlight individually because it’s all tewwww fucking good

PETE BUILT A HOME STUDIO FOR ROGER….. LET’S ALL DIEEEEEEEEEEE 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

pete speaks so unbelievably highly and fondly of roger in this. i never thought anything could be worse than yaoi fentanyl but here we are

AND THIRD, i like their stage banter! there’s nothing better than two cranky old geezers who love each other so much to the point where they can exchange rapid fire quips about each other without breaking a sweat :’)

in the early days roger wasn’t quick witted enough to keep up with pete, but it was a skill he eventually developed and mastered as he got older 😖 i love it when they get fake angry at each other, it’s soooo endearing wahhh

maybe i’m too pogerbrained, but this is one of the things i’m looking forward to the most on this tour. i just know that it’s gonna be hysterical during the 2 toronto shows considering their history with doing farewell tours in this city 😋 i’ll try to record all of it!!!!

[gothicada]

ᴡʜᴀᴛ'ꜱ ᴄᴏᴍɪɴɢ ꜰᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ ᴘᴀᴄ

first pac for this page!

content will include romance, career, finances and your future of 2025!

paid tarot readings here

THE PILES:

[PILE ONE, PILE TWO AND PILE THREE [LEFT TO RIGHT].

PILE ONE

❦ FUTURE OVERALL? ⬎

CARDS ⟶ {6 OF COINS, THE LOVERS VI, THE SUN XIX, ACE OF WANDS, STILLNESS XII and THE STAR XVII}.

♇ this pile will likely have a really good future, a lot of working, a lot of potential and attention being given, they would be a feeling of balance and gratitude, feeling happy, and even getting into relationships, or feeling more confident, better about yourself, there could be something you achieve, that you won't expect to achieve, and you could feel like your voice and needs are being heard.

♇ you could be gaining attention, intuitively i am hearing people from this pile could be manifesting new beginnings, new opportunities, and you will see them coming your way quickly, specifically since the ace of wands is in this pile. a lot could be going on for these people, but mainly good things, like partying and being around loved ones. people who chose this pile might've felt insecure about not feeling needed but those negative thoughts are likely going to go away. there's 2 sixes in the reading, and when that happens it means something favourable will be coming your way, new people in your life that have pure intentions, and having the ability to relax.

♇ im happy for this pile, because there's pure happiness here, seeing the world differently, instead of seeing the world as half empty, people who have picked this pile will start to see the world as half empty. starting new chapters with less stress and actually believing in yourself, starting over and not looking back, this spread also speaks of being more sexually expressive, trying out new things you havent thought about doing before.

♇ as this is a pile that likely going to start something new, you guys will be starting something new that you wouldnt expect. people who picked this pile will start to see something differently, and even be more happy about life, good things will be coming their way, there could be something you might sacrifice, like a habit, a person or something, but doing this would be for the greater good.

♇ whatever you would be sacrificing, would make you feel like a huge weight would be lifted ff your shoulders, maybe people who picked this pile would be letting go of a friend that was draining, but it's likely something you were supposed to be doing moments ago, and you could be stepping into something that aids you to express your creative side, whether it be drawing, singing acting or anything make-up/fashion oriented, you will be happy.

shuffled songs ⟶ [lovin you by minnie riperton, bonbon by era istrefi and ouragan by mattyeux featuring videoclub].

❦ ROMANCE OVERALL? ⬎

CARDS ⟶ {Six of Cups, THE CHARIOT VII, Eight of Swords, King of Coins, Four of Swords and Nine of Cups}.

♇ overall, the romantic life will be sweet, could be getting into a relationship with someone who makes you feel warm and protected, a bond where the two of you would be very understanding with each other, a lot of yearning going on between both sides, but the six of cups and the chariot does imply that it could be someone you've spoken to before, or someone who might remind you of the past. [the chariot is ruled by cancer/moon].

♇ some people who have picked this pile could be in long-lasting situationships, connections you can easily get yourself out of, but you're stubborn to let go because of the past and memories you made with such person. people who have picked this pile might have a negative outlook in their romantic love life, could think they're not loveable but even though this can sound cliche, this could be happening because you're actually not putting yourself out there.

♇ because the people who picked this pile actually have so much potential to be in a good relationship, but if you are someone who has the potential to get into a relationship, whoever you will get with could be really scared of losing you, they could be the type to do anything to keep you close to them, though with the lack of wands here, they're likely lowkey about it, but they'll show it through little things, like urging you to stay, be with them all the time etc.

♇ if you are someone who could be going through complications because of a relationship, i do see the likelihood of everything calming down. even though the four of swords can speak of stress, it usually changes wherever it is beside, because it is between the king of coins and the nine of cups, i see a sense of relax, if you are someone who could be getting a significant other, this person would be very calming, will know what you like, what makes you tick etc.

♇ you will be feeling comfortable, and could even be indulging in sex, self-pleasure if you remain single. what im seeing for this pile, is that no matter what happens in the end you'll be okay, because you will be emotionally fulfilled with, or without a partner, and you will feel pretty and look beautiful! if you do get with someone, it's likely someone who is successful/very attractive.

shuffled songs ⟶ [bitch by allie x, washing machine heart by mitski and oxygene by fally ipupa].

❦ OCCUPATION OVERALL? ⬎

CARDS ⟶ {JUDGEMENT XX, ARES IV, JUSTICE XI, Ten of Cups, THE FATES X and DEATH XIII}.

♇ interesting spread, people who have picked this pile would be doing really well. a big transformation happening to these people, i do think whatever you are doing you would be an inspiration to those around you, they would be learning from you, adoring you, and if this is about school, you could be doing really great. you could be finding a calling, one you didnt expect, but it'll come to you.

♇ whatever occupation you are doing will lead you to much success, you could be someone who might have a guide, or you will be the guide as i have insinuated in the last paragraph, but whatever you will be doing will bring you happiness. you wouldnt expect this, especially with death being at the end, and this doesnt mean it's a bad thing, it'll just be totally different to what you are used to now, so it might take you some time to get used to.

♇ the occupation you get yourself into will make you feel belonged, because your thoughts/ideas would be things people would take seriously. you will be able to provide for yourself, but i do warn you to handle your finances with logic and practicality, even if you will likely get good finances, do be aware with how you manage your excitement with your money.

♇ if you are someone who is struggling, there's a big chance this occupation will get you back to your feet, if you are someone who is working at a job, you would likely get a raise, something unexpected but good will happen for you, and it's something that was always supposed to happen, there are some cards here that likely scares other people, but many of the end outcomes will be good, trust me. there's 2 tens in the reading and this usually means that there can be and ending but it'll open to a new good beginning, you'll see that everything happens is for the best. there's also 2 zeros here and it speaks of countless possibilities.

♇ and i know the death card here is really scary, but it strengthens my idea of a new beginning happening for these people, something that'll make you happy and understand that you should allow life to handle itself, it'll teach these people that you shouldnt force things to go one way because it'll disrupt the process. there's also a lot of 1 numerology here and this is another beacon of a new beginning, be happy for yourself pile 1! :)

shuffled songs ⟶ [show me how by men i trust, say yes to heaven by lana del rey and save your tears by the weeknd featuring ariana grande].

PILE TWO

❦ FUTURE OVERALL? ⬎

CARDS ⟶ {Four of Wands, Five of Swords, Five of Wands, THE FATES X, Ten of Coins and Queen of Wands}.

♇ well, you are in for a ride pile two, but in the end everything will work out for you guys. there could be complications happening with the family, someone spiteful, or you being upset about something, or a relative just bringing issues that causes chaos. you could be someone who might have a bad experience with someone, but for this pile i am feeling it could be a cousin/family? someone who might get away with many things because people are used to their behaviour.

♇ not a really good spread in the beginning, but everything will be just fine, as the end does have the ten of coins and the queen of wands. but this pile can be competing for something? having to prove yourself to someone, to a bunch of people, so you can get accepted for a status/role? if this is not a conflict you already know is happening, then it is likely someone randomly expressing their anger towards something that they have bottled up for a moment, could be you.

♇ you would feel like you are continuously going through ups and downs, you don't know what the week would have in store for you because it feels like it wants to whoop you, but i think the conflict that would be happening would be conflict you might have been stalling for a long time, so it was bound to happen. some of these people who have chosen this pile might find it hard letting go of people. there are 2 fives here, and when that happens it usually means conflict and having the themes of getting rid of instability and accepting change.

♇ though when all of that shit is done and dusted, you will feel relieved and released and happy to accept that positive change that wants to make way into your life. even if the ten of wands is not here i see the likelihood of prior challenges then you receiving a glow up because of it. whether it be glow up with your personality or looks, either way you will be feeling good about yourself :).

♇ like when this is all over, you would be feeling like you are the hottest shit in town, as i said in the previous paragraph, glow up of the century. and you could find yourself speaking to a woman in your family more, perhaps they're someone who had conflict with the family and they would be telling their side of the story? its very specific, but either way, there'll be a woman in your life that'll be very important.

shuffled songs ⟶ [under your spell by snow strippers, your face by wisp and sour switchblade by elita].

❦ ROMANCE OVERALL? ⬎

CARDS ⟶ {Queen of Wands, Princess of Coins, Seven of Cups in RX, King of Cups, King of Wands and Priestess of Coins}.

♇ well, romance would definitely be something for you guys, but you would appreciate the life lessons it'll give you. i do think the people who picked this pile would likely get into a connection with somebody, something very intense and passionate with someone, and it could be someone you go to work/school with.

♇ this connection could get very obsessive, both sides would be addicted to each other, and it'll be hard to hide it. someone could be obsessed with divination and could do readings on the said party or the energy of the bond. but this can also mean someone could be looking over signs and repeating symbols.

♇ there's an indicatory of immaturity, but it could be due to the queen of wands energy. this bond could be a missed opportunity, and it could imply you could have 2 options because of the king of cups and wands. even though both parties would be obsessed with each other, someone would be thinking from their emotions less than their logic/mind. and this can be both people because there's no swords here.

♇ whoever this person is, they would likely be more rational, but the king of cups being here does imply they would be acting based on their emotions. queen and king of wands being in the same spread, the two of you would be able to match each other's energies. and the other person wouldnt be able to handle it, so they might want to do things to prove you dont have power over them, in which you do.

♇ when it comes to people they care about, they're someone who is patient and protective, and you'll see that side coming out often when you're around them more. there's 2 kings in the reading, this is someone you likely work with, and the 2 kings do symbolise the fact that either way, they would be the more mature person within the connection, and there's many court cards here, which shows much people would be involved in this mix. he said she said.

shuffled songs ⟶ [turn me on by kevin lyttle, fresh laundry by allie x and boy's a liar pt. 2 by pinkpantheress featuring ice spice].

❦ OCCUPATION OVERALL? ⬎

CARDS ⟶ {Nine of Coins, Three of Coins, Seven of Cups , King of Wands, Queen of Wands and Ten of Cups}.

♇ whoever picked this part of the pile, lucky you! you will be comfortable with what you're going to be doing, and with the nine of coins and two other court cards king and queen of wands, you can be someone who is self-employed? and your business is likely going to be buzzing, speaking with more people and marketing yourself and people being easily pulled by you and your content.

♇ if you're not someone who has a job but goes to school, there's great indicator of everything going well for you, but remember to always stay in track. you would feel a creative side of yourself come out more, and you might even collaborate with other people, but i do think the majority who have picked this pile would likely have people reach out to them to join or to get advice.

♇ i'm hearing the status "hot shit" like whatever you're doing, you're going to be popping and your reputation will get higher. if you're someone who is looking for a job, this spread heavily implies you'll get a good career. you could be taking the lead for something, and this could put stress on your shoulders but the ten of cups at the end indicates that you'll be good anyways.

♇ this is a really great spread, because i do think you would be getting so much attention, and it could be over-whelming [with the seven of cups] but it'll be something you would get used to, almost as if you were made for it. you would feel more beautiful and appreciated in your occupation and with the three of coins, this shows that other people would be speaking about your creation/what you have done to others.

♇ for this spread, it's like a wish come true, being in an industry you always saw yourself to get into and accomplishing and making a name for yourself very quickly. howbeit, with the coins in the beginning of the spread, it could insinuate some people might've been in their occupation for a brief moment, but the progress was comfortable either way. you will feel like you've made yourself proud.

shuffled songs ⟶ [when you feel lonely by mavado, the box by roddy ricch and get lucky by daft punk, pharrell williams and nile rodgers].

PILE THREE

❦ FUTURE OVERALL? ⬎

CARDS ⟶ {Ten of Cups, TEMPERANCE XIV, Princess of Coins, Ace of Swords, Nine of Swords and THE HIEROPHANT V IN REVERSE}.

♇ the future for this reading is likely very good but there'll be some hiccups but i think it'll be fine overall. you will feel balanced and you will be attempting to balance your schedules, specifically things you're going to learn. you could enter a course or learn something new you could be very serious about and you might consider it to be something that could aid you to get your life on track.

♇ and i do see the possibility of people here wanting to right their wrongs, manifestation happening and learning how to be patient. but people who picked this pile could be people who are having to learn how to handle time and being patient. majority of the people who have picked this pile could be students and they could be anxious about something but this implies that the worries you have could be easily handled.

♇ you could be gaining more information about something and i know this has been implied in the previous two paragraphs but it is very strong in this spread that a form of knowledge will be coming whether it be about education or about secrets, but i do see the possibility of it being secrets, something that might throw you off and worry. the people who pick this pile will be going through a lot mental wise and that could be one of the things you would be wanting to balance.

♇ you could end up being a subject of gossip and there could be something that just ends for you, whether it be friendship, education or a hobby. but there is potential of the spread telling you that over-thinking could lead you to self destruction. believe in yourself! you could also be planning to do something that is authentic/different to the people around you and you could be worried about how other people might see it.

♇ i do see you doing something you might not supposed to be doing, but this spread could be warning you to not do something immoral. try and always remember who you are, people who picked this pile likely has the possibility of spiraling the most and even finding it hard to remember themselves. on the other hand, this can manifest into you becoming someone you truly are and having to learn not to care how other people would perceive you.

shuffled songs ⟶ [k. by cigarettes after sex, waking up in vegas by katy perry and mysterious girl by peter andre].

❦ ROMANCE OVERALL? ⬎

CARDS ⟶ {Ten of Swords, Two of Swords, Seven of Cups, Three of Swords, Princess of Coins and Four of Cups}.

♇ wow. so, good luck to whoever chose this pile. people who picked this pile are likely the people who are the heart-breaker or they would be the person who is heart-broken. treating people with kindness is a very big theme for this reading, and i do think whoever picked this pile are likely on their last straw when it comes to their romantic love life, you guys can be people who were heart-broken in the past so you have a hard time opening up to yourself to new people.

♇ people who choose this pile likely have many options, three cards imply that, two of swords, seven of cups and the four of cups. but these people likely dont want to take a leap because fear is a huge indicator here, or people who have picked this pile will be people who do not want to get into a proper relationship yet and could be looking for a fling, whereas the other party will be upset that they're truly not opening themselves to be loved.

♇ on the other hand, this spread can be advise to not allow your delusions to come up with the most delusional outcomes. there can be someone in your life that you could want, you might put them on a pedestal, but when it comes to romantic connections the person might lack and even be speaking to other people. if you are someone who is already in a romantic connection with somebody there's a high chance of conflict happening. rude words being thrown across and cold shoulders.

♇ and i think because of how hectic things will go for people, they might turn to things that isnt about romance, like becoming a better version of themselves, studious, or someone who is more perceptive about types of people who want to return to their lives. howbeit, this spread can also be for the people who are obsessive, wanting to seek out a specific result because you WANT and YEARN for something to happen, but im sorry it is just not the case for you guys.

♇ there's a lot of dissatisfied feelings here, yearning, wanting more. doing countless tarot readings on an event or on someone. you could also be giving so much love to other people but you're not receiving the same energy back, this spread implies that you are likely giving it to the wrong people. you need to value yourself and go to spaces where you are seen and valued.

shuffled songs ⟶ [with me by dvsn, christian woman by type o negative and amber by 311].

❦ OCCUPATION OVERALL? ⬎

CARDS ⟶ {King of wands, Princess of Swords THE BIRTH 0, JUDGEMENT XXI, THE WORLD XXII and THE HERMIT IX}.

♇ when it comes to career, people who picked this pile have such great potential of starting something where you're intellect and precision will be a big tool. people who picked this pile will be taking charge and feeling more bold about the opportunities they have, there's much mental stimulation going on and this could be because you would be given a new project or you would be someone who would be opening a side business, or could think about opening one.

♇ this could also mean that if you are someone who is signing up for a job, there is likely going to be other people competing for the spot you want. yet intuitively, i am getting to 75%-95% of people who picked this pile will be getting the spot they want, and they would be able to make a space for themselves to fall back financially that'll make them comfortable.

♇ people who chose pile three will finally be following their instincts, taking a leap and a chance to believe in themselves finally. and i believe that people who take a risk have good judgement because they would finally be accepting that their life is in their hands and time is their best friend. there's much communicative energy going on, it implies that there's much marketing yourself going on.

♇ these people who picked this pile will be going through a wake up call, it could involve them finally realising what they're supposed to do with their lives. [the hermit is also in this spread and it pinpoints that there would be people who would second guess themselves]. howbeit, this reading shows that people here would finally find their calling and it would bring them much joy.

♇ on the other hand, there could be people who picked this pile who are likely people pleasers. they would be happy that they've finally found their calling, but they could have this pressure of "realising" that other people would not like their career, that people around them expect them to do something different. though, the hermit in this reading shows that this life is yours and should not be in the hand of others. plus there's 2 two's here [JUDGEMENT 20 and THE WORLD 21]. and this hints towards a partnership where both energies are balanced and both parties will be bringing out confidence within that'll aid to a positive outcome

shuffled songs ⟶ [alejandro by lady gaga, god complex by violent vira and turn it up by pinkpantheress].

paid tarot readings here

[ozzgin]

Santa baby are you really there?!

*hears a voice in my backyard*

FUCK SKIN WALKER

- you make Yan skinwalker i’ll do anything to get a skin walker to love me … yes I am 100% mentally stable

I'm not sure if you had something horror-esque in mind, because my immediate idea was Reader accidentally getting cursed and continuing her life completely unaware with a ""dog"" everyone is freaked out by, but she finds it cute. So more like dark comedy vibes. You be the judge. :D

Disclaimer: I have changed the name to Shapeshifter as to not delve into potentially offensive takes on native folklore. Thank you for informing my European ass.

Yandere!Monster x Reader [Shapeshifter]

On your last hiking trip, you've stumbled upon a helpless, lost dog. Or rather, it stalked you down to your cabin and spent the night in front of your window. You didn't have the heart to abandon the poor soul and so you brought it home with you. Strange things have been happening ever since and no one knows how to tell you that the monstrous coyote-like creature might be to blame. You're oblivious to everything.

Content: female reader, dark comedy, monster romance, reader is cursed and proud

It wasn't your intention to return home with a new pet. Some might say it was written in the stars, this fateful encounter of yours. You had finished packing your supplies for a day-long hike, vehemently refusing to join your group of friends that would be guided around by a native. They’d warned you many areas of the mountainous forest were supposedly cursed or haunted, so you just scribbled the limits on your makeshift map and promised to stay on the main trails. After all, this was your chance to commune with nature. As the sun begun to set, you wondered if going by yourself was indeed a smart idea, given your lack of spatial awareness and difficulty to navigate maps. You flipped the piece of paper several times, deep in contemplation. Could it be that you’ve reached the forbidden lands? You quickly surveyed the area: based on the stuffed rag dolls hanging from old branches, and the animal skulls arranged in patterns among patches of burnt grass, it was very much a possibility. Perhaps the improvised slab that said “Stay away” in dripping crimson letters should’ve been enough of a warning, but you assumed they’d just been creative with trail markers.

You didn’t have the time to panic. Just as you were furrowing your eyebrows in a final attempt to decipher the map (at the time upside-down), your ears picked up a faint shuffle of leaves. Further away stood a dog, its glossy eyes fixated on your form. A lost puppy? It seemed to be on the larger side, but then again some breeds grow rather fast. You lowered yourself and patted your knees, whispering diminutives in an effort to call the animal over. It remained in place, staring quietly. Alright, then. You focused on finding your way back instead. Every now and then you'd turn back and see the dog, motionlessly eyeing you at a constant distance. Oh, dear. Was it lost? Frightening affair.

Back at the cabin you told the others about your discovery, with a hint of worry in your voice. You hoped the little pup had found proper shelter. You'd expected a similar reaction coming from your friends, but one of them suggested: "What if it was some shapeshifting monster? There's many legends and stories from the area." Everyone laughed and you joined hesitantly, mildly annoyed by the lack of empathy. That night you barely slept, twisting and turning under the heavy feeling of being watched. You woke up tired and nervous, dragging your feet towards the window for some fresh air. That's when you saw the same forest creature, fully awake and tall in its glory, positioned before your room. This was no coincidence. You had been plagued by the guilt of abandoning a vulnerable quadruped and you weren't about to continue as a passive observer. You strode out without a word and lifted the large dog with a huff, carrying it back in to figure out the transport logistics.

Thus started the unexpected companionship. To you, it's a lovely tale of two lost souls finding one another. Most people seem to disagree. Can you blame them? The rescued puppy you often speak of is, in the eyes of everyone else, a monstrous beast by all definitions. It resembles a coyote more than a dog, but even this description is too gentle. The fur is always raised threateningly and the protruding clusters of fangs remind one of the anatomical anomalies displayed in museums. The eyes, oh, the worst of all perhaps, bottomless depths that pull you in until you run out of air. The creature stares with the all-knowing gaze of a human. "Don't be rude", you snap at whoever dares to point these details out. "It must be a mixed breed or something."

Their persistence is truly ridiculous. You've even had guests run out in panic, claiming the dog stood on its back legs and whispered in a language unknown. Or that its shadow would morph into a grotesque man with claws and crooked antlers. Or that they've found it hunched over your sleeping form, its spine twisted outwards with jagged peaks breaking through the wild fur. Rubbish, all of it.

Strange things have been happening, no doubt, but your adopted fur-child has no blame to carry. You've been trying to distract yourself, going on dates and occasionally bringing potential suitors over. They all vanish overnight, nonchalantly leaving an empty, ruffled bed for you to wake up to. "Am I just unlucky?" You sigh, running your fingers through the coarse fur of your dog. It lowers itself under your touch, visibly enjoying the affection. For a split second, it glances out the window. By the time you come out of your depressed slump, the birds should've finished feeding on the remains. He made sure to tear and grind everything fine enough to not leave any marks behind.

That's how curses work, after all. He didn't expect, however, that you'd be utterly unaware of it. He has to give you the credit, not many people become stalked by an ancient curse and continue their life in blissful ignorance. Even more, for them to just casually pick up the haunting entity and bring it inside their home willingly...You're, uh, certainly a special one. Hence the change of plans. He was supposed to torment you into an early grave, but he's grown rather attached to your bizarre antics. And you do provide some damn good chin scratches. He's therefore satisfied with causing anguish and destruction to anything and anyone in your immediate vicinity instead. Since you've been complaining about the resulting isolation...

You wake up with a gasp, wiping your drenched forehead and checking the sheets. The dog is curled next to you, although its head is now tilted in your direction. "O-oh. It might be the loneliness talking...but I had the strangest dream." How troubling and embarrassing. Your beloved pet had turned into a deformed, monstrous man instead, pinning you down and hungrily grazing your skin with his sharp teeth. Your fearful protests eventually turned into shameless moans, your frail body at the mercy of the mysterious beast. It unfolded so vividly that your core feels sore. You stretch a sheepish hand towards your pet and abruptly stop halfway, noticing the marks diffused into your wrist, like violet smudges of watercolor. What the hell did you do last night?

The dog buries its head under the sheets and nuzzles its snout into your soft flesh. Heh. How many more disappearing guests will be needed for you to figure out your situation? He does find your obliviousness terribly amusing, as well as your willingness to clutch onto him despite his unsightly appearance. He was feeling particularly cheeky and thought of giving you a little scare, only to be once again taken aback by your neediness. He has to wonder who exactly is trapped in this situation, because your reactions to everything he does are frighteningly tempting. Maybe tonight he'll finally let you know, just as you're about to come undone beneath his heaving body. Something like, hmmm. "By the way, love, this isn't a dream." He could even add a little "woof" to tease you more.

[astrosamara]

Astrology Observations #7

Hi! Sorry I've been gone for so long. Life has been so busy and I've barely had any time to dedicate to astrology, but I'm planning to hopefully start posting a lot more regularly :) Enjoy!

💜People without Taurus or Libra placements in their chart can struggle with being original when it comes to fashion, design, and beauty. It's not that they don't value these things, but they feel like they need a lot of inspo before developing their personal aesthetics. This can come a lot more naturally for Taurus and Libra placements, who are ruled by Venus.

💜A lack of fire placements in the chart can result in really struggling with motivation and drive. Laziness and passiveness can be a problem. Fire dominant people tend to approach issues, obstacles or dreams head on with little contemplation time. I've noticed this the most with Aries moons, where impulsiveness can be both a challenge and a benefit in achieving goals.

💜Pisces and Sagittarius risings/Jupiter in the 1st can come across as wise teachers, yet they can be a little bit too preachy over their beliefs and believe that if everyone just listened to them and followed their advice, life would be better lol. Also, people with these placements often find that others naturally come to them for advice and appreciate their wisdom.

💜I love north node conjunct AC synastry. The north node person can view the AC person as representing an absolute ideal, someone they really admire and aspire to be. They may feel they don't yet have the confidence to step into that energy, but the AC person's influence can really help them build that confidence and step into their true selves.

💜I'm not sure if this is an unpopular opinion, but I absolutely love to see sun/venus/mars placements in opposition in marriages. I've seen so many successful and happy marriages with this synastry. There can be this very supportive and balancing energy between them. I haven't seen this as often with opposite moon signs though, as this sensitive energy can create differences in emotional needs that are more challenging to navigate romantically.

💜Jupiter in the 11th tend to receive so much luck and blessings in their life through their friendships. Very optimistic friends. They can also just really benefit from being a part of groups in general. Also, a great placement for gaining a large following online.

💜Uranus in the 6th are people who NEED variety and uniqueness in their daily lives. There could be something about their routines that are unusual and exciting. Also, these are the people that always seem to have something strange or odd happening to them. They always have a new story to tell you about something weird that happened to them recently.

💜I've seen so many people experience sudden major career changes when Uranus transited over their MC. It tends to be a very electric and exciting time in their career and reputation overall.

💜Natal mercury retrograde people can overcommunicate a lot because they don't want there to be any room for potential miscommunication or misunderstanding.

💜I can't emphasize enough how important it is to dive deep into your moon and north node placements if you're feeling lost and unfulfilled. This is where you'll find your happiness and purpose. Of course, looking at the entire birth chart is always important, but I've had the most success with these two placements when it comes to these life areas.

💜If someone has their Jupiter in your 5th, this person can be someone who really lights you up and makes you feel more creative and childlike. Just being around them feels so fun and good. You enjoy doing a lot of the same hobbies together.

💜Capricorn/Saturn in the 12th have such intense subconscious fears of failure. These fears can even pop up in their dreams a lot. They can find themselves working so hard without really stopping to question why they're working so hard. They can also take their work very seriously. The type to never take time off work.

💜I don't think I've ever met a Taurus sun I didn't like. Just so down to earth and honest. They don't have time for games or putting on a facade. Their authenticity is so admirable to me as a Scorpio. They're one of the few signs where I don't find myself questioning what they say or do. This is also true for a lot of Taurus risings as well. It's just so easy to be myself around them.

💜Mars trine Neptune people have a beautiful harmony between their dreams and their drive. They're great at turning their fantasies into reality. Incredible at manifesting. On the other hand, Saturn square Neptune people have a hard time blending the two. They struggle constantly between diving fully into their dreams or limiting themselves to a more restrictive reality.

[axolotl4days]

Batfam au angst :) also leading into (platonic) yandere batfam

What if Jason wasn't the first kid to die :)

And what if Damian wasn't Bruce's only biological kid :)

Au idea I'm simple terms: what if Bruce had a daughter in his early years of batman, who went missing and dead, but then years later reappeared and was found again, Bruce and the others won't make the same mistake twice.

Author's note before reading: Please keep in mind I'm new to this fandom, so I don't know much about what's canon. I simply get creative ideas really easily and have decided to share them.

If anyone else likes this idea, feel free to rewrite or add onto the concept, if you do please tag me I'd love to see what others do with this concept

I'm picturing reader to be the same age as or potentially slightly younger than Damian, but no specific ages are mentioned

Damian POV:

It was a day like any other, awful, Damian had to go to school. He didn't hate school, just the people there, loud, annoying, nosy.

He went about his day the same as always, reading in class and working on his work, until suddenly the principle came to class abruptly saying they had a new student, which the teacher promptly assigned to sit next to Damian. Great.

The teacher also informed him that he would be the one to show this new student around. So Damian braced himself for the extra annoying questions about him and his family, after all that's what people always want to know.

But to his suprised? This girl didn't care about any of that, simply asking questions about the class and school. She didn't even ask if he was really a Wayne, she looked a bit suprised but it wasn't the usual suprise most people had, and she didn't ask him any questions about it so it didn't matter.

As he showed her around he found out that they had the same classes, he heard her sigh of relief, but when questioned she said she was glad because it ment she wouldn't be alone in any of her classes and she'd have someone to turn to.

As the day went on they would go to class and work on classwork, it seems his new classmate was a lot smarter than the rest of them and he didn't have to constantly help her with work.

At the end of the day he made a mental note of a new acquaintance.

Later that day

"Ah, Master Damian, welcome back. How was your day at school?" Alfred asked, greeting the young boy

"It was alright Pennyworth, we had a transfer student today, but she seemed to be quite intelligent unlike the rest of those peasants" Damian replied

"Oh? A transfer student? In the middle of the school year? How odd."

"Yeah, I'll keep an eye out for any suspicious behavior, but there wasn't anything out of the ordinary, her name is Y/n." Damian said, but after saying her name he noticed Alfred looked pale

"Pennyworth? Are you feeling ill? Do I need to inform father?" Damian asked

"No no, I'm quite alright, it's just, I... used to know someone with that name, so I was suprised to hear it. That's all." Alfred replied, but he still looked pale

"If you say so. I'm going to head to my room and work on schoolwork before it's time for patrol" Damian said, and he was gone without another word

Alfred's POV:

'Calm yourself Alfred. It's a normal name that anyone could have, besides, it's been 20 years. Even if it was her she wouldn't be part of the young masters class. Still... I should inform Master Bruce, incase he mentions this classmate' Alfred thinks to himself before heading to the batcave.

There he finds both Bruce and Tim, working on the computer, searching for sightings of criminal activity, recently rumors of a new villain with unknown powers had started to arise, so it was the batman's job to keep Gotham safe

"Ahem, apologies for interrupting, but I need to borrow Master Bruce for a moment" Alfred says

"Did something happen Alfred?" Bruce asks

"No, not necessarily, it's nothing serious but we need to talk" Alfred replies

Bruce gets up and follows Alfred out of the room

"What is it Alfred? You look like you've seen a ghost." Bruce states

"Apologies Sir, as I said, it's nothing serious, however Damian informed me of a new classmate at school today" Alfred starts

"In the middle of the year?" Bruce comments

"That's what I said, however that isn't the point, I simply wanted to let you know before hand, incase the young master mentions this classmate infront of you.." Alfred pauses

"That's it? Why would you need to inform me of that" Bruce asks confused

"Well you see. He said that her name was... Y/n" Alfred states, and Bruce becomes just as pale as he is

"I see.... did Damian tell you anything else about this.... classmate?" Bruce asks

"No, he did not. But simply stated he'd keep an eye out for anything suspicious." Alfred said

"I understand." Bruce said with a deep sigh

"Are you alright Master Bruce? I know it's been a long time but-"

"I'm fine Alfred. I just... I'm fine. I need to head back to work now, we still don't know what this new villain is capable of, or what they're after." Bruce says, turning away

"Alright sir, if you insist. Please take care of yourself."

Alfred says, but he knows how Bruce is

The patrol went on as normal, and so did school. Nothing particularly interesting happened it was a week like any other, Damian and y/n would work on schoolwork together during breaks, since y/n joined late she had a lot of work to catch up on but she didn't have much trouble and Damian helped her when she did. The two had even become friends, turns out they had a lot in common, and some classmates tried to joke about how they were like siblings, but the two didn't mind. The jokes did make Damian aware of how... familiar y/n looked. He pondered the idea of her being a child from a one night stand, but the timelines didn't match up so he brushed the thought away, thinking it was a coincidence that she looked so much like Bruce. But nothing out of the ordinary happened of note, not until one fateful patrol where Damian made a discovery

Y/n POV:

Y/n didn't know where to go after waking up again, it was clear so many things have changed, and her dad taught her well. She needed more information before she made any decisions.

Unfortunately this ment she had no place to stay. After all, she couldn't go to an orphanage, she wasn't an orphan and she didn't have any documents or a story on where she came from. She knew better than to go to the police, what would she even say to them? So here she was. Sitting under a bridge hoping she won't get sick. But she was strong, she'd do what she'd have to in order to understand the situation better. Even if that means sleeping under a bridge like a troll, even if it means only eating the food provided by the school, even if it means-

"Hello there. Are you alright?" A voice asked making her jump

She turns to see, some sort of vigilante. She had heard in passing about how her dad Batman wasn't the only vigilante in Gotham anymore, so she figured it was one of them

"Oh um, I'm alright" she replied, she hadn't planned to meet any of them, she knew she might meet batman, which she kind of hoped for because then she could get some answers, but this was new territory this was- wait a minute why does he kind of look like Damian?

"Are you sure? Your sitting underneath a bridge at night, kids shouldn't be out here like this you could get hurt. Or worse. Why aren't you with your parents?" The vigilante (Damian) said, after recognizing his classmate, assessing the situation

"It's... complicated" y/n replies, before wondering how much she should tell him "I... can't really talk about it, but I can't go back home.. not yet at least, and I don't have anywhere else to go, so I've just been here" she states, hoping she didn't say to much

The vigilante just stays there for a moment, not saying anything, and she wonders if she said to much or if he thinks she's a criminal

"I see. In any case, you shouldn't be out here alone, the streets of Gotham aren't safe, however if you insist on staying out here may I suggest somewhere that isn't so easily spotted? You wouldn't want to be attacked. I know a few places that are safer than.. this" The vigilante says offering a hand

"Oh, uhm" y/n thinks for a moment, weighing her options "I'll take you up on that offer, it's not great down here" y/n replies, taking his hand

The two go to a more remote, slightly cleaner area

"Here we are, even if it's temporary this would be a better place for a shelter than where you were before. I don't know what's going on, but if you need assistance, im willing to help" the vigilante replies

"Thank you, you've really been more than enough help and I appreciate it a lot. If I need anything il let you know....."

"... Robin. My name is Robin." Robin says, noticing her pause

"Robin... thank you for the help, good luck with the rest of your patrol" y/n says

"Of course, you be careful now, always keep an eye out." Robin says, before leaving

'Phew.... he's gone. That was definitely him, and he definitely recognized me. Now what. He didn't say anything so they're definitely still doing the secret identity thing. I guess I'll just have to play it cool and hope he doesn't say anything at school. If any of the teachers find out I'm definitely gonna get investigated and then my whole plan will be thrown out the window.' Y/n thinks to herself 'Maybe this is a good thing, if he's Robin, it's likely that dad's still Batman too, which means I might run into him. What if he doesn't recognized me? What if he does recognize me?? What if- what if he didn't miss me.... no, no! This is dad, of course he missed me but it's been... so long... what do I do if he doesn't want me back...' y/n starts to worry about before she falls to the floor and starts to cry

Which, unbeknownst to her, Damian saw, he doesn't know why she's crying or why it makes him feel so... protective but he knows somethings up, so he goes off and reports what he knows to Batman

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

Aaaaand cliffhanger! Mwahahahaha

I would have kept going, and I know exactly what's coming next, but I've been typing for awhile and I have no idea how long this post is, and I don't want it to be too long

So I'm stopping it there,

This wasn't supposed to be this much but my creative brain decided to run with this idea, so there's gonna be a part 2 soon

Also I've decided to call this au

Batman Dead Daughter Au

Because.... idk what else to call it and if I'm gonna make a part 2 and potentially more depending on how this goes, I'm gonna need something to refer to it with.

As I said before, I'm extremely new to the batman stuff

Pretty much all of my knowledge comes from youtube and tumblr, so bare with me if things are out of character

I've also never written fanfiction before, it's always just been in my head, so the writing is probably a bit funny

Yes I'm a writer in the making but I haven't actually gotten to the writing part

And fanfiction is a bit different

Hope yall like the concept tho

Again, feel free to write your own version of this if you want to, just tag me so I can read it too lol

[roc-haze]

I HAVE MISSED YOU SO MUCH 🥹🥹🥹

I’m desperate for something angsty like Fleetwood Mac vjbes

Ask and you shall receive!

This one is for my discord girlies 🫶

Silver Springs | WillNE

Y/N hadn’t planned on being part of Will’s production team. In fact, she hadn’t planned on being anyone’s content creating employee.

She’d had her own career path. She worked a job in business, but created art in her spare time. As a good friend of Freezy’s, she’d been around a few different sets and had given her input (which largely went unnoticed by most people except Freezy and Lux until Will came along).

It started with a text. Y/N had followed Will’s content for a while. She had strayed away from consuming any content from anyone she knew personally, but after a few good impressions, she often found herself trawling both of Will’s channels (as well as Quadrant’s) in search of entertainment. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but was something refreshing about Will. He was real under all the jokes and pranks. He was relatable, despite being immersed in the now rather unreachable world of content creating.

Y/N: Just saw your latest video. The production value with this one was increddddible.

Will: I thought you might like it! I took your advice about the lighting and updated the camera settings

Y/N: I can tell - such a small change but it translates so well!

Will: I might have to bring you on board for the next shoot

Will: If you’re up for it?

Y/N: Always

And from there, it was like they fell into an effortless rhythm. Y/N was drawn to his creative chaos, and he was amazed by her ability to rein in his wild ideas and turn them into something coherent and, dare he say it, aesthetically pleasing. She was immediately made to feel like she was part of the team, getting along incredibly well with his current production crew. She was a fresh pair of eyes.

Over time, their relationship began to change. It started out as completely professional, the two of them able to separate their work lives with their budding friendship. When he offered to take her on as a full time employee, things began to shift. There was no longer a buffer. No other job for her to go to. Will would send Y/N bullet point ideas for videos and she’d respond with an itinerary, potential locations, places to source materials from. She would take his ideas straight off the page and design the hell out of it. Everything she touched became magic. Including Will. Their mutual friends didn’t miss the way his eyes lit up when she walked into a room, or the cheeky grin that occupied his features when she’d text back. Somewhere between the very beginning of their friendship and today, they’d fallen in a habit of long working hours followed by after work festivities. A drink here, a “come over and I’ll cook” there.

They had found themselves on her couch on a Friday evening, two bottles of red deep and several plates of sushi full. Fleetwood Mac’s “Silver Spring” playing on vinyl.

“Imagine being someone’s silver spring.” Y/N had stated, half lidded gaze on the abandoned Netflix show paused on the screen.

Will turned to face her. “How do you mean?”.

“Like loving someone so much that it haunts them.” She said offhandedly.

“I think you’d be more of a gold dust woman. I think you’re too kind to haunt someone forever. Maybe just for a little while.” He laughed.

A heavy silence fell over the room.

“You know that Lux asked me what’s going on between us.” She met his eyes.

He swallowed hard. “And what did you tell him?”.

“That I was waiting for you to figure it out. You have a drawer in my apartment, Will. I can’t say the same for Orla or Ieuan.” She looked straight through him.

Y/N had always been intimidating in a I-know-myself-and-I’m-unfuckwithable kind of way, but she made Will feel like he’d been stripped naked and vulnerable. “What if I did have a drawer at Orla’s?” he asked cautiously.

“Then you wouldn’t have one here.” She spoke assertively.

Wordlessly, he sank to his knees in front of her seat on the couch. Will, reluctant to meet her gaze, ran his hands along the tops of her thighs. Y/N gently took his face between her hands, gingerly tracing along the right side of his jaw. “Have you figured it out yet?”.

He didn’t answer, instead standing up and pulling her up with him, capturing her lips in an absolutely burning, searing kiss. Little words were exchanged as he backed her into the wall, tugging on the hem of her shirt.

——

A few months had passed. “Content planning meetings” rolled into evenings and ultimately all ended the same: open mouthed kisses between the sheets, the same vinyl playing, phones on do not disturb. On nights where the boys would occupy Will’s time or weekends where Y/N would go day drinking with her girlfriends, their reluctant goodbyes would leave behind evidence in the form of fogged windows and flushed cheeks.

But no one knew. Not Freezy, who cracked jokes constantly and would have a field day. Not Lux, who would see right through them if they slipped even once. Not even Stephen, who missed nothing and said even less.

They were careful. Until they weren’t. In a Wednesday night trip to the pub, they were stood at the jukebox. Y/N’s hand on the back of his neck. Her breath at his ear. Her voice sent vibrations running through his chest.

“Alright, close your eyes. I might surprise you here.” Y/N rest her head on his shoulder, Will covering her eyes with his hand.

A few moments later, Fleetwood Mac’s “Everywhere” reverberated through the speaker. He felt her smile beneath his hand, removing it to see her completely. He grabbed her hand, pulling her into a makeshift waltz position and dancing her around the open floor of the pub.

Becky quirked an eyebrow, looking toward Lux. “I wish they’d hurry up and shag already.”

Lux took a sip of his drink. “Something tells me they already have.”

——

What was once fun and exciting began to feel like the situationship from hell. Working with your boss, sleeping with him and driving separate cars into work in the hopes no one would notice. Will would do his washing at Y/N’s and she would fold his towels. He’d watch her in the bathroom mirror and hand her the moisturiser they shared as he brushed his teeth. He knew where her cutlery lived, where to find her favourite mug and how to locate the spare lightbulbs. Even still, he had no clue how to let her in. She’d ask him the dreaded “what are we” question and he’d roll over, mumbling an “I’m tired” before subsequently burying his head in his pillow on his side of the bed in her apartment.

So, she created distance. Left early for ‘appointments’, spent more time with Becky and Sabina, left the contents of his drawer on his desk.

They were in the kitchenette of the office one Friday, both reaching for the same mug - hers, but Will picked it up first. Their fingers brushed. Nothing obvious. But Y/N’s gaze flicked up to his, tension boiling between them.

“That’s mine,” she said softly. “I’m making coffee.”

“Sorry. You can have it,” he replied, just as low.

But she didn’t take the mug. Instead, she stepped closer, hitting his chest. Heat radiated off of her. He swallowed.

“Don’t do that,” she said.

“Do what?”

“Make this just...this.” She gestured to the mug he held and then between the two of them. “You can’t fuck me and match my fucking socks and then pretend I’m nothing to you.”

He stepped back.

Y/N didn’t.

“You can’t pretend I’m some dirty mistress forever, Will. Eventually, you’ll have to feel something.” She stared him down, her gaze unwavering.

“I do feel something.” He felt like she could see straight through him.

“Then say it. Act like it. Do something other than refuse to let me in.”

But he didn’t. He never did. The thought of letting her in terrified the shit out of him. Letting their relationship develop beyond the gentle touches, the same Fleetwood Mac record and the lipstick stains left on the corner of his mouth felt too vulnerable.

Finally, she stepped back.

“You know,” she said, “I could really love you. You won’t let me.”

On Monday, she quit hovering. She wouldn’t reply to his messages outside of their regular working hours. She let men in bars buy her drinks. She developed the hell out of his video concepts and she took the credit she deserved, even consulting on a few videos for Freezy. To their friends, she was as loveable as ever. She indulged in gossip with the girls, let Arthur talk her ear off about his latest hyperfixation and she workshopped stand up routines with Stephen.

But with Will, she had immediately put boundaries back into place. She’d drawn a line in the sand.

At a table occupied by all of their friends, she stood up and started gathering her belongings. Will caught her eye. “Y/N.” He spoke loud enough for the majority of the table to hear.

George, Lux, Freezy and Chris’s eyes snapped forward.

“What, Will?” She spoke, short and impatient.

He went to speak, but words failed him. He opened his mouth before hesitating and closing it again. “Nevermind.”

And with that, she turned and left.

Later that night, he sat in his own apartment with the lights dimmed low and YouTube music playing. Her favourite Fleetwood Mac album playing.

"I know I could have loved you, but you would not let me..."

She was his silver spring.

She loved him so much it haunted him.

….

A/N: Here we go friends!

Let me know your thoughts 🩵 and pls comment if you’d like to be put onto a tag list!

Taglist: @octaneink @whore4fanfics @mrswillne

[merl-merl]

Loved this post (all credit goes to the OP):

“I just realized that the reason the “male loneliness epidemic” discourse is so infuriating is because it’s basically a collective version of something that always happens to me in my serious relationships with straight men - men asking for sex via asking for “intimacy” and “companionship”, and being forced to take the “bid for intimacy” topic seriously when you know what it’s really about.

Everyone has run into an internet misogynist, who seems to hate women so much that women can no longer provide him with the patriarchal validation he craves to the point where people openly dunk on him for potentially being gay, but centering convos about the worst assholes on the planet isn’t very productive. Especially because even Good Men do this.

Have you ever been dating a decent man exclusively when he starts a conversation about “needs” and “physical intimacy” and “just wanted to make sure things are okay” and “just checking in” and while you’re waiting for him to spit it out, you realize… this is about how we haven’t fucked in X days. And even he hasn’t made that connection.

Have you ever dated a mostly ok man who talked a big game about consent and never pouted or guilted you when you aren’t in the mood, but if that goes on for a couple of days, he will start a conversation asking if “everything is okay” and “just wanted to communicate” and “things have seemed off recently”, and you’re like…. things seem off because we haven’t fucked in X days?

But you can’t say that!!! You’re painting him as a sex-crazed monster!!! He was talking about intimacy!!! How is he supposed to communicate about his needs if you’re just gonna call him a horndog???

“Needs”? Ooops, he meant, uh… things he enjoys doing only when I am comfy and safe and enthusiastically consenting.

But you haven’t wanted to do them in X days and now he feels like you don’t love him anymore 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺Some assurance would go a long way. Assurance and a fuck even further. And if you fuck him, this conversation gets dropped entirely. At least for the next X days.

This pattern of men being so emotionally backed up by patriarchy that they can’t recognize that they aren’t “putting out bids for intimacy”, they want to fuck and anything else is an emotional and physical cop out that doesn’t soothe the wound, is why I flip my lid at the first talk of “male loneliness”.

Men aren’t deconstructing why they have been groomed to be emotionally and sexually dependent on women to the point where friendship and familial support doesn’t soothe their loneliness; they are just finding new and creative ways to continue nagging us for not supplying them with the sex they have been told they need to feel whole.

We women allllllllllll know what men mean when they say “loneliness”. They don’t want friendship with any gender, the don’t want to get a massage to sate their touch starvation, they don’t want companionship with a woman: they want a woman to fuck and nothing else will do, and we have to therapy-speak our way around these conversations because they’re framed as anything but a request for sex, and I have fucking had it.

Men grow the fuck up and confront patriarchy directly without making women do it for you, challenge level: impossible”

[wintrwinchestr]

strangers | part 3

summary: when nothing comes of the frantic call for help you'd made just before joel had attempted to take your life, you realize that he had been telling you the truth—nobody cares about you, and nobody is coming for you. the fear of being forgotten becomes so overwhelming, you decide to go against your better judgement in a last-ditch effort to make sure that somebody knows you're still here. what you hadn't anticipated, is that you'd be putting more than just your own life in danger by doing so.

!!PLEASE READ WARNINGS, THIS IS A VERY DARK FIC!!

I've tried to label this fic as detailed and as boldly as possible. I will not be held responsible or bullied off the internet if you choose to read this potentially upsetting/triggering work of fiction anyway.

warnings: joel miller x f!reader, 18+, smut, age gap (reader is college-aged, joel is mid-50s), no outbreak au, serial killer!joel, dark!joel, talk of death/murder and blood, mommy issues, lying/gaslighting, manipulation, introduction of female original character, reader's skintone shows bruises, reader has at least shoulder-length hair, reader's hair texture can be put into ponytails, reader has pubic hair, groping, fingering, kissing, fingersucking (both reader and joel), mild blood kink, domination and control that is essentially abuse, development of stockholm syndrome, pet names (baby, darlin', babydoll, sweetheart), story inspired by "preacher's daughter" by ethel cain, vaguely set in the 70s, please respectfully let me know if i missed anything and i will rectify the tags

word count: 12.9k

a/n: heyyy... how y'all doin... it's been a while. i am very excited to share the next part of this story, written by some miraculous feat of perseverance. if you're still here, thank you for sticking around. i love joel and babydoll so so much and they have never left my heart or my mind, even when i was taking a break from them. i thought that putting a hard stop to my hobbies while i was having a difficult time at work was a good coping mechanism, but i realized last month that i can't let them take my creativity away from me no matter how hard they try. thank you @chippedowlmug and @polaroidpascal for always yapping with me and keeping their story alive even when i didn't have it in me to write it all down. there is much more of them still to come, thank you for being here <3

divider by @saradika

series masterlist/moodboard

read this chapter on ao3

part 4

You can’t sleep.

Each time the air conditioning kicks on, or the pipes let out a rattling groan, or the mattress springs creak underneath Joel’s weight, your eyes snap open again. Each time you hope to awaken to the sight of blue and red lights streaming in through the crooked blinds, and each time you’re disappointed. Your heart rate hasn’t been able to settle into any kind of steady rhythm all night, the muscle beating erratically every time you hear so much as a cricket chirp or a gust of wind outside. You could’ve sworn at one point you had heard distant footsteps crunching through the gravel parking lot, and you’d held your breath as you imagined they belonged to a police officer coming to your rescue, sent by the woman who had picked up your call for help. Any minute now the footsteps would reach your room, and you’d hear fists pounding on the door as they demanded entry. 

That minute had turned into five, then ten, and then fifteen, before the sound had repeated itself, and you’d realized it was just some nocturnal critter rustling around in the trash can outside the door. 

It’s been hours now since you’d made your futile little escape attempt, since you’d uttered all of about four words to the woman on the other end of the line before Joel had pounced on you like an animal, ripped the phone out of your hand, and dragged you back into his lair. 

…Someone had picked up, hadn’t they? Your memory is failing you now. Maybe the line was dead, maybe you hadn’t inserted enough coins for the call to go through, maybe you had only wanted there to be somebody out there who cared, and you had just hallucinated the woman’s tinny voice in your terrified state.

What you can be sure you hadn’t hallucinated, however, is the contents of the box you wish you had never pulled out from underneath the bench seat. You can’t escape the graphic memories of the polaroids that project themselves onto the backs of your eyelids each time they dare to close, jolting you back into reality the second your consciousness begins to slip away. You can’t help but think about how Joel had made you lay perfectly still for him while he forced himself inside of you, and you taste bile in the back of your throat as you wonder if he had ever really violated any of the other girls that way, or if it was just some sick fantasy.

You’re almost certain of what the answer is, but you try to swallow it down along with the sourness in your mouth.

You think about how scared you were, how scared you are, and how scared they must have been in their final moments, knowing there was nothing they could do anymore except submit themselves to his violence and hope he would at least make it quick. Eighteen or so years’ worth of dreams and desires and ambitions dashed in a single night, snuffed out in an instant as he reduced their bodies to nothing more than something limp and pliant for him to play with. You think about Ruby, and try to blink away the sudden vision of sunken glassy eyes and blonde ringlets covered in dirt and blood, skin pale and body decaying in a forgotten patch of land off the side of the road somewhere. You hope if he had ever spared even one of them from his grotesque defilement, that it was her.

You’re crying, you realize, when you feel a hot tear pooling in the shell of your ear, and you try to suppress your shuddering sobs as the guilt begins to feel all-consuming. How come you’re still alive to feel Joel’s hot breath raise the hairs on the back of your neck, and yet there’s a fucking shoebox full of dozens and dozens of girls who’d been brutalized and violated and discarded like trash? What makes you so fucking special? Being lost and naive and stupid enough to play into his little game without knowing what the cost would be if you’d tried to back out, to say that you’d changed your mind because he was too rough and controlling and it wasn’t fun anymore, like the rest of them probably had? It isn’t fair that you get to escape their fates just because you were the only one fucked up enough to enjoy the game, at least while it had lasted.

You’re going to wake him up with all your sniffling and shivering if you don’t get yourself under control somehow. You need to breathe. You need to get some air. Feel the breeze on your face and look up at the stars and calm yourself down enough to try and get at least a couple hours of sleep tonight. Lord knows you’ll probably need them tomorrow. 

Although Joel had fallen asleep with his arm locked tight around your chest, it rests across his own now, rising and falling slowly with his breathing. He seems to be in true, deep sleep, having laid perfectly still for the past couple of hours save for the bear-like snorts he lets out every once in a while. Must have really worn himself out last night, you think to yourself, the tone of the voice in your head dripping with venom.

You wait another couple of minutes for the AC unit to turn back on, and use its obnoxious metallic rattling to cover the sound of you peeling back the thin sheet and musty comforter. You do so carefully, in as slow and as delicate movements you can manage in your current state, practically placing your feet on the carpet one toe at a time before pushing yourself up to a standing position. Joel makes some kind of grumbling cough just as you finish straightening out your spine, and it startles a gasp from you. You cover your mouth quickly and turn back to face him with wide eyes, afraid that you’ll find his own darkened ones staring back at you. 

They’re still closed, to your immense relief, but his mouth is hanging open now, his sharp canines catching the moonlight in a way that sends a shiver down your back. You still have another minute or so of cover from the air conditioning before the room is cloaked in sinister silence once again, so you use your last remaining seconds to sweep the floor with your bare feet, blindly feeling around in the dark for your shoes. Come on, where the fuck are they? you wonder, sure that you would’ve kicked them over by now, if they were still in the spot Joel had put them after he had stripped off your clothes and pulled you into the shower with him. 

Fuck.

He locked them in the fucking truck, along with the rest of your clothes, along with all of his clothes and both of your bags full of your modest belongings. You’d been tucked into bed already, sniffling quietly into the pillow as he’d made one last trip outside in nothing but his briefs just to ensure that you wouldn’t be motivated to try something again during the night. You’d hardly be able to make it anywhere without a stitch of clothing on your back except for his threadbare t-shirt, after all, the length of it just barely enough to cover the tufts of curls that poke out from the apex of your thighs. 

“Just a lil’ insurance policy. You understand, sweetheart,” Joel had whispered, slipping the key to the truck underneath his pillow before slithering into bed behind you, wrapping his arms around you and constricting you like a snake. 

Fuck it. It’s been too long. You tiptoe across the few feet of space between your side of the bed and the door to the room, thankful that the AC rattles out one last dissonant groan loud enough to cover the squeak of the hinges and the click of the lock. 

Free from the confines of that cage-like room at last, you shakily exhale the breath you’d been holding, and the desert air is cold enough for you to see the pale cloud of it against the onyx-colored sky. With your back pressed up against the door and your hands splayed out against the wood, you look up at the endless expanse of stars above the treeline and let out a shuddering sob, the sight both comforting and overwhelming all at once. 

You feel small. You feel lost. You feel trapped. Scared. Sick. Confused. Everything. Nothing.

There’s a whole world out there, right in front of you, all around you, and it was waiting to welcome you with open arms, if you hadn’t fallen into the wrong ones first. You feel both grateful and damned to be alive, relieved that you’ve been fortunate enough to live to see another day, but knowing that each one that follows will be spent with him. In his captivity, doing his bidding, spending the rest of your life trying to decide which side of his polaroid camera is the worse one to be on. 

The polaroids. You just can’t fucking get them out of your head. The only physical evidence of what happened to any of those girls, now sitting at the bottom of a gas station trash can, likely covered up with empty soda cans and fast food wrappers and grease-stained napkins by now. That black plastic bag was probably tossed into a dumpster sometime last night, ready to be loaded onto a trash truck and taken to a landfill, never to be seen again. Discarded. Forgotten.

If anything, you wish you could at least provide some kind of closure to their parents, to Mr. and Mrs. Carpenter, who only gave up the search for their daughter because they had let the police convince them that their bright, beautiful, and promising child had just decided to run away that summer. You wish you could somehow make it back across the country, walk up to their home and knock on the door and be able to tell them “I know what happened to her. A man took her—a monster. He killed her. I’m sorry.”

But then, what condolence would that provide them, without a body to lay to rest? You wouldn’t even know where to begin to look for her. Joel probably doesn’t even fucking remember where she is anymore, where any of them are. He probably just picks the most unassuming, low-trafficked area he can find nearby to dump their bodies after he’s done with them, chosen as carelessly as he would the next cigarette out of his pack—a thatch of tall grass off the side of a back road, a pile of dry-rotted debris where a barn once stood, an algae-covered pond behind a long-abandoned farmhouse. Bleak, filthy, forgettable places, where nobody would ever be able to find them.

Another sob wracks your body, and you muffle the sound with your hand as you slide down the door, your knees giving out from underneath you as you collapse onto the sidewalk. 

Nobody knows where you are, or what happened to you, and nobody fucking cares. Not the police, not your own mother. You’ll be forgotten just like the rest of them if you haven’t been already, whether you make it out of this alive or not. 

You can’t bear the thought. You thought you could, when you had first left home and started following Ruby’s trail all that time ago. It had seemed inspiring at the time, the idea of leaving that suffocating little town in search of somewhere else to plant your roots and let yourself bloom. But now… you have to make sure that someone knows the truth. Whether they care about you enough to come to your rescue or not, you need at least one person out there to know that you didn’t just vanish into the wind. That you’re still alive. That you’re still out there. That you haven’t given up yet.

You close your eyes for a moment, taking a few steadying breaths as the cool night breeze dries your tears and the thin veil of sweat that your anxious spiral had produced. When you open them again, your gaze lands on the payphone across the parking lot, and you heave a despondent sigh as you study a moth fluttering dizzily around the bulb that illuminates the little booth. The phone is even more useless to you now than it was the first time, without access to the handful of quarters that are still locked inside Joel’s truck. With that option eliminated, you push yourself up to your feet, and feel the tiny muscles in your toes spasm with the desire to run. You try to rewind your memory several hours back, searching for even a glimpse of something that might tell you where the fuck you are, which direction to head in—had you passed any street signs, local schools, city halls, anything? You must’ve been too terrified to pay any attention to your surroundings as Joel drove from the gas station to the motel, devoting all of your focus to planning your failed getaway. Joel was probably counting on that, and had intentionally picked this drab little motel in the middle of fucking nowhere in order to imprison you here.

You finally tear your eyes away from that hopeless, trapped little moth, instead turning your head toward the motel office all the way down at the end of the row of rooms. There’s a dim light on inside, but no other sign of a person working there. Considering the isolated nature of this bygone stretch of highway, the motel might not even get enough business to justify paying a person to man the front desk all night. You chew on your lip, debating if it’s even worth a shot just to take a look around and see if you can find anything of use in there.

Your feet are stepping one in front of the other before you can stop them, leading you toward the door with “OFFICE” painted on the glass window in bold red letters. Goosebumps rise on the exposed skin of your legs as you walk, and you almost hope that there isn’t anybody in there after all, just to spare yourself the embarrassment of having to talk to some innocent bystander while you grasp desperately at the bottom hem of your shirt and your remaining shreds of dignity. You hate how well Joel’s little “insurance policy” is working exactly the way he wanted it to.

The doorknob is cold against your fingertips, and your breath hitches in surprise when you’re able to turn it with no resistance. You slip inside the office and close the door behind you quietly, taking a beat to survey the wood-paneled room—there’s a corkboard of room keys with only one empty hook, a clock on the wall that makes you jump with each startling tick, and a coffee maker in the corner covered in a thin layer of dust, illuminated by the slices of white moonlight coming in through the blinds. It’s all too still, too untouched, everything about the room only emphasizing how absolutely alone you are here. And yet, you can’t shake the eerie feeling of a presence, of eyes on you, watching you and waiting to jump out from the shadows and drag you back to your keeper. 

Just find what you came in here to look for and get the fuck out, you scold yourself, stepping behind the front desk and opening each drawer one by one as you search for the handful of items on your mental checklist—a pen, paper, an envelope, and a stamp. 

It’s not your brightest idea, attempting to send a letter back home to your mother. But it’s better than doing nothing, just disappearing into the forest and letting the monster that lurks there kick dirt over your trail of breadcrumbs. Even if just one remains, it will be enough to prove that you were ever there at all.

The pen and paper were easiest to find, sitting right on top of the desk in plain sight. You’d torn off a sheet of the motel’s personalized notepad, the place’s name and address printed neatly across the top. If your mother does find it in her heart to come looking for you, at least she’ll know where to start.

The envelope and stamp are proving more difficult to locate, and each deafening tick of the clock above your head taunts you with its reminder of how much time you’ve been in here, out of bed, away from Joel. Your searching becomes a little more frantic, less gentle moving of objects out of the way and more haphazardly swiping them around the drawers in your fruitless scavenging. 

“Um… hi there—” comes a voice from behind you, nearly startling a scream from your throat as you whirl around. You hit your hip on the open drawer and wince, and the owner of the voice puts her hands out in front of her, as if she had just spooked a small dog. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you…” She flits her eyes up and down your minimally clad form as she apologizes, and you self consciously yank your shirt down over your thighs. “Are you okay? Can I help you with something?”

She’s young, pretty, maybe a few years older than you, with doe-like green eyes and a pale face dappled with caramel-colored freckles. 

“I-I was just, um… looking for an envelope? A-and a stamp, if you have any,” you confess shakily, your heart pounding and cheeks burning as you fidget nervously with the hem of your shirt. You glance over the girl’s shoulder and see a door you hadn’t noticed before, now open. There’s a drab-colored couch and a small flickering TV inside, playing at a volume low enough that you hadn’t heard it at all through the closed door. She must spend most of her night shift in there, watching reruns of old movies and munching on stovetop popcorn to stay alert just in case some poor soul comes stumbling into the office in need of her assistance. You feel a small pang of jealousy in your stomach as you imagine what a relaxed, carefree night she must have been having, while you were fighting for your life under the very same roof.

“Oh, sure! They’re just, um… Excuse me—” she says meekly as she steps in your direction. You scurry out of her way, swiping the pen and paper from the top of the desk as you do. She takes your place to crouch down and tug open the very bottom drawer in the stack you had been searching through, and rifles around for just a moment before she finds what she’s looking for. She hands the items off to you as she rises back to her full height, just a couple of inches above your own. “Here you are. Is that all you need?”

Yes. No. Not even fucking close.

You turn over the stationery in your hands, running your thumbs across the smooth surface of the envelope as you debate whether or not you should ask her for what you really need—help. 

But the girl has so much life in her eyes, so much color in her cheeks that you can see even in the office’s low lighting, that you’d never be able to forgive yourself if you decide to involve her in this. Her face would be printed on the side of a milk carton the second you open your mouth.

“Mhm, just this stuff. Thank you.” You do your best to make it sound like the truth.

“...Are you sure?” She presses, gesturing to either side of her neck, her auburn eyebrows peaked with concern.

Shit.

In your effort to make sure your bottom half stayed covered, you had forgotten about the dark marks Joel had created around your throat just a handful of hours earlier. They must be pretty noticeable already, if this girl—Chrissy, her name tag reads—is able to spot them just by the light of one yellow bulb and a few slats of moonlight.

You nod, fighting the whimper that threatens to escape when you bring one hand up to press into your bruises, the other holding your letter-writing supplies in front of your lap.

“Yeah, it’s nothing,” you lie, though you can tell she doesn’t believe you. You wouldn’t believe you, either. But you’re thankful that she decides to let it go, anyway. 

Chrissy nods, too. “So… you’re trying to mail a letter, then? We can’t really send it from here, but there’s a few mailboxes in town, if you’re gonna be sticking around for a little bit.”

“Oh, um… I’m not sure. Maybe,” you reply, offering a small smile as you shift your weight awkwardly. “Thank you.”

Chrissy presses her lips together, giving you another quiet nod along with one last sympathetic glance at your disheveled form. “Are you sure you don’t need anything else? I might have a pair of sweatpants with me if you—”

“No, no, it’s okay. I have to… he’s gonna, um…” You fumble, gesturing back to the room at the end of the row while you scramble for some kind of excuse that doesn’t give too much of your situation away. “I’m just going back to bed anyway, so… I’m okay. Thank you, though.”

A few beats of silence linger between you before you speak up again. “Could I write it in here, though? Just like… at the desk? I’ll be quick, I promise.”

She looks at you like you’re a kicked puppy as she replies, “Of course you can. I’ll be back there, if you decide you do want the change of clothes after all. If you could just close the door on your way out, and… be careful, okay?”

“Okay,” you half-whisper, and you can’t help the way your bottom lip trembles when Chrissy retreats back into that cozy little room, leaving the door cracked open just enough for the voices from her movie to keep you company while you write. You glance up at the clock once before you begin, promising to allow yourself no more than five minutes to say what you need to say, seal it away in the envelope, and sneak back into bed without Joel ever noticing you were gone. 

You used to pride yourself on your neat handwriting, when you were still in school and a thing as trivial as that actually mattered. But you haven’t had to write anything by hand in so long now that you hardly recognize the disconnected capital “T”s and chaotically pointed “M”s as you scribble them down. The words are still mostly legible, though, even the ones that were accidentally blurred by stray tears you couldn’t wipe away in time before they hit the page.

You read over the letter once as the clock counts out your last remaining seconds, and decide it’s good enough to be slipped inside the envelope and secured with a swipe of your saliva. Your stomach flips when you go to write your home address on the front, fearing that you’ve forgotten it in all the time that Joel has spent scrubbing you clean of who you were before you met him. But when you close your eyes, you hear the song your father used to sing to you to help you remember it when you were little, in case you ever got lost and needed to tell someone where you came from. It had never really come in handy, until now.

With your sufficiently addressed and stamped envelope in hand, you quietly exit the office and pad your way back down the sidewalk to the room where your captor lies waiting. You press your ear to the door before entering, and wait until you hear the telltale groan of the air conditioning kicking back on. When the mechanical sound reaches its full volume, you slip back through the door and shut it behind you all in one swift, delicate movement. You slink over to your side of the bed like a cat, and tuck the envelope underneath the mattress as you gently crawl back underneath the covers, next to Joel’s still-sleeping form, in the exact same position you had left him in. The slight disruption of your weight depressing the mattress prompts him to roll over in his unconscious state, and his skin is scorching against your own as he wraps you up in his arms again, pulling you tight against his chest. He gives a slow buck of his hips against your backside and releases a quiet growl into your hair that makes you shiver despite the heat he radiates.

You can’t fight the pull of your heavy eyelids for much longer, the wave of adrenaline you had been riding all night finally coming to a crest and crashing against you all at once. Telling your story, getting the words down on paper, having some kind of half-assed plan to make sure you don’t just disappear into the ether, seems to have given you more peace of mind than expected, at least in your delirious, traumatized, and sleep-deprived condition. For now, you’re still treading water, still holding your head above the surface of the deep dark unknown that awaits, and it’s enough for your exhausted mind to finally show you a few hours worth of mercy. 

You will survive this, you won’t disappear, even if you have to take it one excruciating day at a time.

—

The first day of the rest of your life begins that hazy morning after, when Joel finally rouses around ten o’clock from what seems to have been a relatively deep slumber. He tightens his grip around your upper body as he purrs out a sleepy groan, wetly kissing under your ear before mumbling, “Mornin’ babydoll.” Your body seems to have not caught up with reality just yet, evident in the way your cunt still flutters involuntarily at the sound of his gravelly morning voice and the warm slide of his tongue. You curse yourself for the instinctual reaction, wishing you could just reset all of the ways that your nerves have been trained to react to his touch over the past few months.

“Morning, Joel,” you whisper, and you can feel his half-hard length pressing into your back.

“You sleep okay, sweetheart?”

Your eyes go a little wide at his question, and you’re grateful that you’re still facing away from him. Is this a test? You can’t be sure anymore. But if he had ever realized you were gone during the night, surely he wouldn’t wait until the next morning to do something about it… right?

You nod. “Mhm, fine.” Your voice cracks a little, but Joel doesn’t seem to notice.

“Good, tha’s good…” he snakes a hand between your legs, finding its way underneath your—his—oversized shirt to lightly prod at your bare little hole. “And how’s she doin’, hm? Was dreamin’ about her all night, how fuckin’ good ‘n tight she was for me… She feelin’ sore at all this mornin’, babydoll?”

“A little, yeah.” His touch makes you shudder, but you know better than to try and reject it.

Joel tuts, circling the roughened pad of his finger over your clit. “Poor thing… ‘M sorry about that, baby. Jus’ got a lil’ carried away last night, tha’s all. You forgive me, don’t you, sweetheart? You understand?”

You hesitate, swallowing down the bitter taste of the lie you’re about to tell. “Yes, it’s… it’s okay, Joel.”

“Mmm, just the sweetest lil’ girl, ain’t you?” Joel says, swiping two of his fingers through your folds to collect some of your involuntary slick. He pulls his hand out from under the covers and sucks one of the damp digits into his mouth, releasing a pleasured groan. Joel gives another slow grind into your ass before bringing his hand in front of your face, pushing the other still-wet finger between your lips and forcing you to taste yourself. “See how sweet she is for me, baby? Think she forgives me too, don’t she?”

You nod around his finger, humming in pretend agreement.

“Perfect… so perfect for me, my lil’ doll,” Joel muses, sliding his finger back and forth across your tongue and teasing the back of your throat with each intrusive thrust. You fight to suppress your gag reflex until he eventually removes his finger from your mouth, wiping the dampness off on your shirt. “C’mere, pretty girl. Gimme a kiss,” he grumbles, gripping a paw onto your shoulder and pulling backwards, using the leverage to get you to roll onto your other side to face him.

The warm morning light coming in from the window illuminates the back of his head, highlighting the way his mussed salt and pepper locks stick up every which way. This is the first time you’re getting a good look at him since you had first spotted his disturbing keepsake box peeking out from underneath the bench seat, since he had snapped at you for trying to grab it, since you had still thought that would be the worst thing he’d ever do to you. It’s almost comical, in a sinister sort of way, how harmless Joel looks like this, with his scarred nose and stubbled cheeks still rosy from sleep.

You hadn’t anticipated how complicated it would be to still have to feign intimacy with him, how dizzying it already feels to stand on the sidelines in your own mind and watch your desire wrestle with your disgust. Joel presses his lips against your own, and you do your best not to grimace as you kiss him back. He still feels the same, still tastes the same, like black coffee and cigarettes and spearmint. But he isn’t the same.

Joel parts your teeth with his tongue as he deepens the kiss, hungrily lapping into your mouth as you let him take what he wants, only pulling away from him once he breaks the connection first. He brushes some of your hair away from your face when he does, admiring your slightly swollen lips as he rubs his calloused thumbs across your cheeks.

“Whaddya say we just have ourselves a nice afternoon together, hm? Think there might be a lil’ town nearby, could get us somethin’ to eat, maybe even do some shoppin’, dependin’ on what’s there.”

There’s a few mailboxes in town, if you’re gonna be sticking around for a little bit, you hear Chrissy’s voice repeat what she had told you last night, and feel an exhilarated pang in your chest when you remember the envelope you have hidden beneath you.

You try not to answer too eagerly, taking a beat before you respond with a quiet “Really?” “Yeah, babydoll. Why, you don’t wanna?”

“No! No, I—that sounds good. I just didn’t think… I thought you’d wanna get going again, or something. After… you know.” You bring your hand up to touch the sore sides of your neck instinctually, unable to bring yourself to say it, to think about it for longer than a couple of seconds. 

“Like I said, sweetheart. We’ll just leave your hair down today, nobody’ll see ‘em,” Joel says casually.

It’s unsettling, the evenness in Joel’s tone as he suggests having a normal day together, attempting to just move on as if the contusions you’re discussing aren’t a direct result of his abuse. You’ve only just woken up, and you’re already feeling the whiplash from the softness of his words in comparison to the degradation he was spitting at you last night. You wonder how much of it he even remembers, if he had really just let some entirely separate entity inside of him get “carried away”, or if it was all Joel. He couldn’t have been that good at hiding his true self from you the entire time you’ve known him, could he? What does it say about you if the signs had been there all along, and you’d either chosen to ignore them, or missed them completely? How can you ever be sure now which Joel you’re in the company of at any given time?

“Okay,” you agree, putting on a small smile that he’s quick to return. 

“Alright, we’ll get to it, then. Jus’ stay put, sweetheart, lemme bring our stuff back inside, find you somethin’ to wear.” Joel plants a whiskery kiss on your hairline before tossing the sheets aside and rising to his towering height, retrieving the key to the truck from underneath his pillow in the process. You can’t help the way your stomach flips as you watch him lumber towards the door, squeezing your thighs together under the covers at the sight of his visible morning wood bobbing in his briefs with each heavy step. You roll back onto your other side as soon as he steps over the threshold, letting the corners of your mouth drop as you curse yourself again. Is this how it’s going to be from now on? A constant battle between wanting to forget and feeling disgusted with yourself for even trying to? There has to be some way to navigate this without completely fucking loathing yourself for just trying to stay alive. 

Joel returns to the room a few minutes later with his arms and hands full of the clothing he’s chosen for both of you. He drops his boots onto the carpet with a heavy thud, but sets your own shoes down next to them with more care. He tosses a few articles of his own things onto his side of the bed before coming around to yours, holding out his free hand for you to take. “Up you go, babydoll, c’mon,” he commands. You grab hold of his steady hand, using it for support as you slide out from underneath the covers and push yourself off the mattress, the springs creaking in protest.

Joel entwines his thick fingers in yours as he leads you toward the small bathroom. You loosen your grip to shut the door behind you, expecting him to drop his handhold to allow you some privacy, but his grasp only tightens. You inhale sharply at the dull pain caused by his fingertips digging into the back of your hand, and turn to face him with panicked eyes. The stern expression you’re met with makes your heart rate quicken, terrified that you’ve already somehow found a way to upset him again.

“I just need to use the bathroom first, I’ll try to be quick,” you insist, still attempting to untangle your fingers from his.

“Not with the door closed you don’t.”

“...W-why?” You question timidly.

Joel jerks his head toward the shower, his gaze still trained on you. “That lil’ window up there. Just gotta make sure you ain’t gonna try anythin’, tha‘s all.”

You glance over to the tiny window he’s referring to, the kind that doesn’t even open all the way, just cracks open enough to let the steam out.

“But… I couldn’t even fit through there. And I… I learned my lesson, Joel, I promise—”

“Shh, don’t gotta get all worked up, ‘s alright, sweetheart. Jus’ do what I ask, okay?” Joel finally drops your hand in favor of cradling the side of your neck, brushing his thumb across the tender cartilage at the front of it. “You understand, don’t you, baby? ‘S just a precaution.” 

Joel speaks to you so gently, with such adoration in his tone and in his expression, even with the threatening placement of his hand on your throat. The blatant display of manipulation makes you dizzy. You drop your gaze from his face to the bathroom floor, and try to use the cool sensation of the tile against your bare feet to ground yourself. 

“Are you gonna watch me while I… go?” You ask meekly, your cheeks warming with embarrassment.

“No, no, sweet girl,” Joel placates, using a hooked finger to lift your head back up. “I’ll wait outside for you. Jus’ leave the door ‘bout halfway open, ‘s all I’m askin’. Besides, ain’t nothin’ I haven’t seen before, hm?” He pinches at your chin with a teasing smile, continuing to act as if everything he’s asking of you is completely ordinary. 

“Yeah, but…” You start, but Joel huffs in warning.

You concede with a sighed “Okay,” and he finally leaves you to conduct your business. You’re thankful that he at least isn’t watching you, instead just leaning his broad back against the doorframe outside the bathroom with his arms crossed. Although, you think he might’ve taken a peek when you had first sat down, in the brief moment when your oversized t-shirt was rucked up to your tummy. You go through the motions as quickly as possible so as not to prolong your mortification, practically flushing and stepping over to the sink all in one hurried movement. Joel slides himself behind you as you’re washing your hands, setting your clothing down on the back of the toilet before placing his hands on your hips. His hard length is slotted against your backside, and you do your best to ignore him as you dry your hands with the bleach-stained motel towel. He only continues to use his weight to press you harder against the edge of the sink, undeterred by your efforts, and you wince a little at the pain that begins to pulse under your ribcage.

“Lemme tell you how this is gonna be from now on, okay babydoll? Look at me,” Joel orders, and you meet his darkened eyes in the mirror where he towers above you as he continues, “You ain’t gonna do nothin’ for yourself or by yourself ever again, ‘s that clear? Nothin’. Know we had some of that before our lil’... incident… and you liked that, didn’t you, baby? Liked me takin’ care of you like that?”

You nod, because it’s true.

“You’re nothin’ but a lil’ doll to me from now on. Gonna let me dress you this mornin’, do your hair up, brush your teeth, everythin’... And when we go out today, you ain’t gonna talk to anybody, ain’t even gonna look at anybody, you understand? Nobody except for me. I’m all you got for the rest of your life. And that’s what we always wanted, ain’t it? Just each other…” He says the last part almost wistfully, letting go of your waist with one hand in favor of twisting a lock of your hair around one of his roughened fingers. “You’ll come to like livin’ like this, babydoll. Got no other choice, do you?” 

You swallow, biting your lip to stave off burning tears that you know will only upset him if you let them spill. 

“Do you?” Joel repeats.

“N-no, I don’t,” you reply, and he hums in satisfaction before rewarding you with a wet kiss to your temple that makes your skin crawl. 

“Yeah, tha‘s right… Turn around now, arms up for me, sweetheart.” Joel steps back from the sink to allow you room to obey his command, and you don’t hesitate to do so. He carefully lifts his t-shirt over your head before tossing it to the floor, and you shiver as the breeze blowing in from that one cracked window wraps itself around your naked form. Joel tuts when you wrap your arms over your pebbled nipples on instinct, gently scolding, “Nuh uh, don’t cover up what’s mine. Lemme look at ya.” He uses a light touch to guide your limbs down to your sides, whistling low as his predatory eyes roam around your trembling body, spending a few extra moments on your exposed chest. “Most gorgeous lil’ thing in the whole world… Would jus’ parade you around with me all bare like this if I could, show y’ off to everybody. Bet you’d like that, huh babydoll?” He taunts, pinching at one of your hardened buds.

“Y-yeah, I would,” you appease quietly, but he doesn’t seem to pay your unenthusiastic response any mind, too preoccupied with shimmying a new pair of panties up your legs. He takes a little too much extra care in settling them around the creases of your thighs, and huffs to himself when he notices the way your little hole squeezes around nothing at the sensation of his fingertips sliding underneath the elastic, just barely teasing your folds. Joel has you turn around to face the mirror again so he can clip your bra behind your back, and a small smile tugs at the corners of your lips despite yourself when he zips on the pretty blue dress he picked out for you. You like how it compliments your eyes, even with how tired they look.

Just like Joel had told you he would, he doesn’t allow you to do a single thing for yourself as he completes the rest of your morning routine, holding your chin securely in the dip between his thumb and forefinger as he brushes your teeth and tips a glass of water into your mouth for you to rinse out the minty paste with. He cradles the base of your skull with one hand, using the other to scrub the sleep from your eyes and the oils from your cheeks with a damp washcloth. Joel gets to work on your hair next, pulling the top half of it into two small ponytails and tying each of them off neatly with ivory-colored ribbons. You’re surprised at the delicate movements his hands are capable of despite their size, despite the damage they’ve caused. He’s clearly had some practice with this, but you try not to think about it too hard.

Once Joel deems his doll pretty and presentable, he leads you out of the bathroom and has you sit on the edge of the bed, kneeling before you with some protest from his aching joints. He slips a pair of lace-trimmed socks over your feet, one at a time, followed by the same canvas sneakers you were wearing when you had first met him. The sight of them brings you a little comfort, somehow, the discolored laces and smudged rubber soles making up just about the only familiar things you have in your possession anymore. Nearly everything you own, everything about you, has been tainted by Joel in some way now. You should’ve just taken off in the other direction when he’d pulled over his truck, left nothing but a cloud of dust in your wake and never even have given him the chance to ask you in that stupid disarming Southern twang of his if you needed a ride, if you were lost, if you had family or a boyfriend who cared about you enough to come looking for you. You’d advertised yourself in big bold lettering that you were the perfect fucking victim, practically wrapping the rope around your white woolen neck yourself so he could lead you to slaughter. This is what you deserve, stupid lamb that you are. Look at you now.

Joel instructs you to stay perched on the bed while he completes his own morning regimen, and you hang your head low as you rest your hands in your lap, picking at the skin around your fingernails. They’re practically raw now, but you can’t stop even though you should, even though it hurts, even though you’ve made yourself bleed. It had always been a nervous habit of yours, and you hadn’t noticed until you started up again last night that this was probably the nicest your nail beds had looked in years. You’d felt so comforted, so safe with Joel that you hadn’t had a reason to continue the self-destructive behavior, until all those fluttery feelings were ripped out from under you in a second. You’d been biting and tearing at your skin all night in addition to the many other things you’d been doing instead of sleeping, the habit having returned with a force as you’d used the pain to… what? To make up for the lack of blood you’d shed, to apologize to the ghosts of Anna and Elizabeth and Ruby and ask them please not to haunt you, you’re sorry, you’re sorry, you’re sorry. See? He’d made you bleed, too.

You’ve been attempting to balance your attention between your hands and the bathroom, waiting for an opportunity to arise where Joel is distracted enough for you to retrieve the envelope from its hiding place without him seeing. You keep your chin close to your chest as you observe his movements, trying not to make it too obvious that you’re watching him. After a few minutes, he finally bows his head into the sink to splash some water onto his skin, and you quickly reach behind you to swipe the letter and shove it underneath the waistband of your panties. Joel still hasn’t lifted his head back up by the time you’ve got it situated, and the corner of your mouth twitches in satisfaction. For a plan that you’re basically just making up as you go along, it’s going better than you expected. 

You return to your preoccupation with your hands as you wait for Joel to finish up, and you remain hunched over yourself even as he flicks off the bathroom light and stalks over to where you’re now sucking the taste of bitter iron from one of your fingers. He startles you out of your focused state when he asks, “What’re you doin’, babydoll?”

You lift your head up, releasing the smarted skin from your mouth as you hold out your hand to examine the injury. Both of you watch a little crimson pearl begin to swell in the groove where your nail disappears into the skin. “Oh…” Joel sighs, grabbing your hand gently and raising it closer to his face, turning it this way and that to admire how your blood catches the light. You swear you can see his pupils dilate before he sucks your finger into his own mouth, swirling his tongue around your skin as he savors the metallic tang mixed with the remnants of your saliva. You feel the sharp edge of his teeth graze the pad of your finger, and your breath catches as you fear he might just bite the thing clean off from the last knuckle down. He doesn’t, of course, just lets his eyelids quiver and his cock twitch before releasing the digit from his mouth and rumbling out a quiet growl. You can’t help the somewhat sickened expression that overtakes your features as you watch Joel’s perverted little display, but work to fix it into something more neutral as he opens his eyes again.

“Pretty sure I got some bandaids in the truck, lemme get dressed ‘n then we’ll hit the road, hm?” he says, in a tone too casual to belong to someone who’d just had a near orgasmic reaction to tasting your blood. You suppose this is just another consequence of your survival—having to endure Joel’s unconcealed freakish tendencies now that he knows you’re not a flight risk anymore.

Joel tugs on his standard uniform—his thick canvas jacket layered overtop a simple undershirt and earth-toned flannel, paired with tattered jeans and his sturdy leather work boots. You allow him to help you to your feet as he leads you out to the truck, his thick fingers laced tightly through the ones of your non-bloodied hand. You have to squint at how bright the late morning sky is, your eyes aching as they adjust from the dim lighting of the motel room. 

“Hey, morning!” Comes a cheery voice from down the row. You turn your head in the direction of the sound, and put your hand up to shield your eyes from the sun in an effort to get a better view of the person it came from. When your gaze finally focuses, you’re able to make out a feminine figure with auburn hair and alabaster skin, her slender arm waving at you in greeting—Chrissy.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

You dip behind Joel, attempting to hide yourself from her view. He puts a protective hand across your body, and takes the lead in responding to her. “...Mornin’. Can we help you with somethin’?”

Her footsteps pause on the pavement, and there’s a beat before she says anything else, likely not expecting Joel’s less-than-friendly response to her sunny demeanor. “...No. Well, I just wanted to say ‘hi’, check in on you—Both of you,” she corrects herself quickly. You’re staring straight down at the sidewalk, avoiding eye contact just like Joel had demanded of you. But you can still see her out of the corner of your vision, attempting to lean around Joel’s large form to get a better look at you. You feel like your heart is about to burst out of your fucking ribcage as Joel turns his head toward where you’re cowering behind his arm, then slowly back to Chrissy. 

“We’re fine,” he says plainly. 

The silence that follows feels like it lasts an eternity. You hate how weak you must look in front of her, practically shaking where you stand like a newborn fawn while you seek the protection of this much older man whose hands, Chrissy must notice, are large enough to have created the marks on your neck that she had pointed out last night. It doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together, to figure out the reason—the person—behind your flighty, nervous, and fidgety behavior in the office. Chrissy takes a few steps backwards, away from this strange couple standing before her, one she realizes is in her best interest not to engage further with.

Her voice comes out noticeably more unsteady now than it did when she had first approached you. “W-well, I just like to say ‘hi’ to guests on my way out if I see them. So… ‘hi’, and, um… if you need anything, someone else will be here soon to cover the office.” She rushes through the latter part of her sentence, like she just wants to spit all the words out as quickly as possible so that the interaction can be over with. You can’t see his face, but you suspect Joel is giving her some kind of hooded-eyed look that’s making her stumble over her words. “Have a good day, you two. Be careful,” she adds before she departs, and you know that those last two words were meant for you.

Joel watches her as she disappears around the corner of the building, only lowering his arm once she’s completely out of sight. You don’t look up until the sounds of her footsteps dissipate, until Joel’s arm is on your lower back as he ushers you into the truck. 

“Get in, baby,” he commands, opening the door for you and helping you up into the passenger side of the bench seat. He reaches across your body to buckle your seatbelt for you before you can even lift your hand to do it yourself.

Once you’re situated to his liking, Joel closes your door and makes his way over to the driver’s seat, climbing inside and igniting the rumbling engine. He roots around in the truck’s center console, tossing aside cigarette butts and gum wrappers and loose change, eventually coming up with a single bandaid. Its paper sleeve looks crumpled and neglected, and you suppose it’s because he’s never really had a use for it until now. There isn’t much of a point in trying to bandage the type of wounds he typically inflicts, anyway, the damage already having been done.

“Gimme your hand, darlin’, hold it still for me.” Joel tears open the wrapper with his calloused thumbs and flicks away the little paper tabs from the fabric’s sticky surface, wrapping the bandaid around your finger tenderly. It would be a sweet moment, if it weren’t for the way he adjusts himself upon seeing the deep red droplet bloom on the other side of the little cotton pad. You make a mental note to work on finding a different self-soothing mechanism, lest you want to wake up in the middle of the night with his knife at your neck and his cock in his hand, deciding that you weren’t worth keeping around after all, that he just had to know if you really are just as pretty on the inside as you are on the outside, to know if the rest of your volume tastes as sweet as the small sample he’d already taken. 

You sit on your hands the entire ride into town.

—

The drive was mostly silent, but actually kind of pleasant, finally giving you a real opportunity to take in the vast surroundings of… wherever you are, New Mexico. Your hands had gotten uncomfortably warm where they were squished under the bare skin of your legs for the entire half-hour or so drive, but you didn’t dare remove them. You’d have had nowhere else to put them anyway, not with the way Joel’s large paw was clamped onto your upper thigh, his pinky finger slipping underneath the hem of your dress and tracing the edge of your panties. You were grateful you’d had enough forethought to slip the envelope into the right side of your underwear, predicting that he’d get handsy like this in the truck. You’d just kept your body perfectly rigid with your head turned away from him, and tried not to descend into madness thinking about what he had made of your interaction with Chrissy earlier, if he suspected anything, if he knew you were hiding something, if he suddenly developed x-ray vision overnight and knew exactly what you were concealing under your dress.

Relief washed over your nervous system as you’d observed jagged rockwork and ochre-colored scrub brush gradually turn into modest Pueblo-style homes and businesses, glad to have finally been granted an opportunity to escape the motel after your twelve hours of terror. The steadily approaching signs of civilization had served as a reminder that the world does actually have other people in it besides you and Joel, despite what he’s been attempting to convince you of.

The town had become more populated the further the truck had chugged along down the main street, with a few friendly-looking people walking their dogs and carrying paper grocery bags as they strolled along the storefronts. You had even found yourself staring at a group of girls around your age sipping their coffees together on a bench, giggling and gossiping and making you wish you had problems as superficial as theirs. They reminded you of the type of girl Ruby was, bright-eyed and carefree and beautiful, and you’d tried to swallow down the bitter resentment that had begun to simmer in the pit of your stomach. Joel hadn’t even seemed to notice the girls as the truck passed them by, and you weren’t sure if his disinterest should make you feel satisfied or hopeless. Yesterday, you would’ve told yourself that you’re the love of his life, of course he wouldn’t dare have eyes for anyone but you, he’ll never leave your side for the rest of his life. But the sentiment takes on a much different connotation today, feeling more like a life sentence than a daydream.

You hadn’t realized how hungry you were until the truck had finally rolled to a stop outside of a quaint little restaurant, its terracotta awning decorated in twinkling lights. The sign on the facade read The Coyote Café, and had a little silhouette of the namesake animal painted next to the words. You could see through the turquoise-trimmed windows that there were already a handful of other patrons inside enjoying their meals, and it made you feel a little safer, knowing that Joel would be more motivated to put his mask back on in front of so many pairs of eyes. In a town this small, the two of you probably stick out like a sore thumb enough as it is, the café seeming like the kind of place where the waitresses know the regulars by name. You were eager to finally be able to drop your defenses, at least for a little while.

Joel had chosen a table all the way in the back corner of the place, furthest from the door, and had insisted on the both of you sharing the same side of the booth. Although you could feel a few stares on you, you’d remained steadfast in your obedience of the rules he had laid out for you this morning, and kept your head down while he placed your orders with the waitress—a plate of enchiladas and a beer for him, and a cheese quesadilla with a glass of water for you. You probably would’ve been able to eat more, but you suspected that his choice of meal for you was deliberate, so as not to provide you with too much energy that you might use to make another break for it. It had reminded you of the way he had convinced you to take your coffee decaf at Moody’s that night, all of it seeming so fucking obvious now, in hindsight. 

“You know somethin’, babydoll?” Joel suddenly asks through a mouthful of beans and rice. “Think I saw a lil’ consignment shop just down the way. Whaddya say we head on over there next, let you pick out somethin’ pretty for yourself since you been so good today, hm?”

You hadn’t exchanged many words as you’d been eating, other than the occasional semi-awkward comment about how nice the weather is or how good your meals are. Ordinarily, you’d be making up stories about the interesting-looking strangers sitting at the counter, or quizzing each other on the country songs playing over the radio, or debating whether the color of his flannel was really green or brown. You’d sometimes hang out at diners so late into the evening that the waitstaff would have to kick you out, and you’d be apologetic as you made your way back out to the truck, hardly able to believe how much time you’d lost track of while you were flicking wadded up straw wrappers at each other or taste testing each other’s desserts. You mourn the version of Joel in those memories as you push around the crumbs on your plate, quietly responding to him with, “Really? You’d let me?”

“‘Course I would, sweet girl.” He wipes the corners of his mouth with a napkin before lowering his voice, leaning down closer to your ear. “Long as you let me take it off of ya later tonight.”

“Let me.” As if you have any other choice.

Joel chuckles at his own crude comment as he slings an arm around your shoulder, pulling you flush to his side. He finishes the rest of his meal with one hand while he rakes the other along your upper arm, occasionally sliding a finger underneath your bra strap and snapping it against your skin. You’re only able to let your posture relax for just a moment when the waitress brings around the check, and he finally removes his scalding hand in order to retrieve his wallet from his back pocket. He slaps a few crumpled bills onto the table, and then his thick fingers are forcing themselves in between your own smaller ones as he pulls you up from the booth and leads you out of the café. You spare a glance at the motherly-looking waitress on your way out, and you exchange sympathetic looks with each other behind Joel’s back. You wish she didn’t look so sorry for you, like you’re a wounded animal being dragged around by the hunter who shot an arrow through your heart. But isn’t that what you are?

Your feet stop dead in their tracks when you step down onto the sidewalk outside the cafe, your brain too enamored with the landscape of the surrounding valley to tell them to keep moving. The wide open sky and limestone hills dappled with towering evergreens almost look like a painting, the way the mountains turn paler shades of blue-green as they extend further into the distance. It’s so unlike the flat, beige midwestern states where you and Joel had begun your journey together, it almost takes your breath away.

“You just gonna stare up at the sky all day, or d’you wanna get to shoppin’, hm?” Joel says, startling you from your state of wonder.

“Oh, no, we can go. I’m sorry,” you submit, hurrying to Joel’s side. He makes an enamored little hum and kisses the top of your head before continuing to pull you along the storefronts. You keep your head down, counting the cracks in the pavement as you work to keep up with his long strides. 

“See that buildin’ down there, the one with the pink siding? Tha’s the lil’ clothin’ store I was talkin’ about.” You flick your eyes upward to where Joel is pointing a lazy finger, immediately spying the technicolor little shop he’s referring to. The unusual choice in paint color is certainly eye catching, but what you’re really drawn to is the dark blue metal receptacle standing on the sidewalk just in front of it—a mailbox, just like Chrissy told you there would be.

This is it. This is your chance. When you get up to the mailbox, you’ll improvise a way to direct Joel’s attention elsewhere, and use the opportunity to slip the envelope from under your dress and deposit it into the box without him noticing. You’ll have to move quickly, precisely, quietly, or it’s all over. 

You should start tugging it loose now, so that it’ll be halfway in your hand already by the time you reach the store. You pat your hand against your upper thigh, expecting to feel the paper crinkling against your skin.

Except, you don’t. You can’t feel it. It isn’t there anymore. 

You feel panic start to bloom in your chest, but try your best to keep your cool. The mailbox is only a few paces away now, and you’ll have nothing to deposit into the slot, because your chance at preventing yourself from being completely forgotten by the one person in your life who might actually care, is gone. Vanished.

Where the fuck is it? Had it fallen out when you were exiting the truck? Is it laying on the floor of the cab for Joel to discover when he helps you back into your seat later? Where could it possibly have—

“Hey, excuse me! Mister?” A young-sounding voice—male, unfamiliar— shouts from behind you, followed by the sound of jogging footsteps. Joel turns around, your hand still held securely in his own. Your feet stay planted exactly where they are, your eyes unblinking and locked onto the mailbox, just barely out of reach. “Did one of you drop this? Found it on the floor by your table when I was cleaning up, didn’t want you to leave it behind.”

“Uh… don’t think so. Lemme take a look—” Your arm pulls in an uncomfortable direction as Joel reaches toward the boy to retrieve the mystery object. Well, it’s a mystery to him, you already know exactly what it is. All you can do is hold your breath while Joel undoubtedly reads your handwriting on the front of the envelope, hoping that if you stand perfectly still, you might really be able to disappear. Without the letter, that’s the ending you’re destined for now, anyway.

Joel laughs breathily. “Y’know what, son? Think we did drop this. Thank you kindly for bringin’ it back to us.” Joel squeezes your hand so hard you think all the fragile little bones might shatter, and you bite your lip to stifle a pained whimper. Your eyes start to water as the crippling fear you had felt last night begins to climb its way up the back of your throat, and you wonder if this bus boy in the middle of nowhere, New Mexico, might just become the last person besides Joel to see you alive. Or at least, the back of your head. Without giving him a good look at your face, he wouldn’t even be able to recognize you when they show your picture on the news a day or two from now, or be able to go to the police and tell them that this lumberjack-looking older man he encountered was the one he saw you with last. You should’ve known better than to try tempting fate again. 

“Of course! Have a good one,” says the bus boy, and a tear escapes your waterline as you wait for the sounds of his footsteps to fade. You can’t be sure if the wetness collecting on your lashes is from the pain of Joel’s iron grip on your hand, or from the sheer terror of being found out by him again. What you do know, is that he doesn’t seem like the type to let you go through all three strikes before he puts you out.

“We will,” Joel responds, but only loud enough for you to hear.

He turns back around after what feels like an eternity, sighing disappointedly. You don’t need to look at him to know that he's upset, angry, furious. It radiates off his skin, penetrates your soul, wraps itself tightly around your throat in replacement of his hands. Your palm is sweating, but he doesn’t let go, just digs his dull nails into the back of your hand as he snarls a one-worded command close to your ear—”Walk.”

Joel drags you the rest of the way to the mailbox, shoving you down onto the wooden bench just beside it. You’re surprised that whatever it is he’s about to do to you, he’s confident enough to do it in broad daylight, in front of a few dozen potential witnesses. You keep your eyes on the ground, waiting to hear the flick of his pocket knife or the cracking of his knuckles, but all that comes is a tired groan as he kneels before you, lifting your chin up to face him. 

Joel wags the envelope in front of your face with his other hand, looking at you with a more pitied expression than an enraged one. “You wanna tell me what this is, babydoll?” He asks in a confusingly even tone. You search his eyes for the reddish hue they had become last night when he was spewing obscenities at you and threatening your life, but you don’t find it. 

“It’s… it’s a letter,” you admit, blinking away tears. You avoid his gaze even with your chin raised, looking around at the townspeople to see if any of them are staring at the little scene the two of you are putting on. 

“Don’t look at them, baby, look at me. They ain’t gonna help you.” Joel jostles your face in his grip, and you flick your eyes back to him immediately. “I can see that it’s a letter, sweetheart. Who were you plannin’ on sendin’ it to, hm? Whose name is this?” Joel prompts, using his thumb to tap the name and address you had scribbled onto the center of the paper.

You let out a sob, the patronizing tone of his questioning making you feel so fucking stupid with just a few words. How is he so fucking good at this? At breaking you down, spinning the effects of his own actions back onto you, making you feel like the one in the wrong.

“My mom, I… I wrote it to my mom,” you reply through little sniffles, and you can hardly stand the exaggeratedly sympathetic way that Joel’s eyebrows peak at your answer.

“Babydoll… What could you possibly have to say to her? You ‘n I both know she don’t care about you anymore, never did. She’d open this up and just throw it right in the trash… I mean—” Joel releases your chin from his hold in order to slide his thumb along the envelope’s seal, tearing open the flap and removing the page of motel stationery you had written your plea on in the dim lighting of the office. “Here, sweetheart. Why don’t you read it to me, lemme hear what you wanted to tell her so badly you decided to do it behind my back. You snuck outta bed last night to do this, I assume?”

You nod, taking the letter from his hand and unfolding it.

“Hm… Have to do somethin’ else about our sleepin’ arrangements from now on, then.” You don’t know what he means by that, and you aren’t looking forward to finding out. “Read it to me, darlin’, go ‘head.”

You take a deep breath, blinking hard as you try to get your watery eyes to focus on the page. “I s-said that, um… that I was sorry for leaving, that I don’t blame her for the way she treated me growing up.” You pause to swallow the moisture collecting in the back of your throat as you cry, and attempt to steady your wavering voice before you continue. “A-and… that I was with you, that we’ve been traveling together, but… But I got scared, and I w-wanted her to come get me. Um… ‘Please don’t forget about me. I love you. I’ll see you when you get here.’ That’s the last thing I said.” You set the letter down on your lap and collapse in on yourself, burying your wet face in your hands as your sobs become full force.

“Oh, babydoll…” Joel soothes, rubbing a hand up and down your arm as you cry. “Where did you get all these ridiculous ideas, hm? Sayin’ that you love her, that you forgive her? I mean, do you really believe she’d come lookin’ for you all the way out here, snatch you up and take you home ‘cause she cares so much about you?” “I… I don’t know, maybe. I just couldn’t sleep last night, I got so afraid of—” “That girl in the parkin’ lot this mornin’... it was her, wasn’t it? You moseyed on into the office lookin’ all pitiful last night and she talked you into doin’ this? She took advantage of you, baby?” Joel brushes a stray lock of hair behind your ear, his face contorted in dramatic concern.

You’re so caught off guard by his accusations, your shuddering body finally stills. You lift your head up from your hands, wiping your eyes on the backs of them. “...What?”

“I mean, I know you know better than this, so it must’ve been her, puttin’ all these nonsense ideas into your head, convincin’ you to do somethin’ that’d only get you hurt… She don’t know what’s good for you like I do, baby. What was gonna happen when you sent off your lil’ letter, and you waited ‘n waited ‘n waited, and your mama never came for you? Who’d be there to take care of you, hm? Me. Always gonna be me.” Joel gently swipes his thumbs underneath your eyes, collecting the salty dampness still there. He sounds so sure of his own words, they’re almost convincing you that you’re misremembering your encounter with Chrissy last night. It was late, you were exhausted, and Joel is right, you do know better, you’ve told him yourself. Had she done more than just provide you with the envelope and stamp? Was the idea in your head before you walked into the office, or had she somehow persuaded you of it without you being any wiser? You’d remember if Joel’s version of the story is the one that really happened, wouldn’t you?

“No, Joel, she didn’t—” you start, but he cuts you off swiftly.

“She did, baby, I think she did… Poor girl, must’ve been too out of it to even remember what really happened. D’you see now? This is why it’s gotta be just you ‘n me from now on, sweetheart. ‘Cause there’s all kinds of people out there like her who wanna get inside your head, convince you of things that ain’t true…”

As undeserving as Chrissy may or may not be of the blame for your childish endeavor, you feel relieved that your most recent act of defiance doesn’t seem to have the same effect on Joel as the one you attempted last night. He seems more… sorry for you, than anything else, and you aren’t quite sure why he seems to feel differently now than he did a mere twelve hours ago. Maybe he views it as proof of your loyalty, the fact that you had made it outside, gotten yourself a small taste of freedom, and still decided to crawl back into bed with him afterwards. You could’ve taken off running down the road if you’d really wanted to, his “insurance policies” be damned, but you didn’t. You stayed. And you hate what that says about you—that you’re fucking weak. But you’ll take “weak” over “dead”, at this point.

You decide to poke the bear a little bit, just to confirm if you’re in the clear the way you seem to be. “So… you’re not upset?” 

“No, no, I ain’t upset with you, baby. But this is why you can’t do things without me no more, okay? Can’t trust nobody out there except for me, can you?”

You pause, then shake your head at him.

“Good, good girl… Y’know what, baby? Here—” Joel reaches into the pocket of his jacket, and pulls out a tarnished silver lighter. “Why don’t we just forget about all this, huh? Forget about your mama, that girl back at the motel… All those people who don’t care about you the way I do.” He places the cool metal object in your hand and closes your fingers around it. 

“You… want me to burn it?”

Joel shrugs, quirking his mouth into a pout. “Don’t see why you’d wanna keep it… Ain’t goin’ anywhere, is it?”

“...No, guess not,” You mumble under your breath. You know what this means, what it symbolizes, why he wants you to do it yourself. So you can bear witness to your one last glimmer of hope dissolving into embers and ash on the sidewalk at your feet, so you can understand that there is no other outcome other than the one Joel had predetermined for you the second you had agreed to let him take you to Moody’s that night. There is no way out. There is submitting to him, and there is death. Take your pick.

You flick open the lighter, raise the flame to the paper, and watch it ignite. It only takes a few seconds before you feel the heat begin to lick at your fingers, and you drop the still-burning remainder of the letter onto the pavement below so as to spare your hands any further injury today. It curls in on itself and crumples as it chars, and the two of you stare at it until it’s nothing more than a smoldering pile of cinders. You swear you can see an amused smile tug at the corners of Joel’s lips in the edge of your vision.

“Don’t that feel better, baby? Finally lettin’ go of her?” he asks, taking the lighter from your hands and shoving it back into his pocket, along with the envelope. 

You sniffle once, shrugging. “A little.”

“I know, sweet girl. It will, in time. You’ll understand sooner or later.” Joel groans as he pushes himself back up from his kneeling position, then extends a hand down for you to take. He helps you stand, then adjusts your hair to sit nicely over your bruises again, before placing his hands on your shoulders. “Now, that red-headed girl… Did you get her name, sweetheart?”

“...Chrissy. Her name was Chrissy,” you answer hesitantly, the intonation of your response sounding more like a question.

“Chrissy…” Joel repeats, letting her name settle on his tongue. “Whaddya say we just head on back, see about payin’ Chrissy a lil’ visit, hm?” He retakes your hand in his, then starts in the direction of the truck.

Your heart sinks into your stomach, realizing the hidden meaning of his words. “Jus’ gotta bring ‘em to me, tha’s all. Maybe go after ‘em if they try to run,” Joel had rasped into your ear last night, when he was describing the role you’d be forced to play in continuing his sick habit. 

“W-what? Why? She won’t be there anymore, remember? She said she was leaving, that somebody else would be working in the office for the day,” you frantically remind him, hoping that she can be spared after all, hoping that you can be spared from your first time acting as bait.

Joel stops walking for a moment as he considers your words, then pulls you along with him again. “Pay a visit to whoever’s workin’ in there, then. See if they know where she might be.” He doesn’t look at you as he speaks, just stares straight ahead as he hones in on the truck like a missile. The overly concerned facade he had put on earlier seems to be faded now, replaced with something more akin to bloodthirsty determination.

You scrape the far corners of your mind for something, anything you could say to him that might talk him out of this. “But… I thought you said she took advantage of me? Why would you want to see her if you think she tried to hurt me?”

A muscle in Joel’s jaw ticks. His nostrils flare.

“You know why.”

tag list: @beefrobeefcal @iamasaddie @rebel-held @dilfgestivo @joeldjarin @kamcrazy123 @hellowoolf @rexamongthestars @stevie75 @luxurychristmaspudding @noisynightmarepoetry @mewantpeepaw @pedritoferg @alex-does-art-things @evolnoomym @annoyingmarvelreader @joelsdagger @natalieispunk @mermaidgirl30 @untamedheart81 @galway-girlatwork @pinkiec6-rubi @wand-erer5 @arminsbf @shivispunk @gigistorm @theoreticalfreak @vinceelser @always-andromeda @path0logicalpeoplepleaser @old-logan-and-old-joels-slut @zliteraturehoe @k1l4ni @hjzghi-blog @xkyxkyxxlylcylulucuflfluclu @kay1805 (if your name is crossed out, it won’t let me tag you!!)

[deathbxnny]

Currently in a cfs/me flare up after losing my mind over the Arcane finale (lmao), and it’s been making me think about the characters keeping company to an exhausted & feverish reader. You can choose if you want to make it chronic illness related or more general, I’m just interested how you’d write them in a situation like that 🐁💖 Would love to see Vi, Caitlyn, and Viktor (pre-robojesus) if that’s okay :)) Both platonic and romantic are fine to me too!

Just wanted to add to the end that I loved your Timekeeper fic so much <3 Thank you for writing my request, it actually made me roll around my bed in joy :”D I hope days start getting better for you soon, stay safe 💖💖

Arcane characters with a chronically ill s/o. | Viktor, Caitlyn, Vi x Gn!Reader

Hey there, Anon! Sorry that it took so long to get to your request, but I hope you're doing better now! Im so glad to hear that you liked my last post too!<3

Content: Vague chronical illness, slight angst, fluff, can be read as platonic or romantic tbh, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns.

((Not proofread))

》VIKTOR

He knows what it's like to deal with a chronical illness and, therefore, is the best prepared out of the three.

Viktor always has an eye on you and practically studied what makes your sickness get worse. He sees the patterns and tries his best to quickly get you out of situations that could provoke them.

Sometimes, he feels guilty that he isn't able to do more to help you, especially when he, too, is suffering. He appreciates your presence because of that, since you're a comfort to him and someone who understands how he feels. You spend a lot of time together, perhaps even cuddled up during darker days, just not to not feel alone.

He definitely makes your room extra comfortable whenever your flare-ups return. Viktor will get you your favorite food or drink and just sit by your bed until you feel a bit better.

Absolutely works in your room whilst you're laying sick in bed, as he's worried you may get worse in his absence. This indirectly also gets him out of the laboratory often, which does him way more good than he may realise.

All in all, he's the best person to have around when dealing with a difficult chronical illness.

》CAITLYN

She's hellbent on finding a cure one way or another. Cait is stubborn and doesn't take no for an answer. To her, even the impossible may become possible if she works hard enough. So expect the best doctors in Piltover to fuss over you at all times.

She might come off as overbearing at times, mainly because she's extremely worried about your health. Seeing you sick and exhausted all the time hurt her.

Definitely spoils you with anything and everything you want in hopes of distracting you from the pain you were in, even if it's just momentarily.

Tries taking walks with you at times, even if they are short and quick. She thinks that fresh air is good for your health and that you appreciate the time you spend together that way.

If you're feeling lonely, she'll lay in bed with you and speak with you about random topics, anything that comes to mind. She'll definitely also talk about work and the missions she went on.

She may not be able to relate to you, but she'll educate herself on everything regarding your health and illness in the hope of making life easier for you.

》VI

She feels helpless at times. She really does, and it hurts to see you hurt. Unable to really help or find a potential cure/doctor to make things easier, she becomes a little creative with the way she deals with it.

Vi is extremely overprotective and doesn't let you do much on your own. Expect her to do absolutely all the heavy lifting and some of the harder household chores, just so that you don't have to exhaust yourself even more.

Tries making your days better by thinking of fun and accessible things to do. She wants to distract you from the pain and give you a semi-normal life, as she believes you deserve at least that.

Longgg cuddle sessions in which you just talk and laugh. It's the best way to wind down during a flare-up. It also helps with any loneliness you may feel.

She tries using her connections with Cait and so on to get you some help when things get seriously bad. She's terrified of losing you and can't bear the thought of it. It keeps her up at night.

Every day may be a new challenge, but she'll never give up on you, that's for sure.

[genshin-obsessed]

Could I request Neuvillette and Wriothesley finding out their s/o makes the Melusines (including Sigewinne) cute plushies and clothes?

So I’ve recently gotten into crocheting and knitting and omg like I would do this! I would love to do this ;w; GIMME A MELUSINE-

✧ Neuvillette ✧

Ugh his heart. It can’t take it.

He’ll just be working at his desk and a melusine will come in to talk to him about something. And he’ll just see it. That wasn't the first time either, it's like every other melusine friend of his!

A cute little stuffie or a scarf, maybe a sweater, potentially socks, a bookmark, something. It was kinda weird because they just start popping up one day. Like, they didn't have any and then suddenly they all had something.

He knows exactly who made it, his beloved. You love spoiling the melusines rotten with your yarn crafts. He honestly loves to watch you work.

Neuvillette loves to buy you yarn because he knows you’ll make them something. He's never disappointed because you always end up making the most creative things. Where do you keep getting these ideas????

You’ll even make him something. He keeps every last creation. Never lost a single one over the years.

✧ Wriothesley ✧

He didn't know you made things? Like he knew you were creative, don't get him wrong and he'd seen you around with lots of knitted items. But he didn't know you made them.

One day, Sigewinne came in and she had the cutest little hat on her head. He had to ask. So she was all like "oh! (y/n) made it for me!" He was a little shocked.

He asked you, you explained, and he was just so interested! Since then, he likes to watch you work. You even made him a little tea cup and a tea bag book mark and he loves them so much.

He makes sure his desk is always dust free, they look super clean and brand new.

You've made him things like gloves, even went out of your way to make him a whole ass jacket. The man could wear everything you made him so proudly. Please never stop.

He will happily fund the supplies needed. You just tell him what you need and just be a teeny bit patient, like a couple days, and you'll have it. He tells everyone too.

[vonlycaonwife]

Omg i love eeevvverryy thing about ur writing so could you pleassee please (if you want to ofc ♡) write some headcanons with lighter, lycaon, seth + whoever you want! where reader loves teasing them? like yknow when you have a crush on someone and you're always like playfully hating on them? like "damn u missed that, u suck!"

I honestly had a bit of trouble writing this because I was having trouble if what you meant was mainly teasing or not? So I may have ended up with that tonaly in my writing just a heads up!

Warnings: semi suggestive with Jane's

Honestly with Lycaon it's a mixed bag?

Like depending on the scene he either shuts it down, like when working for example, or plays off of it expertly, which I can imagine is when he's specifically not working.

So I would just suggest being cautious and know when it's appropriate to do that.

But! To expand on what I said earlier about him playing off of your teasing. I can imagine if you're smaller than him, he would just use his larger frame to tease you back.

In a romantic context he would just lean over and, if no one is around to see, pin you against a wall. He wouldn't do anything, just look down at you until you got too flustered to say more.

Though in a more platonic setting the most he would do is most likely pick you up and walk around with you over his shoulders, because that's the easiest way to shut you up.

With Seth I feel like he would take it to heart too much? Like don't get me wrong, I'm sure he can read the tone perfectly and know you're just teasing.

But something is just telling me that in his brain, his logic is a sort of “why say something potentially hurtful even if in a playful manner?” 

To reiterate, he knows it's all in good fun, but I can see him with this blank face processing your teasing for a moment before playfully rolling his eyes as he tries to brush it off. Sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn't.

He wouldn't really mention when it starts to bother him, mainly because he knows that's just how some people interact. 

Though I'm sure you would know when to quit it if you do notice it bothering him.

Oh this girl eats. It. Up!

She's absolutely playing along with your game and even playing dirty tactics like physical teasing.

Doesn't matter if you're in a romantic or platonic relationship with her, she teases everyone with her lithe fingers. You'd expect her to go easy on you? Ha! She wouldn't play fair like that. 

The only reason she would is if you are uncomfortable with physical touch in all honesty, but then that just lets her be more creative with other forms of teasing.

For example, using her own good looks. I mean, we can all admit she's hot right? (Lord I would let her do so much-) And she knows this, so I can see her “innocently” doing some things as she's in a tease war with you.

Like taking her jacket off, or repositioning her crossed legs. Honestly she could do it in such a subtle way you wouldn't even think she's doing it on purpose until later.

Honestly she's having a lot of fun with this, probably more fun than you are. (I salute you soldier)

I feel like Lighter is somehow a combination of everyone above?? Don't ask me how exactly it just feels right.

Like I can see him only acknowledging it when on downtime, but also thinking similarly to Seth in terms of “I don't get it but I know it's not actually insulting me”. But also instead of brushing it off he plays off of it like Jane, though less suggestive.

I mean it would work with his whole cool guy persona, playing off of someone lightly teasing him and dishing it back out.

I can just see the shit eating grin he has when he's doing a back and forth. He wouldn't be as good at it as Jane with his own teasing, but I can see him going the more goofy route.

Like exaggerating the ‘coolness’ with almost cringey phrases, but not too cringey to kill his reputation if overheard, and maybe even flexing his muscles if you're into that. (I am)

[hometoursandotherstuff]

I can't believe that I just found one of my all-time favorite houses still on the market. I love this 1889 Gothic Victorian in Milwaukee, WI. 3bds, 2.5ba, 2,869 sq ft, $415k. It's been so lovingly cared for w/just the right dash of funkiness. It's perfect. Take a look at it, if you haven't seen it before, you're gonna fall in love with it.

Aren't the entrance doors and porch grand? And, they're in such good condition. Look at the original light fixture.

Perfect original railings, stick floor, and a cheery peachy wall color.

The sitting room has a lovely corner fireplace and pocket doors.

Isn't this amazing? There are rotating windows up there on the next floor. What a great 2 story living room with a soaring fireplace. And, that's a curved arch ceiling, too, with a medieval chandelier.

I love that they kept the original floors. This room could be another sitting room or whatever. It would make a fabulous plant room or art studio.

I love what they did with the kitchen. Look at how adorable it is. They made the baker's rack out of pipes, and the island is an industrial salvage piece. You can also see the way they made a bathroom sink, on the left.

LOVE the mismatched cabinets and the worn counter.

Look at the industrial piece that they fitted the ovens into. How cool is that? My favorite thing is the lighting- See what they did? Every fixture is subtly different, yet matching. I love this house so much, I could cry.

This home is soooo creative. Look at the tall cabinet next to the fridge, made from 2 different ones. And, the stove top has a wood counter and shelf around it.

Back door to the yard.

Here's that vintage powder room off the kitchen. Such creative elements and a pocket door.

They made this table with what looks like bricks or wooden blocks and topped it with a piece of glass. The owners are so clever, and this is a lovely dining room.

Check out the primary bedroom suite.

I don't know if they knocked the wall down to make a bath, or if it was an alcove, but I love how they made it look industrial, like an old gothic factory.

On this floor, they have a separate apt. with a bedroom, laundry and kitchen.

Recognize the rotating window from down in the sitting room?

Look at this big bath. They sure made the bathrooms spacious.

There's a finished attic with another bath.

Nice clean basement has potential and the heating unit looks new.

Lovely fenced in patio and gardens.

There's also a side garden. It's a lot of house for under $450k.

4,791 sq ft lot and there's a nice park nearby. The new Zillow listing didn't show the photos that I recalled, but I found them.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/3402-W-Saint-Paul-Ave-Milwaukee-WI-53208/40470662_zpid/

[sirfrogsworth]

I had no idea you're a professional photographer! I mostly follow your other blog for Corgis - if you posted your work there and I missed it, I apologize.

Your photography is AMAZING and thank you for sharing tips on light!

Bonus if you have time: when did you develop (haha!) interest for it and what's your favorite thing about this medium? ☆

Thank you. I have been trying to go back to my older work and edit things with my current skills and I have been posting that on occasion.

I also have an Instagram which is sort of like my current portfolio until I have the energy to create a proper website.

It's funny you mention corgis because Otis was the reason I got a proper camera. My followers helped me raise the money to get him and I felt like he belonged to everyone. So I wanted to make sure I took lots of photos of his shenanigans for people to enjoy. If they couldn't have a corgi of their own, I wanted them to live vicariously.

I never do anything halfway. I always go quite overboard. I filled my brain with everything I could possibly learn about photography so I could take the best possible photos of Otis.

In the process of doing that, I realized I loved the art form. So even though Otis isn't around anymore, I owe him for giving me this wonderful creative outlet.

I took a long hiatus from photography when my parents got sick and I had to take care of them. Even though I stopped taking photos, I would watch photography education to help me relax. And it felt a bit like that meme of the dude studying the blade. I was learning some very advanced stuff.

Once my parents both passed I found myself with a giant hole in my life. And photography called me once again. I was a bit rusty operating the camera for a day or two, but because I had continued my learning, it all came back pretty quick. And I realized I was orders of magnitude better at photography, lighting, and post processing than I used to be.

My first photoshoot after 7 years was of my aunt and uncle. I didn't have much in the way of lighting equipment (I sold it to help my family), so I bounced a little flash off one of those science fair trifold thingies.

These shots made me realize I definitely needed photography back in my life. I figured if I could do that with cardboard I found at Walmart, I would have great potential with proper equipment. So I'm in the process of building a new studio and getting some new gear so I can show off what I'm capable of now.

I ran into a little medical hiccup a few months ago which put everything on pause. While I'm recovering I'm not really able to take any photos. So I've decided to try and write some photography education and help others with their photographic journeys as best I can. And I am still continuing to learn and planning what I want to photograph when my health is in better shape.

I really want to do high quality animal portraiture. Not just cats and dogs. I want to find other exotic pets too. And I also want to do an art project where I help people take high quality photos of their parents. One of the things I was most grateful for after my folks died was the photos I took of them.

And also this one I took of my grandmother.

Having a really high quality photo of people you love is so important. And I don't think everyone realizes that. So I'm hoping I can help folks capture these important memories.

Oh, my favorite thing. I almost forgot. I would say it is the problem solving. Every photo is a new puzzle for me. Especially if I am working with artificial lighting and modifiers. I enjoy imagining a photo in my head and then going through the process, solving problems, and realizing what I imagined in real life. It's a great feeling.

This photo of my friend Ryan comes to mind. I just had this vision of someone reading in the middle of a forest. And so we dragged lights to my neighbors yard and I taped a flash inside the lampshade.

[rubyin-wonderland]

Future

opla!Zoro X fem!reader

Summary: an unexpected question ignites Zoro's imagination

WC: 1.1k

Warnings/tags: nothing, enjoy the fluff

"Have you ever thought about having kids?" You asked offhandedly one day, sitting on the deck with Zoro, laying in the sun with him, his arms locked around you as you sat in his lap.

There was a tense in Zoro's body as he tried to interpret what you meant by that. "Are you trying to tell me something?" He asked nervously. You shook your head, laughing awkwardly. "Oh! No, Zoro. God, no. I was just thinking about it. We've never had this talk."

You turned so you could see him, shifting a bit in his lap. "Do you see a family in our future?"

Zoro thought, brow creasing slightly as he went through his process. Imagining small humans, features mixed between yours and his, waddling across the deck, learning to fight with blades like their father, inheriting the creative spirit of their mother.

Then he thought of the problems. The long nights, the exhausting days, the dangers of raising children, especially if the two of you decided to stay on the sea. You having to go through a nearly year long process to produce the child in the first place, putting yourself at high risk when your lives were already threatened nonstop.

The rivalling trains of thought collided, the sight of those sweet children with your eyes and his nose standing in front of massive pirates with no mercy to be found in their eyes.

Then he saw them fighting off their enemies, swift, trained movements they could have learned from no one else but him.

He delved deeper into this fictional life he had begun. You happily telling him that you were pregnant, him pulling you into his arms, lifting you so that your feet no longer touch the ground and holding you tightly, spinning you around, joy spilling out of every laugh in your throat.

The late stages of pregnancy, you letting him hold your stomach to feel his children kick, taking care of you as you dealt with even the slightest inconvenience, making sure that you were perfectly comfortable and happy.

A baby swaddled in your arms, a tired but happy smile overtaking both of your faces as the baby sleeps, Zoro picking up the delicate child and holding it carefully, love for the new life, just started but still full of so much potential.

Having to wake up in the middle of the night to the sounds of crying, as you roll over in bed he offers to handle it for you. You never turn down his offer. Picking up his child, so small in his arms, and cherishing the moment, even as the little lungs wail at him. He rocks his child gently, soothing as he tries to figure out what's wrong, finding the solution and fixing it as the wails die down, finally setting the baby back to bed, ready to fall asleep with you.

You taking him aside to announce that the two of you have a second baby on the way, his excitement doubling as he thinks about it for longer. Kissing you until your lungs are empty, arms locked around your back like a vice, happier than ever.

A total of three children, one in your arms, two in his, all small and wiggly, laughing as their father lifts them up easily, tucking them under his arms, while you heft the third onto your shoulders, for a better vantage point.

Nights of rest with you in his arms disturbed by a soft knock, and a youngster with messy hair asking for help after a nightmare. The child slipping between your bodies, tucked under the covers, safe between their parents.

Telling the children stories of their parents back in the day, Zoro's being tales of his epic feats of strength, yours practically fairy tales of bravery and honour, making the children roll their eyes every time you brought up your romance, the children screaming in mock disgust as you press a gentle kiss to the corner of Zoro's mouth.

Sitting at a bedside, where a coughing child sits, a damp towel on their head, testing temperatures and bringing bowls of soup, you coming in, pushing hair back to feel for a temperature. The child asking for Zoro to stay at their side during the night to keep the monsters at bay.

Bandaging scraped knees, warning of the sting of alcohol, salty tears dripping down sweet faces as you hold them on your lap, allowing Zoro to work on the scrape, cleaning the wound and taping little bandages over the issue.

Candles burning over a decorated cake as a grinning face with missing teeth claps their hands along to the singing around them, you sitting nearby, making sure the flames don't burn too high, while Zoro has the other two children on his knees, watching their sibling's celebration.

His swords sitting by the door, accompanied by a couple of training swords crafted from bamboo, unable to do serious damage, but a perfect weapon for a beginner to wield, protecting the furniture from nicks and scratches.

You standing in front of the kids, protective, eyes wild as a long lost enemy finds your home and threatens to destroy your peace. You standing in front of a defeated body turning to your children to remind them that they should never rush to fight, but it was a special situation.

Watching them grow, become people, have their own hopes and dreams which they leave you to follow. Heartfelt goodbyes as they set off on their own journeys, adventure running in their blood the same way it flows through their parents. Promises to visit and long hugs, the family one giant huddle of love, tears dropping down faces as the children, now grown, leave.

Zoro looks at you, considerate. "Yeah. We could have a family." He feels you relax a bit. "We'd have to wait for our lives to be less hectic, but I think a little kid would be wonderful." you smile.

Zoro's brain has already locked in the amount of children he can see in his future, ever a man with a theme. "Would you want multiple?" He asks, trying to test the waters. Three children, his children. The vision of them, their faces all a combination of his features and yours, blended together to create new people.

You look up at Zoro, considerate. "Yeah, I think a couple might be nice." "Or a few?" He challenges.

You look into his eyes, smiling furiously. "Put some thought into this, huh?" You ask. He shrugs, but his face gives it away. "I think a few would be good." You smile, settling back down against Zoro's chest. "Three," You muse. "Just enough to outnumber us." He nods. "We've handled worse than three children." You smile. "Damn right we have."

[aevellewritessometimes]

Recently I learned that most foxes mate for life, and this has led me forming an idea for a potential conflict during Vere's route:

Now, obviously, Vere is at least somewhat similar but still very different from actual foxes. For one, he clearly hasn't stuck to one sexual partner for his whole life. But foxes are canines, so it's not like mating for life is entirely about sex for them and there's an emotional aspect as well (I think. Don't look at me, I'm not a fox expert).

Now, back to Vere: the blurb on his flower lore post thing very vaguely implied that he was betrayed by an ex-lover, and when he talks to MC in the Wick during the demo, he comments on how he can tell MC was betrayed and that he could understand them because of it.

(I could just be wrong and/or Vere could've just been lying, but for the sake of this we're just going to ignore both of those factors)

When foxes - particularly the male ones - lose their mate, they usually don't move on from that and instead stay alone for the rest of their life.

So, here's what I'm thinking: because of Vere's hypothetical ex-lover, it's going to be very difficult for him to fall in love with MC. Sure, whether or not MC can trust him is probably going to be a big, defining question/plotline for his route, but I feel like whether or not Vere can trust MC might be a big one as well.

This leads me to have a few ideas for at least three different potential endings on his route:

Neutral Ending: Vere is free and MC is cured, but he doesn't fall in love with them and they just part ways after everything is said and done. You could add extra angst by saying that MC fell in love with Vere, but that isn't necessarily required to happen for this ending.

Bad Ending: MC betrays Vere and now Vere really isn't going to fall in love ever again and instead just goes back to his routine of one-night-stands and (very rare occasions of) FWBs

Bittersweet Ending: Vere is freed, MC is cured, and Vere eventually manages to fall in love with MC and vice-versa. But MC is, as far as we know, mortal. Vere is, as far as we know, immortal. Eventually, MC will die, but Vere will (most likely) live on for a long, long time after. And it's MC's death that actually leads to him never being able to fall in love again. Sure, he might eventually go back to sleeping around. Maybe he'll even end up with a new FWB. Or two, fuck it. But he'll never actually fall in love with someone ever again.

And of course, since I'm suddenly feeling creative when my brain is too tired to notice how many typos I probably have here (and/or if what I'm writing is actually coherent), I also have three "I don't think it'll actually happen but it's fun to think about" ideas:

Ending where Vere figures out a way to turn MC immortal and they live happily ever after forever. Is it a "Serial Killer x Serial Killer" thing? Is it a "Serial Killer Partner x Sunshine Partner Who Makes Dinner For Them After Their Long Day Of Murdering" thing? Is it a "Serial Killer Partner x Exasperated Partner Who Complains About Them Getting Blood On The Carpet" thing? Or maybe being with MC somehow caused Vere to develop a moral code, leading to there being much less murdering going on? Or hell, maybe it's something else entirely. Who knows and who cares, because either way, they're happy!

Even less likely ending where Vere turns mortal. There's an epilogue where you can watch Vere struggle with the fact that he actually has a time limit to do stuff now, but he guesses he can put up with it, as long as MC stays by his side. Not that he says that out loud. Sure, eventually, one of them will die first, but the one to die second might find comfort in the fact that they'll be together again soon enough (depending on how the afterlife works). (also everything from the previous scenario could apply to this one as well)

Reincarnation AU where Vere's hypothetical ex doesn't exist but he's been falling in love with MC in each and every life they live. Actually I have a lot of ideas for this one so let me get back to y'all on this note.

EDIT: here you go

And that's pretty much it. For now. Also, apparently foxes are very loud during sex and they're horniest during the winter months so do what you'd like with that knowledge.

[k-tarotz]

Pac - which idol are you similar to?

Hey our sweethearts! This is just a short pick a pile for fun, it's a general reading so only take what resonates and leave what doesn't, it might include messages that you should hear right now! If you like this pac please reblog or like it, thank you a lot <3

Pile 1:

Idol vibes: Sunghoon (enhypen), Mark (nct), Wonbin (Riize)

Alright so you are giving natural leader energy. You’re the type who’s always hardworking, having your goals right in front of your eyes. You are creative but also classic and smart. People probably come to you for advice because you just get it. Some of you might be introverted, not showing all your layers to just anyone but rather to the people you are close to and they enjoy how much duality you have to yourself.

Why you are similar to them:

You know how to take charge without being bossy.

You’re always looking to improve yourself and help others.

People trust you because you keep it real.

What to remember:

Don’t doubt your abilities. Don't ask yourself "can I actually-" Yes, you can.

Pile 2:

Idol vibes: Suzy, Jisoo (blackpink), Felix (stray kids)

You are the kind of person that everyone loves to be around because your energy is so chill but fun. Like those idols you’ve got this quirky / funny, free-spirited vibe that makes people feel safe to just be themselves. You are lowkey magnetic without even trying. You are charming and honest, the people around you find you very trustworthy.

Why you are similar to them:

You don’t care about fitting in - you’re all about being you.

Your sense of humor and kindness make people want to stick around. They find you very lovely.

You’re super loyal to the ones you care about.

What to remember:

Never tone yourself down for anyone. Your unique vibe is what makes you stand out, people like you exactly for who you are.

Pile 3:

Idol vibes: IU, Jungkook, Cha Eunwoo (astro)

You are giving sweet but powerful vibes. People might underestimate you at first but you’re all about proving them wrong. You work hard, stay humble and have this warmth to yourself that makes others feel comfortable around you. One or multiple of those might be your main love language; physical touch (especially hugs), gift giving and words of affirmation.

Why you are similar to them:

You are a supportive friend, yet you know your own worth, your potential and what you want.

You’ve probably been through a lot but came out stronger.

Your kindness makes people love you, even if you don’t realize it.

What to remember:

Trust yourself more - you’re stronger than you think, even if you go through a hardship you will make it out just like last time.

Thank you for reading! 🩵

- Hun