#i'm not constantly miserable. i can LIVE. and that is EVERYTHING to me.

[bravevolunteer]

sorry. thought about a healing arc michael getting to figure out Who He Is beyond his trauma, beyond absolving himself and putting an end to what william started, beyond the constant fox and rabbit chase, realizing that he does not have to be forever tied to his past and he is allowed to be something other than a constant reflection of it, and now i'm incapacitated

[blakelywintersfield]

I'm so fucking exhausted with it all

[ghostprinceiii]

As soon as I get home I am never leaving my house again.

[steddiewithachance]

"Likewise"

(Steve shows up to Wayne and Eddie's house with all of his belongings on his back and it makes Eddie remember when he was in the same position)

Dedicated to my lovely and wonderful AND awesome friend, Birdie

Read on ao3 here

*

Eddie and Wayne have always been pretty inseparable, since Eddie was 11 and made a trek across Indiana to find him. But after all the Vecna shit happened, after the manhunt and the three week hospital visit, Wayne had been especially clingy. Wayne's version of being clingy is constantly asking Eddie to do mundane things with him, it's intense love and worry and near loss disguised as casual invitations.

Eddie is endeared by it even though he'll play his part: roll his eyes and act annoyed like it's a chore.

This afternoon Wayne had knocked on Eddie's door and asked "Hey Eds wanna come out'n watch the game with me?"

And Eddie flung open the door with a huge sarcastic grin. "Me? A sports ball match TV game? You know I wouldn't miss it for the world, Uncle Wayne!" Wayne scoffed and Eddie grabbed his acoustic guitar so that he could entertain himself while he kept Wayne company in the living room.

Which is where they are now. Eddie is spread across the couch. He's aimlessly moving his fingers around the fretboard until he finds a chord that sounds nice while a sports announcer drones on in the background. Sometimes Eddie will look up to find Wayne in his old recliner watching him instead of the game. Eddie doesn't say anything, just gives him a reassuring smile.

It's raining kind of hard today, which normally would be stressful. Eddie and Wayne would be running around the house with buckets trying to catch water from all the new places the rain was leaking in. But with their shiny new government gifted place, they could sit back and enjoy the weather.

Eddie violently startles when someone knocks on the door. He sets his guitar to the side and Wayne turns the TV volume down. "Who is it?" Eddie calls out while walking towards the door.

"Steve." He hears in response.

When Eddie opens the door he's confronted with a very distraught-looking boyfriend. He looks like he's been crying, he has two dufflebags and a backpack, and he's soaking wet from the rain. Eddie immediately steps back and lets him in.

"Sweetheart, what's going on?" Eddie asks closing the door behind them even though he has a pretty good idea what the bags mean. Steve sniffles and lets his stuff fall to the floor. He startles when he realizes Wayne is in the room too. He's quiet for a few moments, maybe composing himself, Eddie thinks. Always trying to be brave and strong even when he doesn't have to, this one.

"Can I sleep over tonight?" Steve asks like it's taking a lot of effort to do so, even if he's slept over a dozen times already. "My parents... I need a place to stay and Robin's out of town and I felt kinda weird letting any of the kids see me like this" Steve wipes his nose but his sleeve is just as wet and he looks miserable, so Eddie reaches out and wipes Steve's nose with his own sleeve.

"I'm gross, sorry" Steve apologizes.

"Of course you can stay here, Stevie, is that even a question? Let's get you something dry to wear-" Eddie tells him, when he's suddenly and overwhelmingly hit with the dreamy feeling of deja vu. He looks back at Wayne wondering if he's thinking the same thing. Wayne's meets his gaze and his mouth twitches into a half smile.

Eddie grabs Steve's stuff and pulls him into his bedroom. After he sets everything down, he gently runs his hands up under Steve's shirt, until it's all bunched up right under his chin. Eddie pulls the wet fabric over his shoulders and off his arms. Eddie leans forward and plants kisses on each of Steve's perfectly freckled shoulders.

Once Steve is all changed and sat on the foot of the bed, Eddie stands over him and wraps a blanket over his head and shoulders like a little burrito. He looks adorable like this, all cozy.

"You want to talk about what happened, or not yet?" Eddie whispers, to keep the energy in the room gentle and light. Steve shakes his head without thinking and looks up at him for reassurance. Eddie leans down to plant a soft kiss on his lips. "That's okay, Babylove. You know you gave me crazy deja vu walking through that door with your duffle bags in the rain?" Eddie places his hands on either side of Steve's blanketed head.

"When I came to live with Wayne it was raining too. I always thought rain was a bad omen, you know? But then in english class one year, we talked about how in literature, rain is like symbolic of change and new beginnings. And I thought, 'yeah actually that makes a lot of sense'." Eddie speaks quietly while Steve looks up at him, listening. "Do you want to hear the story of how I met Wayne?"

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

1977

When Eddie steps out of the school building he sees that the cloudy sky has gotten darker since recess. That's a bad omen, he thinks to himself, but hears it in his dad's southern drawl.

He makes his way towards the front school gates, twisting his backpack strings together, a nervous habit. A swarm of children, mostly younger than him, begin to unlock their bikes from where they're chained and wheel them towards the street. Eddie pushes his way through the crowd to do the same.

He feels kind of sick grabbing the handlebars of a bike he knows full well shouldn't belong to him. He should have known that when he asked his dad for a bike it would have been stolen from some other poor kid. He feels terrible thinking about the night his dad brought it home and put a sticker over where another kid's name was carved into the paint. He shakes his head and rides over to the tree where he promised to meet his best friend, Daniel.

Daniel's already there waiting for him, talking loudly to some kid from the other sixth-grade class.

"See you Monday!" Daniel yells out as the kid hops on his bike and takes off down the street. Daniel has a smile on his face, always has been better at making friends than Eddie. He's a sweet kid, but kind of naïve.

"Hey," Eddie mutters propping his bike against the tree. Daniel turns towards him and his eyes immediately catch on Eddies forehead.

"I still can't get used to you without hair. It's weird." Daniel says petting Eddie's buzzed head. "I kinda think it looked better before."

"Yeah yeah, I already told you my dad made me." Eddie swats his hand away. "Did you ask your brother? About driving me to Hawkins?"

"Oh yeah... he said it's too far. Sorry." Daniel barely looks regretful. Eddie's heart drops.

"What?! But did you tell him I could give him money and weed?" Eddie's starting to panic. If Daniel's older brother Paul, who just got his license wouldn't drive him to Hawkins, he was gonna have to think of a new plan, and fast.

"Oh no I forgot that part, oops. Well he's picking me up in 10 minutes, just ask him yourself." Daniel complains, and Eddie doesn't blame him for not taking it seriously. Daniel doesn't understand the urgency of the situation, Eddie hasn't really told anyone why he needs to get to Hawkins so badly.

Eventually Paul pulls up in front of them, hitting the curb a little which just screams new driver and Eddie grimaces. Beggars can't be choosers, he supposes. He follows Daniel to the car. The kid gracelessly plops into the passenger seat and Eddie leans down to talk to his brother through the open door.

Paul has long blonde hair that makes Eddie miss his own hair desperately and a scar on his lip that he apparently got while skiing one winter. As always, he looks handsome, Eddie admits to himself and tries not to blush. He shakes the thought.

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

"Was he more handsome than me?" Steve interrupts Eddie recounting the story. He's pouting.

"Steve," Eddie exhales exasperatedly, "Not even close. Let me finish the story though."

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

"Hi Paul."

"Hey kid."

Eddie's face twists up, doesn't want Paul to think of him like a kid.

"Look Paul, I really need your help. I need to see my uncle and I would really be grateful if you could drive me." And before Paul can object Eddie adds, "I have money and weed that I can give you in exchange."

Paul clearly considers this. "How much?"

"How much weed? Uh I dunno a baggie?" Eddie puts his fingers up to demonstrate how much weed he remembers there being in the bag.

"No no, how much money?" Paul chuckles fondly. Meanwhile Daniel is ping ponging his head back and forth between his brother and Eddie.

"I have like forty bucks. I know it's not a ton, and it's a far drive, but this is really important." Eddie pleads. Paul stares out the windshield for a few moments.

"And you wanted to go tonight?" He asks Eddie who nods fervently. "When would you need a ride back?"

And Eddie looks at Daniel who seems bored by the whole ordeal, who is picking at the netting on his backpack. Eddie knows that if this plan works out, he won't be coming back at all. But Daniel's been good to him and Eddie hates disappointing people, so he does what his father taught him to do: he lies.

"I'm sure my uncle will drive me back, s'all good." And Paul nods his head.

"Okay kid. Let me drop Daniel home and I'll come pick you up from your place." And Eddie's heart skyrockets. Okay shit, he's actually doing this.

"Thank you! Thank's Paul. That's cool of you. Thank you." Eddie smiles big, shows all his teeth even though he's still missing a few. Paul nods and Daniel reaches forward to close the door when Eddie realizes this might be the last time he sees his best friend.

"Wait!" Eddie interrupts and grabs the door.

Paul and Daniel look at him worriedly. "Can- can I have a hug before you go?" Eddie asks Daniel shakily. He feels his throat tighten and his eyes go a little blurry. Fuck! He's always so emotional, despite Al's best efforts to chastise the sensitivity out of him.

"I guess." Daniel says, weirded out by Eddie's sudden change of tone. He unbuckles his seat belt and holds his arms out. Eddie fiercely tugs him in and realizes that Daniel can probably feel him shaking now. "But I'll see you Monday right?"

Eddie takes a deep breath, tries to will his voice to come out strong. He pulls back giving Daniel a reassuring smile and a pat on the shoulder. "Yeah man, see you. And see you tonight Paul. Thanks again." And instead of looking Daniel in the eyes again he turns away and grabs "his" bike.

*

Eddie's waiting outside with his bags and a map with directions that he carefully planned out a few nights ago. He's praying to any and all gods that his dad doesn't make it home before Paul get's there. Every time he sees a car turn onto the street he panics and prepares to run.

Despite the bad weather, and Eddie's paranoia, Paul pulls up first and Eddie lets out a huge sigh of relief. Eddie smiles at him and puts his bags in the back seat. The teen looks at him with soft eyes, clearly not as gullible as his kid brother. Knows what's really happening.

"Do you have everything?" Paul asks when Eddie sits in the passenger seat and hands over two twenties and a little bag of weed he stole from his dad's dresser. Eddie nods. "Are you absolutely sure?"

Eddie thinks it would be nice to have a brother like Paul. Never got to know him too well, but he seems to care.

"Yeah man, double and triple checked." Eddie looks into the rear view mirror just in time to see his dad's black pickup truck round the corner. He sinks into the seat. "Shit man, go! Drive!"

Paul startles into action and hits the gas. It doesn't seem like Al notices because he pulls into the parking garage speeding recklessly like he always does. When they're a few streets down, Eddie sits up again and opens the map.

"Am I gonna get arrested for kidnapping you?" Paul worries, wide eyed, as he makes his way towards the highway.

"My dad's afraid of cops. I really doubt he'd call em." Eddie responds before briefing Paul on the directions (ironically) to Hawkins' police station, where hopefully someone will know where his uncle Wayne lives.

*

It's a quiet drive. Eddie finds that he's not sure what to talk to a 16 year old about and would rather pay attention to directions. He can tell Paul wants to ask what he's running from, but refrains, which Eddie's thankful for. When they're about ten minutes out from Hawkins, it starts raining.

Eddie feels guilty that Paul will probably have to drive two hours home in the rain. He voices this concern, but Paul, the saint he is, reassures him it's no big deal.

Eventually they pull up to the police station and Eddie hauls his bags out of the back seat before coming back around to the passenger side door. He leaves the map with Paul and the set of hand written directions on how to get home that Eddie made for him.

"Thanks again for everything, Paul. Drive safely."

"Eddie do you want me to wait to make sure you get where you're going?" He asks softly and Eddie doesn't remember a time where anyone spoke to him with such care. He wants to cry for some reason. Wants to take him up on the offer, but doesn't want to inconvenience the teenager more than he already has.

"I'm okay, but thank you." As soon as Eddie slams the car door shut and turns towards the station, he starts to cry. He hears the gravel crunching as Paul pulls out of the parking lot behind him. Maybe this was all a mistake. He takes a deep breath, wipes his eyes and steps through the glass door.

"Hello, can I help you?," the woman behind the front desk asks, pushing her glasses down to get a good look at Eddie who is dripping rainwater onto the linoleum floor.

"Yeah. I'm here hoping someone knows where Wayne Munson lives? He's my uncle."

The woman holds up a finger and makes her way to a desk in the back of the station. She clears her throat and starts talking to a man.

Eddie shifts his weight as he tries to make out their muffled conversation. He looks up when a tall man sticks his head out and examines Eddie from across the room. The cop nods at the receptionist and grabs keys from his desk.

"You're looking for Wayne Munson?" The man, "Hopper" his badge reads, says while walking over.

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

"That's when you first met Hopper?" Steve interrupts again with a small smile. Eddie rolls his eyes, fondly. He nods.

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

"Yes sir." He responds to the officer.

Eddie wonders if Al has started looking for him yet. Wonders if Al walked into his room and saw half his belongings gone. Probably not. And even if he did, he'd have no idea where Eddie went. Too uninvolved in Eddie's life to know the names of any of his friends.

"Alright, he lives in the trailer park. Forest Hills. Let me drive you over." Hopper waves his hand and steps into the rain. He opens the passenger seat of his car and ushers Eddie inside.

The thing about this whole situation is that Eddie knows next to nothing about his uncle. Only hears cutting remarks about him from his father once in a blue moon. But it's the kind of cutting remark that might actually mean Wayne's a good person, if it's coming from Al. Eddie only knows he lives in Hawkins, because Al mentioned it once, in passing. "Lives in a little shit hole town no one's ever heard of while I'm out here making it big in the city," he had bragged. But it's not like Al talks enough about Wayne to immediately suspect that this is where Eddie might have ran off to. He's trying to convince himself he's safe now.

*

Eddie is accompanied to Wayne's door by the officer. Hopper knocks aggressively before Eddie can even get it straight in his head what he's gonna say to Wayne. The rain is coming down hard now. He's hugging his canvas duffle bag to his chest, trying to protect his sketchbooks inside from the downpour.

"Wayne Munson? It's Jim Hopper with Hawkins PD. Open up." Hopper announces, knocking again.

And almost immediately after he knocks, the door opens a crack. Eddie sees a man with greying dark brown hair cut close to his head and a patchy beard. Wayne's eyes drop to Eddie almost instantly.

"Can I help you?" Wayne asks. His accent is stronger than Al's, Eddie notices.

"I have a kid here who claims to be your nephew?" Hopper says gruffly, scratching his mustache. Wayne opens the door wider, looking Eddie up and down with wide eyes.

"I'm uh... Al's kid?" Eddie adds quietly. And Wayne's face goes through a variety of emotions before nodding to the officer.

"Thanks Jim, I'll take it from here." Wayne mutters. Eddie watches as the officer tips his head and offers a "stay dry folks," before getting back into his car.

"Come on in, kid," Wayne says opening his door for Eddie to walk past him. Eddie takes in his surroundings. The place is... sad looking. There's hardly any furniture, just a TV and a recliner in front of a coffee table which is covered in empty beer bottles. In the corner of the room there are a handful of boxes, one of which is filled to the brim with different colored mugs. This confuses Eddie a little, but overall Eddie's not getting a good vibe. Probably still better than living with Al though.

He turns back to see Wayne watching him carefully. Eddie clears his throat.

"I'm really sorry to come unannounced like this. I know we don't really know each other, and you don't owe me anything! But I- I didn't know where else to go and I was wondering if maybe it would be okay if I stayed here for a little? I can sleep on the recliner or the floor I don't need much. I just can't- I can't go home." Eddie is shivering now, he's not sure if it's anxiety from the situation or if he's just cold and wet.

Wayne nods his head and reaches his hand out for one of Eddie's bags. "S'alright kid. Let's get you dry." He took Eddie's bags and set them against the wall. He disappears down the hallway leaving Eddie shaking by the door, before reappearing with a towel. Eddie wraps it around himself while Wayne stands and looks around the place, likely, realizing how uninviting it seems to Eddie.

Wayne walks towards the coffee table and starts grabbing empty beer bottles.

"You don't have to clean for me, I don't mind." Eddie says meekly, but Wayne continues on anyways.

"S'alright kid. Why don't you get changed into something dry. Ya have any dry clothes in those bags of yours?" Motioning towards Eddie's belongings with a hand full of bottles. Eddie kneels and unzips one of the bags feeling around for something dry which most of it is. Eddie pulls out a new pair of jeans and a sweatshirt.

"Bathroom?" Eddie asks quietly.

"Down the hall to your left."

*

When Eddie reemerges, the coffee table is clean. And Wayne looks up at him, puts on a smile which seems forced. He must be able to tell by Eddie's face that the smile isn't as reassuring as he was going for. He sighs and scratches the back of his head.

"Should I not have come here?" Eddie asks while stepping out of the hallway and towards the door. He's in desperate need of reassurance, just wants to know if he's safe here or not.

"No! You were right to. I mean Al, is he-" Wayne is searching Eddie's eyes for answers. "Is he hurtin' you?" Wayne crosses his arms but then quickly uncrosses them. Clearly uncomfortable, nervous. And it's making Eddie feel that way too.

"Yeah." Eddie admits into the quiet of the room softened only by the sound of rain pattering against the roof. Wayne exhales and rubs his face.

"Fuckin' bastard." Wayne mutters under his breath. "He's a piece of shit, I'm so sorry kid." Eddie just nods, agreeing. "It's uh... Edward right?" Wayne asks coyly. Eddie wonders when Wayne last talked to Al.

"I go by Eddie," he quickly amends.

"Eddie, alright. It's nice to finally meet you then, Eddie." Wayne roots around in his pocket and pulls out a pack of cigarettes before thinking better of it and tucking it back into his pocket.

"You can smoke around me, I'm used to it." Eddie shrugs and leans against the wall.

"Yeah well you shouldn't be." Wayne grumbles. He rubs his hands together and claps. "Okay so I only got one bed. I'm gonna wash the sheets and then you can take it tonight. I'll sleep on the recliner there until we figure out somethin' better. That sound okay by you?"

"No! I don't want to take your bed-"

"Just temporarily kid, s'alright. But first let's get you some food. You're as thin as store-bought thread." Wayne grabs a pair of keys off the kitchen counter and jingles them playfully.

"I don't have much around here, so lets go to the diner and then get some groceries on the way back, how's that?" He asks. Eddie nods in agreement.

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

"He took me to go get blueberry pancakes. It kinda became a tradition. To get blueberry pancakes any time I had a real bad day." Eddie shares while petting Steve's damp hair.

"What made you leave home that Friday? Before the school year was over?" Steve asks, seemingly distracted from his own problems which is what Eddie was aiming for.

"Al's girlfriend found out I was..." Eddie gestures between the two of them, "you know. She was constantly holding it over my head. Said she was gonna tell him. I didn't want to find out what would happen when she did."

"And he never came looking for you?" Steve furrows his brow. Eddie smooths it over with his thumb.

"I dunno. Maybe he talked to Wayne. But eventually we found out he was sent off to prison for grand theft. He's such a disaster, my god." Eddie sighs and tilts Steve's face up towards him. "Do you want to go get blueberry pancakes, Angel? It's been a day, huh?"

"I'm so sorry to say this, Eds, but I hate blueberry pancakes." Steve shrugs the blanket off his shoulders. Eddie gasps in horror.

"You dare speak ill of my comfort food, Steve Harrington?" Eddie dramatically responds, pushing his forehead against Steve's. Steve smiles and pushes him back.

"I like chocolate chip though." Steve tries to amend. And Eddie nods in understanding.

"Okay princess, let's go get you some chocolate chip pancakes. Can I invite Wayne?" Eddie starts tearing off his pajamas and scrambling around the room for outside clothes.

"Yeah, of course Wayne can come." Steve sighs and lays back on the bed looking much more like himself than he did when he got here.

"'Kay one sec," Eddie pulls on his favorite Judas Priest shirt while he stumbles back out into the living room. "Hey old man?"

Wayne looks up from the TV at Eddie. "Everything alright?" He lowers the volume again, even though it wasn't all that loud to begin with. Wayne always does this, it's like he can't think while something is playing in the background. It's impossible to add commentary when they're watching TV together because he'll either not process what Eddie said or not catch what the TV did.

"Yeah. We were thinking of going to the diner for pancakes, it's been a day. You coming?" Eddie combs his fingers through his hair realizing he probably still has bed head. Wayne looks up at him with shiny eyes.

"I'm proud of you, y'know?" Wayne whispers. This catches Eddie off guard.

"What? For what?" Eddie crosses his arm. Doesn't like when Wayne gets sappy.

"Being a decent kid. Taking care of people the way you do." Wayne gets up and reaches for his keys just like he did in '77. "Real glad you found me when ya did, son."

"Likewise, Uncle Wayne"

[halucynator]

Hey babe! Absolutely adore your writing! Do you have any recs?

Thanks! And yes! I'm so glad you asked. There's a lot though so it's gonna be a bit long x

Theodore Nott

@cassiopeiasdaughter : an exceptional writer, their Theodore Nott fics based on midnight songs are the best! Wish them good luck on their uni exams and check out their awesome blog xx

Here are some of my personal favourites from their blog:

August: Theo asks you to be his fake-girlfriend but you understand the assignment a little too well.

Fearless: Based on the song fearless by Taylor Swift.

Maroon: A diary entry written during the War based on the song maroon by Taylor Swift.

Check out their other midnights collection entries!

@avalynlestrange: another great writer! one of the best angst writers on this platform in my opinion x they also write mattheo Riddle fics

These ones are my favourite:

@the0doreslover: in love with their Theo fics!

Foolish one: In which you know you’re being foolish in liking Draco but will you finally learn your lesson? Theodore certainly hopes you do.

In my head: In which Theodore Nott is the man of your dreams. Literally. Who is his?

My favourite one is Cooking class xx

Here are a few Theodore Nott fics from writers who's blogs aren't all about Theo xx

I think he knows: you had fancied the mysteriously quiet slytherin boy for as long as you could remember (since first year), and, quite frankly, your best friend was sick of you going on about it without ever making a move

Now, I did some digging and @dreamcubed writes about other hp characters as well based on songs by Taylor Swift! Their work is amazing so go check them out! Sorry for the late mention, I just checked and realised that they have like a blog that revolves around hp characters xx

Electric touch: a cute guy stumbles into the coffee shop you work at and it alters your brain chemistry.

I thought you knew:“i thought you knew?” “you thought i knew we were dating?” “yes!” “how would i know that, nott, you never told me.”

Want you: Based on the following prompts: Why do you always look at me like that?” “Like what?” “Like you… Want me.”  and "he doesn't even deserve to be breathing the same air as you"

Butterfly Love: Despite witnessing the death of his mother and being forced to grow under the watch of his Death Eater father, Theodore Nott is living proof that love and care bloom even in the most barren conditions. Maybe, they flourish even more.

Mattheo Riddle

@suugarbabe: their fics are absolutely magnificent. I recommend their saving grace series x the rest parts can be found on their blog x

These are some of my personal favourites:

Always: You & Theo have been best friends since year 1. Everyone things you and Theo are going to end up together but both of you like different people.

Drawings: based on prompts 'i never knew that about you...it's cute' and 'i can't believe I've never seen this side of you before'

Oblivious: contains smut Based on prompts "Are you really so oblivious?" And "Can I kill him now?"

@happilykrispypirate: another fabulous writer! Their mattheo angst fics are like the best x the mistake and don't touch her are my favourite xx

Some of my favourite mattheo fics are listed below x:

Black Quill: You never liked Umbridge, but who did? The woman was miserable and cruel. Her power in the school grew day after day.

Mattheo finds you crying alone: Imagine crying alone in the Astronomy Tower, hoping to escape everyone but Mattheo finds you

Torment : Reader is constantly bullied. Mattheo saves her from the bullies.

Everything and nothing: 1 2: where mattheo brings along a girl none of your group is fond of. Especially you. And the timing of it all is horrible.

Draco Malfoy

@talesofadragon: they have amazing fics and their fluff stories are the best! Check them out for Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes fics as well if you're interested xx

These are my favourite Draco fics by them. Their Draco masterlist is here.

Even if it's dark: Summary: Despite being raised in a traditional pureblood household with an overly abusive father, Y/N Y/L/N teaches Draco that light can exist even in the darkest of places.

Mittens: When Draco is in a foul mood and unwilling to disclose his problems, Y/N resorts to her animagus form to get him to talk. 

@fallingforfictionalcharacterss: whenever I feel like I'm going to go back to my Draco phase I read their fics! Another really good angst writer x Their fics are so cool and I love them xx some of their fics I love:

Falling: Where you are falling for the one boy who is known to break every girl´s heart.

False friends and true love: Where you get into a fight with your best friend and she reveals your feelings for a certain boy in front of everybody.

Ruin your life: Why would you kiss out of all the people the boy you hate the most in this world?

@dreamingonfilm: another great writer! Their fluff fics are my favorite! These are some I love by them:

Pretending: in which you watch Draco as he falls out of love with you

Cramps: In which Draco takes care of you whilst you’re on your period.

Bruises: 1 2: After years of being bullied by Draco, you finally stand up for yourself. However, you left him with more than a bloodied cheek and a bruised jaw.

Some other fics that I love:

Amortentia: the rest parts can be found on that post. Summary: Pansy forces a secret out of you, and you’re strongly debating which curse/jinx to use on her.

Unforgivable: Where y/n gets poisoned because of draco's behaviour

Taylor Swift

This is random but if you want someone to talk to Taylor Swift about, check out @annaisabookworm. They're super sweet and supportive and their blog is about Taylor Swift xx I love their posts x

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

Essential component of Ed Teach to me is that he needs to constantly be doing things that actively make him upset and he just doesn't realize that he can. not do those things.

Ed has so often been denied agency in his own life, from the big things to things as basic as "what clothes I want to wear" and "what name I want people to use for me." So he just keeps going along, absolutely miserable and beating himself up for absolutely everything. He's the best pirate ever! That should count for something, but obviously he's a monster for getting there! All pirates are violent but Ed's Different and Worse. When people treat him like shit he assumes he deserves it. He thinks he's the worst guy to ever live despite us being shown in the show itself that he's literally fine.

And that's how you wind up with things like Ed's many tattoos of things that freak him out (like spiders and snakes). He loves soft things and has the money to buy them, but he denies himself those comforts. He never passes up a chance to punish himself just for existing until finally someone comes along and goes "you're really lovely, actually, and I'm going to love you so much it's going to be like the permission you've always needed to treat yourself with any compassion at all."

[aois-amaterasu-painting]

Ruki (on X):

From January to July, so many things have happened.

Amidst the whirlwind of days, I questioned what is right and what is normal? While swaying between emotions and reason, I was constantly making various choices, and desperately running through each day.

In such times, I was supported solely by everyone's concerned voices and the words "I love you."

Thank you always.

And although it's been a while, I wrote on Instagram. I hope this reaches everyone who loves me. ✉️

It's been about two months since my last post.

Seeing the closet still filled with winter clothes, I realized that this year, for me, there was no spring. Time stopped in winter, and then summer came.

I noticed that I had been putting off such a basic thing as living, and I finally did a long-overdue wardrobe change the other day.

Life is built on daily choices, an accumulation of decisions.

Only you can decide if those choices and your life are right or wrong.

The responsibility for your life is yours and yours alone.

I feel that trying to conform to the standards of "normal" for others will only make you feel more miserable when you are going through a tough time.

It's the same for everything; it's okay not to be "normal" as measured by someone else's standards.

No matter the relationship, I believe it's impossible to fully understand all of someone's inner struggles and pain. Fans' pain and our pain, human wounds vary from person to person.

Therefore, the way and speed at which wounds heal also vary for each person. The way you accept things too. It's okay if it's not the same.

Because the heart is a place that cannot be seen from the outside, others can't understand those wounds, and in fact, even we ourselves cannot measure how deep our wounds are.

Everyone, might be forcing a smile on the outside, and when they come home, no one sees the emptiness they are feeling, and they probably don't want to show it to anyone.

The way I've spent my days, I was told, wasn't very human-like, but I think that's okay.

Now, rather than sadness, I feel loneliness.

Because I am human, I know that I will meet them again someday.

So, thinking that way, I am accepting it now.

Although I feel lonely without Koron and Reita, for now, goodbye. This reminded me of when I wrote the lyrics for QUIET.

And when the day comes that we can meet again, I want to live in a way that I'll be told, "You lived a good life."

In reality, there are four of us now, but not as a mere illusion; another face is vividly present in my mind.

So, the feeling of being five members is not a lie. That will surely be forever.

After thinking about it all, I've come to the conclusion that I need to start living each day in a way that will leave a lot of proof that I lived.

I want to create music and things with more love than ever before.

Although my core approach to making music hasn't changed, what I feel I want to draw and leave behind now has changed significantly.

I want to cherish every moment, even the most ordinary ones, like taking pictures of everyday life, going to different places and feeling the scenery, the smells, all the things that I can only feel at that moment.

And if you're feeling overwhelmed right now, I think it’s okay to put everything on hold and take a break without overthinking it. It’s okay to stop pushing yourself for a while.

If I hadn’t taken a step back, I wouldn't have reached this mindset.

Then, bit by bit, listen to music you love, visit places that bring you joy, and heal your heart.

I'm gradually doing that myself too.

I hope everyone can find their own way of healing.

And if this band, the GazettE, can become something that saves or heals even just one person, I will overcome anything.

To me, everyone who waits for us is my reason for living.

The only place where you can let out everything you can't express in daily life, I believe, is at live concerts.

So, I hope we can share that extraordinary space where we can shout and make noise together as much as possible.

I've said it before, but there will be more opportunities to meet from now on. Or rather, I will make them.

I want to increase the time I can enjoy with everyone who loves me, so please wait for it.

Next is Toyosu PIT announcement, so please check it out.

Thank you for reading such a long post. I'll write again

2024.07.18

[reikunrei]

feeling incredibly averse to posting this but i'm just gonna drop my kofi link here in case anyone wants to help me get out of my increasingly shitty situation living with my parents

more info below ig

after having given my parents nearly $100k over the last four years, i'd love to be able to actually leave. my future job situation is still up in the air (i've submitted for about a dozen positions and the only one i've heard back from and interviewed for hasn't gotten back to me yet), and i haven't been able to build up any savings because, again, i was (and still am) helping my family afford rent and bills, and probably the taxes my parents are behind on, but if i think about that, i'll get too angry. no joke, i've given my family, at the bare minimum, 85% of my income over the last 4 years. the rest of it has gone toward medical stuff and, now, my car

at this point, with the combo of my mom refusing to lower her standards and my dad's seeming refusal to hunt for a new full time job, i don't see how they won't continue to bleed me dry. my dad even has a bad habit of taking money out of my old savings account that he's a joint owner on or whatever from when i got it set up when i was 16, even when i stopped actively putting money in it, so now any time it gets its automated $1 transfer from my checking account, he'll just take that $1 without consulting me. i'm not exaggerating, even if it has $1-2 in it, it'll be gone within a week

i've even put off starting on testosterone because of this. i wanted to start it like 3 years ago, but kept putting it off because of money issues and wanting to save as much as possible. i got really close to actually starting it this year, but because of how messy everything is, i put it off again bc having one more thing on my plate, especially when my parents are already weird about me being trans, was not something i wanted to deal with

not to mention, we're still currently not living under a lease in our house that we're, as far as i'm aware, still tens of thousands of dollars behind in rent on (again, my dad refuses to disclose our financial position honestly with any of us) and it's developed many, many issues bc the landlord, even before we were behind on rent, is shit and refuses to actually fix anything. and my dad loves to just ignore things unless we beg him to do something

i'd love to be on my own (in the, much more affordable, midwest) by the end of summer. i by no means want to rely on donations and i have other avenues i'm working with to make money (i still have my current full time job, but i'm going through my old belongings and selling a lot online), but i'll take any help i can get atp because i'm truly at my wits end. i'd start doing art commissions again if i could, but doing that from 2020-2022, partially on top of my full time job, absolutely wrecked my right hand and i'm still in enough pain that i can't make it a regular activity

idk how much else there is to say. there's more i could say but... i don't really wanna air all my dirty laundry here. i'm miserable in so many ways and it's just become increasingly clear that my dad expects me to constantly cover his ass. my younger brother gives money too, but he manages to go on big cross-country and overseas trips with friends, so i think i've been stuck with the burden of giving the most money. there's so many more things going on in the world rn and everyone is stretched thin so i don't expect much, or anything, but. idk. might as well throw it out there, right?

i’ve also since taken down the gfm i set up last year when we got our first eviction notice bc, while we still need the money, i don’t feel right keeping it up for multiple reasons, including “i don’t want to give any of that money to my family” and it feels too… serious to keep it up when i could just throw out my kofi instead

i just want to make sure i have some sort of safety net to catch me if i move before anything job-wise is finalized. i need to be able to afford a place to live for at least a month so i can job-search while physically being in the area i wanna move to, which would ultimately make it easier for me to find a job at all. i'm working on being more firm with giving less money so i can actually have the means to move and be safe and comfortable, but... that never lasts long in this house

anyway. that's it, i guess. thanks for reading

[crownmemes]

Questioning Sentences, Vol. 20

(Questioning sentences from various sources to ask all kinds of muses. Adjust phrasing where needed)

"What makes you think I’m so much better than you?"

"Why are you wearing perfume?"

"Can you honestly tell me you've never done anything hypocritical?"

"You think I have a hypocritical attitude to hypocrisy?"

"You don't like flying, do you?"

"Suddenly you discover humanity?"

"So, when you say 'call me if you need anything', you mean 'don’t call me'?""

"Something on your mind?"

"Have you ever actually killed anybody, or do you just talk them to death?"

"You don't think that's a little paranoid?"

"Is this some clever practical joke that I'm not aware of?"

"Are you going to cry?"

"Why do you want so badly not to be human?"

"Did I mention that I have been drinking?"

"You would really give up everything you've ever known for me?"

"What exactly are you looking for?"

"Did you iron your shirt?"

"I assume you have a reason beyond wanting to make me completely miserable?"

"Why are you so curious about his curiosity?"

"You blow-dry your hair?"

"Does that make me evil?"

"Are you afraid of silence?"

"I'm supposed to show you sympathy?"

"How many people do you know in completely happy, fullfilling relationships?"

"Are there no depths you won't sink to?"

"Are you really okay?"

"You don't think she's hot?"

"What do you do with your time off?"

"May I have a drink now?"

"Why do you think that people would treat you worse if they knew the truth?"

"Excuse me for actually caring what I look like!"

"Have you watched any X-Files that inspire an explanation?"

"I don't suppose it's occurred to you that I might hugely prefer someone else?"

"Do the consequences of attacking outweigh the potential benefiits?"

"Did you sleep here?"

"I take it you two aren't sleeping together anymore?"

"You've come home to me, then?"

"Would you care to be a little more specific?"

"Is there any fucked up thing you don't know about?"

"What? You're saying I've only got one friend?"

"Tell me about your father? What was he like?"

"You've done this before, right?"

"Who said I was joking?"

"You really believe this, don't you? That you're a vampire?"

"Why don't we just kill him?"

"Why is everybody so ashamed of sex all of a sudden?"

"What do you mean you're married?"

"Are you thinking of doing something that has an outcome you can't live with?"

"What is the point in tradition if one is constantly changing things?"

"I don't mean to pry, but is something troubling you?"

[transzilla]

You met me over grindr while I was in the city for a one night stand and for some reason we kept in touch, some glow around me that you really liked. Your living situation is a little crowded so we figured we would hook up in an empty bulldozer at a construction site at night. I work at a fire tower in the mountains and I really like other trans men but due to the geography haven't found anybody to stick around, so I tend to get around quite a bit when in the city.

Your living situation is tough. You've tried to go on hormones, or blockers, but keep being shamed and rejected and getting pressured out of it by distant family members or chaser-y roommates. You have no room to grow. You're fucking miserable. You contemplate offing yourself, guiltily, but quickly shoo the thought away considering you have a roof over your head and no real reason to be sad.

We text obsessively. I'm lonely out there, stealth trans in the middle of nowhere, and whenever I have service we text, call, vent, joke, bust balls, tell each other all our deepest, darkest secrets. They're looking to hire another lookout, my coworker retired. It requires you to live onsite and they provide housing without taking it out of your paycheck. I sympathize with your situation, I tell you you'd do well in this position, I'll put in a good word for you with the forest service, you should apply. Get you out of that glorified pig sty and somewhere with fresh air where you can finally breathe.

You get the job, make a fucking decision and leave everything behind to come work with me. We reunite, get drunk, get you accustomed to your new life. You talk to very few people and nobody seems to clock you as trans anyway. Your daily work is hard and manual but refreshing compared to customer service. You let me rail you every night, your food is taken care of, you're reading and working out and getting your back blown out on the clock.

Sometimes it feels like I make you do everything I'm supposed to do, I seem to enjoy watching you sweat and lift heavy things and slack on my work. I have a ton of testosterone that I share a little too excitedly with you and it doesnt look prescription, in small brown vials with blue caps, some of them are labelled cypionate but also proprionate, enthonate, undecanoate, demonic incantations you've never seen before in your life. And I'm real weird about always doing your injection for you. I stab it in so fast and it looks violent but it doesn't feel as bad when you do it, but the way I make eye contact and hold the needle in my teeth while I do my own injection is a little off putting. I'm constantly pushing you, nothing you ever do is good enough for me, all of my fetishes while we're fucking seem to entail you doing push ups naked, squats, bending over and letting me examine you, your legs getting so sore after im making you ride it, letting me squeeze your tits and feeling your pec underneath the breast. I smoke a pack a day and pressure you into joining me, complimenting you on how raspy and fucked up your voice sounds.

You have doubts. You aren't able to call your friends as often as you thought you would. When you talk to people you've been isolated so long you talk over them garishly, talk all about yourself, make too many dirty jokes and swear too much the way we talk to each other, awkward and unfit for civilized society. All you have is me and you have no choice but to trust that I have your best intentions in mind.

You let me teach you how to use a shotgun the salty perfume of the gunpowder staining your hands as your aim gets better and better, your guard lowering the more I've been praising you for doing what I want. We went hunting and you shot your first deer. I was so excited and you were so validated by how proud I was, it felt like a big hug from the inside out. You send a picture of the field dressed deer to your old city friends, guts steaming in the morning sun. they're absolutely disgusted by the fact that you would do such a thing and show them. You're a fucking machine of a man now and you're able to tame the wilderness everywhere except for in yourself.

After months you plain don't recognize yourself in the mirror. Your hair is wild, your facial hair not just a few long pubes jealously untouched on your chin but a uniform patchy stubble shaved haphazardly when you were tired of it being singed when you did fight fires. Knuckles scarred, shoulders broad, the gross muscle you feared you would develop rippling like a tiger under your skin and the extra weight you've gained. You talk like I do, you act like I do, you think like I do, you can't tell where you stop and I start. Your reflection looks sleepless, disordered, lost, a thuggish stranger. Heartless man.

[thornsnvultures]

loners and lovers

vampire!eddie munson x plus size!reader

cw: smut (18+ minors dni), biting, blood sucking, p in v sex, creampie, <1k w

a/n: for @mantorokk-writes 🖤

-----

Hot, breathy moans punctuated by the wet slapping of skin against skin echoes down an empty alleyway behind Eddie’s latest haunt. He’d picked this place specifically for its clientele. Transients, low lifes. Loners like himself looking for respite from their miserable lives.

Except for you. You stood out. Called to him in a way no one else had in a long time. He knew the moment he saw you that you weren’t the right pick. You looked like someone with family, with friends, if that constantly buzzing phone in your hand was anything to go by.

It was a mistake approaching you, even more so enthralling you into turning off that incessant device and following him out the back door. There was only so much his powers of persuasion could do. For the completely sober it was near impossible. It’s why he stuck to addicts, easier prey and a second hand high. You’d had maybe one drink? Eddie shouldn’t have been able to take you into an alley alone with a man you’d never met. Not someone like you. But you went like a moth to a flame. It would unsettle him if he had the heart to care.

No, part of you wanted him too. Wanted the danger and deadly seduction he offered. You arched and moaned when he pinned you to the dirty brick wall and kissed you like a man starved. And he was starved. It had been too long since the last time, but he had a willing victim in you. You, who leaned into his touch, his cold, dead fingers caressing your plump flesh.

His elongated nails dug into your hip. You only leaned into him more, craving the pain he inflicted. His dick twitched and filled at the thought of how you’d react when his fangs tore into your throat. Would you cry and scream? Would you moan and melt into his touch? He hoped you would. He may not have a heart but he knew what it was to crave and be craved. And he wanted you to want him with everything you had. Even for these few moments in the dark and dank.

Eddie spun you around, and pushed you up against the wall. With your front pressed to the bricks he nudged your feet apart with his boots. If he wasn't so starved, if he was anyone or anywhere else, he would fall to his knees and worship your cunt just like this, spread open and pushed out for for him to bury his face in and get lost for hours. But his hunger clawed at his throat, demanded it be satiated with your blood, not your juices.

He hurriedly knocked his belt out of the way and slid his pants down just enough to pull out his aching cock. It throbbed in his hand as Eddie pushed up the edge of your tight black dress. Your panties were easily torn off, like tissue paper against his claws, and in the next breath he was inside you. Eddie had to cover your shout of surprise with his hand over your mouth. He was in but you were so fucking tight, gripping his cock head like a vice. It took a few moments for you to adjust to his girth, panting around his fingers all the while.

"That's it, sweetheart. Take it. Take me in deep," he whispered in your ear. "Just wanna make you feel good. Let me in so I can make you feel good."

Your whines and the way your pussy fluttered around him let him know you were ready, you could take it. So he gave it to you, and hard. His hips slapping against your ass as he filled you over and over again.

Eddie couldn't wait any longer, the hot beat of your pulse was right there under your skin, calling to him like a beacon.

"I'm sorry, love," Eddie whispered and turned your head with his hand still on your mouth. With your neck exposed he lunged. Puncturing you at the same time he fucked into you, hitting that spot inside you with his cock that made you cry out. Only now you were crying from his fangs buried deep in your throat. Tears fell from your eyes as he drank but your moans didn't stop.

Eddie didn't stop either. His hips hammering into you at a brutal pace, the hand not on your face moved from your hip to your clit and, careful of his nails, rubbed you even further into a frenzy until you were coming around his cock, squeezing out the little bit of life he had left, until he was coming too.

Before he got greedy and took too much, Eddie pulled his fangs free. He pulled out his spent cock, admiring the way his come dribbled down your leg for a moment before righting your dress. He wanted to lick it clean, but your thrall would wear off soon and Eddie couldn't be around for that. He'd have to leave town sooner rather than later. As soon as he got you home safely. He'd make sure you forgot all about him. And hope he could do the same for you.

---

--

-

🖤

[atopfourthwall]

Geez Louise that was an aggressive response. I wasn't advising you on how to make everyone stop teasing you, mid level youtubers will always have jerks. I was talking about a proven method to deal with it in a healthy way- judging from your response alone I felt you needed. Think of its this way: you made that comic 17 years ago. Do you really want to be still getting SO angry and snapping at people in another 17? If not at LB but whatever else they'll come up with? But up to you, best of luck.

You're absolutely right it's an aggressive response. Maybe it was an unwarranted one... but your message was frankly unserious and unoriginal. Because your "proven method" is horseshit. "If you let people bully you, they'll stop bullying you." That's what you're recommending - be good natured about people insulting me. It is in fact not healthy to sit there and bear it and pretend I'm okay with it. I was quiet about it for a year or two before I finally started pushing back on it. I was miserable and it was affecting my mental health. They kept doing it - some because they honestly did not realize it upset me (and again, that's who the thread is for and I repeat - speaking out about is what got people to stop). But the other ones? "Do you really want to be still getting SO angry and snapping at people in another 17? If not at LB but whatever else they'll come up with?" Here is what you need to understand and I don't think you do: THESE PEOPLE DON'T FUCKING LIKE ME. They don't like my face. They don't like my voice. They don't like my show. They don't like my sense of humor. They don't like my hat. They don't like that I'm liberal. They don't like that I support LGBT+ people. They don't like that I analyze Power Rangers. They don't like me when I'm happy. They don't like me when I shout. They don't like me when I'm successful. They don't like that I was part of Channel Awesome. They don't like that I'm NOT part of Channel Awesome. They don't like my friends. They don't like me streaming. They don't like me criticizing truly awful people. They don't like when I don't dance to their little nickname. They. Don't. Like. Me. I am a joke to them - a clown, a living meme that they can throw my name out and it's an automatic laugh. I am not a person to them with thoughts and feelings and something that can be hurt. I am only real to them because they think I'm pathetic and they want to bully someone that they think is more pathetic than them. They do not and never will respect me. They see me as the guy who invented Lightbringer 17 years ago. That's it. That is all I will ever be to them... if I'm lucky, because these are the same kind of people who will try to find ANY weakness, anything that's slightly embarrassing I've said or done as a weapon... or just make up complete bullshit to attack me and make that into more memes against me, too. And the fact that you just refer to it as "teasing" me shows everything I need to know, frankly. Because that's all that it is to you - not something that was hurting me. Not something that was affecting my mental health. Not something that I respectfully ask people to stop doing because it makes me uncomfortable. Hell, your original message said I was "constantly" doing it. Two threads a couple years apart with a smattering of me asking one-on-one "Hey, can you not do this? It's actually intended as an insult." The assholes doing it to be assholes just get a block, because why the fuck would I try to engage with them? So yeah, if I'm aggressive in my response, I'm sorry, but your way is NOT healthy. Maybe my way isn't the right way for everyone, sometimes it CAN make things worse... but that's not the case for me and I get tired of bad advice from people who think they understand what's going on.

[netherworldpost]

the business of small business is good business

I remember when I left college, I had an interview at an extremely tiny, extremely prestigious design firm. They weren't hiring (they made that clear) but I was able to convince them to do a portfolio review.

"You could go into accounts, you're great at it. But you'll be miserable. You could go into advertising but you'll be even more miserable. You'll make more money in either of these."

"What should I do?"

"Great question, you're going to have to figure that out, your skills and personality don't fit each other."

(Accounts are largely the sales folks in advertising agencies -- they handle clients, they are part of a pitch team, etc. If you've watched Mad Men -- Ken Cosgrove, Pete Campbell, Roger Stirling were accounts).

This was... many years ago.

I ordered dinner tonight, from my favorite restaurant, and had it delivered.

In the intervening years from that conversation, I doubled-down on my tiny businesses. It's been a good life.

I'm in the elevator with my favorite restaurant food in a bag and someone who lives in my building, whom I don't know, gets on.

"{Name of the restaurant]," I offer as way of greeting. "Fantastic food, I always get [name of dish]. Ever been there?"

"No but it smells great."

(Hands the person the menu from the bag)

On one hand -- I know I need to slow down, focus, tighten the ship.

Four years of transitioning Evil Supply Co. (which operated like a mad scientist lab / mad engineer's lab) into Netherworld Post Office (an extremely focused greeting card, printable downloads, and zine company) have taught me a lot of lessons.

On some level though

I can't/won't stop.

With the very depths of my soul, I love small business. I love the diner down the street, I love my suppliers for the Post -- I purposefully scoped them out and chosen the ones independently owned.

I. Love. Small. Business.

It's so hard, it is so rewarding, it takes so much, it gives so much more.

Every time you shop at a small, independently owned whatever, you're helping your community (we pay taxes locally).

You're helping the community -- be it your neighborhood or a niche interest online -- stay, grow, thrive.

There is a time and a place for Giant Corporation Things and I'll never argue that. I'm not here to nay-say.

I am here to remind you, regularly, constantly -- and maybe too often -- the width of the line between everything looking the same, sounding the same, reading the same, tasting the same -- because it is mass produced to the palette of a wide audience --

the width of that line is relative pocket change in price difference and/or a few extra days shipping time between a big box shop and your weird fav whatever.

If you want the world to be weird and shaped to your specific interests?

Shop small when you can.

[daydreamgoddess14]

Support System pt. 6

MASTERLIST

CH1 | CH 2 | CH 3 | CH 4 | CH 5

Roy Kent x Reader

Are you ready? Cos we get really very spicy now my friends so.... be warned. Also, good god I think I'm in love with Roy Kent.

Chapter 6

She pushes the phone into your hand so you have no choice but to bring it to your ear, you still watch Roy who's moved to the otherside of the room. Your heart is still pounding and you feel like you've been given an electric shock. 

"Yeah?" You ask into the phone. 

"Can we talk?"

"Umm, we've just got back from the beach. I'll get Lexie settled and call you back?" You hang up without waiting for any real response.

"I'd better go." He says. 

"Thanks for a cool day Roy! Thanks for winning my unicorn teddy and the ice creams and for letting me go on your shoulders and… and… everything!" Lexie says jumping from foot to foot. 

"Thank you for the best day Lex. We should go again in the summer."

"Yeaaaaaah! Can we mum?"

"Of course we can bunny. Let's get you ready for bed, huh?" She zooms into the living room to gather up the new toys for her room while you see Roy to the door. "I'll see you soon?" You sound unsure, you've no idea where his head is at after the kiss. No idea where your own head is, really. You still feel a little dizzy from it and the coil in your belly is wound even tighter. 

"Yeah, see you soon." His eye catches the sunburn on your shoulders, now joined by beard burn and a little bite mark. He brushes it lightly with his finger and you can't help but lean into him. "Should have put some more cream on." He says quietly before closing the door behind him. You're left in the hallway in a weird limbo of being disappointed that he left and unbelievably turned on. It wasn’t fair, you should be on cloud 9. Instead, you head upstairs and concentrate on real life. You get Lexie into the bath and bed before doing the same yourself. You reluctantly pick up your phone to call Andy back, seeing that Sara has sent some pictures from the day with plenty of sunshine, ice cream and beer emojis on a group message to both you and Roy. There’s the kids playing in the sand, you and the girls looking at the shells you’d collected, one of you pointing and laughing at something out of focus - head thrown back, sunkissed and happy. In the picture, Roy is next to you but he’s not looking at whatever it is that’s got your attention, he’s looking at you. There are others - really great photos, a selfie of the three of you and then one of the five of you. They make your heart flutter. You respond with a heart emoji, not quite able to put into words just how much they all mean to you - and that’s without confronting your growing feelings for Roy. The photos were exactly what you needed for your next task. You press Andy’s contact picture and let it ring.

“Thanks for calling back.” You’re surprised, it’s the most civilised he's been for months. 

“Sorry it took a while. We both needed to get half a beach off us.”

“Did you have a good day? Did you go alone?”

“We went with one of Lexie’s friends from school. It was a lovely day.”

“She said you’re changing jobs.” 

“Yeah, handed my notice in last week. I’ve got about 6 weeks left.”

“You… don’t need to do that you know. Maybe we could work something out?”

“What do you mean?”

“I miss you.”

“Are you pissed?”

“No! Why?”

“You’ve been an absolute fucking nightmare for months - you’ve punished me and belittled me and shamed me for having a better job than you and what? Now I’m giving it up, you think we can get back together? Are you for real right now?” You’re trying to keep your voice down but you don’t think you’ve felt a rage like this in your life. Not even when you were both fighting constantly. 

“I just thought it would be good for Lexie, mum and dad together, making it work?” He mumbled.

“What’s good for Lexie is a happy family life - even if that’s separately. Making it work? Making both of us miserable more like.”

“I wasn’t miserable with you.”

“You had an odd way of showing it Andy. You’ve barely laid a finger on me for years, you criticise everything I do. I’m sorry, I can’t make Lexie happy by destroying myself in the process. I deserve to be really, really loved and you can’t do that. What’s this really about?” You’ve stripped away his arguments, Lexie being his trump card, he has no comeback.

“Lexie keeps talking about your new friends. I just thought… is there anything I can do to change-”

“No Andy, you’ll never change my mind on this. I wish I’d been brave enough to leave you rather than wait for you to leave me to be honest. We won’t talk about this again. Goodnight.” Absolute wanker! You hang up and grab a pillow to scream into. Jealousy, of course. You’d seen it briefly when you’d gone to his flat to pick Lexie up when she’d been poorly but because you’d seen him so rarely recently it hadn’t really registered. You could laugh, it’s only taken him the best part of 8 years for him to actually feel anything for you. 

The next couple of days are a blur of Easter holiday club for Lexie and work for you. There’s still no luck on the job front which makes you nervous, and Andy’s done you the decency of not calling you again. You’d naively hoped that he’d woken the next morning with a hangover and had been appalled at his own behaviour, but you also didn’t really care. Sara had taken to using the group message she’d sent the photos on for childcare planning - it made sense but it also meant that you didn’t have any other excuse for solely messaging Roy. When you finally unpacked the bags of junk from the beach day, you found his book rather than yours in the bag. You were picking the girls up that afternoon and taking Phoebe straight to her nans where Sara would pick her up. They came out of school with paint up their arms and in their hair from the craft activities laid on for them. You were looking forward to seeing Roy’s mum again and she welcomed you as she had before, with a huge hug. She was over the moon to finally meet Lexie who took to her immediately. When Sara arrived back from work a little while later, the girls helped her shake off her tiredness with a dance party (Taylor Swift of course) so the five of you - including Roy’s mum - were dancing around with music blasting, singing at the top of your lungs.

“Standing by and waiting at your back door, all this time, how could you not know, baby? You belong with me, you belong with me!” Until Phoebe screeched,

“Uncle Royyyy! I haven’t seen you for ages!”

“You saw me like two days ago you little weirdo.” He said surveying the chaos ahead of him. “Having fun?”

“It’s a dance party! Sara was sleepy so we needed to wake her up.” Lexie told him.

“Sara’s still sleepy but thanks for trying, guys.” She laughs.

“Come on Lexie-loo. Time for us to go.”

“But muuum!”

“No buts, we need to get you ready for dad’s tomorrow.” The two girls looked sombre that they’d be separated for a few days, but Sara grins at you over their heads,

“Freedom!” You get bags and shoes and say goodbye to Roy’s mum. You stop suddenly in the hall, not realising Roy was right behind you and making him bump into you. He puts a hand to your waist so he doesn’t push you over but it brings you flush to his chest. With his hand on your stomach, you know he had to feel the shuddering breath that leaves your body. You reach into your bag and turn to him, “nearly forgot, I ended up with your book.” 

“Keep it, I’d finished it. Did you finish yours?”

“Yeah, keep it. I promised it to you.” He watches you with dark eyes. You know nothing is going to happen, of course it’s not - there’s a house full of people, Lexie is behind you by the front door putting her trainers on. He nods once and puts a single kiss to your forehead.

“See you soon.”

“Bye,” you look over his shoulder intending to shout goodbye to Sara and her mum but Sara’s in the doorway, eyebrows raised and wide eyed.

“Bye babe, I’ll text you later.” She says casually with a look which is far from casual.

You have the following day off for a couple of interviews so you’ve arranged to pick Lexie up from holiday club and take her round to Andy’s yourself. You don’t really want to have to see him, but the plans were made before his pleas to try again. 

“Here’s your bag, bunny, your coat is inside. Be good, I’ll see you in a few days, ok?” You give her a big hug and kiss and she goes straight into the flat. Andy hovers by the door.

“You look good.”

“Thanks, I’ve had a couple of interviews.”

“Any good?”

“Not sure yet, we’ll see.”

“Ok well… good luck.” You nod, ready to escape but you can see he’s itching to say something else. “I just wanted to say sorry about the other night.”

“It’s ok, forgotten already.”

“Oh, cos I just wanted to check that you’re sure?” You shake your head with a little laugh,

“Yes, Andy. I’m sure. Please, don’t ask again. It’s not going to happen.”

“Right, right. Ok. Have a good week then.”

“Yeah, you too.” You leave his flat feeling lighter. You go back to your car leaving him behind, the clocks have changed so the evenings are light. Your drive takes you past the football club and down Roy’s street. His gate is open and the car is just inside. You turn in before you have a chance to chicken out. You ring the bell and wait. The double take as he answers the door means he didn’t see it was you on the doorbell camera,

“It’s you.” He states,

“Yeah, I was just passing. Is this a bad time, I can go?” You make to leave but he’s quick to stop you.

“No, no, of course it’s fine, come in. I was just cooking. Jesus, you look fucking gorgeous.” You leave your bag by the door and step out of your heels.

“Thank you. I’ve been interviewing today.”

“How did it go, what were the roles?”

“Still Deputy Comms Director. I’m not sure, it’s so hard to say. It’s been ages since I interviewed anywhere.”

“Did they give you any feedback?” Already your conversation with Roy is a complete contrast to Andy’s indifference. You have his undivided attention, he’s curious and interested.

“Not really. I think it’s just a waiting game. It’s so annoying, I only have about 5 weeks left. I’m worried that I was wrong to just resign with nothing to go to next.”

“Bold, not necessarily wrong.” He offers, pouring you a glass of wine.

“I think you’re being too kind there.” You laugh,

“Bollocks. If forced retirement has taught me anything, it’s that you have to accept what’s right for you. Sometimes that means it feels like you’re doing the wrong thing until it becomes the right thing.” You mull on his words while he cooks. The speaker is on quietly in the background while you drink your wine. It feels comfortable.

“Do you regret retiring?”

“Fuck no. My knee thanks me every day for it. I didn’t dare let myself think I’d actually enjoy coaching - I tried to make out like I’d hate it.”

“It felt like the wrong thing to do until it didn���t?”

“Exactly. You’ve got to trust yourself.” He puts a plate of pasta in front of you.

“Oh, thank you.”

“Don’t turn up at my house at dinner time and not expect to get fed.” He takes the seat next to you. 

“Tell me about the club. I’ve heard the rumours that Coach Lasso is leaving?”

“Doesn’t know what he fucking wants. He’s in love with the boss.”

“Really?! Does she know?”

“Nah, they’re both being idiots about it. Neither of them will say anything so he thinks the answer is to leave.”

“And it’s not?”

“No, he should tell her. Shouldn’t he?”

“Course he should. What happens if he leaves?”

“Not a clue. Guess I’ll find out if he ever makes a decision.”

“Not long to decide though. Maybe you should give him your ‘being bold’ pep talk.” You continue your meal together and help clean up afterwards. You didn’t have a reason for visiting in the first place, so you certainly didn’t have one to stick around, but he poured another glass of wine anyway. He seemed to be holding back from you a little, engaging in conversation about work and families but he didn’t once acknowledge the evening you’d returned from Brighton. You cleared your throat, “I had to see Andy today when I dropped Lexie off.”

“Oh yeah?” His frown deepened and unlike with Andy, you saw it immediately - jealousy. 

“Hmm. He, uhh, reckons we should try again.”

“Oh.” He picks at the label on his beer bottle. “Bet Lexie’s happy?”

“She doesn’t know.”

“How come?”

“Well I didn’t think it was a wise idea to tell my 8 year old that I told her dad to fuck off… so, there’s that.” He looked up sharply,

“You told him to fuck off?”

“Not in so many words. But I made it very clear that he should never ask me again.”

“Good. It’s probably not good for you - or Lexie - to keep dragging shit like that out and-”

“Roy?”

“Yeah?” You leaned up from your stool at the kitchen island and kissed him lightly. When you moved away, you watched him carefully, 

“If I’ve got this wrong again, I-” He stepped up to your knees, your tight skirt preventing him from getting much closer, and pulled you to him, kissing you so softly. It was entirely different to the first time he’d kissed you and yet felt just as desperate and wanting. He pulls your blouse out from the waistband of your skirt and leans back just enough to ask the silent question, are you sure? You’re not drunk, there are no kids to interrupt, no phones ringing… you know you’re sure, but you have to know that he is too. He anticipates what you’re about to ask,

“Course I’m fucking sure. You’re not wrong. You weren’t wrong last time. You were drunk, I didn’t want you to think I was taking advantage of you.”

“And now?”

“I’d really like to take advantage of you, that ok?” He says with a chuckle.

“Yes, definitely yes.” You laugh, relieved. He kisses you again and though you know you have all the time in the world, you don’t want to waste a single second. 

“Fucking gorgeous.” He whispers against your neck, “borderline obscene, actually.” You laugh at his stolen compliment. His deft fingers pull your top up and off and you’re thankful you wore one of your really, really good bras for good luck for your interviews. You both decide at the same time that the other is just not close enough, your damn skirt in the way. He takes your hand to help you down from the stool and circles your waist, “this looks amazing, but it’s in the way.” You guide his hand to the zip at the side while you step up onto your tiptoes to pull his training t-shirt off. The skirt pools at your feet and his hands cover you, trying to explore everything all at once. “Up.” He taps your hip,

“Are you sure?”

“Fuck off.” He laughs, lifting you anyway. He doesn’t take you far, only to the sofa where he drops down with you still in his lap. You sit up on your knees so you can take your weight off his bad knee but he grips your hips, puts you back down and sides you further into his lap. You can feel him hard against you and it’s never been like this before, you’ve never been with someone who has made their need for you so obvious, never made you feel so wanted before. This thought alone helps banish your insecurities to the very back of your mind. He kisses a hot, wet path down your neck to the tops of your breasts, your sunburn faded to golden, but the freckles remain. The sensation of his beard against your skin makes you moan and you can’t help but roll your hips into him. He grips you tighter, holding you against him. You reach down between your bodies to pull at the waistband of his shorts. He takes the hint and lifts you both slightly so he can get rid of them. With the shorts out of the way, he can feel the heat and dampness of you against him, “Fuck me-” he breathes, hands tracing up your back to the clasp of your bra.

“Yes, please, yes.” Your hands are in his hair and you pull him back to your mouth for another searing kiss. You have to let go while he takes the straps of your bra down your arms but you press back up against him as soon as you can, the hair on his chest rough against your skin. You grind your hips down again, desperate to feel him against you. His hand goes between you both and he stops to check in again before touching you. You cup his cheek and nod, a shy smile. His fingers find your centre and brush against you. You breathe his name and your eyes flutter shut. Two fingers slide inside you and you think that’s already enough to send you over the edge. You rock against his hand, your forehead against his.

“Open your eyes,” he rasps, “I want to see you.” The second you open your eyes, he presses his thumb to your clit and you cry out. He doesn’t let up, working you through your orgasm until you're choking back a sob. You catch your breath for a moment, but the need for him is overwhelming.

“Need you now, have you got-”

“I’m clean, constant fucking medicals. You?” You nod and he slips your underwear to one side. You lift up to line him up against you and slide down onto him slowly. The stretch is exquisite, too much and yet absolutely perfect all at the same time. You take him fully and pause for a second to revel in the feeling of having him inside you. He kisses you softly, “you feel incredible. God, you’re so beautiful.” He takes your hips while you set the pace but it doesn’t take long for either of you to reach the edge. You come again with his name on your lips and he’s right there with you, bruising your hips with his grip. You slump against his shoulder, nose against his neck.

“Holy shit,” you manage eventually, feeling him laugh against you.

“Yeah, you’re not fucking wrong.” He pulls a blanket from the back of the sofa and wraps it over you as you slip off his lap to sit next to him. Neither of you says anything, his hands run up and down your calves as you sit with your legs in his lap. He reaches over to tuck your hair behind your ear, “will you stay?”

“If that’s ok?” He gets up and takes your hand, pulling you with him.

“Come on, shower and bed. I’ve got training with Jamie at 4am.”

You wake up briefly to a kiss on the back of your neck.

“Back in a bit, go back to sleep.” He whispers, kissing your earlobe. You sigh happily and snuggle down into the bed, pulling his pillow with you. You hadn’t gotten much sleep, waking every so often to soft caresses and kisses. Your body ached in a way you’d never felt before. You slip back into sleep again, waking a couple of hours later to a cup of tea and warm arms around you.

“How was training?” You ask, voice still full of sleep.

“Painful.” He laughed. You sit up to drink your tea, sitting in between his legs, his back against the headboard and yours against his chest. “Can I ask you something?” He murmurs, a hand drifting over your thigh, you let out a needy moan, it’s almost absurd how he can make you want him so badly. “Remember I had that suit fitting? There’s a gala for work next week. Will you come with me?” You turn to put your tea down and then kiss him.

“I’d love to. Thank you.” You smile.

“I’ve got an hour. What time do you have to go?”

“Same.”

“Good.” He smirks, pulling you back down to him.

[mybworlds]

CHAPTER 11

status: ongoing

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: your life is full of 'must'. You live with your overprotective mother who controls every aspect of your life. You have a dream, to write romance novels, but love - real love - you haven't found yet. Your mother has even decided what you must do in your free time: play music. One day, however, when you go to your music teacher's house, you will have an unexpected encounter and from that day on things change…

Masterlist

rating: 18+ explicit (minors, DNI)

Before to start... Thank you for your support, for your likes and reblog, thank you, thank you, thank you ❤️If you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging and leaving comments 🫶 if you don't like it don't be rude and keep going. 😉 Please remember English is not my first language, so please be merciful! 🙏

Thanks @vase-of-lilies for the banner.

Taglist: @harriedandharassed

The next day you wake up against the door of your room, you don't know what time it is or what day it is, you don't have your cell phone, you feel dazed, your eyes are swollen which you open with difficulty, you only see that it is daytime because the sunlight illuminates your room, you barely get up and go to the window.

People walk quietly down the street, there are small groups of kids walking here and there, a couple of couples holding hands, a father and daughter walking hand in hand. You rest your hands on the window feeling miserable and burdened, you place your forehead against the window and close your eyes, you think of Joel, who knows if he called, if he wrote to you!

“You don't want to fly away? Then fly away,” you think back to Joel's words.

You hope your mother didn't read or see his calls!

Luckily you have the block on your phone.

You open your eyes again, walk to the door, and make to open it, but it's still closed.

“Mom? Mom open it.”

“I don't deserve this,” you tell her, wanting to use a firm tone of voice, but your tone of voice is shaky.

You hear her footsteps, and this time after a few seconds the door opens, your mother is wearing a red coat, her hair is combed back, she is lightly made up, and she is still peering at you coldly.

She doesn't speak; she waits for you to do so.

“I don't know what to do with you anymore.” she says in a defeated tone of voice “I thought making you attend my prayer group, making you take music lessons would make you better than your father, and instead…” she leaves the sentence hanging.

“Excuse me if I'm not the daughter you wish,” you tell her.

When she wants to hurt you, she compares you to your father.

You don't know exactly what he did, but it is certainly something very serious. Or so you have always guessed from her words and the tone she uses when she mentions about him.

Usually when she compare you to the other parent, you always told her what can I do to change your mind, she told you that you should study and try harder, be more obedient, and after a few weeks, serenity returned between the two of you because you got back in line, in her lines. Today, you don't want to say that statement anymore. It is not fair that everything you want is constantly repressed and belittled. It is not fair that she prevents you from seeing someone. You cannot allow that.

You don't want to get Joel in trouble, you can't.

Your mother sighs, then shakes her head.

“So who was the man Mrs. Bixby saw?” she asks again.

“His name is Jack.” you answer her “I met him when I was waiting for you at the end of my music class, I had finished a few minutes earlier and went into a bar to have a glass of water.” you tell her.

“We're getting somewhere.” she says hearing you confess “How long have you been seeing him? Have you seen him again? What does he do?” she begins with her many questions.

“Since a couple of months, Jack studies psychology. We've always seen each other in public places like the library, restaurant, diner, never here or at his home. Nothing has ever happened, if that's what you care to know,” you say finding a firmer tone of voice.

If she knew what you do with Joel.

“I'd like to meet him,” she says.

“Mom it's a little early, we don't know each other yet to have him come here to the house,” you try to dissuade her.

“I insist!”

You lower your head, you don't have a choice. By now you have to do this or your mother would start again and forbid you any kind of outing.

“All right,” you reply not at all enthusiastically.

Instead, she seems to visibly calm down, “Fine,” she says.

“Where are you going?” you ask her.

“I go to church.” she replies and then she turns her back on you, “Ah, your damn cell phone has been ringing nonstop!” she exclaims.

You leave and make to go to the kitchen to get it back, but your mother once again stops you with her words “I saw there are messages from your friends and at least two from Joel Miller. None from Jack. It's kind of strange that he's not looking for you, isn't it?” she says making you freeze.

“We had a fight two nights ago,” you reply, shrugging your shoulders.

“Well, I'm going then.”

“Joel, when are you coming?” you ask him not answering his question using an alarmed tone.

You nod, when you hear the door close you resume breathing normally and run to unlock your cell phone. You call Joel immediately.

“Baby, finally!” he exclaims in an alarmed tone “I was scared for you. You okay?” he asks you.

“I'm home. D' ya wanna me to pick you up?” he asks you in the same tone.

“No. Um, listen,” you check the door, “my mother suspects something. I can't make you come down here to me anymore, I'll come to you. I'll wait for her to go to the hospital tonight and then I'll sneak out. Okay?”

The door opens and you immediately close the phone pretending you are going to get some cookies for breakfast. Your mother is back, she forgot something she tells you and then goes out again. You breathe a huge sigh of relief, then go back to look at your phone and text Joel “Sorry I ended the call, I couldn't talk. I wish I didn't have to force you to go through this… “

Joel calls you back, you answer.

“You're going to tell me everythin' tonight. 7 o'clock 's okay for you?” he tells you.

If you could, you'd run straight to him.

“Yes. See you tonight,” you tell him, “Bye.”

“Miller careful with that or you'll end up without something very dear to you!” exclaims his colleague, the only female presence on the site, the only friend Joel has and who knows all about you and who has eagerly seen your presence in his friend's life.

Her name is Tess, she pats Joel's shoulders to call him to attention, he looks up and she smiles at him.

“Hey.” Joel greets her thoughtfully, the man is splitting bricks, but the cuts are inaccurate.

Tess stays behind him, “What?” asks Joel.

“Those bricks need to be split four inches farther apart, and then the angle is wrong.” Joel snorts, “What's the matter, Miller?”

“If you want to talk, I'm here,” Tess says again, lighting a cigarette.

“Nothin'.” his tone does not convince Tess, who grabs a rickety chair and sits down. She says nothing, just observes Joel continuing that wrong slanted cut.

Joel snorts, actually you are his fixed thought, at first he was attracted to you because of your sweetness and great insecurity towards the world, towards everything that was unknown to you and he couldn't help but think of your eyes and its endless expressions of astonishment, joy, fear, but also desire and love as you you know each other. When you met, he would have thought anything but to think so much about someone after what had happened to his daughter Sarah and then with his partner! Indeed, when his brother Tommy had asked him to tell his pupil that there would be no more meetings, he never thought he would meet a sweet, pure and fragile girl like you, never thought he would find himself captivated by you, never.

Joel gives her a sidelong glance, “There's not much to say.” Joel picks up the hammer breaking another block.

“Is it about her, isn't it?” she asks.

Joel nods pronouncing your name in a whisper with such delicacy and sweetness as if you were the most precious gem in the world to him.

“I would like to be strong for both of us,” Joel says, throwing the hammer just farther, “but the truth is that knowin' her in danger, in this state of duress, hurts me. What I want is to hold her in my arms and tell her that I will always keep her safe with me.”

Joel quickly realizes, however, that this is not possible. You might have been thrilled about it, but while he himself would have been very happy about it, he still has a lot of doubts about how right it is to bond you with someone like him.

“Did you tell her about Jess?” Tess asks him, taking a puff of her cigarette.

“Yes.” Joel replies immediately, moving away from there and toward the scaffold. Tess follows him in a half-step, “I told her in a nutshell that it didn't end in the best way between us.”

“Did you also tell her she's around and from time to time you see her?” she asks him, resting her forearms on the scaffold's balustrade. Joel gives her a long, penetrating look that counts as an answer, which is no.

Joel still cannot talk about her unfiltered because to do so would mean talking about Sarah, and Sarah is a chapter of his life that he does not want to share with anyone. Unless he has to.

“I know you were really bad first about Sarah and then about Jess, but maybe with her you could-”

“Tess, do you mind if we don't talk about those years of my life at all,” the tone of his voice does not allow for different replies.

“All right.” Tess says “I had felt that you cared particularly for her.”

Joel sighs heavily. He is trying to remember why he still addresses the woman. At that moment it escapes him.

“Yes.”

“If it was a sex thing, I wouldn't have told you to talk to her about who-you-know.” she adds “But from what I understand it's more than that.” the man looks at her with an enigmatic gaze and Tess's eyes go wide “You haven't yet-- oh my God, then this is a serious thing!” she exclaims with a half-smile “And who would have expected old Miller to fall in love again!” she exclaims again patting the man's shoulder who rolls his eyes shaking his head.

Joel looks toward the buildings still under construction, he doesn't like to talk about his feelings, he was never good at expressing them if the situation was clear. Let alone today with you who are so much younger than him, you are absolutely inexperienced and naive! Nonetheless, Joel can't do without you or think about you.

Evening comes and Joel is in great apprehension about you: your voice, your tone were strongly cracked, your words had put him in a state of great agitation.

He has tidied up the house at the least, ordered Italian food, and he's waiting for you with great impatience.

When you knock on the door, he immediately runs to open it. Joel does not even have time to greet you, that you pounce on him, encircling his neck with your arms and burying your head in the crook of his neck. Joel wraps both arms around you and holds you tightly to him, closing his eyes.

“Baby.” he whispers in your ear then kissing one forehead “You're safe.” he tells you increasing his grip even more and then sinking a hand into your hair “My poor baby.” he repeats, you can't speak, you feel overwhelmed, you just stay in that position and inhale his strong scent.

You have, the two of you have, chills.

You can't separate yourself from that embrace, you don't know what to say to each other, but maybe that embrace is worth more than many words.

You eat in silence and only afterwards, when you are on the couch, you lying with your head on his thighs and him gently stroking your hair, you tell him what happened with your mother, you tell him that you are afraid to be there, that you would like to get out of there, to run away. You've always felt this state of oppression, but never as tightly as the night before.

“Please go away. You can come to me,” he tells you.

You look at him with a surprised look, you had thought about your friends, but certainly not him.

“Joel, I…”

“Think about it, but I don't want to know you're in danger. If something happened to you--” you raise your head and stand beside him "I could never forgive myself."

“Sssh,” you say as you sit on his lap, resting a finger on his lips, “I'm here now.”

He gently kisses your fingertip making your skin crawl, you smile at him and then pounce on his lips.

“I would stay like this all day,” you confess to him, afraid to put your foot out the door of his house because you know that once you are out everything will go back to the way it was before and you will go back to being the one forced to act a certain way, to be a certain way. You don't want to, you don't want to. But you have to.

Spending the night in his bed gave you back an ounce of courage that your mother had previously deprived you of, breathing in his strong scent relaxes you, being hugged by him all night long makes you feel good and peaceful all of a sudden. In the morning you wake up like this still hugging each other: you have your back to him, he still holds you tightly to him, you open your eyes, your eyes still pinch a little from the loud crying of the night before, but you feel better already. You feel him moving just behind you, mumbling some unintelligible words, and you find yourself smiling and turning slowly toward him with your face and then your torso. You watch, thanks to the first light of dawn filtering through his bedroom window, his face still stretched out, his lips parted, his beard growing.

You find him wonderful.

You don't want to disturb him, but you can't help the urge to caress him. You gently stroke with your fingertip the contour of his face, his angular nose, the barely noticeable wrinkle between his eyebrows, his forehead, his beard, then his lips.

Joel begins to wake up, smiling and muttering “Gmrning.” you find yourself smiling back before returning his greeting only to find your eyes in each other's. Those sweet chocolate eyes settle on you, he smiles at you and then holds you tightly to him again, you find yourself smiling at each other and exchanging sweet kisses, gently caressing each other.

“I'm here for you. If that's what you wish…” he smiles at you, caressing your face this time with a finger "you will be granted." he says placing a finger on your lips, you gently press your lips against his fingertip without looking away from his eyes. You love to see how the expression in his eyes changes when you do something especially good for him, how his eyes seem to get bigger and darker. Which happens even now.

“Joel…” you say without finish your sentence.

He whispers your name, he pronounce it with desire.

You bridge that very short distance that separates you at once, your lips rest against each other, they open in unison, and your tongues dance at first softly then almost wildly, it is a kiss that takes your breath away.

You wish he would touch you, you wish he would do more-- but you feel it, Joel is like he is always holding back with you. Maybe it's you who has to help him.

You take his hand and bring it to your breast, you know you will drive him crazy. Indeed, his breathing becomes shorter and you find yourself smiling into the kiss. Glad to have provoked a reaction in him.

“Little girl…” he says to your lips, his tone of voice should be a sort of a warning or do you imagine that's what he means using that tone, but you deliberately ignore his tone and instead you look him in the eyes for a long time before saying, “Will you teach me to make you feel as good as you did with me?”

His eyes become if possible even darker, “No.” he answers you dryly “Not yet. You're not ready.” he adds, swallowing.

“You're afraid.” you say moving away from him, he turns supine “You're afraid to cross the line with me, aren't you?” you insist, he looks at you “Well, we've already crossed it. I touch myself because of you, if I have to say it!” you add feeling the heat on your cheeks "You make me feel so good, why can't I do it with you too?" he doesn't answer you, he looks at the ceiling.

You also turn in a supine position, you look away. You don't say anything, you don't know what to say. If he doesn't want to, you cannot make him.

“You don't trust me.” you say after what to you seems like hours of silence, you turn completely away “All right.” you add feeling a knot in your throat, you first feel him move to the other side of the bed then you feel a hand caressing your side and finally you feel a strand of hair move and a kiss behind your ear. You shiver, wanting to hold the point, but you already know you won't last much longer, not with him kissing that sensitive portion of your skin and then moving down to kiss along your neck.

More shivers run down your spine as his unshaven beard brushes against your neck, you turn toward him finding yourself lost in a kiss again. He almost pulls you toward him, you groan from surprise and also from the arousal that is spreading inside you and spreads even more as he towers over you completely. He breaks the kiss and you find your eyes meeting. His hot breath breaks against you and you find yourself closing your eyes.

Like other times, anything could happen out there, but if you are with him you really don't care.

He places a kiss on the tip of your nose and you smile. You smile again.

“D' you wanna try somethin' new?” he asks.

You open your eyes nodding.

He sits in the middle of the bed, you also make to sit, but he shakes his head saying, “Stay down and lemme do it. Honey, if you feel uncomfortable, if you have any pain, stop me right now, okay?”

“What is this about?” you ask him leaning on your forearms.

He looks at you, “I want to touch that your tight little hole with my fingers.”

You flush more at his dirty tone of voice than at what he said, “Haven't you already done that?” you ask him uncertainly.

“Not exactly.” you look at him questioningly “I've only touched a small part of you, I'd like to go deeper.” you swallow “If you don't wanna to-”

“No, no!” you quickly interrupt him “All right. What should I do?” you ask him.

He leans toward you caging you in his arms, he lays a quick kiss on your lips and then returns to sit in the middle of the bed, “Can I take 'em off?”

You nod as he lays his hands on the elastic of your shorts, looks you once more in the eyes as if seeking your consent once more, consent which comes immediately by just raising your pelvis allowing him to remove your shorts and briefs in one move, remaining completely naked from the waist down.

It's not the first time he touches you, but this time you are completely exposed to his sight and it sends more discharges of arousal all along your body especially noticing his equally lust-filled gaze.

“Are you aroused yet?” he asks you.

He pounces on your lips almost sucking your lips and tongue together, you groan in surprise at that kiss so different from the others, “You are beautiful.” you tell him through your lips feeling him smile and looking into your eyes.

He grazes your nose with the tip of his nose, “You are perfect, baby.” he comments leaving a trail of moist kisses along the line of your jaw and then down your neck.

You drop your head back, blissfully surrendering to his lips and then to his hands gently resting on your breasts, moaning softly as you close your eyes.

You nod, “Yes.”

“Lemme see.” he says and then caresses with his left hand your thigh, then your inner thigh and finally there, your intimacy, you squeeze your eyes shut, he hasn't touched you yet and you already feel those familiar tremors inside you.

“You're already soaked.” he says, you open your eyes and look at him questioningly, “Is that wrong?” you ask him puzzled.

“Absolutely not.” he replies running a finger along your intimacy causing you to hold your breath “It means you're already ready.” he explains repeating the same motion back and forth, you find yourself biting your lower lip and clenching your toes feeling an ever-increasing heat spreading to your lower abdomen.

“R - ready for what?” you ask tremblingly, but curious.

“For me.” he answers you with lust-filled eyes as he continues that precise, slow movement “Relax, don't be afraid.” he tells you noticing your tense expression.

“I am not afraid.” you reply looking into his eyes, and it's true you know that whatever he will do, it won't hurt you. You know that you are safe with him and that you would do anything with him.

“Now I'm going to insert my finger inside your cunt,” you swallow “I'm going to do it very slowly, if you have pain or feel uncomfortable, tell me and I'll stop.” he says scrutinizing your face carefully, his gaze tense, focused, full of desire. You nod barely trembling with desire.

Slowly he slides inside you first just the calloused fingertip as you almost jerk to feel part of his finger inside your taut and tender flesh, you tremble with desire, a boiling desire that reverberates in every cell of your body; he stays like this for a while then slides the phalanx inside you, you drop your head on the pillow feeling you are in a world out of the ordinary, you find yourself spreading your lips wide as if searching for oxygen, moaning softly.

“Jus' a lil more.” he warns you before inserting the phalanx inside you. You clench the blankets in the fist of your hands and moan softly, “You're so excited, my baby.” you feel him kiss you on the lips, but you can't kiss him back, you're seeing stars behind your eyelids, it's indescribable.

Then, he sinks inside you again and you open your eyes suddenly, you look down and seeing his finger fully sinked inside you is an even more arousing sensation, feeling his long, thick finger reach such intimate parts of you makes you wet even more “How's it goin'?” he asks you.

Your vision is almost blurred, you are at a loss for words, you just nod.

He leans over to you and kisses you gently on the lips, slowly lets his finger out inside you and this hollow feeling makes you moan into his mouth, then slowly slips his finger back into you making you moan again. He repeats this movement with a slow rhythm that makes the desire inside you grow faster and faster. You moan surrendering to the pleasure he is giving you with that relentless rhythm of his, lips parted and completely exposed to him. Then, with a confident movement, Joel also touches your throbbing center sending you more discharges of pure lust, you no longer know what to focus on, whether on his finger touching hitherto unexplored areas of you or on the palm of his hand caressing your clit.

Hearing you moan against him makes him instinctively close his eyes and breathe deeply, he feels the contractions of your next climax squeeze his finger and the lust spreads strong inside him, he would have liked to make you cum in his mouth or around his cock, but he still has to restrain himself.

“How d' ya feel?” he asks after a couple of minutes of silence, giving you a cloud-light kiss on your neck as the waves of climax slowly leave you.

Your climax explodes violently causing you to gasp and clench the blankets even more tightly in your fist. The room suddenly becomes silent.

There is only your shortness of breath.

“Fine.” you reply, still nodding with your eyes closed.

He slowly kisses your forehead, then your cheek and finally your lips. You open your eyes and exchange a sweet smile.

“Would you like some breakfast?” you ask him after a while.

“Pancakes?” he offers.

You smile, “That'd be perfect.”

He nods chewing, “And that is?”

You slip back into your briefs and shorts and go downstairs to make breakfast.

You found out one more thing about him: Joel is a disaster in the kitchen, first he forgot to add milk to the mixture, then he dropped an egg on the floor in short you did nothing but laugh during this rocambolic breakfast preparation.

You manage after almost an hour to sit at his kitchen worktop eating your pancakes, you add some honey, raspberries and blueberries. You eat in silence, only exchanging long glances, then after you bite into the last piece, you tell him, “I've been thinking about the title of my story.”

“Bittersweet.” you reply, smiling at him.

You see him swallow, “What's it about?” he asks you.

“It's the story of a young woman and her music teacher, a man who is apparently an asshole, actually very sweet and who will help his student to become more and more confident,” you tell him in outline, turning to face him.

He smiles conspiratorially, “That reminds me of somethin'.”

“Huh, yeah!” you exclaim, returning that look and his smile.

“D' you wanna start writing now?” he asks you.

“Do you mind?” you ask him.

He turns to you, then gently taking your chin between his fingers he says, “If you ask me with these sweet eyes, I can't say no.” you lower your gaze for a moment, “Well, I'll take the opportunity to take a shower and then put up a couple of shelves in the living room. You set up wherever you like, here, in the study above, in the bedroom, wherever you like.”

What did you do to deserve such a man?

“Do you mind if I sit on the couch in the living room?” you ask him, this is his house and it seems more than fair to ask his permission before moving anywhere you want.

He leans toward you giving you a sweet kiss on the lips, “Wherever you want.” you smile, then lays his forehead against yours and takes his leave. He sees you turn on the computer, cross your legs and lay the laptop on your lap. He sees you open the program to write, Joel has never understood much about computers and stuff like that, he has always been an analog guy, always loved manual work.

Joel goes into his bedroom and lies down on the bed, feeling alive. He is feeling good for the first time in a long time, living the little moments of everyday life with you makes him feel good, alive and special. He didn't believe that someone like him after all he has experienced could again hold someone in his arms who makes him feel welcomed, loved, who tries to make him feel good, it is a wonderful feeling.

He breath deeply, the scent of you is still strong in his room.

Joel was about to give in earlier when you had asked him to pleasure him, was about to say okay, but that wouldn't have been right. Joel becomes more and more aware that yours is not just a physical attraction, yes of course there is that too. Yet when you are apart he cannot help but think of your scent, your eyes, your smile, your sweetness, your need to be welcomed, cuddled, loved.

“Fuck…” he says, resting his forehead against the shower wall.

He feels his cock throbbing at the thought of your narrowed eyes and wide-open mouth, as he was pleasuring you with his fingers for the first time, the memory of you so tight and wet causes him another jolt. He undresses completely and goes to the shower, he opens the water jet and finds himself thinking that he would love to have you here with him, he imagines what he would do if you were there together. He'd press you against the shower wall and you'd look at him with those wide eyes of yours in surprise, he'd kiss your neck and you'd close your eyes, he'd press himself against you and kiss every inch of your body, he'd feel you tense up and beg for more.

How he would love to have and give more!

He wraps his taut erection in his fist, the roar of the water covers his moans, his heavy breathing, the image of you clinging to him, your arms encircling his neck, he imagines you giving him pleasure. He grits his teeth to disguise the long moan that comes out of his mouth as streams of his hot seed fall partly into his fist and partly against the shower wall.

He washes himself thoroughly, then gets out of the shower. He dries off, puts on old jeans and a black T-shirt he usually uses to do chores around the house, and comes downstairs. He sees you drinking a glass of water in the kitchen, he reaches you out and he wraps his arms around you, and you smile sweetly at him, “How's the writing of your masterpiece goin'?” he asks.

“Don't tease me now,” you reply to him, setting the glass down in the sink.

“I'm not teasing you.” he says giving you a kiss under your ear “If 's something of yours, it's certainly unique. Beautiful. To me, a masterpiece.” you turn to him finding eyes in each other's eyes, he places a kiss on the tip of your nose, you chuckle "I hope everyone gets it, that you can work up the courage to sign up for some classes and they'll notice you, that they can read you sooner or later." he confides.

“Then I wouldn't be here with you anymore,” you say in a huff that makes the two of you feel sick.

Joel lays his hands on your forearms, he strokes you gently, then slides his hands behind your back, “I don't wanna you to be confined here. In this small town. You deserve places like Seattle, Los Angeles, New York, or even Europe. You deserve the world. I wish you could see all the wonders there are,” he tells you.

“You are all the wonder I want in my life,” you tell him.

“Oh, baby.” he says holding you in his arms and placing kisses on your cheek and forehead “You're so sweet, so…” he dips his nose into your hair and you close your eyes, you don't care what he wanted to add, the important thing is what you told him. At the moment you like to write, but you don't want to get away from him, you couldn't stand a world where he is not there. For you it would be intolerable.

[darcytaylor]

There is a pattern to these fandom freakouts that's quite frankly become exhausting. Every time L hasn't posted in a while, trolls come out of the woodwork, posting shit affecting his loved ones, hoping to spur him into action. This is what happened last time with the HBS likes. Every time there's info or even so much as a hint that he's still with A, a smear campaign against him is launched, without fail. But if he posts something about Bton, all is forgotten in seconds, he's suddenly uwu babygurl Lukey Newts, perfect boy. Every. Fucking. Time. This is what happens whenever a celebrity isn't doing a little monkey dance for the fandom. And it's such a weird thing - if they're obsessed with someone, it doesn't necessarily mean that they love or even like them. In which case, I would like to kindly ask - why are they even here? Like, what are they hoping to get out of this experience?

Personally, I'm tired of going into any Bton fandom space at this point, hoping to see what's new and hopefully have a good time, and getting bombarded with literal nonsense that will be disproven within hours yet will somehow linger in the collective fandom memory and become a building block of increasingly unfounded theories that have diverged completely from reality, yet get regurgitated as fact every time new info emerges. They always find a way to contort even the most benign piece of info into intractable timelines of things that have been given meaning that they simply don't bear. Literally if you were to pull a thread, the whole thing would fall apart. Yet, these same things get resuscitated every time the fandom is mad at L or N or whoever for not doing whatever it is they think they should be doing.

The entitlement is mind-blowing and the rinse-repeat cycle of chicken-littling over the minutest thing is sucking every bit of joy out of being in this fandom anymore. It has become more time-consuming just trying to curate my experience than actually consuming content I'd like to see. What is even the point anymore, folks, huh? Would your own lives withstand the same kind of scrutiny you're putting these people under? They're just trying to make entertainment and a living out of it, what's the point of ruining everything? Whence even the urge? None of this is that deep. Is everyone just a miserable fuck anymore? I'm sorry for ranting, but it's become not worth it for me anymore when May was such a blessed time. Why can't we all stay in that energy? What good could possibly come of this? Thank you for listening and take care of yourselves, everyone.

I totally get where you're coming from. Fandoms can become overwhelming, and it sounds like you're feeling really drained by all the drama and negativity. It’s hard when a space you used to enjoy turns into a battleground of speculation, entitlement, and frustration. Your feelings about how fans treat celebrities and the constant cycle of drama are completely valid. I've noticed this pattern as well. It’s disheartening when every action or inaction of a public figure is scrutinized and twisted into something negative. Luke might not have handled everything perfectly, but the extreme reactions often reflect a lack of empathy and misplaced expectations.

It’s also frustrating when fandom spaces are overwhelmed with misinformation and sensationalism. This is why I found myself rolling my eyes at the information coming out yesterday. People should be more mindful about the sources of their information and why it’s being spread. The effort to sift through and debunk myths can be more exhausting than just enjoying the content. Constantly having to defend yourself or distance from the negativity to keep your enjoyment intact is disheartening.

It’s tough when people criticize you for trying to view the situation from a different perspective and not just join in the attack without knowing all the facts (or at least a good portion of them). It’s definitely tiring. I was feeling this yesterday because of the asks I was getting.

Remember, it's perfectly okay to step back if the environment is no longer enjoyable or is affecting your well-being. Fandoms should be a place for sharing enthusiasm and connecting with others who feel the same way, not a source of constant stress and conflict. I hope you find a way to rekindle your enjoyment of the fandom or at least find some peace with it. Take care of yourself and focus on what makes you happy. ❤️