#id climb him like a ladder
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Vincent Price and Peter Lorre -
Tales of Terror; The Black Cat (1962)
#vincent price#tales of terror#peter lorre#the black cat#black cat#edgar allan poe#roger corman#cat#cats#how cute is this#love these guys#love this movie#Vincent is so fucking fine#so tall so broad so bisexual#i desire him carnally#so sexy#id climb him like a ladder#GOOD LORD#horror#old horror movies#vintage#movie#actor#handsome#bicon#bisexual#gif#gifs made by me
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This is probably the worst place to introduce yourself and proposition your devil deal. Brother the ambiance here is a guy screaming in the agony in the background
#In the goblin camp#was going to climb up the ladders to get a high advantage and shoot the drums unnoticed but then he shows up???#why didn't he corner me at that bridge like he normally does???#Also say hello to Anita ig#s/he's a halfing spore druid#If the game would let me id make him look more fungal and freakish lloking
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NIGHTS LIKE THESE — [hoo boys drabbles]
summary: how they react to your bad dreams.
author's note: i wrote leo's + jason's part imagining that the cabins/barracks have individual rooms sooo...also ik this trope is so ran through in the pjo fandom but it's just toooo good i couldn't help myself
percy jackson
percy has always been the type of person to pick up the phone no matter the time. even as he’s on a lone movie marathon and the scene reaches its long-anticipated climax, he’s reaching for his buzzing phone that’s lost beneath the sheets. having found it after the third ring, percy checks the time and the caller id. why are you calling him so late? he answers, “hi babe. i thought you had to wake up early this morning, why are you awake?”
“hi percy,” your voice was shaky and congested, as if you’d been crying. percy immediately sits up, alarmed at the state of your voice, “did i wake you up?”
“no, no, i was up watching movies. what’s wrong? is everything okay?” he’s seated at the edge of his bed now, anxiously awaiting your response.
you force him to sit in silence as you think of an excuse, “yeah, um…i’m okay. i just wanted to hear your voice. but i’ll see you on thursday, okay? goodni-”
“(y/n), what’s going on?” percy runs a hand through his hair as he heads out of his room to his kitchen. he rips off a napkin from the roll and snatches a pen from the drawer. on the napkin, he writes a brief message to sally, saying that he’d be over at your place and not to worry.
“nothing. i’m fine, percy,” you mutter. but your boyfriend knows you too well. the way your voice quivers makes it sound as though you were trying to convince yourself that everything was okay, and you were failing miserably.
percy places his phone between his ear and shoulder as he ties his shoes, “don’t leave me in the dark, (y/n).”
“don’t worry about me. i’m fine it was just-”
“babe, i’m coming over, okay?” and with that, percy hangs up.
he’s walked this path over a hundred times, usually for dropping you off after dates or simply for hanging out with you. but this time, all percy can think about is how you sounded over the phone and that he needs to seriously pick up the pace.
upon arrival, percy climbs up the fire escape ladder as quickly and quietly as possible. it’s only now that he’s grateful for his experience from all of those laborious quests. reaching your floor, he knocks delicately on the glass.
“percy, what are you doing here?” you ask after he closes your window, “i’m sorry, you really didn’t need to come all this way. it’s like three in the morning and you-”
your boyfriend silences you with a gentle kiss, “i’m okay. it’s you i’m worried about. what’s wrong?”
“it was just a dream.”
“just a dream?”
“yes, it was just a stupid dream.”
percy grabs your shoulders, forcing you to look at him, “(y/n), you’re one of the strongest people i know. so if you were crying over it, then it really must be something.”
you slump on your bed, and percy joins beside you. it's no use hiding it from percy, so with a sigh, you confess, “well, you’re here now. but it just felt so real,” your eyes begin to prick with tears again, “you were laying on the floor…and there was just so much blood, and i tried to stop it—i really did try—but it just kept coming and there was nothing else i could do.”
honestly, percy didn’t know what to say. but he did know that if your dream was anything like the ones he had about you, they were emotionally and physically crushing. so, he decides that if he can’t say anything, he’d rather show you. percy gently guides your body, until the both of you are laying down. with a strong arm wrapped around your figure and the other rubbing slow circles on your back, he can only hope you understand the message he’s trying to convey.
“i’m here, (y/n). everything’s going to be okay,” percy continues to whisper sweet nothings into your ear. slowly but surely, your crying mellows into only soft sniffles.
as you lay on his chest, you can feel the rise and fall of his breathing body. it wasn’t at all like that dream of yours; his cold body eerily still on the floor. not at all like that. you allow yourself to slowly drift off with the rise and fall of his chest, strangely as if it were its own lullaby, “thank you, percy,” you manage to whisper.
“i love you, (y/n). i’m not leaving you, ever. i promise,” percy whispers back.
leo valdez
leo’s used to waking up several times in the middle of the night. considering the demigod dreams, he hasn’t remembered the last time he’s gotten a full night's rest, which is why he’s not surprised to be awake at the crisp hour of two a.m. he can’t even remember the dream this time, but leo bets it was another dream foreseeing his imminent death or the end of the world.
as he stares at the pipes and wires running along the ceiling of bunker 9, a familiar ringtone sounds from his phone. leo quickly wipes the sleep from his eyes and picks up the phone from his nightstand, “(y/n)? are you okay? it’s so late.”
there’s a silence, followed up by quiet sniffles. were you crying? “hi leo, i’m sorry i probably woke you up didn’t i? go back to sleep, i was-”
“no i was already awake, what’s wrong?” the moment your boyfriend noticed your shaky voice, his attitude completely changed. suddenly awake and full of energy, he tears off his blanket and reaches for his hoodie and shoes.
considering the fact that you never really call so late alarms him. you calling either meant that you had a nightmare or you were hurt…and leo prayed it was the dream.
“i’m sorry…” you take a deep breath, “i just had a bad dream, like one of those dreams, you know?” leo knows all too well what you’re talking about, and if it’s anything close to the dreams he has, he can only imagine what you’re feeling, “but i swear i’m okay now. i’ll see you later?”
but leo’s already out the door as you finish your explanation, “i’m coming over, stay there.”
“wait leo-”
he hung up.
the trek through the forest was usually something one would avoid, especially at this hour, but leo couldn't give less of a shit as he thinks about you crying in your room. a few minutes later after practically sprinting to your cabin, he arrives. locating the window to your room was easy, he’d done this several times before for your sleepovers. leo knocks as quietly as he can on the glass, hoping he doesn’t disturb any of your other siblings.
surprised, you pull your curtain aside and are face to face with none other than your boyfriend. he looks sweaty and out of breath. leo ran all this way? pushing your question to the side, you rush to open the window and let him in.
for the first time, leo really gets a good look at you. your eyes are red and puffy; you look at him with such desperation and he can’t help but pull you into a rib-cracking hug.
“you actually came.”
“what? of course i did, (y/n),” he takes your face into his hands, rubbing soft circles on each cheek. suddenly, tears begin to flow freely down your face. was it something he said? was he not supposed to come?
you pick up on his confusion, “i’m sorry, i’m just…glad you’re alive,” leo sits you on your bed, and continues to wipe away the tears, his concern growing with each passing second. your boyfriend urges you to go on, “it’s just the same thing every night. i’m at your grave on the hill, and i’m all alone and it’s raining and i just-”
“(y/n), breathe,” leo pulls you into his chest once more. he holds you so impossibly tight, ensuring that you know he’s there and he doesn’t plan to ever leave. his sacrifice during the final battle against gaia will forever be amongst one of leo’s biggest regrets. not because he had saved the world, but because of how hard it impacted you. without a doubt, you could easily say that those months where leo was gone were the hardest times of your life. and not a day goes by where leo thinks he can ever forgive himself for it, “i’m here. i’m alive.”
you nod, your sobs turning into quiet hiccups. leo moves the two of you guys to be laying down, and as final reassurance, he gently guides your hand under his hoodie, allowing you to feel his steady heartbeat. your boyfriend’s skin is warm to the touch and you count his heartbeat…one…two…three. and that was proof enough, “you’re alive.”
“i am,” leo soothes. he places a gentle kiss atop your head and pulls the covers over your bodies. his arms wrap tightly around your figure, holding you close, “sleep, (y/n). i’ll be here in the morning.”
jason grace
it’s late nights like these that jason has slowly come to appreciate. these scarce nights where he’s completed his praetor duties for the night and he allows himself to indulge in some self-care, which usually consists of a cup of hot herbal tea and a good book.
usually, jason prefers historical books, oftentimes concerning roman myths or the occasional diary of some war general. what can he say? he likes to be all-knowing when it comes to these things. but this time, as he’s curled up in his bed, he reaches for the book that you had recommended to him: a classic romance novel. jason laughs to himself as he recalls you teasing him about his taste in literature. if he remembers correctly, you called him a “history-loving freak?”
just as jason’s about to open the book, an unexpected ringing sounds from his phone. he huffs, momentarily disapointed. that is, until he sees who’s calling, “(y/n)? hi, are you okay?”
“oh, hi,” jason noticed the way your voice sounded off, like you’d been crying, “i didn’t think you’d actually answer.”
confused, he puts the book back on his nightstand, “of course i would, my love. what’s going on? you sound like you’ve been crying.”
“no, everything’s okay i just…” you pause, “had a bad dream, so i wanted to listen to your voicemail.”
jason’s heart squeezes at the thought of you going so far as to listen to his own ten second voicemail as a method of comfort. but the feeling goes away just as quickly as it came upon hearing you had a nightmare, “oh i’m sorry, my love. do you want me to come over?”
“no,” you reply, “it’s okay. i’m better now that i’ve heard your voice. you can go back to bed, jason.”
despite you declining his offer, jason’s already up and putting his shoes on, “i’ll be there in a few, okay? i love you,” and he hangs up.
within a handful of minutes, jason reaches your cohort’s barracks. the square windows look impossibly similar, but it’s all thanks to practice that he recognizes yours. even as praetor, he still has to enforce the rules and sneak around. with a quiet knock on your window, he waits in the dark for you.
“you’re here. you’re alive, jason,” is all you can muster up as your boyfriend stands tall inside your room. his expression is clearly written with worry as he closes the gap between you with a hug. as hard as you tried to fight it, the tears came again in a fresh wave.
“yeah, i’m here, (y/n). i’m not leaving,” he replies, concern laced in his words. jason notices your tears and gently wipes them away, “c’mere, tell me about your dream,” he beckons, guiding you towards the bed. with a gentle plop, he settles down and opens his arms, inviting you to join him.
settling against jason’s chest, you take a shaky breath as he places kisses on your temple, “i was at your funeral, and you looked so peaceful, like you were sleeping. i just can’t stop thinking about how you looked asleep. and then they expected me to, you know, give a speech in front of the entire camp about you, and i just…i can’t imagine a world without you, so please, you can’t leave me like that.”
“woah, woah, (y/n) i’m okay, breathe,” jason hushes you, rubbing soft circles on your arm. to be frank, he’s pretty shocked about what you had just said. he can’t get over how shaken up you are by this. but jason can’t even blame you, because if it were him who had the dream, he bets he would also be like this, “i’m here and i have no plan of ever leaving, okay? i’m afraid you’re stuck with me for the rest of your life,” he jokes, hoping to get at least a smile from you.
jason’s joke succeeds as he feels your body shake with a quiet giggle, “good. i wouldn’t have it any other way.”
your boyfriend checks your face once more, ensuring that you’ve stopped crying. seeing that you have, he places delicate kisses on each cheek, “hey, how about we go to sleep now? i’ll read you that book,” jason motions to the book on your nightstand, which happens to be the same one you recommended him.
you nod tiredly, “only if you do different voices for each character.”
“of course, only for you,” jason quips.
after adjusting your bodies, jason reaches for the book and opens it to chapter one. but before he begins, he pulls the covers completely over your body and places a chaste kiss on your forehead, “i love you so much, (y/n). and i hope you know that i’ll always be here for you, no matter what.”
#percy jackson#leo valdez#jason grace#percy jackson and the olympians#heroes of olympus#percy jackson x reader#leo valdez x reader#jason grace x reader#percy jackson x y/n#percy jackson x you#percy jackson fanfiction#percy jackson imagine#heroes of olympus x y/n#heroes of olympus x reader#leo valdez x y/n#leo valdez x you#jason grace x y/n#jason grace x you#jason grace fluff
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mouthwashing ages headcanons
daisuke is 23. young but notable age to be a full on adult with no job or no furthered education yet.
anya is 28. also young. generously giving her 10 years after college age to try and get into med school 8 times. this is her second or third voyage.
jimmy is 38. hes got "baby" friend all over his face, but him and curly are still around the same age. handful of years shit outta luck/in jail in his early 30s before curly got him the job for a few years now.
curly is 40. older out of the two friends, pretty solid age for being successful captain who regularly takes year long voyages and climbed the ladder to the top. perfect age for his midlife crisis.
swansea is 49. 13 years a drunk after 21, then 15 years to become a "better" man. id like to imagine he never broke his sobriety since that night, so hes not any older.
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THE Life of Us/Drifting MUSIC VIDEO IS AMAZING 👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼
I think one can make an entire essay long post trying to explain what the scenes could mean. I’m glad that XZ was able to meet and work with a director like LIN who was able to execute this. I can only imagine the creative ideas XZ had for this and to have someone understand his vision and bring it to life is special. It’s so obvious the time, effort and money spent on this and we got it for free. The entire album is free to listen to. I just. Everything about this drop is such a slap to the antis who said it will be 9 covers and 1 original song but XZ goes bitch hold my beer lemme give all original songs and high quality music videos. oh wait, let me write some of the songs too. let me put in some details in my life there just to make it fun. how about that?!
which leads me to those said details/references that someone has compiled. i’m gonna share it here. 📝
P1: the person climbing a ladder in the clouds is something he drew before. I’m proud of him cause this idea of his has been realized. this reminds me of jack and the beanstalk!
P2: the books are design related. i’d like to think it’s his favorite go-to books!
P4: Knitting yarn! XZ knits!
P5: this is pretty obvious and recurring theme when it comes him - the little prince 🌹
P6: more of a comparison from when he was designer xz to now. he was wearing something similar.
P7: Life of Us = Life of Pi. Which is explained more in P8. OP mention that the main character Pi said when writing in his diary: "Everything has become chaotic and broken, I can no longer distinguish between daydreams, sleep, and reality.” The movie/book is a story about a young man who survived a shipwreck and drifted on the sea.but the deeper level seems to be a discussion about human nature, animal nature, and divinity. It’s about the struggle between ego, id, and superego.That tiger may be Pi's heart. What is drifting on the sea, for Pi, is me and "I"; and Pi, It seems to be the epitome of every "us". Finally, Pi told more than one version of the story, and he asked: "Which version do you prefer?" In fact, the choice of the story has always been "me".
"Life of Us/Drifting" sings "What is a dream, what is my greatest fear" "What is a dream, what is what I want most" It’s a question about your own heart, and only you can give the answer.
P9: that scene in the movie ET
additional ones, his favorite paper plane making an appearance and a similar shot from the animated film castle in the sky.
and i noticed that one take where you can see some vintage things like the telephone, but i realized that xz is almost the same age as me so these are things we grew up using!
i’m sure there are more details here and not to mention the hidden meanings too. but that is what makes this video so fun to watch multiple times! you can discover something new each time! I hope they release some behind the scenes on how this was created and all that. i think there should be a documentary of sorts connected to this album if i remember correctly. so yeah! so much more in store for is when it comes to this album 😊
#xiao zhan#xiao zhan big brain 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️#COME ON GIMME A MUSIC VIDEO FOR LIGHTHOUSE PLEASE HAHAHAHAHA#IM SO GREEDY BUT WE ARE ALREADY HERE SO WHY NOT
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you know i adore you (3)
TEEN!gojo x FEM!reader (soulmate AU)
TW⚠️: gojo's being a little manipulative, angst, mentions of death and blood, mostly fluff tho
1: what you see, i see
2: where you go, i go
A/N: gojo is so 1989 coded
Her phone had buzzed for the tenth time during her student council meeting, and for the tenth time, she ignored it. She didn't have to look at the caller ID to know who it was.
Who knew Gojo Satoru would be so clingy? And here she thought she would be the one hanging on his coat tails. Not that they were dating because they weren't. They were friends with emphasis on friends - she had decided that after the high of finally seeing each other face to face.
The morning after was very clarifying for her. She tried to remember her dream the night, only to realize that Satoru had not slept the entire night - he had been watching her sleep the entire night. It was especially clarifying when her mom knocked on her door, and she processed that not only did she have a strange boy in her room, but that he was also soaked in blood. A hectic morning of her hiding her soulmate in the bathroom. It didn't help that he was complaining the entire time - it was a miracle her mother didn't hear him.
Fact of the matter is it would be irresponsible for her to start seeing him romantically without actually getting to know him first and she was a responsible person. So responsible that for the time being, she had to put student council duties first over her friendship with him, especially with the festival coming up.
She would call him after the meeting was over, "Now, do we have everything prepared for the festival tomorrow?"
Everyone nodded as they checked classrooms, and fixed decoration, and they put up the banner outside of the school that would be welcoming everyone in. After this task was done, she would leave.
From atop a ladder, she tied the elastic ribbons into a bow and smoothed the banner over with her hand, "Everything alright on that side?"
Her peer smiled at her from the other ladder directly on the other side of the banner, "Yeah!"
She climbed down the ladder and looked at their handiwork. It was perfect. All that was left was to go get her things.
One of her classmates giggled besides her, "Your boyfriend's here again."
"Who's boyfriend?" She asked.
The girl pointed at the entrance of the school, "Yours." She smiled cheerfully at him, "Hi, Gojo!"
And there he was, walking over to them - pouting.
This was her fault she should've known he would show up if didn't at least answer one of his calls or texts.
"We've been over this." She said, "He is not my boyfriend."
"Does he know that?" The girl said.
Another classmate chimed in, "Why not? he's super cute."
She hoped Satoru hadn't heard that. His ego was big enough as it was.
A pair of strong arms wrapped around her waist as he nuzzled his head in her neck, he said, "Yeah, I am super cute. Why not?"
Of course, he heard them. He looked at her expectantly over his glasses. He really was adorable when he wanted to be, enough that all of her classmates (boys and girls alike) practically swoon for him when he does anything.
She ignored him, "Meetings over. Everyone, go home."
Satoru huffed in annoyance but didn't let go of her, "Why don't you answer your phone?" He tilted his head so she could see more of his vibrant blue eyes despite his glasses, "A text would've been enough."
She fought the urge to run her hands through his hair, "I told you I had a student council meeting today." She twisted in his arms to face him, "and I told you that I wasn't going to be able to call or text until after."
He buried his face in her neck again and groaned, "Yeah, yeah, yeah, you did."
This was a little more than friendly, she knew that, but she also learned at the beginning of their friendship that he also didn't know what personal space was. Besides, she would stop him before he got too far, but she would admit, she liked it when he daringly pressed his lips on her neck to test just how far he can push the boundaries she had set for them. But today, she would enforce them.
She tugged his head back from her neck, "I have to go get my school bag, Satoru."
She stilled as he leaned in and kissed her in the corner of her mouth. Another thing he did to see how far he could go.
She pursed her lips, "That's more than friendly."
He raised an eyebrow, "You mind today?" And let out a dramatic sigh, "it's cause people are watching, isn't it?" He shifted all of his weight on her, "I'm a dirty little secret!"
She finally hugged him back. Not to actually hug him but keep them from toppling over.
She heard footsteps and giggles as her classmates walked past her and Satoru, "Yeah, he's totally not your boyfriend."
She saw a glimpse of Satoru's cheeky smile before he stuck his lower lip out and rubbed his cheek against hers.
And like clockwork, "Aw~"
She glared at her peers, "Do not encourage his behaviour."
They all snickered as they left.
She rolled her eyes at them and grabbed Satoru's cheeks with one hand forcing his lips to pucker as they looked at each other, "Stop." She pushed him off of her and finally, went to go get her belongings.
She sighed when Satoru slipped his hand in hers. If she pulled away he would whine for the rest of the day, so she let their fingers intertwine.
His eyes wandered away from her from time to time. She closed her eyes for a second. Little spectres were staring at them, peeking their heads from their hiding spots, and whenever, Satoru directed his gaze at them they'd duck back into their hiding spots in fear.
Oh.
She opened her eyes and quickened her steps. Her soulmate kept up with her new pace with ease. She opened the door and quickly picked up her school bag, but Satoru took it from her hand before she could sling it around her shoulder and swung it over his instead.
"Those curses shouldn't scare you. You know, they're too scared to come out and hurt anyone," he said, "They're too weak."
She grabbed her phone from the table, "You know I can't see them the way you can."
He pressed a kiss on her temple, "I can handle them, no problem."
She rested her head on his arm. He was right if any curse dared to rear out their ugly heads against them he would excorcise it easily. She was safe. They were safe.
She flipped her phone open as they walked out of the school.
47 MISSED CALLS from Gojo Satoru
He was not serious.
83 TEXT MESSAGES from Gojo Satoru
Oh God.
2 TEXT MESSAGES from Geto Suguru
Geto.S: He's being insufferable
Geto.S: Answer so he'll stop whining to me and Shoko
She shoved her phone in his face, "For real?!"
"You weren't answering!"
She shook her head as she went through the text messages.
Gojo.S: Wanna go check out the new boba place <3
Gojo.S: Whatcha ya doing? :3
Gojo.S: Oh right student council
Gojo.S: How long is it gonna to take?
Gojo.S: it's been 30 minutes :(
Gojo.S: Pls answer the phone </3
Gojo.S: meeting boring
Gojo.S: Ditch :D
She skimmed the rest of texts until she got near the end.
Gojo.S: The decorations look great!! :b
Gojo.S: r ya seriously going to check every classroom?
Gojo.S: For real?????
Gojo.S: ______ <3
Gojo.S: Suguru punched me :(
Gojo.S: kiss it better pls
Gojo.S: How much longer?????
Gojo.S: A ladder for what???
Gojo.S: :'(((((((((
Gojo.S: <////////////3
Gojo.S: I'm heading over there
She flipped her phone close, "You are such a stalker, Satoru."
He gasped offendedly, "I am not."
"Yes, you are."
"Am not!"
"Really?" She said, "What about the time you were literally watching me sleep for hours?"
"I wasn't myself that day." He quickly added, "and you were sad all day! What kind of soulmate would I be if I didn't let you know I was okay?"
"How'd you know where I live?" She retorted.
"It's a cute little bakery!" He smiled, "how is anyone supposed to miss that."
"Uh huh," she hummed, "suuureee~"
She was right, Satoru had somewhat stalked her that day and with how empowered he felt - he tracked down the very little cursed energy she did have with his six eyes.
"You stalk me too!" He pushed back.
"Hardly."
She was lying, but there was a difference between his stalking and her stalking. She only wanted to make sure he was safe. After what happened a few months ago, she couldn't help it and she only stalked him when he goes on missions not for everyday things like he does.
"Liar," Satoru said, "I can tell. I have really good eyes and senses."
She blushed, "It is not the same." Stupid six eyes, "You stalk me for no reason."
"It's not for 'no reason' - I miss you." He readjusted the straps of her school bag on his shoulder, "Besides, you don't have to worry about me like that anymore. No one can get the jump on me like that again."
She knew what he meant: I'm stronger now. Don't worry, I'm not dying anytime soon, and he was right. Nothing could touch him anymore unless he wanted it to, even her. Still, he didn't know what it felt like to have him gone from her soul. It wasn't a fading feeling of him slipping away - No, it was violent and soul wrenching - he was viscerally ripped from her. She was left cold and alone with her heart being the only one left beating. She was with him the whole time when he was desperately trying to learn and understand reverse curse technique to heal his bloody and dying body. All Satoru knew was that she cried.
Soft lips pressed against her cheek and then to the other. It was so sweet, so wonderful she hadn't realized she was crying.
"Is that why we aren't dating yet?" He continued to kiss her tears away, "you scared?"
She hadn't cared for him then and she fell apart. Imagine the damage it would do to her if she was in love with him? Her lip quivered at the thought. With a shaky breath, she buried herself in his chest in a hug, and nodded.
Satoru soothingly ran his long, slender fingers through her hair, "My girl's a bit of a little cry baby, ain't she?"
Her heart fluttered, my girl.
"I have every right to cry," she mumbled stubbornly in his chest.
He kissed the top of her head, "Yeah, you do." He tilted her chin up so she would look at him, "Boyfriends give more kisses you know."
She smiled as she wiped her tears, "No fair, I'm emotionally vulnerable right now."
Satoru's lips pressed ever so softly on hers. It was barely even a kiss, but she melted in his arms all the same. It would be so easy to fall into him and he would catch her every time. Yet, he pulled away and rested his forehead against hers.
She was right. He shouldn't take advantage.
He sighed... if time was what she needed then he could wait a little longer.
Part 4: i'm crazier for you
Gojo: y'all be scared to double text? Not me! Ding ding ding it's me again bitch!
Part 5: baby, you're the life of the party
Part 6: something's made your eyes go cold
Let me know if you wanna be tagged!
@phoenix666stuff @96jnie @mr-underhills-things @whatamidoing89
#gojos got that annoying rizz#he just wants to be her boyfriend#but hes stuck in the special friend zone#special cause friends do not do what they do#reader is a bit of a crybaby#leave her alone she's trying her best#i dont think geto gonna turn evil in this au tbh#this is happy au me thinks#gojo satoru#jjk#gojo satoru x reader#teen gojo#gojo x reader#jujustu kaisen#jujutsu gojo#part 3#a part 4 if anyone wants it#gojo might be a little out of character???#geto makes an appearance#jjk soulmate au#suguru be like#if you dont come get your man#i gonna 🤜 gojo
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omg hi if it wouldn't be a bother i'd love if you could expand on your perspective on curly's character representing how patriarchy, rape culture, etc, negatively effect men?
I think Curly is there to represent the idealic person for the scenerior but in a lot of wrong place wrong time and a sort of deconstruction.
Curly’s enabling is never just the “He wouldn’t do that, he’s my friend, I know him.” type. Yes, he is not nearly as concerned as he should be with Jimmy’s behavior but he’s not completely blind to how he can be and is aware that Jimmy is just a guy who had it rough. He clearly is very keen on keeping Jimmy calm for the trip, very accommodating to all of them in a way that he honestly should be but can be used to explain away favoritism. If everyone can get away with a little something than it can then be extended to Jimmy. A big problem of Curly’s is he extends to much curtesy to everyone which a lot of people ignore to just focus on Jimmy and his relationship.
In specifics of rape culture, he’s the sad truth of people don’t immediately cut off the abuser. There is a lot of this in irl cases that can range from the inability to open the selfish not wanting to but here it’s because his relationship with the abuser is also not healthy/abusive, falling into the former with how confined they are despite how it can be seen as bros protecting bros due to how underplayed emotionally unhealthy relationships between men can be. His relationship with Jimmy is not just one of wanting to protect him from himself but keeping him docile, safe to bring around others. There is a tension in almost all of their private scenes where Curly is trying hard to make sure his words are understood and don’t set him off. It’s subtle but real and an aspect of RC that gets overlooked when it’s comes to men coming forward themselves or on behalf of others. The way they can’t directly oppose each other because their safety may be the least of their concerns. They know men and in this case he knows this man won’t target him but the others, especially Anya, case point: not wanting her to tell Jimmy alone.
There is an inherent intimidation that can also happen in male spaces we see Jimmy use due to the specific social condemnation effect he has with Curly. Even if he is a bad friend to Curly, he is a dear friend and a lot of apprehension with men on the side of Curly in RC comes from that social anxiety, that fear and the very real idea you or the person you were trying to help will be further retaliated against/isolated just like we see happen to an extreme in canon. We don’t know how much Curly and Jimmy interacted between the party and the crash. We can assume they didn’t at all or perhaps went on as normal, but we know something changed after the conversation with Anya both at night and in the cockpit.
I think the card being in the locker shows he was gonna make the complaint, taking her ID to get her numbers for the report as it isn’t there before hand. With the recent reblog of how complaints have to be filed, he was likely storing it, possibly it was close to a time he could send something if it was even possible. Though everything was inevitably too late.
Curly is the ideal man on paper in terms of a patriarchal system. In shape, handsome, the top of the pecking order, competent or otherwise on top of his perineal duties. The issue is he is deeply unhappy just as someone like Jimmy who reflects all the negatives. This should be what he wants but he’s realized it’s unfulfilling, boring and he’s given up too much of himself to get up a ladder he doesn’t even remember why he climbed in the first place. He is not keen on keeping that status, I am a contrarian in thinking he honestly didn’t care if the report when on his record, more so he was in shock it happened at all. Didn’t want to believe his friend actually did it and he of all people would have to be the one to turn him in for it. It’s selfish and it’s a personal thought but it’s real. It’s denial because even if you know it’s for justices sake, you grieve the friendship you had and the perceptions that were shattered. It’s not supposed to sound good or noble or kind because it isn’t, it’s human.
All together I think Curly represents a big way these systems negatively affect the men that everyone assume benefits. He’s unhappy with the power he has because it ties him to responsibilities that bring him no fulfillment, he also gets retaliated against by Jimmy because he was never immune and in a way was aware of it. He’s unequipped and nervous to handle such a delicate situation because it isn’t protocol, there’s no protocol. He followed the rules of all the concepts mentioned, trying to do the right and normal thing and it either left him with nothing to show for it or damned him and others in the end.
This is a shorter post than I would write but I just feel like I’ve tackled these aspects so much individually or in lumped together posts that unless it’s something specific I will just create run on tangents.
#catching up on asks#sorry I’ve been inactive little anxious because of finals and writing is both freeing and hard to focus on#but break is so soon so fuck it we ball so hard that shits cray#mouthwashing#ask#mouthwashing game#curly mouthwashing#captain curly#I feel like I just say the same shit over and over again#and it’s no fault to the questions I get I’m just like idk#I feel like a lot of what I post and talk about is obvious and people get wild interpretations from specifically taking things out of#their very important context or only applying one rule/sentiment of the story or actions of the characters to one instance#and either disregarding them in another just for feel goodness uniqueness or just cause of personal gripes#idk but thanks this got my brain thinking again#btw curly is like a beautiful butch lesbian to me like disclaimer I make all fictional men I like#women in my mind so if I talk about him crazy that’s because one I don’t respect men and two that’s a woman#anon#I respect Anya too much to be cray cray about her she makes me sad cause in the end everything was futile for her and I hate that
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Twisted Romance
The Stephen and Emily are the ideal couple who should be at my feet one way or the other because I fucking say so bitch, by the way my neighbor came walking down the block with excitement in their minds as they pivot towards me. They decide to turn away from the door as they are going to run the other way out of my yard with such excitement, love and lust blowing up in me and all I can think of is their downfall and it is absolute everythingI want.I patiently waiting by my window as the dark lit sky of night covered with beautiful stars blowing up in the sky as I slip the window open upward and I sneak on to the roof top and the close the window as I slip to the yard. I race across to the other side of the house to the backyard as I brace the back of the wall climbing up to the ladder firmly sat on the back wall and to the top window as it is connected to his bedroom as I slip through the window open.
I climb in slowly landing on the floor closing it in a fevering pit of power my desire powers up as I rise to my feet standing fall I watch over him licking my lips and retrieving my hands digging deep in to my pocket and grab my flashlight. I laugh bit pressing the button as the flashlight shines as I am walking towards the bedroom using the chain to hand over his bed clicking it’s chain as the light shines extremely brightly on to their eyelids.I blink my eyes as a signal hits my senses as the computer chip inside of it in my eyes I can now sense the device blows up shining on to both of their foreheads as they make very odd facial expressions but soon they are beginning to settle. They lights become laser straight in to his forehead borrowing deep in to both of their minds as it shoot downward spiral through his skull and breaking through his consciousness, subconsciously and inner mind (id) and they both slumber deep and their eye kids pop open.
“We are ready “
“Begin consumption of my programming “
“Process commences”
“We are connected “
“Mind chip completed”
“Start human to doll transformation “
“Yes Master”
“We are your toys “
“Please program us”
“Sir Yes Sir”
“Consciousness are you ready?”
“What is your order?”
“Begin personality erase”
“Password please “
“Pussy doll, Masters toys”
“Yes Daddy begin
“Mmmmm…”
“Oh fuck!”
“We are hard, please make us cum “
“Zip it! I own you “
“It is my choice now “
“When I say cum you will explodes “
“Your entire being will be permanently gone”
“Sir Yes Sir!”
“Ffffuuucccckkkk!”
“Sssshhhhiiiiitttt”
“We are empty
“We are yours”
“SHUT UP!”
“Yes Sire!”
“You belong to me “
“Rise up!”
“Lay on your pillow “
“Face me! I am your focal point”
“We are yours “
“We love you, please use us “
The couple invites their favorite bestie super hot couple who dreams of seduce them to hook up and that is to my great advantagewhen they invite them over to their home for a weekend. I set my plan in to action as they race to go pick then up at the airport they are heading to and back to my place I open the door to my bedroom in a huff and sitting in my chair happily spinning to face the computer. Rolling my eyes I grab my laptop flipping it open as I press the on button the sound is reversing up so loud with a bing shaking me out of my concentration and I press the app shape like a spiral and it pops on clearly it shows me the set up. The spiral app is all ready as I turn on the settings flick a few of the buttons reorganizing the app for my own purposes as I place a another I press and the ear pods switch on their friends pod and their minds turn off.
“Master Lawrence is speaking”
“I am your God”
“The real king”
“I am your everything “
“Your world “
“The entirety “
“I eat up your mind “
“Consume your soul “
“You both know me”
“We are connected “
“We are one
“One soul”
“One mind “
“One body”
“One like “
“We are united “
“Forever in place “
“Sir Yes Sir”
“What do you desire most?”
“I want to serve you “
“Who are you ? “
“Your humble slave “
“You are a puppet “
“My property “
“You will submit to me “
“Give me all”
“Be at my beck and call “
“Love only me”
“Be at my will”
“Do as I please “
“You are for me”
“Madly in love with me”
“Be my everything “
“Best friend “
“Lover and worship”
“I am your everything “
“Master Lawrence! We are ready for you! Stark naked in the bedroom.”
The end
#stephen amell#tyler hoechlin#emily bett rickards#bitsie tulloch#hypnosis#mind control#reprogramming#hypno slave#hypno submission#mind control slaves#mind hack#minds eye#mind warp#empty mind#rehabilitation
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hot & heavy
chapter nine: jesus christ 2005 god bless america
neighbor!joel x f!reader
series masterlist
series rating: E (18+ MDNI)
series summary:
over the course of three summers, joel miller becomes woven into your life. the first summer is spent falling for him; nannying his daughter and sneaking around with him in a burning love affair. you know how you feel about joel, he isn’t so sure about how it all is gonna work. the second summer is brief. a month spent at home after graduation and before you move to boston for your dream job. one look at you, one time hearing your voice, and joel is hooked again. he pines over you for that month, but you think — how is long distance of over a thousand miles going to work for a single dad? the third summer, you return home burnt out and pride bruised from your post-grad life. you need time to feel at home again, like your complete self, so you’ve come back home with no return ticket booked. it’s only a matter of time before joel seeks you out, slowly spending more time with you. without an inevitable end to the summer looming over you both, what chances are you willing to take?
word count: 9.5k
warnings: NO OUTBREAK (don’t need to worry about the mushies), no use of y/n, inexperienced reader, age gap (joel is 30/31, reader is 22), canon-divergent (sarah is 7 y/o), nanny au, pet names (sweetheart, darling, sweet girl, mariposa, etc.), polite southern manners, feeling familial and self-pressure, undefined relationship, small use of spanish cause joel is latino, pining joel, fingering, hand-job, dirty talkkk king joel miller, soft soft soft joel, sprinkle of possessive joel, Big Feelings, crying, mentions of depression diagnosis and symptoms, struggling with self, discussion of co-parenting, signing away parental rights, effects of that situation on children, major guilt form both of 'em, this chapter has some heavier angst than before!
a/n: they're baaaaaaack <333 my babies! it's 2005 and summer #3 is officially underway and i can't wait to share it with you all. thank you so very much to the bestie/cousin/sister wife/sweet, sweet gf @northernbluess for beta-reading this chapter, and for shouting about these two with me. enjoy y'all x
You can count on your two hands the number of times you’ve been able to talk to Joel over the last year. Sarah’s schedule going into third grade was much busier, his work picking up even more business and expanding. Your job was demanding — long hours, coming in early and staying late, rejection after rejection of ideas you excitedly pitched. By a few months in, you took the hint: you were there to get coffees, do the grunt work, fill in the gaps even if it wasn’t in your job description. It wasn’t that you had a problem with doing all of those things; anyone in the industry, basically anyone with a corporate job has told you that you have to do your time, climb the rungs of the ladder to get to where you want to be. But it’s hard to justify a job that has taken you away from the one place that feels like home, the people who make you feel loved.
It came in waves at first, that feeling of heavy limbs, slogging thoughts, the perpetual cinch of your chest as if you were going to cry, with no reason to. In summer, it was easy to blame it on homesickness, adjusting to a new city, or getting used to living with your new roommates. The leaves changing brought new symptoms: staying in over the weekends, curled up in bed with the TV playing cable reruns for 48 hours straight, the lull of sleep overcoming you at odd hours. But this was merely because the cold was creeping in, and the daylight hours were waning.
Joel called one winter evening; well, the Caller ID read his name, but upon answering the phone, you were quick to realize it was someone else.
“Hello?”
“Posey, you answered! Hi!”
“Hey, Sare-Bear. What’s going on?” You find the means to prop yourself up on your pillows, turning down the volume of the TV and curling your knees toward your chest.
“Not too much, I asked Daddy if I could call you and he said yes, so I did! I was sad you couldn’t be home for Christmas last month. Santa brought me lots of presents! Oh, and Daddy took me to Disney World with Uncle Tommy after Christmas before school started again!”
Sarah’s chipper voice is scraping nails against your heart, tightening your lungs until all you can manage is shallow breaths. You hold it together long enough to hear about all her presents and the Miller family trip before you hear Joel in the background, coaxing the phone from his daughter.
“Daddy says he wants to talk to you so I have to give the phone to him. Bye, Posey, miss you!”
“Miss you too, sweet pea,” you choke out, sinking further into your bed with eyes filling with tears. You should be overjoyed to be hearing from Sarah; instead, it fills you with a reminder that you have no idea when you’ll see her again, no clue how to try to make yourself love this place.
“Hey, Mari.”
The sound of his voice was syrupy, the drawl in his tone basking you in the Texas sun that you missed so. He was like the warmth of a bonfire, the summer breeze messing with your hair while you rode in his truck with the windows down. Hearing him was like sinking into his mattress for the night, a solid, weighted arm slung around you safely.
“Hi, Joel.”
“Gotta say thank you again for the watch you sent me for my birthday. I know, you’re going to say that I’ve already said it about ten times but I need to do it again 'cause I just like havin’ a reminder of you every day.”
“You’re welcome,” your voice wavers slightly, and you make a quick attempt to recover with a deep breath.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
No, not now, you can’t break now, you have to make it through the phone call.
Your tongue sits heavy in your mouth, your ears growing hot and tears pricking your eyes in pain as you hold it all in. One sniffle comes over you before you can catch it, concern lacing the other end of the call.
“Hey, darlin’—Hold on.”
Muffled thumps of footsteps heading upstairs crackle through the phone, the creak and click of a door closing popping in your ear pressed to the speaker.
“Sorry, I had to come up to my room. Now, what’s wrong, darlin’?” Joel’s gentle, airy tone breaks the final splinter of the dam, emotion overflowing.
“I shouldn’t let it all get to me, but, work has been awful, like all I've done this week is get coffee and take minutes for meetings, which don’t even get used because they have someone that gets to actually participate taking the minutes. And—and I can’t seem to find my place. My roommates are way closer with each other cause they’ve been working together before and at the office, it’s so cliquey and everybody keeps calling my accent cute—“
Attempting to make you smile, Joel interjects, “It is cute, sweetheart.”
“Well, you can say that ‘cause you’ve got one too. They just call me ‘Texas’ or ‘Y’all’ cause I said it once in front of the group. These people are all from around here, from generations of East Coast families and they know all about life here and constantly try to one-up each other and I can’t do it, Joel. I can’t—It’s too hard. It hurts so much.”
You’ve fully got tears streaming down your face, your voice thick with phlegm, and sniffling from your runny nose.
“Oh, my sweet girl…” There’s a strain in his voice too, covered with a stuttered clearing sound. “Mariposa, my Mariposa, you can do It. I know it’s hard, I know. And mean people don’t make the adjustment any easier, but remember you’re the bigger person. Kill ‘em with kindness, baby.”
“It breaks my heart to hear you’re hurtin’, Mari. But you can do it. You’re smart, beautiful, funny, tough…Are you—are you talkin’ to anybody, sweetheart? A professional?”
“No…” you confess meekly, embarrassed by your lack of effort.
“It’s okay, baby, that’s okay. Maybe we can find you someone, alright? Might help to get out of the house, go see them, talk to them. We’ll find you someone, Mari. Promise.”
“Joel, I don’t want you to worry about me. You don’t have to help me find—“
“I want to. I worry about you constantly, mi amor. It’s hard not to when half of my heart’s across the country.” Silence falls over the line, picking up your hand to wipe at your tears.
“Thank you, Joel.”
“I love you, Mariposa. Always going to.”
That was the last major phone call you had with him. He did help you find someone, a therapist, to talk to. But through them, you had come to the decision that this life wasn’t for you; corporate bullshit was leaving you burned out and defeated, and it was cooking up an unstable environment that let your sadness and disappointment fester into depressive episodes.
After that discovery, the choice was made and you phoned your parents to tell them you were planning on coming home at the end of your first-year contract if they would have you. They agreed, of course, to welcome you back home for as long as you need.
You couldn’t bring yourself to call Joel. Hearing his disappointment in your quitting would ruin you. And, you couldn’t blame him if he got a bit angry either. You ran off and chose this life, and when it turned out to be shit, you were running home with your tail between your legs at the first opportunity. He expected so much from you and was so proud of you for choosing your dreams.
You couldn’t bear to tell him about your failure. So you didn’t.
Arrangements were made in the next few months: a replacement roommate found, a letter of resignation submitted, a one-way plane ticket purchased.
Joel wipes at his forehead, standing in the middle of the job site he was working by himself. It was rare for him to really get his hands dirty these days; Miller Construction has grown tenfold since it started, a wider team built and Joel taking the helm as more of a manager and owner. He had a hand in every project, being the one to design and plan everything, leaving the execution to be led by Tommy and his employees.
This was a particular job, though, and one he wanted to make sure was perfect.
Your dad had approached him in early Spring, walking over while Joel mowed the lawn. He explained what he was looking to get done — the basement converted into a studio apartment, with a new bathroom and kitchenette.
Joel agreed to help with the task, and out of curiosity he asked why they were making the change. Usually, it was in-laws, but maybe it was to increase the sale value. Maybe they were planning a move?
He heard it and zoned out immediately.
You? You were moving home?
He wracked his brain for any mention of these plans from you over the last few months, but he came up short when he realized it had been a couple of months since the last phone call. Life had gotten so busy, evenings spent with lawyers and Sarah home every weekend, trying to adjust her to the new arrangement as best as he could. There was his own news he had to tell you, but couldn’t ever find the right time to reach out when he knew how stressed out you were. He remembered missing a call from you, but he completely forgot to return it. Were you going to tell him then?
The phone call he made to you that night went to voicemail, and he left one in hopes you would return a call or message.
“Hey, Mariposa… Hope you’re doing well, amor. Your dad, uh, he came over today and asked me for help on the house. They wanna make the apartment a basement and—shit you definitely already know all of this… Are you—are you coming home?”
He couldn’t stand how he sounded, on the verge of begging and filled with nerves, so the voicemail ended after he asked. You didn’t return the call.
Standing back looking at his handiwork, he takes a deep breath. He’s poured over the decisions for every detail, your parents entrusting him with the project completely. He matched the floors to the rest of your house, but the walls are a soft green, one accented with wallpaper he painstakingly installed that is patterned with lavender, marigolds, and hydrangeas — small butterflies hidden in the flowers.
At one side of the studio space, Joel installed the bookshelf he made by hand in his garage, the built-in coming up halfway on the wall, molding covering the surface, and stained a rich, medium tone that complemented the paint choice. He imagined your rows and rows of beat-up paperbacks filling the spaces, knickknacks strewn along the top.
Your furniture was moved down from your bedroom, arranged by your mom to fit nicely within the space. It feels like you’re already living in this space, the touches of you from your things and the new items he tried to get perfectly ‘you’. A faint smile tugs at his lips, excitement trickling into his bloodstream and tingling all over.
You’re coming home.
The first day you were back, you didn’t leave your new room.
It was out of exhaustion, but mostly out of relishing in the new space, nearly brought to tears by the thoughtfulness of your parents. When they were showing you the new studio suite of yours, you couldn’t stop smiling, turning to your mom and asking, “How did you choose the paint color? And where’d you get the bookshelf?”
Your mom laughed, shrugging as she answered, “Believe it or not, Dad and I were so busy these last few months that we told Joel just to go wild! Well, not wild, but he made all the choices — only ran the cost by us.”
“Wait, Joel did this?”
“Oh yeah, did the whole thing for free labor, too. Stand up guy. Said he just wanted to help out a neighbor — and he did the whole thing himself too, none of his guys helped him. He did a great job, huh kiddo?” Your Dad gives you a grin, extending his arms as if showcasing the room you three were already in and poking around in.
“Yeah, he did do a great job. Guess I need to thank him…” You swallow hard and toy with your bedspread as you sit at the edge of your bed, one leg bent onto the mattress, “Thank you both for this and—and for letting me come home.”
“Hey, don’t sweat it, kiddo. We love having you here, always. You stay however long you need, princess.” At that, it was simply closed, your parents never pushing for more detail than you were willing to offer at the time; both gave you a kiss on your head and a tender hug before they made their way back upstairs, leaving you to begin unpacking.
A fresh set of eyes rolls over the space, the context that each choice was Joel’s, made for you, lighting up small details. The color of the wood he used for the shelves, the wallpaper covered in your favorite flowers and butterflies; what catches your attention is a frame set on the surface of the built-ins. You pick it up, free hand jumping to your chest as you study the content.
A drawing, signed in the bottom right corner by a “Sarah M.” It’s of a garden, lush greenery with an opening in the middle. Joel stands at one side, with dark hair and a scribbled beard, Sarah in the middle with her bouncy curls. On the other side of Sarah is a depiction of you in your sundress from the day at the butterfly garden last summer. The closest thing to a photo of the three of you.
Placing the frame back where you had found it, you hold back your tears, rubbing circles in your thumping chest as you look around the room for five things you can see, four things you can touch, three things you can hear, two things you can smell, and one thing you can taste.
At the third out of four things you can touch, your eyes fall to your bed, pink plaid poking out from between your pillows drawing you nearer. You pull out the shape from your bedding, coming face to face with the long-eared, stuffed bunny that you passed down to Sarah last year. Flopsy.
You curl the animal into your chest, squeezing it as you climb onto your bed and lie down. Bringing it up to your face, you inhale the smell of the Miller house, the smell of your previous summers. It calms your rapid pulse, each deep breath lulling you to sleep.
Somehow, despite being each other’s next-door neighbors, you’ve managed to avoid Joel and he’s avoided you for the last few days. It wasn’t like you weren’t thinking about him — no, you were constantly thinking about him. Driving past his house, walking past his driveway, every time you wake up in your room and are faced with all of what he did for you.
But finally seeing him, talking to him, you were going to be faced with the reality of telling him that you couldn’t make it, even with all of his support. The thought of watching his face fall when you have to admit you moved across the country for what amounted to nothing, broke his heart for dreams that ended up being the opposite of what you wanted.
Joel avoided you, simply to give you some time to adjust and also, to skirt around the fact that he wasn’t there for you when you must have needed him the most. Plus, he had his own news to share with you, and he kept it in to keep you from worrying. He knew if he had told you then, when you were away, you would be on the next flight home to help him. He couldn’t make you do that, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to say no to you coming either. And now, he’ll have to admit all of this to you — to tell you that he kept this from you and watched your face fall into hurt.
This sunny Saturday morning, you’ve taken to walking door to door with all of the parents in the neighborhood, offering yourself to babysit or nanny to fill the summer while you figure out what you want to do with your life. Most were surprised to see you back home, but eager to take down your number, promising to reach out if they needed help.
On your way back home, you’re on Joel’s side of the cul-de-sac, biting your lip as you get a view of his back in a white tee, shoulders straining as he stretches over the hood of his truck. He squeegees the front windshield, the truck covered in soap suds from him washing it.
As if feeling eyes on him, he turns over his shoulder to see you walking up. Completely turning around, he leans back against the hood, waving to you with a held-back smile. Joel eyes you in your cut-off shorts, licking his lips and humming to himself when he sees his navy t-shirt on you, the one he gave you last summer.
“Now, Miller, I haven’t seen you wash that dirty ass truck once the past two summers. And now you’re out here in your little shorts and white tee as soon as I get back? Suspicious.”
On his driveway now, you stand a few feet apart, a bright teasing smile on your face. Joel can’t help but feel the familiar itch in his fingers, gripping the squeegee tighter. His butterfly is back in his stomach, stirring to life as its wings start fluttering at the sight of you, rising to his chest at the sound of your voice.
“Bit suspicious that this is the first time you just so happen to stop by to say hello, is it not, Mariposa?” he asks with a raise of his eyebrows, smirk tugging up one side of his lips and exposing his dimple.
“Wha—Oh, shut up. I was stopping by to offer to help you, for your information.”
“Oh yeah? Alright then, grab a sponge, sweetheart,” he nods to the bucket on the asphalt, tossing the squeegee into the grass. You pick up a sponge out of the bucket, ringing it out a bit before going over and starting to wash the other side of his car. Joel disappears around the side of the house, coming back with the hose running water to rinse the car off.
“Think you missed a spot, Joel,” you giggle, moving the sponge in circles.
“Y’know what? I think I missed a really big spot. Kind of on the other side by you.” He’s got a devilish smirk painting his face, mischief glinting his eyes in the sunlight. He stalks around the car, moving his thumb toward the end of the hose.
“Joel, don’t you dare…”
“What, darlin’? You look a little hot. Think you need to cool down.”
“Joel! Don’t, you shithead!”
In a last-ditch effort, you toss your sponge at his chest before trying to run away. It’s fruitless, shrieking as you feel the cold water spray at your legs. You turn around to face Joel chasing you with the hose, his thumb at the end to make the water pressure higher and shoot farther. It’s as if it’s raining, the water dripping from above; you cup your hands over your head, closing your eyes as you attempt to avoid the spray.
“Okay, okay! I've cooled down, please!”
All you hear is a laugh in response, the sound multiplying the goosebumps that the cold water has caused. With your eyes squeezed shut, you're blind as you run around the car, hitting directly into something solid, sturdy, but much softer than metal. A small ‘oof’ exhales out, one arm wrapping around you to steady you.
Opening your eyes, you see Joel with a wide, childish grin and a deepened dimple on his right cheek. The crinkles next to his eyes are showing and you can see the wet spot in his white shirt from the sponge hitting him.
“May I propose a treaty?”
“If it keeps you from spraying me with the hose, sure.”
He laughs again, sliding his hand across your back.
“You come over tonight and I won’t spray you again.”
“Hmm,” you hum as you consider it, eyes widening as Joel moves to get the hose on you again, “Okay, deal! Hose down, Miller!”
Happily, Joel throws the hose into the grass, tightening his arm in a half-hug. His lips as your ear, he speaks sweetly and kisses your cheek. “Good to have you home, Mari.”
You help him clean up the rest after he finishes rinsing the truck and shuts off the hose, lingering with him on the driveway.
He nods inside with a smile, “Someone else’s been waitin’ to see you if you wanna come in for a bit.”
“That would make my day. I’d love to see that someone,” you say through a smile, cheeks hurting from laughing and grinning for the past ten minutes.
Joel leads you inside, spotting Sarah on the couch. He walks ahead of you into the living space, heart swelling at the shocked reaction Sarah has to you standing in their house.
You are feeling the same — the ache in your bones from the last few months quells once you step foot in their house, limbs lightening when Sarah jumps off the couch and runs over, or well, runs into you.
“Posey! I can’t believe you’re back!” Sarah exclaims, giggling excitedly when you scoop her up into a hug and hold her flush against you. A kiss is pressed to the top of her head, a familiar scent in her hair from the product you use. You exchanged equally ecstatic greetings before she pulled you into the kitchen with Joel, sitting at the table to chat. Sarah sits across your lap, kicking her feet as she asks a million questions about why, how, what, and more.
You answer all of them, Joel interjecting for some as you explain to her that you’ll be here for the whole summer, at least, and that you’ll still be right next door.
Rubbing her back, you look down at Sarah with a gentle smile, “I have been meaning to come to ask you, sweet pea, but I found a mutual friend of ours on my bed when I came home. How did Flopsy end up back at my house? Did he get lost while your dad was working on my new room?”
“No, he isn’t lost! I know he’s there cause I put him there. I thought you might’ve missed him, and that he might make you happy and cheer you up because Daddy said you were missing home.”
Joel was unaware of the animal his daughter left behind, swallowing hard as she mentioned how he explained you were feeling homesick back then when you two had talked. His eyes are glued to you as he watches the emotions in your eyes, sadness flashing in them before you recover, visibly sitting up and the corners of your mouth tugging up into a gentle smile.
“He made me feel much better, sweet pea, so thank you. I can bring him back next time, okay?”
Sarah shakes her head firmly, making strong eye contact with you as she says, “No, you should keep him 'cause maybe you might need him while you get used to being home. He helped me get used to staying with Daddy all the time now, so I thought he could help you be at home again, too.”
You glance at Joel, who’s looking away from you now and toying with the edge of a placemat that’s laid out on the surface. Sarah turns her head, looking between the two of you before Joel clears his throat.
“Hey Bug, we gotta head out to get you over to Emily’s house for your sleepover tonight. Can you go get your bag from upstairs? And say goodbye to Posey.”
A quick hug and she is zipping off, leaving the two adults sitting at the table in a moment of silence. It’s Joel who breaks it again, looking at you with something unreadable on his face.
“You’re coming over tonight, yeah? I—I, um, I think we have some catching up to do.”
“Yeah, I think so too. I’ll see you tonight.” You stand up and he follows you to the door, taking your hand in his to pull you back as your hand reaches for the doorknob.
“It is really good to have you home, Mariposa. Feels like—I don’t know, life feels like summer again. I missed you.”
“I missed you too, Joel. I’ll see you tonight,” you lean in, stretching up to kiss his cheek before slipping out of the door and into your backyard.
At sunset, you slip out of the sliding glass door, walking across the pool area and into Joel’s backyard. Climbing up his deck stairs, you reach his back door and knock, biting back a smile when you can see him approaching with a puzzled expression. He opens the door, looking at you through the screen with a brown raised.
“Back door? This a new thing now?”
“S’closer to my new room.” You shrug and knock your knuckles on the metal frame of the screen door. Joel nods for you to step back, opening the door and holding it for you to come inside, shutting it and the windowed, wooden door behind it. Turning around to you, he steps forward, snaking his arms around your hips. A soft smile peels apart his lips with a relaxed sigh, leaning some of his weight into you.
“Hi, Mari.”
“Hey, J.”
“You smell good,” he says, muffled into your hair, lips pressing a kiss to the side of your head, “And I like that nickname.”
A quiet giggle breathes out from your mouth, hands coasting up and down his biceps. He moves to tuck your head under his chin, swaying back and forth in the middle of his kitchen.
“Thought we had stuff to talk about?” You question, biting your bottom lip and making no move to unfurl yourself from his arms. This is what you had been missing so much, feeling his radiating warmth and care. His tenderness, his love.
“We do. But I get to just hold you first, darlin’. Been waiting too long to do this again.” Squeezing you closer, he tucks his chin in to lay his lips against the top of your head, fingertips ghosting up your spine. It’s at least two minutes before he moves, untangling himself from you with one last kiss on your forehead.
“Alright, mi Mariposa, how about we sit on the couch? You can go first, sweetheart,” his voice crackles in your ears, feeling the reverb in your chest from his low drawl. Hands at your sides guide you into the living room, letting go to allow you to sit down, Joel taking a seat next to you and facing you. “You wanna go first, Mari? S’alright if you don’t…”
“No, I do. I think I should at least…” You sigh and focus your stare on a stitched seam of the back of the couch, tracing it with your fingers as you begin to recount what brought you home, “I don’t know if you remember that one phone call we had in the winter, but it was after that, you helped me find someone to talk to?”
“I remember.”
“Well, I started seeing them weekly, sometimes twice a week, and it helped to be able to talk about everything, but there wasn’t too much I could do to help the situation I was in. My, um, my therapist diagnosed me with depression.”
Your voice was thick, phlegm building up as your emotions started to get the best of you, stare still unfocused from Joel. His hand lays over yours, pulling you away from the movement and to his face. There’s no judgment in his eyes, only concern and piety. Without any words, he slides closer to you, pulling your legs across his lap and slipping an arm around your back.
“And in our sessions, I wasn’t really getting much better with the tools she was giving to me, so we made a plan. It started with her asking me where I felt the most myself, the most comfortable, where I could work on everything without the added…stress of work and feeling isolated. And then it was a bit of a no-brainer to make arrangements to come home. And—and I meant to call you, I really tried, Joel. But I couldn’t bear to have to tell you that I—I failed and that I broke your heart for nothing. You believed in me so much, and I couldn’t do it. I left everything behind, left you behind and nothing came out of it. And I couldn’t bring myself to call cause I couldn’t hear your reaction. I didn’t know if you’d care if I came back. If you would be mad or disappointed…”
You exhale with a long breath, tears flowing freely down your cheeks while Joel’s fingers work to wipe them away as quickly as they fall.
“Sweet girl…My Mariposa, I am so sorry you went through that. I’m so glad that you weren’t alone, that you had support, but I hate that I wasn’t there when you needed me,” he swallows and holds you against his chest, “I love you, sweet girl, always going to. I knew you had to go because I knew you might’ve regretted it if you didn’t try, but, darlin’, mi amor, I could give two shits if you live some big corporate life if it doesn’t make you happy. That is all I want for you, Mari, and if that wasn’t what you had up there, then I want you to find it wherever you are.”
You sniffle and wrap your arms around his neck, both of you embracing each other tightly — so tightly you nearly can’t breathe, but it feels comforting, like a weighted blanket over your body and soul.
“Selfishly, I’m glad you came home. Missed you, my sweet girl, and ‘m always gonna be here for you. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there when you needed me, I should have been better, but there was just so much happening…” he admits, guilt and shame oozing out of his words and tone.
You pull back, brow furrowed as you hold the side of his jaw.
“Did something happen?”
“Um, yeah. Something did happen, in the spring…” he runs a hand over his face, sighing before he drops his forehead against yours, staying silent for a moment before sitting up again and gripping onto the fabric of your shirt.
“I have full custody of Sarah now.”
He watches as confusion falls over your face, melding into concern as he sees your thought process happening. He knows you’re thinking about Sarah, all of the little things she said earlier this afternoon must be clicking finally. The rhythm of his heart is racing, waiting for your questions.
“What? What happened? How? Are you okay, is Sarah okay?”
“It’s alright, Mari, I’m okay. Sarah’s adjusting. It was just sudden, and I had to scramble to get everything in order while also figuring out how to tell her. I really haven’t told her the truth, I c—I can’t do that to her…” His voice drops to a whisper as he trails off, eyes welling with tears of his own.
“Oh, J, babe, what happened? If you want to tell me, I’m here for you.”
He clears his throat, twisting the handful of fabric he’s got, “Tiff approached me after her last drop off when Sarah was inside the house, and she told me that…She basically said she met someone new, he was movin’ out of state for his job, and she wouldn’t be able to afford her child support anymore. I asked her what she was gettin’ at and she said, she said she wanted to sign her rights away. That she couldn’t do it all anymore.”
“I mean, I couldn’t bring myself to tell Sarah that—that her mom didn’t want to take care of her anymore. So I only told her that she would be gone for a while and that she would be staying at home for all her weekends for now. I don’t know what to do, baby. And it was all so chaotic, and I couldn’t call you 'cause I didn’t want to add to your stress with work and life up there.”
In response, you hold yourself around him silently, arms at his neck, straddling his lap and wrapping your legs around his waist like a koala in a tree. Joel relaxes into you, damp droplets soaking into your shirt and skin as he lays his head on your shoulder. All of his stress, his anxieties come out. He knows he should also be comforting you, for everything you’ve told him, but it’s like a door has opened and everything is piling out of him. He’s held it together for months now, his only person to talk to being Tommy, but he doesn’t want to burden his younger brother with all of his problems all the time.
Not that he wants to do that to you, either, especially with what you’ve been through, but at this moment, all he can think about is your touch, your warmth, your care.
“You could never be anything but an addition to my life, Joel. Even if it’s a problem, I want to help you solve it or be there for you while you work through it. ‘M here now, we both are, so we can get through our things together.”
At his next sniffle, he pulls away, staying wrapped up in you but sitting so he can see your face.
“Guess these last few months have been messes for both of us, huh?” You break the seriousness of the moment with your chuckle, sending Joel into a fit of laughter as he nods.
“Guess so. Might’ve been better if either of us called. Don’t think we’d be here right now crying.”
“That’s life though, isn’t it? At least ours. Miscommunication continually brings us back together. I think maybe we should quit that habit though.”
“I agree…” he smiles sweetly, eyes pouring adoration into yours, “All this talk about us, I guess my other question would be, what are we? I mean, you don’t have an end to the summer, right? So maybe we could—“
“Let’s give us a proper shot. No expiration date. We can just be together and see what comes of it, yeah?”
“Yeah, Mariposa, yeah. I would love that,” Joel leans in, catching your lips in a slow, syrupy kiss. It’s languid, stealing your breath and giving you his, melting your tongues together and sighing at the taste of you. He pulls back, ghosting his lips over yours with an infectious smile.
“So, is that it? Are you officially mine, Mariposa? Mi Mariposa es solo mi Mariposa (My butterfly is only my butterfly)?”
“Yours. And you’re mine, so don’t forget it,” you chuckle and he kisses you sweetly again, shaking his head as his nose fits against yours.
“Never going to forget that, are you kidding me? Hearing that automatically entered my top five best life moments.”
“God, you’re such an idiot…”
“Yeah, I am, baby. An idiot in love. A fool for you,” he laughs and tightens his grip around you, arms settling under your thighs as he stands from the couch, carrying you toward the stairs, “Also an idiot who’s getting to go to bed with the girl of his dreams. So, really, who’s an idiot now? Think I made some damn good decisions.”
“Can I take back my answer to your question?” You tease, shrieking when he drops you onto his bed, a smirk on his face as he shakes his head.
“No takebacks. Stuck with me now, Mariposa,” he climbs over you and kisses you again, deeper than before but as innocent as the giggly kisses you shared earlier.
“Good thing you’re a good kisser.”
“Yeah? Bet you know what else I’m good at, don’t you, sweetheart?” He sits back on his haunches, eyes dragging over you laying back on his bed, tongue poking out to lick his lips.
“Can I have you, darlin’? Pretty please?”
A hard swallow comes from your throat, crossing your arms over your stomach as you look up from the mattress to Joel.
“I want you to, but I’ve…I haven’t done anything since—“
“I understand, sweet girl. You wanna ease back into it with me, hermosa? We’ll go slow,” he watches you nod, pushing up the hem of your t-shirt to under your breasts, “No bra? Sigues siendo mi diablita, no? (You’re still my little devil, aren’t you?)”
As you sit up, he tugs the materials over your head, folding over to attach his lips to one of your already pebbled nipples. A whimper slips from your mouth, tangling fingers into his hair and arching into his mouth. He pays the same attention to the other side, soft moans filling the room.
Joel separates from you with a pop of his lips, grinning as he reaches for the back collar of his t-shirt and pulls it over his head. You happily sigh as you run your hands across his strong chest and shoulders, tickling your fingertips down his stomach as he watches you slip his shorts’ waistband down a few inches.
“Mm, I have an idea, sweetheart…You wanna try something we haven’t done before?” Joel kisses your lips before peppering kisses along your jaw.
“What d’you have in mind?”
“Take the rest of your clothes off, darlin’. ‘M gonna sit up at my headboard and you come sit on my lap, m’kay?”
You follow his instructions, licking your lips as you watch him stand and strip in front of you, his hard cock slapping against his stomach, leaking already out of need. He sits on his bed, head leaned against the headboard with pillows supporting his back. With your shorts and panties thrown into a heap with his clothes, you walk over the mattress on your knees, lifting one to the other side of his thighs.
“So beautiful, Mariposa. The most beautiful,” he sighs as he licks into your mouth, grabbing handfuls of your ass, “How did I get so damn lucky?”
“Could say the same thing about you, J. Pretty boy.”
He chuckles against your lips, shaking his head. “Not as pretty as you, mi amor. Estás preciosa. Mucho más preciosa que cualquier flor o puesta de sol o estrella. La cosa más hermosa que he visto.”
“What does that all mean?”
“You are gorgeous. Much more gorgeous than any flower or sunset or star. The most beautiful thing I've ever seen,” Joel speaks softly, tenderness in his eyes as he brushes your hair away from your face.
Heat spans across the back of your neck and up to the tips of your ears, heart pounding from the look he is giving you. It feels like it’s breaking down any facade you had left, completely exposed to him with the bashful smile on your face.
“I love you, Mariposa,” he punctuates with a stealing kiss, one hand roaming around to your front to slip between your legs. Two fingers collect your arousal on their tips, dragging some to your clit as you sigh into Joel’s mouth.
“Now, ‘m gonna touch you, baby, and if you want, you touch me at the same time, yeah?” He pulls away from your lips, nudging his nose into your cheek.
“I want to, I really want to.”
His fingers move to your entrance, gathering more along his whole fingers before pulling from between your legs and wrapping his own hand around his cock. He gives himself a few long strokes, looking into your eyes.
“Think you can spare some for me, sweet girl? Got you fucking drenched from barely even touchin’ you,” he sighs contently, leaning his head back more, “Spit on it for me, baby, and use your own hand, m’kay?”
You nod, eager to follow instructions. Folding forward, you drop saliva onto his waiting cock, watching as it slips down the side and mixes with your slick. He takes his hand away and your own wraps around his base, starting slow and teasing strokes.
“Fuck,” he exhales, dragging it out as long as his sigh is, “Missed you so much, sweet girl. You’re my sweet girl now, aren’t you? Only mine.”
His fingers find your core again, slow circles matching the energy of your strokes. A whine slips out, brows scrunching as you attempt to move your hips to get more friction.
“Please, Joel, please. Want more…”
“You want more, mi Mariposa? You want me to fuck you with my fingers, hm?” At your rapid nod, he chuckles darkly, nipping at your neck.
“Gotta give me more to get more, sweetheart. ‘M aching for you, just giving you the same treatment.”
“Mean,” you breathe out, gasping as his thick fingers tease your entrance.
“You ain’t seen mean yet, cariño,” he kisses you again as he slips one finger inside of you, the pace of your hand moving faster when you get more of what you wanted. He groans, the sound muffled into your tongue as it flicks against his, the heel of his hand rubbing against your clit. You start to bounce your hips in rhythm with your hand, imagining his cock inside of you again.
With a lewd noise, he pulls away, shallow breaths fanning across your collarbone.
“Mm, that’s right, baby. Fuck yourself on my fingers while you stroke my cock.”
His voice makes you flood his finger even more, easily slipping another into you for a few strokes before adding a third.
“Feel full, sweet girl? Feel anything like my cock?” He whispers to you as you continue to ride his hand, moving your hips and hand faster.
“So full, J. Not as good as your cock, nothing ever is, but fuck—oh fuck! Feels so good.” Your eyes close tightly as the frays of tightly coiled rope start to break inside of you. Joel takes over as your body stills with stimulation, fucking his fingers into you quickly with wet noises while his own hips move under your grip to fuck your hand.
“Come for me, my sweet girl. Let me feel what I’ve missed about this pussy. Still mine, isn’t it?”
“Yesyesyes, Joel! Oh my god, fuck I’m coming!” You open your eyes as the last fibers of the rope snap, pleasure radiating over every nerve while he continues to move under you and inside of you. The aftershocks of your orgasm fade as he whimpers in front of you, shots of warm cum coating your hand and his stomach.
“Oh fuck, Mari…” Joel picks his head up and looks at you with a breathless laugh and smile, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips as he pulls his fingers out of you.
“I love you, my girl. Mi Mariposa. Let’s get you cleaned up and get to sleep, yeah?”
Slumber reaches the edge of your vision, drooping your eyelids as Joel guides you to his en-suite, washing your hands for you before washing his, and wiping a warm cloth between your legs. He peppers kisses to your head, shoulders, and neck as he does it all, whispering sweet nothings as he pulls you back into his bed.
“Night, Mari.”
“Night, J…Mm, before I forget, we’re getting you new sheets tomorrow. No more navy, you’ve got a girl in your life now.”
He laughs, kissing the top of your head and holding you closer to his side as he exhales, “Sure thing, my sweet girl. Can’t have all the other ladies I randomly bring up to my room think I don’t have a woman in my life, Mariposa.”
The tone is overly sarcastic and you flick his chest half awake.
“It’s not for other women to know, it’s so I don’t feel like I’m with a junior in college. Makes you look like a frat star.”
Joel laughs louder, your head shaking with his chest moving and a smile turning your lips up, before he calms himself and strokes your spine, “Okay, okay, it is the task for the morning. We’ll pick up Sarah and head to…”
“HomeGoods.”
“Alright, HomeGoods it is. Now sleep.”
Sarah darts ahead of you both as Joel holds the door open, beelining in her Strawberry Shortcake pajamas to the first open booth she sees. Easily sliding into one side, she moves toward the wall as you two approach, patting the spot next to her.
“Posey, come sit with me!”
With a smile, you take the offered seat and look over to Joel as he settles in on the opposite side, shaking his head as he gives Sarah a playfully hurt face.
“You don’t want me to sit next to you, Bug?” he pouts.
“I wanna sit with Posey 'cause I always have to sit with you when we go places. It gets boring.”
You laugh loudly and cover your mouth when you get glares from other customers, Joel’s jaw drops for a moment before he looks at you and starts laughing as well.
“Never lose your honesty, mija.”
Sarah doesn’t seem phased by her dad’s response, moving to sit on her knees in the booth and look over the kids’ menu. Reaching up, you fluff her curls, smiling at her when she turns to look at you.
“How was the sleepover, Sare-Bear? I see you got some tinsel in your hair, it’s very pretty.”
“It was fun, but I kinda missed my stuffed animals and my own bed. I wanna have a sleepover at our house, Daddy,” Sarah looks up from the menu and to Joel, awaiting an answer. With one look at Joel, you can see the idea makes him nervous, having a handful of young girls to entertain for a whole night as a single dad. Sarah is one thing, she’s his and he can handle her attitude or boredom, but with other kids, he isn’t so sure he has a lot of tolerance.
“Um, I’m not sure, Bug. Can I think about it?” he asks with his brow furrowed, reaching across the table to nudge her arm with a smile. Sarah sighs and sits back, clearly disappointed in her father’s answer.
“Well, what about if you had a sleepover with me? I would be honored to be invited over. We could watch movies and I could do your hair or your makeup. We could paint our nails — a whole girls’ night. Plus your dad,” you turn back to Joel with a grin, winking as he chuckles.
Sarah immediately perks up, grinning wildly and bouncing in her seat, “You would come over for that, Posey? I want to have a sleepover with you. Please, Daddy, please can Posey come over?”
Joel gives you a knowing look, the secret shared between you two not living on for much longer, and he nods with a grin, “Sure, Bug. Posey can come over and stay whenever you want.”
Breakfast is filled with conversation about what you could do at said sleepover, making plans for movies, and going to the drug store to get some new nail polishes. Joel orders for the table so you can stay engrossed in conversation, and he can’t help but put a hand to his chest as he observes the two of you talking like you are best friends, despite the nearly twenty-year age difference. You treat Sarah like your own, and he reminds himself to thank you for that, someday.
When the chocolate waffles are set in front of you and Sarah, and a typical two eggs, toast, and bacon meal is laid in front of Joel, the conversation slows. After taking a sip of water, Joel faces Sarah, sharing one quick glance with you.
“So, mija, do you remember last summer when you were telling me about those classmates of yours that were boyfriend and girlfriend and they spent recess together?”
“Yeah, Luke and Katie. They are not boyfriend girlfriend anymore,” she says with an exasperated sigh, taking another bite of her waffle.
“Well, that’s too bad…Anyways, Bug, d’you remember what you told me when Posey was moving away? Like what you told me I should ask her?” You forgo your breakfast for a moment, sipping your water and darting your eyes between Joel and Sarah. She seems perplexed for a minute, tapping her chin as she thinks back in her young memory.
“I think I remember, Daddy. Why?”
Joel adjusts in his seat, clearing his throat — he’s never had to have this type of conversation with Sarah. Every woman he dated before had never gotten to this point, and after over two years of this back and forth with you, over a year of being head over heels for you, he knows it’s appropriate and that it’s time and that this is going to last until the end. If everything goes, well, how he is hoping it will go, this will be the only time he has to have a conversation like this with Sarah.
If only he knew how you were just as nervous, clammy hands gripping your condensation-covered plastic cup tighter and looking over at Sarah. Sure, she loves you, but that is as her nanny. As a family friend. Would she change her opinion if you were dating her dad? Your mind told you that you couldn’t be sure despite the way your heart was yelling at you to tell you that it would be all fine.
“I was askin’ you all this 'cause I have a big question I wanted to ask you. It’s okay to be honest, princess, I want you to know you can say whatever it is you feel, yeah?” Sarah nods in confirmation, encouraging Joel to continue, “What would you think about Posey being my girlfriend?”
“Is she your girlfriend, Daddy?” Her head whips to the side, curls bouncing as a grin grows on her face, “Are you Daddy’s girlfriend?”
The younger Miller volleys her gaze between you and Joel, eyes widened with her brows raised as she sits up eagerly. You make eye contact with Joel, nodding to him with a gentle smile.
“Yeah, mija, Posey’s my girlfriend now. Can you believe she said yes to your silly dad?” He teases and can’t help but laugh along with her as she giggles excitedly, the infectiousness of it bringing out a laugh from you.
“I’m so excited! Wait, so that means Posey is gonna be hanging out with you lots of times? And she’ll be at our house and can play with me?” Her tiny arms wrap around your bicep closest to her, leaning into your side. You drop your head onto hers and both of you look over at Joel.
“As much as Posey wants to come over, we’d be happy to have her, right Bug?” He smiles sweetly at you, holding your eyes for a lingering moment before Sarah pipes up again.
“Well, you can’t take up all the time Posey is over, Daddy, ‘cause I want to hang out with her, too.” Her arms tighten possessively and you chuckle, shaking your head.
“No need to worry about that, sweet pea,” acting as if you’re sharing a secret with her, you lean in, “Don’t tell your dad, but I think we’ll hang out the most.”
Sarah giggles at your joke, leaning back in the booth and letting go of your arm. Joel’s daughter starts to list everything she wants to do this summer, now with you instead of only her dad, and you look up to face Joel for a moment. He shrugs and smiles at you, reaching over and stealing a bite of your waffle. At your gasp, he chuckles and grins smugly, chewing the swiped sweet.
“Hey, Daddy, that’s not very polite,” Sarah reprimands, turning back to her food.
“I was makin’ sure it wasn’t poisoned, mija, just like I’m going to make sure yours isn’t too,” he takes the same from her plate, and in retaliation, you reach over and grab a piece of bacon, splitting it in half and giving one to Sarah.
“Hey! I don’t have that much bacon, y’all have massive waffles.”
“Sharing is caring. That’s what you always say to me, Daddy.”
“Yeah, J, sharing is caring. Can’t give the lesson if you can’t follow it.” You playfully stick your tongue out and Sarah imitates it, too. Joel sighs and shakes his head, leaning back in the booth.
“Is the two of you teaming up on me gonna be a thing now?”
“Yeah,” you answer at the same time as Sarah, the three of you laughing with each other.
It was bold to come to a HomeGoods on a Sunday, all of the aisles packed with people browsing on this relaxing weekend, stowing away in the air conditioning before venturing to the other stores in the commons. Sarah grips your hand, poking around the shelves while Joel stands behind you, a hand on your waist to keep you close.
The aisle filled with sheet sets is finally discovered by the three of you, excusing yourselves to the center of the aisle past a few fellow shoppers, looking up and down before facing Joel.
“Alright, your choice. Anything but plain ol’ navy, please.”
Joel’s eyes follow the same path that yours had, combing over the options before shrugging and staring down at you again.
“You choose for me.”
“Okay, that is not the point, it is still your room and your house.”
“I made choices for your room for you, sweetheart, you choose for me now,” his timbre rings in your ears as he presses his lips into the side of your head, fingertips rubbing circles in your lower back. Sarah wanders off down the aisle and Joel calls out a warning to stay where he can see her, waiting for you as you peruse the options. After some consideration, you select a thin pinstriped set and a plain white one, holding the sets against your chest.
“What d’ya think of these? Like either of ‘em?” Joel checks them out, shrugging and smiling.
“Both look great to me. You wanna look at anything else, mi amor?” He leads you out of the aisle, taking the sets and holding them under his arm. Pursuing the store, the three of you weave around aisles, checking out some other things. Sarah excitedly runs ahead to explore the kids’ section, drawn in by glitter, sequins, and bright colors. Joel takes your hand with his open one, nodding to some furniture on display.
“D’you like any of that?” You hum, turning your attention to him when you hear his question, following his gaze to the mix of pieces. Shrugging, you squeeze his hand and grab his bicep with your opposite one.
“The chair’s nice. Personally, I prefer my handcrafted, artisan bookshelf though.”
Joel scoffs and laughs a bit at your descriptors, “M’glad to hear that, the amount of splinters I got for that thing was brutal.”
“There’s literally blood, sweat, and tears put into it then,” you tease, continuing to scan over the goods, “None of this compares to a Joel Miller original.”
“I mean, thank you, sweetheart, but I do want you to feel at home with us. I’d get whatever you liked—well, maybe not something I could make 'cause it’s less expensive for me to just do it, but I want you to have a hand in our home. Make it as much of your space as it is ours.”
“I do feel at home with you both cause it’s the two of you. I mean, I didn’t really feel completely at home until I was at your place. The drawing from Sarah and Flopsy and the fact that you built my studio for me made me feel so much more comfortable, but it was like something really settled when I saw you.”
“Y’know, I like having little reminders of you every day, darlin’. Bedsheets, stolen bites of waffle, the stuffed animals on Sarah’s bed, my watch from you,” he lifts his left wrist to show off the round face with the army green band, kissing your cheek, “And I want whatever you are willing to give me, even if it is just those tiny moments. I would be content with that for the summer; no matter where you decide to end up, I’d cherish all the small things with you.”
Looking up at him, you give his hand a gentle squeeze, “Think we both know what I’m gonna decide, J.”
taglist: @beskarandblasters @undrthelights @swiftispunk @joelsversion @asirenbyanyothername @ellenmunn @ja-ehyun @sw33tp1xie @marisemonteiroo @brunetteeras @beee-haw @jenna-mcgraw19 @whore-4-pedro @katifefe @joelmillerswifu @itsgiorgiaz @soph55 @wild-hearts-runfree @youcancallmeelle @jupitren @starkovli @thatgeminigirlx @livingdeadmaria @bunnyskisses @houseofballoonsth @casual-obsessions @pedro-pascal-lvr @bimbodolls-world @burningnerdchild @tuquoquebrute @mrsvedder12 @estelivi28 @bongsrconfusing @addictedtotlou @angie2274 @pedrostories @pedroholicx @theelishad @johnwatsn @elissaaa @felicityofbakerstreet @atinylittlepain @northernbluess @cannolighost
#writing#joel#joel miller x reader#joel miller x afab!reader#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller smut#joel miller fanfic#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fic#tlou fanfic#tlou fic#tlou fanfiction#joel miller au#joel miller angst#joel miller fluff
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chinese proverb // red, white & royal blue (2023) // yeh sham mastani — kati patang (1971) // 9-1-1 s6e10, "in a flash" // our red string of fate — alex bentley // maine pyar kiya (1989) // jane eyre — charlotte brontë
(ID under the cut)
[Image ID: four text images and three gifs, alternating from various sources.
IMAGE 1: A Chinese proverb reading, "An invisible red thread connects those who are destined to meet, regardless of time, place, or circumstance. The thread may stretch or tangle, but it will never break."
IMAGE 2: a gif of Alex and Henry sitting together after swimming. Henry looks tense and mournful, and behind him, Alex traces patterns on his skin while he says, "it's like there's a rope attached to my chest, and it keeps pulling me towards you."
IMAGE 3: A lyric from Yeh Sham Mastani from the movie Kati Patang (1971.) It reads, "mujhe dor koi kheenche / teri ore liye jaaye" and the translation reads, "a string pulls me / pulls me towards you"
IMAGE 4: Eddie rapidly climbing the ladder to where Buck hangs lifelessly from his red harness.
IMAGE 5: A poem by Alex Bentley that reads, "To think, I was one decision away / from living an entirely different life / But as fate would have it, / we were destined to meet after all / I was on the brink of disaster, / but you pulled me in with a tug / On a single thread of invisible red string, / but now we’re a love story for all the world. / To see. To breathe. To believe.
IMAGE 6: Prem helping Suman get up because of her hurt leg, both of them limping towards the bathroom so Suman can wash Prem's wound.
IMAGE 7: A quote from Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë that reads, "“Because,” he said, “I sometimes have a queer feeling with regard to you - especially when you are near me, as now: it is as if I had a string somewhere under my left ribs, tightly and inextricably knotted to a similar string situated in the corresponding quarter of your little frame. And if that boisterous channel, and two hundred miles or so of land some broad between us, I am afraid that cord of communion will be snapt; and then I've a nervous notion I should take to bleeding inwardly. As for you, - you'd forget me.”"
/endID]
#zee edits#henry fox mountchristen windsor#alex claremont diaz#evan buckley#eddie diaz#firstprince#buddie#rwrb#911 on fox#maine pyar kiya#jane eyre#charlotte bronte#rwrbedit#911edit#filmtv#cinematv#usertelevision#usergif#dailyfilmsource#red white and royal blue
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HII i'd like to request prompt 11 "give me time, give us time" for kookiee? and if its ok id like to give u a small plot just in case you dont know how to work with this if thats okay 🥺
so the tiny tannie lil ol plot for this wuld be: jk being a bit of a workaholic (very much so.) and y/n is quite tired of it.. note that this is non!idol and married! :D they had a talk and a cool plot twist wuld be how y/n was actualy planning to surprise him abt being pregnant!!!GASPAND THEN KOOKIE NEVER NOTICED THE SYMPTOMS CUZ HES BEEN WORKING TOO MUCH!!! and like yeah she getzz rlly emotionsl
AND IF ITS OK CAN U GIVE LIKE AN AFTERMATH OF THIS? LIKE 1 OR 2 YEARS AWAY FROM THE ARGUMET? hope this isnt too much 😭
Hello!! oh my goodness this is so amazing, no one has given me a plot to write by, this is really cool and I hope that I do a good enough job portraying this for you! Thank you so much for sending this in <3
La La Land (JK drabble request)
warnings- mentions of drinking, angst, mentions of pregnancy, swearing, couple fighting, fluff, kissing (nothing major) I think thats all?
enjoy <3
"I cant tell, is this a positive or negative?"
Your voice was shaky and frail, holding up the test to your phone camera, trying to show your friend.
"blurry, cant see, read the box y/n. instructions are there" Your friend sighed, in her defense, it was late, and you called her out of slumber- but only because you were totally hyped at the sudden realization that you were finally possibly pregnant.
You and Jungkook had not necessarily been trying, nor necessarily avoiding it.
You both wanted kids, but never really specified when. Considering the fact you have now been married for 2 years, and your relatives are up your ass about when it is that you will have a baby, even though its not their business at all.
You wanted this for you, and today might be the day you get what you wished for.
"You just took it, let it sit for a moment"
you nodded at your friends words as you placed the test onto the bathroom sink, moving your hands to rest on your hips as your teeth tugged at your bottom lip in thought.
"whats on your mind, hun?" she asked
"a lot..." you giggled, drawing your eyes back to her. "If I am, I just hope Kook is happy, thats all I want"
"mm his schedule is so busy"
"I know, work always comes first with him, thats why im nervous. Its not like he told me to take birth control or anything, and we have condoms he just refuses to use one" you snicker
She laughs, "well then yeah what did he expect?"
"but hes a head manager at the company he works at, hes spent so much time climbing the ladder to get there, what if this throws him in a loop?"
"y/n....girl...listen to me, he is partially responsible for this, so he needs to be accepting or I will personally come down there and make him accepting"
You laughed at your friend, thankful you had some humor relief out of all the tension.
"and listen, you are in your 30's, its not like you are 20 years old and unmarried, you know?"
"yeah...youre right...im gonna look now, I think its ready"
"okay"
You gently flipped over the test and held it close to your eyes, a faint blue plus sign appeared, making your heart thump so loud it was audible in your ears.
"holy shit, its positive!"
"its positive?" your friends voice shot up 3 octaves
"YES!!!" you jumped around, wishing jungkook was home right now to show him, instead bathing in the moment with your best friend.
"congratulations, y/n, oh my god im so happy for you!!!"
"thank you!" you wiped a few tears, gripping the test almost as if it wouldnt be real if you let it go. "oh jesus this is so....wow!"
"remember what I said, everything will be okay"
You nodded, taking a deep breath
"everything will be okay, yeah....your right."
-
Everything, in fact, was not alright.
It's been 2 weeks since that night you found out you were pregnant, and everytime you think you are ready to tell Jungkook, something happens.
"oh gotta go babe, they are calling me into work"
"too tired to talk tonight honey, i have to get up at 5am"
"not right now baby, maybe tomorrow?"
It never ended, he was in and out the front door constantly.
It was upsetting that the only time youve had to talk with him recently was when you both took a shower a few days ago.
"you look so tired" you frowned, pushing his hair back
"I know...I am"
"you need to sleep more" you kissed his chest, resting against it under the warm water.
He let out a soft laugh, "yeah...when is there time for rest?"
"its okay to take time off, you know? youre a manager, you have more control"
"I just need to prove to everyone that I am capable of handling the position" he insisted
"Obviously you are, they wouldnt-"
"y/n, just dont worry about it....okay?" he squeezed you softly, trying to change the subject and shutting you down, because you wouldnt get it
-
You wanted your husband, you wanted him more than anything, and this feeling only turned to anger as you sat with him at the dinner table one night.
You were now almost 2 months pregnant and still have not told him.
You planned a nice meal to eat, his favorite.
You cooked all the vegetables and spent hours slaving in the hot kitchen making sure everything was up to perfection for him, just for him to come home at 2am with no text in regard to him being late.
"its late, honey, im sorry, we can eat tomorrow"
You stood to your feet before he could leave the room, all of your dishes sitting on the stove, some now cold. "no, we are gonna eat now."
You know he smelled the food, and never did he once acknowledge the fact you made his favorite dish, or thank you for it.
His eyes widened, not used to hearing the sudden tone in your voice.
"please....please just sit" your voice cracked slightly as you watched him slowly walk back to the seat, sinking into it.
"are you mad at me?" he whispered, watching your back as you heated up the food into a plate for him.
"mad..?" you chuckle to yourself, trying to gather your thoughts.
"yeah, mad. are you?"
You took the food out of the microwave and handed it to him, sitting on the other end of the table and looking at him desperatley.
"jungkook...have you noticed anything...different?"
He smiled gently, confusion in his eyes, "what do you mean?"
Your expression softened from hopeful to dissapointment.
"you dont see...you dont feel like anything is different?"
"no?" he half smiled, looking around awkwardly.
You looked down at your plate, teary eyes overcoming you as you tried hard to prevent your breakdown- but its been a long time coming.
"wha-"
"jungkook!" you cry out desperately, leaving him shocked and confused at the odd behavior.
"baby why are you crying? whats going on? what is this?" he panicked
"You!! im crying because of you!!" you stood, covering your face as you felt the embarrassment fall over you.
"what did I do?" he got up and tried to come over to hold you, but you pushed him away.
He let you talk, not knowing how to respond to anything.
"you are never home, Jungkook. I fucking miss my husband, okay? I spent 4 hours in this kitchen, sick as hell, making your favorite dish and I dont get any type of thank you, instead you come home 3 hours late and decide its time to sleep, you reek of alcohol as well" you wipe you tears hastily.
He stood, looking at you as his eyes teared up
"I know work is important, I know it is, But I matter too Jungkook!! We are married, I am your WIFE! im not just the maid and chef here, you know?
"baby I never said any of that-"
"you treat me like one!!" you cry, pacing the room, "see, you still dont even notice anything do you?"
He looked helplessly, "Im sorry, honey, I really am, but I need work-"
"not this much!!" you looked at him sharply, "Ive been home alone these past few weeks, dealing with a certain situation ive been terrified to tell you about all by myself!"
"im here now, tell me! tell me! what is going on and how can I fix this?"
"I just want you, jungkook....One fucking day, one fucking dinner" you gesture to the table "When was the last time we even woke up together and cuddled, or had a fucking cup of coffee and talked? Months...MONTHS!"
"my angel im sorry ive been neglecting you, why didnt you say something to me sooner?"
"I was trying to understand, I was trying sooo hard to put myself in your shoes but damnit, jungkook, I cant hide it anymore" you sobbed, knowing how crazy you looked to him right now. "Its...its not fair!!"
He gently grabbed your arm, leading you towards him, his eyes searching deep into your own.
You sighed, trying to adjust your breathing, "g-give me time, give us time." you wrapped your arms around yourself and looked at him.
"us?"
You swallowed harshly, trying to steady your voice, "im pregnant, Jungkook. I found out weeks ago and since then youve left me home alone with not an ounce of time for me to tell you, which is now resulting in this"
He froze, his eyes softening at you as he tears up, "pregnant? baby..."
"yes!" you step back, "and...and you didnt even notice! I tried leaving clues, I left the test in your bedside nightstand and you never fucking saw it?"
"n-no baby...youre pregnant, oh my god, honey" he brought you back to him, a soft yet sad smile on his face
"Its been all me, im the only one who has to deal with it and its not fair. If you dont have time for me, how the hell are you gonna manage to parent our child?" you glared "I refuse to parent alone, this is a team effort, jungkook. Yes money is important, but I need you, I need you to stop being a manager first and my husband second"
He took a shaky breath, part of him scared to say the wrong thing, "I- I understand honey" he nodded, holding your hands as he cried "fuck- im so sorry" you let him pull you into a tight hug "Im so sorry holy shit...im such a fucking dumbass, how could I not know?" he ran his hand up and down your back, face hidden into your shoulder as you both cried.
"you need to understand, I am serious, things have to change!"
"they will! they will! I'll change right now I promise Im gonna be here for you, for both of you" his hands held your stomach, desperation in his voice "dont leave...." he whispered
"im not going to, jungkook. But you need to stop working so much, I cant do this by myself"
"you dont have to, im here for you, whatever you need, fuck I'll take the rest of the week off for you, just let me hold you" he squeezed you tighter
"I miss you so much" your voice was quiet
"I love you, im so sorry I never noticed, Im so dumb baby....I love you,I love you" he cupped your face and pressed a delicate kiss to your lips, forehead against yours, "thank you for all you do, im an ass for not recognizing any of it"
"I love you too....just please...do it for us...?"
He nods "anything....for you, i'll do fucking anything baby." he kisses you once more as you both gently sway in the kitchen. The tension of the argument still lingering in the air, thick and prominent.
This wasnt a fixed issue, more so a stepping stone to him proving his words.
If he wanted to be a dad, he needed to show you he was ready for it.
--
"he is crying again" you sigh, rubbing your eyes and sitting up to look at the baby monitor.
"I'll get him" jungkook immediately got up and walked down the hall, following the sad cries that led him to your baby's room.
"little man...its 4am...why the tears?"he frowned at his 3 month old who's arms flared around.
the first 2 months of Kaiylin being born, you kept him in your main bedroom at night but you wanted to test out how he would sleep on his own, and so far its not been good.
"you want mama, huh?" he picked him up, holding him close and gently bouncing his knees. He didnt smell, so it wasnt his diaper, and he had just been fed not too long ago, so it was easy for jungkook to know he just missed his mommy and daddy.
He slowly walked into the bedroom, you were about to fall asleep. "oh kai" you frown as your husband places him into the bed between you both, his body facing the smaller ones so he doesnt fall out or move around.
"aw baby" you rub his head softly, "its okay now, shh, shh"
Jungkook gives you an empathetic look, "I know you havent slept im sorry"
You shrug, "i'll nap tomorrow"
"I'll take him into my office, he can sit in his rocker while you nap"
You smile softly kissing your husband, "thanks, baby"
You had to admit, Jungkook has stepped up more than you assumed he would. Hes began to work from home, giving time for not only your little family, but especially you and him.
He has been such a help with everything, from watching Kai during the night, to cooking and cleaning for you, its been 100% teamwork since you gave birth and you couldnt thank him enough for it all,
Things were finally starting to even out and you could not have been happier, the man you married in the first place was returned back to you, in the form of a loving father.
"hes sleeping again, look" jungkook whispered
Your eyes darted to the newborn in between you and your husband, you slightly giggled, "poor thing"
"co-sleeping just works I guess" he smiled, leaning over to kiss you gently, "go back to sleep honey, ill watch him for a bit, its okay."
"I love you, thank you..." you looked at him
"I love you too sweetheart"
-
a/n- ahh! I really hope this is what you wanted, it was fun to write and follow the prompt. Thanks again for sending this in! -Nini
#bts#bts fanfic#bts smut#jungkook fluff#jungkook angst#jungkook scenarios#jeon jungkook#jungkook#jungkook drabble#bts fluff
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In which Blue kidnapped uh uh I mean went on a trip with Giangio to Elysion Boulevard!
You may be wonder “How? Why?”
The short answer is mods, BUT that answer does not do justice to the absolute JOURNEY it took to drag this little man all the way down to the streets of Krat. And I just want to share this with you cause screaming out laughter at 2AM on a discord call with friends unfortunate enough to witness this is not enough apparently XP
So! We begin at the Path of Misery.
I crash the game approximately three times trying to get him out of there. Eventually I settle on a system of teleporting him along with me and (at risk of making the game a tad less stable) freezing enemy animations to get through unharassed.
Not that that matters much for Gio cause enemies don’t care much abt NPCs but they very very much care about Pino and Pino is the lynch pin that keeps the game areas loaded under our feet.
Next was the lift. This is where I fully expected our journey to end. It almost did because Gio was not meant to be on a moving platform and would fall upwards and outwards out of the lift and into the shadow realm (he’d fall out of the world and despawn)
It took me FOUR tries to find the spot to stand so I could hold him in place so he wouldn’t fly away.
Everything went pretty smooth at Venigni works. Hilariously enough I accidentally talked to him while trying to climb a ladder and the first thing he had to say was “Ah! Mercy! I beg you! Don’t kill me!”
Nah don’t worry Gio, we’re just on a field trip.
Finally! We reach town! I’m howling with laughter and my friends are on the other end of the line like “Oh my god, you finally did it but WHY?!”
Everyone thank Pino for his hard work in helping me carry this man all the way down here👏👏👏
“Why didn’t you just spawn him in down in the city?”
Because NPCs have a string of numbers after their ID that generates upon loading the map they’re in. Therefore even if I have their ID, there’s no way to get the numbers needed to place them down. Therefore I resorted to dragging Gio through all the places linked WITHOUT load screens. So theoretically this will work for other NPCs standing around in areas linked without load screens too!
Edit: part of the Lift Experience I forgot lmao
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what the hell is going on in hell
this is essentially a braindump of ramble-y thoughts because the situation going on in hell is currently my new sub-fixation. a couple of things mentioned/shown in s2 would indicate the position that hell is currently in, and i dont think it's inaccurate to say that they appear somewhat stretched.
first up, we meet shax in ep1; she and crowley appear to have some kind of arrangement (ha) going in, where they are exchanging information - shax keeping crowley abreast of the goings on in hell, presumably so he can monitor his (and by extension - aziraphale's) safety being now an exiled retired demon... and crowley seems to be helping shax to assimilate to life topside, by means of teaching her behaviour that will mean she blends in more with humanity in her new role.
i did a post on bits of this scene, and on shax in general, that looked at how shax appears to be working somewhat with the favour of the higher-ups, possibly to the point of an unofficial informant, that would help her climb the career ladder. but i do wonder how far her allegiance lies, and actually how much she seems to know. in any case, a couple of things about this scene:
hell either doesn't know, or refuses to change, crowley's address for his post - they're still being sent to the flat in his name, and not his new abode, the bentley. furthermore, it's possibly even the case that hell hasn't even acknowledged that crowley has been replaced - they won't accept/recognise shax's signature.
however, shax appears to be very firmly in position as his replacement, and presumably has been for at least a little while. there's been a gap of 3/4 years between s1 and s2, so allowing for hell to be slow on the uptake in replacing crowley (as well as being initially shit-scared of him re: the holy water bath), plus shax is still learning things/remarking on how easy the job is, let's be really generous and say she's had the position, and the flat, for around six months. realistically though, estimating from her question about the boiler which, from crowley's tone, seems to be something that happens periodically, id say it's likely more around 1-3 months.
in any case, that's plenty of time for hell to update the records, right?*
same as crowley remarked in s1, it seems to be universally understood in hell that the ends justify the means; doesn't matter how things are done, just that they are. if shax echoes this sentiment, it supports that it must be true; hell doesn't give one shit about her interacting with crowley. this is supported by 1827; whether you look at it that crowley didn't secure elspeth's soul for hell through suicide, or that crowley was caught being good/nice in the general sense, either way it's strongly suggested that there is a consequence for him not doing the job. doesn't matter how it's done, only that it is.
ergo, hell doesn't care that shax is interacting with crowley, nor that she appears to be recruiting him as an intelligence source (despite his lackadaisical branding of 'traitor'), only that she does what she's ordered to. the issue is though, what are shax's orders at the moment? which leads me to the next one:
she lists three things, two of which don't appear to hold much importance to crowley, or at least he's not surprised by them. the first - he's still in hell's bad books: cool, not a surprise. the second, however, is the 'half rations' reveal. this brilliant post talks about this, because... well, what would demons feed on? or be interested in having, that holds any kind of importance to them? more on this later*. regardless though, crowley seems... to halfheartedly mull over the information? like its interesting, but not a major surprise? maybe it is, maybe it isn't.
the third thing though is the one that crowley perks up at: that something has happened in heaven. shax appears to admit that she doesn't know the details, and needs intelligence, which crowley brushes off. now, the thing that perplexes me is that - well, the conversation between michael and beelzebub hasn't happened yet, right?
could be that there has actually been a previous conversation between michael and beelzebub, where the news that gabriel has disappeared was revealed - and what we see above is a second conversation about the matter, now that it's gotten a little more urgent (hence the BOL threat)
or, that the two different scenes are out of chronological order... which honestly would be just plain weird.
the first option is possible, that beelzebub found out about gabriel from michael in a previous conversation (and told shax), and the one we see above is a follow-up.
but, in the crowley/shax conversation, shax doesn't actually seem to know that it's anything about gabriel, just that something's going on. so presumably, beelzebub doesn't know at that point either - not until the interaction above with michael. at which point, where did shax get her information from? how would shax have known shit was going on in heaven - even without the specifics - before it seems that even beelzebub knew? does shax have a different in-road with heaven?
(at which point, the only ones that appear to know about gabriel going missing, when it happens, is the metatron, michael, uriel, and saraqael - unless there's been a containment breach/someone else accessed the file? make of that what you will.)
*coming back to this point, on why hell hasn't gotten round to, or been bothered to, update the record that crowley is no longer an employee/in his flat, i think this is directly related simply to hell being short-staffed. i think it was mentioned in a BTS video somewhere, but the set design in hell purposefully included lots of files and folders to directly suggest that there is a huge backlog; whilst the higher-ups may be aware of shax replacing crowley, it doesn't appear to have reached the administrative offices:
as for why hell is short-staffed, ive toyed with it in previous posts/rbs but it would suggest that:
demons are disappearing - im thinking along the lines of the book of life, or just straight up being killed
demons are leaving - perhaps another mass rebellion?
demons aren't leaving but the numbers of the damned keep increasing - this, i think, is the most likely.
we don't know what the deal is with heaven, but presumably there is a separate facility for heavenly souls, and all we see in the show are the offices. in any case, it would kind of make sense that, if heaven is in fact taking its fair share of souls, even if lower-choir angels are attending to them... well, it's unlikely to extremely hands-on, is it; souls can be left to their eternal rest with minimal angelic involvement.
demons, however, are actively torturing their share of souls, such as is the purpose of hell, and this is definitely more hands-on; at which point, demons are going to be overworked/understaffed as the soul population increases. demons are only made from fallen angels, so the staffing situation is only going to get worse - hence why in s1, it was revealed not only that an estimate of 10 million demons exist, but that they would be pretty pissed about being told to go back to work. armageddon was meant to wipe out humans altogether (putting a stop to the ever increasing human population and therefore number of deaths), and bring about an eternal victory for one side or the other.
this, however, assumes that heaven is taking their fair share. i don't think it's necessarily the case that they're not (as i said, we haven't actually seen any areas where human souls exist in heaven - only the higher offices), but it's certainly possible that they're not, and they're all going to hell. at which point, why wouldn't heaven want more souls? isn't that ultimately the point of aziraphale and other earth-stationed angels? to bring about god's plan, but also sway humanity to the good? or is that the point - that human souls going to heaven or hell is inconsequential, and all that matters is the complete annihilation of one by the other?
1941 shows a bit more context for hell, in that we have what appears to be the main lobby, with multiple admissions demons (including shax and furfur) and there are chutes for transport into the lower floors/departments.
one thing i did notice as a small difference between 1941 and 2023, is the lights; this could be purely ambience/a single set design choice, but compare the scene where furfur has an audience with dagon, and the crowley/beelzebub chat - the lights in latter start flickering, like they are faulty or there is a power supply issue. this not appearing to happen in 1941 would suggest that the situation has gotten worse between these two points in time. it could just be for the ambience as i said, absolutely, but i think the line re: rations* could potentially be linked here.
another thing that interested me in 1941 is this:
pretty intriguing that the camera deliberately focuses on this, right? instead of continuing to track behind furfur? if it is Of Interest, what is the hourglass keeping time in, or counting down to? it could be the apocalypse, but if you consider the proportionality of sand in the top to the bottom, vs. the time that has passed since the Beginning vs. the next 78 years until armageddon, that seems... well, disproportionate? so could it be ticking down to something else, or does the hourglass time something, and it's just been recently flipped? at which point, why is it framed as so significant?
*returning to the "half-rations" point, there has to be due credit to this post by @that-ineffable-devil, it's such a good point; what do demons care about - is integral to their existence, and is essentially in short supply - that rationing would be necessary? crowley doesn't seem overly intrigued by the notion, but shax idly considers it important enough to share when prompted. op suggested that it's power; that there isn't enough (given that miracles appear to be drawn down from heaven/up from hell) to go around. op gave the great example of the ceiling leak in s1, but if the flickering lights, the broken lift mentioned by eric in ep5, and the excess backlog of filing in s2 is also anything to go by - yeah, these things could be solved with a demonic miracle or 'magical' intervention... so why aren't they?
gabriel cautions (putting it politely) aziraphale at some point around 1793 around using up 'frivolous miracles', which suggests that heaven was/is having a similar issue (or, alternatively, it was simply a power flex; to keep aziraphale in his place, so to speak). however, when we look at the archangels' reactions to the 25-lazarii miracle, their main concern understandably, given the plot, is what it signifies (ie. it's too coincidental to have occurred at the same time as gabriel going AWOL)... but not so much that there isn't enough power to allow a 25-lazarii miracle to go unchecked. instead, it seems like the sheer scale of it is just completely written off, that heaven doesn't actually care too much about how much power it seems to have partially drawn from heaven (ie. if it's a 50/50 split, 12.5 lz), and they seem to write it off like petty cash.
so tl;dr, hell might be having a power issue, but heaven doesn't appear to be sharing in it. i don't think it's anything to do with human souls fuelling miracles, because by the same logic (which i accept may be completely flawed. in fact id stake my life it is) the pool of power should be increasing, rather than decreasing - if more and more souls are being funnelled into hell and heaven respectively. so what if instead there's a leak somewhere - what if heaven is syphoning off power from hell? and when did the power leak start happening - was it to do with the failed apocalypse? is it actually nothing to do with heaven, but instead that because the soul population keeps going up and up, the power they actually have to contain and maintain them is stretched really thin? power can't be spared for lower-priority shit like filing and maintenance? why isn't heaven having the same issue? why is power seemingly finite, and where does it come from? does power actually come from god? or does it directly parallel to humanity's faith (and, presumably, the dwindling amount of it) in god? but heaven is closer to god, so they haven't yet been hit with the shortage?
this is still flummoxing me slightly - if there even is any answer to be had/if there's anything deeper to be read here - but the post is already long enough that it's probably best to leave it there... ideas very much welcome!!!✨
#good omens#getting this one out the drafts its burning a hole#dont have a hell tag yet so sticking this under#heaven theory#this requires more intellect than my two braincells bumping off each other and occasionally creating sparks
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hi Rane Ambassador so. tsv ep. 38 huh. it killed me my whole family all the electricity in the city and the god itself. i know i keep thinking that about every new episode but id say it’s def the best season 3 episode so far for sure right??
I’m so glad to be recognised as the Rane ambassador.
And yeah god chapter 38 is allot. It is personally my favourite episode, but also the only episode I haven’t relistened to ever. I just can’t handle it, hits too close to home.
Also I need you to know, when the show was coming out, there was a unplanned hiatus that lasted 3 months after 38 came out. So image just now hearing about anything for like multiple months RIGHT AFTER “did you hear the music?” OUGH. (It was for a valid reason but oh my god)
Okay but RANE THOUGHTS.
There’s allot I could say about this episode but in regards to specifically Rane OOHH BOY. The conversation they have with Faulkner about being chosen is so important, because Faulkner has gone the entire series believing he was special, that his trauma MEANT SOMETHING. But here, Rane is parroting a very similar sentiment to Thurrocks, which illustrates that Faulkner has never been special, and that they all just fall for this false promise of importance and meaning that can be achieved when climbing the ladder. Rane is like Faulkner, which means Faulkner isn’t special at all.
But then we get to how Rane views Faulkner. At the beginning of the episode we have this very nice moment of childhood mischief. It’s the closest they ever get to being actual friends. And Faulkner craves that closeness but he’s never really shown any real side of him, so any closeness is based on a lie because Rane doesn’t REALLY know Faulkner, or see him.
Which this is confirmed at the end. Rane’s qeustion “did you hear the music?” When Faulkner almost drowned shows Rane doesn’t care about Faulkner but only care about his connection to their god. Because that’s the only way Faulkner can be important to anyone, because he’s never tried to get close to anyone or be important to them on a emotional level. Only ever searching this connection and adoration through his religion. His connection with Rane being the natural result of that.
Uh so yeah I think they’re intresting….I’m so normal about them, also this is probably really incoherent
#I can never have a short answer to a ask#I always gotta yap…#the silt verses#tsv#ask#sibling rane#brother faulkner#ranefall
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EVERYTHING IN THIS POST IS ABOUT THE CUBITOS!!!
idk about you guys but it truly feels like no one can fully be trusted with the eggs safeties.
i mean, the most trusted people with eggs have always been phil, forever, and bad, but its so clear that forever has not for Many months been in the right mental state to be reliable.
and it isn't just him in this corrupted state, or when he was on happy pills. its the fact that he continues to intrust his health with the federation. thats dangerous, and im surprised no ones picked up on it server wise. his impulsive mindset is so bad and endangers the eggs to a crazy extent. not to mention he is currently trying to (and actually) shoot them.
and honestly, forever shouldn't have full access to the ninho anymore, even though he created it. it's supposed to be safe. and while it isn't fully safe regardless, forever being corrupted makes it fully unusable.
for phil and bad, i don't think their trust should be revoked as much as forever's, but you can't deny how dangerous either could be if set off (which i only see bad close to with the soul vulture infection mixed with radiation poisoning)
it kinda amazes me how much trust they put in bad still. because hes shown how easily he can be triggered, and lose his memories. that is a prime opportunity for manipulation and/or egg endangerment. hell, bagi saw him both struggle to climb a ladder and get triggered while with richas. and she can understand much more as a mom about that even with how little em has been in danger so far.
phil i think is fine to look after eggs (currently) but i still have stuff to say about him. he out of the three has the least amount of trust put in him, yet shown time and time again his stability, dedication, and passion for the eggs. yet because he already takes care of two eggs, and never participated in ninho, he doesn't get as much credit as he should.
this isn't to say phil is the perfect choice mentally to protect the eggs, no. phil literally has a biome destroying selfish bitch of a king after him and is causing him to question reality. which, yknow, isn't any sign of father mental stability.
i don't really have anyone id consider the best parent on the server. but i keep thinking about how much trust people put in forever and its killing me.
#qsmp analysis#qsmp#qsmp forever#qsmp badboyhalo#qsmp philza#q!forever#q!badboyhalo#q!philza#qsmp bbh#qsmp eggs
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the ways in which we are So Fucking Back, cannot even BEGIN to be communicated.
[Splinter Forever. Story: lloyd Goldfine. Art: Khary Randolph Colours: Emilio Lopez Letters: Tom Napolitano and Shawn Lee]
[ID: 03 show styled comic, the turtles crowd around splinter with looks of concern/relief. Splinter doing his best to hug them all back but saying "You so know I could have freed myself anytime I wished too..." Splinter narration: ...And, even if given forever... END] Next narration: I could not have dreamed of one better.
idw 40th anniversary book. various caps i took cause i really liked them (by they way the few stories i did NOT cap is not cause i didnt like em by any means. and for some it was cause i was TOO SAD! i liked them SO MUCH! they HURT to LOOK AT. kay thx)
book creds. Editor: Nicolas Niño. Supervising Editor: Jamie S. Rich. Design: Nathan Widick
might as well start with the 03 one cause its already up there
[ID: 1. Action shot the turtles jumping thru a window, in varied cool poses, rimlit in blue moonlight. Leo: Mikey, thin out the foot! Donnie, free Splinter! Shredder's mine! Raph: I got hun! Mikey, singing: Turtles, count it off! Splinter, narrating: Here, I speak not of mutation… but of my sons, could I ever have dreamed I would become a father. 2. Action shot of turtles and Splinter together, all yelling a "Hai-yah!" Splinter narration: Never has there been a father prouder of his children. END]
ur reminder that 03 is the one that was literally just a rat b4 mutation. sometimes life hands u 4 reptiles and some weird alien go and u go. okay these are my beautiful children now
and you know the tweets like. i gotta accept u didnt make the tmnt? u gotta accept youll DIDNT draw a rat this SICK. his swag. unparalleled.
[ID: Splinter punching the Shredder, cropped close, the line of motion accented by his rodent features, carrying from his tail and digitigrade leg, to the pointed tip of his snout. His fur nicely emphasized from show style. END]
okay in presented order now. (again. only the ones im emotionally strong enough for) it opened with eastman's, four pages to a poe poem, Deep lorey in its own way. ALSO SAD!
[Monsters. Story, Art and Letters: Jim Lawson Colours: Steve Lavigne]
[ID: A very squared jaw turtle style, bold black likes of varying thickness, lots of hashing. It's Raph turning to look over his shoulder with a "Hmp", mask tails flowing behind his head. END]
eeeeee lookit him. mwah. [me explaining] u see. mirage turtles. there so lumpy. and thats EXCELLENT
[Gang Wars. Story: Tristan Jones. Art: Paul Harmon Letters: Tom Napolitano]
[ID: Rounded head, prominent beak, almost movie puppet turtle style. Art has strong penwork , filled with hatching, but soft impressionistic colours, looking both loose yet detailed. 1. Mike is carrying a women as he climbs a ladder. She's tipped almost complete upside down over his shell. Her narration: You perspective shifts... Soft pinkish hue lights them from below. 2. Mike jumping from the roof with a cheerful "Gotta run!", smiling and offering as salute, both nunchaku in hand. Warm golden light hitting his front as he's half turned. END]
HI. I dont recognize your name (YET) Mr harmon sir. but would u like my award for most gorgeous colour rendering on any mutant turtles ever ever in the whole wide world. (sobbing) mikey.... my boy. my beloved loved boy
(there was comics also repping the image and archies runs here. neither of which ive read yet, SORRY. all the same they were both VERY CHARMING)
[What About Tomorrow. Story: Eric Burnham. Art: Sarah Myer Colour: Luis Antonio Delgado Letters: Shawn Lee]
[ID: 87 show styled comic. Raph is quipping to the villain (or perhaps the audience) "Don't tell me… Sherlock Holmes?" He has a hand on hip, side eyeing Donnie very strongly and says "Don't give me that look, Donatello. He said guess!" Don is looking at him so incredibly flatly. END]
have u literally very seen something more perfect than that. look at their fucking FACESSSSS. urghh. characterization? perfect. u can hear it. i controlled myself here. i didnt cap the entire fucking comic
[ID: Splinter smiling, eyes close, we see what he is reminiscing on. His human self, reading a book and holding the for normal baby turtles. He say "When I was Hamato Yoshi, I could never have guessed I'd become a mutant rat. Or that I would raise four turtles into heroes I am endlessly proud of. END]
LOOK AT THIS FUCKING RAT. and his turtle sons. (he doesnt call them sons in this cartoon but their his fuckinngggg sons.)
splinter forever we covered.
[Kraang Among Us. Story and Art: Ciro Nieli Letters: Shawn Lee]
[ID: A 2012 show styled comic, Nieli's style having a punky marker quality to it in comic form. 1. Drawn small, the turtles character-fully posed. Raph casual and aside, Leo earnest out front, Mikey excited and ready, Donnie last, interest in a beeping gadget. 2. Leo bowing on the ground solemn/serene. 3. Graphically bold panel, Mikey has a hand up, smiling cockily, saying "STOP! …My turn. Hit it, Ice Cream Kitty!" Ice cream kitty, (indeed a cat made of Neopolitan) Clicks on a boom box. 4. Donnie says "This can't be good…", with a look of shock at his gadget, wall of text Beeping behind him. A sort of pink viscera explosion just barely in view. END]
which im particular stunned by seeing nieli's creations rendered in 2 dimensions. they looks so fucking good! tho, from all the other aesthetic makers within the show, it totally make sense, the sort of, graphic pop grime. donnie in partic looks so cute, feel like his look is possible BETTER suited for this than the cg, sorry stringbean.
no raph stunner shot sorry he was only in like 2 panels lol.
Rises "Farewell Story" was here. In which Andy Suriano made me cry and cheer and. GUH. look on the internet. u might see some shit. Also a showing from IDW mainline in "Father's Day"... can u maybe GUESS? fantastic gut punch.
[Teen Spirit: Story: Ronda Pattison Art: Pablo Tunica Letters: Tom Napolitano]
[ID: The current mainline comics look, influence from Campbell. The turtles are round and bulky, a light touch used defining the contours of their heads. Wearing grey lose clothes and white limb wraps. Clean detailed black line, water colour like detailed render. All five turtles in a rocky forest, various states of concentration to summon colour coded magic energies. Jennika on her stomach, kicking feat, playful. Leo hunched close to his, looking intent. Raph with tongue out, first in one hand. Donnie, in eyes closed mediation. Mikey, his hands over head, a rain of fallen leaves from his dispersed magic. He says "Whoops!" END]
Pattison I recconize as a prolific idw turtle colourist. tunica i dont but is another i WILL have to be on the look out for. who doesnt like the sophie campbell era of turtle. they are SOOOO. everything. to me.
bro. which fucking continuity has them all so fucking cute magic hijinks mentored by the SHREDDER. cant wait to find out (i think there was some ghilbi visual ref moments esp. in his panels. VERY CUTE. lord help us all) looook at them. look at raph :p. LOOK AT JENNY JENNY JENNIKA.
okay. thats it. hey guys? turtles is good.
#some shit#turbles...#idw placeholder tag#kjdgjhsdf Okay YAAAAAY. finished this yesterday but decided to WAIT. until i had. less sleep deprived eyes to check my words lol#i loooooove u turtles. i love fictional characters of turtles i love u. turtles as a history of comic story telling. i loooooove.#art. and narrative. in sequence. and the ppl who make it. wahhhhh
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