#no one gets you like me Bill..... I mean what

[petersparkerrs]

back where we started

୨ৎ ୨ৎ ୨ৎ

- pairing: dark!joel x fem!reader

- summary: joel is a horrible partner post-outbreak. he yells. isn't too nice. fucks.

- warnings: dark!!! dubcon, slapping, choking, hair tugging, unprotected piv (don't do this guys!), smut smut smut smut, degrading, yelling, no established relationship, rough sex, crying, unsafe sex, angry sex, joel has crazy anger issues, blood, huggeee nasty age gap (legal, though! your choice for age), public / outdoor sex, size kink, joel's got a massive dick lols, power imbalance, submission, no aftercare, squirting, dirty talk, thigh riding if you squint, manhandling, joel is just incredibly mean. total asshole.

- word count: 4.5k

- author’s note: feining for mr joel miller recently so i wrote this... my first joel fic!! its gross yall. have your fun though!

—————————————୨ৎ

Partnering up with Joel Miller wasn’t ideal. He’s always looking at you like you’re some problem he doesn’t know how to solve – like you’re just cargo he’s exhausted of having to drag along. 

You don’t want to admit it, but he’s honestly an asshole. A real fucking dick, a mean bastard. To everyone else you meet, you’re a well loved, sweet girl. To Joel, though, you’re a burden. He’s a miserable person, and hanging around him only came with the positive that he knew how to hunt, how to keep you decently safe. But, hey, it’s better to be stuck with a brute of a man than to be infected. Right?

For whatever reason, the frustration has been building worse than usual for the past few days. You move like you’re on eggshells, do anything to not upset him, stay quiet when you’re asked and obey his every order. But it’s Joel fucking Miller. Nothing is ever enough with him. 

You’re young, but that's not a valid excuse for Joel. He expects as much out of you as he would another man his size and seniority, which is totally unfair of a girl your age.

So every little mistake ticks him off. Really riles him up. His temper is really fired up today for whatever reason, and you’re trying your best to not exacerbate it. 

—————————————୨ৎ

Joel should know now your most common flaws – he does pay attention, but that mind of his was too preoccupied with his fresh plan to head east to remember just how forgetful you tend to be. 

You remember twenty minutes after you leave. Everything is packed up, rifle on Joel’s thick shoulder, sleeping bags taken from Bill and Frank’s now deserted house strapped to your backs. Everything but one thing. And arguably, the most important thing for the new change of route. 

“Can y’get me out the map, girl?”

Girl. He always insists on calling you that. Rather derogatory, like he doesn’t wanna address you by a human name. Just girl.

At the question, your steps stutter. A little patch of dirt kicked up from your shoe hits the back of Joel’s calf, earning a soft grunt. “You fuckin’ deaf now? I said gimme the damn map.”

He knows what your silence means, and in that moment he's about to lose his goddamn mind. His feet stop bluntly, his large, brooding frame turning to face you. 

Your pace slows soon after him, halting to a nervous stop while your gaze flickers from its usual spot on the ground up into his dark eyes. A warning look.

“Better not tell me you lost the fuckin’ thing.” 

No words come out of your mouth, let alone even pop into your head; all you can seem to do is stare up at him like a mindless idiot, his height towering over yours when he takes a small step closer.

Again, your steps follow, this time backward. You stumble back half a foot, a twig cracking under the shift of your weight. Out of nervous habit, your left hand reaches for the right wrist, gently stroking the skin to keep yourself somewhat calm.

“Joel, I didn’t–”

His movements match your own, his large, calloused hands lurching forward to rip your hand off your wrist. It gets replaced with his own grip, but much tighter. Aggressive. Taut. Outraged. 

“Y’didn’t what? Didn’t think for once how t’not be a goddamned idiot?” He snarls, his untamed fingernails digging into the skin for a moment and leaving tiny crescents into the first layer. “Why d’you always gotta be like this, girl? Fuckin’ stupid…”

He trails off, removing his tight grip on your forearm, but not without hostility. He lets go but ends it with a good yank. Not hard enough to pop it out of place, but hard enough to get a quiet whimper out of your shy throat.

You never know what to say when he gets like this. Whether to defend yourself, whether to stay shut up and take the tirade. But you sure know well enough not to fight back – that’s how to get your arm pulled out of the socket.

“I–I swear, Joel. I had it, I don’t know where it went.”

He never takes your stupid excuses. They’re useless, he’ll never believe you. He knows that you know you forgot it at the last spot you camped out. And this time, the excuse was a pathetic mumble, your eyes glued at your wrist and the mark he left when he gripped it. Even more to make your pitiful case unconvincing. 

“Yeah, the hell you do. Quit lyin’, you know damn well where that map is.” He scoffs, brushing past you with a shove to the shoulder, his larger figure knocking you a few inches with a soft oof. “Back in the woods where you left it, ain’t it?”

Of course, you can’t plead your case anymore. You give in, nodding in submission and trudging after him once he turns around, back in the direction where you surely left the damn map. 

“...Yeah.” You murmur, rubbing a dry hand across the bottom half of your face, against your snotty nose. Not because you’d been crying, this is nothing from Joel yet. Just because the month has been terribly cold and sleeping outside every night isn’t doing you well. “At our last camp. M’sorry.”

“Always fuckin’ sorry. Sorry for almost gettin’ yourself killed, sorry for forgetting somethin’ again and again. M’sick of your shit.” He grunts, readjusting the rifle strapped over his shoulder. 

When you first met him, words like that got to you, as much as you hate to admit it. But now, everything seems to fade together. He’s just Joel. That’s how he is. And you’ve gotta live with it and try your best to not piss him off. 

To your luck, he shuts up and stops berating you – at least until you’re close to the previous camp spot. Just silence, interrupted only by the awkward shuffling of your steps behind him, desperately trying to keep up with his longer strides and stay quiet to not worsen his anger.

But when you get close enough and he has to start looking for the damned map, his mumbling and annoyance boils over once again, infiltrating the somewhat comfortable silence that your ears just got used to.

“Map was the only fuckin’ thing getting us around… no goddamn compass.” Joel mutters under his breath. Not at you, for once, but just a natural spilling of his frustration. He’s always gotta be mumbling about something, even in his sleep. “Slow me down enough as is. Gotta lose everythin’, too.”

You joined aimlessly behind him, searching around the patchy grass, anywhere for the map that was stressing him out so terribly. 

Minutes go by. He’s getting angrier by the minute, his hands flexing while he crouches down and searches. Mad, but still pretty tame for a pissed-off Joel Miller. 

That is, until he glances up and actually gets a look at you for the first time in an hour. He normally avoids any eye contact, avoids even peeking over at you. At that damn little frame… so much younger, sweeter. He seemingly hates having you around because you always tick him off, but what he hates more is the temptation that comes with having a pretty little girl by his side at all times.

He finally lets his eyes fall on you. But this time, he can’t even get his usual peek at your lips or neck, because something else catches his eye. A familiar shred of paper – just the fucking corner – poking out the zipper of your backpack. 

He genuinely slaps himself in the face, eyes turning dark and fists curling up in pure rage at the sight.

“Are you fucking kidding me.”

He growls. Not a question, but a threat. His eyes are black at this point, breath speeding up while he takes another step toward you. Not cautious like he’ll sometimes let himself be, but warring. 

You’re confused for a bit, as you hadn’t seen the map in your own bag. Or even thought to look before you turned around and walked a half hour back, a complete waste of your time. “Oh…”

He starts again, his voice much lower than usual. Dangerous.

“You wanna tell me…” Joel breathes, stepping towards you even more until he’s got you backed against a tree. Bark pushing your shirt and jacket up, scraping at the bare skin of your lower back. “Why the hell we just wasted an hour of our time, when the map was practically right in your fuckin’ hand!”

As he curses, your heart drops. You don’t have time to react before his hands are up, flying at you. You flinch, thinking they’re coming to hurt you, but they’re reaching into your backpack. 

And sure enough, there it is. The map you spent so much valuable time fussing over. Right on your damn back. 

‘I didn’t know, Joel. Didn’t think to check.” You whimper and choke out from the back of your throat, weak and apologetic. Again, he’s not one for excuses and apologies. He’s on you before you can even think, hand forcing the map in your face.

His palm hits your mouth when he shoves the paper, a direct blow to your jaw. Your lip comes in forced contact with your bottom row of teeth, tearing the skin and swelling instantly. The only thing that can escape your mouth now is a pained whimper, which agitates the furious man on top of you worse. 

“Fuckin’ idiot. Wastin’ my damn time like always. Do you ever think?” He scoffs and backs up, maybe half an inch. 

When he notices your slightly busted lip, it brings him a sense of triumph. You ticked him off and now you’re gonna pay for it. And you sure enough feel guilty enough to not stop him, so he’s got you trapped now.

You’re frozen in place against the tree, refusing to move or utter out even the smallest of another noise. Suddenly, Joel’s mind is more occupied by the girl under his grip, shaking like a damn leaf with a bleeding and busted lip. 

“Asked you a question, little shit.” He grunts and lets his hand venture up to your jaw, pushing it around like a toy before settling with a tight grip, squeezing your cheeks and watching how the blood oozes from your lip at the pressure. “Said, do you ever fuckin’ think?”

Sure, he’s yelled at you plenty, disciplined you, maybe put his hands on you out of frustration a couple of times before. But it never feels like this. His hands usually let up after they land on you, but now he’s squeezing at your face and looking into your hazy eyes as if this is a challenge.

“Mm.” You whine, throat bobbing while you adjust to the feeling of his huge hand gripping your face. “N-no.” 

Your voice is only the softest of a mutter. 

“Speak up, girl. Didn’t hear ya’.” He rolls his eyes, giving your face a nice knead and jerking it to the side to jolt you up more. 

A shuddering breath leaves your mouth, head jerking to the right at the flick of his wrist. He holds it against the tree, your ponytail getting caught on the rough edge of the bark, the lumber scraping your ear.

“No. Don’t–don’t ever think enough. M’sorry. Wasn’t… wasn’t thinkin’.”

You sigh, head lifting up while you feel the familiar sensation of your throat tightening up, eyes starting to burn. But you keep it in. 

Joel hums, jerking your head again and shoving it harder onto the hard bark. “Damn right. Don’t think. A fuckin’ burden on me.”

He’s not doing it because he’s mad anymore. Hell, he’s already forgotten about the stupid map that caused all of this. He’s doing it to get a rise out of you.

And you know that’s all he wants.

His gaze is different, his tone similar to but not matching the genuine anger you hear from him most of the time. There's a hint of more challenge in it, maybe even passion. The hand on your jaw only confirms that.

“Shoulda’ left you behind when I got the chance.” He mutters, knowing that threatening to leave you really gets under your skin. Honestly, he’s all that you have, and you’d be dead without him. So that always seems to hurt a little more than some name calling. 

You don’t react, gulping and keeping still at his arduous words. Getting no reaction from you riles him up worse, his free hand coming down to strike at the wood above your head. You flinch, and a tear unpromptedly rolls down your cheek. You don’t feel it until Joel curses, laughing in disbelief and moving his hand from your jaw down to your throat.

He squeezes. Not tight, not yet. A groan escapes his throat, low and almost pained. And before you know it, he’s got his body pressed against yours, rubbing you uncomfortably into the rotting tree. 

“Such a fuckin’ mess.” He grunts, one hand around your throat to cut off any words and the other moving to your chin to move your gaze up to him. “Cryin’ like a baby when you were the one that lost the map.” 

Your pulse jumps when he degrades you, and he swears he sees something else in your eyes this time. Not the usual fear, but something that looks like arousal. 

It sparks something in him, and he wants to see it again. His hand tightens on your neck, earning a pained gasp from your pretty throat. Your eyes lock, and he watches your head tilt back against the tree, your eyes fluttering slightly.

He can’t take much more. A tiny whimper comes out of you when his knee presses against your thigh. 

That’s it. That’s fucking it.

Joel growls. Low. Frustrated. He gives up on the choking, instead gripping the back of your head and taking hold of your messy ponytail. He tugs, tilting your head more, his big aquiline nose moving down to bump under your ear and rub along the cold curve of your jaw. 

“Fuck’s wrong with you?” He whispers, his unkempt scruff that he calls a beard brushing up against you, scratching deep into the skin he just had a hand wrapped around. “Feel you gettin’ turned on. Fuckin’ slut, getting all worked up when I’m angry with you.”

You can’t do anything but take his advances and cry softly, feeling the cotton of your panties dampening each time his gruff voice comes out against your ear, his harsh breath biting at your neck. 

“Don’t got time for th’shit.” He mutters, but you hear his resolve dropping. He’s getting less and less frustrated over you wasting time, but more frustrated over the fact that he’s got his knee between your legs and he can feel the heat seeping through the fabrics, even in the biting cold weather. “Don’t got time for you makin’ me… makin’ me–ngh.”

His words stop, replaced by a low grunt into your ear the second your body even twitches against his. The grip on your ponytail tightens, tugging backward and earning a needy whine from you.

As much as he wants to keep degrading you, making you feel worthless under him, he’s feeling pretty pathetic himself. And he never gets like this with women.

His nose bumps your ear one more time before he can’t take it – his lips crash into yours. It’s not friendly. It’s not intimate. It’s fucking rude.

He intrudes, letting go of your hair and grabbing your body instead to push you against the damn tree harder. Mouths battle, and he wins, nipping hard and tasting the metallic blood from where he busted your lip earlier. Yum. 

“Joel.” You whimper, finally. It’s music to his ears, but he can’t show that. He has to be tough, not show that he’s into this. Not into the young girl he’s supposed to be training.

Joel grumbles, bringing a hand up to mindlessly slap at the side of your face at the sound of your whimper. 

“Shut up.”

And you do.

You’d do anything he told you right now. The feeling of him slapping you, biting your lips, pressing his thick knee between your thighs has got you absolutely pathetic. It’s fucking disgusting, you know that. To be so grossly into the fifty-six year old man that’s been taking care of you, the one that relentlessly bullies you and makes you feel like a worthless burden.

But you like it. You’d be anything for him, even if it meant being a worthless, pathetic burden. 

Joel’s got control. Obviously. His hand that slapped you runs over the heated skin in the same spot, almost to soothe it. What a gentleman. His lips slow on yours for a moment, latching onto the neck he had his hand around earlier instead.

In the deep woods, the only sounds heard are the birds above and his angry gasps against your skin, breathing like a madman. The softer sounds are interrupted by one of his belt clinking, being unbuckled mindlessly. And then the rustle of fabric. And then the unfamiliar sound of denim against Joel’s rough skin.

He’s straining against his boxers. Hard. Harder than he thinks he may ever have, but you don’t know that. You can tell he’s big through the fabric. It’s a thought that’s crossed your mind maybe once or twice, but you would never have expected for it to be pressed against your thigh, dangerous amounts of precum slowly leaking through the thin fabric of his briefs. 

You distract yourself while he gets busy attacking your neck and working your pants off – you don’t wanna believe it. Joel Miller is about to fuck you. He slapped you, choked you, degraded you, sure. That’s believable. But now he’s going to fuck you with that giant cock of his. 

As if it helps you not give in too much, you look everywhere to try and distract yourself. Down. His boxers read CALVIN KLEIN at the top. Up. The top button of his flannel came undone. He’s got a lot of chest hair. Behind him. There’s a bird watching him gnaw at your neck and tear your pants off, watching his bulging cock rub against your covered thigh. 

And the map is on the ground behind him.

“Fuck you lookin’ at?” He finally interrupts your private session of ‘I spy,’ breathing heavy against your skin and cupping your clothed cunt through your panties. “Look at me.”

You look up, gaze locking with his again. His eyes are equally as dark, but not with anger anymore. Desire. 

He’s gripping extra hard, hands splayed across your waist – almost big enough to wrap around, to grip you real good. Joel’s eyes travel all down your body in ways he’s only ever dreamed of, your pants torn down and now discarded on the forest floor. 

“Gonna fuck the stupidity right outchya’, yeah?” He chuckles, hoisting your body up to keep you settled between him and the tree. “‘N I want you lookin’ at me while I do it, kay’, girl? Eyes up. C’mon now.”

You can do nothing but oblige. Your eyes dart up, staying on him, even when he pulls his cock out that you so badly want to get a look at. The sound of him stroking himself, little grunts escaping his throat mindlessly, is so fucking tempting. 

But you listen, eyes staying on him, hoping to get some kind of praise from him for the first time in your life. Or maybe you want to keep getting debased. Maybe both. You seem to like the shame of it. 

“Gonna fuck you s’good you never forget anythin’ again. M’still pissed about that map, y’hear me?” He grunts, lifting you effortlessly to move his cock up into place. He’s so strong, and you’re so little. He can manhandle you however he wants, use you for his pleasure. And maybe you want that. 

From your mouth slips an obedient hum, your head shaking in a little nod so he knows you’re listening. You swear you see the corner of his mouth quirk up in a smirk, but he replaces it within half a second with a grumble to maintain the tough guy look. 

His cock meets your slick after he pulls your panties to the side, not bothering to take them off. You’re not worth the time. Not after wasting that time with the map debacle. 

The pulsing head of it drags along your slit, collecting a bit of you on the tip, making a filthy mix with his precum. It’s been a minute since any intimacy for Joel, but he can’t let you know anything. Can’t show any kind of vulnerability. He keeps it in, biting his lip and grunting to avoid any embarrassing soft noises.

“Ain’t stoppin’ if you can’t take it, by th’way.” He grumbles into your ear, his tip just barely edging into your soaked cunt. You whimper, and he squeezes your waist in warning. If he didn’t have to be holding you up, he’d have hit you again. 

But, the soft noises you let out make him want more. You seem to let them out when you’re scared – or maybe it's out of arousal. Only from when he totally degrades you. He doesn’t care, he just wants to fuck you senseless.

“Could break ya’ if I wanted. Little… tight fuckin’ pussy.” He groans, head hitting the tree next to yours when his cock finally slides in. It was a fight to get in, your tight walls not stretched enough for his fat dick to fit due to your lack of experience. “Take ya’ how I fuckin’ want.’

If this was any other man, you’d cry and beg for him to stop. But Joel. It’s Joel. Joel fucking Miller. 

It hurts, but his threatening words seem to egg you on. They prod you to take it, try harder to take the thick cock that’s splitting your body right in half.

He doesn’t start slow like some guys. Joel doesn’t start slow. Ever. Joel Miller fucks, and he fucks how he wants. This isn’t about you, this is about him getting his worth back after you wasted all his damn time. 

His hips slam into you at an alarming pace, no time for you to stretch out and adjust to the movement. He’s already hitting deep enough to where, if your shirt was off, you could see the print all the way in your stomach. But no. Your shirt is on. Joel Miller doesn’t care enough to worry about a shirt, that’s foolish. He just wants pussy – no, needs it. He’s a man with priorities. 

You’re screaming, pain and pleasure. Usually he’d tell a woman to ‘shut the fuck’ up for being too loud, but you’re in the middle of the woods. Nobody around, except for the same fucking bird that’s continuing to watch you get destroyed and ripped open by a fifty-six year old. Great.

“God, baby. You’re fuckin’ helpless.” He grunts into your neck, resolve slowly slipping more. His noises get worse, louder. He doesn’t care enough anymore to pretend like this is some chore. 

He’s fucking you and he means it. 

Joel’s hips stutter after a few minutes, just in time with your own. Synced up perfectly. His rhythm is getting out of pace while you feel the pull deep in your core you haven’t felt in so long – white hot pooling in your stomach. You clench around him.

He can’t speak anymore, just like how you haven’t been able to for minutes now. All he can manage out are little grumbles into your hair, squeezing your body while he struggles with words. Getting pathetic himself.

“Fuckin’-- mm. Baby. Baby. Gon’cum soon.” 

At least he warns you. 

You could tell, anyway. The stuttering of his hips, the way he’s only hitting nice and deep now. But you’re in worse, you can’t warn him because your mouth is hung open entirely, spilling out the most pitiful string of moans that doesn’t seem to ever end. 

Without warning, you clench again. He groans, but gets louder when he feels you spill. Burst. All over his aching cock. 

“Shit, shit. You – you squirtin’?” Joel grumbles out, body spasming at the feeling of your liquids all coming out at once. Your legs are shaking, and he feels his own limbs join in. It was too much for him. 

He cums. Hard. Maybe harder than he ever has before, but you don’t have to find that bit out. 

The moment melts into a disgusting mess of simultaneous moans, whimpers, even from Joel. Despite the cold weather that was almost making you sick earlier, you feel hot. Sweaty. Both of  you.

Joel’s head comes to rest atop yours, stroking the back of your ponytail that he’d been tugging at the whole time. And for a moment – just a short moment – you thought he’d maybe take care of you after. Like a real man. 

But no. Apparently, you don’t know Joel well enough by now. He’s his own kind of man.

Once his breathing returns – somewhat – he’s back to ole’ Joel Miller. Grunts, huffs and drops you down by the tree. Tucks his spent cock back in. Before you know it, before you can speak, his pants and belt are back in place and his rifle is strapped back on his shoulder.

Your eyes shut, back scraped up from the rough tree he fucked you relentlessly against. Taking a shuddering breath, you rest for a moment, thinking that if he didn't give you any aftercare he’d at least let you have a moment to breathe. 

But again, no.

“Fuck you doin’?” 

Your single moment of silence is rudely interrupted by his southern drawl, entirely back to normal as if he didn’t have the most intense sex of his life only two minutes ago. As if forgetting it ever happened. 

And the map is back in his hand. And he looks so normal compared to you. And it makes you want to cry for whatever reason. 

There’s nothing else to do but hold back a pained whine from the soreness already building in your body, the blood you feel dripping on your back from the tree, and the metal taste of blood where he hit your lip. The slap on your cheek. The handprint on your throat. Fuck.

“C’mon, little shit. Gotta hurry. Now you wasted an hour of my time.”

[uyuforu]

Groom/ Briede Asteroids in Hehe (200002) Persona Chart

©uyuforu All Rights Reserved; Do not copy work.

Pictures found on Pinterest, Dividers from Tumblr; Credits go to owners.

⌞The cursed photoshoot but she is so stunning there.⌝

୨ৎ How your Spouse will be in your Marriage*.ﾟ

Only check for your Hehe Persona Chart.

READINGS BOOKING

email adress: tarotjunoboda@gmail.com

Soft To You presentation and Q&A ᡣ𐭩 rules ᡣ𐭩 private readings reviews

astrology menu ᡣ𐭩 tarot menu ᡣ𐭩 special astrology & tarot readings

Tip Jar: paypal ⟡ buy me a coffee

ʚɞ.ᐟ In Signs & Degrees

-` If you have a 0°, just ignore it, it doesn't mean anything in the degree theory. Moreover, it can just add more intensity to the Sign and House placement. ´-

-`♡´- Aries, 1°, 13°, 25° -`♡´-

Your Spouse after marriage can be someone who is very a leader in the marriage, you can marry someone who will lead your couple, who will lead the house but also who will be firm about what they want. People who had Aries placements on their asteroids often married someone who def was the "master of the house". And often it was women who married leader men. Your Spouse is the kind of Spouse to handle everything, they can often do it in a good way, meaning they can take care of the house, the bills, anything needed to be fixed in the house for example. But sometimes it can also be about they handle how things go, and it can turn into a dynamic where the spouse will really decide about anything without consulting you much. So be careful, and it also depends on the rest of the placement. Otherwise, it can be a Spouse that likes PDA and that enjoys physical touch as a love language.

-`♡´- Taurus, 2°, 14°, 26° -`♡´-

Your Spouse after marriage can be the very chill and calm partner. They can often appear and make you feel as very calm, and you can have a sensation that they can really calm you whenever you are stressed. Your Spouse can perhaps gain a bit of weight after marriage, perhaps you'll love eating together, you'll be a foodie couple. Your Spouse can also want to often buy you many things as gifts, they can love to spoil you. They can be very romantic also with you, keeping the romance in perhaps basic acts but it's the small acts that count the most. Your Future Spouse can also think that bringing money in the home is on of their responsibility. They may also wanna take care of the money and handle the bills. But def, your Spouse will be someone who will make you feel less anxious, they will def want you to be relaxed with them, yourself, it's a very calm and soft placement to have. People who have this placement over their asteroids were less anxious after marrying their Spouse.

-`♡´- Gemini, 3°, 15°, 27° -`♡´-

Your Spouse after marriage could want to keep their thirst for knowledge high. And actually, this can be a placement that indicates your Spouse desire to become more cultivated and smart after marriage. FS could want to learn more skills or more about their knowledge, hobbies, etc. Your Spouse could also read more after marriage, or they could also decide to learn a new language, etc. Your Spouse will be a curious and smart lad, they can also be more extroverted in marriage, and you can also feel like you get along so well with them, meaning you can share a close and deep bond with Spouse after marriage, not only based on romance, but also on your friendship. You could feel like you and your Spouse get along well, talk about many things, there could be debates, but you could also have the feeling you and your Spouse can understand each other more after Marriage. The kind of Marriage where you feel like you can telepathically understand each other. The kind of Marriage where you often go on dates and discover new things or go out often together. Often seeing friends or inviting friends over.

-`♡´- Cancer, 4°, 16°, 28° -`♡´-

Lol so, this one is quite particular, because I often saw that men had this placement when their spouse were the one handling the house and being the leader in the relationship. This was the placement that repeated often in this case, literally always. People who have a Cancer placement here will have Spouse that are very stronger leader when it comes to the home and family. The Spouse can often be quite the one handling everything, and telling everyone what to do when it comes to the house. You'll def have a Spouse who your children will listen to clearly, and if they ask you to do something in the house, you'll def do it. Your Spouse can be someone who is a strong parental figure, so perhaps your Spouse will want children, but it can also mean your Spouse will be emotional too. Your Spouse can be sensitive, emotional, and they can bring your emotional side of yours. Your Spouse can be moody sometimes and their moods are highly depending on their moods. You'll have a strong soft spot for your Spouse.

-`♡´- Leo, 5°, 17°, 29° -`♡´-

Your Spouse after marriage can be very proud of marrying you. You could marry someone who will be very lovey covey with you, and who will also be quite generous. Perhaps a Spouse that will be very loving with you, someone you'll also adore and admire. You could also have a Spouse that can be more popular than you or somehow a Spouse that is well known. This can also be marrying someone who has money. But you can also have more popularity thanks to your Spouse. Your Spouse could make everything fun with you after marriage, you could feel like you have the most interesting life after marriage thanks to them. You could also think your FS is quite clingy with you, and adores you. Your Spouse can also be a leader of some sort, but you'll def have a feeling they have a soft spot for you. But Spouse can also have a sort of ego.

-`♡´- Virgo, 6°, 18° -`♡´-

Your Spouse after marriage can be more perfectionist, they can be more detailed oriented, they could also "notice" things more. They can also prefer to stick with a routine more after marrying you perhaps too. They can also want to focus more on their job, being more productive, they could want to work harder in their job. Perhaps they could in fact care more about what they do as a job because they could desire to be more established in society or gain more money. But this could also be a sign of a Spouse that wishes to improve and be a better version of themselves after marriage. This can be about physical health or mental health. Your Spouse could so desire to seek for a therapist or also hit the gym more.

-`♡´- Libra, 7°, 19° -`♡´-

Your Spouse after marriage can be pretty nice, kind, and you can feel like they are the sweetest with you. They will be a spouse that value romance in your marriage, so often taking you on dates, expecting dates, a Spouse that will gift you romantic gifts, or spending sweet moments together. Whatever your Spouse will give to you, they will expect the same in return. Spouse will also be a very fair partner in your marriage. They will also value communication rather than screaming at each other, there is a desire to respect each other with this placement. Your Spouse will also value looking good and presentable in the marriage, they will often want to take care of themselves because they think they need to keep the romance high in the marriage.

-`♡´- Scorpio, 8°, 20° -`♡´-

This can be a very passionate and intense Spouse, they can be quite intense indeed with how they feel, but also the kind to show you their love in a passionate way. So be ready. Your Spouse can be very physical indeed but they can just also feel very intensely about their feelings, so they will be very honest and they will value your relationship. You'll have a Spouse which is very serious and the commitment you made. You can also have a Spouse that is very emotional and feels things intensely, very sensitive as well, but they are the type to hide it well. They can handle stress or pain if it means making you feel better. A very self-less Spouse. But this means your Spouse can be very secretive as well, they can keep secret from you and they can also accept your keep secrets from you. They do trust you and still expect the same with you.

-`♡´- Sagittarius, 9°, 21° -`♡´-

Your Spouse after marriage can be someone who is very chill and relaxed, they can also be quite curious, spontaneous. You could often find them suddenly wanted to eat something or suddenly wanting to go somewhere, you'll always feel surprised with them. You could have a Spouse that will be indeed quite curious about things, a desire for knowledge but more about discovery. Your Spouse can feel bored if they didn't discover something in a long time, so they kinda need to always find something new. They can really be random. But your Spouse can also be quite smart, they can also be philosophical, or like to question their current beliefs, they aren't scared to change their opinion and they are quite open minded. Your Spouse can also love to travel, perhaps you can travel with your them or they can travel for work. Your Spouse love to feel free and may also love to just sometimes be on their own. Your Spouse can also be either religious or spiritual, they can also love to talk to you about anything that interest them.

ʚɞ.ᐟ Funny thing but I have noticed that people with Sagittarius degrees over their Groom or Briede placement in their Hehe PC often marry a Spouse that come from a different place than them in the world, often a foreigner, or they themselves have been born or lived in another country than them.

-`♡´- Capricorn, 10°, 22° -`♡´-

This can often make your Spouse after marriage to be someone who will be a leader in your marriage. This can make your Spouse have a very strong and powerful energy in your dynamic, the one to even perhaps be a little cold or detached. They can seem harsh or just very task focused, but they care in their own way. They can be very serious about your commitment and loyal, but there can be time when you feel like your Spouse is too serious. It can sometimes gives off a Spouse that scare you a bit. Or others may think they are very cold. But you can also have Spouse who is just the one to take the lead at home and in your marriage. Spouse can also be the kind of work hard, be materialistic, care about the money in the couple, and they may want to own beautiful things with you. You can def rely on your Spouse with this placement.

-`♡´- Aquarius, 11°, 23° -`♡´-

Your Spouse after marriage could be quite unique, they could become more themselves after marriage, perhaps more embracing their differences and quirky side. This can be a Spouse that can become more spontaneous after marriage, you could also see being less scared to be seen and unique or "weird". Your Spouse could also embrace more about their human side, they could also be more extrovert, make more friends, meet more people after marriage. They could also use more social medias or some technologies, or be more into tech as well. They could have a desire to expand their knowledge, be more curious and they could so want to also embrace some dreams they never achieved before.

-`♡´- Pisces, 12°, 24° -`♡´-

Your Spouse after marriage could be very soft with you? This can be a very nice and kind person, they could also be more generous and self less after marriage. You could also have a Spouse that is very romantic in your marriage, always wanting to focus on you, spend time with you. After marriage, your Spouse could also become someone who is more private, they could see people less or talk less about their personal life. They could also become way more romantic than before, they could realize love is something deeper than they have known and felt before. Your Spouse could also become more spiritual or religious after marrying you. Perhaps you could also have a Spouse that can change their religion for you, or just also change their beliefs for you.

ʚɞ.ᐟ In Houses

-`♡´- In the 1H -`♡´-

Your Spouse after marriage can be someone who will perhaps have their appearance change. This can go in two different positions. First this can mean your Spouse will change their style or their physical appearance, but also exercise more, perhaps realize they want to be in a better shape, etc. Or this can lead to overindulgence. Your Spouse can also change a lot as a person after marriage. They could indeed take care of their appearance after marriage but they can also perhaps change in their way to behave.

-`♡´- In the 2H -`♡´-

Your Spouse after marriage can be someone who will be money driven, this can mean they will work hard for the money, or they will just want to save money. This can manifest in a good way, indeed as someone mindful of their money and perhaps also a Spouse who wants to take care of the money in the marriage. But also in a materialistic Spouse. Your Spouse indeed can be greedy, care too much of the material possessions you can have. Some people who had this placement had Spouse who cared a lot to what they possessed and how it looks to others. Their Spouses often wanted a beautiful house, beautiful care, expensive things, etc. Your Spouse can also be someone who can be used to money or just desire money. Your Spouse can also be someone who enjoys power and possessing, so they could be quite possessive over you, and jealousy could also occur sometimes.

-`♡´- In the 3H -`♡´-

Your Spouse after marriage can be someone who will be extroverted, or perhaps more extroverted. They can be someone who will love to chat with you daily, someone with whom you'll have great conversation, they could also have a desire to learn new things on a daily basis. Someone who can love to learn many languages as well. They can also be the kind of Spouse to be close to their relatives, or the kind to get along with the neighbors. They could be quite funny and smart, and witty as well. But this could also mean a Spouse that can remember things easily. So whenever you'll discuss with them, you'll feel like you are always learning something new.

-`♡´- In the 4H -`♡´-

Your Spouse after marriage can be someone who loves to stay at home, perhaps someone who loves to chill and just enjoy to be in a calm and quiet place to relax. This can be a Spouse also who can really have a strong desire for children, or having a family. The idea of a home to your Spouse is really important. They can be the type to really want you to live in a healthy and comfortable environment. This can mean your Spouse will care a lot about your House, and they could so pick it in a careful way, take care of it, etc. Your Spouse can also be someone who feels comfortable with you, they could see you as their home, someone they care a lot (obviously) but it can also just be someone who also makes you feel comfortable, someone loyal and calm.

-`♡´- In the 5H -`♡´-

Your Spouse after marriage can be someone quite dramatic lol. They can be very intense with how they express themselves sometimes, it can be funny as it can be annoying to be honest. But your Spouse can also be someone who is very funny, and fun, someone you'll feel like make things so entertaining and fun. Your Spouse can somehow become more popular after marriage, but also they can just become more friendly, charismatic. They will be very romantic as well, a true flirt, someone who wants to keep the seducing part still on, as they should. Your Spouse could also be someone who have a lot of hobbies and are very creative. Also, they can be someone who will really desire children after marriage, just a possibility though.

-`♡´- In the 6H -`♡´-

Your Spouse after marriage can be someone who will be very organized, someone who will perhaps also care a lot about your family routine. They can be someone who will want to make sure you don't have to plan anything or take care of anything, they will love to help you out, and so be the kind of Spouse to also take care of any duties in the house. Someone who can also want to watch out for your health, making sure you eat healthy, you drink enough water, that you exercise enough, they care about you and your wellness. In this case, this can mean this is a Spouse that could go through a healthy lifestyle journey after marriage, they could start exercising more, going through a diet or even they could care more about their health in general, so going to therapy can also be an option here.

-`♡´- In the 7H -`♡´-

Your Spouse after marriage will not stop the romance lol. You'll marry someone who will remember details of your meeting, you'll marry someone who will remember every dates of your romance, someone who will keep the seducing and flirting part, rizzing will be daily. You could also marry someone who is fair, your Spouse will be someone who will believe in justice. It seems like they can be someone calm, collected, but someone who so will always want to keep things fair in the marriage. They will often want romantic moments and dates with you, they refuse to have time and boring routine eat your marriage. You can count on them to keep the romance high. People who had this placement married a Spouse they loved their whole life.

-`♡´- In the 8H -`♡´-

Your Spouse after marriage can be someone very passionate and secretive. They could be more private after getting married about their personal life and not share much on what is going on behind close door. But they can consider you as someone who is part of their private world, so they can often feel like sharing things with you they have never shared with people before. Your spouse could be a very physical Spouse lol, you could have a lot of steamy times with them. This could also mean your Spouse could want to share a lot of things with you when it comes to what they possess. Otherwise, it can also tell us your Spouse could go through a strong rebirth when it comes to them, they could discover new things about themselves, care much about psychology and their mental health, etc.

-`♡´- In the 9H -`♡´-

Your Spouse after marriage can be someone who will perhaps travel a lot or travel more, but they can also be very into being more educated. They could desire to study more, or they can also go back to school. Though this placement can suggest a Spouse that is very smart, and witty. Your Spouse can be less stressed and be more spontaneous after marriage. They can be very close to your parents after marriage too. Your Spouse could either become spiritual or religious. Or develop their abilities in those. They could also desire to share their beliefs with you and so they could practice those on a daily basis.

-`♡´- In the 10H -`♡´-

Your Spouse after marriage can be someone who will be very work focused. Your Spouse can have a strong desire to bring money or have a better job. This can be someone who also have a strong desire to support their family, perhaps indeed it can be about money but sometimes also status. And sometimes it can just them wanting to care more about their career even after marriage because they are ambitious. This placement can also suggest for some that your Spouse has a leader position in the marriage, they aren't afraid to make decisions or take care of things. For some it can also mean after marriage, your Spouse can gain more in reputation. They can also have a great desire to protect you.

-`♡´- In the 11H -`♡´-

Your Spouse after marriage can be someone who will have a strong desire to build a strong connection with you. They can become more friendly and have more friends after marriage. But this is the Spouse you can be friend with as well. Your marriage isn't only love focused but it is also a real connection between two individuals who will love, support and care for each other truly. Your Spouse could want to spend a lot of time with you, considering you as their best friend. They can also be more curious after marriage and less scared to try new things. Your Spouse could also be the type to call and text you often. Your Spouse could also respect the freedom and space you need in the marriage.

-`♡´- In the 12H -`♡´-

Your Spouse after marriage could be someone that can either become highly spiritual or religious. They can perhaps turn more religious after marriage or either more spiritual. They can be someone who will have a stronger faith in their belief. They could also be a more private person after Marriage, perhaps letting less people know what is going on in their marriage. They can be very sweet, romantic, and self less, but it can also mean your Spouse can develop more hobbies on their own as well. Perhaps more creative hobbies. Your Spouse could travel too sometimes. Moreover, this placement can suggest a desire for your Spouse to go through therapy, and perhaps also desire to reflect on themselves, their past behaviors and to desire to know themselves better.

Thank you for Reading!

email adress: tarotjunoboda@gmail.com

Soft To You presentation and Q&A ᡣ𐭩 rules ᡣ𐭩 private readings reviews

astrology menu ᡣ𐭩 tarot menu ᡣ𐭩 special astrology & tarot readings

Tip Jar: paypal ⟡ buy me a coffee

©uyuforu All Rights Reserved; Do not copy work.

[yes-no-maybe-soo]

Was replaying the devastating masterpiece that is Beyond Cloudfall and this hit me like a freight train again

MC taught Sylus that a forehead kiss is a gesture of human love. He doesn't seem to grasp the meaning of it, which MC notes — "He doesn't understand it. He will never understand it".

But then, in his last moments, as he lays dying, this is Sylus' final act...

He does understand. And he is declaring his love for her in the most meaningful and powerful way he can think of.

He went from being pretty condescending about human love

to embracing it... fuck. It's so beautiful and so painful and aaaaaahh 💔

I am not quite done just yet... because there is another layer and meaning to the forehead kiss...

This exchange happens if you pick the "I want your soul" option rather than the"I want your love" one and it's just as poignant.

Not only is Sylus conveying his love for her when he kisses MC's forehead in the datura field, but with this gesture he is also entrusting his very soul to her. That is his final act before the light dims in his ruby like eyes, and his body turns to dust, leaving only half his soul and his unspoken confession of love behind.

I am never recovering from this.

I am sending Paperfold my therapy bills.

They can't keep getting away with breaking my heart like this!!! (actually yes they can and I encourage them to keep it up. Never have I seen a couple as heartbreakingly, compellingly, beautifully written as SylusMC)

To end on an uplifting note, Sylus carries what MC taught him about love into his next life... although he has yet to drop the L bomb with words he has already professed the sentiment to her right here (unbeknownst to her ofc and to us, at the time)

I love SylusMC to death, man... The more you dig into their story, the more rewarding and gut wrenching it gets. Can't wait for further revalations and critical damage to my feelings down the line 🥲👍🏻❤️

[eddiesvixen]

Happy Birthday

𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘌𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢 𝘧𝘶𝘯 𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢 𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘢𝘭 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘪𝘵𝘺.

𝘊𝘶𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳: 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘣𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘦𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦, 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧, 𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘵 𝘮𝘥𝘯𝘪 18+, 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘷 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘰𝘰𝘣𝘴, 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘰𝘳𝘢𝘭, 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘩 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵��𝘰𝘭, 𝘶𝘯𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘱 𝘪𝘯 𝘷 (𝘱𝘭𝘴 𝘸𝘳𝘢𝘱 𝘪𝘵 𝘶𝘱), 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘪𝘱𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘴, 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘪, 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨.

𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘯𝘵: 3.8𝘬

𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

“How much for that one?” Eddie nods at the tee hanging at the merchandise stand.

The worker looks at the tag. “Forty bucks.”

Shit. Forty bucks for a Slayer tee? To be fair, the concert was fucking amazing. And Eddie couldn’t get enough of the way you were just out there dancing. He wanted to surprise you. After all, your birthday falls just six days away, and he knows how much you waited for this show. So he hands the guy two twenty dollar bills.

“What size?”

Eddie points. “Extra large, she likes to wear them to sleep.”

The guy hands Eddie the shirt in which he quickly holds it behind his back because there’s you were, emerging from the restrooms. He could never get tired of seeing your beautiful face.

“Do not go in those restrooms.” You warn him with a small smile.

“Let me guess, some randoms hooking up?”

“Worse. Smells like the Hawkins High locker rooms.”

He cringes and dramatically gags. “Damn, and you pissed in there?”

You shove him playfully. “Shut up.”

You smile when you see something folded up in his hands. “What’s that?”

He shrugs and pulls you to walk with him back to the van. “Just something small.”

“How small?” You try to grab it but he pulled it out of reach.

“What ever happened to the element of surprise?” He shakes his head, wild curls following with the movement.

You roll your eyes. “Aren’t you the same guy who opened his christmas gifts two days early last year?”

He smiles. “It was a big box! I knew it had to be something ridiculous.”

“And is this something ridiculous?” You raise a brow as he opens the passenger side door for you.

“It’s something you’ll love.” He nods, clutching his heart with a smile so sweet you can’t be angry. “Now will you get in the van? I’m hungry.”

“You’re always hungry.” You smile and tease as you get in the van.

“Oh you aren’t?” He smirks.

“Just drive nerd.”

He obeyed, getting into his van and when you look away to put your seatbelt on, he tosses the shirt into the back of the van. He drove you to a restaurant in the city. It’s fun. You can enjoy the scent of the greasy burgers and luckily it’s too late for Eddie to embarrass you by asking the waitresses to sing happy birthday.

When you sip your drink he takes chance to talk to you. “So.”

You grin. “So?”

He bites his burger so his words come out muffled and you snort. “English, Eddie.”

He chuckles and his cheeks tinge pink when you dab away the grease dripping down his chin.

“I um. I said are you excited? For your birthday.”

“I guess so?” You shrug. “Just feels like the older I get I don’t know what to do for them anymore.”

There’s a small pause before you say. “But tonight was the best.”

He smiles. “Yeah it was. You really can dance, sweetheart.”

“I can’t believe we saw Slayer though. I mean, that was fucking amazing.”

Your smile warms his heart. “Bet you’re glad I brought this then. Got some of it recorded so we can look back one day.”

He pulls the digital camera from his jeans pocket and you smile. “Almost forgot we recorded. My footage is probably shaky. Couldn’t stop laughing when you started shaking your ass to Postmortem.”

He throws his head back and laughs, you try not to stare at the porcelain skin, his adam’s apple bobbing. “Oh! So you weren’t shaking yours too?”

You smile and flip him off. “I’m entitled to.” Then you fold your arms. “And you looking at my ass, Munson?”

Shit. Way to give yourself away Eddie.

He smirks. “Kinda hard not to when that girl touched it earlier.”

It’s kinda hard to forget. The way you danced, your hips swaying and head banging. And when this other girl saw you, she started dancing with you. You were so caught up, it almost missed you when she grinded back on you. And you were having so much fun, the drink you did have encouraging you to have fun. You danced on her and with permission, she put her hands on your ass as you shook it on her.

You shrug and smile. “She liked what she saw.”

“Didn’t know you liked girls.” He sips his soda.

“Who do you think gave Robin her first kiss?”

He could’ve spit out his drink. Buckley got to kiss you before he did?!

“Shut up.” His eyes widen.

You laugh. “Shh. Don’t tell anyone.”

He shakes his head. “So you’re bisexual?”

“I don’t wanna label myself. But, I guess so?”

He nods.

“What?” You raise a brow.

“Nothing.” He says simply, then a smirk forms across his face. “Just can’t believe you practically twerked on a girl at a Slayer concert.”

You smile and laugh, gently kicking his boot with your own under the table. “Upset she twerked on me and not you?”

He shrugs. “Nah. It was worth the watch.”

“Perv.” You roll your eyes and smile.

The waitress brings the bill. “Will that be all?”

You both shake your heads and before you can pull your cash from your purse he gives her the cash and tip. You raise a brow.

“Thanks.” He grins as she takes the money and walks away. You usually pay the tip when you both go out.

“Really?”

He grins. “Not letting you spend a penny on your birthday.”

You smile. “Sap.”

He smirks. “You like it.”

You do. It’s one of your favorite things about Eddie. The way he can be upset about something but when he gets around you he becomes so sweet. Like at the show when the mosh got loaded, he knows you like to dance there. But when some guys got too aggressive, he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you back for a drink. He always looks out for you, just like you look out for him.

“Come on. I got something to help you calm down for the night.” He slides out of the booth, holding out his hand to you.

You grin and place your hand in his as you stand. “Rick give you another good stash?”

He smirks. “Something called purple palm tree delight?”

“Sounds intriguing.” You smile, wrapping your arm around him, fingers in the loop of his jeans. “Lead the way.”

“Holy shit.” You grin and take another hit of the purple palm tree delight.

“Yeah, this is definitely a keeper.” He smiles, looking at you. The way your lips look around the joint, the way they form an O shape when blowing out smoke.

You grin. “You’re staring. What’s on your mind?”

He looks over your face. Examing your features. Your nose, your lips, so plush and soft. Your eyes search his face for any emotion.

“I got you a present. Well.. another. The first one is at the trailer. You’ll have to wait to see it next week.”

You smile. “The first one? How many did you get me?” You sit the joint in the ashtray, and the ashtray into the front seats.

He grabs the shirt from where he tucked it under the seat and he hands it to you. “Happy birthday, sweetheart.”

You smile and take the folded up item, unraveling it to see the slayer logo on it. It’s black and it’s so soft, begging you to wear it.

“Eddie, you didn’t have to.” You look at him with a grateful and appreciative gaze.

“I did. It’s worth it.” His eyes search your face, almost a mimic to how you searched his seconds ago. “Do you like it?”

You clutch the tee to your chest and smile. “I love it, Eddie.” You hug him and press your nose to his shoulder, he wraps his arms around you tightly.

“Anything for you.” He rubs your back.

And you know he’s being truthful. Like when he took you to the homecoming dance in freshman year because your douche of a boyfriend dumped you days before it. And when he snuck into your room with medicine and snacks after a late shift at the hideout because you were sick. Eddie always swore to do anything for you. Or when he helped you move into your apartment and you freaked out about being an adult. You didn’t want to be on your own, so Eddie always makes sure you aren’t.

You kiss his shoulder, lips meeting the soft fuzz of his worn band tee. His eyes widen and his hand freezes on your back.

He speaks softly. “Did you just kiss me?”

You pull back. Did you overstep? You only intended to share a sweet moment with him, he knows it’s rare at times. You shrug. “Yeah.”

He looks over your face for a moment. His gaze flickers down to your lips and back up to your eyes.

“Do it again.” He murmured it so lowly you almost missed it.

You couldn’t believe he was asking you and yet you couldn’t find it in yourself to ever tell Eddie no. You cup his face, feeling the slightest peach fuzz under your palms as your thumb strokes his cheek gently. Your noses brush almost as gently as your lips do, and you press yours to his.

You kiss him like he’s the only guy in the world, and he kisses you like he needs you to breath. His lips are warm and plus like soft pillows. You grip his shoulder and with your free hand you cup the back of his neck. He moves a tentative hand to your hip and the other rests on your jaw, his calloused thumb stroking the material of your shorts.

When you tug his hair he gasps at the action and you take it as your opportunity to slip your tongue into his mouth. He’s shocked at first, his best friend just slipped her tongue into his mouth. But from the taste of your lip gloss and the scent of your perfume filling his nose he couldn’t stop you. He didn’t want to stop you.

He laps his tongue at yours and you taste the weed and something that’s simply Eddie. You think you could survive off of this taste if anything else. His hands hold your hips as he lowers you slowly until you’re laid flat against the floor of his van.

He finally breaks the kiss for air. You’re both smiling, lips slightly bruised from how passionately you kissed.

“You’re so beautiful.” He grins.

“You’re one to talk.” You cup his face away from his messy curls as they drape over you.

“Just so we’re clear, that wasn’t just a ‘thanks for the gift’ kiss was it?”

You smile and pull him down to kiss him again. “No silly. That was a take off your shirt before I grow impatient kiss.”

He smirks and teases you. “Mm, looks like you’re already there, princess.”

You smirk and start to undo your top. “I wont ask again.”

He smirks. “Well shit.”

He undoes his belt and you both remove your clothes, desperate to have a taste of each other. Shirts, jeans, shorts, socks. All littered to the corner of the van and Eddie’s in awe as he looks over your body. Soft skin and the curves of your full breasts as they sit bare. Your ass and thighs are begging for attention from black panties that confine them.

But you’re in awe too. Those black briefs he has on don’t hide much either. And the damp patch on them tells you that he yearns for your body as much as you yearn for him.

You grin. “You wear briefs now?”

He chuckles and his cheeks tinge pink. “Harrington told me they’re more comfortable. So I figured I give them a try.”

You smile. “And are they?”

He smirks and looks down, he’s begging to be freed from their hold. “Not at the moment.”

You press your toes to his chest and he smiles, his hand wrapping around your ankle as he kisses it. He kisses up higher and higher, past your calf and up your thigh.

“You have no idea how badly I’ve waited for this, for you.” He looks into your eyes when he bends lower and kisses your mound through the material of your panties.

You bite your lip. “Eddie.”

“Yeah?” He tilts his head to see your face fully.

“As much as I’ve dreamed about you going down on me, I need you to fuck me or i’m gonna lose my mind.”

He laughs and sits up, cupping his bulge through his briefs. “Shit. You can’t just say things like that. Almost blew my load.”

You laugh and sit up, gently tucking your fingers into his waistband. When you look up at him for permission he nods rapidly, dark curls bouncing around. You pulled his briefs down to his knees and his cock hits his tummy.

You laugh and he huffs, wrapping a fist around his base.

“You know, no guy wants to hear his girl laugh when he pulls his dick out.”

Your eyes widen and you shake your head. “What? No. I’m just.. surprised. I turn you on this much from just kissing?”

He grins. “If you knew how turned on you got me all the time, you’d probably be grossed out. I mean-“

Eddie was gonna confess about how many times he’s hidden his hard on’s from you when you’d hang out in his trailer in his tees or at the lake in that skimpy garment you call a bikini but he grits his teeth at the feeling of your fingers wrapping around his cock.

“Kinda heavy.” You grin and gently brush your thumb against the vein on the underside of his cock.

“Oh fuck.. sweetheart.”

“Im glad you’re turned on.” If you keep talking like that, you just might kill him. “Because I am too.”

You grab his hand and place it between your thighs, his palm pressed your clothed core. He looks at you as you lean your head back, he kisses your neck and you can’t hold back the moan that slips out.

He moans when he feels your grip become more firm around him, gently stroking his cock. What he lacks in girth he makes up for in length. You gasp as you feel his fingers dip into your panties, teasing your folds with your slick before slowly plunging his finger into your tight folds.

“Fuck, so good Eddie.”

He loves how his name sounds falling from your lips and he loves how wet you are for him. What he loves even more is how you’re stroking him. Keeping the same pace he has on you as he adds another finger, his thumb expertly finding your clit.

With your moans and your soft hands jerking him off, he knows he wont last long. He gasps and moans, hips stuttering to meet your strokes and his stomach tenses up. He uses his free hand to stop you and your eyes shoot open.

“Sorry. I just need to be inside you baby.”

You nod and bite your lip to muster the desperate moan he could’ve pulled from you when he took his hand from your panties. He pulls his briefs off fully so you do the same with your panties, lying down rested back on your elbows. He reached into the front glove compartment and when he sits back up in front of you you’re greeted with the blue squared package in his hand.

“Better safe than sorry.” He shrugs, ripping it open with his teeth.

Before he can slide it on you grab his wrist and he raises his brows.

“I’m on the pill.”

His eyes widen. “All this time?”

“Yeah. Well actually it’s not a pill, it’s a shot. Still, contraceptive so we’re safe.”

He feels a new wave of pleasure wave over him. He’s never gone raw. He looks over your body then your face. “Are you sure?”

“Only if you’re comfortable.” You rub his hip. “I want us to both enjoy this.”

He smiles and tosses the condom to fling wherever in the van. “Are you kidding me? Fuck trojan.”

You laugh and he joins in soon enough. He kisses you. When the laughter dies down he speaks softly. “Ever gone raw with… anyone else?” He hated how much that question made him feel like a loser but when you shake your head he smiles.

“I haven’t trusted anyone enough to.” You look over his face. “It’s special.”

He grins. “You’re special.”

You tease him yet again. “Sap.”

“Yeah and if you tell anyone i’ll tell them exactly what you just said.” He quips back.

You roll your eyes. “Kiss me before I change-“

He wouldn’t dare let you finish that sentence. He kisses you passionately, both hands cupping your face. You sigh into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as his curls tickle your neck and chest.

It’s intimate and steamy and so good. The way his hand drifted down your body and he took a break to kiss your chest, gently licking then sucking then kissing each nipple in that order.

He positions himself and you reach down to help him. You both moan in tandem as he slides into your wet heat. There’s a sting at the stretch but you’re so wet and so turned on that it doesn’t hurt much, in fact it adds to your pleasure and his. The way you’re gripping him like a vice.

“Shit, sweetheart. You’re so tight.” His eyes are shut, trying not to blow his load like he did his first time in sophomore year.

“So big Eddie.” You feel pathetic. That’s about all the words you can get out before he slowly rolls his hips, moans falling from both of your lips and you lace your fingers in his hair as he buries his head in your neck, leaving kisses there.

The moans and pretty whimpers that fall from his lips make you clench around him. You’d be embarrassed about the squelch that comes from between your legs if he didn’t seem to be in love with it.

“Eddie.” You moan and he’s quick to respond.

Through gritted teeth he pants. “Yeah baby?”

“Faster.”

When he hears your tone he can’t think anymore. He’s not sure if he’s been thinking at all. Not since you removed your shirt. He kisses your neck one more time before he sits up and grips your hips.

“If it’s too much stop me. Don’t wanna be too rough.”

You grin. “I like rough.”

He smirks. “Why am I not surprised?”

You’d talk back at him but he’s got your hips gripped tightly as he lifts them, your ass rests on his thighs as he fucks into you. The angle allows him to hit spots you didn’t know someone could hit. Realization only hits you now that no one’s ever fucked you the way you deserved.

Behind moans and bables of pleasure, you can feel his hands exploring your body. You roll your hips with his and he tosses his head back.

“Fuck, baby. You’re gonna make me come too quick.”

You pull him down and speak softly into his ear. “Let me ride you.”

He feels like whatever he did in his past life must’ve been heroic as fuck, because you’re making him harder with every passing second.

He hugs you and helps roll you both over, making sure his cock stays nestled where it belongs. You grip his shoulders and he grips your hips so tightly you know they’re gonna have dents from his rings but you don’t care.

You share a passionate kiss, tongues dancing together in a dance of pleasure. Moaning into each other’s mouths as you roll your hips over his lap. He’s helps you move, hands gripping your hips even tighter as he fucks up into you.

You moan and kiss his neck, your tits moving against his chest and he thinks this view is actually better than whatever footage he got on that camera earlier. His girl, in his van, moaning his name.

“Fuck. Eddie, i’m so close.” You cup the back of his neck.

He knows. He’s known for the past minute. The way your pussy grips around him. claiming him all for herself. He nods and keeps his pace. Grunts and moans growing more desperate.

“Fucking milking me, sweetheart.” He gasps as he feels that familiar twitch.

A symphony of moans and whimpers fill the van as he empties himself inside you, helping you ride him as your body jerks and he feels the warmth of your release wash over his cock, dripping beneath your bodies.

You pant and lay your head onto his shoulder. He sees your body’s a bit tired and to that much he can agree. So he lays you both down, another moan coming from you both as he pulls out.

You both lie there, the smallest breeze of wind coming through the slightly cracked window. He looks over at you and smiles as he sees you pulling on the Slayer shirt.

“Told the guy you liked them bigger.”

You smirk. “My guys or my shirts?”

He laughs and sits up on his elbow as you lay back down next to him. “How’s that for a birthday present?”

You smile. “Good dinner, good show and a good orgasm? You really know how to treat a woman.”

He leans in, hand resting on your hip under the shirt. “There’s more where that came from.”

You smile and kiss him, fingers lingering on his hip as well but you feel that twitch again. You snort as you look down then back up at his face.

“You’re such a horndog.”

“Like you don’t want another taste.” He reaches down and grips himself.

“Actually I do.” You teasingly lick your lips and he swears you’re trying to kill him.

He shakes his head. “Don’t think so.”

“What?” You squint at him.

He pulls his briefs back on to simmer the strain of his cock when he lays between your legs. “You’ll get a taste of me. But you stopped me already from tasting you, and with this shirt on? Baby, i’m starving for it.”

He parts your legs and kisses up your thighs. You smile and grab his jeans from the corner above your head. You grab his little cam recorder and he smirks. “Really?”

You mimic his words from the diner. “So we can look back one day.”

He smiles. “I fucking love you.”

And those are the last words spoken for a while.

𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦: thank you for 200 followers 🩶

𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘣𝘺 @strangergraphics

𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵: @pupwrites @sheneedsrocknroll92 @koshkahhh @kthomps914 @definitionwanderlust @veravee-blog @losingmygrasponreality @ironmusictrash @littlemissholy @bastardstevie

[hrrtshape]

what happens to your cr self when you shift ?? and not like in the sense of existing, because i know i will forever exist here, but like is this version of my aware that i have shifted ?? or not ?? and even if so, am i still aware it exists, and is that version of me still shifting to another version of my dr ?? i’m not even sure if that makes sense ..

anyways i love your account !! sorry if i’m a bother and you’ve already spoken about this !!

the severance theory: what happens to your cr self?

before we begin....this is my opinion. mine. sole proprietorship. if you don’t like it, there’s the door. i am merely trying to make sense of something inherently, spectacularly, almost comically nonsensical.

recap for the uninitiated: "severance" (2022, apple tv+, a show nobody but me and three other freaks watched) is a psychological sci-fi corporate dramedy where workers at lumen industries voluntarily undergo a procedure that bifurcates their consciousness. on the severed floor, their "innie" only exists within work hours, trapped in a loop of pressing buttons and unhinged corporate cultism. their "outie," the version of them that exists in the world, remembers nothing of this. two people. same body. separate lives. neither self fully aware of the other beyond the vague, gnawing sense that something is missing. you see where i’m going with this?

so, the question at hand: when you shift, does your cr self know? and if not, what does that mean for the structural integrity of selfhood?

this is where we invoke what i am now calling severance theory. your cr self is the innie, the poor sod trapped in the fluorescent hellscape of baseline reality, totally unaware that just beyond the horizon, another version of them is thriving, utterly unencumbered. meanwhile, your dr self is the outie, the one who gets to make all the interesting choices, fully conscious of the shift, but completely oblivious to what’s happening back in cr.

but. unlike severance, shifting is a closed loop. the amnesia isn’t true amnesia. it’s temporary, elastic, self-healing. it’s not a locked door; it’s a revolving one.

꒰  the process goes something like this. . .

innie mode :  when you shift, your cr self keeps on keeping on, utterly unaware. there is no pause. no frozen simulation. no eerie existential vacancy. they are still out there, paying bills or studying, scrolling tiktok, making bad decisions. but they are unaware that another iteration of themselves is in another reality, absolutely ransacking the timeline.

outie mode :  your dr self, however, is in the know. you know you’ve shifted. you’re there, in it, full presence. but, and here’s the catch, you don’t know what your cr self is doing in the meantime. the door only swings one way.

reintegration :  when you shift back, there is no oh, right, i was a guy in a tie the whole time? moment of disorientation. no fumbling around for context. your awareness simply knits itself back together. suddenly, you have both sets of memories, not layered on top of each other, but seamlessly interwoven. like you were never divided at all.

so what does this mean? i don't know. it means shifting is not a true severance, but a temporary schism with a built-in repair function. a fault line that immediately seals the moment you return. the memory syncs, the thread pulls taut, and you are simply whole again, with no jagged edges, no lingering gaps, no awkwardly misplaced time.

what should be impossible isn’t. you should not be able to be two people in two places at once, to hold two distinct timelines without one dissolving under the weight of the other. and yet. and yet.

severance, but make it reversible. shifting, but make it quantum entanglement. you, but in two places at once, until you are not. until you are only ever where you are. until you are everything you have ever been, folded neatly into a single breath.

questions that you might have. . . now answered!!!

꒰  if shifting is like severance, then why do i remember my dr after shifting back? wouldn’t my ‘innie’ forget everything?

because severance (in its original form) is a corporate lobotomy. shifting is more like a temporary partition that gets fully and perfectly reintegrated the moment you shift back. your dr self doesn’t have access to your cr self in real time, and vice versa, but the moment you return, the wall collapses. the data was never deleted, just… in a restricted folder.

꒰  does my cr self experience time differently while i’m in my dr?

depends on what you're scripting // initiating. your cr self is living its best (or worst) life completely unaware that another part of you is off being a regency-era freak or whatever. time runs parallel. your cr self is on autoplay, not pause.

꒰  is my cr self technically a different person when i’m in my dr?

no, because when you return, you don’t feel like you’re integrating with a stranger. your consciousness just knows what both versions of you did. think of it like opening a tab you forgot was running in the background. it never stopped, you just weren’t looking at it.

꒰  does this mean my cr self can shift to other drs while i’m in my dr??

stop confusing me!!!!!!!!! ok. see. this is where we start getting into the existential quagmire. theoretically....... yes. your cr self isn’t paused. if shifting is possible in your reality, why wouldn’t they be capable of it? but you wouldn’t be aware of it in the moment, just like you aren’t aware of your dr while living in your cr. it would only surface when you reintegrate. horrifying. fascinating. moving on.

꒰  but what if my cr self is aware of my shifting?

i have zero idea how that would happen because i myself do not yet understand if our cr selves can know that. but.....congratulations. redpilled guy.

꒰  if my dr self is the ‘outie,’ shouldn’t they have more control over my cr self?

wrong question. your dr self is the outie only while you’re in the dr (unless you're one of those people with a lifa app). the second you shift back, the roles collapse. you're just you again.

꒰  why does reintegration happen instantly? why don’t i have to ‘process’ both sets of memories?

because your consciousness was never actually split. it was just partitioned. the second the barrier lifts, everything slides back into place. no buffering, no awkward ‘let me think about this’ moment. you just know. it’s as natural as breathing.

꒰  what happens if i shift permanently? is my cr self just… abandoned?

this is where things can get slightly intimidating. theoretically, your cr self would keep going, but you’d never reintegrate (unless you decide to shift back). i think you'd still remember your dr. unless, once again, you choose to script that out.

꒰  does this theory mean that my cr self has their own personality, separate from my dr self?

no, because you’re still the same person. the difference between cr-you and dr-you is just context. you in a victorian gothic novel isn’t going to be the same as you in a cyberpunk dystopia, but at the core, they are still you.

[thursdaysgrrl]

i bet on losing dogs \ vi x reader

pairing: vi x fem!reader

word count: 4k

summary: you bet on a losing dog and subsequently fall in love

warning: strangers to lovers arc, no actual nsfw but reader has a thing for boobs (girl same) and nm else. very fluffy and angsty tbh! + happy ending

a/n: just want to note that reader has a semi-established backstory. shouldn't affect reading experience <3

♬⋆.˚ "i bet on losing dogs" by mitski

vi had been a fighter for as long as she could remember. but when caitlyn left, she didn’t have any of that fire left. every night, she’d get into fights. the sound of spectators chanting was intoxicating. the taste of blood in her mouth almost as addicting as the shimmer she’d replaced cait with. but every night, she would be knocked down, walking down the damp streets of the undercity searching for an alley to call home. you were curious.

you always placed your bets on the same person. vi’d begun to be known as the “dog of the ring”, always kicked but forever returning. and you bet on her every single time. yet she never noticed; she’d fight, she’d come out bloody and bruised, she’d find some comfort in the bar’s never-ending supply of alcohol and it’s customer’s endless supply of shimmer, and then she’d disappear. you’d made it a point of yours to go to the same bar, to dance when your favorite songs came on. one time you anonymously paid for her tab. but never, not once, did vi look at you. she was too lost in her own world. you’d heard the rumors, of course. the undercity’s finest brought to her knees by piltover’s most praised enforcer. and then left by her. part of you wanted vi because of that; she really was a losing dog. you had a soft spot for strays.

you’d stumbled into the bar’s grimy bathroom, slightly dizzy from drinking… something. you weren’t actually sure what. you made a mental note to be more careful next time. annoyed and ready to throw up, you banged on the bathroom door. you were about ready to kick it down when you saw who walked out. vi. you were ready to say something, before your stomach decided to take the lead and… oops.

“dude, the fuck?” vi grimaced, trying to wipe your vomit off of the front of her shirt. “oh my god, i’m—i’m so sorry!” you try to wipe the chunky substance from vi’s chest, concerned, before blushing and moving your hand away. vi smirks. “hey, i know you. you come here all the time, don’t you?” wait, vi noticed? “i… yeah, i do. you’re, i mean, you’re vi, right?” real smooth. vi smiled at you more sincerely this time. “ah, so we are aquainted. and you are… ?” you introduce yourself, offering your hand to shake. she takes it. her hands are calloused and rough and disarmingly warm. the tingles in your fingers linger even after you pull away. “how about i make it up to you? drinks on me?” vi considers you for a moment. then agrees. the two of you walk back into the bar, vi zipping up her leather jacket to avoid getting stared at. after ordering your respective drinks, you each take a seat at the bar, knees touching slightly.

“you don’t fight, do you?” vi asks, taking in your appearance. you don’t, admittedly, look like a fighter. “n-no. just appreciate the sport, is all,” you stammer. a more accurate response would be just appreciate watching you play the sport. vi chuckles, seemingly considering the accuracy of your words. “i admit that i’ve seen it as more of a money maker these days.” “oh yeah?” “especially given the fact fight rings are getting more and more tight… they don’t let just anyone compete. i got my ass kicked earlier but a goddamn professional.” you notice the cut under her eye, a bruise blooming on her cheek. you resist the urge to reach out and touch it. “are you not a professional?” vi chuckles bitterly, but not unkindly. takes a swig of her drink. “no way. i’m here to get the bills paid.” “what are you, then?” your question is abstract and catches vi off guard. mostly because she’d been asking herself the same thing for months. “well. people ‘round her call me the ‘dog of the ring’.” “and you agree?” you tilt your head, leaning your elbow on the table. “i’m whatever gets the most people to bet on me.” you hold up your ticket with vi’s name on it. you bet on her. you always did. vi’s lips part slightly in surprise. “well. i’m sorry you lost your money tonight.” your response slips out before you can help yourself. “oh, i didn’t bet on you because i wanted to win.”

and that’s how you got here, sitting in your apartment, you tending to the scrape on her eyebrow with a warm towel. it’d turned out that you two had more in common than you’d previously thought. vi was tough, but there was also something so intimately human about her. you liked it.

vi winced as you pressed the cloth soaked in disinfectant into her wound, and you murmur an apology. “you don’t have to do this, y’know,” vi says through gritted teeth. your voice is calmer, soft in comparison to hers. “i know. i want to.” your pet dog—another stray—lazily nipped at vi’s ankles, curious about a new visitor. “that’s dog” you explain. this makes vi crack a smile. “wow. very creative name.” “i know,” you grin, feigning pride. vi can’t help but think that you have the best smile she’s ever seen. it’s softer than cait’s ever was. “in my defense, i didn’t want to give him something else in case his owners came looking for him.” you add, more quietly: “i don’t think he has anyone else, though.” vi privately thinks, just like me.

you place a bandaid over vi’s brow, rubbing ointment on her cut before looking down at the blood-soaked wraps on her hands. “want me to give you clean ones?” “you’re quite prepared, nurse lady,” vi muses affectionately. that makes you smile, too. “you never know when the dog of the ring is gonna crash your place.” you get up from your bed to get the necessary materials to re-wrap vi’s bandages, before sitting back down across from her. you carefully unwrap the bloodied bandages, lips tightning at vi’s bloody and bruised knuckles before you begin wrapping them up in clean gauze. vi’s taken aback by how tender your touch is; she hasn’t been cared for like this in… god knows how long.

once you finish, you stand back up, putting away everything you used to clean her up. vi watches you, wordlessly taking in your apartment. it’s small, one room with an open layout of a mattress, couch and countertop with kitchen island. but it’s cozy, and much better than the alleys she’s been staying in. your voice breaks the silence. “where do you stay?” vi pauses, before deciding to be truthful. “everywhere. sometimes nowhere, depending where'll take me in.” “this could be your where, if you want.” even your words catch you by surprise. “wait, really?” vi gauges your response, suspecting a cruel joke, but she finds none. only sincerity. “sure. you can take my bed. and before you argue, you’re the one who’s recovering. i have a couch for a reason.” vi stands up, walking towards you. “thank you. that’s really nice of you.” you turn around, leaning against the kitchen island. “yeah, sure. in case you didn’t notice, i have a thing for strays.” you motion to dog. vi chuckles, stopping in front of you “heh, yeah, i got that.” you pause for a moment, enjoying the proximity before pushing off the counter and going into your closet to grab some blankets and pillows. you assemble them on your couch where you’ll be sleeping.

“do you need clothes?” vi looks down at her dirt-stained clothes. and dirt-stained skin and… come to think of it, what’s the last time she washed her hair? “could i use your shower, actually?” she asks. “sure thing.” you lead her over to your bathroom, teaching her how to turn on the shower and regulate temperature. she nods gratefully, thanking you for the set of pajamas you laid out for her. you leave her to sort herself out, humming in the kitchen as you make a midnight snack for the two of you. reveling in how well the evening has turned out.

vi comes out looking like a completely different person. with the black paint gone from her face and black hair dye gone—you realise, laughing inside, that she must have used some really shitty dye, and make a mental note to pick up a better one for her—she looks softer. her natural hair is pink, and you realize just how captivating her eyes are. a steel blue that you know you’ll be seeing in your dreams from now on. but it’s how she looks in your clothing that really takes your breath away—oversized band t-shirt and boxers. apparently she ran hot and didn’t care for the flannel pajama pants you’d so conveniently set out. you observe through her shirt that she must have nipple piercings from the way they poke through. seems fitting for her whole image, ear and lip piercings only adding to her look. “hey,” you smile.

a few minutes later, you’re eating toast at the table, laughing about something or other. it’s strange how easy it is to talk to her, and vi feels the same way. she’s not used to people extending such kindness towards her, especially not pretty girls like you. she inwardly revels in how she smells like your body wash—cinnamon and vanilla. how comforting to live like you. dog whines at your feet, begging for some toast, which you scold vi for providing. there’s no bite in your words, though. you just like having someone to find annoying.

your house has been empty since your ex-girlfriend left. you didn’t think you would survive her absence; there were times it felt like the quiet of your apartment was more suffocating than your arguments ever were. maybe that’s why you took such a focus on vi: you needed somewhere to begin, something to care about. someone.

after changing into your own pajamas and giving vi a toothbrush (you especially enjoy your toothpaste that night, knowing it’s what she’ll taste like until the morning), you snuggle into your blanket pile on your couch, vi doing the same in your bed. despite her protests, you’d insisted she take it—at least until she recovered. or, you inwardly muse, you began sharing it.

───────────────୨ৎ───────────────

you wake up to the sound of dog scratching at the door. he wants to go for a walk, you realize, feeling guilty. you stretch, gently sliding out of bed as you pad across the wooden floors. you look at vi for an instant, and she’s—oh.

apparently vi had gotten even hotter in the night and decided to just… casually take her shirt off. yeah, that’s fine. you’re not at all turned on by the fact she’s sleeping on her stomach right now, breasts perked up. or the fact she does, in fact, have nipple piercings. look away! you force yourself to avert your gaze, certain she’ll wake up any moment and catch you staring. why’d i let her crash, again?

you quickly change into a sleeveless and cropped black compression tank-top, black cargo pants and combat boots. you know that you look hot in that top, but try to lie to yourself and pretend you just felt like wearing it for… no reason. you quietly open the door after putting dog on his leash, silently communicating to vi that you’ll be back soon. and praying she’ll be there when you return.

to your relief, vi is. you’d put her clothes in the wash last night, and she’s since changed back into them. ah, oh well. you smile at her; she’s standing in your kitchen making eggs. who knew vi could cook? “hey, where were you?” vi asks, flipping an omelette. you hold up the leash. “taking dog for a walk.” vi nods in understanding, grabbing a plate. “so… you found your way around here pretty quickly,” you observe, motioning to how comfortable she already seems to be in your kitchen. vi cracks an egg in the pan. and cracks a smile. “yeah, i, uh… wanted to be useful.” “well, that’s nice of you.” part of you wants to come up behind her and wrap your arms around her waist, but you repress the urge as she sets your omelette, topped with melted cheese and tomatoes, on the kitchen counter. “dude, this looks great!” and you’re right. if you could cook like this, you’d definitely be about 10 pounds fatter. vi beams at your praise: “why thank you. i’m glad you like it.”

vi watches you eat with a strange satisfaction. you’re smiling because of her. licking your lips because of her. your outfit doesn’t go unnoticed, either—she appreciates how your shirt hugs your body. which may be what gives her the confidence to say, “i hope you didn’t mind me sleeping shirtless, by the way.” you turn red. you hadn’t expected either of you to bring it up. “oh, uh, no problem!” your voice comes out much too squeaky for your own liking. “because, y’know, if it makes you uncomfortable, i could always put one on… “ “no!” you interject. “i mean—no, that’s fine. i don’t mind.” vi grins. “okay, princess.”

vi’s words echo through your head all day. she’d headed off to the ring hours ago, but you were still in your apartment, lost in thought. princess. her fucking grin. it’s these thoughts that fuel a painting—you swear you don’t get up for hours on end—of vi laying in bed, asleep and shirtless, light streaming through from somewhere off the canvas. you’d painted her a bit like an angel, hair hitting the pillow like a halo framing her head. you blush at your work, but are also satisfied. from just memory, it’s pretty impressive. you’ve been painting for as long as you can remember. your mother was an artist. your father was MIA for most of your childhood. but drawing was always your safe space. and, you realize, through the painting, you’d let vi into it.

───────────────୨ৎ───────────────

vi returns late at night. you’d made dinner that had long grown cold. “hey, princess, sorry, matches took longer than expected… “ she takes you in, sitting at the table in the dark, apron over a little dress. she walks over, kneeling in front of you and taking your hands in hers. “i’m really sorry.” “ts’fine,” you murmur, meeting her gaze, your eyes soft. “was just worried about you.” vi thinks for a moment, before standing up. “we can heat this up, right?” she asks, motioning to the food you’d so caringly set out. she takes turns putting each item in the microwave, you watching her silently until she sits across from you at the table, food now warm. “this looks great.” that makes you crack a smile, and you enjoy a wordless dinner, though not uncomfortable. finally, you ask, “did you win your matches?” “yeah. all because a pretty girl patched me up beforehand.” vi grins as pink tinges your cheeks. the same color as her hair. “oh, by the way, i picked up some black hair dye for you. this one should survive wash day, though.” you set a bottle of hair-dye on the table, but vi’s eyes don’t leave you. “wow, maybe i’m the princess here.”

───────────────୨ৎ───────────────

over the next few weeks, the two of you settle into a steady rhythm. vi makes breakfast. you make dinner, though you’d started serving it a bit later into the night. you wake up earlier than her to appreciate her body, she goes to bed later because she likes watching you sleep. you take turns walking dog. she goes to the ring during the day, you paint or go to the shops to sell your creations. in such a short span of time you’d become comfortable around each other, an odd little family. but you can’t deny the flutter in your stomach when she smiles at you, the blush that creeps into your cheeks when you tend to her wounds, just another excuse to touch her.

tuesday 7:13am

yesterday, i helped vi dye her hair black. god, it was a mess! got dye all over the floor and i swear my bathroom hasn’t smelled the same since… it was fun, though. it felt very… i don’t know. domestic. she got dye on her nose and i rubbed it off. why’s she so cute? you know what, i’m gonna go walk dog now. clear my head. hopefully clear her with it.

friday 9:40am

why am i up so late, you may ask? because last night vi was showering at 1 freaking am. either way, the sound woke me up and i had trouble falling back asleep. even though i bought her her own body wash—one that smells a bit more, i dunno, manly—she’s still using mine. i don’t know what to make of that. it’s a waste of money, that’s for sure.

saturday 8:46am

we kissed! oh my god, it was wonderful. she came home one night all bruised (as per usual. it’s starting to bug me, tbh) and i was just putting some ointment on her cheek and… and she kissed me. just leaned forward and did it. needless to say, i had to redress her wounds afterwards. haha, i’m so funny.

diary, i think i’m in love.

also, unrelated, but we started sleeping in the same bed. or related?

───────────────୨ৎ─────────────

vi thinks she might be happier than she’s ever been. happier than she was with caitlyn. happier than she was when her life’s mission was reuniting with jinx. much happier than she was fighting with no reason to win. now she fights her hardest every night because she doesn’t want you to worry, doesn’t want you to think she can’t hold her own. god, she’s so pretty. it’s become a reoccurring thought in her mind. from when you wake up in her arms, hair messy and eyes blurry with sleep, to when you’re sitting at your desk with paint on your fingers, too focused to notice vi staring, you're pretty when you wear that tank-top or dress under an apron or even nothing at all. she’s more content than she’s felt in a long, long time

vi’s so in love.

───────────────୨ৎ───────────────

“you’re late.” your voice comes out harder than you want it to. more edged. but you can’t help it; vi’s been less punctual lately, coming home late into the night with bruises and scratches all over her skin. even your kisses don’t help as much as they used to. “i’m sorry, princess.” vi closes the door behind her, reaching for you as you stand, arms wrapped around yourself, next to the door she’d just entered through. you pull away. “you always say that. but when’re you gonna stop?” you look up, arms uncrossing, a new fire in your voice. “when’re you gonna leave that shithole and get a real job? stop wasting your potential in stupid little fights?” vi falters. for the most part, you were a calm person. but this was a side of you even she was unfamiliar with. colder. “s-stupid fights? those stupid fights make us money!” so she reverts to the only defense she knows—anger. “much more money than your drawings ever made us.” “i thought you—i thought you liked my art.” your face says it all. vi knows she fucked up. “wait, princess, I didn’t mean it like that—“ “whatever. i don’t want to talk to you right now.” you swat away vi’s extended hand, storming into the bathroom and locking the door.

vi waits for you to come out. you don’t.

it’s late, 3 in the morning, you’d guess, when you come out. your eyes are red and puffy from crying, and though you know vi’s likely mirror yours you can’t bring yourself to care. or maybe you are trying to pretend you don’t. vi’s sleeping on the couch, a fact that pains your heart—your traitorous heart which you quickly scold—and the bed feels cold to the touch without her beside you.

come back, princess. that’s the thought that fills vi’s dreams. when she wakes, you’re still asleep. she wants to climb into bed with you, wrap you in her arms and rock you back and forth until everything’s okay again, but she knows she shouldn’t. has no right to. she simply watches the steady rhythm of your breathing, trying to time hers with yours. she does this until she has to go back to the ring.

vi being gone when you wake is in instant reminder of your anger towards her. your first thought is that she’s gone. gone for good. and then you remember that’s not how it works, you remember, despite everything, she’s not your ex and you’re not caitlyn. though you curse your words, you have to admit their sentiment was true, even if they were expressed incorrectly. vi’s job does stress you out. you thought once you gave her a place to stay she’d find her place in the world. but she wouldn’t leave that filthy fight ring despite how much you pleaded with her to please be sensible. it’s not that you don’t trust her, as she’d accused you of when you first brought the topic up. it’s that you don’t trust anyone else.

so you go to the bar. the bar where you and vi first met. the bar where you invited her over. and once she arrived at your house, she never really left. you, once again, regret accepting a mystery drink, and as you stumble into the bathroom, banging on the door, you get a sense of deja vu. the nauseous feeling in your stomach. the bright—too-bright—lights, the person standing in front of you as they open the door.

“princess? princess, please don’t go.” vi grabs your hand as if she expects you to run away from her. instead, do the next best thing: you vomit.

───────────────୨ৎ───────────────

“well, that’s a… full circle moment right there,” vi jokes, taking her shirt off and handing it to you as you begin scrubbing the sick off of it in your kitchen sink. she sits at the table. her voice becoming quiet when you’re unresponsive. “hey, princess, could we please make up?” you take pity on her. your gaze feels like the first sign of spring at the end of winter as you turn to face her. “vi, i was serious. i don’t like you fighting there. i don’t like you fighting, period. and i get it—i get that it’s a part of your identity. i don’t want to take that from you. i just—i just don’t want you to be taken from me.” vi stands up before she herself registers it, in two strides wrapping you in her arms. “pl-please put a shirt on,” you hiccup into her bare chest. “i will. just let me get this out first, okay?” vi inhales, as if ready to make a big speech. “i love you. and i get that, much like part of loving me is loving how i fight, part of loving you is loving how much you care. so we can compromise, yeah? i’ve been thinking, i mean, i’ve actually been thinking of this for a while now, that i could start my own academy. teach people to fight. a teacher, not a fighter.” you look up into her eyes. “really? you’d do that? you’d sacrifice that for me?” vi tousles your hair. “it’s not sacrifice. it’s love.”

“oh, i’m so kissing you after i brush my teeth.”

epilogue──

“hey, v?” you readjust your head on her chest so you can look up at her, your bodies tangled in sheets and bathed in morning light from the window. vi tangles her fingers with yours, absentmindedly rubbing your smooth knuckles with her calloused thumb. “what’s up, princess?” “you ever think about getting hitched?” vi sits up instantly, you grumbling as you fight to stay on her body. “what, like, married?” “yeah,” you say, your voice more nervous now. “you asking me to marry you, princess?” vi wraps her arms around you, planting kisses all over your face, messy and wet and so full of love. “haha, stop!” you protest, your face scrunching in a smile as you pull away, breathless and giggling, nestling your head into the crook of her neck. “your stupid hair’s tickling me.” you sigh, content. “hey, don’t speak that way to your wife.”

───────────────୨ৎ───────────────

© 2025 thursdaysgrrl don't steal my work please !! (not that anyone would care enough to but js saying

[alpaca-clouds]

Wait! So, nobody knows there are Pirates of the Caribbean books?

So, a week ago I learned that... really nobody bloody knows about those books? Really?

I knew that Disney really had not done their part in advertising those books, only to then be very surprised to learn that the books did not sell. Like, duh, Disney, in a pre-tiktok world, you cannot just assume that people will find out about those books you publish, if you do not tell anyone about it. Unbelievable, isn't it?

But yeah, indeed. There are a couple of pirates of the Caribbean books. Now mind you, most of those books - or rather: all but one - are "young reader" books, so they are not particularly challenging in terms of language, or story. They have been released under Disney Press and mostly have been marketed through Scholastic back in the day. (As such, it will not surprise you to learn: None of these books ever was translated into any non-English language.)

Only one book I would actually call GOOD. The one that was not targeted at kids. However, I will say: I had fun with all of the books back in the day. They were fun books, that often did immitate the voice of the characters rather well, and gave some nice interesting background to the universe as a whole. So... Let me talk about the books a bit.

The Jack Sparrow Series

The Jack Sparrow series is the longest series among the Pirates of the Caribbean books, that basically go into Jack's life as a teenager. Long story short: Growing up as Teague's son, he kinda rebels against his father a lot. Thus, he runs away as a young teen and finds his own pirate crew. Most notably among them of course a certain Bootstraps Bill.

There are a couple of other characters in this. We see for example the young Annamaria, and some other background characters from the movie as crewmates. We also see his first meeting with both Norrington and Gibbs in those books.

Additionally these books (again, this is a fairly long series) go a lot furhter into the Nahua gods and how they cursed Cortez, as Cortez's ghost is a recurring villain in those books. And yes, this quite clearly says: Jack knew the gold was cursed. He knew from the beginning, but it is one of those common themes: Nobody ever listens to good old Jack.

It should be noted: These are books for fairly young readers. Meaning: The prose is fairly simple as it is aimed at a very young reading level. Meaning, too, that the books are fairly short. For the books of this series I usually needed about two to three hours per book to read it from beginning to end. I would guess most of these books are about 30-40k in length.

Now, compared to the other books, these apparently did not sell that bad. I would argue that this mainly is because even if the kids who found those books at Scholastic did not need to be very invested in the franchise to read those books. They were fairly nice child friendly Pirate adventures.

The books are named:

The Coming Storm

The Siren Song

The Pirates Chase

The Sword of Cortez

The Age of Bronze

Silver

City of Gold

The Timekeeper

Dance of the Hours

Sins of the Father

Poseidon's Peak

Bold New Horizons

The Tale of Billy Turner and other Stories (anthology of the side characters of the series and what they do after the end of the series.)

Now, the books are technically out of print by now. Though I think these are fairly available in libraries still - and go for fair prizes on used book portals. So these are probably the easiest books from this list to get.

The Price of Freedom

Now, chronologically the next books that came out for Pirates of the Caribbean, is also the one actual adult novel. The Price of Freedom. If you wonder where you know the name of the author from: A.C. Crispin is fairly known for her writing of extended universe material. Most notably she has written the Spock series for Star Trek and the Han Solo trilogy for the Star Wars books, though I guess those are among the "Legends" now.

This is actually written as a proper novel - and a long novel at this. The book has more than 600 pages.

This story starts out with Jack Sparrow having joined the EITC. Having worked for them for a couple of years now, he is by now the First Mate on the ship The Wicked Wench. When the ship gets attacked by pirates, the current Captain suffers a heart attack and dies, making Jack finish the trading route on his own. Eventually he makes port in Africa, where the current overseer of the EITC hears of this: Cuttler Beckett. He invites Jack to his mansion, realizing the two of them have much in common. Most notably, they both believe in the magical things out at sea - and that there is indeed a magical island somewhere out there.

Now, Cuttler Beckett has two slaves working on his estate, that he suspects of stemming from that island, and he has a plan: If Jack saved those slaves, they might be willing to tell Jack about that magical place - and if Beckett then is able to find the island, he could not only proof his family, that he is not insane, but also gain the Lord title, he has been trying to get for so many years.

As I said: This book is actually really good. Like, sure, some things in it have not aged perfectly, I generally have to say it still aged fairly well. Most notably for a book that came out in 2011 is that the main relationship in this book is a polyamorous relationship between Jack and two non-white women.

(It should be noted: It is fairly clear in the books that Jack is mixed race and at the very least quarter-Black. Think of that what you will. This is not really white-washing of a character, given that indeed the authors of the screenplay wrote him as white - but books then gave his mother African ancestry.)

Sadly, nobody fucking knows that this book exists, because Disney has not marketed this back when it came out AT ALL. This book's release was so underadvertized (even though it released basically at the same time as the 4th movie), that several book logistics companies had not stocked this at all. So, obviously this book did not sell at all, and never got a second print, making it expensive as fuck. However, you can borrow it in several libraries still.

Due to the bad sales and the fact that Crispin was diagnosed with cancer not long after the book came out and died of it, we sadly never got a sequel to this book, which means that we also do not know how the story of certain characters end.

The Legends of the Breathren Court

Rob Kidd, who wrote the young Jack Sparrow books, was also hired to write another series of books that were once more aimed at young readers.

The plot is basically like this: Jack had gotten himself a curse - which is bad. But there are even worse news: He needs the help of the other pirate lords to safe himself. The only good news: He has the Pearl now, the fastest ship in the Caribbean, thanks due some minor magical upgrades. But it is not going to be easy to convince the other pirate lords to help him.

Now, I should say: This series sold by far the worst. I would argue the main issue is, that these are kids books, but take place when Jack is in his 30s. While the Jack Sparrow books could be easily understood by kids, who had nearly no idea about the plot of the movies, you do need to understand the movies for this series rather well. So yeah. The book series was cancelled halfway through, though Robb Kidd did those fans of the series a solid, by convincing Disney to allow him to at least provide the last few books as epubs on his website. :)

Still, the series was cut down due to the cancellation. So the ending is a bit... chaotic.

The series is made up of the following books:

The Caribbean

Rising in the East

The Turning Tide

Wild Waters

Day of the Shadow

These books are usually available easily online. Not to buy, but, you know... Through other means.

Some thoughts in the end

I am honestly kinda sad, that the entire thing with those books never went anywhere. Disney did want at some point to get an extended Universe going for Pirates of the Caribbean, with more lore and everything. Back in the day there was also a game in development, that was supposed to be a AAA single player experience - but basically they cancelled it pretty much last minute. :/ And it is kinda sad.

I do think that this franchise could have been very interesting - if Disney did not rely too much on Jack Sparrow as a character. Now outside of Depp being a misogynist pig who needs, but refuses therapy, I do think that generally speaking the franchise would have been stronger, if they did not construct everything around this one character. Because fun fact: We do not have a whole lot of seafaring fantasy stuff out there and the worldbuilding in those books is really super interesting.

Some part of me wants to write a sequel to Price of Freedom - but I doubt that anyone is ever gonna read that, based that nobody knows the book xD

[officeobject]

(Not sure if I've already reblogged this but oh well).

Also, I saw this before having watched the episode, saw the episode, and they don't even mention him being 19 - it's from a source outside the show (so, a lot of people wouldn't know), she REFERS to him as a teen instead of just saying that young adults (since she and her twin are like, NOT young adults) - are easy to manipulate, so that means she SEES him as a teen, not even as a young adult, and the fact that she even says that, AND the fact that she even mentions his age in any way at all, is sure something - oh, and since we don't get to know his age within the episode, and he LOOKS like a teen/looks like he could be a teen, and it's at some place full of minors, and minors were a big plot-point (and a minor was the REASON Moxxie and Millie even went OUT there), and that she CALLS him a teenager, then for all the viewer's know, he could've been some 16 year old!

Also, now, I hate most teenagers more than the next guy, but I HATE the portrayal of him in the episode - like, why are we supposed to laugh at him getting groomed?! YES he is easy to manipulate, there's a power-dynamic, and he's full of hormones and a brain that hasn't developed yet - AND GUESS WHAT, IT DOESN'T MAKE HER A BETTER PERSON, FOR MANIPULATING HIM ANYWAY! Dude has a reason for dealing with drugs, and the shame and illegality of that, and presumably self-esteem issues, and has some pretty girl he's attracted to, who acts sexual for him, AND WE'RE SUPPOSED TO LAUGH AT THAT?!

And like, this isn't a teenager suffering their consequences from bad choices, or some jerk getting karma, or anything, this is some 19 year old getting therapy bills pilled up, and it's NOT funny, it's NOT satisfying, and the whole "teenagers easy to manipulate - lmao, so desperate" thing comes off as ageist.

They could've achieved something like that, in other ways - oh and by the way, no kidding there's an easy-to-manipulate teen dealing with drugs - THAT'S KINDA BECAUSE HE'S IN THE AGE MEANT FOR TESTING BOUNDARIES AND GETTING MORE FREEDOM AND FORMING IDENTITY AND DEVELOPING YOUR BRAIN ALL WHILE HORMONES RUSH AROUND - anyways, they could've achieved that, by making teens start drugs or whatever, just because they WANT to, or have some insisting on finding "the one" even though it's some guy who JUUUUUST touches the bar of being a nice person (by teenage standards which is even lower than the normal standards), or randomly jumping into a wall for a dare - in fact, I OFTEN write "youngsters be like" type of humor.

If wanting to write "man, that's a weird thing to say to a teen" type of humor, or something like that, then take inspiration from ME - like, make a character be like "awwww! Are you a good little teenie?!", or take inspiration from weird stuff you'd say when YOU were a teen, or make a character critique teens near a teen on accident, or make someone have a fear of teens to the point of comedy, etc.

And that's not even me MENTIONING, the OTHER weird stuff, from this episode!

"The lengths people go to justify Barbie grooming a teenage boy is so wild. It doesn't matter if he's 19 it's still weird as all hell."

Submitted by anonymous

[ckret2]

Hey is it a bad idea to skip the Axolotl arc, I really love your fic but that arc is just a lil' much for me. Idk, just asking if that would be a bad idea

Have a nice one! :)

You'll be confused by some future plot points that are dependent upon revelations made in the Axolotl arc, lemme see if I can sum up the important ones here. I'm compacting 50k+ words into one post so it'll probably leave things out.

Bill has been a ghost since the Euclidean massacre. This doesn't affect anything, it just means he had a physical body and now he's made of energy; but it surprised a lot of people so I guess it's worth mentioning.

Bill doesn't consider himself dead.

immediately after the destruction of Euclydia, Bill kidnapped a bunch of (living and undead) shapes from neighboring 2D and 1D universes and claimed they're his dimension's people.

the Axolotl arc does not explain why these shapes don't seem to be around when we see Bill's Henchmaniac era a trillion years later.

kidnapping the neighbors damaged/incinerated their dimensions.

when a universe burns, the most common element (hydrogen, 75%) colors the flames blue—like Bill's flames.

the multiverse has parallel timelines and weird dimensions like "46'\" and "M" rather than 0, 1, 2, 3, 4 because the gods had to restructure everything so Bill's Dimension 0 renovation wouldn't collapse the whole multiverse.

Dimension 0 was supposed to be a singularity, so time/space acts weird and the mindscape+landscape are collapsed into the same level of existence. You can imagine things into reality in D-0.

the grain-sized "speck" that's "all that's left" of Bill's universe actually is his entire universe, crushed into the seed of a Big Bang.

Euclydia's matter & energy are separated. Euclydia's matter is in the speck; Euclydia's energy fell into Dimension Zero.

Dimension Zero is an extension of Bill's will. The source of Bill's power is Euclydia's energy. D-0 and Bill are one entity: Dimension Zero is the anglerfish and Bill is the cute little glowing lure; or, Bill is the brain and Dimension Zero is the enormous battery. He has enough energy to set off a Big Bang.

the Axolotl arc does not explain how he did this. Only that he meant to go "up" (the third dimension) and was surprised to go "down" (the zeroth dimension).

As long as Bill contains an entire dimension's worth of energy, he needs a dimension-sized hole to exit Dimension Zero. Once the gods restructured the multiverse, Bill didn't have an exit.

D-0 is inherently unstable because there's too much energy/mass trapped in a space that isn't large enough for it. This also means there isn't enough room for Bill to Big Bang his speck.

the Axolotl is a psychopomp turned defense attorney who takes on divine legal cases that decide what afterlives souls are sent to. His long term political goal is to abolish damnation.

the Axolotl took Bill on as a pro bono client because he saw how Bill denied that his universe was dead, thought he could get this guy found not guilty with an insanity defense, and he figures if he can convince a divine court not to damn THIS dimension-destroying asshole, he can get a divine court not to damn ANYONE.

the Axolotl specifically set up his fish tank/office as an afterlife so that clients (like Bill) could request to be sent there when they die (like Bill did) so they can't be sent to another afterlife before their lawyer can reach them.

Bill's home universe didn't have a name when it was destroyed, just the serial number 2Δ. A god asked him the name of the first person to ever leave his universe, Bill said "Euclid," and thus it was posthumously named Euclydia.

Bill called Dimension Zero his "dream realm." The Axolotl arc doesn't explain when it changed to the Nightmare Realm.

Bill refused to tell the Axolotl his real Euclidean name. Instead, he said that as ruler of Dimension Zero, he should be called King Zero. The word "zero" comes from zéro -> zephirum -> صِفْر (ṣifr), which is also the root word forصِفْر (ṣifr) -> cifra -> cifre -> cipher; so he's still using that name.

VENDOR exists. THEY're a vending machine full of planets. THEY and Bill don't like each other.

I think that covers everything that might conceivably pop up again in future chapters.

[sophie-hatter-jenkins]

Part 15: Clock

A March 2025 Hinny Microfic for @ginnystrophyhusband using Prompt 28

545 words (Happy Friday! Celebrating with an early post)

All the March prompts that I write will be set in the same universe as, and form a prequel to, this fic.

Fair warning - it's going to be fluffy!

This little series has ended up with a lot more actual story than I expected, so if you'd like a bit more context to what's actually going on here, you might want to...

Read them all from the beginning on AO3

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

The midsummer sun is sinking towards the horizon before the last of the Weasleys leaves.

Bill needs to get home to Fleur, Percy has a date, George wants to check in with Verity at the shop, and Ron and Hermione… well, they don’t actually give a reason, but Ginny thinks that they just want to give Harry and Ginny a bit of space to breathe, and she loves them both even more for it. 

The last people to leave are Ginny’s parents. Ginny gets the sense that they’re waiting for something, and as soon as Ron and Hermione have gone, two soft ‘pops’ from the dunes just past the gate, she is proved correct.

“Harry, Ginny,” her father summons them. He has his arm around his wife, who is holding a large box wrapped in bright coloured paper, Merlin knows where she’s been hiding that all day. They’re both absolutely beaming. “Just before we head back to the Burrow, we have something to give you.” 

“A little housewarming gift,” adds her mum. 

“You didn’t need to,” protests Harry. “You’ve done so much for us.”

“Your first home together is an important milestone,” insists Mum, as she holds out the box towards Ginny. “It needs to be celebrated with something special.”

Ginny throws curious glances at her parents as she unwraps the gift, severing the ribbon and then carefully peeling away the paper. When she sees what is inside the box, she gasps. 

“What is it?” asks Harry, craning his neck to see. 

Ginny doesn’t trust herself to speak, so instead of replying, she lifts the gift up to show him. 

It is a clock, but not just any clock. It is a replica of the one that hangs on the kitchen wall at the Burrow, only the locations are a little different, and there are only two hands, one labelled Harry and the other labelled Ginny.

“This is amazing,” exclaims Harry.

“It took a little while to replicate all the charms, but it should work exactly the same,” Arthur tells him. 

Ginny lets her fingers trace each of the locations, more relevant to her and Harry than the ones on the original: Holyhead, Ministry of Magic and Investigating all make an appearance, alongside more familiar options like Travelling, Hospital, Home, and of course the all-time favourite, Mortal Danger.

Her dad watches her do it. “I can show you how to change them, if you need to,” he says.

“And how to add more hands, of course,” interjects Mum, with a pointed look. Ginny’s eyes widen, and Harry immediately turns bright pink. 

“Mum!” she protests. “We’re not even engaged yet!”

Her mother doubles down. “Yes, well. One day, though, when you’re ready, I hope that this will be the Potter family clock.” 

Ginny catches Harry’s eye. His cheeks are still flushed and he looks awkward as hell, but he still shoots her a lop-sided grin and a little shrug, and she knows straight away that it means ‘yeah, me too.’

She doesn’t quite realise it then, but in her head, it’s already become the Potter family clock. Her mum is right (again); it’s only a matter of time. Ginny hugs each of her parents in turn. “Thanks, Mum, thanks, Dad. I love it. It’s absolutely perfect.”

[orpheuswasmine]

“I need someone to remember me.”

HUMAN CONDITION POSTER FANART DROPPP RAAHHH 🔥🔥🔥

I WAS GOING THROUGH SM BUT HERE THEY ARE !!! Took so long hope you all like them though !!!

“I need something bigger then the sky.”

The Remenants of Bill

“Hold it in my arms know it’s mine.”

The Thriving Seed of Bill

“Just how many stars do I need to hang around me?”

This took me a while !!! And I can talk about the Bill vs Billy whole thing now 💀

Basically, how I read a Human Condition, it’s practically this whole dichotomy of Bill vs Billy and no one is aware of it. Believing Bill can change is an act of believing Billy is there, believing Bill can’t change means Billy is dead.

Billy is the root of Bill’s empathy and change, or what Bill would call, the root of his weakness. Bill considers Billy weak and deadweight, something worth forgetting. In the first lines, we ever read from Billy in A Human Condition is, “Just fit in”.

In the beginning of the Billy storyline, he himself in a major contradiction to Bill’s own beliefs and self-worth. Billy is what everyone hopes to achieve in the end, but Billy died the day Bill destroyed their dimension… right? Yes and no 🐺

The remnants live on and begin to crack through ways that Bill has taken notice of, especially when he’s with Mabel. It’s moments where he spends time with Mabel, I picture the hostile face shifting to a more softer and rounder face. Mabel brings out the best in him. Unknowingly the reason Billy returns. It isn’t just Mabel that brings the Billy side out. It could be objects of interest or of fear and even guilt. Objects of interest could be the silly straw or the spaghetti scene from the recent chapter. The fear and guilt of Billy is brought out by Ford when he chokes him out or when Bill wanders into the mind space Ford had locked up.

I have more to say about Billy, but man I gotta talk about Bill because I got so much to say about him.

Bill is a cheat, liar, and other say, a monster through and through. But Bill is simply a manifestation of survival and going against all of that he knew. The line in chapter 27, “Yes. I’m completely cured. My irregularity will not affect my ability to fit in, your excellence.” This is a lie that Bill said, this was an act of wanting to survive and protecting himself. This is also the point in the Billy storyline that Billy starts to identify himself with Bill and this is the same chapter where his mother and father starts to call him, Bill, as well.

This is the plantings seeds of Bill, that continue to thrive even after failing the very thing he was manifested for. He allowed not just himself but Billy to die. It’s only now they have another chance, but Bill believes he’s the sole reason why they had survived for so long before. Billy is weak and can only bring in danger. This pathetic, weak, piece of him is holding him back, and yet it is something worth protecting just to survive.

We see Bill truest form through lines like, “But Bill wasn’t weak. He was strong and he was smarter than all of them. They didn’t see it yet, but he could prove it! He only needed time. He wouldn’t be a burden, he would be a credit to all triangles, like his parents had said. He was different than other irregulars. He was better.”

But the next line is, “Because Bill was weak in the eyes of Euclydia. He was a freak, an irregular. He was made wrong. And yet. Bill wanted to live.”

Bill is a manifestation of wanting to survive and not letting anyone in. Even in this weak human form, that motivation drives home. He is protecting not himself but Billy as well.

I imagine if you were to enter Bill’s mind, it would be this split down the middle where Bill and Billy are seprated, but both of them have a piece of each other. Bill with a younger and triangle Billy, while good old human Billy is trapped with a more familiar triangle Bill.

Here’s pictures without the word 😼

“To finally get somewhere I can be all done.”

“Somewhere like Heaven.”

That’s how read Bill and Billy’s storyline and interpreted it. The drawings showcase them and in their own spaces. I like to think Bill is in the darkest part and only he and Billy illuminate the space. I gave him crazy long hair that would be everywhere since he is everywhere and because having long hair is great, but such a pain to try and maintain and take care of.

Billy looks the most like Bill’s human form, since he practically accepted this and the only artical of clothing he’s wearing is the sweater Mabel has gifted them. He’s in the brighter and hopeful side since he holds all the good parts. He’s just trapped with a piece of Bill, still trying to guard him.

Can’t wait to see what A Human Condition has in store and I’ll probably continus on with this theory/headcanon 😭 I actually have some headcanons about Bill and Billy, but idk if anyone wants to hear allat 💀

@sapphosscribe AGAIN, you’re such a talented writer! Got me thinking and all 😭 can’t wait to see what you have been cooking up 😼

[ms-demeanor]

The "bill the customer for tax as though it's part of the product" thing is one of the current things that's making me want to lose my mind that I can't get anyone to take seriously enough.

I asked the person who formerly did purchasing (as a small side part of a much more substantive role, they were happy to hand it off) how they were supposed to handle tax and the response was "include it in the cost of the order and bill the client for the whole cost" - this is a problem because it means that things are getting double-taxed.

Say you order a computer for $1000 and you pay 10% tax; if you bill the customer $1100 for it they have to pay tax on that whole amount and sales tax gets paid to the state twice.

What you're supposed to do in California is document all the tax that you, the reseller, pay and file for a quarterly refund. If you don't file for some of the tax in that quarter, you can file for a deduction at the end of the year.

So what the previous person described to me was incorrect. So I brought it up with the rep from our 3rd party accounting firm. "How are we supposed to handle sales tax on items that we purchase and pay tax on."

"Don't purchase items where you will need to pay tax. If you have to pay tax, apply for a tax exemption from the vendor so they'll refund it."

Okay, no shit. As soon as I realized we weren't documenting tax I applied for exemption from *7* vendors we were ordering from regularly but didn't consider us resellers (SEVEN???? SEVEN??????????? ONE OF THEM WAS AMAZON. APPLYING FOR TAX EXEMPTION AT AMAZON TAKES UNDER TEN MINUTES. WE HAVE PAID THOUSANDS OF DOLLARS IN SALES TAX)

But also, like, what if we need something *now* and we have to grab monitors from Best Buy for the client or order a printer from Staples for same-day pickup? Clients *really* don't like it when you send them to best buy or staples, so we're sometimes going to have to stop by the fucking walmart a block away from the client site and pick up an HDMI to DisplayPort cable and we're going to pay tax on it and there is a legal method of filing for refunds on this tax so who in the fuck should be documenting it and how in the fuck should we be filing for the refund and why in the fuck are you our third party accounting company if you don't have an answer for resellers occasionally paying sales tax??????? THIS IS NOT AN UNCOMMON ISSUE. WHY AM I THE ONLY ONE WHO REALIZES WE'RE GETTING FUCKED AND/OR SETTING OURSELVES UP FOR AN AUDIT HERE?

One of the problems that came up this week is actually a problem that came up in December.

On December 15th we got a warning about disk health in a server; there is a drive that is at risk of failure.

A ticket was created for me to create a quote to replace the drive.

There was no part number associated with the ticket, and because of the type of server, there was no easy way to access configuration information online and our hardware documentation is a disaster (I have thought it was a disaster since the acquisition; I set up hardware documentation at the old job specifically to avoid issues like this and now all that documentation is gone because we didn't keep any licenses of the old job's CRM). This was not a situation where I could find a part number.

I contacted Tech Alice and asked her to check the part number on the server. Alice reported back that because the drive was part of a RAID array, she couldn't get the part number. She recommended asking Bob, and put her time entry on the ticket.

I contacted Tech Bob and asked him if he could find the part number for the drive on the server; Bob also reported back that he could not find a way to get the part number from the server, he recommended that Charlie collect the part number when he went onsite. Bob added his time to the ticket (still my ticket) and added the status "onsite needed."

Now it is December 23rd. I have messaged Charlie and asked him to check the part number when he is onsite and have added him to the ticket. I'm out of the office today, Charlie is out of the office next week. Charlie does not remember to look at the part number when he is onsite. It is the end of the year.

Now it is January 15th. We lost the first week of the year to assessments, and the second week of the year to the state and our clients being on fire - people were unable to go onsite because of all of that. Charlie is going onsite. I remind him to get the part number when he is at the client site. When he is at the client site he alerts me that actually he is at their other location, not the location with the server.

Now it is January 27th. Charlie is going back onsite, he is on my ticket, the ticket is set to onsite needed. I remind Charlie that we need the part number. Charlie does not remember.

Now it is February 6th. We have created a whole new ticket for Charlie with the *EXPRESS STATED PURPOSE* of going onsite to collect a part number for the failing drive in the server. Charlie marks the ticket as "waiting materials" and makes a note that he can't replace the drive until we order the part.

Now it is February 7th. We have explained, in writing, in Charlie's ticket that we can't order the part until he goes onsite and collects the part number, because we cannot get it because the server won't report the part number if it's in a raid array for reasons that I'll be honest I do not understand.

Now it is February 14th. Charlie closes his ticket and he and Bob pull me into a meeting. The server at the client site is so old they're not sure it's a good idea to replace the drive. Charlie has recommended that the project team quote a migration to sharepoint, which the client has expressed interest in in the past. Bob makes a note of this in my ticket. But I do not close my ticket. I do not close my ticket because I know there must be some fuckery coming. So I put my ticket to "on hold" and set it to reactivate on March 10th so that I can follow up with the project team and see if the migration project is making any progress or if we still need to replace this drive because the server drive is still failing.

It is March 13th. I have a bad week. A very bad week. My manager looks at my open tickets and asks why on earth I still have a server drive failure ticket open from December. I explain that I only have it open to follow up on the migration because the technician suggested server replacement but if there wasn't progress we should still quote a drive, but I still didn't have the part number.

My manager puts me in a chat with me, Charlie, the Project team lead, my manager, and the service team lead and asks what the fuck is going on. I paste Charlie's last update on my ticket and say that I'll be happy to quote a hard drive but I still don't have the part number.

Charlie says "Oh, I put the part number in the ticket" and pastes a photo of a drive (low light, low contrast, and blurry but with a visible part number) in the chat.

"Great!" I say, and immediately assemble a quote and find stock. Then i look back at my ticket. "But I'm actually not seeing the part number on this [my] ticket. Where was that again?"

Charlie has put the part number on his ticket, which I was never on, which he closed.

"Ah, okay. I see."

And here's where the different standards that all of us are used to using work against us.

My old job built RAID servers all the fucking time. It was totally standard, totally easy, totally sensible, and I always knew to double the number of drives we needed for the storage we got because we'd be mirroring. Because we'd be using RAID 10. Because it's robust and can take a lot of failure. A drive failing in a server configured with RAID 10 is not ideal, but it's also not a drop-everything and panic emergency. I *still* wouldn't want to leave it two months in an ideal world but I can't drive up to San Francisco and get a part number, and sometimes the world literally catches on fire.

However, these new folks use RAID 5.

A drive failing in a server configured with RAID 5 *IS* a drop everything emergency, because if one drive goes down the whole system goes down until you can replace the drive and rebuild the array, and because RAID 5 is slower than 10, this can take a very, very long time depending on how much data there is. And if *two* drives fail the data is *gone*

So.

Whose job is it to get the part number, and whose job is it to know that the server is at imminent risk of failure?

Well, now I have properly reconfigured my internal alarms about any failing server drive, but I don't understand why none of the three technicians who worked on this ticket with me didn't at any point say "hey this is an emergency" (Alice is from my old team and used to RAID 10 also, I'm willing to give her a pass) and I'm *really* confused why Bob and Charlie would recommend *not* replacing a drive in a server that is that close to failure.

(And again, I just didn't know. Believe me, I am never, ever going to shut up about drive warning tickets in the future)

And, the thing that scares the shit out of me and my manager and part of the reason why this has been a bad week and I'm having stressful conversations: What if I had just closed that ticket instead of letting it reactivate to follow up on? What if I had just marked it as done when Charlie gave me the update? It wouldn't have been an old-ass ticket in my queue that my manager flagged, it would have been a note in an after-action report when the client's server crashed.

(The client has the quote now with the statement "this failing drive puts your server at risk of failure and we strongly recommend replacing" but they haven't approved it yet because they're really cheap so I'm going to have to send it again and say "this is a mission critical part that you need to replace; your server is at risk as long as the drive is not replaced.")

So. The boss is asking "why is procurement taking so long" and really, now that I'm thinking about it - because he brought it up - how much of this really IS supposed to be my job?

[demonlorddiva]

I've seen you doing a lot of the "sugar daddy stuff they do for you" type stuff, so I was wondering if we can have a rich MC, and do it the other way around? 😉

AHHH this is actually amazing cause I already had ideas for this! Generalized hcs cause I want this to be in one spot so I’ll mention as many of the boys as I can so everyone can have some fun! Long af and kinda mammon centric sorry but moneys kinda his thing 🤣

I mention:barb, diavolo, Lucifer, mammon, Levi, asmo, Satan, beel, belphie

RICH OBEY ME MC

SO It’s Canon that the rumor is in the devildom that if you make a pact with mammon all the riches you could ever want would come to you

But you don’t really see that when your in the devildom, you have to work for any money that you have so you pass it off as some sort of fantasy the people came up with

That is till you go to the human world

You go about living your life as normal. Oh hey! The supermarket is doing a raffle for a new tv! Why not put your name down?

What? You won? That’s crazy! Maybe the rumors are true?

You begin to test the theory with other sweepstakes, scratch offs, and even try out a slot machine all winning big on your first try!

The shock comes to you when you try the biggest lottery in your country. Maybe this has all been a coincidence and-wait what? Are those your numbers?

You decide to accept the prize anonymously, not wanting to draw attention to anyone around you

What do you even do with all this money? Your in the devildom half the year so it barely gets spent besides upgrading your apartment from the one bedroom you’ve been staying at

You decide to hire an accountant and a broker. Your elders always told you to invest in your future right?

Well your luck may have rubbed off on your broker, because the stocks he has you invest in skyrocket, causing the savings account you have to increase in numbers day after day

Lucifer has been insisting that you move into a nicer apartment that place your living in is too small-

“What do you mean? I moved already”

While having tea with Lucifer, Barb, and dia you spill where you moved and diavolo looks surprised to say the least

“YOU MOVED THERE?? that’s one of the best apartments in your city! If you need help paying for it I-“

“No need I have it taken care of!” You say with a smile

They decide to drop it… for now

Until you invite the boys for dinner at a nice restaurant

You’ve been here multiple times before so you know the food is fantastic!

All the boys order their food and everyone’s chatting

Beels eating up a storm just as you expected, your so happy to be together with everyone!

You even order some wine for the table! They might not feel the effects of human world alcohol but it still tastes nice!

After desert Lucifer and Diavolo flag down a waiter to pay the bill.. what? It’s already been paid for? By who?

The waiter points to you across the table

Diavolo speak up first

“Mc, I know you invited us but please let us help pay the bill, this is very expensive with so many people”

“Expensive? No way! And don’t worry about it I’m fine!”

Mammon speaks up next

“So your paying for this whole meal all by yourself? How are ya doing that?”

Well…

You explain to them the whole money situation

Mammon is floored and asmo looks like he’s about to FREAK

Asmo squeals “so you have a ton of money now? Omg that’s so amazing! How much do you have?”

“Well I’m not sure let me look” as you check your bank account on your phone

When you show it to them they are losing it

“So many numbers… I’ve never seen so much human world money in my entire life” mammon says, about to pass out

Don’t be surprised when he asks for cash or to go to the casino

Satan is SHOOK “this is insane, I never would have thought”

Lucifer looks at the numbers, surprised himself, and worried

But when you explain that you have people helping you invest and take care of your money he seems to relax

Barb and dia are also surprised but having experience in human world exchanges are more then happy to give you advice on investing in real estate or whatever financial advice you would need

I think beel and Belphie are just happy that your able to live comfortably! Beel loved the meal and from seeing your apartment bel loves the fancy bed and pillows you have, perfect for a nap!

Levi had some sort of idea that you came into some sort of cash. That figure that you bought and sent a picture to him cost a pretty penny! Not to mention the cosplays and custom wigs you ordered were expensive. But this much? WOW!

Asmo needs to take you shopping NOW. What do you mean you don’t have the most high end designer bags right now?

Satan is also just happy for you, it’s good that your able to take care of yourself here and that you have people helping you with taking care of this money

You laugh with your boys, ending the night wonderfully at a rooftop bar before they have to leave

You guys should do this again! It didn’t even put a dent in your wallet and you had so much fun! So what’s the harm?

[81pastrys]

The Mafia’s Princess

Part 5 / 16

Summary— Dinner with the drivers is casual, right?

Warnings— Pierre being forceful

A/N— the next chapter is let’s say, different.

Series list

The race weekend goes on, keeping myself undercover and away from media as best I can. I spent most of the weekend in Charles driver room. Which is where he changed, which means no cameras allowed.

He came in to change after FP2 and I watched him. His toned body, tanned skin. I drank all of him as he undressed and redressed himself. My eyes hungry for him then and there. “Don’t look at me like that Mon amour.” He smiled. He pecked my lips before returning to the main garage.

Once the day was over, I left the paddock avoiding cameras and following Charles from a distance. We get back to the hotel and relax. This is my life now.

I lay on the bed and he sighs looking at me. “Mon amour, there’s a dinner tonight.” He grabbed my arm and swung me into his embrace. I giggle and laugh at him. He smiles, looking into my eyes dreamily. He kisses me before letting me pick out an outfit.

I put on a tight fitted sleeveless tank with flowy slacks. I do my makeup, hair, and put on jewelry along with shoes. I take a glance at my nails that need to be redone. “Can I go to get my nails done sometime tomorrow?” I ask.

“Yeah, remind me to give you my card.” He responded, grabbing his own shoes to put on. He grabbed his wallet, his phone and we headed downstairs. “Shouldn’t be too far of a ride.” He said after opening the car door.

He was right it was about 7-8 minutes of a ride. He paid the driver and we set off into the expensive restaurant. The guys are all sitting around a long table and we join. I indulge in a glass of red wine.

“Princess drinks?” Pierre teased. He’s always been one to judge aloud. Especially when it comes to me. It’s interesting though how he acts around others when just last night he felt bad for his father’s guard stabbing me.

I hum and give him an aggravated look as I take another sip, my lipstick staining the glass. I wipe the corner of my mouth of any stray marks. I sit back in my seat with an arm resting across my crossed legs. Charles gives a look of lust and I brush it off with a shrug. His hand finds comfort on my thigh.

“You brought princess!” Esteban mentions me after patting my shoulder. I roll my eyes and look at Charles again. It’s his turn to brush off my look and we wait for our food.

The food arrives and I sit up straight with my legs uncrossed. We all eat our food and finish our drinks. The boys all pick one of their many cards and throw them in a pile. “What are you guys doing?” I ask confused but intrigued. They mix the cards and tell the waitress to pick a card. I stifle a laugh as they pick their cards up noticing Esteban’s card got picked.

“So it’s fair.” Pierre chuckles at me. Card roulette. Esteban gets the bill back and leaves a nice tip and we leave the restaurant. “Princess, how does everyone feel about you leaving?” Pierre gulped as we walk down a street near the restaurant. Pierre took the same route as Charles and I.

“Well.” I start. “I don’t know if they’ve noticed.” I say seriously. I didn’t feel like I was that important anyway. “Why? Has daddy run to you and asked about me?”

“Yes actually, he’s a bit upset.” He mentioned. My heart dropped and my stomach churned. They have ways to find me. My grip on Charles’s hand tightens and I look up at Pierre. “He needs business done and you were his best asset for that.”

“Clearly that didn’t suit me, because I’m here.” I say, attempting to hide the fear in my voice but ultimately making it more noticeable. “He didn’t treat me like his best asset.”

“Look, I know his guards are fucked in the head, but you got past them.” He said. “No female has made it past their antics without disappearing.”

“I wonder why.” I scoff. “Maybe when I go back, I’ll give him a call.” Pierre was getting annoyed by how unserious I’m being and grabbed my arm and forced me to face him.

“They need you in their business.” Pierre said with his hand on my shoulders. “If you don’t go back he’ll keep giving other girls false hope.”

I force my shoulders from his grip and look at him disgusted. “Let him.” I whisper in his face. I move to the opposite side of Charles away from Pierre and he leaves me alone.

Ahh shit now Pierre is involved

[mrbrightxside]

Eltingville sketches because I am suffering from Bill Dickey brainrot 👌

[the-great-horse-cocktail]

Alternate timeline where Stanley doesn’t accidentally ruin Ford’s project but he still doesn’t get into Geek Life University bc some kid showed up with a baking soda volcano