#or don't have/cant afford lol

[mintyvoid]

i have a hard time dealing with feeling unable to do anything. not sure if it's overstim or understim or lack of spoons- all of the above..?

like i technically did a lot (for me) today, i like showered and cleaned my toilet..replaced my pillow cases and even made a smoothie.

but after all that im just- tuckered out, but also incredibly crave to do something. and have felt this way for like 3 hours now and its so uncomfortable ugh.

my mind can't settle on something to do and my body is so fucking tired.

[lucalicatteart]

Poll adventure (paventure? lol) Day 16: read the small story tidbit below the poll for more details, OR just vote based on initial impression

(✦ see past poll results + further information HERE (link) ✦)

Yesterday's poll decided that The Adventurer should offer to help the travelers with their broken wagon.....

~

After much internal deliberation (and some zoning out staring at butterflies), The Adventurer decides it would be best to offer his assistance. Technically, he IS still following his goal of not getting distracted, because theoretically it would make his journey much faster if he were able to catch a ride on a carriage. So really, this is all an ultimate big brain genius strategy for maximizing efficient travel.. Or, at least that sounds like a good enough justification to him.

Gathering up all of his social courage, he approaches one of the travelers fiddling with a broken wheel near the far end of the carriage and meekly asks if there's anything he could do to help.

The man was so focused on his task, he seems initially startled to look up and find someone near him. "OH..! Oh, uhh.. help? With the wagon?", he smiles pleasantly, gesturing towards a few wooden boards that are just out of his reach, "Sure, kid. If you could just hand me th-"

"Apologies, but we actually won't be needing your assistance, stranger." A taller man, surprisingly almost matching the stature of the Adventurer, suddenly slinks out from somewhere behind the carriage, sternly placing himself like a barrier in front of the man working on the wheel. Wheel Guy nervously averts his eyes, making himself smaller, silently resuming his work.

The Adventurer tries his best to maintain composure against the weight of the tall man's bitter gaze, but can't seem to muster much of a response "Aeughh,,, uh… b-but, h- Bu--HHHh,,?.."

"Look, disregard whatever my father told you, he's old, never has any clue what he's talking about. It'd be best for you to simply move along." ('Father'? They don't look alike at all, and seem to be nearly the same age..)

"W-well.. he.. he didn't really tell me anything, I me-hhH,,.. I mean, I literally just got here, s-so...."

"Good. Even more reason to be on your way."

Placing a gloved hand firmly on his shoulder, the tall man begins to motion the Adventurer away from the wagon, but a strange noise interrupts, echoing from inside. Perhaps some sort of animal sound? Or a person faintly yelling about something? Or… both?

"WH-wHggg… whAT was t-that???!!" The Adventurer immediately stops in place, pausing to listen as the tall man keeps trying to push him ahead.

"I didn't hear anything, stranger."

"No, t-there.. was dEFinitely, UHH, a-"

"Likely something in the forest."

"Wh--aah... d.. do you think it was an animal?"

The tall man continues a dramatic struggle to 'subtly' drag him further down the road, whilst the Adventurer mindlessly digs in his heels, too distracted to even notice he's being so strongly prompted to leave.

"Many animals do, indeed, exist within forests. This should not be suprising."

"...It's just.. ..eughh… s… so weird…"

"I assure you, it is not."

"I-it really sounded like.. like it came f-from insid-"

"Yes, from inside the forest. Now, please, if you would.."

The noise interrupts again. It's definitely someone, or something, in some sort of distress.. And definitely from inside of the cart.

"wHoAAGH, aa!!! T-tHat's NOT from the f-forest, that-"

The tall man fully just shoves him now, sending the Adventurer toppling across the dirt, clumsily rolling and landing just past the other side of the carriage. A mother and young child who seem to be part of the traveling group simply stare down at him with empty blank gazes, wholly unconcerned about helping him up.

As the Adventurer fumbles back to his feet (still confused as to why he was even pushed in the first place), the tall man looms by the carriage, diligently watching to ensure that he leaves.

"Travel safe, stranger."

Despite his initial obliviousness, the Adventurer begins to piece the situation together as he stares back at the man, now fully convinced something suspicious might be going on...

…What should he do next??

~

~

~

Additional Information

the adventurer's current main quest: follow his map to reach the abandoned castle ruins and see the rare animal specialist about the mysterious egg he has

[drizzileiscool]

the funny lights

[ajarofpickledtears]

bitches will have their flat broken into or get murdered some day just bc as soon as people tell me something about having to check on something and they also have like tablets or whatever my trust in people's goodness and fear of confrontation kicks in so I will let them in, answer questions, make small talk, and only think about the fucking stupidity and recklessness later

[essercipertuttienonperse]

tried to explain to my uni mates who were born rich the ethics of paying taxes and why it's fair that poor people don't pay university fees... it went as well as you can imagine lol

[femmesandhoney]

Upsides of choosing the US for higher education?

its honestly still really good education lol? they overcharge for sure, but we have amazing institutions still. and if you long term see yourself living in the US, you get more immediate connections post college. tbh it can be way harder and more expensive and stressful for any kid at 18 to try and do college overseas, so i wouldn't rec that either honestly. but do take advantage of study abroad, school exchange programs, etc.

[endlessfuckup]

Hi! I just want to say if you ever need to vent/talk then feel free to shoot me a message!(:

i appreciate it :)

but i don't want to trauma dump onto you

or intentionally burden anyone else with my problems

thank u tho

[miupow]

what would each txt member do? cum inside/pull out/use a condom? I'm actually so curious about this one lol !! >< 🤭

teehee... nsfw , mdni !

soobin -> breeding kink goes crazy. begs to hit it raw constantly, cant get enough of the way ur pussy looks creampied. he'll make u a mommy if you're not careful (fucks like his career isn't at stake lmao)

yeonjun -> another creampie king. esp likes to cum inside and then have you cockwarm him while he keeps it all up inside.. hes so dirty , addicted to watching your ruined little pussy gush thick globs of his cum when he finally pulls out (thanks god for birth control every night before he goes to sleep)

beomgyu -> "i swear i'll pull out!" and doesn't pull out. "but we don't have a condom" will never stop him from trying to hit. genuinely tries to pull out but his pull out game is so bad .. snickers while you smack at him for cumming inside lol. also pulls out to cum on ur ass tits or face (esp facials he loves facials)

taehyun -> uses a condom religiously. safe sex or no sex he can't afford to have a kid rn. no amount of "im on the pill!" will sway him. (but when ur married and family planning... its a different story)

hueningkai -> pulls out. loves cumming all over your belly and tits.. also he's totally the "but i don't have a condom" trope lmao he'll use condoms for safety but the minute he gets a taste he can't go back (also him cumming early by accident mid thrust.. pulls out of you to thrust back in but he misses ur hole and just cums all over u)

[3liza]

man it sucks so many people on here have absolutely convinced themselves that entire categories of consumer goods like perfume are bougie. you are depriving yourself of little treats by just assuming you cant ever afford anything! this isnt an avocado toast post either im not saying 'just save up and buy it lol', i would never say that, what im saying is perfume (that is: scents in liquid, paste, oil or solid form intended to be worn as a personal adornment) as a commodity starts at "free" and gradually increases in price from there. my favorite perfumes are priced everywhere between $0 and $300. one of the most lauded amber scents in the world (regrettably JUST discontinued), "Amber Paste" by Kuumba Made, is one of those little hippie oils you get at Whole Foods and it cost $10.

and im not telling you to wear perfume, obviously people have allergies and shit, or just dont care for it, im talking to the people who WANT to own fragrances. im saying they aren't all going to cost $150.

you can also get unlimited (unlimited over a long enough timeline, they limit you to a couple or three per visit) free samples at a lot of sephoras and nordstroms if you live somewhere that has those stores (this depends on the location and a lot of other organic factors, you'll have to check ahead of time or just try it if you're nearby, it's sort of random). if you're actually buying something at sephora (and they have a lot of stuff that isn't a million dollars as well, despite their branding) ask for every free sample at checkout that they have. they will often load you up, and not just with perfume. secondhand outlets like Value Village and Goodwill also do huge business in perfume because people are ALWAYS donating it.

sephora also does perfume refills. if you actually do buy a full size bottle, they can refill it for much less than buying a whole new bottle of the stuff. i don't know exactly how much it costs because i havent used this service myself. and idk how careful yiou have to be about reeceipts either, but look into it if you bought a full size and its running out

idk it just bums me out there are all these people who actually want perfume and seem to think it's out of their price range. the really basement-tier dupes of popular brand scents are so good these days it's often worth dropping the $10 at Walmart or Rite Aid too.

some of my favorite ever perfumes were some weird crap i got in a crystal wizard store, or a drug store, or a goodwill, or whatever. if you want perfume you can get it

[rafeandonlyrafe]

feeling generous

words: 1.3k

warnings: 18+ only!, smut, dubcon!!, blackmail!!, blowjob, cum eating???, voyeurism, public sex, car crash but like its in a parking lot lol, pogue!/broke!reader

“shit, shit, shit.” you groan, quickly putting the car into drive and moving a few feet, cringing when you hear the crunch of metal coming undone. you throw the car into park and hop out to see your worst fears actualized.

“are you fucking blind?” the shout makes you jump. you didn't even realize that the owner of the car was sat in the driver's seat.

“im-im so so sorry.” you shake your head quickly, surveying the damage. you caught their back bumper with your own, the red paint from their car flaking onto your silver one. “i-i didn't see how close-”

“no shit you didn't see! jesus fucking christ, do you know how expensive this car is?” he shouts, standing to his full height and slamming the car door closed. you don't know how much the car is, but judging by the look of it and the man driving it, certainly not cheap. “this is a custom paint job too.” 

he places his hands on his hips, eyes shifting between glaring at the ruined back end of his car and you.

“insurance and id. now.” he huffs out. “before i call the cops.”

your eyes widen. you have the minimum required insurance, and even that payment is killing you, there's no way you'll be able to afford it if you get an increase for a crash.

“can i pay you out of pocket?” you offer, clearing your throat, trying to keep a level head.

“no way you're able to afford it.” his eyes turn towards your car. it's old, a junker, but gets you around fine enough. and best part, it was free, a hand me down after your grandma bought a newer car.

“i-i probably cant, but i can't afford the insurance increase either and i- we can work something out. please.” you don't care how pathetic it is, you'll get down on your knees in the parking lot if you have to. you're not beyond begging and pleading.

he looks you up and down before grunting, heading back towards his car. your feet spring into action, grabbing onto his wrist, not wanting him to reach for his phone.

“no, please, sir-”

“rafe.” he says, hand twisting so now he's the one holding your wrist. “my name is rafe.”

“oh.” you blink up at him before responding. “my name is y/n”

“you shouldn't have told me.” rafe holds his hand up. “in case i change my mind. you're lucky im feeling generous today.”

“oh my god, thank you so much!” you feel tears well up in your eyes.

“don't thank me yet, darling.” his gaze turns dark as he looks down at you, only now realizing how tall he is, how he towers over you.

“what do you mean?” you question.

rafe takes your hand gripped tightly in his fist, turning it and bringing it down to place it on his crotch. your eyes widen when he moves your fingers back and forth over his shorts, stroking along your length.

“i- what are you doing?” you try to pull your hand away, but he's holding on too tightly.

“it's either this or we can get insurance involved.” rafe looks at you, the shiny lip gloss smeared over your mouth. you may be a broke pogue, but your mouth should be good enough to please him, to ease some of the tension from getting his car hit.

“im not a prostitute.” you say, certainly not meaning this when offering to work something out.

“yet you're gonna get on your knees and suck me off. or i call the cops.”

“right here?” you look around the parking lot. it's pretty empty, but it's the middle of the day, the sun shining down on you, making the illicit act obvious to anyone who looks between where your two cars are parked.

“yeah.” he shrugs, pressing your hand harder into his crotch. he's obviously hard, seemingly almost painfully so.

you look back to the damage, the cherry red color that you're sure isn't stock, and then sink down to your knees. rafe smirks down at you as he drops his hand away from your wrist, light purple bruises already forming.

you gulp and resolve yourself to what you're about to do, tugging at his zipper before undoing the button on his shorts. you open up the flaps, eyes widening when you take in his length through his underwear.

rafe chuckles before pushing the elastic down to pull his cock out, exposing it to the warm summer air.

“suck.” he simply commands.

you open your mouth, taking an experimental lick at his tip, surprised that the taste isn't completely repulsive. you lick again before wrapping your lips around the head of his cock.

“come on.” he spurs you on. “do it good or ill cum in your mouth and still make you pay.”

the threat has you moving quickly, sinking down onto his cock, closing your eyes so you don't have to see rafe looking down at you. he may be attractive, but you're still getting forced to do this. 

“ahh, that's good.” he groans as you set a quick pace, bobbing your head up and down. you pray no one pulls into this part of the parking lot or looks your way. you'd be absolutely mortified to be seen on your knees for a man in the middle of the day, not even going into his car to suck him off.

rafes hands grip your hair, pulling them into two makeshift pigtails.

he lets you stay in control for a while longer before he gets sick of you sucking him off however you please. he shoves his hips forward, causing you to gag when his cock buries deep in your throat.

rafe doesn't give you time to recover, thrusting while holding your head still by the hair, tears now streaming down your eyes as he pushes in then out, in then out.

“fuck, you're actually good.” rafe chuckles. just his luck the dumb bitch who hit his car gives good head, your throat tightening as you swallow around him with every thrust.

you feel the combination of drool and tears drip down your chin, hoping rafe cums soon so this can end.

you place your hands on his thighs as your knees dig into the pavement. your jeans are going to be completely ruined by the time rafe is done with you, but at least you'll have money to buy a new pair.

you feel rafes cock swell in your mouth, your eyes widening to look up at him, the sun behind his head, illuminating him in a perfect halo, but he's no angel.

rafe pulls his cock out before he can cum. you stick your tongue out, knowing exactly what to expect as rafe strokes himself quickly, moaning as if he doesn't care about being seen as his cock shoots out ropes of white cum onto your face and awaiting tongue.

he taps the tip against your tongue, smearing it through the mess of white. “kiss it.”

it's humiliating, but not any more than what just happened. you pucker your lips and press a kiss to the tip of his cock, seeing that it's already beginning to soften.

rafe tucks his cock back in as you pant on the ground, hands coming to your thighs as you try to gain composure.

“hey.” rafes voice has you looking back up, your eyes widening when you see he's got his phone now, taking a picture of your disheveled state, face still covered in his cum.

“what was that for?” you shout.

“part of your repayment in case you ever try to go back on our agreement.” you understand what rafe means. in case you try to tell anyone he forced you into it.

rafe smiles when the look of acceptance sinks into your features as you resign to your fate. he bends down, looking you in the eye before his tongue presses against your jaw, dragging up your cheek, tracing the trail of your tears, not caring that he also tastes his own cum on his tongue. 

“see you around.” he smirks, swallowing your tears dramatically as he gets into his car, speeding away before you even get your knees off the ground.

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @rafeyslove @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeyisthelastname @pradabambie @tobesolovelysstuff @alexiskirkland @rafestar @brioffthegrid @juniebugg @magicalyoura @cokepewpsii @mysticallystilinski @luvdella @aerangi @vogueprincess @auryyz @mayhem-72 @thestarlithideout @marvelfanfics1recs @rafesgiirl @ditzyzombiesblog @chiaraanatra @tobiaslut

[transmasc-advice-blog]

Binding

Binders

I found that Spectrum Outfitters worked best for me (prices range from $50-$39). I also have binders that are older and stretched out or that don’t work as well (like gc2b) that I use when I don’t need as flat of a chest because they are easier on my rib cage lol. If you do that, do NOT count that as a break!

Practice safe binding!

Don't bind for more than 8 hours

Don't sleep in a binder

Don't exercise in a binder

Get the right size

Try to only wear a binder for 5 or 6 days a week (this one is hard, I know)

If it hurts, take it off!

If you notice bruising, something is wrong! Your binder might be too small or you may be wearing it for too long.

TransTape

Wearing binders all the time is not too good for you so I recommend using a variety of different binding techniques. One is TransTape!

The reason Ace bandages are unsafe is because as you breathe it gets tighter and tighter and can really hurt you. But TransTape doesn't do that, it's like the tape athletes use when they sprain their ankle or something. It's safe as long as it is used properly. Plus, you can wear it for up to 5 days, exercise and sleep while wearing it, and it's water proof!

TransTape isn't the only brand of course, but they do have a lot of great resources.

Learn more at their website here. I recommend starting with this page and the FAQ.

KT tape is another option if you cant afford/arent allowed to order TransTape. You can find it at most drugstores and box stores for relatively cheap. The adhesive isnt as strong as TransTape, keep that in mind when applying.

Men's Compression Shirts *I have not used these myself (yet) but I hear they work pretty well*

Made for cis men with gynecomastia but hey we can use em. Obviously will work much better for smaller chests, but could still do something for bigger chests, maybe for under a hoodie?

They won't flatten you as well as binders but the goal is more to masculinize the shape of your chest than to completely flatten it. They are also safer than binders.

Other stuff

The color black will make you look flatter

Layers! Lots of layers! (don't overheat)

Sports bras

Compression bras

Button ups <3333

Resources

Pain-Free Binding Techniques | Youtube Video by Arthur Rockwell

Binding 101 - Point of Pride

Binding Safely - Spectrum Outfitters

How to Hide Your Chest (without a binder) | Youtube Video by Iris Olympia

Binder Care - Spectrum Outfitters

Please free feel to add!

[tremendum]

heaven is a place on earth ; joel miller

02; stopping and stalling

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:

au (pre-outbreak, altered ages), Joel Miller x fem!nanny!reader. dedicated to the anon who suggested this trope.

↬   prologue  part one series masterlist main masterlist

↬     "after only a few weeks, your mind spits at you - only a few weeks, and you already fucked this up."

↬     warnings; tagged 18+ for eventual smut and mature themes. MDNI. age gap (reader is 22, joel is 35), fiscal anxieties, shitty ex, brief mention of marijuana use, some Tommy x reader, brief allusions to masturbation, fantasies, brief hand kink, brief scent kink (???lol), brief praise kink (use of term girl), car talk tbh im sorry... also light angst/anxiety i guess, fluff. reader is described as smaller than joel.

↬     heyyyyy guys! thanks for being patient, i had some writer's block but im finally back! i hope you like the next part of this series, lmk what u think/if theres anything you'd like to read w this trope. also im sorry i cant help that there is flirting with tommy too,,, i need them both expeditiously lol. xoxo love u all

series mixtape, song three; In Too Deep, Sum 41. 2000.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:

"shit."

thighs burning, your shoes squish against the soaked pavement as you carry yourself as fast as possible down the sidewalk. "shit, shit, shit."

the rain that pours from the sky is unforgiving; your hair slides in a stringy mess against your neck as you try to calm your heartbeat, blurrily watching as the house grows larger in your wavering vision.

bottom lip quivering, you ignore the cold shiver that comes up your spine; why today? why, why today?

you're afraid to check your cellphone; hell, you haven't even thought to check it until now! shit. Joel's probably pissed.

you let out a pathetic groan, heart hammering as you ignore the time on your wristwatch: 8:21am. twenty-one minutes late.

fuck, you think. fuck fuck fuck.

you could have texted Joel - in fact, any rational person would have probably had that immediate thought after their car sputtered to a stop on the side of the road, smoke slinking from the side of their hood as the rain splattered aggressively on the windshield.

you should have texted him, let him know you'd be late - but then, you'd gone into your damn glovebox to check your AAA number and been reminded unpleasantly of what you've been working hard to forget; your ex's full name boasted across the registration for the car had sent you into a near frenzy. everything that's built up - the near-eviction, the breakup, the move, the rain, your car. all of it hit you at once.

there's no way you can afford to pay for a fixed engine (and shit, you don't even know if the engine is the problem) without insurance, and your dickhole ex has still not signed any of the paperwork for you to take the title of the car back. so. shit.

for over twenty minutes you've been trudging through the rain - you're soaked to the bone, fighting back tears, and already wondering if you'll be able to take back your full-time job at the library. 

after only a few weeks, your mind spits at you as you turn the corner up the driveway, only a few weeks and you already fucked this up. 

you have to shut your eyes harshly as the front door opens; whoever's on the other side must have been watching out the window for any sign of you - and here you are, washing up on the Miller's driveway like a batch of late season seaweed; a wet puppy, shaking and trying not to have a full breakdown, your eyes clenched shut. 

Joel's voice finds your ears as you finally make it onto the porch - a respite from the downpour, there's just a slight breeze that blows mists of rainwater over your cold form.

you feel like an idiot. you cannot afford to lose this job. you're a fool. 

Joel says your name in concern; a far cry from the anger you'd expected. "y'okay? what happened?”

you take a shaky breath, meeting his eyes - they're warm, honeyed in the darkened skies of the morning and it makes you feel so much worse. he must've slept in, too - odd, considering it's a Wednesday - he's wearing pajama flannels, a gray shirt, and his hair is fluffed out - curling up at the ends, the tips still damp from a shower. Tommy's work boots are gone from the front - he must've gone to work, Joel staying back to wait on your tardiness. fuck.

"I'm so sorry, Joel-" your throat closes up, blinking back the emotion that wavers in your voice. you feel stupid. "I'm so sorry I'm late-" you shake your head, praying to every god up above or below to make your lip stop wobbling so pathetically. 

but Joel doesn't hesitate to step aside, brows drawn low, "come in, you're soakin' wet." 

you bite your lip as you shuffle inside, barely registering the hovering palm on the small of your back as you awkwardly stand on their doormat, focusing your eyes blearily on the darkness of the house. 

the overcast storm throws the usually warm, sunny house into a bout of cool blues and grays - the drawings on the wall, the guitar in the corner reflecting the rolling clouds from the window panes. you suck a breath through your lungs and ignore the way it draws short - either you're very close to crying, or you really need to stop smoking so much weed. probably both. 

"did you walk all the way here?" Joel asks, brows furrowed in that kind look of concern, eyes flickering to the storm outside and back to you. "where's your car?" 

this brings a fresh bout of tears to your eyes and you look up towards the high vaulted ceiling of their foyer, shaking your head. 

"my car broke down, just off Park Street, and I can't-" you sigh, biting back the sting of tears, "I can't take it in, and it was pouring rain and I didn't want to ruin your day-" you are forced to take a sharp inhale, letting out stuttered breaths. you shake your head, hands rising to wipe what's surely the streaks of mascara that have gathered under your eyes, your clothes still sticking to you and hair dripping solemn pools onto Joel's hardwood. "I'm just so sorry that I'm late. I swear, it'll never happen again." 

something in his face becomes very soft - maybe it's the lighting, that casts a slight shadow from his nose, or the way his brows gather together in an upwards tick, but he shakes his head at it makes your heart pang. 

"didn't you see my text, darlin'?" he says softly, "we called off working today. 's too stormy to do construction." 

the name drips from his lips so casually you barely register it fully. your cheeks heat; you're not sure if it's more from his use of the term or from the slow realization washing you in a wave of embarrassment. darlin' - you're not unused to people using words like that, hell, you grew up here - but it's different coming from his mouth.

you ingore that thought; your hands shake slightly as you move to pull out your phone - your purse is soaked too, three shades darker than it usually is. the buttons on your cellphone are damp and your heart pangs when you wonder if it'll be ruined from water damage - but there it is, a text from Joel about forty minutes ago: 

Rain is coming down pretty hard today. You don't need to come over—Sarah and I can manage. Take the day off and relax, you deserve it.

Thanks. Joel

your throat closes tight: "oh," you squeak, biting your lip as the screen becomes blurry; relief floods through you just as embarrassment does - a fun cocktail in your veins that makes you smile weakly. "didn't-" you clear your throat, "didn't see that." 

only a split moment of silence in which the house withstands the assault of rain on its roof; Joel hums, "here, let me get you a towel.”

he disappears down the hall and you take the moment to breathe deep; letting the warmth of the house seep into you, your hands tremble with the emotional strain of humiliation that is coursing through you. what a fool. your heart beats hard in your throat, but there is a large relief when you understand that Joel does not seem keen on firing you for being 20 minutes late to the job he told you not to come in for. you curse yourself for not checking your text messages before leaving your apartment this morning.

Joel returns quickly, towel in hand; you take it and can only bring yourself to whisper your thanks into the empty foyer. 

“don’t worry about it." he says, shrugging one shoulder, "y'said your car's on Park Street- that's over a mile away, why didn’t you call me?”

you strain the water from your hair with the towel, clutching the scent of the warm fabric to you; it's not pink like the one's in Sarah's bathroom, and with a heat on your cheeks, you register it must be one of Joel's. shrugging, you shake your head. “I didn’t want to bother you - or, I guess I was just...distracted. my car… is sort of complicated.”

Joel’s brow furrows, “complicated?”

you hesitate - you don't want to come off to your current 'employer' as untrustworthy or reckless, but it's Joel - he's kind, understanding, if not a bit aloof at times; but you trust him. you swallow with a bitter chuckle, “the car’s title is still in my ex’s name. I can’t bring it to a shop without him, and I don’t know how to even check under the hood myself-”

your hand flies to your face to furiously wipe away the tears of humiliation that fall; great. just what you needed - to cry in front of him like a baby. 

“hey," a hand, warm and heavy, falls to your shoulder; your wet eyes trail to his figure, where he soothes over your shivering arm. you miss its presence as he pulls back away, "if you want, I’ll take a look at it when the rain stops.”

you shake your head, "I couldn't ask you to do that." 

"you're not askin' me, I'm offerin'." he insists; you meet his eyes to find generosity swirling in that honeyed brown; you smile up at him with a watery gaze, unsure how to thank him.

"you can stay here 'till then, or I can give you a ride back to your place in a bit when Tommy gets back. he had t'run to the job site to get our tools." 

you look up at him, craning your neck as you search his expression for any hint of irritation or anger - none. you flush as you wipe under your eyes again, “thank you, Joel. I'm sorry, again, for this..." you look down, gesturing vaguely to yourself,  "...mess." 

he holds your gaze for a moment, as the rain pours against the slats of the house and the panes of the windows, and shakes his head slightly. your stomach rolls over as you stand, still shaking with the nerves and cold, not breaking contact: something about his utter calm in the middle of your hurricane-mind has your face hot. 

Joel opens his mouth to say something, but before he can, a light on the stairwell flips on, and footsteps slide down the stairs, as if Sarah has taken to sliding down the carpet on the balls of her feet. you used to do something similar as a kid.

“dad?” Sarah mumbles, rubbing sleep from her eyes as she appears on the stairs; Joel takes a quick step back from you, the distance sudden and coaxing another rush of surprise to confusion over your cheeks - had he really been standing that close? you have no time to analyze the action before he's speaking to her. 

 “morning, sweetpea." he says, clearing his throat. Sarah's eyes meet yours and they widen slightly, padding over to you and saying your name softly, "are you okay?" she asks as she takes your hand gently. such a sweet girl.

you force a smile, weakened from the moment you'd just had, from the morning you've had; her eyes are so full of that same concern her father carries, though, and it warms your heart. you nod, “I’m alright, Sarah. just a little wet from the rain." you shift on the balls of your feet as your gaze flickers to Joel - he nods, looking back to his daughter, "well, how about we get you some breakfast?” he suggests. inadvertently you become aware of your own rumbling stomach, having come back to life after the realization that you aren't losing your job today. 

Sarah nods, her sleepy face breaking into a smile, “pancakes?”

Joel grins; it's as if the tension eases from the room as he nods back at her, “pancakes it is. 'm right behind you, sweetpea.”

Sarah traipses to the kitchen; you stay back awkwardly, watching as she disappears - Joel turns back to you, lifting a brow. "I can take a look at your car after the rain stops later this afternoon, or if y'want, I can take you home when Tommy's back?" he says, eyeing the keyhooks that remain empty by the front door; you shift on your feet, itching to flee, but itching to stay and embrace the warmth you've come to enjoy in this house. he continues with a small smirk, "-if you stay, I can't offer much besides some mediocre pancakes and some even more mediocre coffee." 

despite your humiliation and exhaustion, you can't help the short laugh at Joel's valiant attempt to lighten your mood; unfortunately his charm is undeniable, and you're reminded of what Michelle said to you those days ago: 

Joel is a nice man. just- don't get into trouble. 

you curb your smile, lifting a brow when you hear Sarah's voice call from the kitchen, yelling your name and dragging out the vowels. "-come help me with breakfast!"

you glance back to Joel, "if you really don't mind, then I'd like to stay," you say smally with a smile. "if I went home, I'd just lay around and mope. plus," you nod your chin towards the kitchen, "seems like you've been demoted from sous chef." you tease, finding a bit of yourself returning in the comfort of the sweet girl you nanny and her father. 

he grins back at you, shaking his head, "I don't doubt you'd make a better sous than me, darlin'-" he takes in your still soaking shirt, "but you should take a shower, I'm worried you'll catch a cold in those clothes."

Joel leads you upstairs, into the master bathroom.

you school yourself, keeping your eyes on his large frame, not daring to look around at his bedroom and all the different pieces of Joel you've yet to discover. you're used to Sarah's room, with pinks and blues and purples and action figures and textbooks - not this adult bedroom, with t-shirts and framed photos and a heavy scent of amber and cedarwood. 

he hands you a stack of clean clothes - a flannel and what seems to be a pair of sweatpants; you smile gratefully, ignoring the heat on your cheeks and in your chest; a feeling nestles in your heart, stuck halfway between humiliation and some kind of intimacy, neither of which feel right in this moment. 

you shake it off as he tells you to take your time, disappearing back down the hallway with a mutter about ensuring nobody set the kitchen on fire yet. 

you close and lock the bathroom door behind you, leaning against it for a moment to catch your breath.

the last hour has been a whirlwind: losing your car, almost losing your job, the humiliation of walking in the rain, showing up to work when you had the day off - all of it catches up to you. 

but instead of crying again, you let out a short huff, shaking your head. you'll be okay - smiling watery to yourself in the mirror, you puff your cheeks and blow the air out slowly. Joel won't fire you. you'll get help with the car. deeeep breath. 

the bathroom is small and intimate and you find it heats up very quickly as you run the shower; within forty seconds the mirror begins to fog and you're wrapped in a cocoon of warmth that eases the chill that's seeped into your bones. you peel off your wet clothes with still-shaking hands, slipping under the heat of the stream quickly. 

you stand, staring at the wall, for several minutes before snapping out of it; a thick scent has begun to leak its way into the steam of the shower, and you eye the culprit - an opened, unscrewed bottle of some kind of men's body wash. you blink with heated cheeks as you're suddenly assaulted with visions of Joel in this very shower; the thought sends your heart racing and you swallow thickly, not able to resist the temptation to lather it over your own body.  

the smell is that same amber scent, citrusy and male - you don't mind it as you let the suds slide off your skin, trying not to think about him. Joel. his kindness, his concern, his hands- you shake your head, trying to dispel the thoughts; it's not right, you tell yourself.

just- don't get into trouble. 

it isn't right to think of him this way, especially when he's just being kind - especially when he's so much older, especially when you're the nanny for his daughter. 

but your hands linger on your skin, the scent of Joel's soap mingling with the steam, creating an intoxicating mix that makes your head spin; the soft weight of his hand soothing your shoulder, how it'd feel if he dragged those hands down - a pang of guilt and you quickly push the thought away, snapping back to the present. 

you slam off the showerhead, shaking your mind of your polluting thoughts. 

the towel Joel gave you earlier dries you off quickly, and you wipe away a small section of the mirror to see your reflection - you pull the clothes on he'd given you, cuffing the length of the pants, buttoning the warm flannel over yourself with a small smile. 

you don't let yourself wallow any longer; the smell of breakfast wafts up through the vents and into Joel's bedroom as you exit, a swirl of steam curling around you as you towel-dry your hair, recalling the comb that lives in Sarah's bathroom drawer. 

the warmth of the shower does wonders.

you pad down the stairs, only feeling vaguely odd wearing borrowed clothes, smiling as your stomach rolls in hunger - you feel much more composed. 

when you make it down, the dining table is set: four placemats, four plates, cups with orange juice, and three mugs of coffee. you raise a brow, "did I miss the fun?" you ask gently. 

Joel and Sarah are bustling around the kitchen, putting the final touch on breakfast - pancakes, fruit, the works. 

"-fun just arrived, actually." a voice from the hall makes your stomach flip, heat traveling up your neck. Tommy must've gotten home while you were showering. 

you roll your eyes good-naturedly as Tommy comes around the corner from the garage, nodding at you in greeting. "you look nice and cozy." he observes, eyes roving over your figure drowning in Joel's clothes. your lips press together, ignoring the fluttering in your stomach at his observation of your clothing. there is no implication - you're the nanny, it's all innocent, but the look he's giving you is not. as if he knows how Joel makes your heart thud and your mind fuzzy. 

"car broke down." you say quickly, sitting where Sarah directs you. Tommy hums, a look that could be read as skeptical, teasing, flickering across his face. Joel flips a final pancake in the pan, pacing over to slide it onto your plate gently. when he leans over you, he's close enough to ask quietly, "you feel better?"

it's soft, kind, as if he's cautious not to air out your previous breakdown to the others in the room. you're grateful. 

"yes. thank you." you say back, smiling genuinely at the man, eyes roving over the moustache which sits on his upper lip, the beard that's grown in and rises to meet his air-dried curls. he returns to work on another culinary project as Sarah places the fruit on the table and drags Tommy to sit down.

there's a bag that Joel is pouring a mixture into; some kind of meat inside, and you hum. Joel really is a very handsome man. "marinade?" you ask.

he looks over at you, nodding, "yeah, s'for the cookout this weekend." he sets the bowl down, sealing the bag. "you coming?" 

you smile tightly, nodding - any excuse to get outside, to see Joel, Sarah, Tommy, even Michelle and Dan. "should be," you say, anxiously looking over to where your car keys now hang next to Joel's near the front door - he must've hung them up for you while you were upstairs. Joel hums, "good." 

Sarah beams at you when everybody takes a seat. "dad said you get to stay with us until the rain stops." she says, poorly concealing her excitement with a grin. you smile back, nodding as you sip on the coffee poured for you. "yes, ma'am." you respond, stretching your legs out a bit under the table.  

"lucky us," Tommy says through a bite of pancake. you huff at his harmless flirting; you just miss the subtle glare Joel shoots his brother. oblivious, Sarah hums. "I hope it never stops raining!" 

it eventually does stop raining. 

it's a little before dinner; the air is fresh and damp, the grass that peculiar shade of green against the backdrop of those high thunderclouds that retreat after their previous downpour. with only a light breeze, the air is charged with some kind of electricity as you breathe in the the scent of petrichor it carries with it. 

"right," the voice says next to you.

Joel's arms are propped against your shitty car, his brows furrowed in focus. the engine still glistens with raindrops, and there's a small line of moisture that caught on the fabric of Joel's shirt from where he'd popped the hood of your car. 

"first things first. let's check the battery connections - sometimes they can get loose or corroded." he mutters, directing you with a long, thick finger over to your car battery; you nod, trying your best to pay attention. 

a finger traces along the seam of a smaller edge of the battery terminal, scarcely avoiding touching it. "see this white, powdery stuff?" he's looking at you; it takes you only a split second as you realize he's waiting for you to answer. you nod quickly, "y-yeah." 

he nods, "that’s corrosion. luckily it's not too bad here, but it can cause issues."

you hum, taking a mental note as you bite your lip - thankful that he's taking the time to actually explain what goes on in the inside of your car, seeing as you're next to hopeless.

he gestures again. "d'you know what this is?" he asks, and it's as if god has given you a freebie from your turmoil this morning; you nod, grinning slightly. "it's where you fill the brake fluid." you say in affirmation. "I have some extra in the trunk." you supplement, glad you're not a total idiot when it comes to the car. 

he nods, "been takin' care of that. good girl," he gestures to the side, "these here are spark plugs - good to keep an eye on, because they can get dirty or worn out and cause the car to have trouble starting. these also look alright, though."

you're barely listening, though; your ears are buzzing heartbeat thumping as you school the flush over your cheeks at such a casual praise - something he'd probably not even think twice of, because you're his daughter's babysitter, god damn it, but you can't help the stirring deep within you. 

good girl. jesus.

you press your lips together and force yourself to relax, to calm the fluttering in your stomach the heat in your lower abdomen. eventually, Joel reaches the fuel pump - "here we go. I think this might be the culprit." he turns to you, squinting against the late afternoon sun, "if the fuel pump isn't working properly, it can prevent the engine from getting the fuel it needs to run." 

he gestures for you to look and leans back a bit; leaning over to peer into the belly of your car, at all its metal guts and ominous sputterings, you suddenly catch a scent - a mix of your handlotion you'd applied on the ride over with Joel's soap from his shower stuck to your skin and wafting in the air, a pleasant smell.

your stomach flutters as you try to follow Joel's explanation, "'kay...how can you tell it's the fuel pump that's the problem?" you ask him, turning to squint up at him. 

"there's-" another gentle breeze, then, and Joel pauses; you stare back at him, unsure what's caught his attention, but then it's over quicker than it started. blinking at you, he clears his throat and nods, pointing to the part, "there’s a few ways, but mainly if your car cranked out while drivin', or if it starts an' then stalls, it's often a sign of a fuel pump problem." he taps it with two fingers, "this one looks pretty worn out."

you bite your lip, cursing your ignorance and the stupidity of your ex for insisting on taking care of the car jut to completely ignore it and take it for an oil change only every few blue moons. 

"can it be fixed?" you can't hide the anxiety in your voice. 

"course." Joel nods, closing the hood; you don't flinch at the sound, too worried by the engine. "'m not quite good enough to do it myself, but i've got a buddy down in town that can do it for ya for cheap." he smiles gently, "should only be a few hundred." 

your throat dries, stomach dropping. "c-couple hundred?" you hiss, pressing your lips together. "okay."

okay.

okay: you can take a few more shifts at the library, double up your days; that's fine, that's fine. you'll have to fix your car before your cellphone, but you'll be fine without texting for a while. maybe you could sell your portable CD player or some clothes for some cash. okay, shit. 

shit. 

you laugh mirthlessly, "I... I don't have that kind of money right now." you say awkwardly, "but at least I live close to the bus stop." you add, wondering how much a bus pass is. certainly less than that. 

"-listen, i'd be happy to help you out with it," Joel says, and your hackles raise in embarrassment, "-no, Joel, I can't ask that of you. you've already done so much." you say, looking down at yourself, still clad in his flannel and pants. 

he shrugs, as if it's no big deal. "could pay you advance. let me help you." 

you swallow thickly, biting your lip. "I feel bad, Joel. I already put you out." 

"hey," he says, turning to look at you - he leans slightly on the hood of your car, gaze burning into the side of your face. you flush, but meet his eyes. "don't worry about it. I can pay you ahead for your work to cover for it. all you've put me out on is a few pancakes, a cup of coffee, and my patience with my brother."

the mention of Tommy makes you flush with embarrassment, floundering, "oh. Joel, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-" 

he shakes his head, with a grin - he was teasing you. "Tommy's always been a flirt. I trust you can handle your own." he adds, "but you let me know if he's too much, yeah?"

something about his tone makes you even more flustered, though, and you grin, shrugging. "yeah. you'll be the first to know." you say, wondering how many people he's had to say that to in his life. 

he says nothing to this, but you clear your throat, looking at him, "um...thank you for your help. this morning, with the car- all of it." you say, smiling awkwardly, "i've had a hard time adjusting to a lot of recent...life changes and..." you feel like you're oversharing, so you stop short, "just. you've all been very kind to me." you finish. "i'm so thankful for this job." 

Joel watches you, gaze flickering between your eyes for a few moments before he nods, "'course, darlin'. life can throw some curveballs, huh?" he nudges your shoulder and as you sway back you can't help the soft smile that grows, hiding it as you look away. darlin'.  

"you're doing great, though. Sarah and I, we're glad to have you." he affirms. you smile into the metal of your car hood.

"let’s get your car started now, yeah?" he asks. 

you're sat in the driver's seat.

Joel leans through the window to hold down the switch on your steering wheel as you turn the keys, the small Tamagotchi on your keychain knocking against your wrist as he instructs you to pump the gas pedal. 

after a few tries the engine sputters to life; you let out a stuttered sigh of relief, smiling and letting out one small clap. 

Joel smiles, "there she is," he taps the dash above your steering wheel with the flat of his large palm, leaning slightly. as he turns to lean out the window, his eyes meet yours - face to face, he's much closer than either of you anticipated.

you're struck with the proximity; for a moment, his face is inches from yours. 

and then the moment stretches out, your heart skipping a beat - you can see the few freckles that have grown over the bridge of his strong nose, the way his breath leaves his lips, the smile lines and faint dimple, his eyelashes lit from the sun behind you. 

Joel clears his throat, stepping back from the window with a tap to the roof of your car. you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding.

"alright, you’re all set. just drive carefully, okay? let the engine run for a few minutes when you get home."

you nod, voice softer than you hoped it'd be, "I will. thanks again, Joel."

he nods in that way he always does, the same nod that you always see in Sarah. "be safe. see you tomorrow."

Joel leans against his truck as you peel away, off the side of the road and joining the sparse few cars on the road, the remaining rainwater slicking against tires in the distance. you swear you see him wave before he slips up into the cab of the truck, figure growing smaller in your rearview with each passing moment. 

you let the car run when you return to your apartment, biting your lip dumbly and staring down at your ruined phone, at the warped message that sits on your screen.

 

Call me if you need a ride in the morning- Sarah and I can pick you up. 

Have a good night. Joel

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:

there is no longer a taglist; follow @tremendumnotifs to be notified when i post.

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[johnwickb1tsch]

I demand when John met Helen (please?🥺)

Anything for you, my love! 😘😘😘

(this is an outline-ish thing from...last january? I don't know if ill ever truly write it out, so here's the whole caboodle)

warnings: violence, serious amts of shmoop

Helen goes to a rare book shop curious if they can fix the binding of her dog eared copy of Jane Eyre. They quote her an insane price. She has a meet cute with John in the shop. Maybe she's looking through the classics, trying to find a copy of Jane Eyre so she doesn't destroy her other one more. Maybe she tells him she can't afford to fix her copy. She brought it in to ask. He is sheepish about it, but he says he could fix it for her. “What would you charge?” 

“Nothing. It's a hobby for me. I do it for relaxation.” 

“Wow. Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. You'd be doing me a favor. I could use a new project.”

She cants her head, looking at him. Weighing him. He finds himself standing up a little straighter, hoping he'll make the cut. 

“Ok. But you at least have to let me buy you lunch.” 

“I would like that,” he admits. 

“Deal.” She holds out her hand to shake. He takes her small hand in his, and doesn't want to let go. 

So he fixes her book. 

They go to lunch. And when it's time to part ways, they don't really want to. They go for a walk. And keep talking. He shyly asks if he can take her to dinner. She agrees eagerly. They fall in love in the span of a week, or maybe just that one perfect day. 

They have a date set but John has to text her to say he's not feeling well. She offers to bring him soup. He says that sounds amazing, but he doesn't want her to see him like this. In truth, he was working, and things got out of hand. He's told her he works in security. But she is not prepared for how he looks. 

Black eye. Cuts on his face. Bruised ribs. Bruises everywhere, really. 

She worries that he's trying to break their date. Making up an excuse. He can hear it in her voice. Scared he’ll lose her, (and wanting badly to see her) he agrees to let her come over that night, not sure how it will go. 

He thinks about his Manhattan apartment. Expensive, modern, very few personal touches. He's afraid she'll hate it. 

When she comes over with takeout she is shocked, and teary eyed. Seeing him in pain like this hurts her. 

“Oh my god, John, what happened to you?” 

“Sometimes, my work gets a little...spicy?” 

Lol. She just looks at him. That look. 

“I'm guessing you can't actually tell me what happened.” 

With a sad smile he shakes his head. “I want to share everything I can with you,” he admits. “But some things, it's better you don't know.” 

She chews on her lip as he tells her this. He wonders if this will be their deal breaker. But in the end she nods. “Ok, John. I trust you.”

Hearing that makes him feel better than the pain pills he'd taken earlier. 

“We could...watch a movie?” he offers, thinking snuggling with her in his arms might fix him. 

“Okay.” 

He falls asleep halfway through, and she holds him, looking at his wounds. He looks so boyish and innocent in his sleep. She fights not to cry. 

To make up for ruining their date night he offers to cook her dinner. Afterwards they kiss, in front of the window, the lights of New York shining down below. He pulls her against him, squeezing her in his strong arms like he can't get enough of her. It steals her breath away, she wants him so much.

Later,  they're out and about. She hugs him under his suit jacket, feels a blocky shape at his back. “Are you...carrying a gun?” 

“Honestly, I'm usually carrying a gun,” he admits.

After the business that went sideways, he doesn't want to get caught unawares. He can tell she doesn’t like it, but trusts him enough to go along with it. 

“Ok…”

Something happens where she gets to see him in action. It's awesome... and scary, honestly. Maybe they're walking to his car when they're ambushed by five guys. The leader is like, “Evening, John.”

“This isn't a good time, Mickey.”

M looks between Helen and John with a leer. “No time like the present, I say.”

They fight, and John lays them all out. In the end he’s taken Micky’s gun and is about to shoot him in the face. It's instinct and reflex. Finish the job. But he hears a gasp behind him. Looks to see Helen looking terrified. So he disassembles the gun. Drops all the bullets into Mickey’s face before throwing the pieces at him. 

“Come on, sweetheart, let's go.” They drive away. She is in shock. 

Afterwards, they go park somewhere with a view of the city below. She is only looking at him though. “I scared you,” he says. It's not really a question. 

“Yes and no,” she answers honestly. “I don't believe you would ever hurt me.” 

“Good. It's the truth.” 

“But I…” She trails off.

“It's OK,” he sighs, feeling so tired inside. “You can say it.” 

“I'm not sure I really believe your job is legal, John.” 

He sighs and looks at the steering wheel. “You... might be right about that.” 

She nods. His heart is in his throat. This is it. This is how he loses her, he's convinced. And she has every right to leave. He never had any business pursuing her in the first place, but…it feels like dying. 

He waits for the axe to fall, his eyes squeezed closed. 

“I don't know how to reconcile the man I saw today, and the man I know who repairs books, and cooks me gourmet dinners, and takes me on long walks while holding my hand.” 

John rests his forehead on his steepled fingers. “I’ve...never really had a choice. I was trained from childhood, to do what I do, for very bad people. It doesn't excuse me...but it is what it is. Maybe I enjoyed it, once. I am not a good man. But now…” He looks at her, with the look of a drowning man. “I would give anything, just to have you.” 

There are tears in her eyes too, he realizes. 

“Do you have to do it, forever?” she asks. “Is there no way out?” 

He shakes his head, to himself as much as her. “It's very rare,” he tells her. “And very difficult.”

She nods, and moves closer. “Will you hold me?” 

“Always.” 

He pulls her in close, thinking he could die happy like this, with her in his arms. 

Later, he asks point blank. He has to know, he can't contain it. “Are you leaving me, Helen?”

He's so certain the answer is yes. She'll try to let him down softly. I'm not sure I can do this. It's not you, it's me. 

He can hardly believe his ears when she answers, “You're not getting rid of me that easily, John Wick.”

He's not sure if the sound he makes is a laugh or a sob. He kisses her, desperate for the affirmation of her love, hardly able to believe his luck. He feels like his heart might explode, for all the love he feels for this woman. 

“I love you so fucking much,” he growls as he kisses her like he might devour her. 

Likewise, she tells him with tears in her eyes and her fingers in his hair. “Don't stop kissing me.” 

“Never,” he tells her. 

The next week he finds himself buying a ring. 

And the week after that, he finds himself bargaining with Viggo Tarasov, his freedom in exchange for slaughtering all of the boss’s rivals in one mad night of mayhem. 

If anyone can do it, it’s John Wick.

[sweet-potato-42]

Now that weve been discussing the past acts of Forever where he did some horrible shit I thought we could try and help victims of the same type of shit he did before.

I found 2 charities that seem reliable enough that help victims of sexual assault. they are global(ish). i tried my best to find some in brazil but i struggled with confirming they are reliable (don't speak Portuguese lol) or having donation methods that people worldwide could use. Both of these use Pay Pal which is available in most of the world

EVEN IF YOU CANT GIVE MONEY TRY TO SPREAD AWARENESS SO THAT IT CAN REACH PEOPLE WHO CAN AFFORD TO DONATE. EVEN A SMALL AMOUNT CAN HELP

First one is Take Back The Night which helps victims of sexual assault and tackle the issue in general. they don't work in brazil unfortunately. they are currently focusing on expanding to working in Kenya. They do explicitly say near the top of the front page say how LGBTQIA+ people are likelier to experience sexual assault. Their donation page says where the money goes. The second one is ECPAT which focuses on tackling the issue of child sexual exploitation. They do work in brazil but it doesn't seem to be very active there. They do specify one of the things they are tackling is the exploitation of children online. Their donation page does specify where the money goes.

[feathersketchcreations]

audio drama announcement

Very soon here I'm going to be looking for helluva boss voice actors who may be comfortable partaking in an audio drama based off an au called the ‘Remiverse ‘

The Audio Drama will be called Shifting Fate and it will explain a lot of things Regarding why stolas isn't involved anymore and how Remi and Blitz met and fell for one another Etc

for those who don't know me, hi my name is Heather or feather sketch Creations on YouTube.

I do a lot of animated content revolving around ocx Canon character content.

Blitz has been a character that I have been connected to since day one. the more episodes drop the more I feel very connected to him hence why I ship oc x blitz.

the reason why I want to bring out an audio drama is because I've always wanted to tell the story on how Remy and Blitz meant and a lot of my fans have been wondering the same thing.

as much as I would love to animate this, I don't have time due to directing my Indie show Elementals of Tsikiri.

so I figured an audio drama would be the next best thing.

If this is something that might interest you, be on the lookout for auditions opening

However, please note this is a volunteer work only as I cannot afford to pay everyone.

so only audition if you're absolutely sure you want to do something like this.

if you're not comfortable with ocx Cannon content that's perfectly fine! you don't have to audition.

through this Audio Drama you will be able to find out answers to the following questions:

what happened to stolitz in this au?

why is Loona never present in this AU?

how did Remy meet Blitz?

how do they fall in love?

what part of hell of a boss does this take place in?

why in the world do they cause a widespread extermination to happen? ( that's correct this Au actually has helluva boss and hazbin Hotel characters in it!)

Little bit of a spoiler alert!

I will say that this Audio Drama takes place after the events of Ozzy's and queen bees episode. anything in season 2 that happens canonically does not happen in the remiverse. OR hasn't happened… yet

so anything that happens in this Audio Drama should not be taken as continuity errors but as an alternate universe.

the characters I already have voices for:

Blitz

Millie

Moxie

Loona

Angel Dust

characters we will need voices for:

Fizzarolli

Asmodius

Verosica

Stolas

Collin

Cletus

Keenie

Agent 1

Agent 2

Charlie morning star

Vaggie

Nifty

Serpentious (Here in the remiverse punches hasn't died yet!)

Husker

Angel dust

Lucifer

Alastor

Vox

Adam

Lute.

And various ocs and background characters as well (cant voice all my ocs it'll sound weird lol)

(More comingsoon!)

Please stay tuned and subscribe to my youtube FeatherSketchCreations so you don’t miss Casting calls!!

#helluvaboss #helluvabossoc #helluvabossfanart #helluvabossva #hazbinhotel #hazbinhoteloc #hazbinhotelfanart #hazbinhotelva

[freebooter4ever]

I've been doing my best to stay up to date on the boots brainfog fatigue lore for a while and I have two things to say. First, I am so glad the antibiotics are working and helping you and you're able to somewhat pause your symptoms. And second, your story is so terrifying I had no idea anything like this could happen and I hope the saga ends soon with you going back to a normal livable life.

Apologies for the slow reply, it took me a while to come to grips with my story being used as a 'lore' example. Legit i sometimes forget that i have a lot more followers than just the ones who talk to me on a regular / semi regular basis. So thank you to anyone who is quietly watching this painful illness play out and rooting for me <3 i hope it ends up being a happy ending, though my depression right now is being a witch and telling me it wont. As i type right now my eyes are doing the '300 times more effort to focus' thing because i ate dinner an hr ago, and im slowly getting used to putting this much work into something as simple as writing but...gosh this is all exhausting.

I didnt know this could happen either, but i cherish all the friends and strangers who have gone through this or are going through this who immediately reached out to support me. I've met one guy in person who was a casual friend until now, but who is becoming one of the few people i can randomly text depressing symptoms to and just know he at least semi understands. He also promised to take me on his motorcycle the minute i get back into a physically stable condition so i at least have a carrot on a stick at the moment.

I have also had a lot of really really enlightening conversations with my grandma who has MS, and she's told me stuff about her own illness that I don't think she ever would have divulged to me if this hadn't happened. And I now almost understand why. I can't tell you how frustrating it is to complain about a symptom and then have a friend or loved one immediately counter with 'oh, i have that!' and then go into detail about how they handle it when their symptom is obviously fleeting and passing and much less intense. Also, there's certain people in my life who i just cant get to understand how this illness is connected to food. Every time their response is 'I'm sorry you feel bad, let me make you something to eat' and i have given up trying to explain, lol.

I think it's also important for me to note that although my blog has seen a lot of this drama that i shared...the WORST parts of it i have not posted because i simply dont know how to process or talk about it yet. And also most of the worst moments happened while with my friend G, and when I'm at their house I tend to not need social media so much.

The funniest part in all this - it took a month for me to become so terrified of food because of the intense pain/reactions after eating, that I don't miss food at all despite my diet being severely limited. I miss peanut butter, although my reaction to peanut butter is not so bad that i can't eat it sometimes (but not daily like i used to). Strangely enough, I don't miss bread at all, except I do miss the easy convenient calories bread provided so I could run/dance/exercise. There is only one thing I have been craving this entire month....this fucker from 85c:

I have dreams about this guy. I vividly remember the taste and texture and how it felt to bite into one. The joy of snacking on one in the California sun under the arroyo trees. I long to be able to eat it again ;_; But with how little food I've been able to eat, I can't afford to waste calories on anything that isn't packed with nutrition so :( no taro bun.