#when I think about my anxiety it gets worse

[aniamra]

Depending on your repertoire with a person, I agree, announcing your intent genuinely does help.

To add to your good points OP, some advice for others from my own experience: phrasing and approach can go a long way toward making it a constructive conversation and not just an 'attack'.

Gentle nudges in the right direction are good for people potentially perpetuating misconceptions or stereotypes but aren't really entrenched in it. Providing different, even contradictory perspectives in a thoughtful way can foster empathy and humanization.

I try to pose questions a lot because it makes people think about their actions and is less likely to be perceived as an attack.

Also, knowing when to shelve a difficult topic to let it absorb is a difficult but important skill to learn. Sometimes stuff doesn't sink in the first time; confrontation panic and brain locking can halt a topic and prevent constructive conversation to which trying to brute force doesn't help. Often when given space they can return to the topic with a much more constructive perspective and you can get into greater complexities of the topic much more easily. It can sometimes feel like you're letting it slide or giving up when it comes to more pressing topics, but it's worth it.

It also helps to not assume the worst of the other before getting into it. (something people are more likely to need to remind themselves when dealing with those they might not be friends with)

Confrontation doesn't have to be antagonistic, it's about providing another perspective that the other might not have encountered or correcting misinformation telephone, and giving the grace necessary for the other to absorb it. I believe on the whole people really do want to understand one another.

(and I'm speaking as someone with social anxiety who gets huge anxiety spikes with confrontation. I am no stranger to confrontation anxiety, believe me. I do it because I know I have to because it will be worse if I let it sit and do nothing

im not gonna sit here and say "if youre conflict averse youre a huge pussy fuck you" because i recognize generally people avoid conflict because of fear, anxiety, and past negative experiences - but i really would encourage people to start learning how to call their friends out on things without it being some horrible, drama-starting, friendship-ending ordeal. anyone who is friends with me will tell you i have an ability to swiftly correct or point out something somebody has said as being bigoted, hurtful, or incorrect - and they will also tell you i do not hold a grudge nor do i make the exchange hostile or accusatory! it's a skill, sure, but it's genuinely a much easier skill than i think a lot of people realize. but i think it's one of, if not the most, important interpersonal skill anyone can ever have.

[chaotic-mystery]

Code Red | Chapter Twelve: Eyes Like Fire

Joel miller x f!oc (told in 2nd POV)

Summary: After Janet finds out about you and Joel, it's finally time to tell Sarah. Can she handle knowing you've been with her dad for over a year?

Content Warnings: 18+ ONLY MDNI. Enemies to lovers, dads best friend Joel, age gap (readers in her twenties and Joel is in his forties), slow burn, written in 2nd POV, no use of y/n, broken father/daughter relationship, daddy issues, dd/lg relationship dynamic, toxic dynamic between reader and stepmom, name calling, slut shaming,shitty perceptions of reader from dad, physical fight, blood mentioned, a nice morning fuck ruined very quickly by arguing, strong language, choking, p in v, fingering, creampie, kitchen sex, hair pulling.

Authors Note: It's here and so am I. I hope you find comfort in knowing Joel Miller would never let your shitty dad be horrible and would knock his teeth out over you <3 that's all. love you.

|| wc: 5.9k and unbeta'd af || series masterlist || main masterlist || divider by me ||

The music didn’t seem nearly as loud as it did when you first got here. The anxiety washes over your body as you look at the pink camera in your hands, the photo staring right back.

Shit. Shit. Shit!

Your mouth feels dry as it falls slightly open, your watery eyes scanning over everyone before falling onto Joel. 

“I can explain…” 

But you couldn’t. Nothing was coming out. Not a single idea or excuse was coming to mind. Not a fucking thing. 

Janet scoffs and crosses her arms over the ugly floral top she had on. 

“I would just love to hear the excuses you try to feed us this time. Go on, tell everyone how you seduced your fathers best friend and took him from another woman.” Her fake smile only boiled your blood more. 

Joel looks like a deer in headlights, caught between saying something and making it worse or staying silent. 

“I didn’t seduce him and take him from anybody. It just happened.” The crack in your voice from pleading was fueling your anger in the situation. It felt like high school all over again, being humiliated in front of a crowd for someone else's amusement. 

Janet parts the crowd of bodies even wider as she gets closer, just a few feet apart now. 

“Does he even know you slept with his brother? You just can’t help yourself can you? Is this why you came back to Texas, to be a little harlot and sleep with everyone and, in this case, their brother?” 

“I didn’t sleep with his brother you dumb bitch! What, are you jealous I had him in my hand like putty the night I got here and you could never get him in bed with you?” 

Only now did your dad feel like it was time to say what he wanted. Storming over to you closer than Janet was, he didn’t blink as he made himself very clear.

“Don’t you call her a bitch! You will respect her! I didn’t raise you to be that way.” 

It shouldn’t be so surprising your dad just let her get away with calling you almost every name besides the word slut. Doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt just the same if not more. 

Your head hangs as you feel defeated. Nothing was ever going to change, never. He was too far gone to realize the damage he’s done and he won’t go back now. He’d rather die a coward than try to make amends.

“You raised me? Where were you when I had my final piano recital? Did you take me to any of my doctors appointments? Did you call me on my birthdays? Did you ever have any clothes for me at your house the few summers I came to stay with you? Where were you, Dad? You’re lying to yourself if you think you raised me.”

Groaning as he throws his hands in the air, your dad shakes his head and mutters under his breath a slew of profanities. 

“Here you go with the piano recital again. I was at work, my boss wouldn’t let me leave. You don’t get to make me feel bad about that. Just in case you weren’t aware, a phone works both ways.” 

Joel inches closer and closer until he’s behind you, showing you he’s not going anywhere, not now. He links his pointer finger with yours behind your back and just the small gesture from him makes the lump in your throat grow, feeling like a baseball now. 

“I was a kid…I am a kid. I will always be the kid in the story. I moved with mom and suddenly my siblings and I didn’t matter, not as much as Janet’s kids, right? I’m just supposed to watch you play house with someone else?”

“Their dad up and left town without a word, they needed a father-”

“I needed a father! I needed my father!” There it was. The thing that’s been killing you to say. It felt as if you threw up sewing needles and tar, nonetheless you managed to spit it out. 

“Well you can forget that now. You seduced my best friend, made him break up with his girlfriend, all for what? To get back at me? To punish me? I pity you if this was your way of needing my attention.” He steps closer and you immediately feel like the scared little girl sitting in the corner again, waiting for it to be over. You squeeze your eyes shut and turn your head to prepare for whatever may come and you feel your hand drop from covering your face, a presence standing in front of you. Like a fucked up version of a prince saving the damsel in distress, there Joel was, swooping in to save you in your most broken down state, shielding you from the big bad dragon licking its chops ready to tear you to pieces. 

“Alan. Think about the next thing you say to her or I will knock your fucking teeth down your throat.” 

Though you couldn’t see his face, you knew he had that look he was giving your dad, the same one he had the first time he saved you from those guys at the bar. 

“Joel you understand, don’t you? You have a daughter.” 

“I do, but I would never in a million years treat her the way you treat yours. Since the day she got here, you put her in my care. Mine-” He pauses to gather himself, the anger about to make him explode. 

“You don’t deserve a daughter like her. You don’t deserve her period. Neither of you assholes do” Joel states harshly before grabbing your hand, leading you back inside to leave. 

“Whatever Joel, you’ll see why she runs away when shit gets tough. She can’t handle it, she’s a scared little bitc-“ 

The crowd of people gasp before you look down and see Janet bent over with her hand cupping her jaw, yelling in pain, blood pouring from her mouth. Your fist was gaining feeling in it before you realized you hit her. 

You hit Janet. 

Joel’s eyes go big and he grabs you once more before getting you out of there as fast as he could, trying to spare you from anything your dad was shouting as he helped Janet to her feet. 

He opens the driver's side door and tosses your purse inside on the passenger seat before stepping aside to let you in. “I’ll meet you at home. Go on, be safe. I’m right behind you, baby. Right behind you.” 

You start your car and pull off quickly, Joel’s truck tailing you closely.. The radio was blasting your Deftones CD from earlier, Hole In the Earth just making the tears fall right out of your eyes. Digging in your purse to grab a cigarette, you light the end of it before taking a deep inhale, your mind already replaying what happened. 

It all happened so fast. One minute you were with Joel and having a decent time and then before you knew it, you were looking down at your bloody knuckles wrapped around your steering wheel. You pull into Joel's driveway and turn your car off, the cigarette just about finished when he comes to your car door and opens it. 

“Come on, baby. Let’s go inside.”

”Joel what did I do? Genuinely…what did I do?” The mascara that once coated your eyelashes only hours ago was now staining your cheeks, creating streaks down your neck. 

He squats down and you hear his knees crack, muffled by his jeans.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, sweetheart. One day he’ll see the damage he’s caused but by then it’ll be too late. Sometimes the hardest way to heal ourselves is to let go of the people we want to keep close, even if that hurts more.” 

Joel doesn’t say anything more as he lets you mince over his words that he only hopes to help you in some way. Getting out of the car, you walk to his front door with the keys tucked between your fingers as if you were Wolverine ready to attack someone or something. 

“Do you still have that sandbag in the garage?” 

“Y-yeah, it’s over in the corner.” 

He walks you through the house to the garage and flips the light on, pointing to the red colored sack right in the corner where he said it was. 

You take off the copious amount of rings scattered across your fingers and put them in his hand before making your way to the sandbag, throwing your tightly closed fist back before it makes contact with the plastic covering of the bag. 

Over and over, you hit the bag to release all the anger and frustration you harbor inside your body, a guttural scream clawing out of your throat to echo off the walls. All the bullshit your dad and Janet have said to you over the last year circling your brain, only causing your screams to get louder. At this moment, you didn’t care what Joel thought about any of this. You didn’t care how you looked in his eyes. You needed this for you and unfortunately Joel’s sandbag was the temporary solution. 

Feeling your knees get weaker with every punch becoming softer than the last, you fall to the floor and soon enough Joel comes behind you, rubbing your back and unsure of what to say. Joel picks you up off the floor and takes you inside to the bathroom, leaning you against the sink as he drowns your knuckles in peroxide to clean them thoroughly. 

“Don’t ever let someone get leverage over your emotions again, understand?” Joel didn’t sound angry or as if he was giving you a lecture, it was more like a lesson for next time and he was right. Janet got under your skin, exactly what she wanted. She wanted your dad to see you in a worse light than he already did. She wanted you to lose your cool. 

You stare at the floor still feeling uneasy and raging inside but once more you tuck away the ugly part of you and start to plan. 

-

“So you clocked her?” Tommy laughs and shovels eggs into his mouth and you look up at him from under your hood, grinning at how impressed he was until Joel shook his head. 

“Tommy…stop.” 

Your grins drop at the serious tone from Joel. 

“What, man? I’m just sayin’ I’m glad someone finally hit that bitch, she’s insane. Very proud of you, kid.” Tommy holds out for a fist bump and you drop your fork to meet him halfway. 

“I don’t think hitting her is something we need to be bumpin’ fists over. This shit is nowhere near over, you do know that? For all of us? I knew I should’ve moved to the fuckin’ mountains when I had the chance.” 

Your brows furrow slightly as you swallow dryly, Tommy trying to lighten the mood after Joel’s grumpy testament. 

“Aren’t you glad you stuck around though?” Tommy smiles and bites off more than he can handle of his pancakes. 

Waving your hand to dismiss Joel’s attitude, you turn to face him more and put a hand on his shoulder. 

“He’s not going to do anything, okay? Most that’ll come out of this is that he’ll never speak to me again which I don’t mind. He’ll forgive you because somehow that makes sense in his brain, and Janet will continue being a hateful cunt. We’ll be fine, baby. Promise.”

You hold your pinky out for Joel to hook his around and squeeze but he continues to shove a cut piece of potato in his mouth. He could never say no to those puppy dog eyes you make when you wanted to get your way with him. 

“Such a brat, you know that?” He huffs and tucks his chubby pinky around yours, holding tightly before pulling you close for a gentle kiss, when you hear the beginning guitar strums playing over the diner speakers above your head. You wrap your arms around Joel’s bicep and lean your head on him, looking out the window to your left as the sunlight pokes through the blue gingham curtains.

Graceless lady, you know who I am

You know I can't let you slide through my hands

Wild horses couldn't drag me away

Wild horses couldn't drag me away

Humming the melody softly while Joel and Tommy talk and finish their food, your mind begins to race with ideas and maybe solutions to this issue. What if you left Texas? Find somewhere new to start over and get away from your dad for good. It wasn’t a total mistake moving back here because had you not, you would’ve never met Joel. There was too much wrapped into this now and running was the coward's way out. Texas was big enough for the both of you to be here, right?

-

Filling your lungs with a big breath, you open Joel’s front door to see him and Sarah in the kitchen getting dinner ready to be served. You’d be lying if you said your heart wasn’t beating in your throat, scared of how you were going to tell her you’d been seeing her dad for the last year, sneaking around like a pair of teenagers. Figured you shouldn’t smoke a cigarette before this, good impressions and all that shit. The breakfast from earlier was long gone by this point and you were too anxious to feel hungry.

“I didn’t know you were coming! Love the dress by the way, very you” Sarah says kindly, giving you a smile that somewhat resembles Joel’s.

“Thank god, I was wondering if it went with my boots or not.” You bend your leg behind you to show her your black boots, earning a nod from her for your outfit. So far so good. 

You finally look at Joel and see him leaned against the kitchen sink with his arms crossed over his chest, silently taking in the small interaction between you two. Your breath catches and your nerves ramp up just seeing him in his black t-shirt with the daintiest gold chain hanging from his neck. 

“Anything I can help with?” You ask and set your phone on the counter with your purse tucked away on the stool by the countertop. 

“If you wanna carry the salad to the table, that’d be good. Dad can carry the rest” Sarah chimes in and hurriedly grabs the plates with the silverware banging against the top, rushing you into the dining room so Joel’s left to handle the main course. 

You set the wooden bowl down off center of the table, leaving enough room for Joel to empty his hands and Sarah walks in circles as she arranges each place setting. 

“Baby, can you sit in my seat this time, please?” Joel asks as he points Sarah into the chair he’s talking about, meaning he wants each of you to be on either side of her when you tell her. 

Thanks, Joel. 

She looks at him confused and plops down in the seat, not understanding yet. 

“Why are you being so weird today, Dad?”

You take another deep breath and look at Joel before he sits down and looks at Sarah.

“Well, there’s something I wanna talk to you about and I want you to be honest how it makes you feel, alright?” His tongue pokes out from behind his teeth and grazes over his lips, his arms moving slightly indicating he was rubbing his hands together anxiously under the table.

She nods and you sit down in the chair next to her, sitting straight as a board, almost scared to make a move.

“I’ve been seeing someone for a little over a year now and I wanted to be sure about it before I told you. I know it’s been you and I for as long as you can remember and I feel like we’re in a good enough place to share it with you, sweetheart.” Joel extends his hand across the table and wiggles his fingers, wanting you to hold his hand. 

Sarah immediately looks at you, taking in every square inch of you, sizing you up as she’s processing the news. It was almost too painful to breathe, like you were under a microscope being examined for everything. Your dress was suddenly too tight, your sock was slouching down from your boot yanking on it, everything was too much. 

“It’s about time you told me.” The smirk on her face was the needle you needed to burst your anxiety balloon sitting inside your chest.

Joel’s head drops for a few seconds and it’s upright again, eyes fixed on his daughter.

“Sarah Miller, what the hell are you talking about?” 

“First, swear jar. Second, I found her picture in your room the other day when I was looking for some lunch money.”

Your brows furrow and his face turns red.

“Picture? What picture?” you chime in, confused about what she’s talking about. 

“I dunno, you’re holding some cake with peeps on it.” 

Your mind swirls around for what feels like forever as you try to recall when he took that photo from your dads house. How did he go this long without you realizing he had it? It almost brings a tear to your eye to know how loved you truly are by Joel, the fact he’d steal that in the off chance he’d get caught. 

“I know the one. How do you feel about all this, Sarah?” 

She looks between the pair of you and shrugs, toying with her cup in front of her plate.

“I don’t know, I guess it’s weird in a way. I mean, it’s really only been my dad and I so it’ll take some time getting used to it but I like you and I think you’re really good for him. I mean, between us two, he stopped wearing socks with holes in them, so I think you’re influencing him well.” 

Joel purses his lips and gives Sarah an unamused look. 

You two burst out laughing at him and he lets go of your hand to start passing around dinner. 

“Alright, I can see how this is gonna be. Already getting ganged up on by my girls.” 

It was comforting knowing she was okay with you being with him. Every place in your life you felt like you didn’t belong, like you were a ghost floating around to find your purpose or the one little sliver of the universe that’s yours. 

Who knew it would be at the Millers house back in the one state you tried to run from for so long? 

“And Sarah-“ Joel swallows his bite of food before continuing, “stop going in my room when I’m not home.” 

-

The clock on the microwave showed fifteen minutes before midnight and Sarah was passed out in her bed upstairs, Joel tucked away on his couch with his arms crossed over his chest. 

“Baby..? Are you asleep?” 

He doesn’t move and you sit up more to see his eyes closed, head down slightly.

“Joel” you whisper and softly nudge him awake, “cmon, let’s go to bed.” 

“I wasn’t asleep, I was watching TV. I’m not even tired” he says in a groggy voice trying to put on an act.

“Yeah right, I highly doubt you know what Mike Rowe is doing on Dirty Jobs. Let’s go, chief.” 

You hold out your hand to help him up and he follows you upstairs across the hall from Sarah’s room, the streetlight cascading in behind her purple curtains. 

Joel shuts the white painted door behind him and locks it, immediately shedding out of his clothes down to his underwear. Looking around you scratch your head and debate going back home for a moment just to grab pajamas, not that there’s anything wrong with borrowing Joel’s clothes, you’d just rather not sleep like Pooh bear the first night with a full house. 

“Gotcha something on my way home, go look in the bathroom.” 

You turn on your heel to look at him curiously and slowly make your way into his en suite bathroom, noticing the new pair of pajamas folded nicely on the sink in your favorite color. 

The buttery smooth satin under your fingertips makes you smile at the thoughtful gesture of him buying these for you, knowing you can’t resist a good pj set. 

“You mind if I shower, actually?” you poke your head out from the bathroom and see Joel in bed with the TV on and he meets your gaze, shaking his head no and giving you a smile. 

“Do whatever you want, baby. Whatever makes you feel at home.” 

And you did just that. The extra hot water ran over your skin as you washed yourself clean, soaking in the day and everything that’s come from it. It would be over in just a few short minutes and a new day would start but this one would stick with you for a while. 

When you get out of the shower and get dressed, you open the bathroom door and the cool air hits your damp skin. Soft snores come from Joel asleep in his bed, laying on his tummy facing your direction. 

“Yeah, not tired my ass.” 

You climb in bed next to him as if you’d wake him up with one move but realistically it wouldn’t faze him one bit. Getting adjusted, you listen to the TV as you look out his bedroom window, mind too busy to sleep. The train going over the tracks in the distance blows its horn, Joel stirring in his sleep to pull you against his chest tightly. 

-

Waking up the next morning in Joel’s bed, face down and tangled in his sheets, you feel the emptiness beside you and yawn tiredly as you sit up, looking around his room in the daylight. 

It was cozy, not nearly as messy as yours, but cozy. Photos of him and Sarah tacked to the walls with push pins, random piles of loose change on his dresser, his watch resting on top of a small stack of books, everything seeming to have a place. 

You walk softly down the stairs, carefully trying to see where everyone’s at. Small flips of pages come from the kitchen and you find Joel’s back facing you, the steam from his coffee rising over his shoulder before disappearing in air. 

He sighs in relief when you lean against him and kiss his neck tenderly, wrapping your right arm around his front, keeping him as close as you can. 

“Morning sweetheart. Saved you some coffee if you want it.” 

“Where’s Sarah?” You ask, biting his neck before releasing him from your hold and sitting next to him in the wooden chair. 

“She and Tommy went to the mall so she can hang out with her friends. She says i'm too embarrassing to chaperone them or somethin’ like that.” 

You toy with your cigarette box and debate going outside to have a smoke out on the back patio. 

“Baby I love you, but I one hundred percent understand why she wouldn’t want her dad coming with to the mall. It’s a teenage thing, ya know? I was like that with my mother.”

He rubs his sock covered foot against your leg tenderly, “Yeah you’re right. I didn’t want to go anyway to tell you the truth. Tommy can be responsible for a bunch of teenagers for a day.”

Giggling at the fake amusement in his voice, you walk to the cupboard and pour yourself some coffee and turn around, feeling a set of eyes burning into your head.

‘Why are you staring at me, weirdo?” The hot liquid coats your throat and it feels nice, the itch of wanting that cigarette dying a little. 

Joel gets up from the chair and plants himself in front of you, lips attacking your neck before giving you time to react. 

“What’s the matter, I can’t look at my girlfriend? hm?” he inquires playfully, not really expecting you to answer.

The once sweet kisses turn rough and he pins your arms above your head against the light stained wood, digging into your skin firmly with each breath he steals between kisses. You moan softly and inch closer to him until your fronts are sandwiched together, begging for a little bit of friction. If you could get paid to stay home with him and fuck his brains out, you’d be a billionaire by now.

“Not when you stare, no’’ you breathlessly reply.

“Too bad, you’re fucking beautiful so I’m gonna stare.” His freehand comes up to the crown of your head and grabs firmly on a chunk of your hair, as close to the root as he can, just to give a reassuring pull that he was there and he meant every word he was saying. 

You lock your ankles together around his body and start grinding against the semi soft bulge in his pants, the head of his cock nudging your clit that was already throbbing. 

“Right here in the kitchen? That's where you want it, sweet girl?” 

Joel wraps his bulky arms around you tightly, so desperate to feel your body on his. Quickly taking the opportunity, you slip your pants and panties down to your ankles, looking at his dark brown eyes as you rest your head against the cupboard, letting his hands roam all over your body, admiring as if you were the most beautiful piece of art he’d ever seen.

“Look at me when you slip it in, okay? I wanna see you go to heaven.” 

A devious smile grows on his face and he puts his middle and ring finger in your mouth, pushing against your tongue to make you close around him, getting his fingers coated with saliva. Like two magnets finding their way again, you feel those same fingers that were in your mouth now on your clit, the arousal being added to the mix. 

“You are so goddamn beautiful. An absolute angel. Look at me baby, right here, okay? Look at me.” 

Joel smacks the head on your aching cunt before dipping inside, your eyebrows furrowing in pleasure, so confused how sex could feel so good, so addicting.

“Oh my fucking god, Joel. Go slow, go slow” you pant, rubbing his sides as a guide for him like he needed it. 

“You’re taking it so well, sweetheart. So wet for me too, that’s it. Come here” he says before kissing you deep, tongue immediately pushing its way into your mouth to touch yours. His entire cock was inside you and pumping slowly at first, gaining speed with each kiss shared.

As soon as he kissed you like that, you knew you wouldn’t be able to handle much. Something about him fucking you so deep and slow and kissing you so sloppy made your head spin and your knees turn to jelly. You whine his name on his lips, nails digging into his back the harder he pressed into you. 

“Just like that, baby. Fuck me just like that-fuck-like that.” Your breathing matches each other and his hand digs into your hip, pinning you right in your spot so you couldn’t run from the fucking you were getting.

“Yeah you like that, honey? I know I know I know-” he coos teasingly before continuing between groans, “I know you like when I fuck you hard. What if I put my hand right here and squeeze, that turns you on more when daddy chokes you?” Joel’s hand wraps firmly around your neck and applies light pressure while he continues to thrust harder inside. 

Your broken moans serve as an answer to him which in return makes him moan louder, driving him crazy knowing how much power he has over you when you’re like this. The way you give yourself up to him and give him control, the trust being so apparent, quite frankly it could make him come just thinking about it.

His thick fingers find their way to your clit, rubbing tight circles to keep you whining for more. It was like you were drowning but you didn’t mind, you wanted more pressure in your lungs, you needed it. Pressing your damp forehead to his and feeling both hands on your hips now, you try to tell him you were going to come but he shoves his fingers in your mouth, gagging you to silence.

“Come with me baby, give it to me. Give me all of it, right now. Be good for daddy and come with me” he whispers, pressing lazy kisses to your temple while you shatter on his arms, crying out his name as you shake and buck your hips from the overwhelming ecstasy taking over your body.

Joel gives a few more thrusts and you feel him pulsing inside you as he comes, grabbing a fistful of your hair once more to give a squeeze as he fills you up. You kiss him deeply again, your lips muffling his swears and grunts of your name, the two of you trying to calm down and bask in the moment as much as you could. 

Just as you break apart and look at him, his phone rings.

At least they waited until after you got fucked.

Joel shuffles to the table as he pulls his underwear up and looks at the screen, hesitating to answer. 

“What do you want?” 

Seconds go by without Joel saying a word and you still are clueless as to who it is. Hopping off the counter carefully and getting dressed once more, you walk over and wrap yourself in his arm with your head resting on his chest, the steady thumps of his heart calming you like a lullaby. 

“I don’t think it’s a good time for you to come over right now, she’s not in the mood and neither am I to be frank.”

Bashfully looking at him, you start to worry who it is.

“Fine, you can talk to me but you aren’t saying a word to her, that’s the deal. Take it or leave it Alan.”

Now it starts to make sense. 

Joel tosses the phone back on the table after hanging up and sighs in frustration.

“He wants to come talk to you?” 

“I guess, not sure what about but I’ll entertain this idea he has. I won’t let him go near you, okay? I promise.”

He brushes his thumb over your bottom lip softly as you nod and pats your ass to get this shitshow moving along.

“Just stay in my room and don’t come out until I get you. It’ll be fine. I’m not above hitting anyone over you.”

 Glaring at him humorless and turning on your heel, you head upstairs and stop halfway, taking Joel’s bait.

“But when I hit someone it’s not okay?” you ask a little more sarcastically than you wanted. You stop at the top of the stairs and cross your arms, giving him a side eye. 

“I just didn’t have any bail money on me, baby.” The shit eating grin on his face just irritates you more and you want to wipe it right off. 

Stomping your feet the rest of the way to his room and slamming the door behind you, you flop onto his bed and groan loudly into the pillows. It was clearly no surprise you were upset with your dad once again ruining another day for you and Joel, it was almost more shocking when he left you alone for more than twenty-four hours.

-

“I just don’t know what you expect from me Alan! I’ve stuck by you for years and never once did you tell me about her. You’re embarrassed of her and everything she is, admit it.”

The raised voices wake you up from the small nap you apparently took and your body starts to get that feeling. You know, the one where you shiver uncontrollably even though you aren’t cold and nothing makes sense, nothing feels safe. You get out of his bed and manipulate the door handle just right to open silently so you can sneak out and listen over the railing of the stairs. 

“I’m not embarrassed by her, she’s my kid. Mine. I don’t agree with everything she’s done and how she’s lived, but she’s my blood.” His words make you sick as he always says the same shit he always did. Blood wasn’t starting to hold much weight to you anymore. 

“She’s your flesh and blood but you sit there with your wife and tear her down until she’s nothing but a shell of herself. You dim her light to satisfy that guilty feeling of not being present. She came here to start over, to fix any last shred of a relationship she could have with you and you fucked it up.”

The room falls silent and you don’t move a muscle, afraid someone would hear you and know you were eavesdropping. 

“I didn’t fuck this up. She did; by getting with you. She lied to you and brought you to my ex who’s even better at manipulating people, and now you’re brainwashed just like them. She never called me when she was living with her mother and a phone works both ways. I’ve always tried to teach her that, Joel. She’s hardheaded and she’s selfish. Do you know how much money I’ve spent on her since she was born? She never went to college, she doesn’t talk to her sister, probably because she’s jealous of the life she created for herself and her kids. She’s just lost right now and buddy, I’d hate to see you get hurt because of her. She’s a child.”

Your stomach was turning and you at some point covered your mouth with your hand to silence your crying. Joel's boots shuffle on the floor and you hear a door, probably the one leading outside the house. 

“Get out. Now. She’s better off without you, she won’t lose sleep over not having whatever this was you were trying to be for her. Don’t contact her again and don’t come around here badmouthing her in front of me unless you have a serious wish to spend a couple nights in the hospital. We’re done. Now, get the fuck out of my house.” Joel’s tone was something you’ve never heard before, it was kind of scary if you were being honest.

Your dad scoffs and you can hear more shuffling. “Listen-”

“NOW!” Joel yells.

Flinching at the sudden outburst of anger, your heart rattles inside your chest as it did when your parents used to fight when you were younger.

You sit on the landing and place your feet on the stairs below it, in disbelief at what you just heard.

He slams the front door shut and curses loudly before walking to the stairs and stopping as soon as he sees you sitting there silently. Joel runs a hand through his hair and over his face before moseying up and sitting a few steps further from you, his arm draped over your lap. 

“You know I don’t believe anything he ever says, right?” 

“I know, I just don’t think I should stay here anymore.” You fiddle with your thumbs trying not to look at him.

“Baby I understand if you want some space and want to go back home, I’m not that far away.” His attempts at jokes are noted and appreciated but you couldn’t shake this feeling. 

“No, Joel. I mean Texas. I need to go.”

[vroombeams]

Hotbox please!

hey buddy wanna buy a wip

sooo back in november this post came up on my dash. the high anxiety dog crate post. you know the one. anyway it set off some wild brain avalanche that culminated in me writing a 4200 word carcar pwp one-shot? in which the Anxiety Crate is a semi-common if a bit archaic thing in a/b/o verse, like this crate that an omega can put themself in to keep alphas out if needed?? it's all very handwavey as a concept. the setting is that one time that mclaren hospitality was like on fire, ferrari lets oscar & lando come hang out in their hospitality and oscar finds one of these crates in which he decides to take a nap. because why not

anyway he falls asleep without closing the door fully and carlos wanders in and decides to cause problems. atp they're like in an established enemies-with-benefits sitch so it's not completely out of left field that this is happening but it's uhhh Particularly gross. featuring such classics as: carlos nutting in his underwear and then shoving them in the crate with oscar. carlos sticking also a knot training toy in the crate in there because he knows it will be horrifically unsatisfying. carlos just full on pissing on the crate with oscar still inside

anyway oscar ends up flung into a breakthrough heat and they fuck about it after oscar shoves the world's biggest knotting toy up his hoohah <3 it's gross i had fun with it i don't think it'll ever leave the docs HAHAHA

clip under the cut ->

It’s just that he can’t escape the smell of it. Carlos, Carlos’ underwear. Carlos’ come, that the omega part of him wants inside of him.

He jerks so hard his knee smacks loudly against the side of the box. He’s coming from this—from thinking about Carlos coming inside of him, from Carlos fucking him bare and knotting him and—

He groans. He dribbles, just a little, from the tip of cock onto his t-shirt. His insides clench feebly. 

It doesn’t take the edge off. Makes it worse, actually.

Carlos is laughing again and Oscar is pointedly trying to ignore it as he squirms around, trying to wriggle down his shorts without touching the underwear or pulling his fingers out of himself. The knotting aid bumps against his hip as he moves and it’s—it’s nothing, but it’s better than nothing, probably.

He pulls his fingers free and bites viciously down on his tongue against what wants to be a whimper. He clenches around nothing, already so desperate to be full that it’s devastating to not be. It’s so anticlimactic when he stuffs the toy inside. It’s barely bigger than three of his fingers, though it gets just a little bit deeper. The knot pops inside with exactly zero fanfare.

He ends up on his back, feet flat to the wall of the box. He’s panting, now, fucking himself with the training knot. It’s an embarrassment to knotting aids, he thinks, furiously rocking it in and out. It’s like getting fucked by another omega, just a slender cock, no knot, too easy to take for it to be satisfying.

[rhymeswithchronic]

Thought dumps about Parkour headcanons in Mercy for the Lamb. Send help

My favorite thing about writing Mercy for the Lamb is having a series focused entirely on the trauma of four entirely different people because I get to have fun playing with how different people react to their trauma

Foooor example, four people, four trauma responses :D

Evbo - Flight (running from his problems, refusing to admit he has trauma, leaving the second someone asks if he’s okay)

He’s not used to his trauma being considered as such. A lot of his trauma responses are painfully similar to things he had to do in the Noob layer to simply survive and he has it in his head that he can’t possibly be traumatized. Even if he is, obviously everyone else has it so much worse so he has no right to complain.

EMF - Fight (Acting snappy and harsh, actively thrashes/claws when someone touches him when he’s struggling)

In his position and job, he couldn’t afford to show any kind of weakness. When he perceives a threat, he has to take the offensive first before they can start an attack against him. Attack first, questions later: it’s the only way to ensure that you have the upper hand. When the world is against you, it’s you against the world.

Seawatt - Freeze (Going still and silent, disassociating, becoming extremely numb)

It’s the safest option. It’s the idea that if he doesn’t move, no one can see him. It’s the complete opposite of what a fighter is and that means it has to be unpredictable. Running or fighting the sources of his trauma is off the table. Nowhere to run and no one to fight. Instead, it all just piles up and collapses and he freezes.

Boey - Fawn (Trying to appease his perceived aggressors, promising to stay quiet/still, doing anything he can to stay in his aggressors good graces)

It didn’t always help, but a lot of his killers seemed to like it when he followed their demands. If he tried to ignore them or deliberately disobey them, they wouldn’t just kill him: they would make it *hurt*. He got used to suggesting things that might make his killers happier in the hope that it would make his death hurt less.

A few other things that I find fun that have no reason to be pointed out but I want to anyway:

They each react to anxiety in different ways. Seawatt paces, EMF chews his claws, Evbo tugs at his hair and Boey scratches his arms. Seawatt’s pacing is harmless and EMF normally doesn’t hurt himself by chewing, but they’ve gotten Boey used to wearing thick gloves to prevent his scratching habit from causing actual wounds. It’s still a regular habit for him to offer his arms to one of the others when he feels himself coming down due to how often they had to wrap them back in the day. Seawatt and EMF will hold Evbo’s hands to stop him from tugging at his hair. It’s less likely to harm him and the pressure helps.

In the most recent story, I talked a bit about how I headcanon Pre-Fighter Layer Banishment civilization to have looked, and mentioned that each layer was known for their own products.

Noobs - Clothing creation, repair, and modification. Since their boots were leather, I figured leather working would make a lot of sense for them. Leather and wool were most commonly used but it wasn’t uncommon for other layers to ask them to make special outfits for special occasions. Fighters specifically liked to send them silk and cotton to be made into their traditional outfits for battles and parties. They would create the boots for their young family members, continuously recreating them as the players aged.

Pros - Varieties of high quality food. This one I think speaks for itself since we know they supply food in-series, but I feel like before things got bad the food was more than just “cows that are good at parkour” and “cows that suck at parkour”. They were known for their spices and cooking techniques typically passed down by parents to children or new Pros, biologically related or otherwise.

Masters - Metalworking and jewelry. This headcanon is kind of based on a separate headcanon that Masters use jewelry as courting gifts. If someone wants to court another Master, they would gift them jewelry in their colors. For example, EMF would give gold jewelry to his partner. These could include things like chest plates but only as decoration. They would’ve been responsible for creating metal-based boots for naturally born players (other players spawn with their boots, no creation necessary).

Fighters - Music and Art. While art existed in all the layers, the fighters were known for their high energy musical selection and produced discs and the things used to play them. I like to think that the fact that the Legends were locked behind discs had a significance to the Fighters, being the last remnants of their culture after their fall. Their other forms of art were considered the best and most popular. They specialized in abstract art, focused more on emotion than anything else.

Players can spawn or be naturally born. For the most part, newly spawned players would be almost immediately adopted into a family and raised as one of their own assuming they were young enough. Those that were older would be shown the ways of life by the community, often building their own unique ideas and experiences through the entire community’s efforts. There definitely might have been some discrimination, but it wasn’t as common as Class bias would have been. This still very much existed if not as violently upheld as it became.

Fighters in particular were big on family. Players that ranked up or spawned in would be welcomed with open arms and integrated into family units.

Lastly

Boey will forever be autistic. In my heart ❤️

[myrabbitistryingtokillme]

My mental illness is a series of self fulfilling prophecy disorders

[bisexualjonahsimms]

Been thinking about Vincent Nigel Murray having tics recently

[toddtakefive]

thinking about todd and his resolve toward… not quite isolation, but being alone in a room full of people again. he goes along to the study room to sit on his own and do his homework, he sits at the poets table and follows along with what’s being said while keeping quiet, he goes to the meetings at all but doesn’t necessarily contribute (in fact, if you watch him when cameron is telling the story ‘from camp in sixth grade’, you can see that he recognizes it before any of the other poets but doesn’t voice it until they all have). he’s not alone, necessarily, if you want to get technical about it, he’s just lonely, and he’s generally okay with that. he doesn’t have friends and that’s fine, he doesn’t participate in class and that’s fine, he doesn’t have a relationship with his family and that’s fine—he could live without any real connection and he’d have been, more or less, fine.

the thing about when he says “i can take care of myself just fine!” is that he isn’t really wrong, you can infer that he’s been doing it his entire life anyway, it’s that ‘taking care of yourself’ isn’t the same thing as really living or being happy. todd’s an introvert, certainly, and even as he gets closer to the group he defaults to sitting quietly in the background, but he’s also denying himself community out of fear not introversion. todd isn’t friendless because he’s an introvert, although that definitely plays a part, he’s friendless because he pushes anyone that might want his company away. if anyone has every wanted for his attention in the first place. (neil’s unwavering interest in him is unique (even when it comes to the rest of the poets, who are fine with todd coming along and joining the group, but aren’t really hellbent on him being there in the beginning) and his refusal to accept it is a direct result of being so lonely growing up.)

there’s obviously something to be said about the implications of his parents neglect, and the more than likely fact that he grew up friendless, and how those both play a part in in him being so skilled at dodging social interaction/being so avoidant of it, but by the time we see him in the movie he’s all but accepted his fate as being alone his entire life. he’s already accepted being the family disappointment, and he’s already accepted he’ll never amount to anything, and he obviously doesn’t like it, but he’d have managed living with that knowledge without the confirmation that it was all wrong. would he have been miserable? almost certainly. but he’d have managed. he’d done it for that long already, anyhow.

[miscgallery]

relationship web of the 7 sillies that are occupying my brain's storage space

[chaos-of-the-abyss]

you guys know the talon-lock freefall death spiral bald eagles do for their courtship ritual? i think dior and nimloth had the same energy in their relationship

[coridallasmultipass]

Vent/grief

[earl-grey-crow]

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[itspileofgoodthings]

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[lilowoof]

ngl gamers, I think I'm gonna inevitably lose to the hormones and depression in the near future XD

Can't bring myself to be active cause I'm using a lot of energy to not vent post all the time. But fuck it, into the tags I go!

[needlesandnilbogs]

so freaking stuck on mirrorverse it’s not even funny. someone anyone save me arghhh

[5-htagonist]

.........im just gonna be real i do not see kabu misu. like period...... like dont get me wrong theyhave a good dynamic but it was NOT mithrun in the middle of his conspiracy board

[serainechor]

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