#its fucked when you look forward in life to when you'll be old and the only thing you want is to be loved

[seraphim-soulmate]

I guess part of the reason i take care of my grandma is because I want to know what to expect when I'm around that age. It's hard to imagine what that must be like and considering I share a lot of traits with my grandmother, I'd like to be as prepared as I can be. I'm not sure if I'm hoping I'll make it to that age or not. I'm not sure if life will give me that.

#personal #i know its the loneliness that gets you #so im trying very hard to build and maintain friendships. maybe ill go live in cohouseing when im older. hopefully ill have a partner. #I'm not scared to go to a nursing home. in fact the scarier option is not being able to afford a nursing home. #jesus christ. do you ever think abojt that. #who will visit you when you are old. your friends grandchildren since you dont plan on having any #maybe ill have a partner with kids from a previous union. im sure that wont drive me insane. #isnt it fucking crazy that ill always be me. ill always be this person. even if my traits change and i get older. it'll still be me. #its fucked when you look forward in life to when you'll be old and the only thing you want is to be loved #i dont want success or achievements. i want to be loved. but im so so scared of that !!!! #i dont understand why people like me and asking them to explain doesnt help because i wouldnt know what to say if they asked. #its allegedly not about accumulating enough positive traits to be worthy of love but i dont know how to do it otherwise #i have to be worth loving. there has to be perks that come with the baggage.

[familyvideostevie]

time you will not spend alone

joel miller x fem!reader, 18+ mdni romance at the end of the world is this: flowers, lazy nights in bed after long days, and savoring every moment | or, joel makes you something. jackson!joel au, fem!reader, fluff, maybe a bit cheesy but idgaf, ellie cameo cause i can't do a damn thing without her, tommy gets some page time here too, smut (riding, unprotected p in v sex, some finger sucking lol), tenderness, gift giving | 5.7k a/n: i think this is the last part of the just and just as series for the foreseeable future. thank you for reading about this little au and these two lovebirds! i adore them. thank you @frannyzooey and @macfrog for your eyes and support on this. and thank you everyone else for being patient. <3

Spring sweeps into the valley seemingly overnight. The peaks remain snow-capped but the bare branches of trees between the evergreens begin to bud. Chilly mornings lose their bite and frost turns to dew and every day there is more light.

You've always thought Jackson looks its best in winter, but it's a damn sight to see as life and color return. And the latter is your favorite part -- the rolling hills outside the walls and the forest patrol paths are dotted and then overflowing with flowers.

It makes you feel more alive. Patrol isn't a freezing ordeal anymore -- it's an opportunity to see the remaining beauty in the world.

Today's shift is short and easy but you find yourself lingering, running your hands through pine needles and turning your face to the sun. Your horse is happy to munch on a patch of grass in a clearing just off the main trail, but your patrol partner is less than impressed.

"Are you serious?" Ellie moans. "You're stopping again? What the fuuuuuuuuck."

She sags in the saddle. The pout on her lips makes her look like a kid sent to bed without supper rather than an almost-twenty-year-old forced to spend some extra minutes in the fresh air. Shimmer has no problem chewing on some weeds despite her rider's moaning.

"Let me enjoy the sun," you say. "When you get older you'll appreciate the little things, too."

You hop off your horse and Ellie sighs loudly.

"Jesus, you're not that old," she mutters. "Seriously, what are you doing?"

You sweep your arms around you, gesturing at the meadow. "These flowers are nice," you tell her, pointedly. She adjusts the rifle slung over her shoulder. "I think I'm going to pick some and bring them home."

She snorts. "Oh, is Joel suddenly into flowers?"

You ignore her bait and crouch, gaze sweeping over the array of colors in front of you. You tried to learn the names of flowers years ago when you found a book on them in an old bookstore but they never stuck. Purples, pinks, and yellows, large petals and small ones, delicate yet hardy to survive the world past its end.

Joel isn't a fussy man. Young fathers don't get to be, and anyone alive these days sheds that impulse just as quickly. He's happy to wake up every day with you by his side, his kid in the garage out back and walls around everything he loves, keeping it all safe.

It makes it both easy and hard to please him -- you want to give him everything but he seems to want nothing. A perfect paradox, a puzzle to solve. 

God, you love him. You love spring, you love Joel. Everything feels good.

So, you start to gather stems, snapping them at their bases, humming as you work.

"How do you choose which ones to pick?"

"Fuck," you gasp, careening forward onto one palm and looking over your shoulder. Ellie is off her horse and much closer than before, standing directly behind you. "Jesus, you're stealthy."

She shrugs, her smirk a pleased slash across her face. "You're oblivious as fuck."

You roll your eyes at her.

"Seriously," Ellie says, crossing her arms. She jerks her chin at the small bouquet you've got in one hand. "How do you make it look so nice?"

"Oh, so we've moved on from the making-fun-of-me part of this?"

She crouches next to you, elbows on her knees.

"I, uh -- " Her cheeks go pink, freckles standing out against her blush. "Dina likes flowers."

You bump her shoulder with yours. "I'm going to be so nice and not tease you."

"Fuck off," she scoffs, tucking her smile into her shoulder.

It's quick work. Ellie follows your lead, balances out the blooms she picks with some leafy weeds. She ties them together with one of the minimum four spare hairbands she has on her person at all times -- bits of cloth, occasionally a rare unused elastic from before if she's found some on patrol.

"Isn't it kinda shitty?" she muses, nimble fingers turning her bouquet this way and that to admire it. "We're killing them. The flowers, I mean."

"Little late to have a conscience about killing," you say lightly. The two rabbits she pulled from Jackson snares hang from her saddle. You've seen her in action, too -- gun raised, hands steady, blood splattered across her cheek. It's not an accusation, far from it. Violence is a language you both speak, one she's known for most of her still-short life.

She rolls her eyes, every bit a teenager. "Whatever."

You sigh. "You're right, though," you say. "There were whole shops dedicated to this before. Selling flowers, making bouquets and centerpieces and all that shit."

She probably knows this, but she lets you describe it. Ellie soaks up bits of the old world like it will materialize before her if she listens hard enough. Joel says it was much worse when she was younger, right after they settled into Jackson. She wanted details about everything and watched every movie she could get her hands on. You think she was satisfying her curiosity, sure, but also that she was trying to understand him better -- but didn't know how to say so.

"Weird," she mutters. "And you just...bought them for other people?"

"Or yourself." You pat her shoulder and stand. Your horse tries to nibble on your flowers before you haul yourself back in the saddle. "It was just a nice thing to do, I guess."

"Killing something to make someone else happy," Ellie says with a dry laugh. She tucks her bouquet in the crook of her arm once she's back in the saddle. "I guess everyone does that these days."

It's absurd when she puts it that way, but it's true. You've all got blood on your hands. You would kill for this girl, for Joel, for pretty much anyone in Jackson. And you have.

The flowers are for Joel, they're for your house, they're for you. Something beautiful to bring home alongside your dirt stains and scarred hands, your haunted eyes and nightmares. No one is spared those.

It's only mid-morning by the time you get back to the wall. You and Ellie left at dawn, short sticks drawn for the early shift. She leaves you in the stables with a mock salute and a shout of thanks, practically jogging to Dina's to give her the flowers.

You're untacking your horse when you hear familiar laughter, a deep chuckle and Ellie's faint indignant protest.

"Mornin'," Joel says from behind you. "Was hopin' to catch you at the gate."

"Can you hold these?"

You blindly extend the hand with the flowers. His fingers carefully extract the bouquet and you return to brushing out your horse.

"Does this have somethin' to do with Ellie runnin' out of her with flowers of her own?"

"Never let anyone say you're unobservant, Joel Miller."

He snickers. You leave your horse with a final pat on the neck and thanks for a job well done.

When you face Joel, he looks tired -- he's been pulling extra long days replacing windows and roof tiles after the winter's damage. God knows that man never seems fully rested, but it's a little worse when the seasons change.

He's told you time and time again that standing two stories off the ground is a hell of a lot safer than fighting some Infected on patrol, but you still worry. Just like you know he worries about you beyond the walls, how he's a little tenser whenever you're not in sight, whenever he hasn't seen Ellie for a few days ‘cause they're both busy. It's just how he loves. It's how you both love.

You make no move to take the flowers from him, instead brushing some sawdust from his shoulder.

"Did you have a job already?" you ask.

"Small one. Fixin' a crooked over mailbox." He looks pointedly at his full fist. "You gonna explain now?"

"They're for you."

Joel blinks once, twice, brows furrowing like you're speaking a different language. Maybe a few years ago you'd start to feel self-conscious, unsure of your romantic gesture and insecure in his reaction. But now, as fully in love and connected to this man as you are, you lean in.

"If you're too manly to carry flowers through town --"

You make to take them from him but he snaps out of his daze and wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you to his chest in a smooth motion.

He also holds the bouquet in the air and out of reach.

"Hey, now," he says. "Hands off. These ain't your flowers."

"I picked 'em," you remind him, poking him in the ribs for good measure. 

He flinches just a little but doesn't move. His embrace is warm and familiar and you sink into it. "Gettin' romantic," he mutters and brings the flowers back down to eye level to examine them.

"I'm just trying to catch up to you," you say into his jacket. He huffs and his palm rubs a slow line up and down your arm.

You wiggle out of his embrace to shoulder your pack.

"I am pretty romantic," he muses.

It's true. Even if he's joking and even if no one but you gets to see it, Joel has always made sure you feel loved. Courtship and romance look different these days, but it still comes naturally to him -- loving. Dinner dates, jewelry, and trips to the airport have become a battered paperback, a sharpened knife, and bloody knuckles, but it rings just as true. He loves you and he loves his family the best way he knows how – by keeping you all safe.

And you do your best to convey the same thing. You tell him, of course, but you also mend his shirts and chop wood when his back is acting up, and you look after his kid like she's your own.

Joel deserves to know that he can receive all that he gives, too – the protection, the tenderness, the beauty. Moments of softness and rest where he knows he’s taken care of, thought of, that he matters beyond the things he can do for everyone else.

So, you also do things like bring him flowers.

Sometimes you feel like it will never be enough. You will never have enough time to show him how much he means to you, how he's saved you, how important and cherished and loved he is. How good he is.

Joel reaches for your face with his free hand. He traces the line of your cheekbone with his thumb and smirks when you inhale sharply. Another patrol returns and the stables are suddenly louder and more crowded than before. If you're both free for the rest of the day, you want to drag him up to your bedroom and spend the hours there. You want to show him, for the millionth time, how much you love him.

"Okay, Mr. Pretty Romantic," you say, grabbing his hand and tangling your fingers together. "Let's go home."

___

Joel is hiding something from you.

The flowers last for a week and you watch him eye them and smile every time he enters the kitchen.

But after they droop and go in the compost pile, something shifts. Something subtle, sure, but you spend most of your waking hours looking for or at Joel, so you notice.

He starts keeping his workshop door closed. Normally you'll sit and watch him work, or he'll teach you a few chords here and there on the guitars he's making, but your lessons move to the porch and the upstairs hallway loses the scent of wood glue and stain.

In fact, he actively steers you away from the room altogether. He's all just needs a deep clean and it's messy, is all. It's not rocket science -- he's making something for you, clearly. But giving him a hard time is too fun to pass up.

One night, you and Ellie wait at the bottom of the stairs. There's a dinner and movie night in the old church and you're taking the opportunity to make it a family outing.

"You coming?" you holler up the stairs. You hear the door creak open.

"Gimme a second," he calls back down.

"Jesus," you mutter. You tap the side of Ellie’s sneaker with your boot. "You know anything about that?"

Honesty is important between all of you, but you know Joel and Ellie need to have their secrets. There is too much tangled history between them for you to understand it all. It's important to you that they have a relationship all their own, even if it means they scheme.

Ellie is examining her switchblade with intense focus. "I might," she says with a smirk. "He's a lovesick loser, I'll tell you that."

You lean on the banister and raise your eyebrows. "Do you remember when you asked me how to embroider so you could put Dina's name on her jacket?"

The knife swings closed with a snick and she rolls her eyes at you, cheeks pink.

"Shit, dude," she says. "Why do I tell you anything?"

"She liked the flowers, though, didn't she?"

Ellie crosses her arms and smiles at whatever memory she's seeing in her mind. "Yeah," she says. "She did. Jesse gave me so much shit, though --"

The door upstairs closes and Joel's heavy footfalls cut her off.

"Finally," you grumble. He trods down the stairs, arms half in his jacket when he catches sight of the two of you. "Are you hiding state secrets in there?"

"What the fuck does that mean?" Ellie asks.

"Might be," is all he says. He's got that twinkle in his eye that means mischief but he looks proud of himself. You can let him have this, whatever this is. You trust him and you'll find out eventually.

"Alright," you say, pushing off the banister and heading for the door. "You're going to breathe toxic fumes with the door closed."

"No, seriously," Ellie says. "What kind of secrets would a state be keeping?"

"Ain't nothin' toxic in there," he says lightly. He bumps Ellie's shoulder with his. "C'mon."

She throws her hands up in the air. "You know, it's shitty when you ignore me."

"Did you hear somethin'?" Joel says to you.

You shake your head, swallowing your laughter. "No," you say. "Nothing."

"Assholes." She pushes past you and down the steps onto the street. "I'm going to make sure there are no mashed potatoes left when you get there."

__

You don't mind letting Joel do whatever he's up to in all of his spare moments. It does mean you have more time to yourself, so you pick up some extra wall shifts.

And when one of those shifts is with Tommy? Well, you can't help but needle him a little bit about it all.

"Do you know what your brother is up to?" you ask him.

The wind today carries some lingering winter bite, so you've got the collar of your coat pulled up around your ears. Tommy’s hair whips around his face when he raises his eyebrows at you.

"Gonna have to be more specific," he says. "My brother is always up to some shit."

"I think he'd say the same thing about you."

Tommy laughs. He's got the reputation for being the more easy-going of the Millers, but you know he's more a match for Joel than most think. Out in the world, they work as one, silent and deadly, always in step when it counts. They still speak a language all their own with just a look and you see so much of them in each other when you pay attention.

"Well, I learned it all from him," he says. He adjusts his grip on the rifle and sighs. "I happen to know what you're talkin' 'bout, though."

"Is he just telling everyone but me?"

"Nah," Tommy scoffs. "Asked me and Ellie for help, s'all. And you know he tells that girl everythin'."

You both smile for a moment at your fondness for them.

Tommy clears his throat. "Does it bother you? Him keepin' a secret?"

You know Tommy won't let your answer get back to Joel. He's asking as your friend, as your kind-of brother. He's asking because he cares.

A patrol crests the hill, green flag waving in the air. They whistle and shout for the gate to be opened. 

You step closer to Tommy so he can hear you. "No," you say. "I just like to gossip."

"Don't I know it," he chuckles. "You two are the eyes and ears of this damn town. Knowin' everything."

"Except what happens in my own home," you tease. 

He shrugs. "You'll like it, if that helps," he adds.

"I know I will."

You look out at the world beyond the wall and smile to yourself. 

Joel has made you a few things over the years. He works wonders with his hands all the time: Beautiful, intricate carvings for the house, for Ellie, for new babies in town. The wall of guitars, not to mention the ones he's made for kids to learn on in school. You're better at sewing than he is, but he's pretty damn good – fixing up pillowcases and blankets and clothes of all kinds. Joel is a craftsman.

Hands that hold you can also pull a trigger, punch until there's nothing left, and craft a work of art.

And he knows you. He pays attention -- there is a reason behind everything he does. If he's making you something, you know you'll love it.

"Strange, ain’t it?" Tommy says. You turn to him, a question on your face. "World ended and here we all are, happy. Makin' shit for each other. Gosspin'."

You sigh. “Took a lot to get here.”

“Damn right,” he says with a long whistle. “Lotta shit behind us.”

“Do you ever regret it?” you ask. 

Tommy considers your words. You two talk plenty, but you’ve never really spoken about the past. Joel tells you whatever you want to hear about the years before you knew him, so you’ve got a pretty good picture of their lives after the outbreak.

"Can I tell you somethin’?” Tommy asks. You nod. "Alright. I – I never thought I'd see my brother this happy again. And I wish every damn day that Sarah was here to see it. To know him this way, to meet Maria. To know you and Ellie."

Joel has said the same thing before and it’s an honor greater than you can ever explain.

"When I saw him and that girl a few years ago, I thought --" Tommy clears his throat. "I thought maybe he’d made it through all the shit we did. And I was right. She brought him through it. And now he’s here, doin’ stable life shit we dreamed about before."

"Ellie is a force," you say, a little surprised to find your voice watery. The love between Ellie and Joel is fierce and powerful, evident to anyone who witnesses it. They would do anything for each other, even though they're mending.

"She is," he says. "And so are you.” He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “Shit, I don’t know where I’m goin’ with this. Point is – seein' him love you, too, shows me he’s through it. He's alive again, you know? And I’d do all the shit we did over again just to get us all here. So, no. I don’t regret it."

It’s nothing you haven’t thought before, but the words work their way into your heart and sit there, heavy and warm.

“Damn,” you say. You swallow and give him a wide smile. "If you keep going, Tommy Miller, I will start crying and that would embarrass us both."

He laughs and blinks a few times. You join in, wiping your eyes.

"Alright, I won't," he says. "Jesus, all you did was ask what he's doin' in that workshop."

You clap him on the shoulder. "I won't tell anyone you started blubbering on duty."

He snorts. "Ain't that generous of you.”

__

Days pass. A week. You almost forget about Joel's project because he spends less and less time in the workshop and more on tasks around town as the days get longer. You're both busy -- chopping wood, planting bulbs for the fall, helping de-shed the horses. There's always work to be done.

After a particularly long day on your feet, you come out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel to find he's gotten home while you were in the shower.

"Hey, stranger," you say. You're mostly dry but some water drips down your back and you shiver. Joel is leaning against the headboard on top of the sheets without his shirt, reading whatever book he's onto now.

"Didn't hear me come in?" he asks. He sets his volume aside and pulls off his glasses.

"I was too busy coming back to life under some hot water." He probably heard you singing off-key to some long-lost song stuck in your head for the millionth time. "And you're quiet as hell, Joel."

He shrugs.

You just look at each other, the intimate gaze of two people who know every inch of each other and never tire of it.

The sleep pants he wears to bed this time of year are lightweight, thin enough that you can see the outline of him from here. His stomach is soft where he's bent at the waist and the trail of hair above his waistband is dark, darker than the rest of what's on his chest.

The golden expanse of his skin just begs to be touched, so you make your way over to him in your towel. He makes room for you to perch on the edge of the bed, the bare skin of your thigh pressing into his pants. His palm rests on your knee.

"I haven't seen much of you lately," you say softly. "’Cause of that damn thing you're working on."

His fingers press into your skin.

"Ain't patience a virtue, or something like that?"

"Whatever magic you're working better be worth waiting for," you tease.

Joel's hand resumes its path up your leg and he smirks.

"I can work some magic right now," he says.

You laugh, throwing your head back as his fingertips edge under the towel.

"That was awful," you say. "I should get dressed in all of my layers right now and go sleep on the couch."

You pull away from his touch so you can straddle him, your towel only held on by one hand at your breasts.

Joel snickers. "But then I wouldn't be able to do this."

Nimble fingers find your cunt between your spread legs and you gasp a laugh, one hand on his shoulder to balance you in his lap.

"Smooth," you manage. His other hand tugs on the towel and you release it, your slightly damp skin breaking out into goosebumps in the air of the bedroom.

Joel drags his lips between your breasts and you feel his smile.

"Christ," he says. "You comin' outta there in just a towel and you expect me to go to sleep?"

He pulls his fingers from you and frames your face with both hands to drag it down to his in a lazy, thorough kiss, like he's savoring each moment.

His tongue traces the seam of your lips and you let him in readily, arms wrapping around his shoulders as you grind down on the hardness you can feel through his pants.

"I've missed you," you say, dragging your tongue along down his jaw. His fingertips press into your bare hips hard enough to bruise, but it's a grounding touch rather than an urgent one. You want to take your time because you have missed him, and you think he feels the same way.

"Sorry, sweetheart," Joel groans, dragging your lips back to his. "It'll be worth it."

You pull back to look him in the eyes. The hazel-grey is almost totally taken over by his pupil, but his gaze softens when you cup his cheek and smile.

"I know," you say, and mean it. Naked in his lap in your bedroom, you mean it. You always mean it. You always trust him.

Joel kisses you once, twice, and you pull on his lower lip with your teeth when he pulls away. His nostrils flare and before you can tug his cock from his pants, he holds two fingers out to you.

You laugh, circling his wrist and bringing the digits past your lips. You swirl your tongue around them and really take your time with it, laving at his knuckles before releasing them with a pop.

His cock twitches beneath you and he huffs.

"You're an easy man to please, Joel Miller," you tell him, tugging down his pants and letting his shaft spring free. You stroke him root to tip and he hisses.

"Nah," he manages. "It's ‘cause it's you."

He follows his words with a circle of your clit from his spit-slick fingers.

"See?" you gasp. "Romantic."

It's a bit crowded, his hand rubbing your clit and yours slowly jerking him, but neither of you rush it. You pant together, dotting lazy kisses on any piece of bare skin you can reach. You breathe him in, the combination of sweat and gun oil and fresh detergent that's just Joel. A rush of tenderness hits you so suddenly your nose stings.

"Joel," you say, a bit ragged. "Joel, can you --"

A gentle hand on your face brings your foreheads together, his eyes on yours.

"Whatever you want," he groans. "Whatever you want, it's yours."

You can't help it -- you laugh. Brightly and happily, almost in disbelief that this man is yours. Real and solid under you right now, beside you every night. Yours to love and cherish and all the rest.

"You laughin' at me?" he grumbles, though you can tell he's fighting a smile.

"I just love you, is all," you say. You probably don't say it enough. You and Joel show each other every day, so much so that you can't imagine he doesn't know. As it is, you feel loved by him with every move he makes, every time he looks in your direction, every time he says your name.

"And I want you to fuck me," you add.

It's Joel's turn to laugh.

"Now who's the romantic one?" he says. 

You rise from his lap and settle onto your back on the other side of the bed, stretching with your hands above your head.

His eyes follow the line of your bare body, fondness and hunger recognizable in his gaze.

"Always so damn pretty," he grumbles. "Prettiest thing I've ever seen."

"Flirt," you tease.

He rises to his knees and pumps his cock a few times with his fist. You spread your legs for him, knees bent up against your chest.

He settles between your knees and you lock them around his hips. Joel honest-to-god winks at you before dragging two fingers through your folds to make sure you're slick enough.

"Ready?"

You nod. He enters you in one practiced move and you groan in unison as you adjust. It takes some shuffling but he finds a position he can hold, and you wrap your arms around his neck.

Joel fucks you slow and deep. Each drag of his cock against your walls curls your toes and drags whines from both of your throats. He keeps up his usual babel -- doin' so good, feel like a dream, so damn tight, cunt's a fuckin' miracle -- and you press your hands into his bare back like he's a life raft.

Sweat beats on your brow, your chest, everywhere, and you suck bruises into his neck as his thrusts get a little frantic. Your own orgasm sneaks up on you, the pressure building and building and building until it snaps without warning.

"Joel -- Joel, fuck, I --"

You clench around him and he chants your name, that's it, baby, come on my cock, and buries himself to the hilt to finish inside you.

He hovers above you on trembling arms long enough to press a sweet kiss to your lips before rolling off of you.

"Now I'm ready for bed," you say, panting.

You fling a hand out lazily and it lands on his chest. He intertwines your fingers and his gaze finds yours. You smile as you get your breathing under control.

Joel smooths your brow with a thumb. "Don't forget to --"

"I know, I know," you say. "C'mon, you know this isn't my first rodeo." You get up from the bed and head to the bathroom.

"You sayin' I'm a bull?" Joel calls after you.

"Save a horse, ride a cowboy!" you holler back, cleaning yourself up. "Didn't people used to say that?"

Joel doesn't answer you but you laugh at your own joke. You make your way back to the bed in old pyjamas and find him back in his sweatpants, feet flat on the floor like he's about to get up and go somewhere.

"Joel?"

He sighs, his shoulders moving up and down like he's bracing himself.

"It's done," he says. "Your surprise."

The confession stops you in your tracks.

"Oh?"

You know Joel better than mosty, but sometimes he's still a puzzle. The hesitation, the slight air of anxiety about him as he says it confuses you. Because Joel is good at taking care of people, and he has to know it -- those years he and Ellie didn't speak you know he left her things, know that he took care of her from afar as much as she would let him. It's just what he does, he uses his hands to beat and shoot and bloody – but also to carve and hold and love.

They're the same thing, really.

And he's made you something – one of countless gifts he's given you, tangible and not, throughout your relationship.

But he's nervous. As if you wouldn't love anything he made, anything he does. As if you're not gone over every part of him.

"Hm," he says. "Yeah. Let me --"

Joel gets up from the bed and pads over to the dresser to rummage around in a drawer. You meet him back on the bed and he's holding a square-ish parcel wrapped in cloth.

You gingerly take it from him.

"This is what you've been working on?" you ask softly. He nods.

You unwrap the cloth and find yourself holding leather-bound journal. The hide is smooth under your fingertips, scraped clean by hand and tanned a dark chestnut.The spine is about an inch wide, the whole thing swen together with neat stitches of what can only be catgut. A thinner strip of leather is wrapped around the cover and tucked into itself carefully. It must have taken him ages to make. 

"Joel," you gasp. "It's...god, it's beautiful."

He tells you how he found it on patrol a few weeks ago. The cover was fucked but the paper was somehow fine, so he dried out the pages and rebound it with a hide he tanned himself. You run your hands over it again almost like you can feel his fingerprints all over it, the hours he poured into the pages.

The inside cover falls open easily when you undo the tie and you see letters in the bottom left corner of it. Your eyes sting.

Joel has carefully burned your name into the leather, each letter perfectly lined up with the next. You haven't had something with your name on it in years.

He clears his throat. "Ellie said she'd give you some of her pens. Show you how to refill 'em."

You look up from your gift and find so much love on his face you can hardly stand it. He was inside you not that long ago and somehow this is more intimate. You surge forward into his space and wrap an arm around his shoulders, burying your face in his neck.

"I don't know what to say," you confess. "Just -- thank you."

He runs his hand along your spine.

"S'nothin'," he says. "Just saw it and thought of you, is all."

You release him and shake your head in disbelief. This man.

"What should I write in it?"

Joel's cheeks darken a little. Of course he's thought of everything.

"Figured you could write about...all this." He waves a hand in the air like that explains anything.

"All what?"

He shrugs one bare shoulder.

"Life," he says. "Jackson. Folks here. Might be nice, havin' the memories."

You scoot closer to him so you're almost in his lap again.

"You want me to write down the gossip?" You mean it as a joke but Joel nods.

"You pay attention," he explains. "Someone's gotta."

You're not much of a writer anymore, haven't had cause to be in twenty years. But you do like to tell stories. You both do. 

The pages are soft under your fingertips as you flip through them again. You're going to fill them with stories -- about this town, about Joel and Ellie and Tommy and the people you love. The people you've lost, too. The memories that hurt like bruises, like fresh wounds. But the good stuff, too. The gossip, the love stories, the plants in the yard and the flowers on the trails.

Joel has given you the ability to record your lives.

You reach over him to set the journal on the nightstand before you frame his face with both of your hands.

"I'm going to write pages and pages about you, Joel Miller," you whisper.

He huffs, cheeks warm under your palms. "That's borin'."

You shake your head and lean in until your lips brush and your eyes flutter shut.

"That's the story," you say. "That's my life. This is my life. You are."

“I love you,” he breathes. “So damn much. Y’know that?”

How could you not? You say so and kiss him firmly but without hurry. You’ve got lots of time. You’ve got forever.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction

[roosterforme]

Always Ever Only You Part 5 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You notice Cat doesn't seem as frosty now, and you also notice she seems to have her eye on someone. As Bradley prepares for his deployment, Jake asks him some things that force him to reflect on the parts of his life that make him uncomfortable. And both of you are reluctant to acknowledge the looming countdown to the start of your period.

Warnings: Fluff, smut, angst, swearing, pregnancy discussions

Length: 4200 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

The deployment papers were all anyone could talk about at the Hard Deck on Friday night, and Bradley didn't even want to hear it. He was hanging out by the pool table with the others, but he wasn't really participating in the conversation. Apparently there was quite a large crew going on this deployment, including some younger aviators from Lemoore. 

"Younger aviators?" you asked, taking Bradley's beer from his hand to have a sip. You weren't really drinking tonight. When he questioned it, you muttered something about your fertility and needing to lose weight. 

"Yeah," Bradley replied, already pretty tipsy since you were the one driving. "Like fucking kids fresh out of flight school, probably. Not really looking forward to that."

You rolled your eyes and kissed him. "You're not looking forward to that? I'm really not either, Roo. You'll have a bunch of twenty five year olds all over you."

Bradley snorted as you handed the beer back to him. "No, I won't, Sweetheart. I'm old."

He was midway through taking a sip when you said, "You didn't seem old when you fucked me up against the refrigerator before we left to come here." Bradley started choking on his drink as you smiled at him. "And you didn't seem old yesterday when you lasted for an hour." He was still coughing into his fist as his eyes watered. "You're not old. You're just old enough. And you're sexy."

You turned to walk away with a smug look on your face, but Bradley reached out to grab your hand. When your head snapped back to look up at him, he could tell you were feeling a little vulnerable by the hesitation in your eyes. 

"You think it's funny to make me choke on my beer?" he asked, tugging you a little closer to him, a little further from the pool table. 

"Kind of," you replied with your chin in the air. 

Then he wrapped his hand around the back of your neck, and you gasped as his lips came crashing down to yours. You tried to pull away, but he kept you right there until your arms were around his neck and you were kissing him back. You stumbled and knocked into an empty stool, but Bradley had his other arm around your waist, keeping you steady. 

You moaned into his mouth as your fingers crept up the back of his neck and into his hair. When you pulled a little on the strands, his cock throbbed. "Fuck," he grunted, his hand sliding down to your ass to give you a light smack. 

"At the Hard Deck?" you asked, gaping at him as you whimpered. "Are you serious?" 

"Uh huh," he grunted. "Get your ass in the bathroom. Now."

Bradley watched your lips tremble before you turned toward the back hallway. "Don't worry," Nat called out, saluting him with a wink. "I'll watch your beer." 

Then he was tripping after you as you walked right into the men's bathroom like it was nothing. The sink area was thankfully deserted, but someone was taking a piss in the first stall. You just charged right into the handicapped stall, and when Bradley locked you both inside, you were unzipping your jeans. He jerked his head toward the first stall. "Someone's in here," he whispered as you shimmied your jeans down your thighs along with your light blue panties. 

"I don't care," you told him, probably loud enough for the guy who was now flushing the other toilet to hear you. Bradley let his gaze drop down to your pussy as you turned toward the wall for him. And then he was behind you, and nothing could have stopped him. 

He pushed his denim covered dick into the soft swell of your ass, and you braced yourself for what was to come with both palms flat on the wall. "You feel that?" he rasped next to your ear, grinding against you with his hands on your hips. "All you have to do is fucking look at me, and I'm hard. You make me absolutely insane, Baby Girl."

Then he placed the softest kiss to the side of your neck, eliciting a chill that shot through your body and left you moaning. "Fuck me," you begged, head tipped back. Bradley growled as he released your body to unzip his own jeans and pull his cock free. Then he nudged your legs a little further apart with his thigh. 

"Spread 'em and bend over," he commanded, and when you leaned slightly forward, he thrust into you with one hard snap of his hips against your ass. 

"Oh!"

Bradley took you by the hips again. "You know," he whispered between thrusts, "I was gonna tell you we should be quiet, but I don't even care. When I want to fuck you, I'm gonna fuck you."

You whimpered, turning your face back toward him with a dazed look in your eyes. The rhythmic slapping of his skin against yours was enough to clue anyone else in about what was going on in here, but if they looked under the stall door at both pairs of feet, they would have their confirmation. 

Bradley rubbed his mustache along your cheek before kissing you and saying, "I want you. My perfect wife. Just you." He let one hand slide up your belly and over your chest to the front of your neck. And then he went faster, enjoying the feel of your barely concealed gasps and grunts against his palm. 

As hard as he was fucking you, he made sure he kept his hands soft and his lips gentle on your neck. You seemed vulnerable, uneasy about the idea of other women talking to him during his deployment. If only you could see yourself the way he saw you. "How could I want anyone else, Baby Girl? I've been all yours since the first time you looked at me. I'm wearing your ring." He planted his left hand on top of yours on the wall. "And you're wearing mine."

You whimpered as you clenched around him, and Bradley slowed down his pace, drawing out your orgasm as he felt himself reach his limit. "That's it," he groaned as you whined his name.

"Bradley."

"Oh hell," he whispered against your ear as he filled you with his cum. "If I knock you up in the men's bathroom at the Hard Deck, I won't even be embarrassed."

You giggled as one of the toilets flushed again, and Bradley carefully withdrew from you with a grunt. His cum was dripping out of your pussy and onto that light blue underwear he liked so much, but you just pulled it back up, wiggling your ass. 

"You do this shit on purpose, don't you?" he asked, tucking himself away and zipping up his jeans. 

"What do you mean?" you asked, turning to look at him once you were fully dressed again. 

"I mean, just..." he said, gesturing at you with his hands. "Just fucking all of this. I love you so much."

You pressed your lips together and nodded, taking his hand in yours. "Yes, Bradley. I do it on purpose."

"I knew it," he muttered, following you out of the stall with absolutely no shame.

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

You were so exhausted by Monday morning, you were almost happy to go back to work. Bradley had been on you all weekend. First the bathroom at the bar, and then in your bed later that night. He had been a little drunk and needy, and thank goodness he got up to play golf on Saturday and let you sleep. 

When you rode to work with him in the Bronco, he threatened to follow you up to your office, and you really thought he might. Luckily the two of you saw Jake in the parking garage, and you pawned Bradley off on him. If you didn't have a ton of things to work on with the rest of your team, you would have been in your office with the door locked and your head on your desk, taking a nap. 

When you got to your lab, pretty much everyone else was already there, including Cat. Once you were settled in, she came over to you. "Thanks again," she said softly, and you turned to look at her. She handed your car key back to you. "I filled it up with gas."

"You didn't have to do that," you replied in a whisper, wondering why she was being so quiet. 

Cat was looking at the floor now. "Yes, I did. You let me use your car for the entire weekend. I ran errands and took Jeremiah to the beach. It was great. And I didn't have to bug my uncle to use his car. Don't get me wrong, Uncle Bernie is the best, but I'm starting to feel like I've overstayed my welcome. He's a bachelor, and having us there has been a huge adjustment, I'm sure. God, I'm just rambling now," she said, shaking her head, embarrassed. 

"No," you insisted. "You're not rambling." You studied her face and asked the one question you'd been thinking about all weekend. "How old is Jeremiah?" 

Cat seemed to close in on herself a little bit, and she didn't answer, even when she met your eyes. 

"You don't have to tell me," you said quickly. 

"I'm sorry," Cat said, closing her eyes briefly. "It's just that you're the only person at work who knows about him. He turned one in November."

You were shocked. Cat and Macy hung out at the Hard Deck together. She talked to Sonya all the time. And she hadn't told either one of them about her child? 

"What does he look like?" you asked before you could stop yourself. You wanted to die of embarrassment. This woman clearly did not want to talk to you about this. But then she surprised you again when she pulled her phone from her pocket and held up her lock screen. 

"I suppose he looks like me," she said with a little laugh and a shrug. 

"He's so cute," you told her sincerely. Brown eyes, chubby cheeks and lots of hair. And then you ached inside, because he was perfect. A perfect, sweet looking little boy with only two teeth when he smiled. You didn't look away from the image until she lowered her phone, and you felt like you'd been caught looking at something that you shouldn't have been. You swallowed hard and murmured, "He looks like a Jeremiah." 

She smiled and nodded. "Of course he does. I nixed all the names his dad wanted."

Just when you were about to ask about Jeremiah's dad, Cat cleared her throat. "So, yeah. Thanks for letting me use your car. It was the best weekend I've had in a long time. And your car does look horrible, but it actually runs nicely. I barely had to jiggle the shifter."

"Right?" you said, perking up again. "That's what I'm talking about! Can I have you give a personal testimony to my husband?"

"Sure," she said with a shrug. "He doesn't like your car?"

"Hates it," you confirmed. "I mean, it did try to take him out on the bay bridge one time.... but that was probably user error."

After that, Cat ended up bringing her computer over next to you to enter in some code. You and she didn't talk about anything other than work at that point, but it was still pleasant. But around noon, you jumped in your seat when you felt a hand on your shoulder, and Cat jumped a little bit next to you as well. You spun around to see Cam standing there laughing quietly. 

"Sorry," he told you. "But that was pretty funny."

"It wasn't!" you said, heart still racing. "You messed up my line of code!"

"Move," Cam said, sliding your chair out of the way. You watched him lean down and fix it for you. And then you watched Cat watching him fix it for you.  Oh no. Jake was not going to be amused by that. "There you go. Good as new," he told you, sliding your chair back into place. 

You took a deep breath and said, "Hey, Cam. This is Cat. She's kind of new to the lab." He reached his right hand out to her, and she took it. "And Cat, this is Cam. My friend from way back at the Naval Academy."

"It's nice to meet you," Cam said with his usual charming smile. 

"You, too," Cat said, eyes soft.

Fuck. What were you supposed to tell Jake? Now you needed to figure this whole thing out with another layer added to it. 

"You coming to lunch?" Cam asked you.

"Oh. Yeah. Go ahead down and grab a table with Maria. I'll be right there."

As soon as he was out the door, Cat turned to you with a bland look. "Does a full hour ever go by without a hot man visiting you?" You burst out laughing, and she smiled as she shook her head. "I'm serious though. He's so cute."

"Yeah.... he is," you agreed. Then you decided to just go for it. "Would you lump Jake Seresin into that same category of hot men?"

"Oh," she said, biting down on her lip. "Yeah. Obviously. And don't take this the wrong way, but your husband's no slouch either." And now you were laughing again as Cat added, "I know you said Seresin is your friend, but he seems like a strictly you can look, but don't touch scenario."

"Really? What makes you say that?"

All she said in response was, "He's got a reputation. As a womanizer."

You gaped at her. Maybe you were just too close to Jake to really know what people said about him and thought about him. But you knew he was sweet. And sincere. Trustworthy and steady and honest. 

He was a bit like Bradley. Those negative things and those positive things also applied to your husband once upon a time. And you never let anyone say anything negative about him, because you knew what kind of person he was now. Didn't Jake deserve the same thing?

"I don't know about that," you told Cat. "All I know is, he's one of the best friends I've ever had."

She studied your face and nodded like she was accepting what you said even if she didn't quite believe it. And then she was gone, and you stood as well to go find Cam and Maria.

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

Bradley really hated getting ready for deployments. It was never this bad before he was with you. He used to just toss his shit in his duffle bag and climb aboard the carrier. But now there was special planning involved. He was going to have to have a conversation with Jake about you, and another one with Payback, Fanboy and Coyote. He was going to have to make sure you had everything you needed. And if that involved taking a trip to Costco and letting you call him Daddy the whole time, then so be it. 

He was also pretty devastated about putting the quest to get you pregnant on hold. The countdown to the day your period was due was driving him crazy, so he knew you must be waiting to see what happened as well. 

Bradley was working on a few projects around the house so you wouldn't have to take care of them when he was gone. He was on the ladder on the back patio, fixing a broken piece of the roof gutter when he heard you. The sliding glass door was open, and he could hear your voice along with Jake's. Bradley rolled his eyes. Jake was seriously cramping his style right now. But at least if he was here, Bradley could have a chat alone with him before he left. 

"Why won't you tell me what she said?" Jake asked, and then Bradley heard you hesitate. 

"Because I don't want to hurt your feelings."

"Angel, I'm a thirty three year old man. I don't have feelings."

Bradley could hear you snort before you said, "Yes, you do. You whine and cry them out at me all the time."

"Just tell me." 

There was a longer pause this time, and then you finally said, "Cat thinks you're a bit of a ladies' man. A player."

"Well, shit," Jake muttered. "Now I kind of wish you hadn't told me."

"Listen, Jake. I think you're wonderful, okay? Really, I just adore you," came your quick response. "But Cat seems to kind of have a thing for my friend Cam anyway."

"Cam Harvey?" Jake balked, and Bradley rolled his eyes. "That skinny nerd?"

You burst out laughing in the kitchen as Bradley climbed down the ladder. "He's not a nerd! Okay, he's a little skinny, and he does wear those nerdy glasses. But he's cute! And he's a good kisser."

Bradley froze in place just as he was about to walk inside. That was interesting, because he had explicitly asked you before if you had ever dated Cam. You still spent a lot of time with him and Maria, eating that nasty avocado toast at brunch.

Now Jake sounded insecure. "Well, maybe she just doesn't know me well enough yet. Because I've got a bit of a nerdy side, too. I just don't tell that many people about my toy airplane collection. And I'm a fucking great kisser, not that you would know that."

"Yeah," Bradley said, walking inside. "And you're gonna keep it that way." But there was no threat in his voice, because as soon as you saw him, you came rushing over to give him a hug.

"I thought you were out walking Tramp!"

"Nah, just doing some chores. Tramp is digging behind the shed like a complete menace." Bradley kissed the top of your head a few times and wrapped his sweaty arms around you. He reached up to play with your necklace chain, smiling when he saw you were wearing the charms he'd give you last year. "I love you."

Jake cleared his throat loudly, and Bradley glared at him.

"Why are you always at my house, Jake?" he asked as you pressed just one soft kiss to his chin and then pulled yourself out of his grasp. 

"I came by to workout with you," Jake replied.

But you laughed and said, "No, you didn't. I mean, you can still do that, but you came by to borrow my paraffin wax bath because you secretly want to go get a manicure, but you won't let yourself."

Jake just gave you a bland look before turning back to Bradley and saying, "I'll be out in the garage."

When he disappeared through the sliding glass door, you patted Bradley's abs and said, "Go play with your friend."

Bradley swatted your ass. "He's your friend, not mine. I have one friend, and she'd never use a paraffin wax bath or get a manicure."

"You have other friends besides Nat! And just because she doesn't do fun things with you doesn't mean she doesn't do fun things! She and I went for a manicure together last year."

"Nobody ever asks me if I want to go," he grumbled playfully. Then Bradley let you push him toward the door, and since he was already dressed for chores, he headed out to the garage to lift weights with Jake.

Jake was sitting on the bench when he walked in, and Bradley said, "Hey, can I talk to you for a minute about when I'm deployed-"

"How did you do it?" Jake asked, looking up at him with an almost accusatory gaze.

Bradley froze with his brow furrowed. "I'm sorry, what are we talking about?"

Jake eased himself back onto the bench now that someone was here to spot for him, and Bradley watched him take his time adjusting his gloves before he finally spoke again. "I don't understand how you went from a guy who was sleeping around to a guy who was taken seriously by Angel overnight." 

Jake grabbed the bar and started on some reps while Bradley just stood there. It was like Jake had read his dirtiest thoughts, the ones he tried to hide back in the deep recesses of his mind, never letting them see the light of day. Because he was kind of ashamed. Always afraid he wasn't good enough for you. "I don't know either," he whispered.

Jake grunted, counting under his breath before placing the bar back on the rack. "And why did you do it for Angel?" he asked, taking a short rest before reaching for the bar again. 

"I...had to," Bradley replied. "I just needed to. First time I saw her, I was completely hooked. Like I would do whatever needed to be done to even get her to talk to me. I think I had slept with a different woman the night before I met her. Can't really remember. And then I was just done."

Jake seemed to be contemplating what he'd said, but now Bradley's thoughts were a mess. You. You. You. All he thought about was you. Ever since he met you, but especially since he spilled beer on you and fell in love with your voice. It was impossible to explain out loud with words, but it was the strongest thing he had ever felt. The more time he spent with you, the clearer it became that he really pulled off the impossible. 

He wanted to give you everything. Be everything. And now, as Jake counted off some more reps, Bradly thought that maybe it was his fault you weren't pregnant yet. Maybe he was letting you down each month without even knowing it. 

"I haven't even slept with anyone since before your wedding," Jake said with an edge of annoyance to his voice. 

Bradley rubbed his mustache as Jake stood so he could have the bench now. "Well, maybe you should. You seem extra irritable."

"There's this woman..."

"Yeah, I know. Cat," Bradley supplied, wrapping his hands around the bar and lifting it from the rack. 

He counted his own reps while Jake said, "If someone who just moved here a month and a half ago already thinks I'd fuck anything with tits, then why would she ever want to go out with me?"

Now it was Bradley's turn to be quiet for a few moments before he finally said, "Show her who you really are. And if that doesn't work, spill some beer on her. Did the trick for me."

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

When the boys came back inside, you were straining the pasta while you danced to a playlist Bradley made for you. 

"Smells like Marry Me Rooster," Bradley grunted, heading right for you. He was all sweaty which made you immediately dizzy with lust, and you really had to reel it in with Jake around. When Bradley wrapped you up in his arms, he whispered, "Thank you."

"For what? Dinner?" you asked with a laugh as he kissed your cheek. "You're the one who has to clean it up."

"Not just dinner. For everything." 

Now he was looking at you with the softest eyes, so you quickly asked, "Jake, you staying to eat with us?"

You already knew he wouldn't. Not with Bradley suddenly turning into a sap. "No, I'm heading out, but thanks. See you at work."

When you heard the front door open and then close, you lightly punched Bradley in his solid midsection. "Did you scare him away on purpose?"

"No," he replied, wrapping you up in his arms. "But he and I had a heart to heart, and I love you, and I just want to touch you all the time."

So you sat on his lap and shared one plate piled high with dinner, and then Bradley cleaned the kitchen shirtless while you watched. "You like what you see?" he asked as he set the pans in the sink to soak. 

"Very much so," you replied, enthralled by the flex of his bicep and his tattoo. 

When he dried off his hands, you thought he was going to take you right to bed, but instead he asked, "What are we doing for Valentine's Day?"

You raised one eyebrow. "Nothing? Do we ever do anything?"

Bradley shrugged. "I was deployed last February. This is only our second Valentine's Day together. First one I'll be home for. Thought we could do something special. Go away for a night."

You bit your lip then whispered, "We should be saving our money. I'm still optimistic we might need to eventually give one of the extra bedrooms a little remodel into a nursery."

"Oh, that's definitely going to happen," he promised. "Doesn't mean we can't go away just the two of us for a night. Maybe you won't get your period."

You kissed him and murmured, "I don't want to talk about my cycle. I want to talk about where we're going for Valentine's Day."

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

Their first Valentine's Day spent together. Hard Deck smut. And I love the heart to heart between the boys. Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 6

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#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #rooster x you #rooster fanfic #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #rooster bradshaw fic #bradley rooster x reader #rooster bradshaw x reader #top gun imagine #top gun maverick imagine #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #roosterforme #always ever only you

[wannaeatramyeon]

Alright hear me out.. Jonggun x a big deal member reader.. 🫣 like, both of us hating each other to guts, but somehow an odd feeling causes us to desire to spend time with each other etc while not even knowing the reason, and once gun feels close enough to us to inform us about his Yakuza clan and his whole shiro oni side, it turns out we were actually gun's childhood friend back then 🤭

Anon. You'll be the death of me. Apologies for the delayed response as usual! I started this today with a small idea. Came back to it tonight and 2k words later, it's now nearly 2am. I... I think I really like this. Let's sleep on it anyway. Hope it hits the spot and thanks for requesting!

Gun Park x Big Deal!Reader: Yamazaki Yuzuru

G/N. Enemies to lovers. (...Childhood friends turned enemies to lovers).

Cynics would say you sold your body in a different way, although you hate to think about it like that. You suppose that it may seem so for someone on the outside looking in.

Big Deal is famous for its passion, its romance. You never thought it applied to you. Not like it did to others.

.

.

The first time you meet on Big Deal street, Gun studies you. Gaze hidden under his sunglasses, curiosity piqued as he wonders who you are.

A sea of gangsters but your face sticks out like a sore thumb. Familiar. Like a distant memory just out of reach, like trying to recall a dream.

Notices your scar-littered knuckles faded silver with time. Hardly unusual for gang members yet Gun still peers down at his own hands.

They're similar. Almost matching. A pair.

Ever watchful eyes burn into the side of your head.

When you turn in his direction, you know for certain he is only looking at you.

Age old scars start to itch. Absentmindedly, you scratch at your hands.

.

.

Gun asks for your name during your second meeting.

"Who are you?"

Jake Kim frowns, searches your face for a reason why he would be asking you. Why he would be taking an interest.

You give your boss an imperceptible shrug.

"None of your business," is all you offer. Clipped. Brusque. Not wanting to cause any more trouble for Big Deal by outright ignoring him.

What you mean to spit is fuck you.

What you mean to scream is I want to kill you with my bare hands.

You don't look at him today.

"Oh, this one is feisty," Goo Kim steps forward, duffle bag of cash in hand and eyes roving over you with approval.

Trouble still finds you.

Jaw clenching, hands scrunching into fists; Jake ready to defend his crew-

Gun beats him to the punch.

"Let's go. The money is all there."

His blonde associate throws him an odd look. Nevertheless, they still leave. You're not sure if you've ever seen anything better than their retreating backs.

Big Deal survives for another day.

.

.

Your luck runs out on your third meeting.

Gun finds you when you're miles from Big Deal and alone. When the rain drenches the earth and the air suffocates. When instead of water bringing life, it brings an omen.

This time you have no choice but to look at him, glaring into his pitch-black eyes. Fear eclipsed by loathing as he holds his umbrella over you, downpour providing a shroud and shielding the two of you from the world.

A strange game of silence starts, neither of you wanting to speak first.

Minutes tick by. The feeling of hatred is tiring to keep up. Holding onto the anger at the surface drains you. Infinitesimally your gaze starts to soften until Gun's curiosity is mirrored in yours.

To your surprise, he cracks first.

He tells you he recognises the vitriol in your voice from last time, no matter how much you thought you had successfully veiled it.

(A tiny smirk, almost fond, graces his features as he is reminded of your animosity.)

Offers you a chance, an escape line, a tantalising small glimmer of hope for Big Deal to leave the four crews.

Taking a drag on his cigarette, he proposes, "You can have your freedom if you can kill me."

Oh?

The odds are not in your favour. You agree anyway.

.

.

You manage to land a hit on his left arm, even as he turns and deflects most of the damage with a roll of his shoulder.

Had it been successful, it would have left it limp and hanging. Unfortunately, Gun only seem inconvenienced at best.

Your next attack manages to break the skin on his cheek. You miss your mark, wanting to gouge out his eyes instead.

Still, seeing the trickle of blood pleases you.

Gun Park takes no prisoners. Aims to incapacitate at the best of times, if not to maim or kill.

The thrill and adrenaline surges once he notices the cut. Feels the blood rushing to the surface and it already swelling.

He lunges after you, launching an open hand strike straight for your chest.

Throwing up both arms just in time, you manage to negate most of the intensity of his hit. Even still, you are flung to the other side of the street and hard into the ground.

Death would have been on the cards if not for your quick thinking.

When Gun sees the crimson falling from your lips, you spluttering and winded, choking on your own blood and body barely able to move-

All he can think about is how intriguing it is that you are still breathing. How peculiar that you managed to defend yourself, like you had foreseen his move. How mesmerising that particular shade of red.

Gun doesn't kill you today.

He tells you you have failed and leaves you to wallow in your own humiliation. You watch his figure growing smaller into the distance and find no joy in this retreat.

Blood and sweat mingles with the rain, cold seeps into your bones. When you think all hope is lost-

You catch a glimpse of maroon beneath your nails. Even as your body lies broken and beaten, you think of how you have managed to spill droplets of Gun Park's own blood.

It's a pleasant thought.

.

.

The fourth time he asks again for your name.

You wonder how he manages to find you once more during heavy showers.

As if he is only able to venture out during storms, like a worm awakened with the pitter patter of raindrops and slithering out of wet soil.

Fitting.

Amused both at this and the audacity of his question, you chuckle at his tenacity. The action causes you to wince. Body still recovering, a result of your fight from last time.

Gun takes a step forward and you flinch away immediately. Worsening your injury, grimacing and groaning as black spots appear in your vision.

"Stop," he orders and you are tempted to do it again just to defy him. "I'm not in the habit of repeating myself. I'll ask you for the final time, what is your name?"

In no fit state to fight, loss inevitable even if you were, you finally give it up.

You tell him through gritted teeth and a seed is planted in his mind.

"And you know mine."

"Gun Park."

He loves the fury in your voice. He wants to hear you say it again.

.

.

Gun slams you into a wall during the fifth time. Pins your arms above your head as you thrash against his hold.

Desperately trying to regain your footing, regain your strength as he has once again bested you.

He leans into your ear, voice taunting and infuriating. "Y/N." Relishes the way your name sounds, "You've failed again."

You whip your head around, ready to do something, anything. Bile in your throat and venom on the tip of your tongue-

His face is centimetres away from yours, breath hot and your skin prickles.

Own breath hitching as he drops his eyes to your lips. Desire and hunger plain on his face.

He doesn't lean forward and you wish he did.

He lets you go and you wish he didn't.

You hate yourself for it.

.

.

Sleep becomes difficult. You lie awake at night and think about him. Replay the scene in your head.

Your self hatred builds.

.

.

Thoughts of what-ifs tiptoe through your mind during the day. Conjures up scenarios of what if Gun Park actually did brush his lips against yours.

You hate yourself more than you hate him.

.

.

Like a self fulfilling prophecy, it happens during the sixth meeting.

All fight dissipates from you as your traitorous mind wanders and strays.

Gun Park catches your fist. He doesn't shove you away. Sees your pupils blown huge with lust and slams your body into his instead.

Your lips crash together, all teeth and snarls. It is both everything and nothing like you had imagined.

The umbrella lies forgotten on the ground as he rams you up against a wall in a forgotten alleyway.

Your legs wrap around his hips as he pushes into you.

.

.

Meetings end in a stalemate.

.

.

Meetings end in more sordid alleyways. A quick and dirty sprint to the finish line.

.

.

In backseats, cramped and rushed and hot. Leather sticking to sweat slick skin, windows fogging up with steam.

.

.

In hotel rooms and tangled sheets.

.

.

In walks of shame at 3am.

.

.

In showers, exploring each other's bodies.

.

.

In baths with your back against his chest.

.

.

In his bed and waking up together in the morning.

.

.

You don't act differently when Gun Park and Goo Kim come to collect their dues.

But the bruises left by his fingers under your Big Deal uniform pulses and throbs.

You still hate yourself but you hate Gun less.

Seeing him reminds you of the way he moans your name. The additional scars you've scratched into his back. The way his hips rock against yours.

(When it's just you two, you can't bring yourself to hate him at all.)

You stay still and silent as Goo counts the bills.

Under his sunglasses, Gun always observes you.

.

.

"Where did you get these scars?"

Gun traces over your knuckles. Touch gentle and tentative. A far cry from your first contact.

Truthfully you can hardly even remember. It was another life. In the land of the rising sun, when you saw the world through childhood innocence.

You piece together what you can.

"I used to spar when I was younger. With another boy that was on my street..."

Eyes affecting a far off look, reliving what you can of your memory.

Snapshots of a small stature, below average for his age but lightning fast reflexes and a terrifying strength.

You were never a match for him. Not really. But he still insisted on seeing you everyday.

Training together. Developing a language of your own through punches and kicks.

Above all, you fought. But that small quiet boy, who talked infrequently, whose bite was just as bad as his bark gave you the first taste of something real.

"You lost more than you won." Gun's voice cuts through. You thought they were teasing words but- "Cried when he beat you and he would bribe you to shut up. Spent three summers together getting stronger until he had to leave."

Gun holds his own scarred hand up.

You remember the scar the boy got when you kicked him into the ground, how you bandaged it afterwards. Unravelling as soon as you wrapped it, handiwork sloppy and inexperienced.

The scars when you both would practice your punches, strengthening tendons wherever you could. On whatever surfaces available.

And one scar in particular: when you bit down hard on his hand after a particularly gruelling fight and refused to give him the victory.

How have you missed this? How has the string of fate managed to stretch across land and oceans and borders and years?

The fog lifts and the name slams into your mind.

"Yuzuru."

Gun kisses you, hand cupping the back of your head and other curling around your waist. Whispers your own name against your lips. The one you were born with. The one he used to call you.

A name you haven't heard in years, but he never forgot.

"Say my name again." His voice is rough, choked.

"Yamazaki Yuzuru."

He kisses you more fiercely than ever before.

The first meeting wasn’t on Big Deal street. It wasn't even in South Korea.

.

.

You didn't sell your body.

The Big Deal passion and romance flares within you. It just always belonged to someone else.

#lookism #lookism manhwa #lookism webtoon #lookism x reader #gun park #gun park x reader #park jonggun #park jonggun x reader #lookism fic #wannaeatramyeon #edit: yeah... this has shot to the top of my faves 🥹

[generalpalacefishgoop]

You know the posts recently about bbh neg on twter, the timing of it with that going on, makes me want to hurl, they don't give a shit about "victims" or the real issues. They just want to dunk on the next cc they hate using the current "momentum".

You know what, I say let them go ahead and try to "cancel" Bad, really, go ahead. They're just regurgitating shit DSMP fans has said over the years again and again about Bad. Its fcking funny actually. Oh not forgetting they had to invent new ones or ones THAT THEIR FAVES HAVE DONE TOO BTW, to "cancel" Bad. To think I was looking forward to QSMP fans being "healthier" or "better" than DSMP ones, oh boy am I sorely disappointed.

Let them run their mouths about Bad. Cuz I'm 100% sure the CCs , QSMP admins, and Quackity give 0 shit about them. Etoiles knows and has already expressed how he knows that Bad is overly hated by the fandom and how he receives neg on the daily. Despite knowing that, he's still cordial with Bad. And he even expressed how he tries to not be "angry" or "frustrated" at Bad or else the parasocial fucks will come running to "defend" him from "evil" BBH when he has said a million times over that its not a fcking big deal, and hes just expressing himself NOT IN A NEG WAY. but noooo parasocial fucks be like "oh no my skunkrly wrunkly his feelings got hurt oh no" same shit with foolish fans. Fcking blind af. Esp the new ones who hasnt experienced the prank wars in dsmp. Fcking joyless fucks who cant handle a fcking block game that theyre not even playing. But thankfully, Etoiles stopped being so concerned, and well, yk with Foolish lmao same old same old.

(Disclaimer: SOME FANS NOT ALL, IM TALKING ABOUT THE TOXIC PARASOCIAL FUCKS, YES EVEN THE BIG ACCOUNTS ON TWITTER WITH THOUSANDS OF FOLLOWERS. You know who. Big numbers doesn't mean they're more RIGHT. A parasocial fuck is a parasocial fuck. Also, when I say parasocial, I mean the ones who are toxic and project themselves onto the CC. Being parasocial is fine, if it's the healthy kind, if you know what I mean)

I digress, there's no fcking unfollows or subtweets from CCs to Bad, unlike with D or F. In fact, some CCs and CLOSE FRIENDS of Bad's have always praised Bad and defended him TO THIS DAY. If that is not enough of an indication of how unproblematic he is, Idk what else to say. Just fuck off and live a life in constant misery and hatred ig. That's why don't respond to fucks like that. Just mute em. They can yap all they want but it means SHIT ALL if you don't see it. BBH's community is WAY WAY smaller than the whole fandom (and theres wayyy more toxic fucks) so bbhs community saying shit back to the toxic shits will also mean SHIT ALL. They CLEARLY don't watch Bad anyways so what's the point. Better way to deal with this shit is fight the misinformation, that's all. Spread more positivity and give ppl FULL context and CORRECT information. If you see some shit against Bad, report it and send it to whatever ban list qsmp uses. Send it to mods or something. Ik that Bagi's discord has something like that.

Oh but ppl be like /rp or /lh or "it's just my opinion", who gives a shit. Still report them. We're not dumb. The mods or whoever admins are not dumb. That negative toxic fuck smell on it, is fcking obvious enough.

STOP GIVING THEM ENGAGEMENTS. We can happily stay in each others bubbles without ever talking to each other, AND THAT IS FINE. Don't let the negative fucks in. Mute and report them, and I guarantee you, that fcking stranger on the Internet, you'll forget within DAYS. those fuckers won't even exist to you, vice versa.

THEIR WORDS HOLD NO POWER OVER YOU OR THE QSMP COMMUNITY. KEEP THE QSMP COMMUNITY HEALTY AND SAFE. Fuck them toxic shits.

#qsmp #qsmp fandom neg #neg #discourse #fandom neg #rant #badboyhalo

[boredw69]

Only In His Office Ch. 1 Negan X Reader

Y/n is 19 year old Senior in high school who is particularly quiet but that's only because she always takes the time to write in her notebook filled with.. thoughts about someone imparticular, but its not who you expect it to be…

◇There is a age gap in this book so if you are not ok with that or if it makes you uncomfortable then you do not have to read, it's your choice.◇

Warnings: Sexual themes, Cursing, Age Gap, (bad writing.. :L )

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

Chapter One.

Word count: 1596

I pressed the dark tip of my pencil into my notebook writing as fast as I could trying to remember any detail that I had stowed away in my brain of someone whom I not speak of to anyone but myself.

He was the only man that had ever made me feel things; things I had only felt when I was alone in my room... Just me and my thoughts, but one day he came along and all the other things... I was using for pleasure were replaced by the thought of him towering over me, his hand firmly gripping my neck as I turn a light shade of pink. I longed for his taste, his presence was even enough to have me ache.

I would get on my knees anytime of the day for this man.

The way I thought about him made it seem like I could just talk to him, as if I had been close to him for my whole life, but no, it is not as simple as you think. So for that reason I choose to keep to me and my notebook where I write all of my.. thoughts about him.

The loud bell struck me out of my thoughts and I began to get up snatching my jacket and notebook on the way. I shuffed as fast as I could down the hall and through the double door room.

My shoes squeaked on the gym floor calling the attention to the coach across the way.

"Early again?" He asked with his sarcastically cheerful voice.

A question he always asked ever since he noticed my excitement to be in his class, and something I would always respond with a shy nod. It wasn't my choice to be shy but when I was around him what more could I say?

I threw my things into the bleachers where everyone is ordered to do and took my spot on the floor begining to stretch.

Hello's flooded the room as more Students came in .

"Alrighty, Lets get this stupid roll call over. Jace?" he shouted.

"Here" I heard from across the gym.

I began stretching, my mind wondering as I did so. My eyes fell to his legs, and as I slowly came up from my stretch I continued up past his thighs.. his groin, and his toned stomach.

'Fuck..' I murmured playing it off as I had stretched a sore muscle.

"Y/n?"

I jerked my head up looking at coach who seemed disappointed.

I cleared my throat, "here, sorry!"

He raised an eyebrow, "Next time keep your damn ears open."

Even when he was mad I stayed attracted to him, in fact it only made the thought of him pressing me against the wall harshly with pure lust more prominent. The things he could do when he was angry were unthinkable...

---

"I want you to sweat your balls off!" He shouted.

I thrusted my legs forward going as fast as I could. Not only for Coach but for my dad... he has been wanting me to join some sort of sport and that requires me to be good in gym so I did exactly that.

"Alright- the bell is going to ring in a few minutes, keep running until it rings! I dont care if you'll be late to class!"

I continued running, the sweat forming in every area it could. I was going to smell foul, but luckily after 2 years of being in his gym class I know to store away deodorant and perfume in my locker.

The bell rang once again and everyone rushed for the bleachers grabbing their things. I shoved through the crowd and managed to hook my jacket on my finger before throwing it over my shoulder and hurrying to my locker.

I put on something that would hide my smell and walked through some perfume before putting on my jacket and speeding down the almost empty hall.

As I jogged to history class it felt like something was missing...

Did we have history homework? It cant be my history book, it's in class as always... wait.

"Shit" I whisper yell.

I ran back down the hall and turned a corner going through the lockers and into the gym where I stood halt.

Chills ran up my spine and goosebumps traveled across my body... what was standing in front of me was of my worst nightmares.

He looked up from my book with a astonished look.

Maybe he didn't read it, maybe he just glanced at it... maybe..

"I-" I couldn't even get words to come out, only small whimpers.

This is so bad.. What the hell do i do now.?

"Follow me for a moment Miss. L/N" He stated.

This was the most serious I'd ever heard him.

This cannot be happening...

"B-but I need to get to cl-"

He looked up and me shutting my book tightly and bringing it to his side, "Now please.

Shit! No...

I followed him as he walked, he was alot scarier than I thought he would be, but then again I always thought of what he was like during sex instead of real life situations like this... I never thought that he would find my vulgar description of him like this, once again I foreseen it in less of a real situation.

I was an idiot for bringing it to school, it should have stayed in my closet where it belongs.

Negan shut the door and locked it.

"I-... I'm sorry.." tears began to form in my eyes, I was probably going to get expelled and my parents would find out and the whole school would know that I'm a perverted freak.

"Don't be sweetheart. Although I never seen you as such a dirty freak I knew there was something up with you, I mean common your so goddamn quiet." He trailed on, "but I didn't expect this-" he waved my book around before placing it on his desk.

"I- I can explain.."

"No need, I'm honestly flattered" he chuckled taking a seat in his plush office chair.

My eyes grew wide and I frantically searched his face for something other than seriousness.

Flattered? How, Why??

He leaned back, "Com'on, dont tell me you've never read them back. This shit right here-" he tapped his finger on my notebook, "is damn good!".

My eyebrows furrowed now looking down to his feet unsure of what to say.

"So.. Quiet.." He trailed on running his tongue across his teeth.

I shivered as his voice deepened. I was flattered to know my writing was exceptional.. and if I wasn't delusional I'd think he was flirting with me right now.

He picked up the book and opened up to a random page; glancing up to me he began to read.

I held my breath, "Please,.. Don't. I'm sorry I'll throw it away.. It won't ever happen again." I reached for the book but he pulled back holding it to his chest.

"Ah, ah ah." He Tsked.

I swallowed a lump in my throat and stepped back watching him slowly pull the book back down to read again.

"This is some freaky shit." He spat with a immodest tone. "I mean if I didn't know any better I'd think this belonged to a fucking psycho." He chuckled.

"Are you a psycho Miss L/N?" he asked leaning forward his elbows now resting on his desk book still in hand.

I stared blankly, my mouth agape unable to speak.

He tilted his head and set the book down now rising from his seat. He strolled around the desk and stood in front of me.

"I won't ask again.." He trailed on, his voice deeper and more demanding.

I could feel my heart physically racing, and my hand began to shake.

"no.. Sir." I mumbled formally.

He looked down on me towering over me by at least 8 inches. He leaned down closer to my ear. "I'm sorry, I couldn't quite hear that."

I could feel his breath on my neck. My legs felt weak, and I was aware of every little thing happening around me.

"No." I spoke up.

I dared to look up; catching him as he came up from my ear with a smirk.

The door rattled with a knock and my heart sank.

He rolled his eyes now taking a firm grip on my shoulder slowly moving me just behind the door. He lifted a finger to his lips before opening the door to cover me.

"Have you seen Miss. Y/n L/n? This was her last class and she hasn't came into Mrs. Jaco's class yet"

He cleared his throat, "She had left her book in gym class, I was expecting her to come retrieve it but she hasn't, so no, I haven't seen her".

"Hmm. That just doesn't seem like her, ya know?"

"Yea, let me know if you find her so I can give her this book of hers"

"Oh I can take it to her so its easier." The woman sounded cheery.

I could feel his panic from here. She had stepped slightly into the office but before anything he moved to close the door a bit with a awkward chuckle.

"No, it's fine I know her Dad, I'll just give it to him" he replied.

He knows my dad?!

"Oh, alright then. I will be sure to send her down when I find her then" the woman said cheerfully before I heard her heels clacking down the hall.

The door shut and silence filled the room.

#negan #the walking dead #negan smith #coach negan #twd #twd smut #smut #lemon #tumblr fyp #negan smut #coach negan smut

[annoyingvoidzombie]

Heartstopper 2x01 Family:

Oh shit, parent teacher meet.. everyone is being well students but Charlie is very much "distracted" with other things (Nick Nick Nick)

Loving seeing papa Spring speaks Spanish

You Need To Start Focusing On Your Schoolwork Charlie baby

The Spring's are very not Nick's favourite fans now days

I Love Nellie Nelson

David, so if we'll wait long enough, Nick's going to look sorta like this "rockstar trash"?

Nick isn't comfortable with him and it's shown, how dare you take his Nintendo?

Nothing like drumming to not do your school work huh Charlie?

Obviously, texting your bf is always fun.. "the universe is pulling us apart" well, not in this life time it won't

Running together to Paris with Nellie, now that's a dream we can share my Narlie friends ❤️

Sharing is caring 😔

Imogen and Ben? Now that's seems kind of toxic, don't play with my baby's heart please

P-R-O-M-!

Elle x Tao is not even a slow burn, just burns

I remember taking those damn GCSE's and it was very dreadful

Holding eachother through a pen

Ben is hopelessly in love with Charlie

David kinda trying be a big bro but no, he has his intentions .. and know he knows about "Charlie"

Why in hell dose Charlie needs your approval men? Why?

This hug is everything, I know it's like only few days since last they hugged or saw eachother but my poor gay heart

Jumper, he gave him his jumper, it's basically like giving him an organ

Nellie is so pretty and they play so beautifully and its all your world now, no wonder you want to capture it Nicky boy

They kiss and the world spins once more and wow, they've learned to get in sync which is perfect

Paradise indeed

Wow Elle, you look beautiful ❤️

Elle new friends group seems fun and she's very fitting as always, perfect

Tao's mum is an Elle x Tao shipper, I call it like I see it

Imogen is so very bubbly sometimes wow but don't hurt her Nick! Although you're just trying to protect her

Oh shit, Math, I Felt the very same when I took it

Charlie comes by, that won't end well but the hug and small lift up is so cute

Elle's mum also a shipper "Your Boy" you know it mama

Tao pushing forward but Elle just pull backwards.. it hurts seeing them as that when you knoww but they don't know

Narlie and Nellie cuddles

Since when nice cup of tea makes you an old man?

David, you bitch, stay away from Charlie, he's the sweetest cinnamon roll you'll meet so fuck off!

Oh snap, Nick is out once more but not the way he would like

Fuck off David! Fuck off

You're upsetting Nellie and that's the line! Stop it!

Charlie.. it's not your fault

No Paris?? Noooo

Charlie ED is showing and I feel triggered as shit but deep breaths, I'm okay

At least they'll always have eachother texting

Wowww that's a nice body here Nick, thank you rugby !

He recorded to him.. it's new and it's so very from the heart

It's not easy to come out and we all know that

Tao is so worried for his heart and upset and he doesn't know why.. that so hard

Mama Xu is the best!

Oh Tao baby, finally, the REALISATION! now .. what you gonna do about it??

#heartstopper series #heartstopper spoilers #heartstopper season 2 #heartstopper 2x02 #netflix heartstopper #heartstopper #nick x charlie #nick nelson #charlie spring #nellie nelson #tao x elle #elle argent #tao xu #issac henderson #tara x darcy #darcy olsson #tara jones #narlie #heartstopper thoughts #imogen heaney #ben hope #heartstopper cast #kit connor #joe locke #alice oseman

[phoenixwatchesmovies]

2023 Favorites

I'm kinda glad I was keeping track of what I watched, in retrospect, because looking back over my posts this year, I realized I forgot about a lot of stuff. XD After looking over the recaps and excluding rewatches, here's my top ten New Stuff I Watched for 2023:

10. Cabinet Of Curiosities

Bizarre nightmares unfold in eight tales of terror in a visually stunning, spine-tingling horror collection curated by Guillermo del Toro.

If GDT is your guy, give this a watch. Creature features, cursed objects, aliens, you name it. 8/8 tentacled eldritch abominations.

9. Wolf Creek

Three backpackers stranded in the Australian outback are plunged inside a hellish nightmare of insufferable torture by a sadistic psychopathic local.

Holy shit, this was intense. And as I said initially, so mean. If you're into Texas Chainsaw Massacre, try this. I'm into franchise bingo, so I'm going to look into the sequels and TV series. 3/3 heads on a stick.

8. Requiem For A Dream

The drug-induced utopias of four Coney Island people are shattered when their addictions run deep.

I get the feeling this is one of those that hurts so much more on rewatching, so there's that to look forward to. I've also rarely seen movies that do so much harmonizing between the music and the visuals, and it was so satisfying. 4/4 refrigerator jump scares.

7. Evil Dead Rise

A twisted tale of two estranged sisters whose reunion is cut short by the rise of flesh-possessing demons, thrusting them into a primal battle for survival as they face the most nightmarish version of family imaginable.

This was probably the most fun I had with a horror movie all year, TBH. Horror exploring family dynamics will always be a fave, and this brought plenty of fresh stuff to the franchise while also holding onto the core traits. 5/5 Staffenies.

6. Dungeons and Dragons: Honor Among Thieves

A charming thief and a band of unlikely adventurers embark on an epic quest to retrieve a lost relic, but things go dangerously awry when they run afoul of the wrong people.

This was the most fun I had watching a movie all year, period. If you know nothing about DND, it's a good fantasy movie. If you're a DND nerd, the game mechanics are baked into it. If you're a fan of found families, guess what! 6/6 stealth checks.

5. Cowboy Bebop

A ragtag crew of bounty hunters chases down the galaxy's most dangerous criminals. They'll save the world--for the right price.

I got exactly what I wanted out of this, so haters be damned. The anime is a masterpiece and a classic, but if you're not in the mood for the existentialism and other heavier themes, here ya go. 3/3 shower-bath-showers.

4. The Black Phone

After being abducted by a child killer and locked in a soundproof basement, a 13-year-old boy starts receiving calls on a disconnected phone from the killer's previous victims.

Near perfect, as far as I'm concerned. The older I get, the more kids-in-danger as a concept fucks with me, making this the most stressful movie I watched this year (though It Chapter One gave it a run for its money, and I still think they would make a great double feature). 5/5 black balloons.

3. Evil Dead (2013)

Five friends head to a remote cabin, where the discovery of a Book of the Dead leads them to unwittingly summon up demons living in the nearby woods.

It's gnarly. It's badass. I almost puked. I had THE BEST time. The story works as an effective allegory, the effects are gruesomely awesome, and the finale is metal af. Plain and simple. 70,000/70,000 gallons of fake blood.

2. The Crow

A man brutally murdered comes back to life as an undead avenger of his and his fiancée's murder.

Beautiful, sad, aesthetic for days, hella good soundtrack. *chef kiss* I still haven't seen The Batman, but they seem visually similar, so if you like that, you'll probably like this. For more in-depth thoughts, read my post. 1/1 epic rooftop guitar solos.

1. The Fall Of The House Of Usher

To secure their fortune (and future) two ruthless siblings build a family dynasty that begins to crumble when their heirs mysteriously die, one by one.

Not just a new favorite Mike Flanagan. A new favorite in general, and my number one for the year. I just screamed about this one last month, and I don't have anything more to add. I've seen Succession comparisons, and while I have no idea how accurate that is, there's my "if you like that, here's this." Holy crap. 7/7 deadly sins personified.

Happy New Year! 🥂

#yearly round up #watch a thon 2023 #tfothou #the crow 1994 #evil dead 2013 #the black phone #cowboy bebop netflix #dnd honor among thieves #evil dead rise #requiem for a dream #wolf creek #guillermo del toro's cabinet of curiosities

[its-me89]

Pov: You had a contract with Val and were always his favorite but Alastor freed you and you had the time of your life... until he disappeared and Val took you back again.

Warning: insults, manipulation, choking, hooking and threats

English is not my first language so please don't get upset :))

____________________________

"Move your ass faster, looks like we have time?" Velvet yelled at the models and when she saw you she waved you over to her "Y/n, Valentino wants to see you upstairs immediately!!" you nodded and carefully walked towards the elevator. “please don’t let him be angry” you hope quietly.

you noticed that his servants who always stood at his door were gone... now you were scared and just as you were about to knock you heard Vox's voice "That fucker is back!" Val also said "Yeah, I thought he was gone for good too." You tilted your head as you placed your hands and ears against the door to hear more..

"Its been seven years!" Vox complained "You still pissed he almost beat you that time?" Val smirked "Uh, fuck you." "just saying" you heard Val grin "Things have changed a lot since he left town" Vox got a little louder "That's for sure." Valentino moved forward the Door "I got to send a message from who's really in charge of things now." now everything became clear to you

He is back..

“Y/n you can come in if you’re listening” your eyes widened as you carefully pushed the door open and looked inside.

"Ah, my beautiful whore.. come here" Val pulled you onto his lap and licked your neck. "Did you hear that our old friend is back?" his grip on my arm became tighter "You're not leaving us again, are you, my dear?" his hand went to your neck and squeezed it.

"No.. Valentino" your voice cracked "that's my good girl" Vox paced around the room as he made his hands into fists "I have to do something about him before he goes too far again!" Just before he left the room he turned around again "come to my room tonight Y/n" and so he left the room.

You sat in your room and watched the breaking news from Vox hoping to see him, but when Valentino had a new customer for you you were about to switch off until you heard his voice.

"Salutations Good to be back on the air"

Your breathing stopped and tears threatened to escape “Y/N!!” Val screamed your Name, so you turned off the TV, wiped away your tears and went to him.

Pov Vox:

"I'm afraid you've lost your signal." Now Vox sat completely in the dark and could only hear his voice.

"Lets Begin... i'm gonna make you Wish that i'd stayed gone.. Tune on in.. When im done, Your Status quo Will know its race is run~ and i get my Y/n back.. Oh this will be fun." He laughed and Vox looked at the many monitors that said "no signal" and swore loudly "FUUCCKKK"

Later

You sit in Vox's room and wait for him. When he came in you noticed that the mood wasn't exactly good and you shifted a little uncomfortably in your seat, as he came towards you and loosened his tie a little "My sweet sweet Y/n" he gently stroked her cheek "Can you please tell me why Alastor is back?" your lips parted "I-I don't know" his grip tightened a little "did you know he wanted you back?" he let go of you and poured himself a whiskey.

"But that won't happen" he took a sip and Chuckle "You belong to me... you may have a contract with Valentino but I'm the only one who can fuck you so well that you'll go crazy for me" your breath was shaking as you looked up at him "Vox I-" "be quiet" he put the glass away and stood in front of you "you will never see him again understand? I want you to forget him, do you understand me?" his eyes glowed red and he pulled my hair back. “Do you understand me?”

...

"Y-Yes Vox"

You woke up late at night next to him, you could barely feel your body anymore as you quietly tiptoed into your room. When you arrived you looked, in your mirror to see all the bruises.

"My my... what did they do to my beautiful girl?" Alastor stood behind you

you thought you were dreaming

"Look at you, my love... soiled by those who took you from me"

as he stood behind you he gently touched your hair.

"Alastor.." you whisper his name and he stopped his movement, his gaze reflected in the mirror and you looked at him.

"It's terrible here, why did you leave me here alone?" Tears rolled from your eyes

"Ah ah don't cry Y/n.. I'll get you out of here.. just be patient yeah? they'll pay for everything" he started glitching but went back to normal when you turned around to hug him, he patted your back gently.

"Darling, go to sleep now.. I'll take care of you" he lifted your chin "Soon we will be together again" he placed his forehead on yours and disappeared into the darkness.

#alastor #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #valentino #hazbin hotel vox

[solarisgod]

| YOUR DEATH DISTURBS THE NATURAL ORDER , STARRY ONE .

 Astereus opens their eyes to find a skeleton ahead in black veil , Its fleshless hands bearing bundles of flowers , a detail more softer than everything else about It . Despite the jarring appearance It holds , they only walk closer to It , unafraid like It is an old friend . It feels familiar . ❝ We apologize , Death , ❞ they reply softly , their voices in multitude from Micah , Phoebus , Philos , Phobos , Cryael ⅋ more ; all echoing across the realm of kind whiteness . ❝ Love is the most violent thing to exist . We died because of Love . ❞ Adoniram .

| ⅋ WOULD YOU DO IT AGAIN FOR LOVE ?

 ❝ Yes , ❞ Micah answers ⅋ takes the flowers from Death . They hold them close to their chest , their heart ─ their bleeding neck ─ they deeply breathe . ❝ We would want to die for love . ❞ Out of love . in love . We always have wanted to die / love . This is what happens when we weren't raised with enough love since the beginning of our life . We become unendurable . Do you understand ?

| YET , FOR LOVE OR OTHERWISE , YOU WILL KILL EVERYONE IF YOU CONTINUE TO DISTURB THE NATURAL ORDER LIKE THIS .

 Phobos scoffs , its amused sound devolving to sickened laughter . irony sings terribly from the great raging star . ❝ Many people wanted to kill us since we were a child . It's only fair to least give them a fright . ❞ Reality shivers . They smile at Death , bright , Philos attempting to assure It , then . ❝ But , don't you worry , Deathie , we'll try to be better at living . . . if those people can give us a fucking BREAK ! ❞ Micah flinches at the burst of their aggression , fiddling with the petals . ❝ As unsettling as it is for me to say , our death opens an opportunity to ask you if you are familiar with the Godtellers ? ❞ The veiled skeleton tenses at the inquiry .

| THE WORSTS OF ALL . THEY ARE LIKE FORCES OR DEITIES AS YOU ⅋ I , BUT THEY INFLUENCE EVERYTHING / EVERYONE / EVERYWHERE FOR THE SIMPLE SAKE OF STORYTELLING . NO ONE CAN EVER GO AGAINST THEM , NOT EVEN LIFE ITSELF .

 Cryael nods while they recall Lux sharing how the Breaker is controlling the shadows ⅋ reflections to take over humanity . It may cooperate with the Infernal infinity , but in the end , it is serving the Godtellers who thrive in chaos ⅋ conflicts . ❝ What if we want to meet one not to confront , but negotiate ? ❞ it questions Death along with Micah ⅋ Phoebus .

| TO MEET A GODTELLER IS LIKE MEETING ME . THERE ARE NO NEGOTIATIONS OR CONFRONTATIONS WITH GODTELLERS . YOU EITHER LIVE WITH THEM OR DIE BY THEM . THAT'S ALL I WILL SAY ABOUT THEM FOR YOUR OWN SAKE .

 ❝ We'd rather face more pain than to let them play so freely , ❞ Micah shares the thought with Cryael . Phoebus inhales sharply , but says no more . They believe the Godtellers are the sources of the Metaeide . These spiritual beings created after individuals' fears , traumas ⅋ negative emotions ; they are linked to the Godtellers . The Godtellers are the narrators of the narratives that influence lives . The Metaeide are the pieces of the narratives that haunt their respective sources .

| IF YOU INSIST . THE MORE YOU DIE BEFORE YOU'D REVIVE , YOU'LL LOSE MORE OF YOURSELF ⅋ THOSE AROUND YOU . THIS IS MY FIRST ⅋ FINAL WARNING , ASTRIFER . NOW , RETURN TO THE WORLD . YOUR TIME MUST GO FORWARD .

 The portal of the In Between realm of Life ⅋ Afterlife opens . Astrifer nods , but before they leave , Micah looks back at Death . ❝ One more question : Is my friend , Byte , happy ? ❞ Barely , Death smiles .

| BYTEBITE ( @mordcode ) IS SO , AS XE IS PROUD OF YOU .

 In tears , they thank It , then enter the portal before them , returning in wild determination to live with more fury . Everyone will wish they would remain dead .

#ASK TO TAG CW #/// #// #/ #𓁹 ༑ ࿐ྂ ⩇⩇ : ⩇⩇ ⚠︎ [ 𝙴𝚇𝙸(𝚂)𝚃 : 𝙶𝙾𝙳 ] * ‹ DEATH . › #𓁹 ༑ ࿐ྂ ⩇⩇ : ⩇⩇ ⚠︎ [ 𝙴𝚇𝙸(𝚂)𝚃 : 𝙶𝙾𝙳 ] * ‹ DRABBLES . › #𓁹 ༑ ࿐ྂ ⩇⩇ : ⩇⩇ ⚠︎ [ 𝙴𝚇𝙸(𝚂)𝚃 : 𝙶𝙾𝙳 ] * ‹ WORLDBUILDING . › #𓁹 ༑ ࿐ྂ ⩇⩇ : ⩇⩇ ⚠︎ [ 𝙴𝚇𝙸(𝚂)𝚃 : 𝙶𝙾𝙳 ] * ‹ V : MAIN / ACT I.VI. . › #𓁹 ༑ ࿐ྂ ⩇⩇ : ⩇⩇ ⚠︎ [ 𝙴𝚇𝙸(𝚂)𝚃 : 𝙶𝙾𝙳 ] * ‹ ASTEREUS . ›

[luckydragon10]

P&P Chapter 43

(Chapters 41 and 42)

Chapter 43 looks chonky, so I'm gonna do just one this time.

Score check:

Lizzy is down to +10.

Mr. Darcy continues to hold at -15.

BTW, I've decided to start considering this my sentimeter, or measurement of sentiment.

~~~

Chapter 43

“And of this place,” thought she, “I might have been mistress!"

Definitely sounding young and her age here. Silly child. Best to make sure you like the husband that comes attached with the house.

Mr. Gardiner, whose manners were very easy and pleasant, encouraged her communicativeness by his questions and remarks; 

The uncle exists! And can speak!

Mrs. Reynolds: “Yes, sir; but I do not know when that will be. I do not know who is good enough for him.”

I like Mrs. Reynolds. Potential new side blorbo.

Elizabeth almost stared at her. “Can this be Mr. Darcy?” thought she.

Child. Judge others by how they treat people who are working, not by how they treat their peers and friends.

This feels like less a tour of the house than it is a tour of Mr. Darcy's real personality and motivations.

Something something something house as metaphor for real self.

What praise is more valuable than the praise of an intelligent servant?

Theeeeere we go. Good girl.

Every idea that had been brought forward by the housekeeper was favourable to his character, and as she stood before the canvas on which he was represented, and fixed his eyes upon herself, she thought of his regard with a deeper sentiment of gratitude than it had ever raised before; she remembered its warmth, and softened its impropriety of expression.

Mmm, in some ways this isn't very fun to me? She seems to be softening and coming to like (love?) Mr. Darcy not by interactions with him but vicariously through other people's regard, and through her vanity at the idea that such an esteemed person was romantically interested in her. Eeehhh.

...her uncle and aunt stopped also, and while the former was conjecturing as to the date of the building, the owner of it himself suddenly came forward from the road, which led behind it to the stables.

Yep, knew this would happen, just wasn't sure when it would happen.

Amazed at the alteration of his manner since they last parted, every sentence that he uttered was increasing her embarrassment; and every idea of the impropriety of her being found there recurring to her mind, the few minutes in which they continued were some of the most uncomfortable in her life.

The fact that none of this is written in dialogue is very frustrating. It seems like such an important meeting, and I can't tell what's being said.

(Mr. Darcy) At length every idea seemed to fail him; and, after standing a few moments without saying a word, he suddenly recollected himself, and took leave.

You wonderfully awkward potato. I'm going to give you 5 points for character consistency and for being damn funny. Maybe you'll get out of negative digits someday.

Oh wait. I still don't like the way you fucked Jane over. You're cute, but I will remember that.

Whilst wandering on in this slow manner, they were again surprised, and Elizabeth’s astonishment was quite equal to what it had been at first, by the sight of Mr. Darcy approaching them, and at no great distance. 

He's like a whack-a-mole game. He just keeps popping up.

It was consoling that he should know she had some relations for whom there was no need to blush. She listened most attentively to all that passed between them, and gloried in every expression, every sentence of her uncle, which marked his intelligence, his taste, or his good manners.

I'm still in disagreement with Lizzy about family matters.

More of Lizzy being willfully blind about Mr. Darcy's regard... same old, same old.

It originated in Mrs. Gardiner, who, fatigued by the exercise of the morning, found Elizabeth’s arm inadequate to her support, and consequently preferred her husband’s. 

Mrs. Gardener needed no such thing. She knows what's up better than Lizzy does.

Mr. Darcy: “There is also one other person in the party,” he continued after a pause, “who more particularly wishes to be known to you. Will you allow me, or do I ask too much, to introduce my sister to your acquaintance during your stay at Lambton?”

This man needs help. Cart him off. He's insane.

“But perhaps he may be a little whimsical in his civilities,” replied her uncle.

Whimsical? That's an understatement. He's a damn fucking unicorn is what he is. Very skittish, doesn't warm up easily.

In confirmation of this, she related the particulars of all the pecuniary transactions in which they had been connected, without actually naming her authority, but stating it to be such as might be relied on.

Lizzy. Your secret-keeping powers are SHIT.

(Chapters 44 and 45)

#nemi reads p&p #pride and predujice #chapter 43

[myceliumtoaster]

Terrariums actually work??

I'm so excited cause today I opened up my little terrarium to check on the moss inside and I saw not one but THREE little guys!! Two teeny tiny snails alongside what I suspect is a silk worm!! I've been watering the moss with full moon water every once and a while and am happy to see that the fellas are thriving :)

The moss was originally from my backyard, it got kicked up when the landscapers came by so I grabbed the whole chunk, thinking I should rehome it since it was misplaced. I did a little research online into terrariums and found out moss is pretty easy to take care of! It doesn't need much light, should be watered or misted lightly twice a week, and that's about it. Grows and spreads on its own. It doesn't have a root system, which means it can grow on pretty much anything too!! That's why you'll commonly see it on rocks and in between cracks in the pavement. And that’s why it was still alive even though it had been displaced by the landscapers. I knew it was my time to shine! I’m a big fan of wildlife rehab, I love helping out the environment!

So I set to work getting materials for the terrarium, and then as I was putting everything in I discovered a tiny little snail on the underbelly of the moss! I had no idea at that time if it was still alive after what the landscapers had done, so I carefully put the whole chunk in the jar and gave him my best wishes.

It turns out there was at least three (and counting) in there this whole time!! And they're all alive and having a blast exploring the jar.

Who knew making a terrarium could bring me so much joy?? It gives me something to look forward to, and helps me remember to take care of myself cause I'm just a little guy too!

Below I included a general how-to for moss terrariums!! From the mouth of a green witch, so keep in mind that everyone has different views! Feel free to take my opinion with a grain of salt. And please do your own research for the sake of whatever little guys and plants you wish to take care of :)

☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

To make:

1. Get yourself a clean mason jar. I decided to use a dollar store brand one I had previously used to hold moon water. It felt right! Make sure to rinse it out very well, any leftover soap can harm the life you'll be rehoming, so please be careful!

2. Plants and animals alike need certain nutrients to survive! The base of the terrarium was a few different layers of stuff. The first was about an inch of flat pebbles and stones, to help with drainage. Mason jars don't have holes for drainage, so the goal is to let the excess water collect in the spaces between the stones at the bottom, as far as I know. I'm a bit of a crow so I chose mostly based on look and feel, I'm a fan of pretty rocks. I stole these from around my yard. We've got some good gravel around here.

The next layer was about an inch of fine charcoal. It's rich in carbon and real good for plants. I took this right out of the fire pit in the backyard. My partner explained to me that the super shiny bits of charcoal that collect in the hottest bits of the fire are the ones that are almost pure carbon, and most people don't know that you can get the stuff right from fireplaces. Yeah, that shit in the face masks? It's practically free if you've got a fire pit. I had no idea it was as easy as having a bonfire. You would've thought with all the minecraft I would've caught on sooner. Anyhow it's so light and brittle that you can crumble it with your fingers, you don't even need a mortar and pestle. So we spent like 5-10 mins and had a blast crumbling up the charcoal, and slowly filling the terrarium. It does get all over your hands, but it’s a good texture imo.

The last layer is regular old dirt. Two inches of it to top things off. I got this (as you can probably guess) from my backyard. Again the landscapers had just been there, and they had aerated the dirt, so it was up for grabs in my eyes. They had fucked with my moss. I love my moss.

3. Then you can decorate the surface. I grabbed a couple more of the flat stones and arranged them in a way that felt right, then grabbed a medium sized twig and placed it diagonal across the terrarium. Small guys like snails and tiny insects like to climb and explore, so it's good to have something climeable like a stick or chunk of bark. Keep an eye on it though, if it starts to rot you should replace it. Be careful when disposing of anything from the terrarium, as there may be guys! I saw both snails getting good use of the stick today, they seem to love it so far! The worm looking guy was vibing in the moss mostly, and burrowed when I watered today so I haven’t seen much of him!

4. Lastly it's moss time! Start by giving the jar a good mist, and then you can start moving your moss in. If you're foraging for moss anywhere besides your backyard, please only take what you need (moss spreads easily so you only need a small chunk, maybe an inch or two wide + long), and ask the local spirits if it's okay to take it first. They may direct you towards something they’d prefer you to take, or ask you not to take anything at all. This is total UPG but my general rule with this is that if it's your first time visiting somewhere, you should introduce yourself and get to know the land before taking anything. It's just like getting to know a new friend, you don't go asking for a favor immediately. So for this project, it's best to forage for moss in a place you know pretty well.

Like I said before, moss doesn't have a root system! So it can grow on pretty much anything. It typically prefers light sun to shady conditions, and a light mist twice a week. If it feels completely dry to the touch, it's time to water. But this isn't it's only warning system. It can dry up even further and turn a shade of brown, and even then there's a chance to revive it. Moss is very resilient!!

When adding to your terrarium, you can either press the moss into the dirt or onto the stones lightly with your fingers, or using tweezers. Be sure to check the moss for little guys before doing so! It's safe to break it up into smaller chunks if no one's home, but otherwise, you should try to put it down in one go.

5. Once the moss is down, water twice weekly, preferably via a spray bottle. If one is not available, you can poke tiny holes in a water bottle cap and tip the bottle upside down to water. You can even give it a light squeeze, but try to aim for the sides of the jar so that the water doesn’t displace any guys. That's what I've been doing and it's been working pretty well!!

You can either poke tiny holes in the lid of the mason jar, and/or keep it very lightly screwed on so that there’s still some air flow. I’ve heard that true terrariums should be able to be sealed but I don’t hold myself to that standard, I’m new to this shit! I leave my cap unpoked and unscrewed, just lightly placed on top of the jar. None of the guys are big enough to displace the tin cap, so I deemed it safe enough. Anyways thanks for reading, if anyone has any questions I’m happy to answer to the best of my knowledge!

Happy moss growing and guy watching :)

#mycelium to aster #terrarium #taking care of moss #and little guys #snails

[striving-to-be]

sometimes, i sit in boredom and i summon excitement. i think about how i get to try new things. how im in a city of my own choosing. an intern, busy enough to be useful and yet, not quite bogged down by the thought that this is the rest of your life.

and still. the first week was enough for me to know that 6am showers and 1 hour commutes and days ending at 9pm wasn't for me. at least, i know i need something more.

it's not quite about the productivity of my working day. maybe its more about what i do. but it's equally about what i do after.

capitalism hasn't made a workaholic of me, yet. somehow, it rewoke the urge to fill my life with things. a maximalist.

beginner size two skates. burnt rice. coffee at 9 pm because that's when your friend get's access to her mom's car. joining a curling club. hot chocolate and granola with preteens.

tutoring during the week. PD courses speed written. linkedin coffee chats. phone calls after work. snaps back and forth throughout the workday.

and yet i want more. something just for me. friday night ultimate, perhaps? or maybe volunteering.

and sometimes im scared and nervous and alone. and then i think about how, in the middle of finals, this is what i was looking forward to. the light at the end of the tunnel. being in a city, all by myself. the space that comes with living on your own. the quietness of your living area when you want it so. the way you know exactly what you're walking into. the way you get to set the mood for your day. the realization that yes, you are truly on your own. you have been, of course, all your life. but now, for the first time perhaps, you can feel it.

my friend back home. she called when i first moved, to remind me. 'how exciting is it? one day, you'll look back and say, 'when i was in ottawa...for work, yeah'. this is what we've been dreaming about.

skating. hockey. stand-up. cooking, midnight chai with that friend, who you weren't that close with, but now you're in the same city, and proximity makes friends of us all. reconnecting with old friends, and thinking, huh maybe i was better off. asking yourself, is this flirting?? whispered voice messages to that friend, you know which one, saying. 'i dont think this is good for me', 'i don't think i am ready', 'what's the point of dating if it's not going to be long term?'.

and hearing, after a beat, 'you sound happy'.

and then, realizing. it truly is not that deep. you can just choose to live life on easy. turn up the music when the bus is late. turn up the music when the bus doesn't show up at all, and why not just walk? dress warmly, always. check the weather, but of course wind chill makes a fool of us all. somehow almost two decades into this thing you call life you still don't quite get how its never been colder in -10C weather.

realizing that dating isn't that deep. that you really did put a high expectation on dating. and how serious and long term and perfect and committed it would be. and of course, a pat on the back for not jumping in. because, even though you didn't realize those were some high hopes to put on a partner, that you were more idealist than you thought, you knew that you weren't in a place where dating was for you. because you weren't quite done with forging your life. and though you were only a year in, and fucked up a little every day, you found you quite liked forging your own life. and you weren't ready to stop. but why should it? i think i get it a little more now, dating isn't about sharing your life with them. well at least not quite yet. it's going to be about making your own lives. and finding space in it for each other. i don't know if i can do that. i don't know if i want to.

but i think i get it a little more now. life's in the journey.

#poetry #thoughts #writeblr #writing #get it out #gay #wlw #lesbian #queer #moments #rants n rambles #a day in the life #reflection #online diary #friendship #friends #dating #20s #life in your 20s #dating in your 20s #proud canadian #canadians being awesome #getting it out of my system #hit me up #open dms #lets be friends

[suicideandcheese]

Deep Breaths, None Left

There was the intention of angels. You were all born. How they all wished you Good luck. And that was all It ever was, was you. I hope you burn Your life forward like some great depth Not meant to ever live, but to survive its crests. The abyss was meant to live through. I survive. You die enough times, look at your eyes. Your face is forever and the mirror but a puzzle. Those times you felt gods pick you up again. Through and through, do, you do anew. Your new Tears are just your last lives. When she tells you a joke and you're high again. I'll love you into whatever I can. Meaning is us, and soup, and cats again. There are worlds out there I wish to be none of. Just this is enough, never enough, you're all of my loves. Some hope on the horizon, my demons see the sun is seizing. I look forward to bread with you. I look forward to water. You settle me beyond my worst tempests. You settle me like An alcohol can be sobering, gods in radios, lovers in truths. I'll stand with you till we die through the times. Those tears can roll down my chest. When the only animals cry and the old forests burn I feel you fucken die. I feel you to my devils And back. I got your back, babe. Let it learn To repair itself, same way we do. Nature Kisses you on the lips, and to know what you are– Terrestrial and truly, some love-truth, spirit-form Anyhow, always-known. I get you. Enough to kiss Back. I want you in all my lives. Feline and forever. I'll die every form to forget you and here I am. This constant of universe, yours, yours, pouring out In ever-verse, yours. Crying to the cosmos. Your silly Fuck, the words endeared to prayer. Necessary beauty Comes full circle, immediately enso. You'll feel me to ruins.

#poetry #poem #writing #free verse #one for cherry #lovers unite #the lovers #cosmic adoration #eternals #spilled ink #poets on tumblr #writers on tumblr #words to fuck by #things I say when I'm alive #poems #writers #whatevers #yours truly

[luxmaeastra]

Sebastian watched the boy move across the outskirts of the tenaments. He looked to Andulvar and Rhain, watching Athril and Grimsen toy with some copper wiring.

"Whose is that?"

Rhain turned to watch who he was pointing at. It was Andulvar who answered, snorting.

"Cyrus."

"And we don't invite him to eat with us because?"

"He's a half-breed."

"So?"

Andulvar sneered at Sebastian who didn't flinch at the look.

"So he's useless. He likes to tell everyone he has some Winter royal blood. As if the soft Valg in Prythian hold any teeth to ones bred here."

The gaze Andulvar gave Sebastian was pointed. He ignored it and went back to his food.

------

Cyrus flinched back, scrambling to slip back into the cardboard den he'd made.

"I didn't mean to -"

"Do you have magic?"

Cyrus stilled and peered out at Sebastian.

"My Mama did. Why?"

"Sebastian lunged dragging him out of the cardboard and pinning him in the dirty puddle. Cyrus didn't stop him, he had been beaten down. Sebastian saw those Valg again, soulless as they'd cut his parents down.

They hadn't even taken any joy in just done the order. Was that what Cyrus would become if he wasn't helped?

"Do you Cyrus?"

He flicked at the name before he shrugged. He spat water trying to look at Sebastian.

"Don't know! Mama - it - it stopped working after my Mama. The fuck you care?"

Sebastian dragged him to his feet letting him go. He held his hand out to him, lighting curling in it. Cyrus flinched back, as if he'd been hit.

"I want to train you. You have Prythian blood, so do I."

"That the only reason?"

Cyrus rubbed at his wrists, Sebastian saw old scars, like manacles. What had he gone through that he seemed content to be seen as vermain here?

Sebastian looked to the other boy, raising his chin. He stepped toward him, pleased that Cyrus didn't flinch this time.

"Someone attacked the High Court of Prythian. My family, the Prin - the princesses are dead. I want support, I want to build an army. I want to make them pay. Do you want to help me?"

Cyrus slid his eyes around him, taking the desolate street, the cold night.

"I want to be your second."

His eyes hard as he looked to Sebastian.

"I want to make them pay. They took my brothers and sister. My Mama tried to stop them, but they were still sold. I want Winter to remember the family they turned their back on."

Sebastian spit in his hand holding it out, Cyrus did the same their hands shaking. A oath of Breath, mailable and able to be broken. Valg children weren't able to make Blood Oaths, the very magic would kill them to try.

------

Sebastian smiled up at Natalia, trying to reach for her bracelet again.

"Let me see!"

"No! You'll break -"

"Sebastian."

Sebastian turned, sitting up. He forced himself to sit next to her. They had taken to sitting in the Lunarium, the moonlight showed different phases of the stars and moon. And in the Wyrdmarks he was reading he could see the stories of Nyx and his the lineage that Nessanyn claimed to inherit.

"Yes Sir?"

Neculai leaned back on the wall, his cane in his hand. A jagged thing, made of Daglan bone and wyrdstone. Sebastian was itching to hold it, to ask if it was true that it had been a blade before remade into this.

"Tell me of Cyrus. Noelle is infactuated with him."

"He's good Sir. I - I knew he was courting her. Natalia nor I would have allowed it if we thought it baseless. I trust him with my life."

Neculai's dark eyes glittered and he titled his head looking to Natalia.

"Do you trust him around Noelle Natalia?"

Her smile slipped as her attention rose to her grandfather when he had addressed Sebastian, her focus shifting between the two males as she shifted forward in the seat she had been lounging in. Honestly, she was not surprised that he had come to find them, especially if this was not about what she had assumed.

It was. The moment he uttered Cyrus’s name she sat up a little straight, the sense of protectiveness raised its head as she wanted to do nothing more than to bite that it was nothing to do with them. Noelle was her own person, she had her right to her heart and deciding where it lay.

She felt a sense of pride in Sebastian knowing that he was standing up for his friend, knowing he wasn’t going to his Neculai scare him.

“You asked Sebastian about Cyrus, is his answer not good enough for you?” She countered before she rose to a stand. Her hand rested upon her lip, a lack of amusement filled her face as she tilted her head to mirror him.

“I trust my sister to know what is right for her, to know what she wants. I also trust that my sister will know how to put an end to a male who is not worthy of her. So, if Cyrus is still standing, that should give you your answer.”

#Muse | Natalia

[weirdoofoz]

There was something odd about how adults treated me when I was a kid. There was an assumption of innocence that simply wasn't accurate in my case. The truth is that there is an evil that adults are aware of that children are completely blind to, a banal evil, an evil that I really was completely unaware of back then. I had seen evil though, evil was cruel, and distrustful, and selfish, and it hurt. It was an evil that stood like a large man and rended flesh from flesh, with claws like lions, and deep dark eyes burning hot with the desire to take, hurt, maim and kill. I knew this evil well as a child. Possibly the most frustrating thing about him is that no matter how tall he stood in his moments of arrogance, as soon as there was anyone around who could protect me from him, banish him, he always found a way to hide. He never got caught, and thus I lost my innocence.

I've grown up now, I stand as tall as he does. He whimpers in my presence. I have created a life for myself where I can protect myself from this old evil. I was excited to enjoy a life without his antagonism, I genuinely looked forward to freedom from it, and it really is freedom. I have freedom coming out of my ears these days.

Disappointingly I became an adult and now I face the evil that every adult faces. There's a camaraderie in facing it, a shared experience that really does exclude children oddly enough. It's hard to place my finger on it really, this banal evil, it's so overbearing, that it often feels like it's barely there. It stands as tall as mountains, with hands like clubs, an indecipherable concrete hulk swaying in the wind. If you look hard enough you'll find its piercing ivory white eyes, staring directly into your soul, beckoning you to struggle.

"Struggle, struggle with all your might, or you might end up painting my heels with your blood."

It doesn't need to chase anyone, which is really fucking boring if you ask me. It's mind numbing, and terrifying all at once. I much prefer a banal evil to the horrors I was witness to as a child, but it doesn't make me happy to have to choose at all. I was hoping for a life worth living.

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