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scientia-rex · 23 days

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I feel like disappointment in Biden is baffling to me because he was always a disappointment. He was the asshole who got to ride to power on the coattails of a better man. He told bizarre and repeated lies (despite getting caught at it and his team telling him not to) about having a Welsh coal miner dad when he did not and he stole that story from actual Welsh people. I read a profile of him years back that pointed this out and told the story of the time he straight up ignored good advice from an expert not to plant a certain kind of tree too close together and flew a bunch of them out to plant, at night because he was just too fucking excited about it, and they all died. He’s not a smart man! He’s charismatic ish and lacks principles and as far as I can tell doesn’t really care about abortion rights or a lot of things we’d consider pretty critical to preserving freedom. I sincerely thought he couldn’t become President because there were so many obviously better candidates in the pool. I underestimated the sexism and antisemitism in American politics, and when he became the candidate in 2020 I gritted my teeth and voted for him because the alternative was a man who is not only an idiot but also profoundly dangerous. Trump is not ha-ha crazy, he’s Mussolini crazy. He is not dangerous because he’s stupid, although that doesn’t help; he’s dangerous because he does not care about anyone except himself under any circumstances and if that means he lets the far right push us straight into forced birth for white women and sterilization for women of color he’s going to do that. If that means conversion therapy for queers and death penalty for homosexual acts he’s going to do that. He has literally no limits. If he gets back into power, a whole lot of people are going to die, again. It’s not a hypothetical because it happened the first time and he’s only going to get worse.

I am not, never have been, and never will be a fan of Biden. To pretend that he and Trump are in any way equivalent is wrong at best and another goddamn Russian psy-op at worst. To pretend that a third party candidacy is viable in the US is to completely ignore every election of your lifetime and your parents’ lifetimes, and to further ignore the lesson of Ross Perot.

You cannot save Palestinians by not voting for Biden in November; the best you can do is chip away at his margin, and the worst you can do is see Trump elected so he can decide to do the worst possible thing in ever circumstance. Biden has Palestinian blood on his hands and watching this when we could have had Bernie or Elizabeth Warren instead is maddening. (I would have preferred Hillary to Trump, but I don’t think she’d be any different than Biden here. They’re both old-school politicians.)

I hate everything about this, and I hate that saying “maybe don’t put the man who literally said he would kill his political enemies in power” is seen as supporting genocide. It’s acknowledging reality. Joe Biden as a person can eat rocks for all I care. I was kind of hoping he’d die sooner in his term so we’d have time to get used to and then vote for President Harris. (Remember when the line was “she’s a cop, don’t vote for her”? Funny how there’s always a reason not to vote for a woman or a person of color or someone you just “don’t like” and can’t put a finger on why except she “seems angry.” Oh does she. How would she not? When Michelle fucking Obama, the picture of grace , STILL got called angry for having the nerve to be a Black woman with an opinion? When Hillary Clinton lost to a man with no political experience to her decades and who openly discussed sexually assaulting women? Would you have voted for President Harris? Or would you let Trump win again because you don’t LIKE her personally and she’s made decisions and statements you disagree with?)

Biden has both less power than his critics give him credit for and more power than his fans give him credit for. He needs to do more to pressure Israel and although it’s a delicate diplomatic situation I’d rather see us fuck up our diplomatic relationship with Israel than watch more Palestinians get murdered for things like “wanting to eat” and “existing.” The line has been crossed, and he doesn’t see it. Because he wasn’t the best person for the job. Because they didn’t get elected, because of sexism/antisemitism/racism. Hell, I have no idea what bootlicker Pete Buttegieg would have done here, but I’d have given him a try. But no. We got Biden and we’re stuck with this reality where you can be as leftist as you want and still have to look at the situation and decide whether you’re comfortable contributing to a Trump victory through inaction. I want socialism—I want every single person on Earth to have clean drinking water, enough safe food, shelter, medical care, and education—and I’m going to vote for Biden, pissy as it makes me, because the only actual alternative is so, so much worse, for me personally as both a woman and a queer, and for everyone in America and the rest of the world who Trump would find reasons to hurt. What do you think the man who openly and repeatedly praises dictators is going to do when those dictators massacre their own people? Yes, we need to care about this genocide now. We also need to care about all of the other people who are at real risk, both at home and abroad. Would a Trump government agree to fund military intervention in Haiti without insisting on it being a colonial exercise in power? Would a Trump government roll back the restrictions on discriminating against transgender patients in healthcare? How would Trump respond if Orban started dragging people into the streets and shooting them en masse? How would Trump respond if China finally went for it and invaded Taiwan? There are more lives at stake here than mine or yours or even those of the Palestinians, who have deserved better for literally decades and are being mass killed in ways that should result in immediate sanctions, a war crimes trial, and the execution of Netanyahu.

The world deserves better from you than complicity in a Trump victory.

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headspace-hotel · 11 months

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kinda fascinated by how there appears to be two different firefly species in my back yard now. One is the normal fireflies everyone knows with the yellow glow, and the other seems a little bigger and has a green glow, giving three flashes in quick succession.

They hang out around the meadow a lot. No success in catching the green-glow fireflies though because they tend to fly a little higher and have longer intervals in between their three-flash displays.

I saw a couple bumble bees today too! I am just so happy because since i've been tending to the Meadow, it is so full of life. Every day I see something new I've never seen before.

I need to get out there and take some proper photos, lol. I took a photo of my yarrow earlier but I haven't really been documenting the progress in pictures and I probably should

the yarrow was just kinda yanked up from an existing vegetative colony on the side of the road and stuck in a pot, I have yet to kill any yarrow i've randomly pulled up. Ridiculously easy plant to propagate. The plant in the center foreground is some kind of pink aster (i got it from the edge of the pavement in my neighborhood) and in the background you can see beebalm (dad ordered from a website) white boneset (also kidnapped from the edge of the pavement) chicory (volunteered) broomsedge bluestem (volunteered) Joe-Pye weed (dad also ordered from a website) and there should be a goldenrod or two (volunteered)

I have the benefit of having blessing to dig up plants from work, but most of the plants in here were just sorta rescued from gravel or asphalt where they somehow managed to sprout.

I now have dozens of evening primroses that all came from one single evening primrose that I literally pulled out of a crack in the pavement on the side of the road, planted in a pot and then in my front yard flower bed where it bloomed gorgeously and made loads of seeds. (I pulled another one out of a pothole early this year and it's also thriving!)

On a street down the road, there is literally a thriving population of Ruellia growing in the seam of the pavement along the curb and I'm growing like 4 of them.

That street is also where I got the blue mistflower originally I think, in some gravel next to a drainage ditch. The blue mistflower ALSO went to seed and made at least 2 new seedlings in some dirt this spring, 30 feet away from where I originally planted them.

Also we got some random oxeye daisy volunteers this year? And morning glory? I'm wary of the morning glory (that shit can take over) but my mom likes it sooooo

You know what you should really learn to identify though? Sedges. You can just rip those suckers out of the ground they don't care. The other day I was at the park tearing sedges up from the gravel path and putting them in a baggie with a wet paper towel. Same park where I pulled my Wingstem last year! I'm going to get in trouble one of these days probably

Don't go ripping plants out of their habitat where they're happy, but if some poor seedling popped up in a pile of gravel, that's free plant baby!

#plants

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icallhimjoey · 1 month

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Explain Us

♥ ♥ Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: So, more than flatmates... but, what exactly? Would be fantastic if you would just, you know, talk about it. But communicating is not your strong suit and you're extremely certain that it's fine. Confusing and vague, but, fine.

CW / disclaimer: rpf, fem!reader, a continuation of define close, no need to read it to enjoy this, though it will help!, language

Author’s note: happy end or nah? HAPPY END OR NAH????

Wordcount: 4.6K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

You had to fix it.

Had to apologise and not leave it too long, because if you left it too long, you’d just leave it forever and then you’d never fucking sleep again.

“peperoni or chicken?” you texted, then waited.

It had been just over two hours since you’d walked out of Joe’s flat and you felt extremely stupid. It only got worse when you saw Joe had received and read the message, but then went offline again.

Left on read. Great.

“veg?”

Double grey checkmark.

“just cheese?”

No response.

So, pizza wasn’t the answer. What a crazy concept. It had been the exact right answer for a long time, but, for you. Sharing a pizza with Joe was his fix for you.

What could be Joe’s answer? What could be your fix for him? Your apology didn’t have to be huge. He’d moved out without a heads up, for fuck’s sake. You’d just knocked over a plant.

Oh.

A plant?

Yea. A plant. A big one. A big, green, nice leafy plant.

For in the corner. Or, wherever else Joe wanted to put it. He got to decide that for himself. You knew where it would go best, but, it wasn’t your flat, so you weren’t going to push your opinion. Not unless he asked. It would absolutely look best in that bit of dead space by the–

No.

His flat. His plant. His choice.

A big plant. A gift from you to him. Former flatmate to former flatmate. To be friendly and kind and normal.

To say sorry.

But, without words.

Joe could just accept the gesture and not mention it and then you could go back to normal. Or, well, find a new normal. That would be best.

People gave people plants for house warming gifts, didn’t they? This was normal. If someone would ask, it wouldn’t be weird. And the little plant that you carried in the tote around your shoulder was technically his, so that wasn’t strange either.

“Here you go!” someone else entered the shop just as you left, and held the door open for you.

“Yea, got it! Thank you!” you tried to sound more upbeat than you were whilst you carefully manoeuvred yourself out. Polite smiles got exchanged and you adjusted your grip a little, the big kentia palm heavy in your hands.

House warming gift.

Normal.

You were a normal friend, making your way over to your normal friend who was moving into his new normal flat and you were bringing normal house warming gifts.

If his dad was still there you could say that you just went out to go and replace what you’d accidentally broken.

You really hoped he would be there still, weirdly. His dad. Wished for the barrier of another person there.

And your panicked walk-out from earlier was easily explained too. You’d made a mistake and had felt embarrassed.

Normal. Hauling a massive plant across London, maybe not so normal. But fine. With every step you took the plant grew heavier and you grew more uncomfortable. Two nights of barely any sleep really weren’t working in your favour here. But, it was fine.

Walking up, you noticed the moving van was gone.

When you rang his doorbell, you waited to maybe hear Joe’s voice ask who was there, but the door just buzzed and you were let into the building.

You didn’t have to wait for the lift, and you kind of wished that you did. That you’d had a minute to collect yourself.

But no.

Second floor.

And Joe’s door was already open, the flat all quiet. Bin bags filled with what seemed to be just plastic wrapping were placed to the side and all boxes seemed to have made their way into their new respective rooms.

And, then, there was Joe. Stood in his kitchen. On his own. Busy with– something. You couldn’t see what he was doing, since he had his back turned.

He’d obviously heard you come in, but he didn’t turn around. Even after you cleared your throat, he delayed greeting you and made you feel like a fucking idiot.

“Surprise,” you said in a small voice, far more shaky than you wanted it to be. “Got you a house warming gift, and,” you put the plant down and reached for your tote. “And, also, this. This is yours, too.”

Little crispy wave.

You put it down and gestured a nervous hand Joe didn’t even see. It felt stupid and awkward.

It took another moment before Joe turned around.

He didn’t even look at the big plant. Or the little one. Just looked right at you and kept his face all serious.

“Can we talk?”

No.

“Sure.”

And then you just looked at each other a moment. Shared unsaid things with looks, the way you always did, but you remained frustratingly closed off as Joe tried to pry you open.

He copied the way you were standing then.

Crossed his arms over his stomach and then pulled his shoulders up to his ears and kept them there as he made big eyes at you.

Was he making fun?

You shrugged as a response. Nodded a little and pretended to be nonchalant about it. Yea you were closed off. Had Joe forgotten he hadn’t told you he was moving out? That everything about the current situation you found yourselves in was unwanted and uncomfortable because of him?

And, okay, sure. Yea. You had your hand in this way of being with each other too. But you were the way you were inside of your flat, never out.

So you remained distant.

Kept your arms crossed and stayed right where you were, even though what you craved most right in this moment was the exact opposite. But you couldn’t just step closer and hug Joe right now. Couldn’t just be hugged by Joe right now.

“I don’t–... what am I to you?” Joe asked, genuinely curious.

The sun, you thought. The light when everything else was dark. Softness when everything else had sharp edges. The bit of comfort amongst all the excruciating grief. The fix.

Joe was the fix to every single problem you’d ever had since you’d moved into your flat with him all that time ago.

You said none of those things, of course.

Couldn’t.

So you just blinked rapidly, and hoped you wouldn’t actually cry. It didn’t feel like Joe was in a mood to be very comforting right now, so you really tried your hardest to keep a straight face.

“Tell me. What are we?”

You very nearly said flatmate. But your throat grew thick, and you shook your head. Unable to answer. Flatmate was the wrong answer, anyway.

“No?”

More head shaking. Couldn’t say shit. Joe was no longer your flatmate.

“Well, what... what do you want me to do?” Joe sounded kind, but defeated. You were making this unnecessarily difficult, and Joe didn’t have the answers.

So, you tried your hand at one. At an answer.

“To, um...” you had to stop, clear your throat before you continued, “To water that plant at least once a week.”

You deflected just like you’d done earlier that day. When Joe’d laughed and had hugged you and you hadn’t hugged him back because you weren’t alone in your flat and you never hugged outside of your flat, and fuck off, you were such a stupid bitch, you should’ve just hugged him back then.

“Keep it out of direct sunlight–” your voice wobbled as Joe cut you off.

“No, stop it. Don’t, you’re– baby, please.”

Baby.

That shot you right in the chest. Made you drop your head as your face scrunched up and tears fell right to the floor.

Baby.

“What do I do? What do you want?”

Concern flitted across his face, and if Joe thought that this was going to help you get your words out, he was dead wrong. The want to just leave once more was there. You felt it in your legs. In your feet. In the way the corners of your mouth got pulled down by emotion and exhaustion and– you weren’t made for this shit. You wanted out.

But Joe was quick.

Before you could even bring a hand up to your face to hide your pout, Joe was there. Curled arms around your back and tightly squeezed you against his chest so you got to hide your pout in there. Rested his head atop yours and softly shushed you.

You weren’t even really crying, but Joe’s embrace was welcome anyway.

It always was.

“I know you see it. You see it right? Feel it?”

You nodded. You did see it. Did feel it. But that shit was terrifying, and so, no thanks. You could just be blind and void of feelings forever and everything would be fine.

It wasn’t. Wouldn’t be. Obviously.

And Joe was just shoving your face into the fact that it wasn’t and would never be. Needed you to admit to it. Or at least acknowledge it. Something.

“So then talk to me. What do I do? What do you want?”

Your face scrunched up in a mixture of both hurt and anger. You wanted a lot of things. You wanted to crawl inside Joe’s clothes and tell him to shut the fuck up and simultaneously wanted to slowly push him down the stairs the way you’d pushed that plant to its demise earlier that day.

He was an idiot that was trying his best to fix something he’d caused.

He wasn the fix this time.

He was the cause of the hurt.

The second you realised that, you opened your mouth to speak, yet all that came out was a sob.

A pathetic small little sob that shook you by the shoulders more than it made an actual sound.

It made Joe squeeze you tighter as he shushed you more, but the shushing just fueled the anger.

Did he want you to talk to him or not?!

“You’ve never been– you’re not meant to be the cause, you– you’re the cause now.”

You got the words out and felt how the anger was fleeting.

“I know, baby. I know.”

Baby.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to be the reason you– you know, hence the... you need to know that I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have gone about it like that, I just...”

You loved being able to feel Joe’s voice as he spoke, but the words gave you anxiety.

You never talked, and this was a lot.

You were so fucking tired.

“I’m sorry, I should–...”

Should leave? Get out? Stop this awkward chat because you were crying and it wasn’t slowly ebbing away but was very persistently setting up camp right behind your eyes where you knew it was going to stay put and hurt your throat and it took effort the whole time to not burst into louder sobs and–

“What do you want?”

Joe didn’t let go. Didn’t let that stupid question go either. You still hadn’t answered it yet, and Joe desperately wanted you to.

You had to say it. Had to use your voice, no matter how hoarse and barely-there it was.

Where you hated how small and stupid and weak you sounded, this was the type of stuff Joe fucking lived for.

Did he hate that he knew exactly why you were emotional right now? That he was responsible for the state of you right now?

Yes absolutely.

Guilt ate away at him from the inside out, but look, he was fixing it, and you were outside of the flat, and you’d come back after you’d left in a hurry earlier, and he had already been trying to accept the idea that maybe he wouldn’t see you for a while, you know?

Yet here you were.

All wrapped up in his arms.

All safe.

He couldn’t exactly protect you from himself, but he knew that what was done was necessary and important. He’d just done it wrong.

He’d kiss it better though.

Joe pressed soft kisses into your hair and then whispered, “Hmm? What is it you want?”

And you only really had one answer.

“To sleep.” you murmured, and you weren’t lying. Joe was holding you and he was warm and he smelt nice and you really wanted to go to sleep. “I’m tired.”

It wasn’t what he wanted to hear, but, all right. You’d answered his question.

“Mhmm. Go to sleep then. Get some–”

Joe stopped when you shook your head no and stuttered through breathing that grew more erratic as you tried to stiffle your sobbing.

“I can’t, it’s...”

God, it was so stupid.

Saying this shit out loud was so fucking awkward and lame and everything sounded daft and wrong, and not at all like the actual thoughts and feelings you felt inside, and Joe wouldn’t understand what you actually meant.

You couldn’t fucking sleep without Joe there.

Stiffling sobs only built them up until larger ones slipped out.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Joe shushed, pressed his lips into your hair, squeezed you tighter and rocked a little from side to side.

You felt like a fucking child.

It wasn’t okay.

But Joe shushed you, and swayed you, and if you closed your eyes it was kind of like you were both at home where this was totally fine and okay and just how you were.

Joe was making light of something heavy because he was so good at making light of all things heavy.

You had been what you were for so long that now the prospect of no longer being that felt so foreign to you, it only made you duck into Joe’s grasp even more.

Joe wanted to ask the same question again.

Wanted to whisper it into your hair. What do you want, and, what am I to you exactly, because you were no longer flatmates now, and, what did you tell your friend, how did you explain to her what you were together, what words did you use?

He could tell you what he wanted you to say, but that wouldn’t count. It didn’t work like that.

What did it work like, though?

Forcing you to fucking speak?

Making you cry so he could swoop right in and kiss it better like a manipulative twat?

Outside of the flat you shared it only became more clear to Joe that this wasn’t normal, and that a new normal was desperately needed. One where you lived in your own spaces and had a little distance and would then meet up every once in a while and have dates in the outside world like normal people.

Necessary and important.

You stood in Joe’s kitchen for a while.

Joe held you until you stopped shaking and your breathing evened out. He knew for sure you’d stopped crying when he felt one of your hands search for the hem of his T-shirt to sneak under and touch the bare skin of his back.

Had you been at home, this is where he would’ve walked you over to sit down on the sofa.

But there was no sofa to go sit on.

And sure, Joe’s bed had been put together, but it wasn’t made, and there were so many boxes to go through still. Shit to unpack. He had mates coming ‘round later that were going to help with the flatpacks and, did he want to just find his covers and lay down with you for the rest of the day? Yes. Absolutely. But he couldn’t.

Joe let go of you and reached for your sneaking hand. Pulled it from under the fabric and broke his own heart when he watched your face, tear-stained and blotchy, as you came to terms with there being no familiar next steps.

Not this time.

It was enough to make your breath hitch in your throat once more, but you were quick to calm yourself down. Joe got to see from up close how you closed your eyes and took slow deep breaths through your nose.

And then, surprising both him and yourself, you answered Joe’s earlier question.

What do you want?

“I want you to sell this place and come back.”

A bold joke. Not not true, but definitely silly. You knew that was never going to happen, and you opened your eyes only to see Joe trying his hardest to fight a smile off of his face.

“I’m not going to sell this place and come back.” Joe said in his gentlest voice, playing with the hand he was still holding onto. He held it by your index finger and your pinky and just shook it about a bit.

“Imagine if I did,” Joe carefully tried a joke in return, and he thanked the fucking stars when you smiled.

“Tell you what will be going back with you, though.”

Joe let go of your hand and picked up the small asplenium. His crispy wave that he placed in your bedroom that he liked so much he decided to get his own one, for his own flat, so you’d have a matching set, which you then went and broke.

“No, it’s... they’re buddies.”

You pointed at the big kentia palm with a little pout and Joe was about to fucking die at how cute you were being.

“Yea, all right.” Joe said, but still moved to place the small pot back in the tote you left on the side. “They can be buddies. But they’ll just... they’ll live at different flats.”

Joe took your hand and moved the straps of the bag up your arm. Pushed them onto your shoulder with soft care and made sure they laid flat.

“But they’ll miss each other.” you tried, obviously no longer talking about the plants.

Joe smiled.

“They won’t need to. They can still see each other all the time. They can text. Call. Have dinner– have pizza together. Sleep over. Stay the night. They wont have to miss each other.”

And that was that.

You were told to go get some rest. Joe would call you later.

And sure.

You could do that.

Didn’t like it.

But you could do that.

Kind of had no other choice, anyway.

With your little plant in your bag and the promise of seeing each other later, you left his flat, and felt... sort of numb. Still exhausted and somewhat empty, but, you got to keep the plant, so that was one thing.

You still didn’t want to look at all the empty in your flat, so you beelined it straight into your bedroom when you came home. Placed Joe’s plant back in the window and tried to get some rest.

And it really should’ve been so easy.

You were tired. Had had two consecutive nights of barely any sleep and the emotional rollercoaster you’d just experienced left your brain absolutely functionless.

Just, defective. Error 404.

And you’d nearly fallen asleep standing up in Joe’s kitchen forty-five minutes ago as he’d held you, but somehow... it just didn’t work on your own. In your own bed.

But you tried.

You really fucking tried.

You tossed and turned for ages until tears of frustration slipped into your pillow.

Fuck Joe.

Fuck him and his ways of making you feel so cherished. You weren’t feeling very cherished right now, how fucking foul of him. To be around at your disposal for ages, letting things naturally progress, and to then just vanish? Leave you without the ability to sleep in your own bed? Could only get some actual shut-eye in his room?

And, well. A drowning man will clutch at a fucking straw, won’t he?

Desperate times called for desperate measures.

In a wave of fury you slung the covers back and hauled yourself up and out of bed.

If Joe wasn’t going to fucking fix this, you were.

You heard a key slide into your front door just after dragging your heavy mattress over to what used to be Joe’s bedroom and you froze in a panic.

Joe still had his key.

Of course he did.

Shit.

You were stood in the doorway of your bedroom, pillows under your arms and a corner of your duvet in your hand.

The door opened and just like you’d expected, Joe stepped into view, looking all soft with fluffy hair and big eyes and soft skind and– and actually... yea, this was perfect.

Just what you needed, actually.

Joe saw you before he closed the door behind him.

Mess of a girl. Hair everywhere. Bags under her eyes. Clothes twisted around her body. Holding as much of her bedding as she could hold with just two arms.

You slowly blinked at him.

“Hey... what are you...”

Joe was holding a pizza box.

Brought dinner.

It was a bit late for dinner, but he hadn’t been able to stop looking at the texts you’d sent that he never responded to.

“What’s going on?”

You dropped what you were holding and stepped forward. Joe thought you were going for a hug, maybe, but instead, you reached for the pizza box. Took it from him and the put it down onto the floor right next to him.

Didn’t need that.

Just needed Joe.

“Are you all right? Hey. Look at me.”

Without saying anything you then took hold of Joe’s arm and pulled him along. Into his old bedroom. Pushed at his shoulders and made him sit down onto the mattress before you turned and went to get all the bedding you’d dropped.

You didn’t care he had his coat on still. Had his shoes on still.

It took a second for Joe to fully understand what was happening.

What was going on right now.

Why you seemed so fucking out of it and why you didn’t answer any of his questions or his confused looks.

Joe watched as you walked back into the room and stepped onto your mattress, duvet dragging on the floor behind you. He held an arm out, said, “C’mere,” and you didn’t need to be told fucking twice.

Dropped all you were holding once again, but this time, it turned your mattress on the floor into somewhat of an actual bed. Not a made one; it was a whole heap of soft on one side, and then just Joe on the other.

But he said come here, and you only had so much brain capacity left, you know?

You let yourself fall onto your knees and crawled until you found Joe’s lap. You shifted and turned and wiggled yourself onto him and then Joe let himself fall back, legs splayed out on the floor, but enough of him on the mattress for you to curl up on properly.

You laid chest to chest. Soft stomach to soft stomach. Heart to heart. Your head on his shoulder, your nose nudging into the squishy flesh under his chin, and your eyelashes tickled into the scruff on his jaw.

“Yea? Is this better?” Joe whispered and patted a searching hand around until he found the duvet. He pulled it across until you were both covered with it and you hummed on the exhale of a contented sigh.

This was it.

This was what your body had been craving. Was exactly what you needed.

“You comfy, baby?”

Baby.

“Mhmm,”

Joe shifted his hips, and your crotches were also definitely right on top of each other, but it went ignored. Not important right now.

Sleep was important right now.

Warmth, and comfort, and Joe’s velvety soothing voice were important right now.

His heartbeat, and his smell, and his stroking fingers that found the soft warm skin of your back to leave goosebumps on as he trailed fingertips all the way and all the way back down were important right now.

“That’s it, just relax.”

You couldn’t even properly hum anymore, your throat just made a little noise, and when Joe felt you sink into him even deeper, his chest hurt with unexpressed affection.

You were falling asleep.

The light in the hallway was still on, his bedroom door wide open, shoes and coat still on, but you were falling asleep on top of him and God, if that didn’t make him question every single choice he’d made over the past few months.

He dipped his chin a little and planted a little kiss on wherever it landed. Side of your nose, Joe thought.

You accepted it and nudged him back into place and Joe had to squeeze his eyes shut at how fucking adorable that was.

He was going to tell you in the morning.

Promised himself he would.

He wanted exactly this, the way you were inside the flat, but, have that elsewhere.

Not just here.

Have that outside.

In his new flat.

In front of other people.

“Hey,” Joe whispered, but he got no response. The only noise that filled the room was your shared breathing, and, good, Joe thought. Sleep.

He was going to say the words anyway.

“It won’t always be like this.”

You heard them.

And Joe was right.

But you were immediately aware of how fucking cruel that sounded. Because, obviously, it wasn’t always going to be like this. Joe wasn’t always going to be showing up at your front door with a box of pizza and a bunch of time on his hands. He wasn’t going to be around for ever. Let himself be pushed onto a mattress so you could sleep on top of him. Life would eventually run away with him.

You’d only been flatmates once, and the probability that any of what that meant remained was astronomically small.

Joe’d had flatmates before he no longer spoke to. So did you.

Of course, you knew it wouldn’t always be like this.

But, it also wouldn’t always be like this.

There would be other guys, other men, that would try to provide you with the same idea of comfort and safety and it wouldn’t be the same, but it’d be just as nice. Just different.

There’d likely be new flatmates, different people to share living space with, new people to share pizza with, and it wouldn’t be like this.

Not as nice.

Not as effortless and fucking easy as it was with Joe.

Where everything meant nothing and something at the same time.

It wouldn’t be like this.

“I know.”

You surprised Joe with your barely there whisper, and it startled him enough for you to feel it in his body. To cover it up, he quickly wrapped tight arms around you in response.

He’d tell you in the morning.

He’d tell you he wanted to hold hands as you walked from your flat to his and back.

He’d tell you he wanted to be able to curl up on the sofa together the way you always did in front of his friends. In front of yours.

He’d tell you that the safe space of your flat could be extended and, as long as you and Joe were together, it didn’t matter where you were; he could be the safe space.

Moving out was the first step to the expanding of the comfort zone.

Tomorrow, it was time for the second step.

Joe vowed that this promise wouldn’t vanish with the sunrise, the way that promises made late at night always were so wont to do.

Swore that it would be the first this he’d do when he’d wake.

I’ll start on Monday.

I’ll wake up early, do it in the morning.

Thing’s will be different when the sun rises.

They never were.

Not really.

But he’d tell you. And he’d see if you were willing to listen. the end

---

The Taglisted

@ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @bylermaxmayfield, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @djoseph-quinn, @dolcevit4, @eddies-puppet, @emma77645, @emotionaldreamer, @everythinghasafacee, @figmentofquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @hanahkatexo, @harringtonfan4, @hazelenys, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @keikoraven, @kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @manda-panda-monium, @mandyjo8719, @mexicanfolklore, @miserybeans, @munson-mjstan, @nadixq, @nglharry, @notverywise, @pepperstories, @phyllosilicate-s, @royale1803, @sherrylyn628, @sidthedollface2, @songforeddiemunson, @sweetberry47, @take-everything-you-can, @thebellenouvelle, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @witchwolflea, @yelyahcardella, @yunirgo

taglist currently full, sorry

#Joseph Quinn #Joe Quinn #Joseph Quinn x You #Joe Quinn x You #Joseph Quinn x Reader #Joe Quinn x Reader #Joe Quinn Fanfic #Joe Quinn fanfiction #Joseph Quinn Fanfic #Joseph Quinn Fanfiction #joe quinn x y/n #joseph quinn x y/n #icallhimjoey #define close #explain us

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crazyk-imagine · 3 months

Text

Baby plus Comments meets Horny Boyfriend

Pairing: Luke Dunphy x Girlfriend!reader

Characters: Luke Dunphy, Girlfriend!reader, Manny Delgado, Gloria Delgado-Pritchett, Jay Pritchett, Claire Dunphy, Phil Dunphy, Haley Dunphy, Alex Dunphy, Mitchell Pritchett, Cameron Tucker, Joe Pritchett

Warnings: Fluff, boys being boys, Manny and Luke being idiots, reader being a sweetheart, characters being potentially ooc, Luke gets jealous easily, Luke is a horny little shit, Phil is still the same nonchalant dad and we love him, mentions of Phil trying to do his magic

Word Count: 404

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

Alex exits the room, and their comments are idiotic per usual. You glance back at the two. "You're both idiots."

Manny nearly gasps, drawing his inner Gloria energy. "I'm offended you would put me in the same category as your boyfriend."

You nearly roll your eyes. "Did either of you notice Joe was in the car with us or outside the door messing with one of your plants?"

Manny and Luke turn to one another, the latter shrugs.

"No, right? That's why Alex was saying those things, not because she's sending mixed signals, it's because your little brother slash young uncle is adorable." You smile, holding your hand out for him. "Come on, baby Joe."

You turn back towards the two once you get the youngin in your arms. "Now, if you'll excuse me, someone needs to clean himself up before his mama comes up here and sees the dirt."

Your boyfriend pouts. "Why does he get your attention?"

You glance back at Luke, "get a baby and maybe you'll be cute."

He smirks, taking a step towards you. "Oh my- Luke no. I'm not going to have a baby with you."

You two turn and see everyone's attention on your conversation. "Oh, great."

"It's not like I made everyone look at us."

You narrow your eyes at him.

"Ay, what happened to Joe?" Gloria asks, seeing how dirty her son is.

"He decided to take a deep dive into one of the plants upstairs. So, I was going to see what I could clean up before determining if he needs a bath yet or not."

"That's so nice of you, thank you."

"Mr. Dunphy?"

"How many times have I told you to call me, Phil?"

"When I'm not mad at your son, we'll talk."

"But your never not mad at him."

You thin your lips, raise your brows, and tilt your head as if to say I told you so.

He sighs, looking up at his son. "Luke?"

The teen avoids making eye contact with anyone.

"He needs to go out and do something with himself."

"Ah, I got it. He needs to practice his magic."

An evil smirk dances across your lips. "Exactly. See you, baby."

"Wait- no." His shoulders slump as your figure disappears into the bathroom.

"Really, Luke? Here of all places?" Claire shakes her head.

He shrugs, "what can I say? She's hot."

Haley and Alex roll their eyes.

#modern family #modern family imagine #modern family imagines #modern family fanfic #modern family fanfiction #luke dunphy x reader #luke dunphy #luke dunphy imagine #luke dunphy imagines #luke dunphy fanfiction #luke dunphy fanfic #luke dunphy x you #luke dunphy x female reader #luke dunphy x female!reader #luke dunphy x girlfriend reader #luke dunphy x girlfriend!reader #crazyk-imagine

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rickybaby · 3 months

Text

Daniel’s father talking about the Targa Florio and it’s connection with the Ricciardo family’s love for motorsport:

Joe was born in Sicily and credited the Italian island with planting the seeds of his family’s love affair with racing. “They used to have this huge race called the Targa Florio that was really big and famous from the 1920s right up to the mid-70s,” he said. “I was too young to remember but my dad tells me my grandfather used to put me on his shoulders and walk me down the hill to watch the cars as they came through. I think motorsport is in our DNA.”

+ Daniel on driving around his grandfather’s hometown:

“I would like to say … hey, I went racing around the streets where you [his grandfather] grew up. I passed your house, drifting … sideways, and I left some rubber just outside your front door.”

#I always think about that one podcast Daniel did with Jackie Stewart where he talked about getting to give his dad #who once dreamed of being a formula one driver #unique experiences that he couldn’t have imagined in his wildest dreams #and also recently when he talked about how something crazy would happen and his dad would look at him to say how is this happening #and Daniel would be as excited and as speechless as him #so I can only imagine sharing the story of driving the torga florio with his dad who has this place #as such a core memory to his love for motorsport #must be truly special #daniel ricciardo

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jungle-angel · 1 month

Text

Master Of The Earth (Bob Floyd x Reader)

Summary: Out of all the Daggers, Bob has the biggest green thumb of all

Tagging: @floydsmuse @callmemana @attapullman @bradshawsbaby @withahappyrefrain

It was one of those spring days where you knew summer would be right around the corner, bright and sunny, the birds singing and the fresh early morning air making its way into the house. You had been sitting out on the front steps, enjoying your morning coffee and relieved that your lesson plans for your class's sixth grade year were finally done and that all you would have to worry about were the Greek Games and the spring fair at the school you taught at.

You heard the faint playing of music coming from somewhere around the corner, just having finished a phone call with Bob's grandfather and wondering if your mind was playing tricks on you.

You wandered around the back to the backyard where the garden was already beginning to bloom, noticing that the greenhouse door was cracked open just a little to let in the fresh air. A cheeky grin played with your lips when you heard the bluetooth speaker playing "Shambala" by Three Dog Night and your eyes laying upon Bob who was dancing shirtless as he shoveled some of the bagged soil into the clay pots on the long wooden table.

"BOB!!"

"Jeebus FUCK!!!" he blurted out, jumping a little.

"Have you been in here all morning?" you asked him.

"Since five in the AM," he chuckled, drawing you in for a tight hug.

Oooh he was warm, so warm and a little sticky from the greenhouse humidity, smelling of fresh dirt and wet leaves. You kissed the curve of his neck and the tops of his pecs before he gladly and eagerly returned the kisses you had been giving.

"Oh, I've gotta show you these," he said excitedly.

He gently guided you to the bench where a whole pile of seed packets were waiting to be opened. "Oh my God," you chuckled. "Did you raid the entire Home Depot garden section?"

Bob had opened his mouth to say something. "I......ya know......it's funny you should ask that....."

"Robert Joseph......"

"(Y/n) I swear half of it was my dad's idea, I'm not lying."

You laughed and rolled your eyes. Bob, his dad Joe Floyd and Joe's father, Lowell, were the only three people on the face of the earth who would have willingly raided a Home Depot garden section and not given a single fuck hereafter. "Alright Professor Floyd," you said. "Continue with the lecture."

"Ah ok," Bob said. "Now we have here an assortment of plants that will be first put into clay pots and then gradually into bigger ones until they are ready to root in the ground. Now if you would like to flip through the pile of seed packets, you may feel free to do so."

You laughed and gladly flipped through the pile of packets, amazed at what Bob had been able to get. Calendula, oregano, cayenne pepper, chamomile, poppies, lavender, rosemary, mint, marigolds, valerian and a whole host of other herbs and flora that you swore weren't even native to where you lived.

"Ooh, yarrow," you said.

"That was always Meemaw's favorite," Bob explained. "I've also got tulsi, catnip and mugwort too."

"What else did you plant?" you asked him.

"Maybe a peach tree," Bob said, blushing a little. "For my sweet, juicy little peach of course."

You giggled, the heat filling you from head to toe.

"I've also got a few bushes too," Bob continued. "Blackberry, elderberry, raspberry.......maybe a camellia bush. Black cohosh will help with mom's hot flashes and keep the pests away. Nasturtium will grow hardy but they need wood dowels to climb up. I'd like to see about some mullein and nettle but I'm not sure where we'd put it. Hawk said he would come by later and give me some white sage seeds that he extracted from his daughter's garden too."

You could have listen to him babble on for hours about the plants and the experiments he was trying. You made a mental note to introduce him to Mr. Jenkins, the high school science teacher who was teaching his ninth graders some of the principals and techniques involved in holistic farming, as the two of them would have a day long conversation.

You and Bob set to planting the seeds, scooping the dirt and putting it into the pots along with the seeds and properly burying them just enough so they could push through to the surface when the time came. You watered and fertilized as you saw fit, taking pictures of new sprouts or buds and adding them into Bob's journal full of his drawings, writings and observations. You both had lost track of the time until you realized it was already noon and time for lunch. But thankfully, the day wasn't over yet and you could do as much more planting as the day would allow.

#top gun maverick #robert bob floyd #bob floyd reader #robert bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd x y/n #bob floyd x y/n #bob floyd x you

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ep2nd · 2 months

Note

Anonymous reminder to talk about you pj mcyt au! (I was told to name a smp in the tags so… fable? Do you have fable smp? I ask, knowing the answer is probably no) anyways! Have a good day, I love reading headcannons

LE GASP THANKSSSSSS

Sadly, I did not put Fable in here, have herad of it, and maybe I'll dig into it and add it later

BUT NOW LETS TALK

Athena and Ares Kids

False- Favored daughter of Athena. Best War strategist, greatest Archer of her siblings. Her father died when she was young, leaving her defenseless. Single-handedly got to camp at the age of 6. Oldest member of camp. Joined the Hunt at 16.

Etho- Always planning something. Typical gray eyes, used to have black hair. Went on a quest and came back with a scar, white hair, and very broody. Disappeared after a few years- unknown.

Gem- Gets along great with the Demeter cabin. Came to camp with Sausage, Fwhip, and Zed and now they are all honorary found family. Great swordswoman. Joined the Hunt at 14.

Impulse- Smart. Great tinkerer and craftsmen. His Dad was an inventor, and alive. Can craft almost anything, honorary brother of Hephaestus cabin and Skizz. Tango and he get into lots of fire trouble. Not the best at being strategy smart, or good at fighting, but great with people.

Pearl- Greatest daughter of Ares. Blood-thirsty. Has several mood swings. Great with plants, love playing pranks, and loves fighting the best. Knows how to weild several weapons. Once fought her own father and won. Came to camp when she was 8. Don't talk about her dad.

Puffy- Great strategist, fighter, and people person. Loves kids. Will fight anyone for the kids. Veteran Camper. Came back to help.

Reddoons- showed up at camp, found out he was a son of Ares, then disappeared. May or May not be working with the enemy.

Tapl- great Archer, and that's kinda it. Knows how to get out a situation. Very bored. Wished his dad was Apollo.

Techno- Greatest son of Ares. One of the few people who can beat Pearl, Liz, False, and Dream. Wished he was a son Athena. Doesn't like his dad. Tries to not be bloody thirsty like his dad, but in the heat of battle- well. Was brought to camp by Phil. In college. Mom died at War.

Xisuma- Veteran camper. Basically the adult supervision. Has the best plans. Took False in and helped her, along with several others, dubbing themselves as Hermits. Has a stygian sword, gift from Hades and Joe after helping them in the Underworld- yes he's been to the underworld, he's been to several places. Waves the fans off- but let's be real this guy was SICK back in his day.

Bek- strongest Ares kid. Both physically and will. Doesn't use weapons- only fists.

Welsknight- Doesn't like his dad, but understands the honor and need of War. Man came from a line of knights, holds up chivalry. Veteran person. Visits sometimes. Best friends with X, went on several adventures with him, like that time he held up the sky or killed a hydra or fought a Titan- ya know stuff.

Quig- Uses sword and only sword. Quick, in everything. Doesn't like to talk much. Great friends with Pete. In college. Dad died in shooter stampede. Hates guns.

Pete- Veteran camper. Earned a chariot in battle. Has pet birds. Great Archer and sword fighter. Green eyes that can peirce the soul or make you eat your vegetables.

Pigical- Also doesn't like his dad- surprising I know. Uses fast and nimble combat. Tries to be a pacisft. Weak. Very kind though. His mom banished him.

Boffy- most cruel son of Ares. Uses a scythe. Great fighter, but also very dangerous. Rumors said he tortured his victims, enjoying death. Disappeared. No one knows where, hopefully not to the enemy.

Muka- carries a gun. Son of Ares with modern weapons. Has a pet mechanical wolf. Disappeared, but more of a loner. Found the other camp, kinda just chills. Great mom visits regularly.

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allmoshnobrain · 5 months

Text

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

part 22 of ? | masterpost

word count: 3319 | ao3 link | fic's playlist

All the hugs, the laughter, the comfort, the advice. The way his blue eyes were always locked onto mine. Maybe I should've caught on sooner. It's not like it was some big secret, especially since Dave got the boot from the band. But somehow, I clung to the hope that I was wrong. That the bond between us was stronger than any attraction he might have. That he wouldn't risk doing something that could change it forever. Something irreversible. Something like a kiss.

✦ summary: An unexpected action by James confuses Nore's feelings and changes their friendship beyond repair.

✦ on this chapter: dave mustaine x female!oc, james hetfield x female! oc, oc is cliff's cousin, +18, language, slice of life, angst, love triangle, drinking, smoking, recreational drug use, kissing

✦ a/n: I'm back earlier this time! This part was a lot easier to write because I confess it has been living rent free in my head for a while lol Hope you guys like it, feedbacks are welcome and motivate me a lot!

✧ Don't wanna touch you, but you're under my skin / I wanna taste you but your lips are venomous poison ✧

The trip back to Los Angeles was pretty quiet as I got lost in my own thoughts. Still trying to wrap my head around my mom's offer and all the baggage it brought, my mind was racing, keeping pace with the dark night scenery outside the window.

"You're awfully quiet," Dave remarked, jolting me back to reality. I glanced at him; he was focused on the road, but looked a bit bothered by my silence.

"My bad," I murmured. "It's just... a lot to take in at once."

"No need to apologize," he said, a small smile playing on his lips. He casually took one hand off the wheel, placing it on my thigh, his thumb tracing gentle circles on my skin. I rested my hand on his, leaning back into the seat. He furrowed his brow, the usual sign of concentration, and his hand left mine to shift gears; I smiled faintly, appreciating how good he looked when he was focused. "How are you doing?"

"Me?" I questioned, and he nodded with a grunt. I sighed. "I guess I'm okay. My family is complicated, but it's nothing I'm not used to."

"Your dad seemed nice," he smiled, stealing a quick glance at me. I chuckled softly.

"Yeah, he's... easier to deal with. Now, my mom..."

"She's... interesting," he commented, and I laughed softly, catching on that he was being polite. We were almost home now; Dave stopped the car at a red light and turned to face me, gazing into my eyes.

"She's a pain in the ass, that's what she is," I said, and he burst into laughter. "Always acting like she's better than everyone. She always... always makes me feel like I'm hard to love," I concluded with a sigh.

"Hey," he lifted my chin with his fingers, making me meet his serious and focused gaze. I felt my face warm as he leaned in, planting a gentle kiss on my lips before pulling away. He whispered into my ear, "That's not true... It's very easy to love you."

The rest of September passed by like a hurricane. A few days after visiting my parents, we threw a small birthday party for Dave with our closest LA friends. To spice things up, there was a mini jam session where Dave, David, and a couple of other friends belted out some fresh tunes they'd cooked up. They had no vocalist yet, but I was blown away by the raw power and intensity of Dave's new compositions anyway. When he strummed those chords, it felt like a surge of electricity took over the whole place. Everything about him cranked up a notch; it was downright impossible to peel my eyes away, even for a second.

October rolled in, and with the streets all decked out for Halloween, I received an invite that temporarily shoved aside my worries about my mom's deal. Leanne's birthday was just around the corner, and she was throwing a bash for the upcoming weekend at Joe's place. Word was it would be a wild one. I hit up San Francisco on Saturday morning, thinking I was kinda early, but his place was already buzzing with people, tunes, and drinks.

"Nore! You made it!" Leanne beamed when she spotted me.

"Hey, Lea. Happy birthday." I grinned, handing over the gift I brought—some records from bands I knew she liked.

"Oh, you brought me a present, thank you!" she squealed, hugging me. I chuckled, giving her a squeeze back. She pulled away with a grin. "Hey, Cliff and the others are by the pool. I'm heading there soon, but if you wanna roll in before..."

"Oh, I'll track 'em down. Got a spot to stash this?" I pointed to the backpack on my back and the helmet from my bike.

I cruised to the backyard after Lea helped me stash my gear in Joe's room. Didn't have to play detective to find my friends; Cliff, Lars, James, and Kirk were deep in conversation by the pool, dead set on pouring vodka from a bottle into little plastic shot cups.

"Hey, that's not fair!" Lars yelped as I strolled up. "James, you snagged way more than the rest of us."

"Why don’t you pour it yourself, then?" James shot him a look, lifting an eyebrow. I grinned.

"Can't believe you dudes didn't save a drop for me," I teased, making them all look up at once.

"Nore!" Lars shouted, all pumped. I threw out a quick hi to the guys before zeroing in on Cliff.

"So, did Dave give you the green light to be here?" he quipped with a smirk. I huffed, rolling my eyes.

"He doesn't need to give me the green light for anything, Cliff," I muttered, and he chuckled before yanking me into a hug.

"Good to see you, Nore. Hey, what's that there?" Cliff pointed to the bag hanging from my arm.

"Oh, about that... Can I chat with you for a sec?" I asked in a hushed tone. Cliff raised an eyebrow, looking intrigued, but gave a nod. We strolled away, finding a quieter spot in the backyard. He pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, expertly fishing out a joint and lighting it, shielding the flame from the gentle morning breeze with his hands.

"So, spill. What's the scoop?" he asked, and I sighed before handing him the bag. He opened it, furrowing his brow at the sight of the Metallica record. "Wow. Is the album this bad?"

"It’s awesome ," I said, then sighed. "But... Cliff, Dave got really bent out of shape when he saw this. I just figured... maybe you could hold onto the record for me for a bit. I don't want him getting worked up about it..."

"Nore. This isn't right," Cliff stated, his voice firm. I lifted my eyes, locking onto his gaze, and could tell he wasn't very happy with what I'd just said. "You can't do this. You're giving up on living because of him. First, you move to be with him, and we hardly see each other anymore. Now this?"

"You don't get it, Cliff. Please," I pleaded. "I don't want to fight. Not with you guys, not with him."

"Is he giving you grief because of us?" Cliff raised an eyebrow. I sighed, dropping my gaze, but didn't say anything. "Nore." Cliff held my chin, forcing me to meet his eyes. "I can hang onto this for you if you really want. But you gotta tell me you know he's not your responsibility."

"Cliff..."

"Remember what I said when you two started dating?" he cut me off. "If he messes with you, I got your back. Cool?"

"Okay," I murmured, giving a small smile. "Thanks."

"Anything for my fave cousin," he grinned, and I chuckled softly. "Come on, let's get back to the shindig."

Back in the mix with Kirk, Lars, and James, we found the vodka bottle now half-gone, abandoned at James' feet while they all helped themselves to some beers.

"I'm gonna stash this and track down Lea. Back in a sec," Cliff announced, waving the bag with my record. I gave a nod, turning my focus back to the guys.

"Hey, Nore!" James hollered, a grin spreading across his face the moment he spotted me. "There's no way you're sober. You used to be a champ at this drinking thing."

"James, it's ten in the morning," I laughed, and he scoffed, passing the beer he had to Lars and grabbing the vodka bottle from the ground. He popped it open, strolling over and throwing a hand on my shoulder with a grin.

"Don't tell me you're thinking of laying off the booze."

"Of course not," I shot back, raising an eyebrow challengingly. He, along with Lars and Kirk, burst into laughter.

"You gotta taste this vodka. Lars swiped it straight from his old man's stash," Kirk chimed in.

"Yeah, it's awful," Lars laughed, then hiccupped. I rolled my eyes with a smile. I knew my friends turned into total goofballs when they hit the bottle, but watching it unfold while I was stone-cold sober was a whole different trip.

"Come on, open up," James slurred, his words dragging, gripping my chin in his hand.

"James!" I exclaimed, caught off guard, releasing a nervous laugh as I tried to back away. James grumbled, his hand sliding from my chin to rest at the base of my neck, the rough palm pressing against my collarbone. I could feel my skin heating up, my face suddenly flushing. "What happened to the shot glasses?"

"We polished off the drinks and chucked 'em. Come on, you want this or not? Open up."

I scoffed but played along, letting him pour a bit of vodka straight into my mouth. James grinned, his gaze fixed on my lips as I swallowed. He swiped away a droplet that had slid down to my chin with his finger.

"Good girl," he teased, a mischievous smile on his lips as he locked eyes with me. "See? Wasn't that hard."

"Shut up, Hetfield," I shot back, giving him a playful shove, my face heating up even more. He huffed, made a face at me, then strolled off toward the drink coolers without a backward glance.

"Hey! That's my vodka!" Lars protested angrily, before trailing after James. "Get back here, damn it, I haven't finished drinking!"

I watched them go, an uneasy feeling creeping into the depths of my chest. Why did it suddenly feel like maybe I shouldn't have shown up? These were my friends, right? So why did everything seem more complicated than it should be?

"They get really happy when you’re here," Kirk observed. I blinked, surprised by his words. He shot me a smile, but his eyes seemed intrigued.

"What do you mean?" I asked, and he shrugged.

"Just that you can tell they really like you."

I ended up talking to Kirk for a few minutes, both of us getting a good laugh watching Lars and James from a distance. Lars was on a mission to reclaim his vodka bottle, while James danced around him with ease. Kirk turned out to be a really cool guy; laid-back and easy to chat with. Eventually, Cliff and Leanne joined us, hauling in a crate of beers that we gladly shared among the four of us.

When the beer stash ran dry, I volunteered to restock. I cruised to the kitchen, where I found James slouched at the table, his head buried in his arms, the vodka bottle now empty and cast aside at his feet.

"Ah, there you are," he mumbled, his voice slurred, and his eyes a bit blurry as he caught sight of me.

"Are you okay?" I questioned, a tad concerned by his condition. He shrugged. "Do you want some water?"

He grumbled, and I interpreted it as a "yes." Scouting around the cabinets, I found a glass and filled it with water. James promptly downed it, grimacing, his eyes blinking and honing in on my face.

"And you? Don't you need a bit of water too?"

"I'm fine," I furrowed my brow, even though I felt a bit lightheaded from the amount of beer I'd drank. "I just came to snag more beer for us. You should join. By the way, where's Lars?"

"In the bathroom," James grumbled, then he hoisted himself up, clutching the back of the chair for balance. I placed a hand on his back, trying to assist. He scowled. "You said you came to get more beer?"

"Yeah, any idea where it is?"

He pointed to the corner of the kitchen, where some cases of beer were stacked near the stove. I grabbed one of the packs, tossing it onto the table. James nabbed one of the beers, popping it open.

"James, maybe you should take a breather," I suggested, and he snorted.

"Why?" he asked, staring at me with a furrowed brow, his blue eyes defiant. "I've been waiting for weeks to see you, and now that you're here, you don't even want to be near me. At least drinking makes it a little more fun for me."

I blinked, my mouth opening in surprise as I tried to process what James had just said. It's not like I was angry, annoyed or avoiding James at all, but the worry about Dave and my parents reappearing in my life made it a bit harder to enjoy myself this time. However, for James to think that had anything to do with him? That wasn't right.

"This has nothing to do with you," I uttered in a low voice. He approached, his brow furrowed, placing the open beer on the table. "I don't want you to think..."

"Think what? That you're done being my friend?" he took another step closer, and I backed up, hitting the cold wall. He rested one hand on the wall, leaning down so his face was at the same level as mine. My heart squeezed seeing the anguish in his eyes. "Since you moved to Los Angeles, we hardly see each other anymore. You not into me anymore?"

"Don't say that," I whispered, my voice trembling, my eyes filling with tears hearing the bitterness in his voice. As complicated as things were, the last thing I wanted was for my friends to think I didn't want to be with them. "James, this isn't fair..."

And then he kissed me.

Maybe I should have seen it coming. Perhaps I should've picked up on the closeness and tension that had been steadily building between us since the day he first laid eyes on me. All the hugs, the laughter, the comfort, the advice. The way his blue eyes were always locked onto mine. Maybe I should've caught on sooner. It's not like it was some big secret, especially since Dave got the boot from the band. But somehow, I clung to the hope that I was wrong. That the bond between us was stronger than any attraction he might have. That he wouldn't risk doing something that could change it forever. Something irreversible.

Something like a kiss.

Instead, there he was, his body pinning mine against the wall, his hands cradling my face, his lips moving against mine with a desperate hunger I never thought I'd find in his arms. For a moment, all I could feel was him —his scent, his body, his kiss. But my blissful confusion lasted no more than a few seconds before it was replaced by panic: this wasn't right. This shouldn't be happening. We were friends. I had a boyfriend.

I shoved my hands against his chest, giving him a solid push. He pulled back abruptly, his blue eyes showing a hint of sobriety as he took in my state—my face all red, breath coming quick as my heart raced, and my stomach filled with a million butterflies. For a beat, it was just us, his eyes glued to mine in a mix of confusion and ecstasy, before anger started bubbling up in my chest, ready to explode. I shook my head, in disbelief, and stormed out of the kitchen in a burst of rage that seemed to leave him bewildered.

I sprinted past Cliff, Leanne, and Kirk, barely registering the surprised looks they shot my way as I bolted to the front of the house. I plopped down on the curb, my breath coming quick, almost in a state of panic as I desperately searched my pockets for my pack of cigarettes and lighter. When I finally found them, it was useless; my hands were shaking so much, my breath all over the place as I tried to hold back tears, that I just couldn't light my cigarette.

"Nore? Shit, what happened?" I heard Cliff ask. I looked up to see that he had followed me and was standing beside me, staring at me with a confused expression on his face.

"Cliff..." I began, my voice shaking. He settled beside me, taking my hand in his, gripping it firmly while his eyes scanned my face, genuine concern etched on his features. "Cliff, James..."

"Did you guys have a fight?" he asked, furrowing his brow. I sniffled, shaking my head.

"Cliff, he kissed me," I murmured, suddenly feeling like I was 15 again, talking to Cliff on the phone about some boy from school who had broken my heart. His eyes widened at my words, his incredulous expression slowly being replaced by one of anger.

"And why are you crying like this? Did he force you? I'll beat the crap out of him..." he growled, letting go of my hand and starting to stand up.

"Cliff, no!" I exclaimed, tugging him by the hand. He looked at me, confused. "He didn't force me. It just happened out of nowhere. I just... Cliff, I have Dave. I never thought James..."

"You didn't know he liked you? Nore, that was kind of obvious," he interrupted, and I groaned in frustration.

"It's not that! Cliff, I don't know what I'm going to do. I don't want him to think... I just wanted to be friends with him. Why do things have to be so complicated?" I asked, my eyes filling with tears again. Cliff stared at me for a moment before sitting back down beside me with a sigh. He pulled me close into a hug, and I rested my head on his shoulder.

"First, let's go back to the party, and I'll get you some water, okay? We can talk to James later if we need to. But knowing him... If you left like that, I doubt he'll want to talk about it."

Cliff was more right than I thought; when we got back to the party, James was nowhere to be found. I tried to cheer up, especially for Leanne and Cliff, but it was useless. I spent the rest of the day worried about James, wondering where he might be, and if I had hurt him beyond repair.

When the party wrapped up, Cliff, Leanne, and I hopped into a taxi to Leanne's house. I had left my motorcycle in Joe's garage and planned to swing by the next day to grab it before heading back to Los Angeles. I tried to perk up as Leanne and Cliff enthusiastically decided what to order for dinner, but not even a hot shower was enough to lift my spirits; I was more intoxicated than I wanted, concerned about my friend, and trying to ignore how the feeling of his lips on mine kept replaying in my head every five minutes, which basically made me want to die.

"You don't need to worry about him. He'll show up," Cliff assured me later, after we had finished off the pizza Lea had ordered for dinner. The news was playing on the TV, and I could hear the water running in the bathroom as Lea took a shower, but I wasn't really paying attention to any of those things. "I mean, he could already be home... I tried calling, but I think Lars and Kirk must have passed out as soon as they got there."

"What am I gonna do, Cliff?" I asked, softly. I was totally lost. Now that all the lines in my friendship with James had blown up in my face, I didn't know what to do — and I didn’t want to deal with any of it. There was already too much on my mind. But I couldn't just pretend it didn't happen, either.

Cliff didn't say anything; in fact, I don't think he knew what to say. Instead, he grabbed my hand and pulled me in for a tight hug. I sighed, shutting my eyes, trying to soak up that brief moment of calm. Wishing it could magically wipe away the ache in my heart — even though I knew it couldn't.

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omegalomania · 1 year

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no ok like. like i have to break this down i am actually losing my mind. whenever i visited my grandparents on my dads side as a kid theyd put on field of dreams like, constantly. it would just be running in the background, sometimes multiple times per day. the background radiation of that movie is just kinda in my dna and it awoke something in me today.

field of dreams is about faith. it's a guy who had a strained relationship with his late father because they were both BIG baseball buffs, but the main character's personal hero was shoeless joe jackson, a chicago white sox player who was mostly known for his participation in the black sox scandal despite being an incredibly gifted batter. mc and his father disagreed heavily about jackson, with his father calling him a criminal but the main character idolizing him as a hero.

a little while after his father passes away, main character gets these voices telling him if you build it, he will come. he decides to mow down a huge chunk of his cornfield and build a baseball field in its place, which basically everyone in his life considers a really fucking terrible move since that means he's massively dropped the sale value of his property and also is gonna lose all the money he shouldve gotten from corn. but he did this all on faith - building it, so he will come.

the field gets inhabited by numerous ghostly players from the past, all of them legends, and among them is shoeless joe jackson. there's almost this expectation that he is who was supposed to come - the main characters personal hero. but by the end of the film, he learns that one of the players on the field is actually his late father. he will come. the one defining relationship in his life that the main character was never able to reconcile.

in the final scene, he asks his father if he wants to play a game of catch. and as they pass the ball back and forth, we pull back and see that a line of cars has started to form. people are coming to see the game between father and son. people are gathering around to watch them play.

its a movie about faith. tear down your whole life and build a baseball field. build it, and he will come. build it, and they will come. in the emptiness of some random cornfield, there is magic, and there is a way to reach back into the past.

and people will watch you do it. people will gather around from all over the world to see this small, intimate window between two people they don't actually know.

its a movie about faith. i will defend the faith, going down swinging. and fob had to have such faith in us for this to work, didnt they? they planted a single, cryptic ad in a newspaper in chicago. no media hype, no socials, nothing. just one ad, in one newspaper, in chicago.

but thats the thing. it worked. we spread it like wildfire regardless. we all latched onto it. they did this small thing on the faith that we would know what to do with it and it fucking worked.

because crowds are won and lost and won again. but our hearts beat for the diehards.

#fall out boy #*making poasts #i feel as though pete wentz personally reached into my childhood and tenderly breathed something back into it #im reeling from this. this unlocked emotions i /didnt remember i had/#this movie was something i just...forgot about until i remembered it a couple days ago. thinking about it.#couldnt remember the ending at first #and then this comes to me. and i remember. i remember what the ending was.#a dad and his son playing a game of catch. and the field fills up with spectators gathering to watch.#im feeling so. some kind of way. about all of this.

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oceanasky · 1 year

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Just finished season 2! It was amazing. I was prepared to fast forward through most of the teen bits like I did in season 1, but I quickly got sucked in.

I liked that they showed Joe has a little bit of darkness with the flashbacks of him in high school, it sets him up the possibility he’ll be able to meet Georgia on more equal footing.

Although Georgia says “I think of everything,” I honestly believe she didn’t really see Joe that way. For her, he was a symbol of hope. He was everything she wanted for her own kid. When they meet again, she cares about him, flirts with him, and manipulates him, but I don’t think she views him as a legitimate option. Whenever they have a moment, it freaks her out. She thinks he’s too good for her and, on some level, still sees him as that boy at the rest stop. But now that he’s been honest about his feelings, and she had her strong reaction to Cynthia sleeping with him, I think a seed has been planted. Even if she insists that “love isn’t enough.”

Zion is her penguin in part because she resents him on some level for getting to have his life. He got to explore and grow up and she set him free to have that, but it makes it hard for them to be together. He has grown into the best dad though and is so good with Austin. Also, Simone is lovely and a healthy choice for him. Although I was worried when they explained she’s a criminal defense attorney....

Gil is terrifying. All the garbage he dripped in her ear about how she’s worthless spoke to her deepest fears about being trapped by her past.

She sees Paul as her knight in shining armor and she loves the idea of him and all he represents--she enjoys calling herself the mayoress--but he resents the way she’s a force. His “I won’t be disrespected in my own home” was a major warning sign for me. He loves Georgia, but her secrets horrified him (honestly, fair) and he loves his image and his political career.

Anyway, I hope they have a season 3 and that it ends with Georgia somehow getting together with Joe for keeps.

#ginny and georgia #georgia miller #georgia x joe

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joekeeryswife · 2 years

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Hi! So I just came across this Tik Tok: https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMNkycKMn/?k=1 and thought about a blurb with Joe/Steve, would you mind writing something similar? Imma a sucker for dad!joe/steve 😻

baby kisses - j.k

that is the cutest video i’ve ever seen stop it! a nappy is the British word for Diaper. i hope this was okay <33

you had just gone back to work after 4 months of maternity leave and to say you missed seeing your baby was an understatement. you missed seeing her smile at you throughout the day, you missed nap time where you would have her on your chest, feeling her small body move up and down with each breath she took, and you missed having family time with her and Joe. you would usually all be sat downstairs together whilst you and Joe watched a movie but recently you had been so tired after each shift, you went straight to bed after greeting them both.

you had just pulled into the driveway and saw most of the lights were off in the house so you assumed that they had both gone to bed and that Joe had left the light on so you could see. you checked the time on your phone and saw that it was 8:21pm. this was your first 12 hour shift on the birthing ward and you did not enjoy yourself. every few hours you would have to pump and dump which was wasteful and you just wish you stayed off for that full year of maternity leave you were offered.

you walked into the house and immediately chucked off your coat, shoes and bag and left them by the front door. all you wanted to do was find Joe and Esme and just hold them both. you felt as though you hadn’t spent time with them in weeks and you just needed them. you were pulled out of your trance when you heard loud giggles coming from your bedroom. you ran up the stairs as fast as you could to see Esme laying on her back only in a nappy and socks with Joe laying over her, smothering her in kisses.

“hi angels” you said in a tired voice but your face has a massive grin covering it. you walked to the bed and sat next to them both, planting a kiss on Joe’s head and then leaning down to leave one on Esme’s head. Joe said his hellos before going back to smothering Esme in hundreds of kisses and she tried to return them. he bent down to her lips where they shared a quick kiss before he went back to her neck. her giggles got louder with each kiss he placed on her. “that’s so precious” you laughed along with Joe as he moved his hair out of the way which had fallen down his face.

“you’re so cute aren’t you” he said to her as he lent down to kiss her neck again. she wriggled and laughed under him as her hands moved to the side of his face. you secretly pulled out your phone and recorded the interaction between Joe and Esme as her laughed got even louder. she then put her feet on his chest and accidentally ‘pushed’ him away from her and her face went blank and then she started frowning. “she pushed me away” he said to you, laughing and bending back down to her. the frown on her face quickly changed into a toothless grin.

her grin turned into more giggles when he kissed her cheek softly, her hands reaching up for his cheeks when he got close enough. “is that funny” he said, kissing all over her neck again. he turned her head to the side this time, mouth wide open as she tried to eat Joe’s face. “she’s trying to eat you” you said, seeing her mouth was still wide open, making you laugh. “are you trying to eat me?” Joe said, leaning up from her neck to look her in the eyes.

he bent back down and this time her tongue touched his cheek. “oh she got me” he said, leaning away from her. she then put her hand in her mouth as he bent back down to her. “didn’t we miss mama today? yeah we did. we don’t like it when mamas away do we? no we don’t” he said. stroking Esme’s cheek softly. you sighed and turned off the camera before looking at him. “you know i don’t like being away. but i have a week off now so” you said, leaning your head on his shoulder.

“we just miss you. you should of stayed off for the full year y/n. you’re gonna stress yourself out.” he said. his words hurt. you didn’t want to go back to work but because your hospital you worked at was short staffed, your manager had begged you to go back to work with a pay rise. “i know. i just felt bad” you said as Esme grabbed your finger with her hand and pulled it towards her mouth, luckily you had washed your hands before leaving work. “you should have said no, you just had a baby, they shouldn’t have asked you” Joe said as he kissed your forehead. Joe and your manager did not get along, she was rude, snobby and basically took you away from your baby, but there was nothing he could do now.

“Joe i can’t do anything about it now. let’s just not talk about work this week and focus on Esme, she’s more important” you said, looking up at him. he bent down and placed a kiss on your lips for the first time that day. you kissed back and turned your head back to Esme who was still chewing on your finger. “i love you y/n” he said, leaving a few kisses on your forehead. “i love you more” you said, leaning into him more and he pulled an arm around your shoulders. you knew it would be fine and you knew your heart would always melt from the sight of Joe and your daughter.

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