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#living with my parents jesus christ can't wait to move out but like i can't just live on my own
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being an adult is fucking hard
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tieronecrush · 9 months
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hot & heavy
chapter nine: jesus christ 2005 god bless america
neighbor!joel x f!reader
series masterlist
series rating: E (18+ MDNI)
series summary:
over the course of three summers, joel miller becomes woven into your life. the first summer is spent falling for him; nannying his daughter and sneaking around with him in a burning love affair. you know how you feel about joel, he isn’t so sure about how it all is gonna work. the second summer is brief. a month spent at home after graduation and before you move to boston for your dream job. one look at you, one time hearing your voice, and joel is hooked again. he pines over you for that month, but you think — how is long distance of over a thousand miles going to work for a single dad? the third summer, you return home burnt out and pride bruised from your post-grad life. you need time to feel at home again, like your complete self, so you’ve come back home with no return ticket booked. it’s only a matter of time before joel seeks you out, slowly spending more time with you. without an inevitable end to the summer looming over you both, what chances are you willing to take?
word count: 9.5k
warnings: NO OUTBREAK (don’t need to worry about the mushies), no use of y/n, inexperienced reader, age gap (joel is 30/31, reader is 22), canon-divergent (sarah is 7 y/o), nanny au, pet names (sweetheart, darling, sweet girl, mariposa, etc.), polite southern manners, feeling familial and self-pressure, undefined relationship, small use of spanish cause joel is latino, pining joel, fingering, hand-job, dirty talkkk king joel miller, soft soft soft joel, sprinkle of possessive joel, Big Feelings, crying, mentions of depression diagnosis and symptoms, struggling with self, discussion of co-parenting, signing away parental rights, effects of that situation on children, major guilt form both of 'em, this chapter has some heavier angst than before!
a/n: they're baaaaaaack <333 my babies! it's 2005 and summer #3 is officially underway and i can't wait to share it with you all. thank you so very much to the bestie/cousin/sister wife/sweet, sweet gf @northernbluess for beta-reading this chapter, and for shouting about these two with me. enjoy y'all x
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You can count on your two hands the number of times you’ve been able to talk to Joel over the last year. Sarah’s schedule going into third grade was much busier, his work picking up even more business and expanding. Your job was demanding — long hours, coming in early and staying late, rejection after rejection of ideas you excitedly pitched. By a few months in, you took the hint: you were there to get coffees, do the grunt work, fill in the gaps even if it wasn’t in your job description. It wasn’t that you had a problem with doing all of those things; anyone in the industry, basically anyone with a corporate job has told you that you have to do your time, climb the rungs of the ladder to get to where you want to be. But it’s hard to justify a job that has taken you away from the one place that feels like home, the people who make you feel loved.
It came in waves at first, that feeling of heavy limbs, slogging thoughts, the perpetual cinch of your chest as if you were going to cry, with no reason to. In summer, it was easy to blame it on homesickness, adjusting to a new city, or getting used to living with your new roommates. The leaves changing brought new symptoms: staying in over the weekends, curled up in bed with the TV playing cable reruns for 48 hours straight, the lull of sleep overcoming you at odd hours. But this was merely because the cold was creeping in, and the daylight hours were waning.
Joel called one winter evening; well, the Caller ID read his name, but upon answering the phone, you were quick to realize it was someone else.
“Hello?”
“Posey, you answered! Hi!”
“Hey, Sare-Bear. What’s going on?” You find the means to prop yourself up on your pillows, turning down the volume of the TV and curling your knees toward your chest.
“Not too much, I asked Daddy if I could call you and he said yes, so I did! I was sad you couldn’t be home for Christmas last month. Santa brought me lots of presents! Oh, and Daddy took me to Disney World with Uncle Tommy after Christmas before school started again!”
Sarah’s chipper voice is scraping nails against your heart, tightening your lungs until all you can manage is shallow breaths. You hold it together long enough to hear about all her presents and the Miller family trip before you hear Joel in the background, coaxing the phone from his daughter.
“Daddy says he wants to talk to you so I have to give the phone to him. Bye, Posey, miss you!”
“Miss you too, sweet pea,” you choke out, sinking further into your bed with eyes filling with tears. You should be overjoyed to be hearing from Sarah; instead, it fills you with a reminder that you have no idea when you’ll see her again, no clue how to try to make yourself love this place.
“Hey, Mari.”
The sound of his voice was syrupy, the drawl in his tone basking you in the Texas sun that you missed so. He was like the warmth of a bonfire, the summer breeze messing with your hair while you rode in his truck with the windows down. Hearing him was like sinking into his mattress for the night, a solid, weighted arm slung around you safely.
“Hi, Joel.”
“Gotta say thank you again for the watch you sent me for my birthday. I know, you’re going to say that I’ve already said it about ten times but I need to do it again 'cause I just like havin’ a reminder of you every day.”
“You’re welcome,”  your voice wavers slightly, and you make a quick attempt to recover with a deep breath.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
No, not now, you can’t break now, you have to make it through the phone call.
Your tongue sits heavy in your mouth, your ears growing hot and tears pricking your eyes in pain as you hold it all in. One sniffle comes over you before you can catch it, concern lacing the other end of the call.
“Hey, darlin’—Hold on.”
Muffled thumps of footsteps heading upstairs crackle through the phone, the creak and click of a door closing popping in your ear pressed to the speaker.
“Sorry, I had to come up to my room. Now, what’s wrong, darlin’?” Joel’s gentle, airy tone breaks the final splinter of the dam, emotion overflowing.
“I shouldn’t let it all get to me, but, work has been awful, like all I've done this week is get coffee and take minutes for meetings, which don’t even get used because they have someone that gets to actually participate taking the minutes. And—and I can’t seem to find my place. My roommates are way closer with each other cause they’ve been working together before and at the office, it’s so cliquey and everybody keeps calling my accent cute—“
Attempting to make you smile, Joel interjects, “It is cute, sweetheart.”
“Well, you can say that ‘cause you’ve got one too. They just call me ‘Texas’ or ‘Y’all’ cause I said it once in front of the group. These people are all from around here, from generations of East Coast families and they know all about life here and constantly try to one-up each other and I can’t do it, Joel. I can’t—It’s too hard. It hurts so much.”
You’ve fully got tears streaming down your face, your voice thick with phlegm, and sniffling from your runny nose. 
“Oh, my sweet girl…” There’s a strain in his voice too, covered with a stuttered clearing sound. “Mariposa, my Mariposa, you can do It. I know it’s hard, I know. And mean people don’t make the adjustment any easier, but remember you’re the bigger person. Kill ‘em with kindness, baby.”
“It breaks my heart to hear you’re hurtin’, Mari. But you can do it. You’re smart, beautiful, funny, tough…Are you—are you talkin’ to anybody, sweetheart? A professional?”
“No…” you confess meekly, embarrassed by your lack of effort.
“It’s okay, baby, that’s okay. Maybe we can find you someone, alright? Might help to get out of the house, go see them, talk to them. We’ll find you someone, Mari. Promise.”
“Joel, I don’t want you to worry about me. You don’t have to help me find—“
“I want to. I worry about you constantly, mi amor. It’s hard not to when half of my heart’s across the country.” Silence falls over the line, picking up your hand to wipe at your tears. 
“Thank you, Joel.”
“I love you, Mariposa. Always going to.”
That was the last major phone call you had with him. He did help you find someone, a therapist, to talk to. But through them, you had come to the decision that this life wasn’t for you; corporate bullshit was leaving you burned out and defeated, and it was cooking up an unstable environment that let your sadness and disappointment fester into depressive episodes.
After that discovery, the choice was made and you phoned your parents to tell them you were planning on coming home at the end of your first-year contract if they would have you. They agreed, of course, to welcome you back home for as long as you need.  
You couldn’t bring yourself to call Joel. Hearing his disappointment in your quitting would ruin you. And, you couldn’t blame him if he got a bit angry either. You ran off and chose this life, and when it turned out to be shit, you were running home with your tail between your legs at the first opportunity. He expected so much from you and was so proud of you for choosing your dreams.
You couldn’t bear to tell him about your failure. So you didn’t.
Arrangements were made in the next few months: a replacement roommate found, a letter of resignation submitted, a one-way plane ticket purchased.
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Joel wipes at his forehead, standing in the middle of the job site he was working by himself. It was rare for him to really get his hands dirty these days; Miller Construction has grown tenfold since it started, a wider team built and Joel taking the helm as more of a manager and owner. He had a hand in every project, being the one to design and plan everything, leaving the execution to be led by Tommy and his employees.
This was a particular job, though, and one he wanted to make sure was perfect.
Your dad had approached him in early Spring, walking over while Joel mowed the lawn. He explained what he was looking to get done — the basement converted into a studio apartment, with a new bathroom and kitchenette.
Joel agreed to help with the task, and out of curiosity he asked why they were making the change. Usually, it was in-laws, but maybe it was to increase the sale value. Maybe they were planning a move?
He heard it and zoned out immediately.
You? You were moving home?
He wracked his brain for any mention of these plans from you over the last few months, but he came up short when he realized it had been a couple of months since the last phone call. Life had gotten so busy, evenings spent with lawyers and Sarah home every weekend, trying to adjust her to the new arrangement as best as he could. There was his own news he had to tell you, but couldn’t ever find the right time to reach out when he knew how stressed out you were. He remembered missing a call from you, but he completely forgot to return it. Were you going to tell him then?
The phone call he made to you that night went to voicemail, and he left one in hopes you would return a call or message.
“Hey, Mariposa… Hope you’re doing well, amor. Your dad, uh, he came over today and asked me for help on the house. They wanna make the apartment a basement and—shit you definitely already know all of this… Are you—are you coming home?”
He couldn’t stand how he sounded, on the verge of begging and filled with nerves, so the voicemail ended after he asked. You didn’t return the call.
Standing back looking at his handiwork, he takes a deep breath. He’s poured over the decisions for every detail, your parents entrusting him with the project completely. He matched the floors to the rest of your house, but the walls are a soft green, one accented with wallpaper he painstakingly installed that is patterned with lavender, marigolds, and hydrangeas — small butterflies hidden in the flowers.
At one side of the studio space, Joel installed the bookshelf he made by hand in his garage, the built-in coming up halfway on the wall, molding covering the surface, and stained a rich, medium tone that complemented the paint choice. He imagined your rows and rows of beat-up paperbacks filling the spaces, knickknacks strewn along the top.
Your furniture was moved down from your bedroom, arranged by your mom to fit nicely within the space. It feels like you’re already living in this space, the touches of you from your things and the new items he tried to get perfectly ‘you’. A faint smile tugs at his lips, excitement trickling into his bloodstream and tingling all over.
You’re coming home.
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The first day you were back, you didn’t leave your new room.
It was out of exhaustion, but mostly out of relishing in the new space, nearly brought to tears by the thoughtfulness of your parents. When they were showing you the new studio suite of yours, you couldn’t stop smiling, turning to your mom and asking, “How did you choose the paint color? And where’d you get the bookshelf?”
Your mom laughed, shrugging as she answered, “Believe it or not, Dad and I were so busy these last few months that we told Joel just to go wild! Well, not wild, but he made all the choices — only ran the cost by us.”
“Wait, Joel did this?”
“Oh yeah, did the whole thing for free labor, too. Stand up guy. Said he just wanted to help out a neighbor — and he did the whole thing himself too, none of his guys helped him. He did a great job, huh kiddo?” Your Dad gives you a grin, extending his arms as if showcasing the room you three were already in and poking around in.
“Yeah, he did do a great job. Guess I need to thank him…” You swallow hard and toy with your bedspread as you sit at the edge of your bed, one leg bent onto the mattress, “Thank you both for this and—and for letting me come home.”
“Hey, don’t sweat it, kiddo. We love having you here, always. You stay however long you need, princess.” At that, it was simply closed, your parents never pushing for more detail than you were willing to offer at the time; both gave you a kiss on your head and a tender hug before they made their way back upstairs, leaving you to begin unpacking.
A fresh set of eyes rolls over the space, the context that each choice was Joel’s, made for you, lighting up small details. The color of the wood he used for the shelves, the wallpaper covered in your favorite flowers and butterflies; what catches your attention is a frame set on the surface of the built-ins. You pick it up, free hand jumping to your chest as you study the content.
A drawing, signed in the bottom right corner by a “Sarah M.” It’s of a garden, lush greenery with an opening in the middle. Joel stands at one side, with dark hair and a scribbled beard, Sarah in the middle with her bouncy curls. On the other side of Sarah is a depiction of you in your sundress from the day at the butterfly garden last summer. The closest thing to a photo of the three of you.
Placing the frame back where you had found it, you hold back your tears, rubbing circles in your thumping chest as you look around the room for five things you can see, four things you can touch, three things you can hear, two things you can smell, and one thing you can taste.
At the third out of four things you can touch, your eyes fall to your bed, pink plaid poking out from between your pillows drawing you nearer. You pull out the shape from your bedding, coming face to face with the long-eared, stuffed bunny that you passed down to Sarah last year. Flopsy.
You curl the animal into your chest, squeezing it as you climb onto your bed and lie down. Bringing it up to your face, you inhale the smell of the Miller house, the smell of your previous summers. It calms your rapid pulse, each deep breath lulling you to sleep.
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Somehow, despite being each other’s next-door neighbors, you’ve managed to avoid Joel and he’s avoided you for the last few days. It wasn’t like you weren’t thinking about him — no, you were constantly thinking about him. Driving past his house, walking past his driveway, every time you wake up in your room and are faced with all of what he did for you. 
But finally seeing him, talking to him, you were going to be faced with the reality of telling him that you couldn’t make it, even with all of his support. The thought of watching his face fall when you have to admit you moved across the country for what amounted to nothing, broke his heart for dreams that ended up being the opposite of what you wanted.
Joel avoided you, simply to give you some time to adjust and also, to skirt around the fact that he wasn’t there for you when you must have needed him the most. Plus, he had his own news to share with you, and he kept it in to keep you from worrying. He knew if he had told you then, when you were away, you would be on the next flight home to help him. He couldn’t make you do that, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to say no to you coming either. And now, he’ll have to admit all of this to you — to tell you that he kept this from you and watched your face fall into hurt.
This sunny Saturday morning, you’ve taken to walking door to door with all of the parents in the neighborhood, offering yourself to babysit or nanny to fill the summer while you figure out what you want to do with your life. Most were surprised to see you back home, but eager to take down your number, promising to reach out if they needed help. 
On your way back home, you’re on Joel’s side of the cul-de-sac, biting your lip as you get a view of his back in a white tee, shoulders straining as he stretches over the hood of his truck. He squeegees the front windshield, the truck covered in soap suds from him washing it.
As if feeling eyes on him, he turns over his shoulder to see you walking up. Completely turning around, he leans back against the hood, waving to you with a held-back smile. Joel eyes you in your cut-off shorts, licking his lips and humming to himself when he sees his navy t-shirt on you, the one he gave you last summer. 
“Now, Miller, I haven’t seen you wash that dirty ass truck once the past two summers. And now you’re out here in your little shorts and white tee as soon as I get back? Suspicious.”
On his driveway now, you stand a few feet apart, a bright teasing smile on your face. Joel can’t help but feel the familiar itch in his fingers, gripping the squeegee tighter. His butterfly is back in his stomach, stirring to life as its wings start fluttering at the sight of you, rising to his chest at the sound of your voice.
“Bit suspicious that this is the first time you just so happen to stop by to say hello, is it not, Mariposa?” he asks with a raise of his eyebrows, smirk tugging up one side of his lips and exposing his dimple.
“Wha—Oh, shut up. I was stopping by to offer to help you, for your information.”
“Oh yeah? Alright then, grab a sponge, sweetheart,” he nods to the bucket on the asphalt, tossing the squeegee into the grass. You pick up a sponge out of the bucket, ringing it out a bit before going over and starting to wash the other side of his car. Joel disappears around the side of the house, coming back with the hose running water to rinse the car off.
“Think you missed a spot, Joel,” you giggle, moving the sponge in circles.
“Y’know what? I think I missed a really big spot. Kind of on the other side by you.” He’s got a devilish smirk painting his face, mischief glinting his eyes in the sunlight. He stalks around the car, moving his thumb toward the end of the hose.
“Joel, don’t you dare…”
“What, darlin’? You look a little hot. Think you need to cool down.”
“Joel! Don’t, you shithead!”
In a last-ditch effort, you toss your sponge at his chest before trying to run away. It’s fruitless, shrieking as you feel the cold water spray at your legs. You turn around to face Joel chasing you with the hose, his thumb at the end to make the water pressure higher and shoot farther. It’s as if it’s raining, the water dripping from above; you cup your hands over your head, closing your eyes as you attempt to avoid the spray.
“Okay, okay! I've cooled down, please!”
All you hear is a laugh in response, the sound multiplying the goosebumps that the cold water has caused. With your eyes squeezed shut, you're blind as you run around the car, hitting directly into something solid, sturdy, but much softer than metal. A small ‘oof’ exhales out, one arm wrapping around you to steady you.
Opening your eyes, you see Joel with a wide, childish grin and a deepened dimple on his right cheek. The crinkles next to his eyes are showing and you can see the wet spot in his white shirt from the sponge hitting him.
“May I propose a treaty?”
“If it keeps you from spraying me with the hose, sure.”
He laughs again, sliding his hand across your back.
“You come over tonight and I won’t spray you again.”
“Hmm,” you hum as you consider it, eyes widening as Joel moves to get the hose on you again, “Okay, deal! Hose down, Miller!”
Happily, Joel throws the hose into the grass, tightening his arm in a half-hug. His lips as your ear, he speaks sweetly and kisses your cheek. “Good to have you home, Mari.”
You help him clean up the rest after he finishes rinsing the truck and shuts off the hose, lingering with him on the driveway.
He nods inside with a smile, “Someone else’s been waitin’ to see you if you wanna come in for a bit.”
“That would make my day. I’d love to see that someone,” you say through a smile, cheeks hurting from laughing and grinning for the past ten minutes.
Joel leads you inside, spotting Sarah on the couch. He walks ahead of you into the living space, heart swelling at the shocked reaction Sarah has to you standing in their house.
You are feeling the same — the ache in your bones from the last few months quells once you step foot in their house, limbs lightening when Sarah jumps off the couch and runs over, or well, runs into you.
“Posey! I can’t believe you’re back!” Sarah exclaims, giggling excitedly when you scoop her up into a hug and hold her flush against you. A kiss is pressed to the top of her head, a familiar scent in her hair from the product you use. You exchanged equally ecstatic greetings before she pulled you into the kitchen with Joel, sitting at the table to chat. Sarah sits across your lap, kicking her feet as she asks a million questions about why, how, what, and more.
You answer all of them, Joel interjecting for some as you explain to her that you’ll be here for the whole summer, at least, and that you’ll still be right next door.
Rubbing her back, you look down at Sarah with a gentle smile, “I have been meaning to come to ask you, sweet pea, but I found a mutual friend of ours on my bed when I came home. How did Flopsy end up back at my house? Did he get lost while your dad was working on my new room?”
“No, he isn’t lost! I know he’s there cause I put him there. I thought you might’ve missed him, and that he might make you happy and cheer you up because Daddy said you were missing home.”
Joel was unaware of the animal his daughter left behind, swallowing hard as she mentioned how he explained you were feeling homesick back then when you two had talked. His eyes are glued to you as he watches the emotions in your eyes, sadness flashing in them before you recover, visibly sitting up and the corners of your mouth tugging up into a gentle smile.
“He made me feel much better, sweet pea, so thank you. I can bring him back next time, okay?”
Sarah shakes her head firmly, making strong eye contact with you as she says, “No, you should keep him 'cause maybe you might need him while you get used to being home. He helped me get used to staying with Daddy all the time now, so I thought he could help you be at home again, too.”
You glance at Joel, who’s looking away from you now and toying with the edge of a placemat that’s laid out on the surface. Sarah turns her head, looking between the two of you before Joel clears his throat.
“Hey Bug, we gotta head out to get you over to Emily’s house for your sleepover tonight. Can you go get your bag from upstairs? And say goodbye to Posey.”
A quick hug and she is zipping off, leaving the two adults sitting at the table in a moment of silence. It’s Joel who breaks it again, looking at you with something unreadable on his face.
“You’re coming over tonight, yeah? I—I, um, I think we have some catching up to do.”
“Yeah, I think so too. I’ll see you tonight.” You stand up and he follows you to the door, taking your hand in his to pull you back as your hand reaches for the doorknob.
“It is really good to have you home, Mariposa. Feels like—I don’t know, life feels like summer again. I missed you.”
“I missed you too, Joel. I’ll see you tonight,” you lean in, stretching up to kiss his cheek before slipping out of the door and into your backyard. 
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At sunset, you slip out of the sliding glass door, walking across the pool area and into Joel’s backyard. Climbing up his deck stairs, you reach his back door and knock, biting back a smile when you can see him approaching with a puzzled expression. He opens the door, looking at you through the screen with a brown raised.
“Back door? This a new thing now?”
“S’closer to my new room.” You shrug and knock your knuckles on the metal frame of the screen door. Joel nods for you to step back, opening the door and holding it for you to come inside, shutting it and the windowed, wooden door behind it. Turning around to you, he steps forward, snaking his arms around your hips. A soft smile peels apart his lips with a relaxed sigh, leaning some of his weight into you.
“Hi, Mari.”
“Hey, J.”
“You smell good,” he says, muffled into your hair, lips pressing a kiss to the side of your head, “And I like that nickname.”
A quiet giggle breathes out from your mouth, hands coasting up and down his biceps. He moves to tuck your head under his chin, swaying back and forth in the middle of his kitchen.
“Thought we had stuff to talk about?” You question, biting your bottom lip and making no move to unfurl yourself from his arms. This is what you had been missing so much, feeling his radiating warmth and care. His tenderness, his love.
“We do. But I get to just hold you first, darlin’. Been waiting too long to do this again.” Squeezing you closer, he tucks his chin in to lay his lips against the top of your head, fingertips ghosting up your spine. It’s at least two minutes before he moves, untangling himself from you with one last kiss on your forehead.
“Alright, mi Mariposa, how about we sit on the couch? You can go first, sweetheart,” his voice crackles in your ears, feeling the reverb in your chest from his low drawl. Hands at your sides guide you into the living room, letting go to allow you to sit down, Joel taking a seat next to you and facing you. “You wanna go first, Mari? S’alright if you don’t…”
“No, I do. I think I should at least…” You sigh and focus your stare on a stitched seam of the back of the couch, tracing it with your fingers as you begin to recount what brought you home, “I don’t know if you remember that one phone call we had in the winter, but it was after that, you helped me find someone to talk to?”
“I remember.”
“Well, I started seeing them weekly, sometimes twice a week, and it helped to be able to talk about everything, but there wasn’t too much I could do to help the situation I was in. My, um, my therapist diagnosed me with depression.”
Your voice was thick, phlegm building up as your emotions started to get the best of you, stare still unfocused from Joel. His hand lays over yours, pulling you away from the movement and to his face. There’s no judgment in his eyes, only concern and piety. Without any words, he slides closer to you, pulling your legs across his lap and slipping an arm around your back.
“And in our sessions, I wasn’t really getting much better with the tools she was giving to me, so we made a plan. It started with her asking me where I felt the most myself, the most comfortable, where I could work on everything without the added…stress of work and feeling isolated. And then it was a bit of a no-brainer to make arrangements to come home. And—and I meant to call you, I really tried, Joel. But I couldn’t bear to have to tell you that I—I failed and that I broke your heart for nothing. You believed in me so much, and I couldn’t do it. I left everything behind, left you behind and nothing came out of it. And I couldn’t bring myself to call cause I couldn’t hear your reaction. I didn’t know if you’d care if I came back. If you would be mad or disappointed…”
You exhale with a long breath, tears flowing freely down your cheeks while Joel’s fingers work to wipe them away as quickly as they fall.
“Sweet girl…My Mariposa, I am so sorry you went through that. I’m so glad that you weren’t alone, that you had support, but I hate that I wasn’t there when you needed me,” he swallows and holds you against his chest, “I love you, sweet girl, always going to. I knew you had to go because I knew you might’ve regretted it if you didn’t try, but, darlin’, mi amor, I could give two shits if you live some big corporate life if it doesn’t make you happy. That is all I want for you, Mari, and if that wasn’t what you had up there, then I want you to find it wherever you are.”
You sniffle and wrap your arms around his neck, both of you embracing each other tightly — so tightly you nearly can’t breathe, but it feels comforting, like a weighted blanket over your body and soul.
“Selfishly, I’m glad you came home. Missed you, my sweet girl, and ‘m always gonna be here for you. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there when you needed me, I should have been better, but there was just so much happening…” he admits, guilt and shame oozing out of his words and tone.
You pull back, brow furrowed as you hold the side of his jaw.
“Did something happen?”
“Um, yeah. Something did happen, in the spring…” he runs a hand over his face, sighing before he drops his forehead against yours, staying silent for a moment before sitting up again and gripping onto the fabric of your shirt.
“I have full custody of Sarah now.”
He watches as confusion falls over your face, melding into concern as he sees your thought process happening. He knows you’re thinking about Sarah, all of the little things she said earlier this afternoon must be clicking finally. The rhythm of his heart is racing, waiting for your questions.
“What? What happened? How? Are you okay, is Sarah okay?”
“It’s alright, Mari, I’m okay. Sarah’s adjusting. It was just sudden, and I had to scramble to get everything in order while also figuring out how to tell her. I really haven’t told her the truth, I c—I can’t do that to her…” His voice drops to a whisper as he trails off, eyes welling with tears of his own.
“Oh, J, babe, what happened? If you want to tell me, I’m here for you.”
He clears his throat, twisting the handful of fabric he’s got, “Tiff approached me after her last drop off when Sarah was inside the house, and she told me that…She basically said she met someone new, he was movin’ out of state for his job, and she wouldn’t be able to afford her child support anymore. I asked her what she was gettin’ at and she said, she said she wanted to sign her rights away. That she couldn’t do it all anymore.”
“I mean, I couldn’t bring myself to tell Sarah that—that her mom didn’t want to take care of her anymore. So I only told her that she would be gone for a while and that she would be staying at home for all her weekends for now. I don’t know what to do, baby. And it was all so chaotic, and I couldn’t call you 'cause I didn’t want to add to your stress with work and life up there.”
In response, you hold yourself around him silently, arms at his neck, straddling his lap and wrapping your legs around his waist like a koala in a tree. Joel relaxes into you, damp droplets soaking into your shirt and skin as he lays his head on your shoulder. All of his stress, his anxieties come out. He knows he should also be comforting you, for everything you’ve told him, but it’s like a door has opened and everything is piling out of him. He’s held it together for months now, his only person to talk to being Tommy, but he doesn’t want to burden his younger brother with all of his problems all the time.
Not that he wants to do that to you, either, especially with what you’ve been through, but at this moment, all he can think about is your touch, your warmth, your care.
“You could never be anything but an addition to my life, Joel. Even if it’s a problem, I want to help you solve it or be there for you while you work through it. ‘M here now, we both are, so we can get through our things together.”
At his next sniffle, he pulls away, staying wrapped up in you but sitting so he can see your face.
“Guess these last few months have been messes for both of us, huh?” You break the seriousness of the moment with your chuckle, sending Joel into a fit of laughter as he nods.
“Guess so. Might’ve been better if either of us called. Don’t think we’d be here right now crying.”
“That’s life though, isn’t it? At least ours. Miscommunication continually brings us back together. I think maybe we should quit that habit though.”
“I agree…” he smiles sweetly, eyes pouring adoration into yours, “All this talk about us, I guess my other question would be, what are we? I mean, you don’t have an end to the summer, right? So maybe we could—“
“Let’s give us a proper shot. No expiration date. We can just be together and see what comes of it, yeah?”
“Yeah, Mariposa, yeah. I would love that,” Joel leans in, catching your lips in a slow, syrupy kiss. It’s languid, stealing your breath and giving you his, melting your tongues together and sighing at the taste of you. He pulls back, ghosting his lips over yours with an infectious smile.
“So, is that it? Are you officially mine, Mariposa? Mi Mariposa es solo mi Mariposa (My butterfly is only my butterfly)?”
“Yours. And you’re mine, so don’t forget it,” you chuckle and he kisses you sweetly again, shaking his head as his nose fits against yours.
“Never going to forget that, are you kidding me? Hearing that automatically entered my top five best life moments.”
“God, you’re such an idiot…”
“Yeah, I am, baby. An idiot in love. A fool for you,” he laughs and tightens his grip around you, arms settling under your thighs as he stands from the couch, carrying you toward the stairs, “Also an idiot who’s getting to go to bed with the girl of his dreams. So, really, who’s an idiot now? Think I made some damn good decisions.”
“Can I take back my answer to your question?” You tease, shrieking when he drops you onto his bed, a smirk on his face as he shakes his head.
“No takebacks. Stuck with me now, Mariposa,” he climbs over you and kisses you again, deeper than before but as innocent as the giggly kisses you shared earlier.
“Good thing you’re a good kisser.”
“Yeah? Bet you know what else I’m good at, don’t you, sweetheart?” He sits back on his haunches, eyes dragging over you laying back on his bed, tongue poking out to lick his lips.
“Can I have you, darlin’? Pretty please?”
A hard swallow comes from your throat, crossing your arms over your stomach as you look up from the mattress to Joel.
“I want you to, but I’ve…I haven’t done anything since—“
“I understand, sweet girl. You wanna ease back into it with me, hermosa? We’ll go slow,” he watches you nod, pushing up the hem of your t-shirt to under your breasts, “No bra? Sigues siendo mi diablita, no? (You’re still my little devil, aren’t you?)”
As you sit up, he tugs the materials over your head, folding over to attach his lips to one of your already pebbled nipples. A whimper slips from your mouth, tangling fingers into his hair and arching into his mouth. He pays the same attention to the other side, soft moans filling the room.
Joel separates from you with a pop of his lips, grinning as he reaches for the back collar of his t-shirt and pulls it over his head. You happily sigh as you run your hands across his strong chest and shoulders, tickling your fingertips down his stomach as he watches you slip his shorts’ waistband down a few inches.
“Mm, I have an idea, sweetheart…You wanna try something we haven’t done before?” Joel kisses your lips before peppering kisses along your jaw.
“What d’you have in mind?”
“Take the rest of your clothes off, darlin’. ‘M gonna sit up at my headboard and you come sit on my lap, m’kay?”
You follow his instructions, licking your lips as you watch him stand and strip in front of you, his hard cock slapping against his stomach, leaking already out of need. He sits on his bed, head leaned against the headboard with pillows supporting his back. With your shorts and panties thrown into a heap with his clothes, you walk over the mattress on your knees, lifting one to the other side of his thighs.
“So beautiful, Mariposa. The most beautiful,” he sighs as he licks into your mouth, grabbing handfuls of your ass, “How did I get so damn lucky?”
“Could say the same thing about you, J. Pretty boy.” 
He chuckles against your lips, shaking his head. “Not as pretty as you, mi amor. Estás preciosa. Mucho más preciosa que cualquier flor o puesta de sol o estrella. La cosa más hermosa que he visto.”
“What does that all mean?”
“You are gorgeous. Much more gorgeous than any flower or sunset or star. The most beautiful thing I've ever seen,” Joel speaks softly, tenderness in his eyes as he brushes your hair away from your face. 
Heat spans across the back of your neck and up to the tips of your ears, heart pounding from the look he is giving you. It feels like it’s breaking down any facade you had left, completely exposed to him with the bashful smile on your face.
“I love you, Mariposa,” he punctuates with a stealing kiss, one hand roaming around to your front to slip between your legs. Two fingers collect your arousal on their tips, dragging some to your clit as you sigh into Joel’s mouth. 
“Now, ‘m gonna touch you, baby, and if you want, you touch me at the same time, yeah?” He pulls away from your lips, nudging his nose into your cheek.
“I want to, I really want to.”
His fingers move to your entrance, gathering more along his whole fingers before pulling from between your legs and wrapping his own hand around his cock. He gives himself a few long strokes, looking into your eyes.
“Think you can spare some for me, sweet girl? Got you fucking drenched from barely even touchin’ you,” he sighs contently, leaning his head back more, “Spit on it for me, baby, and use your own hand, m’kay?”
You nod, eager to follow instructions. Folding forward, you drop saliva onto his waiting cock, watching as it slips down the side and mixes with your slick. He takes his hand away and your own wraps around his base, starting slow and teasing strokes.
“Fuck,” he exhales, dragging it out as long as his sigh is, “Missed you so much, sweet girl. You’re my sweet girl now, aren’t you? Only mine.”
His fingers find your core again, slow circles matching the energy of your strokes. A whine slips out, brows scrunching as you attempt to move your hips to get more friction.
“Please, Joel, please. Want more…”
“You want more, mi Mariposa? You want me to fuck you with my fingers, hm?” At your rapid nod, he chuckles darkly, nipping at your neck.
“Gotta give me more to get more, sweetheart. ‘M aching for you, just giving you the same treatment.”
“Mean,” you breathe out, gasping as his thick fingers tease your entrance.
“You ain’t seen mean yet, cariño,” he kisses you again as he slips one finger inside of you, the pace of your hand moving faster when you get more of what you wanted. He groans, the sound muffled into your tongue as it flicks against his, the heel of his hand rubbing against your clit. You start to bounce your hips in rhythm with your hand, imagining his cock inside of you again.
With a lewd noise, he pulls away, shallow breaths fanning across your collarbone.
“Mm, that’s right, baby. Fuck yourself on my fingers while you stroke my cock.”
His voice makes you flood his finger even more, easily slipping another into you for a few strokes before adding a third.
“Feel full, sweet girl? Feel anything like my cock?” He whispers to you as you continue to ride his hand, moving your hips and hand faster.
“So full, J. Not as good as your cock, nothing ever is, but fuck—oh fuck! Feels so good.” Your eyes close tightly as the frays of tightly coiled rope start to break inside of you. Joel takes over as your body stills with stimulation, fucking his fingers into you quickly with wet noises while his own hips move under your grip to fuck your hand.
“Come for me, my sweet girl. Let me feel what I’ve missed about this pussy. Still mine, isn’t it?”
“Yesyesyes, Joel! Oh my god, fuck I’m coming!” You open your eyes as the last fibers of the rope snap, pleasure radiating over every nerve while he continues to move under you and inside of you. The aftershocks of your orgasm fade as he whimpers in front of you, shots of warm cum coating your hand and his stomach.
“Oh fuck, Mari…” Joel picks his head up and looks at you with a breathless laugh and smile, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips as he pulls his fingers out of you.
“I love you, my girl. Mi Mariposa. Let’s get you cleaned up and get to sleep, yeah?” 
Slumber reaches the edge of your vision, drooping your eyelids as Joel guides you to his en-suite, washing your hands for you before washing his, and wiping a warm cloth between your legs. He peppers kisses to your head, shoulders, and neck as he does it all, whispering sweet nothings as he pulls you back into his bed.
“Night, Mari.”
“Night, J…Mm, before I forget, we’re getting you new sheets tomorrow. No more navy, you’ve got a girl in your life now.”
He laughs, kissing the top of your head and holding you closer to his side as he exhales, “Sure thing, my sweet girl. Can’t have all the other ladies I randomly bring up to my room think I don’t have a woman in my life, Mariposa.”
The tone is overly sarcastic and you flick his chest half awake.
“It’s not for other women to know, it’s so I don’t feel like I’m with a junior in college. Makes you look like a frat star.”
Joel laughs louder, your head shaking with his chest moving and a smile turning your lips up, before he calms himself and strokes your spine, “Okay, okay, it is the task for the morning. We’ll pick up Sarah and head to…”
“HomeGoods.”
“Alright, HomeGoods it is. Now sleep.”
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Sarah darts ahead of you both as Joel holds the door open, beelining in her Strawberry Shortcake pajamas to the first open booth she sees. Easily sliding into one side, she moves toward the wall as you two approach, patting the spot next to her.
“Posey, come sit with me!”
With a smile, you take the offered seat and look over to Joel as he settles in on the opposite side, shaking his head as he gives Sarah a playfully hurt face.
“You don’t want me to sit next to you, Bug?” he pouts.
“I wanna sit with Posey 'cause I always have to sit with you when we go places. It gets boring.”
You laugh loudly and cover your mouth when you get glares from other customers, Joel’s jaw drops for a moment before he looks at you and starts laughing as well.
“Never lose your honesty, mija.”
Sarah doesn’t seem phased by her dad’s response, moving to sit on her knees in the booth and look over the kids’ menu. Reaching up, you fluff her curls, smiling at her when she turns to look at you.
“How was the sleepover, Sare-Bear? I see you got some tinsel in your hair, it’s very pretty.”
“It was fun, but I kinda missed my stuffed animals and my own bed. I wanna have a sleepover at our house, Daddy,” Sarah looks up from the menu and to Joel, awaiting an answer. With one look at Joel, you can see the idea makes him nervous, having a handful of young girls to entertain for a whole night as a single dad. Sarah is one thing, she’s his and he can handle her attitude or boredom, but with other kids, he isn’t so sure he has a lot of tolerance.
“Um, I’m not sure, Bug. Can I think about it?” he asks with his brow furrowed, reaching across the table to nudge her arm with a smile. Sarah sighs and sits back, clearly disappointed in her father’s answer.
“Well, what about if you had a sleepover with me? I would be honored to be invited over. We could watch movies and I could do your hair or your makeup. We could paint our nails — a whole girls’ night. Plus your dad,” you turn back to Joel with a grin, winking as he chuckles.
Sarah immediately perks up, grinning wildly and bouncing in her seat, “You would come over for that, Posey? I want to have a sleepover with you. Please, Daddy, please can Posey come over?”
Joel gives you a knowing look, the secret shared between you two not living on for much longer, and he nods with a grin, “Sure, Bug. Posey can come over and stay whenever you want.”
Breakfast is filled with conversation about what you could do at said sleepover, making plans for movies, and going to the drug store to get some new nail polishes. Joel orders for the table so you can stay engrossed in conversation, and he can’t help but put a hand to his chest as he observes the two of you talking like you are best friends, despite the nearly twenty-year age difference. You treat Sarah like your own, and he reminds himself to thank you for that, someday.
When the chocolate waffles are set in front of you and Sarah, and a typical two eggs, toast, and bacon meal is laid in front of Joel, the conversation slows. After taking a sip of water, Joel faces Sarah, sharing one quick glance with you.
“So, mija, do you remember last summer when you were telling me about those classmates of yours that were boyfriend and girlfriend and they spent recess together?”
“Yeah, Luke and Katie. They are not boyfriend girlfriend anymore,” she says with an exasperated sigh, taking another bite of her waffle.
“Well, that’s too bad…Anyways, Bug, d’you remember what you told me when Posey was moving away? Like what you told me I should ask her?” You forgo your breakfast for a moment, sipping your water and darting your eyes between Joel and Sarah. She seems perplexed for a minute, tapping her chin as she thinks back in her young memory.
“I think I remember, Daddy. Why?”
Joel adjusts in his seat, clearing his throat — he’s never had to have this type of conversation with Sarah. Every woman he dated before had never gotten to this point, and after over two years of this back and forth with you, over a year of being head over heels for you, he knows it’s appropriate and that it’s time and that this is going to last until the end. If everything goes, well, how he is hoping it will go, this will be the only time he has to have a conversation like this with Sarah.
If only he knew how you were just as nervous, clammy hands gripping your condensation-covered plastic cup tighter and looking over at Sarah. Sure, she loves you, but that is as her nanny. As a family friend. Would she change her opinion if you were dating her dad? Your mind told you that you couldn’t be sure despite the way your heart was yelling at you to tell you that it would be all fine.
“I was askin’ you all this 'cause I have a big question I wanted to ask you. It’s okay to be honest, princess, I want you to know you can say whatever it is you feel, yeah?” Sarah nods in confirmation, encouraging Joel to continue, “What would you think about Posey being my girlfriend?”
“Is she your girlfriend, Daddy?” Her head whips to the side, curls bouncing as a grin grows on her face, “Are you Daddy’s girlfriend?”
The younger Miller volleys her gaze between you and Joel, eyes widened with her brows raised as she sits up eagerly. You make eye contact with Joel, nodding to him with a gentle smile.
“Yeah, mija, Posey’s my girlfriend now. Can you believe she said yes to your silly dad?” He teases and can’t help but laugh along with her as she giggles excitedly, the infectiousness of it bringing out a laugh from you.
“I’m so excited! Wait, so that means Posey is gonna be hanging out with you lots of times? And she’ll be at our house and can play with me?” Her tiny arms wrap around your bicep closest to her, leaning into your side. You drop your head onto hers and both of you look over at Joel.
“As much as Posey wants to come over, we’d be happy to have her, right Bug?” He smiles sweetly at you, holding your eyes for a lingering moment before Sarah pipes up again.
“Well, you can’t take up all the time Posey is over, Daddy, ‘cause I want to hang out with her, too.” Her arms tighten possessively and you chuckle, shaking your head.
“No need to worry about that, sweet pea,” acting as if you’re sharing a secret with her, you lean in, “Don’t tell your dad, but I think we’ll hang out the most.”
Sarah giggles at your joke, leaning back in the booth and letting go of your arm. Joel’s daughter starts to list everything she wants to do this summer, now with you instead of only her dad, and you look up to face Joel for a moment. He shrugs and smiles at you, reaching over and stealing a bite of your waffle. At your gasp, he chuckles and grins smugly, chewing the swiped sweet.
“Hey, Daddy, that’s not very polite,” Sarah reprimands, turning back to her food.
“I was makin’ sure it wasn’t poisoned, mija, just like I’m going to make sure yours isn’t too,” he takes the same from her plate, and in retaliation, you reach over and grab a piece of bacon, splitting it in half and giving one to Sarah.
“Hey! I don’t have that much bacon, y’all have massive waffles.”
“Sharing is caring. That’s what you always say to me, Daddy.”
“Yeah, J, sharing is caring. Can’t give the lesson if you can’t follow it.” You playfully stick your tongue out and Sarah imitates it, too. Joel sighs and shakes his head, leaning back in the booth.
“Is the two of you teaming up on me gonna be a thing now?”
“Yeah,” you answer at the same time as Sarah, the three of you laughing with each other.
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It was bold to come to a HomeGoods on a Sunday, all of the aisles packed with people browsing on this relaxing weekend, stowing away in the air conditioning before venturing to the other stores in the commons. Sarah grips your hand, poking around the shelves while Joel stands behind you, a hand on your waist to keep you close.
The aisle filled with sheet sets is finally discovered by the three of you, excusing yourselves to the center of the aisle past a few fellow shoppers, looking up and down before facing Joel.
“Alright, your choice. Anything but plain ol’ navy, please.”
Joel’s eyes follow the same path that yours had, combing over the options before shrugging and staring down at you again.
“You choose for me.”
“Okay, that is not the point, it is still your room and your house.”
“I made choices for your room for you, sweetheart, you choose for me now,” his timbre rings in your ears as he presses his lips into the side of your head, fingertips rubbing circles in your lower back. Sarah wanders off down the aisle and Joel calls out a warning to stay where he can see her, waiting for you as you peruse the options. After some consideration, you select a thin pinstriped set and a plain white one, holding the sets against your chest.
“What d’ya think of these? Like either of ‘em?” Joel checks them out, shrugging and smiling.
“Both look great to me. You wanna look at anything else, mi amor?” He leads you out of the aisle, taking the sets and holding them under his arm. Pursuing the store, the three of you weave around aisles, checking out some other things. Sarah excitedly runs ahead to explore the kids’ section, drawn in by glitter, sequins, and bright colors. Joel takes your hand with his open one, nodding to some furniture on display.
“D’you like any of that?” You hum, turning your attention to him when you hear his question, following his gaze to the mix of pieces. Shrugging, you squeeze his hand and grab his bicep with your opposite one.
“The chair’s nice. Personally, I prefer my handcrafted, artisan bookshelf though.”
Joel scoffs and laughs a bit at your descriptors, “M’glad to hear that, the amount of splinters I got for that thing was brutal.”
“There’s literally blood, sweat, and tears put into it then,” you tease, continuing to scan over the goods, “None of this compares to a Joel Miller original.”
“I mean, thank you, sweetheart, but I do want you to feel at home with us. I’d get whatever you liked—well, maybe not something I could make 'cause it’s less expensive for me to just do it, but I want you to have a hand in our home. Make it as much of your space as it is ours.”
“I do feel at home with you both cause it’s the two of you. I mean, I didn’t really feel completely at home until I was at your place. The drawing from Sarah and Flopsy and the fact that you built my studio for me made me feel so much more comfortable, but it was like something really settled when I saw you.” 
“Y’know, I like having little reminders of you every day, darlin’. Bedsheets, stolen bites of waffle, the stuffed animals on Sarah’s bed, my watch from you,” he lifts his left wrist to show off the round face with the army green band, kissing your cheek, “And I want whatever you are willing to give me, even if it is just those tiny moments. I would be content with that for the summer; no matter where you decide to end up, I’d cherish all the small things with you.”
Looking up at him, you give his hand a gentle squeeze, “Think we both know what I’m gonna decide, J.”
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taglist: @beskarandblasters @undrthelights @swiftispunk @joelsversion @asirenbyanyothername @ellenmunn @ja-ehyun @sw33tp1xie @marisemonteiroo @brunetteeras @beee-haw @jenna-mcgraw19 @whore-4-pedro @katifefe @joelmillerswifu @itsgiorgiaz @soph55 @wild-hearts-runfree @youcancallmeelle @jupitren @starkovli @thatgeminigirlx @livingdeadmaria @bunnyskisses @houseofballoonsth @casual-obsessions @pedro-pascal-lvr @bimbodolls-world @burningnerdchild @tuquoquebrute @mrsvedder12 @estelivi28 @bongsrconfusing @addictedtotlou @angie2274 @pedrostories @pedroholicx @theelishad @johnwatsn @elissaaa @felicityofbakerstreet @atinylittlepain @northernbluess @cannolighost
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kindestofkings · 5 months
Text
a mastermind [1]
ryan mcmahon x reader
faceclaim:phoebe bridgers
authors note: k so this is kinda an all over the place fic but I had a lot of fun making it so ENJOY! @orangeinecstasy a fellow ryan appreciator, thanks for the brainstorming 🫡
2020
yourusername
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yourusername oi have you listened to NOACF yet?? theres something special in tracks 8,9,10 and 17 or should I say someone 👀
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1975fan1 wow can't believe the 1975 broke their own no collabs rule for matty's girl of the week
yourusername you seeing this ratty? Im your girl of the week 😍😍 trumanblack wait JUST one week?? yourusername yeah so short! better cheat on me quick xxx 1975adam I just dont get you two...
rass75 celebration pints?
yourusername like you need any excuse hahah
trumanblack they're ALL special tracks thank you very much.
1975_fanbase the tumblr gays just overloaded thanks!
trumanblack anything for the cause 👍👍👍
ynfan1 really not a 1975 fan but jesus christ 2005 is so amazing, I just bought the album!
bedfordanes75 studio time was sick can we please do it again
yourusername I do need a producer for my next album...
ryanmcmahon_15 just added to their story!
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replies:
elijahhewson haha man you good? bobbyskeetz new day same crush inhalerfan1 omg you being a yn is everything!
2022
the1975
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liked by yourusername and others
the1975 I'm in love with you. out now.
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rass75 🖤🖤
yourusername its good to be back boys
pollymoney so right I am in love with yourusername
yourusername stop im blushin so hard rn heheh
trumanblack loser
yourusername lover* trumanblack eh alright then
ynhealytruther ahhh I missed you guys so much, such a hot couple
1975fan1 since when have they confirmed they're dating??
ynhealytruther
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ynhealytruther this is confirmation right?? they HAVE to be dating
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ynfan1 ah I really hope not he's kinda old for her no?
1975fan2 yeah tbf it is like 10 years or something...
1975fan1 I hope so they are the definition of bi panic
1975fan2 ew hope not shes kinda ugly
ynhealytruther absolutely no yn slander excepted here! move on with your hate
yourusername
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yourusername someone just said stop writing songs about sad things and blowjobs. best joke I've ever heard!
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trumanblack over my dead boy
yourusername pleaseeee dont tempt me with a good time 😍
1975fan1 are you guys dating?? just confirm it already
1975fan2 class music video!!
ynfan1 please date someone else, hes too old for you!!
bobbyskeetz just added to their story!
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man's (celeb) crush is in a relationship (we think) so he's turning to the drink 😔
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inhalerfan1 its yourusername isn't. cause same joshjenkinson_ cause there was defo a chance before hand!
ynfanclub
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ynfanclub guys I'm at yourusernames's secret session ah! look this is her face when people asked if she was dating matty. adorble!!! and THEN HE CAME OUT AND THEY SANG JESUS CHRIST 2005
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ynhealytruther oh what a day !!!
ynhealytruther my literal parents
ynfan1 hes literal so old ewww
trumanblack
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trumanblack just friends.
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yourusername dw guys he checked my id AND sang robbers beforehand !!
rass75 have you two ever been serious about anything in your lives? yourusername what do you mean I'm taking this job of being matthew healy's controversially young alleged girlfriend VERY SERIOUSLY 😤 trumanblack serious is my middle name mate 😍🔥🤠😎 rass75 why did I even ask....
yourusername
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yourusername Ireland I am in you. and loving you as per usual! my (second) favourite Irish artist asked me to stop by at his home gig 😢 so so honoured andrew <3
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ynfan1 I cant believe this, I'M GOING TO HIS SHOW TOMORROW NIGHT!!!
lucydacus parents.
ynfan2 you said it.
inhalerfan1 bestie for research purposes I need to know who's your fav??
yourusername hmmm research purposes you say .... 🤔 inhalerfan1 ahhh hi omgomgomgomg hello
bobbyskeetz huh @ryanmcmahon_15 see this?
yourusername just added to their story!
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inhalerfan1 OH FUCK YES I KNEW IT I KNEW IT!! inhalerfan1 thank you for answering my question &lt;3 elijahhewson honoured! are you here long? we've a drummer who's a big fan of yours, we could all link up for drinks ? ↳ hi! sounds so fun, I'm here till saturday actually so i've got time! presuming you guys know the best spot for a pint 👀 ↳ elijahhewson sir mcmahon knows the place!
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joshjenkinson_ just added to their story!
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ryanmcmahon_15 im never coming down from this. and I'll never stop talking about it
elijahhewson still havent recovered from the incredibly girlish scream he let out hahah
bobbyskeetz a king, ill never question him again
yourusername
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yourusername psa: offically go ON THE RECORD that I am not dating anyone of these wonderful human beings that are my friends. although they are very beautiful and even hotter, we're all just a homies that are a lil bit fruity 💅
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trumanblack wait what?? I thought we were married? what am I telling the kids ???
yourusername tell em their mother is in her hot girl era and their dad's a LOSER
bedfordanes75 you are such a mystery, how does your brain work 🤔
ynhealytruther nooooooo NO say sike rn RIGHT NOW
1975fan1 yay! theres still a chance 😎
inhalerfan1 oh this is really feeding my delusions hehehe
yourusername just added to their story!
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y'all are gonna be so proud I'm off to go SOCIALISE with NEW people ahh 🔥🔥
replies:
trumanblack ooh is this the drinks with bono's sons band? ↳ yourusername you betcha, trading in the nepo baby in my life for a newer model xx rass75 I cannot believe you manifested this. go get that celeb crush ↳ yourusername welll if you insist ! ynfan1 you are soooooo me coded hahahha
AHH how we doing?? Go read part two please 🫶🏼
part 2
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stinkysam · 1 year
Text
Eddie Munson - Man crush
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Warning : none
Genre : fluff
Synopsis : Eddie is happy to hear you'll live in Hawkins and can't wait for you to meet his friends.
Reader : male (he/you)
Part ONE (Summer of 85)
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Your arrival in Hawkins had been better than you thought.
On the first day, you got to reconnect with a friend you made during a summer camp, Eddie. He was crouched in front of a bag of chips while you held a bag of food for your parents.
Just as expressive as you remembered, Eddie was absolutely excited to help you sort your things out of the truck. He judged everything that was going in your room.
"Oingo boingo ?"
"Yes," you say, giving him another heavy cardboard box of your stuff "don't drop it."
"Yeah yeah."
The next day, Eddie was ringing your phone at the first hour in the morning (10am), claiming you absolutely had to meet his friends.
Friends who looked you up and down for a good minute in silence, taking you in first, unable to believe you were really… you.
"Are you really [name] ? You swear Eddie didn't pay you ?" Gareth asked.
"Yeah," continued Lucas. "How do you expect us to believe… this ?"
"Let me recapitulate, the guy you befriended at summer camp and didn't have contact with for a year decided to move, from all the cities in the United States of America, in Hawkins. Without even knowing you lived here too." Mike finally said, Grant and Jeff nodding along.
This time it was Dustin's turn to say something.
"This is worse than pure dumb luck. Or than fate itself, Eddie"
"I mean, I have my ID on me if you want…" you shrugged, scratching your head. You suppressed a smile when two of them held their hand up to you, waiting for your ID card.
"Jesus christ, he's not gonna show you his ID" protested Eddie.
"No no, I can, I can. I have to prove I'm the great [Name], don't I ?"
And so you took your ID card out, ignoring Eddie’s protest, showing it to everyone for good mesure.
"Mh. Okay" said Dustin, passing it to Lucas who inspected it thoroughly. You wondered if he knew how to recognize fake cards from real ones or if it was just for the show. Probably the latter.
"Stop that ! Why would I lie and bring a complete stranger here, mh ?"
Eddie slapped the card out of Lucas's hand to give it back to you, annoyance clear on his face.
-
Months had passed since that day, and you grew even closer to Eddie, practically being attached to the hip and earning the nickname of being his man-crush. He liked to explain it by saying it was to catch up all the missed time. There was no such thing as man-crush. Pfft !
You also got to meet his uncle Wayne and became good friends with him despite the age difference. He told you the story behind all the mugs that were hung on the walls, plus those that got accidentally broken when Eddie slammed the door a little too strongly during his teenage years.
You've learned that he also knows how to play guitar although he is not as skilled as his nephew and you got to hear them both play together —though you never imagined it would be country music—.
Eddie made you promise to not tell a soul.
-
This fucking “man-crush” thing kept following him. He hated it. It was awful because it was true.
Yet, very often he would feel relief wash over him when he remembers you're there. Your voice is clear in his head, not fading. This is a nice feeling. He cannot forget you. But he doesn’t talk about the butterflies he feels in his guts when you wrap an arm around his waist or sometimes just by saying his name. Or the ting of jealousy when you hang with his friends rather than with him.
Eddie had a plain old crush on you.
When you parted, at the end of the summer camp, Eddie had not realized his feelings yet, innocently thinking he just didn’t want to lose a friend. It all made sense somehow when you arrived in Hawkins. Oh yeah, he wanna kiss that friend so bad.
Oh to kiss you like it was your first time.
Oh to kiss you like it was nothing.
Oh to kiss you like his life depended on it.
So many types of kisses to think about. So many ways to plague his mind and you found them all. But he was not the only one with a plagued mind.
It was obvious to the connoisseur eye. The one that knows a special kind of yearning. Robin could not be more sure of her friend's feelings. Each time Eddie came back with you, Robin couldn't help but to stare at the two of you with a smile. It was cute at first, seeing the metalhead acting flustered and oh so excited to spend time with that new guy. Rushing to Family Video to try and subtily ask something [Name] would like, things only gays would take interest in. Steve did not read between the lines and just searched for what was asked while Robin instantly knew.
Eddie wanted what 53:05 in 'Fast Times at Ridgemont High' is for her lesbian self and she made her mission to deliver just that plus a not so subtle wink to let him know she knew. Oh, his reaction was priceless. He blinked several times, taking a micro step back as if he just had been insulted, forgetting what he was saying mid sentence. An awkward smile appeared on his face as he feigned confusion.
"Why the wink, Buckley ?"
"What. That's just how I blink. Munson" she says, mimicking his tone.
"Do you want the tape or not ?" Steve asked, already bothered by their discussion.
-
She figured the movies worked.
One day, you came in with Eddie, she almost didn't notice you holding his hand with how fast you went to the back of the store, briefly greeting her and Steve. She could hear the two of you talk quietly, barely above a whisper. She turned around to see what aisle you were in but you had both ducked your head down to hide. Looking at the computer's screen she saw the two of you kissing.
You were crouched, hands holding Eddie's face as you pecked his lips, he was crouched too, hands by the tapes. He let out a small chuckle before kissing you back, his lips lingering on your-
"There's a camera there too !" Robin yelled from her seat, "But congratulations, though !"
Oh it definitely did work.
149 notes · View notes
fbfh · 2 years
Text
Leo x pregnant!reader second trimester hcs
wc: 1k
warnings: pregnancy, feeling the baby move, crying /pos,
a/n: baby fever baby fever baby fever leo would be the best fucking dad can't stop thinking about how cute he'd be when you're pregnant and leo around babies i'm unwell idk what to do with myself
tags: @yesv01 @avashaye @perseajohnson @afidiofobia @thatmultifandomloser @yelenabel0vaswife @almostjollypizza @fictionalcomforts  @lizziebitch33  @jacksondeeznuts @justbookworm @urmum-xoxo @Asunnyhunny @dustyinkpages @cowboylikekelsey @cosmiq-cloud @anything-forourmoony @i-dont-remember-a-lot  @chasingpj @1dpjohoohp @mystic-writings   @babiesimagines @dreamerball @demirunner @lubsana
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You’ve been moved in for a few weeks 
It’s springtime, and there are flowers blooming everywhere
The weather’s getting warmer and the windows are all open, that fresh rainy smell is in the air
You’re definitely showing now, your cute little bump is only hidden under baggy hoodies and sweatshirts
And oh my god Leo can’t keep his hands off your tummy
He’s always rubbing your bump, pressing kisses and talking to your baby
“Hi baby, it’s your daddy!” in a soft voice
He tells your baby about how your days are going, asks them questions, tells them jokes
Tells them how excited you both are to meet them
How he can’t wait to hold them
He caresses your bump, fingers tracing over the new stretch marks with love and adoration
You really are showing now, your cute little bump poking out under your clothes
Holy fuck he can’t get enough of it
Plus, now that you’re moved in you can work together on the project that has you the most excited
Planning the baby’s nursery!!!!!!
And oh my GOD you’re both so excited
You’ve been doing so much research
There is no magazine
No nursery vlog, no pinterest board, no parenting and interior design blogs you haven’t scoured 
You have a full plan to make the perfect nursery with Leo for when your little bundle of joy gets here
You and Leo have also spent countless hours laughing with each other and roasting other nurseries you see online
You send him a picture of a desaturated neutral toned minimalistic boho nursery with the caption “werner herzog’s… sad beige nursery… for sad beige children…” 
He knows where this is going, and he’s giggling before he even sees the picture
You’re totally right, too
It’s a very sad beige nursery
And the opposite of what you’re going for
But you also don’t want it to be too much sensory overload  for your little baby
You’re talking about it one night, going over ideas and designs, looking through changing tables online
It’s one of those moments where it really hits him again
You’re gonna have a baby
You’re going to have a baby!!!!!!!
You can sort of tell when those moments hit just by the way he looks at you
The soft warmth, the happy tears prickling in the corner of his eyes
There’s a certain smile that he only gets when he gets like that, it’s impossible to miss
Sometimes you just watch him think, basking in the fact that you’re really going to be living the life you both thought was laughably out of the question at 15
And now here you are, planning your baby’s nursery 
Another baby prep thing you’ve been devoting a lot of time to is shopping for baby
Your friends and family have already contributed a ton of thoughtful gifts you’re sure baby’s going to love
And you haven’t even had the baby shower yet
But you can’t stop yourselves from picking up a few outfits and toys and books whenever you’re out together 
You’ve spent countless hours in the baby section of various stores, showing each other all the cute onesies and outfits and baby shoes you find
With your bump getting bigger every day you also need to get more maternity clothes
And Leo is so supportive!!!! 
He helps you pick out the cutest stuff
He has a real knack for finding stuff that you’ll feel cute and comfortable in
And jesus christ he’s so ready to hype you up
You look so fucking pretty in all these empire waists and ruched tops 
His eyes get all sparkly and he gets the biggest most sincere smile 
He rubs his hands up and down your waist, along your back, over your bump
“You look so cute!” 
It’s contagious, really
The way he looks at you, how happy he is about everything, how much he loves you
It’s one of these times when you’re out shopping that you feel it
You’re looking at a baby onesie with an adorable little turtle print when you feel the baby move
Your jaw hits the floor and your eyes fly open
You literally drop the onesie you were holding you’re so stunned
You immediately run over to Leo, putting his hand on your tummy
He’s worried something’s wrong for a split second
Then he feels it too
Your little baby, moving around 
You both cry
He’s a cancer and you’re pregnant, you’re both definitely going to cry over this 
It’s just the most touching moment shared between you two 
Hands on your tummy, holding each other and smiling in crying at the baby gap
You end up getting the turtle onesie, considering it to be a good sign
Every time either of you see it you think of the first time you felt your baby move
Another exciting thing you’ll get to do
If you want to
Is find out baby’s gender
No matter how you go about it
If you want to find out right away 
Or keep it a surprise 
If you throw a gender reveal party or get told right away 
No matter how it goes
Or what the gender is
You’re so excited 
That’s the third big time it really hits him
You’re having a baby!!!!!!! 
And he can not wait
He seriously can’t wait 
Neither of you can wait to hold your little sundrop, your bundle of joy, your little miracle
And you’re getting closer and closer to doing just that
After a few painfully short yet agonizingly long more months
You’ll get to
And it’s feeling more real every day
226 notes · View notes
Note
i'm a queer believer. i also haven't been to church in over 10 years. i can't pray or read my bible. i WANT to, but every church growing up was so painful and spiritually abusive, and the grassroots "queer" one i tried to join as an adult with people i thought i could trust turned out to be "it's exactly the same spiritual abuse you grew up with but me, the pastor, is gay this time, and all the other identities are still sinful and bad."
not to mention i'm a high-support-needs autistic, and very few churches i've tried accept that's not God's Judgement, let alone accommodate it.
i just. i believe in God. i believe that those churches that hurt me were not speaking for Them. but that doesn't change the fact that i'm so, so afraid of Them. prayer is a trigger for me. how can i move on? How do i even begin to talk to Them when all mention of Them has always been rotted with hatred and pain? will They wait for me? or am i just damning myself?
cw church hurt, spiritual abuse, fear of hell
Oh anon, my heart aches for you and the abuse that human beings claiming to speak for God have put you through.
I promise you, you are so deeply loved by the God who made you just as you are; who knows the hurt you've faced and would never be angry at you for the things other people have done to you. You are not the one who has done anything wrong!
God has compassion for you, a word that means a love that shares in suffering as much as in joy. They understand that right now, prayer and scripture and church bring you more harm than help; They would never blame you for avoiding the things that bring harm to your soul.
____
Take all the time you need, and don’t rush into anything that brings more harm than help.
If prayer is a trigger for you right now, you can trust that God will find other ways to connect to you. 
Simply taking time to appreciate life — to cultivate gratitude for the beauty of nature, for the way your body moves, for laughter or tears shared with a friend — is a way to connect to the Divine without need for words. .
Seeking to ease the suffering of the world is another way to encounter God without the need for formal prayer — in helping others and acting for justice, you become one with Jesus; you embody God in the world. .
Allowing yourself to be helped is another way to embody God in the world, for in Jesus, God depended for a time on a human womb, human parents and teachers, human friends. The vulnerability and courage it takes to live into interdependence, to say “yes” to another’s care for you, draws you closer to the God who made you for community. .
If you are one for music or other creative endeavors, I’ve always treasured the saying, “The one who sings prays twice.” The Holy Spirit imbues each of us with unique gifts; whatever yours are, simply using those gifts is a way of honoring and connecting to the Being who made and delights in you.
Meanwhile, there are ways to connect to community beyond church, and places to learn about faith besides the Bible. 
If you have even one person with whom you feel comfortable and enriched by discussing faith stuff, that’s wonderful! 
There are also online communities specifically for LGBTQA+ Christians, such as the Transmission Ministry Collective, which offers community on text-based chat services, video-based support groups, and more. 
And places like the Our Bible App offer devotionals that are LGBTQA+ affirming, and otherwise make room for marginalized folks whom faith communities too often harm or leave out. 
______
For more advice and encouragement, I invite you to wander through a couple tags I have that relate to these topics: #church hurt and my #healing tag.
I also have an #autistic stuff tag and an #autistic theology tag, as well as a broader #disability theology tag, that you might find helpful. You have unique gifts that the Body of Christ desperately needs; you are worthy of accommodations. Shame on any church that fails to recognize that — it’s their loss, truly.
_____
I will be holding you in my prayers, anon. It’s okay that you can’t pray for yourself right now, or even ever — God created us for community so that we can hold one another! In fact, the Holy Spirit is praying for you as well:
We don’t know what we should pray, but the Spirit themself pleads our case with unexpressed groans (Romans 8:26)
You are not alone; you are okay; you are loved.
God will wait for you — and more than just waiting — They are with you wherever and however you are! God isn’t only in church; God doesn’t only stick by those who pray formally. They will stay with you in your pain however long that takes, facing it with you and guiding you into fuller life. <3
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msookyspooky · 1 year
Note
I am so glad you liked my blurb!! I love the stu-Billy-yn dynamic and Since we're all waiting for ray to find out....
:D
Here is a soft blurb before the ANGST enjoy 💗
.
.
.
.
"Holy shit," you say. "You can't do it. Can you?"
Billy, who has you by your shirt says, "the fuck you mean?"
You push him away. "I mean, just like last time. You can't do it. You can't kill me."
"I have your gun, dumb shit! I said I was waiting for the perfect time!"
"Billy, man, not right-"
In sync, you and Billy shout "Shut up!" At Stu. He puts his hands up as he backs away, looking like a parent trying to stop their children from fighting like two year olds.
"What do you mean, I can kill you. I could kill you. I WILL kill you. It will be just on my terms."
You scuff. "Then do it." You motion toward his gun - or rather YOUR gun - "it's loaded. So do it."
Silence.
"What are you waiting for?"
"I told you! I will kill you!"
In a scarily calm voice, you say, "then do it."
Silence.
"See. You can't. If you wanted to kill me, you would have. Back at the party, at college backstage, the dozen times you or Stu had broke into my house, the last time you couldn't do it...and when you were in my room the other night."
Billy fought hard to keep a poker face. He knew you were asleep but...
"Yeah. I knew about it. If you really wanted me, I mean really wanted, me dead, you or Stu would have done it a long time ago."
Billy is about to start shouting again when your front door opens.
"Hey, you okay? I heard shouting."
It was Randy.
All three of you looked at each other. You were currently in the living-room and had no time to hide them.
I guess he was right. The pass would eventually bite you in the ass.
Randy comes in from the front hall and sees all three of you. Stu still trying to talk Billy down, you looking at Randy with a horrified look on your face, and Billy now still with his fist around the fabric of your shirt.
"Randy-I-" you start, "I can explain-"
While Randy might not have been the smartest in his class, he wasn't a complete idiot. He knew Billy and Stu's faces anywhere. And made even worse was that Stu no longer had piercings which made him look even more reconcilable to the all familiar Randy.
A chilling pause flows through the air as he processes on what he had walked into before he leaves, not saying anything.
You push away Billy again before chasing after Randy.
"Ray! Look-I- I know what it looks like and I can-"
He cuts you off. "Explain? Yeah, I sure as shit hope so."
You nod before taking in a deep breath. "The fire that burned down Stu's house? Billy and Stu survived it. Stu sent me a note before I had moved out for college but I thought it was a sick prank. I started seeing "Tim" and "James" at college and I thought I was going crazy...until they ambushed me backstage durning rehearsals for the play I was in."
All Randy could muster up is, "holy shit."
"Yeah....then after Mickey Me and Stu patched stuff up and we continued to talk...me and Billy? Not that much. And I pretty much knew they were alive."
"Wait- you knew they were alive?!"
You nod, not daring to make eye contact. "I wanted to tell you, I would have to put it on hold. I was almost sure they would have got caught back in L.A. especially Stu!"
Ray sighs before running his hands through his hair.
"Ray-I-"
"Don't. Don't even call me that. Not anymore."
"I-"
"Does Dewey know you are working with the men that killed Sid? That killed Tatum, his baby sister? Maureen? Casey? Steve? James?"
You don't respond, instead just nodding.
"Jesus christ."
"I know I fucked up-"
"Yeah, no shit."
"Look, I wanted to tell you and I-"
"And what? Huh? Would have told me? Its been almost sixteen years! When were you going to tell me!?"
"Please, Ray-" you stop yourself. "Randy, please. You have to believe me. I did wanted to tell you!"
He scuffs "right. When?"
No answer.
He coldly laughs. "Right. From here on out, don't text me. Don't call me. And don't talk to me."
"Randy-" your voice cracks.
"And I don't want you near my kids. Ever again."
He shoves past you as he leaves you stunned into silence on your own front porch.
I WAS SCREAMING AT YN TO ACT STUPID I WOULD HAVE STARTED YELLING IN MOCK SHOCK LIKE "OMG RAY! THEY'RE ALIVE!" 😱
But srsly I wonder how Billy and Stu feel I'm sure giddy that Ray's out of the picture but also seeing YN devastated is bitter sweet especially for Stu
Excellent writing babe thank you sm!!! 😭💘
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obscurewritings · 10 months
Text
#5
I think my mom has the anger issues I got. Literally got mad at me because I asked her 2 questions about the dishes because I didn't know where to put them and then made me sit down. Such a fucking mind drainer, trying to worry about what's going to set her off and when's the right time to be affectionate. I'm gonna have to start walking on eggshells now, and honestly, I like the pain of it. Expecting the unexpected, y'know? Maybe she'll be ok when we move, but I don't know. And honestly, I can't trust her right now. I don't trust her at all right now. Why am I trusting "my biggest bully" and one who seems like they wanna snap? I play the game, or the game plays me. It's best not to ask her questions, such a waste of time. Maybe the storm will clear one day, but for now, my guard is best kept at an all-time high. Especially after that scare we had on my brother's birthday.
I can still hear their cries in the back of my mind, all four of them sobbing and me sitting there, almost succumbing to my own emotions. That will never leave my head no matter how many times I try and forget it. It plays like a broken record, get it to stop. Sobs upon sobs repeating, hearing the sniffling, how much they'll miss us and whatnot, Jesus fucking Christ. No one realizes how much it hurts hearing that. No one can understand how much it means to be an older sibling in a put-together family.
All everyone does is fight and all I can do is zone out and wait for it to be over. I'm just done with everything. Everybody gives everyone shit, it's annoying.
I don't even want to talk to my best friend right now. I'm a fuckin' drag and I know he prefers to keep things light-hearted so there's no point going there. Other friends? No go. Cousins? Have their own lives. Parents? Can't trust them right now. There is no one to bring this up to. Fuck everyone.
I started messing around with my name because it feels like my life just seems like a blur. I called myself 'Nycto', which is short for 'Nyctophilia' or 'Nyctophobia', which can be interpreted from either side. 'Nycto' is defined as 'Night, Nocturnal', adding the suffixes of 'phobia' and 'philia' gives it a more complex meaning. Nyctophobia is the fear of the dark, while nyctophilia is the love of the dark. People love me or fear me, but either way, I just really like the name. It's unique and whatnot, while the name I currently prefer using gets me compared to a character I don't even like that much. Relatable in the aroace part of him, nothing else. I hate smiling, I hate my smile actually.
-Dxll Face
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1-800-imagines · 3 years
Text
Summer Love |h.s|
no control part 1
tw: aggressive, douche bf (not harry)
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Rowan was more excited for her second year of college at Dartmouth. She had a boyfriend and she was going to be a teaching assistant for English 1301. She had taken the course the year before and loved the professor. Dr. Montgomery had been impressed with Rowan that she had offered her a job for the next year and now Rowan basically was in charge of the class. She lectured, gave tests and quizzes, and graded papers. Dr. Montgomery was just there as a supervisor if Rowan had questions.
She was also excited for her classes because she was now able to take her major related courses. She adored English with her whole heart and now her schedule was full of English classes instead of just the basics. She had her classes that she was taking on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday's. And she taught two English 1301 classes on Tuesday and Thursday back to back.
Rowan was anxious about teaching. She was only 19. Her students would be the same age as her and might be in her other classes. It was the day before classes started and Rowan had moved into her apartment that day. It was a late start but her parents had wanted her home for as much as possible since she didn't come home much during the school year. Boston was only 2 hours away but Rowan didn't have a car.
Carter had helped Rowan move all her stuff in. Her parents had kissed her goodbye and left leaving the couple alone. Rowan flopped on her bed and laid back. She was exhausted from moving all the shit. She wanted a nap, but Carter was on her. "Not now, Cart," She mumbled with her eyes still closed.
"Come on, Ro. I helped you move all your heavy shit in and now you're gonna hold out on me," Carter said, his voice laced with guilt. Rowan sighed, but didn't move.
"No, I'm tired." She opened her eyes to look at him, "I'm sorry. Can't we nap and maybe after?" She asked him.
"God, you're such a bitch, Rowan." He snapped. His sweet attitude from earlier with his parents disappearing. He stood up from her bed and left with a huff, slamming the door. "Don't fucking text me." He yelled and the apartment door slammed again.
Rowan sighed again and shut her eyes. She honestly didn't care enough right now to deal with Carter and his antics. She was too tired. Their summer had been fun, but their relationship relied on sex and whenever Rowan didn't want to, he would get extremely mad and throw a fit. Rowan drifted into sleep without setting an alarm. It was only about 4:30.
——
When Rowan woke up, it was midnight. "Shit," She swore under her breath. She still had a LOT of stuff to do to prepare for classes and meeting with Dr. Montgomery tomorrow. On top of that, she probably wouldn't be able to sleep through the night. She sat up and looked around for her phone. When she turned it on she saw she had about 25 texts from Carter ranging from him being extremely angry to also saying he loved her and he was sorry. Rowan didn't want to deal with it. She plugged her phone into the charger and got up to finish dealing with her shit.
She was done prepping at 3am. And she had her first class at 9. She didn't have a car so she still had to walk to campus but she didn't live far. She was going to leave at 8 so she could pick up breakfast from the coffee stand. So in reality she needed to get up at 6:30 to shower. Rowan groaned thinking about everything and fell back in her bed. She set multiple alarms and fell back asleep.
At 6:30 sharp the alarm clock blared and she sprang out of bed, not wanting to be late. Her anxiety was always the worst on the first day. She actually had diagnosed anxiety and depression. She jumped into the shower to jolt herself awake. Mornings were always the hardest for Ro. She never wanted to get herself out of bed.
She let herself stay in the shower for 30 minutes and then get out and fully get ready. She dried her hair and put on some makeup. Her hair was generally pretty straight and currently was platinum blonde. She was a natural blonde but she liked it platinum best. She pulled on some ripped skinny jeans and a button up. It was 7:45 so she was good on time. She grabbed her vans and backpack and walked out the door, finally answering Carter. She simply just texted him, 'It's fine. See you after classes. R'
Before she shut the door, she yelled at her roommate, "Bye Ari!" Her best friend and roommate didn't have class till later but Rowan liked yelling at her start waking her up. Ari was even less of a morning person than Rowan.
Rowan made the trek to campus and to the coffee stand. She was in line, only kind of paying attention when it was her turn. "Hi, can I get a large double shot of espresso with cream and sugar? And then a bagel with butter?" The cashier nodded and she paid for her breakfast with her cash and change that was left from summer. She had a little bit of money from summer babysitting and knew she had to be careful about spending until the paychecks started rolling in.
Rowan turned on her foot to go wait for her order when she bumped into a very tall man, "Oh shit, I'm sorry." She said, dropping all her money on the floor, "Fuck." She had a major problem with swearing.
The man chuckled and bent down to help her pick up the money, "Don't worry about it, love." He had a thick british accent. He handed her the money and her heart skipped a beat. She realized she was staring and got a hold of herself.
"Thank you! Sorry again." She smiled and went over to wait for her coffee, slightly mortified. Rowan took out her phone to look down and texted Ari. 'I'm the biggest dumbass. I ran into this gorgeous man and dropped my fucking CHANGE at his feet and he picked it up for me and now I'm standing here looking like a fucking DORK'
She knew Ari wouldn't be awake yet, but it was a relief to tell someone even if they wouldn't read it till later.
The mysterious man walked over to wait next to Rowan and Rowan's heart was beating incredibly fast. How did someone have this effect on her? Carter sure didn't. "Rowan!" It snapped her out of her trance. She grabbed her order and awkwardly smiled at the man.
"Have a good day," The man said and Rowan nearly tripped.
"You too!" She said and ran off to try to avoid further embarrassing herself. "Jesus christ, get yourself together Rowan." She swore at herself and went to sit outside her class to eat.
Her first 4 classes went by quickly. She had biology, fiction & poetry, creative writing, and history all back to back. Then she had a break which overlapped with Ari. The two talked about Rowan's embarrassment of the day and Rowan saluted her and went to the class she was most excited about: Shakespeare's Greatest Works. It was taught by a new Professor.
She walked into class before it started and sat in the second row. She took out her notebook for that class and waited for class to start. On the dot of the hour, the door opened and Rowan gasped.
"Oh fuck me." She said a little bit too loudly. It caught the professor's attention and he smirked at her, giving her a little grin. It was the man from earlier.
"Alright class, I'm Professor Styles. Nice to meet you all." Rowan's heart nearly fell out of her chest.
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Text
❛ FAMILY ❜
Headcanon.
with Neron ‘Creeper’ Vargas.
Request: Oooh yes yes yeah 😁 I show u take request 🙈 I would read something with Creeper dates a girl who already have 4/5 sons of a precedent relation. Maybe about how he create relationshion with their ? Like one love bike, another by playing football ? An the older is septic but one day he understand have Creeper for stepfather is having all Mayans for family. Sorry if it's sound to specific.
BY ANON
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Warnings: none.
Word count: about 1.3k
Aurora says: this writing hasn't been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I'm sorry about that!
Gif credits: to the author, I found it on Google.
Masterlist.
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Creeper couldn't believe you were alone in charge of three kids, when you moved onto his neighborhood. And he knew you didn't have a husband around because he had never seen him.
The problem was when he realized he was in love with you, with your scent, with the sweet tone of your voice and with that smile which could stop a war.
“Wait, wait! Lemme help you, mama!”
You hear a voice behind you, making you turn around from the trunk of your car full of bags. A man covered with tattoos and a helmet hanging from his forearm, is walking towards you.
“Oh, no, no. Don't worry. It's okay”. You mutter somewhat ashamed with a fleeting smirk on your lips.
“Nah, ain't nothing better to do”. He just shrugs his shoulders, grabbing three bags in every hand and greatly surprising you of his strength.
“Than—Thank you…” You just say, taking the three left, before closing your car.
Walking in silence straight to the porch, you open the door with some difficulties making you both laugh until it finally opens. Following you to the kitchen, he leaves the groceries over the counter, having one quick look but without wanting to look like a creepy stalker.
“I'm (Y/N), by the way”. You say then, raising a hand at him hoping it's enough for a formal greeting.
“Neron”. The man answers, narrowing it softly, a little bewitched by your touch.
“Can I… maybe offer you a coffee or something…?”
Whenever you two were free of responsibilities, you used to sit on your porch to share some drinks and talk about work, or about your lives in general. And only when he knew that it could be something serious, he just talked to you about what he really does, one bit at time.
After some months, more or less, hanging out, you two decided to introduce him to your girls. Two twins of six years old and a pre-teen of fourteen. You were aware that he wouldn't have any problem with Lia and Marta. But Carlota was another history.
Since Creeper has sat at the table, after helping you to settle the table, you can see the younger whispering and chuckling with that kind of gesture that they use when they want to ask something, but they're too ashamed. Narrowing your eyes, as the man does, you look at them.
“C'mon, girls, spit it out”. You say with a funny smile on your lips.
“Can we color your drawings one day?” Marta and Lia ask in unison, pointing at his bare arms.
You can't help but laugh rubbing your faces.
“Sounds like a cool plan”. Creeper nods pretty convinced.
“Fuck this shit”. From her silence, Carlota drags backwards her chair, getting up to step out of the living room.
“Hey, mama”. Neron says grabbing your left wrist, when you're about to follow her. “It's okay. Give her time”.
“I can't let her behave like that”. You grunt sitting down.
“She is fourteen, baby. We both know what her father did. And probably she thinks I want to replace him, but it's not. She will see it, okay?”
The months kept passing by, taking the next step when you decided to live together. At this point he has already introduced you to his brothers, being more kindly than you thought. At least, they didn't thought that Neron was fucking out of his mind, for getting related with a woman with three kids.
Lia and Marta were delighted having him at home, playing with them whenever he had five minutes, or cooking pancakes on Sundays. And of course, letting your girls color all his tattoos.
Carlota, by the other hand, started to be hard-nose. Always locking herself in her dorm when she was at home. And it was breaking your heart, trying to talk with her about what was bothering her, even if you already knew. But the worst part was when the principal of his highschool called you to tell you about a fight that involucred your daughter with another three girls.
“Hey, mama, I got this, okay?”
What you didn't know is that Neron was already conscious about what was happening. So he was to take care of that business.
Your daughter was sitting on a bench in the peak time of finishing classes, crying unconsolable with her hands covering her burning face. She wasn't expecting the loud buzz coming closer, raising her blurry gaze to the road. Nine motorbikes made their appearance, getting parked backwards next to the sidewalks. The whole student body with their parents and some teachers turned at them, mostly whispering about how good those nine men looked. Taking off their helmets, Neron's brothers waited for him, having some cigs, while he started to walk towards your surprised daughter.
As soon as he was able to kneel close to her, he knew by just one look who were the other girls. He didn't say anything, standing up to lead his steps to the three families with their eyes fixed on the man.
“I know that your daughters are teasing my kid about me, about my club and about what we do. So, lemme tell you something, as parents you are, the only thing you want is the happiness of them. Keep it in mind. Because next time my kid comes back home crying, I will not be this… polite”.
The girls were trembling, hiding behind their parents who were terrified too because of his words. Showing them a fake smile, Neron turned around to your daughter to make her a sign.
“I want you to say ‘sorry’ to her, and promise that you will never gonna fuck her up again”.
“Sir, yo—”.
“Shut the fuck up, man. I'm talking to your ill-bred kids”.
“We… We're so—sorry, Carlota”.
Your daughter looked at him, clinging to his arm, pouting a little and pulling him back.
“Good. Never forget to be kind”.
That night, Carlota didn't stop talking about how scared everyone was because of Creeper, totally freaking out too about when he appeared with his brothers in such cool motorbikes.
It was almost two am when your boyfriend came from the clubhouse, a little tired and needed for a cold beer. Taking off his boots at the entrance, to not be noisy, he walks straight to the kitchen to grab one from the fridge. Opening it with not much difficulty, he has a sip turning to the island in the middle of the kitchen.
“Jesus fucking christ, Carlota…” He whispers with his heart racing. “What you doin'ere?”
“I couldn't sleep”. She just says, having another spoon of ice cream.
“At least, turn on the lights… You're gonna gimme a heart attack, kid”.
She laughs low, shaking her head, before getting up from the stool. Walking towards him without saying a single word, your daughter hugs Creeper wrapping his waist with both arms.
“Thank you for today”. She mutters resting her cheek on his chest.
Your boyfriend doubts for a second, not knowing if it's real or an illusion, but it feels so good that he could help her somehow. Hugging her back, the man kisses her head, smiling like a fool. Being happy to see that she's finally accepting him in her family.
“Listen, Carlota…” He says then, pulling himself away to leave the beer over the counter. “I don't wanna replace anyone, okay? We don't have to play this dad and daughter game. I wanna be your friend, I want you to trust me and talk to me about your problems, if you have some, okay?”
“Okay”. She just says. “I'm sorry if I hurt you ever”.
“Nah, it's okay, kid. I just want you to be happy”.
“I am, Creep'”.
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Text
I’m A Creep
Fandom: The Messenger Jack x Rin Davies
Word Count: 5k
Warnings: suicide discussion, oral sex, penetration, mention of masturbation, angsty whomp because OOOOF is Jack a Whomp!character
Note: The events of this fic contain spoilers for those of you who havent seen The Messenger.  It takes place after the end of the movie.  Read at your own risk if you haven’t seen it!  If you want it’s free on Tubi :)
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Present Day:
Jack stood beside Rin in the dead of night watching her sleep for just a moment. Only a moment because she roused the instant she sensed him breathe. Sitting up, she quickly reached inside the nightstand. He knew her routine, Rin was impulsive about making sure her leather motorcycle gloves were on before she let him in.
Jack wordlessly pulled his shirt over his head and stepped out of his sweatpants and boxers. 
Rin lifted her covers and opened her legs to him. Obliging, Jack lowered himself onto her showering her neck with kisses. His tongue and lips trailing down along her collarbone, erection hard against her thigh. A hand found its way under Rin’s t-shirt and over a naked breast where he pinched at a nipple. 
“Jack,” she was breathless. “Stop. Don't touch my skin, please.”
Jack pushed himself up by the arms, “How is this enjoyable to you, duck?” A northern term of endearment. “My thighs ah touchin’ you aren't they?” The moonlight caught his eyes as he teased her with the head of his cock. “What about this, inside you?” Suggestively whispered. 
Rin moaned but held her cool. “It’s not the same. Like you said, that's inside. It's just my.. skin. From my..” her voice trailed off. 
“Would it be so bad? I just want to feel you under me without fuckkin clothes.” Jack took a chance and kissed her. Tongue pushing inside of Rin, but she stiffened. “Sweetheart,” now he whispered, just his fingertips brushed her cheek. “Please, love, just touch me”
--------
Several Weeks Before:
Rin sat alone at a center table in the middle of the visitation room.  This wasn’t her first rodeo, probably won’t be her last.  She flexed her hands outwards the leather of her gloves cracking and flexing in a satisfying manner.  No one was going to come and see her. Besides, the solitude allowed her to quietly spy on all the other nutters around the room.
Just to her left Rin noticed a pretty redheaded woman and her son as they sat across from probably the most attractive guy ever in an institution.  There was a tenseness to the way he sat, shoulders hunched and hands between his legs.  His hair unruly and a blank stare that wasn’t really focusing on- she came to realize-  his sister and nephew.  Rin knew him from group therapy where he was equally quiet, eyes glassy from a psych med cocktail.  The majority of his speaking hours tucked away in that overbearing therapist’s office.  
“Jack, will you please just look at me?” his sister, Emma tried her best to reach out to her brother. “I.. I think Martin and I made a mistake.” 
Jack only stared straight ahead between Emma and his nephew, Billy. The preteen looked uncomfortable and scared as his mother nudged him softly. “It's ok. Billy tell Uncle Jack.” 
“I did, Mom” , his voice quiet. “I'm supposed to say no. That you should get me help before it's too late.”  Rin watched as Billy folded his arms and laid his head down. “Only I can't. It's all night and day, Jack. I can't sleep because they don't have you.” 
“Best leave him here with me then, Emma.” It was the first time anyone heard Jack speak in weeks. His sister had a posh accent, so Rin was surprised when Yorkshire dripped from his lips. “For good, right?” 
“That's not fair. You are sick, Jack.  You weren't caring for yourself. You.. you got too involved with that murder. You were hurting yourself,” Emma struggled with tears. “I want to take you home.”
“Oh like I'm some kind of fookin dog? Emma you and Martin made it clear I belong here. She's right, maybe it was all dad. That's traumatic you know.” 
“You deserve someplace warm! A home. Please, Jack. I found this in your things.” She slid a newspaper clipping towards her brother. “That's the boy who drowned. Why.. why didn't you tell me?” 
“Loads of kids drown in pools,” Jack stated bluntly with a shrug. “Why should your pool be any different?” 
“I never said it was our pool.” 
“I recognized the address in the article”
“Jack, it's from two years ago.” 
“I got lucky. Ah we doon here? I have walls to stare at. Here Billy you can have this back,” from between his knees he produced a glass paperweight with a scorpion inside. “Tell all ya mates Crazy Uncle Jack sends his loov” 
Jack tried to stand but Emma grabbed his arm. This was Rin’s cue to swoop in. She swiftly moved from her table to theirs. 
“JACKIE!’ I've been looking for you everywhere!” His eyes panicking in her direction. “I'm Wren,” she took her glove off and reached a scarred hand in Emma's direction. “But my brother couldn't say it so you can call me Rin” She smiled brightly. 
Emma tentatively shook Rin’s hand, smiling in turn.  Rin took a moment as her mind’s eye zoned in on what was inside of Jack’s sister.  It was a loneliness, a desperation to take care of her little brother but protect her son from the same fate.  But most importantly Rin felt a small tingling of warmth from somewhere deep inside of Emma’s heart.  It was white and pure and instantly recognizable as hope.  Even though it was tiny it was growing and starting to spread, and Rin knew Emma was eager to share that with her brother.
“Wow,” Rin blurted, “I wish my brother was as invested in me as you are.  You’re a good person, Emma.  Trust me,” she winked.  “Woman’s intuition.”
Emma narrowed her eyes and studied the crazed looking woman standing between her and Jack.  The scars on Rin’s hand raised some alarms, but Emma ignored them.  She omitted a relief and let go, “Well thank you.  Can you talk some sense into my brother?”
Moments later, with the visitors gone, Rin sat down in Emma’s place.  “Thank you is a start,” she teased Jack. 
He rolled his eyes and slowly turned in her direction to face her dead on.  The intensity of his eyes took Rin by surprise.  “Thank you,” the sarcasm poured like a waterfall.
Rin took off her other glove.  “Now, Mr-”
“Jack is fine.”
“Jack.  Tell me,” Rin feigned a German accent, “Und why do zey sink you are crazy.”   
He blinked slowly.
“You got sectioned.  What bullshit excuse did they force you to believe?  Because it seems like Lovely Emma is desperate to get you out, and we know how hard that is.”
Jack took an impossibly deep breath, “Schizo-effective disorder with some dissociation, post traumatic stress disorder, non-suicidal self injury disorder and depression.”
“Fuck me, that's a trail mix of bonkers. Now ask me” 
Jack closed his eyes. They were shut for so long that Rin was certain he had fallen asleep having given in to his meds. His hunched, thin body sort of folded a bit in on itself. A moment of possible self-soothing when he started to sway. 
“Jack?” Rin's tone fell quietly with concern. She poke his arm carefully avoiding touching the skin. “Darling what cocktail did these quacks put you on.” She was an expert after all these years; if the drugs were working, no way would he be this much of a zombie.
Green blank eyes hidden behind enviable eyelashes attempted to focus “Seroquel. Clozapine?” His words start to slur a bit. “Fine. How fucking barmy are you?”
“Well,”  the young woman softened, “I have suicidal ideations with self-injury tendencies myself, severe clinical depression, a bit of the old borderline personality disorder and wait for it..”  she practically whispered a few inches from Jack’s face, “total emotional attachment to partners.”  
The skin around Jack’s eyes crinkled as he squinted just enough to indicate his hazed brain was trying to process everything Rin just unloaded. His lips parted to speak but he paused resulting in a gobsmacked expression.  “You’re barking.”
“Says the sexy scarecrow with journo clippings of dead boys.”  Rin pursed her lips and crossed her arms, “Why are you really in here Jack.”
“I’m fucking mad.” It was matter of fact.
“To quote the Cheshire Cat, we’re all mad here, love.  Look at me,” she held her hands aloft to display gnarled and prominent scars covering both hands in their entirety.  “I developed a gift or two by primary school.  See I can touch a person, and I know what they are feeling.  Except it.. It goes deeper than that.  I can PICTURE their true selves.  It’s a bit overstimulating, but no one can lie to me.  Not really.  Doesn’t do much for my sex life.  Or lack of one really.  Honestly, you put a cock in your mouth only to find out the guy you’re with is fantasizing about slitting your throat and wanking in your blood.”
Jack shook his head, “Jesus christ.”
“Well yes! My parents were religious zealots, right?  They got wind of my gifts.  Tried to use me in the church, but I rebelled.  Long story short, darling Mumsy and Papa decided if they may be stuck my hands in boiling grease I wouldn’t be able to use it anymore.  It’s not in my hands though.  It’s in my skin,” Rin smiled almost pleasantly. “Sometimes I get a bit over the edge.  I stop shielding myself from the pure air around folks, I suffocate in it.  Then,” now she held out her wrists, “I have my little accidents.”
Jack’s mouth hung agape.  His brows furrowed in confusion, “You are off you’re fucking nut.”
“That’s all relative.  Now, you can tell me why they REALLY sectioned you.  What power or ability are they masquerading as mental illness, or I can find out my way.”  Rin shrugged. 
“Why the fuck do you care?  I’m sleeping at night.  I have food and a bed and a shower.”
“Und electro-shock zerapy, und coma inducing psychopharmaceuticals, und most importantly you has lost your voice und a chance to harness your ability correctly.”  that mock German accent again.  “You shouldn’t be here, Jack.  Emma certainly doesn’t think so, and neither do I.  You’re special.  Or that bitch shrink wouldn’t have made you the living dead.”
Jack snorted followed by a rather loud.  “Just fuck off. Fuck off.  Fuck off.  FUCK OFF!” he screamed in Rin’s face.  Not once did she flinch, arms crossed again in a challenge. Disgusted by her, Jack kept bellowing his words thick with anger and cotton from the meds, “I DON'T BELONG OUT THERE EITHER!  I DON'T BELONG IN HERE!  I DON’T FUCKING BELONG ANYWHERE. HE’S DEAD.  SHE’S DEAD.  EVERY SINGLE FUCKING ONE OF THE CUNTS IS DEAD!  DEAD DEAD DYING!  JUST LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE!” 
He shot up out of the chair to leave, but Rin caught his large hand.  Skin to skin, hands so small together they barely covered just his one.  Instantly her body stiffened as she gasped for air.  Tears immediately stung her eyes as she crammed them shut.  There in her mind was just a large body of water.  Ocean waves crashed overhead as she sank far below the surface.  Dark, cold, horrifying that sensation of being drowned.  Rin choked on the last bit of oxygen in her lungs and started to suffocate.  The hand she held brought her mind’s eye around to opening under the water to see Jack floating near-motionless in front of her.  It took all of her strength to push against the tide towards him where she held his face in her hands.  Death and decay flashed above them, the dead peering down from boats just waiting for Jack to return to the surface.
Rin strained to convey that tiny bit of hope Emma had passed along to her earlier as she pressed her forehead into Jack’s in the icy deep.  There was no reason in particular that she was drawn to him.  Not in the hospital or here trying to save him from drowning slowly. Was he attractive, undoubtedly, but that wasn’t all or it. Maybe it was now that she knew he was a messenger, a harbinger of death.  That was itself a form of an empathic gift.  Or it was just compassion. 
Suddenly Jack’s eyes burst open.  In that languid way your body moves underwater, he pushed her away.  His arms and legs thrashed around in a panic as if he only just realized he was allowing this place to kill him.  There was an instant loss, and Rin’s inner self slammed into a brick wall.  The physical Jack had severed the connection between her body and his.  To resurface that suddenly forced Rin gulping in blessed oxygen that she never really lost.  It was an illusion, where the two of them had been.  He really had shoved her back though, she realized that now.  Storming out of the visitation center, Jack left Rin alone to cry.
--------
Several days later
Rin lounged against the wall outside of Jack’s room with her gloves firmly in place.  Patients weren’t SUPPOSED to fraternize outside of the common rooms, but Rin had been here a few times before.  She knew which orderlies and nurses to finess, and which to avoid.  In this case Jerry was the giant, affable St Bernard of a man that kept watch in this particular hallway.
“Wren back so soon?” he teased. “What are you doing hanging around the human handbook for the recently deceased?” 
“Delightful, Jer.  How is he?  I mean really.” Rin hooked her thumb in the direction of the room.
“Easiest patient I’ve dealt with on account of he rarely speaks, pops his meds and keeps to himself.  Gave us a bit of a row when he first got here, but I like the guy.  I don’t know what to believe though.  His sister’s been sniffing around administratives.”  The orderly shrugged his massive shoulders.  “Heard you took quite the piss on visitation day.”
“I didn’t take the piss!” 
“Did ya do your handsy thing,” Jerry made jazz hands.
Rin’s eyes almost rolled back in her head, but suddenly there was a figure in the doorway which caused her to jump.  “How about we don’t talk about the nutter like he isn’t 10 feet away and only 27 years old?” Jack insisted.  His arms crossed and shoulders sagged in their usual way.  
“Can we talk?”  
Before Jack could truly answer, Rin had already pushed past him and sat down on his bed.  His mouth hung somewhat agape before he eventually joined her.  Jack attempted to sit close, just for some human contact, but the young woman beside him shied away.
“Right,” a retort.  “You’ve started being just as bloody fucking annoying as they were.”
Startled, “Who?”
“You know those.. Schizo delusions I’m here for.”
“The dead?”
Jack’s green eyes narrowed and Rin knew there was a sarcastic remark just sitting there waiting to be released.  Instead he curled his posture as if he was trying to fold in on himself.  Make himself smaller, less noticeable.  “Dissociations sparked by my father’s suicide.”
“Psycho babble bullshit jargon.  Congratulations, you’ve become a parrot.”  Rin waved her hand, “Jack has anyone ever-.”  There was a hesitation.  
“Has anyone ever what? Go on, enlighten me then”
Rin started stripping her gloves off but thought better of it.  A sense of foreboding, of drowning and clutching her chest for hair flashed across her mind.  The loneliness emanated from Jack without her touch. That empathic conduction of her skin.  Reaching instead to place the soft leather against his cheek, her thumb brushed his bottom lip.  Her eyes searched for him in that moment where time stood still before a mouth replaced a thumb.  
To not only Rin’s surprise but his own, Jack didn’t recoil.  His body relaxed as instinct took hold. There was a fervor in hands that got tangled up in hair.  Tongues fought each other as arms made their way around bodies in an embrace.  They held one another tight, the desperation apparent.  
The spell broke when Jack laid Rin down on the bed and let his warm mouth trail down her neck. He was awkward and hungry like a teenager.  He fumbled around her chest to attempt massaging her breast. 
A snort came from Rin simply to hide the panic of rushing water when Jack’s lips came into contact with her skin.  Maybe hers found it easier to beg off that inner eye from opening, but now she didn’t have a choice.  They weren’t as deep with the surface just rippling only a few inches away.  
Before she started to lose oxygen again, Rin began to squirm.  “ Stop.  Please?”
Jack sat up and faced forward as if nothing had transpired.  His cheeks flushed and a hand tugged at his tee-shirt embarrassingly then stuffed between his legs. He blinked a few times as he breathing calmed. 
“I only came to ask you if anyone had ever shown you affection.  Held you.  Emma.. Emma”  Rin inhaled deeply as she forced Jack to hold her glove hand.  “I know she sort of longs to hug you.”  Back on his cheek to make him look at her. “Obviously I got my answer,” she laughed. 
Jack silently replied by pushing his forehead into Rin's.  They laid down again this time with their heads on his pillow legs and arms tangled up in each other. Jack nuzzled the edge of his nose into the skin behind her ear; her breath caught. Then the couple seemingly melted together.
“Jack you seem less-” fingers twisted up in his curls.
“Like a walking coma patient?” hand gripped the thick of her thigh.  Then reaching a shelf above Rin Jack seized one of those creepy glass paperweights housing a floating tarantula. Turning it over underneath to show a tiny white envelope. “I started hiding my meds. Pass them along to my sister when she visits.”
Just under the surface of the water, still struggling for air exploded before Rin's eyes. Perhaps she had passed something between Emma and Jack. Was it her own faith that was transmitted to him? That first touch that woke him up after all this time. 
The next few weeks became a game of trial and error. Of how little or much Rin and Jack could consume of each other.  Kissing was no longer an issue once the meds began to wear off, lips and tongues and mouths. It felt more like standing ankle deep in a bathtub. Warm and comforting; it was Jack that was overpowering.  
Eager to make up for a very long very lost amount of time. He stumbled along Rin's body uneasily because of how little clothing she removed at first. Not that he was in a rush to reveal what was underneath his oversized shirt and sweatpants. He wasn’t the one recoiling when the stimulation overwhelmed.  
“I'll take off my shirt. Touch me here, but where the fabric of my bra is. Tease the nipple with just your fingertips. No that's.. maybe under? Touch them. Oh God. Now your mouth. Right there.  Are you.. you took your shirt off too?” (She marveled at how defined, muscular Jack's body seemed despite his slight stature)   
Jack took initiative now and slid his fingers inside of Rin. He pumped them a few times guided by her ``Oh.. maybe you can touch me.. Do you feel.. It’s like a bud or a kernel.. Here let me.. It’s just right.. OH GOD.  Right like.. ”   And she would ride his hand and fingers that circled that bud.  
Rin would cry out in surprise.  Her body exploded in ecstasy. They weren't drowning anymore. Just swimming, bobbed under the water and surface. It was the sense-memory of suffocating, coupled with the dazzling pleasure of Jack's warm tongue as it teased her nipples, his strong fingers teasing her clit at the same time. His hot skin meshed with hers washed out by fear.  She apologized as they scrambled to arrange themselves. 
“Don't think I'm going anywhere for quite some time, my love.”  His words changed with the possessive my in lieu of the once meaningless sentiment. He would steal a chaste kiss from Rin whose cheeks flushed to match his own as he made that familiar adjustment between his legs.  In the future, Rin would come to him without a bra but reluctant to take her shirt off when Jack kept on never minding.
Jerry became an ally of sorts. He always had been on Rin's side after she read him her second section. It wasn't difficult to get him to believe in Jack's abilities. Staff has whispered down the corridors that Jack had suddenly found himself aware of a suicide attempt.  That dead reporter Emma mentioned, his fiancé had taken more pills than Rin ever fathomed any number of her attempts. (She had a flare for dramatics: slit wrists) Jerry mentioned Jack had a tantrum the likes of a toddler screaming the name Sarah whatever over and over, pounding his fists into his head to make whatever haunted him. Sure enough, this Sarah was found nearly having bled out and foaming at the mouth. 
“How would he even fucking know, poppet? Not unless Jack really was chatting up her dead fiancé “ As if that was all he needed, Jerry turned his back and caused distractions all the nights the Empath and her Beautiful Broken Man longed to be together.
It was stunning the way Jack learned to manipulate the system.  Only Rin, and reluctantly Jerry, knew he pocketed his meds.  Safely tucked away in those ugly arachnid globes in the pockets or purse of Billy and Emma.  He started talking more in group therapy and far less in private sessions.  Engaged in conversations with his sister and nephew, true ones that resulted in a simple smile or a laugh free from a facetious tone.  To the staff and doctors those fucking psychopharmeceuticals worked.  To Jack’s sister and nephew and whatever Rin was to him, there was a slowly lifting weight making the air around him lighter. Yet Rin kept her hands to herself.
More trial and error.  In the midst of fervent kisses, Rin took Jack in her hand.  A stroke or two was all she got in before he spasmed and came.  The mortification that flashed in his eyes as he curled in a fetal position between her and the wall while she whispered reassurances in his ear.  Touching him, caressing him and eventually taking him into her mouth became easier and longer with practice and patience.  
They laughed into each other’s mouths before Rin let her tongue trail down over his stomach. Anxiously Jack took off his pants and boxers, lying backwards.  He held the back of her head, moaned and twisted as she licked and sucked on him. His hips bucked and thrust upwards.  
-------------------
Present Day, Again
“Would it be so bad? I just want to feel you under me without fuckin clothes.” Jack took a chance and kissed Rin. Tongue pushed inside of her, but she stiffened. “Sweetheart,” now he whispered,  just his fingertips brushed her cheek. “Please, love, just touch me?”
Rin took a moment to think.  He wasn’t drowning anymore.  She could push that old feeling out of her third eye and bury herself in new ones.  She took a hold of her shirt and tossed it on the floor.  She took the erection that twiced against her thigh and held it just outside of her pulsating and ready sex.  With hands that sunk into her vunerable skin, Jack buried himself inside of her. 
That fire from Emma all that time ago poured from Jack’s body into hers.  It pushed back the water as he pumped rhythmically into Rin.  Building into a frenzy quickly, his pelvis crashed into hers before she could really come around to what was happening.  It briefly conquered the fears from before; caused hot tears to spring to her eyes that flowed uncontrolled down her cheeks.
In his fervor, Jack noticed and bent to kiss them away.  The gesture she had made that first time, a thumb brushed across her cheek and lower lip as he slowed his pace. Wren,” he took to calling her that tentatively.  “What is it?”
Before she could answer, Jack became distracted by something in the corner of the room.  Eyes passed between Rin and whatever it was that she couldn’t fathom or see.  She took his chin and focused it on her as they crashed together and apart again in another wave of building friction. It was too late though, he had abruptly pulled out and away from her. 
“NO!  STOP!  LEAVE ME ALONE!  CAN’T I HAVE ONE MOMENT OF FUCKING HAPPINESS WITHOUT ONE OF YOU LOOMING OVER ME LIKE A FUCKING PERV.”  He used fists to beat out a rhythm on his temples as he scurried to the corner of his bed with knees up to his chest.  
In the frenzy, Rin had been knocked to the floor.  Jerry had rushed in, he was never too far away just in case.  In a whirlwind, he picked Rin up with one hand and with the other attempted to intervene between Jack's fists and his head.  What could either of them do?  If attention was drawn to the room, surely the doctors would realize Jack had gone unmedicated for weeks.  Jerry’s eyes wide gestured towards Rin’s hands.  She shook her head, but Jack carried on.  
“Go on Jenny Wren, there has to be something your hands can do.  I’ll lose my job and you’ll be separated.  They’ll put him back in the Zoo.”  He was already yanking her arms forward and trying to remove her gloves before she could consent.
Rin knew The Zoo. It being rooms that could be monitored with two way mirrors.  You got a bed and a blanket.  They controlled when the lights came on and when they turned them off.  No privilege, no real structure.  They fed you, bathed you, and gave you “playtime” when they said.  No matter how you suffered from mental illness no one deserved that. She would never forgive herself.
“JERRY LET ME DO IT MYSELF!”  Rin bellowed if only to out yell Jack and his fit.  “Make her go away!  LEAVE ME ALONE” he cried underneath her.  Her hands free, she flexed them a few times before joining Jack on the bed.  She clutched his forearms and struggled to get a grip enough to pull them away from self-harm.  “JACK!  YOU HAVE GOT TO FUCKING STOP, MY DARLING.”  She slid her hands over his temples before he could punch them anymore.  She used the heels of her palms and pressed.  
It was immediate, the way her mind opened to him.  This time he was floating along the tide in a boat surrounded by what Rin could only guess were dead people.  They grabbed and tugged on Jack’s clothes.   Rin sat on the other side from him between two oars; she used one to swat at the ghosts who tried to pull them back in.  But there, walking along the surface, was a beautiful young woman.  Blonde hair flowed in waves down her back.  Sarah.
“You said we would be together, Jack.”  She was angry.  “That’s what you told him when he warned you I overdosed.  I survived that attempt, but not the second one.  Where is he Jack?  Why isn’t he here waiting for me?”
Jack stood up and the boat began to dangerously rock. Rin took his hand and he squeezed it in return.  He bellowed at the dead woman, “YOU SURVIVED AND HE MOVED ON.  I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR YOU BEING FUCKING STUPID, SARAH.  WHAT I TOLD YOU WAS MEANT TO EASE YOUR GUILT.  HE LOVED YOU.  YOU WERE SO LOVED.  HE DIDN’T CARE ABOUT YOUR MISTAKES.  YOU HAVE TO LEAVE ME ALONE.  ALL OF YOU.  I’M FUCKING DONE.  MOVE ON.  GO SOMEWHERE ELSE.  I CAN’T BE THE ONLY ONE OF MY KIND.  AND FUCK OFF BILLY TOO, MATE.”
“Jack?”  Rin spoke softly.  The hands gripped her tight in place of him.  They started to pull her in with him because he was useless now.  He stood up to them for possibly the first time in twenty years.  They would take her instead then.  
Jack seized Rin’s body before she could go over in his place.  He held her fast and tight and shielded her from them.  “NO.  You don’t fucking get ANYONE I love.  Not Billy.  Not Emma.  Not Martin.  No Wren or Rin.  AND YOU DON’T FUCKING GET ME ANYMORE.”  He took the oar up in his free hand and swung it around the bodies in the water.  He jabbed it forward like a sword at Sarah still pacing the side of the boat.  “GO, SARAH.  HE’S WAITING FOR YOU.  I PROMISE THIS TIME”  Jack insisted and pleaded.
Then it was so silent it deafened both Jack and Rin as they clung to one another in the boat.  In a flash and explosion, they separated and landed back on the bed in the room in an institution.  Jerry panted and pawed at the two of them dazed and uncertain.  Jack blinked a handful of times with no recollection of what just took place in his head and Rin’s.  They never knew or remembered Rin had learned.
Jack scoured the room for any sign of Sarah or anyone else.  He rubbed his eyes a few times then sighed heavily.  “I.. I want to go back to my room now.”  It was matter of fact.  
Jerry nodded and helped him back into his clothes.  Jack stumbled a bit but managed to kiss Rin sweetly before being led away and down the hall.  Rin knew Jerry would probably give him something to help him sleep at least for the night and probably into tomorrow.  She was afraid Jack had woken up a second time.  Not just from his nightmare of the last twenty years, but whatever happened between them.  It was a price she had to pay sometimes when she helped.  There was something Rin longed to say earlier.  What made her cry was an ember somewhere deep inside of Jack that he had never experienced before.  For the first time in his life, he had hope.
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the-queer-fox · 4 years
Text
So I decided to transcribe it because there are too many photos and I don't feel like sorting through them all. Also I can put it in chronological order so that's fun. Okay okay I hope you enjoy my commentary/incorrect quotes/weird summaries/actual quotes of Orphan Black, as recorded by iMessage (And no I will not explain what is canon and what isn't)
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Cosima: I think Delphine is my evil monitor
Sarah: Okay so avoid her at all costs
Cosima: I'm not gonna do that. In fact, I'm so against that that I'm going to develop a romantic relationship with her while knowing full well she's helping people who may or may not want to kill me
Sarah:
Sarah: Cosima what the fuck?
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Oh my god she just fuckin sent a rocket powered pencil flying into this woman's eye and like yEah I knew it was gonna happen cause my dad has a figurine for it but STILL HOLY SHIT
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Cosima: *walks in wearing giant rainbow ribbons in her hair*
Helena: You're better?
Cosima: Yeah, I'm all cured thanks to science
Everyone: *exchanges awkward looks*
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Alison and her husband just decided to become drug dealers and everyone is okay with this??? They're suburban parents with two young kids what the fuck????
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Alison and Donnie were in their room in underwear just throwing money around and twerking and doing all these crazy weird sexual dances and then their SIX YEAR OLD DAUGHTER WALKED IN IM SOBBING-
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Cosima, pretending to be Alison: And as a lesbian
Everyone: :0
Cosima, panicking: sUPPORTER-
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Season One: Neolution is the cause of all our problems
Season Two Neolution was just a front for the real bad guys
Season Three: Neolution? That's not important anymore
Season Four and Five: Surprise bitch it WAS Neolution this whole time!
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Cosima: Hey Kira, what's up?
Kira, an 8 year old: I dreamed you set my mother on fire
Cosima: uH-
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Cosima: *breaks into a birthing facility to find evil guys*
Cosima: *accidentally helps deliver a baby*
7 hours later
Oh wait yeah I forgot to mention it was a mutant baby so
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Cosima: Hi I'm Cosima
MK: I've heard about you. How's your disease?
Cosima: Oh you know, incurable, so that sucks
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Cosima: If we have to move forward, Rachel's out. So is Ira.
Rachel: You can't afford to exclude us Cosima
Cosima: Bye Bye
Rachel: :0
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Alison is now performing a community theatre rendition of Jesus Christ Superstar and I don't know how to react to this
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Appreciation for the fact that there's two dead bodies buried in Alison and Donnie's garage.
Rachel: Aldous Leekie is buried in your garage?
Alison: Minus the head which was donated to science
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Kids: *go wandering into the woods*
Me: Oh my fuckin god they gonna die
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Cosima, leaning back in her chair: Ya got a lotta dead things in here! Don't ya!
Delphine: *panik face*
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Mud: Don't go down there
Cosima: *goes down there*
Cosima: Live fast die young bad girls do it well-
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Krystal is such a dumb bitch I love her.
Art: Steer him to Dyad
Sarah: Don't make it obvious
Krystal: yOU SOLD YOUR COMPANY TO DYAD-
Art and Sarah: *facepalm*
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Felix: Goddess of wisdom and knowledge
Cosima:
Felix, whispering: Do what comes naturally
Cosima: *starts a rave on the dance floor*
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Nooooo
NOOOOOOOO
THEY KILLED GRACIE! AND I ACTUALLY LIKED HER
FUCK
And now Siobhan's dead, damn. At least she killed Ferdinand in the process.
No this is sad
FUCK FUCK FUCK FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK
SEASON FIVE AINT PULLIN ANY PUNCHES HOLY SHIT HOLY SHT HOLY SHIT
THEY'RE JUST
KILLING OFF THE MAIN CHARACTERS LIKE WHO GIVES A SHIT
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Doot Doot Doot Doot
A casual update with all the clones - what are they doing now? Season Five Edition
Sarah: Kidnapping her own daughter
Cosima: Starting a riot on a private island
Alison: Vibin in California with kombucha
Helena: Stick in baby
Rachel: Pulling her own eyeball out of her head
Krystal: Still believing cosmetic companies are the real bad guys here
Tony: Off vibin somewhere
MK: Fuckin ded
Beth: Also fuckin ded
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R says:
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moistmailman · 5 years
Text
House Wife AU part 5
*Halloween Night*
Pyrrha, wearing a cowboy costume: *handing out candy* Oh my goodness, what are you supposed to be, sweetie?
Little boy, happily: I’m an astwonaut!
Pyrrha, giggling: Well you have to be the cutest little astronaut ever. Here you go. *puts candy in bag.
Boy's parents: What do you say to the nice lady?
Little boy: Thank you, nice lady.
Pyrrha, smiling sweetly: You’re welcome, sweetie. Have a happy Halloween! *shuts door and yells towards her stairs* Hey kids! Are you guys almost ready for trick or treating?
Troy’s voice, from up stairs: Yeah hold on! Almost done!
Pyrrha: Please hurry! Uncle Roman and Mercury should be here any minute no—
*Door bell rings*
Pyrrha, grabbing bowl of candy: Ope, more trick or treaters. *opens door* Happy Halloween!
Roman, chuckling: Oooh, we get candy too?
Mercury: And here I thought this holiday was only for kids.
Pyrrha, chuckling: Oh, it’s you two. I’m sorry. I thought you guys were trick or treaters. Please, come in. The kids are getting ready.
Mercury, walking in: So, are the kiddos excited to go trick or treating?
Pyrrha, smiling: They sure are. They been waiting all year for this. They were too excited to go to sleep last night actually. They were too busy talking about how much candy they were going to get. It was adorable.
Roman, smiling: Yeah, I'm sure it was. So, where’s Cindie?
Pyrrha, frowning: Hmm? She should be around here somewhere. Where is she? Hey sweetheart, come here! Roman and Mercury are here!
Cinder’s voice, sighing in the other room: Hold on! Just....give a minute.
Mercury, raising an eyebrow: What’s wrong with her?
Pyrrha, smiling: Oh nothing. Our kids’ picked our costumes and she’s....she’s not the biggest fan of hers.
Roman: Oh really? How bad is it?
Pyrrha: It’s not even bad. She’s just being a little grump. Cinder, sweetheart, are you coming?
Cinder’s voice, approaching: Yeah, hold on! I’m on my way.
*Suddenly Cinder grudgingly walks through the door with a Bo Peep costume on, including the pink polkadotted dress, hat, and even cane*
Cinder, scowling:...........
Roman/Mercury:........*snorts laughter*
Cinder, glaring: You shut your god damn mouths!
Mercury, laughing: Nice costume. Where's your other toy friends?
Cinder, gritting her teeth: Shut up.
Roman, laughing: Are you trying out a new look or something? It really suits you.
Cinder: I swear to God I will fucking shove my foo—
Pyrrha: Hey, language. Just calm down and ignore them, okay? Besides, I think you look really cute in that costume anyway. *kisses her* You're my cute Bo Peep.
Cinder, sighing: Where are the kids?
Pyrrha, smiling: They should be coming down. *Yells towards the stairs* Hey kids! Come down, uncle Roman and Mercury are here!
*Loud footsteps are heard*
Achilles’s voice: COMING!
*Achilles and Troy excitedly run down stairs in sheep costumes*
Pyrrha, cooing: Aww, look how precious you two look. You’re my two little precious lambs. *kisses their heads*
Mercury: So, I see there’s a theme going on.
Pyrrha, smiling: Yeah, they just saw toy story last week and loved it. So they picked our costumes and we picked theirs. *Cooing* And I'm honestly so happy I picked these costumes, but they are absolutely adorable, I swear. Whose mommy's little lambs? *Kisses their heads a bunch againi
Achilles: Mooom! You're embarrassing us!
Pyrrha, punching Achilles cheek: Oh nonsense. There's nothing embarrassing about a mother's love. Now scoot together so I can't take some pictures.
*Pyrrha snaps a bunch of pictures of her kids, while slightly getting teary eyed and mumbling about her "precious lambs"*
Roman, crouching down: So are you kiddos ready for trick or treating?
Achilles, jumping: Heck yeah I am!
Troy, shaming with excitement: I can’t wait! We are going to get so much candy!
Mercury: You got that right! We marked all the rich people’s house that give the best candy out! So your bags are going to be packed!
Achilles: Yes! I can’t wait!
Troy: Lets Go!
Cinder: Hold on, guys. Let me have a word with your 'uncles' real quick. Comm’ere for a minute, you two.
Mercury, sighing: Oh great.
Roman, sighing: Just give us a minute kids. This won’t take long.
*Cinder escorts Mercury and Roman to the living room privately*
Cinder, deadly serious: I just want to tell you guys that if you lose our kids, or if ANYTHING happens to them, I’ll kill you both.
Roman, rolling his eyes: Yeah Yeah, I know.
Cinder: I’m serious. I will kill you both with no hesitation at all. No matter how far you run, and where you hide, I will find and slaughter you both like the dogs you are.
Mercury, groaning: We know already. You literally tell us this each time we baby sit them at all.
Cinder, growling: And I mean it each and everytime too. Don’t let them out of your sights, or so help me god I’ll—
Roman, rolling his eyes: Kill us, we got it. Can we go now?
Cinder: Yeah. Get out of here. And don’t make me regret letting you do this.
Roman, smiling: Right. See you around, farmer’s daughter.
Cinder: Dont you fucking call me th—
Roman, leaving with the kids: Let’s go guys. Say bye bye to your mommies.
Troy/Achilles, waving: Bye bye!
Pyrrha, smiling and waving: Goodbye, we love you! Have fun and be safe!
Roman, waving: We will. See you later.
Pyrrha, smiling: Well the kids are gone now. So you know what that means we can do finally~
Cinder, smiling: Oh most definitely.
Pyrrha: Time to watch a bunch of bad horror movies!
Cinder, chuckling: Yep! Ill make the popcorn! Let's go!
*hours later*
Roman, walking down the street: Man, I can’t believe that Cindie doesn’t fully trust us with the kiddos yet.
Mercury: I know right. I mean, we’re great babysitters.
Roman: We’re the best! And we’re doing this for free too! She should be greatful!
Mercury: She really should! But no, she thinks we're nothing but idiots.
Roman: Tell me about it. We're not that dumb. We are actually very two smart men!
Mercury: You can say that again! Plus the kids love us! Don’t you guys?
Achilles/Troy:.........
Mercury, concerned: Hey, are you kiddos alright? Wait, did you guys change bags or something? *crouches down* What’s goin—.......
Roman, worries: What? What’s wrong? *crouches down* Do they have candy on their mouths or som— *gasps* O-oh my god.
*Roman looks and sees two confused kids wearing identical sheep costumes, but being completely two different kids, both of them being cat faunuses*
Roman, panicking: Oh my fucking god!
Mercury, panicking: Please tell me I’m going insane! Please tell me that I don’t see two cat ears on them right now! Tell me anything but—
Roman, nearly crying: Jesus Christ, we somehow mixed up kids! We got the wrong ones!
Mercury, voice cracking: Anything BUT that!
Roman: Oh my god! This can't be happening?! We just accidentally committed two kidnappings! How is this even possible?! How did we manage to do this?! The chances of this happening is comically and astronomically low! Oh fuck!! This is so stupid, even for us! Oh my god! This doesn't happen to normal people! This is like some three stooges level of stupidity! Cinder's going to kill is!
Mercury: Stop jumping to conclusion man! We might not die! Look, maybe....just maybe, Cinder might not notice if we show up with these two instead. L-like, we could dye her hair red and boom, it's essentially Achilles and Troy! That's possible, right?
Roman: NO, YOU DAMN IDIOT! WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?! DID YOU SUDDENLY GROW SHIT FOR BRAINS OR SOMETHING?! FOR GOD SAKE, ONE OF THEM IS A GIRL! A GIRL WITH CAT EARS! HOW THE HELL ARE WE GOING TO CONVINCE THEIR PARENTS THAT THEYRE ACHILLES AND TROY?! AND WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO WITH THESE TWO KIDS RIGHT HERE?!
Mercury: I DONT KNOW BUT STOP YELLING AT ME, IM GRASPING FOR STRAWS! I'M DESPERATE!
Roman: OH MY GOD! SHE’S GOING GO KILL US!!! SHE’S ACTUALLY GOING GO KILL US! WE’RE DEAD! WE’RE SO DEAD! OH CHRIST, WE NEED TO MOVE AWAY, FAR AWAY TO A PLACE WHERE SHE CANT FIND US! CHANGE IDENTITIES AND LOOKS! ROMAN AND MERCURY NO LONGER EXIST ANYMORE! WE’RE NOW GRAY AND YURI! GROW A MUSTACHE WHILE I GROW A GOATEE OR SOMETHING, I DONT FUCKING KNOW–
Mercury: GET A HOLD OF YOURSELF, MAN! WE GOTTA CALM DOWN! WE CANT JUST GIVE UP HOPE RIGHT AWAY! HOPE IS ALL WE GOT! LOOK, WE JUST GOTTA FIND THESE KIDS’ PARENT AND THEN WE’RE FIND OUR KIDS! OKAY?! ALL IS NOT LOST!
Roman: YOURE RIGHT! ALL WE GOTTA DO IS FIND THEM AND WE ARENT DEAD! YOU'RE BRILLIANT!
Mercury: Okay, uhm....Heya kiddos, uhm.....do you think you guys can show us to your house? You have any idea where you live?
One of the kids: *nods quietly*
Mercury: Yes yes yes yes! We aren’t going to die! We are going to survive! Okay, let’s go!
*meanwhile*
Pyrrha, eating popcorn: I honestly don’t understand why everyone in these horror movies are so dumb. Like, does common sense don't exist in these worlds?
Cinder, chuckling: How else are they supposed to die in these easily avoidable ways for our amusement?
Pyrrha, giggling: Yeah, I guess you’re right. But couldn't they just make the killer smarter?
Cinder: Yeah, but then they would have to put effort into the writing.
Pyrrha: *snorts*
*Phone rings in the kitchen*
Cinder, standing: I'll get it.
Pyrrha: Can you make some more popcorn while you’re at it?
Cinder, smiling: Yeah, hold on.
*Cinder walks into the kitchen and answer their phone*
Cinder: Hello?........Yang? Yang who? Oh wait, you’re one of Pyrrha’s friends, right?....oh, okay. How can I help you?........wait, slow down. You're talking to fast.......what do you mean your wife’s going to kill you if she finds out. What’s going on?......uh no, why would we have your kids?......a mix up? What mix up?.......why do you have Troy and Achil— OH MY GOD, I’M GOING TO KILL THEM!!!
206 notes · View notes
john1513kjv-blog · 5 years
Text
youtube
Mario Lopez speaks out on Pager U about transgenderism and the idea that parents are letting their children to choose their own gender, to which Mario says, it's dangerous to let your child choose their gender when they're not old enough to make such decisions.
This is what he had to say:
“Look, I’m never one to tell anyone how to parent their kids obviously, and I think if you come from a place of love, you really can’t go wrong.”
“But at the same time, my God, if you’re three years old and you’re saying you’re feeling a certain way or you think you’re a boy or a girl or whatever the case may be, I just think it’s dangerous as a parent to make this determination,” he continued. “Then, well, okay, then you’re going to a boy or a girl, whatever the case may be … It’s sort of alarming and my gosh, I just think about the repercussions later on.”
The 45-year-old entertainment host explained that when you’re that young “you don’t know anything about sexuality yet, you’re just a kid.”
https://faithit.com/mario-lopez-dangerous-kids-pick-own-gender/
Reading this, I would applaud for his statement because if we're gonna be responsible parents (as a privilege given by God), we're are to guide our children in the right way (in the way of serving and loving God) and leave the discussion of sex and gender when they are older.
Children are not mentally prepared for things like that neither they should be thinking like that.
However, sadly Lopez had to "apologize" for his statement on children picking their gender. Because his fame is much more important than God.
In a statement to PEOPLE on Wednesday, Lopez apologized for his remarks.
“The comments I made were ignorant and insensitive, and I now have a deeper understanding of how hurtful they were,” he said. “I have been and always will be an ardent supporter of the LGBTQ community, and I am going to use this opportunity to better educate myself. Moving forward I will be more informed and thoughtful.”
https://www.google.com/amp/s/people.com/tv/mario-lopez-criticized-comments-parenting-transgender-kids/amp/
This is no surprise to Christians. We are called to stand by the truth, and proclaim the gospel to those who are lost. Anyone who denies this stance concerning sexuality, is ultimately denying Christ.
Matthew 16:25-26 KJV
25 For whosoever will save his life shall lose it: and whosoever will lose his life for my sake shall find it.
26 For what is a man profited, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul? or what shall a man give in exchange for his soul?
Am I saying that telling an LGBT person this precious truth, is hate? No. Disagreement does not 100% equal hate. We are called to love our enemies and pray for those that persecute and hate us. But by no means we should shrink away from the faith because of the majority will be against you for standing for the truth.
To any of the LGBT people who will see this post, I will let you know: I don't hate you. No, in fact I will not stand for unjust treatment of LGBT kids rejected by their families. But, at the same time, I won't say that I will condone that behavior, because that's not how God created you to be.
Genesis 1:27 KJV
So God created man in his own image, in the image of God created he him; male and female created he them.
The truth is, we inherited the sinful nature of Adam and Eve, and not it caused a wall between our relationship with God, it affected our relationship with our fellow man, including our sexual relationships and how we identify ourselves.
I don't think anyone of us realizes that identifying ourselves anything other than the gender we were assigned to since birth, is a form of hatred towards God, when He had loved us and considered us His most precious treasure.
God knew us before He "formed us in our mother's womb" (Jeremiah 1:5) and has determined who we are, personality and genderwise.
And sadly, because of our rebellious, sinful nature, we choose to reject God's ways and decide we can choose our gender. God doesn't want this for His creation. He wants us to live with Him, and fix our relationship with Him. And unless there is anyway to undo this constant rebellion, any sinner (including LGBT people) that doesn't acknowledge this as an act of sin, will not be part of the kingdom of heaven.
1 Cornithians 6:9-10 ESV
Or do you not know that the unrighteous will not inherit the kingdom of God? Do not be deceived: neither the sexually immoral, nor idolaters, nor adulterers, nor men who practice homosexuality,10 nor thieves, nor the greedy, nor drunkards, nor revilers, nor swindlers will inherit the kingdom of God.
So you're probably asking, "How can I even hope to enter heaven if God says that anyone including LGBT people who does these things can't enter there"?
Well, I have good news for you. God has provided a way for all of us to really enter heaven. How he did it?
John 3:16-17 NKJV
16 For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him [obeys His word] should not perish but have everlasting life. 17 For God did not send His Son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world through Him might be saved.
Because God loves all of you so much, that He gave His Only Son [Jesus], who He also love, that you will feel that nothing in this world, even what you identify as, will never satisfy your needs. The only one who can fill the emptiness in your heart, is Jesus. Who took the hit for you, for the punishment of sin. It was our sin (including homosexuality) that crucified Him, and it should have been us who should be crucified there. But Jesus decided to take our place there.
Because of LOVE!
It was love that by what He did, is so we can have a second chance to enter heaven again and have a relationship with God, like a father who is waiting for his rebellious son to come back.
Because God loves us so, He will not force His love towards those that don't want it. The beauty of how He created us, is that he gave us free will and the freedom to choose of we want to follow and obey Him, or choose our own way, but end up lost forever.
I hope that even someone out there, may see this that may have the hope and desire to be right with God again.
God is calling you home! The only question remains, do you want to return home?
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r3b3lgrrrrrrrl · 5 years
Text
A LunaTic and her Gunn (Part 14)
"To Clvlnd She Goes"
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Colson tells Emma that Luna is going to fly in tonight so they can have lunch tomorrow.
"Is she staying with you?" She asks.
"Nah, she's gonna stay down town." He reassures her. They agree on a time, Emma calls her mom to confirm Colson can drop Casi off for while. "Cool. Thanks Em."
She nods her head, smiling at him. "You're welcome." She says before he walks off to collect Casi.
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After booking her flight, Luna heads back to Ashley's. She's home now, chilling on the couch with Jagger. Luna tells her of her plans to fly out to Cleveland. Ashley's shocked. She knows Casi but she didn't meet her until she and Kells had been friends for a good while. "Wow!" She says, cocking her head back.
"I know. It's like meeting his mom, but obviously not his mom, you know?" Replies Luna.
Ashley doesn't want to but she can't help but laugh. Luna's never done well with parents or any type of authority. "Well, she is an important mother to him. Considering..." Referring not only to Emma being Casi's mother but also to Colson's own absentee mother.
"I know." Says Luna quietly "That's why it's important and I don't wanna make a bad first impression."
"You'll be fine. We're not 17 anymore. She's a mom, but she's your peer. Just be your shining, brilliant self." She says popping off the couch. "Now come on, I'll help you pack AND even drive youuuuuuu."
"Oh, FUCK! A ride to the airport?? Now THAT'S friendship!!! Laughs Luna as the girls head up stairs."
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Luna gets comfortable on the bed, pulling out her vape pen. The flight was smooth and she had easily ubered to the hotel.
She'd FaceTimed Colson once she'd checked in and had gotten settled. He was home playing FortNite Casi. They spoke for a bit, he gave her shit for not letting him pick her up. She told him to shut up, that she was fine and to enjoy hanging out with Casi. He's going to pick her up around 1230 tomorrow, after he drops Casi off. They exchange goodnights and I love yous.
He texts her his Snap code later and sends her a dick pic through it. She screenshots it but doesn't reply.
"A little teasing never hurt no body..." She thinks as she snuggles into the bed. After a few minutes she misses Colson. She Snaps him her slender legs propped up, toes and tattoos in full view. She tries to fall asleep after, hating the familiar feeling of a once full but now empty bed. It makes her think of Justin. "But you'll SEE him tomorrow." She reassures herself before popping a lunesta to shut her mind up.
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Casi and Colson had hung out, played video games and now she was in bed. He's in his own too, smoking a joint, waiting for Luna to Snap him back. She does. When he sees it, he instantly gets hard. He screenshots it so he can jerk off to her.
"Fuck, she gets me!" He thinks as he easily cums. Once he lays back down, he looks over at his empty bed missing Luna. "Soon enough." He falls asleep with dreams of their future adventures together dancing in his head.
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Colson and Luna arrive at Blue Point for lunch. Emma is already seated and watches them come in. They're dressed causally but stylish. Luna in a black lace top, cuffed ripped boyfriend jeans and nude heels. Colson spots Emma and waves holding Luna's hand, leading her to the table with him.
"Hey!" He says leaning over to peck Emma. "Emma this Luna. Luna, Emma." He introduces them.
Luna smiles brightly and reaches her hand out to Emma. "Hi! Nice to meet you!" She says.
"You too." Responds Emma, taking her hand. Once they sit down, the server greets them. Taking their drink and appetizer order. Emma asks how they met. Colson first speaks of their past not meeting all those years ago. It rings a bell in Emma's head. "Don't tell me you're The Girl in the Cheetah Print coat!!" She exclaims, astonished.
Luna laughs and looks at Colson. One look. He blushes. "Yup!! This is her." He says proudly, throwing his arm around her without a thought.
They order food. Conversation between Emma and Luna flows easily. Emma asks Luna what she does, where she lives, if she has any kids.
Luna answers, that she calls NY home. That she does not have any children. Explains that she does a little of everything. That she's a singer/songwriter on an independent label. How she's had a few art showings and has successfully sold some solid pieces. That she enjoys scouting, shooting and helping upcoming artist break through. She mentions a bit of her political activism.
"Wait, so you went to Flint?" Emma asks, impressed.
"Yeah, we loaded up 3 large Uhauls, packed to the gills with thousands of cases of water and drove them from NY to MI. I went the first 3 times to establish a solid connection, then set it up to where there's been 2 full monthly deliveries for the last 4yrs. It's still not nearly enough though. So, I'm currently working with this great guy in the community, Gary. We're building a class action lawsuit at the moment. We're preparing to take it all the way to the Supreme Court, if we have too. Not that those biased fucks will really do anything... But we either fight or die, right?" Luna concludes.
"Wow." That's really admirable." Emma says listening intently.
"I have the platform, resources and the intelligence to help. I'd be a Fucking dick and a part of the problem, if I didn't." Luna says with a sadness in her eyes.
Emma nods in agreement.
She looks at Luna seriously, making her nervous. "I feel like I can ask you things and you'll answer them honestly, which I truly respect and appreciate." She continues looking over at Colson "I like you, you seem like a strong, independent, educated, KIND woman, who can potentially have a very positive influence.." She looks at Colson again "Over our daughter. But I have to ask you. What drugs do you do?"
Luna laughs, catching Emma off gaurd. "I'm so sorry. That was incredibly rude. You just me threw me off!" Luna apologizes. "To answer your question, I smoke a LOT of pot. I LOVE a mushroom and maybe some pure MDMA, but I don't fuck around with scary drugs. Like meth or heroin. I'm already too hype for coke. I drink but... Pot, pot's the go to. Always."
Emma looks at her, appreciating how candid she is. Then she looks at Colson, who's staring at her. Hard. "You know how much coke Colson blows?" She asks dead out.
"What the fuck, Em??" Colson throws his long arms out.
"I'm only asking Colson, because if you're serious enough to want her to meet Casi. Then, I need to know, that she knows what she's getting herself into. So, that our little girl doesn't get attached and her heart broken, if Luna decides it's too much in 6mnths." Emma states emotionally.
"You think I'd bring Cas around someone who I didn't think was gonna ride with me for the long haul??" He snaps back.
Luna interrupts them both. "Guys, chill out." She grabs Colson's thigh with her left hand squeezing it under the table. While she reaches across the table with her right, to lightly touch Emma's hand. "It's ok. It's a valid question, Bunny. That's why we're here." She says looking at Colson. Then she turns to Emma, "Honestly, obviously I know he does blow and addies, I don't know how much because I don't do it with him, but I have an idea." Luna pauses. Then continues. "No one can guarantee anything in this life, but as adults we CAN control our own actions. The only thing I can tell you, with absolution, woman to woman. Is that, I've never done this before. Being in love with a man who has a child. I will guarantee, to you, her MOTHER. That if I do develop a relationship with your daughter and for some crazy reason Colson and I don't work out. I still have control over my own actions and if Casi wanted to continue being friends with me, as long as it was ok with both of you, I WILL make it a point to maintain my relationship with her. IF, it came to that, which I do NOT think it will. Because, honestly. I love Colson, Emma. For all of his greatness and all of his flaws. I'm all in. If I wasn't, we both know I wouldn't have cared to jump on a plane last night to be here today. This. Colson. Casi. Your opinion. They're all very important to me." She squeezes Emma's hand slightly, giving her a comforting smile.
"Fuck." Is all that Colson can think. Completely enamoured.
"Thank you." Emma says. "That is a lot more mature and understanding than I expected from someone without kids." She smiles at Luna.
"No. Thank you for giving me a chance. Kids fucking terrify me." Luna let's out a light laugh.
"Well, be ready then because Cas is a pistol!!" Emma laughs with her.
Colson watches both women enjoy each other's company while they finish lunch. "Wow." Is all he can think, falling even more in love with Luna while being equally grateful for Emma.
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Heading back from lunch, Colson tells Luna how much her coming to meet with Emma means to him. "I know, Bunny." She says. Going on to express her relief of how well it went. That, when they were leaving though, she wasn't surprised that her and Emma had hugged sincerely, before parting ways. As she sweetly, leans over to kiss him on the cheek.
But it's not enough for her. So she moves to his jaw, then his ear, his neck. While her hands slide over his pants unbuckling them, pulling out his hard cock. He lifts his ass so she can slide his pants off slightly. Then she takes his cock into her mouth.
"God Daaaamnn!!!" Colson thinks, trying to focus on the road.
"FUUUUUCK, BUNNY!!!" He groans loudly lifting his hips, pushing himself deeper into her mouth. As they drive through downtown Cleveland, she sucks his cock intently. He cums just as they pull up to the hotel. "JESUS FUCKING CHRIST." He says in exasperated satisfaction. She pops her head up. He wipes the stray cum from her open mouth. "You're so fucking HOT. I love that you swallow." He smiles at her, his hand resting on her face, from where he wiped his excess cum. "Want me to come up and return the favor? He asks.
"Mmmmmm...as hard as that is to turn down. You should get back to Casi. She's waiting on you and I've taken enough of her time today."
"Are you sure? What are you gonna do?"
"Honestly? I'm probably gonna go upstairs and book a flight tonight. I'd rather get back to LA late and tired, then be weird and manic in a city I don't know." She laughs.
"You can come over and hang out with me and Cas."
"Nahh... this is her time. Are you coming back to LA with her?
"Yeah, tomorrow. Especially if you're leaving tonight."
"You talk to Casi, like I said, tell her about me, ask HER if she'd like to meet me and let her choose where. Even if I don't meet her officially tomorrow, I'll slide by to see you." She says kissing him.
"Aight." He begrudgingly agrees.
"I love you. I'll let you know when my flight is and no matter what, will see you tomorrow." She says kissing him deeply. He agrees before she slides out of his Cobra. "Looooove you." She beams before closing the door.
"LOVE YOU!!!!" He hollers, laughing from inside the car before he pulls off.
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"Fuuuuuck, I love him...... Damn! She's REEEEEEALLY nice, I wasn't sure how this would go, but I enjoyed her a lot." Luna thinks, happily trotting into the hotel. "That was much less painful than you had anticipated, ya freak." She mocks herself, laughing, heading to her room.
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"I knew Em would like Loons. How can you not? I can't wait for Cas to meet her. They're gonna have so much fun together.... She really is amazing." His heart gets a little sad, missing her already as he heads to pick up Casi.
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To be continued....
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me-on-set · 5 years
Text
Harrowingly Strange
When was the last time you had to face a moral dilemma? I am still reeling. I actually just got home. I think I invented a new selfie style. I wanted to take a photo of my makeup on and off.
As I currently write this, I am not an actor but instead have been doing background work for the past year. I've occasionally been a featured extra and was a body double once.
It's fascinating, seeing and doing the work that embodies being on set.
A couple of days ago, I received a message from a casting agency that had my headshot asking to submit my photo for a featured non-speaking role with a local production company. It was a one or two day shoot at $200 per day. I said yes and I got the gig.
When you are cast, you get an email the night before with details about the set location, start time, special instructions, and wardrobe. This show I booked was for a reenactment TV series about real world events. The exciting news was that this particular episode revolved around a crisis that occurred in my parents' homeland. I was to play someone at home seeing the news on television, and then in a second scene complain to police of their incompetence. I was asked to bring leisure clothing one would wear at home.
When I first started being an extra, I would bring my clothes in a backpack, trying really hard not to care too much. That behavior did not last. I found my interest stumbling forward into a natural evolution. I started taking luggage to neatly carry my wardrobe options. I found that I would mostly get cast as a mid-30's businessman. This led me to comfortably bring my outfits in a garment bag. It's funny how familiarity can grow your views.
For today, I packed shorts, sweatpants, t-shirts, a hoodie, a pair of runners, and a pair of flip flops. I got these flip flops during my last vacation with my mom overseas in her hometown. I also brought some henley shirts and arrived on set in khakis and a short-sleeved polo because there was also a mention of button-ups being an option.
The majority of work involved as an extra is waiting. It's a good idea to bring a book, although in this day and age, occupying oneself with a smart phone is a much more fulfilling time killer. I didn't end up using any of the clothes I had brought except for my belt and my runners. After my hair and makeup were done I decided to satisfy my curiosity by searching keywords of this specific production. I searched the name of the character I was to reenact. Adding quotations to strict strings of words, I had soon discovered the event I was going to portray. This was when my moral dilemma began.
I was born and raised in North America by immigrant parents who arrived in their early 20's. The typical experiences had by people of color paint a relatively positive mural that represents my upbringing. Having visited my ethnic country many times throughout my life, I felt, and still feel, a deep connection to the motherland. This connection is common for others like myself, powered by identity in a time where life will sometimes present it as a limitation. Conversely, this only strengthens cultural pride.
The role I was to play was an international representing their countrymen against the very country I identify with. Pangs of uneasiness flooded my body. There was another featured role performer who had an earlier call time. We sat together in the holding area. He was cast to play the part of a family member learning the news of the event. What surprised me more was the fact that he was a recent immigrant from my country of ethnicity. Us both, cast in roles of coincidental conflict of interest?
When it comes to acting, the only other time I recall having feelings of apprehension was during a big budget movie filmed in a church. I was a church goer among a sea of church goers seated in church pews. We were instructed to portray the enjoyment of a church service. Some of us were selected to stand and sway to the Christian music. Some had their eyes closed, head tilted to the ceiling, palms facing up to the heavens. As easy a physical task that is, I instead opted to clap along to the band and pretend to really feel the sounds of my favorite music. I know it's just acting but I was driven by the thought of my mom seeing me do anything other than that on camera. So, I coursed the music through my veins. I know the history of the band members, the albums, this music moves me, pretend.
I received my paperwork and read it over a cup of coffee from craft services. It was standard paperwork that I've filled out over a dozen times before. I looked at the inviting exit door. I was parked right outside. This is not that big of a deal, is it? I imagined this TV episode making its way to the news overseas, the citizens all over the world deeming me a traitor for perpetuating a negative image, not merely through action but through representation against them. Against us. Am I selling out? For two hundred bucks?
I thought about getting up and leaving. I thought about all of the hard work that people have put into this specific production. If you haven't been behind the scenes before, it is quite the trip. An assortment of heavy duty cables line the floors, taped in place. Racks of props in designated areas. The backstage crew zip around in sync, bursting with walkie-talkie sounds and hollers of instruction. There is a commonality in the many interactions, their minds tuned into the goal meant to be achieved. This is their career.
This is my hobby. I am a prop. Would leaving this put a blemish on my record in the local film community, or the film industry as a whole, because I wasted everyone's time being sensitive? As I languished, I get a message from my best friend and I tell him I'm on set. I tell him:
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For some reason, that makes me feel better. I just might be able to work with that mentality. The other guy has finished. He returns his wardrobe and collects his belongings. I ask him if he knows what this show is about. We speak in our language among the English-speakers. I ask him if he thinks people back home are going to be mad at us. I ask him if he knew we were going to be doing this. He seems ok with it all. He said he was there during the actual event. He's new to the industry. We laugh about how we can pass as different races. This is his first time being on camera. He said he enjoyed the experience. I ask him if he'll continue. He said yes. I hope he does.
Finally, wardrobe is set and I am wearing a navy blue golf shirt and some gray slacks. I want to feel good, like the other times I've worked. How can I get that feeling? They're calling me on set. They adjust the lighting while I sit in front of the camera. A fog machine fills the mock living room belonging to my character. When the camera rolls, there is a fake TV in front of me that I am to watch casually at first and then grow increasingly interested as the live footage I am pretending to watch unfolds. I am supposed to build up into a frustration with the host country. My country. As I understand it, the real guy is being interviewed and I am the reenactment; the illustration of his side of the story. I do the scene. Twice. Filming took less than 5 minutes total. The whole time I was thinking about my mom. I can remember it still, a few hours ago today, the director describing the gradual transpiring of the footage to guide me. To help me see a reason to be frustrated on camera. It wasn't helping. It's not his fault. I don't think it's anyone's fault. I don't think they even knew why I would be uncomfortable. I don't think they knew much about the countries involved in the event. They even spelled the city name wrong. I don't even think the takes were that bad.
I wish it wasn't about my country. If it were different, I feel like I could have given more - like I had done at the church.
It's unsettling to perform make-believe, but for myself I have managed to apply a mental exercise that immerses me into a character; to actually be the person. The trick is to relate. To tie the emotion to a real memory and relive it. If it had only been about another country, I'm sure I would have enjoyed the process a lot more.
I'm writing this and I was hoping it would help me shake away this dread. Thoughts of regret imagining if I had only researched the keywords sooner. Maybe I would have cancelled. But that wouldn't have been better. I would be blacklisted and never cast as another role again. Or maybe I'm being dramatic. Hey, that's good for this line of work, right?
I honestly hope the final cut looks great. This is the biggest role I've ever been in. They gelled my hair funny like a nerd, I had on large framed glasses, just like the portrayed, and they put makeup on my upper lip to hide my dark, clean-shaven stubble.
When I got home, before I washed my makeup off, I took a before and after mirror selfie because my face looked comedically smooth. Taking the pictures reminded me of when I was sipping coffee in the holding area. I had taken pictures of my paperwork. I remember my mind racing. The feeling was like gathering license plates and insurance information after a collision. You know, just in case I have to stand trial, my cultural membership in jeopardy. I can review my situation with a lawyer to see what I can and can not say during a variety show interview that is getting my side of the story after viral, captioned screenshots of me flood the internet with embarrassing memes, stamped into history. Jesus Christ, that would be the worst. Here I go again with extreme maybes. It's an entertaining curse that I will forever be engulfed in my own hypothetical torture.
Anyway, here's that selfie I invented:
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Yeah my bathroom mirrors are dirty.
I can't wait for my next job that I can cleanse my palate with. I really hope I can accept today as purely an actor's portrayal, and not a turncoat betrayal. This can't be my last go at acting. I ate some of my country's food for supper. I feel a bit better. I'm wearing a shirt that is emblazoned with our country's sports hero.
I have always been excited to see the final release of a production I am in, except for this one now. Uncontrollably, my perverse curiosity into the film world is only strengthening, so I don't think even the worst thoughts can slow my future participation. The silver lining is that the uncomfortable bar is set to a new level. I could reenact a murderous deviant now without batting a moral eyelash, I like to think. All for the sake of film.
- WSS, February 8, 2019
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