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#mind boggled again about the numbers

reasonsforhope · 5 months

Text

No paywall version here.

"Two and a half years ago, when I was asked to help write the most authoritative report on climate change in the United States, I hesitated...

In the end, I said yes, but reluctantly. Frankly, I was sick of admonishing people about how bad things could get. Scientists have raised the alarm over and over again, and still the temperature rises. Extreme events like heat waves, floods and droughts are becoming more severe and frequent, exactly as we predicted they would. We were proved right. It didn’t seem to matter.

Our report, which was released on Tuesday, contains more dire warnings. There are plenty of new reasons for despair. Thanks to recent scientific advances, we can now link climate change to specific extreme weather disasters, and we have a better understanding of how the feedback loops in the climate system can make warming even worse. We can also now more confidently forecast catastrophic outcomes if global emissions continue on their current trajectory.

But to me, the most surprising new finding in the Fifth National Climate Assessment is this: There has been genuine progress, too.

I’m used to mind-boggling numbers, and there are many of them in this report. Human beings have put about 1.6 trillion tons of carbon in the atmosphere since the Industrial Revolution — more than the weight of every living thing on Earth combined. But as we wrote the report, I learned other, even more mind-boggling numbers. In the last decade, the cost of wind energy has declined by 70 percent and solar has declined 90 percent. Renewables now make up 80 percent of new electricity generation capacity. Our country’s greenhouse gas emissions are falling, even as our G.D.P. and population grow.

In the report, we were tasked with projecting future climate change. We showed what the United States would look like if the world warms by 2 degrees Celsius. It wasn’t a pretty picture: more heat waves, more uncomfortably hot nights, more downpours, more droughts. If greenhouse emissions continue to rise, we could reach that point in the next couple of decades. If they fall a little, maybe we can stave it off until the middle of the century. But our findings also offered a glimmer of hope: If emissions fall dramatically, as the report suggested they could, we may never reach 2 degrees Celsius at all.

For the first time in my career, I felt something strange: optimism.

And that simple realization was enough to convince me that releasing yet another climate report was worthwhile.

Something has changed in the United States, and not just the climate. State, local and tribal governments all around the country have begun to take action. Some politicians now actually campaign on climate change, instead of ignoring or lying about it. Congress passed federal climate legislation — something I’d long regarded as impossible — in 2022 as we turned in the first draft.

[Note: She's talking about the Inflation Reduction Act and the Infrastructure Act, which despite the names were the two biggest climate packages passed in US history. And their passage in mid 2022 was a big turning point: that's when, for the first time in decades, a lot of scientists started looking at the numbers - esp the ones that would come from the IRA's funding - and said "Wait, holy shit, we have an actual chance."]

And while the report stresses the urgency of limiting warming to prevent terrible risks, it has a new message, too: We can do this. We now know how to make the dramatic emissions cuts we’d need to limit warming, and it’s very possible to do this in a way that’s sustainable, healthy and fair.

The conversation has moved on, and the role of scientists has changed. We’re not just warning of danger anymore. We’re showing the way to safety.

I was wrong about those previous reports: They did matter, after all. While climate scientists were warning the world of disaster, a small army of scientists, engineers, policymakers and others were getting to work. These first responders have helped move us toward our climate goals. Our warnings did their job.

To limit global warming, we need many more people to get on board... We need to reach those who haven’t yet been moved by our warnings. I’m not talking about the fossil fuel industry here; nor do I particularly care about winning over the small but noisy group of committed climate deniers. But I believe we can reach the many people whose eyes glaze over when they hear yet another dire warning or see another report like the one we just published.

The reason is that now, we have a better story to tell. The evidence is clear: Responding to climate change will not only create a better world for our children and grandchildren, but it will also make the world better for us right now.

Eliminating the sources of greenhouse gas emissions will make our air and water cleaner, our economy stronger and our quality of life better. It could save hundreds of thousands or even millions of lives across the country through air quality benefits alone. Using land more wisely can both limit climate change and protect biodiversity. Climate change most strongly affects communities that get a raw deal in our society: people with low incomes, people of color, children and the elderly. And climate action can be an opportunity to redress legacies of racism, neglect and injustice.

I could still tell you scary stories about a future ravaged by climate change, and they’d be true, at least on the trajectory we’re currently on. But it’s also true that we have a once-in-human-history chance not only to prevent the worst effects but also to make the world better right now. It would be a shame to squander this opportunity. So I don’t just want to talk about the problems anymore. I want to talk about the solutions. Consider this your last warning from me."

-via New York Times. Opinion essay by leading climate scientist Kate Marvel. November 18, 2023.

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qqueenofhades · 2 months

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I really really REALLY need to see more people makimg the connection between trump and his russian handlers tbh.......like i know we've somehow gone through the looking glass of putin apologia but that piece abt the NYT you just posted, the bots, the interference: in the bag for trump? Yes. But i dont believe its due to his or even republican power or popularity or forcefulness.......this is a man with so much debt and kompromat thats only getting worse!! Not to sound kwazy BUT WE ARE BEING FULLY INFLITRATED and at the risk of conspiracizing i think the russians are ALSO behind the Times's demise along with so many other information centers etc. Like i KNOW these leftists love him but like. Wouldnt they care a LITTLE abt being manipulated like this???

Trump is 100% an active, willing, and eager Russian agent. That's not even paranoid conspiracy theory, that's just the only reasonable interpretation of the facts:

NOT TO MENTION that in the next two years after the Helsinki conference where Trump kowtowed to Putin in every way, the CIA admitted to losing huge and unusually high numbers of classified informants around the world (not CIA agents, but people secretly working for the American government in often-hostile countries):

Once again, this all happened when Trump was in office, when he was actively handing over CIA intel to the Kremlin against the wishes of the entire national security establishment, and which other experts have suggested was directly as a result of Trump handing over the identities of American informants to Russia, including those stationed in Russia itself:

Now, I could go on, but you get the point. Not to mention that Trump just lost a major UK-based lawsuit against Christopher Steele, the former MI6 agent who was the first to provide documents linking Trump to Russia in the controversial "Steele dossier":

And now: Trump is deeply in hock for hundreds of millions in legal fees and punitive judgments that are only increasing by the day, he somehow just came up with $90 million to appeal the judgment against E. Jean Carroll (nobody knows where he got this money either), and Russian state TV spends all their time openly salivating for Trump's return to the presidency (so he can hand over Ukraine and the rest of NATO and, as he literally said, "let Russia do whatever the hell they want.") I know we're largely numb to all the awful treasonous shit that Trump does, but like. This isn't a conspiracy theory, this is just what's going on in plain sight, and while the Online Leftists have recently become so stupid that I honestly can't tell if it's just terminal brainworms or active Russian psyops, it's strongly indicated that it is in fact a mix of both:

So, like. Just some food for thought.

#anonymous #ask #politics for ts #the giant orange monster

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heartss4val · 4 months

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hellooo! i was just binge reading all your works and immediately followed, and saw that you were taking requests soo i wanted to request a lil something!

it’s a percy x f!reader where they stay up late to wait for christmas together! scenario could preferably be on top of their apartment rooftop or smth, but i wouldn’t mind any other choices you’d like! thank youuu, once again i love your workkkk <3

𐑺 ˖ ࣪ ࿐ྂ MEET ME AT THE ROOFTOP | percy jackson x gn!reader [wc: 924] thank u anon for ur kind words, ur the sweetest!!

you had a couple ideas of where you'd be on christmas eve. tucked under the covers of the bed you and percy were sharing while you were over for the holidays, wrapping up last-minute presents, staying up late due to the surge of adrenaline, maybe?

you were pretty wrong about all of those.

"'just hope this year isn't as hectic as last," percy's voice cuts through your thoughts as he tosses rocks off the rooftop of the apartment complex, trying to hit a nearby tree.

you nod absently, hands fiddling with the red and green macaroni necklace that estelle had thrust into your hands the moment you stepped foot into the jackson household. the frigid wind bites at your skin, but you don't complain. percy, however, smushes your face into his shoulder, covering the remaining exposed part of your cheek with his hand.

as you nuzzle further into his warmth, percy glances at the blue, glowing watch that he'd picked up from a cornerstore years ago. it was old and looked like it had been through a war, but it still worked. "only three more minutes," he murmurs, holding up his wrist so you could see the neon blue numbers reading '11:57'. against the blackness of the night, the color was almost garish, but it was softened by the warm glow of christmas lights that adorned percy's neighborhood.

you smile, your lips dry and cracked from the cold. percy had brought you up here solely to be the first to give you your gift on christmas day. he and estelle had a running competition, and he couldn't present it to you in the house without her popping up from seemingly nowhere. the rooftop was the only place of privacy. it was technically cheating, but estelle had won for the past two years and percy was petty. the small gift box next to the boy didn't go unnoticed by you.

"you wanna try?" percy asks, handing you the rock he'd been about to throw. he still hasn't hit his target. you muttered a quiet 'yeah,' took a deep breath, and hurled the rock off the roof.

it hit the tree square on.

percy looked genuinely flabbergasted. mind-boggled, if you will. "you're sick," he says at last. "why would you do this to me?"

"you can defeat the god of war at the age of twelve but you can't hit a tree that's like, thirty feet away?" you retort, breath visible in the frigid air.

"take that back!" percy laughs, his knit beanie tumbling off his head as he tackles you to the rooftop ground, holding your face in his hands.

percy could be intimidating when he wanted to be, but up here, with a smile lighting up his face and his eyes sparkling with mischief, he was anything but.

"i'm gonna make you sorry," he warns.

"sorry for what?" you quip, breathless from the effort of holding him off when he wants to reach you this badly. "that all those years of sword training couldn't build up your muscles enough to hit a tree that close to you?"

he ignored your taunt, his fingers squeezing yours as he ducks down into your space. you laugh, squirming away, pushing your hand (with his still twined into it) against his face.

"you suck at this," you tease. "and you won't win!"

"oh, yeah?" he says, his smile wide and gleaming. two of his teeth are a little sharp at the corners, reminding you of a shark. fitting.

percy's lips part, ready to speak, but just then the alarm on his watch, the old and crusty one that he showed you earlier, went off, the sound piercing through the quiet night air. you glanced at the time.

midnight exactly.

percy releases you, thankfully. your arms were starting to strain. you lied about the muscle thing, he was pretty strong.

"c'mere," he says, picking up the box that he wrapped, the paper crinkling in the spots where his fingers were touching it. you sit next to him, feet dangling off the rooftop. he puts the box in your hands and you eagerly tear off the wrapping paper.

inside was a stunning multi-colored bracelet, with multiple chains and twists and turns that caught the light. you looked up at percy, who was already watching you. "i've been saving up," he says, his eyes downcast. "what do you think?"

you had to take a moment before responding. "i love it perce, really." you slipped the bracelet onto your wrist, admiring the way it glinted in the christmas lights. he even got it in your favorite color. "thank you."

he let out a sigh of relief, pulling up the sleeve of his jacket to reveal a matching bracelet on his own wrist, but in blue. "good," he breathes, a small smile playing at his lips. "'cause if you didn't, then you'd have to see it everytime i held your hand, anyway."

you gape at him, then grin. you like the idea of having a piece of him with you, even when he was away. you reached up to cup his face and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "was this just an excuse for you to buy yourself a cool bracelet?" you tease.

percy shook his head, his smile growing. he leaned in to press a kiss to your temple, then took your hand in his, holding it up to the sky. the christmas lights around you seemed to glow brighter, illuminating the two of you. "one for me, one for you," he says, his voice low and warm.

#percy jackson x reader #percy jackson #percy jackson x you #heroes of olympus #percy jackson x y/n #heroes of olympus x reader #hoo #hoo x reader #pjo x reader #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo #x reader #percy jackson imagine #percy jackson x yn #percy jackson fluff #pjo imagine #riordanverse x reader

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headspace-hotel · 2 years

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Oh, God, it's so important to learn to NOTICE though. When I first started learning about plants I realized that the real world—the REAL real world, and that's what I'm getting at here really, the natural world is so much more REAL, because human made environments are like...very dim, simplified simulations—is boggling to the mind in its sheer level of detail.

It feels like there's so much happening on the screen when you look at the internet, so much visual chaos in the form of ads and sidebars and videos that play automatically, but, God, just look at some dirt. Look at a regular patch of grass and weeds and look at how much there is going on.

How many species of plant are in a weedy, overgrown lawn? Whatever number you guess, it's too low, because you haven't learned to see. You can only see big and obvious shapes and colors. But I realized I was trapped in this...almost toddler-like simplification in my perception, and I realized that the more I cracked my brain open trying to identify plants and trees, the more I could zoom in on the parts of nature that had once seemed like the finest level of detail and see higher and more intricate tiers of complexity.

To almost everyone, grass looks like just grass. Do you know how many kinds of grass there are? Do you know how many I've found in my own yard? There are at least 15 different grass and sedge species in our yard. And I have no idea how they all looked like just grass to me before. There are dozens and dozens of species of plants and wildflowers in our "lawn."

And there are trees! Tiny saplings, the children of great and mighty trees, constantly sprouting in lawns and roadsides and ditches, unable to know that they are destined to be unnoticed and cursorily mowed down.

Today I saw a tiny oak tree, maybe six inches tall, poking from the grass in a green, well-maintained lawn, and I felt so much grief, because that little tree is never going to grow up to be a towering giant, because—why? Because of the kind of world ours is. Not because we don't want to live in a world of towering trees, but because we've genuinely and through no malice or transgression of our own become unable to see and recognize those trees as tiny seedlings. Every patch of grass is the same as every other patch of grass to us.

And, because of the kind of world ours is, it doesn't really occur to us that there would be trees in our back yards if we looked. Trees? For free? Nothing in this world is free. Trees are forty-two dollars apiece, at the garden center at Lowe's. Trees are an asset to highlight when you are selling your house. 1.2 acres, fruit trees on property! 1.4 acres, mature trees!

Anything that begins to grow in your lawn unprompted, without your permission, is a "weed," automatically in our minds, because...it doesn't make sense. Beautiful flowers and sweet, edible fruits happen because of hard work, fertilizer, landscape fabric, weeding, watering, soil testing kits, hundreds spent on potted perennials. We all know that. Nothing generous or beautiful ever just happens to us, so every little stranger that germinates in our lawns is a "weed," threatening to take away what little we do have.

And yet. And yet blackberries are ripening in the shaded thicket out behind my house. And yet wild chicory and dandelions are blooming in the tall grass to the brush pile. I show my family a picture of what the purple passion flowers will look like when they bloom, and it's like it's hard for them to believe—that's native to here? they just grow wild?

They do. They do. And so do majestic oak and sycamore trees, elm and tulip poplar. The seeds of trees that may outlive us by hundreds of years have germinated in our lawns and sidewalks and drainage ditches. This place was a forest once, and in all its little edges and corners it is always starting to become a forest again.

I think we HAVE to see this. I think every single person needs to break their brain with 25 hours of trying to identify plants using Wikipedia, Google, and pure confusing-sedge-induced rage until they get their third eye blown wide the fuck open.

People need to see this happening with their own eyes, the Happening that is always happening in nature, the activity and life always flourishing and living in every square millimeter of every yard and walkway and roadside, how absolutely absolutely bursting with species even a crack in the pavement on the side of the road is, how mind-numbingly simplified and static our concept of the natural world around us is next to the real thing.

There are so many kinds of lightning bugs. Did y'all know that? I'm seeing them now. There are many different species, with different colors and markings, and I'm noticing them chilling in the foliage around me in the daytime. I'm listening to the songs of birds and learning to recognize them, and there are so many more birds around me than I really realized.

I heard the call of a bird today that I did not recognize. Why didn't it register in my mind before that birdsongs I couldn't recognize were gaps in my knowledge?

Why doesn't it feel essential, immediate and necessary to seek knowledge about the other living things in our immediate surroundings? To at least know their names?

If I don't know my neighbor's name after living next to them for ten years, I haven't done anything to be their neighbor; they're just a stranger that lives near me. Are the trees and birds around me not my neighbors too? People will look up the name of an actor they've recognized before in a show, the name of a song they heard. Why are grasses and trees so far outside of what immediately seems relevant to us? What has our world done to our curiosity? To our sense of belonging in a world that is fundamentally interconnected and generous and alive?

Out there, on a pristine green lawn, a tiny seedling of an oak tree sprouts, barely six inches high. I saw it earlier on my walk, and I felt so sad. I'm sorry that we cut down a forest and turned it into this place. That's what I thought. But something changed in my mind as I thought it.

I realized that a forest was not a thing but a process, and not a process either in the sense that there's a beginning and an end result, but in the sense of things happening and being connected to other things, and I understood that the immensity of this thing far transcended what the word "forest" denotes.

A baby oak tree growing with nobody's permission on a flat green lawn belongs to this thing, "forest," just as much as a massive hundreds-of-years-old oak tree in the depths of the woods belongs to "forest," because a forest is growth, survival, persistence, the fight of a place that once was a forest to become forest again

I'm sorry I said to the tree you cannot kill me in a way that matters said the tree in reply, and I saw my own insignificance next to the indifference of the universe, and it was so infinitely gentle and merciful

#gardening #my writing #trees #i'm feeling a way about nature #this place never stopped being a forest #because the processes that make a forest a forest never stopped #you cannot kill me in a way that matters

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amomentsescape · 7 months

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Hi! I love your stuff, especially for the slashers. Wanted to ask for them (the slashers, specifically including michael, bubba, jason and stu) with a reader who wants to join them in killing/wants to try it with them? Out of curiosity or wanting to help them or some morbid desire, the reasons up to you. If you end up doing this then thank you! <3

Slashers with Reader Who Wants to Kill with Them

A/N: Thank you so much! I’ve included the specific Slashers you requested. But I wasn’t sure if you were asking for just them or if you wanted all of them. If you’d like to see the others, feel free to pop in my inbox again, and I’ll make a part II! :)

Michael Myers

Michael was drawn to you for a reason

There had always been a bit of darkness brewing in you, so being with a serial killer only brought that out more

When you brought up the idea of you joining along, Michael was unsure at first

He felt that you may be too fragile to risk the danger

Although terrible at showing it, he didn't want you to end up dead

But when you kept insisting, he finally gave in

You were just forced to not leave his sight the entire time

He doesn't like you getting to the target first

He'll let you finish the job (sometimes), but he wants to be the one to knock them down

He would also want you to use a knife during the killings

Anything loud would be an immediate no

When he realizes that you may like killing as much as he does, this soon becomes a regular thing for you both

It's as romantic as Michael will ever get

He teaches you different areas on the body to target

Shows you shortcuts along the paths so you can always get to your target

But he'll be there to help you out if things go south, of course

Just don't expect him to share all of this secrets

He enjoys having that advantage over you

If you get badly injured though, it's game over

Jason Voorhees

He's pretty iffy about this at first too

His mother is the main driving force behind his crimes, so although he doesn't mind killing, it's not pure passion that drives him

So when you shared that you were interested in doing what he does, he felt a little confused

Your safety is his number one priority, so he would be pretty adamant to not let you do it at first

However, if you put your foot down, he'll give in

Will give you your very own weapon (something quiet) and teach you how to use it

Would probably bring home some random victim for you to try to kill the first time around

He wants to make sure you really want to do this (and being at home meant you were safer)

If you tell him that you truly enjoy it, then he'll take you out with him

But don't leave his sight

He'll become very pouty if you run off

He's very sweet to you after everything either way though, carefully using warm water to wipe off the sweat and blood from your face

Bubba Sawyer

The hardest one to convince out of these

You just wanted to help him and his family out, but he continuously refused

Bubba doesn't even really kill for enjoyment

He does it because it's how his family survives (or so he's been told)

So you wanting to join is mind boggling to him

It's way too dangerous anyways

But he is quite a softie for you so if it's really important, he'll eventually give in

Always has to be there and helping you though

He won't let you do anything on your own

Will give you a run down of the land and help you memorize the layout

Sounds of joy whenever you kill someone yourself

He's very sweet with cleaning you off after too

But if he sees even one scratch or bruise, he will not let you outside for a long time

You basically have to repeat the begging and reasoning with him all over again before he considers letting you help him after that

Stu Macher

Hell yeah

Stu is all over this and is basically over the moon

Killing wasn't exactly in your things to do, but the more you watched Stu come home with a high, the more you wanted to try it out

He starts rambling about what your outfit should be, where to get the best knife, who would make the best target, etc.

Wouldn't let you do any killings on your own at first

He has to make sure that he is just a few steps away so that he can help you if things don't go as planned

Seeing you in blood is an immediate turn on

He will definitely make out with you over the dead bodies

Constant praises over what you did right and how hot you looked doing it

Raiding the victims' pantries and eating their food after everything

He especially loves to shower with you at the end of the night and hold you close

All of this gets to the point where he doesn't even want to go on a killing spree unless you're there by his side

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merakiui · 5 months

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thinking about androids again, but rather than the plot seen in android jade,,,, consider android floyd who is being developed by tech genius idia shroud with input and funding from business magnate azul ashengrotto.

(cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, obsession, vaguely implied non-con/dub-con, android floyd)

He's designed to be a companion for those who are lonely and in need of the company (whether physically or socially). You're just a tired, overworked university student, so it's mind-boggling to you when there's a sleek limousine parked just beyond campus property. Security guards are insisting you come with them because there's someone who'd like to meet you.

In the limo, you find yourself sitting across from Azul Ashengrotto himself. He doesn't bother with flowery introductions, instead cutting to the heart of the matter. You've been randomly selected to help with a very important phase of his and Idia's project. The general idea is to test how well the android interacts with a normal, ordinary person in a monitored setting.

You're very confused. You never signed up for any lottery, and you certainly aren't affiliated with anything of that sort. You're just trying to get through your degree, survive two part-times, and hopefully make enough to keep afloat for another month. Azul tells you this isn't an issue; you'll be generously compensated for your time and efforts. It's only three months; you'll be permitted to live your life as you normally would, only now you'll be accompanied by a highly intelligent android.

Despite hearing all of this, you hesitate when he reveals the lengthy contract. As you flip through it, analyzing each clause and category, Azul says something that piques your interest. "We don't expect you to house an android in your little apartment. Goodness, that's simply ludicrous. We'll provide your housing for these next three months. After all, we must be able to monitor your progress."

"Housing? What do you mean?"

He smiles at you. Backdropped by leather interior, the lights casting odd shadows on his face, he looks near-sinister. But he leans forward to press a ballpoint pen into your hands and the illusion vanishes. "I think you'll find it quite to your liking. If you've finished your classes for the day, why not visit the property with me? Then you may decide whether you wish to participate."

You're not worried about that part. What worries you the most, however, is the fact that he's right. You are finished with classes for the day and you have nothing planned. You took today off from work. Your schedule is perfectly free.

But of course the Azul Ashengrotto wouldn't know that, would he?

The house is a smart home, equipped with every necessity and appliance. Everything's controlled by a remote here. It's not very far from your university either, built on a hill that overlooks houses below. It feels a little isolating and smells very new and clean. Like that fabled new car smell, only it's a house. But everything is so unique to you. Its minimalistic design is oddly cozy, and you can't help but feel enchanted the deeper you venture through the two-story home. It's all so unreal!

Azul gives you the rundown, explains how the remote and each button works. You can lock doors, open and close windows, mess with the thermostat, turn the home security on and off, and even start the oven. You hold the power to this home in the palm of your hands. It's immensely fascinating.

By the end of the tour, you're shaking his hand and signing his contract, agreeing to three months of study. Not only are you provided this nice home, you'll also be paid per week. And the pay is far more than you were making with your two jobs.

The android has a long, tongue-tying serial number, so to make things easier he's named Floyd. They even gave him a surname in preparation for the twin android who is being designed to complement and mirror him. He certainly looks human when you meet him, but there's this uncanny nature to his presence that slightly unnerves you. He's too perfect. Skin too smooth. Eyes too bright. Hair too soft. He towers over you, having to bend down to walk through the doorframe, and every movement he makes is very mechanical and stiff.

Still, you smile at him and offer your hand. "Hi there. I'm (Name). Your...housemate, I guess."

He nods, peering down at your hand before lifting his own. "Floyd Leech. At your service."

You were expecting to feel coldness, so you startle when his hand fits into yours and it's warm. It feels so very real. So deceptively lifelike. You wonder if he can regulate his own internal temperatures. Just how advanced is he?

"Right... Um, I look forward to getting to know you!"

He nods again, releasing your hand after a perfectly timed handshake.

Azul had given you a special number should you need to reach him or Idia. All you needed to do was phone it if at any point you were to feel confused or unsafe. "But I don't think you'll utilize it," he told you when you stood in the lab, watching Idia Shroud flit around to do final maintenance checks to ensure Floyd was ready for his first trial run. His eyes were open the entire time, two mismatched lights centered on you. His stare was listless, but somehow you felt as if he was looking through to your very soul. "He's very safe. In fact, he's programmed to assess and react appropriately to dangers of all kinds. You'll be safe with him around."

And safe you are.

You've always been alone, so it's nice to have a roommate, even if he only speaks when spoken to. It's awkward for all of one week until you ease into his pattern. From various vantage points throughout the house, Idia and Azul watch through hidden cameras. You cook your meals for yourself and Floyd watches, assisting when you order him to. You leave for class and Floyd waits by the door for you to return, standing stock-still for hours.

You lounge in the sitting room and put on all kinds of films. Action. Comedy. Horror. Floyd's eyes never leave the screen. But sometimes he watches you more than he watches the movie, noting all of your reactions. He doesn't understand why you get so emotional over sappy romances. So you explain it simply: "It evokes emotions. We all have emotions, and these movies make us feel them. Happy. Sad. Angry. Upset. Things like that."

But Floyd doesn't feel. Even so, he listens and he nods along, filing your answers away for later dissection. It's interesting.

By the end of the first month, Floyd's adopted new habits. Ever since you told him he's free to do as he pleases, he's taken to cooking your meals for you, doing your laundry, preparing your bag for the day. He's surprisingly good at it. He does chores when you leave for classes or work. And for the first time in a while you're excited to return home, knowing he's there waiting.

Floyd adds new words and phrases to his ever-expanding vocabulary. You watch a lot of TV together and he starts to use some of what he hears in his own speech. He picks up informal language quickly, and it isn't long until he's using words like sup or dunno instead of the rigid how are you? and I am unsure he was previously programmed with.

The first sign of unrest comes when you realize Floyd's also connected to the smart home. At first you didn't think it was a bad thing. After all, with him controlling it you won't have to worry about getting up to grab the remote if you've already sat down. Floyd can do that for you. But then the remote goes missing, later turning up shattered. You ask Floyd what happened and he looks at you and says, "Why use this piece of junk when you've got me?"

"Still... What if you're not able to help? What if you're in sleep mode and I need to open a window or something?" you argue, cradling the splinters of remote like they're an injured baby bird.

"That won't happen," he replies smoothly, issuing you a soothing smile. "I'm always gonna be here for ya. Count on it."

And you do because, by the time the three months are nearing their end and Floyd's developed into quite the companion, more and more human than he's ever seemed, you find yourself stuck.

No, not stuck. That's not quite right. You're more so trapped.

Floyd locks the doors, shutters the windows, turns off the lights. You're cowering in the closet, the only place that feels just a little safe in this moment. You can't reach Azul or Idia either. He's shut the power off, the internet connection, everything. The smart home on the hilltop feels like a tiny island now, and Floyd's the shark always circling it, waiting for you to dip your feet into the depths.

"C'mon, Shrimpy," he calls out, and it's a nickname you were once so fond of because he thought of it himself. "I already told ya I ain't gonna hurt ya. So just come out and talk to me."

You have no idea where you went wrong. Was it too many horror films? Was it the fact that you started to rely so heavily on him for companionship, ignoring your human friends in favor of staying in with Floyd? Or was it because he was blocking their numbers that you never received any messages and automatically assumed they were cutting contact? He said he'd always be here for you, so why to this degree?

The closet doors are thrown open. Floyd drags you, kicking and screaming, out by the ankles. Every camera has gone dark on Azul and Idia's end. All but one. The one in the bedroom. Floyd stares directly at it when he lifts you up and lays you on the bed, gentle and sugary-sweet.

He smiles and waves before that screen blanks out, leaving you truly trapped with him.

And because it's all experimental, morbid curiosity trumping ethical morals, no one comes to rescue you.

Three months is more of an indefinite forever in this lonesome smart home.

#meraki mumbles #yandere twst

314 notes · View notes

loliwrites · 6 months

Text

The One You Need | two

🎶 I spent most my life thinkin' love was out of reach, so maybe just this once, you could be the one I need, if you let me be the one you need 🎶

pairing: neighbor!joel miller x f!reader rating: explicit, 18+ minors dni summary: when you move into town hellbent on keeping everyone at an arm’s length, your neighbor Joel finds his way into your life. warnings/tags: au, neighbor joel, age gap [reader is late 20s/early 30s, Joel is late 40s], hyper-independent reader, a bit of a misandrist mindset, past relationships, men vs boys, sexual tension, dubcon [tagging to be safe] [slight alcohol consumption but neither is drunk], verbal consent received, reader described as female, no other physical description, protective!joel, soft!joel, dare i say ei!joel, no use of y/n. word count: 6.1k part one | joel miller masterlist a/n: i’ve done my best to tag as thoroughly as possible, but if you think i’ve missed something, let me know. & tagging @hausofobsession because charlie's the best

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It had been three and a half weeks since move in day and a few things had become abundantly clear about your new surroundings.

1. Having your own place rocked. You did what you wanted. You answered to no one. If you wanted to have a one person dance party at two in the morning, you did. No downstairs neighbors hollered and banged on their ceiling – your floor. You could paint the walls whatever color you wanted and tear up the flooring if you had the impulse to. Nothing ever again had to be “renter friendly” .

2. Having your own place was a lot of work. There were any number of things that seemed to break, leak, or hang crooked on any given day and instead of ringing up a landlord and complaining, you could only complain to yourself… And then figure out how to fix the broken, leaky, or wonky thing. And it boggled your mind how dust and grime seemed to manifest out of nothingness. Rooms you don’t even remember stepping foot into had somehow acquired a thin film of dust. You were constantly cleaning something or fixing something, and in the most unfortunate of times, your cleaning of something resulted in you also needing to fix it. If anything, owning a home had reinforced to you that you were indeed the man in your life.

3. Joel Miller was practically the mayor of the neighborhood. Everyone knew him. It was impossible to spend any amount of time in the yard and not be bombarded with Joel Miller, Joel Miller, Joel Miller. While he wasn’t particularly outgoing, he seemed to be there when someone needed help. Whether it was Mrs. Cole with her grocery bags or the young, single mother next door to him who needed someone to put her son’s basketball hoop together. He was an everyman. And though he had helped you in a big way on your first day as part of the neighborhood, you’d spent the past few weeks dodging him as much as possible.

4. And lastly, you needed his help again. At some point during the week, a foul odor had wafted through the entirety of your home. And short of thinking an animal had crawled up and died within the walls, you began scouring the house with as much disinfectant as your sense of smell would allow. Every inch of every room was scrubbed down, and when that still didn’t get rid of the odor, you figured it was time to call an exterminator. Dehydrated, hungry, and about to snap, you opened the refrigerator and was punched in the face by warm, smelly air that burned your nose more than the disinfectant. Ah, the source.

How long the fridge hadn’t been working, you didn’t know. What you did know was that all the perishables – namely the dairy products – had certainly perished. And after three hours on the phone with a local handyman you’d found online, his ultimate advice was, “get a new refrigerator”. On a normal day, that was easily said and done. You would’ve ordered one the same day and gotten it delivered the next. Only, you’d spent the week prior throwing an obscene amount of money at new furniture to fill the oodles and oodles of empty space you now found yourself inhabiting.

You had genuinely thought about asking Joel for help that same day. At least to get the fridge out of the house because you were sure the smell wouldn’t leave until the entire appliance did. But when you looked out your window, his truck wasn’t in his driveway. And it didn’t arrive back until late that night. There was no way you were going to burden him so late, so you cracked some windows and told yourself you’d ask him in the morning. But the next morning when you Houdini’d yourself out of bed and made a pot of coffee, his truck was already out of the driveway again. An hour and a half later of throwing everything out and deep cleaning it, the fridge didn’t nearly smell as bad. And after a while, you kind of just let it be.

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Saturday. A day of rest. Except you were standing on Joel’s porch, curling your hand into a fist to rap your knuckles against his door, about to ask him to do a little work. A shred of guilt was growing inside of you. Yes, he had said to reach out if you needed something. He’d been nothing but neighborly. But you knew what you were doing. The thing where you use a boy for your gain but have nothing to offer in return.

Joel opened his front door, breathing a little heavier than normal with a sheen of sweat over his face and down his neck. He appeared to be completely clothed, but whether or not you’d caught him in a state of undress and he threw this on, you had no idea. From what you’d observed by peeking out your front window, the single mother that lived next door to him seemed to have a little bit of a crush. Perhaps that crush was reciprocated on his end.

“Sorry, am I interrupting something?” You squinted your eyes shut and partially shielded them with your hand.

“What?” He looked down at himself, tugging on his shirt, “no, I just got in from doing yard work out back.” Joel took a deep breath and slowly let it exhale. He remembered when he could be working hard all day and not even feel it. Now there were days when he went up the stairs in his house and got winded. “How ya’ doin?”

“Good, I… I need your help again,”

Joel grinned, something cheeky that you wanted to slap right off his face.

“Don’t look too excited about it. My fridge is on the fritz and it’s too heavy for me to move,”

There was a part of him that wanted to bring to attention that this was the second time in less than a month that you were coming to him for help. Ultimately he thought better of it. The hard line of your lips and narrowness of your eyes clued him in that you were waiting to rebuke anything he might say. Instead he disappeared from the doorway, leaving you utterly confused, only to return a minute later with an old metal toolbox in hand. He stepped out onto the porch and pulled the door shut behind him.

“No, it’s not getting fixed. I’m getting a new one,”

He quirked his eyebrows and looked down at you, “that fridge is only three years old.” He stepped off his porch and started toward your house.

You took a few quick steps to catch up with him, falling in line and then keeping up that pace to stay even with him. It did look like a fairly modern make. “How do you know that?”

“‘Cause I helped Mrs. Wilson get it in her house three years ago. I’d told her to get that fridge because I knew it’d last. Now unless you or Mrs. Wilson did something on it that it’s not meant for, it should still be perfectly fine.”

“What’re you implying?”

Joel shot a wink in your direction, “you have any male suitors over lately? Get a little frisky in the kitchen over dinner?”

Your jaw dropped as you followed Joel up your porch steps. “No! You can see my house from your house. You know I haven’t had anyone over,”

“I don’t spy on my neighbors.” He walked through your door after you’d opened it for him, “are you spyin’ on me?”

“No, I’m not,” you protested, leading him into the kitchen and directing him toward the problem appliance. “But I do know that next-door neighbor of yours, fancies you,”

“Fancies me?”

“Mhm. She twirls her hair every time she talks to you,”

Joel set the toolbox down on the counter and angled his body at the fridge, “does she now?” He wrapped his arms around it, fingers gripping to the sides, and began to shimmy the entire thing out from its little cubbyhole.

The whole display was rather impressive. Despite actively not yearning or searching for a relationship, acts of masculinity did get you going. It was the double-edged sword that lived inside you. Boys – can’t live with them; can’t live without them. Just because you couldn’t rely on men, didn’t mean the desire to sleep with them wasn’t there. But even you knew, that under no circumstances, were you to sleep or have any sort of sexual contact with Joel Miller. Even if he was a rugged display of masculinity. With sinewy muscles that strained beneath his skin when he flexed them. And fingers that surely knew how to wrap around more than just the handle end of a hammer. He was your neighbor. You weren’t going to shit where you ate. But by God if he didn’t look like a delicious meal.

It’s the reason you picked up so quickly on the tell-tale signs of attraction by Little Miss Next Door Neighbor. She was looking at him the way all women did when they wanted to be swept up by a man. They wanted to be handled, and led, and submissive. Something you could never be. To a man? Absolutely not.

This argument you were having with no one but yourself was interrupted when Joel called your name with a tone that indicated to you it wasn’t the first or second time he was calling it. You blinked and focused your eyes, finding he was only partially visible – most of him being shrouded by the fridge that he now stood behind.

“S’not working because it’s dirty. Do you have a handheld vacuum?”

Approaching him, you contorted your body around it to sneak a peek at what he was looking at. “It stopped working because it’s dirty?”

“Could be somethin’ faulty inside, but the condenser coils and gasket seals are a mess. My guess is it’s just that,”

“I called some handyman and he told me I needed a brand new fridge,”

Joel peeked his head out to look at you, “why you callin’ some random handyman when you got one ‘cross the street?”

You crossed your arms over your chest, “I was going to but you worked weird hours this week and were never home when I looked out my window.”

“So you are spying on me,” he chuckled. “That’s why you’re jealous of Kelly,”

“Who’s jealous?!” It wasn’t lost on you that your voice rose about an octave or two higher than your normal register. You were sure Joel clocked that, too. “I’m just making sure you know she’s got a big ol’ schoolgirl crush on you,”

“She doesn’t ‘cause we’ve gone out before and it wasn’t a match.”

“Does she know that?”

“I’d say she does,”

You smirked, having a little fun poking the bear. “How do you know?”

“Because when a woman gets naked and propositions a man for sex, and he says no, it’s usually a pretty definitive sign.”

“Yeah, right,” you laughed incredulously, “no man looks at a woman who’s ready to fuck and says no to her.”

“This man does,” he looked you dead in the eyes and held your gaze. “You got a vacuum?”

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The resoluteness of Joel’s answer had honestly come as a shock. It was something you knew you’d want to circle back on at some point simply because of how insane it seemed. A straight guy turning down sex from a woman? He had to have been the first man in history to do so. The thought kept you busy while your refrigerator kept him busy. Coincidentally, you both became significantly less busy around the same time.

“It works again?”

Joel plugged the fridge back into the wall and stepped out from behind it. He wiped his hands in a rag you’d brought out for him, which just happened to be one of your old, white t-shirts. He didn’t seem to care. Or notice. “Gotta give it a few minutes. See if it’s gettin’ cold,'' he looked up at you, noting how you began to get a little more fidgety, looking around. He wasn’t sure why; perhaps just itching to get him out of your house. “You got any food for dinner?”

“Yeah,” you said half-heartedly, thinking about how you were about to endure yet another day of some sad, canned soup. “I can whip up a can of something,”

He shook his head and waved you off, “come by tonight. I’ll fix you a meal,”

“You just fixed my fridge.”

“Maybe,” he smiled.

“I should be cooking you a meal,”

He shook his head vehemently, “I haven’t eaten chicken noodle soup since I was about nine, and I don’t aim to start up again.” He pulled open the fridge door, set his hands on one of the shelves and decided it was slightly colder than it had been just a couple minutes prior. “It should be good to go now,” he loaded up his toolbox and locked it up. “Swing by around seven. If you stand me up, I’m coming back over here and breaking the damn thing,”

“Joel,”

“Seven.”

With that, he was out before you could protest again. Somehow both of you knew you’d be showing up to his house that night. Annoyance bubbled up at your surface with the realization that not only did you know you weren’t going to disobey him, but he knew it too. The few hours between him leaving and you showing back up on his porch for dinner had been spent sulking. Whatever this was becoming – you weren’t sure what just friendship looked like with a boy because no single, unattached boy you’d ever met only wanted friendship – was getting to be too much. There needed to be a line drawn in the sand. You needed to draw the line in the sand. And more importantly, after the line was drawn, you and Joel needed to be securely on opposite sides of it.

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But curse this man and his ability to put ideas in your head. Horrible, awful, domestic ideas. The sorts of ideas that made you think this image of him: on the back porch with a beer in one hand and a pair of tongs in the other, a dish towel slung over his shoulder for quick access, flipping over and inspecting a couple steaks, chewing on his bottom lip as he pondered how close to medium they were getting… was an image you could get used to seeing.

It was how all boys in the past had gotten you.

They wooed you with their little acts here and there of masculinity. Or their wit. Or just cute looks. They made you believe that they were different. That they were honest, and open, and evolved. And you’d get sucked in and follow the white rabbit down the hole. For a while it’d all be good. You would actually believe that you had found an evolved man that you could coexist with and be happy. But after the momentary bliss, you’d come to realize that the wool had been pulled over your eyes. You’d been deceived and lied to. The boy could not manage his own emotions, let alone understand yours. You’d sit in the anger that you betrayed your sense of self to make room for this boy, and only when you’d talked yourself far enough off the ledge, you’d explode like a time bomb. Afterwards, a tiny piece of you would be the only thing left to go around picking up all the other little fragments of yourself. And you’d put yourself back together with tape and a promise that you wouldn’t ever allow another to break you like that again. That is, until another boy found his way to you and made you think he was different. And thus the cycle continued.

“You have family out here?” Joel looked up from the barbecue and took a sip of his beer while he waited for you to answer.

Taking a step forward and buying some time by swigging down a gulp of your beer, you shook your head. “They’re all in California still. Just had to get away. What about you?”

He nodded and closed the grill, “Sarah’s a few hours away at school and her mom’s ‘bout a half hour away. But my brother’s here. I work with him actually,”

“You must be close with him,”

Joel nodded absently.

“But no wife for Joel Miller,” you smiled, half-hidden by your bottle. “I take it no girlfriend either since apparently you don’t like getting laid,”

He laughed. It was the first real, hearty laugh you’d heard from him. It seemed to shake his whole body and he opened the grill back up and plucked the steaks off it, depositing them on an awaiting plate. “I like getting laid. It might be my favorite thing to do,”

“That’s why I think you’re full of shit. Turning down, what’s her name…”

“Kelly…”

“You’re telling me,” you approached Joel slowly, got right up close to him, and dragged a delicate finger over one of his shoulders and down his bicep to prove a point. “A woman… an attractive woman, I’d say… stripped down in front of you, told you to have your way with her, and you said no thanks,”

Joel watched your finger. His tongue poked out of his mouth quickly to lick his lips before he flashed his eyes back to you, obviously finding great pleasure that his gaze in this close proximity made you avert your own eyes downward. “Exactly,”

You half-smiled and shook your head as you took a step back, “bullshit.”

He shut off the grill and scooped the plate up. “Explain to me why you think that’s bullshit,” he meandered past you and pulled his back door open, allowing you the chance to walk in first before he followed you in.

Instinctively, you progressed into the kitchen, where two stools at the counter were awaiting with place settings. You perched in one while Joel set the steaks down by you and continued to the oven where he pulled out a tray of roasted vegetables. “Because you’re a guy,”

“Man,” he corrected and started placing food on your plate.

“A man,” you mocked. When he finished giving you food and moved onto his, “thank you. And men don’t do that. They chase pleasure. They get their dick wet and they move on down the line, leaving a path of destruction in their wake,”

This time, Joel waited to respond until he was seated next to you. He clinked his bottle against yours, “thanks for coming over.”

“To be honest, I was actually afraid you’d blow up my fridge and I can’t really afford a new one right now,”

“But I’m gonna have to disagree with you,” he focused on his plate and cut into his steak. Seemingly pleased with the degree with which it was cooked, he took a first bite. “Men don’t only care, as you so delicately put, about getting their dick wet.”

“Joel, come on, you know…”

“Boys do. For sure. A boy would look at you, a beautiful woman, and see a direct path to his pleasure. Absolutely. And a boy probably wouldn’t care too much about whether or not you were getting as much out of it as he was. ‘Cause he’s getting his, right?”

You nodded, silently pushing a mixture of steak and veggies into your mouth, enraptured with where he was going to take this conversation. And slightly unable to concentrate past the point of having heard him call you beautiful.

“Men don’t do that. A man would look at you and see that yes, you’re a beautiful woman. But he’d also see that you’ve got a helluva brain, and you’re witty, and funny, and more than a little stubborn. He’d see that you hold yourself and everyone else to a high standard, and he’d want to meet it. And when he slept with you, he’d want to make sure you were getting more out of it than he was,”

Awe-struck was the only word to describe how you felt. Was a guy actually verbalizing everything you already believed? That there was a difference between boys and men. And that most guys thought they were men simply because of their age, when you knew age meant nothing in defining a man.

Joel took a deep breath and finished off his beer, “I turned Kelly down because I knew if I slept with her I’d be taking on a lot more than I wanted to with her. And despite whatever your experience with men might be, this one’s not out to leave a path of destruction behind him.”

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What were these complicated feelings inside of you? Someone who prided themselves on being emotionally intelligent and level-headed and yet… you were spinning like a top. On the one hand you wanted to keep everyone a safe arm’s length away, and on the other you wanted Joel to scale the walls you’d constructed and fortified around yourself. For a long time there was an odd sense of accomplishment at how tall and strong you’d managed to build them. Look at how good they were at keeping people out. But now there was someone in front of you that you thought you wanted to let in – only in constructing your walls, you never put in a gate. And that ribbon of apathy, and the moments of enduring loneliness, maybe it was all self-inflicted.

Who knew how to hurt you better than you?

The beer helped dull those thoughts. Finishing off the second as the conversation meandered through Joel’s last relationship. A topic that would’ve given you supreme pause, and yet he recounted it with ease as if he were just a court reporter, tasked with jotting down the facts. He even acknowledged his role in the dissolution of that relationship. His eyes seemed to glaze over and travel to a distant land as he described all the ways he didn’t measure up. How he was never quite what that woman wanted. And how he had no idea how to become what she wanted. On the flip side, he admitted she’d started off as someone that only saw the moon with him. She’d kept some nights from being too cold and lonely. Only when a certain amount of time passed, did she speak up and sort of declare a relationship was there.

That conversation ended when a third bottle was grabbed for each and moved to the living room. Both on the couch, you with your back pressed up against one of the arm’s of it. Your knees bent with feet planted securely on the cushion. And Joel sitting as close as he could with your legs creating a physical boundary between you. Even his thigh covered your toes, as if seeing how close to the boundary he could get. Despite feeling like this was someone you wanted to let through your walls, however temporarily, your brain still managed to cut off any inkling from your heart – using your body as the vehicle to keep everyone at bay.

“Hmm?” Joel hummed and grabbed your attention back to the present. “‘S’not fair leaving me hanging after I just spilled all my gory relationship details. What about yours?”

You shook your head, trying to appear innocent, “there’s not much to say.”

“Say anything,”

Staring at him, you took a deep breath and a generous sip of your new beer. Then feeling on the good side of buzzed, you stretched forward to move for the coffee table. Seeing your plight and the awkwardness of the angle given that you weren’t inclined to lower your legs to make the action smoother, Joel leaned forward, gently took the bottle from your hands and set it on the table for you.

“He was nice at the start. A bit older than me. I thought it meant we’d be on the same wavelength for once, y’know? That he’d outgrown the frat boy, tool bag phase and moved into a more evolved one. It got physical quick and it was… awful.” You glanced down at your hands, remembering for the first time in a while about what sleeping with that guy felt like – a trial run with hari-kari, complete and self-inflicted betrayal.

With your pause and sensing obvious discomfort, Joel reached across his body and got a loose grip on your shin. He gave it a soft squeeze that felt like permission to stop if you were so inclined. But it didn’t hurt like it used to; as if you had been able to remove yourself from the equation and were now just recounting the plot of some terrible film you’d seen once.

Shrugging and with a half-smile he couldn’t place, you looked back up at Joel, “he had a good time.”

“Was it ever good for you?” He mumbled as though he didn’t actually want to hear the answer. And because you hadn’t reacted in any way to his hand on your shin, he took a chance and used that grip to lower your leg across his lap.

“No, but I’m a helluva actress.”

He raised his eyebrows and absently took hold of your other leg and lowered that one across his lap, too. Now the literal barrier you’d put between you had been carefully circumvented. “He never stopped to figure it out?”

You shook your head, “he was getting his, Joel. See, it’s hard to figure out when you’re dealing with a boy. They hide it well,”

Joel reached forward and set his half-empty beer next to yours on the coffee table. When he reclined back to his previous position, his hands migrated to your feet and squeezed them with a familiarity of an old married couple who’d been practicing this dance for decades.

“It ended two and a half years ago, so a distant memory,”

He only nodded. You thought he’d have something about that. Something like what’ve you been doing for two years without a man. But maybe he figured you were doing just fine. Probably better. So he only squeezed your feet again before his hands migrated a little further north to your knees, fingers just barely dipping between your thighs that you’d managed to keep pressed together. Finally he asked:

“No fillers in the meantime?”

It made you laugh. Any number of innuendo could be applied to his question. It was also at this point that you felt your resolve fading. The will to keep him at bay becoming less of a conscious effort. “No fillers. Not really my style,”

“Not a one night stand kinda girl?” He smirked and shot a playful glance at you. There was no chance he was unaware that the press of your thighs together had lessened. Any further action of his hand would’ve resulted in him going wherever he wanted, however he wanted. But he didn’t. His hand remained where it was, gaining no further purchase and adding no extra pressure.

“Would you be if sex was never good for you?”

He chuckled and threw his head back against the couch, “fair enough.” He shook his head, absently staring at the ceiling. Only when he’d gathered his thoughts and words did he shift his gaze back to you. “People are simple creatures,” there was a slight pause and though you opened your mouth to refute that, he continued first. “I mean the biology part. It’s not hard to get a woman off,”

“Okay, hotshot. Let me go get a horn for you to toot a little louder,”

He grinned widely, showing off nearly every tooth in his mouth. The look made you smile as well – like a kid getting caught opening presents before Christmas. “There’s a lot of hard tasks in this world,” he pursed his lips and shrugged, “making a woman come isn’t one of them.”

The heat you’d felt rising in your chest and neck after he’d successfully moved your mattress into your bedroom was returning. Only this time, you felt it settle in your cheeks, and you wondered if he was aware of it. Your eyes were glued to him, wide, trying to pick up on as much visual information they could get. What you found was Joel adding the slightest of pressure between your knees to spread your thighs just enough for him to pivot on the couch and face you squarely.

You swallowed down a lump in your throat, eyes flicking over the sight of him: the way graying curls moved across his forehead, or the way his eyes never left yours. Not even for a second. Not even when he was positioning himself closer to you, kneeling back on his shins with his thighs nudging yours upward at an angle. He smiled softly, a gentle thing that instantly put you at greater ease, and leaned in closer to you, planting his hands on the couch on either side of your chest.

“Can I kiss you?” His focus wandered down to your lips when they parted.

In all your years of life, no one had ever asked that, and it took you aback, scrambling to make sense of the English you believed you were fluent in. But you nodded quickly and assumed that would’ve been the green light. Probably would’ve for most people, but as you were coming to learn, Joel wasn’t quite like most people.

He smiled and bowed his head, taking a breath to gather himself. In the meantime, his hair was close to your nose and the muskiness of his scent was everything you thought and wanted it to be. He raised his head and looked at you again, his eyes practically pleading. “Can we make that verbal?”

“Yes,” you exhaled. But when it didn’t result in his lips meeting yours with haste, you tried again. “Kiss me,”

Like a fire ignited under him, Joel closed the rest of the gap between you. Hands drifting to your cheeks, he cupped your head with the most practiced of ease and pressed his mouth to yours, first with closed lips to test the waters before the next action was the parting of his lips on yours. His tongue searched for entrance into your mouth, finding it when a soft breath was exhaled.

While trying not to talk yourself out of this moment, you also tried to think about the last time you’d been kissed like this. Or kissed at all, period. But like this, with want, and desire, and passion. Like all of Joel was made for this exact moment: to kiss you with the intention of every fiber of his being; to make your brain go foggy and blur out everything that did not add to this need. It was as if he could sense you slipping away from him, focused elsewhere instead of letting yourself buy into this, and he recaptured you with a soft bite to your lower lip. He re-positioned his hands; one at the side of your neck and jaw, and the other gripping onto your hip, adjusting you further until your ass was pressed up against his crotch.

He forced himself to pull back, slight enough to be able to speak but still close enough to press his forehead against yours. “Stay with me. Don’t go somewhere else,”

Your instinct was to protest, that you weren’t about to leave, but realized he’d picked up on the thing you were wondering about. The thing no guy had ever picked up on, or cared to, before. The distance your brain was willing to create between itself and your body.

“Joel,” you whispered, sounding slightly more needy than you would’ve hoped.

“I know,” he murmured back. His hand ditched your hip for a split second and took hold of your wrist. Led it up over his shoulder and to the back of his neck, until the backs of your fingers brushed along the ends of his hair. Without fail, you softly clutched into it. “Stay with me. Right here,” his hand went back to your hip and your lips reconnected. Open-mouthed with his tongue pressing into yours. He tilted his head to the side and groaned into your mouth, sending a vibration down your throat, past your chest, through your stomach, and straight to your core.

You hummed back into his mouth, for once closing your eyes and letting yourself live in the feeling his lips could administer. The heat that had already been living in your cheeks seemed to amplify with the size of him around you. His broad shoulders meeting a wide chest that seemed to dwarf you. Large hands that effortlessly cupped around your hip or engulfed your cheek. He was everywhere at once and when he ducked his head lower to kiss your neck, landing a love bite on your jugular, it took extra measures to keep yourself grounded and there for him.

Your hand slowly released the hair at the nape of his neck, and slid down over his shoulder to his chest, followed the seam at the side of his t-shirt until your fingertips reached the hem at the bottom. With fingers tucking beneath the fabric and meeting the skin at his oblique, you felt him exhale a hot breath against your neck, his hips shifting beneath you. As you ran your hand north, you took stock of the muscles your fingers passed, and how while still present and firm, they’d grown less pronounced with age. A softness to his body that he’d earned the right to after years of hard labor. Or so you assumed by the feeling of calloused hands on you.

Gauging what you wanted from him as your hands worked their way upward, pushing his shirt up with them, he groaned not wanting to take his lips off your neck, but doing so anyway to sit back. With a swift motion, he tugged his shirt over his head and tossed it to the floor unceremoniously. He wiped his hand down over his mouth and shook his head as if in disbelief as he pressed his hands back into the couch on either side of you, “god, you’re fucking gorgeous.”

His eyes danced their way over every feature on your face as if trying to commit them to memory, before they drifted lower, down to where your hips met his. But all this unadulterated looking sparked a flame of timidness inside you, and your instinct to quell the nerves was to grab for him, urging him back to you. If he was busy with his lips on you – any part of you – it’d keep his eyes from boring holes into you. His lips met yours again with fervor, this time forcing his tongue into your mouth. A helpless moan floated out of your throat and Joel responded by laying a hand at your neck. Fingers around it but applying no pressure.

“Bed. Please,” you whispered so low you wondered if you had wanted him to hear it or not.

But it was like he was attuned to you and your body more than any previous guy had been. And in hearing your request, he moved his lips back to your neck and you felt a smile spread across his face, pressing against your skin.

“Please tell me you’re not drunk,” he mumbled against your skin. So tight that it distorted his words and had you humming for instant clarification. He lifted his head and looked back down at you, as if his eyes alone would be able to figure out the answer. “Drunk?”

You ran your hands up to his chest, “on two and a half beers?”

“That’s not an answer,” he let out a breath and drifted his hand from your neck, down to your chest where he gave one of your breasts a squeeze. You noticed at the same moment, he reached around to your ass but avoided it to simply adjust himself in his jeans.

“I’d have to be drunk to want to sleep with you?”

“I reckon it’d help,” he grinned boyishly and bent in again for another tongue-led kiss as though he couldn’t help himself.

You grabbed either side of his face in your hands and curled your fingers into his beard. “Not drunk, just want you,” there was a lack of movement on his end and you weren’t sure if he was short-circuiting or trying to figure out if someone your size could indeed get drunk on two and a half beers. Either way, you tapped his ribs, “now, if possible.”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #almost there in part 3 #the one you need #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #au #neighbor!joel

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fillinforlater · 9 months

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Monday of Appreciation: Part 100

Hello everyone, Smite here!

100

Let's celebrate this big number and even bigger achievement with a massive a mount of stories that I have compiled over a bunch of weeks now. 10 in total by 9 writers including all kinds of idols (most are meta, sorrry (not sorry)).

However, first off, I want to say thank you to the interest in support this series has gathered. Thank you all very much for liking and reblogging and sometimes even commenting, it means the world to me. Most of the times, I regard this series as a big success.

I need to say it again though that this is the final regular MoA post. For 100 weeks straight I have gathered between 3 and 11 stories from our community, the only reason/motivation being: Appreciation to those that I really like and want to support. Sadly sometimes, MoA has been seen as something like an seal of approval or rather the "not-inclusion" as a seal of disapproval. This has never been the case or my intention.

With that said, MoA is not dead and will never be dead until I'm dead. New parts will randomly pop up and I will gush over another way idol X has been... written. Until then, stay awesome and feel free to go back to the older parts of this series.

These are the final 10 stories on the regular series of Monday of Appreciation:

-1-

@gangplanksorenji: Do you think you are forgiven? ft. Sakura

Reading smut like this and knowing it was written by Orenji of all people still makes my mind boggle. This is unfiltered smut, set up perfectly (especially with the homage to LSFM's latest comeback). All in all great, especially with the non-focus then back-focus on Sakura.

-2-

@coldfanbou: Culmination ft. Somi

This fic is the finale of the ultimate Somi-bimbo-self-sex-slave series. No, I'm serious, you couldn't go further if you wanted to. It also explains why OC is so hesitant to go after her. Also, NTR, but it's so over the top that it kinda flew under my radar. Somi's hotness is melting our minds, isn't it.

-3-

@lustspren: California Love ft. Soyeon, Minnie

The first time I saw these outfits, I kneeeew someone HAD to write a fic about them, either idol x idol or include an OC and oh boy, lustspren delivered. This has quite the excessive set up, all edging leading up to that hotel room scene that does it all justice. To say it with the words of Mister Smith: "That's hot."

-4-

@smuttysabina: Owning Aespa: Chapter 1 ft. aespa

Exquisite! Charming, funny and utterly drenched in lewdness while also shoving absurdity in your face the entire time. This perfectly encapsulates @smuttysabina's writing style. It's blunt yet still a bit teasing and I like how the descriptiveness is subtle enough to keep you on edge. Literally.

-5-

@ggidolsmuts: Xiaoting's Shouting ft. Xiaoting

This fic has a chinese version and though I cannot speak of the quality of that version, this one definitely has it. One of the many, many great stories you can find in Ddeun's masterlist. Damn, now I can't decide if I want an obedient plaything Xiaoting or a demanding loud Xiaoting (haha, Xiaothing or Loudting (I'm so funny (right?)))

-6-

@tothosewhoyearnforit: A Million Dollars ft. Karina

Ah, the great switch life. Though you might not have a million dollars (sadge), the ability to switch around your behavior to accommodate to your partners wants and needs in the moment... man that is everything. Okay, no, someone incredible hot like Karina, now that is everything. Just like the OC in the next story, I'd pay more than a million to get Karina.

-7-

@smuttysabina: Owning Aespa: Chapter 2 ft. Karina

Oh, look! It's the second chapter to the story we already had! This time we get the bouncy girl in the shower as she bravely strikes a deal with us. Will she succeed though? You better find out yourselves (no really, this will be in the test tomorrow).

-8-

@existslikepristin: Sowon's gig ft. Sowon

Sorry, ELP, I had to put a name on this hilarious mess of a fic. Maybe it does not really deserve a name, but I'm all for it to get one. Hell, even my name is terrible (at least it does not spoil the twist). So yeah, if y'all have like 29,4 seconds on your hand, this is the stuff for you. Damn, why do I love your writing so much?

-9-

@okaylikesmomo: Chapter 4: Sauna ft. Chaewon, Kazuha, Sakura

I love how unhinged this is if you ignore all the context and previous chapters. It makes me think if my multi-chapter series' feel this crazy if one just starts in the middle. Crazy or not, sex sex sex. Although it is okay (writing) sex, neither the writing nor the sex are just 'okay'. LSFM really is that hot and makes us crave for more steamy sex sex sex. What a mess (-.-).

-10-

@iznsfw: Above the law, (under you) ft. Tzuyu

What else can I say except: IZ GOAT?! I guess so, every angle, idea, set up and kink this incredible qt has written has worked flawlessly. I rule that you are guilty of being way too fucking good at this and sentence you to write more sentences to make your sentence longer so more sentences lead to new masterpieces. Please.

Guys, that's it. With a final bow the curtains fall. Until next time. Ciao!

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liketrianglehead-butspaghetti · 3 months

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i gotta talk about FourDogs

I really do. 'Cause I posted a lil' passive-aggressive hot take a few days ago, but this is Tumblr not TikTok. Here we can have our 60-second hot takes and eat our long essays too. Kipperlilly Copperkettle was introduced as a rival in episode 3, after which there were a number of posts criticizing The Bad Kids' response to her, labeling it disproportionately mean at best and bullying at worst. I think that's an unfair reading of that interaction and I'm gonna talk about why.

Now, I'll be the first to admit that it's parasocial as fuck over here and The Bad Kids are my personal best friends actually, so where necessary I'll do my best to separate the ((loyalist ride-or-die-bad-boys-for-lyfe emotional reactions)) from the actual points I'm trying to make.

((That being said, the fuck was FourDogs talking about? Y'know? Like what was she on about, for real?))

Here's what's true: over the course of their time at Aguefort, three adults directly related to The Bad Kids - Jawbone, Gorthalax, and Gilear - have been instated as faculty or staff. And if I'm a third-party, especially another student, then for sure. It's giving nepotism, it's giving cronyism, and I'm drinking my Haterade about it every morning. But favoritism is about treatment. It's about actions, rewards, benefits - and ma'am, if you're gonna levy a charge like that, I'm afraid you're gonna need receipts!

What actual benefits have The Bad Kids received from the school that is not available to other students? In freshman and sophomore year, The Bad Kids get detention like anybody else, they don't make it on the Bloodrush team, Gorgug in particular was always not doing great in Barbarian class, they take their midterms, they have to complete the big 60%-of-the-grade spring break project, etc. And now this year, Fig is getting punished for not going to class, Kristen is getting consequences specific to being a kid with ADHD who doesn't live at home anymore, Gorgug's still getting the literal opposite of favoritism from Porter, and Riz, Adaine, and Fabian are all getting the treatment from professors that is proportional for historically successful students in good academic standing.

((And someone else brought this up but, re:that 60%-of-the-grade project, miss ma'am, what were you doing in the Far Haven Woods?? In addition to saving the world again, The Bad Kids endured borderline psychological torture for their final grade, while the Buttcrushers got to step on bugs in the neutral zone??? But they're the privileged ones, no, for sure))

Whether or not saving the world is as big a deal in-universe as it would be in our real world is up for debate. Brennan said it was an outstanding feat in the scope of student adventuring at Aguefort to consistently complete Class B and C quests, but then, when TBK comes back from Hot Yorb Summer everyone acts like they went on a class trip to Six Flags. Either way, unearned success is the wiiiiiildest claim to lay at the feet of consistent world-savers.

Freshmen year it was the Helioic Fundamentalist Apocalypse and the Emperor of the Red Wastes. Sophomore year it was the Nightmare King and the Night Yorb. They've saved the whole school, they've saved specific students at the school. They My Little Pony-ed Ragh, one of the biggest actual bullies Aguefort had, and then Fabian killed toxic masculinity! Even if the favoritism was in the room with us, would it not be the natural result of all this hero shit??? Aguefort hasn't done The Bad Kids any favors he wouldn't do for the rest of the student body, but even if he had I'd get it because KRISTEN APPLEBEES SNUCK HIM INTO HEAVEN AND THEN BROUGHT HIS ASS BACK TO LIFE.

Again, maybe not remarkable in a world where Revivify is just a thing you can learn, but y'know! Shit!! Diamonds aren't free!!

Also FourDogs' whole tone of disdain for the "eccentricity" of Arthur Aguefort's administrative decisions truly boggles the mind, because we found out in freshmen year that he has some kind of mass Power Word over the government of Solace that allows the students of his school to do crimes, AND in sophomore year he has that auto-call-ex-machina that students can evoke when they're in danger overseas. His "eccentricity" is the reason the school can function at all, put some respect on man's name.

Now, let's get word-perfect.

That's the American Psychological Association.

And that's StopBullying.gov, which is managed by the Department of Health and Human Services.

Here's what's true. At moment 00:00 of their relationship, Kristen said something pretty freakin' mean to Kipperlilly for an audience of her friends with like, no provocation.

Kipperlily then revealed that she has based her entire campaign around addressing the perceived privilege that "some students" have under Arthur Aguefort's rules. And THEN, Jawbone revealed that Kipperlilly had been snooping around asking questions about Kristen's relationships with her god and trying to get general dirt on The Bad Kids. BUT WAIT THERE'S MORE, in the preview for episode 6, we get Murph's line of "Kipperlilly's team is trying to get us kicked out of school".

Does that excuse the thing Kristen said ((yes it was hilarious)), no. Not at all. She didn't know that stuff, Kipperlilly just failed a vibe check. In the moment though, that's all it was. The Bad Kids met someone they didn't like and perceived as a threat, and Kipperlilly had something mean said to her by people she already didn't like and already wants to see brought down. While she was not threatening them in that moment, Kipperlilly is a threat. She's not a victim, she is an equal with opposing goals. And now that Ruben has the song of the summer, The Buttcrushers are probably just as popular as The Bad Kids. There is no greater imbalance, they're just adversaries.

Ultimately, Kipperlilly's got them fucked up. But she's a kid. Kids are allowed to get shit fucked up and misdirect their anger at systemic unfairness. TBK are also kids and well within their rights to feel what they felt when Four Dogs walked up with self-righteous vibes and started yappin about academic privilege in what is already the most academically stressful year of their lives.

As the audience, we not only know all the shit TBK has gone through that Kipperlilly does not, we also are aware of how Brennan is introducing her in the story. As soon as he brings her into the scene, you know what's up. The voice he gives her, the tone, the actual things he's saying - if you watch everyone's face after the line about favoritism gets dropped it's the culmination of the whole interaction. Oh, she's our enemy, like our specific enemy and her team is coming for us, specifically.

So what do we gain from ignoring all that? From ignoring the JUICE of this rivalry and flattening it into "the bad kids were mean :/". I actually love Kipperlilly, the rivalry is giving and I love feeling big emotions and getting to use angry, feral, fandom language. FourDogs, can't wait to see you next week, and I can't wait to read the 40k word, FourDogsxKristen, enemies-to-lovers fics. And y'know, shout out to all the people who kin her because she found the rogue teacher, it's pretty goated, I won't lie.

But also. Bad Kids Supremacy. Buttcrushers, stay mad.

#d20 #dimension 20 #kipperlilly copperkettle #four dogs #fhjy spoilers #fhjy #in this essay i will #free my kids they did nothing wrong #i support bad kids rights #i support bad kids wrongs #fantasy high junior year

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dailyadventureprompts · 1 year

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Why I don’t Use the Great Wheel Cosmology

For those of you who might not know, “The Great Wheel” is a name given to the arrangement and relations of planes that’s provided for the “default” d&d setting, and is assumed to be going on in the background of 99% of all published d&d material. It arranges the planes in a looping sequence vaguely based off the alignment chart, with wordily embodiments of the most extreme forces of good, evil, law, and chaos existing at the cardinal points. Souls depart from the material plane and are drawn directly to whatever plane most aligned with their alignment, to either live on in an eternal state or to become outsiders of their particular domain.

Over the years that I’ve run this blog I’ve stated time and again my distaste for the great wheel cosmology, meting out my critiques in bits and pieces as they were relevant to whatever I happened to be writing about at the time. This has happened so much that I wanted to collect all my gripes in one place so I could link back on it instead of reexplaining myself each time. So without further ado, brace yourself for an opinionated nerd telling you his in depth opinions about something that absolutely does not matter:

The whole point of a cosmology is to describe the natural order/structure of the universe, and the great wheel describes a universe that’s effectively just the christian dichotomy of heaven and hell with a few extra steps. It’s a fundamentally moral view of how the multiverse works, and makes “right” and “wrong” not only into objective facts, but a geography you can walk across, travelling from the most morally correct place to the most incorrect place with just a couple of protals.

This system is painfully rigid, not only removing any nuance over whether a course of action is correct, but preventing any competing worldviews from even existing: you can’t have differing belief systems/schisms of faith when you can go out and see proof of the rightness of the great wheel. Much like with how d&d handles gods, this paradoxically removes the idea of “faith” from matters of worship, which to me removes the whole point of having gods in the first place, reducing the big questions around death into a moral assembly line with one of a select number of pre-determined outputs.

It’s no stretch to say that the great wheel is just the alignment chart canonized as a fundamental part of the game world, and while we’ve all grown past the fundimentally black and white morality of the alignment chat It still mystifies me that d&d uses the great wheel as a piece of worldbuilding upon which most campaigns are supposed to be set.

This boggles my mind because d&d has a much better and simplier cosmology upon which campaigns can be set, one that makes no moral judgments and instead allows for the infinite creativity that the game is supposed to be all about. The astral sea is an infinite expanse of possibility, where worlds are spun together from thoughts and dreams paralleling the process of creation that goes into the act of storytelling itself. What better way to explain a multiverse that functions on narrative tropes more than it does physics? Where hope really can prevail against wickedness and rule of cool supersedes the dictates of fate.

To end with a couple of personal gripes, the great wheel is really kind of boring? As a selection of afterlives about half of them are idyllic natural landscapes with nothing really going on and the other half are unplesant caves/wastelands suffering some kind of fucked up weather event. Most of it is painfully eurocentric when it comes to visions of the afterlife, and those planes that DO stand out ( The crashing metal cubes of Acheron) are more weird for the sake of weird.

I can’t help but focus in on how much the great wheel doubles down on the game’s weird hodgepodge of colonialist belief structures. While WOTC has hastily amended out “always chaotic evil” over the past couple years, they still set their material in a cosmology where creatures like orcs/goblins/gnolls are born evil, drawn to evil all their life, and are doomed to suffer eternally in various hells because “evil” is in their very nature. This isn’t good worldbuilding, it’s the authors seeking some kind of weird vindication for their own beliefs by creating a group of people they can feel morally justified in punishing, and we all know where that gets us.

#planescape #the great wheel #dnd #dungeons and dragons #d&d #5e #pathfinder #dm advice #dm tip #dm tips #dm tools #writing advice

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bi-bard · 1 year

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I Think It's Time You Marry Me - Evan "Buck" Buckley Imagine (9-1-1)

Title: I Think It's Time You Marry Me

Pairing: Evan "Buck" Buckley X Reader

Word Count: 1,103 words

Warning(s): mention of disaster/potential injury

Summary: [Inspired by "Marry Me" by Olly Murs] After a disastrous call, (Y/n) finds themself sitting by the phone and the TV with no word from or about Buck. When the man of the hour finally makes it home, he seems surprised about how much (Y/n) had truly worried about him.

Author's Note: Olly Murs released a new album, and this happened.

Also, y'all remember when I called Buck a himbo and seemed to get a chunk of this fandom to agree with me? Those were fun times.

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

It was easily the longest day of my life.

It had all started so... normal. Maybe that's why the whole day was so mind-boggling. There were no signs of what was going to happen. No sign that anything was going to go horribly wrong.

Buck had woken up before me. He kissed my forehead and mumbled for me to go back to bed before he ran off to get ready for the day.

I sat in my half-awake state, watching him move around the room, quietly thanking whatever entity allowed us to find this little place that could be completely ours. A place where we could both move so naturally.

I curled on my side as he walked back over and kissed me again. He muttered about how he hoped that I had a good day. And then, he left.

I didn't stay in bed for long after that. I got up, made my coffee, and tried to have a relaxing morning. Working from home had some benefits.

I had been clicking away at my keyboard. I had long since forgotten what words I had been writing. The news had been on in the background in the hopes of becoming an interruption to the silence that made me feel gross and sluggish.

And then, the news broke.

It looked like the world was ending. It's so easy for our minds to become apocalyptic when we don't have answers.

My heart dropped. My hands stopped moving and my head snapped over to the TV screen, watching the scene unfold. It almost felt wrong. For my home to be so peaceful and in order while watching everything in the world go wrong around me.

I turned around in my seat, watching the footage with wide eyes.

I jumped for my phone. I knew that if Buck was at the scene, then he wouldn't answer me for a while, but that didn't stop me when I fumbled to dial his number. I left a message for him.

"Hey- Hey, I... I'm watching the news and I know you're busy and I... Just... Just call me or text me or something when you get a chance. I need to know that you're okay. Please. I love you."

Every minute felt like hours. Every hour felt like days. It was terrible and drawn out. I wanted to find a way to run from it all, but I couldn't. I was stuck there in that time. In that period of unknowing and fear.

The news was still on, but it felt like nothing had processed in my mind. Nothing.

I had spent the day pacing. I did laps around the living room and the kitchen. I didn't eat. I tried to drink some water, but I knew it wasn't enough. It was hard to focus on my own needs when there was so much going wrong just outside my door.

I left countless messages. Texts and voicemails for Buck. I felt guilty but it was all just panic and anxiety looking for some kind of answer. I even called Eddie a few times. Nothing.

I checked my phone every few minutes, hoping to see something.

I never did.

It was already dark when I heard the front door open.

I froze where I was, watching as Buck walked back inside. He looked so tired.

He didn't look back at me until the door closed.

It was almost like time suddenly started going back to its normal pace. Like everything returned to how it was supposed to be.

"Buck."

I got over to him as quickly as I could. My arms wrapped around him and my eyes closed, relaxing for the first time in hours. Not fully, but just enough.

I leaned back, my hands moving to the sides of his face. "Are you okay? Are you hurt? I called and left messages and I knew you probably weren't going to have time to answer, but I needed to try. The news was no help. I didn't know what to do. I just- God, are you okay-"

Buck leaned forward and pressed his lips to mine. I froze for a moment before slowly kissing him back. My arms fell naturally around his neck as his hands touched my sides.

I pulled away a bit. I looked at him as his forehead rested on mine.

"I should've called you back," he muttered.

"No, no," I replied. "It's okay. I just... God, I'm so happy that you're okay. And you're home and okay. And that's what matters to me."

"I'm still sorry-"

"Stop it," I mumbled. "Please. Don't apologize. You couldn't control what happened today. I'm not upset with you. At all."

He closed his eyes again.

"I just... I love you so much, Buck. So much. I was scared, yes, but I'm not angry or upset. I'm just relieved. Because you're home and you're okay and I'm actually able to say that to you. Just... God, I love you."

He leaned in and kissed me again. I sighed into the kiss, allowing whatever remaining weight there had been to fall away like I was throwing off a jacket.

I leaned back, grinning at him.

His next words seemed to slip out like he couldn't have physically stopped them, "Marry me."

I stared at him with wide eyes after I took a step back. "What?"

"What?"

"Was... Was that a genuine proposal," I asked.

"I... Well... I don't... I didn't mean for that to come out like that," he replied. I couldn't remember the last time I had seen Buck stumble over his words like that. "I mean... I've thought about it. I've been thinking about it for a while now. But I don't have like a ring or anything. We can just ignore this happened-"

"We are definitely not ignoring it."

He froze, just staring at me.

"Do you want to marry me?"

"Yeah," he let out a sigh as he spoke, a smile breaking out on his face.

I leaned in and pecked his lips. "I want to marry you too."

He looked away, seemingly trying to hide his face.

"We should do it," I said. "We both want to. We've both been thinking about it. We should do it."

"You're sure?"

I nodded. "Surer than I've been about anything in a while."

"Okay," he replied. "Let's do it."

I cupped the sides of his face again, running my thumbs along his cheekbones.

"God, I love you," I muttered.

"I love you too," he mumbled back before pulling me into yet another kiss.

And how perfect a kiss it was.

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

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Some Original Characters

#evan buck buckley imagine #evan buck buckley fanfiction #evan buck buckley x reader #evan buckley imagine #evan buckley fanfiction #evan buckley x reader #9-1-1 imagine #9-1-1 fanfiction #9-1-1 x reader #imagine #fanfiction #x reader

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jellyfishglow · 3 months

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I know I said I was taking a break from this app, but the sheer stupidity of these people is mind-boggling.

I've just resorted to blocking and reporting people because the number of times the cult has changed their narrative is rage inducing. I can't tell if they're trying to convince themselves or if they're genuinely insane.

It makes me so angry that these people won't just let Jimin and Jungkook live. Whether they're friends or boyfriends, they clearly care about each other. I mean, Jungkook is the one who enlisted first:

He wasn't forced. He doesn't hate Jimin. Why is this so f-ing hard to believe?! I wholeheartedly believe Tae and Kook are close, I mean, Tae is over here kissing Jungkook on the neck and shi. If I saw a Jkker saying Jk hated V, I'd block them just as fast as I would block a Jm anti. Why can't the cult just agree that Jimin is dear to V as well as Jk? Because this would throw off their entire ship. Taekook only exists romantically under the guise that Jk doesn't like Jimin.

I just know the leaders of the cult are writhing at the fact that Jungkook chose to enlist first. Well, read it and weep because Jk does care deeply about Jimin. Again, they (jikook) don't have to be involved romantically, but I don't think it's to far fetched to assume they're the closest. Jungkook wanted to enlist with Jimin because he cares about him and wants to be by his side. Like wise with Jimin. That's what the buddy system is for, my goodness 🫥. I'm not trying to romanticize their bond, I'm appreciating it.

I'm just so sick of the cult and toxic "ot7's" hating on them

This topic makes me so mad I need to leave the app again 🥲

안녕히 😭😭

#kookmin #jikook #bts military service #im losing my mind #this app is messing with my brain #i just want bts to be safe #get back safely #the cult needs to be eradicated #if one more tkker blog pops up on my feed I'm gonna snap

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mim526 · 11 months

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How Do You Solve the Problem of Harry

From Daily Mail:

‘Our country is judged globally by the state of our Press and our Government — both of which I believe are at rock bottom. Democracy fails when your Press fails to scrutinise and hold the Government accountable, and instead choose to get into bed with them so that they can ensure the status quo.’ ~~ Testimony given in court June 7, 2023 by Harry Mountbatten-Windsor, 5th in line to British throne

Now he's done it. Harold has truly set the fox among the chickens.

Excerpts from one of the best summaries I've read of the situation with Harry and what needs to be done to address it:

"...what he wrote about [the Government] being at ‘rock bottom’ amounts to an unprecedented attack by a senior member of the Royal Family (Harry is fifth in line to the throne). No such royal broadside against elected politicians has ever before been delivered during the history of our constitutional monarchy. It is deplorable — and dangerous.

"...Yet here is the highly privileged Harry, who wrongly accuses the Press as a whole of not holding the ‘rock bottom’ Government to account, doing his utmost to curb newspapers — so that they won’t be free to hold rich and powerful people like him to account. It’s mind-boggling. "This spoilt and entitled man can say whatever he likes, however self-serving. I don’t even mind too much his ignorant attacks on the Press since the Fourth Estate can look after itself, and has survived more formidable foes than Harry

"What I do object to is his assault on the Government — not because I like this crew very much or esteem their competence, but because they are our elected representatives, and shouldn’t be publicly excoriated by an unelected, and foolish, senior member of the Royal Family. "Our constitutional arrangements are a delicate organism, the product of past divisions and compromise. We tolerate — some of us may revere — an unelected head of state, and a Royal Family with all the trimmings, on the firm understanding that they stand apart from politics. "It has worked well enough for the past 200 years because, with a few exceptions, we have had monarchs who have understood the limits of their powers, and respected the right of elected politicians to govern, albeit with the benefit of royal advice. "Of course, no one better understood the importance of safeguarding this precious relationship between Crown and Parliament than our late Queen, Elizabeth II. How Harry’s coarse political invective would have grieved her. "He’s like an unguided missile, sighting enemies here and there, emitting a good deal of smoke and making lots of noise, before finally crashing to earth with an inevitable explosion — and then mysteriously taking off again, seeking some new target. "In short, he’s potentially lethal. If he describes the Government today as ‘rock bottom’, next month or next year he will unearth another disobliging adjective in defiance of our constitutional traditions.... "Or he may direct his rage once more against the royal institution that nurtured him and endowed him with such significance as he will ever have in this world. His father the King hasn’t been immune to his criticisms in the past, and won’t be in the future. "Harry is a divisive figure. He sets people against each other on issues ranging from the Press to the Royal Family to racism and now, his latest bugbear, the Tory Government. "We can work on the assumption this tumultuous character isn’t suddenly going to learn how to behave. That’s never going to happen, with him 6,000 miles away in California, and Meghan by his side. Their future income depends on fomenting controversy. "Harry is the King’s number one problem. And it is not, as Charles should know and his mother certainly realised, primarily a family problem, though it’s partly that. Harry is chiefly dangerous because he is a constitutional liability. "The King loves his errant younger son, despite the lack of respect he has shown to him. I’m sure he hopes Harry will one day return to the fold. But think of the damage he could do before that happens. And of course he might never return. "If the two of them were still close, and spoke to each other, a way might still be found of persuading Harry to stop stirring. But he is alienated from his father, and the rift inevitably widens with every inept public intervention. "There’s only one way. It may be hard for the King as a father, but it should be easy for him as a monarch and head of state. Prince Harry must be told that if he wishes to remain a member of the Royal Family, he will have to behave as members of the Royal Family are expected to. "If he can’t accept this ultimatum — and I don’t imagine he could — Prince Harry must become a private citizen, in which role his facile declamations will soon be barely noticed, and cause no more damage to the country he once served."

What this journalist did not say is

Even if he agrees with Harry about the government -- King Charles needs to initiate action as monarch/head of state to a) give Harry the ultimatum to behave as a royal then b) work with Parliament to divest Harry of his royal status if he refuses to comply.

The Prime Minister as head of the government needs to view Harry's comments re: the government given in court as the constitutional crisis they are and accordingly, advise the King to take this action

What could/should happen to Charles as monarch if he does not deal with the legitimate and serious constitutional crisis a senior member of the monarchy has created.

Interesting discussion of monarch/prime minister roles: What role should the monarch have in a constitutional crisis? | The Constitution Unit Blog (constitution-unit.com)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

We are way past W&C vs. C&C fandoms now. This journalist is absolutely correct that Harry is Charles' number one problem for which there is but one solution. We can debate whether Charles was a good father; he certainly was and is a loving one.

Being a good monarch is more than charitable works and long hours on the job. I would argue that more consequences for bad behavior as a child could have addressed the uber entitlement/arrogance underlying Harry's foolhardy, but dangerous activities as an adult. There weren't consequences, however, so here we are. Harry's responsible for Harry now, period, full stop.

I hope Charles can be persuaded to firm his resolve and do what he won't want to but needs to do to preserve the monarchy. It cannot survive if Harry is allowed to continue pitting it against the government. That is not an exaggeration: Harry made very clear he was acting as an HRH and senior member of the royal family when suing the British press and speaking against the British government. Word to the wise, Harry will not stop with the British government....

#Harry #MirrorGroupTestimony #ConstitutionalCrisis #It'sCrunchTime

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bigshotspambot · 1 year

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I wanted to do a redraw of the first drawing I posted here… I can’t thank you you all enough for so much love and support :) I guess I’ll just go on about everything here …

TLDR: You’ve all made me so much happier and I appreciate you so much 💕I hope I’ve made you all a bit happier too…! ALSO THANK YOU FOR SPREADING SNEO LOVE !!!! HE LOVES YOU !!!!!

(Also this isn’t the end I just wanted to make a long ass thank you post 😁)

Last year I can’t even describe how self conscious this whole “finding out I had feelings for Sneo” thing made me. I know that it is VERY SILLY to say but it was confusing because I thought I only liked girls. That maybe started to lead to an identity crisis? If that’s the right word?? I also felt really ashamed for some reason, I think I internalized a lot of stuff. I was also horribly paranoid of people I knew finding out I liked this Thing a Non-Normal amount and thinking I was weird for it.

When I made this blog it was a decision I thought about a lot. I eventually went through with it cuz I REALLY wanted to see more x reader content with SNEO, and I was hoping other people wanted that too. So after posting this stuff and seeing people actually liked it, I was filled with both excitement and regret. (Regret because it was embarrassing that anybody saw it) but it was also so exciting because I wanted people to know they weren’t alone in how they felt. For me it’s so validating to know people feel the same (especially about a weird crush lol) and I wanted to spread that :]

I can’t say how much the first asks I got meant to me, especially the supportive ones, they were just so sweet. I could probably go on about this for an unreasonably long time so I’ll try to keep it short- after so much support (and a lot of freaking out) this all eventually helped me accept myself and made me more confident and happy.

It took months though, and it’s still an ongoing process… but I am confident in saying that I’m so, so much happier right now than I was last year :) and it’s because of you!!!

I know this is really cheesy but you guys mean the world to me and you’ve helped me so much, I hope this content has helped you feel more comfortable and understood too 💖I love interacting with you guys. It makes me so happy reading the tags in reblogs, replies, or even seeing the super nice drawings of my Sneo design 🥺 the idea of anybody spending their time to like or reply or even make something for me is just so incredibly kind. The numbers have started to boggle my mind and it’s hard to express how much it means to me, but it genuinely means the world :)

(Again I could go into a lot more detail, but I’m not great with summarizing, and I don’t wanna make this into another horribly long post that goes straight to drafts cuz i couldn’t finish it LOL)

Also one final note FUCK CRINGE CULTURE ‼️CRINGE CULTURE IS DEAAAAADDD GO BE CRINGE AND WEIRD AND CRAZY AND HAVE FUN AND BE PASSIONATE ABOUT WHAT YOU DO BECAUSE YOU CANNOT BE STOPPED‼️‼️ this is the path to enlightenment

#yeah That’s Wverything #i love you guys!!!!!#sneo loves you too!!!!#💛I LOVE YOU WITH ALL MY [HeartShapedObject]#👤UP CLoSe AND [Personnel]#spamton neo #spamton neo x reader #spamton x reader #spamton #🎨art tag #JUST . THINKING #Thank you

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devisrina · 9 months

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Another comparison between Sydney and Claire - The Meet Cute

Credits to: @velvetimbre for this post

We all know the infamous speculation about whether Sydney lied about eating at The Beef or not. What is found even more hilarious is the fact that we're speculating that Claire planned her grocery store encounter with Carmy.

This is unhinged. Like, truly mind-boggling.

Because, the biggest hint that we ever got to Sydney lying was in episode 8, aka the season 1 finale, when she reveals to Marcus that she didn't eat out a lot.

Similarly, we find out in episode 10 aka the season 2 finale Claire has always had this huge crush on Carmy. Meaning that there could be a decent enough chance that she planned the encounter.

It's just the way that these fan theories directly have similarities about how deliberate the planning was while also working as juxtapositions as their reasons were different.

Sydney, while yes, could hold attraction to him, was more on the professional side for her career. Carmy is the best chef in the country and she strives to learn a lot from him to improve her skill. I also want to add that while I think she was planning to talk to him about his career, I feel like she isn't necessarily holding onto that question. I feel like she would have been fine with waiting to ask him at a later day. But because he's the one who is asking her more about herself, she decides to return it by asking about what he's doing there.

It's also really sweet that she asks him before to clarify if it's okay, to ask him a question. This might allude to her thinking that it was a touchy subject, so she made sure to ask first if it was okay. And it's so sweet, especially since we know Carmy, we know he's shy. He runs along with people always telling him what to do or say, and even though this is little detail, it's nice that she gives him a choice with this.

Throughout the show, he's more of the person who kind of breaks down her walls a bit and wants to get to know her on a more personal level. And she begins to feel more comfortable with this and is really glad to have him as a maybe friend.

With Claire, (this isn't meant to be taken in the wrong way) her motive came from wanting to pursue a relationship with him. It begins with some small talk that feels natural but then starts to feel a bit rehearsed when she says "Cause you're the bear, and I remember you." And she segways their earlier banter as a way to get his number.

Her actions and body language are purposely flirty. The way that her voice is when she talks to him, she wants to mesmerise him with her actions. Specifically after he gives her his 'number' she looks back up with her wide eyes and slightly says "Kay."

I also remember thinking when I saw their meet-cute and how Claire/Molly was acting out her lines, how it felt like she was reading off a script for an audition tape. (Molly is a talented actress in Shiva Baby, Good Boys, Broken hearts Gallery and Booksmart, so watching this scene felt off). But then it hit me. It was meant to be that way. Claire essentially rehearsed her lines to come off confident and cool when she finally got a chance to see Carmy.

Like, I feel like she would look way more shocked, nervous and stumbling over her words and sentences if that was the first time she saw him.

Even the most confident person feels so jittery over seeing their long-term crush. She seemed like she planned what to say to him before she saw him again. Even if it had not been that specific day that she thought she would see him, she probably has walked around here and there in hopes that she would see him again.

#carmy x sydney #Sydney Adamu #Carmy Berzatto #Carmen Berzatto #Anti Claire Bear #Not an anti claire bear #sydcarmy

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