#when it comes to texting it's either easier or harder for me.

[punkshort]

somewhere to run | 10. austin

Pairing: sheriff!Joel x f!reader

Chapter Summary: You and Joel travel to Austin to meet with a lawyer.

Chapter Warnings: language, angst, hurt/comfort, flirting, sexual tension, emotional abuse, infidelity, some recapping of DV and SA situations but nothing new, smut (18+ MDNI), unprotected (reader previously mentions she's on bc) piv sex

WC: 6.6K

A/N: I have started a notification blog - @punkshort-notifs if you are interested in following for fic updates (but I will be keeping the tag list for this series until it is over)

Series Masterlist

One Month Later

Life carried on the way it always does. Without permission, regardless of any pain or suffering, it always remained a constant. Whether you were present or not, whether you wanted to acknowledge it or hide from it, it didn't matter, because life always carried on.

The first week was the worst. A week of what you could only describe as depression. A week of being alone. Safe, but terribly alone. Going to work helped distract you, until he came in for lunch like always and it felt like your heart was being torn in two all over again. And you could tell it hurt him, too, but you both seemed willing to withstand the pain over not seeing each other at all. Because even though it hurt, it was a reminder you were alive. A reminder that you could still care enough about somebody else, despite everything.

The second week was when you could no longer smell him in your bed. You woke up one morning, eyes barely even open as you searched around the pillowcase, then the sheets, grabbing and pulling at the fabric, desperate to seek out his scent to no avail.

The third week was when you finally didn't have to fight the urge to call or text him, even though he said you could, you knew it would just make things harder. And he must have agreed because he didn't reach out, either.

The fourth week was when you began to feel like you were finally coming out of your slump. You could go to the grocery store or pharmacy and didn't feel your heart skip a beat, you didn't scan the parking lot for his truck in the hopes of running into him. You didn't stop thinking about him, but it just hurt less. That is, until you ran into Hailey coming back from work one evening.

She was out on the sidewalk, cleaning up some garbage from the picnic tables in front of the pizzeria when you waved and caught her eye. You could immediately tell something was wrong by the pained smile she gave you.

"Hey," she said, the smile not reaching her eyes as she leaned up against her broom.

"What's going on?" you asked her. "Haven't seen you in a while."

"Yeah, I know, sorry. Work's been-" she waved in the direction of the propped open door and shook her head. "But I've been meaning to talk to you."

"Oh?"

"It's about book club," she said, dropping her gaze to the ground. "And I just want to let you know, I voted against it-"

"They don't want me back, do they?" you offered, trying to make it easier for her. She sighed and shook her head.

"It's all so stupid, I'm sorry," she said, looking up at you again. "Nikki's got all those old ladies wrapped around her finger and they're just pissed Joel dumped her for... well, y'know."

"They know we aren't together, right? I mean, I'm married..." you trailed off, not wishing to go into too much detail when you knew eventually when you went to court, all your dirty laundry would be aired.

"Yeah, they do. Still, they blame you, and it's stupid, like I said. They should be mad at Joel, it's not like it's your fault, and I swear I tried explaining that-"

"It's okay," you said, holding up your hand and giving her a sad smile. "I appreciate it, but it's fine. I have a lot coming up, anyway. I won't find that much time to read."

"But we can still hang out! Do you wanna go get drinks this weekend? Or maybe see a movie?" Hailey asked, and you could tell she genuinely felt bad.

"Yeah, either of those sound great," you said. "I'll text you and we can figure something out."

You made a hasty exit and dragged yourself up the stairs to your apartment. Even though you probably wouldn't have continued to go, the rejection still stung.

For a while, the silence was deafening. Without a TV to even distract you, leaving you with endless amounts of time to overthink, you were worried you were going insane. You lucked out recently and found a decent TV at a thrift store, so you at least had something to occupy your time, although you knew it would be short lived. In a couple days, you had an appointment to meet with a law firm in Austin. An appointment Joel had set up and offered to attend with you, and at the time, you were so desperate for anything to do with him, you agreed, but now you were wondering if that was a bad idea. Almost two hours in the car alone with Joel? No, that didn't seem like a good idea at all.

"Whadd'ya mean, you wanna drive separate?" Joel asked as you refilled his coffee. "That doesn't make any sense. Waste of gas."

"Yeah, but I was thinking of staying an extra day. Check out the city," you lied, turning your back to him so he wouldn't be able to see through you.

"Alone?"

You cringed at the word, but nodded. The little dinner bell rang in the window and your eyes jumped up just in time to see Thor put Joel's sandwich on the small shelf. You grabbed the plate and set it down in front of him, his eyes still boring into you, waiting for a better explanation.

"I think it'll just be easier," you said quietly, the words only meant for his ears. When he connected the dots, he leaned back in his chair and nodded.

"Oh," he said, gaze drifting down to his food. "That's a shame. I was lookin' forward to it."

"I'm sorry," you told him, grabbing a rag and pretending to wipe down the counter so your conversation didn't invite gossip and speculation. "So was I. That's the problem."

"And if I promise to behave myself, would you reconsider?" he teased, finally making you smile a little.

"I think you're incapable of behaving yourself, Sheriff," you replied, making him chuckle.

This was what your relationship had been reduced to: quick, flirty exchanges over coffee and turkey clubs. You supposed it was better than nothing.

"C'mon, it's just a couple hours. If you want, you can nap or listen to music," he said, picking up his sandwich and taking a bite.

"Fine," you relented, but only because once you offered taking two cars out loud, you realized how stupid it sounded.

"Pick you up at 7?" he asked around a mouth full of food.

"Sure. Do I need to prepare anything? I've never gotten this far in the process before," you told him, suddenly feeling nervous.

"Nope. Helen already sent over all the reports and once the process gets started, they'll reach out to whatever hospital you went to back in Philly to get your emergency room medical reports," he explained, and you nodded along, feeling fidgety. "I'm sure they'll do some more digging while they're at it. Reach out to his police captain and all that."

"Right," you said, biting your nail.

"One step at a time, alright?" he told you softly, picking up on your nerves. "You already did your part, now let the lawyers do theirs."

"But I'll have to testify," you reminded him, and he slowly nodded.

"Most likely, yes. You don't have to, but it'll help your case if you do."

"And he'll be there?" you asked, wringing the towel between your hands.

"Yeah, he'll be there," Joel said, watching your face fall. "But I'll be there, too. You just look at me when the time comes, don't look at him."

"Okay," you said, taking a deep breath. You knew this would be hard, but you also knew it was necessary. "And this lawyer - they can help me get a divorce?"

"Yeah," he said with a nod, and you breathed a sigh of relief.

"Okay," you said again. You forced yourself to smile even though the anxiety was already creeping up. "I can do this," you told him, trying to sound confident.

"Hell yes, you can do this," he replied. "That's my girl," he added, picking up his sandwich then pausing before taking a bite. He glanced up at you and gave you half a smirk when he noticed the look on your face at the term of endearment. "Sorry, I'll behave."

You had initially dreaded waking up so early, but after the restless night's sleep you ended up having, it turned out it didn't make much of a difference. Your appointment was at 9:30 and it took about two hours to get to Austin, so Joel arriving at 7am gave you a decent cushion in case there was traffic.

Already two cups of coffee down, you poured the rest into a travel thermos and grabbed your purse before jogging lightly down your stairs. You locked your door and turned towards the street to find Joel's truck parked right out front. Glancing around, you noticed it was fairly quiet still, which was a relief. Joel didn't have to take you to see a lawyer. His job was technically done until the trial. He was doing this for you, to give you some support and advice and it would be ideal if you could keep people from gossiping about it for as long as possible.

"Mornin'," he greeted you with a lazy smile, which perked right up when you handed him the thermos. "Oh, you're an angel, baby," he murmured, taking a sip with an appreciative groan. You took a deep breath and forced yourself to focus on your seatbelt. Less than two minutes and he already had you squirming in your seat.

The first hour of the trip actually turned out to be relatively quiet. You sat in a comfortable silence, listening to the radio while Joel hummed along and tapped the steering wheel and if you closed your eyes, you could imagine the scene just a little differently. Instead of Joel taking you to see a lawyer in Austin so you could press charges and divorce your abusive husband, you imagined you were taking a road trip together. Maybe with no destination in mind: just the two of you and the open road, stopping whenever you saw fit to explore and staying at roadside motels with stiff sheets and shag carpets, limbs tangled together as you panted into each other's mouths. No secrets. No drama. You smiled to yourself, the fantasy giving you a pleasant reminder of what you could have if you just stayed strong.

"What're you smilin' for?" he asked, and your eyes opened to look at him.

"Nothing," you said, and he clicked his tongue against his teeth. God, you missed that tongue and what it could do.

"When all this is over, do you think we can take a road trip together?" you asked him, and his eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Yeah, 'course we can," he replied, glancing over at you briefly before looking back at the road. "Where did you wanna go?"

"Doesn't matter," you said, rolling the back of your head against the seat. "Just wanna be with you," you added, softer this time. He looked over at you again, examining your face quickly before focusing back on the road.

"Me too, baby," he said, just as softly.

Joel stopped at a gas station just outside the city to fuel up and stretch your legs. After using the restroom, you wandered up and down the aisles while Joel pumped gas just outside. You were the only one in the store, aside from the sleazy cashier with greasy hair and nicotine stained teeth leering at you every time you crossed his field of vision.

You decided on a couple waters and some sugary pastries and made your way up to the front, forcing a polite smile for the cashier, whose eyes were greedily raking up and down your frame as you approached. You were wearing a modest dress with a cardigan, doing your best to look put together for your appointment, but that didn't stop the cashier's eyes from roaming.

"That all?" he asked as he began to ring you up. You nodded and hummed before glancing out the window, watching as Joel replaced the nozzle on the pump.

"$8.32," he told you, his eyes dropping to your chest as you pulled out a ten dollar bill from your wallet and handed it to him. Your fingertips tapped impatiently on the counter as he slowly counted out your change, clearly trying to prolong the interaction longer than necessary. When it appeared he was ready to hand over the money, you held your hand out, but he pulled your change back a bit and leaned forward.

"You from 'round here?"

"No, just passing through," you said, lifting your hand again, but he clenched your change in his fist.

"What's a pretty girl like you doin' out here all by yourself?" he sneered, his hand dropping below the counter to not so subtly adjust himself in his pants. You made a disgusted face and he smirked.

"She ain't alone," Joel's deep voice rang out from behind you. The cashier's eyes drifted over your shoulder and looked like he was about to make a snide comment when you felt Joel's hand around your waist. His eyes fell to Joel's belt and saw the badge and gun and the smirk he was sporting a moment ago vanished. He quickly handed you back your change and busied himself with organizing the cigarettes while Joel tugged on your waist, urging you to back towards the parking lot.

"And you wanted to drive separate," Joel teased as he led you towards his truck. He opened the passenger door and stepped back so you could get in but you paused and looked up at him. His forehead crinkled as he grinned, his eyes squinting in the sun and all you wanted to do was kiss him and never stop.

"What?" he finally asked when you didn't make a move to get into the car.

"I really want to kiss you right now," you murmured, and you watched the grin slip from his face and his eyes flick down to your mouth.

"We can't," he replied, his voice pained as his gaze continued to drift from your eyes to your lips.

"I know," you sighed. Instead, you stood on your tiptoes to press a chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth, your lips lingering a moment longer than you should have before climbing into his truck. His breathing stuttered, the feeling of your lips on his skin again sending him into a tailspin. He took a deep breath and looked up at you in the cab, putting on your seatbelt.

"Soon," he told you, giving your leg a squeeze before closing the door.

"So you mentioned you know some of these lawyers?" you asked him as he drove through downtown Austin.

"Yeah, I've dealt with this law firm a lot on some cases over the years. They're good people, as far as lawyers go," he joked before making a right hand turn. "I asked to meet with one of the women. Her name's Madeline. She's nice. Been there a real long time. Thought you'd feel more comfortable with that," he said, and you nodded.

"Thank you," you told him for maybe the twentieth time that day. You were convinced if not for Joel, you never would have made it this far. You would have had no idea where to even begin, but he knew the answers to all those questions and helped give you the confidence you so desperately needed.

Your hands began to shake and your stomach felt like it was in knots as the two of you walked up to the front doors of the impressive four-story building. Men and women streamed in and out of the doors, most dressed in suits and pencil skirts and talking on their phones hurriedly. You swallowed the lump in your throat once you got to the front of the building, but Joel held the door open for you with a reassuring smile.

"Don't be nervous, it'll be alright," he murmured as you walked up to the large receptionist desk that housed two women with headsets on, typing furiously into their computers. One looked up and caught your eye, giving you a friendly smile.

"Mornin'," Joel said, telling the young woman your name and appointment time. She glanced at her computer and nodded before looking back up at you both with another smile.

"I'll let her know you're here, you can take a seat. It shouldn't be very long," the woman said, casting Joel one more admiring glance before she turned back to her phone and dialed a number.

Joel led you over to some plush couches and chairs and you nervously picked up an old magazine. You skimmed through it, just looking for something to occupy your hands as you waited. He sat down next to you, then inched closer so he could rest his arm along the back of the couch. It felt like he was wrapping his arms around you without actually touching you, and it gave you a temporary sense of peace.

After a few minutes of listening to the receptionists answer the phones and transfer calls, you finally heard your name and Joel's. You both looked up to find a thin, middle aged woman with short, blonde hair and glasses and a kind smile waiting for you.

"Maddy," Joel said warmly, and the hairs on the back of your neck went up. He wouldn't have asked an ex-girlfriend to represent you, would he?

"Joel, long time no see," she said, giving him a kiss on the cheek before introducing herself to you and shaking your hand.

"That's usually a good thing," he reminded her as the two of you followed her down a long hallway, passing by a few empty conference rooms and closed doors that presumably lead to offices.

"Yes, very true," she agreed with a chuckle before stopping in front of her office. She extended an arm, inviting the two of you to enter first before she followed and closed the door behind her.

"How's Tracy?" Joel asked, glancing at a photo on her desk as you sat down.

"She's great. It's our ten year anniversary this summer. We're planning a cruise," she said, settling into her desk chair and shooting you a smile.

Okay, so probably not an ex.

"Alright, let's not waste any time. I know you drove a long way to get here," Madeline said, clasping her hands together on her desk and giving you another smile. She gave off a positive energy, and you could feel yourself loosening up. "I read over everything Joel sent over so I know the basics, and I am so sorry for everything you've had to endure," she said, her eyes softening. "But can you explain to me why you've never tried to come forward before? Trust me, his lawyer will bring it up."

"Well, I have tried," you began, your fingers tangling together in your lap. "I've gone to the police a handful of times but every time I thought I was making progress, Patrick would do something - call in a favor, I don't know," you said with a shrug. "And my police reports magically disappeared. I've gone to the hospital on several occasions-"

"That's right, I did read that. Which hospital?" she asked, picking up a pen, the tip hovering over a legal pad.

"There were a few different ones," you said, then rattled off the names and approximate dates you visited each hospital.

"Okay. We'll reach out and get copies of those records for the trial," she said, dropping the pen and looking at you to continue.

You went on to tell her about your experience with the police back in Philadelphia and how angry Patrick would get after those visits. You told her about his disappearances for days at a time and how he would come home in a haze, no doubt with alcohol and some type of drug in his veins, how those were the times he hurt you the most.

By the time you got to the part in your story where you packed a bag and left Philadelphia during one of Patrick's benders, you felt a lot more at ease. Your nerves were gone and Madeline's comforting gaze made it so much easier to tell her everything.

"So the next step in the process is discovery. Our team here is going to be digging up dirt back in Philly, and I am sure Patrick's lawyer is already doing the same thing," she said, putting down her pen and looking at you over her glasses. "That being said: is there anything I need to know? I don't like surprises in court. I don't care if you ever smoked weed or pushed him back, I just need to know so I can get ahead of it." You quickly shook your head.

"No, I've never tried drugs and I never hit him back." You glanced over at Joel for the first time and found him staring at you with a look in his eye that made you believe you were thinking about the same thing. After a moment, you turned back to Madeline, about to open your mouth to speak when Joel cut you off.

"There's one more thing," he said, sitting up straighter in his chair. She looked at him curiously, clearly not expecting him to have anything to add. "We, uh," he cleared his throat and glanced over at you. "We had a brief, personal relationship," he said. Madeline sat back in her chair and you could have sworn she was glaring at him. "It's over. It was just once," he continued, and you nodded quickly, trying to help him out.

"Nobody knows, either," you told her, drawing her gaze back onto you. "Patrick had his suspicions, but he also accused me of sleeping with two cooks from work, which is untrue," you clarified, "he's just jealous and angry."

"How can you be sure nobody knows?" she asked, and you paused.

"W-well, nobody..." you trailed off, looking at Joel for help.

"It's a small town, Maddy. If people knew, they'd be talkin'. Trust me," he said, rolling his eyes. "The most anyone knows is I had a little crush on her, but nothin' more."

"Besides. Patrick's cheated on me for years. I'm not an idiot, I could smell the perfume on his jacket and found the condom wrappers in his pants pocket," you told her, but she shook her head.

"This is a little different, hun," she said, leaning forward. "Joel's the town sheriff. He arrested Patrick and broke his nose. It's going to look like he had ulterior motives," she said, lifting up a piece of paper in front of her to double check her notes.

"I didn't break his nose, the table broke his nose. It was self-defense. The guy's got nothin'," Joel scoffed.

"Yeah you're probably right, but he's still going to make your life a living hell in court," Madeline said. "You looking for representation, too?"

"What?!" you exclaimed, turning in your seat to look at Joel. "He's suing you?"

"Yeah, it's no big deal. Happens from time to time, nothin' ever comes from it," he said casually.

"Why didn't you tell me?" you asked, your voice softening.

"Didn't wanna worry you. You gotta focus on this," he said, pointing to Madeline. "The other shit doesn't matter."

You wanted to argue with him but you knew your time was running short, so you let it go.

"Well at least you had the good sense not to take her statement," she said, glancing down at the papers before her. "Let's just hope it doesn't come up, and if it does, I'll be prepared," she said, making a note to herself before giving you her attention again. "I'll do my best to fast track this and set a court date. I'll have my team call his superior officer and we'll run some checks on him, call the hospitals, and start building your case. I'll be in touch soon about any potential witnesses you can bring to the stand that you trust. Anybody who might have witnessed Patrick abusing you, even if he was just yelling or twisting your arm. People you confided in. Anybody you might think can help, start thinking about it now and gathering contact info, okay?"

"Okay," you said firmly. You were starting to feel better, like this was the beginning of the end. And you had the feeling that Madeline was the right person to fight for you. She seemed honest and straight forward, understanding yet tough. This was someone who would give you your freedom back.

"And I can get a divorce?" you asked, and she nodded.

"Yes, I'm going to file the petition this afternoon and he will be served the papers," she explained. "If he contests it, we can cross that bridge when we come to it, but I'm hoping with all the fire we're throwing at him, he won't want to put up a fight."

"Thank you," you breathed, feeling even more at ease now that something was actually happening today. Any amount of progress at this point made you feel good.

You stayed another hour to review an endless amount of paperwork: the contract with the law firm, reviewing your statement for any inaccuracies, initialing and dating next to so many paragraphs on the petition to be filed that your eyes were going blurry by the end.

As you both stood up to follow Madeline out of her office, you stopped short.

"Wait, what about payment? I don't think we discussed legal fees in the contract," you said, frowning as you pulled your copy of the contract out from under your arm.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I thought Joel already told you," she said, glancing over at Joel, who dropped his gaze to his shoes. "The partners picked your case pro bono. The firm has to do a certain number each year and Joel suggested to a few of the right people that your case should be considered."

Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped.

"Are you kidding me?" you whispered in shock, trying to fight the tears that were beginning to spring up. You looked at Joel but he averted his gaze before awkwardly clearing his throat.

"It's no big deal-" he began, but you cut him off.

"No, it is a big deal," you told him, and he clamped his mouth shut. Madeline's eyes flicked between the two of you for a moment, watching as you tried and failed to come up with the right words to convey your gratitude.

"The firm is happy to represent you, hun," Madeline said, breaking the silence. "We're gonna make sure this guy gets what's coming to him, understand?"

You tore your eyes away from Joel, who was finding it difficult to look anywhere but the floor.

"Thank you. Thank you so much," you told her, and she smiled before extending her arm towards the door.

As you walked towards the lobby, she was reminding you to expect a call in a few days with an update and to have a list of contacts ready for her, but you just nodded along numbly, barely listening.

Joel had already gone above and beyond by finding you a good lawyer and coming with you for support, but to also convince them to handle your legal fees? He didn't have to do any of this, but he did, and he didn't expect anything in return. Nobody had ever expressed so much concern about you before. And as you walked in silence towards the parking garage, you realized there could only be one explanation. There could only be one reason why he would do so much, and the thought had your heart pounding in your chest.

You drove in silence for a while, the atmosphere in the truck tense. He tried putting music on but you couldn't focus on anything other than everything that happened in the past few hours. Then you started to go back even further: cleaning your apartment and finding you furniture after Patrick vandalized it, walking you home during a rain storm, fixing your fucking sink when you had barely spoken two sentences to him. You rolled your head to the side, watching him as he focused on the freeway, his grip tight around the steering wheel.

"Look at me," you said quietly, and you saw a muscle in his jaw twitch. After too long of a pause, he just said one word.

"Can't."

"Why not?"

"I'm drivin'."

"Bullshit," you said, and watched his throat bob as he swallowed nervously. You continued to stare him down, willing him to look at you, needing to see into his eyes to confirm your suspicion.

"Please, Joel," you finally said, your voice small. You could see the conflict in his face. The way his lips formed a hard line and his brows pinched together as he fought the urge, but once again he found he couldn't say no.

Slowly, he pulled his gaze off the road and forced himself to look at you. Your lips parted as you looked right through him and he knew right then and there he was fucked.

"Pull over," you mumbled, and he just nodded. He could feel the heat of your gaze on him as he took the nearest exit and pulled into a parking lot of what appeared to be an abandoned department store.

He didn't need to ask and you didn't bother to explain.

Once he parked, doing his best to choose a secluded spot, you each ripped off your seatbelts. He reached down to pull the lever below his seat and slid it back as far as it would go and in broad daylight, you climbed over the console to straddle his lap. His hands flew to your hips as you gripped the sides of his face, searching his eyes frantically before your mouth crashed down over his with a moan.

Joel was normally a strong man, but something about you always made him so weak. Weak and selfish and desperate and he wouldn't have it any other way. That's why, even though he knew it was a mistake, he kissed you back. Your tongues tangled together and when your hands slid up to his hair, he was done for. You were too warm and tasted too sweet and felt too fucking good, it was a miracle he came to his senses when your hand dropped down between you to land on his belt and he managed to pull away.

"That's not why I did all this," he said, each of you panting for air. "I didn't do it so I could fuck you."

"I know," you assured him, cupping the back of his neck. "I know why you did it."

He gazed up at you and slowly nodded.

"Reckon it's pretty obvious, huh?" he said softly, toying with the hem of your dress.

You didn't say anything in return. Instead, you lowered your mouth hungrily over his and he happily obliged. And when your hand drifted back down to his belt, he didn't stop you. He couldn't deny it any longer. He tried, he really did, but it was hopeless.

He wouldn't say the words out loud, and you were grateful. Because if he had, you weren't sure you would be able to convince yourself this was a one-time thing. Madeline's disapproving glare was seared into the back of your mind, her comments about Joel's own lawsuit still very much a concern, but when you lowered yourself onto him, each of you groaning your need into each other's mouths as you stretched around him, it all became a distant memory.

"Missed you so much," you mumbled against his skin as your mouth dragged down his jaw. You rolled your hips, slowly at first, but picked up the pace when you remembered you were in the middle of a parking lot and didn't have much time. "You feel so good," you continued, feeling his arms tense around you as he tried to hold himself back. "Think about you all the time. Especially in bed - ah!" you cried out when he began bucking up into you.

"Yeah? You touch yourself when you think about me?" he grunted in your ear, and your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you nodded. His hands gripped your waist, guiding your movements up and down while his mouth ghosted over your chest, wishing more than ever he could glide his tongue over your nipples, but he was too aware of where you were. He settled for yanking the sleeve of your dress down, exposing your shoulder so his teeth and facial hair could leave little red marks, hidden from view.

"Can't get enough of you, can't fuckin' stay away," he groaned, watching as you circled your hips, greedily chasing your own pleasure. Your arm shot out to the side, seeking leverage against the now foggy window, your fingers leaving telltale streaks as your hand slowly dragged downwards so when he got into his truck the next morning, he would see the ghost of your hand in the early morning dew.

"Joel," you whined, tossing your head back while you began to bounce, your ass accidentally beeping the horn and making you both laugh. Nothing could harm you here. Not when you had each other. Not when you had the feel of his rough hands over your skin and his soft lips against your mouth.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his arms wrapped around you, holding you close. "C'mon, baby. Want you to feel me tomorrow," he said, lifting his hips up to meet yours, bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

You gasped as your body went rigid, a white hot heat ripping through you while your legs began to shake and you whimpered his name over and over. You heard Joel groan and say something, probably a warning he was close, but you couldn't be sure. You nodded and mumbled some encouragement but your mind was still too fuzzy and your ears were practically ringing from the force of your orgasm. But when his teeth sunk into your shoulder, the slight pain snapped you out of it. His arms wrapped tightly around your waist, pulling you down firmly onto his lap until his body stilled and he grunted into your skin.

You rested your cheek on the top of his head while his face stayed buried in your chest, both of you fighting for air as reality slowly began to sink in.

"Guess I didn't behave myself," he finally said with a chuckle. You grinned and lazily raised your head up so you could look at him.

"I think I'll take the blame for this one," you said before lifting off of him with a little gasp and moving your underwear back in place. You were about to swing your leg back over to your seat when he stopped you.

"Just another minute," he said, his hands mindlessly sliding up and down your thighs, and you draped your arms around his neck.

"We shouldn't do this again," you finally said, breaking the spell. He sighed and nodded but his hands continued to glide up and down your legs.

"I know."

You cupped his face and tilted his chin up to look at you. Your thumbs brushed over his cheeks as you stared into his eyes, still seeing everything he didn't have the courage to say. Leaning down, you pressed a tender kiss against his lips, then rested your foreheads together.

"Thank you, Joel."

"You're welcome, baby."

As promised, a few days later, Madeline's secretary reached out for a list of contacts that could be called upon to support your case. You didn't have many people in your corner, but you gave her your cousin's information back in Philadelphia, an old co-worker who you had partially confided in when the abuse started, a few friends who had noticed bruises but you had made up excuses for them at the time, and you reluctantly gave your mother's information, with the note to discuss with you first before contacting her.

You had hoped Madeline wouldn't want to call on your mother to testify. You hadn't spoken to her since you ran away to Texas, and given the way she responded when you told her what Patrick was doing, you weren't confident she would be a good witness. But it was still someone from your past who you confided in, and that was what Madeline was looking for: a trail of evidence, cries for help, anything to prove the most recent incident was not a one off situation.

"Madeline called me today," you told Joel after picking up his empty plate.

"Oh, yeah?" he asked, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

"She reviewed all the contacts I gave to her secretary and she scheduled another appointment for next week."

"Great, what day?" he asked, pulling out his phone.

"Tuesday," you said, replacing his coffee with a glass of ice water. He glanced up at you and quirked an eyebrow. "You drink too much caffeine," you explained, and he grinned.

"Ah, shit. I have a thing at Sarah's school that day. Lemme see if I can reschedule it-"

"No, go to Sarah's school, I wasn't telling you so you would come with me, I was just... letting you know," you said with a shrug.

"You sure?" he questioned, and you nodded.

"I'm sure. I know how to get there now and I feel comfortable with Madeline. I swear, I'll be fine," you told him. He put his phone down on the counter and thought for a moment before leaning forward and lowering his voice.

"This ain't 'bout what happened last time, is it?"

"No!" you said in surprise, and he looked relieved. "Not at all. I'm just trying to... I don't know, take control of my life, I guess?" He nodded but he still looked confused. "What I mean is, I think it's important I do some things for myself. Not that I don't appreciate-"

"I get it," he said with a chuckle as he stood up from his stool. "You just let me know if you change your mind."

"Okay," you replied with a smile, but stopped him when you realized he hadn't touched his water. You held the glass out to him and he stared at it, then looked at you with a sigh before plucking it from your grip and downing the whole thing in one gulp.

"Happy?"

"Very," you said with a grin, and watched him as he walked towards the front door, stopping briefly to chat with Maria before heading back to work.

Joel shoved his hands into the pockets of his dress pants as he walked back to the station, nodding to a few people along the way. He couldn't stop his gaze from traveling up to the window above the pizza place every time he walked by, smiling to himself when he noticed a new plant in your window.

The bullpen sounded quiet as Joel made his way back to his office. He liked quiet days. That was always a good day, in his book. He sat down in his chair with a huff, the little orange light on his desk phone blinking angrily at him, indicating a voicemail. He picked up the phone and punched in his passcode. He was reaching for a pen when the voice on the other end of the phone made him freeze.

"Joel, it's Maddy. Give me a call back when you get this, it's urgent."

Taglist: @harriedandharassed@merz-8@sarap-77@nandan11@anoverwhelmingdin@fandomscollide@survivingandenduring@honeyedmiller@pedropascalsbbg@southernbe@pedrosfanny@gobaaby-blog-blog @eloquentdreamer @yomiyasxx @mrsparknuts@missladym1981@spacedoutdaydreamer @cosmic006533-blog @prettyinpunk85@maried01 @sunnyskyapplepie @sawymredfox@gobaaby-blog-blog@stevie75@mxtokko@sleepylunarwolf@lizzie-cakes@laurrrra@annieispunk@here4thedilfs @navystandardheatingoilcap @slugz-writes-shit@devilbat@ashleyfilm@scp116@tragerlover@iveseenstrangerthings50 @yvonneeeee @brittmb115@lulawantmula@abbysgirlll@ro-nahime-things@whxtedreams@ashhlsstuff@little-pookie@serenadingtigers@paleidiot@ashy-kit@lizlil@detectivejuliuspepperwood@buckyispunk @fckinel @sarahhxx03 @krispeenuggiez @flippittygibbitts@picketniffler@pedroslittlelady

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#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel the last of us #joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller series #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal #the last of us hbo #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us #sheriff!joel #waitress reader #STR fic

[angelltheninth]

I'm your number one fan, I need Dick Grayson jealous.

I don't know what happened but I got so many DC and Marvel related asks all of a sudden. Like over 10 of them.

Pairing: Dick Grayson x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, developing relationship, confession, jealousy, desperate kissing, fear of rejection, pining, sharing clothes

A/N: Let's get some angst in first thing in the morning!

Jealous!Dick Grayson who is a big puppy when he's jealous. He's clingy, he's pouty, he gives you the silent treatment and then wonders why you're not talking to him. He would rather suffer in silence when he's jealous then make it seem like he can't stand the other guy talking to you. He will throw himself into work all day, every day to avoid having to think about it and then wrap you in the biggest hug when he sees you again.

"Have you been avoiding me this week? No, no, I noticed you talking to everyone else but not me, what's up with that huh? What do you mean I've been unavailable? I reply to every text you send. So you want me to try harder? You should have admitted you wanted my company, I would have given it to you."

Jealous!Dick Grayson who just so happens to forget one of his favorite jackets at your place and buys one just like it afterwards. He knows the kind of message it will send and he thinks you look adorable in his jacket, his colors. If anyone else offers you their clothes he'll interrupt, no so subtly either, and say that he's feeling a bit too warm so you can just have his, no need to take anyone else's clothes.

"You're cold, here, you have can my jacket. I'm gonna be fine, you know I'm quick on my feet, I can get home pretty fast. No need to give it back, I have one pretty similar to it anyway. It looks way better on you then it ever did on me anyway."

Jealous!Dick Grayson who keeps his feelings secret as much as possible unless he notices someone flirting with you. Or if you show interest in someone else. He doesn't know how to act in a way that won't give away his feelings for you and he's always trying to stay close to you in case someone makes a move on you. He isn't able to keep himself away from you, his hand away from yours or his angry eyes off the other person.

"I'm glad they backed off when they did, they seemed to be making you a little uncomfortable. You should learn to tell people no you know that? You... like it when I do it for you. Oh! I... I see. I can do that for you any time. I can be your personal bodyguard. What do you mean that's hot? Ha, you're so silly sometimes."

Jealous!Dick Grayson who gets so scared of you rejecting him that he decided to shoot his shoot just before he has to go on a week long mission. His kiss is so desperate, deep, a little salty because you can taste his tears. He's been hiding these feelings for so damn long, and now that they're out he's not even giving you the opportunity to respond properly.

"Tell me when I come back. Whatever it is, I'll accept it. And please, please don't do it over text, that's gonna be so embarrassing for me. Or in front of our friends. You know what, why don't I come and see you after my mission. You'll leave the window open for me right?"

Jealous!Dick Grayson who doesn't get any less jealous when you're in a relationship with him. If anything he goes from a big puppy to the silently aggressive guard dog. He will kiss you any time he sees someone coming onto you, no questions asked. And to rub it in their face even more he will make sure you kiss him back just as hard and show everyone how much you love him and only him.

"Was the kiss too much for you? I wasn't thinking in the moment, but judging from the way you kissed me you liked it. You didn't allow that flirting just to get a kiss from me did you? If you wanted my attention in pubic there are easier ways to make sure that happens."

#dick grayson x reader #nightwing x reader #dick grayson x female!reader #nightwing x female reader #dick grayson x you #nightwing x you #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson headcanon #dick grayson fluff #nightwing imagine #nightwing headcanon #nightwing fluff #titans x reader #titans x female reader #titans imagine #titans headcanons #titans fluff #titans x you #dc comics x reader #dc comics imagine #dc comics headcanons #dc comics x female reader #dc comics fluff

[venomroses]

Zones Fashion

Obviously we all know how killjoys dress, but not everyone in the desert is a killjoy. So here's my headcanons about how non-killjoys in the desert dress. Below the cut because this is gonna get long:

Note: Edited this so rb this version please!

These forms of dress are specific to smaller, more isolated groups where people are usually at least 1st gen zoneborn, and doesn't apply to neutral towns, killjoys, those who follow more traditional city styles, etc. Also I know I said I was going to do drawings for this and I might add those later but for now just text bc the drawings aren't coming out how I like.

Younger kids (2-7):

Both girls and boys have long hair because protects them from the sun without trying to get them to keep hats or hoods on since kids can be difficult about the required amount of clothes, let alone additional stuff. It can also be hard to find children's sized clothes, so many guardians don't bother with "unnecessary" items. Hair is usually kept long enough to tie out of their face because kids also make lots of messes, but sometimes hair will be a bit shorter (usually for boys).

Younger siblings will rarely have anything that isn't a hand-me-down, so if you have an older sibling of the opposite gender then you're probably going to be dressing like the opposite gender for most of your childhood. This is rarely an issue since gender doesn't usually have the same relevance as it does in the real world.

Long skirts are common regardless of gender because they keep the legs covered to protect from sunburn. Also, you can grow significantly before an ankle-length skirt becomes too short, unlike pants where you just have to get new ones when you outgrow them. When skirts get short enough to start exposing a lot of skin, extra fabric can be sewn on, or leggings can be worn underneath. Wraparound skirts are preferred because you don't have to adjust the waist at all when the kid grows, so you don't have to worry about buying/making new clothes all the time. However, other types of skirts work just as well.

A lot of younger kids get homemade shoes. They don't need to be great quality, they just need to keep the kid from burning their feet. Once a kid is old enough to begin helping with the family business (if there is one), go on trips with their guardians, etc. they get real shoes since it becomes more important once they're working or away from home for longer periods.

Then older kids (8-12):

At this age kids are old enough to want to have more freedom of expression so styles vary a bit more.

Since they're mostly still wearing kids sized clothes which are harder to find in the Zones and outgrowing things quickly, hair is still usually kept long to protect them from the sun in place of a hat or a hood that would either be too big or outgrown too quickly to justify buying it. However, sometimes they'll get their hair cut short, especially boys. Regardless of length, there's more variations in hairstyles, since it's a form of expression that doesn't cost any money.

Skirts often come above the knees in the front for more mobility/range of motion. Kids this age are old enough to help with work or chores, so it's easier if they don't have to worry about the restrictions long skirts can bring. At this age skirts are less about practicality. Long skirts are seen as a more childish style as the main point of them is to let kids grow without needing to buy tons of new clothes all the time, and skirts of any length can be impractical. Some guardians don't see the point of the skirt if the kid is just going to be wearing pants underneath anyway and the kid transitions into just wearing pants. For those who do keep wearing it, it makes their ages and allegiances clear. Since "adulthood" is pretty much "whenever you look like an adult" or "whenever you can do the same work as an adult" it makes it clear that this is a child, and that they're not a killjoy (since some killjoys can be this young).

Again, kids this age usually aren't working actual jobs yet, so sandals are more common than closed-toe shoes that might be required for a more dangerous job. Sandals are preferred over closed-toe shoes since they take less supplies to make so they're cheaper. These sandals might be homemade or might be made more professionally.

Younger teenagers (13-15):

This is the age where you'll see a lot of actual variation in style. First short haircuts are common at this age. Some kids might have a job, so hair length is usually depending on the job they have instead of gender. A job where they're often inside or where long hair would get in the way? Short haircut. A job where they're often outside? Long hair. Of course, some people will still pick a style they like over practicality, but looks over practicality is a very killjoy-esque mentality that most of the desert does not follow.

Outfits vary a lot, again based on what's practical for work, but it's common for their clothes to be a bit oversized, since they're usually still on the smaller end even if they are wearing adult sizes by now.

Some kids still wear skirts to indicate their age if their guardians feel that they're not ready to be seen as an adult, but many wear pants only.

Most kids have close-toed shoes now, but again they might be a bit too big. Rags can be stuffed in the toes until they fit properly.

Older teenagers (16-19):

Can pretty much look like anything! Just like for younger teenagers, haircuts and forms of dress are more specific to what you're doing, since most people have some sort of job at this age. Skirts are not worn anymore.

Jobs often work like trades, where you learn to do something and make that your career, instead of switching between them a lot. A lot of jobs are making necessities like clothes, candles, and food, or services like doctors/nurses, messengers, etc. Sometimes certain professions go together, like gunsmiths (who can make or fix guns) will work with artists for killjoys or anyone who'd rather have someone else paint their raygun for them. Markets are a great place to sell their wares so a lot of vendors there are going to be people like this.

If you're interested in other types of people in the Zones/time periods and how they dress send me an ask or something bc worldbuilding my beloved <3

#danger days #the zones

[kasienda]

A Miraculous Reveal - Rings True

Post Season Five - Angst w/ a very happy ending

Summary: Ladybug hits send on her text to Chat Noir, telling him who Monarch is. She tells Adrien a very different story. Adrien doesn't know what to make of it, but he thinks he deserves the truth. Thanks to @coffeebanana, @wackus-bonkus-maximus, and @nemaliwrites for the beta read. This hits just a bit harder because of your input.

Read on Ao3

A Miraculous Reveal - Rings True

I figured out who Monarch is. He’s Gabriel Agreste. Meet me at the Agreste Mansion . 

Chat Noir stares at the text and then glances up once again at the imposing statue erected in his father’s honor. Because his father apparently sacrificed himself to help Ladybug defeat Monarch. 

He shivers in the winter morning air. 

Both of those realities can’t be true. 

Chat Noir falls to the ground, his father’s oversized form blocking out the sun’s glare. He has no idea what he was feeling, but whatever it was, it wasn’t good. He just sits there, gravel from the pavement digging through his suit, barely aware of the passersby chattering about his unexpected presence. He can’t hear what they’re saying with his heart trying to beat its way out of his chest. His stomach is so sour he thinks he might throw up, and his hands shake hard enough he’s not certain he will keep hold of  his baton.

His father’s gone. 

He wished for this. Adrien wanted the man who wouldn’t let him make his own choices or live his life gone. And him being Monarch made all of that worse somehow. 

How many times had Adrien wished Monarch dead? 

Well, now he was. 

But Ladybug told him to his face, as Adrien, that his father gave up everything so he could be happy. 

Adrien can’t believe it. His father had never cared about Adrien’s happiness. That had never been more clear than when he shipped Adrien off to London to be the poster child alongside Kagami for the Alliance rings or whatever else his father had in mind. 

It’s far, far easier to believe his father had been Monarch. 

But why did Ladybug lie?

He doesn’t have to contemplate the question long. She lands next to him and he scrambles to his feet, his shoulders tense as he turns to her. She asked to meet him this morning, it’s the first time he’s seen her since he failed to show up to fight Monarch. Is she angry with him? She doesn’t look angry, but she doesn’t look happy either.  

She very noticeably does not look at the monument. 

“Can we talk anywhere but here?” Her voice shakes. And it’s amazing how just that small sign of anxiety from her makes his own turmoil abate. 

For the moment, at least. 

He clears his throat. “Lead the way.” His voice sounds like gravel. 

She takes off, and he launches himself in pursuit, not paying any attention to where they’re going. He just follows the flash of red as he always does.

They eventually settle on an ordinary rooftop away from prying eyes. She doesn’t speak. She stares at the blank brick wall in front of them as if it holds all the answers of the universe. 

Every moment of silence eats at him, bringing back the clammy feeling in his neck and the sour churn in his stomach. He can’t stand it. 

“M’lady?”

She glances at him and visibly swallows. 

“Are you okay?”

Her hands grip the edge of the roof and her gaze drops. She shakes her head and her eyes well with tears.

His hand covers hers immediately. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”

She leans into his shoulder and his arm comes around her immediately.

She breaks down into tears immediately, and he just holds her as she cries herself out. 

“I wish you were there,” she whispers, and his chest tightens in guilt. “I don’t know that it would have made any difference, but–” her head nuzzles further into his shoulder, “–I would have felt better with you there.” 

“I’m sorry,” he croaks again. He shouldn’t have given into his nightmare. He could have broken out of his father’s prison. It apparently wouldn’t have even mattered that it would have revealed his identity.

Monarch was dead. 

She shakes her head. “You couldn’t have known. I didn’t know either. I was there for another reason entirely.” 

He wants to ask what that reason was, but now that she’s talking, he’s unwilling to interrupt. 

“Discovering his identity was an accident. The miraculized robots were everywhere. They were tracking my active miraculous somehow. I had to detransform. He had me cornered. Thank god you sent Plagg. The tides shifted then! And I had him!”

Her face falls and she buries her eyes in her closed fists. 

“I was so stupid! I thought I could convince him to give it up for Adrien.” 

His throat tightens. It isn’t surprising that his father wouldn’t. But hearing her say it still somehow hurts. 

Adrien had never been enough, not for his father.

He blinks furiously to fend off the unwanted tears.

“So why is there a statue of Monarch in the middle of Paris?” he croaks. “Why did you lie to Adrien?” 

He doesn’t mean for it to be an accusation. He needs to know. 

But she recoils violently. “It wasn’t a lie!” 

He frowns. “But—“

Her face crumples and her body shakes like an earthquake. She breaks down into wracking sobs all over again. “I lost , Chaton. I trusted him. I wanted to be able to heal their relationship. He took all the miraculouses - including the Ladybug and the Black Cat. He made a wish.”

Adrien sucks in a breath. 

“But something I said must have gotten through because he changed his wish. He didn’t wish for his wife to be revived. He joined her in death instead. Then all the miraculouses minus the butterfly were returned to me. Before he did it, he asked me to make sure Adrien remembered him fondly.”

Adrien tastes bile. Seriously? His father wanted Adrien to think well of him? 

“So I only told Adrien the good parts. But I didn’t lie . Gabriel did sacrifice himself for his son’s happiness in the end. He did help me defeat Monarch.”

Adrien’s claws dig into his knee. His father may have said he did it for Adrien, but that’s what he always said. That’s what he said when he wouldn’t let Adrien have a birthday party, or go play music with his friends, what he said when he had forbidden Adrien from being with Marinette and when he had Adrien shipped off to London. 

But none of it was ever actually for Adrien. It never was. 

His father hadn’t needed to make a wish at all. He didn’t have to leave. If he wanted Adrien to be happy, he could have come back and done things differently. “But it’s a lie.”

She shakes her head. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Doesn’t matter?!” he echoes hotly. “That’s what Gabriel did to his son all the time. Lied to him, made choices for him about what he was allowed to know and do, what Adrien was allowed to feel . He locked him up and sent him away from the people he loved most!”

His heart rises to his throat, his chest heaves up and down. 

Ladybug stares at him, her eyes wide. “How do you know all that?”

He tries to meet her gaze, but he can’t do it. He feels exposed. 

“And now you want Adrien to remember that man fondly?! Want him to think that his pain and frustration and anger are all something he imagined?!”

She cries harder. “But he deserves better than Gabriel,” she sobs. 

Chat Noir took both her shoulders and squeezed them gently. “He deserves the truth. You need to tell him, M’lady.” 

And he’s being ridiculous. He already knows, so what does it matter? 

He just wants her to be the one to tell him.

“But how do I do that?” Her words are barely louder than the wind. Tears slipdown her face. 

“He deserves to know,” he says again.

She leans back into Chat’s chest. “You’re right. I just— I wish he didn’t have to go through all this.” 

“He won’t be alone.” 

He has Marinette, Nino, and Plagg.

He has her .

… 

Ladybug doesn’t show up that night. Or the next. Adrien spends each evening pacing back and forth in front of his stupidly large glass window. He purposely kept his evenings clear - sending Marinette home early and begging Nathalie to let him eat alone in his room. 

He was trying to make it easier for Ladybug to approach him. 

But still, she hasn’t come. He doesn’t understand it. What is she waiting for? Does she not trust him as Chat Noir? Does she think Adrien can’t handle the truth? 

Adrien throws himself backwards onto his bed. Each day he proves more irritable than the last, prone to snapping at everyone around him — even Marinette, who’s the absolutely last person who deserves his ire.

Five excruciating days later, she stands before him, wringing her gloved hands and all the tension that had been building up inside him like water against a dam for days, releases. 

She’s here. She’s going to tell him.

He smiles at her. “What can I do for you, Ladybug?” he asks.

She doesn’t meet his gaze. She’s so worked up, he almost feels bad that he pushed her into this. He could have just volunteered as Chat Noir to talk to Adrien himself. 

“Are you okay?” he asks. 

She laughs darkly, and looks at him. “You should not be asking me that. I just… I have some things that I need to tell you, things I should have told you before. C-can we sit down for this?” 

“Of course!” he says, walking her to the couch. “Can I get you anything?” 

“No, no! I’m fine,” she says. “You should sit too.” 

He sits next to her. She’s vibrating in her seat. Her legs are bouncing, her hands are fidgeting, she looks at him only to look away immediately. 

She bolts to her feet and starts pacing in front of him. His eyes follow her. 

“So umm…” Her hands flail around her. “You know how I told the city that your father helped me defeat Monarch?” The words come out of her in a rush, like she’s afraid if she stops she won’t get them out. 

“Yes?” 

“Well, that wasn’t exactly true. Your father—” she looks at him now. “Well, he was Monarch.” 

And there it is. The words are out. He almost wants to laugh. Instead, he lets out a heavy sigh.

“Are you okay?” she asks, kneeling down in front of him, and taking his hands. 

He smiles again, and nods. “I… okay is not the word, but maybe? Thank you for telling me. It’s relieving in a way.”

“Relieving?” she repeats, her eyebrows arching in disbelief.  

“Yeah, thinking of him as a hero after everything he had done to me… it didn’t feel right, but being angry with the person who helped Ladybug save all of Paris— well, that didn’t feel right either.” 

“I— I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before.”

He squeezes her hand. 

“Why are you letting the whole city believe he was a hero?” he asks. It’s still the one bit that doesn’t make sense. 

She offers him a pained smile. “Because I didn’t want anyone to know you had any association with the villains.”

He frowns. “You don’t need to do—“ 

She shakes her head sharply, cutting him off. “There’s more to it than that. This next part, Adrien. I…” she bites her lower lip. “I haven’t told anyone. Not even my partner.”

Every muscle in his body locks up. 

“This is too sensitive, too personal. I feel like I shouldn’t even know.” 

Her hands tremble, and he shivers.  What could be so awful that it was worth letting all of Paris believe Monarch was a hero?  

Ladybug’s finger taps the rings on his left hand - and he glances down at his parents’ wedding rings. 

“These aren’t ordinary rings. They’re amoks.”

“Amoks?” he repeats. “Like for a sentimonster?”

“Sentibeings,” she corrects. “These are your amoks.” 

Did his father leave sentimonsters running around? Ones that Adrien is now responsible for? How awful was—

Ladybug watches him carefully. She’s biting her lip again, her eyes wide, clearly bracing herself for his reaction. 

He missed the mark. The rings are suddenly all he can see. These are his amoks. 

He hunches forward, his shoulders feeling like lead. He gasps for air that won’t fill his lungs. It feels like the ground has opened up underneath him and swallowed him whole.

Ladybug’s arms wrap around him, she cradles his head against her chest. She strokes his hair like he’s a small child needing to be soothed.

“I’m a… sentimonster.” 

She shakes her head violently. “Senti- being. ” 

He laughs, the sound hysterical and unbelieving even in his own ears. 

“But yes, you were created with the peacock miraculous.” 

He’s a sentimonster. 

His whole life is stored in a pair of rings . 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know how to tell you this,” Ladybug says, tears slipping over her mask. “I wish you didn’t have to know.” 

His eyes fly up to her face. Ladybug almost didn’t tell him. If Chat Noir hadn’t convinced her, would he have ever known?

Suddenly, he’s furious. “You weren’t going to tell me.” 

“Adrien, I swear I returned the rings to you the second I understood what they were.” 

“What if I had taken them off or given them away?!”

Then her words catch up to him. 

“Wait. You didn’t give me these rings. It was… Marinette?” 

Her eyes flood with tears. It’s confirmation enough. 

He scuttles backward so fast the couch tips over. He shoves himself across the floor further, needing to be away from her. 

“Adrien! Please!” she begs, reaching for him on her knees. 

She’s Marinette. 

He sobs brokenly, shaking his head. “I don’t understand! Why would you keep this from me?! I thought Ladybug, at least, had no idea what my father was like. But you? Marinette! You stood against him time and again. And now you cave to him?! To lie to me?!” 

“I didn’t want to hurt you! I wanted you to be as happy as possible given everything that has happened.” 

He caves in on himself - he cradles his neck, and buries his head between his knees, rocking back and forth. 

“Adrien?” she asks, her hand hovering over his shoulder. He flinches from her, and she backs away. 

“I’m sorry!” she cries. 

“You know, when I read your text the first time, I felt relief . My father was Monarch. That sucked, but it also felt like a puzzle piece had snapped into place. Something that made sense .” 

“What text?” 

“Then you showed up to talk to me, and you fed me a completely different story! My father, a hero?“ he laughs bitterly. 

“Adrien—“

“When I told you that you needed to tell me, I didn’t think it mattered because I already knew. I wanted to hear it from you.”

Her eyes blow open wide and her mouth falls open into a horrified “oh”. 

“Chaton?” she asks, her voice cracking.

“If I hadn’t done that, would you have ever told me?” 

Her cries only intensify and she doesn’t answer him, but for once, he’s unmoved by her tears. He can’t ever remember being so angry with her. 

“You’re just like him.”

The look on her face is pure devastation. He can’t bring himself to care. 

“I’m so sorry,” she sobs. 

“Why didn’t you just use the rings?” 

“What do you mean?” Her voice is so quiet he barely hears her. 

“If you wanted me to be happy, couldn’t you have just ordered me to be happy?”

“Adrien! That’s horrible!” 

“Is it?! How is it any different than what you did?! You told me lies to manipulate my feelings! Made me believe in something that you knew wasn’t true. The rings just would have made it easier.” 

“I would never do that to you!”

“But you did!”

“I’m sorry! I didn’t understand! I never wanted to hurt you. I love you.” 

“That just makes it worse.”

“Adrien, please.” She reaches for him again. And he pulls away. 

“I can’t do this right now.” 

She stares at him, her eyes glassy. “Adrien–”

“Just go!” he shouts. 

And she does. And he’s not entirely certain that he wants her to come back. 

…

She keeps calling him. She calls him so many times that first night he loses track. She leaves him messages almost every time. He listens to every single one the second it comes in. 

She apologizes profusely again and again. She cries until her voice is sandpaper, and then she cries more. She understands why he’s angry and she knows what she did wrong. 

He wants to forgive her. He does. 

But he doesn’t know how.

Two days go by, and he still doesn’t take any of her calls. But he continues to listen to every message. 

His phone rings again, but it’s Alya. 

“Hey, what’s up?” he answers cautiously. 

“How are you doing?” And it’s definitely Alya talking — not Marinette and he relaxes. 

“That depends.” 

“On?”

“Are you asking because you want to know, or because Marinette does?”

“I won’t tell Marinette anything if you don’t want me to, but whatever happened between the two of you, know that she has always loved you.” 

He squeezes his eyes closed. He doesn’t even doubt that. But his parents had loved him too. He twists his amoks around his finger. That hadn’t stopped either of them from controlling and manipulating him. 

“Sometimes love isn’t enough,” he says. 

Alya’s silent for a moment. “You don’t really believe that, do you?” she asks softly.

“I didn’t used to,” he admits. “But now… now, I don’t know where I stand with anyone.” 

“I can only imagine how hard it must be to process everything about your father.” 

“Yeah, everything about my father,” he echoes dully. Alya doesn’t know even half of it— 

“It’s so messed up,” she commiserates. “Especially given who you all turned out to be.” 

Unless she already knows all of it. Because she’s Ladybug’s best friend! 

“How long have you known?” he asks, trying to keep his tone even, but it probably just comes out cold. 

“Known what?”

“That I’m Chat Noir, she’s Ladybug, and my father was fucking Monarch?!”

“Adrien, listen—“

Adrien’s tired of listening. 

“—she had a total meltdown.” 

“She told you before she told me, didn’t she?” 

“Adrien–” 

He’s shaking his head even though she can’t see him. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“Because I thought it should come from her! ” 

“Did she also tell you I’m a sentimonster and she wasn’t going to tell me?!”

“A what?! Adrien!—“

He hangs up. He tries to take solace from the fact that Marinette hadn’t told Alya or Chat Noir about Adrien being a sentimonster. She had some lines she wouldn’t cross at least. 

But it’s not enough. She hadn’t planned on telling him either. 

He twists the rings on his finger. What if he had taken them off? 

It’s the thought he can’t shake.

He calls Nino.

“Hey mec! What’s up?” 

“Tell me you didn’t know.” 

“Know what?” 

“Did Marinette or Alya tell you about me?” 

“Umm… I thought you already knew that Marinette liked you since you guys have been dating.” 

And despite everything Adrien bursts out laughing. Nino definitely didn’t know anything. 

“Dude! What is going on?”

“Can I come over?”

“Anytime, mec!” Nino exclaims enthusiastically! “You never have to ask.”

…

Adrien barely has time to knock before Nino whips the door open and yanks him inside and into a hug. 

Adrien lets himself relax. Nino didn’t know anything. Nino never lied to him. If anything, Nino was stupidly forthcoming about his own secrets. 

He can trust Nino. 

Which gives him an idea. A terrible idea. 

“Dude! How’ve you been holding up?” 

Adrien shrugs. Before he can overthink it, he slips both of his amoks off his finger and presses them into Nino’s hands. 

“Put these on,” he says.

Nino looks at the rings. “Are these wedding rings?” Nino asks. 

“Technically, yes.”

“You proposing, mec? You could at least buy me dinner first.” 

Adrien doesn’t laugh. “Just put them on. I want to try something. I’ll explain after.” 

Nino slips the rings on without any hesitation. “Okay. Now what?” 

Because Nino trusts him. 

“Tell me to do something weird.” 

“Weird like what?”

“I don’t know, something I wouldn’t normally do.” 

Nino pulls out his phone and puts on a dance remix. “Alright dude. Dance like you’ve never danced before.” 

Adrien throws himself into the moves, rolls with the music Nino’s music, he tells himself. It doesn’t feel like a compulsion. It feels like he wants to do it - almost like it’s his own idea. But he can’t stop either. And he wants to cry. 

How many times had he tried to stand up to his father only to immediately fold once standing before him?

Even his maman! How many times had she sweet talked him into cooperating? She had always said he was an easy child. All he had ever wanted was to make them proud. Was any of it him? 

Nino stops the music.

“Dude! You’re crying.” 

He is, and yet, he’s still dancing. Another sob tears from his throat. 

He’s not human. He’s a sentimonster, a puppet on strings, a plaything for his parents’ amusement.

“Stop it! What’s wrong?” Nino asks, putting a hand on his shoulder. 

Adrien’s limbs still, and he falls to his knees, sobbing.

Nino is on the ground right next to him an instant later. “Talk to me, please.”

Adrien knows with that command, he can technically talk about anything, but he had come here to talk about one thing in particular.

“I’m a sentimonster,” he gasps. “I’ve been a sentimonster my whole life. Those,” he points to the rings on Nino’s pinky and ring finger, “are my amoks.” 

Nino’s expression falls off his face. Then he tears the rings off his hands and slams them up against Adrien’s chest. 

“Why would you ever give these to me?! Why would you give them to anyone?!”

“I just… wanted to know how they worked, what it felt like. I didn’t think you would use them if you knew.”

“Damn right, I wouldn’t!” Nino roared, his chest visibly heaving. “Please don’t put me in that position again!”

Adrien nods. “I’m sorry.”

“What the hell is going on? What do you mean you’re a sentimonster? They haven’t been around that long. Are you some kind of copy of my best friend?” 

Adrien shakes his head. “I’m the original, one and only, Adrien Agreste. My father had the butterfly and the peacock since before I was born, and apparently for some reason —“ that Adrien hadn’t had time to even think about, let alone figure out. “—they raised a sentimonster instead of having a child using more natural methods.” 

“Wait! Your father had the butterfly?! But that means—“

“He was Monarch,” Adrien says before Nino can. 

“But Ladybug said—“

“Yeah well, Ladybug doesn’t have the best relationship with the truth,” he says bitterly. “She’s just like my father.” 

Nino looks more shocked by that than anything else Adrien has said. 

“What?” Adrien asks, unable to interpret Nino’s silence. 

“Dude!” Nino exclaims like that explains everything. “You’ve always been Ladybug’s biggest fan!” 

“That was before she tried to lie to me about my father! She wasn’t even going to tell me about being a sentimonster! She gave me back these rings without saying anything! What if I had lost one or taken them off? Or gave her one when I proposed?!”

“When you proposed?” Nino echoes. “To Ladybug?” 

Adrien thunks his head against the wall. He hadn’t lasted twenty-four hours with her identity. She’s going to kill him.

“Can we pretend I didn’t say that?” 

Nino’s head cocks to the side. “Marinette is Ladybug. Huh.” 

“That doesn’t surprise you?” 

“That’s definitely the least surprising thing you’ve said today. Not surprising at all really,” Nino says. “Okay, so we’re pissed at Maribug—“

“Cute.” 

“—because she didn’t tell you about your father being an even worse dick than we already knew. And she didn’t tell you were a sentimonster. But then, how did you find out?” 

“She told me.” 

“But—“

Adrien sighs. He’s already screwed as it is. “She told me as Chat Noir.”

Nino is silent again. “You’re Chat Noir.” 

“Yup.” 

“And your dad was Monarch.” 

“Unfortunately.” 

“Mec! That’s so messed up.” 

“Tell me about it.” 

“So Maribug told Adrien the same thing she told the city?”

“Yeah, that he died a hero helping her defeat Monarch.” 

“Gross,” Nino says. “Why would she want you to remember him with rose colored glasses?” 

“I don’t know!” 

“Do you think she killed him?” 

Adrien freezes. The thought had never occurred to him because it’s incomprehensible. “No. There’s no way.” 

“And she told Chat Noir - not knowing that she was talking to you - that you’re a sentimonster?” 

“No, she only told Chat Noir that my father was Monarch.”

Nino hums. 

“Just say it,” Adrien says. 

“Well, I get that you’re pissed. I think I am too on your behalf. But I don’t think Marinette is anything like your father.” 

“Go on.” Adrien wants to forgive her. He just needed a way to get there in his own head. 

“The difference is Marinette did tell you.” 

“She wasn’t going to. I had to talk her into it.” 

Nino nods. “ Exactly. She wasn’t going to, and then you explained your perspective and she changed her mind. She recognized that she was wrong, that you were right and she did what Marinette always does. She tried to fix it. Your dad would have only doubled down.” 

“Or tried to akumatize someone over it,” Adrien adds darkly. 

“Dude! He’s akumatized like every single one of your friends.” 

His father hadn't wanted him to have any friends. Had his father ever seen him as a real person? 

“Nino, do you still care about me knowing that I’m not real?” 

“What the fuck kinda question is that? One, yes! I care about you more than almost anyone on this planet. And two, you are most definitely real .” 

Adrien’s crying again, but Nino quickly seizes him in a hug. Adrien buries himself in Nino’s solid embrace, and he knows he’s going to be okay even if he’s not there yet. 

…

It’s been four days since he shouted at Marinette to get out of his room. 

She’s still calling him, and he covets every message, as a sign that she loves him despite what he is, that she hasn’t given up on him, or on them. He listens to them the second they show up, though he still hasn’t been able to bring himself to respond, though he thinks he might be getting close. He did send a message through Alya that he just wants some space and he’ll let her know when he’s ready to talk.

Most of her messages are similar in nature. She apologizes over and over, tells him that she loves him, and that she’ll do anything to make it up to him. She just doesn’t know what that is. 

He thought that he might feel vindicated or something hearing her so small and contrite, but he doesn’t. He feels awful because as much as he was hurt, he doesn’t want her to hurt either. 

He loves her. 

Then her last two messages were drastically different in content. 

“I learned that you were a Senti from Felix.” Her voice is subdued, like she’s narrating from a script. “He and Kagami are both sentis as well. They asked Ladybug for help.” 

Figured that Felix told Ladybug without even telling him .

“I’m not sure they want anyone to know that, but I guess… even if you—“ her voice cracks and his chest clenches at the pain in her voice. “—even if you can’t forgive me, I-I just wanted you to know you’re not alone.”

She’s openly sobbing now. “I love you.” 

The message abruptly ends.

The second message that day comes in hours later. 

“I got Kagami to bully Felix into letting me talk to Dusuu!” Her voice is so different from the previous call. She sounds excited. She sounds like Ladybug with an idea. “The original amoks didn’t have a mind control feature. That was something the Guardians added at the same time they added it to the miraculouses to be able to control the Kwamis. If they added it, there’s gotta be a way to take it away, right?” 

“I have a plan to free you all from your amoks. But there’s a hiccup. We’ll need the butterfly so I can give you the power to see your spiritual connection to the ring so you can cataclysm only the part that can control you. I know it’s dangerous. And we don’t have to do it if you’re not comfortable, and we don’t have the butterfly right now anyway—“ 

Adrien smiles as Marinette rambles on. How had he never realized Ladybug and Marinette were the same? They think out loud in the exact same way. 

Even though he asked for space, even though he wasn’t talking to her, even though she wasn’t certain they were going to remain a couple, she was still fighting for him. 

He transforms immediately and lands just outside the bakery. He’s not sure if she’s even home, but he hopes that she is. 

He takes the stairs two at a time. He hesitates before knocking. And before he can bridge the gap, the door flies open of its own accord. 

Marinette drops her purse and stares at him. Her eyes are red and her usually neat pigtails are half falling out and completely uneven. She’s still in her pajamas though she had thrown a coat and a scarf over them. 

She has never looked more beautiful. 

He offers her a wobbly smile. “I’m sorry. You’re on your way out. I can— I can come back.” He starts to turn around. 

She grabs his wrist. “No! Please don’t go.” Her voice is hoarse, and faint, like she’s afraid if she’s too loud he’ll bolt. “Wh-what do you wan— I mean, need? What do you need?” 

He eyes her grip on his wrist, and she instantly lets go, and suddenly can’t meet his eyes. 

“Can we talk?” he asks. 

She nods. Her eyes are downcast, her shoulders are hunched in, and her arms are wrapped around her stomach. She’s been tearing herself up for all the days he didn’t speak to her. 

“Hey,” he says softly. “Can you look at me?” 

She does, but her eyes water immediately, and he yanks her into his arms.

“It’s going to be okay,” he assures. 

She falls to pieces in his arms. He rocks her harder, kisses her hair, and continues to hold her. 

“I’m so sorry,” she sobs. 

“It’s… o—“ he cuts himself off before he can say it’s okay. Nino told him that was the one sentence he wasn’t allowed to say. “It’s going to be okay,” he says again. 

She shakes her head. “No, I’m awful. I don’t know what I was thinking! You’re right to be so angry. You’re right to hate me!” 

He laughs, and then cups either side of her face. Her blue eyes fill with tears and he aches for her. “M’lady, I could never ever hate you. I was hurt.” 

“Of course you were!” 

“And I needed some space.” 

She nods against his hands. 

“But I’ve been thinking, and Nino made me realize that I actually should be thanking you.” 

“Thanking me?! For what?!”

“Because you told me.” 

“But I wasn’t going to. Not until you convinced me to.” 

“But then you did. You listened to me, and you trusted me as Chat Noir, and then you told me as Adrien. And I’m glad that I know now. I needed to know. No one else was ever going to tell me. And so, I’m really glad I have you, that you respected me enough to tell me this hard truth about my own life. My parents didn’t tell me. Nathalie never did, though she had to have known. And I don’t think she ever would have. Even Felix, and apparently Kagami, didn’t tell me though you think they’d get it better than anyone.”

“But I should have told you right away. I never should have lied.” 

He shrugs. “Yeah, that’s true, but we all make mistakes. And when you realized you were wrong, you tried to fix it.” He held up his phone. “And you’re still trying to fix it. Even though it’s hard, even though I didn’t take it well. You still told me the truth when no one else did. And I just— I love you.”

He presses his forehead to hers. “Even when you make mistakes, even when you really piss me off, even when you’re not perfect, I love you. And I don’t think that will ever not be the case. Thank you for telling me, thank you for giving me some space to figure stuff out on my own, and if you’ll still have me, may I still be yours?”

“If I’ll still have you?” she repeats, aghast. “Shouldn’t it be if you’ll still have me?”

He shrugs again. “I’ve already said I still want to be your partner in every sense of the word, but I’ve had time to think about it while you were sending me message after message that you loved me. Even though I’m not even human.” 

Her face contorts into pure rage. “Adrien Agreste! You are the most beautiful human being I have ever met in my life! You are kind. You give people second chances. You are persistent, and brave, and you have the dorkiest sense of humor. You drive me absolutely insane both with and without a mask, and I am so stupidly in love with you, I will absolutely still have you! And if you think—“

He cuts her off with a kiss. He’s going to spend the rest of his life with this girl if he has anything to say about it. 

#miraculous ladybug #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #ladynoir #ladrien #identity reveal #they fight #alya and nino are MVPs #they make up #happily ever after #my own content #a miraculous reveal #angst with a happy ending #rings true

[thinkin-bout-milgram]

Double: Initial Thoughts

Hello Milgram community! It's time to talk about Mikoto's second MV, Double! This is pretty fun for me, given that Mikoto is actually the first prisoner whose MV I watched when it came out. I have gotten so much better at theorizing. The old theory is... meh. Ignore it, it was wrong and doesn't really matter.

Though, to be honest, and I think people will agree here -- I don't feel like Double actually gave us much to work with. The biggest thing is the confirmation (in my opinion) that there for sure only are two alters, which makes things easier to figure out, not harder. Because of this, these initial thoughts might be a bit less interesting than normal. Still, I'll do my best!

T/W: Murder, toxic work environments, mental health crises, blood

For the sake of this theory, I'll be using @onigiriico's English translation of Mikoto's new audio drama, Neoplasm! Thanks as always for your great work! I'd also like to thank everyone who sent in help with the translations! I'll be using Rochisama's (@barudo's) translation post, which translates all of the Japanese background text in the MV.

Also, as you'll see in the audio drama, Es takes to calling Orekoto John and Bokuto Mikoto. I... will not be doing that. They're called Bokuto and Orekoto to me based on the personal pronouns they use.

Disclaimer: I'm for sure not an expert on DID, so if I say anything wrong/offensive please let me know so I can correct it!

Anyways though, here's what thoughts I do have!

Orekoto's alter developed as a result of stress in Bokuto's life.

This is pretty much straight-up confirmed in the audio drama.

Orekoto: … I think… I might be the person Boku wishes he was. The person who stubbornly stands his ground, who doesn’t cry himself to sleep from stress, who gives people their payback. If I, the “ore” personality, hadn’t been born, I’m sure Boku would have reached his limit and fallen apart.

Based on this, we know that there's some general stressor going on in Bokuto's life, and we know that Orekoto seems like the new alter who developed for the sake of protecting Bokuto. I believe that's what's pictured at the beginning of the MV:

The glass breaking is most likely meant to display the "fracturing" of Mikoto's identity, signifying the creation of the Orekoto alter.

The most obvious stressor in Bokuto's life seems to be work. At the beginning of the MV (0:12-0:18), we see Mikoto's phone with text messages. The text translates as follows:

Chief (7 mins ago) Regarding the first draft you submitted today, I think option B might be the best after all, so can you remake by the morning.

Chief (5 mins ago) Also I forgot to mention, but you also made a lot of mistakes with the one we spoke about earlier, so make sure it’s all fixed too. This one also needs to be ready by morning, so I’ll leave it to you to get everything ready.

It seems like his "Chief," likely the boss of his job, is demanding a lot of work from him, and Bokuto is struggling to keep up with his work. On the whole, it seems like Bokuto is kinda just struggling to cope with living.

You’re overdoing it, you’re already broken

I was having such a hard time, I was trying so hard

That's what Orekoto comes into the picture.

Orekoto killed ??? people.

We don't know how many people he may have killed! The video is... pretty nonspecific about it. There are definitely multiple mannequins that he smashed, which for sure implies multiple.

Based on MeMe, I thought it was only one person, just because it seems like he only hid one body. Based on the new audio drama, I don't think he killed multiple different times, either.

Es: Who did you kill? Orekoto: Just someone who was walking around nearby. Es: … How many did you kill? Orekoto: Can’t remember. I was first born back then, you know. It’s kinda fuzzy.

If the murder happened right around when he was "first born," it would make sense if it's only the one time, right? It's possible that this is meant to refer to a broader time frame and I'm taking "first" too literally here, but I still think it's a definite possibility that he only killed one person.

It's gonna be hard to get a confirmation on that one, since it seems like Bokuto and Orekoto don't know the actual number. Still, we can look at the crime out of context of the body count and try to determine our forgiveness of that.

Neither Bokuto nor Orekoto are coping well with the guilty verdict.

Bokuto is, understandably, distressed. He's aware enough to realize that things have changed and that something must be happening while he's "sleeping," but he still seems to have no idea what's actually happening or who Orekoto is.

Notably, in both MeMe and Double, Bokuto is seen reacting to Orekoto in at least some ways. However, the way it's portrayed, I don't really think that's a lie or feigned innocence in any way. My best guess is that it's just using the visuals of what actually happened while showing Bokuto's distress with not knowing what's happening.

Either way, Bokuto was heading straight for a mental breakdown before accidentally committing ??? murders and getting told he's guilty for it by a weird mystery prison, so it's not surprising at all that he's faring poorly.

As Orekoto hypothesizes in the audio drama, the amount of stress Bokuto is under is actually why we've seen Orekoto fronting so much more now. Orekoto exists to help Bokuto escape from the stress of his day to day life, and given that Milgram has become extremely stressful, Orekoto fronts a lot.

Orekoto isn't doing super well either, though, likely as a result of the toll everything is taking on Bokuto. He exists and did what he did solely to protect Bokuto, so the fact that it's causing Bokuto stress and potentially endangering him definitely isn't something he'd be happy about. The MV focuses on this pretty heavily at the end.

The audio drama tells us that Orekoto is perfectly willing to own up to his guilt and take the blame for what he did. He's very clear about Bokuto not having done anything, though, and insists he has no idea what was going on. He was only dreaming.

I have no idea how the end of MeMe plays into this video.

I interpreted Orekoto handing Bokuto the death card as a moment where Orekoto shows Bokuto his existence and letting him know about the murders, but like I said, I don't really believe Bokuto knows anymore. If that's the case, though, I have NO clue what that scene was supposed to mean. I can't really figure out how to piece Double and MeMe together, and based on how little I feel like I got out of Double, it concerns me to just disregard MeMe-based theories entirely.

That being said...

VERDICT: INNOCENT

Please vote him innocent. For pretty much any reason I can think of, an innocent verdict is better.

Orekoto is right when he says that Milgram clearly instructs us to judge Bokuto specifically; Orekoto isn't a prisoner in regards to restraints or rules, but Bokuto is. If you're judging based on forgiveness, if Bokuto truly didn't know, it's hard not to forgive him, even if he arguably shares guilt.

Mikoto in general is probably more likely to have a further mental breakdown if we keep applying pressure with a guilty verdict, which in turn makes him more likely to lash out in stress again and kill another prisoner. We can't restrain Orekoto, who would likely continue fronting in the face of a guilty verdict, and we already know that his high-stress coping mechanism is killing whoever walks by. It's the safer option to vote innocent.

And then there's the fact that I just, like... want to help him? Genuinely forgive him? I don't want to vote Mikoto guilty. There's no point, and I just disagree with it. I'm pretty firmly in the innocent camp on this one, and based on the votes, it seems like a lot of people agree.

#milgram #ミルグラム #admin venus #mikoto kayano #theory #milgram theory #this is kinda short and doesn't have a lot of insight #my bad but also i got nothing #i'll try to figure out how meme and double connect at some point #saturn and i are also planning on going through a bunch of the hard to read text and making a post about what it says/what we think it says #hopefully soon #lmk what you think #anyways mikoto inno sweep

[venetianwindow]

5 lessons from my first year of university

Introduction

Recently I've been reflecting on my first year of university while mentoring younger students at my institution. Speaking with them got me thinking about what valuable lessons I took away from that crucial time. I decided to make a post about it! These are generalised advice that I hope will apply regardless of your area of study. I'm considering an architecture/design school-specific post for the future -- let me know if there is interest in that. :)

🪴 1: Know all your deadlines.

Staying on top of your assignments is vital, especially during the most hectic exam/submission periods. I suggest having a calendar to keep track of all your upcoming deadlines. Either physical or digital will work fine; I personally use a combination of both. It's also worth finding out about your deadlines as soon as possible. Your modules may provide you with a termly overview early on - if you receive this or something similar, make good use of it to plan ahead.

🪴 2: Ask questions.

There is nothing embarrassing about asking your professors/tutors when you don’t understand something! It saves you from worrying about the knowledge gap in future study sessions. Don't wait for anyone to ask -- often someone else will have the same question, but if both of you think the same and neither step up, neither of you will get an answer. Be brave, it's worth it.

🪴 3: Use all the resources at your disposal.

There are a lot of advantages to being a university student -- namely, you have a plethora of academic resources available. For one thing, make the most of your libraries as much as you can. If you're looking for a text, your university library catalogue should be your first port of call; very likely you will find it there. Similarly, get ahold of any online journals that your university account can access. Academic papers are brilliant research resources. Outside of campus, see what your university ID can get you -- apart from student discounts, it can also give you easy access to some external institutions that may hold useful resources for your studies. Find out what's available and make note of them, you never know what might come in handy!

🪴 4: Find some comradeship.

Here I am specifically speaking of making friends within your programme/course. Depending on your cohort size, this may be easier or harder. There will be times when everything piles onto you and you're busy to no end. In those moments, having comrades to continue onwards together is crucial for the basic needs of staying sane. Mutual support goes a long way, so try to build some relationships with others studying the same subject as you. As people in the same boat, they will understand your academic struggles and worries. Some may even be able to help you out and/or offer useful advice to alleviate your stress. (That being said, having friends outside of your subject can be useful when you need to destress and get away from your daily toil. A healthy mix of both is the best solution.)

🪴 5: Engage with your studies proactively.

The university experience is highly autonomous; you get as much out of it as you put in. Not only is it the first taste of independent living for many people, but it is also a time when you are fully responsible for your academic pursuits. Go out there and explore! Engage in activities outside your classes that speak to your interests in your field. Read outside your prescribed reading list. Volunteer for a charity that organises events to your tastes. If you don't know what you're most interested in yet, that's fine -- use this time to try new things and find out what that is! Being in university is a stage of life brimming with opportunities. Seek and you shall find.

Thanks for reading! 🌟

☞ studygram

#studyblr #studyblr community #archiblr #architecture studyblr #study advice #study tips #study motivation #uni studyblr #study habits #studyspo #study inspiration #student life #venetianwindow #heyzainab #studyvan #astudentslifebuoy #nihaohoney #myhoneststudyblr #learnelle #heypeachblossom #problematicprocrastinator #starrystvdy #heydilli #lookrylie #bulletnotestudies

[wildpeachfarm]

I think now it's word against word The thing is why would Caiti leave out stuff from her story. Like that there were more people in the room than she claimed or that she wore a 21 year badge (Which is important regarding her thinking it's weird because of the age difference). Cause every lie makes it harder to believe for me (I'm a victim myself, so I know how important it is to tell the whole truth). And if that's not true why would George make those people up as they aren't relevant in the story? I'm glad he showed screenshots of texts of them being fine after that and, like he said, it could be something that she regetted afterwards which is completel valid. It's hard to proof who of them is telling the truth about her showing how uncomfortable she was or not. That's on everyione to decide themselves what to believe. However, if there were so many people in the room, including her best friend and Dream (where it is confirmed he didn't know about anything at all), how did NO ONE notice that she was so uncomfortable? Were they all too drunk or did she overplay it well? Those are all things that, without videos or so, can't really be proofen for me and will always be a 'he said, she said' kinda thing I'm glad he decided to not actually stream it but instead make a video so it would be calmer and the Screenshot would be easier to show though. Also him mentioning that her friend group openly dislikes/hates his friend group is valid cause it's something a lot of people just ignore. Harry once already tried to make Dream look like a freak with THE SAME SCENARIO and now almost same scenario is happening to George. I'm conflicted and will see if more comes out or if any proof comes out or what other people say. Right now I will continue watching him as I feel comfortable doing so but I also completely understand when others don't want to and stand by Caiti

yeah I understand why everything was brought up and why he thought what he did. I genuinely think everyone here is just a victim of the situation and it was a bad mix of alcohol, strangers and friends in a room, and body language that either was misinterpreted or made out to be something it wasn't in the moment

#ask #anon

[k-evans-reads]

In Living Color

Chapter 7

Summary: When Natalie Marton, lead character designer for Buzz Lightyear, meets the voice of Buzz, Chris Evans, the sparks are undeniable. But when their work pushes them away from each other, both physically and emotionally, will the sheer differences between their worlds be enough to force them apart?

Pairing: Chris Evans x Pixar Animator OFC Natalie Marton

Word Count: 4,010

By: @k-evans-writes and @ourfinest-hour

We do NOT give permission for our works to be reuploaded, translated, or reposted on any other site. Our work is our own.

Warnings: None.

Previous | Main Masterlist | In Living Color Masterlist

June 2021

Nat glanced out the window of her San Fernando apartment from where she sat on the couch, seeing the bright sunshine streaming in through the windows and able to hear the chirping birds outside, but it didn’t seem to lift her low spirits. It had been three weeks since Chris had gone to Europe but somehow it seemed so much longer. Having everything change and finally discussing the elephant in the room the morning of his departure was crappy timing, but Chris leaving had been even harder than she’d imagined it’d be. It’d given her the space in her mind to fill with doubts and worries, scared he’d come back only to cut things off with her or simply stay in Boston for months on end, unwilling to even see her. But a simple look around her apartment quelled her fears, seeing the two bouquets of flowers he’d sent her this week, remembering the others that had been delivered to her office as well, and his quiet, low voice murmuring “I’m crazy about you, Nat,” echoed in her mind. All it took was that and the memory of their never-ending text thread, even despite the nine hour time difference between them, to feel confidence flood her. 

But it still felt so far away until she’d get to see him again, not even halfway through their time apart. It felt so much easier during the week when she was able to focus on work, her brain being occupied with her tasks, but the weekends were hard. So often in the spring, they’d hung out together, either at Chris’ home or Nat’s apartment, on the weekends, that the sudden free time was incredibly lonely. Which is what resulted in her still laying in bed at nearly noon on a sunny, warm Saturday. As if on cue, her phone pinged and she instantly grabbed it, smiling widely when she saw Chris a text from Chris. 

Nat liked his message before tossing her phone back down on the bed, sulking back into her emotional funk. She mindlessly clicked through the channels on her television, trying to find something to watch, settling on an episode of Friends, then once it ended, she switched over to her streaming service to turn on her comfort movie. But before she could even click play, her doorbell rang, making Nat’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. She hadn’t been expecting anyone but decided to climb out of bed, throwing on a sweatshirt before opening the door and finding a white bag sitting in front of her door. 

Nat looked down the hallway for the sign of anyone but found it empty, only making her more curious than before. She quickly scooped up the bag and closed the door with her foot, not even being able to wait until she could put it on the table to pop the plastic container open and find some fresh tacos, a smile on her face instantly but it wasn’t from the food. It was because she knew exactly who it was from. 

Her phone buzzed with a text from Chris, but she ignored the message – likely telling her he was back in his room – to instead hit the “call” button, holding the phone up to her ear and she dug further into the bag and found containers of guacamole and queso for her, both of which she loved.

Chris answered the call but Nat cut off his greeting, asking, “You sent me lunch, didn’t you?” 

She listened as he chuckled to himself, something creaking in the background as he sat down. “Well I couldn’t let you go hungry, now could I?” He replied, his voice amused as she munched on a few tortilla chips and grabbed a plate from the cabinet. 

“I don’t think I would have starved,” she muttered, rolling her eyes to herself. “In fact with the way I’ve been emotional eating lately, I’m sure my jeans would appreciate me missing a meal so my ass could fit better in them.” 

He made a noise of disagreement at her words, but his voice was light as he shot back, “I’ve seen the way your ass fits in jeans and it’s pretty fuckin’ perfect if you ask me,” 

“At this rate, by the time you come home my ass isn’t going to be fitting into any of my jeans,” she muttered again, sitting down at her island and putting the call on speaker phone as she reached for a taco. 

But Chris’ low chuckle was nothing if not mischievous, and his words matched as told her, “That’s fine with me, because I prefer you without them anyway.” 

“You’re trouble,” she murmured, pausing to take a bite from her taco. She listened to him on the other end as he moved around a little, wishing for nothing more than to be next to him right now. “And I really miss you.” 

“I miss you too, Nattie. I miss you a helluva lot.”  

Those words made her heart clench because she knew without a shadow of a doubt that he was telling her the truth. She could hear the vulnerability in his voice and having him be so honest and upfront with his emotions was something so refreshing and unlike what she’s experienced with any other man before. He told her about his day, about what he and Scott got up to in France after he’d slept in, exhausted from the long few weeks from home and his own bed. But while she tried to listen to him, she couldn’t help but relish in how much it felt like he was there, right next to her, drinking a beer and eating a taco, nudging her with his elbow every time he told a joke, smirking at her every time she rolled her eyes at him. She missed him, so so much, enough that it nearly hurt.  

She had finished the food and put away the leftover queso and was now heading back to lay in bed as he was laughing about a mix-up with their Uber that night. She couldn’t help but remember how miserable she’d been, not even an hour ago, having been laying in this bed, stewing in her thoughts and missing him. And while she still missed him, almost more than she had before, if that was possible, she was… happy. She was content, and she felt as though he felt the same about her, and it felt good. It was sad and lonely right now, but it felt good. “God, I just love talking to you, Nattie,” he murmured, his low voice rumbling right as she slipped underneath her duvet. “I just… enjoy you.” 

And in that moment, those words felt like she’d been hit with a ton of bricks. Her stomach clenched in knots and instantly tears sprang to her eyes, those words bringing out so many emotions that had been buried deep inside her so long. She had always been the black sheep of her family, and although none of them had ever made her feel anything but loved, she knew she was different. She wasn’t strong and steady like her dad. She wasn’t level-headed and wise like her eldest sister, Heather. She wasn’t intelligent and driven like Alex. She was Natalie… She was emotional, sensitive and had a big personality, and was everything that her family wasn’t. 

She knew that she was a lot to handle. Nat knew she wasn’t easy from her passionate and intense emotions and had felt for so long that those were flaws in her, thinking back to Shane’s words that often were dismissive and insisted only on talking to her when she had “calmed down” and “stopped being dramatic.” She had always felt as if she was lucky Shane put up with her personality, working so hard to tone it down to become more rational, less of her artist brain taking over. But somehow Chris hadn’t made her feel that way. He made her feel that he actually liked those things about her, rather than simply tolerating her and it was something she truly never even entertained being able to have in her life. 

But here he was, so effortlessly expressing how much he simply enjoyed… her. And there was nothing that touched her heart more than that. But it wasn’t just the fact he was saying that, it was the fact that his actions had shown her just how much he valued her. It wasn't because of the flowers or the random gifts like today, it was because of how much time he always carved out of his day for her, even if it meant waking up early after a long night of shoots to catch her before she went to bed. 

Her voice was quiet, barely above a whisper when she admitted to him, “I miss you so much.” 

“I miss you too, Nattie,” he replied, a deep longing in his voice. “What are you going to do this afternoon?” 

She shrugged, picking up her remote and turning her television on again, the screen flipping onto the info page for a movie. “I was just going to lay in bed and watch Casablanca,” she told him, her thumb hovering over the play button. 

But Chris interrupted her as he rushed to tell her, “Don’t start it yet, let me get it up first,” his voice slightly muffled as he moved around in his own bed. 

She couldn’t help but smile from where her head laid on the pillow, phone on her chest while she waited to hit play until he said he was ready. The two stayed on the phone the entire duration of the film, sharing their thoughts in key points, crying at all the same moments, and sharing the experience together, simply enjoying getting to spend time with one another despite being on different continents. 

Nat had been so caught up in talking about nothing with him that she hadn’t even realized the time, shouting out an expletive when she saw the time and quickly apologized to him, saying she had to go and she’d be back in an hour. 

The phone call ended hurriedly as Nat pulled on a pair of bike shorts and a t-shirt, running out the door after she jammed her feet into a pair of Birkenstocks. The drive to the Burbank Airport thankfully flew by, and soon she found her sister in the arrivals pick-up, waiting near the curb with her bag. 

Nat guided her Izusu Trooper to the curb, parking it in front of Heather and jumping out to greet her. She wrapped her oldest sister in a hug, squeezing her as she said, “Heather! I’m so glad you’re here!” 

“Me too,” Heather replied, quiet as she hugged Nat back, before they moved to load her things in the trunk. “Although I’d be a lot happier if I was here just to see you rather than go to this boring conference all week.” 

“Well I’m going to break you out of it early a couple evenings and we’re going to Disneyland,” Nat smirked as she closed the hatch, heading back to the driver’s side as Heather went to the passenger.

As they sat in their seats, Heather looked at her with a relieved grin as she said, “Thank goodness.” 

They were quiet as Nat drove them back onto the freeway and Heather sent her husband, Ryan, a text that she’d found Nat. “Are you still planning on coming home for Ella’s birthday?” Heather asked, eyes bouncing between the wide freeway and Nat.  

Nat scoffed, knowing she’d had the date circled on her calendar for weeks. “Are you kidding? Like I’d miss a unicorn themed birthday party?” She asked Heather, almost incredulously. It was the one thing she’d been looking forward to since Chris left, excited for the chance to go home for a weekend. She’d be in the home stretch after that, with just over a month until Chris wrapped filming and came home. 

“The girls are so happy you’re coming,” Heather interrupted her thoughts, causing Nat’s attention to shift to her two nieces, who she adored and missed so much. “And so are the rest of us. We all got so used to having you around last year that it just hasn’t felt right now having you home since Christmas.” 

“It’ll be so good to come home, it’s been lonely here lately,” Nat admitted quietly as she shifted in her seat. 

“The girls have been missing you like crazy,” Heather added, pausing as her phone buzzed. “Especially Lily. We’ve been trying to get her a little more out of her shell by putting her in some activities.” 

Nat frowned, listening to her words. She’d always known – everyone in their family had – that Lily was the tough nut, the shy one who didn’t like new situations or new people as much, but she’d assumed that no news had been good news. “How’s that been going?” She asked Heather, glancing over at her as she changed lanes. 

“We tried soccer and she cried the whole way to practice. Then we tried gymnastics and that only lasted two sessions,” Heather recalled, but then paused and smiled suspiciously at Nat. “But now we put her in an art class and she’s loving that. She came home the other day and said she’s learning how to be an artist like Auntie Nattie.” 

Nat’s shoulders slouched and tears burned her eyes, threatening to spill as she listened to her sister. “Heather, don’t make me cry while I’m driving!” She finally replied, smacking Heather lightly with her right hand as she stared at the road. 

Heather smiled, shoving Nat back playfully before she twisted in her seat to face her. “I was talking to Ryan the other day and I think we’re going to bring the girls down in September and do Disneyland,” she informed her, then shrugged and added, “I’m going to see if Alex and Zach want to bring Carson and you know dad will come.” 

Nat nodded, already making plans in her head as she told her, “Just tell me when and I’ll take the week off.” 

“Ryan’s just waiting to hear back from his boss so I’ll let you know,” Heather promised. “I just want us to do more things with all of us together.” 

Nat exited the freeway, stopping at the light right outside of her apartment complex before she turned into the parking lot. “I’d really love that,” she whispered.

Heather watched Nat carefully as they grabbed their things, but nothing was said until they were inside Nat’s apartment. “...Dad told me what you said when he was down here with you… about being lonely,” Heather began as she rolled her suitcase into Nat’s room, turning to meet Nat’s eyes concernedly. “He’s worried about you, Nat.” 

But Nat shrugged, biting her lower lip as she insisted, “I’m okay.” 

“Are you really? Because dad wasn’t very convinced.” 

“No, I am,” she repeated, then shrugged as she remembered the way she’d felt only an hour ago while she was on the phone with Chris. “It’s just been getting back in the groove of things after being home so long in the pandemic and it’s been an adjustment. But I’m happy, Heather, I promise.” 

Heather gave her a look that showed her confidence in Nat’s answer, but soon all was forgotten as they settled on the couch to watch The Parent Trap. Nat welcomed the distraction from the questioning from Heather, but within an hour of her arrival, Heather turned her head, leaning an arm against the couch and asked, “Hey, what ever happened with that guy? Chris, right?” 

Nat sighed, knowing she had a lot to say but just wanted to enjoy the night with her sister. “I’m going to give you the whole story but it’s a long one so I’ll tell you over breakfast tomorrow,” she told her, shaking her head. 

Heather raised an eyebrow, an amused look on her face as she mentioned, “Sounds like it’s going to be a good one.” 

“There’s a lot to tell,” Nat began, but then shook her head again as she smiled a little. “But I need you fully awake to hear it all.” 

As they turned their attention back to the movie, within minutes Nat’s phone vibrated incessantly against its place on the coffee table, the screen telling her Chris was calling. She accepted the FaceTime call, fully intending to quickly tell him that she’d call him back tomorrow, but seeing his tired face on the other end of the line, so handsome despite that mustache above his upper lip caused her to linger. 

She couldn’t help but smile, seeing him halfway propped up in bed, one impossibly thick muscular arm behind his head and the other holding up his phone, resting it on his stomach and letting Nat see his bare tattooed chest that she could vividly remember running her hands across. She tipped her screen slightly away from Heather, not intending to hide Chris from her but wanting to have the chance to tell her what had happened and who he was before this, but she didn’t get a chance to say anything first. 

“Hey I know you’re busy but I’m just headed to bed and wanted to call you real quick,” he told her quickly, his eyes glancing off screen as he messed with his pillow for a moment. “I just miss you Nattie, and I wanted to hear your voice.” 

Heather sat up across the couch from her, her eyes wide as she whispered, “Wait, is this him?”  

Nat turned the phone so that Heather couldn’t see him, her eyes bouncing between Heather’s amused, excited look and Chris’ tired eyes on her phone. “Um yeah, but I’ll just be a second,” she told him, her voice sounding weird even to herself. 

Heather all but whined at those words, her voice hushed as she told Nat, “No, no! I want to see him.” 

Chris’ brows furrowed as Heather’s voice carried over the line, his voice quiet as he asked, “You got company, Nattie?” 

“He calls you Nattie? Stop, that’s so cute,” Heather gasped, her voice a little louder as she watched Nat. “I want to see him.” 

“Sorry, am I interrupting?” 

Nat rolled her eyes, sending a glare Heather’s way before she looked back at Chris, informing him, “It’s just my oldest sister.” 

“Heather’s there?” Chris asked, sitting up as he reached for something and then pulled a shirt over his head, jamming his arms through the sleeves quickly. 

Heather had a smirk on her face as she listened to the conversation, making Nat kick her leg lightly. She ignored Heather’s laughter as she told Chris, who was turning on the bedside lamp, “Yeah she’s here for a conference this week.” 

“Turn your phone, I want to see,” Heather practically ordered. Nat waited until Chris nodded then turned the phone as she scooted down the couch. She held it in front of Heather’s face, watching the phone as Chris waved a little awkwardly. “You’re shitting me right now.” 

She smirked a little as Chris laughed loudly and Heather’s jaw dropped, rushing to defend herself and tell her sister, “I was going to tell you tomorrow.” 

“You’ve just been casually keeping it a secret that you’re dating Chris EVANS?” 

“I said I was going to tell you tomorrow!” She repeated, her voice rising as she took her phone back with a frown, but it didn’t stay long as Chris laughed again at their mini-argument.

Chris smiled at her, but then cut in and said, “It's nice to meet you, Heather. I’ve heard so much about you and your family from Nattie.” 

“I wish I could say the same about you, but don’t worry, I’m going to get some details out of her before the night is over,” Heather laughed as she shook her head to herself. 

“I don’t mean to interrupt, I just wanted to call and say goodnight,” Chris sighed, laughing a little as Nat all but glared at Heather. “Can I call ya’ tomorrow, Nattie? I have a night shoot so I’ll be around most of the day.” 

She turned her attention back to Chris, nodding and telling him, “I’ll call you in the morning.” 

“Nice to see you Heather,” Chris called, waving a little as Heather did as well. “Goodnight, Nattie.” 

She wished him a goodnight just before he hung up, then tossed her phone onto the couch cushion next to her with a sigh as she leaned back, unsure what to say given Heather’s recent revelations. “Okay, what the hell? How is it that you didn’t mention any of this?” She asked loudly.

“In my defense, I did tell you about Chris,” Nat told her, handing her hands up innocently as she stared at Heather.

Heather rolled her eyes, scoffing as she corrected her, “You failed to mention it was Chris Evans. That’s kind of a big deal!” 

“That’s why I didn’t want to mention it. I didn’t want it to be a big deal when I wasn’t sure what was going to happen with him being in Europe to film for a few months,” Nat admitted, biting her lip nervously as she remembered those fears. 

Heather tilted her head, looking at Nat curiously as she spoke. “He called you just to say goodnight and hear your voice… so I think you can be sure,” she told her, leaning an arm on the back cushion of the couch as she looked at her younger sister. “How do you feel about him, Nattie?” 

Nat sighed, unable to help herself as she smiled and admitted, “Heather… he’s incredible.” 

Heather all but scoffed again, joking, “Well duh, just look at him.” 

“I mean, I’m not complaining about that,” Nat assured her with a short laugh, but then waved a hand vaguely. “But it’s so much more than that, Chris is… one of my best friends.” 

Heather’s smile turned genuinely happy for Nat, and she reached out to touch her hand as she told her, “That’s the way it should be.” 

Nat nodded, swallowing some emotion away as she confessed, “I just have come to see that I never had that with Shane. I never felt like we were friends.” She paused, reaching for the box of tissues on the coffee table as she shrugged and wiped her eyes. “I never felt like he enjoyed spending time with me… and looking back I see that I never felt like he even enjoyed me unless I was doing exactly what he wanted.” 

Heather’s face fell as she listened to Nat’s admission, and Nat knew that despite having never told any of her family that feeling before, it was more than likely a known topic of discussion among the other Marton members. They hadn’t been shy in telling her after she and Shane broke up that they weren’t the biggest fans of him towards the end, but Nat could only guess how long they truly felt that way. “But you don’t feel that with Chris?” She asked Nat quietly, a protectiveness in her voice. 

She shook her head, a pleased, but also relieved smile on her lips. “I feel like Chris likes me,” she told Heather, shrugging. “He makes me happy that I’m me, rather than embarrassed.” 

And the matching relieved smile on Heather’s face told Nat all she needed to know about Heather’s gut feeling as she said, “That’s the way that it should be, Nat. That’s how it is when things are right.” 

Heather’s simple words echoed in Nat’s mind as the characters in the movie arrived at the hotel, capturing the older woman’s attention. But Nat couldn’t help but stare at her phone, a tiny grin on her face as she saw a text from Chris, apologizing for the interruption and hoping that she enjoyed Heather’s visit. And for the first time in nearly a month, she felt at ease and content with life, not just with Chris. 

A/N: We can’t wait to hear your thoughts!!! Thank you SO much for reading.

#in living color #chris evans story #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fanfic #original female character #chris e #chris evans ff #cevans #rpf #chris evans x original character #original content #chris evans x original female character #real person fanfiction #real life chris evans #real person fiction #chris evan fanfiction #fanfic #chris evans writing #writing #chris evans x ofc #ofc #chris evans x oc #chris evans x reader #chris evans x female reader #chris evans fluff #chris evans x smut #chris evans smut #chris evans imagine #imagine #christopher robert evans

[kaneondi]

Ruffle Cuff Text-Based Instructions

I know people learn different ways, sometimes by following instructional steps from text based explanations or by having a visual aid. This will not have a visual aid, but if you guys would like one, I will def rewrite this post with pictures.

Step 1: Make a 2 x Base cuff in any colors you like!

Step 2: once your 2 X is done, either string to a top connector bead or tie some elastic on next to a connector beads

(connector beads are the beads that well, connect everything, theyre usually the center of an X)

Step 3: Imagine youre making a rotating cuff essentially and go to the area where you need to make bumpers. (if that's a better explanation, it's the top row of the X base) the first go around is to string 3 beads (instead of 5) through your connector beads and go all the way around the top of the cuff. should look like it's got little pyramids or spikes on one end when youre finished. Step 4: route your string to come out of one of these points from the bead at the very tip of the point and now we string five beads all around, going through the mini spikes

NOTE: with this cuff, it's a game of when to pull tight and when to let your elastic be looser, the looser your elastic, the floppier the cuff, but you do want it to have some structure with tight string to keep it flared out!

Step 5: after you've strung 5 beads around, it should look like the start of a carousel cuff. You're gonna go around again, this time still with 5 beads, the cuff should look a little dorky at that point, dont worry, you're doing it right lol it should look like a big disk on one end of the cuff.

Step 6: now, bring your string to the tip of the 5 beads and string on seven! beads, this is where the cuff has the potential to become floppy so dont *tightly* pull, but make sure it's not flopping around.

Step 7: string 7 more beads, still going through the center of the tips of all of the spikes. once youre on your second round, it becomes rounder instead of pointy.

Step 8: so the last step is to string 7 more beads and go around the entire cuff. dont worry if they look a little odd, it's going to. and the 7 beads should round off the edges instead of creating spikes. once youre at that point, you can tie it off and wear it. or some of yall crazy people would want to continue it.

Step 9 (optional): if youre going to keep going, you need to make your increments in ODD numbers. like dont string 8 beads, because then you'll be off by a bead. so if you want to go past 7, i would recommend to start stringing 9 beads as you go around. or make a more dramatic leap to 11 beads which should help to round it out more, but it will get more round as you go, rather than spiky.

when wearing it for the first time, you kind of have to push the ruffle down for the desired effect bc otherwise it can just look like on big disk on your arm. you kind of want to shape it into being a ruffle, the stiffer your cuff is, the harder time youre gonna have getting the ruffle to lay down nice so remember! not too tight! but a little tight for structure

you can use this photo as a reference for where youre supposed to put 5 vs 7 beads. it should also form some X's similar to an X based cuff, but those are also just connector beads

WARNING: making this all white can be tricky if you dont count your beads right, you may want to make your connector beads a different color as an easier guide.

I hope these text based instructions provide useful, please shoot me an ask or DM, or comment on this post if you would like an instructional video, i can attempt to shoot something on my phone to show the instructions.

#kandi making #kandi patterns #kandi cuff #kandi tutorial #scenecore #kidcore #emo #kandicore #kandi #kandi kid #plur

[jakesduskwood]

take me by the hand

Pairing: Jake x Fem!MC

Genre: Hurt / Comfort, Post-Episode 10

Summary: Following the reveal of The Man Without The Face, MC is a little too worried about Jake. So she does the only reasonable thing she can think of. Heads to Duskwood to find him.

EPISODE-10 SPOILERS AHEAD!

[ A/N: Hello :)

I just started this blog to talk about my love for Jake / post fanfics I might have written after / during my playthrough of Duskwood. So if you would like to talk about the game / Episode 10 / theories / anything at all, feel free to send me a message / ask :)

Anyway, this is a fanfic I wrote Post-Episode 10. ]

I love you.

The realization hit me a little later than it probably should have, but I did. I loved Jake. Perhaps I knew before. No. I definitely knew before. Jake had told me he didn’t trust easily. He hadn’t. Not until me. Even then, it took time to break down his walls. Get him to trust me. Enough to tell me his name. That Hannah and Lilly were his sisters. His whereabouts. That he loved me.

What if that was the last thing we said to each other?

After everything—everything we’d been through, after Richy, after Jake’s promise to meet me in Duskwood when all of this was over—we were so close. So close. We had risked too much for it to end like this. He had protected me too much. And if—if he didn’t make it out of there, I would have nobody to blame but myself. After all, he had gone into the mine in my place. Gone into the mine to find Hannah, but Alan found Hannah and Jake was—No. I couldn’t think like that. It had only been minutes. Minutes since I’d heard Richy tell Jessy he’d been the MWAF. Minutes since Jessy’s cries had died down in my head. Since my own cries had died down.

Richy. Who I’d considered a friend. Who I’d mourned when he died. Who I’d told to go comfort Jessy when she was attacked by the Man Without A Face. Who I’d like I was responsible for. If I had only begged him a little harder not to go into the woods—but no. No. He was the one behind it all. He was the one who had kidnapped Hannah. Who drove Amy to her death. Who lied to the people who trusted him. Who betrayed us. And now—

Suddenly, a message on my phone came through.

CLEO: Richy’s dead.

My heart skipped a beat.

DAN: What?

CLEO: There was a fire. Explosion.

CLEO: Suicide, they think.

I leaned my head back against the wall. Richy was dead. I didn’t know how to feel. I didn’t know if I wanted him to make it. If I thought it’d be easier. He had asked if I believed he was sorry, but my answer remained the same. I didn’t know. I didn’t think I could forgive him either way. But I did care about him. I did consider him a friend.

Jake.

My head snapped up. Jake was in the mine. Well, maybe. He told me he would text me when he made it out. My phone showed he was still offline. No time to panic. He would be nowhere near Richy. But—Jake was the one who told me the mine was in danger of collapsing. And even if he made it out, who was to say he wouldn’t be caught the minute he did? Alan was right. There was no way the FBI were there for Hannah. And they had probably placed men at every exit. He had promised me he wouldn’t be caught, but how sure could he be? How could he possibly know the next move they’d make when he was trapped in a crumbling mine with no phone service. A stray tear slipped down my face. If Jake didn’t make it—I would bring Richy back to kill him myself.

Your fault, my head screamed.

I love you.

I love you, too.

“Come on, Jake.” I whispered harshly. “Don’t do this to me.”

Jake is offline.

Shit.

Maybe it had only been a few minutes, but it felt like hours. Felt like he should have been out of that mine already. Felt like he should have been texting me to reassure me he was fine. That he’d made it out. That they hadn’t caught him and that we would see each other soon.

I needed to see him.

I needed him to take me into his arms and reassure me the way I had wanted him to since we had first started this thing. Sure, at first, he was a little suspicious. Maybe suspicious wasn’t the right word to use. Just…cautious. Like he didn’t trust people. But I had broken down his walls. Gotten to know him. Gotten to fall in love with him. I didn’t care that I didn’t know what he looked like or that I’d never heard his voice or that he was wanted by the government. I’d fallen in love with him—with who he was.

And he loved me back.

Well. Apparently, Jake didn’t know one thing about me. It would only take a few hours for me to get to Duskwood. I’d looked it up on my maps at the start of all of this—before Jake had begged me not to go. He would probably be mad at me. It didn’t matter. His life was in danger. That was something worth breaking a promise for. Besides, if I got to see him—I would take his anger and frustration with a smile. Kiss it off of his face.

I took a deep breath and texted the group back.

ME: They haven’t found anybody else, have they?

LILLY: No, [MC].

I didn’t know whether to be relieved or cry.

Well.

Forgive me, Jake.

But I’m going to Duskwood a bit early.

———————————————————————

The road to the Grimrock Waterfall was crawling with numbers of police. The aftermath was still fresh. I assumed Hannah was long gone, probably settled into the hospital with her friends by her side. I’d visit her eventually. Maybe I’d figure out how I knew her. If I even did. Perhaps she had sent the wrong number. Maybe Richy had set us up. Maybe I would just have to live with the not knowing.

It didn’t matter, anyway.

Hannah was safe. Richy was dead. If I repeated it enough times in my head, maybe I could make it sound true. Make the nightmare we’ve been living in go away. Maybe I wouldn’t have to look over my shoulder every five seconds, wondering if someone was watching me. If I would be the next victim. Maybe we would be free to live now.

I could have been in there. In the mine. Blindly feeling my way around. Maybe I would have met Richy at the waterfall. And then…would he have killed me? Maybe I would’ve seen his face and he would’ve taken me hostage too. Drugged me and put me on a never-ending video loop to play for Jake and the others.

A figure caught my eye by one of the trees. My breath hitched for a split second until I realized it wasn’t who I thought it was. But it was somebody. I made my way over, stuffing my hands in the pockets of my sweater. For late-May, it was surprisingly cool outside.

“Thought you’d be at the hospital.”

The figure turned. Wheels squeaked underneath him. “Too many people right now. Figured that I would…” He motioned down at the wheelchair. “This was as far as I could go. Think they would kill me for tryin’ to go further anyway. What are you doing here?”

I shook my head. “Don’t know yet.”

“I don’t know if I believe it.” Dan shook his head. “Richy. Didn’t think he could hurt anyone. To know that…and I was the one who—”

“You can’t think like that.” I responded. “Dan, he would’ve hurt somebody. You were just doing what you thought was best. Nobody can blame you for that. Besides, he had plenty of time to get help before he died. He did this to himself.”

He hummed. “Maybe.”

“How’s Jessy?”

“Went to the hospital with the others. She wanted to be alone, but I don’t think anyone was ready to let her. They were close, you know. Always felt like I had to compete with him for her. I think she would have picked him in the end.”

“She cares about you, Dan.” I promised. Then, after a minute: “And Hannah?”

“Thomas said she’s as okay as she can be. Think she’s more in shock than injured. To be held by someone you trusted, someone you considered a friend, that’s rough. It’ll take time. I think she’s also dealing with the fact that everyone knows about Jennifer now.”

“It doesn’t matter,” I reminded him. “It doesn’t make what Richy did right.”

“Yeah.” He shrugged. “You think he’s still here?”

“I don’t know where he is,” I answered. “He said he would let me know when he was out. It says he’s been offline for hours but…I don’t know.”

“You plan on staying here?”

I shrugged. “Probably, at least for the night. Guess we’ll see where it gets us. Don’t think I could sleep much either way. I still feel like I’m being watched. Like Michael’s going to turn up at any moment and say it was all a joke. That it was him.”

“I think that would be too easy.”

I smiled weakly. “Probably.” My smile faded. “Dan? I’m sorry, about—”

“I shouldn’t have asked.” He waved a hand. “I know I’m not the first person to. I knew you were involved with Hackerman. Just hoped you weren’t. But it makes sense. The truth is, I don’t have a reason to dislike him. Just think you could do better than a life like that.”

“I have my demons too, Dan.” I told him. “Besides—I think I would go anywhere in the world if it was with him. We can still have that movie night, though.”

He grinned. “I look forward to it.”

“I don’t know why I came,” I crossed my arms over my chest and rubbed them, suddenly feeling like an idiot. “He’s not coming out here, no matter what. There’s cops everywhere. I just thought he would text me and I could find him or—sounds like one of those stupid romcom movies now that I think about it.”

“Maybe stupid romcoms are your thing.”

“No, they’re not.” I laughed.

“Maybe they are,” He said again. “Don’t you wonder something?”

“You’re going to have to be more specific.”

He looked up at me. “That guy over there’s been glaring at us for ten minutes.”

My heart skipped a beat. My head snapped up to where Dan’s head was tilted toward the edge of the woods. There was a figure, hidden just enough that you wouldn’t be able to see them without actually looking for them. Their dark attire blended into the trees. Their face was tilted down and hidden beneath their black hood. Still, I could tell that Dan was right. Their posture was rigid and stiff. Turned toward us like they were unhappy. At first, I thought it was Michael, maybe coming to laugh and tell us that it was him all along, that he had framed and killed Richy and that he was coming to kill me next.

But then my phone buzzed.

Jake is online.

No. No way. All of the emotion I felt inside of me came bursting out at once. Tears poured down my face no matter how furiously I wiped at them. Jake was alive. He was alive. And Hannah was safe. And Richy was dead. Richy was the MWAF. Michael wasn’t coming back from the dead to tell us it was him. And I hadn’t cried about that yet. No. I had. I had cried while I was on the call with Richy. Watching him bleed out from a gunshot wound. I’d cried as I watched Jessy come to terms with the realization. I’d cried when I realized I didn’t know if Jake was okay or captured or if he was dead and I would never see him again. I cried during all of it.

But not like this. I hadn’t felt my limbs shake with each gasping breath as I realized that my final words to Richy had been nothing but resentment. As I realized just how serious the situation was and that never seeing Jake again was an actual possibility. And yet—here he was. And that made me sob harder. The guy who loved me was standing there, and all I could think to do was cry and shake because drawing attention to him would cause them to find him and I could not handle that when I just got him back.

“Please do not pass out on me.” Dan warned. “It’ll be really hard to catch you.”

Somehow, that made me feel worse. I sniffled and wiped at my eyes, feeling incredibly weak and stupid for someone who just realized the guy she’d drove two hours to see was actually alive and not dead. My phone buzzed in my hand.

JAKE: I told you I would contact you when I got out.

JAKE: Please do not cry.

I snorted slightly. Yet—it gave me more comfort than anything had in a long time. To know that we did it. That we found the culprit. Sure, it was someone we trusted, and sure, we lost someone we considered a friend tonight, but it was over.

JAKE: Come here.

I looked down at my phone and then back at the hooded figure. I didn’t want to risk it, but when I saw him take a step toward me, I gave in and hurried toward him without even a quick goodbye to Dan. It was okay. He’d understand. I plowed into the figure at full force, nearly knocking him off of his feet and burying my face in his neck.

He was the perfect height. The kind where my head fit perfectly against him, where I could hear his pounding heart against my own, feel his face buried in my hair. I probably looked a mess but I didn’t care. I tightened my grip around him, burying my tears in his hoodie and soaking it with my face.

“Jake—”

“It’s okay,” he whispered back.

Oh. His voice was soothing. The kind you could fall asleep to. The kind you knew you were safe around. He kissed the top of my head and I melted. I remembered when I watched Richy die, the first time. I told Jake I wished he could take me in his arms. Much like he’d done now that Richy was actually gone.

I pulled back to look at him, reaching up to cup my hands around his cheeks. He moved his head to look at me and I got a glimpse of him for the first time. And—hell—he was handsome. I knew he would be but seeing it for myself was a whole different experience. The moon reflected off of his face and lit up his eyes, the soft reflection in them that gave me butterflies like I was back in school again. He gave me a soft smile.

“Hi,” He whispered.

I smiled. “You kept your promise.”

“I told you I would.”

I tightened myself around him again. Like, maybe, now that he was here, all my worries could go away. It didn’t work. Still, it was a nice thought.

“Did you read the group messages?”

He shook his head. “Haven’t had the time.”

“Richy’s dead.”

His hands around me stilled. “Oh. [MC], I am so sorry.”

“Jake, we were wrong.” The words felt weird on my tongue. “Michael wasn’t the MWAF. It was Richy. He—he kidnapped Hannah.”

“What?”

I shook my head. “I don’t feel as relieved as I should.”

He pressed another kiss to the top of my head. “I’m here now.”

“Will you tell me again?” I begged.

“Tell you what?”

I pulled back to whack him lightly across the chest. “You know what,” I told him softly. “I have to hear you say it.”

“I love you.” He tilted my chin up so he could press our lips together. It was short and sweet and made me crave more. There would be time for that later. “I would do anything for you.”

“Yeah, we have to talk about that.” I warned him. “We’re going to have to compromise. I cannot have you risking your life for me whenever you feel like it.” He laughed softly.

“We’ll talk about it.” He hummed. “So, you still want a life with me?”

I smiled. “Jake?”

“Hm.”

“I love you, too.”

#duskwood #duskwood everbyte #duskwood game #everbyte studios #duskwood jake #jake x mc #duskwood fanfiction #jake duskwood #mc duskwood #duskwood jake x mc #duskwood mc

[welcome-back-to-hoimycraf]

Xornoth was used to working long nights like this. He was quite familiar with being alone with nothing but his thoughts and his paperwork, writing into the early hours until his hand cramped and he burned enough candles to light a small house; tonight was no different. Or, well- it shouldn’t be any different- yet his brain, ever the traitor, decided to fail on him.

He sat slumped over the desk, quill in his right hand and chin in his left. Somewhere in the recesses of his mind, a voice that sounded suspiciously like Elwyn tutted at him to fix his posture, lest he start tomorrow (or today, rather) with a cramped back. He ignored their voice, turning his attention back to the text swimming in front of his eyes. He’s read and reread and then triple read this single-page document, and even now he still couldn’t grasp the topic. None of the words registered in his mind, falling on deaf ears- or rather, blind eyes in his case. The flickering of the dying candle didn’t make it easier, either, the light’s movement making it even harder to distinguish words. Somehow the moonlight was too bright for his eyes, yet too dim to illuminate the room, and he was all too aware of the hair that continued to slip from his ear into his face and each feather out of place or broken in his ruffled, unkempt wings.

Yet, he needs this done- if only so he can move on to the actually important documents that require his attention. Xornoth grumbled something to himself that even he wasn’t sure how much of were real words. Why couldn’t he focus? He was the King, dammit, and he’s letting a task as simple as reading stump him? He has more pressing matters at hand that he should desperately be attending to-

A soft knock on his door cut through his thoughts. His first instinct was to snap at whoever was on the other side before he sobered up, assuming it was probably Elwyn or someone similar coming to force him to bed. The King’s assumptions were swiftly proven wrong as the offending knocker cracked the door slightly without confirmation to open it in the first place. Any grievances he had with the mystery person died in his throat when he caught sight of the familiar tawny-blonde hair and gentle blue eyes. “Pearl?” He blurts out as the person in question slinks her way inside, gingerly clicking the door shut behind herself. 

“Hey,” she spoke softly, her tone reminding Xornoth of trying to keep his horse calm, which he both appreciated and hated, “Elwyn said I could let myself in- that ok?”

He makes sure to soften his stony front before he speaks, “Of course, you’re always welcome to bother me.” Truly, she was. Pearl was always a sight for sore eyes, and delightful company at that. He rarely disliked his time spent with her, yet usually his contempt was caused by outside factors- like tonight. While his heart was screaming to curl into her arms and drift into a peaceful slumber, his brain nagged at the King to finish what was required of him. The lack of sleep didn’t help his grumpy disposition, either.

While the elf was lost in his thoughts, Pearl had noticed his disheveled appearance, complete with his tussled, tangled hair and rumpled clothes. Her voice brought him back to the present, “How long have you been up?”

Xornoth cringed in response. He already knew she wouldn’t like the answer. “What time is it?”

“Almost four!” The ruler shouted in disbelief, eyes growing wide.

“So… about twenty-two hours?” He grimaced, readying himself for her scolding.

Pearl sighed and put her head in her hand. “Xornoth, we’ve talked about this- you can’t keep yourself going forever or you’ll burn out-”

“But this is different!” he barked out, “I’m not even making excuses- Rivendell isn’t at peace anymore, my people need me to be working as much as I possibly can.”

“Not if it means givin’ up your well-being, ya dummy,” she chides, concern evident on her face. “How are you gonna keep Rivendell safe if you’re passed out in the middle of the day?”

His irritated silence urged her to continue, as she knew her words had gotten through his thick skull, “Listen, how about you go to sleep for tonight, and you can continue in the morning, yeah?” She paused. “Or- later in the morning.”

Xornoth shook his head, feathers puffing up in a clear sign of displease. “No, I can’t. I need to finish this frivolous paperwork or nothing will get done.”

The blonde scoffs, rolling her eyes and crossing the room to put a soothing hand on his shoulder. It seemed to work, as his shoulders visibly loosened. “And what’s so urgent about this ‘frivolous paperwork’?”

She must’ve struck a nerve, because his shoulders stiffened once more. “These stupid {Revelers},” the King growled, clenching his hand tightly around his quill to the point Pearl distantly worried if it would break. “They popped up recently. It started out with petty crime; robbery, vandalism- Things we wrote off as teenagers being teenagers,” he punctuated with a sweeping gesture, “But then it built up into terrorism, all politically motivated,” he sighed, placing his head in his hands to rub at his temples. “They’ve even spread to Grimland- and you know how hard it is to get through to Fwhip.”

His partner snorted at that, covering her mouth in an attempt to muffle her laughter. “Yeah, I could imagine.”

Thankfully, her reaction made his lips twitch up in a way he couldn’t help himself to. “He won’t even acknowledge they exist! Says he’s ‘got it handled’,” he paraphrased in a, frankly, horrendous impression of the Count. “He obviously fucking doesn’t but he won’t admit it- won’t even let me offer to help!” He sighed, slumping harshly against the desk. “I honestly kinda hate the guy,” he finishes with a grumble. 

Pearl’s chuckles landed her with a glare. “What are you laughing about?”

She crossed her arms and smirked knowingly. “C’mon, you like him more than you want to admit,” she teased, earning a quickly hidden blush from the other. “You two get along better than you both think; you’re both hot-headed, stubborn, and grumpy; you’re practically a match made in the heavens.”

“We are moving away from this topic.”

Pearl stifled another laugh, but gave in. “Can you at least just take a break? You’re obviously not getting very far so maybe clearing your head’ll do you some good.”

Xornoth huffed. “I… suppose that’s reasonable,” he muttered. 

“Great!” The elf was given no warning before he found himself being lifted into her arms in a sort of bridal carry, yelping as his face warmed. Though she was strong and he was confident she wouldn’t drop him, he clung his arms around her neck for dear life, which she would most definitely tease him about later. But for now, she just set him on the loveseat he kept in his office in case of late nights like this one, pressing a kiss to his forehead- which he did not blush about. 

He tried not to lay down lest he fall asleep, but it seemed like Pearl had other plans. Plus, it’s hard to not give to the weight of a highly determined wall of muscle laying on top of you. And when did a bit of cuddling ever hurt anyone? No, having your legs tangled with someone you want to spend the rest of your life with while they’re running their hands through your hair has never made anyone sleepy before. 

A soft snoring coaxed Pearl to open her eyes. Spotting the sleeping King put a fond smile on her face as she picked him up to bring to his room. She changed them both into pajamas, being careful not to wake her sleeping beauty, before tucking them both under the covers. She was thankful he had some night clothes for her due to all of their sleepovers, and she burrowed her face into his neck. Hopefully Elwyn would let them sleep in.

@deityoftherain HAPPY BIRTH!!!!

#fanfic #my fanfic #empiresfic #tales of the empires au #empires smp #empires s1 #empiresshipping #pearlnoth #fighting buddies #xornoth #pearlescentmoon #santa perla

[argoxnautilus]

besties i think i am hitting a point where i am no longer able to know as much as i should

i can't understand schoolwork anymore. social stuff is harder to parse, and i think it's because i have to do school AND job AND everything else. the stuff i should be well versed in by now, like politics, doesn't make sense to me no matter how hard i try--when i go past any of the basic stuff, reading political theory just makes me feel like a fucking...hp lovecraft protagonist, i just can't picture any of it.

most of my social interactions are either scripted ahead of time or have me feeling like a text generator, putting words together with no understanding of what they mean with only a vague idea of what i'm supposed to be going for. it's easier online, i think because i only have to worry about the words and not both the words and how i'm saying them, but both irl and online i always eventually slip up despite my best efforts to do it right. i copy mannerisms and behaviors in the hope that it pleases other people, and that backfires too--i lost a close friend this year because a behavior i'd learned from 2 separate friend groups and thought was the right behavior to make was actually bad and hurt them to the point they no longer speak to me at all.

i can't understand the nuance for that stuff either, no matter how hard i try. either i did it wrong, or i did it right, and...god, everyone else just seems to know what it means. i don't. i can't, i think. i don't understand any of it.

does this come across? does anyone understand what i mean? i'm scared, i need help, i'm scared that i'll always be reliant on my parents or other people who want to hurt me, i'm scared i'll make too many mistakes and that the world will throw me away. i'm scared because i haven't sat down and drawn for months. i'm scared because i can't tell if people are gonna help me or hurt me. i'm scared because the fucking english paper i was supposed to finish last semester doesn't even have a rough draft because i can't remember how to write essays anymore. might be autistic, might've finally hit my disturbingly low ceiling of achievement, might just be fucked in the head. i may get a diagnosis for autism at least, but that takes time, and...idk if anyone will even care. or if they'll hate me for it. idk if that even makes sense. my coworker and manager and i have a betting pool on it. i learned this week it was supposed to be a joke, but they didn't laugh at me about it, so that's chill. feel really stupid about not realizing though.

anyway, i think 4 paragraphs (5 with this one) is enough. sorry for putting a long post about my issues on your dash. here's a cat for scrolling this far

#argothoughts #vent sorry #long post

[jasper-is-autistic-old-blog]

howdy! today i wanna talk about the aac system i use and go over how i use it

im currently using the app Coughdrop on an Amazon Kindle Fire 7. the version from 2022 i believe, which i think is the most recent. it was the least expensive new tablet i could get.

it's in a foam case that looks like Spiderman! i chose all black because it's unobtrusive and goes with my aesthetic but it was also available in red with black eyes and some other colors

i currently use a board called vocal flair 112. i previously used quick core 112 and this is similar, but has a built in on screen keyboard. which means i get less buttons on the home page but it's fine because i found myself pulling up the keyboard frequently to fill in the gaps even with that many buttons.

here's a screenshot, i haven't edited this page, i just use it as the default:

i don't actually make it speak aloud often when im out in public. the person with me who's supporting me (usually my mom) reads my screen if i need to talk to someone else. this is almost purely out of anxiety. the fear that someone will not hear me the first time, that they wont listen or won't understand, that someone will overhear a robotic voice and stare, etc. but it's an improvement over my previous method of texting my mom, pointing at menus, and mumbling or whispering until i either gave up or she finally managed to hear me.

i use this feature in coughdrop to have her read the screen:

it's found under the "repeats" section. it makes a large button you can press to voice the selection or you can have someone else read it.

i also quickly wanted to show my two "advocacy" boards. one is a premade board that ive edited and the second is made by me from scratch. i think im going to combine them eventually, but ive been lazy about it

these don't reflect my current "public use" pronouns, but that's fine.

my speech has always been pretty intermittent and unreliable in some situations, but more recently ive experienced some skill regression that makes it harder than ever to use verbal speech. even when relaxed and comfortable, typing or using aac is easier for me. and when even slightly stressed or overwhelmed or even overly happy or excited, it's very hard to impossible to get any words out.

im hoping to get better about actually using the voice feature instead of showing people my screen. the only time ive ever actually used aac to communicate with a stranger i showed them my screen. i have a lot of anxiety about not being heard which im sure comes from the fact that my voice doesn't always work and that's pretty scary at times. it seems im both afraid of not being heard and being heard but being made fun of or dismissed. im not sure what would be worse.

anyway, sorry for the anxiety tangent.

im hoping to get a strap for the case soon so it's easier to carry around. i tend to have several things with me at all times, my phone, talker, Nintendo switch, my small backpack, and a stim toy or comfort item. it's nice when i manage to cut back on what im carrying and it works out well, but sometimes i just need all those things to get through a situation.

i don't actually own the coughdrop app. im using a free version. it times out after about 15 minutes and you have to exit and enter again, as well as other premium features not being available. i was hoping to eventually save up for it but the price has increased recently to the point where it is out of my budget. maybe if i get a job eventually? even then im not sure if i can justify the cost. the monthly price also went up, which sucks. c'est la vie.

if you have any questions at all, im happy to try to answer! inbox or ask box or reblogs or anything works.

thanks for reading!

#autism #autistic #black autistic #aac #aac user #actually autistic #augmentative and alternative communication #autizzy #coughdrop aac #aac device

[norris-lando]

i'd forget all the ways that we're broken

George Russell x reader

inspired by the songs Brush Fire and Stay by Gracie Abrams

warnings: angst, breakup, maybe some typos

author's note: Okayyyyy, so the ending feels a little weird... But maybe I could do a part two?? Idk. Let me know your thoughts and I hope you enjoy! :)

word count: 2.9k

started as a simple lie, thinking love had chose us

we would talk into the night and nobody noticed

and i held on to every word, couldn't let you go and called it hope

now i'm so low, i can't ignore, we only ever made it worse

Tears streaming down your cheeks, you sat on the couch next to George. Your eyes shifted to the door where two suitcases filled with your belongings stood up waiting for someone to collect them.

The air was thick and filled with melancholy. Questions lingered around, directed at no one, never expecting any answers to them.

"So, this is it, huh?" George took your hand in his, his thumb moving back and forth on your skin. "You're just gonna walk away?" He was hurting and you could hear it in his voice.

You couldn't blame him, though, you hoped that he knew you were hurting, too. Probably as much, if not more than him. It wasn't like this was something you wanted to happen. You loved George more than words could describe. But your breakup had become inevitable. There was nothing either of you could have done, that was something you were certain of.

You knew full well what you were getting yourself into when you and George started dating. You knew he would have to travel a lot. You knew the time you would get to spent together would sometimes be very limited. With you still studying, you couldn't exactly up and leave every weekend to travel to the other side of the world to go see your boyfriend.

But you thought you could handle it. You were sure that love would overcome any trouble life might throw your way. You really did think that the whole long-distance relationship thing wouldn't come between you and George.

At some point, something just changed. Traveling became tough. The long plane rides back and forth, the continuous hotel nights, it all just became too much. The idea of seeing each other was always something the both of you were looking forward to. But the lengths you had go through to be able to spend time together became a burden. An obstacle that kept growing bigger and bigger, and harder to get past each time.

Sighing, you wiped the tears from your cheeks.

and all along you're promise is that you're changing

boy, you know what to say

before i turn away

your words hit me like a hard rain in l.a.

George had made a lot of promises in the hopes of keeping you. He didn't want to let you go. And to him, the traveling wasn't such a big deal. He had grown accustomed to it already anyway, all thanks to his line of work.

"We can call and text and face-time," George told you one night after you had brought up the idea of taking some time apart for the first time. It had come as a shock to him, leaving him hopeless as he tried to come up with every possible thing he could do to make your relationship easier for you.

Suddenly he was also promising to be the one who flew back to you. "I don't mind flying," he said, "that way you can always stay home. Focus on school and tests and everything else."

You were drowning and George threw you a lifeline.

And for a while the promises, his words, they worked. You believed him, or at least you wanted to. He kept telling how this was only temporary. That soon enough you would graduate and your school and workload that came with it, would be a distant memory. A speed bump in your relationship.

But what had once worked and had once seemed like a plausible option, soon became unbearable. It was like the waves around you were growing stronger and stronger and it became harder and harder to cling to the salvation George had sent your way.

scared to turn and look behind

thinking i'd see you hurting

and even when i close my eyes

i feel like the burden

It became harder each time to face George. You felt sorry for him. He was busy with his schedule during race weekends and seeing him come home to you, all tired and exhausted wasn't fun for either of you. The guilt of having to put him through all that made you question if there was anything left to fight for.

Whenever George came home to you, weary and worn-out, you often made excuses for as why you couldn't spend much time with him in your shared home. Sometimes it was a test you had to study for, other times a group project you had to work on with your friends. Whatever the excuse, it was always another desperate attempt to not see the man you loved in pain and hurting.

This led you to feel like a burden. You couldn't bare to see him hurt but you couldn't bare the thought of losing him. Nothing you did seemed right in your mind. Everything was always wrong. Whether you were with him or away from him.

You racked your brain trying to come up with an answer as to what to do. You couldn't be with him but you couldn't be without him. It was an impossible situation, for the both of you.

but i'm not yours anymore

everything you broke is ash and smoke

now i'm so low, i can't ignore, we only ever made it worse

"We can't- I can't keep doing this anymore, George." You avoided his gaze and kept your eyes trained on your hands that sat on your lap. The tears kept coming and they were stinging.

You wished so much you wouldn't have to feel this way. A part of you wanting to put the blame on George, or someone, just anyone else but yourself. Cause in that moment, as you were trying your hardest to walk away, all you could do was blame yourself.

The guilt you felt from second-hand forcing George to travel back and forth between your home and wherever his job took him came back like a tidal wave.

Suddenly you were back in that freezing cold ocean, trying to cling to any last bit of hope. But it was getting so, so cold and you started feel so tired. The thought of letting go felt so inviting. Like a warm towel wrapped around you as you sat on the shore, safe and sound.

You got up from your seat, your knees almost buckling under your heavy weight of emotions. Trembling, you made your way to your suitcases by the door.

George followed you. He took your hand in his, forcing you to turn to face him. The two of you stood silent for a moment, facing each other before George pulled you in for a warm embrace. He was once your lifeline but now he was just a lighthouse, guiding you in the storm, giving you directions to avoid the rocky coasts.

"I will always love you, I hope you know that," he whispered to you but it sounded more like he was trying to convince himself of that.

You didn't need to say anything to him. You knew that deep down George knew this was for the best. That no matter how much you wanted, you just weren't compatible. You were two pieces from different puzzles - the kind that you think will fit only to realise they were the exact opposites.

And in what felt like the blink of an eye, you were out the door. George had to face the reality as you slipped from his grasp and he was left alone in a home that now felt so empty.

2 years later

"Come on, y/n," your friend had pleaded when she told you she had gotten two tickets to Silverstone GP. "It'll be fun! Besides, it's been like... forever since you and George broke up. It's fine for you to go to a race. I'm sure he wouldn't mind."

You flinched at her words. George hadn't crossed your mind in so long but still the thought of even catching a glimpse of him made your skin shiver.

You hated to admit it to anyone but it had taken a ridiculously long time for you to get over him. And though your friend was probably right about George being okay with you being at the race, you weren't sure if you were. It felt like an invasion to go, to risk running into him by some God-given miracle.

You took a moment to contemplate, to go over every pro and con before you finally agreed. "Yes!" Y/f/n was jumping up and down, hugging you. It had been so long since you had spent time together doing something you both enjoyed, so it was nice to finally focus on your friends for a change.

-

At some point, as the days grew closer to the GP, you couldn't help but feel nervous but excited at the same time. You told yourself that no matter what, this would be a fun little trip. A great way to relax after all the intense studying and cramming you had done while still studying.

you told me something when i left but i don't remember

maybe cause all i could do then was stare at the floor

The day was finally here. The two of you making your way around the area, taking it all in. It felt so surreal to think that there was a time when all this wasn't just a distant memory for you, making it so much more emotional to be here now.

You thought back to the time when you weren't just another fan coming to a race. You thought about all the drivers, how they had become your friends when you were dating George. How you had all fallen out of touch just as quickly as you had first become acquainted. Flashes of memories made your head spin.

Something, or more like someone, pulled you out of your train of thought. A familiar voice was calling out to you.

"Y/n?" You saw Lando make his way through the sea of people.

You scanned around you, looking for your friend but she was out of earshot. She had wondered off on her own just a few moments before and you were cursing her in your mind. Why did she always have to disappear just when you needed her to save you from an awkward situation?

Lando was in front of you now, extending his arms out to give you a hug. He managed to pull you in just before you could dodge. "What are you doing here? I haven't seen you in so long. I missed you. Does George know you're here?"

The swarm of questions took you by surprised. You and Lando held onto each other for a moment before you pulled away, giving him an apologizing look.

"Uh," you started as you tried to find answers to his questions. "I missed you, too," you finally managed to say. It was true. You had missed him. And feeling Lando embrace you in a warm hug brought back all the good memories — including the ones about George.

"Oh, there you are! Where did you—" Y/f/n was cut off when she saw Lando give her a small wave. "I didn't realise you were in the middle of something. I'll let you two catch up." She was pointing a finger at you as she said, "you come find me when you're done." With that, she dissappeared again.

You and Lando chuckled as you watched y/f/n walk away from you, leaving you to catch up with everything that had happened.

It was nice to talk to Lando. During the time you two had known each other, he had quickly become like a brother you had never had growing up. So even with all the time that had passed, it felt like you two had always stayed in touch.

"Look, I should get going," Lando said suddenly. You gave him a nod. "But if you want, I know there's someone who misses you. I can tell George you're here."

You thought it over. Not sure if it was a good idea. But hearing Lando tell you that George missed you... It made you want to at least give it a shot — see him, talk to him.

"Yeah, I think I'd like that." There was a shy smile on your lips and your stomach was filled with butterflies. What had you just agreed to, you wondered.

Lando smiled back at you and gave you a small wave before he turned around and went on his way.

i held myself cause you wouldn't all wrapped in my sweatshirt

wondering if you even noticed that that one was yours

Time seemed to move slower as you waited for the race to be over. As you waited for George. Lando had texted him, telling him you were here, which in turn led George to text you and ask you to meet him.

So, here you were, questioning every choice you had ever made in your life. Wondering how those choices had led you straight to here. It felt weird. After all this time, after the emotional roller coaster you put yourself through when you walked out on George.

-

The air was getting chilly as the day had started to slowly turn to night. You had wrapped an old sweater around your body, almost as if holding yourself in it like secure blanket. But there was an empty feeling hanging in the air. The sweater giving off a whiff of a familiar smell.

George.

As your brain registered the smell, he appeared in your line of sight almost simultaneously.

A part of you wanted to run to him, wrap your arms around him and hold him without ever letting go. But you stopped yourself and chose to only embrace him in your mind.

He was standing in front of you. The two of you looking at each other without saying a word. Scared of what might come of it. What if you say something wrong? What was even the right thing to say? I miss you? I love you?

"Hi," you whispered.

He said hey back and a small chuckle escaped his lips. "You still have my old sweater."

It was said in a matter of fact kind of way. It didn't hold any deeper meaning or yearning for something more. Something about George's words made you feel like this was a bad idea.

"Yeah, I-"

He cut you off, "you always looked better in it than I did." His sentence held more emotion this time.

The two of you talked. At first it was just small talk back and forth, topics varying between family, your studies, his job. It felt nice to talk to him about every day things. Something about it making everything feel so normal - like you had never really broken up.

could you hold me without any talking

we could try to go back to where we started

i don't even have to stay but if i woke up with you in the morning

i'd forget all the ways that we're broken

A silence fell between you. The air started to feel thick with anticipation before you finally worked up the courage to say what you had wanted to say since you first saw him.

"Look, I'm really sorry," you sighed, "about everything. I never meant to hurt you."

Your words felt empty. Like the meaning behind them got lost somewhere in the wind. It felt stupid to apologize but what else were you supposed to do.

Something came over you. You forgot all the bad things and all the reasons that made you think it was a good idea to breakup in the first place.

You found yourself clinging to George. You held onto him for dear life and you didn't ever want to let go. It didn't matter that it took him a few moments to react to your hug. It didn't matter that a few years ago, the last time you held each other, your relationship ended in burning flames. In that moment, you two were whole again.

catch myself thinking about you more than i should

and maybe i should've but i never told you i miss you

i almost said it but don't know if you feel the same

"I've been thinking about you so much. And when Lando told me you were here, I just knew I had to see you," George confessed. His face was buried in your shoulders so the words came out muffled but you could hear everything he said.

"I wanted to call you so many times. To tell you I love you and that I miss you but... I was afraid you didn't feel the same way. I didn't wanna bother you, in case you had moved on."

You listened carefully everything that George said. You wished he would have told you these things before but you also knew deep down that you two needed time apart.

The two of you held onto each other, neither of you saying a word. It wasn't needed in that moment. You knew how you felt about each other and nothing could ever come between you two anymore.

Surely, your time spent apart would always be a part of your past but that's all it would be. You had, by some God-given miracle, found a way to each other again. And this time, neither of you would let go.

This time, you would learn and grow stronger together until you would forget the things that once broke you.

#formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #george russell x reader #george russell #GR63 #writinggr63 #writing idforgetallthewaysthatwerebroken

[prayreturn]

accessibility > aesthetics.

it's been said many times, but accessibility in the rpc is a real issue - i have seen quite a few people tag graphics with eyestrain, which is good, but we can do more. particularly when it comes to fonts as screen readers cannot read some of the fonts used and, honestly, the rpc in general tends to over-format their posts. aesthetics is one thing, but you really don't need 7 different fonts and styles in your posts ( personally i only really use it for character names so the post doesn't get thrown into the char tags even though it's untagged, thanks tumblr! ) though most often i see it used for headings which i think is fine in small doses - but it's quite common to see several fonts, styles and colours in peoples posts which is far less accessible. spacing is a complicated matter as personally it makes things much harder for me to read and i know several roleplayers who have said the same, but have also seen people argue that it makes things easier for others to read. it differs person for person, so it's best to ask! similarly, whilst it's rare i do see it still - posting your replies as images completely disregards accessibility.

below is a list of those that it can read and those it cannot - when in doubt, it doesn't hurt to temporarily use a screen reader to double check or asking the person you are writing with if it's a thread. make your writing and your blog accessible and ask if those you are writing with need any particular formatting in order to assist with any dyslexia or visibility problems. when plotting or discussing threads, it only takes a few seconds to ask "hey, do you need anything specific regarding accessibility or visibility in these posts?"

unfortunately i am unable to test all available screen readers that are available, so if you have any additions do let me know! i have tested on a few screen readers and text-to-speech programs: ttsreader, ChromeVox, Pericles: screen reader extension on chrome and firefox, NVDA (windows), murfai, tts by Readme, Screen Reader by UserWay, Google text-to-speech, NaturalReader text-to-speech and textmagic.

these fonts work:

ｔｈｉｓ　ｆｏｎｔ

these ones may or may not work depending on the text-to-speech or screenreader. they appear to work on textmagic, on Screen reader by UserWay, Pericles: screen reader extension on chrome and firefox, and google text-to-speech. i have tested it with ChromeVox and these fonts sometimes work and sometimes don't for some reaso - if i would suggest that if you are in doubt, ask:

𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒏𝒕

𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐧𝐭

𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗳𝗼𝗻𝘁

𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙛𝙤𝙣𝙩

these fonts do not work with most screen readers / tss:

𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔰 𝔣𝔬𝔫𝔱 ( works with Pericles )

𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖘 𝖋𝖔𝖓𝖙 ( works with Pericles )

ᵗʰⁱˢ ᶠᵒⁿᵗ

ᴛʜɪs ꜰᴏɴᴛ

​🇹​​🇭​​🇮​​🇸​ ​🇫​​🇴​​🇳​​🇹​

ₜₕᵢₛ fₒₙₜ

ᵗʰⁱˢ ᶠᵒⁿᵗ​

𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕗𝕠𝕟𝕥 ( works with Pericles )

𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚗𝚝 ( works with Pericles )

𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝒻ℴ𝓃𝓉 ( works with Pericles )

𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓯𝓸𝓷𝓽 ( works with Pericles )

тнιѕ ƒσηт

t̷h̷i̷s̷ ̷f̷o̷n̷t

those that don't work simply will not read out the words, skipping them altogether if there is text it can read either side of it, resulting in large amounts of text being unread. if you absolutely have to use several fonts or large amounts of text in these fonts ( i wouldn't think so, though ) then please add "captions" below the text, possibly in a blockquote or read-more, where the text is plainly typed so it can be read.

t̸̡̧̪̣̯̼̠̺̠͉̼̍͜͜͠ͅh̷͎̜̠̺̫̘̒͊̈i̸̡͗̔̉̾̚͝͝ṣ̸̢̥̮͚̲͎̣̉̏̈́̂ ̵̮̞͇̪̼̳͈͚͉̻̬͈͑̄̍͌̓͊̽̌̍͆͒͝f̷̡̢̡̫͎̲̻̼̤̪̠̪͍͔͒͌͊̈́̔̄̀̉̈́͛̕ơ̸̞͚̗̣͇̜̫͍͋̓̐͒̓̒͌͐n̷̛̗͍̈́̎͐̌̈͆̂͆͒̒̚ṱ̷̨̤͚̓͑̒͌̒͌̎̀̕͝͝

the above "cursed text" font...kind of works? it reads it out letter by letter, as does t͎h͎i͎s͎ ͎f͎o͎n͎t͎, so i would recommend against using them for anything but short single words.

please keep this in mind and try to make your blog accessible!

#*PSA #tumblr rpc #accessibility #roleplay resources #rp reference #rp resources #rpc resources #roleplay etiquette

[olderthannetfic]

What you mentioned, about the shift to phones and how it affects the ease of writing good content..

"Consuming writing can still be easy, depending on formatting and such, but posting a long, detailed reply often isn’t."

Do you have any more thoughts/posts on that? I tried searching through your blog with similar keywords, but didn't find anything, and it seems to me like you're onto something very important here

--

I can never find anything on my blog either. Haha.

The internet is more accessible now, which is good. I do like that and want to highlight it, even if it has come with some big downsides.

Back in the day, most people were logging on from desktop computers and real keyboards. That's a huge barrier to entry for multiple reasons, but one of the good things it does produce is that a person is often there for more in-depth interactions rather than for a high volume of low-impact ones. If they're touch typing on a real keyboard, it's a lot easier and faster to produce the kinds of long-ass replies I write on here. I've even bought multiple portable bluetooth keyboards because I'm such a fast touch typist and typing on phones or even the ipad keyboard interface is so infuriating. There are certainly people who type much faster on phones than I do, but the top speeds one can achieve that way are still slow compared to good touch typing.

If you're standing in line somewhere, dicking around on your phone, you can read fic if the site adapts properly to phone screen width. You might be reading something just as in-depth and interesting as anybody ever did: fiction, journal article, whatever. If you've got a decent memory, you can use little bits of spare time during the day to make it through something quite complex. Or something long and escapist. Whatever.

But when it comes time to type a response? I think a lot of people either opt for the bon mot, which can take time to compose but not much to type, or they think "I'll get back to that later when I'm at my computer". And the bon mot is clever, but it's rarely nuanced.

If you're more of a phone native, seeing well-crafted writing and not much in the way of comments and discussion furthers the already strong Content Creator-Audience divide. That's the default form of internet culture lately, whereas in the 90s, it was more about DIY communities with more and less talented/famous/popular members. Let's not pretend there weren't popularity contests even then, but things were still different in terms of one pool with a sliding scale vs. two separate kinds of people.

I think a person can write good content on a phone just like they can in all sorts of adverse circumstances. But the more natural way to use a phone a lot of the time is to scroll through things or continue reading something you're in the middle of. These are activities that make sense when your bus ride is only 20 minutes or you've got 5 minutes before class or you're standing in line at a store. Typing something long or using voice to text or whatever isn't really the most natural use of that time no matter how good a writer you are.

I also find, personally, that composing takes more concentration, quiet, and privacy on average than consuming. I can read a fic or knit a few rows on something I'm already working on just about anywhere, but if I want to write fic or cut out and sew up a big pattern, I need quiet time at home, and that's much harder to come by.