#I just can end up crying while talking :'>

[vifilms]

THEY CALL ME HOMEWRECKER

pairing. established!cait x reader ft. older!vi

content warning. eighteen+, some freaky toxic shit, caitlyn lowkey a bad girlfriend, reader a freak, and violet’s just there for a good time, ooc!vi mostly, strap!sex, threesome, jealousy, cheating, some good ‘ole drama, public!sex, slight voyeurism if you squint.

#thank u to my boo @sinstear for helping me facilitate this madness and giving me even more ideas for it. and for @shouyuus for always supporting my gay panicking. still crying about it. as always, eighteen+.

since the two of you were struggling financially, you’ve always stuck by caitlyn’s side. throughout all of her business endeavors, one finally stuck, the restaurant on avenue street, and god is it ever so booming. weeks of hectic hours turn into months of hardly seeing her due to her schedule always being on the flipside of hers.

all of it was so excruciating.

over the past few months, the cracks of your relationship fall over like a tsunami waves, crashing repeatedly into the shore. you try to talk about it with her — the two days out of the week when you actually see her — but she’s always too tired.

too this.

too that.

nothing you do is ever enough. it doesn’t matter if you set the mood just right, candles light with rose petals on the bed, buying a new lingerie set to attempt to peak your girlfriend’s interest.

“baby, it’s been months since we’ve had sex? do you just not want me anymore? caitlyn reassure you she does but makes no move to give you the relief you’re so desperately seeking. deadly kisses turn stale in your mouth, the bitterness of her stagnant need tastes like the dark chocolate on your tongue.

“just—“ caitlyn grunts as she gently shoves you off as her back turn away from you “not tonight.”

you’re so close to cry, to calling this relationship for what is, a colossal failure. deciding to cool down before offering her the proposition, the one you’ve been thinking about for a while now. no matter what you do, you love cait too much to call it quits. you have to fight for who you love, no matter the cost. this is the only choice you can make…right?

droplets kiss your skin, an oversized shirt hits your thighs as your feet pad away from the cool tile, the dampness of your hair touches the cotton as she looks at you, exhaustion written all over her gorgeous face.

“what if we opened this up? let someone…in.”

shyly, you mumble. and you expect some lewd response, anger, a finality to the end but you’re met with relief. “i think that’s a great idea, love.”

but caitlyn would live to regret those words. “just one night with someone else.”

the both of you agree.

all of it happened organically, that’s what you were her for. caitlyn was close and made sure not to hover. the stipulation being the two of you had to be attracted to whoever came home with the two of you. it’s when you spot her, checking you out from the other side of the bar.

“hi, cupcake.” her voice is sultry but her rasp velvet smooth.

“o-oh, u-um, hi—” you readjust shirt, the swell of your breasts threatening to spill from the tight top you’re wearing. she’s the hottest woman you’ve ever seen. soft lines on her face to resemble her age, but fuck, she’s so pretty.

powder-blue eyes resembling the sky as she checks you out from head to toe, unable to keep her eyes off of you. she can’t stop looking at you as you squirm underneath her blunt gaze.

“who’s the blue haired woman behind you? girlfriend? she looks like she wants to kill me for getting so close to you.” with a fierce sense of confidence running through her veins, she plays with the pretty silver chain hanging from your neck.

“she is my girlfriend but we have an understanding.” the nerves from your initial impression of her dissipate, as you step closer to her. “we’re on the hunt for someone to fuck our brains out, especially mine it’s been a little too long.”

"how long?"

the curoisty slips out before she can help herself, eyes falling back on your tits again again as you cross your arms over your chest, tongue running over your lips as the tattoo peeking out from her the underside of her neck.

“long enough.”

but caitlyn interjects, slithering her way as she immediately starts caressing the mystery woman’s forearm. it’s difficult to pretend there isn’t a sting in your chest when she so easily touches someone else without a second thought.

it isn’t fair, that’s all you’ve wanted, an ounce of her affection but it seems it just takes a certain kind of woman to get her going. on that doesn’t love her the way you do, one that’s hotter, sexier, and definitely has more experience than you.

caitlyn is all over her, all night. vi, as you’ve come to learn, is much older than you and cait, more successful than you could ever dream of, and she damn sure knows how to sweet talk. you can’t help but feel a little left out as you sip on your martini, courtesy of vi.

excusing yourself to freshen up, not that you believe either of them would notice, you wash your hands, splash some water on your cold face to calm yourself. it’s crystal clear, she always wanted to have sex, just never with you.

there she stands, proud and tall, with hope in her eyes like she’s found the missing piece of her puzzle. “so, she’s perfect, right? i mean we really hit it off. the both of us, right?”

you nod, “yeah, sounds perfect, cait.” but she’s too fucking horny too nice the clip to her name or the bitterness in your tone. she’ll have her fill and you’ll be stuck on the sidelines, again. she’ll do anything but acknowledge this relationship for the farce it is.

you should have known, all the signs right in front of you to see, and now it all it took a pink-haired goddess to show you the light. she’ll get her pussy wet for anyone who isn’t you.

“great! i’ll tell her. i’m so glad we decided to do this, love.”

love.

the irony of her burning affection nearly causes you to throw up.

still, you’re incessantly scrubbing at your hands, the skin feels raw, the top of your fingers wrinkling like prunes. the last thing you want to do is meet them out there. the gorgeously, very-fuckable stranger who your girlfriend can’t get enough of. you should have just done the right thing, put the relationship to bed along with the rest of your dignity. now you’d have to watch who you thought was the love of your life, get off right in front of you.

then she’s here. vi. with her beautiful face, her cologne that smells of vanilla and mahogany, her perfectly fit body, making you feel more insecure than you’ve ever been.

“you alright, princess? if you have second thoughts just say the word…”

“nope.”

with a violent urgency, you keep scrubbing the soap into your absolutely clean hands, bending over the counter slightly to rinse them when you feel her behind you, gripping at your hips. she reaches over to shut the water off, handing you a few paper towels to dry your hands.

what the fuck is she playing at? why isn’t she sucking caitlyn’s face off?

“i have something else in mind—” vi leans over as her hot breath kisses your ear, “and it has to do with this pretty, little skirt on the floor.”

“oh, vi, we should really go and meet caitlyn, she—” but you can’t talk, not when she starts stroking the silky skin of your thigh, pushing the hem of your skirt up just a hair.

“you sure about that?” vi crawls her playful hand underneath the hem, playing with the panties covering your cunt, teasing your slit through the delicate lace. “i had my eyes set on something i want to try first.”

“o-oh…kay, well, it’s really not the best idea. please, can we—"

“so you really want to princess? something tells me, you’re dying to have this pussy eaten, fucked….stretched. i have a perfect hot pink cock for you to get fucked with, a mouth to please you, and a good set of fingers for you to bounce on.”

before you realize what’s she’s doing, her heavenly hands dip inside your panties, splitting your folds like the red sea; as god intended. she groans in your ear when she not only feels, but hears how soaked you’ve become, hot breath setting your body aflame.

“how does that sound, princess? want me to take care of you?” you grind against her pelvis, back arching into her as she slips a lone finger inside you. you moan so high, it nearly sounds like a scream.

“mmm, shit, ahhh, that’s—”

becoming very aware of the public setting, anyone could walk in the door at any given moment, you try to refute but you’re struggling to find the words, as she curls her finger inside you, establishing a steady pace.

“what? don’t think of caitlyn now. she certainly didn’t care before, did she? let me guess…she left you and your vibrator to your own device, pressing on that pretty clit of yours, hoping she’d jump in but she couldn’t.

“she couldn’t do what needs to be done—” vi bites and sucks at your neck, you crane your body towards her in submission, giving the older woman all the access she needs to tear you apart. “but i can give you whatever you fucking want, princess.”

it doesn’t take anything else before you’re attacking the older woman with your lips, her tongue invades your mouth as she surges for dominance, gripping your plump cheeks through the small amount of fabric covering them.

immediately intertwining your finger through her hair as you tug on her roots, as your skirt rides up against almost rising completely as vi pushes you through the first open stall she sees. not giving one flying fuck who hears her.

“needed you first, you know that? couldn’t help myself as soon as i saw you. god, just you wait until tonight.”

you shake your head as she pushes the your skirt to your hip bones, ripping your panties off with one single rip!

“tonight?”

“yes, pretty girl, tonight. m’gonna make her watch while i fuck you on my cock.”

pressing her knee with force in-between your legs, an animalistic moan tumbles out before you could even stop yourself.

“c’mon, ride my thigh, sweet girl. that’s what you want, hm?”

vi’s strength centers you in like gravity, allowing you to slide further up her trousers, your folds fluttering against the friction, allowing the crease of her perfectly-ironed slacks to push against your soaking pussy.

“god, fuck her for not wanting to fuck you. i’ll fuck you all night if you let me.” vi grunts as she watches your body writhe, tits bouncing as chase your high.

“fuuuckkkkk,” you hiccup, so close as she pushes a thumb in your mouth, effectively shutting your mouth for a moment as you suck on the digit. swirling your tongue around her finger, pretending she’s fucking you with a strap instead.

“such a good girl for me.” pulling off with a delectable pop, she presses against your clit, blissful patterns being traced on your bundle of nerves and just with a few strokes you’re done for. falling fast and hard.

“vi, vi, oh fuck, baby, viiii—” a drawl of her name as she abuses the bundle of nerves, the ache for her full attention and freely does vi give it.

you fall into her chest, whimpering as her incessant need to play with your clit does nothing to help you calm down — all she does is rile you up.

fuck, caitlyn.

not a day in your life had you thought of being interested in someone so much older than you, but god you’d never come apart like that. not so quickly and not ever quite as hard. she knew what you liked without uttering a word.

the swipe of her thumb felt like a stroke of god, as if she was one, giving into your mundane pleasure, helping you close in on what seemed like an impossible finish.

this wasn’t part of the deal. shit, you’re so fucked.

“turn around.” you obey.

a pathetic servant willing to get it’s pay.

she slaps your ass once more, a whimper tumbles and vi eats up every second of it.

“how bad do you want my cock, baby?”

“so bad, please.”

“good. you’ll show me…in front of her.”

—

“just like that princess, fuck, you’re so goddamn pretty.”

violet’s hands steady your hips as you ride cait’s cock, the strap stretching you out to the heavens, vi guides you in perfect rhythm. you know you should feel bad, but you can’t stop staring at vi, her perfect eyes gleaming as you moan out her name.

not cait, vi.

“love—” caitlyn’s voice is drown outed when vi is looking at you the way she’s does, the way you’ve been begging your girlfriend too but she only does when there’s someone else giving you what you’ve been desperately craving.

“how does it feel, cupcake?” vi whispers in your ear, “does it feel good when you fuck yourself on her cock?”

without warning, vi slaps your ass as you jolt forward, the silicone cock slipping deeper within you, kissing your cervix as vi keeps her hand on your lower back, guiding your movements.

“f-feels really good, vi.”

vi kisses down your neck, biting at the skin before she presses her scarred lip against your ear.

“i know it does, princess. been wanting this for months, huh? don’t worry about a thing. i’ll take care of you.”

vi smirks as she sees caitlyn stirring with fury, bold pair of blues ignite under the fire of someone else seeing what is so rightfully hers. she hates this, knowing someone else is talking you through it, touching your skin, soft lips kissing the ample skin of your neck.

truthfully, she’s never been a jealous person. as the rises at the break of dawn and sets in the cool evening, caitlyn truly believed she’s the one for you — no one else could dare compete.

it’s caitlyn and you.

but suddenly it doesn’t feel like the two of you against the world.

it’s vi and you, the anxiety bubbling in her stomach feels catastrophic, so she fucks into you, making you squirm with need. but still, you’re so entangled in vi, you don’t even notice her.

the night hadn’t started the way caitlyn planned — or wanted — but she lapped at your cunt as vi instructed her to do so. she’d been vying for an ounce of her attention. truthfully, she’d settle for either one of you, but the two seem to enthralled with one another to even notice her existence.

but fuck, you’re her girlfriend. only hers.

but when you’re close, you ask vi for permission to come. it’s vi’s whose name you scream out when you start falling apart on caitlyn’s cock. it’s vi rubbing your clit, whispering sweet nothing in your ear as you see stars, it’s vi who pulls you into her lap as you cling onto her for dear life, as if caitlyn’s touch feels poisonous.

nothing makes sense.

when caitlyn thinks for a moment, she’ll get an ounce of attention, vi handcuffs her to the chair across the bed.

“what are you doing?” dark blue eyebrows furrow as her, eye squinting harshly.

“you’ll get your turn, be patient.” vi scolds, but she has no intention on following through on her promise. this is to make a mockery her, to show her exactly what’s she been missing.

in the full nude, she walks over to the night stand, grabbing the harness, and makes sure everything is just right for you — the hot pink dildo protrudes, just as she promised. the pink bush she’s sporting matches deliciously as her happy trail follows up her lower abdomen.

caitlyn wants to curse at the wind when you immediately fall in obedience, commands fly off vi’s tongue and you adhere to her wishes. the first has your mouth wrapping around her pink cock, she gently thrusts, lubricating the plastic with your tongue. your hands twisting vi’s pierced nipples, playing with the silver barbell, taking pride and joy when her breath hitches.

“lay on your back for me, yeah?” vi doesn’t waste another beat.

with reckless intent, she slides in, every inch of her saturated in your warmth. you waste no time, fingers woven through her hair like a thread through embroidery. her pink hair becomes nothing more than a leash for you tug on, each powerful thrust to much, too soon — but you also are too terrified to let go.

"take it, princess. just like that—" violet pushes deep, clinging to her broad back, scratches made in tandem when she delivers a brutal pace. "tell her how much you love my cock."

there she sits, jaw slack, mouth open so wide she could catch flies.

vi can't tell if you she's crying and part of her almost feels bed until desperate pleas of her name fall from sanctioned lips. violet smirks as she looks back at caitlyn, waiting for the inevitable moment of her crumble.

there's only so much one girl could take and violet knew she had to be hitting her limit. soft please of, babygirl, falls on ears that only hears vi's instruction. deviously, violet smirks as she watches caitlyn realizes exactly what as going on.

but it's too late.

you're already far out her grip as your grip onto violet for dear life as you come apart on her cock, moaning louder than caitlyn's ever heard.

you're never loud, even when the two of you did have sex, it's always been quiet.

sweet. soft.

nothing about this is tender as your squirt all over her bed sheet, effectively sending violet over the edge from watching you come, fucking you harder as you moan into her neck, sharp teeth sinking into her collarbones.

to sink the final dagger in her heart, you initate violet's lips locking in yours, a smashing of desire reaches it's fateful end. caitlyn watches as you lose yourself in someone else, someone older, wiser — her stomach churns as she desperately tries to break free of the restraints.

she's been made a fool of, a mere mockery just for wanting to try something you suggested. but the jealousy falls around her, she's not strong enough to watch you enjoy getting your brains fucked by someone who has everything.

for the first time in her life, she feels you slipping through her fingers.

"would you stop touching her? this is over. we're done with you, vi. she's my girlfriend, get off her." bitterly, caitlyn sneers.

"oh, she does?"

with a roll of her strong hips, vi thrusts deep into your pussy, you clench around her, arching your back as you cry out for your lover's touch.

"well, i hate to be the barrier of bad news, but she's not done which means neither am i. so, enjoy the show, cait. you sure have paid a pretty penny for it."

[chrissieshauntedbones]

I'm glad Tumblr exists so I can scream and cry my emotions out about the Fraser's --- I was NOT OKAY with the way season 7 ended.

By now I am used to the cliff hanger episodes and the "what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck" of Jamie & Claire constantly almost, nearly, dying. That's part of their lives. They are fighting for their love and their lives, I get it.

Because of questions I had since I have only ever closely followed the show, with plans on eventually reading the series (when I am not over run with a never ending TBR---The Outlander series being somewhere in the middle of my TBR) I actually conceded with myself, and purposely, read the "spark notes" (combed several reddit threads) for "Go Tell the Bees that I am Gone" because I needed answers that my anxiety could not have left alone.

*sigh*

I know Starz is ending the show at season 8, and that they are choosing to end the show pacing with "Go Tell the Bees...", with strict direction from DG on how to end it amicably, ultimately I assume it's because DG doesn't believe she will be releasing book 10 for some time, and they need to wrap the show.

I just wish Starz would do a follow up once the final novel is released. Couldn't they pull a Downtown Abby? Couldn't they have done some TV movie or limited release show once the final book came out? (I know it's wishful thinking, don't shame me)

I know once the series is over & there is no more Jamie & Claire to devour visually, I will go to the books, and then once that is read through, I know I'm just going to be "empty" and sad for a while.

I know their love is fictional, and that they, are fictional, but I just love their love so much.

My current TBR is mentally exhausting to me. I know I did this to myself, but:

I am currently forcing myself through SJM's "Crescent City" trilogy (it starts so slowly and I've been struggling for months). Once I finished that, I wanted to move on to her "Throne of Glass" series (8 books). So, we're at 11 books there to finish the Mass verse, unless she releases anything new 🙃

Then I planned to move on to the "Vampire Chronicles" from Anne Rice (13 books).

After that, is the Outlander Series. I placed it in the middle in hopes that book 10 might be released sometime soon, but 🤷🏻‍♀️🙃 Book one of the Outlander series is still 2 dozen books away as of right now.

I get reading burn out FIERCELY due to being a DnD DM for 2 campaigns.

I just 😪😩 ... I wish there was more instant gratification with Outlander because I'm a glutton for it.

Thanks for listening to my self inflicted ted talk.

I’m not as brave as I was before ye ken, not brave enough to live without you anymore.

2.13 | 7.15

[slimybeth69]

Part 2- Cave In

Series Masterlist | Part 1

Summary: After the civilized world you once knew came to an end-- the men that survived... well they just take, take, take. Growing tired of having things taken from you-- you have a hankerin' to take somethin' for yourself... and make him perfect.

content warnings: Reader (no descriptions besides having hair that can be pulled) is in a weird mindset; hears voices, talks to herself. non-con/dub-con (if you're looking for enthusiastic consent, ya wont find it here) smut, cock-warming, unprotected P in V, creampies, oral (m&f receiving), rough sex, dirty talk, pussy and peen pronouns, alcohol consumption (altered mental state). Joel wears a shock collar and other various horrible things that would keep him in check-- and he doesn't fucking like it.

Reader warning- flashbacks of readers graphic and sad past!!!

While it looks real pretty, this is a Dead Dove, Do Not Eat. If ya do and then come complaining to me that you ate a dead dove-- I'm gonna fight you. I warned you!

Joel’s mind drifts off to the days and nights he spent teaching Ellie how to play guitar– watching her learn, grow more confident in the way she held the instrument. Then hearing her play her first song is one of his favorite memories. He wonders what her, Dina and JJ are doing right now. 

He wonders if Tommy and Ellie are looking for him– Joel can’t imagine they wouldn’t be. Not after what they did in Seattle a couple years ago. His daughter and his younger brother would come looking for him, and eventually they’d find him- and rescue him.

The three of them- Joel right alongside them, would kill you in the process, he’d make sure of it. 

That’s all he can think about– being rescued and watching you die as you wrap a second layer of duct tape around the oven mitts on his hands. 

As much as Joel hates you, he can’t deny that you’re resourceful. 

With the shock collar still around his neck, and now, two pairs of oven mitts secured to each of his fists, Joel watches you untie his arms from the chair. 

He is stiff, and misses the fucking sun. Joel just wants to the feel the warmth on his face- but he can’t really even think about that now, he’s thinking of all the ways he’s going to fucking knock you out the minute you crawl into his lap. 

He’ll knock the shock collar remote out of your hand, headbutt you– a real one, he’ll go right for your nose and try and break it– then he will wrap his big strong arms around you, and squeeze until he can feel your ribs snap.

He’s got it all planned out- until he hears the sound of more duct tape ripping, and he wonders what part of him you’re going to tape next. 

Joel watches in horror as you tape the remote to your palm, your thumb gingerly laid across the button that would shock Joel probably into next week. You wrap the tape until Joel can barely see the remote anymore. 

You’re more resourceful than he thought, and that’s terrifying. Joel is almost sixty years old– he’s being outsmarted by some insane woman who lives in a mall in what now is the woods outside of Jackson. 

How did you get here? Where’s the rest of your group or community? Joel hasn’t seen a single other person since he got here, and he hasn’t seen or heard you interact or say you had to go meet up with anyone since he’s been here. 

There is no way you’re surviving out here all on your own on peanut butter, raspberries and whiskey. 

“Let me go,” his voice croaks. “C’mon. Y’don’t really wanna do this.” He’s pleading. He hasn’t fully begged yet, not pathetically– which is what you must want to hear. You wanna hear Joel– the big strong man cry and whine and beg for you to let him go. 

You drop the roll of tape on the floor beside your feet, “Got some rules ya’ gotta follow, Mister.” You ignore Joel, taking an inched step towards him. “Number one is ya’ don’t hit. You don’t hit– I don’t zap ya'. Sound fair?" You don't wait for him to reply. "Good. Glad we're on the same page.”

Joel rolls his eyes and is immediately met with an intense muscle spasm throughout the entire right side of his face, and down his neck. It spreads out over his shoulder and through part of his chest. 

It lasts for only a split second, but it leaves Joel panting, his brow already beaded in sweat from just that short electric shock. 

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ– don’t fuckin’--" he starts to warn you with a stern tone and narrow eyes– but he’s greeted by your wet, stare only inches from his. 

Your mouth opens and closes once, twice… three times before any sound comes out. “Stop makin’ me hurt you,” you whine, one single tear falling from the corner of your eye. “I really don’t like hurtin’ ya’-- I don’t wanna do it, so don’t give me reason to, right?” 

Joel glares at you while deep down inside him somewhere his heart twists slightly. 

Awww, look it’er cryin’. Cute lil puppy, alone, out here in the woods–

Joel blinks twice as you crawl into his lap, your soft, warm body pressing against his tentatively, as if you were waiting for him to start fighting you off, to start screaming and shouting at you. 

He wants to so badly, he wants to feel his forehead connect with the bridge of your nose as hard as it can– but it’s like you hypnotized him when you curled up on his lap. 

“Now ya’ wrap your arms ‘round me,” you breathe against Joel’s neck. 

Joel fucking sighs at the feeling, almost wishing you press your lips to the spot directly behind his ear.

Go on, move your arms…

Fuck no! Something is seriously wrong with him, he needs to talk to someone besides you. He knows you’re a bad person; a good person wouldn’t do something like this. 

Joel knows that if he puts his arms around you the way you want him to, he might start squeezing, and keep squeezing regardless of the pain from the electric shock. He’d seize up and wouldn’t be able to let you go, even if he wanted.

That might not be a bad thing though, either Joel would kill you, or you would kill him. It would solve his problem either way– and that was fine because he didn’t want to keep living like this. He couldn’t.

It would drive him fucking insane. He already feels like he is going insane the way he wants to kiss your neck, and suck on the spot where your collarbone ends, and your throat begins.  

C’mon, fuckin’ do it. Ya’ know she wants it, give it to her– make her fuckin’ beg for it first…

Oh fuck, Joel knows that is the unstable part of his brain talking– and he has to shut it out. 

You are Joel’s attacker, his fucking captor– the one keeping him from his family, the one he worked so fucking hard to get back. He might never see them again because of you. He’s thinking of all the ways he could hurt you–to hurt you badly, he wants to see you dead– but all those feelings of anger and hatred flee from his brain when you press the most soft, sweetest, barely-there kiss to his jaw. 

“Thank you,” you murmur, resting your head on his shoulder. The way you sigh and melt into Joel, molding to him, has his head spinning for a whole new reason, and he’s completely fucking sober this time. 

See big feller, ain’t that hard t’just comply.

Joel realizes only then that he has both of his arms wrapped around your waist, holding you close to him, with his cheek resting on your head. 

She ain’t t’bad, right? Smells nice’n sweet, like a pretty lady.

It’s so hard to hate you and want you dead when your soft, sleepy breaths flits across the skin on his neck. 

“I have more movies–” 

“Anything besides the princess movies- please,” Joel sighs, not removing his cheek from your head. “I can’t do the princess movies again, anything else…”

“Do you like Batman?” The action of you lifting your head off his shoulder is the only reason he pulls away from you. “The cartoons?” 

Joel snorts, and nods his head at you. “I do– me ‘n Tom–” Joel stops himself from sharing too much with you for no reason whatsoever, his eyes dropping to your bare thighs. 

It makes his mouth water when he looks at them, even though they’re bruised to hell, with fresh cuts and old scars adorning your supple, and kissable looking skin. 

He can feel you looking at him, waiting for him to finish what he was about to tell you. His eyes flash up to yours when you question him. 

“Who’s Tom? Whatta’bout him?” 

Joel can see your desperation in your face and eyes–they're wide, still slightly wet with the tears from zapping him moments ago. You must want to know so badly, and he decides to use it to his advantage. 

“Get me some meat– anything– n’ I’ll tell ya’.” Joel can’t help but smirk to himself because this is going to work. 

Your eyes light up, and you lean in real close- the tip of your nose pressed against his. “Promise?” 

Joel nods, his eyes locked on to yours, “Promise.” 

Give’er a lil kiss. 

Joel leans forward to do it, but you pull back with your brows furrowed and a scowl on your face. 

“No. Ya’ punched me last time ya’ did that.” You whisper at him, still frowning. 

“Sorry f’that-” Joel starts but you don’t let him finish. 

Your head shakes from side to side quickly, eyes still wide– untrusting, but desperate for something, he’s seen that look before so many times in so many different sets of eyes. After you scramble out of his lap, finding your footing on the floor beside the chair, you look down at him, still frowning. 

“Sorry don’t mean nothin’- not out here it don’t.”

S’okay, Sug. You’ll be fine– Mister-man’s gonna be real thankful. 

“Well he fuckin’ better! I hate gettin’ shot at, I hate havin’ t’fuckin run real fast- I hate that the place is almost three fuckin’ hours awa–” Your eyes fall onto the horizon where the sun is starting to rise just over the mountains in the distance. “Ain’t even get any fuckin’ sleep–”

Oh Sug, it’ll be worth it, he’s gon’ tell you–

Lies. He’s going to tell you lies, and for what!? You almost got shot–

“I know I almost got shot— You don’t think that I know I almost got shot!?” You’re nearly shouting in the woods. “Now both of yous be fuckin’ quiet– m’tired, and I twisted my fuckin’ ankle–”

And it’s the truth, you did twist your ankle when crossing the stream about a mile back, and thankfully the raiders had stopped following you a while ago, but with all the adrenaline it was easy to keep running. That was, until you slipped on those stupid fucking rocks.

It takes you thirty more minutes to get home, and by the time you do everything hurts, and you just want to go to sleep. Your ankle throbs with every tender step you take.

Taking a deep breath, you plaster on a smile and push open the door. "Honey, I'm home," you call out in a sing-song voice, trying to mask all your exhaustion and this fucking pain that won’t quit.

Mister’s already watching for you as you make your way slowly down the stairs. His eyes narrow as his eyes mill across your frame.

You don't look great. Disheveled, torn clothes, scrapes on your hands and knees from when you fell.

"What happened t’ya?"

Oh he’s worried ‘boutchya! Let him help you, honey.

You wave off his question with a limp hand. "Never mind me,” you toss your backpack on the table, the bottles of whiskey clank around inside noisily as you sit down in the metal chair beside Joel’s recliner. “Gotch’yer meat you wanted to fuckin’ bad.” You say, rolling your eyes.

Mister-man looks you up and down. "Y'look like hell," he says, his eyes tracing over the scratches on your arms and legs.

You ignore his words and his wandering eyes and open up your backpack. “I got jerky,” you pull out two large containers of dried meat and set them on the table. “-got bread ‘n more peanut butter— they had jam this time.”

“Who is ‘they’?” Joel asks, his eyes never leaving you even as his arms and wrists begin to twist gently under the restraints.

Embarrassment floods you, it takes over everything that you are, just like it did when you told him you had been watching him for a while. You know what you did was bad, and you shouldn't be stealing or killing-- but you're only doing it for him!

You look at him, with a hollow feeling in your chest that you can't quite place. "They’s just... people," you say quietly. "They don't matter none."

Joel tilts his head, studying you so intently that makes you want to squirm. "Ya’ hurtin’?" he asks, voice rough like sandpaper grating your ear canal.

“Who is Tom?” You avoid all questions about you, and any issues you have because why burden Mister-man? You're not his problem, you want to give him a worry, burden free life here in the mall with you and Puddin'.

Mister watches you very carefully as you pull a slice of jerky out of the container, he’s practically drooling when you place it as his lips. He groans as he begins to chew, and immediately takes another bite before he’s even swallowed the first.

He doesn’t answer— not even after the entire piece of jerky is gone, so you withhold the next piece.

“Who. Is. Tom?” You shift closer to him and wince when your ankle brushes against the leg of the chair.

"Tom... Tommy is my brother." His voice… there's something almost tender in his tone when he says his brother's name.

It feels like someone it clenching your heart in their fist, and they’re fucking squeezing.

"You're my fucking sister!" His voice is so hoarse, raw and desperate. It doesn't even sound like him anymore. "Don't— please, don't fucking do it, I'm sorry-" "You told me sorrys don't mean nothing anymore— not out here they don't!" You shout back at him, the gun in your hand trembles right along with the rest of your body. "You were supposed to t-take c-care of me! You p-promised mom and dad," you sob, your thumb pulls the hammer of the revolver back and your index finger squeezes the trigger. "Hey, HEY!" He holds both of his hands up, a weak attempt to shield himself from whatever is about to happen. Shoot him, kid. He deserves it after what he put you through. He let those guys— The gun just goes off, you don't even feel yourself pull the trigger. All you see is a fine, red mist explodes from his forehead and the back of his skull— and then everything is quiet, everything is calm. Good job, Sugar. I'm so fucking proud of you.

That was the first time you ever heard the light voice, the sweet voice that says nice things to you.

And m'gonna be here for ya' forever, Sug.

“I know,” you sigh.

Mister blinks at you, “You know Tommy?”

You blink back at him, “No?”

The silence stretches between you, thick and heavy like the evening air at the end of the summer. Joel watches you, his eyes darting between your face and the jerky still in your hand. “Okay…”

“Did Tommy like Batman?” If Tommy likes or liked Batman or anything about that universe at all, he’s an okay guy in your book.

“He likes Superman,” Joel chuckles when he delivers the news. “I’m the one who likes Batman.”

You audibly gasp, “You like the comics and the cartoons?”

Joel's lips twitch at the corners, almost forming what looks like a smile. "Used to read 'em with Tommy when we was kids. " His eyes fill with sadness.

You lean forward, tilting your head to the side in curiosity. "Why’re y’sad?" you whisper, the pain in your ankle momentarily forgotten.

"I ain’t sad," Mister-man is gruff. "Tommy and I used to collect comics, argued about who was cooler. Obviously Batman, 'cause he ain't got no superpowers. Just pure skill. Tommy thought Superman was better."

“Both of ‘em suck— I just like Harley Quinn,” you nod.

You were going to say more but the very faint sound of clicking ticks in your ears. It’s far enough away that you can get upstairs and drop the metal gate that locks the store up nice and tight.

It’s never fun, and you don’t like having to do it— but thankfully you just made a haul, so you’ll be good for a couple day.

You just hope Puddin’ is okay. Ya' saw him yesterday, but he didn't sleep in the big bed with ya' like he normally would.

“Har—” Mister-man starts, oblivious to the terrors that are lurking just above your head.

“Shhhhhh,” you hold your finger up to your mouth and furrow your eyebrows at him. “Stay quiet ‘n I’ll give ya’ some more jerky, okay?” You whisper almost silently.

He nods and stays quiet because he knows how scary those fucking things are, and he probably doesn’t want to be tied to a chair if one every came around.

Standing up feels like a pack of sparklers— like the ones they used to have at the 4th of July parties when you were a kid, before all this— it feels like those, popping and sizzling up your leg. You have to bite back a moan as your body leans against the table for support. The table skids across the floor noisily as you hold yourself up on it and it makes your blood run cold.

You have to get up those stairs and drop that gate, Sug. Mister is countin’ on you…

It’s like time freezes and all you can picture is poor Mister getting torn apart.

You hesitate listening intently. The clicking grows louder, a sickening, bone-chilling sound that echoes through the abandoned mall. Your twisted ankle throbs, but adrenaline starts pumping through your veins.

“Gotta move, sweetheart.” He must have heard the clicking this time too. Joel’s whispering voice is even and calm even though your chest feels like it could cave in on itself, your ribs feel like they could explode inward towards your lungs like sending shattered bone fragments hurdling towards your delicate, soft insides. “Y’can do it. I know it hurts—”

The metal gate. Everything around you goes silent, and the only thing you can hear is the sound the gate makes when it closes and locks into the floor. You have to get to the metal gate.

You clutch the railing with a white knuckle grip and pull yourself up the stairs two at a time, biting almost completely through your bottom lip, grunting with each painful step.

The clicking is clearer, and closer now that you’re on the same level as the infected, and you can tell there is more than one, and they’re moving fast.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit,” you hiss as you limp towards the entrance of the store.

As you reach it, you can see the seven infected closing in fast. Your sweet, sweet Puddin’ is hauling ass towards you— the infected right on his little, scaly tail.

“C’mon Pud,” you whine, dropping the gate down for just enough room for him to run through, and possibly let one of the infected in if you weren’t quick enough closing it behind him.. “C’mon Puddin’!”

It’s like your words spur him on and his little legs kick into overdrive. He slips under the metal gate just as the infected slam into it, throwing you off your balance. You’re thrown back at least three feet, and watch in horror as the gate starts to rise on its own.

Move kiddo, come on! Get your ass up and fucking shut that gate!

Your body screams in protest as you scramble across the floor, your twisted ankle sending sharp bolts of pain through your leg.

Puddin' is playing dead right behind you, but you don't have time to think about him right now. He's safe and inside, that's all that matters. The gate keeps rising, inch by torturous inch, and the infected are pushing against it with stupid inhuman strength!

"No, no, no," you mutter, pushing through the pain. The clicking grows louder, more frenzied, as the first infected begins to squeeze its misshapen head underneath the rising gate.

Pulling the knife from your belt in one hand, you bring it down into the skull of the infected trying to slip through, and with the other, your fingers grapple for a hold on the handle of the metal grate.

The infected skull cracks open with a sickeningly wet crunch, dark blood and gray matter splattering across the floor.

Your hand finally grips the smooth metal tightly, even though now your palm is nearly dripping with sweat, and with a grunt that feels like it's being stolen right out of your lungs, you pull down with all the strength you have left inside of you.

The gate comes down with a crash that echoes throughout the mall, the infected on the other side of the gate screech and squeal loudly. Some of them stick their arms through the slots, and their skin peels back like overripe fruit, claws scraping desperately for any piece of you they can reach.

You don't even want to think about how grotesque they are, you flip the lock that secures the gate to the floor as their fingers grapple and scratch deep into your skin. It clicks into place and you finally exhale, not realizing you had been holding your breath.

So fuckin’ proud of you, Sug. Knew you could do it.

The shrieking cries of the infected fill the otherwise silent mall and the confined space you’re now trapped in. You can't help but glance back toward Puddin'—the little white and gray furball who is still playing dead.

“S’okay, we’re safe,” you sigh, letting yourself rest on your elbows and then on your back completely. You stare at the ceiling, and wonder how long the infected will stick around.

The sounds coming from right above Joel has his heart racing, and he’s trying to free himself from his restraints harder and more desperate than ever before.

With a roar of determination, uncaring of the dangers above him, he jerks one arm up and then down. It’s not enough; he can still feel them biting into his skin painfully, creating new rope burns.

“C’mon, c’mon!” he grunts as time stretches into an eternity. The picture of you being shredded by gnawing and gnashing teeth makes his stomach churn.

Just as that thought creeps in, he hears a metallic rattling, but the wailing of the infected are still clear as day.

The clang of metal echoes again, and for a moment, he thinks maybe you did it. Maybe you’ve locked them out. Maybe you just signed yours and his death certificates and locked some of them in the store.

He tries to twist his wrists again, then again, but each movement sends sharp, stinging pain surging up his forearms. “Fuck!” He exclaims loudly.

She’s up there, fightin’ them off all alone—

"I know, dammit.” His jaw is tense and he focuses all of his energy on trying to loosen the ropes enough, or rub them against the metal fame to fray it enough so he can snap them. The strain builds in his muscles, and he can feel the ropes biting deeper, but he can’t stop— the feeling inside him brings him right back to the hospital in Salt Lake when he was looking for Ellie.

He thought he had felt helpless then, he thought he had felt helpless when that girl and her group of friends had trapped him and Tommy in that cabin— but now he knows the true definition of despair. Tied to a chair, listening to you getting torn apart right above him, and then he’ll have to watch those infected come to tear his throat out.

The door to the basement opens slowly, and Joel’s heart almost stops beating completely. Bile rises in his throat at the uneven steps that start down the wooden steps. It’s a slow, clumsy sound accompanied by grunts and pained whimpers.

When your boots come into his line of sight, he exhales loudly. The sight of you, safe and still breathing sends a warmth through Joel’s spine that spreads into the rest of his body and he’s not sure why.

Awe shit, she’s hurtin’ real bad.

Joel fucking knows, he can see it with his own two eyes. You’re limping, worse than you were went you bolted upstairs and now you’re covered in fresh wounds, and blood trickles down your left forearm, wrist and fingertips, leaving little droplets in your wake. Your cradling something dead and furry in your right arm.

“Ya’ get bit?” Joel’s skin prickles as he asks, trying to get a better look at your arm, straining to see in the dim light.

“Naw,” you grunt at him, sitting in the chair you had been sitting in before you had run upstairs. “Just got scratched.”

Joel eyes you, unsure if he can believe you while you extend your left arm and show him the deep gouging scratches carved into your flesh. “S’bad,” Joel murmurs as you press your arm against your dirty jeans. He flinches at the sight, and turns his arms under the ropes.

What’chya wanna do? Hit her or help her?

Both? Joel synchronously wants to do both. He wants to lay you down on the mattress across the room and tend to your wounds. He wants to wash the blood of your skin, and wrap you up— watch your eyes glisten and sparkle as he cares for you. And then Joel would beat your face bloody, and bludgeon your chest in until it caved.

“M’fine,” you offer weakly. “Ain’t the worst that’s ever happened t’me.”

Somewhere deep inside of Joel twists painfully when the inflection in your tone tells him you think that’s true.

“How’s your ankle?” Joel doesn’t bother looking, he knows it’s bad by the way you limped down the stairs.

“Said m’fine,” you grumble, setting the dead animal down on the table very gently next to the shock collar remote.

“What’s that? Fresh meat finally—”

Joel doesn’t even see it coming, your hand moves so fast and the next thing he knows he is being zapped into silence.

“Ain’t fuckin’ fresh meat- you don’t ever speak about Puddin’ that way, ya’ hear me?” You zap Joel the entire time you’re speaking, and he can barely hear you over the screaming between his ears. It’s deafening and blinding, and making him feel fucking stupid.

“Fine fine.” Joel grits out through a jaw clenched so tight he might actually break his teeth.

You flick the remote off and toss it on the table as if it’s too hot to touch any longer. The buzzing in Joel's ears fades slightly, leaving only the thudding of his heart and the rasp of his breathing.

“I fuckin’ hate hurtin’ you,” you sob softly, wrapping your arms around what appears to be an opossum. You pull it closer to you, and nuzzle your face against his fur.

Joel recoils at the sight, but watches as the dead animal comes to life, and gives your cheek a gentle lick. “That’s your pet?” He asks, disbelief dripping off his tongue.

You don’t look at him, or even really acknowledge that you heard him— you just continue to snuggle the animal and cry quietly.

Joel doesn’t really know what to do, he wants to comfort you in a weird way, but he still wants to see you dead? But the thought you dying also scares him a little?

It’s ‘cause you wanna be the one snuggled up next t’her. Jealous of an opossum—

No the fuck he doesn’t! Joel does not want to snuggle up to you, he doesn’t want to feel your warm body pressed against his—

Even though she’d fit perfect right next to ya’. Picture it, ya’ got’chya arms ‘round her ‘n you got your legs all wrapped in hers…

The sight of you, vulnerable and fragile with that small, stupid animal, tugs at his heart in ways he hasn’t experienced in years. He shakes his head violently, as if he could actually dislodge the thoughts spinning in his mind. “You’re fuckin' crazy,” he mutters to himself under his breath.

Your chair scrapes across the floor as you turn quickly to the right so you can face him. Your jaw ticks and one of your eyes twitch. “I ain’t fuckin’ crazy— stop sayin’ that.” You whisper to him. “Why ya’ bein’ so mean? I jus’ saved your life…” Your face twists up like you might start crying again, and your eyes now are still wet with the tears you had been crying moments ago.

“Saved my life?” Joel scoffs through clenched teeth, the remnants of your electric assault still tingling faintly in his fingers and toes. “That’s what y’think you did for me?” He can feel his resolve faltering as the fat, wet tears begin to roll down your cheek, but he forces himself to stay angry. It feels safer— it feels better that way. “More like puttin’ me through hell, darlin’.”

He doesn’t even mean for the word darlin’ to come out of his mouth, he wasn’t even thinking it, at least— he doesn’t remember wanting to cal you darlin’.

But the moment it slips out, he watches your expression change. You wipe at the tears staining your cheeks, smearing dirt and blood across your face. A flicker of something warm and soft ignites in your eyes, like sunlight breaking through dark clouds. “Darlin’…” you echo him, a fractured smile threatening to bloom despite the pain etched across your features.

Joel’s heart sinks, and also bursts with pride all at the same time. You are in fact insane, but he made you stop crying.

Look’it that, she’s almost smilin’ now.

That warmth spreads through him again, against his will—against all logical reason. “I didn’t mean it,” he mutters, not really sure if he did mean it or not. Yet the sight of you still clinging to that opossum, caressing him carefully as he nibbles gently on one of your fingers. The sight draws him in deeper than he would like to admit, but he just wants to clean you up, wrap you in bandages and then let you fall asleep on his lap.

“Didn’t… mean it?” You repeat the words like you don’t understand them, and your smile falters just a bit as you study his face, searching for truth. “Liar,” you smirk at him.

There is a warmth in your crazy eyes that makes Joel want to sink as far into the chair as he possibly can, he wishes he could disappear but he doesn’t. He says, watching you like he’s frozen in place. “Nah, s’just the shock talkin’,” he whispers and nods his head to one side like there would be a video replaying the who ordeal that happened only moments ago. He wishes there was so he could watch it happen over and over, so he could build up the walls around him, keep you the fuck out of his head.

“Yeah…” There is a distance to your tone, like you’re not really there anymore, and you drop your gaze to the opossum nestled in your arms. “Ya’ made me do that though,” you whisper, eyes flicking up to him quickly— they’re darker, a little scary and Joel wishes he could hide inside his own skin.

“Made you?” Joel’s voice rises, anger flaring throughout him like a wildfire in a forest of dead, dry trees. It spreads fast before Joel can control himself.“Y’think I made you do that? You are a crazy fuckin’ bit—”

You zap him again with a jolt that sends white hot sparks crawling up his spine, and sucks the air right out of his lungs.

“Shut up, shut up, shut up!” you scream and clutch the opossum tighter.

Joel watches as it goes back to playing dead in your arms. He’s about to shout back at you, start a screaming war and hope those infected break through that gate upstairs and kill both of you— but then you whisper something quietly, and Joel almost doesn’t catch it.

“I’m not gunna fuckin’ do that, stop tellin’ me t’kill him.”

Joel’s blood runs cold like ice… who the fuck are you talking to? Or about?

“Are you still hungry?” Your voice is soft, almost sweet now. “I can get you more jerky… I got lots of whiskey—” you say, the fierce anger from moments ago melting away, replaced by a manic eagerness to please him. You reach for your bag again, your arm still bleeding badly— but you’re unfazed by it, or at least doing a good job pretending it doesn’t bother you.

You pull out a glass jar.

“Are those coffee beans?” Joel can barely believe his eyes. His mouth starts to salivate immediately.

You wrinkle your nose at him and shrug your shoulders. “Dunno— they look like some kinda bean— smell all burnt up to shit though,” your nose stays scrunched up as you begin digging around in your bag again.

“Lemme smell,” he can barely contain his excitement as he watches you unscrew the lid to the mason jar. There is a hesitation in your movements when you go to hold the jar under his nose, like you’re trying to figure out his game, the trap he’s set. Your eyes scan all around him, face and body unmoving. “I jus’ wanna smell it— I’ll tell you if it’s coffee or not,” he’s as close to begging for something as he’s ever gotten.

“You like coffee?” You sound so curious, and gingerly place the mouth of the jar under his nose. He takes in a deep inhale and the wonderful, deep and rich aroma of coffee fills his nostrils.

Joel groans loudly, and for a long time as the scent permeates his sinuses, he can almost taste it on his tongue for a fleeting moment.

“Take that as a yes,” you giggle and let him breathe in the smell a little longer. “How do I make it for ya’?” You ask, pulling the jar away and screwing the lid on tight.

“Gotta grind those beans up real fine— then let it brew in some hot water.” Joel explains, watching as you dig around in your bag for more of your loot. "They make special pots for it— percolators."

"Percolators?" You parrot him, tilting your head to one side—

Cute lil puppy.

You fucking are, Joel hates to admit it to himself but even all covered in blood, and muck— looking like you've been to hell and clawed your way back out by the skin of your teeth— your eyes are bright and alert, watching him intently.

"Yeah, keeps the coffee grounds out of your water—" he starts, but you cut him off.

"So you put those crushed up beans… in the water… to just not want them in the water at the end of it all?" You hold up the coffee beans and look at them incredulously, your eyes squinted and narrowed on the glass jar with one eyebrow cocked up slightly.

Joel can't stop the corners of his mouth from turning up at your expression, your face still dirty and tear stained. "Never had coffee before?"

You shake your head at him, and continue rifling through your bag.

The opossum on the table comes alive again now that you're calm and quiet, he pops his little head up and this is when Joel notices the small teal and pink collar around his furry neck. As you pull the rest of the things out of your pack, the little critter starts to lick and clean your wounds.

It makes Joel grimace at the sight of the wild animal trying to help you, take care of you, but again— it tugs at a place inside of him he hasn't dared venture in years.

You're in the small bathroom just off the main room cleaning up in the sink you filled with water from a jug you brought down yesterday. “Ya’ wanna sleep on the bed t’night?” You nod to the mattress pushed up against the wall across the room.

What the fuck?

Mister-man looks just as shocked as the dark voice in your head sounds. “Ya’ gon’ let me sleep comfortably- take these fuckin’ ropes off me?” His voice is bitter and bites at you, makes you furrow your brows at him.

Sug, he’s been tied up for a while now—

For good fucking reason, he’s going to kill her the minute she unties him.

He’s got the dang collar on now, he’s gonna listen to her.

What happens when she falls asleep? Huh? She’s been up going on almost eighteen hours—

How d’ya know how many hours it’s been? She don’t have a watch or a clock!! You don’t know what the fuck you’re talkin’ ‘bout.

She’s going to fall asleep and the minute she does— he’s going to strangle her.

The image of Mister-man with his hands around your throat makes you do two things— it makes your stomach flip, and it makes your cunt clench.

What the fuck was that?

She likes the idea of Mister-man chokin’ her a lil, dont’chya Sugar?

The heat rises from your chest and up your neck, behind your cheeks. You kinda do want Mister to choke you a little, but not with the intention to kill you!

“What’re you fuckin’ smirkin’ ‘bout over there?” Mister snaps at you.

When you look at yourself in the mirror, you are smirking and just standing in front of the sink frozen in place. You swallow hard, trying to ignore the images of Mister’s big, strong hands around your neck. “Nothin’,” you lie to him, which makes you feel bad— but you can’t tell him that’s what you were thinking about.

Tell him, see what he says…

Will you shut the fuck up—

“I figure you can sleep there ‘n I’ll sleep in the chair t’night— still gon’ have to tie you up, but least you can lay down…”

That’s not really what you want. You want his arms wrapped around you, and your legs all messed up in his. You wanna feel his warm breath on the top of your head because that’s gotta be the best way to fall asleep, feeling someone else’s warm body, feeling their heart beating inside their chest.

Let’s ya’ know they’re really there- ain’t a dream or something you’re imaginin’.

“Why the hell d’ya want me all comfy f’anyway, huh?” he asks, suspicion laced in his tone, but a hint of curiosity glimmers behind his dark brown eyes.

You shake your head and go back to cleaning your arm so you can bandage it. “No, I’m jus’ tryin’ t’be nice. Figur’d you could stretch out if ya’ wanted.”

He watches you, that suspicion still etched into the lines of his face, but the curiosity is unmistakable, swelling in the way his brow furrows deeper and his lips twist just slightly. “Why ya’ tryin’ to be nice?”

“I dunno… don’t want you hatin’ me no more—”

Stop it right now! Shut the fucking door and stop talking to him.

“Why would I ever stop hatin' you?” His voice is low, almost a whisper. Mister-man hones in his gaze on you like a hawk. “You think bein’ nice t’me is gonna make me forget that ya’ tied me up down here?”

You shrug lightly as you wrap a bandage around your arm, feeling the warmth of blood already seeping through the fabric.

Don’t listen to him, Sugar. He don’t mean it.

Sounds like he fuckin’ means it.

“I’m not trying to hurt you,” you say softly, finally meeting his stare head-on. “I just wanna feel normal again…”

Shut. The. Fuck. Up.

Yeah Sug, keep that to ya’self.

You feel ashamed, real shame, uncomfortable for sharing too much, and now the voices are agreeing with each other? That’s never a good sign. You’ve done something wrong.

“Normal?” He chuckles, but it feels malicious. “Ain’t nothin’ fuckin’ normal about this, sweetheart.”

“Stop sayin’ that if you don’t fuckin’ mean it!”

His laughter dies down, leaving an awkward silence between you. The room feels smaller, somehow and it feels like Mister-man is right on top of you with judging eyes. “I do mean it,” he replies, softer now but still sharp and angry. “Y’think it’s normal t’be tied up in the basement by some—”

“Some what?” You interrupt him as the anger rises to meet the shame and hold its hand.

Mister stares at you, face unchanging when he speaks. “Some. Crazy. Fuckin’. Bitch.” He enunciates every word. “What is this? Some fuckin’ fairy tale to you? One of your stupid princess movies, huh?”

“They’re not stupid,” you snap back, your voice rising in defiance. “And I’m not crazy. I just…”

“Just what?” he presses, his tone challenging. “What do you want from me?”

Don’t fucking say it.

“I jus’ want ya’ t’like me,” you whisper- feeling small and insignificant. “Want ya’ t’not hurt me again,” you point to your still slightly blackened eye.

His studies you like you’re a problem that he can’t solve— the muscles in his jaw flex, and he pinches his brow together tightly. “Ya’ want me t’like you?” He echoes softly, he says the words like they might unleash an evil into the room.

You nod, feeling like you’re frozen and on fire all at the same time, it makes your stomach churn like you might be sick. The way he’s staring at you make you feel naked and exposed.

“Why?” he asks suddenly, breaking through the silence and makes you flinch.

“You’re handsome,” you let the words slip out of your mouth before you can stop them.

He shifts in the chair like you made him uncomfortable, confusion weaving its way into the creases of his hardened and in fact, beautiful face.

“Handsome?” he repeats the word like it's a foreign language, like it’s something he hasn’t heard in ages.

“I sure think so,” you nod again.

Your face is so hot it feels like it’s being held to flames.

Well, this is the most you’ve talked to anyone in a real long time, Sug… it’ll get easier.

You could just stop talking completely and go to sleep. You’re delirious.

No she ain’t. Mister-man is handsome, and she want’s him inside her again real bad.

Your walls clench around absolutely nothing at the thought of his thick, throbbing length plunging inside of you, stretching you to fit around him perfectly. The idea of it happening again makes you dizzy and you can’t help but bite your lip, your face somehow grows hotter than you thought possible.

The look Mister gives you- the half smirk, one raised eyebrow makes you think he can read your mind.“Handsome,” he snorts softly, eyes never leaving you, but now they trail down the curves of your body. “You trynna ‘sit in my lap’ again, sweetheart?” The words come out of his mouth slow like molasses, and that country twang he has sends a shock right to your core.

“Maybe,” you say, voice trembling slightly but unwavering, “maybe if you wanted to, I would.”

His face softens slightly, the anger and suspicion melting away like snow in the sun. He raises an eyebrow, a small smile playing on his lips. "Why would I want that, honey?" he asks, his voice teasing slightly.

“You seemed to want it the other night,” you limp out of the bathroom and sit down in the metal chair beside his recliner.

“I was real drunk,” Mister explains, but his demeanor has changed, he looks relaxed, he’s resting his head on the back of the chair, looking at you through hooded eyes. “Ya’ took advantage of me,” he growls softly, but beckons you over with a nod of his head.

“Ya’ told me t’do it…” you snap. “I ain’t take nothin’. Advantage- I ain’t-- what? You asked me t’do it!”

He sure fuckin’ did ask you! How dare he say that bullshit ass—

I hate to admit it, but… he’s right—

The last thing you ever wanted to do was take something from Mister-man that he didn’t want you to take! It’s the worst feeling in the world- being held down and forced into—

Shhhhh, Sugar. It’s alright, s’all over now. It was just a misunderstanding.

“I ain’t m-mean t’do that,” you say weakly through the lump forming in your throat. “I thought ya’ wanted me t’do it— that’s why ya’ punched me?”

His eyes widen slightly, “I didn’t punch ya’ for that.”

"Then why did ya’ punch me?" Your voice cracks slightly as tears begin welling up in your eyes again; embarrassment filling every cell within your body once more.

“I was gonna try’n leave. Go home—”

“Ya’ lied t’me… said you’d stay,” you whimper, wiping the tears before they can fall.

“Please stop cryin’…” Mister-man's voice is surprisingly gentle as he speaks, and you feel your heart squeeze in response.

You sniffle, trying to regain your composure. "I wouldn’t have done it if you didn’t ask me first," you mumble, wiping your nose on the back of your sleeve.

"Why not?" Joel asks softly. 

Look'it that, ya went'n made her cry! For what!? She's just trynna be nice t'ya! Jus' like she said. She wants a lil boyfriend, someone t'snuggle up with at night-- like a normal person!

There isn't anything fucking normal about you, not at all. 

“I ain’t like stuff gettin’ taken from me,” you admit quietly, turning your gaze away from him.

Joel narrowed his eyes, sitting up a bit straighter in his recliner, the leather creaking underneath his weight. "What’ya mean by that?"

“Lets get ready for bed, ‘kay?” You ignore his question and stand up, wincing when you put any weight on your ankle. You hold the remote in your mouth gingerly as you begin untying him from the chair.

****

Joel watches you from the mattress in the corner. You have his hands still bound up in the oven mitts, and now you’ve tossed a rope over a pipe in the ceiling and tied up his elbows so he can move and lay down. Stretch out if he wants to, but he can’t walk more than five or six feet in either direction— and the pipes secured tighter than he had been hoping it would be.

Joel can hear you reading the Batman comic books to yourself and that opossum you keep calling Puddin’, but you haven’t looked or spoken to him since you tied him up an hour or so ago. Just left him with two things: a plastic bottle of water and metal flask with whiskey in it. He was silently thankful when you twisted the lids off without him having to ask.

He knows struck a nerve with his question, but he didn’t really expect you to shut him out completely. He takes a swig from the plastic water bottle.

Ya’ want that sad lil puppy t’come over here, dont’chya?”

He does, oddly enough. You being crazy was better than you giving him the cold shoulder, like he wasn't even there.

He wonders if you read to that stupid animal every night, and if you snuggle with him in the bed you sleep in upstairs. He wonders if you have to drink yourself to sleep every night with how many bottles of whiskey you brought back.

His mind just continues to race.

****

Joel can’t sleep. He thought for sure the minute he put his head down, he’d drift off and sleep better than he has since you tied him up down here, he’s got a blanket and a pillow now but they do nothing to comfort him into closing his eyes.

Call her over, see if she’ll come snuggle up next to you.

“Hey,” Joel whispers into the completely dark room.

“What?” You whisper back to him from the void.

“C’mere— it ain’t fair ya’ gotta sleep in that chair. I know s’uncomfortable.” What the fuck is he doing? He’s not going to willingly allow you into his space, is he?

“M’fine,” you murmur back to him. “Go t’sleep.”

“Can’t sleep— come sit in my lap again,” Joel smirks to himself because fuck, what he would do to feel your warm cunt enveloping him like you were made strictly for him, and him alone. It makes his cock twitch just thinking about it.

Joel holds his breath, waiting for you to respond. Then, finally, you murmur back, your voice barely more than a whisper, “Why would I do that?”

“‘Cause I’m handsome…” Joel teases you, listening to the way the chair creaks as you shift on it. He wishes so badly he could see you. “I know ya’ wanna feel good, I wanna feel good too.”

“Y’just wanna punch me again, try’n escape—”

“Where would I go? Them infected are still up there, I ain’t gettin’ outta here anytime soon,” he’s being honest. He had thought about it, but the idea of having to share a room with your dead body— even if he moved you upstairs, the idea of having to wait around with your corpse until the infected cleared out gave him a bad feeling.

It’s ‘cause you don’t wanna kill ‘er. Ya’ wanna be deep inside that tight, wet, warm perfect hole.

“Fuck,” Joel mutters under his breath. His cock’s fully hard now, and it’s making a tent in the black sweatpants you put on him before bed. He rubs the oven mitt on his hand against the bulge in the fabric and groans loudly.

“What’re you doin’?” You ask from your place in the chair.

“Come find out, sweetheart.” He sighs, leaning against the wall the mattress is pressed up against.

Joel listens to you limp and shuffle towards him in the dark. Your hands hesitantly touch his shins before you crawl onto the bed with him.

“Take ‘em out f’me, baby girl,” he leans into you now that you’re sitting next to him, pushing his nose into your hair. He inhales deeply and takes in the heady scent of your sweat lingering whatever fucking pheromones that are making him just as insane as you.

“Ya’ really want this?”

Joel wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you as close as he can get. “M’sober this time,” he moan quietly into your ear when you push his mitt covered hand, away and slip your hand underneath the waistband. He bucks his hips up into your fist as you begin to stoke him.

“You’re s’warm,” you sigh, turning your head to face him.

Joel wastes no time catching your lips in a kiss, slipping his tongue into your mouth to taste you, savor your flavor. You taste like whiskey and strawberry jam. The smell of cheap bathroom hand soap lingers on your skin from washing up in the sink. All of it makes him feel like hes intoxicated.

“Fuck, y’feel so good,” he growls into your mouth, nipping at your bottom lip gently as you pull away. “Take these fuckin’ mitts off me—”

Your hand leaves his pants and the warmth of your body is gone from beside him. “It’s a trick?” You sound hurt in the dark, like Joel’s played some terrible prank on you and you just found out.

“No, no, no-” he’s desperate for your touch. It felt so good, and he wasn’t even thinking about trying to trick you or do anything shifty once you took the mitts off, he wanted to grip you and grope you. Plunge two or three fingers right into your wetness. “No, m’not trynna trick you— I just wanna touch you.”

“S’what you said last time,” you snap at him. He can tell you’re still close, probably still on the mattress. He shifts and tries to get closer to you but he hears your skin drag across the concrete floor.

“Shit,” Joel grumbles. “I know, fuck— I know, but I mean it this time-”

“I don’t believe you.”

Of course you don’t believe him! He socked you right in the eye as hard as he could the last time he didn’t have at least 4 inches of padding on his fists.

“I wanna make y’feel real good, the way y’were makin’ me feel real good just then,” he’s inching towards the sound of you dragging yourself across the floor on his hands and knees slowly. The ropes stop him from going any further while you continue your retreat. “C’mon, baby…”

“Y’just sayin’ that, don’t mean it…” The sound of your body shuffling away from him stops though, and he wonders if he’s got you on the hook with the pet names.

Try it again, Mister.

“Please, honey… I wanna hear y’moan Mister’s name,” he coos to you, hiding from him somewhere in the darkness.

You let out a long, slow, shaky breath before you answer. “What is your name…”

He’s so fucking desperate for some sort of relief that he tells you before he can come up with a fake name— he’s learned the hard way about sharing his real name with strange women. “Joel.”

“Joel…” You whisper back to him. “My very own Mister-J?” You sound excited.

“Mister-J?” Joel cocks his head to one side, but is pushed back onto the mattress by the force of you barreling into him.

“That’s what Harley calls the Joker,” your straddling his waste again and without thinking twice, Joel wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you into him. His forearms brush against the bare skin of your thighs and it makes him groan softly as he pushes you down into his lap.

“Ya' wanna be m'crazy girl? Like Harley Quinn?” Joel chuckles as he nudges his nose against your chin, tilting your head back to expose your neck.

You hesitate, and pull back from him slightly.

“I ain’t gon’ bite you,” he promises, leaning in as much as he can so he can press his lips to the column of your throat.

“Fuck,” you breathe out, sinking into him like you’re melting. “Oh fuck,” it leaves your mouth as a whimper, and Joel’s cock throbs at the sound.

“Like this?” He nips at the spot where your neck meets your shoulder and you shiver in his arms. He can’t hide the smile, he doesn’t care to. He loves that he’s capable of making you make those sounds.

You hum an almost silent ‘mhm’, and wrap your arms around his neck and thread your fingers through the curls at the nape.

Joel has so much more room to move around now that he’s unrestrained, so he rolls his hips up into yours so you can feel what he has to offer. You gasp and arch your back, pushing yourself further onto him. He moans softly, his mitts trailing down your spine and cupping your ass cheeks as best they can. He can feel the heat between your legs growing and he has a nagging thought in his head.

Lay down, let her climb right on top—

Joel shifts and wiggles down onto the mattress so he’s flat on his back, with you still straddling his hips. “Take your lil shorts off,” Joel taps your thigh, and then lifts his hips so he can shove his sweatpants down his legs.

You don’t ask any questions. You roll off of him and Joel feels your shoulder touch his as you lay down to remove your bottoms. You go to crawl back into his lap but he stops you.

“Sit up here,” he grips your hips as best he can with the mitts, and tugs you up to his face.

“What!?” You sound distressed, “Ya’ want me t’do what?”

“Turn around, and sit down,” Joel growls up at you.

You hesitate, the uncertainty clear in your voice. "I-I don't know..."

"C'mon, darlin'," Joel coaxes, his voice low and husky. "Let me taste you. I promise ‘m gonna make you feel so good."

With shaky movements, you turn around and slowly lower yourself over Joel's face.

He inhales deeply, taking in your scent. "That's it," he murmurs encouragingly. "Just like that." Joel can feel the heat radiating from your core as you hover uncertainly above him. He lifts his head, nuzzling his nose against your inner thigh. "Lil lower," he nips at your supple skin.

With a soft whimper, you finally sink down onto his waiting mouth. Joel groans at the first taste of you, his tongue delving between your folds. Your sweet and tangy, a little sweaty and musky— it’s fucking heady and perfect. He can’t get enough.

“Oh fuck,” you shudder as Joel licks a stripe from your clit to your entrance, which is already dripping and Joel feels pride swell in his chest.

Without Joel having to ask, or prompt you in any way, you lean over and take his hard, aching cock in your hand. Joel nearly comes right there when he hears you spit on it noisily and palm your warm saliva around the throbbing, drooling tip.

“Fuuuuck,” Joel moans approvingly before his tongue pushes into your entrance.

"Oh god, Mister," you whimper, your hand still working his cock in long, slow strokes. Then you kitten lick the tip and he has to stop himself from bucking his hips.

Joel's mind goes blank as your warm, wet mouth envelops the head of his cock. He groans against your pussy, the vibrations making you shudder above him. His tongue laps eagerly at your fold, drinking in your arousal as it flows freely.

You bob your head, taking more of his length with each downward motion. Joel's hips twitch, fighting the urge to thrust up into the heavenly heat of your mouth. Instead, he focuses on pleasuring you, sucking your clit between his lips and flicking it with his tongue.

You whimper around his cock, grinding your hips down onto his face.

Joel pulls back slightly, his breath hot against your core. "That's it, baby girl. Ride my face," he growls before diving back in, his tongue circling your clit.

You pull away, your hand replacing your mouths ministrations and rest your head on Joel’s hip as you stroke him, never faltering on giving him pleasure. “Please d-don’t stop!” You cry out, your grip tightening around his shaft as you rock your hips. Joel's mitt-covered hands grip your thighs, urging you on.

"Gonna cum for me, darlin'?" he murmurs against your slick folds. "Let me taste it."

Joel feels you tense above him, your thighs quivering as you grind down harder on his face. He doubles his efforts, lapping at your clit with quick, firm strokes of his tongue. Your hand on his cock speeds up, pumping him in time with the rocking of your hips.

"Oh god, oh fuck," you whimper, your voice muffled against his hip. "I'm gonna-- I'm--"

Your words dissolve into a high-pitched moan as you come undone. Joel groans as he feels your pussy pulse against his mouth, a fresh wave of your arousal coating his tongue.

Your sounds, the way your hips continue to rock against his mouth as you unravel has his own release bubbling up to the surface. Joel groans deeply as his own orgasm crashes over him, his hips bucking up involuntarily as he spills into your hand. You stroke him through it, milking every last drop as he shudders beneath you.

Joel's whole body twitches as you clean him and your hand with your tongue, "Taste good," you mumble against his stomach, pressing soft kisses to the trail of hair between his cock and belly button.

Then, with shaky movements, you lift yourself off of Joel's face and turn around to face him. Even in the darkness, he can sense your uncertainty.

"C'mere," Joel murmurs, his voice rough. He reaches out, pulling you down to lay beside him. You settle against his chest, your breath warm on his neck.

“Don’t kill me in my sleep, ‘kay?” You sigh, pressing a kiss to his pulse point.

Joel murmurs something incoherent, already on the verge of falling asleep.

Sorry it was like 45 minutes late (two days early if you look at the master list ok?-- I may have had something to drink.... and of course thanks @pedrospookie for that adorable fucking mood board. I hope you all like this chapter-- it's a little domesticated (i think), but I have more crazy, unhinged antics coming next chapter!)

TAG LIST: @pedrospookie @gothcsz @joelmillerisapunk @sp00kymulderr @paleidiot @goodvampykitten @rosebuds-and-moonlight @diabaroxa @zhazy-blog2 @almostempty @xdaddysprincessxx @tobethlehem @lilac-boo @xkyxkyxxlylcylulucuflfluclu @rav3n-pascal22 @baronessvonglitter @joelmillerisapunk @syd-djarin @probablyreadinsmut @itwasntimethatdidit40 @letsgobarbs @lovehappyloki @joelalorian @pedrostories

(omg I think I got everyone but that's so many people, please let me know if I left you off or if you want to be taken out of the tag list!)

[sunflowersandsapphires]

Comfort Headcanons for Frank, Matt, and Mikey

A/n: so I am ridiculously overwhelmed by personal and political stuff right now. And I told myself I was going to write every day this week if possible, but my brain was being difficult today. So instead of working on a longer fic I wrote some self-indulgent headcanons about Frank, Matt, and Mikey caring for an overwhelmed partner. I hope you all enjoy. Please feel free to send me other headcanon requests!

How would they’d react to you being overwhelmed

Frank

Frank would pick up on this IMMEDIATELY

the second your self care habits change, he’s onto you. You stay up later than normal two nights in a row, or run out the door with a granola bar instead of eating a real breakfast, and he is concerned™️

He’s willing to entertain it for three days max. He knows life gets tough sometimes, and he doesn’t want to encroach on your process—but we all know that once this man is worried, he’s minutes away from taking control. He has issues but we love him for it.

On the 4th day, when you’re waking up exhausted after far too little sleep and rejecting his offer to take you out for breakfast, he puts his foot down.

“Gonna order in for dinner tonight, ok? We can watch that movie you wanted to see and turn in early.”

You hastily agree, bolting out the door before you end up late to your job.

When you finally arrive home, he’s all over you in an instant. Murmuring his hellos while helping you out of your coat and shoes, ushering you over the couch.

He’s insisting that you sit in his lap while the two of you pick out dinner, offering suggestions for restaurants instead of leaving the choice open-ended. Given how tired and generally stressed you seem, he wants to take as much weight off your shoulders as possible.

Once dinner has been ordered, he tucks you close to his chest, practically burying you in a jumble of muscular limbs, humming appreciatively when you nuzzle further into his space. His hand is cupped around your nape, thumb gently brushing over your spine as you hunch toward him.

“Ready to talk about what’s botherin’ ya, doll?” The question leaves room to decline, but his stern tone suggests you choose to answer.

He listens carefully as you tell him what’s on your mind, brushing silent kisses against your forehead whenever your breath wavers around a stifled sob. His hands never move from your skin, cradling you to him like he’s trying to absorb your pain.

He wouldn’t let you lift a finger the rest of the night. Retrieving the take out, dishing it up for you, drawing you a bath, tucking you into bed

When you’re beginning to drift off atop his giant shoulder, he’d rest his forehead against yours.

“I know it’s tough right now. But we’ll get through. I promise.”

“Please don’t leave, Frank.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, babydoll.”

Matt

Matt isn’t as observant of your habits and routines, but he can sure as hell pick up changes in body language.

Gritting teeth, blinking back tears, frustrated sighs—he notices all of it. He might not act on it immediately, brushing it off when you explain that you just had a bad day, but when your fatigue and growing apathy persist…

I think you hiding something from him would spook him for sure, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t be determined to get answers out of you. He’d set his personal anxieties aside and prepare for a serious talk.

He’d leave the office somewhat early, asking you to meet him at his apartment. He’d offer you a beer, or whatever you were in the mood for (if his lacking fridge and pantry allowed for it), and he’d ask you the big question.

“You aren’t yourself lately. What’s going on?”

He’s not happy when you start crying, but he’s definitely relieved when you collapse into his arms and explain your recent mood. Even more so when you confess it had nothing to do with him.

As always, he harbors immense guilt for not being there, not being endlessly supportive, not being able to solve the issues gnawing at you with his own two fists.

But what he doesn’t realize is that he’s helping just by being there. By being present and absentmindedly squeezing you with his tree-trunk arms. By acknowledging your struggles and offering what he could.

He’d cut his patrols short for a few days, nearly begging you to sleep at his loft instead of in your own bed, so he could keep a metaphorical eye on you. He sleeps better with you by his side anyway.

Mikey

You’re Michael’s whole world, so he’d know you were overwhelmed before you realized it yourself.

As soon as he spotted the stress lines on your face, he’d be on his feet, trying his best to lighten the burden.

He’d walk you to and from work, as always, maybe even stopping by to keep you company on your lunch hour.

When he wasn’t with you, or ignoring his family, he’d be constantly cleaning the house and working through your joint to do list, taking task after task off your plate so you could properly decompress.

He wouldn’t pressure you to talk to him about it, but he’d give you the option.

“I’m here if ya want to talk, pet. Anytime ya need.”

And, of course, you’d take him up on it. Explaining that you could handle everything and you didn’t want him to overwhelm himself trying to help you because it was just a pile of small things that were wearing you down. But he’d have none of it.

“I wanna do this fer ya. Let me help, love.”

He’d bundle you in a knit blanket on the couch and set the tv to your favorite show, kissing the top of your head before heading to the kitchen to clean up after dinner.

I hope you enjoyed! And I hope you’re all doing ok this week. It’s rough out there.

[marbofmoorock]

TADC Autism

AU: TISM!!

Concept: All Circus members have the 'tism.

Short Story:

Caine as the ringmaster, decides that everybody will ride a train in this adventure, just because! NO QUESTIONS ASKED, (GET ON THE DARN TRAIN ALREADY, MY SUPERSTARS!)

Ragatha, wearing her special noise canceling headphones, is escorted onto the train by Pomni. Ragatha gets overexcited about trains, giggling to herself rather frantically. Pomni brings her horses so they can play Horses together in their shared train car. Pomni was quiet, almost mute, (as some autistic children have trouble voicing their own feelings, often very sensitive or anxious, crying without saying a word, since they're often nonverbal, while others are very verbal), yet Pomni always tried to show kindness towards her friends in her own often misunderstood anxious way. That especially goes for Ragatha as she was like her best friend. As she carried Raggy's large bags of toys, they thought of playing for hours, as Pommi understood how Ragatha felt, both sharing a bond of horses and dollies that only they shared.

Gangle and Zooble occupied the next train car bedroom. Gangle is reading her favorite manga, Azumanga Dioh, and Repeating to herself her favorite lines. Zooble goofily repeats them with Gangle, laughing with Gangle at the perviness of Kimura Sensei:

"BANZAAAAAIIIII" yelled Gangle Absentmindedly.

"BANZAAAAAAIII!" Chanted Zooble in return.

(Reference, because autism Below:)

"BANZAAAAAAAAAIIII!" They yelp together as they chuckle and laugh at how silly Kimura Sensei is.

Kinger and Jax are up in the front with something to do, as Caine made Jax an engineer, and Kinger the Conductor, as his blank stare, as goofy as always our was, he wore a Conductor outfit and hat.

"I feel really useful! ALL ABOARD!" Said Kinger in the silliest, cutest way, reminded of his childhood love for Thomas the Train.

Jax shovels coal into the fireplace, finding the repetitive tasks of working in the engine room to be satisfying. It was just the kind of action he needed. It was sure more interesting to take in the view and handle the train's mechanisms than it was to hang out with the girls. "Lame," thought Jax out loud as he continued to quietly talk to himself, like the autistic boy he is, oogling over how the train is moving orderly.

Caine pulls the whistle for fun!

"WOOOOWOOOO!!" Chanted Caine, he was having the time of his life, and couldn't be better. Autistic as he is! Bubble spun around in the air with Caine, giggling endlessly either him above the train as it shot down the tracks with great speed.

In the dining car train, Kaufmo sits at a table eating his favorite snack while watching random comedians on YouTube, learning about better ways to make jokes, obsessing over it as all autistic people do, having an expert level of information on the topic. Then there was Queenie, who took out her butterfly collection where she had a few pictures of beautiful butterflies, I love watching them, she thought to herself as she looked at all of her favorite pictures from her last nature trip, obsessing over entomology, seeing all of the cool pictures of different beetles she found. She loved beetles so much.

Dobby Dog sells stuff at the snack bar, hanging out and enjoying the view. Couldn't be happier, he thought as he quietly sat behind the counter reading a book on hot dogs, his favorite thing in the whole wide world.

They all later hang out in the Observation deck watching the stars later as the train roared on through the countryside.

Choochoo!

----

Edit: If you want more Kimura Sensei, I got you covered. Lol, he may be so creepy, but it just ends up being so hilarious in the anime. Especially when he yells Banzai!!!

https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLOGWywdivQ7KYicAZ_MtOkfgvad7IRdsz&feature=shared

Autistic Ragatha bc I'm autistic and I'm struggling to accept my differences

I also gave her little Tamagochi with Jax inspired by something @justtheclippy said on stream! (Ragatha tamagochi keychain coming soon! So stay turned 💜)

[arkhamsbrat]

family is a rough subject for both you and jason. you know why it’s hard for him, he’s explained it in painful detail. you’ve done the same, as terrifying as it was to go over everything again. your little sister is the roughest part.

you raised her, since your mom didn’t care to. taught her how to walk, talk, read and write. in all ways except legally and biologically, she was your kid. maybe you never wanted kids because you already had one in her. that’s why leaving your home state was the hardest decision of your life. escaping your parents was good for you… but it left her alone.

when a random number called you, you just had the urge to answer it.

it was hard for you to stay calm when the voice on the other end was your sister, in tears because your parents kicked her out. you had a friend who was still in town go pick her up immediately, sent them money to get her on a phone plan so she could stay in contact with you. jason had been so busy you didn’t think to tell him you were buying a ticket for her to come to you. you didn’t care for any denial, in truth.

you spent the next two hours on a rampage across your home, breaking a few glasses in your wake. it got to a point where you just collapsed to the ground in exhaustion. jason came home to see you in tears, broken glass at your side. “hey-baby, what happened?” your wet eyes flickered up to him and you just cried harder. “they kicked her out..” he thought for a moment before realizing. “your sister?” his hand moved to cup your cheek, gently wiping your tears away. “need me to buy her a ticket?”

why you ever question jason todd and his love for you is something that can never be answered.

jason doesn’t care about his space being intruded. he knows all about her, you constantly talk about her achievements. when he first visited your apartment, he thought you may have been a teen mother. not that it wouldve been an issue.

he sets up the living room into a makeshift bedroom while youre out one day. when you come home, hes honestly scared he fucked up. you just kept blinking at him. “what’s-what did you do?” you ask quietly. “i just… thought she’d want it to feel like an actual room? and not like she was couch surfing?” he watches you scan over the room with wide eyes before you start crying again. jason rushes over and wraps his arms around you, barely catching your whispered “thank you”s.

he’d never seen you two in person- your parents had banned you from seeing her when you moved out. that’s why i think jason is shocked the first time he sees you with your little sister. no matter how old she gets you cradle her cheeks and kiss her head. years had passed, she was so much bigger.

jason watches silently, seeing you pull her into the kitchen while she cries. “they kicked me out…” he sees how your jaw sets, but you keep your voice soft as you cradle her. “y’gonna stay with me, okay?”

“but what about…” she drones off, eyes moving towards the living room. “jayce.” you call out, waiting for him to hum in acknowledgment. “can she stay with us?” barely a second passed before he responded. “as long as she needs to.”

your sister cries harder against your shoulder, and you shush her gently. “i got you, ladybug… promise.” jason can see the tears in your eyes that are barely held back as you hold her tight.

jason’s never loved you more than he does right now.

[ilysungho]

thoughts on taesan being an absolute perv at the start of your relationship. he knows you’re his gf and all but is still a little bit shy to initiate anything sexual. but then one day when he’s over at your place he watches you change, as you plan to go out for dinner. a wave of confidence takes over him and he barges into your room when you’re in just your underwear. he then ends up fucking you into oblivion as he controls you, making you see whole new side of taesan which you end up loving

sorry for the long request 😭

ahhh omg don’t apologize! this is really good 😵‍💫

perv taesan in a relationship would be so adorable to see actually. the way he’d have to control himself around you by not letting his thoughts go straight to his dick, by having to use the restroom a couple times every time you both hang out because he failed at doing that and just HAS to blow a load, by acting all innocent when you ask him why he was in there for so long every time. don’t get him wrong though! he wants to have a sexual life with you, but he loves the romantic side just as much. it just gets hard when you’ve gotten so comfortable around him that you’re not wearing bras at home, your perky nipples looking so suckable, while your shorts were just… too short. he’d thought so many times about how he could just bend you over and fuck right into what he knows is a pretty pussy, but he still have some dignity! i imagine the two of you do start talking about having sex and what it entails. he’d have to hold back from saying the most insane things he wants to do to you, not sure if you’d be comfortable with that or not. you both would also start sexting, him being a bit shy about sending nudes yet asking you to send just pics of your boobs. and he could cum to that all night long. and when you both finally do it, he’s just so… held back and restrained. it was good, and you told him it was good, but he needed more and couldn’t do anything unless you really provoked him.

and that’s exactly what would happen when you wear the exact mini dress he bought for you for valentine’s to a party outside. and he just snaps like never before <3 he’d push you down on the body while moving your panties to the side, taking out his already hard dick to just slam right into you. it hurts so much because there was no foreplay like he usually does, but the internal pain gets replaced by external pain as one hand pulls on your hair while the other spanks you. it feels so overwhelming with just the actions, but then he’d start degrading you, telling you how much of a pathetic slut you are to wear such a vulgar dress outside of this house. he bought it for you but that doesn’t mean you can just wear it wherever. he’s possessive like that, ruining your makeup in the process as he twists your body around with his cock still in you to smudge your lipstick. you’d be crying so much and he’d feel a pang to his chest, slowing down and asking if he’s hurting you, but when you kiss him instead of answering, he just goes ballistic because now he knows that his perverted thoughts can finally be unleashed <3

[fee224]

Love calls from miles away

Bf!rafe x overlooked!reader

MASTERLIST

Rafe had left to Morocco with promises you presumed were hollow. Your mind tended to go to the pessimist dark room and stay there. The night he left, you half convinced yourself there was no work trip, this was his way of tapping out and you’d probably see him at the club the following day.

After crying yourself to sleep under the comfort of your own warm duvet, you were surprised to be woken by your phone singing rather than your fluffy alarm clock.

The contact name sent a warm tingle through your stomach as you accepted the call. “Rafe?” You gulped.

“Hey baby, I just landed, thought I’d ring to let you know” his voice was tired too and you quickly wiped the sleep out of your eyes to lean against your headboard. “You’re there? Is it nice rafe?” You whispered, desperate not to wake the mutt at the end of your bed.

“Sure, Little hotter than the obx but we’ll adjust hey? Shit I didn’t even think of the obx, what time is it over there?”

“Eh nine o clock, I’m just watching a movie” you lied, coughing the sleepiness out of your throat, you wanted to keep talking to your boyfriend.

“Yeah? What movie?” He asked patiently, clearly not calling for a reason as you smiled distracted by his deep voice. “Ah legally blonde, trying to get in a study mood for when college starts” you spoke softly, calmly and slowly. The silence comforting, and rafes breathing soothing you.

“Legally blonde” he ticked his tongue, attempting to make conversation about the movie he’s never heard of. “Cute?” He shook his head to himself as you giggled.

“You wanna see this place we are staying, place is a fucking palace” your feet intertwined underneath the sheets, listening intently about the interior design of said palace.

“I thought ward would be that type of dad, to buy super big palaces as a place to stay” you mused from the other line as he hummed, not burdening you with what exactly he had to deal with in terms of ward, talking about him as a man focussed on business and priorities, which wasn’t a lie.

The phone call ended twenty minutes later with rafe needing a shower before dinner reservations. The next call came a day later, day one being filled with texts, day two came with a FaceTime.

You were sitting at your vanity, applying expensive skin care when the call came and you placed it against your mirror.

It must have been late for him because he was in bed, darkness filling most of his room, as he laid shirtless against the wooden headboard.

He made a conscious effort not to mention your small pink silk crop top that made your nipples exposed, and every time you would lean across the desk, he was gifted with a pretty view. He hoped the darkness in his room would help hide the fact he was staring.

“And this one is a glazing milk, I’m pretty sure this is what makes my skin so soft, my face skin of course because on my body skin I just use moisturising lotion” you rolled your eyes at yourself, still rambling as you poured the liquid into your hands.

“Yeah? What’s next baby?” He sounded out of breath, and his panting made your head snap to the camera, just to be met with his unclear face.

“Hmm” you rummaged around your drawer “this! It’s like a lip mask, for while I do the rest of my make up, then I’ll take it off and my lips will be soft” you show it to the camera.

“Mmmhm” his camera was shaky and you scratched your head watching him

“rafe i cant really see you”

“That’s okay, I can see you” he stifled as you poured, accepting his answer and applying the strawberry lip mask, sniffing the fragrance while you did.

You were the one that had to hang up this time, and not because you had to change into your dress, because he insisted you could do it on camera, but when your mother yelled from downstairs that the car was leaving in two minutes for brunch, you scrambled down.

The third call came on Sunday, the day before he was back. You were missing rafe the most this day. You had just got back from walking Simmons at his favourite beach, and you were making chocolate cupcakes for rafe when he got back tomorrow.

“Hi rafe” you smiled wide, placing him against the wall while mixing the batter in your favourite pink baking bowl. You couldn’t make out the background, just his pretty tanned face, and his navy blue polo.

“Sweetheart” he mused happily. His hand coming behind his head, rubbing his hair as you smiled back. The pair of you staring at each other wordlessly, endearingly.

“Are you baking?” His eyes shifted from your face to the ingredients sprawled across the counter, and the batter on your cheek.

“Mhm” you answered with an exaggerated nod and smug smile. Teasing was something anybody rarely saw, but it was one of rafes favourite trait of yours, the way you’d giggle at his fake begging, shaking your head so cutely.

“You gonna tell me?” He smiled knowingly as you stirred with your spatula, focussed on the base.

You smiled softly at the camera “uh uh” you snorted putting the mixture down to go find cupcake cases. “It’s a surprise rafe! Ever heard of one” you rolled your eyes, which he chuckled at, amused by what your idea of banter entailed. Entertained by anything that came out of your silly mouth.

“When do I get my surprise” he set you down on the coffee table, leaning back to cross his arms and manspread as you stared at him complacently. “Hmm” you responded clearly distracted by the camera.

“You there baby?” He chuckled at camera as you nodded dumbly.

“I miss you rafe”

“Miss you too sweets” his smile dropped, replaced by something more tender as you quickly made a silly excuse about the oven, before hanging up to quickly rush to the bathroom and wipe your tears.

You clicked your phone open to see a small message

One more sleep xx

- fee xxx

[honeyhour]

“it seemed never-ending at the time, but i suppose a lack of sleep will do that to you. we were running on empty and didn’t get to appreciate it for what it was… i felt like a zombie most days and probably looked like one too.” while she’s grateful that rosie growing up comes with the benefit of being able to sleep for longer than two hours every night, she’s yet to stop feeling guilty for wasting the time she had with her during those first precious months of life. so much of it was spent angry and upset. no wonder the baby hadn’t been the only one crying. “are you sure? because believe me, it didn’t feel like i won any of it.” regardless of how good her argument was, the second he chose to leave instead of attempting to talk it through, they both lost. “you’re right though, it’ll be different now. fair fight or not, i’m pretty confident i can come out on top.” and knowing bash, she’s sure there will be plenty of chances for her to test that theory. with a smile still playing at her lips, lily gives his hand a gentle squeeze. “actually, i think i know you better than most. i was just being generous and giving you the benefit of the doubt this whole time, but i suppose the illusion had to shatter eventually... you did well to last this long.”

"it.... was difficult. i know that i'm not really one to complain about just how much but i just felt like there was always something to do, something to think about. my head was just filled with stuff! but now that i'm looking back on it, it's hard to really pinpoint what." it was all a blur, really, which does pain him a bit to think about. having a newborn is something to be celebrated but a lot of what he can remember was the screaming and yelling that just managed to cut through the haziness in his head, his ears. "as much as i don't want to admit it, you've won everything by default up to this point. every argument, every screaming match. why do you think i kept leaving when you were pulling ahead? i just had a hard time accepting the fact. moving forward though?" bash pauses, lowering her hand down to his chest while the other comes to cup her cheek, "it's a fair fight and i will not let you win because she's not a newborn anymore." whatever serious facade he tries to pull quickly comes and goes, laughter bursting forth in full. "it took you this long to realize the extent of my stupidity? my goodness, liliana, you really don't know me at all do you?"

[e-vay]

Your Music Suggestions

I received a lot of messages in my inbox for music recommendations or song-related asks and instead of commenting on them one-by-one I figured I'd lump them together! Enjoy and thanks for sharing!

Anon asked: Have you listened to "Waiting For The Night" by Armin Van Buuren? If not you have to it's so good🤭 I go right to sleep when I listen to it😴

E: I had never heard of that before. That was super pretty! It's interesting that it makes you sleepy, whereas I think it's a song you'd hear at a club to get you pumped. Either way, thank you for sharing!

Anon asked: So I don’t know if you heard of Epic the musical. But there is a song called “Would you fall in love with me again?” And I can picture Shadow and Aurora in the context of the song. Especially if shadow had just finished dealing with the Black Arms for good and isn’t sure if he would ever be himself. If you haven’t heard the musical, I highly recommend it

E: YES I know Epic and I love it! (and I'm regularly going "🎶𝔭𝔢𝓝𝓔𝓵𝔬𝔭𝓮𝓔𝓔𝓔🎶" because of it haha). That song makes me cry! And now I'm crying even more that you put it in the context of Shadora 😭 Yes I think that's a perfect fit, especially because no matter what, Shadow will always be Shadow! AH! Thank you for sharing that with me!

Anon said: Hey Evay! Give a listen to Stupid Heart by Sorana! This song reminds me so much of an Amy pov, in the beginning before she eventually does end up with Sonic 😊 This artist is actually Romanian, which is what language the original song is in! The lyrics used translated in English is: “You want to leave but won’t take me with you, won’t take me with you, won’t take me with you | Your face and the love in the linden tree reminds me of your eyes” The original song is hard to translate apparently but it’s about love at first sight :) I thought that was pretty cool lore added to an internet classic haha (I’m assuming you must know of the numa numa guy, considering you’ve been on the internet for a long time like me!)

E: I could totally see what you mean by saying this song makes you think of Amy. That was really catchy! And it played on my nostalgia for sure, because yes I am very familiar with the original "Dragostea Din Tei" song haha. Thank you so much for sharing!

Anon said: you’ve probably been sent this a thousand times but I need to know that you know about this (also I love your art 🥹❤️)

E: "My Favorite Thing" IS my favorite thing! The first time I heard it I had to pinch myself because I was like "Is this real or am I dreaming right now?!" I know it's not canon and that Jun'ichi Kanamaru and Taeko Kawada only sang it for fun, but oh my god it fills my heart so much. And it's canon to ME! Also thank you so much, I'm so happy you like my art!

mariahdoby13 asked: What if Aurora listens to die with a smile by Lady Gaga featuring Bruno Mars what was her reaction while listening to the song?

E: That was beautiful! That's definitely one of those songs she'd be listening to on repeat and just crying her eyes out haha

lucidheart3 said: Recently I stumbled upon the song Yours by Post Malone and it reminded me of Shadow and Sonic’s dynamic and wanted to share it with you alongside my thanks!

E: Oh my GOD 😭 These father-talking-about-his-daughter-getting-married songs are KILLING ME! I do think this song is especially fitting, since even though the song is emotional, it's actually kind of threatening haha. VERY on brand for my depiction of Overprotective!Sonic. Thank you so much for sharing, it made me cry!

theaussieblue said: I was reading your comics when this came on, and for some strange reason all I could think of was Shadow's endless journey through space for the woman who had taken his heart.

E: Whoa. I'm really honored that this song made you think of them and I can totally see it too! There's such a haunting sadness to the music that really resonates with that portion of my AU's story. I know I always kind of answer asks with a blunt "Shadow's been in space for most of my AU" but without having written the story into a proper fic yet, I don't think I've done a great job of emphasizing how sad that is meant to be. In trying to find the person he wants to spend the rest of his life with, he ends up spending decades on his own in the loneliest place imaginable: outer space! I'm thankful that you were able to feel what I was going for, even if it was with the aid of music. Thank you for sharing, I added it to my Shadora playlist.

Anon said: Have you ever heard the song Not Now by Blink 182? Man, ok idk if this is going to make sense so try to stay with me haha but I was listening to it the other day and the lyrics remind me soooo much of like, a scenario of what Sonic’s inner struggle might be trying to control Dark Sonic & it’s (the lyrics) directed towards Amy. Please tell me you understand and see the visionnnnn!! Lmao I have no one to share this with and I’m going feral over it 😂 (I looove me some dark sonic sonamy struggles )

E: First of all, you had me at Blink 182 lol. You're speaking directly to my alt/punk rock heart! Secondly, I LOVE that little music video you have in your head and I can totally see it! Ahh don't you just love how our brains are able to make up these cinematic pieces to songs?! I hope you have the encouragement you need to write this into a fic or make it into a drawing some day because I'd love to see it! I, too, love the drama of either Sonic or Amy succumbing to the darkness and it's the other that is their lifeline to returning to the light. 😩🤌❤️ Thanks for sharing your vision with me!

inkheartart said: Hi, just curious if you're still taking suggestions for your Sonamy Playlist because I have few. If that's all right. Stand by you - Rachell Platten | I really like you - Carly Rae Jepson | Wildfire - Smash Into Pieces | Love me like you do - Ellie Goulding | Sledgehammer - Fifth Harmony | Love's just a feeling - Lindsey Stirling

E: So many of your suggestions are on point! Admittedly, "Stand By You" is one of those songs that I repeatedly add and remove to the Sonamy playlist. It is 100% them but the only reason I sometimes take it off is because I end up hearing it too many times haha. Also "Sledgehammer" is seriously Amy's unofficial theme! 😍 Thank you so much for sharing these with me! I even added a few of them to the playlist 😊

blueblur4 said: Sonic sings Golden Hour by JVKE to Amy, saying how she looked in his eyes when he first met her, meaning he's confessing his feelings for her. Than on their 30th wedding anniversary Sonic sings it again for Amy for an anniversary gift. When Sonic finishes Amy says, "I remember you singing me that" or "I haven't heard you sing that sing in forever." Meanwhile Aurora is surprised that her dad can sing.

E: That's such a beautiful idea! I really like the idea of Sonic choosing to sing the same song to her at such a milestone anniversary, because I'm sure Amy might have thought he'd have forgotten something like that. It's so sweet!

saphstories said: NO BUT LISTEN I JUST HAD THE CUTEST/FUNNIEST IDEA FOR SHADORA: Shadow goes over to Aurora's house either to pick her up for a date or just hang out and sneaks up to her window (he just seemed a little bit comfy on the window sill in FPS so me theorizing that's a normal thing) and she's listening to music and singing along (Rory being Rory) but Shadow is /shook/ that she's listening to Crush 40...Specifically I Am All Of Me. He doesn't know whether to laugh or be embarrassed but as always when Aurora sings or something he enjoys the show and she's so swept up in it that she doesn't even realize he's there watching her...until she turns around and his sudden appearance scares the bejeepers out of her. Now Shadow starts laughing and Rory's like "Oh yeah?" And to get him back starts BLASTING AT FULL VOLUME: "All Hail Shadow." Singing and dancing so exaggeratedly that Shadow gets embarrassed but goes in to have fun with her (whatever that looks like, dancing and singing or even some air guitaring?)...and then they both get busted because "AURORA TURN THAT DOWN!"

E: LISTEN. If the themes from the games exist in Sonic's world for real, the second Aurora discovered "All Hail Shadow" not only would that song would be blasting NONSTOP because internally she's like "Hell yeah that's my beau" but she would ABSO-LUTELY tease Shadow about it. I just adore this scenario you've described! You totally get the fun energy that I try to build between the two (in addition to the more sappier, romantic stuff). This made me smile!

Anon said: I have a recommended song from a YouTuber that I sometimes watch,it’s called puzzle park,you might like it.

E: I have no idea what this is but I tell you what, that was an absolute blast. I like villain songs and this was giving serious 'villainous vibes' so that was fun!

heroofchaos asked: Have you ever heard a country song called "The Painter"? its by Cody Johnson and I ask because about 3-4 weeks after it hit the radios I suddenly heard Shadow and Aurora in the lyrics.

E: Aw! I had never heard this song before you told me about it. I agree, I think it fits them very well! Aurora is very much an optimist and so she has a very different way of seeing the world than Shadow originally did. Thank you for sending that to me!

pellet-the-cat said: I cannot get this out of my head! Since you headcanon Jeremy Jordan as Rory's Voice, how cool would it be to have Gender Swapped Boon be voiced by Erika Henningsen?🤩

E: This message was not exactly related to a song but I wanted to include it because now it's completely changed how I think about "More Than Anything" (For the better!) 😭 Now when I listen to it, I'm picturing Rory and Boon singing it together (even if it doesn't fit their story, their voices sound so dang good together!). This was such a cool idea, thanks for sharing!

[beardedmrbean]

A bustling shopping district in Chicago known as the “Mexico of the Midwest” has seen foot traffic plummet by 50% — as residents say they fear the immigration raids promised by President Trump.

The sidewalks were empty and some businesses were closed along a two-mile stretch of shops and restaurants on 26th Street in Chicago’s Little Village — the Windy City’s second-busiest retail corridor —  as Trump was sworn into office Monday.

“It’s going to be disastrous,” Jennifer Aguilar, head of the local chamber of commerce, told Bloomberg.

“If raids happen and people are too afraid to go out, it’s going to be an impact that’s going to last for years.”

Many of the roughly 400 businesses in the predominantly Latino area said foot traffic was down 50% as immigration raids were expected to start soon, Aguilar told the outlet.

Mike Rodriguez, an alderman for the 22nd Ward, which includes Little Village, told Bloomberg that businesses and residents are worried.

“People were staying home,” Mike Rodriguez, an alderman for the 22nd Ward, also told Bloomberg.

“They were fearful of engaging with ICE,” he said, while putting some of it down also to the cold.

A restaurateur originally from Mexico but now an American citizen said some of his employees have stopped showing up to work after he gave them the option.

“This is about how we are going to survive this — and I’m not just talking about my employees, I’m talking about the whole customer base,” he told the outlet.

The typically thriving commercial neighborhood generates more tax revenue to City Hall than any other retail stretch aside from Chicago’s iconic Magnificent Mile, lined by luxury shops.

Deportation raids were reportedly scheduled to begin after Trump’s inauguration — but were later put on hold for now after the element of surprise was lost, multiple law enforcement sources told The Post.

New “border czar” Tom Homan, who had promised to target Chicago first in December, told CNN Tuesday the federal agency will initially round up migrants with criminal records — but if other undocumented immigrants are encountered, they will also be detained.

Illinois’ Democratic Gov. JB Pritzker told reporters Tuesday that ICE is targeting as many as 2,000 people.

“I want to be clear about what my position is and what the law is here: If there are violent criminals who have been convicted of violent crimes, who are undocumented, they are supposed to be deported,” he said.

On his first day back in the White House, Trump signed executive orders ending birthright citizenship for children of illegal immigrants in an executive order and sending troops to seize control of the southern border.

The Trump administration also announced it will end asylum and will close the border to illegal immigrants.

US Customs and Border Protection agents have also ended the Biden administration’s “catch and release” policy. On Trump’s orders, migrants caught crossing the border illegally will no longer be set free in the US while they await immigration hearings. Instead, they’ll be detained until they can be deported, Homeland Security sources told The Post on Tuesday.

Some migrants who had been waiting weeks to enter the US using the CBP One app broke down crying when the app shut down when Trump was sworn in.

[lunerna21]

...I've been out of touch for a while, getting over the shit I dealt with last year, but I NEED TO POST BEFORE THEY DO THE UPDATE ON THE JPN SERVER!!

***SPOILERS FOR BOOK 7 JPN SERVER CONTENT AHEAD! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!***

I waited for a bit for the update on Leona's dream, but IM SO HAPPY THAT THEY GOT THE REDEMPTION THEY DESERVED!

Um can we talk about how Azul handled traveling into Jack's dream?! Being unconscious, yet he was stiff as a board with his eyes opened

I WAS HYSTERICAL I HAD TO PAUSE BUT POOR AZUL GETTING THE SHIT END OF THE STICK 😂👏🏻

He always gets fed weird things and can barely do his flight lessons; he's just too much lol

But Idia and everyone being freaked out about fake Leona being so passionate about Spelldrive, that gave me such a good chuckle, lol cause who can blame them seeing Leona in that way 😂

Jack's dream about how he imagined the Spelldrive tournament was tough. He has so much respect and admiration for Leona and Ruggie, but it was so tough watching him acknowledge what really happened

JACK HOWL IS THE ABSOLUTE CUTEST AND MOST MATURE OUT OF EVERYONE IN NRC (and that's crazy considering he's a freakin 1st year 😂)

But it was such a relief having back on our team 😭💙

AND WHEN JACK WAS GIVING US CREDIT FOR HOW LONG WE'VE BEEN HELPING WAKE UP EVERYONE, I WOULD'VE TACKLED HIM AND GIVEN HIM THE BIGGEST BEAR HUG POSSIBLE!!!

Now, Ruggie's dream I knew I might have a hard time. I lost my dad 11 years ago now, but learning all about Ruggie and how much he endured, I have to give Ruggie so much fucking credit and he has always been a favorite character of mine too

If I had a dream where my dad is alive, I think it would be so difficult or tough to cope with it again and go back to a life without them. But also people process pain differently, and I feel like Ruggie is such a strong person, dealing with everything thrown his way yet still being dedicated to a better life for him and his grandmother, even the community at home

But anyway, I also love his card and it's one of my favorites so far in Book 7 🥺❤️

I was kind of shocked that he didn't have Leona or Jack in his dream, but even not knowing Leona personally in his dream, he still respects him and that's the same with how much he respects Leona at NRC

...But Azul literally throwing madol coins and Ruggie literally knowing what coin they were to awaken him?! Azul and Ruggie are just all over the place but they're some of my favorites 😂

Finally, Leona's dream!?! It was just like the original movie after Scar took over! It was so cool seeing the similarities between Leona and Scar!

UMMM CAN WE TALK ABOUT BOTH CHEKA AND FALENA BOTH DIED!? I WAS NOT PREPARED FOR THAT! ITS SO SAD

Kifaji looking after Leona too, even when he wasn't benefiting the kingdom, AND ACTUALLY BEING A GOOD NPC IN LEONA'S DREAM!? OH MY GOD I WAS LOSING IT. KIFAJI CARES AND RESPECTS LEONA SO MUCH IT WAS TOO MUCH TO HANDLE

And again, Leona facing himself and battling in his overblot form!? Fucking amazing!

The growth that Leona has especially shown since Book 2 and Book 6 is like night and day. He's not going to let anyone stop him anymore, and he can still dictate his future and what he can have control over his life. FUCK YES LEONA, I MISSED YOU SO MUCH TOO! 😭❤️

And then Jack is crying about being reunited with Ruggie and Leona!? I was joining him sobbing; he's adorable 😭❤️

This redemption chapter was needed so badly for Savanaclaw. I love these guys so much, but I'm so happy they're (kinda) reunited again!

I WILL DIE SEEING THEM IN COMBAT AND ATTEMPTING TO BEAT THE SHIT OUT OF MALLEUS

IM READYYYYY!!

...Soon I'll do my thought on:

DEUCEEEEEEEEEEE *explodes into a million pieces*

[rilowizardshaddow]

Tomarry tag you're it WIP folder game!

The person who tag me was @oldangryslytherin , the prompt she gave me was Stalker/Stalker.

After being tagged, you enter in contact with the person who tagged you and receive a prompt

Stalker/Stalker

I spiced up a little bit. This is a Stalker/Murder Stalker, Student/Professor au. Hope you like it

The first time Harry saw Tom, it was the tenth of february in twenty twenty-four at the university where Harry studied. Tom was heading out of the university campus, looking at his clock as if he was late for something.

Harry couldn’t help but look–Tom was beautiful.

He started attending each of Tom's classes, just to catch a glimpse of him. The way Tom lectured, wet his lips after talking for minutes about subjects Harry didn’t care about, ran his fingers through his hair, walked through the halls, the perfume he wore, the way he spoke softly, the smiles–all of it. Harry was sure these actions were meant for him. How could they not be?

The building where Tom taught was far from Harry's usual path, but he couldn’t stop himself from going to Tom’s classes. He couldn’t stop himself from wondering about Tom's life. Where did he live? What did he do in his free time? Who did he talk to? Did he have a lover? Did he bring someone home? Harry was consumed by thoughts of Tom. Somehow, he felt they were meant to be. Of course they were.

Tom liked the same things as Harry–the same music, the same series, the same movies, the same sport, they even shared favorite meals. They were perfect for each other.

From every picture Harry secretly took of Tom, he wrote down where it was taken. For everyone who interacted with Tom, Harry described the interaction.

He wanted to know everything about Tom, even in the smallest details, even the things that didn't matter.

But that was no longer enough. Harry because want it all. Everything Tom can give him, and everything he would never be able to. He want Tom every moment, in every sense that wanting could mean. He wants Tom in the literary and carnal sense, he wants to know what Tom's touch is like, what the heat of his skin is like, what his lips feel like.

He wants Tom to have no choice but to be his, and when Tom finally was, he would realize they were meant to be together.

Friday, the nineteenth of may, twenty twenty-three. That was the first time Tom saw Harry. It was at a pub. Harry was mixing extremely complicated drinks for people who didn’t seem grateful enough. Even though Harry was kind to everyone, even those who didn’t deserve it, Tom could see how much he despised all of them—just like him.

Tom started to go to the pub every day Harry worked. One day, he saw Harry laughing and celebrating something with his friends. Tom remembered thinking how beautiful Harry’s smile was and how great he looked. That was until a woman, not much younger than Harry himself, sat on Harry's lap.

Tom saw not only red; he saw carmine.

For Tom, hate wasn’t foreign. It was well known—something that burned inside of him since he was young. Hatred was the first feeling he ever remembered feeling. And it was hatred that drove him to keep stabbing that redhead on her way home. He took her belongings, her money, and threw it all into a river, since no one would need them now.

He went to her funeral, hoping to see Harry there, since he wasn’t going to the pub anymore. The funeral was full. Fuller than he thought his own mother’s funeral had been. The whole city was there. The death of that redhead made her a martyr for the city. There were more police around, and people were definitely more cautious. They became scared of dying while trying to escape from an assault.

There were many sad faces, and there was Harry. Harry crying was as beautiful as Harry smiling.

For a month, that was the only thing people talked about. For a month, Tom didn’t see Harry at the pub. And when that month ended, they locked up someone for her murder—a crackhead too high to know anything. After that, things went back to normal.

Harry wasn’t as cheerful as before, but Tom thought he was charming anyway. Slowly, Tom’s routine became stable again. That was until Harry appeared at the pub wearing his university jumper. Written in big red and yellow letters was: “Potter Rugby Captain, University of Hogwarts.”

That sparked something inside of Tom. He had never tried to look for Harry outside the pub, but now, he was eager to. He wanted to track Harry’s every movement.

It wasn’t hard to get the position as a biochemistry professor at Hogwarts, especially after the previous professor’s disappearance. Tom always looked for Harry in the halls and on campus, but he was never lucky enough to find him. Occasionally, though, he would discreetly watch Harry play rugby, and when asked, he would simply say he liked the sport.

Tom hadn’t anticipated how his schedule would be, so seeing Harry at the pub had become impossible. But he wasn’t angry or sad, because he saw Harry in every class he lectured. Harry was always looking at him, seemingly unable to focus on anything else.

And every time Tom’s eyes found Harry’s, he was certain: they were made for each other.

That was it!

I'm sorry for any grammatical mistakes 😫🤞

@a-bored-idiot Tag your it, now it's your turn to make a Wip!

[lucc4-luck]

Why doesn't childhood come back? Grow-up life is bad and boring

I don't want to grow up anymore

I want everything to go back to how it was before, I don't like the new

Change is boring, growing up is boring

I hate changes

[meowsticmarvels]

posted this on twt but god. i have talked a lot about how insane phi's character is to me but it's just. i will never get over how for most of both vlr and ztd she's relatively cold and unemotional but ztd has moments where she just. breaks. i.e. the shoot:live option of fire where she literally breaks down crying and can barely get a sentence out even BEFORE diana kills herself. or in the final decision when she fucking YELLS at delta and kicks him in the face not even out of reasons like with dio but out of sheer anger for everything he's put her though. like IDK. i fold easily for the "unemotional character is pushed to their breaking point and shows MUCH more emotion than usual" trope but its so fucking interesting. phi i love you we will get you therapy

[seventh-district]

7am, eating cold leftover teriyaki stir-fry for breakfast and crying over blorbos