#That's a lot names so I'm not gonna write them all

[fangirl-writes]

Insufferable

JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

Warning(s): Kissing, weed smoking, no swearing in this one surprisingly.

Request: Hi! I notice you haven't posted in while, so it's chill if you don't get to this request. I just really like your fics. I was wondering if you could write a JJ Maybank x Reader from the perspective of the Charleston episode in season 2? I was thinking J and reader are in a relationship already, and most of it's just them talking and bantering with Pope and Kie, and maybe cuddling/giggling/kissing on/in the truck? I think it'd be cute! Love your stuff!

Notes: This was fun. Usually these fics have more of the actual plot going on that I have to weave in and out of, but this one I was able to keep it to the one scene or so scene that was requested.

There were a lot of worse situations to be in.

Sitting in the back of Pope's dad's truck on the ferry on your way to Charleston and passing a blunt back and forth with JJ was pretty good, all things considered.

Pope and Kie were perched on the tailgate while you and JJ's backs were against the window.

"Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?" JJ said.

"You talking to me or the weed?" you joked.

"Oh, you're beautiful, too, baby," JJ joked back, blowing his smoke in your face.

You laughed, shoving him and stealing the blunt from between his fingers.

"Asshole," you said, affectionately.

"Can you two focus?" Pope said, frowning. "We're trying to clear John B.'s name here. And right now this letter's our best bet."

"Right. Stay on task," JJ said as you discreetly passed the blunt to Kiara. "That's why I love ya, Pope."

Kie took a hit before standing up and handing it to him. "Which Pope you gonna be today?"

Pope considered it for a moment, eyes darting between the blunt and Kiara's face. "I'm good."

He shifted back a little, folding his hands.

"I'm gonna try to stay focused."

"Good Pope," Kiara said, disappointedly taking another hit before passing you back the joint.

"Boring Pope," you joked.

"I'll take that," JJ said, reaching for the joint that you quickly pulled out of his reach.

Pope threw his legs over the side of the truck and hopped out of the bed, leaning against the side as you dangled it above JJ's head.

"Sit, boy! Speak!" you said.

"Arf!" JJ responded, biting at the joint like a dog vying for a treat.

You laughed, allowing him to grab it and scratching behind his ear playfully. "Good boy!"

"You two are disgusting," Kiara said, laying down on her back in the bed of the truck with her feet propped up on the side.

"You're just jealous," JJ said, inhaling deeply and opening his mouth to let the smoke fly out.

"Right, that's it," Kiara said, sarcastically, taking the joint and another hit.

JJ leaned over and began whispering in your ear, biting at your ear lobe a little, making you giggle.

"C'mon, baby, give me a kiss," JJ said, puckering his lips at you.

You and JJ were never shy about being affectionate, sometimes to the point of grossing the other pogues out if you got a little too lost in it.

But you were proud of your relationship with JJ and weren't afraid to show everyone who he belonged to.

Especially when tourons or kooks would leer at him at parties.

It was nice to walk up to JJ and kiss him square on the mouth and watch those other girls' jaws drop when JJ practically turned into a puddle at your feet.

You pecked his lips.

"Just because you've been such a good boy," you said, giggling.

Kiara was practically asleep and Pope had taken off on a walk somewhere, so you allowed JJ to kiss you a little harder for a moment.

"If you two are gonna suck face, could you at least have the decency to do it inside the truck?" Kiara asked, eyes still closed.

You snorted, pulling away from JJ with a laugh.

JJ smirked. "If we did that, you might not want to get back in it later."

You laughed harder and Kiara made a disgusted face before kicking JJ with her foot.

The bliss wouldn't last.

As always, the pogues encountered a bump in their road.

More specifically, Pope's dad's truck's radiator blew and they had to one: get it towed, two: get it fixed, and three: find someplace to crash for the night.

Which ended up being an empty patch of grass where they could park the truck and sleep in the bed.

Thankfully, Pope's dad kept the thing practically stuffed with blankets and towels you could lay out for a…reasonably comfortable sleep.

It wasn't a memory foam mattress or anything, but it wasn't so bad.

You cuddled up to JJ, laying your head on his chest and he put an arm around you.

"Looks like it's slumming it for you and me again, huh?" JJ mumbled, sliding his cap over his eyes.

You hummed. "Well, anything's better than that time you convinced me to sleep in the tree by John B.'s house. I had bark marks for a week."

"Yeah, that was my bad," JJ admitted, smiling a little.

"Doesn't beat the hammock, though," you said.

JJ hummed.

The hammocks that hung around the trees of the chateau were your and JJ's favorite cuddle spot, where you snuck out to whenever you could.

No funny business could go on in them though, unless you wanted to end up face down in the dirt…which may or may not have happened a time or two.

…What? Sometimes the two of you just can't keep your hands to yourselves.

You yawned.

"Good night everyone," Pope said, lying down.

You and JJ shared a look as Kiara leaned over and kissed Pope on the cheek.

"Good night," she said.

You snuggled a little closer to JJ and he tucked you carefully in his arms before closing his eyes and letting sleep take him.

"Wonder where John B. and Sarah are right now," he said, before finally drifting off.

[harmless-variety-of-garden-snake]

I chose an alternate prompt for Day Nine of Bucktommy Fluffebruary: Drunken Love Confessions. Tommy's is really the prompt filling one, but everyone feels the love in this Chili's tonight. I realized I completely forgot this entire time that Melton is a Captain, so I've been writing him as just one of the other firefighters and made up some guy named Bryant that I mention in at least one other prompt fill. Melton bb I'm so sorry. You'll get that promotion soon. Tagging @bucktommyfluffebruary.

A joint bachelor party had been Tommy’s idea, because they’d fought over who got who as a guest for about five minutes before Tommy realized they had almost all the same friends. So why bother splitting the party up?

Maddie, Eddie, and Sal organize it as Evan’s co-Best Man and Woman and Tommy’s Best Man, and it turns into a bar crawl with a couple stops at places to get real food with a karaoke spot as their final destination. That had been Howie’s touch, because he felt guilty for missing the last karaoke bachelor party even though it was through no fault of his own. Plus, who doesn’t like karaoke?

The thing is, the last bar had been a tiki place, and tiki drinks are strong, so they’re all messes by the time they reach the karaoke place. Tommy claims a corner of the couch and pulls Evan into his lap when his fiancé passes by.

“You’re so-o pretty,” Tommy says, because Evan is so pretty. No one prettier has ever existed, and it’s a thought he’s had while he was sober, so it’s true.

“You’re pretty,” Evan counters, cupping his chin and squeezing so Tommy’s lips pucker. When Evan kisses him, it’s sloppy and probably not appropriate for their friends and family, but it’s a bachelor party. It’s two bachelor parties, actually they’re supposed to have double the debauchery.

“Are you gonna give me a lapdance later?” Tommy asks, squeezing his hip.

“Maybe,” Evan says, licking his lips, and Tommy watches his tongue raptly. He wants to chase it with his own, wants to feel it trace along his—

“Oh, my god, I’m going to dump water on you two in a minute,” Karen says, plopping down next to them. “Which one of you is singing with me?”

“Me,” Tommy says, grinning at her. He loves singing with Karen. She’s one of the best singers he’s ever met in his life, so he likes being around her when she sings. He’s not very good, but she doesn’t judge him.

“My Sonny,” she coos, pinching his cheek.

“My Cher,” he sighs.

Sonny Bono was known for two things: being Italian and not being as good a singer as Cher. Well, he was known for other things, too, but that isn’t relevant to Tommy’s situation. He doesn't plan on becoming a Republican, the mayor of Palm Springs, or a U.S. Representative. He does, however, plan on doing his best to croon along with Karen to “I Got You Babe” or “All I Ever Need Is You,” because she gets to belt more lines in that one and he wants to show her off.

There’s a bit of hubbub near the door to their suite, and then Bobby and Athena appear with a cake between them to a lot of cheers. They hadn’t joined them on the bar crawl, because Athena had said it would feel too much like Mom and Dad crashing their kids’ party. Tommy’s delighted to see them, because he hadn’t been expecting them at all. He and Evan cheer, and Evan wobbles out of his lap to hug them as soon as the cake is set on the table. Tommy gets hauled up by Hen so he can do the same thing, because the couch is deep and he is tall and drunk.

“You good?” Hen asks, and Tommy squeezes the back of her neck with a laugh.

“I'm great,” he says, leaving a wet kiss on her cheek.

Hen laughs and holds his head in place so she can do the same, and they end up simultaneously wiping slobber off their cheeks and giggling together on their way over to Bobby and Athena.

He’s gotten really close with Bobby and Athena ever since he and Evan got back together, but he’s not really a hugger with them. He is, however, drunk enough that it seems like a great time to turn into one. As he’s enveloped in Bobby’s arms and then stoops to have Athena do the same, he thinks it’s a good thing to keep going.

“Don’t be too happy to see us yet,” Athena warns, nodding toward the cake. “Hen ordered it.”

“I'm always happy to see a cake,” Tommy says, grinning. When he finally gets a good look at it, though, he bursts out laughing.

It’s unbelievably stupid, and Tommy whips out his phone to take several photos from many different angles, including one of Evan crouched next to it with his tongue near the one that’s shaped—presumably—like Tommy’s ass. It's one of those molded sexy cakes, and it’s two shapely naked asses seen under the hem of non-regulation turnout jackets—they’d never sit that high—with each of their names “sewn” on the hem. Each of their surnames has been added to the other to make it look like it’s handwritten into the correct spot to make them say “Buckley-Kinard.”

He loves it.

He loves everyone in this room so much.

“We should've had this be the wedding cake,” Evan says as he slips his arm around Tommy's waist. They pose next to the cake for pictures.

“Looks like I get to eat your ass twice tonight,” Tommy murmurs through his teeth as Howie takes their picture.

Howie bursts out laughing and shows them the picture. Evan’s face is caught between a grin and surprise, so his eyebrows are up near his hairline and his face is bright red.

“The hell did you say to him, BK?” Lucy asks, elbowing him.

“Not telling,” Tommy says, hugging his fiancé like a teddy bear. “She started calling me that last week. Know why?”

“It's your new last name initials in a week?” Evan guesses, because he's smart. He's so smart and pretty, and Tommy is the luckiest guy in the world.

“Yeah,” he confirms with a happy sigh, getting caught in his fiancé’s eyes for a moment.

“Alright, now that everyone’s here,” Sal says on the microphone, even though they’re in a small room and everyone could hear him if he just raised his voice enough, “I’d like to say a couple words, because there’s some stuff I can’t say in my Best Man speech. Such as: is anyone else dreading having to knock real loud going into every room these two are in for the next few months?”

“We already do that!” Ravi calls, and Tommy buries his face in his hands to hide his flushed, embarrassed giggles. Evan tightens his arms around him and kisses under his ear with a breathless giggle of his own.

“Seriously, I’ve started bringing earplugs if I’m going to crash in their guest room,” Sal adds, grinning. “I haven’t seen two people so into each other since I met Gina and got charged with public indecency twice—”

“Should’ve been three times,” Athena adds.

He points to her and grins. “And I thank you for that, Sarge. But it’s bad enough that I’ve had to start putting fuckin’ blinders on whenever Tommy opens his phone around me—well done, Buckley, by the way, you got a real eye for photography—but they’re also so in love with each other that it makes the rest of us look bad. I can only hope that they chill out in the next fifty years, but we all know we’re still going to be loudly announcing ourselves before we turn a corner even when they’re retired.

“So congratulations, boys, on finding true love, holding onto it, and never letting go of it,” he continues, his grin widening. “And never letting go of other things, apparently. To Tommy and Buck!”

Everyone cheers and echoes his toast, and Tommy is never going to be able to look any of them in the eye again.

“We’re not that bad, are we?” he asks, and Evan laughs loudly in his ear.

“Baby, we’re worse.” He nuzzles his cheek and murmurs, “They don’t even know what we get up to in our own house.”

Tommy bites his lip and is about to respond when he hears Sal call, “See what I mean?”

“Shut up,” Tommy says, throwing a balled up napkin at him. “Maddie, would you like to make an inappropriate speech?”

“I’m alright,” she says, grinning. “I changed Buck’s diapers, so it would be a little weird. Also, I make a lot of noise when I’m in your house for a reason. I don’t need to see all that.”

“I told you!” Evan says to Tommy, who had believed that Maddie was just comfortable at their house.

“Eddie?” Sal offers, and Eddie comes up to the platform acting as the stage, looping an arm around Sal’s shoulders.

“This guy is right,” he says, nodding toward Sal. “But he doesn’t have to work with Buck. So let me tell you all about how I walked in on these two Facetiming while Buck was in the showers. Thankfully, Buck’s got waterproof earbuds. Unfortunately, I could still hear him speak.”

“Oh no,” Evan groans, hiding his face in his hands. “Eddie, you said you were going to be washing the engine.”

“Yeah, and then Joey from B-shift kindly offered to do it instead, so I wandered my happy ass into the showers and heard my best friend complain, ‘But it won’t fit,’” he says, his voice taking on a high, breathy quality. “And then: ‘You’re going to have to force it.’ So I, being a family man—shut up, Chimney—loudly announced myself to the room, because what if Cap walked in? What if Hen walked in? What if literally anyone walked in?”

“Should I be hearing this?” Maddie asks.

“And I hear Buck call, ‘Hey, Eddie, Tommy might need you to help him drop in this transmission after work if you’re free,’” Eddie says flatly, and the whole room erupts in laughter. “And, yes, I did help, because that Chevelle was beautiful. Do I believe that they were actually talking about a transmission? I do, because otherwise I’d need to pour bleach in my ears. Is it very telling that I genuinely thought they’d get up to that kind of thing at literally any time of day when one or both of them is working? Yeah, a little. You guys are unbelievable. I love you both, I can’t wait to be there for you guys when you get married. I thank you for including my son in your ceremony, because he loves both of you more than you’ll ever know, but keep it PG around the kid, okay?”

“We always do!” Evan protests.

“No, we do,” Tommy agrees quickly as Eddie comes to them for hugs. “I promise.”

“Oh, I know, or I’d be making you answer whatever questions he’d be asking,” Eddie says, patting his cheek.

“Let’s get a groom up here,” Sal says to a round of cheers.

“Alright,” Tommy says, kissing Evan before going to Sal and grabbing the mic. “Alright, I get it, we’ll—well, I’m sorry, I can’t make any promises other than ‘we’ll try.’ But—Sal, sit down, you mook—I swear we don’t mean to be that bad. Anyway, I am not standing here to defend our very healthy and normal attraction to each other—”

“Oh, my god,” Evan says, burying his face in his hands as Eddie cackles next to him.

“—I’m here to thank you all for putting up with us,” Tommy says, looking out at the grinning faces of everyone he loves, even though they’re all a little blurry. “And for being there for us through everything, good and bad, and being people we can go to when things are bad or I’m freaking out about proposing or whatever it is I’m freaking out about at the time. I love you guys so much. You’re all amazing and wonderful, and sometimes I have to remind myself this isn’t a dream, because you’re the family I always wanted but didn’t think I’d get. So, thank you. I love you, thank you for being here and for always being there for us. Someone please take this microphone from me.”

Howie rushes the platform to hug him around the middle, and then Maddie, Karen, Hen, Lucy, Ravi, Melton, Eddie, and Sal follow until Tommy is in the center of a group hug. He can see over almost everyone’s heads, and so he can see the way Evan’s beaming at him with tear-filled eyes and the way that Bobby and Athena go to either side of his fiancé to put an arm around him and smile at Tommy, too.

There’s a chorus of “We love you”s from everyone, and then Tommy wrestles his arm free so he can bring the mic to his lips.

“Alright, who’s first on the list?” he asks.

“Me!” Lucy calls, making grabby hands for the mic.

He hands it off and detangles himself from the group so he can go to the three people standing off to the side.

“Liquid courage?” Athena guesses, patting his cheek with a fond smile.

“Yeah, a little,” Tommy admits, grinning. “That obvious?”

She snorts and fixes him with a knowing look. “Only to anyone with eyes.”

He gets a tight hug from a damp-eyed Bobby, who gruffly tells him he's proud of him and that he loves him, too. Tommy kind of sags against him for a second before getting a full-bodied hug from Athena that shouldn’t make him feel so small, and then there’s Evan in front of him.

“I love you,” Tommy says, his insides gooey and molten like they always are when Evan’s smiling at him like that. “Most of all.”

Evan steps into his space and puts his arms around him, crossing his wrists behind Tommy’s neck. “I love you most of all, too. You’re so drunk, babe.”

“I am.” He hugs Evan around the middle and rubs his cheek on the soft sweater he’s wearing. It feels nice. “Do we really scar them that much?”

Evan’s body shakes against his with laughter. “Yeah, I think we do.”

“Should we stop?”

“Nah, we’ll enjoy it while it lasts. Kids’ll probably slow us down.”

Tommy melts against Evan, letting him take his entire weight. Kids. They’ll have kids one day, and maybe grandkids, and he’s going to be scared out of his mind that he’s going to fuck them up and he has an entire group of people to turn to when that happens. It takes a village, and he has one. He knows he’s crying, but they’re happy tears. His face is also hidden in Evan’s neck, so no one can see.

But he doesn’t really care if they do. They’re family. Family cries around each other and doesn’t judge. Real families, at least, like theirs.

He sways with Evan to the sound of Ravi and Lucy wailing “Don’t You Want Me” by Human League into their microphones, and he feels something deep inside his heart finally heal.

–

[quinnysnursery]

regarding jake, carrington, johnnie and tara. [sorry, this is gonna be a long one]

for those unaware of the current situation regarding carrington, jake & idkraeven, i'm going to summarize it to the best of my understanding however i suggest that all of you go to @/idkraeven's account on tiktok to hear their full story !

basically, raeven was invited to johnnie's halloween party and they believe that at that party they were r00fied- and then taken from the party, and then sexually taken advantage of.

raeven is not claiming that carrington, jake, johnnie did these actions- but what they are stating is that since that night none of these people made any attempts to contact their, or help their gain access to the security footage. and when they sent their manager to go retrieve their phone from jake's house, jake acted incredibly rude and insinuated that their manager's son wanted a photo with him.

i've also heard that they placed a restraining order against raeven- which they won. and that people from their group have told raeven to not talk about that night anymore.

grace has claimed that this is their and johnnie's first time hearing about this- which i'm unsure if i fully believe, but raeven seems to have accepted this, so i will as well.

+ it should be noted tara's name has not been brought into this conversation as far as i am aware.

there is no excuse for this behavior. i understand that everyone is human and reacts differently, but to consistently be so unhelpful to a friend who had one of the most traumatic things ever happen at YOUR house at YOUR party is absolutely disgusting.

raeven has said they only want an explanation and an apology from carrington and jake and does not want them to be cancelled as they are against cancel culture, which i feel atones to raeven's forgiving character.

regardless of this, i refuse to write for people who can brush past these actions.

raeven also mentioned in their video that they've heard from multiple different people in LA to not go to jake's house parties because "those kinds of things happen"- which was honestly nauseating to hear.

that behavior should not be normalized. while jake himself hasn't personally assaulted someone, if people around you know these actions happen at your parties, you have to as well. meaning you should seriously check the kind of people you invite.

you are the company that you keep. which is why i also plan to stop writing for tara, grace, chase and johnnie.

as for the nursery,

what does this mean for my current works up? i've made the decision to keep the works posted- but to take down my masterlists at the end of the week. my jjtc taglist will also be shut down.

i know a lot of you have grown attached to my ao3 fic titled 'little moth', it's gained quite the cult following- but again, i refuse to write for people who can be so neglectful to their friends in times of serious need. especially when these actions happened at their own home.

little moth (jjtc version) will be discontinued. however, i am open to reusing the storyline again with different people- but as for now, chapter 14 will be the last chapter ever published. i'm sorry.

[forlorn-plushie]

Styles of Prep - Games that Care

Yet another of the lies that Wizards of the Coast has sold TTRPG players, which they've bought into wholeheartedly, is that there are different styles of preparation, and all are valid for every game (because both are valid for D&D, and D&D is right for every game, of course.)

I'm gonna go over a couple games I've run, and explain that actually they all care about the type and level of preparation the GM does.

Indie games are often honest and open about what they want. To take a high-prep example, I recently ran Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy. It is not subtle! In the narrator section, right after the introduction, it says "We cannot advise you strongly enough to use prewritten adventure modules". It's not just there - throughout the rules, there's an emphasis that the situation, the state of the world at the outset and thus at every time that follows, is known and rigid. Eureka is a mystery game - the who, what, how, why, and more are all set in stone. The narrator is forbidden to change the scenario on the fly.

Eureka is very forceful of this because the authors, writing a game for mystery investigations, are well aware that it's damn near impossible to make a coherent mystery up on the fly. I'm sure they've tried. I've tried. It's impossible. Something will contradict, and you won't notice until well after the players have reasoned from that contradictory information. It can be done, but not well, and the mental load on the GM is going to kill them.

It's not a genre thing - Eureka is a game about the act of solving mysteries, but so in Brindlewood Bay. I don't have experience with Brindlewood Bay myself, but I do know that the GM doensn't have a real mystery ahead of time - there's a move which is rolled to determine whether a theory is correct. Both are mystery games, but they approach them differently - and each makes a vastly different demand of the GM's preparations.

On the opposite end of the spectrum from Eureka, more in line with Brindlewood Bay in fact, is just about every Powered by the Apocalypse game. Apocalypse World is very clear about what to prepare, and it's more or less the opposite of Eureka: "Daydream some apocalyptic imagery, but DO NOT commit yourself to any storyline or particular characters."

The rules actually tell you to start on what would typically be 'prep' during the first session: "Work on your threat map and essential threats". It's more like note-taking, at that point, just placing the names of stuff that gets mentioned in the session. After that first session, and between each other, you do some real out-of-session work, solidifying the notes you made into Threats.

I won't go into it at length, but Dungeon World is much the same - though there's no 'map' for threats, as characters are expected to be far more mobile, the system of solidifying problems that were mentioned in-game into problems with some mechanically attached descriptors is much the same.

Now, on to the elephant-sized dragon in the room - Dungeons and Dragons. The game itself is, truthfully, quite honest about this. It's the marketing team and the community, having fallen for their propaganda, who pretend low-prep is a valid way to play Dungeons and Dragons.

The 2014 DMG, correctly, focuses on prepared play. It asks DMs to consider "Do you like to plan thoroughly in advance, or do you prefer improvising on the spot?", but everything in that book is either rules text or preparation guides. Mostly the latter.

D&D, as it has existed since 3rd edition, (this is what I have experience with - I can't speak to earlier editions, except to note that there are alot of modules in their time and in the OSR tradition) is a game that thrives on prep. Even if that prep is procedural - tables of encounters and wandering monsters for an area, for example - it's impossible to run the game from nothing, without a lot of background, and have it work.

Imagine not knowing D&D, at all - you pick it up, read the non-list rules (so skipping most of the classes, races, spells, feats, backgrounds, weapons, etc) in the PHB and DMG, and try to run a game entirely improv from the rules and vibes. You'd quickly end up scouring the monster manual for appropriate encounters - and the game, by the rules, demands appropriate encounters! There's a budget system! It's a game about killing monsters and does a lot of math to try and make sure it's challenging without killing player characters.

D&D, at least in the books, is pretty honest about what it wants from preparation. It wants a lot! The playerbase pretends otherwise, but they're wrong. I've yet to find another game that tries to lie like this. Eureka wants you to use modules. Apocalypse World wants you to wing it. I have yet to find any game that actually doesn't care.

[pain-is-too-tired]

As someone who does think Octavian is over hated i think this missing a few points

1. The monsters on Octavian side weren't actually on his side. They literally turned on the Roman's as soon as they could. Everyone else knew immediately the monsters weren't there out of loyalty or allyship. So to a bunch of teens who have an army at their border, having said army have soldiers that you know aren't entirely loyal to the leader gonna make you call it out. Especially with how The Cyclops, nature spirits and others are allies and kin to chb and have been for awhile now. Octavian was grabbing anyone he could without considering who they were and if they actually care about their comrades. He reinstated a guy who he knows has killed his own in cold blood.

2. In relationship to that. Camp Jupiter might seem put together, but it sucks. I'm sorry you're never gonna see me praising a camp that turns it's children to obedient soldiers who fight eachother for higher positions and fill rampant with corruption. Again. A guy killed likely encouraged by this rising up mind set. Not saying writing wise it wouldn't ever been like this(it very much parallel to actual ancient Rome where assassinations were a fav passtime/hj) but I don't think it should be seen as good. Jason himself mentioned having cause stir for wanting to change things up. They are so strict on old ways and traditions, that old families and strong heritage gets you a head start in the way up. Why chb isn't a military based camp. Yes they train to fight, but primarily because they need to for survival, they aren't having heavy military training. You aren't forcefully stripped from your family(this is no hint that cj kids go to their mortal family much iirc) and there's no fight for power. The cabins are family more then they are barracks of some kind. They are similar to how Greece has city states. And it helps them organize based off strengths and traits. Your Head Counselor is typically someone you trust and look up to. They're mentors like an actual camp for teenagers would be. That's one the reasons Luke's betrayal hurt, he wasn't just their superior. He was their brother. Their mentor.

Also. Chb has Chiron who guides them and seen as a leader(even if he has problems sometimes but that's another thing-) and usually assist in planning and decisions.

CJ,despite having a WHOLE CITY FULL OF ADULTS RIGHT BESIDE THEM. Is still led by mostly children who, again, are drill to be obedient soldiers who can face horrid punishments if not in line. When Hazel vouched for Percy in SoN, both their lives were on the live if something happened. And again, CJ has full grown adults just living it up and sending their kids to this camp knowing full well what they'll go through. (No wander CJ has whole lot more exciles and crash outs- I'd snap too.)

3. Most Roman's hated the greeks before they even met them/knew that still around, the attack on new rome just gave them a reason to hate them more. Chb didn't even really think of the Roman's outside full mentions here and there of how they changed up the gods and myths. When we hear most complaints about Octavian(which, it's primarily about Octavian. Who, again gets too much hate in fandom, but he was blackmailing people and hating a whole group of people before they even actually gave him a reason to. They were saying graecus like it was a slur sometimes 😭) it's cause he's literally at their border with freaking catapults. And this is taking place not even a year after BoM the last thing they want is another battle with other demigods. Octavian is actively disobeying Reyna's orders, making things harder for the war against gaea, and not even his soldiers agree with him. He's demanding full loyalty out of nothing but rank and greeks don't vibe like that.

They aren't calling romans as a whole all these names. It's specifically Octavian. Who's the reason for extra stress on the camp why Gaea's close to awakening. They're calling him out for making dumb decisions and honestly acting like the trust fund kid he very likely is.

I hate how everyone at Camp Half-Blood gangs up on Octavian. Will Solace, Clarisse LaRue, Jake Mason, etc. They call him a barbarian. They call him a dirt wipe. And they're supposed to be the good guys!? No! If anything, they're just as cruel as him. Demonizing your enemies is usually what leads to a perpetual cycle of violence. No wonder Camp Jupiter and Octavian hate Camp Half-Blood, if they say stuff like this about them.

Also, Camp Jupiter has randomly assigned barracks (not segregation by godly parent like at Camp Half-Blood), and Camp Jupiter has their own fully functioning city-state in the form of New Rome! Now remind me: which Camp is so barbaric, hmm? Kind of looks like it's yours, you Greek demigods. So don't go throwing stones when you live in glass houses! You're extreme hypocrites!

And speaking of hypocrisy, you greeks have cyclopses fighting for you! And nature spirits! Octavian has two headed men and dog headed men with poleaxes; and suddenly he's the barbaric one!? You're both using outside help, help which is supernatural and (dare i say it) monstrous! You can't condemn one without condemning the other! And since I like Tyson and the cyclopses, we should really be condemning neither. But I just hate the hypocrisy of Camp Half-Blood!

[celtrist]

Why does Vassago already have merch, we haven't even met him yet

[astrolotte]

Genuinely intrigued by the potential of Peri and Irep's dynamic but only in a platonic way so I end up not vibing with the fandom's portrayal of it 😔😔😔

(No but listen LISTEN they were kinda-almost-friends when we last saw them in FOP, yeah? Now they're enemies, with both actively fighting each other, and Irep going so far as to try and kill Peri's parents. What happened? When? What influenced it? Did they ever become friends, or did it nosedive the moment the cameras turned off? What about Sammy? How do Irep's parents factor into this? Could it ever be fixed? There's just so much we haven't seen, and romance just feels like too easy a solution to me. Let their friendship be easy to break, fragile. Let them have to work to keep the connection. Fairies and Anti-Fairies are literally made to be opposites, so what happens when two genuinely and truly become friends?)

((and yeah I guess a lot of this could factor into a romantic angle but ALAS the fandom seems to be leaning heavily into the funny toxic yaoi angle 😔 I don't mind it! By all means, please have your very harmless fun! But it ain't my jam :P Perhaps I'll have to write a oneshot myself...))

(((see tags for more rambles i guess. whoops a bitch spoke too much in there as he always does)))

[bigcats-birds-and-books]

Books of 2025: ADRIFT IN CURRENTS CLEAN AND CLEAR by Seanan McGuire.

Ah, yes, my favorite January tradition: heartbreak in tiny series installment form :)

This one is about a turtle-obsessed disabled Russian girl who gets adopted by an American family and fitted for a prosthetic she doesn't ask for, want, or need, and then she splashes through her Door.

I love Russian language and culture things (shout out to accidentally double minoring in college), so I was excited for a Russian protag and a Russian-coded Door world! Excellent enrichment in my enclosure. Neat cultural expansion on the Wayward Children universe (multiverse? cosmos?? insert appropriately scaled setting word here).

I also liked the aquatic nature of Belyyreka--terrifying giant frogs and delightful giant turtles and delightful talking foxes on the riverbanks were all lovely, and the worldbuilding about different weights of water was neat! Very mind-bendy kind of setting, I dig it.

This installment felt very slim (146 pages in my copy), and Our World Heavy--the first 46 pages were in Colorado, and the last 100 were in Belyyreka, but it felt like we did More Frequent and Larger Time Skips in Belyyreka compared to Earth? Kind of speedrun mode, sans Quests, really (this one was a lot more oriented toward Finding/Building Your Family, which was signposted pretty clearly upon our arrival in Belyyreka). Mostly a quieter installment up until the, y'know, Typical Impending Tragedy of Return at the end. (Did I almost put it down at 1AM last night with 30 pages left so everyone could Be Happy? perHAPS,)

Overall: I had a good time! But, ow, my heart (once again and forever).

[morelikesin]

Sam's blueberry pie 🫐🥧 Which he's, as per the running joke on this blog, just as normal as U◠⁠꓃⁠ ⁠◕⁠ ⁠U

[all-lars-bars]

In my delusion world, the MC in DDLC is aroace and transfem

[destinywillowleaf]

how to go from a one-shot/conversation spawned from thinking too much about an unseen father to more than a dozen fic ideas and an overarching narrative about family heritage (and the generational trauma that comes with it), the importance of communication, and how all lives touch other lives to create something anew and alive in one easy step

[desalvar]

citing all my sources of inspiration for Nikodemus would mean unironically putting Misfits 2009-2013 at the top of the list

[daddyplasmius]

okay, so, I've collected a bunch of DP fandom stuff that I remember off the top of my head, specifically in chronological order & colour coded here in this post (fics/comics, tumblr posts, important imo) for no reason other than I saw a post asking for Phandom history & it triggered my biggest, most long-running hyperfixation & now I'm curious if anyone else remembers stuff.

this link is going to be the permanent version I will be updating, but I'm posting what I currently have (gonna go through my old laptop later for more) just to let people know. you can also find the link on my blog, but only on desktop. It isn't colour coded there, sorry.

please share more if you got anything else cuz I'm 100% sure I'm missing a lot of stuff & am too interested now. the biggest reason a lot of stuff isn't here is that I simply can't find it. second biggest reason is i forgor. things not included here aren't "unimportant," this is just the first stuff that comes to mind.

putting it under a cut 'cause it got kinda long

Mars by JadeRabbyt (2005)

Checkmate by pearl84 (2006)

Conversations of a Ghost Gabber by Cordria (2006)

The Foley Maneuver by bluemoonalto (2007)

One Thousand Years by Nylah (2008)

Lab Rat by AnneriaWings (2009)

Lost by Cordria (2010?) [1] [2] [3] [4] [5]

Phantom of Truth by Haiju (2011)

Ghost Deaths (2012)

Through Coals and Rain by Kakawot (2012)

Shadow of a Doubt by Haiju (2013)

Pink Pants (2013?)

Wes (2014) [original] [1] [2] [3] [4]

this "I'm Inevitable" gif (2014)

Space AU (2014)

Treading Water by The Full Catastrophe (2014)

Danny, you dead IDIOT!! comic (2014)

wash away the darkest days by anthrop (2014)

Reverse Trio (2014)

Inverse Trio (2014-2016) ALT

Halfas are "feral children" (2015)

Burn the Streets, Burn the Cars by anthrop (2015)

It's Not Gay if He's Dead by phantomrose96 (2015)

You Smell Like Death by starfleetrambo (2015)

Ghost Bird AU by @rest-in-peachs (2016?)

Things I Can(not) Do In Amity Park by RedHeadsRock1010 (2016)

KEtTLE by Cordria (2016)

Deeper, Darker by Silvermoonphantom (2016)

Danny Phantom Punches Butch Hartman In The Face by MistressVintage (2017)

Dannypocalypse (2017)

Ghost Train (2017?)

Ghost Physics by jayrockin (2017)

Ghost Infographics (2018)

The Taxonomy of Ghost Cores: An Observational Study (2018) Communicating with Ghosts Professionally: A Study (2018)

Species in Danny Phantom (2018?)

Diddles Piddles by diddly-darn-ghost (2018)

Broken Ectoplasm by ghostanimal (2019)

Ghost of Heroes by Enigmaris & ScarletNightFury (2019-2020)

do not stand at my grave and cry (i am not there, i did not die) by blueh (2020)

Undercover Phantom by artistfingers (2021)

Corruption is a Two Way Street by datawyrms (2021)

Things That Bleed by artistfingers, kkachis, & Perfectly_Inconspicuous (2022)

10,000 works on AO3 (2022)

Ghost Speak:

Danny's handwriting (2015?)

Cordria (2015)

Fiver-Rivers [1] [2] [3] (2019)

Rubber Chicken Sounds (2019)

[dimiclaudeblaigan]

Honestly though, this (what Ashe is pointing out) is exactly why I don't think GW could possibly end well. There's no "talking it over" after all the bloodshed (especially bloodshed started by them, and especially bloodshed started by them that didn't have to happen).

The way the narration leaves it "open" too at the end of GW just comes across as "it failed". It feels like... a kind of pointless story?

And I know some people might think that since Dimitri personally isn't as deeply affected by losing Matthias and so might be willing, that's still no good if his people and closest allies aren't. Rodrigue and Sylvain wouldn't be so forgiving, and I do think Dimitri would follow suit because that's his father (Rodrigue)'s closest friend and one of his own closest friends' father.

Add that to the fact that they have Sreng to deal with still (and I imagine sooner or Sylvain would figure out that Leicester had a hand in provoking Sreng to attack Faerghus) on top of losing Matthias and I imagine all the stress and aggravation wouldn't bode well for Leicester as far as Claude's thinking of things working out goes.

I just really can't see where GW goes afterward that would be "good" or works in Claude's favor at all. Maybe that was the intention and it was meant to be a route with a completely tragic ending, but apparently there are players who think it would end well and whatnot and I just can't see that happening (both from Faerghus' end and from Adrestia's end, the latter of which Claude discussed within GW itself).

If their intention was for a totally tragic ending, like yeah, I can see that... but as always the writing muddies the waters to make it sound good while something bad is happening. It keeps trying to have a positive spin on bad things as if they're just afraid to commit to a fully bad ending.

[elizmanderson]

you think you're joking but old adult is my genre, let's fucking go lmao, ready for the age of Old Adult Literature to begin

Due to the exciting successes of 'weird horror' and 'hopepunk', we're happy to announce a new slate of literary genres for release in Q3 2023. From now on you can expect to start seeing marketing TikToks and insufferable thinkpieces responding to marketing TikToks about:

Nicepunk

Eastern Orthodox Fantasy

Old Adult

Cosmic Horror But Without The Racist Parts

Yiffbong

Ahistorical Romance

Political Snoozer

Erotic Mystery

How Does This Have A Netflix Show It Just Came Out?

Mormon Realism

Dog Isekai

Shampoo Ad Novelization

Rock-hard SciFi

Smileglad

Nasty Fiction

Cosmic Horror But It's Only The Racist Parts

'The Scottish Genre'

Penis Books

[celiababy]

Ain't Right

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: You have a major (borderline obsessive) crush on Joel, and you're on a mission to fuck him.

Warnings: 18+ SMUT MDNI, age gap (56/20), swearing, fingering (fem!receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, size kink, cum eating, name calling, kinda mean Joel, alcohol, vomiting, an extremely brief mention of suicide

Disclaimer: I lowkey don't know the logistics of the show so if some things are wrong please look over it I'm just trying to write smut about Joel Miller godbless.

Ain't Right part 2

Ever since that tortured old man showed up in Jackson, your life hasn't been the same.

Tommy's older brother, and your absolute undoing.

When Joel Miller rode into town, it was like everything suddenly made sense. The skies got clearer, the air smelled better, and the birds even chirped their love songs louder.

Everything about him drew you in; his cold demeanor, stoic face, tired eyes—but gentle around those he cared about, which was only a few select people.

And you certainly were not one of those select people.

Joel didn't know what to think about you.

To him, you were odd. Yes, you were undoubtedly the most beautiful girl in Jackson, but he felt distance between the two of you was essential.

He felt this way because he knew.

Joel wasn't oblivious to your stares; he might've been an old man, but he remembered the laws of attraction fairly well.

He didn't like the thought of you liking him.

You were young, attractive, and had plenty of age-appropriate prospects just begging for your attention. Every boy in Jackson wanted a piece of you—but you only had eyes for Joel.

He was getting old and tired, ain't no reason why you should be so fond over him.

He also didn't like that you made your attraction so obvious. It made people whisper, and Joel about had enough teasing from Tommy.

"You gonna let that young thing jump your bones or what, Joel?" Is an example of the few things his brother would chirp at him whenever you were around and had eyes on him like he was a target.

So, all things considered, it's no surprise when Joel is reluctant to make a supply run with you.

You had begged Tommy to let you go out and finally start pulling your weight, carefully adding that Joel would be a great teacher for a first timer like yourself.

You stand near the truck, squeezing the straps of your backpack while watching Joel and Tommy whisper to themselves a couple feet away.

"You can't find anyone else?" Joel growls lowly, narrowing his eyes at his insufferable brother who he’d really like to strangle right now.

"Are you seriously scared of a twenty year old girl, Joel?" Tommy asked exasperatedly, throwing his arm out in disbelief. "It'll take two hours tops, what the hell are you so scared of?" Joel is exhaling through his nose, dragging a hand down his jaw in complete disgruntlement.

"You know what the hell I'm scared of Tommy—goddammit," He gets in his brother’s face before realizing you’re still watching them.

He takes a moment to back up and calm down, breathing out through his nose.

"I do not need this town thinkin' I am encouraging this girls...feelin's." He murmurs lowly.

Tommy rolls his eyes before shoving Joel's backpack into his chest.

"Just don't fuck her, Joel. How hard could it be?"

Joel watches as Tommy turns his back and walks away, leaving just you and him.

Joel had spent a lot of time making sure he was never in a situation alone with you—now he was about to be your unsupervised mentor.

He feels a groan try and crawl its way out his throat, but he pushes it down.

He starts walking to the truck, not even looking at you as he passes and yanks the driver side door open with more force than necessary.

"Let's make this quick." He grunts out, climbing inside.

You do the same, only with a little bit more enthusiasm. ***

The trip is a complete bust.

Joel barely paid you any attention, no matter how many flirty gestures you made at him.

You'd say something remotely suggestive and he'd either glare at you, or just flat out ignore you.

But you were relentless. Giving up on him wasn't in the cards for you, no matter how many judgmental looks he casted your way.

You guys had been driving back to town for around five minutes; Joel has kept his eyes firmly on the road in fear of you sparking a conversation with him.

But you do anyways.

You turn your body to face him in the bench seat, your eyes cascading down his breath-taking side profile.

You zoned in on the gray patches of his beard, and how his face had the remnants of a long, unforgiving life weaved into his wrinkles and scars.

You're momentarily rendered speechless by his looks before he side-eyes you.

"What?" He huffs out, not being able to handle your intense stare any longer.

"Why not?"

A beat.

"What?" He asks again, his brows furrowing together, an annoyed and confused expression painting his features.

"Why won't you fuck me?"

Joel physically winces at your language, scoffing in what looks to be disgust as he starts shaking his head.

"We're not starting this." He snaps firmly, a tone in his voice that you haven't heard before.

Completely disregarding his words, you start.

"Is it because I'm not pretty enough?" Joel groans out, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. "Is it because there's someone else?" He's close to snapping. "Is it because you can't get it up? I heard thats a problem with guys your age-"

Joel slams on the brakes, sending you lurching forward. He shoves the truck into park before turning to face you, a scary look on his face.

"I am not going to fuck you--Christ almighty," Joel raises his voice at you.

You're staring at him, wide eyes and lips parted in surprise. You weren't really expecting this.

"you're bustin' my fuckin' balls, Look kid," He starts up again, this time with a softer tone. "M'about 40 years too old for you-"

You cut him off with a murmur. "36, I did the math."

"Same damn thing," he snaps, shaking his head. "Point is—you don't needa be wastin' your time with me; there are plenty boys your age that will satisfy your...you."

You scoff in his face but try to disguise it by clearing your throat.

"I'm not asking you to marry me, Joel," You start, a sad smile spreading across your lips. "S'just sex." You say with a shrug, blush coating your cheeks because now your mind is imagining sex with him.

He stays silent and looks away from you, closing his eyes like he couldn’t believe this was happening.

That urges you to say more.

"I won't tell anyone," You're practically whispering, looking down at your fidgeting hands in your lap. "I'd let you do anything you wanted to me."

Joel's heart cinches in his chest at your words, mostly because he can tell you're being so genuine.

Why the hell did you like him so much? He just couldn’t understand it.

But he can't entertain this any longer because he knows if he did, he'd give into you.

"I don't wanna hear another goddamn word outta your mouth." Joel says in a strikingly even and calm tone, putting the truck into drive and continuing back.

He's eerily silent, and so is the rest of the trip because you're too dejected to speak.

Eventually, you both arrive home and you're fast to get out of the truck.

You slam the door and keep your head down as you walk away, snow crunching beneath your boots.

Joel takes his time, watching you storm off with tired eyes.

He feels bad for being so rough on you, but he figured it was the only way to get you to stop liking him.

Tommy walks up, a concerned look on his face as he looks back between you and Joel.

"Guessin' you didn't fuck her."

***

Nobody had seen you in days.

The pain of rejection had you in a mental place that you had never experienced before.

No one has ever denied you—ever.

The situation was 100x worse considering you actually liked Joel, and he wasn't just another toy to play with.

Joel figured his life would get easier with you not around, and it kinda did in some aspects.

But he couldn't stop the gnawing feeling of guilt slowly eating at him like a parasite.

He'd been cruel to you in the way he went about things, and he felt bad.

Had he really broken your heart? He didn't know you liked him that much.

He sits in his living room, contemplating how to go about this entirely fucked up situation.

He debates making amends with you, apologizing and rejecting you again but in a gentler way.

He deliberates on his plan of action while nursing a glass of whiskey before he's interrupted by three bangs on his front door, followed by a screeching: "JOEL"

He mutters a 'what the fuck' under his breath, walking to the door and picking his 9mil up on the way.

His eyes widen when he sees you-standing there in all your glory.

It's the middle of winter and snowing like hell, yet you're wearing shorts and a tank top with a beer bottle in your hand.

"Jesus, kid-what the fuck," Joel ushers you inside quickly, taking his big jacket off the coatrack and draping it over you.

He also tosses his gun to the side, obviously you were no threat.

"You tryin' to get frostbit? Christ," he's swearing and muttering profanities as he guides you over to the couch, now basically swaddling you in blankets.

You've never been inside his house before, only ever walked passed it a few times. It smells like him.

You, however, smell like alcohol and bad decisions.

Joel picked up on how drunk you were the minute you stumbled through the door. He takes the bottle from your hand and sets it aside somewhere, glaring at you like how a mad parent would.

"The hell are you doin' out in the snow like that? Fuckin' death wish or somethin'?"

His words are kinda fuzzy in your ears, you're so drunk that you barely even register them.

An unprompted giggle spills from your lips as you shake your head at him.

"It's not snowing silly," You chide, making him out to be an idiot when, in actuality, it's a damn blizzard outside.

He knows from that statement alone that you are way off your rocker tonight.

"How much have ya had to drink, kid?" Joel asks, raking a hand through his graying hair.

"Don't call me kid," You snap, a quick flash of anger in your expression. "M'not a kid."

Joel rolls his eyes so hard that he probably caused a tsunami on the other side of the world.

“Yeah yeah, whatever. What are you doin’ here?” He asks exasperatedly, dragging a hand down his jaw while looking at your trembling figure.

There’s a long pause before you answer. You just got distracted by his big brown eyes.

“Jus’ wanted to say hi.” You murmur, unable to tear your gaze away from his face.

“Say hi?” He reiterates, looking at you like you’ve actually lost your mind.

You probably have.

After a moment, Joel can’t help but chuckle in disbelief, letting his body lean back against the couch.

The absurdity of it all turned humorous to him.

Here you are, sitting in his living room, practically nude with only his coat and blankets protecting your modesty, having just trekked through the snow all for what? To say hey?

You’re still sitting there, motionless and trying to remember how to breathe because his laughing face has your heart lighting off fireworks.

“Fuckin’ hell—hi.” Is all he says, turning his head to the side to look at you as he crosses his arms over his chest.

You smile like a dope at him, so extremely happy to be there in his company.

But the alcohol in your system is fighting you, and you’re finding it hard to keep your eyes open.

“S’it cool if I say the nigh?” You slur, falling vertically on the couch, your head crashing onto Joel’s thigh.

You nuzzle your cheek against the fabric of his jeans and Joel is just about to gently push you off, but he stops himself.

You look so comfortable and so at peace that Joel can’t do anything except stare at you.

Your cheek is slightly smushed, your lips are parted, your eyes are shut and don’t plan on opening—it’s insane to him how at home you looked.

Like you belonged here, head rested on his lap.

Fuck.

He was fucked this time.

He doesn’t move you. Instead, he fixes the blankets on top of you so you’re fully covered, and sits there with you the entire night.

He’s really gone soft.

***

When morning comes, you’re first to wake up, accompanied by a splitting headache.

You don’t even notice how Joel’s hand had fallen onto your waist some time during the night because you’re too busy making a b-line for the bathroom.

You chuck your guts up into the toliet, clutching the porcelain and groaning out in pain.

Joel wakes up to the sound of your hurling, momentarily disoriented before he remembers last nights events.

He’s quick to come to your aid in the bathroom, wasting no time gathering your hair in his fist to get it out of your face.

"S'right, get it all out," He murmurs out encouragingly, seemingly unfazed by the disheveled sight of you.

You’re too sick to be embarrassed, that’ll come later surely.

He sits on the wall of the tub as he continues holding your hair back, yawning every now and then like this was just a regular Tuesday morning.

Eventually, by the mercy of God, you get it all out of your system and slump up against the wall.

���M’sorry,” You immediately apologize, figuring that is the only right move in this situation.

“Don’t be. Been through plenty'a that in my day.”

His words are uncharacteristically reassuring and you find yourself taken back by them.

You soon realize this is probably just the hazy morning Joel, the Joel where he isn't worried about anything except coffee and breakfast—like everything wrong in his life is put on the back burner for this short minute in time.

“I’ll get you some water and Advil, sit tight.” He grunts before standing up on his feet, knees popping as he walks out.

You watch as he leaves, wiping the corners of your mouth with the back of your hand.

Aside from the vomit part, you could get used to this.

You've never seen him so...domestic. His hair was all messy, his voice was raspy, he had that morning haze over his features that you felt so honored to witness.

You suddenly felt compelled to look at your own appearance, hopping to your feet and looking in the dirty mirror.

You resist the urge to audibly gasp at your reflection, opting for a disgusted look instead.

Your hair is a rats nest, your clothes are a mess, and your mascara has rubbed off in black smudge all over the skin around your eyes.

In a desperate attempt to look at least semi-presentable, you wash your face with water and comb through your hair with your fingers.

The idea that Joel had seen you looking like that was making your stomach churn again.

Before you can grovel about it any longer, he rounds the corner with a glass of water and little brown pills in his hand.

“Here,” He says softly, handing you the water and tilting the pills into your open palm. “Take these ‘n drink all that water and ya should get to feelin’ better.”

You do as he says, swallowing the Advil in one go before taking a big sip to wash it down.

His eyes drift down to your shoulder, where your tank top strap has fallen. No doubt from all that vigorous throwing up you were doing moments ago.

Without thinking, his fingers graze your forearm before bringing the strap back up to its correct position, clearing his throat in the process.

A beat of silence falls over the both of you.

You’re gobsmacked by the complete nonchalance of his touch, staring at him with your mouth slightly open in shock.

“What?” He asks defensively, his tone pointed.

You look between him and your shoulder strap, then slowly move to set your water down.

“Are you sure we can’t fuck?”

“Goddammit—” Joels cursing before you can even finish saying the last word in your sentence.

He turns away from you, probably the fastest you’ve seen anyone turn in their life, and walks towards his room with an accelerating pace.

He shakes his head in disbelief all the way down the hall, pivoting on his heel to duck into his bedroom.

You follow him, not really fazed by how he completely refused to answer your question, though you didn’t think he would anyway.

Before you can step foot into the threshold of his room, Joel walks out, causing you to back up.

He shoves a stack of clothes in your direction, looking down at you with a frustrated face. “Put these clothes on and go home.”

You look down, realizing he was letting you borrow a sweater and jeans of his so you didn’t die walking back to your house from the cold.

Your heart warms at this thoughtfulness.

Without wasting any time, you take the clothes from his hands, smiling happily. “Can I keep them?”

“Why the hell would you wanna keep my clothes?” He’s got that confused/angry look on his face as he asks, and you have to suppress a giggle at the sight of it.

You bring the pieces of fabric up to your nose and inhale, humming as you breathe out again. “They smell like you.”

“Christ,” Joel beings his hands up to rub at his eyes. “Fine, do whatever. Just hurry up and change, jesus,"

Ever the tease, you set down his clothes and begin to lift your tank top like you planned to change right in front of him.

Joel's hands shoot out to stop you, a 'don't try me,' look on his face.

"Put them on over your clothes," Joel says sternly, watching the way you sigh because you weren't fast enough in lifting your tank top off.

However, you sieze the opportunity in front of you.

Joel's hands are holding yours down, so you work to intertwine your fingers, invading his space by stepping forward.

"Or, you could take my clothes off," You purr, your chest now flush with his torso.

Joel exhales through his nose, his jaw clenching as he tried deciding how he was going to get out of this situation.

But then he paused.

Looking down at you now, so eager and wide eyed, made him wonder.

If he fucked you, and made you realize it wasn't what you were probably imagining in your head, maybe then you'd finally leave him alone.

He would just...pretend to be awful at sex.

(Even though it had been so long and he wasn't sure if he'd actually need to 'pretend' anymore.)

There's a long silence that drags out between the both of you.

Your stomach is doing flips because it's looking like he's finally going to agree.

His resolve cracks and Joel can't do anything but sigh in defeat.

Slowly, Joel pulls you back into his room, closing the door behind you both.

Time is moving in slow motion.

You can't believe it's finally happening.

He guides you back until the back of your knees hit his bed, prompting you to sit down on it.

"I'm only going to do this once," Joel's voice is uncharacteristically low and calm, and it has your core tightening.

You nod in acknowledgement, waiting to see what he's going to do next.

With care, he pushes your shoulder down so you're laying on your back. "Are you sure you want this?" He asks, brown eyes searching yours.

"Have I not made it obvious?" You quip, a giggle following shortly after.

Joel only shakes his head before his fingers latch around the fabric of your shorts, pulling them down and off your legs.

"S'pose you have." He murmurs, scratching the back of his neck.

You're vibrating with excitement and you repeat what you tried earlier, only this time succeeding with taking your top off.

Of course, you're not wearing a bra.

Joel realizes in that moment that he bit off way more than he could chew.

He hasn't seen breast that weren't on a soggy piece of paper in at least a few years, and yours--well, his cock stood no chance.

You hear him swallow, watching as he can't seem to stop staring at your chest.

Realizing that he might need a little encouragement to start speeding things along, you smile up at him and whisper, "touch me Joel".

Yeah, screw this. His plan of pretending to be bad was now entirely forgotten—he was going to do what he wanted, so help him god.

He huffs out a curse before sliding a hand up your torso, stopping once he's fully cupped one of your breasts in one hand. He kneads it like dough while using his other hand to disappear under your panties.

A choked moan erupts from your lips once you feel his fingers brush along your clit, rubbing around and spreading your slick around all too slowly.

"haven't even done anythin' yet and you're already fuckin' soaked..." He murmurs really to just himself, his eyes casting down to watch as he rips your underwear off impatiently.

"M'always like this whenever you're around," you mewl to spur him on, spreading your legs wider.

"Oh you are, huh?" Joel repeats back, the tiniest bit of cruelty in his tone that makes you shiver.

You nod, bucking your hips into his hand desperately.

"don't get why you like an old man like me, s'gross." His tone is flat but it's clear he's teasing by the way he curls his fingers inside of you. He's not really expecting a response, but you feel compelled.

You lurch forward, gasping at the feeling. "I really like you," You rush out breathlessly. "I'd do anything you wanted me to." You say earnestly as you stare into his eyes, loving what you're seeing.

Joel remembers when you told him that the first time, his heart cinching the same way it did then.

Joel is at war with himself. One side of him is screaming that this whole situation is fucked up and he is better off without you.

Another part of him thinks that this is the most he’s ever felt in a long time. And he doesn't want to lose it.

You can see the gears turning in his head. His fingers have slipped from you and you wince at the loss.

Slowly, you sit up. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, your nipples pressing into his shirt.

He's confused and momentarily panicked when your faces get so close together, his hands seeking purchase on your hips.

In an unexpected move, you rake your hands through the side of his hair, looking lovingly at his face.

"I just wanna be someone for you," You murmur, your face breaking a little as Joel's resolve also cracks. "Doesn't matter what. I'm very versatile." You mumble the last part to try and lighten the mood.

Joel just stares at you—something swimming behind his eyes that you can't quite place.

Eventually, he crashes his forehead against yours, sighing out.

"You're makin' this fuckin' impossible." He rasps before kissing you with a passion you've never felt before.

You feel victorious.

He's finally given in to you.

Eagerly, you kiss back, wrapping your legs around his torso and grinding your bare cunt against the bulge in his jeans.

"Then stop trying so hard to get rid of me," You sigh out, chasing his lips even as you're trying to speak.

He groans and you catch it in your mouth, the pressure on his clothed cock making him dizzy.

“Fuck,” He’s quick to unbuckle his belt, sliding it out of the loops and tossing it somewhere on the floor. “Lay back.” He demands and you immediately follow suit.

He's never been that...assertive with you before. It makes you tingle all over.

He looks starved as he peers down at you, specifically your cunt.

He literally can’t tear his eyes off your sex—he only looks up to your gaze when you let out an impatient whine.

He rips down his pants, letting his cock spring free and slap against his stomach.

Now you can’t tear your eyes away from his sex.

You’ve only dreamt it so many times, but now that it’s finally in front of you—it all just feels surreal.

It’s better than you imagined, perfect.

“I don’t have a—”

You know what he’s about to say so you cut him off immediately. “S’okay, like it raw. Closer to you that way.” You murmur.

Joel looks physically pained that he’s not inside you right now. For some reason, you just know all the right things to say.

“Closer to me?” He huffs out, hooking his arms around your thighs and pulling you down to the edge of the bed where he stood.

Now your cunt is flush with the base of his member and the sensation drives you both insane. “You’re fuckin’ insane.”

Joel rasps, but the way he says it reveals just how far he’s fallen. He knows you’re crazy, and yet here he is, balancing you out.

He glides his member back and forth against your folds, gathering up your wetness with a clenched jaw and furrowed brows.

He looks so concentrated—meanwhile you’re writhing with pleasure and impatience. Your cunt is clenching around nothing, desperate for him.

“So fuckin’ pretty,” he murmurs to himself, eyes tracing all over you.

You freeze.

Joel had complimented you for the first time, and it was genuine.

He notices you stiffen and takes a moment to pause.

Your entire body erupts with goosebumps, your heart beating at exceptionally fast speeds.

He's worried for a second that something is horribly wrong.

“What?” He asks, confused at what’s got you so wound up.

Your face is flushed red as you bashfully giggle. “You called me pretty.”

Ah fuck.

Joel finds you so charming it hurts.

After he remembers how to breathe again, he rolls his eyes and clears his throat.

“I have my cock to your cunt, of course I find you pretty.”

You smile and shrug. “Still. Nice to hear.” You’re all smiles until his tip prods at your entrance, causing a gasp to leave your throat.

He continues to apply pressure with his tip and it’s driving you crazy.

“Fuck Joel—are you trying to kill me?” You whine, hips wiggling to get him in.

He scoffs and shakes his head. “Relax, m’almost there.”

Slowly, he begins pushing his way inside. His mushroom head breaches you entirely and it feels like you can hear the angels singing.

He continues forward, the stretch being mainly around the middle of his thick cock.

But you’re taking it like a champ.

Joel braces himself with hands on both sides of your torso as he bottoms out, a groan crawling its way out of his throat.

The sensation is absolutely delicious.

A little bit of pain from the stretch, but so much pleasure from the fullness.

“Joel, ohmygod you feel so good inside me.” You moan, throwing your head back.

Your hips start moving on their own, but he immediately stops you with two large hands.

“D-Don’t move—fuck.” Joel grumbles out, his face pinched together in what looked like pain.

You’re confused for a moment, thinking maybe that he might just be really into cockwarming.

But then it hits you.

“Were you gonna come?” The tone in your voice makes it seem like you’d be elated if that was the case—like the most flattering thing in the world.

Joel looks pissed that you caught on so quick.

In truth, the moment he put his tip in, he was holding back his orgasm.

Can you blame him? He’s only fucked his hand for the last couple years.

“S’been a while.” Is all he can say, his chest heaving up and down in concentration. You know he’s embarrassed, but you can’t help but smile like a dope at him.

“If you come, please do it inside, please,” you beg, reaching out for his arms that caged you in.

Joel's rational mind feels like it just touched down in looney town after hearing your begging.

He feels crazy because he liked the thought of the idea you proposed. You even see him hesitate. But then he scoffs and shakes his head.

Joel drops down closer to your face, slowly starting to rock his hips into you. "Tryin' to baby trap me, girl?" He grunts in your ear, making you moan out.

Your walls are clenching down on him, and it’s making it that much harder to hold back. “No-no, promise, just wanna be full of you." You manage to blubber out...unconvincingly.

You probably didn't really want a baby with Joel, but your lust-driven brain was working on fumes and you just wanted to do what felt good.

Joel's grunting in your ear was not helping things. His fingers were gripping your hip so hard, you figured it would probably bruise tomorrow

Good. You wanted whatever he would give you.

"Christ--m'not gonna last much longer," Joel groans, picking his head up a little to meet your gaze. He wanted to kick himself for not being able to last, but when he saw your face, all those feelings disappeared.

You looked so--perfect. Soaking up the moment in case it was the last, god you hoped it wasn't the last time. Now that you've finally had a tase of him, you weren't sure you could live without it.

Your legs tighten around his waist, keeping him firmly in your cunt. Joel notices this and also your pleading eyes, a growl leaving his throat.

"Please, please, please, please," you beg, never breaking eye contact with him as his thrusts pick up speed.

He ruins your long string with pleas with a needy kiss, shoving his tongue down your throat like a starving man.

You accept it happily, moaning out into the kiss while Joel manhandles your hips to take his cock.

The feeling is damn near euphoric for both you and him. It gets even better when Joel's hand comes down to rub at your clit again.

Your back arches off the bed as you gasp and moan out, wrapping your arms back around his shoulders. "F-Fuck!" You moan into his ear, probably drooling on his shoulder in the process. "thankyouthankyouthankyou-" you sputter out in choked sobs. He was really good at working on your clit, you couldn't do anything else but thank him for it.

Joel feels a surge of something when he hears you. He's never had a woman thank him in bed before.

It's enough to push him over the edge. And apparently you too.

"I'm gonna come Joel, please don't stop," There are pools of tears in your eyes that Joel is just now noticing. He's about to reply to you, but he finds himself speechless when he feels your cunt start constricting and fluttering around him like a vice.

"Fuck!" He groans out loudly, his hips starting to falter in their rhythm. But then he picks up speed again, and in no time he's like a madman jackhammering into you.

You're a mess of screams and cries and moans underneath him, happily taking everything he was giving you.

When Joel feels himself about to come, he notices how your legs are still tightly wrapped around him, keeping him inside, and he manages to scoff out.

"Gotta let me go baby," You've never heard that pet name from him before, and it makes you crumble. His hands move to grab at your thighs, kneading the flesh there.

You whine out but reluctantly release the grip your legs had on him. Joel doesn't waste time before hugging both your legs on his chest, keeping them firmly placed while your feet squirmed by his ear.

"Atta girl," he murmurs before picking up speed again, his cock head pressing into your cervix.

It's all too much for you. Joel looks so amazing pounding into you from above, his concentrated face, his sweat, the way his salt and pepper hair is all disheveled, you're losing your mind.

Your core is on fire and you can't stop yourself.

In a staggering turn of events, you come first.

Your walls come down like bricks on his dick, you cry out, throwing your head back in complete bliss and ecstasy.

Seeing and feeling this, Joel is quick to follow in your steps. He rips himself from that warm hole of yours and pumps himself dry onto your stomach.

You watch it all with wide eyes, you wouldn't have missed Joel's orgasm face for the world!

Of course, his eyes were squeezed shut, his mouth was open as he was breathing heavily, and his eyebrows turned down like he was mad.

God he was so beautiful.

His thick ropes of cum shoot all over your stomach and even your breasts as he jerks himself off to completion.

When he finishes, he takes a moment to catch his breath, finally opening his eyes to see you scoop up his cum from your breast with your finger and shove it in your mouth.

Your tongue swirls around his seed and you swallow eagerly, humming out in satisfaction at the taste of him.

Joel's watching in complete fascination, though his expression looks a little angry. When does it not?

"taste so good," you mumble with your finger still in your mouth, looking up at him with your big eyes.

He moves before he can think about it--ripping your hand away from your lips and caging you in a slow but deep kiss.

He soon falls down beside you and soon rolls over onto his back, his chest rising and falling from the excursion.

You curl into his side, watching his side profile so intently. You had just fucked Joel Miller.

And it was everything you had dreamed of. Extreme happiness doesn't even begin to describe your feelings right now.

There's a long stretch of silence that drapes over the both of you. Eventually, Joel breaks it with something extremely off topic.

"Last night...you didn't just come here to say 'hi', did you?"

You're momentarily speechless, not expecting that question from him at all. But you can't stop a giggle from coming through your lips.

"Actually, I came to confront you." Your voice is soft as you begin speaking, thinking back to last night's ordeal.

Joel doesn't expect this answer, his head turns to look at you while you speak. His arm comes down to drape over your shoulder.

"I was really upset cus you rejected me n'all. I just couldn't accept the whole, 'age gap' excuse. I wanted to know if you just really didn't like me or not." You're murmuring, drawing soft lines with your finger on the skin of Joel's chest.

He huffs out a breath at the explanation, shaking his head. "Guess you got your answer, huh." He grumbles out, somewhat ashamed of himself that he couldn't hold back.

You smile and lean up to kiss his cheek. "I did," you chirp happily, admiring his face again. "You know you're gonna have to fuck me, like, everyday now, right?"

You're kidding. But you're also not at all.

Joel scoffs and sits up, moving to pick up both his and your shirts. "Fat chance. Barely had enough stamina for one round." He grunts out, finding the neck hole in your tank top and putting it over your head for you.

You don't bother to pull it down over your breasts so Joel does it for you.

"It's okay, we can build up your tolerance over time." You quip with a teasing smile, loving the way Joel turned to glare a you.

He couldn't believe the youth these days.