#USE YOUR BRAINNNN

[mossistyping]

nickname me Cain because-

[bethrnoora]

speaking of folk horror im thinking about the big folk horror account i followed on twitter that, presumably initially jokingly, posited that sgt howie didnt deserve his fate and then when people were like Well, doubled down and got defensive about him being noble or some shit. bestie did we watch the same film

[markiecake]

girl what about mark and a size kink sorry I've been obsessed with size kinks recently so like big dick mark or something also it looks like he's been bulking up I'm not okay 😦

A/N: LAWWWDDD ANON I'M GLAD I'M NOT THE ONLY ONE `(*>﹏<*)′

tags/ warnings: smut (MINORS DNI !!), MONSTER COCK MARKKKKK :3, fem! reader, reader is smaller than mark, size kink size kink size kink !!!!!, tummy bulge, me just yapping about mark basically

he has been looking so buff these days it's making me so insane, and i just KNOW he loves to use it to his advantage !!!

idk just imagining mark with a girl who is so much smaller than him IT DOES SOMETHING TO HIS BRAINNNN LIKE

even non sexual acts of dominance like he would literally feel on top of the world if he was able to open a jar of something for you or reach a high shelf when you couldn't do it yourself 😭

BUT big dick mark 😵‍💫 he tries soso hard to go slow at first and let you get used to his size but sometimes he doesn't know his own strength :,(

shushing you as you quietly sob beneath him, kissing away each tear on your cheeks.

he can literally barely move to begin with, considering how tight you are around his thick cock !!! he hesitates a bit because he thinks he could literally break you, but you give him a small nod and it sets something off inside of him 😵‍💫😵‍💫

also thinkin bout how absolutely feral he would become if he could see the bulge of his cock through your tummy ≧ ﹏ ≦ he'd grab your hand and place it over, making you feel it as well !

"feel that, baby?" he practically whispers, "i'm righttttt here." as he pauses inside of you to fully revel in the moment LORDDDD

once you get the slightest bit used to it, he just starts to go harder or faster omgggg :,)

your nails scratching his back as he pounds into you at an insane pace D: him giving quiet apologies in response to your whimpers and whines.

OR MAYBE markie making you ride him to see how much you can really take ＞︿＜

leaning back against the bed, watching you with a smile as you struggle to take his whole length :(((

whines of his name just making him laugh and pat your hair softly. still, he is a soft dom til the end and will praise you the whole time ! he's such a "biiiig stretch" kind of guy like just soso soft for you :DDD

(i also think if he was in a hard dom mood he would SO put you in a mini headlock with his big ass arms- *GUNSHOTS*)

[anime-fan-05]

I love your writing brainnnn 🧠

Perhaps a short story or head canon about how toge would protect the reader if she was getting cat called in public?? like maybe he uses his cursed speech to make the guy leave/embarrassed/ regret ever opening his mouth !!

Cat called? Not when I'm around!

Manga/anime: Jujutsu Kaisen

Warnings: slight spoilers of Toge's Cursed Speech

(Y/N): your name

It was a beautiful spring day: the sun was out, but it wasn't too burning or hot; the wind blew delicately on the branches of the trees, which were moving gently. Completing that scenario were Toge and (Y/N) holding hands.

The two had had a free day, so they had gone to eat at a restaurant and then started walking in a park.

Everything was going well, until a guy tried to flirt with the girl, completely ignoring her boyfriend.

"Please, leave me alone! I'm already engaged." (Y/N) tried to walk away, but she failed.

"Come on… You won't tell me you're with that one!" The guy replied, pointing to Toge.

Toge was very angry, so, taking (Y/N)'s hand, he dragged her away, but…

"Come on, beautiful, come here with me! I can treat you much better than him! Hey, beauty! Come on, you don't know how good I'll make you feel and how much fun you'll have if you come here with me."

Toge was furious: he couldn't speak, because, if he did, he would reveal his powers; what kind of guy was he if he couldn't even defend his girlfriend from a harasser?

Shaking her boyfriend's hand, (Y/N) turned to the harasser: "Listen well, you. Toge is the best boyfriend a person could ever have; he isn't able to talk, but every day, every single day he makes me feel loved and special. I don't care what you offer, I'll never leave him!"

Toge blushed, hiding his cheeks in his uniform's collar, but the guy didn't seem to give up: he took (Y/N)'s other hand and began to pull her towards him. At that point, Toge's thoughts about stopping himself from speaking vanished, so he, after lowering his uniform's collar, yelled: "Go away!"

The harasser immediately left, so the two were left alone.

"Takana?"

"Yes, I'm fine. Thank you, love."

Afterwards, they started walking again, still holding hands, which they had never let go; however, after a while (Y/N) heard her phone ring: she had just received a message from Toge.

Did you really mean what you said before?

The girl shifts her eyes to her boyfriend, who was looking at her expectantly, with hopeful eyes and a light blush on his cheeks.

"Yes: I'll never leave you, at least until you no longer want me."

As soon as she saw what he had written to her, (Y/N) lunged at Toge, knocking them both to the ground and hugging and holding him tight.

Then stay with me forever.

If you didn't remember or know, 'takana' (mustard leaf) is the word used by Toge to show concern/worry.

💮 Rules 💮 Masterlist 💮

[eaterofbonez]

tired of near hate!!!!!!

yes!!!! he is almost just like L!!!!!! he was literally groomed to be just like him!!!!!! HES LITERALLY L’S SUCCESSOR!!!!!!! USE! YOUR! BRAINNNN!!!!!

[seiko-e]

jjk angst/ fluff

Gojo satoru

Sitting on the couch with your child in hand, you remember the day how your husband first confessed his feelings for you…. “WHERE'S YOUR BRAINNNN, THE SIX EYES WHERE IS ITT, HOW COME ITS NOT WORKING!!!!” “Maybe because YOUR SO NOISY AND PLUS, THE FRKN CLAW MACHINE IS BROKEN, ITS DIFFICULT TO PREDICT ITS MOVEMENTS!!!!” “Gee, anyways spit it out, what exactly is your purpose in inviting me to an arcade, pls dont tell me your gonna make me carry all of the plushies you've won” “Shh i'm gonna tell you once i figure out this machines timing and win the plushy, so do me a favor of silencing that cute mouth” “HAH! And what if i don't~?” He wins a plushy and turns to hand the plushy and leans closer to you “I will put my tongue inside, oh, and i don’t mean inside your mouth~”he chuckles Your face immediately got red as your brain already went to something spicy And after that, you got only one plushy while satoru got a big ass slap on his face You remember lots of sweet memories with you and your husband in the past, knowing that you can never create new once with him. Still, you hope he also remembers your sweet past and would guide you, now that you're alone with your child in the land of the living…

Geto suguru

You stand in front a grave of a person whom is dear to you, as it rains of sorrow… “Hey wait up!” “HURRYYY OR IT MIGHT DIE” The girl huffs and gasps for air as she runs as fast as she can. Pass the rocky streams and trees,is a small dark cave, The boy lits up a stick to use as a torch, inside the cave is a kitten who seems to be injured, Its other eye was missing, right ear bleeding, half of the fur was filled with red. “You have the med kit right? Go and patch the kitten up, i'm not really good with patching up so i'll stay here and keep in watch for any danger or predators, got it? The girl nods in response ands starts to patch the kitten up, but then realized, the kitten isn't breathing anymore The girls heartbeat spikes and starts thumping in nervousness “Um…suguru….the-” “Y/N!!!” Before the curse can devour you, the boy is able to grab your arm, suguru dragging the girl away from the curse as the girl quickly stands up and the two run… Several weeks has passed since that incident, both still can't forget and would even joke on how much of a moron the other is “Hahahah if it wasn't for your idiocy, we wouldn't have to run like foxes” “OH YEAH?? WELL IF SOMEONE HAVE JUST LET THE KITTEN BE, WE COULD HAVE JUST PLAYED IN THE PLAYGROUND LIKE WE ALWAYS DO” The boy laughs as the girl pouts “At Least that was memorable, creating cool memories is our top priority right?, after all…you'll move to america in a few days” “Yeah…we got 4 days left…” “Then i wish america doesn't have monsters like the once we encounter here, that way, i wouldn't have to worry about you being in danger” “Yeah, i wish so too.., suguru, promise you won’t get eaten by those monsters, ok?” “In that case, you must also promise to stay away from danger” “Ok! I promise” “Promise” The rain starts to cry louder, you dropped you umbrella on the ground as you kneel down in front of suguru’s grave, clothes drenched in the rain and puddle. “At least you fulfilled your promise of not getting eaten and ate them instead….”you exclaimed with a cracked, low voice.

that's all for the jjk fandom as my reward for gaining 100 likes achievement, feel free to request

[findmeinthefallair]

Thinking out loud...I'm both relieved that Hunter wasn't singled out by The Collector to go through these horrors...yet ofc curious what it may've looked like.

Nonetheless, his mind would be unleashing nightmares upon him even after Belos's death.

C-PTSD nightmares seem to have three flavours (going off my own experience..this isn't textbook or researched, as a disclaimer).

There are two kinds that have the theme of immediate danger.

First is the type where you yourself are being physically threatened. I don't want to choose the more graphic violent ones for this post but an example I can cite is being arrested and thrown into prison. Those got me on pretty high alert and idk, it was like this I guess:

Second would be the ones where you can't save someone else. Those hurt and yes, they pack a nasty punch. I've only had this type once as far as I can remember. But poor Hunter would have it worse since Belos could literally puppet him to be the one to harm the best friend he loved most:

The relational ones, though? That involve being blamed and/or abandoned, with no physical threats? Those are where you are in touch with the shame, which in a way makes it the worst of all three in my opinion. Because the deep sense of shame is the aspect of the condition which you can't reason your way out of using impersonal logic...in the way that you can e.g. come up with an escape plan or hold off an assailant.

The most memorable one was being in a dark room, almost entirely pitch black, seeing my 5 or 6-year-old self looking at me like this:

and because you just know stuff in dreams, I knew she was demanding an answer from me, as to why I wasn't there for her to protect her.

And holy smokes this was freakier than the first two categories. Because I had no adrenaline in my system, and somehow this third kind of dream always takes place in narrow spaces where I can't sprint and run elsewhere. Brainnnn, whyyyy?? Therefore I couldn't even give myself an adrenaline rush from fleeing anyway if I wanted to. (Idk if anyone else experiences this?) The first two kinds always took place in wide spaces e.g. underground parking lots and forests.

A similar nightmare involved an abusive family member whom I was trapped on a small boat with, and I had to listen to him demean and minimize me all over again while I was stuck, and I somehow didn't make myself just jump off the boat to swim away.

This type of nightmare is the one that can get me upset for hours after I wake from them, while with the others I get out of the shock a lot quicker for some reason.

For Hunter...it would involve Belos, other Grimwalkers, his friends and others such as those he previously worked with in the Castle, blaming him and judging him in his nightmares. Worst is if Flapjack does the same to him and rejects him. And I apologize for this angsty train ride but...but...he might see those poor lost palismen all over again, since it points towards the profession we see him thriving in, during the epilogue sequence...:

*drags this lost child to therapy sessions*

So yeah. The first two kinds are a more straightforward fit with how C-PTSD changes a person's neural networks and primes them to act relatively calmly in actual physical crises. The high price paid is, the person therefore struggles once things become safer (e.g. arguing with someone who is actually a safe presence), in some twisted unfair form of compensation. This is seen in how Hunter's triggers properly emerge once he's actually physically distanced from Belos: Labyrinth Runners and For the Future are the main examples.

It is painful and difficult, only becoming easier once the person has built a solid support network and can repair their own relationship with themselves.

In fact, my body sometimes feels as though I strangely want such a thrill e.g. riding in an ambulance all over again, a re-enactment of those times of high alert, because they are still more 'comfortable': rather than having no choice but to experience and accept that ingrained sense of shame, process it, and ride the wave instead of simply throwing a punch at it or evading it. Wanting that thrill is our equivalent of wanting a "fix", I guess.

Safe to say, this is why the canon Watching and Dreaming moments that hit hardest are the (false) blaming statements that Luz's friends direct at her. Because the ultimate test is whether the dreamer believes those or not.

[agalychnisspranneusroseus]

re: raised in amphibia marcy who is nothing but the cores host

beyond the psychological stuff im also thinking about the physical. the evil science possibilities. im just like. canonically its hinted that the core did stuff to marcys body just in the few months it had her to make its vessel more suitable. the plug ports that were apparently in her limbs bc otherwise she would be getting stabbed by those things. "this thing needs some calibration" about marcys body??? what did it mean by that??? and like u mention her being wired up to it in the original ask

anyways im up here thinking abt how much it mightve done to her if it had her for that long. if it had the same plug things installed in her limbs as she seemed to in canon shed probably need replacements if they happened when she was young enough and grew significantly since then.

also my mom used to work in the brain-computer interface industry and well. to get really any level of highly detailed or accurate data, let alone on the scale youd need to fully interface with the entire brain, you would absolutely need to have direct access to the brain rather than trying to go through the skull. theres no way this girl doesnt have a port of some kind implanted in her head for the core to directly connect to her brain.

hell maybe it doesnt wanna deal with biological organs and the problems that might arise from them. no big deal itll just have them replaced!

Aaaaagh dude i love your asks. Galaxy brain asks from my galaxy friend mutual.

Anyway. Yes i I have thought quite a bit about Marcy's whole deal. What Andrias cares about is her brainnnn that blob of grey matter that's somehow a biological supercomputer. He has no qualms in eventually getting rid of the body and keeping the brain in a jar, immortalized as an invaluable piece of hardware with the help of some shadowfish biotechnology (shhh lemme tell you a secret: he actually does care for her and love her and takes no joy in hurting her. He just doesn't love her enough to save her :3). Anyway, unfortunately, when he found this thing, her brain was surprisingly underseveloped. He had a vague awareness that the unfortunate coincidence of bipedism and viviparity so characteristic of homo sapiens resulted in them giving birth to useless, half-developed fetuses (as opposed to fully mature, egg-born pollywogs), but surely, by age three, a human would be more mature, right? He checked his archives on alien biology and, indeed, no. An average human's brain isn't fully developed until around age 25. Marcy may be smart, but she's still, by all accounts, a homo sapiens pollywog. He consults the Core. The Core wants a host. They want a body, and they want this brain. They will do with just the brain, is Andrias is too useless to secure them the body, but even if they're willing to wait for another body (stronger, bigger, more amphibian) to come around eventually, they know it won't work as well as with the original brain-body combination.

He decides to raise Marcy to be 25. He keeps her mind sharp and body healthy, or as healthy as possible. She undergoes many week-long sessions unconscious and connected to all sorts of wires as tubes. It's so normal for her, that by age 6 she knew how to get on top of the plataform or into the tank without falling, and how to put on her own oxygen mask. She always woke up feeling weak and hungry when it was over, and with one killer headache, but her dad always held the biggest fests for her with all her favorite food when it was over! She always looked forward to her sessions. Like a dog.

In these sessions, she would undergo several procedures. There's mossman, shadowfish and amphibian biotechnology involved. The point is to 1) make her brain Core-friendly - if it has many dimensions that would make things easier! And 2) translate the data from the Core into something that can be run in a biological machine. For which they need to understand and explore said machine. She only has one port, in the back of her neck, hidden by her long hair. It connects straight into her spine and her brain. In essence, these are fitting sessions. The Core is trying out their new house. Ever since she was little, they actually did use her brain to run tests and perform different functions. Most of the times it was mostly to study it, but as she grew older, they began using her whenever a function required too much energy, whenever something that would take forever to load with its own equipment, would render almost instantly with hers. They never left any data behind, erasing all evidence of their presence, and they never fully transported anything to this new extension, using only copies of data with the original files safe in the Core. The point is to leave the Core behind eventually and fully move on to this new computer, but not yet.

A few funny side effects!

Her blood is slowly growing more and more green as the years pass. This actually has less do to with brain stuff, and more as early preparation for eternal youth and immortality. It's mean to make her last longer. When she first meets Anne at age 10 - 11, her blood is a brown-ish color, but by the time things blow up when she's like 13-14, it's just a gross green. Her kidneys filter it out with time and her blood returns to its original red color, and Anne and Sasha see her real skin color for the first time, since before she always had this weird green tint, but they didn't know enough about humans to tell it wasn't normal. Seeing her blush red instead of green for the first time is kinda magical.

Migraines! Especially after a session. Especially when she does something the Core wouldn't like, because despite how hard they try to erase their traces, Marcy's most primal survival instincts remember.

More indirect effect but going several weeks a year without eating can't be good for her. It makes her feel very tired, dizzy and weak, even if she's eating normally, because three days ago she was starving.

The port in the back of her neck itches a lot. After becoming queen, she asked the royal physician that put it her to remove it, but he was scared of leaving her paralyzed, since it was so deeply fused with her nervous system. Sasha still thinks she should've had the guy publicly excecuted or something.

Idk if it counts but ?? Andrias wouldn't touch her if she was sick, so Olivia often found ways to give her a fever in secret or something to spare her. She did it to protect her, but it does mean Marcy spent a big deal of her childhood in bed, recovering from a session or a light illness.

The Core communicates with her nervous system through electric signals, and even thought they don't want to harm it, they still make her muscles contract a lot so she feels super sobre afterwards lots of muscle pain all the time.

There is no helmet in this one. No indirect connection. When Andrias puts the Core in Marcy, he goes all the way. Straight into her brain! They got a new PC :3

[darkpokemonspecialist]

Today I had to turn over a Master Ball to Officer Jenny after finding Camonte trying to convince our neighbor to give him food for it

1) Where did he even GET a Master Ball?!

2) I'm baffled he tried to trade it for SNACKS. Like, he understands the bare basics of how money works. I know because he not only typically has some Murkrow go after wallets, but he once managed to sell a Water Stone! I still don't know how he managed to communicate with the buyer.

But then when he gets something REALLY valuable...he wants an ice cream sandwich. Buddy. Pal. YOU'RE THE "BIG BOSS" POKEMON! Use your brainnnn.

[iamthecomet]

-slides into your inbox-

For your consideration: Dew used to refuse to bottom, like, in any capacity, or show any signs of submission (since subbing and bottoming are two different things) when he was first summoned due to his own complicated relationship with his sexuality and so forth.

Like, he was really insecure about the idea of letting someone manhandle him, because of his size, and, ya know, having had others take advantage of that in fights, etc, in the past and how it makes him feel small in a not so good kind of way.

And he kind of thought, from unfortunate past experiences, that if he did submit to someone once, that it would become an expectation/that would be how it would always be and that he'd permanently be giving up any and all control in the situation.

Just very mixed up/worried about the whole thing.

When he actually confides in the other ghouls about it, they're like, "Who told you that???"

And, whoo boy, is that a conversation they had to have.

The end result is that Dew is suddenly like, "THAT WAS ALWAYS ALLOWED??? I CAN DO BOTH??? I CAN SWITCH???"

Among other things, ya know.

The tldr would be; Dew learns he can have his cake and eat it too in a way.

Yes yes yes yessssss LAMP. Lamp get out of my BRAINNNN. I've been thinking about this lately too. Dew, to me, is very much vers/switch. Which role he plays depends on his partner, the context, what they both need. But I think his relationship with it wasn't always so fluid. I think Dew likes to have some control--even if he's bottoming or subbing. He feels more comfortable having a little leverage. And it takes a lot for him to trust any partner that wants to completely incapacitate him. So, when it comes to new ghouls/ghoulettes? He won't bottom or sub for them until he really knows them. Until he trusts them. He can't bring himself to do it. It's part of that hang up he will always have--that worry that if he does it once they will always expect it. That they will see him in a way he doesn't want to be seen. And I love this idea that he just, never knew. Didn't know that he was allowed to like it all. Allowed to do it all without judgment or expectation. And I think he still feels that anxiety sometimes. That he has to guard his decisions and what he does because he doesn't want to be put into a box he can't figure out how to get out of.

[litrumi]

(W.I.P. AU Concept Idea) DayNap "Cycled Forms" (AU Name... don't know yet)

Not me procrastinating my basic ass DayNap fanfic with even MORE DayNap ideas suddenly manifesting in my brainnnn. Ughhh. Oh well...

Very long, stupid, unfinished idea ahead. You've been warned.

Anyway, one of my "ddnt" posts (#1 basically) kinda-sorta stuck around in my head a little.

It's still SOMEWHAT like a turn based game, I guess? Fantasy-esque world. The basis of Dogday and Catnap's design is basically still the cartoon variations, probably taller or at least more adapted to the scenario. This is "to be determined still."

Dogday and Catnap are basically some fresh out of training specialized warriors/protectors. Tasked with putting a stop to some recent outbreak with these shadow creatures that are somehow roaming about at any time of day. In any time that is NOT night time (morning/afternoon/evening), these shadow creatures are relatively weakened. Still a nuisance at best, but they're much weaker at these other times of day.

Therefore, Dogday and Catnap can still deal with them with relative ease and their own specialties. (An easy going time inspired by THIS track, against these not-so-threatening foes).

Dogday's capabilities (Not finalized) are best summarized as being good with:

AoE (Area of Effect damage), Buffs (Strength and Defense stat raising for the both of them), himself generally being tankier rather than a damage dealer (potentially a skill that let's him take a share of the damage Catnap would have normally received in full. Noble sacrifice).

Catnap's capabilities (Not finalized):

Single-target damage, speed, maybe some partial healing? (I swear I remember hearing about some concept like moonlight having healing properties before, I dunno where though). Anyway, the trade-off thus being he won't last long HP wise. And he has not-so-great defense per se. Glass-cannon-y.

These basic traits aside, remember how I said the shadow creatures are weaker when it's not night? Well, make it night time and they're much more dangerous foes to do battle against. Larger in size, more damage, the whole works.

But then it stands to reason... that Dogday and Catnap should be able to handle the night shift too. So, what's the best way to let them fight these stronger enemies? Duh, get stronger themselves. In some way.

And that way, I say, is with their Night-time ONLY available "Cycled Forms!" (Get it, DAY CYCLE. HA-). (The alternate version of the previous song really inspired the idea of night-time battles for me. Primarily from 0:56 onwards)

*They don't get forced to change into these forms, but they know it's strategically the right move. So they don't really hesitate to use them in battle. (And I am sincerely hoping I'm not stepping on anyone's toes with any of these ideas. I swear I'm new around here! I don't know all the amazing things y'all have probably cooked up as your own ideas already. I promiseeee!!! *sob*)

Dogday, at Night, can become... EtherealDog! It's basically him with slight changes (that I haven't worked out yet, but maybe star-like pupils) and a flowing aurora borealis just moving along his body. He's still a bright guy, even at night! (Most likely similar to this kind of color scheme or this one... I can't decide.)

He gets to float slightly off the ground, but not "fly" with this form. Now, he manifests different colors of light that shine prettily and spectacularly. And these lights add new things to his arsenal.

EtherealDog can:

Inflict status conditions with his dazzling, brilliant light (and one of them surely is a very strong blinding condition that leaves the enemy seeing nothing but a bright white light), use a light that burns so bright it can melt things with high-degree melting points, or you know, some thick ice, but also he can use a light that makes it very chilly as well, potentially freezing things (at least I'm pretty sure I remember some sort of media that did something like that before). Basically, think "a little" elemental (not all of them though). He does have some of his previous capabilities, but maybe he's "less tanky" to offset for some balance. Idk.

Now, as for Catnap, at Night, he can become... (Dark) MatterCat! He'd also slightly float off the ground, but not fly. His color scheme would be something very much like this here, basically a darker, crimson purple, kinda spacey matter-y thing flowing through his body much like the case with EtherealDog. This form has no mouth, but he can talk just fine (perhaps the sound of his voice just projects off of him?). His eyes are pure white but still express emotions normally (Think like Spiderman's mask, but no stripes or lines or anything. …And also NOT a mask, fyi. He's still just one solid, yet flowing matter color).

Anyway, (Dark) MatterCat can:

Make faux (fake) objects out of matter (like a sword or matter shield) which creates more possibilities for him to defend or develop other strategies instead of only being some big damage attacker, and also he'd for sure have empowered healing by using "pure matter" that could restore HP and relieve either of them from a status effect inflicted on them. He may even have a skill that requires a lot of concentration and power from him that may send an enemy into the vast, dark matter dimension where the pressure there just sorta crushes the foe. Trade-offs being he'd lose some speed and some skills may require more time (turns, I guess) thusly.

The only thing to consciously remember is these special forms are NIGHT-TIME ONLY. So they're way less powerful, themselves, if it's not Night.

That's really all I've got so far. Nothing's set in stone. I barely thought of this today.

Their personalities don't change from being in a different form, just so you know. They're still as they usually are (subject to change).

I think Dogday would be capable of fighting, but also have hesitant thoughts that make him wonder if they really need to be doing this. He'd contemplate other options before understanding there's probably no other way out of the situation they're in (hence the ddnt post where he hugs a Li'l Shado instead of destroying it).

Catnap would rather just get the job done and not think too hard about it. So he's definitely fine fighting if it's called for. But he cares a great deal about Dogday's safety in all of this too, just as Dogday would care for his.

Dogday, watching Catnap attentively because it's the cat's turn: Remember to be careful!

Catnap, focusing but appreciating the other's concern: Don't worry, I've got this!

The duo always work together. They know each other well enough to be great friends because they've been training together and learning more about each other in that time. Still, the adventure calls for blossoming feelings! And being amazed with what the other can do in an actual fight. It's just how I roll.

-

Could very well edit these ideas if I wanna come back to this. But it's a placeholder for now until I figure out if I wanna go through with it or not. Even then I have so much to doooo ahhhhhh- Curse my obsessionnnn!!!!!

[m0nsterqzzz]

Puzzles Can Be Fun

pairing: boss!Tony Stark x employee!malereader

summary: Your boss Tony is a flirt. everyone knows that. but what about when he asks you out?

a/n: I had like no inspiration forever but then this piece of shit came into my brainnnn. hope you enjoy :)

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

Working for Tony Stark is a pain and pleasure at the same time. 

The billionaire can never fail to make you laugh, but he also never fails to give you a headache. 

You've worked for him for a few years since your older sister Pepper didn't get the job and she instead recommended you, her younger brother. 

Tony is a great man, but he's quite flirty. He leaves you gifts on your desk daily, uses terrible pick up lines as he leans against your doorframe every afternoon. He’s never truly asked you out on a date, and if that wasn’t proof that he’s kidding, the models he takes home every night are. He barely looks your way as he leads them out of his office and to his fancy cars. But that’s okay. You can’t be upset over losing something that was never really yours.

Today is no different. You arrive a little bit later than usual, a permanent blush coating your cheeks after being hit on by the hot barista when you were getting Tony's morning coffee. You knock on your bosses door but don’t wait for a “come in” before walking in. It’s a struggle with the drink carrier in one hand and folders in the other.  He’s sitting at a table covered in gadgets that you couldn’t name if your life depended on it, and he drops the screwdriver he’s holding to turn around and grin at you. “Hey handsome! How is my favorite employee this fine morning?” He says, standing up to grab some of the folders for you. “What do you want Tony? You’re being suspiciously nice.” You say. He fake gasps, holding a hand up to his chest as if your words hurt him.

You roll your eyes, setting down his coffee near his work station and sit in the chair he keeps near his, specifically for when you have no work to do and want to watch him work. He sits down next to you. He picks up the screwdriver again and goes back to working on one of the iron man suit hands. “I want to know if you’d come with me to a gala tomorrow? I don’t know if I’ll survive the night without you.” You’re barely paying attention as you begin filling out some forms in the files you brought in. “I work tomorrow. I have loads of paperwork to do.” “I’m your boss though.” “And boss, you scheduled for me to work 6 days a week. Tomorrow is one of those days.” “Okay then brainiac, as your boss, I’m giving you the duty of coming with me to an event tomorrow night.” 

You sigh, looking up from the legal document and focusing on him. “Fine. What do you want me to wear?” You give in. He grins. “Something fancy. Other than that, I leave it up to you. You have great style.”

It’s silent for a few minutes as you both continue on your work. 

“What’s this?” You hum, looking up when he doesn’t say anything. He’s glaring at his coffee cup like it just insulted him. “It’s your usual. A black coffee with two extra shots of espresso, vanilla creamer and an unhealthy and disgusting amount of sugar. Why? Is something wrong with it?” He shakes his head and then turns the cup a bit so you can see the words written on the side of it. There are a few numbers written on it. A phone number with the note:

Hope you enjoy the coffee pretty boy

Call me :)

The blush is back on your face, and you shake your head as you try to focus back on the paperwork in front of you. “The barista that works at the cafe down the road was flirting with me I think. I didn’t know if he was serious but I uh…I guess he was.” You shrug.

Tony instantly throws the to-go cup in the trashcan next to his table. “What the hell Tony? That was a perfectly good cup of coffee. He probably just didn’t know which cup was mine.” You say, but Tony doesn’t respond as he goes back to work like nothing happened.

You huff, standing up and looking into the trash can. It landed the perfect way, and you can still see the number on the cup. You put it in a contact on your phone.

“What? It’s not like you're gonna go out with him right?” Tony asks, his eyes not moving from his work. You sigh, sending a quick hello to the barista and grab the files off the table. It’s time to go back to your own desk.

“I don’t know. But the least I could do if I'm not going to is send him a quick message. I don’t wanna seem rude. Why does it matter to you?” He shrugs, not meeting your eyes. “It doesn’t sweetheart. Why don’t you go make me a coffee? I know yours are always made with love unlike that asshole. I bet his coffee was made with poison.” You scoff, rolling your eyes as you begin walking out of the office. You’re not Tony Stark's “sweetheart”.

A few hours later, you're sitting at your desk when Tony exits his office. He smiles at you, but you're still quite salty over the events this morning. He doesn’t say anything about it if he notices.

“So sweetheart, what are you doing tonight?” You groan, spinning around to look at the wall of hung up important reminders for you and simultaneously avoid looking at him. “Why do you wanna know Mr. Stark?”

He shrugs, looking at the dying flowers on your desk. “Do you need new flowers?” “Yes I do actually. The ones you got me are dying so I'm going to buy some more soon.” “Hm….interesting. Anyway, you never answered my question.” “That’s because I asked my own Mr. Stark.” He huffs.

“I want to take you out to dinner. Tonight.” His words take a moment to register in your head and then you're laughing. You’ve heard those words from Tony many times, but never once have they been uttered to you. His classic smirk drops a bit, but he begins to chuckle along with you. “W-why are we laughing? I mean….if you’re busy we can go another day.” You’re beginning to think he’s serious.

“That’s very funny Tony. Have a good night. I’ll see you tomorrow.” “I’m not kidding sweetheart.” You freeze, pretending to be focused on the work in front of you as you mow over his sentence. He’s silent, patiently- not really as he can never be patient- waiting for your reply.

“I can’t go out with you Tony.” His smile drops. “What? Why?” He asks. “Because you're my boss. I don’t know all the rules but I know that's pretty bad.” He sighs, leaning on your desk in a way that makes it hard to say no.

“But I’m your boss. I make the rules.” He says and you chuckle. “I’m sorry Tony. My answer is no. Now, if you don’t need anything else today, I’m going to go home and do puzzles while I watch TV and dinner.”

You’re packing up your stuff, and in a last bit of hope he rushes out, “I like puzzles! I would love to come over and help you with them. Thank you for the invite sweetheart.” You stop what you’re doing and look at him. “You can’t sit still for more than two minutes and the only puzzles you like involve mechanics. And also, I didn’t invite you.” You deadpan, and he mocks offensive. “You clearly don’t know me at all! I love puzzles. And dinner. I like dinner. So, what do you say? I’ll swing by at six and bring chinese from that place you like?” 

You take a moment to stare at him before you huff, nodding and trying not to smile at the grin that forms on his face. He nods and then speeds off to his office, leaving you alone to roll your eyes at his antics. Tony Stark is an annoying man, that's for sure. But you gotta give it to him, he’s pretty convincing.

Later that night, now in sweats and a t-shirt, you grab a three thousand piece puzzle from your closet. You have bigger ones, but you know Tony will quickly become bored and stressed with even a 100 piece one.

There's a knock on the door, and you find yourself checking your hair in the glass of a photo hanging in your hallway. You open the door, and Tony's standing there. He's wearing the same clothes as earlier, black jeans and a t-shirt, but he looks as good as always. 

He smiles his classic charming smile, holding up the fruit box filled with take out containers. in his other hand is a bouquet of flowers, a different type then the kind he got you last time. He notices your wide eyes at the gift and mumbles, “For your desk.”

You find yourself smiling a bit, taking the bouquet from him and smiling. “Thank you Tony. Come in.”

He follows you into your home, setting the food on the kitchen counter and looking at the puzzle spread out on your living room table. “That's…..a lot of pieces.”

You chuckle. “I'm not finishing it today. Don't panic. I’m not gonna torture you to much.” You say.

You grab some silverware and go to the living room, grabbing a random container of food along the way. Tony follows, sitting dangerously close to you. “So, what's it gonna look like when it's done?” You can practically feel his breath on your neck as he speaks, making you lightly shiver and show him the box.

It's a picture of what looks like a thousand butterflies, and he shouldn't be surprised with the knowledge that you draw butterflies flying on his arms during every single meeting.

You start building the border, watching with a small smile as Tony separates them by pieces with pictures on them and pieces with no pictures, just color. 

About 30 minutes later, Tony's rambling on about some movie he watched recently. He seems to have forgot the main task at hand. But that's okay, you already have most of the border done.

He suddenly stops talking, sitting up from his lying position and looking at the puzzle again. “I got this.” He starts grabbing random border pieces and connecting the ones that connect. Your phone starts buzzing, the baristas contact showing up. You decline his call, not missing the way Tony clenches and unclenches his jaw.

Another 10 minutes later, you can tell he's becoming agitated. You place a gentle hand over one of his. “Its just a puzzle Tony. Take a deep breath and control your anger.” He chuckles and rolls his eyes, but does it anyway.

“I’m not mad, I'm just……94.27 percent annoyed. Not at you though, sweetheart.” He says and you laugh.

He sets down the pieces, going back to lying down and you ask, “You knew you'd hate this. Why are you really here Tony?”

He sighs, still looking at the ceiling as he admits, “I want to get closer to you. If I do, maybe you'll consider going out with me.” This brings a small chuckle out of you. “I told you I can't go out with you Tony. Even if we get closer.” You say, not looking up from the puzzle as you do.

He nods, and you think he's dropped the subject until he sits up to look at you. His brown eyes are staring at yours, making you slightly nervous. Not in a bad way though? This is confusing.

“Look at me sweetheart. Look me in the eyes and tell me you don't feel the same way.” Your eyes widen, and a smirk makes its way onto his face when you blush. “Well…I….I can't exactly say that I don't…” He grins, and your instantly being lifted off the couch and into his arms.

He grabs you like your nothing, and then practically slams you into the wall and begins kissing you like his life depends on it. And lets set the record straight, it was the best wall make out of all time.

His hands start traveling, and your instantly snapped back into reality. You gently push him off of you, but his erratic breathing and blown pupils are making what you're about to say so much harder. “I don't want to be one of your one night stands Tony. I've wanted this for a really long time but I won't do it if things are going to go back to the way they were before tomorrow morning.” He takes a moment to collect himself before he mumbles against your lips, “It won't be. I'm yours alright? And I'm hoping you'll be mine. We can take this as slow as you want. And also I'd really love it if you'd never talk to that barista ever again unless you're ordering my coffee. And if he does it again, I'll buy the cafe. Let's see him flirt on the clock again.”

You laugh, giving him a quick kiss before leaning to the side to whisper in his ear, “Your mine? You promise?” “I promise.” “Then I'm yours. All of me.” The look in your eyes is all the confirmation he needs and suddenly you're being thrown over his shoulder.

Your laughter fills the apartment as he carry you down the hallway and to your room, the puzzles long forgotten.

[burst-of-iridescent]

I agree so hard with the previous ask. Your takes are GALAXY BRAINNNN 🌌🧠💅👑

please forgive my excessive emoji use

thank you so much! that is so sweet of you to say and it really made my day when i received this ask ❤️ have a wonderful day!

[system-society]

ehehehh sorry if im bothering uuu ,, just lookin for advice,,

i thiiinkk i could have a crush on one of my alters (idk yet so im .. im figuring it out!!) annnd idk what to do abt that. especially considerign we live in the ssame brainnnn that makes things. complicated.

erm also,, how do i try to set up boundaries with my headmates,, especially in headspace,,..? aaannnd what if he doesnt listen to what i have to say annnd just break those boundaries instead,,,

srry if im bothering u ;;

Hi anon!! No worries!!

Honestly, if you have a crush, its better to say something! Once you figure it out ofc, but they can sometimes feel your emotionbleed and things can get more awkward. Being in the same headspace means you’re going to live together in the same body, so things can’t get awkward. Emphasize that this is just how you feel, it’s okay if it isn’t reciprocated, and you must ensure to be able to work with them it they don’t.

As for boundaries, for us at least they function the same way as irl. We try to be very clear to one another on what’s okay and what’s not. If they don’t listen, there are often consequences. I want to tell you that it’s okay to argue with your headmates if they’re being rude, its okay to ignore them for a bit. Heck, it’s okay to get a gatekeeper involved if its getting extremely out of hand. Sometimes there are consequences to being an asshole, and sometimes headspace may get a little dysfunctional, but that’s okay! It’s simply life.

[mattthebunny]

Just had a lovely conversation with my roommate about ed$ And it’s so hard not to compare myself to her. She’s like “yeah I didn’t eat anything for a whole day” and I’m like in the back of my head “I chew and spit for days on end, I lost 60 lbs, my hair fell out and I couldn’t poop until 3 weeks ago”

And I told her like “oh yeah my hair fell out” and she’s like “how long did you st@rve..” like girl your hair falling out starts at week 2-3 sorry you didn’t st@rve st@rve like me girl idk what to tell you..

This all came up cause she’s like “I almost passed out in the shower right now cause I only ate one thing today.” And then I was like “omg yeah I use to almost pass out a lot” and SHE brought up ed$ NOT ME.

Like I can NOT GET BACK INTO MY ED BRAINNNN YALLLL. I’m overeating now cause I don’t wanna go back.. (I’m not gaining w3ight weirdly lol)

I mean… should I get back on that grind? Yeah I might idk I wanna suffer more. Already back to cvtting why not st@rving?

[shirks-all-responsibilities]

The loose structure of the way you wrote this, the impact of it? It’s such a good match, a mirror, for Joel’s state of mind?

And I love too how in parts I found myself wondering whether Joel was the one thinking it in his head or if it was the omniscient narrator filling me in, the ambiguity fits so well? And the way you cover so much ground from their backstory to the present with such economy? Loved it all.

And I can ABSOLUTELY see why you highlighted that first line about the flannel because HELLOOOO? 🥵🥵 WHAT a way to yank us right down instantly from the past into the steamy & tactile present?? And WHAT an image it is–it's seared into my brain, an instant, unforgettable classic you've created here. 😌

I’m obsessed with that line about his reprimand “disappearing from his tongue somewhere between the look you had given him, and the floor you’re now pressed against.” The way this pleases the synapses in my brainnnn, how it tells us so cleverly how they got from point a to b? And also that "content to know the scuffs on your boots better than the color of your eyes," it makes my fic-reading brain happeee.

And the railing in this, the way you wrote the moment he enters her?? Holy... And your characterization of him, how he’s so in control, the lil nuances you write in his dialogue and vibe, it is PERFECTION. And I did not know until now how much I needed that moment where he forces her hand away, tells her she doesn’t NEED it, I’m…

So many good lines in this, and the structure made it a TREAT to read.

— can’t get you out of my mind

joel miller x f!reader

rated e - 2k

tags: loose structure, flashbacks, jackson-era joel, joel pov, established relationship, light angst, slightly possessive!joel, floor unprotected piv, brief oral, praise kink, 1 ass smack, squirting, come marking

a/n: wip title was ‘reminiscing and railing’ - Joel railing reader while thinking back to their beginning.

The flannel you now wear around your waist bunches in his fist. Using it as leverage, the jerk of his hand as he pulls you back to meet his thrust.

His flannel.

Joel recognizes it. A relic from Lincoln, the green and reds fading with the trail long since traveled. Patched sewn over holes that match scars carved into his own flesh.

Sweat beads at the nape of his neck.

The days have started growing shorter, as the leaves have started to fade into shades of gold and copper.

But the weather still clings onto the last dregs of summer. A morning chill that melts under the heat of the afternoon sun, settling over your skin.

He used to like this time of year.

Barbecues and football. An evening spent in front of Tommy’s new big screen, splitting a six-pack of some cheap, shitty beer - something that would feel like a luxury now.

Back-to-school shopping, the twist in his heart as he pulled up to the old brick building on the first day of school. The smile and wave that he had always tried to match, though she was far braver than he was.

That was a long time ago. The memories have become blurry, ones he reaches for in his sleep. Slipping through his fingers.

Still trying desperately to forget what came after.

His birthday. The outbreak. Sarah.

A permanent stain, ink red. For years there had been a desire to just skip these months. To go to sleep in the heat of the summer and wake up in winter, instead.

But even that wish has started to fade, but only just. Though, it wasn’t time that did it.

Now, layers are shed as the early patrol comes to an end - a reprieve taken within the wall of an abandoned house you’ve come to know well.

The flannel you now wear around your waist bunches in his fist. Using it as leverage, the jerk of his hand as he pulls you back to meet his thrust.

His flannel.

Joel recognizes it. A relic from Lincoln, the green and reds fading with the trail long since traveled. Patched sewn over holes that match scars carved into his own flesh.

His fingers had fumbled, not more than a week ago. Flattening over the curve of his chest, as he peered at himself the in cracked mirror.

Where the fabric pulled a little too tightly over his back. The buttons straining across his stomach. Hard labor in Jackson had thickened his shoulders. The food you made with so much care had nourished him.

Finally a chance to breathe in twenty years - to not rely on ration cards, or his own skill with a gun to guarantee a hot meal.

You had found him like this, your soft smile reflected in the mirror.

He had forgotten all about it, by the time you stripped the shirt from him.

There’s something inside of him that burns, to see the fabric tied around you now. The strips of skin above and below - the catalyst that had kicked off this unexpected break.

Tempted by your bare legs, kicked up on the broken coffee table. A peek of your stomach, as you stretched - before knotting your stolen flannel around your waist.

A reprimand had been on his tongue since this morning. That only layers could prevent a bite, the scrapes and scratches of being in the woods. His own too-hot canvas jacket a sacrifice he was used to making.

Disappearing from his tongue somewhere between the look you had given him, and the floor you’re now pressed against.

That canvas jacket discarded, slipped beneath your knees. Your cheek pressed against the sleeve, the button like a brand against your jaw. A mark indenting your skin, as your eyes screw shut.

His own knees ache, where they knock against the wooden floor. The creak of his leather boot as he adjusts the angle - a leg rising, a heavy foot pressing firm and flat against the ground as he arcs over you.

Your lips part with moan beneath him, the sound strangled as the air is pushed from your lungs.

So deep. So warm - his breath coming in a rough rush as he leans into you. Nudging himself just a little bit deeper, a palm pressing between your shoulder blades for balance.

It had been barely winter, when he’d first found this place. Another month before he brought you here, sheltering from a storm.

Eyes still fixed out the bare windows, at the skeleton-fingers of trees as you had rode him. Your own head thrown back, chest heaving against the mouth that teased at your tits - too intent on your own movements to notice the way his eyes drifted.

Fixing out, into the forest. Unable to help the split attention, with wounds still fresh from Salt Lake City. Hands that had taken, too harsh in the way they had bit into your skin.

The rough slap of his thighs when the sliver of control had been wrenched from you - rolling you beneath him to finish the job.

Now, with the golden sun overhead, the gentle sway of the leaves in the breeze - he gives.

Eyes fixed only on you.

He’s spent too much time looking away. Almost realizing it when it was too late. All those weeks of looking anywhere but at you.

It had been easier, that way. Maybe a part of him had known, deep down. An instinctual inkling of what you’d become to him.

He hadn’t been ready.

Content to know the scuffs on your boots better than the color of your eyes, missing the way they crinkle when you smile at him.

The way they widen, flutter, squeeze shut - just for him. Only for him.

It’s always taken him a little time to come around.

It was winter when you had fallen together. But it had been earlier that spring when the seed had been planted, first taking root.

His first true spring in Jackson - getting to see the shoots push up in the community garden. The main road slowly waking after a cold winter, filling out with people and stalls and coming to life, again.

You were new, slipping in while the town had still slept.

Easily winning Ellie over with your baking, simple cakes made from what they had. Learned from those who had still remembered the before, passing down their memories.

He had been won over, later.

As the days had slowly grown longer, and then short again. Tentative smiles in the summer turning into excuses to stay just a couple minutes longer - when you showed up on his porch, something saccharine wrapped up in the wicker basket at your elbow.

The memory lingers on his tongue.

As sweet as the taste he had gotten between your thighs no more than a few minutes ago, your little gasp as he had groaned into you.

Unable to resist, as his thumbs had hooked around the elastic waistband of your shorts. Pushing them down your legs, letting them twist near your knees.

Seeing how you already arched for him, legs nudging wider for balance. Waiting for his fingers, but he had dipped - ignoring the dull stretch of his back as his lips had ghosted across yours.

His tongue following, where you’re plush and wet as the tip slipped against your slit. Pretty, he had thought, like he had a hundred times before.

You always were.

Under the sun, with the flash of your teeth, the cock of your head.

When your forehead wrinkled with worry, the urge always rising to press his thumb against them - wiping them away.

In sleep - with the flutter of your eyelashes and soft sigh, as you burrowed against his chest.

Your muscles had tensed - shoulders stiff and thighs trembling as you had taken him. A held breath hissing through teeth, turning into a sharp groan as the tip of his cock nudged its way inside.

As he enveloped himself in you, his own words near-stuttered with the way you immediately clenched down around him. Warm and wet and made for him.

“Come on, honey. You can take it.”

“That’s my good girl.”

That last one had you softening. Unable to hide the way his words affected you, your head lolling against your shoulder as his hips finally pressed flush to yours.

The sight will be one that he thinks of often. That twist of green and grey and red around your waist. The arch of your back, already a little shift of your hips as you encourage him to move.

All that soft skin, not nearly as marred as his. His palm flattened over the curve of your ass, a smack that is more sound than pressure.

Your groan filled the room, as he finally began to move. The soft snap of his hips turning sharp, as the memories had washed over him.

The shift of your arm brings him back, now. Eyes half-closed in bliss, the curl of your shoulder as your hand moves to slip between your legs.

Something pricks at him then, the bite of possession sinking its teeth into his skin. An ache to do this himself.

Though he might not need to - he can tell from the way you meet him, the bitten-back sounds you make, that the move was in desperation.

He should have been paying more attention.

No use thinking about the past, when he’s got you here now.

Joel catches your fingers, a broad hand curling around your wrist. Pinning it back against the floor as his knee drops to the ground again.

“Y’ don’t need it.” His chest presses into your back as he leans over you. Close enough for his stubble to scratch against your cheek, feel his weight as he cages you in, “Can come like this, can’t you?”

He says it like a question, but it’s not. Not really. An edge to his voice, your knees inching wider as they scrape against the floor. As his rhythm ticks up - sharper and faster than his lazy rhythm earlier.

Stroking against that spot inside you. Just a tease before, when his mind had wandered. Now he knows he has you there, right at the edge. Just needing a little more.

Something he’s sure he can give you, if you let him.

“Joel.” His name is broken, whined through your teeth. Laced with awe, as if he hadn’t done the same thing with his fingers - teased at your inner walls until you soaked them.

“I think I’m… oh my god-”

Breathless, as his nose ghosts against your neck. As he pins you further, arching your back more. Open-mouthed kisses pressed to your throat, as he feels you shiver beneath him.

“That’s it.” His teeth scrape skin, a ragged edge to his voice, “Know you are.”

Something that tips close to a plea, with the way he needs to feel it, with the way it punches from his lungs, “Lemme feel you come on my cock, sweetheart. Come on-”

Your fingers squeeze around his, clinging to him. A lifeline, as the feeling swells and then breaks - as he rips your orgasm from you. That warmth around him turning molten and wet as he feels that tight pulse, how you drip down his cock.

Down to where his balls grow tight, a sharp coiling in his belly. A feeling he tries to hold back, but you’re still moaning his name, eyes screwed shut as each pump of his cock draws your pleasure out.

Each thrust pushes the air from your lungs in a pretty gasp, too far gone to do anything but press your cheek to his coat. Hands trapped in his - one still pinned to the floor, the other biting into his wrist.

He’s too busy watching you to notice the way his thrusts have grown sloppy, off-rhythm in the way he’s racing to meet you.

“Fuck-” Joel’s jaw grits. There’s barely enough time for his hips to move - to pull his length from you, leaving you clenching.

Slick with your release as his fingers closes around his cock. Barely managing two pumps of his fist before he’s spilling over the swell of your ass, dripping down damp thighs.

His groan rough and broken in the empty house, panting breaths with the slick slide of his fist as he works himself empty.

Making a mess of you, your skin streaked with him, shining and glossy. It makes him he almost regret starting this here - that he can’t pull you into the shower, and then bed, after.

Instead, he hovers over you until his heart no longer races. Until he can push himself onto unsteady feet, finding an old rag in the kitchen.

Wiping your skin clean, as you sigh - boneless against the worn floor. Content as the sun streaks through the windows, warming patches of bare skin.

Sweat clings to his skin after, leaving him sticky. Heart still fluttering in his chest as you both finally move - backs pressing against the threadbare couch, clothes mostly fixed in place.

Your head presses against his shoulder, a loose little lean as your legs stretch out. Still just as bare as before, his hand curving around your thigh and squeezing.

Letting time pass, for just a little bit longer.

“Tommy said we would stop by for dinner,” You eventually break the silence - flashing a still-dazed smile, as your fingernails scratch into his forearm, “You wanna go? Ellie said she’d meet us there. Think she’s bringin’ a friend.”

So casual in the way you say it - as if they weren’t going to show up with bruised knees, still wearing his shirt. As if your skin wasn’t still stained with him, patches and still-drying streaks he might have missed.

Moving up to rub at the joints that grow sore with the heat and the cold. Such a small thing to remember, but you always do.

“Sounds good.” He sighs into your touch.

It ain’t a barbecue, but it’s close enough.

Joel used to hate this time of year.

But today… it doesn’t seem all that bad.

experimenting with different styles of writing - I thought of this as a sort-of sister fic to looking back! and thank you so much for reading, it is so appreciated 💖💕