#all the bullshit she put up with from him for 10 years and she's late to a crime scene ONCE and look at him ffajdslk

[lisbonsteresa]

he's HORRIBLE

[watcherintheweyr]

'Rhaenyra is a bad mom bc she knowingly gave birth to bastards and she knew how much danger they'd be in!!!!'

1. She had no way of knowing those babies wouldn't pop out looking exactly like her, beforehand. And unfortunately she couldn't stop at Jace. The throne needed an heir. Driftmark needed an heir. And a spare was needed as well, given the sheer rate of Targaryen children dying untimely deaths.

2. She had to provide heirs to the throne, and to Driftmark. If she hadn't, society wouldn't have blamed Laenor, they would have blamed her- which makes her position even more unstable, bc then she 'can't fulfill a woman's duty' so why would men think her 'able' to fill a 'man's role' by ruling the kingdom? And she and Laenor tried. He was either unable (meaning infertile or impotent, or unable to get it up), or unwilling. (And they did try. We dont know what they tried but Rhaenyra is shown to be clever in the show so honestly i have no doubt she attempted what Margaery suggested with Renly.) Laenor was in on the entire thing. He was aware of every part of this. He wasn't duped, he wasn't cuckholded- it was a plan greenlit by him, bc this way he and Rhaenyra would both have their heirs and a family. This cannot in any way shape or form be compared to Cersei cuckholding Robert (fuck Robert Baratheon tho), seeing as Robert was **not** at all aware that his children weren't his, and wouldn't have been OK with that.

Either way- she chose not to maritally r*pe her husband and put him through more trauma after it was clear their attempts weren't working. Yall are always so upset for Alicent (rightfully so, bc show!alicent was maritally raped, even if it wasn't considered as such in that time), but you... WANT Rhaenyra to do that to Laenor? Hello???

[And no. Rhaenyra did NOT rape or coerce Criston Cole. The actors, writers, and directors have all stated their sex was consensual and 'an act of love.' It was Rhaenyra going to someone she felt close to and trusted after feeling abandoned and unwanted and betrayed. In that scene you literally watch, as after Cole tells Rhaenyra to stop undressing herself, she moves aside so she isn't blocking his way to the door. The director states that the moment they show Cole folding and setting down his cloak was him choosing his desire over his oaths. And Criston Cole has known Rhaenyra since she was 14. He knew damn well the sort of person she was- and she was not the person who would have harmed him for saying no. She was an intoxicated and emotionally vulnerable 19 year old- Criston was in his late 20s to early 30s. And it's explicitly stated in ep.9 that the ONLY person a Kingsguard cannot refuse is the king. In ep.7 Criston disobeys a direct order from Alicent when she wants him to mutilate Lucerys. Criston Cole was not assaulted. Stop trying to assign Aegon's sins to Rhaenyra so that you can feel better for supporting him.]

3. In the books, the rumors of their bastardry at large halted when all of Rhaenyra's boys' cradle eggs hatched. The ONLY people who continued to try and raise issue were the core green faction. But the realm at large *did not give a fuck* why? Because every actually relevant party claimed those boys. Repeatedly and without flinching. Laenor claimed and loved those boys even face to face with Alicent's bullshit. Corlys claimed and love those boys- he was proud of them, and it's been stated by the actor in the show that Luke was his favorite- that given the... events of ep.10, Corlys will be out for blood. And Viserys repeatedly insisted upon their legitimacy- because Laenor and Corlys claimed them, because he knew that by forcing Rhaenyra to marry Laenor in order to repair the damage his insults caused House Velaryon, that he had backed her into a corner.

Rhaenyras boys are remembered to history as Velaryon. Even **Green supporters** noted that they were good, capable, intelligent, and **worthy** princes. That their deaths were unfortunate *for the realm.*

Legally, those boys are legitimate. They cannot be proven illegitimate without Laenor renouncing them, and he never did. Furthermore, trying to declare children illegitimate due to their appearance is a stupid, dangerous precedent. The fact that it's people who have no ties to House Velaryon pushing these rumors and pushing for disinheritance makes it even worse, because they're meddling in the succession of a House that *is not theirs.* if that became a standard, imagine the feuds and conflicts that would erupt- lords pushing for the children of rivals to be declared illegitimate all for the sake of trying to grasp and steal land, power, and influence as a norm? The realm would tear itself apart. Not to mention the sheer danger that would place women in, in Westeros.

Furthermore, even whilst usurping her, even while calling her children bastards, the Greens also imply Laenor's homosexuality was inherited by the Velaryon princes- that they would use Rhaenyra's 'promiscuity' and Laenor's 'predilections' to turn the Red Keep into a brothel- ironic, considering that's more what Aegon would've done. So even while claiming that Rhaenyras children are bastards that shouldn't inherit, they try to state that what the boys inherit or learn from Laenor makes them unfit for the throne. They can't keep their own damn story straight- because their usurpation was never about what is moral, what is right, or the greater good. It was about greed. Power. Sexism.

It doesn't matter what those boys looked like, especially seeing as Rhaenys had dark hair in the books. What matters is that Corlys and Laenor and Viserys claimed them and declared them legitimate, and that they **never** deviated from that.

As for Vaemond, he was a second son. And he waited until Corlys and Viserys were dying and too ill to stop him to make a grasp for power. Youre not supposed to look at that and feel hes in the right. Youre supposed to look at that and see a man consumed by greed, and literally trying to bury Corlys' will and intentions before the man is even in a grave. He was NEVER Corlys' heir- he just wanted power. It wasn't about his House, or their legacy, it was about him.

(And before yall start shit about Rhaenyras boys stealing Laena's girls' inheritance... Rhaena and Baela are *TARGARYEN*. Not Velaryon. Their claim was to the throne or to any holdings in Daemon's name. NOT to Driftmark.)

Rhaenyras boys being betrothed to Rhaena and Baela tied up any issue of 'Velaryon blood.' Baela would have been queen consort of the seven kingdoms at Jace's side, and they very clearly adored one another in book and show. Rhaena would have been Lady of the Tides- which she never would have had a chance for, without Rhaenyra (and Laena) making those betrothals. She and Luke were also canonically very close- and in show she's very encouraging of him whenever he looks nervous or uncertain. They had a bond.

Rhaenyra stole nothing. She gave those girls more. And she loved them- they were the only daughters she got to have, seeing as the Greens treachery caused the early death of baby Visenya. If she hadn't loved them, she wouldn't have trusted Rhaena to look after Joffrey or give her Morning's egg from Syrax. She wouldn't have immediately invited both girls to the table when she was queen, which is something her father did not do for her until much, much later. He allowed Rhaenyra's voice to be silenced too often when she was first made heir. Rhaenyra did not repeat that hurt to her girls or her boys.

Anyways, moving on.

You lot do also remember that Rhaenyra herself has Velaryon blood, right? Jaehaerys I's mother was Alyssa Velaryon. Aegon, Rhaenys, and Visenya the Conquerors' mother was Valaena Velaryon. It's not immediate, but there *is* Velaryon blood through *all* of Rhaenyras boys.

Ultimately, Rhaenyras boys were only in danger because of the core Green faction usurping the throne. If they hadnt- no succession crisis or rebellion could have truly threatened Rhaenyras boys- because none of them would have had dragons. All of Rhaenyras children loved one another- her sons by Daemon would not have turned on her sons with Laenor (and Harwin). They were a true, loving family- possibly one of the healthiest and most close knit one House Targaryen ever boasted.

And another thing... 'her having babies with Harwin was stupid, she should have picked someone Valyrian!'

Here's the thing. Rhaenyra had to be careful as hell choosing who would father her and Laenor's heirs. She had to choose someone who was physically close, and who could be trusted. Someone who wouldn't try to publicly claim those boys in boast or jealousy. Someone who would keep their mouth shut and had no ambition of their own in regards to the throne. Do you really think Vaemond Velaryon (as I see him suggested a lot) would've kept his mouth shut? That he wouldn't have tried to use this to blackmail Rhaenyra and Laenor for more power and status? Do you think Rhaenys would have ever fought for or supported Rhaenyra if Rhaenyra had tried to have Corlys sire her children? And flying to see Daemon in Pentos and having a purely Valyrian child 9 months later would have made things look even more suspect.

Furthermore... she chose someone who cared for her deeply. Who clearly had a positive relationship with Laenor. She chose someone so she wouldn't have to traumatize herself- she took power over her body in a way almost no Westerosi woman has ever been able to. They were a family unit- Rhaenyra, Laenor, and Harwin. Those children were loved and cherished by two fathers and their mother. They were raised never doubting their mothers love, nor their father's- either father. They were raised and educated to be true, good princes of the realm.

Rhaenyra fought like hell for her children. She was an incredible mother. Yall just believe everything the Green faction says without looking at it critically, and that's unfortunate as hell.

[pedrospatch]

what he didn’t do

Preoutbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

summary: You’re very recently divorced, but that doesn’t stop a certain handsome, brown-eyed neighbor from taking you out on a date.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. divorced reader, no massive age gap (no specific age is mentioned, but reader is in her early 30’s and Joel is 35) slow burn, 10 year crush kind of deal. reader talks about her past relationship. mentions of food and alcohol. soft, caring Joel. first date fluff.

word count: 5.1k

a/n: so um how are we all doing after today, we still alive out there? 👀 no one asked for this, this fic is purely self indulgent, my lonely single ass is convinced that pre out break Joel would be just the most amazing gentleman on a date, he would be so perfect and just take the best care of you and treat a girl right…so here is what i whipped up.

He’ll treat me right, put me first, be a man of his word

stay home ‘cause he wanted to

always fight for my love

hold on tight like it’s something that he can’t stand to lose

Joel wasn’t all too sure how it even happened.

Earlier that afternoon, he’d gone on over to your place to deliver a piece of mail that the postman had accidentally put in his mailbox instead of yours. While Joel was there, you’d kindly asked him if he could recommend a good plumber that you could call because you had a stubborn leak under the kitchen sink that you needed to get looked at sooner rather than later. Wanting to save you both the hassle and the expense of having to hire someone, Joel had told you to hang tight for a minute and rushed back over to his house, only to return with his yellow toolbox in hand so that he could fix it for you, which he’d done in fifteen minutes flat—and now, just a few hours later into the evening, he was getting himself ready to take you out to dinner. 

And the real fucking kicker of it all was that he had been the one to ask you out, proposing the offer while his head had been buried in the cabinet underneath your leaking kitchen sink. At least that way, if you had rejected him, you wouldn’t have been able to see the look of complete and utter embarrassment on his face. But much to Joel’s surprise, not to mention, his relief, you’d eagerly accepted the invitation and even suggested tonight would be the perfect night if he didn’t have prior plans or commitments.

Hell, even if Joel did have prior plans or commitments, he would have canceled them for you without a single ounce of hesitation.

He’d discovered he would do just about anything for you.

Joel shrugged into the light tan, button up shirt that Sarah had helped him pick out earlier just before he’d jumped in the shower. At thirteen, she lived with her nose buried in fashion magazines lately and she didn’t trust him to successfully choose a proper outfit for the occasion on his own without guidance. It had been well over a few years since Joel had been on a date, as she had so kindly pointed out to him while she’d rummaged around through his mess of a closet. Although he insisted that it wasn’t a date, his teenager had scoffed and called him out on his bullshit. “Well, what else do you do you call it when two single adults go out to dinner together alone?” Sarah had challenged him as she held up a couple of different shirts up against his chest, searching for the perfect one. “Especially when one of those two adults has had the most obvious crush on the other one for what, like ten freaking years now?”

“It wasn’t that obvious,” he’d muttered to her in response. Peering at her curiously, he couldn’t help himself as he had asked her, “Was it?”

“Dad, your crush on her has been about as subtle as a brick to the face.” Letting out a huge laugh, Sarah had shoved the shirt she’d selected into his hands and tossed the losers right back into his closet. “Here, wear this one with those dark jeans, the bootcut ones. Don’t roll up the sleeves like you always do. And for the love of all that is holy, at least make an attempt to run a comb through that hair of yours,” she’d advised on her way out the door, leaving him to it.

Joel sighed and buttoned up the shirt, then tugged on his dark blue jeans and a pair of black leather boots—the only pair he owned that weren’t totally worn down to the soles. He finished getting dressed and proceeded to roll up the long sleeves of his shirt up to the middle of his forearms, tucking in the cuffs as neatly as he could. He could already hear his daughter scolding him over it, but screw it, Joel wanted to be comfortable, especially now that warmer weather had arrived in Austin. 

After rubbing just the slightest hint of his favorite sandalwood cologne on his neck and on the insides of his wrists, Joel finally left his bedroom and made his way downstairs, trying his absolute hardest to pay no mind to the nerves that were threatening to creep up on him. He entered the living room where he found Tommy sitting on the couch with Sarah, a plastic blue bowl of popcorn nestled between the two of them. Sarah, who had been busy shuffling through a stack of movies in her lap, looked up when she heard him walk into the room and narrowed her green eyes at him. “Come on, man! What did I say earlier about the sleeves?”

“You told me not to roll ‘em up. But I chose not to listen to you,” Joel quipped, eliciting an annoyed sigh from her. 

Tommy smirked at him. “So motherfucker, you finally did it, huh? You finally asked her out on a date.” His smirk widened. “Only had to wait, what, about ten fuckin’ years?”

Joel glared at his younger brother. “How did you even—?” He stopped abruptly and his dark brown eyes flickered over to Sarah, who shot him a guilty smile from where she sat. “Really? You just had to tell him?”

“Sorry,” she apologized, sheepishly. “It slipped.”

“Damn, big brother. Y’know, word on the street is that she just signed the divorce papers at the courthouse earlier this week,” Tommy remarked, taking a swig from his bottle of Lone Star as he leaned back into the couch. “You’ve got some real big fuckin’ balls to ask a freshly divorced woman out on a date that quick. I’ve gotta admit that I’m actually pretty fuckin’ impressed with you, Joel. Didn’t think you’d have it in you.”

“It ain’t a date,” Joel muttered out the lie, picking up his keys from the coffee table. “We’re just goin’ out to dinner is all.”

“That’s a date,” Tommy and Sarah stated together in unison.

Joel let out a heavy sigh, deciding that it was better for him to ignore their antics rather than to play into them. “You.” He pointed an index finger at Sarah. “Might not be school night, but I don’t want you stayin’ up too late. And you.” He turned his attention to Tommy. “I don’t want you havin’ any of your little female friends over while I’m out tonight, especially not while Sarah is home. That understood?” 

“Yes dad,” both their voices chirped together once again. 

Rolling his eyes, Joel bid them a quick goodnight and left the house, making his way across the lawn and over to your place. You lived in the smaller, single story yellow house right next door to his.

You’d moved in next to Joel and Tommy several years ago—Sarah had still been a toddler then and he had just started getting used to life as a single father. Joel would never forget the first time that he laid his eyes on you. He had been in his driveway, taking a look under the hood of his old truck, a hunk of garbage Ford Ranger from the nineties that he’d finally gotten rid of a couple years back and replaced with a Chevrolet Silverado instead; it hadn’t been much of an upgrade, but at least it didn’t break down on him as often. Joel had noticed a moving van in the driveway of the house next door, but he hadn’t given it a second thought. He had been so engrossed in what he’d been doing, but at some point, he looked up from the engine and turned his head at the precise moment that you happened to walk by with a cardboard box in your arms. You’d caught his gaze and offered him what had to be the most beautiful smile he had ever seen in his entire fucking life. Joel had just set his wrench down and was about to head over to offer you some help when a man emerged from the back of the moving van with another box. He gave you a quick kiss on the cheek as he led the way into the house. 

Turns out, that man had been your husband.

To say Joel had been sorely disappointed by the fact that you were married had been an understatement to say the least.

It hadn’t taken all too long before Joel met his new neighbors, although he often saw more of you than he ever saw your husband—the man traveled across the country for business and he would be gone for several days, even several weeks at a time. You were a homemaker and to help make life a little less mundane, you’d started something of a daycare in your home, offering to help fellow neighbors who needed someone to watch their younger children during their nine to five work schedules.

When Joel found himself putting in a brutal number of hours in at his construction job, he had struggled to find someone who was willing to look after his then three year old for such extended periods of time. You’d happily volunteered to help him out and you would watch Sarah from sunrise to about sundown for him without a problem. When she started kindergarten two years later, you continued to help Joel out, going as far as taking her to school for him and then picking her up afterwards. You’d never had any children of your own, but you still had maternal instincts, and as Sarah grew up, whenever she would need a woman’s guidance, she would go straight to you without hesitation and you were always there for her no matter what, no questions asked. 

Joel couldn’t have been more grateful for you.

He’d seen and spoken to you just about every day for the last decade—he’d even go as far as saying that the two of you were good friends, though since day one, he found himself longing for a hell of a lot more than just your friendship. Joel had thought he would have to shove his true feelings for you down for the rest of his natural born life, that is, until several months ago when he’d noticed the moving truck parked in your driveway one late afternoon as he and Sarah came home from one of her soccer games. Nearly in tears, Sarah had immediately hopped out of the pickup before Joel could even cut the engine and ran over, demanding to know why you hadn’t told her that you were moving—that’s when you fessed up and explained to her that you weren’t going anywhere, but your husband was.

Through whispers in the neighborhood, Joel discovered that you had filed for divorce and although no one knew the exact reason why, many suspected it had been your husband’s constant traveling for work that had done it. Denise, the nosy blonde woman who lived across the street from him swore up and down that he must have had some kind of adulterous affair behind your back—Joel simply told her she needed to lay off her dramatic daytime soap operas. 

Regardless of the reason why, you were now officially single.

And Joel was taking you out to dinner.

Whether it was an actual date or not, that hadn’t exactly been established. 

He made it up the front porch and inhaled a deep breath, exhaling it slowly through his nose before he knocked on your front door. When you opened it just a few seconds later, all of the wind had been knocked out of his lungs by an invisible force.

You wore a sky blue sundress with a sweet, white floral pattern printed all over it. Thin straps tied together at your shoulders and the hem of the skirt fell right to the middle of your thighs revealing a lot more of your silky smooth legs than he had ever seen before. You’d kept your makeup fairly light, and your hair fell loosely and naturally around your shoulders. Joel noticed you wearing a silver necklace, a butterfly pendant hanging from the chain. He recognized it, because he’d bought it for you, although it was Sarah who had gotten all the credit. She had given it to you as a gift for your birthday that passed by a few months ago. 

“Hey!” You beamed at him. “You’re right on time.”

“Hey.” Joel swallowed dryly. “You look really beautiful.”

You smiled shyly. “Thank you. You don’t look so bad yourself,” You returned the compliment, admiring the way the sleeves of his shirt hugged his biceps. “I have to hand it to you, you definitely clean up well, Joel.”

“Next time that you see Sarah, you’d best thank her. She deserves the credit,” he stated, eliciting a small laugh from you. “Are you all ready to go?”

You nodded, grabbing your purse and keys from the small glass table beside the door. You stepped out onto the porch, closing the door behind you; after making sure that you’d locked it properly, you followed Joel across your front lawn and over towards his driveway. He led you to the passenger’s side of his dark blue Silverado and opened the door for you, holding his hand out to help you climb up into the seat. The gesture prompted you to shoot him a strange look.

He frowned a little. “What’s the matter?” 

“No, nothing,” You quickly assured him. You placed your hand in his larger one, the contact causing a jolt of electricity to shoot up the length of your spine. 

Joel helped you up into the truck and closed the door before making his way around the front of the vehicle and climbing into the driver’s seat. He shoved the key into the ignition and the pickup roared to life. He watched as you put on your seatbelt and then reached out, giving it a tug to make sure you were buckled in well enough. “Just makin’ sure you’re safe is all,” he uttered softly as you tossed him another puzzled glance. He reached over his shoulder for his own seatbelt and buckled it in before finally pulling out of the driveway. 

Out of his peripheral vision, Joel could see you wringing your hands together in your lap in something of an anxious manner—were you nervous?

In an effort to comfort you and ease the nerves, Joel reached out and turned up the volume of the radio. He normally kept it on his favorite country station and was just about to ask what station you preferred when you let out a tiny, excited gasp and turned to him, a radiant smile breaking out onto your face. 

“Oh, I love this song!” You told him, bringing your hands together in an enthusiastic clap. You then started singing along to the familiar lyrics. “Heads Carolina, tails California, somewhere greener, somewhere warmer, up in the mountains, down by the ocean—”

Joel turned briefly, raising an eyebrow at you. “Nineties country fan, huh?”

“Duh,” You replied playfully. “Nineties were and will probably always be the golden age of country.”

He grinned, turning his attention back onto the road. “I knew there was a reason I liked you.”

Biting back another smile at his words, you turned to look out of the window, nodding your head and tapping your foot along to the beat of the song as you watched the streets of Austin pass by in a blur of lights and people. 

Joel had chosen to take you to Antonio’s, a locally owned Italian place that was somewhere between casual and upscale dining. “Wait,” he told you, noticing you reaching for the door handle as soon as he’d parked in front of the restaurant. He jumped out of the driver’s seat and walked around, opening the door for you. Just like when he’d helped you into the truck back at his house, he offered you a hand to help you out of it. He kept his dark brown eyes on your feet, making sure you that didn’t fall or lose one of the brown sandals you were wearing. “Careful.”

“Thank you,” You said kindly to him as he closed the door behind you. Your breath hitched in your throat when you felt him place his hand on the small of your back as he ushered you inside of the restaurant where a hostess led you to a small, round table out in the back patio. You thanked her and reached for your chair, but Joel instantly stopped you.

“Let me,” he insisted, pulling it out for you. He helped you into the chair and noticed you give him another strange look, similar to the ones you’d given him when he’d helped you into the truck and when he’d checked your seatbelt. “Why do you keep lookin’ at me like that? Do I have somethin’ on my face or what?” He asked jokingly as he took his seat across from you. 

You hesitated, but then confessed, “I’ve never had someone pull my chair out for me. I’ve never had someone open the car door for me or make sure I’m wearing my seatbelt.” You offered him a small, sheepish smile. “You don’t know how nice that is, Joel.”

Joel stared at you in complete disbelief.

Before he could say anything, a younger waitress appeared at the table to take yours and his orders for beverages. “I’ll just have a cabernet, please,” You ordered, politely. Not wanting to be the asshole who ordered a beer at an Italian place, Joel asked her for a glass of red wine too. She returned moments later with the drinks and then offered to take your orders for food. Both you and Joel decided on a chicken penne pasta dish that looked absolutely delicious. As soon as the waitress took your menus and disappeared back inside, you looked up at Joel and noticed his eyes were fixed intently on you. You felt a slight heat flood your face. “What is it?”

“Nothin’,” he answered, shrugging his shoulders innocently. “You just look really beautiful, that’s all.”

“You said that already,” You reminded him, letting out a breathless little laugh.

“I know.” Joel picked up his glass of wine. He took a quick sip before adding, “But someone as pretty as you deserves to hear it over and over again.”

The night went by fast, much too fast.

One minute, you were both enjoying your dinner and digging into delicious pasta, and the next, the table had been cleared completely, and so had all the other tables surrounding you—you two were the very last patrons in the restaurant. You and Joel had been so lost in conversation that neither of you had realized it was almost eleven and the restaurant was about to close in five minutes. 

“We’ve been sitting here talking for three hours,” You gasped lightly.

Joel chuckled. “Time flies when you’re in great company.”

You looked the bill on the table, which the waitress had dropped off over an hour ago, and reached for it, but Joel was quick to snatch it away from you. 

You pinned him with a stern look. “Come on, Joel! You fixed my kitchen sink for free, paying for dinner is the least I could do—”

“A lady never pays on a date.”

Your lips parted slightly in pleasant surprise. “Oh. So this is a date?”

Joel laughed as dug his brown leather wallet out from the pocket of his jeans. “I mean, it doesn’t have to be a date if you don’t want it to be. But I still ain’t lettin’ you pay.”

“I do.” You told him softly after a minute. “I do want it to be a date,”

Joel’s eyes met yours across the table and he smiled, looking relieved. “Good. ‘Cause I would’ve been kinda crushed if you’d said otherwise.”

He dropped a couple of twenty dollar bills on the table and stood up. He noticed you about to do the same when he shot you a warning glare.

“Oh. Right.” You giggled and waited until he stood up and held his hand out to you, helping you out of your chair.

As the two made your way out of the restaurant and out to his truck, Joel didn’t let your hand go.

“Thank you again for inviting me out to dinner tonight,” You said sweetly as Joel walked you up the porch steps to your front door. You rummaged through your purse and pulled out your house keys, pausing for a brief moment as you peered shyly up at him through your eyelashes. “Would you like to come in for a drink?”

Joel’s heart skipped an anxious, but eager beat. “I think I’d really like that.”

You turned back to your door and your hand trembled slightly as you jammed the key into the keyhole to unlock it and judging by the way Joel let out a soft chuckle beside you, you were certain that he’d noticed it. You pushed the door open, closing it behind you once the two of you had slipped inside. Setting your purse and keys down, you gestured for him to follow you into your living room where you nodded for him to have a seat on the dark blue velvet couch before you walked towards the kitchen. “What’s your poison?” You called out to him over your shoulder as you began rummaging around in your cabinets for two glasses. 

“I’m partial to scotch,” he called back. He then added, “If you’ve got it, of course”

“How do you take it?”

“Neat’s just fine.”

You giggled as you prepared a glass of scotch for him and a glass of red wine for yourself. “Oh you’re just so classy, aren’t you Miller?” Before anything, you did a quick mirror check in the stainless steel toaster on the kitchen counter, making sure that not a single hair was out of place. You then took a deep breath, picked up the glasses, and walked back out into the living room. Handing Joel his glass, you took a seat beside him on the couch; you sat close to him, so close that his arm was pressed against yours. Somehow that wasn’t even remotely close enough. You wanted to be closer and hoped he felt the same. 

“By the way, thank you again for fixing the sink for me,” You told him after taking a sip of your wine. “You probably saved me a couple hundred bucks.”

“Oh, it’s nothin’ really,” Joel reassured you. He nudged your arm. “If you ever need me to take a look at anythin’ around the house, please don’t hesitate to call me. I don’t want you reachin’ out to plumblers and electricians, those crooks will see a sweet little lady like yourself and see nothin’ but fuckin’ dollar signs. I don’t want anyone takin’ advantage of you, so when you’ve got a problem, you call me first alright?”

You gazed down into the burgundy depths of your glass, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “I really appreciate that, Joel.” You brought yourself to look up at him, admitting, “Now that I’m living alone, it worries me. Having to take care of this house all by myself.” 

Joel gripped his glass tightly, a hesitant expression on his face. “Can I ask you somethin’?”

“Of course.”

“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. And if it offends you in any way, you’re more than welcome to just give me a good kick in the—”

“Joel!” You rolled your eyes, shaking your head at him. “Just ask me the damn question already.”

“What happened between you two?”

The smile on your face faded away, but you didn’t seem upset at him. “Well, what all have you heard?”

Taking a sip of his scotch, Joel shrugged. “Couple of rumors here and there, but I ain’t the type to believe in gossip. Would rather hear the truth from the source.”

“What did Mrs. Adler have to say about it?”

He snorted into his glass. “That you two probably could have saved your marriage had you just gone to church.”

You couldn’t help but laugh—Mrs. Adler was nice enough, but that woman could really be something else. She was always telling people they had to get right with Jesus. 

“So?” Joel prompted you. “What did he do?”

You sighed and turned your body slightly, angling it towards his. “He did quite a bit. Put me through hell, to be honest with you. But you know, I’m not the type to air someone’s dirty laundry. So, I’m not going to tell you what he did.” You paused, your fingers lightly tapping the sides of your glass. “But I’ll tell you what he didn’t do.”

Joel nodded silently, but in understanding.

“He didn’t treat me right. He didn’t treat me the way I deserved. He never wanted to spend time with me. He never wanted to be home with me, which is all I ever wanted from him. He’d travel so much for work, and when he would finally come back after being away, I would be so excited to just be with him.” You scoffed bitterly at the thought of it. “The minute he landed, he would drop his luggage off and head straight to some bar with his buddies. All I’d want is for him to just stay in with me for a night, watch a movie with me, talk with me because I missed him so much while he was gone. But he never chose me. He would never put me first, no matter how many times I asked.” You shrugged and leaned over, setting your glass of wine down on the wooden coffee table before leaning back into the couch. “It probably sounds really stupid but—”

Joel placed a hand on your bare knee, causing your flesh to erupt in goosebumps. “It doesn’t sound stupid at all.”

Finding a bit of courage, you placed your hand on top of his and continued on, “He never made me feel like I was someone worth fighting for, you know? Like my love was something worth fighting for. He made me feel like nothing, Joel. It got to the point where sometimes I believed it—I felt like I was nothing.”

Joel gave your knee a gentle squeeze. “I sure as hell hope you don’t feel that way now,” he said, his lips tugging down into a frown. “Because you’re fuckin’ everythin’.”

Your eyes flickered up to meet his and you had to silently remind yourself to breathe.

Leaning over, Joel set his glass down on the coffee table right beside yours. He turned to you and lifted his hand, touching the side of your face, his thumb delicately sweeping over the silky skin of your cheek. “A woman like you deserves the world and nothin’ less. You know that, don’t you?”

“Joel?” You whispered out his name, your heart racing in your chest at a rate that you were certain had to be much too fast for the human body to withstand. 

“Yeah?”

“Can you please kiss me?”

Joel’s hand cradled your face gingerly as he obliged, leaning in so his lips could meet yours in the kiss that he’s been aching to give you for the last yen years. He was gentle and he was sweet with it, but after a minute, he found himself lightly nipping at your bottom lip with his teeth, silently asking permission for more. He felt your lips part slightly against his and he eagerly deepened the embrace, his hand moving to the back of your head while his other found your bare knee again.

Another wave of courage washed over you and you placed your two hands on his chest, pushing him back against the soft, velvet fabric of your couch. You swung a leg over both of his and straddled his lap, your hands now clutching fistfuls of his shirt. 

Joel’s own hands went to your hips and he groaned into your kiss.

You pulled away from him, the tip of your nose lightly touching his as the two of you struggled to catch a breath.

“Let me be the one to treat you the way you deserve,” he murmured after a minute, lifting one of his hands to brush your hair back behind your shoulder; his fingertips lightly brushed against the strap of your dress, and it took every ounce of strength he had in him not to pull it down your arm. “Just give me the chance and I’ll hang the moon for you, darlin’—hell, for you I’ll hang the entire fuckin’ galaxy.”

Your heart swelling at his words, you grinned just before pressing your mouth to his once again. 

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Joel chuckled with a smile against your lips.

You clung to him with fervor, kissing him with a passion that had the both of you seeing stars. Your hands were everywhere, touching, feeling anything part of him you could, eliciting another groan from him as you started grinding down into his lap. Your fingers went to the buttons of his shirt, desperate to feel more. 

“Whoa, whoa.” Joel caught both your hands in his and let out a breathless laugh. “Hey. Slow down, sweetheart.”

You looked at him with wide eyes. “Oh I’m sorry, I-I thought you wanted—"

“Oh I do want it, trust me. Pretty sure you can feel how much I want it.” Joel chuckled again, knowing damn good and well that you could feel how hard he’d become for you as you sat in his lap. His hands toyed with the hem of your sundress. “Seein’ you in this dress all night, trust me I want nothin’ more than to have you right here, right now. But I like you way too fuckin’ much to risk messin’ this up by movin’ too fast.”

You pouted at him. 

“Oh c’mon darlin’ put that lip away.” Joel lifted his hand, taking your chin between his thumb and index finger. “All I’m sayin’ is that we ain’t gotta rush this. Trust me, you’ve got me hooked already and I don’t plan on goin’ anywhere, alright?”

You almost groaned out in frustration.

He just had to be a fucking gentleman when it came to sex, too.

You sighed in defeat, resting your hands lightly on his chest. “Fine,” You relented with a tiny eye roll, causing him to grin in amusement. You playfully poked his sternum. “But if you don’t fuck me senseless by the third date, we’re going have a problem, Miller.”

Joel groaned, feeling himself grow even harder at the way such a filthy statement had come out of a woman with the face of an angel. “Keep talkin’ like that and you’re goin’ to make it impossible for me to wait that long.”

“Maybe that’s the goal,” You winked at him.

“Just stop talkin’ and c’mere.” He pulled you forward, fusing your mouth to his once again.

[warblogs17282]

Another argument I don't understand from the helluva boss 'critical' crowd is the 'they're uwufying/coddling Stolas' argument.

I've most likely covered this in the 'both sides fucked up' post I've made before but I want to challenge the claim more head on this time.

Like Stolas is a character with multiple flaws that he needs to work on and has been brought to the forefront quite a bit, a few examples of these are the alcoholism (rehab has been stated to exist in hell twice now, so that's most likely gonna become a plot point at some point in the show), the subconscious racism/classism (the harvest moon festival is a major example of that), we know Blitz is in the right when he calls Stolas out for it in apology tour in the first few minutes of the episode because that's literally the point, how is Stolas supposed to just magically undo 25 years of the learned racism/classism starting from as early as we know, 10 years old, that shit takes time, Stolas is not at that point where he's self aware enough to realise how much he hurt Blitz with those behaviours, with the self aware part being stated in the description of the apology tour video. They explicitly brought attention to Stolas' flaws regarding the racism/classism thing so it'd be shit writing for Vivzie to not bring it attention again in the near future, they've established it as a flaw Stolas has so he's gonna have to learn to undo that during the show.

Also, in the trailer there's a line that very much tells us that Stolas is gonna have to face and learn from his problems face on. 'You never loved mother, and you don't love me, you love him.' The wording on it makes it very clear it's being spoken to Stolas, and as much as Stolas tries to give Octavia a normal life as Stolas loves Octavia so much, it just gave Octavia all the reason to believe that Stolas never loved Stella and her, because all Octavia knows up at this point is that Stolas cheated on Stella with a to her, random imp, which in her viewpoint, would confirm that the love was never there for Stella and her, leading to her villainising Stolas because of it. Octavia knows none of the abuse Stella inflicted upon Stolas. Plus, as much as Stolas tries to be an active part of Octavia's life as a father, he still fails at it. The main proof of this being in seeing stars, the phone call where Stolas was getting really intense arguing with Stella, pushing Octavia to the sideline as a result. 'Why does he hate her more than he loves me.' This scene just shows truly how Octavia feels about Stolas right now, and it plays in perfectly to the line in the trailer, so while that scene does show Octavia that Stolas does care about him, she still doesn't really sense much of the love Stolas has for Octavia, with most of it in Octavia's prespective getting replaced by Stolas being forgetful about her needs and such, instead getting caught up in his own problems too much to tend to Octavia's needs, which deeply hurts Octavia inside. Just like Loona said, Stolas just messes up, Octavia can't really see that a whole lot yet however. 'You know I haven't taught you spells like this yet.' This line just really shows that Stolas keeps getting caught up in his own things that again, Octavia's needs get put on the sideline or just forgotten about until it's too late, which hurts her deeply. It shows that the things that Octavia should've been taught at that point hasn't been taught to her yet for that reason, the arrangement with Blitz and the messy divorce to be specific.

These two reasons are proof that the argument that they're gonna keep coddling Stolas and that he's not gonna learn from his character flaws and just stay the same way he is currently, is entirely bullshit.

I wrote much more about that than I expected, man I take helluva boss much more seriously than I thought, guess it just resonates with me.

For anyone seeing this now, Vivzie just basically confirmed that Stolas' flaws will be addressed

'Everything we are noticing about the plot that hasn’t been addressed, will be. Just BE PATIENT'

[faestolemythoughts]

More Stardew hcs 🌸💚

Sam/Seb

Slight TW, boys smokin the devils lettuce

-Sam has a tendency to fall asleep literally anywhere. Wether it’s on the floor, outside somehow, or most often.. Seb’s bed.

When I say Seb’s bed though, it’s hardly ever in a normal position. He usually falls asleep mid-game, slumping against the wall or hanging halfway off or (Seb’s absolute favorite) sprawled out across the entire already small bed.

Sebastian never notices until it’s too late. He’s always too focused in whatever video game they’re playing, only looking over when Sam stops replying to whatever he’s saying. Every time it happens he wants to be mad, he really does. He just can’t seem to be irritated when Sam looks like that when he sleeps. He’d die before he ever told Sam that he looks pretty when he sleeps.

It’s always a chore to shove Sam (the heaviest sleeper sebs ever fucking seen) aside so he can lay in his own bed.

They’d both be lying if they said they never ended up against each other.. because it’s warm of course.

Let’s just say Abby’s found them like that countless times. She has the pictures to prove it.

-The first time Sam wants to try smoking with Seb (not cigarettes 🍃) Is after a particularly bad day with his family. They’re around 17-18. Senior year. Kent keeps getting on him about college and other bullshit he wants no part in. His mom won’t stop agreeing with him. He’s sick of it. He needs.. well, weed.

Barging into Sebs room eyes immediately on the dark blue glass piece, Seb can tell something’s wrong.

“I need you to give me that.” Sam huffs. Motioning at the bong.

Sebastian almost laughs. He would’ve if it weren’t for the look on Sam’s face that’s really telling him he really does need to unwind.

“You sure? Don’t wanna talk?”

“Just- pack it or whatever it’s called.”

Sebastian hastily does what he’s told. He’s fighting himself and definitely feels like a horrible influence right now. But Sam’s a grown man and can make his own choices, so he hands the bong to Sam, tucking the bowl pack in his pocket.

they make their way up to the top of the hill, veering right of the spa near the train tunnels, knowing damn well they can’t do this anywhere near the house. As they make the 10 minute or so walk, Sam finally starts talking.

“I really wish my mom would be on my side one time.”

Seb motions for Sam to take the bong out of his jacket where it had been conveniently hidden from anyone’s sight.

“Want me to show you how?”

“I fucking know how.”

Eyebrows raised Seb just sets in the bowl piece and tosses Sam the lighter.

“Okay.”

Sam definitely doesn’t know how. His first try he doesn’t put his mouth right against the glass, not creating a suction therefore getting no smoke. A very familiar bitch face from Seb is accompanied with a tsk noise and an eye roll.

“Let me show you before you waste all my weed.” Seb reaches a hand out, grabbing the glass while still in Sam’s hands, guiding it closer to his mouth. “Put it all the way against your face so air can’t get in.”

He takes the lighter from Sam’s hands, suddenly acutely aware of the fact that their hands are overlapping. He keeps it there though.

“I’m gonna light it for you, you ready?”

Sam nods, making eye contact, a sliver of nervousness and.. something else Seb can’t quite make out on his face. Sebastian flicks the lighter and Sam seemingly knows to start to breathe in. He lets the glass fill up about half way with smoke, then takes the metal piece out, letting Sam breathe it in.

He thinks the kid is just about going to die with how hard he coughs. He lets himself laugh this time, smacking him on the back telling him the burning will pass.

“Fuck- how do you- do that so often?” Sam manages between coughs.

“You get used to it. Promise. Tell me if you don’t feel right. We can go home.”

“I don’t really.. feel anything. When does it like kick in?” He clears his throat, which now feels a little strange.

“Give it a second.” Seb mumbles.

Upon realizing he hadn’t gotten a hit of his own, Sebastian takes the bong from Sam’s hands, taking a long hit of his own, puffing the smoke. Sam watches as the smoke fades away all around them, feeling different than before.

He watches as Sebastian’s face relaxes, a little jealous that it seems to have a sudden affect on him.

“Can I have another one?” He asks.

“Jesus, Sammy. Thought you’d be a lightweight.” Sebastian hands him the bong again. “One more. After that wait a few minutes.”

Sebastian lights it again for him, making sure he doesn’t get way too much smoke. Sam coughs for another minute again.

Sebastian takes another hit himself, gently setting the glass on a flat piece of earth where he hopes it won’t tip.

They sit in silence for a while after that. Just watching the lights of the valley flicker on as the sunlight starts to fade. He almost thinks Sam might be immune to marijuana until he hears little giggles coming from beside him.

“You ever notice how when Kent gets mad that little vein in his neck really pops out.” Sam laughs.

Sebastian can’t help but laugh out loud. Fuck his neck vein really does pop out. Sam is definitely high.

“You feeling good there buddy?” Seb asks, which just makes them both crack right up again.

“I can’t believe you hid this from me this entire time.” Sam huffs, faking dramatics.

“You could’ve just asked, dipshit.”

“I think I might love weed.”

Sebastian makes the critical mistake of looking over at Sam who looks.. so fucking pretty. His puffy red eyes, his slightly strewn hair and his dopey little smile.

Fuck. This is not good. Weed isn’t supposed to make your best friends lips look so.. interesting.. yeah that’s the right word, interesting. Seb rips his eyes from sam, staring at the grass blade he’s picking at.

“You should bring me up here more. The stars are so much brighter than in town.”

God. This kid might actually be the death of Sebastian.

Sam lays back on the cool grass that’s now a little bit damp, but he doesn’t seem to care. He’ll be itchy later but it’s well worth the feeling he has right now. His legs feel like bubbles and he just wants to laugh. Whatever bullshit he was mad over just seems funny now. And god the stars are so damn bright. What if he could just touch them. They look like they’d feel fuzzy… he feels fuzzy.

He turns his head to the right, starting up at Sebastian who’s resting his head on his propped up knee. For some reason he wants to reach out and touch Sebastian, too. His hair looks like it feels so soft. Seb catches him starting but Sam can’t bring himself to feel embarrassed.

Sam really wishes he could put a word to what this feels like and why really really wants to be closer to him. Maybe it’s just the weed, though. Definitely just the weed.

[needyfreek2]

Prom Blows (Repost)

It was past 10 when Luna pulled up in front of the school she’d already graduated from. If it wasn’t for her absolute wreck of a senior sister, one would think of her as some sort of creepy college girl coming to the high school to pick up underage boys.

Roxy had called her, over an hour ago, begging her to take her home. After her date ghosted, her friends ditched, and she spilled spiked punch all over herself, Roxy had sobbed to Luna over the phone. So like the “Good Sister” she was, Luna came to her rescue.

“I’ve been waiting outside for a fucking hour where have you been?” Roxy hid her tears behind a veil of aggression.

“Sorry, sorry. I was busy.”

“With what? You don’t have a life.” Roxy retorted. She wasn’t fully wrong. Ever since Luna went off to college, she hadn’t done much aside from going to class in the morning, doing homework when she got back, and sleeping. Even on weekends, Luna was more likely to go study at the library rather than do anything fun. It was the first time in years that Roxy was well and truly alone at home. Their mom was usually working late at the hospital, and their dad didn’t even bother to write letters anymore. Roxy had a couple of friends, and the pretty privilege to get asked out every so often, but it never felt as fulfilling as her relationship with Luna. At least, that’s how it was. 

Luna had started college this year. Too poor to get into one of the nicer schools she wanted to, she had to settle for community college and living at home. It was nice to have a free place to stay, but it was starting to get tiring in sophomore year of high school. This town has a way of wearing down the people who get stuck here.

“I’ve got an essay due tomorrow.” That’s all she ever talked about. Schoolwork.

Roxy didn’t respond, she just looked out the window and tried her best to hold back her tears.

“So, what happened?” Luna was the first to break the silence.

“My date didn’t show up, he was off fucking one of my friends in the bathroom. Then my friends ditched me. Fucking whores.”

“Roxy…” Luna sighed.

”They are! Don’t take their side dipshit-”

“No, I'm just sorry. That blows.” 

Roxy blinked a couple times, taken aback at her sister’s sudden approval. She half expected her to call it “Teen Girl Bullshit” and move on but not this time.

“Yeah, I- It sucks.” Roxy leaned back to get comfortable. “I got all dressed up and pretty for him…” She fidgeted with her tight, deep red velvet dress. It was a beautiful dress, form fitting, a perfect color for Roxy. When Luna glanced over, she couldn’t help that his eyes wandered to her prominent cleavage. In most outfits she wore, Roxy’s chest seemed much smaller. She wasn’t modest by any means, but she clearly put in the work to draw attention to where she wanted. It even worked on her sister. Luna’s eyes flashed back to the road. She knew how gross it was to think of her own sister in that way, to objectify her like that. 

But she couldn’t help it. Roxy was beautiful. Long black hair that poured down her back like a dark cascade, a back now exposed by the dress. Silky smooth, pale skin, perfectly slender and clean. The way her body curved, her hips, thighs, chest, almost like a doll with how precise it was. Luna hated that time and time again, she found herself staring, whenever Roxy wasn’t looking. When Luna would be on her laptop in the kitchen and Roxy would come in for a snack, bending over to get something from the lower sections of the fridge. The way her shorts would ride up, exposing the slightest bit of Roxy’s panties underneath… Or when they watched a movie together, Roxy would lay her legs over Luna’s and she could barely focus on what was happening on the screen. 

The worst part is that she wondered if she did it on purpose. Just to get a rise out of her.

Gross. Don’t think like that.

“So what now?” Luna asked quietly.

“I don’t know… I kind of just want to get out of this dress.”

“You don’t want to stop for ice cream first?” Luna smiled at her sister. Roxy just shook her head and watched the cars go by. Luna sighed. “I think you look very pretty, Roxy.”

Roxy turned to her.

“You do?” She asked, pleading for reassurance.

“Yeah… It’s a nice dress.”

“So you think the dress is pretty. Not me.” Roxy rolled her eyes.

“No, I think you’re pretty. The dress just… uh- helps.” Luna had a hard time concealing her blush. Disgusting that she would get that way over her own sister.

“You’re just saying that because you’re my sister.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re just trying to make me feel better, you don’t actually think I'm pretty.” Roxy sunk deeper into the seat.

“No, I really-“ Luna stopped herself. “You’re the most beautiful girl I know, Roxy. And if the people at your school don’t see that they’re dumbasses, ok?” Roxy looked out the window again. “I really mean it, Rox. Anyone would be lucky to be with you. You’re smart, witty, you have good taste, you’re the nicest person at that shit show of a school. You’re hot- uh- from a like- from an unbiased perspective I mean.” Luna covered her mouth in a vain attempt to conceal her blush. “Look, I just mean that you’re… you’re so much better than all of them. They don’t deserve you.”

Roxy still didn’t look back. 

Luna brought the car to the side of the road by an old park the two used to play at. It was empty, that late at night. A place that once brought the two so much joy, now a reminder of their distance. 

“Why are we-“ Roxy was cut off by Luna’s hand, taking her arm.

“Roxy…” Her grip was soft, reassuring more than anything else. Roxy finally looked back. “I need you to know that you are the most amazing, beautiful, incredible girl I have ever met. Anyone, and I mean anyone, would be lucky to have a go out with you. They blew their shot, don’t get hung up on them. Ok?” Then that smile, that stupid beautiful smile of hers. Roxy couldn’t stand that look, when Luna was so close to tears, and yet looked so loving and… pretty, damn it. 

And that’s the point where Roxy decided to go for it.

“Fine… you’re right. But I still didn’t get kissed… or laid. And fuck i was really banking on getting laid tonight.” 

Luna blushed a bit, but laughed the comment off, saying something incredibly stupid as she did. 

“I’d kiss you, if I weren’t your sister.” Luna joked, sort of… 

“You’d kiss me?”

Luna panicked, she hadn’t realized she said that out loud. “Oh! I just mean that- I mean- It’s not-“ Luna realized just how fucked she was, hoping that the little bit of alcohol in Roxy’s system would allow her to forget the massive fucking blunder Luna had made. “We should get going!” Luna went to take the car out of park but was surprised to find Roxy’s hand placed gently on hers.

“W-Wait… Please.” Roxy gave a pleading look to Luna that made her hesitate. “You… you would kiss me? Even when I’m this much of a mess?”

“I mean- I- Roxy I’m your sister it’s not like-“ Luna tried to save herself, but Roxy wasn’t content to let her go so easily. 

“You mean you don’t want to?” Roxy asked, red in the face.

Luna paused. Fuck.

“I don’t- we can’t. We’re sisters… I wouldn’t- I would never even think about-“

“What if I wanted you to?” Roxy’s hand had traveled to her sister’s shoulder now. Luna could hardly think, much less string together words to make a coherent sentence. “It wouldn’t mean anything, but… Would it really be so bad? Just one?”

Luna realized she wasn’t breathing.

“Wait, you’re being serious?” Luna muttered, Roxy nodded. 

“Just… don’t make a weird thing out of it ok? It’s just a kiss.” 

Luna checked to make sure no one was around, thank god for that. Taking a deep breath, Luna turned back to her sister.

“So…” Luna tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and pushed up her glasses. Her hands were shaking. Roxy noticed, and took her sister’s hands in her own.

“It’s OK, Luna… don’t be so nervous. I’m your sister, I won’t judge.” She gave her such a sweet smile. With that last bit of encouragement, Luna nodded and leaned toward Roxy ever so slightly. Roxy caught her breath and moved in. For a while the two were too nervous to breach the gap, a comfortable distance kept between their lips. Then, with sudden eagerness and impatience, Roxy shot forward and locked lips with Luna. The suddenness of the kiss caused Luna to inhale sharply and jump in her seat. 

The kiss itself was amazing, the best either had ever experienced. Luna’s face was warm, blushing so hard her glasses could have fogged up. Roxy moved her hands to her sister’s red face, holding her tightly. Absent-mindedly, Luna started to slip her tongue into Roxy’s mouth, a gesture she was more than happy to reciprocate. Without realizing it, Roxy’s hand fell to Luna’s thigh, and inched closer to her crotch until-

“Oh-!” Roxy pulled away. Luna blinked twice, recollecting her thoughts before turning away, abashedly covering her face with one hand and her crotch with the other.

“Fuck, i- im so sorry- i don’t know what happened.” Luna did her best to conceal the very obvious erection trying to escape her jeans. “I haven’t been able to- and yknow i’m just- Fuck, sorry!” 

“No no- it’s ok Luna… Really. I take it, you liked that?” Roxy was blushing just as much, if not harder than Luna.

Luna didn’t respond.

“Luna?”

“I’m sorry. I’m so gross.” Luna hid her face in her hands.

“What? No, it’s ok. Really!” Roxy leaned back in and caressed her sister’s arm. “I get it, you’re excited. I- I am too.” 

“Excited?” Luna removed her hands from her face.

“Yeah I mean, I assume that’s what that means.”

“No no, you’re excited?” A million terrible thoughts went through Luna’s mind.

“Well…” Roxy turned toward the window, blushing. “You’re not the only one who’s been… pent up.” She cleared her throat. “I’m- I’m a little wet right now… Well, more than a little.”

The sisters stared at each other in silence for what felt like ages. 

“I know…. it’s gross isn’t it?” Roxy tried to laugh it off.

“No! Not at all!” Luna grabbed Roxy’s shoulders. “Uh- Well I guess it sort of is… I mean we’re sisters and all, but-“

“But…?” Roxy placed her hand onto Luna’s as it held tight to her shoulder. 

“Uh- People get like this all the time? It’s fine, we’ll take care of it when we get home.”

“We!?” Roxy was both excited and mortified.

“I mean seperately! In separate rooms! Touching ourselves- not- fuck.” Luna tried desperately to hide her fucked up desires in this moment. Roxy didn’t even try to hide her disappointment. “Wh- what?” Luna asked.

“Just- I don’t know… It’s easier with help.” 

“Huh…” Luna went brain-dead. 

“Like you’ve been with girls before! Just this one time, I swear! I won’t ever bring it up again. I just need help right now.”

Luna fully realized what her sister was asking her to do.

“Are you being for real?”

“Y-yes.” There was that awkwardness again. She was too cute to resist like this.

“So you want me to…” Luna’s fingers drifted to the hem of Roxy’s dress. Roxy turned away as she slowly lifted it to reveal her now damp white panties. Luna gasped, completely unable to pull herself together now.

“Please just- do it already.”

Luna nodded, though Roxy refused to look. Slowly, gently, carefully, Luna pulled her sister’s panties down to her shins. Now, her glistening cunt was bare and Luna saw the full lengths of what she had done to her sister with just a simple kiss. 

“F-Wow, you’re really wet, sis.” As soon as it came out of her mouth, she realized how disgusting it sounded. But that didn’t matter anymore, all that did, was Luna being here for her sister.

Luna teased Roxy’s slit, tracing her fingers across it and lightly touching her clit. The full weight of the action, Luna fingering her sister, wouldn’t quite break through to her until she had already slipped two fingers inside. Roxy, who up until this point had been lightly releasing quiet pleasured breaths, let out a full moan. The sound was intoxicating to Luna, she’d fantasized about hearing it for so long, it almost didn’t seem real.

“Fuck…” Luna sighed. Roxy let her head fall back as her breaths became staggered and harsh. The two tried not to look each other in the eyes as Luna spoke once again. “Is this ok?”

Roxy nodded, unable to speak at this point. Luna kept going, now being able to smell just how worked up Roxy had gotten. Luna’s pointer and index were now lodged deeply within her sister’s pussy, awkwardly curling and shifting inside of her.

Roxy let out a quiet whimper and covered her mouth with her hands, ashamed that she was being so loud for her sister of all people.

Luna pulled Roxy closer, maneuvering so that she could better reach from behind, though the position was awkward and uncomfortable.

“Luna~” Roxy whispered through strained whimpers as her sister fingered her from behind, her arms wrapped tightly around her waist. Roxy wrapped her own arm around Luna’s neck and stared up into her eyes. Finally, the two made eye contact, face to face, mere centimeters apart. 

That’s when the reason they had avoided direct eye contact became clear…

The two of them kissed once again, a deep, sloppy, passionate kiss. Roxy couldn’t help but moan as they exchanged saliva, their tongues writhing around each others’ mouths.

“R-Roxy~ Please… I can’t do this.”

”What? Why?” Roxy broke from her sister’s grasp, pouting.

”I’m i- I’m too hard… do you think you could-”

Without a second thought, Roxy started unzipping Luna’s jeans. Feeling her older sister’s hard cock beneath her tight satin panties drove Roxy crazy. Luna too was losing her mind, shaking uncontrollably as her nerves took hold. Having a girl, her sister no less, touch her in such an intimate way—

The thought was interrupted by the warm, wet sensation of Roxy’s tongue tracing the length of Luna’s cock. 

Luna whimpered as Roxy fit her dick into her mouth. The taste was unlike anything she’d ever experienced, Roxy could hardly think of anything else as she took the entirety of her sister’s dick down her throat.

Luna arched her back, grabbing the steering wheel for support, shaking and blushing furiously.

“Oh my god… Roxy, please~ please don’t stop.” Luna whispered.

Roxy looked up into her sister’s eyes as she pleaded. She looked so pretty from down there. 

It didn’t take long for Luna to finish. She filled her sister’s mouth with hot cum, so much it dripped from Roxy’s lips as she pulled off Luna’s dick. Luna loudly moaned, no longer able to contain herself.

Luna fell back into her seat, still hard as she shouldn’t have been. Unsatisfied, Roxy pulled her panties fully off and climbed on top of Luna. 

“Wait- Wait no!” Luna didn’t really want it to stop, but she knew if she let this happen, there really would be no going back. It was too late though…

Luna’s leaking tip disappeared into Roxy’s slick opening. Slowly, the rest of Luna’s dick entered her sister’s pussy.

“Luna~” Roxy moaned into her ear as she wrapped her arms around her neck tightly. The two sat in each other’s embrace for what felt like an eternity. 

After enough time had passed for the sisters to move past the initial sin, they made the final decision to keep going no matter how wrong it was. 

Roxy rose up slowly and slammed back down, her ass slapping against Luna’s thighs over and over. 

Roxy’s dress rose up high enough now that Luna could see the mess she had made of her sister. Wet, glistening in the light of the street lamps, freshly shaven too… 

“Roxy~” Luna muttered her lover’s name between whimpered moans. 

“Luna~” The two kissed once again. A deeper, more passionate kiss than either had ever given anyone else, like they had saved it specially for this moment. They moaned into each others’ mouths, taken by their shared euphoria. When Roxy rose, Luna pulled back. When Luna pushed deeper, Roxy buried her sister’s dick as deep inside her as she could muster without breaking. 

“Roxy~ I’m going to cum again~ I can’t~”

“Shhh…” Roxy placed a finger to Luna’s lips. “I know… me too.” She could hardly get the words out. “Let’s do it together… ok~?”

Luna nodded. The two increased their pace. Up and down, back and forth, over and over. Luna felt herself building to another climax, this time trapped inside her sister, when—

The two came together, screaming out each other’s names as they felt their minds go blank for one brief moment of pure ecstasy. 

Roxy fell on top of Luna, both of them breathed heavily. They didn’t move for a full minute.

“A-are you ok?” Luna whispered. “Was that ok?”

“Yes!” Roxy stammered quietly. “It was amazing, Luna.” She hugged her sister close. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Roxy.” Luna watched as Roxy rose from her cock, letting their shared liquids spill out onto it. 

“Thank you.” Roxy embarrassingly stumbled back into the passenger seat. Luna pulled her pants back up and Roxy did her best to clean herself up with the tissues in the glove compartment. The two drove home, not a single word exchanged between them. 

When they finally arrived, their mother still working late into the night, they returned to their separate rooms-

It wasn’t thirty minutes after they got back that Roxy snuck into Luna’s room to continue what they had started in the car…

[coveey-s]

spark: part 2

summary: Cleo Sharpe, a young FBI agent joins the BAU in the wake of the teams fight with infamous serial killer Mr. Scratch finally coming to and end. Cleo thinks she knows almost everything there is to know about the BAU but things aren't exactly as they seemed. Especially when it comes to the highly acclaimed Dr. Spencer Reid, who is a lot more reclusive and quiet then she would've thought. However something tells Cleo that something brighter is hidden underneath the surface, a spark. And she's determined to find it.

part 2 in this series

paring: spencer reid x oc

genre: slow burn (?)

content: none?

word count: 887

note: this is based on season 13 buttt I haven't finished that season yet LMAO so it may go off the narrative of the show a bit. this is definitely not factual at all (what do i know about the inner workings of the fbi or criminal proceedings help) so please suspend your belief and go with it 🤗

yk i never thought about how insane it'd be for the bau to have 9 people in it but ummm... the more the merrier?

also guys, writing fanfic is hard. i usually write like just fiction stuff so it's hella hard to try to write established characters properly #imjustagirl. ya'll are soldiers fr.

Cleo had never been overly scared about meeting new people. People were predictable. Behavior could be predicted down to a science, no pun intended. However, she still felt a little nervous that first morning.

She could predict that the team may be skeptical towards her. People often were skeptical of change.

Cleo knew that an agent by the name of Matt Simmons had also joined recently, but although he'd just now become a part of the team, the others had apparently known him for a long time.

Nobody knew who she was.

But she knew them. In the least stalker-adjacent way. Cleo liked to be prepared.

She stepped into the elevator from the parking lot with a little more confidence this time. Cleo knew her intelligence and capability. Although it wavered a little when she bumped the level 1 button reaching for level 4.

With a sigh she watched the number 1 light up and the elevator slow down. Cleo prayed no one would be there and she could slam the close doors button. But to her initial annoyance someone was waiting there.

Her annoyance disappeared when she recognized him, the guy from yesterday.

He glanced at her and she gave him a polite smile as she shuffled to make room.

"You're Cleo Sharpe," he began. Cleo turned her head. "Our new team member, right?"

She raised her eyebrows, "Yeah, I am, nice to meet you,"

"Dr Spencer Reid," he introduced. Cleo was in the process of reaching for a handshake when she processed who he was.

"You're Spencer Reid?" Cleo asked which was a redundant question considering he had just said that.

He nodded. She put down her hand. "You're not a handshaker, huh?"

Reid shook his head politely.

Cleo looked to the doors again, "I can't beIieve I didn't recognize you before."

Her brain hadn't registered the name with his face. He looked different than she expected. She remembered seeing a picture of Reid from a while back, he'd looked a little more nerdy. He was cute then and now, if she was being honest. But that was neither here nor there.

Apparently he was only twenty-two when he joined the FBI. He must've been in his late thirties by now, it made sense that he'd obviously matured. 10 years and a prison stint would change a person.

"You can't?" Reid asked and it took Cleo a minute to remember what she'd said last.

The elevator doors opened to the fourth floor. "It's just, you're kind of well known, you know?"

"I didn't know," he replied.

Most times Cleo would've called bullshit that someone like him didn't know he was well acclaimed, but his expression seemed genuine.

"Maybe you don't know everything then," she teased. The next second she realized that might've come out wrong.

"Oh I didn't mean it- I mean cause you're like a genius- thank you-" Reid held the door open for her as they stepped through the glass. "You're a genius but you don't know you're like kinda famous so it's... okay maybe it wasn't funny," Cleo mumbled the last part under her breath.

Reid nodded, "No, I understand. It was funny."

Cleo muttered a thank you as they reached the desks. She peered for an empty desk and there was only one, across from him.

"Is there someone sitting here?" Cleo cringed, she was having flashbacks to being a kid trying to secure a seat at the lunch table.

"No," he replied.

Cleo set her stuff down, trying to get things organized. Something on Reid's desk caught her eye. Actually multiple somethings, books, so many books. Not surprising.

"So I guess saying you like to read is an understatement," she remarked. He looked at her when a voice called, "Major understatement."

"David Rossi," he introduced with a smile, shaking her hand. Though the introduction wasn't necessary, he wasn't hard to recognize.

"Cleo Sharpe. Can I just say you're such a legend, I've read all of your books, I'm thrilled to be working with you." she ranted.

Rossi glanced at Reid, "I'm having deja vu."

Reid's mouth pulled up a bit at the corners.

Cleo wasn't exactly sure what Rossi meant but she bit her tongue, "I apologize, sir."

"Don't apologize, I'll take the compliments," Rossi smiled, "And don't call me sir, makes me feel old. Which I am, but I already know that."

"I won't." she smiled back.

For the next few minutes as the team filtered in Cleo beat the Guinness world record for most introductions made in twenty minutes. It was a little overwhelming, she had to admit. But despite her worries the team seemed quite accepting.

Finally a woman in perhaps the brightest outfit in all of the FBI appeared on the upper landing. It had to be none other than Penelope Garcia.

"Guys-" she started before she saw Cleo. "Oh you must be the new girl." Penelope said brightly, stepping hurriedly but carefully down the stairs.

"Hey, I thought I was the only one who got a "new" title," Luke pointed out.

Penelope eyed him before looking back at Cleo, "He's right."

"Cleo," she said, reaching out her hand. Penelope took it in both of hers, "It's so nice to meet you! I wish we had more time to talk but we have a case. And it's not pretty."

[she-is-juniper]

temptation greets you like your naughty friend (joel miller x reader) // chapter one

pairing: joel miller x fem!reader chapter title: the arrangement summary: joel miller likes to be made to feel in control; reader like to be made to feel helpless. thus, an arrangement is born, no strings attached. but there’s more than meets the eye to this gruff survivor.... This story takes place in the Boston QZ roughly 10 years after the outbreak begins, and Reader and Joel are business partners in the illegal smuggling trade. word count: 5K rating: E (Explicit) ***18+ only. minors DNI or you will be blocked. content/warnings: there’s a lot…. dom!Joel, no use of y/n, unprotected sex, established relationship, age gap (reader is in her 20s, Joel in his late 40s), oral s*x (f receiving), squ*rting, some degradation/humiliation but in a lighthearted way, some begging, a splash of a “sir” kink, some angst and resolution, porn with a bit of a plot, spanking, power play (all of this is consensual). Also Tess exists but she and Joel are not together a/n: ah, yes, the fanfic to end a hiatus... ♡ I recommend reading this one before bed so you can, yknow, have nice wet dreams about it while you sleep. to my long time readers/fans: hiii i missed y'all! to my new readers/fans: enjoyyy and please reach out to introduce yourself! i’m always looking to make new friends ◡̈ ((I do not claim to own the last of us or any other affiliated names or fictional events. Other details, such as names, locations, and events, are also fictionalized. Please note that the representations of body types in my moodboard are not intended to exclude anybody of any race, ethnicity, or body shape. And please, for the love of all that is holy, comment/reblog/send asks if you want to see more of my writing—it’s the only form of repayment i ask for!!! thank you in advance!))

———

A hardened man like Joel Miller has a lot to offer a woman like you. Particularly in the form of desperate, mind-numbing sex.

The kind of sex that makes you forget your own name. Makes you forget the sting of whatever injuries you’d suffered this week at the hands of thugs and hunters. Not to mention, makes you forget, even if just for an hour or two, the fact that you’re living in the aftermath of the apocalypse in a world savaged by infected monsters.

That’s the kind of sex you and Joel both crave. The kind that takes away the crushing weight of repressed memories and feelings. The kind of sex where there’s nothing left to think about but the way his cock fills you up and his lips steal the breath from your lungs. The kind of sex that, after a day’s worth of decision fatigue as Tess’s right-hand woman as a contraband smuggler in the Boston QZ, you finally don’t have to make a single decision for yourself, as your pleasure is entirely in Joel’s expert hands.

Just sex, nothing else. Plain and simple. That’s the arrangement as you know it. No cuddling in bed after, no exchanging tender kisses, no talking about your feelings or any bullshit like that. Just rough, dirty sex to get your minds off the shittiness of your lives.

No shame. Everyone who’s survived the pandemic thus far has found their own unique means of self-medication. For some, it’s drugs, or alcohol, or murder. For you and Joel, it’s fucking.

As for when the encounters would take place, it depends on the day or week. Today, after a particularly shitty week for the both of you, all it takes is a mutual look shared from across the room in the rations distribution center.

You’re near the front of the rations line when you spot him coming in toward the back. Joel surveys the crowded hall, the line of his brows furrowed into his signature harsh scowl. You meet the man’s gaze with glassy eyes of your own. In that moment you swear you notice his frown soften as he looks at you, although a tendon tightens on his temple. It’s a look that confirms he’s had just as god awful a week as you had, although there’s something more there today that you can’t quite put your finger on. 

You look away and sigh, wincing a little at the pain from a bruised rib that’s only just started to heal. Your injury’s pretty mild, though, and nothing compared to the state you’d left the other guy in. Oh, well. At least you got a few extra ration cards out of it, which you now hand to the FEDRA officer in exchange for a box of supplies and provisions. Mostly non-perishable food, but there’s also some medicines, toiletries, socks, soap—thank fuck, more soap.

On your way out of the hall, you meet Joel’s gaze once more. Not a word is exchanged, but with an almost imperceptible nod of his chin, you know you’ll be hearing his knock at your door at 2300 sharp. God knows you need his specific methods of distraction right now.

– – –

Three raps of his knuckles against your apartment door at 2300 exactly, and Joel’s all over you.

It happens so fast. As soon as you open the door, Joel seizes you by the arms and spins your body with his, slamming your body to the door with his own momentum to close it shut. Your sore rib burns from the impact and you hiss, “Ouch, asshole.”

“Toughen up, princess,” he growls. There’s nothing endearing about the pet name, it’s not like that. In fact, he says it almost demeaningly, which is on par for your relationship with the smuggler. But there’s a primal sort of desperation in the tone of his voice, and your arousal at that prospect spreads over your whole body and finds a home right in between your legs.

Joel’s hands wrench your arms above your head and pin them there as his mouth attacks yours, effectively muffling the surprised squeal that emits from your throat. His mouth is hot, his grown-out stubble scratching the delicate skin of your face in a delicious contrast, his breath faintly spiced from whiskey. You melt into him, arching your body into his, and a surly grunt resonates from his throat. He gathers your wrists in one hand pinned to the door and brings his free hand down to the nape of your neck, not so gently pulling at the base of your hair. He pulls away from the kiss and regards your exposed neck, where you swear he can see your pulse thumping in your throat. You wish he would kiss you there, but he holds back.

“Still on the mend?” he asks, bringing his hand down to your ribcage and barely brushing against the bruise. 

“Nothin’ I can’t handle.”

“Tell me if you want me to be gentler,” he says.

You almost scoff. The name “Joel Miller” and the word “gentle” don’t go together. Nothing about that man is gentle. And nothing about what you and he do together behind closed doors has ever been or will ever be gentle. Part of you wonders if Joel would rather go on home than fuck you gently.

Besides, you don’t want it to be gentle. Not one bit.

You slip one of your arms out from where he’s pinning them against the door. You grab his hand and slide it from your rib under your shirt to your breast, squeezing yourself with his palm. “I’m tougher than you think, Miller,” you purr.

It’s your way of giving him permission to do with you what he wants.

“Are you, now?” he drawls. He takes your initiative and runs with it, pinching your nipple between his calloused thumb and forefinger, just a little at first, and then much harder. You gasp, heat flooding your lower stomach. “You think you can handle me tonight, huh, darlin’?”

You reach for his crotch, feeling the erection you know he’s probably had all night, and smile at the strained breath he releases. “Should be asking you the same question, don’t you think?” you say. 

It’s a thoroughly bratty response, not to mention completely loaded, and you and Joel both seem to know it. Joel calls the shots in these encounters, not you. Which is exactly how you both like it.

Joel hitches your leg up and situates his hips in between your legs. You can feel his dick pressed against your inner thigh now. He tangles his hands in your hair and kisses you fiercely again. The only time Joel ever kisses you is before he fucks you. Never after. You’re sure that somewhere, buried deep down inside you, you secretly wish Joel would kiss you after sex, too. But that simply isn’t what this arrangement is about. 

You hang onto the moment as long as possible, lacing your fingers behind his neck and pulling him even closer. His once neatly slicked back hair now mussed from your fingers, and his skin smells like firewood and soap.

Outside, the female military voice recording announcing the strict enforcement of curfew echoes through the QZ, but you and Joel barely notice. You’re lost in him, the feel of his body, the touch of his rough hands, and allow yourself to fall into the mindless, primal motions of sex.

You and Joel have done this many times over the past few months. Sometimes, when all was quiet and going relatively well in the QZ, you didn’t feel the need to visit him quite as often. But your need to see each other only increasing in frequency when things seemed to get worse… and things surely have gotten a lot fucking worse lately. FEDRA cracking down on everyday civilian freedoms. Rising animosity between the factions of smugglers within the QZ, causing many of Tess’s deals for ammo and pills going south more often than not. Firefly attacks within the city walls with no regard for innocent lives. Oh, and not to mention the ever-present problem of the growing number of infected just outside the city… 

All of which to say, you and Joel have been seeing a lot of each other as of late. 

Clothes fall to the floor. Joel’s new shirt that must have come with his set of provisions today, your favorite holey sweater you can’t bear to toss, his pants, your pants, shoes and socks. The next thing you know, you’re flat on your bed beneath him. 

In your past life, would you have been with someone like Joel if you knew of all the bad things he’s done? Would it have overpowered the intense attraction you felt toward him, causing you to be repulsed by him? Probably then.

But not now. You don’t care what he’s done in the name of survival. You both have committed your fair share of inhumanities. But this is just how your lives turned out. Neither you nor Joel had chosen the life of smugglers, but the perseverance to survive takes over one way or another. 

But none of that matters right now. All that matters is the need to eliminate any space and barrier between your hot, needy body and his. 

He’s a menacing sight with his intimidatingly large muscles, the result of nearly five decades worth of manual labor, and the numerous scars peppered over his skin from countless tussles. He looms above you like a thundercloud, like a predatory cat prowling for its meal. You think to yourself how lucky you are to be on his side as an ally in your nefarious affairs—and not just an ally, but a business partner of all things. Because someone like Joel Miller would be a scary as fuck to have as an enemy.

Joel hooks his thumbs under the hems of your underwear and wastes no time to yank them down and off your legs. He pries your legs apart as far as you’ll let him, nearly drooling at the sight of you completely naked for him. You almost feel self-conscious, but you know if you try to shy away or close your legs now, it would do absolutely no good. Joel’s a very single-minded man. When he puts his mind to something, there’s absolutely no stopping him.

It always takes you aback when Joel doesn’t immediately penetrate you, especially with that glint in his eyes like the one he has now. But he never rushes that part, not even when you really wish he would. Instead, as per usual, he dips down and buries his face in your pussy.

“Joel,” you whine out his name, your body lurching—away from him? Closer toward him? You can’t be sure. All you know is that his mouth on your pussy like this feels so intense that it would be impossible not to squirm. You wonder if he does this for himself or for you. “You really don’t have to,” you manage to get out.

The look of sheer wrath he gives you…it’s as if you’d just told him you’d given away all the contraband he’d smuggled to FEDRA. “You think I only do this for you?” he rasps.

“I don’t know," you squeak out with a nervous laugh. "I mean, I know you do it every time, I just wanted to make sure you didn’t feel obligated—”

“Obligated?” Joel barks a laugh. “Don’t be so naive. You think I would eat your pussy if I didn’t want to?” 

Wetness pooled at your core. “Fuck, Joel.”

“I wanna make you squirm first,” he growls. “Wanna make you so needy and wet for me that you don’t think about anything else.” His breath fanned out over your pussy, and you shivered, your thighs squeezing together. He pries them apart again. “You say some bullshit like that again, I’ll tie your ankles to the goddamn bedposts so you can’t even think about closing your legs. You hear me?”

Your eyes widen and your stomach flutters. Does he not know how much the idea of that turns you on? “Yes,” you croak.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes sir,” you correct yourself.

“Good girl.”

He doesn’t need to tie your ankles to the bedposts when he’s got the leverage of his body weight to press your legs apart. His mouth is on you again in an instant and you gasp embarrassingly loudly, falling flat against the mattress.

He eats you out with the fervor and desperation of a parched man finding water, pressing his entire face into you as though he couldn’t possibly get close enough. Joel’s lips trap your clit in a tight suction, his tongue swirling in practiced circles in a way that makes your hairline break out in a sweat. You moan too loudly again, reaching for the nearest pillow to stifle the sound for the sake of your poor neighbors. 

Just when he’s gotten into a groove, Joel releases the suction of his mouth with a pop and buries his whole face even lower, his tongue drawing a lavish line up your entrance before moving inside you, his nose pressed against your clit. He’s absolutely ravenous, and you have no semblance of control left in your body. Your legs jolt, and he presses them even further apart in response. The sparks at the pit of your stomach bloom and bloom.

“Fuck, baby, you taste so good,” he moans into you. You moan in response, tangling your hands in his silvering hair. Baby, that one is new. Baby’s almost too sweet coming from a man like Joel’s lips. A little red flag goes up in your mind but you quickly forget all about it as he continues to lap at you.

Joel breaks away only to wet his finger with his saliva and you watch in awe as he pushes it into you. You see stars as he curls his adept middle finger up toward your belly button. You dig your nails into his arms and keen his name again.

The waves of pleasure grow and grow, like a tsunami on the horizon approaching fast and sure, and your breathing grows erratic. Joel is relentless, tireless, his lips finding your clit again, and it’s as if he knows he’s found the sweet spot, knows the exact speed and intensity to stay at to push you over the edge. His eyes close as if in total bliss, seemingly motionless, and only you as the recipient of this unholy worship could ever know just how expertly fast his tongue is moving against your clit. The combination of that with his digit curling up into you over and over breaks you of any resolve you might have had left.

You should warn him you're going to come. You have before. But you know how well he knows you now. He knows you're right on the edge. So he presses his palm to the soft part of your stomach, just below your belly button, and that does it. He knows me so goddamn well.

You come completely undone, the waves of your orgasm furiously overtaking your whole body. You arch your back and clench your walls around Joel’s finger, unable to keep from writhing in pleasure, unable to hold back the choked moans from your throat.

“That’s right, ride it out, darlin’,” Joel praises you. “Love feeling you squeeze my finger so tight. Good girl.” He sits up and watches your body come down from the high, gently coaxing about what’s left of your convulsions with his finger. But even once they subside, he doesn’t pull it out, instead continuing to curling it into you again over and over. You weren’t expecting a break—Joel never needs one, never gives one unless you ask—but you wonder how on earth you’re going to survive this. With a desperate, pleading sound, you peer up at him in disbelief.

“It’s too much,” you whimper. 

“Do you want me to stop?”

You shake your head furiously. Joel almost smiles at that, almost as though he knew your response already. He repositions himself so he’s propped up on his elbow beside your body, his other hand still at your slippery entrance. His finger slides in and out with each movement, the pad of his finger gliding against precisely the right place inside you. It’s a sensation only another person could satisfy in you, and you find yourself silently thanking your lucky stars that Joel knows how to do it so well. He knows your body so well after just a few months, knows exactly what you need is a break from the clitoral stimulation, yet added stimulation elsewhere. 

Pressure builds in your pelvis, a different kind of pressure than before. Your jaw falls open when his tempo picks up. Joel presses his forehead to yours, sharing your breaths, before he moves to your ear and starts whispering.

“Takin’ my finger so well,” he breathes, and goosebumps erupt across your whole body. “Wanna see if you can handle another one?”

You nod breathlessly and he slides his ring finger in with the middle finger. A jolt of energy overtakes your body. Oh, fuck, oh, fuck. The last time he fingered you like this, you had completely soaked the mattress. You had luckily remembered to lay a couple of towels down under the sheets this time, just in case, but still. You’d been humiliated. You hadn’t said anything about it last time, but you knew what had happened, and you knew that he knew.

And now he’s going to make you squirt again. Which means that he likes it. 

Joel sets into a relentless pace and the dreaded pressure grows and grows. “That’s my good little slut,” he growls. “Want you to let go for me, make my fingers wet.”

You can’t help it. The pressure in your core explodes. A slick wetness seeps all over Joel’s fingers and into the sheets around your hips. Joel moans into your neck. You feel yourself turning so hot you break a sweat.

“Oh god,” you moan, suddenly lightheaded, and you cover your face. You feel him wrench your hands away and he stares at you in astonishment.

“Are you…embarrassed?” he gapes.

“Yes,” you respond, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

His face shifts slightly from disbelief into an almost sinister expression. “Look at you. All humiliated at the mess I made you make for me.”

The fact that he takes pleasure in your humiliation turns you on more than you’re willing to admit. “Fuck you, Joel,” you bark back, but there’s no energy left in your voice for malice.

Joel grips your chin harshly, forcing you to look at him. “You don’t call the shots here. If I want you to make a fuckin’ mess for me, then you will.”

If he hadn’t been manhandling you before, he’s manhandling you now, pulling your limp body into the exact position he wants: on your stomach, your thighs pressed together, your ass pointed up at him perfectly.

You realize then that he’s been touching himself for quite some time through his boxers, only now he’s sliding them off his body, revealing his dick, weeping and swollen and angry red. If you had any ounce of energy left in your body, you’d flip yourself over so you were on top and wrap your mouth around it. But he’s faster than you can replenish your energy, and in one feverish motion, he’s mounting you from behind, his dick pressed against the base of your ass.

“Tell me how bad you want me to fuck you raw into these sheets.”

You know Joel, know what he’s doing. He’s playing up the moment, building the anticipation, but he’s also gauging your consent. He’s asking your permission.

“Please,” you mewl. “Please fuck me, sir. I want you so bad.”

“Good,” he responds. “Good girl.” And then he’s plowing his dick into you.

Holy fuck. The momentum of his first thrust pushes you several inches up the bed and you cry out, inviting the mix of pain and pleasure with eagerness. He’s so much fucking bigger than his fingers, even though his fingers are nothing short of girthy themselves.

He pulls out unbearably slow, almost all the way out, until just the ridge of his head remains inside you, before he grips your hips with a fervor and thrusts back into you with a grunt. And again, and again. A rush of emotions floods through you at the feeling…among them, a sense of security, a total trust in him, the reassurance at the knowledge that Joel would stop if you told him you wanted to. 

God, you don’t want him to stop.

“Mine,” he growls, gathering your arms behind your back, and your muscles burn. “You hear me? Your pussy’s fucking mine, sweetheart.”

You have no coherent response, only his name.

Joel uses your bended arms locked behind you as leverage, gripping them with desperation as he rams into you over and over again, taking what’s his. His dick feels unreal inside you, slipping in and out like it’s made for you. The position of your arms plays tricks on your mind, makes you feel trapped in the best way possible, like there’s no escape from this. Which, of course, there is an escape—the simple phrase stop, something you and Joel had agreed upon weeks prior—and yet, the false sense of helplessness is exactly what you’re going for. 

And what is it for Joel that gets him going about this, you wonder briefly? Is it the false sense of control, something he’s felt devoid of in real life for years now? Is it the fact that for just one night, everything that happens will have been something that Joel had direct influence over? Did he need that catharsis of complete control as much as you needed the catharsis of being out of control? You wonder if maybe you and Joel were made to find each other in these awful, bleak times, if maybe though you fight day in and day out about business, if you were made for each other in this way.

A strange sensation along the spine of your back. It’s Joel’s lips, soft and wet along with the scratch of his beard. Juxtaposed with the unforgiving force of his hips crashing into your ass, you melt into him. He's never done that while he fucks you before. Joel releases your arms and kisses your back again, seeming to soak in the feel of your skin on his lips. He moves up to your neck, still mounted on top of you, still sliding in and out of you with a vigor, but his mouth comes to rest by your ear.

“You feel so good, baby,” he whispers. “You’re so beautiful. The most beautiful girl I've ever seen.”

Oh, god. That was tender. You didn’t hate it, but talk about uncharacteristic for Joel Miller. Red flag goes up again. You squash it down, not wanting to kill the moment. You reach behind and comb your fingers through his hair. “Joel, oh my god, Joel.”

Maybe it’s as if he realized he’d breached some unspoken protocol with that lapse in his tough-guy persona, but Joel seems to snap to reality. With a new intensity, he pulls out of you to draw your hips up, propping you up on your knees and elbows. A much less tender, much more primal position. He kneels behind you and brings your hips back to meet his dick again, bottoming out in one motion.

You cry out and arch your back. This new angle is intense. Tender Joel Miller is gone, at least for now. He seals that notion with a hard slap of his palm on your ass.

He fucks you hard and fast and it’s precisely what you want. Waves of desire start to ebb and flow in your pelvis once again. You wince in surprise as you feel Joel bring his head down to bite your shoulder lightly. Nope, nothing tender about this.

“Oh my god, Joel, I’m— you’re gonna make me—”

“Make you what?” Joel demands. “Make you come again, pretty girl?”

You can’t make another sound; you feel so fucked out you could only nod as he brought you closer and closer. But Joel wanted more.

“You heard me, tell me how good I make you feel,” he growled and bit down on your shoulder harder this time. “Tell me you’re gonna come all over my dick.”

Telling Joel anything would be a little hard to do considering he’s fucking you so hard you could hardly breathe let alone speak, but Joel was now hell bent on hearing you. He slaps your ass again, even harder, and your knees nearly buckle. But you manage to locate your voice.

“You feel so good,” you sob out, falling forward onto your elbows while Joel keeps a tight grip on your hips. “I'm gonna come again.”

“You want that?” Joel says in almost a sneer from behind you. “You wanna come for me again, my dirty little slut?”

“Yes, sir,” you say, your voice hitching each time he rams into you, “please, please.”

“Love it when you beg like that for me. So desperate, it’s pitiful. Fuck,” he groans, seeming to somehow swell inside of you even more. Droplets of wetness roll down your thighs, your pleasure mixed with his precum. “You better not come until I say so.”

His request may or may not be plausible, given how fast approaching your orgasm was coming over you. You had no choice but to take him how he wanted you to and try to hold off your orgasm as long as you could. Joel keeps a firm grip on your sides as he snaps his hips, and the explicit slapping sounds of skin on skin fill your bedroom.

“Oh-oh-my-g-god,” you gasp out, moaning with each perfectly angled thrust, nearly in tears from how deep he is. You’re teetering right on the edge, dangerously close to the edge, but you realize then, so is he, if his heavy breathing and moaning is any indication.

“Come on, Joel, baby, cum deep in my pussy, make me yours…” The pet name had just slipped out of your mouth again. Reservations be fucked. If you wanted to be tender and intimate right now, so fucking be it.

Sure enough, Joel gasps and grunts with more bravado than you’d ever heard from him before, as if hearing you call him baby had made him come on command. You feel a flood of warmth gush inside you, filling you up as he stills and drops his head to your shoulder. The final bucking of his hips and the visceral, shuddering whimper that comes from his throat set you off as well. You can’t hold back the cry that comes from somewhere deep in your body. “I’m coming, Joel, I can’t help it—”

“It’s okay, sweetheart, come for me now. I got you. It’s okay.”

You come hard and keep coming for longer than you thought was possible. Explosions of pleasure wrack your body and were it not for Joel holding you up, you’d have collapsed into the mattress. You’re clenching so hard around Joel’s dick that you wonder if it might hurt him, but he doesn’t protest, just moans right along with you.

You’re still trembling from the aftershocks as Joel pulls you up so your back is pressed against his chest and you both take a moment to catch your breath. Joel cups your breasts and kneads them in his hands as he comes down from his high, and in your daze you were dimly aware that he’s peppering several soft kisses along your shoulder blades, humming against your skin.

Again with the intimacy. What is going on?

“Joel?”

“Mmm?”

“Are you...dying or something?”

“What?”

“Or, like, secretly infected or some shit you don’t wanna tell me?”

He huffs, peeling himself off of you. You ignore the feeling of his cum dribbling out of you and turn to look at him. He’s scowling now, to no one’s surprise. 

“What the hell are you talking about?” he barks. Aggravated, yet again. Oh, well, it's not like you were going to get any aftercare from him anyway—not part of the arrangement.

But nor was all that other shit he'd done.

“You’re acting…weird,” you accuse, your heart still pounding from before. 

“I’m not acting weird,” he snaps back, defensive.

“You’re not acting like yourself, is all I mean,” you respond, crossing your arms and legs.

He watches you, that same tendon in his temple tensing up. “I have no idea what the devil you’re talking about,” he mutters, looking away.

“You have no idea what—” you repeat, shaking your head before explaining, “Joel, that was different.”

“What was different?” he asks, his voice gruff. 

“That! The whole…” you say uselessly, gesturing between you and him.

He just stares at you. If he’s catching your drift, he must just be playing dumb now. “I’m gonna go,” he grumbles, standing to slip back on his boxers. “Come find me again when you start makin’ sense and stop drabblin’ on about nonsense.”

“Wait, stop, stop. Stop it, Joel,” you say, gripping his arm. “Jesus, will you let me talk? Why are you trying to run away?”

He glares down at you, his jaw rigid. A few tense seconds pass. “Go ahead,” he says at last, in response to the first question. As for the second question, you figure he’s trying to work that one out himself.

Now that you have his attention, you’re stunned. What exactly was the issue you were trying to bring up? He was being too sweet to you? 

As if you can feel your own defenses coming up around you, you look around for your sweater and underwear, not wanting to be the only one unclothed here. Joel watches you wordlessly as you pull on your clothes, and your resolve grows stronger. 

“That felt different,” you repeat, looking into his eyes for some sign that he agrees with you. “Didn’t it?”

Joel says nothing. In the silent space, your words come spilling out.

“Like… I don’t know, I just feel like something changed tonight. You felt different this time.”

Joel frowns in confusion and looks down at his crotch.

“No, not like that.” You sigh and run a hand through your hair. “It’s the things you…did. And said. It just felt different to me.”

“Like what?” Joel said, still playing dumb. You sigh again in exasperation. Is he really going to make you bring up specific examples?

“I mean, like…the kisses. And…and why’d you call me beautiful?” you insist.

He glowers. “What, so I can’t call you beautiful?”

“No, I—I mean, you can, I just… You’ve never said anything like that to me before,” you respond. He truly hasn't. He's called you sexy, called your pussy pretty, things like that. But he's never leaned down to whisper in your ear that he thinks you're the most beautiful girl in the world while railing the fuck out of you.

"Well, I did now. But I wouldn’t have said anything if I knew you were gonna get all weird about it.”

Jesus, he could be so fucking immature for a man in his late 40s. “It just took me off guard, that’s all.”

“Well, if that’s all, I don’t understand what’s the big problem.”

Why isn’t he understanding? You can’t help it, you explode. “That isn’t what we agreed on, Joel,” you say, your voice more insistent.

“What isn’t?”

“The...kissing, and the calling each other pet names, and the exchanging niceties,” you say emphatically. “Shit like that. That’s not what this arrangement is supposed to be about.” You started this with Joel to avoid your feelings…

Not to catch them for each other.

Joel leans down closer to you, cynicism in his voice as he says, “And what is it that this arrangement’s supposed to be about, then?”

“Sex!” you shout, raising your arms in exasperation. “Just sex!”

Right?

Joel says nothing. He stands and silently puts on the rest of his clothes before giving you the hardest stare you’ve ever seen from him since you met him half a year ago.

“Maybe for you.”

Your mouth goes dry. But before you can think of a response, Joel slips his shoes on and mutters. “I’m gonna go. Don’t come after me tonight.” Without another word, he leaves your dingy apartment, leaving you alone with your jaw on the floor. And in that moment, you realize, you had Joel Miller all wrong.

———

a/n: …i’m kind of embarrassed to put this on the internet but hey at least no one i know follows me so!!! hopefully at least! hahahahah 😭

Thank you so much for reading! I’m dying to hear your thoughts about it! Please note that I write fanfiction for free; my only request for repayment is a genuine expression of your thoughts, opinions, likes/dislikes, and predictions about the story. Whether it’s simply a “Wow, I loved it!”, a keyboard smash, a series of convoluted thoughts in the tags, or even a full-out review, please know that any and all feedback is welcome! 

For real though. Leaving feedback is just the common courtesy thing to do when you consume free, unpaid creative works online. Like I promise i do write for myself hehe but it really helps give me momentum to keep writing when i know that people genuinely liked my work!

For fanfic, blurb, or headcanon requests about TLOU, please send me asks!

Much love ❤︎ from Juniper

Taglist: y'all didn’t explicitly ask to be tagged but you did like my last post gauging interest in this fic so i went ahead and tagged y'all!

@amazonabxtch @katluverxd @bowie-frommars @tasmbestspdrman @ka-x-in @mouseymagines​ @fandom-queen67​ @bfences @rosegoldarti​ @xlengueterax​ @lol-im-done​ @aanie-lg @toobsessedsstuff​ @theangstypioneer​ @leonkennedyslefthand @lizajane2​ @typingcorgi​ @julietamidala​ @floralcyanide​ @bilualien @austinnpowerss​ 

[thedocs-in]

Cecil's Family

So let's start at the beginning, I should also disclaim, that I'm absolutely bullshitting this timeline. As I see Cecil in his late 50's or early 60's so I'm using that as the basis for all of this. In my personal fic I have it that he's 58, so I'm sorta using that as my base line. But feel free to put him at whatever age you want.

And buckle up, this is rather long. I can't condense things to save my fucking life.

Oh, I do also have another young Cecil fic planned that has his dad in it. Sorta basing it off a story my grandpa told me involving his own dad when he was younger. I will also get more headcannons out about Cecil's dad, and other family members if people want them.

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

Cecil was actually named after his grandfather who died in 1944 during WWII.

Now widowed, Susanna ‘Sue’ Stedman was left to look after their two kids, Cecil’s aunt Sarah, and his father Lyle.

Now, Sarah and Lyle are only a few years apart, with Sarah being the older of the two as she was born in ’35, while Lyle was born in ’37. Making them 10 and 7 at the time of their dad’s death.

A year following the death of her husband, Susanna would marry another man in 1945 by the name of Peter Briggs. And he… was not the best father/husband.

And he wasn’t a fan of raising another man’s kids

But a year after being married Susanna and Peter would have a kid together, this being Sarah and Lyle’s half-brother Ollie Briggs

Unfortunately, there were complications when Ollie was born which led to Susanna’s death. Leaving all three siblings in the care of Peter. Who was certainly not thrilled to be taking care of three kids by himself, especially if two of them weren’t his own.

Because of that, the three ended up in an orphanage. And thankfully, they were never separated, due to the help of a pastor who ran the orphanage. But as soon as Sarah turned 18 she had already been working for awhile and found a way to help her brothers and be there for them.

And as soon as Lyle was able to, he quickly got a job to help take care of his younger brother. Landing a job at a mechanic shop in the town they lived in.

(I kinda like to think that Cecil was born in Alabama, mostly cause that’s where his VA is from and I swear, if you listen carefully when Cecil talks you can hear a slight southern accent.)

Now, Lyle had built a bit of a reputation in town. While he was a good man, he certainly didn’t take bullshit from anyone and would kick someone’s ass in a heartbeat if they were doing something wrong.

Cough cough, this is where Cecil learned it from cough cough

This man had an extremely strong moral compass. If you were being a jackass, harassing anyone, being a bigot, you best hope you don’t do it in front of this man.

Because of this there were a few times he wound up in jail, with the pastor who helped him growing up or his sister having to bail him out.

Eventually when he turned 20, so in 1957, Lyle would be drafted and have to serve in the Vietnam war, getting discharged in ’65 when he was injured and lost a lung.

Ironically this man chain smoked like there was no tomorrow, while serving and after he was discharged. Resulting in Cecil picking it up sometime in his late 20’s.

A month after getting back, Lyle did go back to his job. And would meet Cecil’s mother, Bonnie Lynch.

Bonnie is a little bit of a bitch, and you’ll understand why in a moment.

Now, she was born in 1940. I don’t exactly have anything in terms of her family or her own history. I think the only thing I had was that she came from a well off family.

Those two got busy and a couple months later, surprise, she’s pregnant.

Now, Lyle is a good and honest man. And he tries to do the right thing and proposes to her.

However, she turns him down. And straight up tells him, “I’m not interested. I’ll have your kid, but as soon as they’re born. They’re all yours.”

She is the deadbeat mom.

(I have this little headcannon that Lyle kept that ring he proposed with and eventually gave it to Cecil for when he finally settles down.)

cut to cecil saying he’s married to his job

But regardless, Cecil is born sometime in late ‘65 and his mom just straight up leaves after like a month or two.

Now Lyle isn't alone in taking care of Cecil. As his sister is willing to help. Considering by this point she's married and has at least two kids with a third on the way.

Ollie on the other hand was off at college, thanks to the help of Lyle and Sarah putting money towards his education.

But Lyle is still a single father raising a child and it wasn't easy.

Bonnie would go on to be an even bigger dick, because 10 years later, she would end up having two more kids who she would actually raise. Well, "raise". She let those kids do whatever they wanted.

So somewhere out there Cecil has two half-brothers he’s met once and then never talk to again.

The one time they met with him was when their mother died, in like 2012, and he just didn’t want to get to know them. He thanked them for telling him and sent them on their way.

By this time, he was already director of the GDA, so, it’s not like he has a lot of time for family stuff anyway.

But he tries. Especially to see his aunt Sarah who is getting up there in age, and suffering from Alzheimer’s.

Though, by time we see Cecil in the show his dad has long since passed, having died from lung cancer in '96.

Cecil's family isn't overly large. And it's certainly not the happiest story. But his family is a loving one, and looks out for one another.

He does have a lot of cousins though.

[send-up-my-heart-to-you]

i know i’m late, but in honor of world’s teacher day i’d like to take a second to talk about my old arabic teacher

anyone who has ever had an arabic teacher knows that they’re really a hit or miss. for me, most of them were misses. in year eight and nine my arabic teachers were bullies who were such bad teachers that my arabic depreciated a lot.

then came year ten (2022-2023) and from the first day i could tell this teacher was nothing like that. he was jordanian, in his mid-thirties, and i cant remember how his face looked when he wasn’t smiling. his older daughter was in the same class as my younger sisters. he told us from the get-go that he genuinely didnt care if we stumbled over every letter we read, he didnt care if our essays were on the level of a third grader’s, he just wanted us to try. just wanted to see our hands raised even if we didnt know the answer. i took this as bullshit, honestly. i thought he was one of those teachers that says stuff like that then always tells you that you aren’t good enough.

he told us that most of our grade would come from essays, and i thought to myself, cool. i could swipe whatever of the internet. my first essay was written by my arabic tutor. i don’t even remember what it was about.

i got a 10/25. he didn’t say anything to me personally, but he said while addressing the class: “one student didn’t write her own essay. she got 10/25. another student wrote the whole thing herself with five spelling mistakes per sentence. she got a 20/25.”

near the end of the year he asked us to write about a person important to us. i wrote a six-page essay about my grandfather, submitted it after the deadline by almost a month by begging for extensions, and even then i fumbled by accidentally adding words that only exist in my dialect of arabic, instead of choosing words from standard arabic. i got a 90%. he pulled me aside in class, congratulated me, and called my mom to tell her that i did amazingly. that fixed my relationship with my mom so much.

his attitude with me was amazing, too. i was going thru a lot of stuff in year ten and before that, so teachers largely regarded me as a lost cause. he didn’t. he’d be genuinely proud of me if i just put your hands up. hes the reason i’m so confident answering questions in class now. one time i was talking to a friend in class while he was explaining a grammar rule, and he told me off. i just told him “i was paying attention” and repeated the rule to him. he didn’t say “yeah whatever” or blow me off. he beamed. he said “i swear to god, you shut me up.” i never saw a teacher be proud of me that way before or since

i told him once, privately, that i struggle with eye contact, but it doesn’t mean im not paying attention. other teachers who i told, they all said “ok but its rude. look me in the eye when im talking to you, it tells me youre paying attention.” him? he just nodded and never ever told me off for staring off.

he told us upfront that he’d never force us to present, but he’d appreciate it if we did. he said, “i know that people your age might feel anxious presenting, so tell me privately if you can’t do it. but if you do present, do it well. look your classmates in the eye—they are no better than you.”

speaking of which, i did deal with a good amount of bullying in year ten. my classmates would laugh at my slow reading, so he’d say “can’t you see she’s trying? leave her alone”. when they’d argue with him bc they didn’t wanna sit next to me, he’d say “be kind. shes your sister, you aren’t any better than her.” year ten was my final year in that school—it was hell being there, but when i transferred he was one of the few people i missed.

he passed way last april. i cried for a good two days, mourning him as if he was my own father. his legacy lives in the way that my reading and writing in arabic are almost flawless, in the way i now adore my mother tongue, in the way i listen to qasidahs and ahmed shawqi.

i will never forget you, teacher. may god have mercy on your soul and raise you to the highest ranks of heaven

[zoeysdamn]

Bark, Bite & Break Bones - Tyler Galpin x Van Helsing!reader |Part.1

Summary: Recently released from juvie by a court’s order, you go back to Nevermore academy to meet with the school board who had negotiated your parole in exchange for a very special mission. Trying to put your bitterness aside, you reluctantly agree and meet the infamous Hyde. What could go wrong with Tyler Galpin, after all?

Warnings: swearing, light violence

A/N: Might be some OOC, but I had so much fun writing this! Also, I made the reader and Tyler being a year older than the usual gang (Wednesday, Enid and co.) for both plot reasons and bc it sounds legit to me (it’ll make reader and Tyler between 17 and 18 - end of high school - and the other between 16 and 17). And I took some liberties and extrapolated a lot of information we don’t exactly have, such as the school board etc. This is fanfiction after all, let’s try things! 

[Masterlist] [Prologue]

Being born with a significant family name comes with perks: destiny already chosen, power coming with the name and ancestors' history, people already knowing you without ever meeting you, due respect. Well, if someone asked for your opinion, they would learn all of this was pure bullshit. 

As a Van Helsing, traditions had always ruled your existence, crawling their way in every aspect of your life. The mission of monster hunters started by your ancestor Abraham Van Helsing left no doubts in everyone's mind; before you could even talk or walk, it was obvious that you would learn how to throw a knife before losing your baby teeth, know all of the family's bestiary like the back of your hand by 10, and go to your first hunt for your 12th birthday. It was obvious that the family heritage and monster hunting duty would carry on with you. But then, your parents had a change of heart, and got you enrolled in Nevermore. Needless to say, the arrival of a Van Helsing at the very place creatures were supposed to be safe wasn’t pleasant, not even to you. The news of your return must’ve been even harder to swallow. 

“Principal Weems is expecting you in her office,” informed Vlad, the fencing team coach as you got out of the car and grabbed your luggage. 

He had been asked to pick you up from the detention center and bring you back to the academy. You had almost laughed at the irony of the situation – a vampire charged to be responsible for a Van Helsing – but had refrained yourself. You had to keep your sarcasm for Weems and the school board. Some students around you gave you curious looks, but you ignored them. They probably were younger or hadn’t recognized you yet. 

With coach Vlad on your tail, you made your way to the principal’s office, encountering a few shocked faces from students around your age. Their astonished faces brought a smirk on yours; so they hadn’t forgotten about your last stay here completely. Good. 

When you entered Weems' office, the whole school board was there, watching you like hawks. You remembered them vaguely from the last time you’ve been at Nevermore, an old vampire lady who looked like a Victorian character, a middle-aged gorgon whose sunken cheeks made him more severe than he was, a ginger and long-haired witch, and a dashing blond medium who reeked of fake smiles. The odd yet powerful bunch you owed your freedom to, much to your displeasure. 

“You’re late,” pointed out the vampire bitterly. 

Her frontal attack made you snort, “Sorry your highnesses, got lost in time while murdering a bunch of students in the way,” you said with a mocking over-exaggerated bow.

Your mocking comment made her purse her lips in annoyance, so her colleague Gorgon took over before she snapped something unlady-like, “I suppose you’re aware of the reason for your presence here, Miss Van Helsing?” 

Shrugging slightly, you nodded, “I’m to be the bodyguard of the new student/murderer or something like that. Can’t imagine how much it must hurt your pride to have to call me back here.”

The uneasy and irritated tension in the room just became heavier at your words; none of the people here wanted you here, not even you. Yet, you didn’t have a choice. 

“So,” you began to get this meeting started – the sooner into it, the quicker out of it, “what exactly are my missions?” 

Glad you addressed the question, the ginger witch cleared her throat and invited you to sit with a sign of the hand, “Due to a court’s decision, the school is to welcome the Hyde responsible for Jericho’s murders. This is the occasion for us to restore a good reputation for Nevermore, should we succeed in his reinsertion smoothly.”

“That’s where you need me,” you completed for her, slightly surprised by her brutal honesty. 

The witch nodded, “That’s where we need you,” she repeated. “Given your specific…skills, you’re the most designated person to supervise him during the school year.”

“For his own safety or yours?” you asked with a raised eyebrow. 

The blonde medium scoffed, muttering something along the lines of “what would he need protection”, but his colleagues ignored him and the vampire carried on. “Both, Miss Van Helsing. It’s in everyone’s interest that this experimental reinsertion works.”

“You do realize that you’ll drop a guy who can kill in a school full of people who hate him? How exactly do you expect this to be a success?” 

The blonde medium gave you a lopsided grin, “Well, that’s why you’re here now, aren’t you? To prevent some unnecessary trouble from happening.” 

You snorted loudly, “Ah, and I’m the most designated one to play peace keepers of course. I have no problem with handling the Hyde if things go out of hands, but for your students, ask the teachers do to their fucking job.”

Principal Weems, who stayed silent until then, spoke up. 

“The teachers will take care of the students, I can assure you. Your sole mission is to make sure that Mister Galpin doesn’t represent a threat to anyone.”

“And to neutralize him if he does become one,” quipped the Gorgon, eliciting a nod from everyone else. 

Their sudden agreement sounding like a discussion-closer made you frown. There was something that still didn’t sit right with you. 

“Okay spill,” you irritably said, “why me? Who bribed you into this idea?” 

All the members of the board got up without gracing you with any answer, bid their goodbyes to Weems and made their way to the door. 

“Answer me,” you called them from your seat, “which fucker had the brilliant idea to use me as a political lifeguard?” 

“You should thank them for once, Miss Van Helsing,” said the vampire lady as her colleagues got out of the room, “they gave you an unexpected occasion to redeem yourself.” 

You whipped your head in Weems’ direction as the door closed behind the board. 

“Do you know who suggested this deal to the court, yes or no?” you asked her bitterly. 

“I do,” she nodded, “and as a sign of good faith, I’m going to tell you. Your parents had made this suggestion.”

With a loud groan you slumped deeper into your chair, pinching the bridge of your nose. 

“For fuck’s sake,” you grumbled, “of course they did. Always sticking their noses in someone else's business.”

“They’re your parents, Miss Van Helsing,” reminded Principal Weems with a harsher voice, “they’re doing what they believe is best for you.”

“Exactly,” you snapped bitterly, “what they believe is best for me. They don’t fucking know me, and this is only a political move for their stupid pacifist campaign.” 

Weems sighed loudly at your angry reaction to your parents’ mention, then straightened up. 

“I’m not going to dig into your family business any further, but you’re one of my students again now, miss Van Helsing,” she said calmly, “I’d appreciate it if you'd keep your flowery language out of our exchanges from now on.” 

Rolling your eyes at her, you agreed, “Fine, whatever.”

“Excellent. Here is your school schedule, your dorm room key, and Mister Galpin’s file.” 

Getting up from your chair you grabbed the documents and started to browse through them. At your dorm assignment you raised an eyebrow. 

“A single room? To what do I owe this luxury?” 

Weems gave you a tight polite smile, “Considering how you value your personal space I thought this could be an olive branch in your direction.”

“Yeah,” you snorted, “this is also to prevent any potential roommate from trying to kill me in my sleep, right?”

The slightest nod of her head gave you confirmation. Well, whatever the reasons you were glad you had a room for yourself. 

“What about Tyler?” you asked, searching through the documents Weems gave you, “is he also in a single room?” 

To anyone else, your question could have been framed as an interested one; but Weems knew it was only you gathering all the information you would need to supervise the new student. 

“No, he’s been paired with a student a year younger than the two of you,” she said. “He should be stopping by any moment now.” 

As on cue, someone knocked on the door. At Weems’ invitation to enter, a lanky teenager wearing a beanie and with nervous eyes entered the room. 

“You uh- you asked to see me Mrs W?” he stuttered anxiously. 

You watched him carefully, analyzing every single one of his movements and his physical traits. In a handful of seconds you could easily guess he was a Gorgon. Old habits of a hunter didn’t die easily. The weight of your watchful gaze sent shivers down the boy’s back, even if he tried to ignore you the best he could. Thankfully Weems cut short his uneasiness. 

“Y/N Van Helsing, this is Ajax Petropolus, one of our Gorgon students. He’ll be Mister Galpin’s roommate for this school year.” 

Internally, you applauded the decision. It was a smart move to assign him a Gorgon roommate; their dorm would be the only place you wouldn’t be able to watch over Tyler, if he tried anything his roommate could stone him. Clever. 

The hand you offered him to shake made Ajax slightly jump. 

“Nice to meet you,” you said flatly. “Don’t worry I don’t bite,” you said at his evident nervousness, “at least not you this time.”

Despite the uneasiness coursing through his veins for being so close to a known monster hunter, Ajax shook your hand, “N-nice to meet you too.”

Weems glared at you for your teasing but cleared her throat, “Mr Petropolus has agreed to take part in this reinsertion program, and he’ll give you information if you need it. I thought it was important for the two of you to meet.” 

You rolled your eyes but then turned to the nervous Gorgon with a serious look, “For how long can you stone people?”

“Uh- two hours mostly,” he said nervously, and you nodded. 

“That should be enough if you ever need to stop him as a last resort. Are you afraid of him?”

“I…yeah a bit.”

“Good,” you deadpanned, “then you’re not half stupid as I thought. Good luck with getting any sleep this year.” 

Ajax threw a last glance at Weems that motionned to him he could leave the room. The boy had never fled a room so quickly. 

“What?” you said at Weems’ new glare. 

“Could you please refrain yourself from scaring every single student in this school?”

“Is either that or they hate me, can’t help myself,” you shrugged matter-of-factly. “So, when does that Tyler Galpin guy arrive at Nevermore?”

“Glad you asked Miss Van Helsing,” smiled Principal Weems, “you’re coming with me to pick him up from the detention center this afternoon.”

“Great,” you snorted, “a road trip with the Principal. Lucky me.” 

Weems only kept her polite smile. That made you think about something you didn’t quite catch yet; noticing your starring, the principal raised an eyebrow at you. 

“I don’t quite get how you survived to your allegated death,” you wondered out loud. “I clearly remember reading your obituary. Very touching, by the way.” 

She pressed her lips in a thin line, not looking very fond of this traumatic episode. “The shapeshifting abilities had allowed me to change my body’s composition to handle the poison that had been administered to me,” she explained carefully, which made you raise an eyebrow in turn. You did know the theory of shapeshifting, but never heard of a case like that. “Unfortunately the dose I received was too strong to remain in this corporal form, so I had to adopt another body and lay low for some time in order to heal.”

You nodded in understanding, “Explains the faked death. You’ve got more guts than I thought, I'll give you that.” 

“Get out of my office please,” sneered Weems. 

With a mock salute you got up from your chair and gathered the documents and the key to your room. As you went to the door, Weems called you out. 

“I’ll meet you at the entrance at 2 pm, when you’ll have retrieved your uniform.”

You froze in place and whipped your head in her direction, “Is this a fucking joke? The uniform? At least tell me you gave me the boy’s version and not that fucking skirt.”

“Rules are rules Y/N,” she smiled, not even half sorry about it. 

“Aww c’mon Principal Weems,” you smirked bitterly, “it’s the 21st century now. A girl can wear pants, I swear it’s socially acceptable now.”

“Good day Miss Van Helsing,” she said flatly. 

Opening the door of her office you huffed loudly, “And people think Van Helsings are the old-fashioned one.”

With that, you slammed the door. This was going to be a long, long year. 

A few hours later you stood in front of the detention center in your uniform, and a deep frown on your face. Although you had absolutely refused to wear the skirt outside of the Nevermore grounds and wore jeans, Weems hadn’t said anything. As long as you were here to do your job, the shirt, tie and blazer would suffice. Leaning against the car hood as you wait, you mind-absently played with your favorite sliding knife, twirling it between your fingers. Standing stiff next to you, Weems glared at you on the side. 

“I thought the non-weapon policy was quite clear,” she seethed between her teeth. 

“You want me to do my job correctly, yes or no?” you shrugged, “And there was nothing about a non-weapon rule in that deal.” 

Scoffing lightly, Weems readjusted the lapel of her coat, “Be discreet about it then. No need to make a scene.” 

“Yes ma’am,” you said with a mock salute, pocketing the knife as the heavy door of the penitentiary opened. 

Surrounded by two officers a curly brown-haired teenager approached, clinging on the strap of his bag for his dear life. His brown eyes were shifty, always avoiding looking at someone else. The red scars on his cheeks contrasted with the freckles and the frightened look that belonged more to the golden boy he must have been. Shoulders hunched, you almost thought he was about to cry. You repressed a roll of eyes; playing the frightened card, pathetically classic. 

“Thank you gentlemen,” smiled Principal Weems politely, signing the release forms, “we’ll take it from here.”

The officers gave your pair a wary look – the tall, blonde, impeccably dressed woman, and the angry-looking teenager, hunching and glaring at everyone – but then shrugged and walked away without giving it much more thought.  

“Hello Mr Galpin,” said Weems with her usual politeness, “it’s great to finally meet you in person.”

“Principal Weems I– it-it’s really an honor to join Nevermore, thank you so much for giving me a chance I–”

“This is Y/N Van Helsing,” she cut his rambling short, slightly turning in your direction, “she’ll be your tutor throughout your reinsertion year at Nevermore academy.” 

Tyler turned in your direction, eyes wide in surprise and wet with tears. He looked like a rabbit caught in headlights, like he was afraid you’d tear him apart. Good. 

“I’m a glorified bodyguard,” you specified while extending your hand to him. As soon as he grabbed your hand with his shaky one, you harshly tugged him closer. The sudden proximity of your faces made him blush slightly, along with the surprise caused by your unexpected gesture. Mouth barely inches from his, you locked your eyes with him. 

“Listen here and listen closely Galpin,” you hissed lowly, “I’m here to make sure you won’t fuck this up. If you ever slip away from this good boy path they want to follow, even the slightest, I’ll put a bullet between your eyes without a sweat, is that clear?” 

Through all your speech, your hand had been gripping his harder and harder, until your knuckles were white. Still, you could feel him shiver under your palm. He looked at you with fearful eyes, and at your dark and very much serious glare, nodded obediently. 

“Wonderful,” you breathed out before releasing his poor hand. 

Just before he pulled back, you thought you saw a glimpse of something else in his eyes. Like amusement, or cruel excitement. But given it was only for a split of second before the fright filled his look once more, you brushed it away. The second after, he was putting some distance between the two of you, giving Weems a dreadful look like begging her to come to his help. The Principal only sighed loudly and gestured to the two of you to get inside of the car. While she sat in the driver seat, you followed Tyler on the back of the car, where you’ll be able to watch him more closely. The proximity didn’t seem to make it at ease, given he practically pushed himself completely against the door to put the more distance he could between him and you. On the other hand you were quite pleased by that effect you had on him, even if the frightened little mouse behavior didn’t quite fit right with you. There was something off coming from this over-exaggerated mood of his, but it was yet too soon for you to say if he was playing this role consciously or not. You’ll have plenty of time to observe him after all. 

At the end of a very awkward car ride – where only Weems spoke, in occasional short sentences giving Tyler some practical information about his stay at Nevermore – you all got out of the car. After making sure she wasn’t needed anymore, Weems left you to give Tyler a tour of the school grounds. Fortunately, most of the students were in class for the time being, so you won’t have to deal with angry teenagers yet. The last look Weems gave you before leaving the two of you at the quad was very clear: it was a first test, for Tyler and for you. For all answers, you rolled your eyes at her and turned to Tyler. 

“Let’s go,” you groaned at the terrified-looking boy, “I’m gonna give you a tour of the place.” 

Not expecting you to walk away so quickly, Tyler stumbled behind you trying to catch up as you pointed out flatly all the major locations of the school. 

“S-so, you’re also a student here?” he stuttered, trying to engage in a discussion. “I didn’t think they…well you know, they’d trust me to be alone with another student…”

The snort you let out was bitter, “That’s why I’m here, pal. They don’t trust you, I’m here to do the dirty work if shit goes wrong.” 

The thought of that didn’t seem to put him more at ease. “You’re gonna watch me for the rest of the year? Like- like all of it?”

“I’m literally back in this shit hole only to bodyguard you,” you groaned in confirmation. “Trust me there’s a thousand other places I’d rather be right now, so suck it up and deal with it, Whitney Houston.”

As he stayed confused at your words, Tyler noticed a bunch of students in an adjacent corridor glaring at your odd pair, eyes throwing daggers and hushed grumbles undoubtedly bitter. At first he hung his head low in shame, but then he realized that the hatred glances were probably more meant to you. It was confirmed to him as a passing by student muttered a “fucking bitch” under his breath, not giving a single glance at Tyler. Taken aback by the unexpected violence, Tyler looked at you, even more surprised by the evident lack of reaction. Not even a slight frown on your face, you carried on your tour. 

“You- uh, don’t seem to be the popular type,” he chuckled nervously. 

“No shit,” you said with a roll of your eyes as you reached the boys’ dormitory, “I’m a Van Helsing, meaning most of my ancestors hunted theirs, and let’s say I’m carrying out the family legacy.” 

Tyler almost choked on his own air, “You hunt monsters? And you’re in a school for outcasts??” 

Sliding the key in the door lock of his room you gave him a playful wink and a grin over your shoulder, “What, you think I volunteered for this job because of your pretty face? I’m the muscles here pal, don’t get your hopes high.” 

Swinging the door open, you were welcomed by the sight of Ajax jumping on his feet nervously. The poor boy must have been plagued with anxiety all day at the prospect of his new roommate's arrival. The two boys glanced at each other shyly, looking more frightened by the other’s presence than anything else. You sighed loudly, pulling them out of this tetanized rabbits staring contest. 

“Ajax Petropolus, Tyler Galpin,” you said, pointing out one then the other of the teenagers. “Tyler Galpin, Ajax Petropolus your roommate.”

“It’s uh- nice to meet you,” said Tyler with an outstretched hand. 

Ajax eyed it warily before carefully shaking it, “Yeah…nice to meet you too I guess?” 

“I will have my own room in the girls’ dorm, but Ajax can stone you if needed,” you said matter-of-factly, eliciting a dumbfounded look from Tyler. 

“Stone me?”

“Oh yeah, I’m a Gorgon,” clarified Ajax with a small nervous laugh. “Medusa and all that, y’know?”

While Tyler stared at him with eyes wide like saucers, you turned to Ajax and outstretched your hand to him. 

“Phone,” you said sharply. 

The Gorgon looked at you in surprise, “What? Why? What do you want to do?”

“Browsing your internet history and sending it to your mom,” you snickered before rolling your eyes at his mortified expression, “I’m gonna put my number in it, what do you think?” 

This didn’t make him react either, if anything he was even paler than before. So you sighed and reached for his pocket to pick his phone and quickly saved your contact in it. 

“Here,” you said while putting it on his desk, “if anything happens you can reach me immediately.”

“O-oh,” finally let out the Gorgon with a shaky breath, “that’s why you wanted to– yeah I mean of course.” 

You raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him, which made him stutter even more. His awkwardness amused you but you really, really wanted to take a nap right now. So you turned to Tyler, who fidgeted nervously with the strap of his bag. 

“I’m gonna let you settle down here, dinner is at 7 I’ll pick you up. Don’t be late, or your stay at Nevermore will be much shorter than expected, understood?”

He nodded his head and you didn’t wait any longer to get out of the room, leaving the awkward tension-filled room. 

Walking through the corridors and ignoring the either surprised, frightened or dark glances on your way, you made a mental list of all the documents you’ll have to ask from Weems. Sure, you weren’t really happy about this situation, but it was a job like any other and you intended to do it properly. Meaning you needed to know everything about what happened at Nevermore since you had left the academy two years ago. 

Lost in your thoughts you didn’t notice the figure of another student coming straight in your direction. It was only when they willfully bumped their shoulder into yours that you realized they were right in front of you. 

Repressing a groan you looked up at them with your best glare, which turned into a mockingly delighted grin when you realized who it was. 

“Aaaah Yoko, what a pleasure to see you again!” you cooed with evident sweet-laced venom in your voice, “love the gloomy blind vampire look, really looks better than the acne.” 

“What the fuck are you doing here Van Helsing?” she seethed between her pointed teeth, “Has a deathwish?”

“Only on Thursdays,” you countered cockily with a wink. 

That only seemed to anger her more, “I thought that it was clear that you weren’t welcomed here anymore. You’ve been stupid to come back after what happened.”

“And yet,” you mused as you cocked your head to the side, “I never was welcomed in the first place, was I? Even if you definitely made things much more pleasant if I remember correctly…”

The vampire growled and before you could even blink her hand shot at your throat, ready to claw it open and pinning you against the wall. But as quick, your own hand shot up, grabbing her wrist just as her acerated nails were about to reach your trachea. Back on the wall you chuckled darkly. No matter how hard she tried to claw at you, you kept her hand in an iron grip.

Tsking in a patronizing manner you gave her a lopsided grin, “Now, you know I’m into that kind of things, but I’m not sure that you’re looking for a rebound hookup with me, are you Teethy?”

“Don’t,” she growled, “You’re not ever calling me that again, you bitch.”

“Awww, loved you too,” you grinned, “by the way, how did your coven take the news? That you slept a Van Hel–” 

Her hand tried to grab you again but your grip on her hand only tightened, “They don’t know and they never will,” she spat angrily, “and we weren’t dating.”

You gave a doubtful nod of the head, “Mmmmh yeah never said that, but we kinda did tho. But what would I know, I’m really not one who gives two shits about what my family thinks of me, right?” 

Yoko didn’t respond but rage was painted all over her face, a thick vein ready to pop out of her forehead. 

“Is that why you came back? To loathe at me after what you did?” 

You scoffed and forcefully shoved her hand out of your way, pushing yourself off the wall, “Don’t flatter yourself Teethy, you’re not that special. I’m here for business, nothing more.”

Yoko snickered, “What, this Galpin son of a bitch? What are you now, his personal bodyguard?” 

“Easy now babe, you know green doesn’t suit you,” you said with a roll of your eyes, “it does look fantastic on me though, I should know I wore it for two years.” 

“What’s your point?” she spat, her patience running short. 

“Don’t imagine things,” you said flatly, “I’m only here to make sure that Tyler guy doesn’t mess things up and neutralize him if he does. That’s what I’m doing best after all,” you shrugged. “As soon as the year is done I’m getting the fuck out of this shit-hole.” 

She narrowed her eyes at you suspiciously but didn’t say anything more. Getting this as your cue, you started to walk past her to resume your way to your room. 

“Soooo, if we’re done here with the empty threats I’m gonna leave your lovely blood-sucking company okay?” 

“You’re not gonna last,” she warned you, but you only continued to walk. 

“Big fucking news,” you called over your shoulder, “I live to disappoint!” 

“No one will ever help you,” she continued. 

“Boo-hoo, so sad!” 

“You don’t know what he’s capable of!” she finally shouted. That made you stop and you turned to her, an eyebrow raised up. Yoko had a wicked smile on her usual composed face, “Maybe if we’re lucky you’ll just kill each other.”

Staring at her silently for a few seconds, you then let out a snort. 

“Well, good news he doesn’t know what I’m capable of either then.” 

At 7 sharp, you were in front of Tyler’s door, waiting for him to answer your knock. You had previously texted Ajax of your arrival, and the poor boy had fled the room as soon as you had informed him you were entering their dorm. He had crossed way with you, eyes avoiding yours at all cost and walking the fastest he could. This made you chuckle slightly, but now you weren’t as amused. If Tyler didn’t respond in the next few seconds, you would blow up his door. Thankfully for him he opened the door just as you were about to lose patience. He looked just as frightened and lost as earlier. 

“Hi,” he said in a small voice, “am I on time?”

“You are. Luckily for you,” you observed sharply. “Let’s go.” 

He hurried behind you like a lost little boy, following you closely. 

“Is there going to be…everyone at the dining hall?” he asked nervously. 

You hummed in response, “Nevermore in all its glory. Even the school board if we’re unlucky enough.” 

Tyler gulped loudly, “Do they…do they all know what I did?”

“I don’t know pal,” you said with an exasperated sigh, “Probably yeah, I’m not a fucking reporter here.”

And then something you didn’t expect happened: Tyler sobbed. He legit broke down in tears in the middle of the empty corridor, hiding his face in his hands. 

“I’m sorry,” he cried, “I’m so sorry for everything that happened, I didn’t want to do any of this.” 

At first his reaction slightly took you by surprise. His pathetic display of emotion, full of tears, sobs and shivers was a heart-breaking sight. Even the tremors in his voice could make you shed a tear. But instead, you snickered bitterly. 

“OKay that’s enough,” you rolled your eyes, “no one cares about your guilty moods.”

“But I’m so sorry, I truly am,” he sobbed, voice heavy with tears, “I never wanted to do that you have to believe me—”

Grabbing him by the front of his shirt you harshly pulled him down to your height, forcing him to lock his teary eyes in your. 

“I don’t believe you,” you seethed, “not about your crimes, for all I bloody care those people are dead anyway. But I’m not buying your little act of the redeeming good boy so cut the fucking crap.”

For a millisecond, Tyler looked so frightened he might have convinced you. But then a wicked grin completely whipped away his tearful expression and his eyes darkened. His mouth morphed into a monstrous, pointy gash with a growl and big clawed hands snaked around yours. Just before his mouth completely turned into the monstrosity that had killed so many people, you headbutted him violently, smashing your forehead against his with all of your might. The unexpected shock definitely took him by surprise and he tottered back, gripping his head with both hands and groaning. The sneaky move had stopped his transformation instantaneously and you didn’t lose a second ducking down and describing a circle with your leg, tripping him off his feet. He crashed loudly on the ground, and before the next groan left his mouth you had jumped on him with a dagger against his throat and a hand gripping his wrist. Straddling him with a knee burying deep on his plexus, your other feet pinned his left arm on the ground. 

Breathing heavily, his face had become human again, a few inches from yours, close enough for your breaths to mix together. Some of your hair brushed against his forehead but this apparent intimate atmosphere was radically changed by the cold sensation of your blade against his throat. The slightest twitch of his jaw made you press it harder and almost draw blood, which made him chuckle. 

“Well well well,” he rasped in a mocking voice, “That’s not very nice”

“I’m not here to be nice,” you said flatly, “I’m just good at doing my job.”

Tyler let out a low chuckle, “Guess you have it in you after all, doll.” 

The light scoff you let out didn’t soften the pressure of your blade, “Guess you still have to learn about consent,” you countered back. “Touch me like that again and I’ll fucking kill you on the spot.”

The grin Tyler let out had nothing to do with the previous crying image he gave you earlier, “What makes you think you’d actually manage to do that?” 

Quick as ever a gun suddenly appeared in the hand that was previously tightened around Tyler’s wrist. Barrel pressed against his forehead, he grinned even harder than before. 

“Cute toy, had a few more?” 

You cocked the gun, the click echoing in the corridor, “I’m sure you’ll love the silver bullets, pretty boy. Should be keeping you down for enough time.” 

“Mmmmh, and then what? Gonna slay the monster and burn the house?”

You nodded your head matter-of-factly, “Been there, done that. Routine job really, you’re not that special honey.” 

Tyler chuckled slowly and mockingly raised his hands in surrender. 

“Alright then, I’m willing to play along. But only because you’ve asked nicely.”

You tried to repress the amused smirk, “I literally have a blade pressed against your throat.” 

Tyler shrugged, a smirk still plastered on his face. This made his scars on the cheek look even more ominous. So you leaned even closer to him, whispering in his ear. 

“If you ever try to pull this shit again on me, I’ll put a bullet between your eyes, understand?” 

With a feral grin, Tyler looked more pleased than ever, “Game on, doll. Game on.” 

[Part.2] 

A/N: More Ajax screentime? More Ajax screentime. And yesssss bisexual reader bc the raging bisexual in me is simping for that krkrkr

Plus, I love soft Tyler, but you know what’s better? Switch Tyler between soft and feral cocky bastard because yES. Originally I planned to make the Van Helsing reader insert a Xavier x reader story (with some differences in the plot of course), but I’m glad I’ve switched to Tyler. First, it’ll be a more interesting story (I think), and I love to explore writing for other characters! (as long as I’m comfortable with it that is ofc).

I wanted to finish writing chapter 2 before posting this, but eh couldn’t resist krkrkr

If you got the reference from ‘The bodyguard’, I love you

Thanks everyone for reading, I hope you enjoyed this part ♥

Hope you’re all doing okay, take care of you ♥

Taglist:

@igotanidea​ @officerrrfriendly​ @beggingforxavierthorpe​ @aliciahlewis​

Usernames unfound by Tumblr: 

@spiceyhotsherbet

Plz tell me if I’ve forgotten you in the taglist (or if you wanna join!)

[0prettygirl-jay0]

context: you and bakugo katsuki have been broken up for only a whole month, because he cant have any distractions while becoming number one, but bakugo katsuki just cant get enough of you.

tw: smut, degradation, nicknames, penetration, fingering.

bakugo katsuki is aged up. 18 or 19.

bakugo is older now and more mature so obviously he wont be all boom boom boom🎇

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

Y/n was in the U.A kitchen, it was about 10 o’clock when she started preparing dinner. Today was her day to make dinner, for the class. Everyone was either training or studying, so it was rather quiet in the U.A dorms. There was a pot of curry boiling on the stove as Y/n was cutting the carrots to go in the curry, she was also humming the lyrics to her favorite song as she tried hard not to cut herself with the knife. The day before, Y/n had hung out with izuku midoriya, her best friend simce childhood, and didnt come back until late. Now the two of them were simply just friends, and Y/n had gone to the mall with him to pick out a one year anniversary gift for his girlfriend uraraka ochaco. Bakugo was a super possessive individual, broken up or not, you were always his. That night when you came back from hanging out with midoriya, your ex, bakugo katsuki just so happened to in the kitchen grabbing a drink after his training session. Bakugo smirked to himself as the thought of midoriya taking you away from him was a thought worth laughing at. you were his, bakugo would make sure you knew that.

~Y/n’s pov~

“you go out with that idiot yesterday, hmm?” I stopped my action of cutting carrots for the curry i was making, I didnt even have to turn around to know that it was my ex, bakugo katsuki. i knew by his gruff voice, it always gave my stomach butterflies, just the way he carried himself, all the confidence. I looked over my shoulder and saw the blonde leaning against the kitchen counter a few inches away from me, no shirt, gold chain and gray sweatpants. The smell of his cologne was such a turn on, like how could a man smell that fucking good.

“yeah, what about it bakugo?” I said, with a hint of sarcasm in my voice as i tried to be annoyed by bakugo’s presence. The two of them were over so why the fuck did he care whether she hang out with midoriya or not, i thought. I grabbed the cutting board and scraped the knife against it letting all the carrots fall into the curry, going over to the sink to wash my hands and start the rice. Bakugo’s eyes looked me up and down and he scratched the side of his face gently…guess i wore this silky white night dress for good reason.

“Y’know i dont fuck with him mama…What’d you do with him anyway, hmm?” Bakugo said with his soft gruff voice as he walked over to me, while i was leaning against the sink. Bakugo put his big veiny hands to grope my hips as he moved his head to smell the perfume that radiated off my body. “ ‘M missed you mama, i know i said a bunch of bullshit, y’know i need you, deku cant treat you like i do, think i needa remind you who you belong too...” bakugo whispered into my neck.

i didnt know what to feel at the moment, anger or happiness that he wanted me back, Obviously i want my man back, but the things he said that night when we broke up, left me thinking about it for days. as I felt bakugo’s lean body against mines, my legs almost buckled and my mind just couldnt think straight. The need that I have to be with him, to have him all over me, but he was a asshole for saying all the shit and now he wants to have me back. “Bakugo…y’know were over, remember? god, your such a dick.” I tried to be stern with the blonde and be angry with him for being such a dickface this whole month. I missed him so much not just sexually but mentally and physically. i hate him so much. my hands entangled themselves in bakugos soft blonde hair and rubbed his scalp gently. Bakugo was putting all his weight against me as his hand slowly made its way up to my neck, choking me a bit as the other held my hip, bakugo them was pressing little wet kisses against my jugular.

“C’mon ma, y’know i still love you, this past month all i could do was think about you, you think about me too dont ya’?” katsuki said in his gruff voice as he moved his big hands from my throat to take my chin in his hand to make me look at him. “c’mon mama say it…say how bad you miss me. you’ll always be mine even if you dont miss me back, and that pretty little pussy of yours will always be mines too, aint no one could change that, not even stupid deku. you think he can please you with that little dick of his ma, hmm?” my breathe hitched as i heard katsuki talk like this. i know that katsuki loves me, obsessed over me even, but i knew that he loved my pussy more. teasing katsuki like this was just a sight to see, the smell of his colgne when he was this close to me, the feeling of his hand gripping my hip and kneeding it in his large hand, his voice. All of it was turning me on. i needed him, Bad.

fuck this. i need him.

I shook my head no, as i pouted a bit at bakugo. “He could never, katsuki…He could never please me like you can.” I said softly to katsuki as i felt him bend me over the sink. katsuki’s large hand pulled one of my legs to lay up on the counter as he moved my silky white night dress up. the sink was cold against my skin and the only thing i could hold myself up on was the faucet. when i looked back at katsuki i could see the possessiveness in his eyes and the little smirk on his face.

“Let me show you, mama….Let me remind you that this pretty little wet pussy is mine.” as bakugo positioned me in the way that he wanted, he went to kneel before me and that was the last thing i saw. kissing down my back, moving my lacy black panties to the side, slapping my ass, and licking one straight line in between my pussy lips was all i could feel.

~3rd pov~

bakugo began devouring his ex like his last meal that he would ask for if he were on death row, Sucking lightly on her clit. Y/n was in pure blissfulness at the feeling of his hot wet tongue licking her up and down, with her legs buckling, and thighs wanting to close in, she missed this for sure. Drool and Y/n’s wetness were dripping down bakugo’s chin and onto the kitchen floor, as he held onto Y/n’s thighs, making his knuckles turn white. Then he suddenly stopped.

“Suck them for me, your too loud, princess.” Bakugo said calmly and out of breath as he motioned for Y/n to suck his middle and ring finger. Y/n gladly took in his two fingers and swirled her tongue around the tip of them, as if she was sucking bakugo’s dick. She heard her man groan as he pressed against her lower half again with his dick now half hard. Bakugo pushed his fingers down further in Y/n’s mouth almost making her gag.

“Such a good little slut for me arent ya, Y/n.” Bakugo bit onto his lip as he watched his girl suck on his thick fingers. Then he pulled them out and went to kneel before Y/n again. This time Y/n decided to bite onto her lip so she could be good for bakugo, it was harder to keep quiet then she thought. Bakugo made of mess of Y/n’s pussy again and turned it into a ocean, flicking his tongue over her clit and adding one of his thick wet finger into her pussy.

Hearing Y/n moan so loud from just one finger, it made bakugo smirk. “shhh..shh…shh…stop making so much noise ma, unless you wanna get caught. is that what you want? for stupid deku to come in here and watch you get fucked stupid?” Bakugo said loud enough for Y/n to hear. “fuck…so fucking tight and wet for me arent you?” Bakugo started moving his thick finger around to try and get Y/n to lossen up as he flicked Y/n’s clit. “Tell me how much you’ve missed this, mama.” he said, not taking his tongue from flicking Y/n’s clit and not stopping the movement of his finger. “Tell me, pretty girl.” Bakugo whispered.

“mmmfuck, ive missed you so fucking much katsu. no one can fucking see me like this except you…~” Y/n said in a frenzy as the pleasure was getting to much for her to take, soon the tightness would flow and she would cum all over bakugo’s face.

Bakugo slapped Y/n’s ass as he spoke with a growl. keeping the movement with his finger as he added his ring finger in her wet hole. Looking at Y/n with soft, half lidded, lust filled eyes. “Thats right princess, only i can make you feel like this, only i can see you feeling this good. No one can please you like i can mama.” Growling into Y/n’s pussy as he continued licking her clit and licking up her wetness. “Fuck…mama….taste so fucking good…” As bakugo said that, with that gruff voice of his. Y/n let loose and came all over bakugo’s face. “good fucking girl…my good slut hmm?” bakugo growled as he fingered his girl, through the high and licked it all up. After he felt that Y/n stopped shaking and whimpering, he took his fingers out of her and put them in her mouth for her to taste.

“mhmm, taste delicious dont it, mama?…you make me go fucking crazy y’know that…i need you…not just for my sick fucking pleasure but mentally and physically i cant be without you princess.” bakugo said to Y/n as he kissed up and down her neck, leaving hickies and love bites in their wake. then he took his finger out of her mouth and picked her up.

“c’mere, lemme have you...” bakugo said gruffly walked to hold her up against the wall, with Y/n’s legs around his waist and her arms encasing him in her embrace. Y/n had not one thought behind her eyes, just the need and want for her man. “fuck me…please katsu….need you…” Y/n teased as she kissed up and down bakugo’s neck with heavy kisses and giving him huge hickies. bakugo and Y/n groaned out at the same time as bakugo grinded against her with his now fully hard cock that was standing up in his sweatpants.

“how bad do you want it, ma?” bakugo said with a smirk and a teasing little tone. he held Y/n up with one hand on her hip as he moved his other hand to take his cock out, the happy trail of brown hair leading down to the prettiest dick anyones ever seen. pinkish angry red tip, with green veins leading down to his balls. bakugo could feel Y/n’s thighs clench around his slutty waist.

“y’know i want you just as bad as you need me, please katsuki, give it to me. dont you see how bad my pussy needs you….” Y/n said with a sultry voice as she tried to get bakugo to stop fucking around and just fuck her stupid already.

bakugo smirked at Y/n as he looked down to see Y/n spreading her pussy lips for him. then he slammed his cock into her, with how wet she already was it was smooth entry but that doesnt mean it didnt hurt, Y/n let out a loud moan as she felt bakugo slam up into her pussy. “you’re such a naughty girl aren’t you, mama?” bakugo stiffened as all of his cock sat snug in her, he let out a little whimper as he could almost cum so hard from how tight she was. bakugo gripping on her tits and kneeding them in his one hand as the other held Y/n up “fuck…i love this little pussy so much baby, deku could never right?”

y/n continuedly shook her head no as bakugo pulled all the way out and kept slamming all the way back in repeatedly.

~katsuki bakugo’s pov~

bakugo was in love with this woman, the noises she could make, the words she would tell me. fuck…this woman’s gonna make me come. “mama…i love you…fuck ma..” i could tell she couldnt think any more, not even responding to me anymore. fucking slut, clenching on my dick like this, grazing her nails against my back, moaning like a fucking whore for me. the sound of their skin slapping was almost as loud as Y/n moaning out my name.

~3rd pov~

bakugo held onto y/n as he carried them both through their high, as bakugo came, he pulled out and spilled against her stomach and her chest. bakugo groaned against Y/n’s neck and then he fingered Y/n through her high while kissing her lips.

“y’know i love you mama, y’know i never meant what i said to you that night….i could never live without you dumbass.” bakugo said softly to Y/n as he held her naked body in his arms. bakugo’s hand grabbed her chin to make her look at him.

Y/n was just in a daze, and couldn’t think straight. “i know…you’re still a ass face though…” Y/n laughed a bit as she tried to steady her breathing.

~Y/n’s pov~

“not gonna say you love me back?” bakugo said gruffly to his exhausted ex as he helped her get dressed again.

“katsuki, what are we, hm? that night you said you didnt need me, that i was just a little fleshlight for you. now you come just cause i was hanging out with midoriya and act like we’re still together and be possessive and all that. what the fuck are you thinking?”

“mama, dont be like that…i say a lot of shit i dont mean, you and me both know that. i was angry and y’know i wanna be number one. even though i wanna be number one, y’know i would destroy the world for you mama. i fucked up, i know that. you’ll always be mine, and i’ll always be yours, come back to me mama, dont punish me like this.” bakugo said to Y/n as he sat her up on the counter so she could reach his height.

“you know i love you too, but i need to think.” Y/n said to her ex as she left him to think.

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

i keep putting my name in Y/n’s place 🤡

tell me what you guys think, i would love to hear it, also if you see my name or any mistakes comment and tell me. thanks 🫶🏼

[inseparableduo]

Part 1

“- So then I just turned off the movie and went to sleep.” Janne sighed. 

“Oh yeah, that’s… wow.” Jenny responded. Clearly not at all listening to anything he just said. 

Janne doesn’t notice at first. Too busy venting about the shitty movie he saw last night. Eventually, he does get frustrated with her half-assed answers and sad voice.

“Am I boring you?” Janne asks genuinely. Putting aside his anger for a second. 

“What? No, it’s just like… I’m exhausted from yesterday.”

“Yeah, that was like an anomaly, Holy shit.” Janne said, thinking back about yesterday. Who knew they would walk into an active crime scene yesterday after dropping off Alex’s pizza. Well, at least the lie of filming porn was convincing enough for the police to leave.

“Was it? Or the week before that, or the week before that - - Why do our lives have to be so fucking eventful?” Jennifer’s voice started to rise as she spoke. Not at all trying to hide her anger as she mentally thought of all the bullshit they’ve been through lately. 

“That’s a legit question, shit…

Do you believe in God?” He asked, almost absently.

“Do you?” Jenny questioned back, still annoyed thinking back on yesterday.

“No.”

“Me neither… You don’t think-”

“We are not going to church.” Janne quickly cut her off. It’s then that his phone goes off. He looks down and sees an unknown number. 

“Don’t know that number, wonder who that is.” He mused to himself.

“Let me guess. Bomb threat, rapist murder guy oh my god…” Jenny replied in a fake horror but overall bored voice and rolled her eyes. 

Janne then answers the phone and puts it on speaker. “Hello?”

“Hello this is the —------ correctional holding facility.”

“I knew it.”

“You have a collect phone call from…”

“Janne answer the fucking phone it’s your brother.”

“To accept these chargers press 1.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Janne sighed before pressing 1.

“Janne. Why isn’t mom picking up her phone?”

“I don’t know? Call her up and ask her.” 

“God. You both are so fucking dumb.” Jenny then scoffs.

“Ok. See you later, byeeee.” Janne then went to end the call only to be interrupted.

“Wait. Wait. Is that Jenny?”

“Yeah… why?”

“I met someone in here who wants to talk to her. Hold on a sec, ok?”

“Oh my god.” Jennifer spoke up, just a tiny bit scared. Last she checked, she didn't know anyone in jail.

“... This is gonna be a really expensive phone call.” Janne sighed. 

“Uh hello?”

“Uh, who dis?” Janne questioned.

“It’s me Kyle?”

“Kyle who?” Jennifer spoke up. Not having the slightest clue to who it was.

“We were at the barcade yesterday, remember?”

“Oh shit… yeah?” She replied. Her voice still a little confused. Where the fuck was this going?

“So I thought it over, and I killed my mom… So you guys wanna go out in 10 years when they let me out?”

“Uh… Yeah I don’t know.”

“Aw come on! You promised! You can’t back out now.” Kyle yelled over the phone. “What do you think, Janne?”

“I’m thinking how the fuck are you getting out in 10 years.”

“You wanna hear how I killed her? Would that turn you guys on?”

“Would it?” Janne thought out loud as he tilted his head and looked up. He was genuinely considering it.

“What the fuck! Hang up!” Jennifer whisper shouted to him.

“YOU SAID YOU’D BE ALL MINE! ALL MINE!”

Kyle shouted over the phone and Janne then finally hung up. 

“That was cool.”

“I’ve never felt worse in my life.” Jennifer said, bringing a hand to cover her mouth as she felt light-headed. 

“Dude, don’t worry about it. The fact he followed through means his mom was probably a total bitch anyway.” Janne said, calmly. Unlike his best friend, he wasn’t at all affected by what just happened. Despite it being his idea to begin with anyway. 

“I guess that’s possible.” Jennifer said, now just resting a finger on her lips. 

“And look at the bright side, he killed her for you. You’re technically the hottest girl in school now.”

“You’re kinda right.” She smiled.

“Yeah, they might even make a lifetime movie about this. Who do you think should play you?”

“Um… I don’t know.” She then flipped her hair over her shoulder. “I’ll think it over in class. You coming today?” 

“Yeah.”

[billieconway]

Full name: Sybil "Billie" Alba Soto-Conway

Nicknames: Billie

Age: 34

Star sign: Leo (August 5th)

Hometown: Macon, Georgia

Occupation: Paramedic

Pronouns/Gender: She/her, cis female

Time in town: 10 years

@aurorabayaesthetic

(trigger warning: this intro contains mentions of wildfires and spousal death, proceed with caution)

-born Sybil Alba Soto, birthday August 5th, Leo to a fault

- goes by Billie (rarely tells anyone her given first name)

-raised in Macon, Georgia and has a distinctive southern accent to this day in spite of the fact that she’s been in Aurora Bay for seven years

- has four brothers, is the only girl, big loud family (mostly republican, she doesn’t wanna talk about it)

- her mother, excited to finally have a daughter, put her in several ‘toddlers in tiaras’ sort of pageants (but got freaked out by the JonBenet Ramsey case, and never put Billie in a pageant again)

- had a very normal and happy childhood, was kind of a tomboy in her earlier years due to the amount of brothers (she is grateful for it, it made her very tough)

- was very miss americana and popular in high school; cheerleader, homecoming queen, most likely to suceed etc

-originally pursued a career in nursing, moving to los angeles to complete the nursing program at UCLA 

- during her final year, she veered into paramedic training after doing a week-long shadow of a paramedic for a research paper (she moved to Aurora Bay after graduation)

 - she met her future husband, Logan Conway (who was a firefighter), on a call during her first full week of work

- after two years of dating, the two of them had a small wedding in los padres national forest (billie was 26 at the time)

- by the time they were married, logan was working as a hotshot firefighter, specifically working in wildfires across the state

- almost five years ago, in a dry california summer filled with wildfires, logan lost his life while fighting a blaze in the los padres national forest after a freak wind shifted the fire and he was overcome by it 

- widowed at 30, billie remembers very little of the immediate aftermath of logan’s death -- only that she started laughing hysterically when the funeral director asked if she wanted him cremated (she did, but god, the irony)

- she took a year off of work after logan died, spending some time back in georgia with her family and spending some time in montana with his

- once she returned to being a paramedic (roughly 3 years ago) she joined the team at aurora bay fire department as their resident paramedic/ambulance driver, so she’s usually out on calls with them 

personality

- georgia peach all the way, billie is sweet but takes no bullshit (whiskey in a teacup sort of gal)

- feels and cares deeply from the heart, which is why she’s so good at her job (but can also be a downside because everything becomes personal)

- once you’re in her life, you’re there for good. she’s the kind of gal who remembers birthdays, your mama’s name, and what kind of dessert is your favorite and will always send thank you cards and read that book or watch that show that you told her about 

- she’s done a pretty effective job at trying to move her life through the loss of her husband, finally feeling like she’s making headway and going forward. has a morbid sense of humor about the whole thing. her heart still seizes up when she sees fire fighters running towards a blaze. very tough, but absolutely has her vulnerable moments and can be caught crying in the back of her ambulance from time to time

wanted connection:

- for the love of god this girl needs friends and people to lean on when she needs it, someone come drink wine on the back deck and look at the stars with her 

- maybe someone she met through a grief support group? 

- the one poor guy who has been/will be her first date since “getting back out there” 

- friends of her late husband (he was a Montana native but lived in Aurora Bay from the ages of 20-32)

- people she’s met from her college days 

- hiking buddy

- baseball game buddy

[mischas]

i'm 35 and the oc has been my entire life as a teenager/young adult and i love this show so much. i was wondering when you became a fan and what does your life look like now? do you still rewatch it a lot? what are your least favorite plotlines in s1-s4? i love hearing your thoughts. take care :)

Hi! You're very sweet, thank you! So just as a heads up my answers here are going to veer into the negative because I'm in a super negative space with the show as of late and I don't see that changing anytime soon. I apologize in advance for the soapbox. (and I mean really really negative)

For starters, I never watch the final season. I barely even watch s3, and haven't seen a complete s3 episode in a while. Certain scenes, though, yes and on a loop. Though not lately. But the final season doesn't exist to me because I find it repulsive and a stain on the entire show before it, even the horrendous third season. I often wish I could be like Adam Brody and separate the show into 's1 vs the other bullshit'. Believe me, I'm trying. Though I'd say splitting the show in half is best since you get to end on the shooting. S1 is on another level entirely and it wasn't until CHD that I understood why (for the most part). And that's a really terrible realization the more I think about it.

I'm almost 30 and I started watching when I was about 16 in high school. My life now is... not very exciting, lol. I work too much. Sometimes I don't work enough. I struggle with mental health (as evidenced by how seriously I take this stuff). I got into this show maybe a year or two after it had been off the air and Tumblr (and FanForum) was a super fun place to be at that time (2009/2010ish). The remaining Marissa fandom in particular was just cozy and sweet. We saw ourselves in her, had head canons, made fan art, discussed what she'd be up to, etc. I obviously wasn't part of the OG Marissa/Mischa fandom so I was pretty unaware of the shit they dealt with. On Tumblr we just celebrated her and it meant a lot to me.

For years, I, like many, thought Mischa chose to leave on her own. I could semi-stomach 325 as an arc, while still refusing to watch the next season in rewatches. This is the 2010s when JS was yelling "Tragedy was in her DNA" etc. But ever since MB started talking more about her experiences in 2021, and the podcast talking around her and Marissa forever, not to mention their shitty responses to her claims of bullying by men in power, I have been on a downward trajectory with it. The book is giving us maybe 10% of what really happened on that set. Mischa has been carrying the secret of her first relationship on her shoulders for 20 years, one that went on for months when she was 17 years old, and they all well fucking know that. I am in genuine disbelief at how they treated her then and how they treat her now. This isn't a fictional character. This is a real fucking person they keep screwing over!

But that does bring me to my next point which is that this show was unbelievably influenced by irl dynamics and I think that is disgusting. It's not just stealing Death Cab away from Adam (though I have my own thoughts on all that). There's a reason Ryan never pines for Marissa in the same way she pines for him in s2. Why he pretends she doesn't exist when he isn't dating her (from s2 on). There's an extremely charged energy to the way he verbally abuses her in 209. Like... this happened to MB at just 18. And look at how they modeled Volchok after Cisco and how they made MB pretend to do coke on camera when they knew full well she had a sober coach on set. Like, I know enough to put me off the show forever, but I am unfortunately endlessly fascinated by it. I'm sorry that I can't take the show at face value anymore, because it did and does still mean a great deal to me. But they thought they were in the clear 20 years later to only partially air their dirty laundry without much pushback and MB had the guts to say "well hold on" and be a thousand times more graceful doing so than I ever would. And we still don't know even a fraction of everything else that went down to this very real teenage girl they used and abused. Not to mention how JS/SS abruptly fired her and didn't even have the balls to tell her to her face. Her father told Josh's ass to stay away from the 325 set and he DID. Christ alive, this man should never work again.

I don't feel great about going all guns blazing here but I'm very tired and I get very little joy from the show right now. And I'm sorry that this is definitely not the response you were probably hoping for. To be clear, I want to enjoy the show. It means more to me than any other, probably. It's why I've been on this website since I was a teenager. But many aspects of it have been ruined for me and idk if there's a way back. How they purport themselves to be a family show still to this day when they treated the girl that they pursued for the job (at 16!) like shit is egregious. I will never be over it.

Sigh

To answer your actual questions, my least favorite plotlines (from s1-s3) are:

Johnny

Jimmy leaving in 207

Dean Hess

DJ

Julie/Luke

Lindsay/Caleb/Ryan

Charlotte

Hospital/Newport Group

Seth/pot (on paper this sounds wonderful but in execution it is as lifeless as the second half of the entire show)

Oliver (for good measure, officially when they jump the shark; he drives me crazy but TH does such a good job playing him that I'm ok with it until all of its aftermath is unfairly put on Marissa)

[willinglyghoulified]

List 5 things that make you happy, then put this in the askbox for the Last 10 people Who reblogged something from you. Learn about your mutuals and followers. 🎠 But only if you want to, just have fun! 💖💖

Awe thank you!~ I love this sm! Answers are gonna get long-winded though T_T

5 Things That Make Me Happy:

Positive Feedback - has to be on the top of my list because this absolutely does breathe life into me. I started writing in the first place to make people happy. I do it because I love it and I want to share that love with others. I want to be the writer that makes people look forward to getting off work to read that new chapter or the reason they stayed up a little too late because they just had to know what happened next. I want my stories to be someone else's escape. And maybe one day, I'll be on their bookshelves, too. ♥

Genuine Friendships - they're so important to me. I'm someone who has very few friends and even fewer family, so if you're close to me, it means something. I'm all about chosen family, and it often reflects in my writing (one of my fav main characters has a tendency to adopt lonely misfits). With my friends, we're either just acquaintances or you're my goddamn sibling, there's really no in between, which is both a good and a bad quality trait.

Fucking Fallout - because it's the most immersive game I've ever played. I know a lot of the games get some hate throughout the fandom, but I genuinely love every installment that they come up with, because it continues the story. Even with all its flaws, I love all of 1, 2, 3, 4, NV, and 76. I'm more partial to 4 because I relate more to their characters, but NV had the superior storyline. ♥ I literally cannot get this game or these characters out of my head.

BTS - Okay hear me out on this one: I know BTS is a stereotypical K-Pop band, but I seriously love them as people. I don't like K-Pop normally, as a genre. I listened to "emo music" growing up (I was born in 1993 so the 2000s was where my favorite music really lied). I was also a troubled kid and I brought a lot of those insecurities and trauma to my adulthood, and my old bands just wasn't doing it anymore. The memories of teen angst mostly stressed me out. But then I found BTS, and their music and messages helped me SO MUCH as a young adult, well into later adulthood (I'm 29 now). I absolutely love them, and they make me happy with their genuine care and messages. Those 7 boys are some of my biggest inspirations in life, reminding me that I can do anything if I try hard enough. But you will NEVER catch me mixing my love for BTS with the Fallout stuff on this blog. I've noticed that liking K-Pop is a quick way to catch hate, so I keep my obsession with them to myself. I'm okay with that; I've done it for the last six years.

My Husband - as cheesy as it is to say, I have the best husband I could have asked for. STORY TIME: I met him in Kindergarten, and he was always getting me in trouble by making me laugh and the teacher kept telling us to be quiet. She had to separate us. I had a crush on him in 2nd grade. Then we didn't see each other again until middle school. We had gym class together in 6th grade. In 8th grade, we became best friends. He dated a friend of ours in 9th, and I thought that would help me get rid of the feelings I had for him because I was terrified I'd ruin our friendship if I made a move. It didn't work out between him and our friend, but he told me in 10th grade that he liked me a lot, and we really understood each other. (Honestly it "helped" that we both came from troubled/broken families and were both below poverty level.) When we got together, we were each other's first EVERYTHING. We were together all throughout high school with no complications, and our peers deemed us worthy of being prom king and queen in 12th grade even though we were the nerds who oftentimes got bullied. It was so surreal. We moved in together after high school. We went through a loooooot of bullshit. Being kicked out of houses, losing jobs, losing family members (deaths and otherwise) and we're pretty much inseparable now. We've been together for 14 years. He's supportive in everything I do, even if he doesn't always understand my obsessions. He believes in me. He knows I'm not going to thank him for doing the bare minimum (respecting me, listening to me, helping me, not expecting me to mother him, etc). He genuinely fucking loves me. And he's pretty damn handsome and funny, too. Icing on the cake. And after losing all the people that we have over the years, we're pretty much all that we've got left. But I wouldn't choose to live this life with anyone else.