#but goddamn that beard tho

[t0ast-ghost]

Yeah if Spock brought back the beard in front of Kirk and McCoy there would be no survivors

[eldritch-crabbo]

actually felt cute enough to take a selfie for once, first one since january 2020. 🥰 pics of the crab are rare as hell

[psychoticwillgraham]

*has the urge to buy a bjd and turn it into a will graham custom even tho i cant do a face up to save my life*

[flares-of-arcadia]

FEN: Wildshape

Fennel is a young druid, usually accompanied by her pet ravens, Huginn and Muninn. If one needed to summarize her backstory, for whatever reason, the simplest way would be to say: She died and came back wrong. So what animal is more fitting for her to transform into, than a vulture? {Alternate coloring under the read-more.}

[samar-arijjj]

i've started referring to myself as a man recently and tbh it's like....freeing, i guess. i can call myself whatever i want, because i'm everything.

[dev1lm4n]

all glory

masterlist | kofi (support me here!)

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: joel has been feeling insecure, finding it hard to come to terms that he's indeed aging. tommy suggests a clever solution: a post-apocalyptic glory hole

word count: 4.8k of pure filth

warnings: minors dni (18+), post-outbreak, joel is 56 here hehe hot old men, insecurities, glory hole, fingering, unsafe piv, slight breeding kink, no pregnancy stuff tho cuz im terrified of that, reader calls him sir, pet name (darling)

note: i decided to create a kofi bcs im a broke college student lol. anyways hope yall enjoy this, do COMMENT and REBLOG if you enjoyed this :)

Joel Miller had always been a man of confidence.

Being left as a single father for Sarah at an early age, he’s been through thick and thin, trying his best to make ends meet so that they wouldn’t have to end up in one of those run-down shelters. But never once did he question his ability to attract women. 

He’s always had it in him. With a mere glance from his expressive eyes, he can ensnare hearts and leave an everlasting impression on anyone fortunate enough to encounter him. Rugged masculinity and striking refinement; a deathly mix that kept girls swarming after him like bees. After the world descended into chaos, he’s not much different either. Perhaps the bone-deep trauma had left him looking eternally exhausted with sunken eyebags, or that gray filaments started becoming a welcomed addition to his beard, but all in all he’s still charming.

He didn’t have to seek, because people seek for him. Joel had plenty of erotic rendezvous in times where society crumbled and the rule of law eroded, more so now that everyday could be his last and he didn’t have the privilege to take it slow like a true Southern gentleman. He’s done it everywhere. Inside a stuffy closet while hiding from a clicking monstrosity, behind a thin wall while her husband sat cluelessly on the other side, and even taking sexual compensation for his little business. Joel Miller wasn’t a saint. Neither he one for God and he’d like to make it obvious.

Nowadays though, within the tall foreboding walls of Jackson City, that type of attention has faded away. He’s no longer getting those longing stares from across the floor, no longer being begged to corrupt just for some extra wad of cards, no longer being flirted and fawned over like a goddamn stud. Joel didn’t have any problem with it at first. He’s growing old. Instead of those naughty strands of white peeking out of his head, he’s now a complete mix of salt and pepper. Instead of just having a fun smile line, forehead rolls and crows’ feet are now imprinted deep into every crevice. Joel wasn’t the man he used to be. 

He’s weathered away, he thought, unsuited for fun and adventure.

Perhaps it had something to do with his daughter as well. Even when Ellie’s not from his actual blood, everyone in town viewed her that way. He’s her father. Thus, everyone seemed to perceive and treat him as merely a father and not as an actual person that has his own needs and wants. Joel loved his daughter. Terribly so in ways he couldn’t decipher. A part of him has made up his mind that this would be how he should spend the rest of his life: in celibacy. Though the retirement of his sexual and romantic life has slowly taken a toll towards his self-esteem. Tommy, who’s always known to be rather slow and imperceptive, was surprisingly the first one to take notice of his gradual change.

“Maria told me you might be here.”

Tommy’s gruff voice brought him out of his trance. Joel looked up, meeting the familiar figure crouch to get into his little workshop. It was his newfound hobby these days, becoming a hermit and isolating himself from the community. He’d craft a wooden figure or two each night while he relived each and every one of his memories. Good and bad. Of death and of birth. Then by the end of the night he’d feel mildly satisfied with a wooden sculpture shaped like memorabilia from the old world. Joel couldn’t admit it outloud, but insecurity had taken over him. It festered deep into his soul that he couldn’t even bear looking at himself in the mirror anymore or present himself to society.

“Yeah, just..” he paused to ponder on a better way to answer. “Just doin’ my own thing.”

“You skippin’ dinner again?” Tommy’s curiosity sounded oddly suspicious, enough that Joel already knew he’s about to say something obnoxious or entirely uncalled for. The older quirked his thick eyebrows in return.

“Made myself my own plate,” Joel cocked his head towards where a lone plate sat. Judging from the crimson stain smeared on top, it must’ve been one of those canned pastas that he picked out.

“Brother..” Tommy started out, visibly nervous of how his brother would take it. “Is there something wrong?”

“With me?”

“Yeah, with you.”

“No, not that I could think of,” Joel hummed. “I ain’t bitten or anythin’, why are ya asking such a dumb question anyway?”

“You’re just different these days,” Tommy reasoned with a small frown. “You barely come out of your house and if you do, you’re huddled up in this place, carving things for hours on end.”

“There’s nothin’ wrong with wanting to be alone. Is there?” he challenged.

“No, but you’re.. different. Almost like your mind’s troubled for once.”

“There’s nothin’ wrong, Tommy,” he insisted.

Joel was actively avoiding the accusations. He stood up from where he’s been perched upon for hours on end, bringing his half-carved wooden slab with him to set it on one of the displays he had. He’s grown quite the collection. It’s been going on far longer than he’d expected, the crippling fear of being undesirable and hideous, and it brought up an immense feeling of embarrassment. He couldn’t possibly admit such things to Tommy, could he? Tommy was different from him. His first child was on its way to be birthed, but girls still chatter about his charming smile and strong figure. They’d still gossip and make dirty guesses about his size. How long he endured such activities, the position he enjoyed best, and how sweet he was to his partner.

Tommy couldn’t possibly understand his fear.

“You can’t help me even if I told ya,” he grumbled.

“Put some trust in me, will ya?” Tommy chuckled as he spun around his seat to follow Joel’s every move. “Tell me what’s troublin’ you, big brother.”

“They don’t look at me the same way.”

“Who doesn’t?”

“The ladies,” Joel muttered.

His words were barely above a whisper. It almost seemed as if he saw the phenomenon as something humiliating, up to the point where he couldn’t even look Tommy in the eye in fear of having him laugh. He’s never talked about this with anyone else. It didn’t help that he truly didn’t have anyone to talk to in general aside from the few acquaintances his brother introduced him to and well.. Ellie. But none of them seem to be the right person to talk to regarding this. 

Regarding his failure in masculinity. His unspoken worries that he didn’t have any of the strong, chiseled jawline or any of the tightly packed abdomen with six separate squares to admire. He’s grown old and weak. Five years ago, he could’ve probably still sweet-talk his way into a woman's heart, but now he couldn’t even look one in the eye without the fear of being put to shame.

“They still do, Joel,” Tommy assured him. He’s telling the truth. Joel knew that Tommy didn’t have it in him to lie, he’d have sounded like a strangled bird or a squeaky dog’s toy if he did. But his mind couldn’t believe it one bit.

“I don’t know, Tommy..” he muttered. “They don’t look at me the same way. They don’t look at me at all even.. and I’m fine with that I 'spose. I ain’t a whorin’ bastard who couldn’t accept that he’s agin’..”

“But they do, Joel.”

“I’m old,” he sucked in the air. “Lately there are these moments where I.. where I’d look a girl in the eye and all I could feel was humiliation.”

“Humiliation?”

“Like they’re lookin’ at me as if I’m some.. some sort of repulsive creature,” he whispered. “I feel like I could hear ‘em gigglin’ with their girlfriends on how shameless I am.”

Tommy was deduced into silence. Time ticked by as he cranked up his brain to figure out the best way to aid his older brother out of his misery. It’s all in his head, Tommy knew that Joel knew that as well, but it’s easier patching up an oozing wound than a troubled mind. He brought his hand together on top of his jeans as he waited for the younger to make another comment, whether of comfort or of a harsh reality.

“I’ll offer you a solution,” Tommy spoke up. “But you gotta promise not to lose your head over it.”

“It ain’t drugs, is it?”

“No, no..” Tommy chuckled humorlessly.

“I’m open to anythin’” Joel dropped his arms to his side as he curiously eyed Tommy.

“Have you ever heard of a glory hole?”

Joel’s expression contorted in such a way that the younger Miller couldn’t possibly read what he’s thinking any longer.

“I ain’t goin’ outside those borders just to go to some sketchy brothel, Tommy. That’d be pathetic.”

“Well, the thing is this whole operation ain’t sketchy,” Tommy reasoned. “The girls were tested and approved by the local doctor before..”

“Local doctor? You tellin’ me this is happenin’ within Jackson?”

“I operate it, Joel,” he sighed, knowing he’s about to be bombarded with a handful of questions. “And before you ask, no this ain’t considered prostitution as there’s no material exchange.”

“You mean..”

“Yes. The girls do it for free. Volunteers. They do it for their own pleasure and I help make their dreams come true.”

Joel looked at his own brother as if he was a mad man. Who wouldn’t? When he’s just told him that they had an actual glory hole installed without most of the public knowing. Or perhaps they knew, they were just not talking about it in front of Joel.

“Ten to twelve. There’s a small house across the sheep field. One girl every Friday night.”

“Jesus Christ, Tommy. Maria knows about this?”

Tommy shifted uncomfortably on the stool.

“No, but it’s better off she doesn’t.”

Joel felt his morals set askew for a second. This sounded like a terrible idea, despite the fact that he’s confirmed it himself that it’d be the safest a glory hole could possibly be. He scratched his beard and took it into deep consideration.

In the quiet stillness of a winter’s night, the world was wrapped in a soft, white blanket of snow. The moon hung low in the dark sky - a beacon towards those who chose to travel in the deepest hours of nighttime. Joel blew puffs of warm air onto his gloved fingertips, hoping it’d satiate the coolness that made his joints ache and his skin itch. The air was crisp and biting, each breath producing a frosty cloud which quickly amalgamated into the air. He watched as gentle snowflakes, alike to elegant ballet dancers, fell from the heavens up above and twirled and swirled into an intricate pattern. He’s been waiting for way too long.

“So what are ya sayin’? Are you gonna let me take you tomorrow night?” Tommy broke the silence.

Tommy promised to meet him on the edge of the sheep field, where they’d herd livestocks all throughout the warmer times of the year, but he’s yet to see his tall nose and dark hair from any of the cardinal directions. He’s been waiting for too long to keep the same mindset Tommy’s trained him into, that this was simply a beneficial exchange for every party involved and that he shouldn’t feel shameful for something so instinctive. Waiting gave him time to weigh out the cons, how this was naturally an act of debauchery that wounded both his moral values and beliefs. He ain’t a God preacher, but he’s sure to keep some of those Southern manners.

Maybe this was a bad idea.

None of Tommy’s ideas are ever well thought out. Starting from his sudden gravitation towards the military, to his desires to hand over his entire life towards the Fireflies, and now this. He knew his younger brother wasn’t the brightest of men, but creating an entire glory hole to keep the town’s morale up might be the stupidest one he’s heard yet. Especially when Maria’s not aware of it. He feared for the day when the beans spilled out of its jar, but tonight wasn’t that day. During the time in which he contemplated his decisions, Joel didn’t notice the crunching of snow against thick boots. Tommy was here and he looked far too calm for a self-made procucer.

Tommy beckoned him to follow the path his boots had made. Joel sucked in some of that painfully cold air into his lungs, before he stuffed his hands in his pockets and started trailing along. There were a few street lamps across the field, a ruddy glow emanating from them as they were adorned with a light dusting of snow. He kept his guards up while he scanned through the whistling field of crop, that traumatized part of him always keeping in check of abrupt movements and unsettling sceneries. After a quiet walk for a good three minutes, they finally arrived. The house fronts looked dark enough, and the windows even darker, contrasting with the smooth white sheet of snow upon the roofs.

There was snow piling up outside as well, dirtier ones whose last deposit had been plowed up in deep furrows by the heavy wheels of carts and wagons. He scrutinized over the tracks, wondering if this was meant to be used as a makeshift grain tower. If it was, then Tommy must’ve been a great scheming asshole to turn such a place into his own little heaven. Not one soul was around, which confused Joel even more. Wasn’t this supposed to be a public glory hole? Weren’t it supposed to be disgustingly packed with sweating men, adorned with walls covered in left-over spurts of cum and other bodily fluids, and smelled like sex itself?

Joel continued to pursue Tommy even when he’s overly skeptical about this entirely new scene. His boots were scuffed as he was dragging his feet through the front door, a fight against his defense system that’s begging him to flee out the door at the unfamiliarity. The establishment consisted of a long narrow hallway that eventually led up to an imposing door. Wooden, large, and mysterious.

To his surprise, what was beyond that door wasn’t some tacky sex dungeon with rattling chains and leather whips, it was a modest looking box. Square, he’d assume one meter wide and half a meter tall. He took in the wood it was made from. His pointer finger slowly traced the circumference out of habit. Oak, he concluded, making it sturdy and cool even in the warmer weather. What he failed to notice from the get-go was a pair of legs that were stretched open, chained onto the wall from the considerably-sized gap. Joel’s heart dropped to his stomach, he forgot for an entire minute what he was planning to do, and he’s starting to get cold feet.

“Darlin’, I’ve got someone for you,” Tommy cooed.

“You do, Tommy?”

Normally, people acquire hobbies in order to soothe their brief but occasional boredom, though you have discovered a unique way to tackle long hours of the night. This brilliant discovery of yours was birthed from a fated moment. One where you accidentally stumble across the conversation Tommy had with one of his patrol friends. It began a fantasy in your head. One you didn’t believe could come true until you overheard a passionate storytelling session one of the barmaids gave their friend. Only then did you gather enough courage to talk to Tommy about it. Despite his initial disapproval, saying things like you look too good and gentle to be doing such things, you managed to convince him with a week's worth of nagging.

“Mhm, one of my good friends here,” he hummed. “You’ll let him use you like a good fucking girl, won’t you?”

Goosebumps trailed from your backbone down to where your legs spread wide. Your nervousness made you flinch, effectively causing your legs to rattle against the metal restraints.

“Yes, I will, Tommy.”

When did you get so.. obedient?

“Alright then. I’ll see you in um.. twenty?”

“Thirty,” the foreign voice spoke up, masculine with a twinge of accent.

“Thirty it is.”

The entire room went quiet for an entire minute, only then did you finally hear the door slammed back shut. You swallowed back the throbbing fear in your heart, pushing back those persistent thoughts constantly warning you of the dangers. Even if you trusted Tommy with all your life, you didn’t trust the random strangers Tommy’s picked out. How could you trust them when you didn’t know who they were for sure? They could’ve been someone you see on the daily. The friendly guards, the cafeteria guy who’d always beam a sweet smile your way and give out more bread than standard, or even.. Tommy’s hunk of a brother. The same one who wouldn’t even spare you a look when you’re obviously sending heart eyes his way.

“Darlin’ is your name, ain’t that right?”

There was something so.. alluring about his voice. The type that makes your knees buckle inevitably, despite your best efforts to push it apart.

“That’s right,” you squeaked out.

“Darlin’, it’s been a long long time since I’ve done this, so let me indulge in you alright?”

“Okay,” you breathed out unsurely.

Your eyes instinctively followed the direction of the hushed voice, but all you could see from the dim box was a piece of dark fabric that was hung from above the hole. It was to keep your identity a secret so that the patrons across from you could only see you from the belly button down. Though now you felt more inclined than ever to pull on the draping and meet this man’s eyes. Your thoughts soon diminished when you felt a large hand over your inner thighs. Nowhere dangerous, just resting below where your kneecaps sat. You closed your eyes to try and envision the kind of hands touching you.

Were they soft and unsullied like a baby’s bum? Or were they rough and ridged with years of work?

That large hand traveled down South, inching with an irritatingly slow pace down towards where you ached the most. He was a fair man. He treated both of your thighs in the same manner before the two gathered together in a v-shape over your cotton panties. You wondered if you should’ve worn something more enticing, something which suited a person like you - someone willing to spread their legs for a true stranger. But the man on the other side didn’t seem to have a problem. He didn’t seem like he was bothered by the simplicity of your presentation, instead he was keen on pressing his thumb down the center.

They were the latter. 

His fingers were textured and it felt too good to be true. At the briefest touch, you followed after his movement, hips reaching further up to chase after his departing touch. You whined. Frustrated that he’s cruel enough to press your sensitive clit and leave you all hot and bothered. He let out a deep chuckle, one that came out from the depth of his stomach as he placed his thumb back where it belonged. Your hole clenched and unclenched at the stimulating sensation. Your cotton panties seemed to be a great aid for your needy clit. It felt similar to grinding over a pillow, just this time, it felt a lot more real and animated.

“How long have you been doin’ this, darlin’?”

“Doin’ what, sir?”

So polite. It’s laughable the fact that you’re so soft spoken. Your lips spilled out a gentle moan as his thumb dug deeper into that sensitive spot.

“Lettin’ strangers fuck you,” he was frank with his words that’s for sure.

“This is my first time.. in the box that is,” your voice cracked almost immediately under pressure. “Been thinking of this for a long long time though.”

The gruff man hummed noncommittally as he continued to please you with his thumb. You used to be shy when it comes to being reactive during intercourse, but with the box, it almost felt like you could finally be your true primal self with your utmost carnal desires. He slowly eased your stained panties to the side once he saw an increasingly growing wetness, knowing that it’s time to move on to his next way of torture. Your pussy was exposed to the cool air immediately, it felt like the air was nipping at the sensitive skin all around. He took his two fingers - his middle and pointer finger being his favorite choice despite the controversy - and slowly dragged it atop the slick canal.

“A pretty girl like you gettin’ all wet from a little touchin’,” he chided. “You haven’t been fucked well or somethin’?”

What a considerate man. He called you pretty when he could barely tell what you look like.

“No, maybe, I-” you were flustered. You’ve never had to exchange proper talk when someone’s touching your dirty, wet cunt. “None of Jackson’s men did good. That’s why I hoped..”

Your voice trailed off into a garble of nonsense when he teased at your entrance, trying to decide whether you’re soaked enough to push a finger in comfortably. You whined, louder this time, as your legs fought against the uncomfortable metal cuffs wrapped around your ankle. He decided to play nice for once and made your dreams come true by inserting that thick finger of his. Fingering has never felt good for you, it always felt like an intrusion rather than a welcomed feeling, but he’s making it feel like heaven on earth.

“Hoped a stranger would fuck me well enough,” you took awhile to finish that statement.

He let out one of those noises of disapproval, at your skewed moral direction perhaps or at the tone of desperation your voice must’ve let out. You could only suck in a shallow breath when he started making proper, continuous motions with his finger. He pushed upwards to poke the tip of his finger onto that squishy part, playing around to find out where exactly made you react the most. You loved how he’s patient. You’re half-expecting the men to just stuff their cocks in you like you’re some sex doll instead of taking their time, which you don’t mind either. Half the pleasure was from being treated like nothing.

“Dirty gal,” he degraded, which you found both surprising and exciting. “Just wanted her pussy stuffed with any cock she could have, hm?”

Your hips thrusted up at a larger interruption. This time, the man managed to insert two of his thick fingers inside your eased cunt. He twisted it one-hundred-eighty degrees to the left, then back to the right, before he curled it in a come-here motion. The motion had left you dumb. A combination of ah ah ah’s and unfinished pleads for him to keep still. The man never once fully removed his fingers out of you. He’d slowly pull back to only have a single knuckle stuck inside before pushing it all the way in once more. For once, someone didn’t finger you like you’re a pizza dough waiting to be pounded.

“A-ah, sir. I really.. mmh- I really like that,” you moaned out shamelessly. “Feels really good in my.. in my pussy.”

“You like what, darlin’?”

“Like your fingers.. fingers in my ah- ah pussy!” you whined when he deepened his reach by rotating his wrist upwards. “Something- fuck- something’s coming! Please.. Please don’t sto-”

You warned him like a goddamn virgin and there it was, you couldn’t see it, but you could hear the way your pussy squelched around his finger at the new wave of sticky fluids. The noises were filthy and lewd that you were embarrassed for the first time that night. It coated your throbbing cunt and slowly ebbed out of your hole, dribbling down onto the wooden floor boards under. Strings of almost translucent thickness proof of his success. It’s pretty. The way you gaped around his fingers, tightened and relaxed at his fingers that still kept you full.

“Good girl,” he cooed.

He must be experienced, because he was quick to rub your clit precisely as you went through the throes of orgasm. His broad palm never missed where that bundle of nerves were, until you’re dripping all over the place. Only when you’re right towards the end did he land a small smack atop your pussy, keeping pressure where your womb is to maintain the pleasure for as long as you could. It felt like this wasn’t a shit place for once. It felt like this stranger could surely turn the flesh-eating monsters into a field of rainbows and flowers from how good he’s making you feel.

“You taste sweet,” he muttered. “Someone ever told you that?”

It took you a while to notice that his fingers weren’t there to stuff you full. He was busy tasting you. You could imagine him on the other side of the room, rough fingers deep in his mouth, drenched in your arousal. The thought made you squirm, growing wet once more. You shook your head as his hand slid back up. His fingers ran over your clit with one long stroke before they stayed there. His thumb sat right atop the throbbing spot, unmoving. 

"Perfect little thing, ain't ya?” he asked, and you nodded, your muscles tense as anticipation ran high. "Gonna fill you up real nice."

As soon as the dull tip of his cock prodded against your entrance, your whole body convulsed. Tears slowly crept into your eyes, frustrated, you might as well cry out a pathetic plea if he kept on stalling. Your palms banged flat against the side of the box. Overwhelmed and on the verge of tears when he purposefully missed your weeping hole. His length slid upwards, the warm tip rubbed against your clit from below before it shied away once more. Your toes curled and he must’ve taken the hint from behind the curtains.

The perfect stranger pushed himself up to where his mushroom-like tip ended, allowing you to adjust to the dimensions of his cock before he eased himself deeper.

You let out a strained moan. 

You almost bump the top of your head on the oak boards when he forced his way in. His cock was fully inside you at last. You were ecstatic. Eyes shut close as you bit into your bottom lip, flesh tearing beneath your canines. It was too much all of a sudden. Too good. Too large. Too full. You could hear the loud squelching noise your spongy hole made as he pulled back and stuffed himself back in.

“Fuck,” he groaned silently. “Don’t squeeze around me, darlin’. You're gonna get me in big trouble.”

He chuckled and fuck did it sound so hot.

You felt his fingers gently reach for the width of your hips. His grip was tight and harsh as he guided your every movement with them. He thrusted like a man on a shooting range, with much precision and prowess. You liked this. Liked feeling as if you’re just a doll for people to use and dump their loads in, especially when it's for someone like him. His cock made you writhe and fight against the metal cuffs holding your legs up. Eager to have him speed up to meet your desires yet he was persistent in keeping a stable speed. The sensation was growing. Slowly but surely.

“A-ah.. mmph.. oh God!”

“God ain’t here to save you, darlin’. It’s just this old man right here,” he cooed crudely. 

He made sure to keep you full at all times. Never once did his perfectly-sized cock leave your sloppy hole, it just kept on twitching and growing in size with the help of your warm embrace. “You like this, don’t ya?”

“Oh- oh yes. I like it. Love your..,” he stopped your lewd confession by placing his thumb back atop your once neglected clit, drawing lazily with what’s left of your wetness. You could feel him starting to seep. A tinge of his own arousal mixing in with yours. “Cock! Love your c- cock.”

His heavy pants started to intensify in volume, such a lovely melody when combined with your pathetic whimpers. He’s close.

“Gonna cum in you, darlin’” he muttered out breathlessly. “Gonna make sure you’re all fucked out with my cum.”

You couldn’t think straight. Not when you’re on a highway to heaven. Your little hole tightened, so eager to milk him dry.

“Yeah, you’d like that, won’t you?”

“O-oh.. oh yes. Please.. fuck,”

“Please?”

“Please fill me up.”

His tip started oozing out ribbons after ribbons of cum, quickly filling you up relentlessly. Though he hasn’t stopped bottoming himself up into you. His load sloshed around, coated his length a perfect milky shade, and dribbled down your rear deliciously. Did you really just let a complete stranger fill you up to the top? Did you truly just let him pour his seed up your needy hole?

Maybe you did.

And maybe it’s reckless.

But oddly enough, you don’t feel too bad about it.

[waynes-multiverse]

Rehab – Prologue

Series Summary: Thanks to Soldier Boy, the CIA was able to develop Project Bloom under the fierce leadership of Grace Mallory: a final cure to Compound V and a hopeful end to the supe epidemic three years after the explosive incident at Vought. A secret rehab facility in Upstate New York is supposed to help former heroes find their way back to humanity. The catch, though? Soldier Boy has never fucking agreed to any of this shit and is surely not happy about being powerless for the first time in his goddamn long life.

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Female!Reader

Warnings: +18, language, general angst

Word Count: 778

A/N: Welcome, friends! I’ve missed writing for Soldier Boy, and I’m so happy to have this dirty, ol’ gramps back. Be aware, tho, that some topics are of a darker nature and it doesn’t necessarily have the happy ending y’all are imagining 😉 That being said, enjoy this prologue and lemme know if you wanna be on the series tag list for this story!

Feedback is my fuel 🖤

Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist

Prologue: rehab

“How are his latest test results?”

“Looking good, ma’am. His body is behaving exactly like we wanted it to. The Compound V is gone from his system after the third dose, and he’s recovering as expected. His vitals look very promising.”

“Good, good.” Grace Mallory nods at the young doctor in a white lab coat, a smirk playing across her thin lips as she looks at the unconscious fallen hero through the glass of his cryopod. “Wake him up and move him to the facility Upstate with the others,” she orders.

And so it happened that Soldier Boy was no longer a threat, the once most dangerous bomb on the planet defused, rendered harmless and impotent. These days, the former venomous snake was no more frightening than a toothless blindworm.

Y/N’s head lifts from the backgammon board in front of her and drifts to the commotion streaming in from the hall as the high-security metal entrance doors of the facility fly wide open. Curiously, she rises from her lounge chair, abandoning her winning match against her companion, and stalks closer, leaning against a concrete column. Three CIA agents hold down and wrangle with a furiously screaming man – broad-shouldered, longer sandy-blond hair, and neatly trimmed beard. They push him inside with all the strength they can muster while the guy in agony fights tooth and nail against the restraining arms around him.

“LET ME GO! I WILL FUCKING KILL YOU ALL! NO! NO! GET ME THE FUCK OUTTA HERE! YOU CAN’T DO THIS TO ME! NOOOO! DON’T YOU KNOW WHO THE FUCK I AM?! YOU FUCKING BITCH! I’LL FUCKING END YOU FOR WHAT YOU’VE DONE TO ME!”

Y/N, however, is not so surprised by that circumstance. After all, the guy’s not the first person that has ever tried to fight his way out of supe rehab. It happens all the time. In fact, she might be one of the few that actually came here willingly. Her brow significantly raises, though, as Grace Mallory strolls in behind the four men. Officially retired from the CIA but still in charge of Project Bloom, she only comes along for the special cases, the big fish, and as Y/N squints her eyes and takes a closer look at the newest arrival, her heart completely stops and drops to her slippers on the ivory linoleum.

“Is that–” She stumps, not daring to say the supe’s name aloud.

“Ben, yes,” Mallory nods and smiles, enjoying the struggle a little too much, her eyes practically fixated on the green-eyed man. “Of course, you might know him only as Soldier Boy.”

Y/N’s breath hitches in her throat. So it really is him. The sole reason why she’s here, the greatest superhero that ever lived who was captured and brainwashed by the commies – or so Vought claims. She’s never met him personally before today, but Soldier Boy’s surely been on the news a lot in recent years – the radioactive hero and his killing sprees. Whispered rumors among supes even say he fathered Homelander, which, if true, is just a blatant crime against humanity in and of itself.

“Do me a favor, Y/N? You’re our most experienced patient here – take him under your wing, make sure he adjusts and stays out of trouble,” Mallory says, albeit it’s unmistakably meant as an order. The CIA doesn’t do nicely phrased requests.

“Alright,” Y/N nods resolutely, hoping the former CIA deputy director doesn’t notice the thick swallow that drips down her throat. Her eyes swerve back to the man in question, one of the doctors forcefully ramming a needle into his jugular as the hero screams at the top of his lungs before his bowed legs give in. The violent green eyes lose their fight and close, and he succumbs to the linoleum with a loud thud worthy of his massive stature. “Is that really necessary?”

Y/N always hates when they sedate someone. After all, the clinic is supposed to help people, not necessarily torture them, albeit the CIA often shares a different view than her.

Mallory just scoffs darkly. “It is. Trust me. He’s a handful,” she notes condescendingly and rolls her eyes. “You have your work cut out for you with this moronic bastard. Don’t fall for his charm, and if he becomes dangerous, shoot him in the head. I trust your judgment.”

Y/N’s stomach churns at her words, watching as the former hero’s lifeless body gets dragged down the hallway into a room, the door locking behind him. And while she knows Soldier Boy is no innocent angel, she can’t help the sympathy that permeates her heart.

What do you see when you look at me? Don't cover my scars, let them bleed

Chapter 1: maybe

Mallory’s clearly not a Soldier Boy stan like us 😂 Hope you enjoyed this little intro, peeps! 🖤

Tag Lists:

Everything J (Prologue & Chapter 1 only): @extraterrestriali @this-is-me19 @writercole @awkward-and-indecisive @eevvvaa @panicking-outside-the-disco @globetrotter28 @imherefordeanandbones @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior @xlynnbbyx @jassackles @maggiegirl17 @perpetualabsurdity @deans-spinster-witch @deandreamernp @foxyjwls007 @roseblue373 @lyarr24 @deanwanddamons @deanwithscissors @mrsjenniferwinchester @justrealizedimmascifygurl @akshi8278 @flamencodiva @chriszgirl92 @wittyboldsoul @djs8891 @leigh70 @snowlovespie @b3autyfuldisast3r @ladysparkles78 @muhahaha303 @mimaria420 @creepzeyecandy @iamsapphine

Rehab Series: @eevvvaa @deans-spinster-witch @iamsapphine @jessjad @suckitands33 @ladysparkles78 @spalady26 @zepskies @syrma-sensei @muchamusedaboutnothing​

Note: Wanna be on the series tag and don’t see yourself yet? Lemme know! Everything J won’t be tagged anymore after Chapter 1.

[ourflagmeansgayrights]

ofmd s2e1 rewatch where i pause to jot down my thoughts and other random shit

not quite a reaction post bc i've already watched the whole thing. not quite a liveblog bc it's one post and it's probably gonna take me a full hour to get through a 28 minute episode at the rate of pausing and typing i'll be doing

s2e1, s2e2, s2e3, s2e4, s2e5, s2e6, s2e7, s2e8

anyway, pirate time:

i love how much fun con is having choking on his own blood

dream!stede's extremely teary face right before he takes off running down the beach is doing psychic damage to me

also dream!stede's stupid ridiculous outfit with all the long ribbons and shit...

ed and stede make contact so hard shjfkhsgjkfd the loud OUGH sounds from both of them

also the return of ed's old beard! i didnt expect to see her at all this season, so that was a surprise.

"babe" "love" im tearing out my own hair

stede has yet to learn that ripping ass near your beloved can be a love language

stede is a terrible fucking roommate just deal with wee john's gas in silence like the rest of them. goddamn.

WHO HAS THE OUR FLAG MEANS DEATH TRAMP STAMP. WHO IS THAT.

i like when the background OST is familiar to me lol the little strings when stede starts his letter throwing me back to s1

olu: that–that's the swede the swede: Im the swede roach: he's single ;) me: *pissing my pants with laughter*

also the direct confirmation that the swede literally doesn't have a name. incredible

shjkfhdhfkj the crew encouraging him. stede's "it's okay" and roach "be brave" im CRYINGGGGG

stede doing customer service is something that can be so personal. "reservation?" "eat my fuckin' shit" "right! walk-ins, then" average restaurant experience

the random background guy saying "my favorite hand!" abt getting stabbed in the hand is making me giggle. i love the humor on this show

why does stede have so much shoulder movement going on when he's walking through the bar. whore behavior.

"this is for mom!" sorry but i want to know more abt whatever's going on there

also the purple mohawk. dope.

buttons is so distressed LET HIM RETURN TO THE SEA THESE CONDITIONS ARE INHUMANE

"i know the odds of you finding this are slim but so were the odds of us finding each other in the first place" IM RIPPING OFF MY OWN SKIN

also stede's lil sad hopeful smile after throwing the bottle... i care him

i love how they make this wedding fucking suck so we don't feel too bad abt the whole massacre thing. "the natural condition of humanity is base and vile. it is the obligation of people of standing, such as yourselves, to elevate the common human rabble through the sacred transaction of matrimony" if i was at a wedding and the officiant said that i'd also start killing people probably

yayy murder montage :)

FANG BREAKING THAT GUY'S SPINE OVER HIS KNEE

the whole cake scene is so fucking funny im sorry. i love u jim drawing the line at attacking a shitty wedding. i love u archie who wasn't here for the good old days so you dont really see a problem with how things are. i love u frenchie with ur box in ur brain that u never open again. i love u fang it's gonna get better i swear. i love u frenchie again bc u just took the cake right out of fang's hands while he was fucking sobbing hfjhgkjhdkjkf

I MISS IVAN JUSTICE FOR IVAN. wish they could've said he'd just fucked off somewhere instead of dying but i think that would've raised the question of why hasn't anyone else fucked off since they all seem so miserable

very relieved that stede isn't taking the racist/antisemitic caricature drawings of ed to make like a boyfriend scrapbook like some people were theorizing. would've been overkill if after episode 4 from last season stede still didn't realize that ed hated these sorts of depictions of him.

INTERESTING DETAIL THO the background music in this scene is "a pirate's life" aka the song frenchie sang in the pilot. it's an instrumental version obviously but yeah i recognize that tune

also more cool background ppl with dyed hair man i love this show

zheng yi sao flirting with olu is so good. he deserves it.

how nice of ed to offer his drugs to the crew. sharing is caring.

also it's so funny to me that the thing izzy is tormented by is ed saying "you can't do the job, someone else will" the toe thing's happened three times and apparently that was fine but the thing the show edits together right before izzy breaks down into the most pathetic aheemheem whimpers isn't any of that it's ed threatening to fire him

also they cut ed throwing knives at izzy!! what the hell.

releasing the clip of izzy crying kinda ruined it for me when it came time to watch it in the show bc i watched it several times since it dropped and now seeing it in context i was like "ok i've seen this already fast forward." i mean i didnt fast forward through it but i did kinda zone out bc i've seen this bit already. this post kinda sums up my thoughts on it

"trifling ingrate plan" dshkjfshgdskhfjkhgkjh

"SEMI-CLEAN WATER"

JACKIE CALLING THE SWEDE "BOO CAKES"

"i know that guy we had breakfast together!" "you'll be having a lot of breakfasts-es together" "oh, okay" i fucking love this whole dynamic like i can tell they're writing the swede out of most of the episodes for budget reasons (sorry nat faxon) but by god do they give him such an excellent fucking send-off. can't wait to see him again when he's in his trophy husband number 20 era

roach is upset abt not being able to cook, buttons is tied up so he doesn't go running back to the sea (i assume). stede you are not giving your crew the environment they need to thrive.

olu being an optimist :)

buttons opens his mouth to drink the rain and in the background u can see roach yanking the rope around buttons back fhdjskgfjhgkjfh STEDE YOUR SEA WITCH CANNOT THRIVE IN THESE CONDITIONS

stede tries to make things sound good in his bottle letters to ed but out loud he says his actual insecurities... it's so fucking tasty tho that he thinks ed could be doing better without him and THAT'S why he's been stalling so much. not afraid for his life even a little bit he just assumes he's not wanted. brb i have to cry now

"im sorry if that's a little bit creepy" "you are creepy" in this scene where they're soaked from the rain. ofmd said this prince ricky guys is creepy and wet.

stede's fucking FACE when prince ricky says "you're my hero" his fucking "clearly you dont own an air fryer" face I CANT STAND HIMMMMMM (affectionate)

prince ricky "these rubes" "men of our standing" yeah i cant fucking stand this guy (derogatory) i love how he's barely even in this episode

stede's face when the swede is talking abt how happy he is with jackie... my man believes in love so much im gonna cry

also in what fucking way does the swede owe them a life debt. roach and buttons literally tried to eat him

izzy's "you know me better than anyone knows me and i daresay the same about you" this is literally so false i dont even know where to begin. izzy in e6 being like "if i didnt know any better i'd think maybe ed might possibly maybe be actually enjoying bonnet's company" while ed and stede are giggling and making each other friendship bracelets. this guy doesn't know ed at all.

also i cant get over how izzy wont make eye contact he's like staring blankly into the middle distance delivering these lines so flatly until he goes to say "i have... love for you" and in that moment he looks like he'd rather ed were feeding him more toes.

"im worried about you, we all are" not gonna lie my dude you've had a weird way of showing it thus far. where was all that worry when you told him he was better off dead than wearing a robe and singing songs?? where was that fucking love then?

and NOW izzy wants to talk it through. izzy literally voted to make blackbeard great again and now he wants to give open communication a chance???

lmao there's a limit to how many characters can be in a bulleted list so here's fucking. part two. on the same post:

ed asking everyone if the vibe is poisonous and fang cant stop crying and ed's face is just like "eh good enough" im fdhksgfkjtdkh

anyway ed with a loaded gun under his chin talking to himself is hurting me so fucking much actually. ed my beloved babygirl for whom i would die. this poor traumatized man. yes he is making this workplace toxic as hell but god. GOD. im gonna throw up.

the way ed is so fucking casual about shooting izzy in the leg. just calm and jovial as he promotes frenchie to first mate. stepping over izzy all crumpled on the floor. everything about this is so fucking good. i mean it's horrible for ed and everyone around him but for me watching the show this shit is DELICIOUS. i love when the pirates get violent and unhinged i love when this shit gets fucked up. ed's mental state is so bad right now and it is causing me severe anguish but also it is so tasty. fuck.

anyway frenchie trying to turn down the promotion fhjkghdfjkhf

the cut to the swede performing the husbandly duties is INSANE. COMPLETE TONAL WHIPLASH. I LOVE THIS SHOW.

"fuck those hammies up!" spanish jackie i love you

black pete why are you so fucking loud AND WHY WOULD YOU JIX IT LIKE THAT???

why is prince ricky so small. he's like a full head shorter than stede. also this guy is insufferable i love how stede just fucking abandons him fhjkgdhkdfghkj

"the calf muscle is the most mysterious of alllll the muscles" what the FUCK does that even mean. oh swede i will miss you

NOSE REMOVAL FUCK YES. I LOVE THIS SHOW.

obsessed with the swede playing dumb. the dramatic gasp. "wow, so bad!" fhjsghdkjf

"aint you that soup bitch?" "im the money bitch" i love women.

sfdsjkh spanish jackie being into double-crossing. and slapping the swede's ass on the way out. i love this show

i love how zheng says "this much indigo is worth three times what i paid" while spanish jackie and the husbands are still like, right there. and they just don't hear that bit. incredible.

OUGH the back of jim's weird rope armor looks like a ribcage that's so cool

i love how jim is so fucking bad at telling this story. i love how the monkey's paw comes into it. i love fang asking them to do the voice. i love archie trying to hold back her laughter i love jim and fang giggling together I LOVE THIS SHOW

ed's fucking voice breaking through his whole convo with frenchie. im tearing out my own teeth

HEY DID YOU GUYS KNOW THEY HAVE POST-CREDITS SCENES IN THIS SEASON?????????? WHAT THE HELL

i take back what i said about jim being bad at telling this story their version is so much fucking better. squeaky voice "I pray to you, Dark Lord, to make me real flesh! I want to be real flesh!" IM FUCKING OBSESSED. JIM I WOULD DIE FOR YOU

[historia-vitae-magistras]

Character Profile - America

Character Name: USA, Murica, Alfred, Alfie-come-lately, Al. 1585-1775 - Alfred F Kirkland. 1775-???? - Alfred F Jones.

Age: 16 as of 1775, 18 in 1789, 21 mid 19th century. 25 by WW2 and still generally in that range.

Height: 6'0/183cm in 1775, 6'2/189cm after 1850ish.

Physical Description: This child was born a tungsten cube and grew into an adamantium adult. He's tall, broad-shouldered and strong. USDA Grade-A corn-fed BEEF right here. He's muscle as fuck with a good inch of fat on him every which way. Really putting the dough in doughboy. He's athletic, with the shoulders of a linebacker but is shockingly graceful and easy in his body. Arthur loved him enough that the confidence and good nature he exuded in his posture and looks are 100% genuine 80% of the time. He was an absolute cherub of a baby and grew into the kind of good looking that would really be described as more beautiful than handsome if he wasn't as broad as the baptist definition of sin.

Eye colour: Pacific, deep water navy, NASA mission blue. Dark, dark blue. Almost black, if not in good light.

Hair colour/style: Amber waves of grain. Two or three shades darker than Matt's and less red than Matt's or Jack's. Imagine all the wheatfields of America at the reaping, find the average tone, and that's Alfred's hair colour. Rich, harvest grain gold. It has a good amount of wave to it that shows even with its being short. He's generally worn it short and to one side to show off the wave he can get. Had some wicked curtain bangs in the 90s tho.

Other distinguishing physical traits: He has never worn a beard in his life, but it tends to come in redder than his hair. Aunt Bridgie's genes really start flexing there. He's got a mostly faded scar over his heart from Matt's pyromaniac-ass burning down DC. And probably more I'll have to add here later.

Personal Appearance/Style: Alfred loves looking good. The first thing Francis taught him was how good he could look and he's been following it ever since. He prefers blue suits, but he'll wear warm greys and black. He knows he looks like a ten-course meal in just grey joggers and a NASA t-shirt against those golden guns of his though. Also, the uniforms he picks are the ones that look good on him. Does he look like shit in one shade of olive drab? He's swapping it out. He showed up in Japan on the Black Ships in the most flattering cut of the Navy officer's uniform there was and it looked fucking good on him, all that dark blue with gold accents. He likes brown leather over black because the warmer colour looks better with his golden boy looks, and he knows it.

Verbal Style: He uses a neutral American or a less broad New England accent when overseas but slides in and out of any possible American accent at home. He got shot at during the Civil War because even in blue the whole goddamn time, he would slide into his original Virginia accent and have to duck rifle fire. Fucker probably sounded slightly transatlantic for a while in the 20th century. He doesn't purposefully code-switch from culture to culture; it's just automatic. He speaks several languages fluently and without an accent if he wants to, but he uses a southern accent speaking Japanese or a Kennedy Accent when speaking German. He knows it's not a jelly doughnut, Deutschland, promise! The more Arthur annoys him, the thicker his American accent gets.

Level of Education: Arthur educated him at home, got him, tutors on literally anything that Alfred fancied, apprenticed him out to any trade that interested him; printing and gunsmithing were the big ones, and then sent him to Harvard when he got bored with that. He graduated from West Point just before the Civil War and personally shot a few of his classmates who sided with the south :) but turned more to engineering, commerce and math after the war. He didn't reappear in the east until the 1880s, so he did a lot of mail-order books and self-study during that period. He also got another degree from The University of the Pacific in that period out west.

Occupation: The government is always trying to rope him into shit, but the boy's heart is in the stars, and something the government did has to be a big deal before he gives a flying fuck. His main squeeze is NASA, but he occasionally shows up to DC to steamroll some favours out of congress, especially when he has the urge to fly something experimental or a particular issue has been bothering him.

Past Occupations: Soldier, sailor, airman, astronaut, gunsmith, printing press operator, mechanical engineer, heiress, physicist, chemist, biologist, anthropologist, archaeologist, mechanic, railroad engineer, cowboy, blacksmith, cook, construction worker, gamekeeper, welder, a gold miner. The boy has some restlessness, okay? He's had many jobs.

Skills, Abilities or Talents: Alfred, even amongst nations, is quite freaky. Super strength, damage resistance, resurrection power that's faster than almost anyone. He can fly, drive, handle or otherwise operate any vehicle without training. He knows how they all work. He's also highly gifted in math and physics. He has been known to make California tremble a wee bit when he's genuinely well and fucking pissed. He'll get his ass lost on a boat or on foot, but in the air, he's possibly the best navigator on the face of the earth. But literally, he can do almost anything he sets his mind to. It's unnatural.

Admirable Personality Traits: Optimistic, idealistic, brilliant, generous, confident, fair.

Negative Personality Traits: Self-righteousness, recklessness, thoughtlessness, arrogance,

Sense of Humor: Silly, slapstick, observational.

Physical/Mental illness or affliction: He's sometimes just shy of narcissistic but usually pulls himself off the brim. Arthur's sons might be eligible for an ADHD diagnosis, but I did that on accident before I got diagnosed rifp. He's not the anxious or depressed type. He has had periods of pretty acute PTSD.

Hobbies/Interests: Computers and tech, filmmaking, archaeology, camping, hiking, adventure sports, surfing, paleontology, working out, protein foot products, star gazing, listening to audiobooks and podcasts. But, like, literally everything interests this kid.

Favourite Foods: BBQ; he can't pick a favourite style tho. Burgers, cheese fries, pizza, strangely flavoured novelty chips. Apple pie with ice cream and blueberry maple ice cream is his and Matt's favourite. Paw-paws are a very rare treat. Huckleberry-flavoured anything will make him absolutely grin.

Most important personal item: He expected to inherit Arthur's pocket watch like other sons did their fathers in the 18th century, so in 1976, when Arthur did give him the pocket watch and a very expensive wristwatch because the pocket watches had gone out of style, he has worn it everywhere since. To Mars and the Mojave, he'll wear that thing everywhere and get it repaired if it takes any damage.

Person/friend close to character: Matt's his best friend. He and Maria are also close but belligerent. Arthur is also in his top 5. Kiku, Ludwig, Tolys, Romano, Mai, etc, are all on his very close friend list. Of older nations, he and Brighid are very close, if complex.

Brief family history: He was born in 1585 or so in Virginia. Arthur said, "finders keepers," From that moment, he was the man's firstborn child. In his childhood, he mainly had Arthur and Rhys, and Alasdair and Brighid, somewhat less until later. He's never met his grandmother or her ghost. He was an only child for about 20-30 years and spent a lot of his childhood functionally an only child with Matt in Francois' care. The two youngest 'siblings' he's got he's not quite sure what to do with them. The relationship isn't precisely sibling-like, but he's pretty fond of them, and he has some trauma from being ditched in New England during the British Civil War, so he saved their asses in 1941.

Most painful experiences in the character’s past: I don't think anything can top the Civil War because he represented the Union, i.e. the United States. It took him years and years to recover, especially because he was living a rough out west lot of the post-war. He got consumption while personally marching to the sea to burn the fucking shit out of the Confederacy. :)

Their Song: Babylon by Barnes Courtney.

[cositapreciosa]

You & Me

Gilbert 'Gilly' Lopez x gn!reader, (murder/dead body, nothing graphic tho, ptsd? hardships and hard time, vibes are Gilly's veteran's storyline in the show) the usual for the show, 2307 words

a/n : as DJ Khaled once said : another one. You & Me is a Yelawolf song that slaps so

A follow up of this one can be read part 1.2 here and part 2 here !

Tagging the people I won't stop bothering about this new blorbo obsession @narcolini @drabbles-mc

As always it's the fictional, not the real deal, enjoy xx (do I have to add this for Mayans too or? Plz don't kiss people who shot people? You get it.)

You hadn’t seen him in months, not before you had seen him again at Jacob's birthday party at least, it had been weeks since then. You knew he wouldn’t be mad that you came knocking, found his address the only way you knew how, like the good old days. You were always closest to him, throughout it all, recruits, being shipped out, Mosul, coming back in pieces after everything. You had tried to stay close with them at the beginning, fix the pieces of the puzzle, go to those forced mental-health meetings the army thought were necessary, birthdays or nights out on the town. Even so, it always felt like too much. Too much noise, too many people, too many questions about everything that kept you awake at night. Too many pieces that couldn’t be put back like the others could. You just couldn’t see them as much after that, after you had realized they reminded you every day about what was wrong with you, what you couldn’t fix. You had missed him, of course, oh so much, but every time you stayed too long it felt like you were dragging them all down with you.

You knock on the door, knuckles on the paint. You know it is probably a bad thing, coming unannounced in the middle of the night, but you can’t seem to care. Before you could realize it, you had driven your car to his street, slowing down to read the numbers on the door, finally stopping in front of it. It’s a quaint building, with a nice white door, windows on each side. It didn’t look how you had imagined it and you had, so many times, wished to leave whatever shit show you had gotten yourself into this time. Run back to him. You don’t understand how you managed to escape one hell, only to get yourself trapped in another so quickly. So many hours spent training, fighting for your life, only to fall for a goddamn-

He opens the door, chain pulling between the frames. The porch is dark, barely lit, but you can see the surprise on his face, the confusion as your name falls from his lips. Guilt builds in your chest, panic clawing at your throat.

‘’ Hey, Gil. ‘’

It’s all you can manage, a small smile tugging at your lips, a peace offering. You know you don’t have to explain, that he understands, clearly you are not showing up this late for a beer and a chat. He moves behind the opened door, probably tucking in his waistband whatever gun he had snatched on his way to investigate the noise. He tugs the chain off, opening the door wider this time. You can see him looking around the street, ensuring it is only you and him. You feel like you can’t breathe like you are doing something you shouldn’t, even though you know this is precisely what you should be doing.

‘’ Are you alright? How did you get my… ‘’ You can hear the concern in his voice, see the confusion on his face as he trails off. His beard is shorter than the last time you had seen him, trimmed around the edges. You probably woke him up, you realize.

‘’ Are you doubting my skills now, ranger? ‘’

You want it to sound like a joke, you really do, but it lands flat, your voice is hoarse, tired, adrenaline wearing off. If he noticed it, he doesn’t tell you. He is not pushing you away, yet, and tonight, for the first time, you feel like you can really let your guard down. You take a deep breath, a shaky one, a sad one.

‘’ I hope I didn’t wake you. ‘’ Your voice is small, vulnerable. ‘’ I- ‘’

I need your help. It hurts to say it, to even think about it, and you can’t get the words out. They get stuck in your throat with all the sorry’s you owe him, the apologies you never gave him. His eyes are soft on you, deep brown eyes that always made you feel at home. That is when he notices it, the blood on your bottom lip, a straight cut, already swollen and purple where the fist had hit. His shoulders push back, finally awake, and you know he is ready to fight. You can tell his arms are tensing underneath his shirt, you can see how hard his gaze has become.

‘’ Who did this to you? ‘’

He takes a step towards you, towering over you, his hand moving your jaw to the side to try and see it better in the low light.

‘’ I took care of it, ‘’ You sigh. ‘’, but I need a favour. A big one, Gil. ‘’

You hesitate to tell him, to ask him to do this with you, for you. You know what he has been doing since he got back, joining the not-so-legal motorcycle club. Something about it being the closest it felt to being back in the field. It had been your lives for so long, breathing it, fighting for it, day and night, every second of it.

‘’ Tell me. ‘’

You can smell the detergent from his clothes, taste on your tongue what is left of the cigarette he had before bed. His hand is warm against your cheek, a nice contrast from the cold night. His thumb is caressing beneath your jaw, where the skin hasn’t bruised yet, and you can’t recall the last time you had been touched like this, slow, meaningful. You had missed this, him.

You take a quick look in the dark living room, past his shoulder, maybe he is not alone like you originally thought. You know Rae and Jacob haven’t been staying at their home lately, and Paul had told you that she had stayed a couple of nights at Gil’s. They must still be in the house when he gently presses you a few steps back, closing the door behind him. You really want to believe that it’s because of them, that he does this to keep their minds at ease, not to worry them about what mess you got yourself into this time. You don’t want to believe it might be because of someone else, that maybe he has someone now, someone he didn’t tell you about. He speaks again, gently coaxing it out of you.

‘’ You’re good, I got you. Tell me. ‘’

‘’ I took care of it, ‘’ You continue. Of him. ‘’ He’s in the trunk. ‘’

‘’ He’s in the what, now? ‘’

His hand falls from your jaw, landing in a strong grip where your neck meets the shoulder. It is not meant to hurt, and it doesn’t, you know it is mostly to keep you here, keep you from running away like you usually do. You know he would never let you deal with this on your own, you can’t turn around now, you have to face this.

‘’ I put him in the- ‘’

‘’ The trunk, yeah, I got that. ‘’

You swallow, and it doesn’t feel natural, like your muscles are clenching too hard to make the action happen. You bring a gentle hand to his forearm, taking in the heat that immediately covers your fingertips, the softness of the black shirt under your palm. You look back at him.

‘’ He deserved it, I swear. Gil, I- ‘’ Fuck.

You know there are tears in your eyes, you can’t help it. This whole thing makes you feel like a child, like you just got back from Iraq. You had always been able to be vulnerable with him, he would listen and listen until you had nothing to say anymore, nothing left to cry. A warm hand on your back, fingers in your hair.

‘’ Hey. I’ll take care of this. I know he did. ‘’

You know he doesn’t get it today, he couldn’t possibly, but you let him say it, let it justify your action, the blood that is still drying under your nails.

‘’ Let me make a few calls, okay? ‘’

You nod. You trust him, utterly and completely, with your safety, your life.

And so the both of you wait, seated shoulder to shoulder on the stairs of his porch. Gil's hand is warm on your knee, caressing the skin that peeks out of your distressed jeans. He wants you to stop bouncing your leg, you know it, it has always bothered him, how your stress showed up in micro-movements. You're making me nervous, ranger.

They come for your car fifteen minutes later, all leather cuts, no motorcycles and a single van. Coco, he tells you his name as he asks for your car keys. When you give it to him with a shaking hand, he tells you that everything is going to be fine, they'll take care of it. You believe him, you believe him because you trust Gil and he trusts them, but still, it feels like you are imposing, even when you know they have probably done this many times before.

Coco looks at Gil, a silent conversation you are not a part of, he notices his hand on your thigh, your busted lip.

‘’ We’re taking care of this, cariño. You're safe now. ‘’ Coco tells you.

You want to believe him, you really do. They leave after that, one car following the other, your secret with them. Yours and Gil's and theirs.

‘’ Don’t make a habit of this. ‘’

Gil’s eyes are back on you. He is joking, and it's funny, you laugh, but it doesn't come out like you want, choked in the throat.

‘’ I'm sorry, Gil. I know we haven't been talking much lately. I- ’’

He stops you, a large hand pressing the skin of your thigh.

‘’ Stop it. Whatever you need, you call, I'll answer. ‘’

You sigh and you allow your head to fall to his shoulder. You can’t remember the last time you had been this close, but it feels like you never left, a random night in a world where none of this would have happened. You thank him because there are no other words to make this right. You want to tell him that you owe him, that you will repent until this debt is paid, until he says you did enough to earn it back. His nose is in your hair and you can feel his chest move up and down with every breath. It had never been about that with him, he always took what you gave, broken pieces, burning ashes, wrapping it all up and giving it back to you fixed. You don’t remember when you started crying, silently sobbing against his arm, but he doesn’t mention it. He holds you, caressing your back with a hand, bringing you closer with the other one.

‘’ Stay with me tonight. ‘’ He whispers in your hair, ‘’ I won’t be able to sleep if you don’t. ‘’

That makes you cry harder. Deep inside of you, something is being fixed, an old war wound that had been buried for so long. I will, you tell him, just for tonight.

He doesn’t believe you, he knows you will get up from the bed the second he falls asleep, take your car that now smells like bleach and citrus, and ride out into the morning, away from him once again. When he rolls to your side of the bed in the morning, finding it cold and empty, he knew he was right. He was used to it, of course, a weird, silent arrangement between you two, that you would never be able to stay put for too long, but today, it hurts, pains him in a way it had never before.

‘’ ‘morning. ‘’

You pass the bathroom door that connects directly to his bedroom. Your hair is still damp from the shower, wearing a new set of his clothes on your back. He doesn’t say it back, he can’t, not when he suddenly doesn’t remember how to breathe, not when he can’t believe you actually stayed the night this time. You are here, and he is staring, he can’t look away.

‘’ I hope I didn’t wake you up. ‘’ You begin, ‘’ I just really wanted a shower, and then I heard Jacob in the kitchen, I… ‘’

You stop then, and he can tell that you have realized too, what he is thinking, why his eyes can leave your form. You try to speak again and explain, anything, but it doesn’t come out. Maybe there is no reason why today you chose to stay, out of all the others you could have. He can hear Rae in the living room, the sound of pans and the french toast that is being cooked in the kitchen. You silently walk to his side of the bed, offering him your hand. You smell like his soap and fresh coffee. He takes a deep breath as he reaches up for your palm, fingers lacing with your own as you finally swallow the lump in your throat.

‘’ Just for today then, yeah? ‘’

Your eyes are soft when he looks up, your smile meeting his own, already bright, unable to stop it from hurting his cheeks. Of course, he says, just for today. As many as you would like.

[jovianjournal]

March 2024

Should i just do one big post for novels and comics at the same time? Anyway, here's the novels i read in march, mostly SFF plus one romcom

Uprooted -- Naomi Novik, French translation by Benjamin Kuntzer

A young woman is sent to the local wizard's tower as a yearly tribute (or something like that) where she learns magic and try to discover why the forest is being weird. Very long and frankly a little boring, i had pretty high expectations and i was a bit disappointed. At first it seemed right up my alley, there were some blue beard, dark fantasy vibes... that kind of went nowhere tbh. most of the characters are extremely annoying (although i did like Agniezka as a protagonist! and her friend Kasia. it could have been gay... it should have been gay!!) and the plot felt stretched out for no reason. But i did enjoy the old folk tale aesthetic, the magic system based around rhymes was beautiful.

*

A Study in Drowning -- Ava Reid

A college student is sent to a crumbling mansion by the sea for an architecture project, alongside her academic rival, mystery ensues. The vibes were perfect, the rising sea, the damp air, the raging storm, water everywhere. I have one complain tho: I spent the Whole Goddamn Book SCREAMING at the characters "why aren't you checking this One Thing???" and as soon as they did check this one thing the mystery was resolved. so that was a little annoying.

Overall I really liked this book, i'd recommend it if you're into Dark Academia, A House as A Character, and metaphors about sexist and sexual violence. Also the writing is really pretty! i want to read other books by this author.

*

The Mars House -- Natasha Pulley

disclaimer: i love Natasha Pulley So. Much. she is probably my fav author currently, and i am very aware that she tends to always write the same book, but listen : i am autistic and i like knowing what im getting into and knowing that im going to like a story before investing the time in it.

That Being Said, i have two and a half pages of notes in my journal that boil down to "i didn't like this book as much as i hoped :/". This is a sci-fi story about immigration and xenophobia where one of the main character is a martian right-wing politician and also there's some Gender Stuff in martian society that felt a little terfy? (which is weird bc basically in this book Martian society has Abolished Gender). I still adored this book! i'd wholeheartedly recommend it! the writing is spectacular, i loved the characters, the worldbuilding is super interesting, there's fun tragic irony where you know what's going on while the characters don't, there's fricking Mammoths. Read it, and then read The Watchmaker of FIligree Street, and then read the Kingdoms, and then read all of her other books.

*

Ariah -- B. R. Sanders

I don't know how to describe this book. A 400-page character study about a Pretty Annoying Guy? I think i picked it up bc i was looking for books with polyam relationships and that's why i powered all the way through it. I actually don't remember much about the plot. It's a high fantasy story, the main character has mind powers he has trouble controlling, he's kind of a dick to his lovers, every time something important happens the narration completely glosses over it. Reading over my notes, i did like the last part of the story, and the happy end felt deserved. don't have much more to say.

*

Rosaline Palmer Takes the Cake -- Alexis Hall

Alexis Hall is another one of my comfort authors, im slowly getting through their bibliography. this one was okay! it's a great british bake off fan fiction, it was fun (but not as good as the Stucky fanfic). good banter, tropey plot. averages to and okay book.

[cassiartblog]

Thoughts on Belial? Idk why his depiction varies so goddamn much by art source

Hello Anon :D

Oh this is tricky... I was thinking about that a lot and looked up different sources.. The Pathfinder version isn't bad but I don't really see him like half devil half angel. But he is described as a handsome devil (in dnd lore) and before Mephi took a more devilish appearance, Belial was the most devil-looking-like 🤔 so I don't really see the angel part like in Pathfinder (but it's an interesting concept tho).

As I said he is described as handsome and is one of the more kinkier devils.. So the version that pops up when I Google him isn't really fitting it (not really handsome in any kind in my opinion)

Since his daughter is described as a more succubus looking devil, I would guess Belial looks close to an incubus, just without the wings. His description says his skin is black to red, I guess it's a darker red tone (the middle between black and red), black hair, maybe tied back lazily (like Zevlor wears his hair I could imagine or longer hair), muscular, wears leather, a pair of big horn on his forehead (maybe adding a little pair of horns between them or on the side of them), long tail, claws, a seductionly look on his face, 3-days-beard, red eyes, a sharp face but not too sharp and he is smart so maybe that should be somehow visible in the way he carries himself.... That is kinda the way I would interpret his appearance, because I think the versions that exists don't fit the description of dnd lore and isn't really handsome as well.

Maybe I will work out my interpretation of him and draw him sometime. He is a very interesting archdevil afterall.

Thanks for the question, it really got me thinking. Have a devilish good day ^^

[1moreoffkeyanthem]

my wife my life, i have ojv brainrot -- will you please go into crazy amount of detail about what the style boys look like to you in the ojv? what kind of outfits they like to wear? comfort sweaters/shirts? <3 also i love you i am waving $50s and shouting louder than everyone else to be noticed i'm the ride or die bi disaster ojc kenny of the irl

ASHFVGKKVHLJK MY DARLING WIFE HI AND FUCK YEAH!!!!! Helllll yes!!! Ok ok I’m bouta go *rm Jersey voice* AWF!! (This is gonna be so long im sorry)

So OrangeJuiceVerse style my BELOVEDS!!! Ohhhhh my god these two own my entire goddamn soul! And smh they’re so pretty in their own right!!!

OJV Stan… he is a fucking stereotypical DREAM MAN! Kyle is down astronomically bad. Like I’m talkin tall dark and handsome, total sweetheart, inherently boyish charm that just makes everyone adore him! His heart of gold and that deep melancholy he sometimes gets behind those sapphire eyes make him all the more alluring! So this is what our affable Everyman looks like to me:

He is TALL (hit his last growth spurt between sophomore and junior year), like tops off at a lil over 6’2 and is the second tallest of the ojverse Star Seven also he’s BUILT AS HELL?!? In high school his physique could be attributed to the myriad of physically demanding hobbies he cycled through (football in particular when he started dreaming of going pro rip to that) and work on Randy’s Fuckass Farm (fuck u randy). But when he’s older he gets softer, sure (best pillow ever) but keeps working out JUST so he can hold every animal ever like a BABY!!! If you want an approximate art reference of young adult OJV Stan, @bunytime ’s drawings on here for SURE! Like he is tall and strong and BUILT FOR HUGS!!!

Blue blue BLUE eyes like not scary stare into your soul but this soft deep shade that reminds you of calm waters and gemstones peeking from the depths of the shadows of his brows. Just gentle waves and clear dusk light.

Ojv Stan didn’t go through the ever popular bleached hair headcanon, most of my Stans didn’t, but this one bc on the brink of a SadSack episode he mentioned getting Kenny to pierce his ears and dye his hair and (this was before they were dating) Kyle was like NO!!! Bc he always loved Stan’s classic all american look and knows him well enough to know that he would’ve hated it a few days later.

DIMPLES!! TWO OF EM!! And his smile is SO sweet his whole face splits omg my sweet boy!!! And he has tiny, almost imperceptible random scars in various places from childhood tomfoolery, especially on his hands bc he sometimes rivals Kenny in recklessness, and those hands are so rough but so TENDER when they touch you and he’s so aware of his own size and inherent ruggedness that completely juxtaposes his personality and it’s so!!! (God forgive me I’m thinking about nsfw ojv style hcs now)

Aight so OJV Stan IS greasy to some extent, c’mon he’s very Boy, but (this is important) only when he’s having a rough time mentally. Like he’s one of those people where while his horrendous lack of style doesn’t change much, you can tell by the stubble and the gross hair when he’s not doing well. Uhhh later down the timeline he has a beard tho. The bear jokes definitely emerge.

And for his style choices ohhhhh my god this man CANNOT fuckin dress!!! I’m constantly putting ojverse Stan in my clothes bc WHAT is this guy doing wearing the “Bigfoot is real I made s’mores with him” shirt and he is GENUINELY confused when he can’t wear jeans to something formal. His socks are STUPID and GIMMICKY and never match, and his wallet has a million keychains HIS BACKPACK omg like every stereotypical veggie boy he has alll the vegan loser pins and patches. Animal activist Stan forever.

A very casual dresser tbh, t shirts and jeans, sweatpants, hoodies (that have mostly been confiscated by Kyle) like he truly sucks at clothes unless he’s going stupid abt a Halloween costume. He kinda relies on Ky to know what looks good on him irl, bc Kyle is VERY reactive when he’s dressed a certain way and Kyle climbing him= ah yes I look Not Disheveled right to jail for both of them.

Oh KYLE!!! From Stan’s pov??? OJV Stan is a huge fucking fantasy loser and he only knows the word “ethereal” bc he’s a nerd and it describes Kyle. On GOD OJV Kyle is so pretty!!! Like Stanley Down Bad Marsh is ENTHRALLED!!! Always, like since he knew what beauty was, beauty was Kyle.

Ojverse Kyle keeps his hair a little past his shoulders since like freshman year of high school, his HAIRRRRR lord those gorgeous red curls, Stan simply cannot get enough of them, that ponytail, the half bun, the little braids Marj used to do when she and Ky would hang solo… dear god Stan will not shut up about his beautiful elf kings hair. Like hair wise if u want a reference picture the homie @grimsbane ‘s long hair Kyle EXEPT

My guy, OJV Kyle is TINY. Not as short as Kenny and Tweek, but close and definitely skinny to the point where if he misses a meal EVERYONE is on his bony ass bc 1) diabetes and 2) they all know his past with eds and no one’s gonna let that shit get its claws on him again! Unfortunately, OJV Kyle has a really hard time gaining weight, but as an adult he’s fully recovered, just kinda slim and at risk of health problems from the damage he did, but he’s mostly ok.

Ky topped off at 5’7 and was the tallest of the m5 in 7th grade and then EVERYONE but Kenny surpassed him WHICH he was pissed abt for a while. But he kinda stopped caring once he and Stan got together bc Stan wasn’t thattt much taller at first (and then this mf got huge) but Kyle was… VERY INTO THAT! It’s so unserious bc when they’re older Kyle’s like dude just fuckin toss me around and Stan WILL NOT because he’s NERVOUS and also traumatized from the ONE time he reinjured Kyle’s bad knee during Super Best Spicy Time (yes that’s what his loser ass named the sex playlist) but when Ky gets in the mood he wants to be manhandled frfr (I will do a nsfw headcanon post prolly) like the SIZE DIFFERENCE kyle is so spicy 100% calls the shots out here climbin Staniel like a tree.

He’s pale as fuck, cannot tan at allll this dude will not go outside without sunscreen bc he IS Sheila’s son and had it drilled into him that they are pale redheads and uv rays are not their friend, BUT his freckles are faint and so prettttttyyyyy he doesn’t even hate them bc Stan loves them and Kyle loves Stan (losers) he’s got a little group of them on his left cheekbone that Stan INSISTS looks like a heart aaaaaaaaaa

Good lord those eyes. Like you look into them and you are LOST in the most beautiful woods you have ever SEEN!!! I’m serious his eyes look like a forest, green and threaded with occasional brown like tree trunks and they are MAGNETIC!!! He is POINTY too like his features are sharp but his eyes are comfortable and it’s just a beautiful balance.

I’m fully of the belief that this lil redhead is a CHRONIC CLOTHES STEALER!!! Sneaky lil fox like if he’s comfy at home he’s 100% wearing Stan’s lame ass “earth day 2013” hoodie or some shit BUT!!!

His actual clothing is VERY much hot professional dark academia vibes the sweaters, the reading glasses, that hair, like he’s so cute in his button ups and when he stops wearing cargo pants so much in college (man likes pockets change my mind) Stan is SALIVATING bc he can see the sbf’s lithe legs better and he wants to SNAG him smh down horrendous. Kyle wears a lotta green, bc we ginger losers know that’s our COLOR and he looks GORGEOUS in jewel tones what a PRETTY BOY!!! Favorite item of clothing is DEFINITELY Stan’s Peace Love Pine Trees hoodie!!!

They do have friendship (lovers) bracelets that Kenny made them btw

Ok I THINK that’s what I got for now on what they look like but lord knows I’ll probably be more insane later NINA MY BELOVED WIFE THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS

[mllebabushkat]

☀️ Warrior Nun S2E6 🌙

PSA: i didn't survive this ep lakdsj;gjaskjda

haha my whiplash from Confusion to OH OH YOUNG SUZANNE

AND SHANNON

(wow i missed her and i barely knew her T^T)

so either shannon's older than i expected or superion is younger than i expected???

but more importantly

superion's halo is SO POWERFUL?????

she's got that a) touch of death palm technique Lite Version AND b) nifty overwatch lookin shield scuse me ava when will you

once again OST SLAPS

SHE IS SO BADASS!!,!,!,’cbnncbdbdbfj also cocky hahaha i love her

this fight's fave move: double neck skewer!

firstly, halo rejecting looks GNARLY

secondly, w h y (grief? fully drained? it somehow knew she failed to protect someone due to her own ego? severity of her own moral failing? i want. answers)

The PRIDE in bea’s look as ava talks 🤩 i am hanging on to every single avatrice interaction for my liFE

cam trying to summon the boogeyman is the horror trope i didn't know i needed ahahaha

MICHAEL'S GOT A NUKE tony stark lookin ass

"we are not both dying over some interdimensional power grab" u tell em!!!!1 (such a frustrating and common trope, why must the hero always be the sacrificial lamb for some lofty goal?)

yo that is one DIRTY look bea gave him tho lmfao

on today's episode of bullying william: "foster" what a dumb name L u delusional little shit

cut to vincent el bastardo

"and we shall contact god by text" the ABSURDITY PFFF

*what's in the box voice* what did adriel sayyyyyy????

obligatory fuck off adriel

picking out tmrws outfit slay boyo 🤡💁‍♀️is it me or does he look like Hugh Jackman with that new beard

back to the blessed blorbos!

team super cam aw <3

OH NO U DONT TOUCH HER GIRL LIKE THAT

protective!bea i'm swooningg

journalist!yasmine is so cuteeee

CAMILLA UR CHASTITY HAHAHAHAHHAA

clutching my pearls but also yes girliE GET SOMEEEEEEEE

is that the fuckin,, lalisa sonf? v hype but ngl doesn't fuuully fit the scene But i'll let it slide :)

“well then warrior nun, see you on the other side” 😍😍

you tell me that won't be one of her affectionate nicknames once they settle down and have their happily ever after i DARE you-

“do you know how i know that adriel isn't god, vincent? because he chose to speak to you” OUCHHHHHHHHHH

ok i'm calling it now that pointy cross is hanging Very Ominously over the stage,.,,

adriel choosing to mimic the medici’s bastardised image of Jesus the irony is not lost on me :)

so uhhhhhh why does the halo only sputter out at plot relevant moments? *shakes writers in frustration*

LILITHS TEETH VAGINA COSTUME

i'm so sorry but lilith girl they did u so fucking dirty wtf is this shitty look costumes dept u were doing so wellllll TAT

oh dear ava 🥺

yall there’s nothing that hurts me more than a well laid plan going wrong

lilith hurtling off the roof - HAHAHAHAHA YEET BITCH

where tf was ava hiding her helmet???? up her-?

kristian: “let it go” ah ofc they planned for this

insert it’s a trap !!!!!!!! meme

i can’t watch thissssssddsddd

oh boy the cross tip hanging ever lower like the sword of Damocles

I CALLED IT

nooooo rest in pieces duretti shdhdhajahgdhd

jesus that's brutal,, gnarly counter: 2

michael: "god isn’t real" maybe the true message all along was atheism :)

CAMILLA AND HER GUNNNNNN BIG BRAINNNNNN

AVA DESCENDING LIKE THE REAL ANGEL SHE IS

vincent seeing her-

lilith ex machina swooping in-

OK MICHAEL GOT A STAB IN gnarly counter: 3 (once again loving the gore this season !)

BOTH ava and michael choosing to sacrifice themselves in that moment PLS NO

ooh love the millisecond yellow sheen on adriels eyes

sister ARMS- sorry- i meant sister dora HELLO THERE

“come on pretty boy” ahahshdhdksjagahaha bea ily

back at base

ok fess up who's the goddamn snitch

(small eyeroll at the 'oops i destroyed the macguffin detonator' trope)

SUPERION NO

NO

NO

(did she die ????)

never has a cross been so hateful as the one drawn in blood fuck you william u little dipshit

SUPERION NO 😭😭😭😭

did lilith just save ava by teleporting her

jahdkclcpsjsxnxoxmxnsiskncc

this episode took my heart and shredded it in a meat grinder

superion has shot up my favourites list this season and for her to end like that-

and duretti!

but mostly superion TAT i'm suing for her And mary >:(((

ANYWAY

not keeping calm and carrying on-

[genderfluideadpool]

just rantin cause i dont have anyone else to tell this too but

testosteone is literally the best thing that ever happened to me i love it so fucking much like i knew i was gonna be happy with the results but goddamn i was not expecting to be so happy and the changed happened so fastly and i am so happy. its only been like 5 months

my voice is deeper, i smell all stinky like a dude, im hungry as fuck all the time, ive got hella acne, especially on my chest and back and face, but over all im so hairy like a freakin werewolf. being on t is so werewolf transformation core. im still waitin on my beard tho so😔

[suicideandcheese]

I Just Want You Around

My domain is a window open to the soul You got to understand it is a vortex of love You do not underestimate, you do not dare Fuck with. Share in me your wrongs, you Are right, and real, and really, and finally, you Can spend the night; dominion is yours. Hold through, hold on, present yourself Accordingly, the gods will abliss or abyss. I've learned to authenticate my shadow With my heart. It's an everest of arts. Tho I am let to believe, I am still this of another. Our simple hates resolved with pizza. Brother, friend, sister, mother, other, I said Other. Tomato sauce and cheese and this Is just a dream you call 2023, I'm still 96. Forever 1985, you fuck me up, I say my Goodbyes, and keep on finding dooming ways To fucking be here, now. Look at me, bearded, Real, eyes intent on damned gods, goddamn. Ever mount an everest? Everest be damned. You mount yourself to breath and right this Now. Right this, escapee, right this earthen Abyss. They're making it less and less and I Cannot cry anymore, their oil is the cyst. Cancers are so beautiful when they insist. On the right deaths, this Earthen blessed. They'll take my family and I'll resist. Like you, like you, resist. But remain Present until the film ends. Play yours. Parts are impressed upon our hearts. The arts are our fortitudes, familiations. You're more than the DNA encrypted. You're divinities damned to tell a story, cry The world over, its breath, its death-nigh. Its rapture, its capture beyond the cataclysms. Its cancers, its viruses, its unrealities, its Unidentified phenomena. They're under the Sea. See? I see you burning one, me too. Take a script, take nothing, take it all. I'm your friend, I'm your damned, I'm us Goddamned. Our mothers in hospitals be Understand, life goes ill, hell, I'm until, you Wanna go again, god to god, I've got my everlasts. Let's go misters, gods, jesters, cancers, damns. Take you on like my fucken twenties again. Let's go, let's fucking show gods again the hells We create are the ones we fight to fuck you for. Fucker. I said you're a fucker, fucker. The fuck off her. Now. Now. I don't wanna let you down, Mom. Never.