#i'M SCREAAAAAMING

[aaternum]

𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒅𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒃𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒅?

𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠

we all need someone sometimes, and you often don't feel like you are worth someone remaining. you are, though. i know that you crave for someone to be there and rest their hand against your back during the bad times. for a loving voice to lull you to sleep with a cadence of compassion and a desire to remain. you just want someone to remain. through and past the bad parts when you know it is difficult. you want to fall asleep to their voice and wake up to them still there in the morning. you want them to know the way that you take your tea and keep a box of your favorite flavor in their pantry in case you have a bad night and need to come over. you want to trust someone enough to give them a key to your house. and you deserve it, love. you deserve for someone to linger. you deserve to place your trust in another and know that they'll help you brush your hair if you're just too tired. you deserve for someone to remain.

tagged by: @unladielike (blowing u a smooch thank youuuu) tagging: @crimsontroupe (adonia), @kesil (faust), @thornicidxs, @thronelessking (aislin + vanya), @untoterxhund, @phantasmaw (chaewon), @heartsbloomed (yurika), @finstcrnis (yuna), @generalzelgius, @vocalcords, @box-of-characters (wisteria), @noircisaint, @nezumivc103221, @martyrdome, @ninjassin

[ghostsxagain]

@ssvperboy asked: 🍾 + d'you... wanna move in together? (skate & grace fkdhda)

Grace has had entirely too much to drink, that much is obvious. She's wobbly, she feels warm (despite Skate's insistence that no, it's not too hot in there), and she can't stop yapping. Once upon a time Grace swore she wouldn't ever get drunk again, she was too afraid. Skate was her safety net though. She knew in his company that nothing bad would happen to her - he'd protect her with everything in him. So she let go, finally comfortable enough to be young and foolish with the man she loved.

Then he asks her the question of all questions. Grace immediately loses her train of thought, whatever it was, and stares at him. "Wait, what?" For the first time all night, she's completely speechless with no idea what to say. Her mouth opens and closes, her lips curve around silent words. It's completely pathetic and definitely not the reaction he deserves. So Grace tries her damn best to find a shred of her prowess for the English language in order to give him something.

"You really wanna do that? With me? We'd be together every day, you know that, right? Like, we're eating breakfast together! I can make us eggs and bacon and coffee before I go to work. And we get to come home to each other, on good days and the bad ones. Oh god, I'm not perfect all the time, Skate. I get into, like, sad bubbles, and I won't be able to hide it from you if we're together... That's good, right? Yeah, yeah! It's definitely good... you're good. You're great, even. Maybe even perfect... Yes! Yes I totally want to move in together!" It's not exactly eloquent but it's honest and that counts for something. Grace forgets that she has a glass in her hand as she launches herself into Skate's arms, dropping it on the couch as her arms wrap around him. She's too happy to care about the mess, for now, at least.

[tiedtomybrain]

I AM COMPLETELY NORMAL ABOUT THE DEMOS

[smallboyonherbike]

it's always too late 🫠🫠🫠

[scentofdriedflowers]

Amanda Rollins is not only coming back to me for two episodes, but she is coming back pregnant with Sonny Carisi’s baby. I’m actually weeping. 

How did we take the biggest L ever and still manage to win??

[iisthings]

thoughts on deadpool and wolverine?

LOVE IT MORE THAN WORDS CAN EXPRESS!

Horrible spoiler free review that no-one asked for but I'mdoing anyway because I'm delirious and sleep deprived:

- fun action scenes

- banging soundtrack

- so much homoerotic tension

- the cameos were kinda eh to HOLY SHIT 8 YEAR OLD ME IS SCREAAAAAMING

- definitely not for 12/13 year olds I can tell you that

- somehow they managed to put a sex scene in without putting a sex scene in

It's impressive really

- < Hugh Jackman 3

- this better be the direction Marvel is going in forever because I won't be able to handle it otherwise

Anyway don't try to sneak into the theatre if you're too young and wanna see the film, it's super annoying for everyone working there

Piracy Arrr!

[nezuscribe]

just saw your arranged marriage gojo works AND IM SCREAAAAAMING :333 they are so well written and my heart clenched as i read them, thank you so much for writing like ❤️🙏🏽

AHHH TY SM!! it's been a while since I've actually written angst so I'm really excited abt this series

[songbird-sunrise]

!!you don't have to respond to this!!

this is completely OOC

I hope you know this account brings me and my system a ton of comfort- you act a lot like some of our system relationships and bring comfort to those frontstuck(esp our Quackity- he loves just scrolling through your acc because our wilbur is dormant rn) and i just.. felt like you deserved to know that

OOC: SCREAAAAAMS THIS IS SO SWEET AND NICEY!!!! I'm so glad my silly little roleplay blog has resonated w so many people, systems in particular. As a system myself (shoutout to my co-host for helping me write a lot of this blog!), it's rlly important to me that we're able to provide comfort to other systems. Smile 💜💜💜💜

[witchwhaat]

HOLY SHIT

fuck this, i'm going to watch atsv tonight

[colemorrison]

Sorry this is a really short one, I'm leaving for a trip soon. But here's another gift for you ♡

No proof reading we die like Genji

There are some things in life that Dads are expected to do. Care for their kids, provide for them, do everything they can to protect them and their future.

Jack thought for the longest time that the best way to protect your future was to fight for it. Join the military, survive SEP, kill omnics, start overwatch. Make a thousand choices all for the sake of his kid. His son. You. Jack Morrison would do anything to grant you a good future. You deserved a good future.

But the golden man of overwatch is a long decade statue. And the hardened soldier 76 remains in the shadows of a long dead glory. But the work he does now is far more important. Sitting on the floor, you in his lap, his arms tight around your torso. Your hands gripping his shirt as you empty your sobs into his chest.

The fear, numbness, anger, despair, stress and anxiety. They've found you again. When Jack came home... the state you were in... He squeezes you tighter. Crushing you against himself. Desperate to... to... shield you? Squeeze the despair out of you? Help you feel grounded? Anything, everything, something to help you. He can't lose you. Not to this. Not to anything.

"I love you, Cole. I love you. You are an amazing son. No matter what your mind says. No matter how you feel. You mean everything to me. You deserve to live. Deserve a good future. Please... please know you aren't the scars the past gave you."

He's rambling and... fuck his own tears are dripping down his nose into your hair.

"Keep fighting for tomorrow... I... don't want to lose my son, Cole."

He keeps rambling for- God knows how long. But his heart nearly stops when you slowly go limp in his hold. Until he realizes you finally fell asleep. Honestly, he almost considers just, leaning back and sleeping on the floor with you on top of him. But his back wouldn't survive. So careful as he can, he lifts you up and stands. Taking you to bed and laying you down. He can't get your hands off his shirt (not that he tries hard), so he realizes he'll just have to crawl in with you.

It brings a smile the way you still cozy up to him, just like when you were a little tot. He can't help but lean forward to kiss the top of your head.

"I love you, son."

THE DADDY ISSUES ARE SCREAAAAAMING

"Please... please know you aren't the scars the past gave you."

this will stick with me for my entire life oh my god

[khaleesiofalicante]

I HAVE SO MANY THOUGHTS JUST LOOKING AT THE PREVIEW POST

THE SONG REC AS JEALOUS MADE ME SCREAAAAAM

David REACHING OUT for max and he’s turned away AUGUHHHHH

and the im proud of you reminds me of magnus and Alec telling each other that in that on tlnd scene 🥲I could cry

I'm kinda proud of that poster ngl 🙊

[processinggoodomens2]

not. yet.

I'm screaaaaaming - where are my fanfic authors?!

This is deeply comforting to me. It’s not “wait and see”. It’s “not yet.” It will happen. They will have a happy ending, and live in a little cottage in South Downs together 🫶

[femvaylin]

Screaaaaaming cause I wrote like 200 words for the first time in ages and lost it because I'm an idiot

[seacottons]

[barcaavengers]

SOMEBODY EXPLAIN WHY 90% OF THOMAS' CHARACTERS DIE FOR FUCKS SAKE!

I WAS HERE CHEERING ALL "GIVE THEM HELL!" WHEN HE WAS WITH HIS PISTOLS AND THEN A FUCKING KNIFE IN HIS CHEST MAN

A KNIFE

LIKE NEWT

WHY MAN

[amywritesthings]

This fic has literally some of my favorite tropes and the way that you catagorize the reader and Joel's relationship I'm going to SCREAAAAAM THE SMUT WAS IMMACULATE I FEEL LIKE I NEED SEVEN COLD SHOWERS AND ALSO SOMETHING SWEET BECAUSE THE LAST TWO LINES WERE SO DAMN CUTE YET THIS WHOLE FIC WAS HOT, HELP

bloody knuckles - joel miller x fem!reader

summary: you come home injured, and Joel has something to say about it.

word count: 2.2k

warnings: MY BLOG IS 18+, MINORS DNI, swearing, mentions of injuries/canon-typical violence, spoilers for the show, heavily inspired by joel’s reaction to tess (iykyk), oral (f receiving), brief spanking, a bit of manhandling, unprotected p-in-v (WRAP UR SHIT IN THE APOCALYPSE FAM), I have joel miller brain rot and I regret nothing

(could be read as part of the fire + whiskey universe, but can still be enjoyed regardless)

✨I no longer have a taglist - please follow @friskito-library and turn on notifs to be notified of new fics!✨

He’s asleep, when your key hits the lock.

It depends on the day, lately, what you get when you manage to find your way back to the apartment. Every day is different, a roulette wheel that doesn’t seem to let up. Some days, he’s still awake, poring over his maps at the scratched kitchen table, the bottle of hooch not far from his grip. Other times he’s pacing by the window, the radio a quiet whine, his hair yanked in a million different directions. Sometimes he’s not even home, and you’re the one left to wait up, or pass out on the couch trying to.

But today, he’s asleep.

Silently, you’re grateful. If he saw the state of you, he’d barrel right through the fucking door the moment you let slip who had hurt you. That’s how it is, these days, and that’s how you have to be, you know. But you can’t risk it. You can’t risk him.

The pipes rattle when you flick on the faucet, try and rinse some of the blood from your hands, wincing at your sore knuckles. It’s just past curfew, and light from the too-bright street lamps filters through the living room window, and you scour for a painkiller, tossing half of something back with a sip from the hooch bottle still on the table.

He doesn’t move until you’re perched on the edge of the bed, wrapping your hand with some gauze you pilfered from the pharmacy on your way back. There’s no words, at first, just the rough drag of his hand across the small of your back, a low grunt as he rolls toward you. You pull the shirt off, feeling his fingers rove up your spine, tapping over your bones.

You’re reaching for a new shirt — one of his stashed in the pile of semi-clean clothes — when he curls his finger under your bra, pulls you back a little. “C’mere,” he mumbles, and you let yourself fall back. He lets out a low oomph when you hit his chest. He’s fully clothed, even his boots still on. “Where y’been?”

“Nowhere important,” you reply, keeping your face pointedly away from him. You pull your legs up onto the mattress, sinking down beside him, your back brushing against his chest as you sprawl on the mattress. Instantly, he slips a knee between yours, slings his arm around your waist, hauls you closer. “You been sleeping all day?”

“Don’t change the subject, girlie,” he murmurs, low in your ear, and you just shake your head, silencing your wince, burrowing deeper into his embrace. “Couple hours. Long day.”

“Talk in the morning,” you reply, covering his hand with your undamaged one. “I’m tired too.”

He grunts in response, and that’s that.

Joel doesn’t wait until morning.

The sky is still dark when he’s shaking your shoulder, rousing you just on the edge of roughly, heavy eyelids blinking open to see him gripping your bandaged hand, the camping lantern on the makeshift beside table the only bit of light.

“Who.” Not a question.

“It’s nothing,” you start to say, rolling towards him out of instinct, reaching up to rub the sleep from your eye but then biting back a quiet cry when your face flares with pain. “I fell and it just—”

“Don’t bullshit me,” he snaps, and drops your hand, fingers either side of your jaw a moment later, turning your face towards him, towards the light, gently. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

“Joel, don’t—”

“No,” he spits, springing up off the mattress, crossing to the kitchen, finding a rag, putting a bit of the hooch on it. The closest you’ll get to antiseptic. “You’ve got a black fuckin’ eye. Tell me who. Now.”

“Why?” you ask, sitting up as he returns to the bed, kneeling on the edge, taking your jaw in his hand again. “So you can break curfew and get charged for disturbing the peace? They’re hanging people for less these days, Joel. I won’t…” You wince as he touches the rag to your split skin, swiping at the dried blood you’d half-heartedly wiped at. “I won’t let you.”

He goes quiet, jaw working, his brow furrowed so hard you can’t resist reaching out and smoothing your thumb along the line it makes in his forehead. “I want to know.”

“If I tell you, you need to stay,” you say, moving your thumb back and forth along his skin. “I need you to remember that you taught me how to protect myself, too.” The corner of your mouth quirks. “And the assholes that did this to me look much worse.”

His face softens slightly, and his brow slowly raises. You let your hand move lower, dragging your knuckles down to his scruffy jaw. “How much worse?”

“Pretty sure I broke the one guy’s nose,” you say, unable to stifle your smug grin when his eyes widen slightly. “And the other, well, he definitely won’t be using his hand anytime soon.”

He lowers the rag, tossing it to the side as you move a little closer, pushing back the blanket he’d draped over you. He just watches, lips softly parted, nostrils flaring as you get closer still, lifting your leg and sliding into his lap.

“You’re not the only attack dog in Boston,” you say quietly, and Joel huffs, hands finding homes on your hips as you run yours along his shoulders, up the back of his head, tangling in his hair. “I’m well-trained.”

“Girlie,” he grumbles out, almost a warning in his tone.

“What?” you murmur, feigning innocence. “You taught me. Saved my life. Kept me going. Keep me going.” You lean in, press your lips softly to one of the bare patches in his beard, the perfect shape for your mouth. “You remember the day we found each other again?”

He tilts his head back slightly, peering at you down his nose, his eyes darkening as he slips his hands up the hem of your shirt, seeking out bare skin. “O’course I do.”

“And that night, when you fucked me so good in that—”

The rest of the sentence dies on your tongue. He surges upward, claims your mouth for his own. You let him, tugging at his hair as he devours you. He tastes like hooch — he must have stolen a sip — and you drink it down like it’s the finest whiskey you’ve ever had, your tongue tangling with his, hips rolling down, the friction between you two making you both gasp.

In one fluid movement, he’s lifting the shirt over your head, letting his mouth map a trail down your chest, while you’re pawing at his shirt, nails dragging against buttons, scratching lightly at the exposed patch of skin at his collar. You moan when he pulls your bra out of the way, mouths at your nipple, scruffy jaw scraping sensitive skin.

Your back hits the mattress a minute later, and you automatically reach for his belt, letting your fingers glance across the bulge in his jeans, but he pushes your hands away. “Nuh-uh,” he grunts, and pulls both your legs over one shoulder, reaching for the waist of your leggings. “Lift.”

You do as you’re told, and the bundle of fabric goes flying a moment later. He doesn’t waste any time, grabbing your ankles in his hands, peeling your legs apart. You gasp, the air cold as it hits your skin, but before you have a chance to shiver, your knees are hooked over both his shoulders, thighs around his ears. He’s got one strong arm banded around your waist, keeping you off the mattress, and his other hand roves beneath, grabbing handfuls of your ass, squeezing, smoothing along your spine.

His tongue feels like fire, flicking at every single one of your nerves. It turns your blood to flame, white-hot pleasure that sinks through your limbs as he buries his mouth between your legs. His hand moves back to cup your ass again, giving you a quick spank before he’s grabbing your cheek, flesh pinched between his knuckles.

You bury one hand at the crown of his head, those grey-streaked curls wrapping around your fingers. When you tug, he hums against you, the vibrations making sparks shoot across your vision, and you lock your ankles together between his shoulder blades, keeping him hostage to your pleasure. He’s more than willing, dropping his jaw slightly, dipping his tongue straight into your very core.

“Joel,” you groan out, back arching when he spanks you again, fingers soothing the hot spot instantly. “Fucking christ. Fuck me, please?”

“Cum,” he commands, his voice gruff as he speaks the word into your cunt, lips shiny with your slick. Your spine prickles with anticipation, the coil in your gut growing tight as he moves his mouth up, draws your throbbing clit between his lips and sucks hard. “Cum, and I’ll give you my cock.”

You nearly whine, but then his hand dips, following the curve of your ass, thumb pressing between your folds, stroking at your entrance. Everything goes tight, the edges of your vision tinged black with the intensity, and you do as you’re told, cumming with a shout muffled on the back of your hand. He licks you through it, dropping your hips back to the mattress when you push at him, legs going wide as they slide off his shoulders.

Joel shuffles back slightly, giving you room to stretch out. His belt is undone in one swift move, jeans pushed around his hips and his cock springing free, hard and heavy. You watch, chest heaving as he takes himself in hand, leans over you just enough to drag his tip through your wetness. Your hands curl into fists in the blankets, thighs twitching around his hips, and he plants one hand beside your head, leaning over you completely.

You lift your hips off the bed, catching his cock at your entrance, and he groans, his forehead pressed against your temple, carefully avoiding your black eye. You both exhale deeply as he pushes all the way in, filling you to the hilt, lips pressing a sloppy kiss to you cheek as his hips roll down. Your knees bend up around his ribs, both hands back in his hair.

He goes slow, slow enough that you can feel every inch, every twitch in his muscles, hear every word that falls from his lips, every soft grunt and quiet groan. “Always feels so fuckin’ good,” he rasps, and you cheat your hand down his back, pushing his jeans lower so you can grab a handful of his ass. “Jesus fuckin’ christ.”

You’re chasing his every move, hips lifting in tandem with his. You squeeze your thighs, palms flattening against his ribs, bearing down on him best you can. His pace falters, a grunted girlie meeting your ears, and you take it as an opening, pushing at his shoulder until he topples onto the mattress, using the momentum to land you in his lap.

It changes the angle, forcing his cock against something devastating inside you, your head tipping back on your shoulders. He puts both hands on your hips, guiding you as you drag yourself along him, knees planted either side of him. You wanted to take control, but it’s faltering in an instant, the feeling of him just too fucking good.

Joel bands his arm around your shoulders when you chest meets his, burying his face in your neck. You feel him shift, knees coming until his thighs are pressed to the backs of yours, and your attempt at control is completely out the window. He hammers into you, knotting his fingers in your hair, and you howl as your second orgasm hits, flooding his cock, all but clawing at his shoulders as the pleasure rocks you.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he grits, legs shaking as he drives up into you. There’s a quick pause, your body jolted slightly upwards as he pulls out, curling his fingers around the base of his cock, fucking his hand until he cums hot against your ass. You force your lips against his, kissing him through his own orgasm, taking his bottom lip between your teeth when he groans, returning your kiss as soon as the sound finishes.

The entire apartment seems quiet, in the after. There’s silent groans from each of you, Joel shuffling to find a rag, wiping at your skin, you going to steal a sip of the hooch while he buckles his belt. You both redress, sliding your boots back on before sprawling on the mattress beside him. It’s habit, now, sleeping in your clothes, ready to go at a moment’s notice.

He opens his arms to you when you slide close, and you fit yourself against him, your head fitting under his chin, hooking a knee over his hip. He drops his jaw, presses a kiss to your forehead, grumbling quietly as you settle into his grip.

“Girlie,” he mumbles, dragging his scruffy chin over your head.

“Yeah?”

“I still wanna beat the shit out of those guys.”

You let out a little chuckle, burrowing deeper into his embrace, rubbing your hand up his side. “I know you do, baby.”