#im in love with them and they’re in love with each other

[strang3lov3]

Kitten Fur

Tommy takes a deep breath, groaning as his cock stirs in his denim. “S’just a big secret to keep,” he says. Tommy continues, “An’ I can keep quiet for ya, but I gotta know what’s in it for me, right? S’all I’m askin’.”

You can’t get anything past Joel, but that won’t stop you from trying.

Tags - one shot, smut, unprotected piv, creampies, uncle tommy blowjobs/facefucking, cum swallowing, cunnilingus, fingering, spanking/violence, Joel gets dark, then comforts you, cat scratches, wound care, coercion/manipulation/blackmail, dark/icky daddy themes, daddy kink, dark fluff, girthy legal age gap. 8.5k words. A/N - thanks for all the love and patience 🩷🫂 thank you L who edited, i love you sweet friend

The flowers are blooming nicely. 

In the spring, when the snow was all but melted, dirty and icy on the brown grass, you were depressed. It was still cold outside and there wasn’t much to do. Joel took you out to pick out some seeds, give you something to care for, to keep yourself busy. Touching soil - it’s good for a person, you know? 

You water Joel’s flowers first: roses, daisies, tulips, and his favorite, lilies. There are honey bees buzzing about, worms wiggling through the soil. You like your flowers better, your snapdragons and gardenias. You love how your honeysuckle smells, so sweet and sugary you could almost taste it. 

Joel joins you in your shared garden, wearing a gray t-shirt and some weathered jeans. His curls are combed back, and he looks handsome in the sunlight. He reaches up and pulls a birdfeeder off of the hook of a post that’s taller than you can reach and fills it with seed, then fills a hanging glass container with sugar water for the hummingbirds. 

Joel dampens a rag with some oil and runs it along the metal post, top to bottom, all the way up and down. 

“What’re you doing, Daddy?” 

“Tryin’ somethin’ out…” Joel puts the cap back on the bottle of oil. “Gonna see if this won’t keep away the goddamn squirrels.” 

“I like the squirrels.” 

“I know you do, Pumpkin, but they’re stealin’ all my birdseed.” 

You make a face. “Maybe I’ll put peanut butter out or something for them, then. So they don’t steal your birdseed.” 

“Oh, will ya?” Joel sounds less than impressed. The critters are giving you trouble too, snacking on your flowers you’ve worked so hard to grow. You don’t mind, though. It’s a joy to watch them frolic through the garden, chasing each other. You like seeing familiar faces, but your favorite part is seeing the babies. If you’re quiet, and if you’re lucky, you’ll catch glimpses of the sweet baby animals. 

Like you’re doing right now. Under the rocking swing you and Joel sway on is a little black kitten, hanging out all alone. It’s cleaning itself, pink tongue darting out to lick its paw before swiping it over its ears. “Joel - Daddy,” you hiss urgently, tugging on Joel’s shirt. 

“What is it, Punk’n?”

“Shh.” Joel makes a face in mock offense that disappears when you point to the kitten, and then he tilts his head. “Ahh. Kitty cat, huh?” 

“Mhm. Can we bring it inside?” 

Joel sighs. “No, sweetheart.” 

Ouch. He’s inspecting his work, considering if petroleum jelly might be a better move. Those fuckers are crafty. “Hon, do we still have some Vasel - oh, don’t you give me that look.”

You cross your arms and raise your eyebrows. “M’not giving you a look.” 

Joel knows better than to get into an argument with you about whether or not you’re giving him a “look”. He’s learned to pick and choose his battles with you, and he’ll gladly lose that one, but this one, absolutely not. 

“Honey, he’s probably got worms an’ fleas and whatnot. He can’t come inside, baby.” 

“But it’s hot out,” you argue. “And - he’s black.”

“Look at ‘im,” Joel says, pointing to the kitten, which is now laying in a shady patch of dirt. “He’s coolin’ off in the shade. He’s alright, sweet pea. Look - why don’t ya go an’ play with him, okay? Tell him ‘bout what a mean old man I am. I’m gonna go make us some lunch.” 

“I’m really not hungry.” 

“Ya really are,” Joel says, parroting your tone. He gives your shoulder two quick squeezes and heads inside to make you both some sandwiches, give you some time to spook the kitten and get your mind un-addled from this thing before you’re in too deep. He hopes that this stray will keep its distance from you, letting you know itself that it wants nothing to do with you. Tough love, Pumpkin.

You approach the kitten slowly, who looks defensive at first. Eyes all wide and alert, on edge. You sit down gently, careful not to make any sudden movements, and hold out your hand for the kitten to sniff. You wonder what it is. Joel kept calling it a he. 

The kitten sniffs you cautiously, tickling your skin with its quick little breaths. It seems to approve of you and rubs its cheek along your finger, tail curling left and right. “Hi, kitty,” you smile, using one digit to scratch the kitten right between its ears. You pluck a dandelion and wiggle it in front of the animal, giggling as it bats at the flower. “Shit,” you swear when it scratches you. 

The little kitten climbs into your lap and purrs happily at you, letting you scratch its little body all over. You lift it for a moment to raise its tail and take a peek, and yep, Joel was right. “You are definitely a dude,” you laugh. 

Joel pushes the curtain of the kitchen window to the side to look at you and the kitten. He clicks his tongue and shakes his head when he sees you smiling, as beautiful as that is, watching your little friend chase a white butterfly. He cuts your sandwich on the diagonal per your standing request, then slides open the window and calls your name. “Lunchtime,” he says. 

You come walking, and Joel opens the door for you, stopping you before you can make it inside. “Ah, ah. Put the damn cat back outside. Nice fuckin’ try, kiddo.” 

It was worth a shot. You set the kitten down, mumbling something Joel can’t hear, and you’d better thank your lucky stars for that. The fuckin’ mouth on you, Jesus…

“Wash up. Soap an’ water.” 

After washing, you sit at the table with Joel, eating your sandwich. He made an extra for himself, but you’re still working on your first half. You swallow a bite of food, sip your water. “I didn’t see any fleas on him but I’m gonna give him a bath,” you tell Joel casually.   

“Uh huh, good luck with that.” Joel takes another bite of his sandwich. “An’ then what?”

“Then…I think I’m gonna keep him.” 

“Yeah? That so?”

“Yep.”

You eat the rest of your first sandwich, feeling Joel’s eyes on you in the quiet room, the tension hovering like fog. You know your choice of words was bold. Gonna. A choice you made on your own. 

“Pumpkin.” 

You pull at a loose string on your shorts. 

“Look at me,” Joel says, “‘Fore you get any ideas,” and you look at him. “No. You are not gettin’ a cat.”

“Why?” you whine, dragging out the syllable. 

“Because,” he explains, “Y’eat me outta house an’ home already. I don’t need another mouth to feed.” 

“But I’ll take care of him!”

Joel scoffs, then sucks food off of his thumb. “Yeah, you’ll take care of him?” 

“I take care of my flowers,” you shoot back. “And yours.” 

Joel gives you a look, lips pulled in a frown and his eyebrows raised. You’re testing him, and by god you’ve got him, sharp fucking girl. “Uh huh. When’s the last time you did your chores, huh? Dishes? Remember those?” 

You cross your arms and push your plate away, upset with the direction of this conversation. 

“And you’re tellin’ me you’re gonna keep up with a cat? Scoop his shit out of a litter box? I don’t think so, darlin’.”

You look at Joel, then back at your plate. And back to Joel again, who’s still staring you down. He’s not budging, and you don’t think you’ll be able to get him to, either. Finally, you sigh in defeat. You lean forward and rest your head in your hands, frowning. 

“Oh, enough with the poutin’. He’s got a mama who’s gonna come lookin’ for him anyway, right?”

“Maybe,” you shrug. You don’t think so.

“Look, honey,” Joel says, “You can go out there an’ play with him as much as you want, but he’s stayin’ outside. That’s my compromise.” 

Compromise. Joel’s been trying to work on that, little by little. The give and take of it all. He’s got you tied on a short leash and he knows that, so he’s been trying to give you more freedoms and privileges here and there. 

As soon as Joel says it, you’re out the door with your other half of the sandwich. You find the kitten right where you left it and you tear off little bits of chicken and bread, watching as the kitten happily eats. All those little noises it makes, its little ears wiggling. Joel follows behind you, then stands with his arms crossed as the scene plays in front of him. 

“What?” 

Joel raises his eyebrows. 

“It’s my sandwich, Daddy. And I’m not even hungry.” Lie. 

“You know damn well what, sweetheart. He can fend for himself.”

You ignore Joel, and feed the kitten a little more food. 

“Fine. You can fend for yourself. Don’t come whinin’ at me when you’re hungry later.” Joel spins around and heads for the kitchen to rinse off the plates, keeping a watchful eye on you as you play with your little friend. 

Joel watches you spend the entire day with the little guy, and how gorgeous you look lying in the grass in your shorts and pink shirt, teasing the kitten with sticks and flowers. You lie on your back and cover your eyes with your forearm, and the kitten curls up on your chest, the both of you basking in the sun for an afternoon nap. Joel loves these sounds of your sweet giggle, your real giggle. But you, sweet fucking girl, are going to break your own damn heart.

When Joel calls you in for supper hours later, he has to stop you from sneaking the kitten into the house under your shirt. He tells you you’re walking funny, and you tell him your back hurts. When Joel calls bullshit, you tell him that he walks funny when his back hurts too, Daddy. 

You don’t make it far before Joel has you putting the kitten back outside. You and Joel eat in silence, and he notices you staring out the window, your eyes following the kitten the whole time. He also notices the food you hide in your cloth napkin. 

“I don’t see his mama,” you mumble. 

“She’s out there, honey.” 

You don’t like that you can’t see the kitten when the sun goes down. Anxiety nags at you as Joel reads to you while rocking in his chair. You’ve hardly paid attention to the story. 

Joel yawns loudly, stretching his back as he does so, then puts his heavy hand on top of your head. “Ohh, I’m beat, baby. Let’s go to bed,” he says, gently scratching your scalp. You melt under his touch for a moment before he’s patting your ass, urging you up. You slide off of his lap first, then spin around and offer him your hands. Joel groans as you try to pull him up, deliberately making you do the lion’s share of the effort. It makes you both laugh. C 

You follow Joel toward the stairs, but stop as he continues up. “Daddy?”

“What-y?”

“Can I have like, five more minutes?”

“Whatcha need to do?”

“Nothing,” you mutter, lying, and Joel knows it, too. 

“Uh huh. No funny business, Pumpkin.”

You head back for the living room and open Joel’s blanket chest to retrieve an afghan for the kitten. You take Joel’s vinyls out of the crate they sit in and place them neatly on the floor, careful not to break anything. It’s not like Joel will care, right? He doesn’t even use his turntable. 

Although…Uncle Tommy might. He likes to play music when he sneaks over and plays with you. 

Outside, you set up a little bed for the kitten, and you leave food scraps out for him, too. You call for him, making kissy noises and pss pss pssing into the dark. You’re relieved when he comes running and snacks on the meal you’ve made for him, and you take care to make sure he likes the blanket you’ve picked. It takes him some time to get comfortable. “I can get you a different blanket, bud–”

“Pumpkin!” Joel shouts with his mouth full of toothpaste through the screen window above. 

“Coming, Daddy!”

But you don’t. Joel can picture the scene as he spits out his toothpaste and wipes his mouth on the back of his hand, you tickling that flea-ridden cat. He goes downstairs in his pajamas and joins you outside, watching with his arms crossed as you care for your fuzzy little friend. 

“Hey.” Joel tilts his head and squints. “That my record crate?”

“...yeah.” 

“So where are my records?”

“The floor, I guess,” you answer quietly. Joel rolls his eyes, then snaps and points to the door. “Gonna throttle you, kid. Alright. You kiss your little buddy goodnight and get your ass upstairs. S’bedtime.” 

Joel watches you tenderly kiss the kitten, right on its forehead and between its ears that are a little too big for its head yet. He ushers you inside with a hand on your lower back, and he gets snapped at by you when he closes the door too loudly. When he kisses you on the forehead and whispers to you goodnight, he knows what’s running through that restless mind of yours. “Hey,” he murmurs. “He’s gonna be alright, okay?” 

You check on the kitten every morning and night, and you spend the majority of your days with him as long as he’s around. Joel watched you empty an ice tray into a bowl once, rolling his eyes as you filled it at the sink. “I’m just making sure he has water,” you said. 

“Uh huh. Does he really need ice water, Pumpkin?” 

“It’s his favorite, Daddy.” 

Because he likes to bat around the ice cubes. He paws at them and splashes around a little, then licks his paws. 

You gave him a name after about a week. Snoopy. It just fit the little guy. 

Joel says goodbye to you one morning, telling you that he’s stopping at the market to pick up some eggs real quick, but that he’ll let you stay outside while he’s gone. It’s only a few minutes anyway, and Joel knows you’re fixated on your little friend. You won’t be getting up to much trouble, so he gives you this inch. “Been goin’ through ‘em awful quick. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would ya, Pumpkin?”

“Mm-mm,” you lie, holding a handful of scrambled eggs behind your back as Joel kisses you on the cheek. “Can you get feathers, though? From the chickens? I want to make him some toys.” 

Joel rolls his eyes and shakes his head, but he returns to you with feathers anyway. You’re a very crafty girl, fashioning some sort of teaser toy out of said feathers and a stick. Joel notices the kitten’s been getting bigger. 

You and Snoopy have a whole routine. Every morning when you greet him, you sing his name. “Snooopyyyy,” you call, and Snoopy emerges from his crate or a patch of flowers. “Big stretch,” you’ll smile, watching as the kitten leans back on his paws, then forward, wiry little tail flinching while he yawns. Snoopy sings back to you as he greets you, and he’s got the sweetest, chirpiest little meow. 

You’ll spend the afternoons playing with him, and when he tires, he naps on you while you read or doodle or something. Sometimes you’ll bring a blanket outside and nap in the grass with him, enjoying the smell of his sunlight-warmed kitten fur. His eyes are turning green now. They were blue when you first met him. 

If Joel’s not home, you’ll sit by the window and play with him through the screen. You wish he’d stop locking the fucking doors. There hasn’t been an incident in a long time, but Joel says that trust has to be earned. But he also says you’re getting there, though…he’s been saying that for a while, hasn’t he. 

Joel makes a deal with you. He stops arguing about you sneaking the kitten your dinner and instead prepares Snoopy-sized portions on a small dish so long as you eat well and take care of your chores without Joel asking you to. It seems to be working well. 

But Joel still won’t budge on letting Snoopy stay. No cats, he says. 

You kiss Snoopy goodnight each night, wishing so badly you could go to sleep with him safe in your arms instead. 

You haven’t seen such an ugly sky in so long. The clouds are green and purple like shades of bruised skin, a front rolling in quickly. You felt iffy all day when it was just gray and teasing a storm, but the storm’s here, now. 

It looks bad. There’s lightning and thunder, though it’s not yet begun to rain. Wind blowing through the screen knocks over papers in Joel’s house. Snoopy’s not by the window with you, and you can’t quite see him, but you can hear him. The kitten cries in anxiety, all alone as he hides from the storm. God, you fucking hate this. You call out to him and promise him that everything’s okay, but it probably does little to comfort the creature. 

Everything’s worse after the first few drops of rain pour from the sky. It begins pouring, then stops for a second. You mop up the mess inside with a towel. There’s a ping…ping…ping, ping against the gutters, hail then slamming against the side of the house as thunder roars. They’re large pieces of hail, too, and you worry Snoopy’ll get hurt, or worse as the storm escalates. Jackson saves its alarms for infected only, so there’s no way for you to know what’s ahead. 

You try opening a door. Then another, and another. Joel’s locked them all at multiple points.

There’s a strange feeling that comes with punching out the window’s screen. You’ve done it before and faced the consequences, god. That awful day in the forest, being hunted down by Joel with Tommy’s dog. Joel terrorized the living fucking daylights out of you that day, scared you from ever pulling that shit again. But here you are, climbing out the window, just as you did before. You remember the mistakes you made that led you to Joel finding you. You wouldn’t make them again. 

Thunder claps and snaps you out of your train of thought. Snoopy cries and you run to him, he’s hidden under his blanket in his crate. Rain soaks you as you run to him and quickly gather him, ignoring his frightened scratching as you hide him under your clothes. What compels you back inside is Snoopy’s safety more than your own, truth be told. 

You drip water onto Joel’s floors as you slam the glass window shut, then quickly bring Snoopy up to your room. The kitten is drenched, the same as you. He’s shivering and scared and you are too, but you dry him off before you dry yourself. You create a safe, warm space for him under your bed, which he seems to appreciate. He stays hidden as the storm rages on. 

With Snoopy safe, you head back downstairs to assess the damage. The screen has blown halfway across Joel’s yard, so you open the window and sprint after it to fetch it. You are so deeply fucked if Joel sees what you did to his window - the screen is broken and coming apart, and you couldn’t begin to figure out how to fit it back into the window. Especially not in this storm. 

“I’ll always come and getcha if you’re in a jam,” Uncle Tommy had told you once, like he was your guardian angel or something. He whispered it, actually, and tapped your nose with his long, thick finger. Wearing that crooked smirk of his, his eyes sparkling with something darker than mischievous. 

“No questions asked?” 

“Don’t know about that,” Tommy replied. “But if ya need me, sweetheart, I’m there. I know what it’s like to be your age, to find yourself in all sorts’a dicey fuckin’ situations.” 

“Did you get in trouble a lot?” 

“Sure did, honey.” 

“What’d you do?” 

Tommy chuckled and swiped at his nose, then shook his head. “Ohhh, darlin’. All kinds of shit a sweet girl like you don’t need to know a goddamn thing about.” 

You think now’s about as good a time as ever to get Uncle Tommy and help yourself out of this jam you’re in. You race to his house through the storm, exhilarated as it’s the first time you’ve been out like this since…you don’t even know when. It feels fucking good. 

You pound on Tommy’s door, praying to god he’s home and lucky for you, he is. You barely stutter out an explanation before you’re grabbing his hand and leading him back to Joel’s, then showing him the screen you need him to fix. “Jesus, girl. Your daddy’s gonna beat ya black and blue, you know that?”

“I know. I need your help,” you tell him. “Please, Uncle Tommy.” 

Tommy picks up the screen and opens the door, then gestures for you to move inside. “You up to no good?” he asks, only to be met with no answer. “I ain’t helpin’ ‘less you tell me what crime exactly it is that you’re makin’ me a goddamn accomplice of.” 

“Fine. I’ll show you.” 

“Show me, huh.” Uncle Tommy follows you up the stairs and into your room, where he takes in everything. The books you read, the clothes you wear, the locked window. The baby monitor Joel turns on at night. 

You lift your bedskirt and scratch the floor, and out comes Snoopy. Cautiously, as he’s still frightened by the storm. You scoop him up in your hands and bring him to Tommy, who scratches the kitten between its ears. “This is Snoopy,” you introduce, “He’s been my friend for a while but Joel - Daddy won’t let me have a pet.” 

“Mm,” Tommy hums, now scratching beneath the kitten’s chin. He can fill in the blanks himself - you broke out to rescue this kitten from the big bad storm, and now you need him to cover your tracks. “You sit tight and I’ll see what I can do, sweetheart.” 

Tommy leaves you to go clean your mess. It’s an easy enough fix - staple the screen back into its frame, then fit the entire thing into the window. He could do it in his sleep. 

He calls you downstairs to inspect his handiwork, make sure everything’s to your liking, and it’s as good as new. “Well, whaddaya say, kiddo?” 

You push on the screen, smiling in both relief and mischief. It thrills you to get away with this, to have this little secret of your own. That alone is an accomplishment when Joel keeps you under the microscope the way he does, isn’t it? You don’t have much that’s just…yours. Joel takes it all from you. 

“Thank you,” you grin, wrapping your arms around Tommy’s strong middle. You squeeze him so tightly and he hugs you back, kissing the top of your head while stroking your back.

“S’what I’m here for, darlin’. Always got your back,” he murmurs softly, then clicks his tongue. “Your daddy’s a fuckin’ hard ass, ain’t he?” 

“He–” you stop yourself from continuing. Tommy laughs at that. 

“You can say it, hon. Not gonna snitch on ya.” 

“He’s a hard ass, yeah,” you laugh, and it feels good to get it off your chest. It’s hard to talk about Joel in that way when he tells you that he’s always right, and when he punishes you for questioning him. Daddy knows what’s best for ya, Pumpkin. Ungrateful ass spoiled fuckin’ brat. He gave you life and he can take it away, you know. Keep fucking testing, watch what happens. And quit with the fuckin’ waterworks before he gives you somethin’ to really cry about. 

Tommy laughs too, swaying you from side to side in his warm embrace. It goes quiet, the only sound in the room being the rain splashing against the windows. It’s all but died completely. 

“Guessin’ you’re wantin’ Uncle Tommy to keep quiet about this too, then, huh?” he asks quietly, pointing to the window. “Yeah?”

“Please,” you answer. 

Tommy takes a deep breath, groaning as his cock stirs in his denim. “S’just a big secret to keep is all,” he says. Tommy continues, “An’ I can keep quiet for ya, but I gotta know what’s in it for me, right? S’all I’m askin’.”

You pull away, brows pinched in concern. Tommy shrugs and grins in a very matter-of-fact way, putting his hands in his front pockets. “C’mon. Fair’s fair, ain’t it? I do a lil’ somethin’ for you, you do a lil’ somethin’ for me?”

“What - what am I supposed to do for you?”

Tommy chuckles darkly. “What do you think, girlie?” He reaches for your hand and presses your palm against his bulge, sighing softly at the pressure. Even like this, you can feel just how big he is. “Got such a pretty mouth, sweet pea,” Tommy says, reaching for your face. He runs his thumb along your bottom lip and gives it a little pull, smirking in his wolfish way. “Why don’tcha get on your knees f’me?”

You kneel so pretty, Tommy thinks as he unbuckles his belt. He pushes some hair out of your face with one hand, then frees his cock using the other, resting his hefty balls on top of the elastic waistband of his boxers. His cock is too big and heavy to slap against his stomach, and bobs with the weight of itself. He holds it between his thumb and forefingers, guiding the tip toward your mouth. “Gimme a kiss, honey,” he says, pushing himself toward you. 

His cock is so warm against your lips as you kiss him, and he smells so musky, slightly bitter. His pubic hair is less gray than Joel’s is, but getting there. It’s about as overgrown, though. And he’s markedly thicker than Joel is, though maybe not as long. He’s a fucking choking hazard, is what he is. 

You’re happy to take Uncle Tommy’s cock in your mouth, truthfully, even if the whole act caught you off guard. It’s just another way to pull one over on Joel, after all. You’d probably be in big trouble if he knew what you were up to. Good thing he’ll never find out, huh?

You swirl your tongue around Tommy’s thick head, running your tongue over his wet slit, tasting that little bit of prejack that’s beaded there. Tommy holds your face with one of his large hands, stroking softly at your skin as you peer up at him. Uncle Tommy looks like nothing good for you, and you can’t help but feel absolutely intrigued by that. He’s the knife you do tricks with, the matches you play with. 

You run your tongue along the underside of his shaft, eliciting a deep groan from him. “Don’t you tease me, sweet pea. Ain’t nice.”

You part your lips and take his head into your mouth, then bob yourself on his length, about halfway or less. Tommy watches you, waiting to see if you’ll work your way down, nose buried into his thick patch of hair. “Ahem,” he clears his throat, “Lil’ deeper now, honey. All the way down. I know your daddy raised ya better’n that, huh?”” 

You pull off of Tommy, a string of saliva that connects him to your lips breaking. “Daddy doesn’t make me take him all the way,” you tell Tommy.

Tommy shrugs, makes a face. “But you ain’t suckin’ your daddy’s cock right now, are ya, girlie?” He positions himself back at your mouth, then begins pushing in. “Uncle Tommy plays by different rules.” 

Tommy takes the reins here. Hand on the back of your head, forcing his way deeper down your throat. He’s not a brute about it, of course. He’s gentle, but firm, pushing his cock inch by inch into your warm, wet, welcoming mouth. He hushes you when you gag, choking on his girth. “Slow down an’ catch your breath,” he says. “Through your nose. M’not goin’ nowhere.” 

His words soothe you. There’s a bit of panic that comes with him being so deep down your throat, but Tommy’s generous enough to give you the time to get used to him. Once you stop squirming, stop making those silly, cockdumb noises he loves so much, Tommy pulls out. And he pushes back in, and pulls out again. He repeats this until he’s steadily fucking your mouth, hand tangled in your hair. It’s less of something you do for him and more so something he does to you, reminding you of exactly who’s standing and who’s kneeling, here. 

“Open wide,” he tells you. “Quickly, darlin’.” Tommy pulls out of your mouth and jerks his cock furiously, sticking his tongue out at you to indicate what he wants you to do. You follow suit, and Tommy paints you in his load, all over your tongue and the back of your throat. “And swallow. That’s it, honey. Good girl.” 

You stand up, knees aching slightly. Tommy wipes a bit of his cum off your lip, then pushes it into your mouth. With a twinkle in his eye, he motions like he’s zipping his lips sealed; locks the key and tosses it over his shoulder and winks. “Pleasure doin’ business with ya, sweetheart, as always.” 

And he’s off. 

A week later, and you cannot fucking believe you got away with it. This kitten…god, what a clever, beautiful creature he is. Snoopy knows when to hide. He stays quiet, never arouses Joel’s suspicions. You’ve got a litter box filled with sand in an inconspicuous spot and you clean it daily, always when Joel’s not around. 

You have the most special connection with him. He sleeps in the pocket of your hoodie and plays with anything he can get his paws on. He still doesn’t like the rain, but he’s so soothed by your touch. And each night after Joel reads to you and kisses you, Snoopy appears like clockwork. It’s the gentlest little jump, the slightest shift of weight on your mattress. He tucks himself right under your chin and stays there until early in the morning, then watches the birds every morning, hiding behind your curtain. He does the cutest little ek ek ek’s that cats always do, probably saying nothing nice to any one of those birds. Little punk. 

Joel asked once about him. You told him that his mama probably found him, which isn’t entirely a lie. Joel says it’s better that way. 

The old man fucking bought it.

Snoopy’s curled up on your lap and purring happily as you brush him, collecting little tufts of black fur you’ll set outside tomorrow morning. The birds will have nice, warm, insulated nests for their babies, you think, smiling to yourself. 

Your nose tickles. You wipe it with your hand, putting more of his fur there. “Fuck,” you groan, scrunching your nose and wiggling your mouth. It’s in your eyes, too. It makes you sneeze, loudly, startling Snoopy. The claws come out immediately and dig into your bare thighs, and drag there as he launches himself off of you and darts under the bed. “FUCK! Snoopy, what the h–”

Blood is beading up on your thighs. Little kitten claws cut so deep, don’t they? Snoopy hasn’t quite figured out how to temper them, either, when to retract them. Blood is beading up on your thighs, dripping towards where gravity pulls it. Fuck, fuck, fuck. How will you explain this one to Joel, huh? He’s gonna come in here tonight to fuck you and he’ll see your bloodied and scratched thighs, what’ll you tell him? 

“Holy shit, okay. Ow,” you whine, hopping off the bed and hobbling toward the bathroom. The warm red dripping down your thighs makes you feel a little dizzy. It’s running toward your knees, now. “Ow, ow, ow, oh my god.” 

“Pumpkin?” Joel calls from his room. “You hurt yourself, baby?” 

Shit. Joel’s home? “No - I’m fine, Daddy.” 

“What’s ow?”

Silence. Joel knows you should have an answer for him. “Pumpkin…”

“I’m fine! Don’t–” 

Too late. Joel’s already out of his room and staring you down in the hallway, taking you in. Your bloodied thighs, the deer-in-the-headlights look. He counts the scratches on your thighs - four that are visible, all in irregular patterns. “What did you do?”

You purse your lips, squeezing your eyes shut as the cuts throb, and Joel knows you’re lying. You’re doing all your usual tells, hemming and hawing while looking to the side. “What did you do?”

Snoopy emerges from your room at that exact moment, and Joel pieces it all together. Fuming, he marches past you and down the stairs. Your stomach drops when you hear a drawer in the kitchen open, and then Joel’s stomping up the steps, wooden spoon in hand. “Again,” he spits. “Lyin’ t’me, a-fuckin’-gain.” 

“Daddy, no. Please d–”

Joel ignores you and drags you by the arm into your bedroom, where he sits on your bed. He forces you over his knee and tugs your shorts and panties down your ass, ripping them a little in the process. That fragile, old fabric. 

He hits you with the instrument, hard. He does it again, ignoring your cries of pain. Joel hits you until he can see the outline of the wood on your ass, “Tell me, Pumpkin. How’d ya pull this one off, huh?” 

Hit. You scream, then answer him. “I don’t know!” 

“You better fuckin’ speak up, girl.” 

Nothing from you, and another smack. It’s hard to think up another lie as Joel beats you raw, but you manage to. “You left the door unlocked,” you sob. “Daddy, please. I’m so sorry.” 

“When was this?”

“Like - like a week ago!” you cry. 

“Didja go anywhere?” he asks, raising the spoon to hit you again. That’s Joel’s main concern - you’ve been getting in and out? How long has this been going on? Who are you seeing, and what do you tell them? Joel’s blind and sick with rage and you, Pumpkin, you did this to him. And you did this to yourself. 

“I didn’t! Daddy, I did - listen to me, please. I’m telling you the truth. Daddy–” 

“You better spit it the fuck out, then. Go.” 

“It was storming, you left the door unlocked. I didn’t know it until I tried it. And I was scared for him, so I got him and brought him inside. And that’s all that happened, Daddy, you have to believe me.” 

“Yeah? Why should I, kid?” he pants, red in the face. “Fuckin’ lied before, haven’t ya?”

“Yes, but–”

“But what?”

But nothing. You break down and sob, waiting for more hits to come. Joel lets you cry it out for a moment, then drops the spoon. When he stands up, you’re afraid his belt is next. 

Joel walks away. He returns moments later, a basket of medical supplies in his hands. “Flip over,” he barks, still pissed off as ever. You do so immediately, and Joel sits on the edge of the bed. He spreads your thighs and inspects your scratches, then dabs some isopropyl alcohol onto a few cotton balls. 

“Don’t–”

“Shut the fuck up,” he says, wiping your injuries with the cotton ball. It hurts worse than the spankings did and makes you scream, but it distracts you from the pain of your raw, swollen, throbbing ass. “S’posed to hurt. It’s a punishment,” he says, moving onto the next one, and the one after that.

Joel fans air on your thighs, then unscrews the cap off some antibiotic ointment. He dabs a little on his fingertip, then runs the ointment over the scratches. “Don’t look at ‘em,” he warns, though you’ve already seen them. “I need ya to be honest with me.” Joel inhales deeply, then reaches for a roll of gauze and some medical tape, both half-used. “Is this whole kitten ordeal,” he asks, gesturing to wherever the hell Snoopy ran off to, “The only stunt you pulled?”

“Y–”

“Do not lie t’me again, so help me god.” 

“It’s the truth,” you answer, convincing yourself that it’s not a lie, and that you didn’t go and see Uncle Tommy, or suck his cock and swallow his cum on his brother’s kitchen floor. It’s not hard to do when your head feels as swollen as it does, sinuses all congested, cheeks puffy and raw from your tears. Anything to get through, you know…this.

Joel feels like he could fucking puke, knowing you escaped. He feels stupid for leaving a door unlocked. He feels stupid for trusting you, too. “Why don’tcha listen to me? Hm? Why d’ya have to buck me every goddamn step of the way? I put a roof over your head and give ya food and clothes an’ all I ask is that you just fucking listen.”

“I do listen,” you argue, searching for the words. “I’m trying - I really do try to, at least.” 

“Do you?” 

“Yes!” You’re defensive. Dishonest. You’re just like your daddy, aren’t you? Oh, you know the truth. You know you crave the fight and the challenge. The feeling that comes from winning against Joel…but that never seems to happen, does it? 

“Am I…bad, do you think?” 

Joel tilts his head, frowning, intrigued. “In there?” he asks, tapping gently where your heart beats and you nod, sniffling. “Oh, not at all, sweet girl. You’re not bad,” he says. He dabs some antibiotic ointment on one of the deeper scratches on your thighs, then covers it all with some gauze. “Not by a longshot. I think you’re trouble, Pumpkin, but you’re the furthest goddamn thing from bad. I love that heart of yours.” 

And Joel means that. You’re soft, tender, sensitive. Brave when you need to be. Stubborn as all get out. Joel’s special girl, always getting herself into messes he’s gotta clean up. It’s all part of parenthood. 

“You’re a good kid,” he says, “But you cannot keep doin’ shit like this to me, baby. My fuckin’ heart can’t take it.” 

Joel says it softly, in a pained way, knowing his words’ll eat at you, knowing that they already are. And they do - guilt is such an awful, nagging feeling, and it might just be the perfect motivator to get you to fucking obey. And sure, you like to hurt Joel, make him ache like he makes you ache. But causing him anxiety, deep upset…knowing what memory tugs in the back of his mind when you remind him that you can disappear if you really want to, as much as he tries to stop you. The little girl he told you about. 

Joel inhales deeply, then changes the subject. “M’gonna keep an eye on this. Cat scratches ain’t nothin’ to mess around with,” he murmurs. He lays you down on the soft mattress and brings his face close to your thigh, then gently kisses over the bandages he wrapped you in. 

Daddy’s always gonna do that, you know. He’ll always kiss your hurt all better, yes, even when he’s mad at you, yes, even when he’s disappointed in you. What else are daddies for, if not that very thing? 

Joel kisses over each of the covered scratches, coincidentally kissing his way toward your center, causing you to soak your lily-white sheets beneath your ass. You whine when he pulls away from where you need his kisses the very most. You always need him after your fights, to remind yourself that he loves you, and things can feel good with him. “Please, Daddy.” 

“No can do, Pumpkin. ‘F we screw up your bandages m’gonna have to do the whole thing all over again.” 

“Even the alcohol?”

“Reckon so,” Joel answers, laughing to himself when you pout at that. “Mmhmm, I know, sweetheart. We gotta make good decisions, don’t we?” he whispers, running his knuckle delicately along your cheekbone. “Daddy’s here to help ya make good choices. You know that?” 

“I know that,” you reply softly. 

Joel caresses your jaw softly, gently. “C’mere,” he says, but he brings himself to you. He kisses your forehead, both of your cheeks, your chin, and your nose…your lips. It’s something you don’t do enough, is kiss Joel. It’s a gentle peck at first, then deepens into something more than that. Joel’s tongue mingles with yours as he cages your body with his own. 

His hands on your neck, trailing down your breasts, pausing to gently squeeze at them. His hand goes lower and lower, fingers dipping into your heat to gauge just how badly you need this. If it’s worth the risk or not. 

And Christ, you’re soaked to the fucking bone, kid. You moan into Joel’s mouth, rutting your hips into his palm. “Ohh, fuck. Goddamn, honey,” Joel says. “I think we can do it, Pumpkin, but Daddy’s gonna go real slow and careful.” 

“Okay,” you nod, biting down on your grin. Joel will tease if he sees it. 

“Which means,” he adds, “You can’t get mad an’ throw a fit like usual when things don’t go your way. Right? Gotta be patient w’me.” 

“I’ll be patient, Daddy.” 

“Uh huh.” 

And that’s all Joel says before pulling away from you. He brings you with him momentarily, just to lift your shirt off and toss it elsewhere. Off comes his clothes next, one at a time. Joel’s in no rush. 

He lowers himself between your thighs, spreading them wide. He continues those kisses from earlier, working his way toward your center, and each one makes you throb. He kisses your lips, your mound, your belly. Joel inhales deeply, your gorgeous, warm, sugar-sweet scent. He can feel the heat radiating from your pussy on your skin, feel you thrumming with a need, a hunger only Joel - Daddy - can satiate. 

If it were a different day, if you weren’t already blemished by violence, he’d probably squeeze you hard enough to bruise. You’re soft like a peach, after all. But as promised, Joel’s gentle with you. Joel’s gentle with you as he licks a long stripe from the bottom of your pussy right to the very top, drawing a figure eight around your clit. “Guess the shape, Punk’n.”

You giggle, “Circle.” 

“Nope!” 

Joel does it again, and again, and again. “I don’t know, Daddy,” you breathe, “Figure eights?”

Joel laughs. “Attagirl,” he praises. He dips his tongue lower, nosing your clit while dipping his tongue in and out of you, tasting you. You make all the same sweet little noises you always make, quiet moans and soft whimpering. You soak his chin and the bedsheets beneath you, fingers tangling around Joel’s gorgeous, silvery curls. 

Joel savors you, like you’re syrup on his tongue. He inserts two fingers into your heat, rubbing against that special place inside you, steadily guiding you toward your release. 

Like when you lie, you have tells. Shaking, trembling thighs, a quiet voice. Joel licks and licks and licks, and there it is - cumming hard on Joel’s fingers, pulsing around them, gushing into the palm of his hand. 

Joel licks the mess, then pulls himself forward. He fits his hips between your thighs, cock bouncing between your bodies, red and swollen, beating in time with his heart. “Ready, kiddo?”

“Can I put it in?” you ask.

Joel guides his tip toward your slit, “Mm-mm. Daddy’s doin’ it this time, baby. Maybe another time, ‘kay?” 

“Can I help, then?”

Joel rolls his eyes and smiles. “Oh, yeah? You can help?”

“Mhm.”

 He’s only a man, after all. Only a daddy. Who’s he to deny his pretty girl of such a thing? “Hold me right here,” he says, wrapping your hand around his shaft. You hold him as he fits himself inside you, then let go when he swats your hand away. He enters you quicker than he used to, testing you. Seeing how you handle him. “Lookit how good ya take it, baby,” he coos, looking down to see himself fully sheathed in your warmth. He pulls out, and he’s coated in ribbons of your creamy arousal, then pushes back in. He finds a pace, then saws his hips into you. “Yeah, nice an’ easy,” he whispers, making good on his promise to fuck you gently. And like a good girl, you take it, and you don’t complain. Not for more, not for less. You moan for Joel, making all of his favorite sounds, whimpering his name in that special way nobody else gets to hear. 

Joel’s hands wander your body, squeezing whatever handfuls of your flesh he can. “Daddy!” you squeak, wincing when he grabs your thigh. 

“Shit, baby. My bad. Lemme look–” Joel pauses to give your bandages a quick peek, then continues fucking himself into your tight cunt. “Easy, sweetheart. Easy.” 

Joel fucks you gently, steadily, and you feel at home. It used to feel scary - and Joel made it scary - but there is something about it now that comforts you. Something about his body wrapped around yours, his nakedness, his weight and his warmth. Joel, finding himself closer to his orgasm, licks his fingers and massages your clit to coax your own along. 

Pleasure ripples through you, washing over you in non-rhythm. Your pulsating walls have Joel coming just behind you, pressure building deep in his gut in the same way it does yours. Balls tightening, brow pinched together, Joel grits his teeth and growls as he cums, drowning out your pleasured noises with his own. “Oh, fuck Goddamn, fuck,” he grunts, milking the last of himself before he begins to soften. 

Joel pulls out of you, then bends down and grabs his t-shirt, uses it to clean the mess he made of you. “Go potty, sweet pea,” he pants, catching his breath. 

“Daddy.” 

“Not arguin’. Go.” 

He flops in your bed, watching as you walk naked to the bathroom, watching you relieve yourself, feeling his cock stir at that, despite having just orgasmed. 

You flush the toilet and wash your hands, then join Joel in bed where he pats the space next to him. You snuggle him, inhaling his warm, sweaty skin, feeling at peace until…until you remember what’s coming after this. 

“So, uh…”

“Hm, baby?”

“About the cat.” 

“The rodent you’ve been feedin’ my eggs to, yeah, what about him?” Joel scoffs. 

“Just wondering.” 

“Uh huh. Heard ya named him, right?”

“Snoopy.”

Joel nods. “M’not mad at you for takin’ care a’ him, ya know. I’m mad about the lyin’, the disobeyin’.”

“Yeah. I know,” you whisper. Before it all feels heavy again, Snoopy jumps into bed with you and Joel, breaking the tension. He bravely walks over Joel like he’s not even there, then curls up into your side, settling right in that elegant curve between your hip and rib cage. 

“So this is Felix, huh?”

“No, his name is Snoopy. I just told you.” 

“Ahh, Snoopy. My bad.” Joel rests one hand behind his head, then scratches the kitten with the other. “Thing’s fuckin’ ugly,” Joel mumbles, using just one finger to tickle the creator. “Pretty screwed up lookin’ dog f’ya ask me, Punk’n.”

“Daddy,” you scold. Snoopy closes his eyes and purrs, tilting his head into Joel’s hand, leaning into his touch before betraying you by walking over to Joel. He lays on Joel’s chest, happily melting into those firm, warm strokes Joel gives him before settling against his neck. You hope Snoopy stays this snuggly forever. 

“Please let me keep him, Daddy.” 

“I dunno, kiddo. I’ll have to think on it.” Joel lifts Snoopy, ignoring his whines, then places him in your hands. He groans and lifts himself up and out of bed, then turns off the overhead light, leaving your lamp on. “You’re lucky I love ya,” he says, then kisses your forehead. “I mean it, honey. I do.” 

“I love you too,” you whisper, and Joel kisses you again. It’s not quite bedtime but it’s getting there, and Joel’s ready to lie in a bed that actually fits him, maybe read a book. Give you time with Felix…Snoopy…whatever the fuck his name is before he’s gone for good. Because no, Pumpkin, you cannot keep him. Rules are rules, and that cat is going outside where he belongs. 

Joel lies in his bed, reading glasses on as he flips through a book you’ve been asking to read, checking for pornography and other things of that nature, when a certain someone interrupts. Snoopy’s tugging on his comforter, clawing his way up the mattress to meet Joel, taking back his spot on Joel’s chest. “What are you doin’ here,” Joel mumbles, once again moving the kitten away. This time, Snoopy doesn’t just vocally protest, no. He swipes at Joel’s finger, nicking him right by the knuckle, then settles on his torso again. “Shit. Fuckin’ asshole.” Joel sucks his finger as he glares at the kitten. 

Snoopy stares back at him, then lowers his head and rests his chin on his little paws. “Guess you’re kinda cute,” he murmurs. “Aren’t ya.” As if on cue, the kitten flips over, exposing its belly to Joel. He laughs. 

“Bet your girl’s missin’ ya, knucklehead. Go bug somebody who actually likes ya. Scram, Felix.” 

Snoopy must’ve learned his defiance from you. He closes his eyes and opts for a nap on Joel’s warm body instead. 

There was never a definitive yes. Every time you asked about Snoopy, Joel would give you some half-hearted answer, followed by some snarky comment. 

“Can we keep him?”

“Sure, kiddo.” 

“Really?”

“Uh huh, gonna keep him and cook him up with onions an’ garlic for dinner. Since he likes to be on my fuckin’ counters so much, hm?” Joel gently pushes Snoopy off the countertop. 

“He likes to be tall,” you argue from the floor, petting a Snoopy that’s doubled in size since you brought him in from the storm. 

“Oh, give me a fuckin’ break. Likes to be tall.”

“I mean it,” you tell Joel, “I read that cats like to be up high. Maybe he’d stay off your counters if you made him a cat condo. Nice and tall.” 

“A cat condo, hm? So it’s not enough I’m sharin’ my home with this asshole, I gotta make him his own special little house, too?” 

“Well, yeah. You could make a scratching post and everything for him. That way he’ll stop scratching at your rocking chair.” 

Joel stops, then narrows his eyes at you and your little buddy. “He’s doin’ what t’my rockin’ chair?”

More dark daddy!joel here

Ty for your patience and ty for reading. Nice words keep me motivated to write. Everybody take care.

[goomyloid]

Hii! First time asker here! I hope you're having a good day! :)

I think I have a bunch of questions here but feel free to answer whichever feels more interesting lol. I apologize if this is a tad bit long, I always love to rant if given the opportunity, even if it's just an "ask" haha.

Okay so first, outside of Kriselle, what are your thoughts on other ships that involve either Noelle or Kris, such as Krusie, Suselle etc. Do you like something about these ships as well or is the drama of Kriselle just too tough to beat? lol

And the next question would be, what do you think the reaction of Noelle's family would be to seeing their daughter visibly changing into someone she really isn't and getting closer to Kris again, abruptly and seemingly out of nowhere, for example her parents, ofcourse they probably wouldn't know that the soul is involved here but i'd love to see if some of them would see this as some odd type of relationship or something toxic outright. In general I'd love to see how you personally envision the future of Kriselle, especially the snowgrave one and how it would affect those close to Noelle, since obviously they'd notice the changes! And don't even get me started on if Dess returned and found out... Wuhoh Kris would sure feel the wrath of the wifflebat once again even if it isn't their fault lol!

re: other ships… i do like krusie a lot and if kriselle somehow didn’t exist it would probably be my #1 tbh… like many others i enjoy them not necessarily in a “they should be in a relationship together” way but more so “they should kiss for fun and recreation and then turn around and claim they’re not dating” They are quite goofy. i Do like them

suselle is fine and i generally find it wildly inoffensive which is maybe why it doesnt interest me as much LMAO. that and also because kris is not there and i think i just like kris a lot and want them to be there Somehow

also, because other people have asked, i think krusielle is good too, i like drawing them on occasion, but people often make it into like, Them Being In A Conscious Polycule, like Realistically, which is still fine but inside my head i think “ohhhh they’re not Nearly functional enough to make that work. they all have shit to work out first. kris especially” (which like, you can apply to all the ships, but almost all krusielle polycule depictions i see are very positive and happy) so like maybe when they’re all adults and their Brains have developed there will be less of a chance for it to end in disaster.

its also a personal itty bitty gripe of mine whenever people in ship discussions simply go “krusielle is the answer! make them a polycule they all have two hands!” which again There Is Absolutely Nothing Wrong With It Whatsoever and I Like Krusielle . but inside my head im like Wait! All their personal issues! Wait! The unresolved strain that exists within some of these relationships! Wait! You’re pushing aside analyses of their individual relationships in favor of treating Krusielle as a bandaid to quell ship discussions! Wait! Wait!!!!!

its not actually a big deal, just something ive noticed with time, especially from younger fans… it is ok to dissect each of their relationships individually… and entering a conversation about say, kriselle, and inserting susie in there to call it krusielle because you Feel Bad shes being Left Out… doesnt really add much to the discussion in the end… susie deserves more than to just be placed in the corner like “I too am in this relationship”… if youre gonna be a krusielle fan go all in!!!

(also because just in general i figure its good etiquette to not go and barge into people’s ship conversations to talk about a completely different one, but people never seem to follow that… like even in reverse it would be kinda crappy of me to go up to people talking about krusielle and be like OK BUT KRISELLE THOUGH!!!)

didnt mean for all that to turn into a rant, i say it all lightheartedly i promise…

for the second question, i think its interesting how much noelle’s parents DONT seem to notice that something is wrong (or if carol knows, she doesnt seem to be trying to stop it) just that noelle is Feeling Off and thinking about kris again. its funny how both rudy and carol each kind of separately give their “blessings” for kris to take her to the festival, probably because it’s kris and they’ve never done something to really hurt her, right… haha….

as for what might happen in the future, im not all that sure… ive said something similar before but i have to wonder how possible it even is for them to have a future in the weird route, but maybe thats just because im convinced that one or both of them will die (or something similar such as ascending to a higher plane and becoming a concept. or something) at the end, maybe, idk, i really do not know how much the rest of the route will differ from here… i want to be hopeful that there are real big changes to the ending but (shrug)

on that topic, i thought it was kind of funny how the chapter 2 weird route does the same thing as the UT no mercy route and cuts all the silly stuff to rocket you straight through the rest of the game, going Serious Mode and skipping so many things. and then chapter 3 is totally back to normal LMAO. which like, of course it is, noelle’s not there so what could Really drastically change about it, but it’s still that lack of change that makes me sit and wonder just how much of the story could actually change bc of the weird route… (again i obviously hope its a lot but Shrug)

im also kind of curious to see how catti will react to noelle being different, especially because she specifically entrusted kris with keeping her safe… still really hoping she becomes relevant soon qxwhfjgjrbwhc

[tarookie]

jake’s ideal type reading

heyyy!!! i was bored so i decided to do a jake ideal type reading since im having a jake fever these days 🤒 sybal. alsooo dont worry ill do the poll winner content later ( i think it will be about niki) <3

keep sending me requests or things you guys would like to know pls

page of swords + the moon + the chariot + ace of cups + knight of cups + the strenght + 10 of pentacles + the empress + the temperance + the hanged man + wheel of fortune

jake is definetly someone who likes to be intellectually attracted to people (page of swords). he likes intelligent, clever and smart girls who dont miss things happening around them. when it comes to physical type, hes someone who likes a melancholic but sexy face (so scorpio of him fuck) with a mysterious vibe ( the moon) idk how to explain help 😭 yk like girls that look good with dark hair + red lipstick combo? that type of girls. he wants a confident girl who’s not afraid to go after what she wants with confidence and a driven mindset (the chariot) he wants a girl who’s not clingy and doesnt > need < him for anything (the strength) someone who controls their emotions and wont be all over him since day 1. even if she likes him or he can sense that wants him, will keep it lowkey. yk those people that the first week that you’re talking to them they’re already asking you to meet their family or acting like you’re dating them? he despises that. he values ambition and wants someone who’s independent. in terms of social presence, he likes when a girl is calm and has a light heart (ace of cups). someone who’s tender and affectionate towards people and everyone’s fond of (just like him fr). he wants to be with someone whos flirty seductive and charms him in…like when you’re talking to someone and you’re both interested on each of other and theres this…vibe in the room? just like that (knight of cups). he wants to be treated lovingly and likes pleasure very much…. probably wants a girl who enjoys sexual chemistry too (the empress). he wants to be attracted to her body and likes to be a little spoiled with compliments. when i asked things he DOESNT like the cards that showed up were pretty obvious (temperance and the hanged man). he hates when they’re stagnant or a connection is tepid, he likes MOVEMENT, energy and entertainment, someone that keeps him on his knees and interested. if things are just…warm…or…okay, he will walk away. even if its someone who makes him wait too much or hard to get, makes him bored. if he finds someone like that, he tends to be a little love dazed and feels completely blown away by them like that person turned his life upside down (the wheel of fortune). hell think about them a lot and do things to keep him close to them but in a balanced way, he doesn’t like to be clingy. but his intentions when he find them is to build something solid, he’ll like them fr and would want a relationship (10 of pentacles)

[gaylizardpersonn]

Ok buddie first kiss/getting together (very hopeful and not based in this realty)spec based on nothing other than my (completely factual always right) delusions

Ok so season 9 opens and buck is looking for apartments, chimney is captain, and hen and Eddie are paramedics together. Buck is going and viewing new places to live and Eddie’s just nitpicking everything about them, “oh that kitchens too small” “this natural light is terrible” “come on you don’t wanna live here this floor is uneven”. So Buck is like “dude WHAT” whatever opening emergency is going to happen happens. Then we get into main plot, Buck and Eddie are still tense about Buck moving out. The entire 118+co notices the frustration, so Hen and Eddie are doing paramedic stuff and Hen’s like “ok you obv don’t want him to leave, but he’ll be like…10 minutes away at most!!!” and then Eddie’s like “ I really like him being in my house, I love him being around Christopher, I love cooking with him, and cleaning with him, I like doing boring chores and movie nights and grocery trips with him” and Hen is very gently trying to push the feelings realization “ok….maybe you just want to be with him” and Eddie short circuits because he’s NOT GAY🙅and she stops talking about it (this happens for one-two episodes). Then he goes to hot priest and hot priest is like “the Bible says to love everyone, your not wrong for being gay BE GAY” so Eddie has his whole arc examining his past and upbringing and marriage and he has a whole realization INDEPENDENT OF BUCK!!! Then at the end of that he’s like yay im gay but now I HAVE! TO! TELL! BUCK! *thunder lightning screaming dramatic music que*

Then blah blah blah this stuff is getting mixed in with whatever other plots are going on and suddenly BOOM we’re at the mid season finale!!!!! They spend most of the episode ignoring/being mildly antagonistic of each other (like in 8x09). Then last 15 min of the episode we’re in Eddie’s house Buck is in the kitchen after dinner or something and he’s still definitely annoyed with Eddie for ruining his apartments. And Eddie comes in and he’s trying to talk to buck and he’s just absolutely butchering all his words and Buck thinks he’s mad at him cause he’s saying stuff like “Buck I don’t want you sleeping on the couch anymore ” “WELL I CANT MOVE OUT BECAUSE YOU SEEM TO HATE ALL MY APARTMENTS”. And they’re both just stumbling their way into an actual argument, Buck leaving for Maddie’s, but then Eddie just pulls Buck in Buck and kisses him (and Buck is wearing a cardigan here very important). And bucks like 😧 and Eddie’s like 😮 AND THATS THE MID SEASON FINALE CLIFHANGER😱.

[atopvisenyashill]

Since we’re in the mood to write aus/canon divergent - what if Ayra and Sansa were both captured by the Lannisters during Ned’s downfall. How would Ayra adapted to being a hostage? Would they allow the girls to be together (potentially drawing them closer) or separate them? And obviously the Littlefinger of it all.

i think about the girls getting stuck together literally all the time.

first of all, i do think catelyn has a better argument for trading jaime when it’s a fact the lannisters have both girls on hand, to a point that jaime might actually be Safely sent by robb. esp bc - i think it’s going to leak that the girls are being abused bc i think there’s no way joffrey isn’t publicly much worse if he has arya on hand. he does NOT like her, and he is NOT obligated to try to in his mind - sansa is his betrothed, he has to put up a front of sorts. arya, imo, would not get even that. i don’t know if his torture of her would be sexual the way it is with sansa, but if the events are that syrio dies trying to save arya but she gets caught anyway, she’s putting up a fight when she’s caught, she’s putting up a fight while she’s locked up, she’s gonna start biting people after they kill ned, and i think she’s smart enough to also know that they're likely doing something sinister to sansa as well, not to mention the rest of the household.

so even if, for example, cersei insists arya is kept under house arrest to avoid any weirdness, do we think arya is going to just stay there? i think that if ned isn’t executed, arya is willing to play along. once she’s locked up, she’ll stay quiet in her room, maybe even fake apologize to whoever she probably injured while being taken. but after ned is executed….i just think she’s going to take that + being separated from sansa and probably not knowing (but suspecting) what has happened to their entire household very badly. she has the ability to fawn at harrenhal because she has an identity to hide behind. being Arya Stark during this period i think would be really hard on her. and joffrey loves to get a rise out of people. it’s just a powder keg imo, and while i think tyrion Could put a stop to it, i think actual news about how ~the stark girls are being abused~ is going to leak out of king's landing.

once tyrion is in charge, i think, if given some time and space to calm down, i think arya could calm down? if we assume robb still doesn’t trade for them, or if idk its taking a minute, and arya is a Normal Hostage as opposed to Joffrey’s Hostage, i think that’s a situation arya could adapt to. and the girls…i think maybe in this scenario arya doesn’t actually see ned be executed, she probably just hears something happening outside? i imagine she’s probably told by joffrey dragging her out to look at ned’s head - maybe with sansa (like, Genuinely we’re in trouble here if they go out there together) or maybe separately (honestly probably better in the long run). i would Think this would make them both very “us against the world” but they’re also both kinda mean when they’re stressed out? i can see them fighting in the godswood a lot while publicly trying to put up a united front (i imagine their alone time is impacted and they aren't given much time just together?). especially as joffrey keeps tormenting sansa, and im sure picking at arya too, but more subtly - he’s not sneaking in comments about raping sansa without arya noticing he said something. does she want to talk to sansa about it or does she just think “i’m gonna be nicer to her tomorrow”? are they actively trying to understand each other or do they wind up breaking under the pressure?

i think the Jon of it might be underrated though - he's not likely to get explicit confirmation that anyone is being abused all the way up at the wall, but if that gets to him, that arya is being mistreated, i think he is much more likely to desert, whether thats defecting to the wildlings or just running off to join robb. and of course this massively changes things as the war goes on - if, say, arya and sansa are safely traded for jaime, what in the goddamn hell happens to them when theon takes winterfell? and there's no way one girl is escaping without the other if they've been hostages together for a year - so either lf has to figure out how to deal with arya (dear god) or arya perhaps discourages sansa from trusting dontos and the willas marriage happens? but this still puts a question on "where are the girls post red wedding" - because if they're together and they need help, jon is deserting and he's not thinking twice about it. he already deserts just for arya, there's no way if, say, Dontos grabs Sansa during the wedding, and then Arya convinces Sansa to ditch Dontos (he's drunk all the time, I actually think Arya could take him) and they try to get out together, they'd probably try to take a boat straight to the wall (i mean, that's what i would do and i think it would occur to arya). that man is not fucking around, he's getting his shit and he's leaving with the girls lol.

so anyways tldr i would assume Arya is willing to play nice until Joffrey inevitably brings her outside to gloat about killing the household + Ned, in which case I think she loses her mind immediately, which probably leads to some physical confrontations between her and Joffrey. Probably her and Sansa agree to bury the hatchet and by "bury the hatchet" I mean they don't talk about what's bothering them and let it build up emotionally because they got shit to deal with. Catelyn has a better chance of trading for the girls, but this isn't likely to happen until after Arya and Joffrey have had at least one fight, and I think that's very likely to start leaking out to the Northern faction that Joffrey is beating the girls. If Jon finds out, the night's watch is so fucking cooked lol.

[kitamars]

taking a minute

[shepscapades]

Contrary to popular belief etho and bdubs are not divorced and in this essay I will

[loislaneandherhimbohusband]

i’m convinced that literally every time clark looks at lois (especially when she’s in action), he just thinks to himself “yup, that’s my little menace to society. god i love her.” with like heart eyes. because clark kent is and always will be a lois lane fan first and a person second. and honestly same.

while whenever lois looks at clark (especially when he’s being a clumsy himbo) she just sips her coffee and thinks to herself “yup, that’s my hulking dork with all his rippling pectorals. god i love him.” with like do-me eyes. because lois finds his dorkyness (and his body) very attractive and she’s always dehydrated.

[prodigal-san]

Another Tomarry doodle before bed ✨

[lavender-rroses]

//JRWI RIPTIDE SPOILERS

talk to us

[ninboo]

their bedrooms side by side look like those “boys vs girls” memes

[finn-from-adventure-time]

I love watching mismag s2 because Evan and Sam are so in love and it makes me want to throw my body through a building. Every time they cut to their side of the table, Evan is looking at Sam like this.

He’s so in love with her it’s insane

[meteortrails]

forever thinking about nami and luffy…. they just. their relationship is so perfectly, consistently, and beautifully written?? (read more bc I care WAY too much about them).

like it would be so easy to slot them into the typical dynamic of her being a buzzkill and him being a reckless dick but that’s not them at all. she’s the first person he meets out on the sea who really, deeply understands what freedom means to him, how vital and important it is - it’s why she’s the one he lets hold and fix his hat, it’s why he waits until she asks him to help with arlong, it’s why he never begrudges her any of her actions in arlong park. he knows her autonomy is just as important to her as his is to him, that she fucking Gets It. she has the same joy and whimsy and protective instinct in her heart, and like recognizes like!!! so luffy lets nami run the day to day of the ship, order him around, hold his greatest treasure in her hands, bc he trusts that when the chips come down she will never abuse that power. she’ll have his back and follow through on whatever insane orders he has his heart set on bc she knows the weight of what she’s been entrusted with.

and like, in return, nami gets exactly as much responsibility as she wants for the first time in her life! she doesn’t have to be alone, doesn’t have to protect everything that matters all on her own - she has luffy and the crew for that now. she gets to be part of a crew, a family, while still remaining in charge of her own life. and in response to all that trust and love, nami is just as protective of luffy and this new home as she ever was of cocoyashi. he gave her back her freedom and put his dream in her hands without a second thought, and she will keep it safe come hell or high fucking water. like I don’t know how to express how emphatically I feel about this but she won’t betray him even to save her own life, even when he would never fucking know!!! nami often ends up being luffy’s primary pillar of emotional support bc she’s just such a consistently steady, faithful presence at his back; even when they disagree on important shit her trust in his judgement and ability to get them through the storm is unshakeable, and vice versa.

idk man I just really do not know how to express how much it matters to me that nami is canonically a ruthless, conniving, deathly stubborn, control freak bitch and that’s like. lowkey WHY luffy+the crew love her so much. idk how to explain how batshit insane the symbolism of her being his navigator and him being her captain makes me.

[thealdersgateoffice]

Saskia Reeves making Gary Oldman (and then herself) laugh hysterically with her observation about Jackson Lamb in season two of Slow Horses 🐌🐎

[napping-sapphic]

Get a little dizzy sometimes when i think about how there might be someone out there waiting to love me that they might be there wondering about who they might end up with in the future and that could be ME that they’re out there waiting for me to love them too like ohhh we’re so far apart but we’re both real and waiting and persevering just for the chance to meet each other some day like i feel winded

[stardustalien]

something that makes me insane about misty and natalie as characters is that both of them would know so little comfort from other people.

we know what nat’s parents are like and they’re not comforting their daughter. in fact, nat probably spent her childhood learning to hide her emotions because i’m betting the most important feelings in that trailer were her dads and she got told things like “i’ll give you something to cry about.” or just straight up punished for it. we see as an adult that she pushes everyone away when they get too close, she doesn’t have any stable relationships with anyone. she’s not someone who knows a gentle hand.

misty is a bit more complicated. we don’t really know much about her family but i would be shocked to learn that she had normal, loving parents. i think they’re very actively adding to isolation that their daughter experiences, whether it’s just because they work demanding jobs or if they’re actively as off-put by their daughter as everyone else is. and we know that Misty doesn’t have anyone in her adulthood, full stop. all her relationships are superficial at best, outside of her relationships with the yellowjackets, who actively want nothing to do with her for the most part. misty’s closest companion for her entire life is her fucking loneliness

and this is why i will continue to throw these two at each other like dolls and make them be nice to one another, even with all the shit between them. bc i genuinely can’t stand the amount of things they have in common that depress tf outta me