#in which we take the rollercoaster into the sea

[clubbingclown]

I’ve also been using my scrap sketchbook to make little comics using my sona Fortune (Unicorn). They’re a mix of real events and more just abstract-thoughts, plus just straight up fiction-storyline stuff for Fortune as thier own charater seprate from myself (very confusing I know). I’ll keep all the comics under the tag #in which we take the rollercoaster into the sea. Since thats the name I came up with for it. 

General trigger wanring for the future since I do want to use this medium to I guess vent about some stuff. I recently made one after trying to get my mom to use and respect my pronouns and I cannot even express how horrifically bad that went. I’m still fucking disgusted, evrey last word that came out of her mouth would’ve made J.K. Rowling blush. So yhea keep an eye out for that I guess. 

[whereforarthur]

So Much Restraint

Request: george (dom) smut where we have been on a group holiday and stopping ourselves from having sex cos of the other ppl (staying in the same villa/b&b) but once we get home its like practically clawing at each others clothes

Pairing: George Clarkey x Gf!Reader

Category: Smut

Word Count: 3.2k

*****

Those who restrain desire do so because theirs is weak enough to be restrained. - William Blake

George leaned against the railing of the villa balcony, his gaze following the boundary between the sea, which was as blue as the ocean, and the sky above. After daybreak, the warm hue of the blazing sun engulfed the clouds, displacing the surging sea below that had looked so blue at the break of dawn. The warm wind blew through a coconut palm, and one could detect the smell of the sea and tropical cream. He sighed and glanced at the heavens, taking in the final moments of solitude before the party commenced.

The past week was a rollercoaster of enjoyment and annoyance. He and his girlfriend, y/n, had to restrain themselves from giving in to each other so as not to disturb their mates on vacation, just nodding and winking at each other as they walked around the living spaces with their friends—Chris, Arthur Hill, and Arthur TV. The villa was very nice, but with people constantly around them, there was no way of giving in to the passion that had been threatening to ignite ever since they set foot in the villa.

As the sun set that evening, George was weak, wanting to give in to his desires. It was a standoff, a power struggle that had been going on all week, one that was palpable yet wordless. As he got up, he saw Y/N standing at the door as she looked straight at him, suggesting that she was fighting the same battle as him. She wore a light summer dress that hugged her curves perfectly.

“It's time for dinner,” Y/N whispered, her words resonating melodiously. ”They are waiting for us downstairs.”

George nodded, yet neither of them looked away from the other. “I know,” he said quietly, the roughness in his tone giving her goosebumps. "I can only imagine what we are going to get up to once we get home."

Silence filled the space between them when he moved closer, and despite the heat in the villa, he only wanted her closer. As if in response, Y/N’s hand slowly extended, touching his chest lightly and causing his spine to tingle.

George saw her looking back at him, and for what felt like hours but could only be a few seconds, an incredible sensation engulfed his entire body and mind. He pulled her closer, the touch of his lips on hers hard and passionate. This was the kiss of love, of desire, the kiss that had been waiting to happen and which was ready to unleash after being pent up for this long.

But as soon as they started, they stopped. Hearing the boy's laughter from the pool below pulled them back into reality. They separated hesitantly, both attempting to calm themselves down. “We can’t,” Y/N whispered, her cheeks burning red.

“I know,” he said, calming her down as he took her hand. “When we get home, I will show you exactly how much I’ve missed you.” It was in his voice that she found the assurance she needed, and with that, she pulled him closer, her arms around his neck as they kissed.

They disappeared from each other for a while; the sound of their pulse echoed with the thump of the sea waves. They were able to keep it to themselves, and the anticipation of the arrangement made it seem like a couple’s promise.

At dinner, they had to wade through desire, circle it like a choreographed dance, sit across from each other at the table with friends, laugh, and chat about the delicious meal and wonderful company. But every time George cast his gaze at Y/N, he could see the same desire in her eyes.

After the meal, they made their excuses, claiming jet lag and the need for an early night. The boys raised their eyebrows in amusement but said nothing.

In their room, George and Y/N took turns in the shower, the sound of water a tantalizing backdrop to their stolen kisses and gentle touches.

Once Y/N emerged, her skin dewy and smelling faintly of coconut, George found his resolve slipping once more. They were both sitting on the edge of the bed; their legs were entangled; they felt the insatiable desire to strip each other. “We can do this,” George whispered, his fingers rubbing through her wet hair. "We can wait; we’ve made it this far."

Y/N breathed in deeply and exhaled, nodding her head slightly. “We have to,” she repeated, her voice a little weary as desperation began to creep in. "If we start now, I don't know if we would ever be able to stop."

They stretched out on the bed, their naked bodies rigid with the agitation of unsatisfied desire. The villa was silent apart from the faint sound of the sea in the distance and laughter from the party in the streets. They could feel the adrenaline pumping through their veins and could virtually hear the sound of their hearts beating.

George’s fingers lightly touched Y/N’s inner thigh, lazing dangerously close to the line of her shorts. "The boys are already complaining about the noises we make at home," he said, though he couldn’t fully hide his amusement. “What would they say if they only knew we have been holding ourselves back?”

Y/N blushed at the thought, gripping the sheets beneath her tightly. “We’ve got to be so much louder at home,” she said, though there was obvious affront in her words. "It will make them think that we have gone mad.”

They smiled at each other, and the tension reduced for a while. But the underlying current persisted; it was an active, waiting-to-detonate-at-any-moment kind of omnipresent tension. George looked down at her and then placed his hand softly over her thighs, delicately tracing lines on her skin. He immediately stopped his movements and faced her as he whispered, “It doesn’t matter what they say.” He smirks at her, “As long as you’re screaming my name.”

Y/N’s eyes sparkled with delight, and she couldn’t help but gasp at what he said. It was a familiar move, a classic sign of affection, but she went further to touch his face, specifically the line of his jaw, a touch that seemed to power through him like volts of electricity. ‘And what about when we get home?’ she whispered. For many, a dangerous question is the provocative “What do you want to do to me?”

George squeezed her thigh gently and looked at her with lustful eyes. “Everything,” he said, his voice turning into a growl. ”I wish to devour every part of you, have you quiver in my embrace, and hear you scream out my name until your throat gets sore.”

Y/N felt her heart racing just at the thought of it, her pulse rate rising through the roof as high as it could go. "Won't the boys still be home?” she asked, her fingers tracing over his hand.

George chuckled darkly. “Oh, they will hear us alright,” he responded, his eyes alternating between naughtiness and amusement. “But it’s ‘our’ house and ‘our’ rules.” The words slither through the air like a sultry whisper before he continues: “And if I remember correctly, you enjoyed 'screaming’ my name without a care in the world before.”

The atmosphere in the room became oppressively heavy, and the tension was palpable. Y/N moved her hand up his chest; she ran her nails along the surface and felt him shiver under her touch. ‘I have missed you, she murmured lustfully.

But just when George was about to surrender to this desire to strip her naked and finally feel her, a sound from the next room brought them to a halt. It was the Arthurs' unmistakable, slurred laughter as the duo clumsily barged into the room.

“Maybe we should try to get some sleep,” Y/N said quietly, waking up with concern in her eyes. ‘I don't know what I would do if they ever walked in on us.’

George let out a long-suffering sigh, his limbs trembling in protestation for not giving in. “Alright,” he agreed, even though he felt an overpowering urge to demand more. They kissed one more time and then lay gently beside each other, their limbs touching in the darkness of the bed where they slept.

The night was full of insomnious, restless whispers and secrets of lips pretending not to ache for each other. They found themselves lying side by side, and the distance that separated them seemed enormous.

Each time George moved in the bed, it made a squeaky sound, and this made them realize the importance of keeping quiet. They would go to bed and only wake up in the wee hours of the morning with the air between them pregnant with desire.

The next day, like all the previous days, the vacation by the tropical sun had arrived with no special warning, different from the fact that it was the last of the vacation, and the day felt weighty with the expectation of what was to come.

They packed their bags, the mundane task feeling almost erotic as their eyes kept darting toward each other, silently acknowledging the unspoken tension.

On their way to the airport, George’s hand lightly touched Y/N’s thigh in the back of the taxi, which sent a spark between them. She gripped his hand tightly, her knuckles white, and he knew she felt the same desperation. The flight home was torture; each minute seated in the plane was a silent plea for satisfaction.

The feeling only grew more intense once they got to their flat in London that they shared with Chris and Arthur Hill.

As soon as they both stepped inside and the door shut, George pushed Y/N against the wall and went in for it, kissing her fiercely as he had been wanting to for the past two days. She moaned, overly aroused, the suppressed passion of their vacation reacting.

”I need you,” George repeated softly in her ear, his teeth lightly touching her tender skin.

Y/N immediately grabbed his chest and shoved him backward with such force that it made him stumble. “No, not here!” she replied with a passion that radiated throughout her body.

George stared at her, his expression feral and filled with desire. “Let them hear,” he whispered, the possessiveness clear in his voice. “Make sure they understand that they belong to me.”

Y/N’s breath caught at the blatant demand in his voice. She realized he was correct; they had to give in now; they couldn't wait anymore. They fumbled down the hall, their clothes torn off in a frenzy as they moved. The door to their room banged shut, making the flat resound with the sound.

Their kisses became more passionate as they collapsed onto the bed, desperate to make contact and to take possession of each other. George’s hands traveled all over her, familiarizing themselves with every bump and hollow, every plane and line. It walked its long fingers up her dress, past her hips, his eyes locked with her the whole time.

In his mind, George was already preparing a symphony of sensation for them to get erotically lost in. He wanted to feel her completely, hear the moans of passion, as he thrusts in her. The idea of giving into their desires, giving in to their perverse passion was like a drug to his mind; he became dizzy with all the feelings that stirred his inner conscience.

Y/N’s legs tightened around his waist as he placed her on the bed; the springs of the mattress squeaked gently. He did not mind if the whole house heard them; what mattered to him the most was the present, the touch of her body. Their lips met once more; this time he reached down near her hips and touched the softness of her thighs through the delicate material of her underwear.

“You are stunning, so, so beautiful,” he murmured huskily, running his eyes over the curves of her figure. " I dreamt about this every night."

Too excited to breathe properly, Y/N stared at him, her breasts rising and falling rapidly. "I wanna know what you’ve been dreaming about." She whispered seductively into his ear.

George tried to hide the darkness in his eyes as he whispered against her ear, leaning closer to her. ”I’ve dreamt of you open and spread for me, begging me to take you,” he said as his hand traveled higher up her thigh. “I have dreamt of your sweet cries echoing in the room as I continue to fuck you until you cum all over my cock.“

Y/N’s core tightened at the sound of his voice, a thrill of desire pulsating through her. She reached out her fingers around his hard erection, the warmth of it pulsating with his carnal need. “And what do you want now?” she whispered, her lips quivering with lust.

Obsession blazed in George’s gaze, his eyes fixed fiercely on hers as if he desired nothing else in this world. “Now,” he growled, the desire saturating his voice, “it is time to turn these dreams into reality.” Placing himself at her pussy, the head of his cock lightly pressing against her moist lips. “Are you ready for me?”

Again, Y/N’s eyes rolled back, and she let out a small moan. “Oh, much more than ready,” she exclaimed, burying her fingers into his muscles as he thrust deep into her. The feel of him inside of her was something she was yearning for. She moaned as she felt the fullness in her stomach.

The room was filled with their lovemaking: the sound of skin against skin, the creak of the mattress, the ragged panting. It was sweet music that only the two of them heard—an opera that unfolded within the confines of the room they both occupied. The zeal of their love deepened with every touch, with every kiss and every murmured endearment they exchanged.

”Scream for me,” George encouraged, his words heavy with passion as he thrust into her. His large palms were covetous, grasping her, possessing her, as if he had to stake out his claim on her.

Y/N closed her eyes, surrendering to his dominance effortlessly. She threw back her head, her nipples rubbing against his bare skin, and cried out as he hit the spot within her that seemed to make her shudder with delight. It was a sound that rang through the silence of the flat, a proclamation of happiness that appeared to shiver the pillars of their existence.

At the sound of her moans George began to rotate his hips even more exaggerated. He could sense it constricting around him, her thighs clamping around his middle as she clung to him. The pressure was intense, the tension that had accumulated on their trip was finally being set free, and George felt that he was close. He stretched one hand towards her, and his fingers quickly located her clit, pressing on it firmly but lightly.

"You are so wet," he whispered with a throaty growl that revealed how much he desired me. "So fucking wet for me."

Y/N blinked slowly, and her eyes were wide with desire as she gazed up at him. “More,” she pleaded, sulky and breathy, her tone sending a bolt of pleasure straight to his cock. "Tell me what you want to do to me, George."

Panting heavily, George followed the demand to release, his voice turning into a deep and monstrous growl. “I want to fuck you until you cannot walk straight,” he whispered, his hips thrusting into her with renewed vigor as the bed frame creaked. “I want to tear you apart and hear you scream my name as if it is the most important thing in the whole wide world.”

Y/N’s eyes rolled back in her head, her body reacting to his every word. "Harder," she begged, digging her nails into his back. "I want it all, George. Every inch of you."

George felt his stroke become more strained, his words dirty to the rhythm of their bodies. "You take it all in," he told her, his voice a whisper. "Every fucking inch." She felt him stiffen against her, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. "You'll come so hard, you'll see fucking stars."

Y/N’s moans grew louder, filling the room with the sweet sound of her pleasure. "I'm so close," she admitted, her voice shaky and hoarse. "I'm going to cum all over your cock."

George's eyes darkened with desire at her words. "Do it," he demanded, his voice a rough command. "Cum for me, baby. Show me how much you need it."

Y/N’s body reacted to his command, her orgasm crashing over her like a wave. She screamed his name, her walls clamped together, her nails driving into his back. The feeling was too much, too perfect, and he knew this was just the beginning of their reunion.

"Yeah," George sighed, letting his release run out. "That's it, baby. Take it all." He leaned over and captured her lips in a crushing kiss, drowning out her screams as their bodies moved in perfect unison. The words that left his lips were a mixture of love and lust, a promise of all the dirty things he wanted to do to her.

"I'm going to fill you up," he whispered, his teeth brushing against her earlobe. “I want to hear you beg for more. Tell me to never stop fucking you.”

Y/N gasped, the words sending shivers down her spine. “Yes,” she gasped. Her voice was barely audible over the sound of their bodies clashing. “I need you, George.”

He moaned, and his voice echoed in her chest. “You are so fuckable,” he muttered, his hips thrusting deeper into her with every thrust. “I love how you feel this way, so wet, so hot, so perfect.”

Y/N's eyes rolled back into her head as she felt the pressure increase again. With her core tightening around him, "Come on, darling," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of their bodies slapping together. “I want to feel you fill me completely.”

Those words were like a catalyst for George. His body responded to the primal urge to fill her up. To mark her as his own, he thrusted one last time. His cock throbbed as he released his seed deep inside her. The feeling was almost overwhelming. A sense of ownership that sent shock waves through his body.

Y/N felt it too. Her body trembled with pleasure as he poured into her. It was a time of pure connection. Moments that seem to last forever.

"Fuck," George said to himself, planting his head on her shoulder. "That was…"

"Perfect," Y/N told him precisely. Her body was still trembling with the shivers of pleasure. Together, they lolled there for a moment, their hearts beating as one, their breathing the only sound in the room.

The following days raced by in a haze of lust and gratification; every opportunity they got, George and Y/N would find a remote spot to give in to their insatiable lust for each other. It could be a quickie in the kitchen or a marathon in their locked-door bedroom listening to music. Whatever it was, they made the most out of it.

*****

Taglist~

@gvf23 @xxkatxgracexx @kneelforloki

[myownwholewildworld]

11. NO MATTER WHAT?

chapter 10 | main masterlist | ao3 | series masterlist | chapter 12 pairing: post-outbreak!joel x f!reader. summary: in your pursuit to find tommy, you find out something else. a/n: hello there! c: eeeeeek we are getting close to the endgame here! i finally sat down and wrote down small summaries for the next chapters so i could have a better idea of how many there were actually left - a total of 15 plus an epilogue. so this story will be drawing to a close soonish but in the meantime, please enjoy this rollercoaster :D all interactions welcome, i'd like to read your thoughts on this! take care <3 x warnings below the cut! please beware, they contain MAJOR spoilers so read them at your own peril. don't come at me please. dividers by @saradika-graphics w/c: ~7.8k. taglist aka the drama wagon at the end of the chapter (let me know if you want to be added/removed from the list pls!)

warnings: 18+, mdni. some smutty smut. masturbation (m and f receiving). unprotected piv. sprinkles of anxiety, anguish and angst here and there. unplanned pregnancy. tempers run a bit high. sarah is in joel's mind. reader is female, no other description given. reader is mid-late 20s, joel is 37. no use of y/n.  joel’s and reader’s pov.

“How are you feeling?”

Joel’s voice brought you back to reality, along with a slam of the driver’s door. Your mind had been drifting away, almost falling into a slumber, for the past thirty minutes. You had not even realised that the car had stopped until Joel closed the door behind him.

Your elbow was propped against the window frame, your face buried in the crook of it. Slowly you blinked with a pitiful groan, straightening out your crouched back. For the past month, sleep had been evading you. Funny that, considering how fucking tired you were. And the more tired you were, the more difficult it was to fall asleep. Your bones ached, your joints hurt, your mind was fuzzy ― you felt terrible overall. Many mornings you felt sick too, which did not help. On a few occasions you had woken Joel up with your retching ― and every time, he stayed awake with you, not even once did he complain.

The dreadful pain would vanish gradually over the course of the day and would worsen at night again. The clicker’s bite on your forearm had almost healed, but there were some tiny parts of it that were still open and oozed from time to time ― it didn’t matter how hard you both tried to keep it clean. Fits of itchiness would overcome you and Joel had to pin your wrists against his chest so you would not make the gash worse.

The first week after you were marked, you had actually been doing alright. The thrill of the moment and the adrenaline rushing through your veins as you crossed Illinois were, most probably, what had kept you standing on your feet.

And now that the imminent feeling of death had faded, Chicago well behind you, your body was begging you for a fucking break. But there were no breaks in the apocalypse.

“Darlin’?”, Joel placed his hand on your left thigh.

“Tired.” You sighed heavily as you rubbed your eyes with the heels of your hands. “I can’t sleep.”

“I know, sweetheart.” He lightly squeezed your thigh between his fingers, and you finally looked at him, a weak smile smoothing out your lips. “We’ll find a proper place to stay tonight.”

“Where are we?”, you asked, looking through the passenger’s window.

You had stopped in the middle of a road. A sea of green surrounded you ― a dense wood of pine and oak englobed the asphalt. And then, further afield on your left, you could see blue and sandy brown in between the trees. There was a mist coming off the water and blurring the atmosphere, giving the whole scene a mystic, eerie feeling.

“Lake Ontario, just circumvented Buffalo. I saw the gas station and thought to give it a go”, he explained, pointing with his thumb through the driver’s window.

Then you saw the service station he was referring to.

“Any luck?” You hovered your hand over his on your thigh and intertwined your fingers. His warmth was comforting in the bare coldness of January.

“Surprisingly yes. I was able to siphon out around four gallons from one of them pumps. I’ve just put it all in our tank. Should be more than enough to get to Oswego, even with detours.” Even though Joel’s voice was calm, you could tell he was preoccupied.

You gave his hand a gentle squeeze, his eyes meeting yours. He was doing so much for you, and basically all on his own. He drove you out of Chicago while the whole city got swamped by hordes of clickers. For the first week after that day, you both took turns to drive and keep watch at night, but when your body finally gave in, you completely relied on him.

He hadn’t told you out loud, but you could see the worry darkening his chocolate eyes with greyish circles underneath. You knew he was concerned about your health, about the car and gas, about the food, about the safety of being back in the wilderness. Joel was taking good care of you ― you had been so blinded by your own battles that you had not even expressed your gratitude.

“I’m sorry I’m not much help. Thank you for―”

“Don’t even mention it.” He cut you off instantly, pulling from your laced hands so your cheek would land on his chest. “You’re sick, honey. It’s the least I can do.”

Joel’s balmy lips pressed against your forehead. You closed your eyes, letting his warmth seep into your cold bones, softening your taut muscles. You looked up at him with your mouth agape and Joel bowed down to brush your lips with his ― a chaste kiss in a rare moment of peace and quiet.

“I’ll drive to Pembroke and find a house ― we’ll spend the night there and resume the trip in the late morning or early afternoon, depending on how you’re feeling. Sounds good?”

You nodded, burrowing your cheek in his padded jacket. You both stayed still for a couple more minutes before Joel, with a heavy sigh, pulled back to introduce the key in the ignition and start the car.

For the last three weeks, you both had been reassessing your options. Chicago had been an idyllic dream for a short while, but congregating so many people in a small space seemed to have been a siren’s call for the clickers. After much debating, Joel and you had decided to stay away from civilisation.

It had also taken you as long to convince Joel to find Tommy. It was more than obvious that the brothers were not on good terms, considering how the younger one had threatened to kill you the moment he found out you had been bit. You couldn’t blame him for it, as you were sure you would have reacted the same way.

But Joel was not so inclined to forgive his brother. Tommy had made him choose between you and him, told him to get rid of you, even when he had tried to tell the younger Miller what his true feelings for you were. And despite it all, Tommy had ditched you both. But especially Joel, when he needed family the most ― when the dire situation required Tommy to step up, he had stepped down. With that you did not agree, obviously, although you could somewhat understand Tommy’s actions.

After long, dragging talks, Joel had agreed to look for Tommy. The group he was with was not the most convenient if their behaviour in Chicago was to be taken into account. The drugs, the alcohol, the late nights ― they could not afford such way of life out there, not without the safety net of a whole town. Tommy was the only family Joel, and by extension you, had left ― despite it all, family protected family.

Somewhere in Lake Ontario was the safest bet to find him. Laney would listen to Tommy, and if Joel was right, he would pick the same town the older Miller would: Oswego, especially in winter. That was where the Miller brothers and their father would go ice fishing on their weekend trips, so both of them were acquainted with the land.

The purring sound of the engine smothered your thoughts until that was all you could hear. Your eyelids felt heavy, dry even, so you unknowingly let them close with a deep sigh before you were lost to your dreams.

“Darlin’,” Joel stroked your hair, his fingers curling on your chin. “We’re here.”

Slowly you blinked, coming out of your sleepy stupor. Joel was standing outside the passenger’s door, the cold breeze bursting into the cabin. You had dozed off so hard, you had not even heard him leaving the car and opening your door.

“Can you walk? I can carry you.” He asked, no shade of doubt in his words.

Imagining Joel carrying you through a doorframe as if you were newlyweds made you smile. Maybe in a different lifetime or in a parallel universe could you have that destiny. Not in this one, sadly.

“I’m fine walking.”

Joel’s eyes met yours, a slight tilt to his head indicating he did not get why you were smiling. You waved your hand as if to say, “don’t worry about it”, and tried to step out of the car, but his frame was blocking your exit.

You cocked an inquisitive brow.

“What? You don’t think I can?” The challenge in his voice was there, ready for you to pick on it.

You laughed it off as you stirred in your seat, your legs dangling off the car seat now in between his legs. Joel didn’t budge one inch.

“I know you can. You’ve proved it a few times now.” You hoped that would ease him.

Joel grunted and you knew he was considering proving it to you once more. But you didn’t give him the chance to do so, standing up so close to him your body slammed into his. A strong arm wrapped around your waist to prevent you from falling back on to the car seat.

His welcoming mouth was so near hovering over yours, your mind just went poof for a second. Joel’s imposing presence always clouded your judgment, especially when he was this close to you. He made all your neuron synapses go haywire, even more when you were tired and achy.

“And you won’t let me show you again, I take it?” He whispered, his lips intently moving against yours with every word, your lungs taking in his sweet breath as if his oxygen was the only one that could truly feed them.

You were barely able to shake your head no. And then some neurons finally connected, allowing you to place a hand on his hard chest to push him back a bit with a sufficient grin.

“You won’t bewitch me so easily, Miller.”

He cackled, taking a step back and shaking his head with disbelief.

“You hurt my feelings, darlin’.” He faked some puppy eyes that made you swoon a little, but didn’t give in.

“I sure do…” You muttered, the shared joke letting you forget your fatigue.

Getting out of the car, the piercing January breeze knifed your skin. You were not accustomed to the northern cold ― Texas had treated you well with fairly mild winters but scorching hot summers. There had been instances where the Texan weather reached freezing temperatures, but it was not as common as up here.

You walked around the Jeep with Joel by your side, his arm draped around your shoulders to keep you close to his body heat. He had parked the car in between some tall, thick, evergreen bushes, tucked away out of sight. He then pointed to a house ― single storey, with a washed green façade and a tiny porch with a white door.

A couple of minutes later, you were inside. It was still cold, but not as bad as it was out there. The living room was small and outdated with clashing hues of brown, red and orange. The curtains were drawn, and it smelt a bit musky, layers of dust sitting atop the furniture. You were not expecting a five-star hotel, so this place would definitely do. It was isolated and off the main roads, so there would be less chances of running into some undesirable situations. Or people ― especially people.

You braced yourself to keep your core temperature as high as possible, and Joel noticed it.

“There’s a chimney but can’t get a fire going. It would give us away.” You could hear the unspoken apology in his tone. “But I’ve left a pile of blankets there.”

Joel pointed to the old-fashioned, floral-stamped couch that reminded you of one in your grandparents’ house. The quilts were bunched together, and all of your packed belongings were sitting on the floor ― you guessed Joel had taken everything out of the car while you had a little power nap.

As you approached and ran your fingers through the fleece to test the softness of the fabric, Joel grabbed one and wrapped you in it like a burrito.

“Do you have your gun?” He asked, lifting your chin up.

You nodded ― you always had it fastened to your belt. Since Chicago, you made sure you were armed at all times.

“Good. I need you to stay here while I go have a snoop around town.” He whispered, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

You squinted your eyes with dissent, and then took off the blanket that he had covered you with to leave it on the couch.

“Not gonna happen, gorgeous. I’m coming with you.” Not because you were afraid of being left alone, but because you did not trust this world you lived in. If something was about to happen while he was out and about, you wanted to be right by his side.

He rolled his eyes at you but knew better than fighting you on this.

“So stubborn, aren’t you?”

“You wouldn’t love me any other way.” You replied with a beaming smile, lacing a hand with his and pulling him towards the door.

Joel snorted, a warm tautness nipping at the corner of his mouth.

“That’s true.”

“Chef Boyardee’s Beefaroni?” You read the label of a tin can out loud, brows pinching with amusement. “I thought they had gone out of business ages ago.”

“What? Of course not.” You could tell he was offended by the tone of his voice.

You smirked when he trotted towards you and snatched the can off your hand.

“It’s one of the best brands out there for canned food.” He lectured you, sliding the can in his backpack.

“I prefer anything from Campbell’s a thousand times over.” You jested as your hands travelled through the almost empty shelves, finding a sample of that same brand. “Their canned spaghetti is unbeatable.” You pinched your fingers together and smacked your lips, as if you were an Italian chef blowing a kiss.

“Do not start this feud between us, sweetheart. I can forgive many things, but not this senseless provocation.” His words were imbued with harshness, but his lips were softened by a crooked smile.

You giggled, putting away the can in your backpack, and proceeded to wander off further in the grocery store until you reached the pharmacy section. Medical supplies were really hard to come by and with an open wound like yours, they were very much needed. So, you rummaged through the shelves ― you would take anything you could find.

After a few minutes, you had located some sterile wound dressings, a couple of roller bandages, cleansing wipes and a small bottle of rubbing alcohol. You had also found one pack of expired painkillers ― you could not get too picky with expiry dates on the apocalypse.

You knelt down to put everything away in your rucksack when something caught your attention. There was a single pack of sanitary pads sitting at the back of the bottom shelf. Feminine hygiene products were so hard to come by, you seized it in the blink of an eye.

In doing so, you hit another cardboard box out of the way. Curious, you grabbed it and turned it around in your hands. The white letters against the blue background read, “Clearblue Easy digital pregnancy test.” You had seen the TV ads before the world went to shit, but didn’t pay them too much attention. Apparently, it was a new technology with a digital screen that would show the words “Pregnant” or “Not pregnant”. Fancy stuff, really. You kept on reading the small text on the package, mindlessly interested.

Your period should have come a few days ago. But ever since your teen years, it was never regular, making it very hard to predict ― so it didn’t worry you too much. In fact, it was completely normal for you, so you put the box back down on the shelf.

Wait. What day is it? You suddenly thought, trying to recall an image of a calendar in your head. With your fingers curled in a fist, you lifted one at a time while you did the mental calculations.

Then it hit you. Your period was not just a few days late, but two weeks. The latest it had ever been was five days, so fourteen ―fuck, fifteen!― days were definitely not normal for your cycle. Your hands began shaking as you started counting again ― maybe you had forgotten how to do basic maths mentally?

Your heart was pounding so hard and fast, a rush of blood heavily pumping through your eardrums, you almost missed Joel’s call.

“Hey, sweetheart. Where are ya?” His booted steps were fast approaching.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. HOLY SHIT. FUCK.

Panic boiled inside you as you wildly looked around ― Joel’s shoes were on the other side of the shelves.

Just in the nick of time, you shoved the pregnancy test box down in your bag, hiding it between all the other bits you had collected, just as Joel turned the corner into the corridor you were at.

You tried your best to feign normalcy as Joel inched forward towards you and extended a hand to help you get up. You accepted it and stood up, trying to hide your eyes away from him by pretending to secure your backpack.

“Did you find anything useful?” He innocently asked, and you almost choked with the bare air that filled up the room.

“Y-yeah,” you tried your best not to stutter, but your nerves had a tight grip on your vocal cords, “some first aid stuff for my wound.”

Why were you omitting your most important finding? Joel should be aware; you should tell him about what was plaguing you right now.

But you didn’t. Don’t want to worry him unnecessarily if it’s just a false alarm, you told yourself.

Joel cocked his head, and you were sure he had perceived your nervousness, but he didn’t press the matter, for which you were grateful.

“Let’s go back then. Found some more food and hygiene stuff ― a couple of toothbrushes, ain’t it exciting?” He grinned and you made your best effort to return the gesture.

“You do know how to make someone’s day.” You joked back, but your feeble attempt at normality ate at his conscience.

It was well past midnight and Joel felt you stirring in his arms. The couch was not too big, so any small movement would startle him awake. Not that he was really sleeping anyway, too worried about the threats out there that could ruin the fragile peace of the night.

Your elbow sank in his ribs, and he swallowed a painful grunt.

“Sorry, Joel. I just can’t find the posture to fall asleep. I can go to the other couch if you―”

“Nonsense.” He interrupted you before you could suggest sleeping apart.

Maybe the couch was not the best option, but the bedroom was far too exposed to the main road for his liking. The living room, on the other hand, was facing towards the back of the property and was close to the door that led to the backyard, where the Jeep was hidden. So you both had to make do with the uncomfortable sofa.

He liked having you splayed out on top of him, your cold toes pressed against his bare feet looking for some warmth. He had covered you both with three thick blankets, your head almost tucked underneath with your cheek resting on his chest.

He stroked your hair, knowing that something was off. Joel could not pinpoint what exactly, but he was sure there was something on your mind worrying you. It pained him that you wouldn’t share what it was, especially after everything you had been through together. There should be no need to fence off your feelings away from him, but he understood that he couldn’t push you to share with him whatever preoccupied your mind.

Mainly because he also had worries of his own that he kept to himself. Like keeping you alive, for instance. How close Joel had been to losing you had unleashed a new wave of anxiety ― there was no room for mistakes anymore, he had promised himself. He would die before having you in harm’s way again.

You snuggled against his chest, looking for some comfort, while his arms embraced you tighter. Then he felt one of your cold hands snaking under his tee shirt, caressing his lower tummy.

His body reacted unwillingly at your touch, your hand too close to where he liked it most. Joel took a deep breath, and you snickered above him.

“You okay?” You teased, chin planted on his left pec and wicked eyes staring up at him.

“Mhmm,” was his way of saying yes. “Are you achy?”

“If you mean if something hurts, then no. I took two painkillers a couple of hours ago, so I’m actually pain-free right now. If you mean achy, like really achy… then yes.” Your voice lowered to a seductive whisper, your thumb rubbing the hairy trail running down his belly button.

“Jesus fucking Christ, honey.” He cooed when the same hand dipped under the waistband of the loose pants he used for sleeping.

“Are you achy, Joel?” You whispered in his ear as your fingers curled around his length.

“You need to rest―” He started scolding you, but you were having none of it.

You squeezed his manhood so sweet, with the perfect amount of pressure, he could not finish the sentence because a groan bubbled up his throat.

“I need to stop overthinking stuff, and I can think of a way to achieve that…” You purred again, your hand so still it was driving him crazy.

“What’s on your mind?” Even through the sensual haziness, he worried about you. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing important… Don’t worry about it,” you husked, kissing the corner of his mouth.

Your fingers firmly clutched around his girth while you began pumping him. Joel closed his eyes, swallowing a growl ― anything he was thinking about, had just gone out of the window of his mind.

He hunted down your mouth until a sultry dance of tongues ensued, your hand stroking his beating cock with determination. Joel fisted one of your ass cheeks when his balls began to feel heavy and hot. He then positioned you on top of him, straddling him, and sat up a little on the couch, the small of his back resting against the arm of the couch.

You pulled down his pants and underwear, freeing his demanding and leaking erection. You did not like to waste a drop, not even a tiny one, so you quickly smothered his sensitive head with your thumb, smearing the precum over his tip. Joel loved it when you did that.

Leaving a trail of wet kisses where your neck met your shoulder, Joel helped you remove your pants and panties; then cupped your molten core, his palm completely flushed against your needy pussy lips. You whimpered something unintelligible as his index finger dunked in your slick slit.

Joel loved how your velvety fold seeped for him. He lightly stroked that tight bud of nerves, while his middle finger quickly joined the other in the warm wetness of your pussy. It slid off your tackiness until it found your begging entrance. Joel circled it a few times, his thumb now attending your pulsing clit, until he dived it in.

You moaned audibly and your hand stilled around his throbbing dick. Joel felt relief when you finally resumed the pumping of his cock, most probably spurred on by his relentless fingering. The wet, sucking sounds your pussy was making around his finger was driving him mad with lust, especially when you tightened your walls around it.

His wandering middle finger sunk in your weeping hole too. Joel curled them both towards the front, caressing the soft, spongy spot that made you go wild with desire, while his thumb worked your clit diligently.

He knew you were lost to him the moment you let go of his hard, pulsating cock and placed your hands on each of his shoulders, finding your balance. You jerked your hips up and down on his lap as if you were riding his cock, your swollen cunt squeezing his fingers ever so sweetly.

“That’s it, baby. Come for me. Come on my fingers, I know you want it.” He goaded you while his free hand stroked his steely dick.

Joel felt the pulsation of your walls, what a tight grip they had on his fingers, announcing your orgasm. And before you tipped over the edge of your arousal, Joel took them out with a loud, squelching pop.

“J-Joel, p-please...” A pitiful whine escaped your mouth when you thought he was about to deny you an orgasm, but he wasn’t so cruel.

Joel forced your hips down on his beating cock, your creamy cunt sheathing him perfectly ― your quivering hole so well trained to stretch around him just enough. He held you down, impaled by his shaft, and then intensely circled your thudding clit again until you came hard on him. The intensity of your climax transformed your beautiful features ― the prettiest portrait he had ever set his eyes on.

This was his personal paradise, with you sat down on his lap and his engorged cock completely buried between your damp flaps. He didn’t know if it was voluntarily or not, but your walls kept on trembling around his dick, your face tilted upwards towards the ceiling. He could picture you with your mouth agape and eyes closed as you felt the last waves of your pleasure.

Joel released your waist and stroked your buttocks, burying his face between your regrettably covered breasts.

“Ride my cock, darlin’. Ride me hard and fast. Wanna feel this pussy of mine doing her job, working my dick as she should. What she was made for.” Joel could not ―would not― stop talking, knowing how much it turned both of you on.

Joel leaned back a bit while you looked for his mouth to muffle both of your moans. With the help of your knees comfortably placed on either side of him, you started swaying your hips back and forth, sitting on his pulsating, hot dick and almost releasing it entirely.

The pace you picked up was maddening, devilish even. You would harshly come down on him and then took your sweet time to free his manhood. Your motions grew savage and erratic, and Joel aided you by cupping both of your ass cheeks, guiding your rhythm and fucking up into you, meeting every thrust with one of his own.

The kiss got so sloppy you both needed a breather ― and you took the opportunity to sink your face in the crook of his neck while mewling like a kitten in heat, your saliva pooling on his skin while your hips smoothly rocked on top of him.

“I-I’m coming again, I can’t―” Your faltering voice tickled the wet skin of his neck.

“Let go, darlin’. Come for me, squeeze me hard, harder―” Joel didn’t need to incite you anymore, because as soon as he touched your writhing clit again, you melted all over him.

“Oh, fuck, Joel, yes― Mhmmm… A-ah…” You shrieked uncontrollably, choking his throbbing shaft with your squiring cunt, his mushroom head dragging on your g-spot just right.

Your cream coating his lap so thickly sent him down a spiral of lust he had learnt to crave. Joel felt the deep pulse, his veiny cock twitching with anticipation. Making use of the last remnants of his logic, Joel cupped your ass and push it up, so his dick slipped out of you just in time, the knob shyly and briefly caressing that tight ring.

With his needy erection lodged between your ass cheeks, he came hard with a guttural growl ― white, thick spurts of cum shooting up and landing on the curve of your buttocks. His head tilted back, rejoicing in the pleasure that was washing over him, exposing his neck to your sinful mouth. You scratched the stubble on his jaw with bare teeth, and then bit down on his skin, marking him yours.

His softening cock spasmed one las time in the fold of your skin, as Joel slowly came back to his senses, foraging for your lips. This time the kiss was not messy but needy as both of you came down from the high of your shared ecstasy.

“Joel,” you whispered into his mouth, “I love you. You know that, right?”

His chest swelled with your love confession ― he would never grow tired of you saying it out loud. But this time there was a different note to your admission, one he did not know how to interpret. There was as much love as there was doubt. Maybe you just needed some reassurance, albeit he did not see why.

He nuzzled your cheek before chastely pecking your reddened lips.

“Yeah, I know.” His mouth ghosted over your closed eyelids, caressing the delicate skin. “I love you too, no matter what.”

“No matter what?” You asked under your shaky breath.

“Yes, no matter what.” There was no hesitation whatsoever. He truly meant it.

You had never bit your nails before, but that was everything you could do while you waited for the pregnancy test to develop.

How could you be in this situation? You both were always careful, with Joel finishing outside every time. Except for that one night, you thought. The night you both believed to be your last. “Please, Joel, I want to feel you, I need to feel you,” you had whispered to him at the top of your climax, blind to the fact that those words would seal your fate.

Nothing you could do take it back. If you wanted to take it back, that was.

And then there was last night. You felt extremely guilty for using sex as a distraction, but you panicked. That “I need to stop overthinking stuff” had escaped your mouth before you could stop it and Joel, as perceptive as he was, had picked up on it. Sometimes you wished he couldn’t read you like an open book.

The wait was killing you, your racing thoughts going over every single scenario your brain could come up with. All the good and the bad flashing before your eyes ― and you were so intent on focusing on the bad.

This world was not made to be lived in. Surviving was not guaranteed, death closing in at every turn of the path. And if it was hard enough for yourself, how would it be for a tiny, helpless baby? What kind of life would you be giving them? There were too many things that could happen, too many threats out there ― not only the dead, but also the ones who lived. If the apocalypse had taught you anything, it was that the living could not be trusted.

What if you died? Or even worse, what if your baby died? What if you couldn’t protect them? What if someone hurt them? What would you do then?

But before all of that, you would have to go through a pregnancy in a world where coming by some measly tampons was already a fucking miracle. All the complications you could face paled in comparison to how that baby could suffer during childbirth if something went wrong.

And then there was Joel. How would he react? You had never spoken about this, so you truly had no idea what his thoughts were on the matter. He was a dad, always would be ― and you knew how much it hurt him to be a childless father. How much he missed Sarah. How much he regretted everything he didn’t do that fateful September night. Perhaps Joel would see this baby as a blessing ― or a death sentence. It was impossible to tell.

Would he stay with you, or would he abandon you? Would he want to keep the baby?

Did you want to keep the baby?

A dense knot formed in your throat as tears gathered at the edges of your eyes, your foot nervously tapping the linoleum on the floor. A metallic tang suddenly flooded your sense of taste, and you removed your thumb from your lips ― you had nipped at your cuticle so bad, it had started bleeding.

You sucked on the wound in the hopes it would stop bleeding while your eyes were transfixed on the test, your heart pounding so hard it was climbing up your throat.

Then a change on the screen made your heart jolt painfully.

You lunged forward, hand extended. Your fingers were shaking so much, the test dropped from your grip and hit the sink, falling facedown. With trembling hands, you reached for it again and turned it around.

The world stilled.

Pregnant.

And then the world spun around you.

Your vision went white for a second, your other hand grasping the edge of the counter tight to prevent you from falling. Your knees were quivering so much you ended up sitting down on the lidded toilet, trying to control your quick breathing.

Tears inevitably welled up as your new reality slowly dawned on you. A part of you wanted this child so much, so badly, it was overwhelming. Before Cordyceps, you had always wanted to be a mother but thought it would never happen when your last relationship broke off. Then the apocalypse happened, and such desire got drown by your new priorities, so never really gave it another thought.

And now your long-forgotten yearning was staring right back at you. A crack of happiness forced its way through your heart and for a brief second, you smiled through the tears. Maybe this was not what you had planned, maybe it was selfish of you ― you had not even met this baby yet, and you knew you would give your life for them.

A knock on the bathroom door derailed your train of thought.

“Baby, are you okay?” Joel’s voice came through the plank of wood separating you.

And a part of you was scared to bits. Sheer panic was what made you spring up to your feet, your hand still holding the pregnancy test.

“Y-yeah!” You quickly answered, wiping away your tears as you shoved the test down in one of the pockets of your backpack.

Tell him. I should tell him. He has the right to know. This baby is as much his as they are mine.

You tried to convince yourself and were determined to share the news, but the moment you opened the door and were faced with Joel, fear took over your being and the words got stuck at the back of your throat.

You smiled at him as if nothing happened, as if your world had not been turned upside down a minute ago.

“Yeah, all good,” you said, your smile a little bit wider as you kept the tears at bay.

Joel’s eyes squinted ever so slightly, but if he suspected something, he didn’t say.

“Are you ready to go? Everything’s in the car,” he asked, his fingers seeking yours to pull you into the corridor.

“Perfect, let’s go.”

No matter what. He said no matter what. This is “no matter what.” Just say it. It’ll be fine. It’s okay. Say it.

“Joel?” You whispered his name, a fleeting moment of bravery.

His head turned around to look at you over his shoulder as he walked a step ahead of you.

“Yeah, darlin’?”

Now. Speak up. Say the words. He won’t leave you. He’s a dad. Always have been. He’ll understand. It’s okay. Say it. Come on, open your mouth and just say it!

“I think I’ve forgotten my toothbrush, sorry,” the words left your mouth before your brain could register them.

You had panicked again and wanted to hit yourself for it. Why the sudden lack of trust? He loved you and you loved him. That was all that mattered, right?

You turned on your heels before he could see your glassy eyes and scurried away to retrieve a toothbrush that was already packed away in your backpack.

The detour to get to Oswego was eating up most of the fuel. For three days Joel had driven around, stalking out different roads to access the town. Perhaps he was paranoid but preferred to err on the side of caution. Chicago was still fresh on his mind, so the idea of getting close to civilisation again was not dear to him.

As much as he tried to focus, he was also distracted. You had been acting as always, but there was this nagging thought in the confines of his mind that told him there was something wrong. Joel did not know what it was but sensed something different in your attitude.

You were not distant with him, but you were cautious, almost reticent. Maybe coming closer to a town bothered you too, although he did not understand why. It was you who had suggested looking for Tommy, as much as he first loathed the idea.

He had been thinking about the reunion with Tommy since you both set your path towards Oswego. Joel did not know what to expect because Tommy could be as volatile as he was. He knew Tommy meant well, but in the end, he had left him behind when Joel needed his support the most. That memory, that betrayal, still stung ― badly. But according to you, forgiving and moving on would do wonders for him.

His thoughts drifted back to you as he watched you rummage through your backpack, looking for a lighter ― you were far enough from humanity and clickers that a little fire to boil some water with tea leaves before going to bed would not be an issue with the dense foliage sheltering you both. This was a quick pit stop before finding a house to spend the night.

Joel could not put his finger on what was bothering you, that harrowing feeling never truly left him since the night you spent on Pembroke. In retrospect, he even wondered if you had worked him up that night because he had asked you what was in your mind and did not want to answer him.

Whatever it was, you seemed intent on not sharing your worries with him. He was slightly hurt and felt like you had built an impenetrable wall around you. You would meet him at the door every now and then but wouldn’t really invite him in into the fortress of your mind.

But yet again, he did exactly the same. Perhaps if he opened up about his concerns, you would too.

As he was about to say something, you dropped your backpack on the fallen tree trunk and stood up.

“Silly me, I think I left it in the car,” you groaned, exasperated, as you made your way back to the Jeep.

Joel watched the backpack rock back and forth on the trunk before it fell forwards. He was able to catch it before it hit the frozen ground, but the contents of the front pocket spilled on the floor. He mindlessly picked each piece up and put it back in the pocket ― but the last thing caught his attention.

A white stick with a blue cap that was vaguely familiar. For a second, he thought it was a weird-looking pen until he flipped it around and was greeted with a digital screen that read, “Pregnant.”

It was just one simple word, but he could not make sense of it. That was until the pieces of the puzzle started to fit together, painting a clearer picture in front of him. His heart suddenly dropped to his stomach at the realisation of what was on the palm of his hand.

His jaw went slack as the news started to sink in. Pregnant? A baby? In this world? With all those threats out there? This was no life to bring up a baby. Always on the run, never settling anywhere ― it would be cruel to doom them to such an existence. He would not be able to protect them, he would fail all over again. That would kill him ― Joel was convinced he could not take another loss like that, cradling another dead child of his.

His memory shot back to Sarah, to the night that changed everything for the worse. He could still feel the warmth leaving her body, her teary eyes looking up at the night sky. The pain that shredded his whole being, leaving him an empty carcass to wander this Earth. His whole world had shattered to pieces ― pieces he was barely able to put together now.

What in another lifetime would have been a blessing, in this one it was most definitely a curse. A death sentence for the child, regardless of how hard both of you tried. Joel knew ― he knew very well. There were forces he could not control, and death was one of them. The moment his tainted soul touched an innocent one, he would corrupt them. The same way he corrupted yours.

The reality was, he was scared to death. There were not many things in this universe that would faze him anymore ― but this was one of them.

Was this what was worrying you? It had to be. Why had you not said one word to him about it? For three fucking days? Yes, he was scared, but he was madder.

“Joel, do you have the lighter? I can’t find―” You began to ask before turning around and closing the passenger’s door behind you.

Your eyes widened as if you had seen a ghost and froze in place. You seemed shocked enough, but what was your plan? Not tell him until you were literally showing? Not tell him at all?

“Why―”

“Care to explain this?” He barked between gritted teeth, his temper flaring, as he stood up.

He threw you the test and you just about managed to catch it. He watched your gaze drift down to the device, almost as if it was the first time you saw it.

For a minute you didn’t say anything ― nothing at all. His anger, but also his disappointment, grew. What did this say about you? About him? About your relationship?

“You’ve gone through my things?” You hushed, such a low murmur he hardly heard you.

Joel scoffed, not believing his hearing. Maybe he was deafer than he thought? Was that all that worried you? All that you had to say right now?

Your accusatory tone stung badly; a sharp dart directed to his pounding heart. You had really good aim.

“‘Course not! Your backpack fell―” Why was he explaining himself when it was obvious you had not showed him the same deference about way more important matters? “Doesn’t matter. When did you plan to tell me? Or were you gonna keep me in the dark?”

You just stared at him with doe eyes, your fingers wrapped around the test as if it was your lifeline. Why weren’t you talking? Why did you look at him as if he had booted you?

The knot in his throat got bigger, almost collapsing his airway. Fight me back.

“You said it was nothing important, dammit,” his voice broke on the last word.

Finally, you blinked and shyly took a few steps towards him. Joel’s eyes followed your every movement but didn’t meet you halfway as he should have, so you stopped in your tracks. The utter fear had him paralysed ― fear of losing you, of taking care of a baby on this decrepit world, of making another unfathomable mistake.

“And you said no matter what,” you whispered back, your heart seeking his but not finding it ― it was well tucked away, out of reach for the time being.

That was a low blow, one that would have made him fold if it wasn’t for his stubbornness.

“Are you keeping it?” He found himself asking, jaw clenched.

“It?” Again, another stab right to the centre of his chest. He didn’t mean it that way, but your rhetoric question made it sound awful now. “I wanted to speak to you first…”

“Ah, were you? So, I have a say in this?” He was genuinely surprised, his brows furrowing.

“Of course you do, Joel.” You muttered, dipping your hands in the pockets of your padded coat, a defeated look on your face. “This baby… is mine and yours. Ours. If you truly don’t want them, then…” You shrugged, a loud, heavy sigh leaving your mouth in the shape of a misty cloud. “Can’t force you, won’t force you.”

“Doesn’t look like we have much of a choice,” he snapped back, rubbing his face with one hand.

There were no hospitals, no doctors, no nothing. The reality was you both were stuck with the consequences of your actions.

“You do. I don’t,” Your voice cracked, your eyes watery and your head sinking between your shoulders as you took a step away from him. “It’s not my fault, you know?”

He suddenly felt like a fucking jerk. It was obvious his reaction was not what you were expecting of him. Damn, it wasn’t what he expected of himself. He had let his fear speak for him, instead of reassuring you everything was going to be okay.

Joel should have told you he would be by your side at every turn of this life and the next. Instead, it looked like he was blaming you for what had happened. But that was not his intention, not at all.

He then realised he was making it all be about himself, instead of about you and the baby. What an egocentric ass he was. He had been so worried about himself, about his fears, Joel hadn’t thought of how you were feeling. You, who was the most affected by it all ― not him.

Before he could change his narrative, before he could apologise and ask to start this conversation all over again, you turned on your heels and walked towards the car.

The slam of the passenger’s door had a definite fatality to it ― the kind that would make his stomach churn.

What the fuck had he just done?

@yesjazzywazzylove-blog @pedrospurplerain @missladym1981

@fancyyoouu @smolbeanzzz @guelyury @bishtrouille

@harriedandharassed @thepalaceofmelanie @eternallyvenus

[theamityelf]

Makoto enters the Neo World Program to help with the shutdown sequence, but to his surprise, he doesn't find himself in the trial room.

He finds himself on the beach, in the simulation's normal map. The original map, before Junko's twisted Funhouse and her Titty Typhoon and all her other contributions. He was even dressed for the beach, in a tank top and swim trunks.

(Back in the trial room, Junko stops in the middle of some great exposition and exclaims, "OMG, finally! Later, chumps! Sit and spin, or whatever," and she disappears, leaving them confused.)

Makoto feels that she's there. He doesn't have to turn around, but he does, only to get glomped in an unnecessarily tight hug.

"You made it," Junko('s AI) coos. "It felt like I was waiting forever. Did you let me play with those chumps because you were scared to see me?"

He sighs. He kind of knew that he wouldn't have much control over what happened once he was in the simulation, but the fact that he hasn't joined the surviving Remnants as intended is a bad sign. "Get off."

"Oooh, so forward!"

"Get off me, Junko."

She takes a few steps back, eyeing him up like she's taking inventory of his limbs.

"What happened to the trial? What's happening to them, while I'm here?"

"Who knows? Who cares? You didn't actually think this was about them, did you?"

"It is for me."

"Not even that. Come on, those nutty senpais of ours were always just dolls. They're proxies. How about you put on your big boy pants, instead of wetting them, and talk to me directly."

"They're not dolls, and you're not her. She's dead."

"But I'm like her. Aren't I?" She traipses up to him again, trailing her nails lightly over his skin. "Aren't I enough like her?"

She looks completely real. The details of her skin, her eyes, are exactly the same. Her hair is frizzing from the spray of the sea. She's wearing a bathing suit, too. The top piece laces at the shoulders; it's tied into a bow on one side, but on the other it's just a knot. Imperfection. Realism. The placement of the sun directs his gaze to her, and her shadow snakes across the sand.

The sand feels real.

"This is cheating. You didn't win the trial. You haven't earned this. If you don't play fairly, you're admitting that they can beat you if you give-"

"Yawn! You're taking a leaf out of Kyoko's book. We already did this 'I owe you a trial' thing. Take a load off. We're one-one right now. You beat me once, I beat you once. Let's take a walk."

Makoto almost argues, but then he remembers the ancient ruins on the second island and considers that he might be able to get out through there. "Fine. Let's take a walk."

"Yay!" Junko bounces up and down, and he quickly looks away. "I just love this map. As soon as Kamukura plugged me in, I could just smell your nasty little hope-hands all over this thing. Did you notice, I kept all of your ideas in my version of the map, in some form or another."

Makoto starts walking toward the bridge. He did notice that the places that were removed or walled off wholesale were ones that were thought up by other people. He assumed it was a coincidence. After all, how would Junko know which ideas were his? "I'm glad they got to ride the rollercoaster. It looked like they had fun."

"Like we did."

He remembers that class trip. "Yeah. We did."

"Tampering with your map was more fun than this whole killing game. It was like we were making a baby together."

"N-No it wasn't."

"You planted the seed, and I-"

"Nope. I'm walking faster now." He power walks across the bridge.

"Oh no," Junko deadpans, remaining a step behind him. "Your legs. So long."

[differentpostrebel]

Lost and Found: A Pirate’s Promise

Chapter 10: Navigating the Unknown: Destination Punk Hazard 

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 (Here)

AN: Chapter 10 is finally here! Im not gonna lie Im inspired to continue to write more so Chapter 11 might get dropped early today! This is a relatively short chapter. But its needed for the plot. Like always the chapters are all linked! And without further ado, heres chapter 10. 

Y/N is an established pirate and a formidable warrior, with the third highest bounty in the Straw Hat crew. She's not just another member; her strength and skills have earned her a respected spot among the crew.

Sanji, our favorite lovesick cook, falls head over heels for Y/N almost immediately. True to his nature, he tries every trick in the book to catch her attention, from cooking her favorite meals to showering her with compliments. On the other hand, Y/N may have a small crush on Sanji, but she’s cautious and focused on her goals as a pirate.

As the story progresses, that small crush gradually blossoms into something more profound, but their journey together won't be easy. With the chaos of the New World looming, the dangers they face will test their bond and loyalty to each other. Will their love be strong enough to survive the trials ahead, or will the perils of their pirate life tear them apart?

Get ready for an emotional rollercoaster filled with angst, action, and a dash of romance. I'm thrilled to take you on this adventure with Y/N, Sanji, and the rest of the Straw Hat crew!

Word Count: 2.8K

Sanji x Y/N, OP X Reader, Sanji x Reader

Chapter 10: Navigating the Unknown: Destination Punk Hazard 

Our journey to Fishman Island was both rewarding and crucial, as we uncovered key information that will shape our adventure ahead. The island faced a major upheaval as an anti-human faction of fishmen, led by Hordy Jones, ignited a rebellion to stop cooperation between merfolk and humans. Fortunately, Luffy managed to defeat Hordy, and we took down the New Fishman Pirates, restoring peace to the island.

Robin discovered a crucial Poneglyph that revealed the tale of Joy Boy and his ancient promise to the royal family of Fishman Island. It also spoke of Poseidon, an ancient weapon, which turned out to be none other than Princess Shirahoshi herself, possessing the incredible power to command the Sea Kings.

After the dust settled, Luffy offered Jimbei a spot in our crew, but Jimbei declined, explaining his need to first sever ties with the Big Mom. Meanwhile, the rebellion had caused significant damage, including the destruction of the candy factory, which left Fishman Island unable to fulfill its monthly candy quota to Big Mom. In response, Luffy stepped in to protect the island from her wrath. When Big Mom herself made contact, Luffy boldly declared, "I'm ready to kick your ass!" and hung up the transponder snail with confidence. I placed a hand on his shoulder and told him, "This is going to be a good fight, Captain."

After freeing Fishman Island from Hordy’s grip, Neptune and the royal family threw us a grand celebratory banquet. But, I know what some of you are wondering—what about me and Sanji? Well, the truth is, Sanji didn't exactly live up to his promise. Not only did he flirt with almost every mermaid in sight, but he also went as far as turning to stone for the Princess herself!

Sanji was pulling his usual stunts on all the women, completely forgetting the promise he made to me. I had to pull him aside and tell him, "Sanji, it's clear you can't control yourself. Maybe it's better if we just stay friends instead of being in a relationship."

Sanji, of course, wasn't thrilled with that idea. He looked at me, his eyes wide with shock. "But Y/N, I— I can change! Please, just give me another chance."

I sighed, trying to keep my voice calm. "Sanji, it's not about changing who you are. But if you can prove to me that you can control yourself, that you can keep your promises... then maybe, just maybe, I'll give you another chance."

Sanji's eyes lit up with a glimmer of hope. "You mean it, Y/N? I'll do whatever it takes, I swear."

I nodded, though there was a part of me that remained cautious. "Actions speak louder than words, Sanji. Show me that you can keep your word, and we'll see where things go."

Sanji opened his mouth to say something else but I could tell this decision weighed heavily on him.

Now, as we set sail for Punk Hazard, I find myself sitting with Zoro, sharing some sake and venting about what happened with Sanji.

"I just don’t get it, Zoro," I say, taking a swig from my cup. "He promised, you know? But then he went right back to his old ways like it didn’t mean anything."

Zoro smirks, his eyes sharp as he refills our cups. "That's just how the cook is. Can't keep his nose out of trouble, especially when it comes to women. But if you ask me, you’re better off not getting tangled up in all that."

I nod, appreciating his straightforwardness. "Yeah, maybe you're right. Just feels like a mess, you know?"

Zoro takes a long sip, his gaze shifting to the horizon. "Stick to what matters—fighting and getting stronger. Everything else is just noise. Besides, you deserve someone who won’t make you feel like an idiot, Y/N."

His words hit me harder than I expected, leaving me momentarily speechless. I looked at him, but he just stared ahead, as if what he said was the most obvious thing in the world.

I let his words settle in, the truth of them resonating deeply. Maybe he was right. Maybe I did deserve better—someone who wouldn't make me second-guess myself, someone who wouldn't break promises. I stayed quiet, just letting what Zoro said stay with me as we sailed onward toward whatever challenges awaited us at Punk Hazard.

Just then, I overhear Nami on the other end of the ship, her voice tinged with concern as she talks to Franky. “There’s something seriously wrong about this place. The fish are dead!” she says, her tone rising with alarm. “They’re all bone!”

Brook, ever the optimist, chimes in with his usual humor. “And what’s wrong with that, hmmm?” He laughs, his skeletal form perfectly matching the description. The absurdity of the situation makes me chuckle, and I was about to take another sip of the sake when a distressing sound interrupts us—a cry of someone in distress.

“You guys, check this out!” Luffy’s voice echoes through the hall, filled with curiosity. “Looks like the transponder snail picked up a signal,” says Sanji, who had just walked in. He notices me entering with Zoro beside me and quickly looks away, his earlier bravado deflated.

“What’s wrong, buddy?” Luffy asks the transponder snail, already itching to take action. “Should I pick it up and see if they need help?”

“Wait, Luffy,” Robin interjects, her voice calm but firm. “This is often a trick used by the Navy to lure pirates. Once you pick up, they can pinpoint your signal and launch a surprise attack.”

But, in true Luffy fashion, he doesn’t hesitate. Before anyone can stop him, he picks up the call, leaving all of us stunned. “My name is Monkey D. Luffy, and I’m going to be King of the Pirates!” he declares with unwavering determination.

Usopp and Nami immediately smack him on the head, yelling in unison, “Don’t tell them all that!”

The voice on the other end of the transponder snail is weak and filled with desperation. “Someone help! Please, it’s cold! We need Boss! My friends are getting cut down! One after another! The Samurai is going to kill us!”

“Where are you?” Luffy demands, his concern evident as he grips the snail tighter.

“Please, hurry! We’re on the island… Punk Hazard,” the voice continues, before it ends in a chilling scream, followed by the sickening sound of gurgling blood.

The room falls silent as we all process what we just heard. I exchange a glance with Zoro, my heart racing.

Luffy, now hanging up the call, says with a grin, "Hmm, sounds like trouble is brewing out there."

Usopp’s face pales as he waves his hands frantically. "What do you mean, trouble?! He’s dead! That scream... it wasn't acting!"

Robin crosses her arms, her expression calm yet cautious. "Maybe he was acting, and this could be a trap. The Navy isn’t above using desperate measures to catch pirates."

"Whatever it is, it doesn't seem good," I add, glancing at the group. The uneasy atmosphere is palpable as we all look towards the flames rising from the distant island, the seawater connected to an icy landscape. The contrast is eerie, foreboding.

"The guy mentioned Punk Hazard," Franky speaks up, his mechanical eye zooming in on the island. "You think this is the place?"

Robin nods, her gaze fixed on the distant shore. "Most definitely. Those transponder snails have limited range, so it’s likely we’re close."

“Let’s fight through the fire and help him!” Luffy cheers, already fired up for the challenge ahead.

I glance around, seeing the worry etched on everyone’s faces. The unknown is always the scariest part, but Luffy’s infectious energy makes it hard not to feel a bit braver. Despite the fear in the air, Luffy just laughs, confident as ever, as we approach the ominous island of Punk Hazard.

But as we near the island, none of us could have known that another enemy was also making their way to Punk Hazard

Marine G-5: 

“My name is Monkey D. Luffy, and I’m going to be King of the Pirates!” “Dont tell him that!” “Were on the island.. Punk Hazard!! We dont have much time left!” 

Tashigi’s eyes widened as she recognized the voice. “That’s Luffy!” she exclaimed, her hand tightening on the hilt of her sword.

“Punk Hazard, huh?” Vice-Admiral Smoker muttered, looking down at his log pose. His face was serious, but there was a flicker of something close to satisfaction in his eyes. “Damn, not the most ideal place, but at least we know where the Straw Hats ended up.”

He paused, thinking back to the recent events. “Makes sense, considering the battle at Fishman Island. But the real question is: did they answer that call for help, or did they move on?”

Tashigi looked up at him, awaiting orders. Smoker’s expression hardened as he made his decision. “Tashigi, set course for Punk Hazard.” 

Smoker turned to his men, his voice booming with authority. “Alright, men! Get ready—we’re heading to Punk Hazard!

Back to the Thousand Sunny: 

Sanji lit a cigarette, exhaling slowly as he addressed the group. "So… how many of us are going to the island? We don’t know what we’re dealing with, so some of us should stay and guard the ship."

Luffy, always eager for adventure, turned to Franky. "Franky, I need the Mini Merry!"

Franky gave a thumbs up, grinning. "Gotcha, Luffy!"

Nami, however, wasn’t having it. "Are you crazy?! You aren’t going alone!"

“I agree with Nami,” you chimed in, giving Luffy a concerned look. “You can’t go by yourself, Luffy.”

Luffy, unbothered, looked around and caught your eye. “You want to come, Y/N? That’s fine with me.”

Before you could answer, Sanji cut in, his tone sharper than usual. "No!" Everyone turned to look at him, surprised by his outburst. He quickly cleared his throat, trying to play it off. "I mean, if we let Captain Belly Warmer over here"—he pointed at Zoro—"go with Luffy, they’d be lost for days."

Zoro shot Sanji a glare. "What did you say, Curly-brow? At least I’m not some lovesick cook who can’t focus when there’s a pretty face around!"

Sanji’s eyebrow twitched in irritation. "Oh yeah? Say that again, Mosshead, and I’ll kick you all the way to the island myself!"

The two of them started bickering, getting right in each other’s faces, neither one willing to back down. It was the usual heated exchange, with insults flying back and forth as if it was a sport.

Nami, rolling her eyes, decided to put an end to the chaos. "I knew it would come to this. Everybody, draw straws!"

With that, she pulled out a bundle of straws, each with a single red line on one of them. Everyone gathered around, drawing their straws one by one. You pulled yours out and looked at it—no red line.

"Man, I really wanted to go too," you pouted, disappointed.

Zoro smirked, leaning back with his arms crossed. "You’re going to miss out on the fun!"

Robin, standing nearby, gave a small, mysterious smile. "This should be fun indeed," she said, her eyes glinting with curiosity and amusement.

Usopp, on the other hand, looked like he was already regretting his luck, holding the straw with the red line. "Why is it always me?!" he groaned, clearly not as excited about the upcoming adventure as the others.

Luffy, completely unfazed by the tension and excitement, just laughed. "Alright, let’s go! Adventure awaits!"

As the Mini Merry was prepared, the crew made their final checks, each one gearing up for whatever awaited them on Punk Hazard. You waved them goodbye, a mix of excitement and concern in your expression. "Good luck out there! And try not to die!"

Nami nodded in agreement, her usual worry showing through. "Yeah, don’t do anything reckless!"

Chopper chimed in, waving both of his tiny hooves. "Be careful! And make sure to come back in one piece!"

Franky, with his usual enthusiasm, gave them a hearty thumbs-up. "You guys got this! Just remember, the Mini Merry is SUPER, so take care of her!"

Brook, ever the optimist, added with a laugh, "Come back alive, everyone! Yohohoho!"

And Sanji, standing beside you, looked back at the departing Mini Merry with a soft smile. "Goodbye, everyone. Stay safe out there!

As the Mini Merry began to disappear into the flames, you could feel the heat intensifying, and your cropped shirt was starting to cling uncomfortably to your skin. Turning to Nami, you asked, "Do you have anything cooler to wear? It’s getting pretty hot out here."

Nami glanced at you with a knowing smirk. "Yes, I do. Come with me!"

Sanji, who had been nearby, looked over with an enthusiastic grin. "Sanji, can you get us something cool to drink?" you requested.

Sanji swooned dramatically. "Of course, ladies! I’ll whip up something refreshing!" He headed toward the kitchen with his usual flair.

Nami led you to her room, where she handed you a light blue mini corset that left little to the imagination. You hesitated for a moment but then put it on, feeling the coolness of the fabric against your skin. You decided to stick with your skirt and ankle boots, opting to create a tight ponytail to keep your hair from sticking to your sweaty neck.

When you and Nami reappeared in the common area, Sanji emerged from the kitchen with a tray of drinks. His eyes widened as he saw you in the new attire, and he stopped mid-sentence. "Ladies, I bring you a nice cool, delicious—" He trailed off, clearly taken aback by your appearance.

Nami chuckled softly beside you. "Looks like Sanji’s lost his words."

Sanji quickly regained his composure, though his cheeks were slightly flushed. "Uh, right, right. Here are the drinks! They should help you cool off."

You took the offered drink, trying to ignore the heat on your cheeks from both the weather and the attention. "Thanks, Sanji. This is just what we needed."

As you and Nami shared a drink with Chopper, the conversation shifted to the unusual clouds in the sky.

"You guys see that?" Nami asked, her gaze fixed upwards.

Chopper squinted. "I don’t see anything."

"Yeah, what about the clouds?" you chimed in, your curiosity piqued. "Something seems off."

Just then, a strange, chemical smell hit you, causing you to wrinkle your nose. "You guys smell that?" you asked, struggling to stay conscious.

"Yeah, it's making me a bit sleepy," Chopper admitted, his voice growing drowsy.

Before you could react further, your vision started to blur, and you felt an overwhelming wave of fatigue. You crumpled to the ground, unable to keep your eyes open. Sanji tried to reach you, but soon he, along with Brook, Franky, Nami, and Chopper, were all succumbing to the same mysterious force.

As darkness closed in, you caught a glimpse of men in suits with hazmat gloves and masks approaching. One of them crouched down beside you and spoke softly, "Master, we found the intruders. We are taking them to the base now."

With those final words echoing in your ears, you felt the last vestiges of consciousness slip away, and the world faded into darkness.

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We have now entered Punk Hazard!!! Sanji and Y/N decided to not pursue anything after Fishman island. But don't you guys worry our favorite lovesick cook will redeem himself! I have faith! Gotta trust the process! But the upcoming chapters will be cooking! Once we hit Whole Cake Island along with Wano!! Ohh the plans that I have! But for now Sanji has to prove himself! And Zoro coming in with advice like that (Hmmm wonder why?! heheheh) I'm actually going to start on chapter 11 tonight because I'm on a roll with these chapters. Who knows there might be a surprise drop tonight also… Thank you guys for following along! Along with sharing, liking and interacting! I hope you guys are enjoying it as much as I love writing it!. The next chapter tho (we have a few surprise guests) ;) again all is fair in love and war…

[naughtystiel]

DEANCAS AU FIC REC MASTERPOST II

Here's another list of fics that I've read! They're all amazing, but the first two? They hold a special place in my heart because of how tender they are. If you decide to read them - prepare for an emotional rollercoaster.

You can check out the previous fic rec list here.

Happy reading! ♡

Restless wanderer

Just west of the town Porthgwarra, Cornwall, Robert Singer’s farm lies, a mess of ravaged land gaping out onto a fretting sea. Robert's orphaned godson, Dean Winchester, is named sole beneficiary of the farm - and though he hasn't seen his godfather in fifteen years, he travels across the Atlantic with his brother and half brother to care for Singer in his old age and tend to the farm. All of them hope to leave behind the squalor and famine of their old life.

What Dean meets is the bird-infested home of a widowed eccentric, and a new shepherd whom he can neither stand nor see any use for - stoic, rude and conceited, Dean plans to fire the mysterious and wandering Mr Novak the moment he comes into legal possession of the farm. But upon the shepherd's offer to teach him the trade, in anticipation of Dean replacing the man himself, Dean finds in the wild and roaming man a steadiness and certainty his own life has never yet contained. And one day Dean will have to ask, not tell, the shepherd to stay.

Down by the water

AU, set in 1853 — When Castiel loses everything dear to him due to a botched river crossing, including his supplies, livestock, covered wagon, and even his wife, he has no where to turn, no way to survive stranded in the middle of his journey. That is, until he meets Dean Winchester, who offers him a life saving deal: in exchange for help on his farm, Dean offers to provide much needed room and board. But how will this decision affect Castiel as he moves through his grief, and discovers feelings he never would have expected? Fighting with injury, pain, grief, and even the threat of death, Dean and Castiel find themselves in the one place they would have never expected: down by the water, struggling to accept their unforeseen love.

Dark side of the moon

Five months into his six month mission, an accident leaves Flight Engineer Dean Winchester stranded on the moon. It comes down to a man he has never met to bring him home.

Angel in the iron mask

Finally free of his actual shackles, Castiel finds himself in a situation a lot worse than being locked in the dungeon with an iron mask to conceal his face. The intrigues of the court will make his head ache, but it would all be worth it if he could just find a way to save the omega that had been enslaved to him.

Protect and serve

Sam Winchester is America's newest sweetheart. An in-demand actor and all around Boy Next Door. However, with his fame comes the need for protection. And Sam only trusts his older brother, and former beat cop, Dean, plus his best friend, Castiel Novak, to keep him safe. However, Castiel and Dean share not only a desire to keep Sam safe, but also a lot of friction between them. In an attempt to smooth the edges, Sam pleads with them to find a way to make things work. Castiel thinks Dean needs discipline. Dean thinks Castiel needs to lighten up. Together, they discover a lot more about each other than anticipated.

Playing with fire

When two best friends foray into a supposedly no-strings sexual relationship, someone is bound to catch feelings, someone is bound to fuck up, and someone is bound to beg for forgiveness; because that’s the recipe for a romantic comedy.

But life is not a romantic comedy, no matter how much Dean Winchester secretly wishes it was.

Instead, we present: Boy finds out boy, who has been his best friend for over twenty years, is secretly a Dom. Boy then sorta tricks boy into taking him on as his new sub. Boy discovers a side of himself he never knew existed. Boy is in way over his head.

Quarantension

In which Dean and Cas weather quarantine together like any Good Friends would — by developing outstanding skills in self-deception and providing all the casual affection and strictly platonic* orgasms the other could possibly need to make it through.**

 

*Really not platonic

**Spoiler: They need a lot.

Expectations

For centuries, the Winchester princes have taken omegas from the northern town of New Eden to bear the royal heirs before exiling them to the countryside - a punishment for a past dispute caused by the town's strict beliefs. When Prince John marries Lady Mary of Campbell and puts a Queen on the throne, however, most people assume the tradition has been set aside.

Thus, it's a complete surprise to Dean when he's sent to New Eden to retrieve the girl they've arranged for.

Cas, as a male omega in backward New Eden, has been ostracized and condemned by his town since he presented. To make matters worse? His sister is being given away to the crown prince of Winchester, never to return.

But when the morning before the prince's arrival dawns and Anna is nowhere to be found, the town's council decides there’s only one thing for it:

They’ll simply have to give him Cas instead.

It's the end of the world (as we know it)

The year is 1996, and Dean’s stuck in Kankakee, Illinois while Dad’s on a long-haul hunt. It’s not too bad. He’s even got a friend, now—even if Cas is a weird, gawky loner kid who gets way too intense about his sci-fi novels and doesn’t know how to stop staring. Just business as usual.

Until his dad comes back, and it isn’t.

The year is 2011, and the shadows known as ‘angels’ and ‘demons’ are falling from cracks in the sky, raining death, destruction, and monsters where they pass. When the Joint Task Force asks for their help in stopping the end of the world—John Winchester, his sons, and a ragtag band of hunters—well, that’s just business as usual, too.

Until Dean meets the cold blue eyes of their team liaison—Dr. Castiel Novak.

The meaning on my skin

Castiel Novak never wanted to be a Dominant. Living with the mark on his skin that designates him as one has haunted him every day of his life, and he goes to great lengths to avoid the part of his biology that he hates. When he makes the decision to get a tattoo with the intent of hiding his mark away, he meets Dean Winchester: tattoo artist and confident submissive.

Dean turns Castiel’s world upside down and subverts every expectation Castiel ever had about himself and his designation. Will Dean be able to teach him how to be comfortable in his own skin?

Roll with it

For two years, Dean’s been slaving away beneath his boss – many label him a secretary, but he fucking hates that and feels like it only applies to someone wearing a pencil skirt, so he insists on his title of Executive Assistant. And for what? In the vain hope that one day he’ll manage to become an editor for Sandover Publishing, and that he’ll see the manuscript that he’s slaved over since college finally realized in print.

That’s the dream, anyway.

Right now, he’s fucking late.

Dean wants to be an editor. Castiel just wants to stay in the country.

‘The Proposal’ – as you’ve never seen it before.

Stay in my arms (if you dare)

Grammy award-winning singer/actor Dean Winchester is on top of the world. His latest role has him tipped for an Oscar nomination and his life is damn good, thank you very much. That all comes crashing down after a series of death threats forces his manager, Bobby Singer, to hire a bodyguard. Bobby knows just the man for the job. Castiel Krushnic, former CIA field agent and the only person Bobby would trust to protect Dean.

Tensions are high and personalities clash from the first meeting, with Dean unwilling to change his lifestyle and Cas just wanting to do the job in peace. A series of events turns the pair into reluctant friends while both try to ignore their growing attraction for each other.

Dream house

Castiel Shurley and his best friend Dorothy Baum have decided to move in together. After his aunt assumes they are dating, she offers them money for the house, but only if they apply for a famous reality show ‘Dream House’. Since they could use the money and he doesn’t want to come out to his aunt, Castiel and Dorothy agree to fake date for the show. But things go wrong when Dorothy falls in love with the show’s producer and Castiel starts to develop feelings for one of the hosts.

Dean Winchester is a co-host of ‘Dream House’, along with his brother. Sam, being a realtor, finds a fixer-upper and Dean turns it into a perfect house for their clients. Even though he has what most people only dream about, Dean is incredibly lonely. He had bad experiences with relationships in the past and he doesn’t think he will ever meet anyone who can earn his trust. Until he meets Castiel.

I'll be good

Dean has always been the good guy. He made the hard decisions and rose to the occasion whenever his family needed him. He became a parent way too soon after the deaths of John and Mary Winchester along with Sam’s big oops moment. Resettling his entire life to Beaufort, NC for the sake of those he loves the most.

Now at 25 an opportunity to finally be good to himself has been delivered in the form of one gorgeous Castiel Novak. The new arrival to town is the worst driver Dean has ever seen. As the eldest Winchester strives to overcome several bumps along the road of life can he also help Cas to steer towards a happily ever after with him or will Novak’s turbulent past cause them to crash and burn?

In other words a BDSM love story.

Shatter me

Dean Winchester started his day in seven easy steps.

Step one: Survive attack from a giant drool monster

Step two: Shower and shave

Step three: Suck down a cup of coffee while walking the drool monster to her favorite tree

Step four: Feed and water the drool monster

Step five: Have a balanced breakfast of microwaved egos, six medications, and two more cups of coffee

Step six: Check his email and schedule for the day

Step seven: Pack the pup and himself a hearty lunch and leave for work

In none of these steps did it say: meet your soul mate, hate them on sight and cause bodily harm…. and yet.

Crashing in

Castiel Novak is convinced he’s the last unwillingly single person in Lupine Cove. Even Gabriel, his perpetual bachelor brother, has found love. It’s probably because Cas leads the most boring life in existence. He’s a gay man living in a rented, one-room cottage in the same small coastal town he grew up in, just getting by as the owner of the same convenience store he was practically raised in. The most excitement he gets is chatting with the locals or maybe, if he’s unlucky, oversleeping and rushing to work. So when a baby is left at the Safe Haven drop-off at the local fire station, he takes the opportunity to step in for the child temporarily, at least until suitable parents, plural, can be found.

Life certainly gets more interesting.

And it gets even more interesting when a handsome man comes crashing—literally—into his life.

Partnered

Dean didn't think that his life as a detective could get much worse after Castiel was promoted to lieutenant.

Castiel was a stickler for the rules, had no sense of humour, and never seemed to give Dean a break, even though they used to be partners.

But then, despite all of their questionable history, the two are asked to go undercover on a case in the wealthy suburbs of California. . . as a married couple.

Lead by your beating heart

After a night of celebrating (heavy drinking) with his brother surgical intern Dean Winchester discovers that his resident, talented Cardio surgeon Castiel Novak, is...well a huge douche bag...kind of hot but still a huge douche bag. A douche bag that he's stuck with for the rest of the year, that's if he survives the year without Castiel killing him and making it look like an accident. So why is it that an easy friendship forms between the two men that swiftly becomes something Dean never expected to find when he moved to Chicago.

Bold will hold

All Dean Winchester wants is to open his own tattoo shop, which is why he signs up for Tattoo Gods, a tattooing reality show with a $100,000 grand prize. He also wants to avoid making an ass of himself on national TV, and he definitely wants to avoid falling for Cas Novak, another artist who’s not only his direct competitor, but someone he’s had an unspoken rivalry with since before he started apprenticing, and is just as ridiculously talented as he is stunning (and, as Dean comes to find out, kind and funny and passionate and sincere). Is that too much to ask?

Apparently, yes. Yes, it is.

Breathing into you

‘Beware the deep sea, that’s where the monsters come from.’ Dean had heard these words since birth, his father’s warnings shaping him into the man he is today.

That’s not the root of Dean’s hatred for merpeople, though. Twenty years after the day tragedy had touched the Winchesters’ lives forever as well as the end of the Great War between humans and mer, Dean is still haunted by that moment. But loving the sea is just as much a part of him as the dread for the merfolk, so when he isn’t working at the local bar, he is there, underwater, immersed in the vast blue his mother used to speak of in her bedtime stories.

Dean knows, however, that the sea can be as ruthless as it is soothing. When he is caught in the middle of a storm and faces the anger of the waves, the mysterious appearance of a stranger with blue eyes as clear as the waters Dean loves losing himself in forces Dean to question the truth behind his father’s old mantra.

Hot water

Castiel hated public showers.

In which Castiel is forced to use the company shower after hours and ends up doing unspeakable things he never thought himself capable of...

AU-fic containing mystery attractions and a lot of hot water.

I can make you scared

So this is how it goes. Best day of Dean Winchester’s life. Loses his job, finds out he’s been cheated on, gets dumped, all in the course of one fucked up Thursday. Drinking himself into oblivion is the natural response, right? A chance encounter in a dingy dive bar gives Dean a new friend who sees his problems and likes him anyway. Now, as Dean struggles to pick up the pieces of his life, Castiel just might help him put them back together in a way he never expected.

Fear of falling (apart)

In a world where D/s relationships are the norm and Chicago is caught up in a three-way mob war, Russian mob boss Castiel Krushnic makes John Winchester an offer he can't refuse: one that will make Dean Winchester his own.

Cuffed to an angel

Dean Winchester has a lot going for him: he's beloved by his students, he's finished writing his first book, and he's living comfortably in New York City. The only problem is... he's single. That wouldn't bother him much if his family wouldn't be visiting for the holidays. With cuffing season over, Dean has to face his family alone... or will he?

Castiel DiAngelo is a simple detective who hasn't really celebrated Christmas in over 9 years, holidays and family being a sore spot for him. But after taking Dean up on an offer, he finds that you can't really avoid the holidays.

Will these two be able to pull off a seminal holiday trope? Or will certain developments get in the way...

(don't) stop texting me

Castiel Novak is relatively happy living his solitary life as a Starbucks Barista. He lives alone with a cat named Hamburger, and he has one (1) emotional support friend, Gabriel.

Unfortunately, he is plagued by the fact that some guy (see: a random hot dude named 'Dean') is giving out Castiel's phone number as his own. And he's been doing it for months.

So, of course, when Castiel's at work and a hot stranger gives him his own phone number for the Starbucks Rewards Program... well... it doesn't go well.

Sweet boy

NOTE - nothing sexual happens between them until Dean's 18

Dean's sixteen when he meets John's well-to-do boss, Castiel Novak, and he's quick to develop a crush during a time where he's only begun to discover his preferences. He dates the beautiful Lisa and practically raises his younger brother Sam, because it's what John expects. But Castiel appears to see Dean in a way no one else does, and despite him knowing there's no way anything can happen between them, he relishes in the idea that Castiel cares at all for his well-being.

Between mounting pressures from a teenage Sam that no longer wants a caretaker, John's nudging for Dean to follow a career path he doesn't want, and a mysterious check for the exact amount of one semester at the school Dean had been eyeing, Dean finds himself reconnecting with Castiel.

And Castiel has a very interesting proposition for him.

Down time

It’s been said that Dean Winchester is a bit uptight but in his opinion being focused on producing quality work is nothing to be ashamed of. He would grudgingly admit he tends to get too worried about his work and schedule and that it’s beginning to wear him down. In a fit of work induced exhaustion, he decides to indulge in a deeply buried desire of his…

[russellius]

While British success stories in Formula 1 tend to centre around Lewis Hamilton – as well they should, he’s a legend – George Russell has quietly been making a serious name for himself. At a fresh-faced 26 years old, he’s one of the younger racers on the grid and, when we caught up with him ahead of the Hungarian Grand Prix back in the summer, was still revelling in the best season of his career. So, how was he finding the season so far?

“It’s been… I wouldn’t say a rollercoaster, but it’s been one that we’ve been climbing,” says Russell. “At the start we were at the bottom of the mountain and been steadily getting closer to the top. There’s so much excitement and motivation when you’re on a team like this, like we have a visible return on everything we’ve been putting in, that momentum we’ve been building up.”

We were talking shortly after his second F1 victory in Austria, which was a bit of a hairy one. After spending most of the race in third – still a respectable podium finish – Lando Norris and Max Verstappen ahead of him got a little too close to one another, crashing to take them both out the race. It was a far cry from Russell’s incredibly convincing first win. But was there a difference to him?

“Each win is incomparable. Every race is a completely different scenario. My first, in Brazil, was where I was ahead every lap. I’d done fantastically the day before and the pressure was there. Near the end I had Lewis on my tail and it was a relief to get across that finish line. In Austria I was happy to be in third – and then it all kicked off ahead and the opportunity arose. Every race is different and you never really know how it’s going to go, even when you’re behind the wheel.”

With that kind of uncertainty, it has to be hard to prepare yourself for racing at this level. There’s the danger of course, as that crash in Austria – and a multitude of other times – shows. But none of these guys would be racing if that put them off. Instead, we were more interested to find out of the pressure ever got to him – and more importantly, what Russell did to cope with it.

“I’m a little obsessive. I try to make sure I’ve gone through all the preparation possible with my engineers, taken a look at last year’s data, gone over the car, the weather conditions, anything I feel I need to be looking for. Once I’ve ticked them all off, I’m at peace, mentally. I know I’m at my peak physical condition, I know every race is going to be tough. But there are 19 other drivers and hopefully they’ll find it tougher than I will. After that, what will happen, will happen, it’s out of your control.”

With that huge amount of pressure every single week, the intense training regime to stay in that physical condition and the sheer hectic nature of a globe-trotting racing competition, decompression seems like a necessity. Russell though seems to want to take decompressing very literally.

“I love being by the sea, so I’ve started free diving, which is a bit of a random hobby, but when I’m out in the water I’m just so focused on my breathing, on being underwater that I just disconnect from the world. Once beneath the sea, down there with the fish and coral, you’re not thinking about anything else – except having enough breath to get back to the top!”

Russell isn’t the only British racing legend around. We’ve had a long, illustrious line of champions of which Hamilton is only the latest and Russell could potentially be next. For Russell, there’s something in the inspiration of champions of old, and having seven of the ten Formula 1 teams based in the UK helps. But for him, the key to British racing success is British racing green grass roots.

“I remember racing with Lando [Norris] and Alex [Albon], and alongside other racers who didn’t make it to Formula 1 but have made professional racing careers. There’s definitely something about the grass roots level here that works. But it needs to stay at that level. This isn’t the most economical sport in the world, so we need to make sure that we can give kids that don’t have the opportunity otherwise the funding they need to get behind the wheel and try go-karting.”

That said, go-karting is never going to be cheap for most would-be podium contenders, and whether it’s that or sheer space, it’s an opportunity sadly few kids have. E-sports on the other hand, is different.

“Simulators have advanced so much now. The Formula 1 game is fantastic and there should be ways we can identify talent sooner, instead of just having financial backing to push you through the ranks.”

Whether coming from the classic karting angle or from killing it online with photorealistic driving games, kids are going to need to have to contend with one of the most intensely competitive sports in the world – if not the most. According to Russell though, they shouldn’t be afraid of making mistakes; quite the opposite.

“The one piece of advice that I try to embrace myself is: don’t be afraid to fail. The times I’ve failed have been the times I’ve progressed the most, the times I’ve really pushed my limited. It doesn’t matter what you do, failure is necessary. It’s how we grow, how we learn about ourselves. There’s so much pressure not to let people down, especially with younger people, but you don’t want to go through life never making a mistake or knowing where your ceiling is.”

And any advice for those of us not thinking of a career in racing? Even shaving a few seconds off a track day would help for a few more bragging rights.

“No matter what you’re driving, stay relaxed. I’ve driven with people that have never been on a track before. They tense up, hunch over and it makes everything erratic. Smooth is fast, smooth with the steering, throttle and brake. It’s not necessarily how we drive in Formula 1, but if you want to speed up on a track day, stay relaxed.”

Obviously, it’s not lost on Russell just how many kids and F1 fans alike look up to him as a sportsman. He’s young, he’s hungry and his experience is starting to pay off. But for Russell, there are other sportspeople in other sports – and one in his own who I’m sure you can guess – that he looks up to.

“I have a huge amount of respect for [Cristiano] Ronaldo. He’s without a doubt the leader in his field. The same with [Novak] Djokovic, they’re fighters that push their physical performance. Then there’s Lewis [Hamilton], obviously. He puts his platform to great use and I admire him for that as much as his wins and what he’s doing off the track. I hope to be one of those leaders in years to come.”

Now he may well get a chance as Lewis will, in 2025, be moving from Mercedes as Russell’s teammate over to Ferrari. It’s a bold move, but on the other hand it means that Russell will soon be able to race his former teammate as an actual rival. Will that be weird?

“He’ll be wearing a different suit, but I’ll still recognise him! We’re at different stages in our career but we have massive respect for one another. For now, I’ll see him on the track.”

Speaking about wearing things, what watches have been on his wrist?

“I wear a lot of watches, actually. Right now, it’s the Ingenieur! I wore it for the first time at Wimbledon when it was still super fresh. I’ve also got my annual calendar and Top Gun back home. I like my team watch during race weekends to go with my suit, I wore it when I was on the podium in Austria. It fits so well.”

[umgeorge]

The Pressure of the Podium: Interview With George Russell

While British success stories in Formula 1 tend to centre around Lewis Hamilton-as well they should; he's a legend-George Russell has quietly been making a serious name for himself. At a fresh-faced 26 years old, he’s one of the younger racers on the grid and, when we caught up with him ahead of the Hungarian Grand Prix back in the summer, was still revelling in the best season of his career. So, how was he finding the season so far? "Its been... I wouldn't say a rollercoaster, but it's been one that we've been climbing," says Russell. "At the start we were at the bottom of the mountain and been steadily getting closer to the top. There's so much excitement and motivation when you're on a team like this, like we have a visible return on everything we've been putting in, that momentum we've been building up."

We were talking shortly after his second F1 victory in Austria, which was a bit of a hairy one. After spending most of the race in third, still a respectable podium finish, Lando Norris and Max Verstappen ahead of him got a little too close to one another, crashing to take them both out the race. It was a far cry from Russell's incredibly convincing first win. But was there a difference to him? "Each win is incomparable. Every race is a completely different scenario. My first, in Brazil, was where I was ahead every lap. I'd done fantastically the day before and the pressure was there. Near the end I had Lewis on my tail and it was a relief to get across that finish line. In Austria I was happy to be in third, and then it all kicked off ahead and the opportunity arose. Every race is different and you never really know how it's going to go, even when you're behind the wheel." With that kind of uncertainty, it has to be hard to prepare yourself for racing at this level. There's the danger, of course, as that crash in Austria and a multitude of other times shows, but none of these guys would be racing if that put them off. Instead, we were more interested to find out if the pressure ever got to him - and, more importantly, what Russell did to cope with it.

"I'm a little obsessive. I try to make sure I've gone through all the preparation possible with my engineers, taken a look at last year's data, gone over the car, the weather conditions; anything I feel I need to be looking for. Once I've ticked them all off I'm at peace, mentally. I know I'm at my peak physical condition. I know every race is going to be tough. But there are nineteen other drivers and hopefully they'll find it tougher than I will. After that, what will happen, will happen. It's out of your control." With that huge amount of pressure every single week, the intense training regime to stay in that physical condition, and the sheer hectic nature of a globe-trotting racing competition, decompression seems like a necessity. Russell, though, seems to want to take decompressing very literally.

"I love being by the sea so I've started free diving, which is a bit of a random hobby, but when I'm out in the water I'm just so focused on my breathing, on being underwater, that I just disconnect from the world. Once beneath the sea, down there with the fish and coral, you're not thinking about anything else except having enough breath to get back to the top!" Russell isn't the only British racing legend around. We've had a long, illustrious line of champions of which Hamilton is only the latest and Russell could potentially be next. For Russell, there's something in the inspiration of champions of old, and having seven of the ten Formula 1 teams based in the UK helps. But for him, the key to British racing success is British racing's green grass roots.

"I remember racing with Lando and Alex, and alongside other racers who didn't make it to Formula 1 but have made professional racing careers. There's definitely something about the grass roots level here that works. But it needs to stay at that level. This isn't the most economical sport in the world, so we need to make sure that we can give kids that don't have the opportunity, otherwise, the funding they need to get behind the wheel and try go-karting." That said, go-karting is never going to be cheap for most would-be podium contenders, and whether it's that or sheer pace, it's an opportunity sadly few kids have. E-sports, on the other hand, is different. "Simulators have advanced so much now. The Formula 1 game is fantastic and there should be ways we can identify talent sooner, instead of just having financial backing to push you through the ranks."

Whether coming from the classic karting angle or from killing it online with photorealistic driving games, kids are going to need to have to contend with one of the most intensely competitive sports in the world - if not the most. According to Russell, though, they shouldn't be afraid of making mistakes; quite the opposite. "The one piece of advice that I try to embrace, myself, is: don’t be afraid to fail. The times I've failed have been the times I've progressed the most, the times I've really pushed my limits. It doesn't matter what you do; failure is necessary. It's how we grow, how we learn about ourselves. There's so much pressure not to let people down, especially with younger people, but you don't want to go through life never making a mistake or knowing where your ceiling is."

And any advice for those of us not thinking of a career in racing? Even shaving a few seconds off a track day would help for a few more bragging rights. "No matter what you're driving, stay relaxed. I've driven with people that have never been on a track before. They tense up, hunch over, and it makes everything erratic. Smooth is fast - smooth with the steering, throttle, and brake. It's not necessarily how we drive in Formula 1, but if you want to speed up on a track day, stay relaxed." Obviously, it’s not lost on Russell just how many kids and F1 fans alike look up to him as a sportsman. He's young, he's hungry, and his experience is starting to pay off. But for Russell, there are other sportspeople in other sports, and one in his own who I'm sure you can guess, that he looks up to.

"I have a huge amount of respect for Ronaldo. He's without a doubt the leader in his field. The same with Djokovic - they're fighters that push their physical performance. Then there's Lewis, obviously. He puts his platform to great use and I admire him for that as much as his wins and what he's doing off the track. I hope to be one of those leaders in years to come." Now he may well get a chance as Lewis will, in 2025, be moving from Mercedes, as Russell's teammate, over to Ferrari. It's a bold move, but on the other hand it means that Russell will soon be able to race his former teammate as an actual rival. Will that be weird? "He'll be wearing a different suit, but I'll still recognise him! We're at different stages in our career, but we have massive respect for one another. For now, I'll see him on the track."

[anxiousalene]

My Thoughts On the Vengence Saga 🔱🩸

HOLY SHIT ODYSSEUS MY GOD, BRO DID NOT HOLD BACK. The saga started with I'm not sorry for loving and it was sad on Calpyso's part (WANGUI COOKED SHE ABSOLUTELY COOKED) but I'm really glad Jorge didn't have Odysseus accept her "apology" because what she did even though she tries to justify it, it was 100% wrong AND THEN HERMES SHOWED UP AND WE GET REFERENCES TO THE TROY SAGA, OCEAN SAGA AND CIRCE SAGA. AND I LOVE THE "IF YOU DANCE WITH FATE THEN I KNOW YOU'LL ENHANCE YOUR STATE" LINE. I LOVE HOW MANY THINGS GET PERSONIFIED IN JORGE'S MUSIC LIKE PRIDE AND DANGER FEEL AS IF THEY'VE ACTUALLY COME TO LIFE. ALSO, THE FACT THAT JORGE'S SISTER VOICES THE PRINCESS WINION IS SO FUNNY TO ME, LIKE WE HAVE THE WHOLE FAMILY NOW. BUT DANGEROUS IS A BANGER LIKE I KNEW IT WOULD, ALL HERMES SONGS MAKE ME WANT TO DANCE. THE WINDBAG MAKES A SECOND APPEARANCE SO WE ALREADY KNOW THAT IS GONNA HAVE SOME SIGNIFICANCE. ALSO, ODYSSEUS IS GONNA USE RUTHLESSNESS FOR SURE. I ALSO LIKE THE "DON'T THANK ME FRIEND, I'M NOT THE ONE WHO FOUGHT FOR YOU" and Odysseus is like who then?? I was kinda hoping that Athena would show back up and it would be this whole big moment but she didn't :( RIP. Charybdis is REALLY COOL it was different from what I expected and I'm pretty sure it's Jorge's only entirely solo song In the show which is really cool. I also LOVE that right before Odysseus explains he doesn't have to fight Charybidis we get an electric guitar rift to show that he's using his intelligence. AT THE END HE SEES ITHACA AND HE'S ALMOST HOME AFTER ALL THESE YEARS AND THE MUSIC IS SO SOFT COMPARED TO EARLIER IN THE SONG. But... POSEIDON SHOWS UP. IM ANNOYED FROM A SHOW PERSPECTIVE BECAUSE JUST LET THE POOR MAN GET HOME BUT STEVEN IS ALSO SO TALENTED. HE WENT BEAST MODE FOR GET IN THE WATER. I like how intentional Poseidon's threat of "I'll take your son and gouge his eyes" to give an eye-for-an-eye deal to harm Telemachus as Odysseus did to Polyphemus. I also love Odysseus really does use all his tricks because he tries to show Poseidon to forgive and almost "Greet the world with open arms" but when Poseidon ignores him, he goes F* it. Then Poseidon uses his final boss move "OCEAN SHATTER" and Odysseus gets weighed down in the water by everyone who has died because of him in someway. But what I find heartbreaking is instead of singing their own motifs or "final thoughts" they all sing Waiting and his name until something clicks in his mind. ODYSSEUS GRABS THE WIND BAG AND OPENS IT WITH GLOWING RED EYES DESPITE KNOWING THAT IT WILL BLOCK HIS ONLY WAY HOME. HE USES IT AS A JETPACK AND STRIKES POSEIDON WITH HIS BOSS MOVE "600 HUNDRED MAN STRIKE" JORGE DID SUCH A GOOD VOCALLY TO SHOW HOW ANGRY AND SURE OF HIMSELF ODYSSEUS IS. ALSO WHEN HE'S ATTACKING IT SOUNDS LIKE LEGENDARY AND I THINK IT MIGHT BE BECAUSE HE'S CLOSE TO HOME SO HE'S MORE SIMILAR TO HIS SON. ALSO, THE VOICES OF THE CREW IN THE BACKGROUND IS JUST AHHHH. ALSO, I LOVE THAT WE CAN HEAR THE WND BAG MUSIC AND THE STORM MUSIC AS THE BATTLE IS GOING ON. Then Poseidon proceeds to taunt Odysseus by the fact he released the storm because now Poseidon can kill him and there's no way for him to get home. ODYSSEUS GOES APESHIT, or rather VERY CALM. We hear the danger motif as Odysseus walks toward Poseidon and Posiedon says "You can't kill me" and Odysseus says "Exactly" HE PICKS UP POSEDON'S TRIDENT AND STABS HIM OVER AND OVER AND OVER AND OVER TO THE POINT WHERE POSEIDON IS BEGGING HIM TO STOP. but Odysseus has a Ruthlessness is mercy mentality and doesn't stop even as Poseidon, god of the seas, is calling him a MONSTER. AND THE CRAZIEST PART IS Poseidon relents the storm and asks "How will you sleep night?" and Odysseus goes "Next to my wife" AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH LIKE LINE IS SO ACTUALLY INSANE LIKE THIS SAGA WAS AN EMOTIONAL ROLLERCOASTER AND ODYSSEUS HAS TRULY STOPPED CARING ALSO, EVERYONE'S VOCALS WERE OFF THE CHARTS AND IM GOING TO BE OBSESSING ABOUT THIS FOR THE COMING WEEKS. As usual, thank you to the entire Epic Crew and everyone behind the scenes for making these sagas, they are awesome.

[esshetic]

MARS IN PISCES : Water Rollercoaster

Mars entered Pisces on the 22nd or 23rd of March, depending on where you are in the world. It is a time of change in focus and direction of energy!

Having been in the sign of Aquarius, where our focus was on the bigger picture, life felt zoomed out a little too far. Now it's time to zoom back in and get down to earth.

In deep sea, underwater, down-to-earth Pisces, our collective dreams and reality collide, and it does start to become more apparent how we are literally all the same and going through the same things at the same time.

Mars is our life force, our will, passion, sex drive, where we have courage and take initiative. Our relationship to our Mars placements may not be well-documented, explained, or easy to describe because we are in it most of the time and not observing it. Our Mars energy is second nature and instinctual, with not much time to think or feel.

Oh, the feels in Pisces! Mars will feel rather than act. Mars is commonly referred to as bringing action over an area of our life where it is placed in your natal chart, and in a transit, it will be used as a conductor of a specific energy and how we wish to direct that energy in a particular direction.

We are always living with our Mars in the moment, whether passive, assertive, or aggressive; we are in it all the time. How deep can you go? How deep can you dive into it?

Every action is Mars, including rest, boredom, or sleep, which is what we may enjoy doing more intentionally and finding joy in the minimal and mundane moments of life.

Mars in Pisces is asking us to take life moment to moment, breath from breath. Reality changes very fast, and let's move through it

Let's journey through the signs read for your Sun and Rising.

Aries, Mars will be asking you to move in flow in your 12 house however quickly the tide changes your only requirement is to move in it, dance in the rain and feel every moment without a filter of your mind.

Taurus Mars will be asking you in your 11th house to let it go, the plan the way you think the work is going to go, social intelligence, empathy and a winning smile is all the tools you need to get through your grueling schedule. Exchanging smiles will energise your light more than rest will.

Gemini Mars will be swimming around in circles in your 10th house, you are spinning your wheels and extending your energy just for the fun of it, you know you have nothing to prove right now its all fun, you have got your mojo back.

Cancer Mars is opening a heavy door into new progress with how you relate to others in your life. Those who sin differently to you are still worthy of your love Cancer, in your 9th house you are laying on the beach watching the waves lap on the shore. You have finally let it go.

Leo Mars will be dancing in your 8th house, and showing you the dance moves that you thought you could never learn, courage to learn, try fail and try again, this is a you moment, time with yourself well spent. You feel worried or anxious because you feel challenged and comfort zone threatened. This period you will learn to have trust in yourself.

Virgo Mars will be pulling you through your 7th house, there may be a lot of distractions trying to pull your directing away into a different path but Mars will give your mind a laser focus to mute out all the distractions and see yourself through to the finish line.

Libra Mars will be slow dancing in your 6th house, you may feel like being more active and doing something different like taking a Salsa dance class or pole dancing class, you may want to tap into your sensuality.

Scorpio Mars will be punching your 5th house, there is a lot of aggressive energy here with this transit in your 5th house, you will be expressing your anger more freely, the lesson is to see how you can channel the anger into something productive for you.

Sagittarius Mars will be swaying through your 4th house of your maternal energy you are someones guardian or you have a few people who are are responsible for their survival and ability to thrive, weather a mother or not you take the role of nurturer seriously and feel extremely proud about this.

Capricorn Mars will be hitting up your 3rd house I see an influx of communication and being front/ people facing, through networking or public speaking, this time you are being helped to have the courage to speak from your heart and not from your practical mind.

Aquarius Mars will be high five - ing your 2nd house there is not much information I am downloading about this transit for you, take the easy way out, chill, play video games, utilise this energy to play and not work you will thank yourself for it further down the line.

Pisces Mars will be closing out your 1st house, its an ending that this energy is helping you push that door shut, allow the feelings of grief to show up and even show out but the ending is final and fated don't want the old thing back. Focus on what God is doing in your life currently and not what has gone.

[fortpeat]

Love Sea EP 2 review

When Love Sea was announced and Both Fort and Peat kept saying that Love Sea is spicier I told myself "you survived Fortpeat in Lita nyx, you will survive Love Sea as well pshhh" oh how much of a naive idiot I was coz after last night's episode it was cemented that Nyx might not survive the Love Sea Era ! 🫢🫢😳😳🫠🫠

COZ WHAT THE EVER LIVING HELL WAS THATTT OMGGGGGG 😱😱😱😱 I AM SPEECHLESS LIKE BFMSHDMWVNDHEK36!*:$(2-_(2-?_-_! MY BRAIN IS JUST ON STATIC MODE RIGHT NOW .... 🫠🫠🫠

(ok nyx deep breaths)

A part of me knew that the beginning of the episode might be Rakmut unhinged but this level of unhingedness is what I didn't expect coz oh boy oh boy.... Fortpeat ATE heir NC scene and did not even leave any crumbs hell they outdid themselves which I somehow didn't think was possible but they did thattttt 😱😱😱😳😳

Ok moving on ... This was a real rollercoaster of an episode coz we got steamy scene and then a soft scene where they open up about their past and why they do what they do 🥹🥺🥺 and then we got them flirting and then we got even more emotional scene with Rak's trauma surfacing like I couldn't take a proper breath for a single second ! 🫠🫠🫠

I can already see Rak's protective side towards Mut and I am LIVING FOR IT !!!! coz I am already feral for this Island boy 🥹🥹 LIKE FIGHT ME YOU MONSTERS WHO LAUGHED AT MY BABY !!! 😠😠😠😤

I loved how calm and collected Mut was in this scene even though what Rak did was reckless ... 🥹🥹🥺 He was so soft with Rak and my heart can only handle so much 🥹🥹🥹 BABIESSSSSS

Rak casually claiming Mut Infront of everyone 🫠🫠🫠 I am OKAYYYYY I AM TOTALLY OKAYYYY (she was infact not okay)

And Mut's obsession with Rak biting his lips 🫠🫠 - YOU KNOW I HAVE ONLY READ THIS KIND OF DIALOGUE IN FICTIONS AND TO SEE THAT ON MY SCREEEN.... I WAS NOT PREPARED Y'ALLLL I WAS NOT PREPARED...

All in all these two are just so horny for each other they put Paisky to shame 🤣🤣🤣 and I thought I was ready for this but clearly I am not ... But give me the next episode already COZ WE ARE GETTING RAKMUT CUDDLING 🥹🥹😍😍😍

Also this scene where Mut was pulling Rak from the depths of the ocean felt symbolic to how Mut will be the one to pull Rak away from the darkness thats in his life 🥹🥹🥹

[ledcauo]

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ NANA ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

"どんなに傷つけ合っても、誰かを愛することは決して無駄ではありません。"

Events can perpetuate like dominoes, and butterflies can cause hurricanes.

Nana (Hachiko) teaches us and Nana Osaki, that love is infinite. However, we may fall in the trap of lust and loops.

With Hachi's pattern of constant heartbreak and disappointments, she never fails to hold on to the hopeful thought of finding love although fake. For her, the perfect partner exists in every man she meets; which then leaves her hung like a bellflower.

Nana, on the other hand, is spiritually stuck with Ren; a lover and talented guitarist who betrayed her for Tokyo and Trapnest. Nana is a gifted vocalist yearning for the recognition of her local band by the rest of the world.

A world where Vivienne Westwood meets J-Punk and platonic love gets confused with queer-bait. The story is timeless and extends beyond its spatial horizons. Now, the cultural aspect does play an important part in the series, but the numerous stories and events that both Nanas experience, merge and give birth to an unprecedented relatability to the audience.

Ai Yazawa takes us on a rollercoaster exploring a sea of day-to-day phenomena such as friendships, love in its purest and adulterated forms, fandoms, creative work in a capitalist and fast-paced society, etc.

An animated series that I have heavily recommended, and will continually do so.

"Hey Nana.. How come being happy and making your dreams come true are two different things? Even now, I still don't know why.."

[fanaticsnail]

Hi snail❤️ how's everything going? Keeping the doffy agenda! I must resist! Hahahaha lots of hugs and love from this now cloudy corner of the world!✨

Hello my darling! I am back home again in my state, and it is so cold and rainy and horribly wet here. Missing my parents and my sister terribly already, and I'm very fatigued.

Some highlights from the trip:

Indoor play centre: I went down a slide super fast thanks to the @physics-of-one-piece advice.

Rollercoasters at theme parks with my 4yo.

Swimming in winter, my beloved.

Nature walking on mountains by the sea.

Karaoke singing where I got to harmonise with complete strangers (and my sister and I got to sing phantom of the opera, which was so much fun).

A photo shoot where we dressed in Victorian era costumes and looked like vampires.

And my personal favourite; attend a burlesque show that was horror themed. It was like if Mihawk decided to give up his title of swordsman and take over the buggy pirates. Dracula's Cabaret; the job I chose not to take in lieu of another theatre restaurant by the sea (where I met Chef-husband).

The Doffy agenda will never cease. I love that terrible creature of a man, and I'll likely keep writing for him 😤👌. Thank you for checking in! I have no idea how long this has been in my ask box, but I do appreciate you 🖤🖤🖤.

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

What’s your story? It’s all in the telling. Stories are compasses and architecture; we navigate by them, we build our sanctuaries and our prisons out of them, and to be without a story is to be lost in the vastness of a world that spreads in all directions like arctic tundra or sea ice. To love someone is to put yourself in their place, we say, which is to put yourself in their story, or figure out how to tell yourself their story.

Which means that a place is a story, and stories are geography, and empathy is first of all an act of imagination, a storyteller’s art, and then a way of traveling from here to there. What is it like to be the old man silenced by a stroke, the young man facing the executioner, the woman walking across the border, the child on the rollercoaster, the person you’ve only read about or the one next to you in bed?

We tell ourselves stories in order to live, or to justify taking lives, even our own, by violence or by numbness and the failure to live, tell ourselves stories that save us and stories that are the quicksand in which we thrash and the well in which we drown, stories of justification, of accursedness, of luck and star-crossed love, or versions clad in the cynicism that is at times a very elegant garment. Sometimes the story collapses, and it demands that we recognize we’ve been lost, or terrible, or ridiculous, or just stuck; sometimes change arrives like an ambulance or a supply drop. Not a few stories are sinking ships, and many of us go down with these ships even when the lifeboats are bobbing all around us.

In The Thousand and One Nights, known in English as The Arabian Nights, Scheharazade tells stories in order to keep the sultan in suspense from night to night so he will not kill her. The premise of the vast thicket of stories is that the sultan caught his queen in the embrace of a slave and decided to sleep with a virgin every night and slay her every morning so that he could not be cuckolded again. Scheherazade volunteered to try to end the massacre and did so by telling him stories that carried over from one night to the next for nights that stretched into years.

She spun stories around him that kept him in a cocoon of anticipation from which he eventually emerged a less murderous man. In the course of all this telling she bore three sons and delivered a labyrinth of stories within stories, stories of desire and deception and magic, of tranformation and testing, stories in which the action in one freezes as another storyteller opens his mouth, pregnant stories, stories to stop death.

Do you tell your story or does it tell you? Often, too often, stories saddle us, ride us, whip us onward, tell us what to do, and we do it without questioning. The task of learning to be free requires learning to hear them, to question them, to pause and hear silence, to name them and then to become the storyteller. Those ex-virgins who died were inside the sultan’s story; Scheharazade, like a working-class hero, seized control of the means of production, and talked her way out.

--The Faraway Nearby (2012)

[Rebecca Solnit]

[moonsorchid]

Rewatching ep.30 of Love Between Fairy and Devil and blogging my reaction

(because I guess I want you to suffer with me?)

What is that feeling called when you miss something, but at the same time you are fully aware it's going to break your heart to pieces?

Well, that's what I am feeling now as I am starting this episode. And yes, I use sarcasm and silly humor, that will definitely not make you laugh, to deal with my emotions, so consider yourself warned.

(spoilers ahead)

So the episode begins with Xiao Lanhua looking at fabrics for her wedding dress. Imagine watching this for the first time and thinking "we are definitely getting a happy wedding, everything will be OK"

Whenever I see them walking on this balcony? platform? what would you call this? I always wonder how many people have fallen out of pure clumsiness. Why are there no railings? So if you are close to the edge and you accidentally stumble, ooops you are gone, buh bye

"Between Shangque and I, who is more stupid?" - Future Moon Queen of Cangyan Sea

Xiao Lanhua is taking DFQC's measurements for his wedding outfit. He tells her the war is coming, but she is in denial (just as I am - everything is fine, everything will be just perfect)

"No matter what happens, we face it together" *melting*

DFQC is sitting by her side as she is sleeping – which is the cutest thing ever – but she has a sort of nightmare with Chidi. She tells her that only one of them can survive. When she wakes up, DFQC is so worried. I am struggling inside, because I want him to tell her all about the bracelet. I know he can’t and that there would be no sense in doing so, but I just hate that he is keeping her in the dark.

Aaaand that’s the moment the evil Qi enters DFQC through his eyes.

DFQC is waving his sword against Tai Sui (he mainly strikes the air around him) and all I can think is how HOT he is while doing so.

I love love watching them like this

I would never imagine while watching the first episodes that there would come a time when Xiao Lanhua would tell Changheng that meeting her is inappropriate and ask him to leave.

“I am Xiao Lanhua, not the Goddess of Xishan.” These words will haunt me during the next episodes

“Tomorrow’s wedding is not your destiny.” Seriously? Just leave my babies alone! *pouting*

“Why can’t I love someone and the people at the same time?” My goodness, this is heartbreaking :(

Xishan is so beautiful

She loves him, she loves him sooooo much that not even the god turtle can stop her or Changheng or anyone.

Poor Changheng trying to badmouth DFQC to make her stay with him. Oh well

OMG, XUNFENG I SWEAR IF YOU KEEP TALKING -

Xunfeng takes her to the fake Arbiter Hall to imprison her, and yes, I hate him again (our love story is a rollercoaster, enemies to lovers to enemies), but what I notice also is that the sky is black and there is lightning and thunder. DFQC is not well :(

“Luckily I am smart.” I love you, Xiao Lanhua

Not them destroying the beautiful flowers :(

You take too much pleasure in this, Xunfeng

Great, you’ve made my girl sad, are you happy now????

For some reason I can’t hate Jieli. At least I know she is in pain. She does not like at all what she has to do. She hates herself first before anyone else can hate her.

And now Xiao Lanhua has gone to DFQC and he is hostile. It’s like watching his emotions being ripped away for the second time.

No :(

How did he find the courage to speak to her like this? I know I know why he did it, to save her blah blah blah, but still. I am telling you it feels like his emotions are being removed all over again. I hate it, I HATE IT

My heart is broken indeed:( See you for the much dreaded episode 31

Bonus: drinking game every time you read the word “hate” in this post

[lilareviewsbooks]

Gay Mermaid Books!!

Are you excited? 'Cause I'm literally so excited -- who doesn't love a gay mermaid book? Honestly, I think mermaids are a little underrated as fantasy creatures, and so it's time we change that. And be gay along the way. 'Cause why the fuck not, right?

I've compiled this list with all the gay books with mermaid and mermaid-adjacent creatures I've read before. I've also made a GoodReads Shelf with more books, as some lovely people from SaphLit (a sapphic bookclub you should definitely join!) contributed. I haven't read the ones that aren't here, though!

The Deepwater Bride, by Tasmyn Muir

If you're a veteran of queer books, you've probably heard of Tasmyn Muir! She's the author of The Locked Tomb Series, which starts with Gideon The Ninth and is about gay necromancers in space! It's a wonderful series, but before she sat down to write that, Ms. Muir penned this novellete, which is featured in the July/August 2015 issue of The Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction. 

This is a more Lovecraftian take on aquactic creatures. The Deepwater Bride follows a young girl who can see the future, and the weird things that begin happening in her small town. All the while she's falling in love (with a girl, duh)! 

This one will give you Ms. Muir's traditional cheeky style, which includes phrases such as the iconic "the drowned lord who dwells in dark water will claim you. the moon won't rise tonight, and you'll never update your Tumblr again". Not to mention, it's a quick read, and still takes you on a rollercoaster of a ride that will leave you wanting more.

Aquicorn Cove, by Katie O'Neill

Another quick read, Aquicorn Cove is the sweetest graphic novel you'll read. It's a middle grade, but like Ms. O'Neill's other work (The Tea Dragon Society, which you should also take a look at, by the way), this one can be enjoyed by all ages. 

Aquicorn Cove follows Lana, a young girl who comes back to her family's seaside town to help clean up after a storm, and soon discovers the aquicorns - seahorse-like sea creatures. And, don't worry, there will be mermaid-like creatures as well!

This one is extra special because of how cute and fluffy it is - if you're looking for a nice, comforting read, look no further! Aquicorn Cove will fill your heart and make you feel warm and fuzzy inside!

The Girl From The Sea, by Molly Knox Ostertag

The Girl From The Sea is also a graphic novel! This one follows Morgan, a 15-year-old who terribly wants to leave the island she grew up on. But everything changes when she meets a selkie called Keltie, and her desire to leave seems to lessen...

What I really loved about this one was the introduction to the mythological figure of the selkie. It's so rarely seen in modern SFF and I thought it was lovely to see it here. Not to mention, the art is super sweet and it follows that queer first-love plot-line every gay person needs to read every once in a while. Definitely recommend!

Ice Massacre, by Tiana Warner

This is the first book in a trilogy I haven't completed yet, but this first one impressed me so much, I couldn't help but recommend. It follows Meela, who lives in the fictional Polynesian island of Eriana Kwai, which has been attacked mercilessly by mermaids. As a solution, the elders send groups of young men out to sea to try and kill them, but it hasn't been going well - the men fall prey to the mermaids' songs. Now, Eriana Kwai is trying out a different strategy - sending young women, and Meela is among them. But she might not be as immune to the songs as all the other girls are...

Ice Massacre is action-packed and is perfect if you're in need of a post-Hunger Games-revival fix. Most of the story follows the girls in the boat, as the situation progressively gets more and more dangerous, and it definitely feels like reading about Katniss in the arena. Although the story does skew a little younger, I do think it's a good read, and it had me totally hooked from start to finish!

The Deep, by Rivers Solomon

This is definitely the most interesting of the mix, and the one I recommend the most! The Deep follows an underwater, mermaid-like people, descendants of enslaved African women who were thrown overboard slaver ships. Because of their painful history, they have designated someone to hold one to their collective trauma: Yetu, a young mermaid, is their historian. But this role can be more draining then it seems, and Yetu might find herself wanting something else.

The world building in this novella is just so unique! And it draws you in. The writing is very atmospheric, making you feel like you're in the ocean (and I'm super scared of deep water, so that was a weird experience lmao). Not to mention, Mx. Solomon seemlessly weaves in themes relating to slavery and the Black experience, not to mention the queer representation. It's definitely a must-read!