#lets just try to keep the communitys the most hate free possible

[alexisnotstraight]

does someone else also feels that no matter what your knowledge of a show/movie/musician/fandom/etc, its never enough? like, yeah ive seen this show front to back multiple times because i like it, and i would love to interact with the fandom and then they judge you because you didn't see the show when it first aired or you started to watch it when it became highly popular.

i think that us as people that are part of a fandom (a community for people who have a shared interest) we should be more open to accept people that don't necessarily fit the stereotype of a fan.

idk, im a swiftie, i dont get mad when i see that someone wasn't aware of the existence of the last time ft gary lightbody (my favorite ts song of all time), because is not one of her popular songs, im not expecting everyone to know the lyrics from memory and its nice that they're enjoying their music and always trying to lean more. if you enjoy something, you dont need to change the way you consume it just to fit on a community. again speaking about taylor swift, if your favorite songs her most popular and enjoy them, that doesn't mean you're a fake fan, the songs are popular for something, you're enjoying something that so many people also does. if you dont listen to the unreleased songs, if you have a few songs you dont like, if you dont know her personal life and everything about her from memory, if you dont own any merch, if you haven't been to any of her shows you're not a fake fan. and this us not just about taylor swift this is about everything.

here's another example: i ove elton john's music, i saw his biopic and feel in love with the work that he has done, i listened to his albums on repeat for years, i got out of work early just to be able to see live his concert on disney when it premiered. but, i dont like his most recent music, i didn't like the collaborations that he did with dua lipa or britney spears, i didn't even listen to his most recent album, the album before that, i only liked two songs of all of it. i dont idolize him, yes, he is someone i look up too and admire, but i dont put him on a pedestal. i judge his as any consumer of media can. am i still a fan? yes!

the definition of what makes you a fan has changed a lot over the years, you dont need to have every piece of information of that matter ingrained into your brain. there a lot of really great and caring fandoms, but theres always someone out there willing to prove you wrong no matter what

we need to change, we need to welcome people the same way they welcomed us. we need to stop gatekeeping, you wouldn't believe all the people that ive seen throwing tantrums over their favorite piece of media becoming mainstream. aren't you happy that something that brought you so much happiness is being shared around and is gonna have so much impact on other people? we cant wait for everything to get better, we need to actively try to change for the better

[ireneispunk]

Duty

Jacaerys Velaryon x female reader smut

After a rough start to your marriage, whispers from the palace cause you and your betrothed to start what you should have done months ago; produce an heir.

w.c: 1487

c.w: SMUT 18+, NO use of Y/N, not exactly enemies but y'all beefing, hate sex (if you squint, but more like dislike sex and its more just sass idfk), mention of pregnancy, breeding kink, afab reader, p in v sex, fingering, overstimulation, pls let me know if i've missed any

a.n: so i recently watched the queen charlotte bridgerton spin off and i absolutely loved it, this is very inspired by charlotte and george's earlier dynamic tee hee.

Four months and 3 days. That is how long it has been since your wedding, and how long you have loathed your husband. The two of you were not exactly close before your betrothal on account of the rapidness of it but the tensions that spread between parts of his family did not help. You both seem to fight every conversation you had thereafter, so it became easier to avoid each other. That was until around 3 months into your betrothal that questions of when you would need your dresses altering had you worried. You were supposed to making heirs but you both exploded whilst in the same room as each other.  You’d visited the prince in his separate room and communicated the issue, he was reading by the fire. You played with your fingers in your hands as he eyed the flaw, thinking intently. He placed his book face down on the table as he petted the bench beside him. You hesitated for a moment, before sitting next to him. “Once a week, we will fulfil our, uh, duty to try and produce an heir. Once you are with child we will stop.” You thought for a moment, before nodding. You couldn’t help but feel your heart sink. This was not what you had wished for in your marriage. Jacaerys was a painfully handsome man, dark curls that framed he chiselled features.

“It is the end of the week today, your grace.” You spoke, not fully considering the implications of the statement. But the quicker your belly was full the better.

He turned to you, hesitated for a moment before moving closer to you and pulled you onto his lap. You were surprised by the sudden closeness of someone, let alone your husband. He looked up from beneath you with a glimmer of what he had on your wedding night, without the naïve hope. His hands slid up from your hips to the bust of your dress, he looked into your eyes before giving the bodice of your dress a quick tug down allowing your breast to spill out. You gasped as his hands cupped over your breasts, massaging them before running a thumb over your nipple. You brought your bottom lip between your teeth as you felt a warmth spread over your body. You didn’t dare look him in the eye, keeping your eyes shut or trained on the ceiling. You felt as one hand left your breast and hike up your dress further up your hips. He sighed to himself slightly, at the sight of your exposed cunt. He could not believe his luck the first time he had saw you. You were quite possibly the most beautiful woman he had ever seen and unfortunately that did not change the more you both disliked each other. If anything, it grew. Seeing you from across the room at formal engagements, gluing to his side when you needed to seem like the happy couple. It made the frustrations between the two of you even more palpable over the past few months, given the lack of relief. You opened your eyes to see his dark eyes looking up at you. He brought his two first fingers up to your lips, “Open.” His soft tone contradicted the demand and look upon his face. His fingers slid into your mouth, gliding across your tongue as you closed your lips around them. Out of sheer lust you grinded your hips against him, needing to feel some release and gaining small jolt at the feeling of your cunt rubbing against his clothed cock. His free hand shot to your waist, fingers digging into the soft flesh. He removed his fingers from your mouth, admiring his spit covered fingers for a moment before they reached between your thighs and lightly grazed across your clit. You jolted, leaning forward to grip the bench behind him.

You could not stop the moan that escaped your mouth as his fingers slowly ran circles across your clit. He smirked as the noises that fell from your lips, knowing how much you couldn’t bare to be around him but fell apart in his arms was a satisfying feeling.  “I did not know you were so needy, dear wife.” The honorific felt like a pin prick. Insincere and laced with sarcasm.

Despite the tightening growing in your stomach, you could not let him have the final word as usual. “You hadn’t been paying close enough attention, your grace.” A flash of frustration flashed upon his face as his hand moved to grip your hair and fingers plunged inside of you. A gasp left you as his fingers thrusted deep inside of your cunt, you had gone from strolling towards an orgasm to being thrown at it. The tips of his fingers curled slightly, deliciously massaging that spot inside your pussy that drove you wild. You jaw fell open, eyes going wide at the loss of contact when he removed his fingers from you. You went to protest before seeing his cock in his hands, brows furrowed as he stroked the length.

You couldn’t hold off any longer before you took a hold of his wrists and pushed his hands away to his sides. You took his cock into your hand giving it a few pumps, watching an expression of lust spread across his face. You leaned over slightly, letting a ball of spit leave your lips and watch as it slid down his cock. He hissed, returning his hands to your hips pulling you closer to him. You took the hint, angling his cock towards your pussy, rubbing the tip over your clit for your own pleasure a few times, before lining him up and sliding down slowly, a large groan left his lips as be bottomed out inside of you. You had forgotten just how big his cock was, and just how good it had felt filling you up. You began to raise your hips up and down, moans leaving your lips as you did. You worked at a steady pace but after being accustomed to his hands began to push up and down with the movements of your hips moving you faster. Your fingernails dug into his shoulders as he pounded into you, no matter how much your stifled your moans, you gave him the satisfaction of them loudly leaving your lips. His hand reached up to yours, removing it from his shoulders and moving your fingers between your legs. You immediately got his instruction, fingers latching onto your clit. You worked tight circles into it as you got filled over and over with Jacaerys’ cock. A familiar tightness returned to your stomach as your head dropped back and numerous illicit words left your lips. Recognising your peak, he pulled you forward by your thighs, almost pressing your bodies against each other as he quickened his pace. Your orgasm cascaded over you, feeling your pussy tighten around Jacaerys’ cock and your body buzz from the overstimulation. You rode out your high atop of him, watching as his eyes screwed shut and his thrusts became sloppier.

You took the opportunity to return your knees to the bench either side of him and bob your hips up and down as fast as you could. His fingers reached the lip of the bench gripping it until his knuckles turned white. “Mmm, my grace,” You moaned out. His eyes shot open, his heart pounding at your remark. “Please fill me with your seed.” You pleaded and moaned, half doing it for a reaction, half because it felt too good. His jaw hung open in shock for a split second before he sputtered a moan from his lips, hips snapping into yours. You felt satisfied as a warmth filled your pussy. Your hips moved slightly, slowly thrusting his cock inside of you still. His hand shot to your hip, mumbling something, before you placed your hand flat across his chest. You bobbed a few more times on his cock, being sure to be as full as possible with his cum. You smirked to yourself seeing his head throne back, lip quivering, veins prominent in his hands gripping your waist, sweaty curls sticking to his neck. You slowly raised yourself off of his cock, standing to your feet and trying to mask your wobbliness as adjusting your dress.

You stole a glance his way, admiring his beauty before he spoke and ruined it. He panted through his mouth, arms outstretched over the sides of the bench. You smirked to yourself, admiring how he too had crumbled for you. The opening of his doorhandle caused him to call your name from behind you. You glanced at him and smiled. “Goodnight your grace, see you in seven eves’.” He opened his mouth to response, but you had already shut the door behind you. You hoped it would be sooner before he fucked you again.

[hellishjoel]

dark paradise 

5.2k / pairing: dbf/neighbor!joel x f!reader

Series Masterlist l Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

pt. 1 pt. 2 pt. 3 pt. 4

summary: Your mind is flooded with the memories of your private time with Joel in his woodshed, but he hasn't reached out to you since the bonfire and it's been a week. You go next door to give him a piece of your mind.

warnings/information: MA 18+ (minors DNI), no outbreak, smut, age gap (reader is in her early 20’s, Joel in his 40’s), dbf/neighbor!joel, semi-public sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, pet names, praise, Joel being a horrible communicator and texter

A/N: I edited this 12+ times and kept changing stuff, so therefore there’s probably mistakes. There’s your one and only warning lol. I’m so excited you guys are eating up the first part (off to the races), I hope the next parts to come keep ya’ll entertained ;)

“Joel-” You clenched your eyes closed. “Outside? Are you serious?” Your scolded whispers were useless. Now that Joel knew you had these needs, he wasn’t going to let you be underserved.  He perched one of your legs over his shoulder, the other spread to the side and held open by the warm palm of his hand. You could feel his hot breath on your inner thighs, your walls fluttering as he came closer and closer to your core with each kiss to the exposed skin.  “On the tailgate, Joel?” You whimpered, a flash of concern passing over your face.  “I know how much you love the truck, baby.” Son of a bitch.

Time seemed to slow after your interaction with Joel in his woodshed. The days following the bonfire were filled with excitement but quickly followed by dread and anxiety. It had been a week. 

No text, no calls, no anything.

It wasn’t that serious. It was just Joel. Besides, you had a vibrator to fill the void until he finally decided to reach out to you. Whenever that may be. 

Days one and two were the most riveting. Every time you thought of Joel, your heart raced a little faster. You didn’t have a long list of sexual endeavors, so this was still noteworthy. Giving head to your hot forty-year-old neighbor. You wondered what else would come from it. More importantly, when. 

Days three and four felt routine and mundane. After picking around your breakfast and staring out the window to Joel’s empty driveway, you would wander to your back porch to read a book on the dock. 

You were lucky to catch glimpses of Sarah. Her summer was busy with her friends from school and working a part-time job to afford having fun the summer before her senior year. If she was free, you guys would jump in the lake, sit on the dock together, tell stories, and catch up on everything that was happening in each other’s lives. Well, not everything.  

Days five and six were torture. Your vibrator had died from its excessive use, and your fingers weren’t cutting it. You wanted Joel, you needed Joel. You hated to admit it, especially since he hadn’t paid a singular ounce of attention to you since the bonfire last Saturday. Even worse, after deciding to watch Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron with your family during a movie night, you started thinking even the horse was kind of attractive. 

Day seven started with your room covered in a pale blue light. You didn’t know what time it was. You weren’t sure how much you slept, but you knew it was very little. This ache was pestering your insides, spreading a rot like an old tree log. Your mind couldn’t fade away from the way Joel felt inside your mouth, the way he filled your throat, and you breathed through the choke. Or the way he finished on your face and your tongue.  

Your well-painted memory of it all was already beginning to fade. The details weren’t as crisp, you wanted to remember every detail and hold on to it for as long as possible.  

That’s what you were trying to imagine at this ungodly early morning hour. The birds weren’t even chirping outside yet. Your fan slowly circled, trying to cool you off from the sticky Texas heat. You wished your windows weren’t jammed closed.

You heard a thud outside, your body alert as you swiftly sat up and peeked out the window. 

Despite it being a Saturday, you watched a tired and slow Joel walk out to his old pickup truck and toss a brown bag lunch inside. Where was he off to so early?

He was wearing his chunky worn-in work boots, splattered with drops of white paint stained into the leather by the steel toe. They were heavy with each step he took on his rickety wooden deck. His faded dark blue jeans sat snug on his hips with his wallet stuffed in the back pocket. His dark hair dashed with silver grays was still damp from his morning shower.  

You watched behind foggy glass as he patted down his jeans and mumbled something, swiftly turning on his heel and lightly jogging up his steps before disappearing inside again. 

Seeing him after a week of silence bubbled up a hint of anger and annoyance in you. It annoyed you that he looked so good. 

Your feet found their way onto cold hardwood before you could waste another second. You would give him a piece of your mind in fuzzy slippers and an oversized rusty-orange Texas Longhorns t-shirt that was so draped over you that it covered your black sleep shorts. 

You tiredly navigated your way out of your room quietly, not to wake your parents down the hall. You crossed your arms and hugged them to your body, the early morning chill hitting you once you were outside. You crossed your driveway to his truck, slowing once you reached his perched-down tailgate. Joel had resurged from his house with his truck keys in hand, his steps slowing once you two shared eye contact.

You’d be standing here all day if you expected Joel to speak first. 

“Hey.” 

He gave you a small nod, his eyes dropping to the shirt that reached the tops of your thighs before they managed their way back up to your face. “Mornin’.” 

He closed the gap between his porch steps and his tailgate, setting down his toolbelt and box in the bed. He looked rigid, tight in the shoulders and chest. His close proximity made you step a few paces back, the length of the tailgate separating you from Joel. 

You were afraid that if he stood too close, he might feel how badly you wanted him by radiation alone. Especially now, fresh out of the shower, half-wet curls plastered to his forehead, still smelling a little musky with his body wash.

You finally let out an aggravated sigh, hip landing against the tailgate with your arms still crossed. 

“So… where are you going this early on a Saturday?” Your face still held a slightly pinched expression though you tried to ask a casual question. 

Your curiosity made the left side of his mouth tick up in a lopsided little smirk. 

“You wanna tell me the real reason you came over here?” Joel’s tactics were ruthless. It made you feel small, young. But you weren’t, not anymore. 

You took in a sharp breath through your nose, eyes on his as your head fell to the side. Finally, the ticking time bomb inside you was counting down. All of your pent-up sexual frustration would be launched at this lumberjack of a man. 

“You haven’t texted me.” 

“Christ,” he muttered, annoyance passing over his face. “Sun’s not even up yet.” 

“Joel.” You pushed. 

“Haven’t texted you in a few years.” He said lamely. 

“I know, the last thing I have from you is asking me what you think my dad would like for a birthday present.”

“I value your input.” His teasing didn’t make you any less angry. Joel could tell. “I don’t text anyone much besides Sarah. ‘ts the only way I can get ahold of her. Don’t even remember I own a phone half the time.” 

“I know.” Your arms crossed tighter around your body. “But I have… needs.” Your voice awkwardly teetered as you evaded his eye contact.

“Needs? Do ya, now?” Joel’s accent came out swinging, his signature smirky-smile working in combination with his cocked up eyebrow. But your face held evidence of your disappointment. 

There’s a gentle lull. He should have texted you, and you shouldn’t be here telling him that. He knows. Or maybe you shouldn’t expect so much from a guy like Joel. No wedding ring, brooding, a bull with horns, Joel. Wouldn’t know it was his birthday without Sarah reminding him, Joel. Wouldn’t leave the house if he didn’t have to, Joel. Wouldn’t think to text his horny neighbor next door, Joel. 

“Didn’t text me either, sweetheart.” He points out, making your head snap up with wide doe eyes. Shit. He was right. 

You didn’t text him, either. You were just sort of expecting it out of him. You hoped he would lead the way, be the guide, reach out wanting more. But that wasn’t Joel. Were you both playing this devilish waiting game? You felt a little silly, your insides wrapping in knots as he surveyed you. 

“Well I-”

“You what?” 

He was the one grilling into you now. The sun began cresting over the water, bleaching your surroundings in a pale orange. The sun’s glare caused Joel’s eyes to squint slightly to block it out. 

You rolled your head to the side and wiggled around as you tried to stand still against his tailgate. Your frustrations were evident as you rubbed your crossed legs together. 

This wasn’t the same girl who took a leap of faith in his woodshed, who crossed the boundary between nothing to something, and set you and Joel up for a thrilling summer. You just wanted him to tell you that he wanted it too. To fuck around and do something different. Make this summer worth a damn. 

“I didn’t know if you wanted more.” You finally muster up, your voice smaller than you intended, shifty eyes looking over his. 

Your statement made him scoff, having to look away from you with a wicked smile. The orange luminescence of the sun warmed his otherwise cold face. He was amused, maybe even a little offended by your statement. 

“‘Course I want more.” He strained before pausing, his voice lowering as he took another step closer. “Look at you. Wearin’ my shirt.” He said before he towered over you, making the first point of contact as his hand reached for your hip and pulled you in closer, his fist clutching the worn-in orange t-shirt. 

You blinked a few times before looking down where he fisted the material. Shit. He was right again. 

Joel had given this to you the last summer you were in Danbury. You and Sarah took a late-night dip in the lake, and she wanted you to sleep over and watch a movie in the basement. You were too lazy to walk back home and change, so Joel gave you a towel and his Longhorns t-shirt.

You easily could have snagged a shirt from Sarah’s closet, but Joel caught you sneaking into his house and dripping water everywhere.

“Just take this. Go dry off. Get warmed up.” A statement laced with annoyance and precaution for his floors, but also attentive care. 

It was probably supposed to be just for the night, but you stole it. 

You remember that evening vividly. It was the first time you fantasized about Joel. Because the shirt wrapped you up and smelled of his musk and deodorant. It brought on a certain warm fuzziness in your tummy. The shirt had been incorporated so much in your wardrobe these last two years or so, you had forgotten its origin. But it was Joel’s.

And now you were standing here in front of him, his shirt draped over your body like an oversized blanket, showing the curves of your tits. He was fantasizing about you too. Fucking you while wearing his shirt.

There was an undeniable tension that now settled between the two of you, one you surely couldn’t satisfy in his driveway. But that didn’t mean Joel didn’t feel the same way. 

His hold on your hip tightened, your lips parting in surprise as his other hand came to your waist and hoisted you up onto the tailgate of his truck. 

He was hot, possessive of your body wrapped in his shirt. 

“Does it look like I don’t want you?” Joel’s voice was husky, lust filled. You liked getting this sort of reaction out of him. His question caused an ache in you, white heat pooling in the base of your stomach. 

Your neediness for him returned. Addicted to his touch, you felt a rush of adrenaline pulse through your body. Joel parted your legs with his body by standing between them, your little fists gripping his large biceps as you tried to regain your bearings. He was so big and burly, wide set shoulders, and a toned chest. You wanted to see him shirtless, examine his body when your time together wasn’t so limited. 

“Joel,” his name dripped off your lips with desperation, sweet like honey. He knew how you said his name when you wanted him. It brought back vivid memories of you kneeling in front of him in his woodshed.

Comfort brought you back, knowing it was safe to lean in and start kissing his stubbled neck. You didn’t want to kiss his lips, it still felt too intimate. Joel picked up on your hesitations and silently obeyed. 

Once you got to the base of his neck by the collar of his shirt, he let out a surprisingly loud grunt that he tried to jam down into silence but had failed. It caught you off guard, the ways he displayed his pleasure.

You moved back in, eager to duplicate the noise as you paid special attention to his sweet spot. You suckled and glided your teeth over the pinpoint before he forced himself away. 

“Keep it below the collar, sweetheart.” His twangy southern drawl was drenched in pleasure.

You smirked as you tugged at the collar gently with your teeth, letting it go and seeing it snap back into place around his tan neck. 

His lips found the crook of your jawline, his lips brushing your earlobe as he took it between his teeth and gently nibbled. The sensation struck a nerve down your center, a weak whine echoing against the collar of his shirt as you tried to stay quiet. 

The air had warmed up with the sun’s presence, the birds starting to chirp. Your parents could wake up any minute now, being the early risers they were. 

You pulled away to gauge his reaction. Joel was looking between you and the horizon carefully. He was debating. You both had so little time. 

“Your parents.” He pointed out, his voice ridged with pain as he planted his body between yours, his large palms splayed on your lower back and upper thigh with his fingers ghosting your sleep shorts.

“Work.” You reminded, lightly tugging on the sleeve of his shirt, fingers delicately brushing over the faded Miller Contracting logo on his breast pocket. 

You’re compelled to tell him that you need him. Because you do. You need him terribly. 

There was a silence, a deliberation of the masses. Stop while you’re ahead, at least you and Joel realized you were on the same page about wanting more. You could let him go, you should let him go. Meet up another time when it was less risky. 

“You’re not pulling away.” Your whisper broke his thoughts. Your long lashes fluttered, and your eyes were filled with an eagerness only Joel could satisfy. 

He rolled his head around, jaw tight before shaking his head. 

“Well, you have needs.” His words were filled with grit, promise. Be quick. 

Your arms wrapped around his broad shoulders, feeling the planes of his back under your small palms. Both of Joel’s big hands moved under your t-shirt, your lips parting at the feeling of his calloused and rough hands traversing your soft body. He liked how soft you were, you could tell by the way he was delicately exploring you with his lips plastered on your neck. 

“Fuck, Joel,” you whisper, grinding your hips against his desperately while one of your hands wound into the damp curls at the base of his neck. He could use a haircut soon, the longer strands winding around your fingers.

His body loomed so much over you that you were arching your spine, your legs desperately wrapping loose around his waist until he had sufficiently guided you onto your back. 

Suddenly his presence lifted. You didn’t realize you were seeing stars until he pulled away. He had way too much of an effect on you. 

“Don’t have time to fuck you right, pretty girl.” His words made you puff out a desperate sigh. 

“But-” 

“But you have needs.” He finished for you, your head feverishly nodding. The truck bed had odd ribs, half your back raised up an inch while your other half was on a little slant. It was uncomfortable to lay your head down on. Once Joel was tugging down your sleep shorts, you were quick to forget the discomfort. 

A heavy breath left you as Joel tossed your shorts over his tool belt in the truck bed beside you, feeling him pull your body closer to the edge of the truck bed with your legs pried open for him. 

Your eyes widened as he sunk to the ground, jaw dropping as your eyes looked to the sky. Holy shit.

“Joel-” You clenched your eyes closed. “Outside? Are you serious?” Your scolded whispers were useless. Now that Joel knew you had these needs, he wasn’t going to let you be underserved. 

He perched one of your legs over his shoulder, the other spread to the side and held open by the warm palm of his hand. You could feel his hot breath on your inner thighs, your walls fluttering as he came closer and closer to your core with each kiss to the exposed skin. 

“On the tailgate, Joel?” You whimpered, a flash of concern passing over your face. 

“I know how much you love the truck, baby.” Son of a bitch. 

You wished every second with him right now wasn’t fleeting. You wished he could take his time. But the both of you were so wound up anyway, you were happy just to have him be a guest between your legs. 

Joel’s beard stubble tickled your thighs, his warm lips leaving a wet trail to your cotton underwear. Your hands needed to stay busy, one planting itself against one of the ribs of the truck bed and the other fisting his toolbelt that adorned a Carhartt patch. 

Joel’s mouth was absent for a moment. He was admiring you. Admiring you with your legs spread for him in his Longhorns shirt that was several sizes too big on you. Heat chased through your body, a sly little smirk on your lips. 

“Time is of the essence, Joel.” 

He didn’t say anything back. He was staring at the wet spot that had formed through the material of your panties. He hummed, cocky satisfaction filling him to the brim. 

Joel placed an excruciatingly soft kiss over your covered mound that had you writhing under him eagerly. His palm planted your thigh down again, feeling you quiver under his hold. 

You swallowed a lump down your throat as he pulled your underwear to the side, out of his fucking way. He was seeing you for the first time. It made your chest heave with shakier breaths. 

You were glistening for him, wet and gleaming in the sunshine that was starting to dance across the lake and over the truck. Panic flooded your core. He was taking his damn time. You needed him now. 

“Joel-” you warned again, but it was too late. 

His nose nuzzled against your clit as he flattened his tongue and licked up your center, tasting you properly. Your head dug into the truck bed, a loose moan leaving your parted lips as you closed your eyes and experienced a sweet paradise. His tongue flooded you with his saliva, Joel’s taste buds in galore as he tried you for the first time. 

You wondered if he thought about you tasting you like this before. The thought as well as his head between your legs left you humming in appreciation. 

Your free hand found its purpose, nestling your fingers into Joel’s hair while his head made gentle nods against your core. His jaw was slack, mouth lodged open as he consumed your sex in its entirety. He didn’t leave one centimeter of you unmarked. He commandeered the landscape like it was his territory, his possession. 

Puffs of his name left your mouth, you couldn’t help but be vocal when he made you feel this good. 

Joel’s tongue moved now with purpose, precision. He lapped at your entrance, tongue dipping in to feel your tight walls before moving back up and around your swollen clit. He was discovering you, what made you tick, what made you burn with passion and lust.

You held back moans of his name, bringing Joel’s shirt you wore up into your mouth by the collar to bite down onto. Your muffles were concealed by the material for now. 

You ground your hips lightly into his face, finding a rhythm you liked. He lets you. He wants you to feel good. 

Thumps of your heart pounded against your chest, Joel’s tongue still working perfect circles and swipes at your clit. He pulled away just for a moment to wet his fingers, you watch through hooded eyes. His amber ones flick to yours. Can I?

 You nod your head, a silent and desperate yes. 

He pursed his lips, face pierced with concentration as he pushed his middle finger into you, your walls welcoming the intrusion with a flood of arousal to allow him deeper. You took in a shaky gasp as he filled you to the knuckle.

“Fuckk-” you said a little too loud, your eyes widening as you covered your mouth and got a well-deserved glare from Joel. 

“Can’t hold yourself together, can ya, pretty girl?” His voice was as rough as gravel. 

You couldn’t even answer him back, the threads that held together your integrity were slowly plucking loose.  

You whimpered like crazy, the shirt swallowing as much of the noise as it could, but the rhythm of his finger and his mouth returning to your clit was sending electric currents through your entire body. You were short-circuiting with Joel’s tongue and fingers playing with your pussy. 

Joel’s mouth was warm, the taste of you a new hunger for him. You could hear his jeans scuff against the ground. He was trying to hold himself steady. The realization made you throw your head back, losing the shirt as a vice as you gripped his strands tighter between your knuckles. 

“Fuck, Joel--, ohmygod-” you whimpered quietly. The slurping of your cunt was louder than your words. The noise felt so loud in your pounding ear drums, you were worried it would wake the neighbors. The neighbors being your parents and Joel’s daughter.

You were close, even with just one of his fingers inside of you, you were close. You 

weren’t sure if it was because of your pent-up sexual tension, your vibrator dying, or your fingers not doing you justice. Maybe it was the fact that it was Joel Miller, but you were holding onto a very thin rope on the verge of snapping. 

You pulled your shirt up, releasing his toolbelt as your hand fondled your tits. You could feel him smirk against your thighs as you pinched at your hardened round nipples. 

“Such a pretty girl.. Taste so fuckin’ good too.” His words reverberate against your core, the vibrations tickling your clit and making you whine his name. His compliment caused a certain warmth in your chest.

Your head lulled from side to side. He wasn’t letting you know peace once he added a second finger. You had to take a moment to adjust but Joel could feel it, he knew exactly what to do and when. He was so seasoned, experienced, he’d be the first guy to make you cum like this. 

Your thigh against his head clenched tighter around his shoulder, keeping him in close against your core as he continued to work his tongue in figure eights around your clit. The soothing circles were creating a harmonious rhythm, your stomach felt like it was going to fall through a trapdoor. You weren’t going to last much longer. 

Then he tried something new. 

A loud gasp left your lips, your body scraping its way to sit up on your elbows as you watched him nibble and suckle at your clit. Your elbow had nicked his exposed flathead screwdriver in the process, a hiss seething from your mouth. It didn’t matter now. All your mind could focus on was Joel and his hellish tongue. 

The suckling at your clit unlocked something undiscovered, your lips parting in fascination before your head fell back and landed on the tops of your shoulders as you looked to the heavens with blurry vision. 

A lazy smirk was plastered on your face as he held you in place. You weren’t going anywhere.

Heated pants left your mouth, unable to breathe with the new sensation. The sucking was a distinct sensation, one you liked. You could feel his teeth just lightly grazing your sensitive bud. It made your thighs twitch, and your walls flutter around his still pumping fingers. 

Joel’s digits moved gently with their thrust, a gasp of his name flooding the air as he curled them deep, massaging your spongy walls. 

You were breathless. You could barely muster up anything besides his name weakly on your lips. You tried to tell him, but it was already too late. 

“J-Joel I’m-- I’m cominggg, shit,” you moaned out a little too loud. The whole valley around you echoed, or so it seemed. Joel’s protective grip tightened, your hips convulsing as you came over his tongue. He fucking loved it. He held you there and took you for everything you were worth.

You dropped to your back once more, his fingers still working a slow rhythm that he was insistent on not breaking until your walls stopped fluttering around his knuckles. You were still trying to come down to Earth when he licked you clean, your body twitching every time he flicked his tongue against your throbbing clit on purpose. Fucking asshole. 

Your hold on his hair loosens. You can’t help but make a face at the sight of him. Wild curly locks, mouth and chin covered in your slick, slightly flushed cheeks. He looked just as fucked as you did. He looked submissive on his knees, his eyes gleaming as he looked to you. 

You watch with obsession as he mindlessly pops his two fingers past his lips, licking them clean of your slick. Such a compliment. 

He guided your leg off his shoulder and put your underwear back in its place. 

You leaned up on your elbows, still seeing stars. Joel stood up from the ground and brushed any residual dirt and dust off his jeans. He brought his hand up and toyed with his jaw, meaty fingers adding pressure into the masseter muscle as he worked to relieve the tension that had built while going down on you with such dedication. 

You weakly sat up, the slotted ribs of his truck bed making indents in the flesh of your arms and thighs. Brands of your filth. Your big shirt fell back into place, your legs swinging lightly as they hung off the truck bed. You glanced at the back of your arm, seeing the scrape from his tools. You’d be fine. 

Once you turned straight to face Joel once more, you noticed he was fighting back a little smile about something, his hands on his hips and his knee cocked out.

“What?” You ask, trying to scoot further down the tailgate. 

“Nothin’.” He said gruffly, taking you by your hips and lifting you with ease like a ragdoll back onto the ground. His eyes stayed on the floor, your curious gaze following his down to your fluffy slippers. 

“Oh.” You muster up, clicking the toes together. 

“They’re uh… cute.” He tried to compliment, still with a teasing smirk on his face. 

“Shut up. They’re slippers.” You griped, your hand coming up to wipe away the glisten on his chin. He took over, pinching the collar of his shirt between his fingers and bringing it up to wipe away what was left of you. It was oddly attractive. 

He reached past his toolbox and belt, handing over your black sleep shorts after feeling over the material for a moment with a swipe of his thumb. 

You muster up a thanks, looping one foot in and then the other before you adjusted the band around your waist, the orange t-shirt falling back into place at your thighs. 

You couldn’t help but look around, the serenity of the early morning hours would only last so long on the lake. People liked to walk their dogs and jog, you didn’t want anyone reporting gossip. 

You turned back to Joel and assessed him. The Texas sun was already making both of your skin swelter, despite it being just past sunrise. 

You took in a sharp breath to say something, pursing your lips to keep them shut. Joel looked at you expectantly. 

“What?”

You shook your head and shrugged, holding your hands behind your back as you teetered on your feet. 

A stern expression passed over his face. “What?” He pressed harder. 

You tried to smother a laugh. “Your hair, Joel.” 

With an annoyed sigh, Joel amused trying to tousle his curls into place with the assistance of his truck’s driver-side mirror, grumbling a few curse words in response before leaving it be. 

You admire him, how handsome he looks so effortlessly. You suddenly became glaringly aware of how you looked right now. No makeup, baggy clothes, could use a shower. Fuck. 

“I gotta get goin’, already late.” Joel said as he returned  to the tailgate, lifting it with ease and slamming it into place with a few sharp snaps. “I’ll see you. And I’ll message you.” 

A small smile ticked at one half of your mouth, nodding. It was a promise. “Please call it texting, Joel.” 

He furrowed his brows as he looked over your face. “What difference does it make?”

You snickered and shrugged. “How old you sound.” 

Cue the classic Joel Miller eye roll. “Fine. Textin’.”

“How can you be working on a Saturday? That feels illegal.” 

This mustered up a short little chortle from Joel. “It’s not technically working, that’s why.” 

Your head curiously tilted to the side. “What do you mean?”

Joel shrugged, avoiding your eye contact as he looked past his truck and to the lake. 

This was what you had to deal with. Trying to get information out of Joel was an investigative effort, one you didn’t have the energy to dig into at the moment. You finally felt tired after your week of restlessness. 

You waved each other off, your face electric as you turned away from Joel and snuck back inside without a peep. As soon as you lay back in bed, feeling your heart thumping after your meet-up with Joel, you heard the door to your parent’s room crack open, and your father’s obnoxious morning yawn followed accordingly. Couldn’t have cut it any closer.

Finally, you felt sleep caressing the edges of your mind. Not a beat after your head hit the pillow, you felt your phone vibrate beside you. With hazy eyes, you turned it over in your palm and squinted at the brightness. 

joel miller Anything I can do to get in your good graces again?

You instantly smiled, lazy fingers typing a response. 

how about a movie night? 

He took a moment to respond. You could see him thinking it over in your mind’s eye. 

joel miller Fine. 

Your face lit up as you quickly took advantage of him owing you one. 

and I can pick the movie?

You could practically feel Joel’s eye roll from a mile away. 

joel miller Jesus. Fine. Tomorrow night. 

Tomorrow was perfect. Sarah said she would be on a camping trip and your parents would be visiting old school friends in a neighboring town for drinks and dinner. 

tomorrow night it is, mr. miller 

joel miller Whatever you say sweetheart.

---

wanna read part 3? read cherry!

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[thisdreamplace]

for those who struggle

i recently got sent an anon message about frustrations surrounding the law, and how non-dualism hasn't made it any easier for them, but actually just more frustrating to the point where they're officially walking away from everything and wanting to just go back to live as they knew it before any of this.

the truth is that, oversimplification runs rampant in this community. as well as, hiding behind the realities of how difficult it all can be, because people are afraid of affirming that it's difficult or identifying with difficulty... but when we hide from this experience and try to come off as if it doesn't affect us, while simultaneously trying to give out advice, there tends to be more damage than good happening. the oversimplifying isn't the fault of anyone, as the truth is most of this is simple. but in actually living it, it tends to not be simple at all. the ego will fight till the very end to keep things the way they are, even when they hurt us. and that is worth being honest about.

when it comes to non-identification and indifference, this is not meant to be used to as yet another way to pretend something isn't happening or push down your feelings or gaslight yourself. i see these posts like, "just ignore the 3d and don't identify with it and you would have already have what you wanted" ..... this doesn't actually really help anyone, unless you're a person who strives on that kind of mentality. but i think a lot of people need a little more gentleness and realness, otherwise this journey wouldn't have been so difficult and painful. we'd all just get it overnight, but clearly, this community stays extremely active for a reason. because the million ways its already been explained still leaves so many confused and frustrated.

indifference is a daily practice, and it is NOT one that includes pretending something doesn't exist in exchange for getting what you want. it is actually, the extreme opposite. it's by acknowledging what's there... and allowing that to be what it is. the non-identification comes in from how you choose to see YOURSELF in relation to whatever that thing is. "this is painful, this sucks, i hate it... but that doesn't mean tomorrow won't be better for me. it doesn't mean my life is doomed..." etc etc etc. it's this very small flip within yourself, that actually leads to results. not trying to force yourself into believing you aren't even who you are when you've identified as yourself this entire life. remember that god's name is I AM, and literally nothing else.

and doing something to get something else is just... not it. it's time for you to truly want to feel better, regardless of anything else. that's why so much of this starts to get trickier than it needs to be.

non-identification is literally as simple as realizing... you are bound to no past, and you have the opportunity of every future you can possibly imagine. why ? because non-identification is literally just non-attachment. when you're not attached to this idea of who you were, of the struggles you used to face, you're able to allow in different experiences. and y'all... this as simple as being able to say to yourself, "i am allowed to experience something new" and don't let your fear of the unknown stop you from experiencing something new.

here's where it doesn't feel so simple though. how can you just stop identifying with this whole human self when the traumas of the past keep coming back to haunt you ? thats the thing. you don't just stop identifying with it. you let this be a process, a non-linear path to liberation. slowly, but surely, if you keep at it everyday, even when you feel you're only going backwards... one day you will realize how much more free you are. how much more easier it is to move into a new beautiful story for yourself, one that isn't contiminated by your past. but let today be today ! and whatever may come, let it come.

this is why just focusing on yourself is so helpful because if you're simply doing the best you can for yourself and your feeling state, the daily dramas are no longer your ruler.

the gag is that, the more you just do these small daily practices of sitting with yourself, choosing to not engage in the stories you used to identify with in the past, and allow new experiences to come to you... the more easy it gets, the more the truth of yourself begins to show itself on its own. you have to realize that the days are going to keep passing by anyway... so stop counting them, and just commit to yourself.

i also want to quickly note that so many seem to leave out the fact that behind all of this, within the pure nothingness that is also everything. behind our human identifications and all the things we have experienced in our lives, there is unconditional love. and when we actually begin to stop identifying so deeply with who we thought we are, we are lead right back to unconditional love. love in its purest form. so, use love as your guide when things get too difficult. it's the truest thing to who you really are.

you have to let allow yourself to experience the beautiful, despite how strange it may feel. because it's going to feel strange if you've never really experienced it before, and the ego is going to fight because even when it's good, the unknown is still strange and scary. and you never have to be perfect at this to get to experience the things you want, believe it or not. i know that i still have a long way to go on this journey, there may be much more time before i ever get to fully experience the promise in full, but that hasn't stopped me from experiencing the desires of my heart on a daily basis. that's because i used these simple things, these small little flips in how i chose to see life. even if the anxiety never went away, or it was a more difficult day full of tears... this is way more possible for you than you realize. if only you're willing to allow your life to be different than it's always been. just that small allowance, opens up all the doors.

xo dream 🕊

[naofaun]

It's normal to feel jealous. In friendships, relationships, whatever. Jealousy is a very normal, very human emotion and most likely, it's telling you that a need of yours isn't being met. But sometimes jealousy just shows up randomly and makes itself known for no reason. Maybe you have the happiest relationship possible and you still get jealous. Maybe all of your needs, and more, are being met. That's okay.

Never be ashamed of jealousy. Never be ashamed of anger or sadness or fear. These emotions are not “bad”, there is no such thing as bad emotions. You cannot be completely free of them, and they do not inherently mean you or the other person(s) is abusive.

Listen to what your mind is telling you. If you're jealous every single time your friend hangs out with someone that's not you; why? Are you scared of your friend liking the person more than you? Are you scared that you're not worthy of your friend's time and energy? Are you scared that maybe the other person secretly hates you and plans to turn your friend against you?

Whatever it is, its okay. Don't listen to people telling you that “non-abusers don't get jealous”. Because they do. It's just about how they handle the jealousy. If you listen to your body and figure out the underlying fear or insecurity, you're already doing way more than most.

Sometimes you can talk to your friend about that fear. Sometimes you can explain to them that you feel afraid when they hang out with other people because you're insecure. Do not ever make it out to be their problem, like something they should fix. They can understand and do their best to help you, but do not ever demand or even let them drop these friends for you. Unless the friends are genuinely awful people (which you should then have an entirely different conversation about), it is your friend's right to keep them as friends.

But maybe you can come to a compromise. Maybe when your friend is done hanging out with someone, they can tell you about what they did. Maybe instead of an obligation, its like a “oh my god I had so much fun and I want to tell someone about it” thing. They get to talk about how much fun they had to someone that cares, and you get to know that these other people didn't try to turn your friend against you, or whatever your fear may have been.

Anyway, my overall point is; jealousy is okay and normal. It usually covers some sort of insecurity or fear, like how anger can cover sadness or hurt. It doesn't matter how often you feel jealous - I'm a very very jealous person but I have coping mechanisms and ways to help me when I get jealous so that I don't hurt the person I'm jealous of. I will always suggest mental health assistance like therapy or medication if it's available, but sometimes, its more about the way you treat your feelings and the communication you have with your friends.

[shanksbaby]

Kuzan x revolutionary! reader - headcannons

thanks to @yama754 <3

you were a young recruit of the revolutionaries, despite your age however you soon managed to rise through the ranks of the Dragon army, and you soon gained his trust. Precisely for this reason she has entrusted you with a particular and also dangerous mission.

that is, to insert yourself among the marines, so that you can steal sensitive information on their possible future moves, and on Mary Geoise so that you can free the slaves who are in that city.

As dangerous as it was, you were excited to have such an important role

so you join the ranks of the marines, obviously starting from the rank of recruit and being assigned to a certain Aokiji. You had heard that he was a lazy admiral, who spent most of his time taking naps, and that suited you since you wouldn't have a superior who probably wouldn't keep an eye on you.

unfortunately you have caught the admiral's attention. The first thing he said to you was "Hey sexylady, are you free tonight?"

obviously you answered no, first: because he was a marine, and you hated them; second: it would have undermined your cover. Luckily for you, he didn't insist and continued to interact with you as if nothing had happened.

however over time you have become closer and closer. Despite you hate marines, you had seen how Aokiji acted towards civilians, how compassionate he was, how kind he was in his own way. And you understood that he wasn't all black and white.

and so you started opening up to him, and he did the same to you, even though he was an aloof guy. He shared his ideas about justice with you, and you couldn't help but admire him; as much as you opened up to him, you still lied about some issues so as not to blow your cover

during a mission you exchanged your first kiss, after he saw a pirate hurt you, he realized that his feelings for you were romantic: that he didn't want to just go to bed with you, he wanted more, you weren't just a 'sexy lady'

as much as you had tried to avoid any romantic connection with him, you had fallen in love. You couldn't lie to yourself anymore. So you kissed him, even though you felt bad towards Dragon.

so you move forward in your relationship, and you managed to collect important information, thanks to Aokiji, who trusts you and also starts telling you about his meetings. Of course, as much as you were happy to serve your purpose, and send information, you simultaneously felt guilty towards your boyfriend.

this went on for months, until he found out about you communicating with Dragon. He had already become suspicious of some of your behaviors, so he had decided to follow you. Now he had two options: let you go or capture you, impel you down where you will be tortured.

as much as he felt betrayed by you, he still loved you, even if he was mentally going through your memories trying to figure out if you were faking it or not, he felt affection for you. So he decided to let you go, even though he was more than capable of catching you.

you wanted to explain to him, you wanted to reassure him that it was real between you, that he wasn't expected, that you loved him, but he didn't let you speak, he simply looked at you with a look you had never seen before, icy, cold, far from that warmth of eyes that you had learned to love.

"If I see you next time, I will catch you. Don't mix my letting go this time as an alliance." that were the last words from him

[ermnmika]

Dating Dabi headcanons

Because I have a Dabi brainrot and you should too. Enjoy. dabi x villain!gn!reader.

warnings: mentions of smoking, wounds, scars and blood. mentions of dabi's true identity (no details, no spoilers).

a mix of fluff and angst. no NSFW. i tried to make him as canon as possible, but feel free to correct me. also this is fucking huge.

inspired by @chainelunaire's headcanons of dabi, especially the sewing and dealing with the smell parts.

• this man is very unapproachable. he pushes people away, doesn't let anyone near him, doesn't even speak to people unless it's necessary. he has this cold and smug demeanor that pisses a lot of people off, but he doesn't really give a shit. all he has in his heart and head at this moment is revenge.

• let's be honest, when you join the league and you two meet, he doesn't think of it much. in his eyes you're just an ordinary bystander that may help him as an asset to achieve his goals. there's nothing of that love from the first sight shit, not from him, not from you.

• the thing that starts attracting you to him the most is curiosity. after getting acquainted with all the other members of the league, you notice something - dabi is different. he feels different. he’s so closed off that no one really knows much about him, and you never once believed that dabi even is his real name. he discusses the plans, does the job, and then he's gone. even if he is in the room with everyone, he doesn't participate in things, standing in the shadows. he's more like a ghost than a real person.

• it takes some time to notice the subtle signs of communication with other members not regarding villain work. when toga tries to have some fun with him, he only rolls his eyes, telling her to shut up and leave him alone. but, there was this one time that you remember to this day: when you entered the room you were met with toga, sitting on the couch and looking at her reflection from a piece of broken mirror in her hands, while dabi is standing behind her and doing her hair. she somehow managed to get him to give her a new hairstyle and not refuse. you guessed it was because she was a comfort kid in the league, the weak point of all the members, even the most distant ones. you observe him when he's listening to twice rant about something patiently, or him discussing what new design compress could use for his next mask. he’s mostly tense, sometimes smug and easily irritated, but you see the quick glances at members when something snaps and they start arguing, or the way his brows furrow when some of them come back injured from a mission. you know nothing about this man. his likes, dislikes, dreams and aspirations, not even his real name or age. but something about him makes you think there's something more inside his heart than just hate and resentment.

• so you decide to stick by his side. find something about him, anything. and you do. you find out that this man is a walking talking contradiction. his small smug smile, but his empty lifeless eyes - a contradiction. his careless attitude, but his desperate attempts to get rid of the smell of burnt flesh - another contradiction. him keeping his distance, telling everyone to fuck off and leave him alone, but not flinching a bit when the members touch him. another one. you can't keep your smile when you think about it. he isn't the type of person he tries to have the impression of.

• he notices it too - he's very observant since he doesn't talk a lot. notices you. notices your worried glances, your thoughtful gaze, your… staring. since you became a new member he didn't trust you much, because he obviously doesn't trust people that easily. you had to work to get his trust… and you did, not even trying to. you did your work efficiently, you treated other members well, hell, you even played those stupid videogames with shigaraki that he couldn't stand. and you looked at him, not averting your eyes. he had a feeling that sometimes you looked inside him, so deep inside, that it was hard to imagine.

• it slipped past him - the time when he begins to seek your eyes whenever you are together at the bar. when he begins to feel relieved when you come back uninjured, when he doesn't want to leave and keep his distance when you stand close to him. his head, once full of pure and aching rage, his only goal in life, starts to get filled with thoughts of you… and he's terrified. it fucks with his brain and he's so confused.

• he’s fucking dense when it comes to human relationships, but the signs are very clear. he knows that you care, he just doesn't understand why. why would you? he did everything to push people away, and, well… he's hideous. on the outside and on the inside. he’s a terrible human being who got wronged by life, and he didn't want to make yours even worse than it was. the confusion is too constant and irritating. he doesn't understand his own feelings, and he doesn't understand why you would want to be with someone like… him. so he decided to not do anything, not make any difference, and let you realize that he's not the type of person you want to get together with. and when you leave him alone, the feelings will disappear, too.

• but of course, life wronged him once again by not agreeing with his plans. every day it became more suffocating for him to exist in the same space as you. of course, you weren't a pure angel, you had your own cut of crimes, but you were too nice to him. he couldn't stand it. side note: you were actually nice to everyone, it's just that his heart dropped every time you did it to him. he felt stupid, so stupid, he wanted to bang his body against the wall to get rid of this… sappy shit.

• you saw it. you saw the difference, because you kept observing carefully. is this how he reacts when he realizes people can care about him? it was ridiculous, a tiny bit fun, but for the most part very upsetting. at some point you found yourself wanting to get closer, to understand him more, to be… near him. to not leave his side. to protect him. at that moment you realized you fell. you fell pretty hard for this dumb little arsonist.

• months pass, and he makes a stupid mistake of letting you get dangerously close to him and his life. it became a routine - smoking and talking with you on the balcony, even though you don't smoke, taking strolls with you around the bar at night, stealing shit and leaving it “accidentally” for you to take, letting only you treat his wounds after operations (and secretly holding his breath while watching you treat him), subconsciously protecting you on missions, and most of all, feeling almost completely safe in your presence. he hadn't felt safe with someone his whole life, he could confidently say it was the first time. months passed, but it was still terrifying.

• the league members knew too, of course. your mutual attraction was so obvious that no one even questioned it anymore. suddenly dabi starts coming to movie nights which he used to skip, just to sit next to you on the couch and shit on the movie afterwards. he doesn’t even pay attention to it. just thinks about you falling asleep on his shoulder. but it doesn’t happen because you’re worried you’d scare him off with sudden physical contact. since when did his comfort become your priority?

“So,” Mr. Compress calls him, while cleaning an empty glass after one of those nights. “When are you planning to confess?”

“What?” Thought Dabi out loud, dumbfounded. “The fuck do you mean, Compress?”

“I guess it’s still not the right time…”

• the right time arrived when you were almost fatally wounded in a battle against multiple pro-heroes. death was undoubtedly scary, but what was more terrifying was the absolute shock and panic written all over dabi’s face. you had never seen him like this before, and neither had anyone else, because he had forgotten what it feels like to care so much about another human being that he felt like dying inside. he pressed your weak and injured form to himself, not caring about the blood, and covered you with his whole body, carrying you in his arms. he was scared shitless, and you gave all your effort to not lose the grasp on life and survive. you didn't really have anything worth to live for, and after all th things you've done you probably deserved to die, but you loved the league, and you loved him. so you were not to give up.

• there were too many colors and sounds surrounding you, but you had no idea what was going on. you felt so, so exhausted. the world before you started to lose its brightness, and you just wanted to close your eyes for a moment…

He looked at you and his breath hitched. He had to get you to a safe place, now. “Hey, hey, fuck…” He pleaded as he touched your face, trying to wake you back up, voice filled with horror and immense worry. “No… Don’t you dare fucking die on me. You hear me?! If you die I’ll fucking kill you myself.”

• you woke up the next day, all patched up in your apartment and with Dabi by your side. he never left, you thought. you found out he can't cry. he found out he's in love.

“I never asked to be here at all,” he whispered, holding you close, having you in his grip like you're the last drag of air he had left. You buried your head in his neck, his heartbeat almost like a loud drum in your ears. You were so cold, and he was so warm. “So why do I have to face the fear of losing you?”*

• after that it just kind of happened on itself. his fear of losing you overcame his fear of being vulnerable. everyone knew you were together, and they were all glad that you came back to them alive. it felt very… different. things changed. you tried to be as open to him as you could, though it was difficult even for you. you only saw him being vulnerable once, on that day. after that, he still kept his distance, because he needed time to adjust to everything. it was new for you too, so you understood and waited patiently.

• he became very self-conscious since you two got in a relationship. before that he didn't really care what people thought of him, but now he had a person he somehow had to not lose. and he couldn't help not feeling hideous. you were looking, and you saw the scars, and you felt the smell, and you looked inside his burnt heart.

• he couldn't help feeling nervous when he met your curious and… loving gaze. he closed his eyes when you brought his hands to your face and placed gentle kisses every morning you were together because he couldn't handle it. he wasn't used to getting affection, at all. he felt like ripping his body apart, but it also somehow felt good, almost addicting. why couldn't he just crawl into your head to understand your thoughts?

• once he gets used to all the physical affection, it's over for you. he’s not letting you go. once he realizes you actually like feeling him on your skin too, you're stuck with him. this man is a touchstarved lonely loser that hasn't even realized it till now, so he's glued to your body and there's no way out. he basically lives in your apartment now because you didn't want him to stay on the streets, and that means constant hugs, cuddles, kisses and more. you want some time to relax on the couch and read, or watch something on your phone? his head is on your lap, nose sticking into your tummy. if it takes more time than he anticipated, his patience runs out and he falls onto you with his whole body, knocking whatever you held out, and caging you in his grip. if you're making something in the kitchen, he wraps his hands around your waist and kisses the nape of your neck. he also loves having you on his lap, tucked in under a blanket, and he kisses your forehead. makeout sessions on the floor, holding your hand when you're on a rooftop, looking at the stars, groaning and not letting you go in the mornings. you both feel heat rising to your faces in moments like this, because sure, you touched other people, but it was never this… open, vulnerable, genuine and gentle.

• every day he surprises you with how sincere he actually is. dabi the first time you met and dabi in your arms now are like two different people. you find his playful and childlike personality rise up to the surface, replacing the cold and smug one. the moments like these are rare, but very… memorable. you hear him banging on your bathroom door when you're taking a shit because he misses you, and when you yell back, he responds with “y’know babe, i don't mind the smell. you put up with mine, so i can do the same”. or when he keeps losing in a videogame and throws the phone at the corner of the room, and punches a pillow a hundred times. “i can't! how do you fucking do these things? is there a cheat or something?” and you laugh. you laugh, and you laugh, and he thinks it's the warmest feeling he ever felt. so he keeps making you laugh. you feel so loved, because it's only you who sees him like this. it's only you who he trusts this much.

• he tells you he likes sewing. no one really did it for him obviously, and he liked holding onto his clothes, so he had to do it himself, and he actually found it soothing. so whenever you needed something patched up, he picks it up immediately. if you get a hole in your sock, he's on his knees and doing the job. he also loves dancing. he was secretly doing it his whole life, it felt freeing, in a way. and he's become good at it. on some nights he grabs your hand and pulls you into a slow dance, in a dark kitchen with the only lighting source being a lightbulb in the fridge. he doesn't think of this as romance, he never knows what romance actually is, he just does what he thinks you might like. and you like it a lot.

• there are tough times in many relationships, and yours wasn't an exception. we all know dabi isn't the most mentally healthy and stable one. there were times when he regressed back to distancing himself, when the guilt and doubts would eat him alive, and he was gone for days, if not weeks, only coming to your apartment at night through your window, and lying beside you on the bed, bringing you close. you asked him what's wrong, you tried to be there for him, but sometimes it was just unbearable. he can't. he can't tell you. he trusts you, he truly does, but not fully. he doesn't trust anyone fully. so you argue. again, and again, and again. he comes home with bruises and injuries, that you have to tend to, and you find out that his “metabolism issues” that he mentioned in the league was a lie to cover his overheating. you ask him to be careful over and over, but he can't. he has to prepare and achieve his goals. and it's dangerous. he doesn't want to involve you in that shit.

• give him time. it's all that he needs. it hurts both of you, and he hates to see you upset. he thinks that you would leave him because of it, and it scares him to his core. for the first time in his life he allowed himself to let someone get so close, and if you left, he couldn't even imagine what kind of person he would become. if you left, you’d rip out a part of him and leave him completely empty. but he always expected it. always expected you to leave him. because who would want to stay with someone like him? someone so stubborn and selfish, secretive, irritable, cold and… disgusting. so he would understand if you left, but it would hurt worse than the depths of hell he resided in.

• but you don't. you stay. it keeps hurting you, but you still stay. it irritates him, he's confused again, but he holds you close at night, he kisses your fingers, and you stroke his hair, while he's listening to your heartbeat. and then it all spills like blood from his burnt skin. he tells you everything, slowly and carefully, and you feel like you passed some kind of test. it’s ironic for some reason. he tells you about who he actually is, his childhood, everything that got up to this point, his crimes and his plans and goals. you listen attentively, and he looks so… small. open. weak and vulnerable. he looks up at you and waits for a strike. he expects you to get disgusted, to curse him and regret ever falling in love with him, to blame him for all his sins, and finally leave. it's like he went back to being a child that is about to get irreparably broken. but you only sigh, kiss the crown of his head and tell him he should’ve told you earlier. you say that you will go through all of this together, that you won't leave him, not now, not ever.

• he can't believe this. what is wrong with you? it wasn't supposed to be like this. after everything he did you still chose to stay with him. it was ridiculous. you ruined his whole perception of people. that night he kissed you until you were both suffocating. it hurt like a bitch, it ripped your insides. but you decided not to cry. you decided to learn.*

• and so, you kept smoking on the balcony together. you kept taking strolls around the bar at night. you kept coming to movie nights with the league and snuggle under the shared blanket. you kept protecting each other, treating each other's wounds, healing together. you trusted him with your life. he trusted you with his soul and beyond. you were now the most precious thing in this world for him. he even decided to try and not die for your sake. did he forget his initial goals? obviously not. has he obtained a new dream? yes. will he burn this world to ashes for you? yes. will he do anything for you? probably. if you ask well enough.

* a lyric from "the fear of losing this" by florist

* a lyric from "devour" by mr. kitty

in conclusion: he's a touch starved little babygirl that needs attention. not proofread, so i apologize for any mistakes in advance. also, eng is not my first language, so there's that.

[thezombieprostitute]

Hummingbird - Part 8

Summary: You didn't want to break into someone's party but you were desperate to see the art at the gallery before it was gone. You're so busy trying to make sure no one sees you that you miss the ever present gaze of Steve Rogers who is wondering why you crashed his party.

Word Count: ~1.8k

A/N: Reader is AFAB. No physical descriptors used.

Warnings: Rough sex, Smut. Please let me know if I missed any.

Part 7 -- Epilogue

Series Masterlist

In the weeks following Steve made sure your move was as easy and simple as possible. During the days he gave you free reign to reorganize and redecorate whatever you wanted, except for his office. During the nights he made sure to hold you tight and cuddle you as you fell asleep. You’d never felt more relaxed than when you were with his strong arms wrapped around you. 

After the dust settled from your move and redecoration, Steve suggested an art gallery visit to celebrate. You put on the dress you wore during your first art gallery date with him, the gift from Monica’s mothers. Part of you wonders if Steve knew, way back then, that you would eventually be living together. You know you certainly had no idea. It was amazing how much had changed for you since you crashed that party. 

Steve finds you getting ready and he smiles at you, eyes full of love and your heart flutters. He’s so good at schooling his expressions and body language that you treasure how genuine he is with you. 

“Are you ready, Hummingbird?”

“Just about. I’m guessing, given the late hour, it’ll be just the two of us at the gallery?”

“Correct. But don’t worry about it looking like a break in. I got the curator to let us in.”

“Thank you for that,” you chuckle. “I know you like the roleplay but I really do prefer the easy way.”

The gallery had a special theme for the month based around flora of all kinds. There were plenty of paintings based on native flora but the main event was a wing that had been filled with sculptures and made to look like a park. They called it the Garden of Wonders. Glass flowers, some made to look like they’d been encased in ice. Bronze trees with copper leaves, already showing signs of turning green. Marble lilac bushes where you could make out the individual petals. There were even small animal depictions mixed in to add to the ambiance. You felt like you were walking in a magical garden. 

Every bit was breathtaking.  

As was your custom, Steve let you take the lead. You would flit between pieces, occasionally staring, divining the most subtle of touches as he smiles at you. Steve never told you but after every visit he made sure word got to the various artists about all of the details you loved, noticed and appreciated. He never told you because he was worried it would temper your reactions or make you feel guilty for not noticing more. But he knew you’d appreciate the artists getting their due praise. 

Your happiness was probably the most important thing in the world for him. You’d never once taken advantage of his power or money. You supported his plans and ideals. You were so much stronger than you thought. He smiles fondly at the memory of how nervous you were when you’d been “caught’ crashing his party. How your eyes widened in surprise when he finally got you to take him up on his offer. How deliciously evil your smirk was when you showed his guests that you were his partner, not his charity case. 

True to your word, you never did tell him who it was that put those ideas in your head. He did figure it out, though, and had to agree that Carter and Lane’s faces of anger and frustration were a lot more fun than not inviting them ever again. He had to give it to you, you know how to do revenge right. You really made his social obligations that much more fun and enjoyable, making it easier for him to do his work, support his communities, keep his people paid and well taken care of. 

There were still moments you doubted, though you tried to hide them. Steve hated that you could still doubt yourself, or doubt his intentions. He hoped tonight would help allay some of those. 

Flitting through the Garden you pause at one of the pathways and blink. A small table had been set out. There was a small bouquet of purple roses with a card. Steve refrains from chuckling as he watches you circle the table, trying to figure out if it’s part of the display. Your eyes light up when you get close enough to see your first and last name on the card. You look to Steve and he nods as he moves behind you. 

Opening the card it reads, “turn around”. You do, confusion giving way to surprise as you see the open box in Steve’s hand. Inside is a gorgeous golden ring, made to look like a hummingbird holding a blue diamond. Your hand flies up to your face in shock as tears start forming in the corners of your eyes. You search his face for any indication he’s not serious or has hesitations. Of course you find none.  

“Y-you, you mean it, Steve?”

“I do, Hummingbird.”

You hold out your left hand and he gently places the ring on your finger. Of course it’s a perfect fit. Just like with the dress you’re wearing now, Steve has always been able to size you up. You smile, eyes full of happy tears, before wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in for a kiss. 

“Thank you, Steve.”

“No thanks needed, Hummingbird. You saying ‘yes’ is all I need.”

The second you had gotten home he helped you out of your dress and started kissing every inch of you. He’d ended up not being able to wait for the bedroom and bent you over the back of the couch, smacking your butt-cheeks until they were sore and your pussy was dripping wet for him. He’d barely undone his zipper before shoving himself into you, making you cry out in pleasure at the stretch. 

“You always feel so good,” he grunts as he keeps slamming into you. “Always able to take me so well, like the good girl you are.” You can barely hear him over your own lewd moans. He reaches around your hips and starts playing with your pearl, making you cry out appreciatively. 

His other hand goes to your throat and moves so your back is right up against him. “Look so fucking pretty with that ring on your finger. Can’t wait to make it official. Make sure everyone knows you’re mine.” 

“Yes, please, Sir,” you pant. “Please mark me as yours.”

“So fucking pretty when you beg,” he nips at your skin. “Come for me, Hummingbird.” Your response is immediate and he groans as your walls clench around him. “Always feels so damn good,” he grumbles. His hips stutter as he finds his own release and he starts kissing along your back. “So good for me. So wonderful.”

He pulls out slowly and your whine is replaced by a gasp as he pushes his fingers into your pussy. 

“Not gonna let a single drop spill out,” he states. “Gonna mark you in every way, Hummingbird.”

“Yes, Sir,” you gasp. “Yes, please mark me with your come, Sir! Want everyone to know I belong to you!”

Instead of switching to aftercare mode Steve gets you to the bedroom and gently pushes you onto the bed. You proudly note that you’ve ruined his pants with your slick. Steve lays over you, one of his arms holding his weight, the other continuing to play with your oversensitive pussy. 

“Yes! Yes! YES,” you scream as Steve makes you come on his fingers yet again. 

“I don’t recall giving you permission, Hummingbird,” Steve snarls as he nips the skin on your neck. “You’re gonna have to make that up to me.”

“Y-yes, Sir,” you moan, fighting the urge to pull away from Steve’s hand that hasn’t stopped. You’re so sensitive it’s almost painful but Steve’s hands have always made you feel so good. So have his lips, his arms, his everything.

He stands up away from the bed, finally removing his fingers. You’re simultaneously grateful for the reprieve and missing the fullness his fingers gave you. 

“On all fours, facing me,” he orders and you move quickly to obey. He undresses and you let yourself ogle at his figure. You’re not surprised he’s already hard again as you wait for your next order, mouth open. “Always so eager for me,” he chuckles. 

“Yes, Sir. Just for you.”

Steve puts his hands on each side of your face as he shoves his erection into your mouth. You lick, hollow your cheeks, moan, whatever you can to make sure it feels good for him. You love when he uses your mouth so roughly you’re left hoarse for hours. He fucks your mouth with abandon as you focus your energy on keeping yourself from collapsing. You can feel yourself leaking down your thighs and it only makes everything feel more debauched, more erotic, more pleasurable. 

You can tell Steve’s ready to come and prepare yourself but he pulls out of your mouth. You whine and his hands guide your face to look at his. “No whining, Hummingbird. Only one of your holes is getting my come. Now get on your back.”

“Y-yes, Sir,” you croak as you move to obey. You’re slower than he’d like but he recognizes that you’re dazed and strokes himself as he watches you. 

As soon as you’re on your back he pushes your knees to your chest and thrusts into your pussy. You moan appreciatively, though he doesn’t give you time to adjust. His eyes are fixated on where your bodies meet and he’s relentless in his movements. One of his hands moves to your overly sensitive clit and starts rubbing. You gasp at the sensation and he groans as you clench down on him. 

It doesn’t take long for you to become a babbling mess of, “please, Sir,” “yes, SIr,” “thank you, SIr,” “need to come, Sir, please!” 

“Go ahead, Hummingbird, come all over my cock. Push me over the edge.”

“Thank you, Sir,” you scream as you fall apart. You’re so lost in your own pleasure you don’t hear Steve’s pants and grunts as he spills into you. 

The next morning you wake up in Steve’s arms and smile at the ring on your finger. You snuggle in closer to him and he sleepily kisses your hair.

"Good morning, Mrs. Rogers," he coos.

"We're not married yet," you gently chide.

"No, but we will be soon enough. And hopefully by then we can start looking into making a nursery." You feel your thighs clench at his words and he chuckles, "maybe should go a few more rounds to make sure it sticks."

Part 7 -- Epilogue

Series Masterlist

Tags:

@alicedopey; @aryhyuuga; @cynic-spirit; @icefrozendeadlyqueen @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory; @ktficworld; @leryg0; @rayofdawnworld; @rebekahdawkins; @texmexdarling

[acourtofquestions]

Welcome page/post thx 2 A Court of Questions by @lavendarneverlands

This is my (secondary/“side”) blog for my first read (& adoration of) the Maasverse! — But take this as a heads up: I mix up the two pages frequently😅😂 sorry in advance for any confusion! — Think of this page like Potterless (except probably not half as cohesive & good as the podcast lol😂). I love enjoying the series with the fandom so please feel free to reach out or “read with me” (it’s why I’m on Tumblr; no one I know reads these). 🫶

LET’S FANDOM ABOUT IT

This is a Maasverse related blog, thus it does discuss the series & spoilers (depending on where you are in the books) HOWEVER I try to keep up to date with spoiler warnings (often in the form of: #tags, red, 🚨, or what I call the “more” bar of safety) & I hope it makes it accessible for all readers! I also really try to keep this blog inclusive & friendly for everyone (any character, any ship, any reader, any person… or fae I suppose too :-) & use proper content warnings (as I greatly appreciate that in others too) … so thank you!!

As I am unfortunately human here’s a lil up-to-date guide for what is & is not discussed thus far (& as I also try to avoid spoilers for the books I haven’t gotten to yet)

— I have read ALL of ACOTAR,

— & Currently am on a TOG series binge (everything so far up to EoS including TAB; next up after finishing EoS (which I’m about a quarter way through) is ToD & then KoA).

— None of CC (it’s next after the TOG series).

Be warned: I’m a rambler of posts & content posting, and autocorrect is my true enemy😂🤣 p.s. I’m new here & always trying to learn!😊 I do my best to do my due-diligence and properly credit. And use TW whenever I can (as I need it in my life too <3

I leave most “reaction” posts up from my first reads. Opinions of course change over time! I try to edit & update (& or re-tag) but some stay old.

Currently my favorites and majority are:

ACOTAR

I love the Archeron sisters (Feyre is dear to me, I think Nesta is an important kind of character, and I look forward to more Elain in what I’m calling ACOTAR 5&1/2)

THE Valkyrie (Gwyn esp.)

I can go any which way with the Elriel/Elucien/Gwynriel/ElGwyn/etc. “debate” (like I said though I’m here for all fans and prefer to keep it generally positive/friendly; we’re all just enjoying stories & art😊).

I love Feysand (sry Tam-Tam😅 I struggle with him)

TOG

I adore Celaena & Aelin (for posts on both I tend to call her “Aelin Sardothien” cause I love ❤️‍🔥 fireheart ;-)

Rowaelin is my fav ship (though you will find it was not an immediate love for “bird-boy”😂 from page 1😅) the “Team Chaol” force was once strong long ago (I don’t hate him now, I just like them as friends) though I’ve also shipped all the ships at some point🤣 (I like a lot of fandoms and have a very “SQUIRREL!” personality😅😂 so I do make a lot of references, despite this being my Maasverse page)

Dorian will ALWAYS be beloved as a character,

and Sam Cortland always deserves more (I love him & am still sad😅).

Lysandra is a favorite.

Manon and the 13 are killer queens (WE STAN).

— Abraxos & Fleetfoot (TOG) & “The House” (ACOSF) as characters hold a candle to no other. —

I know nothing about “CC” Crescent City (other than some positive reputations, kick-ass red heads, and intriguing covers!) … + a possible crossover (I hope)?!?

Thank YOU “fellow dreamers” for welcoming ME! into your feed & Maasverse!

& to my fellow “first time readers” Welcome to you too! 💕

+ All you old-timers THANK YOU for your loving guide notes & support (for ALL THE FANDOM FEELS😂)!

… And yeah… Hi! Much love❤️💚🩷🩵🧡 all are welcome!!! This blog does NOT discriminate & is a safe place to enjoy fandoms (because it’s about enjoying stories!) regardless of race, nationality, ability/disability, gender, sexuality, belief, age, etc. Feel free to message & tag😊 + if it helps in the matter of communicating: I identify as she/her (please always feel free to tell me your pronouns if you like :-) if you wanna call me by something other than my blog name/names you can call me Lila, I’m a Zellenial. I primarily speak English (though I know some others, they just aren’t Tumblr handy… and I kinda mean that literally as sign language unfortunately doesn’t translate well here😅😂). & I look forward to enjoying stories with you!

And there’s nothing left to say but…

— LET’S FANDOM ABOUT IT —

[arshifiesta]

So now that you all have gotten a grasp on the theme, let me give you a gist of this fiesta! We'll be conducting this for the rest of the month i.e. June 2024. There will two main types of prompts:

1. Moodboards

These will be released every 4-5 days or so for you guys to ponder and come up with anything based on or inspired from the prompt (even if sometimes it ends up looking nothing like the prompt itself 🤭) and we'll be happy to reblog your creations, even if it's a three paragraph story or any kind of edit or if you want to try your hand at fan-art but have never been able to sit down and create something— take this opportunity to start creating!

2. Word Prompts

These will be filler prompts for days in between moodboard prompts so that people can keep creating! You can also combine word prompts with any of the moodboards according to your liking, there's absolutely no restrictions. Also, even if there are new prompts, you can still create based on the old ones (again, no hard and fast rules here!)

There's no particular guidelines to this Fiesta so create whatever feels right to YOU! There's no wrong or right! And if you have any questions, please feel free to ask us in the comments, through asks, or you could even dm them if you're feeling particularly shy!

If you're too worried about putting out your content then you can of course send it to us privately and we will post it for you while maintaining all privacy that we can!

In regards to how you want to post, there are several options like:

1. You want to post an edit on YouTube/Instagram/Tik tok or you want to post some writing on Wattpad/Ao3/WordPress or something that doesn't directly get posted to Tumblr— that's completely alright! Just make sure to tag this blog @arshifiesta, make sure you use the hashtag #IPK 13th Anniversary Fiesta and a link to whatever moodboard/word prompt you're using!

2. You want to post something on other websites as mentioned above but also want to post them here or add introduction and links that direct you to other websites— Sure you can! Again, make sure to tag us and use the proper hashtag so that we can reblog all submissions/creations!

3. You want to post on Tumblr itself but aren't sure how to go about it? Okay, so if this is the case then we suggest that you refer to this post by jalebi which will give you a flexible format to use. Mention the prompt (hyperlink it if possible!), share your work and then tag our blog and use the proper hashtag!

Note: Although, there aren't any age restrictions for submissions, we request you to add community label (mature) wherever necessary!

If anyone wants to collaborate with someone, then they're welcome to tag them in the comments to see if they're interested.

And most importantly, let's be kind to one another! 🤗 Hate of any kind will not be tolerated here. And please remember to lift up new members of the fandom by supporting their work even if you've never seen them before on this website. That's all folks!

Moodboard no.1 coming right up! Keep your eyes out for us! 👀 And don't forget to tag @arshifiesta and #IPK 13th Anniversary Fiesta. Remember that we cannot reblog posts that people haven't tagged us in! Also, people who post without giving credits will be warned and reported.

In case you missed the Theme Introduction Post!

Prompt Index:

Moodboard 1

Moodboard 2

Moodboard 3

Moodboard 4

Moodboard 5

[lookforthelig-ht]

Too Soft (Joel Miller X Reader) (One Shot)

Summary: One walk around Jackson had Joel thinking it was possible to find light in the darkness. Even if he hated the Fireflies

I wrote it based on "Sweet Nothing" by Taylor Swift

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: Ahhhh first Joel fic and I think I’m obsessed?? English isn’t my first language so sorry if I made any mistakes but I think I did good? 

Warning: none? Mentions of violence, some swear words here and there, just Joel trying to be nice. No use of Y/N, implied age gap(canon Joel Miller's age, reader is in her twenties

Joel had avoided it. Ever since settling into Jackson with Ellie, he has been avoiding the “Survivors Support Group” the community had set up for people to talk about the struggles of living in a world with a deadly infection and how most the people left felt guilt over it. He knew it wouldn’t be good. It would just get him thinking about Sarah and how Ellie almost got hurt by David a few months ago as well. The guilt was eating him alive. But Maria kept insisting, as well as Tommy. They both had their reasons to keep bothering him but at the end, they just wanted him to speak up about his reality, to know he’s not alone in his feelings but at the end of the day, Joel is Joel and he would rather bottle up any feelings than let others know that he is capable of human emotions. 

Ever since arriving to Jackson, Tommy and Joel were called “Kind and Mean Miller”. Tommy just ignored it and Joel wasn’t really aware of it. He just cared about his brother, Ellie and his future niece or nephew. Joel did the basics, wake up, make breakfast, do whatever work was available and end the nights with guitar lessons for Ellie. The latter were becoming less frequent considering she was quickly becoming very close with another girl in the community, Dina. Since his nights were suddenly more free, he started to hang out more at the Tipsy Bison, were Maria and Tommy suggested the support group

“Kinda like an AA meeting?” Joel asked reluctantly while sipping from his whisky glass. Maria and Tommy just looked at each other and laughed. 

“Yeah, but you don’t have to stop doing anything, most of us have gone to at least a two meetings and they’re done every day at the same time so people can go after work” Maria explained. Her tummy was growing by the minute and Tommy just couldn’t wait to be a dad. Joel just nodded but made a mental note to never go. He thought to himself he doesn’t have anything to talk about. 

The next day went by pretty fast and when Joel was making his way to the bar, he sees the town hall. People were walking in and entering. He knew that’s where the meeting were held. So, he figured everyone entering the building would be there.

He took a deep breathe before changing his pace and go back to the town hall. He couldn’t even believe himself as he made his ways up the porch of the hall. When he opened the door, all the chairs were arranged in a big circle and most of them were occupied.

The minute he entered the room, all the chatter stops. All eyes went to him, wondering why the Mean Miller is there. His heartbeat starts racing when he noticed all the attention on him. He quickly managed to get a sit near by and just sat down. He kept a straight back and laid his hands on his knees. He heard a bell ring when a middle aged man in a desk spoke.

“ To continue the meeting we have Betta” the man called to a young woman sitting a few sits beside Joel. He had seen you before but he has never approached you. You were in your early twenties so why you would you want to be approached by an old man like him, Joel assumed. As he has the bad habit of doing so. You had a pair of baggy jeans and a rose colored sweater that matched the color of your cheeks. Your hair was always down but today you had it in a high pony. Your sneakers looked as if they were once white but now were gray. You smiled at the name Betta and corrected with your actual name before starting to speak. Joel never actually talked to you, but he knew you as the girl that always had an opinion. You spent most of your time complaining about how others are doing more work while the rest stayed inside. Joel preferred the morning watch, and you had dibs on the night one. Every morning he would find a group of people gossiping over something you did like slapping the guards if they made a pass at you or competing to see who had the best aim with their gun. Joel couldn’t put picture you in any of those but that was definitely you. 

“Evening everyone” You started and smiled at everyone in the room, even to Joel. “Um…some of you were speaking of survivor’s guilt early on. I-“ You wanted to speak but were being cut off by the tears in your eyes. You quickly wiped them away with your sleeve and continued “Wow, will I ever be ever to share without crying?” You asked and there was a quiet laugh in the room. Joel couldn’t stop staring, he never thought you had a soft spot. “As I was saying…I think that’s the name of what I’ve been feeling since the outbreak started. Why so many died or got infected but not me? Why did I make it this far but not the others?” She started asking the questions Joel has had since the world went upside down. “And I don’t only speak about the outbreak, everything I have ever lived, everything I have experienced has been like that and… even being here right now” you stopped to look at everyone in the room. “I…I can’t help but feel ungrateful, I have a house, I have water, I have food, clothes, fuck, I get to do a lot more than most people yet, I feel like I don’t deserve it. I spent most days thinking of when I was a baby, living in California, my parents were sort of on the hippie side so we lived on this commune on SoCal and…I miss it” you admitted. “I have everything, but I don’t want it.” The tears felt hot against your cheek. You stopped wiping them because they just kept coming. You just nodded because you couldn’t talk more. 

Everyone clapped as they usually did after someone shared and some of your peers beside you held your hands in support. The meeting kept moving on until it was done. People started to pick up their things and head out. You noticed Joel entered the meeting and how he managed to stay quiet all throughout. You had seemed him around but considering that most people call him “Mean Miller” you just stayed in your lane. Sure, you were a feisty one yourself, but you picked your fights and were wise to do so. Since it was his first time here, you thought he might be a little lost, so you decided to approach him before he opened the door.

“Hey! You’re Joel, right?” You went up to him to introduce yourself “Most people call me Betta” you said, praying he wouldn’t ask for an explanation of the nickname you have rightfully earned here. Joel gave you a confused look and you just sighted. “Betta as in the betta fighting fish, apparently if you put them in front of a mirror, they are ready to defend themselves and according to the residents of Jackson, I’m ready to fight even my own reflection.” You finished. You laughed at the statement as the both of you exited the hall. 

"I guess it makes sense” he admitted to you. You opened your mouth in awe, not knowing he had it in him. 

“Well, he jokes, cute” you said as you walked down the snow-covered streets of Jackson. “Did you like it? The meeting, this is the first time I’ve seen you in one” you said. You went every day, so you knew who was new and who wasn’t. It was probably the only time of the day you teared down your walls and let yourself feel.

“I guess it was alright” Joel started. He was significantly taller than you. His broad shoulders towering over you with each step. You looked at him as he spoke “Not really the type to share my feelings, ya know?” He said, probably more to himself than to you. You silently nodded, knowing where he came from. 

“Can I be honest?” you boldly asked to the man, who looked at you with raised eyebrows. You aren’t afraid of him. You approached with a smile and are making an effort to make a conversation, something that hasn’t happened in a while. “I may be known as Betta but I’m probably too soft for all this” you said looking around the town. The statement took Joel by surprise “I…I know I have this tough front but when I’m in that meeting, I can let everything out and it feels good, it reminds me that it isn’t a bad thing to be vulnerable” you confessed to the man. His once dark eyes softened at you. They had sort of spark in them, it looked like hope. For a moment, both of you stopped. The world around you seemed to vanish as you just stared into the other. You gave him a smile before you continued with your walk, even if he hasn’t talked much, his eyes were more than enough of an answer.

Joel hasn’t said much to you but it didn’t matter. The way you softly spoke made him question everything he has heard about you. How can this girl, this woman be capable of violence? Hell, he didn’t picture you holding a gun or causing a riot. You were delicate, you were graceful, you were in your own words “soft” Everything he was not yet you weren’t scared, you were fearless, you had fire in your eyes and he felt lightness in you. You didn’t let your past define you. You were determined to make the best out of the shitty situation the world was in. Then suddenly he felt your arms around him. You wrapped yourself in his body in a hug he looked like he needed

“See ya around, Miller” you said before you left him standing there.

[miss-celestia13]

Strangeness and Charm

DanxOFMC First Date One Shot

Words: 5.3k

Three months after the events in the mine, Imogen has moved to Colville and is determined to find out of the thing growing between her and Dan is something real or imagined. A dark theater, a row to themselves, and Dan's surprisingly gentle disposition leave her head spinning.

I started this a year ago and finally got around to finishing it. It is sickly sweet. Tooth-rotting fluff and romance. Just tried to capture something light and lovely. Tension, soft looks and touches as they watch the stars and open themselves up to the possibility of more. I hope you enjoy it!

Imogen

Imogen paced the pavement outside her house, counting the cracks in the concrete repeatedly until her mind spun with numbers, and it shut up that voice yelling that this was a stupid idea. It had been three months since the events of the case had come to a fiery end—three months of healing and breaking and bleeding. Most nights, she awoke to gasp for air, sweat trickling down her neck as she clutched at damp bedsheets in a vain attempt to keep her tethered to the here and now. She was getting there, though. It was easier every day to ignore the flashes that crossed her mind whenever something reminded her of those dark days.

Tonight she was meeting the one person she’d never stopped thinking about. Not even while she’d been interrogated for hours on end, FBI agents screaming in her face as she refused to give up Jake’s location. Not that she knew it. Nobody did. And he had vanished like the phantom he had to become to stay free of the twisted justice system of their country. Jake hadn’t been in touch with anyone since, and she missed him in an odd way. She had thought there was something between them in the midst of fire and blood. Still, it had turned out their situation had created a false sense of urgent emotions that had dissipated the moment Hannah was saved. They’d parted as friends and had made no promises to see or hear from one another again. And she was good with that.

The betrayal of one of their own was a poison that had yet to be sucked from shared wounds. None of them would be the same again, and Imogen thought that was good. After all, their secrets and lies had caused the entire mess; maybe now they’d communicate before hell could rain again. She’d barely spoken to them since. Lilly and Jessy had made the most effort, but Imogen was the type to let people breathe and reach out when they were ready. So far, that day hadn’t come, and it stung her after all she’d done to help, but she didn’t blame them for not wanting to speak with a living ghost reminding them of their darkest times.

Then there was Dan. His abrasive nature had been offputting and irritating. Until that hard shell had cracked like an egg, and he’d shared a piece of his heart with her, and she’d seen him for what he really was. A golden soul with a heart of sunlight that he protected with barbed words and bristled skin. They’d tentatively made plans that last day and kept in touch while her friends put their lives back together. She had initially hated that it was Dan who had reached out. Thought he was brash and combative in those early days but had soon learned that he felt and saw more than he let on. He found it challenging to deal with. He’d been trying with her over these long months they’d spoken daily over text or video calls. Planning for this night.

A first date always brings up a myriad of emotions. Nervous anticipation led the charge, a sparkle of fireflies in her belly each time she thought about seeing him, and delicate hope was the most giddy-making of them all. It was the cause of the sparkling energy currently causing mayhem in her stomach each time she imagined the many different ways this night could end. That feeling of weightlessness blended with a tang of fear had haunted her throughout the long day. She swore the clocks had rallied against her. Each time she looked, they had barely moved. The day had gone smoothly despite it ebbing like thick treacle, and the sunny weather helped boost her optimism, as had all her preparations for the date. She took that as a good omen. Her days usually were a test of endurance and fortitude. She tried to picture it in her mind; Dan reaching for her hand, his shock at her newly dyed purple hair, and she could already hear him asking if she wanted butter on her popcorn. His voice had slowly become a lullaby these past few months, soothing her and making her laugh whenever he spotted the shadows swimming in her eyes. Her dearest hope was he would remain her friend if this failed and they didn’t click.

Imogen loved and hated horror movies in equal measure. She loved being terrified after the scare was over, the giddy rush of adrenaline as you realized you were safe, and laughed at your own stupidity. He hadn’t mentioned if they were watching something scary, only telling her he was holding her to their deal. Dan was on his way to pick her up since only she moved to Colville last month and hadn’t gotten a car yet. The early evening sun beat down on her bare shoulders, the sundress she wore insubstantial as it frothed in the breeze. She was overdressed, but she had wanted Dan to see her as she was and not the terrified creature she had been for the past three months.

Her heart was a hummingbird in her chest, fluttering wings grazing her ribs every time a car slowed as it passed her. He was a few minutes late, but traffic was always bad at this time of day. The heavy satchel she’d stuffed with toiletries and a change of clothes slapped against her thighs as she continued her pointless pacing. It was presumptuous to assume she would spend the night after they left the movie theatre, but she liked to be prepared. She was reaching into her dress pocket for her cell phone when a car horn blared too close. She jumped a foot in the air, whirling with a hand pressed to her chest to see a black Mustang purring at the edge of the pavement. A shy smile curved her mouth as Dan leaned over to open the passenger side door for her. Another car waited impatiently behind him as she scurried over and clumsily got in.

Her eyes raked over him hungrily. He’d hit the gym hard after everything, and it showed. All hard lines and lovely muscle, his shirt sleeves rolled up to the elbow as he drove off with one hand on the wheel. His hair was much shorter now. She had loved the long hair, but it had looked scraggly a few days before, and he hadn’t video called her since that day. It warmed her to know how much effort he’d put in, and the new hair color and makeup she donned didn’t feel as frivolous now. He wore black sunglasses, effortlessly cool as he smiled softly at her, and she itched to scratch her nails through the scruff of his beard.

“Hello, stranger,” he chuckled in a deep voice when all they did was steal glances at each other every time he hit a red light.

“This feels weird, right?” She laughed after a long moment, making Dan grin.

“It does, but who said weird had to be wrong?” He returned, and she shook her head, smiling as she looked out her window.

She could feel his eyes on her every now and again. A flash of heat crept up her neck and colored in her cheeks when she met his sparkling gaze. Her body felt as if someone had replaced her blood with fizz. She might have floated away if she hadn’t been strapped into her seat. He chatted about mundane things, his usual sense of humor was restrained for now, and her heart grew gossamer wings as she understood he was nervous. Dan. Was nervous. That seemed absolutely ridiculous to Imogen as the man had no shame, and his brash attitude was part of why she started falling for him.

It wasn’t until they were well into the drive that she broke the easy silence. Her mind was abuzz like a swarm of bees had taken it over to build a new hive inside the dark of her brain.

“So… what movie are we seeing?”

Dan flashed her a Cheshire Cat grin, eyebrows waggling as he replied, “Well, you said you liked being scared. But I didn’t want to frighten you off on the first date… kinda hoping for a second one.”

He winked playfully, and she couldn’t help the shocked laugh that burst out of her.

“What did you pick? If there are spiders, I can’t watch it.” She warned, teasing him, and he shook his head.

“No! It actually looks funny more than anything. M3GAN? Have you heard of it?”

Frowning, she reflected on the things she’d seen and couldn’t stop the thought that reminded her that her whole life had been a horror movie for months. She did not remember if she had stumbled across a trailer or something for it.

“I don’t think so. What is it about?”

“Ahh, it’s better it stays a mystery. I want to see your face when she’s on screen.” He joked, making her giggle and play with the ends of her hair.

“I swear, if it’s anything gross, you will pay my next therapy bill.” She laughed. Dan’s undignified snort only intensified her joy.

“Deal. We’re here,” he said gently, and she was startled, suddenly realizing they were parked behind the movie theatre, and she hadn’t even noticed the car had stopped.

She hurriedly unbuckled her belt and reached for the door handle. Dan’s voice stopped her from opening it.

“Wait, you can’t deprive me of my gentleman routine!”

Chuckling, she smirked and said, “Gentleman? Come on, Dan, we both know you’re far from that.”

He exaggeratedly gasped, clutching at his chest while she tried to hold in a stupid giggle.

“You wound me, Genna! I am a sophisticated man who knows how to treat a woman.”

“My apologies, Daniel. Go on, treat me like a lady.” She teased to make his lovely eyes twinkle. The pleasure of his nickname for her still made her chest glow.

Watching as he got out and walked around the hood of the car, she bit down on her lip to restrain her joyous smile, trying to break free, and quickly failed as he opened her door with a flourish. He held out his hand, head bowed and watching through a fan of thick lashes as she took it. Tingling like a thousand tiny creatures crawling up her arm as their skin connected, the fireflies in her stomach took flight again as he helped pull her out of the low car. Her cheeks were stained pink, and a delightful warm flush crept up her neck, yet she felt utterly at ease with this man. He had seen her at her worst. Her most desperate moments had been spent with his face on her phone screen, and she had done the same for him. There was nothing to hide as she tipped her head back to meet his eye.

“Thank you, sir,” She joked as he closed the door and locked the car.

He chuckled, voice dry as dust as he said, “Sir? I’ve been called many things, never that.”

“Let me guess, uncouth, cheeky, strange... should I go on?”

He winked and slung her arm around her shoulders as they approached the ticket booth.

“You missed mouthy, obnoxious, and charming!” He chirped, making her look away to hide the smile hurting her cheeks.

He quickly bought their tickets, dropping his arm to hold the theatre door open for her and ignoring her arched brow as he fell into step beside her, and they headed for the concessions stand. Scanning the menus, her stomach grumbled. She hadn’t been able to eat much that day. Too excited and nervous, she’d forgotten that food was a necessity as time finally grew legs and tried to outrun her. Dan heard and ordered the most enormous bucket of popcorn they had, more of a trashcan, really, smothered in butter, and she added nachos and chocolate to the order once he had gotten them drinks. Carrying it all was the biggest challenge. Hot plastic cheese, cheap salsa, and jalapenos tickled her nose as he opened the screen door and let her choose the seats.

The room was chilly, the air conditioner working overtime as the bodies filling the theatre raised the temperature. It wasn’t full yet, but almost there as she climbed the darkened stairs, desperately praying she wouldn’t trip as she spied an empty row near the back. Glancing back to ensure Dan followed, she guided him into the middle of the row and plopped down. The previews started as Dan handed her a drink, and he settled in beside her. The dim lights went off, sounds of explosions, some hero rallying their team to defeat the enemy, and the quiet murmurs of people chatting about which movie they’d see next filled her ears as static skittered over her skin. His arm had come up beside hers, barely touching her, but she felt it like a shock each time he shifted, and his skin brushed hers. The hair on her arm stood straight as he did it again, and she wasn’t entirely sure if he meant it.

By the time the movie started, she had run through a hundred scenarios and questions, wondering how the date would end and if he’d make a move. Would he do it here? Taste like popcorn and syrupy sweet Dr. Pepper? She wasn’t sure, couldn’t plan for it, and didn’t want to. They shared the popcorn, blindly reaching for handfuls, jolting each time their hands met, and shyly smiling at each other. It was driving her mad in the best way. She took a deep pull of her drink to wash the saltiness away as the titular character appeared on the screen. She almost sprayed Pepsi out of her nose. Dan was grinning as she turned to him and shook her head.

“That’s the reaction I hoped for,” He had leaned in so close his warm breath ghosted down her neck, and she suppressed a shiver even as she smiled.

“I’m glad you find me amusing,” She laughed, ignoring the tremor in her hand as she rested her arm beside his again. He hooked his pinky around his almost absentmindedly. He watched her, though, like he was ensuring she was okay with it. The world might not see it, but Dan was sweet, and she would fight anyone that said otherwise.

It went on like that. Tension swirled and grew more palpable as the evil doll robot thing murdered everyone that displeased her owner. It was a current under and over her skin, electric and vivid, like she had finally awoken from a months-long sleep, and the world had returned to full, screaming color. The small touches lingered longer, hands reluctantly parting and shifting imperceptibly closer to each other. She wanted to rest her head on his shoulder and see what he would do if she did. Just do it. He clearly likes you! Stop overthinking it. She chanted it over and over in her mind but slumped down in her chair as courage failed her, and the voice in her head called her a coward.

Eyes glued to the screen, she tried to ignore the melancholy trying to creep into her heart at her inability to make a move. Dan either sensed it or had been having a similar internal battle. She managed not to jump out of her skin as his arm wound around her shoulders, fingers tapping the bare skin of her shoulder, scattering goosebumps down her arm as she turned to find him gazing at her with a question in his eyes. Is this okay? And she melted as she nodded and relaxed into it, finally giving in to the urge to rest her now silent head on his broad shoulder. She felt as if her blood had been replaced with helium, and she was at severe risk of floating away as he squeezed her gently.

The empty nachos tray lay at their feet, and the popcorn bucket was almost done, too, as Dan set it down on the open seat beside him, and every inch of her was alert as he settled back down. The weight of his eyes on her was heavier than his arm, and she couldn’t shake it off. He paid more attention to her than to the movie. Every time blood was spilled or that freaky robot danced, his eyes were on her to see her reaction. Her cheeks were aflame, hands trembling as she fidgeted with the skirt of her dress and tried to hide how pleased she was, but it was impossible. It was almost hard to breathe. Each little movement had them rubbing together. His breath ruffled her loose hair, and the heat coming from him was close to scalding, keeping the chill in the theater well at bay. She was dizzy, excited, and terrified all at once.

Whatever cologne he wore sent her thoughts down steamy, dark paths. Slightly spicy, woody with a hint of musk and clean skin. It was addictive, and she found herself sneakily inhaling deeply whenever she felt his attention stray from her. She wanted to brand it into her lungs and imprint it on her memory so she never forgot it. Time was a cruel mistress. It loved to drag out the boring parts, the waiting. But when it came time to indulge in the things she’d wanted for months, it slipped through her hands like she was trying to catch smoke. Neither moved as the credits rolled, enjoying the darkness and closeness as the other patrons left in a slow drip. Colville had never felt like home; she had believed it wouldn’t ever feel like hers. But in that dim room, the scent of him, his whisky eyes locked on her blue ones, she could feel the last three months of displacement and anxiety slowly slide free of her body.

There was an invisible thread between them. A magnetic force that drew them closer, mouths inches apart before they were aware of moving. Her lips tingled as she licked her bottom lip, and he followed the action. She went very still as he seemed to come to a decision and moved to eliminate those last inches just as the lights came on and the door slammed shut, indicating everyone else had left. They sprang apart as if lightning struck them as the usher tidied up for the next showing. Shaking hands and black internal curses at this stranger for interrupting their moment were all she knew as they hurried out. Dan burst out laughing as he held the main door open for her, and they skipped out into a beautiful summer’s night.

A plush blanket of stars glimmered overhead as he took her hand, threading their fingers together and slowing her to a casual stroll. They ambled toward the car park, taking their time as they chatted and joked.

“Your face... I wish I had taken a photo. I want it as your contact pic.” He said as she nudged him with her elbow.

Her fingers were fizzing between his, the innocent contact sending sparks flying up her arm and into her chest.

“It was funny, not scary... Though I’m sure my nightmares will now consist of that thing dancing down the hall to kill me.” She retorted as they waited to cross the busy road.

“Yeah, it made me want to climb out of my skin. Creepy.” He laughed as his hand tightened around hers, and they crossed the street.

Her heart rate was more appropriate for a life-threatening situation, not a first date, as they entered the parking lot, and his car came into view. She didn’t want to end it yet. Wanted to talk with him for hours and then do it some more when the sun came up. His steps had slowed almost to a crawl, and it made her feel brave that he was reluctant to end the night too. She smiled as he let go of her hand long enough to open the car door for her, waiting patiently for her to get in, but she paused in front of him, making him toss her a questioning look as she took a deep breath. He was much taller and bigger than her. Indeed, he was a bear of a man, and she had to push up on her tiptoes, tentatively laying a hand on his hard chest as she brushed a tender kiss onto his bristly cheek.

It was meant as a chaste, quick peck to thank him and show him she was open to more than friendship. His reaction was beautiful. She had never imagined Dan Anderson could blush! But roses were definitely blooming in his cheeks, and he moved mechanically once she’d belted herself in, closing her door and marching around to get in his side. Neither spoke until he’d pulled out of the lot and merged with the traffic. The radio played softly, an old rock song she remembered her parents singing along to the last time she’d visited them. Every glance they shared was charged by indecision and reluctance to end their lovely evening. She was tired of denying herself good things, and she thought he might be too, so she dredged up as much confidence as she could gather and offered him a way to extend their night.

“If you take a left just up here and follow it for a few miles, we can sit at this quiet spot near the docks and see if we can catch any falling stars.”

“What the lady wants...” He jested, making her giggle like a schoolgirl with her first crush.

The spot was quiet, a small hidden cove not many knew about, and she often walked there during her many sleepless nights to watch the sun recolor the world once the moon had turned into its watery bed. It was peaceful and calming, and hardly anyone went there as there was no beach to play on. The sky looked like fine art on the best nights. Sometimes, she felt that each masterful stroke of shadow and brush of light across the endless sky had been done purely for her eyes. She hadn’t told anyone else about this place and crossed her fingers that he would like it too. Her breath was tight in her chest as he took the left turn and coasted down the tarmac while she told him where he could park. Too soon, they reached their destination, and she had to fight not to hold her breath as he stopped the car and stared through the windshield at the water rippling endlessly before them.

“We can sit inside, but it’s better outside,” She nudged when he remained quiet long enough that she was starting to feel the urge to pick at her nails again.

“Come on then, Genna show me; it is your spot after all,” He said after shaking out of whatever was holding him captive.

She searched his face for any sign of turmoil or regret, found none, and relaxed slightly as he helped her again.

The salt-coated wind on her face, brine, and a clean freshness perfumed the air, and she breathed it in deeply, quickly calming down now she was in familiar territory. Her nightmares usually chased her here. Many tears had dried on her cheeks as she stared longingly at the sky, begging for a reprieve from the terror. She wanted to replace all that with something good, something fragile and full of glittering hope as they perched on the hood of his car. He didn’t hesitate this time. His arm wound around her waist and tugged her into his side as she followed his lead, arm wrapped around his hips and hooked her thumb through his belt loop. Her feet didn’t touch the ground, kicking carelessly as they enjoyed the peace. So many words were crawling up her throat, begging to be given life and sound; she was tired of holding them in.

“Thank you,” She whispered, “Not just for tonight, but for everything. You didn’t have to be there every night and day.”

“I didn’t, but I wanted to be. You don’t need to say thank you. You did the same for me.” He replied just as quietly, uncharacteristically somber for him.

“I don’t need to, but I wanted to.” She said, lifting her head to meet his eye as he smiled at her.

“I accept your gratitude, my lady,”

She snorted and poked him in the side, delighting in his false shout of pain before he laughed and kissed the crown of her head.

“Just so you know, those nights you struggled? I was struggling too. I needed you just as much as you needed me. I hope you know that,” He confessed in a murmur, serious and utterly free of his usual snark. It touched her, and she felt like she’d been dipped into a hot bath. The cold night didn’t bother her as they basked in silent comfort, speaking and joking when something popped into their heads. She couldn’t remember a time she had been able to indulge in those silences borne between two people who understood each other and did not need to voice everything that came to them. It wasn’t something she had thought Dan was capable of, but he kept surprising her. His fingers drew patterns over her dress, making her shiver and lean into him.

Soon, they lay back on the car, she mourned the loss of his touch for a split second, but he immediately grabbed her hand as they got comfortable. They stole glances at each other through their periphery as they watched nature’s finest show in the sky above them. His thumb made slow circles on her hand. An incredible prickling sensation moved in the wake of it, and she shifted closer until their heads and legs touched too. Contentment was a rare thing for her. She always found some way to sabotage it or deny it. Still, she felt it then under the melody of stars and the crash of the waves, and her heart was the drumbeat to the song her mind composed in honor of it.

“Did you tell anyone you were meeting me tonight?” She asked after a long while just to hear him speak.

“Thomas and Jessy. They’re both too happy about it, and Jessy demands that you visit her soon.”

Forcing a laugh for none had reached out to invite her or check on her, she said, “Tell her I will come soon... How are they all?”

Dan caught the shift in her mood but understood she didn’t want to poke at that wound.

“They’re okay. Some are worse than others, but they’re better than they were... It’s still weird, though.” He said, and she nodded, understanding they might never be okay again.

“Maybe one day this will all just be a memory that doesn’t hurt anymore.” She muttered, hoping it would come true as a star streaked across the sky, and Dan instantly pointed at it.

“What do I wish for?” He said with a wide grin, turning to her as if she held every answer to every question he’d ever had.

“Whatever you want, it has to be yours.” She teased as he gave her a resolute nod and took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a second as the star vanished.

When he looked at her again, she couldn’t stop her nosiness, “What did you wish for?”

Dan shook his head, “Can’t tell you. Then it won’t come true.”

“If you tell me, maybe I can make sure it does,” She chuckled, eyes locked on his rugged face as his gaze dipped between her mouth and a spot over her head.

She thought he would ignore her, change the subject or make a joke. He didn’t.

“Or I can make it come true myself.” He said in a voice that wavered as her body went loose and tight, her hummingbird heart out of control as she nodded without any idea what she agreed to.

It didn’t really matter. Not as he moved so close, her vision doubled. All she could see, feel, and smell was him. Electricity sparked under her skin as he let go of her hand to cup her face, tilting her head so gently it made her want to cry. He was careful and slow, giving her time to back away or turn him down. Instead, she gave in to the need to scratch his bristled jaw and wordlessly handed him the consent he sought. Her pulse flickered in her throat, breath quickening along with it, the rush of blood in her ears as time stretched out and the world around her faded until there was only Dan. Supple lips on hers, delectable and plush as he tested the waters, and she let go of the breath she was holding. He made a sound then like a leash snapping as he grew more insistent and brave. The scratch of his whiskers, the heat of his body, and his big hand dragging her closer chased away any doubts still flittering about her overthinking mind.

He tasted like sugar and salt, sweet with a bite as she opened for him, and his tongue swept inside to tangle with hers. It felt like discovering something new and coming home all at once. Unfamiliar but somehow fitting her perfectly as she mapped the shape of his lips, his hand dropped to her hip to pull them flush together. It was a clumsy kiss that soon turned into something so sweet and profound that she felt her nerves melt away as her body slackened and the tremor in her hands stilled. Her fingers were in his silken hair, trying to pull him closer in as her greedy lips opened wider, and she nipped at his plump bottom lip to feel him smile. His very male scent in her nose was so enticing she sighed and let herself enjoy being soundly kissed for the first time in years.

Their lips tasting each other, their roaming hands, and the scrape of his beard on her flushed, sensitive skin was all she ever wanted to feel. She felt free, a little wild, and wanted, and it was a gift beyond price as he taught her a secret language that needed no sound or words but their panting breath shared between two lungs. In all her imaginings, she had never come close. She had expected roughness, grasping hands, and a demanding mouth from him. He held her like she was made of fine glass, reverent, and like she was something he never wanted to break. It made her heart quiver and jump as they kissed. Heat cascaded through her chest and banished the frosty layer that had protected her during these past months of painful healing. The weight of it had been crushing, and now it was gone. 

Magic. She had never believed in it before. But there, on the hood of his car under the stars, she felt it ignite in her veins as he broke the kiss to stare into her eyes, and she knew his world had just tilted upside down too. All they thought they knew was now gone, and something new was ready to bloom. If they were brave enough to take it, they could grow like ivy, out of control and all over each other. Was she prepared for that? She didn’t think anyone was ever truly ready to change their lives to include another. So, instead of overthinking and writing a thousand speeches, she would never say out loud, she was tired of playing it safe. Imogen took a deep breath and jumped. 

“Your place or mine? I’ll pay for breakfast.” 

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

I may or may not write another part. I haven't decided. I wanted to write something romance-focused without smut to see if I could. Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed it, I'd love to know! :-)

[tkblythofficial]

SUBMITTED BY 🎉 ANON

TAROT READING ON R’s HEALING JOURNEY

🎉 Anon:

ok here’s my rachel healing journey reading

so what i got just reading it is just this feeling of exhaustion and fatigue

like she isn’t doing any work rn but still tired

she’s at home all day and even if she sees friends and her bf/family she still doesn’t feel as fulfilled going home

like a hamster on a wheel who still feels she’s still going

i can feel she probably isn’t sleeping well or eating enough or the right nutrients

a burning bowl/basically just a symbolic ending to her past full of hate, like she can chapter off this new era and acknowledge but let go of all the hate she got

deep breaths whenever she gets anxious or her panic attacks/going manic on soc med, a good massage for self care and meditating

she seems like a manifesting girlie so she probably knows this but the energy i get is she keeps delaying/procrastinating

acceptance and patience is important for her rn to make any progress in healing

acceptance - learning things she cannot change but also taking accountability on what she can change

to stop crying over spilt milk but deal with what she can change NOW

patience- in divine order, for her career, for everything she shouldn’t rush and be impatient because it’ll just make her more frustrated and possibly push good things that could be good for her (like how she nearly gave up thg a role that imo saved her career and public opinion)

expanding inner power- most powerful when creativity is given a voice, when she does something for her enjoyment not just work. like her writing songs is a good start, being creative

expressing free will- my choices determine how brightly i will shine; communication, blue is the colour for throat chakra too so using her voice not just singing but speaking and talking to a circle of friends she can trust is nice

unhooking the past- there’s nothing to regret when i learn from my past; i know her past has been painful with the hate, but it’s a good time to maximize and try not to give haters something they can use. don’t give them any ring they can use against her, to stay offline i think is a good lesson for her and her well being and also her public image

“your body is pissed at you -get the f outside. move your ass” probably hasn’t been as active with exercise as she usually is (i know she usually wears her gym fits when she works out but i haven’t seen any posts of it recently so i think that might help the funky energy from the emotional mess

“Thoughts can be sneaky, lying bastards - don’t believe every shitty thought you have” she’s an overthinker we know, but she doesn’t have to entertain every doubt she has.

“get after that shit. the world has your back - that project that person that idea is waiting” can be on a project or person she wants to work with or has thought of being with. she has some dreams and she may be doubting herself but she should take a chance and do it

“you are being shady - watch out shit could get ugly” i laughed reading this but part of her being shady and childish like this is making it worse for her and hinders her from really healing and being emotionally free. she needs to stop this behaviour and step back and realize how ridiculous she looks

amaryllis- determination and creative achievement (do something creative, for her own achievement and not always for a job or an award)

red rose- hidden secrets, keeping secrets from people around her and lying to herself and others will just bite her back

My reply:

I think everything tracks to what we’re seeing. Exhaustion and not being able to move on from the past. She entertains every negative doubt and we’re seeing the fallout from it. She’s stuck in her house with her phone and nothing to do. She needs a hobby and to be blunt, a life!

Honestly as I was reading, I know a lot of this is not going to happen any time soon.

Thank you for sharing! :)

[pentacass]

Please tell me all about Aelirra and Ves, how do they get along at first, how does Ves feel about finally meeting the woman that Lana <strike>left her for</strike> left her to go hunting across the galaxy for for years, how badly does Aelirra's goodness get on her nerves, how does Aelirra react to Ves/Darth Avriss's dramatics, please tell me this and more I must KNOW

our inky boi rolled up locked and loaded 🔫🔫 thenk <3

I'll touch on all these in fic hopefully but as always, nothing stops brain from going BRRRR

How do they get along at first - It's strictly professional. Ves recognises that, though she'd been key to the Alliance's creation, Ael is its Commander. The face of the Alliance that attracts most recruits. She treats Ael...politely (if very frigidly). Ael returns it with geniune warmth, patience, and an openness that makes Ves want to chew on rusted nails.

After some time, due to clashes in methods and beliefs, they'll butt heads more often. Ves argues, and argues, and argues - until one day (which kinda terrified everyone else), Ael snaps back at Ves in her first display of temper. Unfortunately, Ael's temper only delights Ves (i think she kinda fell in love tbh), and she keeps pushing Ael, whose restraint with Ves gets thinner and thinner, until they're barking in each other's faces.

That said, every storm comes to an end. They'll find common ground, learn from each other, and work in a way that accommodates them both. Even though they don't stop bickering and trying to shove each other into the dumpster. Yes, it's all Vestra's fault, and yes, Ael plays along cos she comes to enjoy it.

By the time they become friends, Lana's already floating face-down in the sea from watching her two besties fight all the time.

How does Ves feel about finally meeting the woman that Lana left her for left her to go hunting across the galaxy for for years - 'This is it? A golden retriever?? Lana, what the fuck??? What are you gonna do, ask her to fetch the sanity you obviously lost when you chose to LEAVE ME TO LOOK FOR HER?????'

She felt underwhelmed. She'd heard much of the Jedi Battlemaster who brought down the Emperor's Voice, then Revan on Yavin. She'd expected some equivalent of the Wrath, who radiated malicious potency in the Force from every pore.

Ael is the exact opposite of the Wrath, and much more subtle. Though her strength with the Force can't be denied, it is comparable to Vestra's own. All she saw was a Jedi, too calm, too detached from a galaxy that had suffered in the five years she'd spent locked away in carbonite. [We'll touch on this in fic soon! In um. The next...third chapter. ahahahha bye]

Then Ves sees Ael in battle, the unstoppable force that shatters Zakuulan shields, bright blue blades flashing as a beacon of hope in battle, and she understands Lana's judgement. If only part of it.

How badly does Aelirra's goodness get on her nerves - Let's just say it's a miracle that Ves' hands never find their way to Ael's neck.

Ves is immensely annoyed by Ael's determination to go out of her way to help everyone, to minimise collateral damage. She's even more annoyed when Ael manages to make it work, without compromising mission objectives.

We can psychoanalyse the hell out of Ves and her annoyance here, but tl;dr, she hates how Ael keeps proving her wrong and, on a deeper level, shows how Ves could achieve the same, without the brutality she'd internalised as Sith.

How does Aelirra react to Ves/Darth Avriss's dramatics

At first: calm, reasonable, accommodating. 'Let me understand you, Avriss, so that I can help you.'

Later, when they're friends: shut up shut up i'm so tired of your bullshit and your entire face

Although Ael does get angry and argue with Ves on occasion, she never cuts off all possibility of communication. After their clashes, Ves is always free to talk to Ael in private (which she never does). If she has the time, Ael will look for Ves and try to hash it out.

It's really because of Ael that they even have that first bit of understanding for each other. She manages to wear Ves down to the point where even Darth Avriss goes 'ok FINE we'll talk, if it gets you OFF MY DAMN BACK'.

[duckyfruitbat]

MOGAI

Here's a bit of LGBT history that happened right here on Tumblr. MOGAI was an attempt to rebrand and expand the community by being accepting of all labels and finding any that have been ignored by society.

In late 2013 early 2014 some LGBT youths here on tumblr realized something about the community name. The official acronym has been expanding to keep itself as inclusive as possible, but the issue is that it doesn't seem to stop. At time of writing the full acronym is LGBTQIA+ (lesbian, gay, bisexual, trans, questioning/queer, intersex, and asexual). The "+" is either everyone else, or HIV positive people depending on who you ask. As far as inclusion goes, the acronym does a fair job, but is not fully inclusive. There are variations that are longer and/or with a different order that includes pansexual, two-spirited, and straight allies. I don't think that last group includes themselves in the community.

The biggest issue with the acronym is that it is difficult to use in conversation. Most people shorten it to just the first four letters and maybe the plus, others use a more regal form of gay, and others more are using queer as a substitute. That last one is the most common, hell it's the one I use, but it does have a complicated history. It is in fact a reclaimed slur that the community has been working on since Stonewall, I'd argue that the effort has been largely successful. These days it's hard to find someone who genuinely uses it as a slur, they instead use the f slur for hateful purposes. The last example I saw of it being used as a slur was ten years ago when I was first coming out of the closet, in a video that was already a few years old.

Tangent aside, back to the early 2010's. A group of teenagers on this site was discussing the above two issues mentioned and thought that maybe it's time to come up with a new acronym that is not only short, but wonderfully inclusive without the baggage that queer has. After a short debate they landed on MOGAI (marginalized orientations gender alignments and intersex). Let me just say that for a group of teenagers online, this acronym is absolutely wonderful, it addresses all major categories while being easy to understand say and spell. It is also wonderfully inclusive, it's hard to feel left out with a name like that. I want to reiterate that this was made in a group brainstorming session.

After that the MOGAI community was born and given a flag. Real quick that flag at the top is in fact the official MOGAI flag, and I understand what they're trying to do with the symbolism and all, but did it have to be a color wheel. The original post behind the flag was lost, but the flag survived, so official meanings were lost.

Now something else that was noted by the newly formed MOGAI community was that humans are just insanely diverse. Here's where things started going downhill, people tried to name every variation they could possibly think of. Every way one person would express their sexual orientation or gender identity would be categorized, with a free flag included with each one. Variations included terms that already had a name that just wasn't mainstream yet, terms that are super specific to one or two people, or terms for what's just gender dysphoria but the poster is in denial, some un-cracked eggs that are on the verge of hatching.

The part about categorizing everything is also where a lot of trolls come in. Yeah MOGAI was famously the target of harassment and ridicule, and it is also where the "I identify as an attack helicopter" meme comes from. A lot of people decided that teenagers exploring their identities on the internet was super cringe and worth cyberbullying. Don't worry, the arrow of cringe is now pointing in their direction now for that exact behavior.

The many categories mixed in with the public harassment has led to MOGAI being just another chapter in online LGBT history. Despite its promise, it did not substitute the acronym and has instead lost to queer as an alternative. MOGAI is mostly forgotten, but it does have an impact that can be seen. Specifically in gender identity, it pushed the conversation from gender being a binary to being a spectrum in the mainstream. Non-binary identities did in fact exist before MOGAI and have for as long as humans have existed, but it forced the idea back into the mainstream and now most of us know someone who's non-binary in some way.

With all that said here's to MOGAI, for all its flaws it forced us to have a conversation!

[wild-whispering-woods]

Well, I'm back here, after almost seven years. This is going to be a rather intense post, but there is a lot of stuff that I have only very recently been facing, and I need to get it off my chest. Trigger warnings are in the tags, but I'll list them here as well, just to be sure: mental abuse, gaslighting, sexual abuse.

Let's start with a seemingly really random topic.

The series BBC Sherlock has always been a sensitive subject for me, as it was used by someone to mentally and sexually abuse me when I was quite young. In an attempt to mentally disentangle myself from the abuser, I became part of the Johnlock community here on Tumblr. I devoured the meta that was being written by the community, and it made the show make more sense to me. At the same time, it helped me mentally distance myself from my abuser, as this was a reading they completely dismissed. See, both my abuser and myself identified with Sherlock, only they took Sherlock's self-proclamation of being a "high-functioning sociopath" at face value, whereas I saw Sherlock as being terrified of being emotionally vulnerable and doing his best to suppress his feelings to avoid being seen and hurt.

I have shipped Johnlock since I was about 13 years old, and I became part of the TJLC community as it arose from that part of the fandom.

I have hated creating literary analyses for years now and avoided it as much as possible (difficult though that was in school), because it is so subjective, and it always confronts me with the fact that being mentally abused destroyed my trust in my intuition, thought processes, and ability to read people. It makes me feel like my life used to- the rug being pulled out from under you, a constant mental strain, having to be alert to everything at all times. I have been trying to read abusers' behaviour for most of my life. For every action of everyone around me ever, I analyse all possible motivations someone could have that would lead to the behaviour they display, but I could never know for certain what the right conclusion was. After all, you can never truly get into someone else's head- especially not someone who has made you doubt your own perceptions of the world in order to keep you under their control. What was real, what was a lie? I think this is why I have always loved reading meta; for once, someone else was laying the explanations out for me- and not only that, but they made it into a coherent storyline that made sense of everything. And I so wanted everything to just have a clear explanation. So when, in the fourth series of Sherlock, everyone and everything felt so completely wrong- motivations being off, details that must have taken a lot of effort but weren't right, entire scenes that didn't make any sense- I had to distance myself from it all, because no matter how much sense meta writers could make of it, the experience of watching the season brought back every feeling of wrongness and manipulation and self-doubt, and destroyed the trust in my intuition that I had been trying to rebuild. I must add that obviously I don't blame the writers for this, they weren't responsible for any of it- they were making something they wanted to make, someone else used it to completely fuck me up, and it was my choice to keep interacting with it- but unfortunately it had quite a devastating effect on me because this piece of media had been so entangled with the abuse and consequent attempt to break free of that.

I left the fandom because the mindfuck was quite literally bleeding through into my actual life. I have never been able to believe that the way I interpreted the series was not the, or at least a, way the writers meant for it to be interpreted- but I couldn’t keep being confronted with it, because 1. everyone else was saying I was out of my mind, and 2. the series was, for the foreseeable future at least, finished. To me, season 4 couldn’t be an end to the overarching storyline. Many things had gone unresolved, and unfortunately, I applied that feeling to my life; Sherlock and John never got to have an actual open conversation, not even implied. As the commentary said, for this season, who they are as people didn’t matter. They just… continued surviving, all their demons still beneath the roads they would walk. It felt like my story, like I was doomed to keep my feelings and experiences locked inside of me forever. It made me despair. I knew that for me, hoping for an eventual season 5 was a road to madness- Anderson’s mental breakdown style, without resolution. To protect myself, I had to withdraw entirely and find something more immediate to be a crutch for me to deal with my trauma. It was never healthy to put that much of my life into a TV series, although then again, someone else had decided that for me when I was still a child.

Eventually, I broke free of my abusers and I have continued with my life in the hope that I could heal, but instead of unraveling the trauma, I buried this tangled knot somewhere in my brain and I can't undo it myself. Yes, I have sought professional help multiple times over the years, but I have always been told that they could not help me because I have too many problems that are seemingly unconnected- so here I am, going back to the start of it all and pulling a John. Hopefully, writing a blog will help me as well. We'll see! It feels absolutely terrifying to share pretty much anything, anywhere, because I'm not used to doing that and also this: part of the mental abuse was someone else telling me what I was really like, or what I really felt or thought, or that the way I was, is wrong, and they would fix me, and I have never fully recovered from the idea that I don't know myself and my own feelings. Writing things down freaks me out a lot, because every minute that I think about my motivations, I seem to find a different reason for why I did something- and often, I still don't know what the real reason is. It's really scary to be confronted with the fact that I don't feel like a person, but just a jumbled collection of corrupted memories and disjointed actions. I think, though, that the only way in which I'll be able to find myself is to start a dialogue. With myself. Eventually, a pattern must emerge, right?

So, how did I get to this point? This week, I actually rewatched BBC Sherlock for the first time since season 4 aired-  the whole thing, in one sitting- and it made me feel unexpectedly, strangely good. I realised that, even with the emotional distance now, what I saw in the series is still there, and I was right for not believing I was crazy for thinking what I did. It was pretty affirming to be confronted with the idea that my interpretation of things wasn't completely off the rails. I also must say that I was grateful to season 4 for the imagery of Sherlock being on drugs and in a lot of (emotional) pain, because it mirrored how I have been feeling for a long time. Of course, I don't want anyone to suffer, but it's nice sometimes to see yourself on screen.

And finally, I am grateful for these lines: "What is the worst thing you can do to your friends? Tell them your darkest secret. Because... if you tell them, and they decide they'd rather not know, you can't take it back. You can't unsay it. Once you've opened your heart, you can't close it again." I have never shared specifics with anyone, because I can't live with the idea that they won’t believe me. Or that I will look at a loved one and see what I told them behind their eyes. Even if they wouldn't be thinking about it. I would. I would know that they know. And I want it not to be true. But when I've told them, it will be real. And they will remind me of it.