#pretending to tag literally every state

[fandomgeeknerd]

ok i'm done i did it here it is ( i got done with this last night but i knew it wouldn't get any traction if i posted it last night)

and now i will list off every book on this list so you guys can know

list under cut cus listing 50 books is long af

the west: the night before christmas in nevada by sue carabine, The Twelve Days of Christmas in Oregon by Susan Blackaby, 'Twas the Night Before Christmas in Washington illustrated by Jo Parry, The Twelve Days of Christmas in Arizona by Jennifer J. Stewart, 'Twas the Night Before Christmas in New Mexico illustrated by Jo Parry, 12 little elves visit colorado by trish madson, santa's sleigh is on it's way to wyoming by eric james, 12 Little Elves Visit Montana by trish madson, The Night Before Christmas in Idaho by sue carabine, Santa Is Coming to Utah by Steve Smallman, santa's sleigh is on it's way to alaska by eric james, Hawaiian Christmas Day by Beth Greenway and you already know cali's book.

the south: Santa Is Coming to Tulsa by Steve Smallman, 'Twas the Night Before Christmas in Arkansas illustrated by Jo Parry, Christmas Stories from Mississippi by Wyatt Waters,I Saw Santa in Alabama by JD Green, The Twelve Days of Christmas in Georgia by Susan Rosson Spain, the Charleston 12 Days of Christmas by Vickie Trippe, The North Carolina Night Before Christmas by E. J. Sullivan, The Twelve Days of Christmas in Tennessee by Alice Faye Duncan, An Old Kentucky Christmas by pat lucas, 'Twas the Night Before Christmas in West Virginia illustrated by Jo Parry, Santa's Visit to Maryland by Lynn Roxy Gambrill, I Saw Santa in Virginia by JD Green, Santa's Sleigh Is on Its Way to Delaware by Eric James, The Twelve Days of Christmas in Washington, D.C. by Candice Ransom, you guys already know what tex, loui and flo's books are.

the midwest: 'Twas the Night Before Christmas in North Dakota illustrated by Jo Parry, Santa Is Coming to South Dakota by Steve Smallman, 12 Little Elves Visit Nebraska by trish madson, 'Twas the Night Before Christmas in Kansas City illustrated by Jo Parry, The Twelve Days of Christmas in Missouri by Ann Ingalls, Santa Is Coming to Iowa by Steve Smallman, A Minnesota Christmas by Ryan Jacobson, The Twelve Days of Christmas in Wisconsin by Erin Eitter Kono, The Twelve Days of Christmas in Illinois by Gina Bellisario, The Twelve Days of Christmas in Indiana by Donna Griffin, 'Twas the Night Before Christmas in Ohio illustrated by Jo Parry, A Michigan Night Before Christmas by Norma Lewis.

the northeast: Pennsylvania Dutch Night Before Christmas by Chet Williamson, The Twelve Days of Christmas in New Jersey by Margaret Woollatt, Santa Is Coming to Connecticut by Steve Smallman, 'Twas the Night Before Christmas in Rhode Island illustrated by Jo Parry, Santa Is Coming to Massachusetts by Steve Smallman, now maine has two books one is The Lobsters' Night Before Christmas by Christina Laurie and the second one is One Maine Christmas Eve by Douglas Coffin, 'Twas the Night Before Christmas in Vermont illustrated by Jo Parry, and lastly Santa's Sleigh Is on Its Way to New Hampshire by Eric James and you guys already know ny's book.

ok now enjoy this post bye

[al-luviec]

still haven't moved on from zane in this episode (aka I hit tag limit again and am unhappy about it)

[lady-lauren]

❥ SHANKS X FEM!READER

❥ WORD COUNT: 2.3k

❥ WARNINGS/TAGS: forced orgasms, some yandere vibes, dub-con to be safe, very inappropriate use of conqueror's haki, power dynamics (captain/crew), praise, creampie, Shanks is so mean but so good and I would die for him

→ Kinktober Masterlist ←

“You’re gonna cum for me, darlin’, even if I have to take it from you.”

The weight of his words curl around your throat like a vice, blood pumping in your ears you until can barely hear his boisterous laugh. 

The smile he gives is so cheshire, so oddly genuine, it makes a shiver of fear run down the back of your neck. Perhaps it’s actually pleasure, but the emotions are too entangled for your brain to piece apart your state of mind. 

He’s not letting you go this time, not until he gets what he wants. 

“Shanks,” you plead, nails gripping into the black fabric of his cloak, “we shouldn’t, you’re my captain, and I—”

“And your captain knows what’s best for you. Promise.”

The playful lilt in his voice is disarming. 

He always lures you in so easily, and usually you can squirm away, calm your raging heart and pretend like you’re not the object of his desires. Because you shouldn’t be, you can’t be, you’re honor bound to serve him as your captain and you refuse to let lust cloud your relationship to Shanks. He helped make you a pirate. You’re more than a mistress.

Yet he’s already stripped you bare for him tonight, easy work for one of the most powerful men on the seas.

Warm lips press into your cheek as you turn your face from him, gritting your teeth as you deny his kiss.

Shanks chuckles in the face of your defiance, squishing his fingers into your cheeks to make you look at him. 

“You know, you really are cute, thinking you can stop me. Besides, don’t you want to follow Captain’s orders, hm? That’s why I picked you—you’re so loyal, always willing to please. But you should please and be pleased.”

His eyes close with a sincere smile, the pink scars nearly shining in the firelight of his room.

Perhaps you do forget sometimes how weak you are compared to him, to the man who can cut down enemies with a single gaze. 

Trapped between his colossal body and the wall, you have nowhere to run, no way to slink off and keep only ghosts of his touches. He’s going to make you feel every moment.

“Want me to show you how good I can make you feel?” 

“Trust me, I know, I know how good you’d feel, but I can’t—”

“You have no idea.”

Somehow he feels closer, as if the sun-kissed skin of his chest from his parted shirt is already blending into yours. He is darkness clouding over you, engulfing you.

He cups your chin with his hand, big fingers spilling down onto your neck. He slants his mouth over yours before you can protest, moving plush lips until you can’t help but moan. Spiced rum, aged and smooth, greets you when his tongue slides between parted lips. He kisses like a dance, like a back and forth that he leads.

“Breathe,” he whispers, and you don’t have to ask why. You sense his conqueror’s haki in the air before you feel the power lick at your skin, dragging and pulling and hot. 

“Cum for me.”

Lightning quick, your tummy tightens, the pleasure centers of your brain on overload as he overtakes you. Desire boils down to your cunt like a poisonous liquid heat, unbearable, sinful, yet so, so blissful as your pussy flutters and you fall over the crest of orgasm. 

“Fuck! Oh, fuck you, fuck, fuck…” Your eyes squeeze closed as the ecstasy is literally ripped from your body, like he somehow sunk his hand inside your core and extracted all the delight he craves. 

“Doesn’t that feel good?”

You can’t help but nod, because yes, it does, as if pleasure is bursting like supernovas underneath your skin. Your hands are clinging to him, one around the back of his neck, the other beneath his shirt, like you can’t help but be closer to the source of your heat.

“Shanks, I…” your tongue is so thick in your mouth, searching for words you can’t think of.

“Now imagine just how fucking good you’ll feel when you do that on my cock.” 

“Please, oh, god, please.”

His famous laugh greets your ears and you’re almost knocked back to the reality of who has you in his grasp. 

“That’s my girl.” 

You’re in his bed before you know it, eyes glassy at the sight of his naked body. You knew he’d be beautiful, but the actual view of him, on his knees, pumping his cock in his hand while between your legs has you whining.

“What’s going on in your pretty little head? Tell me.” 

“I…want you, so badly, and I-I’m sorry for pushing you away. I never—”

He shushes you, takes his hand from his cock so he can brush the back of his finger across your cheek, “You were just doing what you thought was right. Didn’t wanna just be my plaything, did you? I know you wanted to be my strong little pirate, but you can be both.” 

“Promise?” 

“Swear it.” He grins like a little boy as he mockingly draws an X across his heart with his finger. 

How can someone so deadly be so adorable?

Your instincts are flaring again, telling you to run, that once he sinks his claws into you, you’ll only ever be his. Nothing more, nothing less. 

Maybe that doesn’t sound so bad, especially not with how good it feels when he buries his hand between your thighs, fingers playing in your wetness. 

Shanks is equal parts messy and methodical, swirling his fingers around in your slick folds before rubbing his thumb over your already sensitive clit. You cry out, back arching and nails digging so deeply in his pillows you swear you hear fabric rip.

“Think I made you wet enough to take my cock already, don’t you?” 

To prove his point, he slides his slick-drenched fingers between your lips, letting you taste yourself. You nod your affirmation as you suck against his skin, his eyes shining as you wrap your tongue around his fingers.

You eye his cock between his legs, preening at the thought of having him inside you. His cock is pretty, fat, already leaking and veins straining beneath silken skin. Red curls crawl up his toned stomach and you nearly drool around his fingers. 

All you ever wanted was to be a pirate, but the sight of your captain’s cock has you content to be a whore.

“Been dreamin’ about you in my sheets ever since I found you, darlin’. Knew you were the one for me, my perfect girl.”

“Oh please,” you gasp as he draws his fingers from your mouth, dragging them down to your tit so he can pinch your nipple, “you know what praise does to me, Shanks.”

“Of course I do,” he sing-songs, grasping his dick and pushing his tip between your folds. He presses in, a cant of his hips shoving his cock halfway into your dripping hole. Your head falls back at the stretch, cooing at the feel of him. 

Shanks is clearly done chasing you, mindset moved to capture, to take. He bottoms out and immediately starts moving, grinning as he watches your pussy lips drag along his length. 

He wolf-whistles at the sight, making you flush with a strange mixture of embarrassment and pride. “Look at that pretty fucking pussy. So slutty already for me.”

Strong fingers push your thigh back, spreading you wide as he starts his pace. 

“Now,” Shanks clicks his tongue against his teeth, “let’s see what it feels like when I make you cum around my cock.” 

“You don’t, ah,” you gasp as his cockhead prods against a soft spot, “h-have to make me, I’ll—” 

“Shh, I’ll take care of you, baby. Let me make you feel good, yeah?” 

There’s no time to think, not with how fast he acts, a simple look into your eyes has you shattering until you scream. The pleasure claws from your depths all over again, more intense now that your cunt has his fat cock to convulse around. You suck him in deep as you fall, bliss blooming over every nerve ending. Your toes curl, your nails cut into his shoulders, your stomach nearly hurts from the twisting of your orgasm. 

“God damn, you feel so fucking good when you do that, get so tight around me.” 

“Sh-Sha—mhm, fuck,” you try to protest, to say something, but the way his body moves into yours is like the mesmeric waves, lulling you into a headspace of drifting euphoria. 

He’s all over you—hand in your hair, tongue sliding down your neck, lips sucking at the fat of your tits, teeth scraping along your curves. He’s all encompassing, snaking his arm behind your back until you're pressed against his thick chest and rocking with every thrust.

The orgasms have made you numb, all you feel is pure carnality, like now you just exist to fuck and be fucked.

For a moment you wonder if he’s still forcing it on you, but you decide you don’t care. He’s the only one who can make you feel like this, haki or no.

Shanks brushes his nose down your cheek, lips hot and wet as he kisses your skin, “Touch me, baby, be with me.” 

Like puppetry, your hands trace his musculature, taking note of how his shoulders roll with every push and how his abdominal muscles stiffen whenever your cunt spasms from pleasure.

You kiss over the freckles on his shoulder, down to the thick bicep he no longer wraps in bandages. 

He groans as your lips get close to where his arm used to be, a purr from deep in his chest like you’re too close to something vulnerable.

“Gonna take from you again, darlin.’ Gotta feel your cunt suck me dry.” 

“N-no I can—I can do it, I can cum for you, promise.” 

“Mhm, where’s the fun in that when I can just make you?”

His hand snakes around your body, letting you sink into the bed free of his hold. He teases your clit just because he can, because he likes watching you wiggle and writhe and whine beneath him.

You suck in a sob, “Please, just a little more, more, and I—”

Shanks’ haki feels like the warm licks of familiar fire. He burns because you let him too close, stared too long at the flames. 

You’re sure he purposely brings the assault of his conqueror's power on slower, lets it bleed and blend with the ecstasy building from the sensitive pressure on your clit. 

This crest is bigger, fuller, like you’ve been thrown from the Red Force into the toiling dark ocean. Only it’s boiling, scorching and tugging the pleasure from deep within your belly. 

“Oh god,” you throw your head back and whine, “too hot.” 

Shanks groans deep from his chest, fingers pausing on your clit as he feels you cum around him. His thighs shake, cock twitching and throbbing. Mean fingers dig into the softness of your belly like he’s clinging to sanity, holding himself back just enough to be in control. 

“One more, baby.”

He starts thrusting again, a slow grind into your depths that has red curls kneading into your clit. You feel him in your guts, your heart, like the beat of blood in your veins. 

“C-can’t, god, can’t, please.” Please no. Please yes. You’re back in an entanglement of emotions where no way is up, the sun still so far from underneath the waves.

Shanks buries his face in your neck, red hair fanning like embers across overheated skin. 

He sucks at your pulse, flesh between his lips, “yes you can, my good girl. For me.” 

You’re slammed into a new atmosphere, floating for seconds before being dragged back down, down to where you feel details of your name whispered against your throat and the pulsing of a thick cock as ropes of cum spill into tight, gummy walls. 

“Fuuuucckk, oh g-god, Shanks, hurts, so good, shit—”

You babble until your mouth runs dry, anchored by your captain’s bruising grasp on your hip. He has you flush against his body, heavy breaths syncing as you both float up from hell.

It’s like waking up from a dream when he starts kissing you, all feather-light and reverent. He sits up and his lopsided smile seems so sincere. 

“So proud of you, really thought you were gonna pass out there for a second.” He laughs playfully, blowing a stray red hair from his face. 

All you do is whine and shift your sore hips, gasping at the feel of his cock still hard and deep inside you. 

You’re not sure how much time passes before he pops his dick out—your heart beats are too erratic to count as seconds. 

He sinks praises into your skin, kissing down your breasts, your belly, making you jerk when he kisses the mound of your pussy. 

His breath is hot on your clit. That feeling has your mind shattering like porcelain, a sharp smack centering you straight back into reality. You sit up and stare at the scene before you, sharp-eyed prey watching a predator in the forest. 

“Shanks, no, please, for the love of god—” 

“No no no no, it’s okay,” he coos from between your legs, eyes closing and head cocking to the side as he smiles, “I’m not gonna take this one from you. Promise. Gonna let you do it all by yourself, nice and slow.” 

It’s easy to forget that Shanks is a bad liar when he shoves his pretty face down to eat his cum from your pussy. 

[headspace-hotel]

re: ohio chemical disaster

OP of the post I reblogged earlier regarding this turned off reblogs (understandable have a nice day) but I got a request to put the information in its own post, so here.

First thing: PLEASE be careful about claims that "The Media" is suppressing something as part of a malicious agenda, or that an event has been purposefully manufactured by "The Media" to distract from something else.

Not only is this a really common disinformation tactic (not only urging you to share/reblog quickly, but discouraging you from fact checking), treating "The Media" as a monolithic entity with purposeful agency and a specific, malicious agenda—particularly one that manufactures events to "distract" from other events—is a red flag for conspiracy theories.

There's already a post in the tag attributing the supposed lack of media coverage to "reptilians." Please connect the dots here.

Second—"the news isn't focusing on this as much as I think they should" is not a media blackout. Every major USA news source is reporting on the Ohio train derailment. Googling returns at least 4 pages of results from major news media sources. Even just googling "Ohio" gets you plenty of results about it.

This is an unusual amount of media attention for a U.S. environmental disaster.

Because this kind of thing happens all the damn time.

The "media blackout" narrative gives the impression that this is an unusual event that isn't receiving wall to wall coverage only because it's being suppressed—when the reality is that similar disasters happen a lot, and hardly ever get the attention the Ohio disaster is getting.

Consider this example, not too far from my local area: A few years ago, almost 2,000 tons of radioactive fracking waste were illegally dumped in an Eastern Kentucky municipal landfill, directly across from a middle school. Leachate from that landfill goes into the Kentucky River, which is where most of the central part of the state gets its drinking water. As far as we know, the radioactive waste isn't leaking yet, but it could start leaking at any time.

Zero national news sources covered this. Why? If I was to hazard a guess, I would say "because it's business as usual for the fossil fuel industry."

Consider also the case of Martin County, KY, which has had foul-smelling, contaminated drinking water for decades. Former coal country in Appalachia is poisoned and toxic, and laws have little power to punish the companies that created the destruction.

What happened in Ohio is just a little window into a whole world of horrors.

The Martin County coal slurry spill that is still poisoning the water 20 years later killed literally everything in the water for miles downstream (a book Mom read said 70 miles of the Ohio river were made completely lifeless). It was 30 times larger than the Exxon-Valdez oil spill, and it was in some sense "covered up"—in the sense that the Bush administration shut down the investigation because the Republicans are buddies with the fossil fuel industry, and proceeded to relax regulations even further.

Seriously, read that wiki article to get pissed enough to eat glass.

Hopefully the Ohio chemical spill will inspire real action to institute regulations to prevent shit like this from ever happening again. It's not the end of the world. It's not radically different from what industries have been causing the whole damn time. It is pretty bad.

I would urge everyone to actually search up information about it instead of getting news from Tiktok or Twitter, because the more false information gets distributed, the less momentum any effort to respond with improved regulations and changes to prevent future disasters will have. Plenty of facts here *are* public and being publicly discussed and pretending that they're not is actively detrimental.

[peterparkersnose]

Give In

pairing: Joel Miller x reader

word count: 2.3k

warnings: suicidal thoughts, pining possibly one sided, ANGST (just a large angst piece, i wanted some joel angst so I made it), description of depression, emotional dependency on a person, arguing, fluff sprinkled in, implied age gap not specified, reference to pregnancy, mentions of substance and alcohol abuse, joel is lowkey toxic and uses reader

a/n hi loves I wrote this after the first episode aired, so if anything contradicts anything in the future in this story that is why. also, i didnt know how to end it so im sorry if the ending is a bit choppy. happy last of us sunday!

summary Y/N has feelings for Joel that she can’t control anymore

Part 2 here

masterlist

join the tag list

read time: 8 min 33 seconds

The harsh chill of the autumn afternoon swept your hair off your shoulders. The ration line was as long as ever, but seemed to be moving quickly. A stray dog barked as others murmured on the street. Staring down at your boots, you bit at your chapped lips.

“You’ve been avoiding me,”

His voice sent chills up your spine. He was behind you, must have slipped in line without the other person noticing. Of course now was the time he decided to confront you. And he wasn’t wrong.

Straightening your back, you turn towards him.

“Have I?” you asked, raising your eyebrows slightly. The line moved forward and so did you.

“Tess said you weren’t feeling well.”

She was partially right. It was the blatant lie you were telling the very few who were close to you. You were physically fine.

“I’m fine, Joel.” you said promptly, turning a cold shoulder to the older man.

“If you need any meds or anything…” he began. You knew Joel had anything you needed. Quite literally.

“Next!” The FEDRA soldier called, motioning for you to get in the final line. You gave Joel a tight lipped smile before disappearing in the crowd.

Back at your sad excuse for an apartment, you poked your fork at your stale meal. You tried to think about todays’s job but the thought of Joel Miller consumed you.

How his hands felt on your skin, how soft his hair could be, how much he respected you in private. Flashbacks of previous nights where he had snuck over and stayed with you burned in your brain.

You never thought the hookup would turn in to feelings. Especially in this world. Feelings you were sure he wouldn’t reciprocate. Joel wasn’t a very emotionally available man. And he had Tess- rumors of them being together had been going on for years. Sure, they deny it. But you see the way he looks at her sometimes. His eyes burn with the lust you want from him, but there staring at her.

Tess was friendly and all, you got along quite well with her in fact. Jobs worked with Tess usually went better than others. But the knowledge that she goes home to him every night almost ate you alive. You felt used every time you would watch her turn the alleyway to their apartment.

Roommates my ass.

It had been over a month since the last time you saw Joel.

He was right, you were avoiding him. Taking the jobs you knew he wouldn’t dare go by such as childcare. Taking a different route home to avoid any run ins. Leaving your lights off and sitting in the dark to possibly deter him away from your place. All your little queues worked.

And the pain grew day by day.

You layed in your mattress with your face buried in your pillow. It stopped smelling like him weeks ago, but you liked to pretend it still did.

You couldn’t live like this anymore.

Pills weren’t numbing enough. Alcohol wasn’t as fun as it used to be. The constant state of depression in this damned district was enough to make you want to end it.

But seeing him across the alleyway talking to a group of people or in the line for rations was enough to keep that tiny spark lit inside of you.

There wasn’t much else to look forward to in this world besides others. Living the same day your whole life is miserable without your spark of joy in it.

Sleep was close, you could feel it. Your thin blankets were just cutting it for the night. As the dreams began to dance in your head, you were awoken by a quiet knock on your door.

“For fucks sake,” you groaned, flipping over in bed. You ignored the knocks. They became more persistent.

The old doorknob then dropped to the floor, startling you awake. You didn’t even have to guess who it was. The door slowly creaked open as you heard him curse to himself.

“I’ll fix it later,” he sighed, picking it off your floor and placing it on your countertop. He pushed one of your folding chairs next to your table up against the door to keep it sturdy.

“So your just breaking into apartments now?” you snapped, sitting up right in bed. “I needed to see you.” he protested.

“I never knew Joel Miller to need anything.”

He sighed and rested against your countertop. “I need to know,”

“Know what?” you asked, wrapping a blanket around your exposed shoulders. A tank top wasn’t ideal to sleep in, in these conditions.

“What’s wrong.” he said bluntly. “I said there’s nothing wrong. What the hell are you doing walking around freely at night?” you yelled, realizing the time was way past midnight. The sounds of soldiers a few floors down outside your apartment began to yell. How did he move past them?

“You sick?” he asked in a more hushed tone, walking towards you. “Respiratory? Head pain? Joints? You pregnant?” he somewhat joked, looking over you in bed.

“Shut up.” you said coldly. “Can you please just go?”

You knew Joel wasn’t a good listener. “What is it?” he said sternly, sitting down next to your body in bed. He grabbed your wrist ever so slightly. Your pulse was shaking in his grasp.

“I don’t have to explain myself to you.”

You looked at the other side of your apartment, out the window. Rain had began to slowly plague the window. Ignoring Joel’s touch, you watched as the few drops raced to the bottom of the window.

“After everything I’ve done for you?” Joel sighed, not letting go of you.

“Stop, please. J-just stop talking to me.” you said, lying through your teeth. He could sense the pain hiding behind those eyes. “I’m not leaving.” he protested.

“Look at me.”

You turned to face him. His eyes were locked on yours. A genuine worried look was on his face. He looked softer, nothing like you had ever seen before.

It was almost as if someone asked you if you were okay when you were very obviously not. Silent tears rolled down your face as you tried to catch your breathe.

The man who you couldn’t love was staring in to your soul. There was no way you ever could love him. He was too mean, too stern, too old, too angry for you. The two of you were polar opposites. But as the saying goes, ‘opposites attract’.

Joel was unsure on what to do. Tess never cried. Hell, you never cried. He racked his brain for something, just something to soothe you.

He offered out a hand. Against your better judgement you took it. Connecting his other hand to your cheek, he tried to wipe away the streak of tears silently leaving your eyes. He held you tightly in your bed, stroking your hair as your head quickly made contact with the crook of his neck.

“I wish I didn’t have these feelings,” you cried into his embrace. Joel was confused on what you were getting at, but he ignored it. He tried to shush you in a soothing way.

“No, please. I wish I didn’t have these feelings… but I do.”

Joel froze. “What?” he asked, holding you in place.

You pulled back and looked at him. It felt like the first time over again. “Look at me and tell me you don’t feel a thing.” you hiccupped.

“I…” Joel sighed, closing his eyes for a moment and letting a breathe of air go.

“Say it.” you demanded.

The silence in the room was deafening.

“I can’t.” Joel said quickly. He looked down at his knees on your mattress.

“I think you should go.” you sighed, laying back on your side and facing the opposite wall.

He listened. Finally, Joel caught a hint. The sound of him walking away made you long for him more than ever. But it was good. The feeling of him leaving, knowing you were right. Joel Miller wasn’t a man who could love. At least not anymore.

Your sudden pride stopped when you heard his boots thud against the floor. Then the all familiar zip of his jeans followed by the hit of him placing them on your wooden chair next to your bed.

He rested a hand on your thigh as he peeled up the blanket that was stuck to your legs. Slowly, he moved down next to you in the tiny space you were leaving him.

“You don’t listen.” you huffed, still not giving him enough space on the bed.

“When do I ever?” he chuckled, wrapping his arm around your waist.

Fuck it. You gave in.

You allowed his arm to move closer to the underside of your breasts. Scooting over in bed, you gave him more space for his legs to entwine with you. His boxer’s material rubbed against the back of your thigh. It smelt like him; Wet grass and expired generic soap scent had never smelt better.

Sleep kindly greeted you once you felt his breathing slow. Trying to match his, you fell into the deep sleep you had been yearning for, for what seemed like weeks.

-

The absence in the morning was startling.

You struggled to move, hoping that the previous night was just a horrifying dream. A sigh escaped from your lips when you saw his boots sitting against the wall where he placed them last night.

The clanking sound of tools made you turn. On the other side of your small studio apartment, there he sat at your doorframe attempting to fix your door handle.

The overcast sky stayed, but you could tell it was early morning by the chatter outside.

“Shit!” Joel hissed, grabbing his finger in pain. “Damn fucking…”

He looked up and noticed you watching him.

“You alright?” you asked, watching him in amusement as he attempted to fix your door.

“Yeah,” he mumbled, sucking the tip of his finger. “Haven’t fixed a door in a good twenty years.” he muttered, wiping off the excess blood on his already dirtied jeans.

“Go back to bed, It’s still early.” he suggested, going through the tiny tool kit he had given you as a previous gift.

“This is more entertaining than sleep,” you chuckled, placing your feet on the cold ground and getting out of bed. “You want any breakfast? I don’t know if I have anything good here but…”

“Nah. Tess’l be expecting me.”

The sheer thought of Tess waiting at their home for him was enough to ruin the whole night you had before.

Joel looked up to you after your lack of a response. He noticed the demeanor change in your face. “Everything okay?” he asked, turning back to the doorknob he was almost finished fixing.

“You seem to go sour every time I mention Tess.”

“I wonder why,” you muttered under your breathe, attempting to open a tuna can for breakfast. You tried not to dry heave as the scent of the old fish met your nose. Tuna was never a favorite meal, especially for breakfast. But, it’s all you had.

Joel pretended like he didn’t hear you, but he heard you loud and clear. “We have a run to do today. You understand that, right?”

A bitter ‘mhm’ came from your lips as you shook the prepackaged coffee in your hand before ripping off the seal.

Joel sighed and placed the screw driver down dramatically. Joel’s knees cracked as he got up from his position. “You always gotta fucking act jealous. Don’t you? Ruinin’ a nice morning.”

“Jealous?” you said, raising your voice.

“What the hell do you even want from me?” you scorned, on the brink of tears. He could see through you like glass. You hated to admit it, but he knew you like the back of his hand.

Joel wished he could shout out the answer, but his ego kept it in.

You froze with your back turned to him and set down the brittle coffee mug. “Your always leaving me to go to her…”

“Because we’re business partners, Y/N. Don’t you get it? Don’t you hate livin’ the same damn day over and over again? It’s why I come to see you.”

“Stop,” you whispered, now face to face with him. “Stop yelling. Please, it’s too fucking early to get into that shit.”

“Really? Tell me you don’t loose your mind living the same day, same drama for years!” he yelled. “Always you being jealous. Don’t you ever get sick of it?”

Anger consumed you. Proof that the two of you would never work. He’s just a bitter old man.

“You know I would give anything to leave this damn QZ! To live a normal life, not fucking be here.” you yelled, with a finger now pointed at his face. You were avoiding the original accusation. Jealousy.

“Tell me.” you said, with a quieter but angrier tone. “Am I really just your fuck toy?”

Joel stepped back for a moment, stunned at what you just said. Guilt seemed to wrack his nerves as the realization hit him.

You were in love with him.

“Is that what you think?” he asked, approaching you with a sorrowful more soft look. “What else am I supposed to think? You come here, use me, and leave and go back to her.”

The feeling of letting go of all that emotion felt healing. The sudden aftermath of realizing what you just had accused him of made you feel somewhat guilty.

“No,” he sighed, grabbing your hand. “That- no. Absolutely not Y/N.”

His other hand reached for your chin, and brought your face up to his gaze. You could feel his heat on your skin.

“Understand…” he began to say. “Understand what?” you whispered back. A sly smile came to his lips.

“Give in,” he whispered, dropping your hand and wrapping his around your waist.

You melted into his grasp as he kissed you. Joel hadn’t kissed anyone in years. The hesitation from him only brought out the dominance in you.

As the two of you mutually pulled away, you wanted nothing more as to be back where you were just seconds ago.

“Understand that it’s hard.” he said, still holding you close. “I…”

“I know.” you said, cutting off his words.

You were an anxious, sorrowful over-thinker and he was the bitter, closed off introvert.

“I’ll be back,” he said, with a slighter more chipper tone. “Tonight. We have to get this damn car battery and…”

“Stay safe,”

“I promise.” Joel said. He really did not want to leave you. The thought of the two of you spending today lazily in bed was very tempting.

“But please believe me Y/N when I say, you are and never have been just a ‘fuck toy’.”

He squeezed your hand once more and then dropped it. Silence filled the apartment after he left.

The thought of how you tasted haunted Joel Miller’s mind the whole day.

Part 2

tag list: @dani5216 @uwiuwi @alohastyles-x @samanthacookieone @maddieinnit0 @alexxavicry @scoliobean @avengersfan25

[thebreakfastgenie]

This is what Vietnam War discourse would actually look like if there was tumblr in the 60s/70s:

That scene in Mad Men where Glenn tells Sally if he doesn't go to Vietnam some poor Black kid will get drafted instead

Draft dodging privilege

Failing the draft board physical on purpose is ableist

Trying to get a psychological deferment is ablesit/sanist

Pretending to be gay to dodge the draft is homophobic

If you're pretending to be gay to dodge the draft you can reclaim slurs

Trigger tags for topics related to Vietnam because it might trigger veterans, people getting screamed at for not using them, discourse about whether they're racist

Can Asian Americans reclaim "Charlie?" (Yes. No. Only if you're Vietnamese. Only if you're literally a member of the Vietcong.)

Lists of celebrities that are canceled for supporting Vietnam ranging from people who actually support the war to people who shared a post about supporting families of POWs

Someone posts about being happy their POW cousin got released, gets anon hate for supporting the war

Excuses not to boycott Dow Chemical, "there is no ethical consumption under capitalism"

Women and people of color get anon hate for talking about misogyny and racism in the anti-war movement

Women shouldn't go to college/law school/med school/grad school because men need those slots so they can get a deferment

The draft proves misandry is real

Anti-electoral leftists opposing the 26th amendment because both sides are the same

"Voting for LBJ is the lesser of two evils!!!!"

"At least Barry Goldwater wanted to end the forever war in Vietnam!"

The students murdered at Kent State get "canceled" for failing some moral purity test

Post about how Jackson State got less attention than Kent State because the students were Black which is actually but in the most bad faith, accusatory tone possible

Feminism and Civil Rights are distractions

Black bloggers get hate for publicly mourning MLK because "thousands are killed in Vietnam every day!!!!"

White American mixes up Vietnam, Cambodia, and Laos because they don't know they're three separate countries

Working class people support the war so opposing it is classist actually

"The movement isn't about your fave I hate stan culture!!!!!"

[weirdsht]

Disillusioned 6 . Truth

a/n: i think my blood count is running low again so i might not be able to write for a while but idk yet. also my class schedule is literally from 9 am to 7 pm so i don't really know when i'll be able to write 🥲

tags: abuse as the norm, reader doesn't know better. unintentional self-harm(?), hints of power tripping

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are currently closed but my ask are still open (read navi)

Buy Me Dessert

Navigation Masterlist prev . next

On doesn’t know how to tell Cale about the things she found out.

Well, it’s not a matter of her hesitating to tell him. There’s no way On would hesitate to tell Cale, someone she has come to see as her parental figure, such important information. Rather, it's the timing of things that made her hesitate every time.

From the moment Cale woke up things have been hectic. There are changes to their schedule and a lot more things to do. Especially now that they managed to capture some of Arm’s members.

With everyone busy running around here and there, On took it upon herself to make sure _____ doesn’t get injured.

The silver kitten can’t fully comprehend why someone would offer their all for other people to the point of being on the brink of death. Saving people is good, but one should not overdo it. After all, being alive is the best thing as Cale had taught her.

Well, Cale is also self-sacrificial but that's On’s headache for another day.

For now, she focuses on limiting the healer to use their healing abilities as much as possible and trying to find the chance to tell Cale the issue.

“Don’t worry, it's dangerous but not dangerous as in you will get hurt dangerous.”

If Cale looked at her funnily then On pretended not to notice. The important thing is she finally managed to tell him that they must talk about _____’s powers. Since the redhead must first go and attend some business, On opted to just give Cale a snippet and continue it after they get back.

And so that night, after having dinner with the cute half-rat half-dwarf Mueller, Cale and On finally had their overdue talk.

Aside from them and the other two children, Choi Han, Beacrox, and Ron are also in the room to listen in. 

“If that’s the case then chances are _____-nim’s healing abilities work like a transfer.”

Silence filled the room at Choi Han’s comment. All of them are thinking about how to confirm such things.

“We can just talk to _____ themself! They’re super nice so I’m sure they’ll tell us.”

“But maybe that will be uncomfortable for little _____”

Raon shut down Hong’s suggestion. However, Cale thinks it’s a good idea.

“It’s not like we have much option, we either ask them directly or sneak around to see evidence while they are using their power.”

And safe to say that Cale wants to choose the less hassle option, asking _____ directly.

After scamming– selling the research remains of the Magic Tower to Toonka and talking to Choi Han, Cale managed to squeeze talking to _____ in his schedule.

While the swordmaster was out to get the healer, Cale felt a sense of dread. He suddenly thought of how _____ never seems to share their story. This makes him think about the chance that maybe the healer is simply unwilling to share the information.

He may be trash but he's not a jerk who will force someone to share their story if it will resurface their trauma.

“So you have no problem telling me? Why haven’t you said anything until now?”

Turns out, _____ is more than okay sharing everything with Cale. They stated that whatever it is Cale needed to know, they are willing to share as long as they know of it.

“It’s because Cale-sunbae has never asked me? They say that if someone of my status shares something personal unprompted then it will be burdensome for the other party. It is also bad to speak unprompted, they said that it’s bad enough that punishment is due when such a misdemeanour is committed.”

Cale Henituse has a pretty good idea as to who that “they” is but he internalizes his anger and decides to focus on the task at hand. He motions for _____ to continue speaking.

“Cale-sunbae, I’m sure you’ve heard of how I got adopted?”

“Yes, what about that story?”

“That story is a lie. Why they lied about it is something I am unsure of.

I was originally from an orphanage. This orphanage is different because they sell gifted children, the children vary from beast children to children with special abilities like me.”

‘Sounds more like a human trafficking scheme, but I can't be sure.’

Cale thought to himself as he listened to _____ talk.

“I have been adopted because the Perduellios were on the verge of going bankrupt. They decided to adopt a child with special abilities so they could maximize the wealth and glory that comes with it. It is also the real reason why I am not affiliated with the Sun God church. However, it is also true that my health would not be able to handle the workload of being a holy maiden”

If _____ is officially affiliated with the church then they would essentially be a property of the church. Minimizing the profits the family can get.

“There’s also the fact that they said I would humiliate the family if I’m not under their supervision- Ah, I’m sorry! I just realized that I’m getting off-track”

“No, continue. I’m quite curious as to how that family raised you.”

Did what Cale said surprised him? Definitely. He is usually someone who does not actively seek out such things as it brings more headaches.

But oh well, _____ is one of his people anyway so it wouldn’t hurt to know about their enemies. Even if the healer isn't aware they are enemies.

“How was I raised? I was raised normally, just like how other people have been. The Perduellios gave me food, clothing, and a roof over my head. I think they were a little strict with me but they said it was because there are so many things I have to learn.”

“Strict how?”

“Instead of tutors and teachers, they used more physical ways to teach me. They said it was a little unconventional but the only way I would learn things fast.

They had a lot of unspoken rules that I had to follow. They said that usually, a child will gradually learn what those rules are as they grow up. However, they opted to punish me for every rule I broke as I am behind my peers.”

‘What a load of bullshit. That’s not normal at all.’

Cale internally sighed before asking what kind of punishment they got. _____ explained that it’s either being whipped or having hot candle wax poured on their skin, whatever the family’s biological child deemed fitting at the moment.

The healer was asked if they figured out what some of those rules were and they said they had.

They are not allowed to speak when not spoken to

They must always answer when spoken to

They must never speak to other nobles as they are a peasant

They are not allowed to have servants and must never ask any servant for help (this was why they never bothered Hans, Ron, and Beacrox)

They are not allowed to go somewhere without guards

They must only take what their adoptive family gives to them

They must refer to their adoptive family as father, mother, and big sister outside, but must call them call them by their noble titles in private

All gifts given to them must go to the family

They are not allowed to refuse to heal anyone, the only exceptions are if it's beyond their capabilities (like chronic illness)

When they heal someone the family must be informed. 

They said that there was more that they did not figure out. However, Cale thinks that all of this is just a bunch of bullshit excuses used to hurt and exploit a child that didn't know better. Then as a result, even as an adult that person still doesn't know any better.

“Human! This is not normal! Little _____ has been deceived by those trash people! You better get revenge on them too!”

Both Cale and Raon are on the same page. Even before the dragon’s comment, Cale was already thinking about what he could do about _____’s family.

However, there was another thing that concerned the redhead.

It was the way _____ was telling the story.

Aside from the usual calmness they had, they were speaking as though it wasn't their story. It was as if they were just relaying the morning news.

To some extent, Cale thinks it's advantageous for the healer to be able to separate themselves from what happened. Even if they aren't aware that what they went through was abuse.

However, it wasn't like that.

It was more like _____ has become detached from things relating to themself.

Cale would even dare say that maybe it's because they are scared to face the hurt and longing they felt.

Not that the man is speaking from experience.

“How come you had no marks on your body? Even at the City of Life the only ones the doctor saw were the wounds you had that day.”

“Ah, that is part of my abilities. Even though I can’t heal myself, my body heals wounds a little faster than average and is incapable of scarring.”

‘This… just how lucky were those bastards that they even had the perfect cover-up?’

While Cale was thinking about how to make the Perduellios disappear from the face of the world, _____ further explained how their healing powers work.

“For my healing abilities, a percentage of my patients' wounds or sickness will transfer onto me. Ah don’t worry as I will only get around 70% of whatever I am healing and it will not be contagious whatever it may be. In return, I can give them some of my vitality. I say I give around 3% of my vitality per patient and then it is multiplied when I transfer it to them.”

Cale swallows the curse words he wants to say. He feels immense frustration at the person who seems to be more concerned at the possibility of Cale thinking they’ll get the entire group sick, and not at the fact that they’re giving their health away to random strangers.

“Uhm you might be thinking that the vitality thing is the reason why I have a weak body but it's not. Apparently, I was just unlucky and happened to have a body this weak.”

Huuuu

The redhead feels as though he will curse a storm if he doesn’t at least sigh.

“Because of how my abilities work, the more severely wounded or sick someone is, the harder it will be for me to heal them. Things like small scratches or common colds would not hurt but more severe wounds might have dire consequences on my body. That’s why I can’t heal severed limbs or terminal illnesses.”

The Medicus proceeds to explain that in theory, they can heal those things. However, it might cost them some part of the same limb or their lifespan as well as some manifestations of the illness.

“Human, let's not make little _____ heal anyone! That power is dangerous for them!”

Cale agrees with the dragon to some extent. But he also thinks that they can still use it as long as it’s in moderation.

“Hmm, I guess in theory I might also be able to revive a dead person once if I get to them right after they die. Though I think I’d have a week left to live if I did that. I haven’t tested it out yet so I’m not sure…”

Cale did not need to know that. There's absolutely no way he'll let this healer revive someone from the dead at the cost of their own life.

“...Don’t. No testing out any of those things. No testing out healing terminally ill people. The same goes for people with severe or paralyzed limbs. Just don’t okay?”

_____ doesn’t quite understand Cale’s requests but agrees nonetheless. The redhead is their benefactor so it would only be right to follow his wishes even if they don't understand why he would make such requests.

What the healer didn’t notice was the way the noble’s face hardened for a second when they were talking about reviving a dead person.

Cale is definitely going to keep a closer eye on them.

Maybe even ask Hillsman to be their personal knight…

No, never mind. _____ already grew up suffocated by the amount of guards they had following them. Cale isn't evil enough to recreate that.

So maybe he'll just make sure the healer doesn't leave his side?

“As for my ancient power, you already know that it’s a water-type power. I can look at someone’s “blood flow” to roughly figure out how strong and what species they are. As to how I accurately know the species of what I'm looking at, the owner of the power tells me. He was also the one who told me to hide my power from everyone. He doesn't speak much, he just tells me what someone is when I ask for it or when he feels like it.

Another thing it does is allow me to sense any living creatures in water. This is as long as we are touching the same water as what happened when I first met Raon Miru-nim.

It also allows me to replenish someone’s energy and stamina. However, I can’t do anything about hunger. Fainting is something I can prevent, but Cale-sunbae’s condition is special as you pass out because of your abilities so I can’t interfere with that. I’m sorry.”

They looked really sorry for not being able to prevent Cale from passing out. A big part of why they can’t interfere is because if they do then they will be breaking the ancient power’s flow of work.

“Last question.”

Cale feels like he knows the answer but he still wants to hear _____’s perspective.

“Why do you still insist on giving your all for people who will never appreciate what you do?”

It’s a foreign question for the healer. Something no one has asked before. 

Something they didn’t even think about.

Even before they were adopted they have always been draining themself for others. The motion of offering themself up to others is as natural as a fish looking for water.

It didn’t matter if they were unloved or unwanted.

In fact, _____ knew in the back of their mind that no one loved them.

“I am both unwanted or unneeded. Then isn’t it only right that I present myself to be used until nothing is left of me?”

That was the conclusion they had come to.

Their life would have no meaning if they didn’t let others use them. Maybe there is, but _____ doesn’t know what could it be. Already so used to their current way of living.

“I understand now.”

That was all that Cale said to _____’s explanation of their powers. He told the healer to go back to their tent and rest.

As soon as it was just him and Raon in the room, Cale roughly rubbed his hands through his face.

Cale summarized in his head that in a way _____'s ability wasn't really healing but more like transferring. They multiply and transfer their vitality to make someone better.

The ability itself was easy to understand. Setting up measures to make sure _____ doesn’t overdo it is also easy.

However, Cale Henituse still feels frustrated.

And he can’t quite fathom why he feels that way.

[morning-star-joy]

with your boots beneath my bed; forever is the sweetest con

a stranger's heart without a home chapter 20

Pairing: friends with benefits Joel x F!Reader, Post-Outbreak

Chapter Summary: The holidays arrive in Jackson, and you cherish your time spent with your loved ones.

Chapter Warnings/Tags: Explicit Smut (18+ Only MDNI) unprotected p in v sex, creampie, praise kink. Mutual Pining (resolved), Language (fucking is an adjective).

A/N: I won't make this too long, but holy fucking shit you guys. It's here. We did it. There's still the epilogue left, and many more stories to be told from this one, but thank you guys so much for all the love you've shown to this fic that I hold so dear.

Wordcount: 13.6k

chapter 1 || chapter 19 || chapter 20 || masterlist

ao3 link

You were, for all intents and purposes, fucked.

Fucked in quite the literal sense of the word, hardly spending a night where you weren’t in Joel’s bed, or he in yours.

Fucked in the way that you woke up each morning completely wrapped up in him, not knowing a part of yourselves that wasn’t intertwined, or an inch of your soul that wasn’t now marked by him.

Fucked in how the first thing he would do when he woke up would be to turn over, breaking your hold on him from behind to smile lazily at you, brighter than the sunlight that filtered through the windows to dance across his face.

Slowly, you came to know each line etched on his face, each wrinkle and scar as your eyes traced them every morning. Old and weathered, tired and weary, but so achingly familiar to you now that you couldn’t imagine waking up without it.

But you think your favorite thing to do, the thing that fucked you the most, was faking sleep just so you could count his breaths until he awoke. Focusing on keeping your eyes closed, your own breathing deep and even, you would pretend to be unaware of Joel’s fingers as they lightly traced your own face, memorizing you the same way you did him when he thought you weren’t aware.

It was always a gentle, featherlight touch. Hardly even there, but you felt it.

You knew. 

And it made you ache so deeply, so completely, your heart racing underneath your bare skin as he caressed your cheek before pulling his hand away from you. You would listen to the sheets shift as he turned onto his back and waited for you to open your eyes.

When you did eventually open your eyes, faking a yawn before focusing on the side of his hardened, devastatingly handsome face with a smile, and he would smile back at you with just a glint of something knowing in his eyes, you wondered if he had actually been in on this little secret of yours all along.

Yeah, completely fucked.

One morning, you really did wake up after him, stretching your limbs across the bed, legs bumping against his as you rolled over onto your other side. At your motion, you heard the mattress shift behind you before you felt Joel’s hands slide up your curves and around your waist, pulling you back into him at the same moment his face buried into your neck.

You hummed, feeling your body wake up to him before your mind did, pressing your ass back into where you could feel his hardening dick poking against your thighs.

That hum quickly turned into a light, breathless moan as Joel’s thick fingers spread across your stomach, inching lower and lower until they were gliding across your folds, taking his time caressing you gently, teasing you with each pass over your clit until you were squirming, begging him for more in a delirious half-asleep state.

Only then did his thumb find your clit, rubbing slow, steady circles across it until you were shaking from the gentle warmth of an orgasm he coaxed out of you when his fingers slipped into you. That climax was followed by another, and another, as Joel continued to simply revere in the moment, leisurely dissolving you into a mewling, moaning mess in a way that only he knew how.

You were so fucked out, mouth agape with pleasure as you panted against the pillow, that the familiar stretch of his cock sliding into you pulled a broken, strangled cry from your throat.

Joel stopped instantly, hand spreading across your stomach in a gentle manner that assured you of his warmth, his comfort, as his mouth found your ear from where he was still pressed to you from behind.

“You okay?” he whispered, and you shivered at the intimacy, biting your lip as you grabbed the pillow. “Do you—”

“Gimme—” you gasped, eyes rolling back into your head as you fell back into him, melting into his embrace as you adjusted to the feeling of him partially inside of you, giving a nod once you were ready and aching for more. “Good. I’m good.”

Joel still took another moment, his lips pressing a gentle kiss on a sensitive spot behind your ear, and you shivered as the action sent butterflies racing through your stomach. You didn’t have a moment to ponder on those feelings he always managed to stir from you, more and more lately, as he slid the rest of the way in until his cock was fully seated inside of you.

You bit your lip harder, forcing yourself to keep quiet so you could hear every catch of his breath, every quiet moan and toe-curling whimper that left his lips as he began to fuck into you. His thrusts were slow, lazy, just enjoying the feeling of being inside you first thing in the morning. 

Joel’s forehead pressed to your shoulder as he began to groan and whimper louder, unabashed, too lost in the heady atmosphere of the early morning coupled with the feeling of your cunt surrounding him, warming and fulfilling him in the best way.

When words began to pour from his lips, they finally drew sounds from you, your own whining and whimpering as you began to roll your hips back against him, ready for another orgasm. At your movement, Joel’s hand on your stomach that was holding you steady snaked back down between your thighs, playing with your clit as your head tipped back and you gasped from the build of another orgasm, having lost count of how many he had given you that morning.

“Fuck, I wish I could fill you up,” were the nearly incoherent words that came tumbling from his lips, and you moaned, loud and desperate, moving faster to meet both his thrusts from behind you and his fingers in front of you, trapped between him in the best possible way, as he quickly tugged you forward to dangle over the edge of ecstasy. “You’d look so good full of me.”

Joel continued to pant and groan, his face pressed against the side of yours, breath warming your cheek as you reached behind you to grab his hair, keeping him there as the sentiment he had never dared to speak aloud shot straight to your throbbing clit underneath his fingers. “I wanna see my cum dripping from your pussy and down your legs, wanna see you—Jesus. ”

“Please.”

The word slipped from your lips before you could even think better of it. Still lost in the state between carnal pleasure and being asleep, helpless to the peaks of ecstasy he kept delivering to you, you began to beg for the very thing you both knew you could never do. 

He whispered your name then—a plea, a warning.

“Joel, please,” you whimpered, feeling his hips stuttering, knowing what was about to happen and oh god, oh fuck, somewhere in the back of your mind you knew you shouldn’t but it would feel so good, so fucking good to have his cum filling you up and oh Jesus you were about to cum again, you were—

He stopped.

“We—” he gasped, and the feeling of him still hard inside of you with no additional warmth served as a sign that he hadn’t released yet. 

You were nearly crying now, both from the intense pleasure and from him stopping, even as you knew he had done the right thing, so you could both gather yourselves enough to slip out of the delicious sleepy haze you were in and not fuck yourselves over—quite literally. 

“We can’t,” Joel whispered, lips brushing against your cheek in what was almost a chaste kiss if it wasn’t open-mouthed, his tongue flicking out to taste the salt of sweat on your skin. He rested his lips there and murmured against your skin, sounding more like he was speaking to himself than to you, “We can’t.”

“I know,” you panted, fingers tangling in his curls, keeping his face pressed to your cheek as you repeated yourself the same way he just did. “I know.”

Joel found enough self-control then to fuck you just enough so you could cum again—more, just give me one more, mi luna—before he pulled out of you, and you listened to the sounds of his grunting from where his face was still pressed to the side of yours, his facial hair scraping pleasantly against your skin, feeling the warmth of his cum as it coated your back when he finally found release.

You didn’t acknowledge the fleeting desire for him to cum inside you—a longing you had both felt—after that other than a breathless joke from you as he finally lifted his head, “Fuck the lack of contraceptives in the apocalypse.”

The words earned a quiet, shaky laugh from Joel before he found enough strength to push himself from the bed so he could get ready for your aftercare. 

And that was that. Just another easy, warm morning that you were getting far too used to.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew that now that you had found a spot in his bed, you would never leave.

Outside of the comfort of your lazy early mornings in bed with Joel, December arrived in Jackson, bringing the deep chill of winter right to your doorstep.

Just a year ago, you had nearly despised this time of year. The holidays were a reminder of how much you had suffered, bringing to the front of your mind the indescribable grief of everything you had lost in life.

Now you could walk the streets without hating the sense of cheer you felt lingering around every corner. You would watch the children spinning and playing in the first snowfall of the season with a fond smile, cherishing the memories they brought to mind of those days when you and your sister would build small snowmen in the Seattle QZ.

Surely they were destroyed by FEDRA soldiers on patrol when the next morning rolled around. But you had been content to create something, to leave your tiny mark on the world with her. Even if its existence was only for a small moment, just one blink of finite happiness in infinite time.

It also seemed that you were content to create more small moments of happiness this winter.

Inside the warmth and safety of your best friend’s home one afternoon, you were blinking at him in surprise, no small amount of skepticism in your voice as you repeated what he had just told you.

“A Secret Santa party?”

“Yup!” Tommy grinned, giving a nod to emphasize his confirmation as he leaned back on the couch next to you.

“Jesus Christ,” you groaned, rubbing your hands down over your face, though your words were more teasing than truly exasperated as you asked, “Why are you so obsessed with these parties?”

“Besides the fact that they’re fun? Sorry if you’ve never heard of it,” he teased you right back, leaning over to gently nudge you in the shoulder with his own. “Actually, the holiday party was Maria’s idea.”

“But the Secret Santa part was yours,” you replied simply, not needing to hear it from him to know that it was the truth.

Still, you dropped your hands from your face to look at his own, satisfied by how you could see that you were right, just judging by the proud grin that brightened up his whole face as he talked of the idea.

“So why am I here, then?” you asked with a sigh, arching an inquisitive brow as your eyes narrowed at him in playful suspicion. “You are not having it at my house.”

Tommy waved off the little bit of concern that was hidden in your joke, and you relaxed only minutely before he reached over the armrest of the sofa and grabbed something off the ground before holding it out towards you.

You stared down at the hat filled with tiny scraps of paper with a gentle scoff before asking, “Damn, Tommy, how many people are you even inviting to this thing?”

“Not too many,” he answered with a shrug, holding out the hat further, trying to tempt you to take one and find out who you were getting a gift for at this party. “Patrolmen, mainly. The teens. A few other people.”

“Then why are there so many—”

“Just grab one!” he interrupted you, shaking the papers around in the hat before nearly shoving it in your face, and you gave an over-exaggerated groan before snatching one.

You fell silent then, staring down at the name written on the small scrap after you unfolded it, your heart racing just at the familiar shape of the letters before you narrowed your eyes up at your friend.

His lips were twitching, a telltale sign he was holding back a smile as his eyes glimmered with a well known mirth, and you lifted a finger to point at him accusingly.

“Do all of these fucking little papers of yours say Joel?”

“Oh, you got Joel?” Tommy brightened as that grin finally broke through onto his face, and you glared at him as you tried to grab for the hat to see if your theory was correct right as he pulled it out of your reach. “No, you don’t! You’ll ruin the holiday magic!”

“Fuck your holiday magic, asshole!” you snapped, still trying to grab the hat as he continued to hold it out of your reach, but it didn’t take long for your laughter to join his cheerful chuckling, even as you added, “You tricked me!”

But you couldn’t stop laughing now, even as you began to wonder just what you had allowed your closest friend to get you into this time.

It was a question you continued to think about later that night, curled up under your blankets as you tried to warm yourself up from the chilly air inside your home at this time of year.

Head against the pillow, you ran through ideas of what to get Joel for a gift, all while also trying not to wonder why he had been so late coming over every night the past week. You were startled to realize that you had almost forgotten what it was like not to see his face as not only the last thing before you fell asleep, but also the first thing when you woke up.

Trying to fall asleep alone now felt like a lost cause, and you only relaxed when you heard the sound of your back door creaking open from down the hallway. Shifting slightly, you listened with growing anticipation to the footsteps echoing through your kitchen, down the hall and towards your open bedroom door.

Hiding a smile against your pillowcase, the confusing stirring of emotions in your chest began to calm when you felt the bed dip underneath his weight, listening to the sound of him pulling his boots off to fall onto the floor, followed by the rustling of his clothes before Joel slipped under the sheets beside you.

You gave it a few moments, letting him settle before you turned over, inching closer to him in a pretend haze of sleep. When you were close enough to feel his body heat radiating towards you, you couldn’t resist taking it one step further, wrapping your arm around his torso as your cheek pressed against his back.

Just because it’s cold, you continued to blatantly lie to yourself, just like you did every time you found yourself wrapping your arms around him when you were in bed like this. He’s warm, and it’s cold. That’s it.

When Joel’s hand found yours from where it had subconsciously rested against the scars on his abdomen, his fingers intertwined with yours sending your heart racing and chest aching, your entire body shivering at the quiet intimacy of the action, you knew that it had fucking nothing to do with the cold.

“Warm,” you found yourself mumbling anyway, curling yourself around him even more, legs tangling with his as you sighed softly, a sound that was followed by his own quiet hum while you continued to ramble, “You’re warm.”

“You’re fucking cold,” Joel muttered, and you laughed softly, listening with fondness as his own quiet chuckle echoed your amusement.

“And whose fault is that?”

The teasing words slipped from your lips before you could stop them, and you froze up from uncertainty at the sentiment, self-conscious that you had let him know that you had been missing him.

Because, fuck, you had been missing him.

Hardly even a few weeks since you had truly started sharing your bed with him, and just a few days without him in it left you aching to see him again. Aching for him.

Joel shifted in your arms, turning over to face you, and you kept your face stubbornly turned away from him, even as your heart skipped a beat feeling him so close to you now.

“Should I fix that?” he murmured in a low, husky tone that only meant one thing, and you shivered for an entirely different reason than the winter chill as his arms looped around you.

One of his hands slipped under your oversized shirt you wore for sleep, sliding up your back to pull your body against his. You couldn’t resist a quiet moan just from the feeling of him pressed to you, soaking in his warmth as he rolled you over onto your back.

God, the feeling of Joel’s solid weight on top of you was always fucking delicious, and you were helpless but to melt into him as he began to kiss down your neck, his lips followed by gentle nips of teeth and his tongue darting out to soothe whatever marks he was leaving on your skin.

“People will see,” you tried to protest, even though you found yourself hardly caring in that moment when he shifted his hips, pressing his hardening erection right against your clothed cunt.

“Let them,” he whispered into your ear, and you whimpered, fingers sliding up his neck to tangle in his hair, giving it a tug just to hear that grunt of desire from him that never failed to make your panties damp with your own desire.

It didn’t take long before you were both naked, limbs completely tangled, wrapped up in each other as Joel took his sweet time fucking you that night. His hands never stopped caressing you, and you didn’t stop touching him either, fingers dancing across every inch of his skin, revering in his warmth as he thrusted into you, so slowly that it was almost lazy.

“God, so fucking hot,” Joel grunted into your ear, thumbs pressing to your inner thighs as he gripped your hips, holding you steady as he continued to fuck you languidly, almost sensually. “You feel so hot around me, darlin’. So tight and wet. Never gonna get tired of being inside you. Fuck.”

“Faster,” you begged as the slow, dwindling build of pleasure became too much, desperate for a release as you rolled your hips to meet his thrusts, and Joel groaned as he assented to your request without a second thought.

Your gasps joined the sound of skin slapping against skin, filling the air that was quickly heating up around you. You grabbed Joel's back, nails digging into his skin, and he moaned, forehead falling against your pillow next to your head, his panting right next to your ear making your clit throb.

“Need your fingers, Joel, I need—”

The words tumbling from your mouth quickly turned into a cry of pleasure as Joel lifted his hips just enough to snake one hand in between you, rubbing his thumb over your clit so quickly that your thighs began to shake, back arching up into his body as it only took a few more minutes before you were moaning his name over and over through an orgasm.

It seemed he couldn’t hold on long afterwards as he was soon moaning your own name, his lips pressed to your ear when he pulled out, pumping his cock as his hot cum landed on your lower stomach and trembling thighs.

You shivered at the sound of your name leaving his lips in the heights of pleasure, fingers still tangled in his hair as he struggled to hold himself above you, both your chests heaving in pants from the exertion.

“Warm now?” Joel asked, bumping his nose against your cheek, and you laughed breathlessly, but for an entirely different reason than from the sex as the action sent butterflies you had only ever felt around him fluttering through your stomach once again.

“Mhm,” you hummed, giving a lazy nod and a quiet sigh of relief from how truly warm you felt all over, physically and emotionally, sinking back into the mattress as he finally slipped out of bed to get ready for your aftercare. 

After he was done cleaning you up, and he climbed back into bed, you found yourself in the rare circumstance where Joel was the big spoon, his arms circling around your waist as his face buried in your neck.

It was borderline affectionate, and those goddamn butterflies started up in your stomach again, eyelids growing heavy with the overwhelming comfort of Joel completely surrounding you, holding you securely in his arms before you heard him say something.

“Hm?” you hummed, blinking a few times to try and wake yourself back up.

Joel chuckled quietly, his nose pressing underneath your jaw as he repeated himself, “You never told me about your secret hobbies.”

A surprised laugh left you, eyes still shut from relaxation, but not as tired as before as you considered the words. “Where did that come from?”

“I don’t know,” he mumbled, still rubbing the slope of that strong, handsome nose along the edge of your jawline, and you sighed quietly, happily. “I just want to know you.”

Your heart skipped a beat, a breath stuttering from your lungs in the same moment your eyes snapped open, suddenly wide awake at the vulnerable sentiment because, fuck.

You had known for a while that you wanted Joel to know you, all of you, but the fact that he wanted to know you in that way too…

Swallowing thickly, you didn’t even think twice before whispering, “Photography.”

Joel paused in his gentle ministrations of nuzzling his face against your skin, stilling for a moment before replying softly, “Really?”

“Yeah,” you sighed, feeling your cheeks heat as you once again found yourself sharing a fact about yourself with Joel that nobody else knew. “Back in Seattle, I had an instant camera. God, I spent so much time just searching for film for that thing.”

“I haven’t noticed your photos,” he said quietly, the first time he had remarked on how empty your home was in terms of decorations, and you frowned.

“There wasn’t room to take much with us when we joined the Fireflies,” you whispered, and Joel’s arms tightened around your waist, holding you closer at the mention of the rebel group. “I only took a couple things with me. Things that wouldn’t take up much space.”

Joel hummed, and your eyes fluttered shut as you felt the rumble of the gentle sound from where his chest was pressed to your back. 

Sighing softly, you allowed sleep to begin to creep up on you once more, hardly hearing as Joel asked another question, “Would you ever go back?”

“To Seattle?” you mumbled, yawning before you buried your face deeper into your pillow, breaths evening out even as you managed to reply, “Don’t need to. Got everything I need here.”

If Joel said anything else after that, you were already asleep before you could hear it.

You stood awkwardly at the edge of the room, feeling as guilty as a sinner in a house of worship.

Because, well, you currently were a sinner in a house of worship.

Most times, you tended to avoid the church in Jackson—in fact, the only time you could really remember actually spending time in the large room was for the Halloween dance.

But you weren’t standing here now, surrounded by prayers of the faithful being whispered to higher powers, for yourself.

Even though she had asked you to go with her, you didn’t want to intrude on Dina’s moment of peaceful remembrance. You didn’t know the first thing about any religion, so you found yourself hovering a distance away as she sat with her head bowed, hoping that your presence offered some kind of comfort to her, since she had wanted you to be there.

“It’s Hanukkah,” she had told you when she showed up on your doorstep, shifting awkwardly and avoiding your gaze as if she expected you to ever be able to say no to her. “My sister used to drag me out to a synagogue for it so, I don’t know…I wanted to say some prayers.”

The mention of her sister that she had lost made you soften instantly, and you took less than a minute to lace up your shoes and grab your scarf before you were out the door and following her to the church.

You knew that you weren’t a replacement for Dina’s older sister, just like she wasn’t a replacement for your younger sister. But there was still that rare feeling of peace whenever the young girl was at your side, a sense of belonging from the purpose that you could protect her from harm and make her happy in any way you could.

When Dina looked up and met your gaze now, giving you that bright smile that could light up any room she entered, you knew that although she wasn’t the sister you had lost, she was another one that you had gained.

“I said a prayer for your sister,” Dina said quietly when you exited the church, the brisk winter breeze brushing past you and making the two of you huddle closer together while you walked the streets. “I hope you don’t mind.”

You softened immediately, wrapping an arm around her shoulders to tug her into your side. Placing a quick kiss on the top of her head, you squeezed her shoulder as you whispered, “Of course I don’t mind, Dina. Thank you for doing that.”

She smiled up at you again, the living and breathing personification of the sun that eluded the world this time of year, and you smiled back down at her with a laugh as she playfully shoved you away at your rare show of affection.

“Alright, alright,” she sighed dramatically, stretching her arms over her head and punching your shoulder gently before pointing in the direction of her favorite spot for lunch, and you led the way, not even knowing that Dina would gladly follow you anywhere you went.

Then you were standing at the edge of a room again, feeling out of place in one of your safest spaces as attendees of Maria’s holiday (and begrudgingly Tommy’s Secret Santa) party filtered through the door and down the hallways of the home.

Soft music drifted through the house from a record player you recognized as Joel’s set up in the corner of the living room, even as the man was nowhere to be seen.

You really, really tried to stop looking for him, but you just couldn’t stop your head from whipping around in the direction of the front door whenever it opened, only for your shoulders to sink, completely deflating from the anticipation of seeing him every time somebody who wasn’t him walked by.

Taking another sip from the drink you had already refilled twice in your hands, you gently tugged mindlessly at one of the earrings dangling from your ears, not used to the feeling of wearing any sort of jewelry.

But it had been a gift from Maria before the party, along with the dress you now wore as you loitered on the outskirts of the jovial gathering.

“You looked gorgeous in red,” she had said kindly when you opened up the box, staring down at the smooth velvet fabric of the simple, yet elegant burgundy dress with wide eyes. “And I wanted to dress up, so you have to do it with me.”

This dress was considerably more comfortable than the one you wore to the Halloween party, and you were much fonder of how it hugged your curves without leaving little to the imagination in length and tightness. The fabric flowed down to your mid-calf, and you enjoyed the way the soft fabric felt swishing against your legs whenever you turned towards the front door as soon as you heard it opening.

When another person who was very much not Joel walked in, you began to hate the way you deflated each time, instead moving along the outskirts of the living room towards the kitchen, but not without fondly tapping your fingers against the surface of the fireplace mantle in front of the family memorial, as if to say a quick hello to your departed loved ones as you passed.

In the kitchen, you were surprised to find Dina and Ellie huddled together with…Tommy?

“And what’s going on here?” you drawled, watching with curiosity as the three jumped, all turning towards you in the same instant with faces that screamed they had just been caught red-handed.

“Nothing!”

“Cookies!”

“Existential crisis.”

You looked from one face to the next as they all shouted out answers at the same time, Tommy to Dina to eventually Ellie. You rose a brow at the latter’s cheeky response that brought a smile to your face, amused by the mischief in the girl’s eyes, shining brightly while the other two tried to hide whatever they had been scheming.

“Uh-huh,” you said slowly, giving a nod as you moved forward to grab a cookie from a plate. Slightly burnt around the edges, no doubt a sign of one of Jesse’s masterpieces as he tried to help Dina bake once again. “Forgive me if I don’t believe you.”

“You’re forgiven!” Dina and Ellie chirped at the same time before shuffling past you, and you didn’t miss the way Dina kept her body facing you the entire time she passed you, her hands fixed behind her back before she turned quickly and scuttled out of the room, giggling with her friend.

Turning back to Tommy, you arched an eyebrow, glancing over his grin with a quiet groan.

“The fuck are you planning?”

Tommy gave a quiet mock gasp, a sign he had probably spent too long with Dina, concocting up whatever dastardly plan you were starting to suspect they had—and if the two of them were teamed up, you were most likely the target of whatever it was they hoped to achieve.

“You’ll just have to wait and see,” Tommy teased as he walked past you, picking up a cookie himself to raise it towards you in some kind of salute before taking a bite out of it and heading out of the kitchen, and you groaned again, louder this time with a roll of your eyes.

Those people, your chosen family that you loved so much, would surely end up being the death of you one day.

Snow crunched under Joel’s boots as he hurried down the street towards Tommy’s house, holding the poorly wrapped gift tightly in both his hands and cursing under his breath at how late he was.

He had wanted to put the finishing touches on it, telling Ellie that he would be right behind her when she poked her head into his workshop and told him that she was heading out to the party. She had shot him a look that he pointedly ignored as he continued to work, listening to her sigh before heading back down the stairs and out the door.

Without somebody to keep him in check, though, he had completely lost track of time, and ended up wrapping up the present pretty fucking terribly before rushing to his brother’s doorstep. His cheeks were completely flushed from the cold, the exertion from running, and perhaps a bit of apprehension for the reaction of the recipient of the gift when they opened it.

Tommy had simply patted a fond hand on Joel’s shoulder when he opened the door, giving a wide smile before ushering the older man into the house, hardly giving him a moment to take off his jacket and hang it up before he was ushered into the living room.

There were a few hellos exchanged with the patrolmen he tolerated the most before Tommy tried to tug the gift out of Joel’s hands, and he quickly pulled it back, holding it close to his chest as he murmured, “No, I got it.”

Tommy raised an eyebrow, lifting his hands in surrender as he took a step back before gesturing towards a table in the corner where the various presents had been piled for the party.

“By all means, be my guest,” Tommy said with a sly smirk that made Joel’s eye twitch.

Shaking his head to himself, Joel walked over to the table, gently pushing a few of the other gifts to the side to ensure there was not only enough room for the one he had brought, but making sure that there was no way for it to get damaged in some kind of freak accident.

When Joel stepped back towards the wall of the room, his eyes were already moving through the small gathered crowd, anxiously rubbing his thumb over the old punching scars on his knuckles as he searched for the person he both longed and dreaded to see tonight.

At a flash of that familiar hair color, Joel shifted forward, already carefully making his way through the crowd with murmured apologies to whoever he was pushing past as he was helpless to do anything but make a beeline straight towards her.

Because, Jesus Christ.

She was beautiful.

It was only the second time he had seen her wear a dress, but Joel realized somewhere in his subconscious he hoped it wasn’t the last as he glanced over her, just taking her in as she talked to Maria in the dining room.

There was one of those small, rare smiles on her face, a show of fondness for her select few people as she talked to the other woman. And then she laughed and, fuck, he could recognize that sound in his sleep by now, but he would never get tired of hearing it.

Joel was drawn to it, drawn to her, like she was a force of gravity that he was helpless to fall into, unable to resist it even if he tried.

But he didn't want to try.

He didn’t want to resist anymore.

In fact, he thinks he gave up resisting long, long ago.

Joel wanted her, all of her, and with the way she had been opening up to him lately, holding him and allowing him to hold her in ways they never had before—God, he was starting to dare to hope that it may just be possible.

Then her head turned slightly, her eyes meeting his in the middle of a laugh, and the sound faded as he got trapped in her gaze. 

Even with the absence of her laughter, there was still that hint of mirth in her eyes, an amusement that shifted in something warmer, something fonder as they looked at each other, and Joel couldn’t stop himself in his path straight towards her now.

He murmured a hello, and she said it right back, lips turned up in what was half a trademark smirk, half a smile that made his heart race as his eyes traced the curve of her mouth before looking back up at her eyes.

It was impossible to miss the faint flush to her cheeks on the way to meeting her gaze, though, and Joel fought back a smile that was twitching onto his lips, one that quickly fell when he heard a throat clearing right beside them.

“Joel,” Maria greeted, arching an eyebrow at him, and Joel immediately straightened, giving her a nod of respect.

“Maria,” he returned the simple acknowledgement, watching as his sister-in-law shot a smirk towards the woman Joel’s gaze was quickly drawn back towards before moving away to find her husband.

Joel shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans as he was left alone with the very woman who had consumed all his thoughts and affection, watching as her gaze darted from him towards the drink in her hands, her head bowed in a way that was almost shy and so incredibly endearing to see on such a confident woman.

And the thought that he may have been the one to elicit such a bashful reaction, just from his presence alone?

Joel rose a hand to rub nervously over the growing beard on his chin, his own eyes averting from hers as he found himself mumbling, “Uh, you look—”

“Awkward?”

He glanced over at her in surprise, brows furrowing as he saw her eyes waver even with her face turned slightly away from him, shifting almost uncomfortably in her heels, and Joel automatically moved a few steps closer to her, finding a place by her side as his hand rose to subtly, gently graze his fingertips over her back.

The velvet fabric of the dress was soft under his touch, and he hummed, giving in to temptation and pressing his palm gently against the small of her back for just the briefest of moments as he dipped his head down to murmur next to her ear, “Beautiful.”

She froze up momentarily under his touch at the simple word, and Joel immediately pulled back, uncertainty and embarrassment flooding him in equal turns as he leaned back.

“Too much?” he asked quietly, eyes searching hers almost anxiously when she lifted her head to meet his gaze at the earnest question.

But then his breath was stolen from his lungs as he saw she was looking at him with nothing but open honesty, and there was no hint of rejection hidden anywhere in it, only a half-lidded longing that made Joel’s pulse quicken to see from her.

Her lips parted, and he looked down to see that same shade of lipstick she had worn before, on her date and at the dance. A thought passed through his mind then, wondering how that lipstick would look smeared across his mouth if he kissed her, again and again, because Lord knew if she allowed him to then he would never be able to stop.

Joel wondered if she could sense the direction of his thoughts as she leaned closer to him, her head tilting back as she caught his gaze once again. That longing in her eyes only deepened as she whispered, voice thick with a heat that didn’t have anything to do with lustful desire, “Not enough.”

His own mouth fell open then, and Joel stared at her, heart nearly pounding out of his chest at the two simple words that threw his entire life out of balance.

Then it was like all of a sudden, the pieces fell right back into place, and everything made so much more sense than ever before.

Her name slipped past his lips, and he watched her eyelashes flutter, the color of those enchanting eyes darker and, God, he was just about ready to give in to overwhelming temptation and claim her mouth with his then and there if it wasn’t for his brother’s voice echoing through the house from the living room.

Joel forced himself to lean back from her, glancing back over his shoulder to listen to Tommy announcing that the gift opening would now commence.

With a sigh, Joel took a step away from her. Then another, gesturing for her to enter the living room ahead of him, even as his hand trembled slightly from the thought of her opening the gift he had spent the last few weeks painstakingly carving until it was perfect.

He only hoped that that wasn’t too much, and dared to also hope even further that tonight just may be the night when he could finally feel how soft her lips were instead of imagining it every time he fell asleep with her arms around him.

Your hands were shaking as you reached for the gift that had your name carefully written on a tag that had been crudely tied to the very poorly wrapped present, a soft laugh leaving your lips at the sight of it.

Given Tommy’s scheming that you now began to realize had Dina and Ellie as accomplices, you had a very strong feeling who had gotten you this gift, and it was impossible to keep a smile from growing on your face as you found a chair on the edge of the room to sit and stare at the gift in your lap.

Raising your head up, you looked across the room for him, but the bulk of the crowd was now filling the living room, all excitedly chatting as they opened their gifts, and Joel was nowhere to be seen.

With a sigh, you glanced back down at the gift, wondering if you should wait for him to be present before opening it.

But an impatient voice in your mind urged you on, saying that this was a Secret Santa party. You technically weren’t supposed to know who had given it to you, so you didn’t have to wait for him, right?

Besides, Joel had been right beside you before you walked into the living room. If he had wanted to see you open it, he would have stayed with you.

Somehow, you got the feeling that he may be almost embarrassed by whatever he had gotten you, so you found yourself biting your lip in anticipation as you struggled to pull the wrapping paper off of the box.

Your heart was racing, and you shook your head, taking a deep breath to steady yourself as you repeated internally that it was just a gift, you were being silly. It didn’t have to mean anything.

But when you lifted the top of the box off, and saw what was inside, you truly lost the ability to form any coherent thoughts for a moment, unable to think anything other than a simple: oh.

Fingers trembling, you reached down into the box to pull out the smaller wooden box inside, glancing over it to try and take it all in, even as your eyes kept drifting back to the design carved on the lid.

Your fingers danced carefully along the ridges of the wood, tracing the moon and the stars in the center, and your heart squeezed in your chest as you sucked in a breath, trying to compose yourself even as you felt tears springing to your eyes.

It was beautiful. Intricately carved, with flowers engraved along the edges, but it was that celestial theme that you kept looking back to, your chest aching for him once again, stronger than ever before as you carefully lifted the lid to the box.

That ache only deepened further, a feeling you had thought impossible, as you saw words carefully carved to the inside of the lid.

You weren’t fluent in Spanish, but you had picked up some words here and there from Tommy, and you recognized estrellita along with the mi luna that Joel had taken up calling you—never too often, but every now and then it would slip past his lips, a quiet endearment when you found yourselves tangled together in bed, usually before drifting off into a peaceful sleep.

In the back of your mind, you remembered that first night Joel had called you it, how you had questioned him and he had only told you what luna meant.

What you hadn’t told him was that you already knew what the other word meant—mi.

My.

My moon.

He had called you his.

And, fuck, you were.

You were all his; heart, body and soul. Every part of you was a part of Joel and Jesus Christ, why had you been so dense for so long?

Deep down, you knew why—you had never felt like this for anybody before. It was terrifying, because not only did you hate being so out of your depth, but you were scared of what it meant.

Scared of letting yourself fall into it, into him, so completely, when there could never be a guarantee that one of you wouldn't end up leaving the other someday. 

Not by choice—you knew by now you could never pull yourself away from his side—but by the cruel fucking hands of fate that clutched this sorry, ugly world in its unforgiving talons.

How could you live with yourself if you allowed this, only to lose him?

But with that small, elaborately carved box in your hand, the edges of the words underneath your fingertips—you realized you had already allowed yourself to fall into him.

It had happened so slowly that you hadn’t even known it. But now as you looked up, gaze searching through the crowd until you finally saw him, standing at the edge of the room opposite you, his familiar, comforting dark gaze already focused on you as you admired your gift…

You knew it was much too late to try and convince yourself it hadn’t already happened.

Joel immediately straightened against the other wall as your gaze met his, some look you didn’t recognize passing through his eyes before he turned, slipping away from the gathered group to head farther into the house, and you were already on your feet and moving after him before you could think twice.

Your steps slowed as you neared the kitchen, empty now except for him as you watched him place his hands on the edge of the counter, leaning over it in a way that was almost similar to how he had leaned against the streetlight a year ago, and you were walking forward instantly.

“Hey,” you said softly, and Joel jumped, glancing up from what you realized was the gift you had wrapped up for him, sitting on the counter in front of him, to you.

He stiffened, pushing himself off the counter to glance over you, brows furrowed before quickly looking away.

“Uh—” Joel cleared his throat, rubbing a thumb and forefinger across his mustache before nodding over at you. “Howdy.”

You laughed softly, moving to stand next to him as you carefully placed your box on the counter next to his wrapped gift.

“Somebody knows me well,” you said quietly, tapping a finger gently against the top of the box before smiling up at him, letting your fondness for him bleed through your expression, and you heard the audible intake of breath from Joel before he looked away again.

His mouth opened and then closed again, apparently at a loss for words as he shuffled his feet next to you, and your smile grew, overwhelmed with admiration for this man who had somehow completely captured your heart.

You gently nudged his own gift towards him with a finger, tilting your head so you could catch his gaze with another smile, and you watched Joel soften, something that made your smile only grow, butterflies surging through you at the sight of what you could do to such a hardened soul that you cherished so deeply with just one simple look.

“Go on,” you said quietly, tapping your fingers against his gift before pulling your hand back, turning to lean against the counter as you watched him. “Open it.”

Joel glanced over you for another moment before sighing, reaching out to take the box into his hand and unwrap it. It was almost as poorly wrapped as his own, and it took a bit of difficulty for him to get it off—so much so that you had to reach out your own hands to help him yourself, fingers dancing around his as you tried to peel the paper away with laughter bubbling from your throat.

Deeper laughter joined your own, and your eyes met Joel’s, the two of you sharing a smile until the box was finally freed. He looked down at it for a moment before slowly opening it, staring down at the contents for a moment before pulling out what was inside.

He gazed over the mug, falling quiet as his thumb brushed against the depiction of an owl on the side, and you watched anxiously for any expression that revealed his opinion about it, but his face was completely blank.

“Um,” you hedged, shifting awkwardly on your feet, and Joel blinked rapidly, almost as if pulling himself out of a stupor as he looked up to watch you ramble, “It’s just—you know, boring ass mugs and all that. Like, I know you’ve been getting different colored ones, but—ah, shit, I’m fucking bad at this.”

So distracted by your own spiraling, you didn’t notice Joel carefully set the mug back down on the counter, or see his hand as it began to reach for your waist.

“You have a lot of owl carvings,” you continued to stumble and stutter over your words, heart racing in your chest, fidgeting with your hands as you somehow talked a mile a minute without saying anything at all. “So I saw this one and thought, oh, hey, maybe Joel—”

The instant his name left your lips, his own were upon you, pressed gently but almost desperately to the corner of your mouth, and you gasped.

You were grabbing him before your mind could keep up, head turning to try and catch his lips by reflex, by a deep desire to finally have his mouth on yours, but he evaded your efforts. Instead Joel pressed kisses all along your cheek and up your face, rapidly kissing your forehead before moving back down the other side, reminding you of that first morning you had woken up in his bed.

“Joel,” his name slipped past your lips again in a sigh, nearly begging as he kissed the other side of your mouth. You tried to catch his lips again for a real kiss, but he was moving down, lips caressing the skin under your jaw and down your neck as he pressed you against the counter.

Your leg somehow ended up hooked around his waist as his hands slid down the back of your dress, bunching up the velvet fabric as he hummed against your skin at the soft gasps and quiet moans that left your lips that ached to be on his.

Opening your mouth to beg him to finally close that distance for good, you were quickly interrupted by a cheerful voice echoing through the kitchen, “Where did you two—oh, Jesus Christ, really?”

Joel pulled his mouth away from your neck, glancing over at Tommy standing in the archway of the room at the same moment you did.

You patted at Joel, trying to get him to let you go as your cheeks flushed in embarrassment at your best friend catching you wrapped up in his brother’s embrace, but Joel only lowered your leg, adjusting your dress so you were decent without pulling himself away from you completely.

“In my kitchen?” Tommy continued, letting out an exasperated sigh as he rubbed a hand over his eyes and down his face. “For fuck’s sake, use your own!”

Biting your lip, you couldn’t help but respond almost on instinct with a mischievous, “Oh, we have.”

“Fucking—” Tommy shook his head, turning sharply on his heel as he left the room, but not without calling back over his shoulder, “Again—horny bastards!”

You laughed, ducking your face to try and hide your blush against Joel’s neck as you listened to the footsteps of your best friend recede.

Even when the two of you were alone again, you remained there a moment, fingers gripping the back of Joel’s flannel, breathing in the comforting scent of earth that wafted from his skin before you pulled back.

“Guess we should head back, huh?” you murmured, glancing over Joel’s face, biting your lip to hold back a smile when you saw his own cheeks were tinged slightly pink in the most endearing blush you had ever seen.

Joel glanced over your own face, reaching a hand up to graze the backs of his fingers down your cheek before stepping back with a nod.

“Yeah,” he said quietly, seeming to struggle for a moment before finally tearing his gaze away from you. Picking up his mug, he held it carefully against his chest, returning your nod before mumbling, “Yeah, guess so.”

The smile finally broke free on your face, so you turned it away, trying to hide your growing giddiness, feeling fucking stupid to be so happy just from a stupid kiss that wasn’t even a real kiss. Your lips had yet to really touch Joel’s but, God, you were aching all over for it.

And tonight it seemed like you may finally get it.

Upon your return to the living room, you were stopped suddenly in the archway of the dining room, stumbling when somebody knocked into your side, sending you colliding into Joel, forcing his arm to reach out and circle around your waist to steady you.

“What the fu—”

Your affronted swearing cut off when you saw the back of Dina’s head as she ran past you, giggling as she found a spot by Ellie’s side next to the fireplace. The two girls grinned at you, a matching twinkle in their eyes as Ellie shot a finger gun to you and Joel, before slowly pointing it above you.

Joel stiffened instantly, but it took you a moment to catch up, glancing from the teens to the spot where Ellie was pointing and—

Oh.

You blinked a few times, staring at the small bunch of a green plant hanging in the archway above you, as if you were expecting it to be a hallucination that would disappear when you reopened your eyes.

But each time you blinked, it was still there, and your eyes widened before darting back down to Joel to see him looking at anything but you.

The pink on his cheeks had spread to his neck, and you immediately softened, glancing over the rare sight of thinly veiled nervousness accentuating the hard lines of that handsome face.

When he finally glanced back at you, his mouth opening to no doubt brush the circumstance aside, you were already leaning up, head tilting at the last moment to brush your lips in a gentle, featherlight kiss across the adorable blush on his face that quickly deepened in shade underneath the press of your lips there.

You lingered there, lips grazing across his cheek up to his ear to whisper, “Take me home, Joel.”

At your words, Joel’s grip on you tightened, a shaky breath leaving his lips as you pulled back. His eyes met yours, the brown of them so deep it felt never-ending, and your own breath caught in your throat as he nodded.

Somewhere, in the back of your mind, you could register the eyes of your friends on you—and not just them. There were people watching as Joel’s hand remained firmly on the small of your back, gently directing you towards the front door, where he took his worn, brown leather jacket from the coat rack to lay across your shoulders, despite your protests that you had brought your own coat.

“Let them see,” was all he murmured, a familiar smug smirk twitching onto his lips, and your heart skipped a beat, desire sparking through your veins as you realized that Joel was subtly claiming you as his in front of all these people.

And, fuck, you were more than happy to let him.

In fact, the entire walk back to Joel’s house, that was all you could think of.

Pressed gently to his side as his hand slid underneath the jacket to remain on the small of your back; his.

The snow falling gently around you, landing on the silver in his hair as you secretly admired him whenever he wasn’t trying to sneak his own glances at you; his.

When he opened the door for you, standing back to allow you to go first, giving you a small, gentle smile as he looked at you with an anticipation that went past your usual hunger, an emotion that was far deeper than pure lust; his.

Joel directed you towards the living room, his hand only falling from your back as he murmured something about making you drinks, asking you to get a fire going before leaving you standing there in a whirlwind of your anticipation and longing to have him back with you as quickly as possible.

The request to make a fire almost made you laugh, reminding you of the patrol where you had fixed his dislocated shoulder, while you set about getting the fireplace ready. You remembered his cold demeanor then, and marveled at how he had completely warmed to you since, a warmth that settled into your bones even deeper than the one from the fire that you soon had going, setting the box he had carved for you on top of the fireplace mantle for now.

Joel still wasn’t back yet, and you were bound to start pacing anxiously if you didn’t do something with yourself, so you began to collect pillows and a few blankets off the furniture in the room, setting up a cozy little spot in front of the fire to sink down onto and wait for him.

Your face turned, eyes fluttering shut as you inhaled his comforting scent from his jacket that still rested around your shoulders, a smile growing onto your face as you shifted to pull your knees up to your chest, hugging them tightly while you pressed your cheek on top of them.

Footsteps began to echo back down the hallway, and your heart raced in your chest, breathing picking up even though you hadn’t even seen him yet.

You waited for him to join you, but when the footsteps stopped at the entrance to the room, and a few beats passed, you glanced back over your shoulder to see what had made him pause.

But when you met Joel’s gaze, you saw that he had only been looking at you, that same depth to his eyes that you had seen under the mistletoe, and your stomach fluttered with those goddamn butterflies you were secretly growing more fond of as you looked at the mugs he held in his hands—a dark orange one for you, and the one with the owl that you had just gifted him.

Looking back up at him, you didn’t even realize you were grinning until your cheeks began to hurt, and you quickly turned your head away, facing back towards the fireplace as Joel finally walked forward to pass your mug to you.

You gladly took it, wrapping your hands around the cup, soaking the warmth into your cold hands as he sank down beside you onto your arranged pillows with a quiet grunt.

“Quite the little setup you got goin’ here,” he teased gently, and you rolled your eyes, glancing back to meet his playful little smirk with one of your own.

“It’s cozy,” you said quietly, nudging his shoulder with yours, but you didn’t pull away, letting your sides press together comfortably as you glanced towards the fire.

You brought the cup up to your lips for a sip, brows furrowing as the taste was much sweeter, almost richer than what you had been expecting.

Glancing down into the cup, you blinked a few times before meeting Joel’s gaze as you slowly began to ask, “Is this…?”

Joel nodded, taking a sip from his own mug, and you felt your heart ache with a foreign happiness at the sight of that owl art underneath his long, callused fingers as he replied, “Hot chocolate.”

You arched an eyebrow, glancing over him with a low whistle. “Damn, Miller. Pulling out the big guns tonight?”

Joel shrugged, lips pulling up into a half-smirk that made your stomach flip as he drawled, “I gotta try, don’t I?”

Cheeks flushing at the hardly disguised flirtation, your eyes darted back to your own mug, drinking more of the hot chocolate and humming at the taste now that you weren’t expecting it to be coffee.

Silence fell between you then as you drank your hot chocolate in content, and even when the mugs were empty and placed back on the floor, you still remained quiet, sides pressed together as you both gazed into the fire.

Or, you thought you were both watching the logs crack under the flickering flames. But when you turned your head to finally break the silence, you found Joel watching you instead, a softness to his gaze that you had never seen before.

You sucked in a sharp breath, eyes widening as you looked up into that gaze, eyes so large and brown, so deep and warm, pulling you in further as your lips parted, aching for him.

Always aching for him.

Your heart skipped a beat as you saw those beautiful eyes flash down to your mouth at the movement, his hand raising to stroke the backs of his trembling fingers down your cheek before he turned it over to lay his palm there. 

Joel cupped your face, thumb finding your chin to tilt your head up towards him as his eyes lifted back up from your lips, searching your gaze intently as you were too stunned, too entranced by the intimacy of the action to tear yourself away again.

Unable to help yourself, you gave in to the temptation to feel his own face beneath your fingers, reaching up to cup his face between your hands, revering the way he shivered at your touch.

Leaning forward, you watched his eyes begin to fall shut, a trembling breath leaving him while he sank into the growing familiarity of your touch on his face. 

You hadn’t realized it when your physical intimacy only went so far as pure sex before, but now that you had slowly begun to touch each other more casually, more familiarly, you were realizing with a startled clarity that Joel was a touch starved man.

And you think you were just as starved for touch.

Starved for his touch.

“Joel, I…” your words trailed off, and you noticed somewhere in the back of your mind how breathless, how disjointed and strung-out you sounded as his eyes opened back up, half-lidded and full of a longing that made your heart race.

“I…” Joel tried to say something himself, his eyes flickering all over your face, like he was trying to take you in all at once, but it wasn’t enough.

His face leaned down just an inch, his eyes continuing to search yours, waiting to see if you would pull back.

When you didn’t, Joel leaned down further, stopping only when the strong slope of his nose bumped against yours, his hot breath mingling with your own as he whispered again, “I…”

Your lips parted, tilting your face up so they nearly brushed with his own before pulling back just enough to meet his gaze as you murmured, “Do you want to kiss me, Joel Miller?”

The world froze for a moment.

You could feel Joel’s breath catch more than you heard it, feeling the lack of warmth fanning against your lips before that breath suddenly left him in a rush as he whispered earnestly, “Yes.”

Heart pounding, your eyelashes fluttered, losing yourself in the way he looked at you, with eyes so deep and dark that you couldn’t see an end to him. 

Couldn’t see an end without him.

But he was still waiting, still wanting to make sure you were okay with this, and you sighed, pouring all your pining for him into the sound before you whispered back, “Then what are you waiting for?”

As soon as the last word left your lips, Joel’s were pressed to them, stealing all the breath out of your lungs as he kissed you for the first time.

It was a soft kiss; barely even there, his lips pressed to yours for only a few seconds before he pulled back.

Even so, you could already feel his hand shaking from where he still cupped your cheek. Your own fingers were trembling from where they left his face to wrap around his neck, not giving him a moment to second-guess or say another word before you pulled him back down.

This time when you kissed, it was full and deep—deeper, deeper as his lips moved gently, then urgently against yours.

By no means was it a smooth kiss—it had been over a year since one of you had kissed anyone, instead spending all your time falling hopelessly into each other, trying to deny it until it was as sure as the sun rising every morning and setting each night.

No, the first real kiss you shared was sloppy, desperate, teeth nearly clashing as you sought to capture his lips with yours, and he did the same, again and again. He leaned forward, both his hands cupping your face as your fingers tangled in his hair, finally feeling how soft those curls were, and you whimpered into his mouth as it opened to swallow your sound of need.

Joel’s tongue slid into your mouth then, finding yours as he kissed you in a way that felt almost anguished, despairing for all the time you had wasted by trying to stay away from one another.

He continued to lean up and over you until you were gently falling back onto the pillows you had set up around you, settling himself on top of you as your lips parted from his only long enough for you to draw in enough breath to stay alive for each other before you were kissing again, over and over, until you were dizzy with only the feeling of him.

“Joel,” you whispered breathlessly, moaning as his lips closed around your bottom lip to suck on it before his teeth grazed against it, gently biting down and making an ache throb between your legs as he panted against your mouth.

“Need you,” Joel murmured just as breathlessly, one of his large hands moving to cup the back of your head as he tried to move his lips away to kiss across your face or down your neck, but he kept moving back up to your mouth, kissing you so passionately your head was spinning as he whispered, his voice thick with longing, “I need you.”

“Yours,” you gasped, grabbing his face to keep his lips against yours, breathing the words into his open mouth as you repeated, “I’m yours, Joel. Yours.”

Joel groaned, the sound turning into a whimper that just made the throbbing of your desire more intense, your panties growing damp as you felt his weight shift so his growing erection pressed against the center of your hips.

You were both grabbing for clothes in the same instant, nearly laughing at your clumsy eagerness to be undressed, which was only making it harder to do so.

Pulling your hands back, you let Joel undress you first, pushing his jacket off your shoulders with a groan at the sight of you still wearing it before laying his hands against the velvet of your dress, sliding his palms down to grab the hem as he whispered in your ear, “I meant it. Beautiful.”

You shivered, biting your lips that were already sore and swollen from his attention as he pulled the dress up and over your head. His hands reached behind your back, unhooking your bra next, throwing it to the side to be forgotten before tugging your panties down your legs.

“So beautiful,” Joel continued to whisper, his tone so full of admiration that you were whining even before his fingers found your folds. “You’re so beautiful.”

The sounds you were already making only became louder, moans and whimpers escaping your parted lips for only him to hear. It was almost like Joel just remembered he could finally kiss you now as he heard them, his face moving back down to desperately slot his mouth over yours while he collected your wetness on his fingers before they found your clit.

“Joel,” you gasped, grabbing his shoulders, before frowning to yourself as you remembered that he was still fully dressed.

You began to tug at the buttons on his flannel while he slowly rubbed your clit, your fingers fumbling as he worked to bring you pleasure in the way only he knew how, a deep laugh rumbling from his lips to land against yours while you struggled to get him undressed.

“Bastard,” you gasped, hips jerking up as you felt that ache in your core increase, the pressure building as your hands found his chest when you finally managed to get his shirt completely unbuttoned.

“You like it,” he hummed before he kissed you again, pulling the sounds of your pleasure into his mouth as he made you cum hard, hips continuing to weakly thrust up into his fingers that continued to stroke you through your high.

“Fuck,” you whimpered, licking your lips as you tried to catch your breath before nudging his hand away from your clit so you could get his shirt off.

His pants and boxers coming off was a blur, your vision still blurry from the intensity of your first orgasm, but you recognized the familiar feeling of the ridges of his cock pressed against your folds the moment he settled himself between your legs.

“Need you,” you found yourself whispering this time, lifting your hips to try and line yourself up with him even as Joel continued to swipe himself along your folds, taking his time to collect your dripping wetness, a groan of pleasure nearly humming from the back of his throat at your desperation. “Need you, Joel, please.”

When the head of his cock finally pushed through your folds, your head tilted back with a gasp, and Joel quickly grabbed one of the pillows around you, lifting your head to tuck it underneath before grabbing another pillow to rest underneath your back.

“Yours,” he whispered right back, echoing your own simple declaration to him as he continued to sink inside of you, and your eyes flashed open, meeting his to see that they were nothing but open and warm and real, the truth of the words fulfilling that deep, soulful ache you had felt around him for months and, oh. “I’m yours.”

That sudden realization fled your mind as Joel pulled back to thrust back into you again, and you both gasped, his forehead coming down to rest against yours as he repeated the motion again.

And again, and again, his cock easily slipping almost all the way out before rolling back in, fucking you slowly, sensually, until you were both sweating and panting from trying to make this moment last for as long as you could.

“Joel—”

He began to pick up the pace just at the sound of his name leaving your lips, already knowing exactly what you wanted, what you needed, as he fucked you into the mess of blankets and pillows strewn across the floor in front of the fire that still burned brightly in his fireplace.

No, fucking was the wrong word. You weren’t fucking anymore, you were—

You gasped, back arching as his thumb found your clit again, rubbing it quickly in your favorite way so that you were digging your nails into his back, leaving your mark on him as Joel whimpered. He adjusted himself, laying his full body weight against you as he bucked into you rapidly, letting his skin stimulate your clit instead until you were coming again.

The world faded around you for a moment, and the only thing keeping you grounded to the moment were his lips pressed desperately to yours, whispering gentle words of praise right into your soul until you blinked a few times, gaining enough realization of your surroundings to look back up at him.

His brow was furrowed as sweat dripped down it, gaze clouded with the build of pleasure that was quickly nearing a climax, but even then it was so fucking honest and adoring and only for you that you found yourself whispering, “Inside.”

Joel’s eyes widened, and he shook his head slightly, even as his hips began to stutter, his thrusts growing sloppy. He whispered your name as a warning, even as the rasp of his voice sounded like he was nearly begging you to say it again, to confirm it.

“Inside, Joel,” you repeated, nodding at him to show it was okay, that you wanted it, wanted him, and his eyes squeezed shut, mouth falling open as it only took a few more thrusts until he was spilling inside of you with a loud, long moan.

You whined at the feeling of his cum filling you up, your own lips parting with a gasp at the delicious way his cock pulsed so deeply inside of you until eventually the feeling subsided.

Joel panted heavily, his forehead nearly colliding with yours, lips searching blindly for your own in the afterglow of his orgasm, and you kissed him again, both of you moaning into the contact as you wrapped your arms around his neck to keep him there.

Once he caught his breath, Joel slowly pulled out of you, glancing down with a groan, and you followed the direction of his eyes to see his cum dripping from your thoroughly fucked pussy and down your legs.

You moaned yourself at the sight, glancing from it back at him with a breathless chuckle, and he shook his head, even as his lips pressed to your temple while he murmured, “We shouldn’t have done that.”

“Probably not,” you whispered back, wincing at how dry your throat was, and Joel pulled back, rolling off of you when he noticed how hoarse your voice sounded.

“I’ll—” he cut off, falling back down against the blankets with a grunt as he tried to push himself up. “Fuck, just—can’t feel my legs. Gimme a second.”

You giggled, and Joel’s eyes lit up at the rare sound, his kiss-swollen lips turning up into a fond smile as you curled up against him.

“Old man,” you teased, pressing a kiss to his chest, and he hummed as his arm wrapped around your back, holding you against him as he kissed the top of your head.

“Yeah,” he agreed with a sigh, squeezing your side and making you squeak, an unexpected, unheard of sound from you that earned warm laughter that rumbled from his chest, and you could feel the vibrations of the sound underneath your ear as he added huskily, “But you like that too.”

You bit your lip before wincing, realizing how sore your mouth was from his kisses before you looked up at him.

“Maybe I do,” you teased quietly, and he smiled, leaning down to gently kiss your swollen lips once—then two, three times, unable to get enough of you before finally managing to extract himself out from under you and push himself up to his feet.

You adjusted on the pillows until you were comfortable enough, even though you could feel your body already beginning to ache from the intensity of your passion.

“Probably shouldn’t have done it on the floor, either,” you muttered as Joel returned with a washcloth and a glass of water, handing the latter to you so you could satisfy your parched throat while he cleaned up the mess he had left between your legs.

“Yeah,” Joel mumbled with a wince as he gently swiped the washcloth along your folds and inner thighs, glancing up at you with a small smile that was almost bashful and made your heart swell with fondness, “I may have been a little too eager, there.”

“I think we both were,” you laughed quietly, a little nervously, eyes darting back and forth between his to find he was just as uncertain about this new development in your relationship as you.

The funny thing was, it didn’t even feel like a huge step—or perhaps it wasn’t really a surprise at all. Every step you had taken forward with Joel had felt normal, right, and this just felt like another natural progression towards whatever was next for the two of you.

When he settled back onto the pillows, pulling you onto his chest as he wrapped a blanket around you—specifically you, making sure you were as covered up and warm as you could be, even as it left himself almost completely bare—you relaxed into him without a second thought.

Still, you tried to subtly adjust the blanket to share it with him, earning a frown from him that quickly shifted into a small smile as you murmured with a flush on your cheeks, “Savior complex.”

You fell quiet then, soaking in the warmth of his body underneath yours, marveling for not the first time how the man was a fucking furnace as his fingers began to lazily comb through your hair.

When his other hand found your arm that was draped across his torso, drawing circles against your skin, you sighed happily, not even realizing his name had left your lips until you heard him murmur, “I like the way you say my name.”

Your head lifted, looking up at Joel as he stared up at the ceiling, his gaze almost melancholic while you asked softly, “How do I say it?”

Joel hummed thoughtfully, looking back down at you in the same moment his hand rose from your arm, fingers stroking your cheek as he gazed into your eyes and whispered, “Like it’s something worth saying.”

A heavy breath rushed from your lips, brows furrowing as you adjusted yourself so you were propped up against his chest.

“Joel—”

“There it is again,” he said quietly, wistfully, his eyes so large and sweet that you were falling hopelessly into him yet again.

You shook your head, pulling yourself up so you were hanging over him, your fingers running through his messy curls as you whispered earnestly, “It is worth saying.”

Now Joel shook his head, just slightly, and you frowned, placing your hand on his cheek to bring his eyes back to your face as he tried to avoid your gaze as you said firmly, “Joel. It is.”

Your thumb brushed across his lips, swollen from your kisses, then down across the beard on his chin that he had grown out just for you, feeling the scratch of it under your touch before you added in an almost scolding tone, “None of that savior complex bullshit.”

He laughed then, a quiet chuckle, his brow arching as he glanced over your face. “Only if you do the same.”

Rolling your eyes with a huff, you moved the blanket so that you could swing your leg over his waist, straddling him so you could cup his face between both your hands, gently urging him to look at you, really look at you, because you wanted him to hear what you had to say.

“You’re a good man, Joel.”

He scoffed even before you had finished talking, and you frowned deeply, tilting his head back towards you as he tried to look away as you repeated, “Joel. You are a good man.”

“You know exactly what kind of man I am,” he said, finally meeting your eyes fully, his voice resolute and drawing a sigh from deep within your chest.

“Yes, I do,” you replied, giving a nod as you softened, thumb brushing along his cheek in a tender caress, a soft touch that he deserved after all his years of suffering. “You are a good man to me. A good man to Ellie. To Tommy, and Hope.”

Joel’s eyes wavered, taken aback by the conviction in your tone, but he leaned into your gentle caresses on his cheek, gaze warming as he glanced over your face while you spoke.

“I don’t fucking care what you’ve done, Joel, because I know why you did it,” you continued, keeping his gaze as you poured all your affection that had grown for him into the words. “I know why you did it all. And I would have done the exact same fucking things.”

When you finished speaking, you leaned down to press your lips to his forehead in a gentle kiss, resting your mouth there for a moment before tilting your face down to capture his own lips in a soft kiss that made an oath you finally knew how to keep.

Because it required no effort—not really. Every part of you already belonged to him, as he did to you.

All you had to do now was stay by his side, until the end.

And when Joel looked at you, gazing up at you with an admiration so sincere, like you truly were the moon in the sky that would always bring him home—home to you—you knew you would.

“Take me to bed,” you whispered then, in a way so soft, so yearning, that you knew you didn’t mean just tonight, but every night after.

And so he did.

[horrorshow]

Can you talk about why you think blocking and moving on is a bad thing? I thought it was a way to curate your space and avoid drama

idk maybe i'm too idealistic but fandom is a much more friendlier, welcoming, supportive, creative, engaging, active, diverse and interesting space when it's treated like a community where people are encouraged to participate and talk about their interests and where there's space for niche or more unpopular opinions without these people having to worry about being blocked and feel unwelcome by the majority of the fandom they are in. i can't stand how blocking everyone you disagree with has become the first thing to do.

you say its 'to curate your experience'. but blocking people does not only curate YOUR experience. you're also forcefully curating other users' experiences. and not for the better.

people say 'i will block you for literally anything' and then those same people wonder why engagement is down, why no one sends asks, why no one reblogs, why rarely anyone talks in the tags anymore and why this place feels so dead and boring and quiet. i wonder why!!!!

people treat real people as annoying ads they can dispose of at their whim. but that's not how a fandom or a site like tumblr works. (besides, if you really care about people curating their own experience you wouldn't block people. you can filter and blacklist and never see them again while still granting them the same freedom instead of actively making their experience worse.)

you say its to avoid drama. but seeing a post you dont agree with is not 'drama'. and blocking is not solving anything except for you personally. fandom was more fun when we remembered that every user is a real person you share a space with, and probably some mutuals as well, so you find a way to live with each other. starting with a restraining order seems a bit excessive and is not contributing to anything. it's not that hard to be respectful and tolerate others and acknowledge people have different opinions and interests and still co-exist in peace. its not that hard to be nice to people and try to find common ground with them and interact with the stuff you DO like. you do this in every aspect of your real life, so why not online?

i hear you say: 'but that requires WORK and i don't NEED to do any of that bc i can just block them'.

yeah, you can try to create your own bubble and only hang out with like minded people but you wont EVER fully achieve that (no matter how much you block, social media WILL keep feeding you posts you disagree with bc it makes them money). social media WILL pressure you into an 'us vs. them' mentality where you constantly feel like everything online is a threat or an argument you have to win and where being mean and unnuanced gives you the most notes and where you don't even see, let alone be able to treat, other users as people anymore bc you don't interact with them anymore other than to block or fight them. that's not how i want it to be online. it's not fun to me. and maybe i'm a pessimist but i think it will eventually be the death of online fandom and sites like tumblr. look at the state of twitter right now. DOES blocking give you a better experience in the long run? i doubt that it does. overall, i think it makes people even less tolerable and more vulnerable to hate and fear mongering, and social media an even more hostile place.

it's everything i hate about social media and everything i want to fight against and WILL fight against. i won't pretend my meager contribution will change anything, but i LIKE to just scroll past posts i don't vibe with and not see every argument online as a personal offense. it keeps me curious. most posts aren't that bad when you know the person behind it. i mean, you do you, i'm not gonna say what you should or shouldn't do bc that's up to you, but i recommend it: free yourself of the block button and bring back supportive user communities based on a shared love for the same thing and focus on what you have in common with people, just like you would do in real life. save the block button for the rotten apples who DO keep trying to pick fights and exclude others.

(which is, now that i think about it, probably the main difference: most people see the block button as a neutral way to prevent worse. but. that's only the case on an individual level. and treating everything online as an individual choice to which there are no further consequences, especially if they happen on a larger scale, is already a loss.)

[weemietime]

Why the FUCK are you bringing up the Iraq war to defend Israel

That's like saying "oh you think ISIS is bad? Did you know America dropped agent orange on Vietnamese?"

Nigga we think both of those things are fucking terrible

Why the FUCK are you bringing up the Iraq war to defend Israel

Read my pinned post, for it explains in excruciating detail why it is important to treat every person and every country on Earth with equity and dignity. It is that fucking simple.

we think both of those things are fucking terrible

The problem is that you don't, actually.

Because you treat equivalent situations (actually, the Iraq war was far worse) with different standards. Which means that you don't actually have a problem with the situation, but rather with the parties involved.

It is not my fault that you are unable to read and comprehend the very plain and clear explanations that I have already laid out for you. But just in case you didn't get the memo, here are some posts I have made in my private friend group that elucidate it clearly to you fucking imbeciles.

Honestly it's an emotional thing for me because I've seen a lot of the unrwa materials for schools in Gaza that actively teach kids to cheer for dead Jews, sinwar was found with a unrwa employee tag, unrwa members participated in Oct 7th, the UN is being very quiet about condemning the sexual abuse that happened during this pogrom. They did finally say they found it credible but this was instantly buried and is never brought up by any UN officials any longer, the UN first didn't even admit to complicity and now are saying they want immunity for their unrwa employees who were complicit, countries like Russia and China are using their seats at the UN to push the narrative of genocide with no evidence and zero pushback while the UN platforms their voices and refuses to condemn their genocidal actions and it just feels like, you know, part of the intergenerational trauma of the Holocaust is that the international community at the time, the league of nations, was also very lackluster about condemning the genocide against us and did indeed have many member states who openly supported and participated. I mean this was an attack that was planned for 15 years by people who pretended for generations to be the friends of these peace activists and shit. It's just a theme of betrayal and the feeling that we Jews are alone. Because the loudest voices from every country are shouting from the river to the sea lol. Is it a totally factual statement, is it a cognitive distortion, probably. But there is a real sentiment behind the words that is born from pain, not just shit posting

Of course it's a lot. Even one is too much. But every time these dipshits talk they say "Israel killed 40,000 children." No, the official number given by Hamas and the UN is 7,797. Plus 4,959 women. That's 12,756 civilians. Out of a 40,000 death toll, that is 27,244 Hamas combatants killed meaning the ratio of combatants to civilians dying is 2.25:1. This is an INSANELY good C/C ratio and is the numbers that Hamas has given. The normal C/C ratio is 9:1, the USA C/C ratio in Iraq was 4.46:1 out of 174,000 meaning a 77% civilian casualty rate. And look at how people talk about the war in Iraq and Iraq war veterans and Americans and tell me that matches how people are discussing Israel. You know? I'm not blaming people for being antiwar. For being horrified. For not wanting to send ammunition or weapons. For being appalled at Israel's use of Lavender. But the double standard is very devastating because when 9/11 happened the world mourned with the USA. When Oct 7th happened, a literal pogrom, people literally spit in our faces, shut down universities, scream at us on the streets, fire bomb our synagogues, gang rape our children for being Jewish (happened in France), cheer gas the Jews, you will not replace us, Zionists are rats, kicking us out of cafes, interrogation us to see if we're a "good Jew". Like you don't understand how the atmosphere has changed in North America and how virulently antisemitic its gotten. Our memorials for our dead have to be held in secret. Because people deface them, vandalize them, and show up to protest screaming through a megaphone that we are baby killers while we are crying over our babies being killed. And eighteen year olds are being sent to fight in war in our behalf because every country around our homeland has declared they wish to exterminate us. And that taps into the very real intergenerational pain of the Holocaust.

I've seen protests that look no different than Nazi Germany protests against the Jews. It is wrenching. Most Jews I know have lost their entire friend groups literally over night. Lost their living arrangements. Have professors fail their work if it's about Jewish history. Teach that Zionism means Jewish supremacy and conquering the middle east because we are all from Poland. It hurts. It hurts. And I know that Palestinians are suffering, too. 12,000 innocent people were killed. And I mourn them as much as I mourn my own people. But no one else is going to mourn our dead but us. The world has shown that they cheer when we die. And that hurts.

If I say "I'm grieving the actual people that I PERSONALLY KNOW WHO DIED IN A POGROM" people turn around and scream at me that I am a pedophile rat Zio Nazi genocidaire baby killer. When this first happened I posted the article "bombs fall in sderot" and joked "haha idk if my friends are safe." well my friend wasn't safe. She fucking died.

Ppl don't understand how small the Jewish community is. Whenever Jews meet up we play Jewish geography and we ALWAYS find someone we know in common. When Pittsburgh happened people in my community bc we are conservative Jews too, knew the victims. Ppl I know post about having to go to a bomb shelter all the time, their friends dying in terrorist attacks, experiencing terrorism as children etc these are innocent people who have nothing to do with fucking ben fucking Gvir

My friend is a gdmn [redacted] she deserves to die???? Okay all Americans deserve death because of Iraq. All Russians deserve death because of Ukraine.

Conscription is wrong and we should be protesting against it but no not every Israeli deserves death just as no Palestinian civilian deserves death even tho many of them are radicalized as children to want Jews dead and to join Hamas and get conscripted as well. THIS SUBJECT IS COMPLICATED. and anyone who reduces it to one side vs the other good vs evil is full of fucking shit.

Like I always say the settler colonial language I feel is misguided in some ways because of the whole Israeli population we have 70% Jews, 61% of that 70% were not migrants during waves of Zionist aliyah they were expelled and murdered and ethnically cleansed from Iraq Afghanistan Iran Ethiopia Yemen (every single Jew in Yemen was expelled to Israel) and they literally have no place to go.

Which is why from the river to the sea, means they will end up being literally pushed into the sea lol. And then 20% aren't even Jewish they are Arab, where will they go if Hamas takes over Israel and tries to enact extremist fundamentalist religion when they're used to living in secular democracy? They go into the sea too. Now 31% are European descent of those, many are from Russia which means they were kicked out and not Zionist oleh as well. But then we get into the west Bank where Israeli Jews are literally living as settlers and literally calling themselves settlers and perpetrating violence. The legal terminology of this all is also twitchy. Technically it isn't apartheid because Palestinians aren't Israeli civilians but we cannot ignore Hebron where Israelis literally dump piss and shit and garbage on their heads so they had to build a fucking net. Okay maybe it's not legal apartheid but it's obvious fucking degrading and they are not free to move or work or have the same rights regardless of who is in charge and we need to fix that. We also can say ok it's not a genocide in Gaza bc the numbers suggest of 40k, 12k were civilians according to Hamas themselves giving a 2:1 civ casualty ratio. The normal ratio is 9:1 so it legally cannot be called genocide. But Lavender is indiscriminate targeting civilians and bombing the place to fucking rubble which is a war crime and the Israeli government must be held accountable for this. Hamas does war crimes too they fired 20k rockets per year for 20 years into Israeli residential zones

[10:38 PM] Anyone who reduces this conflict to one side good one side bad is a fucking idiot. There is harm and suffering and complexity on both sides and both sides must be held accountable and then work for peace and prosperity

In conclusion: if you have nothing constructive to say, you can do everyone a favor and shut the fuck up.

[cordyce]

⇢ FOR ALL YOUR ATTENTION

tsu’tey x gn!reader

includes: na’vi!reader. mate tsu’tey. teasing reader. tsu’tey is literally whipped. probably ooc tsu’tey. suggestive (?) themes.

notes: i’ve never written tsu’tey before so be gentle. also not proofread (what’s new?) so don’t judge i beg <;/3

tags: @nanamimizz @ydsm-29 @netesbby @loaksky @citruskasa @vanillawhale

If there is one thing you know about Tsu’tey, it is that he is attentive. Whether that be in the sense of categorizing and keeping tabs on his people, or the doting he does on those he holds dear in private; he is always watching, waiting, basking in the shadows to make sure he knows every detail. You think it partially to be his position as future Olo’eyktan that makes him that way. But you also know it to be just how he is in nature—even if he’d struggle to openly admit that. 

A fatal flaw on his part, maybe. The way he is so devoted to the lives of those around him; how he is so willing to double stack his duties to take care of the needs of his people. Bearing more stress and burden than he should (or more inside knowledge than he has any right to know) because he is simply so keen on ensuring he is not out of the loop with anyone, ever. 

He’s being attentive even now, at this very moment. If that is what you could call spying on Jake and Neytiri from his perch of raised tree roots, partially shielded by the overgrown flora in front of him. It is sweet and terribly endearing how he cares for her, loves her; his want to protect knows no limits. 

Someone else might stir up a smidgen of jealousy at that, but not you. See, even if he had been betrothed to her, you’re conscious of what resides in his heart; what always has. You know that his feelings never crossed that one fine line, no matter how much he’d try to pretend that they did. How much he was willing to sacrifice for the sake of his clan to have strong leaders—willing leaders. It’s commendable. 

Such an admirable act of a man of his caliber, one must admit. 

And it isn’t that he does not trust Jake—because if asked he would have to be honest and begrudgingly attest that he has grown quite fond of the uniltìranyu—but he is just.. wary. Rightfully so. That is a well suited sentiment for these types of situations. Relationships with tawtute, no matter how docile and complaisant they may seem, should always be handled with a lingering sense of fragility. So you understand his urge to leer, his need to observe when he is alone with one of your people. 

It doesn’t mean you don’t find it the slightest bit amusing, though. How he’ll stress and strain over maintaining glimpses. Hearing him scoff when you tease of his meddling is humorous. You enjoy getting to tug on his leg. 

“You are lurking again,” you state, stepping up beside Tsu’tey’s still form on the root, peering through the clearing of brush right along with him. 

And he must have been far more engrossed in his couple watching than you thought (it’s not like you were trying to sneak up on him after all, your steps were not even close to quiet) because he flinches the tiniest, minute bit at the sound of your voice. His head snaps to you and you turn your own to meet his gaze. 

“I am not lurking,” he rebuts, lips dipping downward in a scowl. You can tell he wants to roll his eyes just by the tone of his voice, but he won’t. He’s aware that that gives you satisfaction. 

Little does he know you get satisfaction from that fact alone. 

“Ah, right. Then what would you choose to call this? Spying?” You tip your head, a seemingly innocent gesture but it is nothing of the sort. Playing Tsu’tey is quite effortless when the dice fall into your practiced hands so routinely. “Snooping?”

“That is—” Absurd? Foolish? Whatever word was going to punctuate the end of his sentence dies before it reaches the tip of his tongue. His mouth screws up for a moment, along with the ridges of his brows, and you can tell something about him that is so painfully easy to pick up on. “I do not snoop.”

“Sure you don’t.” 

Your words tilt with a shrug of your shoulders, the leveling of your head. Swiveling back around to look through the brush once again, you have to bite your cheek to fight the smile threatening your lips as Tsu’tey still stays locked on you. It’s a pleasing feeling, knowing you have riled him up so much in less than a minute.

“I do not snoop. Nor do I spy.” He reiterates, says it with authority now. In the same stern voice he uses to talk to the children of the clan and warn them about venturing too far into the depths of the forest without parental supervision. But you are an excessive amount of familiar with him for it to work on you; for it to sway you in the slightest.

If anything it eggs you on. Maybe a small personality flaw; most definitely a little boorish of you. Nevertheless you enjoy it, you think you always will. Because you are the only one who gets to see Tsu'tey like this. Who gets to poke and preen and tease, without worrying if your head might end up on a pike afterwards. (Not that he could stomach ever doing such a thing without a monsoon of reasons, truly, because even behind his ostensibly permanent glower he is just a big hearted fool deep down). 

“I see,” you hum, and his gaze is still boring holes into the side of your skull, “Then you’re just nosy.”

“I am nothing of the sort.” And there it is, the scoff that always comes when you begin to make sport of his tendencies trailing after his detest. You’ve finally got him—successfully sunk your teeth into his throat and dragged him right into your claw toothed trap. 

“Great,” you denounce, then flick your gaze back to that of the agitated man beside you. “Then it will not matter to you to know that Jake and Neytiri snuck out of your sight five minutes ago.”

“What?” Head whirling, eyes shooting wide, he turns back instantly to his break in the brush to confirm your statement.

Your statement that was in fact laced in nothing but falsity and had the sole purpose of exposing him for just how intrusive he is; which worked like a charm, you must add. Jake and Neytiri are still there, of course. Still talking and collecting herbs like they were before. Still enjoying their innocent—albeit sickeningly flirtatious—time together. 

Tsu’tey whips back around to look at you, this time squaring his shoulders to glare at you properly.

“Wiya!” He hisses, but it holds no threat. Just his annoyance, the baseline of frustration. (Probably out of embarrassment for being caught, if the sharp flick of his tail is any indication at all). “What is it that you need?”

You consider him, hold his gaze. There are one of two ways you could go about this and you’re trying to decide which route would be the most entertaining. It becomes clear with each tick of his jaw what option you’re going to settle on, so you begin to pick up the puzzle pieces and place them down methodically. 

“Oh, nothing.” Shrugging as you lace your fingers behind your back, you count your breaths. “Was just seeing what you were up to.”

Tsu’tey, expectedly, does not waver still. “I am busy tending to things.”

“You mean spying?”

“No.”

“Hm.”

After your hum you let another pause take place. Another beat of silence between the two of you. There’s a faint rustling to your right and out of the corner of your eye you see Jake and Neytiri actually gathering their things to leave this time. You wonder if it’s because they heard the two of you or perhaps on their own whim. Regardless, you don’t miss the twitch of Tsu’tey’s ears as he picks up on it too. You’re almost certain his brows knit tighter together, if that is even possible. 

“What do you need, yawne?” He repeats himself, presses once more. 

Yet even on edge, his tongue strikes lovingly. How enthralling of him, how compelling. How can he expect you not to want to toy with him? When he is just so yielding? 

You shake your head. “Nothing.”

Another pass. The noises of the forest fill in your lull. 

“Well,” he huffs, straightening himself out. “If there is nothing you need then you should be going. Like I said, I am busy.”

And you’ve been plotting, scheming, for this perfect time to swing the hatchet down. Tsu’tey has set you up beautifully, honestly. It’s almost like he’s in on it himself. He should know better by now, you think.

“Right, you’re busy.” This time, your words drift off with a deep sigh. Shoulders rising up and dropping theatrically like they’re being controlled by a puppeteer's strings, you turn to leave the same way that you came. You mumble under your breath, but not low enough that the man in your presence cannot hear you as you take your first steps away, “Always so busy. Looking out for everyone. Leaving me be..”

Tsu’tey’s sharp intake of breath might be stifled, but you hear it without a single shred of strain. In less than a second wide strides are being made to close the short gap you’ve created between the two of you. And just as soon as they stop, the unreserved grip of a calloused hand is clutching onto the ridge of your hip bone, pivoting you back around to beset the (now slightly less annoyed) warrior before you.

“Leaving you be?” His voice is tainted with something endearing, something unfiltered. Concern flitters across his strong features and it’s riveting; telling. 

You’ve got him. Right in the palm of your hand. 

“Mhm.” Angling your chin with a nod you turn your eyes downward. Relaxing your shoulders into a defeated slump, posturing yourself to be despondent. “It’s fine, really. I know you are an important man. I should not expect your undivided attention.”

“My attention?” He quirks, and his hand is leaving your hip only to take place on your jaw. He tips your head up but you still keep your gaze averted. It is not time to give in yet. “You have all of my attention, always. Oeyä txe’lan, why would you believe that you do not?”

You bite your tongue. Attentive, heeding; earnest is his expression as he deciphers every twitch across your face. You’d think for a man that is so good at reading you he would be able to tell when you are presenting faux emotions. Yet it’s like his worriment outweighs his fluency of you.

Somehow that’s even more touching.

“Ma (Y/n),” he hearkens, veering into your line of sight until you’re forced to meet his gaze, now. The intensity of his focus has your stomach fluttering, your hands behind your back ringing together. Oh, how you love him. “Tell me, am I being neglectful of you? What is it I have failed to do?”

“I—” His thumb is rubbing against the plane of your jaw. The curve of his lips pushes them out in an adoring pout as he inspects every quiver and crease of your features. 

This was supposed to be a fun little game, one you are used to playing and one you are always in control of. So why does it suddenly feel like Tsu’tey has wiped the gameboard clean and tossed out all the cards? How has he flipped this on you, by simply cracking open his chest and laying his bleeding heart atop the deck? How has he become the game master, with a simple cradle of his palm and the dripping of devoted professions off his tongue?

How is this fair at all?

“Oeyä tìyawn.” My love, my heart; he holds you with such firm care like you are the very muscle that pumps life into his body. Like you are the very essence of his soul, all in all. Like you are his lifeblood—and aren’t you, really? “Do you crave for my attention? Have I not awarded you enough?”

“No.” It’s instant, no hesitation in your deliverance and, somehow, this is not about teasing your lover anymore. Your lungs burn, your internal clock ticks like the time frame of minutes has been cut short. “No, it is not enough.”

Contrition trickles down Tsu’tey’s face like watercolor pathos coating concern by the brush of your velvet tongue. His grip on your jaw softens, his free hand slides across the hollow of your throat until his fingertips bracket the braid encasing your kuru. He steps close; impossibly closer than he was until the beads of his neck piece scrape delicately against your sternum, until his breath fights to contrast the already growing warmth of your blood rushed cheeks. 

You swallow, but it is not enough to stomach the tension clawing up your ribcage. His forehead is just a mere breadth from yours, his nose twitching millimeters from your own. With his ears pressed back and his tail flicking lowly, he envelops every sense a Na’vi can use. 

He debilitates you, wholly and unquestionably. 

“Forgive me,” he presses, and his lips seal yours before you can respond. “Forgive me, paskalin,” he longs as he steals your breath once more, presses his thumb against your pulse point. “Ngaytxoa, Ma (Y/n). May you never want for my attention again. I will grant you anything to prove as such. What do you wish of me?”

“I wish…” It is tasking, trying to catch your breath. He is just so close and just so consuming and adhering. “I wish for you.”

“Me?” He ticks his head, drops a hand in order to slide it down to the base of your spine. “You have me, all of me. Do not be foolish and believe otherwise.”

You blink, regain yourself. Yes, you suppose he is right. You suppose you do have him—all of him—that his actions now prove to supplement that statement. So what is it you really want? What is it you crave of a man who has given you everything even if you bait that he does not? What is the desire that you harbor in your heart, that he has not already graced you with forthright, at the any shallow utterance you muster?

“The day,” you wager, “Spend the rest of this day with me.”

Tsu’tey’s lips cinch to the side for a moment—his duties listing off on the blackboard of his mind, you are sure—but a moment is all he tenses before his foundation gives. He nods, cleaves to your wish. 

“Of course. What would you plan? A hunt? A harvest?”

A fang hooks the corner of your lip and you shake your head. So willing to heed to you but it is not quite right, not quite on script. He has mistaken your petition for something far more innocent than you thought he would; but you suppose you cannot fault the conservativeness of a warrior that holds such merit as he. 

“You mistake me,” you correct, snaking your hands up until they reside over the ridges of his protruding collarbones. “I wish to spend the day with you. Alone. As my mate. Doing that of which only mates are permitted.”

At this, Tsu’tey’s ears flicker; his pupils expand against his will and you take that as your sign of agreement before he even murmurs as such. And his compliance does not run verbal—not fully—other than a gruff rumble of his chest as the hand on his spine drifts to drag against the back of your thigh and hoist you up. Instinctive is the way your legs find themselves winding around his cinched waist. The woven ridges of his cummerbund brush against the insides of your thighs, and it is not an unfamiliar feeling.

Funny, how as lips sear against your own, drift and smear along your jaw and down the curve of your throat until they find refuge on your pulsepoint at which his thumb now retreats, you feel far more innocent than tainted. Perhaps love does that to someone; hides guilt or shame and breeds only purity. Perhaps attention can surely prove to be a cure all, in certain sentiments. 

Whatever it is, you embrace it fully and relish in it with all of your being.

And maybe it distracts you, just slightly, because your tongue grows dangerously loose as you give up your will. You really do prove to be your own betrayer, truly.

“Sau,” you sigh as you tip your head to the side to allow virtuous lips room to roam, “I should tempt you with plight more often.”

Kisses halt and hands tighten where they grip onto you. You realize your mistake just as soon as the last word rolls off your tongue, but you cannot swallow down things already spoken. Fingers still sifted into Tsu’tey’s braids, you peer down as he leans back enough to look up at you. 

“How kawng of you,” he aims, but he grants you no tell of expression.

“And even so?” You ponder, hum as you scratch the base of his scalp. “Will you revoke my request from me? Will you be so cruel as to deny me this?”

“Do not be foolish,” he hearkens, and something twinkles in his eyes as he says it—something twitches at the tilt of his lips. “You will have your day with me, just as you wish.”

“How merciful of you.” And you cannot help the simper that plays at your mouth. Even after fumbling, giving up your original position, you have still seemingly gotten your way. How delightful, this has proven to be.

But Tsu’tey’s fingers delve into the meat of your thigh with a little more pressure. His kisses find their way back to the juncture between your throat and jaw with a little more fervent. His tail brushes against your hooked ankles and you are not foreign to this rhythm of flicks.

“Do not deem me merciful yet, yawne,” he apprises with a nip of your skin. “You wish for my attention? I will grant it. But remember—”

A deep chuckle rumbles against your skin and the heat of his laugh has your stomach boiling with fire-licked butterflies. Your heart skitters, your inhales hitch before they slip out of your throat, as his lips find their way to the shell of your feverish ear. You find yourself bated, waiting, on whatever is to come.

“You asked for all of my attention. So now, you must take it.”

And if there is one thing you know about Tsu’tey, it is that he is attentive. And that is what you are banking on as he carries you further into the forest.

[lmaowatermelon]

Valdangelo Wedding Planning (fic excerpt)

Chaotic wedding planning from an unfinished fic (sharing on tumblr so I don't flood the archive tag)

Just really liked this part, enjoy!

“We are not calling our wedding ‘Hellfire.’” Nico di Angelo said with disapproval.

Leo Valdez sighed and raised his hands in mock frustration. He was sitting at their kitchen table with a laptop open to the New Rome wedding planner website. Nico thought that maybe, just maybe, the planning part of the event would go smoothly with the help of the internet, which wasn’t available when he was younger (alas, he was wrong).

“We need some pizzazz! It’s like a prom theme, you know, to stir up some hype for the big day,” Leo explained.

“Do we really need a big theme?” Nico countered. “Isn’t it fine to just marry you? That’s… already more than I could ask for.”

Leo gazed right at his future husband. He cupped Nico’s cheek with a gentle hand, one that was so warm that the son of Hades melted into his touch. They both understood what Nico meant without words: how he couldn’t have imagined a legal marriage with another man back in the 1930s. Something so simple was already a blessing.

“Okay, okay, no need for a fancy theme. But our guests will still expect some sort of color palette and flowers, that kind of stuff. How about we start there?” Leo offered.

Nico almost nodded in relief, but he would’ve reacted too soon. Leo immediately pulled up a list of poisonous plants to include in the decorations.

“If we just put them far enough away from the guests…” the son of Hephaestus whispered, an evil grin on his face.

Nico leaned over to glance at Leo’s search result. “Belladonna?”

Leo relished in the sudden close contact. He felt some of Nico’s anxiety and stiffness leave his bones when their hands intertwined on their laps. Still, he was feeling mischievous, and he opened up a field of images of the plant in question.

“Neeks, this is the perfect decor for the ceremony. I’m thinking plum, wine red, maybe some gold, and we can throw in some treatable skin rashes for the one unfortunate guest who touches the berries.”

Nico narrowed his eyes and swatted at Leo’s cheek without any force. “You’re not putting rash-inducing plants in the reception room. But we can put fake ones in there if you like them.”

”I like,” Leo said as he pointed finger guns at his fiancé, “how you think, love of my life.”

Nico grinned wider than he had that entire day. The son of Hades could only pretend to be fed up with his partner for so long. He thought Leo’s silliness was comforting when it was coming from a sincere place, and anyway, Leo nailed the color suggestions. But the son of Hephaestus also toned down his jokes regardless when he opened up the page of RSVPs. The sight of all their friends’ names on the ‘going’ list silenced them both for a long while.

“Everyone said yes,” Nico breathed, musing over the columns of text.

Leo squeezed Nico’s hand and gave him a kiss on the cheek. Nico laughed, so soft and small that it was barely noticeable and no less beautiful than a summer breeze.

“Who wouldn’t want to see you glowing on your wedding day? You’re gorgeous,” Leo stated with every bit of seriousness in his bones. “You deserve to be celebrated, Neeks.”

“No, you,” Nico insisted, his face flushed red.

“No, no, I insist,” Leo replied. “Seriously.”

“What a coincidence, I’m serious too. You’re hot. Literally.”

Leo lit a small fire in his palm and moved in to kiss Nico on the forehead. Nico’s rare laugh erupted with happiness from his throat, and Leo stared at him in adoration before he reached out and ran a loving thumb over Nico’s hair, then the corner of his eyes, then his cheek, chin, and lips. The son of Hades stayed still through it all and watched his partner with equal amounts of affection.

“I’m glad I get to marry you, ghost boy,” Leo breathed against Nico’s hair. “I finally feel like I’ve done something right.”

[pedroshotwifey]

Christmas Countdown Day 5 - Fake Dating

Favor

Pairing: Roomate!Marcus Pike x fem!reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Tags/Warnings: no use of y/n, fluffy fluff, smutty smut, oral sex (f), coming untouched (m), subby Marcus, mutual pining, stuff I'm forgetting

Summary: You accompany Marcus as his "date" for his holiday party. By the end of the night, you realize that neither of you want it to be fake.

A/N: Hey, y'all! I'm conflicted with this one so please let me know if it feels rushed or anything, and I'll go back and revise. Tomorrow's prompt involves Javier P. and with likely have smut! Also, I'm thinking about implementing a tag list for the countdown, so let me know if that's something you would like to be included in. Thank you for reading! <3

***

“Are you sure,” Marcus starts to ask for the millionth time. “You really don’t have to–”

“Marcus,” you sigh, annoyance clear in your voice as you roll your eyes. You give him a leveled look from where you sit in the passenger seat. “I already told you a thousand times that I have no problem helping you out. We’re literally almost there anyway.” 

He looks at you and gives a short nod. 

“I know, but seriousl–”

“Marcus!” You flick the side of his head and he shoots you a glare. “I swear to all that is holy,” you start, your tone making him flinch. “If you ask me that question one more time, I’m going to chop your fucking balls off and shove them down your damn throat.” 

You have to bite your lip so as not to let a smile slip when you see him stiffen and widen his eyes. 

“Thank you,” you say smugly. “Now focus on getting us there in one piece, boyfriend,” you tease. You’re too busy shaking your head to see the furious blush overtaking his features. 

He had come to you last night, sheepish and reluctant, asking if you would do him a solid. He made it seem like it was a big deal to ask you, but all he wanted was for you to pretend to be his date for his office party the next day. 

After teasing him a bit about not having an actual date by this point, you had told him that of course you would help, that you’re the best fake-girlfriend to hire within the states. He had thanked you about twenty times, red in the face, before quickly retreating back to his room of your shared apartment. 

You have no idea why he gets so damn nervous sometimes. 

***

You arrive at the office less than five minutes later. It doesn’t look like it should be too crowded, which is a relief–you weren’t looking forward to being smushed in an over-crowded office for the next few hours. Other than that, it’s no big deal.

Marcus, in classic fake-boyfriend fashion, holds to the door for you when you get to the entrance.

“Why thank you, boyfriend,” you say. You wonder when he’ll catch on that the reason you keep mentioning that is because of the look he gets on his face. 

The night goes on smoothly, the both of you playing your parts as a couple perfectly. He laughs at your comments and you kiss his cheek, your hand never leaving his. 

It feels nice to act this way with him, which is something you wish you didn’t notice. It’s hard enough to pretend like you don’t have a crush on your damn roommate–and now that you know how good it could be, well, it’s going to be an impossible feat. 

He introduces you to multiple co-workers as his girlfriend, and you have to suppress your blush every time. 

After a handful of introductions, you inform Marcus that you’re going to go get some fresh air, needing a break from trying not to spontaneously combust. He nods at you but there’s a look of unvoiced concern in his eyes. You do your best to ignore it as you smile at him and slip away.  

You’re only outside for a couple minutes before you hear someone step out behind you. You don’t have to turn around to know that it’s Marcus, coming to check on you. 

Why does he have to be so fucking considerate? You think to yourself with a sigh. He really is perfect boyfriend material, yet you’re too much of a chicken to actually pursue him. 

“You okay, sweetheart?” you hear him ask from behind you. You want to melt when he calls you that–when he calls you anything, really.

“Yeah,” you say, spinning around to face him. “All good.” 

The two of you stand in silence for a moment. 

“You…” Marcus starts, but trails off. You cock your head slightly, prompting him to finish. He licks his lips and blushes. 

“You look beautiful,” he says, averting his eyes for a second. 

You gasp quietly as your stomach flutters. 

You know what? Fuck it. 

You surge toward him and sling your arms around his neck, planting a kiss on his plush lips. He inhales sharply but immediately wraps his arms around you, reciprocating your affection with a hunger that almost surprises you. 

You make out like teenagers until you realize in the back of your mind that you’re still in public. You back away, gasping for breath as the two of you have a silent conversation with your eyes. 

The pure desire in each of your gazes is enough to have you both heading for the car without another word.

***

As soon as you’re through the threshold, Marcus kicks the door shut and drops you onto his bed, your lips only parting when he backs away to unbutton his shirt. He fumbles with the first few and then gets frustrated, pulling the last couple off with a sharp tug. 

He’s still in his white undershirt and dress pants when he sinks down to his knees in front of the bed. In his rush, you didn’t even get a chance to move. He throws your legs over his shoulders and looks up at you while licking his lips. 

“Let me taste you, baby, please,” he begs, borderline whining. The sight of him so submissive and vulnerable for you makes you moan out loud. You thread a hand through his hair and give a tug as you nod. 

“Yes, please,” you gasp. “Go ahead Marcus, eat my pussy.” 

As soon as the words are out of your mouth, he's tugging your skirt up around your hips and delving into your cunt over your panties. He wraps his lips over your clit and sucks as he brings a hand up to prod at your dripping hole over the fabric. 

You moan again at the dual sensations and give his hair another sharp tug. He whimpers but pulls back just enough to slide your panties to the side. In no time, his mouth is back on you, the pleasure more enhanced without the barrier. 

You keen and buck your hips up to his mouth as he licks a stripe up your seam, collecting your slick on his tongue. He switches between that movement, circling your clit, and then pushing his tongue as deep into your pussy as he can. 

You cry out as he uses that technique paired with the movements of his fingers, which go from circling your clit to dipping into your entrance, depending on where his mouth is. He’s more of a whimpering, groaning mess than you are, and it’s an unbelievable turn on. 

He eats you like you’re his last meal, his enthusiasm causing your orgasm to precipice almost immediately. 

“F-fuck, Marcus I-” you don’t get to finish your sentence before he’s shoving a finger into you and sucking harshly on your clit, his teeth brushing the sensitive nub. Your jaw goes slack and your back arches as you cum hard on Marcus’s face. 

He helps you through it, moving his fingers back and forth and keeping suction on the exact spot that drives you wild. 

“Oh, you’re so fucking good,” you tell him through your haze. “S-so good, Marcus.” 

He whines at the praise and keeps his efforts up until you stop convulsing. When he pulls away, his face is full of your cum and…shame? 

You sober up slightly and furrow your brows at his expression. Does he really regret this already?

“Marcus, what’s the matter?” 

He looks away from you but you can see the bright red tips of his ears. After a moment, he mumbles something, but it’s almost incoherent. 

“What?” you ask, sitting up on your elbows. 

“I-” he huffs a breath and stands up, figuring it might be easier to just show you. 

As soon as it comes into view, you register the dark spot covering the front of his pants. Your mouth drops, a small sound spilling out. This man came in his fucking pants from eating you out. 

No wonder he was whining so much, he must have been grinding up against the bed, desperate for some friction on his aching cock. 

He’s adorning an unreadable expression when you let your eyes drag back up to his. It sends a wave of panic through you. 

“No, baby, It’s okay, really,” you say, sitting up the rest of the way and holding a hand out. He takes it, albeit reluctantly, and allows you to drag him toward you. 

You reach up a bit more to plant your lips on his. When you lean back, you look into his eyes. 

“That was perfect, sweet boy,” you assure him. “And don’t worry about…that,” you look down slightly, a ghost of a smile on your lips. When you look back up his expression almost mirrors yours, the humor of the situation really sinking in. 

“We have all night, after all.”

***

Everyone say "Thank you for hosting, @mandoalorian!!"

Link to prompt list

FOTJC Tags @arcanefox207 @redhotkitchen @magpiepills @exquisiteserotonin @sparklefarts38 @pink-whiskey-woman @youandmeand5bucks @legendary-pink-dot @for-a-longlongtime @secretelephanttattoo @morallyinept @beskarandblasters @tightjeansjavi @theywhowriteandknowthings @nerdieforpedro @maggiemayhemnj @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @ghostofaboy @joels-shitty-puns @elvinaa (pls lmk if u don't want to be included for any reason <3)

[jaskierx]

Every time I see some Taika slander on this app, I block. And I don’t even care about him because I have no clue how he is in real life, but I have enough of the bullshit. Taika is a Zionist? Block. Taika’s fault for whatever-pick-anything? Block. Taika is an evil man? Block. Taika doesn’t do enough to promote ofmd? Block. Taika did this and that in his private life? One, how the fuck would you know, random person who lives in Germany? Keep your nose out of his goddamn business. Second. BLOCK. Let’s celebrate Taika’s shows ending one after the other? You guessed it. Block. Someone literally said Taika’s ancestors are rolling in their grave in shame. Bloooocccckkkkk.

I have no words, this is vile. And this public character assassination has gone on for way too long, from medias and randos on the internet alike.

Those people who gloat and say the most horrendous things need to get off their moral high horse, clean in front of their doorstep and go outside to touch some grass. I don’t know why they’re so spiteful but they need to heal their soul. They’re keyboard activists that are looking for trends to be mad about so they can pretend to care and be morally superior. And then they can harass others. They don’t care and they can’t fool me and they can fuck off. Blockity block block block.

God… I got heated real quick. Sorry about that. But for real, I hope he stays the hell away from social media.

yeah i've blocked literally dozens of people in the last 30ish hours and the vast majority are people who have never watched ofmd who decided to go into the tag and post about how happy they are that the 'racist tv show' that's 'run by zionists' is cancelled and 'the zionists' are now 'unemployed'. or people who are casual fans of ofmd who were like 'meh s2 was bad and you could tell taika was bored of it'

it's just so fucking stupid. i hate this whole mentality that people are either 100% perfect and morally pure or they're evil and every bad thing that happens to them should be celebrated. i hate that people are so desperate to blame taika when the show wouldn't fucking exist without him. i hate that people are so confidently stating shit like 'david should've known taika couldn't commit for 3 seasons' like fuck that parasocial ass shit you don't know any of these people! imagine if it was the other way around and the cast started posting shit on twitter like 'lol lyse jaskierx should lose her job bc i can tell she's bored of spreadsheets'. it's ridiculous

[11x13kyle]

have any stupid style headcanons?

oh SO many dude you have no idea

stan will wear the stupidest outfits of all time, go around with his hair unkempt and greasy, have the worst eyebags you’ve ever seen, and kyle will look at him like god…….isn’t he just so dreamy???

they alternate between who cooks and who cleans but by god is stan ALWAYS doing repairs. it’s not just because kyle is lazy (that’s part of it) or that he doesn’t want to get dirty and sweaty (that too) but it’s also that kyle simply has no idea what he’s doing. one time he feels emasculated by the fact that he just sits there while stan does the repairs so he tries to help but he does it so poorly that stan gets pissed and tells him to just let him do it himself, which makes kyle all huffy

stan is in kyle’s phone as “Stan Marsh” and people think he’s a total freak for it. he justifies it by explaining that everyone in his phone is first name last name, even his parents, but that just makes it even more offputting

on that topic, they don’t really do pet names besides the occasionally baby or honey once in a while when they feel really affectionate or the other is in a kind of pathetic state. they mostly call each other by their names or like dude or man. sometimes kyle uses “stanley” as a kind of pet name but he also calls him stanley when he’s really really mad so it’s a bit hard to tell sometimes!

stan gets more jealous than kyle because for all of kyle’s insecurities, he knows stan isn’t going to leave him for some rando. stan also knows this at his core but it doesn’t stop him from getting unbelievably mad when another guy has the audacity to flirt with kyle. he doesn’t even try to hide it either. this isn’t an issue for kyle it makes him twirl his hair and kick his feet almost every time (the only reason for the almost is the times where it’s inconvenient so then it’s just irritating)

stan tries to be a good shiksa boyfriend and participate during jewish holidays, which kyle finds sweet, but he gets SO embarrassed when stan is reading a prayer in front of his parents because his pronunciation is just the worst and it’s basically incomprehensible. he doesn’t blame him, it’s just so so painful and kyle stands there like 😀 the whole time

when they were like 11-15 years old one of their most important intricate rituals was competing over height. kyle was taller than stan for most of those years but there were two occasions where stan outgrew him, and on the second occasion it was permanent because kyle definitely stopped growing by like 14. it was also intensified by the fact that stan was bigger and stronger than kyle, who isn’t exactly weak or anything it’s just. comparatively. the first time kyle notices this he has to fight so hard to pretend like it isn’t making him swoon because having a crush on his best friend is so humiliating.

stan is a vegetarian when he’s an adult but he goes through a two year vegan phase in his early 20s and whenever kyle eats meat he gives him these sad puppy dog eyes about it, which doesn’t actually change kyle’s dietary habits and really just serves to annoy him

stan enjoys working out as a kind of catharsis, mostly like lifting weights and hiking (which has the added benefit of being in nature and giving him the chance to see cool animals) and kyle hates doing this stuff so bad but sometimes he’ll tag along because stan likes it so much that he wants to support him. every time he joins stan on a hike he feels like he’s about to die and it makes him feel like a huge loser because like how is he struggling more with this than his boyfriend who is literally asthmatic. it’s not that kyle hates anything athletic it’s just that what he considers a tolerable form of working out is COMPLETELY different to what stan likes

kyle makes a point to be extremely aware of what’s going on in the world, be it politics, pop culture, or niche internet drama. stan doesn’t give a shit even a little bit. a lot of the time when kyle complains about something some extremely famous person did stan will go “is that a coworker of yours?” and kyle is like ?????no. when kyle explains hyperspecific discourse stan will nod along and smile at him because he doesn’t understand a single word he’s saying but he loves hearing kyle talk

they both like watching football to a certain extent but stan is the only one who actually is invested. kyle only cares if the broncos are close to or actively winning the super bowl, and even then it’s nowhere near as serious as stan takes it. kyle will try to proposition stan in the middle of an important play and stan will move his hands away and go “can’t. i’m watching.” which makes kyle get SO offended

kyle facebook stalks their old classmates and stan thinks this is the actual stupidest past time in the world. every time he does this stan goes “hey dude, have you been outside today? wanna go on a walk?” and kyle says something like “did you see that clyde got divorced again?” and stan goes “kyle, i literally doesn’t care at—wait, really?”

kyle is really controlling of the decor for their house once the two are like actual adults with real jobs. he wants their house to be neat and mostly minimalist and reflect their maturity (save for some photos and cute little tchotchkes) which conflicts with stan’s desire to fill their living space with anything and everything. stan will bring home some shit like a sexy leg lamp or a 6 foot framed and signed poster of john elway and go “living room?” and kyle will screech “NO. ABSOLUTELY NOT GET THAT OUT OF HERE.”

the decor issue is a trauma response to when the two of them shared an apartment with kenny for like 4 years and stan and kenny were allowed creative control, which meant some of the dumbest dude decor ever. it was acceptable at like 22 but by the time they’re 26 kyle is practically begging them to stop

whenever stan and kyle get into a big argument they use comparing each other to randy or sheila to be particularly nasty but they use comparing each other to cartman as like an ultimate trump card. it eventually gets banned because it’s too powerful and that’s not really fair!

[just-another-author-i-guess]

A little collection of fun things Judd does

Tags: fem! Reader, mentions of drugs, alcohol, pyromania?, just Judd things yk, maybe he should be a warning in himself, there’s like one brief mention of sex, generally creepy behavior, Judd being an unironic edge lord, author was sleep deprived

Playlist: I made him a fun little playlist, I tried very hard not to be biased and add songs I actually think he’d listen to instead of just songs I like lol

But! if you’d like to listen to some of Judd’s jams, you can do so HERE

Summary: part 2 to my Judd hc’s, read part one HERE

Author’s note: this,, just came to me. I’ve been taking random thoughts I had about Judd and added them to a docs document, and would you look at that! These hc’s wrote themselves! I think I babygirlyfied him a little bit, but yk what? He is my baby girl 💪

Just Judd things

Word count; 1,9K

Judd birch is known for many things, one of them being his smell

He always smells a bit.. funny

Not bad, just kinda like raccoons and alcohol, it’s an interesting smell

Often he also smells like some kinda polish, either because he’s been polishing his car or his knives

I’m sorry if I ruin y’all’s illusion, but he DOES NOT shower unless absolutely necessary

He only really showers if someone (probably you or his mom lol) tells him to, or if he had a particularly sweaty workout

Also, he would never admit this but sometimes he showers just to impress you

Always carries that certain Judd musk yk

He’s also one of those guys who washes their face like once every full moon but somehow still has flawless skin

If you ever convinced him to let you do his eyeliner, he would also not wash it off, just let it sit there and bake unless you washed it off for him

Anyways

Judd is mean as hell, a gaping asshole in his own words

But, he does respect his family somewhat

Even loves them a bit, if he’s being completely honest

Especially Diane

He holds a strong sense of respect for his mom, way more than his dad

It’s not like he’s gonna stop making low key misogynistic jokes for shits and giggles, but he often tries to dial back the cursing in front of her

Like he values her opinions and praise of him the most out of his family

He’s also super protective, mostly of his younger siblings

Like I mentioned before, he definitely has that kinda “edgy” humour

The guy probably says a lot of controversial stuff just to get a reaction

He literally pretends not to be a feminist just to piss off leah

(In reality, he genuinely doesn’t give one single shit about feminism)

Likewise he also just disagrees with whatever his family says just because they said it

But he will not hesitate to physically or verbally beat anyone who starts shit with his siblings

Forget all about is asshole-ness and such, he will obliterate anyone who hurt his siblings

Only he’s allowed to fuck with them lol

When he told Nick “you’ll die when I say you die” he really meant it

He actually also values the raccoons quite a bit

When he goes on his drunken rambles, they’re always there to listen yk

He has friends,, kinda, like he has people he tolerates more than others but he honestly doesn’t mind doing things alone

He enjoys his own company

But also the raccoons

It’s like a mentally unstable girl and her support cat, Judd just has his gang of raccoons

(He tells them all his secrets)

I feel like he would genuinely enjoy the company of an animal way more than people, not limited to raccoons

But he’s not nice to them, he’s never nice to anyone he cares about

He’s just doesn’t grasp the idea, being nice verbally means nothing to him

He’s a man of physical and action-based affirmations

It’s the little things that counts for him

Unless he knows someone who values affirming words, ect his family or girlfriend, he will very rarely go out of his comfort zone to grant them such

He’s so awkward verbally stating his feelings too omg,,

“Dad.. I.. love you..?” He’s like that each time he tries to come across as sincere, it’s like he’s questioning it as he’s speaking lol

He was like that as a kid too, he’s always just enjoyed creeping people out

He takes pride in his weirdness

The guy is very morally grey, the only thing he truly wants ever is the cause chaos

Or inflicting stress/pain on his siblings somehow

He doesn’t rough Leah up like he would with Nick, but he knows just how to get into her head

That’s another thing, he knows everyone’s business

Literally

Between hiding in the vents, being the designated dealer in town and generally the quiet kid in school, he knows what everyone’s up to

Even Nick and Leah’s friends

Knows all their names too

His parents definitely took him to a psychiatrist when he was younger, he was a very difficult child to deal with

Think gremlin meets Chucky

That’s baby Judd

His parents supported him though, and still do

Elliot especially tries to take interest in whatever Judd likes, bands, movies, setting things on fire, ect

Also, music wise, I think he’d really like the misfits

Probably also three days grace and oooh, definitely rob zombie

He just strikes me as that kinda guy

But also, he doesn’t know shit about the hands he listens to

He doesn't care enough to get into the people behind the music, you could literally ask him who’s in the band who wrote his favourite song and he wouldn’t know

Takes the term “separate the art from the artist” to a whole new level

If he doesn’t listen to music, he’s the type of dude to literally put “horror movie ambience” or “pov you’re getting murdered asmr” on or whatever the fuck

Also, he’s the type to strictly listen to music on YouTube, with adds because he doesn’t want to pay

He only has burner phones anyways, so he has to listen to music on his computer or whatever, he has a shit ton of obscure cd’s in his car though that he listens to as well

And on the topic of phones, because of his less than usual choice, literally no one has his number

Probably only Leah has his number? I feel like he’d only give it to her and maybe his girlfriend if you’re lucky

Leah has to text him like “mom says dinner is ready in 10” or “dad told me to text you to please come home soon” stuff like that, and she’s so done with it

He somehow has everyone’s number though

You’ll randomly get a text if he needs you, and he never tells you who it’s from

He will literally text you “I’m in your house” without any disclosure

Maybe he’ll add a few blurry pictures of something in your house as well

Oh but if he’s actually trying to scare you, expect pictures he took of rotting roadkill or a bloody ziplock back or something he found

He just loves gore and violence <3

Another thing he really, really, enjoys is scaring people

He deliberately hides behind doors or curtains to scare his family, he’s also really good at just being super silent?

If he doesn’t want to be found, you’re not gonna find him

If you sleep over at his house and use the bathroom by his room to brush your teeth, the fucker will be standing behind you in the mirror when you come up from rinsing your mouth

He scares those he cares about, what can I say

Well he also scares everyone else, he’s kinda feral

As I said before, it’s not like he doesn’t socialise at all, bc like, he’s literally everyone’s dealer

Idek where he gets his stuff from, but everyone knows Leah and Nick as Judd’s little siblings because they have bought from him one time or another

Not only limited to drugs, he also always has alcohol

(He robbed a liquor store)

Somehow they never found out it was him?? Even though it’s exceedingly obvious and he keeps doing it every other week or so

Some of your dates casually turns into “hey let’s rob a store” and it’s actually so chill

As a consequence of his never ending supply of Jack Daniel’s, he’s like chronically hung over

Always kinda tired and complaining that his head hurts

Literally has a hangover 6 out of 7 days of the week

He also has a bit of a pyromaniac streak

Sometimes buildings in town just sorta,, burn down

I feel like people in town know it’s Judd, but the police force is actually useless so again, he never gets caught

Actually he got caught once, because he was high and accidentally left a lighter at the crime scene

It was before he turned 18 though, so he got no major consequences besides like a night in jail and being grounded for a really long time

I imagine that might have been why he ran away? Man’s didn’t want to deal with the aftermath of his own consequences

He actually really likes consequences of things, just not when it actually turns out to be inconvenient for him

But like, he’s really fascinated by watching things slowly unfold if yk what I mean

He’s quite a patient guy, he literally had the patience to train a whole ass battalion of raccoons

But my point is, he can wait a long periods of time while plotting his sinister plans

He’s a supervillain at heart fr

And as I said before, he exists to cause chaos

I feel like he would literally worship the chaos theory, and he would definitely mansplain it to you

Judd doesn’t believe in god, but he believes in the chaos theory

That’s probably why he’s so into horror, but like a certain kind

He doesn’t really care too much about paranormal or psychological horror

He still watches it, but it’s just not his favourite

What he really loves, is the gorefests

Murderporn if you will

He lives and breathes bloody slasher movies, where people get pointlessly murdered left and right

Literally the more gritty the better

Especially if it’s one of those where all the women gets murdered with their tits out

Horror movies makes him horny help—

No but actually, he’s so annoying to watch them with, because even if it’s a movie he likes HE WILL NOT STOP COMMENTING

starts muttering every other minute about how that flesh wound is not realistic and how it would actually look

How does he know this? You don’t want to ask

But back to the horny part, if you’re dating him, you almost always fuck to horror movies instead of music

If Judd puts on a horror movie, yk what he’s initiating

It’s either that, or he lets you choose the music in his car

Two very subtle, but yet very clear demands of what he wants

Another thing, he loves when you scratch him up

On his chest, on his back, anywhere

Just having those long, red nail marks on his skin does stuff to him

The same with leaving marks on you, he’s so into it

He needs you to be absolutely as bitten and bruised up as you can possibly be

And it doesn’t limit to you, no, no please, bite him back

He’ll love it

(People around you are slightly concerned)

Now I’ve just listed a bunch of things he likes, but like whatever he’s doing, he’s gonna seem super indifferent

He’s just,,, always scowling

My man’s not coded to show joy

Wait okay no, but like he can smile, it just looks unnatural lol

Sometimes, he even laughs (mainly when others are in misery)

But generally, he’s just pretty stoic

And also, he doesn’t truly have that many opinions on stuff

He literally doesn’t care, but that’s kinda expected for someone who’s biggest wish is to go permanently off the grid

Like, he could be delivered the deadliest insult ever, or see a house burning down or something and he would still be like ._.

It takes quite a lot to get him to move his face muscles, is what I’m saying

Generally, it’s gonna take a lot to get him to care about anything

Wow 🤩 more judd headcannons

These were a bit pointless ig, but I enjoyed making them haha, I hope you enjoyed it! And if you listened to the playlist, I hope that was alright too 💪

Tags: @dlfvrr @bxbyyyjocelyn