#this is south of a reservation just barely outside of it

[aisling-saoirse]

Petroglyphs in Utah - May 20th 2023

[orphicsun]

Rosemary (e.w): Part One

"𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭 𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐧, 𝐢 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬."

content / warnings: jackson ellie / fem newcomer reader, loser! ellie, the majority of tlou has not happened (joel and jesse are still alive), mentions of joel (will be in part 2), mentions of cat, jesse and dina are romantically involved, near-death situations (patrol gone wrong), mild violence, slight angst with comfort, lots of swearing, eventual smut (in part 2).

word count: 4.4k

link to part two ( status: unfinished)

Description: Newcomers come and go through Jackson, and Ellie doesn’t pay any of them much thought. However, she catches a glimpse of you. You’re the exact opposite of her, soft and sweet like cotton candy (if that were a thing in Jackson). Now she feels 14 all over again, palms clammy and freckled face hot when you’re around. When you’re not, she buries her face into her pillow and hopelessly pines. Jesse and Dina just won’t let her fumble, though.

Ellie locks the stable door behind her, the creaking of the hinges accompanying her huff. As usual, Ellie is quite sweaty and admittedly cranky after a patrol that lasted longer than it should’ve.

She and Jesse spent hours clearing out a portion of the town North of Jackson, only to find the ammunition cabinets empty and the pantries bare. To come back almost empty-handed leaves Ellie in a particularly sour mood, and now she is in no state to deal with another social interaction for the day. No offense to her best friend Jesse, but he can be annoyingly talkative on the longest days. 

“Hey, have you heard about the new group who just arrived?” Jesse’s voice snaps Ellie out of her own thoughts, and she shrugs. She walks alongside Jesse back to the weaponry to store their pistols. 

“Yeah. What about them?” Ellie has never understood why everyone makes a big fuss out of new arrivals. Jackson gets plenty of travelers. Besides, folks stay and folks go. She won’t be surprised if the entire group is headed South by tomorrow morning.

Jackson isn’t for everyone. It’s mainly for the type of people Ellie is–fine with the harsher, okay with hours of stressful patrols, and usually content to kick infected ass. Also secluded, far from larger settlements that remind her too much of a QZ. 

“There’s a girl. Maria is sayin’ she’s around our age, too.” Jesse informs her.

Ellie snorts at that, shaking her head. “So?” She opens the door to the weaponry, unloading her pistol and storing the gun on the wall alongside his. 

Jesse gives her a ‘what do you mean, so?’ look, and almost laughs at her attitude. He knows that she is more reserved when it comes to new people. Really, people in general. For the longest time, the circle was Jesse, Dina, and Ellie. Like a holy trinity that Cat occasionally popped into before departing when she and Ellie broke up. Ellie has never needed more social interaction than her friends, Joel and Tommy, and maybe a girlfriend. The only problem is that she has the social skills of an incel when it comes to women, save for the fact that most incels were taken out on breakout day. 

“We had new people just last month. What’s so special about these?” 

Jesse rolls his eyes as they walk out of the weaponry, holding the door open for Ellie despite her bitterness. “I was just informing you, jeez. What’s with the pissy mood?”

Ellie sighs, pausing outside of the building. “My bad. Just..didn’t get a lot of sleep last night, and patrol didn’t help.”

Jesse raises an eyebrow. “Were you up on that PlayStation you’ve got in your mancave?”

“For the last time, it’s not a man cave,” she speaks with light disapproval in her tone.

Jesse laughs at his friend’s attitude, enjoying teasing her. “Right. Well, you go home and get some damn rest. I’m tired of dealing with your cranky ass on patrol.” He pats her shoulder, giving her a small wave before walking towards his house.

Ellie sighs and mumbles a “whatever” before turning in the other direction and heading for the small garage she has behind Joel’s house, looking forward to sleeping until she is forced to get up in the morning. 

-

Patrol is early, earlier than usual. Luckily, Ellie got plenty of sleep the night before. In her straight jeans and (against Dina’s advice to not risk hypothermia) canvas sneakers, everything is ready, and she feels lighter this morning. Not in a particularly grumpy mood, she walks down the streets to find Jesse. She is a tad bit confused–usually, Jesse is knocking at her door on patrol mornings. She grumbles under her breath at the thought that he is probably at the Tipsy Bison on some cheesy breakfast date with Dina. As much as she loves the two, she hates third-wheeling. Things are already awkward as it is. 

Ellie gets stuck in her mind as always, until a particular view cuts the thought train. There you are, in a pen filled with baby sheep, giggling and petting behind their ears. It’s an overwhelmingly sweet sight, something Ellie would usually find herself thinking of with disgust. Too sweet, like a tooth-rotting confection. But that’s not the case here, no. 

Ellie has seen plenty of pretty girls in Jackson. What is it that makes her hands clammy, and causes her face to redden in pure embarrassment? Her cheeks are so hot you could fry eggs on them. She’s embarrassed to be herself next to a pretty girl. You’re sweet and soft, and you remind her of peaches or a fluffy cake. But really, the thing that truly gets her isn’t the sheep or the way you smile at them in a way that makes even Ellie feel safe around you. It’s that outfit. 

Something she would find in a damn magazine for girls. Ellie would find herself thinking that wearing cute, feminine outfits is just dumb. In this world, where anything can happen, why wouldn’t you go for the practical? Why lace yourself up with soft frills and pink hues? You can’t run in a skirt. But looking at you, how the fabric seems to be made for you, she finds herself wondering how soft it is (and how soft to the touch you are). 

You’re the type of girl Ellie could see herself writing shitty journal entries about, your initial next to hers. You’re the type of girl she imagined tasting when she practices kissing her hand. You’re everything she needs in a daydream she could never confess to anyone else.

And then, the moment is over just before she could introduce herself to you. 

“Earth to Ellie? Whatcha staring at?” Jesse asks from behind her, causing Ellie to quickly turn around. 

“Nothing. Let’s just go.” Ellie’s voice doesn’t hide her defensiveness, and Jesse notices your figure a little bit away. He has a knowing smirk on his face, and Ellie groans. “C’mon, I’m not-”

“Didn’t say anything,” he points out with a surrender. 

The patrol goes normally. Kill infected, raid for supplies, endure Jesse’s dirty jokes. The only difference is, Ellie feels the need to ask about you on the way home.

Mounted on horses, Ellie decides to speak up. “Hey..do you know anything about that new girl?” 

Jesse shrugs casually. “She’s good friends with Dina already.” Ellie nods. Dina is the most social out of the trio, so it makes sense. 

“Is she nice?” Ellie asks, taking a small glance at Jesse. 

“Why? Interested in her or something?” Jesse replies, slightly smiling. It’s clear that he enjoys the fact that he knows how to get to her. 

Of course, she scoffs, raising her defenses. “No! Why do you think that?”

He laughs, eyes roving over her face. “Well, your cheeks are red. That’s the first sign. Secondly, you keep interrogating me over this chick.” 

Ellie sighs and looks down at Shimmer’s mane, trying to focus on something other than Jesse’s stupid face so that she can admit it. “Yeah, maybe I think she’s pretty cute. But she’s probably straight, so it doesn’t matter,” she mumbles quietly. 

“You’re such a pessimist, Ellie. You don’t know what she is.” He reminds Ellie, tone laced with tough love. 

“Yeah, well, how am I supposed to?” She asks though she doesn’t expect an actual answer. 

Jesse almost laughs at that. “By asking her?”

“What?! I can’t just ask if she likes girls! What if she gets offended?” 

“Dude, chill. I mean, just talk to her. Don’t you have a gaydar or somethin’?” He quips, making her crinkle her nose in protest.

“Yeah, right. All gays can just sense each other.” Ellie says with a half-hearted glare.

Jesse sighs. “Look, why don’t you just ask her to that summer festival thing? You know, the one with the dance?”

Her eyes widen at that. “A dance? That sounds like a nightmare.” 

“You are a lost cause,” he says as he rolls his eyes. 

It was around 7 p.m. when Ellie and Jesse made it to the gates. Ellie sighs outside of the Tipsy Bison. 

“Do I have to come in with you?” Ellie asks while already knowing the answer. 

“Yes! I need one of those cheesesteaks for dinner, and you could use some grub other than whatever is in that pathetic fridge of yours.” Jesse says, giving Ellie a smirk that suddenly sends her stomach feeling uneasy. He knows something she doesn’t. The only other time Ellie was given that look was the day before Jesse put a corn snake in her garage house as a “prank” for her 17th birthday. Still, Jesse is right. All she has in that mini fridge of hers are leftovers and a pack of instant rice. Her stomach growls in contrast to her protests.

“Ladies first,” Jesse teases, holding the door open for her.

Ellie sighs, feeling a bit cranky as usual at the end of the patrol, but walks into the building. She finds herself immediately freezing at the sight of you there beside Dina, laughing at an inside joke and munching on cheese fries. 

“Oh my god, fuck me.” Ellie curses under her breath. She can already feel the heat rising to her cheeks, pink mixing within the freckled surface. She just hopes that you won’t notice. 

“Don’t be a wimp, go say hi.” Jesse orders lightly behind Ellie, pointing to the area where you’re seated. Ellie swallows, and her boots feel almost like bricks on her feet. Jesse rolls his eyes, practically dragging her over to Dina and you. 

You seem to look up from your meal, eyes scanning over her. She feels like she is being evaluated. God, you must be thinking about how awkward she looks. She can feel her hands get all sweaty like they did when she first laid eyes on you, and her hands shake. She tugs her jacket sleeves down and nearly expects the worst. 

“Hi!” You smile, and you tell Ellie your name. All of the anxiety bubbles into a mix of dread and something giddy. Dread, because she can’t function properly around the one girl who makes her nervous as fuck. Giddiness, because you’re so sweet and lovely and pretty and kissable-

“Hi.” She manages to croak out, struggling to make eye contact. Fuck, how do I look at her? Do I focus on one of her eyes or can I blink and look away? I could wink. Oh, hell no. Don’t do that, Ellie. Instead tries to force an extremely nervous smile onto her face. “Name’s Ellie.”

“I know.” You simply say, still smiling slightly before stabbing a couple of fries with a plastic fork. There is some awkward silence before Dina fucks up Ellie’s momentum with the most nerve-wracking conversion starter. 

“Ellie here has a tattoo.” She brags to you, gesturing to Ellie’s arm. Your eyes light up, and you turn towards her. 

“Really?! I’ve always wanted one, but my parents would kill me.” You say excitedly. “Can I see?” 

Ellie quickly nods, a little flustered with the attention thrown onto her. She shimmies her jacket off, leaving her in a pale blue sweater. Pulling the sleeve up to her elbow, she shows you the moth and fern inked into her skin. You scooch to the edge of the booth, closer to her, and she swears she can smell your perfume. Something sweet like vanilla, perhaps? It just reminds her of cake and whipped frosting. Her mind is suddenly less focused on your eyes roving over her arm, and more on wondering how you taste. She realizes how shitty that is and quickly tries to back out of her thoughts, but she looks down to find you looking up at her expectantly. 

“Ellie here zones out 24/7, don’t mind her,” Jesse informs you, trying to push the sudden agenda he and Dina have going on. Ellie is practically burning right now. The air in the room feels limited, and the clashing of dishes in the background that she suddenly can’t seem to tune out isn’t helping. Ellie suddenly clears her throat, pulling away and putting her jacket back on. 

“Woah, where are you going?” Dina asks, not paying attention to the obvious nerves emitting from her friend. 

“Gonna go home and take a shower,” is all Ellie can find herself saying before making a beeline for the door. 

The air is humid, but it isn’t much different from what Ellie felt inside. Ellie sighs, leaning against the wall. She really fucked tonight up. You were so sweet and inviting, and all she could do was tremble like a leaf and say a few boring words. Not only that, but you probably think that she is rude now, just walking out right after meeting you. She just hopes your feelings aren’t hurt in any way. 

-

The universe officially hates Ellie Williams. 

There, in bold letters, are the patrol assignments for the week. The paper is pinned to the corkboard outside of the town hall. This morning, with you? Ellie can’t tell if she wants to cry or laugh. Either way, she is dreading today. 

“Hey, partner!” You greet her, clearly in a cheerful mood. She wants to kiss the corner of your lips on both sides just to feel your smile against her lips, but she is way too much of a pussy for that. Plus, you could be straight. You’re probably straight. 

Ellie has to process how fast you found her, but when she wraps her head around it and finally can think of a coherent thought, it’s a confused one. 

“Uh, hey..aren’t you new here?” She asks, scratching the corner of her mouth. 

“Yeah. Tommy said you would be helping me out with our patrol today?” You told her, watching Ellie’s face grow from confused to almost panicked. “I can find a new partner if you don’t-”

“No!” She basically shouts at you, visibly cringing when people nearby stop to look at her. “I just mean, it’s fine. I just haven’t trained anyone in a long time.” 

“Right. Well, we better head out then, huh? I was warned that the trail Maria gave us is one of the longer ones.” You say, looking at Ellie for a response. 

Ellie doesn’t know what it is about you, but you make a conversation feel like a trip down to the first ring of hell. Even thinking that may be rude, and she curses her thoughts, but you’re pretty and kind. Ellie is a sweaty, awkward loser. She knows it must probably be hell for you to have to talk to her, too. 

She swallows, nodding. “West trails go on for a while, but it’s fine. We’ll make it back to Jackson before night.” 

You smile and nod in response, seemingly unbothered by her odd behavior as you follow her to the stables. 

One thing about horse riding is that it is one of the most calming activities Ellie has available for her. Even when Jesse or Dina yaps her ears off, she finds peace on the back of a horse. After a long, stressful patrol, Ellie can always have a bit of respite with Shimmer. A girl with plenty of nerves can surely calm herself with the feel of coarse hair, accompanied by a comforting neigh. However, on this particular patrol, nothing about the horse ride along the Western trails is peaceful, or even tolerable. 

Your soft chest is pressed up against her back. Even through the thickness of her hoodie, she can feel your rapid heartbeat. Her mind wanders–not to filth, but pure curiosity for you. If she were to confess, you’d surely find her obsession with you to be weird and possibly creepy. She just can’t help but wonder what makes your heart race so fast, though.

Are you not used to riding horses? It could be possible that in past experiences, you just had to walk from place to place. That doesn’t make sense, though. You have a family, don’t you? Your parents came with you, and there is no way you all just walked from the middle of nowhere to Jackson with just–

Ellie’s internal rambling ceases when she feels your arms, currently wrapped around her waist, squeeze her. Suddenly is she so conscious of the fact that your palm must be able to feel her stomach expand and falter with each breath she takes? That means you know how uneven her breathing is. You probably don’t ramble in your head about Ellie’s stupid lungs, though. 

“Sorry. I’m just trying not to fall off of this huge thing.” You say, and Ellie can hear the hint of fear in your voice. It makes her heart jump, and a strange feeling of protectiveness enters her system. She stops herself from showing it though, not wanting to scare you away from her.

“This huge thing?” She questions, never hearing that term used for a horse before. 

“Yeah, yeah!” You laugh softly, the sound music to her ears. “I just have an irrational fear of falling off of horses, okay?”

“Fair. I’m just, uh.” Ellie trails off, trying to find her train of thought as it keeps slipping through her grasp. “I’m used to horses, bein’ here in Jackson for a while.” 

Your hands are warm, resting against her stomach. She can feel the heat through the fabric of her shirt. 

Through the nerves bubbling up in her stomach like the usual acid, she finds the courage to take one hand off of Shimmer’s reins. It finds your hand, giving you a comforting squeeze. She is half-expecting you to be uncomfortable with her action, but to her surprise, you let out a soft sigh. 

Like music to her ears. 

-

Ellie is still tying Shimmer up as you scope out the area. Her hands are sweaty from the contact with yours, and her heart is beating through her chest so fast it almost hurts. 

The sudden croak stops her in her tracks, her head turning towards you. You’re stepping back and nearly tripping over yourself to scramble away from a clicker, the gross-looking creature emerging from a hole in the fence you were just studying. 

“Shit!” Ellie grits through her teeth, her feet carrying her fast. 

Ellie has always been on a sort of adrenaline through every patrol she goes on. She has good instincts. She works well under pressure. For some, thinking so impulsively can be fatal. For Ellie, it’s just natural–how she was raised. 

Ellie fights for reasons other than survival, however. Her own life isn’t always plugged into the equation along with the actions she takes. However, her mind flashes with a thought: what if I died right now? Would she be able to defend herself?

And suddenly, her life means everything. The fight becomes more intense. 

Her hand harshly grips the creature’s jaw, tilting it upward to plunge her switchblade into its throat. It lets out a blood-curdling yell and falters. She lets its body drop and rushes toward you without another thought to the corpse a few feet away. 

You’re on the ground, tears brimming your sweet eyes. The adrenaline rush still courses through her body as her eyes scan your body for any sign of a bite. 

Not again, please. Not after what happened. 

A relieved gasp leaves her when she realizes you’re safe. She looks over your face, and her chest aches when she sees the fear in your eyes. 

“You’re okay. It’s all okay, it’s dead.” 

You only nod in response, not trusting your voice at the moment. Ellie doesn’t mind. She crouches in front of you, fingers stroking through your hair, coaxing you to calm down. The only sounds left in the area are your quiet sniffles and the wind blowing through the trees behind you. 

During the ride back to Jackson, you clutch onto Ellie just as tightly as the first time. 

-

The summer festival. The small group that plans social events in Jackson hosts one every year in July. Ellie has always preferred winter when she could layer up her body and subtly admire Wyoming mountain ranges on lookouts. Summer is hot and filled with mosquitos, but Dina and Jesse love the summer festival, so Ellie goes every year. 

The summer festival always left Ellie overwhelmed. She gets sweaty in her flannel, couples love to swap spit in the lines for face paint, and little kids get especially loud after sugary treats. The worst part? They include a dance along with it. The majority of Jackson dancing with each other accompanied by hot weather is as much of a nightmare as it seems. It isn’t Ellie’s ideal Friday night, especially when she could be at home strumming her guitar, or even just asleep. 

“She’s going to the festival with us, by the way.” Jesse grins, leaning against Ellie’s front door. 

“Oh, great,” Ellie says, a failed attempt at sarcasm. In all actuality, her pulse races when she pictures dancing with you.

Jesse laughs. “Dude, don’t act like you haven’t been daydreaming about her every day since that patrol.” 

“Sure.” Ellie rolls her eyes. “It’s not like I’m in love with her or anything. I just think she’s cute.” Even admitting that causes embarrassment to plague her cheeks, however.

“That is exactly how it starts, smart one.” 

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Ellie asks, voice thick with exasperation. 

“It starts with a ‘oh, she’s just cute.’ And then before you know it, you’ll be wearing matching ugly Christmas sweaters with her every year, just like me and Dina.” Jesse says.

“Oh, for god’s sake. I’m not whipped like you are. I just think she’s pretty, and I wouldn’t mind getting to know her.” She explains. 

“And she wouldn’t mind getting to know you, either.” 

“Oh my god, will you stop talking in riddles for five minutes?” Ellie groans, lightly smacking his shoulder. “Can’t you just..say what you mean?”

“I mean that she’s been gushing about you ever since you saved her. Something about a patrol and you comforting her. She has this crush on you, it’s adorable.” Jesse tells her, a grin on his face. 

Ellie’s heart skips a beat. So you like her, too?

“Like I said before, you gotta ask her to be your plus one,” Jesse suggests. 

The thought of spending her night with you instead of being the festival’s wallflower seems appealing. Even more appealing than just staying in like a recluse. Still, her nerves nag at her. 

“Are you sure I should? Isn’t she already going with us?” Ellie asks with uncertainty in her tone. 

“Yeah, but you want to make it clear you at least want something to do with her, right? If you don’t talk to her, she’ll think it’s just a friendly thing.” 

“True,” Ellie mumbles. 

“So do it. Go talk to her.” Jesse urges. 

“Jeez, okay. I don’t have to right away.” 

-

Joel has always conveyed the importance of gift-giving. He is a man who isn’t the best with his words. He bottles it up so easily and explodes just the same. Ellie has the same habit, so she uses that advice–gift-giving. 

Joel himself has given plenty of gifts and services. He’d gifted Ellie with her first guitar. He made sure she didn’t go without a nice meal when she holed herself up in her room after her and Cat’s breakup. That voice is simply lodged in her head after the amount of times she has had to hear him say it. 

“How are you doin’, kiddo?” 

Gifts come in all shapes and sizes. Some gifts are the ones you think thoroughly about before you offer them. Some are unintentionally impactful, the type you keep with you for years after, even if the person who gave it to you doesn’t realize what it means to you. 

Ellie likes to think gifts can be physical, too. You can give a kiss or a hug, and that proves the notion that certain gifts are special to certain people. You’d want to be given a kiss from someone you romantically love. 

Ellie thought it over before knocking on your door. She heard things about what people had given their love interests before the apocalypse. As Joel said, bouquets and candy were cheesy but it worked. Ellie doesn’t have a local grocery store, however, unless you count the one with its workers being infected and its interior neglected, surrounded by overgrowth. 

Ellie isn’t much of a baker, either. Her garage home’s oven is sparsely used, her microwave in favor; the previous night, her oven was used. Three times, actually. Two times resulted in charred, burnt remains of what was supposed to be a cake. The third time, Ellie put her dignity aside and went to Joel for help, and she reluctantly let him in on her intentions. 

So here she is, in her red flannel that doesn’t have any holes in it and a pair of boot-cut jeans, painfully styled with crusty Converse. She knocks at your door, a container with a vanilla cake in the other. 

Ellie’s eyes fill with hearts when your head peeks out. You open the door wider when you recognize her face, and your eyes naturally trail down to the item in her hands. 

Ellie clears her throat. “Uh, brought you something.” 

And of course, you’re already smiling ear to ear. “Yeah? What’d you bring me?” 

Something as sweet as you. That is what Ellie thinks, but instead, she gives the blunt, not unkind answer. “Cake.” 

Ellie holds out the container for you, and you accept it without hesitance. For just a split second, she feels the warmth of your fingertips as they brush against her rough, calloused ones. And then for another second, she lets herself dwell on her deepest thoughts–she wishes she could intertwine her fingers with yours and know what it’s like to be loved by the sun herself. 

“Also–” Ellie scratches her lip, trying not to sputter out her thoughts. “Since Dina and Jesse are going to be all over each other at the festival, I was thinking we could hang out. If you don’t mind.”

You beam as brightly as the sun. “Yeah! And thanks for the cake, Els.” 

Els. That name has her face hot and her hands clammy. She just stares at you for a moment, giving a nod and as polite a goodbye as she can manage before she heads back to her garage house to think of the fact that you just called her the cutest thing you could possibly call her. 

Els it is, then. Els is taking you to the summer festival tomorrow. 

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[stitch-away]

ཐི༏ཋྀ󠀮 day 4 - welcome to the qz ཐི༏ཋྀ󠀮

pairing: joel miller x reader (gender unspecified)

summary: you bring joel to the qz for a much needed shower. but everything goes south

tags: MDNI no smut but there's nude joel + slight grinding, feral joel miller, fluff, angst, hurt comfort, canon typical violence, descriptions of violence, animal death, blood, ptsd, amnesia, grunty joel bc he can't speak

word count: 5.7k

series: feral joel miller

a/n: i wanted to finish this chapter ages ago but midsem break ended so i'm back on the study grind <//3 the reader's gender is not mentioned. it's kind of implied to be male reader but like barely. i plan on it getting more explicit etc so then it will probably become male reader. but for now it's gn

your chest feels tight, your laboured breathing bringing your mind out of its slumber. as soon as you wheeze you feel the pressure immediately lifted. large hands grab your waist and you’re flipped onto your back. your head smacks against the ground, throwing your eyes open. you’re met with panicked brown eyes, a mere inch from your face. joel. 

last night hits you, as does the stench that lingers on joel. he let you stay with him. or, more accurately, he was not letting you leave him. 

he nudges his head forwards, eyes still wild with fear. he tightens his grip on your waist, letting out a soft grunt. 

“joel,” you smile, bringing a hand up to ruffle his hair, “you were crushing me, weren’t you? that’s okay. i’m alright.” with that reassurance, joel pulls you up into his arms, holding you suffocatingly tight as he lets you pet his hair. he lets out a low purr, nuzzling his nose into your neck and inhaling your scent.

“good morning to you too,” you giggle, running both your hands through his hair. as you feel the grime and dirt in his hair, you remember what you wanted to do for him next. “your hair’s a little grimey, buddy. how about i take you back to my place? we’ll get you a shower and clean some of your clothes, yeah?” 

joel stiffens, his purring halting as mind processes the idea of heading into the qz. all those people. all those sounds, loud and painful. it’s the last thing he wants. he growls, pulling back to let you see the discomfort in his eyes. 

“i know it’s scary for you,” you sigh, softly scratching his scalp, “but i promise it’ll be okay. my apartment is quiet. you just gotta trust me to get you there.” despite his reservations, the way you're scratching his scalp and the soft tone of your voice soothes joel. as reluctant as he is, he trusts you now. it's been so long since he's been around another human, let alone trust them the way he does you. it's a scary feeling but he's letting himself feel it. 

he nods, relaxing his grip on you. lord help him if you give him a reason to regret this. 

“thank you,” you whisper, throwing your arms around his neck hugging him tight, “let's go. i wanna show you place– not that it's very exciting.” you chuckle, standing up and offering joel a hand. “i can introduce you to the delicacies of the qz– canned beans.” joel scrunches his nose. “yeah, that’s about right.” 

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

getting joel leave the forest is tough. he sits at the edge, on his hands and feet, with a pout on his lips and his eyes narrowed. you stand only a few feet away, a little dishevelled from last night, frowning with your hands on your hips. 

“c’mon, joel,” you whine, “it’s not a big deal. you probably need the sun, hiding in that dingy forest all the time.” joel scowls and grunts, turning his head away from you. 

“dude, what are you? 5 years old?” joel snaps his head back, eyes wide as brow furrows deeper. “yeah, well, then don’t act like it.” 

he scowls again but finally moves. he crawls out slowly, feeling at the different texture of the ground outside the forest. it’s drier but the grass is soft. it’s not unkind to joel’s calloused hands, almost welcoming. as he crawls forwards, he looks up at you. there’s a nervousness in his eyes he’s looking to you to quell. 

“you wanna stand?” you ask, “you’ll need to once we get inside the qz.” he nods and rises to his feet. as he stretches out, uncurling his muscles, he towers over you. you’re still not used to the shear size of the man but it’s no longer intimidating, almost comforting now. maybe it’s because you know he trusts you, the only person in 20 years, or because of how he cared for you overnight. regardless, it’s a sense of comradery and belonging you haven’t felt in a long time.

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

the walk along the trail is undisturbed. joel seems content to walk alongside you. but as you get closer to the qz, the noise of the bustling city reaches joel’s ear. he shakes his head, letting out a snarl as he slows down. you turn to face him, wincing slightly. you feel a little bad for whining at him before. 

“hey,” you place a hand on his shoulder and he flinches, “hey, hey, it’s alright.” you soften your voice, rubbing soft circles on joel’s shoulder. “i promise this is gonna be okay. just stay close to me and cover your ears if you need to. c’mon.” you slip your hand down to hold his. it’s harsh and rough against your soft palm and much bigger, his fingers engulfing your hand. you see his jaw clench and him nod.

as the guards come into view, joel’s grip tightens on your hand. you give his hand a soft squeeze before he finally let’s go, covering his ears. the guards give joel some foul looks but they let him in without much of a hassle. 

you grab hold of joel’s shirt, tugging him into the busy streets of the qz. the city assaults joel’s senses, causing him to whimper, not loud enough for others, but enough for you to hear. his eyes meet yours, saying all the words he can’t speak. without a second thought, you run, pulling joel with you down the street. he’s more than capable of keeping up as you curl round corners and clamber up the stairs to your apartment. you look back at joel every now and then, giving him a smile. your running became more like a game of cat and mouse than a desperate measure to help joel adjust to his environment. you even get a flash of a smile from him. 

unlocking the door in less than a second, the pair of you burst inside, you jumping straight onto the couch. joel follows you, leaping out the couch to smother you. he nuzzles his head into your neck, letting out a grumble that sounds like a cross between a chuckle and an appreciation. you laugh, feeling the way joel’s beard tickles your neck.

“alright, buddy,” you chuckle, pushing at his shoulders, “you need to hop off. we gotta get you in the shower before you stink out my whole apartment. joel whines, pulling back to rest on your hips. he has a soft pout on his lips as he straddles you, pressing his weight down on your crotch. a moan slips from your lips before you can stop it. joel immediately lifts his hips, hovering over you on his hands and knees. he grunts softly, his eyes wide with concern, he’s terrified he’s hurt you. ignoring the heat in your crotch, you cup joel’s cheeks, softly brushing his beard.

“it’s okay, joel,” you whisper, shaking your head, “you didn’t do anything wrong, buddy. uh– just hop up. i’ll run the shower for you– or would a bath be easier? doesn’t matter.” joel crawls off the couch, a confused look on his face. you really don’t wanna have “the talk” with a grown-ass man. maybe he doesn’t need the talk, maybe he knows but genuinely thought he hurt you. you push those thoughts aside– along with the image of him undressing the other day that has decided to intrude at this moment– and head into the bathroom.

it’s small, a tight squeeze for the two of you, but joel manages to fit in the bath. he squats down, staring at you, sitting awkwardly in this foreign object. 

“so, i’m gonna turn on the water,” you say, pointing at the tap, “it’ll come out at the end. it’s gonna be cold, okay? and i need ya to take your clothes off now.” joel frowns, pulling at his clothes in question. 

“it’s okay now,” you clarify, “we’re in a bathroom and you’re getting ready for a bath. you take your clothes off when you bathe.” joel still looks unsure but starts to pull his shirt off, chucking it on the bathroom floor. seeing his broad, hairy chest and sculptured muscles, fully on display in the soft light of the bathroom, is something you’ll never forget. he looks like heaven.

he stands, hitting his back on the cold tile walls, arms huddled tight to himself as he tries to unbuckle his jeans without hitting his elbows too. he lets his jean drop, his buckle clipping the edge of the bath. to your surprise, joel doesn't wear underwear– why would he need to out there in the forest? you slap a hand over your eyes out of instinct, only hearing a soft rustle as joel pulls his jeans and the new boots you got him all the way off. he grunts at you, chucking the clothes at your feet. when you don’t uncover your eyes, joel barks at you. 

“did you just bark at me?” you ask, dropping your hand. you’re greeted by the sight of joel’s nude body crouched in the tub. his thighs are thick with muscle and peppered with the same dark brown hair on chest. between those thighs is a dense patch of hair, left to grow wild for 20 years. despite the lack of maintenance, it does little to hide the size of his cock, hanging between his legs, taunting you. he’s thick, even flaccid, with a good four inches and he’s uncut. 

you pull your eyes from his junk, back up to his face as he barks at you again. he has a wide smile on his lips, clearly enjoying your reaction to his body. he hasn’t had anyone look at him softly in years, let alone look at him with the kind of hunger you are now. it’s intimidating being truly looked at after all this time, but the warmth of your gaze dulls any anxiety. 

“you’re right,” you chuckle, “i should actually wash you instead of just staring.” you pick up joel’s clothes and dump them in the laundry basket. you head back over to joel, grabbing the soap, shampoo and conditioner, and a flannel, kneeling down beside the tub. 

“remember, it’ll be cold,” you say, placing your hand on the tap, “it’ll take a little while for it to heat up, so bark when it’s warm enough for you, okay?” joel nods, tensing a little as you turn on the tap but he doesn’t snap or snarl at you. “good boy.” 

joel’s ears twitch and he turns his head to look up at you. you see a flash of affection in his eyes before he shakes his head and frowns, turning away so you can’t see his flushing cheeks. 

“come on, cutie,” you smirk, unable to stop yourself from teasing him. he groans at you and then barks, nodding at the tap. you switch it off and start to wash his body with the soapy flannel. he flinches but lets you wash his back.

you’re gentle at first, getting him used to your touch. as he eases, you scrub a little harder. the grime on joel’s body is practically baked on there. 

the water turns brown as the dirt washes off of joel. with the dirt dissipating, you can see the scars the marr his body. he’s been out on his own for so long, it only makes sense that he’d have scars. but seeing them, confirming the pain you know joel’s mind is hiding, it makes your heart ache. you trace a finger along the scars softly, watching the muscles in joel’s back ripple as he flinches under your touch. 

“is this okay?” you ask, stilling your movements. joel looks at you over his shoulder and nods. with his approval, you continue tracing the painful lines on his body, wondering which one hurt the most. 

you turn joel around, washing his soft sculpted chest and arms gently. as you move down his body, you try your best to not to stare at his more intimate areas but it’s difficult– especially when joel doesn’t seem to mind.

“would you like to do your…private parts?” you cringe just asking the question, “i don’t know if you’re comfortable with me cleaning around there.” joel tilts his head and you point to his cock and ass. he frowns at you, gesturing with his head to his crotch as to say you can do it.

“are you sure?” you ask, slowly bringing the flannel to his crotch. he nods, a lot more unphased by his nudity than you. you gently wash around his crotch before taking his cock in your hand. it’s heavy, even though he’s soft, and you can feel it twitch under your ministrations. you know to wash your penis correctly you have to clean under the foreskin, and he probably hasn’t done that for decades, but you think this time round that’ll be too far. so you elect to ignore it, moving his balls and then to his ass. 

“i’ll be right back, joel,” you mutter, dropping the flannel in the tub, “rinse yourself and drain the bath.” after being that close to him, touching his entire body even if it was through the boundary of a flannel, you have to step out for a minute.

you head to the kitchen and pull out a cold beer. the coolness of it helps to calm the heat of the stuffy bathroom and the tension that joel seemed all but oblivious to. 

once you’ve composed yourself, and finished the beer, you return to joel. he’s sitting there naked in the empty bath. 

“it’s time to wash your hair,” you smile, grabbing the shower head off its hook, “i’m gonna have to use the shower for this, so try not to freak out. it’ll only be to wet your hair and then rinse it, okay?” joel nods but you can see his body curl in on itself as he waits for you to turn it on. as the water flows out, joel flinches back with a wary eye on the fast running water. it’s noisier than the bath tap but it’s equally as harmless, joel decides. he shuffles closer, bowing his head to let you wet it. you make quick work of wetting it and turning the shower off again.

“you’re doing great, buddy,” you smile, squirting shampoo into your palm, “i’m gonna put shampoo in now. it’ll get all that dirt out.” you smear some of it on your other hand and start to move them through joel’s hair. as you feel the dirt and grime coming away from his scalp, you can also hear a soft hum from joel’s throat. his eyes are squeezed shut and he has a small smile on his lips as you massage and clean hair and beard. you wash the shampoo out and repeat the process with conditioner.

“look at you,” you smile, standing up to admire a now clean joel, “you look like a wet cat but a very clean one at that.” joel frowns, sticking his lip out in a pout. 

“hey, i wasn’t the one purring like a little kitten getting belly rubs just before. you act rough but you’re just a little kitten, aren’t ya?” joel snarls at you and you put your hands up, backing away. “i’m sorry,” you chuckle, “i’ll stop. you get dressed and i’ll make you some of those canned beans.” he rolls his eyes at your grinning face, but he can’t help but smile a little too. it’s been so long since he’s had a sense of domesticity. his mind has been craving it, even if he never knew it.

you leave joel to get changed and head into the kitchen. you crack open a can of beans and dump them in a pot, chucking it on the stove. grabbing another beer from the fridge, you lean against the kitchen counter. as you take swigs of it, you hear the soft pad of footsteps and the rustle of clothes. a clink of a belt is heard and then joel pops out of the bathroom. he looks frankly adorable in the clean new clothes you got him and with his hair all damp and slicked back. 

he sits down on the couch to pull his sock and boots on. as he does he grunts at the beer in your hand. 

“this?” you ask, shaking the beer slightly, “it’s beer.” finishing fixing his boots to his feet, joel crawls over to you. he sits at your feet and reaches up for the bottle.

“no way,” you tut, pulling it away from him, “i’m not having you getting drunk. no offence, buddy, but a drunk six foot tall wild cat is not what i need running around my apartment, let alone the qz.” joel snarls at you again, baring his teeth.

“is it the cat thing again?” you ask. he shakes his head. “oh, so, you’re just being a little brat are you?” he scowls and lunges for the beer again. 

“joel! jesus christ,” you mutter, pulling back and placing the beer back in the fridge. joel is sitting in front of you still, a frowning pout on his face. you crouch down to his level, placing a hand on his knee. “what’s wrong, buddy? you don’t have to lash out. talk to me. i’ll get a pen and paper if you need it.” 

he hangs his head, shaking it before lunging forwards. he falls on top of you, squishing you as he presses all his weight down, just like he did back in the forest. you wheeze a little, feeling the weight of joel bearing down on you, but you let him stay there, moving your hands to his back. 

the pair of you lay there for a moment in the soft silence of this strange but heartfelt embrace. you run your hands along his back and then up into his hair, gently scratching his scalp and behind his ears. 

“you wanna talk about it?” you whisper, holding him closer. he shrugs. “do you know what’s wrong?” he shakes his head. “i see. it’s okay, i got you.” 

the forgotten beans on the stove start to boil, bringing them to your attention once again. 

“shit,” you mutter, “joel, i gotta check on the beans. let me up, buddy.” joel groans but rolls off you. you flick the stove off and give the beans a stir. “they seem alright. want some?” 

joel nods and you serve you both up a bowl. you place them on the table and sit down. joel doesn’t move from his spot on the ground. 

“you gonna sit up here with me?” you ask, patting the chair next to you. he tilts his head and crawls over to the chair. he sniffs it and feels it out before crawling up onto it. he keeps his legs up to his chest, leaning forwards to sniff the beans. you chuckle as he scrunches his nose. 

“yeah, they aren’t as good as those nice cuts of meat you get out in the forest,” you smile, digging into the beans, “but it’s some of the best shit out here.” joel lets out a small laugh before bringing his hand up to scoop up the beans. you realise you’re gonna have to tell him to use a spoon eventually but you let him simply enjoy his meal.

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

“alright, buddy,” you clap your hands together softly, turning away from the kitchen sink, now full of your dishes, “there’s a doctor’s office not too far from here. you wanna go get a check up? make sure everything’s alright?” joel grumbles, shaking his head. “you worried about the noise?” he nods. 

“it’s not too far from here so you won’t have to put up with it for long, okay?” joel frowns. “i can find you some headphones when we go out.” he scrunches his nose up but stands up, giving you a nod. you smile, walking up to joel and cupping his cheeks. 

“i know this is hard for you,” you say, gently rubbing his bearded cheeks, “but you can trust me. i won’t let anything happen to you.” joel purrs, leaning into your hands. you smile, giving him a scratch under his chin. you grab your bag and nod at the door. “let’s go.”

joel follows you out the apartment, hanging close behind you. as you descend the stairs, getting closer to the noise of the street, you can feel joel’s anxious twitches against your back. you turn around to take joel’s hand, catching the eye of one of your neighbours leaving his apartment for his shift. before you have time to recognise which neighbour it is, you see his face twist into a scowl.

“hey!” he yells, storming down the stairs, causing joel to jump, “is that my fucking shirt? you little shit!” you don’t have to tell joel to run, he’s already pulling you down the stairs at a speed you can barely keep up with. you stumble over your feet as joel pulls you into the street, your furious neighbour close behind. 

the chase is a blur, all you can see and hear clearly is the back of joel’s head and the screams of your neighbour. any attempt at civility is gone from joel’s mind with him bowling people out of the way with zero regard as he navigates the busy streets. 

you snap yourself out of the shock of the moment and realise joel is taking you both to the checkpoint of the qz. if you two burst through there, you’ll certainly be shot. with all your strength, you tug joel in the direction of the hole in the wall you use. he looks at you, eyes wide with concern. you haven’t seen someone look at you with such a concern for your welfare, honestly, ever. and it’d be sweet if you weren’t running from your neighbour right now.

“through here,” you yell, pulling joel to through the crack. you slip through easily but joel’s broad frame has more trouble. you watch through the crack as your neighbour catches up. joel looks at you for a second before turning his back to you and blocking out the crack and your view of what's happening behind the wall. 

for a moment, you stand there, chest heaving and mind terrified as you hear your neighbour yell at joel. you hear joel’s snarl, a sickening crunch, and then silence. when joel’s back doesn’t move from the crack you feel your stomach leap into your throat.

“joel!” you scream, running to the wall, grabbing at joel’s shirt, “joel!” your voice is hoarse and tears are welling in your eyes. you can’t be the reason he dies. after all this time surviving on his own, you can’t be the cause of his death. 

your hand is pulled forwards as joel finally turns around. he whimpers seeing the terror in your eyes. he brings his hands up to wipe your tears and you notice the blood splattered on his knuckles. 

“joel…” you whisper, taking his bloodied hand in yours. before you can ask him what happened he shakes his head, pushing you back so he can squeeze through the gap. once he slips through the crack, you get a glimpse of the scene on the other side. your neighbour is lying, motionless on the street, his nose bleeding and face marred with blood.

“joel! wh-” joel slaps a hand over your mouth and shakes his head again. his expression is firm but his eyes are screaming for your forgiveness. he doesn’t give you the chance to before he’s pulling you in the direction of the forest. 

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

the trek through the forest is deafeningly silent. you stare at the ground, following joel’s heels. the image of your neighbour bleeding out on the street is seared into your mind. you didn’t mean for him to get hurt, you were just trying to help joel. 

once you reach joel’s home, you slump down on one of the logs, too out of it to do anything but sit in silence. joel trails off to wash his hand in a nearby stream. when he returns he crouches down in front of you. he lifts your head, holding it gently in his broad calloused hands, to meet his eyes. he doesn’t need to say anything, even if he could, his eyes telling you how sorry he is. 

“it’s… it’s okay,” you sigh, your voice weak, “what you did… that was wrong. but i get why you did it. i don’t blame you.” joel presses his forehead to yours, closing his eyes, simply appreciating your forgiveness. 

“and i’m sorry,” you whisper, placing your hands on joel’s shoulders, “i should’ve taken you to the qz, especially in stolen clothes. it was my fault you had to do that.” joel whines, shaking his head and pulling you into his arms. 

he holds the back of your head with one hand, the other snaking round to hold your waist. he starts to rock you in his arms. he’s not sure why. feelings of love and warmth come back to him, memories in feelings alone, before the grief his mind has been running from hits him like a truck. he holds you impossibly tight, his mind resorting back to the trauma that put him in this state. as much as he wishes he knew what happened, he can’t conjure more than the gut wrenching feeling of loss. maybe it’s better he doesn’t remember.

the embrace is short lived as joel’s head snaps around. his ears perk up and he immediately carries you inside his hut. he shakes his head at you and then disappears, unsheathing his knife from his hip as he does. it’s obvious joel wants you to stay put and silent, but there’s no way you’re leaving him alone. 

you pop your head out of the hut to see joel crouched behind a bush and a group of four men carrying guns, raiders, enclosing in on him. guilt hits you again when you realise they must have followed you two from the qz. as one of the raiders gets closer to joel, you panic.

“joel! look out!” you yell, the raider’s attention turning to you. joel snaps his head round to you, scowl on his face. his look says it all; you fucking idiot. 

before the raider can take his shot at you, joel growls, distracting the man and lunging at him, slitting the man’s throat cleanly with one slice. as the man drops, joel throws his gun to you and turns to a raider sneaking up behind him. 

you scramble to grab the gun, clutching it to your chest as you back up against the hut. as you tremble, too terrified to move, you see joel disarm and snap the neck of another raider as he fights off one from behind. a bullet nicks his arms and he roars in pain. but it only seems to emboldened him, with him charging at the man behind him, stabbing him square in the throat, wrenching the knife to the side. 

too transfixed on the spurt of blood pouring from the raider’s neck, you fail to notice a dog run at you from the side. the dog growls and lunges at you, sinking its teeth into your arm. you scream out in pain as the dog’s teeth sink deeper into your arm, slicing through all your layers of skin and puncturing muscle. 

joel’s attention is immediately gone from the remaining raider, bounding over to you. without a second thought, joel plunges his knife into the neck of the dog, the animal’s jaw going slack around your arm. joel rips the gun out of your hand and stands, aiming it at the raider’s head. he lets out a guttural roar, giving the man a second to speak. as the the man pulls his gun on him, joel finger twitches and he shoots the man clean through the stomach. he throws the gun away and jumps on top of the man pinning him to the ground, spitting in his face as he growls again.

despite the pain in your arm and the horrific sight of the limp dog beside you, you stand on shaky legs and stumble over to joel and the raider.

“he wants you to explain yourself,” you wince, cradling your bleeding arm, “why are you here? how did you get a dog?” joel scowls at you but doesn’t stop you. 

“oh, so you speak feral fucking man?” the raider laughs, his voice humourless and gargled from the blood filling his lungs. 

“answer the fucking questions,” you snap. the raider groans and joel shakes him, smacking his head against the ground.

“fine!” the man yells, wincing, “we saw you leaving the qz.” joel snarls at you this time, a look of betrayal in his eyes. “and we got a dog from jackson. happy?”

“where the fuck is jackson?” the raider rolls his eyes but answers when joel growls at him.

“it’s in wyoming! okay?” he groans, “now can you just fucking kill me?”

“how do they have dogs?” 

“i don’t fucking know– ah!” joel shoves a finger into the man’s bullet wound. “they’re a massive settlement in wyoming. i think an ex-firefly set it up.” you nod.

“thanks.” the raider goes to make another snide comment but joel beats him to it, snapping the man’s neck. 

you squeeze your eyes shut, focusing on the sound of joel’s and your own breathing. this can’t be real. you’ve only been venturing out of the qz for 4 days and you’ve already seen more violence than you have in your entire life. at the hands of joel. you knew this man wasn’t a gentle giant or anything, he’s survived in the wild by being ruthless, not kind. but seeing it first hand is sickening. 

after a few silent moments, you feel joel’s hands hold your shoulders, guiding you back into the hut. only once you’re back in there do you open your eyes. your arm is soaked in blood and there’s more covering joel’s upper body. you had washed him clean not an hour or more ago, only to have that effort ruined in a quick few minutes. 

joel rummages around in the bag you brought, finding spare medical supplies and a water bottle you had packed. he pours water over your arm and wraps it up tight in a gauze bandage. he ties it off and then does the same to the wound on his arm. 

you sit, even more dissociated than before, on the blanket in the hut. you can’t go back to the qz. you’ve stolen from your neighbours and one of them is severely injured, if not dead because of that. and you led raiders to joel’s sanctuary in the forest that ended in their deaths and the death of an innocent animal. 

you look up from your daze of self loathing and shock to see joel clumsily writing on the notepad from your bag. 

“betrayed me,” it says when he holds it up for you. 

“i know, joel,” you croak, tears filling your eyes once again, “i fucked up. i should’ve never come out here. i should’ve left you the fuck alone, like you wanted. i know, okay? you don’t have to rub it in. i can leave, for good, if that’s what you want.” joel waits a beat, his heart aching as your tears fall. he considers telling you to leave. 

“no,” he writes, “you need me.”

“i need you?” you ask, frowning, “the hell does that mean?”

“alone,” he points at you, “injured.” 

“but i betrayed you,” you cry, “i’m the reason your home was attacked and you had to kill those men– and that dog.” the image of the dog’s dead body flashes in your mind and a horrible sob is ripped from your throat. joel immediately takes you in his arms pulling you close to his chest. he shakes his head, rubbing your back. 

when you calm you down, your sobs easing out to small sniffles, joel pulls back and writes again.

“you forgive me. i forgive you.” his eyes are soft, begging you to understand him. with a shaky breath, you nod. 

“we should go to jackson,” you say. joel frowns, tilting his head in confusion. “it sounds like they have a lot of resources. i need a new home, you deserve a new home, and you deserve help. maybe they could help us.”

“help me?” joel writes.

“yeah,” you smile weakly, “maybe someone could help you get your memories and your speech back. would you like that?” joel shrugs. he’s spent so long living like this, the idea of change is terrifying. especially the prospect of uncovering his memories. he fears that they’re locked away for good reason. he doesn’t want to know what made him this why. but when he looks at the hope in your eyes, the care you still have for him after everything you’ve seen him do, it gives him a reason, for the first time in decades, to try and get better. 

joel sighs before nodding. he crawls over to the blanket, trying not to put too much pressure on his sore arm. he takes you gently in his arms, holding you close as he covers you with his body again. 

you wrap your arms around joel’s neck, pulling his head into your neck as you run your fingers up his scalp. joel presses a kiss to your neck, nuzzling his nose under your chin. 

“joel,” you whimper, feeling his crotch press against your own, “joel– stop.” he freezes, pulling back with a hurt look in his eyes. “let’s just lay here, okay? i can’t… not now.” joel nods, snuggling back down on top of you, being careful of your arm. 

his mind is all over the place, as is yours. both of you are in over your heads in uncharted territory in the attempt to try and stay together. maybe jackson will be the bastion that reconciles the distance between you. or the place that shows you that loneliness is the only thing binding you two together.

[actuallysaiyan]

YAAAAAAAY you’re back! 😃

May I please request headcanons for Gohan, Goten, and Trunks reacting to their female singer S/O performing on stage with a male singer that they have a ton of chemistry with?

warnings: smut, oral sex(male receiving), spanking, jealousy, unprotected sex, possessiveness pairings: Son Gohan x Fem!Singer!Reader, Son Goten x Fem!Singer!Reader and Trunks x Fem!Singer!Reader

smut under the cut

Gohan

Look, he’s so insanely proud of you. You’ve come such a long way in your career. He loves watching you on the stage as well. He’s your biggest supporter.

He also understands that at times, you may look like you’re getting really close to fans or other performers, but he knows it’s just all an act.

Until that night, when he sees you practically grinding up against the guest performer. His blood begins to boil. This isn’t what you two agreed upon.

He’ll watch the performance, not wanting to cause a scene. But just know that things will go south when you get home. He’s got no patience for this kind of shit.

Once you’re done with your concert, he grabs you by the wrist and tells you there’s an emergency at home. You truly believe him somehow so you go along with it.

“You think this is funny?” he asks, his voice strangely calm. When you two get home, he’s pinning you to the wall. Your wrists are above your head and he’s kissing you so hungrily.

If you try to protest and argue, things will only get worse. He will pull your panties off, tug your dress up over your hips and he’s going to spank you until you’re crying.

“It’s not funny, babygirl. I warned you, I didn’t want to see you with another performer so close like that.” He says as his big hand soothes over your red ass. “Don’t forget it.”

Goten

More jealous than his older brother. Definitely is the type to keep a hand or his arm wrapped around you during afterparties and things like that. Wants everyone to know you belong to him and only him.

Probably spies on you from time to time, but he’s so goofy and sweet on the outside, he’s always got some sort of excuse for this behavior. And you believe it.

The night that you decide to dance so close and grind on the guest performer, he’s so jealous. He’s fuming and ready to pull you off stage.

He doesn’t let you have an encore. The minute you come backstage after your performance, he’s taking you away from everyone. The crowd is disappointed but he doesn’t care.

Goten is going to be fucking you in the backseat of the car while your driver drives you home. He’s feral and angry, leaving lots of marks on you.

“Fuck…do you have any idea how much that kind of shit pisses me off?” He asks, pressing his face in the crook of your neck while he fucks into you hard and deep.

You can barely think straight, clinging to him to keep yourself grounded as his cock rams into you over and over, bullying your sweet spot and cervix.

He’ll have you stuffed full of cum, disheveled. If there are paparazzi outside your apartment when you get home, he’ll proudly parade you around so that they get the pictures of you full of Goten’s cum and you look like you got your world rocked.

Trunks

He’s a jealous man, but it’s a bit different than Goten. He’ll be possessive at times, but he can also be a bit more reserved and watch you from afar. He saw first hand what jealousy does when it comes to his parents, so he’s got different tactics.

He’s got connections, so he always has tabs on you. He makes sure you’re okay, even when he can’t be with you on every part of every tour.

When you excitedly tell him you’re touring with one of your favorite performers, he’s a bit wary of this. But like a good boyfriend, he is excited and he supports your decision.

The only problem is that he is not happy with the chemistry you have with this performer. He wasn’t expecting this at all. He keeps a close eye on this man.

Then one night, you’re grinding and dancing with the performer, and Trunks grows so angry. His blood is boiling, he’s so close to going Super Saiyan. How could you do this to him?

The minute you’re done with your concert and you’re done with the meet and greets, Trunks has his hand on your shoulder and he’s guiding you towards the limo that’s waiting outside.

“Wait, there’s an afterparty!” you try to coax him, but he’s not hearing any of it. He has you in the limo with ease and you’re seated on his lap.

“What the fuck was that, princess?” He asks, tugging on your hair to make you look into his eyes. “Do I need to punish you?” But you already know he’s going to for the stunt you just pulled.

Trunks has you gagging and choking on his cock, watching as you try to catch your breath. Just know that if you pull that shit on him again, the consequences will be worse.

[corollaservant]

(18+ mdni) ☆ corp. hcs

projectmanager!nanami who calls you exhausted in his office to announce that you will be leaving for a business trip in two days. He huffs in annoyance but can’t help but notice the way your skirt rides up when you exit, he should scold you for violating dress code policy.

projectmanager!nanami who hosts a boring meeting and talks nonstop, your mind is drifting somewhere else. You observe (and silently drool over) his firm jaw, muscular frame and veiny hands as he points to the presentation on the wall, his eyes meet yours and squint, he can tell you didn’t listen to a word he said. 

projectmanager!nanami who tries not to look as you sit across the conference room, the rest left and you lean absentmindedly on the table, chest plush from being pushed on the glass, your perky boobs spill inside the unzipped white button up. ‘’Did you hear what I said about him? He needs to be fired, he’s holding the team back and his KPIs are terrible, write that down.’’ he orders and you sit upright and scribble furiously.

projectmanager!nanami who is informed that the hotel you’d be staying for one day has mixed up his reservation and can only offer you either one of their cheapest rooms with two single size beds or a king size suite (out of all options! it was an urgent booking after all). It’s not about the money, he has plenty to spend, but he can’t sleep in the same bed with a company worker. Especially not when that is you. He eventually opts for the suite regardless, he can’t listen to your continuous and childish complaints about how uncomfortable a single bed feels. 

projectmanager!nanami who’s tucked in bed as you exit the shower – droplets falling from your hair and he looks down; the towel barely covers your boobs, since it's about the size of a hand towel; due to the sudden inconvenience the staff had not properly equipped the room. He’s feeling the blood rush south and shuffles as his aching dick annoys him between his legs.

projectmanager!nanami who stays up until 3, you sleep soundly next to him and he rushes to the bathroom, his cock still up. He wraps his hands around it, tip is flushed and smeared with his precum as he moves his fingers up and down his shaft, your image exiting the shower carved into his mind. He can’t help but picture you under him, cock between your folds as he pushes deep and you whine, same voice when he tells you to do something you don’t want to. The film frame in his mind switches to you in the conference room, white button up too tight for your tits (you also never wore a bra no matter the shirt color) and your strict pencil skirt, which always somehow managed to ride up your plush thighs, the skin soft and delicate. He pumps faster as he bites down his shirt to silence his groans, your name slips out and he cums hard on his greedy palm, some of his load splatters across the bathroom — it’s dark and he can’t see much, body jerking and eyes shut with bliss. 

projectmanager!nanami unaware you woke up the minute he hastily rolls out of bed and caught up on his guilty act, thighs pushed together and a finger teasing your wet core, you can’t believe he’s jerking off to you, just meters outside and ready to take him but you hesitate to enter the bathroom, the situation hot as is. 

projectmanager!nanami in the same suite next day, opening his work laptop, the team leaders of the company cancelled the office meeting and he’d have to inform your company back home, possibly gossiping and bashing their unprofessionalism. Little does he know, you have no plans to listen to meaningless banter, as you crawl under the hotel desk and start caressing his thighs, he's on Zoom, camera and sound on as he hisses. ‘’Everything alright, sir?’’ the worshiping leeches call out to him, as you move your hands to palm his semi hard cock. You know you are bold, you just can’t deny him any longer, the previous night a confirmation of both your desires. 

projectmanager!nanami muting himself, as your mouth bobs up and down his length, tongue swirling around his blushed tip as he grabs your tight bun and pushes your head all the way down; his expensive wristwatch accidentally scratches your cheek as he gradually loses constraint. He feels himself close and removes his hand as he covers his mouth to "cough", sound muted as ropes of his load spurt in your throat. You grin satisfied for anything he offers.

projectmanager!nanami seeing you plant a soft kiss on his tip, smiling and standing up behind the camera as you wink, he unmutes and continues—ragged breath and a slight pink decorating his face, he’d been holding his breath too much.

‘’Excuse me sir, what did you say we should do about …?’’ someone shouts from the meeting, the back office noise too loud. ‘’I’ll call you later’’ he hangs up and follows you to the bathroom.

He just can't let that slide.

[starsupontharss]

silly little kevaaron drabble for you all as promised, please be nice <333

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

Kevin’s eyes have always gotten him in trouble. Glances that lingered too long in the nest were a small form of suicide growing up, Riko ever present to punish him for staring at anything other than his racket or his brother. His gaze has always been steely, determined, laser-focused on his opponent. When in interviews, Kevin has trained his eyes to be polite and restrained, but the intensity in them never dropped. Nicky chastised him for his glare when he first arrived in South Carolina, comparing him to a cheetah about to pounce on his prey. Kevin has never seen a problem with it. If his gaze is determined, it’s because he is determined, and if it discourages conversation, then Kevin doesn’t really mind. If he has his thoughts to himself for a second more then lucky him.

In this moment however, with his deepest darkest secret 3 rows in front of him, he wishes his obvious, lovesick staring could be less noticeable. He fears any observer will, rightfully, label him a sociopath with the way his pupils bore in the back of just-past-the-chin straw blonde hair from across the bus. His secret’s name is Aaron Michael Minyard and Kevin thinks that straw blonde must be the most beautiful hair colour known to mankind. Aaron sits, silent and peaceful, next to the window on the right of the bus, with his headphones on his mind off, nearly asleep as he leans against the glass. Kevin stares from the far left of the back row and aches to be closer. To see every hue in every strand on his head. To memorise the delicate bouquet of his damp locks. To engrave every hex code into his soul. Nicky’s absence from tonight’s game because of a sprained ankles leaves aaron with a seatmate, and Kevin with a heavenly view.

Andrew stares up from his phone and Kevin looks away, lest his schoolboy crush turned undying devotion for the goalie’s twin be revealed. Kevin remains unaware of how Aaron has become so integral to his breathing in such a short span of time. It snuck up on him, gradual but considerable, until Aaron occupied nearly every thought in his mind that wasn’t exy related.

Kevin’s eyes dart to outside the window. He can see the roads he recognises, can feel the light at the end of the tunnel approaching. 10 minutes. 10 minutes at most is all it will take for Kevin to be home, to be able to slip out of his shared dorm and into his and Aaron’s spot, where the wall obstructs the barely-big-enough-for-two space in the stairwell and he can gather Aaron into his arms, feel his warm enveloping embrace.

The desperation is the hardest part of all this, Kevin thinks, just barely beating out trying and failing to avert his gaze away from his beloved boyfriend. The wanting to be with Aaron in front of the world, wanting to shout about his love from the rooftops and not being able to us slowly but surely killing him. Every conversation steers them in circles, endless cycles of fear and internalised homophobia and repression. His apprehension is just as great as Aaron’s, his childhood necessity to be perfect in the master's eyes conquering his meek courage anytime he toys with the idea of opening up about their relationship. and so they stay, trapped in a love confined to the dark, kept away from the prying of Andrew or the press or the Moriyamas or anyone who could possibly ruin their peace.

Aaron jolts awake as the bus jostles over the speed bump that signals their arrival into the Fox Tower car park, and as he yawns and stretches and adjusts, he spares a glance back at Kevin where he sits uneasy at the back of the bus. His smile, reserved, barely noticeable, and utterly dazzling, reassures Kevin in a way he didn’t even know he needed. Whatever happens, whatever secrets they need to keep, Aaron will always be there, with his gorgeous face, and quick wit, and unbeaten sarcastic humour, and he will always be there to smile at Kevin’s lovelorn eyes. Kevin looks, unashamed.

[lainiespicewrites]

The Atreides Era Part 2

A/N: HI. this was supposed to be posted like 2 weeks ago! but I was finishing school and then my BEST FRIEND HAD A BABY! Life has been kind of crazy. But here is part 2 of my series for @hey-its-roseaurum ! for my dedicated followers my normal content will also be resuming soon as well! Enjoy guys!

Warnings: Death? Kinda?

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

By dawn, the masses had gathered. Or what was left of them. About 3 days earlier some of the camp had accompanied Lady Jessica. They had already gone south. Stilgar was at the center of the gathering along with Paul Atreides. Stilgar was giving a speech. This seemed to be his mantra. Matar and Chani exchanged an exasperated glance. The two lingered outside the group. 

“There is no turning back from this, Matar,” Chani Says. Matar nods at her friend. Her body is rigid but the glassy look in her eyes barely shields the hurt in them. 

“He says, it is for our protection. For my protection. But…” Matar pauses and looks at her friend. Chani tears her eyes away from the circus happening in front of them and gives Matar her full attention. She continues. “If he follows through with this. I fear it is him who will need protection.” She glances back at Paul. He looks like a leader. He is building morale with the soldiers before they make the move to head south. He looks… so sure of himself. But Matar sees right through it. She and Paul had, against her better judgment, become friends. Close friends. He may have a plan. But he has no idea what he’s doing. If he was so sure, so brave. Then why had he come to her? Why did he need Chani? If he was the fearless leader Stilgar claimed him to be, then why could she see the certainty wavering in his eyes when they met hers across the crowd of people around him? 

“Protection from who?” Chani’s question broke through Matar’s thoughts and her full attention was once again brought back to the girl standing next to her. Matar inhaled deeply, her eyes dropping to the sand beneath her feet. It was only months ago they had taken Paul and his mother in. Against her will, she was training him to walk so he wouldn’t get himself killed. Was he really strong enough to lead a war against the emperor? Was it even his choice? He was just a puppet on his mother's string. He made the choice. But it is Lady Jessica who laid the path. Matar paused still. Trying to choose the right words. Finally, she met Chani’s eyes again. 

“Himself,” she spoke. “He is a danger to himself.” Before Chani had the chance to respond the soldiers were beginning to move. Following the two men up the sand dune. Reluctantly the girls followed. A silence fell over them as they watched the young Atreides place the thumper in the ground. About 50 feet away Stilgar repeated the same process. Naturally, the Freman soldiers split off into two one to follow Stilgar and the ones that would travel with Paul. As they started to hear the rumble under the sand in the distance Matar once again caught Paul’s gaze. Without a word, she nodded at him and she and Chani joined Stilgar and the others waiting to jump. She did not look back at him. Nor did she see the brief expression of pain on his face as she had denied him. But it was short-lived.

The rumble was now only mere feet away. The head lifted up from the sand. Not one of them flinched. They all took their cue hopping onto the creature's back digging their hooks in for balance. Whatever reservations Matar had about this decision would have to be put to rest. Any chance to turn back was long gone. 

The ride south was long. And for Matar, quiet. A time to reflect. No matter what outcome she could not picture this move having a positive ending. Paul believes power is the answer. He’d once told her he would give anything to be equal to her. He seems to contradict himself often. More than anything. Matar could not shake the feeling that  Paul’s choice would tear them apart. He promised her it was to protect her. So he could keep her safe and keep them close. But in her eyes. His choice to give himself power and trying to rise above everyone else is doing the opposite. 

When their journey came to an end Matar took the time to get her bearings. She pays no mind to Paul as he sets off toward the temple. Or the shrine, as Lady Jessica had called it. She watched as the other Freman set up camp. Readying themselves for Paul’s instruction. Paul had refused to tell Matar how he planned to attack the Emperor. However, she knew he had a battle plan. Only time will tell. 

Matar found a quiet place on the outskirts of their new camp to set up her tent. She stares at the business of the scene around her. Everyone seems so frantic. Haphazardly setting up their new lives. Eager to play their part in this ridiculous game. Yes, She thought, she was losing him. Losing him to his own greed. The man she saw this morning already seemed vastly different from the man she was with last night. The man who spoke of oceans as deep as her eyes. The man who had plans to take her there. She wanted to believe he was still her same friend. But he made no effort to prove it. 

She was lost in thought. Settling into what felt like a foreign land. Matar did not notice that she was now alone. The other Freman had gone off to follow the young Atreides. Even Chani who had been setting up nearby was now gone. Still, Matar did not notice. Not until her friend’s voice rang out across the way from inside the shrine. At first, she thought she was mistaken. Matar quickly turned around from her tent. It took her only seconds to realize she was alone. And then again… unmistakable this time. It was a cry of her name coming from her best friend. 

Her heart races. Mind going a mile a minute afraid for her friend. Her family. Everyone she knows is inside that building. What has happened? Are they hurt? She took off. She ran from camp and across the sand to the shrine. Throwing open the doors, she runs inside. She follows the sound of her friend's screams but is stopped dead in her tracks when she finds her. As she takes in the sight in front of her feels as though the air in her lungs is depleted. 

Paul is lying on the ground motionless. Chani is kneeling next to him grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him trying to break whatever spell he’s put himself under. The Freman are scattered around the room. They’ve dropped to their knees in devoted prayer. And her… of course her. Lady Jessica stands aside watching the madness. Unphased and waiting. 

“WHAT DID YOU DO?” She hears her friend shout. She watches as Lady Jessica only continues to glower at Chani. 

“It had to be done.” She said. Chani looks back to Paul and shutters through a sob.

 “He’s dead,” Chani states. Matar can no longer stay in the shadows. She runs to her friend kneeling beside her. Her hand quickly finds Paul’s. Her Mouth goes dry when she finds no pulse. No. this isn’t real. Her body starts to shake with rage but she forces it down. She turns her head fixing her glare on the boy’s mother. 

“You killed your own son, and for what?” She seethes. But she’s not done. “That is low Lady Jessica, even for you.” Matar opens her mouth to continue to berate the woman but her words are cut short. 

“SILENCE,” Lady Jessica uses her power of voice to shut the girls up. “It is not your place to tell me what is best for the future of my family. And for your planet. You will thank me. And if you would let me finish… he is not dead.” Matar looks back to Paul’s lifeless form squeezing his hand in hers. 

“You did this! Fix him!” Chani shouts. Lady Jessica shakes her head remaining stoic. 

“The prophecy must be fulfilled …desert rain.” She states. Chani lets out a frustrated groan but Matar stills. She looks at her friend. 

“She is right,” Matar says as the girls lock eyes. 

“Matar,” Chani begins to protest. From behind them. Another vile of the blue liquid is being brought out. 

“I hate to agree with her. With any of this. It’s all bullshit. But we’ve always known about the prophecy. Chani if you don’t do this, Paul will die. You did not force his hand, but you can save his life.” Chani’s shoulders shake from the sob she’s trying to hold in. Finally, she can no longer hold it back and she lets her tears fall. 

“DO IT,” Lady Jessica’s voice rings through the room. Causing Chani to jump. 

She quickly wipes the tears from her cheek, dips her fingers into the blue liquid that has been presented to them and presses them to Paul’s lips. The room falls silent as everyone waits. Matar once again feels like she cannot breathe. She feels a twitch. And realizes she’s still holding Paul’s hand. His fingers slowly start to curl around hers. Then seconds later. He awakens. 

“Usul!” Chani lets out a relieved breath. “I’m here,” She looks back to Matar “We are here,” she caresses his cheek her face no full of concern. “Are you okay? Do you feel okay?”

The room erupts into chatter and Matar feels like her heart is being squeezed inside her chest. He is alive. Her friend her…Paul. He is alive. She looks at him and finds he is staring back at Chani. And for some reason, this causes more of an ache in her chest. Slowly he lets go of her hand and starts to sit up. 

“I’m okay, I feel okay. “ He assures her. His eyes shift to Matars and he gives her a gentle smile. But it feels forced. Matar nods at him, standing back up. Paul turns back to Chani. “Thanks to you.” He says. Matar quickly starts to feel as if she’s over stayed her welcome. Really she never felt as if she was welcome here. And she takes her leave. As she’s walking out the door she hears it. Chani slapped Paul hard across the cheek. Saying nothing else she stands and follows Matar out of the shrine. 

The doors close behind them and Matar stops for a moment to let out a shaky breath, showing any emotion at all for the first time since she entered the building. 

She feels Chani’s hand on her shoulder.

“Matar, he’s okay,” she says her voice soft. This is supposed to be comfort. But Matar’s body goes rigid, and what feels like jealous burns in her stomach. 

“I know,” she bites out. She takes another breath. This isn’t Chani’s fault, she tries to reason with herself. Chani hates the prophecy as much as she does. But she cannot help that she was apart of it. “Thanks to you.” her words come out more bitter than she means them to. She turns to face Chani, letting her hand fall from her shoulder. 

“And what does that mean?” Chani askes, her voice still calm. However, her eyes were sharp staring back at Matar. 

“It just means,” again Matar stopped herself. Chani was her friend. Paul was her friend. She was thankful that she saved his life and surely paul was too. That is all this is. “You were there, and I am glad you were. Usul would have died without you. I’m greatful that you saved his life Chani.” Matar says to her. Chani’s eyes begin to water again. She’s still emotional from the events that have just taken place. 

“I don’t know if I could have done it if you we’ren’t right there with me. Thank you. You are a good friend Matar. And an even better fighter. I can’t believe you spoke to Lady Jessica like that.” she chuckled softly. Matar cracked a soft smile. 

“It was nothing she didn’t deserve.” 

Just then the doors flew open again. There stood the man himself. He looked as if he was still in pain but he was fighting it well. 

“There you are,” He said to them. “C’mon, we have to prepare. We attack  tomorrow. The three of them exchange glances. Matar and Paul lingering for only a moment before she nods. 

“Lead the way Usul.”  She states.  Paul turns walking back into the building and the girls follow. 

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

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[sorryimlatecapt]

it's late at night when they get back to the loft, barely inside the door when buck decides he can't wait any longer. he grabs tommy by the shoulders and crowds him up against the wall, a surprised laugh bubbling out of him as buck attacks his mouth.

"hey you" tommy murmurs softly when they separate just enough for air, leaning his forehead against buck's.

"hi. i've been wanting to do that all night"

"is that so?" there's a pleased lilt to tommy's voice and buck wants to chase it with his tongue.

"yeah, you- you look so good tonight and i'm a weak man. it's not fair" he says, and something lights up in his chest as he does. he can say things like that now, he can say what he's thinking and it isn't weird because they're several weeks in and he's so into his boyfriend it hurts.

tommy had picked him up earlier that evening, opting for staying over at the loft since buck had a shift the day after. when buck opened the door he had stood frozen in place for a few moments, not even trying to hide his ogling as tommy just grinned at him, eyebrows raised and expectant.

"see something you like?" he'd asked, and buck almost wanted to slap him in the shoulder for asking stupid questions with obvious answers.

"you're wearing a vest" buck had breathed, and he'd heard how strangled he'd sounded which wasn't all that surprising considering all the blood in his body had rushed south with a dizzying speed.

it was true. tommy was standing in the hall, hair neatly styled with a lock hanging down his forehead, a shirt with its long sleeves rolled up over his forearms and several buttons pointedly not buttoned and showing off just a hint of chest hair. the shirt was shiny and expensive-looking, olive green and over that, a dark brown vest with some kind of embroidery that was only a shade or so lighter. he was in slacks, for gods sake, and tommy was a practical man who never really ventured into the dressy kind of dressing up even when he was dressed up, rarely seen in anything outside of black, grey or beige. aside from his blue jeans, of course. and while buck loved seeing him in whatever he preferred wearing, this was something else. tommy had put in effort tonight. a lot of effort. for him.

tommy had raked his eyes over buck too, whom upon tommy's prompting for something just a little more formal had opted for one of his burnt ochre shirts and black jeans, but now he felt a little underdressed.

"i take it you approve" tommy had said while grabbing buck's hand, pulling him toward himself with a "hi baby" before kissing him.

"i am cursing the lafd gods that i have to work tomorrow because i kinda wanna skip dinner and drag you upstairs" buck had pouted against his mouth, eliciting an amused laugh out of his boyfriend.

"as tempting as that sounds, later, i promise. i've been trying to get a reservation at this place since our third date" tommy said, ducking his head a little and smoothing a hand over buck's chest. "i really like this colour on you"

buck smiled wide, feeling a little shy as tommy fiddled with his collar. "yeah?"

"yeah, and it compliments my outfit quite nicely funny enough"

"it's like we're in tune or something"

"so in tune" tommy agreed, meeting buck halfway for another kiss.

"mm, could you maybe wear this outfit always when you're not at harbor?" buck asked before moving onto tommy's jaw. "or maybe you could just invest in more vests. ha, invest in vests."

tommy snorted, "oh, i see how it is. you're only into me because i clean up nice"

"aw, babe, i'm into you cleaned up nice and all dirty" buck murmured into tommy's ear. "don't make that face, it was right there"

"that was so bad. but, eh, i did kinda walk us into that one" he admitted.

"yeah you did" buck grinned proudly.

they'd gone to the restaurant shortly after that, but only because tommy had the wherewithal to not let them stand in the hallway outside buck's apartment making out for the rest of the night, even though buck wouldn't have had a problem with it. the restaurant was lovely, a little fancier than what they'd gone out to so far, but only because tommy had admitted he liked spoiling his partners but never really had a chance to before, and buck was quickly learning he actually liked being spoiled. to an extent of course, and he was planning on spoiling tommy absolutely rotten by the end of the night.

so now they were back at buck's apartment, sated and buzzing after a shared meal and bottle of champagne. tommy was pushed up against the door, letting buck force his tongue inside his mouth. tommy placed his huge hand at the back of buck's head to keep him there, sighing heavily when buck shoved his thigh between his legs.

"do you have any idea" buck started, leaving tommy's lips to kiss a line down his neck. "how distracting it is" a new kiss placed on his collarbone. "to have such a hot man" pulling his shirt aside to bite at his shoulder where it met his neck. "sit across from you, and you can't touch him the way you want" pausing to pull tommy's shirt up from where it was tucked into his slacks. "because it would risk the two of you getting arrested for public indecency?"

"ah, but i do" tommy breathed heavily, his abs twitching under buck's touch. "you looked so beautiful tonight, and- ah-" he cut himself off when buck shoved his leg in harder, the slacks too soft to hide his reaction to what they were doing. "i love your hair curly like this" he dragged his fingers through buck's newly grown out hair, stopping at the nape of his neck and leaning in close to capture his mouth again. "makes me want to grab it and put you right where i want you"

the admission almost took buck out at the knees. "please" he pleaded, moaned, whatever.

"yeah?"

"yes, please, you can be rough, do whatever you wa-"

his words stopped short, because with a growl, tommy bent down, his hands following and caressing buck on the way. a quick little squeeze of his ass, and then tommy's hands were below his cheeks and lifting. the action itself was so swift and buck was still babbling, so when he was suddenly hoisted into the air there was nothing stopping the high pitched yelp that escaped him. all of a second passed, and then tommy was moving them toward the kitchen island. buck was blue screening, because not for the first time that night all the blood in his body was pooling south and it was only pure instinct and where tommy's hands were placed that his legs immediately crossed around his waist.

"oh my god" buck sqeaked, placing his arms around tommy's neck and holding on for dear life. he couldn't remember ever being this turned on before. he was bulging painfully against tommy's stomach and their movement did nothing to alleviate the stiff confine of his jeans. tommy gracefully deposited him on top of the kitchen island, his hands grabbing at buck's thighs and burying his face in buck's neck.

"should i have warned you?" he asked sincerely before biting into whatever skin he could reach.

"n-no, ah, i told you you could be rough"

buck grabbed as much of tommy's hair as he could fit in his hand and pulled on it, making tommy moan against his throat. "you're so strong" he breathed dumbly.

"i am, but so are you" tommy chuckled, pulling away to finally meet his eyes. "you could probably throw me around if you wanted"

"if i wanted" buck repeated, and while he didn't roll his eyes his tone certainly suggested it. of course he wanted to try, but having any willpower over his arms or even hands right now felt like an impossible feat. he was so hard.

"i'm just saying, you're the first guy i've dated who's also a first responder. you're the only one i've been with who could even try to lift me" tommy explained.

how was he saying so many words? how was he so calm after what he just did? buck could feel the hard-on he was sporting because his pants left nothing to the imagination. why were they still fully clothed? buck had only gotten so far as to untuck tommy's shirt, and he was still wearing his stupid pretentious vest that had started everything. maybe it should stay on for the nights activities.

"yeah, uh. same" was all he managed in response, his hands occupied with feeling up tommy's shoulders and chest.

"wow, really?" tommy asked, and that bitchy sarcasm was back in his voice. the one that made buck feel just the right side of degraded. why hadn't he come to LA and started life out here a year earlier? he could have met tommy years ago, when they were both figuring things out. they could have had so much fun so much sooner.

"dick" he said when his brain failed him for anything better to say, but there was no heat behind it. judging by tommy's smug grin he could tell. "are you going to fuck me, or what?"

"don't be greedy" tommy said into their next kiss. his hands finally found their way inside the hem of buck's shirt, and buck pushed into the touch over the small of his back as much as he could. "i haven't decided yet"

"what is there to decide?" buck whined impatiently, biting at tommy's lower lip. "i want you, tommy. i need you so bad, please"

"well there you go, baby boy" tommy soothed. "i got you, all you had to do was ask"

buck shivered, grabbing at tommy's shoulders to bring him impossibly closer, attaching his mouth to his pulse point. "carry me upstairs?"

the sound that punched out of tommy was a mix of several things. a growl, a moan and a shudder all at once but there was something soft, almost vulnerable underneath it all. he placed both hands on buck's cheeks to steer him where he wanted him, making their eyes meet. there was an impossible fondness in his gaze, and buck couldn't tell if he wanted to duck from the attention or preen under it. tommy pulled him close and kissed him so sweetly, nothing like the hunger from moments earlier.

"is that what you want, baby?" he asked, voice soft and so, so attentive.

buck placed his own hand over one of tommy's wrists, squeezing it gently, not even trying to control the dopey smile no doubt washing over his expression.

"yeah, yes" pausing to take a breath, then holding his gaze steady as he continued. "carry me upstairs and let me show you how hot you make me"

tommy dove back in, capturing his mouth as soon as he finished the sentence.

"whatever you want, baby boy. i got you"

[isat-worldbuilding]

What is the sahaetians' general attitude towards outsiders? Are they welcoming like vaugardians, or are they more reserved and closed off?

From what I've been able to gather the average Sahaetian's attitude towards visitors is very formal, but welcoming. Though the exact way in which this hospitality is shown differs depending on how close of a relationship one has to the two Houses: Unaffiliated folks are usually louder than the House members or affiliates. Kasamosh affiliates tend to be more closed off unless they got to know someone first, but do become quite rowdy when you get to know them. Shaih Rasse affiliates are generally quite snarky and have a vague sense of superiority over others, but are usually very kind and cheery.

The city of Halaafi has very few royal residents so it's probably the best example of the general customs: Those who visit Halaafi can expect most people to be rather quiet, though most are quite happy to chat if you talk to them. Halaafi is known for their excellent wines, most of which will contain fermented Star Fruit juice (always locally farmed and made, apparently there's a slight difference in taste between western and eastern Star Fruit plants. But most of my foreign sources don't seem to notice it). The nightlife is also very lively, with many clubs and bars around. Overall the city is one of the best tourist destinations for someone who simply wants a good time. (I've also read a few newspapers mentioning "The Supernova Festival", which seems to be quite the attraction, but I've no details to speak of for now...)

In the center of the island is where most members of House Shaih Rasse are located, the two cities there (Uspeeri and Magrabi) are not popular destinations so the citizens are usually quite surprised at and welcoming toward outsiders, though there are also just fewer places to go if you want to hang out. The mountains do offer an incredible view of the surroundings though: looking north there is an incredible view of the forests and the northern mountains; and to the south, a great view of the channel separating Sahaet from Vaugarde. Hikers are much more prevalent here, and I've read they're quite welcoming! Though most visitors to Uspeeri have been researchers, academics and exchange students, as the Uspeeri University has enough resources to have their own Telescope (Something that not even the Hiisii Royal University has). Magrabi is an industrial hub, so they're similarly mostly visited by specialists, though it might be interesting to see the annual engineering competition (Sadly, I've yet to find anything concrete about it).

In the western parts there's Asensio and Siihii, I'll save the capital city for last so let's talk about Asensio: It is a farming city from which the Ministry of Agriculture is run (they also do most of the logging, lust barely ahead of Magrabi), and while the place has a good bit of history I cannot say it is particularly exciting compared to it's two closest neighbors, usually people will stop here while traveling between the Capital and the central cities. The influence of House Kasamosh is most felt here, they run the oldest theater in the country, which hosts only the most culturally impactful plays and music. They're quite patriotic. While they don't necessarily have a negative view of foreigners, they don't go out of their way to be particularly helpful. If you can push through this somewhat hostile outside you might be able to make a friend who has worked in the Sahaetian Navy, their stories are rather interesting indeed!

Now we of course have the shining star of the show: Siihii The capital is by far the largest city, housing around 24% of the island's population. Needless to say: you can find many different people here! In the outer ring of the city are usually unaffiliated folks who are either friendly and quiet, or friendly and very loud. There aren't as many night-time activities as in Halaafi, but there are unique places that aren't seen anywhere but the Capital. For one the Royal Hall of Arts and Culture has been opened for the commoners since the death of the first King, and it is a magical sight! The building is huge for one: it can hold up to 81k people at a time, and it holds art exhibitions, plays, opera, and more or less anything of artistic prominence originating from Sahaet, and it is quite regularly attended by the commoners and the nobility, with the King himself often in attendance. Moving onto the inner ring, there are many museums and libraries, a real treasure trove of knowledge. The only more expansive archive is in Uspeeri, but the Royal Archive is so restricted that only about 300 people have complete access to it (those being the parliament, the King, and anyone who was directly granted access by the King). The people here are almost all quite reserved, even public conversations turn from talking to whispering. The restaurants there are quite lively places at night, many classic songs are sung, much alcohol is consumed, and many younger people who would never set foot in a museum go to the inner ring to have some quality time in these spots. The center is sadly off-limits to the general public. That's where all the governing happens, so I doubt there's much that the average person would want to see there anyway. I'd love to see past that colossal entrance gate though... How intriguing it would be to see the inner workings of that island in real time.....

Hopefully this was a satisfactory answer! Sadly I've no relevant pictures to provide... Maybe a fellow visitor to my library has a visual they could donate? In the mean time, I'll keep looking for additional resources.

[kay9leo]

It's hard being the new kid...

Sort of "modern" HL AU

Meet Iñaki "MC" Martinez Cariaga! She's the new transfer student from the United States. She was late for the sorting ceremony so she's currently houseless right now, hence the gray tie. Unfortunately for MC, her ancient magic is a magnet for attracting trouble and getting her into situations she rather not be in, sort of like Percy Jackson.

Fun Facts:

Normally her eyes are brown, but ever since she ended up in the UK, if she's around the presence of high Ancient Magic activity, her own ancient magic activates, turning her eyes a magical blue. They also turn that color when she's using it. At the advice of Prof. Fig, she tries to keep a small flow of it running consciously if she's not at a nearby ancient magical source.

She's also big runes fan! Since her family comes from both Central and South America, she has a big love of studying Mayan glyphs and Incans quipus (they use that instead of runes to conducting their magic). She also knows some indigenous words in Kaqchikel and Quechua; some for fun and some for spell casting. Seeing Norse runes in person was the one thing she was definitely looking forward when going to Hogwarts.

While she doesn't originally goes by MC back in the States, it became her deferred nickname/shorten version of her double surname Martinez Cariaga to use at Hogwarts. She's gotten tired of both professors and peers taking too much time to say it or have them accidently butcher her surnames (or first name even). Her nickname of MC is used so often that it gets to the point that barely anyone remembers that her name is Iñaki 🤣

Ancient Magic & Hogwarts Castle

I headcanon that the Hogwarts Founders were ancient magic users who build Hogwarts and never told anyone about their abilities. Since the place is humming with Ancient Magic, MC's eyes are always a constant magical blue. It's when she leaves Hogwarts grounds that she has to focus on maintaining that magical flow.

The Big Move, Fourth Year & the Reserved New Girl

Unfortunately, Iñaki's dad lost his job during the first layoffs of the Great Recession in early 2008. Thankfully, he had a buddy who hooked him with a new temp job in London, causing the Martinez Cariaga family to move across the pond from New York to London during the end of summer. While she loved the idea of traveling and going to Europe (and maybe even learn more about the different ancient runes used there), she wasn't too pleased at the idea of moving abroad and leaving everything she knows and loves.

Instead of starting her freshman year with her close friend group at Excelsior (NYS magical school system, Ilvermorny is the New England private magical prep school - the most famous, oldest and only school most people know outside the US), Iñaki is starting 4th year at Hogwarts.

Note: The words between "< >" is spoken in Spanish. MC comes from a Spanish-speaking Latino household. If the words are not in between "< >" assume she's speaking English.

6: At the end of MC's first week:

MC:

<¡Hola Mami!>

< I'm fine. ¿And you? >

< Nothing interesting happened this week. >

< ¡NO! ¡It wasn't like I fought a dragon or a troll this week. >

< ¡Just because I faced the Jersey Devil in 6th grade or the Headless Horseman in 7th OR befriended Champ at Lake Champion in 8th doesn't mean weird things always happens to me! >

<¡I'm fine Mami! Nothing happened...>

<¡I had to Mami! ¡He told me he wanted to give me a "proper Hogwarts welcome" before we started! I told him "That's how we say 'Hello' in New York." Made it too easy for me by saying his spells out loud. The prof said I was a great example of how magical duels are different in the New World with our non-verbals...>

<He was cool with losing. ¡Sebastián even gave me a tour of the magical village nearby and introduced me to the "dueling club" the school has! >

< We dueled together…¡It was fun! I almost forgot how much I miss home… >

8:

MC:

< I still want to go home. >

< No Mami. I don't mean visiting you guys back in London. Home as in New York. >

< ¿Why should I make friends if we're only going to be here for a year?>

< ¿It's only a year...right? >

< ¿Right? >

< I gotta go...I promised my classmates I'll study with them for our exam next week. >

< I love you too. >

"Bye."

*Flips phone closed*

*Ends call*

......

MC's trying...but she is rather homesick.

She's now stuck in Hogwarts and isn't too keen on making friends since she has no clue whether she'll be there for a year or not - it all depends whether if they extend her father's work contract and she's isn't keen on making friends if she's only there for a few months in her mind. It gets to the point where Sebastian trying to friend her is like an unstoppable force meeting an unmovable object. (He ends up winning though when she accidently slips up and calls him her friend later on in the year).

For now though, MC is a very angsty teen right now and had her world flipped upside down.

At least she can take out her angst in dueling club 😅

I want to thank @myokk for listening to my ideas about my MC and to my sibling who needed to borrow my laptop for work (leading me to doodle and actually make a digital drawing on my tablet -that I use as a second monitor for work- since I couldn't edit some papers on those days). Without them this drawing wouldn't have happened.

I'm never doing this ever again because I a bit too perfectionist for art and I hated the number of layers I needed. It was supposed to just be a SIMPLE digital doodle!!!! Instead I made this 😭. Never again. I'm sticking to my pen doodles. I was bored out of my mind and I was either reading or doodling while my sis was testing out her new laptop and I was on stand by in case she needed me.

Click Here For Iñaki "MC" Martinez Cariaga Masterlist

[dolcinos]

LOVE the idea of a drunken Alfred going on a binge after a few weeks of dieting. He’s teetering on the edge of mobility before the diet, and just barely getting his massive ass around with a walker… before he gets feverish, craving a sugar bomb and squeezing his fat ass into *the* most awkward uber ride of his life… until after his binge, and literally rolls out of the car in front of Arthur, pathetically watching the driver watch in awkward horror… especially when he notices Arthur’s… interesting aura about the whole situation.

his cravings had started the first week and have just gotten worse ever since. after three weeks it is literally so unbearable that it has him folding LOL. he can usually force himself to have some willpower through the torturous diet and starvation methods he’s used to, but once alcohol comes into the picture it’s absolutely over. he folds big time. alfred is tipsy and ranting over the phone to arthur about how much he hates this diet, and screw it, he’s going to go out to a swanky dessert place at 10pm and eat his heart out!

i like to think that outside of the countryside/south, alfred spends a great majority of time in NYC which is very walkable in the city! so just imagine how pathetic it is that he’s calling an uber just to get down the block to the bodega on the corner these days!!!! literally not even a far walk at all but his legs start screaming and turn to jello just from walking a few feet, so it’s totally out of the question.

alfred’s hunger can overpower that humiliation ritual though. like, he shakily takes his very sturdy titanium walking cane and heaves his fat ass outside his house for the first time in a long time, he seriously can’t remember the last time he went out since all he does it order constant food deliveries…

the driver is literally sweating seeing alfred’s massive form approach, LMAO. maybe not sweating as much as 750lb alfred is, wobbling over very slowly with his cane, crossing the sidewalk to the curb where a very old silver honda civic is waiting for him. it’s trouble just to try and force one of his fat, rolly, lipedema-filled legs in, and even then— dude is taking up the entire back row of the little car. the bumper is kissing the ground, the tires are screeching, the suspension is fucked. alfred’s ass had been so jiggly and huge that it’s a wonder he even squeezed in. it took plenty of sucking in, and his double rolled belly is pushed up firmly against both the driver seat and passenger seat as he sits taking up the whole row…but he’s wedged in. fucking finally!

all of this strain is worth it to eat his precious chocolates and whipped cream and cakes again! nevermind the fact that he’s already winded and breathing heavy like a woman in labor. arthur is meeting him there and alfred just has to binge. his body is itching for it, his lardy heart literally pounding in anticipation (arousal!)

alfred nearly trips and falls over himself when he finally squishes out of the uber. arthur has to help him and the driver certainly doesn’t miss the way that arthur is very eagerly grabbing every bit of fat in order to “get alfred out of the car.” and how he licks his lips, too!

but at least alfred tips the guy well for his troubles!

sidenote— i just know arthur loves to see him try to squish into small places. in fact he does it on purpose most of the time, like meeting alfred at a restaurant and purposefully having reserved a booth, or taking him out to a pub that he knows has very narrow doorways… even better that he can frame those situations as wanting to humiliate alfred for getting so obese :) that is the aura: arthur framing it as poking fun of the guy like always when in actuality he’s hard as fuck underneath his trousers.

[thoughtsandbones]

Revelations and Misconceptions

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!MedicDoc OC (codename: Blue) 💀💙

WARNINGS: Mention of alcohol, war, profanity, medical inaccuracies and just getting the POV of our friendly neighbourhood masked menace.

Plot: Doctor Ruhari Hari Kaur (OC is South Asian ☺️) joins the 141 again, but this time as their doctor. After the betrayal of Shepherd and Graves, Task Force 141 begins their hunt on his whereabouts and locating Makarov.

PLEASE reblog and like! Hope folks are enjoying the series, I am building up characters and plots, cos I have a lot ideas and just been enjoying writing :D

Song inspo: Sonne - Rammstein

A/N: Flashbacks are getting messed up when I am indenting them and I am getting lots of errors when publishing the work, please bare with some mistakes and spelling issues.

RAMC - Royal Army Medical Corps

I grew up with the OG MW2 game, so there are some references to the old one, so kind of a mix of both the OG and the new timeline... (Also I'm ignoring the OG Shepherd betrayal and keeping in line the one with the new timeline..)

All rights reserved to the rightful owners of Call of Duty Modern Warfare.

spelling and some grammar mistakes as I am bad at times... :/

(FYI: bold sentences... that are like this... are supposed to describe redacted data/info to the plot... ;] .. )

Please do let me know how you all are finding this fanfic! :D

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7 and PART 8

Part 9

LIABILITY?! FUCKING LIABILITY!! The thought rang through your head as you walked back to the training course and hand in the pistols and the cleaning kit.

You head back our from the base and catch Price and Ghost walking out from the garage, you hear Price call out your name but you don't respond, you just keep walking ahead to Building 2, quickening your pace to trying to increase the distance between you and Price and that masked menace.

Once inside you sprint up to the infirmary and see Soap waiting outside, leaning back against the infirmary door, head lowered with one leg bent against the door. Soap lifts his head up as he hears you approach. You take the key out of your pocket and Soap moves away from the door, giving a smile to you.

"Hey lass-" He begins

"It's Dr Kaur" You snap at him unlocking the door giving him a cold stare. Ghost reignited the diminished anger and you felt like you were on fire with rage.

Soap was shocked. Did I really annoy you that much last night?

"I'm sorry about last night" Soap said, following you into the infirmary, watching you go round the table and sit. The same look on your face that you had earlier in the mess hall. Soap felt nervous for first time in a long time.

Leaning back in the chair you take a deep breath. You look back at Soap with regret. You didn't mean to snap at him.

"No, I'm sorry sergeant." You say "I've been in a shit mood and I should not have snapped at you like I did just now" You add, sighing leaning back further in the chair.

Soap stepped closer, your face now relaxed. You gesture at the empty seat opposite you, and Soap sits, leaning close to you over the desk.

"Yer alright Doc- tor Kaur?" He stammered

You smile, "Doc is fine" you say. "Just a shit day."

Soap nods.

"How's the head" You ask

"Been better" Soap responded

"Still drinking water?"

"Aye" he says, pulling out a steel flask from his pocket of his fatigues.

"Good"

"I did not mean to say those things or offend you you last night Doc" Soap said

You smile, huffing a small laugh. The rage simmered down within you.

"So you don't think I'm pretty?" You say, widening your eyes, leaning forwards resting your head on your right hand.

Soap felt his cheeks flush has he washed your expression change to this doe-eyed look.

"I err-- what?" Soap said stammering. Seems like Gaz, Price and Ghost missed out a crucial piece of information from the events of last night.

Laughing aloud at the flustered look taken ahold of Soap.

"Last night you said:" you clear your throat

"Yer real pretty" you say mimicking Soap's Scottish accent. You laugh again, the rage now washing away.

"Ah Jesus" Soap says burying his head in his hands.

"It's all good, don't worry. We all say shit when we're drunk" You say reassuringly.

"It was the first time I tried sambuca since I was a young lad" Soap chuckled, lifting his head up. You were beaming, your smile showed off a slight dimple in your right cheek.

"Also, I don't want you to think I'm er..." Soap said, struggling to say the words correctly. "homophobic" he whispered

You looked at Soap shocked. "Soap, you are not. Most men are surprised when they find out I've been with a woman"

Soap was still looking at with concern in his eyes.

"How yer feeling after that Dr Jones fella?" Soap asked

You shrug your shoulders.

"Target course helped" You say, omitting the details of what Price and Ghost said. You didn't want to get angry again.

"Aye, you're a good shot" Soap said nodding at you. "Been impressed with your skills, even after all these years" he adds

You look back, pondering if he also thought you'd be a 'liability' in the field.

"Hmmm" you mumbled

On your desk, lies the black notebook. Suddenly you remember the tasks that lay within, mostly importantly, the 141 were going on a mission in two days and you needed to make sure their med kits and that they were fit enough to be deployed.

"Sergeant, you leave in two days right?" You say

"Aye, to Urzikstan" Soap says

"How's your med kit?" You ask

Soap lifted his head, pondered at the thought.

"Think it needs re-filling" He responded.

"Is Captain Price calling a general meeting before deployment?"

"Aye, along with Laswell"

You nod along. "When?" You ask, reaching for the black notebook, and flicking to a new page.

"Tomorrow afternoon I believe, Laswell gets in tomorrow morning so guessing sometime tomorrow." Soap says. "You comin' with us?" He asks, raising his eyebrows.

At that same moment, Price walks in, followed by Ghost who stood by the door.

"No, apparently I am a liability" You say coldly, staring straight at Ghost. Soap turned around and saw Price and Ghost and gave them a nod.

"Hari" Price said "That was a suggestion" He added

"That I'm a liability or getting the active duty status?" You ask, flickering your eyes between Ghost and Price.

"Yer allowing her to be on active duty?" Soap quipped turning to Price

"No.." Price said sternly, looking at Soap and then to you.

Ghost stood in the doorway, staring at the ground whilst he could feel the daggers you were giving him. A part of him regretted what he said, but knows that it is for the best.

Soap looked at you and then at Ghost, the looking tension flickered and began to rise within the atmosphere.

Your eyes met Ghosts. Was he even going to say anything at all? Briefly looking at your watch then back to Ghost, who continued to stare back, he finally broke his gaze, looking at his shoes. You look at your watch again. 21 seconds..

Price sighed heavily, noticing the staring contests, turned to Ghost and gave him a stern look. Soap smirked slightly; something happened between you two surely..

"Soap says Laswell is coming in tomorrow, I'd like to part of the debrief prior to the mission. I also need to check the med kits." You say whilst jotting down the notes in your notebook.

"Debrief is at 2pm in BR.04" Price said finally easing the tension. "You will meet Kate Laswell, Station Chief" Price added

Looking up, you nod and smile "Looking forward to it sir"

"Do yer need to do medical overviews Doc?" Soap says

"In what sense?" You say looking up to Soap, witnessing a sheepish grin appear.

"Check our vitals and all? Mission prep eh?" Soap glees

"Good shout Soap, routine health check ups tomorrow morning" Price concluded nodding to Soap, who nods back and then turns to Ghost, who was still in the doorway.

Ghost glared at Price and Soap, he then looked at you, continuing to write in your journal.

"Right then. Let's go lads, we as a team, have lot to do before our debrief tomorrow" Price says looking at the three members in the room.

"I shall send an email to you all this evening at what times I'll do these.. health checks.." You wearily say looking at Price and Soap.

Price smiles at you, turns to leave, Ghost swiftly left as Price moved towards the door. Soap sat in the chair looking at you.

He leans forwards and lets out a sigh, you look up from your notebook and weakly smile at Soap.

"Hope yer alrigh' Doc" Soap asks, eyes gleaming with concern. You could tell he was being genuine, and not at all cold and glacier cold like Ghost...

"Yeah, I'll be good Soap" You say, trying to smile.

Soap looks back and nods, he finally gets up.

'For the record, I don't think yer a liability, I think yer'd be great, being with us on missions" Soaps says and grins and gives a wink.

A light laugh leaves your lips. You watch on as Soap leaves the infirmary, the door remaining open.

You flick through to the end of your notebook, beneath a set of numbers, you jot down 21 seconds. You scan the column, ranging from 56 seconds to 14 seconds and to 1 minute. The amount of time Lieutenant Ghost has been staring at you.

It's understandable this guy has trust issues, but surely he has to have a valid no bullshit reason for not wanting you on missions.

You look up, and as the thought flashes through your nerves within the grey of your brain, eyes widening at the revelation.

Unless he knows about what happened in Siberia ...

[scalamore]

Lari's memories of TL1 with House Belois

Not spoilers as this is a nice summary of the pieces that were revealed so far in the manwha

Up to age 12, Lari was routinely sent to the “room of repentance” (nice name….) for “acting bad”. This includes defying parents, not studying, not wanting to do something etc. They would lock her in the dark room - which she hates even now - by herself for an unknown amount of time (early chapters). (Psychological discipline)

When they felt Lari was being particularly stubborn and defiant, they would bring out the whip/cane to physically punish her. It’s implied it happened relatively often, because Lari cursed at Lehan for not even resisting and just easily going to the next room to grab it. Even Trash dad says “it’s not serious enough this time to cane her” - again, suggesting she was physically disciplined a few times.

When the kidnappers in chapter 47ish were beating her up, she made a strange comment of “I’ve never been beaten up this badly before” ….. if she had never been beaten up at all, wouldn’t she say something like “I’ve never been beaten like this before??

In the novel, when Arnulf’s maids beat her up, Lari made a strange comment of “She wasn’t sure why, but she knew that she needed to protect her head and stomach, so she curled up into a tight ball to protect those areas” This sounds to me like she doesn’t remember getting hurt, but her body remembers instinctively on how to protect herself when it happens

Lari ate the bare minimum, and didn’t go outside so she can be “thin and pale” Iike a proper lady. She was ridiculously thin where she easily fit into corsets, and was shorter than her TL2 self by a few inches.

She never went shopping by herself, all her needs were given by House Belois (Ch 27?)

She never left the south by herself; she only went to Champagne with family - she was always under the watchful eye of her family ALL THE TIME

In ch 82(?) Trash dad said he wanted her to be under his protection at all time, in his fenced-off area, not knowing anything for her safety (yup for sure this happened in TL1)

Lari admits early on in TL2 that she’s scared and just wants her father to guide her and tell her what to do, but after she felt he didn’t believe her regression, she chose to take matters in her own hands - but yes, she really wanted her father to solve things for her but lost faith in him in chapter 58.

didn’t get along well with Lehan, they were very distant

Killing her self esteem because they destroyed all marriage offers for her, making her think she was undesirable both in appearance and personality. They allowed some gross baron to ask for her hand in marriage, and of course she rejected that. IT messed with her self esteem that literally, her option was to be alone or with a gross baron??? (early chapters)

Killing her self esteem x2 because she was gloomy, quiet, and reserved, and wore a pathetic brown dress that covered her up like a nun with no accessories. she didn’t know how to socialize and was a wallflower during her debutante. She was excited that Prince Rupert introduced himself to her, but got really sad when she realized that he introduced himself to “Lariette Isabelle de Belois” because he had an eye on House Belois, not because he was introducing himself to her as a person (early chapters)

Trash dad didn’t even sponsor her Debutante; Lari had actually was very excited for it in TL1 and resorted to Aunt Amelia for help, and scraped together the bare minimum…. And that led to disastrous results. It was so disastrous that she didn’t even WANT a debutante in TL2, because she’s so afraid of repeating the results.

Lari has NEVER defied or went against her parents, because they knew what was best for her and the family (mentioned multiple times)

In TL2, the unchanging Trash dad continues to gaslight her in saying she was rebellious, bad child, upsetting Lari because she’s trying her best and they don’t acknowledge it at all. (mentioned multiple times)

Again, it’s interesting how all the memories she’s revealed to us there’s literally NO HAPPY MEMORIES.

I really think that during her isolation in that dark jail cell for months, she did some serious repression of her memories of the negative and only clung to the positives because that was the only way she could cope with life at that time. Her words are telling as well, from the novel version of Ch 84 - “The moment I lost my family, i realized how precious they were. The things most precious to us are usually so close that you wouldn’t realize how truly precious they are until it’s lost.” She lived a comfortable, ignorant life guided by her family the whole time. Without them around, she, as a very sheltered, ignorant girl, could not cope with the stress of the situation, and clung to all the happy memories to try to survive another day… and also placed unreasonable hatred and blame on Rupert in the meantime.

On a side note, the in real-life example of Lari’s situation is if she were raised by helicopter parents that dictated her every move, stunting her own growth and development and maturity, and when left on their own, the kid would fail at everything and be a nervous, anxious, and depressed mess :(.

[better-central-sc]

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Food in Central is all about local spots with a cozy, welcoming feel. You’ll find a mix of Southern comfort food, casual diners, and a few international options. Barbecue joints serve up slow-cooked favorites, while small cafés offer homemade pastries and fresh coffee. Being close to Clemson adds variety, with college-friendly restaurants and food trucks just a short drive away. If you’re craving something specific, nearby towns have more choices, including upscale dining and global flavors. Farmers’ markets and local produce stands give you fresh ingredients if you like to cook at home. It’s not a huge food scene, but the places here feel personal, and the flavors are rich. There’s always a good meal to be found, whether you want something quick or a sit-down experience.

Central-Clemson Recreation Center in Central, SC

If you’re looking for a spot to stay active, the Central-Clemson Recreation Center has you covered. It’s a popular place for locals, offering a little bit of everything—indoor swimming, a fitness center, basketball courts, and group workout classes. The pool is great for laps or just cooling off on a hot day, and if you prefer lifting weights or using machines, the gym area has solid options. They also have fitness programs for all ages, from kids to seniors. Membership fees are reasonable, and if you’re a Clemson student or resident, you might get a discount. It’s a laid-back, welcoming spot, whether you’re serious about fitness or just want a place to move around and have fun.

SC Senate Bill Aims to Fix Business Insurance Crisis. Critics Say It Benefits Insurers.

It’s easy to see why this bill has sparked such a heated debate. On one hand, business owners are drowning in rising insurance costs, and the current liability laws seem unfair—why should a company be forced to pay massive damages when it’s barely at fault? That said, critics have a point: there’s no guarantee this bill will actually lower insurance rates. What’s stopping insurers from just pocketing the extra money? And that 13-month delay before victims can sue? That feels like a win for insurance companies, not for everyday people. It’s a tricky situation. Businesses need relief, but if the fix just shifts the burden onto accident victims while insurance companies rake in profits, that’s not much of a solution. There’s got to be a better way to balance fairness for everyone.

Link to Map Driving Direction

Central-Clemson Recreation Center 130 Commons Way #4107, Central, SC 29630, United States

Head northwest toward Commons Way 151 ft

Turn right onto Commons Way 240 ft

Turn left onto Cross Creek Rd 0.1 mi

Turn left onto SC-93 N/W Main St 0.6 mi

Turn left onto Vickery Dr 312 ft

Turn left onto Sumter Ln 269 ft

Turn left  Destination will be on the right 49 ft

The Reserve at Clemson 103 Sumter Ln, Central, SC 29630, United States

[theoakandthemistletoe]

Name: Sophie / Zazka

Race: Human / Hobgoblin

Age: 28 / 28

Class: Cleric (Peace Domain) / Monk

Alignment: Neutral Good / Lawful Good

STR 8 DEX 12 CON 16 INT 10 WIS 18 CHAR 14 STR 14 DEX 18 CON 14 INT 10 WIS 14 CHAR 8

Background: Although born in the northern county of Tirynn, Sophie's family moved south when she was a young girl in response to war and famine. Why they thought Scrantz, a county notorious for its jingoistic nobles situated on the edge of a desert, would be an improvement is something of a mystery. Perhaps they couldn't afford to live in the wealthier central counties, or perhaps, having travelled as far as the desert in their search for a better life, they were unable to go further. Perhaps there were other, deeper reasons, although Sophie has never elaborated.

Regardless, once settled in Scrantz, her life was comfortable and uneventful. She was educated in the local temple, like most lower class children, and when she came of age she chose to repay her debt to them by continuing her studies as a cleric. She worked hard but never quite reached the level of the paladins, whose devotion she admired from afar. As much as she wished she could emulate their passionate worship, a cynical voice in the back of her mind, which she tries to ignore, kept her from throwing herself fully into the service of the gods and made her unpopular with some influential members of the clergy, who don't appreciate having their faith questioned even if it is done with the best of intentions.

Zazka, meanwhile, barely knows where to begin when people ask about her history, not least because hobgoblins are rarely shown such personal interest. After growing up in the wild desert borders of southern Scrantz, where her clan was frequently involved in clashes with the militia, she travelled around the country seeking to prove herself more than just a tall goblin, living without a permanent home and finding herself frequently harassed by adventurers looking for some evil to righteously slay.

Witnessing a monk in action in the marketplace inspired her to seek out a cloister, with mixed results. As a fiery, opinionated individual, she struggled with the philosophy of the monks, who finally suggested she return to the outside world and learn to control her temper before she focused on controlling her magical energies.

Still in pursuit of enlightenment and understanding, Zazka next tried the temple in Scrantz, hoping for a refuge from the prejudice her race faces from the general public and, perhaps, to learn something from the peace inside its walls. There she met many of the same problems. Although she respects authority and the law, she does so almost to a fault, and she believes that the slightest transgression of rules deserves swift retribution.

She met Sophie after being made to clean the temple as a punishment for arguing with a fellow theological student. The pair quickly formed a friendship and continued to find excuses to work together, until that friendship blossomed into a deep, loving partnership. Through Sophie's gentle example of patience and tranquility, Zazka finally began to understand the basics of the monks' teaching.

Their comfortable life together was turned upside down one summer when Maggie introduced them to a group planning to deal with a fey creature known as the Firefly Queen. At the time, Maggie reasoned that Zazka's life on the road and the fey ancestry of her race might prove useful, and Sophie wouldn't let her partner go without her. Since then, they have been the (occasionally reluctant) cornerstones of a group which typically includes some combination of the druid Morris, the barbarian Toz, the bards Vynlan and Fria, and the fighter Skullduggan.

Personality: Sophie is calm, friendly, and polite. Whether she likes it or not, she frequently acts as the group's mediator and therapist, able to see both sides of most stories, and she has deep reserves of patience. She doesn't like talking about herself much, but since the majority of people she travels with don't like asking, that works out quite well. She is curious and questioning, which annoys even Zazka at times, but usually knows when to refrain from further prodding. Skullduggan once described her as "destined to be somebody's grandmother", presumably intended as an insult -- Zazka certainly took it that way -- but Sophie only smiled and advised her against wasting her ki.

Where Sophie would have made an ideal monk, Zazka, in contrast, struggles to contain her emotions, wears her heart on her sleeve, and isn't very diplomatic in the way she speaks to others. She can focus her mind and body in a fight, but in her personal life, she is awful at showing the restraint and self-control expected of her class. As mentioned before, she strongly believes in rules and hierarchy, and does not take well to those who undermine the system. At her heart, however, she cares about people, especially those she's loyal to, and only gets herself in trouble because she has such passionate faith in her beliefs.

[anniemika]

Take care of you

Eren Jaeger x Female Reader

NSFW CONTENT!

Summary: Eren knows how to exhaust your body in more ways than one.

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: unprotected penetrative sex, oral sex F receiving, slight choking, creampie, suggestive language

.....

Going on a ski vacation with Eren and your friends was something you’d both wanted to do for a long time, and this year, you took it upon yourself and got on with the planning, finally making it happen. You’d reserved this big villa with separate rooms for everyone, with each bedroom having its own bathroom, a huge jacuzzi outside of the house, and an enormous living room with a fireplace at the center of it. It was all just how you’d imagined it, even better, and you were more than happy to start your little getaway from your daily lives.

After your first day, however, what you’d come to realize was that your boyfriend wasn’t one for staying still and just relaxing. Oh no, he was the type that would wake you up at 8:00 o’clock sharp, get your ski equipment ready, and spend the entire day on the most dangerous slopes without taking so much as a 5-minute break. It was like he wasn’t even human, and you could spend endless hours wondering where he got the energy from, but you’d never really find an answer.

So needless to say, after an entire day with him, you were pretty much exhausted. After making dinner with your friends and almost falling asleep on the table, you decided to go take a bath and just lay in bed with a good book in hand until you fell asleep. You somehow succeeded in convincing Eren in letting you go, turning down his proposition of falling asleep on his lap while you all watched a movie together because you really needed a bed.

As you laid in the comfort of the incredibly soft mattress after taking the most relaxing bubble bath, you were just beginning to doze off after reading “The Prisoner of Azkaban” for the 100th time, until you heard the showerhead being turned on in the bathroom. You looked at the time, realizing Eren probably got tired after all because it wasn’t even an hour since you got to bed. Remembering that you forgot to brush your teeth, you put on your fluffy slippers and ambled towards the bathroom.

Now, maybe it was because you were still sleepy, but the way you absolutely ignored your fully-naked, incredibly hot boyfriend while he washed his body like he was in a shower gel commercial was something he did not expect. You were moving your hands like a robot, scrubbing at your teeth with your toothbrush as he watched how his favourite “Nirvana” T-shirt, that you so shamelessly stole from him to be your new nightgown, barely covered your fine, fine ass. All kinds of thoughts came rushing into his mind, and he really, really tried his absolute best to stop them, because he knew you were worn out, but in the end, he couldn’t help it. His blood went rushing south, and when you bent over the sink to remove some leftover mascara from your eyelash, exposing what was left of his imagination, he couldn’t just stand and look at you from afar.

That’s why when he got out of the shower, he didn’t even wipe the droplets of water off his body, his big arms instantly finding their place around your smaller frame. You jumped, his sudden appearance stunning you.

“Ren, you scared me.” You turned to give him a lazy peck on the lips, the bit of foam you had left from the toothpaste coloring his pretty mouth.

“Sorry” you barely heard him, because what you felt next was his rock-hard member pressing against your bare ass.

“Babe, I’m so tired.” You almost whined out the words, leaning your head back against his uncovered chest.

“I know” he kissed the side of your head “let me take care of you.” He grabbed his length and began pumping it between your ass cheeks, with you gasping from the way his tip brushed against your entrance.

“Eren..” your hand went to the back of his neck, fingers curling around his loose hair and pulling him closer so you could kiss him again. It was true that you couldn’t even stand up straight, but no amount of exhaustion could make you resist him fucking you with that big cock he had on him. You weren’t one to miss opportunities.

After sharing a fervent kiss with his tongue sliding in rhythm against your own, Eren slipped his hand under your shirt, his fingers playing with your hardened nipple as he spat on his other one, dipping two digits inside your heat. His mouth found yours again as he began thrusting them inside you slowly, feeling your slick and spreading it around your pussy, applying a bit more pressure on your clit. Your muffled moans echoed throughout the small space you were in, your body instinctively moving back and forth into his hand.

Then, while your lips were still interlocked with his, you felt his whole length fill you up at once, with you letting a deep cry of pleasure, the feeling of fullness making your whole body tremble with excitement.

“Shh” Eren’s big palm covered your mouth “be quiet.”

And that you were, for a total of 5 seconds. It wasn’t your fault that with every rock of his hips, you felt him kiss your cervix over and over, and it sure wasn’t your fault that he was doing it as fast as he was, either.

“You want everyone to hear us?” You caught his breathy voice “Hear that tight little cunt?”

You couldn’t care one bit if you had to be honest, but you didn’t mind the way he talked to you, nor the way he put his rough fingers inside your mouth, making you gag on them, nor the way he roughly pinched your nipples every time you got a little bit louder. No, you didn’t mind any of that at all.

“You feel so good baby” Eren’s strong hold around you made every thrust that much harder, your eyes shining in pure bliss as he moved his fingers from your mouth to the little pearl between your legs. “I bet if you cum you’re gonna feel even better.”

The moment his fingertips landed on your little happy place, your mouth fell agape.

“Sloppier.”

Oh how good he knew you, how perfectly he moved his fingers around your clit, knowing exactly what to say and do to you to bring you over the edge in seconds. Sometimes you wondered if you really were this easy to please or if he was the sole reason for you losing your mind every time he fucked you. You kind of knew the answer, because even you couldn’t bring yourself that much pleasure no matter how horny you were. It was like your body wasn’t even yours, reacting to him in ways it never did before you met him. It was his.

Your orgasm was just around the corner, heart hammering inside your chest and nails sinking into the side of his thigh, demanding more. Unluckily for you, the exhaustion from the day began to catch up with your legs, not being able to hold yourself up as he mercilessly rammed his cock inside your little hole.

“Eren, my legs are shaking” you blurted out and he groaned, biting your shoulder and turning you around, lifting your plush ass so you could sit on the sink. He immediately spread your legs apart and kneeled to latch his long tongue on your bud.

“Oh my god, oh my god-“ you came almost instantly, his fingers having pretty much done the job just seconds before, and his tongue only finishing it. You were so glad though because it was so different cumming on that experienced muscle of his, increasing the intensity of your orgasm to new extremes.

Your moans were so loud, Eren couldn’t keep his chuckle in, giving your thigh a harmless slap. He then came up and kissed your mouth with your juices still dribbling off his chin. Never breaking the kiss, he slipped his dick inside you again, moans falling from him from all the wetness, his big palms landing on your ass-cheeks to steady himself and slam inside you even harder.

“Do you want me to cum inside you?”  He grabbed your jaw, intense green eyes staring at your fucked-out face. His thick eyebrows were knitted together so beautifully, plump lips parted, with the sexiest possible grunts escaping them.

A breathy “yes” escaped your mouth between all the other incomprehensible sounds, just the thought making your pussy clench.

“Say it.” His palm moved from your jaw to your neck, squeezing it gently.

“Please cum inside me” you knew that the little “please” would make him lose what was left of his mind, his thoughts becoming incoherent as his animal instincts took over.

“Yeah?” He squeezed your throat a little tighter, slamming himself inside you until you felt him in your tummy.

“Please” you circled your arms around him as he fastened his movements. “I want to feel you fill me up.” You greedily moved yourself forward, meeting his hips halfway, just waiting for him to paint your walls.

“Faster” you choked out, not even sure if it was possible, but of course it was because this was Eren, and he’d be damned if he didn’t listen to his girl’s requests.

Your lips parted in a muted “oh” with him mimicking that same expression as his orgasm hit. You pulled him in a kiss, tongues clashing together as he softly moaned into your mouth. His sounds were so pretty, you just wanted to stay like this and listen to them forever.

When his high died down, he slowly pulled out, eyes exploring the mess he made of your pussy.

“You know baby” he cupped your face, planting a cute little kiss on your nose, “I think it’s better if we stay in tomorrow.”

“Yeah?” You grinned.

“Yeah.” And he returned it.

Needless to say, with all the dirty looks you got in the morning, it was better not to risk someone pushing you off your ski.

.....

A/N: I’m on a ski trip with my boyfriend rn and let’s just say it gave me a lot of scenarios for vacation sex🥰 maybe I’ll post another one soon, who knows