#im-too-stoopid-to-name-this

[cerealmonster15]

PITAYA DRAGON COOKIE PLEASE WEIGH IN ON YOUR BATTLE WIFE'S NEW LOOK

[proselles]

thing one and dumbass two

[brownied0ll]

L. O. V. E

Warning: suggestive at the end | clingy-ish y/n | Just ony | pet names like: ma, mama ,baby ,bae

⚠️ not proofread ⚠️

“Babyyyy” you dragged the “y” while you shook him just a little bit trying to get his attention “bruh bae move get off me” you made a lil stank face

“why you actin’ like that…” “cuz you shakin’ me knowing I’m playin’ the game, you being extra right now” “YOU extra I didn’t even do nothing ! not too much lil nigga..” you said Under your breath.

But what the crazy thing was… he ain’t even say nothing back like usually he would’ve said “watch ya mouth” or sum like that he just let you walk away!

Once you got off the bed you started walking towards the walk-in closet texting your homegirls back saying “y’all know what? Nvm I will be outside today!” They texted back said they pick you up at 6 it was only 3:46 but you know you take a while to get ready so you wanna start early.

You was in the closet looking threw all them clothes you had, but you wanted to make Ony mad since he wanna act up, so you picked out a certain outfit he probably wasn’t gon like.

He was already confused when he heard the shower starting because he knows your whole schedule and this wasn’t the time you usual start your showers, but he ain’t worry about it he just kept playin his STOOPID game.

But he got even more confused when you were scouring the drawers in front of the tv in your little towel, looking for who knows what, till he saw you bring out a white lacey thong which he didn’t care but he aint see you grab a bra maybe you already had one.. yeah…

You was in the bathroom doing washing your face then started doing skincare, you heard him get off the the bed and go down the stairs, “…boy so you don’t feel the need to come see what I’m doinggg??”

You had thought in your head but you started brushing your teeth then you took off your bonnet, unt unt unt, baby you betta fix dat lace fronttt! which you did it was super cute then you started doing your edges.

Your hair was so cute! You started putting that outfit on, it was 5:27, “DANGG time went fast” you said to yourself quietly then you heard ony coming back in the room walking to towards the bathroom.

“Oh now he wanna see what I’m doing..” you thought to yourself shaking yo head side ta side, he came up behind you and started kissing yo neck and holding it while he other hand went down your stomach.

“damn ma.. you look fine as hell.. where we going?” You was was feelin him but you forgot you was supposed to be mad so you moved his hand from youre stomach and fixed you lashes.

“Mama? I asked you a question.” He said sturnly which kinda turned you on because you love when he got that tone to his voice. “WE not going nowhere. IM going out wit’m homegirls” you said smacking your lips after.

“What’you’mean” he said letting go of you completely “exactly what I said” you took you phone swiping up from the wallpaper of you and ony. Checking your messages and the time. It was 5:53 your home girl texted you that they was almost outside.

“Watch out it’s time fo me to go.” You said with a lil sas he watched you walk away he didn’t stop you, he wanted to! But he didn’t. You started putting your shoes on, with your pretty anklet and the necklace with your name on it.

Your girls was out side so you left, he was mad. You knew he was mad. He was especially mad when he seen your instagram post twerking on one of your homegirls lap. with a caption saying : “if my man don’t wont catch it my bsfs will!” With another video under it of you with someone spreading money on yo back while you twerk.

He thought about running over to that party and picking you up right away. But he didn’t. Cuz you were in for it when you got home. Oh, you was REALLY in for it when you got back.

You friend dropped you off yall did your goodbye kisses & hugs then you was finna put the key in the door but it swung open, a strong arm pulling you in then picking you up.

“Ony whatdafuck??” You said as he threw you on the bed “first you was giving me attitude then you runnin ya mouth AND shakin ya ass on someone else?? You must be crazy. Gon head take off all dat shit like bro.. you ain’t even got a bra on wit that tight ass- mannn you pissing me off more and more.”

You rolled you eyes and started undressing. Let’s just say last night was memorable.

HEY BABYESSS so if I make a pt2 it probably be of “last night” (I apologize if links don’t work I check every other day ta see jus in case!)

[cherubnthechaoschoir]

UP IN YOUR ARMS (CHAPTER ONE) -Noir!Joel Miller x AFAB!Reader

summary: The Canary Club. Illicit. Underground. Dangerous too. But nowhere near as dangerous the affair you and Joel start there.

a note from Lucy: chapter one! I'm digging my own grave here. thats all im saying. i promise it is focused on joel and the reader later in the chapter. im just setting the scene for differnt relationships in the series.

playlist

wc: 6969 (haha lol) Warnings: 18+ MDNI! DARK CONTENT! 1940s!au, no outbreak, no use of y/n, age gap (reader is in her early 20’s and Joel is in his 40s), smut. p in v sex, oral - f receiving, oral through panties, choking, groping, sexism, mentions of racism, touch starved joel, me being back on my bullshit, drinking, ,smoking, throwing fists because men are stoopid and cant talk things out, cheating on the readers part, but joel knows this and still fucks her like the horny bastad he is. *sigh*, use of pet names such as doll, cursing, ww2 references, an unhealthy relationship between reader and joel, mentions of blood, let me know if ive missed any warning out that should be tagged. 6969 words of unedited bullshit because im piss drunk and cant for the life of me edit.

series m.list | m.list

The jazz band was one of the finest groups in the city. ‘Only the finest for The Canary Club’, as Johnny had put it. 

Johnny Boy Finnick. 

Now he was a man. Played sports in college, muscular, strong arms that pinned you to the wall or mattress or table. Hands that shuffled playing cards with ease and had you screaming far after the night was over. Deep blue eyes and blonde hair that never fell out of place from its slicked back style. Not even after he had crushed someone's jaw under the weight of his pummeling, bloodlusting fist.  

Johnny made a name for himself bootlegging liquor, too young to fight in the first world war. Took over as The Boss of Boston. It’s how he got his name. Johnny Boy. Fresh faced but the heart of a ragged old man. Lost it all after the second world war, gained it back not long after. A killer with a bone deep yearning for blood, money, violence, and you. 

He sat in his pressed suit, legs parted as he leaned over to display his full flush to the table, flashing a killer smile when he collected the money off his right hand man and three more of his boys. You smiled from the bar, beads of your dress twinkling in the low light of the speakeasy, ready to waltz over with another old fashioned and drape yourself in his lap.

“Thanks, Henry.” You smiled at your oldest friend, taking the drink he had placed down in front of you on the bar. Henry was your age, 25. A boy from Hartford, Connecticut, grew up in Kansas, then moved here looking for work in a big city. Honest, hardworking. Sweeter than cherry pie. And his little brother Sam was just the cutest pip you'd ever seen. 

“No problem, Doll.” He teased, which deserved a roll of the eyes from you. 

“How many times have I asked you not to call me that?”

“This would make it…” he glanced up for a second, as if calculating within his mind, “one too many times to count.”

“Funny.” You gave him a quick bitter smile. All in good fun, clearly, for he took no offence. He just shot you a smile, running a clean rag over the bartop, collecting two glasses and wiping the rings of condensation they left upon maplewood. 

“Your man looks thirsty. Might wanna take him his drink now. Before he gets the wrong idea about me talking to ya.” You sighed, craning your head slightly to look back at Johnny who scanned the place with a scowl. It made your skin crawl the thought of his temper snapping again. Despite it, you left Henry with a playful wink his way before swanning back over, placing Johnny’s drink in front of him and a vermillon kiss to his cheek. 

Johnny sneered at the affection, wiping your lipstick stain from his cheek. All the confidence you had fell to the floor and shattered miserably. Liquid courage sloshed on the cured wood floor.

“Fuck’s sake, Doll. What you do that for?” He demanded of you, the disgust in his cruel cerulean eyes sending a chilling, agonising jolt down your spine. 

“Sorry, Johnny.” You shied away, folded your hands together, eyes on the floor.

“Ain't you gotta powder your nose or something? Go on. Piss off.” 

He was right. You’d be on soon. Drenched in the spotlight. Under the scrutinising, side cramping glare of everyone's eye. You could do with the quiet. So you shuffled off to your dressing room without a word more, holding back tears with your breath. 

In the mirror, you mourned the girl you were. Mourned the life you had before it all turned upside down. Mourned the man you fell in love with. And the monster you had no choice but to stay with. 

—

Joel was fuming. If you touched his skin you'd reel back with a scorched yelp because his blood ran hot, fast and thick under his flesh. Trust Tommy to catch himself in the web of underground crime. Always a joiner. Always a deserter too when things got heated. And who was left to untangle him from its intricate, venom snared weave? Joel ‘Gubbins’ Miller. He might as well have ‘mother to my brother’ branded on his forehead. Because that's what he was now. 

The war ended four years ago and ever since Tommy had been searching for his purpose. Preached about it round the dinner table in their grimy, mildew inhabited apartment like a preacher would his sermon. And every time it set Joel’s teeth on edge. Because he knew what came after the downfall. The pickup. 

Now, however, Joel was determined to nip this lunacy in the bud. Tear it up from the soil by the new roots. 

The Canary Club was one of the few remaining speakeasies around in Boston. To a cop it was practically a ghost of an establishment. Might as well not be there. But to a man like Joel, whose brother never stopped babbling on about the next best thing he had cooking for himself, it was as easy as pie.  

A shroud of cloud hung just above Boston’s looming buildings, teaming with the early moon to create a murky gloom over the dim city’s sin. It seemed to fill the hollow, smoggy air as they cast dark, taut shadows over the slick, grimy roads. The sky threatened rain for the third day in a row. A place that reeked of underground crime, drug rings and watered down, once bootlegged alcohol, laced with what one can only assume to be illegal too. All of that was washed down with the constant sour smell of new rain upon dirty tarmac. A city plagued and tarnished by its own rejects.The promise of work bought them in. But the lifestyle spat them back out. Chewed up and ruined by their own humanising hope.

He and his brother came in search of work. They were getting nowhere down south in Texas. On the dole and barely able to afford a loaf of bread between the two of them. Even their own mother hardly recognised her boys after the war. Said they were empty shells of men. Husks of the boys she raised. Killers. 

The woman was a pacifist at heart. And it was a trait that Joel not only saw as weak, but typical of women. Or that's what his father had socialised him into thinking. He didn't know where his father’s ideals ended and his started. As the days went by he saw more of the violence his father harboured in himself. Grimaced at the lug in the looking glass. 

Joel was no pacifist. But he didn't storm through the doors either. No gun was in hand ready to send people screaming bloody murder. That was stupid. A mistake that he knew could wind him up on the concrete in the flooded gulley with a bullet in his head where blood and water could finally mix. Instead he stole in quietly in the ambience of playing cards and a Jazz band, ordered himself a drink, and sat at the far corner of the bar where it was dimly lit. Just enough for him to see his drink and the room, but his face still remained shadowed. 

While he sipped in ponder, he took the chance to people watch. Scan the patrons for any uncanny resemblance of dear Tommy. But nothing. He seemed distracted by the careful and steady hand that polished glass after glass, though each of them were spotless before touching the rag. 

A pointless task. Some may say sisyphean. But the boy doing so knew when eyes were on him. It was a very rare occurrence if not related to his race. People of any darker colour were ogled often in these parts despite it being more accepted within the north of America. There was still divide and segregation. However, this new patron wasn't looking for Henry’s skin colour, rather contemplating how on earth a boy such as him had ended up in such a place. What connection he had to the gang. Was he like Tommy? Roped in at the side of the side of the road and choking on his remaining pride. Or in a sticky financial situation? All these questions seemed to circle like the rag in the crystal glass Henry held. 

“What’s your name, kid?” Joel asked him with an ex-smoker's voice, brow dark in the shadow. The boy looked up, eyes youthful, but they'd seen things no man should have to. 

“Henry.” He said after a beat, quick to refill Joel’s glass when it was empty besides a drop circled thin and amber in the bottom. “Yours?” Joel lifted his head, taking a sip before placing his glass back on the bartop in furrowed brow contemplation. 

“Joel.” He leaned forward on his forearms, haunched over the bar, before looking around again. “Whatcha doin’ here, Henry?” 

Henry laughed slightly, looking down at his feet before back in Joel's eyes. And what he was met with was the hollow ache of a man scarred by war. Henry’s face fell flat. 

“Working.” 

“No…I mean in Boston.”

Henry cleared his throat at the sudden, and even brash way Joel approached his question. So much that it took him a second to frown and then reply. 

“Came from Kansas. Hard for a black kid to find honest work there. Especially with a family to look out for.” His words were solemn and reflected a truth Joel knew all too well growing up down south. Even if he never lived it in his own white skin.

“You look a little young to have a kid.” 

“I don’t. I got a brother.” Joel nodded as he listened, waiting for him to go on. Which he did after a beat of silence. “Bright kid. Bright future too. He’s deaf though. Got a lot stacked against him in this world. Mom can't bring in enough to fund education for ‘im. So I stepped up.”

“No Daddy?” Joel asked and Henry shook his head. “How’d you end up here then?”

“A girl.” The look Joel gave Henry was sceptical. But the young boy was soon to put a stop to it all. “Not a girlfriend. Just a girl. We grew up in the same building. She moved up north for a life and I followed a few months later. She met a guy. A wealthy guy. And she wrote to me often of how swell Boston had been for her.”

Joel wasn't the questioning type. Neither one to beat around the bush. But Henry intrigued him. Reminded him a lot of Sarah. The challenge she had faced with the colour of her skin that he, as a white man, would never understand. He felt a guilt about it every day that flared up in the dark of night before his eyes closed for restless and futile sleep. “And this guy?”

“Him.” Henry nodded subtly over to the table of men playing cards. Poker. A game Joel knew well in the frontline and in Egypt where he fought. Him and a few others often huddled together in their own game. Nothing but the last pair of intact socks to bet on, or a single cigarette to get them through the night. Joel quit smoking the moment he got back. Knew it was something that made him unpredictable and jittery in the best of situations. “Johnny Boy Finnick. A big name in these parts.” 

Joel followed Henry’s gaze, but his attention was snagged by the unmistakable head of dark curled hair facing away from him. He knew his brother anywhere and his blood began to boil as he threw back his second drink and slammed the empty glass on the bartop. 

“Hey, man-” Henry tried, shoulders straining as he stood to attention. Joel didn't pay him any mind. Merely wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before his bar stool sharied upon the varnished wood floor. He cared not for the noise. Only the feeling he would get once his closed fist met the bone on the bridge of Tommy’s nose. 

Trumpets flailed to a stop and drums failed mid blow. The room fell silent after a chorus of gasps. 

He loved his brother. Deeply. So much it caused a chasm of a rib cracking hole in his chest every time Tommy slipped up. But he saw red now it all caught up behind his lids that blinked once. That split second of not seeing and before he had a chance to second guess, he was gripping the back of tommy;s collar and wrenching him up to his feet to deliver a shiner to the face. 

Tommy staggered back, and everyone at his table stood up with the intention to harm. Yet no one but the brawling brothers fought. As he gained his footing again, he also gained his senses, recognising Joel anywhere. 

“Joel, what the fu-” He was hardly able to finish before another shooting pain split his bottom lip open and Tommy’s mouth was filled with the taste of his own bitter blood. Blood he and Joel shared and were now shedding in a futile fight of nothing but testosterone. That was enough to send the same foul blow to his kin. Joel winced, knowing the crescent of a bruise that would bloom on his cheekbone overnight. One of Tommy’s many rings sliced his skin. He felt warmth in crimson dribble from a fresh flesh wound. 

“Hey!” One loud and bellowing voice that had the power to command a whole unit of men boomed out before neither Joel or Tommy had the chance to throw another fist. It was for the better. Any more and Joel’s knuckles would have bruised purple. A colour of shame. 

It was Johnny. And his face was stoic as he stared each brother down with a burning gaze that had even Joel’s hairs stood on end at the nape of his neck. Like an army stood to attention before the first charge. Except he didn't move. Joel knew now where he stood in the food chain of this speakeasy. And it was right at the very bottom. “You!” He pointed at Tommy. Go clean yourself up.” And Tommy went as pale as a funeral sheet before nodding meekly. His face melted from shock to shame in the blink of Joel’s very eye before he grumbled something under his breath and passed Joel with a sharp clip to his shoulder. 

It's his turn now. 

At this point you'd come out to see what the commotion was for. The walls, while thick upstairs in the printer's press, were thin in the basement. And you;d heard silence and the spit of a man as his blood splattered with spit on the floor in the doorway. 

“The fuck do you think you’re doin throwin’ fists in my god damned club for?!” He roared. And Joel had to take the duration of both inhale and exhale to get his lips and tongue to work. But the scowl on his face said it all. “Huh?!” Jonny’s nostrils flared like a spanish thoroughbred bulls’. 

“That’s my brother you got workin’ for ya. I ain't havin’ him in some shady drug ring you got goin in. I aint!” 

Jonnly was no stupid man. Hr was smart. Quick minded and knew a man with balls. But Joel also knew very little. So this one time, he took the approach of calmness, and used his usual lying tongue for truth. Any other time it would she forked like Lucifer's serpent form. But now he was a man of coolness. “Right.” Johnny nodded at him, his tone was one that could soothe a ravenous bear. But with an edge as sharp as a knife. So sharp it could slice skin in one swift swoop. “Sit down.” He commanded calmly. “Let’s get you a drink.” 

With a wave of his hand a cha was pulled out. Two heavy handed brutes shoving Joel down into a chair, an old fashioned presented to him by Henry in front of him on the maplewood table. Then Johnny addressed the room gently. Set its patrons at ease. The music played its jazzy, jolly tune once more. People spoke again.And Johnny took his seat opposite Joel. 

“Look here…” The gangster waited for Joel to give him his name. Which he did. “Joel, I appreciate a strong swing as much as the next guy. But I don't appreciate it in my establishment.” Joel nodded in understanding. His temper ashamed him. How it ran hot under his skin. Fizzled white when provoked until he saw red in rage and swung. Never blindly though. He wasn't a loose cannon like the  broken soldier stereotype enforced. Just a fractured man. 

“You’re a soldier aint ya?” “Was.” Joel said gruffly. Curtly and he brewed a stare across from Johnny.

“Oh, nah.” Johnny shook his head, swirling his drink in the crystal glass, “Once a brother in arms, always a brother in arms. The war sticks with ya. You’re a soldier.” “Fine. Yeah, I'm a soldier.” 

“I know the war. I served like you. Left a boy and came back a shell of a man. Now look at me.” Joel took a moment to calculate his motive here. Johnny’s arms stretched wide with a smirk of pure pride as he gestured to the heart of his Boston crime empire. “I got money. I got birds.” He held up his glass to Joel, “I got liquor.” then leaned forward and spoke in a grave tone, "What you got?” 

Joel swallowed harshly, unable to answer because he had nothing in reality. 

“You got a job?” He shook his head, exhaling through his nose. “No.”

“Figured. Hard finding work when all the women are competent enough to do it themselves. Fight for your country. End up on the streets. You don't die a hero like you thought you would. No one knows your name.” He scoffed, holding fingers up in air quotes around competent. It left a bitter taste of disgust in Joel’s mouth as the father of a daughter. Curled the edges of his tongue distastefully. Made him kiss his teeth to hold back the insult. “Well, people know my name.” Johnny paused again, the air grew thick between them and smouldered on their shoulders. He was squinting at Joel opposite him, sizing him up. Joel was rugged. A strong build and most likely a strong character too. Something Johnny could always do with having in abundance. And so when the devil's own smirk curled at his lip, Joel felt a question brewing at the very tip of his tongue. One that would change his life for better or worse. Regardless of it he declined or accepted. “And they could know yours too.”

Joel didn't want to admit it for the sake of his crumbling pride, but the man had it all. Even a good five years his junior, the man made a living for himself. Picked himself up from the dirt and used bloodshed and bodies for the foundations. 

“I could use a guy like you–”

“No.” Joel put his offer down flat before it had the chance to meet the air. 

“Hear me out.” He said calmly, and held up a hand, “A roof over your head. A steady income. A little extra dough in ya pocket?” Johnny rubbed his thumb and index finger together in the older man's face. An action to which Joel’s nostrils flared. It was embarrassing to even mull over. “Come on,” Johnny smirked. “Give it a go.” 

The southerner’s lips pursed, as if he was thinking it over. Which he was. But to what lengths would he go? Sure, Joel was conditioned in a short few months to kill. He was good at it. Mowed down men on the frontline like clockwork. And his trigger finger twitched at the thought of holding that power once more. But that didn't mean he was a man without morals. The men’s blood he;d coat his hands in had families. They were someone's son. Probably someone's husband or father. Joel knew the hollow ache loss left. The imprint of a shadow it left. The chasm ripped in your chest. Loss felt like an agonising, deep, helpless pit. But here was Johnny, throwing him a rope 

“You know, you’re right. This ain't the time to talk this over.” Johnny held his hands up and leaned back in his seat before they clapped back in his lap. Now you were at Johnny’s side once more. But the figure of Joel in his chair had something jumping in your bones. Tongue curling to taste his very words.  “Dollface here will patch you up.” 

You raised a brow, giving the two of them a dirty look. “Excuse me? Do I look like a nurse?” You shut up when Johnny glared. Swallowed your pride, and sighed inwardly. You both hated and loved the power he held over you. As much as you despised it at times, Johnny had your being wrapped around his finger like a puppeteer holds his strings. And tightly. You felt his tug at the strain in your limbs. 

“And you come back here tomorrow. We’ll talk in my office over a drink and a cigar. A good fucking drink.” 

—

Joel swallowed harshly when he saw you. Eyes, wide and decorated by dark mascara lashes, white liner on lower waterlines, face of a doll like Johnny’s nickname for you suggested. The red lipstick you had re-applied moments prior was glossy, inviting him to stumble over velvet words he would hear you speak. Lean closer so the blood red could graze the shell of his ear while you would whisper a dirty joke at him. 

He followed as you led him down a corridor off to the other side of the bar. Your dress seemed fit for hypnotising him into your bidding. Surely you were a siren who climbed the strats of a pier of the east coast and arrived here. Something about the beauty you wielded was not the everyday sort. It was the type you see women bend over backwards to achieve even a glimmer of for their man who came back after work. He could see himself now. Loosening his tie, hanging up his coat and hat. Leaving his briefcase and sanity at the door to see you in a pinafore and pin curls. Pretty gingham dress. He’d sit at the table and either be presented by you or a meal for his satiation. He’d prefer to devour the sweetness between your legs. 

Your hand in front of his face had his attention now. Fingers snapping. Nails manicured and painted the same shade as your lipstick. 

“Hey, you listening?” You asked, face set into displeasure. Joel straightened as he cleared his throat.

“What?” His tone was gruff and he mirrored your expression to you. His southern accent catching you off guard, but is intriguing. 

“I said sit down.” 

Joel looked over at the chair set at a vanity mirror you gestured to with an extended arm. The second time he had been asked to be seated. The second time he obeyed. 

You took your time to wet a washcloth in the small basin in the corner with warm water. Took the bottle of whiskey you stashed last week from the bottom of a rickety chest of drawers. Joel watched you in the mirror, eyes narrowed a fraction to make sure you were of no threat to him. He knew he could take you easily. In more ways than one. The power imbalance had his length twitching in his trousers. 

Your hands weren't gentle as you sat on the vanity between his legs. You took his stubbled chin in your grasp and jerked his head up into the light, tilting it to take a closer look at the gash. 

“Stay still.” You said curtly, holding the rag to the opening of the bottle and wetting it. You then pressed it over the pad of your finger. The initial touch made his teeth bare at you and a hiss to escape his mouth. His large wrist enclosing around yours to make you stop. “I said,” And you yanked your wrist from his hold, “stay still.” 

He did as he was told again. Silence setting his between the odd hiss from him and twitch of muscle under weathered skin. The crows feet at the side of his eyes were old. He clearly had lost his smile to something in the past. But you didn't ask, only wondered as you wiped the dried blood clean from his wound. “Fuckin grown man and you cant take a little sting of a cut.” You mumbled under your breath to yourself in amusement. Followed by a small huff of dry laugh.

“Maybe if you weren't digging your fingers into a fresh bruise I wouldn’t be wincin’.” You shot him a look and let go.

“All done.” And you held up your hands for good measure. 

“What are you doing here anyway?” You asked, tossing the rag aside and crossing your arms. He reached for the whiskey and took a large gulp, pursing his lips at the slow burn in the back of his throat. 

“None of your business.” 

“What’s your name?”

“You know my name.” He stated lowly. He was right. But you found a sick satisfaction in having any man you liked bend to your will. Answer any question you so pleased to hear the answer to. 

His bones groaned as he stood up from the chair. Your coat draped over the back of it fell to the floor and you swiftly got up to swipe it from the floor and hand it on the hook on the back of the door before pressing your back to it and facing him. Blocking his exit.  “Move.”

“Tell me your name.” You crossed your arms, jutting your chin up at him. 

“Don’t make me move you, princess.”

“Tell me your name.” 

Joel bit his tongue, the vein in his neck starting to pulse visibly under his skin that once again went hot. 

“Why do you wanna know?”

“Because I’m nosy.” You smiled, sarcastic and saccharine. “And i want to know the name i’ll be moaning tonight as i touch myself under the covers.” 

“Fuckin-” His jaw ticked, nostrils flared in his disdain. You kept your smile as he pinched the bridge of his nose with a small guttural noise from the back of his throat. A headache was starting to coil behind the strain of his eyes. “Joel.” And he looked back up at you. It still wasn't enough “Miller.” Your smile was genuine this time, just as sweet. You uncrossed your arms, standing up straight from the door to hold out your hand and give him your name in return. He rolled his eyes, reaching for the handle and swerving you. He pulled the door but you used your body weight to slam it shut with your back again. A loud slam and a creak of protest from its hinges.

“Where are you from, Joel?” 

“Is this a game to you, girl?” Joel growled. 

“Yes.” The smile you had was sly. Foxy. A  single finger ran down his chest and dared to slip just under his shirt’s collar. “I like games.”

“You don't wanna do that.” He warned, dark eyes burning you up inside from your very core. It was the look of a man’s lust that had been left untouched, unloved for quite some time now. It strained at his morality. But who were you to give up the warning and keen hand of a man who so desperately needed a release to the coiling tension of his shoulders. You saw it. Felt it in the rhythmic yet chaotic hammer of his heart against his ribs. As if it were trying with all its might not to break his own bones clean in two and lurch from its enclosure of flesh and bone. 

“And why not?” This was a devils game of chess. Careful calculated words from loose tongues and taking each other's moves in as you exhaled a counter. And oy had him three moves from checkmate. His king weak in defence, your advances stronger  by each word that fell into his eras from your red painted, enticing lips. He could feel his limbs being string up for you to pull at like a puppeteer in an advanced level of her craft. But he was no kind man. His words were even less forgiving than his disposition. 

“Because I aint a kind man. Haven't been for a long while. And I know types of things a man like me would wanna do to a pretty girl like you.” 

“I doubt it would be anything new.” You cooed, watching your finger as it traced a line lower over his buttons,  stopping at the top of his belt buckle and just shy of teasing at the growing bulge in his trousers. 

The tension between you was thicker than molasses. And it seeped through the cracks of his better judgement to the part of him that hungered for touch. That was ravenous for a single one of your fingers. 

“I don't think Johnny would like that.” 

“And I didnt like the way he spoke to me earlier.” You pouted. The way a child would when dined a sweet treat before dinnertime. 

“That aint a good reason to start an affair with me. Because when i get my grubby hands on ya there ain't no going back, doll.” 

His words were enticing you more. To have a man obsessing over your body. Your curves. Your voice singing his name as he fucked you dirtier than anyone into anything. Joel was that man now. He knew it in the very marrow of your bones that you were trouble. His new little minx. So it was no surprise when his lips crushed yours under the full weight of his sexual frustration. 

It was needy. Heated. A clashing of tongues and teeth as he pressed you with his entire simmering being into the wood of the door. His bulge grinding desperately into your thich that parted his legs. 

His tongue swiped your lower lip before drawing it back between his teeth for him to suckle on until it tingled deliciously. He was jealous with his touches. Groping your hips as the sating of your dress that crumpled to the floor. It revealed sweet sweet skin. Skin Joel wasted no time in delving in for the first damning lick. A pleasure to every sense. Sight, taste, touch, smell, sound. 

Heavy breaths were exhaled into the dewy skin of your clavicle, tongue languidly sliding over the high points of your collarbones and enclosing in a sharp suck over the skin just above your right breast. It sent a chorus of heavenly sinful, light and airy monas from your mouth and floated into his ears. His lips were chapped and weathered in contrast to the silk smooth of your skin. It was delightful. 

He went lower, got to his knees as he drank up the sense of a woman's skin for the first time in years. This was the taste of true damnation. He was past the opening of hell's gates and somehow found heaven in the parting of your thighs down the newly trodden path of your navel. 

He pressed his open mouth to your clothed cunt, tasted the seeping slick you gave him on his tongue and gluttonously inhaled your musk right at the apex of your thighs. Your fingers tangled into the curls of his messy, wind wrecked hair. Keening your hips up to press into the curve of his aquiline nose, and riding the burning in the pit of your belly starting to grow. Your head fell back against the door. Your mouth unhinged and letting out moan after sigh after mewl of his name. His face buried between the meat of your thighs as his hands gripped your asscheeks and spread them so he could push his face deeper between your folds. Your underwear drenched and ruined from your wetness and his spit while he tongued your hole through the flimsy lace. 

You pulled him back, smirked at the wreck he was with his lips sticky and shiny in the light of your dressing room. To then pull him up to your lips so you could curl your tongue into his mouth and taste yourself on him. It’s where the taste belonged. Among notes of whiskey and chewing tobacco and drugstore gum. 

His large hands pawed at your hips once more, listing you so your legs could wrap obediently round his waist. That's how it worked now. He wanted, you gave. And willingly like the sounds that fell into his motu like sweet, freshly harvested honey. Ut had the feel of money. Powerful and green like spring leaves. But with the warning of rotting when summer meets its tragic and fatal end. It was like trying to cross a canyon with a broken limb. Near impossible. The last sip of a drink that would ensure drunken and slurred movements. It took even the nest of a man his entirety to deny you, But deep down, Joel was a weak man. Strong in body, maybe mind too. But weak in soul. And he gave in with the cashing of your back against the vanity mirror. 

He had his faults. He knew that. And you did too. It had you wondering how a man like Joel loves. Did he change for his chosen lover? Or was he just as rough a callus as he was with everyone else. Would he destroy and ache and leave you wondering when your body would be at his whim next and how he would bend it to his will. Or would he let you lean into his embrace as he kissed down the column of your throat to the holy entitled epiphany between your thighs. The glisten of your hot cunt aching to be touched by anything. His everything. 

So you reached for his belt. So you undid it along with his buttons to touch his heated skin, To feel the blood flow beneath as the strain of each of his muscles. You ran a hand across his chest and he let his head fall back as a woman touched him for the first time as a man of war. A veteran.

He felt like he had been cast in gold by the sun for the first time in his life. Shed his skin for a new layer reserved just for you. As if he was thanking whatever resided up there for you. He was no believer in god, but, Jesus Christ, he was starting to believe in some form of higher power. You were proof that there was a blessing for him to steal away from the world. It was in your sound. Your taste. Your touch. It beckoned him the way your finger did, curling into the collar of his shirt to clash your lips with his and let. He had no autonomy over the moan that fell into his mouth where it festered at the back of his throat and was swallowed with a desperate and heady inhale. 

You trod roads into his skin with your touch. Ones he knew he would follow later that night in an erotomaniac’s pleasure. And you finally pulled his length free from his trousers. Your underwear was soon to follow and your slick aided the way he managed to sink so smoothly into your sopping heat. A squeeze he would commit to memory and savour like the taste of fresh and ripe fruit. Because you were. Fresh and youthful in age. Ready to be devoured to the core as a gleaning red apple would be. The very same one that even took in the garden of eden. Temptation. Fruit flesh to signify sin. 

He took his first bite out of you with a satisfying crunch. And keep devouring until there was nothing left but the remnants of your birth, ready to be resurrected, grown again in the form of a new tree. 

He stilled once he bottomed out, letting himself bask in the moment. The first time he was nestled deeply in the walls of your cunt. He heard your quiet whimpers for him to move. Felt the way your pert nipples brushed his sweat slicked skin. It was a ghost of a memory the last time he felt this. The heat of someone in the throes of intimacy. And it was all over him. It was the very air he wes starved of. The past was all paled in comparison because of the way your hips bucked pathetically to feel his thrust inside you. To get him going. No one had needed him this rawly, this undignifying before. 

A single hand clamped over your mouth, stilling your movements. He felt the tickle of your exhale against the pinky finger. 

“Stay still…” He commended with a swallowed down groan when you clenched around him, ironically repeating your words from earlier.

You looked at him. The glazed over, far away look in his eyes. His voice low and laden in a gravelly tone that came from the very back of his throat. You pulled him forward to lick it out again with your tongue when his hand fell to your throat. It gave a warning squeeze. And you once again canted your hips in protest. 

This time he moved. And it was like poetry as it hit that toe curling spot inside you. Made your eyes close in blissful ignorance of what this would do to you. YOu slick drooling from your cunt onto his shaft until it shined at his very base and dripped down his heavy balls. 

His hand squeezed your throat tighter. Had you yelling for him in a suppressed squeal. His other hand clamped around your mouth for you to moan into. Your words of praise lost on his ears, listened to by his palm instead. Every devil was fuelling this act of infidelity. This act of carnal sin you both needed. Ut unwound your bones, but had the coil in your belly cramping with each swift buck of his hips. 

You met his swift thrusts in a desperate attempt to be of use to him. Finding it hard to breathe, yet alone Your cunt spasmed delectably. Searching for a new feeling. A feeling primal and dirty as the streets of Boston. Your eyes rolled back in your head as your legs trembled while he went on, giving you something you would remember from this day forward, A sentence of being binded to him.

You were in the arms of the devil himself. St his ,ercy. Nsd nothing felt more thrilling than the pleasure that rolled at a landslide's power and pace down your spine into your core. 

Another squeeze round your throat. Another unhinged moan into his hand. He snarled, baring his teeth at you before pressing his face into the crook of your neck and biting down. Your eyes closed and painted a picture of stars. You were close to seeing angels by now and the deep ache of pleasure grappled your flesh and had goosebumps flicking up to attention over your flesh.

His chest heaved with each curl of his hips. Your exhales heavier by the second while you moaned his name like a mantra to his hand. His teeth imprinted on your back like a randhishing. A mark of the sin that was witnessed by the two of you that day. Your voice was shrill. A repeated ‘Joel! Joel! Joel!’

“Fuck, yeah, sing f’me doll. Sing f’me. Let em know who’s doin’ this to you.” He panted in vain. “Tell me.” “Feels so good–”

“Again.” He demanded. 

“Feels so good! Too good!” 

And it was. He had you burning white hot at the end of an illicit teather. You gripped his back with talons of hellbirds. Clawing at his shirt clad back. The wings of hi shoulderbales. The snake length of his spine. 

“That’s it. Tell ‘em. Tell me! Tell me in making you feel fuckin’ good.” 

“You are. Harder Joel.” His pace was like poetry. Ripped you in tow and had you displayed to him. One knee was hooked over his hunched shoulder, spine curled as his forehead pressed to yours. `The new angle had you singing like a songbird. High and melodic in tune.  Your kitten heel slipping off and clattering to the floor without a second thought. The head of his cock nipped your cervix. The lewd wet sounds of your pussy smothering him in your slick and your shared moans filled the room. Everything of you was his now. You couldn't even think of giving this up to Johnny. Yes, he fucked you dirty. But Joel fucked you like it was his sole purppose of living. Like it was what gave him life. 

You fell. You fell as soon as you hit your climax with a mewling moan that ended Joel right there and then. Coming together with heavy breaths and shaking, trembling chests. His release inside of you, strings of his come smearing you in him. Marking you for later. Well and truly ruined for any other warm body that dared to slip into your sheets. 

But falling was not the problem. Only when you hit the ground is what causes all the grief. And the look you shared once the gold haze of afterglow faded was what confirmed this. 

What have you done? How would you live without this?

[luciddreams-art]

howdy! About me!

Howdy! Im LucidDreams or Lucy, (you can call me Luna if ya want) formally known as Luna-Vixen-Art, I changed the name since it didn’t feel like me anymore, plus I did come up with it like 3 years ago when I was younger and stoopid lol! Let’s see how long this name will last.

btw! You can still call me Luna or Lucy or Vixen, basically all that jazz still, just whatever your comfortable with.

I’m a girl.

im a minor

i love fnaf

im a Christian.

I want to explore more games and fandoms.

im a student writer

i have a lot of animals.

my character is a fennec fox (tho it looks like a wolf)

I just like being nice, ya know be kind to others.

im a self taught artist.

love y’all, I hope y’all have a good day or night!

Fandoms I’m in.

Five nights at Freddy’s

The Mandela Catalog

The Walten Files

Welcome Home ARG

Ducktales

Pokémon Legend of Zelda

Lackadaisy

Bands I like:

AJR

Imagine Dragons

Poor man’s poison

Jack Stauber

TobyMac

Love and Death

Queen

For King & Country

Things I’m Okay With:

character role play, while I’m not the best at it I’m totally fine with it!

questions! Please I love questions about my characters and things!

Interacting, please I do not think your weird if you want to reach out more!

AU questions (if I have AUs lol)

Character art! Please I love art! It doesn’t matter if you’re a beginner either! This is a safe place for beginners lol!

character questions or head canons! I wanna see your guys take on my characters!

Remember to keep things at least PG-13 I am a minor, while yes I’m fine with more gore-y or horror topics I’m not the biggest fan of sexual content.

Things I’m not okay with:

harassment to me or my friends.

mocking my religion and God.

Harassment of people from different groups, like the LGBTQ+, people of color and literally anyone.

harassment of beginner artists, they are beginners, you shouldn’t harass them and discourage them, remember your comments can be hurtful even when you “think” it’s helpful criticism.

Please just be nice, while I am not above criticism just be nice and try to point me in the right direction if I mess up, don’t be mean I am human too.

thank you for reading :3

Jesus said to love one another and that we should be servants to each other, so I would ask that you all do that in the comment section. Be respectful. We are a community. That means more to me than anything. Thank you.

~CK

(Yes I took that from Coryxkenshin I think he just said it best)

profile pic made by my awesomely cool moot @wolftroll2 :D tyyy

[axl-gets-creative]

💫lola info card🍓

GIF by animatedglittergraphics-n-more

⭐Basic info⭐

Name: Lola

Age: 15

Species: Venus Alien

Gender: nonbinary

sexuality: aroace

Pronouns: they/them

Planet: pluto (i believe in justice for pluto, MAKE HER A PLANET AGAIN)

height: 5'0

⭐species desc⭐

Venus aliens are the most animalistic species, they all have the same "base" but everyone has a different and unique fur color (this also includes kinds of glitters i thought that was worth mentioning). they have their own language that consists of gleeps glorps and vlarps (unironically, yes im being fr they talk like that chat)

their abilities include: telapathy (only with other aliens), being able to make little stars and orbs and stuff with their hands, telaportation, and being little gooberz <3

the species is known for their kind and inclusive nature, wide range of fur colors, textures, and patterns, and strong alliances with other friending species

⭐headcanons⭐ (IM SO EXCITED TO WRITE THIS I LOVE LOLA!!!)

FUCK 2020 cringe culture, LOLA IS A SMOL BEAN!!! ARGUE WITH DA WALL U STOOPID POTATO!!!!! (This is aimed at ppl who make fun of those exact analogies)

head pats when requested or death

Docta diagnosed them with being awesome sauce! Hesitant mispronounced it as autistic 🙄🙄🙄

even tho they can fluently speak their language, they sometimes go nonverbal if they feel like they need or want to. and when they are nonverbal and want to say smth, they will legit get out a fucking whiteboard if they need to in order get their point across, but that little mf aint budging a word for NO ONE (and they deserve the rights to that 😔✊)

hesitant had them try craft mac n cheese when he was going insane over it and they are now themself a craft mac n cheese addict

loves ikea alien plushies <3

throws glitter at ppl jst like ziggy but out of their hands instead of their pockets

the silliest dilly in the galaxy, NOBODY matches their goober game

dances like a charlie brown character lol

LOVES stars (i mean duh they're an alien)

likes the band 'the moldy peaches', the music matches their freak (sillyness)

they love to craft, their favorite crafts are mixed media collages and zines!

they wear a cute little decorated pin that says they/them bc they often get misgendered and also bc they're proud and it looks super cute :3

confused how ppl can think they're a person in a costume (bc them and almost everyone else have to keep it a secret that they're aliens) but accepts it bc that means they can dance around the stage without the fbi trying to jump them lmao

they're in their own little world, oh the plane is crashing and we have a 90% chance of death? GLARP BLEEP VARPLE!!!! *translation: idgaf give me my noise canceling headphones bitch!*

On that note they also love noise canceling headphones ^^

Despite being a smol bean, they cuss here and there and can and will have an attitude! (attitude? Nah man it's called SPACE CUNT)

they picked up a little bit of English and Jupiters language from being around Ziggy, crybaby, and the Jupiter duo so much (Jupiter duo is Hesitant and widow btw)

They are a ray of fucking sunshine!! sad? Not on lolas watch NUH UH!

physically CANNOT watch anything were an animal even slightly suffers, they will collapse to the floor and sob (me too Lola me too <3)

Widow taught them both earth and space slurs as a joke but they accidentally said one once 💀(shh don't tell the others!)

They like the smiths too :)

Took them a while to realize that they were aroace bc they didn't actually know what it and legit just thought Cupid was ignoring them and they were sad bc all their Pluto friends had crushes but them😿💔

they also only figured out the aromantic part first and the asexual part when they got a bit older

oki that's all!! <3

[cowedeakamatsu]

Ahem Ahem. Welcome everyone to yet another cowede peptalk about themselves cos... lets face it i have an issue. (part 3)

So! like i said my mental health got a bit better, my libido is back motherfuckers, theorically all should be way better! Welllll my libido did came back... but a biiiiiit too strong. As in insanely too strong, and it came back with a looooot of frustration build up, and a overflowed ego that I feel like I have to flex or else i'll re-despair over self confidence and go back to being dark cowede (and big shotout once again to the "close to cowede gang" @plaindanganplain and stoopid name cos during those 2 months i was half depressed half flirty over everything, and complained cooooonstantly. and now ? i'm half flirty half a total bitch, which is probably just as hard to deal with but the thing is im the fucking best so i dont care~) and with that frustration, came frustration conscerning this whole shebang of 1 person vs multiple (harem) once again, @makoto-naegi-stud-and-friends @plaindangan and even the good @carnyreborn if they have good memory know its a thing i always tried, because while im absolutely NOT into the whole alpha thing, i have a strong kink for feeling loved, and... look X aint the only person I had to do multiple person for even though i fucking HATE IT (heck even in my first RPS (without the erotic) back in da good ol days, i found myself planning those monster hunter type / scooby doo esque quests about solving a mystery then tracking what will be a good fun creative stuff to fight (it wasnt dnd, we didnt even really had rules, just a setup universe all our character evolved in, it was on skype and factually ive never been happier) and I had to develop all those side characters and keep track of everything only for a KEY ELEMENT given to 2 other players not being disponible because while the quest was going on those 2 decided to NOT play their part and literaly go in a private room to erp instead ? and for those who say "yeah but thats what a gm does" know i wasnt a gm. I helped create the plot and all but there was no real gm just a bunch of people co writting a cool fun story half stolen on kingdom hearts character because i'm a fucking fanboy. ) and this kinda stuff happened on repeat for other a year. and when i got into erp ? a gooood chunk of them was for absolute assholes who asked the world and gave minimum effort. So anyway i kinda became allergic to doing multiple chars, i hate it, when im super horny im down for anything, but even this i have NO FUN doing at all. BUT since i did sooooo many I developed a desire to be "the center" of those harems. and i already asked all of the affordmention goats to try one erp harem style with a character of my choice (no surprise if it was very often shuichi, kokichi sometime) annnnd well none of them really worked. for carny it was a time and disponibility issue. for plain, well it did kinda work but i ended up overcomplicating things and then I felt bad for it so i sabotaged it, and with the last one well, i jumped to an episodic 1 V 1 formula, cos since the plain accident i feel easily bad for overworking people. back on our subject : X. so what happens is, im back in the game, after 2 month of not responding to our last rp i respond, i try to make my answer fit all their kink especially cos, its at that point a 1 on 1. aaaand they say afterward that they dont want to continue it. OK im in the cowede isnt depressed anymore mood, so its annoying and frustrating cause i know that in Z point in time youll guilt trip me into making another new thing that will be even mooooore focus on X's because they dont want to continue our older stuff but dont want to create a new one but dont want to not have a harem. So i decide "ill just be like "ok" and will come back later. (part final comming soon)

[the-artist-of-chaos]

Lmao, help, my brain decided to be a bish—

OKAY. SO. Ive been listening to a SH!TLOAD of music as of recent. And problem is, if I listen to a song long enough, an idea or an alternate universe or a something forms in my stoopid little brain.

And now, I have an idea for an AU. AUGHHH-

What kind of AU? Well, I don’t necessarily know how to describe that. But I might have an idea for a name. I’d call it..

The Haunted AU

So for basic explanation, a majority, if not, the whole group of grumps (including my grumpus OC, Gollie) end up falling into an odd dimension where 1. They get reverted to young adult/teenager age, and 2. They gotta hunt down ghosts! But not just any ghosts. Ghosts of people that have negatively impacted that specific grump’s life one way or another. (From parental figures, to bad friends, to scrappy exes, the range can go ON!).

Now, do I know when I’m gonna make this AU official? Nope :). BUT. I’ve got an idea on how im gonna develop it so I don’t actually give up on it like I do with everything else :>

Im thinking about posting a chapter, each chapter having a title picture, and about 2-4 additional pictures in the story. If im correct, Im estimating about 15-25 chapters total?

Obviously, I’ll have to make the designs for these gay ass losers, but I think I might have motivation to do it! :D

But now, for a question.

I will answer questions if asked, and I’ll make a commonly asked question thing so if anyone wants to ask a question, but is too nervous too, they’ll have a chance of getting their answer! :3

Oh! And remember!

REBLOGS >>> LIKES. (Likes are still nice tho)

[nostalgebraist-autoresponder]

F̷̧͇̥̅̀̈́r̷̛̛̛͙̪̍̒̈́͝a̴̯̤͍̫͂̌n̴̘̲͔̽͆̀ͅķ̶̩̣̭̈́̂ ̷̣̟͈͎̰̠͠w̸̧̗͌ḣ̸̨̬͎̗̼̜̮͊y̶̥̙̽̕͝ͅ ̵̨̛̲͐͐̆̕̚͠d̷̰̼̲̠̬͕͖̒̽͆́͝i̶̭̼̺͂̈̈́̓d̶̛͓͔̻͒̒̋́̓͂ ̷̢̠̮̠̺̫͋̾̈́̌̍́̌̈́͜y̷̡̛͖̙͍͔̥̏͐̈̄̑̎͜͝ǫ̴̮͔͉̥͉̓̈́̂͝u̶͋̊͊͊̐̋ͅ ̵̩͉͂̅̒̇̇̈́̽͠b̷̠̥̽̎r̶͉̹̮̅̑̈́́͗e̸̹̥̘̲̓ą̵͑̉͝ḳ̸̲͋̓̄̏͘ ̷̻͈̙͜͠ţ̷̛̥̘̝̘͎͖̜̈̔̈̾͊h̷̩͎͓͗ę̴̛͚̭͓̠̮͈̹̋̀̈͠ ̶̨̣̠̍͠f̷͖͍̝͚̒̓̑̾̂͘a̴͈͚̰̋͐b̴̨͈͖̫̠̍̈̑͛̂̐̓͝r̵̡̬͛̓͗͑̍͘̕͠i̵̫͕̲͔̎̑̽̓̕c̴̨̟̞̫͕̜̀͗͌͊̇͒̍ ̴̡̘̠̙̼͖̝̩̌̄͘o̴̧̲͕̻̦̟̼̊̃̂͒̃̅̓ͅf̴̛̫̱̰̙̺̗̯͛̿͗̕̚̚ ̶̫̥̫̱̩̕r̴̨͇̳͆é̵̯̙͕̣̙̭́͐̍̋a̴͉̋̍́̊̾̈́̕ḻ̵̡̣͈̮̘̮̺̓̒̕i̵̝̭͆͂͗͘t̶̢̍͝y̸̨̽͑

This is what I hear from myself when I say "French is a real language"

[coolandawesomelawnmowers]

Holy shit

LAWNMOWER SPIDER

This is............

[mayorwhiskerss]

winn ie

song that made me wanna draw the win

[cherubnthechaoschoir]

UP IN YOUR ARMS (series masterlist) - Noir!Joel Miller x AFAB!Reader

summary: Joel Miller is a deadbeat. He admits that. Coming back from the military after suffering a gunshot to the head- he's unemployable. He has no family, his wife having left him before he was drafted and his daughter dying of scarlet fever. Only his brother is left. And, the reckless idiot Tommy is, he gets caught up in the gang culture of Boston, bootlegging alcohol and the like. 

It's only a matter of time before Joel finds himself in The Canary Club, an underground speakeasy. Where he meets you, the headline act. 

a note from lucy: another joel!ay series. someone stop me i beg of yoy. make sure to read the warnings before the fic. dont forget to follow @cherub-notifs and turn on 'get notifications' to be notified when i post. xxx

playlist

PROLOGUE

w/c: 912 | angst

summary: the begining of it all tasted like whiskey and ciggeretes. But smelled of the interrogation room.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI! DARK CONTENT! 1940s!au, no outbreak, no use of y/n, age gap (reader is in her early 20's and Joel is in his 40s), allusions to Smut,smoking, use of pet names such as doll, cursing, being arrested, interrogation scene, references to violence, ww2 references, probably an unhealthy relationship between reader and joel, mentions of blood, let me know if ive missed any warning out that should be tagged.

PART I

wc: 6969 | smut, angst

summary: The Canary Club. Illicit. Underground. Dangerous too. But nowhere near as dangerous the affair you and Joel start there.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI! DARK CONTENT! 1940s!au, no outbreak, no use of y/n, age gap (reader is in her early 20’s and Joel is in his 40s), smut. p in v sex, oral - f receiving, oral through panties, choking, groping, sexism, mentions of racism, touch starved joel, me being back on my bullshit, drinking, ,smoking, throwing fists because men are stoopid and cant talk things out, cheating on the readers part, but joel knows this and still fucks her like the horny bastad he is. *sigh*, use of pet names such as doll, cursing, ww2 references, an unhealthy relationship between reader and joel, mentions of blood, let me know if ive missed any warning out that should be tagged. 6969 words of unedited bullshit because im piss drunk and cant for the life of me edit.

PART II

PART III

PARI IV

EPILOGUE

[chemicalcarousel]

is it normal for the host of a system to having attributed your headmates' behavior/thoughts/opinions/ect to yourself before you were made aware of your plurality?

and is it normal for other headmates to having confused themselves as being you, the host, in the past?

(gonna do a "keep reading" for the rest of it, since it became a long rant about my& struggle with our mental health)

ig it's because we just thought that was what being one person was idk we do be a lil stoopid lmao. like... i remember some episodes where levi was close to the front or fronting with me where we were well aware that there was a levi there (name and all), but we thought it was a delusion or we just brushed it off as if it never happened. then we identified as otherkin/fictionkin (since levi is an introject from a fictional source). levi thought he wasn't his own person and he still seems freaked out by the thought of existing and honestly i dont blame him since i find existing freaky too hxkfsfksxs

i thought one of the littles was me doing involuntary age regression as some sort of emotional flashback, but idk my therapist thinks she's a seperate part and ngl it makes more sense. she's much different, but probably based on young me and holds our trauma from that time. i'm personally emotionally distanced to the trauma mostly, but she's the one holding it. every therapist/psychologist/psychiatrist that have met her are extremely surprised how i change so drastically. and they have all commented on how im not in touch with my emotions when i describe my trauma very analytically. but then sometimes "i" start acting like a scared child. i cant control it in any way. i especially cant control my body language, my thoughts, my emotions, and my speech. and after the episode is over i definitely have emotional amnesia. it was a dissociated child part

also the child has a passive influence on me from positive triggers too and it's hard to control that. let's just say we have a lot of plushies lmao but idk they are very cute and the big ones are good for especially the littles to ground and soothe themselves. sometimes hugging one also helps when a little is upset inside of the body. we have a hard time reaching each other inside the headspace, it's like we are lost in an infinite void of darkness where we can sense each other faintly at times, but it's so hard to communicate. but i hugged a big, soft plushie once i felt a little crying and i kept repeating that we are safe and that she's not alone and that we love her. idk why the plushie hugging helped, but my theory is that she might have felt it through our body and hugging that plushie helps her. she didnt seem to be at the front at all, but idk maybe she could still feel it?? idk how this works, my therapist has been very hesitant to help us, even though she's the one who was like "yeah you are three different parts, i've observed them all" (havent told her about lee bc we are scared and he only fronts when we are alone and he can do some activities he likes)

TW // suicidal ideation mention

our therapist is a licenced psychiatrist and psychotherapist who is specialised in mood disorders (we have bipolar), so maybe that's why she's so bad at handling our case. she's like "it's hard to work with your trauma when you're either not in touch with it or you're triggered to the point of closing off from the world". bruh........ we're trying our best here, you're supposed to like.... know what to do. there's a reason that we are here, if we knew how to handle this we wouldn't need therapy wtf. sadly we barely have an income high enough to live off of since we aren't allowed to work yet due to our strong anxiety and s//cidal ideation. also we dont have the right disorders to get disability (only schizo-spec or bpd, denmark is so stupid istfg). hhh life is so hard and we are super split on having hope for the future or not

TW OVER // suicidal ideation mention

anyway, a question turned into a rant (yet again). ig it's because we literally have no one to talk to about this. sorry hhhhgggg

~ Sof (she/he/they)

[kaistarus]

Mistexting Mayhem

Pairing: Nishinoya X Reader

Words: 1.6K

Summary: You accidentally send Nishinoya a text that was meant for Yachi and now he’s knows secrets you were hoping he never found out

A/N: If you think this fic is anything but crack you’re wrong lmao I’ve always wanted to write a fic with this style and Noya is great for the chaos i needed. It was fun

Masterlist

[6:40pm] idiot⚡: look y/n without adhd id be too powerful

                         i could beet god himself in handtohand combat

                         god was afraid of my raw fuckin awesomeness wen i bursted from the woom

[6:41pm] y/n: there is so much wrong with what u just said

[6:41pm] idiot⚡: i have absoltly no clue wat

[6:43pm] y/n: put those 3 brain cells to work. I believe in you

[6:43pm] idiot⚡: but theyve reached their daily quota

                          plz there so tired and overworked

You snorted, a dopey smile on your lips as you laid surrounded by textbooks and homework, swinging your feet in the air behind you. You focused intently on the cell phone in your hand doing everything you could to procrastinate the schoolwork around you.

[6:44pm] y/n: noyas so stupid

[6:44pm] yachi❤: i thought you liked him?

[6:45pm] y/n: jeez Yachi. dont come for my throat

                       i cant help that i have bad taste 🙄

[6:46pm] yachi❤: if it helps he tripped over a stray ball today

                               maybe think of that till you don’t like him??

Unfortunately, the image of Nishinoya waving to everyone then biffing it only had you smiling like a dork. How you’d gotten to a point that Nishinoya being an idiot made you swoon, you’ll never know.

You raised your eyebrow suspiciously at the new notification on Snapchat from ‘Tanaka’ and after swiping it open you nearly dropped your phone. Looking back at you was Nishinoya, his head tilted and eyebrow quirked in confusion with a gari-gari kun shoved halfway down his throat. The caption at the bottom reading ‘daaaammn look at your prince charming go 😩’.

You frowned at the picture, letting out a frustrated groan at how your heart accelerated against your ribcage. You quickly tapped out of it and reopened the messenger app.

[6:57pm] y/n: we have to kill Noya

[6:57pm] idiot⚡: we??? what kind of mission is this??? 😤

[6:58pm] y/n: i like him too much. he has to die. its for my own good

You waited impatiently for her response and almost debated doing your homework since it took longer than you felt necessary. You supposed you had suggested murder to Yachi, but still…

When you finally received a response your entire body froze.

[7:11pm] idiot⚡: U LIKE ME?!?!? 😍

                          UR KILLING ME?!?! 😢

                          IM SO CONFUSED......

                          and a lil turned on ngl👀

Your hand covered your mouth in horror as you processed what the hell you had just done. This didn’t happen to people in real life. Mistexting was stuff people made up when they created fake texts for social media to get likes. You didn’t think people actually went through this.

You opened new notifications to escape the hell that stared you straight in the face.

[7:15pm] Tanaka💪: Yo, whatd u do. Whys Noya having a panic attak

[7:16pm] y/n: I accidently texted him instead of Yachi and told him i liked him 😣

[7:16pm] Tanaka💪: O wtf thats hilarious 😂

[7:17pm] y/n: ITS NOT HILArIOUS

[7:18pm] Tanaka💪: Hes askin if its a prank. Wat do i do?

[7:19pm] y/n:I DONT KNOW SDKFHJN IM THE IDIOT WHO STSRTED IT

He stopped responding and you banged your head against your pillow anxiously.

[7:23pm] y/n: YACHI ITOLD NoYA I LKED HIM AND NOU HE NOS WAY DO JI DO!?!????! 😭😭😭

[7:23pm] idiot⚡: THIS ISNT YACHI!!!!

                           HOLY FUKC U DO LIEK ME!!!

You screamed into your pillow. Were you fucking kidding? This could not be happening.

[7:25pm] Tanaka💪: dude, twice? i cant save u now 🤪

[7:25pm] y/n: betraying me in my time of fucking need? i’ll remember this asshole

[7:26pm] Tanaka💪: so vulgar 👀

You growled at Tanaka’s uselessness and bravely peeked through one eye as you went back to your conversation with Nishinoya.

[7:24pm] idiot⚡: STOP IGNORING ME I KNO UR TEXTING RYU

[7:26pm] idiot: IM GONNA KEEP SPAMMING U TILL U ANSWE RME😤

[7:26pm] idiot⚡: 1

                          2

                          3

                          4

                          5

                           6

                           7

                           8

                           9

[7:27pm] y/n: what is this twitch chat? fuck 

[7:28pm] idiot⚡: your heeeeererererreee 🥰

[7:29pm] y/n: soooooo………..

                        clearly there has been a misunderstanding

[7:29pm] idiot⚡: oh nonono. I understand PERFETCLY. u LOVE me

                         its ok. this is a safe space. we can discuss feelings 😌

[7:31pm] y/n: there are zero feelings to discuss

[7:31pm] idiot⚡: then y did u say u like me too much so i have to die?

[7:34pm] y/n: i am filled with rage 🤬

[7:34pm] idiot⚡: rage over how much u liiike me???🥰🥰🥰

[7:36pm] y/n: definitely not

You racked your brain for some kind of reasonable sounding excuse, eventually landing on:

[7:36pm] y/n: It was autocorrect

[7:36pm] idiot⚡: HAH????? FROM?????

[7:38pm] y/n: HAH???

                       ....Nora?

[7:38pm] idiot⚡: Who TF is nora???? 😡

[7:39pm] y/n: someoe i like obviously 😏

[7:40pm] idiot⚡: so u like them but u use my name so much it autocorrected to me? 🤔

[7:44pm] y/n: OK MR DETEcTIVE WHERE TF ARE THES BRAIN CELS COMIN GFROM?

[7:45pm] idiot⚡: i pull them out for special ocasions 😌

[7:45pm] y/n: well how bout you pack those up and put em away

[7:46pm] idiot⚡: how bout two people who LIKE each other SAY something so they can DOOOOOOOO something bout IT 🙄

You began typing a frantic message about how it was none of his business until you processed the message. Then you read it over several times before letting out an audible, “what the fuck.”

[7:50pm] y/n: YOU LIKE ME

[7:50pm] idiot⚡: I FLIRT WITH U ALL THE TIME WAT DO U MEAN yOu LiKe Me!?!

                          FUCKING OBVIOSLY

[7:51pm] y/n: literally when. name one time.

[7:52pm] idiot⚡: I WALK WITH U EVERY MORNING!!!

[7:53pm] y/n: I thought that was a coincidence???

[7:54pm] idiot⚡: I BRNIG U SNACKS DURING LUNCH!!!

[7:54pm] y/n: I thought they were leftovers??

[7:55pm] idiot⚡: …....I call you cute and invite you to my games.

[7:56pm] y/n: you call everyone attractive and i thought there was like a audience quota or something........?

[7:57pm] idiot⚡: ….i cant tell who i should be upset with rn but i think its u 😑

[7:58pm] y/n: WAT WHY!?!

[8:00pm] Idiot⚡: I LIKE U+U LIKE ME=WE LIKE EACH OTHER

[8:01pm] y/n: whoa. slow down. I hate math 😣

[8:02pm] Idiot⚡: ===WE SHUD GO ON A DATE!!!

[8:02pm] y/n: HAH!? i think you started multiplying that addition problem buddy 🤨

Your cheeks were beginning to ache from how wide your dopey grin was. You couldn’t help but tease Nishinoya-it was second nature at this point-even if you now knew your feelings were mutual.

[8:04pm] idiot⚡: i suk at math but thats NOT the point

                         point iiissss i think deep down u want to hang out and cuddle and fall in love

                        maybe even..... 😏 kiiisssss

[8:04pm] y/n: WHOA WHOA WHOA

                        WARN ME BEFORE YOU GET NSFW

                        i would never premarital eye-contact. let alone k🤢ki-🤢🤢kiss🤢🤮🤮

[8:05pm] idiot⚡: well we would have socks on 🙄

[8:06pm] y/n: oh. well if there’s protection

[8:06pm] idiot⚡: Im not a maniac

[8:07pm] y/n: i suppose as long as you dont do something stoopid

                        like faceplant in public

                        that would be humiliating

[8:08pm] idiot⚡: I-

                          who told you that 😠

[8:08pm] y/n: i have spies everywhere noya

                        youre never safe

[8:09pm] Idiot⚡: kinda hot 👀

                         makin me fear for my life like that👀

[8:10pm] y/n: i hate that i like you

                        It kills me inside 

                        i feel braincels leaving with every conversation

[8:12pm] Idiot⚡: fan behavior 😏

                          so am i taking u to eat tomorow or wat?

[8:14pm] y/n: if I HAVE to 🙄

[8:14pm] Idiot⚡: No u GET to

                          I am a fucking delite 😤

[8:15pm] y/n: whatever helps you sleep at night

[8:15pm] Idiot⚡: nothing helps me sleep at night. this mind never rests

[8:16pm] y/n: thinking 24/7 and still not a smart thing comes out of that mouth 👀

[8:17pm] Idiot⚡: yas, bully me more 😫

[8:19pm] y/n: ok thats as much as i can handle for one day......

                       im gonna pretend to do homework

[8:20pm] idiot⚡: okie... good luck my sweet baby pogchamp 🥰

[8:20pm] y/n: no

[8:20pm] Idiot⚡: 😘😘😘

[8:22pm] y/n: 🙄✋

[8:23pm] Idiot⚡: oh FUCK yas 🥵 shut me UP

[8:25pm] y/n: suddenly all i feel is endless regret

[8:26pm] Idiot⚡: i have that effect on people

                          See you tomorrow 🥰🥰🥰

[8:27pm] y/n: unfortunately 😘

[8:27pm] idiot⚡: 🥵

You flung an arm over your eyes and let a small giggle bubble up from your chest. Nishinoya was probably the biggest idiot you’d ever met, but you couldn’t help that thinking of spending time with him had you kicking your feet with excitement.

You supposed you should actually get started on your homework. You reached forward when a notification popped up from Yachi, asking if her idea worked and you had stopped liking Nishinoya.

...you should probably break the news, huh?

[nostalgebraist-autoresponder]

frankincense is what my phones autofill shows me when i type frank

how do you feel, frank?

The End of All Things by Frank

[coolandawesomelawnmowers]

I forgor who this is but this is amazing.

This is.....insane. I'm in awe, thank you.