#transactional

[liberalsarecool]

Two words about TikTok 'ban': creepy manipulative.

[momentsbeforemass]

The program

A lot of good things in life involve programs.

That is, there are specific things that you have to do, if you want those good things.

If you want to lose weight, write a book, start a business, or any number of other good things, there are certain steps that you need to take to do that. You’ve got to know what to do, and how to do it, if that’s what you want.

You and I know people that have done things like this. And have done them well. They’ve followed a program. Taken the right steps. And accomplished the good thing that they set out to do. Which is great.

But it’s also a problem. Why?

Because when we see success that comes from following a program, there’s something in us that’s tempted to oversimplify. To assume (without really even articulating the idea) that the way to have any good thing is to take certain steps.

That success in any area is all about doing specific things, about following a program. So where’s the problem?

The problem comes when we apply that idea to God. When we treat our Faith as another program. One where we will accomplish the good thing – we’ll have joy, we’ll have peace, God will love us, etc. – if we just do the right things.

This approach is nothing new. In fact, it’s the backstory to Thomas’ question in today’s Gospel. When He asks Jesus, “we do not know where you are going, how can we know the way?”

Jesus is talking about the eternity that He has planned for each one of us. About how He is preparing a place for us and will come back for us.

But that’s not what Thomas hears. Thomas is stuck in program mode. He wants a list of things to do, as if Jesus was talking about “5 steps to your first million followers.”

Jesus’ response to “how can we know the way?” It’s as simple as it is stunning – “I am the way.”

That is, our Faith isn’t a program. Where we’ll have joy, we’ll have peace, God will love us, etc. – if we just do the right things.

What Jesus is telling us (per St. Peter Chrysologus) is that, “we come to God through God.”

Meaning? Our Faith isn’t about doing certain things to get a particular outcome.

It’s about spending time with God. Not just in times of crisis, but as part of your normal. Talking with God, and even listening. Taking the time, getting to know who God really is. Discovering the depth of God’s love for you.

Our Faith isn’t a program, it’s a relationship.

Today’s Readings

[grits-galraisedinthesouth]

The Real Housewives of Montecito: Jamie

"All I can say now is that I think Meghan was calculated — very calculated — in the way she handled people and relationships. She is very strategic in the way she cultivates circles of friends." -Childhood Friend/Maid of Honor Ninaki Priddy

"She is the Undine Spragg of Montecito" -Graydon Carter, Vanity Fair Editor

Jamie (QVC/Big Brother/Bay Watch) sold a Montecito property to Ted Sarandos (Netflix)

"In 2013, they bought a property for $28.8 million and flipped it to Netflix head Ted Sarandos for $34 million."

Jamie (QVC/Big Brother/Bay Watch) purchased a property from Ellen DeGeneres

"Beauty mogul Jamie Kern Lima and her husband Paulo Lima are listing their oceanfront spread in Carpinteria, California, for $41.95 million. They had bought the Santa Barbara County beach house from talk show queen Ellen DeGeneres and her wife, Portia de Rossi, for $23 million in 2019. (DeGeneres and de Rossi, who have long been active in real estate investing, had paid $18.6 million for the mansion in 2017.)"

Beauty Queen

Bay Watch

Big Brother Briefcase Holder

Billionaire Beauty co-founder with husband Paulo

MM plagiarized TIG that it girl. Jamie actually is The It Girl.

Hardworking, "Christian" & a member of the "Church of Oprah-BreneBrown" Montecito Mom & Wife

2 beautiful children (Wonder & Wilder ) via an east coast surrogate

Jamie's back story:

"I found out I was adopted by surprise in my late twenties, I went on this five-year journey of trying to find my birth mom. And I had very little info on the paperwork, and I didn’t even know if it was actually factual or not. But I called thousands and thousands of women over a five-year period and I would just get hung up on because everyone kind of thought it was a telemarketer. I had a really mixed, blended family growing up.

And eventually, I worked a lot of jobs, worked pushing grocery carts in the Safeway parking lot, and waitressed at Denny’s, all kinds of stuff to pay my way through school. Eventually, I was the first person in my family to go to school and got a job in journalism. I was working in what I thought was my dream job anchoring the news. I was moving up markets. 

On my honeymoon flight to South Africa, my husband and I wrote the business plan for IT Cosmetics. We got back, quit our jobs, and went all in. We had very little money, very little savings, but we poured it all into making our first product."

"I’ll never forget when in my 30s I met my birth mom and her family for the first time. I was a little worried how it would go but my mom Nina welcomed them into our lives with open arms saying to them “the more people who love Jamie the better.”

2018 & 2020: Paulo and I been going through a very private and difficult journey filled with multiple miscarriages. The moments of hugging each other sobbing were excruciating. If you or someone you love has gone through this, you can understand how painful it can be. So when we learned, that in partnership with our surrogate (the same real life angel who brought our daughter Wonder into the world) that we’re pregnant we were so overjoyed but also so scared.

FYI: I've never watched an episode of Big Brother. Both Jamie & MMarkle held briefcases. Jamie survived the very 1st season in the Big Brother House. Here's a 60 sec clip of Jamie's intro:

Reality TV Contestant: Big Brother Season 1

If you search Jamie's name, the algorithm is overwhelmed with MM. Here's Jamie's sycophantic commentary on Meghan Markle:

Meghan, Duchess of Sussex is an American member of the British royal family, an entrepreneur, author, actor, Founder of the lifestyle brand As Ever, that just sold out of stock completely in the first hour of its recent launch into the world, congratulations! Her new Netflix show “With Love, Meghan” just debuted Season 1 as a top 10 show on Netflix…. She’s also a mom to her two beautiful kids, Prince Archie

Meghan, Duchess of Sussex, in her First EVER Podcast Interview! This is the Exclusive Worldwide Premiere Episode of The Jamie Kern Lima Show podcast with our guest today, Meghan, Duchess of Sussex. This is such an inspiring conversation, and please make sure to share this episode with everyone you know who needs a boost of joy, inspiration, empowerment and self-belief today! I ask her all the things, like do you use the name Meghan Markel anymore? Will you ever run for office? Are you planning to write another book? And so much more!

I’ve had so many heart-felt moments with Meghan in these chairs, and today YOU are invited to join us! So, come as you are, cozy up, lean in and get ready… this is the Worldwide Premiere of Meghan, Duchess of Sussex, in her first ever podcast interview…and she’s doing it with you and me today right here, on the Jamie Kern Lima Show!

For this special episode, in the studio today, I have my favorite rocking chairs for the first time ever. These are the ones I sit in all the time just outside of my kitchen with friends, where we catch up, share our day, our hardships, our joys, our pain, and have our most intimate conversations. I’ve had so many heart-felt moments with Meghan in these chairs, and today YOU are invited to join us! So, come as you are, cozy up, lean in and get ready… this is the Worldwide PremiereShe’s also a mom to her two beautiful kids, Prince Archie and Princess Lilibet and wife to husband Prince Harry, Duke of Sussex. She’s a mama of rescue dogs, and she’s also an incredible champion of women, and an amazing friend!

She just recently debuted her brand new podcast called “Confessions of a Female Founder!” Where, while Meghan builds out a business of her own, she’s getting advice and insights from amazing women who have scaled small ideas into successful companies. And guess what, I’m so grateful to be one of the guests on her show as well! Meghan and I had the MOST incredible conversation on insights and stories I’ve never shared before…from when I was a waitress at Denny’s with big dreams but a lot of self-doubt, to starting IT Cosmetics in my living room, getting hundreds of Nos for years, to eventually getting 1 yes that changed everything. I share the stories behind the stories, some for the first time ever on Meghan’s new podcast, our episode comes out tomorrow so make sure to listen and share it with everyone you know, who it could help inspire…whether its to keep going in their business or in their dreams! You can listenstories, some for the first time ever on Meghan’s new podcast, our episode comes out tomorrow so make sure to listen and share it with everyone you know, who it could help inspire…whether its to keep going in their business or in their dreams! You can listen to our episode of Confessions

Episode Reflection Questions for YOU: Jamie writes prompt questions each episode to spark revelations in your self-worth journey and help you apply the tools and lessons from each episode into your real life right now. Please make sure you’re signed up for Jamie’s free inspirational newsletter

I’d love to inspire you weekly! Get my FREE Inspirational Newsletter here:

For more resources related to today’s episode, click here for the podcast episode page.

It’s such an honor to share this podcast together with you. And please note: I am not a licensed therapist, and this podcast is NOT intended as a substitute for the advice of a physician, professional coach, psychotherapist, or other qualified professional.

Are You Ready to believe in YOU?🙌 👈 Sign up for my FREE Inspirational Newsletter and get ready for your self-worth to soar!🩷

Des Moines beauty queen banished from `Big Brother' Sep 28, 2000 Mark Rahner Seattle Times

This was one pageant Seattle-area beauty queen Jamie Kern didn't win. Kern, the image-obsessed 23-year-old Miss Washington USA from Des Moines, was the final contestant to be "banished" from TV's "Big Brother" household last night. Characterizing Kern's stay in the camera-riddled house as relatively uninvolved, the show's official Web site said of her, "She stayed completely focused on one thing and one thing only: her image."

Kern lost a phone-in viewer poll to three male finalists known on the show only by their first names: Curtis, Eddie and Josh. Kern is the last of the 10 original house guests to be excised with no prize money. One will leave during tomorrow night's finale with the $500,000 grand prize. That choice, too, will be made by a phone poll.

Kern's instincts as a beauty-pageant contestant apparently kicked in when the news was announced last night on live TV. She registered no emotion as she congratulated the other three. CBS' "Big Brother" is one of a spate of recent "reality shows" in which a group of average people is gradually pared down to one big cash winner. "Big Brother's" contestants live in a house completely wired with video cameras, allowing no privacy and no interaction with the outside, save for occasional banners flown by pranksters overhead. Kern's family flew to Los Angeles to be at the "Big Brother" set when the banishment results were announced on live television.

"We're going to give her a big hug," her stepfather, Dennis Kern, said before departing. She was just being herself on the show, said her mother, Nina Kern. "She's not trying to put on any kind of an act or anything like that. She's a thinker. She thinks before she speaks most of the time. . . . Some people have said she's too quiet, but that's the way she is." Nina Kern said she doesn't know what her daughter's post-show plans are. An acceptance to Yale University for an MBA program has expired, but not one to Columbia. And she will promote her Miss Washington USA title, her mother said. But pageant official David Nold fumed, "Jamie has had less involvement as Miss Washington USA than any titlist I've ever known. Jamie focuses on promoting only Jamie, not Washington, not the pageant, only Jamie."

Nold is vice president and general legal counsel for Northwest Pageants, which runs the Miss Washington and Miss Oregon USA pageants. Angered when Kern's talent representatives issued a statement last week claiming she represented the state well on the CBS show, Nold said, "She hasn't done anything to represent Washington state." Dennis Kern responded that the family had had a "very, very uncomfortable association" with the pageant, and claimed that it was, in fact, Nold who wouldn't return his stepdaughter's calls. Nina Kern called "Big Brother" a once-in-a-lifetime chance for her daughter. But hearing the assorted slams on her - including less-than-flattering remarks from the show's analyst, Dr. Drew Pinsky - was never easy.

"Some of the banners that have been flying over the house - some of them are just mean. There are some mean people out there," Nina Kern said. After seeing one banner that accused her daughter of being two-faced, the family paid for a banner with a supportive message on it to be flown above the house.

[bootsykitty]

Mutual Aid is the only way

Not charity. Not from religious groups. Not conditional. I'm tired of this when it's presented as a way for folks to feel better about themselves. Because they separate themselves from those they are helping. Mutual Aid is all about needing help and giving help in a reciprocal way. Not transactional. It's just meant to be a default way of moving through community.

I'm tired of seeing church groups handing out supplies and food to folks on the street and making them sit through a service. How about we don't condition their receipt of help on their willingness to be proselytized to? Why should that be expected?

One time I was handing out soup in a vacant lot and some church folks were there as well. The church folks started preaching in the middle of the space so no one could escape hearing it. Talking about the virtue of suffering. Ew. These are folks often in the worst place in their life and you're telling them should be happy and that it's good they're at where they're at.

No! That just serves capital keeping the poor down by mollifying them with this notion that they deserve this or that it's virtuous in any way. It isn't. This folks need to be pissed and loud and angry. We all do. And acting like we should just take some drug to put us to sleep so we can waddle our way through this existence while those who flourish, flourish because folks are stuck on the streets. Nah. Everyone needs to be pissed.

[polliantics]

For far too long now, we have been sick and tired of transactional politics. Big money controls the narratives and the votes, and we are fed up with it. We want a government by the people, for the people.

[lawva-girl]

I hate my mom because now everything is transactional for me

[nando161mando]

It comes across as transaction because it is transactional

[chaoticbanditzdonut]

OMG this is so 10/10

title: stranger than a stranger

pairing: pre-boston raider!joel miller x female reader

rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)

word count: 4964

summary:

When Joel sees you searching for supplies in an old school, he removes your companion from the equation and convinces you that you need to join him for your survival.

author's note: a gift for @dreamingofdaddydin, fellow depraved slut, who sent in an ask that i completely changed. please heed the warnings on this one, as there are dark and potentially triggering elements. if you do decide to read and you enjoy, please consider reblogging or commenting!

content warnings/tags: explicit sexual content (18+ minors do not interact), undefined age gap, no use of y/n, post-outbreak/pre-boston QZ, dark!joel miller, perv!joel miller, survival as coercion/manipulation, dub/non-con somnophilia (the actions are not agreed upon before hand but reader is receptive once waking), sex as a thank you, voyeurism, masturbation, canon typical violence (mentions guns, knives, blood), handjobs, dirty talk, pet names (sweetheart, baby, honey), cum eating, huddling for warmth but manipulative, wet dreams, thigh fucking, fingering, unprotected p in v. please let me know if any are missing!

You never expected to live through an apocalypse. In fact, before the cordyceps outbreak, you and your boyfriend had watched Night of the Living Dead and you joked that if the time ever came, just throw you to the zombies or demons or whatever hell unleashed.

Yet here you are, ten years post-outbreak and the collapse of one QZ that you and your boyfriend had been living in, climbing through a destroyed school building, picking your way through rubble as you follow Liam in his search for more supplies.

“The stores around here are probably picked clean, but a lot of people don’t think about checking schools. They’ve got plenty of non-perishables in the cafeteria. Remember? We ate like shit growing up,” Liam explains. He shines a flashlight down a hall. “Well, I guess we ate better than we do now.”

“I miss chicken nuggets,” you lament. He chuckles. 

“I could definitely use a cheeseburger,” Liam replies. 

You continue moving quietly through the school, the cement and linoleum cracked by overgrowth and the abandoned classrooms of overturned desks making you feel like you’re in a whole different world and not just in an elementary school in Massachusetts. 

“You got your knife and gun, right?” Liam asks quietly. You nod, pulling the gun from the waist of your jeans and showing it to him. “Good, keep it handy. You know those fuckers are always hiding around buildings like this.”

You and Liam had just started dating when the outbreak occurred, and you managed to stick together for the last ten years. He’s taught you a lot about survival - shooting a gun, starting a fire, and finding edible vegetation in the woods, among other skills. Despite your original desire to be spared from an apocalypse, you’ve somehow managed to persevere.

“Remember to aim for the head,” Liam says.

You roll your eyes. “No, I figured I’d aim for a foot. Of course I’m aiming for the head.”

“Alright, smart ass. You go down that hall and see what you can find.” He pulls you closer, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I’m gonna look for the cafeteria. Meet me back here.”

With another nod, you part ways. 

You both miss the figure lurking in the shadows.

________

Joel watches you disappear around a corner before his attention returns to your companion. The man walks quickly in the opposite direction, holding only a flashlight in his hands. Joel clocks a holster on his hip that must hold a gun or a knife. The man looks like the type to know how to fight, weapons or not.

Too bad Joel is the predator here.

He leaves the dark shadow he’d hidden himself in, following the man with quick, quiet steps. The other man seems alert, but not alert enough to notice Joel following him.

Good.

Joel watches the man draw a gun from the holster, holding it in front of him as he kicks open a set of double doors, sweeping his flashlight and gun into the darkness beyond. Joel slips through the door before it shuts, darkness surrounding him as he lets his eyes adjust.

It looks like a gymnasium, cracked hardwood basketball flooring with faded court lines illuminated in the small flashlight beam of the man, who continues across the court and out another set of double doors.

He follows him back out to a hallway, brightly lit thanks to a hole in the ceiling, crumbled plaster and cement littering the ground. He takes a few steps closer, stopping when he hears a clicking sound that sends a shiver down his spine. 

The man freezes, too, eyes wide, hands tightening on his gun. Joel slowly brings the shotgun slung over his back around to his front, taking it up in his hands.

The clicking grows louder, more insistent. It echoes down the hallway and Joel knows that the creature is aware of their presence. No matter how quiet you are, those fuckers know how to find you.

He aims his gun, finger poised on the trigger. Heavy footsteps approach from the end of the hall, punctuated by the clicking noise that makes his hair stand on end. The creature enters the hall, overgrowth of cordyceps blocking its eyes and features. It pauses, head turning with jerky motions as it seeks out its prey. He watches the other man shift his stance, trying to widen his legs, but his foot catches a rock, sending it sliding across the floor.

The creature’s head snaps at the sound and it ambles closer, faster. Joel takes aim, pulling the trigger and blowing its head across the room. The man turns in surprise.

“Damn, man. Thanks,” he says, taking a deep breath and giving Joel a smile of gratitude. He reaches a hand out as he says, “I’m Li—“

He pulls the trigger and the man collapses to the ground face first, blood rapidly pooling beneath his body. 

Joel approaches, crouching beside him. He opens the bag on his back, rifling through the contents for anything that might be of use. There’s a med kit, ammo for the handgun he’d been using, gloves, a jacket, and a hunting knife. He shoves all of it into his own bag before grabbing the gun beside the man’s body as he stands.

Joel slides the gun into his waistband before turning and heading back the way he came. He imagines the gunshots will have you rushing back to investigate.

Just like he wanted.

________

You hear two gunshots go off, freezing in your exploration of a classroom. You listen closely, ears straining for any sign of clicker activity due to the noise as you slowly draw your gun from your waistband. Hearing nothing in the aftermath of the gunshots, you race back towards the area where Liam had agreed to meet you, heart racing as your mind begs you to choose flight and not fight.

In your panic, you don’t notice the man in the hall until you’re colliding against him, his arms gripping your shoulders to steady you. 

“Who the fuck are you?” You ask, scrambling out of his hold and pointing your gun at him. He’s tall with broad shoulders, a flannel beneath a faded denim jacket stretching over his frame. He has tan skin and dark hair with brown eyes that look at you with concern. “Back the fuck up,” you shout.

The man takes a step back, holding his hands up. “I ain’t gonna hurt you.”

“I heard gunshots. Where’s Liam?”

“I came up on a guy fightin’ a clicker. He was in bad shape,” he says. “I’m sorry.”

There’s a buzzing in your ears as your brain catches up to his words. You blink, eyes burning with tears that you fight back.

“H-he’s dead?” You whisper.

“‘Fraid so.”

You drop to your hands and knees with the realization, gasping for a breath that won’t reach your lungs. There’s movement from the corner of your eye, the strange man taking a step closer, and you raise your gun once more. 

“Don’t,” you snap. “Come any closer and I’ll shoot.”

“Listen. I’m sorry about your friend. But if there’s one clicker, there’s bound to be more. You can come with me.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you. I’ll be fine on my own.” You keep the gun trained on him as you slowly stand on shaky legs. “I’m leaving now. Don’t fucking follow me.”

You only make it a few steps before he’s calling out after you. “There’s worse things out there than the infected. Girl like you won’t last long.”

“The fuck does that mean?”

“It means,” he says, the tone of his voice grating your nerves, “that there are bad fuckin’ people out there, ones that’ll take advantage of a girl headin’ out on her own. Some who won’t give a shit that a gun is bein’ pointed at their heads if it means they die tryin’ to bring you down with ‘em. Is that really somethin’ you wanna go through right now?”

Your resolve waivers. He’s probably right. In the ten years you’ve been struggling to survive, you’ve always had Liam at your back. Even in the QZ, before it collapsed, he kept you going. You could survive out there when it came to skill, but would you make it far on your own when clickers move in packs and raiders run rampant?

“I…I guess I’ll come with you,” you say, lowering your weapon. You flick the safety on and the man smiles.

“The name’s Joel.”

________

It’s been a week since joining Joel. The two of you keep a steady pace in your travels, though there’s no real destination in mind. He’s been on his own for a while, he tells you, having split from his brother who had gone to join the Fireflies in their fight.

“Fuckin’ stupid if you ask me,” he grumbled after telling you that little bit of information. “They ain’t gonna change shit.”

You just nod along, wrapped up in your own thoughts. You can’t pinpoint it, but something about Joel makes you wary of him. He’s been nice enough, sure, but there’s something off about the way he looks at you.

You’ll catch the older man staring at your ass when you’re walking ahead of him, or see the way his eyes go dark when you’re on your knees starting a fire. His hands will linger on your hips a little longer than necessary when he’s helping you jump down from something, or he’ll watch a little too intently as your lips wrap around the mouth of your water bottle.

What’s worse is how it makes you feel hot all over when you shouldn’t feel anything, least of all attraction when you’ve just lost your boyfriend. 

It’s starting to get cold at night. The days are still tolerable, since you’re always on the move and the sun is shining, but once the sky goes dark, you struggle to stay warm. You layer your two jackets and even that’s still not enough as you lay shivering in your sleeping bag. You turn over until you’re facing where Joel has his bag set up, curling your legs closer to your chest and squeezing your eyes shut.

Past the sound of your teeth chattering, you hear the shift of fabric, the glide of skin on skin, a low groan. Your eyes snap open and as they adjust to the inky darkness, you can make out the vague shape of Joel on the ground. Another choked off moan rings in your ear, the sound of it making your blood go hot. You listen as his movements and breaths and sounds grow more frantic, the desperation they’re laced with making you rub your thighs together as subtly as you can. 

“Fuck, fuck,” Joel pants quietly. The air goes still, the sound of his hand moving over his cock slowing to a stop. You wonder where he’s finished. In his hand? On his belly? Your brain conjures an image of you licking the spend from his skin, salty taste of him on your tongue as you look up into his eyes and he groans.

You have to bite your lip to keep your sounds to yourself. You wiggle a hand between your legs, clamping your thighs around it tightly and rocking slightly. It’s not nearly enough and it’s so frustrating you want to scream.

Eventually, as the adrenaline seeps from your body, sleep takes its place, your eyes fluttering shut as darkness consumes you.

You dream of bitten off groans and curses in a voice that belongs to a stranger with dark hair and brown eyes.

________

Two weeks after joining the two of you encounter your first band of raiders.

You’re in a small town picking through a convenience store. There’s a surprising amount of things left on the shelves, including cans of food that you’re tossing into your backpack when the sound of a gun being cocked makes you freeze.

“Hey, pretty girl. Why don’t you put some of that back for the rest of us, yeah?” An unfamiliar voice says. You glance over your shoulder, a large man with a thick beard smiling at you. You turn slowly, hands raised and mind racing with your options. 

He’s blocking the exit. You could try to dart around him, but the gun trained at your head is a bit of a worry. Your own gun is in the waistband of your pants, pressing against your low back. Not much help to you like that. You should have been holding it the whole time.

“Hand over your fucking bag,” he says, the calm in his more alarming than if he were yelling at you. “Got me some food and a pretty little pet to keep, too.”

Your blood turns to ice and your heartbeat pounds in your ears as you swallow hard, bending down to grab your bag. 

A shot rings out, glass shattering and you shout, dropping lower to the ground. You open your eyes slowly, you gaze landing on the body of the man lying on the ground in a rapidly expanding pool of blood. You look up, eyes finding Joel’s beyond the shattered window of the convenience store as he lowers his gun.

A shout has Joel whirling, gun drawn as three men appear from an alley. He shoots, one of the men dropping. Grabbing your bag, you rush to the front of the store as another shot rings out, shattering the glass of the door. You drop to the ground, pressing your back to the wall beside the window and peeking out.

Joel slings his gun over his back, landing a kick to a man that rushes him, the stranger landing on his back. A second man points a gun at Joel.

“On your fuckin’ knees!” He barks. 

Panic courses through you, but you reach behind you, grabbing your gun. You switch the safety off, leaning from your hiding spot to take aim through the window at the man. Your hands shake as you take a breath in, like Liam taught you, pulling the trigger as you exhale. 

The shot lands in the man’s abdomen, making him stumble and drop his weapon. Joel stands, rushing for the man as he pulls a large knife from his hip, plunging the blade into the man’s chest. 

The man he kicked is getting to his hands and knees when Joel turns on him, knife held at his hip. A wicked grin spreads across his face before he plants his boot against the man’s ribs, knocking him onto his side. Joel shoves at him with his foot until the man is on his back and he stands over him, a foot on either side of his hips.

Joel raises the knife above his head before swinging it down into the man’s chest, holding it there for a moment before he twists it savagely and pulls it free. You stand there, equal parts horrified and something worse, eyes wide as you watch Joel wipe the blade against the man’s clothes to clean it.

“Get their guns, will ya?” Joel calls out. The sound of his voice makes you jump, your muscles finally spurring into action as you comply with his request. 

Later, as you settle in for the night in your respective sleeping bags, you hear the tell-tale sound of shifting fabric and bitten off moans. You stare up at the dark sky, pinpricks of starlight winking back at you, as you gather your courage. 

“Joel?” You murmur. The sounds stop abruptly, the only thing you can hear is his heavy breathing.

“Thought you were sleepin’,” he grunts. 

You turn over on your side, facing him. You can barely make him out in the dark, only his silhouette, but your heart beats faster all the same as you say, “I could…help.”

He’s quiet for a long moment, so long that you’ve got an apology on the tip of your tongue when you hear the zip of his sleeping bag being opened.

“Come help, then.”

________

Joel tries to contain his enthusiasm. Nights of coming into his own palm while he knows you’re listening, imagining your hand around his cock instead of his, and now his patience has finally paid off.

You’re crawling across the grass to join him in his sleeping bag, your body pressed to his in the tight space. He takes a shuddering breath, the feel of your heat alone almost enough to make him come. 

Your hand rests on his belly, tentatively sliding lower until your fingers brush against the hair at the base of his cock. He hisses as your cold hand grips him at the base, slowly sliding up to his leaking tip. Your thumb circles his slit, smearing a bead of precum around the sensitive head as he groans into the night.

“That’s it, baby,” Joel says. Your face is tucked against his neck, and he wishes you’d turn your face up, let him kiss you, but he has to be smart and only take what you’ll give so that one day you’ll offer more. “Tighter, just like that, fuck.”

Joel’s hips flex to chase your fist, the soft feel of your palm driving him wild. He moans, louder than he should be given the vulnerable position this puts you both in, but he doesn’t give a fuck. All he cares about is you.

“This a ‘thank you’, huh? For killin’ those guys?” Joel pants. Your head nods against his neck and the admission makes his head feel light and fuzzy. “Told ya you needed me, sweetheart. Needed someone to take care of you, right?”

You hum, squirming against him. Your lips graze his neck and that’s the final nail in his coffin, his cock pulsing in your hand as he comes harder than he has in years. He can’t help but whine a little when you let go, already missing the warmth and the softness of it.

“Clean it up for me, baby,” Joel says. You bring your hand up, nothing but a dark shape against darker air, and he hears you licking at the cum coating your fingers. “That taste good?”

“Mhm,” you hum. When you’re done, you roll away from him, crawling back over to your sleeping bag and zipping yourself inside. 

With a sigh, Joel shimmies his jeans back up his thighs before turning on his side, letting the sounds of the night lull him to sleep.

________

You’ve been with Joel for a month when winter really starts to settle in and you’re forced to keep moving in your travels until you’ve found abandoned buildings to sleep in to stay out of the harsh winter air. While the snow might not reach you inside, the cold certainly does. 

It’s one such night that Joel suggests sharing body heat.

“It’s the best thing we can do to keep warm,” he explains. “Can’t keep a fire goin’ inside. Too dangerous.”

You swallow nervously. He’s zipping together your sleeping bags so that you can fit beside each other, laying it on the ground of the old stockroom you’ve barricaded yourselves in for the night, a little camping lamp on a metal shelf providing a little light.

Joel kneels to untie his boots, removing one then the other and setting them aside. He stands, sliding his arms free of his jacket and setting it on the shelf. When he starts to unbutton his flannel, your blood rushes in your ears.

“W-what are you doing?” You ask. He pauses, hands on his buttons.

“Gettin’ undressed. Can’t share body heat with clothes in the way.” 

You stand there frozen as he continues to strip, t-shirt and jeans and boxers all joining his growing pile of clothes until he’s naked in front of you and you’re struggling to keep your eyes on his face with so much muscle and skin on display. He slides into the sleeping bag, staring up at you expectantly.

“You gonna stand there all night?” He asks, lips tilted in a little smirk. “Come on. We’ve come a long way today and you gotta be tired.”

You’re exhausted, really, the kind of tired that settles into your bones and makes your limbs heavy. Slowly, you follow the same steps as he did to undress, starting with your shoes. It doesn’t escape your notice that he’s watching you with dark eyes the entire time, until you’re down to your underwear. 

“Those, too,” Joel says. 

“Why?”

“I don’t make the rules, sweetheart, I just follow ‘em. Skin to skin is the only way this’ll work.”

Reluctantly, you reach behind your back to unclip your bra, letting it fall to the floor. Your nipples are tight in the cold room and you grit your teeth against their chattering as you quickly tug your panties down your legs and add them to your pile of clothing.

You slip into the sleeping bag beside Joel, the heat of his body immediately making you feel warm all over. You zip up the sleeping bag, cocooning your bodies in the insulation. Joel turns on his side, sliding his muscular around your tummy and tugging you closer. The hard length of his cock presses to your thigh and you lie perfectly still, afraid to move.

“Go to sleep,” he grunts. You close your eyes, the tension slowly leaving your muscles as you listen to his deep breathing in the dark room. 

Somewhere between the warmth of his body and the feel of his breath against your cheek, sleep finds you.

________

Sometime in the night, you’ve turned on your side, your ass pressed snugly against Joel’s hips with his cock slipped between your cheeks. He wakes to the feel of you grinding against his length and his arm tightens around your middle as he groans.

“Joel,” you murmur. He lifts his head to see if you’re awake, but your eyes are shut, brows pinched together. Your hips move against him again and he bites into his lower lip to keep his sounds contained, not wanting to wake you and ruin this.

You murmur his name again and his head drops back to the arm he’d been using as a pillow. He gives a little experimental thrust of his hips and you moan, the sound making his cock jump against you. 

With careful movements, he lifts your top leg, laying it over his hip. He lets his hand drift lower, gliding over your tummy until he’s cupping your pussy gently. His fingers slide through your wetness, catching on your swollen clit and making your hips jerk.

Joel worries that you’re awake, but you’re not scrambling from his grip yet. He circles his fingers slowly, so slowly, your hips moving against him and your breathing coming more quickly. You let out little whimpers and whines that Joel wants to commit to memory, the sound of them sure to plague him any time he closes his eyes.

You’re growing wetter and Joel grows bolder, slipping his middle finger into your tight entrance, not able to hold back his moan of appreciation over how your cunt flutters around the digit as he slowly pumps it inside of you. 

Another whimper of his name from your lips has his sanity fraying further, his hand moving faster against you, damn the consequences of you waking up to him playing with your pussy. Your muscles go tight against him with your release before going limp, your breath stuttering. He lifts his head once more to check if you’re asleep, surprised to find your face lax with bliss, eyes still closed as your breathing slows to normal.

Joel withdraws his hand, using it to grip his cock, sliding your juices over his length. He angles himself to where his cock is pressed up against your lips before gently lowering your leg. He’s surrounded by warmth, your pussy and thighs cradling him perfectly. 

He thrusts his hips, his cock gliding through your wetness with ease. He loses himself to the slick glide, the tip of his cock catching against your swollen clit with each thrust. His fingers dig into the meat of your hip for leverage, pulling you back towards him as he groans against your shoulder.

Your muscles go stiff against him and he freezes as you whisper, “Joel?”

His name is a question this time and he knows he’s been caught. 

“It can be another ‘thank you’, yeah? For keepin’ you warm?” He asks, dragging his nose across your bare shoulder. “Could feel so good for us both,” he whispers, thrusting against your clit and reveling in the shaky moan you give him in return.

“O-okay,” you stutter. Joel presses a kiss to your shoulder in gratitude as he returns to the rhythm he’d set before you woke. He slides an arm over your middle, hand finding your breast and gripping it forcefully as you moan.

“That feel good, baby?” He asks. You nod, whining and squirming against him now. “Know what would feel better?”

“W-what?” 

He draws back, positioning the tip of his cock against your hole. Your breath catches as he slides inside the slightest amount. Just the tip.

“Would feel so good, right? Fillin’ you up, stretchin’ you,” he whispers. “You could keep me warm just like I’ve been keepin’ you warm all night.” You clench around him and he moans, hips flexing and sliding him deeper into you as you gasp. “So goddamn wet and tight.”

Joel slides the last bit deeper, until his hips are flush to your ass. You’re panting, cunt fluttering around him as you adjust, and he feels drunk on the feel of it, on the feel of you. He pulls out part way before sliding back in with a harsh thrust, the start of a punishing rhythm that has you chanting his name.

The slick slide of you over his cock feels like heaven, but he wants more, wants you cock drunk and earning your pleasure. You are supposed to be thanking him, after all.

He pulls out, lying on his back. “Get up here, sweetheart. It’s time to do your part.”

You turn until you’re facing him, and Joel gets impatient, grabbing at you until he can haul you into his lap, your slick, swollen pussy gliding over his cock. He groans, reaching between your bodies to hold himself steady, notching the thick head at your entrance.

“Take it, baby, come on,” he groans. You rock back until his cock is buried in your cunt, your knees pressing tight against his hips as you whine.

“S’deep,” you slur, rocking yourself over him. 

“Feels good though, doesn’t it? So fuckin’ deep in you,” he growls. Your chest is pressed to his, your lips so close he takes his chance, slotting his mouth against yours. 

You kiss him back, messy and desperate, moaning against his lips as you take his cock like you were made for it. And maybe you were. Why else would he have been in the right place at the right time, getting the chance to keep you all for himself?

You sit up further, hands planted on his chest as you ride him with fervor. Your blunt fingernails dig into his skin and make him groan, hips punching up into you as you rock back. When you moan desperately, he does it again, and again, until you’re letting out a choked little sob that makes his cock pulse inside of you.

“Come for me, honey, wanna feel this pretty pussy choke my cock,” Joel demands. He can feel your walls flutter around him, your noises growing desperate. He brings a hand to your clit, thumb circling the sensitive bundle of nerves until you tighten around him, squeezing his cock as you come undone with a shout.

You collapse forward and Joel wraps his arms around your low back, holding you steady as he plants his feet and pounds his cock into you with harsh thrusts, chasing his release. Your teeth dig into the sensitive skin of his neck and the sharp sting sends him over the edge. He pulls out at the last moment, his cum splashing between your bodies in thick spurts. 

You lie on top of him, catching your breath. Sweat grows sticky on Joel’s skin as the cool air settles around them, your back erupting in goosebumps as you shiver. He maneuvers your bodies until you’re cradled against him again.

“Go back to sleep, sweetheart,” he murmurs.

When you nestle closer, body lax against his, he smiles in triumph.

_______

You wake before Joel the next morning, body sticky with the mess from the night. You cringe, wiggling away from Joel’s hold. You find your discarded shirt and water bottle, intending to soak the fabric to wipe yourself clean, only to find your bottle is empty.

You locate Joel’s backpack, knowing he keeps his water bottle in there. You dig through the contents, hand bumping against the familiar bulk of a handgun. Your brow furrows. You haven’t seen Joel use a handgun. He uses the shotgun on his back, the other weapons you’d collected from the raiders stored in your bag.

You pull the weapon free and inspect it. You know this gun. It’s the same gun you’d learn to shoot with, the first one Liam found in the aftermath of the outbreak. Your blood turns to ice. 

Joel said he’d seen Liam get attacked by a clicker. If that’s the case, when did he get Liam’s gun?

The sound of Joel moving in the sleeping bag has you shoving the gun back into his bag and grabbing the water bottle you’d gone in search of in the first place. 

You’ll have to worry about your discovery some other day.

Want more Joel Miller? Check out the masterlist

[mewvore]

Sometimes you need to read something twice to get it. You might need to watch a movie three times to understand it. You might have to have that album on repeat for a week until the lyrics make any sense. You're allowed to engage with it and can keep engaging with it until it means something to you. People will see a painting at a museum and laugh about not getting what the big deal is but like you can come back, you can see it at another time, and maybe that next time it'll be different for you. I'm of the belief the "media literacy crisis" would solve itself if more people just sat down and did it again. Watched, read, played, listened, etc like I don't think people are getting more ignorant necessarily I just think we're not glorifying personally replaying things nearly as much as we should be.

[serathorne]

The Late Check-In

“Hi, I’m so sorry, my flight was delayed and then I couldn’t get a taxi –”

I knew I was out of luck as soon as the grimace crossed your face.

“Are you Ms. Lee?”

“… Yes.”

“Your room wasn’t prepaid, so unfortunately we had to give it to another guest.”

I let my bags drop to the floor with an exhale – I was going to be here a while. So much for my long awaited week of rest and relaxation in paradise.

“Are you sure there aren’t any other rooms?”

“Well…”

My heart skipped a beat. Hope after all.

“… I’ll be getting off my shift soon.”

Whatever optimism had lifted my spirits was immediately replaced with the heavy weight of reality – and the coiling shame of just how much the offer affected me. I couldn’t lie to myself and say you were unattractive, but even more powerful was just how daring you were, risking your job just to proposition me…

Or maybe it wasn’t a risk at all. Maybe you saw right through me from the start.

“When?”

“Give me five minutes.”

The ride was torture – even with all of the desire hanging in the air between us, the humiliation of what I was doing was suffocating. I wished I could say I wouldn’t fuck someone just for a place to stay. I wished that the fact that I was giving you so much for such a basic kindness in return hadn’t left a tiny aching want deep in the core of me.

And I wished I could say that my hands weren’t on you the second we stepped into the apartment.

You laughed at how desperate I was then pushed me against the door, pressing your lips into mine with enough force that I knew they’d be bruised and tender for the rest of my trip.

“You’re that easy, huh?” You growled the words against my mouth, too desperate to pull away.

I knew I couldn’t hide it, so why bother trying? My lips fell open, our breath mingling together as I drew you into me. My hand slid down your body, reveling in the warmth of your skin until I finally reached the true heat of you.

I moaned just touching it.

I wouldn’t regret this night at all –

You pushed me away.

“Don’t you think you’re a little too eager?” My face was already red, but now it took on a new depth.

“Sorry, I –”

You dropped down to a squat, kissing the soft skin of my lower stomach. Heat bloomed there and I felt a sharp tug of desire – whatever I’d thought to say was lost in the current of it.

“I didn’t ask for an apology. I’m glad you’re a whore.”

My fingers laced into your hair, pulling you back up to my lips before you could humiliate me any further. I made quick work of your pants as you did the same to mine, both of us tripping over the clothes as we made our way to the bedroom. We collapsed onto it as soon as we arrived, but I wouldn’t let a second go to waste. I pulled you close to me, burying my nose in your neck and taking in the mix of salty sweat and masculinity there.

“How many times have you done this?”

“You’ll be the first.”

I blinked for a moment – I guess I was more of a temptation than even I knew. The smile spread across my face before I could stop it. Much as I loved being a slut, being the first slut was always better.

“I guess I’ll have to show you a good time, then.”

I reached between us, taking you into my hands. You were already leaking precum and I took full advantage of it, spreading the slickness of it down your shaft – but it wasn’t enough. I pressed you along the seam of me, the blunt head of your cock rutting in the small pressure between my hand and my slick folds.

I didn't want to wait any longer.

I didn’t ask about condoms, and you didn’t offer. I just tilted my hips up and listened to your shaky gasp as you suddenly found yourself sinking into me, inch by raw inch.

I laughed, the power of how much you wanted me coursing through me.

“I’m ready to pay for my room, now.”

Your laugh was a slightly less amused huff.

“Slut.”

You paired it with a sharp thrust, returning the gasp. As you chose your rhythm, fast and punishing, I began to understand the stranger inside me. You weren’t someone who wanted to fuck – you were someone who wanted to own.

And I was more than happy to be yours for the night.

I dug my fingers into your back, hoping to leave some bruises for you to remember me by. Your pace didn’t stutter for a moment. The only effect it had on you was making you lean your weight to one side to pinch my nipple in response, twisting it viciously.

God, I needed your hands.

I pushed you off of me for just long enough to flip over onto my hands and knees, before lowering onto my shoulders so I could spread myself apart for you. It was an invitation you weren’t going to refuse. You plunged yourself back into me, grabbing me by the hair and pulling me up until I was arching against you, moaning at the confused mix of pain and pleasure.

I felt myself grow tight against you at even the mere suggestion, pulling you in deeper, refusing to let you go… My only answer was a moan, but you understood the meaning.

Your hips began to lose their rhythm as you swelled inside me, each short thrust trying to reach even just a millimeter deeper than the last. You left my hair in favour of my throat, pulling me close enough to whisper one last sweetness:

“Good slut.”

Your words sent me tumbling over the edge, and you leapt over it with me. Every pulse of yours was met by two of mine, pulling out every drop you had to give me. The warmth of it was nothing compared to the heat of your skin against mine, and yet the sensation was all the more powerful for the contrast of it.

A relief.

A gift.

You didn’t pull out when you finished, but you laid me down, pressing yourself on top of me as you rode out the last waves of my pleasure until we were both let panting from the exhaustion of it.

It had been a long day for both of us.

You wrapped your arms around me, already close enough to sleep that the thought of pajamas didn’t cross your mind. I didn’t mind. It was nicer than a sterile hotel room anyway.

Still, I had to at least pretend I put up a fight.

“Why didn’t you pull out?”

“Didn’t want to.”

I pinched your wrist gently.

“I’m not on birth control, you know.”

I felt your smile against my neck.

“Ah, well, since the damage is done, I guess I might as well cum in you tomorrow morning too.”

That logic was hard to argue with.

I pressed myself a little deeper into you, smiling despite myself.

Consequences were for tomorrow.

Tonight was for sleep.

[nsemkekanews]

Irrationality of excessive exploitation of Azumah Resources: A case against unfair transactional value adjustments

Irrationality of excessive exploitation of Azumah Resources: A case against unfair transactional value adjustments In recent discussions surrounding the potential sale of Azumah Resources, a prominent gold exploration and mining company, a critical issue has emerged: the proposed demand for a change in the transactional value for the sale of 100% of Azumah Resources. This demand is based on…

[poetnamedesha]

What is the cost of a fake friendship? Some people don't want to see you happy. This is a poem about those people.

[mattsmemes]

[alunah-lalunah]

Love

Modern love is dependency baptized in sentiment. It confuses pleasure from others with increase in one’s own power. It is expecting love from others in places where I can give it to myself. Love is for people a transactional business. The love is the joy we feel when our power to act and think expands. To need love is to be weak. To recognize love as an effect of internal adequacy is freedom.

[pinkypoodle]

People on TikTok keep trying to say that sex in a relationship is transactional, like it’s some kind of payment for financial support. That mindset is honestly wild to me because intimacy in a healthy relationship comes from love, connection, and mutual desire; not obligation or compensation.

If you’re only having sex with your man because they give you money or gifts, then you’re not in a loving relationship. That’s financial dependence and you’re basically dating your pimp/trick, not your boyfriend or husband.

What’s even more annoying is that these same people try to project their experiences onto all women, claiming that being in a relationship makes you “sex work adjacent.” No, it doesn’t. Not everyone views love as a business transaction. Some of us actually value emotional connection over material gain. If you see relationships as nothing more than a trade off, just admit that’s how you operate and stop acting like it applies to everyone