norththelemon

[norththelemon]

someone make him stop

[norththelemon]

One year of these two!! Thanks for so much love💜

Paulo and Virginia by Alessandro Puttinati

But. It’s Pedro. (Shirted and unshirted for those of us who are delusional)

Please don’t repost without credit!!

Kofi | Shop | Twitter | ig

[norththelemon]

Repost since he just won best actor at Cannes 💞💘💕💖

Wagner Moura pencil drawing because I like his face. 🖤🤍

[norththelemon]

Thank you so so so much !!! 🌸💗

Got my print from @norththelemon all framed up. It looks so amazing honestly. Really love whatever paper was used for the print. It's lovely. And the work itself? The emotion, the weight, the framing with the branches and the flowers? Gorgeously done. There's a link to the shop under the cut. I'm really new to formatting and stuff on here. :)

[norththelemon]

Flower Joel

14x14 gouache on watercolor paper, some details finished in procreate.

A labor of love. I have special plans for him, fingers crossed they turn out alright. 💕🌸

(Please do not repost without credit)

Shop | ig | kofi

[norththelemon]

New tumblr Banner thought I’d share w you 💛💛 this is part of my weekly Tlou series happening on instagram #TLOUartSundays

They were so soft I needed to paint them😭

(Please don’t repost without credit, thank you!!)

IG | shop

[norththelemon]

I’ve made him available for pre-order for anyone who needs him!! It’ll be a pretty limited run. Thanks for the love!!! (My other contraband prints can be found at this link as well, maybe there’s something else you like even better! 💘)

Wip:)

[norththelemon]

He’s making the rounds on Pinterest and IG it seems. :)

Wip:)

[norththelemon]

Unspoken - A Joel Miller Drabble

Pairing: Joel Miller x reader Rating: M since we do face some mature themes here (mainly the general concept of death existing in the universe of TLOU). Nothing graphic, but still important to note. Word Count: 1087 a/n: Okay this came out way more angsty than I wanted it to, but this is for @softpascalito. <3

The trope was as old as time. Two people, one bed, no other options. And in most of the places you'd traveled across the country with Joel, that was the reality. You'd find yourself on an old, worn mattress just inches away from the man who had, more or less, become your entire life, carefully positioning yourself in a way that would be sure to keep you on your side of the bed until morning.

But tonight, of all nights, it seems you have the opposite problem.

"I'll take the bed by the door," he states. They're some of the first words he's said to you all day, probably because he knows what day it is. He always does. There's no space for arguing when he sets his backpack down on the mattress in question before sitting on the edge, knees cracking in the process.

You say nothing as you move past him, grateful to maintain the silence as you navigate toward the second bed. The motel had been a rare find, something you'd only been able to locate when a hoard of clickers had disrupted your path back from Lincoln. The two of you had checked the remaining rooms and eventually settled on this one, the only one with a full set of sheets still spread out on each bed, as though nothing had ever happened.

Not that it would help you sleep. You never did. Not today.

Usually, the second bed would feel like a luxury, but now it feels somewhat like a burden. One you won't share with him, not now, probably not ever. So instead, you let your own pack fall to the ground, your body collapsing against the soft fabric. A cloud of dust rises into the air, making you cough, but it settles back around you as you close your eyes, just for a moment.

"You should get some sleep," Joel notes from where he's still sitting. You know he hasn't moved, that he's still transfixed on the window, trying to figure out a way to better block the outside world from invading your newfound space the same way he'd pushed the desk up against the door. The way he'd been protecting you since the day he found you exactly four years ago.

Only, when you tilt your head in his direction and crack open your eyes, you find him watching you instead.

The lie spills easily from your lips, even if there's little use in saying it at all. He knows, but he won't argue. "I'm fine."

Joel frowns, but he doesn't say anything further. He just turns his gaze back to the window, not willing to push you because he wouldn't want you to push him either. It's the first of the unspoken rules that exist in the space between you. You won't ask him about his daughter, and he won't ask you about your fiancé.

"You could use some sleep, too," you remind him, because even if you know sleep won't take you, maybe it'll at least take him for a while.

You expect him to resist, especially today, but he doesn't. He simply pulls off his boots and moves to slip beneath the blankets covering his bed, turning away from you so his bad ear is the one pressed against the pillow. You mirror his motions, slipping off your worn shoes and settling against your own bed with your back against the headboard.

There's no need for you to keep watch, not when you're as secure as can be and you both still have your pistols well within reach. No one knows you're here, there's no electricity for lights even if you wanted them, and the entire building had been devoid of activity when you'd searched it, but still sleep doesn't come. Not when you let yourself rest your head against the pillow, not when you do your best to go through the alphabet of city names that used to exist, not even when you close your eyes and try to listen to the soft rhythm of Joel's breathing.

If he sleeps, that's your only sign. The gentle rise and fall of his breath, even and calming. A reminder that even when you've lost everyone else, he's still here. Even if, in this moment, you wish the second bed didn't exist. That you would be able to face him and trace the lines of his face as you fight off the exhaustion threatening to overtake you. Something like disappointment runs through your veins as you long for him to be closer. Closer would be enough.

And then, as though he can hear your silent plea, he moves.

There's a second unspoken agreement you'd come to some years ago, when on that first anniversary you'd woken screaming in the middle of the night. He'd held you tightly against him until you returned to reality. Not to sleep, reality, where he whispered quietly in your ear. You'd be afraid to sleep in the years that followed, able to seemingly block out the visions of someone you used to know necessarily at the other end of your own pistol every night except for one, but each time he'd encompass you. Just for the night, just while you needed him.

Even if you were afraid to admit that you needed him more often than not.

Now, as he maneuvers from his bed and dips a knee onto your mattress, tugging the blankets from your body so he can slip in beside you, there are no words. He simply draws you against him, warmth flooding your senses as he guides your head to his chest, his hand tangling itself in your hair as he brushes through the strands.

There's the ghost of his lips against the crown of your head when you let yourself relax against him, weaving your leg between his just before you allow the tears to spill from your eyes. They'll dampen his shirt, but he's never complained before and he won't complain now. It's here, after all, in the quiet of the night that his rough exterior falls away, allowing you and only you to witness what lies beneath.

"I'm here," he reminds you, as though now sleep will come.

It won't.

Not for you and probably not for him. Not tonight, anyway. And tomorrow, he'll rise with the sun and act as though nothing happened. Pretend that it wasn't his embrace that kept the demons away.

Only, you know as well as he does that it was.

[norththelemon]

Sorry guys, it was me, I kissed him.

Freshly smooched Joel Miller, my other valentines painting. 💋💋

(! Please don’t repost without credit or permission, thank you!!! ……. Also I do have prints of him and his kissed counterpart, javi p)

Shop | IG | twitter | kofi

[norththelemon]

Thank you Soooooo much I’m so relieved they finally made it home!!! 💜💜💙💙

my gorgeous gorgeous boys made it all the way to the UK at long last; @norththelemon your talent is incomparable and i’m eternally grateful that you use your skills for the greater good (feeding the pedro girlies) 💓

[norththelemon]

Ahhh Tysm!!! I love the frame for the sticker!! 💛☀️

Sometimes my friends send me gifts, and then those gifts go up on the gallery wall, even though they make my spouse go 🤔

Thank you, @march-flowerr (and @norththelemon). 💖

[norththelemon]

Thank you SO much !!!! 💕💕💕💕💕

y'all!! i ordered some stickers from @norththelemon 's shop the other day and they're BEAUTIFUL 😍😍

highly recommend getting some!

[norththelemon]

E L I S E this was CRAZY (I loved it deeply 💘💝💌)

Sleep - A Javier Peña Drabble

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader Rating: Explicit as heck. When isn't it with him? Unprotected p in v. Word Count: 1428 a/n: I blame @norththelemon for this. Or rather...I thank @norththelemon for this (and for that Valentine's Peña art).

"Javier, come to bed."

Your voice is nothing more than a soft whisper against his neck, your arms slung over his shoulders as you try to convince him to hang up the phone. He's been at it for hours, grumbling as he picks up the receiver, complaining when he finally puts it back down, no further than he was five hours before. You watched as he spent what felt like forever pinching the bridge of his nose, his shoulders tensing in a way that told you anger was simmering just beneath the surface. Emotions he often only kept in check because you were there to help smooth the edges.

And yet, he kept at it. The hours ticked by as you watched him work, the clock chiming when you rose to head to bed alone, pressing a kiss to the top of his head as you passed the folding table and spare dining room chair he'd set up in the corner of the apartment as a makeshift desk. It was only when you were sick of being unable to sleep without his arms wrapped around you that your feet carried you to where he was still sitting in front of the miscellaneous array of files he'd brought home to contemplate endlessly.

You missed him, that much was obvious, even if you knew why he had to focus.

But tonight, right now, you could feel the exhaustion in his stiff muscles as your fingers traced over his upper back. His whispered promises of "just a little longer" and "soon, Cariño" and "I'll be there in a minute" falling on deaf ears as you wrap your fingers around his to pull the receiver from his grasp, placing it back on the stand.

You wind your way around him, his hand still in yours as you bring his wrist to your lips, pressing against the pulse point on the inner side as you perch in his lap. The anxiety and frustration melt from his frame as you work your way up his arm and toward your final destination, your weight on his thighs serving as some kind of signal that runs straight to his brain.

And to his hardening length trapped between you.

"I'm almost done," he assures you, his actions telling a very different story as he pulls you closer, large hands guiding your hips against him as your lips return to the spot just beneath his ear. "Cariño?" he questions when you refuse to move, latching onto his skin instead.

You laugh lightly in the crook of his neck. "You said that last time," you whisper before returning to the task at hand, working at his skin until he lets his head fall back. The movement allows you to trail a bit lower, and you keep him in place as you etch a second mark that he's sure to wear proudly tomorrow.

"I mean it this time," he insists, although you can hear the smile in his voice, the telltale sign that what you're doing is working. He doesn't fight you as you ease his head to one side, granting you better access while his own fingers find their way beneath the edge of the button down you stole from his hamper and along the lace of your panties. The path to your center is a familiar trail for Javier, and when his touch finds the pool of wetness between your thighs you're helpless to do anything but squirm in his embrace.

"I doubt that," you return, pulling back to admire your work, the skin behind his ear already darkening. You meet his gaze, your breath heavy as he continues to swipe through your center.

You can't stop the whimper you make when he shifts you just enough to free his cock from the confines of his jeans, pulling you back against him so your thighs are spread wide around his hips. He guides you along his length under the thin layer of fabric that still separates you. "Is this why you wanted me to come to bed?" he breathes out, his own lips now working along your collarbone to brand you with a mark identical to the ones you left on him. "Couldn't sleep without coming?"

You know he won't believe you when you shake your head, but you do it anyway. "Wanted you to get some sleep." It's an honest answer, because after watching him pour over paperwork all day, you know he needs release more than you do, whether it's buried inside you or by giving into the exhaustion you can clearly see etched into the lines of his face.

Or, preferably, both.

Javi pinches your skin between his teeth, eliciting a cry when the sharp twinge of pain sends a new rush of arousal straight to where you're grinding against him. His breath is warm against your neck as he laughs, one of his hands sneaking between you again to shift the now ruined fabric to one side.

"Answer me," he demands, one finger slipping inside you briefly. "Do you need to feel my release dripping down your thighs to fall asleep?"

You nod quickly, any kind of coherent response escaping you as you use the last of your consciousness to lift yourself from his lap just far enough to catch his tip at your entrance. You arch against him when you sink down, wedging him deeper until you're flush against one another. "Fuck, Javier," you moan when he lifts you again, leading your hips to parallel the rough thrust of his own.

It's impossible to know when he managed to unbutton the shirt covering your torso, your own fingers struggling to undo the closures of the pink shirt over his own shoulders. You give up after just one because then you're distracted by the way he's buried his head between your breasts, nipping at the newly exposed skin in an attempt to force you higher. With how tightly he's holding you movement feels inconceivable, but he manages to rut into you regardless, his length pressing against your cervix.

"Come on, baby. Come for me so you can go to sleep," he encourages against your slick skin when you begin to clench around him.

It takes everything in you to fight off your climax with the hope that he'll follow you straight over the edge. "Need you to come back to bed, too," you moan.

Javier hears nothing of it, cutting you off with another pinch of your skin between his teeth. "I will, baby. Right after you come for me." He manages to lift you once, just enough so he can snap you back against him and hold you there. "Gonna make you come and then carry you to bed and fall asleep while I'm still buried inside you."

The thought is what forces you over the edge, your walls clenching around his cock as every muscle in your body tightens, head thrown back in a silent cry. He holds you up, hands warm against the bare skin of your back.

"That's it, baby. That's it," he mutters against you, talking you through it as he tries to work himself as deep as possible until he's spilling inside you with a grunt. He shudders beneath you when you collapse against him, lips pressing soft kisses to the expanse of his chest that you were able to expose earlier.

You still feel impossibly full with the way he's holding you, the old chair creaking beneath your combined weight. It's comfortable, wrapped in his embrace this way, and you're reluctant to move, even though you know you must. "Come to bed, Javier," you mutter, repeating your request from earlier.

He says nothing, and you're certain he's about to deny you again, but when you pull back you find him sitting with his eyes closed, a peaceful expression on his face for the first time in days.

"Javier?"

He hums, opening his tired eyes. "Yes, Cariño?"

"Bed," you order with a soft laugh, pushing back slightly damp curls to press a kiss to his forehead.

He doesn't argue further as you carefully free yourself from his grasp and guide him to the bedroom, ridding him of his clothes and letting the shirt fall from your shoulders to the floor. Javi lets out a heavy sigh the second his head hits the pillow, his hands tugging you against him.

"Sleep, love," you whisper against his skin, lips pressing soft kisses against each of the harsh marks you left on his neck before drifting off, secure in his embrace.

[norththelemon]

💝Happy Valentine’s Day! 💘

Javier Peña did NOT forget to call you today. He also swears he got all the lipstick off….

(Please don’t repost w/o credit or permission, thanks!!!💖)

IG | Shop | Kofi | Twitter

[norththelemon]

I know I’ve been a little radio silent and lurking around but I thought I’d show off my front room because I’m so proud of it. I finally got motivated to paint it and make it more my own. My husband helped a lot with the bookshelves (I built the spinning one on the front left).

My wall with art and my Death Midwifery certificate is also finally done. Much love to @norththelemon ‘s beautiful art I knew I had to include. ❤️

The Libra poster is from 13th Press & artist Amrit S. Brar

The Mandalorian comic is by artist is Rickie Yagawa

[norththelemon]

Mini Prints came today and I think they turned out adorable ! In case you needed any contraband in lil 3.5” x 5”s😌

Sketchy I abandoned lol 🖤💜

—

ig | shop | kofi