#i feel like i am pretty proud of it tbh

[from-the-clouds]

texas sun - joel miller x f!reader - vol. xiv

series masterlist | series playlist | writing masterlist | previous chapter | chapter summary: The final chapter pairing: joel miller x f!reader words: 9.2k (I love being insane) chapter warnings: SMUT (18+only) - unprotected sex. Insecurity/Jealousy. Angst/arguments. Discussions of death, blood and injuries. Alcohol & Marijuana use. Fluff. Bisexual reader (happy pride ya'll!). As always please dm for more specifics. a/n: This could probs use another round of proofreading but it would've delayed this even longer sooooo.... Here we go! I feel pretty emo right now and I might make a more in-depth post about my thoughts at a later date bc I just finished writing this in a hot daze so I can't put all my thoughts coherently together. But I just wanna say thank you to everyone who supported and gave love to this story. This is by far the most popular fic I've ever written, and I don't really know how? Or what I did to deserve all the love but I just want you to know how much I appreciate it. Thank you for sticking with me through all the angst and delayed updates and everything. I'll never forget you and I'll never forget Joel x Reader!! Thank you so much, I hope the finale lives up to your expectations! ❤️

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I’m not the kind of man who tends to socialize I seem to lean on old familiar ways….

-May 16, 2024-

“Are you sure you’re okay if I leave you here alone?” 

Ethan’s voice jolts you out of a daze, and you blink your eyes open, realizing that you’d dozed off while sitting upright in a patio chair, the cheesy romance novel you’d been reading still lying open on your lap. Turning to look over your shoulder, you find him standing with one foot on the deck, and one foot still inside, cut in half by the sliding glass door.

Clearing your throat, you straighten up and nod. “Of course. I’ll be fine.”

Ethan studies you carefully, like he’s not entirely convinced. He’s been hesitant to leave you alone unless it’s absolutely necessary – only stepping away from the house to go on patrol shifts and to bring home meals from the mess hall. Recovery has made you feel like a burden to him – to all your friends in the community, really. Everyone….well, almost everyone, has been supportive, but you’ve never been comfortable being openly vulnerable.

Unfortunately, it’s too hard to deny the pain that you’ve been in since the accident, the trouble you have getting around, the exhaustion that clings no matter how many long naps and twelve-hour nights of sleep you get. According to the doctors, being so tired is just part of recovery – rest is important, but the concoction of pain medication you’ve been prescribed only makes your drowsiness and confusion worse. It had been a big deal that tonight you’d mustered the energy to drag yourself outside to sit in the fresh air. 

“I’m fine,” you assure Ethan, once again. “Have fun on your date.”

“It’s not really a date,” he says, almost a little too quickly. “We’re just hanging out.”

“Right,” you say, matter-of-factly. “Do I know who this person is?”

Ethan looks at his feet. “You remember the day this shit happened?” he asks, gesturing towards you. “Before you left on patrol, the girl that said hi to me? It’s her. Her name is Alex.”

“Oh?” you tilt your head, give him a small smile. “She was cute. How’d you ask her out?”

“Well,” he begins, scratching the back of his neck. “I may have…uh, gotten some advice.”

“You didn’t think to ask me?” you’re able to muster up a small smile.

“I would’ve, I just…..” he shakes his head. “It seemed stupid…with everything you have going on.”

“It’s not stupid,” you say, feeling a wave of guilt. Even though he’s the one looking after you, you haven’t spoken to him much about anything going on in his life. In fact, you haven’t really spoken to anyone in a long time, beyond thank you’s and blanket statements like I’m doing better. You feel disconnected, and more lonely than ever. If you ever get enough energy to leave your house, you expect most of the people in the community to have forgotten you exist. “Who’d you ask?”

“Uhm….” Ethan runs a hand through his long dark hair, shifts his weight. “….I’ve been assigned on patrol with Joel Miller a lot lately….so….”

You almost laugh when he uses Joel’s full name. Joel has been such a huge part of your life – sometimes the hero, sometimes the villain – that you don’t need to hear his last name to know who Ethan’s talking about. You could know a thousand Joel’s, and he’d still be the first person that came to mind. But Joel is still a sore subject, and Ethan knows it, which is why you suspect he’s avoided telling you this in the first place. You feel your eyebrows knit together, only able to let out an unenthused. “Oh.”

“I just, you know….he’s a guy. And it sounds like you even liked him at one point so….he must know something, right?” 

“That was a long time ago,” you say quickly, regardless of the fact that he’s right.

It’s probably not fair to blame Joel for everything that has happened to you. You know this, deep down. But you’ve been so helpless and isolated since you’ve woken up in that hospital bed that you’re desperate to find someone to hold accountable. And Joel hadn’t visited you in the hospital once. By this point, he’s abandoned you so many times that your resentment feels justified, even if your current state is not directly his fault. Because it was you, after all, who had walked into the path of those men, too angry to think clearly, too weak to take them down alone. The only person you can blame is yourself, and you really don’t want to.

“Did he tell you to take her out on patrol, make her cry, and almost get her killed?”

Ethan clicks his tongue, looks down, almost ashamed. “No. He did not.”

“You should be careful with Joel,” you warn.

“I was…” Ethan says. “But I don’t think it’s that simple. I think he’s actually alright.” 

“So you’re friends with him now,” you state, hoping he refutes. But instead, he looks up at you, frowns, and lifts his chin.

“What happened to you was horrible. It shouldn’t have happened. And yeah, maybe you think he’s the reason you almost died…. I don’t know the specifics so you can believe whatever you want. But I know that he’s the reason you’re still alive.” Ethan’s voice breaks, and you feel tears brimming your eyes before he continues. “He brought you back here, he donated his blood, he-”

“What?” you cut him off.

“What do you mean, what?” Ethan asks. “He was the only person there who had your blood type. You would’ve died if he didn’t. They didn’t tell you this?” 

“Whatever it took to make him feel less guilty, sounds like,” you say, dismissively.

Something hot burns in your veins, something that must have always been there since you woke up, but you’re only feeling it now. It’s unsettling, Joel being a part of you that way. Your lives had already seemed intertwined enough already. But now, he’s inescapable.

“Well, he stayed by your side every night while you were asleep. Fuck, I mean, he was probably there just as often as I was. He made sure I ate, and slept and showered and… and he never once asked for anything in return. He cares about you as much as I do, clearly, so I don’t think it’s wrong to think he’s a good guy….”

You must not care about me that much, you want to say, but you stop yourself. Because it’s not true, and you’d only be saying it to hurt him. You have nothing to defend yourself with, no way to convince him otherwise, and so you just stare at him until he shakes his head and slips back inside.

Ethan is stubborn, he always has been. And it’s a special kind of stubbornness, fueled by anger – so common in most of the young people you meet these days. You understand why they’re all like this. When you’re robbed of your childhood – you get stuck there….waiting….. Like someday you’ll have a chance to do it all over again, regardless of how obvious it is that you won’t. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

-May 25, 2024-

Things get better, albeit slowly. You begin to wean off the pain medication, which makes you more alert. It’s still difficult to leave your house, but you can move around it more easily, and you don’t spend all your days sleeping. Luckily, you aren’t as stir-crazy as you’d been expecting. 

One afternoon, Ellie Williams shows up on your doorstep with a bag full of groceries. 

“Maria wanted me to bring these to you,” she says when you open the door. “She told me to tell you she’ll be over tomorrow, but she wanted me to give you these to tide you over.”

“That’s very nice. Thank you for bringing them to me,” you try to take the bag from her hands, but she steps back just a little, like she’s unsure if you should be carrying anything. You let your hands drop to your sides. “Would you like to come in?” 

Ellie hesitates for a split second, adjusting the bag in her arms, and then nods. “Sure.” 

Stepping to the side, you allow her into the home. Because of how warm it is outside, you’ve opened all the windows to let the breeze through. 

“Sorry for the mess,” you say, Ellie following you into the living room. There are stacks of books and pill bottles with instructions scattered on your countertop. You haven’t swept the floors in awhile and all the hard surfaces are covered in a thin layer of dust. It’s not really that bad, but you don’t have the energy or strength to be on your feet for long – let alone to clean the house. 

“I don’t mind,” Ellie says. “It’s not even that bad. I don’t know why older people worry about leaving your house messy and shit….no offense.”

“There was a time it used to matter,” you tell her. “And I see where you’re coming from, but my thing is – if you’re going to live somewhere, you should do what you can to make yourself feel comfortable.” 

Ellie purses her lips, as if you’ve made a good point but she doesn’t know how to answer. Instead, you continue. “Can I get you anything? Water?” 

“No, I’m okay,” she puts the bag on your kitchen counter.

“You can sit if you’d like,” you tell her. “I just need a moment to put these away.”

When you walk into your living room a few minutes later, she’s hovering near your record player, looking through the vinyls. The turntable was already in the house when you’d arrived years ago, but it was buried in the closet and broken. Ethan had managed to fix it after a little troubleshooting and scavenging for parts. Now, you both were always looking for records to bring home, and had amassed quite the eclectic collection – jazz, funk, hip-hop, and everything in between. 

“Wow,” Ellie says, running her fingers along the shelved records. “You found all these?”

“Some of them were already here. But yeah. Ethan and I are always on the lookout on patrol. I can play you something. What do you like?”

“Eighties, I think,” she says. “But…I also haven’t heard as much.” 

“Well here,” you thumb through the records, pull out a worn copy of Speaking In Tongues. “How about some Talking Heads?” 

You pass the record over to her, and she stares at you blankly. It’s only then that you realize — she’s never used a record player before. There’s a familiar pang of sadness before you show her how. 

“Are you feeling better?” Ellie eyes you wearily once the music starts, and you settle onto the couch, feeling a little worn out after being on your feet.

“Yes,” you say. “I’m older now, so it seems like healing takes a lot more time.”

Ellie nods, then bobs her head to the music a little. “This is better than most of the stuff Joel likes.” 

“Oh yeah,” you smirk, and instinctually, you recall his enthusiasm for all things old-school country. “I remember that,” you say softly.

With so much time on your hands lately, you’ve found yourself thinking of Joel a lot, reminiscing on the time you’d spent with him and Sarah. What Ethan had told you about him staying by your side was definitely making you reconsider your assessment of him, even if you were still hesitant. It was probably a trap to think you’d ever be able to feel those things with him again, but if remembering them brought you comfort, you weren’t going to resist it. 

“You’re more than welcome to come over to listen anytime,” you offer, and she nods excitedly. 

Ellie stays for longer than you expect. You talk a fair bit. She tells you about what she’s learning in school – but mostly how ‘fucking useless’ it is. She wanders around your living room and pokes through your stuff without asking, but you don’t think to stop her – you just answer her questions and let her be curious.

Eventually, the sun dips below the horizon, and she excuses herself to go home, insisting that Joel will ‘fucking kill her’ if she’s out too late. Even though you’re exhausted after entertaining her for a few hours, you find it feels nice. Being on house arrest, essentially, had left your starved for connection outside Maria and Ethan.

You see her out the door before returning to your refrigerator to look for something to eat. Ethan will be back from patrol any minute, so it may be nice to make him something even if you have almost no energy.

But when there’s another knock on your front door, you’re shocked to see who you find staring on your porch. 

Joel.

You almost forget to speak at the sight of him. It’s been weeks since your accident and he might as well have moved away from Jackson since you hadn’t seen him at all. 

“Hey,” you say, tentatively, taking him in. He seems preoccupied – cheeks flushed, hair rumpled, and out of breath, like he had run all the way to get here.

“Have you seen Ellie?” he asks, not even greeting you in return. “I’ve looked everywhere and I-

“You just missed her,” you cut him off, not because you’re trying to dismiss him, but because he's clearly distressed. “I’m surprised you didn’t see her on your way over.”

Joel sighs, eyes closing in relief. “Thank God.” For a second, you glimpse the frazzled and overworked father you used to know. “She stayed out too late, had me worried sick.” 

“She’s fine,” you say. “Although she did say you might kill her if she didn’t get home soon.” 

Joel gives you an almost imperceptible smile, but seems mostly irritated by Ellie’s suggestion. “I would do no such thing.” He shakes his head and takes two steps backwards. “Thank you. Didn’t mean to be a bother.” 

Your mind floats to a memory of Joel on your front porch, late getting home from work and looking for Sarah, and you can’t help but feel a bit of sadness and longing for a simpler time, a surge of affection. 

Joel is halfway down your front porch steps when you speak again. “You aren’t bothering me.”

He pauses, turns to look over his shoulder. There’s something he wants to say, you can feel it, and you step outside, letting the door fall shut behind you and remaining huddled against the siding, and he turns to face you fully, sighing. “I’ve been meaning to stop by, actually….” 

“Oh…really?” you can’t keep the surprise from your voice, and he notices.

“Yeah,” Joel rubs his fingers together, a nervous habit of his you know all too well. “Yeah. I- well, I wanted to apologize to you.”

You’re so startled by the words you can’t answer right away. But the split second of hesitation causes Joel to continue, looking to fill the empty space. 

“I’ve been waiting to find the right thing to say….but it doesn’t seem like that’ll ever happen. I’m not even sure I know where to start.” 

“Oh,” is all you can manage, still taken aback. The only thing that doesn’t surprise you about his admission is the sincerity. You could say a lot of things about Joel, but he isn’t a liar. He always tells the truth. Maybe it’s why he pulled away from you to begin with. It’s easier than the alternative – spending time with you, which would force him to be honest. For how much you’ve changed, you’d probably do the same. 

But the thing with Joel is that you’re exhausted. You’re tired of the back and forth, of the push and pull, of the constant struggle to hold your care over each other's head, hoping the other will break first. Maybe this is a fresh start. 

You step closer to him, and you see him study the way you move. Of course, you’re trying to look strong, but he can surely sense the weakness. He’d always been good at that, better than any of the others. Your hand comes to rest on the porch railing for support. 

But…..

There’s that voice in the back of your head, the one that tells you this is a mistake. The one that reminds of the pain you’ve often earned through vulnerability. It likes to think it’s served you, protected you, and it has. But it’s not always right.

“I suppose I owe you an apology, too,” you say. “At the very least I should thank you for what you did.”

Joel shakes his head, dismissively, but looks to where your hand rests on the porch railing, looks back up to you as he reaches out. “I’m just glad you’re okay.” 

His hand clasps over yours, and to anyone else, this might be nothing. It’s so innocent, unassuming. But the effect it has on you is palpable. He squeezes once, and you flip your hand over, squeezing his back, giving him a gentle smile. “I am too.” 

Joel’s eyes fill with a warmth you haven’t seen in twenty years, and your stomach flutters, your heart races. A part of yourself that you’d considered long dead seems to rouse.“Would you like to stay for dinner?”

“I told Ellie we’d go to the mess hall together,” Joel says. “Otherwise I would.”

You blink once, and Joel sees it, immediately continuing on. “But maybe Ellie and I can come another time, join you and Ethan?”

“Yeah. He’d like that,” you say. “That might be nice.” ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

-June 20, 2024-

You think that at the end of a long winter, bears must hate coming out of hibernation. 

It must suck. They spend months sleeping, doing almost nothing, and then suddenly they’re forced to function again – to hunt, to eat, to roam, to survive and socialize. You imagine there has to be a learning curve, a desire to crawl back into their den and never leave again. 

Or maybe you could be wrong, and they love it. And you’re just a wimp who hates feeling uncomfortable.

All you know is that you’re huddled in the back corner of the Tipsy Bison, nursing a whiskey – and it’s the last place you want to be. 

You’re overwhelmed. 

And despite the fact that you regularly used to attend community events, it’s been so long since you've been out in Jackson that you feel like you don’t belong. To some extent, you’ve always felt this – too hardened by the outside world to fully assimilate, especially when the town throws dances. But in the past, you at least attempted to convince yourself otherwise. 

Two weeks back, the doctors had cleared you to go about your daily activities as normal  – within reason, of course – but you hadn’t exactly jumped at the opportunity. Tonight, Ethan had accused you of becoming ‘antisocial’ and ‘reclusive’. You had agreed to attend – but only to beat those allegations. So far, you are definitely not. 

You scan the crowd, taking in the people spinning around the dance floor. Some of the women are wearing dresses. You can’t help but feel a little envious of how easily they’re able to perform femininity, which is something you’d given up on a while ago. It hadn’t exactly served you before arriving in Jackson, and you predict it would be humiliating to start trying now. After all the things you’d experienced, you were left marred with scars and wrinkles, stretch marks and loose skin. Since then, you’ve remained loyal to the combination of men’s denim and tank tops with flannel-button downs overtop. 

It doesn’t always stop the men in the community from descending like vultures. You might be the last pick – there are plenty others who are younger and prettier – but you’re still an option. Bea, your old partner, had always theorized that some men were particularly drawn to sapphic women, that it was ‘the ultimate challenge’. Maybe there is some truth to her theory, but you like men….sometimes. So there is always a part of you that yearns for their validation, for as many times as you tell yourself you don’t want it. But it never feels good to get it after you’ve watched them exhaust all their other options.

It’s pathetic, but it makes you think of Joel. He and Ellie had been over to yours and Ethans last week for a nice dinner, and you had tried to gauge whether there was any romantic connection between you still. Occasionally, you’d caught him looking at you with a wistful smile, but he could have been lost in thought. It’s not like you needed that from him or anything, but it might be useful information. After all this time, Joel is still so handsome, and probably has an impressive selection of potential partners here in Jackson – women of all ages. You hope he’s not here tonight – you can’t see much besides the dance floor at this point – because the thought of him cozied up to anyone here, combined with the acrid taste of the drink in your hand, makes you want to gag. 

You take another look around the room. Eugene, your partner in crime – quite literally – is walking towards you, which helps quell your spiraling mind . If you talk to him, say hello to Tommy and Maria, maybe Ethan will see the effort you’re making and you can sneak out without having to deal with anyone. It’s wishful thinking, but it’s worth a shot. The sooner you can get home tonight, the better.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Joel can’t stop staring. 

He knows it’s impolite. He knows that he’s not being subtle. He knows that if any other person in this bar followed his eyeline, they’d pick up on what he was doing in an instant. But every minute he doesn’t get called out for it, he becomes more and more emboldened. 

It’s the first dance he’s ever been to in Jackson, and the only reason he’s here is to placate Ellie and Tommy. But even they have abandoned him in favor of better companions – his brother is deep in conversation with Maria, sitting across from him in a booth, and Ellie is out on the dance floor dancing with one of her new friends, Dina.

Joel just can’t help himself. He still feels guilty for what he’s done, but he can’t shake the feeling of a soft hand clasped within his own – the first time he’d felt any semblance of hope since arriving here. Tommy and Maria had already slyly let him know about all the women who were interested, but he couldn’t bring himself to entertain their advances. There’s only one he wants, and she won’t even look in his direction.

When he’d first noticed you, you were whispering with Eugene on the opposite side of the dance floor. According to Tommy, you spend a fair bit of your time with the old man, which Joel initially thought to mean that you had some sort of entanglement. At first, Joel thought that couldn’t be possible. But you were deep in focus as you listened to Eugene’s words, nodding and leaning in closer and closer, and Joel thinks Tommy might be right. He wants to understand what you see in this man – tall and unkempt, covered in tattoos with long, graying hair and a beard to match. But Joel catches himself in his judgment, he’s probably just as unappealing – not just because of how he’s aged, but because of how horrible he’s been to you in general. 

The next time Joel sees you, you’re at the bar, chatting with a man who Maria had introduced him to not long ago, a resident who is new in town. Joel had been too busy focusing on the fact that he’d been in Jackson long enough to not be its newest resident that he couldn’t remember his name. He wishes he had, so he could keep tabs on him. Of course, he can’t blame the man for being drawn to you – Joel knows very well that you’re hard to miss in a crowd. 

Still, Joel bristles when you both step away from the bar, and the man’s hand lands just above your sacrum. He actually finds himself tensing up, resisting the urge to intervene, because it’d likely only make you angry. Plus, maybe you are interested. That question is answered quickly when you reach behind your to clasp the man's hand and place it back at his side. Where it belongs, he thinks.

“Joel!”

He snaps his attention to what’s in front of him – interrupted, and probably for good measure, lest he get himself too worked up. Ethan approaches with a girl his age, her arm linked through his. Joel stands to greet them. 

The terse understanding between himself and Ethan while you were still in the hospital had somehow turned into a friendship, especially after they’d begun getting paired up on patrol. Ethan reaches out for Joel’s hand to dap him up, slinging an arm briefly over his shoulder.

“How’s it going, kid?” 

“Good, good,” Ethan nods, pulling back, and gestures to the girl next to him. “Joel, this is Alex.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” she says. “Ethan’s told me all about you.” 

“Really?” Joel asks, feeling a little bewildered. 

“Only good things,” Alex says quickly, as if she senses his apprehension. Ethan puts his arm around her waist. Joel recalls a few weeks back when he’d asked for advice on how to ask out a girl. Joel hadn’t pried at the time, but now he seems to understand, and is surprised by the swell of pride he feels. “Ethan says you’re a fucking badass,”she giggles after she swears.

Joel looks over at Ethan. “I don’t know about that.” 

He shrugs, changes the subject. “Since when do you come to these things?” Ethan asks.

“Ellie dragged me out,” Joel answers.

“I did the same with my aunt,” Ethan chuckles. “But now I can’t find her, and I’m pretty sure she’s escaped.”

“Oh, is she here?” Joel plays dumb, like he hasn’t been aware of exactly where you have been all night. “I haven’t seen her.”

“I think she was with Eugene earlier,” Alex has to stand on her toes to speak into Ethan’s ear. Joel watches Ethan’s nose wrinkle. 

“Do you know Eugene at all?” Ethan turns to Joel. “I’m trying to figure out what’s going on there, but she won’t say anything.” 

Joel wishes that he had more information. “Tommy says they seem close.”

“I know that,” Ethan says. “I wish she would just be honest with me. It’s not like I would be mad. Whatever,” he shakes his head. “We can talk about it another time. I just want to find her so I can introduce her to Alex.”

“We should say hi to Tommy and Maria first,” Alex says, and Ethan nods in agreement before saying goodbye to him. Joel claps a hand on Ethan’s shoulder as he moves past him, and Alex gives him a shy smile in acknowledgement. 

Focusing back on the crowd, Joel realizes that you’ve vanished in the short span of his last interaction. Maybe you’d rejected that guy, and then he’d retaliated. Maybe you’d gone home with Eugene. Joel shakes his hand. It’s none of his business. He doesn’t need to get involved. It’s not his job to look after you, regardless of how much better he feels when he does. Old instincts. He can’t help himself.

He settles on watching Ellie and Dina spin each other around on the dance floor. Eventually, Tommy and Maria, then Ethan and Alex all trickle out of the booth to go get another round or head to dance. Joel stands to release the booth to someone who actually needs it – and is left in the corner, nursing a nearly empty beer that’s now flat and warm. He looks towards his family and friends, but for some reason, he still feels alone. 

Joel isn’t sure how long he stands sulking, but he starts when someone approaches from behind.

“Having fun?”

You’re a pace or two back, one thumb hooked through a belt loop, a whiskey in your opposite hand. Joel looks back at the crowd a moment, then at the ground. “No.” 

“Neither am I,” you commiserate, stepping alongside him. 

Joel considers offering that Ethan was looking for you, but selfishly does not want to give you a reason to leave, so he stays quiet. You observe the dance floor like he is, smiling slightly at the sight of Ethan and Alex dancing. The flannel you’re wearing over a gray tank hangs loosely off one shoulder, and Joel wants to reach out and touch the exposed skin. You take your last sip of whiskey, bring a finger to swipe under your bottom lip, and Joel wishes he knew what you might taste like right now. He scolds himself for fantasizing.

You don’t speak either, and you stand in silence for a while, until you eventually pop your hip, shifting closer to him. Maybe you don’t realize it, but you’re already standing so close that your arm gets pressed up against his. Neither of you acknowledge the contact, but Joel is acutely aware of how your skin burns hot against his own. He feels comforted by the affection, even if it’s unintentional.

“Want to leave?” Joel asks, and can hardly believe that the words came out of his mouth, even if he wanted them to. 

You look over at him, not bothering to hide your surprise, but your expression evens out quickly, and you give him a single nod. “Yeah.” 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Joel’s still not convinced this is real. It feels too much like a dream, the weather outside is so pleasantly warm it feels like he’s floating as you walk down the street. He had never expected you to agree to leave with him, and now he doesn’t know what to do, or what to say.

The greater distance you put between yourselves and the bar, the quieter the town is. Most of Jackson’s residents are at the dance, save for the guards at the front gate and the handful of people that had been mingling just outside.

He heads in the general direction of the neighborhood, even though he lives on a different street. 

“What are we supposed to do now?” you wonder out loud, and you sound a little incredulous, like you’re equally as shocked to find yourself beside him. The question carries a bit more weight than it would have coming from anyone else.

Joel contemplates. He’s not sure what he wants from you – there are a lot of things, actually – but he doesn’t know if he really deserves any of them. For now, your companionship is more than enough.

“You’re welcome to come back to mine,” he offers.  “But if you’re looking to keep drinking, all the booze is back at the bar.”

“I’m good.” You shake your head like you’re uninterested, but look over at him with a sparkle in your eye. “I have something better….” 

You reach into the pocket of your flannel and produce a rolled joint between two fingers, looking over your shoulder. “Those dances are usually terrible, so I always come prepared.” 

Joel can’t help the chuckle that escapes him, and the sheepish grin he gets in return makes his cheeks feel warm. “Where’d you even get that?”

“You’ve never been on patrol with Eugene, have you?” you ask. “He has a place just out of town where he grows it. I’ve been helping him since we first got paired up, and in exchange, I get to sample the supply.”  

Of course. Joel would’ve never imagined that was the reason you were so close with Eugene, but it suddenly makes incredible sense. He shakes his head in a combination of relief and amusement. “You really haven’t changed.” 

“Oh, I’m sure I have,” you answer, smiling to yourself and looking at the ground. “But of course I haven’t shaken all my bad habits.”

“That’s not true,” Joel mutters.

“Well, you haven’t changed either, for as much as you’ve tried to convince me,” you nudge him gently, offering him the joint. “What do you think?” 

Joel plucks it from between your fingers and puts it between his lips. “I think I have a lighter at home.”

“Sounds perfect.” 

In the front hallway of his house, you slip out of your tennis shoes, shuffling behind him in your socks, pausing occasionally to study some of the doodles that Ellie had drawn and hung on the walls – it wasn’t exactly a priority to decorate these days, but they certainly livened up the place. He knows how much Ellie likes you, despite the fact that she doesn’t gush, but the odd comment here and there says as much. Joel remembers how difficult it had been to keep Sarah away, and Ellie now is no different. He doesn’t seem to be able to help himself, either. 

You sit next to Joel on his wicker couch, curling your feet up under you as he lights the joint and study him while he takes the first few puffs. He does it without thinking. That’s how soft Jackson has made him. Normally, he’d be too stressed about being out of his wits. But he can’t see how hypervigilance has served him since settling down. He feels safe here, and somehow especially because he’s with you. 

When he passes the joint your way, you look at him wistfully. “Old times,” you say with a grin. 

Joel nods as he exhales, coughing. “Old times.” 

“Oh yeah,” you say, as if you just remembered something. “You can’t tell Ethan about this. He doesn’t know, and he will give me shit about it. I need him to take me seriously.” 

Joel shakes his head. “Well, you know, it sounds like he and Tommy both think you and Eugene are together.”

“What?” your head jerks forward in shock, eyes going wide. “Oh my god, no. Do people think that?”

“I’m just sayin’,” Joel wants to mention how he had seen you whispering to each other at the bar earlier, but then realizes it’d give a bit too much away. “That’s what they think.”

“Well....historically speaking I might’ve liked older men…. but not that old.”

Joel purses his lips. “You’ve lived here awhile, huh?” When you nod, he continues. “Has no one caught your eye?” 

“Uhm….not really. But….” you trail off, looking into Joel’s backyard. “To be completely honest, I  don't think about that much these days. I guess I feel like I have a lot to be grateful for. I don’t want to push it.”

Joel understands, and nods pensively.

“What about you?” you ask. 

“I guess I feel the same.”

That causes you to smile a little bit, look over at him. “I bet you already know this. But the women here would line up down the block for you.”

Joel can’t help but roll his eyes, though he wonders if you would, too. Even if you did like him, that didn’t seem like your style. 

“I’m serious. I’ve heard the things they whisper behind your back. All their fantasies about you are pretty creative...”

“Fantasies?” He grimaces. He imagines none of them know anything about who he really is. You’re the closest thing, and all he’s done is hurt you. “I’m sure you were quick to set them straight.” 

“I don’t say anything,” you say, then continue on, a little quieter, looking at him from under your lashes. “I like to keep you to myself.” 

Joel isn’t sure how to respond to that. You have every right to tell all of them that you were once together, and all the ways he’s hurt you since. Yet for some reason, you’ve chosen to protect him. 

“So….all this time….” you wonder. “You had to have been with other people, right?”

Joel doesn’t think to hold back. “I had a partner for a long time. Tess. First, it was all business, I helped her smuggle things in and out of the Boston QZ…and then, I don’t know….we got along, we trusted each other and…” Joel trails off, hoping you’d put together the rest before he has to go into too much detail. “She was real fuckin’ tough. Scared me a little at first. You would’ve liked her.”

“Well, we already have one thing in common. What happened?”

“She’s the whole reason I ended up out here….with Ellie,” Joel explains. “But I lost her a little over a year ago.”

He hopes you don’t ask how. Maybe someday he’d be willing to go into detail, but talking about it generally is hard enough as it is. But fortunately, you seem to pick up on his hesitance. “I’m sorry, Joel,” you say softly.

He shakes his head. “I was an asshole. To her. I should've....after Sarah died I didn’t want to get attached, so I kept her at arms length and I... I wished I hadn’t in the end. It only made things worse.”

“Yeah,” you nod, look down. “I’ve made that mistake before.”

Joel doesn’t want to linger any longer on the memory. “What about you? Were you with anyone?”

“Uhm, yeah,” you fidget, looking uncomfortable. “I had a partner….for like ten years."

Ten years? He had been with Tess for more, but something about that information feels jarring. He’s shocked Tommy never told him this. Did Tommy even know? Suddenly, it dawns on Joel everything that could’ve happened to you since you’ve been apart. Entire lifetimes. And he’d said such horrible things when you’d fought. He remembers your face when he’d told you that you didn’t know what it was like to lose a child. Maybe you had. He’d been so cruel and inconsiderate just because he was uncomfortable. 

His throat feels tight, almost scared to learn anymore. “What…what was his name?”

“Well, Bea….was her name.” 

Joel is sure he doesn't hide the shock well. “Sorry, I didn’t know…”

“Yeah,” you say. “I don’t think I did either. Well, I sort of did, but I was too young I think when I first realized to make any sense of it, but…. I met her and…yeah,” then, you smirk. “I mean, I went to an all-girls school and I had a really bad relationship with my dad so…it definitely makes sense. ” 

Joel considers this, smiles along with you. “But anyways. Her and I met shortly after my brother died and it was kind of the same. We kept each other alive, things developed from there. We ended up getting involved with this group who lived in the middle of nowhere. That’s a whole other story, but…” you wave your hand. “I loved her, and I lost her right before Ethan and I got here.” 

Joel sees all the pain in your eyes, and wishes he could say something to take it all away. He knows he can’t. You look back out into the woods in his backyard, take a deep breath, and reach back towards the joint that you had put out not long before, lighting it again. Joel gets the sense that both of you had done the most amount of sharing possible for the time being. 

“Look at us,” you take another drag before passing it over. “Old times.”

“Old times,” he repeats, a smile working its way onto his face. 

“This used to be my favorite thing to do with you.” 

“It was nice,” Joel agrees….hesitates before continuing. “But I can think of some things I liked better.” He gives you a knowing look, and you roll your eyes, laughing easily at his joke. It feels so good to make you laugh, to see you smile. Why had he spent so much time resisting?

“Touche.” 

What happens next spills out of Joel so quickly he doesn’t think to stop it. “I tried to look for you….after all this happened. I didn’t have Sarah anymore, and I thought maybe….I don’t know. It was the only thing that kept me going for a while.”

“I did too,” you confess. “But…I was with Vincent and Ethan, and I felt like I couldn’t leave them alone for something that might just be…. I always hoped you both made it. And I’m so sorry she’s gone. I really did love her.” 

“I know you did,” Joel reaches out to take your hand. “I know. And I shouldn’t have said those things I did. I’m still not sure why you’ve been so patient with me.”

“Hmm,” you shift so that you’re closer to him. “You waited around for me back then. It’s only fair that I’d wait around for you now. I want you in my life. I don’t care what that looks like. But it’s too hard to forget about a person that you loved.” 

Joel wants as much from you as you’re willing to give, and he can’t tear his gaze away from you. But he wants you to see him, all of him, before he takes it. 

“I’ve let a lot of people down. I’ve done a lot of h-horrible things,” his voice cracks, and tears well in his eyes. 

“I have, too, you know? Those things still live with me. But I think what matters is who we are now,” you reach out, fingertips brushing the scar on his temple, and Joel swears that even if you don’t know the story behind it, you can see right through him. “And I know who you are.” 

“I don’t want to hurt you anymore than I already have.” 

“You won’t,” you say. “No more than anyone else has. And if it makes you feel better…when people hurt me, I’ve gotten pretty good at hurting them back.” 

“If I do, I’d hope you would.”

“I will. I promise,” your thumb strokes his cheek, marveling at him. “I would suggest a blood oath or something but….I heard we kind of already did that…”

He’s given you every warning, every barrier, and you’re still here. He can’t believe it, and he doesn’t think he can hold back any longer. “Come here.”

He kisses you. He wishes that he could be slow and tender and gentle like he used to be – and certainly he’s still capable, but he realizes that he’s been depriving himself of something he wanted for so long, and can’t seem to control himself. 

Your hands land on the side of his face, and he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you onto his lap. Maybe you’re somewhat taken aback by his urgency, you hum against his lips, but you don’t resist at all. Joel maneuvers you so you’re straddling his thighs, and he grips your hips, your ass, coasts his hands up your side. Your lips part in a moan, and he slips his tongue into your mouth. 

For a while, he stays there, savors the taste of you, whiskey and smoke still lingering on your lips. His hands cup your jaw, feel your body, grip and squeeze and stroke and you let him, continue to let him. He tries everything, wondering if you’ll tell him to stop, if you’ll decide you’ve had too much, but you don’t. Then again, he should know by now that you’re a woman who knows what she wants. He just finds it’s hard to believe that he’s the thing you want.

You break away from him, just a little, and Joel presses his nose to your neck, kisses your pulse point. 

“Should we go upstairs?” your voice is raspy and breathless. “Will Ellie be home soon?” 

“Probably not for a while. We can be quick.”

“Hopefully not too quick,” you raise your eyebrows. Joel can’t help but laugh a little. He relishes in the way your hands rake up and down his arms, exploring him, touching him. Of course he wants you, but even just this would be enough. He’d be content with less, he hadn’t realized how starved of affection he’d been.

You’re able to pry yourselves off one another to make it up the stairs, and Joel guides you with a hand to the small of your back. When you get to his bedroom, he opens the door, but stops you before you go inside. 

“Hold on,” Joel mutters, winding one arm around your waist, the other behind your knee.

“Joel, what-no, you’ll–” he pulls you into his arms. 

“Do you really think I’m not strong enough?”

“I didn’t say that,” you chuckle as he carries you over the threshold and into the bedroom, breath puffing against him before he lays you down on the bed. 

When he hovers over you, your fingers wind into his hair, nails raking against his scalp. He savors every sweet sigh he’s able to pull from you, hands cupping your breasts and squeezing your hips. You’re so pliant and open beneath his body, it makes it easier to not feel guilty about what he’s doing. He knows he shouldn’t feel guilty, you’ve said as much, but it might take some time before the feeling will die completely. Hopefully, he has enough time with you to see it off completely.

Clothes are removed quickly, intentionally, as you both bare more and more of yourself to each other. And while he wishes he could’ve been there to see the ways in which your body has changed, you’re still as beautiful as ever. 

Joel, however, is hesitant to give himself away completely. When you tug at the hem of his shirt, he hesitates. 

“I don’t know if-” he pauses. “If you want to see all that.”

“Joel,” you stare at him knowingly, kneeling across from him as he stands at the edge of the bed. “I do.” 

So he releases your hand, and lets you pull it over his head. Carefully, you study him, his body littered with scars. He knows he’s not as in shape as you remember. These days, he hardly can look at himself in the mirror after a shower. He expects you to be disgusted, or at least see it flit across your face before you compose yourself, but you don’t. Your fingertips drag through the smattering of hair on his chest and down his torso, tracing several prominent scars – each one with a story – but you linger on the one at his abdomen, frowning. 

He sees the question on your face, but you don’t ask it. Instead, you return to press yourself against him. “I’m so glad you’re still here….”

You kiss him, then, and Joel can only kiss you back. 

Joel isn’t the only one with battle scars. Some of them he feels are his fault, but you seem less self-concious about them, which gives him a surprising amount of confidence. Maybe it’s just a reality of what happens when you make it this long. 

When you’re finally bare beneath him, he admires how you look, stretched out and waiting, chest heaving and shivering with anticipation. He slides his hand between your legs – feels you already wet and warm, sinking two fingers inside. Your walls flutter around the intrusion, back arcing off the bed when you sigh out his name. Joel.

He’d forgotten how nice it felt to hear that. 

Joel is already thinking about what he’d like to do to you next time. He’d be more careful, more patient. He’d bury his face between your thighs to see if you tasted as good as he remembers, he’d let your fingers curl into his hair. But right now you both seem desperate for the same thing. 

He pumps his cock a few times with his hand, he can’t remember the last time he’d been this hard – the last time he’s wanted anyone this badly. Even with Tess, it had always felt like the both of them were hurrying to scratch an itch, her eyes would wander like she was thinking of other people, and maybe he was, too. 

Joel lines himself up with your slick cunt, teases you a little, and you roll your body down to meet him, gasping when his blunt head slides in – just a little. 

He can’t hold back. You practically suck him in, so tight and hot around him he finds it immediately overwhelming, but he doesn’t even think to pull out. Only when he’s fully seated inside you, and given you a chance to adjust, does he start to move. 

It’s euphoric. You’re both older now, more mature, but he still remembers all the things you liked, even if it takes a moment for him to find the spot inside you that makes you cry out, legs wrapping around his hips. 

Unlike before, you don’t bother trying to hide from him. You kiss him, hold him, touch him, look him in the eyes, tell him how good he feels – you don’t hold back. Joel relishes every word you say, clings to the praise and gives it back. Your lashes flutter when he tells you how pretty you look.

He can think of nothing else other than bringing you pleasure, can tell you’re getting close when you begin to rut against him, and he reaches down to let the pads of his fingers slide over your clit.

When you come, you whine his name, lock your lips with his own and he swallows your moans. The feeling of you so impossibly tight and wet and pulsing and squeezing him so tightly has him following closely after. 

His head is still buried in the crook of your neck when you speak again. “God, I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too.”

The second Joel pulls out, he starts missing how close he felt to you. But you fix that by rolling over onto your stomach, curling up at his side, head on his chest, and arm across his stomach. 

“Joel. Fuck, you’re so perfect.”

He’s far from it. But he’s starting to think if you say it enough, maybe he’ll start to believe it. He turns his head to kiss you gently, slowly. “So are you.” 

“We can do this again, right?” you ask. 

“Yes,” he says. “Yes, we can.”

“Good,” you settle back against him, and very slowly, he dozes off with you right beside him. He doesn’t want to sleep alone again, and luckily, he doesn’t have to. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

-December 4th, 2026-

When you return home from patrol, you find Joel in his living room – boots off and socked feet propped on the arm of the couch. You don’t notice his eyes are closed, that he’s asleep, until you get closer, see the book he’d been reading resting on his chest as he snores lightly. You can’t help but feel for him – he’s probably exhausted from constant patrols, so he must be tired. 

But mostly, you’re just overwhelmed by the love you feel for him, catching him in a quiet moment of vulnerability. Hesitantly, you reach out and squeeze his foot. It’s gentle and tender enough that he blinks his eyes open and looks around, taking in his surroundings, rather than jolting awake like he often does. When he sees you on the opposite end of the couch, he melts back into the pillow he’s propped against. 

“Hey, stud,” you lean against the arm of the couch. 

“Hey,” Joel answers, voice still gruff with sleep. “How long was I out?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “I just got in.”

“Hmm,” Joel closes his eyes again, folds his hands across his stomach.

“You’re wearing the glasses I got you,” you point out. They’re simple. Rectangular black frames. You’d found them on patrol, and brought them home after Joel had been complaining that he could barely see when he read before bed. But he’d tried them on and insisted he hated the way they looked, so you’d ended up using them most of the time.

“They do work,” he grumbles, like he’s ashamed to admit it. “But I still think they look stupid.”

“You look like a sexy librarian,” Joel rolls his eyes, but you can tell he’s suppressing a grin. There’s always a bit of defiance about him, he can’t fully admit how you get him so flustered even after you’ve spent so much time together. You press your thumb into the arch of his foot and he groans. “That feel good?” you ask. 

“Yes.”

“Whatcha reading?” You gesture towards the book. 

“Some book about the moon landing,” Joel lifts it off of his chest, where it lay face down and open, looks at the back cover. “For Ellie.”

“How sweet.”

“It’s a little dry,” he deadpans. “But she likes this stuff.” 

You shift your massage to his other foot. Joel stretches, his arms lifting above his head, the shirt he’s wearing rides up just so, so you see a sliver of his lower belly before it disappears again, throwing an arm over his eyes. 

“Are you tired?” you ask. 

“Always,” he says through a yawn. 

“Me too,” you yawn along with him, since they’re contagious. He pulls the glasses from their perch on the bridge of his nose and shuts the book, placing them both on the coffee table in front of him. You take your hands off his feet and he sits up a little straighter, holding out his hand. 

“Come ‘ere,” he says, and you do. 

He grunts as you settle into his arms, head nestled against his chest, sprawling out almost on top of him, the only way you both can fit like this on the couch.

“You’re so warm,” you say softly, letting him wrap his arms around you. 

“You’re cold. Your hands are freezing,” he holds them in his own.

“It’s cold out.”

“Don’t know why you left today.”

“Obligations. Patrol.”

“Fuck that.”

You laugh into his chest, pausing for a moment before speaking again. “You know, I think we might be boring.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Well, we don’t really leave the house. We spend all day reading. And we’re old.”

“We’re not that old.”

“But we’re getting up there.”

“Sure, but…” Joel trails off. 

“Everything’s so quiet, so calm.”

“I think that’s what most people would describe as content.” 

“Are you content?” you ask, lifting your head to look him in the eyes. 

“I’m happy,” he says softly, tucking a piece of hair behind your ears. “Are you?”

“Of course.”

“Good. Then don’t worry about the rest.”

“Okay,” you settle back against your husband's chest, feel his lips brush your forehead.

His fingers search absentmindedly for the ring on your finger he’d found while clearing out a pawn shop not too long ago. The one he wore looked nothing like your own. But the marriage had been long overdue, and neither of you cared what the rings actually looked like. 

Nowadays, you split your time between his place with Ellie, and your own with Ethan, but end up in his bed every night. At this point, you don’t think you could sleep without him. 

Years ago, another lifetime, you’d had a conversation underneath a sky full of stars. You’d told him that for you, good things had never lasted. Joel had made a promise. 

This will.

It took time. There was a lot of pain. But in the end, he had told you the truth.

-

-

-

[satans-knitwear]

Love this combo 💜

Treat me (wishlist) ~ Tip (pypl) me (cshpp)

[that-was-anticlimactic]

fragments of the day

“You’ve got so many knots tonight, Kento,” Yu commented, and though Kento couldn’t see him, he was sure Yu was frowning. “You gotta tell me when it starts to get this bad, okay?”

“I didn’t want to worry you.”

I didn’t want to bother you.

“You’re my best friend, Kento. I’m always gonna worry about you,” Yu replied easily, pushing into his muscles even harder and damn, that felt amazing; Yu really was good at giving massages. “I don’t like seeing you in pain.”

Kento sucked in a breath, then coughed, trying to play it off as a tic. How was Yu able to be so open with him? How was he able to share what’s in his heart? Hell, Kento can’t even say I love you. He has to rely on don't be stupid and be careful to get the message across.

Sometimes, he wished he were more like Yu.

So, Kento passed him another orange.

[or, nanami has bad shoulder pain and haibara makes it a little better]

⛅️12,868 words | nanami & haibara, nanami & gojo🌥

chapter one

chapter two

[snow-system-wol]

(A few weeks or longer after the prior little fishing story, though he didn't cut his hair yet here.)

S'ria has been holed up in the kitchen trying to resurrect a faint childhood memory through willpower alone, and G'raha joins him to keep vigil while he works (an act that is surprisingly more intimate than he'd expected).

Ao3

(cw for themes of grief. H/c fluff territory.)

S'ria had been in the kitchen for around four bells now. G'raha didn't know whether it'd be a bit impolite to ask the other Scions what was going on, but they looked as confused as anyone else, so this didn't seem to be normal behavior for him.

He'd snuck in there once everyone had finished eating dinner for the night and had been in there since. G'raha tried to think back (to a lifetime ago) to when he'd first made camp with S'ria at the base of the Crystal Tower. Had he cooked then, or even helped with food preparation? It was somewhat uncomfortable that he couldn't actually recall those details very well.

G'raha watched most of the others filter off to bed, still not having seen S'ria return. He sighed and made his way to the kitchen. It wasn't exactly as if he had any sort of leg to stand on, should he try to convince S'ria to rest and sleep for his own well-being (ugh, he was never going to hear the end of that).

G'raha was good at being quiet, and the many carpeted areas of The Rising Stones made that even easier – but that wasn't the goal right now. He dropped his heels heavily as he walked, lightly nudging a chair or two as he moved past.

If there was one thing he remembered from his first time meeting S'ria, it was that the man does not like to be startled. Amazingly, G'raha's noisy approach didn't seem to have broken S'ria's attention away from whatever he was doing. He knocked on the inside of the door frame before coming any closer, S'ria finally looking up at him.

He looked… exhausted. At some point he'd clearly tied his hair into a bun and tried to pin his bangs back, but most of it had escaped by now. He also looked like he may have been recently crying.

"Let me… let me keep trying, please?"

Gods, it wasn't as though he needed G'raha's permission for that. "Well, 'tis your kitchen, is it not? Far be it from me to stop you." He paused with a tilt of his head. "Do you want me to leave?"

It was a cautiously worded question. Should S'ria want to be alone, he would most likely answer honestly. However, if he'd asked instead whether he wanted company, he worried S'ria would refuse on principle. It was hard to discern the flickers of emotions that passed over S'ria's face, and G'raha didn't even feel he had the level of understanding needed to try.

He eventually shook his head with no further answer – well, if S'ria didn't want him gone, he may as well stay. G'raha retreated to a chair a respectable distance away from him, settling in for what may be a while.

S'ria was muttering to himself at various intervals, but G'raha politely ignored that and focused instead on what he was doing. There were a large amount of containers and components spread across nearly all of the open counter space, carefully labeled. S'ria would heat something up in a tiny pot, add carefully considered bits of things from the counter, taste it, and then immediately dump and rinse the pot. He'd then mark something on a piece of parchment with an awkwardly held quill and immediately restart the process.

At least twice during the time he was there, S'ria sat down on the floor for a few minutes, angrily wiping tears out of his eyes. G'raha had opened his mouth to say something at least, and S'ria had quickly shaken his head, which he took to mean that he wasn't supposed to acknowledge it.

It was nearly three in the morning when S'ria next took a break, this time crossing the kitchen and dropping onto the floor to awkwardly lean against G'raha's shins.

"I'm so close, I know it, it's just… missing something. I hope I bought whatever it is, I just – it's almost right."

G'raha took a deep breath before speaking. "Pray forgive me if this is prying, but what is it that you're attempting?"

"Mm, it's not prying if I dragged you into it." S'ria shifted, letting the back of his head thunk gently against G'raha's knee. "I remembered something today. Just for a moment, just the taste of an all-purpose stew base for making dinner and the faintest memory of helping with it, and… I have to figure it out, because I'm the only one alive who could possibly know." S'ria's voice took on a strange gentle lilt, mimicking a voice half-remembered. "You'll be making this for me someday, pay attention, Ria." He pulled his legs up to his chest and buried his face in his knees. "Ma, I wasn't paying enough attention."

"I–". G'raha cursed his voice for cracking just a little bit. "I do not think that you weren't paying attention. I think that that was just a very long time ago. It's wonderful that you've remembered this much and that you're trying to make it, truly."

"Do you actually think so, or are you just trying to be nice?"

"Yes, I wholeheartedly believe what I said. Wicked White, I barely remember most of my life now, and I supposedly should have access to all of my memories. You're swimming upstream, and I dare say you're getting somewhere despite it."

It was quiet for a few minutes after that. G'raha hoped it was the good kind of rumination, and that he had not said something bad while tired.

S'ria wordlessly hopped back up and returned to his cooking. G'raha returned to his vigil. Well, more like he fell mostly asleep in his chair, but close enough.

G'raha awoke an unknown period of time later to a series of loud clatters. He, upon figuring out where he even was, cracked open one tired eye to see S'ria manically sorting the ingredients on the counters into two groups, scribbling onto the parchment with the speed of a man who worried he may lose his train of thought any second. Eventually he turned around, bright-eyed despite the (unknown) time in the morning, waving G'raha over to join him by the stovetop. There was something in the pot that smelled rich and savory.

"I figured it out, I actually got it right! Would you–". S'ria cut off, suddenly looking very unsure. "...Would you like to try it?"

"Of course, my friend."

S'ria passed him a ladle with a small amount of soup in it and G'raha tried not to be intimidated by how big of a deal this all was. He took a sip. It was fine, it was soup.

Okay, he had to do better than that.

Gods, he'd never been the type to be extremely picky or notice the little things (he used to make do with Archon Loaf, for gods' sake), but he tried to focus on the details. It was rich, the mix of spices was doing something… good?

It wasn't anything earth-shattering or without comparison. Really, it wasn't unlike any other regional recipe, but it was also the most important thing that could possibly exist. There were now two people currently alive in this world that could share this.

S'ria had managed to resurrect something lost to history, handed him a piece of a family recipe. That had to be worth something, worth everything even, right? Certainly worth a night of missing sleep.

It struck G'raha that he should say something, but what was he possibly supposed to say? It's good? That would be woefully insufficient. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, aware that S'ria was looking at him intently as he tried to figure out how to convey his thoughts.

I understand how important this is.

I'm honored that you'd share this with me.

I think it's good, but it would be good even if it was BAD because it's yours and you're letting me try this.

He eventually settled on something. "Could you teach me? If that's alright with you, of course."

S'ria smiled in a way that G'raha wasn't sure he'd ever seen from him and it made his heart kind of skip a beat, and yes, it seemed like he managed to convey what he'd meant in a way that was understood. 

[pebblezone]

this Tylenol ain’t shit w

[let-me-call-myself-olga]

Tips and tricks on how to survive Danganronpa

Ok, since a lot of people liked my post about how the mastermind of V3 could've been caught I decided to make a small guide on how someone could survive Danganronpa.

So you just found yourself and 15 other students trapped in Hope's Peak Academy. Everyone seems confused on how they got in this facility and the inability of getting out of it, but as soon as everyone gatters a black and white teddybear presents itself as Monokuma and welcomes you all to the killing game.

Now that we know the setting we are in and how dangerous the situation is the first thing we have to do is stay calm and try to keep the rest of the students calm. If we act rationally and get everyone to quiet down then we might get the chance to negotiate with Monokuma and try to get him to let us out of the school. Of course, Monokuma won't let us out until there are only two students left, but for someone who wouldn't know that it would be worth the shot since the group might start viewing them as a valuable player, being brave enough to ask things like this. With everyone thinking of us as a great person we are reducing the risk of getting ourselves killed.

Monokuma starts explaining the rules and everyone feels uneasy. Once Monokuma finishes the killing game starts and the participants are left to do whatever they want.

Now before we begin with the ground rules there is something that must be clarified. The difference between a death game and a killing game: in a death game the game tries to kill you; in a killing game the participants try to kill you. With that in mind we won't be able to 100% work togheter as you would expect in a death game such as Your Turn To Die (had to make the reference because the game is gold, go play it), therefore we can get started with the ground rules:

1. Never fully trust anybody:

This game was made so that it can evaluate the psychology of each player, making the students go against each other so that they can see them reaching their breaking points and who can keep their morals under life-threatning situations.

Of course there will be betrayals, otherwise the game wouldn't be able to go on, but the best thing to do is manipulate your fellow players into murder and make them think it was THEIR OWN ideea so that the rest of the students won't try to go against you, after all, survival is the main goal.

2. If you aren't a master manipulator but a little cinnamon roll then this rule should be your ace: find people to spend your time with!

Going alone is honestly one of the dumbest decisions you could ever make (looking at you Rantaro), so the best thing to do is find someone with strong morals and become their companion, because by doing so you will have more chances of winning than going with someone whose morals are out the window (manipulators and possible murderers)or going all alone.

If you are great at mind games then the people you want to spend your time with are:

a. mentally gray people or better known as "the mood equivalent to resting bitch face"(ex. Chiaki Nanami, Himiko Yumeno)

b. physically weak people (ex. Chihiro Fujisaki, Shuichi Saihara)

c.(female presenting people only) simps (ex. Hifumi Yamada, Kazuichi Souda)

d.(people good at keeping their image clean only) gullible people (ex. Chihiro Fujisaki, Gonta Gokuhara)

3. The most important rule, the one only dum dums don't follow: respect Monokuma.

This is literally the one rule that decides it all since Monokuma is the one supervising and controlling the killing game. Defying him is like giving yourself a death sentence./srs

The most you can do in order to help everyone as a whole is buy time by either being nice to Monokuma or by "planning a murder" and having him prolongue the time you have for killing.

4. Overanalysis is key.

The mistake killing games and death games usually make is the underestimation of the players looking into things as this can give us a big adventage.

Since the rules aren't overlyconcrete about what you can't and cannot do this gives us a chance to find gaps and use them to their full extent.

As all of us know, what I like to call the most important rule goes as follows:

→"Nighttime" is from 10 p.m. to 8 a.m. The dining hall and gymnasium are off-limits at night.

Since the rest of the rules don't talk about restrictions when it comes to our enviroment and Monokuma didn't add one yet that means we are being given control over property damage, giving us benefits I will talk about later.

Now that we finished with the ground rules, there are aspects that we need to keep in mind during trials:

A. as an "investigator"

B. as a blackened

A. as an "investigator"

When trying to find the blackened, rule 4 is a great strategy to make sure that we don't miss crucial details that could show us the blackened when searching.

Once we gathered enough proof and time is up we enter the trial room. The thing about trials is the fact that staying quiet the whole time is as bad as talking non-stop and getting participants in tight spots for absolutely no reason, therefore we should try and speak moderately, a bit higher than average since we have done the most investigating and people will want to know what we found. Communicating information isn't hard since we can either tell it ourselves or (if we are uncomfortable with speaking to "large" groups) we can have someone next to us give our thoughts on the topic.

The trick to this is that you need to look and sound trustworthy and never back on your word. If you seem confident and ready to take responsability then the group will most likely agree with you.

B. as a blackened

To be honest, it is almost the same as A., but the gimmick to this is that you have to be a good liar and keep a poker face for the entire trial (something that the SHSL Gambler wasn't able to do for some reason). If you are bad at lying then just speak only when you are asked about your opinions and such and try to get yourself as far as possible from the spotlight.

Since we know the trial etiquete it is time for the fun part: making use of everyone's talents.

Some of the most important have to be SHSL Mechanic and SHSL Inventor as the two of them have access to gear that could be used to get the students out of this building (ex. blow-torches, screwdrivers and wrenches etc.)

Some other useful talents could be SHSL Programmer (they can hack the cameras and have them blocked on the same imagery for an entire night that can be used by the students to get out of the school), SHSL Magician, Musician and Pianist are a few "ultimates" good for decoy as they would be able to get Monokuma and the cameras' attention, leaving the exit "without security".

During trials roles such as SHSL Anthropologist, Writing Prodogy(not Toko though, she bases her work on herself)and Fanfic Creator/Doujin Author are efficient as they are able to tell differences in behavior (as they need to have deep understanding of the human nature in order for their works to get them awarded as SHSLs, making them observing types that should pick up any changes in manners of acting).

Of course we have SHSL Detectives, Criminologists (Shuichi Saihara screams Criminologist and you cannot tell me otherwise)and Analysts(Junko used to be SHSL Analyst before becoming SHSL Despair from what I know)that are 100% putting their fullest in those trials and beating the living daylights out of the culprits.

To be honest, "ultimates" aren't the things you should mainly put your attention on but their wielder's competence (SHSL Princess is a seemingly useless role and yet Sonia was able to help a lot in Chapter 2 trial and Chapter 5 investigation with the things she learned by being a princess). Fixating on talent just gets in the way.

Now I am ending my rant because I am sure you can pinpoint the moment I started losing energy and I hope you are having a wonderful day!

[astrxealis]

FULL CROWN MENTOR ICON LET'S FUCKIN GOOOOOOOO T___T ✨

[goldeunoias]

Tw:internalized racism? I guess?

[thatlesbiancrow]

I'm also a cis girl that feels very bad when seeing a mustache growing. I don't care about societal standards (I rarely shave my legs, wear anything from feminine to masculine, really don't feel pressures), but whenever I start seeing a mustache growing on my face, I feel like it's not me. I associate it with men. And if I don't shave it off, I feel bad inside.

yeah.. like i couldn't care less about my leg hair or armpit hair, but the mustache does stir insecurity...

im trying to break myself out of being insecure, but it hasn't been successful :/

[leguminous]

life lately…

[kyuala]

i just lov her sm u guys 🥹

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for asking my partner not to talk about how happy he is that Ghandi was assassinated?

I hope this doesn't get too long! 🍀

I (26, F) am Irish Australian, my partner (33, M) is Sikh. He's shared many beautiful things about his culture with me, and has a thoughtful way of describing the relationship between Sikh history and current culture.

However I get a bit uncomfortable when he talks about how Gandhi was assassinated by a Sikh person. I know enough about Gandhi to be aware that while he might've had some good impact, he had plenty of underreported bad too. But I don't pretend to understand the extent of it all.

I also understand what a complex thing that sort of cultural history is, my family joke about being proud of the assassination of Mountbatten by the IRA. But we keep that talk behind closed doors, it requires more understanding of the Troubles than the average person has. Also, joking about death is a bit nasty unless you know everyone is comfortable

My issue with my partner is that when he talks about Gandhi's death he's not speaking with a historical context. He gets very serious and sits up all tall and says proudly that Sikhs are a warrior race and they fucking delivered. He has done this in company and in private and it's always very intense and a mood killer, he is not joking at all. I think that level of confident pride in the death of another is kinda messed up

So, I asked him to not talk about it in such a full on way. He refused to apologise because he is proud of it and he said that he's glad they did it (I appreciate his honestly there). I asked if he would be pleased to see a similar event play out today, a Sikh assassinating a major political influencer. He said he would be happy and asked the same of me regarding Mountbatten (this had come up in the conversation, obviously I'm paraphrasing, the whole thing was pretty upsetting tbh) and I said no cos it's not an active war. Also, that I don't actually stand behind that I'm just comfortable with the complexity of it to joke with my family and still know people understand where I stand. Like, the IRA killed his kids too. The whole time was fucked.

He said he's not joking. He, gently, said I was being a bit of a hypocrite. He didn't promise to not talk about Gandhi, but hasn't brought it up since. I feel like he's pretty unhappy about it

I dunno, I asked him without really thinking about it all and I think he makes a good point about the Mountbatten parallel. I'm not sure if the difference in my feelings is my own ethics or just me being a bit racist. And it's not his job to make me not be racist if I've got some stuff to work through. But still, I think if it was any culture I'd be uncomfortable with that much aggressive pride in murder. Like, I've grown up in a country without a death penalty, death is not something people can dole out imo, and his approval of it is so absolute and genuine, there's no pulling the punch. Unlike my way of talking about Mountbatten.

So, AITA for asking my partner to stop talking about his pride in a Sikh person assassinating Gandhi?

What are these acronyms?

[qtkoshi]

Maybe gn!Reader and Hobie adopt a kitten and the other three (Pavitr, Gwen, and Miles) come to see the kitten? Maybe a orange kitten gn!Reader wanted to name Spunk or Spike while Hobie gave them a spike collar? Would be cute lol

i luv ur brain anon

"you got....a kitten?"

- ok ok idk if this is what u meant, but u can feel free to run this with the bubblegum reader + hobie bc i think it fits alright :-) - also get a little deep with describing relationship,, but it’s necessary for the plot ! (...) - also!!! tysm for the requests; i am very excited to get into them, but will prob wait till tmrw to release bc it is my birthday today <3 much love to you all

──★ ˙ ̟ to the stars ！

general headcannons

alright first of all: hobie with a kitten? i’m in tears. 

i love the hc that hobie has a soft spot for cats and the fact that y’all got one together? bye.

NAPS WITH THE KITTEN JUST NESTLED BETWEEN BOTH OF YOU

this cat is gonna be SPOILED in attention i tell u rn

hobie isn’t as obvious ab it as u, but the amount of times u see him chilling with the cat just perched on his shoulder?? (why are u taking the baby swinging across the city hobie; wait a min now–)

how u got him

imagine this: ur walking past an alley and hear this small little meow; after further investigation you find this tuft of orange fur crying outside the dumpster and

now u gotta take it in what r u talking about!!

bringing him home immediately ; hobie's spidey senses prob picked up the cat's presence before you got in the door.

'baby what's that.' 'c'mon spiderman we got saving to do'

man can't even argue with you

hobie not naming the cat himself bc he doesn’t wanna enforce socio-constructed labels on an unsuspecting creature that can’t consent

u can tho.

and while you very much want to, you tell hobie you gotta think on it for a bit – it has to fit just right!! (tbh he rlly doesn’t mind the cat being nameless, but he’s kinda whipped and will kinda go with what u want if it helps give that pretty lil smile to him again)

spider-squad finding out ab him

the besties r wrapping up something with a fight and hobie’s all k gotta leave and check on the cat and the rest are like ????? 

pav absolutely floored bc how dare did u not mention this sooner hobie

'so you lot wanna come see him?' (inter-dimensional travel ensues) – also never gonna complain ab coming to hobie’s house they all think his place is dope

i’m sure we all know orange cats are fucking crazy and that does not exclude the little gremlin jumping off the walls of your flat rn

hobie ofc is smirking bc his son the cat is a little agent of chaos and he couldn’t be more proud 

you, on the other hand, are just a little tired trying to get the fucker to stay still for a second so u can put on the damn flea medicine

everybody loves him are u kidding (miles a little hesitant tho, he still has beef with the last spiderman-variant cat he met :/ ) 

“so whats its name?” miles was watching with wary eyes as the little ball of fur darted around. with a heavy (and definitely not dramatic) sigh, you walk over to the group “still haven’t picked. we just found him yesterday.”

luv the idea of hobie looking at u anytime ur in the room (stay with me now) — can’t help it u just grab all his attention, maybe stop being so lovely idk

speaking of your relationship: he has spent years battering against everything life throws at him that having your love in the palm of his hands? something to protect not in the way he does as a hero, but in the way to cherish as a person?? give the man a break, he deserves to admire you whenever he can.

anyways hobie’s looking at you before going ‘oh yea’, just grunts and pulls out this little collar with little spikes and their matching and oh my that is so cute

says he found it in some garbage, most def made the collar with some scraps like he did his own (gotta keep it cool yk)

you giddy and putting the collar on the little heathen and just all ‘omg wait a min’

promptly lifting the cat up and “THIS IS SPIKE.”

cue golf claps from the squad with some ooo’s and aah’s

more gen headcannons

remember when hobie and the cat were swinging around the city? yea he's taking that mf everywhere. puts him in his pocket like a little surprise

hobie loves to play fight with the cat

spike is the perfect mix; got hobie’s energy and your brightness it’s a win-win

i could write more but i'll stop here for now 🕸️

⊗

[ctrlchar]

Johnnie Guilbert nsfw alphabet

not requested

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

he’s such a sweetheart when it comes to aftercare that sometimes he forgets to take care of himself. firm believer he keeps a bag of baby wipes near his bed which he’ll use to clean you up and he’ll make sure you know he loves and cares about you especially if he was being rough

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

he really likes your tits and thighs,this isn’t anything sexual but he loves how comfortable it is to lay on them when you two are together

he doesn’t have a favorite body part on himself,more so a thing. that thing happens to be his tattoos. he’s very proud of how good they look and how many he has

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

he’s so messy when it comes to cum. he’ll do it in the spot that’s most convenient which if you don’t want him to cum inside you is gonna be your stomach

I also think he cums a lot

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

he just wants a woman who can tell him what to do tbh,i don’t think he’s a complete sub but he definitely likes someone who will boss him around due to him being a little more introverted

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

he’s hooked up with girls a few times but has only had sex with a few of those girls I think that he can definitely read you easily and tell what kinks you have within the second or third time you guys fuck

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

very simple when it comes to positions,he likes missionary because of his intimate it can be. he also likes to watch you face contort at each movement his hips make

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

I don’t think so honestly,he usually gets too wrapped up in both you and his pleasure to even think about being funny

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

I feel like he randomly shaves it for no reason but if it’s not completely shaved he won’t care too much

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…) 

he shows his intimacy outside the bedroom rather then in,he prefers to show you how much he loves you (which sometimes will be sex) rather then telling you he loves you in the moment during sex

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

he jerks off about 3-4 times a week because he gets far too embarrassed to initiate any sort of sexual activity but this embarrassment fades the longer you two are together

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

he is a masochist and i am willing to die on this hill

Johnnie had been between your thighs pulling orgasm after orgasm out of you. your hands had been resting on top of his until the overstimulation started to kick in. your hands flew to his hair pulling on it softly as you moaned out his name not even noticing the way he would moan against your cunt with each tug of his hair

praise-he loves praising you as well we being praised. he also likes to apply ownership when he parises you meaning he’ll say “you’re doing so good for me” “you look so pretty on my cock” “don’t you love that i’m the only one who can fuck this pretty little cunt?”

impact play-i’m not sure if this is technically impact play but we’ll say it is. whenever he goes down on you he loves to slap your cunt if you disobey him. that’s honestly as far as he’ll go though,I can’t see him hitting you or anything like that

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

prefers a bed but he does enjoy fucking you in his gaming chair or maybe over his desk. did I mention his gaming chair? he would die if you rode him in his gaming chair

your hips had been grinding against Johnnie’s as he wrapped his arms around your waist while you rode him like your life depended on it. with his confidence growing,Johnnie moves his hands from your waist to your ass as he begins to move you the way he wants you to move on his cock

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

he adores seeing you in makeup,all he thinks about is how your mascara would run down your face as you give him head

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

he wouldn’t do anything like role play,it’s just not something he seems interested in

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

he looses all self respect the second you give him head,he’s more of a begger though and this also applies to giving you head he will beg and beg to eat you out and when he starts it’s almost impossible to get him to stop

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

definitely more slow but if he notices you want him do go faster then he happily will

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

not opposed to one but he’ll never ask you for one because he prefers to take his time with you,he does love how needy you become during quickies though

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

I think he would try anything about once but he makes sure the two of you talked about it before hand

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

maybe two? but he does last a while for the most part

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

he personally doesn’t use them and he wouldn’t mind if you used them but it might make him a little self conscious if you go to a toy rather then him

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

he doesn’t tease you too much other then maybe a crude joke here and there but nothing physical

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

he whimpers when he’s about to cum 100% but other then that he kinda just lets out shakey breaths/ groans or talks to you rather then moan but every now and then he’ll let out a couple moans

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

one time when he was giving you head he subconsciously started grinding into the bed but stopped himself before he came and he could’ve cried from him ruining his own orgasm

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

firm believer he has a skinny cock,not a small one but it’s skinny

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

for actual sex it’s pretty high now that he has a girlfriend,because now it’s just like the two of you can fuck whenever you want

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

I don’t think he falls asleep after,he’ll usually do something on his phone or maybe watch a movie after he’s done taking care of you

[maranescence]

[POTENTIAL MURDER DRONES SPOILERS AHEAD]

Felt impulsy and fan service-y, so I drew a few more screenshot redraws of MD Episode 7 but with @lumineary-arts ‘s Murder Drones Swap AU, since it’s a lot of fun! However, I mainly went along with what we know about her AU so far, tho, so I didn’t include other details like Swap!N and Swap!Cyn’s other parent (who would take canon Nori’s place). I’d leave it to the AU’s creator.

I HIGHLY doubt Nate/Swap!N would tell Z/Swap! Uzi to “die mad”, I feel like he would apologize and genuinely feel guilty for sacrificing himself in front of her after she witnessed T/Swap!Thad do the same thing. Also I honestly loved how the solver symbol turned out! It isn’t perfect, but it sure looks great tbh! Also as some of you might know, backgrounds aren’t my strongest suit 😂

This one was pretty simple, but I am SHOOK at how in-canon this turned out to look. If you zoom out really far, it almost looks like a photo from the actual show! This particular screenshot probably isn’t highly significant in the plot, but I thought that Maid V’s appearance in the episode was an excuse to draw Butler Thad (since V and Thad switch places), who of course is just a mere hallucination produced by the Solver here (unfortunately). Since the artist stated that the solver was Russian-speaking in this AU, I guess that it would imply that Butler Thad in this episode would speak the same language!

Finally (my favorite one so far), the girl bosses ever! I’m kinda proud of how this turned out but HOLY HELL drawing the school bus was hard for me. I kinda got a little lazy and mostly blocked the majority of it with clouds 😂 I originally planned on having Swap!Tessa stand alongside Swap!J and Swap!V with a weapon in hand to reflect on her leaderlike personality, but I decided to put her up on the bus to make her look like the lady in charge. I kinda feel like I made her look a bit too intimidating, but I wanted her to have a “girlboss” expression. Look out, SD-L!

I wish I could draw a few more, but I ran out of ideas 😅 Also reminder: I tried to stay as in canon as possible, so PLEASE don’t hesitate to correct me if I made any mistakes!

[enblvsh]

ENHYPEN HEADCANON - their favorite form of physical affection

genre. soft/fluff, suggestive for jay.

a/n. omg, hi.. soo quick life update; i went to the seventeen concert in oakland!! literally had the best time of my life and i miss them sm :(( also i haven't written anything since i last posted, so im currently easing back into it, please bare with ૮₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎ა also can i just wow, this is the first post i started and actually finished in one sitting?!?!? so proud of myself tbh

lee heeseung. ʚɞ headpats although it may not seem as "traditional" or "romantic", heeseung likes it because it can be used to express many things. when he's proud of you; *pat* when he finds you adorable; *pat* or when your simply just existing; *pat* *pat* *pat*. it's also his way of saying hello and acknowledging your presence—say as your passing by him or sitting next to him. hee just finds it adorable and endearing; and because its subtle, he likes that he can do it in front of the others as well, without having to deal with their teasing and complaints.

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈«

park jongseong. ʚɞ kisses jay is a classic man who would express his love through kisses. i feel like he'd absolutely LOVE to spoil you with kisses, not even kidding he will kiss you 10 times a day AT LEAST; whether that's before he leaves for work, when he comes back, while you're falling asleep in each other's arms, or simply any moment in each other's presence. it's not always on the lips though; he'll kiss your forehead, eyelids, cheeks, neck, collarbone, shoulders, and hands. they tend to be soft and sweet, simply expressing his pure love and admiration for you, but they can also be passionate and heated, which may or may not lead to something more...

sim jaeyun. ʚɞ cuddles i am so whipped for jake, he's literally the clingiest and cuddliest boy ever ! he'll drop anything just to cuddle with you, even if it's important, but really nothing will ever be more important than you :( tbh you guys are always cuddling, but his favorite are the ones after a long day, because that's when they're the most comforting. jake is always a giggling mess during your cuddle sesh; i mean, how else is he suppose to react when your cute lil face is so close to his? with that being said, he prefers to be the big spoon so he can admire and plant kisses all over your face, but he occasionally likes to be the little spoon too.

park sunghoon. ʚɞ holding hands this is more of a fact than an opinion, like have you seen the i-land clips? despite his cold and composed demeanor, ice prince is actually the softest boy there ever was, and is a little shy when it comes to pda. sunghoon likes any form of affection regarding your hands—holding them, kissing them, playing with them, etc. not only does he think its romantic but he likes the subtly of the act, and thinks it easy to hide when the others catch him being affectionate (even though he's horrible at playing it off.) he's always holding your hand in public too, or sometimes he'll link your pinkies together to give you a little more freedom when you go shopping. and even in private, he'll hold your hand while the other is scrolling through his phone. he just loves your hands and finds them so pretty (but not prettier than his duh!)

kim sunoo. ʚɞ hugs this little ball of sunshine ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა i've said it before, but sunoo is just so bubbly and absolutely loves being around you. his hugs are used to greet you, check up on you, comfort you, and so on. his favorite kind are back hugs, and he LOVES giving them. there's simply nothing better than holding you and resting his head on your shoulders, it's when he's at his happiest. and he most certainly loves being held as well. you loved how safe you felt in his embrace, his hugs are always so warm and theraputic (sunoo's hugs = free therapy and personal human heater). definitely the type of boyfriend to run up and hug you after being away from you for so long.

yang jungwon. ʚɞ hugs + cuddles jungwon seems so cuddly tbh, he looks like someone who'd give the warmest hugs, or whose hugs would instantly melt away the worries of those who embrace him. of course, his hugs would be a way to comfort you during tough times, but they're also his way of saying hello or expressing his curiosity to what you were doing. say you're making yourself food, he'll just come up from behind and wrap his arms around you while watching what you were making. jungwon also loves cuddles; he doesn't have a particular reason why, he just does, and it's not like he has to do much to get what he wants (he has his ways ◔_◔) 75% of the times he's the little spoon, because to him that's when he can let down his guard, take a break from being the leader and relax. but when he's the big spoon, he'll be constantly brushing your hair behind your ear/running his finger through your hair, and give you so so many back rubs!

nishimura riki. ʚɞ leaning on each other's shoulders honestly speaking, riki doesn't seem like someone who's big on physical touch, maybe that's because he's young? but this boy will always lean his head on your shoulder when you're sitting close to each other. not only is it comfortable, but it's also his way of saying he's comfortable with you :) sometimes he'll lay your head on his shoulder too— it's him letting you know that you can be comfortable with him! riki oddly likes to rub his head against yours, which sounds funny but is actually quite adorable. whenever riki sees you sitting by yourself, he lwky feels bad because you're alone (even though you're perfectly fine with it.) of course he's not gonna let his s/o be alone, so he sits besides you and leans his head on your shoulder, so you know he's there for you <3

© enblvsh. PLEASE DO-NOT REWRITE, STEAL, COPY, TRANSLATE, MODIFY, OR REPOST ON OTHER PLATFORMS.