#it was very impulsive and a solo trip

[applepidotcom]

already planning my next bookstore trip even though I went the other night and now have 6 more books to read….. hehehe

[ghost-proofbaby]

kissing lessons

summary: you and robin have already shared several firsts as best friends: your first time holding hands, your first time cuddling someone, your first time flirting. so what's a little platonic kissing?

pairing: robin buckley x fem!reader

warnings: lots of sapphic pining, yearning, etc. assumed unrequited love. hopeless crushing. doing romantic things and claiming they're totally platonic when they very much are not. mentions of reading trying to conform to the 80s standards by dating a boy. reader is explicitly female (which should be given since robin is canonically a lesbian)

wc: 3.4k+

a/n: this one was a long time coming. it's based off of my own first kiss, loosely.

part 2

Being best friends with Robin Buckley has always been about growing – together.

Life has a plethora of lessons for young souls to learn in time, and some of those lessons were simply hard. The first time you picked up a musical instrument and attempted to play your very first note, and it sounded atrocious. Nothing like the movies, more difficult than you could have ever imagined. The first time you walked the halls of your high school, and the terrifying first wave of panic at the realization you’d need to learn the map of the lands in order to navigate that maze for the next four years. The first time you walked into a classroom all of two minutes late, and the first shatter of embarrassment in your chest as every eye in the room turned to you. The first time you trip over your own laces on your way to Chemistry, the first time you impulsively cut your hair with the kitchen scissors, the first time a boy asked you out as a joke, and the first time someone asked you out genuinely only to fumble over every single word. Your first school dance, your first time cooking pasta from scratch, your first time attending a concert without a chaperone. 

Firsts, firsts, firsts. Life is simply full of them, and they never get any easier or kinder, but having a best friend at your side certainly makes it all bearable. 

Robin Buckley was that rock for you. And you, for her. 

It’s sort of how you got into this mess to begin with. 

“It’s going to be weird, isn’t it?” 

“It’s not going to be weird unless we make it weird, Robin.”

“How can I not make it weird? Where would my lips even go?”

You’re both lucky that no one is home to hear all the shrieking currently occurring in your small bedroom. Only the posters on your wall and your teddy bear you’ve had since you were five are witnesses to the current predicament occuring. 

Robin had been the one to suggest it, in all fairness. Graduation was next week, and there had been a lot of reminiscing flying about. All the firsts, all the hopeful lasts, and all the fatal moments you needed to drag by the hair to the backyard and bury six feet under. 

The topic of conversation had veered pretty erratically, turning left towards that one stubborn B left on Robin’s postcard as a result of her refusing to attend her assigned tutoring for Geometry last year, and then sliding right as you’d huffed about that one girl who had been an absolute menace towards you sophomore year when you’d botched your improv solo at a band concert. But in the last five minutes, it had finally straightened out – it had finally begun to follow the trail of a line of remembering that no one else would ever be allowed to know outside of you and Robin. 

You’d brought up the first date you’d ever gone on. A ridiculous milkshake outing with some guy in your freshman English class that had left you feeling more confused than starry eyed or lovesick as the books promised. 

The date that had caused Robin Buckley to offer to hold your hand at random, in private moments, the week leading up to it. Just so you’d know how it felt. Just so you could figure out how to best intertwine your fingers with someone else’s without feeling terrible foreign about it all. 

It had been platonic. You both swore it had been, shrugging carelessly as you’d let your palm meet your best friends. 

And you’d felt more every time your skin brushed hers than you had the entire night with that boy. Spent the entire date wishing it was Robin’s knuckles bumping yours when you’d reached for that damn strawberry milkshake. 

“Against mine, I’d hope.” 

The dissection hadn’t ended at the hand-holding. Next, the two of you had wistfully recalled the sleepover in which you’d first decided to learn how to spoon one another. Robin had read about it in a magazine, you’d never had firsthand experience, and it just felt right to suggest. Robin had rambled for a good five minutes before you’d tugged her back into her bed and commanded her to just lay there as you figured out where you arm should go as your body curved along the back of hers. 

It had been nice. Really nice. 

You’d never gone out on another date after the Great Milkshake Catastrophe, as the two of you had called it. Robin claimed none of the boys at school could handle her eccentricism. Both of you, young girls fumbling about the world, starving for touch completely unaware. You told yourselves everyone cuddled with their friends. You told yourselves it was normal. 

But then, you’d switched positions, Robin being the big spoon as the teen magazine had described, and you swore your heart had burst when her arm wrapped around your waist and her fingers slotted between your own against your abdomen. 

You’d fallen asleep in that position. Awoken to Robin’s face pressed right into your chest as you’d spread out on your back. Ignored the flaky drool stain left behind on your skin when she’d finally joined the living once more. Pretended like you both hadn’t had the best rest of your lives as you’d clung to one another through fading dreams and subtle snores. 

It was normal, right? It had to be, because it was nice, and it had become a part of your normal sleepover rituals. 

Friends used each other’s boobs as pillows all the time, as Robin had defended. 

“Yeah, but, well-” Robin cuts off in her current stricken rambling, throwing her hands out around the air between you two, “What about when it’s more than just pecking? You know? All that gross shit, where tongues get involved and spit is exchanged and, oh God, should we be sucking on some mints right now or something? Oh my God, what if you’re allergic to my chapstic-”

Gross shit. 

The not-so-clever code word the two of you used whenever describing any sort of romantic interactions. Kissing, making out, sex. The things all of your peers were regular experiencing, sometimes even displaying in public, that the two of you only turned your noses up to. 

You didn’t want to suck the face off of Connor in your fifth period pottery class. The only person you could imagine on the receiving end of that that didn’t make your stomach turn was sitting right in front of you now, eyes wide and cheeks flushed as she clearly panicked. 

“I’m not allergic to passion fruit Lip Smackers, Robs.”

The switch to a passion fruit flavor was new. Robin had been using the strawberry flavor religiously prior, but had recently offered it to you with the excuse of your obsession with strawberry flavored things. 

And now, you’d been using it daily. Trying not to think about how many times her lips had been on it prior to yours. Trying not to think about how many ways you could twist it into some sick secondary kissing metaphor, to have your lips slick with the same sticky substance as hers had been so many times before.

Tried not to think about what Robin Buckley’s lips tasted like, period. Easier said than done when the thought crosses your mind every time you lick your lips moment after application, getting the faux sweetness all over your tongue. 

“You could be. And how would we even know? I can’t even drive! If you start to have an allergic reaction, I can’t even take you to the hospital! We don’t have a c-” 

You can’t do it anymore – any other day, you relish in the sound of Robin’s voice as she’ll squeal on and on about everything and anything. But not today. 

You cut her off with a kiss.

The very same kiss you’d both timidly agreed upon when you’d both realized graduation was next week, and neither of you had had your first kiss. 

The same deal as the cuddling. The same deal as the hand-holding. The same deal as all the pick-up lines and flirting you’d try out on each other, the same deal as all the sweet ‘love notes’ you’d write for one another and slip into backpacks and binders alike. 

The same deal as that fluttering in your chest every time she looked up at you at the local pool, eager to see if you’d witnessed her flip beneath the water. The same deal as all the nights you’d cried into your pillow after being pestered about if any boys at school caught your eyes, because you knew they hadn’t and they never would. Your eyes were already too busy, completely captured by the sight of the brunette now pressing her lips against yours. 

None of the boys at school could ever compare. 

Passion fruit and strawberry mingles within the short peck, freckled cheeks and nose smashing against yours in the most awkward fashion possible. It could be weird; it should be weird. 

It’s not. 

When you pull away, Robin is completely stunned into silence for quite possibly the first time in her life. And her lips are shining with some of your residual spit, and her cheeks are the perfect shade of rose that no actual flower could capture.

Mother Nature herself could never replicate the girl in front of you. The girl you’d been best friends with for six years now, the girl you’d pined relentlessly for for just as long. 

Only you’d just recently realized it. Somewhere between the lip smackers exchange and the movie night in which you’d intertwined your legs on the couch and felt the weight of her between your hips as she’d passed out. 

Looking at her now sort of feels like realizing it all over again. Sort of like looking out over a precipice, and taking a deep breath, because you know you’re leaping off the cliff. No scared looks over your shoulder, no hesitation as you throw your foot out into mid-air. 

The kind of rush you’ve never felt with a boy, and never will. 

“Was that…” she whispers, voice hoarse before she clears it, batting her gorgeous lashes and taking the shakiest of breaths, “Was that good?”

“I dunno,” you lie, “I think we should try again.” 

It’s like a dance, you soon realize. Following her steps, guiding her with your own. She slides her way up closer, and you press your back against your headboard. Her hands are shaking when they brush your outer thighs, and your blood is racing as you tug on her elbows to guide her to straddle your lap. 

You both had said, after all, you needed to learn to be better kissers. That you couldn’t leave high school without having shoved your tongue down someone’s throat at least once. Your words, not hers. 

Your desperate attempt to make sure that someone was Robin Buckley. Your pitiful attempt to have the one thing you don’t think you’ll ever be allowed to hold. 

The weight of her on your lap is nice. The feeling of her lips returning to yours is nice. The way neither of your hands know where to go as you let your lips linger together a few seconds longer than the first time is nice. 

It’s far nicer than Connor from English could ever make you feel. It’s far nicer than that poor boy at the diner ever was, though he tried his best. 

You’re the brave one, when it’s all said and done. You’re the first one to let your palms settle at her hips, squeezing ever so gently to feel the softness beneath slot perfectly into your hold. You’re the first one to timidly include tongue, parting both your lips, trying to ignore the shivers running up your spine as all you can taste now is passion fruit lip smackers. 

Even with your own lip balm, you know your lips are horribly chapped. Dreadfully thirsty and desperate to absorb all the love you know isn’t yours to claim at this moment. Chapped lips, quivering hands, shaking breaths. Unsure movements and the ringing question in the back of your head of am I doing this right? 

Is she feeling what I’m feeling? 

Maybe she is, maybe she isn’t. But she’s kissing you back. Her tongue is meeting yours in movements that are nothing like the movies, shy baps that you both will probably laugh about later. Kitten licks to test the waters. 

And then there’s the retreating. The rock of her body as she settles her weight closer to your knees, and her tongue is put away in favor of just letting her lips slot between yours in slow and lazy movements. You can feel every deep breath she takes through her nose between the kisses, you can smell her perfume seeping into your psyche every moment she spends so close to you. 

The only lesson being learned right now is that you were an idiot. You were an absolute fool, and you are absolutely in love with your best friend.

“Better?” she questions when she pulls away entirely, and you try not to whimper. Try not to show her how badly you want this, need this. 

You hate the silence and you nearly wish she’d start babbling again. You wish she’d give you a reason to kiss her and shut her up, if for nothing more than to taste passion fruit and yearning all over again. 

You’re quiet for a few beats, staring at her as your chest heaves and your heart begins to twist up into terrible shapes. “I… Yeah. Yeah. I think we’re getting the hang of it, don’t you?” 

“Oh, absolutely,” her nervous smile breaks, and you wish she wouldn’t continue the thought, but she does, “You’re gonna be a pro in no time, breaking boys hearts left and right when you kiss them like that.” 

You don’t want to break a boy’s heart. You want to break hers – you want to entirely implode her heart the way she has yours, and have the honor to know it was mutual. A mutual destruction you both dove into headfirst. You only want to kiss Robin like this, forever. You only ever want to know how right her hand feels in yours, not some guy who can’t even choke out the right words to invite you to the cinema. 

You want, and you want, and you want. 

And just as you bite your tongue, decide against pouring out all your affections all over your bed sheets and pulling her right back into you again, desperate to share air with her and only her, you can hear your front door slamming over. 

Robin has never moved so quickly in her life. Jumping off your lap, leaping to the edge of the bed as a feverish blush overtakes her entire body. As though she might be embarrassed, as though she might be regretful. 

You still haven’t moved from your position, back sticky with sweat against the headboard, when your parents walk past your open door and say hello. 

They probably don’t even hear your sad and quiet excuse of a returned greeting, too enraptured by Robin’s own excited quip of saying hi. 

Your parents love her. Adore her in a way parents should care for their child’s closest confidant. They treat her like their own daughter, and Robin’s parents do the same for you. Once a month, your mothers meet up for mimosas over brunch and probably giggle about how lucky their girls are to have one another. 

You get it. You love her too. But certainly not in the way you should love your best friend. 

They finally leave, and Robin is quick to turn to you, eyes shining with all the stars and sunshine the Universe could have to offer, “That… um, thank you.”

“For what?” you laugh breathlessly, finally shifting forward, looking down at your thighs that had served as a temporary home to the girl who holds your heart, trying to swallow down any shame and all that rapid longing. 

“For… you know,” she smiles, a secret for the two of you to only ever keep, never sharing with the world. Selfishly, you almost enjoy the sentiment, “I’m sorry I was acting so weird about it before. You were right, it didn’t have to be weird unless we made it weird. I’m lucky to have you as my best friend, you know? And like I said, if you’re…. You know, doing that with boys, you’re going to be a certified heartbreaker. The world isn’t ready for my best friend. Besides! Another thing checked off the list, right?” she pauses, and you swear the smile has gone sad, but you can’t risk the projection, “Now we can both say we’ve done… that… before graduation! And-”

You speak before you can think better of it, interrupting her entirely, “I think I need more practice.” 

She stops in her tracks, eyebrows raising wildly and eyes turning to saucers, “What?”

“I think…” your head reels, desperate to come up with an excuse to kiss her again. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but eventually. “I think I need more lessons, yeah? Like, I don’t know. More practice,” Oxygen evades you in desperation, giving your best puppy dog eyes, system in overdrive as you stare at her lips and your voice drops to a careful whisper, “My parents are out of town next weekend… Maybe we could try again then? Same time?” 

You swear her smile shifts, and you hadn’t even noticed the ingenuity in it previously until she dazzles you with one that must be real. As if you’ve just made her year, lightened her load, offered over your first born to the darling girl. 

“Well….” she moves her eyes across the room, focusing on a polaroid photo of the two of you pinned to the wall above the desk, “I mean, we did say lessons, plural. I can see if Steve will cover my shift on Saturday night if that works?” 

Am I doing this right? 

“That definitely works.”

Is she feeling what I’m feeling?

“Perfect. It’s a…. date, then.” 

“It’s a date.” 

It’s not. Only to you, never to her. 

But it’ll be enough. It’s enough to know next Saturday, she’ll be back here, in your bed and in your lap, getting that passion fruit chapstick all over your lips and shaking your chest from the inside out until it’s ready to burst. 

One day, you might be the brave one, when it’s all said and done. You’ll tell your best friend all the ways she feels so nice, and all the ways you want to capture that niceness in a bottle for the rest of your days. You’ll tell her the way you have no interest in the boys at school and how you’re cursed to forever be the heartbroken, never the heartbreaker, and only ever at her hand. The very same one clasping yours as she stands at your front door, thanking you vaguely once more, grinning ear to ear as she gives you three tight squeezes that are completely lost on you. 

Today’s not the day, though. Today is the day where you spend the night in your self-made cage, face buried in the pillow, noises somewhere between desperately muffled screams of frustration and dry sobs of torture leaving your lips as you picture the way she’d looked after the kiss. Her eyes softly shut, her lips still puckered, her neck entirely exposed as she tilts her chin back to look at your ceiling through her eyelids. Picturing the way that next time, you’ll try to convince her the two of you should learn the art of neck kisses. Picturing the way that next time, maybe you’ll grab her hips a little harder or let your hands wander a bit farther to her thighs. 

Tonight is the night you have no idea amongst your pity party, that Robin Buckley is on the other side of town, experiencing the exact same turmoil as she longs for the girl who tastes like her gifted strawberry lip smackers – the very same one Steve Harrington berated on her to get rid of when she’d vomited out all the ways she hates fake strawberry flavoring, but you love it, and she’d convinced herself if she bathed herself in enough of it, you might just want her the way she wants you. 

Tonight’s not the night, though. 

One day, the kissing lessons will simply be kisses. One day.

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[starkeygirlposts]

Goosebumps in my sleeve

CH. 1

-----

So glad you guys loved the snippet last night! Here is the full fic! This is going to probably be a 2-3 chapter story. I hope it lives up to your expectations! Please interact and let me know!

Summary: You've been dating Rafe Cameron for 3 years, and one day Ward and your mom tell you they're getting married.

*In this story, Rafe kills Peterkin after accidentally shooting Sarah

Pairings: Rafe Cameron x fem!reader, toxic!rafe x reader

Trigger warnings: stepcest, underage, drugs, pregnancy, noncon, swearing, pregnancy, mentions of abortion, p in v sex, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, domestic violence, underage

Playlist:

Braided by Emily Rowed

Highlights by Sasha Alex Sloan

Atlantis by Seafret

Upside of Down by SVRCINA

----

You'd had a mundane life until your dads affair came to light when you were sixteen years old. He'd met a women on a business trip flight, explaining it as a "connection he didn't have with Y/M/N." He'd explained his infidelities away by saying your mom paid him little attention, embarrassed him in front of their friends, belittled him, and said the love between them ceased to exist; solely because of your mom.

It wasn't like you knew the ins and outs of your parents love life as a teenager, but what you saw - or what they chose to show you, didn't seem like what your dad made it out to be. But there are always 3 sides to every story, so who were you to judge?

Especially when you'd ignored all the warnings you'd been given to stay clear from Rafe Cameron, much less date him. He was a senior and you were a freshman and people already had enough to say about that.

You'd began attending parties at his house during your freshman year of high school, and the playful flirtation between the two of you continued for a year before he finally made a move that the two of you couldn't come back from.

He was on the lookout for you every Friday or Saturday night, always a prepared favorite drink of yours ready in a red solo cup. He'd follow you around his house if not with his feet, with his eyes until one day his fingertips grazed your arm and draped down to your finger and tangled them together, showing to not only you, but everyone else around you that it was game over.

He'd taken you up to his room that same night and he ground his hips so deeply into yours that you were sure you lost your virginity that night. After telling your friends, who'd only laughed at your naivety, you realized you very much did not, and then you truly realized when the next Saturday night, he'd taken you to his room and peeled the clothing from both of your bodies and you'd connected as one. The way his fingers caressed your cheeks, your hair, your body, it was the biggest question in your mind why anyone would think Rafe Cameron was any bit the bad boy they had all made him out to be.

Talking about how quick to temper he was, how hot headed, how impulsive, how vulgar.

You had never witnessed any of that in your three years together. Whether he'd kept you at arms length or whether all it took was you coming into his life to change him, you weren't sure.

But today, Rafe Cameron who became your boyfriend when you were sixteen years old was not the Rafe Cameron who people referred to your step-brother at eighteen.

The complete opposite, really.

Rafe had always gone out of his way to be the sweetest, most thoughtful boyfriend you could have wished for. Stealing kisses in the hallways before the bell would ring, making sure you were safely seated before padding off to be late to each and every period.

Bringing you flowers every Sunday night with your favorite pint of ice cream, and always keeping your bedside table stocked with your favorite genre books and your favorite sour candies.

Keeping his arm draped protectively over you at parties, tender kisses to your forehead when things got too rowdy, whisking you away for alone time as the crowd started to clear.

Caressing your body affectionately during intimacy, squeezing your skin just enough to leave gentle love marks, keeping you in his arms after bringing you over the edge, asking you if you were okay after every entrance, and after being too rough when he was extra needy.

Kissing you like he'd never see you again, holding your jaw in his palm and telling you how much he loved his beautiful girl.

There was no end in sight for the two of you, and after spending so much time together, your mom had asked to meet his dad. You didn't think any more of it than her wanting to know the man whose home you spent more than half of your days at. Your mom had become extra clingy after the divorce, and you tried to do what you could. Asking her if she wanted to watch her favorite show together on Tuesday nights, bringing home her favorite Chinese food on your way back from Rafe's on earlier nights. You knew the affair nearly killed your mom, but you did not expect her to begin to lean on none other than your boyfriends dad.

Ward was the perfect fill-in for your mom for a while. She was just having a good time, she'd told you. "He occupies my mind Y/N, does that make me such a bad mom?" Like you being upset with your mother being however which way involved with your boyfriends dad was so out-of-this-world believable. Truth was, yes it made her a bad mom. Not just because it put you and Rafe in an uncomfortable position, but because you were struggling yourself after having your family as you knew it blown apart.

But she wasn't just "having a good time." Or rather, maybe she was having too good a time. Because on a Thursday evening at the Cameron's dinner table with Ward, your mom, Rafe, Sarah and Weezie, Ward held your moms hand and told you all that they were getting married.

You think your heart stopped at his words, and your neck snapped to your side to look at Rafe before doing or saying anything to anyone else. His eyes flashed to yours, and above your head, connecting with his father's in an expression you could only imagine was pure hatred. Because Rafe could never live up to his father in any sense, and now he was taking away the one thing that kept his feet planted to the earth. Of course he was.

That day, your world fell apart, and Rafe started to become someone you soon would not recognize. Rafe's hand had slipped from your thigh, gone the tender loving warm fingertips, drawing lazy hearts on your skin.

Your whole body jolted when Rafe's chair scraped like nails on the tile flooring, as he darted from the table outside to his truck, leaving you to pick up the pieces. How badly you'd wanted to chase after him. But when your eyes connected with Ward's, the decision was already made for you.

You didn't even need to ask.

"Unless you want to live with your father in California, you and Rafe will stop whatever it is you two have going on." Ward had told you.

"Whatever we have going on? We've been dating for three years!" You practically shout.

"Y/N!" Your mother shrieks, "Have some respect!" And you can see the tears shining in her eyes, a mirror of your own. Ward'd hand squeezes your mother's tighter, and he whispers to her that "it's okay, honey, it's going to take a moment to process."

You looked to your mom as if she'd help you - feel some semblance of remorse for you. Tears were streaking down your face now, your finger gripped to your napkin on your lap like you were suffocating it. You'd met Rafe first. Three years ago. You'd been the only reason your mother even met Ward. But why should you be so surprised that what she wanted was more important than your happiness?

From that day on, Rafe started slowly slipping from you. You'd told him what Ward had told you, expecting him to scoff and tell you how he only thought he'd stay away from you. But that was exactly what Rafe began to do. Once you received the news, you and your mom were moving into Tanney Hill, your bedroom just across the hall from Rafe's. A bitter tease dangling in front of you. The love of your life, your best friend, your saving grace, so close but so far, sworn away from you.

Rafe started to become a hollow shell of the boy you loved so deeply and painfully. Loving him so hard physically caused your heart to ache, watching him from a distance fall away from you, and out of love with you felt like your body slowly shutting down. Like your brain was shutting off and the rest of your organs being deprived of the oxygen it needed to keep functioning. Your hands ached to touch his body, hold his hand in your own. You watched as he'd drink himself to sleep every Friday and Saturday night, seated on the living room sofa 90% of the night with Topper and Kielce, using his AMEX black card to line the cocaine before rolling up a hundred dollar bill and snorting into his left nostril, jolting his head back and pinching his nostrils as his eyes screwed closed, before opening back up and meeting yours.

You'd hold his stare until your feet walked you in front of him with your hands on your hips, brushing the beers to the floor and bending down to meet your eyes at the same level.

"Y/N, you want me to stop? What, to make you happy? What do you do anymore that makes me happy?" You'd touch his cheek and guide his head down to make his eyes meet yours, and you'd stare into them - hoping for a shimmer of your boyfriend to snap back and remember.

He'd shrug away from you, his shoulder harshly snapping back and his hand brushing yours off to leave you watching his hair fall over his eyes as he'd resume slowly killing not only himself, but you too. But this brutal coldness didn't stop him from sneaking into your room past midnight to have sex with you. Not that you wish he'd stop, because you so badly craved his touch, eager for it any way he'd offer it. Mean, rough, kind, tender; you'd take any of him just to feel connected.

He'd almost always wait by your closed door for you to sit up in your bed, his invitation that it was okay to come to you. But some nights, he'd be so impatient to touch you, the alcohol and drugs adding to his hunger to be close to you.

You had almost gotten caught a handful of times, whether it be Sarah or your mom, knocking because they were sure they’d heard something, Rafe nearly knocking over everything on his way to shuffle himself into the closet.

You’d put off the conversation with Rafe about why the two of you needed to continue on like this, but you knew Rafe would never willingly disobey his father, and when you told him that Ward had threatened to ship you off to California, Rafe told you there was no way that was happening. But this was before the drugs consumed all of his extra time, before he’d started picking fights with anyone who would dare to fight back, before he’d become a ticking time bomb. Now, you weren’t sure he’d care if you fell off the planet. Gone were the times he’d tell you how much he loved you, how beautiful you were, how he didn’t care about what his dad said, that you were his girl, and he’d fight for you.

That did happen after that night at the dinner table. When Rafe finally arrived back at Tanney Hill, he’d found you in the library with Ward, discussing things and when he heard the same words that Ward had told you, he didn’t dare to speak up. But when you were alone, he told you not to worry about it, that you’d be okay and it wouldn’t change anything. That you just had to be careful and wait until you were eighteen and you would get a place together and not need his dad or your mom and you could have your own lives. But that didn’t exactly happen the way you two had planned. With the hunt for the cross at the forefront of absolutely everything, everyone was on edge, constantly battling with one another, making decisions that you couldn’t come back from.

It came to a head when Rafe had accidentally shot Sarah, and he slithered through the front door of the estate covered in blood and mud and you rushed to his side to search for where it was coming from, the worry sweating out of your pores, until he grabbed your arms too tight for comfort and told you to stop. You rubbed your arms as he shoved you off to the side, before climbing the steps to his bathroom to clean up. Your eyes followed him all the way up, tears springing forward, before the noise behind you bringing you back and meeting eyes with your step father who would fill you in on it all. He’d told you how Rafe was not himself, how he was explosive and you needed to stay away from him at every turn. How he’d shot his sister, and that he didn’t care that he did. Your head lightly shook “no”, as the tears spilled over, splashing onto your chest as you broke down in Ward’s arms.

The boy you loved was seemingly gone, and not even his father could bring him back.

You’d seen the relationship between Rafe and Ward deteriorate, boiling over after Peterkin was killed. It was something you knew but couldn’t bring yourself to think about. There was only one reason Ward didn’t trust Rafe to do things on his own after she was gunned down. You knew Rafe had access to guns and you knew Peterkin stood in the way of your family getting the gold off of the island. It didn’t take a genius to put two and two together. But would you ever ask about it? Never. Because that wasn’t the Rafe you loved. He couldn’t have done that. So he simply didn’t. That’s what you told yourself anyway.

You remember back to that night in particular, nearly 2 months ago, after he’d cleaned himself up and Ward had asked you to bring his dinner up to his room. You cautiously hammered your fist onto his bedroom door, not even getting the second rap in before it swung open, the wind blowing back your hair and his face only inches from yours, his pupils blown and his hands on your arms, dragging you into the room with him. “Put it down”, he’d told you and you placed the tray with his dinner onto the ottoman in the corner of the room, before his hand turned your body back around to him, crashing his lips to yours while holding your hips, squeezing feverishly.

“Rafe, you’re hurting me.” You’d tried to say, pushing your body backward, his hands coming up to hold your lower back to drag you closer.

“Shut up.” He spun you both around before moving his hands to your shoulders to shove you down onto the bed, before running his hands up your calves and thighs, dragging your linen dress with them, all the way up until your breasts were exposed and his hands roughly squeezed them, earning a mumbled cry of pain.

“Rafe, stop!” Your hands gripped his wrists as you tried to pry them off of you before his hand came up and slapped you across your face. Your mouth hung open and tears sprung to your eyes and you brought your hand up to slap him back. His hands caught both of your wrists and forced them up by the sides of your head, before bringing his face down to yours.

“I fucking want you, can’t you see that? I need you right now, y/n."

“Fuck you, Rafe! I’ve been here this entire time!” You’re breath is a whisper but your seething at him and his chest is rising and falling rapidly, eyes boring into yours, tears brimming his eyes before connecting his lips with yours and letting go of your wrists to drag your panties to the side and shove two fingers inside you.

“Oh my god. Jesus.” Your head rises off the mattress to meet him now that he’s hanging above you, before wrapping your hands around his neck and dragging him back down to you and panting into his mouth. Breath hot, you tell him you need him too.

His fingers move in and out of you, curling to pet the spongey spot inside of you over and over, your voice mewling “please’s” and “oh my god, yes” until you hear him shuffling with his pants, and your feet come up to hook into the sides of his pants, helping him drag them down his legs.

“Please get inside me.” You beg, your voice a strained sigh of relief mixed with utmost pleasure as his fingers leave your core to replace them with his cock. Your whole body rises off the bed, your chest meeting with his, nipples like daggers against his skin as he sinks down until he bottoms out and he groans. You’re nearly positive the entire house can hear you, but after what’s gone on tonight that you have no idea about, you’re not sure anyone actually cares.

His breath is hot against your face, and he’s watching you with intensity you don’t know if you’ve ever seen in his eyes before, his hips pulling back only to push back twice as slowly, the glide of his cock in your slick heat pulling the deepest moan from your throat, and you moan the prettiest “oh” the thinks he’s ever heard. Your nails are gripping his biceps, now hooked under your knees, his palms by your head, thighs spread back nearly to your chest and you look down to watch him drag himself out of you achingly slow before he tells you to “look at me” and you do, your eyes meeting his and you’re both crying together, tears falling and noses dripping. Your pussy is throbbing and your hands are clutching, your mouth moaning and your heart dying.

You’ve continued this sick relationship with Rafe for a year, growing into adults together in the most backward way. Sneaking around, falling out of love, but staying so desperately in love with who he used to be, begging him to get clean, trying to understand him, keep him from killing himself, trying to mend the relationship between him and his father; or rather, trying to salvage what was left of it.

You couldn’t imagine stopping, though. You couldn’t give him up - not really, not the way you were supposed to. You would have been an embarrassment to the Cameron name if you had continued dating your now step-brother. Even though people were aware of your relationship prior to your mom and Ward getting together. Marriage precedes dating, and so they won the battle. You think that this was Rafe’s way of fighting for you. Or rather, fighting his dad for you. Because he’d taken you away from him, so instead of being an embarrassment to his father by dating his step-sister, he’d become the drug addict family fuck up instead. You knew the truth though. Rafe had never experienced love until you. And then his father took that away, just like he did everything else in Rafe’s life.

“You know I love you, Rafe. I will always love you.” You tell him, taking longer than intend to, your breath short and sad.

He doesn’t say anything back to you, but his hand catches your jaw and he brings your face to his, lips in a sneer. “You will always be mine. You can try to act like you aren’t, but you are. I fucking own you. I will always own you.” He tells you before kissing your lips. You pull back and grasp his wrist in your hand.

“I know you love me, too. Say it, tell me you love me. Fucking say it."

You feel him cum inside of you before he manages to say anything, remorse filling your blood stream and your eyes shut tightly at the bitter defeat. You’d allowed him into your body and your heart without him having earned any of what you’d just confessed. You know he knows you still love him, and you know he still loves you. But he’s tried his hardest to show you that he doesn’t.

You tremble, over sensitive when his fingers find your cunt and push back inside, watching you with intent as he lazily glides his cum back inside of you. He’s watching you almost like he’s studying you, his head tilting when your head tilts in a mix of desire and discomfort, his fingers buried knuckle deep inside you. You gush around him and he kisses you, lips hovering over yours.

“Of course I love you, my beautiful girl. How could I not love you? Miss you so bad it fucking hurts."

That night tipped the see-saw of back and forth between the two of you, caution to the wind, Rafe would come to you more nights than not, and he’d fuck you on your bed before telling you how much he loved you and slipping out before the sun rose.

“Gonna get clean for you.” He told you one night, and you nodded under his palm as he held you close, begging him. “Please, Rafe. I can’t be in this by myself."

So when you'd texted Rafe to meet you in your room after dinner on Thursday night one year after your world truly blew apart, he locked the door behind him and the black in his eyes told you he couldn’t keep his promise. You kept hold of his gaze until his knees hit the bed, your small hand coming up to his chest before he could press his own to your sturnum before pushing you down, your other hand clutching your lifeline. You look up at him and when you lock eyes, he understands, because he takes your hand from his chest and squeezed it in his own before leaning down to touch his lips to yours.

"I miss you, baby. My beautiful girl."

You want to yell at him, swat his hands away as they come up to cradle your face, but you’re too overwhelmed, too hormonal, too busy in your mind to do anything but melt into his warm touch, safe and protected.

His breath comes hot against your mouth, his scent so familiar and home to you. You can't stop the tears from falling, your hand loosening from his hand to hold onto his forearm that connected to the fingers clutching your cheek tenderly but firmly in place, kissing you like he really does love you again.

How badly you missed him, too.

"Rafe, please..."

Your hand falls and one of his breaks from your cheek, and you take this moment to capture his hand with your fingers and place the stick into his palm. His eyes break away from yours to look down at what you've given him, and you watch with tears streaming down your face as his brows furrow, his feet shuffling to back up and you brace yourself.

He doesn't react how you expect him to, though. He stares so deeply down into his palm that when his eyes do reconnect with yours, confusion in his own eyes, his head tilting just the slightest and you're trembling, waiting for the shoe to drop. He sniffs, rubbing his nose, clearing any remains of his relapse out of your sight. His mouth opens before closing, brow furrowing as he snorts, a half chuckle, his hand coming up into his hair to rake his bangs back, scratching the back of his neck.

"This...this is a -- you're..." His eyes screw up shut and he shakes his head like he's imagining things and he's crazy. "A baby?" He finally asks, looking up at you again and you can only nod.

"My baby?" He asks again, and you nearly scoff, because really? Was he kidding? Who else was sneaking into your room after midnight, invading your body and your heart?

"Yes, Rafe, I'm pregnant with your baby.” You tell him, seething before standing and he's still shaking his head, eyes bunching up as if he's being told the craziest thing in the world - because really, he is. But you've sat with this for the entire day and while your reaction wasn't as confused, you too felt the familiar disbelief.

You watch his chest rise and fall, deep breaths in and out before you're in a whirlwind and he closes the distance between you and pulls you to him, tucking your head underneath his chin, the back of your skull rested protectively in his large palm. His lips are at your forehead when he tells you

"I'm going to take care of it."

You raise your head from his hand and your eyes lock on his to question him. “What does that mean? Take care of it?” You’re suddenly timid, your hand instinctively coming to rest on your lower abdomen.

“They’re not keeping me from my kid, y/n. Fuck that.” He tells you, watching your eyes soften and thank god. Not that you would have been surprised if Rafe suggested you take care of it. Now that you have a moment to collect yourself, you realize it’s actually what you expected from him. Maybe not from the sweet boy who held your hand on the beach when you were sixteen, but from the man who stood before you now.

“You want this?” he suddenly asks you, and you look up at him after realizing your eyes are locked on his chest, and you tell him honestly. “I don’t know what to do with a baby, your baby…we - how can we keep this baby?” You whisper, eyes pleading wide and scared, suddenly full of fear and you try pulling away from him, but his arms lock around you and keep you steady to him as you huff with exhaustion. “Rafe, please let me go, I need to go, I…"

“Shhhh, it’s okay, I’ve got you, it’s okay, baby I promise it’s going to be okay.” He tells you and you believe him, high or not, you cling to him, fingers tugging at his shirt, your tears and snot mixing together on the fabric, not caring how you look or how you sound, because what the fuck are you going to do now?

“Y/N, please don’t cry. I’m going to make this okay. I swear, I’m going to make this okay.” You look up and into the eyes of your whole world. The boy turned man that you so deeply love. Your boyfriend turned step brother. The one whose hands are bloodied from trying to protect his father who ripped everything away from him every chance he could. How can you believe him? Were you going to run away with a murderer who you’ll knowingly harbor for the rest of your life? What you don’t truly know will kill you - you know that. You know you’d pick up and leave this place - your mom included if it meant being with Rafe. You’d told him that the night he came back after the wedding bomb. But he couldn’t tell you the same, and so he’s ridden down this path of self destruction, danger, evil, and crime just to protect the one person who has caused him so much pain. And not only him, but you too.

You could handle being hurt by Rafe, and even by Ward. But you couldn’t handle the idea of carrying and birthing a perfectly innocent baby that was half you and half the wounded and hurting boy who just wanted to be loved by the only parent he had left. So only one question swirled in your mind.

Would he let his father cause your child pain, too?

——

NEXT PART

Please let me know what you think, and if you’d like to be added to the tag list!

[enkays-den]

Skizz Week 2, Day 4: Warm/Cool

@skizzlemanweek

1.3k, no warnings, Skizz, Grian, Gem, Scar, a pinch of Impy, Phasmophobia AU

Tonight was a rare session of ghost hunting without Impulse. Someone had gotten his construction appointment written down wrong and he’d ended up double-booked, and he’d rather miss out on a ghost sesh than wait another three weeks for a chance to meet with his contractor. Luckily, when Skizz has messaged the GIGGS group text, the other three were all available to help, making it a full party instead of solo Skizz night.

Their younger friends had been very excited in chat, sending ‘yay we get to hang with tall dad today!’ (Scar), ‘I can’t believe Impulse has abandoned his best friend’ (Grian), and ‘since it’s fun dad today, we get to stay up past midnight, right?’ (Gem).

Impulse didn’t reply to those messages, but he did send Skizz a private text.

😔 why?

They just miss you, buddy <3

It looks like the exact opposite…

Don’t worry, they’ll be begging for you to come back once I start telling my jokes.

haha, ttyl bud 😊

Skizz returned to the van, tossing a burnt smudge stick into their little trash can. Grian hated cleaning up the ash off the floor in the morning. “I am seriously considering just gagging this one as a mimic, I’m getting nothing from the looping.”

Gem was flicking between the camera feeds, but started to turn around to face Skizz. “Yeah, we’re getting no other activity from this thi– oh, you actually look like death.” 

“Gee, I feel so loved,” Skizz said sardonically.

Gem pulled out her radio. “Boys, we’re gagging mimic and you’re getting your butts here, Skizz is gonna die if he goes through another hunt.”

“Thank goodness,” Grian said, voice crackling through the hand set. “I told you guys it’s taking the mick out on us.”

“This ghost is no fun,” Scar agreed, rolling up the ramp. Does that mean that this is the last hunt of the night?”

“For Skizz? Yes.” Gem responded, leaving the van to help Grian collect their equipment from all around the hospital. 

Skizz took a folding chair from a rack on the wall and sat with Scar, slumping a little. You ever get a good look at the ghost, Scarface?”

“No, just one DOTS before it changed rooms,” Scar sighed, looking at their cheat sheet rubric of ghost types. “There’s a part of me that wants to say it’s a shade with how few hunts we’ve seen. We’ve been here for like, an hour and a half!”

The older man rubbed his face. He really did feel like crap. “Something like that. I feel like the pace during hunts was always changing, so that either means that I’m going crazy, or it’s twins or mimic.”

“Scar?” Grian’s voice came in through the radio. “Can you help me get some of this stuff to the van?”

“You don’t need to go, Scar. Let me do it.” Skizz leaned forward to stand up, but Gem chose that moment to speak into her radio.

“And no helping, Skizz. You just sit there.” 

Skizz picked up his radio. “It’s just one trip, Gemmer!”

Gem’s response was instant. “You. Stay.”

Scar giggled as he rolled out the truck.

“When did you get so bossy?”

The static of the radio rang out again. “I learned it from Other Dad.”

Sighing, Skizz grabbed a pair of drumsticks from his bag and starting running through one of his old routines on a clipboard he placed on his lap. 

After a few minutes, Grian’s distinctive accent sounded from outside, muffled by distance. “Guys, it’s over, he’s drumming. Might as well just drop him home.”

“What? You stop that talk!” Skizz threw his sticks in the corner, intentionally making the most chaotic clattering he could.

“And now he’s throwing things,” Gem complained. “He’s like a baby in his highchair.”

The three other hunters entered the van, laden with cameras, mics, and other devices. Grian started putting things back in their holders or charging batteries, and Gem walked over to Skizz.

“You’re still really pale,” she noted. Putting the back of her hand to his forehead, she frowned. “Skizz, you’re literally freezing!”

“Am I?”

Grian touched his head as well. “Yup. Cold as my hometown.”

Gem sighed. “I thought you’re supposed to be the one looking after us.”

Scar went over to his things and pulled out a heat pad he usually used for his back and put it into the tiny microwave they had in the truck. 

“You need to get this jacket off and get a jumper on or something.” Grian said, tugging the cheap faux-bomber jacket off the older man’s shoulders.

“There’s a fleece I use in that compartment under the backseat,” Scar said, testing the temperature of the pad with his hands.”

Grian nodded and left the truck to fetch it.

Gem took the jacket and felt it in her hands, grimacing. “Skizz, if you were in Canada with this thing, you’d die.”

“It’s just the first thing I grabbed,” he protested.

Their radios buzzed. 

“Alright, lads,” Grian said. “I’m turning on the truck to warm up the front, let’s get Skizz and Scar in the back seat. The cargo box of the truck shook a little as Grian turned on the ignition. When did he take Skizz’s keys? He really was tired.

“Come on,” Gem prompted, pulling Skizz up and strapping the folding chair back to the wall. 

Grian reappeared, taking the heating pad from Scar and wrapping it up in the fleece he’d fetched. Once Gem and Skizz were out of the box, Grian slid the ramp away and shut the door. 

With Skizz lifting under his arms and Grian holding his legs, Scar was lifted into the back of the cabin, his chair folded up and placed behind him. Skizz then piled in, followed by Gem. 

Grian got in the driver’s seat and cranked the heat. He turned around in his seat to face the three in the back. “Doesn’t really seem like we’re gonna do another hunt, fellas.”

“No, let’s get Skizz home,” Gem agreed. She was trying to finagle the fleece blanket around Skizz and the seatbelt. Scar was strapping the heat pad to the back of Skizz’s shoulders.

Skizz was feeling instantly better. He tucked his hands underneath his legs to warm them up. “You okay driving this thing, G? I know Dipple Dop has only given you a few lessons.”

“I’ll find a way to your house that doesn’t take the highway,” Grian said absently, scrolling on his phone.

“Grian, do you have your British tea? Could you spare some for Skizzy?”

Grian passed back a thermos, which Skizz sipped from gratefully.

“I feel so pampered,” he joked. 

“We’re saving your life!” Scar said dramatically. “We can’t let Skizzy freeze out on the field!”

“iDad would be so disappointed,” Grian said, pulling onto the road. 

“Oh, he’s going to be disappointed regardless, I’m telling him that Skizz almost froze to death,” Gem said, trying to act cool but Skizz could hear the smile in her tone.

Skizz reached out with both arms and brought Gem and Scar closer to him. “Well at least I have you guys to be there for me. Love you!”

“Love you too, Papa Skizz!” Scar said happily, hugging him awkwardly.

“Me too,” Gem said, resting her head on his shoulder.

“What about me?” Grian complained. 

Skizz reached forward and clapped Grian on the shoulder with a large hand. “Course I love you, G!”

“Yeah,” Grian said enthusiastically. “That was a real Dad pat on the back!” He turned on the music player and groaned when the sounds of rock music filled the truck cabin. “Ugh, and a real Dad playlist.”

In the end, Gem didn’t tell Impulse what happened when they got to their house. She called him and told him on the way back.

I’m changing your contact name to ‘Blizzleman’ ;)

I’m more insulted you’re not even coming up with a good play on words >:[

[ahdraftingco]

pairing: hard dom!joel miller x desperate!reader

ao3 crosspost: https://archiveofourown.org/works/44445643

rating: explicit (minors DNI)

word count: 7.8k+

summary: joel is your only hope, unfortunately. you and him aren't on the best of terms…not after you left him for dead during a smuggling run. but, he's the only one you can turn to when there's no one left in your life that gives a fuck, so you swallow your pride and ask for help from the man who hates your guts. 

a/n: as always please read through ALL the warnings before proceeding: porn with plot, **dubious consent**, hard dom!joel miller, enemies to lovers, heavy angst (be ready for feels!), age gap, jealousy, possessive behavior, size difference, breaking and entering, use of the words "sir"/"princess", dom/sub undertones, death threats, degradation, spit, praise kink, forced orgasms, squirting, spanking, bdsm, choking, knife play, unprotected piv, breeding kink, body worship, minor injuries/scars, hair-pulling, alcohol mention, drug abuse (sleeping pills), hurt/comfort, no use of y/n 

enjoy this little one-shot I whipped up in the moment! it's been raining and I love the idea of being stuck in the rain with nowhere else to go except to your worst enemy's home ;) have a fun read! 

｡ﾟ🌨｡ ﾟ ｡⋆ ﾟ petrichor (n.): the earthy scent produced when rain falls on dry soil ｡ﾟ🌨｡ ﾟ ｡⋆ ﾟ 

You're about to do something very stupid. Though, it's not like that's atypical for you. You're used to doing impulsive things, but this…this is just downright idiotic. 

Breaking into Joel Miller's apartment in the middle of a hurricane may take the cake of shit you really should not do in your lifetime. You reason to yourself that you'll hide there until you dry off and then you'll find some other place to fuck off to. He should be asleep so you'll have at least a few hours if he took the pills. He loves those pills. They're the only thing that will get him to sleep. 

You remember being on the road with him, out to pick up the very pills he was used to taking and smuggling them back. To think, he actually lived after you left him for dead. In your defense, you're younger and the moment those slavers caught up to him, you weren't going to stop running in hopes of saving him. 

You both were only business partners, anyways. You were the liaison, he was the muscle. That's all you were. Nothing else. 

Even the few times you both were bored out of your minds, waiting for a contact, the sex was to kill time. It wasn't bad, but there wasn't any feeling in it. Neither of you can feel much. You've lost enough and so has he. You both kept your distance from getting too close and that's why it worked, your little partnership.

That is, until you left him for dead. 

Ever since he managed to get back, you haven't taken a single big smuggling job. You've completely cut yourself from the network because you don't want to deal with the wrath of Joel Miller. You settled for solo trips between cities to deliver smaller items, like letters between loved ones. The work didn't pay well and it was dangerous, but it was all you could do in the meantime. 

You heard Joel was heading out of town for some job and he won't be back for a long while. That'll be when you can reintegrate yourself into the smuggling scene, without the fear of being murdered by him.

You've spent so much time avoiding him, and now you're about to throw all that away because you're fucking freezing your ass off in the pouring rain and you need a place to go that isn't flooded. All your usual spots are filled to the brink with water and you haven't had your own place in quite some time. Rent is too expensive and you don't need a space to call your own anyways.

Back to the matter at hand, this isn't the first time you've snuck into Joel's apartment. 

You've done it three times. 

The first time, it was to steal some of his booze. It was a long day with no pay at the end of it because your contact fucking cheaped out and got killed so you needed a drink and you weren't going to ask him for one. Steal first, beg for forgiveness later, though he never did find out.

The second time, you needed some pills. Sure, you could buy your own, or pocket a few on your runs, but you knew Joel kept the good shit for himself, so you snatched some and replaced them with counterfeits. They weren't going to kill him. Or, well, they didn't. You weren't actually sure if they were safe or not, but at that moment, you didn't really care. 

People die all the time. What's one more death? 

As for the last time you snuck into his apartment…it's the reason why you would never want to do it again. It didn't feel good. You can't explain it but you forgot why you were there in the first place the moment you saw Joel and Tess together. You watched from the fire escape outside the bedroom window as Joel held her more tenderly than he has ever held you. You wondered then if she meant something to him. 

You wondered then if you ever meant something to him. 

Maybe that's why you left him for dead. He didn't need you. He had Tess. You had no one but yourself to protect. 

You hope—prayed—Tess wasn't there now. You don't know what you'd do if she was. 

Could you still sneak in, or would seeing them together again break you once more? 

You don't understand why it pains you as much as it does. Envy, you think, that must be it. You envy that Joel has someone he can hold like that, someone who can hold him like that, while you're all alone, cold and soaked in the rain. 

You're sick and tired of this fucking rain, so you decide to say fuck it and sneak in. 

If Tess is there, so be it. You'll live. Maybe. 

With a quick spin of your lockpick, you easily get the bathroom window open, sliding quietly inside. The apartment is still and silent, so you're certain they're asleep if they are here. You take the moment to strip your clothes off, half because they're wet beyond salvageability, half because they'll be too loud for you to sneak into Joel's closet to take some spare clothes. 

You dry yourself off with what you assume must be his towel because it smells musky with a hint of cigarettes and whiskey. You then make your way out of the bathroom, opening the door as slowly as you can so that it doesn't creak. It's fucking cold since you're completely naked, but you fight back the shivers as you tiptoe into the living room. 

You hold in a sigh of relief when you see the bed is empty and Joel is asleep, alone, on the couch with an empty glass of whiskey on the table near him. He's knocked out. You should be fine for a few hours, like you predicted. 

You still keep your guard up, being as stealthy as possible as you rummage through his closet for something to wear. You manage to find a shirt and some sweats that fit you decently and socks. You're very thankful for the socks. 

Now, all you have to do is decide where you're going to hole up for the next few hours. You contemplate laying underneath the bed. You doubt Joel will check there for any reason and that way, you could maybe get some sleep since you'd be on your back. But, it's a bit too risky.

You could hang out in the closet, but he might need to look through it, so that's not the best option. Same goes for the bathroom. You'd have to be ready in case he needs to piss. 

So, you throw the idea of sleep out the window. You just need a place to chill and not get caught. 

Easier said than done, because the moment you decide to hide in the bathroom closet, arms wrap around your body and slam you to the hallway floor. 

You spit out the word "fuck" as you try to get yourself back up, but then you feel a knife press against your neck, sobering you up from the pain real fast. Joel holds you down with his entire body, consuming you completely as he towers over you like a wild beast.

"Don't fucking move or I'll slit your throat, princess." Joel's southern accent has such a bite to it that you get more goosebumps than when you were cold.

"Alright." You stay completely still as you tell him, "I just need to stay until the rain stops, then I'll go. I won't bother you again, Joel. I promise." 

"You've done enough bothering as it is." There's a tinge of anger in his tone and you know why it's there. "Why are you even here? Ain't you got somewhere else to be?" 

You slowly shake your head then admit, "I had nowhere else to go. Everywhere's flooded."

"What happened to your place?" He knew you back when you had one. Probably assumed you still had it. 

"Couldn't afford to keep living there. Haven't had a place of my own in a while." You don't know why you're being honest to him, but you're hoping it'll build some rapport so that he'll get off of you. "Will you please put the knife away?" 

"You aren't in a position to make demands." He presses the knife further into your neck with those words, the blade cutting into you just enough for you to really feel it. "You've got some fucking nerve, breaking into my place and stealing my clothes."

"I'm sorry, Joel." You're starting to feel the air sting the cut on your neck and you bite back a wince as you plead, "I really didn't have anywhere else to go. I just wanted to get out of the rain. You weren't even supposed to know I was here."

"You think I didn't know?" It sounds like you've ticked him off more with that. "I've let you steal from me enough times, but this time, you aren't getting away with it, princess."

This is news to you. "You…knew?" 

"You don't think I keep track of my whiskey and my pills?" He scoffs, irritated that you thought he wasn't going to notice. 

Then what about…you don't ask. You can't bring yourself to. 

If he knew you were there when he was with Tess, then Joel did it on purpose. He wanted you to see them together. He wanted you to suffer and yearn for a moment you could never have. Fucking asshole.

"You had plenty and you know it's hard for me to get shit." You retort, not allowing him to act so high and mighty. "They don't give a fuck about selling you alcohol or drugs because you're just a dying old man."

Right when you finish your sentence, Joel tosses the knife aside and before you can stop him, both of his hands wrap around your throat and press down hard. You gasp for air as he starts strangling you. You reach up with your hands, clawing at his arms, trying to get him the fuck off you, but he's so much stronger than you. He always has been.

"Is that all I ever was to you? A dying old man?" He spits in your face out of pure anger, making you flinch. "Is that why you left me there? Because you figured I'd be dead soon anyways, so why fucking bother? Do you know what those slavers did to me?" 

You blink back tears, not from the pain of being choked out, but because you knew. You heard what happened to Joel. How they used him as their punching bag. How they forced him to kill people for them in the most sadistic ways. How they stripped away the last shred of humanity left in him before he found the strength to slaughter them all. 

"I'm sorry." You breathe out meekly. "I'm so sorry…" 

"No, you ain't." Joel releases you from his grip then, allowing you to breathe. 

You swallow as much air as you can through your bruised neck. Every breath hurts but you're too desperate for air to care. Then, you start to sob because it's all too much. 

"I shouldn't have left you, Joel." You confess everything to him in a moment of weakness. "I should've stayed and fought them, but I was scared of getting caught by them. I know what they do to women like me…and I just…I couldn't…I'm sorry. I fucked up. I should've—"

"Get your ass up." Joel snaps his fingers and you listen to him all too reflexively, standing up beside him. "Now go over to the bed and bend over."

Your throat goes completely dry and you want to protest but…

"Listening to me right now is what you should do." He makes it clear that he won't repeat himself. 

So, you quickly run over to his bed and do as you're told, bending over so that your stomach is on the bed but your feet are planted in the ground. It's humiliating, having your ass up like this and not being able to see Joel staring at you. 

That's the point, you figure, since he goes, "now kick off your pants and spread your legs again just like that."

You freeze because…you really don't want to do that since you aren't wearing anything underneath. He doesn't like your hesitation at all. 

Suddenly, you feel him yank you up by your hair and he yells straight in your face, "do as I say or I'll hurt you worse than those slavers would have."

Joel finishes his threat by spitting in your face and you whimper in fear, nodding your head to show him you understand before you strip off your pants. He lets go of your hair and your face drops back onto the bed as your legs spread with your ass up, completely naked from the waist down.

"Now, present to me." He demands fiercely. "Use your hand and show me your pussy." 

You squirm, mainly out of embarrassment. You've never done anything like this before. It's degrading, dipping your dominant hand between your legs so you can hold open your folds so he can see all of you. You can't even tell where he's looking because he's directly behind you. 

Then, you let out a shocked gasp when you feel him spit right on your clit. It's wet and warm and you should feel uncomfortable but it tingles in the weirdest way. You shouldn't want any of this, but your pussy is starting to ache uncontrollably. 

"Poor little princess." Joel mocks you as his fingers trail along your bare ass. "It looks like it's been a while since someone's used this hole of yours." 

He isn't wrong, as humiliating as it is to admit. You've been on a dry spell since you left him for dead. You just couldn't bring yourself to have a fling, not with all the guilt. It's hard to get turned on when your thoughts won't stop haunting you.

It makes you wonder why you're feeling the heat rise in your body despite it all. You're almost certain you're getting wet. It's more than just his spit between your legs and that haunts you in a totally different way. 

"Tell me the truth." He addresses himself like he used to when the two of you would fuck. "Has no one touched you recently?"

You take in a deep breath before you answer, "no one, not even myself." 

"Why?" He asks, his fingers slowly making their way down the line of your ass, brushing along all of your sensitive skin with his rough fingertips. 

"I-I couldn't." You feel ashamed saying this but you do anyways, "I didn't want to feel good." 

"Is that why you've been taking those shitty courier jobs?" His words surprise you. 

Has Joel…been keeping tabs on you? 

"Someone has to do them." 

"Enough people have died doing them." He tells you as you feel a finger teasing your entrance. You quiver at his touch, stunned at how it contrasts with his words, "do you want to die, my princess?" 

You press your lips together and then, when you can't seem to hold it in anymore, you whisper, "yes, sir." 

His finger slips inside of you right then and your toes curl. It feels foreign because it's been a while but so familiar because it's Joel. Your body leans into the feeling as he grinds his finger against your g-spot. 

"Now, why would the girl who left this old man to die want to die now?" He asks as he bends over on top of you, engulfing you in his body. His hot breath lingers on your ear when he whispers, "are you scared to be alive in a world where I'm not dead?" 

Joel digs another thick finger inside of you, spreading you wide open. You bite the comforter, trying to ease the sudden mix of pain and pleasure that's coursing through your body.

"Answer me." He commands, grabbing you by the hair once again so he can yank you up, pulling you away from the hold you had on the blanket with your teeth. 

You don't know what to say. It's hard to think when he's stirring your insides like this while he taunts you for your past actions. You're a mixture of guilty and aroused right now. 

Your mind is so foggy which is why you start mumbling out your thoughts without a filter, "I'm not afraid of you, Joel. I don't mind if you hurt me for what I've done to you. I deserve it. I deserve…all of it, even death. It should've been me. I don't have anyone to live for. At least you had Tess so—"

Maybe mentioning her name is what got him mad, but Joel cuts you off from speaking by roughly fingering you faster. Your legs start to wobble as your orgasm builds, your body threatening to collapse in on itself. You can't say another word because every breath is occupied by a moan or a gasp for air. 

"Cum." Joel is stern and his fingers are unyielding. "Cum your fucking brains out, princess." 

Your orgasm spills out like a broken dam the moment he thrusts side to side, forcing your body to convulse inwards. He catches you before you collapse entirely, guiding you onto his lap. There, he wraps his arms around you, holding you as you navigate every wave of sheer intensity surging through you. 

You lean on him with your head buried in the crook of his neck, and Joel gently rubs your back, helping you calm down. Maybe that's why you feel secure enough to cry. You latch onto him and you just sob everything out, needing to release all the feelings built up inside of you since the moment you found out he'd never be yours. 

"I didn't want to leave you." You breathe out softly in between your tears. "I didn't want to admit that I was jealous of you and Tess. I didn't want to deal with it, with the fact that I was really all alone and you weren't. It's selfish but…I liked that you had no one else because it meant you were like me. When that wasn't the case anymore, I just…I panicked and ran and I left you for dead. I'm sorry, Joel. I'm so sorry. It's all my fault."

Your heart aches so terribly now that the pleasure has washed out of your system. It felt good to be touched by him again, even if it was under these circumstances. But, that fear creeps back in, the fear that he'll never touch you again, and you hold onto him tighter because of it, not wanting to let go. 

"Come here." He whispers, nudging you until you're straddling his lap. Then, he taps on his shoulder and instructs, "bite." 

You nod, listening to his orders, wondering if he even heard anything you just said. You pool the fabric of his shirt in your mouth, holding it with your teeth. You keep your head buried in his neck, unable to look at him after everything you confessed. 

That's okay, though. He doesn't need to see your face. Not for what's about to happen. 

You fully understand the moment you feel his cold hand grip your ass. He's keeping you steady for a reason. 

"No screaming." He warns and you nod, bracing yourself by biting down a bit harder.

The first spank is a test. It's not hard, but it's not light either. You squirm after he smacks your ass and unconsciously, your body grinds up against him. You realize then that he's hard underneath you, his cock bulging right through his sweats. 

Now, you're biting back a moan. 

"Good girl." He praises you for keeping quiet but then switches to a more sinister tone. "Now, I won't stop until you've been thoroughly punished. Do you understand, princess? Let me hear it."

You let go of his shirt from your mouth, shocked that it's already soaked in your drool, so you can answer, "yes, sir." 

Before you can get the fabric stuffed back in your mouth, Joel slaps you hard on the ass and you have to bite down on your lip to stop yourself from screaming. You hold in your whines and he rewards you by gently kneading your sensitive skin, easing you through the pain.

"I treat you well, don't I?" He asks and you nod in response, which is why he allows you the time to bundle his shirt back into your mouth. Then, he whispers, almost too quietly for you to catch, "then why did you run from me?"

Another smack connects with your ass and you quiver all over from the suddenness. You can feel how wet you've gotten because you've soaked his sweats, his cock pressing wet fabric up against your bare pussy. You want him inside of you. You can't resist it when you're right up against him like this.

But, you don't deserve it. You don't deserve him, not after what you did. So, you grip onto his back tightly with your hands, preparing yourself to endure whatever he wants to do to you. 

"Lift your hips." He pushes you upwards until you're no longer fully sat on his lap. "Now strip." 

You don't protest, pulling away from him once more so you can tug your shirt off, tossing it on the floor. You don't even remember being cold, not when your entire body is on fire right now. 

You watch as Joel scans every inch of your skin with his eyes, swallowing you up in his intense gaze. Then, when he has had his fill of looking at you, he demands, "show me that pussy of yours." 

As much as it kills you to do so, because the sheer thought sends heat through every inch of your skin, you lean back and use your hand to spread your folds to give him what he wants. It's hard to hold this position, but that's the point. He wants you to suffer both physically and mentally. It's what you deserve so you submit to it. 

"Look at your clit." His rough fingers brush against that bundle of nerves, rippling shockwaves through you. "It's begging to be touched with how swollen it is." 

You swore, you could feel more of your slick drip out onto your fingers when he said that. There's something in the way he draws you in with his words that forces your body to respond. It aches for him, truly. 

"Tell me what you want, princess." He teases your inner thighs, drawing circles there as he waits for your reply. 

You shouldn't say a word. You shouldn't want anything because you can't have it. 

But, you can't resist telling him, "I miss the way your mouth feels." 

That's the first time you see Joel smile all night. It's a light smirk, but a grin nonetheless. 

"Did you like the way I'd eat your pussy when we needed to kill time?" His words spark so much desire in you as the memories flood your mind.

It was lazy, the way Joel would rest with his head between your legs, spending hours exploring you with his tongue out of sheer boredom. Half the time, it was less for pleasure and more for comfort. It helped you sleep. It helped him sleep. Why? Neither of you knew, but if it worked, you both kept it up. 

"I liked it more than I should have." You whisper quietly into the night, hoping your words will be washed away from the heavy rain pouring outside. 

Suddenly, Joel tosses you onto your back on the bed and then buries his face between your legs. You gasp, not expecting to feel his warm tongue on your clit so soon, but he's impatient. You grab onto his hair as he swirls his tongue just the way you used to like it, making your mind all fuzzy from delight. 

"If you keep doing that…I'm going to…" You clamp your hand over your mouth, silencing yourself because you know it won't do you any good. He's not listening, anyways. 

You stifle your moans in your palm as Joel keeps ravaging your pussy. You can feel your orgasm building and it's a big one. You're going to explode and it scares you. 

You want to tell Joel to stop because you won't be able to handle it. You can't live with the thought of how good it feels to have him touch you like this. It's too much. Maybe that's why the tears pool up in your eyes.

"I can't." You try to push him away, begging him, "please, Joel, we can't do this…"

You can feel how close you are and it's taking every bit of your strength to edge yourself. You need to hold it in. You can't cum. You can't…because he isn't yours. 

This all ends tonight and you can't bear more memories of this. You avoided him for a reason…and now it's hitting you at full force. 

You feel something for Joel. You wouldn't call it love, but it's something. It's meaningful enough that it scares the living fuck out of you. 

"Please, stop." You shove at him, needing him to listen but he won't so you have to say what you must, even if it breaks your heart, "what about Tess? What would she do if she found out–"

"Shut up." He's quick with his retort, silencing you. "She has nothing to do with this, with us."

There is no us. You want to tell him that but it hurts too much to admit. 

So, instead, you confess something else, "I saw you, before our run. You made love to Tess. You held her more tenderly than you've ever held me. You can't…you can't throw that away. Please, Joel. Don't ruin a good thing."

"Fucking hypocrite." He curses at you, his southern accent peaking as he growls back at you, "you're the one who ruined a good thing. You're the one who slept with my fucking brother and now you're lecturing me about fucking someone else?"

You blink, stunned that Joel knows about that. It was a while ago. A long while ago. Maybe the third time you met Tommy. You both got drunk and slept together. It wasn't a big deal. It wasn't anything special. It was just a drunken one night stand that never happened again but you told Tommy that you both needed to keep it from Joel. It would just be better if he didn't know and Tommy agreed…

So, what changed? Did Tommy have a change of heart and tell Joel? 

Joel confirms it. "Tommy told me everything. Said he needed to confess his sins after he married his wife. And here I thought…" 

There's an expression on Joel's face that you can't quite parse. It's not anger. It's not resentment. It's just…pain. 

Heartbreak. 

You and Joel went to Tommy's wedding, since it was a stop on the way to one of the hubs you both had a job at. He made you dress up, which you never do but you did because it was a wedding and you'd never been to one before. You spent that night with Joel, shared a dance, talked about life before the outbreak. You were young when it happened, so you practically grew up in this world, knowing very little of the world before. 

The night came and went in a flash. You and Joel had stayed up, just mindlessly chatting together. You remember calling him handsome because you'd never seen him in a suit before. 

You had shoved the memory of him kissing you gently on the cheek before telling you to go rest for the day, since you both had to head out soon. It was a soft peck but it…it was unlike anything he'd done before. It was almost romantic and you couldn't fall asleep with that on your mind. 

Joel mentioned nothing of it when you both left Tommy's place. He didn't really talk much for the rest of that job. He did, however, fuck you roughly every now and then on the road. 

Boredom, he claimed. He liked toying with his submissive little princess. 

When you both got back, he got close with Tess and then you caught them sleeping together and the rest was history…right? 

Wrong. 

"I knew you were there." Joel climbs on top of you then so that he can look down on you, seeing how much smaller you are than him. He wants to be powerful because his words make him feel weak. "I knew you were watching me and Tess so I fucked with you. I wanted to make you jealous. I wanted to get back at you for fucking my brother behind my back. I wanted…I wanted you to feel something for me, but you didn't. You just left me there to die. You didn't give a fuck about me and I should've realized that sooner before I gave a fuck about you." 

"What…" You're in total disbelief. 

Did Joel really fuck Tess like that because of some kind of jealous vendetta? He wanted you to yearn for his love and that was the only way he could show it because he was scared you didn't want it. 

"Joel, I–"

He cuts you off to ask, "did I really mean nothing to you? I let you steal my booze. I let you steal my pills. I let you steal my fucking heart and you left me to die."

You choke on your own inhale then, the guilt consuming you. You know you shouldn't have left him. You know you should've fought and tried to save him. You know…but you were afraid and selfish and running from more than just your feelings for him. 

"You meant too much to me." You speak the truth into the night because you need him to know it. "And that scared me. I never felt that way about anyone before and…and I thought I was all alone in it. I was angry because I thought you could be happy without me. I was sad because I didn't want you to be with Tess. I left you…because I didn't know how I'd live if I had to come back and watch you live a life with someone else that wasn't me. I'm sorry, Joel. I'm so fucking sorry…"

You feel tears streaming down your face, but they aren't yours. They're hitting your nose, dripping down your cheeks and onto your lips. They're hot and salty. Nothing like the cold, crisp rain outside. 

And, they're coming from Joel of all people. 

This hardened, soulless smuggler is crying in front of you because of you. 

These tears are for you, right? 

"I told myself if I made it out of there alive that I'd kill you." His words send chills down your spine even if his eyes are spilling tears. "I told myself that the only reason I needed to live was to get back at you for leaving me in the dust. But then, I came back and…you were doing worse than me. I didn't even think that was possible, but I watched you. You tried your hardest to avoid me, but I still found ways to keep an eye on you and…you would've let yourself wither away over this. My beautiful princess would've let the light die inside of her because of me. Am I right?" 

You close your eyes, pinching them shut because seeing him sad is too much for you. It's hardly believable that he's sad over you. 

Has he really been watching you waste away? Would he have…wanted to help? 

Is that why he hasn't kicked you out of his place? Is that why he wanted to make you feel good? 

"I didn't think I deserved to be happy after what I did to you." 

You open your eyes then but immediately close them when you feel Joel's lips on yours. Out of necessity, you wrap your arms around his neck, burying your hands in his hair, pulling him close to you. You and Joel rarely kissed, and it never felt like this. 

There's such a desperation in it, where both of you just have to be connected, sharing breaths and space in each other's mouths.

"I haven't been happy without you." Joel breathes out onto your lips when he pulls away. "I wanted to be with you. That's why Tommy told me. It's because I told him how much I wanted you and he couldn't keep it a secret any longer."

"He was worried I didn't feel the same." You gather that to be the case and he nods in agreement. 

"And I thought he was right, until now." Joel cups your face in his hands, carefully wiping away the tears from your cheeks as he explains, "I was so angry with you, but it hurt more not having you by my side. I thought I lost you forever. The only reason I had the strength to come back was for you." 

"Joel…" You can't help but pull him in for a hug, sobbing into his shoulder, "don't let me go. I don't want to be alone anymore. Please let me stay here." 

"Until the hurricane ends?" He asks, the nerves apparent in his tone.

You shake your head against his chest and then promise, "until you want to kill me for what I've done." 

He chuckles lightly at that and nods. "Deal." 

You smile at him then and you realize that's the first time you've smiled all night. It warms your heart and you lean up, giving Joel a kiss on the cheek like he had done at Tommy's wedding. 

"Let's get you under the covers." He must notice that you're getting cold so he helps you get warm, bundling the comforter over the two of you. "Have you been cold without me?" 

You feel embarrassed that he'd ask something like that, mainly because you know he's prompting you to say, "it's always warmer snuggling up with you, sir." 

"Good girl, still knowing who she belongs to." Joel must be very happy about that because he slowly sinks his way under the covers until he's back between your legs. "Now, is my precious princess going to cum for me this time?"

"Yes." You assure him that you won't hold back. 

"Ask politely." He's demanding and it shoots such a thrill through you to see him like this again. 

"Will you please make me cum, sir?" You chew on your lip right after you say that, trying to hold in your shyness. 

"Only if you don't hold in your voice. I rarely get to hear you be vocal, so I want you to be now." 

You hadn't realized how used to being quiet you were in bed. Holding in your moans was a necessity since you and Joel normally fucked out in the open and rarely behind closed doors. This wouldn't be the first time you've gotten to be loud, but it would be the first time you can really let yourself drown in the pleasure. 

"Please hurry, then." You grip onto his messy hair, urging him to continue. He smiles at your impatience and doesn't keep you waiting much longer. 

Your eyes roll back when Joel's lips wrap around your clit, giving it a light suck. It's like all the air has escaped your lungs because you can't breathe anymore. His beard scratches at your inner thighs and it makes you want to grind on him more. You just want to remember this feeling.

You want him to etch himself into your mind and body completely. 

"I love it when you ride my face like that, darlin'." The term of endearment rolls off his tongue before he dips lower, teasing your aching pussy with the tip. 

"Please." You hate that he's stalling. You're wriggling at his soft touch, at the way he dips his tongue so casually inside of you. He knows it's not enough to get you off. 

Joel relishes in the control he has over you. He might be smothered between your thighs but he's in charge of the pace. He gets to choose if he wants to give you what you need and you love every second of it. 

That's why when he finally eats you out the way you've been craving, you gush out uncontrollably when you're taken over the edge. Your breaths are all raspy and your mind is trying to catch up with the pleasure that's searing every inch of your body. 

Joel licks his lips with a grin, proud that he made you squirt with just his mouth. You cover your face at the sight of him, timid because you haven't cum that hard in quite some time. 

"Can you handle more or will you give out on me too early?" He asks as he pulls off his shirt, showing off the body you've been missing. 

Though, you can't seem to answer his question when you see the new scars on his chest. There are…so many…and it's obvious they were left to fester because the scars are like spiderwebs of pink and red. Your hand unconsciously reaches up and Joel takes your hand, pulling it towards him so you can lay your palm on the scar closest to his heart. 

"I-I did this." You stammer your words, your nerves heightening at the thought of what pain Joel went through. "You got hurt because of me. I-"

"It's in the past." He holds your hand securely, as if to ground you back into reality. "Don't think about that anymore." 

"Can I touch you then?" You press your hand into him more, wanting him to switch places with you. "Please, Joel. Let me so I can forgive myself." 

You can sense he's afraid in his own way. It's obvious neither of you have sought comfort for what had happened between you two, so opening up to that now is difficult. But, Joel nods slowly and then pulls you onto him, having you straddle him once again. 

For the next hour, you kiss every inch of his body. Your hands trail along every scar, old and new, and you whisper quiet affirmations to him, telling him that you appreciate him and his resilience. You apologize here and there, even though he tells you not to, but it isn't for him. You need it more than he does and he understands that soon enough. 

"You're so…beautiful." Joel tells you when you come up to him for a kiss. "It makes me wary that you want to be here with a man like me."

"I think you forgot that I'm the one who broke into your house." You say with a smirk and he lets out a hearty laugh. 

"What would you have done if I didn't find you?" He wonders aloud, so you think for a moment. 

A part of you thinks you chose Joel's place because you wanted to get caught. It would be the only way you could get yourself to talk to him again, after all. 

With a chuckle, you tell him, "I think I would have woken you up. You've never been a heavy sleeper. Plus, I know you stopped taking the pills."

"How do you know that?" He's curious. 

"You always ween off them before a trip and I know you've got a big one coming up." You don't shy away from the fact that you've been keeping tabs on him too. "I…heard you're taking Tess."

"It was either her or go alone, since I didn't have you anymore." He says as his hand comes up to caress your face. "Would it be wrong of me to ask you to go with me instead?"

"What's the job?" You ask, leaning into his touch. 

Joel adjusts until you're both facing one another side by side so that his hands can idly run along your skin while he explains, "Marlene has some kind of cargo she needs transported."

"You're working with the Fireflies?" You're surprised to hear that. 

"I ain't, I just need what they're willing to give me so I can get to Tommy." That makes a lot more sense. 

"I heard you've been looking for him." You bribed the radio man for that information a few days ago, actually.

"Mhm." Joel nods, his hand slipping between your legs then, getting distracted. 

You part your legs so that he has better access and he smiles at you when you do. His hand dips deeper, his fingertips teasing your entrance as his palm rests on your clit. He won't go any further than this. Not right now. 

Not unless you give him a reason to. "Make me cum again and I'll go with you. Tess can tag along if you think we need the extra body." 

"Are you telling me you wouldn't be too shy to fuck in front of Tess?" He dips two of his fingers into you when he says that and you have to hold back your gasp. "You'd be too horny not to. Isn't that right, my greedy princess?" 

"Yes, sir." You roll your hips against his hand, needing him to knead your clit with his palm. "I wouldn't care. I'd let you do anything you wanted to me, wherever, whenever." 

"Tess won't be tagging along." Joel tells you as he grabs your face with his free hand, lifting your chin to meet his fearsome gaze. "No one gets to see you look like this but me. Understood?"

"I understand." You say with a nod so he drags his thumb across your lip before pushing it into your mouth. You swirl your tongue along his calloused finger and then let it rest there with your lips wrapped around it. 

"My princess. All mine. Every hole of yours is mine to fill." He curls his fingers inside of your pussy, rubbing up against your g-spot once again. "Do you like being mine?" 

You don't even respond. Instead, your hand sneaks down and pulls his hard cock out from his sweats, needing to feel him. You gently stroke him up and down as he starts to thrust his fingers inside of you, making you wish it was his cock instead. 

"You drive me crazy." He lets out a low growl before he topples you over, smacking your hand away from him. He pulls his fingers out of you then and rubs all of your slick onto his cock, the wet sounds filling the air. 

It's erotic and hot, watching how his cock throbs for you. 

That's why you slip your hand down and spread yourself wide open like he has made you do all of tonight and tell him, "take what's yours, Joel." 

He doesn't wait a second longer. You're ill-prepared for him to slam every inch of his cock inside of you, but the moment he hilts, you swear you could've cum right there. 

The way he fills you up is perfect. Thick, hot and hard, curving inside of you at the perfect angle to rub every inch of your pussy the way it needs to be. 

You're already swimming in ecstasy just having him sit inside of you like this, but then he starts to move and it's all over. You cum hard, clenching around his cock. Sparks tingle on your skin and you can't help but want so much more. 

"Fuck, you feel so good, princess." He grunts, gripping onto your hips to steady himself. "I shouldn't fuck you raw like this, though." 

"I don't care." You should, but you've always been a bit reckless so you wager, "I won't forgive you if you pull out right now."

"Someone wants me to bury my seed deep inside of her." He leans down then, his eyes locking on yours as he goes, "if you want me to fuck you until you're pregnant, all you have to do is beg."

You do so without hesitation, "please fill me up with your cum, sir."

He's glad to hear it, which is why he responds, "I'm going to drown your pussy until it's leaking out over my cock and then I'll do it again, and again, as many times as it takes, my little princess." 

Joel drags his hand across your stomach and rolls his hips, like he wants to feel the way his cock is stirring you up inside. You're tightening up so much because it's been so long since you've been filled like this. It aches in the best kind of way, that pleasure of being split in two by him. 

When he starts to go faster, rougher, it's hard for you to edge yourself. You can't count the number of times you must have cum before he finally did. It drips out of you like a flood as he slowly pulls out. 

Though, right when you think he's going to slip away entirely, Joel shoves his cock back inside of you, making your toes curl uncontrollably. You crave more already and he's well aware. 

That's why when he does finally pull his cock out of you, his fingers replace it. You don't stop him from forcing orgasm after orgasm out of you until he's hard enough to fuck you once more. 

How could you say no to a man like Joel Miller? 

Somewhere along the way, you and Joel take naps together and eat small meals before fucking again. You can't get enough of him. You don't ever want to let him go again. 

You want to stay by his side forever. 

"The hurricane will be over soon." Joel notes the lighter rainfall outside. "We'll have to leave soon for the job." 

"Does that mean we should sleep or…" You chuckle at your own joke and Joel presses a kiss on the top of your head before laughing lightly with you. 

"Just promise you won't leave me for dead again." He tells you and you know he's never going to let you live that down. 

"I'll think about it." You say with a cheeky grin and Joel retaliates by pinning you down onto the bed, glaring at you. 

He's going to devour you for that and you're thoroughly ready to be swallowed whole. 

Oh, how you love such a dangerous man… 

a/n: this was really fun to write! I'm sure you noticed, but this oneshot kind of acts like a possible prologue to a canon-divergent series where you replace Tess on Joel's trip with Ellie. will I actually write a whole series? who knows! but I think a little prequel like this would be a nice dabble into the idea! should I write it? hehe 

if you enjoyed this read, maybe you'll enjoy my other joel oneshot: trouble! thanks again for reading ~ 

[necrotic-nephilim]

in the tags of that one fab five poly post you mentioned that you are a core four enthusiast and I’d love to hear if you have any Kon headcanons or just any yj headcanons in general, I love those little guys

!!! i love Kon so much, he's one of my fave guys. i actually got into the 90s era of comics to read his solo run, YJ(98), and then i just spiralled from there. i've got lots of headcanons about both Kon and YJ

for Kon specifically, i'm really attached to the headcanon of him and Power Girl being friends. i think the idea of them bonding over imposter syndrome over feeling like Kryptonians who don't neatly fit into the Superfam would be very crunchy. it's my Kara Zor-L stan showing, but i've got a lot of fic ideas where they end up close. similarly: i also think a friendship between Kon and Bizarro could be fun, both being clones of Superman made by Lex.

for a YJ headcanon: i hold FIRMLY to the belief that Bart knew TIm's secret identity before YJ even formed he just. never mentioned it bc no one asked him. the way they meet in Robin Plus Impulse, i see no world where Bart doesn't figure it out. i think it makes for a hilarious concept that Tim's identity real is a big deal and he uses the whole fake name Alvin Draper and Bart just blurts out that he's Tim Drake. i know we all love TimKon, but I'm a bit of a TimBart truther and i think it could be a fun little moment for them.

back to Kon: this is less of a headcanon and more of just a thought: but i wish we had more content about the Ravers, Kon's team before YJ. i won't everytime i think about Superboy & the Ravers i have to look it up to convince myself i didn't hallucinate that entire comic. but it was so fun. there was a road trip arc. a canon queer character who's arc was handled shockingly well for the 90s. (and the homophobic character was the one who got the unhappy ending while the gay man got to be happy with a bf?? revolutionary.) i personally believe Hero Cruz was Kon's gay awakening. i won't elaborate on this. anyway i wish we saw more of Kon thinking about this team after YJ formed and maybe missing some of his old party friend losers.

also on the note of Kon, i love any exploration of his canon experiences with being groomed by just about every woman he "dated" in the 90s. i'm such a fan of when a character becomes hypersexual to cope with their trauma that they haven't realized even is trauma. and i think Kon fits that bar perfectly. the first real attention he got outside of being attached to Superman's legacy was sexual attention from women, so of course he would lean into that and not realize how fucked up it was until years later. i love when it shapes his relationships in fanfiction, especially if he doesn't realize it. whether it's Tana Moon or Knockout or just about any other woman, there's a lot of material to explore.

Kon is one of the few characters i will venture out of pre-Flashpoint for because i think his complex over Jon Kent has the potential to be really complex and fun. i think everyone misunderstands Kon and Clark's relationship (i blame the Young Justice cartoon. i've had arguments you wouldn't believe over Kon on TikTok-) as father/son and that Clark is constantly pushing Kon away in favor of Jon, and that's just not true. the issue is that Kon was *forgotten* by the timeline shifting without him bc he was off on Gemworld. and to me, that's more interesting than making Clark some kind of absent father to him. it's an issue of the world he remembers not existing anymore and most of the world not remembering him either, and now there's a new Superboy replacing him. idk man that's fun. i have a lot of thoughts about the feelings Kon would have about Jon, wondering if the timeline shift was meant to "correct" Superboy to make a version of Superboy that was meant to exist and Kon wasn't. this very much ties into my thoughts on how he and Power Girl would have a lot to bond over, feeling displaced in a world that doesn't need them. that's where Kon's identity issues stem from. that said, i always prefer a Kon who actually gets along pretty well with the Superfam, including Clark and Jon. most of his conflict is internal, not external. it's what makes him crunchy.

more YJ headcanon: i think the shift from the Teen Titans to YJ from the perspective of the mentors is fascinating. YJ got a lot more freedom and less supervision, it's like how parents don't try as hard when they have more kids. so i love the headcanon that half the time the League has no damn clue what YJ is up to. they played baseball to save the universe? yeah they never mentioned it to their mentors. no one asked. the lack of supervision, sans a robot, makes them incredibly creative with how they solve problems. they don't approach anything traditionally because no one is properly guiding them. since they're a new generation of sidekicks, most of them holding a mantle that was passed down to them (or at the very least they're a new generation of a superhero family) it holds a bit of imposter syndrome. all of them are internally panicking 90% of the time while trying to appear collected around each other. they're actively a collective disaster because of it.

personally, i view the Core Four as more of a queerplatonic polycule than a romantic one? like i think it's fun to explore polycule dynamics where it's not actually everyone dating everyone, but far more complex of some people dating, some people are familial, some people are fucking, and we don't even know what those two have going on. it's complicated, you know? messy and codependent. i don't see them as a neat polycule whatsoever. it's like an on and off again relationship but with four people that also occasionally includes others. i'm personally a fan of the potential of the Young Justice (2019) team being a polycule except none of them have any clue who's dating who. every single one of them *will* give you a different answer. half of them aren't even aware of the other's sexualities. Jinny has come out as a lesbian like four times to her own polycule. i'm a big fan of this team and i wish there was more fan content for it.

random smaller headcanon: i do think Kon can cook and i think no one believes him when he tells them. bc the issue isn't he can't cook, it's that he never has food in his fridge or pantry to cook with. that boy was raised with Ma and Pa Kent, he can make a *mean* hotdish with whatever he finds. just don't expect him to ever repeat a recipe bc he will never have that exact combination of ingredients in his kitchen again. he is however, horrible at baking bc cooking is an art and baking is a science and you will never catch him following a recipe in his life.

i think Kon regularly uses his TTK to save his teammates during fights and just. never mentions it. like in small ways, such as slightly moving flying debris that's about to hit them, making a villain's punch have more resistance so it doesn't hit as hard, slightly pulling them out of the way. no one knows for like. *years*. i'm very obsessed with pushing TTK to the limits and exploring how it makes Kon hyperaware of his surroundings. it's a literal sixth sense and i think he's passively always aware of everything, even when he's relaxing. no one realizes just how much control he exerts over a fight. which means he's holding himself back most of the time, and in my opinion for the reasons of being afraid of himself, and afraid of the Luthor parts of him. so he just. balances a fight in little, unnoticeable ways.

it's one of my headcanons that if Kon started openly dating Tim Drake, Lex would immediately try to get closer to Kon bc not only would he approve of Kon dating someone from high society, but he'd want to try to use Tim's power within his family's company and Bruce's company as leverage. of course it wouldn't work, but it'd be a fun mind game if Lex vs Tim with Kon just stuck in the middle. i have a vague fanfic idea for this I'll probably never write.

this is a cursed headcanon: but i believe Kon has an incest kink. the number of times he's canonically expressed incestual feelings (both on purpose and on accident) is not on purpose in the text, but the fact it keeps happening means i'm personally just going to run with it. i think KonJayTim is fun bc even if Tim and Jason don't see each other as siblings, Kon would make it a kink anyway. i will leave you on that cursed note.

[dearweirdme]

On one hand, jk is heavily implying that he sees and knows more about what goes on in socials than people think he does and then on the other hand, he stays setting tae up? Telling him to get lost and acting like his presence alone is interrupting a serious conversation about music--- then when the switch up comes it's not about how Tae might contribute to discussing the music, it's once again about his looks and how either his visuals or shippers will bump up the view count, and ppl can pretend otherwise but his energy towards tae was real low in that ep.

It's getting exhausting trying to make excuses for this shit now 🙄 he pulled this shit with vmin the other day too---like he was too busy with 'serious business' to be bothered by them.

And yeah he validated the snowboarding trip but still couldn't help but set Tae up for his sad solos to call him a bad friend and question Taekook.

And all the pics you're all FFFFFF over are JK basking in the attention and affection but not really giving shit in return.

He gives the bare minimum, like a bit of dancing to a song, while tae is openly glowing about and praising his stuff and y'all are like 'oh, he's been busy' like tae has been on the sofa all day watching TV or something and has all the time in the world to devote to jk--like he doesn't just make time for him and jk couldn't do the same in reverse if he wanted to. He has time to do all those lives trying to convince delulus that he's singing about them in Seven but not to hype tae's stuff without being asked to by fans?

You can call me an anti or hater or a joker if you want but I'm not. I'm a taekook shipper too who is just fed up of seeing Tae giving all that energy and it not being matched and even not being appreciated. These guys are not approaching each other on the same level and you all know it because you keep making all these excuses for it; about how it's just jk just being to shy and cautious and tae being too bold and impulsive, when all its really covering for is a lack of respect and consideration and a sense of dismissiveness undermining and even passive aggressiveness towards someone who is, at best, supposed to be his boyfriend and at worst, supposed to be his best friend.

Haters out for tae's blood are having a field day with the chum that jk keeps throwing in the water for them so he's either dumb and doesnt think about the shit he does and says or he just doesn't care that tae keeps taking the heat for it.

I want this ship to be real and I still do think its real but he needs to course correct because right now, he's barely managing to pass 'supportive friend' nevermind 'supportive boyfriend'

It's giving 'tae deserves better' on both fronts.

Hi anon!

I don’t actually think the term Taekook shipper applies to you. Because in essence ‘shipping’ means you like the two persons together and you feel they would make a nice pair. You don’t actually think they make a nice pair, because you don’t feel Jk treats Tae well. Leaving aside that you are imo very wrong in interpreting the way Jk reacts to Tae.. seriously like.. how do you not see 🙈.

I’m seriously not going to go into how I disagree with your take on Jk. In my opinion you just don’t understand or get him.

Wanting a ship to be real isn’t the point. It’s either real or not, our wanting has nothing to do with it. I think you are a Taekook believer, but not so much a Taekook shipper (anymore). Maybe your ideas about what a relationship should look like differ from what you see, but realize that we will never get to see them as actual boyfriends.

[hmshermitcraft]

For the weekly theme!

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Etho was one of the dragons of the Hermitcraft server who have decided to live in houses made of blocks, spending more time in their human forms rather than as dragons, and learning from those who were born fully human

It wasn't a matter of belief or anything, really! One day Etho was flying by, and his eyes were drawn to shiny red items scattered all over the ground, near a human building. Ohhhhh, those would look FABULOUS in his horde, he just HAD TO sweep in and take a few!!!

However, before he managed to figure out how to fish those blocks out from the contraption that held them, a shout was heard from the house. A very tall and lanky human, with a fluffy moustache, almost tripped over his elegant shoes as he rushed outside. He wasn't about to let someone take apart his redstone machine, even if that someone was a dragon 10 times his size

Thankfully, Etho was a very calm dragon, so it was easy for Mumbo to explain why taking the redstone was a bad idea. Etho flew away, holding a few ethically sourced blocks from Mumbo's storage in his paws, but the thought of the shiny red dust that made machines work would not leave his mind, no matter what he did

This is how Etho found himself living amongst humans. He slowly but surely made friends with people other than Mumbo, untill he was well known and liked by everyone, and "he could call himself one of the Hermits" (the last part was Xisuma's words). It didn't take long at all for him to master redstone, he had a real knack for it and very shortly he was considered one of the best redstoners around

There were a couple other dragons living as part of the Hermitcraft too, so Etho was very content with his life. Talking and working alongside Tango, Impulse, Ren, Mumbo, and other people, sometimes going on flights with the mischevious feather dragon siblings Pearl and Grian, or just hanging around with his new friends, listening to Scar trying to swindle another item for his horde from someone, and being swatted upside down the head by Cleo, a stunning copper dragon

One day, when he was pouring over another solo project of his, a shadow covered his working area. Before he even managed to look up, a huge weight slammed into him, and had him pinned to the ground. It's good that dragons were particularly resilient, even in their human form, or else he'd be an Etho pancake

Once he managed to scramble from underneath the thing that fell on him, it turned out that it wasn't a thing at all, it was another dragon who crash-landed right outside Etho's base. No, crash-landed was not the right word, the dragon definitely just... fell out of the sky, passed out due to the many injuries he had all over his body

Etho panicked, quickly messaging other Hermits about the situation, asking them to come and help him. The dragon might be a stranger, but those injuries were so severe... he might just not make it...

Thankfully, because of the collaboration of Cub (who despite all his grumbling, did a stellar job with knitting torn flesh together), and the redstoners of the server (including a very worried Etho), the strange dragon was brought back to full health, and there was a custom made set of redstone-powered prosthetics (complete with a mechanism that allowed them to adapt to both a dragon and a human body) waiting for him, when he wakes up

It did take a while for the dragon to wake up. Etho... was very very worried about the stranger. It sure was weird for him, to be this invested in someone's fate, but he couldn't help but to feel drawn towards the other dragon. He spent a lot of time waiting by the den the other dragon occupied, hoping to catch the moment he woke up. And well, when the stranger's condition was stable, and there was no imminent threat hanging over everyone, Etho couldn't help but to notice just how deep the green of the other's scales was, how the magnificent goat horns curled on the sides of his head, how powerful were his wings... oh dear, did he just manage to develop a crush on the other dragon??? While that one was unconscious as well??? Oh no....

Eventually, the strange dragon woke up. Etho was not there to see it, but he rushed over as soon as he heard the news. The dragon, slightly disoriented still, introduced himself as Doc. He explained how he ended up right outside Etho's base (running away from dragon hunters, that one made everyone wince. It was rare for a place to be as accepting as Hermitcraft...) and in turn, he was filled in on where he is and what is happening around him

Doc took it all in stride. And he started recovering very quickly as well. Getting used to his prosthetics, and shifiting forms with them, was a bit of a challenge, but everything settled down soon enough

And just as it was with Etho, the Hermits welcomed Doc with open arms. He quickly proved to be wonderful person, and he made a home for himself on the server. Yet again, Xisuma extended an invitation to a dragon, and Doc accepted, becoming a Hermit. The server was a safe place for him, and now no dragon hunters could get him; his new friends would rip them to shreds in his defence. It was... a good feeling

All this time, Etho stared at Doc from the distance, trying to find a reason to go talk to Doc. Besides "oh hey, you kinda squashed me when you fainted mid air, wanna be friends?' he couldn't think of another reason, and that was incredibly weird, so he kept his distance

But!!! Soon enough it turned out that Doc also knew how redstone worked, and he was damn good at it. He was invited into the inner redstone circle of the server, and soon enough Etho was seeing him every day, even talking to him for hours on end!!! It... sure did nothing to stop his crush from developing... nuh-uh. He often found himself drowning in thoughts about how wonderful it would be to have a mate like Doc...

Meanwhile Doc himself was also enamoured with the other redstone dragon. He was trying to figure out how to maybe... change their solo redstone-meetings into dates... He was pretty positive that Etho might like him too, as whenever the conversation shifted from strictly work-realted into something more private, the other man's cheeks turned as red as the redstone he so often had sprinkled on his clothes

But Doc has spent so much time alone and on the run, he didn't know what to do! He was not used to interacting with others... How would he even ask Etho to be his mate... oh no...

Alas, they were pretty damn obvious with their feelings, despite thinking themselves very stealthy. At this point, their friends stopped being amused at the duo circling each other, and instead became annoyed. How long can they keep this up!? Ugh, this is too much. The Hermits hatched the "Get Two Idiotic Dragons Together" plan, and once Hermits have a plan, it just MUST succeed

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

(Ahh... it's not quite as good as I was hoping it'd be, but I dunno what to change here... sigh...

Anyways, I might submit more things, so can I please be the 🌠 anon?)

They don't want to push the two so much that it forces them apart, but it's getting a little silly. The pair are clearly close! They think they just need some encouragement to take that final step.

They go for the obvious first. Bdubs and Beef try to nudge both of them into at least admitting they're interested in each other! Which... Etho is a terrible liar and spends several minutes going "Doc? Nooo, absolutely not! Why would I- no!" And Doc waves it off but doesn't specifically say no. But neither of them say yes, either!

So, it seems like they're going to have to go to plan B.

Plan B involves a spontaneous 'redstone problem' that somehow both Doc and Etho got called on to fix! They joke about it at first, before getting into the work, trying to figure out what's gone wrong with the contraption. It takes longer than it probably should (Bdubs' redstone is perfect, okay), but then a piece of paper spits from a dispenser reading 'just go on a date already'.

Doc and Etho both try and brush past it, joking, until they realise... A date wouldn't be terrible, would it? If it goes wrong, they can just leave it there and go back to being friends (and pack, as well.)

Eventually they admit how long they've been crushing on each other. But that takes until at least the fourth date.

[mandana-the-service-pup]

Our first solo zoo trip!

This was our second time at the zoo. Our first trip was over a year ago. Hubbins didn’t want to go this time but Mandana & I buddied up and made it happen! It was hot but I brought her doggy electrolyte drink and packed her vest with ice packs. We also took a lot of breaks in the shade and inside the cooler buildings. It was hard but we made it and had a great time!

We were there for two hours. The zoo was pretty busy so I wanted to keep her in a tighter heel than normal. I was using my rollator & she was very excited to be there so for a while she was putting a little pressure into her leash instead of having it completely loose. Eventually she relaxed and we had a great stroll through the zoo!

There were a few animals (goats & seals) that got her really excited on our last zoo visit so I made sure to take it slow and give distance when needed to keep her calm & focused. She was pretty good on our last zoo trip but was so much better this time around. It’s amazing what a year of training & experience can do!

The biggest highlight was how amazing she was around the kids. She had no issue ignoring all of them (even the ones who were actively trying to distract her). She wasn’t spooked nor were they exciting her. She was completely neutral which is perfect service dog behavior!

By chance I actually caught one interaction on camera. The child who ran up to her was just a little baby and got way too close for comfort (just out of camera shot and right next to Mandanas paws) My experience with little kids is that it’s better become a barrier close to the dog rather than trying to meet them where they’re at. Sticking my arm out towards the child works for older kids but younger kids must be used to people trying to stop their impulsive activities because they will actively dodge around you. I’ve found that putting my hand directly in front of the dog is more effective in getting them to stop and it also sends a clear message to the parents (if they’re watching their child in the first place 🥲)

[fluffypotatey]

OK SO!! DOUBLE LIFE PEARL!!

i think i've told you the double life gimmick before (randomly assigned soulmates share a health bar, so when someone takes damage so does their partner), so i'll cut right to the pearlo.

in session 1 of double life, almost every player set out to find their soulbound before anything out. every player... except pearl pearlescentmoon and martyn inthelittlewood, who went to the nether to get geared up and try and find rare loot for their soulmates. pearl was initially hesitant on this idea, but martyn convinced her it'd be fine. (several times during this nether trip, martyn makes fun of their soulmates, only for pearl to step in and defend hers).

when martyn and pearl return to the overworld, they decide to focus on finding their soulmates, and run into scott and cleo. martyn sets up a little game show, and lo and behold, pearl is bound to scott, and martyn to cleo! pearl is ecstatic- she and scott had been very close partners in the previous series, and she was excited to be his teammate again! however, it was not to be. unbeknownst to martyn and pearl, scott and cleo had already discovered, through process of elimination, that their soulmates were pearl and martyn. they had also decided that, since pearl and martyn hadn't come to find them first, and had risked their lives by going to the nether, that they were going to team up together and reject their assigned partners.

after being rejected by scott and cleo, her teammates from the last game, pearl turned to martyn, only to find him leaving her too (he intended to play solo and try and win cleo back). pearl had been abandoned, rejected by everyone, and the only companion she had left was her dog, tilly. she builds an extremely tall tower near the center of the map, and lives alone in it.

in the next session, pearl tries to befriend a nearby soulbound pair (ren renthedog and bigb bigbst4tz, called the Box Boys because of their ugly, box-shaped base), but ends up accidentally causing their first deaths. after this event, the box boys reject her too, with ren saying "whether you tried to [kill us] or not, there is something wicked within you!"

(she also spends a lot of this session standing in powdered snow blocks, which causes her to take progressive ticks of damage, in order to annoy scott and force him to waste food to keep them alive).

her participation in events that tend to leave people dead (the box boys, her starting some fishing rod shenanigans with joel and etho that cause their second deaths, her presence at other major deaths) and general unhinged behavior (especially masquerading as a red life) cause the rest of the server to fear and reject her even more, calling her the "scarlet witch" and other such names (scott refers to her as his "crazy ex", (made funnier because he's gay irl)).

as things on the server heat up, pearl is forced to team up with scott (because they're soulbound), cleo (because they're scott's teammate) and martyn (because he's cleo's soulmate) several times in order to survive, but always manages to alienate herself from the group anyways by trying to injure scott on purpose.

during her final episode, the already unhinged pearl goes COMPLETELY off the rails and starts hunting down and killing people, directly killing two soulmate pairs herself (impulse + bdubs and martyn + cleo), defeating both pairs in 1v2 pvp. (her killing impulse and bdubs was insane- she hunted them down slowly, methodically, all while menacingly chanting "Something wicked this way comes" louder and louder, until she caught and killed them.)

martyn and cleo's deaths at her hands means that now it's just her and scott left. the "ghosts" (the other dead players in spectator mode) and the rules are clear: this game will have only one winner. she turns to face scott, ready to get closure with one final fight and. you know what. im just gonna transcript this.

PEARL: Hi, Scott.

SCOTT: I didn't think it would end this way.

PEARL: [crouching] I honestly didn't have a lot of faith in us.

SCOTT: [crouching] I think... [stands] Pearl, you deserve this more.

PEARL: [stands] Excuse me?! What do you mean?

[Scott jumps up, and places a block of TNT beneath him. Pearl flinches as he does so.]

SCOTT: In the same way... [He takes out a flint and steel, and lights the TNT beneath him]

SCOTT: [Looks up to make direct eye contact with Pearl] Tilly death do us part, Pearl.

PEARL: [panicked] Wait, Scott, what are you doing?

SCOTT: [yelling, almost triumphantly] Tilly death do us part!

PEARL: [at the same time, panicking, rushing towards him] Scott! What are you doing?! SCOTT-

[She is cut off as the TNT explodes underneath Scott, killing him- and, a second later, her. Pearlescentmoon is now the winner of the Double Life SMP.]

tl;dr: she's a very sad and pathetic wet cat who is also an unstoppable, terrifying omen of death (one might even call her. a harbinger of chaos.) she's so lonely but she drives away anyone who might otherwise accept her. she hates scott and wants him to hurt but he's the one person she can't kill and in the end she still cares about him, even though he's cut her off completely. shes so blorbo.

oh my god i love her

[puff-mmd]

i was assaulted with yandere ciro au and it was not fun

--

highlights:

it starts off cute, like ciro does little things like looking at kaisei on his phone a lot before he even actually meets him. the file they have of his photos though? bro takes it home and gets off looking at them.

so when he actually meets kaisei for the first time he is already Awkward™️ because mfer literally jerked off to this guy and he's trying to be normal.

from the outside, yoai sees things as just an intense crush. as far as she knows, ciro is just always talking to him when he gets the chance! and thinks he's cute and wants to hang out a lot! she finds it sweet even, because this is the first time she's seen him have a crush at all.

ciro is absolutely adamant about things working out with him and kaisei. he is setting up solo hang outs, in his spare time he is making cute clothing stuff for kaisei as gifts, he is dropping every hint possible that he is into kaisei and well, kaisei picks up on them because he's already very perceptive and was hoping for signals anyway (he is into ciro very much too!!)

when they finally get together Oh My God ciro is fucking feral. even kaisei is like "damn i don't think even i'm that good at sex"

they had a conversation early on (could be right before they officially got together) that went like

"kaisei, do you really like me?"

"i do"

"i love that you put so much effort into us, i feel like i've found someone that cares about me as much as i care about them. ciro, i love you."

oh kaisei don't say that, it's about to get so bad.

i think this ciro's brain was messed up somehow from being single for so long, idk man he did some wild shit

i think he even freaked himself out at first, because he was getting ridiculously jealous. at first, it was people at events or when they went out together (ciro would cling to kaisei and get a look on his face that unnerved whoever kaisei was talking to. if kaisei had to leave them alone for a little, ciro was being extremely rude to them)

but then there was an interaction where kaisei and yoai were literally just at the office chatting and ciro Lost It on yoai. which freaked both of them out because they're like, "ciro you know there is nothing between us" and he apologizes, but it's still just, even having done it in the first place was off.

or like, there's a work trip that ciro and yoai have to go on, and kaisei couldn't go with (no time off, something like that) and he is just in agony about it. he is begging kaisei, telling him he has to come with, he can't stand the thought of being without him for that long (it's barely a week), even going so far as to 'talk' to kaisei's manager into giving him the time off. to which he later slips to kaisei that his bf is "really off-putting".

OR even worse, later kaisei has to travel for a photo shoot (only a weekend), and ciro shouldn't go because he and yoai have a really big event the same weekend. well bro skipped out on that :);;;

which in turn really upset yoai because it was a HUGE deal, and even though she barely made it by herself, she is pissed that ciro almost tanked the whole thing over being with kaisei.

and, at some point

yakumo was texting kaisei.

kaisei wasn't responding to the texts, and if he did they were messages to just leave him alone, but ciro ends up seeing those messages (i was imagining it after they did it and kaisei was washing up, his phone goes off and ciro's eroding impulse control made him look at the notification and was like "wtf")

and in his mind he is like "clearly kaisei wants him to stop and he's not stopping. so i have to do something about this."

so he already knows yakumo (since they worked together on some projects a while before), and he hits him up. he doesn't tell yakumo that he's dating kaisei at first, he wants to see what he has to say about him. and when yakumo starts going into details and being annoyed that kaisei is ignoring him and whatnot, ciro is just barely holding back by a thread.

they end up leaving wherever it is they met up at, and yakumo (probably drunk, they were likely at a bar or smth), starts hitting on ciro. it does not end well. ciro doesn't like, kill him or anything, but he pushes yakumo into a wall and threatens that if he ever messages kaisei again, he's going to have more than a few bloody scratches on him.

so now yakumo is freaked out by this little guy :);;;

yoai eventually finds an opportunity to talk to kaisei alone (ciro's been glued to him more and more was this goes on), and she expresses her concern that there's something wrong with ciro - he never acted like this before, and she's scared for him. kaisei agrees, and has felt this way since the whole incident between them in the office where he went off on yoai.

in all honesty, i think this ciro's emotions just, i don't know, got warped from being alone for a long time and suppressing his desires for love and a relationship. i think it was less he just didn't care for it for a long time like in the regular story, but something he put off despite wanting because he was persuaded to focus more on school and work. so by the time he has an outlet for those desires, it starts out with a crack, but eventually just floods him with all these unbearable emotions and feelings.

even he is shocked at how he's acting, but he feels like he has no control over himself.

at some point, he gets so obsessive over kaisei that even kaisei himself feels scared of him, and when ciro sees that, he just loses it. he starts hating himself for pushing away the person he loves so much with his actions. in his twisted way of thinking, he makes the mistake of proposing to kaisei, and.

well. i don't think kaisei actually says yes. and really, that's kinda. where this au ends. the rejection is too much for ciro to handle, and he just.

i don't know what all leads up to the exact moment, but my brain was like, he offed himself in their apartment wearing both engagement rings.

kaisei comes home to find him like that and is just fucking hysterical, tbh i never really want to imagine kaisei being that upset again.

and i also never want to see ciro like that again so yandere ciro au is gonna just go on a shelf and i'll stare it it in mild horror from time to time.

[seeasweetsmile]

OK folks, I think I need to presents you the stories fic and ideas about Team Rocket's organisation (and Jessie, because she's linked to them) I'm working with a friend of mine.

First of all, we started our ideas based on CD drama.

To the recall:

The events happened 20 years ago. Madame Boss (Giovanni's mother) already founded Team Rocket. She treat Giovanni as a brat boy (he's approximately 20y/o since he's 40/41 at OriginalSerie) and she seems more exaspered by him than loved him dearly.

Miyamoto (Jessie's mom) was elite agent of TR, have a sunshine personality, seems close to Mme Boss, and discovered Mew on her own with recording radios and stuffs. She was sent to Andes moutains by Mme Boss to capture Mew in order to make so much money and being powerfull. At the pic of the moutain, right when the sun hits, Miyamoto meets Mew and she show her picture of kid Jessie. Before her departure to oversea, she leaves Jessie 5y/o in orphanage/foster care. Unfortunately, an avalanche started, Mew run away and Miyamoto was swept away. Since then, she has been missing...

Now, our ideas about Team Rocket - PART 1 : The organization

- We decided to name Madame Boss Wanda. it's "Vandale" derive from "Voleur", so it's perfect for her. Plus, Wanda is a beautiful name.

- The HQ is at Celadon, under the Casino like in the games. They possess the inn in the town to have dorms and cafeteria for the members. They have training field in the forest in the North of the town. Since they're not in the Victory Road's moutains yet, there's no Rocket school and their technological and scientific section are not super large or advanced. Neither is their infirmary, it's very basic (to the point of having only single beds like in middle schools y'know? lol, or to carrying out operations on the spot).

- Miyamoto is named Jane (I think it's a fandom name that people already coming with? Like, to follow the pattern of gangsters name Calamity Jane). We think she's 35 years old in the drama, so she had Jessie at 30. She meets Jessie's dad (we named him Phil) in a bar at Celadon city. He's a police officer and doesn't know Jane is in Team Rocket (she made up a lie about her work). They quickly fall in love and become a couple. When Madame Boss learn that Jane has relationship with a police officer, she's not mad, she rather encourages Jane to continues the relationship in order to steal informations from him (even if it's risky). Jane and Phil share few years of many loveling moments and vacations trip together. After that, Phil has opportunitie to go to work at Unys, while Jane discover she's pregnant...

- Giovanni is advanced grunt, he's prefer doing solo missions because he feel that every partner he had keep him slow. He's impulsive, proud and arrogant due to his statut of Team Rocket's heir. He's good at pokemon battle.

- Despite being Boss's son, Madame Boss doesn't give him privileges. In fact, it's the opposite: she forces him to works twice harder to grant her wishes and expectations to be great. She thinks being tough to him is the way to make him strong. She don't hesitate to put him down. Like, "tough love" mindset, you know?

- Nanu is an officer in Kanto region, he's friend with Giovanni. Giovanni/Madame Boss make a deal with the police department: Giovanni denounce others gangs or teams wanted by the police, and the police close their eyes to TR's mischiefs.

-Archer is Giovanni's most loyal friend. Even if he's not team's up with Giovanni, he encourage him in his efforts and support him in his ideas. He believes that Giovanni will make a great leader in the future and Archer will be his right-hand man, just like in the games.

- Madame Boss recruted Ariane (who is a little younger than Giovanni, she's 18y/o). The old lady in charge of recruitment from Delibird's first episode (we named her Yolande) spot her in Johto region, doing evil stuffs, trying to recruit her but Ariane don't believe her or trust her. Yolande call Mme Boss to tell all about it, and Madame Boss flies as fast as she can in a private helicopter to meet and convince Ariane to be a part of Team Rocket.

(☝ this idea is already written, it's a standalone one-shot)

[ofenigmas]

(Chloe Bennet) [THE DETACHED]. Please welcome [MARLANA ZHAO (SHE/HER)] to Huntsville, WV. They are an [29]-year-old [VISITOR] who lives in [TOWN]. You may see them around working as a [ASSISTANT EDITOR AT HUNTSVILLE DAILY]. Poor unfortunate soul. We’ll see if they survive.

BASICS

NAME: marlana ingrid zhao

BIRTH DATE + AGE: april 16, 1994 – 00:00

GENDER: female

PRONOUNS: she/her

ORIENTATION: heterosexual biromantic ? 

OCCUPATION: assistant editor at huntsville daily

BIRTHPLACE: new york city 

FAMILY: gisela zhao née schneider - mother (alive??), zhao haoyu - father (alive??), luca zhao - older brother (presumed dead)

APPEARANCE

FACE CLAIM: chloe bennet

EYE COLOR: dark brown

HAIR: naturally medium brown. frequently dyed. currently dark brown.

HEIGHT: 5′6″

TATTOOS: a bluebird (lower back, a drunken dare) sun and moon tattoo on left wrist (x).

SCARS/BIRTH MARKS: jagged line diagonally across her right forearm (from barbed wire fence)

PERSONALITY

ZODIAC: aries sun, gemini moon, sagittarius rising

MBTI: estp, the entrepreneur.

ENNEAGRAM: 7w8, the realist. sexual/self preservation subtype

ALIGNMENT: chaotic good/neutral

TEMPERAMENT: choleric

ARCHETYPE: the detached / the defiant

ELEMENT: fire

ASSOCIATED CHARACTERS: april ludgate, megara from hercules, flynn rider, ron swanson, lois lane, han solo, georgia miller (according to mbti/enneagram still need to watch lmao)

AESTHETIC: crumpled newspapers, crimson, muffled laughter, ash- or ink- covered hands, rebellion, ruined dreams, the desire to stargaze on the roof, old history books, messy handwriting, irritatingly smug smiles, denim jackets, vodka, tight black dresses, broken champagne glasses, holding you an arm’s length away.

BIOGRAPHY TW: death, mention of skiing accident (not the gwyneth paltrow one)

born in new york city, youngest of two children, daughter of a software developer and a history professor. 

hates her name, always introduces herself as lana.

always wanted to be an investigative journalist (a perfect outlet for someone with a penchant for never minding her own business) 

an extrovert, but her friendships seemed to follow her since birth. her family was incredibly close to the Vargas and XXX families and she formed a tight knit circle with their children, especially Nina and Dante. she’d never felt the need for more friends. 

despite an intense sibling rivalry, was very close to her brother Luca. 

got accepted into Columbia for Journalism. spent six years there due to being forced to take a semester off from a skiing accident and having a year long internship. 

planned a week long ‘spring break’ trip in key west, florida to celebrate finally graduating and landing a position at the new york times. the caravan ended up being her, her best friends nina and dante, her boyfriend, her brother luca, and luca’s best friend.

after a particularly long night of drinks and fight over something so trivial she barely remembers, a drunken lana broke up with her boyfriend. god, what a horrible start to spring break. it was fine. she’d sleep it off and they’d either make up or she could avoid him the rest of the trip. except... the trip never ended, as they never made it to florida, instead detouring into huntsville, west virginia. 

she tried every single day for a year to find a way to leave or communicate with the outside world. didn’t take it seriously at first, avoided any sort of relationship with anyone because ‘we’ll be back to our normal lives soon’ unless interrogating them on if they knew anything. 

after a year, luca (her brother who had agreed to be a hunter) never returned from his trip. that was the first time her resolve started to shatter. 

for two years, lana lived in some sort of haze. maybe this wasn’t real, some sort of hallucination. what if she’d been in a coma from her skiing accident and never woke up? any absurd excuse to not accept her life falling apart, she was even more brash and impulsive than usual, only her best friends and now-roommates dante and nina grounding her. except... then they watched soulless monsters destroy dante with their own eyes. 

since then (2 years ago), lana has somewhat accepted that her life is ruined and she’s stuck in this living nightmare for the rest of time, and it’s all her fault. since she never wanted to make new friends before, she’s not been any better now. quite chatty and curious, but makes no effort to get close to anyone. 

works at the local newspaper as some sort of sick joke to herself. she was qualified, after all. 

top 5 theme songs:

make it up as i go - mike shinoda, k.flay  i keep on running backwards. i keep on losing faith. i thought i had the answers. i thought i knew the way. my brother said be patient. i don't know what i'm chasing. i don't know who i am. waking in the dead of night, i can't sleep. sleeping in the light of day for like weeks, reality was out of focus, i could be hopeless. instead i gritted my teeth.

we won’t - jaymes young, phoebe ryan don't go to war for me. i'm not the one that you want me to be. -- are we just gonna stay like this forever? floating, i'm serious, my heart is furious. -- don't waste your time convincing me that maybe someday we'll get it right.

when you break - bear’s den  spoiled, selfish little child went out to play out in the wild. i found you shaking like a leaf underneath your family tree. you could never live out in the open, regretting every word you've spoken. when you break, it's too late for you to fall apart, and the blame that you claim is all your own fault.

crossroads - timeflies you ever just go through the motions? it's like i'm stuck in a game, thinking it'll be different, then it just come up the same. man how the hell did i get here? not like i knew the way. just take me back to the start again, just one more time on the stage.

long story short - taylor swift fatefully, i tried to pick my battles 'til the battle picked me. -- i was in the alley, surrounded on all sides. the knife cuts both ways. if the shoe fits, walk in it 'til your high heels break. -- and i fell from the pedestal, right down the rabbit hole. long story short, it was a bad time.

Her Pinterest board is here.

Her Spotify playlist is here.

FAMILIAL:

N/A (unless there’s a future way her brother could have survived in the woods for 4 years LMAO)

PLATONIC:

ROOMMATES - { 1 / 1 } - nina vargas A BROKEN TRIO - { 1 / 1 } - nina vargas - the one person marlana remains close to of the remaining survivors of their road trip and trio of best friends. only person she lets herself be vulnerable with. 

FRENEMIES - { 3 / 3 } - clara jones, morgan vovk, jace sinclair - marlana is generally snarky to everyone, but especially to these few. the bad part ?? she actually misses days when they aren’t around to tease. not that she would admit that. 

BAD INFLUENCEE - { 1 / ? } - calloway de la luna - marlana is far from ‘innocent’/’lawful good’, someone that she has no qualms about corrupting, perhaps even finds a small joy in dragging them to the bar or approving of what people would normally consider bad decisions.

GOOD INFLUENCE - { 1 / 2 } - mylene karimi - someone who has never given up on trying to befriend marlana. sort of a friendly “opposites attract” vibe in that they are more optimistic/sunshine-y/sillier than her in a way she begrudgingly finds she wants to be around. 

ACQUAINTANCES - { 1 / ? } - conrad greene - maybe they frequent the bar together, are always at the diner for lunch at the same time and ended up sharing a table, etc. she often frequents the daily grind, bucky’s diner, the sasquatch, and the library.

CO-WORKERS - { 3 / 4 } - evora kaplan, prudence wheaton, parker russo - other people who work at huntsville daily - is probably generally friendly to them and likes them more than other people in town unless plotted otherwise 

NEIGHBORS - { 4 / idk 6? } - tari park, avery cowling, rusty craven, genesis boone - people who live next door to her and nina TRAINING PARTNERS - { 1 / 1 } - morgan vovk - someone she went to for help learning to fight / defend herself after losing dante two years ago .

PROTECTIVE - { 1 / 1 } - parker russo - someone younger than her that she has sort of accidentally adopted and is very protective over. 25 or younger. 

ANTAGONISTIC:

FORMER FRIENDLIES - { 0 / ? } - people who were warm and welcoming to her in the first year or so who did not receive the same treatment in return and eventually gave up on befriending her.

ENEMIES - { 1 / 3 } -  zoë clark - a lawful good who can’t stand her chaotic good/neutral nature, someone who just can’t stand her snarky attitude, maybe she hates them simply bc they have a sunny disposition and don’t despise living in huntsville 

ALWAYS AVOIDANT - { 1 / 3 } -  • after losing her brother she decided to go after him in case he was alive and snuck out while nina was asleep to “monster hunt”, unsure if she had much intent to return without him. she nearly died and has a nice scar on her arm from getting caught on a barbed wire fence trying to escape one, but someone saved her and dragged her back to town. she generally avoids them and pretends it didn’t happen bc not good at saying thank you or acknowledging vulnerability. - eddie romero

• one of the people on the road trip was her brother luca’s best friend. in their old lives, she didn’t like him for some mundane and probably immature reason: he wasn’t from her tight knit families or he and luca tried to do things without her as kids, etc. since luca’s death 4 years ago, she’s generally cut him off, worried he’ll blame her for being stuck in huntsville (she didn’t even want him on the trip!!!) or for luca and bc he reminds her of the past. must be a “visitor” who arrived around 5 years ago on their road trip. lived in nyc anywhere from just for a master’s/new job for a few years up to his entire life. age: probably early 30s? • dante’s twin brother - dante was her other best friend who was killed 2 years ago - his twin has been looking for him for over 5 years since dante and his friends never returned from their trip - lana would avoid him, not wanting to dwell on the past long enough to explain what happened -  must be a “visitor” who just arrived. lived in nyc at least for his childhood. age: around 30

ROMANTIC:

* ✨  i do not plot out ships so none of these are meant to lead to an actual “romantic” ship unless it does on accident from chemistry! ✨ 

ACCIDENTS HAPPEN - { 3 / 3 } -  fletcher cole, cyan canne, riley saunders - people who are maybe antagonistic-leaning as a connection that she’s accidentally had a one night stand with due to poor impulse control. male/nonbinary. 

“THIS WON’T HAPPEN AGAIN” - { 1 / 1 } - duck romero - same as above except definitely antagonistic connection + she keeps reminding him that this will “absolutely never happen again” and would deny having any connection with him if anyone asked.  inspo: (x) (x) “WE CAN BE CASUAL” - { 0 / 1 } - they’re both attracted to each other, and get along quite well,  but whatever this is at least originated after a drunken/sleep-deprived conversation abt how they have no interest in a romantic future with anyone. maybe seem kind of romantic to others. 0-3 years. inspo: (x) (x) (x)

UNREQUITED - { 0 / 1 } - whether they’ve not actually indicated this interest/did and were turned down and are still trying or agreed to be friends, he has a romantic interest in marlana, which is rather difficult since she... pretends she doesn’t have feelings. anything from acquaintances to fwbs. probably deserves better than her.  inspo: (x) (x)

EX-BOYFRIEND - { 0 / 1 } - they dated anywhere from 6 months - 5 years and his feelings can be anywhere from was cheating on her/using her for family connections to was abt to propose, sky’s the limit. she broke up with him the night before they got stuck in huntsville (probably a silly drunken fight or general panic over starting a new life chapter) and even if one or both of them would have wanted to make up, they never got the chance. it’s been over 5 years now so it could be a he despises her for dumping and then trapping him here, exes w jealousy, a will they won’t they where they always back out last minute, he wants her back when he rly shouldn’t, only she has unresolved feelings, he just wants to be friends again, etc etc!  must be a “visitor” who arrived around 5 years ago on their road trip. lived in nyc anywhere from just for a master’s/new job for a few years up to his entire life. age: probably early 30s? inspo: (x) (x)

OTHER - feel free to hit me up with any other ideas you have as well ! please feel free to mix or match any of these from any category ! 

[crehador]

Is it alright to ask for Rijyu hc’s?(I love the idea of horse-kun third wheeling the hell outta them, ESPECIALLY after they get together UvU)

OF COURSE

personally i like to imagine rijyu as a somewhat "boring" couple, though really i just mean soothing and untumultuous without a lot of drama in their relationship (so "boring" but in a good way)

and i think a lot of my hcs of them as a couple are shaped by them as individuals, because they strike me as partners who would gladly be shaped by each other

like hc that rio is just more comfortable out in the woods, so when they look for a place together they look for a place closer to or in nature (but compromise by getting an actual house and not living out of tents forever)

before they move in together hc that rio is only really comfortable sleeping in the city if he's at jyuto's apartment, he's too on edge to fall asleep anywhere else

hc that they do forever go on a lot of camping trips together because rio loves them, even if they aren't jyuto's favorite thing

as for jyuto i see him as potentially a bit of a workaholic, who has to always be reminded to take breaks (though tbh i also hc rio not being the best at keeping track of time like he could be off on a solo camping trip and just not notice that five days have passed, so they need to really both hold each other accountable for like... actually remembering to see each other and civilization lol)

anyway so basically!! hc that sometimes they just don't see each other for a while, either because jyuto is busy or rio is hyperfixating on something in the woods or both, but when they do they are so lovey-lovey and go on a bunch of unexpectedly classy dates

like coffee shops hipster bars museums art galleries the aquarium, and shopping once in a while (have always loved the hc that jyuto is very fashionable and chooses a lot of rio's outfits and the one time rio was left to his own devices he went full avocado smh) but always making sure to go when there aren't huge crowds because rio's not the biggest fan of crowds

samatoki definitely hangs around a lot lol in part because ichiro is like 85% of his impulse control so if ichiro is busy he needs babysitting but also in part because ofc they are family! nakama!! so i don't think rijyu getting together changes that, and despite all the sibling-esque bickering imo they get along well and are one of the most ride or die divisions (though okay i say that about like literally every division lmao they are all ride or die to me)

this is getting long and unorganized so i'll stop soon lol

basically my tl;dr rijyu hc is they are battle couple* by day and soft comfy reading long novels and cuddling on the couch by night type of couple

*like if one of them were hurt the other would absolutely lose his entire shit and probably do at least one murder let's be honest

[saharadesertlady]

Here’s looking at you, kid

I’m a very impulsive person by nature. I don’t think things to death, or at all for that matter. I am a 35 year old single woman with ADHD who has no dependents and no tethers, so naturally when my aunt sent me an instagram post about a Morocco tour I booked it immediately. I’m still waiting for the day that my impulsivity gets me into trouble but honestly, in hindsight, I don’t know why everybody in the world doesn’t just impulsively book a trip to Morocco. So hopefully this blog will inspire some impulsivity in you.

I landed pretty late at night in Casablanca and was met with the first Morocco cliche that I read about: Forex consultants will get you to put your Moroccan Dirhams (MAD) on a travel card which you can tap and use at ATMS. You will quickly find that outside of major city centres the ATMs do not work, the cards come with a fee and also the consultant gets commission for every card they sell. Don’t fall for it. Take hard cash. Moroccan cliche 2: Taxi operators hounding you at the airport. I was met by one such young man straight out of the gates. When I agreed he pointed me to a chair and told me to wait. He then proceeded to hound every other person coming out of arrivals in an effort to fill up his taxi. It was 10pm at night and after 45 minutes of waiting I left and decided to book a Careem (Arab Uber).

Cue Morocco cliche 3: Careem app quotes MAD350 for the trip but when I got to the hotel he told me that after 11pm the charges double so I now have to pay a very angry Arab man MAD500. Advice online is to heckle but as a solo female traveller late at night I gave in. Don’t say I didn’t warn you though.

I was warned not to wander around Casablanca late at night by myself so I didn’t venture out much. To be honest Casablanca was rather unremarkable so I didn’t feel like I was missing out on much, so I went to bed happy in the knowledge that the next day would bring my tour of the King Hassan II mosque. It’s 210m tall minaret, lush gardens, expansive courtyards and magnificent mosaic walls are breathtaking. It can fit 25,000 people inside the mosque and an additional 80,000 people in the gardens and courtyards. The mosque hugs the Atlantic coastline and has glass floors in some places so worshippers can stand and prostrate directly above the ocean.

I’ve always had an issue with elaborate mosques. They can be very distracting, with so much for the eyes and ears to absorb that your mind tends to wander away from prayer, and additionally elaborate monuments cost a great sum. This one apparently costed around $750m, funded by the King directly as well as public funding. But great men of history have been building monuments to themselves and other great men since time immemorial and they’ve almost always been built on the financial and physical backs of the common people.

But this is the thing with African, Arabian and many East Asian cultures. Love for their monarchies is still an engrained thing. Pictures of previous kings can be found in government buildings, but also cafes, convenience stores and even in peoples homes. They speak of their leaders with an almost fearful reverence, as if the men themselves might jump out of the pictures and arrest them for treason right then and there.

However, as someone who has travelled to the Muslim Holy lands of Makkah, Medina and 🍉 and prayed at some of the holiest sites in the world I wasn’t entirely sold on the intricately carved granite walls from the Atlas Mountains, the engraved marble from Agadir or the hand blown and painted glass windows from Murano, Venice. But I’ll tip my hat to the beautiful mosaic murals which are a nod to Moroccan culture.

Tours for non-Muslims are only available with the use of guides. Women must cover legs and arms. Tour entry was about MAD11.

[kyndaris]

Looking back on the Rising Sun

After tasting the intricately interconnected history of empires in the Middle East, visiting South Korea and Japan this year was a treat. Much like the the nations around the Mediterranean, many of the North East Asian countries such as China, Korea and Japan also a shared history. Whether this was their festivals or religious observations - there were many similarities. Especially when it came to engagement with the Western world when European powers came knocking during the Age of Discovery.

While I would still like to do a six week trip to the United Kingdom sometime in the near future, travelling to six different cities over the course of three weeks with my dear friend, bleachpanda, was still an experience in and of itself.

Most of the time I've ventured overseas, it's been with family. In fact, there have only been two instances when it hasn't been with one family member or another. The first was in 2013 when I accompanied a friend and her brother to the United Kingdom (but stayed primarily in and around London before heading to Czechia and Austria for a week). The second was my solo travel around the United States and Canada back in 2016 after being made redundant when I was selling books.

So, this third trip without family was still very special to me.

And while from date of ticket purchase to actual visit took nigh on six months, the decision to go to Japan in late February to early March was, at least in my eyes, a rather impulsive decision.

In fact, it came about when bleachpanda was browsing the internet and stumbled upon cheap ANA deals, messaging me, and then me readily agreeing to go before I plotted out our route through the cities while noting down the major sights we could see. True, there were places we didn't quite get to see - like Onomichi or heading to Kawaguchiko and Arakurayama Sengen Park to see a splendid view of Mount Fuji - but overall, I still think our trip to South Korea and Japan will remain a particular highlight for the two of us.

Perhaps because we were not tethered to family or expectations and could explore South Korea and Japan unfettered. And as the two of us had some similar hobbies, it didn't seem all too terrible to wander through a Mugiwara store or three, even as I dragged bleachpanda to the umpteenth Disney store in the city. Yes, I did get a little cranky when we stopped every fifteen minutes to spend another five to ten minutes at an accessory store in South Korea but it could have been worse.

And bleachpanda was very accommodating when it came to all the tourist sights I had us visiting, despite the occasional tiresome travel day we may have had. Or the fact I had her climbing up Namsan towards N Seoul Tower. Something she likes to remind me of every time I sing the Don Quijote song.

Would I go travelling again with a friend? Yes! Would I travel again with bleachpanda? Probably yes. She's not the worst travel companion I've had and was pretty flexible about places to see and visit.

Travelling with friends can be a delicate balancing act but if you manage to communicate well, it can become much more fun.

Of course, keeping numbers low is still probably more beneficial than being in a large group. Unless, of course, your interests all align. Elsewise, being able to split away and do your own thing once in a while would probably be best.

In any case, visiting Japan has always been a treat. After growing up on a healthy dose of anime and manga, along with video games made by Japanese developers, there's something fascinating about visiting Japan and soaking in the culture whilst physically there. It also helped that many of their aesthetics for plushies were right in my ballpark. Beyond the major cities, though, there's also something magical about the smaller towns and the countryside. Less frenetic, they give people an opportunity to breathe.

South Korea, too, was a country of contrasts with one foot in its long storied history with the Joseon dynasty and the other in a ultramodern city setting. This was particularly prevalent in Seoul where people would hawk the latest Samsung TV or phone, which stood in stark contrast to the palaces of old.

While I know many a person who has come to fall in love with South Korea through their music, television shows and skincare products, I was still quite new to the whole experience. After all, the only Korean production I've watched is Squid Game and it doesn't distill much except that capitalism is bad and people will oft times do anything to lift themselves out of poverty. Of course, the game is rigged up for the wealthy to enjoy the novelty of watching people scrambling to survive.

But while in South Korea, I managed to see beyond the image presented by the media it produced. Instead, I came to understand a little of what drove the people and their wishes for the future.

And that is something you can't always get from a tawdry drama or two.

As someone who loves to read and play video games, exploring and seeing things for myself adds to my understanding of someone's lived experience. It brings into stark reality the horrors people have endured that seeing it through a screen simply cannot capture. Reading personal stories about those in wars, listening to their testimonies, and seeing the repercussions puts these things into perspective and helps place these events firmly in reality.

We live so much of our lives online these days, it's often hard to differentiate what is real and what isn't. Heck, some people even question now if the Holocaust is real.

Like...why? How?

This is why it's important to conserve our history.

Nations rise and fall but in many places, history has been preserved. And this was abundantly clear while I was in South Korea and Japan. While the actions of nations from aeons ago can be forgiven, they should never be forgotten lest human tribalism repeat the mistakes of old.

With that said, I do hope to revisit Japan again in the future, and perhaps a few more places in South Korea. But for now, I have my heart set on a few other countries I want to tick off. Namely Europe and the United Kingdom before I turn my attention to South-East Asia.

So many places to go, so many things to do...and yet so little time to experience this great wide world we call home.